#i hope those of you that celebrate had a tolerable if not nice day

[carnivalcarriondiscarded]

You're cool!! Merry belated Christmas!!!

thank you! Same To You!

[criminalamnesia]

ok this is the end of the little tolerate it series— BUT I’m writing two different endings!! so here’s ending 1 :)

part one here and part two here

ending version 2 here

when he saw you that day on the street and tried to stop you, you had kept walking. hadn’t even turned your head, as if you knew it was him speaking.

of course you’d known it was him. he couldn’t blame you for ignoring him, honestly— he had been awful to you. he fully recognized that now, after years of being alone and mandated therapy and an honorable discharge.

he recognized how he let the one good thing in his life slip through his fingers, all because he was too damn wrapped up in himself. but he had a right to be.

he had a right to not want to celebrate coming home. had a right to want peace and quiet once escaping from the sounds of war and death. he just should’ve communicated that with you instead of pulling away.

he’s grown. he understands now. and he knows you don’t owe him anything— hell, he wouldn’t be surprised if you slapped him across the face for this, but he needed to try.

he knew it was selfish of him. you’d moved on, surely. years had passed and you’d grown. he’s sure that naivety he once found charming is long gone, most likely from his doing.

he takes a deep breath, fist raised to knock on the door to your house. it’s small and quaint. something he definitely could’ve seen you picking out when the two of you had still been together. maybe not all of you had changed.

he’d gotten the address through Laswell as a parting gift. and he didn’t know why it was the one thing that came to mind— but it was, and now he’s here. standing on your porch with his fist in the air like a fucking creep.

he pushes out an exhale and knocks. all is silent inside the house, and he knocks again, the second one easier than the first.

“coming!” he hears you call from inside. he steels himself. readies himself for attack, for battle. it was something he couldn’t quite shake, even if he’d been retired for a year now. those instincts really never leave you.

the door swings open, and the smile you were sporting instantly drops.

“what are you doing here?” there’s venom in your tone. he doesn’t shy away.

“love—” he begins, but you scoff and start to shut the door.

“actually, I don’t want to know. get off my porch before I call the cops—”

before the door can click shut, he reaches a hand out and blocks you from fully shutting it. you look down at his hand, bewildered.

“move your hand.” you speak through gritted teeth. he stands his ground.

“love,” he starts again, pushing the words out quickly to avoid getting cut off again. “y’don’t owe me anythin’ and I know that. but can I at least apologize? please?”

you stare at him. he keeps his hand in the door, watching your face intently. he can’t tell what’s going on behind your eyes.

you take a beat. two. three. then you shut your eyes tightly as you inhale, open them as you release the breath, and open the door wider.

“you’ve got five minutes to speak your piece, and I hope you know I’m doing this for you, not me. I got over you a long time ago, and because I see myself as a halfway decent person, I’m going to let you do this. then you can leave and never come back. understand?”

he gives a small nod. “understood.”

you step aside and he enters your house, eyes already scanning his surroundings. it’s cute and airy, comfortable and full of you.

pictures of you and friends on the walls. lamps that look a hundred years old on end tables. big windows letting the sun shine in and onto a plethora of plants. colorful artwork and pillows and fabrics. it’s a house full of you, of life, and he finds himself envying it.

he doesn’t know why. maybe because it’s something so normal, and something he’s never experienced. he didn’t get that before he left home, and he certainly didn’t get it in the military. he still doesn’t have it now. he’s still struggling to figure out who he is without a gun in his hand.

“nice place,” he says, and he means it.

you roll your eyes as you walk towards the blue, comfortable looking couch situated to the right. he follows dutifully.

you gesture towards the couch, and he takes the hint. he sits down, sinking into the cushion, and watches as you move to stand across from him. he knows you’re putting distance between the two of you. he doesn’t blame you.

you were never the problem.

he was.

“five minutes, starting now. best believe I’m timing your ass,” you mutter out, pulling your phone from your pocket and tapping the screen. setting a timer, most likely.

best to get on with it, then.

“I owe you an apology, and I ‘ave since y’left. before tha’, actually. I was an ass, and I know tha’ now. you had every right to leave, and you have every right to hate me—”

you gave a mirthless, hollow laugh and crossed your arms over your chest. you were putting up your walls, protecting yourself.

“you put me in therapy, did you know that? years of it. broke me down and crushed me into tiny pieces. made me think I was the problem, that I deserved to be treated that way. ruined my trust and my confidence.”

your tone was bitter. your nails dug into the skin of your arms.

“you were never the problem,” he says, his words firm. he stand then, hands hanging loosely at his sides. “I was. I know tha’ now. I pulled away when I should’ve communicated, or hell— broke things off sooner.”

“so that’s why you’re here then? to tell me you wished you would’ve broken up with me before I broke up with you?”

god, that was not what he meant, and he struggled to find the way to put his thoughts into words.

“no, f’course not, love. I’m tryin’ to say I strung y’along, made things worse, and—”

“and what?” you interrupted.

“an’ im sorry, love. I know it probably doesn’t mean anythin’ anymore. but i am. deeply.”

you didn’t speak for a minute. your eyes studied his face. he knew you were probably taking in the obvious signs of age, of battles he came back from when you were no longer there.

“you going on a suicide mission? is that why you’re here? making amends before you die so you can face the afterlife with a clear conscience?”

he shook his head, taking a small step forward. “no. I— I was discharged. a bit ago, actually.”

“congrats,” you deadpanned.

“tha’s not tha’ point,” he sighed. “they made me go to therapy for a while. unpack all tha’ shit they put me through. and the shrink brought up you once, and it got me thinkin’—”

“so you’re here because your shrink told you to say sorry?”

“bloody hell, love, let me finish,” exasperation was clear in his tone, but he tried to reel it in. he reminded himself that you didn’t owe him shit. you could kick him out right now. he was here because of your allowance, and the second you stopped tolerating him, he’d be back on the porch.

you raised your eyebrows but kept your mouth clamped shut.

“I was an ass when I was with you, and tha’s on me, not you. I was dealin’ with my own shit, and havin’ you celebrate me and boastin’ about my bravery and shit— it didn’t— I couldn’t stand it. you don’t understand, love, and you never will— and tha’s not your fault. s’mine, and I’m still comin’ to terms with all tha’ shit. and I should’ve communicated tha’ with you instead of pullin’ away.”

silence filled the air between the two of you. he could hear the tick of a clock nearby. two ticks. three ticks. four. five.

“what do you want from me, then?” you spoke, and your voice was soft. he could hear the tremble in it— that old you slipping back in, and god he wanted to hold you.

he remembered loving you. he still knew what that felt like, even if was so long ago. and that love was creeping back in, that need to protect you coming back like a tidal wave.

“nothin’.” he said.

“nothing.” you repeated. he nodded.

the timer on your phone went off. five minutes, on the dot.

you clicked it off and looked at him. he was already moving towards the door.

“wait—” you called out to him, and as he turned back to face you, he could tell you hadn’t meant to. it had slipped out subconsciously, and he could see you fighting yourself on what your next words would be.

“I— I don’t forgive you,” you told him. “I don’t know if I ever will. but I— you don’t deserve to be alone. not after all you’ve done.”

he looked at you, the fingers of his hands twitching as he waited for you to speak again.

you took a deep breath and turned your attention to your feet. “I’m here. if you need someone to talk to about whatever. um— I—”

“it’s alrigh’, love. y’dont have to say anythin’ you don’t mean.”

you shook your head. “I do mean it. I admired you when we were together, y’know? you were everything to me— and that’s not something that ever fully goes away. I kinda hate you for everything you did,” you gave a small laugh. “but I don’t want you to suffer, okay? maybe we can— can get coffee or something next week. yeah?”

your eyes were glassy. he resisted the urge to reach for you. he was a protector, it was in his nature. he’d been too wound up in himself back then to realize that the trait he’d showcased on the battlefield should’ve applied to his home life, too. applied to his relationship. to you.

“yeah.” he nodded, his voice soft. he gave you a small smile. “tha’ would be nice.”

you nodded. he looked at you for a moment longer, taking in everything that had changed. but there was still the hint of that naive, youthful you, and that made him smile a little wider.

he turned and walked out the door.

————

author’s note:

muahahahaha ambiguous ending. do they get back together?? no?? do they ever get coffee?? it’s up to you!

this is ending one, keep a look out for ending 2 :)

[thebestofoneshots]

birthday girl | marauders x reader

Pairing: J.P. x S.B. x R.L x Female Ravenclaw Reader Word Count: 3.8 k Warnings: none Prompt: It's your birthday but you're sick. The boys are just total darlings and care for you no matter the risks, making sure you have a super happy speacial day regardless. Comfort Fic // Birthday fic Written for @kquil

Soooo… thanks to @kquil's 1k follower celebration we discovered our birthdays are super close together, and it made me so excited I had to ask when her birthday was exactly and then I knew and then I had this idea in my head. 

And gosh, Kquil, I absolutely love the way you write love, so I wanted to make a little something for you. Hope you’re having a fantastic day sweetie, even if you’re sick with that goddamned awful virus, it feels like shit, I know it does, so I thought, perhaps a little comfort fic could make you feel better. 

This is just a little gift I wanted to make, a token of appreciation for you always sharing your lovely fluffy fics (that honestly make my days brighter)  with us, hope you enjoy <3

You woke up with a headache, sighting as you shut your eyes close again, the brightness coming from the large castle windows causing you to wince. You had felt the signs, the sore throat, the mild headaches and stomach pain, you were well aware you were getting sick but you honestly hoped your body would hold at least after your special day to break down. 

Hopes be damned, it was your birthday and you felt like shit, actually, no, you felt like you had been run over by a truck, which was slightly worse. You took your wand out and cast a spell to muffle the sounds of the already waking castle, especially the sound of your roommates, whom you adored but were too loud for your sick mind to tolerate. You grabbed your pillow and placed it over your head, groaning from how uncomfortable and sore you felt, you’d hoped the pillow would at least muffle the sound a little, no such luck, since just minutes after Mal was popping her head through your curtains and looking at you with brows furrowed in concern. 

“You all right luv?” 

You shook your head in response finally lowering down the pillow from your face, “feel like shit,” you admitted. “Remember I mentioned my throat was feeling funny?” Mal nodded “Well, it looks like it finally decided to give in.” And it really did, it felt like sandpaper every time you said a word. 

“Hold up a sec,” she said and pulled her head out “Hey Sage, do you still have those lemon caught drops we made in potions last month?” 

“Yeah, why?” 

“Sweet!” she said, you heard her step away and the rest of the conversation was toned out by your charm, after less than a minute later, Mal popped her head back in, small cystal jar in her hands “There you go love,” she said with a smile “Happy Birthday!” 

You chuckled and took the jar from her hands, cranking it open and placing one of the yellow candies in your mouth “Thanks!” you said with a smile. 

From the other side, Sage popped her head “Happy birthday sweetheart,” she said with a smile. 

You smiled at the two girls, shaking your head as you continued to suck on the candy, it was nice to know you had them in your life. You then heard the door creak open and another girl poped her head next to Mal “Hey luv, Happy Birthday!” she said, and then waved her hand, a tower of pancakes with a candle on top appeared on the side of your bed, you sat up, smiling wildly, and completly ignoring the headache and soreness. 

“This is– Thank you girls…” you said, looking at them with a grateful smile, making room for them to sit on the bed.

“Only the best for our best girl,” Eryn said with a wink as she sat on the edge. 

“She’s feelin’ sick thought,” Sage added, with a small pout. 

“The cough drops–“ 

“–we’ve already given them to her,” interrupted Mal “How’s the throat?” 

“Much better,” you said honestly, the caught drops really were doing their magic “The headache and the soreness is still there, unfortunately.” 

Sage pouted now, looking at you with a bit of a frown as you munched on your pancakes “Eating will make you feel better. You can skip breakfast if you want.” 

“Oh no, she can’t,” Eryn said shaking her head. “There’s a certain someone waiting for her just outside. And he looked just about to pick up a fight with the eagle for not letting him in.” 

You opened your eyes in shock “Don’t tell me it’s…” 

“Yup,” Eryn said with a smile “he might bring the door down if you don’t actually get out.” 

You shook your head in disbelief but nodded “I better hurry then.”

“You sure luv?” Sage asked “We can tell him to screw off and come back when you’re feeling better.”

You shook your head “I’ll just pass by Pomfrey before class or something,” you said with a smile and the three girls nodded, they were already wearing their uniforms, blue ties shining over their crisp white shirt. 

“You done?” Mal asked, pointing at your plate, you nodded and she vanished it right after. You looked at her surprised “I’ve been practicing evanesco lately.” 

You nodded and made an O in between your thumb and finger to indicate it’d been a fantastic casting. She nodded excitedly in response and the three girls went back to their respective beds. You stood from your bed, taking a long deep breath as you felt the pain and soreness after moving just a little, and started to slowly put your uniform on. 

You struggled so much while attempting to tie the tie with your scrambled mind that you decided to leave it as is, and deal with it later, genuinely worried one of the boys would actually break the door down if you took too long. You grabbed your bag and lousily threw your books and some parchment inside before walking out of your room and towards the entrance of the common room. 

The door opened easily and the first thing you spotted was his bright red converses, tapping against the stone floor impatiently. He ran straight to you and pulled you into a bone-crushing hug, which you enjoyed as much as it made you squirm, the pain in your muscles being very present. He started to slather soft kisses over your face when you gently pushed him off you. He looked at you with concern, trying to search for what was going on in your eyes. 

“I’m sick,” you told him, still trying to move away from his grasp. 

“Don’t care,” he said pulling you into a hug again. You shook your head but hid your face on his chest either way 

“You’re gonna catch my cold.” 

“Will be worth it as long as I can hug my birthday girl,” he said, still hugging you “And kiss her,” he whispered sneakily. 

“James!” you whined, It was already hard enough to resist his charm without him actively trying to charm you. 

“What’s the plan today?” 

“Class, probably,” you said with a shrug and went back to look at your tie, attempting to tie it by yourself, only to groan and let it hang over your neck either way. 

James frowned “You have a headache, don’t you?” You nodded as you leaned into his chest, not bothering to answer. 

“And my whole body aches, I’m more sore than that one time we fell off the broom.” 

James winced, remembering how bad that time had been “Moony should have something to help, let’s go!” He said, grabbing your hand and pulling you along with him. 

“Where are we going?” You asked as you allowed him to pull you along. 

“Gryffindor common rooms,” he said as he sneaked the two of you behind a statue. 

“Your portrait’s not gonna let me in.” 

James stopped and turned to you, taking your tie in between his hands and gently pulling it off your shoulders, it slid right off easily. He placed it in his pocket and took off his own, placing it over your head and accommodating the neck of your shirt with ease. 

“The tie wasn’t the only…” you started, but he was already taking off his vest and putting it over your head. “But what about the…” With a swish of his wand, your robes turned wine red instead of blue. You started at the boy in disbelief “Could’ve just charmed my entire uniform instead…” 

He shrugged “Maybe, but you look too cute in my clothes, there was no chance I passed the opportunity up.” You smiled and shook your head at his antics, he placed his hand over yours again and started dragging the two of you through the passageways until you were just outside of his common room. You stood beside him with an awkward smile as he told the lady the password. You swore she threw you a look, but instead of saying anything she just smiled, as if she knew something that you didn’t, and allowed the two of you to come inside. 

You noticed some stares on James, but no one dared to say a thing as he pulled you along the stairs and towards his room, when he opened the door you spotted your two other boyfriends inside, Sirius was buttoning up his shirt and Remus was lacing up his boots. 

“Happy birthday dove,” he said when he spotted you, finishing the bow he was working on and walking towards you in three long strides, he placed a hand on the top of your head, letting it gently fall down as he brought your forehead to his lips “what brings you here?” 

“James,” you joked, you saw Sirius finish up his buttoning and he ran up to you, planting a kiss right on your lips, but you pushed him off with a worried expression and attempted to wipe his face with the sleeve of your hand. 

“What’s with her?” Sirius asked when he finally managed to get your arm off his face.

“Says she’s sick,” responded James.

“I AM sick!” you said “I had a cough drop in the morning, my head is dizzy and everything hurts. That’s why James brought me here.” 

“I should have something to lift your spirits,” Remus said thoughtfully as he moved towards his desk and started rummaging through his medicine cabinet.

Sirius pouted “Does that mean you won’t kiss me today?” 

“Well, I don’t want you to get sick too.” 

“But it’s your birthday,” he argued “You should get all the kisses in the world.” 

“Not at the expense of my boyfriends getting sick.” 

Remus came over again, handing you a small potion “Should help with the pain and headache,” he said as he handed it over to you. 

You took it in one go, “How long will it take for it to… oh.”

“Yeah,” Remus nodded with a smile “Pomfrey gave me the recipe for that time of the month, it’s great innit?” 

You nodded in response and Sirius inched closer “Does that mean I can kiss you now.” 

“Not because I don’t feel sick does it mean I’m not,” you scolded. 

“What if we take something to stop us from getting your cold?” 

“Is there such a potion?” James asked. 

“‘Course there is, isn’t there Moony?” Sirius said looking straight at the boy in question, who quickly deciphered Sirius’ intentions and nodded “Yeah, yeah… I’ve got some in my closet.” 

You narrowed your eyes at the boys, you knew of no such potion, but your head was a bit too cloudy to argue, and Remus was better at potions than you were anyway so you decided to trust them in this one. 

Remus grabbed a small potion and they divided it between the three. Sirius smiled and brought you close to his face “Wicked! Now do I get to slather you with kisses?” 

You looked at the boy, his curls falling beautifully at the side of his head, there was a slight blush on your cheeks as you nodded, but you weren’t quite sure if the blush was because of Sirius’ beautiful face, his adoring eyes, or because you were getting a fever, or perhaps all three. 

He leaned in and placed a kiss on your eye “Happy birthday love,” he said and pressed a kiss on your other eye “Happy birthday,” he said and then pressed another kiss, this time on your cheek “Happy birthday...” 

And he would’ve gone on, but James stopped him, removing the boy from your face, which earned him a glare “All right, that’s enough, you’re hogging her!” 

“We should get to class,” you said as you grabbed Remus’ wrist and brought it closer to your face to check the time on his watch. It was something you did rather often, and Remus enjoyed it a lot more than he let on. There was nothing like the soft touch of your hands over his wrist, over anywhere on his body, if he was honest. 

“Should we?” asked James as he placed a hand on your forehead “I don’t know sweetheart, it seems to me like you’re a bit too sick for class.” 

You looked at him in disbelief “Too sick for class but not too sick to kiss you?” 

“Hey I don’t make the rules,” he said raising his hand with a diverted smile “What do you think Pads? Does she look well enough for class?” 

The boy in question placed a hand on your cheek, and looked at you attentively “Now that you mention it Prongs,” he said slowly “Our lovely Kquill does look a bit pale, doesn’t she?” 

You took his hand off your face and turned to Remus, hoping he’d be the only sensible person left “Come on Rem, you know we have to go to class don’t you?” 

He tilted his head “How many classes have you missed this year Sweetheart?” 

“I…uh-“ 

“–She hasn’t missed any,” James said, very sure of his answer. 

“I have.” 

“Really? Which one?” 

“I… I missed History of Magic last month.” 

“And what else?” asked Sirius, stepping closer now.

You looked to the side “No-nothing else.” 

“Then, my love,” Remus started “I think it’s best if you stay and rest. You said it yourself, just because you don’t feel sick anymore it doesn’t mean you’re not.”

James smiled and placed his hand over your shoulders “There we go sweets, Doctor Moony’s orders. You’re stayin’” 

“What, you mean here?” 

Sirius nodded, and with a wave of his wand both his bed and Remus were next to each other, making a huge one, another wave and there was soft rock playing in the background.

You raised your eyebrows “There we go luv, we can chill and listen to some of your favourite tunes,” he said with a smile “Your mixtape’s on.” 

You still looked at the boy in disbelief, and then you heard a knock on their window. James frowned but approached it either way, an owl was waiting there, with a letter on its beak. James grabbed it and took a treat out of his pocket to feed the owl who hooted merrily before leaving, “It’s for you,” he said, walking towards you again. 

“For me?” You asked confused. 

“Yeah, go ahead, sit on the bed, you can read there more comfortably,” he added and held the letter between his hands as you tried to reach for it “Sit on the bed, I’ll bring it over,” he insisted. 

You rolled your eyes and did as told “May I have my letter now?” 

James nodded and handed it over, you looked at it and a smile grew on your face as you read the envelope “Oh! It’s from my brother!” you said as you unfolded it and started reading its contents. He was wishing you a very happy birthday, telling you how much he loved you but not to let it go to your head, and he also told you to kick Sirius in the balls if he kept trying funny things. 

“What’s with the hate?” the boy said as he read the letter from over your head. You laughed, your brother had been the one to leave you at the station that summer, and he had seen Sirius approach and hug you from behind. But then he’d also seen the boy dig his head into your neck and give you a whiff, long story short, he thought Sirius was weird and that you should stay away from him. Of course, he had no clue Sirius was an animagus, and a dog no less. 

You shrugged “He’s crazy let him be.” 

“I just hope he doesn’t actually kick me on the balls next time we meet.” 

“Don’t be so dramatic Puppy,” you told him as you ruffled his hair, he let his entire head fall over your lap then, looking at you contently. What a twat, you thought looking straight into his eyes and charming smile as you continued playing with his hair. Your brother had also left a couple of galleons on the letter, for you to buy yourself something next time you went to Hogmeade. Which is why you stopped playing with Sirius’ hair and left the letter on the table, the boy complaining just seconds afterwards. 

James and Remus joined the two on the bed eventually and chilled for a while, Remus took out a book and you asked him to read out loud for you to listen, and he did, he was reading Peter Pan, and the story put you in a surprisingly good mood, even if you were in that place between sleep an awake as his soft and yet deep voice gently soothed you to sleep. 

When you woke up the lights were off, you heard a couple of whispers coming from the door and you felt Sirius shift, you wondered how you’d ended up leaning on his chest but then you heard Remus whisper a spell and suddenly a bunch of candles had turned on and he and James were approaching you with the cake on his hands. You smiled, at their silly antics, the three of them started singing Happy Birthday.

