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aquaquadrant · 7 months

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Philophobia

Word Count: 5,271 Warnings: Shipping, inappropriate/crude humor, paranormal activity, suspense/mild horror, descriptive kissing, mild language Summary: For architecture major and paranormal skeptic Grian, his friends’ after-hours ghost hunting group was just an excuse to spend time with his crush, Scar, without having to actually ask him out. But one fateful night, he finds there just might be things in this world that are scarier than emotional vulnerability… even if only by a very slim margin.

A/N: Did someone ask for a Phasmophobia-inspired Scarian au? Oh yeah, my friend @lunarcrown did! Inspired by the art she made here.

So this is kind of a modern-day college au (not set within the fictional universe of Minecraft), howEVER there are some fantasy aspects in that non-human species (like mob hybrids/monsters) still exist cuz they’re fun and I’m not giving anyone a normal modern name cuz that’s too weird. This is only Phasmophobia-inspired in that GIGS have a ghost-hunting group that functions the same way, but rarely find any conclusive evidence, and don’t have unlimited lives cuz they aren’t playing a game. With that out of the way, hope y’all enjoy, please reblog/comment if u do! - Aqua

~*~

Philophobia

~*~

“I think this is gonna be the one, guys,” Impulse says, turning their van into the driveway.

The suspension creaks as they roll over gravel, rattling the frame in a way that hums through Grian’s hollow bones. His arm is cold where it presses against the window; it’s almost sunset and Impulse has yet to get the van’s heater fixed despite his promises. Stupid demon blood keeping him warm while Grian shivers in the stupid custom pleather jumpsuit that Scar insisted they had made, for their stupid ‘brand’ as a stupid ghost-hunting group. Great, his stupid zipper’s come down again- he stubbornly zips it back up because unlike Scar, he doesn’t like constantly having his bare chest out on display.

Of course, he hasn’t got as much to show off as Scar, who must be getting up at 3 am every morning to work out in order to maintain all that muscle. No wonder Scar prefers to keep his zipper down to his belly button, and doesn’t seem to have ever met a shirt that fits him properly.

… Not that Grian’s ever paid much attention to that sort of thing.

Grian gives an exasperated sigh. “You’ve been saying that about every case we’ve had for three years!”

“No, no, I really mean it!” Impulse insists. “I feel it in my bones.”

“Yeah,” Scar agrees, leaning forward so his shoulder brushes against Grian’s, “you know Impulse bones good!”

The earnest nature of his statement- and the unexpected physical contact- makes Grian flush. “Scar!” he shrieks, swatting Scar’s shoulder.

“What?” Scar defends. “What, he- he’s got big and strong bones, wonderful bones…”

He acts as if he’s got no idea he said something that could be taken the wrong way. And if it weren’t for the upturned corners of his mouth and the barely-restrained laugh in his voice, Grian might actually believe him.

“Dude,” Skizz chuckles from the front seat, “shut up, that’s awesome.”

Impulse sighs. “Anyway,” he says pointedly, “the place recently had a change in ownership. Previous owner passed away-”

“From murder?” Scar gasps.

Another sigh. “No, from liver failure.”

Grian snorts. “From all the drinking he did to forget about the ghostly hauntings?” he presses, exchanging a cheeky grin with Scar.

“No,” Impulse says, with the patience of a saint, “just normal old-age organ failure. The guy was ancient, and some kinda recluse. House had been in his family since it was built, but uh, he had no living relatives, no will when he died. So the bank took ownership and it’s been sitting off-market for like, fifteen years, til some hot-shot investor thought he could flip it-”

“Ughh,” Grian groans, tipping his head back against the seat. “Investors are the worst-”

“I know, I know,” Impulse soothes, “but um, he’d barely begun when things started happening. Contractors reported it day one, then the owner experienced an event himself and called us. So it’s basically still untouched.”

They haven’t even reached the end of the driveway yet, passing by seemingly endless rows of tall, gnarled pines. Admittedly, Grian’s curiosity is piqued. When he agreed to join this stupid ghost hunting group three years ago, he didn’t do so in the hopes of actually discovering any real paranormal activity. The whole idea is laughable. Ghost hunting is a pseudoscience, at best. Just a bunch of idiots scaring themselves silly in an empty house- and now they’re the idiots! Even their name is stupid: Ghost Investigation Group Services, or GIGS, embroidered on their ill-fitting pleather jumpsuits.

But despite his outright skepticism and dislike for pulling late nights in his already extremely limited free time, Grian’s got one very good reason for agreeing to join.

And his name is Scar.

Grian spent half a semester pining away at the fellow architecture major from across the lecture halls of their many shared classes. Charismatic and easy on the eyes, it was inevitable that Grian would develop a bit of a crush. But as they spent more time together during class projects and conversations in the hallway, he found out just how kind-hearted and passionate Scar was, and how easy he was to talk to, and how strong his arms looked in long-sleeved shirts…

… Yeah, ‘crush’ perhaps isn’t the right word.

So when Impulse- the engineering major who Grian was partnered with for physics lab- got the brilliant idea to start a ghost-hunting group with his best friend and roommate Skizz, and Scar expressed interest in joining, Grian made a split-second decision in a moment of weakness. He maintained his skepticism, claiming that he wanted to tag along just to prove how silly the whole idea was. Impulse was fine with it, while Scar said Grian had to wear the same uniform as them, and the rest was history.

(To be fair, that was before Grian knew it’d be a pleather jumpsuit.)

So here they are now nearly three years later, rumbling down a long gravel road in the dark and cold, up late on a Saturday night even though he still isn’t finished with his condominium model that’s due at 8 am on Monday and he’s fresh out of popsicle sticks. Moments like these almost make Grian wish he could just ask a guy out like a normal person, so they could spend time together without chasing pretend ghosts around dusty houses all night.

But that’d require him to talk about his feelings. Ugh, he’d rather let the ghosts get him.

“Alright.” Impulse slows the van to a halt. The doors unlock with a heavy clunk. “What do you guys think?”

Grian isn’t expecting much when he glances out the window. But the sight that greets him immediately prompts a hasty exit from the vehicle, scarcely noticing the sudden chill, his jaw dropping open in awe.

It’s a Victorian. Not a house that someone has mistakenly called ‘Victorian’ just because it looks old. A genuine, honest-to-goodness, Queen Anne’s style two-story Victorian manor with an asymmetrical facade and a rounded corner tower and a generous wrap-around porch, silhouetted against the fading light of the evening sky.

Grian reaches for his flashlight. Sweeping over the exterior, his breath catches. Knots of ivy creep up the walls, and there are a few places where the intricate wood trim has been lost to previous repairs and weather damage. A couple of the windows are bricked up. Most of the paint is faded and peeling. But overall? It’s beautiful.

“Oh man,” Grian murmurs, pushing his glasses back up, “look at the shape of it... look at the dormers!”

A second beam of light joins in; Scar’s emerged from the van. “Lots of character,” he says, sounding similarly entranced. “And still in great condition! Oh, it’s beautiful. It’s enough to make a man cry.”

Impulse hops out of the driver’s seat, chuckling. “I knew you two would like it. It’s an ‘85.”

Grian gives an appreciative whistle. “Look, I still don’t think we’re gonna find anythin’,” he says with a sideways look at Scar, “but I gotta tell ya… if- if I were a ghost… I think I’d haunt a proper house like this. Not those builder-grade boxes in the suburbs.”

“Right?” Impulse says, his forked tail flicking through the air. “That’s what I’m sayin’... I uh, I think this place has real potential.”

Skizz, who’s come around the van to stand with them, nods thoughtfully. “Definitely somethin’ special ‘bout it, that’s for true,” he says, exchanging a look with Impulse. Then he claps his hands together. “Alright gentlemen, let’s get movin’!”

Impulse and Skizz turn towards the van, heading to open the back.

Grian stares after them, squinting suspiciously. That wasn’t just any look. That was a Look. A Look that he knows all too well. They had that same Look on their faces at last year’s frat mixer, when they rigged the speakers at the Heta Kappa house to play ‘Margaritaville’ every time someone flushed a toilet.

It means that they’re Up To Something.

… Grian’s sure he’ll find out sooner or later.

“Well, Grian,” Scar says, hands on his hips as he surveys the property, “if it’s any connotation, at least we’ll get to study some real architecture tonight.”

Grian gives him a bemused look. “Consolation?”

Scar blinks. “Cono- what, what’d I say? Con- coronation?”

“Don’t worry ‘bout it, ey,” Grian chuckles, patting him on the shoulder. “Let’s go.”

~*~

“Check it out, dude,” Skizz calls excitedly, “temp’s dropping in here! Five degrees colder than the rest of the house!”

Grian makes a noncommittal noise. “It’s an east-facing room and the sun’s only just set, of course it’s colder than the rest of the house,” he says, idly passing his UV glow stick over an armchair. No prints, of course. “I doubt they’ve updated the insulation anytime within the last two decades.”

“And hey, look,” Impulse chimes in from the corner, “I’ve got EMF 1.3!”

Grian doesn’t even look up. “There’s an exposed outlet in here and I’ll bet the wiring’s older than I am. And in any case, it’s still below the recommended threshold.” Ew, okay, now that’s a suspicious UV stain on the floor, but not of the supernatural kind…

“Oh, it’s definitely not up to code,” Impulse agrees. He waves his EMF reader around a bit, making the pitch warble. “But I dunno, I think this must be the ghost’s favorite room. Might not be here right now, but I’m getting some real vibes…”

Grian rolls his eyes. “Sure…”

Twenty minutes in, and despite the house’s hauntingly elegant construction, it’s been the same old story. The house is empty and quiet, as abandoned houses tend to be. Quite sparse, as most of the furnishings probably went to auction. The furniture that’s left is covered with tarps and every surface is coated with a fine layer of dust. He can smell mold somewhere in the floorboards and there’s apparent water damage in the ceiling.

The only renovation attempted thus far was the removal of some cheap linoleum tiles that were laid in the kitchen at some point- a renovation Grian can heartily agree with, there’s some absolutely gorgeous hardwood underneath- but they didn’t get far. The removed tiles are still sitting about in a haphazard pile, hammer and chisel abandoned on the floor beside them. Frantic footsteps smeared in the dust and powder paint the scene of a terrified contractor fleeing for their life from the reported ‘ghostly hauntings’.

In any case, they haven’t heard any activity from the spirit box, nothing unusual has stood out on UV, and the salt Impulse laid out is still undisturbed. Surprise, surprise. Grian’s spent most of his time admiring the elaborate wooden trims lining every wall, scuffed as they are. What he wouldn’t give to properly restore this place…

“Hey, Dipple Dop?” Skizz calls suddenly. “Your radio working okay?”

Impulse gives him a curious look. “Huh? What, is there-” He pauses, glancing down at his radio. “Oh. Oh, yeah. Yeah, actually, mine’s on the fritz, must be overdue a battery change.”

“Oh?” Grian tilts his head innocently. “You don’t think it’s a ghoooost?”

Impulse purses his lips. “I don’t think everything is a ghost,” he says mildly. He clips the radio onto his belt, turning to the door. “I’ve got extras in the van, hang on…”

“I’ll go, too,” Skizz says quickly, slinging an arm and his wing around Impulse’s shoulders. “Buddy system! You know what, I- I’m tellin’ you, you never split up when hunting ghosts. That’s how they get you, dude.”

Oh. Oh, no.

Grian gives them a warning Look.

They give him a cheeky Look back.

“Yup, yeah, that’s true,” Impulse says with obvious feigned sincerity, steering Skizz out of the room. “So uh, you two keep at it, okay, and we’ll be right back…”

“Oh, okay!” Scar says cheerfully, busy setting up the tripod over in the corner and completely oblivious to their scheme. “Have a great time not getting murdered!”

Grian opens his mouth to protest, but Impulse and Skizz are already gone out the front door. Leaving him and Scar completely alone. Totally by coincidence, surely. Oh, he knew his drunken confession to Impulse at the school’s annual bar crawl fundraiser night would come back to bite him eventually.

It’s almost insulting, in a way. Like they think the only reason Grian hasn’t made a move is because he hasn’t had ample alone time with Scar. Like he needed them to give him an opportunity. But if he’d wanted to confess to Scar, he already would have. He’d have had it well done by now. They could give him a little credit.

See, the thing is, he’s thought about it. Plenty of times, in fact. But the issue he keeps coming back to is that if he tells Scar about his crush on him, then Scar will know about it. There’ll be no going back at that point. And if Scar doesn’t feel the same way- well, Grian can kiss their friendship goodbye. So yeah, no, he doesn’t think he’ll be making any dramatic love confessions tonight, strangely enough.

The risk of an awkward silence developing is astronomical, so Grian clears his throat. “Man… isn’t this place somethin’,” he says, then immediately fights the urge to cringe.

Scar, luckily, gives an emphatic nod. “It is, it truly is amazing.” He straightens up, dusting his hands off as he turns to Grian. “You know who’d really love this place, is Gem?”

“Oh, yeah, for sure,” Grian agrees. He busies himself with the UV, so he’s not just standing around. “We should take some pictures for her.”

“Oh, good idea!” Giving the tripod a final once-over, Scar wanders over to Grian. “So, any fingering goin’ on, yet?”

Grian nearly drops his glow stick. “Sorry- any what?!” he screeches, whirling around on Scar.

“You know, ghost fingers!” Scar says, perfectly innocent. He holds his hands up, wiggling his fingers in demonstration. “On the- on the glowy light?”

Grian takes a deep breath, face burning. “Oh Scar, buddy, you gotta think through your words better before you say them, alright?”

“Whaaat?” Scar pretends like he doesn’t know. “What, I’m just- you’ve got the stick, you know, little glow stick for when the ghost touches, uh-”

“Nevermind,” Grian groans. “Anyways, no, I haven’t found any ghostly handprints and I never will, because ghosts aren’t real.”

Scar folds his arms. “Well, hey, maybe the ghost is just polite! You know, he- maybe he’s just minding his business, not touching anything or- or anyone. Just because we don’t get anything on UV doesn’t mean ghosts aren’t real, I’ll have you know.”

Grian sees the challenge for what it is. “Alright…” He reaches into his pocket and pulls out his spirit box. Holding the transponder to his lips, he belts out, “Where ahhre yewww?” in his best imitation of an over-exaggerated pop-punk accent. If Impulse and Skizz are eavesdropping through their radios, he hopes he gave them a start.

Scar laughs. “Oh man, been a while since I heard that one! You-”

I’m close.

Grian jumps so badly he nearly drops the box, his wings puffing out involuntarily. “What?! Wha- who said that?” he demands, spinning around.

Scar blinks at him. “What? Did you hear something through the box?”

“I- I dunno?” Grian says uncertainly. The box seems to be working as normal; when he holds the receiver down, there’s a faint hiss of static, and the bulb remains white. No further noises come from the speaker.

After a couple seconds of tense listening, Grian feels silly. Way to play it cool. He switches the box off with an exasperated sigh. “No, of course I didn’t hear anything through the box. Like I said, ghosts aren’t real.”

Scar hums noncommittally. “Oh, Grian... you know, there are some things in the world that can’t be explained.”

Grian snorts. “Oh, yeah? Well, I- I got a few explanations for ya.” He counts on his fingers. “It could’ve been this old house creaking in the wind, or an electrical surge causing feedback through the transponder, or- or, not to mention, Impulse and Skizz pranking us through the radio?”

Scar snickers. “That does sound like something they’d do, I’ll give you that.”

“Yeah.” Grian slips the box back into his pocket. “And y’know, being in a creepy abandoned house, after dark, out in the middle’a nowhere... it’s easy to think you’re hearin’ things.”

Scar rolls his eyes, but his expression is fond. “I know, I know, so you’ve told me. But one of these days, mister, you’re gonna eat your words.”

“Right,” Grian drawls. “I’m so scared…”

The front door slams shut.

That makes Grian pause. They always leave the front door open while out on a job. It saves time when they have to go back and forth from the van, and saves battery life on their radios when they can just shout to each other through the open doorway. Obviously this job is a little different, because Impulse and Skizz have clearly got it in their heads to try and get him and Scar together, but he wouldn’t think they’d go so far as to-

The lights suddenly flicker and go out. But in the split-second before they do, Grian sees a shadowy figure silhouetted against the door.

Pure instinct takes over. Grian spins on his heel, grabs Scar by the arm, and absolutely flies down the stairs to the basement. He knows they’ve disturbed one or two piles of salt but right now, he can’t bring himself to care. His wings are bumping against the walls and he’s certainly never tried carrying someone as big as Scar before but he doesn’t stop, doesn’t even process the ache of it rattling through his body. He bursts into the basement, feathers flying, and careens towards the back of the room, around a tall shelving unit, and into the corner.

There’s a heap of boxes stacked up in this corner; Grian unceremoniously shoves Scar over top of them, dropping him in the narrow space between the boxes and the wall. He’s wedged in as far as he can himself, laying across the boxes, his double pair of wings preventing him from squeezing in beside Scar. He’s still got the UV light clenched in his fist, he realizes belatedly- he braces his forearms against the wall to try and cover it, fanning his wings out behind him to block it out from the rest of the room. Glancing back over his shoulder, he tries to gauge how much light is getting through when a noise makes him freeze.

Footsteps.

They’re soft and light- certainly not the heavy boots of Impulse or Skizz. No, they sound almost barefoot. And as they gently tap down the stairs, the sound of giggling fills the air. It’s a feminine voice. Young, like a child. Like a little ghostie girl is prancing down the stairs to murder them.

Grian thinks he might pass out. Can ghosts actually kill people? How would they do it if they’re incorporeal? He’s never considered the question before, he never thought he’d have to because it’s ridiculous, ghosts aren’t real, of course they can’t kill people-

The footsteps stop.

Grian isn’t sure if he’s still breathing. He doesn’t dare move. A chill runs up his spine, making every single feather stand on end. He can almost hear the high-pitched violins that would be playing right now if this were a horror movie; the cheesy, overdrawn kind of horror movies that are always playing at the drive-in that the four of them watch while piled into the back of the van in a tangle of limbs and spilled popcorn and oh god he’s spiraling now because he’s about to be killed by a ghost-

Bye-bye!

The chill recedes. Somewhere in his peripheral vision, he sees the faint glow of light from upstairs return.

It’s over.

Grian’s mind is spinning. What was that? What was that? It seems impossible, it doesn’t even feel real to be in this situation right now but he is, there was a ghost, there was a ghost. It feels insane to even think it. But the residual adrenaline coursing through his body reminds him it was very real, he just encountered a ghost.

A ghost! Oh, after three years of very loudly decrying the entire concept as rubbish. He can’t believe it. He really can’t believe it, this is the absolute last thing he expected to happen tonight. Ghosts are real. Ghosts are really, really, real. He doesn’t know what to do, who would ever believe him? Is this how the others have been feeling this whole time? God, he can’t believe this-

“G...?” Scar’s voice pipes up hesitantly. “What... what are we doing?”

Oh, right. Grian glances down at Scar- and his heart jolts. He’d been so focused on getting away from the ghost, he’d acted without thinking, so only now does he realize the... predicament he’s put them in.

Scar’s slumped against the floor beneath him, head tucked just below Grian’s arms. His long legs are still draped over the box that Grian’s laying across, resting on either side of his waist. And due to the odd posture Grian’s in, his chest has been thrust rather close to Scar’s face, lit by the soft purple glow of the UV.

This is probably the closest Grian has ever been to sitting in Scar’s lap.

Grian’s not proud of the yelp that escapes him. “Sorry, sorry!” His wings flail as he struggles to push himself off of the wall, stumbling back onto his feet. It’s clumsy and uncoordinated and he nearly falls backwards, his heart pounding.

Scar manages a laugh, easing himself up off the floor. “No, no, it’s okay, I- I just... what- why’d you bring us down here?” he asks, dusting off his jumpsuit.

Grian catches his breath. “Wait, you... didn’t hear the creepy ghost on its way to kill us?” he asks, frowning.

Scar‘s eyes widen. “What? There was a ghost?”

No way.

“Are you-!” Grian throws his arms up. “Honestly, I- I know avians have better hearing than most but that’s insane. She was laughing! Laughing and skipping down the blumin’ steps! And you didn’t hear any of it?”

“No…?” Scar shrugs helplessly. “I’m sorry, okay! I- I don’t know, I was- a lot was happening, you- you’re grabbin’ me, pulling me down the stairs and into this little corner, I didn’t know what was going on! I didn’t know, I- I was all disconbodulated- disco- bobo, bobumated? I was a little distracted, okay. Jeeze, give a man a break…”

“Distracted?” Grian repeats incredulously. “You’re the one who actually believes in ghosts, here, how could you get distracted? What do you…”

He trails off. Scar is very clearly fighting to avoid looking at Grian, but for the briefest moment, his eyes dart down to Grian’s chest. Suddenly confused, Grian follows his gaze, and-

Oh, for goodness sakes. At some point during his frantic flight, the stupid zipper on his stupid jumpsuit came down again, exposing a frankly scandalous amount of skin. Not Scar-level of scandalous, but pretty close.

Grian immediately feels himself turn red. “Oh. Uh- right,” he hastily pulls the zipper back up, “sorry ‘bout that…”

Wait. Wait just a second.

Scar was distracted from a literal ghost hunt going on... because Grian’s bare chest was showing? Does that... does that mean he liked it?

Scar’s avoiding his gaze again. His cheeks are tinted pink.

“Scar...?” Grian ventures carefully. “Were you... lookin’ at my chest?”

Scar’s cheeks darken. “Ah, I- I- don’t- I mean, why would you- I didn’t mean to, it’s just...” He fumbles for the words. “What- what am I- hey, your pecs were basically in my face! I wasn’t trying to look, I- I just-”

“Scar,” Grian says, keeping his voice light and teasing, “did ya… did you like what you saw?”

Scar splutters for a moment. “Well, sure, Grian,” he tries to laugh it off, “I mean, anyone- anyone with eyes can see you’re uh, you know, you’re- you’re pretty attractive. I- I’m secure enough to say it, I don’t care, it’s- sure, of course, you’re very muscular! You’re a- you’re a muscular man, it’s just not always obvious with the sweaters you wear. Or- sorry, you call them jumpers in Britain land, right, they’re jumpers-”

“You been checkin’ me out, Scar?” Grian asks, caught somewhere between playfulness and utter disbelief.

“Uh...” Scar rubs the back of his neck. He exhales slowly, clearly debating with himself. “I... maybe? What... what would you say... if that were the case?”

Grian swallows. His heart is absolutely racing now, and he’s broken into a cold sweat that’s definitely not supernatural in origin. The air between them feels fragile; he’s acutely aware that a single word from him could swiftly plunge them back into the realm of safe familiarity, of casual light-hearted teasing between friends. Scar’s always said things that bordered on the flirtatious, and Grian can hide behind the plausible deniability of teasing. This entire interaction doesn’t have to mean anything. It can be easily moved past and forgotten.

And yet, strangely enough… Grian doesn’t want it to. Maybe it’s the post-haunting adrenaline or the fact that he could’ve died tonight, but all of a sudden, he feels like taking a chance. Like he could finally say what he’s wanted to say for the last three years. He managed to hold his own against a blumin’ ghost, for goodness sakes- he should be able to face his own feelings head on.

He takes a breath. “I’d say that’s a relief… ‘cause I’ve been checkin’ you out since day one of first year.”

Scar stares at him for a long moment. His expression is utterly unreadable. The silence draws on long enough that Grian feels a spike of panic, worried that maybe he’s mishandled the situation-

“... oh my god,” Scar says finally. “Really?”

It sounds like the good kind of surprise. Grian offers a shy smile. “Yeah, yeah,” he admits. “I- Scar, I know I’m real good at playin’ these things close to the vest, but uh, I- I’ve had a massive crush on you since... basically since the day we met.”

“Huh.” Scar blinks. “You’re serious. You- you’re not pranking me right now?”

