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ofoceansandtombsanew · 2 years

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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 / SEQUEL

“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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hellsburners · 10 months

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orange juice

summary: you're a new library assistant in an elementary school and you cant help but fall for the cute teacher visiting your desk. pairing: teacher!peter parker x librarian!male reader word count: 2.2k (im being ballsy with these fic lengths its actually fun) warnings: none really more of fluff a/n: was in a fluff writing mood :> (might get a part 2 if it gets received well)

masterlist | more peter parker

You did everything by the book, literally. There was a handbook resting on the front desk of the library with everything you needed to do as an assistant. You took the books back to the shelves and made sure it was in the right order. You tidied up the library computers making sure every unit was logged off and the chairs weren’t a mess. You also took note of orders from the teachers, some lists from Mr. Jones, Mrs. Longford, Mr. Hayward, and Mr. Parker. You stretched your arms and legs, cracked your neck, and gave a little prayer to the universe that you wish your formal first day will be good.

Ding!

The bell on your desk pinged. A man, probably in his early 40s, stood in front of you. He wore a loose shirt with a pale pink tie, his hair was brown and sparse.

“Mr. Parker?”

“I’m sorry, I’m Roy Jones, from the math department,” he responds. You gave an embarrassed oh and gave him his stack of books.

“Sorry, it’s my first day.”

“All good kiddo, you haven’t seen trouble yet, good luck on your first day,” Mr. Jones gave a kind smile before walking away.

By 8:30 am the students came rushing to your door, you logged borrowed books, received returns, you even did the occasional hush to students being loud, it was going smoothly. The kid in front of you was borrowing a copy of The Picture of Dorian Gray, an excellent choice you thought. You scanned the QR code inside the book, logged in the student’s info and you kindly smiled while giving the book away. Hours passed of you sitting around, sipping on an orange juice box. By 11 am at least 3 students were studying.

Ding!

Oh. The man standing in front of you was tall and handsome, probably in his mid-30s, he wore a neat suit in neutral colors, and his brown hair was combed to the side. You placed your juice box down.

“Mr. Hayward?” you traced your fingers on the sticky notes on your desk.

“Parker, Peter Parker,” he replied. Shit, not again.

“I’m so sorry Mr. Parker.” you shook your head.

“First day, huh?” you nodded shamefully. He gave you a cheeky smile.

“Yeah, I’m so sorry,” you took the stack of books with the label Mr. Parker on it. He reached out to take the heavy books, your fingers were slightly touching. Your cheeks warmed from the contact. There was a certain pleasingness in his presence. You scanned the pile trying to spark a conversation. “So you teach physics?”

“Yeah, 8th and 9th actually,” he carries the books in his arms, he may look lean but you could see the way his arms flexed under his suit. “Are you new to the city?”

“Well kinda, I was born here but my family and I moved out when I was 5. I figured coming here in the city could give me more opportunities,” his brows would raise while you talked, making you feel like whatever words came out of your mouth he listened to intently. “How about you? Did you grow up here?”

“I grew up with my aunt, went to Midtown for high school, and Empire State in college. So, yeah, full-time New Yorker here,” he chuckled. “My daughter and I still live in Queens too.”

“Daughter?” you said shockingly. He looked down at his toes, and he laughed again, that soft deep laugh. “Sorry, you don’t look like one”

“I don’t look like a dad?” he said.

“I mean you look pretty young,” you bit the insides of your cheeks. “I’m sorry I must have been taking up too much of your time Mr. Parker, ‘twas a lovely chat though.”

“Oh it’s fine, I’m on lunch break anyway.” you waved him goodbye and he reciprocates the gesture. “By the way, Peter is fine, just Peter.”

He leaves, and you sit back down on your desk, your heart beating a little too fast for your liking. Your knees felt funny like they were going to give out. Oh, god. You were crushing on the physics teacher.

Before your shift ended Mrs. Longford called and said she couldn’t go to the library due to her pregnancy. You gladly said you would deliver her the books instead. On the way to her room, you couldn’t properly find her classroom, they all looked the same to you, so you went one by one, looking through the windows and checking to see if Mrs. Longford was there. By the eighth classroom, you could see him. Not Mrs. Longford, but Peter. He was demonstrating the law of inertia to the class, making a funny action of being hit in the hip by force, and the class laughed. He seems nice, and the students all listened to him, taking in every word of his lesson. It was admirable really, to have such charisma over a bunch of impressionable kids and use it to educate them.

The bell rings, and a swarm of students floods the halls. The books in your arms fall as a student bumps into you. You cursed, bending down to pick them up while a pair of arms reached out to help you. It was Peter, he had ditched the suit jacket at this point, his shirt sleeves rolled up to show his veiny arms.

“Thank you, I was looking for Mrs. Hayward’s classroom and I couldn’t find it,” you hugged the book while Peter carried the other stack.

“Mrs. Hayward’s room is in the other wing. Don’t worry I’ll walk you to it.”

“Oh no, you must have another class, I can find my way.” you try to take the books but he moves away.

“No it’s fine, my day is done. Let me walk you to her room.” he smiles, again, that pretty Peter smile.

On the way to Mrs.Longford’s room, you talked about your education, where you went to high school, and in college, and where you live now. The conversation later went to his daughter, Mayday, named after his aunt who has sadly passed. She was 5 years old and in first grade, a smart girl, he says.

You reached the 3rd door in the left wing. Peter told you that the lady with short hair and red cat-eyed glasses was Mrs.Longford, the baby bump also verified his claim. You knocked, and she waved at you with a smile, you and Peter went in to bring the books. Peter and Mrs. Longford exchanged greetings and talked about an upcoming faculty meeting. You asked Mrs. Longford to sign some papers for the book requests she had made and she obliged.

Peter walked you back to the library. You continued to chat about random things, your favorite food (he was pizza), your favorite color (he was blue), and your favorite movie (his was Interstellar). You unlocked the library and turned the lights back on. You went back to your desk and Peter took a seat at a nearby desk. You stared at him, arms crossed, legs spread.

✎𓇢𓆸

Weeks passed, and Peter had been visiting you in the library. Usually, he’d stay to check student papers or read new scientific publications on the school computers, he was nerdy about stuff like that; but most of the time, he just stayed around to talk to you. He would talk to you about Mayday’s science project, which you helped him come up with. It was an iced tea stand presentation that used butterfly pea flower tea and lemon juice, and it changed the blue liquid to a bright purple. She won a silver prize, Peter says.

Peter had mentioned before that Mayday lives with her mom and that she rarely gets to see her dad. You could see the way the line his mouth would make and how it would frown sometimes when he talked about her. You wanted to give him some piece of comfort, but every time he would smile because it was Mayday, it was his only girl.

You were at your desk enjoying a sandwich with your favorite orange juice box, Peter sat on the floor next to you hidden from anyone who came to the desk. He, too, enjoyed a sandwich you made. You scrolled through your laptop, mainly on the news.

“Hey Pete, have you ever seen Spider-man?” you said, Peter almost choked on his food.

“Spider-man?” He cleared his throat.

“Yeah, I mean you’ve been here your whole life you must’ve seen him right?” you took a sip of your drink. Peter thought long before he answered.

“No, I haven’t,” he whispered.

“Boo! You’re boring,” you threw an eraser at him.

“Hey! It’s not my fault he doesn’t swing by my apartment once in a while.”

“Well, I wish he’d come by mine, take me into his arms as we swing away into the sunset,” you waved your arms around thwipping your hands like Spider-man.

“You’re so silly,” he laughs, he takes a big bite of his sandwich, talking to you while chewing. “You know, Mayday’s been asking about you, she said she wants to thank the guy that helped her come up with her science project.”

“She said that?” you were touched.

“Well, I wanted to invite you, and she told me we haven't celebrated her win so why not invite the guy who helped her,” he finished his sandwich, wiping his mouth with a napkin. “You don’t have to if you’re busy.”