“Happy birthday to you, happy birthday to you, happy birthday dear–“ they started. But the three of them said their own pet names to you which is why it turned into a completely uneven choir of “dove”, “Love of my life” and “Kquil”. Which obviously had you giggling. 

“Come on make a wish,” James said once the cake was close enough. 

You stared at him, taking a deep breath and leaning in to blow the candles, closing your eyes as you made your wish, more of this, you thought, more of them.

“Can we turn on the lights?” 

James shook his head “We certainly can’t.” 

“But I want to see the cake!” you said, “Where did you get it?” 

“James made it sweetheart,” Sirius informed “That’s why he doesn’t want you to see it.” 

You smiled at that and fetched your wand from the bed, using it to turn the light on and look at the cake, you smiled, they had used your favourite colour for the cover, and it was lopsided and uneven, with a “Happy Birthday Kquil” written with white on top. That was definitely Sirius’ handwriting, you could tell since it was the neatest part of the cake. You wonder how he could write it if you had been laying on his chest, but perhaps it was one of those mysteries you would never decipher. 

“I love it,” you said honestly, as you dipped your finger in the soft buttercream and threw it in your mouth “Did you put flavouring on it?” 

James smiled and nodded “It was Remus’s idea, to use extract of your favourite fruit.” 

You smiled at the three boys, “Now give it a bite!” Sirius said, still from behind. 

“What?” you asked in disbelief “Aren’t er gonna cut it?” 

“Nah, it’s just for us,” James said “We brought spoons and we’ll eat it straight from the plate.

“That’s ridiculous!” 

“It’s economic,” said Remus “less dishwashing.” 

You gasped “You don’t do the dishwashing, Remus! The elves do.” 

He shrugged “Yeah, less work for them, isn’t that better?” 

You scoffed but smiled, “Fine then, with spoons it is.” 

“But you still have to bite,” James insisted. 

“What for?” You asked him. 

“Cause it’s your birthday,” Sirius responded, “go ahead, give it a bite.” 

You rolled your eyes but finally leaned into the cake, close enough to give it a small bite, and then you felt a hand push your head into the cake, you sprang back out with a gasp completely surprised and feeling a little betrayed by the boys.

“What the hell was that?” 

“A tradition we read about in an old book,” James said with a shrug “They say is for good luck.” 

“Good luck my ass,” you said as you started to wipe the buttercream with your hands, until you an idea popped into your head, with your hands filled with the creamy thing and them looking at you diverted and completely unassuming, you extended your hands towards both Sirius and James’ faces, successfully slathering with the meringue. 

“How dare you?” James gasped with an amused expression. 

“I’m just sharing the luck,” you said with a shrug and a small, innocent-looking smile. 

Sirius was cleaning his face and hair, who’d also been the victim of the buttercream slathering, “Why is it that only me and James that got this mistreatment?” 

You shrugged “Something tells me it was your idea,” you said as you shrugged and grabbed some of the cream from your face and dipped it in your mouth. Remus took his wand, and with a short spell vanished all the cream from your faces. 

“Can we eat now?” he asked with a smile, handing everyone their own spoon. The cake might have been a little lacking on the decoration part, but the taste was so on point you asked James three times if he really had baked it himself. 

“He did! I saw him!” Sirius said, “He was carefully measuring the ingredients and all.” 

Maybe it’s the potioneer in him, you thought as you continued enjoying the cake, the rest of the night went on in fits of laughter and singing along to your favourite song, talking with the boys and in general just passing the time with them. It was absolutely lovely, even your sick birthday had been one of your best birthdays. 

Later that week you figured the boys had lied to you and that the “contagion prevention” potion didn’t actually exist. You smacked them playfully but took soup up to their room several times. You still had James’ tie, and the lady from the portrait seemed to always be willing to let you in.

“Go take care of your boys,” she told you one time with the same enigmatic smile as the one on your birthday.

A/N: Hope you like this little thing sweetheart, and I hope it makes you feel better, even if it’s just a lil wee bit. It sucks to be sick on your birthday, but I’m sure you’ll be back up in no time, enjoying time with friends and loved ones, lysm. 

PS. Sorry is there are any spelling mistakes, I really wanted to get this out and ready for you to read and I couldn’t spell check like usually…

[toorusluvr]

… ⇢ ˗ˏˋ F.O.M.L PART TWO ࿐ྂ - FUSHIGURO TOJI

characters: coach!fushiguro toji x volleyball player f!reader

cw: college!au + volleyball!au + cunnilingus (f!receiving) + penetrative sex + mentions of creeps bothering the reader 

word count: 5k

note from nis: hi everyone so the long awaited part two of f.o.m.l is finally here. the part one was posted before i did my internship and now i’m three weeks away from completing my internship lol i’m so sorry for the delay. so, i hope this part two will keep you entertained and i apologise in advance if it’s not as good as the part one. the part two focuses on the events that happened before part one took place (did i word this right?) anyway, i hope all of you enjoy this part two as a celebration on officially getting toji animated! <3 thank you and have a great holidays! 

[part 1][part 2] 

Good lord, if Toji was no better than any other men, he would have tried to hit on his student that day. The first time he ever saw you as a woman rather than his student, he almost lost his mind over how fucked up that sounded in his head. He tried to blame himself for ever viewing you as a woman instead of his player but he just couldn’t stop staring at you! 

It was subtle, really. Toji was being subtle with all the staring, not wanting to stir up a crazy controversy around this new place. As a coach, he was supposed to lead his team to victory, not tearing them apart due to his foolish stunt. So, he acted normally like he usually did at his previous college. A grumpy, strict, hot-headed coach he has always been.  

Toji hates… no, he detests disobedience! He will never tolerate anyone talking back to him. Not even a word should be said back to him, no matter who the fuck you think you are. Whenever he asks you to do something, you better do it or else he’s going to lose his shit. You aren’t going to do what he asks you to do? It’s nice knowing you while it lasts. Especially in volleyball. You better follow what the man says. He is not at all nice with his words, he must say that. Most of the time, he would verbally lash out at the players, nitpicking every tiny mistake they make. It’s unbearable at first but hey, that’s how your team got to the final round of volleyball collegiate level! It was a remarkable day and the victory was possible due to Coach Toji’s determination and hard work. 

Coach Toji is never the one to make his players’ sports attire a huge problem in his life. But right now, there is nothing more he hates than how skimpy those shorts look on you at times. He wasn’t a fool! He could clearly see how stupid those college boys look at you in those revealing shorts. They were ogling over you and your teammates. A part of him just wanted to beat the shit out of them for having the audacity to look at what’s not theirs! 

But, he is not any better than those pervs. Coach Toji loves how those shorts look wonders on your legs. The way you stretch your legs on the squeaky floor and the shorts will rise a bit, teasing him with just a small peek of the globe of your ass. Coach Toji does not pay attention to the other players but you… you make him forget that he’s even breathing at the moment. 

Does he regret feeling this way towards his own student? Sometimes, yeah. He’s a grown man and so are you. It’s nothing inappropriate even if it might seem like it. But, he won’t ever act on his dirty thoughts for long as he’s having this job that is keeping him alive. He still has his conscience even if it’s uncontrollable at times. 

Coach Toji isn’t the one who likes having his hands on women he has absolutely no interest in. He avoids touching his players especially but you are an exception. He had to make an exception for you the moment he started to find himself staring at you. The days he started to think you are just what he needs in his life. Another plaything, another toy to keep. Such a precious little thing, his mind would say at every glance he takes. The quiet laughter you share with your teammates, the shy and flustered look every time your eyes meet his piercing gaze. He wouldn’t miss that. Oh, now he definitely knows you want him just as much. You may not want him romantically but it was enough to satisfy him on the you want him sexually part. 

You would think he doesn’t notice the way your body squirms every time he tries to fix your posture before each serve. He indeed notices it and the way your skin turns a bit colder each time his fingertips brush against your skin. The shaky breath you slowly inhale and exhale to calm the raging nervousness set in your heart. Cute. It just drives him to go crazy over you. 

His ‘girlfriend’, the woman he brought as his date to the event, wasn't really his girlfriend. Just another casual fuck buddy that he keeps in case he wants to well… fuck. Better to keep at least someone around anytime he wants to hit. She’s an old friend so no romantic feelings involved and both of them are very clear about it. 

That was merely a stunt to check if you’d get jealous but he never got the answer to his curiosity. You played your part well. Coach Toji was definitely impressed. 

However, a few days later, he received a call from your phone number that he saved in his contacts. Well, well, well, look who came running to him this late at night. Turns out, you couldn’t resist him too, huh? 

The moment he picked up the phone, his heart dropped at the sound of your panicking voice. You were sobbing and crying out for his name. “Coach, I-I’m sorry for calling you at this hour. There are a few guys who are disturbing me… I d-don’t feel safe,” your voice was caught in your throat at the end of the sentence. “Can you get me? Please…” you sobbed, holding your coat tightly to the chest. 

You couldn’t get past the group of guys because there were plenty of them. They were catcalling you and you got scared to walk past them. Calling your coach was the last thing you could do because no one else was nearby the campus at this hour. You went out for the sole purpose of purchasing dinner but then this shit happened. Fuck these guys for making you feel unsafe! 

Coach Toji immediately grabbed his jacket and keys, storming out of his apartment by the campus. “Don’t put the phone down! Stay on the phone with me. I’m coming to get you right now. Stay where you are,” he gritted through his teeth. His anger was off the roof, blood boiling at the thought of you feeling unsafe.

Those men’s faces will meet his fist tonight and he meant it with his whole existence. Whoever puts the people he looks out for in danger is going to be scathed alive. Coach Toji drove to the pinned location where he met a group of men drinking several cans of beer by the road. He spotted you hiding behind the building, hands clutching over your chest. One of the men tried to get you but he never got to approach you as Coach Toji’s fist met his jaw. 

“Don’t you fucking dare make women uncomfortable by your rotten existence, you fucking dipshit,” Coach Toji’s voice seethed. His knuckles burned, slightly scratching his skin off. He was quick to grab you by the hand and you were caught by surprise. Coach Toji stopped in his tracks in front of the group of men. 

“You better get the hell out of here before I call the fucking cops on ya,” he threatened. “If I get one more complaint, on God, I would make sure that each and one of you never sees the lights again.”

Coach Toji didn’t waste any second as he pushed you into the passenger seat. You tried to sob quietly beside your seething coach in his car. He didn’t say a word, just giving you space to calm down. His anger was out of his control but he wouldn’t want you to fear him while being in an unstable condition. He may have some unresolved anger issues but he is not an animal. 

You let your coach take you to wherever he wanted to take you. Knowing him, his players’ safety is under his guidance as well. So, he would never leave you in a place he doesn’t have his faith in. Instead, he brought you to his house by the campus. He’s been staying here for as long as you could remember. 

“Get inside,” Coach Toji instructed. You knew better than saying anything back so you obeyed. The door was unlocked by him and he rushed you inside. “Sit,” he pointed his index finger to the couch in the living room. 

His house was cozy even with the minimal decorations. No clutters except a number of beer cans on the dining table. Maybe he had a few drinks with people before this happened. You sat on the couch and the tears that overflowed before had left its stain on your face. Coach Toji went to his kitchen to grab a bottle of mineral water before handing it to you.

“Tell me what happened.” The screeching sound of the chair being dragged across the marble floor interrupted the silence. Toji placed the chair in front of you and sat across you, manspreading with his elbows planted above his knees. His jet black hair hair was damp, sweats sticking on his forehead. The black t-shirt stretched against his muscular body every time he moved. 

You explained to him that you were buying dinner take outs for yourself and you were on your way home when you stumbled upon the group of guys. They were drunk catcalling you, terrifying you to walk past them. You were stuck because that path was the only way home and out of there. Calling Coach Toji was your only option because he lives near campus and could come to get you as soon as possible. 

Coach Toji let out a heavy sigh. “Those bastards,” he gritted through his teeth. He got up and stood in front of you, keeping both of his hands inside his pocket. 

“Do you know any self-defense?” He asked. 

As embarrassing as it gets, you never really learned basic self-defense. There is no time to learn because of the time you spend on volleyball practices. “No, Coach. Sorry, I don’t know any,” you blurted out. 

“Don’t,” he retorted. “Don’t apologise.” 

Your eyes met his stare. It was instinctive to apologise for not knowing any because most of the time you ever hold a conversation with this man is when he is scolding you or your team members. 

“Sorry, Coach.” It was too late to realise what just came out of your mouth. Another apology that Coach Toji refused to hear. He let out a heavy sigh, clearly disappointed. 

“You think you can sweat tonight?” Coach Toji asked. His black orbs held its gaze with yours for a moment. 

You were clueless but you just said yes to his question. “Good. I’ll teach you basic self-defense. Come closer,” he instructed. “Leave your bag and takeout bags. They are not coming with you.”

Oh, right. You were still holding your shoulder bag and takeout bags in your lap. Putting aside your belongings, you got up and straightened your pullover and jeans. 

Coach Toji’s eyes landed on your outfits. “Those jeans are not going to make do. Do you have your shorts on?”

Safety shorts. You always put them on every time you wear jeans because it’s easier that way. No underwear lines. “Yes,” you hastily answered. 

Coach Toji could feel blood rush to his groin. Fuck. But, he wasn’t going to take advantage of you. He wanted to teach you some basic self-defense moves so it would be useful. He would hate for you to use it though because he doesn’t want any bastards near you to put you in any danger. 

“Put them on,” he commanded. 

You nodded hesitantly. Coach Toji hurriedly looked away so you could take your jeans off. He noticed you were clearing your throat awkwardly so he assumed you’re done. He cleared his throat next, “Alright. Come forward.” 

You did as told. Coach Toji took a step forward too, “First, stand with your feet apart. Align it with your shoulders. You know this. It’s a basic stance.” Within a second, you prepared yourself in the first stance. Coach Toji let out a disapproved noise. He checked your stance and moved his hand to widen the stance of your legs. His skin brushed against your skin and the contact burned you. 

Coach Toji felt the warmth emitted from your skin. “Next, you put your hands up like this,” Coach Toji showed the moves. You tried following and he nodded after your stance convinced him that it’s correct. He let out a satisfied hum before moving closer to fix the stance. 

“The next move requires flexibility. Just like how you did in volleyball. It’s easy. Move your legs like this. Raise them higher,” Coach Toji’s large hands gripped on your left thigh and moved them upwards, lifting your legs to kick the air. 

You let out a deep sigh as you felt the burning sensation over your inner thighs. “I think I pulled a muscle,” you winced in pain. Coach Toji furrowed his eyebrows. He didn’t think you pulled a muscle, maybe it’s just a light strain. 

“Sit down,” he pointed his index finger to the couch and you obliged. Coach Toji inspected your smooth thighs, his fingers running along your skin. His other hand gripped on your flesh with a firm grip. 

“I don’t think you pulled a muscle,” he confirmed. 

You bit on your lower lip. Maybe it was a false alarm? 

“Um, okay, Coach.”

Coach Toji raised one of his eyebrows at you, “You didn’t stretch properly.”

The tone of his voice was hinting on accusing you for not stretching properly. You felt offended somehow because you did stretch properly before learning the self-defense mechanism. But, it’s only normal for him to have an accusatory tone because that’s how he has always been. 

“Quiet already?” Coach Toji asked, staring straight into your eyes. He let out a heavy sigh again. “I thought you girls are so talkative even when I am around. Ya think I didn’t know what you guys were talking about me the other day?” 

Your heart dropped at the sudden mention of the other day’s incident. It’s none other than the woman herself who told him about it. Coach Toji had a good laugh after the woman told him about it. Well, she wasn’t wrong about it neither did his players. 

“I- well, we…” your words trailed off, not knowing where to begin to defend yourself. “It was a joke. I apologise on behalf of my teammates. I assure you it will not happen again.” 

“So, you think my sex life is a joke to you girls?” He blurted out. Coach Toji was not being serious about it but it was exciting to see the panicked look on your face. You looked so helpless right now and it rubbed his ego in the wrong way. 

Your cheeks heated, your breath became unsteady, palms turned colder the moment he said that in your face. No one was supposed to overhear the stupid conversation that put you in trouble right now. It was a foolish bet that could possibly hurt no one. But, luck wasn’t on your team’s side that day. Coach Toji’s girlfriend heard it all and placed her bet on it too. 

That stupid little game put you in trouble and you became the hero that saved your teammates the trouble. Gosh, being the hero doesn’t sound so good right now. Not with the killing stare Coach Toji was giving you. 

“Maybe it’s about time for me to stress that you girls really need to mind your own business. My sex life has nothing to do with you people,” Coach Toji sternly said. He noticed your jaw ticked, eyebrows furrowed when he scolded you for the mess that your teammates created. 

“Again, Coach. I apologise on behalf of my teammates. It was a foolish bet that has nothing to do with you,” you gulped, shaky eyes and heavy breaths. Coach Toji shrugged, dismissing your apologies. 

He found it funny that he didn’t find it offensive at all but God, did he try to control himself from not spoiling you right there and now. Coach Toji was about to lose everything on his goddamn mind seeing that innocent face of yours trying to make up for the team.

“Oh, sweetheart. If only you knew,” the man sighed. “Want to see it for yourself so you can brag to your teammates all about it?” 

Your eyes shivered. That wasn’t how you planned to describe what you were feeling in that moment but for sure your eyes did shiver! Every hairs on your body rose, skin prickled with heat in embarrassment or arousal – it was either of them, you were not quite sure which of them was it. 

“I- no, that is not what I meant,” you stuttered in your place. Both of your feet were stuck to the floor. You could not move an inch because Toji was staring daggers at you. His piercing gaze could kill you, steal all of your breaths and finally, leave your body on the floor. 

“Ever dreamed about me, doll?” Coach Toji took a step forward, and you could feel the warmth of his muscular body emitting. His black shirt hugging every inch of his biceps and that rock hard abs. The man brought his one hand over your face, cupping your delicate jaw. The friction between your shorts and the restraining tent on his pants flipped the switch in your brain. 

Your breath hitched again. “I’ll take that as a yes,” you heard him whisper just beside your ears. His minty breath tickled your already heightened senses. Coach Toji’s palm landed on your stomach, pushing you onto the couch. His very much larger build hovered on top of you. 

That man’s mind was a battlefield. He didn’t know what he should do at this moment other than wrecking you. A part of him wanted to go gentle but he said fuck it, and just do whatever his guts were telling him to do. He could not waste this chance. He wanted to show you how a real man should satisfy his partner, though you aren’t really his to begin with. As long as you get to taste just an ounce of his intention, he’s fine with it. 

“Do you want this, doll? Whatcha say?” Coach Toji’s voice broke the silence again. Slowly, he lifted your chin to meet his eyes. 

Your breath staggered, chest rising up and down heavily. Without any hesitation, you nodded your head – not knowing what the future has in store for you. It was all in the heat of the moment and you could not deny the heat pooling in between your legs. 

Coach Toji’s lips caught your lower lip. Gently, he nibbled on the soft lips he sneakily admired from afar. The urge to just devour you was getting stronger each second. Coach Toji’s impatient hands almost ripped your shirt out. But then he thought you deserved better than that. He wanted to at least be respectful of your current state. He groaned into your mouth as his hands snuck their way in your shirt. His calloused hands lightly stroked your stomach, igniting a fire in your systems. 

You let out a soft pant as he removed your shirt for you. If it were up to him, the shirt would be ripped off in a millisecond but he was holding himself back. It was a surprise to him too. He was never patient, he would admit.

Coach Toji looked down to where your nipples were poking through the material of your bra. A smirk plastered across his face seeing you got aroused. Your back was comfortably laid on the couch and Coach Toji’s huge frame looming on top of you. The man’s minty breath ghosted over your neck, littering soft kisses on the thin skin. He sucked and nibbled on your skin, instantly decorating it with the red marks. 

Your fingers clawed on his ripped back, careful to not make it sting. Maybe it was the chemical reactions in your system, but you couldn’t defy the electrifying feeling to grind against the man’s forming tent. His lips left traces on your skin as he went lower and lower. 

“Oh, God,” you whimpered once he situated his face in between your thighs. A smirk plastered across his manly, “sculpted by God himself” face. He roughly pulled down your pants, almost ripping the fabric into tiny pieces. He was growing impatient as time passed by. He couldn’t just stand there trying to refrain himself from spoiling you. You turned him this way, and he wasn’t complaining one bit. 

Right now, you wanted to run away so bad. But, the way Coach Toji was looking at you as if you were the greatest gift that has ever happened to him, successfully changed your mind. The way his gaze glistened with pride once he undressed you naked. His eyes observing every inch of your body with the smug smile on his face. His calloused hands reached for your thighs, circling both of them with his hands. 

“So fucking tempting,” he grunted in his deep raspy voice. “How could I not love this sight?”  

Coach Toji continued to taunt you as your body squirmed underneath him. He couldn’t let himself be patient any longer. The man ensured you were watching him the moment he spat on your cunt, and you shivered feeling the warmth of the liquid. 

You felt a long lick along your folds, back arched against the couch with your eyes shut. A burning sensation electrified your whole body. This feeling made you feel like you were a brand new woman. Nothing ever felt like Coach Toji’s tongue, not even your exes. Is this because he’s far more experienced? But, God, was it so good that you almost cried that night. 

Coach Toji threw a look at you, eyes shut closed — not daring to meet his eyes. Cute. 

His tongue sucked and nibbled on your folds before it moved to your clit. A cry escaped past your lips as he sucked hard on the bundle of nerves. Your instant reflex was to tug on his hair and he was pissed off. But, he fucking loved the way you pulled on his hair when he was devouring you like this. So precious for him. And obedient too. He would do anything just to have you in his home again. 

“Ah! Please!” You cried out after trying so hard to keep your noises to yourself. You were panting heavily, eyes finally met the man’s piercing gaze staring up at you. The scar on his lips lifted as a smirk plastered across his face, daunting you with mischief. 

Coach Toji went back up, towering you once again. “Please what, doll? Use your big girl words. You’re a smart girl. Try harder.” 

