#i was so excited when i saw that lol thought bubble above his head | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

dokoni-mo · 3 years

Text

She Truly Was || Muzan Kibustsuji x F!Reader

Summary: Enmu helps Muzan remember you.

SFW // Fluff with small amounts of Angst

Word Count: 4626

WARNINGS: *slight Mugen Train spoilers*, slight mentions of implied sexual activity, obsessive(?) behavior, Muzan is soft for one person only, some angst, mentions of injury, mentions of blood, I also barely proofread this lol

A/N: I've had this in my head for a while and decided to write it down. This is largely just a compilation of scenarios I made in my head to fall asleep at night when I was stressing over exams and stuff, all loosely thrown together with a plot. This is my first time writing for demon slayer, so please be patient! I also am basing a lot of my info about the characters on s1 of the anime, some of the manga, and the wiki. I apologize if something isn't accurate. tldr; I just think he's neat.

Despite having lived through thousands of years with hundreds of stormy nights in the midst, Muzan Kibutsuji never learned to appreciate them.

Something about nights like those in Japan just never sat right with the demon. It wasn't that they were too dreary, not at all. Life as a demon was plenty dreary. On the other hand, it wasn't that they were to lively either. No one ever went out on stormy nights; demon or not. Perhaps it was just because the rain was another reminder of the singularity that was being a demon. The poignant pitter patter just seemed to have a way of whispering to whoever heard it, telling them the most unpleasant yet quiet truths of their lives.

After Muzan's bloody meeting with the lower moons, he had told Enmu his task Muzan had planned for the pitiful, weaker demon. Although he had doubts that Enmu could hear him over the sound of the weaker demon's screams of pain from the blood he gave, Muzan was pleasantly surprised when Enmu understood the orders the first time around. Seeing as though it would cause trouble if the lower moon started to go around bragging about his newfound power and job, Muzan decided it would be best to keep a crimson eye on the demon.

This is what led to the scene before Muzan now.

Muzan had taken Enmu back to one of his many properties scattered across Japan, this one being tucked away in a lush, quiet forest in the middle of seemingly nowhere. The lower moon had not said a word throughout the entire journey there, and still refused to say anything now. Most likely out of fear.

Although it had been a long day of wrangling the lesser worms he called pawns (or "moons" if he was generous), Muzan did not want to show any weakness towards Enmu by resting. To busy himself, Muzan decided to do the tedious work the humans have him do in the job he took to please his human wife.

That insufferable woman.

With his bowler hat placed on his desk, Muzan had taken a seat in his large, leather chair, ordering Enmu to stand at the edge of the desk and face the opposite way. And, for extra edge, he was not to say or do anything.

It had been about two hours since then. The room was filled with only the sounds of Muzan's writing and the ticking of the grandfather clock in the corner.

Although he ordered it to be that way, Muzan was already sick of it.

Peering his red eyes up from the papers scrawled below him, Muzan fixated his bone-chilling gaze upon the back of Enmu's head. Muzan could see the corners of the lower moon's mouth turned upwards as he faced the wall, presenting himself with an expression of dumb content.

Freak.

Enmu was definately a curious specimen. So eager to die, yet so eager to please Muzan. The demon lord would have been confused if he were not who he was.

Perhaps it was his own boredom setting in, perhaps it was because he wanted to feed his already gargantuan ego, or perhaps it was just because he was tired, Muzan decided to speak up.

"Tell me," Muzan said, his deep, smooth voice making Enmu perk up slightly, "Why is it that are you so loyal to me?"

Enmu took this as an opportunity to finally move, but not without some caution. The lower demon only turned his neck towards Muzan, along with a tilt of his shoulder. Muzan noted the disobedience of orders, but decided to let it slide this time.

The rain must have told him to be generous that night.

"Why, Master Kibustsuji," Enmu said, a faint blush adorning his cheeks, "It is because I am so delighted to be in your presence, and have my power be of service to you."

The demon lord felt his jaw clench at this, his red eyes peering up at the lower moon from under his abyssal lashes. Although Enmu had an... odd, way of putting things, Muzan always did like it when someone stroked his ego, even if all they ever said was the same banter over and over again. He was nearly perfection, afterall.

Muzan sat quietly and pondered Enmu's response for a second, before formulating his own.

"Your power, as you put it," Muzan said, his voice firm, "What is it?"

Enmu's grin widened, "Dream Manipulation, Master. I can enter, manipulate, or control anyone's dreams however I want to. I can use it to kill from the inside, eating a person spirit first and body second. I can also put people to sleep."

Muzan wasn't necessarily impressed by this, but he wasn't disappointed either. An ordinary power, really. Nothing that could ever rival his own.

However...

Muzan's gaze flickered down to the surface of his desk. A flicker of a long lost yet not forgotten feeling bubbled deep inside of his being. A mere spark of light, really, a piece of warmth he felt from long ago, lost to the wayside by the vestiges of time.

It was something Muzan thought he would never experience again.

Dream manipulation, huh?

It might be worth a try.

Muzan looked back up to Enmu, sharpening his gaze, "Tell me, are you able to give... pleasant dreams?"

Enmu was surprised to hear this come from Muzan to say the absolute least. He took this as another opportunity to disobey orders and turn to Muzan again, this time fully and whole-heartedly. The lower moon looked right into those blood red eyes, looking for any sign of a rare flicker of humor or joking.

Muzan's gaze was serious, poised as ever.

Muzan was being for real.

Taking a pause to swallow, Enmu allowed his soft smirk to return to his gray, pale face.

"Why," the lower moon retorted, "I can, Master, yes."

Muzan eyed the lesser demon for a good second at his response.

This move was risky. It could damage his image. Yet, if he was to do this with any of his pawns, he would do it with Enmu. Enmu seemed to have no intent on harming Muzan or his image in any way; he was far too loyal for that.

Besides, if someone were to question the might of Muzan, he could just prove them wrong.

Muzan leaned back in his chair, crossing one leg over the other and lacing his fingers together, wrapping them around his knee. His icy gaze still on Enmu, he spoke again.

"I wish to see a pleasant dream."

Muzan nearly rolled his eyes when he saw just how wide Enmu's grin had gotten and just how flushed his face got.

It was repulsive.

But, if it meant what Muzan thought it would mean...

It was worth stomaching.

After a breif moment used to compose himself, Enmu's smile faded to normal again. He pulled up the sleeves to his coat.

"I will give you a dream where you will experience the happiest days of your life over again, Master Kibutsuji," the lower moon stated, "Is this to your liking or would you prefer something else?"

"No," Muzan stated flatly, "That is fine."

Perfect, even.

Enmu smiled widely one last time, holding out his arm and pointing it at the demon lord.

"Sweet dreams, my lord." Was the last thing Muzan heard before falling into a deep, deep sleep.

"Muzan..."

Despite his blood demon art being so much weaker than his, Muzan wasn't quite ready for just how Enmu put him into a dream like that. Muzan's headache had grown ten-fold now, and he could feel that his face was scrunched.

"Muzan..."

Slowly but surely regaining his full consciousness, Muzan could first feel that he was in different clothes than what he had been wearing before. These ones were lighter, softer, and much more airy than his normal suit. Squinting open his crimson eyes, he saw that he was in what appeared to be a long, dark, flowing kimono.

The second thing Muzan could feel was that it was rather cool where he was, and that he appeared to be lying on the ground. Sifting his weight slowly, he could then feel that his head was lain upon what felt like two soft, plush pillows firmly squished together.

The third thing, however, took him a little longer to discern quite that it was. At first, he thought it was a pair of chopsticks running across his scalp over and over again. Upon, further thought, however, Muzan was further snapped back into awareness.

Those were not chopsticks.

Those were fingers.

All too familiar fingers.

"Muzan..!"

Muzan felt a stir deep down inside of him. He recognized this feeling, this touch, this warmth. It had been so, so long since he had felt like this. How long was it again? It had to be an eternity ago. An eternity wrapped within all time time in the world.

Muzan was speechless. Muzan couldn't move. Muzan was struck from deep within, and nothing in the world could ever compare to its blow.

"Muzan!"

Although the calling of the demon's lord name had been going on for some time now, he was just now able to respond.

Tilting his chin upwards towards the voice's source, Muzan nearly fell to bits right then and there. If he was someone else, he would have wept deep, earnest tears at the very sight of the being above him. For everything and nothing surrounded him as he studied the bright, radiant face above him, and nothing else seemed to exist other than that smile.

Other than her.

Her.

Oh, her, her, her.

His beloved. His sun, moon and stars. The ground beneath his feet and the air around him. His joy and love, his woes and sorrow. His fears and excitement. His warmth and his cold.

You.

You were really here.

"I was wondering if you were ever gonna wake up," you said, a faint laugh behind your voice, "You were out for so long!"

This scene was all too familiar to Muzan. He had replayed it in his head countless times, as if it were the only record left in the world.

He knew what this day was, and he knew all of your lines.

How could he ever forget?

Every moment he had ever spent with you had been a blessing.

Right now, his head was cradled in your lap, your soft, delicate fingers combing through his hair oh so gently as he had slept. It was deep into the night, and ordinarily Muzan would not be sleeping at this time. However, your touch was just so relaxing to him.

Everything about you was.

Today, you and him had spent the night wandering through the garden of your home together, chatting about anything and everything. It was only about two months into your relationship with Muzan. Muzan had first come to your home with the intention of eating everyone within the residence, but once he saw your face, watched you, saw your heart, your spirit, your you, he just couldn't.

He just...

couldn't.

You were human, yes.

But Muzan didn't care.

He was in love with you.

Muzan had yet to tell you the truth about him, however.

But that could come later.

"Muzan, are you alright?" He heard your voice echo again, snapping him out of his trance. He saw your face painted with worry, making his own features soften.

His darling angel. If only you knew just how much it pained him to see you with anything other than a smile.

Muzan reached his hand upwards, steadily maneuvering his fingers to brush your hair behind your ear and cup your warm cheek. He was shocked at how real you felt, shocked at just how similar it felt to all those years ago.

Perhaps Muzan had to give Enmu a reward.

The demon lord caressed your cheek gingerly with his cold, calloused thumb, savoring in just how warm your flesh was compared to his. For the first time in what felt like eons, Muzan felt a smile adorn his handsome features. Not one put on just to appease the humans around him, but genuine. The type of smile only you got to see.

Only you.

"I'm more than alright, my darling." He responded, his voice soft and warm, without the normal venom he gives to his subordinates. A voice reserved restrictively for you.

Finally, you let a soft grin come over your heavenly face again, making all seven of Muzan's hearts swell.

"I'm sorry if I woke you up," you said, "But it's about to be dawn soon. I don't want you to get a burn, so let's go in the house again, okay?"

Ah yes, the lie Muzan told you. He, of course, couldn't be with you in the sunlight (as much as he wanted to). So he had told you that he had a rare disorder that made him extra prone to sunburns and heatstroke.

Just something to keep you safe from the truth.

His soft smile still adorning his features, Muzan gave you a nod as he slid his head off of your lap. Since you were on your knees, you were quicker to stand than him. Brushing off your kimono quickly, you offered one of your hands to Muzan to help him stand, of which he gladly took. He had long since forgotted just how perfectly your hand fit into his, along with how radiant your kimono made you look.

Once he was back on his feet, Muzan couldn't help but to hold your arms, holding you a few feet away from him to simply admire you for a moment, his crimson eyes doing laps around your face and body.

You were perfect to him.

Every single thing about you was without flaw in his eyes. Not one curve of your body was too shallow or too wide. Not one strand of your hair was misplaced or without poise. Not one feature on your face took away from your radiant beauty. And you had not one bad bone inside of your body.

Muzan was never one to believe in angels.

However, if anyone in any part of the world were to tell him that you were one of them, straight from the heavens themselves,

He would believe them.

As soon as Muzan stepped through the door, his hand in your own, the scene before him changed in one giant, peaceful flash of white light.

Before him now was no longer the house that he had shared with you all those years ago. Now, in its place, was a beautiful, lush springtime garden, all dredged under the cover of the night. It was not devoid of light, however. There were a few lanterns afloat in the water of the stream, as well as some within the structure of the small bridge that went over top of it. Flowers adorned every nook and cranny of the space, and the occasional insect or bird would make a brief appearance.

A small slice of paradise, just for you and Muzan Kibutsuji.

Fearing that you were no longer by his side, Muzan turned his head. His fears were quickly subsided when he saw you there next to him. Your delicate hands were placed on the railing of the bridge, and your eyes were fixated on the calm water below, almost as if it were a window into the heavens above. There was a small smile plastered on your face, and the delicate lights illuminated each of your features so perfectly.

Muzan knew this night.

This was the night he told you the truth.

The truth about him, about his "condition", about where he went for days on end, about why he couldn't walk with you in the sun, about everything.

This was the one night Muzan had ever felt fear.

"Is it really true, Muzan?" You asked, your gaze still fixated on the water below, "Are you really a demon?"

Muzan felt his lips part in small surprise. Even though he had replayed this night time and time again in his mind, it felt as if this were all happening for the first time over again.

Enmu really was good at this.

Muzan wet his lips before responding, setting his gaze on your precious, beautiful face and refusing to move it, "Yes, my love. It is true. I would not lie to you about this, I..."

A pause to collect this thoughts, before he could continue, "I kept it from you to protect you, (Y/N). I did not want any harm to come to you. My darling, I... I love you. My love for you knows no bounds. You are the stars that shine at night, and you are the shining moon above. Each time I look upon you, all I can stand to think of is how deep my love for you runs. I... I need you, (Y/N). I do not wish for you to be frightened of me, my angel. I would never, not ever harm you, nor let any harm come to you."

You still weren't looking at Muzan, yet your smile had yet to falter. Muzan felt a bubble of nervousness in his gut. Although he knew your response to his words already, even thinking of this moment never failed to make his stomach churn. He hoped his words to you were enough. He doubted that he had ever said anything more truthful in his entire life.

After a long pause of silence between the two of you, you closed your eyes and widened your smile. Then, you opened your eyes again, finally turning to face your lover. You looked Muzan right in the eyes, seemingly unfazed that you were standing so dangerously close to the most powerful being alive.

You were so brave.

Your heart was so big.

Muzan felt so overwhelmed.

"Muzan," you said, your cheeks dusting a light pink.

What you said next to him, Muzan could never get out of his head, never forget. No matter how much he tried, he would never not ever forget your words in that moment.

Within that one short, simple phrase, the king of demons fell in love all over again.

"I've always known."

Another flash within his crimson eyes, and the scene had changed again. Nighttime again, of course, but this time within the confines of the bedroom you and Muzan shared. Both you and Muzan were nude, sans the blanket that covered the lower half of your forms. Muzan was on his back, one strong arm wrapped around you, the other cradling the back of his head. Your legs were intertwined with his, and your hair and hands were sprawled out on top of his lean, muscular chest.

Muzan knew this night as well.

It was his most loved night with you, but also his most dreaded.

How cruel fate was.

Stroking your back with the tips of his fingers, Muzan stared up at the ceiling above the two of you. Your body was flush against his, and as warm as ever. He wondered to himself if he was making you cold. If he was, you didn't seem to mind.

After a long period of savoring the silence between you and him, you softly snorted out a cute, soft giggle. This made Muzan angle his chin downward to look at the top of your head.

"What is it?" He questioned.

You giggled again, tilting your head up to look at him. Smiling, you turned your body to lay on top of the demon king, your breasts smushing against his own. Instinctively, Muzan laid his hands on your hips, rubbing small circles into them as he held you in place.

"I just find it funny that even though you profess to have so much stamina, you get tired after only two rounds." You explained to him, a playful mischievousness in your tone and eyes.

Muzan breathed out a smile, reaching up a clawed hand to brush your hair out of your face.

"As I recall it, you were the one complaining it was too much." He quipped back.

You snorted, "As if that ever stopped you before."

The demon let out a soft chuckle, leaning forward to give you a kiss on the forehead. Muzan couldn't remember ever laughing so genuinely before you came along. You truly were the light of his life. You filled his days with the sunlight he had long since forgotten, as well with the warmth no other demon could ever have.

He loved you.

He loved you he loved you he loved you.

And he still did.

He watched as you dropped your gaze to his chest, running your fingers along the flesh.

"Muzan..." you said, your voice more serious than before, "I've been thinking a lot lately..."

The demon king hummed, brushing more hair from your face.

"What has been on your mind, my love?" He asked.

You paused for a second before continuing on. Muzan could practically see the gears turning in your head.

"Well, I... I'm not getting any younger, you know, and I've been thinking. I... I really love you, Muzan. You're the only person I can imagine myself being with for the rest of my life. The other day, I was in town, and I saw the cutest family ever with a husband and a wife and two adorable little children, and it made me think..."

You looked up at him again, giving him a soft smile.

"What if we were to have a family of our own?"

Muzan could feel the same sense of joy, love, and pride in his chest as he did this same moment all those years ago. In this moment, he had never felt closer to you before, nor could you recall ever looking more beautiful.

He wanted nothing more than to be a family with you for the rest of eternity.

"Darling, you know what that would mean, correct?" He questioned you. He had told you long before that demons could only have offspring with other demons, for a demon baby would eat its human mother from the inside and kill her. It was gruesome, and had originally made you cringe at the thought. Muzan had thought your reaction was quite cute.

"Yes, yes, I know," you answered, "and I'd be ready for it. Even if I'm a demon, and even if I can never go out in the sun again or live normally ever again, I'd be happy knowing I got to be with you and our baby for the rest of time."

Muzan gave you a smile in return, his long, white fangs flashing in the light of the night. Leaning forward, he kissed you upon your soft, warms lips, gently pulling you closer to him.

This was one of the thousands of reasons why he loved you.

You were always so sweet, so kind and optimistic. He would admit, he did have a soft spot for you and you alone. But he didn't care. You were worth it. You were worth every single piece of money on planet earth. You were worth the sun the moon and the stars, and all the planets here and beyond. You were worth any injury, any heartache, and any trial or tribulation in the world.

The king of the demons unquestionably, unfathomably, undeniably, adored you.

Pulling gently away from the kiss, Muzan looked deep into your eyes, right past your pupils and looked right into your soul, your very being.

"I would want nothing more, my sunlight."

If Muzan could turn back the hands of time, he would have kept you here with him for the rest of everything and beyond.

For he did not know then that was the last kiss you and him would share.

Another flash, and Muzan was no longer greeted with a visage of the past. Much to his dismay, the demon was now greeted with the sight of his office, with a smiling Enmu creepily watching him from across his desk.

What a fucking freakshow.

Taking in a breath of air through his nose, Muzan sat up tall in his chair again, rubbing the bridge of his nose with this thumb and pointer finger.

You were gone again. You were again nothing up a memory, a whisper of a time from the past.

Muzan could hardly bare it.

He had felt you, held you near him.

And just as fast as you came back, you were gone again.

This was a pain almost too hard to bear.

How long was he asleep for? Muzan really didn't care how long it was.

No amount of time with you was enough.

"Did you have the pleasant dream you wished for, Master?" Enmu asked the demon king. The lesser moon was lucky Muzan was in a somewhat good mood that day.

"Yes." Muzan replied simply, closing his eyes to rub them with his thumb, "Excellent work."

Enmu's smile widened at this, his cheeks turning pink again.

"Why, thank you, Master." He responded, his excitement prevalent in his voice.

Enmu really was a special one.

After composing himself again, Muzan scooted his chair forward up to his desk, fixing his gaze back onto his work sprawled out below.

Muzan just wanted to be alone again after that. He had been alone for years now, but he wanted Enmu out of the room. Although he could have easily ordered it to be so, he again did not want to show any weakness to the lower moon.

Christ on a bike. Muzan was so fucking stubborn.

He remembered all the times you nagged him for it.

Oh, what he would give to have you nag him one last time.

After a long bout of silence, the lesser demon decided to speak up again. He turned his head over his shoulder again to Muzan, trying to sound as naieve and innocent as possible.

"Master," Enmu said, "Where is she now?"

Muzan stopped his movements and glared up at Enmu with a venomous glare. How dare he even refer to you. You were so far above him, how dare Enmu even think to invoke your name.

Though Muzan wanted to kill the other demon right on the spot, he decided against it. He still wanted to see how Enmu would do on his mission. Also, Muzan had to admit that he did feel lighter and more generous after his dream with you. And he supposed it was fair that Enmu had his questions.

Feeling nice, Muzan decided to entertain Enmu's question.

Shifting his gaze back to the papers below, Muzan replied.

"Gone." he said, "The night she asked about a family was the last night I saw her alive. The next day, a group of slayers found her and our house. They knew who she was and that she was human, but killed her anyway. All in attempt to get to me. I found her in a pool of her own blood, limp and cold. The slayers died that same night."

Enmu's smile faded at this, his face taking on a look of shock. Closing his lips into a tight line, Enmu looked away, out of a quiet unconscious respect. Everything made so much more sense to Enmu now. Why the demon king was the way he was, his hatred for slayers, his cold-hearted, murderous nature.

It all clicked into place.

"I... I am sorry for your loss, Master." He said, his voice quieter than normal, "She seemed like a lovely woman."

Muzan peered up at the back of Enmu's head. Through his thick, black lashes.

"Yes..." Muzan said.

"She truly was."

#demon slayer #kny fanfic #kny x reader #kimetsu no yaiba muzan #kimestsu no yaiba #demon slayer x y/n #demon slayer x you #demon slayer x reader #muzan kibutsuji #muzan kibutsuji x reader

479 notes · View notes

ill-skillsgard · 3 years

Text

Faust x Faith - No Looking Back

Warning: 18+ smut, public sex, violence, blood, arson, implied death, mentions of non-consensual touching (nothing explicit and no r-words used,) mentions of stalking, unconsciousness, anti-religious themes, strong language.

Note: Hey, hey. I’ve wanted to write this for a while, but haven’t had much time. This isn’t based on any requests—just something I feel needs to happen to move the universe along. After this, I’ll be basing future FxF stuff off drabble requests instead of going story-heavy for a bit. Likes, comments and reblogs are suuuper ‘ppreciated!

