#I’m calling it on your quota

[breannasfluff]

bee emoji

"Show Dog"

Why the yiga are holding a dog show is debatable. Whats more debatable is the idea of the entering Wolfie as a contestant to infiltrate their ranks. But if he’s going to be entered, he’s going to win.

[fingertipsmp3]

My sister messaged me

[gunnerfc]

Protective | Leah Williamson [fluff blurb]

Summary: You get tackled during a game and Leah comes to your defense because she knows you’re too nice to complain about the tackle

AN: protective bf leah save me… save me protective bf leah 🧎

You spent most of the game on the ground since each time you had the ball, a Chelsea player was there to knock you off your feet. Leah grimaced from the bench each time she watched you hit the ground, rolling her eyes when the defender received no warning from the ref. She hated that you took each tackle with a smile on your face, she wanted you to fight back but she knew that wasn't the person you were.

Leah was thankful when Jonas signaled for her to warm up, with her on the pitch there would be someone to plead to the ref for a yellow for the Chelsea players. As the blonde was warming up, you suffered a hard tackle that sent you to the ground. Leah’s jaw clenched as she watched you curl up in pain, the ref yet to hand out a yellow card to the visiting team. 

Jonas called the defender over to the official, taking the time to sub her on. You sat up gingerly where you were pulled down, a small shot of pain in your ankle as you were helped to your feet by Katie. You limped slightly off the pitch, shooting Jonas and your girlfriend a thumbs up that you were okay. Leah was subbed on as you waited on the sideline for the refs to allow you back on the pitch.

You knew with Leah on now, the tackles you were dealt would not go without a complaint. You didn’t see the point in trying to convince the ref of anything, if they wanted to call a foul they would and you didn’t want to risk getting a card yourself for talking back. There were only ten minutes left to play and you could only hope that the Chelsea players had reached the max quota of tackles on you. 

Your hopes were wrong as you were brought down right outside the box in the eighty-eighth minute and there was no whistle. You groan as another shot of pain hits your ankle and you refuse to get up right away. Chelsea played the ball out quickly, hoping to create one more chance before the game ended. 

You could hear loud yells from the home crowd and Jonas as you continued to lay on the ground. You heard the ref’s whistle after a moment, her finally realizing you weren’t getting up anytime soon and needed the medical staff. You didn’t need to look to see how Leah and Katie immediately crowded around the ref, jumping into protective girlfriend and best friend mode. 

There was no need for you to continue in the last minutes as you watched one of the staff members signal for a sub. You could hear your girlfriend’s familiar accent as she all but yelled at the ref. You might have hated to be confrontational but you found your girlfriend defending you so passionately very attractive. You were helped off the pitch but your eyes met Leah’s before you were off and you sent her a small nod to show you were okay. 

You didn’t bother heading back to the locker room, opting to sit on the bench with your teammates as the medical staff wrapped your ankle in ice. There were five minutes of stoppage time added and you kept your eyes locked on Leah, hoping she wouldn’t do anything crazy. You smiled to yourself as you watched the blonde tackle the player who tackled you last, laughing at her expression when it was she who got the yellow card. 

You sighed when the ref blew her whistle to end the game, your team coming away with the victory. You limped back onto the pitch, shaking hands with anyone you passed on your way to your girlfriend. You had a bright smile on your face when you reached her, quickly throwing your arms around her neck to pull her into a tight hug. 

You buried your face into her jersey as her hands wrapped around your waist tightly. You pulled back slightly to rest your forehead on hers, your smile never leaving your face. “Are you alright, love,” the blonde whispered softly, concern lacing her words.

“I’m fine, just a bit sore,” you smiled your normal bright smile. Leah couldn’t help but be infected by your upbeat mood. 

“We’ve got to work on your arguing, you have no problem when it’s me!” Leah joked as she guided you to the team circle.

You laughed at her words, both of you knowing that it wouldn’t be anytime soon. But why would you attempt to argue with the refs when you had your protective girlfriend to come to your defense anytime you needed her to? You loved how Leah defended you and wouldn’t want to change that.

[miguelhugger2099]

Hello can I request a Miguel ohara x spiderwoman reader, where the readers baby (kid or sibling) sneak into HQ without them knowing it and Miguel is force to babysit the baby with the reader?

such a cute request !!! more miguel with babies !!! (in a non traumatic way)

Miguel x Reader, Fluff, Word Count: 1,357

You were running late to head to HQ, hastily shoving your foot into the space of your spider suit. You pick up your bagel from the counter to take a large bite before sliding your arms through the sleeves and zipping yourself up as best as you could. You looked over at the couch, seeing your baby brother passed out, his little arm dangling off the cushion while his other arm held your Spider-Woman figure close to his chest. Having a bit of peace of mind, you decided that it was alright for you to leave while you had the chance until your mother could get home. Lifting up your Gizmo, you placed it around your wrist and typed in the numbers for Miguel’s dimension. The usual warping started, lifting your home trinkets in the air and giving a breeze that was trying to suck in its wormhole. The familiar hexagon grows inside your home, flashing lights and you put on your mask before jumping in–failing to notice that the noise made a certain toddler wake up. Landing on your feet, you found yourself on the beam that leads to Miguel’s office. You greeted a few other Spider-People and Peters while jogging past them. They waved back and some let out a few chuckles which would’ve confused you if you weren’t so focused on trying to not be so late. When the doors opened up, you slowed down your jogging to a normal walk to pretend you weren’t hauling ass and to calm your racing heart. You took a peek around the corner to see Miguel on his usual platform, typing and swiping away yellow hologram screens. You take a deep breath and swallow. “Miguel.” You call out. He doesn’t move an inch when he hears you and continues to pull up another video recording. “You’re late.” He says, his soft voice echoing in the giant room. You wince and purse your lips. “Just a bit. I’m sorry. I woke up late, my baby brother was restless and–”

“Doesn’t matter. Just get up here.” Miguel motions you up to his high platform with his hand. You then use your web shooter to stick onto the hunk of metal and swing yourself up beside him. “So what’s the quota for today?” You ask, going into work mode as his right hand. Miguel pulls up a few monitors to show you glimpses of camera footage of anomalies around different dimensions. “We just need to bring as much back to their homes. Lyla hasn’t detected any further canon events.” You nod along, peering into the footage and unsuspecting to the little toddler waddling inside with a toy in his hand. He stumbles a bit, falling to his knees and hands and dropping the toy with a soft clank. Due to how high you and Miguel were, you could barely hear it. He grunts as he gets up, patting the imaginary dust off himself and picking up the toy version of you. Once he picks it up, he lifts it high up in the air with a worried look that this little toy version of you had been damaged or scratched. His eyes go in and out of focus as he notices two figures in the air on the platform you were standing on. Slowly, he makes the connection that the toy and you were in the same room. He had found you! He giggles happily and calls out your name with his own squeaky voice. Your and Miguel’s head snap down to look at the noise and you gasp loudly, calling out his own name in return with worry.

You quickly rip off your mask and swing down to him, collecting him in your arms. “What–how–What are you doing here?!” You whisper-yell at him, which he giggles at. “There–there was a big–whoosh–and I woke up and you went in and I went here!” He explains, using his little toy figure to give a visual explanation. “What happened?” You hear Miguel ask from above. “Nothing–Just–Nothing!” You try to hide your brother from Miguel to avoid looking irresponsible. “Come back up here.” He says. You brother tries to peek through your hair up at Miguel before you use your webs to swing back up to the platform. “I’m so sorry, Miguel. My brother–he–I think he followed me into the portal without me knowing. My mom was supposed to be home after I left but now that he’s here, she probably thinks I’m taking care of him…” You ramble on and on all while your brother reaches out to Miguel, curious and admiring his gigantic build and cool look. You try to hold him back, another apology ready to spill out your lips when Miguel reaches out and takes your brother in his hands. It’s uncomfortable for a moment, but Miguel stays neutral. Miguel carefully cradles your brother in his arms, shifting him around to rest him on his hip. Your brother looks up at Miguel with wonder and then looks at you, finally connecting the dots that you’re in your spider suit. “She–she’s not, um, Spider-Woomin.” He shakes his head and rests his head on Miguel’s shoulder, picking up the toy's arm up and down. He then glances at you with his eyes and gives you a smile–since he kept his promise of not telling anyone you’re a superhero. You laugh a dry chuckle–the promise only being meant for people in your universe instead of your literal boss–but you pat his head anyway.

You look up at Miguel apologetically. “I’m really sorry about this Miguel. God, it was so dangerous for him to portal here and be her. I–I’ll take him home.” You try to scoop him out of Miguel’s hands but he subtly tightens your brother in his arms. “It’s fine,” He says softly. “I don’t mind. If there’s no one home to care for him, he can stay here,” He shrugs and looks down at your brother mindlessly making your toy fly in the air. “Peter brings Mayday all the time, Jess just had Gerry–really your brother wouldn’t be a problem.” He assures you. “Are you sure…?” You ask hesitantly, wincing that he’s just being too nice. You then noticed the platform come to a stop at the ground. Miguel had lowered the three of you down so he could let the child roam freely without hurting himself. He places him down but he chooses to stay seated by Miguel’s side, growing fonder of him. “Yes,” Miguel says. “It’s no problem.” He places a hand on your shoulder and you stiffen softly at the physical contact. Your brother watches up at you two, nibbling on the toy’s head. You relax, seeing and feeling how he means it–he really doesn’t mind. “Alright.” You smile up at him and can even see just a glimpse of his own. For the remainder of the day, you and Miguel switch between holding your brother when he wants to be held and entertaining him when he’s bored. The toddler would often try to bother Miguel, which he didn’t mind and you apologized for, so he would take him in his arms and Miguel would lead you through the various files and direct you what to do while he held him. At some point, your brother began whining and wanting food in a sleepy state. Miguel offered the cafeteria to you and you both went in hopes that your brother would want to find something to eat before having his nap. While on the way, Miguel holds the sleepy child in his arms, your brother's little arms barely even wrapping around Miguel’s broad neck. Other spiders look with wide eyes and murmuring amongst themselves.

“Did they ‘ave a kid?” Hobie mutters to Gwen. Gwen looks around him to see Miguel holding your brother carefully in his arms while you try feeding bits and pieces of some chicken nuggets and slices of apples. “No,” She looks back up at Hobie with a frown before it drops and she takes a double take to see the soft happy look on Miguel’s face while you feed the child. “No…right?”

[deadsetobsessions]

Her name is Drake, Tim Drake.

Except, unlike Bond, James Bond, she’s not a badass who saves queens and get the girls at the end. Well, no, she did get the very amazing woman at the end, and she had the ring to prove it. But not right now. No, right now, she’s a tiny little girl in the middle of a mental breakdown as her parents cart her away from the bodies of the flying Graysons and their wailing son.

See, Tim Drake wasn’t supposed be a girl. Tim Drake wasn’t supposed to be Theodora Janet Drake, shortened to Timmy because her air headed jackass of a father forgot her name once.

Tim Drake wasn’t supposed to be a woman shoved into a body that wasn’t hers.

By the time Timmy got out her catatonic state of existential crisis, her parental units (faulty parental units) had already left to a dig site a world away. The nanny they’d hired for the three year old had left the slip of a girl in her room, content to just make edible toddler food and spend the day casually checking in on her. The nanny had no concept of stealth, so at least Timmy could hear her thundering footsteps long before she got to Timmy’s room.

She would have been sad, had she not had a full set of memories of a well adjusted adult. In fact, all she felt was relief.

As weird as being comic book character is, Timmy supposed that she should be glad she wasn’t like the original. The dysphoria was already significant, in this tiny body, so pale and white, unlike her calloused and tanned skin she’d come to love. If she was in Tim Drake’s male body…

No, Timmy knew when to count her blessings.

Not that being beholden to Gotham was much of a blessing. Timmy could tell already that whatever had brought her here was going to make sure she stayed. How did she know?

There’s a gamer’s interface hovering on the right of her vision, blaring [WELCOME TO GOTHAM, PLAYER 1!] in annoyingly large white letters.

Timmy sighed and gave in. She tapped the ‘start’ button and the world greyed to a stop.

[ACHIEVEMENT- SO I’M IN ANOTHER UNIVERSE- MET!]

Underneath it, to Timmy’s tired mind, laid the damning and probably helpful:

[TUTORIAL UNLOCKED!]

Timmy tapped the screen again.

[Welcome to Gotham!] The informational screen started. [By now, you’ve realized that you’ve been reincarnated into the lovely and not at all depressing world of Batman!]

Timmy muttered, “Just Batman? Not DC?” She blinked as the informational screen paused its typing before replying to her.

[Right now, you’ve only got the Gotham mode unlocked. Work hard and you can unlock the rest of the world! Maybe even the universe!]

Huh. An interactive interface. Timmy wonders why she’s so calm about this.

[That will all be explained shortly! Please allow for the tutorial to continue and make sure to save your questions for the end!]

Well, Timmy doesn’t want to be rude. She nodded. Interestingly, the interface picked up on both her thoughts and her movements.

[Welcome to Gotham!] It starts again, and Timmy felt a bit of guilt in making it start over. It’s like getting cold called and the caller is just a tired person trying to make their quota for minimum wage and instead of patiently listening to the spiel, Timmy had interrupted so now they had to restart the rehearsed speech. Oof.

[You’ve been reincarnated into the body of our very own Red Robin, Timothy Drake! How exciting! The powers that be, was, and will be has selected your lucky soul to be a beta tester for their relatively new reincarnation roulette!]

See, none of that sounds particularly… “good” for Timmy. Timmy hums as she settled back on the greyed out floor, eyes fixed onto the screen.

[As such, to be the first player deposited in this universe-]

And oh, doesn’t that have some interesting implications.

[The powers that be have decided to grant you a boon! The Gamer’s Exclusive Ultra Package!]

The interface exploded with holographic confetti.

Timmy thought her wife would have loved this… had she not died months before Timmy did.

[Included is the exclusive Gamer’s Mind and Body passive status! You won’t be as traumatized by traumatizing things! A boon, in the hellscape that is Gotham!]

Timmy’s calling it. Whoever wrote this was a total troll. And had a sense of humor she could appreciate. That explained why she’s so… not freaking out about this entire thing.

[It also includes ten lucky draw tickets, with guaranteed five star skills/abilities per ticket! Wow! It’s almost worth getting killed and isekai’ed!]

Timmy snorted and tapped accept.

[And two revival tickets! These can bring any Schmuck dumb enough to get killed, right back to life, with zero drawbacks! To be used on anyone you wish, post tutorial.]

Timmy tilted her head. Useful. She tapped accept.

[Now, you might wonder: ah, why would the de oh so awesome and all powerful gods make me reincarnate here instead of allowing me to enjoy my afterlife with my beautiful wife?]

Timmy stilled, heart in her throat. That’s right… why?

The screen turned red. Ominously, smoke starts to steam out from the side.

[You’ve got blood on your hands, Timmy. That’s hard to wash away.]

The screen blinked back to its neutral blueish-white color.

[That, and it’s because the Powers that be made an oopsie and messed up this world so bad, we needed a soul from a different universe to replace Tim Drake’s. He kept dying! Which meant Batman kept dying! Which meant the entire universe went to shit! But we can’t just cut it off, it’s a main Universe! But nooo, does anyone listen to the admins? Noooo. Of course not! What does the literal administrator know in the face of an all powerful god-!]

Timmy blinked, sympathy welling for this person. This administrator. That sounded rough.

[Ahem. My apologies.] The admin apologized, somehow conveying sheepishness through a screen. Timmy got a notification.

[ACHIEVEMENT- COMMISERATING WITH A CO-WORKER- MET!]

[1,000 Shop Points Granted. Message: You’ve worked under tyrannical bosses too! Kindred Soul!]

“Yeah, it be like that. I’m sorry you had to clean up their messes.” Timmy said.

[I, too, am sorry you were dragged from your afterlife for it.]

The two overworked employees shared a solemn moment.

[Well, then! This brings us to your goal! Keep Batman from killing himself, and fulfill Timothy Drake’s Destiny!]

“And what is his destiny, exactly?”

[To keep Batman from dying, becoming a crime-fighter, get beat up by Jason Todd, and destroy Ra’s al Ghul’s work with explosions!]

“That’s… really specific. I just have to fulfill those?”

[Yes! Not in any particular order, of course. And in any way you see fit!]

That last part was italicized, like the admin knew what was brewing in Timmy’s brain. They probably did.

[And now, please direct your attention to the screen to the right. ]

Four boxes popped up.

SHOP

LUCKY DRAW

QUESTS

PROFILE

[Underneath “Quest” is all of your current objectives! For now, the Tutorial is selected and can not be put on hold!]

Timmy obligingly tapped “QUEST.”

Main Quest: Get Your Shit Together, Batman!

Main Quest: Jason Todd and His “E is rated for Everyone” Hands!

Main Quest: No Crime Under My Watch!

Main Quest: Play Bomberman With A Bunch Of Ninja Assassins Led By A Borderline Immortal Cult Leader!

Main Quest: Tutorial!

Side Quest: Level Up!

Side Quest: Learn a Skill!

Side Quest: Nanny Bye-Bye!

And so on, and so on.

“Woah. Nanny Nye-Bye?” Timmy tapped, clicking away at the reminder that Tutorial could not be paused.

[Side Quest: Nanny Bye-Bye.]

[Your nanny has been embezzling the allowance your parents gave her to feed you! Since your bourgeoisie parents have no sense of how much things should actually cost to eat, you’re stuck eating boxed food and unhealthy things while your nanny goes out for hotpot every other week! The injustice! Get her fired before the month ends!]

[Rewards: 1000 EXP. An approving nod from the scary Draconic Janet Drake. $800 per month.]

[Failure: -2 (permanent) to Health. Your status will be [Malnourished] until 17 years old. A disproving glance from the scary Draconic Janet Drake.]

…

“What the ****?”

[Language filters are unlocked at level five.]

Timmy grumbled.

“What if I need to curse to complete my missions?” She asked.

[Then Player One needs to buy herself a sense of creativity.]

Timmy scowled but moved on. She perused the shop, window shopping as one might say, while asking the Admin some more questions.

“Does the Keep Batman Alive quest have a time limit?”

[Until Damian Wayne has had at least four years of being Robin.]

Timmy nodded, brain whirring with plans.

“Hey, admin?”

[Yes, Player One?]

“If I’m player one, does that mean there will be other players?”

[Yes, Player One. There will be more! But unlike you, their abilities will be based on your feedback of the reincarnation system. Not to mention, they will not be reborn as a predetermined Main Character like yourself. This is because your existence was a result of a cosmic oopsie that had better never happen again or I’m going to rip their star-riddled hides from their cosmic bodies. Does that answer your question, Player One?]

Timmy leaned away from the screen. Intimidating.

“Yep. Thanks.”

[Anytime. Would you like to play the Lucky Draw?]

“Yes, please.”

The Luck Draw Menu was pulled up again. Timmy looked at the amount of tickets she had and shrugged. She tapped the “DRAW ONE” option.

The gacha machine spun and spun until:

[DING! DING! DING! Congratulations! You got a five star skill! Eloquence Beyond Measure!]

Timmy checked it out.

Eloquence Beyond Measure!

[As expected of a true Bristol elite (and not one of those snotty snobs of children running afoot with their parent’s money), you’ve gained the ability to spit fire and ice out of your mouth! What you want to say will always come out of your in a way that benefits you most! Diplomats kneel to your eloquence! Socialites dare not provoke you in fear of your barbed words! You’ll never sound like you don’t know what you’re doing ever again!]

