#he is so scruffy i luv him so so much

[kylejsugarman]

check out this epic swag quirked up jesse that the one and only royce @kyub3d did for me!!! dont u want to pick this guy up by the scruff of his neck??

[captainfern]

MARIGOLD PREQUELLLLLLLLLLLLLL 🙌🙌🙌🙌🙌🙌🙌🙌🙌🙌🙌🙌🙌🙌

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Marigold - Prequel

dbf!Captain John Price x fem!reader

[“Marigold” by Nirvana]

[18+]

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• summary - where it all began with you and price, your dad's best friend. oh and the first time you fuck lol. • rating - 18+ • wordcount - 6.9k [hehe] • warnings - fem!reader, dad’sbestfriend!price, age gap [whatever you want it to be as long as it's legal lmao], f!masturbation, m!masturbation, unprotected piv, soft!price/gentle!price, oral [f!&m!receiving], PRAISE, breeding kink?, strong language

thank you all for the support on this little series that's also not really a series lol. lots of luv <3

unedited but enjoy anyway lol

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In all seriousness, you had rats to thank for starting you and Price's relationship.

No, seriously.

Rats.

"Honey, you remember my mate John, don't you?" Your dad asked one evening as the two of you settled in for dinner.

You looked up from your plate of food, fork suspended half-way to your mouth.

"Price?" You queried, before sticking the forkful of food in your mouth and chewing thoughtfully as your dad replied with a nod.

"Yeah, Price," your dad said. "He's going to be staying with us for a few days while his house gets bombed."

You blinked, shocked. "...bombed?"

Your dad laughed. "Not actually bombed. Pest-bombed. Over his last deployment, rats got into his cupboards and ripped the place up, so it'll be a week of exterminators and contractors until his house's back to normal."

You put another forkful of your dinner into your mouth.

Price had been your dad's best mate since, like, forever. They had served together in the military, and remained in contact even when your dad retired when you were young. You remember seeing Price a lot when you were younger, but after your dad's retirement, the time they spent together got less and less.

Embarrassingly, you remember the last time you had a good look at him and you realised that, oh my god, he's hot. Not long ago, a year or so maybe, when he popped around for your dad's birthday in between deployments. He was polite to you, and nice, but you couldn't help but stare.

His muscular back, strong shoulders, forearms lined with veins. He was fresh out of a deployment with dishevelled hair and a scruffy beard and you just couldn't help but feel a little warm.

But it was a crush. Something stupid, anyway.

"Why's he staying here?" You asked. "Why not just stay at a hotel or something?"

"I invited him," your dad told you. "It'd be nice for us to catch up, anyway. And it'll be good for him to relax before he has to head back to work."

You accepted that answer. Your dad deserved to spend some time with his old friend, and it wouldn't make sense to challenge that. So, after dinner and once you'd helped your dad with the dishes, you both worked together to set up the guest room.

A couple of hours later, the doorbell rung.

You were lounging on the couch, some trashy reality show echoing around the living room. Your dad got off the couch and headed out into the hall, opening the front door.

You knew who it was going to be, so you weren't surprised hearing your dads excitable chatter as he greeted his old friend and welcomed him into the house. You listened as, after a few minutes, their footsteps drew into the living room, and you made the effort to pause the show you were watching and cast your eyes across the room.

"Say hi to Price, honey." Your dad smiled, gesturing to the man beside him.

You smiled, offering a small wave. "Hi, Price."

Holy fuck.

Holy fuck.

It had been about a year since you had seen Captain John Price in person and oh my god. He was still attractive. So much so that butterflies began fluttering around in your stomach, and you felt your body growing hot beneath his gaze.

He was still as fit as ever. Military-style fit, too. Strong shoulders and arms, lean torso, strong legs too. Big hands enclosed around the handles of two black duffel bags. He wore a beanie, and his facial hair was, like you remembered, a bit on the messier-side. You wondered whether he'd shave it, or clean it up tomorrow.

Then, he greeted you with your name. A deep voice, all rich and warm like the cigar smoke and cologne he smelt of. Your name on his tongue made your stomach pinch with some kind of giddy nerves. It sounded nice. He smelt nice, too. He looked nice.

Holy fuck.

Did... did you fancy your dad's best friend?

You physically shook your head to yourself as you looked away and your dad led Price upstairs. A stupid crush, that's all. You stared blankly at the TV, not even resuming your show. You just stared at the paused frame of blurred colours, your mind running away from you.

And you didn't know if you'd be able to catch it.

•º•

The next morning, you and your dad were both up early for work. You ate breakfast at the table, scrolling tiredly through your phone like you usually did until the sleepiness left your system.

Your dad was humming to himself in the kitchen, fixing himself a cup of tea and his second lot of toast (the first lot he had burnt).

The stairs creaked in the early morning silence, and both you and your dad looked up as Price appeared in the doorway of the kitchen in– oh my fucking god– no shirt.

He'd trimmed his facial hair, too. It was neat against his cheeks and above his full lips, and you couldn't help but imagine what it'd feel like–

No. Stop it.

He greeted your dad, then looked momentarily surprised to see you sitting at the table. He bid you good morning, then loitered uneasily in the doorway, eyes flicking to your dad.

"Sorry, d'you want me to put on a shirt?" Price chuckled, and your dad laughed back, shaking his head.

"Nah, mate, you're all right. Half the time I'm walking around here with no shirt on anyway, so she won't mind, will you, honey?" Your dad turned to you, and so did Price.

You tried your best to ignore Price, looking directly at your dad.

"I don't care," you said as casually as you could muster. "At least he's not wearing a fluffy pink dressing gown."

Your dad rolled his eyes, scoffing. "Don't make fun of my pyjamas, kid. I got it from Marks and Spencer for about thirty quid."

You shook your head in amusement, sparing a glance at Price as you turned back to your phone. Maybe you shouldn't have, because those stupid butterflies appeared in your stomach again.

You caught a glimpse of his abs, faint but chiselled lines along his abdomen. The brush of hair across his chest, and the happy-trail leading down into the waistband of his flannel pyjamas. His arms were so big too.

Okay, seriously. Stop it.

•º•

You got home from work late that evening, the house dark and curtains open. You did your usual routine, going around the house and pulling the curtains so you could turn on the lights. You paused outside the guest bedroom though, deciding against going in, and instead moving on.

You showered quickly, then moved downstairs. Sometimes, you'd cook dinner for your dad, and that's what you decided to do tonight.

Half way through cooking, ingredients strewn across the kitchen, the front door opened. You were expecting your dad, but when Price walked into the kitchen, you hoped you didn't look too shocked to see him.

"Oh, hi, Price," you greeted. "How's your day been?"

He smiled softly at you. Politely.

"Not bad," he said, sliding into one of the barstools across the kitchen island. "You?"

You shrugged. "Work's shit, but it is what it is."

His smile continued, and he watched you cook for a moment. You were acutely aware of the way his eyes watched you, watched the movement of your hands, the movement of your body around the kitchen, the concentrated expression on your face.

"You like to cook?" He asked you eventually, melodic voice punctuating the borderline unnerving silence.

"I like cooking for my dad," you said. "I mean, I'm no chef, but my dad seems to like it."

Price cocked his head, taking in the range of ingredients that were spread out across the kitchen counter, as well as ingredients splashing along the marble surface.

"You like making a mess, too, by the looks of it." Price said jokingly, gesturing to the various kinds of sauces and baking agents smeared over the countertop.

The sentence was innocent enough, but it made your heart hammer faster for some reason. Maybe it was the smooth baritone of his voice, or the fact Price said it. Either way, the pace of your heart quickened within your ribcage as you bent down to place your creation in the oven.

You stood up once the food was in the oven, brushing your sticky hands across your apron. Price was still looking at you, and he laughed at the state of your apron.

"So messy." He tutted.

Butterflies. Fucking hell.

"It's a new recipe," you said quickly before your body could betray you and render you speechless. "I'm usually not this messy, I promise."

He just hummed curiously at that.

When your dad got home not long later, dinner was ready. You, him and Price sat down for dinner, and your dad was like a growing teenage boy shovelling the food gratefully into his mouth. You wondered how he wasn't burning the roof of his mouth.

"This is great, honey," your dad said through a mouthful of food and you tried not to laugh. "Thanks."

"That's okay," you smiled ruefully. "I'm glad it's at least edible."

Price chimed in. "It's great, sweetheart. You did well."

Sweetheart.

You did well.

"Oh, thanks..." You muttered. Butterflies again.

•º•

The next couple of days were much the same.

The three of you would wake up at relatively the same time, having breakfast together and talking about the day ahead. Then you'd all head off, you and your dad to work, and Price to... well, who knows. Then, you'd get home at the end of the day and, surprisingly energised, you'd cook for your dad and Price.

Price would get home before your dad, by at least an hour. He'd watch you cook, chatting to you about anything and everything you wanted to talk about. He was attentive when you spoke, or when you yammered on about something that made you excited. He'd listen with a smile, asking you questions about your interest that had you spiralling happily again. You somehow almost burnt your pasta the last time you were telling him about your favourite movie.

Then, your dad would get home and you'd all eat dinner. The conversation was pleasant. But most of the time, you sat silently and listened to Price and your dad talk about the, quote, "good old days". Listening to military stories was also on the agenda. Not that you minded. It was nice seeing your dad happy.

After dinner, you'd do the dishes. Price offered to take over, and you refused. He struck a deal though, your dad helping too, and the three of you made it a military-style regime to wash the dishes and get them away in record speed. You laughed at the goofiness of it all, and how Price ordered your dad around. Your dad would salute and march around the kitchen with a stack of plates in his hands, making you and Price laugh.

But it was nighttime where things differed.

You'd say goodnight to Price and your dad. Sometimes, they were still awake in the living room, or maybe in the kitchen. Other times, they'd retired long before you. Either way, you'd find yourself beneath the covers of your bed, the silence of the night drowning you.

Of the almost four nights Price had stayed, you'd gone to sleep with him on your mind each time. Three of those four nights were all fluffy and cozy and warmth-inducing. Images of him in your head, being so nice to you, being so polite. Such a gentleman. It didn't take long to fall asleep with a content smile on your face.

Tonight was the outlier though.

You'd manage to fend off the nighttime bombardment of butterflies on previous nights. But tonight, they returned with a vengeance. Your stomach was swarming with them at each thought of your dad's best friend. Flipping and swooping with nerves, your body growing hot. But with this warmth came an ache that made you scold yourself.

Stop it.

But you couldn't.

Price's handsome face– glimmering eyes, full lips, neatly trimmed facial hair. His body– the abs, the hair, the muscles. Damn.

You whined softly to yourself, the ache in between your legs intensifying, something pulling tight in the base of your tummy.

You just couldn't help it.

Another quiet whine on your lips, you impatiently shoved your hand beneath your pyjamas. Your middle finger made contact with your clit, puffy and swollen with your arousal, and you sucked in a breath when you began to circle it gently.

The relief was almost immediate, the tight feeling in the base of your stomach drawing tighter. Your body hummed with warmth as you sped up the movement of your circles, pleasure creeping through your veins. You probably didn't even need to fuck yourself. Judging by the way your body was reacting, you were close enough with just the attention to your clit. So, so sensitive.

You sunk your teeth into your bottom lip to keep yourself quiet, small moans and airy whimpers caught in the base of your throat. Your skin was becoming dewy with sweat, your legs beginning to shake as your finger pressed and drew shapes across your little bundle of nerves.

In your mind, flashing images of Price. Everything about him, physically and not. His voice, his words–

"So messy."

"You did well."

"Sweetheart."

A desperate whimper fell past your lips, your back arching, clit pressing tighter against your finger, hand beginning to ache. Your thighs trembled, heart-rate spiking as the coil in your stomach balled the tightest it had been all night, before it snapped.

"Price." You whispered into the darkness of your room as you came. It hit you hard, too. Sparks floating behind your eyelids, your entire body trembling against the mattress as your cunt spasmed around nothing, your clit pulsing in time with the beating of your heart.

You came down from your high with a wave of embarrassment crashing over you, and you broke the surface of it with a gasp and a frustrated sigh. You kicked off your blankets, burning up, sticky with sweat.

"Fuck..." You whimpered, eyes suddenly pricking with tears.

Maybe this wasn't just some stupid crush anymore.

•º•

Price heard you that night.

It was an accident.

He couldn't sleep after hours of pacing his room. So he ducked downstairs, grabbed himself a glass of water, and drank it whilst staring into the darkness. After, he rinsed the glass clean and dried it, putting it back in the cupboard, and then making his way back upstairs.

In his efforts of trying to be quiet, he heard you. Creeping past your room, he paused when he heard the soft creaking of your bed and a soft sigh escape beneath the small gap beneath the door. He cursed himself, initially believing he'd woken you up. But the more he listened, the more his cheeks began to heat up, and his cock began to stir in his pyjama pants.

It was wrong.

But you sounded so fucking pretty. Touching yourself, sighing and whimpering, trying so hard to be quiet. He wondered how you were touching yourself, how fucking wet you were.

His chest tightened in shame. What the hell was he doing? His best friend's daughter of all people?!

But he couldn't move. Not when the mattress shifted, the bed frame creaked, and a few more airy whines flew out of your mouth before you were whimpering his name.

His fucking name.

"Price."

He could've come right then and there.

He held out, gritting his teeth and shuffling silently back down the hall and into his room. He closed the door as quietly as he could and found himself sitting on the edge of the bed, taking his cock out of his pyjamas.

Already painfully hard and sensitive, he fucked it in his fist dry at first. The pre-cum dribbling from his slit made the movements glide after a moment, and he was quick to start moaning under his breath. He'd always been good at remaining silent with these types of things. But with you in his head, your whimpers in his head, he was trying desperately and almost failing to keep quiet.

Price stroked his cock, thinking about you. His best friend's daughter. He felt guilty. Dirty.

But it was no match for the feelings of lust and pleasure. He grit his teeth, trapping a moan between his molars as he circled the tip of his cock, more pre pearling at the slit. He imagined it being your pretty cunt, so wet and tight.

He grunted, tightening his grip, and then had to restrict another warbled groan. His balls tightened, stomach quivering as he came in a sudden hot spurt, coating his fingers and thighs. He jerked himself through it until his tip was flushed an angry red and he was on the verge of overstimulation.

"Christ..." He muttered, looking down at the mess he'd made.

He wanted to make a mess of you.

•º•

You didn't make dinner the next night after work. You were too tired, and you knew your dad would be sympathetic. So instead, you opted to have a nice, long shower. And by long, you meant long. You scrubbed yourself clean of the day's extremities, leaving you to smell really, really good.

It was much later by the time you got out, dressing into your pyjamas. You went downstairs. You'd probably just eat some leftovers, or dig something out of the freezer. Entering the kitchen, you were taken aback to see Price sitting at the kitchen island, arms folded along the marble surface. He looked up as you entered.

"Oh, hey, Price." You greeted, heading for the fridge.

His mouth curled into a small grin. "You can call me John, you know."

"Eh," you opened the fridge, your back to him. "I like Price. John make's you sound old."

"Is that so?" He cocked his head at you, watching you dig through the fridge. "Do I look old?"

You threw him a look over your shoulder. "Not really."

"Not really?" He chuckled.

"Mhm. The beard makes you look older."

He stroked his face while you pulled out some leftover pasta, closing the fridge and placing the container on the counter near the microwave.

"I like it, though." You told him with a smile, and your brain didn't quite register what you said until you were beginning to reheat your pasta.

"You like it?"

Fuck.

Damn it.

"It... suits you, yeah." You said shyly, not making eye contact. Your body was growing warm. It might as well have been you in that microwave by the way your skin was heating.

Silence filled the kitchen until the microwave began to beep. You took out your steaming pasta and dropped it noisily on the countertop.

You could feel his eyes on you, and it made your heart race. But it was racing in a good way. The way he looked at you, the way he made you feel, was something you'd never experienced before.

Slowly, you turned to look at him. He was looking at you, eyes soft and deep and warm and everything you wanted. It was like he was waiting for you to speak– waiting for you to open your mouth and tell him everything you wanted too. It's like he knew.

The butterflies were back.

You chewed nervously on your bottom lip, and Price's eyes followed the movement.

"Not making dinner tonight?" He asked you, voice smooth, eyes still on your mouth.

You shook your head. "No... sorry."

"Don't apologise, sweetheart."

You wanted to scream into a pillow or something. Sweetheart? Did he want you to have a fucking heart attack?

"Are you hungry?" You asked.

His eyes flicked up to yours. "Yeah."

You felt guilty. "Did you want me to cook–?"

