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nik-knight · 1 year ago

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Chapter 1: Angel Cat Chapter 2: Tracy’s House Chapter 3: Their First Rain Chapter 4: A Dulled Discovery Chapter 5: Somebody to Hold Chapter 6: A Touch Too Much Chapter 7: The Cracks in Your Frame [WARNING: There are mentions of sexual and domestic abuse in this chapter. (It's more of a near-miss and very little of it is described in detail.) These mentions are written in italicized paragraphs and can be skipped without missing the plot. Please take caution when reading.] It hadn’t taken him long to pack his bags the following morning. He had a few flashy outfits left over from… before, but otherwise, he wasn’t a cat of great fortune. The few possessions he had to his name were just the collar around his neck and a singular red fishy kick toy. His one duffel bag fit everything he owned, and although it was convenient when one always needed to be ready to get up and run, he still wished he had somewhere to put his meager possessions and leave them there, yet Crowley still had nothing close to what he could call home.

He wouldn’t find a home here, either.

Although he was still upset about what he’d heard the previous night, he could not truly be angry. Anathema was a good person. She was smart and confident and even offered Crowley a place to stay during his fostering. He had no right to blame Anathema for his own shortcomings as a housecat. Still, she had been kind to him during his time in Tadfield, and he would not repay her kindness by taking up more of her time and space when he was obviously not wanted here.

He also did not want her to fret and worry when she would find that Crowley was nowhere to be found while he was under her care. So he placed his duffel bag carefully at the foot of the bed and headed out to tell Anathema that he would spare her the trouble of fostering him any longer. Then he would take the nearest bus back into the city and pray that the shelter hadn’t already given away his room.

He took a deep breath and left the guest bedroom.

And then there was a loud crash and the sound of Anathema shouting from the kitchen.

Ana!

Crowley was already running to the kitchen. What happened? Was Anathema hurt? Did she burn herself, or– or did something fall on her? He needed to check and make sure she was all right. Crowley rushed into the kitchen’s doorway and saw Anathema pressing herself against the cupboards with her hands braced on the kitchen counter as a little mouse scampered across the kitchen floor. He didn’t hesitate even a moment.

“I’ve got it!” After finding the source of Anathema’s distress, Crowley leapt forward and grabbed the offending rodent in his hands, holding it tight so that it couldn’t wriggle away. He stood and lifted the little mouse in triumph.

Anathema breathed a heavy woosh in a relieved sigh.

“Oh, thank god. Thanks, Crowley.” She visibly relaxed when she saw him get up with the mouse in hand. “I was having a stressful enough morning without a mouse running across the tabletop as I was working.” She gestured to the table where she had more of her witch knick-knacks, an open laptop, her phone, and that one big old book she took everywhere with her.

“Oh, um, what’s been stressing you out?” Crowley tentatively asked. Maybe if he could get her to bring up the issue first, he could simply ease her worries with the news that he was leaving instead of awkwardly exiling himself.

Anathema rubbed at her temple and sighed again with the sound of exhaustion. “A lot’s been going on recently between all the prophecies I’ve been trying to decipher and everything that’s been going on with Newt…” She waved her hand at her phone on the table, indicating that she’d been talking with someone.

Newt? Who the hell was Newt?

“Newt? Do you have some sort of other lizard pet that I don’t know about?” He thumbed the top of the captive mouse’s head idly as he spoke.

That at least got a chuckle out of her. “No, Newt is my, er, boyfriend? We haven’t officially given it a name but, yeah, we’re kind of together.” She took this moment to return to her seat at the table. “He’s gone back to university to study computer science, but he’s having a hard time, and he’s pretty much been messaging me every minute of the day.”

With perfect timing, her phone buzzed with yet another text message. Anathema just grunted and flipped her phone over on its screen.

“See what I mean?” She took her glasses off to rub at the bridge of her nose. “I have to tell him that I need a bit of space, just a little bit of a break from all the chaos while I’m working. At least that’s what Eve thought was a good idea.”

Oh.

Was that who Ana and Eve were talking about yesterday? Perhaps it wasn’t Crowley who was upsetting Anathema after all…

But that doesn’t mean he wasn’t also adding stress to her life.

“Sorry, Ana…” Crowley began, keeping his eyes down, glad he still kept his sunglasses on. He felt his ears fold back on his head. “I must not be making it any easier with me being here.” Crowley honestly didn’t expect her to simply give him a smile and a good-natured chuckle, but she did.

“Well, you keeping the houseplants and garden in check for me has certainly made things a little easier. Not to mention having a mouser in the house is a nice perk.” She gestured at the little mouse in Crowley’s hands as an example.

The hope that Crowley had been trying to keep dammed up suddenly burst back into his chest and filled his heart, leaving that terrible empty feeling he held last night behind. He did his best to keep his face from heating up, not used to being praised.

“Er, yeah. ‘S no problem, ya know.” He looked down at the mouse in his hands and quickly found a way to restore his reputation as the not-at-all-good-or-nice cat before things got too mushy. He lifted the mouse up towards his face so he could snarl at it. “That reminds me… I haven’t had any breakfast yet, and it looks like I’ve just caught myself a juicy little morsel.” His threatening must have worked, for the little mouse was now covering its eyes with its tiny paws, and Anathema was making a slightly concerned face.

“Maybe you could get rid of the mouse… outside? I’d rather not have to see that if I’m being honest.”

“Right, right, fine,” He mockedly groused. “As my human wishes. Can’t have her esteemed witchiness bear witness to nature’s most base atrocity.” With this, he did an over-the-top dramatic bow before slipping out of the kitchen and through the door to the back garden.

Turning back to her work in the kitchen with a heavy eye roll at the cat’s dramatics, Anathema wondered when Crowley had begun to consider her as his human.

***

Crowley shut the back door to the garden behind him and sat down in a patch of grass to think.

So, Anathema didn’t hate him. Or, at least, she probably didn’t hate him. If nothing else, she found him useful in his ability to tend to the garden and keep pests out. That was definitely a good thing. Even if he were a less-than-perfect companion, he could still be useful to her as a gardener and a mouser, and that was good.

Maybe there was still a sliver of hope for him after all. It was a better plan than fleeing, at least. If he couldn’t be a good companion, he might at least be able to earn his keep. It could work if he played his cards right, he could make this work. He just had to—

Squeak!

“Oi!” Crowley glared down at the mouse he was holding in his fist. “I’m trying to think here! What the hell do you want?”

The little brown mouse grappled at Crowley’s hand where he was squeezing the thing a little tighter than what would have been comfortable for it. Crowley quickly eased his grip so that it could breathe again, but then took the mouse in his other hand by grabbing it by its scruff and holding it in front of his face so he could properly growl at it.

“All right, here’s the deal,” he snarled with as much menace as he could muster, making sure his sunglasses slid down his nose just enough so that the mouse could see his slitted yellow eyes. “I’ve got plenty of food inside the cottage that doesn’t require me spitting out bones and fur to eat. So, since I’m feeling generous today, I’m going to let you live as long as you don’t come scampering back into the cottage uninvited. Undersssstood?” He hissed out the last bit, showing off his sharp canines for dramatic effect.

The mouse hanging by its scruff just blinked at him with his beady little eyes, then turned its head to the side, seeming much more interested in something just behind Crowley’s shoulder.

“Oi, pay attention when I’m threatening you! What’s got you so distracted?” Crowley looked over his shoulder and only saw one of the blackberry bushes that was kept in the garden. With autumn in full swing, the blackberries were ripe and ready to pick. Crowley turned back to see the rodent reaching out with a mouse’s equivalent of grabby-hands.

“Really?” Crowley growled. “I decide, with the kindness from my blackened heart, to spare you, and you’re asking to eat from my blackberry bush?” The bush was Anathema’s, not his, but he wasn’t up to explaining to the mouse his current housing predicament.

The mouse replied by pitifully rubbing its tummy with its paws and letting out the tiniest little squeak that sounded a lot like it was saying, “Please?”

This brought out a long deep growl from within Crowley’s throat as he fully bared his teeth. The little mouse covered his eyes with his paws again, not wanting to see its own imminent demise.

Crowley continued to growl until the mouse seemed rightfully terrified. Only after the little bugger started trembling did Crowley finally cave.

“...One.”

The mouse moved one paw from its eye to peek at Crowley in confusion. It gave a curious tiny little squeak in question.

“One,” Crowley repeated in a growl. “You can have just one blackberry. Only one, understand?” Crowley held up one finger with his other hand to affirm the point. The mouse dropped his paws and nodded eagerly at the cat. Its feet kicked about in fervor for its promised blackberry. It squeaked at Crowley, promising he understood the terms.

“Good,” he nodded once firmly, yet still bared his teeth threateningly. “Because if I find more than one single blackberry missing, I swear that I’ll–”

“Are you talking to that cute little mouse, my dear?” Aziraphale’s voice chimed to the left of Crowley, where the angel cat was suddenly standing from behind the garden’s low wooden fence. He was smiling, and his huge fluffy tail was high and swaying behind him, seeming amused.

Crowley just stared at the angel cat’s sudden appearance for a moment, then quickly threw the mouse over his shoulder. There was the very brief sound of a startled squeak whizzing through the air, then silence.

“What mouse.”

The two cats stared at each other (Well, really it was more Crowley staring blankly at Aziraphale, and Aziraphale glancing back and forth between Crowley and the little brown mouse that was currently scarfing down berry after berry in its mouth from the bush it had landed in) in silence for another few moments before Aziraphale eventually cleared his throat and tried to begin another conversation.

“Er, hello, my dear,” Aziraphale began with a kind smile. “Are you having a good morning?”

“Uh-huh,” Crowley replied dumbly, taking in the beautiful scene of the angel cat standing with the morning sun rising behind him in the east. He blinked again, realizing his subpar answer and trying again. “I mean, yeah. Can’t complain. H-how about you, angel? What’re you doing out here on this side of town so early?”

“Oh, yes, well,” Aziraphale stammered, his cheeks turning ever so slightly more pink at the nickname “angel.” Crowley tried not to smile knowing that he was able to fluster the other cat at least a fraction of how he himself was flustered. “Madame has one of her ‘seance’ appointments this morning at the cottage, and I’ve never really fancied sticking around for them. It’s all quite a bit of ruckus, and her patrons usually are confused as to why Madame has a fluffy white cat rather than a spooky black cat that most people would expect to belong to a medium.” It was hardly half a second after he finished speaking that he realized his faux pas. “Oh! Not that black cats are necessarily spooky or frightening, my dear…” The angel cat’s hands began to wring themselves and he began to shuffle about uncomfortably. Crowley couldn’t have an uncomfortable angel, no, not on his watch.

“Nah, big spooky fan, me,” he said, waving off Aziraphale’s remark, then shrugged. “Besides, technically speaking, I’m not really a black cat.”

Aziraphale’s head tilted about 30°, the usual angle for a cat trying to aim their ears to take in information easier, and also the perfect angle for making Aziraphale look even more adorable than before. Crowley had to keep himself from wheezing at the sight.

“You’re not a black cat?” Aziraphale asked, looking befuddled.

“I mean, I look like I am on the surface, but I’m more of a calico.” He brushed his fingers through his auburn hair to illustrate. “That’s why the hair’s different than the fur, you know?” Next, he reached behind him to gather his tail and held it up a bit. “And even then the fur itself isn’t entirely black, it just seems like it is— whoa!”

Crowley didn’t even have the time to scramble backwards before Aziraphale leapt straight over the fence and landed perfectly on all fours right in front of Crowley, pushing himself towards the startled cat in an effort to get a better look at his tail. The thin tail slipped right out of Crowley’s fingers and whipped around at the sudden startling turn of events, but Aziraphale had no trouble snatching the tail up and delicately handling it so that he could inspect it closer.

“Oh, my dear, you’re right! There’s a little bit of brown and white sprinkled in! How marvelous!” Aziraphale, awed by this new discovery, did not notice Crowley’s brain attempting another hard reboot. The calico simply sat there, dumbfounded, as the angel cat gently petted and marveled at his multi-coloured tail. “A male calico with slit pupils? How incredibly rare! Oh, look at you, you’re just a marvel!” There was now a soft, high-pitched whistling noise coming from Crowley, not unlike a tea kettle. He was sure that if Aziraphale continued praising him like this, he’d never recover.

A few meters away, the backdoor of the cottage swung open.

“Crowley? I— Oh! Hey, Aziraphale!” Anathema gave a wave to him as she leaned out the door. Aziraphale turned to see her, suddenly dropping Crowley’s tail back in the calico’s lap and sheepishly getting back onto his two feet.

“Oh, Anathema, hello! Um, sorry to bother, I just wanted to stop by to say hello.” His face was a little flushed after being caught nearly sitting in Crowley’s lap. Luckily this gave Crowley the few extra seconds he needed to get his mind back online.

“No worries, Aziraphale.” She turned to Crowley who hadn’t even bothered looking away from Aziraphale. “Crowley, I was going to let you know that I’ll be heading into the city for the day to talk to Newt.” She smiled and looked back at Aziraphale. “You two are more than welcome to the cottage while I’m out.”

“Oh, how kind of you, my dear, thank you,” Aziraphale said, his hands now back to wringing and his ears pinned back shyly.

“Muh-huh…” Crowley mumbled, still not entirely back yet.

“All right, then. See you guys later!” Anathema closed the door and left the two cats to their own devices. As soon as Anathema turned and left, Aziraphale crouched down by Crowley and peered at him cautiously.

“I’m so sorry, my dear! I didn’t hurt you when I jumped over here, did I? Did I handle your tail too roughly?”

The rest of Crowley’s scattered brain finally came back to him after seeing the genuine worry on his angel’s face. “No, no, I’m all right, angel! I’m okay, I just didn’t expect it.”

“Then I’m sorry to have frightened you, my dear. You really are a marvel, though. I suppose I just couldn’t help myself.”

Crowley reached up to gently take one of Aziraphale’s hands in his if just to stop them from being wrung raw.

“How about this? You can marvel at me all you want as long as I get to do the same to you.” He added his devilish smirk to top it off. Seeing his sweet angel blush was more than worth it.

“Well,” Aziraphale huffed primly, though the colour of his cheeks told Crowley that he was quite fond of the idea. “I suppose it’s only fair after all.”

“Yep. Only fair.” With a bit of help from the angel cat, Crowley was up on his feet. “In the meantime, perhaps you’d like to come in, angel? Perhaps for a cup of tea and a squeezy treat?”

Aziraphale’s emerald eyes widened and his face lit up at the mention of a squeezy treat. Crowley also wasn’t sure if the angel’s wiggling hips meant he was excited or that Crowley would be pounced on again. Honestly, Crowley would be happy with either.

“Oh, that does sound lovely!”

“Then let’s go inside, angel. I’m sure we’ve got some biscuits somewhere as well.”

And Crowley led Aziraphale into the cottage, leaving the autumn chill of the garden behind… along with a very happy, very well-fed mouse whose face and paws were absolutely covered in blackberry juice.

***

Soon enough the two felines were comfortably tucked away in the living area of Jasmine Cottage. Crowley had meticulously prepared Aziraphale’s tea after asking about his preferences for milk and sugar, then watched rapturously as Aziraphale’s face lit up at the tray of tea, biscuits, and squeezy treats presented to him. Crowley had already enjoyed nearly ten minutes of Aziraphale’s happy supping when Aziraphale finally paused between bites of Jammie Dodgers to give the air a little sniff.

“This room doesn’t smell like you as much as I thought it would. Is this not the room you use as a den?” He peered around the room as if trying to decipher which of the materials in the room were specifically Crowley’s.

“Er, nah, it’s not a den. I just hang out here for the TV, really.” He gestured vaguely to the nice flat screen that Anathema had mounted on the wall. “I have a few streaming services on my phone, so I spend most of my time here or in the guest bedroom.”

“Oh, so the bedroom is where your den is? I suppose that makes more sense now that I think about it.” Aziraphale looked down sheepishly at the cup of tea in his hands, but Crowley could not for the life of him think why.

“Not really, I don’t, ah, have a den here, or anywhere, really.” He shrugged nonchalantly.

“Oh, no?” Aziraphale was giving him a confused look. “As far as I’m aware, most cats usually set up a den where they’re most comfortable. So you don’t have a den here nor at the shelter?”

“Nah…” He waved the notion off, not yet willing to tell Aziraphale that there wasn’t really any place where he felt truly comfortable. Dens were something cats made in the places they called home, and Crowley had never known such a place. “I’m only here for a couple of weeks, and the shelter is full of kittens who like to knock things over and don’t really know the meaning of personal space, so…” He trailed off, hoping that his lacklustre explanation would suffice.

“Oh, right.” Aziraphale’s ears flattened on his head for a moment as he went back to staring into his tea. Crowley wasn’t sure of what to think of that. Maybe Tracy had taught him how to read tea leaves like Anathema tried to do with his whenever he drank tea. Eventually, after a few contemplative swishes of Aziraphale’s tail (that Crowley definitely hadn’t been staring at for a while now), the angel cat looked back up at him with a bit of a pinched smile. “Perhaps there’s something on that newfangled television set that you’d like to show me?”

Now this, Crowley could work with.

“So,” he began, eager to impress his mate (his wot???) with this random trivial knowledge. “You know the mastermind behind the 1810 Clerkenwell Diamond Robbery, right?”

“Erm…” Aziraphale was now looking at Crowley like he had two heads. “No, I don’t think I’m familiar with their work…?”

“Really? Because she wrote some very popular books I thought you would’ve heard of.” He fished his phone out of one of his incredibly small pockets to try and pull something up on the Amazon Prime app.

“Oh? Who was she? What did she write?” Aziraphale, to Crowley’s silent delight, was now leaning forward with great interest now that he brought books into the mix.

“Novels, apparently. And movies! Or maybe they were turned into movies?” He continued to tap at his phone, but for the life of him couldn’t remember the title of the damned movie he was trying to find, and the guesses he was putting in weren’t getting any results.

“Right, yes, but what were the novels she wrote?”

“I think it was something like…” Crowley paused in his fruitless typing to try and think of the title he saw when he was going down that long Reddit thread about master spies. “Primed Pear Juice…? Her name was Austin or something–”

“Jane Austen’s Prime and Prejudice?” Aziraphale nearly shouted, sounding aghast and exasperated for some reason.

“Yeah, yeah, tha’s what I said, didn’t I?” He quickly typed in ‘Pride and’ before the rest of the title thankfully popped into the recommendations.

“You most certainly did not! You said Primed Pear Ju–”

“Found it!” Crowley exclaimed, cutting the flustered angel cat off. “I think you’ll like this one.” He quickly turned on the TV and got his phone to cast the movie on it.

“I think I’d like you to explain how you thought that Jane Austen was a–” He flinched back when the TV suddenly came to life. There was suddenly a black-and-white movie playing. The film’s title flashed on the screen followed by the subtitle, ‘Based on the dramatization of Jane Auten’s novel.’

Suddenly the angel cat’s attention was fully taken by regency-dressed characters on the screen. Aziraphale’s tail, which had previously been lazily swishing back and forth, was now stood straight up at attention as the cat leaned forward, closer to the TV.

Crowley smiled at his handiwork and settled comfortably back on the couch, content to watch his angel become fully enraptured by the film.

***

The rain stung against the shallow cut by his temple. When had he even been struck there? He didn’t know; he didn’t have time to think about it.

He had to run.

He didn’t know if he was being followed, but he wasn’t going to take the chance by looking back now. He weaved through the passing humans as well as he could. He kept his ears flat on his head and his tail wrapped around his left leg to try and have it blend in with the dark fabric of his pants. If someone saw him running out here, a cat without their human… It would be bad. Someone could call animal control, and if they caught him they’d scan his collar’s tag and send him right back to–

The collar.

Crowley grappled at his throat and fumbled for the clasp on the back of his neck, but his hands were slippery from the rain (hopefully only the rain), and his hands kept slipping off of it. Desperate, he dug his finger between the collar and his neck, unleashed a claw, and tore through the expensive material. He tossed it into the nearest rubbish bin and kept running, diving into any back alley he could to stay out of sight.

He couldn’t be caught. He couldn’t.

If he were caught, it’d be all over.

He might not even make it out alive, and if he did… he would wish he wouldn’t have. Not if he was sent back to him.

The shelter couldn’t be too much further, though. Just a few more streets, maybe. He just had to dive out of this alley and into the next. If he crossed the street fast enough, no one would have time to look at him. He could do this, he just had to keep running.

He leapt out of the alley, ready to sprint across the street–

The asphalt gave out under him, and the city, the whole world, fell away. Or maybe he was the one falling away? He couldn’t tell, everything was– everything was…

Soft…?

He fell into a cloud, this much he could tell. The roaring, thunderous rainclouds above turned into beige puffs of fluff, and the thunder turned into soft, delicate purrs. Everything turned into fuzzy puffs of white, cream, and beige. There were no buildings, no busy city streets, no humans… Just soft clouds and gentle purrs. Everything was so peaceful. So calm and homely…

And everything smelt just like…

***

“Aziraphale…?” Crowley asked groggily. He was gently pulled from his dream by the sound and scent of his angel so close, but how…?

Crowley’s eyes snapped open and his heart began to race when he realized Aziraphale was lying comfortably on top of him with his head resting on Crowley’s chest.

“Oh, hello, dear.” Aziraphale lifted his head and smiled at him. “I’m so glad you’re awake. You really were having quite a bad dream��.” His hands went from being folded neatly over Crowley’s chest to pulling and wringing at each other. “You were making such pained noises, so I decided to… rest down here with you so that you wouldn’t feel alone.” The angel cat looked to the side sheepishly.

Crowley now noticed that the TV had been turned off, likely since the movie ended and his phone stopped streaming after that. How long had he been asleep? He supposed it made sense since he hadn’t gotten much sleep the previous night, but it was unusual for him to fall asleep out in the open, and even more unusual with someone else in the room with him. But Aziraphale was nice to have around, and besides the fact that they hadn’t known each other for more than a few days, Crowley felt more comfortable with Aziraphale than he’d ever felt with... Well, anyone. Perhaps it wasn’t so strange that he fell asleep near Aziraphale after all.

Though he was a little embarrassed about being caught having a nightmare, he was so stunned that Aziraphale laid with him so that he wouldn’t feel alone. Crowley had to blink away the little bits of moisture accumulating in the corners of his eyes at the thought of the gesture. It wasn’t until Aziraphale interrupted him with a question that he finally snapped out of his thoughts.

“My dear, you looked as if you were in pain… What on earth were you dreaming about that made you so upset?”

Crowley’s heart sank at the question. How was he supposed to answer that? Of course, he could come up with something other than what he actually dreamt of, but with his angel giving him that sweet, concerned look with those big stormy eyes of his… he couldn’t bear to lie to him.

Seeming to see the distress on Crowley’s face, Aziraphale folded his ears back and lowered his head the tiniest bit. “Oh dear, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to press. Of course, you don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to…”

Seeing his angel trying to make himself look smaller stirred up something strange in Crowley’s gut. He certainly wasn’t going to lie to his angel, and he definitely wasn’t going to let him continue to look all small and unsure. Besides, Aziraphale was… something to Crowley (His angel? His mate?), and he deserved to know just how broken Crowley was. That way, if the angel cat decided he did not want to associate himself with damaged goods, at least it would all be out in the open.

“No, it’s okay, angel. I, uh, I think you should know. If you want to hear about it…”

At this, Aziraphale’s eyes lit up the smallest bit, and his ears popped back up to listen.

“Of course, my dear. I’ll listen to you.” The angel cat made himself comfortable by resting his chin on his hands, eyes wide and beautiful, waiting to hear Crowley’s story.

Steeling himself to talk about the event that he’d been trying to forget for over a year now, Crowley leaned his head back against the arm of the couch and took a deep breath.

***

“About a year ago, I was adopted by a man… He was handsome, charming, and also very rich. Before he officially adopted me, he would shower me with gifts. He'd give me anything from clothes, tech, food…” Crowley looked down at his own expensive clothing, guilty about still wearing them after everything that happened.

“He gave me all the things I never had at the shelter. I thought he was the one. I thought after all these decades, I'd finally found someone who really wanted me, someone to finally be a companion to.” Here, he takes another deep breath and squeezes his eyes shut.

“The night he adopted me and brought me home… It was almost like a switch was flipped. it was like he was a completely different person. His hands were all over me, and he tried to tear my clothes off… I had to claw my way out of there. I had to break the damn window to escape.” The dampness was back in the corners of his eyes returned. He squeezed them tighter, only for a pair of silent tears to run down the sides of his face. He did his best to ignore it because if he stopped now, he’d never be able to get the rest of the story out.

I was only able to get away after I struck him, but he managed to get a few hits on me, too… I ran back to the shelter in the rain that night, and Eve patched up my injuries as best she could. His lawyer called later the next day, and he agreed to nullify the adoption as long as we didn't go public about it…

And I've been at the shelter ever since.”

***

The living room of Jasmine cottage was silent.

Crowley refused to open his eyes. He wasn’t ready to see the disgust on Aziraphale’s face. He wasn’t ready to see the angel get up with the excuse that he had somewhere else to be and disappear from Crowley’s life forever. He wasn’t ready to open his eyes and see pity in the ones looking back at him.

“Oh, my dearest… My dear brave boy…”

There were suddenly very soft hands cradling his face, so Crowley didn’t have much of a choice but to see if what he felt was truly happening. He slowly opened his eyes and saw that his angel had leaned forward on his elbows to hold Crowly’s face in his hands. Aziraphale looked concerned and sad but also the tiniest bit… proud?

“I’m so sorry that happened to you, my dear, but I’m glad you’re safe now. I really am.”

Crowley, simultaneously relieved and stunned, lifted his hands to press against the ones holding his face. Aziraphale smiled softly then gently took Crowley’s hands in his and held them, resting their entwined hands on Crowly’s chest.

“I’m sorry to press, Crowley, but… you said this person was a human?” Aziraphale looked a little bit confused, but Crowley wasn’t sure what could have confused him.

“Well, yeah. Only humans can adopt cats. Of course, he was a human.”

This only seemed to confuse the angel cat more.

“But that doesn’t make any sense!” he nearly cried out. Crowley could feel a slight tremble in the angel cat’s hands. “Humans are supposed to protect their cats! That’s the whole point! How could a human ever think of hurting a cat in their care?” Aziraphale looked devastated now. He had held himself well enough to praise and comfort Crowley, but it seemed the more he thought about it, the more upset he was getting. “That’s just not right…”

“Angel,” Crowley began softly, knowing through his many years of dealing with humans that most humans could care less about the cats in their care. Humans saw them as things to own, not as people with fluffy ears and tails. Occasionally a decent human like Eve or Anathema came along, but they must be far and few between if Crowley’s experience said anything about it. “A lot of humans are just like that. I mean, humans were the ones who took your claws.”