That startles a laugh out of Grian. “No! Scar, I don’t- we just survived being hunted by a ghost, I’m not pranking you!”

“Well, that’s- that’s amazing!” A grin spreads across Scar’s face- and man, oh man, does he have just the most wonderful smile. “Oh my gosh, G, I don’t- you don’t even know how long I’ve been waiting for this.”

The relief is almost overwhelming. “Yeah, me too!” Grian laughs, half-dazed and half-giddy, running a hand through his hair. “I- I even- look, the whole reason I even joined this group was as an excuse to hang out with you!”

Scar’s mouth falls open. “No way! That’s- that’s the whole reason I joined in the first place, too!”

Now it’s Grian’s turn to gawk. “Are you joking?”

“I’m not!” Scar insists, “I swear, I’m not- Impulse said he wanted to start the group and maybe we’d all join and get to hang out and I thought ‘hey, ghosts are cool and Grian is cool’ so I just-”

“Oh, I can’t believe this…” Grian groans, hiding his burning face in his hands. “We really are idiots, we’ve wasted nearly three years…”

Scar’s hands close around Grian’s wrists, lightly pulling them down from his face. “Well, I guess we’ll just have to make up for lost time,” he says smoothly, leaning in.

Corny, but Grian will allow it. He closes the gap, tilting his head up to meet Scar’s lips.

In that moment, everything else fades away. All the nervousness, all the second-guessing, even the bombshell discovery of the existence of ghosts- there could be one standing in front of them right now and Grian wouldn’t care. The way Scar gathers Grian in his arms, hands gently roving through his feathers- it’s bliss. It’s perfect.

Scar kisses him strong and purposefully, with no trace of carelessness or haste. He doesn’t rush. There’s intent written into every single movement, jaw working to deepen the kiss. Grian curls against him, hands splayed across Scar’s chest. He can feel Scar’s heart pounding through his flushed skin, and it’s wildly exciting- to think Scar is just as breathless as he is.

Growing bold, Grian dares to slip his tongue into Scar’s mouth, and the noise he makes- part surprise, part delight- sends pure electricity fizzling up his spine. His mind is starting to drift away from him, lost in the sensation of weightlessness, of floating, that almost makes him feel like he’s gone completely incorporeal- like his own spirit has become untethered from the mortal coil.

Then Skizz’s voice comes down the stairs.

“G-Sharp! Scarface! You down here? We just saw a freaking ghost on the cams, and- oh my god!”

Grian breaks away from Scar, but not quick enough. He turns to see Skizz and Impulse standing at the bottom of the stairs, expressions shocked. And then, as if they’d rehearsed it, they both break into massive shit-eating grins and spin around to high-five each other.

“Woo!” Impulse cheers. “We got ‘em! Ladies and gentlemen, we finally got them.”

“Yeah, baby!” Skizz pumps his fist in the air. “Oh, I love it!”

“Oh, would you two stop it?” Grian huffs, but he’s not really cross. Hard to be cross when he’s on cloud nine. “The ghost did most of the work, alright?”

“That’s right,” Scar sniffs, winding an arm around Grian’s waist. “You know, I- I’m startin’ to think you all were in cahoots! Cahoots, I say!”

“Dude, if only,” Skizz laughs, walking over to clap them on the shoulders. “Could not have planned it better, that’s amazing. Well done, gentlemen!”

“Yeah, it’s about time!” Impulse adds, crossing his arms. “I was starting to think we’d graduate before either of you fessed up, I- I had to take drastic measures…”

“Impulse,” Grian says warningly, “if you’re about to tell me you started this whole paranormal investigation group just as a way to push me and Scar into confronting our feelings, I swear-”

“No, no,” Impulse assures him, chuckling. “I really do like the ghost-hunting deal, don’t worry. But uh, we did deliberately ditch you guys in the hopes that something would happen.”

Scar waggles his eyebrows. “Oh, things happened, alright.”

“Scar!” Grian swats at him, but he’s laughing and it feels good. It feels right. After all this time spent worrying about worst-case scenarios, about denying his feelings for the sake of maintaining the comfortable mundanity of his comfortable life, it turns out the scariest part was the fear itself.

The irony doesn’t escape his notice. A bit on the nose, if he’s honest.

“But in even bigger news,” Impulse graciously continues, “you saw the ghost? And you believed it? You, Mr. Non-Believer in all things ghostly?”

Grian sighs. “Yeah, yeah, I know…”

“This is incredible!” Skizz claps his hands together. “Okay, okay, we gotta go cleanse the area and I wanna hear everything, got it? Don’t leave a single detail out!”

Grian slips his hand into Scar’s as they follow Impulse and Skizz back up the stairs. “Yeah, alright,” he relents. He supposes he’s due for a lot of ‘I told you so’s’. But really, it’s a small price to pay for the life-altering knowledge that ghosts are real… and for finally finding the courage to believe in something extraordinary.

Scar hums. “Wait, details about the ghost or about the kissing?”

“Scar!”

~*~

#hermitcraft #hermitshipping #scarian #my writing #listen i am only a casual phasmo enjoyer and idk anything about architecture school pls don't come for me abt any inaccuracies #just here for a good gay spooky time #wanted to see if i'd be any good at writing commissions (ie. solely based off someone else's idea) and i had FUN #but it's always easy to be inspired by mel <3

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nevernonline · 9 months

Text

✧.* must love dogs; csc one shot.

✧.* synopsis: after a breakup (three years ago) your friend finally attempts to get you back on the saddle by creating you a dating profile despite your protesting, hooking you up on dates with some of the eligible bachelors of their choice, none of which impressed you. until one day you met the boy with the dog.

part of my seventeen movie series.

paring: seungcheol x reader (y/n uses she/her pronouns.)

genre/s: fluff, strangers2lovers

warning/s: alcohol mentions, swearing, cigarette mentions, swearing, some pg-13 jokes.

word count: 3.7k

note: im notorious atp for not editing, pls. I hope you enjoy my lil must love dogs inspired fic, its one of my fav movies!! xo.

“So how was bachelor number five?”

With a roll of your eyes, you gazed at your friend Seungkwan resting his feet on top of your shared glass coffee table, ticking the tip of the city guide book and magazines rested on top.

“Boring. He was nice or whatever, good looking, but he wouldn’t shut up about league of legends and his job. Other than that he asked me no questions about myself or what I do. A failure as most would call it.”

“So I take it you wouldn’t want to go out with him again?”

“God, whatever gave you that impression? I thought you could tell we were headed for marriage?”

“Hey. I’m doing you a very nice thing, you don’t have to be so sarcastic about it.”

“Look, I know. But just because Jun is getting married and I still haven’t moved on doesn’t mean I need to be dating all of the sudden.”

The boy patted the seat next to him. Scooching over from his spot, making room for you on the couch.

“ It’s been nearly three years since you ended it with him. At least fuck someone before you dry up.”

“That’s fucking gross and what vibrators are for.”

A small scream left your friend's mouth as he covered his ears trying to remove what he had just heard coming out of your mouth.

“Y/n his wedding is in two months, we need to find someone to bring that’s not me. You don’t want to feel the embarrassment of his pity party and everyone feeling sorry for you.”

“Why can’t you just be my date?”

“Too obvious. Plus your whole family will be there, just do it or you know your parents will be in your case again. This ‘ secret man’ you’ve been seeing doesn’t exist and I think your Mom is starting to catch on.”

He was right. Your parents come from a high status, as do your ex boyfriends, they were the reason you both had met and became friends in the first place. But, when your relationship ended you lied to them, it was working well until you got a call from your very upset mother telling you Jun showed up to your house with his family and a girl on his arm that wasn’t you.

“Okay, then why can’t I choose my own date?”

“The men you chose to quote on quote date are literally disturbing, I’m sorry but it’s the truth. Like that one dude you brought here last time? Whatever the fuck his name was literally was wearing a necklace vial of his own blood and claimed drinking your own urine and reusing water is the only way we can save the planet.”

“Okay, but he was nice.”

“He literally didn’t flush the toilet because he only went number one. That’s fucked, no.”

“Can I at least, like at the very least have some approval over the men you match me with then?”

“Maybe.”

“ Kwanie, please. Come on, don’t make me use the what goes around card, it’s my turn”

“No, it's absolutely my turn.”

“Not true, you wasted it two months ago when I had to bail you out of that strange house party orgy thing by saying your dog died and coming in crying to a bunch of naked strangers. You owe me.”

“Valid.”

“How did you not realize what that party was anyway?”

“This is not currently about my life failures, but yours my beautiful friend.”

Laughing at Seungkwan's major mishap, you forgot to greet your dog, Lucky. She was waiting and crying at your feet, finally waking up from her sweet slumber to greet you.

“Hello my baby, do we have to go outside?”

“She went for a walk this afternoon, but after her dinner she crashed so she probably wants a walk. I can go if you want to change or shower.”

“No it’s alright, I can take her, you're already in your pj’s and after my date I need a distress, want anything from the mart?”

“Ice cream?”

With a small nod you jumped up, taking the small curly creature in your arms and grabbing her harness before heading back outside into the warm spring air.

Ten minutes into your evening stroll, you decided to sit on the green wooden bench overlooking the water, the same bench your grandmother always spoke about when you asked her the same story about how she and your grandfather got engaged. The gold plaque with their names rubbing off sitting behind your back.

Suddenly you heard a man yelling from behind you, running through the green grass lit up with fluorescent lights.

“Hey, Kkuma, no come back.”

A small white dog came up behind Lucky sniffing her and starting to play, you noticed her cute hairclip and ran your hands through her fur.

“God, I’m sorry. She normally doesn’t run off like that.”

“It’s okay my dog lov-“

As you turned around to look into the round eyes of the owner, you were stunned with how beautiful he was.

His dark hair pushed under a cap, a white t-shirt too big for his frame sitting beautifully in his toned shoulders, and his red sweatpants matching his shoes.

The unfamiliar man was bending down now petting your precious pet and his own at the same time talking to them in sweet baby voices.

“This is Kkuma by the way, and you are?”

“Y/N”

“Hi y/n, you’re so cute, you and kkuma can be best friends if your mom lets you.”

You let out a roaring laugh realizing he thought you had introduced your pet and not yourself.

“Oh sorry, did I say something wrong?”

“No, no. It’s just I’m y/n this is Lucky sorry my fault.”

“Oh god, cool. Sorry Lucky, I’m Seungcheol. You can call me Cheol and this is Kkuma.”

“Nice to meet you Cheol and Kkuma.”

“You too. Look I know I just met you and all, but I’m new to the area. I was wondering if you’d want to get coffee and let the girls hangout sometime?”

“Oh. Yeah, of course. Let me give you my number.”

Seungcheol handed you his cell phone with a new contact page pulled up giving you full reign to type your name and number into his list.

Handing the device back to him your fingers touched, creating an electric shock, to not like you to believe in signs, but for some reason it felt like the universe trying to tell you something.

“Thank you, I’ve actually got to get going, but if you're free tomorrow would you want to grab coffee and hangout at the dog park?”

“Yeah, totally. Just text me a time, we can just meet here. What kind of coffee do you drink? There’s a good spot by my apartment. I can just pick it up for us.”

“Wow, that’s so nice of you. Just a black americano is cool or a cold brew whichever.”

“No fun I see.”

“How would you know that? Just because I don’t like sugary drinks doesn’t mean I can’t have fun.”

“I don’t know, we will see.”

“We will. I’ll catch you tomorrow girls.”

“Nice to meet you.”

“You too!”

Seungcheol left the same way he came running through the grass with Kkuma on his heels, following him all the way back to their home.

Strolling back down the pathway back to your apartment, you could help but feel butterflies in your stomach, you knew nothing about the man you just met other than his name and his cute dog, but there was a lot of unknown.

Smiling like a Cheshire Cat, you unlocked the front door and watched Lucky sprint back into Seungkwan lounging on the couch, eating for the ice cream you had forgotten.

“Where’s the snacks? Also why are you smiling like an idiot you’re freaking me out.”

“We met a guy with his dog, a very cute guy might I add, who actually asked for my number and wants to get coffee tomorrow.”

“ What the fuck, it’s late tell me he doesn’t live in the park?”

“No he said he just moved to the area, he was clearly not a park dweller he had keys, and smelt amazing actually.”

“Smelling strangers? A new low even for you”

“Oh my god, fuck off.”

Seungkwan pulled his phone out and opened various social media apps preparing himself for best friend stalking duties.

“What’s his name?”

“Seungcheol, not sure about his last name, but he goes by Cheol and his dog was Kkuma.”

“Great.. okay, found him I assume?”

“What the fuck, how? Let me see.”

“Eager aren’t we?”

“Fuck off?”

Grabbing Seungkwan's phone from his grip, you scroll quickly through the new faces' social media.

“Yeah, it’s him.”

“Okay, let me see. Wait, he's actually hot AND seems to have his own business?”

“Oh my god.”

“Here, look”

After the next few hours, you and your friend stumble on into your separate rooms preparing yourself for slumber, which never seems to reach you and before you know it dawn is creeping its way through your curtains, and your backup preparing yourself for a day with you and Lucky's new friends.

Something about your energy was excitable and nearing frantic, you could wait to step outside into the fresh air with your pocket sized princess at your side, but it was still early.

You had decided on pampering yourself for this morning, finding the need to make yourself up, you spread on your skin care with glee, drew perfect lines of eyeliner and strained your hair, pulling it up into a nice tight ponytail the hair tie matching the taupe tone of your sweat suit perfectly. Before you knew it it was 9:45 a perfect time for you and Lucky to step outside the door.

Placing her in her tote bag, you stepped inside of your favorite coffee shop, the light pink walls covered in photos and paintings, the smell of the espresso seemed sweeter.

“Morning, y/n you look beautiful today. Would you like the usual?”

“Thank you, for me, yes. But can I also get a large americano, just black and he didn’t tell me iced or hot, so iced is good I think? Or maybe hot with a cup of ice on the side? If that’s okay?”

“He? Did you finally start dating someone?”

“Oh no, just a friend of mine. Seungkwan told you shit about me didn’t he?”

“Yes. Sorry.”

“No worries, can I actually get two of the plain croissants and two of the flower dog cookies too?”

“No problem, it’ll be right out.”

“Thank you.”

Taking a seat next to the pick up counter you scrolled through the instagram of the boy you’re meant to be meeting, telling yourself it’s just to remember his face, but really it was to get a peek into what else he’s into or if he was single.

“Y/N”

“Oh shit, sorry. Thank you guys, see you tomorrow.”

Picking up the paper coffee carrier and pastry bag, you waved goodbye to the baristas and briskly walked back to the bench you were at yesterday, your bench, spotting the back of Seungcheol’s head watching the water with his dog.

“Hey. Sorry I’m late.”

“Oh, no problem. I just got here.”

Placing your items down on the bench, you freed her bag and greeted Kkuma alongside her before taking your seat.

“Here’s your coffee, I wasn’t sure if you wanted hot or iced so I got you a cup of ice too just in case, a croissant, and a little treat for your girl too.”

“Wow thank you so much, hot is fine actually. How are you?”

“Good, nervous. I mean it’s not every day you meet a stranger for coffee.”

Seungcheol laughed, tipping his head back slightly before taking a bite of his pastry.

“Sorry. I know it’s weird, you just seemed like someone I wanted to get to know, and Kkuma liked you so I figured you’re good people.”

“Well, thank you. You too. Lucky generally does not like men other than my friend Seungkwan, my dad, and my ex-boyfriend so consider yourself special.”

“I do.”

“So what brought you to this neighborhood? Work, a relationship?”

“No relationship, but actually my business partner is from here. We decided to open our warehouse and stuff here because it’s much better than doing it in the city. We have a spirit company and we’re planning on opening a brewery and bar, so that’s why I’ve been working late nights. I guess it served me well, I made a friend on my first day.”

“You’ve only been here for a full day? What the hell? You already know the best spot in town. What kind of stuff do you guys make?”

“Beer and soju mainly, we’ve been working on it for five years now and are finally at a spot to open up and start selling it to people, which is cool. But what about you? What do you do?”

“I’m a medical student actually, my parents are both doctors, I used to really want to be one too, but I don’t know, I don’t really have the same passion for it as I used to.”

“Well what would you do if you had the choice?”

“I always wanted to design stuff for dogs, start a rescue, anything like that. I got so happy seeing Kkuma as an accessory girl.”

“Yeah, she’s very stylish. I think you should go for it, you know? Why waste time becoming something for someone else and risk being unhappy just for their sake?”

“Honestly I wouldn’t even know how to start a business on my own, let alone tell my parents.”

“Hey, I didn’t either and look where it’s gotten me.”

You turned back to the water, staring into the calm blue waters, trying not to go into your own head.

“You’re oddly inspiring, I’ll give you that much.”

“Thank you, y/n. You’re oddly sassy, I’ll give you that.”

“Shut up, I’m not.”

“You already tried to clock me by saying I’m no fun because I drink black coffee and you said oddly inspiring like a back handed compliment. You definitely are, but I like it.

“Good.”

You had continued your twice weekly hangouts with Kkuma and her dad for two weeks now, getting excited whenever the days roll around to see the two of them again, but you haven’t hung out once without them around, which made you wonder if your friendship or crush rather on this boy was only due to your dogs being friends themselves.

Seungkwan tried setting you up on more and more dates with more and more duds, he was starting to lose hope himself, knowing that the one person he could set you up with was Seungcheol but he didn’t want to overstep.

Strolling home from another failed connection, you decide to stop and have a beer before going home to give the dirty details to Seungkwan about who you had just met.

Pulling open the tab of one of your drinks from your six pack, you took a deep breath and sat down, feeling your eyes welling up with tears.

Another can opened as you went to take the first sip. A hand comes on your shoulders, whispering a boo in your ears.

“What the fuck!”

Jumping up from your seat the hand on your shoulder belonged to Seungcheol, the look in his eyes went from happy to concerned as he saw the small streaks of tears on your cheeks, you top now dribbled with spots of beer.

“I’m so sorry, are you okay?”

“Yeah, I’m good. Want a beer?”

“Sure, thanks. I’m sorry I scared you, I thought you heard me behind you.”

“It’s alright, I was in my own world anyway. You look nice, where are you headed?”

“Soft opening for my bar actually, I texted you, but I figured you didn’t respond because you were busy.”

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry, I would’ve loved to come. I was a bit preoccupied on an awful fucking date.”

“That bad, huh?”

“Worse.”

“Well the good news is you technically didn’t miss it, it doesn’t start for another twenty minutes and you’re dressed very nice. It worked out.

“Fuck I wish I paid more attention, I could’ve got you some flowers or something.”

“Next time. Will your roommate be alright taking care of Lucky?”

“Yeah of course, he knew I would be out tonight. I’ll text him just to be sure.”

“Cheers to hanging out without our kids?”

“Definitely.”

With that suddenly your awful night and doubts about your relationship with the raven haired boy went out the window.

“Shall we?”

“We shall.”

Seungcheol lent his arm out for you to wrap your own around, and you both stayed out that way for a few moments, before discarding your cans and walking the way to his new venture.

“Here it is, you ready?”

“When you told me you were opening this up I thought you hadn’t even started? But it looks like it’s fully ready.”

“Ah, well we had planned to wait a bit, but we’re getting too antsy, so here we are.”

“It’s beautiful, holy shit.”

“Thanks, sit here, I’ll be right back.”

You took a seat on the green leather booth, looking around and taking in the ambiance of the custom lighting and ribbon like wallpaper, when a blonde gentleman walked over sitting down across from you.

“Y/n? Right?”

“Yeah, nice to meet you…”

“Jeonghan, I’m Cheol’s business partner.”

“Jeonghan, right. Nice to finally meet you, I’ve heard a lot.”

“Likewise, you’re so much prettier than Cheol let on actually.”

“Oh?”

Without a chance to interrogate the new face further Seungcheol walked back over to your table, setting down a few bottles of various spirits for you to try, including a couple of cocktails.

“He didn’t scare you too much did he?”

“Not at all, he was just telling me actually how much prettier I am than you alluded to.”

“Jeonghan, don’t do that to her, come on. You know very well I told you she was pretty, I even showed you her instagram, you agreed.”

“I know, I just wanted to make you tell her yourself and my job is done, see you around y/n.”

“Nice to meet you.”

As Jeonghan left the table you felt your cheeks growing with heat, unsure if it was the alcohol or the fact that Seungcheols friend made him confess he thought you were good looking.

“Sorry about him, he’s a menace.”

“No need to be sorry, I have my own menace at home and I don’t mean my dog.”

Seungcheol laughed, pouring you a shot of his very own soju to taste, filling with anticipation hoping you enjoy the drink he’s serving you, looking for your approval became a big part of his mind lately.

Lifting your glass up to his and clinking them together, the liquor poured down the back of your throat filling your mouth with sweetness and warmth.

“Holy shit.”

“Good holy shit or bad holy shit?”

“No, very good. That’s actually delicious. It’s so clean and fresh.”

“That makes me so happy to hear.”

“I’m happy you’re happy.”

“Okay, beer next. This is just a standard sour, some lime and sea salt, sort of beach vibes.”

“Sounds amazing, okay.”

Tipping your head back you sipped at the foamy top of the glass, savoring the flavors in your mouth.

“I hate you so much.”

“What? Why?”

“Seungcheol, you're way too humble when you talk about your business, this shit is amazing. I said I hate you because I’m going to crave this shit and I’ll have to see you all the time.”

“I thought you liked seeing me all the time?”

“You’re okay.”

“I have to say it’s cool to be here with you without the dogs, not that they distract too much, but they definitely take away giving you my full attention.”

“I mean how could they not, they’re cute as fuck,”

“So are you.”

“Wow, two drinks in Cheol and you’re already calling me cute? I wonder what else you’ll say the more you drink?"

“Technically we’re four drinks in, but I guess I remember the time I spent with you more than you do. Did those drinks on the bench mean nothing to you?”

“Oh fuck, I did forget. I guess technically I’m five drinks in then, catch up, bitch.”

You and Seungcheol spent the rest of the night being greeted by his friends, most of them already assuming who you were, letting you know that Seungcheol talks about you more than you realized.

Feeling your blood alcohol content rising, you decided to take a step outside and refresh.

The bell of the door opened up behind you, putting you face to face with his cherry lips once again, watching them light up a hand rolled cigarette to his lips.

“Doing okay?”

“Yeah, just wanted to step out for a second. Are you good?”

“Very. Want a cig?”

“No, I’m good for now. Ask me again later.”

“So will there be a later? You’re not ditching me now?”

“I’d never do that.”

“So, y/n does this maybe get me a chance to take you on a date? I’m kind of drunk so I’m feeling oddly bold.”

“Is this not sort of a date?”

“I was hoping you thought so. Is that a yes?”

“Absolutely. I thought you’d never ask.”

“Before we go on our date though, y/n. I have one final question?”

“Yes?”

“Do you still think I’m boring?”

“A little.”

Seungcheol grabbed your waist and spun you around, causing his perfectly rolled tobacco to fall on the sidewalk.

Blissfully you were giggling and laughing under the red led lights of his bar.

“Take it back.”

“Nope.”

“Please.”

You looked into his puppy dog eyes and did something out of your comfort zone. Wrapped your hands loosely around his neck, placing a deepened kiss onto his lips.

His mouth tasted of cigarettes and salt with a hint of vanilla from the lip balm he always had on him.

“Is that a good ‘sorry I called you boring’ kiss?”

“It’ll do for now.”

“Good. They’ll be more where that came from.”

“Promise?”

“Pinky promise.”

You and Seungcheol unwrap from each other, finding Jeonghan standing and cheering in the window watching the two of you.

“Can’t believe I got a hot date and a sister for Kkuma all in one.”

“You lucky dog.”