Your heart almost jumped out of your chest at his words. “Please… give me more, sir,” the word ‘sir’ hung in the air. Only Coach Toji’s steady breathing accompanied the silence. His blood rushed to his already half hard cock at the name you just called him. This might be the first time he is affected by the sound of your voice. 

“Give you what?” Coach Toji smirked. 

You gulped, your throat burned at throwing the words out of your mouth. Before you spoke, your breath hitched, stopping you to form coherent sentences. “Please use your cock on me, sir,” your lips trembled once you spat the words out loud. Loud enough for him to hear you. 

“Good. That’s what I thought,” he sighed. “Let me stretch you out before I use my cock on you, hm, doll?” 

That statement gave you chills. You peeked at his fingers. The girth of his fingers made it hard for you to breathe. It’s gonna burn, for sure. Coach Toji commanded you to look at him. You got scared of his stern voice. With nervousness coiling your stomach, you kept your eyes on Coach Toji, paying attention to every one of his acts. 

He brought two of his fingers to his lips, wetting them in his mouth. Saliva coating his two fingers right after, followed by a loud pop sound. “Tell me if it hurts,” he muttered under his breath. Your back arched once again once you felt his two fingers slid so easily inside your cunt, penetrating the tight walls with its girth. Once his thumb found your clit, you felt this swirling feeling inside of your stomach. The circular motion got your head spinning and panting for more. 

Coach Toji watched your breasts bounce up and down with an awe smirk plastered across his face. Your eyes shut closed, hands clutching on the couch. Feeling his lust got the best of him, his mouth then covered one of your nipples and gave them a hard suck. Your breath hitched again before letting out audible moans. 

The squelching noises that filled his living room echoed in the back of your mind. Your moans and his grunts mixed all together. “C-coach, wait, wait,” you paused. 

His eyebrows furrowed when you called out for him. But, he didn’t pull his fingers out and kept his steady pace. Your face washed with pleasure and struggled to get the words out. 

“Wh-what about your girlfriend?” You finally uttered the question you have been meaning to ask before this happened. His girlfriend would kill you if she found out that her boyfriend is secretly screwing his student behind her back. 

“She is not my girlfriend,” he asserted. Coach Toji met your gaze, “Don’t worry about a fucking thing. You are mine tonight.” He dared to say that with his two fingers languidly stroking your insides, abusing your tight walls with pleasurable pain. 

You moaned once again, climax almost washed all over you. Coach Toji bit on his inner cheeks, grunting as he drew firm circles on your clit, flicking the sensitive bud to give you the orgasm that you never had before him. And when it hit, you found yourself screamed in a high-pitched scream as you had your first orgasm. You were gasping for air but Coach Toji covered your mouth with his addictive kiss. 

His sexy lips nibbled on your lower lip, softly sucking on your plump lip before he terrorised your mouth. As his one hand cupped your jaw, the other free hand rashly undid his pants and his briefs. Once he undressed himself, he let out a groan after breaking the kiss. He never wanted to let go of your lips at that moment. 

You looked down at his throbbing cock in his hand. The length and the girth gave you a second thought. 

Will it fit? 

Will it hurt? 

It’s terrifying enough just at the glance of his dick. 

“Bend your legs for me, love,” he murmured. When you did, he wasn’t satisfied. So, Coach Toji took the matter into his own hands and bent your legs as far as you could. You hissed in pain but surprisingly, he kissed the pain away. 

Coach Toji sighed the moment the warmth of your slick touched his cock. He slid his length along your folds, just rubbing it back and forth, tormenting you with hasty moves. You winced because of the sensitivity after coming down from your high. 

“It’s- it’s sensitive,” you cried a plea.

Coach Toji held your thighs open before he buried his cock inside you. God, it was so warm and he almost lost his mind that night. Your walls were squeezing around his tip so tight. He slowly bottomed out but that only made you cry louder. It was painful but in a good way. The pain was minimal because you were already stretched out by his fingers earlier. 

His head was thrown back once his length was fully inside you. Slowly, he rocked his hips to set his pace. You sobbed back a tear, watching his cock sliding in and out of you. Indescribable feelings clouded your mind, disabling you to form coherent sentences. His stroke was so damn good, you were sure you almost wished tonight to never come to its end. 

Your legs kept on closing against your will because of the building climax. Coach Toji grunted under his breath as his frustration grew from keeping your legs open. 

“You need to be more flexible, doll,” he hissed. “Your legs need to be stretched out more.”

Whatever he said didn’t make sense to you when he got you all speechless. You let him belittled you and all he ever received was a bunch of whines and cries. Coach Toji watched every single of your facial expressions as his cock hit every sensitive spot inside your inviting cunt. 

“Fuck, I already love your pussy, baby,” Coach Toji groaned before giving another thrust that gave you a loud moan. “I am not changing my mind about your pussy,” his minty breath hovered in the corner of your lips. His tongue slid into your mouth, his bare hand fondling and pinching on your hardened nipples. 

His pace was ruthless, leaving your tongue tied. You were sure it was going to leave you limping the following day. Coach Toji wrapped your legs around his waist, pounding into you so hard. You were nothing but tears and snots in the comfort of his living room. He introduced all sorts of new unlocked feelings that night. But, you couldn’t help thinking of the consequences of tonight’s event tomorrow and the day after. What will happen between the both of you? What if someone finds out?  How are you going to look at him in the eyes during practice? How’s your future going to look like? Are you just another one of his fucktoy? 

The overthinking collides with your urge to come around his cock for the second time. And he gave it to you willingly. The high that you never expected you’d experience in your lifetime. Truly, Coach Toji knows how to fuck. It leaves you wondering if he makes love just as good as he fucks. 

[unicornpopcorn14]

13 for the ship prompt! :D

Ship Prompts 13- Write about your ship celebrating one of the members birthdays. Ship chosen: Queerplatonic Skk I got carried away with this (3.5k words aaaaa) 😭😭 Hope you enjoy it, Darcy!! :D

Saccharine

“You’re aware what day of the year it is, right?”

Dazai’s eyes widen, fork still in his mouth as the chatter of the restaurant fades in his ears. It’s been four– almost five years, surely Chuuya isn’t alluding to that. The moment he meets the other’s peeved face, however, his mouth gapes, with the fork still inside it, and whispers in horror,

“Don’t-”

Chuuya cuts him off with an exasperated sigh, “I enjoyed those 51 days of me being a year older, but alas. The time has come for me-”

“Do not-”

“-to be nice to you for the whole day…”

“NOOOOO!!!” He grabs his hair as he lurches back, other customers turning to their table, “Chuuya, if you’re a sadist, I’d much rather find out in better ways!” He bangs on the table with flat hands, to which Chuuya’s veins bulge at, “Would you quit with that awful annual torture-?!”

“Come on, you do this every goddamn year!” Chuuya bickers back, “Indulge a little in what I put myself through for your ungrateful ass.”

“You do it because I don’t like it!”

“Well, true.” Chuuya shrugs, leaning back with folded arms, “But don’t you get at least a little tired from doing this shit constantly? I’d say this is a much needed change of pace-”

“First of all, how dare you suggest that this ‘shit’ is but a front. Maybe you can’t help but pretend to hate me– and I get it, after all, who could resist my charm? But I truly hate you-!”

“Uh huh.”

“-Second of all, I’d rather stay alive than ever go through that quote-un-quote: ‘needed change of pace’ for the third time in my miserable life!”

“That so?” The smirk that Chuuya wears sends Dazai’s long-have-been-numb nerves prickling in foreign agitation that he hasn’t felt in a long time-

“Oh my.” Chuuya’s tone and eyes instantly soften, and Dazai recoils back before he can help it, “Miserable life, Osamu? I’m so sorry to hear that. We can talk about it, you know-”

Dazai clasps his ears shut, “Shut uuuup!!!”

“As you wish,” Dazai grimaces even further because Chuuya just listened to him, “but do know I am always here to talk, yeah?” Chuuya unsheathes one of his gloves to take Dazai’s hand into his own, expression so uncanny as he genuinely smiles at Dazai. The brunette feels sick-

“I’ll avoid you for the whole day if you keep this up!” He threatens crackly, can’t bring himself to take his hand away, “The Agency is definitely pummeling without me helping with the paperwork.”

Chuuya normally would tell him that he slacks on the job anyway, but now he just simply closes his eyes, that same damn smile on his face, “Just say the word, and I’ll give you all the space you need. Never doubt that, mackerel.”

The pet name doesn’t grant him the normalcy he’s desperate for when Chuuya says it in that tone of voice, “No- You’re not supposed to-!” Dazai can sense that his lack of acutely predicting Chuuya’s responses might drive him crazy very soon, so he attempts to try to calm himself, “Aren’t there mafia business for you to attend, Mr. Executive? Does Mori even know you’re here?”

“Don’t worry, Osamu, I freed the whole day just for you.”

“Stop calling me that-”

“Anything you want-”

“Raaaaaghhh!!!” Now he takes his hand back, clutching it on his chest as if he’s been burned, “You’ll crack. You’ll definitely crack. There is no chance you’re keeping this up forever. Your tiny brain won’t handle it!”

But he knows that isn’t the case, because Chuuya’s tiny brain had handled it for the whole day during his seventeenth and eighteenth birthday, and now at 23, his tolerance to Dazai’s insults have significantly heightened, to the brunette’s sheer disdain.

Chuuya tilts his head a little, hair swaying, completing his sickeningly sweet demeanor, “I’d do anything for the most precious person in the world.”

“Eugh- I think I threw up in my mouth a little.” He gags with a fist on his mouth, voice groggy-

The waiter comes up to them, telling them that the other customers have complained about Dazai’s occasional shrieks. Chuuya, still so freaking sweetly, informs her that they were leaving already, pays the restaurant without complaining once about Dazai never pulling his own weight, and they take off.

“This is a nightmare.” Dazai says after a long moment of silence between them, something that never happens, “My feisty dog is suddenly nice, he’s definitely transpiring something wicked against me!”

Chuuya- Chuuya laughs, “You know you’re ridiculous with that…” He doesn’t say it meanly, wiping a tear, which Dazai’s brain haywires at-

“Really, now? Laughing at calling you my dog?” The smallest of frowns dares crease his forehead, “This is too much, even for you.”

“What? You’re funny.” Dazai’s face pales- greens even, “So, where do you want to go, birthday boy?”

Dazai bristles at the nickname, then inhales to calm himself, an idea springing up, “Fine. You asked for it, Slug!” He knows just the perfect way to break him, “We’re going to the arcade.”

He sees the flash in Chuuya’s eyes, and deems himself victorious. Chuuya would never maintain this bullshit at the arcade given his ridiculously competitive nature. He’ll definitely scream at Dazai once or twice out of habit more than anything-

Nothing.

Clearly Chuuya’s willpower has also improved through the years, because there isn’t a single aggressive shout, there isn’t any accusations of Dazai tampering with the machines (he had), and though Chuuya laughs and enjoys the rounds, what he utters after his loss is the straw that breaks the camel’s back,

“Aw shucks. Good match, that was fun.”

Dazai leaps from his seat and turns around the machines to reach the redhead, grabbing his cheeks with panicked eyes, “Chuuya, Chuuya are you in there?! I think you’ve been possessed!” He speaks to the eyes, sensing their amused confusion, “Do something to tell me you’re in there! Any sign!”

Chuuya smiles.

“Ahh!” Dazai lets him go instantly, “Begone, demon!!”

“Come on, now.” The not-Chuuya says fondly- eughhh, “Up for another round?”

“No!” This didn’t work. Dazai needs to think of other ways, make up a plan. Operation: exorcising this cloying demon out of his partner begins in-

“How about we go to my apartment? I have a surprise for you.”

Dazai’s eyes dart as his mind runs in terrifying speeds, addressing the other without looking, “I don’t trust you with surprises right now. You may be small, but you’re no less terrifying.”

Chuuya chuckles, “You’ll love it, trust me-”

Dazai gets into a fighting stance, gasping, “Do not speak of trust with that tone of voice, not-Chuuya!”

Chuuya chuckles again, and his silky tone coaxes him to follow him to his apartment, nevertheless. Dazai can’t believe he’ll have to endure seven more hours of this, planning to break a thing or two of Chuuya’s belongings out of spite if nothing else.

“Don’t think your façade is fooling me, I can see right through you!” He announces impatiently from the couch, leg bouncing up and down as Chuuya pours drinks from the kitchen, “You gagged at least twice through this, didn’t you? Admit it.”

Chuuya laughs again, a record in Dazai’s book. This is so ridiculous. “Stop cracking me up, I can’t pour the drinks.”

Dazai sulks, sinking into the couch, “Shut up…” But it’s weak, replaced by flusterment he can’t ebb down. He feels suddenly helpless with the lack of the reactions, and wonders if he’s losing his touch. The antique vase looks like it wants to crash into the floor in full speed so much right now.

“You’re a little red.” Not-Chuuya is suddenly in front of him, sitting down as he gapes up at him in amusement, “Cute.” He attempts to give Daza his drink.

Dazai, with crossed arms, huffs and turns away, “I’m not talking to you.”

“Why? Did I do anything wrong?” Chuuya asks gently with a smile, placing the glass on the table. Dazai turns even further in order to hide the other from his peripheral.

No, you didn’t. And that’s the problem.

“Your hair looks soft. Fluffy.” Dazai suddenly feels fingers running through the back of his head. His noddle whips so fast his neck feels like it cracked,

“Ew, ew! Don’t touch me, cheap-Chibi-replica!!” He doesn’t exactly flinch away, fuming, “The real Chuuya calls my hair a dirty mop all the time! Do better!”

Not-Chuuya brushes his bangs this time, fixated on them as he speaks, “Maybe he never told you those things because…” He pauses, eyes down-casting a little. Dazai begged him to say ‘you’re a pain in the ass’. It’s what he expects, it’s what makes perfect sense, it’s what aligns with the Chuuya he knows like the back of his hand, pleasepleaseplease-

“…he never really thought he deserved you enough to do so.”

Dazai rigids, “WHAT?!”

“He’s afraid of things he’ll lose.” Chuuya, to Dazai’s absolute disdain, explains, “So he tries his best to push everyone away. Everyone he’s sure will be too precious to him, everyone he’ll latch onto just a little too much, he tries his best to maintain his distance from th-”

“Chuuya, I have never been more serious with you in my life: Please stop.” Dazai numbly says, suddenly so, so exhausted.

The redhead’s mouth clasps, as per request, but he clarifies that it still isn’t over, “Only six more hours and I will.”

“Why?” Dazai stresses, uncomfortable, “You can end it here. Nothing obligates you to-”

“You never asked for your surprise.” Chuuya cuts him off.

Dazai blinks, turning to him, “If I see it, will you stop?”

“Only if you want to.”

“Of course I will.” Dazai rolls his eyes, “Now, on with it. If it gets the real Chuuya out, then the sooner the better.”

Chuuya smiles, but there is something solemn regarding it. He gets up, with Dazai observing his every move, and scurries through a drawer big and wide enough to accommodate stacks of files and documents. Dazai’s eyes narrow, never taking interest to rummage through this particular drawer for how boring its contents appear to be, but now his interest in piqued, as Chuuya finds what he’s looking for with a small: “Aha.”

Dazai thinks he sees an envelope in Chuuya’s hand as he ambles closer, but that can’t be right-

“Here.”

“Your surprise is a letter?” Dazai truly hasn’t been more confused in his life. He hates that he can’t see where this is going, inspecting the brown envelope as he speaks, “Chuuya, I don’t think there is anything you can’t verbally say to me now, do you? This is usele-”

His eyes widen, breath catching in his throat as he reads the name embedded on the paper.

From: Odasaku

Time seems to stop while Dazai reads the nickname once, twice. It’s in English cursive that can never be Chuuya’s handwriting, and his hands tremble ever so slightly the moment he registers the credibility of what he’s holding. This is real.

“You- wh-” He looks back and forth between the envelope and Chuuya’s gentle eyes, gaze never seeming to want to leave either.

Chuuya sits on the couch, voice subdued, “Your Executive desk was cleared by me after your defection, as per my own request. I was admittedly selfish– looking for anything you might have left for me before you left. Something to explain, anything-”

“Chuuya-”

“Hey, let me finish, will you?” Chuuya sends him a soft smile in reassurance, “I found this instead, read the first two paragraphs before I closed it again. It explained everything I needed to know, Dazai.” He leans back, drinking out of the wine glass, “You can read it privately if you want.”

But Dazai doesn’t get up, scrambling to take the paper out with shaky fingers. His heart wildly throbs once a long wall of text meets his widened eyes,

This is but my latest prose as a person worthy of being a writer, a person who is not tainted with blood. Dazai, if I die before seeing you one last time, I do not wish to end things between us on such terms. There is a lot I wish to tell you before I leave…

Dazai reads every word, eyes welling against his will, making the letters blur and scramble as one. Oda speaks of their time together, his fondest memories, his ideals- tells him he would’ve left a letter for Ango hadn’t it been for the circumstances. Tells him the name of his adopted children, the characteristics each of them had.

I, truly, have considered you one of them.

Oda informs him of how much he resembled a burnt black cat the first time they met, how he doesn’t seem as burnt now. Dazai chuckles wetly as Odasaku says that he’s happy he’d known him, even for a short while, even in their circumstances.

Whatever path you’ll choose after what occurs, please remember this:

The brunette suddenly hiccups, an ugly sound seldom forced out of him. He covers his mouth, finds his lips too shaky to form words, heart feeling more than all it had felt in almost half a decade-

“He said he’s proud of me, even before knowing I’d defect.” He isn’t sure why he’s whispering this to his partner, “He-” His cheeks feel wetter than before, to which he looks at his hand. Droplets of salt continue to fall on them so assertively, he thinks they might cause them to bleed,

“What is this- what have you done to me…?” Dazai knows he’s crying, he just doesn’t know why he can’t will himself to feel numb again. Everything is hazy and sloppy and wet, and he keeps the precious paper away, afraid it will get caught up in that uncontrollable mess…

“Do you hate it?” Chuuya asks faintly, with some regret in it. Dazai shakes his head, leaving the letter on the table-

“No, I don’t but- these monstrous things won’t stop.” He croaks as he wipes with both hands on his face, and to his horror the tears double, the sobs get even more violent, “I think I’ve been possessed, too…”

“Hey, come here…” Chuuya guides him through his fit, which Dazai blindly follows, till he finds himself with a weight on his laps and both arms and legs embracing him. Dazai latches back so tightly, trembling as he puts all of his force into the fists that both hit Chuuya lightly and grab the back of his shirt with. He doesn’t have to wipe the tears when Chuuya’s garment acts as a napkin, soaking every single thing he wishes to hide.

“He said he’s proud…” Dazai repeats, squeaks, burying his nose into the warmth of his partner.

“That he did.” Chuuya’s ungloved fingers caress his hair, and don’t stop until the persistent tears finally stop flowing. Dazai stays huddled in the warmth for more seconds despite himself, selfishly wishing to steal it all, before shifting to indicate his desire to draw away, and Chuuya instantly gets off of him.

He can’t bring himself to look at the azure pupils no matter how hard he tries, eyes shifting away to the table and the carpet and the hands on his lap.

It has been long since he’s felt this bare, much less over a gift. He had received many birthday presents in the last two years especially: Ranpo would give him all the sweets he could offer, Kenji crops from his field, Kyouka pretty daggers, Atsushi hugs and flowers, the Tanizaki siblings a cake of their making, Yosano fancy wine bottles, Kunikida would treat him to a meal, and Fukuzawa would orchestrate the whole party…

While it would all be appreciated, he never really felt any joy over being one year older. Most times he regrets ever living this long, so he doesn’t regard the gifts or parties done in his honor with as much gratefulness as he feels he’s supposed to.

But this? This one letter lying opened on the table?

It might be the best birthday gift he’d… ever received.

And he wants to let Chuuya know that.

“Uh.” What was he supposed to say again? What did normal people say in situations like this? Thank you? Sorry? “You’re… appreciable, slug.”

That was neither- what the fuck, brain??

Chuuya would have pointed his terrible attempt at being grateful out at any other day, but now he simply smiles relievedly,

“I’m glad you like it.”

This version of his partner is starting to prove that he isn’t so bad, after all.

Dazai frowns, still avoiding eye-contact, “No, um, what I mean is… mmmm….” He sinks so far in the couch, till only his head is reclining by the back of the seat. He crosses his arms and averts his face, physically forcing himself to say it, “tnks…” he whispers.

“Hm?”

It’s a beat, then Dazai roughly flops his head on Chuuya’s lap, because he can’t articulate his appreciation with words, and thus wants to show it by doing something Chuuya likes, which is having to look down to see Dazai instead of the other way around. He feels the other tense for a second before his hand reluctantly cups his brown hair in question.

“Thanks.” Dazai grits into Chuuya’s pants, then rolls on his back, finally meeting the amused blues, “Don’t get the wrong idea, demon, you won’t catch me saying this to the real Chuuya at all. But you get a pass. Only this once.”

“Might as well feel honored, huh?” Chuuya chuckles, and it’s truly genuine.

A small smile cracks Dazai’s face for a mere second. Wannabe-Chuuya is really more acquainted to handle these moments than regular Chuuya. It’s definitely why he waited for Dazai’s birthday to hand the letter to him– an excuse to show his raw and real care that Dazai undeservedly bathes himself in.

“So, do you want him back, now?”

Dazai doesn’t, but can't ever shed light on contradicting himself, so he dramatically says instead, “I’ll think about it.”

The redhead’s brow ridges, though not with his typical ‘I’m done with your bullshit’ frown. It’s with a smile.

He wonders when Chuuya ever learned to be this good of an actor.

Dazai feigns a long sigh, “Fine, you can stay a little longer…” then pauses, blinking upwards, “Wait- am I betraying real-Chuuya that way?”

“I’m sure he doesn’t mind.” Chuuya says as he strokes Dazai’s unkempt bangs away from his face.

Dazai’s mouth curls in displeasure because he likes it, “I hate you.”

