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sophiethewitch1 · 1 month ago

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What We Want - Chpt. 8 - Jason Fucking Todd

In Which A Romantic Breaks The Universe

(Yandere!batboys x f!reader) 18+ MDNI!

SUMMARY

Another lonely birthday, another empty year. You miss your family. You're late for your bills and rent, and even then, you got robbed last Tuesday.

Still, you buy yourself a cupcake, because you need it. I mean, hey. What's dessert for if not to get over cheating boyfriends and dead relatives?

As you blow out the candle, watching the clock switch from 11:59 pm to midnight of the next day, you make a wish.

And because the world doesn't like to make much sense, it comes true. Your life is suddenly flipped on a dime, and you're stuck trying to catch up with it. Fantasy becomes reality. You're a Wayne now, apparently. Or you used to be. You're loved, you're rich, you're talented and powerful.

Well, sort of. Careful what you wish for, right?

(TRIGGER WARNINGS AND MASTERLIST HERE)

PREV - NEXT

Well, look on the bright side of things. You’re not crying right now. That’s nice. You’re not an intern anymore. That’s nice. You struggle to think of anything else. Oh yeah, you’re rich! That’s also nice. You’re not dead. Nice.

This is kind of pathetic. You just feel bummed after having to break up with George a second time. And getting smacked right in the face by him. Which you know, anybody would be, you think. You don’t think a single soul has ever known the George Lancaster Break-Up Special more than once. And you didn’t think anyone would be stupid enough to fall for that asshole more than once.

You couldn’t fake a brave face anymore, you just didn’t have the energy for it.

…And let’s not forget almost dying via Joker goon. Not even the man himself, just a random lackey. You think of how he literally disappeared in front of your eyes, and decide you are going to stop thinking. It’s doing you no good anyway.

Instead, you just start walking. Letting your feet and your intimate knowledge of Gotham’s streets, even in this area you don’t often frequent, guide you. You find yourself at the train station. With little consideration, you buy a ticket to the southern part of the city. The bad side of town, the docks, where your apartment used to be.

You feel like a little rat scurrying back into the sewers as you hop on the subway, tucking yourself in between people who don’t recognise you, probably because of your general dishevelment.

Shoulders knocking against strangers, you feel the most at home since this whole disaster started. You stare across the train car, watching a baby babble to its mother. It catches your eye, gives you a big toothless smile, and some snot dribbles into it’s mouth. The mother notices and cleans the baby up with a tissue. When she catches you staring, you give a very awkward but friendly smile, and she smiles back.

A tiny weight lifts off your shoulders. Surrounded by the chaos of Gotham, as the subway exits the tunnels and heads up onto the sky rails, you find yourself warm by the rays of sun through the clouds. The view is beautiful, as it always is. Usually, you’d be looking at your phone, too busy to enjoy the sights. But it really is beautiful.

It’s only when you hear the announcer calling out that you realise you did this for a reason, and dart out of your seat and through the narrowly closing doors. The metal closes behind you with a small hiss. The Docks station, for most people, would be one of the better Gotham train stations. Newly built, and with all the tourist money it was clean. Well, clean as it could get. You’d read some article about the bacteria the rats were carrying being not found anywhere else on earth, and you’d decided to stop reading articles.

Anyway, for you, even the shining marble of the station was a sad sight. Because you only ever came here on your very worst days.

This seemed like one of them.

The familiar streets flit past you, barely something you’re even cognisant of. This part of the city was mostly new, the concrete fresh under your feet instead of littered with potholes. Still, it wasn’t at the centre of the blast radius, so it hadn’t been totally demolished.

No, that was just up ahead. And like everything else in this weird new world, you immediately noticed something different. Where your family had died was… still there, for some reason.

With confusion, exhaustion, and no small bit of despair, you stop in the middle of the pathway outside the remnants of what used to be an old diner and was now just a pile of rocks. Some very charred rocks. Looking at the wreckage, you raise your brows. Its crumbling form is still under construction after all these years. The yellow caution tape is only a deterrence to you because you don’t want to end up on the gossip reels for a second time today. Looking around, you find yourself further confused. Lots of other parts of the pier had been redeveloped, but this piece of the puzzle still lay bare.

It didn’t, in your home, your world. It had been replaced with high-rise apartments, and since they were so close to the water, so pretty and new, you had no hope of affording them. It probably wouldn’t be very good for your mental health even if you could. Still, you’d taken many walks past the street. Enjoyed the little bit of dirty white concrete that had survived. You and your siblings had signed your names into it, and you’d stroked the sidewalk like the weirdo you were many times.

Like you did today. And today, for some reason, the rest of it was here. Untouched. A remnant of the disaster. As you run your thumb along the sharp edge of Julie’s J, you find yourself once again lost in your memories. They were like honey traps to you these days.

The mum-and-pops diner had been run by your uncle. It’d been in the family for three generations, and he was incorrigibly proud of it. You’d all had your birthday parties there, because it was free and you were poor. It wasn’t like your uncle would let you pay for the food anyway, it was just one of the few times Mum could stand the generosity. She didn’t like it when you had disappointing birthdays, and no matter how much you tried to fake your happiness, she could always see to your core. Eventually, you and your siblings all gave up on trying.

You were late. You were often late, but this time it was… it was the difference between life and death. If you’d been a few blocks further, a little bit earlier, you’d probably be dead too. Or at least have some serious hearing loss instead of just suffering mild tinnitus.

You had felt more than seen the destruction. The earth had rumbled, and a deafening roar had swept through the streets. You remember falling to your knees, the worry about being late morphing to worry for your best clothes to a true terror when you realised where the blast had come from.

When you realised your family was in the epicentre.

You sometimes wish you were on time that day. That you’d gotten to see them all, even if you went with them. It didn’t sound so bad, really. At least you wouldn’t be alone. Hmm, you should probably stop thinking like that. Or maybe go to a therapist about it.

Not that you could afford it. Oh, right. Rich now. That was really taking some getting used to.

You wonder if people who won the lottery felt the same way. Probably not, because the rest of the world reflected the changes the person felt. They’d have to go pick up the check, go to the bank, and if they let their family and friends know, deal with the consequences of that.

You’d just woken up rich. No time to adjust, your new life was here and it was demanding your attention very loudly. And soup-ly, unfortunately. After a few minutes of staring blankly at the rubble, you look towards your left, where you know the Memorial awaits you. It’s in the centre of the new shopping district, built on top of the bombed parts of Gotham. It sits right next to the water, the cold breeze a comfort that you’d turned to on more than one occasion.

You’d feel bad if you didn’t change your clothes. You told Grayson you would, and you already felt bad enough about... everything to do with him. You suppose he was your brother. Your ex-brother. Ex-step-brother. The ex-step-brother of a woman who you weren’t.

Really, he was just a stranger. It seemed he didn’t feel that way, though.

You start the walk towards the shopping district, and into the first clothes store you see. The prices on the tags would usually make you flinch, but well, it doesn’t matter anymore. Nothing seems to matter. Your survival is now guaranteed, might as well wear some clothes that feel nice on your skin.

You walk out of that store looking like you just robbed it. Even the clerk had given you a weird look but accepted the black card tucked in your phone without much complaint. It’s an improvement if a small one.

Once you’re done, like a moth to a flame, you drift towards the Memorial centre. You’re following all the steps you used to in the past, but somehow, it all feels a bit alien. The world looks a little different, a little uncomfortable. Your shoes are worn in, and yet they still feel too tight.

Uncanny valley. You feel unwelcomed here, unwanted. Like the very earth can tell that there’s something wrong in this scene, some intruder. You ignore the feeling as best you can.

The Memorial is just as unfamiliar as the diner was, maybe even more. You know that your mother was a Wayne before she died. You know that. But still seeing your family’s framed photos, right alongside Jason's is so shocking you nearly jump. It takes a moment of wide-eyed staring before you can manage to get past that. When you do, for some reason you still go back to your old habits. You walk by them, the bouquets and to where their names used to be in thin letters.

You count with your fingers, finding the fifty-second line.

A man’s name replaces the spot where your mother’s is. The little grooves the oil in your fingers had left behind were gone, and instead was sharp stone like when the monument was first erected. It cuts at your fingers. It no longer welcomes your touch.

James Whitaker. That’s the name of the man who took their spot.

You can already feel a rising obsession with the random dead man. If you were going to psycho-analyse yourself, you’d recognise that you didn’t feel that the images of the Waynes you’d created were no longer real, no longer safe to your escapist mindset. You’d realise, that this was all pretty unhealthy, and you really, really needed therapy.

Instead, you give the guy your condolences and start reading the other plinths. They seem largely the same. It’s not like you hadn’t read all of these towers of stone at one point or another, your eyes glazing over the many, many names. So much devastation, all in one moment.

And still, this was not even a tenth of all the lives the Joker had taken. You kinda wanna go take a kick at one of the Bat signals littered around the city. Maybe that’d make you less… broiling with incompetent rage.

Again, maybe you should just go to therapy. You should call Jeanine about that or something.

Eventually, you circle back to your family and Jason’s shrines. You know, back then you’d been jealous that Jason Todd had been so well mourned. You’d wished your family had gotten the same treatment.

Now, you… felt jealous again. Possessive, over their memory, their image. You didn’t really like that random strangers that never knew them… knew them. That Sam always got As in English and Art class but would sometimes skip math and would hide in the bathrooms to do so. That Chasey had struggled with going to school because of her anxiety but kept going because she had a friend going through the exact same thing. That Julie was the ace of her school’s soccer team, and that she’d almost gotten them to nationals even in the presence of all the super-rich schools in Gotham. That your Mum was a great cook but genuinely hated doing it, but for some reason, baking was her favourite thing even as she had never made a proper macaron.

They didn’t know them. They knew their faces and a facsimile of them, but they didn’t know them. It reminded you of the people at the orphanage. Nice, but not kind. They’d had their own lives, they didn’t want some bratty, demented teenager who was going down and planning on taking everyone with her.

You really couldn’t be happy, could you? Maybe you didn’t know what you wanted. What you want now. What you’d wanted for a while, actually.

Ugh. You close your eyes and let out a deep, soul-shaking sigh. It takes a moment for you to shore up the willpower to open them again. Come on, flower shop, finish your weird little ritual then you can go home and hide for the next millenia.

The walk there is the same as always, if a little more morose. It’s in a good spot, near the church just a block away and the memorial on its other side, as well as less sombre atmospheres down near the pier. Well, as little sombre as Gotham can manage.

You feel like you blink and you’re there. Too quickly, you find a rainbow of blooms in front of you, the scent of the blossoms washing over you. When you walk into the flower shop, the bell at the door rings the same as it always does. On autopilot, you walk over to the small, cheaper buds. Your hand clenches around the crinkly wrapping paper, a bundle of posies in your hand. You go to the counter with your prize in hand.

Larissa, the counter worker, smiles at you. Your breath hitches. It’s a working smile, not one of the real, toothy ones she used to give you.

“Oh wow, I thought all the posies had sold out. Lucky you!”

You think of something to say, but the moment passes and you don’t. She rings you up, tells you the price, and when you pay, asks sweetly if you want a receipt.

She doesn’t say your name. Doesn’t acknowledge how you come here every week and buy this same handful of flowers. She doesn’t ask about your job or the weather. She doesn’t cheerfully tell you about how her apprenticeship is going, or about the next sweet thing her partner has done. No, she just stares at you, growing more uncomfortable the longer it takes for you to answer.

She doesn’t even seem to recognise this other version of you. It feels like another string that tied you down to the earth has been snipped. You have an image in your head of a child losing a balloon, desperately grasping at the air. You’re going to float up into the atmosphere, and then you’re going to pop.

You can see the foil glinting in the sun’s light, so, so clearly.

You squeeze your eyes shut, “Yes, a receipt, please.”

Taking it blindly, you barely flutter your eyes open as you walk out of the shop. She didn’t know you, didn’t remember you. That doesn’t matter, you tell yourself. You hadn’t really known her. It doesn’t matter. There’s no real difference, it doesn’t matter.

It’s okay, it’s okay, it never really mattered. You keep telling yourself this as you walk back over to the memorial. As you lay your flowers down with the others, the little posies are dwarfed by the other donations. It didn’t matter. You didn’t know her. None of this matters. Their flowers don’t matter.

You don’t matter. You hit that errant thought with a mental fly swatter.

Exhausted, you sit down next to the monument. You used to be able to lay your head on the stone, able to feel your family in the warmth it had absorbed in the sun. Now you just sort of, awkwardly reached out to the small bit of uncovered plinth at the side. You have to stick your hand through a wreath to do so.

It’s not warm. You wonder if your family are sad. And then you wonder if you’re an idiot for attributing feelings to a literal rock.

After a while, you get up. Cross your arms. You stare at your family's portraits, eyes moving over their smiles. One by one. You recognise some of the photographs, those are your favourites. A smile cracks across your face when you see the picture of when Chasey lost her two front teeth. She still grins cheekily at the camera, uncaring for any changes to her appearance, as all kids shouldn’t.

Your shoulders fall just the slightest bit when you see the picture of Jason Todd. It’s one of his older pictures. Probably seventeen or something. He’d always been a lovely boy when he was younger. And he still was up till he died but you’d always thought you’d seen something start to change in him. That sparkle of innocence, dulled, just the slightest.

And then he’d died. And you’d wondered if maybe he’d felt it was coming.

You certainly hadn’t. It had been like a hurricane tearing through your life. You’d ended up on the other side completely abandoned, the only friend who’d bothered to keep seeing you being one who’d learnt to dodge train ticket costs like a damn ninja. And you’d had to decide whether you could keep doing this, whether you even wanted to.

You were an obsessive creature by nurture. It had been all you could do to hang onto the Waynes, pretend they would love and care for you even if they’d have never even noticed you in real life. You weren’t sure that was strength or simple human survival. Dying was scary. Of course, you were scared of dying.

Your whole family had died. So, you told yourself, that Jason Fucking Todd would be sad if you killed yourself, and somehow, you had made it all these years.

And now here you were, and the Waynes did notice you in real life. You were important to them. You didn’t want to be, but you were. And again, you have to ask yourself, what would Jason Todd ask of you? What would he want you to do now, in this impossible situation you’ve found yourself in?

You stare at the picture. Stare at the way the sun hits his dark hair and blue eyes. Stare very, very hard. Like he might crawl out and give you a detailed list of what to do. You’d really like a detailed list. Or any guidance at all. Maybe you could go hit up a seance or something.

Your head falls forward into your sun-warmed palms. This is so stupid. No answers are going to fall from the sky, you need to find them yourself. And you’re not going to find them here.

Someone walks up beside you to the old memorial, and you quickly tuck yourself back into an acceptable image. Fold in all the rough edges you can. A tall and well-built man, with a face mask, sunglasses and a trucker hat, he looks like he could be a celebrity or something. Someone important, much more than you.

And you weren’t, not technically, at least. The universe had done the equivalent of a shelving error, and now here you goddamn were.

He does an odd pose next to you, something military-esque, where he clasps his hands together and bows his head. With a quick flick of your eyes you confirm, yes, his feet are equal with his shoulders. It’s obvious that he’s paying his respects so you do your best not to judge him too hard.

And then he speaks to you.

“I’m sorry.”

You look up, startled and confused.

“For your loss,” the deep voice finishes, jerking his head toward the pictures in front of the two of you.

“Wha- oh uh, um,” you blink and then realise that this person has recognised you, which would make sense since you are literally in one of the photos in front of you, and manage to pull your fading conscious mind back together for a moment more.

“Thank you, uh-” you stare at him a moment longer, “You too?”

Almost worse than that time you told the barista who gave you your coffee you hoped she enjoyed hers too, but not quite. Well, you know, he’d probably lost someone here too. You don’t know why he’d be here otherwise unless he wanted an autograph or something. The thought almost makes you laugh.

He snorts at your words. You don’t know what to make of that.

He looks back down at the pictures and flowers. You think he does, at least, from the slight shifting of his head. He’s kind of mysterious. Pair that with the deep voice, the muscular and tall physique, and you’re an odd mix of attracted and socially anxious. Not that you’re not always socially anxious, but this guy feels… strong. Dumb again, you can see his biceps from here but…

You just can’t quite shake it off. Strong. Strong.

“They didn’t deserve it, none of them did,” he speaks again, and you wonder what the fuck he’s going on about at all.

You admit, you sound a little bitter when you mutter, “Well, that’s obvious.”

He lets out a bark of laughter, and you see his eyes flash to you from under his sunglasses. A shade of blue. There’s another odd pause, and then he turns to you. You don’t know why he’s looking at you. He crosses his arms, and seems to size you up.

“What are you doing here?” he asks you like he knows you.

Your brow furrows. Okay, kind of losing any hotness points here. Bothering someone who was grieving could’ve been seen as rude from the very start, but you’d just thought he was weird. Now, you thought he was weird and rude.

“…Paying my respects. Obviously,” you gesture downwards, “My mother, my siblings, and…”

Well, how would you describe the relationship between you and Jason Todd now? He was still just a stranger to you and-

“With who, that guy?”

Now, it isn’t often that you’re stunned into silence, but at the moment you can’t find it in you to do anything but stare and gape. Frankly, you’re astonished! You’ve never met anyone who spoke so rudely of the dead, and well, he couldn’t have picked a worse person to do it in front of.

“Excuse me?” your voice can’t seem to convey even half of your offence, even as you sound like you’re about ready to bite a second person for today. The man pauses like you’ve surprised him, which- what the fuck is going on? Why do you feel like an alien crash-landed on Earth these days?

“No, I just meant-” he huffs, shakes his head, and continues, his voice now offended too, “What the fuck am I saying? Yes, I did mean that. That little twerp was a naive idiot who was manipulated by the people he believed in most.”

You stare, absolutely speechless, as the stranger goes on a damn-fucking-near crazed rant about one of the people most important to you. Never met? Sure. Dead as hell? Absolutely. But still, he was one of your lifelines. Your candlelight in the dark, guiding your way even when you felt completely lost. And now he’s calling him a naive idiot? You can practically feel the steam coming out of your ears.

“He changed nothing, made no difference in the end-”

“Nothing?!” you practically shriek, finally able to find your voice just to use it to shout, “He changed… so much! He donated millions of dollars, did heaps of charity work, was practically a treasure to our city… He made multiple homeless shelters, an orphanage, helped rehabilitate criminals and countless other things.”

Your fists are clenched tight enough that they shake. You hide them behind your back, but you still feel like he can probably see them. Your emotions are simmering too close to the surface, bubbling over and onto the floor. About to burn his sneakers to ash.

“You seem like you care a lot,” he says, sounding reserved.

“Of course, I care.”

“…It’s just, you didn’t seem the type, on the TV,” he keeps talking, poking at you for some god-awful reason, and you bark out a harsh laugh.

“Maybe people need to stop making so many fucking assumptions, then? It certainly hasn’t gotten you anywhere,” you throw your hands up, damn sick of all the constant fucking surveillance you’re under. You can see why this version of you lost her mind. You’re near about to as well.

He stares at you for a moment longer, and you start feeling too uncomfortable. It’s a stupid and useless protectiveness that has you staying. Like he’ll somehow try and harm the shrine to your people. It’s happened before, Joker fanboys defacing it and such. This guy could be one of those bastards.

And yet… somehow you feel…

“I’ll keep that in mind,” he finally says.

“Good, you do that.”

“But in the end, nothing’s really changed. Joker’s still out and about, as you well know.”

You physically flinch like you’ve been slapped. For a good minute there, all you can do is stare at him in disbelief. You raise one shaking fist, and lift one trembling finger, pointing. The man looks in the direction you’ve pointed, and when he doesn’t see anything, turns back to you. His sunglasses reflect the grey afternoon sun.

“Go,” you order, voice shaking just like the rest of you.

He just keeps staring at you. You wish he’d take off those dumb fucking glasses, so you could see this asshole’s face. Etch it into your mind. He doesn’t move, doesn’t say anything, doesn’t take any action. He simply waits for you to… Well, you don’t know what you’ll do. You haven’t known what you’d do since you left Dick behind two hours ago.

“You need to go,” you say again, and again, he doesn’t fucking move, “You… there’s… you have no right.”

You can hear the buzz of the city around you, the wind rushing by. His clothes rustle in the wind. Your voice sounds too loud in your ears, but he won’t just… he won’t leave. You don’t want this stranger here, watching you. Judging you. It’s all…

“Jason didn’t do anything wrong,” you say, and you think to yourself, desperately, ‘I didn’t do anything wrong.’

There’s a slight shift in the stranger’s posture. His shoulders tensed.

You think you’ve offended him.

“The Joker… That’s nobody's fault but the government for not just sucking it up and giving him the death penalty, or Batman’s for not doing it himself a long time ago. They’re all fucking useless, but they’re the ones who are supposed to be dealing with this!” you continue, your words growing more heated. It’s only the already looming threat of an assault case that keeps you from shoving the guy. Not like you’d be able to move him an inch, of course, he was huge.

You’re sure it would feel good, though.

“It was never some random teenager's responsibility, and it wasn't mine either,” you say, but find yourself pausing for a moment when you hear the end of your sentence. It doesn’t matter. It’s not like it wasn’t obvious anyway.

You’d tied yourself and Jason up together in your head. To you, you were both two sides of the same coin. One foot in the grave. You’ve got one foot in the grave…

“Jason Todd was a good person, and he made the world a better place.”

You look down at the portrait of the boy, his toothy smile twisting at your heart. None of this was fair. None of this had ever been fair. Why was this guy acting like anybody here had ever been able to do anything about it? Like Jason should’ve been smarter, and avoided a fucking bomb blast?

It was stupid. This was stupid, and you were over it. You were tired.

“And I miss him.”

It’s quiet after you say that.

“I don’t know how you can think it’s fair to act like his death was pointless when… of course it was, all of this was pointless,” you say, throwing your hands wide and gesturing to the entire memorial. “This was a tragedy, but Jason was a victim. And I’m sick of people like you who think they can decide whether someone else’s life was lived right. It’s not your damn right.”

“Now… fuck off!” you announce, and to your shock, he does. He fucks right off. The man gives you one last lingering look, and then turns and leaves without another word. Not like you needed them.

You huff out a shocked breath, and then turn back to the memorial.

The framed faces of your loved ones stare back at you, and for all you know it’s stupid, you can’t help but feel embarrassed for the display. You know your mother would’ve scolded you for your language, at least.

“Sorry,” you say, and you’re unfortunately reminded of that irritating man again. Likely that won’t be the first time he pops up again in your head. He seemed well, insane. Which wasn’t that odd in Gotham but… god, you just couldn’t seem to let it go.

It pissed you off to high heaven. His rudeness was something you’d usually be able to shrug off, especially from some random stranger, but, but, but-! Argh, damn it all. And it wasn’t like that was the first time you had had that sort of conversation, but it was certainly the first time someone had been so bold as to bring it up in front of your dead mother’s smiling face.

Earlier today had snuffed out the fire in you, but that encounter had been the spark to reignite it. More than that, actually. It had made you so damn pissed, made your blood boil in a way you just couldn’t ignore, to the point that you wanted to prove him wrong.

Jason Todd had mattered and had made a difference and change in Gotham. He had made a change in you. You put your hands on your hips, stare down at the flowers, and make a decision.

You’re going to fix your goddamn life. For Jason Fucking Todd.

Your body feels like shit, your brain feels like it’s stuffed with cotton wool, and yet this is the greatest opportunity you’ve ever been given. You have a chance to save yourself, and save your friends, and fix all the tiny little problems in Gotham that you’ve suffered through since childhood. Surely just throwing enough money at all your problems would fix some of them.

You were rich. If you couldn’t fix your life with millions of dollars available, then you had no chance.

And yeah, you don’t know what you’re doing. You know you can’t really change what happened. Back then or even just a few days ago. But you hate that. You hate it so much. You hate how weak you are in the face of loss. How both then and now, there’s nothing you can really do. And maybe if just out of spite, towards that asshat, Batman, Joker and everyone else, you want to make a change.

You want to be able to do something about it. You want it, so fucking bad.

First order of business?

…You want more flowers.

MASTERLIST - NEXT

#Series:WWW #yandere batfam #batfam x reader #yandere dc #yandere batfamily #yandere x reader #dick grayson x reader #nightwing x reader #jason todd x reader #red hood x reader #tim drake x reader #red robin x reader #damian wayne x reader #robin x reader

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petew21-blog · 4 months ago

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Friends for life

This Zack, my best childhood friend. When we were kids, we were basically inspereable. We spent so much time together. We slept over each tohers houses. Even better was the fact that our moms were best frinds. So not only they spend so much time together, but so did we. But that was 6 years ago. Everything changed when my dad died. Zack was there for me, but over time we grew apart. I had to help out my mum with my two sisters and she had to get another job to get enough money for us. Zack's mom on the other hand got divorced and found a new boyfriend. Who I heard didn't really get on well with Zack.

Me and Zack talked from time to time, but it was mainly superficial. Zack was now a very well respected guy in the school. He was always into sports. But now he was a swimmer, basketball and a football player as well. I don't know where he got all that time and energy. Even if we saw each other in the classroom we just smiled or waved at each other. Maybe even this very tiny friendship was the reason why no bullies dared to touch me. Not that Zack would every bully anyone, but if he knew that the other guys bullied someone, he always stood up for that person and ended it. And the bullies even apologized sometimes. That's how respected he was.

So yeah Zack's a jock and I am a classic nerd. Or maybe not classic. I don't really have much time to play games on the computer because of my job, but when I have some spare time I read comic books. So yeah, that makes me a nerd I suppose. And I do quite well at school too. Maybe not the PE, I kinda suck at that, but I get by.