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bnhaficsforthesoul · 2 months

Text

Dabi and Shigaraki Soulmate AU

Dabi

Your soulmate's name is tattooed on your skin

you live in a world where everyone over the age of 16 has a name written on their body somewhere, belonging to their soulmate

always an exciting day, and you were ecstatic as you searched your body in the mirror to find the words as they popped up

soon, along your collar bone, the name you were looking for finally appeared

Touya Todoroki

you had heard of the todoroki family, Endeavor was the number 2 hero after all, and you knew he had children. Possibly this soulmate was one of them?

however you found very little information on his children's identities, but you were hopeful that you would find something eventually

however, you do eventually find a few articles from a few years ago that tell you the worst news you could imagine - touya todoroki had died in a fire

it's been years now, you're in your early 20s, and have mostly accepted the fact that you'd never get your soulmate. you hoped to find someone one day you could still love like one, but most people aren't super into dating someone with a visible reminder that they don't belong together

over these years, you've made your way into being a small villain as well. no one serious, it happened mostly out of necessity, but you're a villain nonetheless

which helps lead you to an almost dorky looking little group of villains, rightfully called the league of villains to keep up with the dorky appearance

none of them really seem all that serious, kind of just seem like a bunch of people who have no where else to go, which you can't judge them for

toga, a cute younger girl who had quickly turned friendly with everyone there, was fascinated with the idea of soulmates. you didn't blame her, she had only recently gotten her name, but this led her to asking everyone if they had met theirs yet, what their names are, anything about them.

most people didn't want to talk about it, and the ones who did didn't have anything interesting to say. your leader insisted that soulmates were a waste of time, and the emo looking dude by him agreed

you felt bad that toga wasn't getting the conversations she was looking for though, and you decided you'd show her yours.

"Touya todoroki? isn't that that pro heros last name? Do you think your soulmate is a hero?"

you shook your head, smiling sadly as you told her "no, he's been dead for years. never even met the dude"

she frowned, feeling sad for you, and changing the convo made you miss the wide eyed stare directed at you from across the room

dabi, who had caught your name earlier but blew it off as a coincidence since you only said your first name, was actually stunned

when he was younger, he dreamed of a happy life with his soulmate, but after waking up from the coma he barely ever spared a thought about them

now, here you were, right in front of him and clearly sad about the idea that you didn't have a soulmate

and for the most part, he was so fucking grateful that you had no way of knowing who he was. hearing his name made the smallest part of him want to get to know you, but he has more important things to do. plus, realistically, he doesn't know you. he doesn't owe you anything

so he never said anything. never even gave a hint of who he was. you two did get close over time, always relying on one another for help and support

it wasn't until probably a year later when in a fight dabi gets badly wounded, he's unconscious, and you're panicking, where things begin to unravel

he clearly has a huge gash in his torso, and your main focus is stopping the bleeding, so you cut open his clothes as you need to and begin fixing him up as best as you can

in the middle of doing this, you see what looks like a tattoo along his ribs. and you think nothing of it, till you realize it's his soulmate mark. he's never mentioned anything about his soulmate, and you couldn't help your twinge of jealousy at the idea of someone out there being his soulmate.

even if you couldn't have your real soulmate, you've come to really care about dabi since you've met him. you don't know if you love him, but you at least have a little secret crush

so, you take a peek, and you get dizzy when you see what it says.

that's your name. your full name. exact.

you're stunned, speechless, can't even process how you feel right now.

and as dabi starts to wake up, and he asks what you're doing, you can't help but weakly say "Touya?"

he mentally curses, immediately realizing you saw his mark. but he can't do anything about it now, and he's kind of stuck laying here with you as you keep him from dying

"...yeah, that's me"

you're confused, you ask him why he never told you, you're rambling out questions and he can't even keep up with it.

'listen, when we met, I heard toga read that name off your chest. I see it almost every day. I've known this whole time, but before, and even now, I have plans I have to carry out. back then I didn't tell you because I couldn't be bothered to care with you, but now I didn't want to tell you because I wouldn't know what to do. I can't promise love, or even being alive, and it seemed easier for you just thinking he, or I, was dead."

you stared at him, processing everything

"I'm sorry. I shouldn't have looked without your permission... but, I want you to know that I won't force anything on you. If you want a relationship, I'm more than happy. I'm happy with whatever you give me, even if nothing changes. I just ask that you don't push me away."

he nodded, and told you he promised to keep you around as much as possible, and that was that

he still didn't know what he wanted to do with you, but you grew more attached every day until you could say with certainty that soulmate or not, you were in love with him.

nothing would come of this for a long time though, maybe a few nights of make out sessions with too much sexual tension, but no real talk of feelings or relationships.

you grew kind of comfortable with it like this, even if sometimes you wanted a more stereotypical relationship with all the dumb sappy stuff, you had thought you didn't even have a soulmate for so long that just being near him was a blessing

dabi decided he didn't want to think of you as a soulmate. he didn't want to think he had any sort of obligation to love you or treat you a certain way. if anything was going to come of this, it would be of his own will. not the universes.

which is why it took so long, dabi could always admit you were attractive, and over time you were a great friend and someone he could truly care about, but he didn't know If he LOVED you, he didn't know if he could feel that serious for you

so it took some time, and took some real thinking for him decipher his weird complex feelings towards you, until eventually he decided that yes, he could love you.

but he wanted to wait until he did love you to do anything. and also, your existence didn't change the fact that he had plans and goals he needed to see through

so now, he's just done his big reveal, now the whole world knows who he is, and even though he didn't kill his brother like planned, he still deems it a somewhat success

he's elated to at least have come this far, he could do the rest next time, but right now all he can focus on is how happy you are for him. both for him and that he came out okay somehow. he had told you about his past in little bits, so you didn't need to 'comfort' him in any way, even though it hurt you to think about how awful his life has been

but he has his head on your lap as he stares up at your face, focused as you help him fix the staples for the new scars that have formed from this fight, and he felt so truly comfortable right now.

he has no stress, he had no anxiety about the future, it was just you and him right now.

'I love you, you know'

he spoke so casually, as if you hadn't been waiting your entire life to hear him say those words

in your head you were screaming, crying, everything. but all you could say was

'I love you too'

Shigaraki

You and your soulmate can communicate in your dreams

ever since you were little, every single dream you had consisted of you and a little boy, together in a white room

some of your furthest memories of these dreams were quiet as the two of you kind of just stared at each other, saying nothing

but you recall as one day, you finally said hi. you told him your name, and asked his.

he seemed shy, and nervously scratched at his neck as he answered you, telling you his name was 'Tenko Shimura'

there's blurry memories of you talking to him more and more, learning more about this kid, until he disappeared for a couple weeks

to you, these are just dreams, so you don't think too much of it until he eventually does come back but very different than you remember

the shy expression on his face turned into one of shell shock almost, and his hair had turned completely white

you tried asking what happened, but for a good few weeks (even though he only popped up maybe 5 times at most), he didn't even look at you.

eventually, he did speak, but all he really said was that he got his quirk, and he did something bad

for years after that, you rarely ever saw him. as you grew older you assumed it was because you were growing out of your 'imaginary friend' phase, but every night your dreams always consisted of that empty white room.

eventually you reach high school, and your mental health takes a tank. you can barely sleep, you can barely do anything. so you end up on a night owl schedule, sleeping all day on weekends, up all night every night, and barely sleeping on school days.

and for the first time in probably years, you saw tenko again.

both of you seemed actively surprised at seeing one another, and you can't help but notice how much he's grown as well

he's obviously older, probably the same age as you, his hair has gotten a little longer, his skin doesn't seem to have improved any which makes you a little sad that he hasn't seen a doctor yet, and he looks unhealthily lanky

he's clearly eyeing you too, he kind of forgot that he ever had a partner of sorts in this weird dream world having not seen you in so long

'why are you here?'

'I don't know, because I'm asleep right now i guess'

'do you always sleep during the day? I'm guessing your in Japan too, right?'

'I sleep whenever I want, but usually I'm up all night. and yes, im in japan'

this made you realize something, so you asked 'are you a real person?'

'unfortunately'

this very well could be just a part of your dream. but it makes sense that he very much is another living person. so you want to test it

'hey, I wanna try something. would you be willing to try and go to sleep at the same time?'

he made a weird face at you, clearly confused, 'why would I do that?'

'because this is cool! if you really are a real person, and not just some dream boy, then it'd be fun to have someone to talk to. and if we sleep at the same time, we have all night together'

'why should I care'

'do you have anything better to do in here?'

he was silent, you were right. your dream world wasn't kind enough to give you anything to do, and even tho it didn't necessarily feel like you were in there for hours, it still was a good while to be sitting in an empty white room doing nothing

'fine. what time'

figuring that the only respective time was at night, you had to shift your whole schedule around again, but this led to more frequent meetings with each other

it wasn't every night, there were some nights where he couldn't be bothered to go to bed, or you were too busy to do so, but you saw each other a lot more consistently now

most of the time, you were leading these conversations, asking him questions about his life and stuff, and he answered fairly vaguely unless it was something he actually cared to talk about

which you found was video games. that's all he really did, especially League of Legends

so you made an effort to play some of these games, that way you could understand what he was talking about or talk about the lore with him

for a couple years, you two were best dream friends, even though you never met irl. you always considered asking if you could meet, but he seemed nervous when you asked if you could actually play a game together at some point so you dropped it

as much as he had grown to love these dream times, he was scared to meet you in person. in dreams, there was still a layer of protection between you and him. in real life, you actually get to meet the true and real him.

plus, as he got older, AFO had more and more expectations for him, and soon the League of Villains was formed

this caused him to be busy a lot more, which meant he slept less, which caused his time in the dream world to dwindle again

you understood, you're 20 years old and have your own things to do, but you do miss him when he isn't there

the highlight of your day is seeing him, honestly

however, a few months later, you're scrolling on your phone and you see some news about villains, nothing new really, but a picture included peaks your interest

it's kind of blurry, but the man in the picture of one of the members of this group or villains looks very similar to tenko

and within the next few weeks, as the league becomes more active, more pictures come out and eventually you're positive - that's your dream boy

you honestly don't really care he's a villain all that much, you aren't particularly fond of most heroes, and you can't help but want to go to him

so, you find a way, and with stains message sparking more people to want to join the league it makes it a lot easier for you to do so

as you make your way into this weird little bar, you don't see him at first, you see a few other members who mostly don't really care that you're there. which is fine to you, you're not here for them

you're ready to ask one of them where Tenko is, however, until he turns the corner and makes his way into the room

luckily for him, he notices you before you can yell out his name in excitement, and he loudly says your name in confusion

you run over to him, smiling huge seeing him. you open your mouth, ready to speak, but before you can he tells you to come with him, so you do

he leads you deeper into the base, into what you suspect is his room. it's kind of gross, with dirty clothes and trash everywhere, but you ignore it for now

'why are you here'

it kind of hurts your feelings that he isn't as excited to see you as you are him, but he never has been the most excitable person, so you try to keep that in mind

'I found out a while ago that you were here, and I was really hoping that it wasn't some doppelganger or that it wasn't just a coincidence that this dream person happened to look like a real person.'

'you shouldn't be here. you're not a villain'

'you don't know that. you never told me you were a villain'

he basically went :/ at you, he didn't know what to think really

on one hand, yes, he was excited to see you. but he didn't know what to do with you here. you didn't seem like a villain, maybe your quirk could be useful somehow, but did you even want to actually join the league?

plus, now there is no safety net between you two. and he's terrified. you're the only 'friend' he's ever had, even if it was in his head his whole life, and he doesn't want you to hate him or leave like everyone else

'if you stay here, you have to help. you answer to me. you work for my cause.'

'I can do that'

'also, my name... it's Tomura Shigaraki now. so don't use,, that other name'

you decided not to ask why, and just accepted the situation now.

so from day 1, you were his biggest supporter and friend. whatever your morals were before, you didn't really care now. you were happy here, with this weird little family, and especially with Tomura

every day while not working you were spending time with him, he finally let you play games with him, you were both happy

he started to learn just how much he truly cared about you, you're the only person he truly feels safe with. he feels like himself, you give him the chance to feel happiness instead of just be consumed with hatred every day

'hey, y/n, do you ever wonder why we dream of each other?'

you had gone to sleep a few hours ago, but woke up when you felt weight on your bed, and opened your eyes to see Tomura sitting there staring blankly at the wall

'yeah, I haven't really heard of it before, and I haven't asked anyone since I was little. but they all told me it's just dreams, nothing special'

he said nothing, but he turned to look at you now.

'but, I feel like it has to mean something. something important. it led me to the most important person in my life.'

he couldn't help but smile as you said that, and he nodded, 'I agree. I used to not care about it that much. but I'm glad I got to meet you, in my dreams and especially in real life.'

he was being especially open about his feelings for once, which you loved, but it was also confusing

'tomura, are you okay?'

he was quiet again, this time clearly thinking. you let him, fiddling with your fingers as you waited. you were nervous for some reason

'I don't know. I don't know what this feeling is. Just, you make me happy. nothing else makes me happy. you feel... safe, and warm. everyone else is so meaningless, but I don't know if I could keep going without you. I don't want you going on missions because you might not come back. I want to kill anyone who takes you away from me.'

he was rambling, clearly speaking his thoughts as they came, and your heart was melting the entire time. you didn't want to assume, but you were hopeful

'tomura, do you love me?'

that clicked in his brain. he couldn't word these feelings correctly in his head, but love sounded right. as far as he knew what love was supposed to be, he figured that yes, he did love you

so he nodded again.

'tomura.. I love you too'

he didn't know what to do now. he just sat there for a while, thinking about what this meant.

'can I hug you?'

'you know I can't touch you'

'it's okay, I trust you.'

as you hugged, you eventually felt the palm of his hand against your back, knowing he was being especially careful not to touch you.

'I'm going to let go now, if you want to move your hand.'

'not yet. I like this'

#the 2 loves of my life #soulmate au #bnha #mha #my hero academia #boku no hero academia #shigaraki #shigaraki imagine #shigaraki tomura #shigaraki x reader #shigaraki headcanons #shigaraki soulmate au #tenko shimura #dabi #dabi imagine #dabi x reader #dabi headcanons #touya todoroki x reader #touya todoroki

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jaiistg · 1 year

Text

Karma Akabane who is whipped for reader

"I guess I'm stuck forever by the glue, oh, and you"

•You and Karma met because of his and your's parents !! They knew that you two would get along so well,infact you two did get along...Maybe a little too well,to the fact he got attached to you.

•His parents shipped you both together when Young karma asked them why does his hard beats super fast whenever he sees you and wanting to always be by your side.HIS MOM WAS ALL LIKE "MY BABY BOY IS GROWING UP !!!"

•You and Karma are classmates on class 3-A, that was until this fucker got suspended and was now in class 3-E🙄 he would help you with subjects your struggling with.

•After his suspension he couldn't stop thinking about you like "how is she doing?" "Does she miss me?" One day he saw you hanging out with his one and only rival Asano Gakushuu.He didn't blame you since him and Assano🙄 were your only friends.

•He thought he was being slick with hiding his feelings for you that was until he got exposed by koro sensei because HE KEEPS DODDLING YOU ON HIS NOTEBOOK,he was so fluttered he can't even look at koro-sensei in the eye...tsk tsk hope you learn your lesson next time Karma~

•Ever since his classmates found out that he likes you THEY KEEP TEASING HIM AND HE CAN'T HELP BUT BLUSH😭.

•Everytime he sees you the world stops.Its as if you two are the only people in this world.This dude wants to approach you and ask how your doing but is too afraid because he hasn't spoken to you for a long time.

•Eventually,you guys talked and it felt like nothing has changed,He dosent know what he was so afraid of...

•He sometimes gets lonely on his house because his parents are always at work so he calls you and ask's if you can come over,and ofc you said yes.

•His house,the place where you guys first met and also the place where you guys became official<33.

•It turns out you guys are smitten for eachother but can't seem to confess to one another.How did they found out about each other's feelings? Truth or dare.Yeah you heared me right Truth or dare.

(name-chan) truth or dare he asked?

(name) can see his smirk.what is he up to now..? As she face palmed."Truth"

Have you ever liked someone in our school? Karma asked curiously secretly hoping she'd say yes and say it is him

(name) was caught of-guard.Since when did he care about things like this? She thought.

Fine,Yes I had a crush on someone.I still have a crush on them tho...She mumbled the last part but Karma can hear it.

Its your turn now strawberry! Truth or dare (name) said excitingly

He can't help but find her cute."Dare,im not a coward like you!" He said jokingly

Hey!! (Name) said clearly offended."If you have a crush on someone can you text them and confess?"

"What."

"Pleaseeeeeeeeee"

Ofc he couldn't say no to her.So he did it.

Wait someone texted me (name) said

She was shocked.She looked up from the screen and saw karma smiling at her with a tint of blush on his cheeks.

"Is this....True?"

"Duhh,why would I lie to you about what I feel?" he said chuckling but also serious about what he said

I..."

"you?

"I like you too."

"HUH ARE YOU FOR REA-"

•Has he died and went to heaven?? Are you sure you'll go to heaven? Lmaooalakka THE (NAME) LIKES HIM BACK??? SOMEONE SAVE THIS MAN FROM PASSING OUT.

•And yeah! That's what happened, after you two became official you guys told both of his and your's parents !! They were happy that you two got together.

#Spotify #karma akabane x reader #karma x reader #karma akabane #karma #assassination classroom #assassination classroom x reader #karma headcannons #karma akabane x you

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moremaybank · 2 years

Note

Can I request pls where JJ is raging, his friends try to calm him down but having no such luck. They don’t know that he has a girlfriend, you come by John B’s chateau to see his tantrum he is having in-front of his friends. Immediately you walk up, hugging him, everyone is confused and asking questions after you calmed the JJ maybank down. After the reader treats him with sex.. because he calmed down. Thank you so much, your writing is amazing!! ❤️❤️❤️🎉🎉🎉 would love to chat and support you x

SAFE HAVEN — j.m

pairing jj maybank x gf!reader

summary jj has an outburst at the chateau after a long and trying day, and you, his secret girlfriend, come to quell his rage.

warnings 18+, mentions of abuse (fuck luke maybank fr), mentions of bruises, violence, jj smashing beer bottles with a baseball bat, kicking his dirt bike, getting into a fight with john b (even though i wrote this i still feel bad for jb cus he was just trying to help LMAO), unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it, don't be like every single fic i write💀)

author's note thank you for the love, babe! i hope this lives up to your expectations 🤍

jj masterlist

from the moment jj had reached the chateau, the pogues knew something was wrong. he practically threw his bag onto the floor when he walked in, slammed both doors (once upon entry, the other when he made his way into the backyard), and instead of ranting about his day, all he did was grumble things incoherently to himself — angrily so.

it wasn't long before the group heard the loud crashes of glass shattering onto the ground. they walked outside to find jj taking an old baseball bat to the copious empty beer bottles littered all over the outside of the chateau. with each swing of the bat, the group flinched as they tried to avoid getting cut by the glass.

"jj! stop! what the hell is going on?!" pope yelled over the loud crashing noises. but it was no use. jj was far past angry, his actions being enough to show for it.

then, jj moved on to kicking at his dirt bike. the bike fell onto the ground with a loud clatter, but jj's efforts didn't falter. "f-fucking. piece of shit. bike." he yelled, the words being punctuated with each punt of his foot. he kicked and kicked at it with enough force that it could end up injuring him.

"someone should go and stop him before he gets hurt. he's gonna break his ankle or something," said kiara, a look of panic on her face as she all but watched steam coming out of jj's ears. "something's seriously wrong, i've never seen him like this."

"i have, but it's only ever been because of..."

pope and kiara looked over at john b as he trailed off and took note of the panicked look washing over his features.

"because of what?" kie asked.

john b sighed, "any time he gets like this, it's because of luke."

"oh shit," pope replied, his eyes going back to jj as he grunted violently. "we gotta talk to him."

"i got it," john b said, his hand squeezing pope's shoulder firmly in reassurance before he began to make his way toward the furious blonde.

once he reached his best friend, he called out his name numerous times. "jj! jj! hey! calm down," he said, his hands finding jj's body as jj calmed down slightly. jj's chest heaved as he slowly came to a stop, a hand coming up to move some hair from his eyes. "j, talk to me," john b pleaded.

"get off me, man," jj gruffed, shrugging john b's hands off of him.

"what is it? is it your dad? is that it? is it luke?"

with that, jj snapped. he spun around, grasping the collar of john b's shirt and using it to slam him against one of the trees around them. "don't fucking talk about things you don't know, jb," he gritted through his teeth.

"so this is what you're doing now? you're turning to violence just like him? dude, you're better —"

before john b had the chance to finish what he was saying — which was that he knew jj was better than that — jj's strong fist collided with his face. blood began to trail down john b's lips from his nose, but this didn't stop jj from trying to cave john b's face in.

all jj could hear was white noise as he took his anger out on his best friend. he failed to register pope and kiara calling after him, trying to get him to stop. he didn't feel their hands wrapping around him in a desperate attempt to yank him off of john b, or john b trying to push him off. he was locked in a fit of rage.

until he heard your voice, that was.

"jj? what the hell is going on?"

his breath hitched, and he looked over his shoulder to find you looking at him with a concerned look on your face. he released john b and finally got off of him. his eyes found yours and he dropped to his knees. it wasn't long before body-racking sobs jerked through his body. tears were streaming down his face as he just sat there, exhausted from all the energy he exerted during his outburst. his hands came up to drag over his face upwards and into his hair. he tugged on the strands as he let his emotions take over.

"hey, hey, hey," you cooed, your legs moving quickly over to him as you crouched down in front of him. you cupped his face, your thumbs wiping over his cheeks softly to remove the tear stains. "talk to me, baby. what's wrong?"

"i—" he stuttered, his whimpering making it difficult for him to breathe. his throat was raw from the screaming and grunted, and it was bordering on painful. "i— i just—"

"it's okay," you assured him, stroking his hair. "come here."

you wrapped your arms around him, pulling him in for a much-needed hug. jj buried his face into your neck, and you could feel the tears staining the collar of your shirt as he let himself drown in his pent-up frustration. you rubbed his back in comfort, "it's okay, my love. let it out."

the group of pogues watched the two of you in utter shock and confusion.

"who is that?" pope questioned.

kiara looked back over at you, "is that — isn't that y/n? sarah's friend? are they, like, together?"

"hey, guys?" john b piped in, "i'm still undergoing massive blood loss over here."

"oh, right," pope said as he and kiara crouched back down to inspect john b's caved-in face and allowed you and jj to have your moment.

jj was still crying, his body jerking as he clutched onto you. you held him tighter, "that's it, baby. i'm right here. i'm not going anywhere. just let it all go."

once jj calmed down, the group approached you both gingerly. you turned your head to look at them, giving them an uneasy smile.

"oh, uh, hey guys. i'm y/n," you formally introduced yourself. "i'm...jj's—"

"she's my girlfriend," jj interjected. "we've been dating for a few months now."

the three pogues looked gobsmacked but mostly confused as they gawked at the two of you. to be honest, even in jj's emotional state, the looks on their faces were priceless. he almost wanted to whip his phone out and take a picture.

"wait. you're telling me jj is dating a kook? am i hallucinating?" kiara questioned.

"haha. very funny," jj spoke sarcastically.

"how did this even happen?" asked john b, his hand holding his sore face. "i mean, let's be real. this guy? with a girlfriend? i don't see it."

"you're literally looking at it right now, dude," jj frowned. "but, uh, i'm sorry, man. i shouldn't have hit you. i wasn't thinking," he said, making his way over to his best friend and patting his shoulder. "got you pretty good, though, didn't i?"

"that's because i wasn't trying," john b smirked. "but seriously, i'm glad you're okay. and you obviously have good taste in women. y/n seems pretty special."

jj smiled, looking back over to you as he blushed, "yeah. she is."

after some time, kiara, john b and pope had all left and headed to pope's house so they could tend to john b's cuts and bruises, as well as to give you two some time alone.

you and jj eventually made your way to his guest room in the chateau, and you were now lying together. his head rested on your chest as you toyed with his locks and rubbed your palms over his clothed skin calmly.

