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aquaquadrant · 2 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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hannyoontify · 4 months

Text

new years kiss w seventeen

warnings | none

notes | yes

seungcheol, hoshi, mingyu, dokyeom

he needs to be dramatic about it

it's your first kiss of the year!! ofc it's gotta be special

he'll probably take you to an event where there's fireworks and a countdown

he'll be so excited the entire time he's there

when the people around you start counting down, he'll wrap his arms around your waist and dip you for a kiss just as the clock strikes midnight

omg or or or

you guys have some space so he twirls you around like those couples in those tiktoks and tug your arm so you end up in his embrace and then he'll dip you and dramatically kiss you

UAGHJDDKLJG

and you KNOW he's been looking forward to this and planning this all year

he'll only come up for air cuz you're giggling so much

look at you afterwards with a bright, lovesick smile and press another peck to your lips before whispering "happy new years baby"

jeonghan, wonwoo, woozi, the8, vernon

rather than going out, the two of you continue your annual tradition of watching the same movie every year/reading/playing a game/(insert here)

you're just eating and talking and hanging out until the clock strikes midnight

even then, you don't look at the clock the two of you just guess based on the sudden burst of fireworks that you hear

you guys are too tired to even check if it's actually the new year

he scooches closer to you and slowly lowers his lips to touch yours

the fireworks in your stomach replicate the ones going off outside of your home

once the fireworks (outside) have quieted down a bit, he'll pull away with a shy smile

"happy new years, love"

joshua, jun, seungkwan, dino

*clears throat* lemme set the scene for y'all

you guys are at a party

some new years party that your friend of a friend's brother's cousin's girlfriend is hosting and you and your boyfriend just happened to be invited to

the two of you drift away from each other for most of the party as you guys interact and catch up with old faces

until people start counting down and he starts to frantically scour and search the room

like my boy's (gently) pushing people aside to try and look for you

is he a little drunk? maybe but he's set on finding you and kissing to you start a new year

luckily he manages to find you just as people are counting down '3... 2...'

with a sly(?) grin, he'll grab your waist with one hand, a drink in the other

and pull you in for a kiss '...1! HAPPY NEW YEAR!!'

AUGHASDLKGJSL

"happy new years honey.. here's to another year of us"

bonus: hoshi, dokyeom, jeonghan(? is a 50/50)

"is it just me or does it feel like 2023 was just yesterday"

reblogs and feedback is always appreciated ^-^

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naompspsps · 17 days

Text

How they would act when you fall asleep on their shoulder Pt. 3

Part 2 (Floyd, Idia & Vil x Nb!Reader)

Summary: You had a long morning, and you didn't even get enough sleep so now you are very tired, But sitting with them in the courtyard during lunch break, while they talk you find yourself falling asleep, your head on their shoulder.

Ft. Epel, Lilia & Malleus x NB!Reader [Seperate] (+Epel mentioning Vil, ofc., Wingman Lilia in Malleus' part, Lilia mentioning Silver in Malleus' part)

A/n: If people are scared of Malleus, Then Imma be the one to go near him. MALLEUS COME GIVE ME A HUG (this man is literally 1 foot and 3 inches taller than me but okay)

Mentions: Epel speaking his own accent cuz Vil aint here. Epel calling you darling at the end of his short story, Lilia calling you love at the end of his short story. MALLEUS NOT KNOWING WHAT TO DO BUT DOES THE MOST TOE CURLING, AIR PUNCHING, BED PUNCHING, OXYGEN NEEDING THING EVER. Fluff<33

(Warning: Character may be OOC from what you think, these are just hcs of how I think they'd act towards their crushiecakes)

! do not repost or translate my works anywhere. do not copy or use my works in any site, Reblogs are appreciated alot though !

Epel

At some point we all just thought he was a female, blame his appearance. (but he's still our pretty manly boy 😔) So he was pissed at you for a while, until you both got along and that was when he realized "oh. I have a crush."

So you sleeping on him is one of the best things to ever happen to him. He would fanboy so much but he knows he has to stay quiet, don't wanna bother you in your sleep or you would give him silent glares. He hates that. He will try not to cry but end up sobbing. He'll do the basic thing, let you rest on him while he reads the rule book Vil made just for him because He kept on doing his own sporty thing.

"This is so darn annoying!" Epel curses under his breath, flipping through the pages. He looks at you; looking at the pages but you weren't reading it, just staring at it's non-existent soul. He doesn't mind it though, he continues his own thing, reading the book so he doesn't have to get another 1 hour of scolding. "Vil.. Always tryna judge me.." Epel mutters. His attention goes back to you as you set your head down on his shoulder and closing your eyes.

"Hey- [Name]??" He tilts his head to the side, checking if you were alright. "Ah. Yer' asleep.. And yer' using my shoulder as a pillow..." He whispers, his face slowly turning red in realization. "Oh.. Oh." He looks away, clearly panicking. What should he do?! Be manly. Be.. Manly. He moves his hand to your waist, pulling you closer while his other hand flips through the pages of the book that's on his lap. "Rest well, Darlin'." He mumbles.

Lilia

Being honest for the millionth time; you don't even need to surprise him. He's been noticing how you've been falling asleep in the most random times ever. Which is why you are on the grass, sitting under the apple tree, to help him and you to hide from the sun. He just tells you to sleep on his lap, with his blazer folded into a pillow on his lap. (Father and son moments LMAOO)

He would probably cook for you later (Im sorry he literally would. Unless you escape from his cooking but 💀💀) so forget about you eating, you can eat later when it's breaktime. You need sleep, energy. How will you do your schoolworks if you're that exhausted? Meaning with no energy, you can get more stressed by having more piles of assignments. He would definitely try to help you do your assignments later, but matters aside, he knows you're tired.

Listening to Lilia's babbles is interesting, one side of you thinks his stories are interesting, but the other side is telling you you're to tired to listen to more. Lilia has had his eyes on you for a while now. While he talks, He's just been folding his blazer and putting it on his lap. "So that's what happened to him, funny, right?" He asks, Pressing the blazer for it to get comfy. "Mhm.." You tiredly nod. Your head slowly falls on his shoulder. "Ah- Just as I expected." He mumbles.

You slowly raise your head to look at him confusedly. "..What?" You ask. "Khee-hee, you're tired aren't you? come here." Lilia holds your hand, his free hand grabbing your head and pulling your head on his lap. "Go take a nap. You must have a hard time in class, yes?" You stare at him for a moment and shrug, getting into positions and sleeping. Seems comfy enough, he can just wake you up if the bell rings. Maybe he can use this as his opportunity, He softly hums a lullaby, a song he used to hum Silver when he was a baby. Once you were fully asleep, he smiles. "Khee-hee- Dream about me love."

Malleus

To start with this, Malleus doesn't even know what to do :D He's just there like 'What do I do???' but you should thank Lilia for teaching Malleus. Lilia just tells Malleus to let you sleep, if he wants he can even let you sleep on him but in a more comfortable position. Malleus fans and lovers, don't go insane but believe me he would carry you with ease and put you on his lap, hugging you.

Lilia just laughs at how he's brave enough to even do that. Once you wake up he probably expects screaming and panicking. Not like the murderous scream, no. The literal embarrassed, simping scream ever. Malleus is happy you aren't afraid to sleep on him and he will continue to let you sleep on him as much as you want<3

"[Name], What do you think about that?" Malleus asks you, who is currently dozing off. "[Name]?" He calls out, eyes slightly widening in surprise as you fall asleep on his shoulder. Watching you sleep peacefully on him, his eyes sparkles. But he goes back to reality, not knowing how to help you. He knows you're sleeping and it's reasonable but, how does he know if your comfortable? "Maybe you should help them get comfortable by letting them lie down on you or.. Hug them." Lilia says, hanging upside-down at the apple tree. "Lilia? What are you doing here?" Malleus looks up, Lilia hums and walks back down to the floor.

"I'm just looking out for you and the others, I'm gonna go find Silver next, He might be sleeping in the hallway again." He takes steps away, but turns back to Malleus. "Take my advice, you really should do either of those." He chuckles, walking away. It just leaves Malleus, looking at you. "Hug.. them..?" He repeats. He softly shakes his head, grabbing your waist, soft enough to not awake you and putting you on his lap, he wraps his arms around your waist, your head resting on his chest. "..Will you have a good dream if I hug you like this?.." He asks and sighing. "I do hope you do."

Author's end note: I hope I didn't accidentally smack any of yall to sleep Lilia, Malleus and Epel lovers because I smacked myself to sleep because of Malleus. I got smacked asleep by my own story.

! do not repost or translate my works anywhere. do not copy or use my works in any site, Reblogs are appreciated alot though !

#twisted wonderland #disney twst #malleus draconia x reader #lilia vanrouge x reader #epel felmier x reader #malleus draconia #lilia vanrouge #epel felmier #Laughs in flushed #Malleus marry me pls

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smileysuh · 6 months

Text

seeing double - TEASER

🌙staring. Johnny & John x afab!Reader

🔮 preview. “As much as I’d love to fuck two of you, I know you’ve always been interested in a threesome with two guys, and we both know I’m too protective to let anyone else touch you. I found this cloning spell and I figured, if there’s one man I can share you with, it’s myself.”

tw/cw. Threesome, unprotected sex, oral, blow jobs, pussy eating, praise, dirty talk, degradation, y/n calls Johnny daddy twice, John calls y/n whore/slut/bitch once each cuz he's an ass, demonic double John is a bit of a dick, anal fingering, deep throating, spit-roasting/Eiffel tower, double penetration (pussy/mouth), triple penetration (pussy/mouth/finger in ass), spanking, choking, biting, punishment, blindfold/sensory deprivation, big dick Johnny, pussy stretching, John cums on her face, etc… I pet names: (hers) baby.

👹 rating.18+ explicit I wc. 6.9k

🍭 aus. Warlock Johnny, established relationship, etc…

☀️ mlist + an. ya'll thought one Johnny was enough for us, but I give you double John- threesome of the year

The lights flicker out, the room going dark aside from the one black candle burning on the altar.

Then, just as suddenly, the lights turn back on, and your gaze shifts to the switch by the door. Your breath catches as you take in the man standing there, one hand lazily touching the switch. Johnny’s double has appeared, and he’s the one who just turned the lights back on.

“Hi, losers.”

While the new Johnny clone is wearing the same white shirt and black jeans combo your boyfriend has on, this Johnny has dark hair. You’ve always loved your boyfriend’s coloured strands, but there’s something so regal about the dark brown- it sets off the sharp angles of his face, and leaves you breathless.

“Who are you calling losers?” Johnny retorts, closing the Grimiore and turning to face the double at the door.

“I’m calling you two losers,” the clone grins. “You’re a loser for wanting a threesome with yourself, and she’s a loser for agreeing to it.”

“You’re a bit of a dick, aren’t you?” your boyfriend laughs.

“Not any more than you. I’m your double, anything I say or do is something you would say or do, well, it would be if you let your demonic side out more often. You’re so good at keeping that part of you under lock and key, but not tonight. Here I am.” The double pushes off from the wall, approaching your boyfriend. “Don’t be mad if you don’t like what you see.”

“I’m not mad about what I see,” Johnny says thoughtfully, “I’m just wondering why your hair is so dark. Thought you were supposed to be a clone.”

“My hair is like your demon side, you can try to cover it up, make it lighter, but this spell always knows your true self. Besides, baby thinks I look good with this hair colour,” the clone’s gaze shifts to you, and he flashes you that classic Johnny grin, “isn’t that right, baby?”

“I-” your words get choked in your throat, and you swallow thickly, looking between your boyfriend and his darker double. “Johnny-”

“Another charade to appear nicer,” the clone clicks his tongue. “Your blonde, soft looking boyfriend might go by the name Johnny. But tonight, you’ll call me John.”

☀️ to read the full fic AND 3.7k bonus NOW, subscribe to my Patreon, then click here

👹 or wait till the fic is posted on tumblr November 17th, 2023

🔮 see what’s already available to read on my m.list

there's a limit to the number of people I can tag, respond/reblog to ensure a tag please :)

#johnny suh #johnny suh smut #nct #nct smut #nct 127 #nct 127 smut #johnny nct #nct johnny #nct johnny smut #johnny nct smut

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fhrlclln · 1 year

Text

con la brisa | k’uk’ulkan/namor

SUMMARY -> out of your own curiosity discovering the unique entrance of the underwater cave had you finding more than you expected while vacationing. the god is intrigued to say.

k’uk’ulkan/namor x fem! reader

masterlist (to be added)

GENRE -> nsfw/smut

WARNINGS -> bpwf spoilers, meet-cute scenario, a lil slowburn, namor is a lil’ bit cold at first & smut as usual (p in v, unprotected sex, oral sex; both!receiving & fingering)

WC -> 7,876

a/n: after watching wakanda forever had me bawling like so much. and so, okay, i know this isn’t my usual writing but i fell in love with the song con la brisa and namor cuz aquapapi. and i thought i’d write a long fic just for him. lIKE THE VISUALS OF THE SCENE IN TALOKAN AND THE SONG!?!?!?!? absolutely amazing and captivating and there’s namor. 😫 but anyways… enjoy my namor smut ig. and happy holidays everyone <3

TRANSLATIONS: YUCATEC MAYA -> máak lu'um - surface dweller/land person, ki'ichpanech - pretty girl, le paalo’ - child , je’el - yes, dejaremos ti' le destino decida - we will let fate decide, in na'atik - i understand, ba'ax úuch - what happened?, jach asab u jump'éel siibal - it is more than a gift, ka ma' in k'áat ka u detenga - and i don’t want it stop, in ts'íiboltikech - i want you, ma'alob - good, ko'ox - let us go, in yakunaj - my love, jats'uts - beautiful, t'aan - speak, táan jach mojado, wáaj tuláakal ti' teen? - it is so wet, all for me? mierda - shit, perfecto - perfect, jach jats'uts yáanal tin - so beautiful under me

likes, reblogs & comments are greatly appreciated !! <3

enjoy !!

it’s quiet.

only the sound of the waves and the sound of the cool breeze hitting your ears envelops your senses. your body is floating above the water, sun hitting your face, eyes closed and relaxed as you let yourself float amongst depths of the sea. the water is cool against your skin, the scent of salt hits your nostrils mixing in with the freshness of the air. heaven is all you can describe at such serene calmness the water offers you this day.

as beautiful the secluded beaches are here in yucatan. you knew better to be not trespassing here. and as stupid it was to swim near night falling, the rays of the sun had turned orange among the horizon of the beautiful ocean. you knew it was time to get back to your hotel you currently resided. but here you are, water still glistening your salty skin, shorts concealing your bottom and your top the bikini you wore still damp as ever. the sun was setting, the trees swayed as you headed back to the direction of where you came from. wary of a chill on your spine erupt as if you felt like you were not alone in the secluded beach.

but as always, fate seemed to spin you to get lost in the woods.

shit. you think to yourself, the unfamiliar path dawning over to you as you sighed to yourself, trees all over your view. you knew the area well enough for the past few days and now was the time you would get lost? unbelievable. you bit your lip, trusting your gut to go further, night already taking over the once pristine blue sky. better to walk and let faith guide you to a road than to stay amongst the wild animals and insects inside the forest. you could say you’ve done one of the stupidest tourist shit you vowed not to do.

the cicadas faintly started to get louder as the darkness took over the forest. you grabbed your phone, turning on the flashlight as the leaves scrunched underneath your feet. the bushes seemed to grow larger as you gently passed by them with your arm shoving them away. expecting the familiar highway to come in view.

but you stopped, the path had ended as you were face to face with a cave of some sort. your eyes sparkled in the dark, suddenly intrigued with this new location you found. a hidden gem in these parts. you cautiously stepped closer to it, feeling as if you’ve entered someone’s territory. you lick your lips, shutting the flashlight of your phone as moonlight filled the area perfectly.