Aziraphale’s whole body stiffened on top of Crowley’s and a thin layer of tears began to shine in the angel cat’s eyes.

Oh fuck. Oh shit. Shitshitshitshitfuckingshit!

Crowley opened his mouth to apologize, trying and failing to come up with anything that could smooth over the angel’s metaphorical ruffled feathers.

Luckily the angel cat spoke up first before he could shove his foot further into his mouth.

“No!” He gripped Crowley’s hands tightly. “He shouldn’t have done that to you! It’s not right! You didn’t deserve that! Humans are supposed to take care of their cats! They’re supposed to protect them! You’re a good cat! You’re a wonderful cat that deserves to be protected and cared for, and I’m glad he’s not your human anymore because he doesn’t deserve you!” Aziraphale all but shouted the rest of it, voice only getting slightly louder with each sentence. By the end, he looked winded, as if it had taken everything out of him to get that out.

Crowley, too shocked to do anything but gape at the beautiful thing before him, just sat there while Aziraphale collected himself. When Aziraphale spoke again, it was much softer and calmer.

“I’m sorry for shouting at you, my dear, but thinking about someone trying to hurt you just got me all flustered…”

Crowley frankly was trying very hard to keep his body from getting overly excited about his angel losing his temper in order to defend Crowley. He could already begin to feel his face heat up (among other things).

“No worries, angel,” he paused when he noticed his own tail flailing back and forth behind Aziraphale, obviously not getting the memo that it was supposed to appear unaffected. “I don’t mind. You’re very pretty when you’re flustered.”

Flirty, yes, flirty was good! Calm, relaxed, and sassy would work here.

It was Aziraphale’s turn to have suddenly pinkening cheeks.

They were just a blushie pair of catboys.

At least most of the tension in the air was now replaced by some very soft and fuzzy feelings that were not at all befitting of a cool hip cat like Crowley… But Aziraphale smiled and rested his head back down against Crowley’s chest with his hands moving back under his cheek, so Crowley didn’t say anything to break the haze of fluff. Instead, he moved his newly freed hands to wrap gently around Aziraphale's back in a ghost of an embrace. Though he missed holding hands with him, the soft purrs emanating from the angel cat when he put his palms flat on Aziraphale's back more than made up for it.

“Crowley, dear?” Aziraphale said softly, finally breaking the silence of their… cuddle?

“Mm?”

“Do you really have to go back to the shelter? I know Tadfield doesn’t have much to offer in the way of excitement, but it’s not a bad place to live, I promise you.” Part of the angel’s voice sounded like he was pleading with Crowley, and it broke his heart that he couldn’t simply say that he would stay.

“I don’t know, angel, it’s not up to me.”

Here, Aziraphale turned his head so his chin was resting on his hands again, looking at Crowley. “What do you mean?”

“Anathema is just doing this foster agreement as a favor to one of the shelter teachers: Eve. I’m not actually sure if Anathema even wants a cat in the first place, let alone a cat like me.”

Aziraphale, looking disheartened if his lowering tail and ears folding to the side were any indication, looked away. He snuggled a little closer to Crowley.

“Oh…”

“I’ve been trying to be a good cat for her,” Crowley admitted. “But after what happened to me… I’ve just been so broken, angel. And no one wants broken goods.” He hadn’t intended on spilling these thoughts out, but he couldn’t just say nothing to Aziraphale’s disheartened face.

“I don’t think you’re broken, Crowley,” Aziraphale said with firm conviction. “And even if you are, the cracks in your frame are by far the most beautiful I’ve ever seen.”

Crowley really wished his angel would stop making him want to cry today. So, of course, he said something stupid to divert those feelings.

“So you’re saying you want to see my crack?” He cracked a mischievous smirk. “My, my, angel, how forward of you.”

The already pinkish hue the angel had was now taking on a deeper red colour.

“Crowley, you fiend!” He huffed. “There is no need to be so crass. I was just trying to be sweet and romantic!

Romantic?!?!?!

Crowley immediately sat up enough so that he could rest most of his weight on his elbows without knocking Aziraphale off of him. “Is that something that you want?” He asked way too quickly. “Romance, I mean?”

Aziraphale’s blush didn’t look like it was going down any time soon.

“Well–” He, for once, was the one to fumble his words. “I… I certainly wouldn’t be opposed to it… if you were offering it, anyway. I wouldn’t want to presume…”

“Oh, I’m offering all right!” Crowley wouldn’t let Aziraphale back out of this now that he’d spoken first. “Presume away, angel! I’ll romance you so hard, you’re going to think I’m the cat’s meow.”

A soft, plush hand was gently slapped down over his face.

“No, I’ve changed my mind. Keep your romance to yourself. That was truly terrible.” Despite the hand on his face, Crowley could tell that Aziraphale was teasing him. He gently peeled the angel’s hand off his face and over-dramatically pleaded with him.

“Aw, come on, angel, gimmie another chance!” he pouted out his lip, but it was no match for the king of pouting himself. Aziraphale other hand plopped down over Crowley’s face right where the other had been.

“Not a cat’s chance in hell, my dear.”

Oh, so he can make the cat puns, but not me? Right then. Time to break out the big guns.

Crowley once again took Aziraphale’s hand from his face, but this time he slid his hand down so that the angel cat was now holding Crowley’s cheek again. Raising a single salacious eyebrow and smirking once again at his angel, Crowley turned his face into the angel cat’s palm and pressed a delicate kiss to it. When he turned back to Aziraphale, grinning like the cat who got the cream, he saw that the angel cat was now looking more like a tomato than a cat.

“You just don’t play fair, do you, my dear?” Aziraphale said, flustered but undoubtedly happy.

“Nah,” Crowley shook his head. “Proper demon I am, angel. Maybe my cat’s chance in hell isn’t so bad after all?”

“Hm,” Aziraphale hummed primly, giving Crowley an appraising look now that his face was finally going back to its usual happy pink. “Yes, well. There might be hope for you yet, my dear.”

With this, Aziraphale tucked his hands between Crowley and the couch cushions and settled his head back down onto Crowley’s chest (after, of course, making sure to rub his whiskers against Crowley a little bit to spread his sent there. Fucking tease).

Crowley soon after wrapped his arms back around his angel and rubbed gentle circles on his back until Aziraphale’s sleepy purr came back to coerce Crowley to rest with him. They both settled comfortably into their catnap as Crowley’s final sleepy thoughts rang through his head in Aziraphale’s voice. He hoped the voice was right.

There may be hope for you yet, my dear.

OMG I just saw the ask about the catboys. I have nothing to add. I love your ineffable catboys. 🖤♥️🖤 🤍💙🤍

#this was so damn hard to write #But I'm done!#Yeet take it #fanfic be upon ye #catboy omens #ineffable catboys #hg-aneh #good omens fanfic #good omens fanfiction #good omens fanart #good omens art #Catboy Crowley #catboy au #catboy Aziraphale #Catboy Aziraphale #meow #knight writes #nik-knight

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ofoceansandtombsanew · 2 years ago

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summary: You might be the only one in your division not utterly smitten with your partner, Makima. Call it disinterest, call it being observant that her smiles never reach her eyes. Either way, you have no interest in bridging the gap between you both. But one day, an attempt is made, and it isn’t by you.

tags: pre!canon, f!reader (afab), spoilers for anime onlys, 18+ (loss of virginity, tribbing), reader owns these cats, yes i know children of the sea’s movie was not around during this time i don’t care

a/n: makima: *is a lonely character whose secret desire is that she wants something akin to family where she and the other party are equals but feels like she can’t because of her nature*. the makima x reader tag: *dom makima smut*. me: i guess if i want a piece on makima that focuses on her loneliness i’ll have to write it myself. so i did. thank you to my friend @cafedanslanuit for beta reading this for me, she was a big help!

AO3 / PART 2 / PART 3

“Good Morning.”

“Morning, Makima.” You recognized the soft voice of your partner even before you looked away from your book.

“The weather is quite nice today, isn’t it?” It was a pleasantly warm day in Tokyo.

“I’m personally more of a sweater weather girl, myself,” you disagreed good-naturedly. “I get hot too easily so I like the cold. I’m that person who drinks iced tea in winter.”

“I see.” Makima hummed. “How odd.”

With that, a silence fell over the both of you as you awaited your orders for the day. Whether or not you’d call it uncomfortable, you left up in the air. It had been a little over a month since you began working for the Tokyo Branch of the Public Safety Devil Hunters Bureau and neither you nor your partner made an attempt to bridge the gap between you both. Every odd socially obligatory small talk you’d potentially discover something new about each other.

Like today, for instance, Makima enjoyed warm weather while you preferred cool.

Riveting stuff, you thought sarcastically on your way from the bathroom when you saw a familiar brunette lurking from around a corner. “Good morning, Nanaka.” The girl jumped in surprise, looking like a child caught sneaking her hand into a jar of cookies.

“What do you think you’re doing sneaking up on people like that, [First]!” Nanaka snapped, cheeks flushed pink.

You held back a roll of your eyes, “I’m not the one drooling over Makima from a distance like a creep.”

Flustered, Nanaka fixed her posture from looming to rigid. “I’m not drooling!” She hissed adamantly. “I’m admiring! Miss Makima is one of our best devil hunters! She’ll definitely be in charge of her own division one day soon! I have no idea how you were placed to be her partner.” You shrugged, knowing your coworker wouldn’t be pleased regardless of your answer. Twas the punishment for being partnered to the woman everyone and their mom seemed to worship without hesitance.

Nanaka sighed wistfully. “You’re lucky you get to be Miss Makima’s partner.”

“I’ll be sure to remind myself I got lucky getting paired with Makima then.” You didn’t bother holding back your sarcasm. “I’ll reflect on my actions when we go on patrol.”

“You should be more respectful” Nanaka scolded, shooting you a glare for your less-than-awed perspective. “Miss Makima’s been working here longer than you and you talk to her so casually.”

You nodded in the direction of the devil hunter in question. “Hey, Makima’s the one who told me she didn’t care about keigo. Take that up with her.”

Nanaka shook her head disparagingly at you with a ‘hmph’. “I’m going to greet Miss Makima before you both go on patrol.” Her brown eyes sparkled at the sight of the red-haired devil hunter, practically skipping in her direction. “Miss Makima, good morning! I’m so sorry, I forgot to bring you that coffee you really liked!”

The blunder didn’t seem to worry Makima at all, fortunately for Nanaka, as she smiled in that rehearsed way you expected from your partner by now. “That’s no problem at all, Nanaka. Try not to forget next time, though. I look forward to your coffee each morning.”

The brown-haired member of your division giggled, pleased. “I’ll make sure to remember tomorrow.”

You’re in awe of Makima enough for the both of us, what do I need to be so reverent for? Nanaka would likely have many choice words for you if she heard your thoughts. Yet you only felt that awe decrease as you saw your associate fawning over Makima day after day when Makima barely seemed to return even a fraction of it. You eyed Makima’s face from the corner of your eye and closed it with a small huff. Not smiling again.

Makima’s smile never reached her eyes, no matter how politely she spoke or how warmly she seemingly behaved.

It was apparent to you from the first day you met her after you arrived in Tokyo as a newly hired member of the Public Safety Devil Hunters Bureau.

“[Last], this is your partner Makima. Makima, she’s new to the country but her Japanese is decent. Make sure to teach her well.”

“Of course.” Red ringed eyes looked at you soullessly. Makima was almost like a doll, her smile painted on. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, [First]. I look forward to our partnership. Be good for me, okay?”

A condescending, callous doll.

That opinion hadn’t changed in the time you worked together. Hence why you stared at Makima like she had grown a second head when, after being told of a devil by a panicking high schooler who had ditched class, she went into a restaurant and ordered a plate of chicken katsu curry.

You blinked as you watched the redhead take a seat at a booth. “Um, aren’t we going to get that devil?”

Makima smiled at you again, the same one that never reached her eyes. “Oh yes, you can get that, [First].” She said like it was obvious, ringed eyes looking you dead in the eye. “If I go now, my food will get cold.”

You felt an eye twitch in annoyance, watching as Makima brushed a stray strand of hair back into place. Do I look like Nanaka to you? You wanted to seethe but that was probably the reaction she wanted. You held back an annoyed sigh as you took deliberate steps in Makima’s direction, sitting across from her before she could say anything else.

Your eyes peered into gold flecked with lines of red before you raised a fist. “Janken. Loser has to kill the devil.”

A silence passed over the both of you, one considerably less comfortable than usual as Makima looked at you and you looked at her, unyielding. You weren’t Nanaka or any of the others part of your division that would happily swing your sword around at Makima’s request ー no, demand ー without a second thought. “Auntie, can you make me a bowl of tororo soba? Cold please!” You asked, eyes still staring into gold.

A second past, two seconds.

“Very well,” your partner finally raised her own fist, much to your satisfaction. “one round then. The loser will also have to pay for lunch.”

“I gotta warn you then, I’m a rock-paper-scissors master.” You smirked.

A smirk that only grew wider when you pulled paper to Makima’s rock.

“Looks like you’re treating me to lunch today, partner.” You wrapped your hand around her closed fist, almost marveling at how much smaller hers were in comparison to yours. “Like I said, Janken Champion right here. I don’t lose.”

You half-expected her to demand a rematch leading you to ‘tsk’ that there was no time with such a devil on the loose.

Or perhaps give you the glare of the lifetime for besting the oh-so-mighty and worshiped Makima.

Her actual reaction was much quieter, however, as she stared at your joined hands with an unreadable expression. Damn is she that upset? You removed your hand from hers, instead opting to lay your chin on your palm. “I’ll be waiting for you to come back then, Makima. I’ll try not to get too crazy with my ordering while you’re gone.”

“Go ahead and indulge yourself.” Makima insisted as she stood, throwing her coat on once more.

You thrummed your fingers lightly on the table as your partner left the restaurant. As if I’d actually push my luck that much. A small selfish part of you considered doing exactly that, picking up a menu and ordering much more than a meger bowl of cold-style soba. But it’s just not my style to piss off a ginger. You sighed to yourself quietly before calling for the waitress once more, “Auntie, can I get some iced barley tea too?”

“Of course, dear!” The elderly waitress said with her best customer service smile. “Your Japanese is quite good!”

“No no, I’m still learning something new everyday.” You negated, waving your hands. “It’s a hard language to learn.” After a few more brief exchanges, you found yourself still waiting for Makima as you sipped slowly on your iced tea. It was never as simple as killing a devil and calling it a day. There was still the report to make and waiting for the cleanup team before you could be dismissed from the scene.

Whenever she returned, Makima’s katsu curry would definitely go cold by then.

You eyed your soba that had arrived minutes prior and the curry dish beside it. The sight along with the smells was enough to make your mouth water.

Growl.

God damn it. You pointedly looked away from your bowl to the TV showcasing a baseball game, ignoring the strong smell of the curry spices. You could have cried in relief when your partner finally returned to the restaurant. “Oh you’re finally back,” you observed with composure.

Makima glanced at your soba as she took her seat. “That must have been there for a while,” she replied, observant.

“Well it isn’t like tororo soba can get any colder.” You shrugged, breaking apart your chopsticks. “Thanks for the food.”

“Thank you for the meal.”

“... the chicken katsu is soggy” Makima muttered after one bite. You snorted almost immediately, but said nothing in reply.

You could almost hear Nanaka hisses that you needed to be more respectful towards your senior or that you should have gone ahead and killed the devil instead. Yet you couldn’t find yourself feeling any regret as you saw something more than a fake smile or mild disinterest on your partner’s face. Even mild annoyance was better than her usual expressions.

Looks like I finally saw a new side to you, huh, partner. You held back another snicker.

“Oi!”

“Alô, senhor Rocha.” Hello, Mr. Rocha. You smiled tiredly as you approached the cash register. “Tudo bem?” Are you doing well?

“Tudo bem e você?” I’m well and you? The man asked as he checked your items.

“Estou bem também." I’m good too. You weren’t one to fear being alone, nor were you the type to get lonely easily. Still, the Rochas, a family of Brazilian immigrants who ran a small grocer, were a welcome part of your life in Tokyo, especially after work. “Só estou cansada.” I’m just tired.

“Oh!” You gave Mr. Rocha a curious look as you passed him the largest bill in your wallet. “I saw you earlier!” He said in accented Japanese, grinning widely as his eyes twinkled with mischief. “Com uma mulher!” With a woman! You knew exactly where this was going with that one statement. “Essa era sua namorada?” Was that your girlfriend?

“Não, não.” No, no. You shook your head with a nonchalant wave but it was too late as you saw the quickly approaching form of Mr. Rocha’s wife. The Rochas were always interested in your love life. You weren’t sure what it was “Nós-”

“O que ela parecia?” What did she look like? Mrs. Rocha looked at her husband with excitement.

“É ruiva com cabelo comprido.” She was a redhead with long hair. Mr. Rocha relayed.

Mrs. Rocha gave your shoulder a playful slap that was meant to be congratulatory. “É linda?” Is she beautiful?

You shook your head again, a mixture of exasperated yet amused. You supposed you’d indulge them for a few seconds. “É linda demais pra mim.” Too beautiful for me. You couldn’t hold back your chuckle as the older woman rolled her eyes, calling you ‘silly’ under her breath. "Nós apenas trabalhamos juntas; era uma patrulha.” We just work together; it was a patrol.

As expected, that lessened their enthusiasm drastically. “Tenha cuidado, por favor, [First].” Please be careful, [First]. The elderly woman pleaded with you as you left with your bags.

“Yes, yes.” You could barely contain your yawn. You waved farewell at the jovial couple. “Boa noite.” Good night.

Você é linda, mais que demais. Você é linda, sim… You hummed under your breath, lightly swinging your bag. You saw a new side to your devil hunting partner today. It had been a little over a month since you’d been working together and it was the first time you could confidently think something along that line.

It was like seeing a unicorn in a forest, something you’d never encounter again in your whole lifetime. Funny how unicorns are still considered fantasy when we live in a world with devils and fiends. But a rarity was a rarity. The two of you were work associates, neither of whom had displayed an interest in getting to know each other beyond what was necessary to do your job.

You doubted such a thing would ever be presented in front of you again, you yawned.

Or so you thought when you found yourself, the next day, being taken out of a morning read by the sound of something being placed on the table in front of you. You lowered your book, finding your new company to be Makima and a cup of coffee. “Good morning, [First].”

You raised an eyebrow. “Morning, Makima.” You stared at the cup then at your partner. “Did you need something?”

“It’s iced coffee.” Makima explained as if she were telling you the sky was blue.

Exasperated, you shook your head. “I know it’s iced coffee, but I mean why are you giving it to me?” Isn’t that the coffee Nanaka gets you every day? Were the unexpressed words between you.

“I’m not one for cold drinks but then I remembered you saying you enjoyed them.” Makima nudged the drink closer to you, eyes almost owlish. Is this some weird ass test? Or is she trying to get back at me because of the janken thing? “Go ahead and take it.”

From the corner of your eye, you could feel the glare of a familiar brunette. Nanaka’ll kill me if I drink that. As if she were agreeing with your sentiments, that glare felt even hotter. “Thanks but you keep it. Coffee messes with my stomach.” With a strong hint of finality, you stood up. It would be best to find a different place to read. “Let me know when they dish out orders, I’m gonna head to the bathroom.”

Odd.

“[First], give me your pen.” You found yourself side-eying your partner in displeasure the next day as the redhead held out her hand expectantly. “I have paperwork.”

No shit, we both have paperwork. “There’s a pen right in front of you.” You look pointedly at the pen that she was already using, placed neatly atop the files she was still working on.

Makima smiled as if she were expecting that answer, “mine ran out of ink.”

“The hell am I supposed to do my paperwork with if I give you my pen then?” You asked sourly, unable to keep the annoyance from your voice.

Makima placed her hand thoughtfully on her chin for a moment before picking up the pen she claimed was empty. “Would you like to use my pen in exchange?” She smiled yet it only looked mocking.

“I don’t.” Your response was clipped as you turned your head and continued working. Almost expectantly, another member in the office practically skipped over at the opportunity. “I have a pen for you to use, Miss Makima!” He all but sang.

Things came to a boiling point a few days later on patrol when the following sentence left Makima’s lips:

“[First], tell me why you decided to join the Bureau.”

You huffed in annoyance. Does this woman not understand the concept of asking people for things? Pretending you didn’t hear her, you deliberately looked off into the distance ignoring another call of your name. “Ahh, what a peaceful day it was for this patrol wouldn’t you say?”

“Tell me why you decided to join the Tokyo Branch Bureau.” Makima repeated and you rolled your eyes, knowing she couldn’t see it. “That’s an order.”

You blinked.

Twice.

Thrice.

The kettle that your irritation and anger boiled over.

With a twitch of your eye, you turned your head over your shoulder. “You know, there’s these words called ‘please’ and ‘thank you’.” You snapped, the annoyances from the week fueling your harsh tone. “Believe it or not, just telling people to do things for you isn’t how normal relationships work if you’re trying to be someone’s friend!”

Surprise, that would best describe the look on Makima’s face right now. Genuine surprise, but at what you didn’t know. Perhaps Makima was so used to getting her way that hearing you snap was something she wasn’t expecting. “If you wanna know why I joined the Bureau I don’t care, but you’re not just going to demand I tell you like that. Ask again like a normal person and I might consider it.”

You stared at gold and gold stared back at youbefore Makima finally relented.

“[First], why did you decide to join the Tokyo Branch Bureau?”

“I hated living in my home country and I wanted the free company housing in whatever place I ended up moving to.” See, was that so hard? You leaned against the railing beside you. “But I couldn’t exactly put that on my application, so the official reason is that generic stuff everyone else puts on it. I just added how I felt my abilities would be best suited for international relations.”

“England, Ireland, Brazil, Japan. Japan got back to me first, so here I am. I’m probably gonna move into my own apartment though, company housing is fine but I want my own place.” And you were sure a few of them were starting to catch on to the two cats you snuck into the building.

“That was quite a chance roll.” Makima finally commented. “What if Brazil had responded first?”

“I guess I’d be in Brazil right now then.” You looked away from your partner with a shrug, enjoying the peach and carmine sunset. You had a friend in Fortaleza, you could have roomed with her until you got a place. “I studied a few languages when I was younger because I always wanted to do work that would allow me to travel. It didn’t really matter to me where I ended up as long as it wasn’t home, so I didn’t apply to the branch in my city.”

“And you can risk your life for that reason?” Makima asked you carefully. “Is that enough for you?”

You hummed thoughtfully. A friend back home asked the same question, although it was tinged with worry in contrast to Makima’s genuine curiosity. “I’ll probably change my mind someday, but for right now, it is.”

Your anger subsided, you sighed peacefully with a smile as you looked at the Tokyo cityline. You had yet to get tired of it. It was busy and crowded, but it was yours even at the protest of your relatives who were worried you were making a mistake of gargantuan proportions. “Yep, definitely enough.” You stretched your arms. “It’s about time for the night shifters to start heading out. Should we head back to the main office?”

There was no protest to be had. “Yes, we should.”

“Makima.”

“Yes?”

“Pull rank on me like that again and I’m gonna flick your forehead.”

You received no response to what you considered a promise, not an empty threat. Whether or not Makima believed you, you didn’t know.

The sight of the Tokyo Branch building was a welcome one. Fuck cooking, I’m ordering out tonight. After your exchange a half-hour prior with Makima, you were tempted to add dessert to that order. “See you on Monday.” You waved without sparing Makima so much as a glance as two night shifters you recognized as Tsubomi and Akira brushed past you.

“Oh you’re just coming back, Miss Makima?”

“I’m glad I caught you on the way out! How was your patrol?”

“It went smoothly this time.” Came the soft reply.

In spite of yourself, you peeked over at your partner and coworkers as you turned the corner to get your things from your desk. To your lack of surprise, Makima’s usual smile was found nowhere in her eyes. What was a surprise, however, was the dimness in them.

What kind of expression was that?

A solemn dimness danced in Makima’s eyes in spite of the warmth she was surrounded by.

Lonely.

That was the feeling Makima’s eyes had given you.

You scratched the back of your head, mildly irritated at the guilt you felt. Damn it. No, no no. I just want to go home, feed my cats, and call it a day. I don’t have work tomorrow either, I can sleep in! Still, you found yourself lingering at your desk as Makima walked in now that the evening patrollers had gone on their way. I didn’t even do anything wrong, she was being a bitch!

It was only your cursed luck that while digging for your walkman, you found two coupons for okonomiyaki in your bag.

Fuck, I forgot about this. It goes bad tomorrow.

It wasn’t the grandest gift to receive after saving a person’s life, but you happily received it from a young couple whose lives you saved from a worm devil.

“When things like this happen, it’s obviously a sign from the universe,” you could hear Himeno’s voice.

Cosmic timing was a bitch, but it was a bitch you were interested in seeing through.

“Makima, wanna go to this okonomiyaki place?” You held up crumpled coupons with an air of nonchalance that you hoped seemed natural. If Makima sensed your hesitance, you couldn’t tell. You’d almost say she seemed surprised again. Not that I blame her after earlier. Not that it still wasn’t irritating. “Some people I helped out on a job a while back gave it to me and these expire tomorrow. I’ll pay this time since it’s discounted.” You added jokingly. “Feel free to say ‘no’ though since it’s a last minute offer.”

When there was no immediate response, you placed the coupons in your bag neatly. “Well, I’ll see you next week-”

“I’ll go.” Makima’s smile was small and light as she followed you out. “You just seemed angry at me before, I’m just surprised you asked me to tag along for dinner, kouhai.” A teasing lilt accompanied a mocking smile.

“You and me both, senpai.” You replied with more sarcasm than not. And there she goes, instantly making me regret this.

“Do you mind me asking why?”

“You just seemed lonely, is all.”

You didn’t notice you were walking alone until you were half way down the hall. “Makima?” You paused with a nonplussed raise of your eyebrow, looking back at where the redhead stood. She looked at you like you grew a third head, eyes shockingly wide and mouth slightly ajar. “You alright?”

Makima composed herself as if the strike of midnight broke the spell. “Yes.”

But was she? The answer to your unasked question eluded you.

“[First], mind if I drink this?” Himeno’s voice was nearly too loud in the practically empty room you sat in.

You nodded in the direction of your iced tea without taking your eyes off your paperwork. “Yeah, go ahead.”

“Damn this tastes great, what is this?!” Himeno moaned, taking a lengthy sip. You doubted there’d be anything left for you by the time she finished.

“Some fancy elderberry assam tea. Makima got it for me.” She would give you a different kind of tea every week much to Nanaka’s chagrin. It seemed Makima had taken your preferences into consideration, she hadn’t brought you coffee again since her first odd attempt to bring you a drink. You accepted it this time, however. The first time felt more like an order. These times with tea felt more like offers. Besides, like I’m turning down a bomb cup of tea.