“Friday night right? I’m in.” You smiled.

You knocked at the light blue apartment door, you could hear some ruckus inside. Coming! A man’s voice yells. The doorknob turns and there he was, Peter Parker, dressed in a light gray sweater, the sleeves rolled up, and a red apron. Behind his leg was a little girl with light red hair.

“Hey there, I’m glad you could come. This is Mayday,” she was shy but she gave you a little wave and a hi.

Dinner started in a few. Peter served baked macaroni and a Caesar salad. Mayday brought a plate of cookies she made, without her dad’s help, she said (Peter shook his head). You brought a box of pepperoni pizza as per Mayday's (and Peter’s) request. The three of you talked over dinner about how proud you were about the medal and if she ever needed help you would gladly be there.

After dinner, Peter took the dishes, you went to help but he insisted you not. You were left with Mayday in the living room, she was talking about her favorite book, a book about planets. Venus was her favorite, she says. You began to talk to her about the many books you have on planets in your library and if her dad permitted, you would lend some.

“Do you like dad?” you were surprised.

“Yeah, he’s nice,” you offered her a smile, and she gave you a curious gaze instead.

“Dad is always alone.” you looked back at Peter in the sink, the fabric stretching on his back.

“You’re here,” you stroked her hair. “Your dad always tells me stories about you y’know.”

“But when I’m with Mom he’s all alone.”

“What are you two talking about,” Peter stands above you and Mayday, his hands on his hips.

“We were talking about your hair. Mayday said you’re starting to look like a sasquatch.” Mayday giggles.

A few hours later Peter took Mayday to bed. Mayday hugged you and told you goodnight. You bend down to hug her and she tells you to be Dad’s best friend, always. You were sitting on the couch with your hands on your lap. You looked around the place, filled with books and a bunch of Mayday’s stuff. It seems like Peter just lets her stuff stay there, so as not to forget about her presence. Your eyelids begin to fall as you let out a yawn.

“Sleepy?” he mutters.

“Just a bit. My head is just filled with so many facts about space,” you made a mind-blown gesture, Peter laughs.

“She does that a lot actually.” Peter sits beside you on the couch, keeping his eyes on yours.

“She’s a lovely kid,” you smiled.

“She is,” Peter sank his head on the couch, his eyes closed.

“You think I’m alone?” he frowns. “I heard you two earlier.”

“I don’t think so. You have me,” you mutter. Your hands fall on your sides meeting his. He laces your fingers with his, you could feel the warmth of his palms with your cold ones. He chuckles. “It’s pretty late, maybe you should get some rest too.”

“You’re right, let me bring you home first,” you refused.

“I’d be fine,” you assure him.

You were outside the apartment. Peter was with you in just his flip-flops, his hand never leaving yours. “I had a wonderful night.”

“Me too,’ Peter said, he took his other hand and patted your hair. You looked at him with hooded eyes, his hand falling to your cheek. You inched closer, your face so close to his chest you could smell him, like an ocean breeze. His face gets close to yours, the moment seemingly getting more tense. His thumb rubs your hand, over and over, it calms you. Underneath the moonlight, your lips meet. A tender kiss weeks in the making. Your eyes closed and you lost yourself in him. Your lips leave him a few moments later, a smile plastered on both your faces. You hail a taxi cab and when one comes, you wave him goodbye.

But you swore that night, the moment you entered your apartment, you swore you saw the Spider-man swing by, almost like he was waiting for you to come home.

part two posted here

interactions are greatly appreciated btw if u liked this fic and want more send me a prompt and i'd gladly make something from it :>

#the amazing spiderman #tasm!peter parker x reader #tasm!peter parker x male reader #peter parker x reader fic #peter parker fanfic #peter parker x male reader #peter parker fluff #peter parker x male reader fluff #spider-man fic #spider-man x reader #spider-man x male reader

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nelida-alvarez · 2 months

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A little help

@charliemwrites (please do tell if you don’t want to be tagged- I fear I’m being annoying)

Cw : smut, p in v, a little oral (as a treat) & mommy kink

It was rare for Captain Daddy’s team to be separated.

It still happened, though, which was why Nélida was calmly reading a book in her bed, Nikto and Castle probably cuddling in one of their bedrooms. Nova and Keegan had been sent on a mission together, leaving the base that much calmer and quieter in their absence.

The thing with Nova and Keegan was that they fed into each other’s chaos and fed off of it. Meaning that every time they came back from a mission spent together, they were exhausted.

As she turned a page, a knock reached Nélida’s ears. Curious, she marked her page and closed her book before making her way to the door, opening it. A visibly tired Keegan greeted her from the other side, seemingly fresh out of the shower.

“Can I come in?” He asked, his eyes droopy with fatigue. In lieu of a response, Nélida made way for Keegan to enter, closing the door behind him as he plopped down on her bed, a satisfied grunt leaving him.

“You okay?” Nélida amusedly asked, unused to seeing Keegan so subdued.

“Yeah… ‘twas just… long.” He answered, his sentence cut off by a yawn.

Nélida chuckled, sitting down on her bed, manhandling Keegan into a position that didn’t take up all the place on the bed. He threw an arm around her waist as she placed herself on her back, before burying his face in her shirt-covered breasts. Nélida huffed a small laugh before starting to card her fingers through his hair, much to Keegan’s pleasure.

“Missed you..” He said, his voice muffled, once again making Nélida softly laugh.

“I missed you too, you big baby.”

They spent a few minutes that way, Nélida almost falling asleep as the added heat of Keegan’s body made her drowsy, before he lifted his head, starting to place small kisses on her neck. She hummed, pleasantly surprised, as Keegan’s kisses started to gain more bite to them, pecks turning into hickeys and love bites.

Nélida chuckled breathlessly, wrenching Keegan’s head back with her fingers, smiling with amusement at his pout. She brought his face close to hers, pressing a heated kiss to his mouth to which he eagerly responded. Their tongues caressed each other, small noises of pleasure tumbling out from both of them.

Nélida shuffled carefully before throwing a leg over Keegan’s hip, flipping him over so she was the one on top. Grinding down her clothed core onto his hardening dick, she pressed herself close to him, the slick sounds of their making out resounding in the otherwise silent bedroom.

Nélida would never admit it, but she loved it when she got to take care of her loves. Whether it be Keegan, Nova, Nikto or even, extremely rarely, Castle, she liked being the one in charge. Breaking their mind slowly with pleasure as they did nothing but take it was something she excelled at and adored doing. Keegan especially, when he was tired, did nothing but lay down and whine like a spoiled puppy, attitude and smart-mouthing gone.

When Nélida separated from Keegan, a small trail of saliva connecting them breaking as she sat up, the man underneath her pouted, his hips bucking up into her. She tutted, pushing him back down with a hand on his chest and her weight.

“Now, now. Let’s be good, hm?”

“But mommy…”

Nélida shushed him, pecking him on the lips before sitting back up, lifting her arms to take off her shirt, her chest spilling free. Keegan reached up, taking one of Nélida’s nipples in his mouth, sucking as he looked up at her adoringly. She let him for a little while before speaking.

“Come on baby, ‘s time to let go.” She cooed, hips gyrating a little onto his bulge.

A whine left Keegan as he frowned, his expression showing he would not cooperate. With a disappointed sigh, Nélida once more burrowed her fingers in his hair, wrenching his head back. When he growled in displeasure, she clicked her tongue, brows furrowed.

“Behave.” She sternly said, waiting for the man to settle down before caressing his head and then taking off his shirt. Her slightly calloused hands caressed him, massaging his shoulders and arms, trailing over jumping muscles and rolling and flicking his nipples.

When he whined once again, Nélida chuckled, taking mercy on him by getting up and shimmying out of her pants and underwear. She laughed as Keegan’s eyes jumped up and down from her breasts to her plush thighs, glistening wet with her slick. She climbed back on the bed, taking off Keegan’s sweatpants and underwear, smirking at the wet spots marking them with his arousal.