“water?” you mumbled to yourself, bending down to see the small cave was filled with water. “of course it is, dumbass.” you rolled your eyes to yourself, letting your hand touch the cool water.

it rippled beneath your fingertips as you glided your hand to feel the temperature, the scent of sea salt again fill your senses, your curiosity getting the best of you. you noticed how the deep the pool of water was, noting it might be an entrance to a underwater cave of some sort, you guessed. but you needed to go back, remembering the hotel waiting for you.

you looked around once more, guessing that this has been around here for a long time. you smiled, proud to say you would dive in here if you got the chance and the gear to do it. you stood up, brushing yourself from the dirt that sticked to your knees. you turned back and headed to the bushes again, to find another path. for a moment, you adjusted the bag you were carrying, your phone in your hand suddenly slipped from your grasp, hitting the ground with a thud. you cursed yourself for your clumsiness, bending down to grab it. the water in the cave suddenly splashing catching your attention warily.

you froze, slowly standing up, clutching your phone tight as you watch a figure came from the dark depths of the cave. the water splashed around as your heart thump loudly. seeing as a manly figure came in your sight despite the darkness. warnings in your mind erupted, remembering what you had heard of recently.

the man from the sea. a ancient god.

you distinctly remembered the words of the locals and the village elders about a man walking along the shores, feet with wings they had said. their ‘god’ walking amongst them. you don’t know much, but you feared this legend and the god as so did the people here. anything was possible nowadays. but you remained silent, studying his figure as he emerged into the moonlight. stepping in to your view, golden jewelry adorned his neck, he wore only green shorts and other accessories from his wrist to his legs. his feet, however, caught your interest seeing wings adorn them. and ears flourished with a jade like square earrings. he brushes his wet hair back, chest rising as he breathes in the air, his dark eyes finally gazed to yours.

oh, fuck.

you clutched your bag tight against your body, a shiver ran down your spine as his gaze pierced through you. you’ve trespassed. your mind shouts, your heart thumping louder.

“i’m sorry for i-intruding.” you speak up, careful for your tone to be calm and respectful. gears in your mind clicking, his face yet did not react whatsoever other than he steps forward, making you step back cautiously. he seems to notice it, sensing your own fear as he minds himself, creating a presence you knew not to anger. as stoic his expression was, his eyes seem to tell otherwise.

dangerous.

“you’re not from here.” he speaks, breaking your daze when you stare at his face. cold yet curious his tone was. knowingly now you think he’s attractive the more you study him. thoughts then circling how he just came from an underwater cave and ankles with wings on them.

“i’m not…” you nodded, gulping. “i got lost and stumbled here. n-no other intention.” you added, sensing him that he expected another answer.

“no?” he questions, stepping forward again, closer to you, making you freeze on the spot. you breathed out shakily, gazing his eyes that hold a predatory look. he towered over you, intimidating you further.

“no…” you softly said, the atmosphere almost changing, not once did you leave his gaze. a fire in the man’s gaze fueling him elsewhere.

the god stared down at this surface dweller, he hummed, trusting your answer, yet still skeptical. you were not like the other surface dwellers that he encountered coming into the entrance of the cave. you looked innocent enough, a foreigner of the area, a tourist you are. he shifts his gaze to your eyes and to your lips that softly spoke those words of reassurance. he notices your hands tremble, the cold of the night he presumed was getting to you or the fear of him. he’ll let you go, he thinks, merciful enough. the disturbance of the water merely caught his attention, he swam to it, ensuring that his nation would not be discovered.

“who are you?” you asked, astonished now for a man who’s ears you noticed are pointed. the fear slowly washing away. namor was intrigued to say, a curious thing you are.

“i have many names.” he spoke quietly, accent sharpening his words, a wonderful one you deemed as you listened to him. “my people call me k’uk’ulkan.” he gauges your face, seeing it full of wonder.

“but my enemies call me namor.” he finishes darkly, a threat. a warning set in stone. many would have run from him by now but you intrigued him further.

“namor.” you tested the name on your lips. the god felt himself shift in his place, seeing as you turn from his gaze, something stirring inside him after you uttered his name so softly.

“and you are?” he now asks, formalities thrown as you met his gaze again.

“y/n.” you uttered your name as the chill of the night shivered you so. he also tests your name in his tongue, accent enveloping each syllable smoothly with a crisp ending.

“roaming around the outskirts of the village is dangerous, máak lu'um. what has brought you here?” he speaks further, a word so unfamiliar to you. not spanish or what, which fuels your desire to learn him now.

“just took a swim by the beach.” you answered with a shrug. “it’s beautiful out the atlantic ocean.” you added as he hums, nodding.

“you’re not from here as well, are you?” you suddenly ask. he doesn’t look like the locals in the area. his outfit is as different from modern clothing, which in his case is very minimal. he cocks his head to the side as you looked back to the underwater cave. he is taken aback at your forwardness but contemplates whether he should tell you but he only offers a simple answer to your curious mind.

“yes.”

“interesting.” you quipped, examining his peculiar jewelry then to his chest, which catches you off guard how well built he is. tan pecks glistening with water, a fluttery feeling in your stomach making you feel a little flustered for checking him out shamelessly.

“you live there, i presume?” you ask, pointing to the cave. he seems to still, eyebrows tensing as you notice how defensive he is. “not that you need to answer…” you offered weakly, a little scared now.

“mhm.” he grunts, stepping pass you, not answering the question, leaving off a cold aura. he needed you away from here as soon as possible, remembering his intentions from the first place when you disturbed the waters of the entrance.

“come, it is getting late. let me escort you out, ki'ichpanech.“ pretty girl. he offers his arm out, muscle bulging out. you seem to be too trusting as you complied with the strange man with wings on his feet. not knowing how dangerous he can be, a man that has lived for more than a century, a god to his people and a king of a nation sealed from the whole world beneath the depths of the sea.

he is the feathered-serpent god.

“thank you.” you took his arm, walking beside him, arm resting with his making your heart thump. he was warm for a man who just swam in a deep underwater cavern. he smelled like the ocean itself, which was not that unpleasant, you stare at him for a time as you two walked along the woods. leaves scrunching both of your feet.

namor, on his behalf, didn’t expect he’d be talking with a surface dweller for this long nor offering to escort you out the forest. he despised all things that came from the surface world, a land that he swore to himself to hate to the bones. yet now, you who peaked his interest made his usual thinking sputter.

innocent, curious, soft, kind…all things he doesn’t expect. the feel of your skin to his fueled his desire further as he tried to suppress it. noting the way his cock twitch when your fingers brushed against his hot skin.

“are you not cold? it’s so cold out here.” you shivered, unintentionally pressing against him for warmth.

“it is…tolerable, ki'ichpanech.” he amusingly says, watching as your other arm hugged your waist for warmth. your bikini covered breasts pushing up by your arm making him swallow a lump as he looks ahead. intriguing.

“what does that mean?” you ask, glaring at him with a pout.

“ki'ichpanech?” the ancient language rolls on his tongue flawlessly.

“yes.” you looked back to him seeing as the familiar sounds of faint chatter filled your ears. the village must be close.

“a compliment, le paalo’.” he simply explains. “one for you to find out for yourself.” he smirks, making you sigh beside him.

only silence fills the void between you two, an unspoken comfort that had the man beside you wonders how calm you are. being escorted by a man who you just met. he wonders how your pretty little mind works

“you said you have many names.” you started. “what do you prefer to be called?”

“it is up to you what you wish to call me.”

“k’uk’ulkan then?” you uttered, wishing you didn’t butcher the pronunciation. “you said your people call you by that.”

“je’el.” he agrees, which you take it as a yes. a silence transpired again, but it doesn’t take long before your own curiosity gets the best of you. asking him questions now out of the blue, all subjects leading how he swam inside of a underwater cave without any gear and the most asked about his ankles with wings.

namor seemed to tolerate your mind, offering vague answers and none about questions where he resided or came from. he offers you to teach the mayan words he answers along the way, resulting you to ask him if he always knew how to speak english fluently. in return, he asks you as well. you gladly tell him about vacationing alone in mexico, saying that you needed some time away from the work you had back home. and that you just wanted a moment of peace to yourself here by the beaches. exploring, learning about the locals and their culture respectfully.

but in all fashion, it had to end.

which broke your heart slightly when the sound of the locals grew louder. lights from their village enveloping your view as you two arrive in a secluded area wherein the familiar dirt road is.

“you are a strange woman with curious questions.” he begins as you step out of the bushes, facing him with a slight frown.

“says the man who has wings on his feet.” you quip back playfully. he smirks at that, eyes alert as he looks back to see the locals. your heart thumps, wishing for him to come with you. but in his eyes you knew it wasn’t possible even if he didn’t necessarily say it out loud. you just knew.

“speak of this to no one, ki’ichpanech.” he utters, you nodded at this. the situation weird enough for you to obey.

“will i see you again?” you ask gently, hope in your tone. namor feels something stir inside him as he licks his lips, stepping forward as he brings your hand up to his lips, kissing it softly. soft delicate skin. he thinks, a fire set alight to the both of you as his piercing gaze never faltered as your chest rose at the sudden electric feeling.

the hand kiss was a gesture of his growing affection towards you which he fears may not stop. you should be cowering away from him, a man who’s hands are stained with blood for hundreds of years. he shouldn’t even be talking with a surface dweller at all and you shouldn’t see him again, but…

“dejaremos ti' le destino decida.” he only offers those unfamiliar words to you with sincerity. you drew your hand back, not asking anything further as he steps back into the forest, eyes still looking into yours. a series of laughter interrupts the two of you as you look away from for a moment seeing the villagers laughing amongst themselves. you look back to the bushes, only to find that he’s gone.

huh.

you only stood quiet, the scent of sea salt lingering, his warmth you realized you missed. the night grew colder as you think to yourself with a cheeky thought in mind.

you’ll meet him again.

•••

and you did.

countless of times now after a couple of days had passed. the next morning of that faithful night lead you to go back to the same spot you met him, toying with the water, disturbing it when he was already behind you at that time. in which namor wouldn’t say he has been keeping an eye on you whenever you visited the beach again. you were thrilled, greeting him with your smile. he seemed a bit reluctant meeting you again, telling you that you should not be talking with him. you countered back, asking why then he appears before you when he could’ve ignored her. he smiles at that, offering you a chuckle for the first time. his smile catching you off-guard.

“you intrigue me so, ki'ichpanech.” he would say as you two walk along the shores, talking, asking more about him. he tells stories you never had heard of, legends and so.

“you like it.” you’d tease with a grin. he doesn’t affirm but he does agree in the inside.

your growing friendship with the god only grew larger when the days passed and each day he reminded you to never speak about this strange relation you had with him. you only had weeks left before going back home. a month vacation in yucatán was slowly nearing it’s end and you feared you may not get to see your mysterious friend ever again. you had to cherish the weeks left in counting.

and the subtle attraction you were feeling was growing larger.

he showed you the vast hidden wonders the beach hid as he took you for a swim. the corals, the tide pools, even in the deepest parts of the sea. it was so fascinating to you to see him swim so freely, like it was just a normal thing for him. you had already known that he is not human from the first time you met him. further, he only describes himself as a mutant, the story of his mother and how the first of his people came to be. the talokanil.

“my mother mourned to return to the land wherein she once lived.” he speaks, the waves crashing, you two sitting beside each other on the soft white sands of the shore. watching the sunset over the horizon, a beautiful sight to always see. intimate it felt.

“she was human you had said?”

“je’el. she made me a promise to bury her in the soil of her homeland.” you watch carefully how his eyes catch a glimpse of longing. “but nothing could prepare me for what i found.”

a chill ran down your spine seeing his expression drop into the most chilling hatred you could ever seen from a man. the slavery, those spanish men, the corruption of colonialism that had fallen amongst the surface world. wars broke out, diseases everywhere, more and more tragedies you guessed he would have witnessed for living for 500 years. you were somewhat touch to know how he’s opened up to this, to you.

“there’s nothing that would change how us humans would still be.” you began, sympathizing with him and knowing his hatred for the surface world. “humans are greedy. power is their desire, their lust. the world up here is fucked up.” you chuckled airily, staring off to the ocean.

“you seem to harbor the same resentment to your own world, ki'ichpanech.” he says as you shrugged at it.

“the world is too corrupted nowadays.” you rolled your eyes. “work is work, you work then you die. money is in my head always back home. so yeah, i do hate it up here.”

“you desire to be elsewhere? is it why you are here with me?” he grins as you scoffed at him even though it was true as the blush evident on your face was enough evidence. he has been shamelessly kinda flirting with you over the past days—

…you like him, a lot. it was no surprise you had catch feelings for the man. you learned he is kind and somewhat warm underneath the defensive and cold exterior he had put up when you two first met. he longed for his nation to be free from the terrors of waiting for anyone who’d try to discover them.

“you were a nice surprise to me.” you smiled gently. “but yes, it’s a nice escape here out from the city. even though i hate it here, it quite beautiful to live in.”

“in na'atik.” he hums, intrigued to say how one surface dweller could speak so ill about their own home. his resentment towards the surface world was still growing in him. humans are greedy like you had said, but you, out of all the surface dwellers that had tried to come near him or his nation, you merely just stood before him that night. astonished at him, wonders in your colored irises that held a compassionate understanding for him. he feels his chest swell and throat constrict. that same mushy and fluttery feeling that arose to heat his cheeks and the tip of his ears. overwhelming yet so addicting to feel.

what were you doing with him?

namor only watches you as you stare off to the ocean. he wants to picture this moment in his mind, a mural he now wants to paint for you. a story for you, your curious questions about him and your smile that was like the most beautiful pearls of talokan. he doesn’t want to admit it, nor shall he want to think about it now. dangerous it can be, he only hopes that this would last quicker for the sake of both of your hearts. and for his purposely knowing all would might end in tragedy if he is to act on this.

but he is wrong.