Himeno’s blue eyes twinkled in surprise, “Makima’s getting you tea?” The disbelief in her tone was less than subtle. “I guess you two are finally starting to get along better.”

“I wouldn’t say we didn’t get along before, we worked together just fine.” You racked your brain trying to find the best explanation. ‘We just had a mutual disinterest in one another’ seemed too harsh. “We just weren’t really trying to be friends before.” Not that you could confidently say you were friends even now. Are we?

Yet even as you thought that, there was something different to your partner that you couldn’t quite place. She seemed… relaxed somehow, if that was the right way to put it.

You didn’t want to completely delude yourself into thinking you were receiving some kind of special treatment. Regardless of her relationships with your living coworkers, you didn’t know anything about Makima’s relationships with her previous partners. Still you had the distinct feeling that the woman wasn’t the type to buy tea for someone she didn’t care for. Nanaka had been working at the Bureau for nearly two years and Makima hadn’t brought her anything.

What was with the time with coffee then? You stamped your name at the end of a document. It isn’t like I need an official friendship license from her but-

A thoughtful hum from Himeno swept you away from your thoughts. “I suppose that’s good. I hope this new buddy of mine’ll bring me drinks without me asking.” The next sip had the tell-tell sign of being filled with nothing but ice. Himeno continued to act blasé and, out of respect, you did the same. You weren’t sure how many partners the devil hunter had, you only knew they never seemed to last long.

You could only wish Himeno luck that this partner assignment would be different.

“I need a vacation. Maybe up north to Hokkaido this winter, I wanna see that snow festival in Sapporo.” Himeno sighed listlessly. “I need a change of scenery from home tonight too, but I don’t wanna go to my sister’s. She’s more worried about me than usual right now.”

“Wanna crash at my place for the night then?” You had finally moved from company housing into your own apartment. Himeno had been to the company provided apartment you had once before after you’d gone drinking with some other devil hunters. Invitations for Himeno to spend the night at your place were now only applicable as long as she was sober.

“If I did that, you wouldn’t let me get any sleep, [First].” Your friend winked.

“I’d let you get a little sleep, Hime.” You winked, pointing your pen at her.

Himeno gave you a light shove and squealed jokingly. “[First]! That isn’t talk for the office.”

“You’re the one who brought it up.” You giggled in return, signing the last of your paperwork as Himeno wrapped her arms around your shoulders. “But seriously though, if you wanna avoid your sister for a night, you can crash at my place if you-”

“[First].”

The two of you jolted out the sudden calling of your name. “Jeez, Makima warn a guy first!” You groaned, sighing as your heart rate slowed. You shot your partner a dirty look but it withered when you took notice of the dead-eyed glare pointed back at you. I don’t think I’ve ever seen her look this pissed.

Makima’s eyes raised from your shoulders to your eyes. “Am I interrupting something?”

Himeno slid off your shoulders with a sheepish grin. “Morning, Makima.” She chuckled, clearly perturbed. “We were just goofing off, don’t mind us.”

Makima’s eyes drifted to you and you nodded, “I was just finishing up my paperwork and Himeno was keeping me company.”

“I see.” The corners of Makima’s lips turned upwards slightly but the rings of her eyes seemed colder than ever. “I just came to tell [First] it was time for us to head out on our patrol. Maybe you can goof off together next time.”

“Er, yeah.” You placed your paperwork, finished in the nick of time, to the side. “I’ll be right there, just give me a second.”

Himeno shot you a look that clearly read: What the hell’s wrong with her?

Girl, I don’t know. You shot back. If looks could kill would be an understatement, what happened to make Makima so upset in the first place? Even when the higher ups really had sticks up their asses, Makima never seemed phased. Nor did she ever seem particularly bothered when her weird bossy streak with you hadn’t gone her way.

What was so different about today?

Himeno waved you off when you were ready to leave, “have a good patrol.” She tossed your empty cup into a garbage bin. “I’ll go to one of those cool capsule hotels and shake things up tonight.”

With a wave of your own, you bid your friend adieu. You turned, finding Makima waiting for you expectantly. You expected her to be strolling down the hallway by now. You shared a quiet look, feeling as if you were being observed. Makima broke contact first as she finally led the way out of the building.

Now this… is an awkward silence. You pressed your lips into a line as people and cars alike passed you by. You glanced at Makima curiously, contemplating the reason for her upset. “You alright?” Your curiosity eventually won you over.

“What do you mean?” Your partner asked in response.

“You just seem…” you wondered what was the best way to put it. “Upset right now. Did something happen with the higher ups? Or is it a personal thing?”

Makima spared you a glance after a few moments of silence. “I didn’t realize you and Himeno were so close.”

That was the last thing you were expecting to come from Makima’s lips.

“I guess we’re pretty friendly. I go drinking with her and some of the others in her division sometimes.” Less than half the people from that first drinking party were still around now. “It’s a fun time if you ever go but just be careful about letting Himeno have one too many.” You always carefully stopped after two, Himeno was a bottomless pit who drank past her limits. Needless to say, you became one of the many devil hunters Himeno had drunkenly kissed.

Regardless, nothing had spoiled between you both.

You pursed your lips for a moment. “I’m not too much of a drinker. I know that work-drink culture is a big thing here in Japan, but I try not to do it too much especially if Himeno’s already been throwing it back.”

“Does she come to your home often?”

“Not particularly?” You answered truthfully. “She’s banned from coming over while drunk.” When you were still living in the company apartments, you had naively brought her over to sleep off her drinking. That night ended with her throwing up in your bathtub and falling asleep on the floor of your hallway. Never again. You shuddered. “She stops by every once and again but it’s usually me and my cats. You have any?”

“I have a few dogs.”

You gave Makima a look of appraisal. “You seem like a dog person, it makes sense.”

Compared to before, Makima’s mood seemed to shift into something more pleasant. “You seem like you would own cats.”

“Tell me about your dogs?” That simple question was what led to your discovery that Makima owned seven dogs, each named after a dessert she was fond of. You never would have pegged her for such an animal lover, nor were you sure how she always managed to keep her suits impeccably clean. Even after rolling over your clothes, you’d always find stray hairs that you missed hours after leaving your house.

When the conversation spilled into talking about your cats, you enthusiastically spared no details. Whether it was a dog, cat, fish or rabbit, you were sure any pet parent would agree coming home to them was one of the best feelings in the world. Your two were troublemakers to some extent. Bagheera would occasionally be a brat and knock over your pen if you didn’t pet him, you gave up trying to keep Tora from going onto the top of your fridge after a month of her developing the habit. You wouldn’t trade them for the world though. “You should come over and meet them some time.” You laughed at a memory of your cats sticking their paws under the door after you had the audacity to leave them behind. “If you don’t hate cats, I think you’d like them.”

Without missing a beat, Makima asked, “when can I come over?”

“You got any plans our next day off?” When her answer came back negative, you nodded in self-assurance. “Then if you got the time, swing on over to my place. We can eat or something, I haven’t had anyone over to this new place yet.”

Something about that statement made Makima’s eyes seem brighter. “I look forward to being the first.”

“I love my cats but I gotta give the disclaimer,” you remembered before you got too ahead of yourselves. “Tora can be pretty skittish when it comes to new people, so she might run off when she sees you. Her brother loves people though, so you have nothing to worry about with him.”

Makima was unperturbed by your revelation. “I’m quite good with animals.”

That was the same thing Himeno said before Tora promptly hid under your bed the rest of her first stay. But you didn’t see a reason to burst Makima’s bubble when she actually seemed excited to come over. “Alright, I’ll provide the dinner. You provide the movie.”

“What movies do you like?”

“Surprise me.” You wondered what sort of movies a person like Makima would enjoy. “Is there anything you’d like for dinner?

“Surprise me.”

And surprised she would be, you swore, when you heard the knock on your door.

“Yo, welcome to my humble abode.” You greeted playfully as you swung open the door. Makima was pretty, that was an objective fact. Knowing that still didn’t prepare you for how taken aback you’d be by the pale pink wrap dress she was wearing. For once her hair was out of its usual braid, cascading down her shoulders in a sea of red. Makima was the exact definition of lovely.

“How do I look?” Makima’s voice pulled you out of your stupor.

“You look great, I feel so underdressed.” You weren’t dressed in your lounge clothes by any means, but you definitely weren’t dressed to impress anybody. Makima doesn’t seem like the type to even own sweatpants, why am I surprised she’d wear something pretty even to just hang out with a friend? You cursed your lack of awareness, knowing it was too late to suddenly change outfits.

“I like what you’re wearing, it’s best to wear something comfortable if you’re going to be cooking.” Makima sniffed the air lightly, “did you make carbonara? Carbonara and…”she paused for a moment. “steamed vegetables?”

“Damn how can you tell?” You clapped, impressed at her accurate guesses. “I also got everything to make affogato al caffe.”

Makima seemed quite pleased with herself, “I have a uniquely good sense of smell.” She pointed a slender finger at her nose. “I look forward to the dessert, I’ve only had affogato once.” She prepared to enter your house with the greetings finished, but you held a hand up before she could take a step forward.

“Ah ah ah.” you grinned mischievously. “What’s the movie?”

The last thing you were expecting her to hold was a Pulp Fiction DVD case. “I thought it would be fun watching this one, it’s a favorite of mine.” Her expressions morphed into one of questioning. “Are you a fan of crime movies? The storytelling is non-linear too.”

“No way, I love Samuel L. Jackson, we have to watch it.” You plucked the DVD from her small hands protectively. It was a classic Samuel L. movie you had yet to watch, it was time to rip the bandaid off. You stepped to the side with a noble bow. “You pass the movie check.”

It didn’t take long for your cats to take note of your guest. Bagheera made his way as you expected, eyes round with interest. Tora, unsurprisingly, kept her distance. “Tora,” Makima kneeled, hand waiting for the younger of your two cats expectantly. Her other hand brushed Bagheera’s chin lightly. “Come here.”

“She doesn’t really...” You left your sentence unfinished as you watched in awe as Tora bound forward, rubbing her head against Makima’s hand lovingly.

“What is it?” Makima asked as if she hadn’t easily gained the affection of your most fearful cat.

“I’m just surprised,” you relayed, still finding it unreal as your calico-tabby pressed her head into Makima’s hand once more. “Tora usually isn’t the best around people, usually just runs off immediately when she realizes someone else is in the house. Her brother’s the friendly one, which… you already knew.” And yet, this time your black tom wasn’t alone in his purrs and bunts as he indulged in your partner’s attention.

Amusement glinted in Makima’s eyes. “I did mention I have a way with animals, didn’t I?”

“Well excuse me for being a naysayer.” You roll your eyes with a snort. “Tora, you turncoat. You’re both being put up in my room while we eat.”

Makima shook her head, “it’ll be fine.”

“Trust me, Tora will not let you eat in peace.”

“You’ll let us eat in peace, won’t you, girl.” Makima booped Tora’s nose lightly.

And somehow, Tora did. Dinner was pleasant, the affogato was delicious and both your cats behaved like angels as you watched Pulp Fiction on your couch. Bagheera I can understand but Tora? Is this even my cat right now? You were convinced this had to be some sort of witchcraft, but your thoughts subsided as you fell deeper into the movie.

“Look, if you wanna play blind man go walk with the shepherd,” Jules said in annoyance as you glanced at the woman beside you with a feeling of satisfaction. Bagheera laid on her lap, purring softly while Tora snoozed close by. Then your phone rang, killing the pleasant atmosphere.

“Sorry, I just need to make sure this isn’t important.” You excused yourself while Makima paused the film, walking towards the kitchen. “Hello?”

“[Firrrst].” You released an immediate sigh of exasperation when you recognized the voice, drunkenly slurred and all. “I don’t wanna have to call my sister to pick me up.”

“Oh god, Himeno, how much did you drink?!”

Himeno sounded too noble for her own good. “A lady never gets drunk, she sips.”

You pinched the bridge of your nose. “And I’m over how they killed off Morris Chestnut in Anaconda 2.” You replied sarcastically, fighting back a grin at the sound of your friend’s giggles. “Just call your sister, you dumbass. Please tell me you’re not by yourself.”

“I’m at the restaurant still.” Himeno slurred and you sighed in relief. “Can’t I come over?”

“I have,” at the burning sense of staring on your back, you looked over at your guest to see her looking back at you. Just another second. “company over. Besides, you threw up in my bathtub at my old place last time. Come over when you’re sober.”

“You gonna keep me up all night then if I do?” Himeno hiccupped.

“Proposition me when you’re not drunk out your mind, I’ll do all the stuff you heart desires with breakfast included.”

“Can you just make me breakfast now?” Himeno whined and you hoped that she

“Himeno, if you don’t get off the phone with me and call your sister to pick you up. Look, what restaurant are you staying at? I’ll send over a cab to get you-”

“No, no, I’ll call her. I just needed a pep talk.”

“Good.” You released a breath of relief. The last thing the streets of Tokyo needed was a drunk devil hunter getting picked off because a devil spotted an opportunity. “Try not to drink so much next time? I’m gonna call to make sure you actually got home with your sister just fine.”

She’s like a maelstrom, you hung up the phone. “Sorry about that.” You beamed sheepishly as you made your way back to the couch. “Friends, am I right?”

“It’s fine.” You weren’t convinced with the way Makima’s small smile adopted its usual forcedness.

“... you sure you’re alright?” You asked after neither of you pressed play on the remote.

“Don’t…” Makima cut off her sentence as quickly as it began. She pet Bagheera’s head as if her life depended on it and it crossed your mind that even someone like Makima could feel nervous. “I don’t like it when you make those sorts of jokes.” She said at last as if it were a struggle to find the right phrasing. “The ones you make with Himeno.”

“Oh- I’m so sorry.” You apologize immediately the moment you recognized the jokes that were being referenced. “I didn’t realize I was making you uncomfortable. I’ll tell Himeno too, alright?”

At the pause, you felt that wasn’t a satisfactory response. “Makima?” You waited a moment. “I can’t fix it if you don’t tell me everything that’s wrong.” You sat closer than you previously sat to the redhead. Frustrated, that was the best way to describe the look on her face with her red eyebrows furrowed lightly.

“I don’t want you to make those jokes in general with anybody.”

Pretty dress, hair down.

You felt a sense of dread wash over you in your realization. “Is this a date?” When Makima’s eyes met yours, you already knew her answer. You wished you could throw yourself off a cliff.

“When I was invited over for dinner, I assumed that’s what this would be.” Dinner, a movie and of course you made dessert.

A date with Makima, that’s what this was. If someone told you when you first met, you’d be on one with her, you’d have thought they were drunk. Now that you were in this situation, you found yourself less bothered with it than what the past you would have expected. Makima was a beautiful woman, you weren’t blind to how she garnered attention from so many people. It had always simply been her attitude for you.

But this Makima, the one who enjoyed the company of your cats and enjoyed light banterー she was a Makima you’d be interested in dating.

No, what had you bothered now was the misunderstanding entirely. Makima was on Venus and you were on a different planet entirely.

“Please don’t consider this a real date, this shouldn’t count.” You pinched your nose in embarrassment. “Look, I’m a lot better at dates when I know I’m supposed to be on one. I need a date do-over.” Your friend wouldn’t call drunk, nor would you make jokes about sleeping with them. “Give me a chance to actually impress you. I don’t do boring dinner first dates, I make sure you have a good time. We could do… billiards!”

You were relieved that Makima seemed intrigued. “What do I get when I win?”

“Ohohoho, such confidence.” You snorted, light and amused. “What makes you think you’ll win?”

A lightness rolled off Makima in waves as she partook in your banter, “I’m a billiards champion.” The smile she gave reached her eyes.

The redhead looked more beautiful to you in that moment than she ever did in your entire time knowing her.

“Well in the very, very unlikely chance you win a round against me in a round of billiards…” You folded your arms, pretending to think deeply. “You get another date with me. And when I win, because I never lose,” you smirked loosely. “I’ll take you on another date. Equivalent exchange, win-win situation.”

As it turned out, Makima was a much better billiards player than you bargained for. Still, you got a date out of it.

One date.

Two dates.

Many dates you lost count of over the months. You were each other’s best kept secret, you didn’t want to incur the wrath that would come from Makima’s fans at the office if they knew you were dating her. You were sure the Rochas would be squealing with glee whenever they learned that pretty redhead did become your girlfriend. Oh they definitely won’t let me live that down. You chuckled to yourself as you placed a dish on the drying rack. “Custard, get that out your mouth.” You eyed one of the large dogs Makima called her own, chewing something you couldn’t see.

You groaned as the hound scurried away, mysterious piece of food in tow.

“Makima!” You called out for your girlfriend who was in her room watching Children of the Sea. “Can you get your dog?” When you got no response, you sighed. Custard, however, looked pleased as whatever she was eating had been happily consumed. Great. With a shake of your head, you turned off the kitchen light and headed for your girlfriend’s room.

It was Custard’s victory this time, you ceded as you peered into your girlfriend’s room. The film was at its climax with the odd yet pulling festival of rebirth.

You didn’t understand it when you first saw the film. It had you in the first half, with its promise of an ocean-themed coming-of-age movie from the protagonists. Then it devolved into visual acid with themes you couldn’t understand. Yet you watched it again and again, trying to figure out the meaning of the movie's metaphors. Somehow you fell in love with it, you thought, as you watched a frantic Ruka swimming with no avail to Umi who dissolved into millions of galaxies feasted upon the sea life.

You couldn’t say you completely understood it beyond a vague feeling, but you loved it all the same. You found it funny how it mirrored the evolution of your relationship. You smiled to yourself, deciding to make your presence known and tell your girlfriend as much. “Need a tissue, Maki?” You teased gently.

She always cried watching this movie; you almost had a heart attack the first time. Makima didn’t look like the type to cry while watching film. She was surprisingly picky when it came to them, but when she found one she truly enjoyed, her reaction would be apparent. “Maybe Ruka’ll meet the boys in another life.” You wiped the corner of her eye, though the tears were quickly replaced with more.

“You shouldn’t tease your girlfriend when she’s crying,” you thought she’d sniffle.

“Nanaka would be upset to hear you talk to me like this,” you figured Makima would tease in return, dabbing away at her eyes with tissue.

When she did neither of those things, dimly staring into your eyes, you knit your eyebrows in concern. “Hey, what’s wrong?” You entreated anxiously.

“Make love to me. That’s an order.” Was the last thing you thought would come from your girlfriend’s lips.

“I- what? No.” The flick you gave to Makima’s forehead was soft. “I’m not gonna have sex with you when you’re crying, you dummy.” Your words were soft despite your gruff choice in words. Makima was a virgin, much to your surprise when she told you. Popular as she was, you figured that she would have been with someone. “I’m waiting for the right person. I didn’t want something meaningless for the first time, I want it to be intimate.” She explained and you left it at that, saying that you’d take things at her pace. “We’re not doing anything when you’re upset.” You looked at your hands aimlessly before turning off the TV and closing the door.

You counted to three, inhaling and exhaling briefly.

When you came back to her bed, you brushed away your girlfriend’s tears again before pulling her into your chest and lying on your side. You licked your lips nervously. “Listen I… I’m not the best when it comes to talking about emotions. I suck ass at comforting people. But I’m here for you, Makima. Whatever it is, I can accept it. You don’t have to tell me now but whenever you’re ready, you can throw it at me. I’ll be here.”

You didn’t ask what was wrong again.

Not while Makima’s small hands clutched the front of your shirt tightly.

Not as you rubbed Makima’s back in soft caresses, hoping it would calm her down.

“I like dating you,” Makima murmured into your shirt when she was able. “I want things to stay like this. I want things to be equal.” Where on earth was this coming from?

“I like dating you too,” you reassured, not wanting to stoke the flames of her insecurities. “I like what we have going on. Is there a reason you feel like things are unequal?” You tried searching for moments in your relationship as lovers that might have made her feel like the dedication and commitment wasn’t even. You stroked the back of her head, fingers lingering on the silky feeling of her hair. “If I made you feel like I wasn’t in this with you, I’m sorry. I just need to know where I messed up and how I can be better.”

“What if I was a devil?” The room felt too quiet with that question and you paused your ministrations.

“What kind of devil are we talking about?” You murmured as Makima gripped the front of your shirt tighter and you tightened your hold in return. “A Spider Devil? Cat Devil? A Who-Cares-What Devil?”

“Control Devil.”

You inhaled deeply before releasing your breath. The adoration from your coworkers, Tora’s abnormal behavior. Nothing came as a surprise in the moment. “I could live with that.”

“I’d always have devil tendencies.”

You whispered, “I can deal with that.”

“I might try ordering you.” Makima didn’t fight back as you peeled the fingers of her hand from your shirt.

“You can try that. I’ve denied plenty of your orders before, I’ll do it again.” You kissed her palm lightly before kissing her fingers. “I think I told you before I’d flick your forehead if you tried pulling some nonsense on me. I can’t say things would always be easy.” No, you definitely weren’t naive enough to believe that. Love was a choice. Parents chose to love their children even when they were being irredeemable brats. Couples chose to stay together during the hard times. This was simply another version of that. A big version.

This was a secret that could never be spilled. You were sure if your parents knew what would come of you becoming a devil hunter, they would have hid your passport. You weren’t even sure what introducing Makima to your family would look like even before her revelation.

And yet, and yet.

“But I wouldn’t leave you for being a devil.” You vowed simply. “You’re Makima either way and that’s who I want to be with for the foreseeable future. Some hiccups aside, I think what we have is pretty damn equal. You can’t dominate the indomitable.”

The two of you laid down in silence before Makima spoke quietly, “I can’t make equal relationships with people as the Control Devil.”

“You made one with me.” The calm Makima unraveled with your words and her body racked against yours. You simply held her throughout it, wondering about the life Makima had before this.

Who else knew about Makima’s true identity?

Why was a devil being employed to kill other devils?

How long had Makima been alone in this situation to become the detached individual you first became acquainted with?

Despite the many thoughts swimming in your head, you still felt resolutely the same. Had you been given the chance to go back in time, you’d have pursued the same path once more. You woke up the next morning feeling the same way as the morning sunlight disturbed your slumber.

“You asleep?” You ran your fingers through her hair softly.

“I’m awake.” Eyes still closed, Makima hugged you tighter. Even without seeing her face, you could tell she was smiling. One with warmth that reached her voice. “I’m just listening.”

You couldn’t hold back a smile yourself. “I didn’t take you for the sappy type.”

Makima raised her head. “I think you were the sappy one last night.” Her eyes were a bit pink from her crying, but she looked otherwise pleased.

She was stunning.

You placed a hand on her cheek, brushing away a stray hair with your thumb. “You’re beautiful when you smile. When you actually smile. I could always tell you were faking before.” Makima’s eyes closed but her smile remained as she leaned into your palm, one of her own hands cupping the one holding her. “Can I kiss you?”

“Will you make a contract with me?” Makima opened her eyes with a question. With her true identity exposed, you could see why her eyes were ringed. There was something pulling about them, like a hypno wheel meant to hypnotize unsuspecting volunteers of a hypnotist. Fitting for the Control Devil. You wondered what it was that made you so resistant to them when the majority of your coworkers couldn’t stop fawning over Makima the moment they laid eyes on her.

“What’s the contract you have in mind?

“I won’t use my power on you, in exchange, we have to stay together forever. We’ll eat a lot together, sleep together, and live a happy life together.”

A lifelong contractー the contract of a lifetime. There would be no outs after you agreed to it, if you agreed to it.

There was no doubt in your mind however, as Makima held her heart on a silver platter. You, the member of your family who became a devil hunter just to have an excuse to leave your home country.

“That sounds like a good contract to me.” You pressed your lips firmly against hers. Makima wrapped her arms around your shoulders with equal vigor. Her lips spread easily at the gentle slide of your tongue on her bottom lip and warmth pooled in your stomach as your kissing continued.

Wordlessly, you looked down at her and she wordlessly gave you her answer. The Control Devil relinquishing control; there had to be nothing scarier to her. But she still trusted you; that made your heart swell with love and adoration.

You peppered her breasts with wet kisses as you unbuttoned her shirt, a hand trailing down to lift her skirt and slip off her undergarments. Makima exhaled deeply as your fingers faintly touched her folds. You kept up this teasing until Makima pressed her legs together to prevent your hand from moving. She’s so wet.

“It’s not fair that you’re still in all your clothes.” She breathed, breath ghosting your lips. You chuckled quietly, kissing her as an apology before slipping off your clothes.

You moaned in unison as your clits rubbed together. It was the morning and you were staving off the last of your sleep, tribbing felt like it would be the best move to go with. All you wanted that morning was to feel Makima against you and even then as you felt her sex against yours, it wasn’t close enough.

Damn, I wish I had the strap. The day you could finally use it on her couldn’t come soon enough you thought as you ground your core against hers. Makima would be beautiful taking it, just as she was now, head thrown back in pleasure. You wanted to tease her, bringing the Control Devil to the precipice of pleasure before denying her release. You wanted to spoil her and give everything she wanted until society collapsed in on itself.

Makima’s hips bucked underneath you, moaning and mewling softly. You wanted to see her when she came. You circled her clit as you thrust yourselves against one another, chasing Makima’s release.

With a shudder, Makima came with your name on her lips and you tumbled over the edge with her after a few more thrusts.

Euphoria. That was what Makima was in as you kissed her cheeks and forehead, whispering sweet things in her ear. Pure, unadulterated euphoria. “You were so good for me.” You praised her. “I love you.”

Love.

Love she wouldn’t need her powers for.

Love based on equity.

Not the cheap imitations she received from Nanaka, Tsubomi and Akira. Nor the cold callous from the government officials that raised her. This was agapé. The love she saw in movies and novels.

You would stay together forever. You would eat a lot together, sleep together and live a long life together. That was the contract you agreed to.

“I love you, [First].” Makima held you closely as she came down from her high.

She loved you and you loved her.

Nothing could come between you both.

You smiled lazily as Makima regained her composure. “The next time we get time off, we should go on a vacation together.”

“Yes,” Makima smiled in return. “we should. A long vacation, just the two of us.”

It didn’t matter where, you just needed to be together. Nothing could be allowed to come between this bond. Not work, nor death. She’d follow you from this life to the next.

This was your contract.

Makima crossed her arms behind her back as she stared down the higher ups of the Tokyo Branch Bureau made with plastic and false pleasantries.

“You’ll let me leave the Public Safety Bureau with a large severance pay. That’s an order.”

#look she's writing #chainsaw man x reader #csm x reader #makima x reader #kinktober #ish #makima smut #kinktober 2022

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hikari-kaitou · 3 years ago

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Capcom's Official AA Fanclub Surveys - DGS Edition

Many Western fans may be familiar with the Turnabout 4koma comics that get posted on the official AA fanclub site that Capcom runs, thanks to some lovely fans on tumblr and elsewhere who have shared their translations. What fewer people seem to know about is the character surveys.