As his cock sprouted free, proudly standing against his stomach, Nélida wrapped a hand around him, languidly stroking as she bent down to press a chaste kiss to his drooling tip. Pants filled the room as Keegan looked at her, eyes droopy now due to excitement instead of tiredness. After leaving a few teasing licks to his engorged cock, Nélida shimmied her way up his body, soft thighs parting to envelop his hips.

Both of their breaths stuttered as Nélida lowered herself onto Keegan’s cock’s side, moving up and down to coat him in her arousal. His hands quickly came up to hold her hips, arms flexing to try and get her on his cock, before being rapidly pinned down by an unimpressed Nélida.

“Mommy, please..” he whined, hands curling into fists where they rested near his head. Nélida tutted, her free hand grabbing the man’s jaw.

“Let mommy take care of you, amor.” She purred, her thumb tracing his bottom lip before retreating.

When she was sure he would behave, Nélida grinned, placing herself on top of his cock before slowly impaling herself, welcoming him easily, her hot, gummy and slick walls embracing him.

Moans left them both at the sensation, before Nélida started to move, fucking herself onto Keegan’s cock, whines and moans filling the air as well as the sound of skin slapping skin.

One of Nélida’s hands came up to play with one of her breasts as she grinded down on the Sergeant, his twitching cock and mushroomy tip hitting all the right spots. Keegan whined, the stimulation good but not enough.

“Aww, is my baby unsatisfied?” Nélida cooed condescendingly, smirking when he nodded.

“Well, we can’t have that, can we? Come on, baby, take what you need.” She purred, leaning down to place her hand on Keegan’s throat (not pressing, just making him remember who was the one in charge) as his hands flew to her hips, fucking her in earnest as he bounced her up and down.

Whines and groans left him freely as moans were breathed out in his open mouth, the feeling of Nélida’s warm and dripping pussy fluttering around him almost too much to bear. His orgasm built embarrassingly quick, months without feeling his mommy making him more sensitive than normal.

As she felt Keegan twitch inside of her, his moans becoming louder and thrusts sloppier, Nélida grinned through her moans.

“Come on, amor, come for mami..” It was all it took for Keegan to slam home into her, hot spurts of cum flooding out of his cock. He continued to fuck her through his orgasm and after, even as the oversensitivity bordered on pain. He was rewarded as Nélida’s pussy became hot, constricting him as she came, a choked-off moan escaping her as her eyes rolled back.

When she plopped down onto him, both of them panting, she smiled.

“Satisfied?” She asked, caressing his arms lightly. Instead of responding, Keegan tiredly nodded. They both hissed as Nélida lifted herself from his softened cock, a load of cum dripping out of her tender pussy.

The sergeant dozed as Nélida got up from the bed, going into the bathroom to clean herself up. She came back with a wet rag and a towel, humming as she wiped down Keegan from sweat, dried slick and cum. She chuckled as he threw both of his arms around her waist, making her tumble in bed so he could cuddle with her. Keegan placed her arms around him, once more burying his face in her tits, sighing contentedly as he settled down, falling asleep to Nélida’s light humming and her hands caressing his back.

#writing #cod mw2 #oc x character #Nélida ‘Mommy’ Álvarez x Keegan P. Russ #Nélida Álvarez #Keegan #Keegan P. Russ #Keegan Russ #Nélida x Keegan #polyamory #hints of Nélida x Castle x Nova x Keegan x Nikto #smut #dom mommy #mommy kink #dom Nélida & sub Keegan

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burningexeter · 3 months

Text

[PITCH]

Twas The Night Before And All Through

What is it —

A 2D animated Christmas horror film that's an aesthetic cross between Tony Moore's artwork as a comic book artist and 2000s/early 2010s action cartoons.

PREMISE:

Set two days before Christmas Eve in the middle of Los Angeles, California when everyone and everything is in chaos preparing for the big day with last minute touches, we follow a 25 year old single mother, Andrea Adlard, trying to raise her 8 year old daughter Sophia all on her own and give a most loving Christmas as always since it's not just their favorite holiday but also her daughter's birthday.

But Andrea isn't just some regular gorgeous blonde that your eye would catch if you passed her on the streets - before becoming what she is now which is a clerk at a law firm, Andrea was a black-belt in both karate and taekwondo and was always at the top of her class with every single one of her trophies and achievements on display in her house so it can show her daughter that if you can put your mind to something that you love, you can accomplish anything. Better yet, Andrea was the captain of the cheerleaders in high school throughout and was the best of the best, always noted for her incredible skills, agility and flexibility.

It's all of these things that Andrea is about to find out will all come full-force to her advantage at every possible opportunity there is because her life is about to completely turn upside down for good.

As Sophia is sitting on the floor watching The Nightmare Before Christmas, playing with her pet kitten Esther, Andrea is in the kitchen preparing Christmas cookies (Sophia's favorite kind) while talking with her younger sister on the phone with her shoulder holding it up when all of a sudden, the door bell rings and wonders who on earth could that be at this time.

She opens the door and to her confusement and surprise, there's three pale-skinned teenage girls with sadistic smiles that drool on their faces with a large person-sized bag they're carrying and say "Happy Halloween" before they proceed to kidnap Andrea and bag her.

To her horror, Andrea is brought to what appears to be a hidden world amongst the forests where they bring her to a twisted house on a jagged tree with crooked pipes all over the place. The girls, despite her pleas, shove her right down the biggest chute that she barely fits in. Landing down on a human-sized roulette on her back-first, we're finally introduced at long last to the main antagonist/tritagonist of this film — Verona, a gorgeous, long black-hair down past her shoulders, grey-skin, pitch-black eyes as dark as night, slender, sharp fanged vampire sorceress. Thus "The Verona Song" begins and eventually ends.

Hanging from a hook with her hands tied above and to it, Andrea (though flabbergasted, stunned and beyond horrified) demands to know what's going on, where she is and who are you most of all to the deadly, twisted, sadistic but playful femme fatale Verona. It's after a failed escape attempt that ends with Verona dragging a stuck but close to freedom Andrea back through the chutes that Verona finally reveals her true motivations once and for all —

For years, Verona has been the "Boogeyman" or rather the "Boogeywoman", terrorizing children in their sleep and in their dreams, in their nightmares. She's been the shadows whether it'd be the moonlights or cold alleyways, all the things that go bump in the night and who is the "Who?" when you call "Who's there?". She was tricked into taking over the role of the "Boogeywoman" from the woman before and has now been it for 10 straight years. However, after all this time finally, Verona has become or rather grown bored and unsatisfied with being just the Shadowwoman that lurks and stalks the night, bringing nothing but fear and screams to all the poor children that have met or witnessed her.

She's now tired of being the one who brings nothing but nightmares to children regardless of whether they're innocent or not and has now decided she no longer wants to be this, so she's now set her sights on the one thing that brings joy, cheeriness, laughter, love and happiness to everyone one and all and what used to be her favorite holiday growing up as a child back when she was human — Christmas.

This year, she'll be St. Nicholas. She's made her own sleigh out of disgusting and crooked skeleton bones and a rustic coffin, brought to life her own deformed reindeer whose faces are beginning to rot and melt away and created and wrapped and has already packed several horrific and nightmare-imducing creations with minds of their own that she calls "toys".

And why is Andrea here or what does she even have to do with any of this — because Verona wants a human who was just like her to be the first ever witness to her bringing Christmas celebration to all the boys and girls of all ages.

Obviously leading to a disaster of more-than-epic proportions with Andrea now being the only hope to save this Christmas Eve from an absolute nightmare.

Notes/Trivias/Details:

• Tony Moore's design for the character of Andrea from The Walking Dead comics will be used for the design of Andrea in Twas The Night Before And All Through because not only is too good of a design to just all of a sudden go to waste *snaps* just like that but it fits the character of Andrea here. Plus, not only is her name also being Andrea an in-joke but so will her last name Adlard. It's named after the second Walking Dead comic book artist Charlie Adlard.