•••

another set of days had passed and tomorrow, that you dreaded, you’ll be going back home. it seemed like time had passed by faster than you expected. you stand alone again by the beach, this time a mesh white scarf wrapped around your arms as you take in the sea breeze again, savoring the moment. namor had wanted to see you again as usual, you knew he was either walking along the shore or might emerge from the sea, waiting for you.

but now he was walking towards you, expecting your bright greeting yet he only found you staring at the horizon again.

“ki'ichpanech?” he starts, softly calling for you. the waves crashes again as your sundress swayed with wind. you met his gaze, snapping out of your thoughts as you composed yourself before the god.

“k’uk’ulkan.” you face him, a little surprised but you smiled at him still. namor watches your serene smile do not go up your eyes. he knows already, you could tell. he always could tell how you were feeling.

“ba'ax úuch?” he asks, enough for you to understand as he stands in-front of you, softening his gaze as you glanced back to the sea, sighing deeply.

“i’m leaving tomorrow.” you finally said, seeing as his expression still as those words he dreaded as well came from your mouth. it’s too soon, he had plans to—

“tomorrow?”

“in the morning.” you confirmed, your heart breaking seeing his stoic expression falter. “to be honest, i don’t want to go.”

“then don’t.” he says, every patience in his body wearing just for him to spew out anything for you to not leave. all his walls he build up for the first time for you already was gone, he accepted it that he wanted you by his side even if you don’t know fully of his true feelings. he had to at least say something before this could all end.

“i can’t.” you shakily said, an overwhelming feeling overcoming you. you didn’t want to leave this place, you didn’t want to leave him yet. “besides, whether i like it or not, i’ll be forced back home.”

you gripped the chiffon scarf, knuckles baring white as namor didn’t know what else to say. every signal in his mind told him many ways he could make you stay but he knows either way you’d be gone. and that this whole relationship you have with him is going to end even if it just had started.

“come with me.” he finally lets it out as he grabs your hand to his. “i wanted to show you something.”

“you have a gift for me?” you teased as his fingers interlocked with yours. he merely chuckles making your heart thump, alongside the feel of his calloused warm hand fits perfectly to yours. you know there’s this silent crave, a want between you two. you never acted this strange tension with him. you always thought he only tolerates you at how adamant you are seeing him, but now… you’re not sure.

“jach asab u jump'éel siibal.” he says, guiding you back to the forest, the familiar path to the underwater cave. “i want you to see a glimpse of my home.”

“k’uk’ulkan.” you scolded, brows knitting as you followed him, letting him guide you. “you had said that your nation is something to be kept away from the surface world. i am apart of that.”

“it is not necessarily talokan yet, ki'ichpanech.” he counters as you two step to see the familiar structure. he ushers you to stand by him in the pool of water but you stop,.

“i don’t want to risk this.” you argued, seeing as he contemplated at that. he was holding back something he’s been harboring, you sighed as you step back, hand letting go of his as he stands in the water. a feeling of deja vu erupted inside you. he looked absolutely the same the night you met him. just that his defensive posture were now soft and relaxed as he gently smiles at you.

“one last night, ki’ichpanech.” namor held his hand out again. “and we will forget all of this in the morning and continue on with our separate lives.”

“but that’s not all, is it?”

namor tenses, he doesn’t really know if a tinge of fear had finally come to him. you can see pass through him, every knit of his brow or clench on his jaw. and he can see you hesitate— you want this, he can tell. every grip of your mesh scarf, the furrow of your brows, the sadness and eagerness in your eyes. you awaited for an answer as he nods.

“come with me.” he steps closer, water splashing, moonlight dawning over you two. “you had said you hated to go back to your home then stay. stay with me.”

he gently brought your hand to his chest as he stared into your eyes. like a trance he is how serene you are underneath the moonlight. your face softening with realization that he’s asking you to live with him. to stay by him forever. you could feel the thump of his heart underneath his skin, he intimately pressed his forehead against yours, never leaving your sight. you didn’t know what to say but just let him continue.

“this does not happen so often. and i fear it will never stop. ka ma' in k'áat ka u detenga.” he whispers, lips brushing against yours, he is holding himself back not to rapture you here and now. sparks flew when you felt it, his other hand situated on your hip. a raw sensation you had now felt for him.

“what about my own life here?”

“i am not so cruel to not give you a choice, ki’ichpanech. but yes, i cannot risk you going back home for my nation if you were to choose to come with me.” you nodded at his words, understanding him. and now you gambled with the possibilities as namor waited patiently for your answer. your mind gambled with the possibilities, you’d leave everything behind.

“and if i chose to leave now?”

“then we will part ways and forget all of this.” he offers a small smile, concealing the pang in his chest.

“why me?” you quietly asked, the words he offered sinking in your mind.

“is it not obvious?” his nose brushed against the tip of yours, heat in his tone. “in ts'íiboltikech.”

a shuddery breath exhales through your lips. his warmth and his closeness should have been the answers but you could not imagine for a god— someone who’s deemed as a god to be wanting you. namor’s patience was wearing thin, if you chose to leave, he’ll gladly accept that, but he somehow hopes for the other one. your eyes shined, his heart thumped as your lips opened—

“in ts'íiboltikech.” you repeated his words as his irises darken, a grin forming as he gladly pulled you closer to him, the cool water splashing around the two of you. the cicadas quieting down, two hearts beating as one.

“ma'alob.” he whispers darkly, sending a shiver down your spine. those words of confirmation had him surging to capture your lips to his. he waited long enough, every night, every morning he thought of you. you were a plague in his mind, corrupting him to think of the most sinful things and the ones he yearned in his own thoughts.

and your lips were sweet, sweeter than the fruits he ever tasted in his life, and he wonders in the back of his mind if your cunt would taste sweeter. making his cock twitch at the thought.

you let out a tiny gasp, wrapping your arms around his neck, the chiffon scarf dropping to the ground. the built up tension between the two of you finally at it’s peak, sizzling down as he moved his lips slowly on yours. slow and passionate, wanting to savor it. your cheeks bloomed with heat when you felt the outline of his prick press against your stomach, hard and hot. catching you by surprised at how particularly needy he felt. but you were as well, absently rubbing your thighs against each other.

he pulls away, breathless making let out a tiny whine. “ko'ox.” he smirks, guiding you deeper in the water, your sundress getting wet but you didn’t care about that. only focused on the man who gently puts something on your face. you look at him questionably, he was holding up a mask of something.

“the dive is deep.” he explains, as he locks the mask in, ushering you gently with adoration in his eyes as you inhaled deeply, following his command.

“breathe, in yakunaj.”

•••

“amazing.” you uttered, staring up to the ceiling of the cave. glowworms were hanging by the stalactites. it emitted this soft blue hue while the sound of the waters of the cave joined in the beautiful scenery. your heart bloomed, you could almost forget about your own home by now. but a tinge of hesitance caused you to overthink this. was it right to leave everything behind? you questioned yourself, standing by the edge, close to the water.

how quick you are to throw everything away.

you bit your bottom lip, nervous you are, wondering if anyone back at the place you called home would question where you are in the following days— months even. you sighed to yourself, pushing it all away in the very back of your mind. you’d worry about that in a more appropriate time. but now here you are, feeling flushed remembering his lips, all thoughts away but just him.

“jats'uts.” his voice echoed, you jumped a bit in surprise as you turned to face him. the beads on your dress rattled, your cheeks glowed as namor went beside you. his eyes draped along your body, the traditional dress he provided for you after your sundress had been absolutely damped was an exquisite sight before him.

“beautiful.” he translated, dark eyes meeting yours. he steps closer, seeing your small shy smile. “the dress suits you so.” he grins.

“thank you for this.” you gestured to the beautiful dress, letting yourself be drawn in his beady orbs as you neared him, letting his hand slip to yours again.

“has this place always been your sanctuary?” you quietly asked as you two walked towards the hut he showed you a while ago that was filled with his murals. you were amazed to see how he had depicted his and his people lives on the wall by the stroke of his brush. the story of how the first talokanil came to be and so fort.

“yes. a place where i can be in solitude.” he nods and leads you inside, never leaving your side.

“and from here, talokan is just down below?” you looked around the room, stopping to admire the big mural on the wall.

“deep below, ki'ichpanech.” he responds, standing beside you, holding something in his hand. your eyes caught the glimpse of a beautiful ornament.

“this is beautiful.” you blurt out, looking to him for approval to touch it as he merely smiled.

“it was my mother’s.” he explains as you touched the beads gently, admiring how pretty it is.

“you said it was made for her before she turned talokanil?” namor nodded, liking the way you remembered his stories.

“as my first gift, i want you to have this.” he grasps your wrists making your heart burst. “a token for my affection.”

“you’ve given me enough. i feel like i should give you something in return.” you pouted as he ties the bracelet on your wrist, ignoring your furrowed look as he kisses you softly before you could protest more. you hummed between his lips, shutting up quickly as you eagerly reciprocated.

“it is not enough.” he says, squeezing the side of your waist. “you’ve already given something in return, in yakunaj. your presence here in my home is enough.”

“but—“

his lips descended down to kiss your jaw, peppering down to your neck. inhaling your scent as he nips at your neck. pressing you harder against him, bulge brushing again on your stomach as you craned your neck to feel him sigh blissfully before he sucked and nipped, intent to make you feel mushy in his arms.

“k’uk’ulkan.” you whined as he chuckles.

“your body reacts so eagerly.” he whispers. “have you been waiting for me to touch you like this, ki’ichpanech?” you couldn’t respond but nod lightly, the warmth of his overwhelming. your lips are sealed from embarrassment how right he is. the scruff of his beard tickles you so as he bites a bit harder making you grip his shawl. the only item of clothing you noticed he wore after countless times you had seen him in those green shorts.

“t'aan.” he commands, hands descending down to grasp your ass harshly. you squealed as he hoists you up, legs automatically wrapping around his waist. hands on his broad shoulders as he guides both of you to the bed in his hut. your back hitting the bed, him towering over you. you could see the feral look in his eyes as you can’t help but obey him.

“je’el.” you whimpered as he slants his mouth to yours again, eating you up. he can’t help but smile at how his language rolls off your lips, his mayan lessons paying off to you. your soft hands cupped his cheek, fueling the desire. his hand descends down to caress your thigh, rubbing gently before your dress pools to your stomach, lower half exposed to the cold air. namor could feel the heat he yearned as his fingertips gently brushed against your exposed cunt. you bare underneath the dress he provided, his aching cock wishing to come out.

“táan jach mojado, wáaj tuláakal ti' teen?” namor pressed his fingertip gently on your aching nub. you gasped, back arching, eyes slightly widening how the two of you are now doing this—

“please.” you begged as he only applied pressure, no rubbing or whatsoever, he seemed so smug as he had you this desperate. he shifts from his place, shrugging off his royal shawl, dropping it to the floor as he removes anything that might get into his way as he opens your legs, looking up for your consent as your eyes meet his.

“please.” you affirm again as he gingerly kisses the top of your knee.

he doesn’t know what fucking ambrosia fills his scent but the sight of your bare glistening cunt makes his whole body react accordingly. he descends down, kissing your knee before resting comfortably to kiss your inner thigh, the scent of your arousal tingling him.

“perfect.” he groans, can’t help but kiss your aching clit. licking his lips as your hands laced through his dark locks as he laps away like a starved man. you moan out, his tongue working wonders. you could not believe how eager he is to eat your cunt up like it’s his last meal. every flick, lick, kiss and suck, all over again and again making your thighs clamp hard around his head.

you fear you might suffocate him with your own cunt but you remembered the man literally breathes in water. namor could do this all day, he thinks, growling at how fucking tart your nectar is— how fucking dripping it is for him— only him.

namor melts between your thighs, in dazed and drunk. the sound of your muffled moans as the plush heat of your thighs at either sides of his face had him groaning. he sucks harsher, feeling your hips stutter as he puts his arm on top of your stomach to hold you in place. never stopping his feast, the more he licked and lapped, the more you begged with his name. his other hand could not help but slide down to his, gripping his clothed bulge, a shiver ran down his spine at the pressure that he could not take anymore.

“k’uk’ulkan…” you repeated, feeling your stomach coil in the pressure of his sinful mouth and tongue. he hums, pulling back, sitting up as his lips glistened with your arousal, fueling your desire as you whined. he palms himself, still staring down at you as you stared at the prize just under his hand. you carefully sat up, all thoughts seemingly trashed in your fucked-out mind. namor’s chest rose as he breathes in how angelic you are crawling towards him, your face dazed out and mouth glistening with your own saliva, hungry.

“what do you want, my love?” he asks as he grins making you momentarily look up to meet his eyes. you didn’t say anything as you pressed your lips to his bare stomach, making him shudder as his abs flexed the moment your soft lips touched his heated skin, the grip on his clothed cock tightened as you trailed down to meet his happy trail.

vixen. he surpasses the urge to call you that out loud, not when your hand is now shoving his hand away from his cock. he lets you do whatever you want with him, anticipation in his blood as your fingers curled in the hem of his shorts. ready for you to pull it down but you stopped for a moment as you stared up to him again, a plead in your gaze.

“can i?” you ask quietly.

something inside him breaks hearing your soft voice ask for his permission. he lets out a breath, hand coming up to caress your cheek as you nuzzled against his palm, waiting for his answer.

“je’el.” he nods, his words coming out in a slight tremble. he could feel himself succumb to the thought of you doing anything with him— everything in fact. you grin suddenly, breaking the eye contact as you pulled his shorts down completely, him helping you get it off as you tossed it to the ground.

namor groaned as his cock bounced up slightly, the cool air making him bite his lower lip as you gawked at it. you were speechless, taken aback, not expecting that it would be— that girthy in size. you gulped, remembering the countless times you would glance at his bulge whenever you two were either swimming in the sea or walking along the shore, it was something you couldn’t help but feel dirty for imagining what he truly looks like down their.

but now you’ve seen everything.

“you can take it, no?” he suddenly quips making you grumble in determination as you lulled yourself back from staring at his shaft. you wrapped your hand around his base making the said man shut up as he sighs out.

“i can.” you mumbled, totally not intimidated by his fucking length and girth overall. you pumped him slowly, right amount of pressure seeing the tip leak out a bit. wondering how you are making a said ‘god’ now weak on his knees, hearing little huffs come from his mouth but still looking so composed. you admired how reserved he looks as you dart your tongue out to lick the fat head.