"thank you for coming to find me," jj whispered.

"hey," you spoke, guiding his head gently to make him look up at you. "i will always come and find you."

he gave you the biggest smile he could manage — which wasn't large by any means — but you could tell from the look in his eyes how much your words meant to him. how much you meant to him.

"do you wanna talk about it?" you asked. the last thing you wanted to do was pressure him, but you also wanted to make sure that he knew he could tell you anything without the fear of being judged. "you don't have to, but you can if you need to."

jj took a deep breath, shuffling his body upward to level your gaze. "i'm just tired of luke pushing me around. i just, i wish he could just love me. be a normal parent that cares, y'know?"

you gave him a look of understanding with a nod, turning onto your side to face him. "i'm sorry i can't help you more than this. you deserve so much more than this, j. i wish i could give it to you."

"you've already given me everything i need," he said, grabbing onto your hand and pressing a kiss to your knuckles. "i love you."

you couldn't help but break out into a smile, "i love you too." your hand found the back of his neck as you pulled his lips against yours.

the two of you kissed sweetly, jj's hand threading through your hair as he tugged you closer. the kiss deepened, creating the opportunity for something more, and soon, you found yourself absentmindedly crawling onto his lap as he perched himself against the headboard. before things could go any further, you pulled away, "wait."

"what's wrong?" jj asked, smoothing your hair away from your face.

you sighed, "you've been through a lot today, and i don't want to take advantage of that. i just want to make sure you're okay."

"i'm fine, princess," he said. he noticed the suspicious look on your face, and he chuckled softly. "i promise."

when you still weren't convinced, jj pulled you in for another kiss. a much softer one than before, gentle enough to let you know he was good without having to use his words. pulling away, he spoke once more with a tender plead.

"make love to me, baby," he whispered, "please."

you smiled bashfully. how could you say no to that? you couldn't.

"c'mere, handsome." you grabbed his face into your hands once more, pulling him into a passionate kiss. every brush of your lips against his was a silent i love you. a hushed reminder that every part of him was cherished by you, perfect or imperfect.

either way, though, to you, he was flawless. and you were going to take the time to make him believe that.

as the kisses escalated, your hands slid down the t-shirt that lay atop his chest and torso. the tips of your fingers felt the clothed dips of his abs as they made their way down to the hem. you tugged gently at it, waiting for his permission to take it off. jj pulled away, nodding quietly as he sat up from his place against the headboard. he shrugged the shirt off and shied away from your gaze. before you could ask him what was bothering him, your eyes landed on the purple-toned bruises scattered over his bare frame.

you looked back up at him, noticing the look washing over his features. you could see that he was ashamed, could tell he wanted to hide. it wasn't fair. he shouldn't have to feel the way luke made him feel, as if he was broken and unlovable. not when he deserved every ounce of love that existed on earth and more.

you trailed your fingers over the contusions that painted his torso with a feather-light touch, careful not to cause him any more pain, as you planted another gentle and quick kiss on his lips. pulling away, you started to scoot backwards as you trailed your light kisses down his neck, his collarbone and chest. when you reached the splotches on his skin, you kissed each of them, letting jj know that there was no reason to be embarrassed. your main goal was to shower him in the affection he craved so deeply.

when you were finished, his fingers threaded through your locks once more, and he brought your face to his so he could kiss you in thanks. you rid yourself of your shirt and your bra. jj's hands found purchase at your breasts, kneading them and watching your nipples harden. he ducked his head, bringing one of your perked-up nipples into his mouth. he sucked at it while his fingers recreated the same motion with his fingers on your other breast. you instantly arched into his touch, the feeling of his warm hands on you making you shiver. his teeth nibbled lightly on your nipple before he moved on to the other one, doing the same. you rolled your hips against the bulge confined in his shorts, pleading for more without using your words. jj got the message loud and clear.

"you want me to take these off?" jj asked, motioning toward his shorts. you nodded and moved off of his lap so you could help him remove the remaining articles of his clothing. he undid the button and zipper of his shorts, pulling them down with his boxers before tossing them aside. his cock sprang free, and he watched as your eyes landed on it.

"can i suck your cock, baby?" you asked, your doe eyes peering up at him as you waited for him to grant you permission.

"please, baby."

your hand circled him, and you spat onto his length, letting your tongue circle his tip to lube it up. your spit glided down his length, and you brought him into your velvety mouth, letting your warmth surround the place he yearned for you most.

jj watched as you brought his cock all the way to the back of your throat, and he practically drooled at the sight. you bobbed your head around him, each stroke of your lips squeezing him tighter and tighter.

"shit, baby. just like that. take me all the way," he groaned as you deep-throated him again. your tongue slithered against his shaft continuously, pulling the noises that you loved so much to fall from jj's lips. each lap and suck drew the stress he'd been feeling right out of his cock, and he could feel himself sinking further into the mattress below him.

your actions didn't waver as he started to lose control of his movements. his hips sputtered upwards as he writhed around on the bed, letting incoherent mumblings tumble out of his mouth.

"oh, fuck, pretty girl. shit. please don't stop, please," he pleaded, his hands grasping the sheets around him tightly and causing his knuckles to go white. "s-shit. don't stop."

you obeyed his pleading command, sucking and lapping at him with a suction-like grip. you let his cock nudge the back of your throat once more, and when he felt your throat squeeze around him, he erupted inside of you. his cum shot out and down your throat, and you swallowed around him. this had him seeing stars as he let his entire body drown in his release.

"fuck," he gasped, trying to get a hold of his bearings. "you trying to kill me, baby? shit," he spoke through his panting.

"just want to make you feel better, j," you said.

"i do. get over here," he said, yanking you up to straddle his lap again. you walked over to him on your knees, hovering right above his cock. jj braced one hand on your hip, and the other gripped his cock as he jerked it a few times, getting himself ready for you. "you good to go?"

"yeah," you exhaled, your hands finding their place on his shoulders. you felt his tip nudge your entrance, and you allowed yourself to sink down onto it. you and jj both let out simultaneous gasps once he was buried inside of you balls-deep.

you started to roll your hips, feeling his cock massaging your walls. it was like scratching a long-awaited itch as you felt him fill you up over and over. jj's hands found your hips, guiding your movements. his own hips matched each of your movements, and with every thrust, you both could hear the erotic noise of your jj pounding into your arousal. you were so wet, you were dripping, shamefully so, as you both quickened your movements.

"fuck, j. you feel so fucking good, love your cock so much," you whined, feeling him stroking against your g-spot. you noticed that compared to your normal endeavours, jj's actions were pretty tame. you wanted to make sure he got whatever he needed out of this, so your hands slid up to the sides of his neck, your thumbs stroking along his jawline. his eyes found yours.

"do me a favour, j?"

"anything, baby. anything," he breathed, keeping his gaze on you to ensure you knew that he was sincere.

“let it go. give all your pain to me. let me have it. i’ve got you, i promise,” you begged. it was a genuine promise, you knew that, and you hoped he did too.

jj began to pound up into you, his movements transitioning from slightly rough to borderline merciless. you squealed each time you felt the tip of him rut against your cervix.

"i love you, princess. fuck, love you so much," he grunted, his fingers squeezing your hips with so much force that you were sure he'd leave behind bruises. you couldn't bring yourself to care, though. you wanted him to let go and use you in whatever way he needed.

"i'm close, baby. right there, please," you begged, leaning your forehead against his as you felt your peak growing closer and closer. each bounce of your body against his caused your clit to rub against his pelvis, and it only spurred you on further.

"yeah? like that, pretty girl?" he questioned, keeping his pace up while he brought one hand to cup your face.

"mhm," you hummed, biting your lip as the pleasure took over your features. you connected your lips with his, kissing him intensely as you both started to climax. with each kiss, you swallowed each other's moans as your tongues collided passionately. the heat spread like a wildfire throughout the entirety of both your bodies, unable to be put out easily as neither of your actions faltered. not until you were finished riding out your highs.

once you caught your breath, you opened your eyes to look at your boyfriend, "how you feeling, baby? better?"

he smiled, pulling you in for another soft kiss. "much, baby. thank you. not just for this but for everything. i'm so goddamn lucky to have you."

you stroked his hair with a hazy grin, smoothing it away from his damp forehead so you could press a kiss on it.

"i'm the lucky one."

jj tag list (join here!): @maybankslover @kittyqrt @skydisneylover @v-velvetykisscs @hobiibobii @rafesdior @fool4him @hemogloban @pankhoeforlife @rafesmuse @lyn07

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mechaknight-98 · 5 months

Text

Uncanny (NSFW) FT: Arin

Author’s note: I like Arin as well but I went with a different approach.

A couple of days after what I guess you could call my "bullying" of Hyeju, our little friend group met up again, as we had planned. Arin and I ended up being late due to circumstances beyond our control—a rainstorm that felt almost biblical in its intensity. Arin laughed as we finally entered her car.

"You know, this reminds me of the time we fell for each other," Arin reminisced.

"Yeah, it was a cloudy morning like this," I responded.

"Cloudy? It was pouring," Arin corrected.

I raised an eyebrow. "Huh, oh, I guess that day has such a weird recollection in my head."

"Yeah, me too, but I distinctly remember the rain and seeing how soaked Jacob and you were," Arin replied. "To think we were at each other's throats, and in a split second, we were making out on the floor."

"Yeah, love is weird," I said.

Jacob was grinning ear to ear as we walked to his car. "We're going to this party—there will be girls, grub, and, best of all, games," he said excitedly. I nodded as I got in the car with him. The synthetic smell of maple and brown sugar bombarded me uncomfortably.

"Dude, do you have to have the most obnoxious air freshener?" I teased.

Jacob laughed before saying, "Oh, so you insult my taste, huh? Well, what if I were to tell you that shirt is terrible?" He teased back.

I smiled and responded, "Nope, you can't hurt me. I'm too excited—I've been watching them for so long, so finally going to see Core-A in person seems sick."

"Me too," he said as he started his car.

When he went to shift gears he gave a weird look and then said something odd, "Oh, one thing—don't be mad," he said.

I raised an eyebrow. "What is it?"

"Arin is going to be there," Jacob responded, and I died a little inside.

I groaned. "Is it too late for me not to go?"

"Dude, she's a 5'5'' girl. You'll be fine, Mr. Legendary Spell Fencer," Jacob reassured me. I scratched my hair nervously, thinking about possible outs.

"I don't know, the last time we met, we yelled at each other for two hours," I said.

"I remember—you guys sounded like an old married couple... Maybe that's it. Maybe you two like each other, but your minds misattribute the attraction with spite. Maybe the two of you just need to kiss, and the wires will be crossed correctly," Jacob suggested as he drove off, sealing my fate.

I rolled my eyes and confidently explained, "There is no way."

Jacob hesitated as if remembering something. "Well, remember how the first time you guys fought, afterward you were all hot and bothered thinking about her for two weeks? It was also weird because you would say all these nice things about her like 'How could someone so compassionate and smart be so damn pig-headed and boorish? I hate that vexing bitch.' You know, weirdly flirty stuff," Jacob said teasingly. I looked at him with an "Are you serious?" look. He laughed, of course.

"Hey, it's just a theory," he finished.

After that, for the most part, we rode in silence until we reached Core-A's studio and the location of the party. We got out of Jacob's baby blue VW Beetle, which he lovingly referred to as the "Love Bug" (which I believe is copyrighted, but I could be wrong). We walked into the purple venue, though the atmosphere breathed competition without the sweaty smell. The air was chilled to a comfortable level as we filed in along with a few others.

"Ah, Jac, glad you could make it," a tall Korean man said as he approached us. He hugged Jacob, who smiled, and then the man sized me up.

"You must be Daizohan?" the Korean man asked.

I nodded affirmatively. "I am."

He extended his hand and introduced himself, "Nice to meet you. My name is Gerald Lee."

I couldn't help but grin widely. "I know who you are. I'm a huge fan. I've watched all your channel's videos and loved what you have done, not only for the fighting game community but for competitive communities everywhere," I raved.

Gerald Lee smiled, then said, "Please, then enjoy yourself, make friends, eat, and have fun. I only ask that you be respectful. Some pretty public figures are roaming about who would like their privacy," I nodded in agreement.

"Sure thing, sir," I replied, to which he chuckled before walking away.

Jacob nudged me, pointing out, "Dude, I've never seen you smile that big."

I squinted at him, annoyed. "Jacob, that's one of my heroes."

Jacob laughed at my expense, "I can tell. Now, don't get too excited, but I think they have your favorite over there." I turned to see the familiar loading screen and couldn't contain my excitement. I lifted my hand in anticipation and walked over to the TV. It was exactly what I had hoped for: Tatsunoko VS Capcom. I sat down, feeling nostalgic as I hadn't played the game since childhood. Despite its age and my lack of recent practice, I was instantly transported back to the date of its release, a ten-year-old rediscovering his first fighting game and embarking on a decades-long love affair. I was engrossed in the game when I heard a voice asking,

"Hey, can I play with you?"

"Uh, yeah, sure. Let me just quit this arcade match," I said as I exited my current run-through of the mode.

"I'm surprised you've been so invested; you haven't moved once since sitting here," the voice remarked.

"Well, this is my second favorite game of all time," I explained.

I noticed the voice sitting next to me, intrigued. "Oh, what's the first?"

"Kingdom Hearts II," I replied.

"Oh, I hear a lot about how complicated those games are," the voice said.

I smiled, replying, "Well, they're usually less complicated than life, to be honest." The voice laughed, causing me to smile. It was feminine and pleasant, making me feel like I was at a calming beach.

"This is my first time playing this one, so I don't know how to play. Can you teach me?" the voice asked. I nodded and turned to face her, handing her the controller. Our hands touched, and then our eyes locked, sending my emotions into warp drive.

"Arin?"

"Daizo?"

Arin and I looked at each other with equally confused expressions before she abruptly stood up and said, "Bathroom. Now." I followed her, hoping to avoid a scene. Thankfully, no one saw us enter the furthest one from the party.

Arin and I silently glared at each other until she spoke first, "What the hell are you doing here?"

"Um, I was invited by Jacob," I replied.

I watched as Arin rolled her eyes, “Yeah, of course, he'd invite you. God, I hate you cameramen sometimes.”

Unaware of the growing feelings within, I gave her the response she wanted, “Damn it, why are you always so mean? Like, what did I do to you?”

Arin rolled her eyes and teased, “You? Please. I'm sorry, but why would I ever be friends with such an attention whore? Did mommy and daddy never give you enough as a child?”

Seeing where this conversation was going, I decided to do something more interesting. I decided to play into her analysis.

“Actually, yes. My parents were consumed with work much of my childhood and had a rigid structure that maintained my physical safety but preyed upon my social and emotional safety as a special needs child, leading to severely stunted emotional and social growth but excellent physical and cognitive growth. This manifested as childhood chasing and severe attention-seeking behaviors. Thankfully, I'm risk-averse enough to have that rein me in from being an absolute menace. Also, if I am attention-seeking, so are you, as often you join me happily in that, as seen by the show we put on for Nagyung’s birthday where we argued for three hours.”

Arin stood there stunned. I watched as she tried to form a response until I got bored and walked away. She grabbed me and said, “Wait, Daizohan (she was using my full name, so I knew she was serious). I am sorry, I didn't know.”

I gave her a kind smile and replied, “It's all good. I also didn't realize until just now when you were talking about it.”

Arin smiled, and that same feeling of a wave washing over me crept up. “Well, now that you know, I expect better from you,” I nodded, and we walked back to Tatsunoko vs. Capcom. While walking, I noticed how pretty Arin was. Like, she was distractingly pretty.

As we walked back, that distraction caused me to walk into a metal pole. Obviously, I fell, but Arin was quick to pick me up and begin scolding me about “staying aware.”

As Arin spoke and droned on and on, my body sent a shiver down my spine before sending a weird impulse to my brain.

“Arin’s stern scolding is kinda of hot; she makes a great and nurturing mother. I should make her a mother,” my brain told me, and I jolted. Arin noticed, and for a moment, the animosity in her eyes dissipated, and I saw something I wasn't expecting: genuine concern.

Arin’s features softened from a disgusted grimace to concerned caution as she said, “Are you okay? You just jumped!” I nodded, standing there dumbfounded. “Good,” she continued, “Hey, don't scare me like that, Daizo.”

In an instant, all that animosity turned into this overwhelming desire to kiss her. Before I knew it, all I could think about besides how pretty her eyes were with her cute glasses was how to go about kissing her. So, I did. At first, it was awkward as Arin was combating similar competing feelings of infatuation and infuriation. After a few seconds though, she joined me in choosing to be infatuated. After we broke the kiss Arin looked at me annoyed, “Damn it. Why did you have to be such a good kisser,” I laugh and say

“Would you believe you are my first kiss?”Arin’s eyes widened before taking me in for another kiss. This one is less chaste and innocent and sloppy I feel her tongue enter my mouth as she asserts her dominance over me. I feel her body pressed into mine and I feel a Plasma hot lust for her as she digs her nails into my shoulders. She breaks another kiss and says

“You’re coming home with me, and I'm going to ride you till we both see stars,” she said with a sexy confidence that shook me. As we walked out of the game center we bumped into Jacob and Nagyung.

“Oh, Daizo and Arin…why are you two holding hands?” Nagyung asked worried. Arin stammered trying to say something about getting food.

“But there's food here?” Nagyung pointed out. I watched as the gears began to spin in her head.

“I'm going to help her with some chord alignment,” I responded Jacob heard me, looked at me, looked at Arin, then began to smirk. Thankfully he didn't explain to Nagyung the greater context as he cleared the runway for us, and similarly to a jet, Arin raced away with my hand in hers. On the drive to her place, she kept a rather possessive hand over my cock the entire time she would caress it at every stop and would say something like,

“I can't wait to choke on it!” or “Are you going to be a good boy when you stuff that cock in me?” What got me going though was when (at her last stop) she grabbed my hand and placed it down her pants I felt how sodden she was. Watching me squirm next to her she gripped my cock and said

“I can't wait to break you in and make you my perfect little fuck toy. I am going to fuck all those complex thoughts and combo chains right out of your pretty little head until all you can do is beg me to let you cum again and again.” as she spoke she started stroking my cock.

“Do you like it when I take charge? Do you like it when I do all the thinking,” she asked as she stroked me. I nodded and she cooed in a deliciously evil tone, “Come on Toy use your words,” The combination was almost too much and I almost came then and there but she said, “Don’t cum yet toy. I want your first load to be deep inside my cunt,” to emphasize her point she gripped my rod with a severe intensity causing a bit of plain with the pleasure. I moaned out a hoarse,

“God yes break me please and put me back together as yours,” Arin smiles before she responds

“I will Toy. Just wait.”

We arrive at her house and we rip our clothes off. She walks over to her countertop and bends over so I can see her perky ass and tight body.

“Well, toy what are you waiting for? Fill my pretty pussy,” she coaxes me with a cute wiggle of her ass and I scramble towards her. She chuckles as she watches me almost fall on my way to her. “Are you excited toy?” Arin interrogated.

“Very!” I exclaim

“Well then let my pussy claim you as its first. She says in a simmered voice that borders on coy and sexy.

I glanced toward Arin and asked “How did you know,”

She smiled knowingly before coyly replying, “I'll tell you later,” and she guided me in. As she forced me into her tight and wet hole we both moaned. A huge wave of tension was relieved between us.

“Fuck Arin you're so tight,” I said fighting a losing battle against trying to bottom out inside of her. Arin moaned enraptured by our shared struggle and pleasure. She laughed and said,

“Well, I should be! It's my first time as well toy.” her words strike a chord within me as the depth of what's happening hit me. That and her pussy slowly molding itself to my shape. (it was a lot to process ya know.) As I get closer to her core she moans again and then says, “Force it in please rail me I need it,” despite her increasing wetness it's still a struggle but when I do bottom out in her the relief is immeasurable and immediate. We stay there for a moment as each of our bodies proudly claim the other. In this state of delirium, I say the following full of conviction despite our recent status.

“Oh my God, I love you so much. God I'm gonna marry you.” Arin’s eyes lock with mine as I feel her tighten even more. Her look of lust and surprise is viciously sexy.

“I want to bicker, with fuck you, be lectured by you for the rest of my life,” I ramble as I begin thrust Arin blushes, and quickly regains her composure.

“So my toy wants me forever hm… I'll think about it,” Arin says before moaning as she matches my thrusts.

“Hey, toy can flip me over? I want to watch you become obsessed with me. The desperation in your voice. The conviction I want to see the exact moment I claim you as my plaything,” Arin said luridly, lost in the moment I flipped her over and did as she asked. We lock eyes and I lose it. Her seductive expression. her petite breast. Her saying, “Keep fucking me like a good boy!” it's all too much and it sends me over the edge. I cum in her and she moans. When I'm done she laughs which makes me feel terrible before she says,

“No that was not a disparaging laugh but a happy laugh. I wanted you to explode in my pussy in you did. Your stamina will come in time as we navigate this together,” I nod feeling less shame. Arin smiles as she gets on her knees and begins to suck my cock. I feel an intense sensitivity from her mouth as she explores my flesh.

“Your reactions are so cute. I can see you holding in your moans, but I am going to need you to stop that. I want to see my good boy beg and scream for release. So please get loud for me.”

I moan at Arin’s sultry tone she chose before she licks over a particularly sensitive area that draws out intense screams. Arin’s eyes widen with delight as she begins to massage my balls I desperately try to hold my cum in. I don't want to disappoint her but she's finding and hitting all my weak spots.

“Fuck I'm close,” I groan. Arin smiles she stops and leads me to her bedroom she lays me down and mewls closely to me while tracing lines around my body

“I can't decide if I want you in my mouth, ride you, or have you fuck me again,” Arin said and I decided to choose for her. I kiss her before she can decide and let an errant hand down to her lower lips and circle her clit. She groans in rapture. “Good boy taking the initiative,” she moans as I continue my amateurish assault on her body. “A little softer baby,” she said as she tensed around me before she lost control. She pushed me into my back her eyes blurred with lust as she began to ride me. “I need this cock,” she moaned as she bounced on my dick. Her petite breasts jiggle melodically as she takes me again and again. Our combined sexes continue their quest to mold each other in the pursuit of being perfect for each other.

“Oh god yes, I love this cock. I want this cock to be my cock.” Arin said enraptured. I smile as she chases her high. I smile and groan as I feel her tighten around me before she says “cum with me good boy,” I smile as I watched her orgasm hit. As it did she bounced on my cock with a higher intensity trying to coax me to cum. Ultimately she is successful as I paint her guts white. After that Arin sighed “We should probably head back,” she said. I sighed and nodded as I got up and got ready to go back with her. as we put our underwear back on. Arin smiles at me and says, “What?”

“Oh nothing just remembering our first time together Arin smiles as we get in her car and drive to Nagyung and Jacob’s place.

#kpop fanfic #fanfic #oh my girl smut #Arin smut #choi yewon #oh my girl arin

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defectivevillain · 5 months

Text

a heavenly, hellish housemate

pairing: Adam/Reader

The reader’s race and gender are ambiguous; no pronouns or physical descriptors are used.***

summary: “If you’re my guardian angel, then why are you so…?” you break off. “Devilishly handsome?” The angel winks. “I was going to say ‘sleazy,’” you frown. “Okay, that’s not the right way to say ‘Wow, thank you so much for saving my life. I don’t know what I’d do without you, Adam, you’re so sexy and badass.'” He scoffs.