• As for Verona, her influences will be quite obvious but she's made in her different way so she can really stand out all on her own into a cool, dastardly villain turned anti-villain turned anti-hero. Oogie Boogie from The Nightmare Before Christmas is the most painfully obvious influence but others that you'll clearly see with her are Eris from the crappy Sinbad: Legend Of The Seven Seas, Selina Kyle/Catwoman from Telltale's Batman series, Poison Ivy from The New Adventures Of Batman & Robin and finally Shego from Kim Possible. The difference with her that makes her standout is that she has a code such as never harming or killing a child or never psychically harms Andrea and instead just toyfully plays with her in the most sick and bombastic ways.

• As for the animation style of it, what I said way above will be exactly like that but with more elaboration on it. In terms of the character designs and action sequences, they'll be an incredibly fluid and expressive without going too overboard take on the artwork of Tony Moore right down to the big upper lips on the women characters since it gives it its own unique style and look to make it stand out all on its own. It's like nightmare-induced horror comic book came to life that just so happened to be taking place and is set on Christmas Eve.

• There's also a strong use of color and contrast, everything involving the outside world is as warm, welcoming and most of all, colorful as can be since it's Christmas and represents the bloody cold on the outside and the refreshing warmth by the fire inside. Meanwhile, all of the things past the forests and with Verona are all the exact opposite - it's dark, gothic, macabre and twisted with any sort of color from here or there popping out.

• What will make this movie stand out is the unexpected ending but hopefully in a good way, in a way that's actually interesting is that after it appears to be finally over with both Verona and Andrea having been shot down and landing in a graveyard by themselves, Verona mourns with her face down having realized her failure and what she's done while an outraged Andrea scolds her for everything she's done. It's then that Verona pins Andrea to the floor and on the verge of tears, tells her she thinks she may know her completely but she's wrong. She had her life stolen away from her by a witch as she was too vain and egomaniacal back then and was punished for the terrible person she was. Now she finally had a chance to do something good for once in her now miserable life, she always remembered the faces that she made as a child whenever she would open up a single present on Christmas Day and wanted to bring that sense of joy to other children that were like her including Andrea's daughter, Sophia.

The two of them manage to reconcile and make an agreement — Andrea uses a spell she discovered to restore all the broken toys and create new ones that this time are wonderful, ordinary Christmas gifts that all children want and she helps Verona deliver the gifts to set things right and save Christmas.

Which is exactly what happens.

After finally reuniting with her daughter who is now in good hands, Andrea finds to her shock yet again that Verona is in her living room and decides to propose another deal and it's this time to Andrea — since she was the only person by far who has actually been able to impress her, that she and Andrea should team up together with Verona now having entirely new ideas on how to terrorize children. A disgusted Andrea rejects this but unfortunately for her, Verona is not taking no for an answer. She lunges towards her and gives Andrea a great big kiss on the lips than her body parts instantly fall apart in a grotesque way and of course, she's still alive and moving. A screaming Andrea runs up to her bedroom with Verona in hot pursuit (especially her head), she makes it but now has to hold the door in terror from opening as Verona and her body parts are trying to open it from the outside all while Sophia, who's sleeping in her mother's bed, wakes up in confusion to see what's going on in front of her.

The camera slowly moves from the inside of Andrea's bedroom where all this horrifying chaos is occurring to the outside and later above view of their neighborhood streets and how the Spirit of Christmas has returned to everyone, especially the good little boys and girls, but unfortunately all at the expense of a young woman named Andrea Adlard.

Now here's the big reveal or surprise:

After the effective final shot of children and adults celebrating and in-joy, cheering now that Christmas is saved with Andrea's screams having fainted away and is no longer heard whatsoever even in the slightest bit possible, it dissolves into a large campfire with a ticking watch clock striking 12 o'clock at midnight being closed and a femme fatale voice going "And that's the end".

The camera pulls up after that to reveal it's none other than Charmcaster from the Ben 10 series, UAF Charmcaster to be specific, telling a rather dark scary campfire story to none other than Gwen Tennyson and her Aunt Sandra Tennyson who are both shocked at how the story was.

It's revealed that Twas The Night Before And All Through was all along a campfire story being told by Charmcaster in an alternate Ben 10 reboot universe.

The reason I'm doing is because there's a few connections here - Andrea's design from Tony Moore's art in Robert Kirkman's The Walking Dead, Gwen Tennyson has gotten a lot of comparisons to Atom Eve in both Robert Kirkman's Invincible comics and TV show and top it off, I wanted just one more bang for the film and especially the story to leave an impression on you or to whoever watches it if it actually gets made one day hopefully.

Kari Wahlgren, Ashley Johnson and Beth Littleford will obviously reprise their roles as Charmcaster, Gwen and Sandra with the end wraparound being in the same style as UAF but with more expressiveness and fluidity and the setting being a campfire out in the middle of the desert at night. Boy oh boy, that will most likely kill you for real in real fricking life!

#Christmas #horror #the walking dead comics #tony moore #oogie boogie song #gwen tennyson #charmcaster #sandra tennyson

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dujour13 · 4 months

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Secret Santa gift for my friend @offsidekineticist. Happy Holidays! 💕☃️💕

I hope you know I had to enlist the aid of both Ophenia and Woljif to piece this story together. Oh, that reminds me—(Siavash digs in his vest pocket and produces one silver bracelet, twelve gold pieces and a Chelish noble house signet ring)—with Woljif’s apologies. No questions asked about the ring.

I hope I got the main story beats right enough for art.

The half-orc druid I eventually tracked down in the Aspodell mountains told me Qweck was involved, but even my utmost attempts at diplomacy couldn’t prevent Qweck from slamming the door in my face, so I’m not sure where she fits into the story. There was also apparently a dinosaur? Or a golem made of dinosaurs? Anyway, here it is, as promised.

(He takes a sip of mulled Andoren wine and gives you a wink as he begins.)

🎶 The Ballad of Bellflower Hellfire 🎶

The Devil went down to Cheliax, she was lookin’ for a soul to steal She was biding her time at the scene of the crime In a gem that was magically sealed When Gil came across that necklace, offering vengeance and serving it hot And the devil grabbed hold of his heart in her claws And said boy lemme tell you what I guess you’ll do ‘bout anything to give them slavers their due And if you vow to serve me now I’ll lend a hand to you Now you’d make a damn fine Bellflower, boy All I ask is a soul or two I’ll bet the slaves you’ll free are worth that fee And it was true for all he knew And so the halfling set about with the fury of Hell in his hands Without a regret started paying his debts Freed his folk from their iron bands (Chorus) Gilly sharpen up your wits and fight that devil hard Cause Hell’s broke loose in Cheliax and the devil deals the cards And if you win you get the peace and freedom that you’re owed But if you lose the devil gets your soul Twas a rainy night in Brastlewark and Thay sat with his book And he heard the sound of rustlin’ around and went to have a look There stood Gil ‘bout to catch a chill And Thay in his distress, said come on down, you look half drowned And bundled Gil up good And thus began the heart-bond ‘tween the halfling and the gnome In the shadow of Thrune their sweet love bloomed, over cocoa snug at home (There’s a break with romantic picking, then a shift to an ominous chord) Til one dark day the news reached Gil that made his heart stop cold The iron glove of Hell came down and crushed all Gilly’s hope The Hellknights came, they were taking names, Mister Theo was their prey Gil shed tears of grief and rage - the Rack had taken Thay And Gil like Hell’s own vengeance on the wings of dragon black Rained down on Rivad fury and fire and laid to waste the Rack The only reclamation that was glorious that day Was Gil who stormed the citadel and rescued poor dear Thay (Chorus) Gilly sharpen up your wits and fight that devil hard Cause Hell’s broke loose in Cheliax and the devil deals the cards And if you win you get the peace and freedom that you’re owed But if you lose the devil gets your soul Thay in gloom of dungeon hoped for nought but Ph’rasma’s grace He held his ground, made not a sound as tears fell down his face The Rack had wrought their cruel work and yet his lips were sealed All he cared to pray for was an end to his ordeal When a signifier’s shattered mask was tossed between the bars And Theo raised his eyes and hope rekindled in his heart A little short for a Hellknight, Theo said through tears of joy Though they were trapped within the citadel the righteous would destroy In a desperate race for freedom the heroes stumbled toward the gates Paladins and Hellknights laid the citadel to waste As knights closed round Gil stood his ground o’er Theo’s tortured form As in his breast the fires of Hell let loose in violent storm (from this crescendo the tempo slows, becomes soulful) When Theo felt the heat of Hell and raised his heavy head And saw that Gil had rescued him but damned himself instead With failing limbs he lifted up and braved the flames of Dis To wrestle Gil from the Devil’s grasp and free him… with True Love’s Kiss (Chorus) Gilly sharpen up your wits and fight that devil hard Cause Hell’s broke loose in Cheliax and the devil deals the cards And if you win you get the peace and freedom that you’re owed But if you lose the devil gets your soul