Back in the old days, they used to hold a survey on Capcom's official AA fansite every few months where they'd write about the seasonal activities of a handful of characters and ask fans to vote for the funniest/most pleasant/strangest/etc answer.

They stopped doing them in like... 2016? 2017? The original text is lost for good as far as I can tell. Even the wayback machine couldn't help because the content was password locked and you can't get past the password wall while remaining in the archived version.

Fortunately, I saved some of my translations of them so I thought I’d share them.

Cut for length...

"February has begun, and the DGS cast is nearing the end of their journey aboard the RFS Alacrei. Which of them acted the most strangely?"

Ryuunosuke ~ Exhausted from his intensive study session, he decided to try some katana swinging practice as a change of pace and to combat his recent lack of exercise. But because he wasn't used to handling the katana, he swung it too hard and it went flying out of his hands and got stuck in the wall right next to Sherlock, who had just entered the room. Sherlock asked him, "aren't you supposed to be studying right now, Mr. Naruhodo?" and handcuffed him to his desk.

Susato- worked on developing a curriculum for Ryuunosuke. 'If we keep going at this pace, he won't be able to learn it all in time... It'll be hard on Naruhodo-sama, but we'll have to work hard through a couple of nights together.' With that thought, she created a harsh study schedule, and almost seemed to be looking forward to it for some reason.

Sherlock- Driven by excitement over the thought of returning to England after a long absence, he went up on deck to stare at the ocean. Being February, it was very cold out there and he ended up being chilled all the way to the tips of his fingers. He returned to the ship cabins and amused himself by putting his frozen hands on Ryuunosuke, who was stuck in his room studying.

Van Zieks- Upon hearing from Vortex that there was a Japanese exchange student coming to England to study law, he smashed a Lord's Bottle. He apparently also didn't care for the fact that that Japanese student wouldn't be alone, because he proceeded to shatter his chalice, too.

Hosonaga- in order to provide a respite from studying, he provided some hot chocolate. They enjoyed a pleasant tea time, marveling over how sweet and delicious the drink was until Sherlock piped up with some unnecessary trivia: 'Actually folks, chocolate has long been used in Europe as an aphrodisiac!' Everyone promptly spat it out."

"The long winter is nearly over and spring is on it's way, putting the DGS cast members in a celebratory mood. Who found the best way of enjoying spring?"

Ryuunosuke: the Yuumei University faculty members were holding a flower viewing event, and he joined the assistance committee. He exhausted himself keeping the blankets clean so the intense shower of flower petals wouldn't pile up too high on them, delivering sake and snacks, and mediating whatever pointless fights arose. To top it all off, for some reason his compensation was only a single piece of leftover candy. Talk about a sad result!

Susato- her father and the others living in his dormitory were holding the flower viewing event, so she got up early to prepare the bentos. But her father carelessly forgot to tell her that they wanted tea cakes, so she had to go around the house and neighborhood collecting sweets. For some reason, she ended up being able to gather caramels, biscuits, candy sticks, basically everything but tea cakes, for the tea ceremony.

Sherlock- he disguised himself as a beat officer and infiltrated Scotland Yard to have some fun. There was a real beat officer napping on his feet in the spring sunshine, and while observing him, Sherlock ended up falling asleep too. Detective Gregson gave them a good scolding when he found them, but then Sherlock revealed his true identity with a "hey, it's me, folks!" "What the blazes do you think you're doing?!" Gregson shouted, his rage growing even more, and Sherlock ended up making a run for it.

Van Zieks- went to the vineyard to oversee the production of the contents of his Lord's Bottle. As he viewed the still unopened grape blossom buds, he thought about how they would someday grow up to fill his Lord's Bottle, and ended up going around to look at each one. But the farm hands couldn't stop wondering whether the bottle itself or its owner's heel might come flying at them and were quite uneasy.

Asougi: exhausted himself running around since early morning helping with the professors' flower viewing event. When it was over, he took a break, sharing his reward candy stick [the name of the candy literally translates to 1,000 year candy] with Ryuunosuke, who had also been helping out.

"I wonder if the candy's effect is halved if you share it with someone."

"That still gives us 500 years."

They laughed and enjoyed looking at the flowers until dark. Then they parted ways with a handshake and a "see you later, best friend."

(This one was something about celebrating New Years. For some reason I didn't save the original question)

"Ryuunosuke ~ To celebrate New Years, he planned to pound mochi with everyone at the office. He somehow managed to get his hands on some mochi rice and he and Sherlock started pounding. Iris was having such fun watching them that she steamed a whole bunch more mochi rice so they could have some to share, and he and Sherlock spent the whole evening pounding mochi like crazy.

Asougi~ Because it's New Years, he went around to a bunch of shrines. When he drew his new year's fortune, he got a "horrible luck" result. "I'm not worried about it," he claimed, and headed up to the mountains early on New Years morning and work hard on a full training course of purification by water, meditation under a waterfall and wooden sword practice. It seems that he was working really hard to clear his mind of all earthly thoughts

Sherlock- Agreed to help Ryuunosuke pound mochi. As Ryuunosuke was flipping the mochi over, he carelessly dropped his badge into the bowl and Sherlock mixed it in without noticing, so they had to crack open both the hard and soft mochi to look for it. Fortunately they found it in the 4th one they checked, but apparently Sherlock got his hands and face covered in sticky white mochi in the process.

Susato- Wore a furisode and went with her father to do the first shrine visit of the year. The shrine was incredibly crowded and they had to wait in line for a long time, but she brought the Encyclopaedia of British Law and a copy of the Strand Magazine in her sleeves to secretly read as they waited so she actually ended up enjoying the wait.

Van Zieks- Ryuunosuke cheerfully gave him some mochi as a New Year’s (which at that time was celebrated at the same time as the Chinese New Year) gift, which he accepted confusedly, wondering “...Can the Japanese not even keep track of when the New Year is?” Because Ryuunosuke referred to it as a rice cake, he tried to eat it like a regular cake without softening it with heat first. It was so hard that he couldn’t imagine how it could possibly be food, and ended up misunderstanding the Japanese even more!

"Autumn has arrived, and the weather is starting to cool off, which means that everyone is becoming more active. Which character chose the most pleasant autumn activity to keep busy with?"

Iris was making bread but her hands are small and it’s difficult for her to knead the dough, so she asked for Ryuunosuke’s help. She wanted to make enough to hand out to Gina and all the other homeless children in the East End, so she made a massive amount and Ryuunosuke was stuck kneading this massive mountain of bread dough all day. Apparently he became such a expert at kneading that he could be a baker now.

Asougi was practicing with his sword, slicing autumn-colored ginko leaves as they fell from the tree. He cut so many leaves, though, that he ended up making a big mess on the ground, the number of fallen leaves now having increased, and it took him a long time to clean it all up.

Sherlock: Ryuunosuke told him that he was making anpan (bread filled with sweet red bean paste, the bane of my Asian-dwelling existance) and asked Sherlock to help by being in charge of getting the poppy seeds they’d need to sprinkle on top, so Sherlock went out and gathered a ton of poppy seeds. In fact, he got so many of them that no one knew what to do with them all cuz they had a huge amount of leftovers. Sherlock said, “Well, they’re only the size of poppy seeds! Surely you two can deal with them somehow! Ahahaha!” and Iris scolded him.

(I couldn’t capture it in English, but Sherlock’s line contained a pun, and a pretty stupid one at that, so that’s part of why he got scolded)

It’s grape harvesting season, so Van Zieks commutes to the winery regularly to direct the production of the contents for his “Lord’s Bottle.” He demands perfection in everything from the selection of the grapes to the way they’re squeezed, and the winery staff is terrified by the “grim reaper’s” gaze and heel swinging (i.e. the leg thing he does in court) so they grumble as they work.

"Hearing that there’s a holiday in the West called Halloween, the people involved with the court in Japan decided to try it out themselves. Naturally Halloween is a big deal in England as well. So, which member of the DGS cast had the best celebration?"

Team Ryuunosuke and Asougi- Asougi got Naruhodo up on his shoulders and they draped a white sheet over themselves to make a ghost costume. They went out like that, but Naruhodo had such exaggerated reactions to the fear of the people who saw them and to bumping his head on tree branches that they ended up losing their balance and falling on top of each other?!

Sherlock Holmes- went wearing a horse’s head mask. Iris used her skills to make it a fancy horse covered in stars, but the eye holes weren’t well made and he had to wander around blindly. Because of that he tripped hard over a pile of coal! He ended up getting so dirty that the stars on his costume were covered up!

Van Zieks- took inspiration from his nickname and dressed up as the grim reaper. He covered himself up with a skeleton mask and hood figuring no one would know it was him. Unfortunately he got angry when he saw Megundal (McGilded) pass by and started throwing bottles and glasses and ended up giving himself away.

"November has arrived, and autumn is nearing its end. However, the DGS cast is still keeping busy, even on their days off. Which character chose the most interesting way to spend their late autumn day?"

Ryuunosuke- Thinking that he’d better learn more about British culture if he was going to be a defense attorney in Britain, he went down to the East End with Gina for a little observation. However, because an Asian like him stood out so much, he got mobbed by the other children. On top of it all, his arm band got stolen from him and he had to send a replacement request to Yumei University on the other side of the ocean.

Asougi- He went for a meal at La Quantas. The customer at a nearby table got a persimmon for dessert and scarfed it down, saying “Mm! This is it! This sweetness makes it worthy of being called a treasure among foods!” Asougi tried to comment on this by saying, “The customer at that table sure is enjoying his pershim--gak!” but he may or may not have accidentally bitten his tongue in the process and been unable to finish his sentence.

Iris- She accepted Ryuunosuke’s request to learn more about British culture and prepared a bagpipe and kilt costume for him. “This outfit sure is breezy,” Ryuunosuke said shyly upon trying it on. With Ryuunosuke now dressed, he, Iris, and the others from their office headed over to Gregson’s place to get him to treat them to some fish and chips.

Sherlock- He accepted Ryuunosuke’s request to learn more about British culture and cooked up some European style curry for dinner. Thanks to the fact that his secret ingredient was a large amount of Chinese herbal medicine style spice, it caused some strange side effects and Ryuunosuke, who’d eaten it, ended up passing out and falling over.

“Another taxing trial for Ryuunosuke has finished and now it’s December. As the year draws to a close, which character acts the strangest?”

Ryuunosuke- he was recruited to help with snow removal around Yumei University and the courthouse and he enthusiastically began his task with the help of a large shovel. He got a little carried away, though, and ended up accidentally burying his umbrella, which he’d left propped up against the side of the building, in the snow he’d just finished shoveling. He had no choice but to share Asougi’s umbrella on the way home.

Asougi- On the way home, he nods silently to Ryuunosuke’s question of whether he’d finished his travel preparations and changes the subject: “...Come to think of it, it seems that tomorrow is celebrated in the West as God’s birthday.” “I’ve heard that they eat chicken as part of the traditional celebration. Wanna try it?” Ryuunosuke asks invitingly. Asougi is strongly opposed to that particular menu item, however, and they end up going out for their usual beef stew that night instead.

Susato- in addition to her year-end travel preparations, she also was busy with straightening up the book room in her home. She managed to get the law books in order when she suddenly stumbled upon some old issues of Strand Magazine! She hurried through the rest of her cleaning, then began flipping through the magazines she’d found, trying to decide which to take with her on her trip. She accidentally lost herself in her reading and didn’t realize it until it was already the middle of the night.

Sherlock- he was in the middle of a long ship voyage when Christmas night came. His mind on his partner in a far-off country, he made a toast alone on deck, when suddenly the crew began shooting off fireworks with a cry of “Merry Christmas!” Sherlock had to dart back and forth across the deck to prevent the fireworks from hitting him and setting off the explosive chemicals he carries with him.

Main series edition

#dai gyakuten saiban #tgaa #naruhodo ryuunosuke #asougi kazuma #mikotoba susato #dgs sherlock holmes #hosonaga satoru #barok van zieks #iris watson #gina lestrade #translations #official content #my translation #mikotoba yuujin #ryunosuke naruhodo #kazuma asogi #susato mikotoba #iris wilson

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beccascribbles · 4 years ago

Note

can you please do an omegaverse fic with inarizaki having an omega manager that goes into heat during a game and she tries to leave but some guys from another team stop her and harass her but the bois pull up and protect her <3

a/n - right, just a warning, i’m a big atsumu simp and this became abundantly clear to me when i was writing this... it’s less inarizaki and more miya twins (with the addition of kita). whoops

warnings - harassment (unwanted touching, sexual implications)

In hindsight, leaving the house without packing heat suppressants, or at least being aware of your own condition, was reckless of you. It wasn't your fault you had woken up late and had to rush to ensure you looked presentable by the time the twins came by to collect you. Though you would have loved to make the twins late (considering it was their fault - they didn’t have to get you hooked on a new TV show and leave the call midway through the season finale), you weren’t so keen on having any of Kita’s disappointment directed towards you. Therefore, when the twins arrived, Atsumu with a wide smirk at your slightly dishevelled self, you settled on directing a swift punch to their stomachs as revenge.

“Ouch,” whined Atsumu, rubbing his stomach with a pout. “What was that for, stupid?”

“Obviously she’s pissed off that we let her stay up late,” Osamu grumbled, also rubbing his stomach, though, instead of a pout, his lips were tugged downwards in a frown. “Although I don’t see how her terrible sleep schedule is our problem.”

“Don’t get me hooked on a new show next time,” you muttered, looping an arm through Osamu’s and beginning to pull him down the road. In your other hand, you held a cool bag with some snacks for the team. The only reason you had grabbed Osamu with your free arm was to prevent him from peeking into the bag. If he had hands free to look, he had hands free to eat the food within. Atsumu was less likely to eat the food, though that didn’t stop him from unzipping the bag and peeking inside.

“Oh, tasty!” he exclaimed, zipping up the bag and making eye contact with Osamu, whose head had turned in his direction once the words left his mouth. He was clearly pleading with his twin to reveal what was in the bag. Atsumu simply stuck his tongue out. “Why don’t ya use your nose to figure it out? You always boast about having a better sense of smell than me anyway.”

“Because I do,” snapped back Osamu, quickly becoming irritated, muscles tensing as he prepared himself to leap towards his twin. Your arm tightened around his, and you shot him a look, eyes holding a warning. With care, you let your scent wind through the air around the three of you, the twin alphas calming at the subtle shift in the air.

Atsumu looped an arm over your shoulder, pulling you closer to him, the bag you were carrying bumping awkwardly against his legs in the process. This action almost caused your arm to slip from Osamu’s, but he quickly tightened his hold. Atsumu was not going to pull you away from him. Almost in sync, they both turned towards you, noses nuzzling into the crook of your neck. You let out a slightly frustrated sigh, but let them continue scenting you. After all, when they were able to do this, they were at their calmest, and you still had a long bus journey ahead of you where keeping arguments to a minimum was preferable.

When you began to approach the school gates, you pulled out of their grasp, walking ahead of them. You began to walk faster, shooting a look over your shoulder to see the pair of them watching you with confused expressions. It was when you finally broke into a sprint, hefting the bag holding the food at a weird angle, that they realised what you had in mind. Letting out a laugh, Atsumu took off after you; Osamu quickly followed. If you had managed to get a bigger head start, you might have won. However, on this occasion, both twins pulled ahead of you, darting around a bewildered Kita and launching forward to touch the bus with their fingers.

“I won!” they declared in unison, an argument breaking out between them that you tuned out in favour of focusing your attention on Kita. Aran had already walked over to the twins, grabbing them by the backs of their jackets and hauling them away. It was this sudden movement that jerked them from their argument.

“Hey,” you greeted, giving Kita a weary smile as he reached forward to take the food from you. Together, you walked towards the bus. Kita, having arrived ridiculously early, had already packed away everything that the team would need. The only thing not within the bus was most of the team, their individual athletic bags, and whatever you had brought with you. You climbed in, reaching up to place the bag on the overhang above you. Once you had finished, you turned to face Kita. “I think we’re going to win for sure. I did some research on this team and they’ve put forward a series of underwhelming performances in official games, as well as practice matches. They’re no match for Inarizaki, especially with our captain ready to step in if the second years on court get too excited or lazy.”

The latter comment was directed towards Suna, whose head poked up from behind a seat near the back of the bus. He raised his middle finger up in response before refocusing on the phone he was holding in his other hand. You yelled over at him, “Good morning to you too.”

“Whatever, y/n,” he sighed, looking up at you once again. “Just sit down somewhere, preferably a place where the two idiots can argue over who gets to sit next to you.”

You just rolled your eyes, taking the seat you were planning on claiming originally. Kita stood in the aisle, giving you a small smile. “I’m glad you’re confident we’re going to win, especially with all the practice everybody has been putting in.”

“I know,” you grinned. While continuing with the conversation, you motioned towards the seat beside you, indicating for Kita to take it. You’d rather sit next to Kita than have to deal with the twins for the journey anyway. “Everybody has been putting in so much more effort. I swear I’ve had to physically drag Atsumu out of the gym most days.”

“He just doesn’t listen,” sighed Kita, resting his head against the headrest. “I keep telling him practicing too much is bad for his health. He even got a fever because he was practicing too hard.”

“He’s stupid like that,” you shrugged, a yawn cutting through whatever you were about to say next.

“You better be talkin’ about Samu,” interrupted Atsumu, taking the seat in front of you and turning around to face you. Osamu collapsed into the seat beside him, flicking him in the forehead.

“She was obviously talking about you, dumbass,” he quipped.

Osamu turned to you for confirmation, only to see your head resting against the captain’s shoulder. He questioned, “y/n?”

“Of course she’s asleep,” laughed Atsumu, nudging Osamu with his shoulder, previous comment forgotten in favour of teasing you. “She can’t take the late nights.”

“Keep it down,” Kita said, adjusting your head so that it was rested against him more comfortably. In response, you moved closer to him, an arm sliding around his waist to hug him as you mumbled something incoherent in your sleep. A furious blush spread along his cheeks, and he ducked his head to hide from the twins. Luckily, their attention was fixed elsewhere, on a video Suna had sent to Osamu, too lazy to get up to walk down the coach to show him. Kita let out a sigh, dropping his head to rest atop of yours. He chided, not that you could hear him in your slumber, “You should really try to sleep earlier.”

It was fortunate for you that you slept for most of the journey. You missed Osamu moaning about being hungry, and then proceeding to search up pictures of food to drool over. Consequently, you also missed Atsumu hitting his twin and being scolded by Kita, something that always made you laugh. However, Suna had got up to draw on your face, which would have been an unfortunate consequence. Luckily, it was only to shuffle back to his seat sheepishly, the sight of Kita beside you a deterrent.

“You had to fall asleep on Kita,” grumbled Suna, walking along beside you as you entered the gymnasium. You trailed behind the rest of the team, your footsteps unusually sluggish. You blamed it on your late night. “Why couldn’t you have fallen asleep on Atsumu? He would’ve let me draw on your face.”

“Yeah, well, I’m glad you didn’t,” you responded, transferring the food bag to your other hand. The weight, though it wasn’t abnormally heavy, was beginning to make your arm ache. In fact, your whole body ached. Eyebrows furrowed, you continued switching the bag from hand to hand. It made no difference. You still ached.

“You look constipated,” observed Suna, though he took the food from your grip. You gave him a thankful smile, which he waved off. “I’m not being nice. I just don’t like walking beside someone with such a stupid expression on their face.”

“I didn’t ask you to walk beside me,” you snapped, crossing your arms over your chest. They still ached, even without the bag. All you wanted to do was collapse on the bench at the sidelines.

“It’s not my fault you decided to walk so slowly today,” replied Suna, glancing over at you briefly. Something about you was off, though he couldn’t quite put his finger on it. It was probably a consequence of your late night, but even when you had stayed up late before, you were never this sluggish. Usually, you walked at the front beside Kita, or with the coaches. It was rare for you to be at the back unless you wanted to annoy him, which evidently was not the case this time. “I didn’t voluntarily choose to accompany you.”

“Leave me then,” you snapped, eyes narrowing in a glare, your scent suddenly spiking. He let out a grumble, releasing some of his pheromones in the air to soothe you. Suna hated being on omega duty, one of the reasons why he was glad you usually opted to walk at the front.

“You know I can’t just leave you,” he sighed, placing a hand on the small of your back to urge you forward. “The sooner we get to the gym, the sooner you can leave me and sit on the bench.”

That caused you to perk up somewhat, which also had the effect of pulling your scent back to its’ ordinary level. Your scent may have regulated, but the ache in your body persisted, each movement making you fight back a wince. It was with gritted teeth that you sat on the bench, and pulled your clipboard towards you. Suna gave you one last assessing look before beginning to warm up.

Your gaze was unfocused as you stared down at the words you had written on the page. They swam in front of your gaze, coming apart and then joining again in dizzying confusion. As you stared, you found your mind wandering, nose twitching as you found yourself seeking out any scent that felt comforting, felt familiar. Your head snapped up from the clipboard, falling on a pile of discarded jackets. From the pile, and wafting towards you in the air, was Atsumu’s rich scent that made you recall moments where you were held in his arms and shielded from the rain, Osamu’s that brought forward memories of laughing in the kitchen and collaborating on random food creations, and Kita’s that filled you with comfort, reminding you of his quite support.

Before you could process what you were doing, you were moving towards the pile, hand clutching the first jacket you found. You buried your nose into the material, breathing in Atsumu’s scent, a soft whine escaping your lips. Your own team, too engrossed in warming up, missed the sound. It did, however, attract the attention of the team on the other side of the net.

You were unaware of the sudden, and unwanted, attention, shrugging off your jacket and pulling on Atsumu’s. You turned your head into the collar, taking in a deep breath. Though the scent satisfied you emotionally, the joy at being wrapped in Atsumu’s scent, caused you to release your own pheromones, made you feel slightly dizzy. A sudden spiking heat rushed through you, and a quiet ‘shit’ slipped from your lips. Hurriedly, you began to head towards the exit, keeping your head ducked and trying desperately to stop sending pulse after pulse of pheromones into the gym. You figured that, once you were safely in the confines of the bus, you could send a message to one of the coaches, apologising for having to leave and explaining that your heat had suddenly started.

A large hand wrapped around your wrist, causing you to come to a jolting stop. The owner of the hand yanked you back into his chest and you let out a surprised squeak. His arm wrapped around your waist, holding you close to him as he let out a pleased hum. His nose ran along the scent gland at your neck, making you stiffen suddenly. Fear made you kick out, knocking against one of his teammates who was standing beside him.

“Get off me,” you panted, weakly thrashing in his grip, a sharp and bitter scent escaping from you. Across the gym, Atsumu and Osamu’s heads snapped in your direction. “Just want to leave. Need to leave.”

Twin growls ripped through the gym, sending shivers down the spines of many people in attendance, including the male currently holding you. All you could feel was relief. He looked over his shoulder, making eye contact with the furious twins. Their fury had caught the attention of the rest of Inarizaki, who all suddenly stood to attention.

“No need to be aggressive,” chuckled the male, though he made no move to release you. “I was just going to take care of this omega.”

“Like fuck ya are,” spat Atsumu, lunging forward and grabbing the male by the back of his shirt. His eyes were dark, expression twisted as another growl ripped from his throat.

“Get the fuck away from her,” growled Osamu, who had taken the distraction Atsumu provided to step in front of the male. The rest of his teammates had wisely backed off. One who had been about to pull Atsumu away had been stopped by Kita, his grip tight as he had pulled the man away by his shoulder. Despite the warning, the male’s arm remained around you. Despite Atsumu at his back and Osmau at his front, he had the nerve to push his nose against your scent gland and breathe you in deeply. A nervous whimper escaped your mouth, all Osamu and Atsumu needed for any last bit of restraint they had to evaporate. He muttered darkly, “I gave you a warning.”

Osamu’s hand curled around the male’s wrist, yanking it upwards harshly and twisting. His other arm went to catch you, pulling you away as Atsumu finally snapped. His arm wrapped around the male’s throat, his muscles prominent as he tightened his grip, crushing his windpipe. It was clear Osamu was frustrated too, eager to leap at the male. Yet, you were beside him, looking up at him with fear, and his first instinct was to protect you. He pulled his gaze away from the scene in front of him, scanning the gym until he finally found Kita. Kita was already walking towards you, anger prominent in the lines of his body. He took you from Osamu, letting you wrap your legs around his waist and snuggle your head into the crook of his neck as he held you. Kita left Osamu with a nod, giving permission the other man had not needed, but appreciated, to attack the male who had harassed you. He would let the coaches break it apart. Right now, you were his concern.

Kita walked from the gym, heading towards the bus. It was fortunate he was always prepared. Though he was certain you would be responsible enough to bring your own, he had packed heat suppressors in the buses emergency kit just in case. You let out a soft whine, hands curling into the material of his shirt.

“Atsumu… Osamu… Are they okay?” you questioned, needing to know. Kita let out a comforting purr, coupled with a release of soothing pheromones. The scent wafted around you, easing your racing heart, though it did little to cut through the haze of your heat.

“They’re fine,” he reassured, hand rubbing a soothing circle into your back before he placed you gently on a seat in the bus. You wrapped your arms around yourself, nose immediately pressing against the inside collar of the jacket, breathing in Atsumu’s scent deeply.

“Want the twins,” you whimpered. It was normal for you to want to be close to them. You had been with them since you were born, the three of you inseparable as soon as you were able to toddle. It was their scents that made up the majority of your nest, with the occasional addition of something Kita or Suna or another member of the team had scented.

Kita ignored your comment in favour of grabbing the heat suppressants from the bag. He turned towards you, grabbing a water bottle from where the spares were kept. Deciding it might be better for you, more peaceful and less painful, he also decided to include a sleeping pill. Kita handed them to you. “Have these. It’s heat suppressants and a sleeping pill.”

He watched as you took the medicine, carding his fingers through your hair affectionately. He gave your fingers a reassuring squeeze, “I’ll be back, along with the twins, when the match is finished.”

You nodded, barely registering his words as you let sleep overtake you.

When you woke up, strong arms were wrapped around you, holding you against a chest. You snuggled into the warmth, letting the distinct scent of Atsumu wash over you. Fingers stroked your hand softly, tracing its shape before sliding between your own. Your hand was lifted up, soft lips pressed against it before a face nuzzled into your palm. Sleepily, you looked up, blinking up at the twins. Even in your half-awake state, you could see the slight bruising that peppered their skin. Despite it being two-against-one, the male had landed a few solid hits before the coaches got involved.

“You’re awake,” cheered Atsumu, brushing a kiss to the top of your head as his fingers ran up and down your back, sliding beneath his jacket and your t-shirt to rest against your bare skin. Osamu gave a small cheer as well, a warm smile overtaking his features as he gazed down at you. That warm smile didn’t stop him from scolding you, something you were expecting from Kita and not him.