"No," he said simply. "No, don't worry about that. I don't need food."

You cocked your head and he watched you do so. Confused, you frowned, sucking your bottom lip back into your mouth. Once again, his eyes darted downwards to catch the movement, his eyes flashing.

"Then what do you want?" You asked him, and deep down you already knew. Somehow, you knew what he wanted.

And you wanted it too.

Price got to his feet, casually rounding the kitchen island until he was standing beside you in the kitchen. You turned, your lower back pressed up against the adjacent countertop as he approached you slowly. You craned your neck to look up at him, your heart hurting from how hard it was beating inside you.

"I want you to be honest with me, okay?" He said softly, his voice comforting. "D'you want me to touch you how you touched yourself last night?"

Your entire body was on fire. Every nerve, every blood vessel was blistering hot. Your shame was the gasoline. But your lust was the fucking spark.

You let out a breath, a whine mingling with it. You averted your eyes, looking away. Immediately, a large hand gently took hold of your chin and guided your head back upwards, lightly guiding eye contact.

"It's okay, sweetheart, I promise," he told you in a whisper, the caring look in his eyes soothing the flames within you. "I want you to tell me. I want you to be honest."

For a moment, your lower lip trembled. A mix of embarrassment and arousal was confusing your brain.

You swallowed thickly. "Yes..."

"Yeah? You want me to touch you like you touched yourself? Make you feel good?" He probed, careful not to raise his voice above a whisper. "You want me to take care of you, sweetheart? It's okay, you can tell me."

You nodded. "Yes please."

The hand Price had on your chin moved to cradle the back of your head as he leaned down, his face hovering just above yours. His eyes scanned your features, his other hand moving to hold your waist.

"Can I kiss you?" Price asked, the words brushing over your own lips.

"Yeah..." You whispered, breathless from your impatience.

He smiled, then kissed you. It was so gentle and warm and everything you'd thought about the night before. It wasn't rushed or rough in anyway. He was taking his time– smoothing his lips against yours, cradling your head, slipping his tongue along the seam of your lips. You opened for him, your tongue meeting his, the kiss deepening.

He pressed you further into the countertop and you arched, chest meshing with his. His tongue was solid against yours, and you whined into his mouth, your hands moving to clasp the back of his head, fingers delving into his soft hair.

The hand on your hip pulled your pelvis flush with his. You groaned when you felt him hardening against your lower stomach, and Price pulled out of the kiss with a light squeeze to the back of your head.

"Feel that, sweetheart?" He said breathlessly, leaning himself heavier against you. "Feel how much I want you."

He took your hand in his, letting go of your head. He guided your hand between your bodies, and you took initiative in pressing your palm flat to the front of his jeans. He groaned, head flopping forward to rest on your shoulder. You palmed the solid imprint of his cock, your core throbbing at the muffled grunts eliciting from his throat.

"Price...?" You whispered, and he groaned again.

"Fuck... yeah?"

"I want you."

He groaned for the third time, low and breathy, before he pulled away from you. He grasped your hand, before dragging you out of the kitchen and towards the stairs. You giggled, giddy with excitement, as he led you upstairs.

"Your room or mine?" Price asked, bending down to kiss you again.

You pulled away, and he proceeded to kiss a wet trail down the bare expanse of your neck. "Mine..." You said, backing towards your room and urging him inside.

He closed the door behind you as you flopped onto your bed. You grinned when he followed you, crawling over top of your body and slotting himself against you, kissing you again. He licked into your mouth as you tugged and pulled at his hair.

A minute later, Price was crawling back down your body until he rested between your legs. He took hold of your pyjama pants and pulled them down, discarding them, while you threw your t-shirt off. You unclipped your bra and tossed it across the room when Price hooked his fingers beneath the waistband of your underwear.

He looked up at you. "Is this okay?"

"This is perfect, Price."

He took a deep breath as he pulled your underwear down your legs, so slowly you thought about kicking him. But you didn't. His eyes were transfixed on your core, his mouth agape.

"Christ," he muttered, flinging your underwear away. He ran two fingers slowly up your slit, collecting your arousal, before drawing them into his mouth. He moaned around his fingers. "S'fucking perfect."

You whined as he tucked himself between your legs, his breath fanning over your glistening core.

"Watch me, sweetheart." He told you as he languidly licked a stripe up your slit, before latching his lips around your clit.

Your eyes rolled, but his words forced you to maintain eye contact. You watched his lower face disappear between your legs, his eyes hooded and locked onto yours as he ate you out.

He circled your clit with his tongue, his top teeth brushing lightly against the nerves. Your body jolted, a moan falling out of your mouth, before his tongue was laving over you once more. He then dragged his tongue in a zig-zag motion downwards until he circled your cunt. You whimpered loudly when he pushed his tongue inside you.

He grunted with each movement of his tongue, eyelids threatening to close each time more of your arousal trickled into the back of his throat. Your thighs were warm around his head, squishy against his ears. He couldn't help but grab a fistful of the flesh in his hands, kneading contently as he fucked his tongue into you.

You were on cloud-nine. His tongue was warm and solid inside you, your stomach fluttering with a build-up of pleasure. You reached a hand down, the other balled in your sheets, and grasped his hair, still maintaining eye contact. You moaned, the sound making Price groan into your cunt.

"P-Price, sir, m'gonna come." You told him desperately as your impending climax began warming your body, thighs growing tighter around his head.

The word sir made Price moan into your cunt and redouble his efforts, fucking his tongue into you at a renewed pace that made you sob out his name in pleasure. Your thighs shook against his head, your cunt fluttering around his tongue, arousal dribbling down the sides of his chin.

He was throbbing in his trousers, your noises and taste building his own arousal. His cock twitched painfully in the confines of his boxers and when you came, he almost came with you. Almost.

You came with a whiny "Price", pushing his head further into you. He licked you through it, dragging his tongue out of you once your hole stopped spasming, suctioning your swollen clit back into his mouth. You whimpered curses, pulling at his hair. He conceded, and detached his mouth.

"Feel good, sweetheart?" Price asked, kissing up your body as he crawled back over top of you.

You hummed your agreement, still fizzling down from your high.

After kissing along your breasts, Price slotted his mouth back to yours. You moaned when you tasted yourself on him, his face sticky against yours.

When he pulled back, his pupils were blown. "Tell me what you want, pretty girl."

"Want you." You whimpered, and he kissed you again.

He then stripped himself, discarding his clothes on your floor. When he removed his boxers, you tossed your head back and groaned. His hard cock bobbed up against his abdomen. A slight curve, a prominent vein along the underside, leading to a ruddy tip already leaking pre. You took hold of it, feeling the soft, velvety ridges against your palm.

Price hissed. "Sweetheart–"

"Can I use my mouth?" You asked, slowly starting to stroke his cock.

He groaned, head dropping back as if the words you said struck him across the face. He seemed to contemplate it for a moment, really thinking hard, as his eyes dropped down to yours.

"You don't have t–"

"I want too," you smiled, before you were pushing him off of you and slipping off the bed.

He watched you patiently, situating himself on the edge of the bed and planting his feet on the floor. He parted his legs, allowing you to settle between them. You took hold of his cock again, and his hips twitched, a sound like a whimper being whispered from the depths of his throat.

Price looked down at you, stroking your hair as you worked your hand up and down his length. His eyelids drooped when your fingers neared his tip, and when you worked them around the underside, he whispered your name in a pleasured sigh.

He continued stroking your head and face. "Are you sure you want to do this, sweetheart? You don't h–"

You shut him up by leaning forward and licking a stripe up his cock. He choked on his sentence, hand resting gently on the crown of your head as you licked him from base to tip. You kept one hand around the base of him, pumping as you worked your tongue up the vein on the underside of his cock.

He hummed a moan, something vibrating deep in his chest, primal almost, as he watched you. His eyelids had dropped, his pupils stretched wide, hips twitching each time your tongue skimmed the base of his tip. He was fucking leaking, now, and you wasted no time in cleaning him up.

Retaining eye contact, you wrapped your mouth around the tip and he moaned. A pretty, desperate sound that made your wet core flutter around nothing. You sunk deeper and deeper, taking more of him, until your mouth was stretched wide, your lips pressing against the side of your hand where you squeezed him. Price moaned again, head of his cock nudging the back of your throat. You gagged, pulling up slightly, and he let out a deep grunt.

"Easy, sweetheart, s'alright..." Price dragged out, hand warm on the top of your head.

Saliva dripped from the corners of your mouth in strings, smearing down his length as you brought your head up. You circled your tongue around his head again, swiping against the slit and making his hips buck. You withheld a smile and took him deeper again. You repeated this action a few times, until Price had left that tentative, almost nervous view behind him.

Now, he had a firm but guiding hold on the back of your head, groaning and panting as you sucked his cock. He urged you gently to take more of him, and you eventually removed your hand so more of him slid down your throat. You gagged, and he groaned and pulled back slightly, before repeating the action again anyway.

A hand to your head, he pulled your head all the way back until your lips wrapped around his tip. You looked him in the eyes, tears along your waterline, before he was pushing you back down.

"Yeah, that's my girl," He groaned as you took him all the way to the base. "Fuck, that's my girl. My good girl, baby, fuck."

You whimpered around his cock, the praise making your stomach flip and your cunt ache. Your arousal was physically dripping down the curve of your thighs, and you shivered.

Suddenly, his hips began twitching and his mouth dropped open, a breathless moan filtering out. He grabbed hold of the back of your neck and slowly pulled you away from his cock.

"I need you, sweetheart, come on." Price whispered when you whined, your mouth detaching from his cock with a wet pop.

You wiped the saliva away from your mouth with the back of your hand. "But–"

Price urged you to your feet, pushing you back onto the bed and flattening you against the mattress with his frame. You smiled at his desperation, feeling his wet cock against your inner thigh as he spread your legs with a squeeze to the backs of your knees.

He leaned down and kissed you. "I– fuck– I need to be inside you, sweetheart. Let me inside you. Please."

You'd never thought he'd be the type to beg. Holy shit.

You giggled nervously, kissing him again. Price groaned into your mouth, one large hand coming to hold the side of your face, caressing it gently. He then grabbed his cock near the base and guided it to your dripping cunt. He ran the tip up and down your folds a few times, making you mewl into his mouth, before tapping the head against your slick hole.

He broke the kiss, panting. "Oh fuck, I don't have a con–"

"Birth control," you said quickly, body writhing beneath his. "Please, just–"

His brows pinched together in light concern. "Okay, okay, but you need to stop me if I you–."

You were begging now. Desperate for him. "I'm okay, Price. Please, sir, just please–"

With a low grunt, Price pushed in slowly, the tip of his cock stretching you open. You moaned loudly, nails dragging down his muscled back as he slid more and more inside you, inch by inch. He groaned, caging your head between his arms, his eyes locked on your face, searching for any sign of hesitance. But he only found pleasure as your mouth dropped open and your eyelids flitted.

You were so tight around him, warm and wet. He closed his eyes for just a second. He was focussing on not coming straight away.

You mewled loudly when the tip of his cock nudged your cervix, his hips flush with yours. Your nails scraped down his back, and he grunted, dipping down to kiss you. The kiss was sloppy and messy, all tongue and no direction. He didn't move his hips, and the feeling of him inside you, warm and heavy, made you break the kiss with a moan.

"Price, oh my god." You breathed against his lips, hole clenching around his girth.

He groaned. "I know, sweetheart, I know."

You whimpered when his hips shifted, pelvis grinding against you. He paused, moving his head back to look at you.

"You okay?"

You nodded, humming your approval. "Mhm– yes, m'good, Price. Mmm feels so good– please don't stop, please–"

Gently, he pulled out until his tip was just barely inside you, his length and the hair at the base glistened with your arousal. Then, he was thrusting back into you, making you moan his name again.

"Fuck, that's it, good girl, sweetheart," he murmured, sucking a kiss to your jaw. "There you go, just take it... taking it so well, sweetheart."

You moaned, arching your back. The sounds of his thrusts were wet and loud in the silence of your room, accompanied by the slapping of skin and your mewls of pleasure.

"Feels like you were just made for me," Price whispered, cock bullying the plug of your womb, making your eyes roll. "Mhm... this pretty cunt was just made for my cock."

"Sir..." You dragged out through a moan, hands flailing to keep you grounded, dragging up and down the plains of his back. You wanted to say something else. It began slipping out of your mouth, "Cap–" before you stopped yourself.

Price groaned, slamming into you harder. "Yeah that's right, pretty girl. Call me captain, baby. S'your captain making you feel so good, yeah? S'your captain filling this tight cunt."

You moaned loudly. You hoped your neighbours weren't home. Your nails dug into his back as tight pleasure built up in the base of your abdomen. Your thighs were quivering, your entire body being consumed by him.

Price, Price, Price.

He slammed into you again and again, drawing more sounds from you. His body was warm over yours, solid and comforting and you almost wanted to sob. You felt so good. He was making you feel so good. Your dad's best friend. Fuck.

You couldn't help but whimper at that thought, your clit pulsing, sitting shiny and puffy. And it's like Price knew– he always seemed to know what you wanted. Still fucking you steadily, he reached downwards, dragging his hand down your body. The rough pad of his middle finger found your swollen clit, and you keened, sobbing out a moan as he applied pressure.

"S'that feel good, sweetheart?" He asked in a whisper, pressing tight circles as his hips worked his cock into you. "Is this what you needed? Wanted me to play with this pretty clit, is that it?"

Your eyes rolled, his words turning your brain to mush. "Y-yeah," you stuttered, tummy drawing up tighter, legs quivering faster against the mattress. "F-feels... g..."

You sentence was lost as his cock hit that spot inside you over and over again, making your blood pump hot and the base of your belly flood with a burning kind of pleasure that had tears falling from your eyes.

Price kissed your tears away as you moaned, arching your back, your tits pressing up against his chest.

"Captain, please–" you choked on a pleasured sob. "M'gonna–"

"S'alright, sweetheart, come for me," Price said softly, kissing a tear from your cheek. "Good girl. Come for me."

He shifted his head and kissed you deeply when you came. Your tongues pressing together as you trembled against him, cunt squeezing his cock. Your release made your body burn up, and you felt it drip hot and wet out of you, dribbling around the sides of his cock. You moaned his name into his mouth, and he swallowed it whole, continuing to rut into you.

"Good girl, good girl..." Price muttered, sucking your bottom lip into his mouth.

He moved his hand away from your clit, back up to the side of your head.

He released your lip when he groaned. "Fuck, m'not gonna last, sweetheart."

Dazed, you pressed your mouth to his again. It was sloppy and wet, uncoordinated through your post-orgasmic haze. He grunted against your tongue, thrusts losing rhythm as he neared his peak.

"Come for me, sir, please." You whispered into his mouth, and that sent him over the edge.

He groaned your name into your mouth, coming deep inside you. The warmth that filled you made you keen, and Price kept thrusting, panting with his lips brushing yours.

"Fuck, baby, fuck..." He whined, finally stilling inside you, plugging you full of him.

After a long moment of basking in each other's heat, he pulled out. You mewled as he sat on his ankles, watching his cum leak out of your dripping core. He gathered the mix on two fingers, shoving it back inside you with a satisfied grunt.

"So messy..."

•º•

Price cleaned you, applying a warm, damp cloth between your legs. He dressed you, too. While you were still laying down, he pulled your clothes back onto you– minus your bra, which you didn't want back on as that would've involved you actually sitting up– then he tucked you beneath the covers.

He placed a kiss to your forehead, before he ducked into the bathroom and cleaned himself up. When he returned to you, he put his clothes back on, and then leaned over to kiss you on the forehead again.

"You still hungry?" He asked, cupping your cheek and rubbing his thumb along your cheekbone.

You shook your head. "No... m'gonna sleep for a bit."

He smiled, kissing you briefly on the lips before leaving your room, closing the door behind him. He made his way downstairs and into the kitchen, your pasta sitting cold on the countertop. He tossed it back into the microwave and heated it up again. When he pulled it out, steam curling upwards, the front door opened.

Price felt a pang of guilt in the depths of his stomach, just briefly, before his mind was flooded with images of you, and he was desperately trying not to get hard again.

Your dad walked into the kitchen, dumping his work gear near the dining table.

"Hey, mate," your dad said with a smile. "Good day?"

Price couldn't help but smile, disguising it by stabbing a fork into the past and bringing it towards his mouth. "Yeah, mate, really good. You?"

Your dad continued on about his day, telling Price animatedly about his activities at work. Once he'd concluded his story, he looked around pointedly. "Where's our chef?"

Price laughed. "No chef today, mate. She's in bed."