After Adam acts up yet again, Sera decides to assign him guardian angel duty. Adam is pissed, but he goes along with it and starts to look out for you: the human he’s tasked with protecting. He has no intention of ever actually meeting you, but when he saves you from death, he finds himself stuck on Earth with you.

warnings: near-death experiences, emotional manipulation, suggestive humor

author's notes: ***The reader is referred to as “dude,” and “bitch” (you can thank adam for that, lmao) but i typically use those terms with the intent of them being gender-neutral… The reader also uses cologne (but, again, smelling nice isn’t gender-specific, i don’t think…)

This fic won’t be canon compliant. Also, some of the story itself is going to be underdeveloped—in the sense that I still want this to be a “oneshot,” not a multi-chapter fic. Some big-scale things like how Adam gets to Earth and how he will return to Heaven are overlooked.

anyways, onto the fun stuff:

It’s been a long day, you think to yourself as you walk down the sidewalk. Work wasn’t particularly eventful today, but you’re still rather exhausted. You’re contemplating what you’ll fix for dinner when you see a car approaching out of the corner of your eye. You blink and your heart races as you realize it’s veering off the road and heading right towards you. It’s going far too fast and suddenly you’re frozen, trapped as the car speeds towards the sidewalk and heads straight for you in painful slow-motion. At the last possible moment, you’re shoved to the side with unnatural momentum. You fall to the ground and the car crashes into the wall—right about where you had been walking mere moments ago. You stare at it in disbelief.

You have scrapes on your knees and you get the feeling you’ll have bruises on your elbows and arms, but otherwise, you’re unharmed. It’s a miracle—there’s no other way to explain it. By all means, you should have died in that car crash. You weren’t able to move in time… until that weird sensation, as if someone unseen had just shoved you out of the way.

“Don’t get paid enough for this shit,” someone nearby mutters. You’re about to get up when a large shadow overtakes your vision. You look up to find a figure cloaked in white staring down at you; after a second look, you realize that he’s wearing a mask over his face. He’s looking down at you with a strange combination of interest and scrutiny.

“…Hello?” You choke out, once you manage to accept just what you’re seeing. This guy—whoever he is—is ridiculously tall and looks entirely unfamiliar. In fact, he doesn’t look human at all—he has a bright halo over his head and wings extending from his shoulders.

He stares at you in disbelief when he notices that you’re looking back at him. “You can see me?” He asks, clearly surprised. “What the fuck?!”

“Are you my guardian angel or something?” You ask, unable to hide your suspicion. You never thought guardian angels were even real; and, even if you were to think about it, you would expect a “guardian angel” to be clothed in blinding white. This guy has grey horns, golden wings, and a positively dangerous smirk. He does have that white halo, though…

“Ugh, fucking fine,” the guy scoffs, clearly annoyed. You’re not quite sure how he’s sick of this conversation already, when it hasn’t been more than a few moments. “Yes, I am. You’re welcome, baby.”

“Okay,” you remark, still a little unconvinced. Admittedly, the pet-name throws you for a loop—especially when you realize the guy is rather attractive, with shaggy, dusky brown hair and gleaming golden eyes. Averting your eyes, you take a look around you, only to find that everyone seems too preoccupied with the car crash to notice you talking to this strange “angel”—if that’s really what he is. Or, even more frightening… you may be the only one able to see him. You try to collect your thoughts and one question immediately comes to mind. “If you’re my guardian angel, then why are you so…?” You trail off.

“Devilishly handsome?” He winks.

“I was going to say ‘sleazy,’” you frown.

The guy crosses his arms over his chest. “Okay, that’s not the right way to say ‘ wow, Adam, thank you so much. I don’t know what I’d do without you, you’re so sexy and badass.’”

You stare at him in disbelief for a few moments, before deciding to push yourself to your feet. Even when you’re standing in front of him, the height difference between you both is stark. You squint at him for a second. “Are you sure you’re an angel?” You blurt out before you can stop yourself. The guy seems a little too profane to be from Heaven. But, who knows?

“Damn right,” the guy asserts confidently, blowing your assumptions right out of the water. “I’m the angel. Adam’s the name, pulling bitches is the game.”

While you want to focus on that horrid last part of his statement, your attention is captured by his name: Adam. Is he the first human—that Adam? “You’re the Adam?” You question. “Like, Adam and Eve?”

The smug grin on the angel’s face promptly vanishes. “Ugh, this was going so well,” Adam groans raspily. “Don’t fucking mention my ex-wife, dude. She’s a real piece of work.”

“If you say so,” you acquiesce. This entire conversation is giving you whiplash. You wonder just how you got yourself into this situation. And while you’re grateful that this guy saved you, you hadn’t expected to be stuck in an interaction with him. You really just want to go home—this day has been a nightmare, and you want nothing more than to jump into bed and sleep.

“I do say so,” he preens. Wow, this guy’s ego is extremely inflated. You’re not sure you’ve ever met someone so cocky and arrogant before.

“Well… Thanks for saving my life, I guess?” You remark uneasily, taking a casual half-step backwards and hoping he doesn’t notice. You’ve been patiently waiting for the conversation to end, but somehow it’s still going—and you’re nearly at the point of just walking away and ignoring him.

“You’re fucking welcome, shrimp,” Adam responds. You ignore the dig. The guy is unnaturally tall—far surpassing the height of even the tallest humans. He must be eight or nine feet tall, at least.

“Well, I have to get home, so…” You give an awkward wave and turn to walk away. You don’t make it for more than a few steps before you notice a presence behind you. Adam is following you, you realize with dread. “Um, what are you doing?” You ask.

“Following you, dipshit,” he scoffs, as if the question is stupid. “This has never happened before. I don’t know how to get back up to Heaven yet.”

“Great.” You groan, resolving yourself to a chaotic day.

Why am I doing this again? You ask yourself as you stare at the angel walking around your apartment. You don’t realize that you utter that question aloud until you hear Adam speak. “Because you’re nice and hot and smart and totally my type?”

“Nice try,” you huff, crossing your arms over your chest and resolutely pretending that his remark doesn’t make your heart race. He’s the type of person to flirt with anyone—hell, anything —that has a pulse. “Flattery won’t get you very far.”

“It’s true, though” Adam insists confidently, “And you can take my word for it, ‘cause there are some real nasty bastards up in Heaven.” You watch as he continues to inspect your apartment, opening your cabinets and drawers and ultimately having zero respect for your privacy. You’re suddenly immensely grateful that you don’t have much to hide—your apartment is pretty ordinary-looking.

“So… when do you go back?” You not-so-subtly ask, as he continues looking around without permission.

“Trying to kick me out?” He grins, seeing through your rather pathetic attempt to hide your irritation. Adam shuts the drawer he was searching through and shrugs. “Not sure. I’ve never been to the human realm before; this shit blows.” He punctuates the statement with a heavy eye-roll.

“That’s not helpful,” you frown concernedly. It may be no big deal for him—he has all the time in the world to return to Heaven, considering he’s already in the afterlife. But you have a life, a job, and things to do. You don’t have the time or energy (or patience) to stumble through reorganizing your entire life just to fit an angel in it.

“I don’t fucking know!” He practically screeches, a sudden switch into extreme defensiveness. Adam must notice you watching him, because he turns around and meets your gaze. “For once. Maybe even the first time. But I know everything else, so don’t get used to it.” He’s quick to add. You’re starting to worry that your eyes will get stuck in the back of your head—from how much you’ve been rolling your eyes at his inane comments.

“Has anyone ever told you you’re a pain in the ass?” You mutter darkly.

“Without lubrication, yeah.” You don’t bother dignifying that comment with a response. You instead shake your head relentingly and tell him you have a pullout bed on the couch, to which he complains incessantly before you offer sleeping on the street as an alternative.

Still processing everything that happened, you tell Adam you need to be alone and lock yourself in your room. Just a few hours ago, you were living your life as normal. Your guardian angel saved your life, but now he’s living here with you. You don’t remember signing up for any of this. You rub a hand over your face and try to fight off the exhaustion that has been setting in since you left work.

Eventually, it’s late enough for you to go to bed—and you fall asleep hoping that you’ll wake tomorrow morning to an empty apartment, blissfully free of a certain angel.

But the universe is not so merciful, and you see Adam sleeping on the couch when you walk out of your room and towards the kitchen. You try to move quietly—so as to not disturb him—but he must be a light sleeper, because suddenly he’s up on his feet and chastising you for being too loud. You head to work already feeling tired, which doesn’t bode well for the rest of your day.

The longer Adam stays at your apartment, the more you learn about him. For example, you learn that Adam is an incessant flirt (although that was clear from the first few moments you met). You also learn that he enjoys scaring the absolute shit out of you. Sometimes, you’ll get home from work and find yourself in an empty apartment. You’ll forget that you’re housing a goliath of a “guardian angel,” until said angel seeps out of the shadows and screams at you, cackling maniacally as you regain your breath.

Adam isn’t a great roommate, either—he’s messy, doesn’t have very many boundaries, and has no qualms about invading your personal space. He has a ton of annoying habits. Even so, you suppose it’s not the worst situation you could find yourself in. Plus, as much as you hate to admit it, it’s kind of nice to have company when you get home from a particularly long day at work. You can vent to him about some dumbass you work with and he won’t hesitate to insult them with you.

Although… Adam doesn’t pay you. He doesn’t have any human money. You’re not even sure if Heaven has currency, and you keep forgetting to ask. All you know is that he’s living here for free—practically mooching off of you. And, for the first few weeks, it really does feel like he’s taking advantage of your kindness—as he eats all of your groceries, never cleans up after himself, constantly plays your Nintendo Switch without asking you for permission… The list goes on.

After more than three weeks of that rather grating behavior, you sit him down at the table in the dining room and try to establish some ground rules. If he is going to continue staying with you, he has to: (1) clean up after himself, which includes everything from washing the clothes you bought for him at the thrift store to doing his dishes; (2) write what he wants on the grocery list, so you won’t come home to an empty fridge and pantry; (3) use his own separate account for your Switch, which you so graciously made for him; and (4) limit how many times he scares you to a few times per week.

You think these demands are perfectly reasonable, but judging from the way he stares at you for a moment before laughing in your face, Adam has never respected someone else’s rules. You don’t break eye contact with him, despite wanting nothing more than to look away from his increasingly intimidating gaze. Eventually, Adam must sense that you’re not budging on these points, because he mutters something about bossy landlords—to which you snarkily remind him that landlords have paying tenants, and that he is living under your roof for free. He shuts up after that.

After that conversation, things get better. Slowly but surely, Adam begins to adjust his behavior to be moderately less annoying. You get the feeling that being annoying is one of his core personality traits, but at the very least you’ve prevented that from affecting your lifestyle. Unsurprisingly, the angel doesn’t follow all of the rules perfectly. Ironically, it seems that Rule No. 4—limiting how often he scares the life out of you—is the most difficult one for him to follow. The fucker is constantly appearing behind you and ripping the breath from your chest. But, you respect that Adam is trying, and the two of you gradually learn to live with one another.

But things come to an unfortunate boiling point one evening as you’re getting ready to go out for dinner. You’ve attempted to tame your hair into something slightly more styled than normal and you’ve used your rather pricey cologne [a miniscule amount of it, admittedly]. You have your keys, your pepper spray in case your date goes awry, and your phone. You’re inspecting your closet in an attempt to decide on an outfit when you hear Adam enter the room.

You turn around to face him, realizing that he looks skeptical as his gaze inspects your form. “Where the hell are you going?” He asks, evidently noticing that you’re preparing to leave. You suppose it is rather unusual for you to be leaving home in the evening like this—typically, once you leave work, you stay home for the rest of the night.

“I’m going on a date,” you respond, picking out a shirt and pants and folding them over your arm.

“A date?” Adam scoffs. “Your ugly ass? Please.”

You don’t bother acknowledging that remark, instead moving to the bathroom. You change and brush your teeth, before walking back out to your room. You’ll just pretend that your giant angelic roommate—the one who still doesn’t pay rent, by the way—isn’t here. Unfortunately, you don’t get very far, because Adam continues speaking the moment you exit the bathroom.

“Hey, there isn’t-” Adam begins, turning around to face you. Whatever he means to say fades to obscurity as he stares at you. For a painful moment, the two of you are trapped in a tense silence. Just as it grows to be unbearable, Adam scoffs. “This is for him? Fucking Tom?” Wait… How does he know your date’s name? You squint at him suspiciously, before realizing that he’s holding your phone and evidently looking through your messages.

“Hey, give me that-” You say with wide eyes, reaching for your phone.

“Did it hurt when you fell from heaven?’”Adam recites, scrolling through the messages from the guy you’re going on a date with. There’s a cruel amusement gleaming in his eyes. “There’s no fucking way.” He cackles.

You stare at him in shocked silence, forced to listen as he rips apart this guy you haven’t even met yet. “Are you done yet?” You eventually ask, when it seems like he’s losing steam. “I have to go, give me that-” You hiss, annoyed and frustrated. His grip is inhumanly tight as he clutches your phone; you have no idea how he hasn’t broken it yet.

“No way, sweetheart,” he grins, a malicious and cruel smile. “This is the most fun I’ve had in years ,” he says, continuing to scroll through your conversation, “Besides, why are you meeting with this guy if you don’t even know him in the first place?”

That’s the whole point of the date: to get to know Tom. You try to take a deep breath and remain calm. “You’re my ‘guardian angel,’ not my mother,” you feel the need to say, when his eye contact is growing a bit too intense and prolonged.

“Wow, strange, that doesn’t sound like gratitude,” Adam frowns, tapping a finger against his chin.

You grit your teeth. Unless you’re able to sneak around this nine-foot fucking demon looming in the doorway—because really, he’s not acting like much of an angel right now—you’re going to miss your date. You try to make a grab for your phone one more time, but Adam’s grip remains steady. There’s no way you’re getting it back, judging from both his immensely strong grasp and the determined smirk on his face.

Defeat sets in, followed by prickling embarrassment and fury. “You know what?” You say, your voice cracking in your frustration. “Fine. Fine. You win. Okay?” You leave your room and head out to the living room, desperate for some privacy. Adam either doesn’t notice or doesn’t care, because he follows behind you. You feel tears falling down your face before you can stop them. You feel so helpless. This guy swooped into your life and fucked everything up, just for his own amusement.

“Are you crying because of that loser?” Adam asks, surprise coloring his voice.

“I’m crying because of you!” You seethe, glaring at him. You wipe your eyes with the back of your sleeve. “You ruined my night. And I genuinely wanted to get to know Tom, but you’ve fucked that up too!” This is like an emotionally manipulative relationship, you think to yourself, but without the relationship. So really, it’s just emotionally manipulative. You don’t give Adam a chance to defend himself, instead pushing past him and going back into your room, slamming the door shut behind you.

You flop onto your bed and curl onto your side, unable to stop the tears sliding down your cheeks. You know it’s a somewhat insignificant thing to be upset about, but you can’t help it. The way Adam just completely decimated your plans, with all the confidence of someone who has never once been questioned, someone who has always been looked up to and venerated and-

You huff and push yourself back up to a sitting position, grabbing the nearby tissue box and blowing your nose. You’re still furious with Adam, of course, but you’d rather just not acknowledge him right now. Even the mere thought of him now is enough to send new tears slipping down your cheeks.

You lie awake a bit longer than usual that night, feeling unspeakably restless. Frustrated, you stare up at the ceiling and try to think about something other than the horrible evening you just had. Eventually, you drift off into sleep—albeit with dry eyes and anger still prickling at your core.

Against all odds, you manage to have a relatively restful sleep, and you wake to the smell of pancakes wafting through your apartment. That immediately concerns you, and you get out of bed with fear drumming in your chest. Did you leave the stove on? Is something burning? You stumble out to the kitchen, only to find Adam standing with his back to you, looking down at a griddle that you don’t remember purchasing.

“Adam?” You ask, blinking traces of sleep from your eyes. Adam stiffens and turns around, an uncharacteristically weak smile flickering on his face before it’s replaced with his trademark wide grin.

“Hey,” he remarks, turning around to flip a few pancakes. When Adam turns back around to look at you, you realize that the apron he’s wearing says Kiss the Cook. You feel a disbelieving laugh crawl out of your throat before you can stop it.

“Where’d you get that apron?” You ask, knowing damn well you don’t own an apron like that.

“Don’t worry about it,” he grins, which naturally just worries you more. You take a deep breath and go back to your room to change. When you return to the kitchen, there’s a stack of pancakes on the counter—evidently for you. You grab a few pancakes, a plate, and utensils, before settling at the table and beginning to eat. You keep yourself occupied throughout the meal with Youtube videos, but you’re still unable to avoid the tension settling in the air.

When you finish eating, you do your dishes before thanking Adam for the meal. Before you can retreat back to the solitude of your room, Adam takes a deep breath as if preparing himself to speak.

“So…” He starts, “This is hard for me to say………” His voice is almost entirely devoid of emotion. Before you can think about that any longer, he continues speaking. Is he about to apologize? Somehow, you doubt it. “I’m not sorry for what I did.” And there it is. You’re not surprised; you’re just disappointed. You immediately move to leave and his eyes widen. “Wait. No, that’s- Hey, I’m trying to apologize here!”

“Apologizing typically starts with ‘I’m sorry,’” you say, glaring at him.

“Fine,” Adam says with an eye-roll, “I didn’t want you going on that date. Okay?”

“Why?” You ask. You deserve to know the rationality behind his actions—if there even was any. The angel’s eyes are gleaming (with what emotion, you’re not quite sure).

“I’m your guardian angel,” Adam reminds you, “I’m supposed to protect you from harm.” That’s a load of bullshit. You turn around again, fully intent on barricading yourself in your room and never coming out. “Hey, hey, hey-!” He sputters. Adam takes a deep breath and pinches the bridge of his nose. “Damn it! Fine. I didn’t want you to go on that date because you’re out of his league.”

That statement only confuses you further. Tom was an attractive guy, and he seemed nice. Why would you be out of his league? “Then who’s in my league?” You sputter, feeling extremely lost. “You?” You scoff.

“Yes!” He exclaims with so much vehemence that it startles you. “I mean, no! Fuck, why is this so difficult? Okay. Listen… I rescheduled your date with Tom. You’re gonna meet with him today, and wear that sexy ass outfit you had on yesterday.”

“Really?” You ask, still skeptical. You want to believe the angel, but you can’t help but think of his actions last night—the unflappable determination on his face as he wrecked your plans for the night. Adam got some sort of thrill out of ruining your night, and that still concerns you.

“Really,” the angel assures you, tossing you your phone. You completely forgot he had it. You remember trying to wrench it out of his grip; when you stormed off to your room, he must’ve still had it. “Check your messages.” You obey and open the text conversation.

Yesterday, 2:45 p.m. Tom: Looking forward to it. Yesterday, 4:42 p.m. You: Hey, I hate to do this, but do you mind if we reschedule for tomorrow? My roommate got sick and I need to look after him. Tom: Sure thing. Same time? You: Sounds good.

“Oh,” you remark aloud, lost for words.

“So go on your date and have fun,” Adam continues. “With- with Tom.” The latter statement is spoken with a decent amount of venom, and Adam averts his eyes with a surprisingly irritated expression on his face. Not wanting to look a gift horse in the mouth, you busy yourself with preparing for the date, equal parts anticipation and something frighteningly similar to appreciation warring in your chest. You shouldn’t be holding any sort of appreciation for Adam’s actions—he was just righting his own mistake. Even so… You sigh and push aside any thoughts of Adam, instead busying yourself with preparing. When you’re finally ready, you walk out of your room and head for the side table—where your pepper spray, phone, and keys still remain from the night before.

You glance around the space, finding Adam sitting in front of the television and playing video games. “I’m heading out,” you decide to tell him.

“Have fun,” the angel says, not bothering to look away from his game. You take a deep breath and leave your apartment, locking your door behind you. Your date is waiting outside, supposedly.

The night passes by frighteningly fast; two hours later, you’re unlocking your front door, shutting it behind you, and trudging into your apartment with severely dampened spirits. You’re unsurprised to find Adam still playing games on your Nintendo Switch. His back is turned and you feel your throat burning. “Hey,” he says, focused on the game. “How’d it go?”

“You called it,” you murmur frustratedly. “You were right. I should’ve listened.” Your eyes are burning now too. Your voice sounds foreign to your ears.

It evidently takes Adam a moment to process what you just said, but you immediately notice the moment he comprehends it. The room falls eerily silent and you watch the television screen for a moment. (Meanwhile, Adam is staring ahead in complete shock, surprised as to how someone could have fumbled the bag so badly.) Adam then turns around, his game entirely abandoned. “What did that bastard do?” He hisses. “God damn it, I’m going to murder him. He’s going straight to Hell!”

“It’s- I don’t know,” you choke out, placing your hands on the back of the couch. Tears are falling down your face now, despite your best attempts to keep them in. “Maybe it’s my fault.” You murmur.

“Abso-fuckin-lutely not,” Adam declares with an unreasonable amount of confidence. “You’re the closest fuckin’ thing to perfection; there’s no way in Heaven or Hell that it was your fault.” You want to believe him, but you don’t. You can’t—not after how badly the night went.

You’re still reeling, so you decide to sit down next to Adam on the couch. For a long moment, the two of you stare ahead silently as the Animal Crossing: New Horizons music plays in the background. Eventually, Adam continues playing and you watch as he controls a purple-skinned avatar with golden eyes, black wings, and a white halo.

Sharing the silence with Adam is nice, but you soon find it more and more difficult to stay awake through it. You’re growing tired—your exhaustion from earlier catching up to you—and your eyelids are starting to sting from fatigue. You’re leaning back against the couch cushions, dangerously close to leaning on Adam’s shoulder. Your limbs feel as heavy as bricks and within moments, you’re surrendering to the urge to succumb to the darkness and the magnetic sensation pulling you to rest your head on the angel’s shoulder.

The next morning you wake up in your bed, despite having no recollection of walking back to your room. That particular mystery quickly fades to the back of your mind once you arrive at work, however. The day seems to drag, but finally, after a seemingly infinite amount of time, you finish your work and can go home to relax.

“Hey,” you say as you enter your apartment after work, surprised to find the living room empty. Typically, you’d see Adam watching television at this time. “Adam?” You ask. There’s no response. You shrug off your jacket and hang it on your coat rack, before walking through the living room and into the dining room.

To your surprise, you find your table candlelit, with boxes of takeout from your favorite restaurant scattered around its surface. “Hey, you’re back.” Adam says. Despite the fact that he probably didn’t mean to scare you, the sudden reveal of his presence is enough to send your heart racing—if only for a brief moment. You still can’t quite believe what you’re seeing; noticing your confusion, Adam continues—sounding almost apprehensive. “I thought… you deserve a nice dinner, since your date didn’t go well.” He breaks off for a moment, a truly murderous expression on his face. Adam shakes his head as if to clear his thoughts, before motioning to the takeout boxes and looking at you expectantly. “Did I get your order right?” You squint at the boxes and nod; he grins. “Hell yeah! Am I the fucking best or what?”

You smile and shake your head in disbelief. You move to sit down, but Adam tugs you back. “Hey, hey, not so fast,” he admonishes you, before placing a hand on the chair and pulling it out for you. You roll your eyes fondly and sit down at the proffered seat. Moments later, Adam takes a seat across from you. The two of you quickly dig into your food and you fall into idle conversation about your day.

When you’re both finished eating, Adam clears his throat purposefully. “So,” he starts, “I know I was kind of a dick, but you should go on an actual date with me.” He sounds forceful, but you’re pretty sure he’s just uncertain.

“Sure,” you agree rather easily. Despite all you’ve been through—all the missteps Adam has made, especially when you were trying to date other people—you like the thought of being in a relationship with him. Adam is frighteningly easy to be around, and underneath that prickly, jerkish exterior is a person who genuinely cares about you. At least, that’s what you hope.

“Oh hell yeah!” He fist-pumps, making you chuckle. “You’re about to get wined and dined, bitch. Get ready for a four-course meal—I’ll be the perfect fucking gentleman. Chivalry and all that shit.”

“You do realize chivalry has been dead for, like, centuries,” you say before you can stop yourself.