---

Note: Modeled after “The Devil Went Down to Georgia” by the Charlie Daniels Band

#help i am neither a bard nor a poet (hiding behind my oc)#happy holidays!!#friends' ocs #pwotr pals #giliys #theo #theo & giliys #reading back through the breakup arc to prepare this was SO much fun #what a beautiful story ❤️#i love these two dearly #and qweck who got a bit short changed i'm afraid sorry qweck #Spotify

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losercade · 5 months

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My mom got me to watch the league of extordinary gentlemen bcoz jekyll + hyde are in it. Afterwards I nitpicked every part w/ jekyll and hyde and then infodumped about the book! <- twas a good movie though! :]

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merry-boberry · 7 months

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Title: Yon Bonnie Banks

Fandom: Call of Duty: Modern Warfare II (2022)

Pairing: Simon "Ghost" Riley x John "Soap" MacTavish

Tags/CW: Canon-Typical Violence, Pre-Relationship, Songfic, Rescue Missions, Hurt John "Soap" MacTavish, Simon "Ghost" Riley Loves John "Soap" MacTavish

Available here on AO3 if you prefer, otherwise, fic is below. This was written for the #SongficSeptember event on not-twitter, link here.

Summary:

While waiting for Soap's return from a mission with another unit, Ghost receives some unwelcome news. Soap has been captured, and Ghost will make sure he comes home.

‘Twas there that we parted, in yon shady glen,

On the steep, steep side o’ Ben Lomond,

Wher’n soft purple hue, the highland hills we view,

And the moon coming out in the gloaming.

The helicopter never arrived.

No rotors broke the quiet of the night to announce that Soap was finally back on base after being lent out to another unit for a week.

No punches to his shoulder or tired hellos from his sergeant after being worked like a dog out in the field.

There was no Soap.

Ghost knew, because he had been waiting out on the tarmac for hours, even beyond the point where he'd admitted to himself that Soap wasn't coming. All he could think while he stood out there in the cold, just one dark, lone figure under the harsh light that illuminated the asphalt, was what if he gave up and that was the moment Soap landed? What if he landed and there was no one waiting for him?

That misplaced hope that Soap would still show up didn’t stop the way his frenzied thoughts were racing through his tired mind. Had something happened? Was he okay? His sergeant was extraordinarily capable, had proven his skill and competence a hundred times over since they’d started working together, but for all that he was an incredible operator and had a way about him of pulling Ghost in, Soap wasn't infallible.

Johnny wasn't invincible.

Finally though, Price had found him out there, and just by his furrowed brows and worn expression under that boonie hat, Ghost knew there was bad news coming his way.

His chest tightened until he could barely breathe, but breathe he did, slowly and purposefully through his nose and out through his mouth while he waited for Price to tell him that this brief period of happiness brought on just by being in Johnny’s presence, a bright spot in a dark life, was over.

Price must have read him like a book because he started with, "he's not dead."

"Then where the fuck is he?" his voice came out harsh and grating. 'Not dead' left a lot of room for the worst possible scenarios Ghost’s mind could conjure. Captain was a smart man, he knew what this meant for Ghost. What Ghost was thinking, feeling.

If Johnny was broken, they needed to fix him.

If Johnny was missing, they needed to find him.

If Johnny was gone, well…

"We're working on it," was all Price said.

That wasn't an answer, and the captain damn well knew it.

"Not good enough. What happened?" he demanded, and Price sighed, his breath a plume in front of him in the cold.

"The squad in charge of clearing his path didn't do their bloody job right, and think a team of hostiles got behind him," the disgust in Price's voice was palpable, and no wonder. Fuckin' incompetent bastards, the whole lot of them, to miss an entire team like that.

And Soap, fuck, he was a force of nature in his own right, but taken unawares by an entire team?

"And didn't stay close enough to provide back-up? Where the fuck was overwatch?" Ghost ground out; the words felt more like broken glass being crushed against concrete than a function of his vocal chords.

"Too busy watching him get captured to do their job, apparently," Price replied with a huff, fingers twitching towards his chest pocket. In search of a cigar, most likely. Something to dull the edge of the frustration he had to be feeling.

Captured. Not killed.

There was a chance.

"We'll get him back, Simon."

"What the fuck is he saying?"

"Something about a road, I think."

O ye'll tak' the high road, and I'll tak' the low road,

"Fuck does that even mean?"

And I'll be in Scotland a'fore ye,

"How the fuck am I supposed to know? He just keeps goin' on about a road and Scotland."

But me and my true love will never meet again,

"For fuck's sakes, he's just singing some bullshit about his girl back home."

On the bonnie, bonnie banks o' Loch Lomond.

"Least he knows he's never seeing her again."

"Poor bastard."

It took thirty-eight hours to acquire John "Soap" MacTavish's location.

Two thousand two hundred and eighty minutes until they knew where his sergeant was being held captive, another eighty-two minutes before they had a plan for entry and exit, and fifteen minutes to get fully geared up and ready to hit the transport.

Two thousand three hundred seventy seven minutes too long.

The transport felt both like it would never end and like it was passing too quickly, and seventy-six minutes later they were piling off the helicopter and adjusting their gear one last time before setting off into the forest, moving quietly under the cover of night.

The compound Soap was being held in had seen better days, certainly, and looked like a doomsday prepper's wet dream. Chain link fence all around a cluster of buildings in the wilderness that they had spent forty-five minutes trekking to on foot so the helicopter didn't give away their presence and remove the element of surprise. Within the chain link perimeter there were vegetable gardens and cinderblock buildings littering the space, with generators and solar panels powering the spotlights that kept the compound lit.

They made it a pain in the arse to cut the power, so the plan was to stick to the edges and remove the patrols instead.

Price had tasked Ghost with leading the way on infiltrating the building where Soap was most likely to be, and infiltrate Ghost did. Back to working alone for this part, he crept down each hallway, systematically moving from room to room to silently dispatch anyone in his way. Whether they were a combatant or not, they were an obstacle between him and his sergeant, and that meant they needed to be removed. Simple as that.

Finally, Ghost had cleared the majority of the building, leaving this one door in front of him. It sat cracked open an inch, just enough for him to hear rough voices speaking in accented English. Not American - Canadian, maybe? Bit strange to hear in remote woods of not-Russia, but maybe that was exactly the reason.

"Look, we know the fucker is in the SAS, and we know there are others,“ the first voice said. Sounded a bit reedy, like someone who had serious smoking habit and coughed when he laughed.

"And you were tasked with getting more out of him than that,“ the second voice said, tinny and poor quality like it was coming from a phone speaker. Sounded like he had some level of authority. He’d pocket the phone - might prove useful.

"We tried askin' nicely, and tried askin' a little less nicely, but the stupid asshole spat in my face and said nothing,“ the first voice was edging into the realm of irritating whinging. Ghost couldn’t help but appreciate that even in such a grim spot, Soap was still Soap.