"Oh, strange. Rough day at work, probably," your dad said. "She's a good girl, you know. I'm really proud of her."

Price smiled. He couldn't help but agree.

•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•

was this ok? idek lol

[ohsangwoosbat]

Hold Me Gently;

Arno Dorian x Jacob Frye

[written by me]

——— ≪•◦ ❈ ◦•≫ ———

As the sky grew darker, and the frigid wind gushed up against the window panes; Arno sat in the living room, slowly growing more worried on where the hell his fiancé was.

Checking his treasured pocket-watch, he saw that it was almost 11:00PM… Jacob would’ve usually arrived at around an hour and a half ago- “Où est-il?”, he questioned in his native tongue; a tell-tail sign that he’s anxious… Arno was no stranger to losing someone he loves, and so the mere thought of Jacob being harmed, sent a cold shiver down his spine.

Sighing, he stood from his seat and folded his newspaper neatly, before walking over to the coatrack and grabbing his coat… He draped the hood over his head, and made his way out into the wintry night. With heavy steps, his boots collided with the concrete paving of the street; little clouds of steam erupting from his mouth as he breathed out a stressful sigh- He was afraid— they got into an argument that morning, and hadn’t seen each other since they both left for work straight after. The fight was about boundaries; how Arno constantly hovers over Jacob-

“Why do you need to know my whereabouts all the time?”, the British man questioned in an annoyed tone… “Why? Do I need a reason?”, he replied, eyebrows furrowed as he glared at the shorter male. Jacob huffed out in disbelief- To him, it seemed like Arno didn’t trust him; whether it be his intelligence, or his loyalty… All his life, he had been deemed by others as “irresponsible” and “unintelligent”- He was constantly looked down on, as nobody expected much from him… So Arno wanting to know his every move all the time, made him feel as though his fiancé thought he’d be causing trouble or maybe even being unfaithful. The thought hurt him, deeper than any wounds he could be inflicted…

“Fine then- fuck off from here and see if I care!”, the taller male spat harshly, before grabbing his coat and heading out the front door. He hadn’t seen or heard from Jacob since then, and was scared he’d made him do something rash… Quickening his pace, he turned the corner sharply; Jacob’s usual route home. The streets were dull as melancholy filled the crisp air, fog clouding Arno’s vision… “je ne peux pas faire ça-“, he breathed out before grabbing ahold of the brick wall, scaling it with ease. He graced the rooftops; boots clinking against the tiles as he scanned around for any sign of Jacob… He was being eaten by this overwhelming feeling that something bad had happened— his fiancé’s mission got out of hand, and now he’s bleeding out somewhere-

And after about an hour of searching; his suspicions were confirmed when he spots a man slumped against a chimney. “Jacob!”, he bellowed, a sudden rush of energy shooting through the veins in his legs… Tears formed in the corners of his almond eyes, his hood flying off from impact of the strong wind. The younger man clutched at his side, blood staining his coat… “Oh christ-“, he squatted down next to him; eyes assessing the wound as Jacob breathed heavily. “A-Arno?”, he grunted while trying to move— a pair of large hands holding his actions firmly, yet still quite gently.

“Move your hand for me”, he instructed with icy lips, removing his tie. He wrapped it around Jacob’s waist tightly; trying his best to stop the blood flow… “I-I’m alright, luv”, the scruffy male exhaled, his eyebrows furrowed and jaw tense from the pain— he was yet again, trying not to worry his lover… “Alright?! do you think I’m dumb or something?!”, Arno replied with widened eyes, moving his hand to gently press against the younger man’s forehead. Despite the cold weather, Jacob was burning up— he’s getting a fever- Arno removed his hand as he stared into the chocolate orbs of his lover, tears blurring his vision a little… Jacobs eyes widened at the sight, his heart feeling like it was just stabbed with the hidden blades of an assassin- “No no, no! d-dont cry- I’ll be f-fine”, he tried reassuring the taller male, lips curving up ever-so-slightly in a desperate attempt to cover up his agony.

Although the sight of Jacob like this tore his heart to shreds; this wasn’t the time for emotions. He had to get Jacob home, fast. Arno had acquired the medical knowledge of sewing and stitching up wounds over the years, and he knew that it’s too risky to try find a doctor at this hour… so it was decided. Turning around slightly while still crouching, the French man slung his lovers arms over his shoulders— he opted for carrying him on his back… “A-Arny?”, Jacob questioned hazily; head slumped against the broad shoulder of Dorian. “shh… I’ve got you.”, he reassured, gripping onto the bottom of the small males thighs, standing… And with that, he swiftly glided over the rooftop tiles— careful not to slip.

——— ≪•◦ ❈ ◦•≫ ———

The fireplace crackles softly as it burns the oaken wood that was stacked inside it. Wind hitting vengefully against the steamed-over window panes; jaw clenched as he hissed… “fuck-“, he grunted, squeezing his eyes shut while Arno searched for the bullet with the correct tools, trying his best not to worsen the injury. Finally, he finds the metal pod, pulling it out and placing it down on the bedside table… The taller man sighed out in relief, hands still perfectly steady, despite his teetering emotional state. “good thing I’m engaged to a doc, huh?”, the Brit remarked playfully, but still out of breath; a small smile gracing Arno’s lips at the sound of his words… But his smile soon faded, turning into a look of hesitation. “Okay, this is the worst part…”, he winced down at Jacob, grabbing the bottle of whiskey. Even knowing the agony he was about to cause, he knew he had to clean the wound-

“Don’t worry, I-I can handle it- fuck!”, eyes instinctively squeezing shut, Jacob groaned out— every new wipe of the whiskey causing a sharp pain in his lower abdomen… A string of curse words slurred amidst the crackling flame, but Arno continued nevertheless… He scoffed mockingly, pressing the alcohol-soaked wipe harder against the bruised skin. “Oh? handle it, you say…”, he smirked, finding Jacobs fake confidence highly amusing… A huff erupting from the Brits chapped lips; eyebrows knitting together with a pout. “Oh, fuck off mate-“, he hissed, wiggling a little under Arnos hands— having had enough of this alcoholic torment.

Smiling softly to himself, Arno felt extremely relieved that he was able to find his fiancé… Jacob caught glimpse of that smile, while peaking one eye open; the sight more potent than any drug- The way his soft lips curved ever-so-slightly at the corners— how his stubbled face, managed to look so handsome even with the severe lack of sleep he gets… Before he could even stop himself, the smaller male uttered the words he was thinking in that moment-

“You’re beautiful”, his voice was raspy; partly from his injury, and partly from the sheer amount of nicotine he consumed… The words caught Arno completely off-guard, his face dusting a pale shade of rose pink… “excuse me?”, he questioned, as if he was hallucinating the first time. Jacob’s eyes widened at his own words, did he really just say that out loud? “i uh, well i um-“ he stumbled to explain his sudden compliment, sounding like a babbling fool. He was a natural flirt, but sometimes he’s so taken aback by the sheer beauty held by the man before him, that he can’t help but stumble like a schoolboy—embarrassing, really..

Suddenly, the memories of this morning made their way back into the shorter man’s head; the air growing tense and cold, despite the fire in front of them. He still felt like he wasn’t trusted, like he’s a child whom needs supervision.. It’s how his father treated him, albeit being mostly absent, and his sister has treated him for as long as he can remember. Eyes darkening, he averted his gaze from his lover, reaching out for the whiskey bottle that Arno had just used to disinfect his wound. The french man noticed this, a pang sounding in his heart as he stared upon his beloved, his usually bubbly energy nowhere to be seen in this moment..

“Why do you not trust me? Why does nobody ever believe in me?..” the words escaped Frye’s lips, quiet and somber; Arno had never seen Jacob like this before, the sight saddening him as his eyes widened. “What on earth do you mean?! of course i trust and believe in you.. why would you think otherwise?”, he questioned in confusion, eyebrows furrowed upset. The brit finally looked up into his dark brown orbs, tears pricking at the corners of his own.

“Evie never trusted me, nobody has.. always needed to know where i was and what i was doing, so i don’t fuck up the mission-“ he begin, taking another swig of the alcohol grasped in his shaky hand. “what? do you think i’m gonna screw up and get someone killed? or do you perhaps think i’m an unfaithful hog?”

as soon as these words left his chapped lips, the taller males eyes softened, tears forming in them and threatening to fall down his stubbled cheeks. He got hit with the sad realisation that the one he loves so dearly, had bottled up all his fears, all his sadness and all his questions, just to avoid burdening others— he had finally exploded this morning; his heart couldn’t hold anymore and it came pouring out. And what did Dorian do? He told him to fuck off, then slammed the door in his face- Oh, how his heart ached in this moment..

“Bon Dieu, no-!” he exclaimed with a shaky voice, reaching his cold hand up to his lovers cheek to stroke it gently, wiping the hot tear that had slipped from his eyes. Jacob’s cheek was warm against his icy touch, but the smaller didn’t mind. “I only want to know your whereabouts all the time, cause of nightmarish situations like today- what if i couldn’t find you?! what if i got there too late?!”, streams of hurt flowed down to his chin, “i- i don’t know what i’d do with myself…” voice barely coming to a whisper at that point, he looked down and his other hand which was in his lap.

As if on reflex, Frye put down the bottle in his hand, instantly grabbing the man in front of him by each side of his face. Due to his past events and experiences with others, it had never crossed his mind that Arno Dorian, his stern and professional fiancé, would be scared of losing him. “Shhh, hey? look at me, luv” his voice was soft and low, like dark chocolate melting over all anxiety that lingered in the air around them. Hesitantly, the taller of the two met his gaze, vision blurred while he bathed in the warmth of his beloved’s smile; plump lips chapped, yet still so welcoming.

“I’m sorry i made you think otherwise..” he hiccuped, cupping his hand over the calloused on on his right cheek, stroking it with his thumb. His eyes, apologetic and soft, making the organ in Jacob’s chest ache horribly. Without thinking, he leaned forward, grasping soft lips into his own. It was as if this were the only way he could explain that it’s truly okay, and his thoughts were confirmed as he felt Arno melt into the kiss.

Parting lips, their breath fanned against each others faces as their noses remained touching— “you won’t lose me, darling”, he smiled softly, “i’ll make sure of it.”

~the end~

(thank u for reading♡)

[stvnszlr]

HEYYYYYY i was wondering if you could write some fluff for Steven pls :33🫶 luv your blog btw

um …. so i got absolutely completely carried away with this one … and may or may not have written an entire 1.7k words ……

apologies in advance if this isn’t what you were intending with this ask 😭 i’m primarily a gen fic writer , so i turned this into a completely solo steven adventure !

even still , i hope you enjoy steven befriending a lost dog :) typical poppy !

The rumble of rubber wheels on uneven concrete thundered down the sidewalk…

…interrupted by loud, rhythmic clacking over each gap in the walkway. Steven took a foot off his board to give himself a good push, speeding faster past the chattering school kids with shopping bags under their arms and businessmen in suits wearily making their way home. 

The breeze whipped through his long hair, lifting the wavy, blond strands and twirling them around behind his head. A flat-brimmed hat smashed over the messy curls kept them slightly at bay, but not by much. The California sun beat down heavily on his back, his cheeks and shoulders already going rosy from its heat. 

Down the sidewalk he rolled, gaining speed with each thrust against the ground. He grinned as the buildings and people he passed turned to a blur, only a fleeting second in his vision before they were gone, already meters behind him.

He began to crouch lower, really leaning into the speed. His smile grew wider, his gaze narrowing as his focus intensified— but suddenly…

“AHHH!” Steven hollered, eyes flying open wide as he frantically swerved to avoid the sudden obstacle that had darted out in front of him. His board wobbled underneath him, and the drastic change in direction threw him from the sidewalk. He landed heavily on the curb, crying out in pain as his eyes squeezed shut tightly with a wince.

“Fuck…” he whined, arm reaching out to tenderly touch his side, where he’d hit the edge of the concrete. His other hand scratched at the back of his head, trying to center himself before easing his aching eyes open. “What the hell?” he grumbled, turning to look back at where his board had landed. What he didn’t expect to see instead, though, was a scruffy, underfed street dog staring right back at him with a wide, terrified gaze.

Steven’s own pain melted away in an instant as he took in the poor sight of the mutt in front of him. The dog was trembling, obviously quite shocked by the loud disturbance that had just taken place in front of it. Steven’s blue eyes widened with sympathy, and he began to sit up slowly as his mouth drooped into a pout. 

“Hey, puppy,” he murmured softly, turning his body to face the shuddering animal. “Good puppy… it’s okay,” he reassured softly. The dog didn’t move, but continued to stare at Steven, doubt and distress evident in its stance.

By now his skateboard was forgotten. Steven was completely concerned about the homeless pup he’d stumbled upon. He’d been in that position once, too— and a helpless dog deserved to suffer even less than he did.

He slowly eased himself into a crouching position, wincing a bit at the ache in his side but ignoring it for the time being. He took a small, hesitant step toward the terrified creature, but it quickly backed up as he tried to approach. Steven frowned, but stayed determined. Holding a hand out, he inched forward once again, trying his best to appear trustworthy.

“C’mon, man,” he pleaded desperately. He felt responsible for this dog, now! Especially after spooking it with his crash. Unfortunately, the dog wouldn’t be won over so easily. It seemed that its time on the streets had made it awfully skittish around people, and no matter how friendly Steven seemed, he’d need something more.

His face fell, the eagerness in his gaze crumbling. What else could he do if the pup wouldn’t even come near him?

Food! It’ll like food, won’t it? he pondered, the idea suddenly springing to mind. He stood from the ground, quickly jamming a hand in his pockets to dig around for spare change. Amidst the lint balls, wrappers, and occasional spare gumdrop… a quarter! One shiny, silver quarter. Steven held it up with glee, smiling at the sudden discovery.

He glanced back down at the dog, his brow furrowing. Pointing a finger, he commanded: “Stay.” The mutt tilted its head, appearing unsure and skeptical. “Stay here!” He begged, hoping somehow the dog would understand his intentions.

With one last forlorn glance at the pup, he scooped up his skateboard and turned to scan the street for the nearest convenience store. Only a few buildings down, a bright neon light flashed advertising cold beer, ice cream, and the like. His eyes lit up, and Steven took off down the sidewalk towards the shop, glancing back occasionally to make sure the dog hadn’t moved.

He ducked through the door, immediately relishing in the noisy rattle of the A-C that enveloped his sweat-soaked body with a rush of cool air. He swallowed, mouth suddenly feeling very dry out of the hot sun. No… he had to focus. What would a hungry stray like to eat?

He walked through the short aisles, contemplating cheap bags of candy and chips, but none of it sounded easy on a starving stomach. Probably wouldn’t smell too enticing, either. Scratching at the back of his neck, he continued to wander until he reached the dingy, dim corner at the very back.

Then, something caught his eye. A dented can of tuna— the last on the shelf— for only twenty cents. Perfect! His face lit up, and his cheeks spread into a proud smile as he snatched it from the rack. 

Rushing back up to the counter, Steven quickly set his item down in front of the disinterested cashier. The man turned to him, an eyebrow raised as he took in the disheveled appearance of the young kid in front of him, and his peculiar purchase.

Steven gave him a hesitant smile, not quite reaching his eyes. He glanced at the wall of cigarettes behind him, scanning the logos for a moment before turning back to the cashier.

“Um… how much for a pack of reds?” He asked shakily, placing his hands on the counter.

“Buck-ten,” the man grunted out, swiping the can of tuna off the counter and ringing it up for his total.

Steven cringed at the price. Spare change wouldn’t cover that— and the tuna was more important, anyway. “Uh— just this, then,” he mumbled sheepishly, looking down at his hands. He held out the quarter, and the man exchanged it for the can. “Thanks,” Steven muttered, his cheeks flushed as he turned tail and quickly raced back out the door.

He hurried down the street again, making long strides back toward where he’d left the dog. For a moment, he thought it had wandered away— but then he spotted it, hiding in the shadow of an overflowing trash can.

Steven crouched down again, a few feet away as to not scare it off. “Hey, bud,” he greeted cheerfully, setting the can of tuna down on the ground in front of him, and his skateboard to the side. “I got somethin’ for you, see?”

He glanced up at the pup, who continued to stare at him with wide, uncertain eyes. He slowly popped the tab on the can, peeling off the lid to reveal the fish inside. “Mmm… yummy, huh?” He said, attempting to sound enticing.

The dog perked up as the smell of the tuna wafted over, and it took a few hesitant steps forward. “Yeah, there you go!” Steven cheered, grinning as he watched the pup slowly crawl towards him.

