"Death Is Calling" [A Date With Death ]
IM IN LOVE WITH HIM ALSO errmm take this small fanfic ?!? I HAVE NEVER WRITTEN FANFICS BEFORE SO PLEASE FORGIVE ME 🙇♀️🙇♀️ MY HEART IS SO FULL OF HIM omg
// spoiler warnings for Ending 3 //
When you first kiss Casper, you are pleasantly surprised by how receptive he is.
Your lips press against his, soft and gentle as he lays on your bed, caged by your arms. With his chest pressed against yours, you could feel his heartbeat thumping against his chest, strong— alive. Life thrums in his veins, evident more when you press a kiss upon his neck; to which he lets out a soft moan, and his pulse quickens significantly.
“Not too much now,” he gasps, a gloved hand covering his mouth as he averts his gaze, almost like he is shy to your affections. “Oh, shit. Wow.”
A laugh escapes you as you give him a final peck on his cheek, curiously flush but lacking warmth. His skin is cold. No matter. You have enough heat in you to warm him up.
“You like it?” you ask, tilting your head, feeling a smile tug at your lips. You roll to the side, plopping yourself next to him. “Was I a good first kiss, Grimmy?”
He snorts. “Yes, of course you were.” He slides an arm over your shoulders, pulling you closer to him. You comply, nestling your head in the crook of his shoulder— breathing in his clean scent. “...And an excellent second kiss. And the six others that followed it were great, too.”
“Great! I'll make sure to add that to my resume.”
He rolls his eyes but it's affection plastered onto his face— and he seemingly has no more energy to think of a clever remark to your sarcasm. He wraps his arms around you, chin resting against the crown of your head, your face flush against his chest as his eyelids flutter shut. You feel a pang of jealousy towards Azrael; was this what it was like to be cuddled in bed?
“Sleep,” you murmur. “Get used to the bed, Casper. Get used to me.”
“Mmh.”
“Wait. Take off your clothes.” His eyes shoot open and he raises an eyebrow, opening his mouth to say something. You cut him off before he can, sitting up. “I have a spare t-shirt you can wear.”
“Oh.” You swear disappointment flashes over his beautiful features. He catches your t-shirt when you toss it over to him, his mouth tightening into a small frown as he inspects the well-worn red and black thing— the print faded and slightly peeling. You avert your gaze as he strips himself, listening to the rustle of the fabric as he slides the t-shirt over his head. “You listen to System of A Down? Wasn't expecting that, sunshine.”
“Eh. Helps me sleep at night.” You shrug as you keep your eyes trained on the bouquet of stolen sunflowers Casper gave you yesterday, warmth and affection blooming in your chest. You play with the fraying edges of your blanket as you wait for him to finish changing. “Keep it. Matches your whole red-and-black aesthetic, no?”
He laughs, it sounds almost like a snort. “Thanks, sunshine. I can't wait to see what other merch I can steal from you next.”
You turn back, pleasantly surprised at how well the t-shirt fits him— slightly oversized so that you could see a tease of porcelain skin from the way the neckline drapes along his exposed shoulder. Your gaze drops down to his lap, where he has taken hostage of one of your pillows— likely a temporary placeholder for Azrael.
You settle back into bed with him, taking your preferred side of the bed, removing the pillow from his arms and tucking yourself back into his arms. He doesn't complain.
It's a wonder how you both feel so comfortable with each other. You wrap him in an embrace, and he doesn't pull away; his arms slot perfectly between yours, and his touch is tender, not bearing the stiffness of unfamiliarity. It's almost as if you've known him your entire life.
Given the fact death has followed you since you were a child, maybe you have. Maybe Casper has grown alongside you, even if it isn't possible given reapers don't exactly ‘grow’. It's a pleasant thought. Sort of like a guardian angel, in a way.
Perhaps that is why you feel so comfortable around death— around him.
His eyelashes rest upon his cheeks while he sleeps, and his breathing comes and goes in slow, steady breaths. You can't help but stare at him. He's pretty. And he's all yours.
“Sleep,” he murmurs, as if sensing your alertness. His eyes open, and you feel a slight pang of regret at waking him— but that all melts away when you feel him run his fingers through your hair soothingly. He nuzzles his face into the crook of your shoulder. “I won't kill you in your sleep, you know. I'm a changed man.”
“I know, I know, thank you for that,” you chuckle, kissing the crown of his head. “I love you, Casper.”
“Mm.” His fingers rub soothing circles on your back, as if coaxing you to sleep, and his voice is tender with affection. “Love you too, sunshine.”
You listen to the steady breathing of Casper as he sleeps— a rhythmic melody that threatens to lull you off to sleep as well. You close your eyes and surrender. He snores rather softly, you come to find. You don't mind. Not at all.
In the midst of life's chaos, you fall asleep in the arms of Death himself.
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