Summary: - Not based on Lords of Chaos. I use Faust!Valter’s likeness only as inspiration - 3.6K words -

Faust makes good on his word to protect Faith, taking drastic measures to assure her assailant never bothers her again.

Read more Faust x Faith here [x]

Thin raindrops pattered the man's leather jacket as he walked through the streets with his hood drawn up and his eyes low. For two days, the drizzle persisted and melted the black snowbanks into slush. Though the dismal atmosphere kept most inside, Sven had good reason to travel across town on foot. The promise of a girl's company waited at the end of his route, and he put off his regular nightly routine of masturbating to fetish porn for—what he hoped was—the real thing.

He glanced at his cracked phone screen every few minutes to check in with her, making sure she hadn't changed her mind, that she was serious. From the earnestness of her messages and the speed at which she replied to his questions, he determined she meant what she said about wanting to meet. Finally, his luck was turning. He’d show that miserable bastard Faust who was the better man.

- What abt ur bf? Lol

- What about him? Not here, is he?

- Thought u were a good girl.

- Haha, not really. Are you close?

- Ya. Y r we meeting at this random place?

- I need you to promise you won't tell a soul. If you can prove that to me, maybe we can keep meeting up.

- Lol ok. I PROMISE I won't say a word😉

- Thank you. Hurry, please. It's cold out!

- Be there in 5. I'll let u wear my jacket altho idk might not need it😉

- Hehe omgosh. You're making me blush.

- I'll make u do way more then blush baby. Just wait.

Sven lengthened his strides and turned the corner onto a hill leading toward the industrial area of town. Down the slope, he walked past several warehouses and legions of trucks parked inside barbed-wire fencing. It was a peculiar site to meet up, but his rendezvous insisted on a place nobody would think to look.

Betting his night would take an erotic turn, Sven popped a piece of gum in his mouth and chewed away the cigarette taste. He was seconds away from the spot she chose to meet, and his chest constricted with excitement. His boots crunched over gravel and garbage as he walked down a narrow alley between two faceless buildings. There was an open lot at the end of the lane, where he assumed she was waiting. As he made his way through the dimly lit alley, he whistled to make his presence known. The shrill tune reverberated off an overflowing dumpster to his left, and as he stepped to clear the reeking trash receptacle, something hard and blunt swung out at eye-level and flattened him to the ground.

Dazed and blinded from the sudden strike, he tried moving his mouth, but only a bubble of blood popped from his lips. A piercing stream of sound filled his ears as the edges of his vision turned dark. A large black figure came into view above, haloed by the soggy grey sky in the deepening veil. The featureless shadow chuckled deeply before a heavy boot's tread put out his lights.

~*~

Several hours passed before Sven's eyelids shuddered. By then, his assailant had had plenty of time to tie him to a wooden chair and organize his instruments of punishment. A headache blistered through the man's skull, throbbing in his eye sockets until he gained enough consciousness to open them. When he saw the person who had knocked him out, his throat closed and the gasp ripping through came out high-pitched.

"Faust... Please... Don't—" Sven hiccoughed. "Don't do this. I'm sorry. I'm SORRY!"

Faust, who had been facing the doorway at the end of a long red runner, turned toward Sven, holding a hammer's handle in one hand while cradling the head in the other. A malicious smirk peeked out from a curtain of black hair. He took a step forward, the clomp of his leather boots echoing through the church. Each step made a menacing sound that bit down on Sven's nerves and rattled his sensitive skull.

"What are you apologizing for?"

"I know you hate me, but please, don't hurt me. I swear I'll never talk to her again!"

Faust approached, flashing the obsidian hammerhead. He tossed the tool in his grip and stuck his hand into his pocket, producing several five-inch nails.

"No! God, no, please! Faust! Don't do this!"

The black-haired giant stopped to admire the curve of the hammer’s prongs. Sven looked around the empty church and saw a jerrycan taking up space in a nearby pew. He immediately started struggling against the jute rope binding his wrists and ankles to the chair as Faust drew nearer, smile uncoiling.

"I already gave you the chance to never talk to her again. Remember?"

"I'm sorry! I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry!"

"Sorry means fuck all to me. You should know that. The only reason you left the campsite with your dick intact is because of the witnesses," Faust said, then spun around with his arms out, showcasing their solitude. "Now, it's just you and me."

"Please don't," Sven muttered through swollen lips. "Fuck, I'll do anything!"

"There's nothing you can do. Nothing a sorry sack of human waste can provide this world to make me change my mind."

"SHE LIED!"

Faust jingled the nails in his jacket, reminding Sven who held the weapon.

"Whatever she told you... It's not true! I was at the party, but I didn't do anything to her!" Sven's voice cracked.

"Oh... So you didn't follow her into my bedroom?"

"No! I talked to her for a minute, and that's all. That's all, I swear, Faust. Don't kill me."

The stomp of boots neared the altar where Sven struggled in the chair. He twisted to loosen the rope and slipped one hand out. Faust grabbed his wrist and pinned it to the arm of the chair, readying a nail between his lips as he gripped the hammer. Sven let out a scream, stifled instantly by the hammerhead. Faust wedged the metal between his teeth and hissed.

"Shut the fuck up, or I'll use this to smash your teeth out like a goddamn window. Understand me?"

Sven nodded and quaked as Faust placed the tip of the nail against the soft, flat part of his forearm.

"Stay still. If I fuck up and hit the Radial or Ulnar artery... You could bleed out before I'm done. Gotta get it right between the bones." Faust slapped the pale skin to reveal blue veins. He pressed the nail’s tip in place and rose the hammer above his head, bringing it down and stopping short of the head as Sven shrieked.

Faust cackled. "Jesus Christ, dude. Did you really think I was gonna nail you to a chair?"

Sven groaned, relieved and moist with cold sweat. "Faust, I'm serious. Please, man. You gotta believe me."

His dark laughter continued, bouncing off the high ceilings, the wooden pews and polished floors. As Sven let out his own nervous chuckle, Faust brought the hammer down in one swift pull, then slapped his hand over Sven's gaping mouth to stifle the screams. Howling, Sven rattled his head back and forth as a searing bolt of pain tore through his right arm, crackling in his shoulder where it burned and burned.

Faust tore his phone out of his back pocket and brought up a video, slamming the screen into Sven's face. The video of him grabbing Faith in his room while he was states away watching the live feed from the camera he'd set up on the desk.

"I knew these little cameras would come in handy. See? I know what you did, you stupid fuck. And you know what else? I would have just beat the shit out of you had I not stopped by your place before our little meeting."

Sven whined, tears pouring from his eyes in steady streams.

"Oh, yeah. That's right. I went into your room... Saw some interesting things on your computer. At first, I thought it was just standard fucking creep shit. Snuff porn, torture... Teen girls. None of that surprised me... Until I dug around and found your little stalker file buried in your folders. You didn't even encrypt it. How fucking stupid are you?"

"I'm sorry," Sven shook.

"Why are you apologizing to me?"

"I'm sorry for touching her. I should have left her alone."

"What'd you think was gonna happen? That she wouldn't tell me? Or that I wouldn't believe her? And now I know you've been following Faith around, taking pictures of her, you fucking predator. And what about those other women, huh? You sorry about them, too?"

"Yes! I'm sorry. I know I have problems! I'm trying to get help. Please, Faust. If you let me go, I promise I'll do it. I'll get better. I haven’t hurt anyone!"

Faust shook his head slowly, grunting in refusal. "No. I meant what I said when I told you I'd crucify you if you went near Faith again. I'm doing the world a favour."

Sven hung his head and bled from the grievous wound pinning him to the chair, shuddering weakly from his injuries. Faust would never relent. He'd witnessed the drummer's cold disdain, the malignant hatred living inside that made him turn to the dark with open arms. Faust wasn't an actor. He pledged himself to the darkness with unyielding conviction, never one to take such things lightly. This realization depleted Sven's will to reason with the man.

Faust gripped another thick nail and drove it through Sven's left arm, smiling as blood dripped from the wood onto the church altar. The violent yelps filled Faust with morbid delight as he pressed the bloodied hammer under his victim's chin and raised his face.

"You're gonna die tonight, Sven."

"What makes you better than me? You'll be a murderer," Sven stuttered. "You hurt people, too."

"You and I are not the same. Don't ever compare yourself to me. You're a coward, and I warned you. Tread on what's mine, and I'll destroy you. That's what I said."

"All this over a girl? Are you fucking crazy!?"

Faust stooped to one knee, looking up at Sven as though the insult had cut him. Faust's brows arched, bottom lip jutting outward as he studied Sven, who closed his eyes. Then, Faust rose to his feet, leather stretching from the motion. Faust tapped his chin, smiled, and leaned over to whisper, "yes... Totally fucking crazy."

With a powerful kick to the chest, Faust sent the chair and Sven toppling backward. He then unzipped his pants, pulled out his manhood and giggled as he emptied his bladder on the weeping man. While Sven cried and moaned, Faust closed his zipper, whistling merrily. He left Sven on his back and snatched the jerrycan from the pew, taking slow, calculated steps while twisting off the cap and dousing the altar in gasoline.

As the gas trickled, Sven's desperation mounted. He could not flail, so he screamed. Faust gently reminded him what he'd do to Sven's teeth if he carried on shouting. The pinned man blubbered and begged, but Faust ignored his pleas. Inside his head, all Faust heard was the sound of flames rushing into a circle around Sven, crackling over the carpet and up the old church's wooden beams. By the time the roof caught fire, Faust had planned on being long gone.

"Please, Faust... You'll regret this! I know you're a serious person, but this is too far. You won't be able to live with yourself!"

"Wrong. I couldn't live with myself knowing I let a vulture like you walk this planet freely." Faust poured a trail down the floor runner, far away from the altar. He tossed the can aside and looked up at the Catholic saints' stained-glass portrayals and Jesus at the center of it all, staring down with sad eyes. Faust took a book of matches from his pocket and ripped one from the bunch, running its tip across the ignitor strip until a small flame burst to life. Faust flicked the match to the ground without a second thought, and the flame ate up the gasoline trail swiftly. The church was illuminated, and the colourful glass windows came to life. Faust raised his eyes to the forlorn Jesus and leered while the fire spread.

He did not stay to admire his work or revel in the cries of a man burning alive. Faust fled before the fire consumed the church, not once looking back or wondering if his victim had somehow escaped. He trudged through puddles of slush, hair swinging in the wind, white shadows of breath leaving his mouth.

It was time to get back to finish the tour. But he had one more stop to make.

~*~

Faith left the mall after helping close the book store. She received small smiles and nods from the mall staff as they locked doors and unfolded security gates. Some of the people she had spoken to before, and some she had only seen in passing. Though she returned their pleasantries, inside Faith was fretting. She tried not to worry about her boyfriend or ask where he was under strict orders to go about her day as usual.

She stepped into the evening air as the sun sank, taking the blue from the sky along for the descent. Wisps of white cloud stretched across the pink and violet above. Faith took in a deep breath and walked to the bus stop situated between a movie theatre and a dollar store. She popped her earbuds in and turned on a song that reminded her of Faust; one he wouldn’t like. His music taste had no room for the upbeat indie rock she enjoyed. Still, she smiled when the lyrics reminded her of him.

The scent of cigarette smoke caught her attention, and she looked around, finding no culprit. She wondered where the smell came from if nobody was around but soon forgot when the city bus appeared in the distance. It had to make a long trek around the parking lot before it pulled up at the movie theatre. Faith readied her bus card to scan as another cloud of smoke enveloped her senses.

Faith whirled around, and there he was, all black and leather, white teeth clutching the filter of a cigarette. Faust smiled, his words bolting from his mouth as she clamped her arms around him and crushed her face into his chest. The leather and musk brought tears to her eyes. She ripped out her earbuds and tried not to weep.

He hushed her, lifted her off the ground and retreated into the shadowed alley between the theatre and the store. By the time the bus pulled up, Faust had pressed her against the brick wall behind the building.

"Faust. Oh my gosh, where have you been? I was so worried," Faith gasped.

"Sh, don't ask questions, baby." Faust smothered her mouth, holding her thighs around his waist.

"Mm—I love you. Oh my God. I can’t believe you’re here! I love you so freaking much."

"I know you do," Faust breathed against her lips. "I love you, too, babe."

"Tell me where you've been!"

Faust shook his head and kissed her neck instead. She raked her fingers through his hair, knocking his hood down so she could see him unobstructed.

"Told you... Don't ask... Mmkay?... Stop asking... Just let me... Mm—fuck!"

Faith pulled his pelvis inward with her thighs, rubbing against his crotch and the heavy bullet belt wrapped around his hips. In their cloud of lust, Faust pushed his black jeans down just enough to free his erection.

"Fuck, I love your little skirts. Makes it so easy," Faust murmured.

The thought of Faust showing up disquieted her, but his lips on her skin and his desire thwarted these anxieties for a while. She set aside her questions, happy to have him in her arms again and overcome by arousal. When he stretched her panties aside and pushed into her, they both froze in expressions of excruciating ecstasy. Faust tilted his head back and closed his eyes, and Faith clutched his shoulders, already writhing from the intense fulfillment between her legs.

Just as she thought Faust might drop her, he bent his knees and hoisted her higher up on the wall. In his arms, she weighed close to nothing. She missed feeling tiny against him.

"Miss my cock?" He growled in her ear.

"Yes, baby. Oh my gosh, of course, I missed it. I missed my big man."

"Yeah? Fuck, I miss my little pussy," Faust breathed. "Mm, show me those gorgeous tits."

Faith unbuttoned her work polo and stretched the collar down around her breasts for Faust to bury his face. Though there wasn't an abundance of flesh to lose himself in, Faust shivered from the first taste of her nipples. With muted groans of pleasure, he rammed into her until Faith could no longer contain her cries, unaccustomed to his girth. Faust absorbed her whimpers with his mouth, coaxing her tongue until she only hummed.

He felt ferocious from the last twenty-four hours. If he could make Faith scream without drawing attention, Faust would have slammed her into the wall and fucked her until she shredded her vocal cords. He had to keep a low profile. Even visiting Faith was a considerable risk, but one he relished taking as she clamped her thighs and rutted against him.

He supported her ass in both hands and shifted off the wall to fuck her standing up. While he took her this way, she wrapped her arms around his neck and whimpered, whispering, "yes, fuck my pussy hard, big boy. Oh, I love that big cock inside me."

Faust unhooked and held her out so he could watch her breasts jiggle with every bounce. "You still taking your birth control? I'm gonna fucking bust so hard inside you, baby."

"Yeah. Yeah, baby, do it. Fill my pussy, please. I want your cum."

Her dirty talk and sweet sobs for his cock pushed him over the edge. He cradled her head as he pushed her against the wall and throbbed between her legs until empty. Faust pulled out and immediately turned her around and bent her over to watch globs of fresh cum dripping from her wet slit. He used one finger to push some of it back inside and had her suck off the rest. Afterward, he pulled up his pants and compressed her against the wall, one hand over her mouth while the other worked her clit in gentle circles. Faust didn't stop until she squealed and shuddered against him, muffled in his jacket and writhing from the manual orgasm.

When Faith calmed down, he released her and stepped away, pulling a cigarette from the squished pack in his jacket pocket. The lighter's flame created an orange halo around his face and promptly died. He smoked like nothing had happened while she fixed her skirt, buttoned her polo and zipped up her coat.

Faith smiled up at her lover, the night blotting out most of his features.

"I'm so glad you're home," she said.

"Not for long," Faust exhaled.

Her heart quivered. "Wait, what?"

"I gotta go back."

"When?"

"Tonight."

"What? No! But... You just got back," said Faith.

Faust shrugged, his leather jacket speaking for him. The evening matured, consuming the details of her hurt expression until the streetlamps along the road came to life.

"Why did you come here?"

Faust took one last long haul off his cigarette and flicked it down the alleyway. "Listen to me, Faith... You need to quit asking questions. I'm serious. The more questions you ask, the worse it'll be. And you and I did not see each other tonight. As far as you know, I'm on tour. Understand?"

"Yes," Faith said to appease him.

"I want to stay, trust me. But I can't. You know why. All the answers you want, you already have. Don't keep bugging, don't mention it ever again."

"I want to go with you," she whispered.

"No. You stay. Go to your classes, go to work, go visit your parents. Everything normal. And I don't want you moping around either. You put on that pretty smile, and you pretend for me. I'll call you in a couple of weeks before the last show and arrange a way for you to get there."

"What do you mean you’ll call in couple of weeks?" Faith whined. “What about goodnights?”

"I don't have a phone anymore."

"Why—? Oh, um... Okay. I understand."

Faust gathered the girl up in his arms and kissed the top of her head. "Good girl. I love you, and I miss you."

"I love you, too."

He tipped her face up and sensed tears forming in her eyes. Faust shook his head. "No crying. We'll see each other very soon. Just a couple more weeks."

"I know," she sighed.

"I love you more than anything, Faith. Now, go catch your bus. Should be here in a few minutes."

"But what about you?"

"Don't worry about me. I'm on tour. I'm not even here," he explained.

Faust kissed her again, smoothed his hands over her shoulders and turned her to face the bus stop. He urged her along. "No looking back. Hop on the bus and go do your schoolwork."

"Okay," she said, determined to make him proud. Faith walked out of the shadows and into the lamplight hovering over the depot. Across the lot, the city bus pulled in, and though she longed to turn around to see Faust watching over her, she kept her eyes forward and waited. When the bus pulled up, and the doors drew back, she stepped onto the platform and smiled at the driver as she scanned her pass. Faith took a seat in the back and put in her earbuds. She searched through a list of bands and selected the only one whose logo was illegible. As she pressed play, she listened to the immediate assault of the drums, their constant and violent beat. Faith smiled—warm in her chest and between her legs.

#faust x faith #valter skarsgård smut #valter skarsgård fanfiction #valter skarsgard fanfiction #Valter Skarsgard imagine

83 notes · View notes

blog4snape · 3 years

Text

What if I Meant it? (2)

Pairing: (young) Severus Snape (M) x Reader (F)

Genre: Fluff with some soft angst

Rating: Citrus (very safe for work)

Summary: A follow-up from the previous chapter. After Severus leaves your classroom, you notice he left his book behind.