As it reached the can, the mutt looked up at Steven before taking a careful bite. Quickly, the dog began scarfing down the food, and Steven sat back with a content grin. It was obvious the dog was really hungry, and he was happy to have satiated it for now. It didn’t take long for the pup to polish off the tuna, then lifting its head while licking its lips, staring at Steven full-on.

Cautiously, the drummer decided to hold out his hand again, inviting the dog to greet him. This time, rather than backing away, the dog came forward for a wary sniff. Steven watched with bated breath, trying to stay as still as he could to reassure the nervous pup.

Tentatively, it gave him a gentle lick across the palm. Then another, and another. Soon, it was nuzzling right into his hand, and Steven’s smile grew even wider. “You’re so sweet, aren’t you?” He cooed, feeling confident enough to scratch under its chin. The dog began to wag its tail, a slow back-and-forth at first before it was nearly whipping with enthusiasm.

Steven laughed, a bright, bursting chuckle of joy as the pup rubbed itself up against his leg. “Shit, you gotta have a name!” He exclaimed with glee, now fully stroking back the fur on the dog’s head. “How about…” he hummed to himself thoughtfully, watching as the pup nearly vibrated with excitement as Steven became more familiar.

“Buzz!” He cried out, his laughter doubling over. “You’re fuckin’ buzzing!”

He reached out his other hand, pulling the dog into his lap. Buzz happily complied, standing up on hind legs and balancing with paws on Steven’s chest to give him broad licks across his smiling cheeks. The blond grinned even wider, happily scratching Buzz all over while dodging the wet kisses.

“Geez!” Steven exclaimed between giggles, nearly overwhelmed by the sudden energy and acceptance from the previously shy dog. “Not shy now, are you?” Buzz responded with a sharp yip, and Steven’s eyebrows raised in surprise. Buzz seemed absolutely open to him now, and Steven felt himself becoming attached too.

“Alright. C’mon, buddy,” he laughed, pushing the pup down as he got to his feet. He reached down, scooping up Buzz under one arm and his skateboard in the other. Buzz wagged happily, curling into Steven’s warm, safe grasp. Steven looked down with an adoring gaze, a fuzzy, comforting feeling growing in his chest. He squeezed Buzz a bit tighter, wanting to hold the pup as close as he could. “Let’s go home.” 

[midasinc]

and feuilly/enjolras hcs I will luv u forever

i did a canon era post for them one time! i'll link that before modern stuffs :)

modern era feuilly/enjolras:

-ive been rlly thinking about doner shops recently, so i imagine that feuilly works at the doner shop that les amis meet in (turkish feuilly !) and he catches enjolras's eye very easily. he makes him a drink one day and enjolras has never really been interested in someone before, but this scruffy dude behind the counter who smiles when he rings him up is... omg

-anyway enj does all of these speeches and all of this charity where he's front and centre, but then suddenly he forgets how to talk to someone he likes. he has no idea how to talk to feuilly. he copes by buying like three sandwiches per meeting and feuilly is kinda just like (jesus this hot guy eats a lot) but enjolras is kind of just passing them off to his other friends. feuilly starts eavesdropping on their meetings and this sort of stuff affects him because of his own social standing and experiences with oppression so when he's clocking out one day, he sits next to joly and listens in. enjolras notices and sort of loses his train of thought, but gets back on track and feuilly thinks he's like a star. enjolras is incredible and he wants in (im not gonna say literally, but-)

-he introduces himself after the meeting and becomes a regular when he isn't working and he becomes a really good friend of enjolras. they're both really smart and have really deep, philisophical conversations and oh my god enjolras is so in love. he is so mf in love.

-they get together when feuilly looks over and enjolras is staring at his hand and his face is so red and he kind of gets that enj wants to take charge but can't, so feuilly just takes enjolras's hand and sort of turns their hang-sesh into a date. things are good after that

-enjolras is terrified of feuilly's snake but after a while at feuilly's house, he kind of gets over his fear of her and pats her smooth lil head and it's okay. he isn't obsessed with her, but they have a mutual understanding of each other

-when they're over at each other's places, feuilly still has his own concerns of saving money, so he's really insistent on sharing showers and turning off heat at night and cuddling instead and enjolras's brain stutters for a moment but oh my god yeah he doesn't mind

-enjolras also watches his nerd movies with feuilly and explains all of the lore and plot points to him and feuilly just kinda smiles and listens because seeing enjolras so into something is a joy. it's his favourite pasttime to hear enjolras talk about nothing

-it also surprises feuilly how big enjolras is on pda. he's not shy at all with his affection and loves to hold hands and kiss cheeks and wrap his arm around feuilly's waist or gently lead him through a crowd with a hand to the small of his back. enj likes 2 touch

-courf and combeferre have accepted this point that feuilly being over in the mornings is not that surprising and they're just kinda like "hey" and move past him making toast in the kitchen to make their coffee. it's nice to know that enj can actually get some

-they go to trivia nights at a bar because they're both so fucking smart and know so much random information. feuilly is really good at geography and history and enj is good at pop culture and business and together, they've won a ton of games. when they show up, the other regulars say their prayers bc baby, these two will absolutely destroy everything in their path

-feuilly is really good with his hands and likes to play with enjolras's hair when they're just hangin out and enjolras goes to get a drink with a ton of random little braids in his hair and he looks insane but it's cute

[lostxndbroken]

@thedemonconstantine​ continued from (HERE)

“Aye luv, tha’s it, just like tha’. Me gud wee lad,” John praised softly as he ran both hands through ashen locks, combing that short crop and massaging scalp as he went.

“Tha’s rite, Queen. Is me. I’m rite ‘ere wiff yeh,” He smiled at how his own name would flow from those lips like a clear river on a hot summer’s day, how those eyes that looked up to him was like the reflection of said minnow. How he’d drink from it then and his own soul to be revived and invigorated.

“Dun close yeh eyes. Look at me. Look.”

John caught that chin and lifted it then to have his lover meet his gaze, falling silent after for no words were deemed necessary now that he slowed his breathing to match Oliver’s. Steadily, softly, deeply.

“See me.”

To the little scruff around his chin, the faint scars from one too many barfights throughout his meandering life, to the rough tousle of his haystack hair and the dusting of freckles upon his sharp cheekbones that only showed in the summer. To his neck and collarbones too protruding too thin, to the missing piercing on his right earlobe and his heavily inked arms. Cigarette smoke, green veins, calloused hands, his thumbs now settled at the nape of Oliver’s neck. How he cradled that head and how quiet his voice had suddenly become.

“Woh do yeh see?”

There was a tempting sensation running over him to close his eyes when John’s fingers ran through his short cropped hair, the tips making stroking motions over his scalp. Yes, it was very tempting to close his eyes and feel what John was doing, but John told him not to close his eyes and thus he kept his gaze at the blonde.

A quarter grin formed for only a second or two, but he was still focused, his hues moving up, down, left and right as he took everything in. “I see I need to feed you better,” Oliver said. Then that little smirk disappeared again. “I see a rough life, a lot of fighting.” Which he didn’t need to see John for. He already knew this. Oliver’s eyes squinted a little, trying to look through that first layer of skin.

“I see the love of my life, as crazy as it sounds.” He let out a huff with a love struck smile, but he meant every word. “A man whose life has been anything but easy, but learned how to take things as they come. Bend along instead of standing stiff in the storm. Exterior that says, what you see is what you get. Scruffy chin,  tattoos, untidy blonde hair, smoking, drinking. Inside, it’s the opposite. There is so much more, but one needs to stick around long enough to see through the hardened shell to protect yourself from loss or to be allowed to see it, because you don’t want those to see who aren’t supposed to.”

Oliver got silent for a few moments, but didn’t lose eye contact. “I see someone who is filling up where I lack, which is a lot. Who’s words persuade and guide, the voice to open someone’s eyes, to make them believe.” Oliver rose his hands to take John’s in his. “Someone I could see myself grow old with, because there is no other who completes me more than you. Someone who allows me to be myself, to grow and to smack me against the head from time to time.”

“I love you, in ways I can’t explain. I love your out of bed look, though I have no idea yet what your ink means, I’d love to know and trace it with my finger tips while I’m holding you as often as possible. I love your grumpiness in the morning before your coffee and the first cigarette, grumbling and yawning, the sleepiness. I could go on forever. I know that whatever you’re doing, don’t stop, don’t ever stop.” His hands moving up the John’s waist, his palm feeling the hip bone, fingers tracing over the curves. “I love you, with my whole soul.” Which wasn’t something he believed in before he met John, but there was a lot of that. John opened his eyes in so many ways.

[seongwhy]

ateez if a curvier girl liked them

disclaimer!! i am 100% sure these boys would like you for you and not for how many curves you have. you are beautiful no matter what !!! as a curvier girl myself, writing this made me happy hehe

seonghwa

let’s be honest. seonghwa loves curvy girls

i mean he loves all girls, but smth abt a curvy lady gets him going

so imagine his face when a curvy girl likes him !!!!!

you’d tell him “seonghwa... u kinda cute doe” and he’d be like😳😃

he’s had his eye on you for a while

he jus luvs your personality and your humour

and your curves

tbh he’s snuck a glance every now and then

you’d bend down to grab the tv remote and suddenly he’s blushing and thinking of everything he’d do to u omg

or you’d wear a crop top and sit down and your belly might show a lil bit and he melts in his seat

all he wants is to feel ur pretty body

but .. unfortunately u didn’t think that he would like you

you thought that he only had his eye out for the slimmer girls, but that was simply not true queen

so it took u a sec to confess your feelings for him

but once you did you were so surprised at his response

“hey seonghwa, i know that you probably don’t think the same but like i rlly think ur cute and funny and pretty and i rlly like u but i know i’m not rlly ur type and like that’s fine-“

“wait!!! u like me”

“i like u too !!!!!!! who tf told u that ur not my type bc i will beat them up ur gorgeous who told u that >:((((“

and u explain to him that it was just ur brain and he says Never to think that about yourself !!!! bc you are beautiful !!!!

and then ur both just uwu in love with each other and he’s in love w ur curves and ur in love with his chicken legs and it’s amazing and wonderful and you’re so happy you said something bc otherwise you wouldn’t have found the love of ur life :’)

hongjoong

hongjoong is Obsessed

obsessed w your thighs and your tummy and your booty

when u tell him u like him he’s not only like “holy shit i like you too” he’s imagining alllllll the things he can do w u and ur curves

when u first start going out and dating and such it’s great it’s amazing he makes you laugh and you feel beautiful bc he makes you feel beautiful

but when you start opening up to him about your insecurities you thought things would change

but they didn’t !!!!!!!! he started loving u harder

and every day since that first time you cried in his arms he tells you you’re beautiful

“hi honey u look gorgeous”

“baby !!!!! i love that dress on you”

“hey bb, since i can’t see you today i’m just letting u know that you’re beautiful !! and i love and miss you !!!!”

“there’s my fav tummy!!”

he will not Stop telling you how beautiful u are you’re not complaining

he thinks ur a queen and he treats you like one

he loves all of you. all the cellulite and all the curves and all dimples

and he’s not shy abt it either ;)

yunho

ok listen up sweeties

yunho doesn’t rlly pay attention to figure

i mean ofc he LOves your body and he thinks you’re beautiful

but he would not like you if not for your personality

which is absolutely amazing

and so he doesn’t rlly understand when you tell him that you don’t wanna eat that ice cream or the pizza

he thinks you’re beautiful (bc you are) so why don’t u think you’re beautiful too ??????

why won’t u eat w him ????

why wont you take ur shirt off in front of him ???

so one day he brings u mcdonald’s and a shamrock milkshake yummy!!!!

and he sits down w u and watches you try and do everything but eat

so he stops u and looks at u and tells u everything you’ve ever wanted to hear

“babe plz eat in front of me... i think your body is beautiful and i think you’re beautiful and i would not buy u food if i didn’t think so”

and u know this is true bc yunho loves his food and his own shamrock shakes

so u smile at him and lay in his arms and u eat that damn burger!!!!!!

he makes all your insecurities go away

he loves u so much u literally can’t breathe

he’s always hugging you and feeling you up and wrapping his huge arms around u

and he makes u so comfy with yourself

and you love him

and he loves u

yeosang

ok yeosang loves u

and u know it he lowkey highkey makes it obvious

everytime you walk in he either 1) gets all blushy and stops talking mid sentence

“dude!!! stop destroying my fucking hous- uh uh h-hi y/ n”

i don’t actually know what they do in fortnite but if u do and this is wrong just imagine minecraft instead

or 2) he tries to be all tuff and show off

“oh hey y/n” he says as he casually rolls up his sleeve and stretches

but what he Doesn’t know is that u like him too!!!!!!!!!!!!!

he thinks ur waaaaaay our of his league

i mean just take a look at u!!! ur thighs ur belly ur boobiez

p e r f e c t i o n

but one day he accidentally walks in on you and seonghwa talking (he thinks u like seonghwa)

and he hears u like “idk seong he’s really cute and so nice to me and such an angel... also have u seen dem arms doe !!”

and What The Heck

yeosang cannot believe it

u???? the girl of his DREAm s ??? likes HIM ???

and what do u know when he hears that he suddenly can’t keep his balance and trips right over

over what exactly ?? his dignity

and he falls right in front of u and seonghwa

seonghwa just snickers and laughs and leave the room

yeosang just stares at u for a moment before getting up and just staring at u some more

“uh yeosang?? u good”

“h a hah yeah .. i’m good”

“ok. did u hear the part where i said i think you’re cute”

“. yes i did y-es”

“ok. do u like me too”

“uh y-yeah i uh yes”

“ok. get over here dummy”

“👁👄👁”

san

ok we all know san

this weirdo

this secs ee mf that gives zero fucks

haha mmmm

^^^^ that’s what he’s like every time u walk by

idk it’s getting late i’m tired plz don’t judge

when he sees u he’s all like hehehbajsbs ajdosndbdniejn ùwú

but externally he’s like heh he h wassup

and he makes hand gestures at u like outlining ur curvy body

and winking at u

and let’s be honest he may or may not have slapped dat ass a few times

and even though it’s kinda nasty u kinda like it

u know he means well and it’s just one way he shows his love and appreciation for u

and he wouldn’t do it if you told him no !!! consent is key

and u consent bc u like the way he gets slightly flustered everytime he does it

eventually u have to give in one day bc he’s been teasing you long enough

so one day ur walking by him and he smacks ur dump truck and u spin around and grab his arm and pull him up to ur chest

and he’s like HUH

and ur like hi sannie

and he’s like “h-hi”

AND THEN U KISS HIM

AND HE LOVES IT

and he’s feeling u up and he sits you down and pulls him into his lap

and ur scared that ur too much for that

so when u start pulling away he’s like “NO I LIKE U HERE STAY U LOOK SO ORETTY SITTING ON ME”

and u giggle and stay

and then more kissing and cuddling and loving

and he makes u laugh and feel good

and u make him happy and so excited all the time

and it’s sooo good omg he luvs allllll of u so much

mingi

i may have a soft spot for this man

he’s jus so weird and funky

but he’s so cute like idk

don’t tell seonghwa

ANYWAY

those are your exact thoughts abt him too

your relationship was always like....there was tension there

ofc u always thought abt him

and he always thought abt u

u lived in his head rent free

ur curves and dimples and amazing bodyodyody

accompanied w ur amazing personality!!! what could he not love

so when u became friends he was already obsessed w u

he’s always whiny and needy for ur attention

when the boys are there he’s like “😎😈💪🦵”

BUT WHEN YOURE THERE

he does a full 180

his voice goes from deep and scruffy to all soft

the boys clown him for it

but he doesn’t care

he sends u memes all the time

he texts you every day

at first it was an occasional hey wsp and now it’s like “good morning!! how’d u sleep” “hey bb girl wanna go get boba” “u looked rlly good today”

it makes ur heart flutter

and when he started calling u baby girl in PERSON

U DIED

and tbh he didn’t mean to say it the first time it just slipped out BUT he loved the way it made u blush and look down and cross your legs a lil

so he just couldn’t stop saying it

eventually the reaction u had went down a lil bc u got used to it

and that was when he decided he needed to do more

so eventually he got up the courage on a boba date to stop u and sit u down on a bench

and when u were like yes what is it mango

it took him a sec bc u looked so PRETTY in your dress

your thighs crossed and the way your boobies sat in it

he couldn’t help but stare (respectfully)

and u were like HELLo

and he cleared his throat and was like “ur really pretty”

and u blushed and covered yourself w ur arms

and he was like No >:( ur gorgeous and took your hands in his

and kissed them and kissed your arm all the way up to ur face

and he kissed your cheeks and was like these cheeks are so cute

and kissed ur nose and was like i love your nose

and then ur lips

and he didn’t have to say anything for you to know he loved your lips just as much as he loved your everything else

wooyoung

okay if i thought hongjoong was obsessed .