"You ask about his partner, the big bastard in the skull mask?"

"Said he was choosin' the low road. He was singin' about that earlier too, maybe."

"And you didn't mention that sooner because…?"

"Thought he was croonin' about his sweetheart," a new voice cut in, deeper than the other’s and defensive.

There was a pause.

"You fucking idiot."

"What'd we do?“ the deeper voice asked, and Ghost could hear anger joining the defensiveness.

"It's what you didn't do - look up the words to that song,“ the voice snapped from the shitty phone speaker.

"It's just some fuckin' love song,“ the raspy, deeper voice was more dismissive than defensive now.

“Well, the funny thing about words is this: they can have more than one meaning. He's been telling you he'll die before he talks,” the phone voice positively dripped condescension and there was a part of Ghost that could appreciate that Soap was telling them to fuck off in one of the strangest ways possible.

"Time to give him what he wants, then,“ the thin, reedy voice said with a smug chuckle that trailed into a cough.

"He's close enough to dead already. Won't take much,“ the deeper voice said.

The call ended, and Ghost had heard more than enough.

The leather of his glove creaked as he gripped the knife in his hand tighter, rage and sheer terror simmering uncomfortably in his gut. A gun would be faster, but a gun brought distance between him and Soap's captors that he didn't want. No, this was personal, and the knife would be perfect for the job. They would not get the opportunity to finish off his sergeant, not while he was here.

Ghost crept forward, eyes and ears trained on the door before him. Once he was close enough, he could make out two men within, each looking like a caricature of their accents with dirty, faded denim and plaid shirts on. They looked more like they belonged on a farm or shotgunning beer while they chopped wood than playing at being terrorists in the backwoods of not-Russia, what with the fact he couldn’t see a single piece of tactical gear between the two of them. Were they even armed?

The fuck kind of operation was this?

Not that it mattered. They were between him and Johnny, and were getting ready to kill his sergeant, and that was what mattered.

In a sudden surge of motion, his foot met the door, kicking it open with enough force to bounce off the wall. He was already through it by the time either of these assholes realised what was happening, knife up and ready.

The thin one with the reedy, irritating voice was the first to go down, his throat slit open and pouring blood even as he reached for a hunting knife on his belt that had been hidden under his jacket.

The second one was shorter with a stocky build, like he was accustomed to hard, physical labour. But that raw strength had nothing on Ghost, and even as the bastard spun and went for a battered handgun tucked into the waistband of his jeans, Ghost had already grabbed him by the collar and delivered a series of harsh stab wounds to his chest.

He left the bastard laying on the floor to bleed out, his laboured breaths gurgling in his chest, and was going for the only other door in the room when he paused.

The phone. If they could run a trace on the phone, they could find who was in charge of this.

He could find who’d given the kill order.

He could make them regret ever even hearing about his sergeant.

The phone had been left on a desk that was well-past seeing better days, and Ghost had it snatched up and pocketed within seconds before he turned his attention back to his ultimate goal.

The door handle was in as good of shape as the rest of the compound, and was sticky and stubborn when he turned it, but it still opened. It left him wondering what kind of shape his Johnny was in, that they hadn’t even bothered to lock the door behind them?

For the first time in two thousand five hundred and thirty five minutes, Ghost clapped eyes on his sergeant, and it left him wishing he hadn’t killed the two men on the floor as quickly as he had. The way Johnny had been strung up, his hands chained above his head high enough that his shoulders were risking serious damage and his bare toes barely getting any purchase on the dirty tile floor had Ghost wishing he could do it all over again, but slower. More painful. Let them see that the big bastard in the skull mask had come for his sergeant.

Johnny’s head hung down so his chin rested against his bloody chest, and for one awful moment Ghost thought he'd been too late, until he saw the barely-there movement of his sergeant's bruised ribs.

Before he could rush to the man's side and help him down, Ghost heard a murmur of sound.

"The wee birdies sing," Johnny's voice was a broken rasp of noise, and the most beautiful thing Ghost had ever heard. "And the wildflowers spring."

He stepped further into the room on quiet feet, listening intently as Soap continued.

"And in sunshine the waters are sleeping," if Johnny heard the door open, he gave no indication of it. "But the broken heart it kens nae second spring again, though the waeful may cease frae their grieving."

Ghost's next step towards his sergeant was purposefully loud, echoing in the small room. Johnny froze, then slowly lifted his head to meet Ghost's dark gaze with beautiful, familiar, deep blue eyes in a bruised and battered face.

"Ghost," he breathed, his pained expression melting into such sheer fondness it stole the breath from Simon’s lungs. "Should've known it'd be you."

He cocked his head at his sergeant in silent question.

"To bring me home," Soap said by way of explanation, a soft sigh escaping his cracked lips. He was here to take Johnny home, but he got the distinct sense that wasn't what he meant.

"I'm glad it was you, Ghost," Johnny's voice was fading, his eyes closing. "The low road... I'll be in Scotland... a'fore ye... thought I’d not see my true love again…“

His true love? He didn’t mean…?

"You're not dead yet, sergeant," Ghost finally said as he reached for Soap's bindings.

But Johnny was unconscious, a smile playing his bloody, cracked lips, and Ghost would hold those ramblings close to his heart.

O ye’ll tak’ the high road, and I’ll tak’ the low road,

And I’ll be in Scotland a’fore ye,

But me and my true love will never meet again,

On the bonnie, bonnie banks o’ Loch Lomond.

#call of duty #simon ghost riley #john soap mactavish #ghostsoap #ghoap #soapghost #fanfiction #really hope this doesnt completely flop lmao

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sugarywishes · 8 months

Note

//SPOILERS for the GGY book (Even though it came out ages ago)

I just discovered this account, so I'm not sure if this has already been asked but what do you think about the "Gregory is Patient 46/GGY" idea? Got any thoughts, theories or headcanons about it?

Well I've gotta say. It is indeed, an idea.

Like okay, knowing me, I should be foaming at the mouth about this idea. Like HELL YEAH THE POTENTIAL ANGST THIS CAN CREATE!! THE DUALITY OF GOOD AND EVIL THAT CAN FIGHT INSIDE GREGORY AND LEAD TO CHARACTER DRAMA!!

But for some reason, I just don't think this idea works for Gregory?? Like on top of being a surprisingly tech savvy homeless preteen, HE'S ALSO A MURDERER AND MASTER HACKER!! It's almost giving me a nostalgic whiplash back to those edgy overpowered ocs you'd find on fnaf deviantart or God forbid QUOTEV CREEPYPASTA 😭😭

I also think that if it does end up canon, then the hatred for Gregory can now be validated as just and canon "We can hate him because he's canonically evil!!" Even Vanessa and WILLIAM are accepted as innocent babies who do no wrong but Gregory is PURE EVIL according to them ❗❗❗🔥🔥🔥

Also, how can ANYONE die to this small, 12 year old boy? Believe me I was a kid once too (twas a long time ago,,) and I could bite and scratch sure, but kill?? C'mon. You're telling me this probably malnourished (as implied in game) boy can kill grown adults? Not one of them thought of punting him out of existence?? HE'S LIKE- CHUCKY SIZED YOU CAN BEAT HIM

I'm still lowkey wishing at least the Mimic is the only book thing in the games (Absolutely hate the fact that its Canon now but I've unfortunately accepted it, kind of like a disgruntled step parent to the step child yk??) and I'm still hoping Vanessa is patient 46 as was originally implied in the OG version of SB (presumably, might have to rewatch the gameplay again)

But besides all that, as for theories/headcanons...

