Text
WIP Wednesday
I was tagged by @justafandomfollower - cheers, m'dears!
Posting a lil sneak peek of my fic for day one of Painland Week! It's gonna undergo some re-writing/editing before the whole thing's ready to post but this is 600 rough words of a uhhhhh 4k-ish fic. No idea if I'm gonna manage fics for every day since I'm having a big pain flare-up right now but I can at least polish up the three drafts I have so far! So here you go, some sweet nonsexual dom/sub therapy for Charles for day one, love languages💛
I'm gonna tag @kieren-fucking-walker, @firstaudrina, @coloursflyaway and @theflirtmeister, plus anyone else who feels like sharing some WIP sneak peeks, consider yourself tagged!
~~
“Charles,” said Edwin again, softer this time. It was important not to go on the offensive; in his current condition, Charles was liable to take any careless word as keenly as a knife in the back. “Please tell me what’s on your mind.” After a moment’s consideration, he added: “I promise I won’t be angry.”
It felt like utter nonsense to say out loud, a patronising placation as one might give to a child. But Charles, in Edwin’s experience, responded well to directness. His panic thrived in the mires of ambiguity.
Releasing a ragged breath, Charles rubbed his eye with the heel of his hand. “Just… dunno what to do sometimes. When you two go off at each other.” He peered at Edwin with his uncovered eye, and tried for a smirk. It fell decidedly short of the carefree, playful expression it was aiming for. “Dunno what side to pick, do I?”
He voiced it like a joke, but Edwin was listening carefully and he knew an incomplete sentence when he heard it. He stepped closer and, slowly, giving him time to step back, took Charles’ free hand and squeezed the fingers.
Charles closed his eyes, dragging his hand down his face. “Can’t keep you both happy,” he admitted on a low mumble, like it was a shameful secret.
Guilt sank sour and heavy in Edwin’s stomach, but he carefully kept it from his face. Any indication that Charles had made him feel bad was liable to make him shut down further. “It should not be your duty to keep the peace,” he said, choosing his words carefully. “I will speak to Crystal later, clear the air.”
Charles nodded, but he still stood propped against the desk and hunched unhappily in on himself. Edwin could see his brain turning itself over and over in miserable little spirals — wondering if he should have stepped in earlier, said something else, wondering what he could have done differently to make everything better. To make everyone happy.
Edwin swallowed tightly, and placed his hand upon Charles’ shoulder. “Charles. Look at me, please.”
He did so, without question or hesitation. Responding as easily to the polite command as if it had come from his own consciousness.
Edwin, with great care, hooked a finger through the gold chain aroudn Charles' neck, and tugged.
The effect was instantaneous. Charles’ wide, hunted eyes softened, slackened, his lined eyelids drooping. His lips parted around a quiet sigh, smoother than his last ragged exhalation, and his shoulders slumped as if a great weight had been dropped from them.
Charles was an ever-unfolding and expanding area of study; but to Edwin’s expert eye, on occasion, his needs were remarkably simple to interpret.
Meeting his now somewhat unfocused gaze, Edwin leaned in. “Put Crystal out of your mind for now,” he said, quietly commanding. “In fact, put everything out of your mind.”
“She’s upset,” Charles mumbled in protest.
“Yes — and she will continue to be so for a while longer, regardless of what you or I could say.” Edwin smoothed the collar of Charles’ polo. “When the dust has settled I will find her and smooth things over. I promise. For the time being, you’ll do none of us any good with your overthinking.”
Charles snorted. “Overthinking? Me?” he joked.
With another gentle, recriminating tug of the chain, Charles gasped and quieted.
Edwin sighed and leaned close, ‘til his nose grazed across Charles’ cheekbone. “Granted, your tendency to underthink before making dangerous choices borders on the pathological,” he teased. “But I strongly suspect you're thinking a lot of very unkind thoughts about yourself right now, and I'd like for you to stop. Please.”
Breath shuddering, Charles’ hands lifted, fisting in the front of Edwin's shirt.
“That what you want?” He asked, his voice a small and broken thing. For all his strength of body and character, he felt as vulnerable in Edwin's hands as a baby bird.
“How about I tell you exactly what I want for a while,” Edwin offered, breathing it across the shell of Charles’ ear. “And then all you have to do is listen." He delivered a swift, dry kiss to Charles' cheekbone. "No detective work required."
~~
Full fic coming to a blog near you on August 5th! Go check out the Painland Week blog and also lmk if you wanna collab on anything, assuming I get pain flareups under control I'm hoping to write lots and lots! Already got a little collab lined up for day 2 which I'm soooo excited about 💛
#dead boy detectives#payneland#charles rowland#edwin payne#dbda#my fanfic#tag game#this fic needs a LOT of beating into shape tbh but i think it's gonna be sweet!#and i've finished my day 2 one#and there's a semi-completed draft for day 4#anything else entirely comes down to what my health does for the next week or two really#any days i don't manage a fic for a may do a lil ink sketch instead#since they take like 5 mins and honestly get more notes here than anything i spend 2 weeks writing 😅#anyway thanks for the tag! i love talking to people about wips it inspires me to work on them lmao
30 notes
·
View notes