Adam groans dramatically. “You know what I fucking mean,” he chastises you. And, surprisingly, you think you actually do know what he means. He wasn’t referring to chivalry in the antiquated sense, but more in the sense that every person deserves to be treated nicely. That’s a surprisingly decent perspective, coming from him of all people. “I’m going to be so fucking nice, you’re going to be falling at my feet.” You both know that is definitely not going to happen. You don’t let Adam always have his way—you don’t let him step all over you. And, maybe, that’s one of the reasons he likes you. Maybe, just maybe, he needs someone who is just as independent and stubborn as he is.

You find yourself looking forward to learning more about this mysterious guardian angel of yours.

endnotes: oh my god, they were roommates.

y'all, i can't believe i wrote 5k words for this bastard.

thanks for reading! <3

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violetsteve · 2 years

Text

If you prefer, this is also posted on AO3

After the almost end of the world, Steve decides he’s going to put the moves on Eddie Munson.

Robin may or may not laugh in his face when he announces it.

The thing is, despite Robin almost laughing him out of the building, the thing is Steve is still figuring out his sexuality. He knows he likes girls, he’s always liked girls, but then Robin pointed out that maybe he couldn’t figure out what he wanted because he wasn’t looking in the right place and Steve realized she was right . Sure, Robin had meant more of a ‘ stop going after girls who are traditionally pretty and from well off families and try going out with girls whose company you actually enjoy’ and not a ‘ hey, dudes are kinda hot, too, right? It was real weird how transfixed you seemed to be on Eddie Munsons lips while we were actively fighting demon monsters,’ but Steve has always been good at reading in between the lines. Or, more like inserting what he wants in the gaps of what people leave unsaid.

So, no, Robin did not tell Steve to open his eyes and realize that straight guys don’t exactly think about how another guys lips will look slick with spit, how they’ll feel under the pressure of his thumb, what the sweet satisfaction of them partying so readily under his will feel like, but she did tell him to broaden his horizons and honestly, they were basically the same thing.

Which is why Steve feels like she should be more supportive of his plans to woo Eddie Munson onto his couch—and maybe, if he’s feeling ambitious, eventually into his bed.

“Robin, come on . I’m serious!” Steve will never admit, even under Russian torture again, that he whines it. He’s coming to Robin as a sounding board, not so she can make fun of him. If he wants someone to make fun of his lack of prowess, he would go talk to Dustin.

Or, yeah on second thought no. He’s not actually sure his ego could take that much of a hit at the moment.

“Sorry, sorry,” she gasps, gripping the—newly rebuilt and polished—family video counter in front of her. “I just—Steve, that’s-that’s so ambitious . You literally just came out to me less than a week ago and you’re already talking about getting with a boy. And Eddie Munson at that.”

Steve scowls at her, crossing his arms over his chest in a way that he knows looks bitchy, but he can’t help it because—

“Don’t say his name like that. He literally almost died to save us all. He’s not fucking dirty .”

Robin immediately sobers, a guilty, but irritated look on her face. “That’s not how I meant it, Steve, and you know it. Don’t get bitchy at me just because you’re feeling sensitive about your feelings for a boy.”

And that’s the crux of it, isn’t it? Steve isn’t really angry at her for laughing—Robin makes fun of him at least 7 times a day, Steve would be more concerned if she didn’t make at least one joke about this—and he isn’t even mad at her for putting a weird emphasis on Eddie’s name. No, he’s all twisted up about his feelings and he’s never been good at expressing them, let alone talking about them. He’s feeling self conscious and his skin is prickling with embarrassment and the easiest thing to do is lash out about it.

“That’s not—“ Steve cuts himself off, looking away from Robin as his shoulders slump. “You’re right,” he mumbles. “Sorry. I just. I wanna fucking kiss him so bad , Rob, and that freaks me out a little.” Steve untucks one of his arms to scrub a hand over his face, leaving the other one tucked around his waist to protect his vulnerable bits.

“Hey,” Robin murmurs, closing the distance between them so she can settle her hands on his shoulders. “I get it. Do you think I acted like a sane person the first time I realized I wanna kiss girls? I think I cried for a week. Kerry the stuffed Koala had to go to therapy because of all of my crying. It was a serious time in the Buckley house.”

Steve smiles behind his hand. He loves her so much. She’s really his best friend. He’s so thankful for her.

“You still cry about kissing girls,” Steve says, rather than admitting any of that. She already knows she’s smart, Steve doesn’t need to add any more to her ego. It just gives her more brain to bully him with.

He drops the hand covering his face to look at her. “Only now it’s more of a,” Steve puts on a high pitched, whiny voice, “‘why do I have to go to work when I could be spending all day making out with my girlfriend.’” He brings both of his hands up to clasp in front of his chest, batting his eyelashes at her in a fake-coy way.

Robin shoves at him, catches him off guard and he goes stumbling backwards into the counter, laughing the whole way.

“Shut up , you absolute dickhead, ” she all but screeches, reaching out to give his chest another shove for good measure. “You literally have no room to talk considering you started this shift by announcing your intentions to, quite literally, crawl into Eddie’s lap and kiss him stupid . That’s almost verbatim what you said, Steve.”

Steve’s still chuckling as he rights his position a little, leaning back against the counter more comfortably. “Yeah, I did say that.” He sucks his bottom lip in between his teeth before he continues with, “I really, really wanna sit on his lap and kiss him until he can’t focus, Rob.”

Robin rolls her eyes, but it’s more fond than annoyed. Steve can tell—he’s been on the receiving end of about 90 percent of Robin’s eye rolls, he’s getting good at distinguishing the emotions behind each one.

“I still can’t believe you have a crush on Eddie Munson of all people. He’s so weird ,” She laughs, but Steve can tell that that, too, is fond. Robin and Eddie have a weird friendship. They geek out over obscure instruments and the nuance of tacky movies together. Steve doesn’t get it, but he enjoys watching how expressive both of them can be. He once watched Eddie climb onto a table while arguing with Robin about one of their movies. Robin followed him up shortly after, though, so Steve isn’t sure why she thinks the weird is limited to Eddie.

“Yeah,” Steve sighs, and he’s man enough to admit that it sounds dreamy . God, he’s pathetic over Eddie. It scares the shit out of him. “You know, the other day he gave me a rock. It wasn’t even, like, a cool rock. It was literally just a rock. When I asked him why he just shrugged and was like ‘I dunno, it made me think of you.’”

Robin’s grin grows. “Oh my God. What did you do with the rock?”

Steve shoots her a disgruntled look. “What do you think I did with the rock? I put in my pocket and then brought it home and set it on my nightstand. Eddie gave it to me, I wasn’t just going to throw it on the ground again. That’s rude.”

Robin absolutely cackles at this, there’s no other way to describe it. She’s awash in glee as she claps her hands together a few times. “ Jesus , Steve. You’ve got it so bad for this man.”

“God,” Steve mutters, running a hand over his face again. “That’s not even the worst part, Rob. He like. He grabs his utensils with his whole fist when he eats. It’s so weird, and it’s so messy . It makes fuck all sense. He doesn't even grab a pencil that way. Just his fucking eating utensils .

“And he walks so chaotic. He just randomly breaks into a sprint. Just starts fucking running out of nowhere. And he bounces. As if the random running wasn’t enough, he just fucking starts jumping. Sometimes he jumps at me, and it’s all I can do to actually catch him before he eats dirt. Or- or he’ll just. Spin. Just twirl in the middle of the sidewalk while still carrying on a conversation.” Steve slumps, his back getting slightly scraped against the counter as he sinks to his butt.

“The man has zero regard for personal space and he always makes way too intense of eye contact. Sometimes he’ll use one of his character voices in the middle of an otherwise totally normal conversation, and he’s always climbing on things. He’s loud and he’s weird and I wanna wrap my fingers around the collar of his shirt, shove him against a wall and then shove my tongue down his throat , jesus christ. ” Steve buries his face in his knees, his mind playing an endless loop of Eddie smiling with those stupid lips that are always cherry red and raw from his constant gnawing. Steve wants to bite them for him.

“Oh, my God, Steve.” Robing sinks down to sit across from him. “This is pathetic . I, like, knew you had a crush on Eddie but this is like. Dangerous territory. Like, the next step might be the L word level territory.”

Steve makes a small squeaking noise, his face still buried in his knees. Robin’s words hint at something that Steve is so not ready to admit to himself yet. She’s hitting way too close to something Steve has been avoiding actively and vehemently since he realized the attraction he feels for boys is decidedly not of the straight variety.

For a moment, neither of them say anything. Then, like the angel she so clearly is, Robin says, “So, wanna tell me about operation ‘crawl into Eddie’s lap and makeout with him?’”

Steve laughs, the tightness in his chest slowly easing. He lifts his head, and then spills his guts.

***

The plan starts simply. First, he needs to get Eddie alone . No annoying tagalongs to potentially interrupt.

It’s easier said than done. For two days straight, Steve asks Eddie to hang out and, somehow, one of the kids manages to weasel into their plans.

It’s driving Steve nuts.

He casually asks Eddie to watch a movie, give him a proper education like him and Robin are always going on about, and Dustin overhears and invites himself.

He asks Eddie to go for a walk, makes an excuse about it being gorgeous outside while he plots ways for the walk to end right outside his house, isn’t that neat, but Lucas and Max overhear and suddenly it’s a group affair.

He asks Eddie to get milkshakes, plans to lure him back to his house with the promise of complete control of Steve’s record player, but El overhears and asks if she can tag along and Steve just can’t look into her big, earnest eyes and tell her no. He’s not a monster.

So they get milkshakes with El, and it’s fun . Of course it’s fun, but Steve is getting desperate . It’s been a little over a week since he hatched his mad plan with Robin and he’s about to start climbing the walls with anticipation.

It doesn’t help that Eddie has a mother fucking oral fixation. At every opportunity he’s either putting stuff in his mouth or chewing on something. It’s fucking rude, is what it is. It’s like he doesn’t even realize Steve is suffering.

It all finally comes to a head a full week and four days after his conversation with Robin on the floor of Family Video. He’s stopping by Eddie’s house to grab something Dustin left behind because Dustin asked and he’s nice . It’s maybe also because it’s a great excuse to see Eddie, but Dustin sure as shit doesn’t need to know that that’s the sole reason Steve said he will.

Eddie is slightly bent over, riffling through his Dungeons and Dorks stuff, and Steve is trying so hard to pretend like he’s not entirely focusing on his ass and the line of exposed skin above his belt. If Eddie turns around right now, he’s busted for sure.

Eddie’s just mentioned some kind of dragon when he lets out a triumphant noise, his story coming to an abrupt halt as he spins on his heel to face Steve.

“Aha!” He exclaims, thrusting a notebook in Steve's direction.

Steve automatically reaches out to take it, his fingers brushing over the backs of Eddie’s in the switch over. Eddie bites his bottom lip at the contact, avoiding Steve’s gaze, and suddenly all Steve is thinking about is his mouth.

Steve debates with himself for a moment. This isn’t really how he planned to seduce his way into Eddie Munson’s lap, but he’s adaptable. If the years of almost apocalypses have taught Steve anything, it’s that sometimes you have to make do with what you have.

And what Steve has is an empty trailer save the two of them, and a couch less than ten feet away. He’s got the object of his affections standing in front of him, and Steve decides to adapt.

He wets his own lips, stepping towards Eddie. His hand is still holding Eddie’s hostage over the notebook.

“Thanks, Eddie,” Steve murmurs, ducking his head so he can look up through his lashes.

Steve watches Eddie’s breath catch, watches him stutter over his next sentence.

“Y-yeah,” he breathes out, his eyes flicking between Steve’s eyes and his mouth at a rapid speed. “Of c-course. I mean, it happens. Kids forget things. I’m sure Dustin just wanted to, like, go over the last session's notes for anything he missed.”

“Of course,” Steve agrees, taking another step into Eddie’s space. He’s aware that he’s primarily staring at Eddie’s lips, which is probably rude, but he can’t help it. They’re wet and shiny and Steve has been thinking about them an obsessive amount for the last week and a half.

“We’re, um, I-I mean they’re going against a red dragon,” Eddie continues. Steve’s aware of this. It’s what Eddie had been telling him when he’d found the notebook. “They’re very powerful, almost impossible to defeat.”

“Are they?” Steve’s only half following the conversation, but that’s not saying much. He has a hard time keeping up with the DnD talk on a regular day.

“Oh yeah,” Eddie says, and then he’s off. He starts spitting words so fast Steve wouldn’t be able to keep up even if he were paying complete attention.

“Eddie,” Steve says, but Eddie is still talking, still mumbling along about the red dragon.

“Eddie,” Steve tries again, but it’s like he’s shouting in an empty room. He knows Eddie knows he’s talking to him, can tell by how wide Eddie’s eyes are, how he’s not even trying to not slur his rapidfire words together. If Eddie was talking about dragons for the hell of it, he’d be gesticulating and probably climbing on things. As it were, he’s got his gaze fixed on Steve, eyes comically wide as his words rush together—barely getting one out before the next slew rush into it in a truly amusing word traffic jam.

Eddie’s nervous , and fuck if that doesn’t thrill Steve to his core. Steve takes the final step towards him to completely close the distance and—

Eddie takes a step back, his words stuttering along with Steve’s heart in his chest. He wasn’t expecting that, wasn’t expecting Eddie to back away from him so quickly. Steve has half a second to be hurt, to mentally kick himself because get a fucking clue , Harrington, before he catches Eddie’s eyes darting down to his lips, his tongue unconsciously swiping along his lower lip before his gaze skitters back up to Steve’s.

And, oh, yeah , Steve has him exactly where he wants him. Eddie isn’t stepping back because he doesn’t want Steve. No, he’s stepping back because he’s prey . Steve is stalking towards him with a single minded focus and Eddie is skittering backwards like a scared rabbit—bouncing back step by step as Steve approaches until his back collides with the wall. That, finally, seems to knock all their air out of Eddie. The dragon conversation dies on his lips as Steve finally—fucking finally —closes the remaining distance between them. He reaches out, cupping Eddie's cheek in one hand, his jaw in the other, all while pressing up against Eddie from hip to chest.

“ Eddie, ” Steve murmurs, his eyes hooding. This time, Steve feels Eddie’s breath catch, feels the way a tremor works its way through Eddie’s body. He’s staring up at Steve with wide, wild eyes. He looks like a deer caught in a trap—ready to break his leg trying to get away if he needs to.

Steve isn’t sure why that makes him feel a little wild, but it does.

He stretches his thumb out to swipe across Eddie's bottom lip—already bitten and red from Eddie’s nervous chewing. God , it drives Steve crazy . He has a half-hysterical thought about offering his own up for Eddie to chew on when he’s nervous. Eddie makes him crazy .

Steve licks at his own lips as he watches the way his thumb catches and drags and the swollen skin of Eddie’s bottom lip. Eddie’s trembling in earnest now, and Steve feels his pulse thundering in his ears. He wants to kiss Eddie so bad his fucking toes are curling with the anticipation.

He flicks his gaze up, away from Eddie’s lips up to his eyes and he has to fight back a groan. Eddie looks fucking wrecked and Steve hasn’t even kissed him yet. His eyes are wide and wild, his pupils blown and there’s a scarlet flush in his cheeks. He’s fucking panting against Steve’s face and he can’t take it any more. He really, really can’t. He has to kiss him—screw anticipation, screw driving Eddie past the brink. He needs and he needs now.

“ Eddie, ” Steve practically gasps . “Eddie, please.” Steve squeezes his eyes shut as his body unconsciously rocks forward, seeking even more of Eddie out. “Wanna kiss you so bad, please say I can, please—”

And before Steve can get another plea out, Eddie’s slamming his head forward with enough force to knock their teeth together in an uncomfortable clack ; enough force that their noses knock together in a painful way.

But Steve doesn't care . He doesn’t care because Eddie’s lips are on his and he feels like there’s liquid fire coursing through his veins. He feels lit up from the inside out as Eddie finally, finally touches him back. He fists a hand in the back of Steve’s shirt, the other winding through Steve’s hair and fuck it’s finally happening. After night upon night of imagining what kissing Eddie Munson would be like, Steve’s finally doing it.

And goddamn is he doing it. Eddie’s lips are slick against his, hot and encouraging . They slide together in a way that has Steve’s mind going blissfully blank, his only thoughts being hotwetyesmore.

He kisses him messy, lips moving together in a too fast pace that neither of them can keep track of; bruising force in the way their lips slide, spit sliping from their parted lips in a slow trickle that has Steve’s fingers curling against Eddie’s jaw.

He uses that hand to tilt Eddie’s head up slightly, angling it enough that Steve can get his bottom lip between his own and suck slightly. The first slid of Eddie’s lip between Steve’s own has him seeing fucking stars .

A punched out groan breaks free from Eddie’s throat and he rocks forward into Steve, seeking more . The hand in the middle of his back pulls and Steve is helpless to do anything but push Eddie more firmly into the wall. He knows it has to hurt, has to be restricting Eddie’s breathing with how tightly they’re pressed together, but he can’t take enough focus away from Eddie’s mouth to care . Plus, if Eddie minds that much he wouldn’t be pulling Steve closer .

Eddie breathes a wet gasp into Steve’s mouth when he takes his teeth to the lip still tucked between his own, and Steve can’t help but let out a gasp of his own. Eddie tastes fucking phenomenal. He can taste the lingering tobacco on his tongue, the salty tang of the popcorn he must have had earlier, and just the overwhelming taste of Eddie. Hot, sweet, fucking sublime. Steve‘s never been a particularly religious man, but he feels like he’s drinking heaven straight from Eddie’s mouth. With every gasp, every moan, every brush of Eddie’s tongue, he feels one step closer to absolution. It’s addicting .

God , he wants more. He wants Eddie’s hands all over him, on bare skin. He wants those deft musicians fingers to snake into his hair, tug a bit. He wants Eddie over him and under him and—

He stills suddenly, a thought occurring to him. The line that had triggered this whole thing—his announcement to Robin back in Family Video—and suddenly there’s a burning need in Steve’s gut. God, he needs to sit in Eddie’s lap right now. Needs to feel his strong thighs under him, needs Eddie’s hands on his ass and his tongue in his mouth.

“ Fuck, ” Steve bites out when he pulls back. Tearing his mouth away from Eddie’s is so much harder than it has any right to be.

Eddie’s staring at Steve with glassy eyes, his lips shiny and red and oh fuck even his chin is glistening with their spit. Steve wants to devour him.

“Go sit on the couch,” Steve says, and is pleasantly surprised that his voice only sounds a little rough, a little shaky.

“What?” Eddie croaks out, staring at Steve for a beat. Then, miracle of miracles, he does it. He stares at Steve the whole time, the glassy look getting a little clearer, and Steve thinks that simply will not do.

The minute Eddie is seated, Steve’s crawling his way into his lap. He wedges his knees into the crease at the back of the couch, shuffling as far forward as he can so their chests are pressing together, their clothed crotches aligning. Then, without giving Eddie a chance to adjust, he drops down, pressing the full weight of his ass into Eddie’s thighs and, by proximity, his dick.

“ Jesus Christ ,” Eddie swears, his hands shooting out to grab at Steve’s ass on instinct. Steve almost giggles . It’s exactly what he wants.

“You can just call me Steve,” he mutters, and before Eddie can reply, he’s sweeping in and claiming Eddie’s lips again. Eddie huffs against his mouth, but let’s Steve have the last word. Steve’s glad because he has plans .

Plans that start with Steve winding those thick curls around his fingers as he slides his lips against Eddie’s. Eddie pushes his head back into Steve’s hands like a cat, and it makes Steve smile into their kiss, which makes Eddie smile into the kiss. It’s like a domino effect—once Steve feels Eddie’s smile against his, he starts giggling like a schoolgirl. He can’t help it, this feels unreal in the best possible way.

Then Eddie’s off, giggling back into Steve’s mouth. They’re both just sitting there giggling at each other, eyes squinted and happy . God, Steve feels euphoric in this moment, perched in Eddie’s lap like it’s his throne, with Eddie’s hands on his ass.

Eddie pulls back after a moment, when their smiles are too wide to actually kiss. He brings a hand up to gently brush a strand of hair away from Steve’s eyes, tucking the long lock behind his ear before putting his hand back on Steve’s ass.

“You’re unbelievable, Steve Harrington,” Eddie whispers, eyes so full of affection that Steve feels his insides turn to mush. He squirms in Eddie’s laps, ducking his head to mouth at Eddie’s neck because if he stares into his eyes any longer he’s going to do something stupid . Stupid like admit that he’s pretty fucking sure he’s in love with Eddie, has been since he gave him that dumb rock for no decernable reason other than he wanted to, because he was thinking of Steve.

Steve tongues at the tendon in Eddie’s neck that’s stretched taunt, rubs his nose along his jaw and up to the hollow under his ear. Eddie laughs, tilting his head sideways to give Steve easier access.

“Oh, now you’re gonna be shy? After you practically pounced on me earli—”

Eddie’s words cut off in a choked groan as Steve bites, hard , at the tendon he was just showing attention to.

“ Steve, ” Eddie gasps, but Steve doesn’t let him do any other talking. No, he’s not going to let Eddie derail him again. So, he dives back for Eddie’s mouth, licking into it, not slowing down and not giving Eddie a chance to catch up. He smooths his tongue alongside Eddie’s, lets Eddie push back against it with his own for a millisecond, before he’s switching tactics—licking behind the top row of Eddie’s teeth, sliding his tongue over Eddie’s bottom lip.

Eddie squeezes his ass at the sudden onslaught, and Steve can’t help the small jerk his body gives at that. He grinds down, a gasp trapped in the humid air between them as sharp waves of pleasure shoot up his spine. He’s trapped in between Eddie’s lips and his hands and he feels like he’s high with it.

He’s enjoying himself so much.

He slides his tongue along Eddie’s again, enjoys the way it's slightly rough and gloriously slick against his own. Enjoys the way it makes his pulse thrum a little faster, his fingers grip a little tighter where they’re fisted in Eddie’s hair—the way it makes Eddie squeeze a little tighter, which makes Steve grind down a little harder.

Steve feels the evidence of Eddie’s interest, has been feeling it, and knows Eddie has to be aware of Steve’s own. And Steve’s fantasized about Eddie’s lips for so long that he’s tried to keep it to just that—tried to focus on the heady drag of lips on lips—but it’s hard to ignore the way Steve’s own hips are twisting down, seeking as much of Eddie as possible. Hard to ignore the way Eddie has his own feet planted on the floor, meeting Steve’s hips with firm thrusts of his own.

They’re sharing humid air and sharp gasps, their lips swollen and honestly sore . Steve’s lips ache in the best way he’s ever felt, and Steve doesn’t want to stop. Wants to sit right here on Eddie’s strong thighs, wants to feel Eddie’s teeth nipping at the too sensitive skin of his mouth, wants to kiss Eddie for the rest of his life .

They kiss and kiss and kiss, and Steve has never just kissed someone like this. He’s never kissed just to feel, kissed just for the pleasure of it with no expectations for what’s to follow. He feels intoxicated. He’s utterly, wholly blissed out on Eddie Munson’s mouth and he never wants it to end.

They kiss for so long that Steve has honestly started to lose feeling in his lips. It’s weird feeling them so sore, so numb. But they are, so he slowly, so slowly pulls back. Leaning down for a few lingering pecks as he puts a little distance between their mouths.

Eddie’s mouth is bright red, spit slick and so tempting. Steve watches with fascination as a single string of spit connects their lips, stretching until he’s put enough distance between them that it breaks.

Steve bites his lip on a moan, thinks that’s one of the hottest things he’s ever seen.

He meets Eddie’s gaze. His eyes are wild, pupils blown out. His hair is an absolute disaster from the way Steve’s been running his fingers through it, and his cheeks are flushed so prettily. Steve can’t resist sneaking one more kiss in, lingering around afterwards to rub their noses together.

“Hi,” Steve finally murmurs and fuck, is that his voice? Jesus, he sounds wrecked.

“Hi,” Eddie says back, his smile verging on loopy. “Did you know that some corvids can understand physics?”