“He hates you too, buddy.” It’s better to hear it in third person, like this part of Chuuya forever believes he is worth not being hated, “Wanna spend the rest of the day here or go somewhere else?”

“Energy’s gone, not-my-Chibi.” He twirls the long end of the fiery hair in a finger, “Outdoor activities will be a chore…”

Chuuya shakes his head and rolls his eyes in fondness, “This might be the lamest birthday setting ever.”

“That’s exactly right.” Dazai sneers, “But when were we ever conventional with the way we do things?”

“Touche. At least I got a cake and a candle.”

“Ugh, no. You know I hate formalities.”

They carry it out anyway, with Dazai ruining Chuuya’s attempts to sing properly, and Chuuya being patient through and through.  

His partner must have expected Dazai to want to stay home after receiving his gift, because they spend the next six hours doing everything Dazai likes– They play videogames, they cook and Dazai makes the kitchen an unsalvageable mess, they wildly dance together and stumble on their feet, they watch murder mysteries and brain rotting soap operas in a pillow fort, they play with cards and Chuuya loses every single time.

It's until there is fifteen minutes left till midnight, with Dazai getting his hair braided, that he finds himself glancing back with a devious idea in mind. Testing Chuuya’s willpower one last time wouldn’t hurt, would it…?

“Ah, so. I hate to admit it– who am I kidding, no I don't,” He gives an exaggerated winces as he glances back, “but I maybe, sorta bleached all your coats while you were in the restroom when I was mad at you.”

Chuuya pauses his braiding, staring at Dazai for a long while… then all of the veins on his body pop-

He gets yanked backwards by the hair, “Ow, OW!” Dazai laughs because finally, “My, Chuuya, you’re back sooner than expected!”

Chuuya grabs him in a chokehold, which Dazai tries to escape from, “I can’t fucking take it anymore,” He growls, and Dazai laughs even harder, “My coats? MY COATS, DAZAI?!”

“It’s tie-dye season! Never heard of tie-dye season?!” Dazai slips downwards, successfully scrambling away as Chuuya attempts to grab him but he isn’t fast enough-

“GET YOUR ASS BACK HERE!!”

Dazai's half-done braids bounce as he sprints, “Bring nice-Chuuya back first!!”

“SAY GOODBYE TO HIM FOREVER, BASTARD!”

“What?! Noooo, call me Osamu one last time!”

“IN YOUR WILDEST FUCKING DREAMS!!”

They pause the chase when Dazai’s behind the kitchen counter and Chuuya’s outside, if only to catch their breaths, “You know, if it weren’t for the fact that me being nice isn’t as effective on you, I’d have made it a staple on your birthday as well!”

Dazai grins evilly, as Chuuya pales.

“How would that go, again?” Dazai taps his chin, “Oh, Nakahara-Sama, You’re so smart and cool.” Chuuya’s face turns green, the piled urge to vomit since he’d started his act finally getting to him, “You are definitely not a dog and you’re actually the perfect height, goes nicely with your figure and strong build-“

“No, fuck! Euuugh!!!” Chuuya actively empties his stomach in a conveniently placed bucket, Dazai claps in victory,

“Aha! Maximum damage!!!” He points at him, “What comes around goes around, Slug!!”

“You’ll fucking pay for that!”

Chuuya breaks the door of the kitchen down, adding to the unhopeful mess Dazai’d made. Their wild goose chase keeps going till three in the morning.

And Dazai? Keeps laughing till all his heart’s content…

[industrialisland]

revised season 2 thoughts

Overall I thought it was fantastic.

The tone was different, yes, but the tone was always going to be different after Ed was heartbroken at the end of season 1. There was no way it was going to be the same show.

I loved that Stede honestly didn’t care about his lack of money or fancy things, he just wanted to get to Ed and take care of his found family. And it was completely in character for him to go overboard thinking he was a great pirate when everyone was pumping him up. Stede likes to be liked! He’s gone his whole life being tolerated at best, of course he’s going to embrace feeling powerful and celebrated! Of course he’s going to make Ned Low walk the plank with his crew cheering on, after he insults Ed. Of course he’s going to live it up after Ed tells him to enjoy himself.

But I don’t think Stede gave anything up to be with Ed at the end. He thought his life with Mary was monotonous because he didn’t love her. Being a pirate was a fantasy to get away from that life. Do I think they’ll be good innkeepers together? Hell no, they’re out of their element. But they are together, and now they have a chance to see what that means. A domestic life with Ed might be exactly what Stede never knew he wanted. Or maybe they’ll catch the next ship out of there looking for adventure. Maybe they’ll decide to travel!

And Ed is still working on himself. No he didn’t give great apologies for what he did. But the crew did very much kill him, like he was more or less dead. I think that evens it out for the people who were on the Revenge for the Great Kraken Tour 1717. He tried to make amends with Lucius. And his conversation with Fang shows that he really doesn’t consider what he’s done as something that needs to be apologized for- which would have been nice to see expanded on a little more, maybe apologize to the guys he deserted on the island at least, but I think there was just not enough time and we have to be content with having his apology to Fang as a stand in. Ed isn’t a healthy person. He’s been trying to find a new path for himself since season 1- being an aristocrat didn’t work, he didn’t fit in. Joining the navy didn’t work, Stede left him. Being a kinder, softer Ed didn’t work- Izzy threatened him. Even with Stede back, he’s floundering- he doesn’t want to be a pirate, and Stede does, so he runs away. Pop Pop told him to do whatever he might have been good at- and that’s being with Stede.

Is Ed a good person? Is Stede? None of them are! And that’s what makes them interesting. They love each other and they’re going to give domestic life a go.

Izzy’s death as symbolic for the death of Blackbeard was good. The death itself I still feel was not done the justice it could have been. A random gunshot from a hostage who should have been disarmed is a very disappointing way to go (and I still don’t understand what the plan was), and a thirty second funeral at the end of which Ed says “well, that’s that then” was a gut punch, even for those of us who didn’t like Izzy. But for all their conflict, Izzy and Ed loved each other in some way, and dying in Ed’s arms was right. Yes, I would have liked the crew to have been closer, but at the end of the day, he’s known Ed the longest, they’re family in a way that the crew wasn’t (yet). Their dynamic was fucked on both sides, but Izzy gave Ed closure and hopefully Ed gave Izzy some peace in return.

This death resonated hard with some people and I totally get that. Izzy had a beautiful arc this season and if you would have told me last year that I’d be sad about his death I would have laughed. It will be hard to have a show without him and I do hope that we see him next season in some way (no more flashbacks of things we already saw though please). The writers have their plans and I still trust them.

I still don’t feel like the background crew got their dues this season, and it is what it is. They rushed it, they didn’t have enough time, Max stuck their hands in, who knows. The last episode was chaotic. There were too many flashbacks. Things felt unfinished. But they are unfinished - we have another potential season to wrap things up. And there was no way this season was going to please everyone, even if it had all the episodes and budget it deserved. There was such a long time between seasons in which we all made these characters our own and I think a lot of people forgot that they aren’t going to be written the same way we saw them developing.

But we got some beautiful episodes, and some beautiful moments with Ed and Stede, and I look forward to where it goes next.

My biggest complaint is that I already wrote a fic of them retiring together after last season, I’ll have to find some way to do it again, lol.

[walkingwiththegods1]

Gods, Goddesses; Demigods, Demigoddesses and Humans, than belongs to The LGBTQIA+'s Community. (My post, celebrating The LGBTQIA+ Pride's Month!)

Hello, Lovely Souls!... This is a post I was thinking in make, since I readed somewhere online; than there is LGBTQIA+'s characters in Myths and Legends, but somehow... Those Myths and Legends are ignored, or intentionally shunned... Well, this post was made; for two reasons:

Than all than didn't knew this stories, become at least inform than they exists, and/or do their own research; (If you feel inclined to do so) and tell them to any person interested and tolerant, so we could ended the disinformation about LGBTQIA+'s in Mythology and Legend. Also, so any person of The LGBTQIA+'s Community; felt happy to being seen visible and represented, by powerful beings of ''The Myth and Legend's Era'', which... Some of them, are followed today. AND...

Because I notice than some of my followers, are of the LGBTQIA+'s Community... This post is my ''Thank You So Much, Card!'', for all of you: I hope you like this gift, than I send to all of you from the distance, gives you warm and light; makes you smile... And you kept it as a gift, in your heart! ♥

I hope than any person than find this post, enjoy to read it; as much I enjoyed to write it: Have a nice reading day, Everybody!

LGBTQIA+'s African Characters

The Akan people of Ghana, have personifications of Celestial Bodies; where Abrao (Jupiter), Aku (Mercury) and Awo (The Moon); manifest as Androgynus, or Transgender.

LGBTQIA+'s Aztec/Mayan Characters

Tezcatlipoca: He turned into a woman, and slept with the last king of The Toltecs; Huemac.

LGBTQIA+'s Chinese Characters

Lan Caihe: Is one of The Eight Immortals., whose gender... Is unknown.

Tu'er Shen: A man than, after being ordered to be killed; is turned into a God of Homosexuality and Protector of Homosexual Affections, as a way to repair his unfair death.

LGBTQIA+'s Diasporic African Diasporic Characters

Inle and Abbata: As result of being isolated and lonely, after been banished for their mother; they eventually become lovers, and being able to communicate by empathy. (Inle was mute, and Abbata; deaf... That's the reason they have to communicate between them, in this unique way.)

LGBTQIA+'s Greek Characters

Admetus: King of Pherae, was one of Apollo's lovers.

Adonis: One version stated than, the beautiful young man was beloved by both; Aphrodite and Apollo.

Amazons: They capture men once or twice in an year, only for reproduction; and the rest of the year... These admirable warrior women daughters of Ares, have deep and romantic relations within them.

Ameinias: A young man than fell in love of Narcissus, but... That didn't ended well, for the poor Ameinias!

Aphrodite: I readed in an extint online Encyclopedia, about a legend of the Goddess using a beard; and seducing maidens of a greek island, which results in pregnancy. (Plus: Their is an aspect of Aphrodite, called Aphroditus; where she have female and masculine physical traits.)

Apollo: He had lovers of both sexes, being the most famous: Hyacinth, The Muses (Yes... THE NINE OF THEM!); Cyniras, Cyrene, Hymenaios, Coronis; Phorbas of Thesaly, Hecuba, Admetus, and many others.

Achilles: His reaction to Patroclus's Death, during The Trojan War... Is of someone than losed to the Love of his Life.

Ares: It was said than Alectryon, was a lover of The God of War.

Artemis: She vowed to remain an virgin, and have nymphs as her companions in her hunting trips. Also, she defended fiercesly her chastity; so we can assume she is asexual. (Or... An Asexual Lesbian, maybe?)

Athena: She loved to Myrmex, an Athenian young woman known for her purity and intelligence... Until she said than she invented The Plough, (One of Athena's inventions) and Athena; turned to the insolent girl into an ant, ending forever her only romance. (And closing her divine heart to Love, forever.)

Caeneus: A woman than, according the first versions of the myth; after being with Poseidon, asked to be turn into a man.

Callisto: Zeus, transformed in Artemis; and Callisto slept with him, believing than he was Artemis. (Obviously... She was a lesbian, because she had sex with somebody than looked like the Goddess; thinking than Artemis herself, returned to the same feelings/atraction/desire!)

Dionysus: It is said than Dionysus, was The God of Intersex and Trans People, (Probably for his custome of sometimes dressing in woman's clothes, when drunk) and; he had romances with various men, including the Satyr Ampelus, and the handsome Adonis.

Helen of Troy: When Aphrodite went to talked to her, to convince her to continue to be with Paris... Her heart raced in her chest, by only seeing to The Goddess of Love; in front of her!

Helenus of Troy: The Trojan Prince, was a son of Priam and Hecuba... And Apollo's Lover.

Heracles: The symbol of Masculinity in The Ancient World, had adventures with women, BUT... Had closer relations with men, too: 11 of them in total, been Iolaus; Hylas, Admetus, Sostratus, Abderus and Nestor, as the most famous of Hercules's Male Lovers. (I don't know why, but... The idea of Hercules having boyfriends, sounds charming to me!)

Hermaphroditus: Was turn forever in a being of both sexes, after the nymph Salamcis; hugged to the young and prayed to The Gods, they will never being apart.

Hermes: He is accounted in mythology, to have relations with both; women are men. And... That he had some liaison, with the mythic hero... Perseus!

Hypnos: There is a tale, where Endymion; instead of being Selene's Love, was loved by... Hypnos: The God of Sleep and Dreams.

Iphis: A child being borne female, than was transformed into a man; so he could married with the woman he loved.

Kalamos and Karpo: Two young men, whose tragic end; is the origin of the water reed and the fruit of the fields than dies and revives every year.

Leucippus: A girl that was turn into a boy, to avoid his father's anger.

Poseidon: He loved to men too, including to the prince of Pisa, Pelops; and Nerites.

Orestes: It was said than, he had a romance with a young man; called Pylades.

Orpheus: An account said than he loved to a man, (Calais, a young Argonaut) before to fall in love to his wife, Eurydice.

Siproetes: A man than saw Artemis bathing, and Artemis turned him in a woman.

Thamyris: According to Mythology, is the first man to have loved; to another man.

Tiresias: The Seer, spended 7 years as a woman; for killing a female serpent while it was mating. (So... Now all you know: Killing mating snakes, turns you into a person of the opposite sex!)

Zephirus: He fell in love with Hyacinthus, (But... Hyacinthus choosed to Apollo, in the end.)

Zeus: The prince Ganymedes, so beautiful and charming; than Zeus tricked him and taked him to Olympus, where the prince became the Cup Bearer of The Mighty Ones; and Lover of Zeus, and; as far as I know... The only lover of Zeus, to be made IMMORTAL. (...End of The Story!)

LGBTQIA+'s Japanese Characters

Inari: Kami of Agriculture, than is draw as of various genders.

Kitsune: Trickster-Fox Spirit, than disguise as women; hiding their true identity (and gender); so they could trick men into sleep with them.

LGBTQIA+'s Native American Characters

Xochipilli: Mexica Deity, than has been interpreted, as The Patron God of Homosexuality.

LGBTQIA+'s Nordic Characters

Freyr: May have been followed, by Homosexual and/or Effeminate Priests.

Loki: Just in case you don't know, why he is in this list... I'll made a little resume: Crossdresing many times, being capable to change of sex many times; he had relations with both sexes, and... Let's not forget than he gave birth to some of his children. (Conclusion: Loki is not ashamed of his sexuality, and...Why he should be?! He is marvelous and perfect, and we love him just like that!)

LGBTQIA+'s Oceanic Characters

Ungud: An Creator Snake-God of Australia and associated with rainbows, than is sometimes male; sometimes female, AND... Sometimes, androgynous.

LGBTQIA+'s Sumerian Characters

Gilgamesh: His relation with Enkidu, was so intimate and close... Than is strange than is depicted today, as only Friendship in The Media.

LGBTQIA+'s Taino Characters

Sexless Creatures from the Trees: Is a VERY WEIRD MYTH, but... As the Americans said, 'To make a long story, short...'' One day, one of the man named Guahayona; took all the women and their kids to other lands, promising to the men than he will returned for them... Which never happened: The kids were abandoned near a river crying, till they were turned in tiny frogs; and the women were left in an island where it was said than even today, only women lived there. After a while, the men needed of female company... Found to beings with long hair, but with slippery skin and than wasn't men; or women. The Cacique, (Chieftain) called for men with thick skin than grabbed four of the beings; and after thinking, ''How the heck can we turned this weird beings, into women?!...'' they used a Inriri (A Caribbean's Woodpecker), and... Let's said, than it was ''The first operation of change of sex, in Myths'' (...As far as I know!...)

Now all you know: LGBTQIA+' People, has many representatios in Ancient Myths and Legends; which shows than our Ancestors were more tolerant and acepting in general, of all the people than we kindly calls Humanity.

That's all in this post: To all my followers, and to all the people than belongs to the LGBTQIA+'s; Community: Happy Pride's Month, Everybody! (Never give up... And fight for your happiness, 'cause only the ones than fight for their rights; will receive what their hearts desires the most!)

Than The Deities protects you always in each step you make, and helps you to arrived soon to that beautiful and peaceful future life in Earth; where you are loved and accepted, as a whole and wonderful human being... So Be It!

[izzysarchivedblogs]

Clint considers the plan with fishing, it was the exact kind of activity that was meant for contemplating and simply sitting with yourself when alone. A slow down and wait. When with a friend, that's when you would simply talk. Shoot the hit, get deep. Clint knows he and Rhodey talked about a lot of things, got a little personal, and came out with a better understanding.

It is not lost on Clint that's what this boat ride every well could be for them again. Hopefully, it won't go a volatile as his apartment or the plane. Although, he was afraid of what deep would mean for him given Clint's big obvious trigger and the places they could go; those would be tolerable with a beer buzz.

Or they'll keep it light, be able to sit and wait, take in the ocean mist and simply breath together. That was bonding, that'd be nice to just be able to sit in his sadness with someone. Fuck, he was pathetic. A gin and tonic sounded ripe about now.

Maybe fishing would lead to sex, he could hope.

❝ I grill up a mean steak if you remember any barbecues. ❞ Those were the days, trying to wrangle up any avengers they could. Current, different branches, reserves, ex-avengers. Anyone who wanted good cooking, a chance to celebrate their victories, and just gather like a family.

Clint's confused for a moment after he's said you can't get water from cow when Tony spits out what he had been drinking. Than comes the laugh and he has to tighten his grip on the wheel to hold himself steady from the laugh he lets out. He hadn't laughed like that since defacing Brain's property, actually maybe even more than he was laughing than.

❝ I did not plan that at all, I'm an innocent man. ❞ Clint smiles when Tony does bring him a glass bottle of chocolate milk and he goes to crack that open and drink it instead. It's good shit, and he's touched that Tony realized he wasn't going to have the alcohol-free fake shit and replaced it.

Listening the tale about Carol makes him smile, how the hell did she pull it off? ❝ I was jealous of her for that, not that you'd ever know. Absolutely hated her for that, totally thought it was cause of cosmic powers rights or something. ❞

Whatever else we got going on, we'll never be able to say we lived in the statue of liberty. Cling heaves a big sad, wistful sigh at that, ❝ No, we won't. She's insane for that; you lived in space for awhile, didn't you? ❞

Tony still couldn't quite believe he didn't know that Rhodey fished. He'd have to have words with his best friend. Well - maybe after they've both dealt with their prospective existential crisis.

"Yeah, we'll just drop some lines, chum the area, see what happens. There's some strip steaks if we don't catch anything. They'll go fine on the grill. Shit, we could even do surf and turf if we do catch something."

He leans back against the wall again and looks out at the harbor and just as he's about to take a sip of the fake beer, Clint, says you can't get water from a cow and he burst out laughing, spitting the drink across the deck. "You fucking asshole!" he cackles as he wipes his mouth. "You waited until that was in my mouth to say that didn't you!"

He goes to grab a cloth and clean up the mess he just made everywhere. "Well anyway, I brought you some so you don't have to worry about getting any water from any cows."

He wiped up a bit and threw the trash out, and took his place back next to Clint. "You can say what you want about New York, but she does look pretty from out here. You remember when Carol was living in the Statue of Liberty. That was fucking weird. I don't even know how she convinced people to let her live there. Imagine getting mail delivered there. The UPS guy just launches things from the boat because he doesn't want to do all those steps."

He gave Clint's shoulder a pat. "Whatever else we've got going on, we'll never be able to say we lived in the statue of liberty."

[xbarrjallenx]

Okay so idk if this is a rant of an ask for advice becuse ddeep down I might know the answer but I'm tellingyou anyway..

For a year or so I'm seeing this guy who's working at this mini grocery store at a random train station in Amsterdam, I always foundhim to be attractive but he rarely innitiated any onversatyion outside the usual 'hi' , he never greeted me when passing by on his way homke or anything like that either which was fine sincee we didn't knew each other.

Hoever as time went by we started talking a bit more and he seemed to genuinly be friendly to me, he even asks me how I'm doing sometimes andat some pointhe's a bit of a playful teaser, which I am too so we're basically teasing each other from time to time. He's got the most beautifulsmile when he's talking to me and I think I've seen those twinkles in his eyes like a little who has seen Star Wars for the first time. Haha

Today I saw him again and it was quite the (new) usual but this time he even approached me after his work when he was about to go catch his metro. My bus had a delay so he saw me standing there. We talked a brief moment until he had to go.

Thing is, at some point I asked for his instagram which he didn't mind giving, even though he's not that active I still decided to dcheck his acount and I found out he has a kid and maybe a girlfriend?? He never talks about her or his kid but I believe he knows that I know. I wouldn't ind asking him out especially since we are on casual talking terms but I would never be a homewrecker. Maybe they have broken up a long time ago i thought but when i asked him if he wasn't going to celebrate Christmas with his family he would only nod his head without speaking or even looking me in the eye. Something's up but i don't know what.

Thanks for reading my rant. haha. Feel free to comment as I'm very curiouss what tyou thinkabout this

omg, first of all… i feel so flattered that you typed all of this to me. TO ME. i mean, i’m so happy to have a nonnie open up like this to me.

anyway, i get where you are coming from and i strongly believe that a friendship is a strong foundation of a relationship. i mean, it’s nice that he talked to you and that you are talking more but i would actually test the waters first.

maybe he is single and has broken up with the girl, but the fact is that i have trust issues, you know? i wouldn’t ever want to put myself in a position where i’ll be the villain of the story, even though my intentions were pure and, in this case, you wouldn’t want to be the homewrecker. many guys have this tendency of being too friendly with people, not minding how their partners would feel about some stuffs.

also, i read the follow up anon and maybe he talks to this colleague about you, but maybe it’s time to befriend the colleague first and test the waters with her, you know? maybe you become friends and she might know more about him- hoping she’s a girls girl because i would totally be honest about certain stuffs if i were her, i care about my friends not being out in a bad situation and i’m one to not tolerate stuffs that would hurt the other girl.

my advice is to befriend both of them first, test the waters, you know? maybe that would be easier to understand what his real intentions are. you never know in these days!

i hope to have helped you somehow, but feel free to rant about it in my asks. i am not invested and please update me about how things go between youuuu! also, please keep safe!!!