Huh. Timmy grinned.

“Thanks, Administrator. Is the tutorial done? I just had an idea about that Nanny Side-Quest.”

[The last task is to check your profile, Player One.]

“Thanks. You can call me Timmy, you know? We’re in this together now.” Timmy grimaced. She just wanted to rest. Chances are, so did Admin.

[Timmy, then.]

Timmy tapped PROFILE.

Theodora “Timmy” Janet Drake

Level 1 (EXP to Next Level: 500)

Status: Healthy. Alive. Uninjured.

SKILLS: Eloquence Beyond Measure

[STATS]

Timmy sighed and exited out of the window to finish the tutorial. She could peruse the stats later. She’s kind of hungry.

[Now that you’ve finished the basics, the powers that be encourages you to try your best to live out this life and fulfill your destiny! The Prize at the completion of Tim Drake’s destiny will be a reunion! With your beloved wife! Work hard, and she’ll be placed on this earth once more!]

Timmy sat up, throat burning. She could see her wife again? To tell her how she missed her and how much she loved her?

Timmy’s heart burned once more since the death of her wife.

Determination filled her now small body. She’ll wrangle the Bats to therapy kicking and screaming if that’s what it took to meet her beloved wife again.

[CONGRATULATIONS! YOU’VE FINISHED THE TUTORIAL! LEVEL UP! (1000 EXP TO LEVEL THREE)]

[REWARD: A PHONE! 100 SHOP POINTS!]

Timmy dialed the first contact she saw in the phone.

“Hello, this is Theodora Drake. Might I speak to my mother?” Her three year old voice smoothed out, suddenly eloquent and powerful in a way it simply wasn’t before. Eloquence Beyond Measure was proving useful already.

“Yes, of- of course, Miss Drake. Please hold.”

She waited.

“Theodora. What is it, daughter? You know better than to interrupt our digs.”

“Mother, it has come to my attention that my nanny is embezzling money from you. I have been eating boxed mac n’ cheese and only that for the past three days. They cost four dollars each. I would hate for my growth to be stunted.”

Two days later, Janet Drake and Jack Drake stormed into the mansion and threw out the nanny. Janet gives her an approving nod at her sudden eloquence (wow, these people had no idea what children were supposed to be like) and gave her a credit card to use freely.

Rich people. Honestly.

Timmy’s sly gaze was highlighted by the invisible glow of the congratulations banner.

[magics-neptunes-things]

Drunky girlfriend

Hi guys!

To honor my little Swiss princess, here’s a little thing with her.

Enjoy!

TW: Alcohol

Peacefully installed on her sofa under a plaid with a book that she wanted to discover for a long time, Lia is rather relaxed. Despite it being Saturday night, she chose to stay at home and enjoy an evening of calm. The sky has been dark for many hours outside and hearing the wind blowing from her sofa gives her an impression of extreme comfort.

Her phone is not far from her though, so she can see a notification from you, whatever it is. A message, a call, a photo, whatever. Despite your pleas, Lia preferred to stay home tonight but encouraged you to go out with some of your teammates. So a few hours ago you confirmed to her that you had arrived at the bar you had chosen, accompanied by Katie, Caitlin, Leah and Laura. But she asked you to call her so she could pick you up and take you home. At yours or hers, you haven't exactly decided.

After washing her teeth and grooming, Lia went to lie in bed, taking her book and phone with her. It's only when her phone rings that she realizes that she has fallen asleep.

"Hello?"

A mixture of discussions, music, screams and laughter resonate in her ear before someone speaks.

"Wally, it’s Leah. I think your girlfriend is ready to go home."

The fun is easy to hear in Leah’s tone, but the fact that she calls her with your phone worries the Swiss woman.

"Is everything alright?"

"Yes, she’s fine. But I think she got her quota of alcohol"

"I’m coming" Lia says, rolling her eyes. "Thank you, Leah."

After agreeing to get you to the exit and possibly make you drink some water, Lia hangs up and puts a coat over her clothes to get to her car. It’s not raining, but the wind is freezing and Lia hurries, not wanting to make you wait too long in these weather conditions.

The brunette has no problem locating the bar where you are, this is clearly not the first time that the girls from Arsenal go there and she went there herself several times as well. After parking, Lia gets out of the vehicle looking for you.

She ends up locating you effectively outside the establishment, collapsed laughing clinging to Katie who seems to be in the same state as you. Leah supervises you with an amused smile and cross arms and greets Lia with a hug when she reaches her height.

"What’s happening to them?" asks Lia, looking at you, unable to help but smile at you over the blonde’s shoulder.

"I didn’t understand what makes them laugh so much, but it sounds very funny" smiled Leah before shoving a bottle of water in Lia’s hands. "Well, I tried but she is convinced I want to poison her."

"I see she’s not the only one who abused alcohol"

Both of them turn their eyes on Katie and you, both trying to catch your breath between two bursts of laughter, which seems to worsen your laughter.

"This shot contest might not have been a good idea" agrees Leah. "Good luck"

She taps on Lia’s shoulder with sympathy, a small mischievous smile displayed on her lips however. The Swiss woman sighs softly and approaches you. You still haven’t seen her, too busy talking nonsense with Katie. It's only when she is at your height that you finally spot her.

"Baby!" you shout cheerfully before jumping into her arms.

"Here comes the missus" laughs Katie.

The impact makes Lia step back a few steps, but she nevertheless manages to catch you up and stabilize you both.

"What are you doing here? I thought you didn’t want to come?"

"I came to take you home" smiles Lia

"Already? But it's early baby" you complain in a childish tone. "Look, the sun is still there!"

You point over your heads with your finger, Lia following the direction with her eyes before laughing softly.

"That’s called a lamppost, my love."

"Oh."

You look at the lamppost with scepticism and a frown, triggering Leah’s laughter behind you. The blonde grabs Katie by the arm to train with her.

"Well, I’ll bring this one back to me. Cait and Laura want to stay a while longer."

"Do you need a lift?" Lia kindly offers.

Having assured her that everything will be fine for them, Leah and Katie disappear inside the establishment, no doubt to recover their belongings before going home. For your part, you remained hypnotized by the light of the lamppost and Lia must hold a small laugh before passing her arm around your waist to take you with her.

"What are you doing? I have a girlfriend at home, you know?"

"Oh, did you now?"

Lia laughs and shakes her head before getting you on the passenger side, taking care not to bump your head against the door. After she buckles you up, she goes around the car to sit behind the wheel.

"Yeah, and she’s not gonna be happy to know you touched me like that. She’s gonna make you pay" you keep rambling, much for your girlfriend's amusement.

"She must be pretty strong then"

Lia started the vehicle into traffic, deciding to take you at her home. She fears that if you go to your home, you spend an hour in front of the front door looking for your keys in the different pockets of your bag or jacket. Rightly so.

"She is" you smile. "She’s also incredibly beautiful. And sexy. She has a smile to die for and her eyes… are kind of like yours?"

The tone of your voice was slower and interrogative at the end of your sentence when your eyes cross Lia's. You blink several times looking at her before a big smile light your face.

"Lia baby!"

Lia laughs this time and gives you the bottle of water she put between your two seats.

"Drink instead of talking nonsense."

It takes you a few minutes to open the bottle of water and drink a little, but it has the advantage of keeping you busy while Lia brings you to your destination. Once again, Lia goes around the car to open your door, reaching out to help you get out. Her help is not too much this time, the negative effects of alcohol starting to be felt.

"Are you okay?" Lia asks, looking at you carefully

"I’m just a little dizzy" you mumble and concentrate on walking straight.

Lia nods and guides you sweetly to the front door and you find with pleasure the warmth of her home.

"Come on, to the bathroom and then to bed, young lady" said Lia, hanging your jackets next to the entrance.

"But I’m hungry" you wine as you grab the bottom of her sweater.

Lia, angel of patience, is content to smile while rolling her eyes. Taking you in the kitchen, she sits you on a kitchen element before rummaging in her cupboards to take out a pack of your favorite snacks.

"You’re the best girlfriend in the world" you smile cheerfully as you open the package.

"Yeah, sure" laughs softly the Swiss by taking out her phone.

You look suspiciously at her smile when she look at the screen before replying to the message she received.

"Who are you writing to?" you ask quietly.

"Leah, she just told me she went home" Lia answer before putting her phone back on her pocket. "What is it?" she asks when she sees your look.

"You're not cheating on me, are you?"

"Oh god Y/N, of course not" Lia sighs.

For the first time of the evening she looks really annoyed and you find yourself staring at the tip of your socks while chewing your snack. Your sudden silence seems to attract Lia's attention who approaches you and leans against your legs.

"What is it now?"

"Nothing" you mumble

"You're lying" she says, kissing your cheek.

"You snap at me" you pout lightly.

"I’m sorry. But you know how I feel about infidelity and all that comes with it. Besides, who would distract me as much as you do on a Saturday night?"

You smile softly as you look up at her, once again crossing her beautiful clear eyes. Now that your snack is over, Lia takes the empty paper to throw in the trash and take you to the bathroom. Sitting on the toilet, you let her patiently remove your makeup before you brush your teeth.

Lia takes advantage of you ending up in the bathroom to go put on her pajamas and bring you yours. When you’re done, you switch places and climb with some form of relief into her bed. Surrounded by her smell, you smile greatly while spreading in the middle of the bed.

The Swiss woman joins you a few minutes later, freshly washed and ready for the night. You don’t wait a second before putting yourself on the side, despite its calm appearance that could make think otherwise, it’s definitely Lia in the role of the big spoon in your couple. Even if you happen to switch, you enjoy feeling herarms around you to fall asleep.

"Thank you for coming for me" you mumble hardly, already half asleep.

"Of course" Lia replies, gently kissing your hair.

"Can we have sex?" you ask after a few minutes.

Lia laughs again, her laughter shaking you both slightly.

"Certainly not with you in this state Love. I don’t even know if you’ll remember anything tomorrow morning"

You give a grunt for any answer, before closing your eyes and deciding

"Tomorrow morning, then."

"Let’s do this" smiles Lia

New seconds pass, during which you play mechanically with Lia's fingers. Then you turn slightly so you can look at her.

"Can I at least have a good night kiss?"

"With pleasure my Love"

[gayassbish]

Genshin Siblings’ Reactions to Their Sister Having a Girlfriend!

Genre: Fluff, slight crack, (minor Angst in Jean and Barbara’s part)

Reader: Female*

Characters: Ayato & Thoma with Ayaka, Lyney & Freminet with Lynnett, Jean with Barbara, and Extra! Aether with Lumine

Ayato & Thoma-

On a typical evening when Ayato was finishing his daily quota and Thoma was doing his last rounds around the residence, Ayaka boldly enters in, hand in hand with you.

Ayato immediately takes notice, wondering ‘who tf is this bitc-‘ Kidding, he’s just like ‘who are you?’ in his head. And Thoma smirks, as if he already knows something.

The thing is, Ayaka decided to come out to Ayato when she would eventually have a girlfriend to introduce to him.

So when Ayaka asks if the four of you could have dinner together, with her new “friend,” Ayato instantly thinks something is up. His main suspicions are that you ran away from home with your raggedy looking- But he is worried you’re either homeless or in danger. Not really thinking Ayaka wants to introduce a friend, not even taking notice of the way Ayaka looks at you, and not noting your body language around her.

After introductions, the four of y’all are sat around the square table (Kotatsu). Thoma brings a cake with writing saying, ‘Yay! You’re Gay,’ in frosting but it slips pass Ayato as he doesn’t take his eyes off you two.

Once Thoma sits down, Ayaka clears her throat and breaks the big news. “Okay… big brother please don’t be mad. I know you wanted me to remain single for the rest of my life and be lonely till the ends of time-“

Ayato interrupts, not happy with the accusation that is thrown at him. “What? What nonsense why would I want you to be alone? They would just have to be a sensible guy-“

“Ugh! would you let me finish?” Ayaka rolls her eye and interrupts her big brother back. Thoma gives you a soft smile, mouthing the words ‘You better get used to this.’ “Anyways.. like I was saying. I found someone and they’re not a guy so-” Ayaka turns to look at you and Ayato’s jaw drops.

“You’re not homeless?” Ayato exclaims, shock and surprise written on his face. Evidently, the news for Ayaka and you together hasn’t hit him yet.

“Ayato!” Thoma and Ayaka yell simultaneously, while you laugh. Ayato almost looks embarrassed at his words, but you chime in before he can say anything else stupid.

“No, but I am your sisters girlfriend if you’re okay with that…” You look to Ayaka and give her hand a squeeze. She’s been pretty nervous about this whole meeting and stressing about how her overprotective brother would take it. Therefore she came out to Thoma before hand and asked if he would be willing to help break the news to him.

Ayaka and Thoma eagerly eat up Ayato’s reaction. “So.. you won’t be pregnant right?”Ayato nods to himself. And everyone but him deadpans. “Yea, I’m okay with this. Why wouldn’t I be?” He smiles at y’all and watches how his sister gleams.

Ayaka runs over the table to give her brother a hugeee hug. “Oh my god! Ugh I can’t believe I was scared to tell you!.” Ayato gives his sister a hug back and she sits back down.

“Wait.. Thoma?” Ayato looks to the blonde who’s already laughing. “Did you-?”

“Know? Yea… look at the cake I made buddy.” Thoma points to the clearly rainbow colored cake. “It’s a fruit cake. To celebrate this fruity day.” Thoma explains all excited and quite proud of his work.

“Well I see that now.. gosh.” Ayato mumbles and digs in. He slices different pieces for everyone.

The rest of dinner ends in laughter and more of Ayato’s dumb questions. Like “how do women fu-“Where did you guys meet,” and “Who confessed first,” as both Ayato and Thoma anxiously hear your story.

P.S. Ayato’s biggest fear is that Ayaka would get swept up by some dead beat guy and boom hed become an uncle one day, so he’s really happy you’re here to prevent that hypothetical nonsense.

Lyney & Freminet-

When Lynnett calls her brothers out for a cup of tea, they immediately think something must be wrong.

After all, Lynnett never plans meetings. She doesn’t have too since they all live in the same house.

So they conspire with one another for the reason for this meeting on the way to the cafe. And when they enter the building and see their shy Lynnett laughing and giggling, sat next to someone… Lyney’s first thought is, ‘who is this clone of Lynnett?’ And Freminent looks as if he’s lost his marbles. After all, everyone that Lynnett knows, the brothers already know… well almost everyone, until you stringed along.

They both know that their sister likes women. So you being a girl is no surprise. Mainly because Lynnett’s not the most discrete about her likings. If she likes something, they’ll find herself in her own world staring at the object of her desire or find herself obsessed with it, like tea. (Actually I think that’s just a bRiTisH thing.)

Anywho, neither of the siblings have EVER seen Lynnett like this and their eyes immediately trace to the cause of her giddy behavior. You.

Lyney hesitates a minute before asking,“Uhhh Lynnett?” Lynnett turns to look at her twin, who wears a nervous smile. Lyney swears he feels a shiver down his spine, still not fully convinced the girl, who looks like an identical copy of him, is his sister. “Who that?” He points to you, so shocked he forgot his manners.

“Lyney! Don’t be rude! This is Y/N.” She turns to you, “my girlfriend.” Freminent’s shock didn’t show on his face until now, and Lyney is still in confusion. “I called the two of you here to introduce you guys since Y/N will be around more often.” She takes a sip of her cup of tea, “But that was it, so you guys can leave now.” She smiles and was about to continue talking to you as Lyney and Freminent both immediately pull up a chair.

“Waiter, two cinnamon teas please!” Lyney gets the worker’s attentions and turns back to Lynnett, “Oh we are soo here to stay.” Freminent nods vigorously in agreement and Lynnett sighs.

“Exactly! You can’t just introduce her to us and not tells us anything!” Freminent exclaims, crossing his arms over his chest as he huffs.

Lynnett warned you that they might not take the news too well. It’s been the three of them for god knows how long, and she didn’t think they’d be ready to see her get onto the next phase in her life with you.

But you told her this meeting would be good for the both of you. She wouldn’t have to be so cautious with you around the city anymore and could finally get rid of the rope she used for you climb through her window and meet her. Plus it was about high time her siblings knew about the two of y’all together.

“They have a point Lynnett. How can they accept us if they barley know me?” You look at her and she frowns. She just didn’t want to put you through the trouble of her brothers eating at your head :(. “Please,” You ask her earnestly and she sighs.

“Fine. Out with it you two. What do you want to know?” Lynnett glares at them, communicating with her eyes to not ask anything rude. “You don’t have to answer anything you don’t want to.” She whispers to you and you squeeze her hand in reassurance.

“Oh me first!” Lynnett raises his hand to beat Freminent who slides back into his seat. “Why do you love my sister?” He analyzes you, preparing what he will say if you give him a bad answer.

“Well..” The brothers lean in to hear your answer. “What’s there not to love?” You say with a small chuckle. “But if I had to pick some of my favorite things about her it would have to be… how she looks at me… and how she tries to make sure I’m always okay in her own way. But I think the thing I love the most about her… is her independence.” You look to Lynnett who’s already blushing.

Freminent and Lyney look at eachother and it’s as if they come to an understanding that maybe you really are right for her. They usually aren’t so quick to trust someone at face value with some words, but they know. Lynnett has a wall around people and doesn’t let it down around just anyone. They trust that their sister is good at figuring out people’s good intentions from wrong, and if she’s opened her heart to you. Then they trust her. They trust her judgement of you.

“Well, I’ll admit thats not a bad answer.” Lyney rumbles, rubbing his neck, not so happy with his defeat.

“But I have one last question.” Freminent asks and the attention turns to boy who’s remained mostly quiet throughout this discussion. “It’s a really important one.” He looks to both Lyney and Lynnett, and it’s as if they both already know what he’s about to ask.

“Of course. Ask anything. I’m an open book.” You say with a calm smile.

Freminent takes a deep breath, “If you want to be a part of this family then… do you promise that no matter what you hear… or what you learn.. you’ll try to see things from our side?” All three of them look eagerly towards you.

Lynnett has told you seldom about her life outside of magic, but you know in your heart that no matter what, Lynnett will always be someone you cannot live without.

“We all have a story don’t we? …When you trust me enough to tell me yours, I know that no matter what I hear or see… I will wait for however long it takes to hear that story before coming to any sort of judgement.” You say softly, looking at them all and see the brothers tense figures lighten. When you turn back to Lynnett, her eyes tell you everything you need to know and how touched she is.

“Well shit.” Lyney says. “Welcome to the family.” He exclaims, and their drinks have arrived. The rest of the lunch continues with the exchanging of stories from embarrassing moments Lynnett’s had as a child to great epic moments of the high time in their careers. Though they don’t talk anymore about their past, you know when the time is right the occasion will come. :)

P.S. POV: You actually infiltrated their family to learn their magic tricks >:)

Jean-

When Jean patrols Mondstat’s forests for any lurking danger, she sees her sister sitting next to someone on dock of the lake. Their legs dangling and feet touching the water. She was about to walk up to say hi until she sees her sister kiss the person next to her.

Jean drops her sword and a loud thud startles both you and Barbara as the two of you turn around to look at the cause of the sound, only to find the shocked expression of the Acting Grand Master.