Steve stares at him for a beat, a little stunned and a lot confused by the abrupt topic switch. Eddie stares back, a look on his face that Steve can only take for regret, his already pink face is turning positively crimson.

It’s dead quiet for a moment, then Steve bursts into laughter. His chest absolutely swells with affection, with, fuck it, love. God damn , he can’t deny it any longer. The love he feels for this boy sitting under him is overwhelming at the best of times, and it feels like it’s just bursting out of him at this moment. He’s coming apart at the seams with his feelings for Eddie, and he’s done trying to pretend that they’re anything but that.

“Oh my God, ” Eddie mutters, bringing his hands up to hide his face. It’s so endearing. Steve is endeared. “Sorry, fuck. I don’t know why I just said that.”

“Jesus Christ, dude.” Steve’s still grinning down at Eddie, moving his hands to clasp around Eddie’s wrists, trying to pry his hands away. He never wants to not be looking at Eddie. He’s so fucking weird and Steve likes him so much. “I like you so fucking much .”

Eddie lets Steve pull his hands away, and he…there’s no other word for it, Eddie just absolutely lights up. It’s like Steve’s staring directly at the sun. Eddie is beaming up at him, his smile so wide that his eyes are basically closed. He has laugh lines, and Steve is already obsessed with them, already thinking of ways to make Eddie smile this wide, this radiant all the time.

“Yeah?” Eddie asks.

“Oh, yeah,” Steve confirms. “Just ask Robin. I’ve been whining about it for weeks .”

Eddie laughs again, his grin not dimming in the slightest, and Steve just has to taste it—has to get his mouth around Eddie’s happiness. So, he swoops back in, feels Eddie’s laughter transfer to him via their connected mouths, feels a piece of himself that’s long been looking for a home finally slot into place.

#LOOK #i just think eddie is the type of person to say the most interesting facts at the worst possible time #and i think steve is kinda into that #idiot 4 idiot yknow?#anyway no idea where this came from #this fic struck me like a fever and would not leave until i purged it #so enjoy!#steddie #steddie fic rec #steve harrington/eddie munson #steve harrington/eddie munson fic #steddie fan fiction #my writing

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idyllcy · 7 months

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oops... i got married || TO SOME STRANGER!??!?!?

word count: 1.4k || Fic 5 of oops... i got married

summary: I'm gonna be fr with you. Your new malewife is a little sus

You get married as a joke.

Yes, there are limits to how much you can drink. Yes, there are limits to how insane you can get while drunk— but apparently getting married is not within that limit. You get married to some random guy— SERIOUSLY. SOME RANDOM DUDE. You wake up to a legally signed marriage document and them in your kitchen, and you blink at the confirmation email on your phone and then at your new lover at the door.

"You're going to be late for class."

"What the fuck?!"

You pause at the sight of your new husband, some random man, white hair and red eyes, and you pause. Did you get transmigrated? Are you in an isekai fic? Is this your main character moment? Seriously, how the hell did you manage to bag some random ass man!???!!? WHAT. WHY IS HE HOT.

"Wait." You pause. "How do you know I have class?"

"The backpack." He points. "Now, hurry on up now."

That does NOT explain how the hell you met your husband. Yet, you don't have time, grabbing breakfast from his hand as he waves goodbye to you at the door. Great day to pay expensive ass rent but live right next to campus. You wonder if your husband lives someone. You feel kind of bad that he had to take you home after you got plastered yesterday. But. That does not excuse the fact that he looked suspicious as fuck while staring at you sleep. Also, how the hell did he agree to marrying you? WHY.

You huff as you walk back to class, pausing and blinking when a piece of the ceiling breaks off and slams into where you were sitting, somehow missing all of your belongings by a hair. You blink, stupefied, grabbing your stuff from under the ceiling as you evacuate the lecture with the rest of the students. Someone hates you... or something. You don't know. You're surprised you didn't just die while drunk. Sometimes pianos fall out of the air and try to bomb you. Also, you have a husband to go home to now! He'd be sad if you suddenly died... right?

Wait. What even is his name?

"Casper." Your husband rolls his eyes as you pout. "You forgot your own husband's name?"

"Uh huh." You blink. "Are you just going to be my househusband now?"

"I don't see why not. Anything interesting happen today?"

"Oh!" You grin. "A piece of the ceiling slammed into my seat, but luckily for me I was in the bathroom. My stomach problems saved me for once."

Your husband gives you a smile half between concern and amusement. (he would have to try harder next time— what. that was not him. who said that.)

"I'm glad you're safe."

"Yeah?"

"Mhm." He pauses. "Do you get acid reflux in the morning?"

"If I eat and sleep immediately after." You mumble. "Why?"

"Hotpot." He hums. "Spicy hotpot. Eat up."

Your eyes light up, brightening as he hands you a bowl of rice, watching as you dig in, humming happily as you watch him put his own bowl down.

"Is it good?"

"Mhm!" You beam. "Where'd you learn to cook?"

"I live alone." He hums. "Someone has to do the housework around my place."

"How about currently?"

"I live a little... far away." He pauses. "It would be hard for me to see you every day if I don't live at your place. Besides, my job is in the area."

"Will you move here? Or..."

"No. My management provides housing for free." He smiles. "Oh, the food's going to get cold."

You pause. "Can I apply?"

"No. We don't take applications."

"WHAT." You groan. "Ugh. I knew it was too good to be true. You probably sold your soul for it or something."

Casper doesn't speak up, placing a slice of lotus root in your bowl. "Eat up."

You raise a brow but don't pry further. It's not your problem if your husband sold his soul. At least he's hot.

Maybe he's secretly trying to eat your soul... demons... that checks out honestly. You did have a bad stroke of luck when it came to unfortunate situations, and you had an even more comedic one when it came to avoiding them. Always nearby, never you. You wonder if that would curse your husband. Though, from the looks of it, your husband would probably steal someone's soul before that curse could even lay a hand on him.

"What are you looking at?"

"You're very hot." You grin.

You laugh when you notice your husband turn red.

The vast majority of your days pass relatively calmly, and you grow into a comfortable pattern with your husband... that is until your husband shows up with a black card and tells you that he can cover rent for the rest of your life— that raises some questions. What does your husband even do for work? What is he doing with his life? How the hell does he have a better credit score than you? Where is his money even coming from?!

You force him into the corner of your house one afternoon with a broom in hand.

"Sunshine, I really think—"

"Spit it out." You stare him down. "What do you do for work. I refuse to believe I'm in a kdrama, so spit out something you can back up."

Casper presses his back against the wall, eyes darting to the wall as you shake the broom at him, and he grimaces.

"I'll get fired if I tell you—"

"NO ONE HAS A CAMERA IN MY HOUSE SO SPIT IT OUT"

"I'm a grim reaper."

You pause, blinking at your husband, words processing in your brain.

"I'm a grim—"

"They hire people for that?!" You blurt, pausing. "Wait. No. You're spouting nonsense at me."

"I am not."

"You are."

"Am not."

"Are!"

"Not!" Casper turns around to face you, shaking as your grip tightens around the broom. "Please... go through my closet?"

"So your job is literally... murder?" You pause. "My stay at home househusband is secretly some insane man who goes around killing people?!"

"It's not—"

"Then what is it?!" You raise a brow at him, unconvinced.

"We get a list." He sighs. "And we get everyone's name."

"Wait." You pause. "Why the hell did you agree to marry me then!?"

"That's not—"

You shake the broom at him.

"You were supposed to die years ago but kept avoiding death so I've just decided to marry you to see WHY you're not DYING." Casper braces himself for the broom's impact, but you're too stupefied to give him a proper answer.

"I'm supposed to be dead?"

"Well..." He grimaces. "You can't really... die."

"I'm immortal?"

"Your... soul." He pauses, turning his head to the side. "Your soul is endless, and you constantly give life to those around you... including me."

You pause. "So you married me because I'm a natural healer? Wait. No. You married me to kill me?! This isn't some josei manga, you know?!"

"Yes, but." Casper sighs, shoulders relaxing as you drop the broom. "You are so lovely."

"You're just saying that."

"I am not." He mumbles. "I would have just taken your soul if you were not."

"Oh, so this is pretty privilege?"

"It's not—"

"Wow, Caspie. I thought you actually loved me." You pretend to sigh.

"I do—"

"You didn't kill me because you think I'm lovely? If that doesn't—"

Casper grabs your wrists, holding them in place as he blinks at you, grumbling. "Would you shut up and listen to me for just a second? Goodness, sunshine, I love you. I'd go mad if I did not have you as my beloved."

You tilt your head at him, and he sighs.

"I love you. I'm not going to try killing you anymore."

You sigh, shaking your wrists loose as you press your lips to his, humming. Casper doesn't argue with it, humming as his lips slot against yours, hands moving down to your waist.

"So we aren't getting a divorce?" You mumble.

"No." He grumbles. "What do you want for dinner?"

A smirk spreads on your face as he sighs.

Still. He loves you.

#surprise mf you thought I was never gonna touch that event again did ya #the quality of these fics r like wattpad crackfics to me. send help #☾.fics #☾.events #grim reaper x reader #casper x reader #a date with death x reader #'martha honey I'm coming home— IM BACK IN THE FUCKING BUILDING AGAIN!?!??!' -> me rn

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bothoutsiders · 2 months

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After so many years, Jason couldn't believe he was back to the end. Tied down to a chair, on the floor, and bleeding out.

The wounds he had were throbbing, pain came from different places of his body: head, chest, stomach, and arms. He couldn't feel his legs anymore.

His sight was blurry, and his delirious mind went back to that day. That day when he naively believed in Batman… But he still died.

He closed his eyes, the sound of the building collapsing little by little did nothing to him. He knew what was coming, and even if he could feel the warmth of the fire, and smell the smoke, he suspected the loss of blood would kill him first.

It was a shame, though.

He wished he would have had the courage to confess his feelings. But it was alright because nobody would like to have the dude who almost killed them confessing his feelings for them.

Tim deserved someone better. Someone who isn't fucked up. Someone who wouldn't gamble with death (and lose).

Just as he accepted his fate, he heard a voice calling his name. It wasn't anything new. How many times he had heard the Joker since he came back from the death? How many times he had auditory hallucinations relating that moment in his past life?

"Jason!"

Oh, how cruel was his mind. It sounded just like Tim.

If only.

"Jason, answer me!" The ceiling, not too far from Jason, collapsed and moments later he felt two small hands on him. Were they cold? Warm? He couldn't tell.

"ROBIN!"

"Jason, it's okay. It's okay," it was like a chanting. Was it his mind trying to give him peace before his final moments? "I'm here, Jason. I came for you-- you'll be okay, I promise." There was a pause, followed by a whisper. "... You're losing too much blood."

He wanted to smile, but he didn't have the energy for that. Even so, as a hallucination, it was a good ending. Better than the first time he died. Nothing better than to die in his arms.

"Kon, we are here!"

He just wished this time nobody would bring him back.

(original ask)

#JayTim #prompt #w: story

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chiefdirector · 9 months

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Questioning | Tim Bradford | The Rookie

Part One | Part Two | Part Three | Part Four | Part Five

“Regina was there that day… the day (Y/N) disappeared.” Williamson said, keeping his eyes away from the steely faced detective Harper who sat questioning him. He could have felt her loathing from a mile away. He couldn’t blame her though, he loathed himself just as much, but even so, he couldn’t look at her. “She had some men, guns for hire, I recognised some from previous arrest records-“

“I will need names.” Harper interrupted.

“Sure sure, anything.”

Nyla took her pen out to make note of the former detective’s confession. “Anyway, continue.”

“She brought a file. Photos. She gave them to her, (Y/N) that is. I saw only a couple from where I was. It was a wedding photo of some kind. And one where the dude in it… it was the uh one who arrested me. Tom…?”

Williamson took a moment to readjust himself to the best he could with the cuffs on. “That’s when Regina started talking about getting what’s owed to her. She said something about her husband losing everything because of her… or maybe someone else. It was all so long ago.”

“Her husband, Carter. died in a police raid five weeks after Regina Diaz.”

“Then one of the men aimed the gun. And I ran. I heard a shot but I was gone by that point.”

Harper hummed, looking at the mirror behind her where she knew Tim waited. She didn’t need to see him to know what he was thinking. He had been in that second raid, he had arrested Regina. He had been the one to cause all this. Harper tore her gaze away and back to Williamson again. “When did you next speak to (Y/N) again?”

“Three, maybe four months later she called me. That file had photos of someone. Regina made an offer. She would spare his life but she would hunt (Y/N) down. She would take away his wife like he had taken her husband.”

“So that’s why she stayed away… as to not endanger her husband?”

“Initially.”

“Initially? What does that mean?”

“Around seven months ago, she caught wind of their new operation, she said that she had to finish what she started. I last heard from her five weeks ago, she said that she was making a plan to intervene on their next shipment; she said it was going to be their biggest yet.”

Harper looked up from her notepad, Williamson’s words rushing through her mind. The Diaz family operation has been one of the biggest threats to the war on drugs in a long time. They had gone quiet after Carter had died, it was thought that the rest of them had gone to prison or dispersed into lower ranking gangs. They hadn't been important enough to keep constant eyes on. But they had rallied together, Nyla could tell from the information Williamson provided that they were going to take back what was once theirs and try to expand their control of the drug flow in Los Angeles.

“When was this shipment meant to move out?”

“The twentieth of this month.”

“That’s two days from now.”

—---

Tim found it almost fascinating how quickly and effectively the LAPD could pull together an operation when one of their own was in danger. Multiple officers came together on their days off and some even came from other divisions across LA county. Bodies moved through the station, each with the same purpose, they were here to save her, they were going to save his wife.

“Officer Bradford,” Tim turned around at the sound of Commander West speaking, “Can I have a word?”

Tim nodded before following the Commander into Sargent Grey’s office. He remained standing as West spoke.

“We have gotten in contact with a few CI’s. All of the intel seems to line up. We have called in the metro division, and have federal agents on stand-by. As you know, we have a full house of officers lining up for this bust…”

“Sir, if I may? What are you trying to say?”

West sighed, trying to pick his words carefully. He had been the one to clear all of the paperwork and the legal grey areas when Tim had originally worked on his wife’s case. “What I'm saying is that you are not needed here. Your judgement is impaired, this is too personal. If we have any chance of bringing Detective Bradford home where she belongs, we need to have everybody who is in on this to have their mind focussed on taking down this cartel movement.”

“I have to be there. I can’t leave this to anyone else. I- I failed her once, I can't do that again.”

“I understand. I really do.” West paused again, this time he took a moment to collect himself. “If this was my wife, I would be just as determined to be on the front lines of this too. But we don’t have margin for error here. So I managed to get a compromise. You will be there, and someone else will be in a car parked just under a block away. When we locate Detective Bradford, you will be called in to retrieve her.”

Tim nodded at his words, trying to bite back the urge to argue with him. He knew that West was trying his best to find a compromise between the grey areas of the LAPD Code of Conduct and Tim’s own drive to do what it takes to save (Y/N). “Who will I be with?”

“Whoever you want.”

“Put me with Chen, but please make sure Lopez is on the front lines of this. (Y/N) trusts her completely.”

“I can do that. Thank you, Bradford, for being so compliant with this… I know it must not be easy for you to take a step back from this operation.”

“No, it isn't.” Tim said, moving towards the door. “But I will do anything to make sure she comes home, even if it means I have to trust others to do what I couldn't.”

“You can trust us, and you will be there for her.”

“I know. Nobody could stop me from doing that, Commander, not even you.”

Part Five | Part Seven

Series Masterlist | Masterlist

Tags: @xceafh @kmc1989 @buba424

Tags are open :)

#tim bradford imagine #tim bradford x reader #tim bradford #the rookie #the rookie fanfic #chiefdirector #bottom of the river

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httpscomexe · 13 days

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Ensnared 5

Summary: Your leg is fucked, but so are you. (This is probably the last chapter, might pick it back up, idk)

(Find What I’m currently writing by checking my pinned post)

Parings: Yandere!Logan Howlett x PlusSize!Reader

Warnings: Mentions of past injury with some description, anxiety and stress, mentions of medicine, aggressive dog, manipulation, some yandere aspects, violence, knives, attempted knife play, blood, pv, (Individual warnings per chapter) (Logan is an official warning as approved by the FDA (Food and Drug Administration) because Logan is a DRUG. PLEASE BE AWARE that this will be a NON-CON fic. Do NOT get attached if you do not like non-consensual fiction. I will not change my fic plans because somebody decided not to read the warnings. Thank you)

Tags: @sammyluvsfics

Word Count: 2838 (Find all chapters here)

P.S. If you’d like to be tagged, ask in the comments, you also have permission to send an ask, but make sure it is NOT anonymous, so I know your username, don’t worry, I’m scared of confrontation too. But this is a SAFE SPACE where I will not judge. Thank you again.

Your leg was healing well, considering the crushed bones, enormous scars, and bloody bandages that had to be replaced at least once a day.

It hurt like fucking shit.

You were constantly stressed. The pain in your leg was unbearable when you weren’t either taking pain medications or in a deep sleep after taking sleeping medicine. Then there was also Logan. He was sweet to you, so you didn’t understand why your body rejected him so much. You suppose it was because you naturally couldn’t be attracted to the man that kidnapped you, murdered someone you knew, and then acted like everything was okay.

The bear trap was your fault, you should’ve stopped when he said it was unsafe.

Spilled hot coffee on yourself? You weren’t paying attention.

It was also your fault that the mailman died. Even though it was his three claws that stabbed into the man's throat. But you shouldn’t have whispered ‘help.’

Everything bad that happened, it all led back to you.

And no, there weren’t any twisted mind tricks, or shit manipulation tricks that were making you believe it was truly your fault. It was just literally your fault.

Everything that happened that was bad could’ve been stopped if you were just more careful, but it was hard to be careful when you were walking on eggshells in front of this man. You knew he wouldn’t hurt you, but even if he did, say… backhand you, it would be your fault for provoking him. And that wasn’t easy.

A bark comes from beside you on the couch. The pitch black german shephard was staring at your sandwich, that was the only time Logan ever defended you, because the dog was trained to watch you, and bite you if you’re being an ass.

“Shut up dog.” He didn’t even bother giving the dog a name. He’s settled for calling him ‘dog.’ But the boy still listens, stepping off the couch and moving to lie down in his dog bed upon hearing Logan's angered voice. “You need to teach that dog to respect you.”

“You’re the one that trained him to kill me.”

“No, I trained him to keep you inside and hurt you only if you managed to get out.” He explained for the 5th time this week, you could tell he was starting to get annoyed.

“Well he bit me the other day…”

“Because you raised your voice at me.”

“You were being mean!” Your voice squeaks, and you turn around to face him in the kitchen. He was wearing his white beater and thick jeans, the teddy bear socks you ordered for him were on his feet, keeping him warm.

Was it wrong to admit you still loved and cared for him?

Probably.

But you did. When you had felt his feet on your thighs a few weeks ago because he was using you as a footrest as you two watched Bambi, his feet were absolutely freezing. “Holy shit dude, did you just come inside after walking in the snow barefoot?” You had pushed his feet off your lap, and he eventually let you search online for some socks. It took some convincing, but he eventually ordered the fluffy teddy bear socks. And now he wouldn’t stop wearing them.

You were just happy he was warm.

“Whatever.” You mumble after he doesn’t answer you, but he walks over to sit next to you on the couch. You still had a pillow placed on your lap which you’ve been cuddling all day and night, the word ‘home’ written on it in bold brown letters, making it pretty homey honestly.

“Whatever?” He groans as he sits down.

“What’re you groaning about old man?” You lean forward slightly, and he chuckles, your powers picking up the vibration in his chest which makes you feel fuzzy.

He was so sweet to you when he was in a good mood.

“Come here puppy.” He pats his lap, and you quickly move forward, tossing your pillow to the side to cuddle into him like an actual dog.

The way he wants you to.

You were the puppy, and he was the owner. He told you, followed by your smart ass biting him at every chance you got. He was honestly lucky you still had enough decency to not shit and piss on the floor out of spite.

But for some reason, you grew on him.

“Good girl…” He whispers, holding you close against his chest, not tight, as he wanted you to be comfortable.

He was always warm, especially his feet. It always brought a sense of happiness and comfort to you, even after you two fought.

You look down at the dog, he’s resting already, snores coming from his nose. But you know he’s still watching your every move somehow.

“Are you okay?” You nod, leaning further against him, seeking the most warmth you could as his hand moves under your shirt to start rubbing circles on your back, something he’s learned that you love, considering it makes your face redden.

“I have a question…” You mumble against his chest, part of you hoping he didn’t hear you.

“What’s the question?” You’re quiet for a moment, debating how to ask it.

“Promise you won’t get mad at me?”

“If you think I’m going to be mad, then I’m probably gonna be mad. Ask it.”

“What do you plan on doing with me…?” Your voice shakes slightly, and you begin to pick at your skin nervously when he doesn’t answer. Gently, he sits you up, making it so you look into his eyes. Your faces are just inches apart.

“Are you scared?” He asks, his voice quiet like he’s speaking to a horrified child.

You nod.

You hated to admit it. But you were scared.

He scoffs, shaking his head slightly at your movement. “Why would you be scared of me?” He grins, his hands cupping your cheeks, making you look even chubbier. “I love you, my angel… I wouldn’t ever do anything to hurt you…” He finishes his sentence with a kiss. His lips feel like poison against yours. “I love you.” He says again, his forehead pressed against yours. “Say it back. Say you love me.” He demands, grip tightening.

“I love you too… Logan.” You say his name with venom laced around every word like a snake choking their next meal. Then you had an idea. “Can I please get some water?” A smirk grows on your face, and you rock your hips slightly against him, biting your bottom lip. You’ve never been a seductress, but the growing tent in his pants tells you you’re doing good.

“Of course baby, go ahead.” He lets go of you, and you slowly stand, making sure to make nice sways of your hips as you move into the kitchen, reaching up and grabbing a glass, which you fill with water from the sink.

Your plan was simple. Though you weren’t too sure how it would play out.

You hear light feet behind you, the dog was going to sleep for the night. That makes you worry less. Looking in the reflection of the microwave, you could see Logan was looking away, so you quickly reach over, stealing a knife out of the knife block, shoving the blade into the back of your panties, making sure not to cut yourself, leaving the handle sticking out.

You take a deep breath, and begin to walk back over to Logan who was now facing the TV, both of his arms draped over the back of the couch. His eyes find you, smiling above your glass of water as you take a sip, your devilish eyes on him.

“That’s a different look.” He sits up slightly, but you keep him down by straddling his lap. “Am I finally winning-?” Your lips attach to his, the glass still in your right hand while your left hand gently grabs his jaw.

“You want me Logan?” You whisper, the sound making his hips jerk up against you, and his hands move to your hips. You had to move before he found the knife. His lips quirk into a smile, then he suddenly flips you over onto your back, the blade of the knife cutting your skin slightly, causing your hips to jerk upwards against him, a moan coming from his lips as they attach to the skin of your neck, his body still grinding against yours.

You try to reach behind your back, but it’s almost impossible to lift your body with his fucking boulder of a body lying on top of you.

“Are you lying on something?” His fists move to the sides of your head, then he leans on his forearms, giving you enough room to lift your back up, reach behind your back…

“Logan…” You whisper his name, the smile on your lips gone.

“Yes love?” He sounded so innocent.

“I fucking hate you.” You chuckle a little, then in the blink of an eye, the silver of the kitchen knife disappears in the side of his neck, a gurgle coming from his throat as he looks down at you in confusion, his face reddening and his mouth hanging open slightly before he collapses on top of you. SHIT. He was fucking heavy. It was like an elephant decided to take a nap on your chest. “Shit, get off!” You shout, struggling to move him, having to use your entire body as you manage to slip out from under him, making him fall onto the floor with a loud thump, the knife still sticking out of his throat as you quickly run into his room, grabbing a jacket and his truck keys before darting back out.

And your stomach turns.

He’s standing there. Perfectly fine.