“mierda—“ he grumbles, a hand gripping the back of your head as the other fumbled with your breast and whatever skin he can reach as he stays still watching you finally engulf him slowly. your mouth stretched accommodating his size as you hummed, liking the way he taste and maybe a tiny bit saltier— you were not complaining though.

“look at you.” he speaks with adoration, admiring the way you started to suck him off, letting him in deeper inside of your hot cavern inch by inch you can take. the way you are on your knees for him, glancing at him from time to time as you meet his hungry eyes. he resists the urge to fuck your mouth, savoring how determined you are to make him feel the same pleasure as he did on you. you were serious to making him feel good, bobbing your head up and down as your other hand gripped his base, pumping him where your mouth can’t reach. your eyes watered as the tip hit the back of your throat, making you gag a bit as you pulled him out, panting.

the string of saliva appeared as you licked your lips, kissing the tip again as you gently put him in your mouth again. namor hissed feeling the coil in his stomach almost snap. you continued on with your pace, liking the way you could hear his labored breaths and little groans, making you smile a bit as the salty taste of him had you addicted.

this is torture. namor thinks as he lets you suck him off for a bit before abruptly pulling himself out of your mouth, making you whine. he chuckles seeing your expression before he captured your lips again, tasting himself as he pushed you to lay back on the bed. you reciprocated with eagerness as you opened your legs for him to slant himself there, cock grazing your cunt making you let out a low moan in his mouth. namor swallows those pretty sounds of yours before pulling away as he pressed his forehead against yours. a knowing look in his eyes as you waited for him to speak first.

“can i?” he finally asks, grinding himself on your cunt. you whimpered, looking down to see how desperate he is before looking back to his eyes.

“please.” you muttered, cupping his cheeks as shuffles in his place. his hand reaching down to grasp himself, positioning his head to rub against your entrance as you cursed at the wet feeling.

“k’uk’ulkan…” you mewled, anticipating he’d ram himself inside of you this instant but he’s patient as ever as he rubs the fat bulb of his head on your clit, gathering enough slick before finally pushing in slowly. making your back arch at the intrusion as your hands fly down to grasp his broad shoulders.

“is it too much?” he suddenly asks, concerned, watching you carefully. you smiled at his concerns as you kissed the tip of his nose.

“it’s perfect.” you whispered, clenching around him to signal him to get on with it. namor growls as he does what you want, bottoming out in you as deep as he can go. he stills for the moment, you two immersed at the feeling of each other. a sort of fuzzy feeling of something special how connected you two are. gentle caresses and kisses of encouragement exchanged between the two of you as he finally gives an experimental thrust.

“perfecto.” he sighs, kissing you again as you grinned. namor grinds into you slowly at first, feeling the way your walls clench around him as he hits a spot. he leaves kisses on your face, marks on your neck, whispers of undying loving words how you make him feel so good. you merely moan out his name as he starts to pick up a good pace that has you desperate on him.

“jach jats'uts yáanal tin.” he pants, hand caressing you everywhere as he stares at your blissed out face. each hard snap of his hips making your body bounce at the intensity. the lewd wet slapping adding in as heat and sweat enveloped you two. you whimpered at how his cock was hitting that spot making your hips wiggle and back arch. it felt so sticky yet so good at how he’s so passionate about this.

absolutely perfect. your mind screams as you wrap your arms around his torso, grasping his back as he fucks you with vigor. your whines like a sirens song to his ears, he rests his lips on your forehead as he pounds into you. feeling himself on the verge as you clenched around him tightly as ever, a signal to him that you were also cumming. namor kisses every inch of your face before swallowing up your moans you were about to cum. your heart pounded in synch with his as he desperately fucked into you. you gasped loudly, gripping his skin, nails digging, body convulsing with pleasure as his thrusts became sloppier, pounding in through your orgasm.

“ki’ichpanech…” namor practically breaths out your name next, eyes shutting for a moment as he feels him release. one, two, three powerful thrusts sends him home as he almost rips the beddings apart above your head. blood rushes to your ears as the intensity stops. he slumps a bit, laying his weight on your body but not too much, fearing you’d be crushed. both your breaths only to be heard as it fills the silence of the room.

everything slows down the moment when his eyes flutter open to meet yours. the exact same eyes he had first met in the moonlight. your heart soars to see him soften as you kissed him gently, soft and pillowy it felt, something slow after that. your hand instinctively brushes the stray hair from his forehead, sweat beading there. he plants more kisses again on your face as you giggled, only gasping as he removes himself abruptly. there are so many things you wanted to say to him in those moment but all are left unsaid when he laces your hands together. a glint in his eyes, all you adore.

“stay with me, ki’ichpanech.” he says, as if you would leave him. you can’t help but nod quickly as ever like you did when he asked you to go with him here. you knew what you were in for and you were sure for it, knowing your heart won’t stop beating so loudly when he smiles now as you mutter a verbal confirmation out, concealing it. the glimpse of his mother’s bracelet on your wrist a wonderful glimpse of a future.

“i will.”

I FINISHED IT FINALLY AND HAPPY NEW YEAR EVERYONE !! THANK U FOR THE PATIENCE. im back to writing finally. <3

#namor x reader #namor #k’uk’ulkan #k’uk’ulkan x reader #namor x female reader #namor smut #tenoch huerta #bpwf spoilers #namor imagine #black panther: wakanda forever #fnhrlcllnwrites

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callsignangel · 1 year

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screen rant babe - jack champion x interviewer! reader

warnings: none! fluffy but not a ton word count: 1059 requested by @gcidrvsh <3 ↳ "hi!! could you write something for jack champion? like where they meet on the set of scream (cuz they’re friends with jenna ortega) OR whatever you really wanna write its up to you" a/n: hi friends!! sorry this look so long. this fic is the first part of what's going to be a series about jack champion. i gave the reader some background (and a surprise relative) in this fic just to add some substance. i misplaced my list of people to tag, i'm so sorry! i'll be sure to set up a proper tag list for future parts of this series. i hope you enjoy!! reblogs and feedback about my work is deeply appreciated. <3

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it had already been a long press day, having been interviewing the cast of avatar: the way of water for it's upcoming release. it was finally nearing the end of the day - you just had one more interview left with trinity bliss and jack champion. the interviews had been done in pairs, like sam and zoe, sigourney and jim, bailey and jamie, and now trinity and jack.

they had been sitting there when you walked in, patiently waiting as you arrived on time for their next interview. making sure your mic was on properly and working, you greeted them both with handshakes and quick small talk before you all seated yourself in those god awful uncomfortable directors chairs. "okay, it's so great to see you guys!" you began, a big big smile on your face. "my name is y/n and i'm here in partner with screenrant interviewing some of the cast from avatar: the way of water which is in theatres worldwide on december 16th," you finished your introduction, allowing them to begin theirs. "hi, my name is trinity jo-li bliss and i play tuktirey," she smiled directly into the camera and waved."and i'm jack champion and i play spider," he waved quickly and beamed for the camera before quickly returning his attention to you. "awesome, thank you for setting aside the time to meet with me today," you began again, “i’ll just get right into it here, did you learn anything from this movie? what was it?” you kept your formalities on for the camera, but your words were silent in his ears as he tuned out your voice and focused solely on you. your mannerisms, the way you read your questions directly out of the notepad you brought so you didn’t forget them and how eloquent you were when speaking and being spoken to. he was so enchanted by you that he didn't realize it was his turn to answer your question. “jack,” trinity whispered, nudging him softly to tell him it was his turn to answer you. “sorry, what was the question again?” he snapped back to reality and a nervous, breathy laugh escaped him. trinity looked at you and you returned her puzzled face before breaking out into a fit of giggles. “did you learn anything from this movie?” you repeated. “oh yeah, totally. the importance of family is a repeating theme in this movie and because i’m so close to my family, i’ve learned to protect them and make sure to keep them close because nowadays you never know what could happen,” he recovered quickly, and you smiled at him. he was cute, chivalrous and quick on his feet. definitely your type.

the interview continued for another 20 minutes, asking questions regarding working with james cameron, what it was like working with motion capture, how they prepared for their roles and other smaller questions regarding the other cast mates. trinity is a natural born story teller, so she would take charge regarding funny cast moments on set or even in other interviews. jack still kept his attention on you, but this time making sure to listen incase you had another question for him. he didn’t want to embarrass himself in front of you anymore than he had. when the interview ended, you asked them both if you could take a quick picture of them for the article and for screenrant’s socials, both of whom happily obliged.

as you were getting your mic removed by the camera crew, you were surprised to see jack lingering by. “oh hey, thanks for letting me interview you today!” you spoke up, noticing his newfound nervous nature and trying to ease the awkwardness. he smiled, “i think you were the most fun interview we’ve had this entire press tour,” he admitted sheepishly. you giggled, “well, i’m glad. some people take interviews way too seriously and i think it takes away all of the fun and excitement about being in a big blockbuster movie like this.” you finished, double checking that you had your bag and your waterbottle with you before heading out. but before you could leave, jack stopped you again. “hey, do you live in LA or are you just here for work?” “oh, i’m actually just here for work! i’m originally from new york. i’m leaving in a couple days for the premiere in london actually,” you watched as his face lit up. “are you going to be at the premiere for work too?” he questioned, and you laughed. “not exactly. sigourney’s actually my aunt, and she invited me to come with her!” you declared, “i don’t think she was expecting me to be here for an interview today honestly.” giggling, you watched jack’s mind connect the dots. “oh my god haha that’s so cool, how come i never saw you on set?” he inquired. “never had enough time during school and her filming schedule. i would see her on holidays, or sometimes she would come and visit me while i was working in quebec.” you conversed a little more, talking about how you started working for screenrant, and if you had any plans to become an actor yourself. you hadn’t realized how easy he was to talk to, or how attractive he was now that it was just the two of you speaking in such close proximity. “do you have a date for the premiere?” he blurted, taking you both by surprise. “i mean, besides being there with your family and sigourney, of course.” you shook your head. “i guess i’ve been so busy with work i haven’t been looking for a date,” you responded, watching his shoulders relax as he heard you didn’t have anyone to go with. “i mean, neither do i besides my family. we could go together?” poor man was so nervous. he was scratching his neck as he awaited your response, and you grabbed it to help calm his nerves. “i’ll happily go with you, jack.” you gave his hand a tight squeeze, as if trying to tell him that this wasn’t a dream. “okay, great. that’s awesome,” he sounded relieved. you both giggled quietly, hands still conjoined. “i have a couple of days off before i leave LA, would you want to go out sometime before then?” you asked. “how does disneyland sound?” he grinned. “sounds perfect.”

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malarign · 10 months

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studio nights

(when you help him write lyrics for his new single)

contains: idolbf!Jake x fem!reader | genre: a little bit of angst and a little bit of fluff | tw! crying | wc: 0,6k

reblogs, likes and comments are highly appreciated!!!

author’s note: guess who is back 😼 honestly as a musician, it is probably the most disappointing part - not being able to come up with any good melody or just being unsatisfied with your work, but i guess all creators can agree on that :’)

Jake buried his face in the palms of his hands as yet another phrase slipped his mind. He never thought writing lyrics would be so difficult yet here he is hopeless since all the good words seemed to be nonoperative. Not only lyrics were his problem, but all the melodies also didn’t sound as good as he wanted. He thought all those years of musical education and violin playing would be helpful but somehow made it even worse, setting expectations so high, it was almost impossible to reach.

Suddenly the sound of a new message notification resounded in the quiet studio. He immediately reached for it thinking it could be you. Thankfully it was.

y/nie 💞: hi my love! are you done or should I come over?

He thought for a while and bit his lip. The last thing he wanted is you to see him in that state. His hair was messy, he didn’t shave for a while, and his eyes bloodshot red from crying and being in front of a computer for a whole day. The only moment he left the studio was to go to the toilet and when Jungwon asked him if he had maybe seen their choreographer.

He finally decided to just apologize for being at work until late hour once again.

His phone lit up again showing another message from you.

y/nie 💞: well too bad cuz i’m already at hybe :)

The message made him freeze. He really didn’t want you to see him like that, having a feeling that you were going to scold him for not taking proper care of himself. He quickly grabbed his phone to take a quick shower before you came only to see you as soon as he opened ten door. He noticed the bag of his favorite snacks and a bright smile on your face, which slowly faded away as you saw how in bad shape your boyfriend was. He thought about how disappointed you were, not knowing the only person you were mad at was yourself, feeling guilty for letting that happen.

“My love…” you finally spoke and caressed his cheek lovingly. This faint touch made his lip quiver as tears started to flood his eyes.

You closed the door behind you for some privacy and engulfed him in a tight hug, that he needed so much.

“I feel like a failure. I can’t even come up with the easiest lyrics,” he cried trying to calm down at the same time.

“Jake, look at me,” you spoke and cupped his cheeks. “It’s okay to have a block, I know how difficult it is to write good lyrics and that’s why I’m always so proud of you and how far you’ve come. You never fail to impress me and many others.”

He nodded at your words which spoke to him perfectly and resolved his doubts.

“Thank you,” he simply said and smiled at you.

“Can I maybe help you? Can I see what you have already?”

A little skeptical about your idea he showed you his notes full of scribbles and crossed-off words. You took your time in reading his work and soon gave your feedback, which to your surprise seemed to untie some knots in his mind. You watched as he slowly nods and writes it down hastily, regaining his confidence thanks to both your comment and good remarks.

You spend long hours in that one small studio, thinking of good and catchy phrases and tunes in the hope that maybe both of your names are going to be listed in the final credits of the album.

thank you for reading! back to the masterlist

permanent taglist: (send an ask to be added) @nicholasluvbot, @en-chantedtomeetyou, @kpopstanmeg, @skzenhalove, @nfrgirl

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yandere-kokeshi · 4 months

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Platonic yandere mW2 with a fighter teen reader? If it's ok 🥲

— Yandere Platonic TF-141 with boxer reader

Warnings: yandere behavior, talks about boxing and fighting, and teenager shenanigans.

A/N: since you didn’t specify, I did this poly and boxer reader cuz why not! Hope you enjoy <3!

It’s one way to scare the living shit out of them.

While they’re happy you found something you are confident and happy with, it also terrifies them of you getting severely hurt; especially if your opponent is larger. No matter how much you reassure them saying you’ve done this since you were a tween, or being trained professionally, they’re immediately babying you and trying to remove you from it.

Gentle manipulation is what they’ll do — telling you the percentage of injuries, making you afraid of it, or how you’ll end up hurting yourself.