Present time

Me and several other classmates were assigned to start decorating the halls for upcoming prom. Most of my classmates were really excited for that, but not me. I didn't have anyone to go with. Not anyone I wanted to atleast. Ok, I'll say it. I am gay, which complicates things a bit. And the person I would really like to go to prom with is Zack. But that will never happen. Zack is 100% striaght and it would totally ruin his reputation in the school.

But that doesn't stop me from obssessing about him. I saw him a few times in the locker rooms which gave me a pretty consistent image of how he changed over the years. He was pretty much the same Zack I grew up with, but I bet that his junk is much bigger than I remember. Truth be told, Zack was the first (and only) person who I had any sexual experience with. I know it sounds sus, but he only wanted to experiment jerking each other off as most boys do at their younger years. Back then I was really puzzled and didn't know what to do. Now I just wish I could go back to that moment once again.

I was one of the few remaining students. The rest headed to the shops to get their dresses and suits. I told them to leave and that I would finish it by myself, cause I wasn't planning on going anyway.

I entered the gym to get a ladder, to help me set up the last few letters over the door. And there he was, on the other side of the room. Zack was lifting some weights I didn't even know how to name. He noticed me battling with the ladder nd hurried up to help me. I mean... wouldn't you crush about him too?

Zack:"Hey, man. Nobody came to help you with this? It's pretty heavy."

Me:"Hey, no. They all left to get their suits and all. So it's just me now."

Zack:"Oh, that's sad. You need help with something?"

Me:"No, it's fine. It's just final touches. But thanks"

Zack:"All right, man. But if you need, don't hesitate to ask ok?"

He smiled and went back to finish his set.

I was basically drooling, As I was climbing the ladder and trying to reach the letters, I stumbled and grabbed onto a light. I must have been shocked or something cause then I found myself on the floor. But I wasn't on the ground, I was standing. And on the ground was my body, unconcious.

I looked at my hands and they were barely visible. I tried to reach my body but it wouldn't accept my soul. Fuck, am I dying? I tried to call out for Zack but he didn't hear me. I ran to him and saw him lifting his weights. I tried to reach for him, but before I did I felt a force pulling me towards him. And as I was pulled away I felt something being ejected out of his body.

I opened my eyes, looking in front of me. But Zack was gone now. I turned around but he wasn't anywhere. As I looked down, I noticed I was now wearing bright red shorts, and on top of that a very sweaty torso, which definitely wasn't mine. I reached out my hands. Fuck, is this really happening? I searched the pockets and found a phone. In its reflection I saw Zack's face. Oh my god. Did I really just possess Zack's body? And where is he?

The responsible flow of thoughts was now interrupted by the two huge sweaty biceps now in the way where I usually didn't mind them. I flexed and oh my god, the tightness, the strength. I felt amazing.

I knew it was bad, but I just had to give it a try. What if I might never have a chance to do this ever again, I stuck out my new tongue and licked my new shoulder all the way to my biceps. Which also allowed me now to inhale the scent of my sweaty armpit. "This is so amazing!"

I then proceeded to touch my new belly full off abs. "How the hell did he get these?"

"Lot of working out and calorie deficit" a voice called out from the other side of the room, where I was before. And there was my body. Standing.

"Zack? Is that you?"

"Yeah. Would you mind telling me how this happened?"

I wanted to be completely honest, I swear, but I think that he doesn't need to know the part where my soul travelled to his body and was pulled by it.

"So, are we gonna try to reverse it the same way? Cause your body is really hurting from the fall and my body needs to be ready for a game tommorow. So I'm not really sure about that"

"I'm really sorry about that Zack. I mean, you're right that maybe it was my near deth experience that caused this, but I don't know if endangering our lives would allow to swap us back. What if the other one dies and the remaining one will have to keep on living the other ones life?"

"Yeah, you're onto something. Well, we're gonna have to figure out how to pass on as each other."

We spoke some more about how we were gonna live our lives without anyone thinking we have gone crazy.

"Ok, Zack. Just one question. How about... you know. Private stuff?"

"You mean my personal things at home or phone? Well that shouldn't be so bad I think. I don't have many secrets to tell or something, haha"

"No, I mean. Eventually we're gonna have to take a shower or go to a toilet."

"Oh, right. I haven't thought of that. Well, than my body is your body? I mean, I don't really like to think about somebody else using my body like that, but I know you're a good person and all, so I know you'll treat my body well. Maybe just... no sex? Could you do that for me please?"

"Zach, I haven't had sex yet even in my body. I mean, your body is attractive and all so, I know I could get a date in your body or smth, but that's not something I would do."

"Ok, thanks man. Just making sure. And also another thing. I..."

"What is i Zack?"

"Give me a second, it's kind off embarasing for me. I have to jerk off in the evening everyday. If I don't I sometimes have wet dreams the next morning"

"Dude, that's nothing to be ashamed of. That happens, Zack"

"Thanks. I know you mean well, but I just know my body. So I know you'll have to take care of that now or you'll have a very unpleasant morning including the washing of the clothes and bed linens."

I felt Zack dick in my new shorts getting hard just by hearing about this. Not only am I in the body of my crush, but he himself gave me permission to jerk off his dick. How crazy is that?

"Ok, Zack. If that's what needs to be done, I'll do it." I said it in a way to make it sound like I wasn't thrilled to jerk off his dick

"And in exchange I'll get to jerk off your dick. Do you have any other secrets I should know about?"

OH FUCK NO I am not telling him "Well... not really. I think."

"Good, then let's get to it. In case you won't know what to do, just text me and I'll help you"

I was approaching Zack's house. The one where I basically grew up secondary to mine. I knew where all the rooms were. What stuff was placed where. But that was before the death of my dad and before the divorce. Who knows what's different

I entered the house anticipating horrible things. And then a strange man left the restroom. "Hey, dipshit. Back from school already? Jesus fuck. The kids these days. Why don't you get a job kid" he left for the kitchen to grab himself a cold beer and left for the living room.

Now I understand why Zack spent so much time at school doing sports. He didn't want to stay at home longer than necessary.

Anyway, up to Zack's room. His room was not filthy, it was kind of clean, but at the same time it was a but disorganized. Some of his used clothes were lying on the ground. I grabbed one of his boxers and grabbed it to my face. This is my smell now. The smell of my dick. I inhaled and held it to my nose.

As I felt my dick hardening, I didn't waste no time and started undressing myself. Zack's small mirror didn't do the trick for me so I left to the bathroom.

"Ok, modern shower. That's new. Gonna have to give it a go"

I took off all my remaining clothes. I left his necklace on and then just stared at my new reflection in the mirror. How amazing is this?

I touched his jawline, his already growing beard, scratching my hand. His lips, shivering underneath my touch. His beautiful nose. His eyes, that now contained my soul and not his looked a bit different, but same too. I took my right hand and place it on my neck while my left hand was already enjoying the hairtrail blow my stomach.

"Oh Zack, I think you'd be the type to shave. Might do that for you to fully embrace this massive beast" and with that I lowered my right hand that was before resting on my vibrating throat and now started jerking my new dick.

"Just doing what I had been told. Haha"

I jerked faster. I was slightly moaning but not loud enough to cause suspicion with Zack's step dad. I was observing the tense muscles just working hard to get me into the state of pure euphoria.

I was getting close. I couldn't stop myself from moaning. I jerked so hard that the cum flew out of my dick right to the mirror in front of me. Is I stood there, smiling with my semi-hard dick in my hand I just saw the door swung open.

I quickly covered my dick and whole self with a towel, but even the partial view could give the viewer enough information. His step dad was furious

"What the hell you fucker?!? You're jerking off here while you could do some usefull job instead? I will have a very long talk with your mother when she gets here!"

What the hell just happened. Why is he so mad at Zack all the time. He's a student and a busy one at that. I don't know what this guy's problem is

I cleaned up the bathroom and got ready for the next time. Just the fact that I got the privilege to smell Zack's scent all the time and sleep in his bed. But having his body was a whole new level. I never even dreamed of this

The next day was horrible. I started the day with PE at school and let me tell you, that having a great body full of muscles is one thing. But having a weak will to actually do it is another. I was exhausted. I felt like I wouldn't be able to get up again after finishing

I saw Zack aproaching me in my body with a concerned look. I was beggining to worry what was on his mind

Zack:"Hey... umm how was your first night as me?"

Me:"Gotta say that the stepdad you got there is an another level of douchebag. I can't believe how you can live with that"

Zack:"Yeah, he is like that all the time. I don't know what mom sees in him. He's actually super nice to her, but seems to hate me just for breathing"

Me:"Yeah. I'll tell you later. There has been a bit of embarassing encounter"

Zack:"Actually I might ask you about something else first. Last night as I was in the bed I was trying to jerk off your dick, very nice by the way"

Me:"Jesus, don't make it more awkward than it is"

Zack:"Sorry. We'll I was trying to jerk off as I normally would, watching porn and stuff, but I couldn't. Then my mind wandered over to the guy on the video... I have to ask you and don't be afraid to answer. Are you gay?"

Me:"Yeah... I've been meaning to tell you for a long time. Well... since we're already saying everything to each other. I'll just admit it right now. I... I have a crush on you Zack"

Zack:"That was my another question. I have my head filled with thoughts. Very naughty thoughts including my body, so I am happy that you cleared this up and I am not just another self centered weirdo. But the question is. Would you let me suck my dick?"

Oh man

Another story from the inbox: Can you do a classic swap story between a nerd and a straight jock? I always find those to be super hot

Hey guys. Sorry for the great break. I was finishing my exams (I passed them all, yay) and now I am in a different country on an externship trying to figure shit out. But I do have some free time during the day and I get to write a bit about my drafts and the stories in your inbox. And thanks to everyone who texted me all the supportive and kind words :) really appreciate it

#body swap #body switch #gay to straight #Jock body swap

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scribblesofagoonerr · 6 months ago

Text

— I'm never babysittin' again!

Thanks to the anon who requested this one, I've been working on this since I got in and fun fact, I've had no sleep whatsoever, so definitely gonna regret that at work later...

Anyways, I am working through other requests and stuff. If anyone has anymore, let me know. Always willing to write stuff within reason.

Also, massive thanks to @alotofpockets who helped me come up with some of the idea's to add in.

pairings: kim little x reader, leah williamson x reader, arsenal wfc x reader

summary: readers' a menance on the trip to melbourne along with her partner in crime, kyra, and poor kimmy's almost having a nervous breakdown over it, so she has to call in reinforcements back home in london.

"I'm bored," You let out an exagerated sigh and kicked your legs back and forth as you had been forced to sit on one of the seats in the secluded lounge area as you had to wait for your flight to board.

You were partaking in a friendly game in Melbourne with the rest of your Arsenal team mates against an A-League team, you had been so excited about this ever since you found out that you'd made the squad.

"How much longer?" You can't help but be bored, being forced to sit in an airport certainly wasn't your idea of fun, neither was being stuck under the watchful eye of your Captain either.

You swear that the club, and Leah in particular, had planned this on purpose.

It's like they knew already, somehow.

You wouldn't call yourself a troublemaker, persay, buts' what fun is life without causing a little mischeif, sometimes?

Apparently, the rest of the older girls' didn't have the same thoughts about it.

At least you had Kyra on your side to involve her in the chaos, the girl was a bit older than you but she was your partner in crime, you two always fun causing mischief together.

"It won't be too much longer, Y/N. Just be patient," Kim, your captain and unoffical babysitter for the trip, tries to reassure you, but never the less, you just feel further restless.

In your defence, you can't help the boundless energy you have inside of you, its' like your body feels like lightening bolts are itching to strike and you just want to be up and racing about.

The confides of the hard plastic seat make it difficult to do that though.

"But I'm bored, Kim," You repeat in a whiny tone of voice, throwing your head back in frustration. "Nobodys' letting me have fun around here!"

"There's a difference between fun and trouble kid," Steph, another one of your team mates, chimes in, amused by your antics.

"It won't be too much longer now, Y/N. I'm sure you can wait just that little bit longer," Kim states, although her patience is wearing thin.

It hadn't even been 24 hours yet, and the Scottish women was already on the brink of a nervous breakdown.

"Are you excited to be going to Melbourne, kid?" Steph wonders, trying to keep your mind occupied for the time being, already being able to see how fidgty you have become, "It's a cool place, you're gonna love it!" She adds.

"Uh huh. I'm excited-- Oh wait, I still need sweets for the light!" You suddenly realise, attempting to make a break for it when you can.

Kim shakes her head in disagreement, "Its' too late now, Y/N. We're going to boarding the flight soon," She interjects, trying to reign you in.

"Yeah, and you definitely don't need anymore sugar because you're already hyper enogugh," Steph adds in, which you respond to her with a pout.

"Aw, man. Leah would let me if she was here," You try and protest, however, your words are very much incorrect and of course the rest of the girls aren't stupid enough to believe that either.

You know that Leah, if she was here, would most definitely not allow you to have sugar at all.

In fact, she'd purposely try and make ham sandwiches in an attempt to steer you from even going in the direction of the shop.

"No she wouldn't," Katie, one of the older girls on the team comments as she passes by.

"Yeah, we all know what you're like without sugar. You don't need any of it,Titch," Caitlin, one of the Aussie girls on your team, adds in.

You huff in further protest, your bordem is slowly persisting and it feels like you've been waiting for the flight to board for ages.

Desperately trying to find something to occupy your time, your eyes gaze upon the several dogs' lined up near the barriers to get through security.

"Bingo," You think to yourself as your eyes' light up in delight, wasting no time to jump up from your seat and dart in the direction of the dogs.

All you want to do is pet them. They look adorable in your opinion.

Before anyone could even stop you, you'd already successfully made it halfway across the terminal in the direction, however, the annoucement of the flight to boarding to Melbourne had gotten Kims' attention now.

"Right, our flights been called. See Y/N? I told you it wouldn't be that long," Kim spoke aloud, not realising that you'd somehow managed to wander off in the time that she'd turned round to speak to Steph, "Where's Y/N gone?!" She questions, her eyes widen in panic when she doesn't see you in her eyesight.

"Look's like she went to pet the dogs," Kyra snickers, amused with your antics, and although she should try and stop you, she wanted to see how far you would succeed with your little adventure.

"She wants to make friends with them," Teyah joins in, just as amused as she watches the scene unfold.

"And neither of you tried to stop her? You know what she's like!" Kim shakes her head in disbelief and her eyes' almost buldge out of her sockets when she spots you nearing the dogs, "Oh, God-- Y/F/N!"

"You might wanna grab her before she gets' her arm ripped off, Kim," Katie jokes, watching in amusement.

"Unbelieveable," Kim mutters to herself as she races' quicker than ever in the direction of you.

Unfortunately before you'd made it nearer to the dogs, you feel a firm grip on your upper bicep that's starting to tug you back forcefully.

You spin round and are met with your Captains' stern face, "Kim!" You whine in protest while trying to wriggle free from her grasp.

"What an earth are you doing, Y/N? You can't pet the dogs!" Kim scolds you, remaining to still have your hand on you tightly to not allow you to run off again. "Come on, we need to board the flight," She adds, sternly.

"But the dogs though. They're adorable!" You pout in further protest, not happy about being pulled away before you even had chance to pet them.

"Mhm, as adorable as they look, they're patrol dogs and they have a job to do here," Kim remarks sarcastically, dragging you back in the direction of your team mates so you can board the flight.

"Maybe you need to invest in a leash for her," Alessia, another one of your team mates pipes in as she watches you be reluctantly dragged back to the group of girls while Kims' already rubbing her temples in dispare ahead of the flight before its' even taken off.

"Pst, Kyra," You nudge the older girl not so gently to wake her up, having been bored on the flight while the rest of the girls seem to be asleep or doing their own thing, "Wanna play a prank on some of the others?" You question, mischeviously.

So far the flight to Melbourne hadn't been that adventurous, somehow through luck though you managed to be able to sit next to your partner in crime.

It was great for you, however, not so much for Kim, whos' been frazzled and trying to keep things under control the whole time on the flight.

"Absolutely," Kyra grins in respose as theres' a matching mischevious twinkle in her eye, "What'd you have in mind?" She wonders, curiously.

You grin and proceed to pull out a whoopee cushion from your carry-on, "Well, we could start with this?" You suggest in a quiet whisper, to not get the attention of Kim, whos' got her head buried in a book at the moment.

"Genius!" Kyra's eyes light up in glee, "Whos' our first target?" She questions.

"Caitlins' dozzing off," You gesture in the direction where Caitlins' half in and out of sleep.

You and Kyra both share a look before the older girl sneaks over to Caitlin and slips the whoopie cushion underneath the older Australians' seat.

"Show time," You smirk as you wait for her to sit on it.

Caitlin wakes up startled when it suddenly goes off and she looks around confused, "What the--?"

The pair of you can't help but giggle uncontrollably.

"Y/N, Kyra," Kim catches onto your troublemaker ways and narrows her eyebrow, "Behave!"

"What? We didn't do anything!" You feign your innocence, holding your hands up in protest.

"Let's move on to Steph," Kyra encourages you to continue with your pranks.

"Yeah, good shout," You nod in agreement and find the packet of gummy worms in your bag, you could easily eat them but pranking the Aussie women was more worth it. "Lets' put these in her bag. She'll totally freak out!" You add in.

Kyra eagerly accepts the packet of sweets and sneaks over to Stephs' seat, cautiosly depositing the gummy worms in her open backpack, "Done. Now we just need to wait for her to go in there--"

"Ah! What the hell?" If Stephs' facial expression is anything to go by then you guess Stephs' found them already, "Y/N! Kyra!"

"It weren't us," Kyra plays it off and shrugs her shoulders.

"Yeah, you have no proof," You give the girl a smug grin.

The older Australian women shakes her head in annoyance, "Pests. You're both a pair of pests, honestly," She mutters aloud.

"You two are something else," Katie overhears the commotion and shakes her head.

"Dare I ask what you pair did now?" Alessia questions, joining in as she overhears the noise from her fellow team mate.

"I don't know what you're talkin' about, we're just havin' a bit of fun," You still continue to act innocent, although you personally don't understand what the fuss is about when you're contained in a metal box with no escape.

You need to entertain yourself, somehow.

Pranking your team mates is the perfect opportunity.

"Hey, Alessia! Do you like spiders?" Kyra smirk mischeviously, already ahead of the plans for another prank at the expense of the older blonde girl, who you both know has a bad fear for them.

"No, not really-- Ah!" Alessia shrieks loudly when you toss a fake spider in her direction, doing no more than jumping up onto her seat before she realises a fake plastic one and is now glaring at you, "Y/N! Kyra!" She yells, annoyed with you both.

"That's enough!" Kim shoots up from her seat, giving you both a pointed look. "Both of you, sit down and behave!" She bellows.

"Yes, ma'am," You pretend to be serious and move back to your seat.

Kyra gives your Captain a mock salute and continues to follow suit, "Aye aye, Captain!" She jokes with her.

"I don't want to hear anything more from the pair of you for the rest of this flight," Kim warns you both before she returns to reading her book.

"Pst, Y/N," It's Kyra's turn to nudge you know with a knowing look on her face, "We should try and see if we can balance peanuts on Frida's head while she's asleep," she suggests the idea to you.

Never being the one to turn down a challenge, you smirk and nod your head in agreement, "You're on. That'll be easy!" You insist.

With the task in hand, you both lean across your seats' and carefully begin to place peanuts on Frida's head, one by one.

"Wow. I didn't think this would actually work," You whisper in amazement and try to stifle your giggling, however, thats' not going to plan when Frida wakes up and the peanuts' fly everywhere.

"What..." Frida looks completely baffled, while you and Kyra still continue to hold back your laughter even more.

You can't hold it in much longer before you end up bursting out in laughter, "That... That was great!" You state in amusement.

"Y/F/N! Kyra! I swear, if you don't behave then I'll have the captain come talk to you!" Kim chides, feeling like she's ready to blow with the mishchief that you pair have caused. "I mean it when I say no more trouble from either of you for the rest of this entire flight, understood?"

You still can't help but laugh out loud at the misfortune of Frida wearing half a bag of peanuts on her head, "Someons' salty. Get it, cos' they were salted peanuts!" You crack up into more laughter.

"I mean it, Y/N. I will get the captain, or when we get to Melbourne, I'll have no problem in telling Leah all the antics you got up to," Kim threatens you and your face pales immediately.

Sure, the captain of the plane might be terrifying, but your blonde vice-captain was someone you definitely did not want to be in hot water with.

Unforuntately, you seemed to find yourself on the end of stern lecture with her one too many times.

"Okay, okay. I'll stop, I'll behave-- Don't phone her!" Your quick to plead with your Captain, really not wanting her to make that call.

Kyra nods but she keeps her fingers crossed behind her back, "Yeah, we'll be good," She states.

"I'll believe it when I see it," Steph mutters, shaking her head.

Caitlin nods in agreement with the older Aussie girl, "Them pair are magnets for trouble," She remarks.

It wasn't long before you had arrived in Melbourne, when your flair for trouble is encouraged once again by Kyra and the pair of you can't resist goofing off inside the gym.

"Kimmy!" You all but plow yourself on the older women, whos' peacefully minding her own business on one of the massage tables until you came at her like a full whirlwind.

Somehow, Kyra decides to get the idea to improvise giving your Captain chest compressions or something along the lines of what it looks like.

Also, trying to encourage you to hang of the pull up bar with the overshadowing of a bet on the tables.

You have always loved to bet on things. Your not turning down this opportunity.

"Kimmy! Kyra' reckons I can't hang off the pull up bar. Watch this!" You tattle, before you make your way over to the bar.

"Y/N, no. You'll hurt yourself!" Kim's quick to bolt up from the table to stop you from attempting to break your leg with your attempt to hang upside down on the pull up bar.

Kyra giggles mischeviously and watches as Kim almost has a near heart attack watching the trouble unfold, "Nah, Y/N. You've gotta do it like this!" With that, she pulls herself up onto the bar and flips herself over so she's dangling upside down.

"The pair of you get down before you get hurt!" Kim chides, trying to keep a stern facade when dealing with the pair of you. "Y/N, I'm serious. Get down!" She repeats, trying to reason with your chaotic antics.

"Your no fun. I only wanted to swing from the bar like a monkey," You huff in protest and begrudingly get off the bar to save your Captain from having an annuerysm.

Unfortunately for the older girl, your trouble doesn't seem to stop for too long and between you and Kyra, you had managed to mismatch everyones' boots when they were mostly preoccupied.

"Why do my boots' feel different?" Katies' the first one to realise as she looks at them in confusion, "These aren't mine," She notes.

Caitlins' just as quick to realise her own pair are missing, "Hey, who took my boots?" She questions.

"Seriously, guys?" Steph huffs, holding up two different sized boots in each of her hands.

Kim spins' round to look at you and Kyra, "Girls, did you do this?" She asks, her voice sounding calm, which is weary in itself.

"Who, us? Never!" You can't help but grin, which is a dead giveaway from your latest shenanigans.

"Yeah, we were just standing here," Kyra feigns her innocence and holds her hands up in mock surrender.

Alessia can't help but laugh and shake her head, "I bet it was you two. Your always up to something," She states.

"Maybe," You let out a small giggle.

Kim exhales a sigh at your antics, "Just switch them back. We need to start training soon!" She tells you both, sternly.

"Yes, ma'am," You joke and pretend to be serious with your Captain.

"Right away, Captain," Kyra gives Kim another mock salute as the pair of you set the boots to the right players.

"Why do I put up with this?" Kim mutters to herself, although its' loud enough to be heard from a few of the girls.

"Remember what Less said about needing a leash for Y/N," Steph chimes in, reminding the Scottish women about the idea.

"At this point, I'm actually considering it," Kim remarks, already having thoughts about it.

"Hey, I'm not a dog!" You overhear the conversation and shout in protest.

"Ha, could you imagine? Y/N on a leash at training," Katie snickers in amusement and shakes her head, "That'd be hilarious!"

"Might actually be a good idea," Vic, another one of the girls on the team, chips in.

"I'm deeply hurt by this suggestion!" You still continue to act offended.

"You know its' true, Y/N/N," Caitlin laughs at your own expense, going to take a sip of her water but pulls away with the frown when there's a revolting taste from it, "Ew, why does my water taste horrible?" She asks, confused.

"Oh God," Steph exhales a sigh and pinches the bridge of her nose, "Kyra, Y/N, what have you done now?" She questions, glancing in both of your directions.

"Oh no, we must've got the bottles all in a pickle," Kyra smirks and gives the clue away as you both share a look with one another.

You can't help but burst out into laughter again, meanwhile Kims' slowly rubbing her temples and trying to refrain calm over the situation.

"Right, that's it, Y/N-- I'm callin' Leah. I've had enough of your troublemaker ways!" Your Captain states in outrage, shaking her head.

You freeze in your tracks and immediatly start to shake your head in protest, "No, no, please, Kim... Please, don't do that!" You plead with her.

"One more chance," Kim warns, firmly. "One more slip up and I'm phoning her!" She adds, shaking her head and questioning her life decisions on how she got stuck babysitting the kids (the untrustworthy and non responsible young adults) for this trip.

Better yet, the younger girls' that had joined them on the trip were better behaved than you were at times.

Having this be your first time in Melbourne, let alone Australia, you were keen to explore and when the prospect of a trip to the zoo was on the tables, you were more than ecstatic to visit there and see all of the animals.

Ever since Kims' threat to phone Leah back home in London, you been trying to remain on your best behaviour. You really didn't want to be in trouble with the blonde again, so you'd done your best to avoid your troublemaker partner.

However, that is easier said than done sometimes.

"Wow," You spoke aloud in amazement as you walk through the entrance of the Melbourne zoo, with the rest of your team mates in tow, keen to see as many of the animals as possible.