Warnings: *spoilers* invasion of privacy

Word Count: 1.7K

Date Written: 9/10/2020

~~~~

June 18th, 1978

After Severus left your classroom in a huff, you sighed, turning your gaze over to the indentation he had left in the pit. He had forgotten his book. You pulled yourself up from your chair and crossed the room to the fortress of pillows, gingerly picking up the discarded item. The book opened naturally to an outlined message, the words smudged from constant touch. Several pages were folded into the shape of a heart with notes written hastily into the inner margins. Curious, you squinted your eyes trying to read the blotched and scribbled writing in the inner corner of the book. Your face flushed, immediately snapping the book shut and holding it farther away from you.

After a moment of collecting yourself, you stared down at the cover of his book. It was an outdated divination book, one he must have gotten from a secondhand book shop for next to nothing. ‘But then again,’ you thought to yourself, ‘all of divination is quite outdated.” You scratched your scalp.

In your syllabus and throughout the first week of classes, you had expressed that there was no need for any of your students to buy the books. You didn’t require any of your students to purchase divination books, as most of the lessons you taught were hands-on anyway and the books were frankly full of rubbish. Tracing a finger over the worn-out cover, you smiled softly to yourself. Severus was an excellent listener--it couldn’t have been a mishearing--he must have taken an interest in the subject to go out of his way to purchase a divination book.

‘Or in you.’ The words floated in your head, reminding you of the notes you had just seen scratched into the book still in your hands.

You sighed, laying in the pit. It was still warm from where Severus had been resting, and you caught a hint of the scent of pine and lavender that would tend to cling to him. You opened the book once more, flipping through the notes he had written.

“That dunderhead Potter wasn’t paying attention to the lesson on Ichthyomancy. He got slapped by the fish we were working with today-”

You laughed, remembering the giant trout that smacked James Potter’s face last week when he decided to mess with it during your lesson after your instruction not to. “You deserved it, Potter,” you laughed, causing other students to follow your footsteps. You said it then and you’d say it again now.

“-It was pretty great, even the professor laughed at him. She has a cute laugh.”

As your eyes traveled further down the page, seeing what Severus thought of your laugh made it halt in your throat. Your cheeks burned as you continued to read the comments he wrote. The majority of all of the writing was about divination class- most of them were notes he had written from the lectures. You allowed yourself to have a new teacher’s proud grin, seeing that he was getting a lot out of your lessons. But as you kept turning pages, you found yourself appearing in the margins more and more. Not all of the words were about you, but many of them mentioned you in some way or another.

‘I told her I had taken quite a liking to ferns. The next week she waved me over after class with a huge smile on her face. She looked so excited. She gave me a tiny fern plant whose sparse fronds had yet to unfurl.’

Next to the note was a small doodle of a baby fern. You grinned, it was the cutest drawing you’ve ever seen.

‘She tutored me after class today. She told me to “keep up the good work” and hugged me afterward.’

You nodded, glad to help your students feel more confident in their abilities and glad that Severus Snape was one of them.

‘She baked us biscuits because we all got high marks on the test last week. They tasted good.’

You smiled, happy to know your students liked your gifts. For every test they aced, you would give your students biscuits as a reward. You figured the upperclassmen deserved a treat every now and then, as they’re usually stressing about the OWLs and their NEWT classes.

‘She has pretty eyes.’

Your smile faded. You had to read that line again. You adjusted the book in your hands, moving one hand to your temple. Were you reading that right?

‘She held me while I cried. It was all I’ve ever wanted. I want her to hold me again.’

‘She doesn’t want to tell me about who she saw that night. But, she didn’t ask me about the werewolf. So I guess I’ll stop asking her. For now.’

That night a boggart was in your classroom. You bit your index nail, images of your boggart pressing into your mind. With all that had been happening lately, you didn’t even realize he had stopped asking you but you instantly felt gratitude blossom in your chest. You read the past two notes again, feeling regret at the way you handled the situation. You wished you had been harsher. Any other teacher wouldn’t have given in to his demands. But he wasn’t just your student--he was your old friend.

‘Her hands are soft.’

Was he just your friend? Your heart thumped, wondering if he only thought of you as his friend, also.

‘I like her plants. She’s got a bunch all over the classroom. Whenever I ask her about one, she gets so excited and tells me all she can about it. I already knew most of it, but I haven’t the heart to interrupt her. I like when she gets passionate about something, and the way she rambles about plants is cute.’

The note was surrounded by small drawings of the plants around your classroom. You stroked the ink outlines of the leaves with an appreciative grin. He was rather talented.

‘She’s so cute when she’s setting something on fire.’

Despite the flush on your cheeks, you chuckled a bit. Divination allowed you to set a lot of things on fire, and sometimes you seemed just a bit too eager. ‘So are you,’ you murmured, thinking of Severus’ passion for learning.

‘She smiled at me today and told me something. I was too focused on her mouth to remember what she said.’

You absentmindedly stroked your lips. You took a moment to swear at yourself- urging yourself to stop reading this book, to stop reading Severus’ private feelings, and to stop feeling your own feelings, but you just kept going.

‘She named one of her plants, “Snargs.” I don’t know why, because it wasn’t even a Snargaluff, but it made me chuckle anyway.’

You smiled at the mention of your plant. Next to the note was a drawing of Snargs, your forever-flowering cactus with the name ‘Snargs’ written in a curly font above the plant. You looked up, seeing Snargs sitting on the high windowsill with his petals dancing in the soft summer breeze. You blew a kiss to him, placing his weekly watering schedule at the back of your mind as you kept reading.

‘She gave me a gift last Christmas. It was a new bag for my books. I saw her staring at the holes in my old bag the month before. The box didn’t have a sender, but I knew it was her. I could smell her perfume on it and it was her handwriting on the note inside.’

Embarrassed, you scratched the inside of your arm. You tried to be sneaky about your gift but it was certainly difficult getting anything past someone as observant as Severus. The two of you didn’t participate in the holiday’s secret santa event, but you could tell he desperately needed a new bag. His previous bag looked a century old, full of holes and nearly falling apart at the seams. His materials constantly fell out of his bag, and you had grown sorrowful every time he had to backtrack with downfallen eyes and a red face to retrieve his dropped items. You knew he didn’t want your pity, and you were afraid if you gave the bag to him in person he’d reject it, so you decided to be as anonymous as possible. You were glad he decided to use it anyway despite knowing where it came from in the end. Smiling, you wondered if he’d accept the gift if it came from anyone else.

Then, for the next few pages shaped like a heart, he had written your name in the margin in his best calligraphy, with pulsing hearts, twinkling stars, blossoming flowers, swimming fish, and tiny sketches of tarot cards. You stared, mesmerized at his magicked art, caressing the moving lines with your fingers. He wrote your names together in a heart, side by side with his. You couldn’t help the smile bubbling onto your curious face as you slowly took in every addition, fiddling with the corner of the dog-eared pages that had been shaped into a heart. You flipped the page, confused--there were tiny hearts drawn around an inky black mass. The mass was a jumble of rough sketch-lines, but they started to move. Your breath caught in your throat as the lines scribbled down on the paper formed an image of you, turning around and smiling. Nothing but astounding brightness was in your features, a direct contrast to the next notes he had written down.

‘I wonder if she feels the same as I do. She has to, right?’

You just couldn’t answer that question right now. You bit your lip, glancing up at the door as if Severus could burst in at any moment. You sighed, thinking about him as your eyes dropped back to the writing. Swallowing the lump in your throat, you stroked the next horrible words beneath your finger, feeling his self-doubt emanating from the paper.

‘But who could ever like someone like me?’

The next note was a long paragraph, but whatever words you could see were smudged and crossed out. Ink had been spilled on top of the page, the black streaks marring the yellowed pages. The corner of the page was brandished with scorch marks.

~~~~

A/N: Thank you for reading! These “one-shots” (lol) are from a series called Afterimages of You. Here’s the masterlist for all of the one shots I have posted in the series. a big ol thank you to @thats-mrs-snape-to-you @bush-viper-cutie and @littl-prince for helping me, i love you guys!!

166 notes · View notes

vs-redemption · 3 years

Note

Hey, im not sure if your requests are open if not ignore this lol but do you think you can do a part two of finding out their unknown child is/was being abused by their mother with Shouto and any other character you would like? (May I ask if Shouto's child could be a girl if it's not too much? Im soft when it comes to him having a daughter🥺) Sorry for being a bother if requests are closed. I can't find where it says if it is or not. Thank you!❤

From Cindy: I’ve written so many of these now! I hope they’re not getting repetitive. It was really nice writing Todoroki (I’ve been thinking about him with a kid recently anyway) And I chose Dabi as the second character because the only other villain I did this scenario for was Shigaraki.

A Surprise Meeting (Todoroki and Dabi meet their abused child)

You can read the same scenario but with Bakugo, Iida, and Aizawa HERE You can read the same Scenario with Hawks, Fatgum and Shigaraki HERE

Warning:⚠️Angst, Child Abuse, mentions of murder/killing⚠️

Shoto Todoroki

Winter was in full effect as Shoto made his way home after his evening patrols. There was a thin layer of snow covering the ground already, and with the rate in which the white fluff was currently coming down, he predicted there would be even more to trudge through when he went to work in the morning. He decides to stop into the nearest convenience store to pick up something hot to eat. He wasn’t particularly cold since he was able to warm himself up pretty well with his quirk, but the pangs of hunger after a long day of work could not be ignored. He sighs in disappointment when he sees that the yakisoba bread is out of stock before going up to the counter and asking for a few steamed meat buns out of the glass case next to the register.

After purchasing his snack he went back outside into the snowy weather to continue his journey home. The sun had already set, so he took his time to enjoy the city streets which were decorated with holiday lights. A small bubble of excitement formed in his chest as he remembered the Christmas party he’d been invited to by one of his classmates from his days back in UA. After graduation, they’d all split up to start their own agencies around the country, so they tried to do something fun once a year as an excuse to see each other again and catch up.

“Mommy, can I have one of those?” the tiny voice pulls Shoto from his day dreaming and he looks across the street to see a mother and daughter making their way through the snow. The girl was really young, no more than five or six years old.

“No!” the mother’s answer comes out harsh and the little girl slumps her head.

“Okay,” the girl sighs and they continue walking. Shoto keeps watching them for moment just out of habit. After all, he was a pro-hero, so it was natural for him to be concerned over a woman and her child waking around after dark.

“Hurry! Up!” The mom suddenly snaps and yanks the daughter forward by the arm. The aggressive behavior makes Shoto flinch, especially when the little girl stumbles over her clunky snow boots and loses her footing. He knew parents lost patience with their children sometimes, but he couldn’t help the memories of his own childhood that resurfaced when he saw things like that.

“Sorry mommy,” the girl yelps when the woman pulls her back up. “But my feet are getting cold.”

“I don’t care if your feet are cold,” the mother lowers her voice. “Walk faster or I’m just going to leave you here in the snow to freeze! What do you think about that?”

Something about the woman’s voice was familiar to Shoto, but he couldn’t see who she was due to the fact she was bundled up in her coat and scarf. The way she treated her child, however, left a sour taste in his mouth. He wasn’t sure if it was his place to interfere though.

“No, please don’t leave me!” The little girl begins to sniffle and struggle harder to keep up with the mother’s pace. She grabs on to the woman’s coat so that she won’t get left behind.

“Stop hanging on me!” The woman whirls around and raises her hand angrily above her head. Shoto can’t stop himself from crossing the street to step in when he sees this. Unfortunately, he doesn’t make it in time to stop the woman from slapping the child, causing her to fall back into the snow while cupping her stinging cheek in her hands.

“Excuse me,” Shoto wasn’t even sure what to say. “Is everything all right?”

“Mind your own business!” The woman turns to face him but her eyes go wide when she sees who’d approached her. Shoto reels back in surprise as well. He knew this woman. He’d been in a relationship with her years ago, but she’d disappeared one day without ever saying why.

“I thought I’d never see you again,” Shoto felt extremely confused. “What happened?”

“I got pregnant,” she shrugs as if that weren’t a huge deal. Shoto’s eyes glance back to the tiny girl who had finally stood up and brushed the snow off her pants. She looks up at him and he feels the air leave his lungs. Her watery eyes were identical to his, and her hair was white with just a single lock in the front which was the same color as her mother’s. He had no idea what to do or say, so he simply reaches into the grocery bag to take out a hot meat bun to hand to her. She snatches up the food eagerly and starts munching away while Shoto looks back at his ex.

“What didn’t you tell me?” He asks, trying to keep all his emotions in check as he processes the information.

“Because I had plans for how I wanted to raise her,” the mother gestures to the girl. “And I didn’t want you to stop me. The people in your family tend to have powerful quirks. I wanted to capitalize on that, and I knew you wouldn’t like it.”

Flashbacks of the torturous trainings Endeavor had put him through as a child played in Shoto’s mind and he found himself getting angry. Just what had this woman done to the daughter he’d never even known about?

“Oh, calm down.” She says, noticing the change in the atmosphere. “It all backfired on me anyway. The girl got her quirk a few months ago and it’s nowhere near as powerful as yours or your father’s. Why do you think I’m back in town? I was planning on dropping her off on your doorstep soon anyway.” Shoto looks back at his little girl, sadness and rage consuming him. It hurt to know that she’d suffered with such a heartless parent for so long, just as he had.

“How could you talk like that about your own child?” Shoto asks, looking back at the mother.

“Don’t waste your time trying to make me feel bad,” She crosses her arms over her chest. “If you want her, take her. Otherwise I’ll find an orphanage to drop her off at.” Shoto was quick to shoot down the second option as he reaches down to lift the girl into his arms and cradle her against his chest. He feels a surge of love chase away the negative feelings in his heart as the small girl snuggles against the warmth of his left side.

He exchanges contact information with the mother so that he could get ahold of her when it came time to do all the legal paperwork that would allow him to adopt his daughter. With her cooperation, hopefully the process would go smoothly.

“Can I have another meat bun?” The girl asks shyly has he makes his way home with her in his arms so she wouldn’t have to be in the snow anymore.

“Yes, you can.” Shoto hands her the entire bag. “From now on, you can have anything you want.”

Dabi

Dabi didn’t always hang out in back alleys in the middle of the night, but when he did it was because the rest of the League of Villains had driven him to a point where, if he didn’t go off to cool down somewhere, he was liable to send them all into early graves. If he was honest with himself, the idea wasn’t without merits. There wasn’t a single one of his criminal comrades that didn’t annoy the ever loving daylights out of him. He had the misfortune though of needing them to achieve his wish of fulfilling the doctrine envisioned by the hero killer, Stain. It was for that one single reason that he didn’t end them all.

His self-imposed solitude worked wonders for a short time. The coolness of the night felt good against the burned flesh on his face and arms, but it was quiet times like these when bitter memories tended to creep into his mind and remind him of the reason he was even in the condition he was. He hated how difficult it was to just get a single moment’s peace. If he wasn’t being nagged half to death by the league, his mind was torturing him with images of his messed up past. That was the real reason behind his burning hatred. Sure, he had no problem killing as many heroes as dared to cross his path, but there was only one life that would really calm the bloodlust that constantly consumed him.

The sound of soft footsteps alerts Dabi to the presence of someone approaching. They were trying and failing to be sneaky, but he pretends to be oblivious while using his peripherals to size up the intruder. He wanted to laugh when he gets a glimpse of the form of a young boy, probably no older than seven or eight. He decided to end the kid’s ridiculous ploy before he ended up embarrassing himself.

“Didn’t your mom ever teach you not to play in dark alleys, kid?” Dabi doesn’t even bother to look at the boy who’d froze as soon as he realized he’d been caught.

“My mom’s dead,” the boy snaps and Dabi notes the vengeful tone of his voice.

“That sucks,” he says in a way that clearly showed his disinterest. Recently, Dabi’s only victims had been the scum of society. They were people who he considered so useless he couldn’t even be bothered to let them live after rejecting their pleas to join the League of Villains. “If you’re looking for revenge, I doubt it was me who killed her. And if it was, trust me when I say you’re better off.”

“I know you didn’t kill her,” the boy sounded more confident now, “because I did.” The confession throws Dabi off just a little, and he finds himself intrigued.

“Wow, kid.” He says, still sounding dismissive. “That’s pretty messed up.”

“Not as messed up as being abandoned by your father before you’re even born, and then spending your entire childhood getting slapped around by a deadbeat mom!” The kid’s voice cracks in the middle of his rant, betraying the vulnerability he was trying to hide.

“Oh,” Dabi deadpans. He was done with this conversation now. The boy’s words were seeping into his brain and poking at old traumatic wounds that were better left forgotten. If this child was out looking to cut down his father in cold blood, that was something Dabi could unfortunately relate to and understand completely.

“Well,” he speaks again once the kid failed to take the hint that he should scram. “Bothering me isn’t going to help you. If you die right here in this alley, you’ll never get the chance to fight your old man.”

Suddenly, a wave of heat rolls through the air and the entire alley lights up in eerie blue light. The familiar glow finally elicits a response from Dabi who widens his eyes and finally turns to look at the boy directly. He doesn’t know what to think when he sees bright blue flames dancing in the boy’s palms and around his arms. In the light of the fire, Dabi notices the way the boy’s brilliant blue eyes stare him down with a predatory glare that he knew all too well. It was all evidence leading him to the conclusion that he’d accidentally gotten some poor soul pregnant during his promiscuous mid-teen years. He wasn’t going to bother asking the name of the kid’s mom, he probably wouldn’t remember it anyway.

“It looks like you really drew the short stick when it comes to parents, kid.” Dabi takes a few steps towards the boy whose fire only grows with intensity the closer he gets. “I’m not sure if this’ll make you feel any better, but I can’t be blamed for abandoning someone I never knew existed.” The boy tenses up, looking unsure about what Dabi was trying to say.

“If you knew, would you’ve stayed?” He asks through clenched teeth.

“Probably not,” Dabi admits shamelessly. He kept his tone even although there was an inkling of jealousy worming its way up his spine. The boy had been wielding his blue flames for a decent amount of time now, with no hint that he was taking any damage. When Dabi had been his age, he’d already had permanent skin and nerve damage from the way his sweltering flames tore at his own body.

“You’re a monster!” The boy accuses before waving his arm to send a billowing blast of fire at his father. Dabi countered with his own burst of blue flames that knocked the boy right off his feet and onto his back. The boy scrambled to back away, but Dabi was looming menacingly over him in the blink of an eye.

“I’ve been called worse,” the villain says flatly while placing his boot on the boy’s stomach to keep him from getting away. He leans down so that his son could look into his face and understand the mistake he’d made by coming after him.

“Are you going to kill me?” the boy asks while trying to push Dabi’s foot off of him so he could breathe more comfortably.

“No,” the answer slips out before Dabi can even consider the alternative. “Not unless you try to threaten me again.” He puts a little more pressure onto his foot causing the boy to winch in discomfort. “That’s why you’re going to get out of here and never come looking for me again. You got that?” The boy nods his head obediently and Dabi removes his boot.

“I’ve got nothing to offer you,” he admits while the boy scrambles back to his feet. “Except more of the same miserable existence you’ve known until now.” The boy opens his mouth to speak, the confidence he’d shown before was long gone, but Dabi didn’t want to hear his pleading.

“Get out of here,” he allows his self-destructive flames to erupt all over his body, “now.” The boy didn’t need to be told twice. He understood the threat. He turned on his heel and ran from the alley. Dabi watched the retreating form of his son until he disappeared into the night. He takes a second to stare down at his scared hands as his brain comes to terms with what just happened. He now knew that he had a child out there in the world, but maybe it was best to tuck that knowledge away with the rest of the memories he tried so desperately to suppress. At the end of the day, it didn’t really change anything anyway.

#Shoto Todoroki #Bnha Dabi #Dabi #Toya Todoroki #bnha imagines #mha imagines #bnha #mha #writing requests #Cindy's Writing

166 notes · View notes

stargaze-issei · 3 years

Text

— 𝐟𝐮𝐜𝐤, 𝐛𝐨 !

𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐦𝐩𝐭; catching feelings as fuck buddies with bokuto.

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬; suggestive themes.

𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞; idk lol

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭; 1470

𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞; this is more a word dump and i'm not sure if it makes sense bc i wrote this in class. anyways, bokuto brainrot 😌

a glance across his bed sheets was enough to delight your sight with bokuto’s broad back, you could hear his deep breath and imagine his strong chest going up and down, just to let yourself drown in the peace of a morning after. the chances of spending a night with him were high, but mornings were a different matter. his figure always laid by your side for a few minutes, both trying to catch your breath back. such an intimate touch you shared minutes ago only for him to avoid your skin now. once koutaro rested enough, he usually got up, dressed while talking about a random topic, never addressing to your close encounters and kissed your head goodbye before leaving your house. that’s what you agreed to, although it always hurt to see how easy it was for him.

he turned around, still completely asleep, his hands searching for you in bed. you thought, he searched for you, you hoped. there’s no harm in dreaming, you would say to yourself, unless those fantasies involved a future with someone who, in reality, didn’t want you. not the way you did.

“did i wake you?” his voice was raspier than usual, despite being almost whispering it made you jump on your place. “was i snoring?” bokuto’s arm found its way to wrap you in a hug, bringing you closer to him. your heart started to race at the sudden touch, he wasn’t entirely naked anymore, and it wasn’t the first nor the last time you touched his bare chest, but sex couldn’t compare with feeling his strong arms pulling you in, his warm chest providing you of the needed hot, feeling his breath on your neck.

“uh, no, i woke up a while ago” you answered. although you barely got any sleep, to be near kou was enough to keep you in your tiptoes through the whole night.

“are you hungry? i think i have some leftovers from dinner”

“we’re having breakfast? i thought—” a sleepy chuckled abandoned his throat at your comment, interrupting you. he, again, accommodated himself in bed, taking distance from you as before.

“before all this, the sex i mean, we used to hang out a lot” bokuto reminds you teasingly, rubbing his eyes in order to wake up. “let’s go, we’re eating, take one of my shirts, you know where everything is” as his usual self, a stroke of energy hit him out of nowhere, making him jump outside of bed.

you sat, looking straight at him. the only piece of clothing he had on was his underwear, his hair was down and some scratches were left on his back. he walked towards the window to open the curtain and let the morning sun in, a wide smile planted on his face, contagiously making you smile too. what bokuto said before kept wondering in your mind, the time before your agreement, when he was just your friend, when that bubbly feeling in your stomach at the sight of him didn’t exist.

“come on, get up!” he bugged you, throwing one of his shirts to you. you smiled at his playfulness, a trait you hadn’t seen in a long time. your meetings slowly became less friendly and more focused on other subjects. before, you would know what he was stressing about and what he wanted to do for the weekend, now, instead, you knew that if you kissed the crook of his neck, a soft moan came out unpurposely of his mouth, or that his eyes rolled up and his mouth half opened when you caressed his inner thighs.

with a sigh, you pushed yourself out of bed, putting the given shirt above your shoulders. despite the subtle smell of soap, a hint of bokuto’s characteristic mint scent was still perceptible, provoking your head to go a little dizzy. you walked outside the room, following bokuto to the kitchen, where he was already preparing the scrambled eggs.

“i thought we were having leftovers.” you joked, sitting close to him to admire his morning face. it never failed to amaze you how effortlessly beautiful koutaro could be.

“we haven’t actually spent time together in a while, our reunion deserves more than leftovers.” his words were accompanied by a wink. you knew anything he said had no secret meaning, he was just blatantly showing his character, his nice, charming character, captivating everyone around him, including you. his acts had no malice hidden in them, you were aware of that, bokuto was just one of those people.

“what do you mean? we saw each other like a week ago” you knew what he meant, you knew it better than him, but playing dumb was the only way you had to hide your true feelings.

as you ate, he told you all about his practice with the black jackals, his new teammates, how amazing they were and how excited he was to play in a professional team. he had been beyond busy, promoting the team and himself, hence to why he barely had time to reach to you or anyone outside his volleyball world. he talked about hinata, his so called apprentice, his new setter “nowhere better than akaashi'', and the second best hitter of his team, behind him. hours went by as both of you told stories and laughed over them, bonding like you did when you first met. for a moment, you thought maybe your love wasn’t as one sided as you thought, his smiles, his glowing eyes, his hugs and jokes, could easily point at that wished situation, where you could openly fall in love with him and not being just a sex compannion for the day.

“yeah, i know, but– we didn’t exactly speak” bokuto seemed oddly comfortable in the kitchen, talking and looking for anything he needed. he kneeled in front of a cabinet, took out a wooden plank, and then placed the pan above it, in front of you. “voilá” he grinned.

the sun wasn’t up in the sky anymore, sunset lights painted the whole of bokuto’s living room, including the coach where you both sat. his arm was across your shoulders, your head rested on his chest, and his loose hand played with your head. you could've swore that was your place in the world, always beside him, the ray of hope of having a reciprocate love with bokuto koutaro made you feel like floating. his lips searched your head before taking away his hug and getting up from the couch.

“it’s getting late, i’ll drive you home.” he offered, a soft gesture forming in his face. you accepted, any excuse to be around him for a few more minutes was enough for you.

the drive to your place was quiet, he seemed focused on the roads so he didn’t notice your constant staring, or so you thought. bokuto wasn’t as clueless as everyone thought, he paid attention to details and made pretty accurate conclusions, that he decided to keep them to himself was something else. he had an idea of what was behind your staring, your longing touch, your sad glances everytime he left you in bed. he had already figured out what was going on on your mind, and he would be a liar if he said he hadn’t questioned himself in those exact situations. he felt different when he was with you, since the beginning, even before your pact, you were always special to bokuto. but he knew, in the bottom of his heart, he knew he couldn’t profess his somewhat feelings for you. first, because he had no time for anything besides his career, and he was sure you deserved someone who devoted their heart to you as much as you did for them. second, he didn’t have the heart to tell you he knew all along. you were his friend, his most precious friend, and break your heart was not a thing he could bear.

bokuto parked outside your door, shooting a quick glance at you before unlocking the door. you looked at him, searching for a sign that gave him off. unlucky for you, bokuto was set on keeping his things to himself, convinced that he was doing the right thing to keep you unharmed. a sigh left your mouth before opening your door.