He stands in front of your exit, his fingers wrapped around the handle of the knife, and he yanks the blade out, blood only gushing from his neck for a moment before you watch as the wound closes in just a few seconds. It takes a moment to realise he’s looking at you now, his key ring around your pinky finger as you stare at him in fear.

“No… Logan- Just hear me out-” You stutter as he approaches you, picking up the knife he threw to the floor as his walking becomes faster, backing you against a wall.

“What the fuck was-”

“I’m into knife play…” You spit it out as if it was a true confession. No, you weren’t into it. Or at least you’ve never tried it.

“You’re into knife play?” You nod your head. “Yea I knew that wouldn’t kill you.”

He stares at you for a long moment before speaking again.

“Well that’s good to know. Get in the bed.” He demands, taking a step back so you could manoeuvre into the bedroom. “Come on, clothes off.”

“Logan-”

“Clothes. Off.” He repeats, pointing towards the bed with the kitchen knife, and you finally listen. You watch from the bed as he lodges the knife between the crack of the door and the wall, pulling the door slightly to see if it could budge, and it doesn’t. “Knife play, huh?” He checks, moving to the bed and pulling your legs closer until they are hanging over the bed, and he settles himself between them. “Sounds fun.” He tells you, then suddenly reaches into the bedside draw, pulling out a pocket knife, flipping it to reveal a sharp blade. “Let me just make sure it’s sharp enough.” He grunts, lifting your arm, drawing the edge of the blade just barely over your forearm, and it easily leaves a paper like cut, making you wince. “Perfect.” He grabs the back of your thighs, and throws you further onto the bed, quickly crawling between your legs, the knife positioned on your stomach, keeping you still.

“Logan-”

“Shut up you fucking liar.” He growls, pushing his lips onto yours as he uses the knife to pull your panties aside, flipping the tool to rub your clit with the handle.

“Shit-”

“No, I said shut the fuck up.” He stops, and his eyes stare into yours.

Now you have a decision.

Let the asshole hurt you, and possibly walk away without getting fucked.

Or give into your desires.

The option wasn’t hard to decide.

“Sorry… daddy…” You moan, rocking your hips slightly, searching for some friction.

If you were going to be stuck here, you might as well enjoy it. But you weren’t too sure he would ever get over the knife kink after he was done with you.

“Daddy, hm?” He smirks, and you feel his body because less tense, less angry as he lies on top of you. “Stay still angel.” He tells you, putting the knife to the side for a moment as he pulls his shirt over his head, and your eyes stare at his body. It was like looking into a bag of freshly baked Hawaiian rolls. You might’ve made it a joke about wanting to bite him before. Being his ‘puppy,’ but now you really wanted to bite him. To taste him between your teeth.

Savour him.

“Mm… Please Logan…” You moan his name. You weren’t sure what had come over you, but now you wouldn’t be able to resist him. You need him.

“Begging too, I like it…” He reaches down, unbuttoning his jeans and removing his belt, tossing the belt to the side before tugging down his jeans slightly, and pulling out his cock, red and angry, already leaking precum. You wanted to just wrap your lips around him, feel him and taste him in your mouth, take him deep down in your throat. “Should see the ways your eyes are growing… Now you definitely look like a fucking puppy.” His lips attach to your throat, biting the lobe of your ear and tugging slightly as his hand rests on your waist, his other arm on the bed, being careful not to crush you this time.

His hand moves, lifting your waist slightly, and you take the hint. Wrapping your legs around his waist and he hooks his finger in the lace of your panties, pulling and breaking it easily before ripping them off completely and throwing them aside.

He pushes into you without any warning, not wanting to waste another second as his lips never leave your skin. You were slightly jealous, but you couldn’t even voice it, the only sounds that came from your throat were the pleasured moans drawn out by the thrusting of Logan's cock into your cunt, giving you to time to adjust as he ruts into you like a starved dog and you’re in heat. You loved it. It felt amazing. You’ve let plenty of larger men fuck you, but barely even thirty seconds into allowing Logan to fuck you, you already felt brainless. Jumbled words of desire, a few ‘daddy’ies and a couple ‘feels so good,’s all leaving your lips as he slams his hips against yours, his hands eventually gripping your thighs and spreading you further as he moves your legs to rest on his shoulders, you barely even notice the movements. Then he forces himself into you harder, his cock lathering your walls with your juices as he makes you cum, your eyes rolling to the back of your head as you let him use you like a doll.

A few minutes pass, and you weren’t sure when, you weren’t sure how, but you at some point move to sit on top of him, riding him like you had the energy of a twelve year old boy seeing the lego store in a mall,bouncing and rocking your hips like your job was just to fuck Logan, and his hips also rock against yours, his entire dick balls deep inside of you as you both lather what most would consider the most disgusting kisses all over eachother lips, spit and some tears from your own eyes covering eachothers lips as you both slobbily kiss eachother, his own lips eventually finding one of your nipples as he licks and bites it, your hands moving to his shoulders to keep yourself steady before his body suddenly shifts again, now you’re against the headboard, and he’s rutting into you again, the bed shaking viciously while his mouth smothers yours, and your mouth smother his.

Then his constant thrusting seems to get faster, and you feel your stomach tighten. You’re both close, and he doesn’t let up.

“Where, puppy… Tell me where…” He says with emotion laced in his face. You knew where he wanted you.

“Inside… Please Logan, inside…” He moans, his body rippling slightly and you feel his warmth seep through you, covering your walls in white. He thrusts a few more times before pressing another kiss to your mouth, more of a peck, then he rests his forehead on yours. “Does this mean you’re done with your stupid attitude?” He asks, you shake your head.

“You’ve gotta try harder than that…”

#marvel #marvel smut #fanfic #marvel fanfiction #x reader #smut #wolverine #logan howlett #logan x reader #wolverine x reader #ensnared

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bitethedevil · 3 months

Text

Living with The Devil You Know (Raphael x Tav): Chapter 10

Chapter: one, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten, eleven, twelve, thirteen, fourteen, fifteen, sixteen

Read this fic on AO3 (Link)

Fic Summary: Tav broke their agreement by handing the Crown of Karsus to Mystra instead of Raphael. Not only that, but she also robbed his house and killed his incubus. Raphael is patient and he is determined to get his revenge.

…Tav isn't too bothered. She will figure something out eventually. Until then she just has to find a way to live peacefully with a devil.

Chapter Summary: Tav's companions finally comes to her rescue, though the master of the house comes home before they can escape.

AN: Oh boy...one more chapter after this one, my dudes. It's officially the chapter before the last one. I originally wrote another chapter between the last one and this one, but I just wasn't happy with it and I thought it was redundant, so I removed it. I am getting emotional over these two. Tav is going through it in this one, and so was the author lol.

TRIGGER WARNING: Parental Abuse, Depictions of Trauma

Tav had a nightmare. She was on the floor of her childhood home again, getting beaten by her father. She had experienced nightmares like this a hundred times before. She was forever reliving the incident in her dreams.

She struggled to get up off the floor. Every time she moved, he would only beat her harder. Then her mind snapped, and she managed to push him back. She cast the grease spell, making him slip on the floor. Her father looked up at her with a look of both surprise and deep hate.

“What do you think you’re doing, girl?!” her father yelled at her, trying to get up from the slippery floor but failing.

“Tav! Stop this!” she heard her mother cry out in her panicked voice from across the room when she saw the flame in her hand.

Tav threw the firebolt at him and he went up in flames. She heard her mother scream. For some reason, he never died when she was having those nightmares. He just kept staring at her as he was burning, with that face of horror that she had seen that day.

She caught her mother’s arm before she ran to him.

“Mama, no,” she pleaded and tried to pull her away. “Mama, leave him. We need to get out.”

Her mother kept screaming and sobbing, trying to pull herself out of her grip to go to her father who was burning. The fire was spreading to the rest of the house.

“Please,” Tav pleaded with tears in her eyes. “We deserve to be free…”

Her mother turned her face, just as she had done back then and in every nightmare after, though something was different this time: it wasn’t her mother’s face. It was her own.

“Let me go!” Tav heard her scream in her own voice. “I don’t want to be free without him…”

Tav froze and loosened her grip, as she slowly stepped back away from the flames. She saw her own form run to the burning figure of her father. She noticed that her father had changed shape as well. He had horns and wings…

She heard the sound of the house giving in around her, and she ran as fast as she could. As she did, she heard her own name being called again and again:

Tav, Tav, Tav…

She ran faster.

“Tav,” she heard a voice say and felt a hand shake her arm.

She woke with a sharp inhale. She looked around the room panicked, blinking her eyes to figure out what was going on. There were people around the bed, and someone had their hand on her arm. She looked at the person and blinked.

“Gale?” she asked gently.

Gale smiled at her. She flung her arms around him and hugged him. She felt her eyes start to tear up.

“You stupid idiot,” she sobbed and laughed in relief. “I told you not to come.”

“Told you,” she heard a familiar voice say.

She squinted at the dark-clad figure behind him who spoke. He was covered head to toe with not an inch of skin showing.

“Astarion?” she asked.

“Hello darling,” Astarion said in a muffled voice from under all the fabric covering him.

Her eyes moved to Shadowheart.

“And Shadowheart,” she spoke quietly. Shadowheart smiled at her. “You’re all here…”

“For now,” Shadowheart said. “We need to get a move on if we don’t want to get caught.”

Tav nodded and sprang out of bed, to quickly throw on a robe. She was still somewhat disoriented and not entirely awake.

“Wait,” Tav said and looked at them as she hurriedly fastened her robe. “The hammer…Did you find it?”

“Yes, we have it,” Gale said and gestured to Astarion.

Astarion pulled it out of his bag and handed it to the strongest of the four of them, which was Shadowheart.

Tav breathed a big sigh of relief. She quickly got to the floor to lean her wrists against a flat surface for Shadowheart to swing the hammer.

The hammer crashed down on both of the metal constructs, and they fell apart, freeing her. She rubbed her wrists and scratched the itches she could not reach for all those days in her captivity. When the moment of relief had passed, she looked at her friends.

Gale was squinting at her face.

“What happened to your face?” he asked in a concerned voice and pointed to the burn scars. “Did he do this to you?”

Tav blinked and then shook her head.

“Long story,” she said hurriedly. “Doesn’t matter. We need to get Hope and we need to get the fuck out of here.”

“Right,” Gale said. “You will lead the way and we will follow you. We are using an invisibility spell to move around, but we should still avoid running into anyone in case someone should see that you are not in chains anymore and alert Raphael.”

“Good, yes,” Tav said quickly and nodded.

They made their way to Hope’s cell. Hope was excited to see them. They were less excited to see her when they saw the beholders and the imps surrounding her.

They managed to kill them, but they had used a lot of energy on it and most of them were seriously wounded after the fight. It made it even more important to avoid Raphael, because they would most likely not survive a fight if it came down to it.

They freed Hope and Tav was rushing them to get out of there. She was paranoid about the fact that Raphael might return at any moment.

“Would it be possible to circle back to the restoration pool before we leave?” Gale asked.

Gale was in pretty bad shape, as was Astarion.

“No,” Tav said. “I’m sorry, but I don’t want to take any chances. Raphael could be home any minute. I think we should just run for it and hope for the best.”

“No need to worry about that,” Gale said. “We have someone at the portal who will alert us if he does.”

“Doesn’t matter,” Tav said. “If Raphael is already in the house, we can’t get out. It will come down to a fight if he does and I’m not sure we would survive that with the team we got here. No offense, guys.”

“None taken,” Astarion said.

“You don’t understand,” Gale said. “He is one of Raphael’s warlock’s who have gone rogue. He knows his comings and goings.”

Tav froze and her eyes widened.

“Cassius…” she said quietly.

“You know him?” Gale asked.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” she mumbled in frustration. “Alright, we rush to the restoration pool and then we go to the foyer. Prepare for a fight.”

“See, Gale?” Shadowheart said, sounding frustrated. “I knew we shouldn’t have trusted him!”

“But I don’t understand, I—” Gale said but he was interrupted by Tav.

“It doesn’t matter right now!” she yelled. “Let’s GO!”

They rushed out of there. It suddenly made all the sense in the world that Cassius would forgive her so easily. He was not out to help her. She was sure of it. He was out to remove her from the picture and further Raphael’s original plan. He had found the hammer and told them where it was, that was why she had run into him a couple of days prior.

They took a dip in the restoration pool and ran as fast as they could to the foyer where the portal was. She would kill Cassius on sight when she found him. Unfortunately, she did not get the chance, because the second she entered, she saw Cassius smirk at her, and Raphael appeared a second later in his devil form.

There was a look of betrayal and surprise on his face when he locked eyes with Tav, but it quickly turned into a look of anger.

“My, my…What do we have here?” Raphael said with a sneer. “It seems that despite my leniency, you have decided to defy me. Perhaps I have been naïve to expect better of you, little mouse.”

“Raphael…” Tav said quietly.

“I made a promise to you, did I not?” Raphael said. “When your friends would come knocking, I would kill them and then you…and you know I always keep my promises.”

Tav was breathing hard, and her heart was in her throat.

“I also know you always deal fairly,” Tav said. “This isn’t fair, Raphael.”

“Fair?” he said in a dangerously low tone and walked closer to her. “I have dealt fairly with you and what did I gain from it? You did not deliver the Crown of Karsus to me, and you robbed my home. I have been more than fair to you. Have you been rotting in a cell for your crimes? Have you suffered? You have not…So do not speak of fair to me.”

Tav held his gaze when he spoke even though she was terrified. Then she turned her eyes to Cassius who was smiling behind him.

“Your warlock convinced my friends to come here, even though it was your plan to leave them alone and keep me here,” Tav said as calmly as she could. “He was here to snoop around a couple of days ago and I should have told you, though I did not in my wildest imagination think that he would go against your orders like this.”

Raphael narrowed his eyes at her and growled in frustration before turning to look at Cassius. Cassius’s smile was wiped off his face the second Raphael looked at him.

“I-I-I only lured them here,” Cassius stuttered. “It was their choice to do it. Her choice to get freed from her chains. Can’t you see? That’s what she had been planning the whole time. She acts like she’s loyal to you, but she’s not. I am! She was just waiting for an escape. Wasting your time and—”

“Quiet,” Raphael ordered sharply and was quiet for a moment before looking at her friends. “Which one of you imbeciles were the brains behind this little plot of yours?”

Gale cleared his throat and stepped forward. Tav noticed he was slightly shaking.

“Gale Dekarios,” Raphael purred with a dangerous smile. “Would you be so kind and explain to me what role my unruly warlock played in all of this before I send you to that goddess you hold so dear?”

Gale explained how Cassius had sought him out, and how he had been skeptical about him at first. He explained how he had used an Elixir of Truth on him to see if he was lying.

“And what did you ask him?” Raphael asked.

“If you had ordered him to lure us into a trap, which he denied,” Gale explained.

“Hm,” Raphael hummed and nodded.

Raphael turned his attention back to Cassius. He looked terrified. The scraps of sympathy that Tav would have had for him had died when he had knowingly led her and her friends to their deaths.

“Any last words before I send you to the dungeons, boy?” Raphael asked calmly.

“No, NO!” Cassius protested and started sobbing. “I only did it for you. It was all for you. I thought you would see what I saw. She doesn’t deserve your time. She doesn’t love you—”

Raphael snapped his fingers and Cassius disappeared. Raphael turned back to face them. Tav wondered if it was their turn to face his wrath now, but he just looked at them for a moment.

He snapped his fingers again and suddenly Tav was alone with him.

“No…” Tav said and looked back to where they stood a moment ago. “What did you do?”

Raphael smiled cruelly at her fear.

“What did you do?” she asked again, and tears welled up in her eyes.

“Sh-sh-shh,” Raphael shushed and stopped a tear from rolling down her cheek with his finger. “I sent them back to Baldur’s Gate.”

It did not stop her from crying, because that would mean that it was most likely his plan to imprison her again and continue on as if nothing had happened. She felt utterly hopeless in the moment. Speaking of, where was Hope transported to? To the Gate or back to the dungeons? Tav guessed the latter.

Raphael’s cruel smile faltered slightly as he caressed her cheek. He let his thumb follow her burn scars. It was as if he was entranced with them for a moment.

“You will never let me go, will you?” Tav sobbed.

Raphael was still quiet, looking at her scars. His eyes moved to hers for a moment. He leaned forward to plant a kiss on the top of her head. He buried his nose in her hair like he always did and took a deep breath. He looked at her in the eyes for a moment. There was something that looked like grief in those orange eyes of his.

He let go of her and his face quickly turned into a calm and collected expression. He stepped to the side.

“Go,” he said and moved away from the portal. “Leave.”

She froze and looked at him.

“What?” she said.

“I said go,” he said sternly. “Make no mistake…Your soul is still mine and I will come to collect one day, but until then you are free to grow old and enjoy that freedom you so clearly long for. I don’t want you here anymore.”

She felt that last sentence in her heart. As if something broke inside her. Instead of sadness, she turned to anger at him. Even now he was playing with her. She did not believe him.

“Why?” she asked. “Why would you do that?”

“Because you are in my home and I do not wish for you to be under my roof anymore,” he explained calmly, though she could see it was a façade hiding something else. “You have been a distraction for too long. I let Cassius go right under my nose because I was too busy with you. You have taken enough of my time, and I want to be rid of your company. Leave or I will transport you there myself.”

She chuckled bitterly and a tear ran down her cheek.

“I hate you…” she said harshly and looked up at him.

“Likewise,” Raphael purred with a smirk, though it faltered slightly at her words. “Goodbye, dearest…”

She sniffled and dried her tears before walking through the portal.

When she was on the other side of it, she bent down and held onto her knees. She broke down. She could not breathe and started hyperventilating. She felt like she wanted to throw up. She did not even hear her friends running up the stairs to the room she was in.

“Tav! You made it!” she heard Gale’s relieved voice call out.

They crowded around her, making her breathe even harder. She felt like she was going to faint.

“Give her some space,” she heard Shadowheart say.

Tav sat down on the floor and started sobbing loudly.

“Oh darling…” Astarion said sympathetically and sat down on the floor beside her. “You’re safe. You made it.”

Astarion no doubt recognized what she was going through as he broke down in much the same way when he was freed from Cazador. He gently put a hand on her back which only made her sob even more. She had so many conflicting feelings that were just rushing to the surface, that she had no idea what she was even crying about.

Relief? Sadness? Grief? Fear? All of them? None of them? She just knew that she wanted to cry and scream.

She heard someone else come up the stairs.

“Hells…that’s usually the reaction of those who enter, not those who leave,” Helsik said when she saw her. “Is everything alright up here?”

“Give us a moment, please,” Gale said to her and politely gestured for her to leave.

She just kept crying and it would not stop.

They eventually got her home when she had calmed down a bit. They were all quiet for the walk there. Once she got home, she started feeling a little safer and a bit calmer. They all sat down in her living room. Gale wrapped a blanket around her.

She suddenly remembered something.

“Hope?” she asked and looked at Gale. “Did she…was she with you when he sent you back?”

Gale smiled.

“She was,” he said. “She was very grateful, but she ran off. She promised to send a sending spell when she found a place to be. She seemed just as surprised as we were when he let her go…”

Tav was dumbfounded. She could almost not believe it. Hope had been freed like she promised all that time ago, and it felt like a burden had been lifted from her shoulders. Unfortunately, it probably meant that Cassius would take her place instead.

“It’s understandable if you don’t wish to talk about it, of course,” Astarion said while struggling to escape from all the clothing he had been wearing since they had blacked out the windows of Tav’s house with magic. “I just can’t help but be a tiny bit curious about what happened.”

Tav looked up at all of them. They were all looking at her expectantly.

“I’m not sure,” she said quietly. “He let me go. I’m convinced he is still playing some kind of game with me. It can’t be that easy. It never is with him…”

“Do you think you might be in danger?” Shadowheart asked. “I mean…could he mean to send someone to kill you? Do we need to stay here with you?”

Tav shook her head.

“No,” she said. “That’s not how he works. He wouldn’t kill me or physically hurt me. I don’t think so at least.”

“He hasn’t physically hurt you already? I mean…” Astarion said and winced slightly as he gestured to the burn scars on her face.

“He didn’t do that,” Tav said.

She noticed that they looked at each other skeptically, as if she was lying about it for some reason.

“Tav, you didn’t have them when we saw you last,” Shadowheart said.

“He didn’t do it,” Tav said sharply. “He never hurt me intentionally.”

“Intentionally?” Gale asked. “So, he did hurt you.”

“No, he was—” Tav shook her head and sighed. “There was an accident, but he didn’t mean to.”

They all looked at her sympathetically and she hated it. She felt like an insane person.

“Why are you defending him, Tav?” Gale asked gently.

“I am not defending him!” Tav snapped. “He messed with my head a lot, yes, but he never meant me harm. My scars are…”

She trailed off and looked at the floor. She did not want to tell them. It felt completely illogical. She had so easily told Raphael, but she did not want to tell her friends the details of how she got them.

“They are from when I was younger…” she explained. “I used glamour to hide them because I didn’t like the look of them.”

“But he forced you to show them?” Astarion asked a bit confused. “To humiliate you or?”

It pissed her off that they would think that was the case. No, it was not to humiliate her. It was because it is a part of her that she should not be fucking humiliated about, and Raphael, despite his faults, made her see that.

“Why are you all so fucking busy making him into a monster?” she snapped at them. “He is, don’t get me wrong, but it is really annoying that you are trying to force me to feel like a victim.”

“You were kidnapped, Tav!” Gale said. “Of course, you are a victim…Which is why it is worrying to hear you defend him.”

Tav got up from her seat, to walk towards the door.

“Please get out and leave me alone…” she mumbled with an empty stare.

They all looked at her with confusion and worry. She sighed deeply and tried to collect her thoughts.

“I’m sorry…” she said in a calmer voice. “I am really thankful that you got me out, but I need time for myself to sort all of this through. I’m really sorry you had to get into this whole mess, and I can never thank you enough for getting me out of it, but please…I need time.”

“You’ve been through a lot,” Shadowheart said quietly. “If you need us, you know where we are, Tav.”

“Thank you…” Tav said.

They left her.

It was odd being alone in her house. It was too quiet. She was restless, and all she felt like was curling up in bed and crying. So that is exactly what she did. The problem was that it felt even worse. The more time passed, the more it felt weird to sleep alone and in her own bed. Each time she was close to falling asleep, she half expected to feel his arms around her and his nose in her hair.

She cried so much for the whole night. She did not know what was wrong with her…Except she did, but she would not admit it to herself: she was heartbroken, and she missed him.

Damn him.

When she woke the day after, or rather, got out of bed for she had gotten little sleep at all, she stumbled into her living room with her blanket over her. She caught a glimpse of her reflection. She looked like a mess with her puffy and tired eyes.

When she sat down in her sofa, her eyes drifted to the shelf where the hammer had once been. She squinted as she saw something laying on it. She got up to get a closer look.

She sighed and started tearing up once again, as she saw that it was the book that he had given her.

“Oh, you bastard,” she mumbled tearfully to herself as she took the book off the shelf.

She absentmindedly flipped through the pages as she sobbed quietly. A piece of paper fell out of it and landed on the floor. She picked it up and read what it said. It was written in Raphael’s recognizable scrawl:

‘To the fearless woman who stole everything from the devil and lived to tell the tale.

The little mouse caught in the cat’s snare,

No claws unsheathed, no hunter's glare,

But fate was cruel in its silent decree,

For a cat and a mouse, was not meant to be.

The dawn would break, and reality would stay,

And the little mouse would live another day.

A shame that we were not granted the opportunity to give your friends a show, when you play the organ so wonderfully.

May you have many years before I have to collect what is mine, little mouse.

--R’

Trust in Raphael to write the most touching thing she had ever read and allude to the time she was fingered while playing the organ in the same letter. She could not help but smile, cry, and curse at him internally, all at the same time.

She still did not believe it was over. She was still convinced they were playing the game.

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