“And an idiot for not realising you were starting your heat,” he said, reaching over to give your hair an affection ruffle.

“We always know when our ruts are so you should know when your heats are,” chimed in Atsumu, ignoring the weak punch to his chest that you gave him with the hand not being held in Osamu’s.

“That’s because I always remind you,” you grumbled in response, though your anger was short-lived. The pheromones they were pumping out were so distracting any emotion but bliss was hard to feel, let alone hold onto.

“Considering how long you’ve known each other,” said Suna, deciding to add his two pence to the conversation, “I would’ve thought you two dumbasses would know what her pre-heat symptoms are.”

“You’re her friend too,” protested Atsumu, the only thing stopping him from engaging in a fall-blown argument was you in his lap. “Maybe you should have realised.”

“I did realise,” smirked Suna. In a quieter voice, he continued, “I just thought she was tired.”

“Can you all shut up?” snapped Aran, to which Kita was quick to agree, explaining that you would appreciate the peace and quiet.

That put a stop to any argument that could have broken out, both of the twins refocusing on you. Osamu resumed lazily playing with your fingers, while Atsumu nuzzled into your neck, rubbing his face against your scent gland. You let out a content sigh, finding comfort in their touch and the scents of the team wafting around you.

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writefasttalkevenfaster · 3 years ago

Text

Dancing With Our Hands Tied (Part Two)

Series: Undercover Hotch fic/series™

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x Reader

Word Count: 4,408 | Rated: T | Warnings: swearing, discussion of domestic abuse, possibly compromising positions(?), an almost kiss

Tropes: bedsharing, fake married, mutual pining

Chapter Summary: after holding hotch's hand for a few minutes, it wouldn't be a problem to hold it for most of the morning? because now the retreat gimmicks begin as the two of you search for information while dealing with the events.

A/N: sorry for the delay on part two -- had some family things going on this month <3. look out for part three :) Thank you to @bucky-of-the-opera for always letting me bounce ideas off of her and generally being amazing.

“Where do we start?”

The retreat lodge was larger than you imagined — with sprawling grounds that weren't just limited to the main lodging area where the couples stayed — but extended beyond to woods, hiking trails, and beyond. Hell, you glanced out the window at a nearby mountain, you wouldn’t be surprised if they owned a mountain as well.

“I have no idea,” you murmur, your arm intertwined with Hotch’s, as the two of you stepped into the lobby for the patented mix-and-mingle with the other couples before breakfast. Not only mind-numbing, soul-churning mingling — but with other couples with marital issues -- exactly what every vacation needs, “this place doesn’t seem big on technology — I haven’t seen a single computer or cellphone,”

“The front desk only has paper logs,” he shakes his head, “I asked about the lack of technology in the rooms. A noted policy of no tech — including the employees. I don’t think we are even allowed our cellphones after this breakfast.”

You scan the couples beginning to shuffle down now, “If there’s no tech here, where do you think they keep their guest and employee files?”

“I don’t think breakfast is ready yet, sweetheart,” he replies, as your gaze snaps to his cheeks burning, as you realize a couple approaching your six, “but I’m sure you won’t have to wait too much longer,”

“I’m right there with you,” the husband winks at you, his stomach shaking as he laughs even before he jokes, “if I don’t eat soon, I’m going to lose one of my only reasons for coming to this place,”

And something tells you it isn’t much of a joke either.

“But not the reason for coming here, isn’t that right, dear?” his wife assumedly smiles at you, icily, “Molly Chapman. It’s a pleasure to meet you, and you are?”

You introduce yourself, forcing a straight face on as you manage to say your alias, offering your hand, “This is my husband, Thomas,” as Hotch introduces himself to Molly’s husband, Harry, who claps your boss on the shoulder.

“So,” Harry leans in, almost clandestinely, “what are you two in for?”

“Harry!” Molly chastises him, but her eyes hook onto your expressions, her lips pursed in disapproval if only to hide her smile.

“Well, if it helps, me and the missus here need some help communicating,” he crosses his arms, shaking his head, “never learned much about that growing up,” and he elbows Hotch, “but I’m sure you can relate — we’re practically in the same generation,” And you nearly snort, trying and failing to hide your smile — which Hotch notes, as you see him shoot a small glare your way.

Harry and Molly don’t notice, too busy reprimanding her husband again, before she sighs, pinching at the bridge of her nose, “It’s just as well, we are all going to find out about each other’s problems anyway,”

And you furrow your brow, “I saw group therapy on the itinerary — is it mandatory?”

“It is,” Molly nods, “Dr. Rosen, the therapist who helped design the program, insisted on it — otherwise it would just be a vacation, not a couples retreat,” and she raises an eyebrow, “didn’t you read that in the paperwork when you signed up?”

“I did most of the paperwork,” Hotch intercedes, his fingers intertwining with yours, “my love here was busy wrapping up some loose ends for work so I ended up taking the lead on it,”

“Oh well now I know what’s wrong with you two,” Harry chuckles, as Molly elbows him again, half-heartedly, as he gestures to you, coffee in hand, “you wear the pants in the relationship, got that one wrapped around your finger, now don’t you? Not surprising, with the age gap and all--” as he looks you up and down, winking at Hotch, as you gape at him, “nicely done, sir.”

Your blood begins to boil, several insults picked out and fine-tuned on your tongue as you open your mouth, “Well—”

“We’re working on it,” Hotch clears his throat, jerking his head toward the now ready breakfast buffet, “Harry, it looks like—”

“Food’s on!” and he’s scurrying away to the table, as his wife follows suit, giving both of you a nod, as you glare at his retreating back.

“Food fucking saved his life,” and your eyes slide back to Hotch, as he gestures for you to head over to the breakfast table, “and so did you,”

“Well, I figured you murdering someone on our first day here would attract some unwelcome attention,” he steers you away from the direction of the Chapmans, his hand now slipping around your waist, and you do your best to ignore the flip of your heart, focusing on the fancy finger foods the retreat put out for breakfast, until you feel Hotch’s fingers drum on the small of your back, “do you see that?”

You glance at him, following his gaze until your eyes fall on a door that says ‘Employees’ Only’ around the corner, the manager slipping through the door, locking it behind him. You glance away nonchalantly, helping yourself to some mini-breakfast sandwiches and some fruit, “Do you think they keep the employee files?”

“Maybe,” he breathes in your ear, as he reaches over your shoulder to grab some food, making you shiver at the closeness, “but how do we—”

“Welcome!” a voice booms from the foyer, sweeping arms as he steps forward cutting through the dining room, “Please everyone take a seat. Help yourself to some breakfast.”

You both make your way to a table, and Hotch pulls out your chair for you, giving a small smile, as he takes his seat beside you.

“I hope you all are beginning to get to know each other, but that is not all you will be getting to know today,” he clasps his hands, he bared his teeth with his fake white smile, “I am Richard Rosen, and I will be guiding you through your time during this six-week retreat, where you are not only going to learn about our facilities, about mindfulness, and about yourselves,” his eyes scan the crowd smiling, “you’re going to learn about each other.'

Oh, how wonderful.

You had read up about this guy last night — went to Harvard — Harvard College in Indiana, and got his certification in Psychology after four weeks of surely intense training. After that, he opened his own practice in New York City, which folded after several complaints ranging from sexual harassment to fraud. Unfortunately for his clients (and fortunately for him), there wasn’t enough evidence to get his lack-luster certification yanked. He then moved from city to city, learning from his mistakes, and never stuck to the same city for long enough for someone to catch onto his treatment packaged charade. Until eventually, he settled upon White Mountains Retreat, where he was allowed to stay in one place, but with a revolving door of patients.

He was one of your suspects — no record, but had easy access to the couples, and intimate knowledge of their relationships.

"But our time will begin together tomorrow,” he beams at all of you, “Right now, I'm going to pass it over to the man who you will be coordinating your incredibly list of daily activities during your stay here — the man responsible for all the wonderful memories you will make — Mr. Brock Hillen," Rosen steps aside, welcoming Hillen to take over, and he doesn’t wait a beat, checking his watch before disappearing down a hall.

“Where’d he go?” you murmur, and Hotch shakes his head.

“I don’t know,” Hotch murmurs, lips barely moving, “but do you see that?”

And you spot cuts on Brock’s arms before he tugs the sleeve of his shirt down to cover it, “Could be consistent with causing those injuries our victims,”

And Brock Hillen was no less suspicious than Rosen — with a criminal record to match. With two charges of domestic assault, Hillen already had a history of violence with his ex-wife, but since she divorced him, he has had no other charges. Yet, because of his record, he went job to job, until he found himself as the Activities Coordinator of White Mountain. Could it be that his rage over his wife leaving him led to the murders? Maybe something in the last few weeks that triggered it.

“Hello all!” he greets, holding his arms out, his fake blonde hair nearly blinding under the bright light of the chandelier that hangs above him, “thank you Richard, for that all too kind introduction,” he begins his spheal on the healing nature of the resort, the efforts of his team in coordinating the next six weeks for them, and you begin to lose interest around his third sentence with the word “enchant” in it.

And your eyes can’t help but slide to Hotch a moment, whose arm rests on your lower back still, the metal of his watch gently pressed against your shirt, and you swear his thumb brushes against your spine. You almost want to brush it away, his touch is so gentle, so sweet, so intentional, but it wasn’t — it wasn’t.

“For our first event,” and now you’re blinking back to Brock — to the reason you were here — to catch a killer, “I’m going to have you do one of the very things that Richard mentioned — an activity that will allow you to you learn more about yourselves and each other,” and he gestures around you, “as well as the grounds themselves,” Other employees start handing the couples a clipboard, “your task will be to get each of your stamps from around the retreat — this obviously includes our grounds and other facilities, including our spa, chapel, gardens, and so on.”

“Seems like a perfect opportunity to look around,” you murmur — as Hotch takes the clipboard, flipping through the scavenger hunt -- at least there wasn’t some cheesy shtick to this activity.

“To symbolize the journey you all will be embarking on together as couples, you must complete the task hand-in-hand,” Brock brings his two hands together, “please, there will be staff all over the facilities, if you need a hint, feel free to ask, and I will be here as well to provide any assistance,” he gestures to employees behind the couples, “now, at the sound of the gong—”

At the sound of the what—

And then a loud crash fills the air, rattling your eardrums, making you jump, “Take each other’s hand, and begin!”

Couples begin scattering about, pulling each other along — you spot Molly dragging Harry away from the breakfast table.

And Hotch rises beside you, offering you his hand, clipboard in his other hand, “Ready?”

You glance from him to his hand.

Probably not, but— your fingers intertwine with his, his calloused fingers warm, and the cool metal of his band brushing against your skin—

“Ready.”

What other choice did you have?

~~~

“How many more do we have?” So far, the first few stamps have taken you all around the other facilities — the spa, the garden, the sauna — but none inside the retreat center itself. Not a single one had given you a change to find where the files were kept in this place.

“Two more left,” he murmurs, “I assume the last one will take us back into the main building, so the other must be—”

“At the chapel,” you glance at the map of the place you were handed by an employee who took pity on you two after you had wandered around the grounds — completely lost, “at least we don’t have to bother figuring out the riddles now,”

“You mean you don’t need to bother,” you shake your head, “i’m sorry, I’m just—”

“Are you okay?” he asks, as the two of you stroll towards the chapel, everyone else out of earshot, “the first day can be—”

“No, it’s not that,” you look around the grounds, and you resist the urge to flex your fingers, but he notices you tense — and you know he would drop your hand but he can’t, so he steps away a little, “It’s not you—”

“But it’s you?” he chuckles, as you bite your lip, “I know it’s a lot,” he sighs, as you two reach the chapel, a relatively small building built on top of a hill. It’s a white marble building, its one spire splitting the sky above it asunder, practically gleaming in the sunlight. The double mahogany doors are drawn open for the couples, another just leaving as you two arrive. You watch him stare up at the chapel, “it is for me too.”

You frown, as the employees at the entrance greet you, and direct you to sit near the front together for a few minutes — to take solace in the quiet before you receive your stamp. Hotch hands them the clipboard as you both wander down the aisle together.

The aisles are lined with white pews, light streaming through beautiful stained glass windows. Your footsteps echoed against the stone floor. You step and sit into the pew beside Hotch, sitting back a moment. The chapel itself had no denomination — it was clear it was made for the sake of religious and non-religious functions — likely an intentional choice not to exclude any religion or atheists for that matter.

After all, money was money in their eyes.

You two are quiet a moment, your hands still interlaced for the sake of the employees still watching the two of you, “I think for me,” your voice low, “it’s just weird to be this close with anyone,”

“You mean physically or?” you shrug.

“It’s part of it — it has been a while since I’ve shared a bed with someone,” you purse your lips, “but like you said, it’s hard for me to let someone see me, like all of me,” and you glance at him, “and it’s hard when you’re literally the leader of a team of, you know.”

“I know,” he leans against the back of the pew, “it’s impossible to hide things from the team even when when we don’t spend every minute with them, and now that we’re spending the all of the next six weeks together--”

“There won’t be much we can do to hide,” you nod, looking down at the floor.

And that was what scared you the most.

The employees hand you back the clipboard at that moment, excusing you both back, and the two of you step out of the chapel, “I just want you to know,” you say, as the two of you reach the bottom of the hill, “you don’t have to hide anything from me,” and he raises an eyebrow, as you add, “if you don’t want to.”

“Do most people hide anything because they really want to?”

“No I meant,” you chew your lip, “This is probably hard for you, and I don’t want to act like I know what you’re going through — I don’t,” you would never deign to think you knew what it was like to lose your the love of your life, your best friend, and mother of your child in one fell swoop, “but you don’t have to pretend,” not with me, you want to add, but you don’t — you can’t.

He blinks a moment, eyebrows raising only for a millisecond, before he sighs, “It’s easier to pretend,” he presses his lips together, as another couple approaches, “and that’s what we’re here to do,” and he begins to walk forward, gently pulling you along, as your cheeks burn, your head fixed on the ground, until he adds, “but I appreciate it,” and you meet his gaze, several emotions in his eyes, before he tears it away, “thank you.”

You don’t get to respond, as the two of you step inside to find only most of the couples still hadn’t returned yet — still collecting the last of the stamps, and most of the staff floating around the grounds to corral and nudge stragglers along. And their absence left an opportunity.

So you glance around, before tugging a distracted Hotch along, wandering around a corner, “What—”

And you grab him by the shoulder, pinning him to the wall, cheeks burning all the while, not daring to meet his gaze, but its just the same because you hear the small gasp of your name that leaves his lips in a whisper, and his body tenses against your palm.

You lean up closer, before slowly craning your neck around the corner, “We’re a couple at a retreat looking to sneak away,” you murmur, lips barely moving, as you lean closer, nose brushing his neck — god he smells good — but you refuse to let your lips brush against his skin, “or that’s what it will look like to anyone.”

His tenseness melts away, and he’s pliable to your touch, as your fingers graze his neck now, your thumb resting against his cheek, as he stares down at you — so adoringly as you tug him by the shirt away from the wall, following you with such ease.

You’re next to the employees only door — your fingers reach for the knob, turning — “It’s locked,” you murmur, and his brow furrows, as you cup his cheek, guiding his gaze to the lock.

And he’s spinning you around gently so that you’re pressed to the wall, your breath catching in your throat, as he looms over you, his fingers cupping your chin. His arm around your back, pulling your lower half close to him, but he’s holding the door knob in place while he tries to pick it with his other hand.

Your cheeks burn as he looks down on you, his gaze freezing you in place, far too close — his breath warming your lips, taking the breath from your lungs and replacing your blood with lava. And you can see so clearly — the cut of his jaw, the soft lines of his face, and the curve of his lips—

And then the lock clicks open.

He’s turning the knob, as you spare one glance over your shoulder to see if anyone sees either of you, but then the door is shutting behind you. You feel the wall for a light switch, and you flick it on, while you hear the click of the door locking again.

And you blink, a glorified break room — a few tables and a basic refrigerator stuck in the corner, a worn couch stuck against a wall, and a sink stuck in the corner with a subpar dish rack — far from the accolades that were in each guest’s room — but then again, the employees weren’t paying through the nose for the rooms.

You two stay close, as your eyes scan for anything that could be a camera — even one that isn’t obvious — placed in a smoke detector or lamp shade, “No cameras,” he pulls away, and you try to swallow the lump in your throat, tucking away the embarrassment to dwell on another time (likely right before when you’re trying to sleep).

But then again, the guests weren’t the ones working 18 hour shifts on their feet.

Hotch calls for you, pointing towards a few file drawers stuck in the corner, and the two of you head over, running your finger down the label on the drawers, “These are all client records — administrative, financial — nothing on the employees.”

“They must keep the employee records somewhere else that employees don’t have access to,” and you’re rifling through the folders, for something — anything.

“I haven’t seen any other employee areas,” you shut the drawers, and then you glance around, your eyes falling on another door in the corner of the room — “unless—”

“It must be Rosen and Hillen’s offices,” you walk over, reading the placard — Administration Offices, “locked?”

“This isn’t something that can be picked easily,” Hotch shakes his head, “it has a bump guard — it prevents—”

“--lock bumping,” and Hotch looks over his shoulder, raising an eyebrow, “I’ll tell you my reason if you you tell me yours,

He snorts, “I learned it sometime between 6th grade and military school,” and it’s your turn to raise your eyebrows, “my father — he—”

“You don’t have to—” you shake your head, “unless you want to—”

“I’ll just say, it wasn’t a good childhood,” he raises to his feet.

And you can’t help but give a small smile, “But look at how well you turned out,” and he’s shaking his head, shrugging his shoulders, “Hotch,” you make him meet your gaze, “you’re a good man — don’t doubt that.”

His eyes meet yours again, warm, as he looks away to the floor for a moment, the corners of his lips twitching, “Thank you,” he breathes, and he’s stepping forward, “I—”

And then the doorknob is jiggling. Your heads snap to the door, before looking back to each other.

Shit.

Before you know it, his wrist is around yours, and he’s tugging you to the couch, as you fall backwards onto the soft cushions. He’s halfway kneeling between your legs, his body draped over you, and he’s leaning closer, murmuring an apology as he lips draw close to yours, “Hotch—”

And then the door is opening, as his lips nearly brush yours, “Hey!”

An employee stares at the both of you, as you both stumble to your feet, adjusting your clothes, “This is employees only — what are you—”

“Sorry!” you yelp, jumping to your feet, “so sorry,” and you brush past them, Hotch following at your heels.

And the two of you find your way back to the lobby, your heart still in your throat, as you tug on your clothes, “Thanks for the —” your cheeks burn, “I mean, good thinking—” you shake your head, "you know what I mean."

He snorts, his fingers finding yours again, giving them a slight squeeze, "Anytime," and your heart oh-so-helpfully skips a beat, tongue-tied, but luckily you don't have to response as Hotch glances at you, "you never did tell me how you learned about lock picking."

You shrug, “I have a checkered past,”

“That’s not much of an answer,” and you shoot him a half-smile.

“I have to keep you interested somehow don’t I?” you reply right as Brock begins to speak again.

The event wraps up with another talk from Brock — who has an employee approach him towards the end of his talk, whispering in his ear, and he nods, waving him off, “and one last thing — I know you all came to rejuvenate your marriages and partnerships through this retreat and we fully encourage you to do so but—” you swallow thickly, realizing just which employee must have whispered in his ear right then, “please refrain from doing so in restricted areas that are not for our guests.”

You cannot even bear to look at Hotch, keeping your gaze straight ahead, grabbing a drink on the tray, and sipping at it — and you wondered if you were masking your mortification well.

Probably fucking not.

~~~

Brock then adjourns them for the rest of the day — not wanting to “overwhelm them” on day one (or rather padding their time here with nothingness) — welcoming them to have their meal in the dining facilities or up in the rooms.

Most people head off to their rooms, while others linger in the lobby — chatting amongst themselves — he spots Harry rushing off to the dining facilities, his wife in tow.

The rest of the day goes off without much to-do. Hotch glances around — not a single thing of note learned about the guests or the staff. The other couples are all sociable to some extent — some more reserved than others, but none of them fit the unsub’s types so far — placing you two directly in the paths of the unsub.

By the time it’s time for bed, his body is aching for nothing but sleep — and it looked like you had the same idea. Already slipped under the covers, you’re curled up, half-asleep as your eyes flutter heavy with sleep.

Neither of you felt the need to stand guard in the room — the doors were securely locked for each of the couples, and the team was monitoring the situation at the local precinct. But you both kept your weapons close by — concealed in case someone happened to find their way in.

“Are you asleep?” Hotch whispers, and you mumble, shaking your head, turning to glance at him — your shoulders tense and brow furrowed.

“Is something going on?”

And he shakes his head, “No, sorry,” and you relax back in bed, but your lips still pursed, “I just hope I didn’t make you uncomfortable earlier,” and you tilt your head — and he almost smiles at your sleep-induced confusion.

“Earlier?” and then it floods back to you — as you blink, glancing away from him, “oh—”

He shakes his head, “I just don’t want you to think I was—”

“Hotch, I know you weren’t,” you slowly sit up, “if you hadn’t done that, I think we would have been on our way home on our first day,” you chuckle, “and I know you wouldn’t take advantage — especially when we have a job to do.”

Right, a job, he chides himself, It was a job.

“If you want to sleep—”

“I’m not having this conversation again,” you yawn, turning around and getting comfortable again, “good night, Hotch.”

And he looks at you, a small sigh parting his lips — until he finally settles in bed beside you.

His arm resting across his forehead, he glances at you again. He had spent so much of today holding your hand, his fingers nearly flexing at the memory. It had been so long since he had held someone’s hand, so long since he had worn a ring on his finger, so long since he called someone his partner.

It felt so nice.

Nice — not only because he hadn’t realized how much he had missed having someone, someone beside him, someone there — but because —

Because it was you.

And he knew that because — he didn’t want to let go of your hand.

#aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner imagines #criminal minds #criminal minds imagines #hotch imagines #hotch #aaron hotchner fanfiction #hotch fanfiction #fic: undercover

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exitrowiron · 2 years ago

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Day 36: Oberlin to Newbury, OH

80 miles, 3,286ft ascent, 4:57

For the second time in three days we started the ride on wet streets, chasing a storm that had passed through hours earlier and hoping to arrive at the day’s destination before the next predicted storm in the afternoon.

Our exit from Oberlin was on several miles of freshly milled but not yet repaved asphalt; when you drive on roads like this it is noisy, riding it is a bone jarring challenge. As I was navigating this stretch of road I couldn’t help but think of the lyrics of the 38 Special song:

Just hold on loosely

But don't let go

If you cling to tightly

You're gonna lose control

This is in fact exactly how to ride rough pavement. I rode with Pat this morning, a female rider from Big Sky, MT. She is the strongest female rider and one of the strongest of all the riders on the trip. This fact is even more amazing considering she had a partial replacement of her left knee three years ago. Pat and I rode together to the first refueling stop but then separated and each of us rode solo.

Today’s ride took us on a wide arc between Cleveland and Akron. The flat terrain we’ve enjoyed the last three days has given way to gently rolling hills; today’s route was a net ascent but I didn’t mind the extra work. Wisconsin’s hills reminded me of the runaway truck exits you find on the downhill sections of Colorado interstates. These exits lead sharply uphill (and are usually paved with loose gravel) and are designed to quickly slow and stop the momentum of a run away truck. Wisconsin’s hills are like that. You grind your way to the top of a large climb, only to have your inertia robbed by a steep little hill at the bottom. This part of Ohio is more like a roller coaster. You still have to get yourself to the top of the big hill, but the subsequent rollers are small enough that you can keep some momentum and crest them.

We are close enough to Cleveland that our route wound through once rural communities which are now full of upscale subdivisions, large homes on huge lots and horse farms. Occasionally I could see an old farm house between the new mansions, but the farm fields had largely been lost to well manicured lawns. It reminded me of Wildwood, MO, but without the limestone bluffs.

The local motorists have distinguished themselves as being the least agreeable in our journey so far. Two rednecks in a pickup shouted and honked at two of our riders and then threw roofing nails on the road shoulder for a few miles. Later in the day, traffic was stopped at a construction zone waiting for the signal from the flagger to proceed; a bike group was at the front of the line. When the flagger gave the go ahead, a woman tried to zoom ahead and clipped one rider and hit another. She reluctantly pulled over at the insistence of the flagger, but was shouting and angry and refused to provide her license. The biker who was hit (one of the female Trek guides and obviously a VERY skilled rider) got some scrapes and her bike was damaged. Other riders took pictures of the license plate and this time a police report was filed. If I was Batman I would spend my time and fortune imposing justice on people who are assholes to bike riders. The good news is that we beat the rain.

Tonight we are staying at the Punderson Manor, a state lodge in Punderson Park. The bikers are obviously relieved to put this day behind us and are looking forward to sleeping late as tomorrow is a short 64 mile day.

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landinoandco · 3 years ago

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Our Love is a Game

Lando Norris x Reader

Request from @jamieeboulos

Warnings: pinch of fluff, cute ending because they are the best

Word count: 2.7 k

Requests are open :)

It all started with a phone number, an innocent exchange that would subsequently change the world you knew; mostly for the better. When you had met Lando, as far as you were concerned you had just met a 21 year old who lived in London and had a passion for cars. How wrong you were. It was only when things started to get serious that he sat you down and explained everything that came with being a formula one driver; more importantly the fandom that he was involved in.

You had always been a private person and admittedly this piece of information almost broke your relationship but after some time to think you had decided that he was worth it all. You both decided it was a better idea to keep your relationship as quiet as possible - you took every precaution to make sure you stayed a stranger to the fans.

For the past 2 years, you thought you had managed to stay clear of the cameras, the photos and the twitch streams but it wasn’t until a fan-made compilation caused your world to spiral out of control.

You and Lando were out for a run, it was a part of your morning routine - a great way to start the day and it was time that you two could escape the motor sport world and act like a normal couple without worrying about who might be watching. It was time you both valued and appreciated. On this particular morning, Lando had decided to add to his Instagram story, a short video of his morning adventures - the mist still hanging around the trees as you ran under a heavily graffitied bridge, the early birds song chirping animatedly. At the time you didn’t think much of it as you were too busy tying your hair back up to notice.

It wasn’t until you got home and looked at his story that your heart stopped, rushing over to the kitchen island you placed your phone down and ran your fingers through your hair. It was a blink and you’ll miss it moment but in the corner of his video - the last millisecond before it ended - there was a flash of a purple top (the purple top you had been wearing) and a swish of brown hair as you chucked it back up into a ponytail.

“Lando.” You called out, trying to keep your voice as calm as you could. You didn’t know why it had affected you so much - or why you were so desperate to keep your identity a secret. It wasn’t like you wanted to hide your relationship; you were the happiest you ever had been, everyday was exciting and offered new prospects - it was more that you were so used to being in this bubble with Lando, the idea of it bursting seemed rather unappealing. Usually you didn’t care for how others saw you but seeing some of the words that people used to describe him, it would be enough to trouble even the thickest of skins.