wooyoung is a whole other story

as soon as u step into the room ur the only one that matters

he would stop answering the boys

he would only be looking at you

trying his best to make u laugh it works

bc he loves the way your face lights up when u smile

and how your body shakes when u laugh

and he loves talking to u

abt anything and everything

so he becomes your very best friend

and when u get comfortable to share your insecurities with him he gets so sad and mad

he gets so ANGERY

he’s like WHO SAID THAT WHY WOULD U THINK THAT U ARE AMAZING AND BEAUTIFUL AND AKSJDJAJFJAKL

and one day ur ranting to him about something SOME DUMB ASS BOY said to u in class

AND HES LIKE I WILL BEAT HIM UP NO ONE TALKS TO MY BABY LIKE THAT

and ur like 😳 “y-your baby?”

and he’s like oh fuck fuck fuck fuck

he starts to apologize and ramble

and u just giggle

he’s like ??????

and ur like “i’ll be your baby wooyoungie”

“if you’ll be mine too”

AND HE CANNOT BELIEVE

he runs up to u and picks u up and spins u around and he kisses u and he’s like MY BABY

“dats ma baby and aint nobody finna touch em”

^^ that’s what he’s like w u

and he’s so happy youre his and he’s yours

cuz now he gets all your curves to himself hehehehehehehehehe

jongho

jongho is such a softie

especially for u

he melts everytime he sees your soft skin and your pretty face

he tries really hard to be all tuff around u

but it never pans out

bc he’s so in luv w how pretty you are

in his mind u are the most perfect person ever

he lets u vent to him abt anything

he likes to talk to u abt everything

deep or not

and one day you’re like “hey jongho, i’ve never heard u talk abt a girl before”

and he goes all blushy and is like ha ha i uh i guess u haven’t

and u ask if he has a crush

and he goes even redder

and ur like “U DO OMG TELL KE ABT HER”

sooooo he does

“well she really pretty and has such a kind heart and beautiful eyes and an amazing smile and the prettiest curves i’ve been talking to her for a while and she makes me so happy”

“she’s so gorgeous but she doesn’t think so and it makes me really angry i just wanna tell her she’s beautiful”

and ur like “awww just tell her then! she’ll love hearing that from you” oblivious mf

so jongho sits up straight and looks u right in the eyes and says “ok then. you’re beautiful y/n”

you’re eyes go wide and u open ur mouth to say smth but nothing comes out

so u just hug him

and he wraps his arms around u and says “it’s true, you’re so beautiful”

and u just hug him tighter

and the night is perfect :,)

and he’s perfect

and he’s so grateful u asked him that question

[lu-undy]

Valentine’s Day 3 - Autobalance

Here it is on AO3 or under the cut, if you prefer!

"You got all your stuff Spy? Taxi's on his way." Engineer asked as he knocked on the door with the knife symbol. 

"Oui, I am coming." The voice with the French accent answered. 

Inside the suite, Spy wasn't alone. He sighed as he picked up his suitcase and his mask before looking up at Sniper. 

"Spook…? You sure you can't stay?" 

"I do not think I can. The Administrator's orders were very clear, you received the same letter as I did. I am to be transferred to the enemy team and you will receive their Spy in exchange."

"Yeah… But why does it have to be like that?" Sniper asked, fumbling with his hat between his fingers. He had meant it as a rhetorical question, to express his distress more than anything else. But Spy answered anyway.

"Because we keep winning against them with baffling ease. It was high time that something was done about that."

"Couldn't she swap other people? You're not alone in this team!" 

Spy took the step that separated him from his lover and put his suitcase down. He splayed a hand on Sniper's chest. Like a reflex, his glove travelled up to Sniper's collar and adjusted it. Ah, Sniper didn't know how to dress up. But that was not why the Frenchman had fallen for him. Non, it was rather for his way of undressing the Frenchman, figuratively and concretely. 

Sniper had an innocence, a naivety almost, that touched Spy more deeply than anything else. He had learnt to ignore the scruffy looks, the almost feral manners and instead, found himself falling for them all. Those features were nothing but a wall hiding a kind of honesty and sensitivity too powerful to be understood by the common mortal. Spy had learnt to see through the campervan, the atrocious mullet, the equally hideous sideburns and the messy stubble on the skin tanned by years under the scorching sun of Australia. He had fallen for them all.

"Mundy." Spy said and Sniper, who had his head lowered, closed his eyes and frowned. "Look at me, please." 

"Can't. It hurts." 

"Please…?" Spy put his gloved hand under Sniper's chin and pulled it up until their eyes met. 

"Mh…" Sniper protested. 

"We will continue to see each other at work. This is not a goodbye." Spy said, trying to comfort him.

"Yeah, when you stab me in the back." Sniper sighed. 

"I will not spare you, mon amour, you know how much I like to scratch that back of yours." Spy wiggled his eyebrows and Sniper eventually managed to smile. 

"C'mere…" The Aussie wrapped his arms around him and pulled him in a tight hug as he buried his head in Spy's shoulder. "I'll miss you, luv'." He inhaled the expensive perfume and the menthol cigarette, the distinctive scent of the man he loved.

"I will miss you too." Of course Spy returned the dear embrace and they remained stuck to each other for a long while. Chest against chest, their breathing synced as their fingers clawed harder on each other. 

"Yo, Spy! Your taxi's comin'!" Scout shouted from the door. 

"Get lost!" Sniper shouted from the inside. 

"You are interrupting a moment, Scout." Spy added. 

"What kind of moment? C'mon, you gotta hurry, man!" 

Spy looked at Sniper and answered:

"The kind of moment you dream of having with Miss Pauling." 

Sniper chuckled.

"Oh guys! Jeez! Disgustin'...!" Scout's voice seemed to be deafened more as he walked away from the door. 

Spy and Sniper chuckled. 

"Right, let me carry this for you." Sniper took the suitcase off of Spy's hand. 

"Thank you, that is very kind of you." 

They headed for the door. 

"Well, gotta help the elderly, eh?" 

"Mundy!" Spy nudged him with his elbow. 

The Aussie chuckled and put his hand on the door knob. 

"Wait." He turned to Spy. "Lu'...?"

"Oui?" Lucien answered with a sweet smile. He was about to put on his mask.

"Can I uh… Can I kiss you, just one last time?" 

Lucien shook his head, his grin growing wider. 

"May I kiss you." He corrected. "And please, I am all yours." 

Mundy let go of the door handle and laced his arm around Lucien's waist, pulling him closer as he pushed his lips against him. Lucien wrapped his arms up around Mundy's neck and pushed himself to the tip of his toes, in his varnished Italian shoes. 

"Gosh, I'll miss your lips." Mundy stayed with his forehead against Lucien. His hand travelled up to his hair. He stroked it gently.

"Only my lips?" Lucien tapped the tip of Mundy's nose with his gloved finger before putting on his mask and passing in front of him to open the door. 

"Nah, definitely not only yer lips…" 

"Mundy-!" Lucien got startled when he felt from behind Mundy's powerful fingers grabbing him where he was quite sensitive. 

"C'mon, luv', let's go."

They exited the suite. Spy said goodbye to his team as the taxi arrived. The enemy Spy exited it and entered the base. He shook hands with his new teammates.

"Spy?"

"Spy." 

Both spies shook hands too. 

"Sniper, do you mind holding on to my suitcase, I will give the new Spy a tour of his suite." Lucien asked. 

"Sure. Don't be too long though, the taxi driver's waitin'."

"But of course." 

Both spies went to the door with the knife symbol and entered. It lasted a few minutes and soon, Lucien exited again. Mundy nodded to the front door and the Frenchman nodded. They exited the base and soon found themselves at the taxi's car.

"Hey, promise you'll go easy on my back?" 

"Only if you spare my head, and my suits."

"Your suits?" Mundy asked, not understanding.

"Your Jarate, Sniper." 

"Ah, yeah… Well, depends."

"On what, may I ask?" 

"If you behave." Mundy answered with a wink and Lucien blushed beyond his ears.

"Stop it."

"Make me." Mundy growled low enough that the taxi driver wouldn't hear and Lucien chuckled.

"I will see you tomorrow, as usual." The Frenchman said. 

"Yeah. Oh, hold on…" Mundy opened the car door for him.

"Oh… Merci." He slipped in the car on the backseat and fastened his seatbelt. 

Mundy tapped the window and Lucien lowered it. 

"Uh, I hope I'll say it right, but uh… je t'aime." 

[I love you.]

The pronunciation was tainted with a heavy English accent, the syllables were butchered and the sounds slaughtered. Lucien chuckled at how distorted it sounded from his Sniper's voice.

"Merci."

[Thank you.]

The driver started the engine and Mundy was left alone in front of the base, in the middle of the orange desert split by a grey line of asphalt. The car looked smaller and smaller as the taxi driver flew like the wind. Eventually, it completely disappeared and Mundy sighed, his shoulders sinking sadly. 

He went back straight to his van and spent the rest of his day off there, like a fox in his den. Time passed slowly, terribly so. It was torture to go through the day without his lover and Mundy found himself imagining what Lucien was doing in the enemy base, wherever it was. Did he start by unpacking his suits? Or did he just collapse on his bed and get sucked in the same daydream as Mundy was? 

Perhaps, he had decided to start by taking a shower, to clear his head, then unpack before organising his new home, getting to know it. Of course, Lucien would do all these things with a cigarette between his lips, carding his salt and pepper hair elegantly from time to time. Ah, his grey front lock would always fall on his forehead and between his eyes. He used to always complain about it, saying that he would cut it shorter. But Mundy would answer that his hair was perfect as it was, and he shouldn't cut it. 

Once, he even jokingly suggested that Lucien should tie it away in a ridiculous, very short ponytail at the front. And the Frenchman answered that he seriously was considering it. Of course it was nothing else but a joke, yet Mundy had taken his words and found a little rubber band. He took it to the Frenchman's suite and it had ended up in a game of cat and mouse where Mundy was chasing his lover to tie his hair. When he finally did catch him, he tied the grey front lock of hair and Lucien looked absolutely ridiculous. That day, he had even kept it for the entire evening and only removed it when he went to bed with Mundy. 

Ah, the nights would be lonely now. No Lucien to lie his head on Mundy's shoulder, no Lucien to stick his ice cold feet on Mundy's calves, just to bully him. And of course, no Lucien to warm Mundy's night and leave him panting and sweating… 

Mundy sighed. Such a shame that it had to end. Well, not exactly. They would still see each other at work. Although now, the dynamics between them completely flipped. They didn't work together but against each other. And it was no problem for both of them. Their professionalism and their age meant that they did not mix their work with what they held in their hearts. 

Still, it would take some time to adjust to the new feeling of sleeping alone. Ha, the irony… Him who had slept alone all his life, with only the view of the star sprinkled sky as a companion, Mundy was now lacking company. He almost came to wonder how he used to live before Lucien brightened his days and nights. The van seemed lifeless, as if something vital was missing. 

"Yo, Snipes, dinner's ready!" Scout banged at the door with his legendary delicateness. 

"Right, comin'." 

Mundy put on his hat and glasses before exiting the van. He went to the kitchen and sat at the table, at his usual place. Opposite him was an empty seat. It used to be Lucien's. 

"Alright, fellows, here comes the soup for tonight." Engie announced as he put the - almost larger than him - pot on the table.

"Oh, man! Soup again?" Scout complained. "Please tell me there are no veggies in it at least?" 

"Sorry, pardner, but it's winter and there's no soup on Earth without any veggies. C'mon, gimme your plate…!"

Scout pulled his plate towards himself. 

"Scout…?" Engie insisted. 

"Nah it's fine, I'll eat somethin' else."

"Chocolate bars and soda ain't a diet, son. C'mon now…!"

"Listen, Private!" Soldier banged his fist on the table and all the plates and cutlery shook. "You will eat your rations or by God I will make you eat the empty plate!" Soldier tried to pry the plate off of Scout's hands.

"What?! No! Get away!"

Sniper sighed. That would definitely be when Lucien would say something witty to calm Scout and make him obey...

"Gentlemen." 

All the mercenaries raised their heads. 

"I do apologise for being late. Unpacking proved to be longer than what I had anticipated at first." The new Spy took a seat on the last free chair, opposite Sniper. 

Spy's entrance was enough of a distraction for Engie to take Scout's plate and serve him. The other plates were passed on, one after the other until all the mercenaries were served and started eating. 

The indistinguishable chatter rose in the room between Demo's hearty laughter, Heavy's stories in cold Siberia and Soldier's war tales. 

Sniper was staring emptily at his plate. The bits of vegetables floated lifelessly, half-drowning in the soup. He pushed them sometimes to the left, sometimes to the right. Like little shipwrecks, they bobbed up and down at the surface of the undisturbed ocean that the soup was. 

Obviously, his colleagues noticed but they knew of his relationship with Spy so they guessed why he felt distraught. Given how much the Aussie liked his privacy, they didn't bother him and eventually, he was left alone at the table. Heavy had been on dishes duty that night and he did not disturb his colleague either. After he was finished, he left the room and closed the door. 

But soon, Sniper heard it open again. It did not register completely as he was too absorbed in a day dream. 

"Yo, Snipes?" 

Scout's voice startled Sniper back to reality. 

"Huh?" 

"Sorry pal, Spy's askin' for ya."

Sniper frowned. No, his Spy wasn't asking for him. It was the other one. 

"What does he want?" He mumbled back. 

"Don't know. He said he needed some help with something and he knew you could do it." 

Sniper sighed and grumbled. He pushed his chair back and pushed himself on his feet heavily. 

"Right, I'll see what I can do for him…" He dragged his feet out of the kitchen and in the corridor. 

"Snipes, your soup?" He heard Scout ask but he ignored him as he now faced the door with the knife symbol, and gave a short knock. 

"Come in, Sniper." 

The Aussie frowned and pushed the door. He found Spy sitting on the armchair that used to be Lucien's. He was giving his back to Sniper.

"You need some help with something, Scout said." 

"Oui, pray close the door."

Sniper obeyed and gulped down hard. The last time his Spy asked him to make sure the door was locked was before they - ugh… It mattered little now. 

"So, what d'you need? If it's to move somethin' big, you can ask Heavy, he'll get it sorted faster than me."

"Non, it is for something different. Please, take a seat." 

"Spy, look, I'm not the small talk kind of guy, ok?" Sniper refused to sit and stood not too far from the door.

"Oh, I know." 

"Yeah, you do, you spend your time stabbing me in the back without sayin' a word." Sniper answered, irritated that his new colleague would make him waste his time. He would much prefer to lock himself up in his van and stay there. 

"I don't believe I have ever stabbed you." 

Sniper's eyebrows jumped and he fluttered his eyes under the audacity of what the snake of a man was saying.

"What?" Confused beyond what words could express, Sniper took a deep breath. "Look, y'know what, I'm not gonna answer. I'm gonna just do whatever you need and leave. Now, out with it."

"Sniper…" Spy chuckled and Sniper felt his blood boil. 

"Listen, either you tell me what you need or I'll just walk out of here, before I start throwing punches at you." 

"You never raised your hand on anyone." Spy answered with such calm… Sniper hated it. "Even when Scout mocks you, or gets on your nerves, you ignore him." 

Sniper raised an eyebrow. 

"What…? Y-you've been watchin' us in this base…?" 

"You never raised your hand or your voice against anyone." Spy went on. "You are way too soft for that." 

"Stop it. Right. Bloody. Now." Sniper was now angry. The familiarity with which the new Spy spoke to him disgusted him. He sounded almost like Lucien but he wasn't him. No, that bastard wasn't him. He wasn't him and how the hell dared he speak like him. 

"Or what? What will you do, hm? Run far away and shoot me in the head? Throw one of your precious jars at me? Pff, come on…!"

"I might start by rearrangin' your ugly mug, pop a few teeth with my fists, see how that goes, eh!" Sniper snapped, furious. 

"You used to find my face very comely. Countless times you have told me so." 

"Right, that's enough." Sniper took confident steps towards the Frenchman. He clenched his fist and threw it but Spy stood up and faced him, blocking his punch in his open palm. He twisted the Aussie's arm and brought him to his knees. 

"Oh you wanker!" 

"Only when you ask nicely."

"What?!" 

Spy removed his mask and his hair gently floated in the air for an instant.

"What the hell?!" 