"Stay close, Y/N. I don't want to loose you," Kim warns, already thinking ahead of your disappearing act in the airport previous to this.

"I want to see the Koalas," You huff in protest and try to figure out a way to get away from them.

"You will, there'll be plenty of time for that. You just need to be patient," Kim reassures you, although her patience is way past the point of calm.

"Come with me, Y/N. I'll show you where they are," Kyra offers the opportunity for you to sneak away from the rest of the girls in the search for the animal you want to see.

"Okay," You don't think twice before being led astray by the older girl once again and make your way to the enclosure where they are, "Wow, they're so cool!" You stare at them in amazement.

"Aren't they just?" Kyra murmers, looking at them.

"Hey, I have an idea," There's a twinkle of mischief in your eye again as you look at the older Australian girl, "Bet you can't get a selfie with one of them!"

"Oh, yeah? You're on!" Kyra isn't one to back down from the challenge, completely missing the 'no entry' sign in clear view, she creeps towards one of them and you get your phone out and hold it up ready to take the photo.

"Hey! What're you doing?" The loud voice of a zookeeper startles you both, almost causing you to drop your phone in the midst of it all, "You can't be in here!" They shout.

Without any hesistation, you both are quick to make an escape from there and scramble back over the railing.

Back with the rest of the girls, its' dawned on them that they've one again lost you both as they begin to search around for you.

"Y/N?" Kim shouts aloud.

"Kyra?" Steph and Caitlin both call out for the younger Aussie girl.

"Come out, come out, wherever you are," Katie chimes in, jokingly.

Alessia exhales a sigh and shakes her head, "How can they wonder off again without us realising?" She wonders.

Steph looks around and spots you both near the kaolo enclosure, "Oh boy," She mutters to herself.

"You might really need to invest in that leash after all, you know, Kim," Vic chips in, amusedly.

"I'm staring to think so too," Kim remarks, exhaling a sigh.

"I knew you'd come around," Alessia jokes, overhearing the conversation.

"There you both are!" Kim strides over with a stern expression, taking a hold of your upper bicep again. "That's it, that's the final straw. I'm calling Leah!" She states, already having made her mind up.

"It's not just me, its' Kyra too," Your quick to throw the older girl under the bus in protest.

"Hey!" Kyra whines in protest.

"You're meant to be setting an example, Kyra!" Caitlin scolds the younger Australian girl.

"You're older than Y/N, Kyra. You should know better!" Steph chimes in.

You can't help but smirk in satisfaction that you're not being scolded for once, "Can we go see the kangaroos now?" You question, innocently.

"Don't look to happy yet, Y/N. I'm still calling Leah when we're back at the hotel and telling her how much trouble you've caused over the last 24 hours," Kim remarks, which causes you to furrow your eyebrows. "And until then, I want you right by my side for the remainder of time that we're here so I know where you are!"

"Sit," Kim orders straight away as you follow her into her hotel lobby and begins to dial Leahs' number on her phone as she paces the floor back and forth, "Come on, pick up, pick up," She murmers as she waits for the response on the other end of the line, despite the time that it might be.

You can't help but sit there and hope that Leah doesn't answer, because you really knew you'd done it now to be in trouble, yet again.

"Hey Kim!" Leahs' voice answers on the other end of the phone, connecting the video call to where it looked like she was in gym surrounded with the rest of the girls back in London.

"Hi, Kimmy!" Beth pops her head in the video call and waves at her Captain. "Hows' Australia?" She wonders.

"It's a disaster, girls! I can't take it anymore!" Kim tells them frantically.

Leah looks immediately concerned as her eyebrows knit together, "Whoa, what's the matter?" She asks, confused.

"You look like you're about to have a nervous breakdown there, Kimmy," Beth jokes, seeing the exasperated look on the older women's face. "What's up?" She asks.

"Y/N and Kyra! Between them, they're both driving me insane!" Your Captain admits out loud, and you try to slump down in your seat to try and hide from the telling off that you know is iminant when Leah finds out what's been going on.

By this point, all the girls' in the gym have decided to surround Leahs' phone to find out about yours and Kyra's antics.

"Uh oh," Viv murmers, shaking her head. "What've they done?" She asks.

"I think its' more like what haven't they done," Beth jokes, trying to keep the mood light in the room.

Kim shakes her head and settles on the bed, trying to keep her attention between you and the phone call, "Leah, its' like Y/N is out to be a complete menace this trip," She pauses as she glances at you to make sure you're not doing anything you shouldn't be. "Together they've done nothing but cause trouble, from switching everyones' boots during training and putting pickle juice in the water bottles, and causing trouble on the plane with their pranks and don't even get me started about the airport either!"

"Wait, someone actually drank the pickle juice?" Manu looks considerably confused at the mention of the pickle juice in patricular.

"That doesn't sound good," Stina comments, laughing.

Laia smirks in amusement, "I can't believe it," She states.

"What happened at the airport?" Lia asks, curiously.

"Well lets' just say that Y/N wanted to go over and pet the friendly dogs," Kim remarks sarcastically, shaking her head.

Beth snorts in realisation, "The friendly dogs? You mean the patrol dogs-- Oh dear," She shakes her head in utter disbelief.

"I feel like I'm at my wits end with them both. We couldn't even go the zoo without them wandering off and getting into trouble, Alessia even suggested that I get a leash for Y/N and I'm half tempted!" Kim rambles to them over the phone, ready to pull her hair out after dealing with both you and Kyra for the last god-knows how many hours.

"I knew I should've come on this trip, Y/N's always a handful, but this sounds like its' too much," Leah exhales a sigh and bites her bottom lip. "Is she there with you now?" She asks.

"Shes' right here," Kim nods in agreement with the blonde, panning the camera to face you.

"Hi Leah," You wave innocently at the blonde, hoping that she'll go easier on you.

It's needless to say that the blonde looks that impressed.

"Where's Kyra?" Viv questions, arching an eyebrow as she doesn't spot your counter part in the room.

"With Steph and Caitlin, I needed to seperate the pair of them. They're talking to her about this, but feel free to call in as well," Kim tells the Dutch.

"I'll call her afterwards. Can't her go anywhere unsupervised," Viv states, shaking her head in disappointment.

"You're doing great, Kimmy. Just a few more days!" Beth chimes in, trying to keep your Captain in high spirits. "Hang in there!"

Kim shakes her head in protest, "I'm never babysitting again! I'm gonna need a holiday after this-- I'm getting grey hair! I thought Y/N was bad on her own, but she's even worse when Kyra's with her!" She exclaims to the girls.

Leah exhales a sigh, feeling for the older women as she pinches the bridge of her nose, "Right, okay. Put Y/N on Kim. Maybe I can get through to her," You can tell that the blondes' trying to remain calm and collective, but she feels annoyed at your behaviour still.

"Please do," Kim murmers, feeling relieved as she turns to look in your direction. "Y/N, come and talk to Leah!" She calls over.

"Uh no, no... I'm alright actually, I think I'll just--" You try and back out of talking to her, not ready for the confronation from the blonde.

"Over here, Y/F/N!" You hear Leah call you out directly and you inwardly curse, having no choice but to do as your told for once, waiting to speak again when you were in front of the camera, "What the hell are you playing at, kid?" She cuts straight to the point with a tone of voice, which makes you want to shrink onto the floor.

"Nothing, I'm just having a bit of fun..." You try and come across as innocent, hopeful that it'll cut out some of the lecture, "Hows' London? I miss you!" You add.

"Cut the bullshit, Y/N," Leah scoffs and shakes her head. "Listen, just because I'm not there doesn't mean that you can still get away with stuff like this, yeah? I trusted you to go on this trip, you have a responsiblity to set an example, there's girls there younger than you and this is the way you act-- It needs to stop!"

There's something about her scolding that scares you, but you're not too sure about what it is yet. Maybe its' the firm scary facial expression, or the way her words' are just straight to the point, something makes you fear the blonde.

Maybe its' the fact that shes' your hero, she used to be the one youd' look up to and aspire to be like, so to be letting her down seems like the wrong thing to do right now.

Despite your inital fear, you still can't help but act like a troublemaker.

"I don't see what the big deal is though? I'm just having fun. It's harmless, Le," You shrug your shoulders and bite her lip.

Leahs' look continues to be firm, "Enough, Y/N. You promised you would be good and if you keep on causing trouble like you are then I'm going to take away your sweet privledges for a month," She threatens you, which just seems out right criminal. "And if you make Kims' job any harder, then I'll personally make sure you're on a leash next time."

"A... A month without sweets? And a leash?" Your eyes' widen in realisation that maybe you really do need to sharpen up on your behaviour, with the threat of no sweets on the table, you need to actually do as your told now.

"Yes. A whole month without sweets and a leash. Do you understand?" Leah continues with her firm words.

Surely she's just bluffing? Like she'd actually do that, you think.

"You can't do that," You whine in protest.

"I can and I will, because as long as you live under my roof, then you follow my rules," The blonde warns you, firmly. "Do you understand?"

"But Le, that's... that's not fair!" You still can't help but whine.

"Oh this is better than reality TV," Beth chimes in from the side of the camera, where the rest of the girls are still crowded around the phone.

"Beth," Lia nudges the blonde and rolls her eyes.

"What? It's true!" Beth exclaims, shrugging her shoulders.

"It's completely fair, Y/N. I want you to have fun out there in Melbourne with the girls, but not at the expense of the every one," Leah still stands firm on her words. "Behave yourself, or there will be concequences!"

"Fine, I'll try and be good," You sigh dramatically.

"That's all I'm asking for, please," The blonde softens slightly and nods. "I'll check in with Kim later to see how you're doing. Be good, alright?" She tells you.

"Yeah, I will," You reluctantly agree with the blonde, "Now can you go and give Kyra the same lecture, cos' its' not fair if I just get in trouble for this!"

"Oh don't worry, kid. Vivs' already on that one," Beth jokes, panning the camera around to where Vivs' stood off on the other side of the room giving a lecture through the phone to Kyra to where you can even hear the tailend of the conversation. "Having fun at whos' expense? That is no way to act!"

You can't but giggle and shrug your shoulders, "Okay well that makes me feel better at least," You murmer as you wave to the rest of the girls and pass the phone back to Kim.

Leah shakes her head in amusement at your care-free attitude, "Hang in there, Kim. She'll be better now, but if she gives you any more trouble then call me, alright?" She reassures her Captain,

"You got it. Thanks, Leah. I appreciate you talk to her," Kim smiles in agreement, bidding their goodbyes and ending the phone call. "Right, you. How about we go and find the rest of the girls?" She makes the suggestion.

"Yeah, I wanna go and find out how bad of a lecture Kyra got," You smirk mischeviously at your Captain before you both exit the lobby in search for your troublemaker partner. "Race you to the lifts! Last one there's a rotten egg!" You add.

#woso x reader #woso fanfics #arsenal x reader #woso imagine #woso one shot #arsenal women x reader #arsenal wfc x reader #scribblesofagoonerr #kim little x reader #kyra cooney cross x reader #leah williamson x reader #chaos fc

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ancientgoddessofegypt · 6 months ago

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ASTROLOGY EDITION - THE SENSUAL APPEAL OF THE NAKSHATRAS

Hey, so I've been more focused on the nakshatras lately.. and love getting into how sensual, flirtatious, raw and powerful some of the nakshatras could be. I may start this off with just the nakshatras itself, focusing on the sign and its energy as opposed to the planets in each of these naks. So yeah. Lets get into it ;)

So first is up, Hasta. There the ones who really inspired me to do this so here we go.

Hasta - Delicate. Refined. Opened Hearts. Very sensual beings who know how to ease you into to their souls. They have a replenishing auras that could fulfill the desires of another. Oop, did I say that? They are indeed the temptress, the ones that will make you fall in love with, as they know you will never get anything from the in return. Having been hurt in the past, they usually carry themselves with a tight armor, only this time they know they wont have to... Because someone will always take the bait ;)

Hastas are truly amazing at crafting their hearts into the desires that they want. So much so, they'll utilize their sex appeal in order to get what they want. Very smart, coi and productive... Their like the jaguar you dont see coming. They always get what they want, because others are more than likely to give to the hastanian babe whenever they please.

Rohini - Ooooooh! They are sooo seductive. They have a quiet temper that is aroused when the right soul meets into their arms. They're only lovers for the plot. If it gets too deep and on the wrong foot then their outta here. Sorry busta!If you don't give it to them the right way, then they won't be here for long. They are only here for one purpose, and that is to fulfill their desires in more ways than one. Like their hasta friends, they know how to go for what they want, and they'll get it by any means necessary.

There temptress powers they carry can attract an audience if they let it. There touch can last for hours, penetrating into the skin like magic. They are the doorway to salvation. Pleasure is their profound language. It is a blessing and a curse to be this type of delight. A special occasion, they keep anyone anyway who is not deserving of their love.

Anuradha - I feel like this one deserves a round of applause ONLY because they do not share these gifts so easily. The people could want more but that isn't enough. Once they get a hold of your tempting magic people will definitely try and take you to the pits of hell. So its kept in a jar, locked away for a while until the anuradha babe is ready to go for the kill. When she wants it, she will. And when mama's hungry, shes gonna eat ;) Siren-like eyes that can penetrate into your soul. It can spook you ;) But all the Anuradha wants is to entice, it is how she gets what she desires. She has a flow that is naturally pulling like the Jyestha, we don't know what it is but its powerful, convincing, and its rare. The anuradha is the type to pull yu in, to the point that when she catches you in her spell.. she will eat you alive. Its better to stay away if you dont want to be bit, but her allure is just so damn powerful. It'll have you begging for more.

Krittikas - Their raw sexuality will pour into your skin, and before you know it.. they've already gotten you into their mini web. Darling.. the ones who where this nakshatra on their sleeves use every bit of their power to seduce the right one.. sometimes it catches others too. There striking presence keeps the others wondering where have they been all of their life. The one who moves to the beat of their own drum, tameless. It is why so many try to focus on wooing you in order to make you into what THEY want you to be.. and you beat em at their game every time. The seductive prowess they carry show a reflective force from the moon down to the sun, with its rays being so powerful it has everyone looking at them.. waiting to explore what is deep inside the krittika, only to be found later in their dungeon. Taking their souls, and never to be heard of again.

Shravana - They have a very powerful aura that pushes the narrative about themselves. They have the gift that keeps on giving. They know what to do with their seduction, its the one that gets them the highest bidder! What shapes you, is the power of the mind, the soul and the spirit. So they do themselves the diligence to create from within, and not without. They are hungry to learn more about their presence as their gifts connect to the souls of thousands.. What I mean is that these babes have a gift of opening up the godlike force that many try to emulate.. but many can't do. There seductive prowess inspires thousands to watch them as they watch to the shravana native, craving for their affection.. As they can be so very giving, but with a price. It all comes down to them wanting to be at the top, and they'll whatever they can to get it. It comes with a sense of ease, and they'll choose their favorite worshiper to teach ;)

Mula - HOT HOT HOT!!!!!! They don't even know how deep this goes.. but they penetrate into your skin with no effort. There gift is in spiking you with their mind, and leading you in with their heart.. They know how to entice you into doing for them and fitting to their needs.. You wont even blink an eye and yet wont even care. You'll just be glad to be in their presence is all. They have a special aura that most find pretty enchanting, and their souls spark a conversation one what makes them so unique.. because most people are mystified by them and begin to take notes.. but they will never know what that is to be exact. Which is what makes their seductive prowess just that damn good. It exists for them and them alone.. if they decide to share this with you consider yourself LUCKY.. Because they like you more than the rest, and who they are and how they carry themselves is a gift you when they want to share it.. Whew.. they'll really touch you in ways you won't forget.

I will post on the rest of them soon. Let me know in the comments how you feel about the nakshatras !!

#rohini #krittika #jytesha #astro vedic #vedic astrology #vedic astro notes #vedic astro observations #astrology sidereal #sidereal charts #sidereal astro #astro observations

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juuuulez · 7 months ago

Text

📰 | dessert.

i can imagine being woken up at ridiculous hours because carmen needs you to try a dish…anyway that’s what this is + domesticity + husband carmy + soft pregnancy vibes.

short and sweet.

You’re lying half-asleep in bed, vaguely tethered to reality by the distant clanging of pots and pans. It isn’t enough to fully wake you, too comfortable buried under the thick blankets, having finally found the perfect position where your stomach doesn’t seem to get in the way.

Which, lately, it’s always in the way.

The door creaks open, and Carmen’s footsteps are quiet, feather-light. He sits down at the edge of the bed, one hand nudging your shoulder, the other guiding a spoon into a little dish he sits on his lap.

The movement rouses you just enough, gaining the smallest inkling of consciousness. It’s in front of your face and pressing against your lips before the awareness can fully set in, velvety chocolate coating your tongue. The taste is thick, yet not overwhelming, somehow both dense and light at the same time. Maybe some sort of mousse.

“That’s.. yeah, ‘s good..” You mumble, eyes blinking open blearily to twist slightly on the bed, moving to face him. The movement causes your shirt to ride up, not bothering to tug it down, despite the slight chill that spreads over your stomach.

Carmen’s hand finds the edge of the duvet, pulling it to cover your body properly. “Good?” He echos. “Just good? C’mon, baby. Gotta give me a bit more than that.”

You suck in a breath, resisting the temptation to fall back asleep, which has amplified now that he’s finally next to you. It has to be around 1am, at this point. Usually, the baby keeps you up, kicking incessantly, but it seems the little bear has finally quietened down. Not Carmy, though.

“I dunno, Carm. I like it,” You sigh, eyes fluttering closed. “It’s good.”

Without your gaze on him, Carmen looks down at the dish, staring into the ceramic bowl like it’s his worst enemy. About a thousand things run through his mind, all with the primary focus being perfecting the desert.

“Yeah, okay..” He’s resigned, already making a move to try and stand. The motion causes you to stir again, a hand blindly fumbling with his wrist to pull it back in.

“No, don’t take it away. I’m not done.” You protest.

The spoon has already been caught between your fingers, and Carmen doesn’t have it in him to stop you. It penetrates the light mixture with ease, scooping another mouthful of the light mousse between your lips.

“It’s not right,” Carmen would say, sounding so utterly defeated. “You don’t have to eat it.”

You simply shrug, having already gone back for the last little piece. “I wanna eat it. I’m hungry.”

The smile threatens to return to Carmy’s face. With the renovations underway, he’s been missing his time in the kitchen. So, he brings it home. Working endlessly on new recipes, testing menu variations, anything to keep his mind running. Maybe the notion of having a child is starting to freak him out a little, so the work serves as a distraction.

“Hungry?” He repeats, “Weren’t you just asleep?”

“Well, I’m awake now. Might as well eat.

It’s a sound argument, and Carmen knows not to push it. He’s just lucky that you’re always so willing to put up with him like this. So, he puts the empty dish down, taking the spoon and laying it on the bedside counter.

He’ll stroke your hair while you chew the last mouthful, your eyes coming to a soft close. There’s some chocolate on your lip, which Carmen swipes off with his thumb, before sucking the digit into his mouth. It doesn’t taste that bad.

“I’ll join you soon.” He promises, leaning down to place a chaste kiss to the same spot. You give a small grunt in response, wanting to persuade him otherwise, but not having the energy to do so.

You’ve already melted back into the pillow, happy and sated with the taste of chocolate on your tongue.

#carmen berzatto x you #carmen berzatto x reader #the bear fx #the bear x you #carmen berzatto

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sanguineterrain · 1 year ago

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Hi again 😊 You suggested i could send another prompt, sooo… maybe you & Jason have been together awhile, and you’re kidnapped by (choose your villain) and Jason is worried and frantic but trying to not show it of course, and negotiating for your safety? Ends up rescuing you of course, in whichever way you prefer, and then they find comfort in each-other 💗

I haven’t had time or energy to work on my WIP lately so this is very lovely and gratifying 😂👌🏻💗

aghh that's the worst! wishing you luck on your wip!! i'm glad you like these <3 requests are open for jason, dick, and MAWS!clark kent btw!

this one is very batfam focused hehehe. ft dramatic ass jason and his surprise kidnapped fiancé lol.

jason todd x gn!reader. tw: violence, kidnapped reader, reader is pushed off a building for a moment but they're okay dw <3, batfam feels, jason being a protective bf, bruce being a GOOD DAD! c:

****

"Actually, if we're being honest, if anyone has the most trauma in this family, it's—"

Batman grunts. "Really, Spoiler, not now."

The comm line crackles as Stephanie sniffs. "Fine. Stay in denial."

"Bats."

Every bat and bird in Gotham goes still.

"Hood?" Barbara asks carefully, already tracking his comm link.

"Oracle," he says, clipped. "I'm gonna get right to it: I need a favor. Can you help? Yes or no."

"Little Wing, where have you been?" Dick asks. "We've all—"

"Shut up, Nightwing," Jason growls. "Either you help me or not. Which is it?"

"We'll help you, Hood," Bruce says, voice washing over Jason like a balm.

Jason takes a deep breath. It's okay. He'll find you. Batman always beats the bad guys.

He fiddles with his jacket zipper. Moments tick by. Dick remains crouched on a rooftop. Damian is similarly poised.

"My..." Jason swallows. "My... fiancé's been taken."

The comm explodes with noise. Jason winces and digs the bud out of his ear for several seconds.

"Fiancé?!"

"You're getting married—"

"When was this—"

"Who are—"

"Enough," Jason growls, finally shoving the bud back into his ear. "I don't have fucking time for this. Yes, I am engaged, and they've been taken. No more questions."

"Tt. You are engaged? Impossible. Batman, clearly someone has hacked the line pretending to be Hood," Damian says, folding his arms.

Jason rolls his eyes. "Believe it or not, demon bird, I found someone crazy enough to marry me."

"Little Wing, I—I'm really proud of—"

"Shut up!" Jason pinches the bridge of his nose. This was a bad idea. You're in trouble, and Jason intends to tear Gotham apart to find you, but involving his family? Has he really stooped so low...

Deep breath. His focus is you. You're the only person that matters.

"Look, I'm telling you because Oracle's tracking me anyway, and B would snoop until he figured out who I'm really looking for, so it's easier to just tell you. But make no mistake: you aren't my family, and you won't see us again after tonight."

Bruce's throat tightens. His cape flutters in the wind.

"Very well," he says after a couple beats. "Last known location?"

"I'm sending you the address now. I've retraced my steps a hundred times though, and I can't—" Jason grits his teeth. He can't tear up or break things, not again. "Fuck. I can't fucking find them, B. I... I don't know if-if maybe I'm too late—"

"You're not," Dick says automatically. "We'll find them, Little Wing. We'll bring them home."

****

Your head is on fire.

It feels like there's a thousand needles pelting your skull. Whatever you were drugged with, it's hard stuff, and it hasn't worn away yet.

You look up; you're gagged and tied to some kind of support beam. As your vision clears, you see that you're in one of the new high rise-in-progress. Only the skeleton of the building has been completed because if Bruce Wayne isn't involved, construction takes forever to complete.

Faintly, you recall Jason mentioning something about a construction company leaving half finished projects across the country and using them as havens for criminal activities.

Yeah. This is not good.

"Where the fuck is he?" The voice echoes across the concrete floor foundation.

"Mike, we sent—"

"I don't give a fuck what you did; obviously, you screwed up! He's not coming!"

You close your eyes, trying not to throw up on your gag. Your head spins when you open your eyes again.

Who's not coming? Your rescuer? Or somebody worse than your kidnappers?

You try to take a deep breath, but your chest tightens instead.

"Fine," Mike barks in the adjacent room. "If that hooded psychopath doesn't show up, we'll just dump this one. That'll send a message. Prepare the explosives."

A door swings open, and you flinch. You cower, shrinking from the figure.

"You better hope he shows," the guy growls, and cocks his gun. "Your boyfriend is the only reason you're still alive. It'll be such fun to watch him fall to his death, don't you think?"

You try not to show your swelling panic. How does he know about you and Jason? And you have to warn him. Explosives. Jason's walking straight into a trap, without backup, because you know he'll be alone. He always works alone.

Mike sneers and waves the gun around.

"Oh, yeah. I know your secrets. In bed with Gotham's biggest crime lord. You must be his favorite. I can see why."

"Mike!" someone shouts. "We got company!"

Mike's eyes blaze cruelly. "Showtime. You're coming with me."

You thrash as hard as you can because if there's one thing Jason taught you, it's to always fight back.

Mike backhands you hard enough to send you sprawling. Your hands are bound, so you can't catch yourself, and you hit your head on the concrete. Blood pools in your gums.

"Try that shit again, bitch," he snarls, and hefts you up.

He drags you up a flight of stairs. Your head throbs, and now your jaw aches. You're too dizzy to try to fight back again.

You end up on the roof, which is a miasma of beams and wooden lattices. Wind cuts through your face, and you close your eyes so they don't water.

"Hood!" Mike crows. "Wonderful of you to join us!"

"Wish I could say the same," Jason says, and your heart leaps at the sound of his voice.

You start to shout through your gag because you have to warn him. It's a trap, he'll kill you both—

Mike wraps his arm around your throat and squeezes. Air stops, and you choke on your cries.

"I'll kill you," Jason snarls, and you know he wants to say more, but he's trying to protect you. "Let them go and maybe I won't break every bone in your body."

"Oh, don't worry. You two will be reunited soon. What is it they say? Love blinds you?"

"Michael Cassidy," a new voice says, deep and deadly. "Let go of the hostage. We can talk this out."

You crack open your eyes. Is that... Batman? And Robin? And... Nightwing? What—

The arm around your throat tightens and you gasp for air as you start to choke for real. Oh God. Batman's going to die because of you.