“Sister!” Barbara looks as if she’s seen a ghost and gets up to run to her.

“Wait Barbara your shoes-“ You get cut off by Jean running away and Barbra chasing after her.

You sigh, grabbing Barbara’s shoes and wearing yours, while following the shouting of the ladies. You even pick up Jean’s sword that she’s left on the floor.

You and Barbara haven’t been together for very long, but you’re both serious about each other. However, every time you would mention if it’s time to introduce each other to one another’s family, Barbara would avoid the topic. You later learned it was cause Barbara’s sister is extremely overprotective of her.

And it makes sense after all. Barbara has been known to have stalkers and crazy fans (IFHY ALBERT). You yourself know how naive Barbara can be at times and how she doesn’t really take the best care of herself. After all, most of the time you’re picking up after her.

You find the sisters deep into the forest. Barbara sitting down on a rock, her pale feet covered in mud and gunk. And Jean pacing back and forth with a hand messing up her pony tail.

“I can’t believe you went behind my back!” Jean shouts. “A girlfriend? Seriously Barbara? Do you think you’re mature enough to be in a relationship? Do you think that girl is trustworthy?” Jean turns to her sister.

“How dare you! Y/N is a great partner and we’re doing really good! And I’ve learned so much being with her than I have before!…Gosh I knew you were going to react like this so I hid it from you.” Barbara continues the shouting, but then starts to weep and Jean sighs. Jean hates it when her sister cries. And she hates it even more when she’s the one who makes her sister cry.

“Oh Barbara, please don’t cry-“ Jean kneels down, about to wipe her tears.

“Tell me, is it just a thing in your family to leave your stuff everywhere?” You interrupt, and the stark difference in their reactions almost makes you laugh.

Barbara exclaims your name and runs up to give you a hug, while Jean stands back up and crosses her arms over her chest. She wears a furrowed brow on her face to match the tense body language.

“You got mud all over you.” You tell Barbara softly and Barbara giggles. Once she lets go of the hug, you kneel down to clean her feet with a cloth. You put her shoes on her as well, and when you stand back up, you’re met with a distraught look on Jean’s face. “Here. Your sword.” When you walked to her to hand it back to her, Jean looks even more lost.

Jean, for the past years, has been the one taking care of her sister all the time. And though what you did just now might seem small, Jean didn’t even notice her sister was walking around barefoot. ‘What if Barbara got a thron stuck in her foot and her whole leg got infected?’ She beats herself up about not noticing sooner.

“Thank you,” Jean speaks very softly. Almost as if she’s trying to counteract for her shouting earlier.

“Don’t mention it,” You give her a genuine smile. You get where the older sister is coming from after all. “Now, how do we resolve this?” You look at both the sisters.

Barbara walks closer to where you and Jean stand. “Jean… I know I’m asking a lot from you to accept us given how bad I can be at judging people… but I swear. I swear on Barbatos that Y/N is a good person.” She looks at you and you smile. You can’t help yourself but to pat her head.

“Jean, I know how worried you must be. You’ve just seen your little sister being affectionate with some random stranger… but I promise you that this random stranger.. will take even better care of Barbara than you have over the years.” You make a challenge to yourself at Jean and she finally loosens up.

Jean exhales deeply. And shakes her head at how she jumped to conclusions about you.“I will take you up on that.” She looks at Barbara and then at you and noticed how she hasn’t really seen Barbara this happy and free in a while. Being stressed AF runs in the their family and she tells herself that maybe you’re good for her Barbara. And that maybe it’s time to let her sister experience the world for herself, without Jean’s watchful eye. “But.. I think we’re all do for a shower and a proper dinner after. I have many questions.” You and Barbara agree, sticky from the lake and the humid air as the three you guys walk back.

But this time instead of someone running away from another, someone shouting, and someone crying, you guys walk together. This marks the new beginning of getting to know each other and the rest of your lives.

P.S. Even if Jean ended up accidentally slaying your ass out of anger, C6 Barbara would’ve brought you back <3

A/N: I did a Barbara version where Jean introduces you as her girlfriend but I second guessed myself thinking that might be weird after I did the Jean version… (._.)

Aether-

Aether doesn’t believe his sister got a partner before he did. Questions his rizz. The end ;)

Kidding, he doesn’t even know his sister has a girlfriend because he hasn’t found her-

A/N: How do people write traveller?? What even is their personality, like are they pretty? Yes. Do they speak? No. What do you guys go off of?? [・_・?]

11/08/2023

[babybulbasaur920]

What Twisted Wonderland characters can say 🚬 the bad word for gay

(Inspired by Blake Jennings YouTube series)

Riddle: was probably taught to think it, cuz his mother gives me huge conservative vibes. Can theoretically say it, but you could not waterboard it out of him

Trey: I’m sorry, come for me if you must, but no. That hat is strictly for Reddit straight people. Like he most definitely has some “Live, Laugh, Love” sign in his room. Big ally though

Cater: can say it. Is the type to say it to your face and you think “did- did he just call me a slur?” And you realize five minutes later he’s bi

Ace: cannot say it. Not because he’s straight, because he used up his quota in middle school

Deuce: can definitely say it, but doesn’t because no one told him he could. Like Riddle, you could not waterboard it out of him

Leona: definitely can say it. Maybe. Gives me “normally straight but whatever happens after some drinks happens” vibes

Ruggie: look, I honestly am not a fan of him, but twink with a Everest level high voice. He can say it

Jack: eh, I’m on the fence

Azul: octopi are gay as hell. He can say it but won’t because this businessman is way to smart to alienate 94% of his classmates (victims)

Jade: eels can change between gender. He can say it. Doesn’t say it, because he’s a proper gentleman

Floyd: can say it. Doesn’t know it’s a slur, and laughs when you tell him. What, are you gonna stop him?

Kalim: no straight guy wears that much jewelry and is that obsessed with his “best friend” (Jamil, when I catch you😠). Can definitely say it. Doesn’t because Jamil told him it’s a bad word, doesn’t realize he is one of those for whom it is not a bad word

Jamil: girlboy swag. This bundle of pixels is like, right in the middle of the male and female gaze. Calling his classmates that word under his breath is how he gets through his day

Vil: yes. Without a doubt. But would he, is the better question

Rook: fuck yes. Like Vil, he wouldn’t say it, but it you pulled his hair and call him it, he may cream on the spot

Epel: can he say it? Debatable

Does he say it? Probably

Idia: sorry, have you read his ceremonial robe vignette? Boy is the general of the bisexual battalion, he can say it. For some reason it does sound really hateful coming from him though

Ortho: I plead the 5th regarding if this underage child can say it, lest I end up on Fox News. If he did, I feel it would be like if Hello Kitty said it. Like, would you really be mad? He’s bby

Malleus says it, but as it’s original definition as in, a bundle of sticks. He can say it in the gay way though. Bro gives new meaning to the word “dragon fruit”

Sebek also only knows it by the stick meaning but if he finds out it’s a slur, he would never say it again. I think he could, but he’d never tarnish his Waka-sama’s reputation like that

Silver, once again, knows it to mean a bundle of sticks. Something about him gives me asexual vibes, idk

Lilia, canonically bi and a discord kitten, he can say it. Thinks it’s funny to hear his kids say it, but would stop them if it became a problem

[miryum]

"Halloween"

Summary: Detective!Jason Todd x detective!Reader based on Jake and Amy's relationship

Series Warnings: Swearing, descriptions of violence (but nothing descriptive), guns and other police stuff

Series Masterlist

“I- I don’t like Halloween.” Tim manoeuvred around a packed, crazed precinct. “Especially in Gotham. So many people in weird costumes doing weird shit that we have to fix.”

“The holding cell’s completely full,” Jason called from where he was pushing a Raggedy Ann into the folds of costume. Raggedy Ann blew him a kiss and Jason stalked over to his desk opposite Y/n’s. “So many people have slipped me their phone numbers or thought I was a stripper.”

“Seems like you should follow your true calling then, Jaybird,” Y/n said. “You’d make an excellent stripper.” She winked dramatically at him and said, “I’d be first in line to see you.” 

Before Jason could cuss Y/n out, Steph said, “Seriously, we need to do something about the prisoners. We’ve already had to separate Kim Jong-Un and Hillary Clinton.”

Y/n was walking past the holding cell when she noticed a Hillary Cilton practically in the lap of a Kim Jong-Un, sucking his face off. “Hey! Hey!” She barged through the door and attempted to pull Hillary off. “Come on, now! What would Bill think? I mean,” she paused and muttered, “he kind of deserves it, but you could do so much better than Kim Jong-Un.”

“And… who are you supposed to be?” Jason squinted at Cass. 

“Dude, it’s kinda obvious.” Y/n said, “The entire precinct’s got a theme going on. It was decided in the group chat.”

Cass was dressed in an orange jumpsuit, a pillow shoved in for her stomach. She wore large, comical glasses that looked like she’d bought them for three dollars at a convenience store. Y/n, on the other hand, was in a yellow shirt with thick denim overalls, as were Tim, Steph, and Damian. Tim seemed disgruntled about it, while Damian sat reclined in his chair, taking it with pride. 

“Minions!” Dick called out loudly, silencing the precinct. He was in black jeans and a sweater. Around his neck, he wore an iconic scarf and a bald cap was thrown haphazardly over his hair. “Tonight, we steal… ze moon!” He threw his arms up and Y/n jumped up, cheering. 

“Ze moon! Ze moon!” Steph clapped along and Damian pumped his fist lazily. Tim just sighed and covered his face with his hands. “I was blackmailed into this,” he whispered.

“Oh my gosh, I work with idiots.” Jason sat back in his chair. 

“Attention,” Wayne strode into the bullpen. “I need two detectives to go undercover at a Halloween party where we suspect there will be a transition of drugs and illegal behaviour.”

“It’s like he was born on a thesaurus,” Y/n whispered. 

“Brown and Drake, you’re already in costume. I’m assigning you two to the case.” Tim groaned at his Captain's words, but nodded anyway. He couldn’t disobey his superior. 

“Drake,” Steph looped her arm through his, dragging him to the elevator. “I know you hate Halloween, even though it’s one of the greatest holidays, but I’ll make it the best.” 

“Can you make everyone kind, sober, and fully clothed? Tim asked desperately. 

“Kind, sober, and fully clothed!” Y/n shouted out. “Title of Jason’s sex tape!” 

Jason gawaffed. “I wasn’t even in this conversation!” 

Y/n exhaled and said, “Yeah, but I already tease Timmy-boy enough. He needs a break. However, I haven’t filled my quota for bugging you today.”

“I feel like your quota for teasing me is much higher than anyone else’s.” 

“Yes,” Y/n nodded. “Yes, it is.” 

“Listen up, dorks!” Y/n paraded into the bullpen, wearing a GCPD jacket over her costume. “I just arrested my first Halloween idiot! He was trying to rob a bank but had a… heh. Little bit of trouble getting away.” 

A man dressed in a large banana suit was stuck in the doorframe of the bank. Y/n couldn’t hold back her laughter as she tried to arrest him. “Trying to ‘split,’ huh? But I’m sure you’ll get out on ‘a peel.’ You have the ‘ripe’ to remain silent.” She snickered before saying, “I’m so glad you’re stuck! I’ve got a million of these! Wait, no, no! Don’t touch the money!”

“I swear, some of these perps are so stupid. I’d make a better criminal than any of them. And the best part is, none of you would be able to catch me!” 

Jason scoffed as Captain Wayne said, “That’s unrealistic. I’m one hundred percent sure you’d get caught.”

“Oh, ho, ho! Chall-enge accep-ted.” She sounded the words out slowly, placing her hands on her hips accusingly.

“I didn’t issue a challenge. There was no challenge. Where did you hear a challenge?” Wayne shrugged, his arms crossed.

Y/n hummed, thinking. “What’s the most valuable thing in your office?”

“My medal of valour,” Wayne replied instantly.

“Oh my god, you’re such a nerd. Fine. Okay. I bet that by midnight tonight, I can steal it from your office.”

“And why would I possibly agree to that?”

Y/n sang out, “because if I lose, I'll work the next five weekends, no overtime. And I won't tell anyone about the time I saw you wearing shorts outside of work. But if I win…” She rocked back on her heels, tapping her chin thoughtfully.

“You won't,” Wayne cut her off.

“You have to do all my paperwork tonight, the busiest and spoooookiest night of the year. Oh! And you must publicly state that I am an amazing detective-slash-genius.”

Wayne raised a brow, intrigued. ”And this won't interfere with you doing your job?”

“You mean my job as an amazing detective-slash-genius? No, it will not.”

Wayne hummed and his eyebrows lifted by half a centimetre. “I'm considering it... I'm interested. I agree to participate.” He held out a hand and Y/n giddily shook it.

“Hey, Damian? Dami? We don’t talk much anymore. How are you? Did you get a haircut? How’s Titus? What’s the Captain's schedule? I love you, bestie!”

Damian glanced up at her, unaffected. “I’m not going to assist you with your scheme. I am Captain Wayne’s assistant; a job I take incredibly seriously.”

“You’re literally making paper knives out of police reports.”

“How else am I to stab someone?”

“More like give them a harsh paper cut.” Y/n whined, “come on, Dami! Please, help me out here!”

His gaze was piercing. Quietly, he finally muttered, “he has a meeting downstairs in ten minutes.”

“I love you! I love you! Thank you so much!”

A while later, Captain Wayne was in his office and suddenly spoke to the air, “Are you in my ceiling, L/n?

There was a pregnant pause before a voice filtered through the vents. “No?”

Wayne seemed unimpressed. “So what's the plan? You wait for me to leave my office, lower yourself down, take my medal, and win the bet?”

“Die Hard meets Mission Impossible,” Y/n snickered before remembering her place and tutting, “who are you talking to? There's no one up here!”

“L/n, just so you know, right now, I am taking my medal off the wall and placing it in a locked safe whose combination is known only to me. The safe, in turn, is locked in the cabinet. The only key to that cabinet is on my person.” True to his words, Wayne did as he was saying. ”I'm off to my meeting. Good luck with your plan.”

Y/n cried out, “you think that scares me, fool? I laugh in the face of adversity!” She waited a moment before asking timidly, ”Are you still there? Captain, are you still there? I can't hear... Ack!” Suddenly, the ceiling fell from beneath her and in a crumble of dust and plaster, she collapsed on the floor. “Ow.”

“Oh, geez, what happened to you guys?” Jason asked Steph and Tim, the latter who was covered in runny eggs. Steph seemed to be unharmed. Dick stood up in surprise.

“We got egged,” Tim said flatly. “Some pieces of shell got in my contacts and my underwear.”

“Ooh, very hot,” Y/n snickered, swaying where she stood. Jason held a hand out to steady her. 

“I wish I was dead,” Tim grumbled.

“I’m doing great!” Steph squealed. “I’ve made four new friends. How’s the unwinnable bet going?”

“So little faith, Stephanie,” Y/n sighed. “On one hand, I fell through a ceiling. On the other hand, I think I bruised my brain.” She cupped her face in her hands, muttering nonsense about how brains look like loofahs.

“Look, Y/n,” Dick said carefully. “I love you like one of my daughters.”

“Aww, you do?” Y/n cooed.

“Yes, and I need to look out for you like them. You’re all irresponsible and need constant supervision. But this bet isn’t about you. It’s about Captain Wayne. That man is a genius. He’s had your number at every turn.”

“Well, not this day... Turn... time,” she stuttered. ”Sorry, I'm pretty sure I had a concussion back there! Jason, please catch me.” Jason leapt forward and cradled Y/n to his chest when she started falling backward. “Ooh, strong one,” she mumbled incoherently as he gently set her down in her chair.

“Damian.” Wayne walked up to his assistant and asked, “could you please decipher L/n’s handwriting? I believe the concussion is affecting her. She and Cain arrested a group of Royal Babies, but I’m unsure of what for.”

Damian took the paper and inspected it. “The Royal Babies were attempting to rob a small bakery. Being able to read Y/n’s handwriting is a gift. A useless gift, but still one nonetheless.”

“Pardon me, Damian.” Captain Wayne turned to a nearby janitor who was emptying Jason’s trash. “Nice costume, L/n.” 

The janitor cleared their throat and said in a deep, faux voice, “no L/n here. Just a random janitor pushing trash around.”

“L/n.”

Y/n spun around, a sheepish smile on her face. Jason hid a snicker as Y/n awkwardly said, “hey, Captain! What’s up?”

“You thought this was going to work?” Bruce hummed. 

“It did work!” Y/n scoffed. “This… was supposed to fail. It’s like chess. Sometimes, in order to win, you have to sacrifice your king.”

Jason’s eyebrows furrowed in confusion. “That’s how you lose chess. Have you ever played?”

“Uh, yeah!” she put a hand on her hip. “My Uncle Dave taught me!”

“Come on, lass! Even girls need to know how to shoot!”

“You’re slightly misogynistic, Uncle Davey, but I love you anyway!” A much younger Y/n propped up a handgun and carefully shot a number of chess pieces lined up on a faraway bench.

“Atta girl!”

“I expected better of you, L/n.” Captain Wayne shook his head. “You could’ve created a diversion to distract me from your terrible costume.”

“I had a diversion!” Y/n stomped her foot. “There was just a slight timing issue…” Just then, a nearby trash can lit up in a brilliant fire. “Whoops?” Y/n shrugged.

“Come on, Tim!” Steph threw her hands up in the midst of a party. “You look like such a cop! Have some fun, you know? It'll help you blend in!”

Tim stood stoically on the dance floor, not moving a muscle. “Stop trying to get me to love Halloween. It'll never work. Hey, heads up!” He noticed a man swap drugs for money with someone else. “I'll cut 'em off at the exit!”

Steph whirled around, instantly forgetting about the party. “Move! Move, move!”

The pair raced after the culprits and Tim cursed when he found the pack of drugs abandoned on the floor. “He ditched the drugs. I'm on it.” Tim shifted through partygoers and spilled drinks. “Ew… it’s sticking to me. Ugh! What is that? How is it hot and cold? Stephanie, help!”

“Hey, Cap-i-tan?” Y/n called from the bullpen. “Can you come out here for just one teeny weeny second?”

Bruce sighed and rubbed his temples, but did as his detective requested. “Do you need something, L/n?”

“Why yes, yes I do. Hit it, Royal Babies!” Y/n shouted out and at her command, all the Royal Babies marched into the bullpen. They began walking around randomly, swarming Captain Wayne, and throwing key chains around. Wayne just rolled his eyes and returned to his office. He found Y/n hunched over the cabinet drawer, attempting to copy Wayne’s keys. “Wha…. no!” Y/n groaned in frustration, slamming her fist down on the desk. “Ow…” She shook her hand out.

“Give me my keys, please.”

“Can you just stop catching me?” Y/n whined, “do you know how much I spent on key chains?”

“Probably around twenty-three dollars,” Captain Wayne said instantly. 

“That is unbelievably close and scary,” Y/n admitted. “Twenty-two dollars and seventy six cents.”

“Keys,” Wayne demanded.

“Okay, okay, look.” Y/n stood up, an embarrassed smile plastered on her face. “Tonight has been a tiny bit humiliating. Things aren’t going well, so what do you say we call off this silly little bet and pretend this whole thing never happened?”

“Oh, no no no,” Wayne let out an unusual chuckle. “I’m not letting you off the hook.” 

“What? Pffft. No… I’m giving you an out so you can save face.”