Mundy felt his foe's grip loosen on his fist and his own knees went to jelly under the surprise.

"Bonsoir, mon amour."  The voice with the lovely smirk said.

[Good evening, my love.]

"What are you doin' here?!" 

Lucien was standing in front of Mundy, a sweet smile on his lips. He helped him back to his feet.

"Am I…? Am I dreamin' or something? Hold on…" Mundy removed his glasses and rubbed his eyes. "What the hell are you doing here? Why aren't you with the other team?!" 

Lucien chuckled and took his lover's hands to guide him and sit together on the sofa. 

"I never left this base!"

"What?"

"When I took the enemy Spy on a tour of this suite, I had a chat with him. Neither him or I wanted to swap teams. So we agreed to swap our clothes instead. I stay here and he goes back to his base." 

"Holy… Why didn't you say anything earlier, during dinner or something?" Mundy stretched his arm and wrist which hurt.

"Because no one knows about this but you, me, and the enemy Spy. There are cameras in the kitchen, living-room and corridors. I couldn't try anything suspicious there. Here however, we are safe, as you know." 

"Bloody hell…" Mundy shook his head. "But hold on, why did the enemy Spy accept?" 

"I think he has an arrangement with one of his teammates." 

"An arrangement?" Mundy repeated. "What? They're gonna open a lemonade stand on the weekends?" He chuckled. 

"Non, he is in a relationship with his Sniper." 

Mundy's chuckle stopped sharp and his eyebrows jumped. 

"Seriously?" 

"Oui." 

"Crikey, I had no idea…!"

Lucien chuckled. 

"Anythin' else like that that I don't know?" He asked. 

"Oh, plenty of things. But they matter very little. What matters now is that I am still here, with you." Lucien cupped his lover's face with his gloved hands and stroked his cheeks. Mundy relaxed and smiled. 

"So the bloke I escorted to the taxi and stuff wasn't you?" 

"Non, it was him." 

"Oh, right." Mundy stared at his lover with half-lidded eyes. "It really broke me inside when - oh, bugger!" He exclaimed in shock. 

"What?" Lucien asked. 

"Before the taxi drove off…!" 

"What happened?" 

"I told the enemy Spy I loved him! In French!" Mundy exclaimed with round eyes. "Bloody hell!" He smacked a hand on his own mouth and blushed beyond his ears. 

Lucien burst out laughing. 

"Well, I do hope that he didn't say that he loved you back!" 

"Oh… Bugger… Now he's gonna bully me even more at work…" Mundy lowered his head. 

"Non, mon amour…" Lucien hugged him and pulled Mundy's head to rest on his shoulder. "I won't let him bully you, I promise. Besides, I doubt that he will." 

"Hope so." 

"I am sure of it. He is a good man. A less good spy, but a good man." Lucien said. "Now, please, look at me." He cupped Mundy's half ashamed, half distraught face. "You need something to soothe your nerves, mon amour. And to fill your stomach. Come along." Lucien took his hand and led Mundy to the kitchen attached to his suite. "Let us cook something for you." 

"Can we get pizza?" 

"Non, Mundy. Why get pizza when I can cook for you?" 

"Well…"

"Non! My cooking skills are godly, I will not tolerate that you should think otherwise!" Lucien said as he tied an apron around his waist and washed his hands. Mundy followed him left and right.

"I was gonna say it would save you the trouble, but ok…" Mundy chuckled. 

"What trouble? There is no trouble! My lover is hungry. It is my duty to remedy that." Lucien went to his fridge.

"Fair enough. Can I still hug you though?" 

"Oui, you may. But do not disturb me, understood?" Lucien emerged from the fridge and Mundy stuck himself to him, from behind. 

"Can I at least breathe?!" 

"I shall think about it and let you know." Lucien playfully answered as he grabbed a cutting board and a knife. Mundy rested his head on Lucien's shoulder, watching him cut vegetables and some meat. He liked it there, hugging his lover and spending time with him. Lucien would occasionally feed him a bit of carrot, or tomato. 

"Mundy?" 

"Yeah?" 

"Could you say that to me?" Lucien asked and he interrupted his chopping. 

"Say what?"

"That you love me, in French. You never did."

"Yeah, uh... Je t'aime, Lu'." 

Lucien bit his lip and rolled his head back to lean it on Mundy's shoulder. 

"Again…"

"Je t'aime." 

He closed his eyes and smiled. Mundy hugged him tighter and left a kiss on his cheek. 

"Mundy?"

"Yeah?" 

"Your pronunciation is terrible." 

"Oi!"

[imjeralee]

Wallflower: Chapter 5 - The Long Day

Raihan x F!Reader

Disclaimer: Do not own Pokemon

Note: This is my first Pokemon fanfic. I hope you enjoy it :) Originally posted on Archive of Our Own.

Summary: You’re an unassuming Pokemon breeder who works at the nursery in the Wild Area and he’s Raihan, the fearsome gym leader of Hammerlocke who has more than a million followers.

You don’t want anything to do with him but he’s…persistent.

Rating: Mature/Explicit

Warnings: Lemon, smut, violence, language

THE LONG DAY

...

...

It's been a long day.

A match has just finished. He lost, again. The gym challenger jumps up and down happily whilst he recalls his fainted Duraludon and the sandstorm subsides. There's sand in his eyes but he forces himself to blink through it. The crowd's cheers gradually die down as both challengers make their way to the middle of the pitch and shake hands.

"Congrats." Raihan says, before he goes over his rehearsed line. He's said it so many times, he's lost count. He hands out the Dragon badge, gives them a TM as a gift and sends the gym challenger along their merry little way. He'll also keep his eyes peeled whether the gym challenger makes it to the finals or not.

The audience leaves, the stadium grows quiet and Raihan retires to the changing rooms where he pulls off his hoodie, leaving himself in his dragon uniform, plops himself down on a cold, hard bench, removes his headband and checks his phone. He goes through his selfies and opens his trusted app, uses the filters and chooses which one suits his liking. When he's finished with the minor edits, he posts it up on his account and a slew of likes and comments appear within several seconds of being uploaded.

'Great match, Raihan!'

'Loser'

'Ur so hot my king <333'

'Lost again, huh? not surprised'

''I get how u like to use weather in ur battles - sandstorm, rain, hail - but that was a pure shitstorm'

'Sending u so much luv, ur ma precious bby (ง︡'-'︠)ง'

’DADDY’

'Marry me!!!'

'Maybe if u spent more time training ur pokemon rather than taking selfies, u wouldn't b a shitty trainer. Just sayin ¯\_(ツ)_/¯'

'can I suck ur cock??'

The comments are mixed, needless to say. He scrolls down the growing list until he spots one from a fan with a username that seems familiar to him. The message says 'Plz go 2 Spikemuth??? I know u lost but I’ll always b ur biggest fan'.

Huh. Interesting. He hadn't been to Spikemuth for a long time and he hadn't seen Piers for a while either. Checking his Rotom calendar, he sees that he doesn't have any matches scheduled until next week. Maybe he should go and unwind, take a quick break. Replying to the message, he says 'Great idea!'. He doesn't even need to pack anything because he'll just be there for one night; instead, he merely books a return ticket from Hammerlocke to Circhester online and grabs his hotel keycard. Being a gym leader meant he had several privileges, including a twenty four seven hotel room courtesy of Macro Cosmos in Hotel Ionia.

Once he arrives in Spikemuth, it's already nighttime and he hits the nightclub after visiting Piers. He doesn't remember the name of the club but he frequents it and before he enters, he snaps another photo of himself and uploads it.

Inside, the nightclub is bustling. He's used to this type of scene and he goes to the bar, orders a drink. The first drink is on the house because he comes here so often. Although he's alone, he's approached various times by attractive women of all shapes and sizes who take selfies with him. In almost every photo, they stick their tongue out and do the peace sign. The amount of people who recognise him and go up to him as the night goes on makes him a little exhausted, so he doesn't stay in one area of the club for long, opting to change seats often. As soon as he's changed seats for the umpteenth time, he's immediately approached by a girl in a black dress; she's very attractive and slim.

"Hi." She says coolly, looking at him through half-hooded eyes.

"Hey." He replies, taking a sip of his drink.

"What are you doing here?"

He shrugs.

She smiles widely. "I'm Louisa. Are you gonna buy me a drink or you gonna leave me hanging?"

He takes another sip of his drink and settles the glass on the counter. "Sure."

Calling the bartender over by waving his hand lazily, Louisa excitedly takes the seat beside him and he allows her to order what she wants. It's something expensive but he puts it on his tab. For a few minutes or so, they chat and flirt, and she orders more and more drinks and her words become garbled and she asks him invasive questions which he’s used to, then she tells him she wants to be as rich and famous as he is and asks him for his secret. When he tells her there is no secret, her demeanour changes - she rubs her foot against the length of his leg before she slips out of her barstool and tugs at his hand playfully, inviting him to dance. He lets her take the lead and once on the dance floor, she begins grinding against his hips and taking his hands with hers and putting them on her waist.

Louisa's pulling some pretty bold moves but he finds himself looking away and it's then Raihan spots a girl sitting amongst a group of women in one corner who are chatting loudly; he remembers that interview he did recently and this girl - he has never seen her before and she is definetely not a gym challenger either - but she fits everything he described. He can't help but stare. She's wearing a tight, black dress which she doesn't seem to be comfortable in as she sits at the very edge, looking rather lost as she holds her drink in hand. She doesn't even look like she's enjoying herself. He watches her for a few moments or so, noticing how she lifts a hand to tuck her hair behind her ear and glance at her companions before she shifts her gaze to her lap. She's clearly not at home here. Raihan stares at her for a little longer than intended, drinking in the sight of her until Louisa steps on his foot with her pencil heel.

"Oh! I'm so sorry - " She says, before she immediately slams a hand over her mouth and rushes away - and promptly projectile vomits all over the floor. Looks like someone’s had too much to drink. She collapses and some concerned members of the public go help her out.

After making sure she's okay, he watches as she's carried out and returns to his seat and orders another drink. He downs it in one sip and wipes his mouth, finding his eyes glued on this other girl who’s captured his eye and piqued his interest; he sees her leaving her seat and walking towards his direction. It appears she's been asked to order drinks because she's the only one sober. Raihan watches her; she walks right past him, not even batting an eyelid.

What the Bidoof? She totally ignored him!

Doesn't she know who he is???

He observes her as she returns to her seat, balancing three drinks on a tray which her friends end up making her drink. A while later, she seems to be drunk as well because she heads to the dancefloor on her own, looking around and swaying slightly. Raihan finishes another drink and his head's throbbing too but what the hell - he wants to talk to her so he heads over and once he reaches her, he slides an arm around her waist and she looks up.

"Hi, do you wanna dance?"

She squints her eyes at him; she didn't hear him over the loud music. "...What?"

He repeats his question.

"I don't...I don't talk to strangers." She manages to slur out.

He's fairly amused; she's so cute, like a little Skitty with her pink cheeks and somewhat dazed expression. "I'm not a stranger, I'm Raihan."

"Who?"

He pauses, momentarily stunned.

Then he grins.

A girl who doesn't know him.

What are the odds, really?

...

Present.

There's a team of investigators at your house; the box has been removed and they opened it.

A pokemon's heart was inside.

You didn't see it but these men dressed in white came and took something red and fleshy out and deposited it into an icebox. The date has ended miserably; you sit on your sofa with the front door open as Looker’s team scour the rest of your house but the culprit is long gone. After taking down your testimony, you wonder what's going to happen next - Looker speaks to a man in scruffy shorts, flip flops, t-shirt, cap and sunglasses. People would've thought this man was a hobo but it was actually Chairman Rose in his civilian disguise. You can't hear what they're talking about but it can't be good. His secretary stands stiffly in silence with her hands clasped together, looking rather solemn.

Raihan sits beside you and you're stuck in his embrace. He's been hugging you the entire time but you feel he needs a hug more than you do because no-one should be facing this alone and also, you are grateful he's here so you wrap your arms around his waist and when you look up at him, he smiles at you reassuringly and pecks you on the forehead before snuggling you, and you do the same. It feels good to be in his arms, even though the date is over and there’s random men in your house, going through your things and trampling over your nice pristine carpet with their mucky boots.

Luckily, your Pokemon were fine - you flung open your door and when you saw Drifloon and Phantump in the living room, you pulled them into a hug and returned them to their pokeballs. Then you looked around for Espie and found her sleeping in your closet so you quickly returned her safely into her ball as well. Poliwag never left the bathroom and was swimming in your bathtub which he had filled with water so you quickly recalled him too. You tucked all your pokeballs into your safe box and counted them  three more times just incase. Everyone's accounted for. Thank Arceus, your Pokemon are unharmed. You will call Glenn later and ask if he can pop by your house and look after your Pokemon if he’s free.

What a shit way to end the first date you have with Raihan. You'll remember this for the rest of your life. Oh boy, what a story to tell the grandkids. Jokes aside, the Chairman's presence here doesn't bode well because you know once he finishes talking to Looker, he will probably speak to the both of you. This is bigger than you, Raihan and Looker...no matter how much you wanted to keep the Dusclops in the closet. More and more people are getting involved and will find out about the one night stand. This is humiliating.

Groaning, you close your eyes and Raihan hugs you even tighter than before that your lungs might pop. "Are you okay?" He's asked you that question a few times now.

You're not okay and you don't know whether to humour him or not, so you utter, "This isn't the first time I've seen a dead pokemon. Did I tell you that too?" Sarcastic, cynical response it is. He doesn't deserve it but you can't help yourself in this situation.

"Yeah," He replies (thank goodness he's not offended), "I'm sorry I got you involved."

"It's not your fault."

You resume your cuddling but it's cut short when Chairman Rose finishes talking to Looker and begins heading towards your house and enters through the front door. His secretary follows silently. Immediately, you climb out of his lap, allowing Raihan to stand up and you follow his example, except you begin to tremble slightly until Raihan squeezes your hand. Once Rose is directly in front of you, he exchanges glances between the two of you before he smiles warmly.

"It's a pleasure to meet you, my name is Rose and I'm the Chairman of the Pokemon League. You must be Raihan's new belle." He says.

Belle? Like the character from the popular, classical movie, Beauty and the Buzzwole? This guy is kind of weird. There's something off about him but you can't just put your finger on it.

Before you can even speak, Rose turns to the gym leader and adds, "Raihan, it's been a while since we last saw each other; usually I have no business in your affairs but this time....well, where do I even begin?" He's smiling but you don't think this conversation is heading to a good direction.

"Chairman Rose." Raihan greets him; he's different when dealing with this man. He's more stoic and serious. "We're taking care of it. I've got Looker helping us."

"I'm taking your word for it, but I'm disappointed in you. Get this sorted out right now. This could ruin everything I've worked for and I'm not taking any chances. Why else do you think the paparazzi aren't going crazy over this? I'm paying them to keep their mouths closed."

Raihan's expression doesn't change. "I'm aware."

"I'm glad you understand the severity of the circumstances here." With that, Rose turns and leaves. The tight-lipped woman doesn't say anything and follows after him.

There's a brief silence between the two of you until Raihan sits down on the sofa again.

"Raihan?" You mutter; he keeps his eyes trained on the floor but he looks up when you sit down beside him. "What did he mean? Is...is that why...when the photo of us got posted online, it just vanished the next day? I mean, okay, I guess it's a godsend something else came up but...did Chairman Rose really pay the press off? I'm sure that man won't do things for free......Is it coming from your pay cut?" Although you're not sure exactly how Raihan's making money - either from being sponsored by various companies or individuals, or from his social media - you're not sure but now that you think about it... well, you didn't think about it until now.

He nods.

Oh, shit. Your lip trembles slightly and you rub your elbow awkwardly. "Oh, Raihan."

"It's fine. I didn't want you to worry or get hurt." Raihan says, smiling gently before he reaches for your hand, entwining your fingers with his. You gaze at him worriedly and when he drops the smile, you carefully pull your hand free from his and taking a deep breath, you attempt to calm your thundering heart as you awkwardly slide your arms around him. This is your first time taking the initiative and your cheeks feel warmer than usual. He realises this too and he looks at you in surprise before you give him a squeeze. So... here you are, showing affection and care.

"I think it's best if we lay low after this." You mutter, "Chairman Rose is right. This is getting worse...and your career might be ruined. It's not worth it."

In response, he gives you a tight squeeze.

You hear someone clearing your throat and that's when you both throw your glances over. It's Looker; he looks slightly disgruntled. "Sorry to interrupt, I just wanted to check if you’re both okay.”

“Thanks, Looker,” Raihan replies, "We're fine."