But as soon as they see you enjoy it, running out of the house despite their strict rules, it tells them you aren’t stopping anytime soon. Finally, they set their foot down and shrug their shoulders; essentially supporting your decision. Just as long as you don’t try to join prizefighting, they’ll allow it; making you promise to take care of yourself, letting them join your rounds at some point, and taking needed breaks.

Within a few weeks, they migrate into your schedule and like to watch you train and even participate. If you don’t have the equipment, it’s where all their money goes — getting supporting bandages, gloves, punching bags, and possibly a ring.

Each of them takes turns on training you, which can be fun or a disaster.

Simon isn’t nice nor easy going against; he tries to go easy, but with his size and stance, he knows how to read your next moves. He lets you get the first jab, or block, but he wants to help you train and be ready whenever, so he’s ruthless.

Price is the same — but gentler, praising you or telling you something wrong; easily smirking with a, “Atta’ kid!” when you achieve the goals.

Johnny and Gaz are agile, have much energy and are quite relentless with their dodging. It’s a good fight to go against em, especially since both of them share their liking of joking within the trail.

If they can’t personally train you, they find someone trustable to train you. And by chance, they come when you’re still training, they all love to sit down and watch you. Johnny and Gaz love hyping you up, both of them throwing bets that you’ll win each time, and sighing out when you do, because the other one gets to help you.

Price and Simon watch you closely, cringing when you get hit, but smiling when you get up. They also love supporting you silently with cold water, and helping you with re-bandaging your hand-wrappings.

—

Masterlist || Reblogs, comments, and likes are very much appreciated!! Stay well!!

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kingofbodyrolls · 8 months

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Namjoon fic recs 2023

Happy Joonie day! 💜🥳

In honor of Namjoon’s birthday, I want to share my ultimate favorite Namjoon fanfictions, that I’ve read this year 💜I haven’t read that much of Namjoon, just recently gotten into it, so the list might be small, but it contains some of the best stuff out there 💎 I want to thank each and every writer on this list for creating such wonderful stories and art - you are truly amazing ✨ All the fics on this list hold a dear place in my heart 🥹

❗Most of these fics are smutty as hell, so minors dni.❗

If you read anything on this list and you like it, please leave a comment to the writer or reblog the original fic’s post 💜And if you want more fic recs you can follow me to stay updated 🙂 A reblog on this post also helps, as it gets more exposure and seen by others, which in the end gives more love and exposure to the amazing writers on this list 🥰

BTS fic rec index → May | Jun | Jul | Aug | Sep (jjk)(💜) | Oct (pjm) | Nov (*) | Dec (ksj)(kth) |

Emoji meaning → angst = 🌩️, smut = 🥵, fluff = 🥰, comedy = 😂.

⭐The Interpretation of Dreams by @ppersonna // knj x f.reader // phd mentor!namjoon, university!au // 🥵🥰

📝 He’s the man of your dreams, the an you’ve spent over 6 years pining over. and he’s also your Ph.D. mentor and in charge of your very future.

🗨️ Looking for a smutty, slutty, funny and comforting fic? Well, look no further! 🌟 This really delivered 👏🏾 really, really good. The sexual tension between reader and Namjoon 💯 and then best friend Jimin, being the best chaotic slutty wingman EVER 🥵

⭐Deep End by @here2bbtstrash // knj x f.reader // established relationship, period!smut // 🥵🥰

📝 Your boyfriend suggests a new way to relieve your period cramps.

🗨️ Awww, this was so cute and sweet 🥺💖💯

⭐Baby Fever by @95rkives // knj x f.reader // established relationship // 🥰🥰🥰

📝 What was supposedly a peaceful morning stroll in the park, an unexpected encounter triggers namjoon’s intense desire for a baby, turning him into an adorable, baby fever-filled mess.

🗨️ Gosh this was cute - and wonderfully fluffy 😍

⭐All Night by @luaspersona // knj x f.reader // college!au, brother’s best friend!au, s2l // 🥵

📝 When your brother bails on you, you have to find another way to entertain yourself for the night and Kim Namjoon just so happens to be a great company.

🗨️ This was the most perfect, pure masterpiece of fucking gold writing 🤌🏾🥵 it is insanely filthy, so deliciously smutty!! Like I think my soul has left my body 🥵 the writing, story and the characters were brilliant ✨ this is hands down one of my new favorites and I WILL read this again soon, I promise you! Don’t sleep on this sweet bad boy Namjoon, okay 🥵 such an easy recommendation for me to make - do yourself a favor and read it if you haven’t (and if you have, then read it again!) ♥️💯

⭐Love Language by @rmnamjoons // knj x f.reader // soulmate!au // 🥵🥰

📝 Exactly one year before one meets their soulmate, their love’s first words spoken to them appear as a tattoo on their wrist. When Namjoon’s tattoo appears, however, it’s not of words, but of the most beautiful set of eyes he’s ever seen.

🗨️ I know that most of this was just pure smut, but damn it was cute 😭🥺💖

⭐Stretch You Out by @chateautae // knj x jjk x f.reader // college!au, s2f2l, gym employee!namjoon, gym employee!jungkook // 🥵🥰

📝 You have a plan for your crappy, diabolical ex who’s set on ruining your life; making him jealous by snagging a raunchy photo with two hot employees at the gym. what you didn’t have a plan for? befriending the mischievous pair to aid in your revenge and ending up underneath not just one, but both of them.

🗨️ Holy fucking shit 🥵 🫣 this was so exceptionally good! So deliciously filthy, it really delivered on every freaking aspect 💯 incredible 👏🏾 perfection 👏🏾 💎

⭐The Making of: Love by @inkjam-moon // kmj x f.reader // actor!au, s2l (not really strangers, ‘cuz they know of each other) // 🥰🥵😂

📝 When the movie you’re in requires to to film a risque scene with a world renowned sex symbol, your virginity is suddenly all you can focus on.

🗨️ I think this is funny, so I’ll tag it with comedy! Jimin is in it (he is readers manager) and he is just doing his best job of being a supporting character 👏 It’s good!

⭐All Aboard! (the passion express) by @ve1vetyoongi // knj x f.reader // office worker!namjoon // 🥵

📝 There were not many things that got your blood boiling in the same way that two simple words could. Kim Namjoon. The name of your irritating and (unfortunately enough, as the universe would have it) incredibly handsome co-worker. Which is exactly why you never expected to find your self on your knees for him on the train home.

🗨️ Holy fuck, fuck, fuck this was so incredibly filthy (in the best way possible) 🥵 the tension between reader and Namjoon was perfect, the build up was so satisfying 🌟 what’s not to like ✨😍

⭐The Wedding Arrangement by @sugaurora // knj x f.reader // ‘enemies’ to friends to lovers, wedding!au // 🥵🥰🌩️

📝 Unfortunately, he’s just gotten engaged to someone who isn’t you. Even more unfortunately, he expects you to help plan the wedding alongside Kim Namjoon, his other best friend and, based on your first meeting, just another judgmental jerk. Putting aside your distaste for the sake of your friend’s happiness, you both set about giving Seokjin the wedding of his dreams. Following a rough and satisfying affair at the caterer’s, you strike an unusual deal: you and Namjoon will be enemies with benefits until the wedding is over. And after six months of wedding planning, you both just might learn that weddings aren’t usually the end, but a brand new beginning.

🗨️ This was so amazing 🥹 the characters had so much depth and ugh! It was just so, so good. It was a pleasure reading their love unfolding 🥰 Aish, I’m soft! It’s filled with plenty of soft, slight heartbreaking angst at times, but oh so fluffy and smutty too! It was perfect 👌🏾 💯 please don’t sleep on this one, okay? 🥹

⭐Inside my Mind by @jimlingss // knj x f.reader // high school!au // 🥰🥵😂

📝 You’re safe in the confines of your mind. Free to think whatever, free to fantasize to your heart’s content. And your imagination tends to quite a wild turn when you’re dying from sheer boredom. But when some GUY IN YOUR CLASS CAN FUCKING READ MINDS - YOU’RE NOT SAFE ANYMORE! WHAT THE FUCKSKDKASDFGHJKL—

Borahae and happy birthday Joonie 💜 🥳 🎂

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saiidahyunie · 5 months

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these moments are everything with you

kim dahyun x reader

synopsis: you thought you’d be better off alone, until you met her.

warnings: very very very small angst ; mostly fluff

wc: 4.2k

a/n: @gayforminatozaki @miinatozakiii i was perplexed with the lack of dahyun drabbles in your reblogs so don't mind me i'm just here to fulfill my quota in the dahyun works department (and also becuase she's my ult bias so i just had to write something for her cuz it would be a crime if i didn't)

had this one sitting the google drive for a couple days now so i thought now would be a good time to post this before i focus on finals for the next week and a half. :/

꒰ᐢ. .ᐢ꒱🎧｡°✩⭑: moments by michah edwards (this pushed the fic inspo a lot this song is so cute >.<)

—

there was only one word to describe you: average.

anyone that was friends with you or in your family knew that you weren’t the most outgoing person to be around. you didn’t talk much only when it mattered in the conversation and your friends still accepted you for being that way. taking pride in being introverted while also willing to do whatever they asked was a strength in itself.

once everyone went their separate ways for college, your small band of five friends were worried about how you’d handle the dorm experience.

“how much do you wanna bet y/n will be friends with the instructors before any of the students?”

“y/n’s a bookworm already as it is so i wouldn’t be surprised that the library or dorm will be the go-to spot.”

you knew that jihyo and jeongyeon meant well and shrugged their comments off when they helped you move into your dorm the first year. in fact, you used the criticism as motivation as you were the top of your class, eventually rubbing it in their face when jeongyeon had to retake a chem class over the summer during your guys’ second year. as for bambam, junho, and ryujin, the other three friends in the group, they couldn't help but laugh at jeong’s blunder as you sat across from her with a sly smirk on your face.

fast forward a year later and it’s finals week before the summer break. everyone is in a rush, the library was packed, cafes were having a field day, and you couldn’t wait to hear the infamous “midnight screams.” all throughout the week in your dorm. your main math building had several classrooms but you managed to find an open one that wasn’t occupied. you opened the door and scanned the dark room for anything out of the ordinary; sighing in relief, you stepped in the empty classroom and got to work.

you scrounged up three desks together to make a mock table for your stuff as you got to work on the giant blackboard behind you. about forty-five minutes into your study session, you scribbled an equation on the board with a sturdy piece of chalk. you turn your head to the right side as you see the door open and see a girl with wavy raven colored hair with glasses, making eye contact with you stopping in her tracks.

“oh shoot, i thought this room was empty.” she started saying, “this was my usual place to study since the library gets overpacked.” you stood there as she briefly apologized and started to turn around. it only took a split second, but you made a choice that would change everything, not even your friends back home would believe this if you said it the first time. you set the chalk down on the board and wiped your hands off with the remnants of it, coughing slightly because of the dust from your hands.

“you don’t have to leave! i don’t mind if you study here too.” you called out to her, scratching the back of your head and sharply inhaling through your teeth, hoping that she’d take up on your offer.

the girl stopped her movements when your voice reached her and turned back to you, pondering on your offer. she had a judgment call to make: either look for another room to study in or study with you, making a new friend in the process. thirty seconds had passed and with a blank expression on her face, she walked into the class, setting all of her study materials next to yours on the desk. once she got herself situated, she walked up to you, sticking her hand out.

“i’m kim dahyun.” the girl said smiling, finally putting her name to the face.

“it’s nice to meet you dahyun, i’m y/n.” you said, returning the same smile.

usually you weren’t the kind of person to be flustered when meeting a girl for the first time, but there was something about dahyun that made your head spin and your heart go up an’ over. you shook her hand and held onto hers for a little longer than you should’ve before letting go.

in a moment’s hesitation, you then picked the small piece of chalk up again, returning to the equation that you started earlier while also saving yourself from the embarrassment you gave yourself. finishing up the equation you step back to the desk island behind you, peering over to see the answer key in the textbook making an audible “tsk” sound with your lips, erasing the portion of your answer you messed up on.

“shit, it wasn’t this.” you muttered to yourself as dahyun stepped up next to you. “are you in physics 460 too?” she asked, picking up another piece of chalk, scribbling the same equation in the blank blackboard next to you. you stood there in a slight awe as she elegantly finished up the problem, boxing up her answer under the work she just did.

stepping back to admire her seamless work, you glanced at the board and the textbook to double check. your eyes shot slightly open than usual only to realize that her answer was correct.

“whoa, h-how did you know exactly?” you stuttered. really? at a time like this? this didn’t happen before, so what the hell is going on with you?

dahyun shrugged her shoulders at you, smiling. “i took the class last semester. i assume it’s professor hyejin since she’s a really good teacher and all the students try to get in her class.” she said, “not an easy class, but she knows the material inside and out.”

you just simply nodded at her explanation and leaned against the desk island, crossing your arms together impressed at her sharp intelligence. “i tried enrolling for her class at the beginning of the semester, but i got professor heechul instead. he’s an ass. doesn’t even grade things properly and acts like a kid when things don't go his way.” you huffed out with a sigh only to be thrown off with dahyun’s sudden burst of laughter. as she was laughing, you look down and smiled at yourself noticing her really cute laugh.

“i’m actually a TA for professor heechul right now, so i can see where you’re coming from.” dahyun shook her head in agreement and smiled, walking to her bag to get her own textbook and started reviewing on her own classes. the room filled up with silence that wasn’t surprisingly awkward silence, but instead, it was something else.

to be fair to yourself, your friends were right about you with everything that they predicted. you were well acquainted with the professors and you basically lived in the library from time to time. now that you’ve met dahyun, the little fire of hope in proving them wrong by being her friend lit a little more brightly.

the blackboard was overrun with problems and equations left and right. you took a chair to sit down in small five minute breaks as you turned your head to see the clock at the back of the classroom, realizing that it’s been about two and a half hours. any more time spent here would have burnt your brain out with the workload you just did. over to your right side, dahyun continued to work. three textbooks were spread out on the desk island, her laptop was out, and she was triple checking her work on the blackboard as well. you were intrigued with the amount of energy she still had, seeing she was working double time compared to you.

dahyun looked over to you, and you didn’t realize that you’d been staring for way longer than you should’ve. in a quick movement, your head shot straight down and cracked your neck before grabbing a textbook right after, not even catching the fact that it had been upside down. dahyun observed your last action and softly giggled at your surprisingly funny antic.

four days had passed since then, you and dahyun were in the same room at the same time again. you pondered on how weird it was for her schedule to be in line with yours. were you gonna ask her about it? no. are you complaining? also no. in that short amount of time, you and her got to know each other better, accustomed to seeing her more and more often.