“i guess i’ll see you later, bo” a hint of sadness was in your voice, but bokuto couldn’t bring himself to do anything but say goodbye.

“sure, i’ll call you next weekend to our regular appointment” accompanied with a wink on his face.

you got off, trying to hold back the tears gathering in your eyes. if you had looked back, you would’ve seen bokuto’s heart breaking as he watched you walk away from him.

maybe i was making it all up.

#haikyuu #haikyuu x reader #bokuto x reader #bokuto haikyuu #bokuto imagines #bokuto koutaro #bokuto scenario #haikyuu imagine #haikyuu scenarios #– star's; originals! [❀]

107 notes · View notes

delaber · 3 years

Text

Just Friends (Part 12)

Story Summary: After moving to America for a 3-month long internship, you meet two interesting characters on a boring night out.

Word Count: 4.6K

Pairing: Rafael Casal x Reader

Warnings: Alcohol, minor drug use, smut, angst, slight dom!Rafa, swearing, and loads of British references (sorry not sorry lol)

Chapter Note: Okay so I probably should’ve tagged this story with angst. Whoops. Sorry guys

Tag List: lonelydance mysearchforgratification ramp-it-up blndspotting summerofsnowflakes exrthangel honeysucklechocolatedrippin captaintightpants58

Other Parts: See Masterlist

On Friday at 11 pm, you practically ran out the door of the lab, happy that you had managed to get so much work done within the past week. You needed some well-deserved time off and you could not wait to see Rafa and party with him and his friends all night. You had changed into the green dress that Samantha had picked out for you and was careful not to get it all sweaty as you fast-paced to the closest metro-line, hopping on the first train, eager to party.

As you arrived outside the guys' house, you could tell that it was already packed with people as laughter and rap music was booming out of the open windows in the kitchen. With a significant bounce in your step, you walked to the front door and stepped inside. The music was almost unbearably loud inside the house as you took a look around the room.

With Diggs' birthday present in hand (a bottle of Scotch and some British toffees) you did a quick scan for either the birthday boy or Rafa but was interrupted by a voice coming from the kitchen, "are you looking for Daveed? ‘Cause he disappeared into the bathroom with a girl a couple of minutes ago," a beautiful woman smiled at you. You vaguely recognised her as the girl who'd played Rafa's girlfriend in Blindspotting.

"Glad to hear that he's enjoying his birthday," you laughed, "you wouldn't happen to know where I can find Rafael?"

The girl's eyes widened, "Ooh! You're the British chick that Rafa's been on and on about for months now!" she presented her hand to you, "I'm Jasmine."

You shook her hand but your mind was elsewhere, "Rafa's been on about me... for months?"

"Yeah! I first heard about you way back in November at our annual Thanksgiving-party. He didn't know how to woo you," Jasmine smiled warmly, "and when I saw him again on Christmas day, he was still talking about wooing you even though he hadn't seen you since."

"You're kidding me!" you laughed.

"Nope!" Jasmine joined you in laughing, "he was clearly wounded by how completely uninterested you were," she chuckled.

"Aw, that poor little famous man!"

"Yeah it does get to his head sometimes. So it's really great when someone like you finally shows up and forces him to take it down a notch."

"Always happy to kindly pick him apart," you joked.

"Oh, you did way more than that!" Jasmine smiled, "to this day he will not shut up about you," she groaned playfully, "what happened? Did he finally drop by your house as we all advised him to do?"

"Nope," you shook your head with a low chuckle, "we actually bumped into each other randomly at new years."

"Ugh, I knew he'd chicken out!" Jasmine sighed, "Well I'm glad to hear that it worked out anyway - even though I have to admit that it's slightly hurtful that he didn't take any of his friends' advice," she smiled, "especially since we all told him to do the same thing; just leave a damn note."

Although you were flattered that Rafa had been talking to his friends about you even before you'd bumped into him again on new years, you had to admit that it was mildly surprising too. You were slowly realising that Rafa may have downplayed exactly how much he had thought about you in the weeks between your first and second encounter.

Jasmine's voice brought you back to reality, "You got him good," she laughed, "I don't think he's had such a challenge in years! It clearly humbled him that you didn't throw yourself at him at the first chance you got. We all adore you for leaving him desperate for more on the curb."

"Glad to be of service!" You laughed as well, already fond of Jasmine. She seemed just as carefree and bubbly as Samantha.

"Why don't we go see if we can find him? I know he's been dying for you to get here, looking at his phone every two seconds," Jasmine smiled at you.

"Yeah, I've been looking forward to it too," you smiled.

"I think he's playing beer pong in the living room."

You put down Daveed's present on a small table and followed Jasmine to the next room where most of the party goers were either dancing, talking in clusters, or playing various drinking games. Just as Jasmine had predicted, Rafa was playing beer pong with a group of people looking excitedly at the game unfolding before them. Rafa was in a light shirt and black slacks, the golden bracelet he always wore swung loosely around his wrist. His hair was in its normal slight swoop, the stubble on his chin a bit longer than you'd seen it before. He looked damned good as he was laughing with his friends.

"Hey Casal!" Jasmine said and gained his attention.

Rafa looked up at her with an expectant look on his face, clearly waiting for her continue speaking. His gaze quickly flickered to you, and when your eyes finally met, he had the same reaction as the night you'd met on new years eve; eyes softening significantly, smile slowly cracking on his face until his mouth was spread as wide as it possibly could, a hand flying to his heart as he took in your appearance. Without breaking his eye contact with you, he padded his teammate on the back and mumbled something to him before he stepped over to you, immediately pulling you tight against his chest.

"Hi," he whispered softly against you, "fuck, you look amazing," he grumbled, "I love that dress," his hands slid over your back and came to a rest just above your hip bone.

"Thanks. You look very handsome," you threw your arms around his waist, and looked up at him, almost wishing you could kiss him.

"Is it the beard?" he smiled, a slight growl to his voice.

"Yeah, you look almost grown-up," you chuckled, "where's the snarky boy from the bar?"

"Oh, he's long gone," Rafa winked down at you before he let you go when his teammate shouted his name.

"Hey, why don't you go make yourself a drink and I'll join you shortly?" he smiled, and sent Jasmine a look that silently asked her to take care of you.

"Come," Jasmine tugged on your arm, "I could use a drink as well."

You reluctantly left Rafa to go back to his game of beer pong and followed Jasmine to the other end of the living room. You both mixed a piña colada from the self-service bar, and sat down in a vacant spot in the sofa.

You looked around at the rest of the people in the sofa area, eyes almost immediately interlocking with the man you had met in the living room as you had snuck out the door on January 1st. He looked at you playfully, "Oh hey! I almost didn't recognise you with your clothes on!"

"Oh god," you groaned and laughed in the hopes of shrugging off the embarrassment you felt at the thought, "Definitely not my finest moment!"

"You don't say," he laughed and filled Jasmine in on what had happened that morning. Apparently, they knew each other as well.

"You walked out on Rafa on new years day as well?" Jasmine chuckled, "No wonder he was so grumpy when I called and wished him and Diggs a happy new year."

"Oof, you should've seen him when he found out you'd snuck out the door," the man sent you an anxious smile, "he was not happy! ...But you made up I'm guessing," he said, still smiling widely, "seeing as you're here and all."

"We did," you nodded, slightly embarrassed by how all of his friends apparently were involved in your situation but you shrugged it off with a joke, "so he only uses his friends to unload when he's frustrated? He hasn't even gotten around to tell you all about the happy ending and our rekindling friendship," you smiled.

"Yeah, he's a dick," Jasmine chuckled.

Sofa-man laughed, "Nah, we can take it. We all know that he's just insanely private about the women he fall in love with."

"The women he fall in love with?!!?!" You shrieked but no one really seemed to hear neither your voice nor your heart that was beating like crazy in your chest.

Rafa was in love????

"Oh come on," Jasmine rolled her eyes at sofa-man, "He's not private at all! He just hasn't had anyone to tell us about for years! You know Rafa. He's a big softie posing as a tough guy."

"Yeah, well that's true," the man laughed, "It's actually quite nice to finally meet the woman who was able to tie that boy down."

You felt yourself going dizzy. This was a lot to take in. Did you already mean as much to Rafa as his friends were implying? You were aware of the fact that he was insanely sexually attracted to you and that he was fond of your company - and if you were completely honest with yourself, you also knew that Rafa had a major crush on you but by the way his friends were talking about it Rafa had fallen in lo-

"Heeeeey!" a man behind you broke your stream of thoughts as he put his hands on your shoulders, "you came!"

You looked up to a smiling Daveed who looked quite tipsy.

"Daveed!" you did your best to look excited as if the news that Jasmine and the other guy had broken to you a few seconds before hadn't toppled you, "happy birthday!"

"Aw thanks," he hugged you, "did you say hi to Rafa? He's right over there," he pointed to an overly-confident Rafa who was juggling two ping pong balls.

"Yeah, we just came from over there," Jasmine laughed from beside you.

"Oh Jas!" Daveed said excitedly as if he'd only just realised that she was there, "I see you've finally met Rafa's girl!"

Before Jasmine had even had the chance to think of an answer, you swooped around, "not his girl," you pointed at Daveed and said for what felt like the millionth time since you'd gotten to know him. "I'm not Rafa's girl," you looked back at Jasmine and the man from January 1st too. They both shot you weird looks.

"Oh, trust me. You're his girl," Daveed snickered, apparently not catching on to your tone.

"I assure you I'm not!" you smiled sweetly, "we're just friends. Please stop calling me his girl. We’re friends,” you were aware that your voice was sounding desperate and pleadingly.

The smile finally disappeared from Daveed's face when he heard your tone of voice, "Are you sure Rafa's aware of that?" he furrowed his eyebrows.

"He knows!" you nodded to convince him.

"Uh, that's not really the vibe he's been sending," sofa-man said quietly from behind you.

You looked between the three friends, all of them sending you concerned looks.

"Uuuuh.... I... I need to run to the bathroom real quick," you said suddenly and stood up from the sofa, grateful that your feet took you away from the conversation without you really having to steer them. They walked in the opposite direction of the bathroom, steering towards the pool area outside instead. Air! You needed air!

You quickly walked by Rafa and his group of friends playing beer pong, praying that he didn't see you, but luckily it seemed as if he was far too concerned with the last cup standing in front of the opposite team to notice anything else.

Quickly, you opened the door to the outside, snaked your way out and slid it soundlessly shut behind you. You sat down on a bench overlooking the pool thinking about what Rafa's friends had said. Was he really so smitten with you? You couldn't decide whether you felt happy or suffocated. You were going home in a week for crying out loud! If Rafa had fallen in love with you it would complicate things a bunch! You cursed yourself for having played along for so long when deep down you knew that it was bound to happen to at least one of you. You felt like a bloody idiot!

Although... if you were completely honest with yourself, you had to admit that Rafa wasn't the only one who was smitten; you had fallen for him pretty hard as well. You had tried to fight it relentlessly but in the end his sincere nature and sweet gestures had made cupid shoot heart-shaped arrows at you. You thought of the last couple of weeks and how hard it had been for Rafa to keep his hands to himself. It had been quite sweet how involuntary it had all been and how he had practically touched or kissed you at every chance he got. He just couldn't help himself. The thought alone of his helpless, wandering hands made the butterflies flutter awake in your stomach. And you realised that even though you had fought hard to avoid it, you were actually crazy in love with him too. It felt as if you were high as you finally let yourself indulge in the feeling of being in love with him. The feeling ended abruptly, however, as you realised that the two of you didn't have a happy ending. That you still had to go home. That everything was indeed screwed.

Your train of thoughts was interrupted by the sound of the door behind you sliding slightly open before it was closed again. Not two seconds later, you were joined by Daveed who sat down next to you.

"Hey, are you okay?" he asked you as he put a reassuring hand on your arm.

"Yep!" you said a little too chipper to sound believable.

"Is it Rafa?"

You didn't know why you had felt the need to pretend in front of Daceed, so you immediately let down your guard, "how'd you guess," you sighed unenthusiastically.

"What'd the idiot do now?" he too sighed.

"He didn't do anything."

"What are you sitting out here all sad for then?"

"Because I just had an epiphany," you looked up at Daveed.

"An epiphany?" He sent you an amused smile, "sounds interesting. About what?"

"About Rafa," you squinted at him as if the sun was blinding you, "I think we're in love..."

Daveed's smile grew wide, "oh, great! So you finally admit it? He's going to be stoked!"

"It's not exactly great news..."

"Why not?" Daveed laughed, "when is being in love ever bad news?"

"It is when one part is leaving the country in a week," you shot him a pained expression.

"Oh. Yeah," Daveed said slowly, his sassiness visibly dropping to zero, "That part sucks, I know."

"Yep!"

"Which is why I don't understand why you aren't in there soaking up every last minute you have left with him."

"Ugh," you buried your face in your hands, a small desperate laugh escaping your lips, "because this is so complicated. I didn't mean for this to happen. I'm usually so in control!"

Daveed laughed, "well I for one know that Rafa has been desperate to get you to drop the act and just smooch him already."

"Oh my god," you laughed into your hands, "I can't believe he's even involved all of his friends. Jasmine and that guy you were hanging with on new years day knew exactly who I was. They told me that Rafa's been ready from the beginning because I was so dismissive towards him."

"Yeah, you spellbound him," Daveed laughed.

"Did I bring this upon myself?" You squinted up at Daveed.

"You're putting too much on your own shoulders. Rafa knew from the get-go that you had to go back to Europe after a couple of months - granted, at first, I think he just saw you as an interesting fuck, but he could've stepped out when he realised that he wanted to hold you tight and buy you hotdogs and what not," he elbowed you with a laugh.

"Yeah... yeah you're right. Do you think he'll handle it alright when I go fly back home?"

He smiled secretively, "he's probably gonna go full emo."

You looked up at Rafa's best friend who you knew would have his work cut out for him, "sorry..."

"Not your fault," Daveed laughed, "and I'm guessing that you'll still keep talking and maybe fly back and forth when you have the chance. I can handle emo-Rafa if you just handle happy-Rafa."

"Sounds like a fair distribution of roles," you laughed before going all serious, "what do I do now?"

"You tell him of course," Daveed smiled brightly, "and you two just enjoy the upcoming week. I'll find somewhere to stay so you can have crazy monkey sex all over the house without having to think about the cock-block of a roomie," he winked at you.

"You truly possess big 'best mate'-energy," you laughed.

"I do," he nodded.

You smiled at him for a second before the seriousness of the situation hit you again, "wow, I wish I wasn't so..." you couldn't find the right word.

"European?" Daveed finished.

"Yeah," you chuckled, "if I didn't live so fucking far away from here, it'd be a completely different situation."

"I know," Daveed said and hugged you, "cheer up. It's gonna suck for a while but you'll find a way."

"Thanks," you mumbled into his shoulder.

You were still hugging when you heard the door slide open behind you.

"I thought I saw you two out here," Rafa's voice called happily when he stepped outside.

Daveed slowly let go of you, allowing you to turn around and face Rafa who had a large grin plastered on his face.

"My best friend and my... other friend," he smiled drunkenly, "what a sight."

"I'll give you two some privacy," Daveed said with a wink before he went inside.

Rafa took Daveed's seat next to you, immediately pulling you close, "why were you and Diggs sitting out here all alone? Is everything okay?"

"Yeah," you smiled up at him, "yeah, everything's good."

"So you don't know why Jasmine looked at me all worried just before?"

"I kind of ditched her," you sent him an apologetic look.

"Aw, you don't like Jas?"

"I do! I just had to get some air and clear my head," you smiled.

"Yeah? Long day at the office?"

"You have no idea!" You laughed, "I hope you had a better day than I did."

"Mmh, I'm having the best day," he buried his face in your neck, "It's Diggs' birthday and you're here with me and I'm just having a really, really great night."

"Alright," you laughed, "well, in connection with that, I have something to tell you that I hope will make it even better," you grinned while he nuzzled against your neck. He was being really cute and you couldn't help but laugh at him, "this is a big deal, could you not act like a lovesick puppy right now?"

"No," he kissed your collarbone, "what do you want to tell me," he chuckled drunkenly.

You took a deep breath, "Rafa -"

"Mmmh," he interrupted you with a growl as he licked his lips, "I love it when you say my name," he grinned up at you.

"Be serious for once!" You laughed, "I'm about to blow your mind over here!"

"Mmmh, can't wait," he smiled, lips inching closer and closer to yours, his eyes glistening in the dim light from the pool. He smelled of beer and whiskey and it made you feel both adventurous and safe at the same time. His right hand was warm against the back of your neck as he closed the distance between you, his lips moving slowly and sensually against yours while his left hand was stroaking your thigh. He was humming slightly as he moved his body closer to you, the hand he had on your neck travelling to the middle of your thoracic spine where he pushed slightly, bringing your torso even closer to his. Kissing Rafa and finally allowing yourself to do so without feeling bad about it felt more amazing than you had ever imagined, and you felt your heart explode in a heap of colours as you both poured yourself into the slow kiss. All the nervousness you'd felt only moments before was now gone, and you suddenly couldn't wait to tell him that you were in love with him. Slowly, you pulled your lips away from his, earning yourself a small whimper from him.

"Rafa," you tried once more.

"I know, I know. You don't have to say anything," he stated flatly with a smile, his words a bit slurred from the alcohol, "I already know what you're gonna say."

"You do?" Amused, you arched an eyebrow at him.

"Yeah," he smiled confidently, "you're gonna call me out for kissing you and for wanting to fuck your brains out, and you're gonna remind me of your code and the fact that you're leaving in 7 days and blablabla," he said cockily, "and because I care about you, I'll pretend that I care about your code, so I'll tell you sorry and that I'll be on my best behaviour, and you'll accept my apology and I'll patiently wait for the next opportunity and start all over again until you finally say to hell with it all and act like you really want to. And around it goes," he smirked, his lips suddenly close to yours again, "does that sound about right?"

You blinked a few times while his words settled in your brain. Did he just say what you think he did? "Wait what? Hold up Rafa. Back up a second; You patiently wait for opportunities to overstep the boundaries of the friendship that we both agreed on? You keep pushing until I say to hell with it and let you do whatever you want?" You repeated with closed eyes, wondering if you'd understood him correctly, "are you saying that you did all of those more-than-friendly touches, and hugs, and kisses on purpose? That you were in fact able to keep your hands to yourself but you pretended not to be so you could make me say 'to hell with it?'," you looked at him rather unimpressed.

"I wanted to win you over," he shrugged with a crooked smile, "did I manage? It feels like I managed," he snickered. He did not look as cute right now as he had done only seconds before, the smell of beer and whiskey suddenly a tad bit sickening.

"So what you're saying is that you lied and pretended to be interested in being friends with me when in reality, all you could think about was planning your next move so I'd let you screw me?"

"Aw, come on. You're making me sound like a villain," he groaned.

"Rafa, let me get straight with you," you said sternly, "Don't you understand that I made those rules so this wouldn't happen?"

He finally seemed to understand the severity of the situation, "so what wouldn't happen?" He spoke in an offended tone as he straightened up.

"So we wouldn't fall for each other! And now I find out that you had an elaborate scheme to get me to throw myself at you when I told you specifically that I was not interested in that? What kind of a sociopat does that?" You stood up from the bench, anger bubbling more and more in your veins as you slowly realised what he'd done, "what the fuck, Rafa?!"

"You think I did it completely for myself?" He asked calmly but with offence still staining his tone of voice, "you think I did it to somehow lure you into sleeping with me? You really don't see that I did it because I thought you deserved to listen to your instincts for once instead of doing what you think is the right thing to do?"

"You had no right!"

"Hey, don't you dare put all the blame on me!" His voice was raised slightly as he too stood up from the bench, "you were just as bad at keeping your hands to yourself as I was! Inviting me up for tea and fucking cuddling," he spat.

"I had one weak moment!" You held up your finger.

"Oh don't give me that shit! You had several! How about kissing me in the living room after the concert? And a few days ago in Diggs' car? Or masturbating in front of me - or even whipping out your tits in the bathroom when you know I'm crazy about you?"

"That's the problem, Rafa! I thought you were just sexually frustrated! Had I known you were bonkers about me this whole time, I wouldn't have allowed it to come this far!"

"Oh you wouldn't have allowed it?" He said in a wild tone of voice, "well I'm fucking sorry for having my own free will. As if I need your permission to fall for you."

"I can't believe that I got caught up in your web," you scoffed. Mostly to yourself, "I mean; I knew you were dangerous! I knew you'd have the ability to smooth talk your way into my heart - but never in my wildest imagination did I think that you'd screw me over and do all of this on purpose to get me to fall for you. What did you do it for? Did you do it to check off the girl who rejected you? Self gratification? Bragging rights to your mates? A couple of weeks of sex? What Rafa?"

"Oh fuck you," he spat, "don't give me that shit when you're clearly just as crazy about me as I am about you."

"I'm not sure I am anymore," you said rather childishly.

"Yeah, keep telling yourself that so you can fuck off back to England without ever having to think of me again," he panted, "is that what you want? Is that really what you think is realistic? If you think you can put me in a box labelled 'my PhD-trip to California' and never think of me again, then you're clearly not as clever as I thought you were. Do you really think that just because you've tried to stay abstinent, that you could leave every thought of me across the ocean?" His voice broke as he took a step closer to you.

"I don't know what I thought," you said calmly, eyes piercing through him, "clearly, it was a mistake to engage in anything with you."

He pinched the bridge of his nose and took a deep breath, trying to calm himself down so he could be rational, "look, I'm sorry if I tricked you. It really wasn't my intention and I clearly made a mistake and you got hurt. I just need you to understand that I didn't do it on purpose; I just wanted to get you to act on your feelings instead of staying in your head. I just wanted you to enjoy your time here. With me."