(please pardon my trust issues towards the guy.)

[gracefullou]

you are not as nice as the other blogs are to the h*rries, l*rries, 1d*ckrries with their fucking stupid questions and fake concern for louis.

and i THANK YOU for that! 🤍❤️💛💖💚💜🧡🩵♥️🤍

Idk what this is about but you're welcome 🥰❤️. Honestly, they make it so easy for me with the way they prove me right everyday 😭. Like i personally believe if you are a fan of that man, you don't really love Louis, at least not like louies do and not like he deserves bc with the way that man's fans are so cruel towards Louis and in our business every single day, i could never give that man a single stream that his fans will later use to prove how superior and more successful their fav is even if he wasn't as shitty as he is (don't even get me started on how someone can stan 2 people with opposite ideologies and principles and artistry). Still, i really really tried to tolerate larries who are not as annoying about their ship but everytime i came to the conclusion that they hate Louis and don't care about him (don't let that in Louis' lane in their dn fool you). In the pandemic, i avoided anything related to that man (his actions made me nauseous) and didn't really interact with larries at all but i hoped that they had developed more respect for Louis in those couple of years. Then, the album title and the setlist leak happened and the way those disgusting people were acting and CELEBRATING, saying it was Louis who did it just told me everything i need to know: They'll never change 😔. They hate Louis (even when they don't realize it), they have no respect for his art and his hard work. His well being, his career and success will always be secondary to their delusions (the ship, 1d reunion and the fucked up image they have of him that nothing can shake off). In short, they're Louis antis even when they don't realize it so i don't owe them any kindness. These are people who hate on my fav on the daily and have no problem using his late mother/ sister to fuel their delusions, have no shame discussing the paternity of a stranger and declaring how he's not a father everyday (like who are you!!!). When i say i hate them i mean it. And don't even get me started on those miserable hrries 😭 they use larry as an excuse for their Louis obsession when he was the one between the two who denied the ship and is taking the larrie hate (larries criticize that man's actions sometimes but in the end it's always poor Hzzy J*ff forced him to 🥺 but Louis doesn't have that luxury, to them he's the daddy boss 😭). Those anons with those faux concerns aren't fooling anyone btw, i know a h/larrie ask when i see one so don't waste time and energy pretending otherwise 🫶🏽

[sukirichi]

A Feral Naoya.

A rare cute feral side and the everyday mean feral side.

I was going to write about Naoya but what about your baby who got his Naoya's attitude of hissing and attacking people who is not you or his father. Super intimidating and demanding too.

# soft hours with daddy! naoya

# part of the trophy wife collection 

# anon, thank you sm for this, i super enjoyed writing about this and i’m soft byeeee

There’s something about the way in seeing you swell with his kid that makes Naoya on edge; possessive and feral.

He’s always been possessive, if his manners of staring down anyone who even glances your way and always proudly holds your hand whenever, wherever, with no regards to the apparent frowns on his elders’ faces. This side, you’re very much familiar with, but ever since it’s been announced that you’re going to be parents soon, it’s like a switch has been flipped in your husband.

Naoya’s refused to leave your side since, spending less and less time working or coming home earlier than before because ‘he needs to check on you and the baby.’ It’s cute, really, but there’s no need for him to breathe down your neck when he’s already barking to the resident doctors to watch an eye on you every time he’s not around.

Along with the announcement of the newest addition to the Zen’in estate, rumors have spread like wildfire, the chatters between the servants growing louder with each passing days.

Others speculate that your baby might be just like Naoya-sama, a spoiled young boy… but there are also a hopeful bunch who’ve claimed that as long as you’re there, there’s hope for children in this god-forsaken clan, the heir will grow up right. You voice no opinions on it despite the fact you wished to defend your baby and your husband, focusing on your health instead to deliver a healthy baby boy that the clan celebrated, which, to no one’s surprise, really did turn up to be the spitting image of his daddy.

Little Naori, as much as he was an angel in yours and Naoya’s lives, was also a troublemaker.

The amount of times you’ve been called to his school because he made girls cry from claiming they had cooties has been horrendous. It doesn’t help that his nannies aren’t able to calm him down either, for little Naori only preferred his parents and refused to settle down unless he’s seen his mommy or daddy, which brings you and your husband driving to his daycare with worried looks on your faces.

Naori is already there, grumbling with his little, chubby hands that no one was allowed to touch him. His teacher, a poor soul named Yuuta, is grimacing as he speaks to your toddler in the most soothing voice. “Naori, hey, your mommy and daddy is coming—”

“Do not speak to me!”

“Naori!” you scolded, your husband in tow with a stern expression on his face. Upon seeing you, Naori stops baring his teeth and hissing at his pale teacher who seems drained. Instead, the little boy wobbles on his short legs to climb up to his dad who is already carrying him with one arm, flicking his nose that makes the boy giggle.

“Daddy here!”

“Naori, you were mean to your teacher,” you tell him with a stern expression, though you make sure to keep your voice leveled and soft as to not make him cry. “What do we say?”

“Nooooo…”

“Naori,” Naoya speaks up this time, using his naturally authoritative voice that makes your son just his lower lip out in a pout. “Your mother is telling you to apologize. Now, go and say sorry.”

“But Daddy doesn’t say sorry when he’s being mean!”

At your son’s statement, you flash your husband a glare, to which he scoffs that the tables shouldn’t be turned and he’s not the one at fault. Boys, really, they’re such a pain in the ass. Thankfully, Naoya is smart enough to understand your unspoken thoughts and turns to Yuuta, his jaw clenched and voice almost choking while Naori buries his head in his dad’s shoulder.

“We’re really sorry about that. Thank you for looking after my son.”

“I-it’s no matter, sir, I’m just glad you’re here.”

“Now, Naori,” Naoya pats his son’s back, “What do we say?”

Little Naori’s reaction is immediate. Quivering lips, eyes turning glossy and chubby fingers curling into a fist – if you and Naoya aren’t here, he’d have thrown a fit already. You step forward and cup his cheeks in your hand, soft as you pat his hair that matches his dad’s. “Naori, we need to apologize when we’re wrong, okay? You don’t want to be on the naughty list this year, do you?”

“Naori not naughty,” he sniffles back, “Naori good!”

“I know you are, baby, so be a good boy and apologize to Yuuta, okay?” After some convincing, Naori finally looks up to his teacher but ducks his head once more, fiddling with his fingers as he mumbles out a weak I’m sorry. Yuuta beams at the boy’s apology and even ruffles his hair, which sends Naori into a flushed mess.

“Apology accepted, though be nicer to the girls next time, okay? See you tomorrow!”

Naori is already asleep in your lap as Naoya drives you home, and you’re not an exclusion from the exhaustion of it all. Pressing a kiss at your son’s forehead, you lean back to the seat and sigh. You’re about to sleep when Naoya’s hands that are previously on the steering wheel snakes to your thigh for a light squeeze, his smile soft and intimate.

“Thank you.”

You blink back. As much as you love him, hearing those two words such as I’m sorry was rare. “For what?”

“For everything,” he nods to your son, “For marrying me, accepting me, loving me and always being patient with me but not tolerating my bad sides either. You’ve given me the whole world and more, so I promise I’ll be better to you from now on.”

“Better?” you echo with a silent laugh as to not wake up a drooling Naori, “You talk as if you’re awful to me, my love, which I assure you’re not.”

“I know but just,” he pauses with a slight furrow of his brows, “I think I need to be a better person…so I can be better a husband to you, and a good role model as a father for Naori. Maybe I should start apologizing and being nicer to people.”

Naoya, being nice to others that isn’t you or your son? While it seems unlikely of him, the thought is definitely welcomed.

Love and affection for this man completely bursts through you that you can’t help but lean over the console to kiss his cheeks, giggling when your lips meet heated skin. Even after years of marriage, Naoya is still just as affected by your presence from the first time he saw you, and you too keep falling and falling for him each day.

“I’ll be a good wife and a mom to our son too, Naoya, I promise you that.”

[moodys-art]

La Squadra - New Year's Eve edition

Chances are, no one in La Squadra's team really has the time to fully prepare for new year's eve due to them having a busy schedule. However, going to a nice, classy restaurant would be their type. But this year, Risotto allowed his team a few days break to celebrate, which means they all decided to stay at the hideout and prepare the festivities.

Warnings : alcohol mention!

P.S. : Sorry if this is unimaginative, I don't feel like it's my best. I started writing it a few days ago but had to finish it today. At least it's not into my drafts anymore! Hope you'll like it nevertheless.

Prosciutto is the first to wake up on the morning of 31st december. He WILL wake up with a dramatic gasp and will immediately get ready for his rest -but not so much- day. He likes to have everything ready for the night and will not tolerate the team messing around. He does however, pass through almost every room to tell them to wake up, that they need to get ready for the night.

He aggressively prepares breakfast as well, eats it while reading the papernews and then, straight to the cleaning. He actually is so implicated in the task that he doesn't realize how loud he's being, like moms who thump the vacuum all over the corners, and energetically rub the windows. Prosciutto simply ends up waking up the entire hideout.

Once they're fully awake, Melone, Formaggio and Risotto will join the poor man to help him hang the decorations. Melone insists for placing as much of it as they can, because it's not an ordinary day ! Ghiaccio, who hates being woken up in such a hurry, will be grumpy for the rest of the day and chances are, you won't see him come out of his room except to refill his cup of latte.

This evening, you all start with some appetizers. Prosciutto is the one who cooked the most. Melone and Illuso bring all the junkfood that isn't yet on the table, including all varieties of chips, to Risotto's happiness who likes to taste every single bag of chips before dinner. He truly is a lover of those, even often indulging in them on his own. Formaggio and him are great competitors in that matter, which unnerves Prosciutto so greatly, because he would never buy chips for such an event, and considers those a lack of taste. However, once he's had a bit of wine in his system, he won't be too much of a bother about it, you'll even find him stealing the bag of salt and vinegar chips for his own satisfaction.

While the main course is cooking, someone will put on music, or you can bet Melone is the first one to throw himself on the dancefloor. He's already quite in the mood and will not hesitate to pull you with him. Pesci sits awkwardly while watching some of the others starting to get into the dance, but cannot resist your invitation to join when you give him your hand. Ghiaccio scoffs when proposed to dance, and regularly leaves the table to check on his chocolate lava cakes in the oven.

As the clock approaches midnight, you can bet the party gets even more lively. Some are keen on champagne and wine, others have sugar highs from sodas. Prosciutto has thrown his apron across the table and yells to whoever listen a story from his childhood, eyes glistening and face red from the wine. Illuso absentmindedly scrolls through the playlist Melone and Pesci created, trying to find at least one good ridiculous song to make Risotto dance to.

The cake is delicious but careful with the chocolates though... Formaggio bought an entire box of cheap ones molded like bears but mixed them with those disgusting ones filled with liquor. It was Illuso's idea. If you don't drink alcohol, you'll simply get the onion covered in chocolate, no big deal ! But if you do, they'll be pleased to watch your face skrunkle in shock when you bite into those! Prosciutto doesn't realize the chocolates are different. He just carries on telling his silly story while eating them. Risotto is too far gone on the dancefloor, as Pesci succeeded to drag him in. It's the only time of the year you will see him get so loose.

Good thing that Ghiaccio set a timer beforehand, because the atmosphere is almost too chaotic and not one of them would have noticed that it was finally midnight. Melone and Formaggio are going to get very loud and sing at high-volume while some others applaud or cheer for the new year. Who will take the second place next to you on the couch to pass out from exhaustion? It's up to you!

[alrightberries]

“may i?”

❈ pairing: levi ackerman x reader

❈ genre: fluff & angst.  ❈ word count: 8k

❈ summary: you’re the medic assigned to take care of captain levi as he heals from the explosion. you’re also the only person he tolerates.

alternatively: in which you create prosthetics for humanity’s most war torn soldier.

❈ trigger warnings: manga spoliers. profanity. mentions of violence, blood, gore, and death. mentions of sexual themes.

a/n: levi’s kinda ooc bc i couldn’t write the progress of his relationship with reader without making it longer than it already is. also this is medically inaccurate (re: healing time of broken bones and amputations) for the sake of the plot so pls no one throw hands. 

Levi doesn't like looking at mirrors.

There was no tragic backstory behind his distaste for the reflective surface, no deeper meaning or hidden symbolism as one would expect from a man with his past. The reason behind it was simple: he just saw no reason to.

He wasn't vain, wasn't too concerned about his face, didn't care much to look at his physical appearance aside from when he had to cut his hair or get ready for the day to look presentable to his comrades. He knew he was attractive, and effortlessly so. The little letters and gifts he’d received from fans and admirers proved as much, and his title of “Humanity’s Strongest” only added to the appeal. Really, there was no reason for him to always be looking into a mirror.

But now... Levi simply couldn’t understand why that mindset had vanished. It was replaced with the fervor to always be staring at his own reflection— not out of vanity but out of disgust.

The disgust of staring at his mutilated face.

He warily lifts up the small mirror he held in his hand, features contorting into a grimace at the man staring back at him. Scars and cuts littered his cheeks— some deeper than others, but none as terrible as the long jagged scar that ran down the right side of his face. It started from his forehead and ended at his bottom lip, held together by ugly black stitches the medics had hurriedly sewn on him the second he got back to the base. His right eye was split in half, completely useless, completely blind; held together by the same black stitches that donned the ugliest scar of all.

And Levi couldn’t help but think that this man was hideous.

He was hideous.

Levi reaches out with his right hand to touch his scars out of habit. He feels his heart tighten when he realizes there’s only air where his fingers should be and he nearly breaks the small mirror he held in his good hand from how hard he was squeezing it. 

The mirror makes a gentle clink as he sets it down onto the mahogany of his desk. Bitterly, he stares at his three fingered right hand. His pointer and middle finger were gone, nothing but pathetic stumps protruding from his knuckles where they used to be. It was still covered in bandages and a makeshift brace so he wouldn’t strain himself when he moved, but he knew it was useless. He couldn’t move those stumps even if he tried.

He probably should’ve been thankful to have made it out of that explosion alive— not unscathed, but alive nonetheless. Though Hange had tried cheering him up (“Look on the bright side, we can wear matching eyepatches now!”) he simply couldn’t find it in himself to celebrate coming back so... useless. 

His writing was as legible as chicken scratches. His right eye spasmed in pain every time he blinked. He couldn’t even try to relearn how to use the ODM gear with his new circumstance, and he mentally curses out his orders to stay put and heal.

Too many things were lost, too many people, too many lives.

All because of that damned explosion.

All because of that damned bearded bastard.

Levi is pulled from his thoughts when three soft knocks reverberate throughout his otherwise quiet office, and he rushes to put his eyepatch on and hide the mirror in his desk drawer. He attempts to sit in what he hopes was a seemingly ‘professional’ position but his stiffness gives away his discomfort. 

“Name and business.”

“Y/N L/N. I’m here for your daily checkup.”

He feels himself release a breath he didn’t even know he was holding once he hears the voice. Your voice. 

“Come in.”

The wooden door creaks open before it closes with a soft click, floorboards making minuscule sounds at the weight as you make your way to his desk. Levi pretends to look busy as his good eye scans the document he held in his hand. 

The sound of porcelain clinking against porcelain grabs his attention.

“Brought you tea.” You murmured. “I figured it won’t be up to your standards again but I did try my best.”

Levi still doesn’t look up as you set the tray down on his desk, and his good hand reaches for the steaming cup to take a small sip. His eye twitches at the taste.

“If you were going to bring me shit tea anyway then why bother.”

He hears a gentle chuckle but doesn’t see the way you smile at his contradictory words and actions. He made no move to throw the “shit tea” away, something he was infamous for with teas that didn’t meet his standards. Instead, he keeps sipping, gently placing the cup down onto his table once he finished.

“I thought that maybe distracting you with terrible tea would keep your mind off me changing your bandages.” You explained, and Levi nods but doesn’t speak. When silence once again filled the room, interrupted only by the occasional crumple of documents you knew he wasn’t reading, you take it as your cue to pick up your pen and clipboard to start the checkup.

“Have you felt any discomfort or pain in any of your extremities such as your right eye or your right hand?”

“No.”

“Have you felt any throbbing or other sensations in any part of your body?”

“No.”

“Have you experienced any fevers, headaches, dizziness, or sudden spasms in any part of your body?”

“No.”

He hears you set your clipboard down and his skin tingles from your doubtful stare. He didn’t have to look to know it was there. He risks a glimpse at the papers attached to the wooden board in your hands but just as he expected, you didn’t write down any of his answers.

“Have you lied to any or all of the questions I’ve asked during your routine checkup for today?”

“...yes.”

A soft sigh escape through your nose and your eyebrows furrow in disappointment. “Captain, lying to your medic won’t get you to the battlefield faster. You’re of no use to anyone when you’re injured.”

Levi clicks his tongue at your reply but he holds his smart ass comments back. He knew you were right, and it infuriated him so much.

“Fine,” he grits out. “My right eye’s been twitching all day. The fucking stumps on my right hand don’t feel like stumps. It feels like I still have fingers there, and I know it’s complete bullshit since they were lying next to my face when they got blown off.”

His angry glance finally lands on you. “That the answer you were looking for, oh medic of mine?”

It was now your turn to click your tongue. “Not quite,” you mumble, writing down his answers onto the file in your hands. “Feeling your missing limbs even after they’re amputated is normal. It’s called phantom touch.”

You place the clipboard back onto his desk and reach into your pockets, pulling out pristine white gloves before gingerly putting them on.

“Your right eye still spasming though, that’s concerning.” You add. Your hands slowly reach out to his face, and Levi momentarily flinches away out of habit. But you made no move to touch him.

He eyes you warily, tense muscles relaxing even just the slightest as he sees your gentle stare.

“May I?” You ask softly, a caring smile on your face.

Levi only nods, not trusting his words, and he once again tenses up as he feels your hands unbuckle the leather straps of his eyepatch before setting it down onto his table. He keeps his bad eye shut.

Your hands are gentle as you touch his face, touch nothing but a soft caress in such a way that his tender stitches felt no pain. Your eyes are focused on his stitches, lacking any judgement or ill will, and Levi’s suddenly aware of how close you actually were to his face.

Your eyes were beautiful, he noticed. They always were. The little furrow in your eyebrows as you concentrated was cute, and the soft caress of your hands on his cheeks as you inspected his face felt... nice, and dare he even say relaxing. Momentarily, when he finally lets himself adjust to the atmosphere, he lets his tense muscles ease.

“Can you open your right eye, Levi?”

“Y-yeah.”

FUCK.

What the fuck.

Did he just fucking stutter?

Levi’s surprise is only painted on his face for a few mere seconds before he schools his expression back to one of stoicness and neutrality, and he prays to all the existing gods he knew of that you wouldn’t notice.

He risks another glance at you. One of your eyebrows is arched and the corner of your lip is quirked up in a small smirk, but you dared not comment on the captain’s speech mishap.

Fuck. So you did notice.

Before he could try to save face by dishing out some bullshit reprimand of being disrespectful for calling him by his name and not his title, the words die on his tongue as you lean in impossibly close and oh god your noses were almost touching, your eyes are even more beautiful up close, and what the fuck is—

“Captain,” you repeat. “Can you open your right eye please?”

Oh, right.

He doesn’t speak as he does what he was told. He feels his eye open but no vision comes to his senses. 

“It’s looking... not so good.” He hears you mumble, face contorted into one of concern. “It’s actually looking pretty bad.”

Levi scoffs. “Not one to beat around the bush, are you.”

You roll your eyes, the small smile once again returning to your lips.

“How long have you been keeping the eyepatch on?” You ask. Your hands are holding his head in place now, grasp a little more firm but not enough to hurt.

“An hour at most.”

“Are you lying again?”

He sighs. “Yes.”

You nod but made no further comment, leaning back to grab the clipboard once more to write down your observations. 

“So,” you start. “Are you going to tell me the truth or do I have to poke your bad eye?”

Levi’s lips turn into a frown at the notion. “I’ve kept it on the entire day. And I know you’re probably lying about poking my eye, but in case you’re not, no. I do not want you poking my eye.”

You nod your head again, writing more things down onto your little clipboard.

“You should let it breathe. Keep it on for an hour or two at most but take it off when you sleep. Too much friction with the eyepatch might cause irritation.”

As the consultation draws on, Levi tries (keyword: tries) to be as honest as he could. Not that he could be dishonest when you were so good at snooping out his lies, though. You were already used to his stubbornness.

He wasn’t lying, however, when he tells himself that his heartbeat did not speed up when your hands gently held his own as you changed his bandages and cleaned his amputation; he wasn’t lying when he tells himself that the tips of his ears were not burning a bright red, cheeks flushed as you asked him to take off his shirt; and he definitely wasn’t lying when he tells himself that his dick did not twitch in his pants when your hands caressed his abdomen and back, accidentally hitting sweet spots he didn’t even know existed, to inspect his still purple bruises and healing ribs.

Yeah, he definitely was not lying.

“Okay, I think we’re done for today.” You say cheerfully. “I’ll be back same time tomorrow for another checkup.”

He glances up as he finishes buttoning the last buttons on his shirt. The gloves from your hands are taken off and tucked back into your pockets, and you hand him a small vial full of pills.

“Take one of these, twice a day at most, whenever you feel pain in your right eye.”

“I’m not feeling any—“

“Sure you’re not.” You cut him off with a smile. “I believe you. But feel free to contact me for any pain or discomfort you feel at any time of the day. I’ll be more than glad to find you.”

Levi says nothing, opting to instead stare at you as you gather the now empty teacup and kettle, placing them back onto the tray along with your clipboard and pen.

“Oh, by the way.” You speak, walking towards the door and opening it. You don’t spare him another glance as you finish your sentence. “I don’t think I can prescribe any pills to lessen blood flow to your dick.”

The door shuts with a soft click behind you, and Levi’s momentarily mortified as he processes your words. He risks yet another glance, this time down to his lap.

Shit, he thinks before he sighs. His hands readjust the hard-on in his pants.