Wayne shook his head. “This is getting sad.” 

Y/n scoffed and tossed him his keys, sauntering out the door. “Uh, yeah. For you.”

“Captain,” Tim knocked on Wayne’s opened door. “Sorry to interrupt, but, uh, some officers just arrested L/n.

Bruce blinked. “What?”

“They caught her scaling the side of the building with a blowtorch.” Tim shook his head, still not understanding how Y/n managed to find a blowtorch and climb the building in the first place. Wayne just sighed in response. 

In the interrogation room, Wayne found Y/n handcuffed to the table. Knowing her, she had probably asked for the handcuffs.

“Welcome to the endgame.” Y/n tried to spread her hands ominously, but the handcuffs harshly pulled her back. “Ohh, that hurt. Forgot I was wearing those.”

“What the hell were you thinking, L/n?” Wayne shook his head, sitting down opposite Y/n.

Y/n inhaled through her teeth, trying to look ashamed. “I was thinking I had better core strength. I got winded, like, ten feet up.”

“I have to admit,” Wayne said. “I expected better of you. You have five minutes until your deadline, and yet, here you are, handcuffed to a table, in a locked room.”

“Which is precisely where I planned on being.” Y/n smiled sinisterly. “You remember when I pretended to be Herman, the janitor?”

“Yes, it was mere hours ago. And I caught you as Herman.”

Y/n wagged her finger. “But you didn't catch Cass! As it turns out, she’s great at picking locks!”

Cass crouched by Captain Wayne’s desk, carefully and quickly picking the lock as Y/n distracted him.

“Of course, I needed a way to get her out of your office without you noticing. Y/n explained, “so I created a diversion. Not a mistimed one… a perfectly timed one so Cass could escape.”

A fire burned in the trash can that caught Captain Wayne’s attention. Cass somersaulted out of his office.

“But you needed a way into the safe,” Wayne reminded her.

“And I got it. You were so concerned with getting your keys back, you didn't even notice the sergeant stealing your phone. That's right, even Dick is on my side! Then, Jason dusted your screen cover for prints. The greasiest smudges revealed the four numbers you use the most…” Y/n leaned back in her chair. “Based on your advanced age, I assumed that you use the same passcode for everything.”

Wayne conceded, “that would be a fair assumption.”

“It was at that point that I made fun of Jason for reading some sappy romance book.”

Wayne raised a brow. “And how is that a part of your masterplan?”

Y/n shrugged. “It wasn't. It just ruled. And that brings us to five minutes ago, when Tim barged into your office and told you I’d been arrested. I knew he’s the only one you’d believe because, frankly, he’s too lame to partake in these things.” Y/n grinned sharply and continued, “And as you walked over here, Stephanie crawled into the ceiling, using the hole I so cleverly left behind to enter your office. We had the four numbers for your code, which meant there were twenty-four possible combinations for Steph to try. That would take up to four minutes, which is why I really dragged out this explanation.” Wayne shook his head in disbelief and sat back in his chair. Y/n chuckled and kept rambling, “I mean, really stretched it. I don't know if you noticed, but there were times where I was like, what am I even talking about? I could make a career out of this! Professional monologuer.” The beeping of a timer interrupted her. “Oh! But now, four minutes is up. Which means Stephanie is either on the other side of that door holding your medal, or I've lost.” She pointed towards the interrogation door and simply smiled.

Captain Wayne stared at her a moment longer with a look somewhere in between wonder and frustration. Slowly, he stood up and opened the door. Stephanie proudly grinned from the opposite side, holding up his medal of valour. “Just one question,” Wayne started, not bothering to sit back down. “How’d you convince them to help you?”

Y/n chortled. “You think so little of me. Of course, I appealed to their sense of teamwork and camaraderie with a rousing speech that would have Shakespeare begging for my talent.”

Y/n stood atop a chair in the middle of the bullpen and announced in a terrible Scottish accent, “For too long, we thee have been ridiculed, pushed around, and put down. But I say no more! For today, thee shall defeat the mad king and win our thine country back!”

“How did you actually do it?” Bruce gave Y/n a knowing glare.

“Unfortunately, my speech did not work.” Y/n sighed and continued speaking as if she hadn’t heard the Captain. “The sixty-sixth precinct has no sense of honour and solidarity. Maybe we should start doing team-building activities… Anyway, I bribed them. Told them I would do their paperwork.” She gave her superior a shit-eating grin. “And cause you’re doing my paperwork,” she sang, letting him come to the same conclusion.

Wayne huffed a laugh. “Well played L/n. Well played.” 

He slowly exited the room, leaving Y/n to cry out, “Captain? Hey, Captain? Are you gonna unlock me?” She rattled the handcuffs. “Captain?!” Eventually, Jason came in to help her (not before taking many pictures).

Later that night, Wayne gathered everyone in the briefing room and swallowed his pride. “Y/n L/n is an amazing detective-slash-genius.” Y/n mouthed along to the words. “And if you’ll excuse me, I have some paperwork to do.”

Captain Wayne sat in his office, surrounded by paperwork. However, instead of beginning, he opened a pad of paper and wrote: Halloween 2

[dragonanon]

Y’all I need Jesus 😭 My mind is running wild with an idea that’s a bit of Hellaverse and One Piece crossover.

——

As a succubus working under Asmodeus, your job is to basically portal up to the human world and spread lust amongst the humans. You’re damn good at your job as evidenced by the fact that your numbers always exceed the minimum quota you’re given, so as one of the top employees you have the privilege of getting to be much closer with Asmodeus and Fizzaroli than most other demons working for them; they’re honestly more like father figures to you rather than your superiors, and you welcome being their lowkey unofficially adopted daughter.

Between your excellent work performance and the love and support of your unofficial dads, life is pretty damn easy and straightforward for you…until it isn’t.

You don’t know how the hell it happened, you had been in human disguise on Earth and drumming up some nice lust in a small village, literally just doing you job as normal. Your markvictim, a slim blond with facial hair, had been one of the EASIEST people to ensnare in a long time. You barely had to say “hello” before the man already had hearts in his eyes and was practically falling at your feet, and when you invited him to go someplace private for a bit of “fun”, he damn near died on the spot due to blood loss from a massive nosebleed. Needless to say, you quickly had him in bed and oozing with yummy lust for you.

From there it all happened so fast(let’s be real here, it was probably Luffy’s fault lol), one thing led to another and after a series of shenanigans, your true form and identity are revealed to a group of humans, a group of pirates to be exact…Sure you knew that taking such an easy target would have SOME consequence, but fuck man!

Now standing before the “straw hat pirates”, as they call themselves, in your true demonic form with horns, wings, and tail all out for the whole world to see, you’re stared at in a cocktail mixture of awe, fear, and curiosity by all these humans. With the uncomfortable silence hanging in the air, you feel more naked and vulnerable than you ever have been in your entire life. And as a succubus, that’s saying quite a lot!

You’re in quite the predicament here, and your fear only grows as you realize just how completely and utterly fucked you are here. You can’t just fuck off back to Hell when there’s a whole gaggle of humans running around that now knows about the existence of Demons and Hell, but you can’t exactly kill any of them either. Not just because you’re SEVERELY outnumbered, but you’d ALSO get into some pretty deep shit with your dads.

So that leaves you with one option, offer a deal and hope to Lucifer that they accept. With that plan in mind, a green haired man you’d later come to know as “Zoro”, FINALLY breaks the agonizing silence with a simple question; “What the fuck are you?” and with that, you get to work setting this admittedly ridiculous plan into motion.

As calmly as you can, you explain that you’re a succubus; a demon from Hell just here to do her job of getting people to be horny on main. From there, you explain the predicament you’re all in right now, how you can’t just leave them to their devices because they all know, and have seen too much now. They all seem to tense for a moment as one of them, a man with a long nose who you’d later know as “Usopp”, asks in a shaky voice if you’re going to kill them now. They all breathe a sigh of relief and Usopp actually sobs when you clarify that no, that’s not happening. “I couldn’t kill you all even if I wanted to. Not only do you have me completely outnumbered, but even if I did succeed somehow, it would land me in MAJOR hot water with my bosses. So yeah, I’m not doing that.”

A red headed woman who later introduced herself as “Nami”, responds by asking what it is you plan to do then. This whole time, you’ve noticed that she’s been eyeing the hell out of your Asmodean crystal; a huge magenta jewel set in the center of a beautiful golden cuff that encases nearly half of your left forearm. It was a gift from Asmodeus himself on your first day of work, and it hasn’t left your arm since. You know damn well what the glint of greed in one’s eyes looks like, and you’re all too happy to use that to your advantage.

“Well, given that I can’t leave you all alone and death isn’t an option, I’d like to make a proposal; You all keep your mouths shut about what you’ve seen and learned, and let me continue my work as needed and in peace. You’re not to utter even a peep to another soul not already in this room. In exchange…You’ll have a succubus eternally at your service~”

This prompts the captain who you’ve been told is named “Luffy”, an admittedly boyishly cute man in your humble opinion, to speak up and ask what exactly you mean. Up to this point, he’d just been staring at you in slack jawed awe, but your proposal seemed to bring him back to reality and now he had to sate his growing curiosity and excitement.

A playful smirk paints itself on your black lips as you begin to elaborate, your fangs poking out ever so slightly as you speak. “Well hon, being a succubus, I have MANY powers at my disposal~ You’ve already seen that I can disguise myself as one of you humans, AND charm my way into getting whatever I want from humans. But that’s BARELY scratching the surface of what I’m capable of~ For starters, I can change my disguise as I see fit, what you all saw was just one of the millions of different appearances I can take.” To back up this claim, you quickly cycle through a few different human disguises you’ve used throughout the years; completely changing your form into at least 12 completely different women of all different shapes, sizes, and races. With your point having been made, you shift back to your Demon form and continue.

“That combined with my charming powers means I can EASILY spy and obtain any information you want~ But more than that, I can INSTANTLY take you anywhere you could possibly want.”

That last bit seemed to really pique everyone’s interest, especially Luffy’s; his eyes sparkled with curiosity and excitement as he asked you how that was possible.

“Time to make the hard sale here.” You think to yourself. With a smile, you raise your left arm and with a flourish of your right hand, show off your Asmodean crystal. You have to bite back a laugh as Luffy audibly “oohs” and “ahhs” at the glowing magenta stone while Nami practically salivates over it.

“With this lovely thing right here~ This bad boy is an Asmodean crystal; a mystical jewel bestowed upon me as a succubus working for Asmodeus. With it, I can open a direct portal to ANYWHERE in Hell AND the Human world~”

Zoro is quick to call bullshit, but you’re more than willing to prove otherwise as you respond by asking for a destination, anywhere in the entire world. The green haired man huffs in amusement, and sarcastically suggests an island clear on the other side of the world.

Smirking, you hold your crystal clad arm up close you and with quick, firm, rub of your right hand, the crystal glows brightly and suddenly shoots out a bright beam of light that stops just shy of hitting the wall before a large, diamond shaped portal appears. The edges of the portal glow brightly and the aforementioned island is now CLEARLY visible to everyone in the room.

With a shit eating grin, you strut up to Zoro, who seems bewildered by what he’s seeing as gets up close to check out the portal. With a giggle, you give him a hearty shove, causing him to fall through with a shout and you hop through after him, completely ignoring the concerned shouts of the remaining crew as the portal snaps shut behind you, blinking out of existence like it was never there to begin with.

The room devolves into chaos, with Luffy whining about how it’s not fair that he didn’t get to go too, while Nami yells at him for not being more concerned about Zoro just disappearing.

After a few minutes, the portal reappears with a flash, and out of it hops you followed closely by a noticeably paler Zoro, much to Sanji’s disappointment. The portal disappears again whilst Zoro goes to sit down, and just says “She’s not fucking joking, she really CAN go anywhere.”

The room erupts into chaos again, this time however, Luffy is practically on top of you, demanding you join his crew right now.

You’re a bit taken aback, you’d expected you’d have to list at least a LITTLE more of what you’re capable of to win them over, but this was not an unwelcome surprise in the slightest.

“Are you sure you’re willing to accept my proposition so quickly? I haven’t even finished telling you what all I can-“

Luffy interrupts you before you can finish your sentence saying that there’d be plenty of time for you to talk about your powers later, right now he just wants to start teleporting to different places.

You smile, fangs on full display. “Guess it’s a deal then~ It’ll be a pleasure working with y-“

You’re cut off again, this time by Luffy stretching his limbs around you in a tight hug whilst rambling about all the different places he wants to go right now.

As you’re stood in the middle of everyone buzzing with excitement and curiosity, all you can think to yourself is “What in the Seven Rings have I gotten myself into??”

[nervousd]

Chapter Three— Unexpected visitors

→ Infatuation | m.list

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#SYNOPSIS— The dead come back to visit

#WARNING(S)— This is a dark fic, implications of abandonment, implications of being a bad mother, child abandonment, implications of discrimination, implications of physical abuse, yandere, unhealthy obsession, possessive, prey/hunter dynamics, scent kink, creepy behavior, throat usage?/does that even make sense?, forced kissing, noncon kissing???)) quaritch goes feral, unwanted touching

#CHARACTER(S)— Recom! colonel Miles Quaritch

#NOTE— so I lied— the good stuff will definitely be on the next chapter. I’m also planning to make a Drabble to make up for it

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Quaritch extended out his palm towards the diagram ❝ The target is pretty much this whole island group— ❞ he was cut of by Spider ducking beneath his large frame, he glanced down at his son smiling briefly, ❝— Never been up there, you know those waters doc. What kind of indigenous we got? ❞ Scoresby gestured towards the man on the opposite side of the diagram. The doc was startled out of his own thinking, hesitating briefly as he glanced at the blue Recom looking at him with piercing yellow eyes ❝ Well— uh we got metkayina mostly some Ta’unui maybe fifty villages— ❞

Having enough of his rambiling, Quaritch cut off him with a puzzled face, ❝ uh you are who?❞ he didn’t need to know what specific species of na’vi there was— all he needed to know where was the nearest village nearby to get stated on his mission ❝ Oh I’m uh Doctor Ian Garvin, a marine biologist ❞ he extended out his palm for a handshake but was ultimately ignored by Quaritch, he dropped down his hand in embarrassment, ❝ Fifty villages— a hundred villages. I don’t care we’ll search them all ❞ Scoresby scoffed, and snapped back with an obnoxious tone ❝ I hunt Tulkun, that’s what I’m rigged for that’s all my guys do. I’ve got quotas to meet ❞

A rotten wry smile split Quaritch face, he showed a smile with far too many teeth— teeth to sharp his lips curled up. He looked like a happy predator with upturned lips, ❝ I’ll be nice once than I won’t ❞ Behind him, Lyle lifted his respiratory mask taking a sip of carbon. His yellow eyes gleamed, as he watched the interaction between the two of them. Scoresby pursed his lips, not expecting to be threatened in his own ship, ❝ Oh if you can’t get out of it, get into it. All crew to stations! ❞

—

It was difficult being an outsider among the na’vi, unable to fully understand the ways of being‘ One of the people ‘ as they say. But they were welcoming to say the least— a bit skittish but nothing you can do about it. Had it not been for Jake sully— Toruk Makto as they call him; you would have never been accepted into the Ta’unui clan. You weren’t ‘ one of the people ‘ your simply coexisting with them. It was difficult at first, finding yourself frustrated with them— and yourself. It was a horrible decision to leave the forest but if you didn’t then you would be stuck with him— burden by the responsibility of being a mother. So you packed your things and left—

Gone the next day leaving no trace behind but a few personal belongings. It was heartless— to abandon a child but you couldn’t bare to look at it. Finding bile crawling up your throat whenever you ever so glanced at it. But that was years ago and you can only find yourself wanting to learn about their life now— only a little. You come up with your own conclusions, that’s he’s fine— doing much better now that you were gone. Has a happy family that gives him all the affection and care he needs— anything to lesson the guilt of abandoning him.

You were startled out of your thoughts as a blue hand appeared in your vision. You jumped like a feral cat, whisking around as your eyes caught culprit of a sheepish male na’vi. ❝Jesus Christ— must you always do this to me? ❞ The male na’vi blinked, cocking his head to the side as he stared at you with wide eyes, ❝ I do not understand this sky people talk— what is this Jesus Christ? ❞ You shook your head, waving your hand in dismissal ❝ Dont worry about it— Sky people nonsense and all that. Your English has gotten good ❞ at your compliment, the male puffed up his chest in pride. You scoff at his flared ego— ever since you’ve been here this male na’vi was always by your side, claiming he was curious about the sky people.

He’s become your student— only for a short while. You’ve been teaching him English for quite some and was surprised to see him learn the language very quick. It brought a sense of peace towards you— familiarity. It’s as if you were back in the past with Grace helping her at the school. A wave of nostalgia hit you, often times you missed the moments you had with everyone. You smiled briefly, the past would always sneak upon you leaving nothing but a longing to see everyone. But you had made your bed— choosing to leave and abandon everyone. Now you must lay in your choices. ❝ You are friends with Toruk Makto, no? ❞

Confused by the sudden interest in an old friend, you nodded, ❝ Yeah— Jake sully, what’s the sudden interest in him? ❞ he hesitated briefly, ❝ He is residing in a metkayina clan— not far from here— there has been talk of war following him ❝ Your lips pursed in response, brows furrowing. ❝ That is odd— not something he would do. Who knows maybe he just wanted a vacation? ❞ He looked at you with wide eyes, ❝ You are certain of this? ❞ You hesitated briefly, you weren’t— Jake would of never fled the Omaticaya— especially Neytiri, seeing as how she loved her home and would even die for her people. This wasn’t something they would do— not unless they were running from something— or someone.

But no one could posses such a threat that would cause Jake to flee— and if they did, we’ll they were dead. But you couldn’t cause panic— ❝ I’m sure, who knows maybe it’s for diplomat reasons ❞ He seemed satisfied with your answer and bided you goodbye. You were back to being alone— busying yourself to your own devices. But worry seemed to overshadow your thoughts— worming their way inside your mind. If Jake was here than what of the boy you gave birth to? Jake didn’t adopt him— no the boy had foster parents that took care of him along with other human children that were left behind. But Jake promised— he promised to watch over him. Did Jake bring him here to the ocean clans? Or did he leave him back at the Omaticaya?

Worry gnawed at your gut— you couldn’t bare to risk seeing the boy. Your stomach churned in disgust— you were cut off by a horn being blasted through the air— your stomach dropped. Through the years residing in the clan not once has the horn been used. Distant cries were heard thought the beach and a loud rumbling sound swallowed their petrified cries. You scrambled towards the noise, terror sticking at your nerves as a large ship came into view, ❝ Oh fuck— fuck! ❞ you scrambled backwards running towards your small hut. You gathered your necessity items, shoving the basic necessities in a small bag.

None of this made sense— they shouldn’t be here, not once had they come near the islands. They were often seen out in the open waters hunting tulkun. This was different— had they come here to threaten or kill the na’vi residing in this island? Peace was not on the table so the like hold of the other two options happening were possible. You flinched at the loud cries coming from the na’vi and the curses of your mother tongue being shouted out. If they caught you— there was no doubt you might be publicly executed for betraying your race.