"You ruined it, Rafa," you said slowly, "I don't care if you hurt me on purpose or not. You still did. You manipulated me."

"Baby come on," he croaked, his voice cracking.

"I'm not your baby," you whispered.

You looked at each other for a few seconds, his eyes drunk and hurt. "Is this is then?" He croaked with desperate hands gesturing to nothing in particular, "do you really think that my actions are so unforgivable that we can't see each other anymore?"

"No, it's not unforgivable. I just don't see the point in forgiving you when I leave in a bit anyway."

"You're breaking my heart," he said quietly.

"You broke mine first."

#rafael casal x reader #rafael casal #daveed diggs #blindspotting #rafael casal imagine #smut #rafael casal fanfiction #bay boys

55 notes · View notes

alolowrites · 3 years

Text

The Helpful Elf

Summary: The Hippity Hop Cat toy is the toy on every kid’s wish list this year, including Eri’s. With the toy flying off the shelves, you desperately ask Mirio, the Helper Elf at Hazuki’s ToyLand, for help. And Mirio doesn’t give up, especially when it comes to you.

Author’s Note: Hello everyone!!! Real life is being a pain right now, but I’m so glad I managed to finish this story right on time! It’s pretty long (for me lol) and it’s my first with Mirio so yay!! I also wrote it for the BNHASanctuary discord server’s winter collab (first time I ever participated in any collab), so I’m very excited about this. I’ll link and share the masterlist once it’s up. I can’t wait to read everyone else’s stories :D

Please enjoy!

Word Count: 2.5K+

With October long gone and December in full swing, it meant one thing—the official start of the jubilant holiday season. Every year, Japan’s most iconic department store in Tokyo, Hazuki’s, transformed its ten floors into a magical winter wonderland. Around the country and around the globe, customers ushered through the doors to catch a glimpse of the glamorous store glittering with festive decor.

Dazzling lights twinkled around the window displays that stretched around the block. Vibrant ornaments hung high above the ceilings like luxurious bubbles. And pine garlands peppered with red berries wrapped themselves along any rails that ran off forever.

Hazuki’s was the place to kick start the holiday season and the one place to find everything and anything on one’s holiday shopping list. Especially the highly coveted toy of the year—the Hippity Hop Cat.

Or so you thought.

“Mirio!”

“Huh?” Said man’s elf hat jingled when he looked away from his display. His blue eyes beamed at the sight of you. Mirio chirped out your name as you rushed forward, nearly knocking him over. “Whoa, you alright?”

“I need your help,” you blurted out, catching your breath at the same time; those pesky escalators were no use at all. Mirio offered to get water, but you waved him off. “No, no…no time for water. I need your help. It’s urgent!”

“Uh, sure, what can I do?”

“I need a toy, but not just any toy.” Mirio blinked when you suddenly inched closer to him. You scanned the area as though someone was lurking around to eavesdrop on your top-secret conversation. “It’s the Hippity Hop Cat, you know—”

“The cat whose hops are out of this world?”

“Yes, that one!” You clung to his shoulders like a desperate parent trying to find some shred of sanity in this chaotic store. Shaking the blonde man, you begged, “Please tell me you have one in stock?”

“Oh man,” Mirio scratched his forehead as he recalled the inventory from this morning. He glanced at your hopeless eyes and tight fists curling on his work uniform. There was no way Mirio could leave you hanging like this; it didn’t feel right. So he flashed you his famous smile that outshone the star twirling above you both. “Come with me. I’ll check in our system.”

“Gosh, you’re a lifesaver.”

Mirio humbly rubbed his neck as he led the way to the backroom. You eyed the uproarious floor covered with thousands of toys that rivaled Santa’s Workshop in the North Pole. It was like walking through a child’s dream. Every toy imaginable—dolls, electric cars, robots, board games, you name it—was here. Hopefully, that stayed true with the Hippity Hop Cat.

The door closed, muffling the sounds of frantic parents buzzing through the aisle. Mirio typed away on the keyboard as you paced behind him. You cursed yourself for procrastinating this long to buy the prized toy. Christmas was in less than two weeks!

“So who’s the gift for?”

“Oh!” His deep voice pulled you back to the present. You walked forward with folded arms, anxiously hugging yourself. “It’s for Eri, a sweet little girl my next-door neighbor, Shouta, adopted earlier this year. She had a rough upbringing, but fortunately, she’s living with someone who cares for her deeply.”

“I’m glad to hear that.”

“Yeah,” you smiled softly at Mirio, making his fingers freeze above the keyboard. That smile of yours took his breath away; he nodded but secretly tried controlling his heart that beat like a bass drum. It was difficult since you were so close to him. “This will be Eri’s first Christmas, and she wants the Hippity Hop Cat; I told Shouta I would buy it for her, helping ease some pressure off his shoulders.”

“That’s really thoughtful of you.” Mirio admired everything about you. He was absolutely smitten with you ever since you started working in the perfume department. Mirio sometimes strolled through the floor during his breaks just to catch a glimpse of you. After scrolling through the computer, the blonde man frowned. “Hmm…looks like we’re out of stock. And the next shipment won’t come until the twenty-first.”

You groaned. “Man, that’s cutting it close; you think you can hold one for me? I can buy it during my break or after work.”

“I’ll try my best.”

“Thanks, Mirio.” You squeezed his shoulder, and he shuddered at the touch. Glancing at your watch, you said, “I gotta go before Nemuri wonders where I am. But thanks for helping out!”

“Sure!” He saw you slip out the door in a hurry; you throw an apologetic smile for good measure. Pushing the elf hat further up, Mirio chuckled, “No problem.”

༛༛ ༛ ༛༺༻༛ ༛ ༛༛

Okay, so maybe there was a slight problem.

Santa Claus was still around town, and Mirio was placed on “elf duty” to help out with the pictures. Don’t get him wrong, the sunshine man adored children as much as the jolly old man who lived in the North Pole. However, Mirio realized he couldn’t guard the Hippity Hop Cat for you. All he could do was pray that one miraculously stayed on the shelf until you bought it.

A flash went off, snapping Mirio back to his job. He smiled brightly, guiding the kid off Santa’s lap and ushering the next one to the chair. Nearly every parent in Japan was here today, the line looping around the store. Other customers, not visiting Santa, shopped as well, making the place extra crowded today. Yet, none of them were you, and that worried Mirio.

“Ho, ho, ho, it was nice meeting you, sweetie!”

Oh right! Mirio needed to focus, but it was hard knowing you weren’t here yet. All Mirio wanted to do was make people happy, especially you. After the sweet story you shared with him, he was more determined than ever to get you that toy. His blue eyes glanced at the bearded man in the red coat—could he help? Who knows.

As Mirio waved goodbye to each kid, you stumbled off the escalator, face flushed as though you ran fifty flights of stairs. You glanced around the packed floor, dodging an airplane that whizzed by and brushing against the sea of customers to find Mirio. The blonde elf locked eyes with you and flashed a relieved grin; the grueling wait was over.

And so was his duty with Santa Claus, what luck! Mirio marched over to you, placing a gentle hand on your back and guiding you to the aisle. “I was worried you wouldn’t come.”

“I’m sorry,” you blurted out, narrowly avoiding getting hit by a robot’s arm. “The perfume department was swamped with tourists and other people. I practically had to beg Nemuri to let me slip away for a few minutes so I could buy—” Turning the corner, you gasped in disbelief at the empty shelves before choking out, “—the toy.”

Mirio blew a low whistle; people were snatching these toys off the shelves like no tomorrow. Still, he wouldn’t give up just yet. “C’mon, maybe there’s some left in stock.”

“You sure?”

“Can’t hurt to try, right?” Mirio flashed you a boyish smile, blue eyes brimming with determination. You nodded and followed him through the elaborate maze of this chaotic toy store.

However, just as you both passed by the cash register, someone bellowed out: “That’s the last Hippity Hop Cat, sir. Thank you for shopping at Toyland; have a nice day!”

No! You screeched to a halt. Your eyes watched as the man grabbed his bag and left the store with an exhausted but relieved face. Without thinking, you slammed against the counter, scaring the young green-haired employee who clutched his uniform. Leaning forward, you desperately half-whispered, “Please tell me what you said wasn’t true!”

“I-I’m sorry?”

“The toy!” You frantically gestured to the exit, the man now long gone. “Please tell me you have another Hippity Hop Cat for sale!”

“U-Um, I, uhh, well,” Midoriya stammered until his eyes spotted a familiar face behind you. The nervous man sighed in relief, knowing he was saved. “Mirio!”

“Hey, Izuku, sorry about that,” Mirio bashfully chuckled and clasped your shoulder to calm you down. The blonde man quickly introduced you to his co-worker, adding, “They’re trying to buy the Hippity Hop Cat, but are you sure that was the last one in stock?”

“Yeah, it was. I’m sorry.”

“Oh…oh, okay…” Your shoulders drooped like a sad puppy; you were too late. After saying a quick apology, you numbly dragged your feet toward the exit as a gray cloud formed over your head. A warm hand stopped you from going any further, and you blinked up. “Huh, Mirio, what’s wrong?”

“You alright?”

“Oh, yeah, yeah,” you dismissed his concerns, but he wasn’t convinced; your eyes told a different story. Still, you mustered a brave face with a faint smile. “Listen, I appreciate everything you did. I knew it was a longshot getting the toy, so don’t sweat it, really.”

“I know, I just,” he sucked in a breath, “I just wished I could have helped you out more. Especially since you wanted to make Eri happy.”

“Don’t worry, I’ll get her something else.” You squeezed his bicep when Mirio opened his mouth to interject; he faltered slightly at the brief touch. “It’s fine, really. I’m sure Eri will love any toy for her gift; I promise.”

Mirio nodded, watching you leave the store and disappearing within the crowd. You said everything was fine, but he knew that wasn’t true. That fake smile of yours spoke volumes. There has to be a way to get that toy, Mirio pondered, rubbing his chin and staring at the floor with furrowed eyes.

Suddenly, an idea popped inside his head just as a jingle bell chimed behind him. A white smile stretched across Mirio’s face. The idea was crazy, maybe a longshot, too, but it wouldn’t hurt to try. Mirio whipped out his phone and searched through his contacts until he landed on a specific name.

The line started ringing...and ringing...and ringing when—

“H-Hi, Mirio.”

“Hey, Tamaki!” The blonde man beamed like the sun. He lowered his voice, cupping the phone for secrecy while walking away. “Listen, buddy. I know you’re busy and all, but I got a huge favor to ask…”

༛༛ ༛ ༛༺༻༛ ༛ ༛༛

“…you think you can do it?” A small puff of breath floated out of your lips as you stepped away from the revolving doors. You stood beside a colorful window display of tiny elves grinning from ear to ear, their eager hands holding toys for the good boys and girls. One elf balanced himself at the tippy top of Santa’s mountainous red bag, his green gloves clutching the pointy hat for dear life.

You smiled, appreciating the creative design before saying, “I can close the following week...yeah...okay, awesome, thanks again!”

Crisis one averted. Crisis two was up for debate, mainly because you held a shopping bag with Eri’s gift. It wasn’t the Hippity Hop Cat, but a nice small plushy cat toy instead. You bought it just a few minutes ago after wandering through the aisles at Toyland. The plushy cat toy wasn’t a bad second choice; it was adorable and incredibly soft to the touch. But it wasn’t the toy you wanted to give for Eri’s first Christmas.

Oh, well, you sadly thought, biting the inside of your cheek. You stared at the elves again, realizing that their costumes matched Mirio’s work uniform in Toyland, down to the funny little hat. Mirio somehow pulled it off well thanks to his bubbly personality and warm heart that could melt the North Pole's snow.

At one point, you wondered if Mirio was even there since you didn’t see him at the store today. You assumed he was doing inventory, but Midoriya said Mirio took the day off after a last-minute “personal obligation” came up, and it was too important to ignore. Must have been serious, you sighed as the shopping bag rustled against the wind.

You braced your coat, hissing as the cold air sliced across your cheeks. Yup, it was time to go unless you wanted to freeze out here. Shuffling away from the window display, you stopped when someone screamed your name. Glancing over, you saw Mirio running toward you with one arm waving high in the air.

“Hey!” Mirio finally caught up to you, his face flushed and nose redder than Rudolph’s, yet he kept on smiling. “So glad I found you!”

“Whoa, you alright?” Now it was your turn to be concerned, just like he was when you rushed into the store to ask about the Hippity Hop Cat toy. Mirio nodded enthusiastically, squashing your worries away. “Midoriya said you were busy with a ‘personal obligation’ today. Is everything okay?”

“Oh yeah, everything is great!”

“Well, that’s, um, great.”

“So, listen, about the Hippity Hop Cat toy—”

“Mirio, I told you not to worry about it,” you butted in, shaking your shopping bag with the plushy cat. “I went ahead and bought something else for Eri and—”

“Ta-da!”

You went radio silent, staring in disbelief at the surprise. Sitting in Mirio’s hands was the one and only Hippity Hop Cat toy. The number one toy that was on every kid’s wish list, yet rarer to get than Willy Wonka’s Golden ticket. That toy was now only a few inches away from you.

“B-But how?!” The words finally fumbled through your lips, flickering your gaze between the toy and Mirio while stumbling forward a bit. “It’s sold out everywhere!”

“Let’s just say I pulled some strings with Santa’s workshop,” Mirio cheekily grinned like one of the elves from the window display. You choked out a laugh, dropping the shopping bag so you could hold the boxed toy; it felt wonderful in your hands.

You looked up with eyes softer than freshly fallen snow. Mirio continued talking up a storm, his arms flailing wildly like an excited kid who discovered something new. The delicate holiday lights flickered around you both, casting a lovely glow that was as bright as the joy twinkling inside Mirio’s eyes.

They were always so welcoming that, without thinking, you gave him a crushing hug. Mirio froze, his arms hanging mid-air as he slowly processed what was happening. After a few seconds, his shoulders relaxed, and his strong arms eagerly wrapped around you, holding you in place. Even with that thick coat of yours, you felt very soft that his heart soared to new heights.

“Thank you, Mirio,” you whispered near his ear, giving him another squeeze. But you didn’t stop there. A sudden urge came over you, and in a bold move, you planted a sweet kiss on his cheek. Pulling away, you bit back a laugh at his flustered face. “You really are the best Helpful Elf I know.”

“Well, you know me,” he shot you a grin, “I’m always here to help.”

“Is that so?” You tapped your cheek with your gloved finger. “Think you can help me gift wrap this toy, say tonight at my place?”

“Luckily for you, I’m a whiz with wrapping paper.”

Mirio’s hand wormed its way into yours, giving you a loving squeeze before joining you on your long walk home. The Hippity Hop Cat toy was the toy on every kid’s wish list this year, including Eri’s, whose first Christmas was officially saved. And it was all thanks to Mirio, the one and only Helpful Elf at Hazuki’s Toyland.

Thank you for reading!!

FicMas Fest 2020 Masterlist

#mirio togata x reader #mirio x reader #bnha x reader #bnha imagines #mirio togata #bnha server collab #winter collab

78 notes · View notes

spencerreidscoffeecup · 3 years

Text

People Pleaser (sub!spencer)

CW: penetrative sex, face-sitting (kind of), oral sex (female recieving), choking k!nk, hate-fuck, semi-public sex, degredation, heavy petting, teasing, begging, dub-con

AN: hey guys! I hope you enjoy this one shot! I MAY post pt two to drunk words are sober thoughts, but I honestly am not sure.. Anyway, I imagined seasons 1-4 reid for this one shot. I imagined the reader to be around 24 and spencer to be 24 as well so I know that technically y/n couldn't have taken over Hotch's spot, but for the sake of this story, she did lol. enjoy <3

(season 4 cast, but hotch is out of the bau)

Reader's POV:

Working as the head unit chief of the BAU was a dream.

I mean, I loved the work, although upsetting because of the cases, I was passionate about it.

I loved solving the cases and helping people.

And I loved-no, I adored the team.

Well, most of the team.

Doctor Spencer Reid had had a problem with me since day one.

He was... difficult to work with.

I was told that he was bitter towards me because I took the position of Agent Aaron Hotchner, however, that still didn't excuse the cold shoulder he'd give me each day. It wasn't my fault Agent Hotchner had left, but it was probably easier for Spencer to blame his absence on me.

Also, it's not like I hated him, because truthfully, I took a great liking to the young doctor. However, when he would roll his eyes at me whenever I spoke, a great ball of rage would burn in the depths of my stomach. I hated that he was disrespectful to me. I hated that he hated me. And most importantly, I hated that I didn't stand up for myself.

I guess you could say I was a people pleaser, as I tried every way I could to get him to like me, however, nothing seemed to work. I mean, I tried sparking up a conversation about things he was interested in, showing him that he and I had common interests, but instead, he would give me a slight condescending look. And if I thought his subtle disdain he had for me was enough to pissed me off, his look of being better than me made my fists ball and my jaw clench.

He was cocky.

Too cocky.

And he needed to be put in his place.

So one late night at the BAU, when everyone in the building had left, I was still working hard on the excessive amounts of paperwork that piled up on my desk. However, around midnight I started to become drowsy, my eyelids feeling as though they were weighted. Yawning, I stood up from my desk, heading out to the bullpen to snag another cup of coffee. Upon opening my office door, I saw Spencer, hunched over his desk, his nose buried in a book as his fingers traced down the column of the page he was reading, his eyes flicking from line to line as he flipped through each page.

I found the doctor to be a very interesting person in all honesty. I mean, his IQ was through the roof, he could read extremely fast and still had the ability of processing the information that was given to him, and he held a record amount of BA's and PhD's. I had never met anyone like him.

"Hey, Reid," I greeted, slightly surprised by how late he decided to stay here. Grabbing a mug from the cabinet above the coffee machine, I turned my head to look at him. "What are you doing here so late?"

Spencer glanced up from his book, looking at me, before pushing his glasses farther up the bridge of his nose. "I was just doing paperwork. However, I decided to take a quick break," he responded, looking back down at his book with pure boredom. After flipping through three pages that took him about 2 seconds to read, he sat his book down, swiveling his chair back around to face his desk.

"Don't worry, I'm starting on it now." he grumbled, picking his pen up and beginning to scratch down information on the excessive amounts of papers that lie in a pile in front of him.

By now, I had finished making my coffee, so I made my way over to him, sitting on the corner of his desk, crossing my legs.

I would like to think I was trying to get on his good side, I mean, I had this weird obsession with trying to get him to take a liking to me, however I believe that I was doing one of the main things I did best besides my job: procrastinating.

Spencer looked up at me, his eyebrows raised in slight confusion.

"What are you doing?" he asked.

"Taking my own personal break from my paperwork." I answered, shrugging nonchalantly.

"Well can you do it somewhere else? I'm trying to work."

I rolled my eyes, placing my mug down on the edge of his desk.

It was quiet between us.

Tense.

Still, I sat on the edge of his desk, my legs crossed over one another as I leaned back on my hands that were placed behind me.

Sighing in a very dramatic way, Spencer looked up at me; obviously piqued by my presence. His face remained relatively stoic, however, his cheeks were kissed with a slight blush as I leaned my body forward to take a better look at him.

"You know, I think you should get an office." I remarked, taking a sip of my coffee. I felt his eyes on me as I swallowed the warm liquid.

"I don't mind working in the bullpen. An office creates opportunities for secrecy."

I raised my eyebrows, laughing softly. "What, do you think I keep secrets from you and the rest of the team?"

"It's a natural default to having a seperate room from the rest of us. You know what goes on with us when we're here, but we have no clue what goes on with you when you're here behind your office doors." he shrugged, adjusting his frames that sat so perfectly on his nose.

"Well I can assure you, Doctor Reid, I am not an advocate for secrets. Sure, I think some things are healthy to keep to yourself, but hiding things from others that could ultimately lead to negative consequences? Definitely not healthy." I hoped to match his elusive energy. I wanted to beat him at something other than the hierarchy of this job position.

Spencer turned to look at me, scooting his chair in front of my body.

"Everybody has secrets."

Surprisingly, his eyes stayed locked with mine, as though he were searching for something inside of them. His aloofness slightly melted as though it were a facade he'd created, and I was finally able to look at him with a new point of view.

Spencer was taciturn when it came to his personal life. There were many things I didn't know about him, and many things he didn't know about me. This realization made me yearn to learn more about him.

However, I stuck with our previous conversation about him getting his own space.

"I still think you should get your own office," I began, but Spencer gave me an accusing look. I sighed. "However, judging by your expression you probably think I'm only offering you your own space as a means to finally make you stop hating me."

"I hope not," Spencer droned back, seemingly bored and slightly bitter. "My loyalty cannot be bought."

Ha, doubtful.

"It's not about the money, Spencer," I purred, pulling his red, silk tie to me as I tangled it between my fingers, Spencer clearing his throat nervously as he watched me intently. Regardless of how much I breached his personal space, he remained relatively calm; only getting a little slightly pink in the face, his knee bouncing up and down. I continued, "It's about security. Comfortability. Authority."

Spencer's apathetic demeanor was shattered by a low laugh. "Authority?" he asked sarcastically, "You think you possess authority?"

"I do." I stated simply, Spencer still laughing at the idea of me being in charge of something.

I didn't see what was so funny.

None of this was even the slightest bit humorous to me.

I was the one who kept the BAU afloat when it came to managing the team.

Anger bubbled in my gut.

His tie was still tangled between my fingers as I ran my fingers up the silk, tugging on it harshly, eliciting a slight choking sound from Spencer. I pulled him close to my face with his tie, his wry laughs stopping immediately as we were inches apart.

"I hold more authority than you do, Doctor Reid. I may be different from your 'daddy', Aaron Hotchner, but I still demand respect. So you give it to me, or you get out.. Understand?" Spencer gulped, nodding fervently, his pupils dilating as I flashed him a sweet smile. "Good boy. Now, finish your paperwork and come get me when you're done." I see his face get red, his eyes glancing down at my lips then back up to my eyes.