“hey dahyun?” you asked with a sense of boldness today. dahyun turned around from the right triangle she drew on the board and looked at you with a smile. she always looked towards you with a sense of admiration, you didn’t think anything of it but it felt nice to have her look that way since it felt good. it was a nice change of pace to have a study partner, a really smart one too.

“i was wondering if you’d want to grab a drink with me after finals? not a drink as in alcohol, but coffee?” you looked at her, trying to resist the sudden heat that was plastered over your face. you had some sort of idea why dahyun made you feel this way as if your body was going through an acupuncture treatment, but you could handle it.

a smile stretched across dahyun’s face as she lightly bounced on the balls of her feet, heels touching the ground before lifting off again, excited at your offer.

“i’d love to!”

you simply nodded and smiled back at her while in your heart was doing backflips. “so it’s on me then?” you jokingly asked as she nodded at you again before you two went back to studying. the thought of this was just going to be a one time thing would be diminished at the revelation that you can tell your friends back home that you studied with someone for the week.

—

finals week of your junior year came and went; not that anyone cared or saw coming, that “one time thing” coffee run turned into a second run, then a third, and then a fourth being an actual date. soon after that first date rolled a couple more dates and the rest didn’t need any further explanation. flash forward ahead one year following a graduation ceremony later, you and dahyun would be moving in together at your new studio apartment. the discussion about it went smoothly before graduation since you had managed to convince dahyun that you had more space compared to her shared apartment with her friends. a big plus was that your landlord was more fond of dahyun than the previous one that she was with at the time.

moving in wasn’t a simple task to tackle, the transition for dahyun was easier since you were the one doing all the heavy lifting for her. the boxes she had was a trove of items curated throughout her entire lifetime in addition to the pictures she took of various moments. the two small boxes you were carrying this time were just towers of picture frames with photos with a story to tell.

one notable thing that you learned about dahyun early on in your relationship was how she loved taking pictures. whether said pictures would be on her phone, your 90s film camera, her polaroid, and just recently an old digicam that you found when you visited your parents back in spring break. dahyun would have at least one camera on hand whenever you two went out, taking pictures of friends, animals, cute architecture, or anything that she found aesthetically pleasing. some of those pictures were of you as well.

rummaging through one of the boxes she brought over, a picture catches your eye. it was the third date which was a picnic and you were wondering what the clicking sound was at the time. dahyun had brought a polaroid camera and refused to show you the picture, claiming that it was for something later, even though she took twelve more later during the date. the memory flashed through your head as you held the picture in your hand smiling. dahyun scooched over to you placing her head on your arm while you picked up another picture that was you with headphones in and holding a vinyl of one of elton john’s songs. despite the fact how corny it was, you were glad that she kept that one.

click!

“baby…” you groaned, turning around to see dahyun holding a camera behind you. tilting your head at dahyun as she looked at you with innocent eyes, slowly strolling over to you.

“what? i can’t take pictures of my lover who looks insanely attractive hanging pictures up?” dahyun asked as she tiptoed to give you peck on the lips, lightly blushing at her sign of affection.

“sure, you find my sexually appealing hanging a picture on the wall wearing sweatpants and a cream shirt with a soy sauce stain on it.” you said shaking your head, turning your focus to the picture that was slanted on the wall. bad pictures aside, you took pride in the ones that you took of dahyun. one being an amusement park date with her getting off one of the rides and the other one of her at the aquarium for your six months. now, both of these are on the wall in the living room.

dahyun tiptoed a bit to adjust the picture on the wall before backing up, proud of her achievement. “ah, perfect.”

“taking pride in your curation?”

“you’re annoying.” she replied back, rolling her eyes and smacked your arm, not even registering the teasing remark. “i was referring to the picture frame hanging on the wall now.”

you smiled and kissed her temple, slotting your right arm on her waist. “i know. i was just messing with you. the pictures are always nice when you take them.” you looked at her noticing the slight color of pink on her cheeks. dahyun turned towards you, trying to cover her face as you grabbed the polaroid camera from her hands to take a quick pic, capturing the adorable look on her face.

“hey! you’re so meannn. i don’t look good right now!” dahyun whined as she jumped up to grab the polaroid that was printed out, your hand straight up in the air, laughing at her desperate attempt . after she calmed down, you handed the camera back to her in your left hand, your right hand still clasping the photo.

“if you’re gonna take a picture of me hanging pictures, i should be able to take a picture of you blushing a bit. it’s a fair trade no?” you claimed as you scrunch your nose at her, eyeing the picture that is now fully developed. you gasped with your mouth agape, enjoying dahyun’s distressed expression.

“what? do i look ugly?” she asks.

you shook your head in response and turned the picture around, keeping the distance so she couldn’t grab it. “you look adorable in this, i could kiss you.”

dahyun looked at you blankly, with a small glint in her eyes. “well, why don’t you then?.” she asks, pursing her lips together and leaning in.

you smirked at her offer, gently placing your lips on hers. your hands having minds of their own finding their place on her cheek and waist as she pulled on your shirt, bringing you closer. a tender, loving kiss you and her shared until a smile creeps through dahyun’s lips as she snatched the picture away from your hands.

“come on dahyun! you can’t use kissing to your advantage like that.” you complained as she stood there with a smug smile.

“i can and i just did.” she triumphantly said, shrugging her shoulders as she still had the picture in her right hand. you slowly stepped closer to her, noticing what you were intending to do, this prompted dahyun to run across the apartment for a few seconds. a chase that only lasted two minutes and ended up with you two exhausted on the couch. the objective of getting the photo off of her was completely forgotten as she ran her fingers through your hair with you feeling her heartbeat on her chest.

you shift over to lay down with dahyun as she held up the picture, putting her other arm around your head to get more comfortable. “i love when you take pictures. i really do, even if it’s the embarrassing ones you usually capture.” you said as you felt dahyun turn her head towards you, her lips giving a soft kiss to your cheek.

“i know you do, but let me keep this one at least.” dahyun laid back down, adjusting herself to be on top of you and sighing happily. even though both of you were about to drift off to sleep, you knew what she said was genuine. the statement being that she loved you, how she appreciated you noticing the small minute things, and how you adored anything and everything about her.

—

three years on and pushing to four, in the regular nine to five weekday routine with occasional outings on the weekends, it was easy to get lost in the neverending cycle of labor. the apartment was a lot more lively now with ari, dahyun’s dog now running around the place, things around here were now more filled with love.

after a painstaking friday shift, you finally made it home first, discarding your shoes and placing your bag on the chair next to the kitchen island, sluggishly walking to the couch and flopping down. nothing was planned for the weekend and you intended to stay at home, without the thought of work running through your mind. you didn’t hate your job all that much, on the contrary, you enjoyed what you were doing with the marketing job despite the unhealthy hours at times. each day brought on a new task to encounter.

as you melt away on the couch and your eyes become drowsy, you hear the door click open. on nights like this you were accustomed to the daily routine of getting home first and then hearing dahyun come in saying that she’s home, following your pathway to the couch, opening your arms for her to come to your embrace; though it was different this time as you heard a slight shuffle of shoes being taken off followed by her small backpack.

dahyun then sauntered over to the couch and gently laid down on top of you, burying her head in your chest facing down. you adjust your arms eventually wrapping them around her back, patting it as you looked down to the top of her head. a slight concern stirred in your head since you noticed that something was out of the ordinary with her. out of respect for her state, you hugged her more closely as you muttered an “i love you “ lowly and stroked her hair after while she adjusted one more time before not moving again.

most nights were always lively with good vibes, but you also liked how there was not much to be said, just simple actions carried so much weight with how much you and dahyun loved each other. as you and her just stayed quietly with the dim light coming from the kitchen and the quiet motor of the humidifier filling up the silence. ahri also did say hi to you and dahyun, but went back to his bed playing with one of his chew toys.

as you felt the urge to sleep more and more, you felt dahyun’s soft breaths in a steady rhythm. you smiled at her head before you tried to close your eyes, only to be interrupted then.

the small body laying on top of you stirred for a bit with a few sniffles being picked up by your ears. your eyes opened up slightly wider and propped your body a little bit upward, met with a teary-eyed dahyun. the sight of her shattered your heart as you pulled her closer to you, tears and sniffles soaking the right shoulder of your shirt. you let her collect herself after a few minutes through crying before you ask anything.

“honey what’s wrong?” you kissed her forehead and fixed the few strands of hair behind her left ear, rubbing her cheek that was stained with tears.

“it’s- i was- i just…” she was struggling to say whatever she had on her mind as you shushed her, hugging her again and rubbing her back in small circles, something that she really liked you doing when comforting her.

“it’s okay, whatever it is i’ll listen.” you firmly said to her as she wiped her face. “i had a really bad day at work today. my boss kept adding on to what i was working on and i- i was so worried that i wouldn’t be able to finish it all.” you stared at her as she explained what was happening at her work. “i was able to but- i didn’t want to fail and with all the stress i…” she covered her face as she felt more tears about to break through.

you tilt your head, faintly sympathizing with what dahyun had to go through as you hugged her for the third time in the span of five minutes. knowing that it’s very rare that dahyun rants to you over something that stresses her, since most of the time it’s always happy and lighthearted. before she could jumble more of her words trying to get her point through, you silenced her with a quick peck that shifted to a subtle loving kiss to ease her train of thought.

pulling back and gazing into her inviting black eyes you rubbed her cheek again, “i’m proud of you working through what your boss asked you to do. it’s all in the past now and you have me.” you bombard dahyun with kisses again all over her face, drawing her a soft giggle in appreciation of your task. stopping for a moment to look at you again, she simply nodded as her sign of thank you and kissed you again.

“you’re the best y/n.” she softly says to you, “you know what to do and say to make me feel better and i’m thankful for that.” you tilt your head at her compliment as she shifts over to kiss your cheek before leaning back onto the couch sitting upright, rubbing her forearm in comfort.

“anything that i do should always make my girlfriend feel good. but since you’re not better yet, what do you want me to help with? i can cook us something for dinner or do you want me to stay with you longer?”

it shouldn’t be seen as an anomaly for you to be more gentle and devoting to dahyun. now if you didn’t act like this at all with her, that was a huge problem in itself. dahyun had managed to bring that side out that neither yourself or your friends would ever think that you’d have in the first place. while you did have that guarded demeanor, she also made you more protective of her feelings. it didn’t take that long for you to learn every detail and quirk that dahyun would show through her expressions. you knew exactly when she’s happy or mad; even the times she would cover up that sadness with a fake smile that she perfected.

“h-how do you expect me to feel fine if you say things like that?” she utters, “every time you do that my heart melts and i ca-” catching herself sniffling again, lightly punching your chest. you laughed at her statement, hugging her once again.

“i have something to show you.” you say, eying the coffee table centerpiece that had various items in it. in between the remotes you fished out a note, “i want you to read this. as a reminder of how i see myself to you.” handing the note to dahyun and watching her unfold it. the small sounds of the paper crumpling in the dimly lit apartment is all that is heard as dahyun begins to read the note you wrote from a while back when she was fast asleep and you were finishing up a late night project.

it took her about forty-five seconds to look at the short note that you written but once she finished reading it, she looked at you in awe. no tears were seen in her eyes as she closed the little space between you two in a loving hug. dahyun didn’t say anything nor did she ever have to with these tender moments with you as she pulled away, gazing into your eyes before giving you another long kiss and snuggled back into your chest. you picked the note away from her hand, holding it up high to look back on what you wrote,

dahyun,

you have done wonders for me when i first met you. i would never have thought of the limitless possibilities of things that i could accomplish alone if it weren’t for you being a part of my life. i thought that i could be content with just existing without making any true connections to anyone that i already knew. but all of that changed when you came along. i’ve said this multiple times to you but i’ll say this once again, thank you for everything. for showing me the beautiful world through your eyes, for being the keeper of my love and memories. for being the one change i will never regret making back when we were in school and i will always love you with everything in my heart.

love, y/n

#dahyun x reader #kim dahyun #twice dahyun #twice x reader #kpop x reader #twice imagines #twice fluff

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sister-lucifer · 1 year

Text

You Are Loved Here

Lucifer x Gender Neutral Reader

INSPIRED BY THESE HEADCANONS

Genre: Fluff

Summary: Reader is sick, and Lucifer has gone full caretaker mode to help them get better.

Content/Warnings: Lucifer hand feeds you if that sort of thing makes you uncomfortable, Reader takes some pills cuz sick, lots of praise and comfort from Luci, just tooth rotting fluff

Like my writing? I take requests! NSFW or SFW for any fandoms in my bio!

Also, please reblog! it’s free, takes two seconds, and really helps me out

Feedback is encouraged and appreciated:)

Not fully proofread! Let me know if you see any errors!

“My love? Are you awake?” Lucifer calls from the other side of the door, prompting you to open your heavy eyes. He waits a few moments before slowly creaking the door open, sighing with a smile when he sees you looking back at him.

He shuts the door behind him as quietly as he can before making his way over to you. He’s holding a tray with a bowl of steaming soup, a glass of water, and a couple of pills. He sets it down on your nightstand before turning his attention to you.

“Luci…fer…” You weakly call, throat scratchy and dry.

“Shhhh,” Lucifer replies, pulling off a glove and holding the back of his hand to your forehead. You instinctively lean into his comforting touch.

“Your fever seems to have gone down a bit,” he remarks, “That’s good. You need to keep resting, though.”

You nod as he retracts his hand, slipping it back into his glove. You shudder beneath your heavy blankets, pulling them up to your face.

“Now, now…I know you’re comfortable in that little cocoon of yours, but you have to sit up to eat.” Lucifer grabs an extra pillow off of a chair, encouraging you to sit up before placing it behind your back.

“Comfortable?”

“Mhm…”

“Good. Here.”

He hands you the glass of water and pushes it to your lips. You take a few sips, and he seems satisfied at this. He’s been nagging you about staying hydrated, after all.

“And these too,” He says as he takes your free hand and drops the pills into your palm. You can’t help but grimace at the sight. They’re not very big or hard to swallow, but no one likes taking medicine.

“I know, it’s not your favorite, but you need them.”

He’s right. You hate to admit it, but he’s right. You really should take them.

You heave a heavy sigh before taking a drink of water, holding it in your mouth before quickly pushing in one of the pills and swallowing hard.

“There we go,” Lucifer praises softly, “Halfway there. Now you only have to do that one more time.”

The kind words were unexpected, but certainly delightful to hear. It wasn’t often anyone got to hear him talk like that, especially you. It was enough to ease you in taking the last pill, which went down much smoother than the first.

“There we go…It gets easier every time, I promise.”

A soft hand came down on your side, tenderly rubbing up and down in a soothing motion. You lightly laid your hand atop his and gave a small squeeze.

“I’m sorry you don’t feel well, my love…” Lucifer whispered, leaning in to press a kiss to your warm forehead.