IF GREGORY CANONICALLY MURDERED HIS PARENTS AS DR. RABBIT I CAN AND WILL SCREAM MY LUNGS OUT 😭😭😭 I can't imagine how fucking tragic that would be!! Like sure it's almost Batman villain levels of insane BUT IT WOULD BE CRAZY

I do sadly expect they'll confirm P 46! Greg in HW2. Or at least they'll put GGY references in the game. I'll be very upset if it does happen BECAUSE I'LL HAVE TO REWRITE MY AUS AND TIMELINES ONCE MORE 💔💔

While the idea of Gregory manually killing people himself is funny (because again, tiny child vs fully grown adult, they can totally kick his ass!!) He probably used the robots as his minions (I actually do think that's what happens in the books?? But I've never read them so I don't quite know) (AND I'M NEVER GONNA KNOW!! GOOSEBUMPS IS SUPERIOR!! 💪🗣❗🔥)

Thanks for asking! If anyone wants more just ask!!

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elliewiltarwyn · 19 days

Note

For the ask game: Ellie’s thoughts on Urianger?

(this shot's a repost from Roevember's "elezen pal" but I mean, it's relevant!)

Ellie and Urianger get along shockingly well, to everyone's surprise including their own! One would think the most direct, straight-to-the-point Scion (at least up there with Alisaie) and the wordiest beating-around-the-bush playing-both-sides-so-he-always-comes-out-on-top Shakespeare-ass nerd would get along like a house on fire... but they have more in common than they realized at first.

Both spent much of their childhood with their nose buried in one tome or another. Both needed someone who legitimately just cares for them as a person to withdraw from that shell. After ARR, both have lost those dearest ones to machinations beyond their control...

That all being said, none of this means that they hung out together all that much before ShB, or started out that way; they only really started talking after, of all things, the showdown with the Warriors of Darkness -- after Urianger revealed both the depths of his duplicity and his unwavering commitment to the Scions' cause. After Urianger's manipulations that offered up Minfilia's life -- Ellie's aforementioned dearest one -- as the coin to pay to save two worlds, though by his own admittance, 'twas not his to give.

Ellie probably did punch him for that.

She just didn't stop there; they got to hashing it out, and Ellie found herself truly listening to him for the first time, and she realized that the grief he felt over Moenbryda and Minfilia both is just as strong as her own. She gets him some ice for his face and asks him about them, and lets him drone on for the next several hours about how incredible they were. (She also gets him some wine partway through. She politely declines to share it with him.)

They keep talking after that night and keep sharing in that grief, and then start sharing other discussions about other subjects beyond that which initially connected them. Things like Sharlayan, like favorite books. Like where he picked up his manner of speech. Like her own failed ambitions to study at the Studium, and the subjects she had wanted to research while there. By the time she, the twins, Lyse, and Tataru get on the boat to Kugane, she feels fairly confident in calling Urianger a good friend, and she's willing to give him the benefit of the doubt.

It's tested, admittedly, when he gets up to similar shenanigans later. But she can tell his apology is earnest and from the heart and that he really truly means it when he says he doesn't want to lie to her anymore, that if he had a choice he wouldn't, so she just claps him on the shoulder and smirks at him before dropping it entirely. (Besides, it's not like it was his idea to hide the truth of his Eighth Umbral Calamity vision. Though in the end she doesn't have it in herself to begrudge G'raha either.)

(And gods, seeing Bloewyda hug him in the sort of way she's desired to help cope with her own losses? She's happy for him but there's a slightly bitter taste in her mouth at the same time.)

She might be slightly trying to push him and Thancred together, especially after she sees how they dote on Ryne. But she's also content with the bromances they all share with each other.

or broemances. eh? ehh? ehhh--[i am yanked offstage by the neck with a shepherd's crook]

#final fantasy xiv #ffxiv screenshots #ask games #urianger augurelt #my ocs: ellie wiltarwyn #for a decent summary of ellie's relationship with not just uri but all the tall male scions...#there's an old-ass QC comic where the main characters have a bro moment in a bar or something similar idk it's been years #and three Extremely Massachusetts Dudes pop up outta nowhere and start pumping their arms and chanting “BROS BROS BROS BROS”#anyway yeah that's ellie and the male scions.#oc loreposting

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notepadsandtealeaves · 10 months

Text

Dick Grayson x GN!Reader in: The Curious Case of the Lovers in the Library

MINORS/AGELESS BLOGS DO NOT INTERACT || 18+ ONLY ||

|| Ao3 Version ((link pending)) | F!Reader version ||

|| Dick’s Tag | Batboys M.list | Batboys Tag | Personal Blog ||

|| The sequel: The Penalty Round ((V. spicy, 18+ only)) || || F!Reader (Ao3) | GN!Reader (Ao3) | M!Reader (Ao3) ||

↠ Requested By: No one, twas a gift to a friend ↠ Reader Gender: Neutral ↠ Content Type: SFW ((but my blog’s 18+ so minors need to shoo)) ↠ CWs/TWs: None ↠ Prompt: “They’re hiding behind the sofa.” ↠ Total WC: 1.9k~

“Hm, well I suppose you could hide here. Behind the sofa,” he clarifies, patting the ornate cushioning that currently cradles him for further emphasis when you give him a confused look. Your confusion, however, soon gives way to an arch sort of glee that he frankly finds unacceptable as you coo out some nonsense about him being ‘sweet’. His eyes narrow dangerously at your tone. “Do not make that face at me, ____, I am not ‘sweet’. Know that I do this for myself, not you. The most expedient way to regain even a fraction of my peace is to humor you, and even knowing that this offer is still being made against my better judgement.” “Aww, and here I was thinking you had a heart,” you say on a sigh. This, as well as your accompanying pout, is met with a distinct lack of amusement. “Do you intend on standing there making quips until you are discovered, or will you take me up on my extremely generous offer. An offer whose expiration is steadily creeping closer, mind you.”

↠ When you and your lover decide to play an extreme version of hide and seek shenanigans ensue. Damian, unsurprisingly, is not impressed.

Here’s the long overdue gender neutral version of the og fill! Said fill can be found on my personal blog, and while I contemplated putting the GN versions on there too, I figured this was a good way to direct eyes to my writing blog since I’ve basically been MIA for the whole of the year.

It should also be said that there won’t be any M!Reader options this time around as the entry for this collection could’ve been GN from the start. In truth I would make the whole collection purely GN, but since these were initially written for a lady-type friend I feel it would be wrong to scrap the F!Reader version entirely. That said, there’re literally no major changes to the story aside from pronouns, so I do not see the point in further differentiation. However, if enough people request it I can make an M!Reader version, but again, all it’ll do is turn she/they to he/him.

Also, also—it’s gonna be a bit before this goes up on Ao3 as I’m still trying to figure out how I want to format things over there.

|| The Curious Case of the Lovers in the Library

Damian looks up from the book he’s been reading with an arched brow. Under normal circumstances seeing a civilian panting and frantic would give rise to his protective instincts, but the flush to your cheeks is a warm one and the glint in your eyes amused, if a bit pleading. It takes you far longer than it should to notice him and the Great Dane at his feet, but to your credit you do not allow your shock to register over much.

“I can only assume that you and Grayson are playing at yet another inane game?” he asks as he marks his page with a finger.

Your responding nod is a bit absent as your eyes dart about the breadth of the library. “Yeah. Hide and seek, extreme edition.”

“And what, pray tell, makes it ‘extreme’?”

“The uhhh… penalty round…”

You fluster visibly as you utter the words. He does not inquire further.

Though large, the room offers little in the way of concealment. The heavy velvet curtains are too obvious a spot while the statues are too narrow to hide anything from even the most cursory of glances; likewise the bookcases are hardly a viable option given their positioning and spacing, and the overly high legs of the oversized furniture render the pieces just as ineffective for your purposes. He points all of this out to you with a bland aplomb that leaves you huffing out your frustrations.

“Well that’s just great,” you mutter as you continue to search for harbor in vain. “I didn’t see him, or hear him, for that matter–”

“As well you shouldn’t,” the boy sniffs. While he may not possess the former assassin’s level of skill, Richard still spent the better part of his childhood and adult years under Father’s tutelage—if you actually had been able to detect him he’d be greatly remiss.