"You involved Batman?" Mike snarls, now truly irate. You feel yourself being dragged backward, toward the edge. Your stomach rolls in warning.

"Take it easy," Batman says, palms up. "We can work this out."

"You can't play fair?" Mike shouts. "Then neither will I!"

The wood beneath your feet is gone. You're falling.

"No!"

But no sooner than you fall are you caught. Warm arms encircle your waist, and you're jerked to a stop before you can fall more than a few feet.

"I got you, baby, I got you."

Jason is connected to a grapple. At the roof edge is Batman, Nightwing, and Spoiler, all holding the grapple.

You shake your head, screaming against your gag. Bomb. Bomb!

"'S alright, 's alright, sweetheart, I won't drop you."

You scream urgently through your gag, butting your head against his helmet. Jason pulls your gag half free and you choke out the warning.

"B-bomb!"

His grip tightens. "Shit. B, get out of here! Place is rigged to blow!"

The first explosion goes off. Jason meets your gaze. He's terrified, you can tell, but he tries to mask it.

"Let go," he says.

"Wh—"

"He'll catch you," Jason promises. "I trust him."

And then he lets go.

Several more explosions go off. The building begins to crumble. Dust and heat sweep across your face and lodge in your already sore throat. You scream, in the air for a few more seconds.

Then you crash into gray body armor. A cowl, a cape.

"It's alright," Batman gruffly says. "Hold on tight."

Batman swings you both to safety on an adjacent rooftop. You watch him dive back into the flames. It isn't long before Jason swings out of the smoke, then the others. He pulls off his helmet and tosses it to the side, arms open.

You run and bury your face in Jason's neck, clinging to him. He hugs your tightly and rubs your back, saying over and over, I got you.

You sigh and slacken out of exhaustion.

"I've got you, baby," he says, though his voice is wet this time. "You're safe."

Jason checks over your wounds. You see the rage cross his face several times at every bruise and cut on you. He doesn't let go of you even after he's done. He's shaking too, perhaps more than you, as he cuts your binds and completely removes your gag.

The Bats land gracefully behind you. Jason stiffens as they do.

You kiss his jaw. His gaze returns to you.

"You saved me," you say.

"I always will," he says. "Always."

"Are either of you injured?"

Batman suddenly swishes to your side. You blink, startled.

"Nothing serious," you say. Jason grunts unhappily at that. You manage a smile. "Thank you. All of you. Thank you so much."

Jason nods stiffly. "Thanks, Bats."

Nightwing smiles, face soft with affection. "'Course, Hood. And, uh, Hood's fiancé. We're there any time you need us."

"That's right, chum," Batman says. The obvious care in his voice makes you ache.

Jason had called his family. His family with whom he has a plethora of problems. He'd called them for you.

"Jay," you say, voice thick with emotion. He seems to understand instantly.

"I'll always bring you home," he vows, cupping your face. "Whatever it takes."

He pulls you to him like he can't bear to be away from you any longer.

You squeeze his wrists. "I know. It's okay, Jay. I'm okay."

Out of the corner of your eye, you see that the Bats still have not dispersed. Spoiler looks like she's about to melt into a puddle. Nightwing is the same. Even Batman looks a little sentimental.

Robin is the only one scowling, tapping his foot impatiently.

"Hood, are you not going to introduce your fiance-we-just-learned-existed-tonight?" Robin asks, arms folded.

Jason huffs. "Not with those manners, demon brat."

You roll your eyes and extend your hand to Batman. You say your name, smiling.

"It's an honor to meet you, sir," you say.

Batman laughs, and it sounds a little fond. It's also kind of weird to hear Batman laugh. "No sir necessary. It's equally an honor to meet the person my son is marrying."

Jason makes a choked little noise. You beam.

"Well," Batman murmurs. "We'll let you two get home. We'll track down the rest of Michael's thugs—"

"Come to the wedding," Jason blurts.

Batman stills. "Me?" he asks carefully.

"Everybody," Jason says, tugging you into his side. "Uncle Clark, Aunt Diana, Selina, your ten thousand kids, everyone."

He turns to you. "I-I mean, as long as that's okay with you, baby."

"Oh, Jay. It's your family. Of course I want them to come." You lean in to whisper in his ear. "I'm proud of you."

"Little Wing, c'mere!"

Nightwing tackles Jason in a hug, then drags Robin, who protests loudly, in by his cape. Spoiler snaps a picture from the sideline.

"Now that's adorable," she says.

Batman looks at you. He removes his cowl, and you gasp quietly. He smiles, and it makes him look decades younger. You guess he hasn't smiled much since he lost Jason.

"Thank you," he says.

You tilt your head. "For what?"

"For bringing him back to us."

You duck your head. "Oh, Mr. Wayne, that wasn't me—"

"Bruce," he corrects gently. "And it was. You played a bigger part than you know. You saved him. Thank you."

#jason todd x reader #jason todd x you #jason todd x y/n #jason todd x yn #jason todd imagine #jason todd fanfiction #red hood x reader #red hood x you #red hood x y/n #red hood fanfiction #batman fanfiction #batfam fanfiction #dc fanfiction #inbox #blurb

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rootedinrevisions · 2 months ago

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Jealousy in Motion

SUMMARY: Tired of waiting for Damian and Rhea to make their moves, you and Jey decide to stir things up with a little game of jealousy. What starts as harmless flirting at a club quickly turns into a night of heated glances and rising tension.

WARNINGS: Teasing, Alcohol Use

WORD COUNT: 4.9k

OTHER PART(S): PART 2

TAG LIST: @miss-kuki-nz I @just-another-personal-side-blog I @caramara3 I @yana3sworld I @terrortwinunicorn I @hotwheels1108

The backstage area of the arena buzzed with the usual pre-show energy—wrestlers preparing for their matches, production staff rushing around, and the distant hum of the crowd filtering in through the walls.

You found yourself leaning against a storage crate backstage, your eyes drifting to Damian as he finished lacing his boots. The sight of him—tall, imposing, tattoos snaking across his arms and shoulders and back to his back—always sent a thrill through you. He was magnetic, and you had been caught in his orbit for months now. But as you watched him, the ache of wanting more twisted in your chest.

"Ready for tonight?" you asked your voice light, hoping to catch his attention.

Damian looked up, his expression as casual as ever. He offered a half-smirk, nodding. “Always am. You?”

You shrugged, trying to play it cool even though your heart wasn’t in it. “Yeah, feeling good. Maybe I’ll catch your match later, see what you beat up Dom.”

He chuckled, that deep, resonant sound that always sent shivers down your spine. “Yeah? I’ll make sure to put on a show for you, then.”

It was the same banter you’d had a hundred times. Light, playful, but never deeper. You’d heard a few people backstage gossip about how Damian seemed to have eyes for you—how he was different when you were around. But standing here now, you weren’t so sure. If he did have feelings, he never showed it in a way that mattered.

You glanced around, checking to see if anyone was nearby. Then you stepped a little closer, just close enough that your arm brushed against his as you leaned in. “You know,” you started, your voice a little lower, “I’ve been thinking...”

He raised an eyebrow, his attention still on you but with the same calm, unreadable expression he always had. “About?”

You hesitated for a beat, trying to gauge his reaction before continuing. “About how...maybe we could hang out outside of work. You know, not just...the usual.”

There it was—your not-so-subtle hint. You felt the tension rise between you, hoping he’d finally catch on.

But Damian just chuckled again, brushing it off like it was nothing. “We hang out all the time,” he said, standing up and stretching his arms. “Just hung out with you last night, didn’t I?”

You swallowed the disappointment that settled in your stomach. Yeah, last night. When he’d snuck into your hotel room after his match, spent the night with you, and then slipped out before anyone could see. The same routine you’d been doing for three or four months. But it wasn’t enough anymore—not for you, anyway.

“Right,” you murmured, forcing a smile. “Just last night.”

You took a step back, crossing your arms as you tried to shake off the frustration that was building. Every time you hinted at the idea of something more, it was like he didn’t get it—or maybe he didn’t want to get it. And now you were starting to think that the rumors, all the whispers about him being into you, were just that: rumors.

It wasn’t that Damian wasn’t kind or caring—he was, in his own way. But you wanted more than secret rendezvous and stolen moments behind closed doors. You wanted to be his. His girlfriend. Not just the girl he came to when he needed to blow off steam.

“You know,” you started again, your voice quieter now, “sometimes I feel like I’m just your dirty little secret.”

Damian’s eyes flickered with something—surprise, maybe. But he quickly masked it with that same casual demeanor, shrugging it off like it didn’t matter. “Come on, don’t say that,” he said, offering you a grin. “You know it’s not like that.”

But you weren’t so sure anymore. You sighed, your shoulders slumping as you realized he wasn’t going to get it—not tonight, maybe not ever. “Right. It’s not like that.”

You turned away, trying to put some distance between you before the sting of rejection hit too hard. You were stuck in this endless cycle—always wanting more, always hoping he’d step up and make things real. But as the weeks that turned into months had dragged on, it was becoming painfully clear that maybe you were just the secret he kept from everyone else.

Damian stepped closer, his hand gently grazing your arm. “Hey, don’t get in your head about it. You know I care about you.”

You nodded, but the words didn’t hit the way you wanted them to. You knew he cared—but was it enough?

With one last glance at him, you gave a small smile, though it didn’t quite reach your eyes. “Yeah. I know.”

But deep down, you weren’t sure how much longer you could keep pretending that was enough.

The low hum of chatter echoed through the hallway as you made your way backstage after your match. The adrenaline from the night still coursed through your veins, but it wasn’t the excitement of the crowd or the rush of getting another win that had you on edge. It was Damian. Or rather, the frustrating conversation from earlier in the evening that had been bugging you ever since.

As you turned the corner, you spotted your friend Jey Uso leaning against a crate, his eyes locked down the hall where Rhea Ripley was doing an interview with Cathy Kelly. A smirk tugged at your lips as you sauntered over, nudging him with your shoulder.

“Not gonna make your move?” you teased, raising an eyebrow.

Jey’s gaze didn’t leave Rhea, but he smiled, shaking his head. “Not sure she’s even noticed, to be honest,” he admitted, his voice light but tinged with frustration.

You laughed, crossing your arms as you leaned beside him. “Oh, she’s noticed, trust me.”

His eyebrow arched as he glanced your way, curious. “Yeah?”

You nodded, casting a glance down the hall at Rhea, who was still mid-interview. “We’re close. You don’t even know how many times I’ve had to listen to her talk about you in the last few weeks. Pretty sure she’s more interested than you think.”

Jey’s grin widened, but it quickly faded when his eyes flicked back to Rhea. There was something vulnerable in his expression, like he wasn’t sure if he should believe you or keep playing it safe. You could see why he’d hesitate; he and Rhea had been circling each other for a while now, both giving mixed signals but never making the first big move.

Just then, Rhea’s eyes darted in your direction, and for a split second, you caught the way her face changed. She’d seen you and Jey talking, standing close, and a flicker of something unmistakable flashed in her eyes—jealousy.

A slow grin spread across your face as an idea began to form. You nudged Jey again, leaning closer as you whispered, “She’s jealous.”

He blinked, his focus snapping to you. “What?”

You nodded, motioning subtly in Rhea’s direction. “She sees us talking. I know that look.”

Jey’s eyes shifted to Rhea, and when he saw the way she was glancing at the two of you between interview questions, his grin returned. “Damn, you think?”

“I know,” you said confidently, the idea cementing in your mind now. “You going out with some of the crew after the show?”

Jey smirked, standing up straighter. “You know I keep it lit on the dance floor, baby.”

You laughed at his swagger, but your mind was already spinning. This could work. This could solve both your problems. “I’ve got an idea,” you started, lowering your voice as your eyes flicked back to Rhea and then down the hall where Damian had just passed by, his attention elsewhere.

Jey tilted his head, intrigued. “What’s that?”

You leaned closer, a mischievous smile pulling at your lips. “We’re gonna make them jealous. You and me. A little flirting, some dancing, maybe getting a little too close for comfort. That’ll get their attention.”

Jey’s eyebrow shot up, his smile turning more playful. “You trying to stir the pot, huh?”

“I’m trying to get Damian to step up,” you said, sighing. “He’s been...distant. Or, I don’t know, maybe just not getting the hint. But I know him. He won’t like another guy getting close to me.”

Jey chuckled, crossing his arms as he considered your plan. “And Rhea? You think she’s gonna bite?”

“Oh, she will,” you assured him. “She’s already looking over here like she’s ready to step in. Trust me, once she sees you and me getting close, she’s not gonna let it slide. She’ll make her move.”

Jey thought it over for a moment, the gears turning in his head as he glanced back toward Rhea one last time. Then he smiled, that signature confident grin of his, and nodded. “Alright. Let’s do it. If it gets her to stop playing games, I’m in.”

You couldn’t help the grin that spread across your face as your plan fell into place. “Good. Pick me up at 11. Room 4112.”

Jey nodded, flashing you a wink before turning to head off, but not before you gave him one last parting shot. “And make sure you bring your A-game, Uce. We’re gonna have some fun tonight.”

He laughed over his shoulder. “Oh, don’t worry. I always do.”

As he walked away, you glanced back toward Rhea, who was still watching. The look on her face told you everything you needed to know. The game had just begun, and tonight, things were finally going to get interesting.

The night air was cool as you walked side by side with Damian toward the parking lot, your boots crunching softly against the asphalt. The energy from the show still buzzed around the arena, but out here, it was quieter. Just you and him, under the soft glow of the streetlights. You glanced up at him, taking in his relaxed demeanor, the way his hands rested casually in his pockets. It should’ve been a perfect moment. But your frustration still simmered beneath the surface, a constant reminder of the limbo you were stuck in with him.

“So…” Damian started, breaking the silence, his voice low and casual. “I heard a few of the guys are heading to some bar after the show.” He glanced over at you, his dark eyes searching yours. “You wanna go?”

You almost smirked, but you caught yourself. Of course, now he wanted to hang out. Now that you were making moves to get his attention.

Instead, you played it off, pretending to be a little caught off guard as you reached for your keys. “Oh, uh… I’m actually already going with Jey.”

Damian stopped walking for just a second, his brow furrowing in confusion. “Jey? Like… Uso?”

You nodded with a smile, keeping your tone light. “Yeah. He asked me earlier if I wanted to go with him.”

Damian’s expression shifted, just for a moment, but it was enough. You caught the flicker in his eyes, something sharp and possessive flashing behind his otherwise calm exterior. Bingo. Your plan was already starting to work. But you didn’t want to push too hard too soon. You had to play this carefully.

“But maybe I’ll see you there, though?”

Damian’s jaw tightened just slightly, and he gave a small nod. “Yeah. Maybe.”

You could see the tension in his posture now, the way his jaw clenched briefly before relaxing again. This was what you had wanted—Damian’s attention. But now that you had it, there was something almost thrilling about making him stew just a little longer.

You turned to get into your rental car, turning to give him a final smile before you closed the door. “See you later, Damian.”

He nodded again, though his gaze lingered on you longer than it usually did. “Yeah. See you.”

As you pulled out of the parking lot and headed back toward the hotel, you couldn’t help but grin to yourself. Damian’s reaction was exactly what you had hoped for. The flash of jealousy, the uncertainty. He wasn’t oblivious anymore.

Tonight was only going to get more interesting.

You hadn’t been on the road for more than a few minutes when your phone lit up with Rhea’s name. You smiled to yourself, already knowing where this conversation was going to lead. You had a feeling Damian had talked to Rhea and that was the reason for her call. Keeping one hand on the wheel, you tapped the screen to answer.

“Hey, Rhea. What’s up?”

“Hey,” she replied, her usual confident tone slightly off, a hint of something uncertain hiding underneath. “So, I heard a few of us are going out tonight after the show. You in?”

You bit your lip, holding back a grin. Here we go.

“Oh, yeah, I’m going. Jey actually asked me to ride with him.”

There was a brief pause on the other end, and you could almost picture the way her brow furrowed in surprise. “Jey asked you?”

You made your voice sound casual, as if the question wasn’t loaded with the tension you knew she was feeling. “Yeah. He asked me before the show if I wanted to join him. Sounded fun, so I figured, why not?”

Rhea didn’t reply immediately, and you caught the slightest edge of jealousy creeping into her voice when she finally spoke again. “I thought you were just blowing Damian off when you said that.”

The corner of your mouth lifted as you kept your gaze on the road. “Nope, Jey actually asked me. I mean, Damian hadn’t said anything, and clubs aren’t always his thing. So I figured, why not go with someone else, right?”

You could hear her shift on the other end of the call, probably trying to find the right words to respond without giving herself away completely. “Right... I guess I just didn’t realize you two were, you know, hanging out outside of work like that.”

Your smile widened. She was trying to play it cool, but the jealousy was there, simmering just under the surface. Your plan was working, just like you hoped it would.

“Yeah, well, Jey’s seems fun to hang out with,” you said, keeping your tone as light and innocent as possible. “I guess we’ll see what happens. Maybe I’ll see you there though?”

Rhea hesitated again, and you could hear the unspoken questions swirling in her head. “Yeah... maybe.”

You ended the call and couldn’t help but feel satisfied with how things were playing out. Damian’s possessiveness had already started to show, and now you had Rhea on edge too. The night was shaping up exactly how you planned, and it was only going to get better from here.

The thumping bass of the music hit you the moment you stepped into the club, the energy of the crowd buzzing in the air. You and Jey walked in together, fashionably late, just as you’d planned. You scanned the room, catching sight of Damian and Rhea almost immediately. They were at the bar, exactly where you hoped they’d be. Perfect.

Jey’s hand rested lightly on the small of your back as he guided you through the crowd, both of you pretending not to notice the two people you were trying to get a rise out of. It was part of the plan, after all. You could feel eyes on you—probably Rhea’s, maybe even Damian’s—but you kept your focus on Jey, playing your part flawlessly.

As you reached the bar, Jey leaned in close, his voice low and playful against your ear. But also just loud enough for the two people standing next to you to hear him say it. “What you drinking tonight, baby?”

You tilted your head up, locking eyes with him as you smiled. “Hmm, I don’t know. What do you think I should start with?”

He chuckled, his arm draping casually over your shoulder as he signaled the bartender. “Let’s start with something light,” he suggested, glancing down at you with a grin. “I gotta keep you in good shape for the dance floor later.”

You grin at him and pretend to reach for your purse but he reaches out and stops you. “Nah, I got you tonight, baby.”

You laughed, nudging him slightly. “You really know how to take care of a girl, Jey. That’s sweet.”

The way you said it wasn’t lost on anyone. It wasn’t just a simple compliment, not with the way you let your fingers trail down his arm as you spoke, or the soft smile you gave him as you tilted your head just slightly, enough to let anyone watching see the ease between you two. You could feel the tension coming from behind Jey, the way Damian and Rhea were likely taking in every detail, even if they were trying to hide it.

Jey played along perfectly, his own smile widening as he leaned just a bit closer. “Sweet, huh? Maybe you’re rubbing off on me.”

You laughed again, the sound light and easy, and let your hand rest on his chest, feeling the heat from his body through his shirt. “Maybe I am.”

As the bartender handed over your drinks, Jey slid one toward you, his fingers brushing yours. You could practically feel the weight of the stares coming from behind you, and it took everything in you not to glance back at Damian and Rhea. But you knew better than to break character now. The game had only just begun.

As you lifted your drink to your lips, you felt Jey's hand lightly graze your back again, the touch casual but deliberate enough to keep up appearances. The warmth of the alcohol mixed with the buzz of the club had you feeling confident, ready for whatever came next. You tilted your head, flashing Jey a smile before turning away from the bar, deciding it was time to up the ante.

With your drink in hand, you turned to leave the bar, making sure to brush close enough to Jey that it would look as if you were moving together. As you did, you caught sight of Damian and Rhea out of the corner of your eye.

Damian’s eyes were locked on you, his brow slightly furrowed, and you could see the way his jaw tightened as he watched you interact with Jey. It was subtle, but you knew Damian well enough to recognize the telltale signs of his possessiveness flaring up. You let your lips curl into a smirk, satisfaction blooming in your chest. The plan was working.

Rhea was standing next to him, drink in hand, but her expression was much less controlled. Her gaze flickered between you and Jey, and there was no mistaking the spark of jealousy in her eyes. Her lips were set in a thin line, her posture stiff as she watched you practically draped against Jey. You knew that look—she didn’t like it one bit.

You exchanged a knowing glance with Jey, and as he flashed you a grin, you couldn’t help but feel a surge of triumph.

Turning back to Jey, he leaned in just a little closer, his voice low enough for only you to hear. “I think they’re starting to notice,” he whispered, the amusement in your tone unmistakable.

You chuckled, his hand resting on your hip as you reached up on your tip toes to reply. “Told you this was gonna be fun.”

You straightened, taking a slow sip of your drink before glancing back in Damian and Rhea’s direction, letting your gaze linger just long enough to make sure they saw. Damian’s dark eyes hadn’t left you, and Rhea’s fingers tightened around her glass as she muttered something under her breath to Damian.

Satisfied, you turned your attention back to Jey, the smirk still playing on your lips. “Looks like round one goes to us.”

Jey raised his glass in a silent toast, a mischievous grin lighting up his face. “Oh, we’re just getting started.”

The tension in the air was palpable now, the game in full swing. All you had to do was keep pushing the right buttons, and Damian and Rhea would break. And when they did, it was going to be so worth it.

After a few more rounds of playful banter at the bar, you felt Jey’s fingers gently brush against your arm, pulling your attention back to him. His smile was easy, mischievous, as if he had something up his sleeve.

“You know what we need to do now?” he asked, his eyes glinting.

You raised an eyebrow, playing along. “What’s that?”

He straightened up, looking over toward the packed dance floor, where bodies swayed and pulsed to the heavy beat of the music. “We gotta hit the dance floor. I promised you I’d keep it lit, remember?”

You bit your lip, already anticipating what was about to happen. Glancing over to where Damian and Rhea were still standing, you noticed Damian’s eyes briefly flicker in your direction before shifting away, as if he were doing his best to act unaffected.

Perfect.

Jey reached out his hand, palm up in a silent invitation, and without hesitation, you slipped your hand into his. He gave it a slight tug, pulling you closer, and the two of you made your way through the crowd toward the center of the dance floor, where the music seemed to throb even louder.

As soon as you reached the middle, Jey spun you around with a playful grin and pulled you close. Your back pressed against his chest, and his hands naturally found their place on your hips, guiding you in time with the music. The moment you started moving together, everything else seemed to fall away—the lights, the noise, the crowd—it was just you and Jey, playing the game you both knew so well.

Jey leaned down, his voice low and teasing in your ear. “This okay for you?”

You nodded and then leaned your head back, resting it on Jey’s shoulder. There weren’t many guys on the roster you would let hold you and touch you the way Jey was. But you trusted Jey. You knew he wouldn’t push it too far.

He then whispered into your ear, “They’re already watching. You ready for this?”

You laughed softly, your fingers resting over his hands as you started swaying together. “Oh, I’m ready.”

The two of you moved effortlessly in sync, your bodies shifting and swaying with the rhythm, close enough to leave little to the imagination for anyone watching. The heat from Jey’s hands on your waist and the feel of his body behind yours made it easy to slip into the role you needed to play, pretending to be lost in the moment, when in reality, your mind was focused on one thing—getting Damian’s attention.

Your hands glided up, grazing Jey’s forearms lightly as if you were completely comfortable with his touch. But in reality, you were simply waiting for the exact moment to strike.

With a subtle glance over your shoulder, your eyes scanned the room until they found Damian.

There he was—standing by the bar, his drink forgotten in his hand, his jaw clenched as he watched the two of you. Even from this distance, you could see the flash of frustration in his eyes, the way his posture had shifted from relaxed to tense. The possessive gleam that flickered there was unmistakable, and it sent a jolt of satisfaction through you. He wasn’t liking this at all.

Jey’s hands tightened slightly on your hips, his voice brushing your ear again, a knowing edge in his tone. “Think he’s mad yet?”

You smirked, your eyes never leaving Damian’s. “Oh, he’s definitely mad.”

As the music continued to pound, you took things up a notch. You pressed your body closer to Jey’s, your movements slowing down, becoming more deliberate, more intimate. Your hips swayed against his as his hands followed your lead, guiding your rhythm.

You let your head rest back against his shoulder, your lips close to his ear as you murmured something irrelevant into his ear, loud enough for Damian to see but not hear. Jey chuckled, playing along perfectly, his lips grazing your ear as he responded, though you didn’t even need to hear the words to know you were in sync.

Finally, you couldn’t resist it any longer. You looked back across the room, and your eyes met Damian’s. His gaze was locked on yours, burning with a mix of jealousy and frustration that made your heart race. His body was tense, his grip on his drink so tight you were surprised the glass hadn’t shattered in his hand.

You smirked, letting him see just how much fun you were having, knowing that this was driving him wild. And it was working. The game you and Jey had started was finally beginning to pay off.

Damian wasn’t going to let this go much longer—you could feel it in the way his eyes bore into you, dark and heated. He was on the edge of stepping in, of making his move. And you were more than ready for it.

Jey must have sensed it too because his grip on your hips tightened slightly, and he whispered in your ear, “Any minute now.”

You nodded, your smirk widening. “He’s almost there.”

As the music pulsed around you, the tension between you and Damian crackled in the air like electricity. You could practically feel his frustration, his desire to intervene, and the satisfaction of knowing your plan was working filled you with excitement.

Before you realize it, Damian is weaving his way through the crowd, his eyes locked on you and Jey. The intensity in his gaze makes your heart race, knowing that this moment is exactly what you had been waiting for. Jey, clearly noticing Damian’s approach, doesn’t hesitate. He steps back just as Damian reaches you, offering a quick nod and a knowing smile.