“ ‘s okay…” You replied, matching his quiet tone, “I feel a bit better today…”

“That’s good. Some warm soup will help.”

Lucifer takes the glass of water from

you and sets it down on the bedside table before placing the tray in your lap. You watch with tired eyes as he lifts the bowl, stirring the spoon around for a few moments before lifting it. He carefully blows on the spoonful of soup, and you can see the hot steam disperse quickly.

“Think you can keep this down?”

You nod, reaching out to take the spoon and bowl from him but he pulls away.

“Please, allow me.”

You hesitate, but allow it. Your hands fall back down to a resting position and absentmindedly toy with the edge of your blanket. Lucifer brings the spoon to your lips, and you open your mouth just enough for it to slip past your teeth.

You weren’t expecting it to taste as amazing as it did. Maybe you’ve just forgotten what good food tastes like—seeing as you haven’t had much of an appetite—so much so that your eyes widen a bit as you swallow. Lucifer chuckles under his breath.

“Good, isn’t it? I can’t take all the credit, though. The recipe belongs to Barbatos, I just followed it.”

“M..More, please…”

Lucifer gladly obliges, insisting on blowing off the next spoonful before allowing you to have it. You’re a bit more eager this time, leaning forward to accept the offering. Lucifer can’t help but smile at this, his heart fluttering at the sight of your excitement, even it if it is rather mild over something as small as good soup.

“I’m glad to see you like it. It’s the first real food you’ve had in a while.”

He wasn’t wrong. The past couple of days you’ve been surviving on crackers and tap water. You couldn’t keep much else down. You didn’t realize until now how hungry you’d been.

“More, please…” You ask again, but Lucifer is already bringing up the spoon once more.

There’s part of you that wishes this moment could last forever. Maybe not the fever or the dull ache in your head or the scratch in the back of your throat, but this unusual closeness with Lucifer. He loves you, and he tells you so every chance he gets, but to experience that love is something else entirely. With each spoonful you feel a bit more full, a bit more content. There’s a soft warmth blooming in your stomach that’s sprouting tall vines that climb up your body, wrapping around your shivering limbs and calming your heartbeat.

Warm, but not hot. Not sweaty or restrictive or heavy. Just warm. Comfortable.

Loving.

Unfortunately, all good things must come to an end, and you’ve only made it halfway through your meal before your body begins to protest. The next time he brings the spoon to your mouth, you push it away and shake your head. Lucifer pauses, and for a moment you’re worried he may be disappointed.

Of course, he’s not.

“Is that all for now? Well, that’s quite alright. You ate more than I thought you could. Good job.”

There’s no denying the way the praise makes your heart skip a beat. If it weren’t for the fever hiding it, your face would surely feel hot.

Lucifer sets the tray back down on the bedside table as he stands, brushing himself off and cracking his back with a groan.

“I’m going to keep this in the fridge for you in case you decide you want more, and I promise to keep Beelzebub away from it at all costs.”

Your laugh quickly devolves into a weak cough, but you smile through it all the same. Lucifer gives you one last kiss on the cheek before departing, looking back one last time before closing the door.

“Feel better soon, my dear, and please let me know if you need anything.”

As the door gently clicks back into place and Lucifer’s footsteps fade away, there is one prevailing thought that grows in your mind.

You can’t help but allow yourself to feel how overwhelmingly loved you are here.

#obey me shall we date #obey me #obey me lucifer #lucifer #obey me fluff #obey me x gender neutral reader #obey me x reader #lucifer obey me #lucifer x reader #lucifer fluff #sick fic #sick reader

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musings-of-miss-j · 12 days

Text

no rest for the wicked (nor the foolish)

part seven: in which the obscenely wealthy resident makes himself a permanent fixture to your list of problems, even after you find comfort in the normality of Snezhnaya's city (and its firewater)

a harbingers x gn reader series!! (includes dottore, childe, arlecchino and pantalone x reader. the rest of the harbingers will most likely not be romantic interests)

notes: cuz i set fire to the rain but rain won't fucking catch fire fuck's sake (slowburn), gn neutral sarcastic legend sick of ppl's bs reader, slightly suggestive

series masterlist

author's notes: *throws this chapter at u like its crumbs and ur pigeons on the pavement*

reblog the crumbs my pigeons <3

word count: 5134 words

* ੈ✩‧₊˚* ੈ✩‧₊˚* ੈ✩‧₊˚* ੈ✩‧₊˚* ੈ✩‧₊˚** ੈ✩‧₊˚* ੈ✩‧₊˚* ੈ✩‧₊˚* ੈ✩‧₊˚* ੈ✩‧₊˚** ੈ✩‧₊˚*

Snezhnaya was so cold. Bitingly, piercingly, mercilessly cold. But the city was warmer, more welcoming. Despite the icy wasteland surrounding it, the rows of shops and frosted-over streetlights boasted an almost friendly atmosphere, tinny music trickling through the cracks of some of the doors and stalls advertising ‘the greatest hot chocolate ever sold!’. Childe took hold of your hand under the guise of not wanting to lose you when you passed through a particularly busy street, but neglected to let go even after the crowd dispersed. You let him, and dragged him into a cosy bookstore piled high with well-loved stories. He insisted on carrying every book you chose while you browsed, following you through the shelves with hardcovers piled high in his arms, leading the owner of the shop to shoot the two of you a knowing glance you didn’t particularly like. A clothes shop nestled into a corner also caught your eye, and after a pleasant half hour of perusing the finest selection of furs and suits and dresses you’d ever seen you left with a brand new cloak to replace your lost one, black with silver clasps and a fur trim that would have been expensive enough to haunt you for a week or so, if Childe hadn’t sneakily paid for it the moment you picked it up. He led you to the city’s landmarks; the frozen fountains and an ice rink you refused to step onto, and you even let him drag you into a tavern.

“Eleven, please. I’m far from a good drinking partner.” Your protest sounded weak even to your own ears; you were quite curious to try the infamous Snezhnayan firewater, and the tavern was wonderfully warm.

“Don’t shoot it ‘til you’ve tried it,” he cheerfully replied, pulling you through the door by your joined hands and steering you towards a table near the window. The place was rowdier than you��d expected; a bard sang and danced on a tabletop, strumming a ukulele while the clattering of coins hitting the surface melded with the people’s laughter and clapping hands. You were reminded of the irresponsible, green-clad bard from Mondstadt who’d avoided you at every turn yet shone onstage. Before you knew it, you were laughing and knocking back a drink yourself, leaning back in your seat and letting your voice join the cheers and chatter. Childe marvelled at how much more relaxed you were outside of the palace, the tenseness in your shoulders gone and the sceptical furrow between your brows softened, one arm hooked around the back of your chair while you swirled your drink with the other hand.

“Say, Eleven,” you half-yelled to be heard over the ruckus. “What possessed you to join this Archons-forsaken association?”

“Quickest way to become a better fighter.”

You laughed under your breath, downing the rest of your drink. No more for you tonight, that was certain; pleasantly tipsy was one thing but you were far from keen on being flat-out drunk.

“Is that so?” You quipped back, appraising him thoughtfully. “You know, Eleven, I’ve heard some gut-churning things about you,” you mused, leaning forward to rest your elbows on the table. “That you’re a bloodthirsty maniac. A murderous villain. That your only home is the battlefield.”

His breath caught in his throat. Here you were, tearing out any last semblances of goodness he still thought he had and laying them before him, tattered and bleeding. And you did it all with that small, thoughtful smile. The ambience of the tavern flickered like a faulty speaker, his ears filling with anxious static.

“I think you’re more than half-decent, though.” Alcohol certainly loosened tongues. The cacophony of the bar came rushing back.

You stacked a few coins on the table to pay for your drink, heedless of the relief coursing through his veins like the most potent drug. You knew. He didn’t know how, but you knew about the savagery lurking so near to the surface of the charm that had once come so naturally to him but now took an effort to maintain, and you didn’t hate him for it. More than half-decent. You might as well have called him a prince. He felt giddy, drunk on your praise.

Breaking out of his trance, he firmly pushed your mora back in your direction and paid for the drinks himself despite your objections. You bickered over the matter the entire trek back to the palace, settling into the easy familiarity of squabbling back and forth with him. He accompanied you to the dining hall, too, claiming he had nothing to do at all even though Pierro was getting impatient at the lack of progress he’d made on tracking the Geo Gnosis; after all, what significance did godhood hold compared to you and the divine splendour of your laughter?

You found Arlie idling just outside. Preposterous, that she’d be reduced to dawdling around in hopes to see you, but there she was nonetheless, with the last plate of your favourite dessert that she’d snagged before a poor recruit could get his hands on it to boot. All damning evidence of her budding affection. Pleasantly surprised to see her, you made to introduce her to Childe.

“Oh, Arlie! I didn’t expect to see you today.”

She and Childe’s gazes met over the top of your head, the latter stupefied at seeing one of the most high-ranking Harbingers being referred to so casually, and by you, upholder of titles, no less, while the former shot him a formidable glare that warned him to hold his tongue lest she rip it out for him. She nodded shortly at your introduction.

“Childe and I are familiar.”

You hummed and pursed your lips. Surely this was ample confirmation that she was a Harbinger.

“Lovely, we’re all friends here then,” you said with just a touch of sardonic humour. “Why don’t we take lunch together?” You suggested, mostly as a way to further observe their dynamic and gather more evidence to support your theory. Arlie handed you the plate without ceremony.

“I’ve already had lunch, but I’d be happy to accompany you.” Even if she found Childe exuberantly foolish.

“I could eat,” Childe seconded, slinging an arm around your shoulders, not missing the way you beamed at her little gift.

Thus you found yourself seated under a gazebo in the palace gardens, pointedly ignoring the strained tension between your two companions while you admired the snow you’d once lamented and contentedly ate the berries from your pavlova. What a funny situation. You weren’t quite sure how you’d ended up befriending two higher-ups from a supposedly dangerous organisation and willingly spending time in their company over a plate of such exquisite dessert, but you supposed life had a way of being funny like that.

“Do enlighten me as to how the two of you know each other,” you said, waving your spoon vaguely. They let an ear-splitting silence fall, tense and rigid. You pointedly ignored the on-edge atmosphere, taking another bite of your pavlova.

“Well?” You prompted.

Childe clenched his teeth momentarily. “We were assigned on the same mission this reconnaissance cycle.” Arlie offered a non-committal hum of agreement.

“Interesting. And why is it that you seem on the verge of lunging at each other with the intent of causing as much bodily harm as possible?” You asked in a deceptively innocent tone. Childe wished you weren’t so clever sometimes, while Arlie turned her head away to hide her smile.

“Enough about us,” she interjected, leaning forward slightly to adjust the insignia you had pinned to the shoulder of your new cloak. “Tell me how you liked the city.”

“Snezhnayan firewater certainly lives up to its reputation for being extremely potent,” you replied with a shrug, setting aside your empty plate. “And Lord Eleven has similarly scandalous reputation outside the palace,” you added slyly, just to push his buttons. A bit of payback for not telling the truth about how he knew Arlie.

He choked on air. “What?”

Arlie raised an eyebrow. “What, indeed. Care to explain, Childe?”

“Not really,” he responded airily, tugging at his collar and clearing his throat. One advantage of Arlecchino being disguised like this was that he could somewhat safely dodge her authority under the guise of protecting her alibi.

Childe was saved from describing the reason for his less-than-ideal reputation when a young recruit, barely eighteen from the looks of it, came marching hurriedly towards you. Apparently the Director of the Harbingers himself was requesting Childe’s presence, and he left with more than a little reluctance and a wave goodbye. Arlie watched him rush off and allowed herself a moment’s satisfaction at the timely intervention. You touched her shoulder to catch her attention again, a small leather box in hand.

“I bought you something from the city,” you said, offering it to her. She stared at it in silence for so long you feared you might have offended her, when really her mind was spinning with the implications of you buying her a gift.

You swallowed nervously. She still hadn’t accepted the gift from your outstretched hand, staring blankly at the little box.

“Do you not want it?”

“I do,” she all but snapped, finally taking it. “I was… surprised, is all.”

A four-leafed brooch lay inside, gleaming black metal inlaid with red gemstones that glittered as they caught the light.

Her silence left you a little nervous, and you found yourself rambling uncharacteristically to fill it. “The merchant was adamant that it’s crafted entirely from the finest silver, but I didn’t test it in the lab yet. But I can confirm that the jewels have a purity of at least seventy five percent, and it’ll fetch a handsome bit of mora if you choose to sell it”-

“Thank you. It’s…” Stunning? Lovely? Beautiful? Arlecchino was truly at a loss for words, and fought not to stare at you. What a warming thought, that you’d spotted a little trinket and your mind had conjured her as a recipient for a gift. How lovely, to think that she occupied your thoughts enough to become a regular visitor. “It’s exceptionally well-made.”

You beamed. “I’m glad to hear that. You seem to prefer black and white clothing, I think the red will serve as a striking contrast.”

“Indeed,” she agreed mechanically, offering you the barest hint of a smile. You could tell her the sun rose in the west and paper was inflammable and she’d probably agree at that moment. A part of her despised how much power that gave you. You took out your pocket watch.

“Ah, perhaps we should go back inside,” you suggested, rising from the bench and brushing away the layer of snow on your shoulders. “According to my observations, the temperature drops quite rapidly at around this time, and I have a few letters to write.”

Arlie quickly excused herself once inside the palace (to ruminate alone over her gift), leaving you to take a pile of your best parchment and a pot of your smoothest, most pigmented ink to the Regrator’s library. It took a moment of fumbling with your stationery to kneel and get the door open, but the sight within was as rewarding as it had been the last time you stumbled upon the place; bathed in the late afternoon’s pale golden light, the fire crackling merrily and glinting off the silver etched into the bookshelves, chairs comfortable and inviting. You gladly dropped into one of them, sighing contentedly as the plush leather enveloped you, and began penning addresses onto envelopes with magnificent blue and purple quill you’d received from your friends as a graduation gift. You still didn’t know where such a large, vibrantly coloured feather could have come from.

Sumeru – Sumeru City – The Akademiya – Scribe Alhaitham

Mondstadt – Mondstadt City – Mona Megistus

Inazuma – Watatsumi Island – Sangonomiya Kokomi

Liyue – Wangsheng Funeral Parlour – Director Hu Tao

Fontaine – Opera Epiclese – Duellist Clorinde

With some reluctance, you also marked an envelope Inazuma, Narukami Shrine for Yae Miko. The contract you’d signed all those years ago to provide her publishing house with what she called ‘light novels’ would never end.

How far-flung your friends seemed, scattered throughout Teyvat with seemingly no rhyme or reason. Maybe you’d take to travelling again once your diploma was finished, a vacation of sorts to see everyone … You filed that thought away for later contemplation.