And so you hid— lost in the wildlife of Pandora you seeked shelter behind a trunk covered by bushes. Your breaths came out labored, you peeked from a small opening seeing the na’vi being rounded up on the clearing. You leaned forward trying to get a better view unaware of the footsteps behind you. You let out a scream as a hand tugged you up from your hiding place. You struggled immediately, clawing at the hands that held onto you— ❝ Stay still—! I got a traitor here! ❞ your attacker dragged you towards the clearing, gun pressing against your back.

You tripped over your own feet a couple of times as you were dragged to the clearing. Countless of na’vi were forced to kneel onto the sand with guns and tasers threatening to cause harm. There were avatars among them humans, dressed in full camo gear with weapons strapped towards their vest. The color drained from your face as you made eye contact with piercing yellow eyes, ❝ What the actual fuck— ❞ you were starting to panic, kicking your feet and acting like a mad woman— you were unsure of what to do but your brain screamed at you to run.

In front of you was the man you once thought was dead— no you were certain he was dead. His skeleton was out in the forest decomposing on itself. Yet, here he was, breathing and certainly alive. He was back from the dead and this time he came back blue. Beside him was a human boy wearing na’vi clothes, he was covered in blue stripes. A flicker of recognition sparkled in your eyes— your breath hitched at your throat, ❝no— no! ❞ you shook your head refusing to accept the truth. A newfound strength courses through your body.

You elbowed the guy on the ribs making a run for it, ❝ Don’t shoot! I need her alive! ❞ a familiar voice ran along the clearing— it was him. Colonel Miles Quaritch was back from the dead and came back bigger, stronger and faster in the body of a na’vi—a species he hated with a passion. But how was that even possible? You wouldn’t stay to find out— you had to leave— to hide

❝ Get back here! ❞ He roared out, the sheer volume and grit of his voice caused the ends of your hairs to stand up. He launched himself to your pursuit, screaming out in rage. He was hot on your tail, commanding you stop running but it only caused you to pump your legs faster. Soon enough you heard him right behind you— you glanced back a mistake you realized as he ran at you in a primal way. Hands and feet— claws out for a grip against the terrain he pounced on you. ❝C’mere! ❞ You ducked out the way, barley missing his grasp but not without paying the price of your shirt being torn by his claws. You slammed yourself against a trunk barley missing his claws. You scrambled back to your feet leaving him in the dust.

❝ Stop running! ❞ he screamed out, ❝ you’re suppose to be with me— You’re mine— mine! ❞ Sharp canines gritted against each other and bared into a sneer, his brows were furrowed and yellow eyes were wide like saucers— he looked insane as if he submitted himself to his primal instincts. He was fixated on getting you; even going as far as his abandoning his gun— anything that slowed him down. A shaky sigh left his lips as he gripped the garment of your torn blouse— he inhaled deeply pressing it against his nose. He swears he could taste your scent on his tongue. It’s yours— and you’re here with him.

He exhaled shaky, pocketing the torn piece of clothing inside his pocket. He glanced back up finding you no where in his sight. His ears flattened against his skull, tail laying limp, ❝Don’t be mean now honey— ❞ his voice drawled out, the smirk wiping off his face seeing as there was no indication to where you could possibly be. He scouted out the area in a frenzy coming to a halt as a thud behind him makes him turn around in a swift. He rushes over to the sound pushing away the wildlife , ❝ Gotcha! ❞ his excitement died down when all he found was a small animal cowering in fear. He let out a hiss of frustration, tail whipping around as his anxiety clawed at him.

Panic rose as he searched every creek he could find— which way did you go? His frustration bubbled in his chest, ❝ If you don’t come out right now I swear I’ll paint that ass red and blue! ❞ He looked left and right, running in circles looking for any sign or indication to where you could possibly be. Meanwhile, you had ran as far as you could ending up near your shack. You stoped to catch your breath, heart beating against your chest in an erratic way. You bended over placing your hand on your knees— you had lost him for now. But what can you do before he catches up to you again? For how long can you evade his grasp? Leaving the island would be impossible. This was a hopeless scenario for you— there was no way to flee and running was the only option. You could hide in your shack but wouldn’t that be the first place they would check?

You couldn’t give up now, standing straight you began to plot your next move. Hiding was a no go— you need small places somewhere a na’vi can’t fit in. You could hear the distant scream of your name out in the woods, your head whipped to the sound. Tripping over your own steps you decided to push more distance away from him. You knew exactly where to go— you’ve known this island for years. He doesn’t, all that matters is making sure he doesn’t catch up to you before you get there. Soon enough you heard a branch break beside you— you don’t have time to register the force that impacted you.

You feel like you’re flying through the air— unable to grasp what’s going on. He’s grabbing you and wrestling you beneath him— a coarse laugh came from him, his canines glistened from the copious amount of times of running his tongue over them— unable to swallow his exceeding amount of saliva. His tail thumped behind him in excitement, ❝ I got you, sweetheart— you’re mine now ❞ his chuckles were hoarse, shoulders shaking as deep rumbles came within his chest.

He pressed his nose against the juncture of your nape, curling himself to your size. You froze— did he just sniff you? He’s panting, whole body trembling. ❝ You done teasing me? You and I have some unfinished business to get to. How about we finish that family that we started? Give the brat a couple of siblings while you and I get to be acquainted once again ❞ You shook your head frantically, the thought of having another child with him disgust you. Tears slid down your cheeks freely, you wanted to scream and cry out. This was a nightmare come to life. You let out a squeal as you felt his palm reach down and grabbed a handful of your ass, groping and squeezing the flesh. He rained down numerous kisses on your neck, nipping and lapping at your flesh. You were frozen in place— He was terrifying, and too fucking big. His whole body encased yours. Quaritch looked at you, pupils blown wide—. Your attempts to trash away from his grip was useless against his strength and size. He was overwhelming— you could only see and feel him. Both of his massive biceps were placed beside you, lowering his chest towards back.

Back when he was human he always towered over you but now as a na’vi? He was huge— it was like you were his own personal human doll. You could hear shuffling behind you— you were manhandled as if you were nothing but cargo. You were face to face with him. His biceps kept you locked in his embrace, lowering himself towards you. He was starved for you— relishing every touch he could get from you. You however— we’re frightened and did everything possible to get away from his embrace. You wiggled and kicked helplessly under his strong grip— his arms tightened around you like a snake coiling around it’s prey. It only just hit how strong and big his was.

He hugged you even closer— if it was even possible to do so. Pressing your body against his, he let out a deep low moan making you let out a squeak as you felt his canines drag across your flesh. He leaned down again— seeing his face dip towards yours; you turned your face to the side avoiding his lips from touching yours. His lips skimmed over your cheeks— a low animalistic snarl escaped from him. His fingers dug into your jaws and wrenched your face to look back at him. ❝ You will not take this from me, girl— I have waited so long to have you ❞

His lips pressed against yours in a messy kiss, he pressed his tongue against your mouth. Claws prodding your jaw to open up as he swallowed your mouth whole. Tears streamed down your cheeks— He doesn’t get to have you— you weren’t his. You wish you could tell him this but all you can squeak out are muffled sobs. Quaritch was overjoyed— a sense of peace came flowing to him. You were back in his arms, exactly where he wanted you. Nothing can stop him now— not even the order he was given from his predecessor— you were meant to be his— human or na’vi doesn’t matter.

Your attempts to break away from the kiss were futile against his overwhelming strength. He deepened the kiss, tongue lashing at ever crook and crane he could find. Tears pricked the corner of your eyes as you felt his tongue slither down your throat. Your fist slammed against his chest seeing black dots prick at the corner of your vision. Feeling you go limp in his arms caused him to draw back from your mouth. His hold on you however remained— a string of saliva connected both of your lips. Face running red, you stared at him unable to fully wrap your head on just what happened

He stared back down at you, completely unfazed. As if this was the most natural thing to do ❝ What? Cat got your tongue, hmm Princess? ❞ , you shook your head to the side a couple of times; mumbling out incoherent words. His ears however managed to hear you every well, ❝ You’re not him— how are you even alive? You died— ❞ you babbled out— pawing against his chest pathetically, pushing and slapping with your weak strength. A mistake you were quick to realize as he slammed you back to the ground caging you in his arms, ❝ Just relax, princes I’ll explain it to ya— you see I’m a clone of that old man. He’s deceased— he was weak ❞ he hissed, ❝ I’m better— I’m stronger and I am going to take what is rightfully mine; starting with you ❞

Small wheezes came from you, you looked at him as if he was absurd ❝ I don’t belong to you— ❞ his fingers curled around your throat ❝ Watch it— clearly you’re attitude has been left unchecked for quite a long time. Don’t worry sweetheart, daddy will fix that ❞ His palm pressed against your back bringing you upwards to him, he coaxed you to his lap; tail wrapping around your arm. His palms groped your flesh, touching every place he could. His hands fiddled with your blouse, scrunching up the piece of fabric you called blouse tearing it off. You’re breast bounced from the impact— you curled inward to protect your modesty. His fingers itched to grab hold of your breast— lips curling up at your refusal. However, a static voice coming from his earpiece caused him to pause his actions. You couldnt catch what they were saying but you doubted it was anything good. His yellow eyes gleamed, ❝ Let’s get you back home— where you belong ❞

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━━━ : © NERVOUS.D

[maldaptivedreamer]

From Afar P. 7

With your heart aching and your ego is bruised, can you bring yourself to forgive him? Will you give him the chance to fix what he broke?… Is he worth a second chance?

content: Errors and mistakes, not entirely accurate to alien universe, angst with happy ending, name calling (asshole, darling, etc.)

wc: ~2.9

a/n: I'm not sure about how I feel about the ending, but I did try to make it happy. Didn't wanna draw things out too much, but not sure if it landed. Feels kinda rushed. Anyway, thanks for reading!

Masterlist     

Work had been a shitshow. The lack of sleep was starting to take its toll on your body, and the constant ache in your muscles only worsened throughout the day.

You accidentally dropped your drill, and the loud clanging noise reverberated through the stuffy tunnel. Normally, everyone kept to themselves and ignored the sounds of their coworkers, focused on meeting their quota by the end of their shift. But this time, all eyes were on you. A nearby worker shouted over the deafening noises, “Damn, I feel sorry for that bastard.”

Finishing your shift and returning your drill, you couldn't help but agree with their sentiment. The attendant quickly noticed the damaged drill and tsked disapprovingly before adding more time to your work contract as compensation for the damage.

Ultimately, your shift ended with more time owed than less.

As you near your front door, all you can think about is a long shower and crawling into bed.

Lost in thought, you almost miss the figure sitting on your doorstep until you're only a few doors away. Gnawing on your lip, you sigh and begin to mentally prepare yourself.

Schooling your face into an expression of dry neutrality, you apprehensively approach the door. The figure stands up and brushes himself off, his voice shaking with fake enthusiasm, “Hey, haven’t seen you in a while.”

Bjorn looks almost exactly the same as he did the last time you saw him. Almost.

But you know him better than that. Have come to know him more intimately than, dare you say, anyone else ever had.

His stress is evident in the creases on his clothes, the headband he wears with little concern for its placement, and the fidgety movements of his hands as he twists his ring or wipes them on his jeans. It's also visible in the darker shade of pink on his bottom lip from constant biting.

He stands in front of your door, silently pleading for entry. You say nothing, and he swallows hard at your silence.

With a nod and a downward glance, he shuffles his feet in the dirt and speaks, “You, uh… You changed the code to your door, and I wasn’t really able to catch you…” His voice trails off and you simply watch him.

His chest puffs with a deep, audible breath, “Guess you’ve just been busy… I guess. Would you… may I come in?”

Silently, you gesture towards your door, and he quickly moves aside. Your body shields the keypad as you enter the code and unlock the door. Turning to face him, you tilt your head up to meet his gaze.

Finally speaking, you utter out a simple, “No.” You watch as the hope in his eyes is quickly replaced by desperation.

His voice is rushed as you move to shut the door, “Please! Please… I just want to talk. I want to… to apologize. To say I’m sorry.”

Your neutral expression drops into a frown as you respond with an unforgiving tone, “You just did, why should I let you in? … I’m tired and I’ve had a shit day at work. I’m really, really not in the mood, nor do I have the energy to have this conversation.”

Bjorn forces his anxious eyes to focus on yours as he speaks in a low, watery voice, “You’re right… You’re always right love. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry… You’ve given me so many chances. So, so many. And-” His voice becomes choked, “and I fucked every single one of them up… But I’m asking, begging for one more love. Please- just, just to talk.”

You pause before giving him a forced nod, swallowing the lump in your throat. Your voice is blunt, “Okay, but I need to take a quick shower first, so… just go wait in the kitchen or something.”

Without waiting for his response, you swing open the door and retreat to your room.

As you turn on the faucets and gather a change of clothes, you can still feel his pleading eyes piercing into you from two rooms away.

You briefly lean on the counter with both hands and stretch your tense body. With a grimace, you strip off your clothes and step into the warm stream of water.

As the warm water cascades over you, you feel the strain in your muscles begin to relax. You take a deep breath and decide that this shower will, in fact, not be quick – He’d wasted your time before why not return the favor. Trying to disregard your spiteful thoughts, you focus on clearing your mind before what will surely be a draining conversation.

As you dry off and get dressed, your body pulses with adrenaline. The urge to run or fight is intense and your body tenses with restraint.

Making your way into the kitchen, you can see him sit awkwardly on the chair. Deciding to keep your distance, you force your shaking hands to still as you lean against the kitchen counter.

You roll your eyes and tiredly speak, “Go on then.”

There is a tense silence as Bjorn avoids looking at you. His voice is shaky and falters as he speaks, “I’m sorry.”

Another silence follows, and your grip on the counter tightens. Scoffing with disbelief, your voice sharp, “‘I’m sorry.’ That’s it?"

You push yourself off the counter, fists clenched and hissing with frustration. “You can’t even bother to look me in the fucking eye?… What? What did you think this was gonnna be, huh?” you seethe. You pause to let your question hang in the air before continuing.

You stare at him as your brows are furrowed in anger. Scoffing, you begin to pace on the kitchen floor, “Nothing to say? Is it because you thought that you’d come here… say sorry… and then everything would be, okay?”

Your pacing on the kitchen floor intensifies as Bjorn swallows, watching you rub your hands across your face. "No, I-" he begins.

Cutting him off, you continue with a bitter tone, “No? You didn’t come here expecting make up sex? Or better yet, angry sex? … You never really wanted to talk about any of this,” you gesture between you angrily, “That was the problem, but now that I’m done… You want to fix it…”

Your voice falters and you feel treacherous tears cloud your eyes, “You know… It hurt… It fucking hurt when you repeatedly, repeatedly kept putting the conversation off?

Dragging a harsh hand through your hair and chest heaving, you hiss, “Do you know how fucking embarrassing it is to be with someone everyone calls an asshole?”

Your voice turns mocking, “They were joking, sure. But I’m not finding the joke very funny right now… I have been soo patient with you. Why do you think that was?”

Not pausing for him to answer, your voice holds so much sorrow and anger, “Because I fucking liked you Bjorn.”

“Liked?”, he chokes out, pain evident on his face.

Slowly nodding, you give him a sarcastic smile, “Yeah liked… Did you think that I stayed and put up with your shit because of the sex? No," you scoff and laugh bitterly.

Leaning on the counter with your head down, your voice is now quiet, “I stayed because I started to fucking like you. The humiliating thing is I really, really liked you.”

Both of you remain silent as you process the weight of your words. The surge of anger and adrenaline may have given you a temporary boost, but now you feel completely drained. Your body slumps as all the emotions that you had been suppressing finally spill out. The argument has left you with an empty feeling in your chest.

When Bjorn finally speaks, his voice is laced with guilt. He stands up, gesturing with open hands as he apologizes, “I understand… and I am so, so sorry for how much I’ve hurt you, for hurting you. I’m sorry for how much I’ve put you through.” There is a pause as he gathers his thoughts, it gives you a chance to do the same. You allow yourself to slide down to the floor, your limbs feeling exhausted and useless.

His face is open and genuine, with gleaming eyes that never waver from your gaze. The pain in your chest intensifies as he lowers himself to the ground, settling a few feet away from you.

Bjorn lets out a wet laugh as he speaks, “You’re right. I’m an asshole, I can be one, but never to you. I never wanted to be that to you. I…”

He draws in a deep breath and licks his dry lips. His hands ball into fists as he struggles against the urge to reach out and touch yours. A few stray tears slide down his flushed cheeks, “I want a relationship with you. I want to be with you… I want to be your partner if you’ll still have me, and if not… then I would like to be a part of your life. I… care about you. I really, really like you. I don’t exactly know if what we have… had… was love, but it was the closest thing I’ve ever come to it. I’m not sure if you feel, or felt, the same but I am so fuckin’ sorry that I ruined it darling.”

Bringing himself closer to you, his tone soft and vulnerable, “I want to work on this, on me…” He licks his lips again, searching for the right words, “If not with you then for you. I want to be better.”

You sigh and reach out a trembling hand towards him. Bjorn immediately crawls closer and takes your hand in his. You study his face and shake your head, gently brushing his hair away back, “Bjorn, I don’t want you to change for me. I want you to do it for you… This won’t work if you do it for me. I accept your apology, but I don’t forgive you…”

You can see the glimmer of hope in his eyes as he tentatively reaches out to wipe away your tears. You force yourself to shake your head and raise a hand to do it yourself.

As his hand falls away, you steel yourself and speak firmly despite the heaviness in your chest, “We are not picking up where we left off… As much as I would really like to believe you, I don’t. I don’t trust you. We need to take things slow, to be friends. I just, just need time… I can’t be around you right now. I’m still so angry and I don’t want to start a friendship with you still angry.”

Licking your dry lips, your breaths come out in choppy bursts. A frown creases your face.

Bjorn swallows hard and gives you space. His voice is strained - it's hard to tell if it's from hurt or hope or both - when he speaks again, “Thank you lo-”

You quickly interrupt him, “And don’t, don’t call me love. It’s-”, you pause, “Nicknames need to be kept to a minimum, but don’t call me love. Please.”

A small part of you is hopeful, cautiously hopeful. Very cautiously hopeful.

“Easy darling, you’ll end up cuttin’ yourself if you keep on,” Bjorn’s teasing and stupidly annoying voice reaches your ears.

Groaning, you flip him off, “Then fucking help me asshat.”

He throws his head back in a laugh as he uncrosses his arms. Pushing himself from the wall he’d leant on, he makes his way toward you.

"Alright, alright," he chuckles, reaching out to you. Your face scrunches with one final attempt before begrudgingly handing the bottle to him. Sitting by you, his fingers brush yours as they grasp the neck of the bottle. You try to ignore the warmth that spreads through your body at his touch.

Bjorn effortlessly opens the beer, and he hands it to you. You purposefully brush your fingers against his as he speaks.

“There you are darling,” he murmurs, his voice suddenly low and serious. Feeling drawn to his blue eyes, you meet his intense gaze. For a moment, the world seems to stand still.

Shaking yourself out of it, you clear your throat. "Thanks," you mutter.

Sighing, you try to focus on why you asked him here in the first place. Your voice is noticeably worried as you speak, “Tyler and Navarro will be distracting Kay, so I need help setting everything up for her. So, can you help me? There’s a lot I wanna to get done.”

Bjorn grins, the earlier tension dissipating. "Depends. What's in it for me?"

As you focus on his familiar teasing, the stress dissipates. You roll your eyes, fighting back a smile. "The pleasure of my company, obviously."