"Mind if I cut in?" Damian asks, his voice low but commanding, half-expecting Jey to protest. But Jey just motions toward you with a grin, as if to say, “All yours.”

With Jey stepping aside, Damian wastes no time. His hands immediately find your waist, pulling you back against his solid, muscular chest. His grip is firm, possessive, and the heat of his body seeps into you as he takes control of the moment. The atmosphere shifts, and it feels as though the entire room fades away, leaving just the two of you in the middle of the pulsing crowd.

Damian leans down, his breath hot against your skin as he presses a soft kiss to your temple. You shiver, the intimate gesture sending a thrill through you, but it’s what he says next that really makes your pulse quicken.

“You let him touch what’s mine,” he whispers, his voice laced with both frustration and desire.

You turn your head slightly, just enough to catch his dark gaze. Your heart skips a beat, but you won’t let him get away with that statement so easily. "I didn’t know I was yours," you tease, raising an eyebrow, the challenge clear in your voice. “I thought we had a casual arrangement.”

Damian smirks, that cocky, confident grin of his flashing as he pulls you even closer, so your bodies are flush against each other. His hands tighten on your waist, his fingers pressing possessively into your skin. "Oh, you’re mine," he says, his voice firm, leaving no room for doubt.

You’re about to respond when Damian moves faster than you expect. In one swift motion, he spins you around to face him, his eyes dark with intent. Before you can catch your breath, his lips crash against yours, the kiss deep and hungry. It’s not just a kiss—it’s a claim, a statement to everyone in the room, especially Jey, that you belong to him.

The kiss leaves you breathless, your mind spinning as Damian pulls back just slightly, his lips brushing against yours as he murmurs, "You're mine. My girl."

Your heart pounds in your chest, the words echoing in your ears. His hands don’t leave your body, staying firmly on your hips as if to prove his point. His eyes search yours for any hesitation, but instead of pulling away, you feel a sense of relief, the very thing you’ve been wanting for so long finally falling into place.

In that moment, the game is over. You’re no longer just his secret—you're his, for everyone to see.

As Damian’s words sink in, your heart still racing from the intensity of the moment, you glance over toward Jey. Just in time, you catch Rhea stepping up to him, her arms snaking confidently around his neck. A smirk spreads across Jey’s face, his hands naturally resting on her waist as if they’ve been in this position before.

You watch as Rhea leans in, her lips brushing against Jey's ear to whisper something. Whatever she says makes him smile, his expression softening in a way you hadn’t seen before. It's clear that Rhea’s walls are coming down, just like Damian's did with you.

For a fleeting second, Jey looks up and your eyes meet across the room. There's no need for words—just a shared glance, an unspoken acknowledgment of victory. The plan you hatched together has worked.

You smile knowingly, feeling the weight of success settle in. Damian's grip on your waist tightens as he pulls you closer, his lips brushing the top of your head. Meanwhile, across the dance floor, Jey's hands slide up Rhea's waist as she moves even closer to him, their chemistry undeniable.

Everything has fallen into place.

#Damian Priest #Damian Priest x reader #Damian Priest Fic #Damian Priest Fanfic #Damian Priest Fanfiction #Rhea Ripley #Rhea Ripley Fanfic #Rhea Ripley Fanfiction #Jey Uso #Jey Uso Fic #Jey Uso Fanfic #Jey Uso Fanfiction

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twst-drabbles · 1 month ago

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Riddle 18

Summary: Riddle comes over to your dorm with the intention of lecturing you on how to keep a handle on Grim after the trouble he caused a few days ago. It takes a while for him to realize that you're only wearing a towel the entire time he was talking.

(I would've gotten this out a while go, but then I descended the coding hole and redid the structure of the code in my neocities website, because I found a much easier way to upload my stuff onto it. Sooo, yeah here ya go!)

"As such, it do you well to at least memorize the first fifty pages of my notes. It will give you a solid enough foundation to begin with Grim's discipline." Riddle slammed yet another carefully noted and annotated journal onto your study stable, not once glancing away from it as he flipped through the pages to point out particular notes of interest, like you were actually right there over his shoulder.

You weren't. You were currently on your bed, skin still wet and shiny, clad in only a towel, casually leaning back. You were watching him, half-listening, half-wondering when in the world you gave the impression that Riddle could come into your dorm without so much a polite knock.

A few days ago, you were given warning via Ace and Deuce that Grim caused trouble yet again, and Riddle was nothing short of livid. Riddle, too, gave his warning, but it was more of a "I have freed up a slot of time for your future lecture," type of deal. As in, Riddle gave you no room to convince him otherwise. Literally thirty minutes later, and about two minutes after you've finished your shower, Riddle was through your door, small heels clicking on your floors, and barged his way into your room with journals and books piled in his arms, practically covering his vision.

And you? In a towel, on your bed, still steaming from your shower. You should probably put on some clothes, but honestly? You'll do that later. It's not that big of a deal anyways.

So yeah, Grim wasn't here at the moment. He took off as soon as he heard that knocking, and you've stopped bothering with trying to wrangle him in. You did, however, lock the windows and blocked the holes he uses to crawl in. You'll probably lock all the doors while you're at it so he has no choice but to beg his way back inside. Or if he's too arrogant to beg, sleep outside.

"Alright, so I need you to pay particular attention to this passage, since your current method of discipline is clearly not enough." Riddle was entirely absorbed in a world of his own, not having once looked back at you.

"Mm-hmm." What is with this assumption that you're Grim's guardian/caretaker/whatever? And why lecture you about this subject? You don't exactly care.

"And to truly understand this section, you'll have to study on chapter one-hundred and thirteen of the assigned bibliography I have for you. And–"

"Mm-hmm." You scrolled through your phone. Huh. Sam is having yet another surprise sale at his shop. Wonder what that's about.

Finally, Riddle stopped with a small, frustrated sigh. "It seems you're not truly listening to–"

Upon his pause, you leaned forward and turned off your phone. You propped your chin on your hand. "Sorry, sorry. You were saying?" Gotta pretend that you're listening to Riddle can get this lecture over with faster.

Though, you get the feeling this will take longer than usual.

"I-I," Riddle took a careful step back, tumbled on the carpet, and grabbed the table before he could land on the floor. "I-what-I–"

His eyes were flitting over every part of you, clearly unable to look away as the color of his pale face rapidly turned red. It would've looked cute, if it weren't for how fast the color turned purple. His mouth kept moving, trying to make noise, or some semblance of a sentence, but all he could get out was fragments instead.

You raised an eyebrow. "Well? You're not gonna continue?" He did come in as soon as you finished your shower. You figured he'd be at this until you've gotten the energy to finally get into some comfy clothes.

Riddle began to look less like a college student and more a creature you've squeezed into almost popping. He spun around and slammed his hands on the table. His shoulders shook, trying with all his might to keep his composure before he crouched and cradled his head in his arms.

"Riddle?"

Huh. You didn't think you being naked was that big of a deal. Your body is just that, a body.

Riddle twitched and stood ramrod straight. Awkwardly, he marched right to your door, walking sideways so as to not accidentally glimpse at you. He turned the knob, and slammed the door shut behind him.

You can hear him break out into a sprint, carpet doing nothing to muffle the sounds, and dorm insulation being close to nonexistent. Another door opened and slammed shut, probably the bathroom. A few seconds later, you heard a distant, muffled screaming.

Yup. Big deal alright.

You couldn't help but laugh.

#twst #twisted wonderland #twst-drabbles #twst-drabbles exclusive #drabble #heartslabyul #riddle #riddle rosehearts #reader insert

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gay4abby · 1 year ago

Note

TW: sh — If you’re not comfortable with this no worries but I was wondering if you would write a Jordan li x fem reader fic where they are kinda rivals (like reader is a total academic overachiever and just gets on Jordan’s nerves) but then Jordan finds her in the bathroom or somewhere after/while she self harmed/cut herself and realizes that they have to stop being an asshole for a second and help her and just the realization that they don’t know everything that goes on in people’s lives.

Been Something More …

warnings, huge self harm warning, angst, anger outbursts, attempted sexual assault. pairings, jordan li x reader. requests r open, it takes me a minute to get thru them tho so i do value ur patience ‹𝟥 hope u enjoyyyy

12:15pm

If there’s one thing you know you absolutely love doing is pissing off Jordan Li. Number one at something was instilled in you since birth, it didn’t convenience Jordan in anyway. The rush of being better at something too good of a drug they could give up coke. Jordan was the one you always have to one up, the one where if they’re good at welding you have to be fantastic at it. Where Jordan’s ranking is number three, yours is number two. Essentially you guys are always neck and neck with each other and it irritates Jordan to no end. There hasn’t been a day at God U where they felt like they were on top because you were always there to kick them down a notch.

It wasn’t always like this, though. When you and Jordan first met, you were both wide eyed freshmen’s that were hoping to get into crime fighting school, get under Brink’s good graces and possibly make it to the 7. You had that dream, but you always felt like you weren’t enough for it. No one needed to know that though, not even Jordan. Little did you know Jordan felt the same way. Anyone who had the same aspirations as you had to know their place. General requirement classes were on every freshman’s time table and you found yourself in the same class as the timid teen.

They barely spoke a word to you as you sat next to each other. You noticed their fingers pulling at one another underneath the table, but had the straightest face to anyone who can see. It was applaudable, but you tried not to make it shown that you were watching them. Jordan carried an air of confidence, your body tense, mouth tightly shut. Unnoticed by Jordan. It was a wonder how you guys are the way you are today, constantly fighting and bickering when just freshmen year you didn’t think you could outshine someone like Jordan. The yearn of a hollow heart where it once was filled with a brief friendship from you and Jordan, you really don’t know where it went wrong.

You passed out flyers, enthusiastic energy blooming from you as you engaged with the students who passed by the courtyard of the fourth quad on campus. The housing system always confused you when you first started out, your understanding of it coming from a rival. You felt his eyes bore into you, your smiling almost fading, the lull feeling of wanting to crawl away somewhere and die was welcomed. As much of a front you put up, it always felt demeaning when Jordan would turn their nose down on you.

You used to yearn for them to look at you lovingly only for it to be squashed like a child’s dream of being a mythical creature. “Vote for ____ for Student Council President! Justice is an action that deserves traction. Wouldn’t you want your voice to be heard?”

“Yeah, your future president will make sure all your needs are met. A vote for them is a vote for universal accessibility!” Your choice for your team was all your best friends idea and by the outcome of those accepting pins and proudly placing them on their attire, you knew you were in good hands. Almost all of the flyers that were in your hand were tossed out on to the floor, the aggressiveness of the impact alerting you of who it was. Your own attitude began bubbling underneath the surface, turning your body with a strained smile on your glossed lips. Jordan’s smug look made you breathe heavily, free hand fist curling slowly as you pulled it behind your back.

Seeing them was one thing, knowing they were another one of the candidates was another.

They were the last thing you wanted to see, but going to God U, being amongst the top five, it was fucking inevitable. “Watch where you’re going, I would hate it if someone would to hurt that pretty face,” it was malicious. Like inkling on a threat and it had you wondering if they were serious or not because it was always hard to tell with Jordan. Your jaw clenched, the strain sending a beaming pain through your temples. Your nail dug into your palm. You’re sure it drew blood. “There’s nothing as insulting than being called pretty by you.” You spit back, the grind in your teeth at the last part causing Jordan’s smirk to turn in size that even you wondered how it didn’t fall off his face.

How you wished you could sear it off their face for it to never appear again. “You’re so fucking funny,” Jordan bit, long legs carrying them away from you as they walk backwards, giving you the bird before turning back around. How did it even come to this? At one point you genuinely thought that you both could be good friends, the kind that makes it out of university and grow meaningful connections outside of yourselves that brings you closer together. You thought a lot of things about Jordan. You never thought you’d end up hating their guts.

The lot of you continued handing out flyers as your best friend kept a watchful eye on you from behind the table. It was unsettling succumbing to the thought of surrender, but for your sake, your best friend knew not to stir anything up when it came to Jordan, no matter how much she wanted to. Besides it wasn’t her place to say anything, she knew how you were and to cause anything to ruffle the waters was the last thing she wanted to do.

20:05 (8:05pm)

“So, the last of the flyers were passed out at the courtyard. Since the elections tonight we don’t need to make anymore. We have enough hanging on the bulletins around campus, so, we’re all set!” Everyone cheered as you all were gathered around in the small space that was reserved for the campaign meeting. The people on your team put in so much work — you almost felt like you were slaving them, but with reassurance from them that they volunteered to do this, you weren’t forcing them to do anything.

They knew you were the perfect candidate for president. And you were reminded of it constantly.

“I appreciate every single one of you for putting in all the hard work to make this campaign possible for me. I really couldn’t have done it without any of you,” it was so sincere that you teetering on crying almost. Waterlines slowly filling up. Prior to your life before Godlkin University, it wasn’t something you were automatically proud of; the sheer thought of a full house feeling vacant wasn’t something you can easily tell someone.

They’d think you’re being ungrateful, for gods sake.

You drowned out most of what everyone was saying. That dreadful feeling creeping slowly, wrapping around you like it wanted to cocoon you into a blanket of worry and self doubt. This was typical, especially in a moment of an achievement that you couldn’t imagine for yourself. You knew you were a shoo in for the win, but it didn’t matter how much you were sure, how high your confidence in the moment was; the one thing you knew for sure was the voice in the back of your mind. Way deep to the very crevice of your brain telling you something is going to go wrong. And when it’s right you never respond to it very well.

20:59 (8:59pm)

Everyone stood around their computers and tablets, monitoring the gradual progress of the ballots. You were nervous of course, but you knew. You knew you were going to win, you knew that you were going to be able to give a voice to those that didn’t have the same advantages most funded students did at this school. And you weren’t going to fuck it up for absolutely no one.

It was yours for the taking and you worked so hard for something you never had the opportunity to do in grade school. Only a couple more seconds before the lot of you found out it was you — there was a sudden high pitched sound that drowned out the countdown to the announcement, clammy hands touched your heated skin. Your throat felt tight, your smile tight and frozen as you tried to breathe. Everything was moving slow, you didn’t realise your name was being called until you were shook to reality. “Hey, it’s alright. It was a bust, but you were runner up if they’d–”

“I don’t need your backhanded pity,” you snapped, the expression on your face made her whimper and cower back as you took a strained breath. Your heart dropped way past your stomach, it was completely out of your body before they finished saying that wretched, nonsensical pest’s name. They were invading parts of your life that you were…fine with letting go, but the one thing you were looking forward to, knew that would be yours no matter what was stripped from you like clothes.

You felt like you were in a dream where you were in front of everyone in just your underwear. It was unraveling your mind to the point where you would do absolutely anything to be buried six feet under. “Let’s let loose and forget about tonight, huh? There’s a rager being hosted by Lambda Phi Epsilon…what better way to blow off some steam than to blow an actual steamer?” Layla’s voice pulled you back to reality. You turned your head in surprise weighing the option in your head. Gilmore Girls definitely was not a hot fuck. “If you can get me alone with Luke, I’ll make sure you have a years supply of Nature Valley granola bars.”

Layla squealed pulling you along and out of the dorm to get the both of you ready for an unforgettable night.

22:30 (10:30pm)

On campus parties aren’t something you frequented to for pass time. Mainly because you didn’t care for that. Partially because you knew you’d see Jordan there and their face alone can ruin an entire week for you. But tonight? Tonight you weren’t going to allow anything or anyone to ruin your night of fun. Carefree, brute fun without any sort of supervision. You earned it, you deserve it. Layla was nowhere to be found, failure on her end to hook you up with Golden Boy. But that’s okay since you were nursing your eighth…ninth drink? You kind of lost count after the round of shots Elliot brought over for everyone standing around the island.

The room was divided into twos, doubles of everything showing up in your vision but you couldn’t care less. The only thing that mattered was getting another drink in your system to make it all blur into one. You stumbled around in the kitchen, grabbing a red solo cup and stumbling again towards the keg. Your unawareness of eyes following you left you open for any random party goer to warp you into their grasp. “Whoops! So…rry!” Your giggles filled the air as you dropped to your knees after almost knocking over a passerby while trying to regain balance again. You were pumping the keg trying to get the beverage through, unsuccessfully pouring any beer into your cup.

“Aw, don’t pout. Look I got you.” A smooth voice rang through your ears before you even register it. You looked up a dazed expression on your features, moving over a bit to give him some room. The stranger grabbed your cup, pumping the keg until it spewed out more beer into your cup, your hands coming together to aggressively clap at the revelation. “You did it! How’d you do that?” Your words slurred as his hand grabbed you underneath your armpit to help you stand up and to give you your drink. You held on to him, he was broad and tough to the touch; you couldn’t even remember the last time you felt up a guy.

His hands slyly made its way around your hips, pulling you close to him as he practically carried you away from the scene in the kitchen. Everyone around you was unaware of the two of you, drunk or high off their asses. You were unaware of the situation at hand too, you had no idea who this guy was, but because you were unsuccessful in bedding Golden Boy — despite him having a girlfriend. You’d admit you were even willing to do a little home wrecking if meant getting destroyed by his golden dick.

But the one you were practically hanging off of would have to do. The red solo cup barely made it to your lips before it was pushed out of your hand, a whine escaping you as you carried up the stairs of the overflowing frat house. “My drink…we have to get another!” The guy could barely hear you, nodding along anyway as he continued to drag you up the stairs. You were growing antsy due to the alcohol in your system slowly fading away, but the haziness was still there. “It’s alright I’ll get you another one soon, baby.”

It was fleeting, the way he said it, like he just wanted you to shut up. You didn’t take it this way, though. You could barely understand what was going on around you. A cheer was heard from downstairs, but it soon became muffled as you heard a door shut. The clink sound rebounded on deaf ears. “This isn’t where are – the drinks aren’t… Where…” It was slurred. The guy had you leaning against a wall, hands roaming around the region below your stomach. You hummed, head lolling off to the side.

Everything around you was muffled, the guy talking to you, the music outside the room, the sudden banging on the door that the guy tried to ignore. “We’re busy!” He yelled before going back to you, how’d you get to the bed? You were motionless underneath him and he didn’t seem to care at all. You didn’t hear anything until you came back to reality to the commotion unfolding in front of you. “You don’t see they’re wasted out of their mind? What the fuck, dude?” The guy was shoved back into the nightstand, the lamp toppling over. Your eyes connected with Jordan’s tall stature, the aggressiveness of his push causing the guy to grow red in the face.

“Fuck you, man! They were practically jumping my bones, they wanted it!”

He didn’t even get the chance to stand up straight enough before Jordan landed a clean one on his cheek. With the way his body swung to the side, he was going to be out cold for a week. Fury wouldn’t be able to describe the feeling gorging from within you, “What the fuck, Jordan! You asshole, you’re such an asshole!”

“I’m the asshole? Sorry for fucking saving you from getting raped by the fraternity fiend! Do you realise who you were just with?” You scoffed as you tried to push him back, but being unable to due to his rigid form. “You had no right! I wanted to him to fuck me!”

“Right, so then you can go cry about it and tell everyone who will listen just how fucked your life is! ‘Oh poor ol’ ____, I was taken advantage off while I was drunk off my ass. Why does bad things always happen to me? Why am I such a fuck up that nothing can ever go right?’” Your heart couldn’t even drop from your chest because it was gone the minute it was announced that Jordan won the elections. You felt like eating yourself alive the way a snake does when depressed. You wanted to be nonexistent in a world that was never in your favour. So, Jordan was right. To you, he was right.

“You took everything from me, you know that? I just wanted this one thing and you took that too.” It was barely even a whisper, you shoved your shoulder against Jordan’s as you stumbled your way out of the room. “Where the fuck are you going? You’re not going home by yourself.”

“Of course I’m fucking not! Contrary to popular belief, I can come to a party responsibly and have a buddy when leaving!” You didn’t even give Jordan another chance to stop you before you slammed the door close, making haste to text your sober buddy to meet you outside. One fuck up after the other and you couldn’t even have a night of reprieve to drown your sorrows in liqueur for losing. This was the worst night of your entire life.

03:45am

Sobering up after the unfortunate events that occurred at the party made you pity yourself. Although Jordan was right, having them as your saviour left a horrid taste in your mouth. It was all hitting you at once. Sitting in your dorm room in the dark could do that to you. Streaks of tears stained your cheeks. You’ve been sitting in the same spot your sober buddy had put you in for three hours. Makeup still caked on your face but it was old looking now, the crying didn’t help it stay intact either, what a shock. The only way you were going to get rid of this feeling was a shower. And not just any typical shower.

The communal showers should be vacant during this time of night. Everyone either studying, partying or sleeping. You mustered up enough energy after crying for three hours straight to get up, strip yourself of your party clothes, grab your shower caddy and head off to the showers. You breathed a sigh relief after seeing no one was in here and you didn’t hear anything so you were in the clear making quick work of turning the shower on. You took the stall further down, away from the entrance so you could have some privacy.

It wasn’t something you were proud of doing, but it was something you knew that you needed to do to let yourself know that no matter what, the pain will always be there to comfort you. To mask what dreadful emotion you’re feeling so you can forget what it feels like. Fortunately for you, the showers had benches in them, it wasn’t hard for you to cut yourself because you were not about to sit on those communal shower floors. One slice and you hissed, the blood pouring from the open wound. You didn’t care to have the blood swirl from underneath the curtain because no one was there.

Or so you thought.

“Hey…uh…is everything okay in there?” You silently jumped at the voice that rang through the vacant occupied washroom. And it wasn’t just anyone’s voice. The soft, almost velvety tone would have comforted you at a time where you thought you were both friends. Now it just sends an unusual chill up your spine. “I see the blood. Are you okay?” They continued, hearing them move closer to the curtain. You couldn’t stay silent because they already knew someone was in here, plus the goddamn shower was on! “Everything’s fine, just, go away.”

Jordan called your name and it sounded concerned. Moving closer to the curtain, their delicate hand grabbed on to it, hesitating a little, “I’m going to open this, okay?” It made you jump up slightly, slipping on your foot and blood to collide with the floor. Jordan didn’t wait for an answer before opening the curtain to find you wet, naked and covered in your own blood. There was at least four cuts running down your inner thigh. The worry on Jordan’s face caused your heart to clench and you hurried to cover yourself with what little you had.

“What the fuck! Are you okay? Fuck,” she leaned down, the towel that was over her shoulder long discarded as they reached out to tug you up from your underarms. You didn’t have the energy to fight back, but that’s what losing blood tends to do to you. Jordan shut the water off after getting wet through their pyjamas. They sat you down with care on to the bench examining your thighs. You weren’t sure why they were making such a fuss over it, the both of you hating each other like your life depended on it.

“Why? What the fuck?” She looked at you with her big brown eyes and what shocked you the most was it wasn’t filled with the usually flaming hatred that you always saw. You couldn’t hold it in anymore and tears streamed down your cheeks once more. You let yourself go, the impact of the hit against the wall causing a pain to run through your skull. “Ow…”

“Come on, get up.” After reaching for your towel and securing it around you, she lifted you up from the bench and used all her strength in her female form to lug you out of the washroom.

04:27am

You didn’t expect to ever be in Jordan’s dorm room, let alone on their bed, naked, and getting patched up by Jordan! After you guys had fell off, anything remotely close to friendly activities seemed out of the ballpark for you and her. Literally impossible to be in the same room together. Who knew self harming was going to be the thing that brought you both back together?

It was silent for the rest of the time she spent covering up your wounds. You know for sure she saw the other healed over one’s, just littered across your thighs. You couldn’t read their face as they taped over the gauze, moving back to put away the first aid kit. The silence was killing you, you never realised just how much tension you both held until you were alone with them. The clattering of the kit being stored away was the only sound that rang through the room.

You can hear a pin drop if you so pleased.

You were still on their bed, wrapped in a towel and shivering slightly. Jordan took note of this and walked back to their closet to pull out a sweater and some sweats. Upon noticing, you jumped from the bed immediately stating that you should go. “I’m not leaving you alone just so you can hurt yourself again. You’re staying here for the night. Until I know you’re okay.”

“I’m fine.”

“No, you’re not. Any sane person would be able to tell you that,” Jordan said sternly. You both were in a state off now, eyebrows furrowing. Jordan had enough before they threw you the clothes, which you reluctantly caught. “Put them on. Now.” Without any further argument, you stripped yourself of the towel and slid the clothes on. They were warm and it smelled like her, too. You can’t remember the last time you even hugged Jordan. Wearing their clothes made you realise how much you missed them.

You sniffed as you fix the hem of the sweater. It was a little big on you, the sleeves covering your hands making them look like paws. Jordan hid their smile before walking over to her mini fridge to bring out a bottle of water and gummy bears. “Here.” You accepted, no questions asked. Silence rang through again. The only sound this time was the crackling of the plastic bag and your swallowing as you sat on the floor, Jordan in their desk chair. It was eating away at Jordan to ask why. She couldn’t imagine you feeling that way about yourself so much so to cut yourself.

She always saw you as someone who was resilient, didn’t back down. Never took no as an answer when it came to getting what you want. Jordan saw you as someone they always admired to be. Which made them realise that everyone has their own silent battles going on and that they should be kinder even if it is to a stranger. Even if it is towards you. “I know what you’re thinking. ‘How could you do this? Your life is perfect!’” Perfect came out of your mouth like it was a bad tasting pasta. “I never thought that.”

“You’re lying. I know you do.” You couldn’t stop the tears from falling again and Jordan rushed over to sit beside you on the floor. The haribo wrapper was crushed in your fist as you tried to hold the tears back. It all came rushing out like word vomit, “You were my friend. You were the first person I connected with on campus. I came to this school with high hopes, but I didn’t come here thinking I was going to make an enemy out of someone I admire so much.