For a while, the only sounds in the library were the scratching of your quill on parchment, the slight rattling of the stained glass windows as the late afternoon breeze whooshed by and… faint talking? You frowned slightly, glancing up from your writing. Two voices, vaguely familiar and gradually rising in volume; an argument, then. How irritating. You ignored it for as long as you could, until the shouting was clearly decipherable and loud enough to make your quill pause every few sentences to rearrange your thoughts (you and Lisa’s correspondence was mainly in the form of original poetry, and the distraction was making it even more difficult to find a rhyme for ‘Harbinger’.) The noise grew unbearable, and with an aggravated huff you left your things laying on the armchair to ascertain the source and perhaps ask them to quiet down.

Honestly. People’s utter disregard for a library’s rules is intolerable.

After spending some time weaving through the towering bookshelves and past iced-over windows, angry voices growing louder and louder, you finally located the culprits.

It seemed you wouldn’t be asking anyone to quiet down, considering the argument was between Signora and the Regrator. Just your luck, really. Resigned to sealing the envelopes and finalising the calculations of your lab report back at the dorm, you turned to leave only for them to fall silent.

“(Name?)”

You cursed under your breath and pivoted on your heel to face the mortifying situation you’d found yourself in.

“My lord, my lady,” you managed after a strained moment of trying to collect yourself. “I heard shouting”- Signora and the Regrator shot each other a heated glare- “and thought it might be wise to investigate.” You conveniently left out the part where you’d gotten so riled up that you were quite prepared to admonish whoever it was. They didn’t need to know that.

“Nothing to worry about,” the Regrator assured smoothly, brushing invisible dust off his shoulders. He wore velvet today, supple and sophisticated, while Signora sported a lavish fur collar that she angrily swept back around her neck. You had to admit her elegance indisputably came naturally to her; even with her face twisted into a frown and no one to impress, she still radiated an effortless air of refinement and superiority.

The Regrator was different. Those endless eyes, that deliberate half-smile, his tasteful-bordering on-excessive attire, the guarded disposition… all of it hinted at a man who’d started low and clawed his way to the top. You were willing to bet he still had the blood under his fingernails to prove it, and wondered if it haunted him at all. There wasn’t any hint of remorse in his polished smile or fathomless eyes. An apprehensive shiver ran up your spine, and you averted your gaze.

“If you’ll excuse me”-

“No, no. Sit down, little one, we could use a mediator,” Signora cut in, gesturing towards an empty chair with a tilt of her head, never once breaking the intense glare she pointed at the Regrator. You sighed, thinking of your yet-to-be-delivered letters and the lab report that still needed writing.

“As much as I’d love to act as the referee for your dispute”- the Regrator had to suppress a genuine laugh at your carefully derisive wording, while Signora let an imperceptible, fond smile take over her face- “I’m afraid I have some rather urgent matters to attend to.”

“Surely not so urgent that you’d risk upsetting us?”

How he managed to sound so innocent yet sly was beyond you. The mischievous slant of his lips betrayed the true intention behind his deceptively benign tone; to embarrass its recipient for his own entertainment. Not to mention how breaching etiquette felt akin to throwing yourself to the sharks when it came to him. Something about the Regrator exuded propriety and demanded a similar demeanour to be maintained, unlike the rest of the Harbingers around whom a certain degree of sarcasm could safely be upheld; Childe could even be described as friendly, and despite the Doctor’s terrible reputation and a justifiable ego thanks to his unparalleled intellect your mutual inclination towards scientific progress made him more approachable, while Signora had yet to berate you for any lapse in politeness, instead regarding you with a sharp smile and an air of superiority that made it quite clear to you that she found you funny. Demeaning, really.

Still, your current problem was how to escape the cage of social obligation Regrator had managed to weave.

“I’m afraid so, Lord Regrator,” you confirmed drily, offering him and Signora a shallow bow. “Here’s to hoping your dispute comes to a swift and satisfying end.”

You moved to leave, gladdened by your evidently inoffensive departure. He couldn’t have that, of course; you’d caught his interest and he’d decided to indulge in his curiosity.

“Allow me to join you,” he proposed, falling into step next to you. Signora let out a very audible tsk. You couldn’t help but agree with her.

“I really don’t think that’ll be necessary”-

“Many of the best things in life aren’t,” he responded, guiding you towards the door with a hand on your back. Annoyed by him trying to steer you, you sped up and went to collect the letters; the Regrator, undeterred by how you’d shrugged away his touch, took the stack of envelopes from you. Wary of accepting any help from a Harbinger, you attempted to retrieve them with an array of pleasantries such as ‘there’s really no need, I can carry them myself’ and ‘you’re really too kind’.

To no avail; in the end, he even managed to nick your satchel right off your shoulder and carry it the entire way back to your dorm, much to your embarrassment. You supposed it was only polite to invite him inside, not that you’d expected him to graciously accept your invitation and make himself comfortable in the armchair across the fireplace. You didn’t miss the way his fingers traced the patches of embroidery you’d painstakingly made along the seams, rows of tiny colourful flowers stitched for the purpose of improving your dexterity before a particularly finicky experiment and maybe even to leave a mark of your stay here; the fact he’d noticed them at all indicated an impressive attention to detail that made you wonder what else might stand out to him about your living space. Perhaps he found your accommodations excessively modest. The thought amused you no end; a rich boy out of his depth would never not be funny, after all. He seemed utterly at ease, though, content to watch you shed your new cloak and pick out leaves and cups for tea without any conversation, those dark eyes following your every move.

“You’re staring quite intently, my lord,” you remarked, handing him a cup of tea and wrapping your gloved fingers around your own.

“Beauty should be appreciated, no?”

You laughed under your breath, hoping you weren’t blushing at such a clichéd line. “I suppose I walked into that one,” you conceded, resting your weight against the edge of your desk and wondering how best to broach the topic of why he accepted your invitation to come inside. He smiled and lifted the teacup to his lips, as if aware of your internal dilemma. You cursed every aspect of his polished personality for making you feel like you had to be especially polite.

“Is the tea to your liking?”

“Delectable,” he assured. That vexing half-smile on his face was starting to get on your nerves; it was as though he was contemplating something awfully hilarious about your countenance that you weren’t aware of.

You offered him a nod of acknowledgement, turning to sort through the pages upon pages of calculations you’d made for your next experiment. It pertained to the various elemental crystals that apparently gave Vision holders extra power; a relatively recent discovery you’d made in your last year at the Akademiya and one you were quite proud of. It still needed further testing before you could guarantee the benefits of using them and how to do so, but the theoretical efficiency you’d calculated was very high at a whopping ninety-four point seven per cent. You really were quite proud of this potential breakthrough, and were excited to share it with the Doctor, someone who’d appreciate the complexities of an experiment even before it came to fruition. Maybe you’d gift Childe a gemstone of the Varunada Lazurite variety after the testing stage was concluded, since he was so incessantly obsessed with improving his combat prowess. You doubted Arlie’s illusionary magic would benefit from such a crystal, though. It didn’t quite shock you as much as it should’ve that you were so casually thinking of gifting a Harbinger something, as though you were friends. Perhaps you did consider them friends. Your brows furrowed infinitesimally. How bizarre.

The Regrator interrupted your musings with a slight laugh.

“I must know what’s on your mind to have such a puzzled expression cross your face.”

Embarrassed by his scrutiny, you cleared your throat and neatly stacked your paperwork into the wooden case to avoid looking at those eyes.

“Nothing at all,” you insisted. “Just my research.”

It was becoming a familiar lie.

“Well then, do enlighten me,” he said, peering up at you over his glasses. You paused in the act of rewriting a horribly complex chemical equation with the correct stoichiometric ratios. You couldn’t believeyou’d made such a foolish mistake, and you grimaced at the thought of the ridicule you would’ve no doubt received from the Doctor if you ended up submitting it.

“I doubt it’ll be of much interest to you, my lord.”

“I suspect I may surprise you yet,” he replied, gazing up at you expectantly.

You drummed your fingers against the wooden surface of your desk, deep in thought. From your perspective, common sense dictated that you should not under any circumstances share the details of your research lest someone apply for a patent of the invention before you, and thus take all the credit for the discovery. You suppressed a shudder of revulsion at the thought. No, the Regrator was not to be trusted with the minutiae of your research.

Celestia’s sake, he’s a banker. He’s not to be trusted, period!

You turned to face him, the beginnings of an idea just barely discernible in the quirk of your brows, the smile on your lips that was a little too devious to be written off as merely polite.

“Why not enlighten me with details about your work instead?”

You sly little trickster.

He surveyed you with a half-smile not unlike the one on your own face, impressed by your deflection.

“Hm. Seems we’ve hit an impasse,” he remarked, crossing one leg over the other and leaning back in the armchair, the picture of immovable and infuriatingly self-assured calm. A side effect of being rich, you supposed, watching him get comfortable with mental sigh. You’d hoped he’d be on his way soon; evidently that would not be the case. “We’re both unwilling to part with the secrets of our trade.”

“Yes, quite,” you agreed with a laugh you couldn’t suppress. It was amusing to think that the Regrator, a man who obviously dealt in meticulously worded phrases with a penchant for hiding his true intentions behind walls of elegance, was being forced to get straight to the point with no purposeful stalling whatsoever. Because of you, no less. Oddly enough, he found himself not quite as incensed as he would’ve expected at being the subject of your hilarity. Perhaps that had something to do with how agreeable mirth looked on you, softening the ever-present suspicion even if only for a moment.

What an interesting little thing you were turning out to be.

He watched as your eyes began to wander in the silence that followed, first to your window and the glowing flowers sprouting from the cracks around it, then to the fire in the hearth where it lingered for a little longer, along the walls, tracing the silver lines engraved on them, before finally resting on his hand. He wondered which of his many rings you were so fixated on.

“Perhaps we should both retire for the night, my lord,” you suggested, tearing your gaze away from the diamond ring you were still quite interested in testing. He raised his eyebrows, his smile turning devious.

“What, together? I didn’t think you were so forward, (Name.)”

You almost wished his insinuation was lost on you. It wasn’t, tragically, and you had to contend with the mortifying ordeal of flushing crimson and briefly debating on whether to say the first thing that came to mind, if nothing else to rile him up as much as he did you (‘Well, I wouldn’t oppose to the idea unless you did.’)

Damned banker and his damned dirty mind…

His fingers were still running over your little garden of embroidered flowers, eyes crinkling ever so slightly at the corners from the wideness of his smile. Abandoning any semblance of courtesy, you opened the door and gestured pointedly at him to leave. Your fear of the Harbingers seemed inconsequential compared to the sheer magnitude of the frustration they caused you. You could only maintain a façade of perfect grace for so long, after all.

“With all due respect, my lord”- (how wonderful you sounded without anything to filter your opinion of him in that moment. Even if said opinion was decidedly negative) – “I’d like you to leave. You’re disturbing me. And there’s a cursed redox apparatus I need to wake up at an ungodly hour to check on.” You muttered the last part testily under your breath, dragging a hand down your face and lamenting the fact you hadn’t waited until later to set it up.

“Come, now. Surely you won’t just kick me out like this?” Regrator implored, sounding more relaxed than upset. “The night is young. Let us at least have a proper conversation.”

How you longed to understand why he insisted on pestering you. Surely he had better things to do. Although, you mused to yourself as you openly sized him up, maybe he’ll leave if I talk to him. Just for a while.

“What would you have us speak of?” You asked wryly, folding your legs to perch cross-legged on your desk chair. “It doesn’t seem likely that we’ll find a shared topic of interest.”

“Why ever not?” He returned, raising his eyebrows. “Do you have such a negative impression of me that you think I can’t keep up with you in conversation?”

“Of course not. I never implied that, my lord.”

He laughed at your swift denial. Clearly you were still apprehensive of his status as a Harbinger, not that he blamed you.

“I hear you’ve received an invitation to the annual gala.”

Your face contorted at the reminder, brows drawing inwards and a frown tugging your lips further away from a smile as your jaw tensed.

“Ah, yes. I’d almost forgotten about that. Lady Eight was so kind as to invite me.” Your real meaning was clear despite the unwavering civility of your words: Lady Eight could very well eat her left shoe. Beautiful women can really get away with anything, you mused to yourself.

“Yet you seem less than overjoyed by the situation,” he remarked, sliding one of his rings up and down his finger as he watched you.

With a sigh, you rested your elbows on your knees and your chin in your hands, proper posture be damned to the lowest ring of hell. “It’s just not my scene, I suppose.”

“Uncomfortable with large crowds of people?”

You scowled at the floor in response to his mocking tone. “Displeased by the public’s general idiocy, more like,” you muttered under your breath, hating the Regrator just a little more for coaxing you into revealing your weakness then taunting you for it.

The Regrator was beginning to think that he enjoyed your scorn even more than your artificial flattery. He’d be hard-pressed to think of a more artful way ridicule his opponent in a verbal altercation without being too direct and ruining the element of subtlety he so valued.

“But you’ll still be attending, no?”

“Unless divine intervention occurs for the first time in this century, yes, I will.”

“Good, good,” he all but purred, relaxing even further back in the armchair. You glowered at the floor. Your armchair. That he was sitting in. He effectively snapped you out of your trance of gradually building wrath with his next question.

“Would you do me the honour of a dance, when the gala does roll around?”

It took a moment of unconvinced staring for you to realise that he was, in fact, being serious.

“If you insist, my lord.” You were confident in your ability to sneak off and prevent such a thing from ever happening, in the unlikely scenario that he even remembered. He smiled entirely too cunningly for your liking, as though he knew exactly what you were planning. You shook off the feeling, rising to your feet when he did the same and throwing a mental celebration when he made his way to the door.

“Let’s not make this our last conversation,” were his parting words before he left. You consoled yourself with the fact that speaking to the Regrator was intellectually stimulating if nothing else, what with having to constantly dodge his questions and avoid offending him too much while making sure your own pride didn’t end up bruised. A raven warbled outside your window, and you cracked the window open despite the sigh of frigid air that sneaked its way into the room to feed it.

“Hello there, pretty,” you murmured, scattering an array of seeds and nuts across the windowsill and watching as the raven, one of the flock you’d so tenuously befriended, hopped across the stone and pecked at your offerings. You hadn’t expected them to be so open to human interaction, but the ravens were quite comfortable with waking you at dawn with their incessant squawking and arriving at your window in a flurry of black feathers to demand more food. You liked them, with all their melancholy glory and sharp little eyes and the symbolism of death they were so often associated with. There were worse visitors clad in ebony to have, you decided, an image of the Regrator appearing in your mind’s eye.

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