Lando’s close proximity broke your thoughts as he stared down at your phone, pausing on the flash of brown and purple. “I am so sorry, love.” He almost whispered, his eyes widening at his carelessness. He picked your phone up to take a closer look.

“It will be alright, won’t it? I mean, it’s a blink and you’ll miss it.” You had said, more to reassure yourself than Lando. He didn’t answer, anxiety building in the pit of his stomach because he knew exactly what he had started.

The fan-made compilation didn’t go viral until a few hours later - as it turns out that flash of purple was the perfect cherry on top of an unappetising cake. Lando was sat on stream - not that this was out of the ordinary and Max had decided to join him, leaving you alone to rewatch Friends for the umpteenth time.

The pair were sat reacting to videos on YouTube when a clip of a seal swimming into a shoal of fish started playing - the amusing part was that they kept quickly dispersing away from the seal in question. Unsurprisingly, they laughed and Lando spluttered: “This is me trying to find a girlfriend.” What the fans didn’t know was the apparent irony of that sentence and this was what caused the major meltdown; whilst Lando and Max were busy crying with laughter - that chat had filled up with the same link and references to the video you would be redirected through.

Max was the first to stop laughing, tapping Lando on the shoulder as he pointed at the chat. Hundreds of the same message filled the screen: “That’s not what this compilation shows.” “Lando, what are you hiding from us?” “Lando and Max laughing knowing very well he has a girlfriend.”

“Chat what on earth are you waffling on about.” Max chuckled uneasily, looking at Lando out of the corner of his eye. Lando sat with a forced smile, his nostrils flaring as he continued through the comments. He could only let out a tense laugh as he swallowed thickly - his throat feeling suddenly dry. You were still sitting, completely engrossed and unaware that Lando Norris was now trending on twitter.

Max had come up with an excuse to end the stream not long after, Lando uncharacteristically quiet. His thoughts were with you in the other room, had you seen it? Did you know? How would you react? He felt as though he had lost all control, like he had failed you entirely - all he wanted to do was protect you yet he was the one to screw it up.

“Hey,” Max nudged his shoulder, “It was bound to happen at some point. Let’s go and see if she’s seen it - if not then -” He took a deep breath, “We will watch it together. We need to know what we are working with here.” Lando nodded, unable to reply, his body went into automatic pilot mode and too quickly he was standing facing you.

Pausing the tv, you looked at Lando - his jaw tightened and facial expressions set as though he had just seen a ghost. “Is everything ok?” You asked apprehensively.

“There’s something you need to see.” Max reached for his phone, pushing Lando onto the sofa. You offered your arm to Lando, pulling him into a hug. Max pulled up the video and pressed play. A tense atmosphere held the room hostage - breath restricted and gazes fixed onto the tiny screen in front of you.

It started with a clip from this year’s Goodwood - Lando preparing to drive his last hill climb - you remembered it well, a McLaren hat placed on your head mainly to cover your identity; knowing that there would be more than a few fans around. The clip moved to 3 separate stills - all of you in your McLaren hat. One with your back to the camera, you hand placed around Lando’s waist, the other two a side profile as you spoke to Max.

The reaction was immediate, you slapped your hand to your mouth, Lando looked horror-struck and Max was watching you carefully.

The video moved on, this time a clip from the quadrant video where Niran trains like Lando for 24 hours - Lando and Niran were in the kitchen preparing to eat their breakfast when once again the video moved to stills. This time they were of your reflection in the oven - holding the camera. You had thought at the time, if you were behind the camera it would stop every chance of you accidentally being caught on camera. Apparently not.

The video had moved on again, this time to stills of Lando arriving on track - of course there was no way for you to get on track without being photographed and you were fine with that because you would just arrive after Lando either with Jon or Charlotte. Photos of you arriving with Jon and Charlotte flashed up - with them you were just another member of staff but put with those other stills and it really did yell out that you and Lando were romantically involved. Finally the flash of purple from Lando’s story. The game was up.

“Oh my-” You stuttered as the video came to an end. Fortunately your Instagram hadn’t been shown but judged by how skilled you knew the fans to be - it would only be a matter of time. “I feel sick.” You admitted, wiping your hands across your face. Lando still hadn’t said a word, staring blankly at the floor. Max was the first to come up with something logical, turning to you and Lando.

“It will blow over.” He started, “The fans will soon lose interest and move onto the next big headline. We just need to ignore anything we see regarding the subject.” He moved his attention to you. “Maybe avoid social media for a few days. Let everyone cool down -” Sensing your means to interrupt, he held his hand up. “I know you shouldn’t have to and I know none of this is fair but unfortunately people have no boundaries and believe because it’s on social media it is their business. If they were in our situation, I’m pretty sure they would be the first to complain. Let’s just go along with it for now. It will give you time to think about what to do next.”

Lando cleared his throat, pulling you closer into him. “I’ve failed you. All I wanted to do was protect you.” At this, Max got up and left.

Shaking your head, you pressed your lips to his forehead. “You could never. Think about how long we kept it secret for. Besides, until we announce or admit anything - it isn’t confirmed.” You offered, trying to soothe his worries. He nodded, still not convinced.

“Our love is like a game and it’s not a game I enjoy playing.” He croaked, lacing your fingers together.

“I know, Lando, I know. Let’s let everything calm down and then we can think about what our next step is.”

Weeks later and it was the night before you were due to leave for your summer holiday. You would be spending it with Lando and some of his friends and family. Due to the current pandemic, it had been so long since you had been away - even if it was a bigger group of you going; you were still looking forward to spending that quality time with Lando.

Max had decided to take himself and Tom off to the streaming room - leaving you and Lando to sort out the remaining items you needed for your time away.

“I have a present for you.” He said suddenly, his hands behind his back. You beamed, taking a step closer to him. He shook his head, “If you want it - “ He pointed at his lips.

Rolling your eyes, you pecked his lips then held out your hands like a child. Lando chuckled, “Close your eyes.” Hands still outstretched and eyes closed, you waited for Lando to present you with your surprise. He grasped your left wrist and attached something to it - “No peeking.” He added. A moment or two later, he dropped his hold of your wrist and said: “You can open them now.” You could hear the smile on his lips. You opened your eyes and looked straight to your wrist - he had given you a pink watch. You furrowed your eyebrows and looked up at him, his eyes twinkled as he then pointed to the orange watch on his wrist.

“Watches?” You asked, confusion laced your tone.

Nodding, he said, “We all have matching watches but in different colours - they are for our holiday away.”

You gave him a lopsided grin and wrapped your arms around his neck, “I love it. Thank you.”

In the streaming room, Max was having to ignore the majority of the comments because they were all asking the same thing: “Who was the girl from the compilation.” He was trying his hardest to keep moving off the topic, instead showing off the watches - it had been his idea, blue for him, orange for Lando, a child’s watch for Tom and a pink watch for you. He had listed off all of the colours and said who they belonged to: “And then pink-” He paused, mentally face palming. He looked over to Tom for assistance - he hadn’t meant to say pink at all. “And pink is for someone.” He cursed his poor excuse but as if by magic - Lando walked through the door.

Distracting the stream from his slip up.

Croatia was a dream come true, the hot summer sun on your back and the time to just relax and recharge. Days spent with Lando sunbathing on the boat or stuck in a tense game of Uno. Not being the only female was brilliant as well - as they got to go off and not feel guilty about leaving you on your own.

Currently, you and Lando were standing in each other's arms - the afternoon drawing into the evening as the sun began to set. You had your arms around his neck and his arms were around your waist, sighing contentedly you broke the silence: “This is nice.” He pressed his lips into your hair, a sign that he agreed with your statement. In that moment, it was just you and him - everyone seemed to disappear from around you and all worries vanished. It was the simple yet affectionate moments that had always meant the most to you. You felt as though you could relax every muscle in your body, listening to his steady heartbeat - you wished for this moment to never end, to forever be in his arms and to not worry about who sees you there.

Ever since that compilation had been made, the thought had been on your mind a lot. Were you ready to go public with Lando? At the end of the day you were both happy and surely that was the most important thing.

Later that night, you were sitting eating your meal when a phone was handed to you, displayed on it was a picture of you and Lando - in each other’s arms.

Instantly you knew what this meant, looking at Lando you were met with the same expression. He did as well.

You and Lando had decided it was time to announce your relationship, there was no point sneaking around anymore if people knew and were looking out for you. You had agreed that the best way to do it was if you joined him in a stream, that way they got to know you a bit more for who you were.

“Is it ok to feel as nervous as I am?” You asked him, pulling up a chair beside him. He was setting up the stream, two mugs of tea placed in front of you. It seemed completely unnatural to sit facing the camera.

“I mean, this is kind of a big deal so yes I would say, it’s completely natural for you to feel nervous.” He reached for your hand, rubbing his thumb over the back of it. Nodding, you took a deep breath.

“Ok. I’m ready.” You said, your heart beating at a million miles an hour. The corners of his lips turned up, leaning in to leave you a kiss on the lips.

“I love you and I’m so proud of you.” He admitted quietly, as though you were the only person in the world, his eyes flickered with complete adoration.

“I love you too. Now, shall we start it?”

Lando went to press the start stream button but paused. He turned back to face you, his eyes wide and offered an apologetic smile.

“What did you do?” You asked, a smile toying at your lips as you had an idea of what it might have been.

“Stream, meet my girlfriend.”

He had already started it...

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babyboibucky · 4 years ago

Text

Elevate Thy Hate

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Summary: Not a day goes by that you and Bucky don’t argue.

Word Count: 4,642

Warnings: Cliché plot but slight angst, self-doubt and Bucky being a loveable idiot who sucks at communicating

A/N: Surprise one-shot because I just remembered I wrote this like...last year lmfao

MAIN MASTERLIST

You woke up feeling great and excited. The mission was finally finished, debriefings were done and reports have been submitted. Everyone was given an entire week to get some rest and since rest days were pretty rare, you truly looked forward to this day.

Before you could even saunter in the kitchen, you had already heard the chatters from your fellow Avengers. One particular voice irked you though but hell no, you weren’t going to let one Bucky Barnes ruin your day.

A chorus of good mornings greeted you as soon as you walked into the kitchen. Nat and Steve were on one side of the counter sipping their coffee while Sam and Wanda were finishing up their food. Tony and Bruce were out of sight, probably holed up in the lab doing experiments as usual. Bucky didn’t acknowledge you and quickly headed out of the kitchen, thankfully. You weren’t in the mood to pick a fight.

Walking up to the cupboards, you quickly grabbed you favorite cereal and proceeded to pour it out on your bowl. None came out though. You peeked inside bag and saw that only crumbs of it were left.

“Who the—“

Everyone was already pointing at Bucky when you turned around to ask. And of course, Bucky did it on purpose because he stood there at the end of the hallway, watching you with smug grin on his face.

“I hope your day sucks.” He said and flipped you the bird before turning around to walk away.

You groaned out loud, ignoring the amused chuckles from everyone else in the kitchen.

“I’m not stooping down to your level, asshole! I hope your day is average!”

The day was fortunately uneventful, except for your ruined breakfast care of Bucky. You were determined not to let that annoy you for the rest of the day. So far, so good. You could only wish it’d continue that way for the rest of the week.

“I told you not to rush!” Bucky snapped.

“I had him already! If you didn’t throw that goddamn smoke grenade I would’ve killed him!” You explained.

You could see Sam shaking his head in frustration. Bucky always had to blame something on you even though you weren’t the one at fault.

Bucky snorted, “He had a sniper for fuck’s sake! One shot and you’re dead.”

“Oh wow, says the one who got shot before I did.” You rolled your eyes at Bucky.

The two of you continued to bicker until Nat and Steve walked into the living room looking confused as you and Bucky exchanged insults while Sam remained sandwiched between the both of you on the couch.

“Who got shot?” Steve asked, glancing at you and Bucky alternately.

“Did we miss out on a mission or...?” Nat continued.

Sam chuckled, “We were playing Call of Duty and we lost.” He explained, taking the opportunity to get up from the sofa.

Steve still looked lost, something that Nat immediately picked up. “It’s a video game.” She explained.

“You two are fighting over a game?” He asked you and Bucky.

“They fight over everything.” Nat shrugged and walked out of the room with Sam tagging behind her.

“I’m outta here too, I’m so done babysitting the kids.” He muttered under his breath.

It was past midnight when you were in the living room alone, watching television while eating a Whopper. The lights were turned off and it was absolutely quiet in the compound, setting the perfect ambience for the crime documentary you were watching.

Not long after, you heard someone walk into the living room. It was only when your heard the familiar grunt that you realized who it was. Of course, it had to be Bucky.

“Are you eating a burger?” He asked incredulously.

“No, it’s popcorn. Of course it’s a fucking burger, are you blind or just dumb?” You snapped, your eyes still glued on the television.

“Dumbfounded that you’re eating that at this hour. No wonder you suck at cardio.” Bucky said as he sat down on the other end of the sofa.

“Are you body-shaming me?” You gasped.

Bucky snickered, “I didn’t say anything, I just said you suck at cardio.” He said, not looking at you.

You chose to ignore him and brought your attention back to the television. It was quiet for moment. You almost forgot about Bucky’s presence until of course, he decided to annoy you yet again.

“Can you pass the remote?” Bucky asked monotonously.

“No.”

Silence.

“This show sucks.” He commented.

You were focused on the show but noticed that Bucky was staring at you.

“Can you please pass the remote?” He asked again.

“In case you didn’t notice, I’m watching. I was here first. I hold the rights to control the remote.” You deadpanned, refusing to look at him.

There was a flash of black and gold right before your eyes. Everything happened quickly and the next thing you knew, Bucky was hovering above you, trapping you between his body and the arm rest of the sofa.

“The fuck, Barnes?! Get off of me!” You protested and started pushing him away.

“You gotta work on your reflexes, darling.” He said, finally leaning away from you, remote now in his hand.

He grinned triumphantly and switched the channel before placing the remote inside his sweatpants, “Want to switch the channel? Come and get it.” he taunted as he leaned back on the couch, opening his legs wide as he showed off how the remote created a tent in his sweatpants.

That was the remote...right? You mentally slapped yourself for actually thinking about what Bucky was packing beneath those pants and frowned.

“You’re an asshole and a disgusting one.” You told him.

“God, I hate you.” You muttered and crumpled the wrapper of your burger before throwing it at Bucky.

Deciding that you didn’t want to argue any further, you got up and left the living room, but not without telling Bucky again how much you hated him for making your life miserable.

“The feeling is mutual.” You heard him say.

The petty fights with Bucky went on and on during that entire week of rest. Despite the arguments, there were small moments of kindness shared between you and the soldier.

“Where are you going dressed up so nicely?” You asked Bucky upon seeing him walk into the kitchen wearing a leather jacket on top of a black shirt, dark, tight-fitting jeans and a pair of Doc Martens.

It was meant as an insult, of course. You took every opportunity to tease Bucky and his newfound sense of fashion. Said fashion meant his taste for very millennial outfits despite his old age.

“Grocery.” He replied as he went over to the fridge to pour himself a glass of water.

“Ooh, can you buy me Starbucks on your way back? I’ll pay.” You asked kindly.

Bucky just stared at you as he drank from his glass of water. He slammed it on the counter before walking past you.

“Not a damn chance.”

He did buy you Starbucks though. It didn’t shock you that much considering that the both of you didn’t hate on each other all the damn time. But what surprised you was that he brought you your usual drink and your favorite pastry too.

Steve must have forced him to do so, probably told his best friend your usual orders as well so you made a note to thank him as soon as they got back.

And thank Steve you did, but you didn’t expect the reply that you got.

“Oh was that the reason why Bucky kept bugging me about stopping by Starbucks?” Steve asked.

You narrowed your eyes at him, “What do you mean? I thought he told you I asked him to buy me Starbucks.”

Steve chuckled, “I guess now I know why he wouldn’t shut up about it.” he said, amusement laced in his tone.

“I don’t understand, Cap.” you said.

Steve just smiled at you in response before squeezing your shoulder, “Maybe you will understand soon.”

And with that, he left you feeling even more confused. You honestly didn’t understand the context of the conversation so you decided to just ignore it. Steve sometimes would say weird shit that none of the Avengers knew about. You dismissed it and thought that maybe it was Steve being a decade old, it was probably an old man thing.

You decided to make coffee for Bucky the following day, as a simple gesture to thank him for the Starbucks. He didn’t ask you to pay him back so you felt obligated to do a little something for him. You were an asshole to him sometimes, yes, but that didn’t mean you weren’t going to give credit where credit is due.

Okay, so maybe you didn’t really hate Bucky. If you did actually hate him, the entire team would probably do something about it. Maybe force the two of you to talk things out. The hatred was all fun and games, everyone seemed to be amused by it too.

You still considered Bucky your friend despite the constant bickering. You had to admit, the arguments were pretty fun.

Although, you were wondering whether Bucky felt the same about considering you as his friend. Sometimes, his attitude towards you confused the hell out of you.

One day he’d eat the chocolate you’ve been saving up for cheat day just to spite you. And it definitely did because you ended up cursing him out loud when you saw him munching on it. The next day he brought you a new one. You were watching Netflix when he waltzed into the living room and threw a bar of chocolate at your lap before walking out without saying a word.

These exchange of small yet kind (and confusing) gestures remained unacknowledged. You didn’t know why but you also didn’t feel the need to talk about them. You weren’t going to lie but Bucky’s random acts of kindness would always put a smile on your face.

The vacation unfortunately came to an end and everyone had to go back to saving the world. All of you were gathered in the conference room with Fury for a briefing about the next mission. It wasn’t as big as the last one but it still required a lot of planning.

After explaining the mission, Fury let Steve take over the meeting to strategize.

Some were assigned to do surveillance around the parameter while some were appointed to do all the groundwork. Steve of course, just had to partner you with Bucky to do the actual infiltration given that your skills complemented each other’s.

You grinned and was prepared to roast Bucky’s ass when you turned to him and was met with a scowl. He shook his head with what you assumed was disappointment and turned away from you.

It was the first time he ever dismissed you like that. Sure, you were rude to each other but the look that Bucky gave you wasn’t a teasing one. He wasn’t mocking you nor frustrated. Bucky seemed to really hate the idea of being partnered with you. It was the first time that the two of you had to work together without anyone else. Usually, Steve or Sam joined but for this mission, it was just you and Bucky. Concluding that he must have woken up at the wrong side of the bed, you chose to ignore your gut feeling and focused back to Steve.

After the meeting, everyone else exited the room and started with the preparations for the mission. As you walked down the hallway leading to your bedroom, you heard some soft chattering coming from Steve’s bedroom.

You were supposed to ignore it until you heard your name, making you stop in your tracks.

“I can’t be partnered with her, Steve.”

Bucky.

“Buck, just go with it. I can’t be changing assignments at the last minute.” Steve explained.

Bucky sighed, “You know I can’t function properly when she’s around, let alone be partnered with her. She distracts me, Steve. Her skills distract me and I swear on our friendship, I would end up dying on this assignment.”

“You’re being overly dramatic, Buck. Just suck it up, pal. Do the mission and get it over with.”

“Steve, you don’t understand. I really can’t deal with her. Especially if it’s just the two of us. You know how much I fucking—“

“Hate me?”

You couldn’t help but interject in their conversation. How could you not? Bucky was complaining about how he couldn’t deal with you. It really hurt hearing Bucky say all those things about you. Sure, you were somewhat new to the team and you didn’t have superpowers nor years of training like the rest. But you worked your ass off to be in this position. And for him to say that he couldn’t function with you being around struck a nerve. The last thing on your mind was to hold back your teammates, that’s why you train twice, thrice as hard.

Steve and Bucky stared at you as if they’ve seen a ghost. It’s as if all their blood was drained out of their body when they saw you step inside the room. Bucky was about to say something but you decided to cut him off, not wanting to hear more about how he doesn’t want to be partnered with you.

“We don’t get along that well, I get that. But I honestly thought that our arguments were harmless. Hell, I consider us friends. I didn’t think that you actually hated me.” Your voice quivered because you were truly, deeply hurt.

“That’s not what I meant.” Bucky insisted.

“You literally said that you might end up dying because of being partnered with me, Bucky! Look, I know that I don’t have a super serum running through my veins. I can’t move things with my mind and I can’t come up with life-changing tech. I wasn’t trained since childhood nor have the perfect aim. But I worked hard to be in this team. I trained hard not to be a burden to anyone and I’m sorry if my skills aren’t up to your standards.”

What did you even do to Bucky for him to hate you this much?

“Don’t worry, I won’t burden you. Once this mission is over, I won’t bother you anymore. Ever.” You said before walking out of the way, ignoring Bucky when he had repeatedly called your name.

The ride to the location was filled with tension. Although everyone else had no idea what happened, they somehow knew that the tension had something to do with you and Bucky.

Thankfully, the quinjet was big enough for you not to end up sitting beside Bucky.

“You okay?” Wanda asked, noticing how restless you were.

What you heard definitely affected you in more ways than one. You kept on double checking your weapons, your gadgets and you even ended up doubting yourself. Were you really equipped to be an Avenger? Steve said that Bucky was merely overacting but what if he was right? What if you weren’t skilled enough to protect him or your teammates?

“That’s not true.” Wanda said out of the blue. “I didn’t mean to read your mind, though. Your thoughts are coming off too strong, kinda hard to ignore.” She said apologetically.

You softly laughed, “I should really be staying away from you.” You joked.

Wanda smiled and placed her hand on top of yours, “I mean it though. You’re amazing at what you do. I don’t understand why you’re doubting yourself about being an Avenger.”

Swallowing the lump in your throat, you offered Wanda a grateful smile. You noticed that Bucky had been staring at you the entire time but simply ignored him. You weren’t going to let him snap you out of your focus.

Once on location, everyone started to split up and listened for Steve’s orders through the comms. You and Bucky managed to get inside the base, all thanks to Nat and the Hulk who handled all the guards.

The building was completely empty when the two of you walked around in search of the hidden quarters where all the intel were kept.

Bucky whistled to get your attention, you turned and saw that he was motioning towards what seemed to be a regular brick wall. However, there were a few bricks out of place and upon examining it, you realized it was some sort of a secret door. You managed to figure out which bricks to push and thankfully, it didn’t take you long enough to open the door which revealed an old, steel elevator.

“We found the entrance, Steve.” Bucky said into the comms.

“Careful in there, there were suspiciously a few guards within the parameters. They all might be in there.” Nat warned.

You heaved out a deep breath before stepping into the elevator with Bucky trailing behind you. There was only one button in the elevator, a red one.

“Can someone scan the elevator and make sure this button won’t set off any boobie trap or something?” You asked nervously as you inspected the elevator for any hidden traps.

The comms cracked with Sam’s voice. “Button is safe although...” he trailed.

“Although what?” Bucky asked, examining the elevator as well.

“You’re in for a long ride.”

You frowned, “How long?” You asked.

“Can’t see. It’s way too deep.”

Sam was able to scan the entire base and true enough, the elevator would lead deep down into the hidden laboratory. How deep into the ground it was, none could tell. Neither Sam nor Tony’s technology could see through due to the lack of signal. Steve said it might be dangerous to proceed given that there were no other ways into the lab except for the elevator.

The lack of signal down there meant no communication.

“Guys, I don’t think it’s a good idea to continue with this mission.” Steve said.

“But we’re so close, Steve.” You said.

“I think Steve is right. It’d be hard to call for back up when things go south.” Bucky interjected, not even sparing you a glance.

You snorted. Bucky sure wasn’t overacting when he was complaining about your skills. He definitely didn’t trust you. You weren’t going to settle for that.

“We won’t need any back up.”

And with that, you pressed the red button and completely ignored everyone’s warnings through the comms. Bucky looked at you with disbelief and tried to press the red button again in hopes of halting the elevator. However, the brick wall had closed and the elevator started its descent.

“Why the fuck did you do that?!” He yelled and tried to search the elevator for some sort of stop button.

“We’ll follow soon!” Steve’s voice was the last you heard before your comms completely lost its signal.

“Christ, we don’t even know whether it’s the lab that’s down there!” Bucky said, continuing his search for anything that would bring the both of you up to the ground floor.

“I’m not as stupid as you think I am. All secret doors lead to a top secret room and no, we won’t be needing any back up because I am totally capable of taking down anyone who gets in the way.” You stubbornly replied and leaned against the wall.

You wondered how long the elevator ride was going to be. At the speed that it’s going, it wasn’t impossible to take at least fifteen to twenty minutes if the lab was really far down into the ground. Bucky’s frustration was evident from the way he kept on inspecting the elevator walls. At first it was easy to ignore but Bucky was becoming more and more desperate to find a way to go back up.

“Your desperation to stay away from me is just...astounding.” You said with a bitter chuckle.

“I’m finding a way to get out of here, not away from you.” Bucky explained calmly.

You shook your head, “You don’t trust me to keep you alive, I get it. But can you tone it down even for just a bit?” You spat at him.

Bucky pressed the bridge of his nose and let out an exasperated sigh, “You don’t need to keep me alive.”

“Of course not, you don’t need me to do so ‘cause you’re so capable. How did I not think of that?” At this point, you couldn’t stop the word vomit.

You had tons of things to say to Bucky to prove to him that you were totally good at what you do, that he didn’t need to underestimate you just because you were a new addition to the team.

“That’s not what I mean.” Bucky explained again.

It was starting to annoy you that the more you were becoming agitated, the calmer he was becoming. And he kept on telling you that he meant differently with his statements but he never really attempted to further explain his side.

“Then what do you mean, Bucky?” You pressed. “What did I ever do to you for you to hate me this much? Did I say something offensive? Do I have to train 24/7 for you to think that I deserve to be working alongside the Avengers?” You kept on babbling on and on and on.

Bucky rubbed his face with his hand, “I don’t hate you, okay?” He doesn’t even spare you a look.

All this time, he was looking at anything but you and it was really getting on your nerves.

“See? You keep on telling me that you don’t hate me but you can’t even look at me! I mean, if you really loathe me then own up to it! It hurts me more that you keep on denying it when you can’t even explain a damn thing. At least tell me why!” You were never an emotional person and Bucky knew that, so when he finally turned to look at you, he was surprised to see you on the verge of tears.

“Hey, hey...” Bucky coaxed and tried to hold you but you stepped away from him.

“Just please tell me why, Buck. Tell me and I promise to stay away. If you think I suck at being an Avenger to the point of irritating you, tell me so I can train my fucking ass off until you deem me fit to be an Avenger. If my jokes offended you, I’m sorry. If I—“

“It’s because I like you.”

“...what?”