I let go of his tie, standing up and beginning to walk away before Spencer made another comment.

Y-you know, it'd be nice to get some respect from you."

I laughed sardonically, turning back around to face him.

"Oh, you want my respect now? Respect is something that needs to be reciprocated and as far as I can tell, I've tried my best to respect you. I just won't be nice to someone who isn't nice to me no matter the circumstance." Crossing my arms in front of my chest defensively, I stalk over to Spencer, who is now redder than a tomato.

"I-I'm just saying that you were the one who--who started all of this. This quarrel between you and me."

Is he fucking kidding me right now?

"I'm the one who started this? Spencer, I'm the one who walked in here with a positive attitude, excited to meet you all.. You're the one who was- and still is- upset that Hotch left. I'm just an easy blame for your daddy issues." I huff, feeling my blood boil in my body.

How dare he blame me for all of this?

He was quiet for a moment, his hand gripping his pen tightly.

Once again, as I was completely sick of this bullshit (and had lost my remaining patience), Spencer said one more thing that really got on my nerves.

"I think that it would be best if we both apologized to one another."

Sorry?

Did I hear him correctly?

He wants me to apologize to him?

What the fuck did I even do?

The answer: nothing.

I tried my best to be nice to him.

And he ruined it in the end.

These thoughts swarmed my mind like hornets flying around one another when someone sprays their nest with chemicals.

I walked over to him, bending down to look at him as Spencer tried his best to keep his eyes on me and not.. Wander off.

"You want me to apologize to you?"

Spencer nodded slowly, his golden irises flashing with a certain look I couldn't quite decipher.

I looked at him a little bit longer, realizing that he was completely serious about this.

Fine.

He wanted an apology? An apology he'll get.

Slowly, I dropped down to my knees, my gaze still fixed on his face; Spencer's eyes growing wide.

"Oh, Doctor Reid. Please forgive me!" I begged dramatically, clasping my hands together in front of my chest. "You are so correct, even though you view me as an abhorrent being, I give you all of my respect and apologizes."

"Y-Y/n, I-I didn't mean it like that." he said flusteredly, his hands balled into fists that sat on his thighs, grasping the fabric of his slacks tightly.

"Oh, but didn't you? Don't you want someone to get on their knees in front of you and beg for your forgiveness? Don't you crave that kind of power? You know, the kind of power you don't get on a normal basis?" I asked, dragging a hand softly up the back of his calf, Spencer's hand immediately shooting to cover his crotch.

"N-no, I-I just-"

"What, Doctor Reid? You just, what?" I interrupted, a mocking pout crawling over my lips.

The sexual tension in the room was palpable. I could practically feel the hateful lust that was omitted from our bodies.

Now, dragging my hand up his thigh, Spencer's eyes watched my hand attentively, his breathing getting shaky.

"I-I just, you know- want someone to- well I-I'm not sure." he stuttered nervously, whimpering softly as I uncovered his hands from his evidently large bulge that tented in his tan slacks.

I dragged my other hand softly up his thigh, all the way to his crotch as he gripped the arm rests of the seat, his knuckles turning white as I slowly dragged my hand across his clothed dick.

I felt like a girl possessed, my mind no longer held the ability to control my body.

"You know what I think, Spencer? I think that you're the one that wants to get on their knees in front of someone. I think you would like it, wouldn't you?" I asked, beginning to massage him through his pants.

Spencer was quiet, his breath hitching in his throat as he tilted his head back; his mouth agape as I began rubbing my hand harder against him. He bucked his hips lightly as I continued to massage him through his slacks.

I began to grow impatient, wanting an answer from him right away. Although I knew what the answer would be, I loved watching how beautiful he looked when he became enraptured by my touch.

I let go of his crotch, tugging his tie down so he looked at me fully. He whimpered softly, Spencer's glasses drooping slightly on his nose.

"When I speak to you, you answer me." I snapped, wrapping his tie around my fingers as I did earlier.

"I-I'm sorry miss. T-to answer your question: Yes. You-you're right." his voice came out an octave higher than normal, which made my stomach flutter.

Our lips were centimeters apart from one another as Spencer leaned in, trying his best to initiate the kiss before I took charge. In an instant, I tugged him closer to me, eliciting a small whine to slip past his lips as we kissed one another with so much passion. Anger that had been rising between us fueld this kiss, our lips meeting together feverishly, our tongues beginning to massage against each other as I mindlessly stood up from my kneeling position, climbing onto Spencer's lap and straddling him as he groaned lightly into my mouth. I tugged on the hair from the back of his head, Spencer whimpering in response as he pushed my ass farther down on his lap, his hand gripping my thigh, his other hand wrapped around my body to hold my waist tightly.

I began to rock against him, my clit throbbing for attention as small mewls escaped my throat and passed into his mouth, Spencer's small whines and whimpers vibrating against my lips.

As I rocked faster on him, my lips still smashed against his in a fervent manner, he reluctantly pulled away, grunting.

"S-stop doing that," he groaned, my clothed core rubbing against his tented slacks.

"Stop doing what, Doctor Reid?" I asked, kissing his neck, sucking on his skin lightly; sure to leave marks.

"S-stop rubbing y-yourself against me or else I-I'm gonna- or else I'm gonna cum." he whimpered, digging his fingers harshly into my thigh.

"You're right.. I don't want to make you cum until you make me finish first." I said, kissing his lips softly.

I pulled away, glancing down at his lips which were now red and swollen.

God, he was so cute.

"B-but what about the security cameras?" he asked.

I pondered his question before getting up from his lap with shaky legs, grabbing his tie and yanking him behind me as though he were a dog on a leash. "Follow me."

We walked quickly into my office, and I shut the office door with my foot, my lips instantly finding their way back to his.

He bumped into my desk as we kissed, his lips chasing mine as I whirled him around, sitting myself on the top of my desk as I pulled him close to me again.

Reid quickly unbuttoned part of my shirt, sucking on the tops of my breasts as I threw my head back.

"Spencer," I said breathlessly, combing my fingers through his hair. "Get on your knees."

Spencer scrambled down to get on his knees in front of me, his hair unkempt as I combed my fingers through it. I brought his hands up to the hem line of my skirt, allowing him to hike the material up my hips. He eagerly brought a hand to my clothed pussy, his tongue poking out of the corner of his mouth as he drew lazy circles on my clit as my hips rocked against his hand.

He surprised me by slowly pulling my panties down to my ankles, my black heels stopping them from falling to the floor. Sucking up my thigh, he bit the soft skin as I tugged on his hair.

Spencer licked his swollen lips as he looked at my arousal, his eyes wide and greedy.

"Go ahead, Doctor Reid," I prompted him to dip his head under the remaining portion of my skirt, his tongue licking a flat strip up my core as I cried out, my fingers still intertwined in his hair. He began grasping onto my thighs, shifting closer to me as he still stayed on his knees, humming against my cunt. "Sometimes you just need to- ah!- Sometimes you just need to shut the fuck up." I growled, my chest heaving as Spencer's tongue circled around my clit, then thrusted in and out of me as obscenities flew from my mouth.

I felt my orgasm already building in the bottom of my belly as I grasped onto Spencer's hair harder, making him grunt against me which made me begin to teeter off of the edge of release. I could feel the cold lenses of his glasses pressed against my warm thigh as he ate me out, my moans echoing throughout my office.

"Good boy, keep going." I moaned, my mouth opened slightly as I began to grind my hips on his mouth. Spencer spread my legs open wider, his hand crawling up the top of my thigh to my breast as he squeezed it, his hand flexing, causing the veins to become more prominent.

In a matter of seconds, I fell into a sea of euphoria as I came on Spencer's face. He used his tongue to lap up the excess arousal, his mouth still sucking on me even after I had ridden my high out. I pulled him up by his hair, the sight in front of me enough to make me cum again.

There the young doctor stood, his eyes looking into mine for approval. My arousal, which had been mixed with his spit, dripped down his red, swollen lips, dribbling to his chin as he breathed heavily. I crashed my lips with his as I pushed him onto the chair in front of my desk, straddling his thighs.

Quickly, he reached between us and undid his belt, then his pants as I pushed his boxers down to relieve his length which lightly tapped his lower belly. My heart skipped a beat at the sight of it as I swiped my thumb over the tip, his dick leaking with precum.

I began to massage him, biting my lip softly as I gauged his reactions.

"P-please, Y/n," he begged, small groans falling past his lips. "P-please, fuck me."

"I don't know, I don't think you want it that badly quite yet." I said, grinding my hips on his thigh, the friction causing my pussy to clench around nothing.

He whimpered, gripping onto my waist firmly. "Please, I-I want it so bad. I n-need it."

I raised my eyebrows, grinding my hips faster on him as my core throbbed. "You need it?"

Spencer looked at me through a half-lidded gaze, nodding his head feverishly as I stroked him faster. "Y-yes, please! I need it so bad."

I would've dragged it out to be an even longer, torturous process, but the truth was that I was getting needy too.

So, I lifted my hips up, rubbing his tip against my core before sinking down on him.

Moans slipped past Spencer's lips as I began to bounce on him, my own sounds escaping my throat.

"Fuck," I whined, secretly thanking myself for wearing a skirt today. "I knew you'd like this, I knew you'd like begging for me.. Did you like it, Doctor Reid?" I asked, slamming myself back down on his cock.

"Y-Yes, ma'am," he gasped, leaning his forehead on my shoulder as he watched himself go in and out of me. "I-I loved it so much."

A small smile crossed my face as I pulled his head back, wrapping my hands around his throat as he choked lightly.

"Ugh!" I groaned, squeezing the sides of his throat gently as he bucked his hips upwards inside of me, hitting my sweet spot repeatedly. "You're such a little bitch, you know that?" I asked, laughing softly as my eyebrows drew together in pleasure.

Spencer looked at me through his slightly closed eyes, his mouth agape as I leaned forward, his hips thrusting more rapidly into mine as he hit every perfect spot inside of me, my orgasm building in my lower belly once more.

"Answer me." demanded, Spencer sucking his bottom lip momentarily before answering.

"Y-yes, miss. I-I'm a bitch." he gasped, his dick twitching inside of me.

My thighs began to burn as my bouncing became rapid, more uncontrollable moans seeping past my lips, Spencer whimpering and crying out every so often.

"Fuck, miss.. I'm gonna cum." Spencer sobbed, crying out more when I pressed my front against his, tugging his hair back.

"Hold on, I'm almost there." I breathed, feeling my orgasm overflow in my belly like a rain barrel. The euphoria I felt wracked through my belly as my cunt continuously clenched around Spencer's cock, him immediately cumming right after me.

Our bodies trembled and shook as I slowed my bouncing down on him, his hips thrashing upwards every once in a while that completely milked my orgasm to last longer.

"Fuck." he grunted, still gripping my hips with his hands as he held me down, emptying the rest of himself inside of me.

As we both came down from our highs, Spencer kissed my shoulder, biting on it gently which made me squeal.

It was quiet for a moment--not awkward, not tense, just quiet and.. Calm.

Finally we each caugh our breaths, my hand still woven between his now extremely messy (but extremely charming) hair.

"So my own space in the office, huh?" he asked as I began to redress, Spencer following along with me.

A small laugh broke from my throat as I stated sarcastically, "What convinced you?"

AN: hey guys!

lowkey hate this but tell me if you guys liked it!!

i hoped you all enjoyed and more stuff to come soon!!

#spencerreid #spencerreidxreader #fanfic #wattpad #criminalminds

61 notes · View notes

amayawolfe · 3 years

Text

Congratulations on 100 followers! Can I request “You have no idea how to make toast?!” , said by Illumi? Or if you think it’ll be better if Chrollo said this, you can write it that way. Chrollo, Illumi, and Hisoka live in the same dorm room at the University of York New City. Chrollo was startled because Hisoka was trying to make toast , carelessly let it toast for too long, and nearly caught on fire. Hopefully that makes sense, lol.

requested by: shirophantomvox

Prompt Sentence: (will appear in bold)

#9 “You have no idea how to make toast?!”

Thank you so much once again for your participation in my 100 followers event! I hope you like what I came up with for your request! Can’t remember if I said this before but I’ve never done a school au before so coming up with the setting was fresh and fun! Enjoy!

~ ~ ~

All was relatively quiet on the University of York New City campus. The dark, mainly empty streets emitted a mild eeriness in the dead of night as the usual night owls and party goers were noticeably vacant. Tucked away in their rooms for some much needed extra rest or burning away the midnight oil at their desks, all done in preparation for the ever dreaded and rapidly approaching finals.

Even the ever popular Chrollo Lucilfer was holed away in his dorm room, pouring over his vast collection of texts and carefully taken notes. The faint rasp of graphite on note paper was barely audible over the soothing, yet motivational symphony of Mozart playing in the background. The music was not only to aid in his studies, but to help muffle out any excess sound that might disturb his sleeping dorm mate who was buried beneath a mountain of blankets in one of the lower bunks.

The young man paused in his work and glanced at the clock, nearly 2am.

“I suppose I should wrap this up for the night,” he muttered quietly to himself.

Chrollo set down his pencil and stretched in his seat. Due to sitting in one position for so long, his neck, shoulders, and spine all crackled and popped like shipping bubble wrap. He took in a deep breath through his nose in preparation to lose a groan along with his stretch; but instead, he froze with a look of perplexity spreading across his face..

Sniffing the air a little more carefully, he straightened up in his seat and turned towards the room door that let out into the hallway.

Is something. . . burning?

As though the gods were listening, the sudden shrill sound of one of the dorm's fire detectors started blaring throughout the shared living quarters. Chrollo jumped at first, then scrambled to his feet to make a mad dash out of his room. He had to find what was going on and solve the matter before the rest of the alarms were triggered throughout the building.

From the corner of his eye, Chrollo saw his dorm mate, Illumi, jolt awake so hard he nearly smacked his head on the bunk above him. He was trying to untangle himself from the combination of blankets and waist long hair by the time Chrollo was out the door.

Chrollo noticed the haze of smoke now lingering in the air during his rapid approach to the kitchen. Having excited the hallway and rounded the corner, he found a somewhat amusing, yet very concerning, site.

His second dorm mate, Hisoka, was frantically fanning something inside the microwave with a dish towel. Whatever it was, it looked as though it could possibly be on fire as smoke was continuously emitting in concerning volumes.

Before Chrollo had a chance to respond, Illumi rushed past and shoved Hisoka aside while snagging the dish towel from the red-head’s hands. Using the towel as a mitt, Illumi grabbed the microwave’s rotating plate and removed it.

Sure enough, there was something small and black sitting on the glass plate which had a few dancing flames atop it. Illumi didn’t stop, he quickly set the glass tray in the sink, fetched a large pot lid, and placed it over the burning object. Before any of them could blink, the fire was snuffed out.

Chrollo was next in action. Eyes locked on the screeching fire detector above, he gracefully climbed up onto the counter top. As soon as he stood, Chrollo reached up and held the reset button long enough to silence the alarm.

His body relaxed somewhat and he let out a content sigh when silence suddenly enveloped the household. Dropping his hand, he glared down at Hisoka who had just finished opening all the windows to let out the smoke.

“Just what in Heaven’s name were you doing, Hisoka?” the shorter man scolded as he climbed down off the counter.

“You could have set the dorms ablaze,” Illumi added in his usual monotone voice. His large, dark eyes stared intently at the contents under the pot lid, head slightly tilted to one side.

Hisoka scowled then shrugged his broad shoulders, “I was a little hungry. ♠ So I thought some buttered toast would make a good snack. ♣”

“Wait, you were trying to make toast in the microwave?” Chrollo questioned, confusion coloring his tone.

“Well, yes~ ♡” Hisoka shrugged again and then smirked, “I just put some butter on bread, tossed it into the microwave and set it for a few minutes. I suppose seven minutes was too long, though.~ ♠”

Silence overtook the kitchen once more as Illumi and Chrollo stared at Hisoka in slacked jawed disbelief. The red head looked back and forth between his dorm mates and the smirk slowly faded from his face.

“What? ♣” he questioned with a hand on his hip.

The two blinked in unison and exchanged looks.

“You have no idea how to make toast?!” they both questioned at once.

Hisoka jumped a bit at the response in stereo. He then narrowed his eyes and crossed his arms over his muscled chest.

“Sure I do, I just set the timer too long is all. ♠”

“Hisoka, you don’t make toast in a microwave,” Illumi said plainly. Chrollo pinched the bridge of his nose and shook his head.

“Oh~?” Hisoka raised an eyebrow and a smirk returned to his lips. “And you know how to make toast? I figured you had your butlers do all the food prep and cooking for you. ♢”

Illumi stiffened at the red head’s words and pressed his lips tight. Without another word he spun back around, facing the counter. He swiftly removed a slice of bread from it’s bag, closed it properly as Hisoka had left it open, and loaded the bread into the toaster that was in plain view. Adjusting the dial to his preferred level of bread toastiness, Illumi then firmly pressed down the toaster lever and the bread disappeared into the machine. Within moments, a warm orange glow began to illuminate from the toaster’s slots.

At this, Illumi faced Hisoka and sharply gestured towards the toaster as it did its job.

“That, Hisoka, is how you make toast,” he stated with a cold edge resonating in his voice.

Hisoka’s eyebrows had crawled up his forehead to the point of nearly reaching his hairline. His gaze shifted from the toaster to his long haired dorm mate.

“And the butter? ♣”

“You put that on after the bread pops back out of the toaster,” Chrollo sighed.

There was a moment of silence as Hisoka looked between Chrollo, Illumi, and the toaster. He then blinked, smirked, and shrugged his shoulders.

“Well,” Hisoka chuckled, “I guess that makes sense.~ ♡”

18 notes · View notes

ldyinblckmsk · 4 years

Text

Always the extra, never the lead

Pairing: Bakugou Katsuki x F! Reader

Genre: Angst

Words: 1.8k

A/N: Hey, guys! I'm back hoho serving another angst (if you squint your eyes lol). I hope I broke your heart or makes you feel pain or sad coz that's what i wanna make you feel while you read my piece oftrash. This plot is plaguing mah mind. Also, the title sucks lolololol I can't think of anything argh!

Enjoy :)

It's funny how people cheer themselves up by thinking that they are the main character of their own story. You think that it's ridiculous to give themselves a fake hope while the fact that the cycle of their story doesn't change anything. They'll never be the protagonist, no matter how hard they try to be one.

That's why you gave up, right. You settle yourself to be just a bystander, watching the main roles act their piece under the big spotlight. Watching the man you love entranced by the stare of the girl he likes. See, it's not you. Because, after all, as much as you wanted to be the Cinderella or Snow White or any other damnsel in distress, he'll never be the prince that will save you. You're just an extra.

Confess your profounding love to him? You already thought of it and considering the consequences of it, you're just a coward who didn't want to jeopardize the only relationship you had with him. You're fine with being his bestfriend. At least, you still have an excuse to be at his house until midnight just hanging out with him. You can still wear his hoodies and imagine yourself acting like how the other girls did to their significant other.

That until she came.

He spent less time hanging out with you. He rarely even talks to you and ask if you're still breathing. As if all of a sudden, every memories you spent with him vanished like a bubble when the narrator introduced his leading lady. Of course, you were jealous, infuriating to be honest, she stole your man, the ash blond you were crushing since you laid your eyes on him. And the thing that makes you go insane is the fact that you don't have the right to be angry because he's not yours to claim.

The only thing you can do is sit there and let yourself drown in pain. Pretend that you're fine with the set-up and act normal. You didn't want to mess up the play, don't you?

Fine, my ass. You're not a masochist.

They're still not together, that means she's not his either. They're still at the phase of knowing each other, so you still have a chance to confess. There's no way that they already fall in love with each other that fast.

Here you are in his room, laying comfortably on the silky sheets of his bed, staring at the ceiling. You just invite yourself to his house.

"Hey, dumbass! Are you even listening to me?" His voice snapped you out of trance. "I'm sorry. I got a lil dizzy for a sec. What were you saying?"

"You alright?" The hint of concern on his voice didn't go unnoticed by you and you just cherish this moment that way you always do. Your breath hitched when you felt his cold hands touch your forehead, his other hand on his comparing your temperature. The small act of friendship makes your blood rush to your cheeks.

"Geez. I'm fine, Katsu." You rolled your eyes at him, swatting his hand away. As much as you want to prolong the skinship, you didn't want to make yourself become a flustered mess. "Now, what were you saying?" You propped your head with both hands under your chin, as you roll on his bed now laying flat on your stomach.

"I said are you coming with me this Friday night. We're just going to eat." You looked at him suspiciously. For a second, your heart triumphs.

"Wow, you already want to see me again."

"Tch. Just say yes or no, idiot." You chuckled at his scowling face. "Just admit that you missed me, grumpy-chan."

"You're a pain in the ass."

And just like that, you didn't have any decent to sleep as you were so excited for Friday to roll. Whatever plan he has, you can't help but to think that it's like he's asking you to go out with him. Ignoring the second line he said, you let yourself dive in fantasy.

It's Thursday and you're still conflicted on what to wear, you asked for help of your friends. Surprisingly, they agreed to help you right away without raising their brows and questioning you about the date with the 'mystery man'. 'Cause they already know who it was, just from how eager you look.

Your love for the blond isn't news to them. Being classmates and friends for almost three years, they already knew how your mind works though they didn't really know how frenzy and complicated the wires in it. They just know the surface of it.

"How about this?" Mina showed you the haltered red dress that ends just above your knee. You decided on it right away which makes your friend shakes their head at your eagerness. After that, you're just casually having fun, giving you advices and tips on your so-called date from their experience.

You saw him leaning on his car, permanent scowl on his face while constantly checking his phone. You eyed him from your position, awe struck at the ravishing aura he oozes. The white dress shirt he's wearing highlights the muscle he workrd so hard to built. He looks so clean and sinful at the same time.