“Yeah, yeah—you’re all living shadows, I get it,” you continue on with a roll of your eyes. “What I’m trying to say is, even though I couldn’t sense him I know he was right on my ass, Dames. There’s no getting out of this room without getting caught, and I’m really not trying to lose this thing.”

Though he is thoroughly convinced that your competitive streak is going to get you in trouble someday he cannot help but to find it a bit winsome. Not that he’d ever tell you that. No, instead he chooses to offer you the help that you desperately need—an unexpected concession, but apparently he’s feeling generous this afternoon.

His eyes narrow dangerously at your tone. “Do not make that face at me, ____, I am not ‘sweet’. Know that I do this for myself, not you. The most expedient way to regain even a fraction of my peace is to humor you, and even knowing that this offer is still being made against my better judgement.”

“Aww, and here I was thinking you had a heart,” you say on a sigh. This, as well as your accompanying pout, is met with a distinct lack of amusement.

“Do you intend on standing there making quips until you are discovered, or will you take me up on my extremely generous offer. An offer whose expiration is steadily creeping closer, mind you.”

He has barely finished the final sentence before you’re diving behind the sofa with a flurry of no’s followed by hasty word of thanks. The sudden movement is enough to pull his companion from his slumber. Startled, Titus’ woofs loudly as his head whips from you to his master and back again, and it’s only his familiarity with you that keeps him from doing more. A few good scratches behind his pointed ears from the boy is enough to see him calmed, though your continued maneuvering does have him sniffing at you with a weary sort of curiosity. When you finally settle down behind him he too relaxes in full, allowing sleep to once again claim him with a swiftness that only the most trusting of creatures can manage.

It takes well over twenty seconds after that for your breaths to even out into something less obvious than the laughter-laced huffs they start out as—hardly an acceptable showing, but to be expected given the circumstances, the vigilante supposes. In yet another uncharacteristic display of unspoken solidarity he in turn syncs his own breathing with yours, thusly lowering your chances of detection by at least another twenty percent or so.

The space returns to the peaceful lull it had been in prior to your entry, though this isn’t to last—can never last when the humanoid Labrador that is his brother is around. The eldest Wayne child bounds though the door with a shout of your name followed by a breathless laugh. Damian can only assume that said breathlessness is due to the joy that he always seems to exude when he so much as thinks of you and not because of any legitimate strain on his part.

“That was pretty sneaky, babe,” he continues on as he steps more fully into the space, “using the hidden passages like that. But now you’ve cornered yourse– Oh! Heya, Dami.”

“It took you approximately twelve seconds to notice my presence, Grayson. Had I been an assassin out for your head you would already be dead.”

“Then I guess it’s good for me that you’re outta the game, huh?”

“Indeed.”

Richard chuckles a bit at that, his fingers flexing as if they long to ruffle the loose wave of his little brother’s hair, though both distance and a rather pointed glare keeps him from doing so. Still, the energy that ever courses through his veins demands movement and so he rises onto the balls of his feet and bounces in place a few times—eyes casually scanning the whole of the room all the while—before he rounds on Damian with a beaming smile.

“Catching up on your reading, huh? What’re you– Ah, a le Carré, eh? Wouldn’t be my first choice to unwind with, but ya like what ya like,” he concedes with a shrug. “I’m just glad to see you actually relaxing for once.”

The younger male finds himself bristling at the statement, just a bit, but a voice that sounds a lot like Pennyworth’s reminds him that not every comment is bait to be risen to. Still, “I take exception to your inference, Grayson—I relax when I deem it to be necessary.”

“Yeah, I know you do, littlest of bros. I just wish that you ‘deemed it to be necessary’ more often. You’re only young once, yanno? You gotta use that free pass for stupidity while ya still got it.”

“If you lot are anything to go by it shall not be expiring for a long while yet.”

Richard’s grin is impish from where he’s currently scrambling up the side of one of the bookcases. “Well, you ain’t wrong…”

Though he can assume his brother’s ultimate goal, the way he’s going about finding you leaves Damian utterly confused. Does he really think you to be atop the thing? Or is he simply trying to gain the advantage via a more advantageous vantage point? In any event he decides to use his genuine confusion to his personal benefit when he inquires as to just what it is that Richard is doing.

“Huh? Oh, I’m just looking for my darling lil partner,” he replies as he descends to the floor once more in a controlled fall. “They uhh, they wouldn’t happen to be in here, would they?”

“Please refrain from involving me in your childish games, Grayson.”

“Yeah, I’m gonna take that as a ‘yes’.”

Hating the idea of anyone being able to read him so easily the boy is quick to bury his face in the pages of his book once again with a dismissive click of his tongue. Though his eyes remain glued to the lines of print before him, his focus is zeroed in on Grayson’s every movement, but even with his sensory intake being reduced to what he can glean from auditory stimuli and his peripheral vision this is hardly a feat. The man bounces around from window to window whipping back curtains with equal amounts of flair and abandon; an overly dramatic “Are theyyyy… here!” accompanies every flap of fabric, much to his brother’s annoyance and his partner’s growing amusement.

Keep it together, Damian silently pleads when a particularly loud giggle escapes from the confines of your hiding spot. Grayson is in the middle of yet another exclamation so it more than likely goes unheard, but his younger coughs and clears his throat anyhow. His eyes immediately pinch in contemplation as he wonders why he feels the need to cover for you, it’s not as if he stands to gain anything from aiding you—in fact he would be better off if you were found sooner. A swifter detection means a swifter return to the quiet he so craves.

He isn’t quite sure how he has managed to become so heavily invested in your victory, but a brief bit of introspection has him writing it off to the quite charm that you wield seemingly without thought or effort. Sure, you have the capacity to annoy him to no end, but there is no denying that there is something magnetizing about you. What’s more, you’re one of the kindest people he has ever had the privilege of knowing despite life giving you ample reasons not to be. It’s so easy to see exactly what it is that draws Richard’s bleeding heart to the tenderness of your own. Though he may have made some questionable decisions with his previous romantic partners, Damian is sure that what the two of you have is made to endure.

Of course he gives voice to none of this, choosing instead to level his brother with a disgruntled look. “If you’re quite finished kicking up several weeks’ worth of dust…?”

“Alright, alright,” said with hands raised in concession. “Enjoy your book, baby feathers, I’m out.”

Though the use of the infuriatingly infantile nickname leaves Damian seriously contemplating testing his brother’s reflexes via a launched international spy thriller, he abstains if only to keep eyes off of him. With your impending (and shared) victory so close at hand, a vicious little smile plays along the corners of his mouth. Your pursuer is nearly out the door, just a few more feet and he’ll have retreated into the hall once more–

Pfft-hah!

Why?? he silently laments. There’s no reason for the sudden burst of mirth that he can see. Grayson was leaving, you had won.

Even muffled there is no denying the distinct cadence of your laugh and your lover’s eyes narrow as he looks towards the sound’s source. “They’re hiding behind the sofa.”

His statement brokers no response, but that does not mean that he will not receive one.

“No.”

Giggle-snort.

…Damn.

“Ha! I knew it!”

Well, Damian muses as he watches his brother toss the giggling mess of a human over his shoulder, it cannot be said that I did not try…

A/n: Not me losing every round of hide and seek I’ve ever played because I am a giggly bitch lmao. Anyways! Looking back over this now I realize that this touches on the relationship between Reader and Damian more than it does ReaderxDick, but whatever, it’s fine lmao…

© notepadsandtealeaves/TheViperQueen, 2018-2023 || Please do not repost, translate, or otherwise alter or distribute my works without my express permission. And for the love of god keep it away from Youtube and TikTok lol…

#dick grayson x reader #dick grayson x gn!reader #dick grayson x gender neutral reader #dick grayson x you #dick grayson x y/n #dick grayson fluff #((Immy does fan fiction: the Batboys))

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