”Good.”

As he begins to leave, his Rotom hovers into the air and exclaims, "Bzzzt! Confirmed visual! Suspect is at Rose Tower!"

"Thanks, Rotom. Let's go."

You turn to Raihan and your gazes meet. "...Should we go with him?"

....

Looker leaves Ballonlea and makes his way to Rose Tower; arriving at reception, he shows the receptionist his badge and proceeds to tell her he's looking for someone. He gives a name - a female's - and the receptionist checks internal employee records and informs him this particular employee is located on the fifteenth floor, belonging to the IT department. Looker thanks her and enters the awaiting lift. He's only been to Rose Tower a few occasions and discovers it's quite a sterile environment. He watches various Macro Cosmos employees walking around, all donned in the casual, cool uniform, with the hat and shades and the funky-looking triangle shaped pokeball holders stuck to their hips. They're all role model trainers - friendly, intelligent and hip.

Rotom did an excellent job - Raihan's biggest fan is a Marco Cosmos employee who lives in Spikemuth. It was typical - drunk father, dilapidated environment, hundreds of photos of Raihan in her room... This will be over soon.

Once the lift doors open, Looker finds the next reception desk and asks the lady for the girl and where she sits; the lady asks if she should call her - Looker says no, but asks for access inside - the lady kindly grants permission to enter the IT floor using her pass. Once inside, there are rows and rows of desks in open plan all filled with large computer screens - many employees are looking at two or four screens at one time, tip-tapping away rapidly into their computers. There's numerous Porygon floating around but they don't pay attention to him.

Looker goes up to a random employee and asks if he knows where the girl is. The employee tells him that she's at a booth and points down the hallway. Looker curses and makes his way as quickly as he can to the hot desk area where he sees a lone girl with her back to him, sitting at one of the terminals. Looks like she's in the middle of uploading something. Shit, it's not the video, right? A Banette stands beside her and once it senses Looker's arrival, it tugs on her elbow and hisses, a rattling noise emitting from its body.

"Stop!" Looker yells; he's just a few feet from her and the girl abruptly turns round in her swivel chair. "Don't do it."

It's a young girl; maybe even younger than Raihan's current girlfriend. Looker wasn't sure what to exactly expect but she seems perfectly normal. "Who...who are you??" She demands, clearly stunned by his arrival.

"Don't do it." Looker says sternly; he doesn't bother with any introductions. "I know who you are and what you did. Are you sure you want to do this to Raihan?" Looker points to the computer where the screen is frozen with the commands 'Confirm' or 'Cancel' and she throws her glance to the monitor. "Do you have it in your heart to do something like this to him? Is this something you really want to do? Think about it. If you press that button, you'll ruin everything he's worked for and you know he's worked hard to get to where he is now."

The girl looks annoyed at his words, "I-I don't know what you're talking about. Please leave."

"I went to your home and spoke to your father, and I found the hotel room with the slot behind the light switch where you put the camera. We know what you did to the Deerling. Do you really want to go through with this?"

He's expecting some kind of angry response, some form of retaliation to his claims. However, she merely closes her eyes, re-opens them and says, "You don't understand, nobody does. If I don't do this then he won't even bat an eyelid at me. I did everything for him. He is my everything. I've done everything for him and it's still not enough. He didn't see me at all. He doesn't see me...why doesn't he see me? I do so much for him. I comment on every video and photo, I go to as many matches as I can, I changed myself, I changed my hair, my eyes - but it didn't work, nothing did."

"And are you happy with yourself? With who and what you have become?"

She grows silent.

"You aren't, are you? You probably don't recognise yourself anymore. You probably don't even know who you are anymore. Deep inside, you know this is wrong."

"She was one step ahead. It should've been me, it was supposed to be me."

"But it wasn't. And now you're angry, you're upset and betrayed."

"Yes."

"It doesn't have to be this way."

A brief silence spawns before she casts her morose gaze to the floor. She utters, "He helped me get up every morning....helped me get through the day. If it wasn't for him, I probably would've killed myself a long time ago."

"I understand." Looker replies, "If you really love him, then you would forgive him."

Before the girl can say anything, however, there's the sound of footsteps approaching and Looker turns to see Raihan and his girlfriend standing at the hallway along with a random Macro Cosmos employee - looks like they've just arrived and everyone seems stunned to see each other.

Chaos ensues:

"What's going on here?!" The Marco Cosmos employee demands.

"Goddamnit, what the hell are you two doing here?!" Looker barks angrily; he rarely loses his cool, but this...? Motherfurret!

"What the...what is she doing here?!" The obsessed fan begins to screams; her calm demeanour vanishes at once and her expression turns murderous as she glances at Banette. "Go Banette, attack! Use Shadow Ball!" She promptly turns to the computer and Looker fumbles for a pokeball.

"Growlithe, stop her!" He throws the capsule and releases the puppy pokemon who immediately dashes over and bites on the sleeve of her uniform, pulling her arm away from the mouse but she's able to start the upload.

Banette's Shadow Ball hurtles towards the gym leader's direction; Raihan releases his Duraludon to shield his girlfriend whilst he also throws himself over her. She cannot react in time to Banette's attack but a pokeball stuck to her waist opens up and a burst of light appears, revealing another pokemon that blocks the attack along with Duraludon - it's a Garchomp - and it immediately retaliates with a Dragon Claw, knocking the Banette out in one smooth hit. Looker rushes up to the desk and grabs the mouse, cancelling the upload before it reaches one hundred per cent. Banette's attack bounces off Duraludon and the room grows silent.

”No, Banette!” The obsessed fan screams as Growlithe tugs her away from the computer and Looker quickly pulls out the USB device. With her other hand, she grabs a pokeball off her belt and tosses it forwards, “Druddigon, go!"

As a massive pokemon appears and attacks Growlithe, she is released and she quickly returns her fainted Banette into an Ultra ball before making a run for it. Looker chases after her as she disappears into the emergency exit.

...

"Beldum, use Take Down!"

From that day on, you took Beldum outside to train everyday. The mountains near your home was an ideal place and after a few days of scouring, you found a small patch of grass containing weak pokemon which you could use to train Beldum, namely Trapinch who are at a level much lower than Beldum. You direct Beldum when to attack and avoid and when the Trapinch faints, you jump and down on the spot with joy.

"Yay! You did it!"

Beldum turns to you, eye curling with happiness. You can't always tell what it's thinking but you know it enjoys training. You can also feel it's growing stronger as the days pass. Beldum is not strong enough to face other pokemon so you only have him face Trapinch and so far, you're also noticing that his attack stats are getting stronger compared to his others.

"Phew! Let's go home!" You exclaim, "It's been a long day."

Beldum nods in agreement. You've used up all your potions to keep his health up; no worries though, because Glenn will be going to the pokemart tomorrow and you can ask him to buy some for you. As you return Beldum to his pokeball, suddenly it disappears from your hand and you're shoved from behind. Landing on the ground, your knees scraping in process, you look up to see a group of boys on their bikes who are clutching Beldum's pokeball. Urgh, if it isn't Graham and his little gang.

"Hey! Give me him back!" You yell angrily as you get up wobbly. Your knees are bleeding and so are your palms, but Beldum was more of your concern.

"You want him? Then come get 'im!" Graham exclaims, before he starts pedalling away on his bike. His cronies follow and you growl under your breath, grabbing the handlebars of your bike and lifting it off the ground. You follow the boys as fast as you could go, going deeper and deeper into the forest and up a steep mountain path until you see them up ahead and looks like they've ditched their bikes to crouch in front of some bushes; once you arrive, you climb off your bike and run up to them, furious.

Before you can even yell, Graham grabs you and slaps his grubby hand over your mouth, silencing you. "Shhhh! It'll hear you!" He hisses and you blink, wide-eyed.

He drags you towards the rest of his group where they're spying on a large dragon pokemon in a cave that is hunched over a Deerling... it's a small, feeble thing - and your eyes widen as you see the large pokemon smash the Deerling's head into the ground and it lets out a weak but horrifying, pained bleat until it stops moving. Growling low, the massive dragon pokemon begins to sink its jaws into its body and tear at the flesh. Using it's massive claws, it proceeds to tear the body apart and you see nothing but blood and entrails. The boys are staring, transfixed, whilst you watch in horror. You try to escape but Graham's grip on you is too strong as he forces you to watch, much to your disgust.

"W-what is it?" One of the boys asks.

"I think it's a Druddigon."

"And it's eating that Deerling!"

In unison, they all coo in awe even though you're horrified and repulsed and you try to escape once more, your foot stepping over a twig and causing it to snap loudly.  Everyone gasps as the Druddigon immediately turns its head to your direction and the boys make a run for it; Graham lets go of you and pushes you to the ground once more and your head smacks against the dirt. As you sit up, your vision is slightly blurred as you watch the boys grabbing their bikes and pedal away, leaving you behind. You don't know where Beldum is until it appears in a burst of light and hovers in front of you protectively.

"Beldum!" You exclaim with relief. Glancing around, you find Beldum's discarded pokeball and grab it, just as a massive shadow covers your form and you look up to see the huge Druddigon before you. It lets out an insanely loud roar and you scream, throwing your arms over your head to brace for impact -

- but nothing happens.

Lowering your arms, you glance over to see a small blue pokemon with a red tummy that has stopped the Druddigon in its rage; it stands alongside your Beldum, facing off against the dragon. It waves it's little arms and snaps its jaws as it attempts to kick sand at the Druddigon and you know it's using Sand Attack.

A Gible?

Standing up, you know neither of the pokemon are a match against the Druddigon so you recklessly grab your Beldum and the Gible and take off running.

....

Oh crumbs, Looker had almost calmed down the culprit but your group ruined it by waltzing into the scene. Neither of you were aware, of course; you and Raihan had merely arrived at Rose Tower and asked if anyone had seen Looker. A kind Macro Cosmos employee said yes and agreed to take you over to see him. However, the moment you saw that Druddigon and fear gripped you like ice. It's been a long time since you've been afraid and you’re brought to your senses when you hear Garchomp growling and you blink, turning to him.

"Chompy?"

Garchomp emits another growl; you know he's asking if you're okay.

"Yes, I'm fine. Sorry about that. Thanks for saving me."

He nods and then turns to the Druddigon.

Ah, that's right. A Gible came to save you that day. It just came out from nowhere and once you successfully ran away from the Druddigon, it decided to stay with you and Beldum. Ever since you added Gible to your team, you trained him until he evolved into a Garchomp and now he's one of your most reliable fighters along with Metagross. You smile fondly at Garchomp as he waddles in front of you and you quickly come to realise that Raihan's Duraludon is fighting the Druddigon; he's whittled down the Druddigon's health until it's weak and you hastily issue a command to finish it off: “Garchomp, use Dragon Claw.” You instruct, and your pokemon strikes down your opponent with speed and strength like no other.

Druddigon is quickly knocked out and Raihan turns to you and your pokemon, grinning. "We make a good team."

You're not sure what to think - Looker was handling it fine without you two. "We shouldn't have come. What were we thinking? We're not ten years old anymore. I'm too old for this." You reply, and Raihan chuckles. Turning to the Macro Cosmos employee who has escorted you to Looker, you see he's busy on the phone informing his superiors about an emergency - also, the entire IT hot desk area is in complete disarray. Your skirmish with Banette and Drudiggon has resulted in many upturned computers and chairs and a few broken desks.

"C'mon, we need to help Looker." Raihan says, reaching for your hand.

You nod and you both recall your pokemon, then head towards the direction where Looker and the girl sprinted off to.

Adrenaline pumps through your veins and your pulse is racing. This is definitely a date to remember. You're going to remember this day for a long time. You reach the emergency exit, opening the doors where you see the stairs as well as three lifts. It's eerily silent - if Looker was chasing the girl, you would hear them, right? Two of the lifts are heading up, so naturally you assume they've taken the lift - looks like it's going to the very top floor - and you and Raihan immediately jump into the third lift once it arrives and take it all the way up. This very exciting moment is temporarily put on hold as you stand side by side and listen to dingy elevator music on your way to the top; Raihan even attempts to take a selfie. He tries to include you in the photo too but you're not in the mood for photos so you politely decline.

Once the doors slide to an open, action rears it's ugly head again - you and Raihan find yourself in a huge outdoor arena; the air here is terribly chilly and you can feel strong gusts of wind blowing from the stands. Your breath comes out in short puffs and you begin to shiver but you see Looker and the obsessed fan ahead; they have finished a pokemon battle with Looker recalling his fainted pokemon. You and Raihan rush up to him but he holds his arm out.

"Don't do anything rash." He warns, and you take note of the obsessed fan who is standing a distance away. The moment she sees Raihan, and her eyes widen with fright.

"Thanks, Looker. What's her name?"

Looker tells him.

"Thanks, I'll talk to her." Raihan mutters.

"Wait, don't - " You and Looker speak in unison, but Raihan is already walking towards her. You help Looker stand on his feet and you both watch Raihan approach the girl. The atmosphere feels terse, thick with tension.

"Hi," He says, smiling, "You're my biggest fan, right?"

"Y-yes, I am." Strange, she's very timid all of a sudden.

He says her name and she nods.

"You....you know my name?"

"Of course I do."

She clamps a hand over her mouth in shock before tears begin bubbling in her eyes.

"Thanks for supporting me. If it weren't for you, for all of you, things could've turned out a lot differently for me. Thanks for being there for me. I get a lot of harsh comments, but you've always cheered me on. Thank you."

She nods vigorously. "Yes, yes, of course I will!!! You're so important to me, I-I - " She clutches her chest, "I can't believe this, you're...you-you're actually talking to me. I-I've always imagined this! And it's really happening!" She can't seem to control herself now as she splutters and stutters before she reaches for him. She wants to touch him and she begins making her way towards him. Raihan doesn't move, allowing her to approach. What the hell?! You try to interrupt but it's too late - as soon as she's in arm's length of him, you see her pulling a knife from behind her and Raihan doesn't realise -

You release Garchomp from his pokeball and he executes a Slash, causing the knife to go clattering out from her hand. She whips her head to you, furious; Raihan exchanges glances between the two of you whilst Looker hurriedly collects the knife.

"I challenge you to a pokemon battle!" You find yourself yelling out; you need to avert her attention from Raihan or else she'll try to pull a stunt like that again should she get the chance. Enraged, the obsessed fan accepts the challenge, grabs a pokeball from her belt and releases her pokemon. It's a Garchomp, too.

"Garchomp, use Dragon Tail!" She directs her pokemon to attack first.

"Outrage!" You yell, and you watch as both Garchomp lunge at each other. You will show no mercy. The moment they clash and you wince as the Dragon Tail connects with your pokemon; your Garchomp assaults the opponent at the same time and both pokemon land on the ground. Her Garchomp wobbles slightly before collapsing. Success! The enemy Garchomp is knocked out cold and your Garchomp is still standing!

Annoyed, she recalls her fainted Garchomp whilst yours stands proudly in the arena, victorious. She chooses her next pokeball and throws it high into the air. "Go, Dragonite!"

You return Garchomp, thank him for his hard work and choose your next battler. "Go, Tyranitar!"

Raihan watches you and your pokemon with his arms crossed and a smile; you know he's impressed but there's no time to waste.

"Hyper Beam!" The obsessed fan commands, and the Dragonite begins gathering energy in its mouth.

"Ice Punch!" You yell, and Tyranitar acknowledges your instruction with a roar and slams one arm towards the direction of the Dragonite's belly. A cluster of thick ice surrounds your Tyranitar's claw which proceeds to ram into the Dragonite and it stops in mid-attack, promptly knocking out the dragon pokemon with one hit. It's super effective!!!!

The Dragonite is recalled and there's only one pokeball attached to her belt; the obsessed fan is down to her last pokemon. You wonder what her final pokemon is - and she tosses the ball onto the field. A Hydreigon appears in a burst of light and you stare as she quickly returns it; a bright red light appears on her wrist and begins to gather around her - she has a Dynamax band - and she grabs the ball which has become enlarged and throws it high into the air, revealing the Dynamaxed Hydreigon. It promptly flaps its massive wings and a fierce gust of wind almost knocks you off your feet if Tyranitar didn't help by shielding you.

"Thanks, boy." You say, as Tyranitar growls affectionately at you before turning to face the gigantic Hydreigon. "It's Dynamaxed but don't be afraid."

Tyranitar throws it's glance to the ground, twiddling it's claws together timidly.

"You can do it! I believe in you!!" You pat him on the back, and Tyranitar returns to the field. "Use Stone Edge!"