Nothing goes past your observant eyes.

“Name and business.”

“Y/N L/N. I’m here for your daily checkup.”

“Come in.”

Levi doesn’t bother to look busy like he did last week, you noticed, because this time he was actually busy. Which was odd considering he was taken off paperwork duty until he could write again.

“What’re you up to?” You ask, setting the tray down onto his desk and pouring him a cup of tea. Your eyes curiously glance at the papers scattered about his usually clean desk, each filled with indiscernible writings of his name.

“Trying to write. I’m useless until I can.” He mumbles before he scoffs. “This would be easier if I had all my fingers.”

You nod along to his replies yet made no move to stop him. You picked up your pen and clipboard to write things down as well.

“You’re not supposed to be using your right hand, your amputation is still too tender.”

“Tch, what do you expect me to do then?”

“Uh... use your non-injured, complete left hand?”

Levi blinks at your words, and he has half a mind to slap his forehead for being dumb and not thinking of that. Which he undoubtedly would’ve done had you not pushed the steaming cup of tea closer to his sitting form.

“Have some tea. You look like you’re about to pop a vein.”

Your smart remark is met with silence and a steely glare, and surprisingly, as Levi drank the tea you prepared, he notices it’s not downright terrible.

“Your brew’s better.” 

“Yeah. I finally took your advice of using a thermometer to get ‘the perfect temperature’ after you complained about my ‘shitty tea’ for the nth time that week.”

Levi hides his little smirk behind the teacup, silently reveling in his small triumph before setting it down. From the corner of his eye, he notices you eyeing something, and his heart drops as his gaze follows your own.

The mirror. He forgot to hide the mirror.

Discreetly (or as discreet as he could) he takes the mirror and shoves it back into his desk drawer. You had many questions, that much he knew, but he was thankful when you didn’t push it further.

“Shall we begin?” You ask instead.

“Yeah.”

“Name and business.”

“Y/N L/N. I’m here for your daily checkup.”

“Come in.”

Levi’s been trying to write again, you surmised, as you glanced at his focused eyes and the tenseness of his shoulders. Scattered papers still littered his desk and he was still trying to write his name. This time though, you were relieved when you saw he was using his left hand.

“Finally took my advice?” You asked, pouring him a cup of tea.

“Regretting it.” He doesn’t look up from his task as he answers, something you noticed he always did. “It’s been three days since I took your advice and my handwriting’s shittier than it was then.”

You smile, hand reaching out to hold his incomplete one that was clenched into a fist on the desk. He immediately stops writing, opting to instead stare at your hand atop his before glancing up at you.

“What are you doing?”

“Making you relax. You might tear your stitches.”

He feels you give his hand a gentle squeeze, and the warmth of your hand is suddenly gone from his own. You reach for the cup of tea you prepared, and he wills his cheeks to not show his blush at the small gesture. You slide the teacup across the table.

“What makes you think holding my hand will make me relax?” He asks snarkily. He reaches for the tea with his good hand.

“Are you relaxed?”

Levi ponders the question in his mind, noticing how his muscles were no longer tense, his shoulders were now slumped down, and his eyebrows were no longer scrunched. He sips the tea.

“Your brew’s still shit.” He replies instead.

“Name and business.”

“Y/N L/N. I came here for your daily checkup.”

“Come in.”

Your head peaks out from behind his door as you enter, closing it with your foot and making your way to his desk. You were no longer surprised when you saw him still writing and scribbling messily at his desk as he’s done for days now, and you discreetly eye the papers as you pour him his tea.

“You don’t have to keep bringing me tea.” He comments, still focused on writing.

“I know.” You reply. “But how am I going to perfect your brew if I don’t practice?”

Levi glances up, and he raises his eyebrow as he sees you sat on his table, a cheeky grin on your face. He makes no move to scold you for being so casual in his office and instead reaches out to take a sip of the tea. He notices your expectant eyes, the grin on your face widening as he nods in approval.

“Your tea’s not bad today.”

“Really?! You think it’s good?”

“I said not bad, I didn’t say it was good.”

“Name and business.”

“Y/N L/N. I’m here for your daily checkup.”

“Come in.”

The first thing you noticed as you entered Levi’s office was, of course, the scattered paper around his desk, face focused as he continued to practice his writing. The second thing you noticed was that he was no longer using his left hand.

“It’s barely been two weeks. Did you give up already?” You ask as you pour his tea.

“I write better with my right hand.” He simply replies, not even glancing up as you slide him the beverage. He uses his good hand to reach out for the cup, silently preparing his tongue for another unpleasant attack.

He takes a sip and his eyebrows shoot up from surprise. The tea was... delicious, absolutely delicious, and Levi couldn’t find anything to complain about. The temperature was right, it wasn’t too bitter but wasn’t too sweet, and the aroma was delectable. He takes a sip once more to double check if his taste buds were deceiving him, but the second sip was just as good as the last.

His suspicious eye makes contact with yours, a shit eating grin painted on your face as you eagerly awaited his feedback. The porcelain makes a sound as he sets it down.

“You bought this from the tea shop across the barracks. That’s cheating.”

“For fuck’s sake!”

Three soft knocks reverberate through the door to Levi’s office. The captain hastily hides the papers with your name scribbled on, shoving them inside his desk drawer. A shiny glint catches his eye before he could close the shelf and he pauses as he realizes it was his mirror. He hadn’t taken it out in a while. He was always too distracted with criticizing your piss poor tea to even think about his appearance.

“Name and business.” He calls out, still eyeing the shiny object.

“Hange Zoe. Y/N asked me to do your daily checkup.”

Levi's eyes widened, heartbeat stopping for a second as he heard Hange’s voice. Where were you?

“Come in.” He closes the drawer as the door opens and Hange walks in. 

Levi couldn’t help but notice that he was becoming uncomfortable the closer his friend got; skin prickling, hands sweating, his collar feeling a little too tight. Little by little getting more conscious of himself as Hange walked closer.

Was this what insecurity felt like?

He briefly wonders why he didn’t feel it with you, but his mind answers him with a simple fact: you were the only person who’s seen him mangled and bruised, and each time, you showed nothing but gentleness and care. Yet even with this knowledge, the notion that a person other than you would be doing his checkup today didn’t sit right with him.

He pushes his discomfort to the back of his mind, telling himself to remain objective. But it didn’t stop him from subconsciously adjusting his eyepatch and hiding his incomplete hand underneath the desk. He eyes the tray in Hange’s hands, spotting the kettle and teacup.

“I don’t want your shitty tea.”

Hange doesn’t look up as they pour him a cup, humming a tune Levi doesn’t recognize as they hand him the warm beverage.

“It’s not my shitty tea.” They reply. “It’s Y/N’s shitty tea. They made you a batch before they left for the mission.”

Levi’s good hand pauses for a brief second as he reaches for the cup, mind still processing the fact that Hange said Y/N and mission. You hadn’t mentioned anything to him, and since he wasn’t allowed paperwork duty until he could write legibly, he wasn’t aware of any missions.

“I see.” He takes a sip, and he immediately squints his eyes in doubt once his tongue caught taste of the flavor. “This isn’t Y/N’s tea.”

Hange looks up from the clipboard they were writing on, eyebrows are arched in curiosity. “What?”

“This isn’t Y/N’s tea. This is from the tea shop down the road.”

Hange’s confused face stays still for a few seconds, silently assessing whether Levi was being serious or not. A smile cracks on their face, turning into a grin as small chuckles left their lips, before finally turning into full blown laughter. The captain waits for the eccentric soldier to stop cackling and start explaining, but Hange’s answer only serves to confuse him more.

“Nice try, shorty. You crack me up.”

Levi ignores the remark about his height. “What do you mean?”

“Y/N owns the tea shop down the road. Made the recipe for the black tea you love so much, even.”

The captain’s good eye twitches, and if Hange notices, they don't comment. Levi takes a sip of the tea once more, a little more doubtful this time, before sighing in content as the drink makes its way down his throat.

“Why did Y/N go on the mission? I thought they were to be my caretaker until further notice.” He chooses to ask, placing the cup down and pretending to busy himself as he absentmindedly starts practicing his writing.

“Y/N is our topic medic, their skills are more valuable on the battlefield than in an office with you.” They reply, and the captain pretends that the truthfulness of the statement doesn’t sting the slightest.

“Besides,” Hange pulls out white gloves from their pockets, sliding the cloth over their hands to prepare for the checkup. “Y/N personally asked to be reassigned.”

Levi sputters and chokes on his tea at the sudden revelation, and he feels Hange’s hand patting his back as he tries to compose himself. You asked to be reassigned? But why?

“Why?” He manages to choke out before once more descending into a coughing fit. Hange silently hands him a napkin.

“They didn’t say.”

Perhaps you were done with his incessant criticizing of your tea making skills (if so, then why’d you keep brewing him a crappy batch? Clearly you could’ve made good tea whenever you wanted.) Perhaps you grew tired of watching over him everyday when you could’ve been attending to more injured soldiers in the medical wing or the battlefield. Or perhaps you felt a little cooped up in the office with him, hating that you were confined when you could’ve gone on missions to help the wounded.

Whatever your reason may be, Levi finally gets himself to stop coughing and wipes his mouth. Any questions he had, he would ask you. For now, he pushes his feelings to the back of his mind to ask a more important question.

“Why are you here and not on the expedition, Commander?”

Hange shrugs.

“I wanted to bond over eyepatches with you.”

Levi was trying, okay? He was really trying.

But god, the new caretaker assigned to him was nothing short of a complete and utter noob. His bandages were always either too loose or too tight, his touches every time he tried to inspect Levi’s scars were always an ironclad grip, and worst of all, his tea was pure and utter shit.

“Watch it!” Levi barks, and his caretaker jumps about two feet away from him at his yell. “What’re you trying to do?! Are you inspecting my broken ribs or trying to give me a broken rib?”

Oh, that too. His caretaker was the hands on type, something Levi wouldn’t have minded if not for the fact that his caretaker was also heavy-handed, and Levi had had enough of this bullshit.

“Stop it, just stop. Get out of my office, right now, and find me a new caretaker.”

“B-but, Captain, there’s no one else who can—“

His caretaker is cut off when he makes eye contact with the enraged captain. Levi’s eyebrows were knitted together in anger, and the glare on his left eye was nothing short of terrifying. The fact that he only had one good eye left did nothing to lessen the intimidation of his glare; if anything, it made it even more intimidating.

“I will not repeat my order. Go.”

The boy in front of him nods nervously, head bowed down and metaphorical tail tucked between his legs as he quickly scurries out of the room. Once Levi hears the soft click of the door shutting, he takes a deep breath and lets his body slump into his chair.

That was the fifth caretaker he’d kicked out this month. He wasn’t picky, he tells himself; he just had standards. Standards that apparently these damned amateurs they kept sending him couldn’t meet.

Briefly, his conscience contradicts him; the image of a certain top medic popping in his mind, one that he hadn’t spoken to in almost a month since they dropped him out of the blue. Maybe, just maybe, he was being picky. With a dash of passive aggressive and a sprinkle of butthurt. But Levi quickly brushes that thought aside when he remembers the incompetence of all his recent caretakers.

That was definitely it. He wasn’t petty, all his caretakers were simply idiots.

The captain hears three loud knocks on his wooden door, and he grits his teeth as he mentally prepares himself for whatever fuckery the clown caretaker they assigned to him was about to do this time. True to his words, Levi did end up breaking a rib from how heavy handed the last one was, and though he knew it was partially because his body was still quite fragile, it didn’t hurt his request for a new medic.

“Name and business.”

“Y/N L/N. I’m here to do your daily checkup.”

Levi feels his eyes widen and heart speed up, and he once again rushes to hide all the papers scribbled with your name as he shoves them into his desk drawer. He composes himself, trying to appear uninterested and professional as he speaks.

“Come in.”

The door squeaks open and Levi doesn’t bother to hide the way his eyes soften and his shoulders slump in relief as he sees the familiar sight of you. A soft smile dawned on your face as you gently kicked the door close, walking towards his desk and setting down the tray you held in your hands.

“Heard you fired everybody who came after me.” You mused, eyes teasing as you poured him a cup of tea. He didn’t think he’d miss someone pouring him a cup of tea as much as he did now.

“Their tea was shit.” He replies, taking a sip of the warm beverage and holding back his sputter at the god awful taste. “Yours is too.”

You chuckle, picking up the clipboard and pen to start writing for today’s checkup. “Can’t help that I suck at brewing tea.”

“You don’t have to keep making me shit tea anymore. The secret’s out.”

You freeze in your spot, eyes widening for a fraction of a second before you nervously clear your throat. Levi definitely noticed.

“I don’t know what you mean.”

“I know you own the tea shop, Y/N. Stop lying.”

You let out an irritated sigh. “Hange told you, didn’t they?”

“Yep.” He replies, popping the ‘p’.

I’m going to fucking kill Hange, you think to yourself, silently gathering your composure once more. Levi watches you intently, continuing to sip on the terrible tea before deciding that he’d assaulted his taste buds enough and placing it down.

“Why’d you do it?” You hear him ask. “And don’t lie to me. You’re not the only one who’s gotten better at spotting lies.”

Why’d you brew shitty him tea? Is he that affected by it?

Your reply was already on the tip of your tongue, head glancing up from your clipboard to say your answer. But your words don’t come out and your mind suddenly cleared when you saw the look in his eye.

Levi’s eyes were nothing short of gorgeous; a beautiful gunmetal gray with a gaze deadly enough to kill a man with one mere look. But right now, even though they were schooled into his usual look of disinterest, you could see him... wavering. A mix of unanswered questions, curiosity, and— for the briefest second you swore you saw— hurt.

“I take it you’re not asking me why I brewed you crappy tea for the past three months?”

Levi clicks his tongue in irritation. “No, you idiot. I’m asking you why you left out of the blue. If you had a problem you could’ve brought it up with me—“

“No!” You quickly interrupt. “No, god no, you’re perfect.”

The captain’s eyes widen, and you suddenly realize the words you’d spoken as you quickly try to explain before Levi could interject.

“There was no problem, okay? I didn’t request to be reassigned because I had a problem. It’s quite the opposite, actually.” You murmur.

He eyes you curiously.

“What do you mean?”

“I think I have a solution. May I?” You gesture, asking if you could sit on his desk. Levi nods, not understanding why you needed permission now when you’ve done it of your own volition countless times before, but he suddenly understands when you sit directly in front him and not across from him like you usually would.

He watches as you pull a small brown box from your jacket, placing it down onto his desk before opening it. Levi is quiet as he eyes the item inside.

“It’s just a prototype for now. I was hoping to carve out a better one in my free time, one that would be a custom fit, but my free time kinda went flying out the window when you started firing people left and right until no one would accept you but me.”

You pick up the wooden prosthetic fingers and gently place them onto his desk. Your hand opens palm up, waiting for Levi to be comfortable enough to lend his hand to you, and he does so silently.

“The prosthetic’s made from redwood and the joints are connected by small metal rods. It’s light and durable, and I weatherproofed it so it wouldn’t break down so easily when you use them.” You explain, unwrapping the bandages around his hand. “It wasn’t that hard to figure out the concept, actually. I just took a pair of standard issue Survey Corps gloves and cut out all the fingers. Then, y’know, attached the wooden fingers to where the pointer and middle should be.”

Levi could only nod. You weren’t sure if his silence was good or bad and you couldn’t read his look. But Levi— Levi was speechless. In his mind, he dared not speak in fear of looking like a fool. Especially not in front of the person who gave back a piece of himself (quite literally, at that.)

He tenderly looks at the way you fitted the prosthetics onto his own hand, fastening brown leather straps around his wrists to secure the glove. The minute the glove is on and he sees all five fingers for the first time since the explosion, he feels like he’s about to cry.

“I had Hange help me with the anatomy so you could still bend them as you would normal fingers. I couldn’t figure out how to make them move on their own though, so you’d have to manually do that yourself.”

To demonstrate, you bend one of the prosthetics, the wood imitating the bend of his finger but not springing back up despite his brain commanding it to do so. You watch intently as he fumbles around with his hand, moving the fingers about. The wonder and astonishment in his usually unimpressed eye didn’t go unnoticed by you, and it spurred  you to continue on.

“Unfortunately, it’s not strong enough to flick the switches on ODM gear. You still have to relearn how to hold your blades when you’re cleared for training again.” You say regrettably. “But it’s strong enough to hold a pen.”

Your hand reaches for the forgotten quill across his desk, dipping it in the inkwell before offering it to him with a small smile. Levi slowly takes it, still speechless, as he readjusts his prosthetic to hold the quill and write.

His writing is still shit, undoubtedly; still no better than chicken scratches as he messily writes down the words. But god, the sight of the indiscernible handwriting next to five fingers brought tears to his eyes as he finally finished writing his name. The slightly legible letters of ‘Levi Ackerman’ stared back at him.

Levi couldn’t hold it back anymore. He immediately set the quill down before standing up to engross you in a warm embrace. You tense in his arms, not used to Levi willingly initiating any form of physical touch at all. But as he tucks his head into the curve of your neck and his shoulders start shaking, splotches of wet dripping onto your collarbones, you feel your arms encircle his waist, bringing him closer as you whisper sweet nothings into his ear and let him cry in peace.

Your hands ran through his scalp, willing him to calm down. Though normally the sight of a crying Captain Levi was something you never thought you’d see, you couldn’t help but feel honored he chose to share this rare moment of vulnerability with you.

You let him cry, still holding onto him, giving him his time. Briefly, you wonder what he was thinking. What pushed him to tears? Did the captain ever let himself mourn his losses? Does he mourn his friends, his family, the little pieces of himself that he’d lost along the way?

Though you had a million questions in your mind you dared not pry as you continued to comfort the weeping man in front of you.

Finally, after a few moments of nothing but silent sniffles and your sweet words, Levi finds it in himself to finally speak.

“Thank you, Y/N.”

Night had fallen around the base, encasing the world in darkness that beckons slumber. Levi continued to stay awake, still in his office, staring at the prosthetic you had given him hours before.

Curiously, he feels himself form his right hand into a fist, not surprised that the two wooden fingers didn’t comply like the rest. It was imperfect and he himself thought it could use some tiny adjustments for the sake of comfort— something he definitely would bring up to you as requested.

And yet, despite knowing his ‘fingers’ were nothing but wood, leather and metal, he couldn’t help but think it was the best thing he could ever ask for. 

Silently, under the lone glowing light of his oil lamp, Levi pulls out a blank sheet of paper and begins to turn his feelings into thoughts, thoughts into words, and words into sentences as his quill meets the white surface.

Hours later, he finds himself in front of your quarters, a candle in his left hand while his right held a pristine white envelope. The envelope containing unsaid words, unspoken wishes, and hidden feelings.

Your eyes are sleepy when you answer the door, half lidded and hair a mess when his knocks had woken you from your slumber. You rub your eye, adjusting to the light as you stare at the person in front of you.

“Captain?” You ask, stifling a yawn. “What’re you doing here so late?”

He doesn’t answer your question. Instead, he opts to look at you with an unreadable expression as he asks, “Can I come in?”

You stare at him for a few seconds more, and the thought of you slamming the door on his face crossed Levi’s mind; but that didn’t happen. Rather, you nodded and ushered him inside your bedroom, closing the door behind him as you once again flopped onto your bed. 

He places the candle down on your bedside table and now he was unsure what to do. He had a plan— or, he thought he had a plan— but awkwardly standing in your room in the middle of the night wasn’t part of it.

Quietly, you chuckle at the sight of Humanity’s Strongest looking so odd and out of place, unsure and slightly panicked. You pat the spot next to you, inviting him to sit, and he complies.

Both of you had your knees pulled up to your chests and you were thankful when you noticed Levi had taken his shoes off before sitting on the bed. A comfortable silence encompasses the atmosphere in the dimly lit room. Shoulders touching, heads not daring to turn because of the close proximity. 

From the corner of your eye, Levi looked like he was deep in thought. Not the kind you saw plenty of times in the battlefield or in strategy meetings, not the kind you saw when you entered his office as he hastily tried to hide his mirror. But the kind you saw when he quietly suffered through his own living hell. 

“Couldn’t sleep?” you ask, finally breaking the silence. He shakes his head. 

“Well, what brings the mighty Captain Levi to my humble little room?”

“Levi.” 

“What?”

“Call me Levi.” He murmurs, downcast staring intently at the envelope on his lap. “In this room, I’m not your captain. I’m not your patient. I’m not Humanity’s Strongest.”

You feel your eyebrows scrunch as surprise and curiosity paint your face, but not because of the captain’s offer to call him so casually. No— the surprise you showed was because he unclasped the prosthetic you made, not even sparing it a second glance as he carelessly threw it to you, and you barely managed to catch the limbs you’d spent countless hours and sleepless nights to create.

“Levi, what are you—“

“But I’m not a broken teacup for you to fix either.” He says, eyeing the stumps on right hand. “I’m not a doll who’s missing some parts. I’m not a charity case accepting donations.”

You were looking at him now, head turned in his direction as he unclasps his eyepatch and lets it fall onto his lap. He raises his head, eyes making contact with yours.

“I’m just Levi.”

A few moments of silence pass but neither of you look away. The reason why the captain continued to stare wasn’t something you knew. But the reason why you never looked away was because of his eyes. 

Levi’s eyes were still as gorgeous as you remembered them to be. Though his right eye was a different shade from his left, a lighter and paler shade of gray; though it lacked the light and emotions his unharmed eye bore; though it had a jagged scar running through it from where he was hit, you couldn’t help but think that his eyes were still the most beautiful eyes you’d ever seen.

Gingerly, you lift up your hand to touch the right side of his face where his battle wounds lie, the prosthetic forgotten as it falls somewhere in the sheets. He doesn’t flinch like he did the first few times you did it, when you reached for his face during checkups to inspect his scars. But it didn’t stop you from asking.

“May I?” 

Levi doesn’t answer. Instead, he brings your hand to rest on his cheek as his head leaned closer to your touch. His eyes closed momentarily, almost as if he were reveling in your warmth. But they opened once more, and you willed yourself not to get lost in the sea of gray.