“You had no idea how much I looked up to you. How much I wanted to be apart of something I knew you were going to be apart of someday. You had it all. And I just wanted to be…I wanted us to be a paired equal,” you took a second to breathe which made Jordan cut in. “You didn’t use the past tense in admire…does that mean…”

“You fucking asshole. That’s your take away? How much I admired you?” Jordan stuttered a bit before answering you.

“No, that’s not. Fuck. No, I’m sorry. I mean. I admire you too and you don’t even realise.” That confused you. Jordan Li, ranking at number two on the charts, admires you? Someone who could never outmatch an opponent like Jordan admires you? And don’t even get me started on the fact that admire is in present tense, not past. “I’ve always thought you one of a kind. Someone my parents would love more than their own child. Granted I have other siblings, but they don’t count. You’re another Supe with incredibly unique powers. I couldn’t imagine going against someone like you.”

“So what’s with all the animosity for the past three years, Jordan?”

“I thought you hated me.”

“I didn’t! I thought you hated me!” You exclaimed into the otherwise quiet room. It was baffling to find out that it was just a case of fucking miscommunication. And come to think of it, there wasn’t a significant event that happened between the two of you to cause such strife in your friendship. Jordan realised she needed to make amends. “Well, I didn’t. At least not all the time. And what I said earlier, it was uncalled for. It’s never your fault, I hope you know that.”

You nodded, “I know, but you were right. I probably would’ve just whined about it when I could’ve just said no.”

“No, don’t do that. You were intoxicated, barely in your right mind. It’s all his fault. Not yours,” you felt her hand slide into yours as she said this, squeezing it gently those wide brown eyes wouldn’t leave you for a second. “Can I also ask…”

“It’s something I’ve always done. Even before I came to God U. Growing up in a household like mine you find other ways to make yourself forget the on going torment from your parents,” you whispered, squeezing her hand back. You leaned over placing your head on her shoulder and she automatically wrapped her arm around you to pull you closer. “I’m sorry for not being there,” Jordan whispered, as if they said it any louder it would ruin the quiet moment the both of you have going on. “I’m sorry for not being there, either.”

“Promise me something?”

You nodded in agreement, “We will always have each other no matter what, who or when. I don’t want you to be a stranger again.”

“I promise.”

#jordan li x gn!reader #jordan li x reader #jordan li x you #jordan li x y/n #gen v x reader #gen v #gen v amazon #gen v jordan #gen v imagine #‹𝟥 requests

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eardefenders · 9 months ago

Text

Sherlock & Co - Mailbag Episode 2 Transcript

00:00-00:30 Intro Music

00:27-00:34 *Sounds of a violin playing fade in*

00:34 Sherlock: You see? You see what I mean?

00:37 John: I…don’t.

00:39 Sherlock: Listen! *scoffs* Listen, closely this time. Shh. *resumes playing the bit from the fade in*

00:43 John: Argh. *pause* For God’s sake.

*Sherlock keeps playing*

00:46 John: Sherlock, please mate. We’ve got questions to get through here.

*Sherlock keeps playing*

00:52 John: Maaaate. Matey, mate mate mate mate.

00:55 Sherlock: Did you hear it this time?

00:57 John: Yeah. Sure. Uhh, right. So let’s dive into the discord chat. The brand spanking new discord for Sherlock and Co members. Brimming with Stamfords, Irregulars, and Diogene-sohmy God. There’s thousands of messages. Um, right. Should probably been keeping tabs on those questions. All right I’m going to scroll up and pick one f-from um the sssixteenth of January. Here we go! Come on down…IdleVice! Uh, your question is, “If you could make a Spotify playlist for each other of your own favorite songs, what would some of the highlights be and would you be willing to share the playlists with us. Ooh hoohoho. Uuuhhm. I don’t know if I’d ever get around to actually, y’know, putting the playlist together, as, as such, but what I-I would get Sherlock to listen to. Ummm mmmm probably Elbow? Elbow are a band from the north of England. Uh, Salford I think. But they have, uh, a few strings sort of. I-I don’t know what it’s called-but, elements that involve violins. Um, and all that jazz. Heh. Uh well not jazz! Uh, literally, not jazz. Uh, yeah, Sherlock, what about me?

02:07 Sherlock: Hm?

02:08 John: If you could make a playlist of songs for me what would it be?

02:12 Sherlock: I probably would never do that, Watson.

02:16 John: Okay. Uh, could you expand on that?

02:19 Sherlock: It’s a task that I wouldn’t find that fulfil-Vivaldi.

02:23 John: Uhh, right. Vivaldi. Yep. Anything else pop into mind?

02:29 Sherlock: Pop.

02:31 John: Pop? Is that-what’s that?

02:33 Sherlock: It’s a genre of music.

02:35 John: Uh, right, you’d make a pop playlist for me?

02:38 Sherlock: I’d probably enlist Mrs. Hudson to do that.

02:41 John: Fair enough. And why pop?

02:43 Sherlock: Because it’s an abbreviation for ‘popular music’.

02:45 John: No, I know that.

02:47 Sherlock: You like popular culture, therefore pop music could very well be your cup of green tea.

02:54 John: It’s, it’s just cup of tea. Bu-uh-uh, well, okay, uh, thank you for that. Uh, back to the discord dudes and dudettes. Um, not that I was implying any kind of masculine energy to the use of the word dudes. Dudes will remain, uh, um, an-an-an-androgynous here. My…dudes. Bit like the word mate! I do throw it around. Ummm. Some people just think it’s for blokes. Don’t know why. Uh, anyway. Here we go. Leaf-onk, layff, layfonk? I hope I’m saying that right. Uh, Leif-Leif*onk* asks, ‘Has Sherlock ever hit a vape?”

03:28 Sherlock: Yes.

03:29 John: Lovely. They’d also like to know the flavor.

03:31 Sherlock: Menthol.

03:32 John: D-do you want to expand?

03:35 Sherlock: Mm, not really.

03:37 John: Did you like it?

03:38 Sherlock: It was satisfactory, I suppose.

03:41 John: *sighs* Another thrilling q and a session with the master detective. Here we go! Number one archie fan-He-he-heeyyy! Archie! Found your number one fan mate. Heh. Think they also go by potpourri. Not sure. Don’t really know how discord works because I was born in 1989. Anyway! Number one Archie fan asks, do you have a favorite classical piece? Or a favorite composer, perhaps?

04:05 Sherlock: Mozart, generally. Can often be tied to my mood. What about Vivaldi? You said Vivaldi earlier?

04:12 Sherlock: That was a recommendation to you.

04:14 John: But not you?

04:14 Sherlock: Definitely not.

04:16 John: Great.

04:17 Sherlock: Uh, Mozart, Bach, Tchaikovsky. But I am often driven by whatever phase I feel I’m in.

04:23 John: And we’re in a Mozart phase now, are we?

04:26 Sherlock: We are indeed.

04:27 John: Fab. Right, uh, Reeonk asks-ohkay, ok, I see what you’re doing now. Cause of. Cause of Jonk. Okahaha. Let’s all laugh at Jonk-John, I mean.

04:40 Sherlock: *laughs*

04:41 John (affectionately): Oh, ge-Shut up, you big idiot.

04:44 Sherlock: *still laughing*

04:45 John (affectionately annoyed): Shut it. Ha. Uhhhh, we’ll cut that bit. I swear to God. Right! Reonk, who I think also goes by Perfo, if I click here. But yes, as I was saying, millennial at the wheel. Sorry. Reonk’s first question, “Hey John, if you were an animal, what animal would you be?” Uhhhum, *clicks tongue* look, I’ve got to be something airborne. Um, uh I’m sorry, but I have to. Y-y-you can’t have the chance to fly and turn it down, so, uh, I’m a bird.

05:09 Sherlock: Or a bug.

05:10 John: S-s-sorry?

05:11 Sherlock: Bugs. Insects. They’re airborne. Hm, as is some bacteria.

05:16 John: Great, yeah. Let me just decide between a gnat and a germ.

05:19 Sherlock: By all means. Take your time.

05:21 John: I’m being sarcastic. I’m not a bug and I’m not bloody…germs. I’m. *sighs* I mean it’s too much pressure being an eagle, isn’t it. Um, *clicks tongue three times* I don’t want to be something that’s crap at flying, like a swan or a goose or something. Shoutout to Heather, by the way. Ehhh, aw come on John, come on John. Um. Ooo! Tell you what. Now this is going to sound stupid, but if it was my brain in the animal-

05:47 Sherlock: Yes, this is going to sound stupid.

05:49 John: Shh-sh-shh. Yes, if it was me. In the animal. I’m going pigeon.

05:54 Sherlock: Pigeon?

05:55 John: Pigeon. Ehh? Right, listen, ok. I can still live in the city. I cou-I could even live in my room, really.

06:01 Sherlock: You absolutely cannot.

06:03 John: What? Why not?

06:04 Sherlock: I’m not flatsharing with a bloody pigeon, Watson.

06:06 John: It’s me.

06:07 Sherlock: Yes, in the body of a pigeon.

06:09 John: Listen, let me finish my point. I’m a pigeon. I’ve got my room. I can fly about London, y’know? See all the sites, dive bomb some tourists, do a little poo on the House of Commons. I could nick a bit of decent grub. Yeah, go on walks with Archie and Mariana in the park. And no one is the wiser. If I was an eagle or a, y’know, like an albatross, I couldn’t do that, could I? No? It’d be great flying across town, even take the tube. Saw a pigeon on the tube the other day.

06:39 Sherlock: Yes, you said. Twice.

06:41 John: I could look through people’s windows, you know go in their gardens, on their patios….That makes me sound creepy, doesn’t it? Ah, pigeon! *clears his throat* The answer is pigeon. Second question, “What kitchen appliance would you be?” *clicks tongue twice and sucks air in thorough his teeth* Hm. Not being a microwave. No way, don’t get cleaned enough and, uh, having curries and bloody pizzas blowing up inside me, geezus. Uh, fridge. Maybe. Mmm, but I’d see a lot of rotting food, wouldn’t I? Especially if people are away for a while. Probably go with something fun, y’know something where I come out of the pantry or the, y’know, the cupboard or whatever, and all the family go ‘yaayyy, heyhey here he is!’-Wafflemaker, I’d be a wafflemaker. Everyone loves waffles. No one’s getting board of me. I’m getting cleaned. Perfect. Pigeon and a wafflemaker. Ha! That’s not a bad name for our band, eh Sherlock?

07:32 Sherlock: We’re not making a band.

07:33 John: Yeahhh, it was a joke. Right! It’s biscuit time! Saren says ‘Question for Sherlock: What kind of biscuits are, in your opinion, the best?

07:42: *sound of someone walking away*

07:43 John: Uhh, what’re you doing?

07:44 Sherlock: Answering the question.

07:44 John: Well, that would involve sitting down and talking into the mic.

07:48 Sherlock *sound of papers*: Here.

07:49 John: This…is an essay….on biscuits.

07:52 Sherlock: Yes.

07:54 John: By you.

07:55 Sherlock: Yes.

07:56 John: Okay.

07:58 Sherlock: Well, read it. My findings are in there.

08:01 John: Whaaa…it’s thirty-nine pages long.

08:03 Sherlock: Indeed.

08:04 John: Thi-this is supposed to be a snappy question and answer segment. Y’know it’s supposed to be a patreon reward, not a bloody punishment. *sarcastically* ‘Aww thanks for giving six quid everybody, here’s an eleven hour lecture on biscuits.’

08:15 Sherlock: They asked the question.

08:16 John: Right, ok. So, uh, he was eating a lot of custard creams the other day. Um, for those of you who aren’t British, uh, a custard cream is, uh, a sort of sandwich structured biscuit, wouldn’t’cha say?

08:26 Sherlock: Correct. Yes. A sandwich in structure. Two light shortbread pieces acting as the bread. Often stamped with a Victorian inspired Baroque design. And the filling was once a buttercream, but now is a custard flavored cream based on vanilla custard. Not egg custard.

08:43 John: Right, yeah. It’s, it’s that. Um, they’re nice. They are nice. Very moreish. Um, Ellionk, or Ellie, I think, when they’re not ‘Onk’ified, want’s to know ‘Favorite Supermarket: Tesco or Sainsbury’s?’ Um, well, both have gone downhill in recent years, I have to say. So, I’m going to go for neither and say co-op. Yeah, cause every now and again you find a really really good one. But if I’m in fantasy land, it’s M&S Foods or Waitrose. *clicks tongue* Yeah. Uh, there’s a chemistry question here from Ranger Pip which I don’t even begin to understand, so I’m going to move on. Sorry, Ranger Pip.

09:18 John (cont.): Right, last one! ‘Question for possibly John or Sherlock, not sure, lol. What is the story behind the theme tune. Just have to say whoever composed it, the musicians need an award and a shoutout on the podcast.’ Uh, yeah, well it’s a great theme tune, isn’t it? It really is. It’s called ‘Mad Prodigy’. *clears his throat pointedly*

09:39 Sherlock: Why are you making that noise?

09:41 John: Ah well, just saying mate.

09:43 Sherlock: I’m not mad. Or a prodigy.

09:46 John: Hey, uh, I-I’m not saying anything. Um, yeah, it’s it’s by a guy called Jody Jenkins. Uhhh, the reason why I don’t release it like some people asked me to is because it’s owned by a royalty free site. Um, *clicks tongue* the reason why Jody Jenkins doesn’t release it, is the same reason. I-it’s owned by a royalty free site. Uh, that’s generally how they work. I-I pay a fee. Well. Goalhanger pay a fee, use the track, and it belongs too…yeah. Audio Network. Um, I think he’s fab, yeah. But as far as crediting him out loud on the podcast, um, some artists don’t want royalty free work assigned to them. Um, they just do it for a paycheck. Some do. I don’t know him obviously and of course, I-I could piss off the company that actually owns the audio if I just mention him and uh, not-

10:34: *phone vibrates*

10:36 John: Message from Mariana. ‘You’re waffling. These people are paying us their hard earned money.’ Right! Soundproofing in these old houses aren’t what they used to be, are they? Um, *clicks tongue* yeah that’s the reason songwise. Nothing for or against Jody Jenkins. I’m just playing it safe cause these things s-scare me. *chuckles* Corporations and blech, yeah. Uh, horrible stuff.

10:54: *phone vibrates*

10:55 John: Um, message from Mariana. Right, yeah, I’m gonna wrap this up. Uh, thanks for your questions my lovely friends, we’ll be back soon. And, now to play us out, the one and only, Sherlock Holmes.

11:08 Sherlock: What?

11:08 John: Play! Play a song!

11:10 Sherlock *pleased*: Oh. Excellent! Uh, okay. Here we go!

11:14: *violin playing starts up*

11:17 John: Bye bye guys!

11:32: *sherlock’s violin playing cuts into Mad Prodigy

11:32-12:02 *Mad Prodigy carries us out to the end*

#sherlock & co #sherlock and co #sherlock holmes #john watson #johnlock #transcripts #transcript #mine #mailbag 2 #sorry for the delay on this #month ends are always a bit busy for me #also once I figure out what sherlock is playing at the end I'll fix this to reflect it

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spnexploration · 10 months ago

Text

A Christmas Case

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader

Warnings: None

Summary: Dean drags you out of bed to go to a case, ruining your Christmas plans. But does he have a plan to make up for it?

Words: 1.1k

This is my submission for @spnfanficpond Secret Santa 2023 (ignore the fact it was posted in Jan 2024...) and is a gift for @apocalypseornaw ❤ Sorry for the delay!

Supernatural writing masterlist

“Come on, we’ve got a case,” Dean said, shaking you awake.

“Fu’ offfff,” you grumbled at him. “You’re not allowed in my room.” What you’d really like was Dean to stay in your room permanently, maybe some ravishing… But that was never going to happen.

He chuckled, “Just channel that energy to the monster. We leave in twenty.”

---

You sulked in the backseat. It was December 23rd, why the hell were you off on a case? You’d put in a little bit of effort at the bunker, getting a tree and some dollar shop baubles. That was all for naught, now.

Dean caught sight of you in the rear-view mirror. “What’s up with you, princess? We interrupt your beauty sleep?” You didn’t appreciate his teasing.

“I don’t see why monsters couldn’t give us the bloody holidays off.”

“It’s just another day in our line of work, don’t know why you got your hopes up.”

You glared at him. “Yes, how could I, when known Scrooge, Dean Winchester, was going to be trawling for cases at 6am on Christmas Eve Eve.” It was his own damn fault he wouldn’t be getting the present you’d spent a lot of time choosing for him.

“Hey! I didn’t even find it!”

You turned your glare to Sam, “Got anything to say, Second Scrooge Winchester?”

“I just have some google alerts set up, sorry.”

You crossed your arms.

“You might have been expecting a bit too much from a Christmas at the Bunker anyway,” Dean said in a tone of voice as if he was trying to make you feel better. “We’re not very good at Christmases.”

You rolled your eyes and looked out the window. The boys decided to let you be.

---

You decided to keep a tally of how many people said something about the FBI making you work so close to Christmas: you were already up to 4 and it was only mid-afternoon on the first day. Happily the drive hadn’t been too long from the bunker to the crappy town where the case was, so you’d been able to get started straight away.

There was a giant Christmas tree in the main street of town. You felt like it was mocking you.

You dragged your feet as you followed the boys into the library, conveniently still open. You wondered if Dean even realised everything was going to be closed on Christmas Day. Serve him right if he couldn’t get pie that day.

You half-heartedly trawled some books, not really contributing to the research effort.

“Sorry,” Sam said quietly as he came to sit by you. “I didn’t mean to ruin your holidays.”

“It’s alright,” you said, not really feeling it but not wanting to sound petty, either.

“I can tell you’re upset. Hell, even Dean can tell you’re upset.”

“You know, Dean’s better at reading people than people give him credit for,” you said, always quick to defend inappropriate criticism of Dean.

“Ok, you’re right, that was a low blow. But you’re still upset, and I’m sorry.”

“Yeah, well, solve the case fast enough and maybe we can do Christmas on Boxing Day at least.”

He gave your arm a friendly squeeze before standing up again and heading back to the shelves.

“I think I found it!” Dean called from somewhere. You stood to go find him.

---

It turned out to be a very quick case, over by late evening Christmas Eve. It was late enough that ordinarily you’d all head back to the motel room and go home early the next morning, but Dean suggested something different. “How about we head back to the bunker tonight, I’ll drive.”

“It’s pretty late,” Sam said, nursing a couple of injuries.

“You can sleep in the backseat until we get there. Won’t it be better to get to sleep in your own bed?”

“If you’re doing this for me, you don’t have to,” you said. “It’s fine, it’s just a stupid day. You don’t have to kill yourself driving late at night just for me.”

“No, come on, it’ll be nice to be back home.” He gave you that beautiful smile and you couldn’t help but melt.

You nodded, not trusting yourself to speak. Sam mumbled agreement and so you all piled into the Impala, Sam stretched out on the backseat. He was asleep almost instantly, and you weren’t too far behind.

---

“Hey, hey,” you woke to Dean whispering your name and gently shaking your shoulder. “Wake up.”

You looked around blearily, this wasn’t the bunker. It looked like the middle of nowhere. You started to ask Dean, but he held up his hand.

“Shh, don’t wake Sam,” he said, still whispering. “Come out of the car for a sec, I’ll explain it all.”

You looked at him quizzically but followed, closing the door as quietly as you could behind yourself. Dean took your hand and pulled you around to the front of the car. Your heart was racing; this was different…

“I’m sorry Sam and I ruined the Christmas you had planned,” he said, standing very close to you. You looked up into his stunningly gorgeous face wanting nothing more than to kiss him, but knowing that he saw you like a little sister. “But I thought we could look for Santa delivering presents,” he said, gesturing to the huge expanse of the night sky you could see.

You laughed, “What am I, 7?”

“Well, ok, it doesn’t have to be Santa. But it’s a nice night for stargazing, and I wanted to make it up to you.” He reached up and brushed his thumb over your cheek. This was definitely new. You nodded in agreement and he took your hand again, pulling you up on to the top of the bonnet.

He scooted very close to you. You could feel his body heat, which was good in the freezing night air. You felt a wave of goosebumps break out over your skin, but you weren’t entirely sure if they were because of the cold or the proximity of Dean.

He reached behind him and grabbed a blanket you hadn’t seen was there, then put his arms around you and draped it across your shoulders. He was so close, so beautifully close. And yet, always so far.

He didn’t put his arms back down, like you were expecting.

He put a hand on your shoulder. What was he doing? He put his other hand on your cheek. So warm, so close. So... intimate.

You looked up into his big, green eyes.

He leaned in close.

Oh. Oh! This was happening!

His soft, Adonis-like lips were suddenly on yours. You closed your eyes and leant into the moment.

He pulled away, “Merry Christmas. Hope this makes up for having to be on the road.”

“Oh, this definitely makes up for it,” you said before capturing his lips again.

The stars looked down from above, forgotten.

Dean Winchester tag list:

@mrsjenniferwinchester

@lyarr24

@waynes-multiverse

@deans-spinster-witch

@zepskies

Everything Supernatural tag list:

@leigh70

@malindacath

@ellie-andthemachine

@iprobablyshipit91

@123passwort

@kazsrm67

@nerdymuffinbonkcloud

@magssteenkamp

Spnfanficpond Dean Winchester x reader fluff tag list:

@babypieandwhiskey

@bkwrm523

@buckys-zomdoll

@canadianspnhunter

@cas-backwards-tie

@castieltrash1

@deanwanddamons

@ellewritesfix05

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@lucibae-is-dancing-in-hell

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#dean winchester x reader #dean winchester fluff #pining #spn christmas #spnfanficpond #spnfanficpond secret santa 2023 #dean winchester x you #dean x reader #dean x you #dean winchester x y/n #dean x y/n

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glitch-after-dark · 8 months ago

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Ekidocksos i am in LOVE with your account!!!!!!

Just..Rodimus completely stuffed and bred with Drift & Ratchets sparklings from a drunken one night stand? He left before they woke up and dodges them for weeks on end not knowing they want so much more of him & his hot plush valve.

They get the drop on him when they find him rubbing his tanks & eating sweet energon mini cakes in his office.

They know right then he’s sparked & soon they have him bent over, stuffed with their spikes & trying to add a couple more for a clutch

I would have answered this sooner but I’ve been gardening so exhaustion prevented me from having the energy. I just found your account as well and SoundRod content is very exciting to see! I need to do more with them.

Anyway—this idea is brilliant. I love some Dratchrod angst+horniness+babies.

Just Rodimus hanging out with his best friend—they are officially Amica now, yeah drinks for everyone—celebrating the latest adventure on their Forever Adventure and well into giggling drunk that both Ratchet and Drift are as well. He’s been very cuddly grabby, draping himself over Drift—who is definitely over! He’s very supportive now—and instead of huffing Ratchet just tells him to shove over and when he’s moving too slow picks him up and sits under him making Rodimus half in Ratchet’s lap while still draped over Drift and Ratchet’s telling jokes and laughing at Rodimus and he’s lost track of whose hands are whose at some point. Then Dratchet kisses and Rodimus whines about not getting any so Drift kisses his cheek which Rodimus pouts and says isn’t the same so Ratchet huffs and grabs his chin to lay one on him that has him squirming especially when Drift is petting his spoiler and he’s panting when it breaks. Drift, of course, protests that Ratchet cheated and Drift was supposed to get the first move, making Ratchet laugh and before Rodimus can figure that out Drift is turning his head his direction and kissing him deeply. Rodimus is just a squirming mess not having to be moved and just moving back to the other with someone constantly petting him or grabbing his thighs or holding his waist until Swerve finally throws them out for “public indecency”.

Which gives Rodimus enough of a moment of fresh air to go oh wait what and start to think up an excuse to dip out only for the hands to come back and the three of them to stumble back to Dratchet’s room to resume the sandwich and kissing, which quickly escalates once they have Rodimus shoved in the bed between them. Rodimus catches bits of “wanted you here” and “thought we were going to take him to dinner first” teasing between the kissing and moving around each other and realizes what is going on. Drift and Ratchet are clearly wanting a threesome and intended to ask Rodimus who feels guilty how immediately into that he is for both of them and distracts himself by opening his own panel and mouth descending onto Ratchet’s hands to suck them in remembering how sensitive they are.

He is being passed back and forth between them and responding very eagerly, if a little clumsy which slowly peters out into more smooth movements when the overcharge fades through multiple overloads leaving him clear minded but unwilling to leave when Ratchet is holding his thighs thrusting up into him and Drift is petting him laying over his back, spike pressed against him waiting for his turn, telling him how pretty he looks taking his Conjunx’s spike and look how happy he’s making him and Ratchet is growling out and agreement that sends Rodimus toppling into another overload that makes him bluescreen a bit only to wake to Ratchet kissing him sweetly, Rodimus sprawled out on his front, Drift slipping inside behind peppering kisses on his spoiler with Ratchet’s hands steadying Rodimus’s hips.

He's too tired to leave immediately when it finally finishes and they clean each other off, nuzzling and kissing, this time slow and sweet without the expectation of it leading to anything, and shove him in between to cuddle. He wakes up with Drift having shoved between him and Ratchet, wrapping around their arms and carefully manages to slip out painfully sober and aware of what he’s done and flees cold and horrified by how much it aches to leave them.

Rodimus is panicking because he thought—had lied to himself—he was over Drift and now not only is he wrong he’s developed a crush on Ratchet—reliable, stern, stubborn, kind, smart Ratchet—his Amica’s Conjunx. And he knows very well it is unrequited. Even if they are wanting to be adventurous and invite someone new to sleep with them, Rodimus is going to be devastated when they finally close their bed again.