"There you are, grumpy-chan!" You walked towards him slowly, smacking his back as your usual greeting, smile plastered on your face with the hint of blush spreading on your cheeks. You watched him stunned for a while, eyes roaming to your body. "About fucking time. Let's go."

You were surprised when he opened the door for you but you just shake it off. He's gentle, seems like his careful with his actions.

He glanced at you for a moment before he went inside the car. His heart went wild when he saw you. He thought you looked prettier when you dressed up. He always saw you wearing baggy shirts that's why when you showed up with that tight dress he malfunctioned for a bit. You looked bold and sexy like a predator hunting its prey, quite opposite from the girl he's pining. He shakes the thoughts of you away as he began to drive.

Akiya is full of sunshine and rainbows. She's sweet and looks vulnerable like an antique dishware that needs to be taken care of. And he has the great urge to protect the quirkless girl. Funny, how he was so bully to Deku being quirkless and here he was falling for one.

He was so upset to himself when he found out his stupid affection to the girl. Their constant talking amd bubbly personality made it possible to like her. But everytime he's with her, his mind straying away to your well-being. He knew that you have feelings for him but he didn't dig further because you're not vocal about it. With how much his time was spent with you, he cared deeply for you. He loves you, of course, but it isn't like kind of love you felt for him.

After sorting out those endless thoughts, still, his adoration for Akira weighs more than your friendship.

That's why he's inviting you to dinner with him.

The anxiety is bubbling up inside you. The look on his face screams that there's something going on inside his head that you're not ready to unravel. Call it instinct but something feels odd. The ambience around you doesn't suit your guts. You're beyond happy that you're having a good time with him but there's this unsettling feeling that's eating your inside.

Is this what you think it is?

He's the one who initiates the conversation first, sensing the awkwardness in your table. Feeling blue, you just answered him with nods and short words. Clenching your jaw as you forced yourself to smile naturally. It's not really that difficult for you to do it since you are good at hiding.

The dinner was served and you just sat there, eating in silence. You don't dare move your eyes from your plate. You felt him checking on you for the nth time of the night then followed by a sigh.

You fucking knew it. Your grip on the knife was tight while slicing the tender beef. You're silently praying that you'll have the control of your emotions tonight. The night is still young but the 'date' is nearing to end.

"Y/n, just don't fucking talk and listen to me." His hand combing his spiky hair in frustration. He didn't know how to break it to you without hurting you. "What's with the serious talk, grumpy-chan? It's not like you, ya know." You laughed.

"I said I'll do the talking, idiot." You rolled your eyes at his remark."You know Akiya, right?"

"Uh, yeah, she's the girl you like, right." You said with an obvious tone in your voice, smiling, almost seemed like you're teasing him. Almost. Because the bitterness you felt left a hint on your voice.

Silence. No one dared to speak. Not because of your last statement. It seems like gods are not in the mood to heed your prayer as you desperately trying to stop the tears that you didn't know were already falling. You inhaled deeply, calming yourself down, slowly accepting your defeat.

You were the one that breaks the eerie silence. "So, you two are already together. Is that what were you going to say to me? Or is there anything el–"

Oh.

Realization strucks your chords. How can you be so fucking simpleton? A small laugh leaves your mouth while nodding your head crazily, new batch of tears forming in your eyes. He only watched you, confused.

"Oh my god! You fucking knew it. Am I right?"

"Y/n–"

"I'm a clown. You knew I love you yet–" You laughed again. People gaze at your direction, feeling pity at your state. You are mess right now.

"What the fuck are you talking about? Yes, I knew it. I knew your feelings but your my bestfriend for fuck's sake!" He raised his voice, bloodshot eyes lingering at your form.

As if like you flipped your switch, you looked at him with blank eyes, no emotions were found as you speak to him. "Is it entertaining? Is it funny to watch me make a fool of myself? Am I stroking your ego when I looked at you with fucking heart eyes huh, Bakugou? Tell me."

"That's why I'm fucking talking to you right now. I want you to stop it. I need you to stop loving me because I can't reciprocate it...I love Akiya."

"I know! Don't fucking rub it on my face. I know it. I already knew it! Okay? And yet here I am still fucking hoping that there's still a chance." You're desperately trying to sound fine, wishing for your voice not to crack. "I-I'm still fucking praying that I wish it's me. Why the hell it can't be me? Why, Katsuki?"

No, you're not going to break down in front of him. That will be last tears you'll shed. You shut your eyes tightly, regaining your control over your emotions. You didn't spare a glance at him, looking yourself at your mirror while retouching your make-up. You grabbed your phone, texting Mina to pick you up while you're talk to him. "Just so you know, I'm not going to cut ties with you. If that's what you're worried about. I'm still your friend, dropping the 'best'."

You looked up at him, eyes meeting his for the last time. You saw his pained expression, clenching his jaw when he looked away. You get up, ready to leave. "Another thing, next time when you reject someone don't do it over a fancy dinner. That just gives them a false hope and that's fucking painful." You chuckled.

Bitter smile plastered on your face, you prepare yourself for the conclusion of the story. Walking to his side, you bend to him while placing a kiss on his cheek, whispering your final dialogue as the side character.

"Goodbye, grumpy-chan."

#bnha x reader #bnha angst #bakugou x reader #katsuki x reader #bnha #mha bakugou #bnha bakugo x reader #bnha bakugō #bnha bakugo katsuki

254 notes · View notes

zeldan7 · 3 years

Text

Witches - Mammon Angst and Fluff

Pairing: Mammon x Seren (OC)

Warnings: Blood, Torture, Injuries, Self Doubt(?)

Word Count: 1600

So, it was finally happening. On the short walk back from R.A.D, when the pair were alone, Mammon had finally plucked up the courage. Saturday, at 3pm, he was taking Seren on a date. A proper date; just the two of them, alone, and no interrupting brothers. Seren tried to remain calm, but inwardly she was squealing. She’d been secretly wanting this for quite some time now, but she hadn’t dared to hope.

Things felt different for the rest of the week; the other brothers backed off flirting so much, and Seren found herself feeling closer to Mammon than usual. The other brothers also felt much more brotherly than normal: rather than constantly vying for her attention, they were much more supportive. She’d even managed to acquire Asmo as her personal stylist for the date.

Saturday finally rolled around after what felt like forever, and Seren was sat in Asmo's room watching him style her long, red hair in to an elegant updo. She had a horde of butterflies in her stomach, and her palms were sweating. Asmo put the finishing touches on her makeup before giving her the thumbs up, feeling proud of his work.

Mammon had asked Seren to meet him in the music room, so that’s where she headed after giving Asmo a huge ‘thank you’ hug and kiss on the cheek. Ten minutes passed, then twenty, and still no sign of Mammon. Seren couldn’t help but smile, she knew he’d be late. That smile soon faded after it had been an hour. She sighed and perched on the piano stool, lightly running her fingers over the keys. She refused to lose hope. He’d burst through that door any moment, stammering apologies and explaining that Lucifer had been lecturing him about a prank he’d been planning.

Another hour passed and Seren’s hope was waning. Had he stood her up? Did he decide he wasn’t interested anymore couldn’t bring himself to face her? Tears stung her eyes as her self-doubt clouded her thoughts. She hadn’t been good enough for him. What had she been thinking? A stupid human like her would never be good enough for a demon like him. He’d probably found a gorgeous woman actually worthy of him and was spending the day with her instead.

The tears finally fought their way past her lashes, and her fingers reached to the piano for comfort. Gently, she began to play a soft, sad, yet comforting melody. She was so absorbed in her music that she didn’t hear someone enter and sit near her. When her piece came to an end, she slowly looked up, and was surprised to lock eyes with someone.

“Lucifer…”

He sat with his head resting on his fist, clearly enthralled by the music. “That was beautiful, Seren,” he smiled. “But shouldn’t you be out with Mammon?”

Seren felt fresh tears as she shrugged dismissively. “He never turned up. I think he changed his mind,”

Lucifer’s face twisted into a strange mix of anger and confusion. “Come with me.” He commanded, and Seren knew better than to argue.

Together, the pair searched the House of Lamentation from top to bottom, finding no sign of the Avatar of Greed. Did he really run away just because he couldn’t face me? Seren couldn’t help but wonder. It seemed silly, but her thoughts were eating away at her.

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Lucifer snapped.

Seren yelped, not realising she’d allowed her thoughts to escape from her mouth. She felt pathetic, but the thoughts remained, no matter how hard she tried to force them out.

Eventually, Lucifer called a family meeting, asking everyone when they’d last seen Mammon, growing slightly concerned at the sudden disappearance. Everyone just shrugged, except Levi.

“I saw him leave the house this morning. He was all dressed up like he was going somewhere important LOL.”

Lucifer’s eyes widened. “Did he say where he was going?”

Levi shook his head. “Don’t think so, he was in a hurry, though.”

The older brother sighed. “There’s nothing we can do but wait. I trust he’ll be back in time, he never stays away long. My apologies, Seren.”

Seren offered a small, sad smile. “Thank you anyway,” she whispered before noiselessly returning to the music room.

She felt enchanted by this room, and she couldn’t tell whether it was magic, or just her heart longing to play her favourite instrument yet again. For a while, she sat in the window, watching the sun set and enjoying the company of objects that could produce such beautiful sounds if she so desired. She stayed there so long she even heard the brothers going to bed on their respective floors above and below her. After a few more moments, her feet mindlessly carried her back to the piano, where she began to play quietly. Tears flowed freely down her face as she thought about how excited she had been about today, and how silly she was to get her hopes up. She thought Mammon had been feeling the same, but she was obviously wrong.

Seren had no idea how long she’d been playing for (though the sky told her it must have ben around 3am) when she faintly heard the door open behind her. Presuming it was one of the brothers coming to offer her comfort, she began to play louder, in no mood to converse. The thought of someone watching her while she was in this state, so vulnerable, caused her throat to constrict with anxiety, forcing her to choke on sobs.

“Hey, hey!” She vaguely heard someone shouting, but continued to play even louder, desperate to drown them out. Her fingers were so painful from playing for such a long time, but she powered through it, Hell-bent on making the pain disappear through sheer willpower alone.

“Oi!”

That was enough to stop her dead, smashing a few incorrect notes in the process. She whirled around to stare at the white-haired figure, anger and sadness bubbling up inside of her. All her thoughts disappeared as soon as she saw the state he was in, however. His formal, black jacket was destroyed, only slithers of fabric clinging to his shaking form. His shirt was ripped, exposing dark bruises on his chest. The white mop of hair on his head was a mess, barely concealing deep cuts on his forehead, dripping down to his blackened eye.

Mammon opened his mouth as if to explain, but he was stopped by Seren running to him and protectively wrapping her arms around him as tight as she could.

“I-I didn’t have their money…” Mammon whispered.

Seren looked up into his cerulean eyes, not sparkling like normal, and tears began to well up in her own. She couldn’t believe someone would do this to him. Gently, she grabbed his hand and tried to lead him to her room so she could care for him, but he pulled her to his instead.

Mammon plopped down on the bed, looking exhausted. Seren soon joined him, first aid kit in hand. She held his hair out of the way with one hand and dabbed at the blood with the other, cleaning up his injured forehead.

“I’m so sorry,” he mumbled. “I-I had a meeting with the witches, and I didn’t have the money they wanted… So, they did this until they were happy.”

Now the wound was clean, Seren cut a bandage down to size and carefully stuck it over the wound. “It’s okay,” she replied. “I’m sorry that happened to you.” She felt awful for being upset and thinking that he would run away from her while the witches had been torturing him like this.

He turned to look at her, taking in her streaky makeup and tear stained cheeks. “You were crying… were ya really that upset?”

Tenderly, Seren pulled off the demon’s jacket and shirt, checking for any more injuries that might require aid. “I thought you changed your mind about me.”

Mammon’s eyes widened and he grabbed her wrists, begging her to look at him. “Of course not, Seren – I lo-like you, and I wanna go on a date with ya. I meant what I said.”

Seren smiled and got up to put the rags in the bin but stopped in her tracks when she saw something sticking out of a drawer. Something that looked an awful lot like a large amount of grimm.

“Mammon… I thought you said you didn’t have the money.”

He grinned. “I don’t! Not for them; that money is what I’ve been hidin’! For our…” He cleared his throat as his cheeks turned bright pink. “date.”

Seren couldn’t help beaming as she threw herself at him, tackling him to the bed. He yelped and she apologised, still smiling.

“You idiot, you wouldn’t have been hurt if you’d just given it to them!” She laughed.

He bowed his head, his whole face now red. “I wanted to treat ya…”

She gave him a small kiss on the cheek. “Thank you,”

They chatted for a while before Seren yawned, the day catching up with her.

“Hey, come here,” Mammon said, getting under the covers. She did as she was told and was instantly pulled into his embrace. He nuzzled his face into the nape of her neck as she curled up against him. “Thank you for taking care of me.”

“Always,” she replied, sleepily.

Mammon fell asleep much faster, and just as Seren was drifting off she could have sworn she heard him mumble something that sounded like three very specific words. Three words that made her heart leap.

“I love you.”

#obey me!#OBEY ME #obey me shall we date #mammon #mammon fluff #mammon x oc #mammon obey me

37 notes · View notes

joe-mazzello-archive · 4 years

Text

Wait For It

Rating: PG-13

Word Count: 7.1k (lol this was supposed to be a quick one)

Warnings: a bunch of people being super insecure, angst again (sorry gang), some sexy thoughts but no actual smut, cheating

A/N: sooooo i’ve been up in my hamilton feels as of late so this fic is the result of that. shoutout to my favorite bridge troll @brianmays-hair for the original prompt that inspired this plus letting me bounce ideas off of her when my brain can only form partial thoughts, ily babe. also, shoutout to my first gwil-centric fic! of course joe makes an appearance because i’m the worst. eventually i’ll write a fic that joe is not in lol. also, y’all may not like yourself in this one. sorry :(

(also i know everyone uses this gif, so sue me)

I look into your eyes and the sky’s the limit.

Joe had just…always been there. He was the friend who never strayed no matter how far apart you were. When your lives seemed determined to pull you in different directions, you didn’t let it. The two of you could go an entire year on separate sides of the country, but once reunited it was like you were never apart. You understood each other in a way that was hard to define. Your connection ran deep, deeper than any other connection you’d ever had with another person.

Falling in love with Joe Mazzello was hard.

It was hard because you didn’t want to. You didn’t want to complicate things or ruin the connection you had. Every urge to kiss him or hold his hand or pull him into your bed just frustrated you. How could your heart betray you like that? It set you up for failure. Every romantic prospect was subconsciously compared to Joe. They weren’t as funny as him, weren’t as charming as him, didn’t understand you as well as he did. It wasn’t fair to you or to Joe or to all of the people who tried to win you over.

Every fantasy you had of Joe waking up one day and realizing you were the one for him was met with anger and frustration at yourself. His golden eyes, those eyes that held so much happiness and adoration inside of them, haunted you, slipping into your dreams at night, your thoughts during the day. You mentally punished yourself for feeling jealous of the girls that came and went from his life. He was your friend, but he wasn’t yours. And he never would be. You knew that. But your heart had other ideas.

And then came Gwilym.

You’d heard all about him from Joe, his excited texts about his newfound friendships with his castmates regaling story after story about the tall man. You’d be lying if you said you weren’t intrigued by Joe’s new friends, it had been awhile since you’d witnessed Joe have such deep connections with people that he had only known for a few months.

You were Joe’s “date” to a Bohemian Rhapsody screening in LA; his way of trying to make up for the months he spent away from you. You had been dragged to a hotel suite before the event, an apparent pre-party that the cast and production team would all be in attendance for. Ben was polite and reserved in his introduction, revealing he had looked forward to finally meeting his competition for the title of Joe’s Best Friend. You were unfazed, however; you knew that title would always belong to you.

Rami wrapped you up a big hug, insisting there would be less time between your next reunion. He promised a catch-up lunch date in the future, once things slowed down for him. You knew things would never slow down for such a powerhouse talent like Rami, but you appreciated the gesture. Lucy was a delight, greeting you like an old friend and grilling you for embarrassing stories about Joe she could hold over his head. You could see yourself finding a lifelong friend in the bubbly blonde.

And then Joe’s hand was on your shoulder, leading you to a familiar gentleman who towered above you, who’s piercing blue eyes gazed at you with a warmth that you hadn’t felt in ages.

Falling in love with Gwilym Lee was easy.

It was almost scary how easy it was. Everything about him brought you joy. His laugh, the way he’d stroke his own beard in thought, his ability to be a serious gentleman one second and a huge goofball the next. He let you ramble about whatever and listened intently with a huge smile on his face. He made you feel safe and completely seen; with one look, he communicated that yes, he saw you and he liked what he saw. Maybe even loved it.

There were times where you’d be in his arms and held you like you were going to disappear. Those were the nights you spent showering in him in affection. You wanted him to feel safe, feel seen, just like he always made you feel. You would touch him, caress him, take care of him, make him feel good, all while making sure he knew without a doubt that you weren’t going anywhere.

Gwil made you the happiest you’d been in a long time. You were able to love someone freely; no more punishing yourself. No more overthinking or doubting or hating. Because you realized one day that yes, you loved Joe Mazzello and you always would. But you were in love with Gwilym Lee.

It had been six months since your first meeting when the two of you sat on your couch in your apartment, him holding your hand in both of his, timidly stroking the soft skin with his thumb. His nervous demeanor had you worried for what felt like the first time since he came into your life. Had he seen through your confident facade? Had he realized that you were too much for him? Too loud, too intense? Loved him too hard, too fast?

“I know it’s only been half a year,” he admitted timidly. “But, I just...I feel like this is...this is real.” Your worried frown faded to a soft smile as he finally looked up from the floor, meeting your gaze. You could see everything he was feeling in his eyes. Anxiety, worry, yes. But also so much love. And all of a sudden, you knew exactly what he wanted to ask you.

“And I want to nurture that,” he continued. “I want this to grow. And I understand if you think it’s too soon or even a ridiculous request--”

“Gwil, just ask me already.”

He took a big breath and squeezed your hand before speaking again.

“What do you think about coming to London? As in, moving to London. With me.”

You didn’t hesitate for a second. You didn’t have to. You knew the answer as soon as you figured out what the question was.

“Yes.”

His furrowed brow and distressed gaze melted away in relief and were replaced with watery eyes and that bright smile you knew and loved. He kissed you like he had just won the lottery, gripping you tight against him and pouring every emotion into the kiss. You kissed him back just as fiercely, the two of you communicating entirely by tasting each other.

When you pulled back for a moment to breathe, you didn’t go far, keeping your forehead pressed against his. His ocean blue eyes, those eyes that held so much promise and love inside of them, comforted you, ensuring you that you had found him, you’d found your person.

I’m down for the count and I’m drownin’ in ‘em.

◈◈◈

Love doesn't discriminate between the sinners and the saints, it takes and it takes and it takes.

It wasn’t love at first sight for Gwil. No, he was in love with you long before he met you. The stories Joe had told him about his best friend back home painted a picture of this extraordinary person with a big heart and a love to laugh. Gwil didn’t understand how he could be so attached to a person he hadn’t even laid eyes on yet.

He was embarrassed at how often he combed through your Instagram, scrolling through every picture of your bright smile, wanting nothing more than to be the one to cause it. He was so tempted to hit the follow button but worried it would be weird. Did you even know who he was? Had Joe told you about him? Or did you live in blissful ignorance of the man who pined after you from afar?

Gwil had come to terms with the fact that he’d probably never meet you. You lived back in LA, working as an interior designer. Your paths would never cross and Gwil accepted that. He assumed his oddly strong feelings towards you would fade over time. Once the shoot was done and Joe wasn’t around as much, the stories would stop. Gwil would move on.

And then suddenly you were standing right next to Joe, smack in front of Gwil, beaming up at him with that familiar smile, your hand outstretched.

“You must be Gwilym!”

You did know who he was. He wasn’t sure if that was worse.

You didn’t know how unfair he’d been to you. He had crafted this vision of you in his head comprised of anecdotes from Joe and the little bit of information he could discern from your social media. You were this perfect person in his mind that no one could ever live up to.

And then you surpassed that person in every way.

You were so beautiful. Gwil didn’t understand how you could be even more otherworldly in person. Your smile lit up his entire world, your eyes were an abyss he loved to get lost in. You floated through the world with an elegance Gwil thought only possible in dreams. And when he finally had you under him, your smooth skin beneath his fingertips, he was convinced you were an angel, an ethereal being sent from beyond. Gwilym Lee was in love with your body.

You were so smart. The ideas you had, the questions you asked, the challenges you threw at him always had Gwil so impressed with your intellect. You had the ability to think of things long before Gwil thought of them. You would spout out words of wisdom as though you had centuries of experience and knowledge. You could derive phrases that pulled at his heartstrings or sent the blood in his head down south. Gwil would watch you as you burrowed into the corner chair you’d claimed as your own during your first visit to his flat in London, clad in his own sweater, either reading from your stack of books or scribbling away in your own. Gwilym Lee was in love with your mind.

You were so loving. You cared deeply about your friends and family, going out of your way to make sure everyone in your life was taken care of. Your heart was so vast and had room for so many people that at first Gwil was worried he was misunderstanding the situation. Was the affection he received from you the same you gave to everyone else? Was he the only one to hold you like this or was he not alone? You had so much love to give, Gwil almost thought himself selfish for wanting you to himself. But you and your infinite wisdom and your big heart saw right through Gwil’s insecurities. You whispered words of tenderness into his ear, things he didn’t even know he needed to hear, and his doubts were sated once again. Gwil didn’t understand how he got so lucky, to be in your orbit, and to have your love shone upon him like the brightest star in the sky. You made Gwil love more freely, helped him tear down walls he had put up in his younger years when he had been used and abused and treated like nothing. How one person could come into his life and make it better in every single possible way, he would never comprehend. Gwilym Lee was in love with your heart.