“You were never a charity case to me, Levi. Or any of the things you just said.”

“Then what am I to you?”

Your heart stops, eyes widening ever so slightly at his question. Would you tell him? No, you couldn’t. Not when—

“Don’t lie to me, Y/N.” His grip on your hand tightens a bit, not enough to hurt but enough to distract you from your thoughts. You realize the hand that held your own against his cheeks was his broken hand, his mutilated hand.

...would you really tell him?

You sigh, eyes finally leaving his. “You’re just another soldier who got hurt from a battle, asking a medic to take the pain away.”

Your hand slips out of his grip and goes back to your side, and you turn away from him once more. 

“Are you lying?” He asks.

“No.”

“Then look into my eyes and tell me what I am to you.”

“I can’t.”

Your voice cracks ever so slightly, hesitant but determined to stick to your words. And Levi knew that he was never going to get an answer. He sighs, shoulders slumping down in defeat. It was now his turn to look away from you, gaze falling to his lap. The envelope holding the letter crinkles and he’s reminded why he’s here.

“I know.” He whispers back. “But do me a favor.”

He doesn’t look your way as he hands you the letter. He doesn’t look your way when you silently took it, eyeing the red wax seal that bore his initials, fingers tracing over the edges before—

“Don’t open it yet. Open it tomorrow morning before you come in for my checkup.”

You only nodded in response. You reached out, placing the envelope on your bedside table before once again sitting next to Levi. Just as you had started, a comfortable silence blankets the atmosphere. Shoulders touching, heads not daring to turn because of the proximity.

But this time, it was he who breaks the silence.

“I don’t know what the future holds.”

“Hm?”

“I don’t know what the future holds.” He repeats. “I could die in action tomorrow and be one of the bodies they wheel back from war, or you could die trying to save someone in the battlefield. Even if neither of us die tomorrow, there’s always a possibility that we’ll die the day after that. And the day after that and the day after that. Such are the risks of our jobs.”

He takes a deep breath. “But tonight, I don’t want to focus on tomorrow. I don’t want to focus on what the future holds. I don’t want to focus on titans or enemy troops or looking after my team.”

“Then what do you want?” 

“You.” 

Your eyes soften. “But what am I to you?”

You didn’t know what to expect, what his answer may be. But you know you didn’t expect it when Levi’s fingers gently grabbed your chin and coaxed your head to look in his direction. You didn’t expect it when you opened your eyes and met his, his warm palm resting on your cheek. And what you didn’t expect most was for his eyes to look at you with so much love, so much care and adoration. Gone were the facades of boredom and disinterest; the stoicness and detachment they always seemed to reflect. All there was left was softness, warmth, and what seemed to be the unmistakable swirls of vulnerability.

“You’re just another medic too busy putting other peoples’ lives before your own.”

“Are you lying?” 

“No.” He whispers. “But you make me want to plan for a future I know we won’t have— a future we can’t have.” 

And for the first time, you knew he meant it. You knew what he meant. 

In your line of work full of death and violence and risks almost too big to take. In what you once thought was your little world, turning out to be too big for you to handle. In your personal brand of hell where tomorrow wasn’t guaranteed, and loss was the only constant— it was enough. This small moment was enough.

“You have the most beautiful eyes.” You whispered, entranced. A soft chuckle leaves Levi’s lips, eyes turning into crescent moons so fitting of his gray orbs and your heart twitches at the sight and sound of his melodious laughter.

His thumb brushes over your cheek and your eyes meet his once again, the beautiful shades of gray staring you back. You didn’t know who did it first but at this point you didn’t care enough to find out because slowly, you both leaned in. Slowly, you both closed your eyes. And slowly, you both tilted your heads.

He pauses.

“May I?” Levi asks, lips merely inches away from yours. You nod.

“You may.”

And suddenly, the distance between your lips was no more.

There were no fireworks, no explosions in your heart or butterflies in your belly. There was no feeling of cloud nine, no feeling of want or need. There was only warmth in your chest, the feeling of a small fireplace crackling and glowing in the coldness of the night. The feeling of warm sheets and warm bodies cuddled up in an embrace.

Home. 

The feeling of home.

Because that’s what you were to Levi, and what Levi was to you.

“Name and business.”

“Y/N L/N. I’m here for your routine checkup.”

“Come in.”

As the door opens and you set the tray down on his desk, hands gently holding the kettle to pour him his cup of tea, you noticed that Levi was still trying to write. But what caught your attention wasn’t the fact that it was no longer his name he tried to scribble, opting to write down complete sentences. What caught your attention was that he was wearing his prosthetics, and his eyepatch wasn’t on.

“Did you read the letter?” He asks. His hands were still writing and his eyes were still staring at the papers in front of him. But you could tell he was anxious.

“Yes.” You simply reply, and he nods.

“Good.”

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[fandom-imagines]

Little Miss Favourite

Fandom: Harry Potter

Pairing: Teacher!Snape X Legal!Granger!Reader 

Warnings: Teacher x student relationship x)

Words: 2.5k 

It would be a lie to say that the Granger sisters weren’t incredibly smart, anyone could see it. Whilst Hermione, the younger sibling, was exceptionally talented with spells, Y/N was talented in the art of potion making; not that she wasn’t talented at other things also.

Due to her consistently high scores in potions, Y/N had caught the attention of her favourite teacher: Severus Snape, despite his annoyance towards the younger Granger. Whilst he found Hermione insufferable, Y/N was more than tolerable in his honest opinion; not that he would ever admit that to anyone, maybe not even himself.

Perhaps it was her confident personality, her boldness or her smarts, Severus would never know. Of course, it wasn’t only him that had his attention focused on her, many people did. Those people included Hermione’s friends. Y/N knew this, how could she not? The way Harry did his best to show off whilst Hermione rolled her eyes and Ron got all embarrassed, it was obvious; at least to her. Even though her personalist screamed confident, she wasn’t mean like other people at Hogwarts, not often at least.  

“Morning Professor,” her words were sweet as she greeted the dark-haired man, early as always.

“Good morning, Miss Granger,” Snapes tone was kinder than usual, but without it being clear. To anyone else, it would seem normal.

“Got a date for the Yule Ball yet, sir?” Whilst her question was genuine and not flirtatious, Severus couldn’t help but wish it was.

“Why would I bother with something as childish as having a date?”

“I shall take that as a no,”

He could hear the stool she usually seated at drag out from beneath the desk before she seated herself on top of it.

“What about you Miss Granger?” Y/N, who had forgotten what she had previously asked him, was confused at his question. “Surely someone like you must have a date,”

A sight blush ran up her cheeks at his words, eyes wide.

“No sir,” she giggled. “Not interested in anyone that’s asked me.”

Her words caught his attention, eyes glancing towards her for a split second before returning to the work he was marking. It was Harry Potters; he could almost roll his eyes.

“Why is that?”

“Immature men that feel like I should go with them because they’re popular? No thank you, give me a mature and unentitled man any day,”

For the second time in five minutes her words caught his attention, suddenly distracted by what she had said rather than being distracted by Potter’s work.

“I see,”

It wasn’t long until the rest of her class began to pile into the dungeon, taking their usual seats as Fred and George came to sit beside her at their typical desk.

“Morning, Y/N/N,” the greeted in perfect synergy, almost as though it had been rehearsed but she knew better than to expect that and simply laughed.

“We heard something,” Fred began.

“Potter is wanting to ask you to be his date to the Yule Ball.” George finished, the twins laughing at Y/N’s shocked face.

“Please say you’re joking,” she pleaded, desperately hoping that it wasn’t true. “He’s so much younger than me!”

“Oh and Hermione is going with Krum,”

“This day just gets worse and worse,”

“Weasleys, detention.” A harsh voice interrupted their conversation as to be expected.

“But sir!” They groaned, once again in unison. “She was talking too!”

“Not as much as you two.”

*

The great hall was quiet, everyone there working on their essays, everyone being the fourth years. Fortunately for her, Y/N was allowed to sit and work alongside the younger students having been given permission by Professor Snape himself.

“Hey Y/N,” Harry’s quiet voice pulled her attention away from the parchment in front of her. “I was just wondering-“ His words were soon cut off by a hand shoving his head into his own parchment.

“Silence,”

“Yes, Professor Snape.”

An amused smirk covered Y/N’s lips as she turned her own attention back to the work in front of her that was soon to be finished.

“Later guys,” she shot the trio one last smile as she walked towards Snape, handing him her essay with a small smile, one he almost wished to return.

“I’m sure this will be as excellent as always, Granger.”

“I sure hope so, sir.”

With one final nod, Severus dismissed her.

*

Music blasted throughout the hall as the Tri-wizard champions begun to dance with their partners. Y/N and her own date, who ended up being George due to both forgetting about the dance until the night before, stood laughing at Ron’s dress robes.

“He looks like our great aunt,” George chuckled, his words making Y/N snort in amusement.

“Poor kid. He looks so embarrassed,” she giggled.

“Well, looks like its our turn to dance. Care to join me, Granger?” George grinned, offering him her hand which she gladly took.

“After you, but can you even dance?”

“Nope,”

“Good, me neither.”

Their dance was horrendous, and they were both glad when the music ended, the pair running off the dance floor in laughter, hands still together.

“That was- “George began, only to have his sentence finished by his dance partner.

“Dreadful?”

“Yeah,”

Their fit of laughter was cut short by another voice joining the conversation. “Nice dancing guys!”

“Shut up, Fred!” This time it was Y/N and George’s turn to speak in unison, something that triggered a smirk to grow on Fred’s lips.

“Alright, alright, calm down you two,”

*

“I almost feel bad for him,” Fred chuckled, catching George and Y/N’s attention as they followed his gaze.

“I would but he gave us detention and not her, talk about favouritism!”

An idea popped into Y/N’s head, as she removed herself from the twins’ arms.

“Where are you going, Y/N/N?” Fred asked. “Wait are you-“

“I feel bad for him, okay!”

The twins burst into laughter as they realised her plan.

“I bet you my entire allowance that she can’t get him to dance,” Fred whispered as they watched Y/N walking towards Snape.

“You’re on,”

*

“Evening, Professor,” Y/N greeted, desperately trying her best to not show her nervousness.

“Good evening, Miss Granger,” He returned her greeting, turning his attention fully to her. “Shouldn’t you be with your date?”

“George? No, we both forgot we needed dates, so we went together. He’ll cope on his own,” The girl giggled, glancing back at said man to see both twins smirking at her. “You look lonely, want to dance?”

“Do I look like the sort of person to dance?”

“Do I?” She joked, enjoying the small smirk that pulled up at his lips. “It’ll be one dance and then I’ll let you go back to enjoying your own company. It’s a teacher and student dance anyway!”

*

“No way…” Fred gasped, watching as Snape and Y/N headed to the dancefloor.

“I knew she could do it! You now owe me your entire allowance,”

“Shit,”

*

“See it wasn’t too bad, was it, Professor?” Y/N giggled, aware of the fact that everyone had been staring at her dancing with Snape.

“You stepped on my foot at least three times,”

“I said I don’t dance!”

She celebrated a silent victory as Snape shook his head, a small smile pulling at his lips.

“This is true,”

“Welp, I’ll leave you to enjoy your own company again!” The older Granger grinned, giving him one final nod as she headed by to the twins who were still in shock.

“Shut your mouth, Fred. You’ll catch flies,” Y/N smirked, placing her hand on Fred’s chin to shut up mouth that had been open since she managed to convince Snape to dance.

“Did you bewitch him or something?! How on earth did you manage to get him to dance?” George asked in shock.

“Night guys, thanks for the fun time.” She winked, downing the rest of her drink that she had left before leaving the hall to head to bed.

*

“Miss Granger, you’re late,” Snapes’ words ran throughout the dungeon.

It was strange, how he knew it was her before he had even turned around to face her.

“Sorry Professor, I had a detention.”

“Well now you have another, stay after class.”  

*

“Good luck, Snapes detentions are horrible,” George chuckled, giving Y/N a reassuring pat on the back.

“Yeah, we would know, Miss Favourite,” Fred chimed in with his typical teasing tone.

“Thanks, that makes me feel better. I’ll see you guys later,”

“Good luck.”

The second everyone had left the classroom, Snapes attention was on her.

“So why did you get a detention?” His words were questioning, not malicious. It was almost as though he was genuinely curious.

“I got in a duel,” Y/N shook her head with a slight laugh. “Malfoy was being, well Malfoy. So, yeah.”

A grin covered her lips as Snape shook his head in slight amusement; it was cute in a way.

“Next time don’t get caught, it makes my classes a lot easier,”

“Got ya, Professor,”

“Good, you may leave,”

*

“That was quick, did he have to leave?” Fred, who had been waiting outside for about two minutes, asked.

“Little miss favourite,” were her only words as she shot Fred a wink, just like she had done at the ball a few weeks ago.

“I swear he has a crush on you or something,”

“Yeah, imagine. Professor Severus Snape developing a crush on a student, nice one George. Why are you two even here?”

The twins, who had been caught red-handed, shared an amused look, quickly rushing into action by grasping Y/N’s arms, tugging her along.

“We need someone to test our latest concoction!” They spoke in unison.

“No, no way! Merlin knows what you’ve put in that!”

“Either you help us, or we’ll tell everyone about your little crush on the potions professor,”

“Fine.”

*

“Fred and George Weasley, you come here this instance!” Y/N’s voice shrieked, her words echoing throughout the entire Gryffindor common room.

“Run!” Was all she heard, followed by laughter and footsteps leaving through the portrait.

Y/N rushed after them, hell bent on causing as much annoyance to them as they had to her.

“I will kill you!”

“That’s not very nice now, is it? You love us really,” George teased her once more before darting away.

“George Weasley I am faster than you and you know it!”

It wasn’t a lie, Y/N had been, and always will be, faster than him. No matter how many pranks they had to run away from, the twins would never be able to outrun her.

“What have you done to my hair?!” Y/N demanded to know the second she caught both boys by the collar of their robes. “Please say this comes out, I don’t want my hair to be yellow and green forever, I hate it!”

“Well you see, Y/N/N,” Fred chuckled with a hint of nervousness. “We don’t know, you’re our first consumer!”

“Fred, I am begging you, I look like a lollipop.”

“I’m sure you taste as sweet as one too, Y/N,” a Slytherin by-passer commented, clearly having heard the entire conversation.

“Shut th-“

“Detention and ten points from Slytherin,”

Fred, George and Y/N shared a terrified look as Professor Snape stood behind the trio.

“Trying a new style are we, Granger? It is quite bold,” despite the blunt words, there was an almost undetectable teasing tone laced in his words.

“Not willingly, Professor,”

“Then why did you do it?”

“They blackmailed me!”

“With what?”

The twins smirked at each other, as though they were sent on a mission to ruin her day.

“She has a crush, Professor,” George smirked at the, now multi-coloured haired, girl.

“George Weasley!” In a swift movement, Y/N rushed towards the ginger, only to be stopped by a hand holding her robe. “Professor let me go!”

“Isn’t she cute, Fred?”

“Adorable, George,”

“I hate you both.” Y/N, who had accepted her fate of being held my Snape (which didn’t seem too bad in all honesty), sighed.

“You love us really,”

“You wish, Fredrick.”

“Don’t call me that!”

“If you three have quite finished,” Snape interrupted their quarrel. “I think I know how to remove that colour from your hair, Miss Granger. Follow me.” There was no room for debate as the potions master turned and rushed towards his classroom.

“I’ll kill you,” Y/N mouthed before rushing after him.

*

“Sit,” Snape said, lightly kicking a stool out towards Y/N before walking towards a cupboard that, she assumed, had potions or at least ingredients for them.

“Are you sure this will work, Professor? I really don’t want anyone else to see me like this,”

“You mean you don’t want your crush to see you like this?” He said with a raised eyebrow.

“He already has,” her words were a mere murmur, but it was one Severus had heard.

“The Slytherin?” Snape asked whilst he grabbed a weird looking liquid. “Here drink.”

“Merlin, no. I don’t even know who that was. This tastes disgusting,”

“Do you want the colour gone or not?”

“Sorry,”

Snape let out a small sigh, his arms crossing by habit.

“Potter, perhaps?”

“Are we playing guess the crush or something?”

“Well, we have time. This needs a second dose in around thirty minutes,”

Now it was Y/N’s turn to sigh.

“It’s probably not a good idea to play this game with me,” she joked. “I’m quite competitive,”

“You would have done well in Slytherin,”

“I doubt it,”

“Under me you would have done brilliantly. You are doing brilliantly already.”

A bright red blush ran up Y/N’s cheeks at his use of words.

“You should be careful what you say, Professor. Someone might interpret your words wrong,”

“That someone being you?”

“Perhaps,”

“I see.”

An awkward silence filled the air, something that was uncommon between the pair.

“I’m sorry, that was a bit straight-forward,”

“Yeah, it was.”

“Sorry,”

“Don’t be,”

Whilst his reply was short, the words caught her attention, her head spinning to face him.

“Don’t be?”

“I said what I said.” Came his simple response.

“I don’t understand,”

“Maybe little miss favourite should do some thinking,”

“Oh…” She whispered. “Oh! Here I am thinking I’m just a teacher’s pet,”

He smiled slightly. “Not quite, Miss Granger,”

Footsteps echoed throughout the dungeon as he walked towards Y/N, his fingers lightly pushing against her chin to bring her to face him, her cheeks as red as flames.

“So, I’m your little miss favourite?”

“Clearly,”

[doctorstethoscope]

In the Garden || A. Hotchner x Fem!Reader

hello babes! Something a little different today-- I didn’t have time to write a request that I was going to be pleased with, so this is something that’s been sitting in my drive for a while. Hope you like it! 

Submit requests here! 

contains: sexual innuendo, gun mention

wordcount: 2.4k

You can’t remember the last time you wore a dress, much less a gown like the one JJ was zipping you into now-- dresses weren’t practical for field work with the BAU, and even when you’d worked in the counterterrorism unit, you’d much preferred a professional blouse and pair of slacks. But the First Lady had decided to throw a ball in the White House to celebrate federal employees, and the Bureau was receiving an award, which the Director had hand-picked the BAU to accept. So, gown. Even though you’d much prefer to be changing into a pair of sweats-- you had been called on a case two days before the ball, and Garcia saved the day by running to everyone’s apartments and grabbing their nice clothes so you all wouldn’t be late. Which is how you found yourself squeezing into a sleek off the shoulder number in the Batcave, with Emily batting at your face with a makeup brush and JJ tugging at your zipper. 

“Babe, you look hot.” Penelope says as Emily and JJ step away from you, admiring their work. 

“All Emily’s work,” you deflected with a shy smile. 

“We’ll have that fight when we’re not running late,” Emily said, pulling you out of Garcia’s office, she and JJ not far behind. 

Derek let out a wolf whistle when he saw you all approaching, and you heard JJ’s windchime laugh from a few steps behind. 

“Hello ladies,” he said with an exaggerated leer. 

“Derek Morgan, you’re lucky that my thigh holster doesn’t go with this dress.” Emily spits out, and all of you burst out in laughter. 

“Chocolate thunder, you clean up good,” Garcia says, crossing to Derek, who moved to put his arm around her shoulders as Reid emerged into the bullpen. 

“Speaking of cleaning up good,” JJ says with a small smile, and you catch Reid blushing. 

“Did you know that balls like this can cost American taxpayers up to a million dollars?” He asks the group, and you smile.

“Maybe don’t mention that when the first lady gives us the award, yeah Spence?” You tease, and he treats you to a little chuckle.

You hear Hotch before you turn to see him and Rossi. “Alright, let’s go,” He says, leading the group out of the BAU and towards your SUVs. You end up in the passenger seat of the car Rossi is driving. 

“You doing okay, kid? You’re awful quiet this evening. Invitations to Federal Government Prom don’t come often, you know.” He smirks, and you half-ass a smile in return. 

“Yeah, I’m okay, Rossi. Just tired, you know. Would have preferred to get a night’s sleep in my own bed before we did this, you know?” 

He nods, but there’s no use in lying to a profiler. 

The food, you have to admit, is leagues better than the instant ramen you would have cooked up if you had gone home tonight. And the conversation isn’t half bad either, you admit to yourself as you lazily flirt with Paul, a junior fellow from the Department of Health and Human Services, just barely putting in enough effort to seem interested while allowing your mind to wander.

The sensation of a warm hand in between your exposed shoulder blades distracts you from your train of thought. 

“Excuse me,” Aaron’s deep baritone interrupts Paul’s nervous tenor. “I’d like to cut in for a dance, if you don’t mind.”

Paul sputters, and you laugh, because you know that Aaron was asking you, not this early-thirties politico type that he towered over, both physically and morally. 

“We’ll catch up later?” you said to Paul, with absolutely no intent to catch up later, before Aaron led you out to the dance floor. 

“Hotch, I’m gonna step on your feet.” You warned. 

“No you won’t,” he assures you. “Follow my lead.” 

You do as you’re told, and you’re surprised to realize just how easy it is to follow him, anywhere. 

“Aaron Hotchner, when on Earth did you learn to ballroom dance?” You asked incredulously. 

“Boarding school,” He answers with an easy smile.

“You’re joking,” you accuse. 

“Ah, yes, something I’m known to do.”

“You remain a mystery, Hotchner.”  You tell him.

“I don’t know. That might have been my last secret.” 

You roll your eyes, content to continue dancing, and finding yourself getting distracted again. 

“What are you thinking about?” Aaron asks, and you mentally curse yourself for letting your guard down in front of your boss. 

“Oh, it’s nothing. I’m just tired. But really grateful to be here, of course, and--”

“I wasn’t asking as your boss, you can stand down,” He smirks, dipping you quickly and it takes your breath away. “You’re thinking of leaving.” He says as he lifts you back up, and it’s not a question. 

“How did you-- I can’t believe-- Damn profilers.” You harrumphed. 

“You’ve been distant, the past couple weeks. You’re in your early twenties accepting an award at the White House, by all accounts you should be ecstatic. That’s when I knew something was wrong. And when I saw you with Peter, or whatever his name was, who you couldn’t be less interested in, that’s when I knew it was us.” 