One night he could laugh off as a drunken fun time, but he will not be able to disguise how clingy and emotional and needy he’ll be if they make it a frequent thing. That’s why Rodimus didn’t do multiple nights with people! He “misunderstands” and thinks more is going on than it actually is. He refused to inflict that on Dratchet.

He’d just gotten better at not shoving his way into Drift’s way and asking for things because Drift won’t tell him no! Ratchet finally tolerates him enough to not protest them being Amica—not that he’d said anything before but Rodimus knew he thought Drift could do better—which Rodimus agreed but was selfishly glad he hadn’t.

So he avoids them, helped by arranging the schedule and a few emergencies, always ready to offer an excuse even if it did make Drift look at him sadly and Ratchet look suspicious. And if he starts to feel weird afterwards, at first sick and tired, falling asleep in his office and achy, and then horny and starving and can’t stop eating sweets that’s his business. He has successfully managed to scrap their interactions down to the bare minimum which he will continue to do until he’s unrequited feelings fade, which would be a lot easier if they’d stop trying to corner him and Minimus and Megatron stopped judging him every time he made the schedule.

Rodimus’s sweet intake leads to his density increasing making him way more as protoform is building up and he doesn’t notice the difference, difference until he has the subtlest belly budging out just above his array. Ratchet finally pegs what is going on when he notices the anti-nausea, the glow, and the belly and way Rodimus’s hips are rounding out and chest is subtly swelling. He puts his foot down and he and Drift finally corner him by using privileges to be put on the graveyard shift with Rodimus.

Rodimus, who’d been getting gentle pep talks (Minimus) and just do it pep talks (Megatron), allows himself to be lead away. Accept apparently him carrying has gotten Ratchet and Drift very hot and bothered and instead of the conversation they are kissing him and pushing him over his desk to stuff him full and Rodimus is ready to go at a moment at this point, constantly horny, and is immediately distracted by this and also can’t get away and is sober enough to actually hear them saying they want him to stay and how thrilled they are to have a clutch and the phrasing is with the intention of a future together. After Drift, who has to be responsible because it turns out Ratchet’s breeding kink is making him thoroughly distracted pushing Rodimus against the nearest surface so he can cup his belly and fuck him, calls Megatron and Minimus to take over their shift.

Rodimus wakes up the next day to a grumbling Ratchet getting out of bed and kissing Drift goodbye and soothing him back to rest and then seeing Rodimus looking up at him sleepily kisses him and tells him to keep sleeping too. And Rodimus gets to, still not entirely sure what is going on, but the possessive grasp Drift makes on him when he rolls back over to sleep and Ratchet’s firm stay here with his own instincts finally relaxed and sleeping good from a night in between them helps.

They do eventually talk and work things out in between a lot of makeup sex and now Rodimus basically living it while getting bent over or crowded up against a wall to make sure he gets enough material to make their clutch. Drift is more slow and sweet about it taking his time and gentling Rodimus through it, savoring every moment, but Ratchet is rougher and very into the breeding aspect, prone to picking Rodimus up and shoving him against the wall or desk or bed (if they make it that far), and filling him up, fucking him until Rodimus’s is yowling, still carefully and hand always gently petting over Rodimus’s swelling tank. Ratchet is also the one who is now the most prone to spoiling Rodimus at the slightest pout. The carrier of the clutch deserves everything is Ratchet's stubborn response everytime he has a happy purring Rodimus pepper his face with kisses and Drift tease him about it.

Happy pregnant Dratchrod sex and babies for the win with Rodimus getting pampered.

#valveplug #mech preg #mechpreg #dratchrod #mild angst #dratchrod pregnant

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dont-offend-the-bees · 4 months ago

Text

No Rehearsing It, No Reversing It

Took a break from the big, soul-consuming, expansive multichapter fic to write... a big, soul-consuming, expansive one-shot. Look, I swear it was MEANT to be short and sweet, Charles just decided to have a self-confidence crisis all over it and then the bloody CAT KING showed up, it all went a bit mad.

Anyway, no major warnings at hand. Charles-typical self esteem issues and teen angst. There's jealousy aspects, but they don't really drive the story/get together, it's more of a side factor. This fic also flirts a little bit with Catwin and the romantic/flirtatious potential there, but it's Payneland endgame. No smut, some making out! Have fun!

9k words, also up on Ao3 (need to be signed in to read!)

"Edwin?"

"Yes, Charles?"

Charles waited until Edwin looked up from his notebook. Once he had his attention, Charles directed it upward with a nod of his head and a flick of his eyes.

Edwin followed his gaze, with a little bewildered frown. "What is it?"

"Well." Charles shrugged. "Mistletoe, innit?"

Edwin's eyebrow twitched upwards. "... Yes. Well identified, Charles."

Charles chuckled, ducking his head. Wasn't always easy to tell when Edwin was genuinely lost and when he was just winding Charles up. He sidled up a little closer, nudging Edwin with his elbow. "C'mon. You know the tradition, yeah?"

Edwin looked up once more, eyes widening a bit as understanding dawned. "Oh," he said, lowering his notebook. "Yes, I do recall..." he cleared his throat, straightening his bow tie one-handed. "Is that still... observed? In this day and age?"

"I mean, it's pretty optional, but." He shrugged again. "It's nice?"

"I suppose as traditions go, it's rather..." Edwin mulled it over, with a thoughtful hum. "Quaint."

"So. You, um." Another shrug. Charles felt a bit like he couldn't keep his shoulders under control — like they were just gonna drop off and roll across the floor any minute. He tried to channel some of his nervous energy into tugging his earlobe instead. "You up for it, then?"

Edwin regarded him, like he does; all placid and cool and dead handsome with the light behind him like that. He looked good under fairy lights — who knew? They should crash office Christmas parties for cases more often. His smile, when it came, was small and a bit sly, and it made Charles feel all sort of gooey in the middle.

Then Edwin leaned in, and screw gooey, Charles felt like there were fireworks going off in his chest. He closed his eyes, tilted his head. His lips parted and —

And something quick, dry, and chaste brushed gently against his cheek like the tip of a bird's wing; there and gone in a flutter.

Charles blinked his eyes open, bleary, and found Edwin already back where he'd started. Spine straight, eyes ahead, jotting madly in his notebook.

"Thank you, Charles. A very pleasant distraction." He frowned as he consulted his page, eyes flicking between it and the room. "Although I have rather lost the thread of my observations... We might be stuck here a little while yet."

Charles had a tingling feeling on his cheek, a sense of mild disappointment in his gut, and no idea what to do with his hands or arms.

He settled on another shrug. Fourth time's the charm. "Got nowhere else to be, have we?"

The thing is, Charles had been doing some thinking. No, scratch that, Charles had been doing lots of thinking. More thinking than he'd ever done about just about anything else. Mulling over some thoughts, some feelings.

And the upshot was this. He was almost completely, nearly definitely, ninety nine percent certain that he was head over heels, arse over tit in love with Edwin Payne. And that was brills! Sound! Nothing wrong with that at all!

Thing is, he was having a bit of a problem with that pesky one percent.

With anyone else in the world, ninety nine percent? Good enough. More than good enough. He was pretty sure people out there had gotten married on sixty or less. Sometimes you just roll the dice, snog someone you think is a bit fit, and go from there. But Edwin wasn't just anyone, was he? Edwin was Edwin. 'Best mate' was too mild for what Edwin was; Edwin was his person. Most important person in his life and death combined. He couldn't just go for it, could he? Best case scenario: they snog, they get together, and it's all aces forever and ever.

Worst case scenario: it's Kelly Daniels all over again, only worse.

Kelly was a mate of his in primary school. Actually, she was his best mate. They did everything together. Played outside for hours, hiding from his shit dad and her drunk uncle. Stayed best mates well into secondary, even after Charles got sent off to that snobby boys' school and they could only meet up on the weekends. Had a load of firsts together — first cig, first beer, first piercing. First kiss.

Seemed like a good idea at the time. She was proper into him, and he thought he was into her, too. Why wouldn't he be? He loved her, and she was gorgeous, and there was no one else he'd rather spend his time with. Why wouldn't he be in love with her?

Except when they kissed, it felt... not like anything, really. And he'd tried again because maybe the first one was always a bit rubbish. Maybe they weren't doing it right. But still, nothing. No heart racing, no sparks, no butterflies. He didn't see what everyone had been going on about. He definitely didn't want to kiss her again. Snogging her felt like... like snogging his sister, or something. He couldn't find any romance in it.

But she could. And when he told her he didn't want to do it again she cried and ran home. Next weekend, she didn't meet him at their spot — and when he risked getting caught using the phone to call her, her uncle told him she didn't wanna talk to him.

And that was just sort of. It. His first friend, his best friend, gone in a blink. All because he didn't know what he wanted and he took a stupid chance anyway.

What happened with Kelly was sad; if the same thing happened with Edwin, it'd be devastating. Honestly, he might as well just move on to his afterlife at that point, because that was it. He wasn't doing this ghost bollocks without Edwin by his side, end of.

So obviously, that one percent was bloody haunting him. Because he'd been sure before, and it all blew up in his face. Where was the line between someone you wanted to be with forever, and someone you wanted to be with forever? He couldn't just go on looks, could he? Anyone with eyes could see Edwin was fit, but that didn’t necessarily translate to wanting to snog him, did it? And obviously, loving him as a person didn’t make it a given, either.

If he could love someone but not be in love with them, how was he supposed to know the difference without diving in headfirst? And how was he supposed to do that without trampling all over Edwin’s feelings if his hunch turned out to be wrong? He couldn't. He had to know, first. Edwin already knew his side, and he'd told him so. Now the ball was in Charles' court, and he wasn't kicking it back without a proper answer. But he didn't have one, and he didn't have any evidence to go on, either.

Not yet, anyway.

It was pretty obvious to Charles what he needed to make up that last percent.

He needed to kiss Edwin. A proper kiss, on the lips. Just to see how it felt. See if he really liked him how he thought he did. Easy enough, yeah?

Well, not really. He had to make it happen, somehow. It's not like he could just ask Edwin to kiss him. He didn't wanna get his hopes up, did he? Didn't wanna lead him on and disappoint him. What if Charles didn't feel that way, and he fucked up the best thing he ever had because he didn't know what he wanted — as bloody usual?

Luckily, Charles was a Dead Boy Detective. Gathering evidence was his bread and butter! He'd been honing his investigative skills for a puzzle just like this. It was like coaxing the facts out of a stubborn witness; a little cunning, a side of charm, finesse it a bit, and they'd spill their guts.

He had a new case, a secret case: find a sneaky, innocuous, totally above-board reason for Edwin to snog him. Then he'd know, for sure. Confirm the hunch, crack the case — find out if he was as gone for Edwin as he thought.

Edwin was dead smart, was the only thing. Smart, and still pretty stuffy — even if he'd loosened up some since Port Townsend. He wasn't just gonna kiss Charles over any little thing. And if Charles slipped up, made it obvious, Edwin would be onto him in a second.

One thing was for sure: whatever Charles did, it needed to be subtle.

"Mate," said Charles, swanning in the door with a grin from ear to ear. "You are gonna wanna snog me silly when I tell you what I just found."

Absolutely smashed it.

Edwin raised an unimpressed eyebrow from behind the desk. "A bold statement," he said, setting his book aside and crossing his legs. "I'll be the judge of that."

Charles might've tripped over his own feet, like, a little bit. Bloody hell. Edwin needed to stop being so fit or Charles was gonna forget the plan and lay one on him right here, right now. "What? You think I'm exaggerating?" he said, finding his feet and bounding on over.

"You do have form," said Edwin. He steepled his fingers neatly on the desk, wry smile on his lips. "Your enthusiasm has been known to get the better of you."

"Oh, ye of little faith," Charles teased, affecting the mock posh lilt that Edwin always rolled his eyes at. He hopped up on the desk and brought his knee up on it, so's to angle himself towards Edwin. "Trust me, you'll love it. C'mon, eyes shut, hands out!"

Edwin looked unconvinced, but his smile didn't budge. He did as he was told, eyes closed, hands open. And alright, maybe Charles took a moment to just sort of look at his face in the sunlight for a moment. Sue him.

Carefully, Charles reached into his bag and pulled out the box. It was a battered old thing, but considering where it'd been, it was in bang-up shape. He placed it in Edwin's hands, with ceremony. "Alright, open up!"

Edwin opened his eyes and looked at the box in mild bemusement. "How... beautifully wrapped," he quipped.

Charles snorted. "Yeah, yeah. Go on, have a look inside."

Edwin set the box down on the desk and deftly untied the fraying string. He lifted the lid to reveal a bundle of papers — old, yellowed, a bit curly at the edges, but pretty in good nick all things considered! Most importantly, the writing was legible. Rows of neat typeface, with pen scribbles and corrections here and there. Charles wasn't really looking at them, though — he was watching Edwin's face as he mouthed the title. His eyes widened and his lips froze when he reached the author's name.

"I haven't read this one," he said, incredulous. "I've read all of Futrelle's works — how did this one pass me by?"

"Passed everyone by," said Charles, with a casual shrug and a barely repressed smirk. "Went down with him on the Titanic."

Edwin goggled at him. "Explain."

"Well, it's a funny story," said Charles breezily, crossing his arms. Edwin's undivided attention on him was a hell of a feeling. He was preening, and he didn't even care. "Went on a walk, got chatting with a ghost on the docks. She was in a bit of a jam, see, needed some family heirloom to move on. Only problem is, the thing went down on the ship, didn't it? With some great uncle who died there, same as old Jacques.

"So, I put her onto that nice bloke we met a few years ago — case of the drowned diver, remember? Still hasn't moved on, believe it or not — I think he's chuffed about having all eternity to explore the sea. Asked him if he'd do us a favour. So he found the boat, dredged up the safe her family and a few other rich folks used. She dug out her trinket, lobbed the rest at me to say thanks. Gave most of it to Dave, obviously, I mean he did the hard work. But when I saw this..."

He tapped the side of the box with a satisfied grin. "Well. No way I wasn't bringing Jacques Futrelle's last stories back home for us, was I?"

Edwin, for once in his life, seemed to be completely and utterly at a loss for words.

Charles bit his lip. Played it cool. "So," he teased. "Have I earned that snog, or what?"

"Charles," said Edwin — with one of his rare, big, fucking beautiful smiles, the one that showed his teeth. "You have earned a knighthood."

He stood up from his chair, quick as a flash, and planted a firm kiss on Charles' cheek.

Charles only just resisted the urge to cry out a little to the left, you bastard!

"I must read these immediately," Edwin gushed, lifting the stack of paper from the box with reverence. "Or I suppose, rightfully, you should read them first... no, nonsense, we'll read them together. Hm, we'll have to find a way to conserve these pages. Perhaps there's an enchantment in one of my spellbooks... for now, we'll just have to take precautions. Well, no time like the present; we have just closed that case with the haunted ice cream parlour. I'd say we've earned the afternoon off!"

He patted Charles' arm with childlike enthusiasm. "Settle in, Charles — I'm simply dying to know what sort of scrape the Thinking Machine is going to puzzle his way out of, this time..."

Charles laughed; mostly at himself for thinking this would play out any other way. Still, wasn't a total dead loss, was it?

He flopped down over the desk, folding his hands behind his head. Closed his eyes as Edwin's crisp, clear reading voice filled the room with words the world might never have heard.

No kiss, then. But not a half bad substitute.

So, mistletoe was a bust, and so were long lost books by dead mystery writers. He'd sort of expected the first one not to work, but the second one? That was a tough gesture to top, really, wasn't it?

Since impossible manuscripts didn't grow on trees, he was back to taking smaller swings for the time being. Luckily, with Christmas behind them, that meant another handy holiday tradition round the corner. Maybe if he played his cards right, he'd get lucky this time.

"Oh, honestly," said Edwin, in a bitchy tone. "What is this fixation the culture has with socially mandated kissing in the depths of winter?"

Off to a great start.

"Just nice, really, innit?" Charles laughed, leaning back against the low brick wall. They'd tagged along with Niko and Crystal to their college campus for the new year celebrations. He thought they'd spend the night getting just walked through by oblivious gangs of tipsy undergrads. But actually, there was a pretty decent mix of living and dead at this thing. Edwin had spent most of the night chatting away with some dowdy old English professor haunting the duck pond. But the clock was ticking down, so Charles had grabbed Edwin's hand and hauled him back to the quad for the fireworks. He wasn't about to lose a prime kissing opportunity to some — no offence — stuffy old bloke and his poetry readings. "Not exactly new, is it? People have been snogging to celebrate stuff since the dawn of time, haven't they?"

Edwin sighed. "Well. Yes, technically, I suppose the tradition has roots as far back as ancient Rome, at the very least. Arguably, the same could be said for mistletoe." He scowled. "Saturnalia has much to answer for."

"Those bloody Romans, at it again." Charles scuffed his heel against the wall. Edwin was a little riled up — must be the noise, the people. Charles was gonna have to be delicate. "Still. Nice to be included, yeah? Sort of the point of traditions, innit? Feel like a part of something. Part of the human race."

Edwin looked at him, and the hard furrow of his brows softened. "Yes," he said, quietly. "I suppose there is that..."

He had that look in his eyes. The one he got sometimes when Charles had made him sad, but he was too polite and uncomfortable to say anything. It wasn't pity, exactly, but. It wasn't miles off.

Charles fucking hated that look. Made him want to smile harder and laugh louder, and point out something interesting that would get Edwin's attention off him. Get him smiling again.

Then again... maybe he'd been going about this all wrong. With the smiling and laughing and teasing. Edwin wasn't gonna snog him for a laugh, but... would he do it out of pity?

Charles looked from Edwin's eyes, to his lips, then back again. Opened his mouth to pop the question:

"Edwin!" came an eager voice from off-side.

Fucking brills.

They both turned towards the voice. Niko was trotting towards them, bobbing through the crowd like a fluorescent pink balloon. She had booze-warmed cheeks to match, and all. Her hand was laced through Crystal's, who was trailing in her wake with a wry smile and a plastic cup.

"Niko," Edwin greeted, smile blooming. The Niko Face, Charles called it. Sort of the way you'd look at an adorable hamster; if the hamster was also a genius who could give you a run for your money in a game of chess. "Are you enjoying the festivities?"

"Edwin, it's almost midnight!" she said, bouncing on her heels. "You know what that means?"

"Yes, Charles has been enlightening me on the traditions," he said.

Her mouth popped open in a little 'o', then widened into a knowing smile. "Ohhhh — were you guys gonna kiss?"

Fuck.

"Um," Charles fumbled.

"Just making conversation," said Edwin, easily, with a pat to Charles' shoulder.

"Oh. Okay — wait, that's awesome, actually. Edwin, I kinda wanted to ask you something..."

He cocked his head. "Oh?"

Charles' heart sank.

"Well I was thinking; do you remember when we talked about the starfish? Before the washer woman showed up and made everything weird and ominous?"

Edwin chuckled. "I do recall, yes."

She smiled, cheeks dimpling. She looked a little wobbly, like she'd been on the alcopops, but her eyes were bright and smart as ever. "You were so nice, when I told you I'd never been kissed. And I still haven't! And I know you have been, now, with Monty —"

Charles started, staring wide-eyed at Edwin. That was new information.

"But it's gonna be midnight soon," Niko carried right on, oblivious. "And you're my friend, and I like you, and I thought: wouldn't it be cool if Edwin was my first kiss?"

Fuck.

"So," she clapped her hands together, touching her fingers to her smiling lips. "D'you wanna kiss? As friends? I wanna, if you wanna!"

"Well. It is a tad unorthodox," said Edwin. But he was smiling, soft and gently blindsided, and Charles didn't stand a chance. "But I would be honoured."

Bloody typical.

Niko clapped her hands together with glee. It was adorable, unfortunately. No amount of being ticked off at her for swooping in and pinching his kiss made it less so.

"Thought you weren't a fan of the kissing traditions," Charles mumbled.

Over Niko's shoulder, Crystal narrowed her eyes and gave him a look.

"I daresay there's room for exceptions," said Edwin. By this point his hands were in Niko's, being pushed back and forth in a little dance. "How does this work, exactly? Are we supposed to share this kiss during the countdown?"

"After — I'll give you the signal," said Niko, conspiratorially.

Charles left them to it. Not much else to say, was there?

"You're still doing your stupid plan, aren't you?"

Charles glowered at her platform boots. He knew he'd regret letting Crystal in on it. "It's not stupid."

"Fine, then. Crazy plan. You're a crazy person."

"Oi, you lot are always telling me I should think things through more. Look before I leap?"

"This is overthinking, Charles." She sighed, throwing her hands up. "Whatever. I'm not gonna change your mind, so. Why bother, right?"

She sat on the bench next to him, staring out across the empty duck pond side by side. Stuffy professor bloke must've gone to join the party for the countdown — Charles wondered who he'd be snogging.

Crystal leaned in, and bumped his shoulder. "Are you really gonna sit here and mope while all your friends are back there having fun? Are you that pissed at Niko?"

Guilt knocked Charles like a cricket bat to the knees. "No. No, 'course not." And that's the thing, wasn't it? Obviously he wasn't pissed at Niko, not really. Who could be pissed at someone for wanting Edwin to be their first kiss? If he could replace his own stupid, friendship-destroying first kiss with Edwin, he'd do it in a heartbeat. He sighed, and rolled his shoulders. "It's sweet really, innit?"

She pulled her feet up onto the bench, hugging her knees. She was wearing loads of pretty rings tonight, suns and moons and staring eyes. They shimmered in the light from the quad like ripples on the pond. "I did try and talk her out of it," she said. "For you. But she's a little hammered, and she got like, super invested in the idea. I kinda didn't have the heart to push it."

"Cheers." He chuckled, shaking his head. "Nah, it's alright. It's good." He smiled at her. It probably wasn't convincing, but that was alright. There was never any need to put on airs for Crystal's sake. "She deserves it."

She let her head roll back a bit, giving him a weary look. "You do, too, you know."

He looked at his feet.

Sighing, Crystal put her feet on the ground and took his hand. "C'mon. Countdown's about to start — and the cutest girl at this party is about to make out with your boyfriend, so. I'm gonna need a kissing partner."

He laughed, and let her pull him to his feet.

Crystal, he knew from experience, was a good kisser. 'Least he assumed she was. He still couldn't exactly feel it, but he knew good technique when he saw it.

So when the countdown hit zero and the campus erupted into drunken hollers of 'happy new year!', Charles laughed and wrapped his arms around her. They fell into the kind of easy, fun friend-snog that he was a bloody lucky chap to have. Giggling against each other's lips, her hands playing with his hair. All in all, not a bad way to ring in the new year.

Still, he may have taken a peek over her shoulder, as the crowd started to break into a spirited chorus of Auld Lang Syne. May have let his eyes linger on the sweet way Edwin held Niko's hands between their chests. The way his eyes closed and his smile softened as he leaned down to press the most polite, perfect, gentlemanly little lingering smooch on her lips.

If he lost track of the kiss with Crystal, of where their hands were, of when she pulled away. If he spent the rest of the night not saying much, not looking anyone in the eye. If, when he helped Edwin herd their tipsy human friends safely back to their dorm, his eyes kept wandering to the little shine on Edwin's lips, where Niko's strawberry gloss had transferred...

Well. Not anyone's business, really, was it?

So, bit of a setback, then. But Charles wasn't giving up that easy. He'd been to actual hell and back for Edwin — he could handle a few scuppered gambits!

Still, two tries at the 'tradition' angle was already pushing his luck — Charles didn't think he'd get away with a third crack at it. Besides, the next snogging holiday on the calendar was Valentine's. If he had to wait 'til fucking February to snog Edwin he was gonna lose it. Two more months just existing around Edwin at his most kissable, not kissing him? Evil. Torture. Fucking agony.

Niko might've nicked his kiss, but the whole college party thing did give him a new idea. And when they shut down the agency after a stressful case for a well-deserved night of games and good company, he spotted the perfect opportunity.

"Spin the bottle?" said Crystal, withering. "Seriously?"

Obviously, she knew exactly what his game was. But he gave her a grin anyway, silently pleading go along with it, please, I'm begging. "I've never played it. And you girls aren't half making me feel like I've missed out on some cracking uni times. C'mon, it'll be fun — we're all mates, in't we?"

"Well, I'm out," said Jenny, unfolding herself from the couch and grabbing her leather jacket. "Thanks for the eight million rounds of Clue, I guess, but I am not sitting here making out with a bunch of kids."

"Technically, Edwin's over a hundred," Charles joked.

He saw Edwin smirk over his hand of cards. "Yes, I'm remarkably well preserved."

Charles grinned, bumping their shoulders. "And I'm fifty... three? I think?"

"Fifty four," Edwin corrected.

"And we're nineteen," added Crystal.

Jenny narrowed her eyes, casting suspicious glances between Niko and Crystal. "Weren't you sixteen, like, five minutes ago?"

"You mean when we met?" asked Crystal, tone flat. "In Port Townsend?"

"Two and half years ago?" Crystal added sweetly.

Jenny closed her eyes, exhaling through her nose. "Right. Now I'm leaving because I'm thinking about the passage of time, and I hate it." She shrugged on her jacket. "Have fun, kids. Don't catch any ghost STDs, or whatever."

A knock on the door interrupted their various squawking complaints. Edwin frowned. "Charles, you did put the sign on the front door?"

"Yeah, 'course I did," said Charles, with a roll of his eyes. "Some ghosts can't take a hint. I'll tell 'em to come back tomorrow."

He hopped up and followed Jenny to the door, spying a nondescript human-ish shape through the frosted glass. Jenny opened it, exchanged a cool nod with whoever it was, and went on her way. As she stepped out of his line of sight, Charles got a good look at their visitor.