"Oh, obviously," he drawls. "Because that's such a treat."

Your playful tone reaches his ears as he nudges you, "Oh please, you love my company. You’re always around, practically obsessed with me... Who knows maybe one day I’m gonna find a way to get rid of your annoying ass.”

He stretches out next to you as he speaks, “Come now darling, you’d miss me and my pretty face too much.”

He tilts his head towards you and his voice is suddenly serious, genuine, “Hey lo-.”

Your heart jumps as you hear his slip up, but you ignore it.

Clearing his throat, he continues, “Course I’ll help with everything. And she’s gonna love it. Everything will be perfect. With her bleeding heart, she would’ve loved just the cake you’d made her, she’ll crash when she sees what you’ve got planned.”

His light nudges bring you back to reality, pulling you out of your racing thoughts. The teasing grin is back on his face, “Relax princess, it’s ‘sposed to be a party.”

You try. You roll your shoulders, but the attempt is useless. It will be, until everything is done, possibly even after.

Watching you, he bites his lip briefly before furrowing his brows, “C’mon, we’ll work on fixin’ it til everything looks good, yeah?”

Glancing at him, your eyes hold a genuine appreciation for him. Appreciation for more than just his help with Kay’s party.

Holding air in your cheeks, you nod at him. Bjorn’s smile is enough to slightly lessen the anxiety in your chest.

With his reassurance and comforting presence beside you, you become lost in your thoughts.

It took a considerable amount of time and effort to get where you both are now, but you are grateful that you allowed him back into your life. You thought you had strong feelings for him before, but they have only intensified since then.

Bjorn has changed; you have seen how hard he's worked to improve himself and to be better. Everyone around him has noticed; all of them mentioning that he is significantly more tolerable now, attributing that change to you. You don’t want to take the credit for his hard work to change, but… his relationship with you did play a significant role in motivating him to change.

You pause your thoughts and sneak a glance at him from the corner of your eye.

He gets up to grab another beer and stumbles over the trash on the floor, cursing under his breath. You can't help but release a small, breathless giggle, causing him to turn towards you with a playful glare.

The smile on your face softens as he makes his way back towards you. You both sit in silence before your gentle voice breaks it, “I forgive you Bjorn.”

You shift your gaze from the people around you to his pretty blue eyes, "I forgive you," you say softly. "And maybe not now… but if you wanna start dating, start a relationship together… then I’m ready.”

A wide grin spreads across his face at your words, and he bites his lip to contain it. You can't help but smile in return.

The warm feeling in your chest intensifies as he takes your hand in his. Squeezing your clasped hands, he swallows.

Bjorn's eyes shine with emotion as he gazes at you, he squeezes your hand tighter. "Are you sure?" he asks softly, his voice filled with hope and a hint of disbelief.

You squeeze his hand back, feeling a surge of warmth at his consideration. "I'm sure. We've taken things slow, built a friendship. I trust you again, Bjorn. And I..." You pause, gathering your courage. "I think I'm falling in love with you."

His breath catches and for a moment he's speechless. Then a brilliant smile spreads across his face. "I love you too," he murmurs.

Bjorn lets out a shaky breath, bringing your joined hands to his lips and pressing a gentle kiss to your knuckles. "Thank you," he murmurs against your skin. "I promise I won't let you down this time. I'll do whatever it takes to make this work."

You can't help but smile at the sincerity in his voice. "I know you will. We'll make it work together."

Bjorn leans in slowly, giving you time to pull away if you want. But you don't. Your eyes flutter closed as his lips meet yours in a tender kiss.

Pulling away, you feel the familiar warmth of his forehead against yours. You laugh and caress his cheek with your thumb, teasingly saying, “That’s all you’re getting til you take me out on a date.”

His warm breath tickles your face as he chuckles, "A date, huh?" Bjorn murmurs, his eyes twinkling with mischief. "I think I can manage that.”

He wraps an arm around your shoulder, and you lean into him, both of you lost in comfortable silence. Kissing your forehead, Bjorn's arms feel like home.

[charliemwrites]

Hello, me again! Thank you so much for indulging all of us as we pass around the collective braincell we all share for your Keeper/Kept AU!

I love seeing everyone’s thoughts and your responses to them, I feel like there’s been some amazing discourse about many different aspects of what healthy relationships look like, struggles with mental health and the difficulties that come with adapting yourself and others to accommodate your needs. It’s been so beautiful seeing so many of us find community within this AU and I truly cannot stop thinking about it?!

I remember you said you have a neuroscience background and I have a psychology background, so I am very curious how you think our dear Keepers would react to their pets when they display self-deprecating behaviors?

Poor Shy Thing hiding her face in the blankets when she wakes up one morning with Johnny after a particularly hard night, couldn’t turn her brain off because she kept thinking about Johnny’s sketchbook full of her portraits and how she doesn’t really look like that, that’s too pretty to be her.

And when Johnny wakes he pulls her close to press a gentle kiss to her forehead, mumbling a “G’morning bonnie,” as he peels his eyes open. “Ye look so beautiful in the mornings like this,” he croons, voice still thick and gravelly with sleep.

But his sleepy smile falters when he hears Shy Thing’s meek voice, muffled by the blankets bunched up around her face, “How can you find someone like me beautiful?”

And his heart absolutely shatters 😭

(It really does seem to be a collective brain cell lmao. I’m so thrilled and amazed with all the ideas and Thoughts™️ people have had; and all the beautiful forms and shapes this au has taken for everyone!)

Self deprecating language is a big no no for Johnny.

“Oi, that’s the love of my life yer talkin’ about. Mind yer fuckin’ manners.”

He takes the approach that it hurts him to hear you say such awful things about yourself. Breaks his heart. He doesn’t “need to blow smoke up yer arse” he calls it as he sees it. And as he sees it? You’re utterly gorgeous. No matter how you look or think you look. He loves you all the time and always thinks you’re beautiful.

He’ll tell you as many times as you need to hear it and beyond. Makes it a personal challenge to tell you so five times a day at least. It’s an easy quota to meet; you’re utterly fantastic.

And yeah, you definitely cry. A lot. Or even get mad at him a few times. But he’s a stubborn bastard and there are growing pains. One day you’ll see yourself through his eyes and know that every awful thing you’ve thought or said about yourself was a lie.

[take-taker-taken]

ShawnXreader? Bratty reader getting a spanking from HBK?

Thank you, lovely Anon! Hope this hits the spot…

“Honey, I’m home!”

You grin at the sound of his voice as the front door opens and then you curse quietly as you realise the half-full takeout cup is still perched on the table. You leap up and grab it, swiftly tucking it away behind the couch. You’ve already had your quota of iced coffee ‘concoctions’ (as Shawn calls them), for the week and so you’ll be in trouble if he sees it.

You turn around with a smile and he drops his bag to the floor and opens his arms. With a happy giggle you leap into them and he kisses you, spins you around and sets you back on the floor before pulling you in for a deeper kiss. You close your eyes and drift into it when he suddenly stops and leans back, looking at you closely.

“What?” You pout at the abrupt end to the kiss but he just continues to stare, his eyes narrowing slightly. “Do I have something on my face?”

“Where is it?” He says, casting suspicious glances around the room and then turning back to you after noticing the ring of condensation on the table.

You feel yourself blush but try to appear nonchalant, saying with a frown, “Where is what?”

He gives you a warning look. “Baby girl, I can see the chocolate in the corners of your mouth and I can taste the coffee. Where is it - or did you finish it already?”

You roll your eyes and say huffily, “It’s only a drink.”

He gives his head a small shake and his tone is measured as he replies, “We’ve talked about this, remember, and you agreed that you were having too many of those things. You asked me to set a limit on how many you should have and so-”

“I wanted one!” You practically stamp your foot and your voice raises as you interrupt him.

All Shawn raises is his eyebrow. “Did you forget who you’re talking to? Sounds like you need a time-out, little girl; go stand in the corner.”

Folding your arms tightly and pouting, you go to push past him but he stops you with a hand on your shoulder. “After you answer my question and tell me where it is.”

“Find it yourself,” you mutter, shrugging his hand off.

“Yeah, keep it up, brat. You’ve just upgraded from a time-out to a spanking.”

You’re annoyed at yourself for letting him down and for being caught out, but you know that now he’s said you’re getting a spanking there’s no way back from it, so it’s time for damage limitation. “It’s behind the couch,” you say quietly, head down.

“Go get it.”

Dragging your feet slightly you go and retrieve the cup, before turning back around to face him and he inclines his head towards the door.

“Into the kitchen and get rid of it.”

With a small sigh you do as you’re told, carrying it through to the kitchen where you remove the lid and pour the liquid down the drain. You don’t care - it no longer seems as appealing as it did before. You rinse out the cup too, and you’re about to dry it a little when his voice floats through to you.

“It doesn’t take that long - get your butt back in here!”

You return to the living room and he’s sat on the couch, waiting. You pause in the doorway and then he beckons to you.

“Over my knee. Now. You know what happens to little brats who don’t follow the rules.”

You swallow and make your way over before slowly getting into position with your hips in his lap. He shifts you about a little and pulls your sweats and underwear down to your knees before guiding your arms out in front of you.

“You gonna keep those there, or do I need to hold on to your hands?”

“Keep ‘em,” You answer quietly and he strokes a hand down your back. The comfort is only momentary because in the next second his hand lands hard on your butt and you gasp with a mixture of shock and pain. He alternates between each cheek, delivering three more hard smacks and you whimper and clench your hands into fists.

“You know why you’re being punished, don’t you?” His free hand presses firmly into the middle of your back as he deals another half dozen blows.

“Uh huh - yes!” You correct yourself, knowing that you’re supposed to use your words.

He pauses the spanking for a moment and squeezes your cheeks. “Tell me,” He says quietly.

“I - I broke the rule about how many coffees I can have,” You say and then cry out as a fresh volley of hits lands on your skin.

“And…?”

You close your eyes briefly, feeling ashamed. “I - I lied to you about having it.”

“What else?” You don’t answer right away and so he unleashes again with a series of hard smacks that alternate on your cheeks, ending up with a couple of hits to your tender sit spot.

“I was rude! I’m sorry!” You kick your feet but to no avail as he just shifts to clamp one of your legs beneath his own.

“Quit struggling.” His tone is impassive and he reaches across to pinion your wrists without missing a beat before you have the chance to try and reach back to cover yourself. “You earned this baby girl, and you’re gonna take it.”

The only sounds for the next minute or so are the slap of palm against skin and you yelp and wriggle as he lands hard slaps to your bottom and thighs. Tears leak out, a mixture of pain and regret, as you twist your hands together within his grasp. Stupid coffee with it’s syrup and stupid chocolate cream…

“I’m sorry! I won’t do it again, I promise, please!” You cry out as the blows rain down, seemingly getting harder. How can his hands be so soft and yet so hard at the same time?

“Yeah, I bet.” He lands four more hard slaps, and the final one ends with his hand impacting and then rubbing firmly against your burning flesh. You wriggle forward as though trying to escape and then give in to the treatment, as however sore it is, the gesture signals the end of your ordeal.

“You gonna stick to our rules in future, baby girl?” He squeezes the flesh hard and you whimper, kicking your feet again.

“I promise!”

“Alright then,” He answers and releases you from his grip, helping you to your feet. “Into the corner now - five minutes.”

Normally you would pout and argue about corner time, but you’re fairly sure that your ass is a beacon and so without protest you allow him to set you upright and shuffle you to the corner.

“Hands on your head, baby girl. You have a little think there about our rules.”

Backside throbbing, you do as he says, amazed that your butt seems to have developed its own heartbeat.You know of course that you were wrong to break his rule, and even more so to lie about it. You sniff, feeling sorry for yourself and settle in for the wait…

~*~

“OK, we’re all done, baby girl. Out you come. Come on and give me a hug.”

You turn eagerly and throw yourself into his waiting arms, happily inhaling the scent of his skin. “‘M sorry,” You answer truthfully, “I won’t do it again.”

“Sure hope not,” He says, giving you a squeeze. “Much more fun things to do than punish you…”

You look up at him shyly. “Show me?”

…

TTT

[velvet-paradox]

Seen

Fandom: Outer Banks Pairing: Rafe Cameron x Pogue!Female reader Summary: When Ward kicks Rafe out of the house, he has nowhere to go until you run into him.  Length: Long Warnings: NSFW 18+ ONLY, reader discretion advised, explicit language, strong language, angst, sad Rafe, drug use, fingering, oral (m receiving), protected P in V, detailed smut.

ENJOY!!!

"You owe me." You said as you pulled your truck down the bumpy road to old John Routledge's road, bouncing around in the cabin as you drove, the little air freshener hanging off of your rear view mirror swaying wildly.

Fall was just on the cusp, colored leaves threating the ground as you turned on your blinker, a stickler for not having Shoupe stop you for some miniscule traffic stop on such a fine day if he were around trying to make quota.

"Yeah yeah."

"I mean it this time!" You voiced. You weren't just some limo service or cabbie on The Cut but Pope was technically family, your parents being his parents best friends before either you or the young man shaking around in the passenger seat were born some twenty odd years ago. He had passed his written but not the actual behind the wheel test just yet.

"I said yeah!" Pope grumbled, grabbing an overnight and a large water bottle from the back before he hopped out, giving the door a hearty slap to send you on your way.

"I'll pick you up on Sunday. And hey, Pope?"

"Yeah?" He stopped, holding his pillow.

You pointed at him from the inside, JJ gave you a little wave with two beer cans in hand before jogging down towards the watery bank. "Be safe." ....

Leaning forward you could see the clouds rolling in, a storm was on its' way and you wanted to get home before it hit. You turned down the radio as if that would help in your beat up truck. At the stop sign you saw someone trudging their way along the bank, no sidewalk was in place at this corner of the street. You slowed and made your turn, headlights illuminating a tall, familiar form. Reaching over you rolled down the passenger window.

"I know that's not Rafe Cameron on my side of the island." You called, putting the truck into park with the flashers on, just in case.

Rafe slowed to a stop, hands in his pockets before answering with a quiet "Hey."

"Hey, yourself. What, Barry's not home?"

"Oh he's home."

"Where's your truck?" You looked around at the empty street, a stray cat ducking underneath one of the parked cars on his side of the street.

"My dad drove it home."

"Without you?" You asked once you hopped out, that blue polo that brought out his eyes sat nice and tight over his chest, clearly he'd been working out with his buddies at the Country Club doing him justice. 

"Yes without me, Y/N!" Rafe gestured around with his hands then his chest. "Do you see his ass around here anywhere? Why do you care anyway, just go  home."

"Relax, tough guy." You chuckled and came to the side, hands up in defense. "It's late, gonna' get even darker soon, you should probably get inside somewhere."

"I'm a big boy Y/N, I can take care of myself thanks."

"Maybe on Figure Eight, but out here..." You motioned around with a shake of your head. “There's six stray dogs three blocks from here, alone. Get in the truck." You motioned with your head, the soft music from the truck traveling just enough for you to know it was a song worth missing. "You want me to take you home?"

"That's the problem." Rafe sighed and bit his bottom lip.

"What is?"

"Fuck, you're nosy!" Rafe shouted, when you took a step back he rubbed at his smooth face, pointing to you then the darkening sky, then to himself. It's not like you two were ever considered friends, forced to partner up in class a handful of times, did a few shotguns at the Boneyard, maybe played a round of Cornhole but not friends. Especially knowing what he thought of Pogues in the first place, he was classist and his attitude spoke volumes.

"I don't... I don't have a home to go to. Not anymore. My dad kicked me out tonight, paid off what I owed Barry and... he just, he just fucking left me here! I have no way to get back to the Eight, it's fucking dark as shit, I'm cold." Rafe rattled on, emotional rollercoaster and it made you worried when you saw the tears in his eyes, he was lost. "I try, alright? I'm not the best son, yeah, I know that but I'm trying here. Trying to make my father proud, I'm out here fighting for my family and what does he do? Chucks me out like I don't matter. But I do matter Y/N, maybe not to you but I fucking matter and instead of cleaning up everyone else's messes, I wish someone would give me a little validation, a little 'Thank You Rafe'. Would it kill 'em, huh? I'm a very proactive type person you know? Just-- sometimes I wish someone would just ask me if I'm ok, ya' know?"

Rafe sniffled and wiped at his eyes before looking at you again, expelled of most of his energy Rafe bent over and hugged his knees. That was the most he's ever said to you and you felt bad, not sorry, per se, for the man before you. You just felt bad that he had a house full of people, siblings and friends and yet here he was out on The Cut breaking down and venting to a Pogue. 

It made him seem less scary and boisterous, made him human.

With a sigh you closed the gap, not sure if you should touch him but you did, softly. Rafe slowly stood, blue eyes fixed on where your hand was on his cool shoulder.

"Rafe. Are you ok?"

Rafe swallowed his pride and pursed his lips and shook his head, dirty blonde strands sweeping across his brow. "No. No Y/N I am not ok, I am so not ok."

"You wanna' know what I think?"

"Sure. Shoot."

"I think you're fucking tired. No; more like fucking exhausted." Rafe looked somewhat relieved, you could see him working things out in his brain, squinting in the moonlight. You made up your mind as the words left your lips. "Alright, I'm taking you home."

"Home? Did you not hear a fucking thing I just said?! I just poured my heart out to you and--"

"Relax. I'm not taking you to your house; I'm taking you to mine." You announced, crossing the road to hop back into your truck, waving for Rafe to follow with fluid steps.

....

"Well, you've got three options Mr. Cameron. Anywhere on the floor is free, the couch which also turns into a full though it's a little lumpy so... or you can sleep on the right side."

Your house wasn't a mansion by any means, just a cozy one level you decorated over the years. Rafe clearly hadn't been this far on the OBX by the he was looking around like a tricked dog going to vet and not a car ride. He stood next to you, his height made him look like a giant inside your small angular living room. 

He shoved his hands in his pockets again.

"The right side of what?"

"Of me." 

Rafe choked and gave you a set of neatly furrowed brows.

"We're adults Rafe, we can sleep in the same bed."

"I know that I just... I haven't slept with anyone in a long time."

"That's shocking." You snorted and turned on another lamp, kicking off your boots and tossing your purse to an ottoman.

"Hey, thanks. But... why are you being nice to me?"

"Someone should," You shrugged and looked at him trying not to take up space as he looked around. "There's some pizza in the fridge if you want, figure out where you're gonna' sleep. I'm gonna' take a shower."

Rafe just nodded and continued perusing your things.

....

"He's where?!" Pope shouted, dropping his side of the cooler you were helping him carry into the back room of his dad's business.

"Calm down, it's just Rafe, not some psycho killer." You grunted and hefted up the heavy box, walking backward but making sure every ten feet or so you wouldn't trip and break something.

"Actually I'd feel better about some stranger being there than Rafe fucking Cameron in your house!"

"Language!" Heyward called out from the register, a pencil behind his ear when you passed by.

"Sorry, Pop. I'm serious though, get him out of there."

"He's not going anywhere. He doesn't even have a car, it's just for a few days I'm sure."

"A few days? Is your head on straight?," You held in your chuckle when Pope's voice cracked at his exclamation, his eyes narrowing. "This is Rafe Cameron we're talking about here, the biggest bully of every Pogue since he's been alive probably! And he's staying at your house, on The Cut... hell Y/N he even bullied you when you went to school with him!"