Gwil realized these things only a few months after meeting you face to face. He was almost...ashamed at how hard and fast he fell for you. To him, his intense infatuation seemed almost childish, immature. It was too soon. There were too many things standing in the way, too much distance between you two. He was foolish, setting himself up for heartache. You had made it seem so easy, loving freely and fiercely, and Gwil had followed suit. But he knew from experience that it wasn’t realistic long-term. That intense love would burn out, becoming a black hole that would suck away the light from his entire world. You were too beautiful, too smart, too loving. It was too good to be true that Gwil would get to keep you. There were so many people out in the world that you deserved more, that deserved you more, and one day you would wake up and realize that. It wouldn’t be your fault, he would never hold it against you.

And he knew how it would happen. He knew who it would happen with. Gwil was doomed from the start, really. He would never be able to compete with what you had with Joe. The bonds you two shared ran deep, built upon years and years of being each other’s person to run back to, shoulder to cry on, friend to share a laugh with.

Gwil hated that he felt like he had to compete with Joe. He loved Joe and he loved you and he loved that the two of you loved each other. But he felt like he was running out of time. Especially being so far away from you most of the time. When a majority of your interactions took place over Facetime and text, and Gwil had to watch as you went out to lunch with Joe or went hiking with Joe or explored new bookstores with Joe, Gwil’s gut instinct was that his time with you was almost up.

So in a desperate attempt to save what he assumed was a doomed relationship, Gwil held your hands and asked you to move to London with him.

And you said yes. Without even blinking. And with a huge smile on your face.

The relief Gwil felt was unbelievable. He wasn’t crazy. He wasn’t in too deep. He was on equal ground. With that one word and your unwavering gaze, every insecurity Gwil had ever felt about you and your relationship vanished into thin air. You -- beautiful, smart, and loving you -- wanted to uproot your life and move to a different country to be with him.

How did he get so lucky?

It’s the thought that rang through his head every single day after that conversation. He thought it while he helped you with job and visa logistics. He thought it while he helped you set up listings for selling your apartment furniture. He thought it while you fell asleep with your head on his shoulder on the flight back to London. And he thought it while you whined out his name in bed the first night in your now shared flat.

That thought morphed and molded itself in Gwil’s head. He was lucky. He had somehow won the lottery on significant others and had gotten you. He couldn’t wrap his mind around it some days. Thoughts about what he had done to deserve you slowly turned into thoughts about whether or not he even deserved you in the first place. Had he accidentally tricked you? Plucked you out of a world you should have been in and forced you into one he selfishly wanted?

Suddenly it had been another six months. If you were miserable you seemed to hide it well, which Gwil could appreciate. He found himself wanting to ask you if you were happy, but he was afraid of the answer. He knew you would never lie to him. You never had before.

On days where he was home and you were working, he would sit in his office and mull it all over. He felt guilty that he constantly played mental gymnastics with himself, especially when you were always there for him to listen and love. Every other time he had an issue and he had gone to you about it, you listened with an open heart and a soft smile on your face. You didn’t even have to say much to fix the problem, you were magic in that way.

One late afternoon he found himself in his office once again, fidgeting with a small velvet box, passing it back and forth between his trembling hands. He had impulse-bought the ring months ago, when a walk downtown to buy your birthday present had inadvertently led him to a jeweler. He had told himself that the second he was one hundred percent certain everything between you two wasn’t an elaborate joke or fantasy, he’d pull out the box and get down on one knee. But Gwil’s constant plaguing thoughts made him feel like that day would never come. Who was he to ask you to be with him forever?

So when you appeared in the doorway with a bag from his favorite takeaway place, intent on surprising him with being home from work early, Gwil could feel nothing but sheer panic. And that panic increased tenfold when your eyes fell to the velvet box in his lap.

He watched, paralyzed with fear as your own eyes grew large, your jaw dropping open slightly when your words trailed off. It was not the reaction he would have ever wanted. Clearly you were scared, thrown off by even the concept of marrying him.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered, and Gwil could feel his heart shatter into thousands of pieces.

But then you threw your hand over your eyes, and Gwil thought he was going insane because were you smiling?

“I promise I didn’t see anything!”

Absolutely bewildered, Gwil stood to his full height and crossed the room, gently pulling your hand away from your face.

“Let’s say you did see something,” he said, his voice small. “Is that something...something that would make you happy?” Gwil wasn’t sure if his heart could take another drop on the emotional roller coaster, but it was better he found out now than let that question slowly pick him apart.

And then you brought his hand to your lips, placing the softest of kisses to his knuckles. Your eyes began to water as you looked at him like no one had before.

“It would make me the happiest person on the entire planet.”

Your magic cured him once again. One sentence and the relief flooded Gwil’s veins. He then slowly got to his knee, never letting go of your hand the entire time. With a shaky voice, he spoke your name.

“Will you marry me?”

Time seemed to stop for Gwil, but you didn’t hesitate for a second. You didn’t have to. You knew the answer as soon as you had laid eyes on that little box.

“Yes.”

The two of you shared a watery laugh as he slid the ring on your finger. You held each other as you cried and kissed and kissed and cried. Gwil had never been happier in his entire life. You wanted him. Forever.

And when the tears stopped and the two of you finally sat down to eat the nearly forgotten takeaway, you pulled out your phone and announced that you had to call Joe. Because he had to be the first to know.

An hour before, that would have given Gwil a twinge of worry. Worry that even though you had a ring on your finger, Joe was still more important than him.

But that worry didn’t come. And that worry never came again. You had chosen him, and for the first time, Gwil knew, without a doubt, that that would never change.

If there's a reason I'm by her side when so many have tried, then I'm willing to wait for it.

◈◈◈

I don't know how to say no to this, but this situation is helpless.

You hadn’t thought twice when Joe invited you out to LA for a weekend to hang out. You hadn’t seen him in person since before moving to London, and you were both itching for a reunion that wasn’t held via Facetime or Zoom.

Gwil had almost insisted on it. He’d be away on a shoot for a few weeks and he hated the idea of you being by yourself the entire time. He could also tell you were a bit overwhelmed with wedding planning. You needed a break. And you both knew that even though Joe would be in the wedding as a groomsman, you probably wouldn’t get to spend too much time with him at the event itself considering you’d have to try and make time for the over two hundred guests that would be in attendance.

As you settled into your plane seat, a thought occurred to you that had you concerned about your trip for the first time. It was true that as your relationship with Gwil had blossomed, your friendship with Joe had faded a bit. You weren’t sure if it was subconscious or completely by accident. Throwing yourself head first into your budding romance with Gwil had offered a break from the constant pain of having fallen for Joe. So had you unintentionally pulled away from Joe, channeling all of your energy into what was a new and exciting distraction? Possibly.

But truly, it was the distance. You’d been in London for almost a full year, and between your schedule and his, you hadn’t seen each other since before the move. Time between text conversations and Facetime calls grew and grew.

You’d been separated for long periods of time before and yet things had never changed. And even now, you still considered him your best friend. But there was that little bit of fear that things would be different this time. You wouldn’t be able to just pick right up where you left off.

But your fears were put to rest as soon as he wrapped his arms around you again. It was like the past year hadn’t even happened. Your Joe was in front of you, in the flesh, and everything felt right again. You joked and laughed and sang the entire drive from the airport to his house. You spent the evening catching each other up on everything the other had missed. You told him about work and new friends and places you’d seen and English slang you’d picked up. He filled you in on his latest projects, told you stories about mutual friends you hadn’t seen in ages, and as always, had you laughing until your sides hurt.

It wasn’t until you were settled in his guest room bed later that night that you realized he hadn’t once asked about Gwil or the wedding.

You spent the next day being paraded around LA by Joe, the two of you hitting all of the cheesy tourist spots that you hadn’t been to in years before eventually heading to the beach. As the pair of you stretched out on towels in the sand while soaking up the sun, you remembered the thought you had the night before.

So you took it upon yourself to introduce the topic.

“Oh, Gwil sends his love, by the way,” you casually said, as if you had just thought of it. Joe offered a small smile and nodded, his only acknowledgement of your statement before jumping to his feet.

“Let’s go in the water!”

You were temporarily distracted by an intense water war with Joe once the two of you made it chest-deep into the ocean. Joe then launched into an elaborate tale about going to the beaches on the east coast growing up, making you laugh with an imitation of his brother, whom you hadn’t seen in ages but had recently RSVPed yes to your nuptials.

“I’m excited to see him again at the wedding,” you revealed, testing your developing theory about Joe once again. “I can’t even remember the last time I saw him.”

“Yeah,” was all Joe said before diving under the water and grabbing at your ankle, earning a squeal from you.

Another attempt foiled. You were pretty sure he was avoiding the topic outright.

You didn’t understand why. Gwil was one of his closest friends. You knew the two chatted frequently, probably more frequently than you and him. For a brief moment you entertained the idea that Joe was actually more upset by you living so far away than he had let on previously. You remembered being surprised at Joe’s reaction to you moving to London. You had invited him out for lunch one day to break the news, and while he claimed he was going to miss you something fierce, he was happy for you. At least that was what you had left that lunch feeling.

Maybe Joe was an even better actor than you realized.

You had to get some answers out of him. It started to get bizarre, the lengths he would go to in order to avoid talking about Gwil or the wedding. And although you had had an incredibly fun and relaxing weekend with your old friend, one that you had desperately needed, by Sunday night a weird tension had set in. Joe definitely knew you were on to him; you could tell by how little effort he started putting into trying to change the subject.

So you decided you had had enough. If he wasn’t going to be outright with you, you needed to confront him. You had disappeared into the guest room after Joe had cooked the two of you dinner with the excuse that you wanted to make sure your bag was packed for your early flight home the next morning. Sure, there was some truth to that, but you also needed the time to compose your thoughts before challenging Joe.

You walked warily back into the living room where Joe had pulled up some Netflix movie and had it paused while he tapped away at his phone, clearly waiting for you.

“Can I ask you something?” you hesitantly questioned as you took a seat next to Joe.

“Anything,” he replied as his attention left his phone and turned to you, a confident smile on his face.

“Why haven’t you asked about Gwil or the wedding?”

You could practically see the blood drain from Joe’s face. His smile was exchanged for a look of what seemed almost like...fear. After a few seconds of silence indicating that he wasn’t going to answer you right away, you continued.

“Every time I mention Gwil or the wedding, you find some excuse to change the subject or use something to distract me. Don’t think I haven’t noticed. I know you too well,” you explained with a soft smile, attempting to lighten the mood, an endeavour you quickly realized was fruitless. Joe was staring intently at his lap, and you could hear the gears turning in his head. Joe always had a tendency to think really loudly.

“Joe?”

“I thought I was over it,” he suddenly spit out. You furrowed your brows. When he didn’t continue, you spoke up again.

“Over what? Me moving away?”

“I thought I was over you,” he admitted, finally looking up at you with those golden eyes you’ve always known. Those eyes that had once haunted you, slipping into your dreams at night, your thoughts during the day. Those eyes that you hadn’t worried about in over a year.

You were stunned to silence.

“I...lost my chance with you,” he continued. “It sounds so fucking cliche but I didn’t realize what I had until it was gone. It took you moving to London for me to realize that I’ve been in love with you for a long, long time.”

It was like every emotion you could possibly feel overtook your body in one fell swoop. How were you supposed to process something like that? You were shocked, confused, and a little bit sad, but most of all, you were fucking livid.

“Are you fucking kidding me?” you practically shouted as you jumped to your feet, earning a startled wince from Joe. “I pined after you for years. I had it so bad for you for so long. And now? When I’ve finally gotten over you....and I’m happy with someone else...you have the fucking nerve to drop that on me?” You were frantic, thoughts running wild, your heart pounding. You marched into the kitchen, needing some space to collect yourself. You could feel tears pricking your eyes as you sat at Joe’s kitchen island.

“You pined after me?” Joe’s quiet voice sounded from the doorway. You frustratedly swiped at the drops running down your cheeks before turning to look at Joe.

“I always loved you, you asshole,” you revealed before burying your face in your hands. How could he do this to you? You were months away from getting married, to one of his closest friends no less, and he chose now to confess that he was in love with you.

At least you had gotten the answer to your original question.

“I’m such an idiot,” you heard Joe whisper. “I could have had you all this time.”

After a few moments, you felt two tentative arms wrap around you from behind. Joe laid his head against your back.

“I’m sorry,” he murmured against the fabric of your t-shirt. “Please don’t cry.”

You were so angry with him. So angry at the situation. But he was still Joe. And part of you still loved him, even though that love had changed over the past year or so. So you turned into his embrace, wrapping your arms around him. You lost track of how long the two of you stayed there, holding each other while time ticked away.

Eventually Joe pulled back for a moment before cradling your face in his hands. His thumbs wiped away the last of your tears as the two of you gazed at each other.

And then Joe was kissing you.

It was brief, almost as if he had done it accidentally. A flash of fear shone in his eyes and you knew you probably mirrored him. But then he was kissing you again.

And you were kissing him back.

For years you had wondered what it would be like to kiss Joe Mazzello. And now, there you were, his lips as soft as you thought they’d be. He tasted like wine and pasta sauce and something else that was uniquely Joe. His hands on your face kept you close to him as his mouth moved against yours.

He pulled back to take a breath, his hands sliding down to your hips, his forehead pressed against yours. You needed to push him away. You needed to stop this.

“You can say no to this. Just tell me to stop.”

You didn’t.

That night you lived out a fantasy that you had used to have for years but hadn’t thought about in ages. That night you explored Joe’s body as he explored yours, touching, tasting, feeling. No words were exchanged, the only sounds that rang out through Joe’s bedroom were soft whimpers and grunts of pleasure.

When you left the bed to use the restroom, the tears came back. You had been stupid, acting on selfish impulses. Acting on a lingering curiosity. Taking advantage of a situation you had been presented with.

Joe let you cry in his bathroom, and you mentally thanked him for knowing not to bother you.

When you finally emerged, Joe appeared to be asleep. You didn’t stop to find out for sure. Instead you moved across the hall into the guest room. You held a pillow to your chest and tearfully wished you had never come to LA.

You didn’t get much sleep. You were up at least an hour before you had to be, getting dressed and cooking the two of you a quick breakfast. When Joe finally appeared in the kitchen, he silently picked at his plate of eggs and bacon. No words were spoken. Nothing needed to be said. That was the thing about knowing someone so well.

The drive to the airport was soundtracked by a playlist of rock medleys that normally both you and Joe would sing along to. But no songs were sung on that trip.

After helping you pull your suitcase out of the back of your car, Joe stood there awkwardly wringing his hands together. You didn’t blame him for not knowing what was appropriate. You didn’t know where the boundaries laid anymore either.

So you threw him a bone, pulling him into a tight embrace, one that he immediately reciprocated. For some reason, even though you’d be seeing him again in a few months, it felt like a forever goodbye. Like it was the last time you would ever hold each other.

“I will always love you,” you whispered as you buried your face in his shoulder. “But I’m in love with Gwil.” It was true. And you hated that you needed to say it out loud.

You felt him nod into your hair. He understood.

You left him with a peck on the cheek, and got on your plane. And you spent the ten hour flight mentally preparing to banish the entire weekend from your memory. Gwil could never find out.

And he never did.

Nobody needs to know.

◈◈◈

I remember that night, I just might regret that night for the rest of my days.

Joe stood between Ben and Gwil’s brother, clad in a gray suit with a colorful pocket square. He watched as you floated down the aisle looking the most beautiful he’d ever seen you, a stunning vision accoutred in white.

But the most gorgeous thing about you wasn’t your dress or your hair or your makeup, as perfect as it all was. No, the thing that stood out to Joe was the look of pure elation that you wore as you made your way between the rows of chairs. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d seen you so sublimely happy.

And it pained him. Because it was a subtle reminder that he’d never be the one to make you that happy.

Joe stole a glance at Gwil, and he had the exact same gaze upon his face. Joe felt a twinge of guilt in his gut. He should be happy. He should be satisfied. Two of the most important people in his life had found love with each other. That was something to celebrate. So Joe hated that he felt nothing but sadness. It was selfish and unfair to the both of you.

But the thing Joe hated the most was that this whole thing was all his fault.

He remembered the day he introduced you to Gwil like it was yesterday. What was supposed to be a night out with you after being separated for so long turned into Joe playing third wheel as he watched you and Gwil bond. The connection was instantaneous.

It didn’t bother Joe at all at first. In fact, he was ecstatic. He patted himself on the back whenever he could, taking complete credit for your budding romance. You seemed lighter, as if Gwil had taken the weight of the world off your shoulders. And Joe trusted the both of you not to break each others’ hearts; he knew you were amazing people, and he believed you deserved each other.

It was only a month before Joe started to notice the drift. You texted him less, you didn’t have as much free time to hang out. Things you used to do with him you now did with Gwil. Joe tried not to let it get to him. He had never been bothered by relationships you had been in previously. But there was something about this time around that irked him.

At first he assumed it was because it was Gwil. Two of his friends had essentially ganged up on him, opting to spend more time with each other than with him. But that wasn’t it.

Then he thought it was because you went to London a lot. It seemed like every time Joe tried to make plans with you he was met with a “I’ll actually be in London that week.” But that wasn’t it.

For a fleeting moment he thought it was a worry that the two of you were moving too quickly. A fear that the pair of you would have an ugly break up and Joe would be caught in the middle of it. But that wasn’t it.

It took almost six months of you and Gwil together for him to realize that he was head over heels in love with you.

How could he have been so stupid? You had been right there in front of him for years and years and it took you getting into a serious relationship for him to wake up. He had wasted so much time.

Gwil was one of his best friends in the entire world. But you had been his best friend longer. He needed to tell you. He couldn’t lie to you.

As soon as Joe had made the decision, you were asking him to grab lunch with you. He spent the hours leading up to it pacing in his apartment, working through a speech in his head.

His plan was foiled when you sat across from him in the ramen shop and announced you were moving to London. You were elated as you told him the story of Gwil nervously asking you. Joe put his acting skills to the test as he sat in that booth for an hour and pretended to be happy for you. Pretended that he was okay when truly he was dying inside.

The last shred of hope Joe could hold on to was that he’d be able to get over you easier. The distance would ease his pain. Maybe he’d meet someone, someone who would somehow be even more beautiful and smarter and more loving than you. He didn’t think that person existed, but he had to hold out hope.

He threw himself into work, trying to distract himself with jobs, filling the time between those jobs by writing, something you always helped him with. You had been his muse, a revelation that frustrated Joe as he struggled with the worst case of writer’s block he’d ever had.

He understood that your lives had been pulled in different directions, but that didn’t mean it didn’t hurt when the periods between conversations and phone calls got longer and longer as time went on. He missed you. Setting all of his romantic feelings aside, he simply missed his best friend.

He was curled up in front of the TV watching some dumb video Ben had sent him when your name flashed across his phone screen. He couldn’t have been more relieved to see your face. You greeted him with a huge grin and an excited air about you.

And then you revealed the true intention of your call with a flash of a diamond ring on your finger.

Gwil’s face appeared a few moments later, asking Joe to be one of his groomsmen. Of course Joe agreed, he’d do anything for Gwil. Even be a groomsman in his wedding to the woman he loved.

He told himself that he’d be over you by the time the wedding came. He had to be. He just had to.

He didn’t know what came over him when he asked you to come visit him for a weekend. He just missed you. He missed you like crazy and he needed you. He needed his best friend, his person.

The days leading up to your arrival were spent stress-cleaning his entire apartment. He was terrified things would be weird. Why couldn’t everything just be like it was before? Before he ever introduced you to Gwilym. If he hadn’t brought you to the screening that night would you and him ever met? Would Joe have at some point realized his feelings while you were still available? Was there an alternate universe where you and him Facetimed Gwil to show off the ring on your finger?

Then Joe blinked and you were in his arms once more. He held you tight, never wanting to let you go. He focused on making sure that the weekend was chock-full of activities, wanting to enjoy the little time he had left with you. Joe was no idiot, he was never going to get a chance to spend a weekend just the two of you ever again.

But why did you have to keep bringing up Gwil and the wedding? He was getting worse and worse at avoiding the subject. He knew you were on to him. There were only so many times he could change conversation topics abruptly before you would notice. You were no idiot either.

And then you sat on his couch on that last night and asked him point blank. He knew he couldn’t lie to you anymore. He wasn’t strong enough.

He hadn’t seen you that angry in years. The last time you’d yelled at him like that was when he spilled coffee on a brand new rug you’d splurged on for your apartment. But this problem couldn’t be fixed with an apology cake and a surprise trip to Restoration Hardware on Joe’s dime.

And then Joe blinked once more and you were in his bed, bare and writhing underneath him. He knew as it was happening that you hadn’t suddenly changed your mind. He didn’t get to call you his. There was still a ring on your finger when your hand gripped Joe’s bicep. He simply enjoyed the moment as much as he could. His heart was breaking as you both rode out waves of pleasure, a desperate exchange of affection that shouldn’t have ever happened. Once again, it was all his fault. He shouldn’t have kissed you. And he shouldn’t have made it your responsibility to put an end to it.

That fateful weekend didn’t happen. Not as far as you and Joe were concerned. You wordlessly agreed to never speak about it ever again. He knew you never told Gwil. If you had, none of you would have been standing in a beautiful field somewhere in Wales, all dressed up and celebrating the union of two of Joe’s favorite people in the world.

While Joe watched the pair of you share your first dance, he sipped at his flute of champagne and remembered what you whispered to him at the airport, words that would forever haunt him.

I will always love you, but I’m in love with Gwil.

He wondered if anyone would ever notice that the two of you didn’t talk to each other anymore, outside of group settings. If anyone did, they didn’t ask. Maybe they all knew. Maybe all of them had figured out Joe’s feelings for you before he ever had. And maybe Joe wasn’t as good of an actor as he realized.

And I know she’ll be happy as his bride. And I know I will never be satisfied.

◈◈◈

Perm Taglist: @queenlover05 @mrhoemazzello @johndeaconshands @madamsledge @sadhwstudent @stardust-galaxies (let me know if i missed you)

#gwilym lee #joe mazzello #gwilym lee x reader #gwilym lee x you #joe mazzello x reader #joe mazzello x you #joemazzmatazz

102 notes · View notes