“See, and that’s exactly why I need to leave. Because I’ll never be able to do that.” You tell him, finally looking him in the eye.

“You will,”  He says in a self-assured tone that does nothing to assuage your anxiety.

“I don’t know,” you sighed. 

“I do.” 

“Maybe I’m not good enough, Hotch.” You confess carelessly. He’s already figured you out. Might as well fess up to your deepest insecurities while your boss holds you and stares you down with his deep brown eyes in the middle of the East Room.

“You are,” he says in that same tone, that you’re sure is supposed to be calming but is only infuriating. 

“But maybe I’m not! Maybe I’m one of those people who always wanted to do it, who always wanted to be an agent, but it’s like a pipe dream for me. I don’t contribute to the team the same way everyone else does. I don’t pick up on the things that seem so obvious to all of you, and it sucks. I can still do good work, but you know-- you change your dreams and you grow up. Maybe I’m one of those people and I’m just not supposed to be here. I just can’t stay knowing that I’m not supposed to be here-- I have to leave.” You’re not even sure if your soliloquy makes any sense, but Aaron pulls you a little closer, so he can speak the next few words lowly, directly into your ear. 

“You’ve been here eight months. It takes time. You are an incredible agent, and an asset to this team. I don’t need another profiler that sees the same things we all see-- I need you, and your observations, the things we missed-- those are the things that solve cases. I can’t-- I can’t allow you to change your dream. I can’t let you leave. I need you here.” 

You let his words hang in the air for a moment before he speaks again. 

“The, uh-- the team needs you. We all need you, and your observations, is what I meant.” He stammers. 

“Hotch?’ You ask, confused by the sudden change in tone. 

“Do you want to go get some fresh air? Get away from the crowd?” He asks, pulling away to look at you, and there’s an invitation in his eyes. Maybe a more seasoned profiler would know exactly what it was, but you were excited to find out nonetheless.  

“Yeah, I think I do.”

You’re certain that you’re breaking some sort of law as Hotch pulls you out of the ballroom and down a hallway, his fingers interlocked with yours. You try not to think about it too much. Your heels click against the marble floors as you follow Aaron’s brisk pace, and eventually he finds a door outside, opening it up and allowing you to pass through it first. It takes a minute to place yourself, especially under the cover of night, but after a moment you realize you’re in the rose garden. 

“Toto, I have a feeling we’re not in Kansas anymore,” You say under your breath with a little laugh as you look out over the sprawling display of flowers and plants. 

“It definitely beats the Quantico courtyard,” Aaron agrees.

“Never thought I’d make it there, either.” You confess, not looking at him.

“But you did. It wasn’t meant to be easy, but you made it, and you’ll grow. You just need time.” He tells you. 

“How can you be so sure?” You ask, feeling your eyes well up. 

“I was young once, too.” He tells you with a self-deprecating grin. 

“You can’t play up the wise, ancient elder with me, Hotch. I’ve seen you chase Jack across a soccer field like you’re still in your twenties.” You laugh, but he can hear the emotions behind it.

“Hey, come on, I mean it. I’m not Rossi, but I’ve got my fair dose of wisdom to share,” he says, moving closer to you and placing a hand on your arm, trying to comfort you. “Let’s keep dancing. If you want to talk, you can talk. But you thought you couldn’t dance, and you could dance, right? So we can keep doing that until you believe me.” He said, pulling your hand up in his and placing his other on your waist. 

The two of you moved slowly, the orchestra from inside only barely audible from where you were standing. With Hotch’s bad ear, he could really only hear it when his body was angled just right in the direction of the East Room, but somehow he had perfect rhythm regardless. You move in silence for a song or two or three before Hotch speaks up again. 

“I lied to you, earlier.” He confesses, still guiding you effortlessly through a simple waltz. 

“How do you mean?” You ask, suddenly nervous that you were right, that you’re a complete failure of an agent, and that you need to pack your bags and head on back to Kansas.

“I lied when I said that I’d told you my last secret.”

“Oh,” you said, too caught up in your own head to try to understand what he was saying.

“And I lied when I told you that I meant the team needed you--” you felt that bone-crushing weight on your soul again-- “we do, of course, but that’s not what I meant.” 

“Hotchner, what are you talking about?” You finally asked, no longer able to tolerate the emotional whiplash of his conversation.

“When I said I needed you, I meant it.” 

“Oh,” you say, your face a portrait of shock and confusion, even though you understood him completely. 

“That’s selfish of me as a person, and wrong of me as your superior, and maybe that means that I’m outing myself as the kind of fucked-up person that isn’t worth another second of your time, but I needed you to know.” He stops dancing now, tries to hedge a bit of space between you without letting you go entirely. 

“Aaron,” you whisper, clinging to him more tightly as he pulls away, feeling his jacket wrinkle under your fingernails. 

“Yes?” he whispers back. 

“I’m glad you told me,” you tell him, and that’s all the permission he needs to take your face in both of your hands and kiss you, with a gentleness that makes you feel like spun gold, with the reverence of a man who knows that love is not a game, with the hunger of one who has been starved for months. 

He pulls away from you, too soon, and your eyes are wet. “My resignation will be on your desk by Monday morning.”

He takes a step away. “What do you--” 

“Goodnight, Aaron,” You tell him with a sad little smile, turning around towards the door you came from and leaving him in the garden.

You’re drowning your sorrows in a pint of Ben and Jerry’s when the doorbell rings the next day. You swing the door open grumpily, to reveal Aaron. 

“It’s Saturday, and you can’t turn in your resignation until 9am Monday. What can I do in the next forty eight hours to convince you that you belong here?” Aaron asks, still standing in the hall of your apartment complex.

You sigh, stepping aside to let him in. You can’t give him what he wants, but you won’t have this argument where all the neighbors will hear, either. “It’s too late, Hotch.”

“It’s not too late,” he argues, checking his watch. “I have forty six hours and thirteen minutes.”

“I’ll still be the girl who got this job on her back forty six hours from now.” You tell him, folding your arms.

“You’ll be what?” He asks, incredulous. 

“I know that you heard me loud and clear. 

“I’m sorry, I just didn’t know that you slept with Erin Strauss. I didn’t think you were her type.” He says, and you let out an exasperated sigh. 

“You’re absolutely incorrigible!” You cry out. 

“Who implied that you got this job on anything other than your own merit?” Aaron asks, a glint in his eye that lets you know that they’ll be handled just as soon as he gets you to shred the letter of resignation you drafted last night.

“Didn’t I? You didn’t clear my promotion because you were attracted to me?” You asked.

“I cleared your promotion before we even met-- your interview was a bureau formality. Your reputation and the glowing recommendations from your peers in counterterrorism spoke volumes.”  He assures you.

“Oh,” you let out, your anger deflating. 

“If you want to leave because of my inappropriate behavior, please reconsider. I’m incredibly sorry for--” He starts, but you cut him off, placing your hands on his face and pulling him in for a kiss. 

“Nothing to be sorry for. Please continue to be inappropriate,” you tell him in between kisses. 

He smiles as he continues to place kisses across your face, your jaw, your neck, your collarbone. “Right now?” He asks, slipping a hand underneath your shirt.  “You want me to be inappropriate right now?” 

“If you’re really good at it, I’ll let you tear up my resignation yourself.” 

@romanogersendgame @wanniiieeee      @zheezs14      @greeneyedblondie44 @angelic-kisses13  @baumarvel @ssamorganhotchner  @ijustwannaread2k19    @rexit-mo @shmaptainhotchnersmain @qtip-blog @averyhotchner  @the-modernmary @itsmytimetoodream @choppa-style @hotforhotchner11 @infinite-tides @isthatme-thatsme @g-l-pierce @bakugouswh0r3 @ssahotchie @sleepyreaderreads @rousethemouse @scuttling

[alreadyblondenow]

Cupid in love

Pairing: Cupid!Jaehyun x female!reader

Genre: SMUT, FLUFF, angst?

WC: 3,150k

Warnings: FANTASY GALORE. rough break up sex, unprotected sex, slight nipple play, swearing, mentions of other idols

A/N: NOT PROOFREAD. I’ll fix it once I have time.. For NCT-WRITERS Cafe Resonance

—————

Walking around the mall alone and witnessing yet another beautiful, and successful Valentines Day for the year of 2021 and you’re the only person in the world who knew the man behind this beautiful day.

“Alone during Valentine’s day Y/n? Jaehyun hyung can’t come?” Mark, the waiter from the cafe asked you while he serves you your third round of your favorite warm drink. This is where you and Jaehyun first met, and you have been celebrating Valentines day for nearly three years here now just because Jaehyun can see all the lovers holding hands through that clear glass. All his hard work has paid off.

But tonight, he is already two hours late and you wonder why because he has never been late on Valentine’s Day.

“Uhm, Jaehyun will be a little bit late. Business trip. But I completely understand his schedule” you smiled and thanked him.

Of course you’re not sad that Jaehyun couldn’t make it on time this year. Maybe he got caught up with a little work an emergency perhaps? But you do hope that this is nothing serious.

Three Valentine’s Day ago

You were sitting quietly at Cafe Resonance with a warm drink on your side. Just admiring the happy couples that are enjoying the day with flowers, sweets, and different kinds of surprises. It was a normal day for you, but not until a very handsome man sat in front of you on the other side of the table. Giving you three pieces of Cafe Resonance’s Valentine cookies.

A cupid in his human form. Came out to play and enjoy his day for his own selfish needs. The gods forbade Jaehyun to celebrate his own day so he could stay pure like the god that he is and remain sinless and worthy. But the young cupid is full of passion and curiosity that he took his chance to walk on Earth and make himself meet someone that can satisfy his physical wants.

“The cafe manager said that if I want someone to fall on love with me, I should give them a Valentine cookie” he said and flashed a very handsome smile at you. Knowing all too well that what the manager told him was complete bullshit, because no one can force love to happen with anyone but him.

At least that’s what he knew.

Your first encounter with Jaehyun was surprisingly refreshing and fun. You ate all the cookies that he gave and to be honest you only did that to show him that you’re interested with him too, and also it’s not so bad to fall in love with someone like him. He’s nice, decent and well mannered. Though it’s pretty obvious that he’s after for some Valentine’s sex, and you have no problem with that.

At the end of the day, the man made you scream in bed, fucked you on the wall and made you cum for more three times using his cock. He sure knew how to fuck, you thought.

But the bitter feeling and ugly thought of waking up without him by yourself the next day is something you don’t want to happen so even though you’re dead tired from the sex, you try si hard not to sleep yet and make the best of this moment by asking too much questions to him that he likes answering.

Was the valentine cookie from Cafe Resonance real? Is it really possible for you to fall in love with a stranger?

“Go sleep. I promise I’m still here when you wake up” he said.

And he kept his promise not only the day after Valentine’s Day, but also for the next few weeks. Who would expect that a cupid who just wanted to have fun during his day, wasn’t so immune with love after all. And who would expect that he’s willing to be punished by the gods because of you? But what amazes Jaehyun the most, is how you fell in love with him. Because even as a cupid, he didn’t made you like him or used his powers for his selfishness.

Either way, he still refused on believing that the Valentine cookie was real and effective. Such kind of love mustn’t be tolerated he thought.

Life with Jaehyun was sweet and real. Too beautiful to ruin. That’s why when Jaehyun said that he’s leaving, you didn’t take it lightly which soon lead to your first fight.

Jaehyun didn’t have much of a choice but to tell you the truth. Even though you just laughed at him when he finally said the words, he secretly hoped that you’d still understand because he believes that you love him.

“I don’t have a choice Y/n. I’ve been away for months now. I am neglecting my duty as a cupid, by this time the happy couples that we saw during Valentine’s day could have broken up already because I’m not around” he explains frustratedly.

“So you’re saying that you’re the cupid and couples can break up because you’re not around. Because you’ve been busy being happy with me?”

“Yes” he answered weakly and reached for your hand to kiss it. Promising you that he will come back and find you. “It’s just for a year. I’ll sort everything out and I promise I’ll give the love that you deserve”

And as Jaehyun left you as soon as the truth was revealed, you let him leave you with a big doubt and judgement in your heart. Is he secretly married and you’re a mistress now? Have you done something wrong to make him leave you like this? And these ugly thoughts ran thru your mind for months and months during his absence.

During your wait for Jaehyun’s return, you decided to move on and just date anyone to forget everything about Jaehyun. But every time that you plan a date with someone, the set date will be either cancelled or the guy won’t show up. Little did you know that Jaehyun is the man behind those unfortunate events. Secretly watching you from a cloud above you, guiding you towards patience until he returns and win your heart again.

It was not easy for Jaehyun to see you like this, purposely forgetting everything about him like he was just a dream to you. He can’t let that happen, for he knew that what you have is love.

On the next Valentine’s Day, you can’t believe who showed up in your doorstep. He didn’t change a bit, and neither his feelings for you.

“Can I come inside?” the cupid asked nervously.

“I don’t know what game you’re playing, but seriously what are you doing here Jae?”

“I told you I’d come back right? I’m here now, and we don’t have much time-“

“I have a boyfriend now so please leave me alone”

“That’s a lie. I know everything about you, I’ve watch you every day from above for a whole year. Please just believe me. Don’t push me away, I kept my promise didn’t I? I’m here now”

And the thought of Jaehyun keeping his promise was enough for you to welcome him in but your heart is still cold and broken because of what happened from the past.

As you and Jaehyun sit and have a decent conversation, he showed his wings which is enough proof to believe him that he really is the cupid. You were speechless for hours, and your apartment’s for corners was suffocating you so Jaehyun decided to have a walk with you.

He wanted to hold your hand like every couple he sees now. He wanted to whisper how much he misses you and loves you. Ironic isn’t it? He’s the cupid who spreads love on Earth but he can’t have love for himself.

“So how old are you?” you finally spoke. Those were your first words after seeing his wings, and that was four hours ago.

“Human age is 25, but cupid age... I have no idea but let’s say almost 127 years old? That’s still young in cupid years” he smiled and let out a small laugh. Completely missing that you’re shocked to the core upon hearing his age. But now that you know more truths about him, the normal thing you would do was react hysterically and make him leave you alone. Surprisingly, you wanted to hear more about him. To hear more about the truth.

“Tell me more?” You said shyly, slowly reaching for his hand for you to hold and hold it tightly. Oh you missed him.

He smiled so big and reached in for a kiss on the forehead before he tells you more about him and to what he do. The simple walk turned into a date, and of course he brought you to Cafe Resonance to celebrate your reunion and basically your first year of knowing each other. And when you got back to your apartment, he immediately brought you to your room and fucked you all night in different positions.

“When are you going to leave?” you asked while drawing circles on his chest and savouring his warmth.

“Tomorrow” he answered weakly and tightens his embrace, “I can’t be away from duty like what I did last year. The gods might not let me see you if I continue to be stubborn”

“It’s sad. But I understand, and at least now I have something to look forward to”

Three Valentine’s Day later

Thru the years of being together, even when you don’t see each other everyday, Jaehyun always finds a way to show his love for you thru unexpected things. Big or small.

Like during your birthdays, he always sends gifts to you with sweet and short notes. Or like whenever you wake up on your side of the bed and see a feather on his side of the bed. That simply means he’s always with you, like an angel.

This year’s Valentine’s day marks your three years if staying in love with each other, and you’re more than excited with seeing him today. But given that he was hours and hours late already, you decided to call it a day and go home to rest. Maybe he will come by the next day? Nonetheless, you still believe that he will do everything just to be with you.

Three days later, he’s still nowhere to be found and it’s weird how you can’t feel him watching you anymore. What is happening?

“Hi Y/n” Mark greeted you with his normal cheerful aura. “Were you and Jaehyun supposed to meet? You completely missed him. It’s weird actually, he came here not have some coffee but instead he had a talk with the manager”

“Uh- yeah, sorry. I guess I’ll see him at home then,” you answered awkwardly and forgot the cake that you purchased.

When you came back to your apartment, finally you see his unique figure standing by the window and staring blankly at the sky.

“I thought you forgot about me, are you okay? Jaehyun?” You hugged him from behind and kissed his broad shoulders.

“Sorry about that, how are you?” He turned around and return the hug and kisses. Saying that he’s really sorry for leaving you hanging on a very special day.

“I’m fine. What happened? Is there something wrong? You look troubled” you asked, but he didn’t answer your question but instead he kissed you deeply and motioned you towards your bedroom, making a trail of discarded clothes on the floor.

And once you landed on your bed, Jaehyun immediately went on top of you and kissed your neck, all the way down to the valley between your boobs while kneading them and sucking them. His breathing was heavy and you quickly noticed it. You wanted to make him stop and make him talk, but you’re too late.

He already spread your legs wide and positioned himself between your legs, kneeling in front of you so handsomely as he starts touching your pussy with his thumb. Up and down he makes you wet and sensitive, not to mention he was really gentle and slow. At first you thought he was going to fuck you already, but to you surprise he put his two fingers inside you and came closer to you again, to suck your nipples and bite them softly until he’s satisfied.

Swollen and sensitive, that’s how he left your nipples and starts lining his cock on your entrance, slowly pushing in his cock. “Fuck” he comments with a grunt. Putting every inch of his thick and veiny cock inside of you, moving his hips slowly. His head rests on the crook of you neck, his breath tickling you but all you can do now is moan.

Moan and keep him close with your arms wrapped around his frame. And when you whispered “I love you, Jaehyun” that instantly melted his heart and fucked you even more deliciously. But he also wished you didn’t say it to him because now he knows your love is not real. Cafe resonance put you in a spell and only your true love can break it.

He got up from his comfort close to your body and got a hold on your hips, slightly lifting it so he could fuck you harder and so he could see your boobs bounce up and down, grip it whenever he wants to, pinch it whenever he wants to and suck it whenever he wants to.

Suddenly, he pulled out completely only to push back in a little harsher that your head hit the head board. He did it again. Making you hiss with the stretch from your cunt, but the pleasure is driving you insane. He then started to lick your neck and chest, pinning your arms on your side while he fucks you harder. Your moans became louder and you started gripping the sheets and just stop fighting the feeling, and accepting the intensity of every thrust Jaehyun gives you.

“Why are you so rough tonight?” You asked with ragged breaths, toes started curling, and you begged him to go slower because you don’t want to cum yet but he didn’t listen.

He made you cum for the first time tonight and it wasn’t anything you’ve ever had before. You gripped the pillow so tight, moaned his name weakly, and let you shiver and curl beneath him while his hands still roams around your body, his cock still inside you and he hasn’t cum yet, a sign that he is not yet done with you.

Little did you know, he’s scanning every inch of you, engraving your beauty while you’re naked in his mind. For this is your last night together.

“I wanted to talk-“

Jaehyun started talking but to his surprise you voluntarily move your hips and started fucking yourself. He was sure he made you weak already and fucked you hard, how is possible that you still wanted to go for another round? But he wasn’t complaining, in fact he loves the image of you fucking yourself and using him to go off.

“That’s right baby, fuck me. Go deeper” and so you followed what he wanted, after all you’re not doing this for your own pleasure, you’re doing this because you wanted him to cum too.

With widely spread legs and bouncing tits, you moved your hips up and down while Jaehyun is kneeling in between your legs and you have a complete view of Jaehyun’s fucked out face. Eyebrows furrowing, parted swollen pink lips, chanting your name over and over again and telling you how much he loves what he’s seeing and feeling.

“Oh fuck Y/n, you feel so good”

“Fuck baby”

“Go slower, I don’t want to cum yet-“

But you didn’t gave into his request simply because he didn’t go slow earlier with you. So you moved your hips faster, up and down and put on a show for him by kneading your boobs in front of him and pinching your sensitive nipples to make yourself clench around him.

In a matter of seconds, Jaehyun’s hands are around your rib, perfectly placed under your boobs, and your legs are folded so he could go deeper. He took over until he’s finally shooting his warm, thick cum inside you. Satisfied for what you’ve done to him because he landed on top of your body, so weak and his legs are still shaking.

Too tired to clean the cum dripping from your hole, too comfortable in Jaehyun’s arms and presence that you never want to let go.

On the next day, you woke up quite late and you’re all alone in your cold bed. Though you’re completely cleaned and dressed, maybe Jaehyun took care of you last night before he leaves.

Scanning your apartment for something Jaehyun left, a small note or a flower placed somewhere... but you didn’t find anything. He usually leaves with a promise of seeing together again. Maybe he forgot?

When Jaehyun found out the truth about that Valentine cookie, he immediately hated himself for giving it to you and being the root of his heartbreak right now. He needs to fix this by looking for someone that will love you despite still having his effect on you. He’s positive that once your true love showed up, you will completely forget and move on from him.

It’s weird how this year, all you did was feel an unexplainable pain in your chest. A year full of pain and you dont know where your heartbreak is coming. Not to mention, Jaehyun hasn’t been making you feel his presence lately. That’s why you feel so lonely.

6 months have already passed since the last time that you saw him. And suitors always comes in the way, and you wonder how and why because you knew Jaehyun would get rid of them.

And as months passes by, you continue to fool yourself and still believe that Jaehyun will come back to you. Even tho you felt nothing from his presence the whole year.

Until finally, you received a note from him on Valentine’s day 2022.

Go to Cafe Resonance tonight -JH

And so you did, with a big smile on your face and with a new dress you bought specifically for this occasion. You waited for his arrival, looking at your watch every minute... but he never came. Instead, he sent you another note given bu the manager of Cafe Resonance.

“I’m sorry Y/n,” Manager Chenle said handling you the note that contains the saddest news you’ve ever received.

But just before you could open the note, someone sat in front of you and asked permission to share the table with you because everywhere else is full.

“Yes its fine,” you said without even looking at him and proceed to minding your own business. Reading Jaehyun’s last note to you that says.

He is a good man, full of love and has a heart of gold. He is the one destined for you, not me. The love I can give to you, has no match to what he can give to you. I’m sorry.

“By the way I’m Johnny”

The man reached out his hand for you to shake, smiling so handsomely at you. It’s weird how your heart instantly skipped a beat. Jaehyun how could you do this to me.