"I think he's misunderstood." It  was true but that was how long ago now? You and Pope brought the cooler down gently and you dusted your hands off on the smooth apron you wore over your clothes.

"I think he's fucking crazy!"

"Pope, don't make me come back there!"

"Sorry." Pope apologized again with a sigh. Your friend touched your shoulder and pointed a finger at you as if he were the older of the pair. "If he tries anything..."

"Right. I'll be sure to let you know." You chuckled and finished unloading the latest shipment.

....

"Are you playing Jenga... by yourself?" You smiled, Rafe's big body was sitting on the floor of your living room, just pulling out a middle block when you got home. It was strange to see someone in your house after living alone for so long, let it be the Kook King himself. Rafe pushed back his hair, ready to make his next move.

"What else am I gonna' do?" Rafe rolled his eyes.

"I'm surprised you're not wasting your battery on your phone. Call up one of your buddies to take you instead of me."

You noticed how he worked his jaw and cracked his neck, placing the block to the top of the tower. "Got a little silly waiting to see if my dad would call so I turned it off. If he wanted me home, I would be."

"How long do you think you're gonna' hang around The Cut now that you're an honorary Pogue and all?"

"I'm not a Pogue." Rafe snapped.

"I wouldn't be so sure," You made a face and joined him on the floor, taking a block of your own before responding. "Let's see... you got in a blowout with a parent, check. Their giving you the silent treatment for emphasis of how much they stand by said statement, double check. You got kicked out of the house and all of your lovely amenities and are crashing on someone's couch, triple check. And by all those accounts, that definitely has Pogue written all over it!"

"Oh fuck off."

"You can stay as long as you need to, if you need a ride somewhere just ask." 

You watched the block of choice slide out.

"I can drive, ya' know?"

"Yeah, your truck, not mine."

"I'm not gonna' total it! I need to get some clothes at least, I've never worn the same outfit two days in a row in my life. Gross."

"Oh shut up, live a little. You don't have to prove anything to me, Rafe. I know you." You said and took your turn.

Rafe's next words made you second guess the blonde.

"Nobody knows me."

....

"I don't understand why we waited until after midnight to come here." You voiced and parked your truck at the front of Tanny house, Rafe sighed and told you to be quiet.

"Because I don't want to see my dad, or any Cameron right now," Rafe huffed and pushed open the creaky passenger door. "I won't be long, just gonna' grab a few things alright? don't ditch me."

You watched him cut a short jog through the yard.

Tapping your fingers on the steering wheel you waited, why you didn't really know. The guy was home, Ward was probably over stewing about kicking out his only son. All you had to do was drive off but something about Rafe being sullen and human, a different version you got to witness was intriguing, a mystery. You didn't mind the company either, you reasoned. Especially handsome company.

With that smooth jaw and square chin, you remembered that odd zing, that scrape up your spine when you saw him sweet talking some naïve girl at the Boneyard. What was he saying to them to have them bat their lashes and gloss their lips, cock their heads and laugh with him. Or was he laughing at them? Too vulnerable to know they were in the clutches and paw of a serial predator. 

Especially when they flirted over how much coke forty bucks could get them.

You were ripped from your memories when the door creaked open once more, Rafe had grabbed a red duffel bag and held it in his lap when he got back in. You snorted when you realized he had made himself a quick sandwich, holding it in his mouth.

To your surprise he offered the rest to you on your drive back over the bridge. ....

A few days turned into two weeks. It was strange how easily you two interacted, understood the silence, domesticated Rafe Cameron was something you thought didn't exist. Let alone picture.

He was the enemy for most of your life and here you were, watching the way his fingers moved and flexed while he rolled a joint. Stargazing in your little backyard. The lighter took a few tries before he lit it, inhaling the smoke with a satisfied smile before he passed it to you.

"Do you think I'm a bad person?" Rafe asked when half the joint was gone, making you sit up.

"Do you think you're a bad person?"

"I'm asking you." Rafe sniffed and took the joint from your hand.

"If you had asked me a few years I would've said you were the worst," Rafe snapped his head to you but shrugged, knowing it was true. He was an asshole. "But... I wouldn't let you stay with me if I thought you were."

Rafe clicked his teeth and took the last full drag, putting it out on a used pasta sauce lid. "Nobody wants me."

"What?"

"I haven't heard from my dad since I got here," Raffe shrugged again, holding onto his knees and digging the heels of his shoes into the ground. "He texted me once though, last Saturday, asking if I was safe. I tried calling Top and Kelce... said I couldn't stay with them either."

You frowned. "Do they know where you are?"

"They know but they don't care," Rafe smoothed back his hair with both hands and bit the inside of his cheek. "Maybe I'm as bad as everyone thinks. Might as well be the villain, somebody has to be."

You were unraveling the layers that made up Rafe Cameron without even knowing, all he really needed was someone to listen to him. To hear him out, to entertain his venting and let him clear his head. You wondered if he had any real friends at all, if they'd change the subject or ignore his feelings all together. Maybe that's why he wanted to stay with you, you saw him.

"I think you're crazy," Rafe snorted and gave you a look when you bumped your shoulder against his own. "You're not a bad man Rafe, you've got demons like everyone else. Let's not waste a good buzz so," you laid back on the grass, tucking your hands behind your head. "Now, show me which constellations you know."

Rafe chuckled, a genuine and foreign sound that felt like bells ringing. "I don't know any."

"Sure you do! Everyone knows at least two-- so show me."

"Alright alright." Rafe shook his head and laid down next to you. A light wash of his cologne puffed up around you that made your mouth water, or maybe you were just high. You smiled when he wiggled a little closer, crossing his ankles and pointing up to the night sky, clearly making up constellations as the night went on. 

Another thing you'd never thought you would hear, or be anywhere near was his real laughter.

....

You balanced the grocery bags in your arms, not paying attention to anything other than not tripping, breaking any eggs or--

"Alright man, I'll catch ya' later!"

You looked up just in time to see Barry hop down your front steps after shutting the door. 

"Barry?"

"Oh hey there lover," Barry chided and wiggled his fingers at you. "So it is true, then huh? You and Country Club shackin' up, playin' house and shit."

"It's not like that." You gripe and walk a little further, gripping the handles on a slipping bag.

"Not what I heard," Barry flashed a smile and wink that made you shake your head as he swing his keys around his fingers. "You two play nice now!"

"Fuck off." You said and hopped the night air brought your words to his ears as he chuckled and you went into your house.

You didn't see Rafe when you came in, kicking the door shut behind you and made your way into the kitchen. Your poor fingers were numb as you flexed them and looked around the kitchen. You were just about to call out to him when you heard Rafe instead. Sniffing; in your room.

"Just one more... one more and you'll be set. You'll be squared away, yeah? Be a man... be a man."

You just tapped the door with your foot and a jumbled mess that was Rafe Cameron jumped away from your dresser making it shake. 

"Oh hey! You're home!" Rafe wiped his face and covered the line of coke on the old wood. "I was uh I was waiting for you."

"For what? Why are you in my room?"

Rafe looked around for a moment, touching his chest. That damn blue striped shirt of his that made his eyes glow, or maybe it was the coke he was doing. He seemed just as confused as you were to be in your space. Since he'd been 'shacking up', as Barry had said, Rafe had been a gentleman and crashed on the couch. A few nights he was face down, shirtless and shivering when you passed him to go to the bathroom, covering him up on your way back to your room.

"Um I wanted to talk to you."

"About letting Barry come over when I have no recollection of telling you you could just bring home strays." You crossed your arms over your chest.

"Barry isn't a stray, Y/N! God... I'm sorry sorry, he's ya' know. A friend. And I um, I needed said friends' advice so yeah. I invited him over, just for a little bit though," Rafe rushed out to say, gesturing with his hands, jittery. 

"Whatever," you shrugged. "Just don't leave that shit around, I'm not judging you just... gimmie’ a heads up." You said and went to put away the groceries. "I'm gonna' talk to my dad." Rafe said from the door jam of the kitchen, biting at his nails.

"That's good, when?"

"I was thinking tonight actually um," Rafe bit at his lips before coming closer and putting a box of chips on top of the fridge for you. "I wanna' do it person so... would you mind like, giving me a ride later?"

You stopped and looked up at him, a questioning and honest smile on his face. "Sure. Just let me know when ok?"

"Ok... ok yeah. Thanks." 

Then it happened.

The most bizarre and peculiar event of your entire life happened in an instant. Maybe it was genuine, a long time coming, some pining affection or honestly, the coke but... Rafe hugged you. Like a real hug, both of his long arms reached around your neck, his face inches from your own. The warm smell of his cologne a burst in your face, surrounding you like a cloud of intimacy. What seemed like forever you reached out and touched his back.

"Seriously, thank you.”

"Yeah. Sure..." You said in a daze, stepping back when Rafe took out his phone and hurriedly went to the living room.

"You sure you want me to come in?" You asked once the two of you pulled into the Tanny Hill drive, not out on the street as your previous visit.

"Yeah, why not?" Rafe shrugged and hopped out and gave you a look that told you to hurry. "I don't know how long this is gonna' take so."

"If you say so.”

Ward looked you up and down, a small smile behind his beard when you two walked in. A flash of light streaked through the night sky, a distant rumble in the distance. Rose got you something to drink.

"So you're the elusive Y/N then," Ward finally stuck out his hand, watching his son rub the back of his neck next to you. "Nice to meet you and thank you for taking care of my boy. So, I assume he's been bouncing around between friends this month, hmmm?"

"You didn't tell him?" You shot Rafe a glance.

"I um, Rafe's been staying with me... the whole month."

"The whole--" Ward scoffed and looked at his son. "Interesting. And he hasn't been any trouble?"

"I'm right here, dad." Rafe huffed.

"I know son, I just wanna' make sure you're not making trouble for this little lady here too. We'll talk in my office," Ward said and grabbed onto Rafe's shoulders, ushering him further into the estate leaving you behind with a glass on iced lemon water from Rose. "Thank you again Y/N."

"So," Rose sweetly smiled and walked through the downstairs living room, which was about the size of most of your house. "How was the monster?"

"Excuse me?" 

"Rafe. That terror of a boy, I tell you Y/N it has been a blessing not having him torturing the house lately. I mean, he's mostly in his room but when he's not, oh God help me. Always slithering around, looking for Ward's constant approval is very exhausting."

"That's kind of rude." 

Pieces to the puzzle were fitting together why Rafe was reluctant to come home, to be around people who didn't trust him as far as they could throw him. Maybe that's why he always acted out. Hurt people tended to hurt people.

"Please," Rose snorted and began to walk off. "He knows all this, I've told him several times."

Once she was out of sight you decided you didn't like this woman, and it would not be the end of the world if you never spoke to her again.

You jumped when a cracked of thunder boomed through the house, rattling the chandelier above your head in the hallway you had found yourself in. Looking at paintings and family photos, one was even an old fashioned portrait. 

The water was long gone, just melting ice cubes at this point when the rain started to come in, pattering and streaking down the windows. You stood by one, watching the rain fall, little flashes of lightning bloomed above. A nice night. 

You got lost in the steady rhythm building up outside, when a rather bright and far closer bolt of lightning struck near the house you caught Rafe's reflection in the window. He was quick to meet you there. He took your hand.

"Come with me."

"Where?"

"Just come on." Rafe smirked and led you up the winding staircase, you'd never seen so many in your life. How did they manage to get any kind of furniture up these things? You slipped but caught your step, holding on to Rafe's arm. There was another flight of stairs up above it seemed when you stopped on a landing.

"Rafe, what's going on?" You asked once secure and hidden in his room. "What happened?"

"Dad said as long as I keep my nose clean and work hard, he'll let me come home," Rafe smiled and wiped his mouth with both hands. "I'm gonna' do it this time. I have to," Rafe tapped his head then turned to you, placing his heavy hands on your shoulders. "He said he's proud of me. That I've been on a good path since you found me. I'm gonna' get my shit together. For real this time."

"Rafe, you don't have to explain yourself to me."

"I know that, I know. I just... you've been there for for whatever reason, that's on you," Rafe joked and roped you into another embrace, resting his cheek on the crown of your head. "You get me. You saw me, the real Rafe and you didn't run for the fucking hills. Most people don't."

"Well you are an asshole."

There was a brief second where you wondered if saying that was such a good idea but then you felt him laugh through you.

"True. I'm not the nicest guy, unless you're around I guess."

"I'll take the compliment." 

It felt strange but a good strange, squeezing him around the waist when a loud crack of thunder sounded again, signally you should maybe take off before it gets too bad to see. Hydroplaning was not on your To-Do list today.

"Well I'm glad it worked out, you were a pretty decent roommate." Rafe let you go but stayed still in front of you. "I should probably head out."

"Why?"

You frowned and looked at the window, pointing to it. "Cause it's raining, have you looked outside?"

"Yeah I know it's raining, pretty hard actually so why are you trying to leave?"

"Do you... do you want me to stay?"

"Yeah, that's kinda' why I brought you up here." Rafe scoffed. "And to give you this."

If you would've have been told senior year Y/N that some kicked-rock-down-the-street years later you would be in Rafe Cameron's room on a rainy night, in his arms and kissing him; you would've backhanded them on sight.

But, as things played out, that's exactly when happened. You knew you were in big trouble the minute Rafe held your head in his hands, blinking down his nose at you it made your stomach flip. You opened your mouth to say something, anything at this point but all that came out was a whine when he kissed you.

You grabbed on to his arms, your poor knees from working so hard and climbing all those steps, threatened to give way if you didn't. Rafe didn't stop, catching you and holding you up and flush against him.

....

"You're so nice, so fucking nice to me ya' know that?" Rafe breathed into the soft, bare skin of your neck. You ran your hands up and down his back, feeling him tense and tremble against you sitting in his lap.

"Someone has to be." 

Rafe paused and grabbed the back of your neck, bringing you back to nose level. "You said that before."

You smiled and cupped his face, he nuzzled into it. "You're so touch starved, aren't you?"

"Us Cameron's aren't big on affection." Rafe admitted and wiggled beneath you, he was straining against the seam of his boxers, you could feel his cock engorging and growing hot. You weren't fairing any better, you knew if you moved them aside your slick would be glistening.

"That's a shame but that means," you hunched over and whispered into his ear. "I get to be real good to you. I'll touch you anyway you want, however you want me too baby, you got it."

Rafe groaned and stole a sloppy, teeth clicking kiss. You smiled against his mouth, moving up to your knees quickly and peeled down your panties, adding them to the pile. 

Rafe's thighs were ticklish, spreading his long legs almost cost you a black eye! He apologized but let you rub your hands up and down his skin, giving them each a squeeze, your eyes focused on his cock. The outline alone had you salivating, it jumped when you kissed his hip, taking a fresh bite of the meat you found there.

Rafe fisted his sheets, clenching his teeth he kept his eyes on you, boring into your swift movements, voicing how good it felt. He whined when you finally put your mouth on him, a sound of relief when you wrapped your hand around what didn't fit, the rest disappearing into your mouth.

You'd had reactions of course, you know what you were doing but the way Rafe made it sound was he was in heaven. 

"Fuck that's so God damn good, so pretty like that. Fuck." Rafe groaned when you swallowed him further, his stomach muscles tightening when you dragged up your free hand, nails gently scratching his too warm chest. You clenched your walls around nothing as he caught your wrist, gave it a slight tug and soon you were feeling the inside of his mouth on your fingertips.

You gagged, on purpose a long line of spit joining your mouth to his cock, you had to see what he looked like. Eyes shut, both hands now gripped your wrist while he savored having your fingers in his mouth. His mouth pleased around them, he looked content. Happy.

You kissed the crown of his cock and moved to lay on your side, resting a leg over his hip. He looked so dreamy, long lashes and blown out blue eyes, he pulled your fingers from his mouth and sat up on his elbow.

"You're a total smoke show." Rafe praised and grabbed your hip before you pulled him over to you for a kiss.

"Finger me." You whined and bit your lip, watching a true grin morph on his face. He gave you a nod that spoke of 'you got it' as he spread your lips. Those long fingers of his had you quickly covering your mouth, they reached new heights and depths you hadn't felt touched before. He liked that and wedged in a third finger, you rolled you eyes feeling the cool metal of his ring meet the hood of your clit every other thrust.

"How's that, pretty thing? That feels so fucking good when you squeeze my fingers like that."

"Dammit Rafe," your walls instantly gripped them, "I'm gonna' cum if you keep that up."

"That's kinda' the point," Rafe snickered and moved to kiss you, hovering just out of reach. He backed up just out in time for your lips to miss. You groaned. "Don't worry baby, I've got you. I'm gonna' make you cum more than one time tonight, I can tell you that."

You grabbed the back your leg, his fingers thrusting at a different angle that had you seeing spots, you couldn't shut your eyes though, the view was too perfect to miss. Rafe finally kissed you then, could feel you pulsating around his thick fingers.

You felt it, that riptide of satisfaction coming into view, you cupped the back  of his head, making sure he didn't tease you again with the threat of a kiss as you came, moaning his name as a chant. The aftershocks threw you off, good God was he good at that. You let your leg drop as you caught your breath.

"You're gonna' kill me." You said in between breaths, shivering with a passing rumble of thunder.

Rafe chuckled against your cheek. "Would it be too much to ask to fuck you?"

This time you laughed. "Oh baby, you're not gonna' fuck me," you patted his cheek and rolled him over, beaming when he instantly put his hands on your thighs. "I'm gonna' fuck you."

In a rush Rafe pointed to the bedside table, rummaging in the drawer for a condom, thankfully you found it and tore it open. As you sat up on your knees, watching Rafe roll it out and onto himself, you looped an arm around his neck, scratching the fine hairs on the back of his head. He shuddered when you did it again. 

You brought him to you, both of you in a sitting position before you wiggled and rolled and angled your body down to take his cock. Rafe had a creased brow and open mouth, flipping between watching your pleasure and where his cock was disappearing inside you.

"Holy fuck!" 

You clapped a hand over his mouth and shushed him. "Calm down."

His mouth was moving and tickling your palm so you moved it away momentarily. "What?"

"I said I can't help it, jeez baby you just took all that cock like a fucking champ." Rafe held you close to his chest, bare and hot and sweaty. There was no place you'd rather be, you held his face to your neck and you knew he'd leave a bite or two if you let him. "Fuck me, baby."

"You want it?" You smoothed back his hair as you ground yourself against him. "Tell me you want it."

"I want it, want it so fucking bad. I want you so fucking bad, driving me fucking crazy here. Could fuck all day." Rafe raggedly said against your throat.

"I'm all yours."

....

His hand on your throat felt dangerous and comforting as he fucked up into you, foreheads resting and moving together in tandem, both of you a total mess for each other.

"Rafe..."

"I don't want to lose you. You see me, you know me. I want this, I want you." Rafe struggled, giving your neck another squeeze his hips bucking up.

"You said... fuck baby that's so fucking good-- you said no one-"

"Fuck what I said! You know me, the real me. Stay, please stay. I'll be good I swear." Rafe whined when licked into his mouth, capturing that pouty bottom lip that was ranking higher and higher of your favorite things list.

"I'll stay." 

Rafe was full of surprises as he slipped a hand between you, using the pad of his thumb he pressed and circled your clit and bit into the side of your tit.

"I'm gonna' cum!" 

"Cum for me, I need it I need it I need..." You yelped, losing yourself and your voice.

....