Bucky Barnes...likes you? It’s as if the silence went on forever inside the elevator that seemed to keep going. How long were the two of you inside it anyway? You couldn’t tell anymore and you didn’t know whether Bucky was simply fooling around with you.

“That’s not funny.” You said.

Bucky shook his head, “It’s not a joke.”

You stared at him doubtfully, “Explain.” You demanded.

Bucky licked his lips and let out a soft chuckle, “I’m an idiot.” He said.

“That doesn’t explain anything. If any, I’d think you’re simply fucking with me.” You pointed out and crossed your arms over your chest.

That seemed to urge Bucky to finally explain. “What you heard in Steve’s room was correct.”

“So you really hate me.”

Bucky groaned, “Let me finish, please?” He pleaded. When you remained silent, he continued to explain himself.

“You really do distract me during missions. Because you’re so amazing and I never doubted your skills. But I also get worried and I hate it when I see you in pain or wounded and it fucking distracts me. I didn’t want to be partnered with you because when I see you, I just...fuck. I like you that much. You kick someone’s ass and I’d end up watching you with awe that it’d cause me my own demise. That’s what I meant. That I’d probably end up dying because whenever you’re around, you have my full attention.”

The anger within you dissipated just like that. You could feel your face heat up from Bucky’s unexpected confession.

“But you’re an asshole to me.” You pointed out.

Bucky laughed, “Because that’s how I get your attention. You walk into a room with a kind-hearted super soldier, a witty bird brain and a few more intelligent men and yet I’d be the first one you’d acknowledge. With a snarky comment but still, attention is attention. It’s the only way I get to interact with you without feeling awkward. I suck at conversations, I mean, you heard me and though I was hating on you when I was merely blabbering to Steve about how much I like you.”

This time, you couldn’t hold back your laughter. All along, Bucky was finding a way to talk to you even though it meant constant arguments over the pettiest things. To be fair though, he really did suck at communicating.

“I’m sorry that it came across like that.” Bucky apologized sincerely. “I hope this doesn’t change anything between us.” He admitted.

You shrugged, “Oh but it does. In fact, it changes everything.”

Bucky’s face fell.

“Because I think I like you too and I kinda want for things to change. For the better of course.” You grinned.

Bucky chuckled and scratched his forehead bashfully, “You think, huh? Not sure?” He asked and turned to you just as the elevator doors opened.

Indeed, it led to the lab where almost all of the targets stayed. The man nearest the elevator had his gun pointed at Bucky but before he could even pull the trigger, Bucky had thrown his knife at him without even sparing a glance and choked the next guy to attack with his metal arm before throwing him towards a group of armed men. He was just gazing at you with a smittened smile.

“Still not sure about liking me back?”

Impressed at his gesture, you smirked.

“Now I am.”

By the time Steve, Nat and Sam walked out of the elevator, the mission had already been done. You walked towards the trio and handed Steve a USB.

“All their data is already saved there. Wiped out their entire system clean too.” You told him, voice chirpy and all.

Bucky was right behind you, a couple of folders in his hands before handing them to Sam, “Lotsa confidential info in there too which includes our next targets.” he said and walked past Sam with a certain jump in his steps.

The three exchanged glances before looking around the entire lab. Men were scattered on the floor, most were dead and others heavily injured.

“What the hell happened here?” Nat asked, avoiding the injured men on the ground as she walked around.

“The mission happened, Nat. All that matters now is that everything has been resolved. I mean, everything.” You said meaningfully and threw Bucky a flirty smile before walking into the elevator.

He followed suit and saluted at the three before pushing the red button. The doors weren’t even closed yet when Bucky couldn’t hold back and quickly leaned to press a soft kiss on your lips. An action that definitely didn’t go unnoticed by the three. You couldn’t help but chuckle when you noticed their reactions before the elevator closed.

Said trio stood there dumbfounded and confused as hell. Early on, the tension between you and Bucky was felt by everyone. The kind of tension then wasn’t even a sexual one. It was so intense that Nat was actually expecting to see you and Bucky at each other’s throats when they got down to the lab.

“Guess that the long ass elevator ride did something. Whatever was in that elevator seems interesting. Wanna go check it out, Nat?” Sam asked suggestively.

Steve chuckled and shook his head.

Nat simply smirked and walked past Sam, “In your dreams, Wilson.”

Everything Bucky Tag List:

@ddowii @jessou893 @stealapizzamyheart @bagelofthelord @mxnt @dontputyourfckingdrinkonmytable @jeeperky @ohladymacbeth @wildflowergubler @supraveng @twinerd14 @buckysmar @bakugouswh0r3

#bbbwrites #oneshots: bucky barnes #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x reader #bucky x you #bucky x reader #sebastian stan

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thenovelartist · 3 years ago

Text

Mistaken Drink; Drunk Mistake - Tears of Themis

Up next in the "Drunk Wedding" series, we have Artem. Enjoy ;D

When Artem woke up that morning, he was in a shocking amount of pain. He didn’t want to move despite the fact he knew he needed to get up for work.

Regrettably, he forced himself up into a sitting position, only to instantly feel nauseous. He was going to have to call in sick wasn’t he?

“Artem? Are you okay?”

The sweet voice rung in his ears. Before he could even place where he’d heard that voice before, he felt a cool hand on his back. It took him far too long to realize that said hand was touching his skin, making him realize he wasn’t in a shirt.

Why wasn’t he in a shirt? He always slept in a shirt.

However, before he could think too much about it, a new wave of nausea hit him. He braced himself against the headboard of his bed, leaning his forehead on his arms in hopes that the feeling would pass.

“Do you need water?” the voice asked. A lovely, sweet, feminine voice.

“No,” he muttered weakly.

There was a pause, in which time the intense symptoms faded to manageable levels

“Are you dizzy?” the feminine voice asked. “Do you want medicine?”

“No,” he replied.

However, now he was very curious as to who the owner of that voice was. He couldn’t stand it anymore; he had to know. So, pushing past the pain, he slowly lifted his head up to get a look at the person who was next to him.

Oh, it was his work partner.

That was the only thought he had before he felt sick again and buried his face back in his arms, blocking the light from seeping in.

And then the nausea hit him like a truck.

“Artem? Are you sure you’re okay?”

He couldn’t answer. But he most certainly was not.

…

Fifteen minutes later, after a bathroom break that turned into him emptying the contents of his stomach and feeling all the better for it, he was laying back on his bed, eyes closed and arms draped over his face to keep the light out. He was still shirtless at the moment, but that was less because of choice and more because he could barely move from his spot to the closet to grab one.

As for work, he was fortunate enough to have realized it was a weekend. He had time to recover.

He heard a set of footsteps enter his room, and despite knowing better, he opened his eyes to watch Rosa enter, glass of water in one hand and something else in the other.

With his headache, he draped his arms over his face again. While it was originally to keep the light out of his eyes, it also doubled to cover his blush. The question of “why she was in his house” had yet to be answered.

So did the question of “why she was in his shirt”. But he could only think on everything for so long before his headache warned him to calm down.

“I brought you some medicine,” Rosa said. The space beside him on the bed sank under her weight. And while he wanted to warn her that her being here in a bedroom with him, he wasn’t particularly in a position to speak at the moment, figuratively and literally. “Are you feeling better?”

He paused to think on it. “Possibly.”

“Possibly,” she whispered to herself. Despite being out of it, he could hear the resigned smile in her tone. “Do you need anything? Or just rest?”

Honestly, he needed a lot of things. Answers, specifically.

Slowly, he removed his arms from his head so he could open his eyes and see Rosa. The light still seemed over-bright, but it wasn’t as bad as before.

She gave him a smile, and suddenly, he felt warm all over again. “Good morning.”

His heart gave a funny leap in his chest. “Sorry,” he muttered.

Her expression fell to a concerned one. “For what?”

He wasn’t fully sure. Everything, maybe.

Yes, everything.

But before he could say it, she reached forward to brush his bangs back from his eyes, and words died in his throat. “You don’t have to be sorry,” she said. “I’m sorry, too.”

His brow furrowed in confusion. “For what?”

“For last night,” she said.

He pursed his lips together, trying to think of anything she had to be sorry about, but his memories seemed too hazy to recall anything. “To be frank,” he said, voice hoarse. “I can’t remember last night.”

When her eyes widened in surprise, it took him a long moment to realize it wasn’t the good kind. And when she smiled, it was tense, which caused his own stomach to tighten up again. “Well…” she began. “Um… you really can’t remember anything at all?”

He paused, trying long and hard to think back to last night. “We were at a party,” he answered. “For the firm.”

“Yes,” she confirmed with a nod. “There was that.”

The more he thought on it, the more he could recall the scene. Themis Law Firm had decided to hold a party for its associates to celebrate a major court win for a big client. It had taken months of research and many staff members, but in the end, it had come out in their favor. It had been Celestine’s idea to throw a party for the sake of the employees, congratulating them and allowing them to have a moment to enjoy themselves.

Artem had been there, of course, enjoying the atmosphere and the company of Rosa, who had sat next to him at the bar while the others grew roudy around them.

But that was all he could recall.

“What happened after?” he asked, giving up his futile mission of recalling anything further.

“I think… my best guess is the bartender mixed up someone’s double-shot mixed drinks with your mocktails,” she answered.

Ahh, that would explain it. He grimaced, letting his eyes shut again as he dragged a tired hand over his face. How did he not catch that?

“Are you here because you helped me home?” he asked, already knowing what her answer would be.

“Well… I mean… yes,” she answered, hesitantly.

He opened his eyes again to look back up at her. “Why didn’t you go home?”

She turned bright red.

Oh no, that wasn’t his intention. He felt bashful just looking at her.

“I… kinda… was drunk myself,” she said, her blush not dying down as she turned her gaze away from him. “So, I fell asleep beside you.”

His face began to burn. Wait, she was beside him all night?

“Oh,” she said, looking down at her shirt which was actually his shirt which caused a second wave of embarrassment to crash down on him. “Sorry, I stole one of your shirts because my dress was stained from when someone fell and dumped a Bloody Mary on us. That’s why you’re shirtless, too. So you wouldn’t ruin your sheets. Which reminds me, are you cold? Do you want me to get you something?”

His mind had already come to a screeching halt hearing her explain, so starting it back up again so he could answer was a challenge. “I-I…”

Why was talking so hard?

“Yes.”

She gave him a nod. “Okay. I’ll grab one for you.”

With that, she turned her back to him, and he covered his face with his hands, silently wishing he could die and save him from this mortification.

When she returned, she helped him sit up again, and he slid on the plain shirt she’d given him.

“Thank you, for caring for me,” he eventually said, trying his very best to pull himself together. “If you give me a moment, I can give you a jacket to cover your dress and call a cab for you.”

She froze. “Uh…” She seemed to struggle to find words before turning a strained smile on him. “Well… there’s… actually another reason I hadn’t left yet.”

Artem’s brow knit together in confusion., but his gut sank like a stone with worry.

“Because…” The smile she gave him was overly-exaggerated, which worried him deeply. “We should really talk about what to do about our wedding certificate.”

Artem froze, the words somehow eluding him for a moment before registering in his mind all at once.

“I’m sorry. Our what?”

…

It seemed drinking wasn’t the only thing he did last night.

It was mid-morning now, and he was sitting at the table holding his second cup of coffee while he stared at the document in front of him. And he still couldn’t believe it. Because not only had he and Rosa had decided to get married while they were drunk.

But Celestine witnessed.

This had to be the most embarrassing thing he’d ever done and likely the most embarrassing thing he would do in his entire life.

“I’m pretty sure it’s legal,” Rosa said, taking a seat beside him. She was still in his shirt, slowly killing him at the sight of her in it, sipping on her own mug of coffee.

“It is,” he lamented. “Unfortunately.”

“You say that like being married to me is a bad thing.”

His heartrate skyrocketed as he struggled for words. “No! That’s not what I—”

Before he could finish, he took in the sight of her sniggering over her coffee mug. “I was just teasing.”

Despite that, he wasn’t fully able to relax. Because if given the opportunity, he’d love to be married to the woman beside him. However, that wasn’t likely, considering he couldn’t even so much as confess his feelings to this woman.

He cleared his throat. “I’ll start on the annulment, then. It should be granted easily seeing as we were both intoxicated at the time.”

“Do we have to, though?”

He froze, shocked, then confused. “What?”

She sighed. “Celestine warned me you were this dense,” she whispered under her breath.

While Artem was still processing those words, Rosa turned in her seat to face him head on, looking him straight in the eyes. “I love you.”

Whatever Rosa proceeded to say was lost on Artem. He was frozen, completely caught off guard by such a confession. He… he’d thought she wasn’t interested. She never seemed to respond to his advances the way he’d anticipated she would. So why…

How…

He was so confused.

“And I know you try hard to get my attention,” she said, her words finally registering in his mind. “I thought we were getting closer, too. But…” She looked down, disappointment written all over her face. “I must have been wrong.”

“You love me?”

She turned her wide eyes back on him, and suddenly, she was smiling again. “You really are dense, aren’t you?”

…

Back at work, Artem was working on the annulment.

It was… disappointing, in a way. He and Rosa had had a long talk about a relationship between them and where they each saw it going, and what they landed on was marriage in the future. She’d suggested keeping the marriage certificate just in case. However, Artem was adamant that this would notbe how they married. So, annulment it was until they saw fit to come together, sober, as husband and wife.

Which, Artem hoped wouldn’t be too far off in the future.

“So, how’s married life?”

Artem looked up to see Celestine grinning down at him. He fixed her with a stern glare as he picked up the wedding certificate. “You actually witnessed this sham of a marriage?”

“I did!” she cried, grin never leaving her face. “It was a sight to behold. I’m so proud of you for making the first move and asking her to marry you, even if you were drunk when you did. Maybe you and alcohol do get along after all.”

Artem sighed, suddenly feeling quite tired. “And how sober were you for the thought of stopping us to not occur to you?”

“Oh, I was perfectly sober.”

Artem nearly dropped the document. “What?”

With a laugh, she winked at him. “By the way, Rosa istaking on your last name, right? So that I know to give her the proper change of name paperwork.”

Leaning back in his chair with a heavy sigh, Artem wondered if a hangover could reappear days after drinking. Because his head was sure spinning right about now.

#tears of themis #tears of themis fanfic #artem wing

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atlabeth · 3 years ago

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hold onto me (im a little unsteady) - sokka x reader

i was listening to the song when i came up w this so feel free to listen to that if you want

summary: a late night with sokka reminds you that even on the worst days, you always have someone in your corner.

a/n: lmao this is 100% self indulgent i have no excuses. my parents are getting divorced and almost every time they're together they argue and so this is just a comfort fic after it happened again tonight bc GD i wish i had a sokka. this one goes out to all my divorce babies or people with parents that never stop arguing. you are very loved<3

wc: 1.7k, this got away from me lol

warning(s): mentions of parents arguing n shit, like the tiniest mentions of implying sex and problems with consent (in general, not with them), but this is all fluff

hey. i know you’re probably asleep right now but could you come over?

It was far too late at night when you sent the text. A question asked on a whim, an offer that would most likely go ignored due to the boy on the other end being asleep.

But goddammit, you really didn’t care. Even if he didn’t respond, just hitting ‘send’ made you feel slightly better. You had already taken refuge in one of the sweatshirts he had left at your house (read: one that you had stolen and refused to give back) and as your eyes fell on the glow of the digital clock on your bedside table, you were once again reminded of how stupid this was.

But you heard the telltale buzz of a notification and all but lunged for your phone, an uncontrollable smile tugging on your lips. You didn’t know why you ever doubted him.

sokka💙: you know i never sleep babe

sokka💙: a curse of my genius

sokka💙: im omw

you’re the best thank you love<3

A pair of fuzzy socks and a refilled water bottle later, you heard the sound of something hitting your window. Though you tensed up at first, a roll of your eyes was all it took before you remembered just who you had invited over. Another smile took over as you pushed yourself off of your bed, pushing the curtains aside in time to see another pebble hit the pane.

A physical effort took place to stifle the laugh as you pushed your window up, and you leaned against the sill on your elbows to get a better look at your ridiculous boyfriend.

“Throwing rocks at my window? I think I’m stuck in a bad romcom.”

He grinned and let the remaining pebbles fall to the ground. “It’s what’s to be expected from your Prince Charming, right? Besides, I’m assuming that your parents wouldn’t just let me walk through the front door at this hour.”

You felt the heat rise to your cheeks. Just the sight of Sokka was always enough to make you feel better, and tonight was no exception. The vice on your heart was already starting to loosen. “Right as usual. Think you’ll catch me if I jump?”

He laughed and made a show of looking up and down the distance and then at his arms. “I’d like to say so, but I think we’d have better luck if I climb up.”

“You sure you can do that, big guy?” you asked with a teasing grin. He rolled his eyes with the same sentiment.

“Of course I can. I just thank nature that there’s a tree so close to your window. It’s saved me from a lot of embarrassing falls.”

You chuckled and backed away from the window, the slight chill from the night air beginning to get to you. “I’ll leave you to it while I get things ready.”

Truth be told, your room was a total mess at the moment. You knew Sokka wouldn’t care, especially not now, but it put you slightly more at ease to have something in your life that you could control. You were in the middle of shoving some previously strewn-about clothes into your closet when you heard the click of your window closing. When you turned around, you were met with your boyfriend’s smiling face.

“You’re so pretty,” you murmured as you walked over to him. He wrapped his arms around your waist as you kissed him lightly on the lips, unable to stop the blossoming smile nor the warmth that the action gave you. “Thank you for being here.”

“Of course.” The softness of his words were in stark contrast to the joking bravado from only minutes earlier, and as you stepped away from his embrace and pushed yourself onto your bed, he joined you on the other side. “And not that I’m not happy to be here, but I just wanna know. What’s going on?”

You sighed, letting one leg hang off the bed as you tucked the other in. It was a testament to Sokka’s power how quickly he had gotten you to forget about the new mess of the night. “The usual showing of fuckall and fuckup. I’m more impressed by how they never run out of things to scream at each other about.”

Your bad joke didn’t get a laugh out of him, which you were secretly glad for. Instead, he snaked an arm around your back and tugged you closer, a contented sigh falling from your lips as you nestled your head into the space between his shoulder and his head. “I’m sorry,” he murmured. “You know it’s not your fault, right?”

The phrase had gone in one ear and out the other more times than you could count from your parents, but each time Sokka said it, the words held a different weight. You knew it wasn’t your fault in the first place, but guilt didn’t care all that much for logic. You knew he meant it though, and once more the vice loosened.

“I know. But it still helps to hear it.” You glanced up at him, reaching a hand up to twist a loose strand of his hair around your finger. “You should wear your hair down more often,” you mused. “It makes you look like a prince.”

He chuckled, amusement glinting through his ocean eyes. “I did say I was your Prince Charming, didn’t I?”

You smiled, slowly uncurling his hair from your finger. “Yeah.”

“That means I’ll always be there for you. Especially to save my royal from their evil stepparents.”

Another laugh bubbled in your chest at that, and you leaned closer into him. “Thank you. The more I visit your place, the more I want your family to be mine. Hakoda is like, the nicest man I’ve ever met, and your mom? She actually makes me want to cry with how sweet she is. I think I know where you get it from.”

He grinned and bumped your leg with his own. “You know you’re welcome over there any time. But maybe you shouldn’t — I think my mom might actually adopt you with how much she loves you. That… that would be really weird.”

His joy was infectious as you planted another kiss on his cheek, something that earned you a, as you liked to call it, dazzling Signature Sokka Smile. “I’ll make sure she holds off on the adoption papers for now.”

“I’d like that.”

And though the happiness you felt at the moment was almost overwhelming, that was just what caused that tiny sliver of doubt to come in. When people invited their partners over at three in the morning, it usually wasn’t to sit on the bed and talk about their problems. It was… it was for more, and you didn’t want that right now. And because you were an expert at it, you decided to put your foot in your mouth and start talking.

“I— I’m sorry that I called you over here so late, for no reason. I know you probably expected something else than me ranting, but…” you sighed, drawing your knees closer to your chest as you brought your other hand to Sokka’s resting on your shoulder. “I’m sorry if I gave you the wrong idea.”

He sighed at that, but you knew it wasn’t one of disappointment. “You know I’m here for you. I don’t care if you just want to sit in silence for the next five hours while we stare at the wall, or if you want to watch sappy rom coms until your eyes bleed. I’m more than okay with staying like this. I didn’t come over here because I expected anything from you — I came over here because you needed me, and so I’m here.” Sokka smiled, an image you didn’t think would ever stop making you melt, and intertwined your hand with his. “This is perfect. You’re perfect.”

You were so stunned at the brazen declaration that your voice got stuck in your throat for a moment, holding back tears. (Happy tears. They were never anything other than happy tears with Sokka.) It hit you then that you didn’t really know what it was like having someone get close to you without an ulterior motive.

“Thank you,” you murmured after a moment of comfortable silence. “I love you.”

“I love you too.” You knew he was smiling, even without having to look up at him. You could hear it in his voice, feel it in the kiss he pressed to your hairline.

A comfortable silence hung in the air for a long time until you broke it. “You know… my dad kinda ran off to a motel for the night after this whole thing, and my mom leaves early in the morning. If you were serious about those rom coms…” You allowed the unsaid question of staying the night to fester so Sokka knew he could say no if he wanted to, but he didn’t even hesitate.

“Of course I was serious. I mean, I’ve gotta get the ideas for our future wedding from somewhere.”

You laughed, a sentiment that had occurred more times in the ten minutes he had been here than the past week, and picked the remote for your little box TV off of your bedside table. You clicked through various movies until you found one Sokka liked, and then you cuddled deeper into his side to prepare for the ride you had ahead of you.

Thirty minutes into 27 Dresses, he had fallen asleep, arm still around you and one of his legs slightly intertwined with one of your own. But it’s not like you minded — the familiar weight of Sokka in your bed had caused all your worries to melt away, if only for the night.

You didn’t expect him to last past the first movie, but you were sure you would at least get through until Katherine Heigl got the man. But there was an overwhelming feeling of safety permeating the air with Sokka’s arms around you, and you ended up knocked out before she could even get through all twenty seven dresses.

It wasn’t lost on you how fortunate you were — he didn’t expect anything like that from you, he just wanted you to be safe. He was there for you. You would never understand how you had gotten so lucky with your boyfriend, but you would never stop being grateful for him.

this is the most self indulgent thing ive ever written and i am NOT sorry

perm tags: @dv0412 @siriuslyslyslytherin @maruchan77

atla tags: @marianne1806 @brown-eyed-thang @akiris

#sokka x reader #sokka x you #sokka x y/n #sokka fic #sokka #sokka atla #atla #avatar #avatar the last airbender #avatar fic #atla fic #sadie writes #everyone deserves him.... sokka im sorry u have 100 gfs and bfs

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attllhak · 3 years ago

Text

Adoption AU - Lullaby Reacts to Time’s Batman Level Adoption Bullshit

@tortilla-of-courage I offer you mercy. Also no one mentioned wanting to be tagged on the last story on this series so it’s just you for right now I guess.

Also, this fic is called ‘Aunt Lullaby/Uncle Sheik On Time’s Sudden Acquisition Of Kids’ in my docs, but I’ve been using the ‘Batman-Level Adoption Bullshit’ for so long that this is the title now.

Also! Some of the boys have some heavy topics to their backstories (Wars comes to mind as an example), so let me know if I need to tag this with certain warnings or stuff. Nothing is actually shown, but I figured I’d just put that out there.

-----------------

Lullaby, who was still just Zelda then, had been very excited when Time, then just Link, had called her to tell her that Malon was pregnant.

She had gotten the call first, as Link had found it important that she knew before anyone else. After everything else in his life, he said, he wanted the person who he knew would always be there for him to know first, and that he was going to be making a few other calls later that day.

Link had never had an easy life. When his father died when he was 10, he’d ended up devastated. Zelda and her Aunt Impa had found him hiding in an alley a few days after, once he’d run away from the social workers. His sister Navi had been with him, and the two were sorting through the very few bits of snack food they’d had. Link’s father had been a foster parent for a lot of strays, orphans, or abused kids needing another place to stay. Link had fallen into the orphan category, and so the social workers had planned to cycle him back into the system. He’d lost contact with his sister Saria, whom he still hadn’t found out how to make contact with again, and so all he had was Navi. Impa had taken them both in on the spot, much to the annoyance of Zelda’s father initially, but the two grew on him. Navi went missing when Link and Zelda had been 17, after an issue with a man who really had wanted to see them both dead. Link hadn’t given up hope yet, but with every passing year it looked worse and worse for her to be okay.

Zelda had known Malon from day one, and had loved Link’s wife and was so happy to see him find that bit of happiness. The one thing she knew he wanted more than anything else was to have a solid, stable family of his own.

The pregnancy was a wonderful bit of news, and she couldn’t be happier for her brother.

She had spent some time over at their house, her then-girlfriend Ruto coming as well, helping Malon with some of the housework and such since she wasn’t supposed to be doing too much of the ranch work while pregnant.

She had arrived at the hospital less than thirty minutes after she got the call that Malon was in labor, and spent the time pacing in the hall, then supporting Link when he got kicked out after panicking too much. Apparently Malon had enough of him.

She could relate.

After Link had his whole ‘we made a whole baby person’ moment where his brain short-circuited after he was handed his son, the next person who got to hold him was Zelda. A chubby baby, who slept almost the whole time. He had his mother’s nose, thank Hylia.

Zelda saw him open his eyes only once that day, and she could swear she saw in his cobalt-silver eyes that same spark in his father’s eye. Singular, since Link only had the one.

Zelda’s family had a long tradition of naming their kids after family members. Her name was her grandmother’s and her great-grandmother’s, so on so forth. Her father had been pressing to pick a family name the entire pregnancy. Her mother had kept telling him to back off a little. Fortunately, Malon’s family also had a set of passed down names, hers being one of them. So the idea of naming the child after family wasn’t a big deal for her, even if it was a different set of names.

However, there was one thing to take into account here, and that was Link’s family.

No one knew what the naming traditions in his family were, he didn’t even know his birth parent’s names. But that didn’t change the desire to find a way to work them in too.

There was only one name from Link’s family that anyone knew.

The baby was named Link.

Zelda’s father stopped complaining a week later. Her mother was very clear about it.

At Zelda and Ruto’s wedding seven years later, Link Jr. was the ring bearer.

Junior stopped being his nickname when he was thirteen.

(---)

Zelda got a call from Link Sr. about a day after it happened with a simple request.

“Who was in charge of the paperwork when your family adopted me?”

Zelda blinked once, then twice. “Come again?”

“The lawyer who arranged for my adoption, who was that?” Link asked again.

“Why?” Zelda asked, her wife leaning around the doorframe to give her a concerned look. Zelda shot her a thumbs up.

A heavy sigh came from the other end of the phone. “I think I’ve acquired another son,”

Zelda came over.