"Oh. It's you," he said, crossing his arms and leaning on the doorframe with a scowl. "Thought I nailed down that cat flap."

The Cat King gave him a smug, punchable smirk. He was wearing his stupid skin-tight black leathers, hair all dark and slicked. Wearing sunglasses at night like a tosser. In his hand was a bottle of wine. "Cute. Heard there was a party."

"Oh!" Niko popped up at Charles' shoulder, and bobbed in a little almost-bow. "Hello, your highness!"

He returned it with a gracious nod and an actual, non-ironic smile. Charles didn't know his face was capable of those. "Niko."

"Niko, you invite this prick?" Charles muttered — not actually quiet enough for Whiskers not to overhear, but he wasn't trying that hard.

"I did," said Edwin, appearing at Charles' other shoulder. He raised an eyebrow at the Cat King. "Or at least I made contact, fairly recently. I don't recall disclosing any information about a party..."

"I read between the lines." The smarmy bugger leaned on the doorframe, ignoring Charles' defensive stance. Shoulder brushing up against Charles', he took off his shades, yellow eyes gobbling Edwin up like a meal. "Edwin," he said, drawing out the name like he liked the taste of it.

"Thomas," Edwin returned — and his lips twitched up at the corners. "I suppose you had better come in."

"Oh, well, if you insist," he grinned, shoving the bottle into Charles' hands as he brushed past him. "I just love games. What are we playing?"

"Charles was suggesting a game called spin the bottle. Are you familiar?"

Thomas spun on his heel, and arched both eyebrows at Charles. "Oh, I'm very familiar," he purred.

Christ, could this get any worse...?

"Thomas," said Edwin, sternly. Dead calm, considering the bottle neck was aimed at him like the barrel of a gun. "We did say no magic."

"And I am a cat of my word," Thomas swore, crossing his heart lazily. "Must be written in the stars, handsome."

Edwin's eyebrow twitched.

Thomas chuckled. "Or I'm good at spinning bottles. Nothing in the rules against that!"

Edwin hummed. "Seven in a row is impressive."

Charles glowered at the stupid bottle. "I still think he's cheating," he grumbled.

Thomas flashed eyes at him, but didn't pick Charles up on it. Why would he? He had better things to do. "Honey," he purred, slinking on his hands and knees across the circle. "I can keep this up all night..."

"Is that a threat?" said Edwin, dry as a bone — but there was a twinkle of humour in his eyes. They drifted shut, easy as you like, when Thomas tucked a finger under his chin and pressed their mouths together.

Charles squirmed in place, frustration bubbling. He didn't want to look. He didn't wanna see Edwin, with that same gentlemanly poise he'd had while kissing Niko, graciously submitting to that moggy's cheesy moves. He definitely didn't wanna see Edwin's composure crack and his breath hitch when Thomas scraped a sharp fang against his lower lip. Didn't wanna see his hands come up from their neat fold in his lap to cup, tentative, around Thomas' elbows. He didn't want to look, just like he hadn't wanted to look the first six bloody times it had happened.

But it's not like he could look away, either, could he?

Charles grabbed the bottle, snatching it from under the Cat King's boot. This might be the first time in thirty-something years he'd actually regretted sitting next to Edwin for something. Front row seats to seven kisses with this bastard wasn't exactly what he was hoping for out of this. The ones with Niko and Crystal were bad enough. "Alright, alright, don't milk it," he muttered. "My go, is it?"

Thomas broke the kiss — the sound of it grated on Charles' ears like nails on a chalkboard. "Go for it," he said, tossing Edwin a wink as he skulked back to his side of the circle. "See you in the next round."

Edwin cleared his throat, adjusting his collar.

"Charles, how long are we gonna keep doing this?" asked Crystal. Her feet were in Niko's lap and she was down to her last dregs of cider. "We've been round seven times, and there's five of us. We haven't got, like, a whole lot of combinations to work with, here."

His jaw ticked. "Yeah, but. Got a few more yet, haven't we?"

Seven spins, and Charles had managed to snog Crystal twice and Niko three times. He'd landed the bottle on himself twice. Seven spins of this stupid bottle, and Charles hadn't managed to land it on Edwin once.

Crystal groaned, flopping back on the floor with her arms over her face. "Fucking guys," she muttered.

Niko, who had one hand on Crystal's ankle and the other in a bag of crisps, shrugged. "I'm cool with it."

Charles ignored them both. He sized up his spin, took a steadying breath, and let it loose. The bottle whirled round and round, the low office light flashing off it. Rippling in slower and slower rotations 'til it landed, pointed squarely at...

The Cat King grinned, slow and insufferable. "If you wanna take the forfeit on this one, kiddo, I won't be offended." He shrugged. "I'll question your taste, but I won't be offended."

Edwin bit his lip, probably to hold back laughter, and looked away from them both.

Charles scowled. "Sod this," he said, chucking the bottle at the growing pile for recycling. "Let's play Monopoly."

There was a bright side, to having to spend the rest of the night with Thomas hanging off Edwin's arm like a trophy wife. And that bright side was watching him lose at Monopoly, badly. The game ended sometime after one in the morning, when Thomas swatted the pieces off the board for the third time and no one could be bothered to reset. Charles had been losing just as bad, half his cash sunk into Niko's indomitable real estate empire, but at least he wasn't getting stroppy about it.

After that, seemed everyone agreed it was the right time to call it quits. Crystal and Niko bundled up in their winter coats, hugged their goodbyes, and got going. Charles would've walked them back to their digs, but they could look after one another alright. He was more concerned about leaving Edwin and that bloody cat alone together. He didn't like the way they were hovering in the doorway, like they were saying goodbye at the end of a date.

"You've come a long way," said Edwin. "I take it you've methods of getting back to Port Townsend tonight?"

Thomas opened his mouth, a glint in his eye. Charles smacked it down with a glare over Edwin's shoulder. Didn't want him getting any ideas about trotting out some excuse to stay the night. Thomas clocked it, and gave a dramatic sigh.

"Pfft. What's a thousand miles to a cat king?" he said, with a dismissive flick of his wrist. "Just a hop through the nearest shadow." His hand alighted on Edwin's arm, tracing down to his wrist with a thumb-claw. "But I love that you're worried about me. Really. Makes me feel all warm and fuzzy inside."

"I'll walk you to the door," Charles blurted, before Edwin could get a word in edgeways. Which only resulted in both of them giving him looks like they knew he was full of shit.

"How chivalrous of you," Thomas drawled.

"Indeed," said Edwin, eyeing Charles up and down. Made him squirm a bit, feeling all hot and exposed under the scrutiny. He was almost grateful when Edwin turned his attention to the Cat King again. "Until next time, then."

"Promises, promises," Thomas purred.

His cocky demeanour evaporated when Edwin leaned in to brush a chaste, fleeting kiss against his cheek.

Charles chewed his lip, and looked at his feet.

"Safe travels," said Edwin, in a softer tone.

He gave a small smile, and turned on his heel to march primly back into the office. And Thomas stared after him with scarred lips softly parted, pupils blown big as planets.

Charles, with an awkward cough, stepped into the hall and shut the office door behind him. "Right," he said. "Off you go, then."

Thomas turned his eyes on him — his pupils sharpened back to points, his lip curled into a scowl. "You're a real little brat, you know that?"

Charles crossed his arms. "Just looking out for my mate. He doesn't need some mangy old stray sniffing round him all hours."

The Cat King gave him a nasty little smile, flashing his teeth. "I didn't see him complaining."

Bristling, Charles planted his feet, squared his shoulders. "You fuckin' starting, or what?"

The bastard just laughed, raising his hands in mock surrender. "Relax, jeez. I'm not picking a fight with some pup on this... dingy little building. I'm leaving."

He turned and walked off down the hall — but he spun back round after a couple of steps. "But, um. If I can give you just one teeny tiny piece of advice?" He didn't give Charles the chance to say no. "He's not gonna wait around forever."

Hit him right between the eyes with that one. Charles flinched. "Dunno what you're —"

"Oh, puh-lease," he groaned, sliding his sunglasses out of his pocket. "You're playing a little game of your own, aren't you? And losing, by the looks of it. Honestly, it's — it's painful to watch. Well, whatever he loves me, he loves me not bullshit you're doing right now, please, enough. Quit sitting around, pulling the petals off fucking daisies, and do something about it. For all our sakes." He opened the folded shades with a flick of his wrist. "Especially his."

He put them on, turned round, and continued his swaggering walk-off. Charles, caught completely on the back foot, scrambled to recover.

"Yeah, that's right, walk away," he hollered. "And keep your bloody paws off him!"

"Oh, don't even worry about it," he drawled. He turned round one last time to lower his shades and rake judgy eyes up and down Charles' frame. "Clearly, he's more of a dog person."

He sighed, stepping backwards into the shadows at the end of the hall. He nudged the shades back up his nose, and the bright candles of his eyes went dark, too. "No accounting for taste."

He melted into the black; the last thing to disappear was the white slash of his sneer.

Edwin's eyes were on him the second he stepped back into the office.

"Charles," he said, levelly, setting aside his pen and notebook on the desk. "Please do tell me you didn't attempt to chase a powerful magical being out of our building with a cricket bat."

That surprised a laugh out of him, at least. "No. But would've been good, that." He slumped onto the desk at Edwin's side. "Why are you talking to that wanker again? You do remember the bit about him putting a bloody leash on you?"

"Granted, we... got off on the wrong foot." Edwin leaned back in his chair, steepling his fingers. "But we reached an understanding. Besides, when he's not holding his magic over one's head, he's rather..." he cleared his throat. "Entertaining."

Charles thought of that bloody moggy's wandering hands, his lips. Edwin receiving each and every kiss, oh so politely — 'til the cracks started to show. Thought of him breathless, and soft, and melting under that bastard's touch.

"Right. Entertaining." Charles sprang to his feet. "Think I'm gonna have a walk."

He didn't bother with the door again, stepping right through the window. What was wood, glass, and a three storey drop to a ghost, anyway?

Soon as he'd done it, he felt daft. Jumping out the window, sulking around the city in the middle of the night. All because of something a bloody cat said to him. Wasn't his proudest moment. Thing is, the cat may be a dick, but... he wasn't wrong, was he?

Why would Edwin wait forever?

He hadn't thought about it. Because they'd already been together forever, basically. And when Edwin told him he loved him, Charles said they had forever to figure out the rest and he'd bloody meant it. And yeah, alright, that was two years ago, but what was two years to them? They'd still been happy, hadn't they? Same old agency, same old friends. He thought they'd been even better, actually. Closer. Like they were all out of secrets.

But maybe that wasn't true. Edwin never told him 'bout kissing Monty, did he? Didn't tell him he was talking to the Cat King again.

And just 'cause Edwin loved him, didn't mean he had to wait for him to catch up, did it? He was growing up, growing into himself, figuring out what he wanted. Maybe he wanted to go out, meet people, snog people. Maybe he already was, and Charles was too busy sorting out his own jumbled feelings to have noticed. And y'know what, good for him. Good. For. Him.

Took Edwin a while to figure out what he wanted, sometimes. Didn't stop to think about his feelings enough, really, too buried in his books and stubbornness. But when he figured it out, he went for it. Come literal hell or high water, he went for it. Bloody fearless, he was.

Maybe if Charles was half as brave as Edwin Payne, they'd be sorted.

"So," said Crystal. "How's the plan going?"

Charles flopped face down on her sofa. "Shit."

"What batshit gimmick did you try this time?"

"Nasty poltergeist threw him 'cross the room. Knocked him out a bit for a minute, he was all like, dazed and that..."

"... And?"

"I... sort of... asked him if he needed mouth to mouth?"

"Charles. You're fucking killing me."

Alright, so. Maybe he was getting a bit desperate.

He'd trotted out every excuse in the book — as well as, let's face it, quite a few that weren't in the book for bloody good reason. He'd flirted, he'd teased and prodded. He'd made an idiot of himself explaining why going undercover as a couple was the best way to solve a case. He had looked Edwin dead in his gorgeous eyes when he asked what exactly constituted French kissing, and asked: "want me to show you, mate?"

Oh god, Crystal was right. This plan was bloody stupid. It wasn't even a plan anymore, it was a mad scramble of half-baked come-ons. And it was the best he could do because with every day that passed without kissing Edwin, the need to kiss him just grew. 'Til it was all he could think about, pushing every other thought out of his brain. There was no room for planning and scheming in his head when it was all what if I just gave him a peck, before he left? What if I pushed him against the wall a little? What if I just bloody went for it?

What if he kissed me back?

Even now, Edwin was clouding his thoughts, and he wasn't even doing anything. He was in his usual spot, at the desk, immersed in his work with a little satisfied smile on his lips. Voice light and soft as he muttered protective incantations over the pages of those salvaged short stories. The way his cadence lilted and his hands nimbly sketched out the gestures of the enchantment... Christ, Charles was going out of his mind.

He was out of ideas. He was out of plan, out of investigative tools. What the hell did that leave him with — except for the one thing he swore he'd never, never do?

"Can I kiss you?"

It was like magic, the way Edwin froze completely, head to toe. Nothing moved except his eyes, which shot to Charles and blinked, rapidly. "I... excuse me?"

Fuck. Fuck. "Sorry," Charles blurted, springing up from the couch. God, he'd blown it. He'd buggered it up. He rubbed the back of his head and didn't look Edwin in the eye. "Sorry, I didn't —"

"Charles."

He risked a glance. Edwin , papers forgotten, had both his hands braced on the desk and was staring at Charles like he was a puzzle to solve.

""Charles," he said again, calmly. Gently. "What did you just ask me?"

And just like that, it all spilled out.

"I just — I've been thinking about it, yeah? And, well, what you said to me, in hell? Well I think I might be... that, too. For you. But I don't know, and I don't wanna muck everything up, so I thought maybe if I just... kissed you, it would. I'd know, yeah? I'd know for sure and then I could give you a proper answer, right? So that's what I've been trying to do."

God, he was babbling. Fucking embarrassing. But he hated keeping secrets from Edwin and god, he was the only person Charles had wanted to talk about any of this shit with. He'd been dying to talk to him about it. Even as he felt himself digging deeper into a hole with every word, the relief of finally saying it was immense.

"I just... I wanted to give you the right answer, yeah? No fuck-ups. But now I'm going a bit mental, see, because it's been months and... and all I can think about is kissing you." He laughed at himself. "Is that mad?"

Fuck, it was quiet. He could hear the pigeons on the roof, and the faint tap-tapping of the Night Nurse on her typewriter a few doors down. Edwin didn't say anything a moment, still as a statue, eyes wide, mouth slightly open. Charles was half tempted to walk right through the window again and try and pretend this never happened later.

"...Charles," said Edwin, finally — as he carefully stood up and rounded the desk. "...If I may clarify. Would I be correct in understanding that this has been on your mind for... months, you say?"

Charles fidgeted in place. "Um. Yeah. Yeah, I mean, it didn't become like, a plan 'til, um, 'round Christmas, I reckon? But I was thinking about it before that."

"So you've been thinking about... kissing me," said Edwin, drawing slowly closer. "Since last year."

"Yeah. At least, yeah."

Edwin came to a stop right in front of Charles, practically toe to toe, and gave him perhaps the most incredulous look he'd ever worn. "And you have not done so yet because...?"

I have no bloody clue, was Charles' first thought. Standing this close to Edwin's handsome face, it seemed fucking ridiculous.

But he swallowed tightly, same old doubt churning in his guts. "Because... 'cause if you don't like it, or — or if I don't like it, then..." His eyes flickered to Edwin's lips. "I... I don't wanna be the reason you never speak to me aga—"

And that was about as far as he got — because Edwin was kissing him.

Charles' breath caught, his hands flew up — fingers wrapping round Edwin's biceps and hanging on. It was, like... a shy kiss. Edwin's mouth barely opened, and he pressed politely into Charles' lips like he was rubberstamping an envelope. But it didn't matter. Charles still felt like he'd been knocked off his feet. Felt like his blood, or whatever the ghosty equivalent was, was all rushing to his head, his heart, his stomach. Felt like his knees didn't wanna hold him up.

When Edwin pulled away, too soon, you could've knocked Charles over with a feather.

"There," said Edwin, a little breathless. "I started it." He cleared his throat, straightened his waistcoat. "So if it wasn't... satisfactory, then. Well. You're not to blame. And we'll say no more of it. Agreeable terms?"

Charles gaped at him, slack jawed, starry eyed. Edwin, the madman, held his stare. He was panting softly, his pupils blown wide, and he looked nervous but he didn't back down. Steady, determined and... fucking beautiful.

Fearless. Bloody fearless.

Charles took Edwin's face in his hand, stroking his jaw. "You absolute nutter," he breathed, and pulled him in for another kiss.

This one? This one was not polite. Edwin made a fucking brilliant noise into Charles' mouth and surged into him like a tide. His hand on Charles' chest pushed, until his legs hit the sofa and he collapsed onto it. Edwin followed, still pushing, 'til he had Charles practically on his back, pressed into the leather with Edwin all but draped over him. Charles startled a bit but god, he was not complaining. He heard a soft thud, somewhere. Might've kicked something over, the tiny sofa too short for two six-foot lads to sprawl out over it like this. He didn't care. His fingers cracked through Edwin's stiff hair product as he dragged him closer. His other arm wrapped round Edwin's slim waist, locking him in.

It didn't feel like he remembered, the kissing. Back when he was alive. The heat wasn't exactly body heat, so much as... energy. Something that crackled like sparklers and tingled like spice. Edwin's lips didn't exactly feel soft or hard, warm or cold, wet or dry, but they felt real. Real and addictive and, for the moment, not even a little gentlemanly.

One thing's for sure: it did not feel like kissing Kelly Daniels in year nine.

Edwin broke away with a faint gasp. He stared down at Charles with huge eyes and his hair all out of joint, bowtie crooked. He was the most gorgeous, amazing thing Charles had ever seen and Christ, how could he have been so. Bloody. Thick?!

Charles blinked up at him. "Bloody hell," he said, awed. "I am... one thousand percent in love with you."

A mad, wild sort of hope darted across Edwin's face. But he pushed back a little, levering himself off Charles' chest. "You," he breathed, broken by a little disbelieving laugh. "You don't have to say that, Charles. Just because I did, that is. We can — hm — court a time, first, if you'd rather —"

"No, I — I mean it." Charles grabbed his face in both hands. And god, that was a bit nice, too, just holding him. How was he gonna resist doing it all the time? "I've been thinking about it and I was. I was almost sure, yeah? But now I'm definitely sure. I'm sorry. I didn't wanna say anything, 'til I knew, yeah? 'Cause, right, what if I didn't — what if you were Kelly Daniels?!"

Edwin blinked. "Who on earth is Kelly Daniels?" he asked, hopelessly bewildered.

Charles laughed. "Y'know what?" he said, hauling Edwin back down. "Doesn't matter."

Edwin kissed him again, sighing into it. His hands on Charles' neck and thumbing up under his jaw in a way that drove everything else out of his head. But too soon, he pulled back again. "I think it might matter a bit, actually," said Edwin. "On account of it being the reason we haven't been doing this for months, already."

Charles groaned. "It's — she's a girl I liked once, is all. Best mate growing up. Thought I liked her like that, but. I didn't. Screwed things up with her." His hands trailed down Edwin's arms, more than a little awed that he could just do that now. Edwin had proper nice arms. It was a good distraction from baring his soul. "Didn't wanna do that with you."

Edwin's face softened. "You never told me about her," he said. His hand, a little tentative, reached up; thumb coming up to stroke under Charles' eye. He might as well have cracked him open like an egg.

Charles squirmed a little, deflecting his vulnerability on a laugh. "It's — s'not important really, is it? Don't have to tell each other everything." He tugged at Edwin's bowtie. "I mean, you never told me you snogged Monty."

"It was hardly a snog," said Edwin, brows furrowing. "And I was not the one who... instigated."

"I'm not having a go!" Charles blurted. "I'm just. I'm just saying... I didn't tell you 'cause it didn't matter, really, did it?"

"Except it clearly did." Edwin did the worst thing he could have done — he sat up. Charles was embarrassed by how much he missed him already. Edwin perched himself primly on the edge of the sofa, straightening himself out a bit. He couldn't do much about his hair. "If it's been weighing on you. I wish you would have spoken to me about it."

His hand, after some nervous hovering, patted Charles' knee. "I've made it clear that you can come to me with things, Charles. Even if it is not always... comfortable, for me." He cleared his throat, staring straight ahead. "But I'd rather a modicum of discomfort, if it means you can speak your mind."

Charles sat up, hunching into Edwin's space. A part of him was still nervous to reach out and touch, but he did it anyway. Held Edwin's jaw, tilted his face towards him. He looked so wary, so poised and buttoned-up. You'd never guess he'd just been snogging Charles into the couch like some ghosty Casanova. He'd just let out something raw and real, trusted Charles with it, and now all Charles was doing was shutting him out.

He swallowed, stroking Edwin's cheek. "Didn't tell you 'cause I was scared," he admitted. "Haunts me a bit, what happened with her. I didn't... Didn't want you to see how fucked up I was about it.

Edwin exhaled, the hard line of his brows softening. "Charles," he said, tone warm, amused. "With utmost respect: I do not believe you could ever be 'fucked up' in any way that matters a damn to me."

Charles laughed, ducking his head and shaking it. "Alright, alright..."

"I mean, I have seen you commit murder. And arson. And there was that business in oh-nine, with the —"

"Alright!"

"Besides, I've seen far worse," said Edwin, airily. "After seventy years in hell —"

"Oh, you've been to hell?" Charles teased. "Didn't know that about you. Why didn't you say somethin' before?"

Edwin gave him a withering look, head tilted. He wasn't wearing a pair of half-moon glasses but he might as well have been peering over some. But there was a twinkle in his eye and the shadow of a smile on his lips and he was so, so fucking gorgeous it hurt to look directly at him.

"Can I kiss you?" asked Charles, again.

Edwin laughed, a surprised little thing that showed his teeth. "Have I not made the answer to that abundantly clear?"

Charles grinned, pulling him in. "Just checking."

"I suppose, in the interest of transparency," said Edwin, some time later. "I should tell you about Monty."

Charles hummed, eyes closed. They weren't sleeping, obviously. But it was tempting, with his ear pressed to Edwin's chest, wrapped round him like an octopus. He could almost trick himself into hearing a heartbeat, pattering soft and quick like the inflection of Edwin's voice.

"He kissed me. I'm afraid I might have... confused him, a little bit." Edwin's long, steady fingers stroked through Charles' curls. It was brills. "I was actually coming to understand my feelings for you at the time, and may have... miscommunicated. I told him immediately that I wasn't interested."

Charles tipped his head back, propping his chin on Edwin's chest, peering up at him under heavy eyelids. "How'd he take it?"

"Well, not excellently," said Edwin, with a quiet tsk. "He did try to feed us to a ghost-devouring fungus not a day later." He scratched absently behind Charles' ear. "Although I believe he was conflicted about it. Might have had a change of heart, in fact. Although when the Cat King revealed his true nature, it all got a bit lost in the shuffle."

"Mm." Charles raised an eyebrow. "Cat King was there, was he?"

Edwin fidgeted slightly under him. "...Yes."

Charles chuckled, tilting his head into Edwin's hand. "What is your deal with that bloke?" he asked, brushing a kiss across Edwin's palm. "Have you two been... you know..."

He told himself, sternly, that he would not get jealous. Hard to be jealous, really — when that prick was sulking around in some warehouse across the sea, and Charles was getting the lapcat treatment.

Edwin's eyebrow twitched. "Certainly not," he said. "But I suppose we're friends, after a fashion. And..."

Charles folded his arms on Edwin's chest and propped his chin on them, watching expectantly. "And?"

Edwin, with an awkward clear of his throat, turned to look at the back of the sofa. He couldn't blush, but Charles could practically feel the way his face was burning. "Well," he said, curtly. "It would be remiss of me not to admit that I find his attention... flattering."

Grinning, Charles pushed up on his knees. "Edwin Payne," he teased, planting his elbows either side of Edwin's head. "You tellin' me you like being admired?"

Edwin's unimpressed face wasn't fooling anyone.

Chuckling, Charles leaned down, nuzzling into his throat. "Not gonna need that cat around for that, anymore," he said, pressing a kiss under Edwin's jaw that had him squirming. "Gonna have me ogling you so much you get sick of it."

"Not possible," said Edwin. He sighed, a gorgeous, throaty sound, and his hand dug once more into Charles' hair, and tightened. "But I should very much like to see you try."

Charles grinned into his neck. This was gonna become his new addiction; making Edwin forget his manners. "Can I —?"

"Always," Edwin interrupted him, dragging his face up out of his throat. "Without question."

"Aces," Charles breathed.

And that, he decided, was enough of the chit-chat. ~~

Jacques Futrelle was a mystery author who died on the Titanic, supposedly taking the last stories he ever wrote with him. Read about him as well as some other interesting lost detective media on this blog post! Hope you enjoyed this, whatever it was! I had SO much fun with the Cat King, I'll have to write more of him. If you enjoyed please consider dropping us a comment, I'd love to hear your thoughts! I sank significantly more time into this than I intended to xD (and for those curious, I'm still testing covid positive but feeling much better! Mainly just sick of being cooped up inside at this point!) 'Til next time - I need to try and wrangle chapter three of Lonely Bones into some kind of shape next 😅

#dead boy detectives #dbda #payneland #charles rowland #edwin payne #my fanfic #my shoulder hurts like a BITCH so might need a short writing break now dvjndsd #back to lonely bones soon tho!#hope you like thiiiis pls consider reblogging/commenting etc ily 💛

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