"I've never fucked like that before." Rafe admitted when you got out of the bathroom, thankful that he had his own. You laughed pulling on the shirt you'd helped him out of from the floor and got back into bed.

"And you won't," you laughed into his shoulder. 

"I'm pretty sure no one fucks like you and I don't wanna' find out," he settled down and cupped your head in the crook of his elbow. Musing to himself and now to you. "I'll be good, from now on I'm straight. I'm gonna' do it this time."

"I'm with you."

Rafe craned his neck a little at the same time as you tilted your head for a sleepy kiss, the storm fading fast. "So you'll stay?"

"I'll stay."

Tagging: @cherienymphe @synnersaint @hoebx @starkeyobx @outerbankspov @cockslutpadalecki @poguesarerogues @valeriiecameron

[aidankalenko]

dropping off my latest narumitsu here, please enjoy

title: Occurring Continuously (ao3 link)

word count: 3469

summary: Set vaguely after 5-5. Wright thinks Apollo has a crush on him and goes to Edgeworth to ask for his opinion.

notes: A getting together fic that got away from me a bit. Post time-skip Nick is too fun to write.

“I think Apollo has a crush on me.”

“I can't say I’m surprised,” Edgeworth replies without looking up from his tea.

Over the years of their friendship, tumultuous as it has been, Wright has come to find the scent of Edgeworth’s imported teas a tangible anchor for Edgeworth's heavily abstract presence. A sweet aroma of ceylon meanders through the air, a reflection of Edgeworth's indifferent demeanour.

Just the usual. At least it smells nice.

Wright shifts in his seat. The buckle of his waistcoat presses into the small of his back, wedged against the plush chair situated across from Edgeworth.

“Right,” Wright deadpans. “I forgot you lost the ability to experience surprise in your old age.”

That earns him a snort, an auditory hint of a smile.

“After spending my years with you, Wright, I had no choice. Otherwise, I couldn't have coped with your special company.”

“We're getting away from the point,” Wright complains.

“Now that's your specialty.”

“Edgeworth,” Wright whines.

Edgeworth finally looks up. His glasses reflect sunlight and obscure his dark eyes for a second.

“Like I said, I’m hardly surprised,” Edgeworth replies. “You were a role model. Then, you were a mentor. Now, you're his boss and you've got a new suit to boot.”

Wright looks down at his outfit. He smooths down the waistcoat, adjusts the chain of his locket. “The suit can't be that impressive,” he mumbles.

“Agreed,” Edgeworth says with no edge at all. It still earns him an eye-roll from Wright. “But it's a number of levels up from sweatpants and sandals. Plus, your face is completely different without the hat.”

Wright smooths a hand over his scalp. “You really think so?” he asks.

Edgeworth takes a sip of his tea and doesn't bother to hide his unimpressed expression behind his cup. “Wright,” he says, “if you came here looking for compliments, I’m afraid I’ve already hit my daily quota.”

“Is that restricted to comments on my physical features or do I get a different number for my shining personality as well?”

“Wright,” Edgeworth grunts. Wright allows himself a brief laugh.

“Okay, so I look different,” Wright acquiesces, “but, like, I always thought he saw me as a father figure.”

“And?”

Wright manages a slight blush. “Okay, that's kinkier than I was expecting from either of you,” he admits.

Edgeworth shrugs. “I don't know the boy,” he says. “I’m just saying that it might not be as much of a deterrent as you might expect.”

After some more tea, Edgeworth leans an elbow on his desk. “What gave you the inclination to believe he might be infatuated?” he asks.

“Infatuated seems kind of like a strong word.”

“Wright, stay on task.”

“Sorry,” Wright mutters reflexively. He scratches the back of his neck. “Well, I don't know. I’ve caught him staring a couple of times, but I blamed that on the new look. But he also, you know—touches me more. Dusting my jacket kind of thing. Laughs at my jokes.”

“Including that mop you call hair?”

“Firstly, what kind of mop is as stiff and clean as this? And secondly, that was kind of a low blow.”

“I had a feeling your vanity could use some taming if you're receiving such attention from your young protege.”

Wright tugs at his collar. “He is young,” he comments. “Eleven years younger than me, in fact.”

Edgeworth hums. “Ah,” he says. “You're afraid you're a bad influence.”

Wright averts his eyes. “I can't say I’ve been the best,” he says. “I’m trying, but you know. This has all been done on the fly.”

“You're an expert on that by now,” Edgeworth tells him. His sincerity softens the corners of his lips and eyes. “Have more confidence.”

Sighing, Wright nods. “I guess you're right,” he says. “I should, especially if I want to be a good role model for him.”

“You're one of the best this country has ever seen in the courtroom, Wright.”

“I could stand to hear that more often.”

Edgeworth cuts the air with a sharp sigh. Wright grins.

“I’m already pushing it by exceeding my daily quota, Wright,” he says. “As I was saying, you're already a covetable mentor and role model. Any other expectations are ones of your own fabrication. You shouldn't put so much pressure on yourself.”

A small smile curves Wright's mouth. “You know,” he says, “I came to you because you're my best friend and pretty much the smartest guy I know. I wasn't expecting actual human advice. You've really embraced the soft part of you, you know?”

“Wright, I think you forget that I have an adoptive younger sister. The circumstances have their similarities.”

“Can't you just take a compliment?”

“I’ve been told that's not exactly my area.”

“Yes, by me, many, many times. Guess that's my bad.”

Edgeworth smiles in that careful, small way of his. “So,” he says, cutting the atmosphere yet again, smile dropping, “what's the next step?”

“Well, I got my badge back, so I was thinking I should go for my driver's license next—”

“Wright,” Edgeworth says severely.

Wright grins, but he does have the sense to be a tiny bit sheepish. “Wait until a confession comes or not?” he says. He shrugs.

Edgeworth drums his fingertips on his arm. The gesture does not produce sound, but Wright hears it regardless.

“You know,” Wright says, “I thought you would've advised against any sort of advance. He is my colleague, after all, and also eleven years my junior.”

“Wright, I’ve learned that there isn't much I can do to stop you once you've put your mind to something.”

For a second, Edgeworth expresses just a hint of discomfort. Wright almost misses it with all his shameless grinning, but his eyes are very familiar with Edgeworth's silhouette, every sigh and frown comprising a canvas he'd committed to memory with effortless ease ages ago.

Edgeworth fidgets in his seat as light glints off his glasses. He looks like a villain about to make a confession in one of his beloved historic cartoon series. Which is to say, his face moves muscles that slightly resemble some sort of emotion.

“Which is why,” Edgeworth says, “the next logical question is about your future plans. If you have any. Which I am not surprised that you lack.”

“You and your logic,” Wright scoffs. Edgeworth's brow furrows and Wright counts it as a victory. “Guess it's my bad, yet again, to hope for something that isn't a product of your infallible logic.”

A pause.

“You're asking for my personal opinion.”

“He's learning.”

Edgeworth rolls his eyes.

“I don't suppose I have one,” he says, but there's a note of hesitation that slows his lips.

“Uh huh. But you always have an opinion about me.”

“Remember what I said earlier about your vanity?”

Wright chuckles. “Alright, got me there. Still,” he presses, “I’m asking as a friend.”

Edgeworth's expression sours. “That's cheap, pulling the friend card,” he complains.

“It wouldn't be if you just acted without having to be prompted.”

“Fine.”

Edgeworth leans back in his seat. Wright observes the fading scent of ceylon and the faint hints of expensive cologne hanging on Edgeworth's shirt cuffs.

“It's your life, Wright. If you think you can be happy with him, that he can be happy with you, then I don't see how it's a question.”

Silence brews between them, hot, with steam curling at the edges.

“Edgeworth,” Wright coos, “you are so damn cute.”

“Are you asking to be thrown out of my office?” Edgeworth replies hotly, brow twitching.

“That's so sweet of you,” Wright continues, “wanting the best for me and all that. I’d almost think you had a crush on me, too!”

“Wright, with the rate at which your head is ballooning, I’m starting to doubt you'll fit through the door even if I attempt to throw you out of it.”

“That's not a denial.”

“Wright,” Edgeworth says, and the sharp quality of that warning is warmed steel against Wright's throat. “I do not have a crush on you. Don't mistake me for your twenty-something-year-old protege.”

“Oh my god, you're jealous!”

Edgeworth's eyes flash behind his glasses. The thrill of his prickling energy pressing Wright into his seat is reminiscent of those poker games Wright used to play; it's a satisfying taste of nostalgia. That's Edgeworth, through and through.

“I wasn't expecting a confession in exchange for my problem, but I guess that's one way of going about it,” Wright says. His face hurts from grinning.

“Wright.”

The name drops like a bucket of cold water atop Wright's head. Game's over.

Wright sobers his expression. Across from him is a marble statue with cracks around the eyes and mouth. Lines of age, weathering, personality. It doesn't take away from the beauty of the statue, no. In fact, it adds life, and it is there that Wright seeks out clues, truth.

He stepped out of line. He should have known. Edgeworth can be flighty, sometimes more literally than not, when it comes to his emotions. But sometimes Wright can't help himself—especially because of that flight risk.

Some of the lines on that face were carved by Wright himself. And maybe that's why Wright finds himself drawn there, searching. The statue before him is in its most permanent iteration; maybe it's habit that Wright tests that permanence.

“Alright,” Wright says. He resists the urge to put up his hands in some show of submission. “I’m sorry. I stepped out of line.”

Edgeworth's expression tightens like a canvas over its wooden frame. Were he to allow a drop of emotion to hit that pristine primer, Wright is sure he'd be marvelous.

“Perhaps,” Edgeworth allows. Tension slowly seeps out of his face. “And perhaps I should learn how to take a joke one of these days. You'd think I would have, after all this time.”

“You know what they say,” Wright replies, “old dogs and new tricks and all that.”

He finds himself surprised to feel his own body relax. He shouldn't be. More often than not, he's drawn like a bow when he's with Edgeworth.

Edgeworth adjusts his glasses on his face, replaces that mask of cool he's so fond of.

“You really are the turnabout master,” he says, and his voice is weary as he speaks, “somehow spinning this matter into a question of our friendship.”

“It was just a joke,” Wright offers. An olive branch.

Edgeworth manages a wry smile that doesn't quite breach the barrier of his glasses. “Right, and this is the part where I laugh,” he deadpans.

Wright mirrors that wry expression and pulls his phone from his pocket. “Text from Trucy,” he says. “Says she's hungry. I gave her lunch money, but I guess she just misses this newly handsome face.”

Edgeworth stares at him. Wright has an excellent poker face, practised and perfected out of Edgeworth's observant eye. Still, Wright doubts himself under that grey scrutiny.

“You'd know better than I do,” Edgeworth replies airily. He pointedly pulls out a folder from his desk drawer. “Go to her.”

“I’ll update you on the Apollo situation,” Wright promises him.

Edgeworth's expression doesn't budge. His marble is luminous in the sunlight.

“I shall wait with bated breath,” he replies in a voice that certainly does not suggest that he will.

It's an easily difficult move to step out of Edgeworth's office.

—————————

Apollo makes his move sooner than later.

They're both doing some reading from a recent conference out of state when Apollo clears his throat.

“Um, Mr… Phoenix,” he starts.

“Please,” Wright replies, “Mr. Phoenix was my father. Just call me Phoenix. Nick if you're feeling daring.”

Apollo chuckles and the sound warms Wright's belly. “I’ll just try Phoenix on for size for now,” he replies.

Wright avoids making a comment about size.

“Anyway,” Apollo powers on, the brave lad, “I just noticed the time and I was wondering if you wanted me to pick up something from the ramen cart or something. Or, uh, if you wanted to stretch your legs, we could get dinner…?”

“Not somewhere too far,” Wright replies. “These legs can only work so hard after five p.m.”

Apollo's face brightens with the brilliance of starlight. Wright doubts he could ever think of Apollo without also thinking of the galaxy, celestial beauty.

“W-Well, we have a couple of options,” Apollo says, and it's immediately clear that he's been thinking about this for a while. Prepared for several situations and possible outcomes. He can really be such a tryhard sometimes. It's incredibly endearing.

Apollo rattles off some restaurant names ranging from casual to chic. In his heart of hearts, Wright is a simple man; in his wallet, there isn't much to speak of.

“I guess it depends,” Wright says. “Are you treating me?”

Somehow the question is weighty enough to tighten Apollo’s lips.

A switch flips in Apollo’s head. He smiles, worried and weary at the same time, and replies, “Yeah, it’s on me.”

“I could use some fresh air,” Wright accepts. Apollo is the sun.

Wright hasn’t extinguished a sun before. He expects it to be an implosion, a great snuff of fire going up in smoke—he also expects that sun to burn again, a different flame for a better man.

———————————

The next time Wright ends up in Edgeworth’s office around noon, that cyclical scent of ceylon in the air, Edgeworth moves first.

“I pray you’ve come with good news?” Edgeworth asks. His tone is so flat Wright almost trips on his feet on the way in.

“God, the attitude already!” Wright accuses. “I didn’t even say hi and you’re already at my throat!”

“I haven’t had time to face you in court,” Edgeworth replies, having the gall to smile through his words, “so I’ve got to keep you sharp somehow.”

Wright feels his heart expand and deflate all at once.

“I’m not trying to sound desperate,” Wright says, “but man, I miss that.”

Edgeworth’s smile remains for a few moments longer. “Be careful what you wish for,” he says. It’s a chimera caught between promising and threatening.

“Anyway,” Edgeworth says on an inhale. His chest is stiff. Wright couldn’t be more endeared. “Have you any news regarding Apollo, or are you here simply to be a bother?”

Wright hesitates. “You’re so formal,” he begins.

“Don’t deflect,” Edgeworth presses.

Wright winces. “He… He basically asked me out,” he explains. “Like—on a date. Dinner date. He had more confidence than I was expecting, which was insanely cute.”

Edgeworth takes a cup of tea from the corner of his desk and brings it closer. He nods at Wright, prompting him to continue.

Again, Wright hesitates. “He’s cute,” he says, “don’t get me wrong. And he was such—such a gentleman, you know?”

“None of the things you’re saying have anything to do with what actually occurred that night,” Edgeworth observes. He smiles once again. There’s no time to analyze the nature of this smile.

Wright circles his thumbs around each other. “I mean,” he says, his words skipping across the surface of his tongue, “nothing happened.”

“And yet, you seem tormented by the whole thing.”

“‘Tormented’ is a strong word,” Wright comments, flinching.

Edgeworth rolls his eyes. “Regardless, it seems to be on your shoulders,” he says. “What happened? Or was it something you said to him?”

“I guess…” Wright trails off, remembering. With ease, he reels the memories of last night from his mind. The shy touches at his waist. The fluttering smiles. The vigorous blush on the boy’s face.

“I guess it was just that nothing happened,” Wright says. He swallows, and then he also says, “And—well, I told him nothing would happen.”

Edgeworth’s eyebrows fly up his forehead. “It took only one date to make you feel certain?” he asks. The incredulity from his lips is sweet.

Wright stops fidgeting his hands. He places them on Edgeworth’s desk, feeling the earth under his touch. Edgeworth observes him.

“I knew,” Wright says quietly, “that nothing would happen.”

“So,” Edgeworth says, “why did you go?”

“What was I supposed to do,” Wright sighs. He looks down at his hands. They stretch under the weight of two gazes.

There is silence in the room, bitter, aromatic. Wright’s sinuses must be inflamed.

“You know,” Wright starts, unsure of where he’s going, taking blind step after blind step forward, “this is the first time I’ve ever, in the last eight years, talked about—”

He stops. He’s afraid to continue.

Slowly, he raises his eyes to Edgeworth’s face. What meets him is pure, flawless marble—and somehow that gives Wright strength.

“This is the first time,” Wright starts again, “that I’ve mentioned anything about my love life to you, in the entirety of our friendship, and the fact that you said I should do what makes me happy…”

Wright inhales. Exhales. Spurs roll across the walls of his lungs.

“It made me—happy,” Wright says. He chokes on the word, so bulbous and contorted against his soft palate.

Edgeworth pulls forward, closer into Wright’s gravity, inclined towards his downcast eyes. “Wright,” he says softly. “Is there something the matter?”

“You really think that—that I could be happy with Apollo…?”

Wright’s question sounds so hollow, so empty, fragile porcelain that rings thinly against the blunt head of a hammer.

“Well, there’s no way I can be certain,” Edgeworth admits. “I—I could only hope for your happiness,” he adds quietly. “Above all. Indeed, this is the first time romance has ever been discussed between the two of us, and I do recognize the significance of that. And—as simple as it is, I wish only for you to be happy, my friend.”

My friend. The sound of the words vibrating against the walls of Edgeworth’s lush office feels like a succession of lashes against Wright’s spine, propelling him forward. His palms root his weight against the desk between them.

Wright stares at Edgeworth. He knows this face, this perfect, weathered, marble face. The image of that face has haunted him for decades now, in so many different iterations Wright could fill an entire library with records of Edgeworth.

He knows this face, his life’s greatest constant, his favourite everyday novelty.

Today is not a day of novelty. Today, Edgeworth looks the same as ever. He looks steady and stony.

And yet Wright takes his leap.

“You could,” Wright says haltingly, “make me happy.”

The air falls completely still.

Edgeworth inhales. Wright is certain of the ceylon aroma against Edgeworth’s senses, and that is all he is certain of.

“Pardon me?” Edgeworth asks.

“You could make me happy.”

It is an admission, and it is an admission that slides from the pit of Wright’s guts out into the ceylon air of Edgeworth’s plush and posh office.

“I don’t,” Edgeworth says with such slowness, such viscosity, “I don’t know what you mean—”

“Don’t play dumb,” Wright hisses. The noise is ugly, as is the ball of nerves knotting up his lungs and throat.

Edgeworth flushes, flustered. “I’m not—” he starts, but he can’t find the finish. His eyes begin to drown in his blush. The astonishing shade of red startles Wright into a laugh.

“I’m not playing dumb!” Edgeworth spits. His hairs are standing on end. “I genuinely have no idea what you could be insinuating!”

Wright rolls his eyes, and with it, the room spins on its axis in the second of an instant. “No, you do,” he insists. “You do. There’s no way. You’ve been around the world; you’ve met so many people. I can’t spell this out for you, Edgeworth.”

Haunches raised, Edgeworth stirs. He rises from his chair, matching Wright’s stature. His eyes are steel daggers pinning Wright to the floor, as if the weight of Edgeworth’s presence wasn’t heavy enough to incapacitate him.

“Then,” Edgeworth says, and the simple, single syllable draws Wright tight like a bowstring.

“Then?” Wright asks.

Edgeworth approaches. Wright’s breath feels crowded in his chest.

“Then you won’t mind,” Edgeworth starts, and his lips form the finish against Wright’s mouth.

Relief is the first wave to crash against Wright’s sensibilities, and with it brings clarity that lasts all of two seconds before the wave of fire crashes in after. Edgeworth is cool steel that does nothing to calm Wright’s flames—the phoenix dragged out of the ashes Wright hadn’t known had settled. Edgeworth is a beast tamer, and Wright the beast, constantly at the whims of his master.

It’s a short moment of contact, perhaps even chaste. And yet, Wright can feel fire licking at his nerves; he can feel lava pour into his joints and cool all too rapidly; and suddenly, he is a statue of stone, fixed in place as Edgeworth circles him with his eyes.

“You’re right,” Wright says. “I didn’t mind.”