This new nephew of hers, apparently, was a sweet boy. A series of scars littered his entire left side, burn and explosive damage if she were to guess, and he had no idea how he got them. He had amnesia. The one thing he did know was his name.

His name was Link.

Zelda had to take a minute. She was trying very hard not to laugh. This was exactly the kind of luck her brother had.

“Zelda, stop mocking me, this wasn’t my call,” Link whined, though he’d never say it was a whine.

“Link, you have to see the humour here,” she gasped, waving at the two boys in the living room where Jr. was trying to show Scars how to use a lasso. This was Zelda’s idea, but she wasn’t taking responsibility for it.

Link just sighed heavily. “Link found him on the street. Malon looked into it and his parents died in a car crash a year ago, he has nowhere to go. We’ve agreed to let him stay, you understand that,”

Zelda nodded, sobering up some. “Yeah, I get that, kinda. The lawyer we hired was named Rauru, Mom should have his contact information still, you should call her,”

Link sighed, relieved. “Thank you,”

“Of course, just don’t make it a habit,”

(---)

The first inclination this would be a habit was a year later.

Wild, the younger of his sons, was in the same class as another boy named Link. This boy had lived with his uncle his whole life, and got the call his uncle died when at school. Sheik was about ready to punch someone for doing that to the boy, and just before christmas no less.

Wild brought him home, insisting he could stay at least for the holidays. The agreement wasn’t even a question, there was no way he was going to be forced to spend a holiday at an orphanage.

When Sheik and Ruto showed up on christmas day, not that their family cared much for christmas but they were all off anyways, the newest Link had been named Legend.

He was a little more shy than the others, understandably, and a little snappish.

Not a bad kid, just one grieving and in need of family. That was something their family had never hesitated to provide.

Sheik’s mother teaching him how to spin a butterfly knife was probably not the wisest decision, but considering Rottla heard a therapist say “Your kids are traumatized, they need to feel safe again,” and decided to sign them up for every martial arts she could, well, it should have been a sign that she wasn’t the best in that regard. Time, Link Sr., had made it very clear he felt Sheik took after her. Sheik had no idea what his brother was talking about.

Legend didn’t leave after that. One call to Rauru, and Legend was a permanent member of the family.

Sheik took great pride in being the favorite Uncle of Legend’s, after his late guardian of course. He pointedly ignored that he was the only Uncle, and only part-time.

Time could suck it.

(---)

Lullaby, since so many of her nephews’ friends were named Zelda apparently, received a call at five am.

True, she knew her brother and his wife woke up at sunrise to do yard work and such, but usually they were kind enough to let her sleep in.

Not so this morning.

“Wha?” She mumbled into the phone, trying, and failing, to not wake her wife.

“Zelda,” came Malon’s clipped tone through the receiver, “do you know about a missing person’s case for one Jerimiah Smith?”

Zelda blinked heavily, and had to convince herself not to go back to sleep. Who, why did Malon care? It was five am, the sun wasn’t even up yet.

“Why?” She asked to buy time, still working on a quarter of thought. Ruto rolled over and held her. Not helping, Ruto.

“I have a Link Smith in my barn claiming that his grandfather went missing, and he’s run away from a temporary foster home,” Malon explained, and okay that was worth waking up for.

Lullaby sat up, pushing Ruto’s arm from her waist to her lap, causing her wife to grumble, and turned on the lamp, rubbing sleep out of her eyes. “Okay, okay pause. Pause and back up,” she half-swallowed a yawn, squinting into her bedroom. “What is going on?”

“I got up to do some work, since Link is still asleep, and I came into the barn to find a boy asleep in the hay, here you are,” her voice dropped away from the receiver, likely talking to the boy in question, then came back. “So I found a boy in the hay, and I woke him up. He says his name is Link Smith, and he was living with his grandfather since his father was overseas in the military. His father wasn’t home enough to care for him, so his grandfather had sole custody after his mother died or something, there was a lot of tears at this part. Anyways, his grandfather went missing a week ago, and he’s been through three foster homes and none of them were very accepting of, he apparently has a ‘mental thing’ that he’s dealing with. I was wondering if you could confirm his story?”

Lullaby leaned over the bed, grumbling, and grabbed her laptop, Ruto giving up on getting her back to bed and sliding up the headboard with her to drape over her shoulders while she pulled up Firefox. “Hold on,” she told her sister in law, plugging the name into Google. Jeremiah Smith, went missing a week ago, blah blah blah, oh there we go.

Link Smith, grandson of Jerimiah Smith, left in limbo after his grandfather’s disappearance. Oh, that was interesting. According to this article, which most certainly was breaking some privacy laws and if Link Smith was staying it would be coming down, the boy had multiple personality disorder.

“Yeah, he’s telling the truth,” Lullaby said, switching the phone to her other ear so Ruto could nuzzle up better without bumping it. “Also, I found his weird ‘mental thing’. According to this article, which I’m pretty sure isn’t legal, he’s got dissociative identity disorder,”

“Isn’t that dangerous?” Ruto mumbled, still mostly asleep on her shoulder.

“No, not really. He’s actually more likely to be in danger than a danger,” she twisted to kiss her wife’s head, then went back to Malon. “He probably really needs someone who’ll be supportive enough through all this, both the disappearance and his condition. DID isn’t something easy to live with, I can see him having some issues with foster parents,” Lullaby had never been so glad that she got bored one day and decided to look it up after she heard people talk about it so negatively. You never know when information like that would be useful.

“He’s fine to take in?” Malon whispered after a moment. “I just, the other boys,”

“Will need to be patient, but unless one of his alters is particularly bad for dealing with threats, perceived or otherwise, in an unkind way then he’s fine and safe to be around. I’d ask him about that, but don’t force him to admit anything that can be bad for him, but I don’t see any more risk than taking in Wild or Legend,”

Malon sighed on the other end of the line. “Alright, I’ll bring him in and wake up Link, so he can call Rauru about all this while I sit with him and try and get him to relax,”

“Wonderful, I’ll call the office and see about what I can do about this article then. And for the record, if you ever call me at asscrack of dawn o’clock in the morning again, then next time we meet I’m clocking you,”

Malon had the nerve to laugh.

Four, as he’d been nicknamed by the time Lullaby and Ruto showed up to meet him, was a fascinating person. Green, the host of his system, was a brave, if occasionally airheaded, boy who wanted to try everything, and had been fascinated by his grandfather’s old-timey forge. Time had plans to make one in the yard for him. Red, the emotional and spiritual protector of the system, was empathetic and sweet and compassionate. No one had a bad word to say about Red. Vio, short for Violet, was the gatekeeper for the system and kept the four of them working on the same page. Bright and clever boy, his nose stuck in a book most of the time and willing to offer up the most random and yet useful information. Blue, the physical protector, was a little gruff and definitely someone you just got used to, but he cared deeply about his ‘brothers’ as they called each other, and the external brothers he acquired grew on him quickly enough too. It was a bit of a fight to get custody of him, but Rauru was the best there was, so it was only a week or two before the paperwork was going through for him.

Lullaby had a feeling this wasn’t the end by a long shot, and prayed that Hylia would be merciful about granting Time’s wish for a family.

She was going a little overboard.

(---)

Sheik wasn’t surprised in the least at the newest addition when he walked in the one day. No, mostly he was just confused as to why he hadn’t gotten a phone call before he got there.

Usually there was a phone call.

He was very upset by the way the boy looked, however.

This new addition, Warriors as he’d learn later that Time acquired yet another Link, was curled up in the corner of the couch with his scarf wrapped around him like a blanket, clearly trying not to be seen. Voices floated out of the kitchen, and Sheik picked up that Twilight brought him home, and was lobbying for a new brother.

Ah, that’s why there was no phone call.

Ruto went to investigate the conversation, so Sheik decided to introduce himself to his newest nephew.

Upon closer inspection, the boy looked about Twilight’s age, and had a bruise on his temple, maybe a day or two old now. Looking closer saw a few more on the left side of the boy’s face. Someone hit him, with purpose.

Sheik sat down next to him and said nothing, waiting for him to make the first move. Eventually, he poked his head out of his scarf.

“Hello,” Sheik offered once it became clear he wouldn’t be saying anything.

“Hullo,” he mumbled into the fabric, glancing away and back at his feet.

“My name is Sheik,” Sheik offered lightly. “Time is my brother,”

The boy looked up, eying him. “Twilight is your nephew?”

“Yes, he is,” Sheik nodded, smiling at him. “You’re a friend of his?”

The boy shrugged. “Kinda,” a beat of silence passed, then he shifted around. “He said I’d be safe here,”

“You will be,” Sheik agreed, trying to be comforting. “I can assure you of that,”

He hummed and snuggled back into his scarf.

“May I, if this isn’t overstepping, can I ask why you need somewhere to be safe?” Sheik asked after a moment.

He tensed up, eyes darting to him and at the doorway, and then back, wide eyes a little panicked.

Sheik was just about to apologize when the boy spoke.

“I ran away from home,” he admitted, looking away. “My uh, my parents aren’t, great people. I can’t go back, so I need somewhere else to go. Twi said I could be safe here, that his parents would fight for me,”

“They will,” Sheik said with enough conviction it almost startled him. “I know my brother, and he can’t turn away from someone in need, and his wife is the most strong willed woman I’ve ever met. You won’t find another pair of people more willing to go to war for you than them.”

He blinked at Sheik, then nodded, relaxing a little. “And, if my parents come for me?”

Sheik grinned. “My family is very rich, and we have a small army of very good lawyers. You won’t be going back there, I assure you,”

He smiled, and leaned over towards Sheik a little. “I’m Link,”

Of course you are, Sheik thought. He held out an arm for ‘Link’ to lean into, not getting attached to the name since it would be changing. The boy leaned into his side easily, deflating against him with a sigh. He looked so tired.

“Link,” Sheik asked carefully, watching his words. “Can I ask about the bruises on your face?”

The boy blinked up at him, biting his lip.

“They uh, my dad did that,” he admitted in a small voice, curling into Sheik’s side, and the sheikah pulled him in close to his side, hoping to provide the comfort Link was seeking. “Right before I left. I packed up and went through the window. My twin sister is still there, and I’m a little worried about her, but I can’t go back again. I, he,” he paused, sucking in a breath. Sheik rubbed his arm and side, trying to help him calm down, ignoring the tears on his shirt.

“I thought he was going to kill me,” Link finally admitted in a small, scared voice.

Sheik knew he never had very many parental instincts, and he and Ruto agreed no kids before they even got engaged, but for the first time ever Sheik felt that flare that Time and Malon described everytime something threatened their kids. It was then and there Sheik decided this boy would be part of their family, whether Time was the one who took him in or not. No kid should have to say that and mean it. No kid should be scared their parent was going to kill them.

Oh, the lawyers Sheik was planning on bringing down on whoever these assholes were would be many.

Time took the boy in, as Sheik predicted (thankfully), and sure enough the immediate support was immense. His parents never even put out a missing persons report. Sheik added child negligence to his list of growing charges to lay out.

Two months after Warriors moved in, he got a call from his sister. She got out and was safe now, and wanted to be sure he was as well. This made him very relieved. They met up once or twice, and seemed to be getting back to normal.

Two weeks later, Legend and Wild got suspended distracting Warriors’ parents so Twilight could sneak him out the back of the school. Four didn’t get suspended, but only because when Vio messed with the security cameras to cover up the escape he didn’t get caught. Time took all three out for ice-cream and junk food when he picked them up.

Lullaby saw an opportunity and took it without hesitation. Lawyers were called and organized, and without much wait there was an order for both of them to appear in court on child abuse and negligence charges. The kidnapping charge laid against them in retaliation was almost laughable.

A few weeks later, Time and Malon had full custody of Warriors pending a proper criminal trial for full punishment of his parents, at which time Linkle, Warriors’ twin sister, planned to testify as well. If they couldn’t get things settled before Warriors turned 18, then they planned to push through an adult adoption the day he did. A birthday present, Time had said. Lullaby laughed.

(---)

Sky was probably the most skittish of Time’s sons.

Lullaby wasn’t sure entirely why he was so skittish, but he was. He reminded her of a bird, or a rodent, or a cat who really, really didn’t want to interact with new people.

She had been briefed before she visited on Sky’s background. His social worker had been having trouble setting him up with a home where he’d stay for longer than a week or so, and in a last ditch effort had asked Time and Malon, with their long track record of housing troubled and unhousable youths, if they could take one more. They agreed.

Sky apparently had a friend, a bit of a troublemaker if Lullaby guessed correctly, who had gotten the two arrested. Time mentioned the event had Sky concerned about being ‘too much trouble’ and that ‘they’d get rid of him too’ or something. Time said this was ridiculous, as Sky caused him the least amount of trouble, but the boy was concerned about being thrown away again. He apparently had a few self-worth issues.

Lullaby found him on the back porch talking to the birds. Not in any human language, mind you, and Lullaby spoke many, but cooing and chirping back at them. He seemed very happy and at ease like that, singing at the birds.

“Do you mind if I join you?” She asked in a whisper during a pause in the conversation.

Sky jumped, eyes wide, and he squirmed a little when he saw her. “Uh, sure, I guess,”

She sat on the other end of the bench next to him, and calmly went back to watching the birds, and him interacting with them. He seemed much more at ease here than he did with people.

“Did you need something?” He asked, after a while, letting a blue jay grab a peanut from his hand.

“Not specifically,” she shook her head. “I had wanted to meet you, but nothing else,”

He blinked at her a little dumbly.

“Why would you want to meet me?” He asked.

“What do you mean?” She asked back, not sure what he was trying to say.

“Well, I mean, I’m not exactly special. And, it’s not like I’m staying,”

“I think you’re pretty special, most people can’t get birds to land on their hands like that,” Lullaby said gently, not liking how he spoke about himself. “And why would you think you aren’t staying?”

“I never stay,” he admitted, turning his eyes back to the birds, frowning. “No one ever considers me worth the effort,”

“You are very much worth the effort,” Lullaby countered, trying her best to keep her face soft instead of pinching up. “Trust me, however much effort you are, it is nowhere near the level of your brothers. Time wouldn’t have taken you in if he didn’t want you,”

“He’s just doing Impa a favour,” he said glumly, offering up more birdseed to the birds. “I won’t be staying forever,”

“I’m sure my brother has explained why that’s bullshit,” Lullaby said bluntly.

“But, I got arrested,” he mumbled.

“So have three of your brothers,” Lullaby pointed out. “Regularly. For much worse things. I promise you, that is not an issue,”

“But,”

“If you are going to say something bad about yourself again then I’m telling you right now I’m not going to listen to it,” Lullaby cut him off. “Time has told me a lot about you, and all of it is how much he loves you,”

“Really?” Sky looked up at her.

“You cause him the least amount of headaches of all his sons,” Lullaby smiled. “He adores you,”

Sky turned away, clearly trying to think that over.

“How about you tell me more about the things you enjoy doing,” Lullaby suggested.

“Huh?” Sky asked, turning back to her.

“I’d like to get to know more about what makes my nephew happy,” she smiled.

“Why?”

“Well, I’d be a bad aunt if I didn’t, especially since you’ll be sticking around,”

Sky looked like he didn’t believe her, but told her about his woodcarving anyways.

Lullaby was happy that as time went on Sky became less skittish and self-deprecating. He was a sweet kid, and as he got more comfortable and confident more of his true colours started showing through.

She felt a bit bad for Time, though. Apparently he was as prone to chaos as his brothers, he was just more subtle about it.

Time brought it on himself though. He should have known this when he adopted six boys.

(---)

The call about the next son had Lullaby’s head hitting her kitchen table, groaning loudly even when Ruto came to check on her.

Wild found a boy in the woods and they’d decided to keep him.

This was getting to be just a bit too much.

When Sheik and Ruto got to meet the boy, they were a bit taken aback. They had expected another Wild.

What they got was a quiet boy who mostly kept to himself. He was a bit shy, but he seemed to open up a bit more around Wild and, amusingly, Legend. He was a bit jumpy, but considering they had no idea how long he was in the woods that was expected.

What was surprising them most was that he did actually have a mother, who loved him very much, but who was very sick and so wasn’t able to actually take care of him, thus the wandering in the woods. His mother had been very worried, but physically unable to look. She had asked family to check but they gave up pretty quickly.

In light of her family being horrible for taking care of her son, and not knowing if she’d survive her illness, she asked Malon and Time if they could take care of her son for her since she clearly couldn’t trust her relatives and the boy’s father had abandoned them the moment she decided to keep him.

Time and Malon had taken one look at the boy and their sons, and agreed. They worked out an arrangement to keep the boy’s mother in the loop, and then they called Rauru. After which Time called his sibling.

This boy’s name was also Link. Sheik did not feel bad about laughing. Really, his brother had the weirdest luck.

They, for some reason, decided his nickname would be Hyrule. Why they decided to name him after the country, Sheik didn’t know. Apparently it was the only nickname he liked.

He had trouble reading, but he liked learning, especially if he could use what he learned to help people.

He fit right in, which made Sheik wonder exactly when his brother was going to stop adopting. He hoped it was before the ranch house ran out of room.

(---)

Eight. He stopped at eight.

Which was still too many, in Sheik’s opinion, but whatever.

The newest hellraiser at least didn’t come from the streets like almost all of the others.

This Link (because yes, his name was Link too) had recently lost his parents and his grandmother couldn’t financially support both him and his sister. So Time and Malon agreed to take care of him for her. The rest of their sons all acquired a grandma as well, it seemed.

They nicknamed him Wind, and he immediately latched onto his older brothers and started giving his new parents headaches.

When Lullaby and Ruto showed up next, she felt no sympathy for her brother. He brought this on himself.

She was more than a little pissed off when the brat stole her wallet though. Damn thief.

Time assured her that they’d talk to him about it. Lullaby wasn’t sure that’d help.

But, she reasoned, despite the chaos, Time was happy. Practically giddy. He lit up whenever he spoke about his sons, and he clearly loved them dearly.

Hylia had granted his wish for a family. She maybe went a bit overboard, but as long as Time was happy, so was Lullaby.

(---)

She wasn’t commenting on the ninth kid. She refused.

At least his name wasn’t ‘Link’.

167 notes · View notes

whump-a-la-mode · 3 years ago

Note

Hero and villain falling into a river together. Villain is unconscious or hurt or something so hero gets them both outta the water. They then have to figure out how to heal villain and survive in the woods.

This has the tiniest bit of angst but is mostly some fluff! This is a super interesting prompt, I hope I did it justice.

Also I’ve never seen Lost in my life.

CW//Car accidents, very unsafe driving, driving off a bridge, blood, broken legs

Nobody liked backseat drivers.

As removed from the life of a normal civilian as they were, Hero still knew that fact quite well. Powers or not, they had had plenty of experience with know-it-all acquaintances and overbearing relatives who had decided that their driving abilities could use improvement in one way or another.

Yes, backseat driving was bothersome. But that was all it was. It wasn’t dangerous.

Having two front seat drivers at once, however? Yeah, that was dangerous.

“Let go!” Villain cried out, wrenching the steering wheel to the right, threatening to throw the vehicle into a tailspin. Their position was as awkward as it was uncomfortable, kneeling in the passenger’s seat, stretched out over the center console, shoulders forcing Hero against the driver’s side door.

“You’re gonna make us crash, you daft idiot!” The hero protested, quite literally butting heads with their adversary. They, by all accounts, had the right to the steering wheel, considering the fact that they were quite literally sitting in the driver’s seat. Yet, their arms were locked in a furious tangle with Villain’s, struggling with white-hued knuckles to simply grip the damn wheel.

“You’re going to make us crash!”

“No, you are!”

“Let go of the damn wheel!”

“No!”

The two jerked the steering back and forth, back and forth, sending the car lurching back and forth like a bucking bronco.

Hero’s panicked gaze flickered in between their nemesis and the world outside the windshield. Alarms howled and metal crunched as traffic veered out of the way of the oncoming vehicle, shuddering as it was as its tires were jerked from ninety degree angle to ninety degree angle, back and forth and back and forth.

“You’re gonna kill someone!” Villain’s mouth was close enough to the hero’s face that they could feel their hot breath on their cheek.

“You do that all the time!”

“Do not!”

Despite the less-than-ideal technique with which it was being driven, the car was moving, and moving quickly. It screeched down the city’s central highway, striking traffic cones and trash cans and curbs, all in equal measure, in its rampage.

“Left!”

“Right!”

The car continued straight as both ‘drivers’ exerted as much force as they could manage onto its wheel. A pedestrian dove out of the way of the oncoming, trundling brick of metal and rubber, narrowly missing a terrible fate beneath its wheels.

For a split second, the vehicle was rendered airborne as it struck a particularly large bump in the asphalt.

“You’re going to get us both killed!” Villain snapped.

“No, you are!”

“You don’t even know-”

“What don’t I know?!”

“What street the fucking drawbridge is on, dumbass!”

Within Hero’s chest, fury was replaced by freezing, liquid cold.

“If you would have just turned left-”

“We needed to go right!”

And, yet, the car continued forwards.

It seemed as though local traffic had gotten the memo regarding the occurrence, as the street before them seemed almost suspiciously clear of vehicles.

“Come on.” Hero insisted. “There’s no way its gonna open now, right? What are the chances?”

“What are the chances that you’re an idiot who can’t see bright flashing warning lights?!”

Now that they thought about it... They had assumed the flashes to simply be from another vehicle, but-

“Shit.”

“You did this!”

“If you would’ve just let me drive-”

The duo of nemeses had their petty argument abruptly cut off by something far, far more important. To be more specific, their argument was interrupted by being in a vehicle, speeding down a road-- a road that had decided, at that very moment, to split in two. At the drawbridge’s side, a massive ferry boat honked its disapproval.

“We have to turn around, shit!” Villain hissed.

Before them, the solid, grey asphalt cracked to reveal the dark, murky depths below.

“We can’t turn around, dumbass! There’s no time!”

The villain jerked the wheel to the side, but was quickly countered. Regardless of the struggles of either side, the vehicle was staying on its path.

“Stop the car!” Villain’s foot lurched out, but missed the brake on account of its awkward position. Hero gritted their teeth-- their nemesis was practically laying on top of them!

“There’s no time!”

“Of course there’s time! What are you talking about!”

The gap was growing wider.

“We’re going too fast, we’ll never make it. We need to jump!”

“You’re insane!”

“Slow down!”

“Speed up!”

“Stop it!”

“Keep going!”

The car stayed at the exact same speed as the knot of limbs fought amongst itself. The accelerator was struck, then the brakes, then the gas, then the pedal.

And neither driver got their way.

With a pair of screaming fools inside, the car jumped the gap, and plunged into the river below.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Its easy to see cars as unstoppable, unbeatable things. Able to crush and destroy with a driver’s slight wrong twitch. Hunks of contorted, twisted metal, more than willing to maim.

And, on land, perhaps those things were true. But underwater?

The car screeched as its hood slammed into the riverbed, crumpling to a tin can with the impact alone. Contorted into a far smaller form, the river’s current swept the metal brick alone with far greater ease.

Above, the world rushed by at a million miles an hour.

Below the river’s surface, it crept along in slow motion, because Villain was not moving.

Oh, god, they weren’t moving.

Hero couldn’t care less about the alarms, the screeching lights that surrounded them. Every safety precaution had been long forgotten, they were far, far past the point of precaution.

Their nemesis was thrown around the passenger’s seat, no seatbelt or consciousness to aid in keeping them in place. The hero struggled to move closer to them, but found themself just as much beholden to the vehicle’s whims.

The car slammed once more into something, a spiderwebbing crack launching across the windshield. Water began to hiss through the fissures.

They couldn’t stay in here. The car would do more to harm them than protect them. The red, sticky fluid staining the back of Villain’s head made that fact more than apparent.

Hero sucked in an anxious breath.

They spent every day of their existence saving lives, but this was different. This was Villain.

But, letting harm come to them was out of the question.

Their nemesis was surprisingly light-- though that could have been just the adrenaline talking. With one arm, they drug the unconscious villain to their lap, holding them firmly to their chest, trying to ignore the red trickling down their neck, and the way their leg didn’t seem to quite be moving right.’

Another breath, this one deep and shuddering.

Their life as a hero would do nothing for them, here. Desperately, they struggled for civilian knowledge. An old PSA came to mind. As a kid watching it on TV it had always seemed ridiculous, but-

Wait till the car is completely submerged. That was already well taken care of.

Aid unconscious passengers. Check.

Undo or cut all seatbelts. They had been too stupid to wear any.

Then... Then open the door, and swim to the surface.

Open the door.

Just do it! Okay, on three.

1...

2...

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Villain was soaking wet.

It was the first thing they managed to notice as they struggled to jolt upright, only to find that they were already positioned in such a way.

Before their eyes were even fully open, a new instinct wracked them: The intense desire to cough. It was not an urge they could resist, and, soon, their chest was wracked as they struggled to...

Water. Water, coughing from their lungs.

They blinked, managing to open their eyes on the second attempt. Though, almost immediately, they closed them once more. They stung terribly, stinging with...

Smoke?

It was confusion that allowed them to try a thrice time, squinting to protect their eyes.

Yes, it was smoke! Grey and heavy, twisting through the air. The fire presented itself just as quickly-- small and contained, to their good fortune. An equally fortunate wind turned the singing smoke from their face, allowing them to fully see the world around them.

Trees and dirt-- a thick wood, all tangled in on its own biomass, hardly allowing them to see the dark, heavy sky hanging above.

Oh, and Hero was there.

Villain blinked, then, once their mind remembered what surprise was, yelped.

“Um...”

“Morning.” Hero lifted a hand, waving from where they sat, on the ground, behind the campfire.

“I didn’t realize you were a boy scout.”

“I’m not.”

“Then...”

“I just watched a lot of Lost.”

The hero’s gaze drifted downwards, to Villain’s legs, outstretched before them. Their own gaze followed.

A stick. On the side of their leg, secured with taut vines, was a big ass stick.

“You...”

“They did it on Lost!”

“Where are... Where are we?”

“No clue.” Hero shook their head. “But, you’re in no condition to go anywhere with that leg.”

“Then... why are you here?”

“What do you mean?”

“Your legs are fine.”

“Yeah, I know. But you’re hurt.”

“You hate me.”

“Really?” Hero raised a brow. “No one told me.”

#villain whumpee #hero caretaker #fluff #mostly #hero villain whump #prompt #ask

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curlynerd · 3 years ago

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What He Wants

Happy gift posting day for @starrynightdeancas gift exchange! My gift recipient is @bipridedean! She requested a Destiel, canon-adjacent fic, so here it is! I hope you like it! <3

Word Count: 2.6K Rating: G Summary: 5 times Dean said "I do" and 1 time he didn’t. Notes: Post canon, fix-it fic, oneshot, love confessions, Destiel wedding