Your Tyranitar nods and emits a roar; the ground shakes and just as the Hydreigon is beginning it attack, Tyranitar summons enormous pillars of rock that burst out from the ground and slams into the Hydreigon without delay. Although it's not a super effective move, the attack hits the Hydreigon square in the chest and it begins to explode in a glorious display of fire and light before it begins to return to normal size. He did it!!

Raihan and Looker watch as the dust clears away. The obsessed fan is out of pokemon. Your pokemon had completely and utterly decimated her team in minutes and her jaw drops in disbelief.

"No!" She yells, furious. Distraught, she looks around the arena shakily before she runs for the railings - you know what she's trying to do - before she can throw herself off, Raihan has grabbed her, hauling her away from the edge just in time. She lands in his chest as he drops over the floor and she attempts to wriggle free, flailing violently. Although you wonder if she's got another knife hidden somewhere, you get the feeling she's out of options and now she is truly helpless. Raihan sits up with the girl who's crying heavily and she's immediately intercepted by Looker who takes out a pair of handcuffs, slapping them on her wrists.

You recall Tyranitar, rush over to Raihan as he gets up to stand, grinning at you. Without thinking twice, you throw your arms around him; he's taken aback by your action, eyes wide, before he chuckles and quickly wraps his arms around you in return and scoops you off the ground; you find your feet leaving the floor and you quickly adjust yourself to this new position, slipping your arms around his neck whilst he keeps you hoisted up with his arms tucked under your knees, your chest pressed against his.

"You idiot, you could've gotten killed!" You can't help but scold him.

Your faces are close as he clutches you. "I'm sorry I made you worry."

"Not good enough." You retort, "Don't do that ever again!"

"Okay." He leans in and quickly pecks you on the mouth and you find your anger subsiding; you can't stay mad at him.

The two of you then turn to Looker who is escorting the obsessed fan out of the arena and towards the lifts. She's still crying uncontrollably, and Looker glances at you and Raihan. "Good job," Looker grunts out, "Thanks for your help, I appreciate it."

"What's going to happen now?"

"You both need to come with me to the police station." Looker replies, and Raihan - still carrying you - begins to trail after him.

"You can let me down." You tell him but he merely smiles at you cheerfully.

"Nope, I like carrying my princess like this ~ "

...

At the police station, there's a lot to do but Looker releases both yourself and Raihan after a few hours; you have provided another set of testimony and it does appear the case is closed. He thanks you for your efforts in stopping the obsessed fan and also your assistance with police investigation. Unused to receiving compliments, you stuttered out that you didn't do anything substantial. Meanwhile, there is some damage to Rose Tower but Macro Cosmos will deal with this themselves and Looker will ensure there are no repercussions on you and Raihan. When you ask Looker what will happen next, Looker informs you that the fan is charged with a number of crimes - recording illegally, blackmail, abuse of employee rights, invasion of privacy, attempted murder and pokemon slaughter. It will depend if charges are to be pressed - in a few days, she could stand trial and her pokemon, confiscated.

Attempted murder? It sounds serious and you scratch your head in befuddlement. It's taking a while to sink in that you were in a dangerous situation earlier...it's like something out of a crime drama or an action movie. Again, these sorts of stuff might happen to your friends, yes. Just not...you.

You can't help but wonder how Raihan feels. Is he doing well? Should he see a counsellor after this? Is he traumatised? You stand at the vending machine, slotting in coins for two fresh waters. You collect the drinks and turn round to see Raihan sitting quietly with his gaze trained on the floor. He's not on his phone, either. You sit down beside him and hand him the bottle of water; he thanks you, unscrews the lid and takes a few gulps.

You both sit in silence for a while until you say, "Do you want to talk about it?"

He breathes in and exhales gently then leans back on the seat, resting his elbows on the chair and looks up at the ceiling. You guess he isn’t in a mood to talk - which you will respect so you don't press him any further. However, he reaches for you, lifts you off your seat and eases you into his lap. He lifts you up as though you weighed nothing. You blink owlishly as he encircles his arms around your waist and buries his nose into your hair, inhaling your scent. You're unmoving for a few moments before you slowly wrap your arms around him. Your action prompts him to clutch onto you tighter, his grip on you increasing.

It becomes a full body hug with your chest pressed tightly against his and your hips knocking together, your arms wrapped tightly around his neck whilst he holds you by the waist. You’re so close to him you can feel his breath on your cheeks. You rest your chin on his shoulder and give him a little rub on his back. His muscles are tense. You hope he will loosen up but all Raihan does is hold you close to him and you can feel the warmth that radiates from his body as well as his steady heartbeat. This actually feels...nice.

There's never a dull moment with Raihan, because he begins trailing little kisses over the side of your face as you cling onto him. You can feel him grinning against your skin before he presses another kiss over your cheek and finally, your lips.

...

Once you return home, you open the door to see Glenn in your living room, playing with your Pokemon. He's wearing a Hydreigon hood with Hydreigon sock puppets on each hand. You bristle at the sight but say nothing. Meanwhile, Espeon sits at his feet, watching. Even Poliwag has left the bathroom and is now sitting in the armchair to his left. Upon your arrival, everyone looks up and Glenn removes the hood and grins widely at you, "Yo!!! How was the date?"

You exhale loudly as you trudge over, removing your bag and collapsing over the couch beside him; you drop your head on his shoulder and groan. "It was fine. I have something for you." You take out Ponyta's pokeball and hand it to him. Glenn has been looking for one for a long time and you know he really wants one, so you figured you'd gift it to him.

"Ohh, a pokemon! This is so exciting! I wonder what's inside?" Glenn takes the pokeball off you and opens it, releasing the horse pokemon and for a few seconds, he's stunned as it lets out a high-pitched whinny and clops its hooves. Glenn's jaw hits the floor. "Oh my Drowzee, whaaaaaat! No way!! Whaaaaaaat? Nooooo, it can't be - whaaaat!"

"Yep, it's a Galarian Ponyta."

He lets out a hoot of joy. "Thanks, sis!!!!" Glenn exclaims cheerfully as he reaches over and pinches at your nose with his fingers hidden behind the Hydreigon puppet before he rushes over to the Ponyta and throws his arms around it. "Ohhh, you're so beautiful, yes you are!! I'm gonna call you 'Sugarplum'."

You giggle as Glenn continues fawning and doting over the Ponyta who neighs in response as he hugs it. It appears to have taken a liking to him immediately and he returns it to the ball, grinning widely. "Thanks, sis!"

"Raihan caught it but he gave it to me.”

He blinks. "Really?! That's amazing! Can you thank him for me?"

"Of course."

You and Glenn settle on the couch again where he continues where he left off with the Hydreigon puppet, "Hydreigon used Dazzling Gleam!"

You wrinkle your nose in response; you don't remember Hydreigon being capable of using this fairy type move, but you're well aware Glenn likes to improvise a lot. "Do you have another puppet?"

"I sure do." Glenn fishes around his bag and gives you a puppet - it's an Espurr with pink beady, glassy eyes - and you promptly drape it over your right hand. Phantump and Drifloon watch, engrossed. "Hydreigon used Dark Pulse!"

"Nooooo, it's super effective!" You cry, shaking your puppet and Espeon hisses angrily at Glenn, "But Espurr clung on using it's Focus Sash! Espurr used Play Rough!"

"It's super effective!!!" Glenn roars, throwing his fists into the air, "Hydreigon regained a little of it's HP using its Leftovers! Hydreigon used Dragon Pulse!"

"Espurr fainted!" You yell, and you make the Espurr puppet squeak with pain before doubling over. Phantump trills loudly in response whilst Poliwag and Drifloon looks between the two of you. And Espeon is still hissing in dismay. When it grows silent, the two of you burst into laughter before you drop to the couch, exhausted.

"Long day, huh?" He asks, when you stop laughing.

"Yeah," You say, "...It was a long day."

...

[melaninkpopimagines]

Luv Bug

warning: smut 

Word count: 1.5k

author: admin Jazzi

y/n sat in the middle of the bed  she shared with jonathan. Her heart heavy and her cheeks  stained with tears. She couldn't describe how she felt other than numb.  His infidelities didn't hurt her anymore. She  couldn't even count how many times she’d seen a picture with him with some random instagram baddie, while  scrolling through her feed. It hurt because none of those girls looked anything like her. she didn't have that perfect body that he had a habit of showing off on social media or in his music videos. It felt like she was hidden away, like he was ashamed of being with her. 

He didn't understand how that felt. He didn't get how his choices destroyed her.  He’d tell her that she  was tripping. That she was trying to start an argument. That she  knew that being a rapper had a certain look, one that needed to be maintained until he met his goal.  her feelings were always dismissed  as petty thoughts of a jealous bitch. 

Well she  couldn't handle that anymore. 

She  wanted to make sure he couldn't dismiss  how she felt about his recent activities. 

She decided that night she was going to leave him silently. She had enough. She wasn't sure if he’d even care about losing her; but she wasn't going to sit around and be a fool for him any longer.

 y/n has always been independent. Even though Jonathon helped her find her  fashion company, everything was hers and she  quickly paid him the money he gave her with interest. So while he was out of town for business she began moving her things into an apartment she began renting a week before. 

She was moving her last box into her mercedes, when she felt a hand on her hip. “Where are you going with all that stuff, mama?” Jonathon’s low scruffy voice rang in her ear. She  turned around. Her eyes barely met since he was a little shorter than her. She preferred not looking into his eyes, she knew he could convince her to do anything with his puppy dog eyes. 

“Maybe we should go inside.” she sighed. 

He looked at her confused. “Are you okay.” Jonathon took another glance into the car. “Why is the picture of your moms in that box?” 

 She sighed and walked inside, coldly ignoring his questions. As they both made it through the door’s threshold, he grabbed her arm. “What in the hell is going on Y/N, are you leaving me?” she looked at him and silently nodded. “You were going to leave me, while I was gone? You couldn't even face me?” he voice began to raise. y/n shrugged. “Did you ever discuss it with me before you fucked other bitches?”

He groaned loudly? “This bullshit again?”

“Yes! This bullshit again!’’ she yelled. She walked away from jonathan. He grabbed her arm and pulled her around. “Talk to me!” Jonathon yelled. “I'VE TRIED TO TALK TO YOU!” tears suddenly flooded her face. Her voice shook as she tried to calm down. “But you  ignored me Jon. you acted like my pain was nothing. Like I! I was nothing. Your career, your homies, these bitches, They all came before me! As much as i support your dreams, i have my own dreams!”

“Didn't i fund your business? I support your dreams too!” he said. 

She sighed.

“My dreams don't need your money. That's the difference between me and just about everyone else in your life. We could have been completely broke and I'd still be by your side. Because i wanted to spend the rest of our life together. I wanted to hold each other every night. I wanted to be a good stepmother to your daughter. I wanted a baby of my own. I-” 

“You keep saying wanted? What you done wit me for good. You don't want all that with me anymore?” his voice got low again. 

She sighed. “I do; but i realized i will never be important enough in your life, for you to want that with me.”

He sat there silently for a moment. 

But the silence was enough. She softly kissed his cheek. Jonathon pulled her into a tight hug, then a kiss. 

It was the most passionate, tinder kiss he’d given her in a long time.

He held onto her tightly, she could feel his warm tears against her own cheeks. Her breath caught in her chest. “Jon stop. Don't try and convince me you’ll change. Ill feel stupid when you break my heart again.” she said. 

“I know i fucked up,” he started, “i know aint no fixing this shit. Can you at least stay with me tonight? I can't sleep without you.”

He looked her in her eyes. Those eyes she knew would convince her. She nodded slowly. 

The way he held her. Them both standing completely silent, it was like time had stopped. She shut her eyes and breathed in his sweet scent. Then his soft lips met hers again. Her tongue grazing his grill slightly. His hand ran down her back and he took a big grip of her ass. He picked her up with a swiftness that made her squeal. Even at her heaviest he had no problem picking her up. 

Lost in his lips she barely noticed him carrying her into the bedroom. He pushed her skirt up, quickly getting rid of her panties. She closed her eyes and  listened to his breathing as he examined her body. His breathing became heavier as he saw her dripping wet center. Her heart was pounding, she felt like it would jump out of her chest. She never felt this exposed in front of him. He pushed her legs up, commanding her to hold them. “Don't move.” he instructed. A low groan pierced the silence of the room as Jonathon dived in and began eating her out, like he had never done before. 

Her body shook as she tried her best to concentrate and keep her legs up; but she was so close to her orgasm already. It built up so quickly she barely had time to warn him. She quickly let go of her legs, letting them shut. Nearly traping his head between them. And even though she was screaming and begging, he pushed her thick thighs apart and continued his bellicose assault on her clit. Another intense orgasm washed over her.

“Please fuck me Jon! Fuck!” she begged, pushing at his head, as an attempt to get a break from his amazing tongue. 

She closed her eyes and tried to breath in and out slowly. The next sound to fill her ears was the sound of his zipper. He moved between her legs, holding them apart as his tip slipped into her slick hole. She gripped his arms tightly and moaned his name. He slowly pumped in and out of her, stretching her slowly until he completely filled her up. 

It was complete bliss. The numbness of her legs as he pounded into her. His hand wrapped around her throat and squeezed just enough to make her gulp. Her eyes rolled back in her head. 

He held her by her throat as he pounded into her, loving every small noise, squeal and scream. She pleaded with him not to stop. She begged him to keep going because she was so close. He had no plans to stop. He wanted her to come as many times as possible. But he wanted to feel deeper inside her. He turned her onto her stomach and pulled her ass up into the air. She panted as he spit on the tip of his dick and penetrated her. Grabbing a handful of her kinky hair, and mercilessly pounding into her. “Fuck take this dick baby, youre such a good girl.” he held her as he pumped into her. His voice and filthy words that flowed out of his mouth were once again pushing her over the edge. 

She screamed and pushed her ass back on his dick. “Thats right mama fuck yourself on this dick.” he said in a calm low voice. She shut her eyes. This orgasm ripped through her like no other. 

He fucked her through the intense orgasm, then turned her onto her back. He pulled her so her head hung over the edge of the bed. “Open up.”he commanded. She opened her mouth and watched as he spit into her mouth. Then he slid into her mouth and began fucking her mouth. It was sloppy. Her eyes watered. And he used his fingers to pump in and out of her, matching his thrusts into her mouth. She didn't know if she could handle another orgasm; but she had no time to stop what was already coming. 

Her body began shaking again. She closed her eyes as his nut filled her throat.

He slowly slipped out of her mouth, letting his nut spill out over her face. He smirked looking down at her mess of a face.

After cleaning her off, Jonathon held y/n as closely as he could and slowly fell asleep.

When he woke up the next morning her side of the bed was empty. He looked around the house, then into the driveway, where he saw her car was gone. 

[judehayward]

lady gaga voice slowly fadin in: ju-Das juda-ah-ah… this depressed goblin bastard is honestly my fav male muse like i dnt typically stick w male muses tht long i struggle bt................. i’ve played him the longest of them all n always seem to return to him. jst cnt stay away. way 2 attached to this absurd little man. it’s nai btw!!!! (josefine on the main). launches right in to jude’s intro without further adieu..... (u can also find his playlist here) 🧙‍🎨

「douglas booth & cis-male」⇾ hayward , jude, the senior radcliffe student’s records show that he is a pisces and 23 years old. he is studying ART, living in moris and can be protective, laidback, nonsensical & apathetic. when i see him i am reminded of wearing a faded smiley face sticker on your forehead while receiving a serious lecture, saying “fuck off” to inanimate objects, lead marbles instead of eyes. ⇽「nai & 23 & gmt & she/her.」

he pinterest:

me in the voice of a card magician performing on the street: round up round up pick a pinterest any pinterest!

ta-da it’s aesthetics:

lead marbles instead of eyes, a stolen hearse careening down the wrong lane, wearing a faded smiley face sticker on your forehead while receiving a serious lecture, bags under the eyes that are so big they could pack enough clothes for a three week vacation, a cigarette wobbling from your bottom lip as you squint against the sunlight, passing out on a stranger’s rooftop, placing sunglasses over the eyes of a biology lab skeleton, gangling around the place like shaggy minus his scooby snacks, saying “fuck off” to inanimate objects

about tha Bitch:

born in sheffield in england, bt they went back and forth between there n san fran a lot

jude was an unhappy accident. his parents never rly used protection bc they were super Liberal n Au Naturel n believed in the pull out method bc… they were maniacs. bt then the ONE time they used a condom in an effort to b safety conscious it broke n hence…. jude was born

they just kind of ran w it bc they had such a passionate relationship tht they were like What The Hell…. may as well! itll be fine we’ll learn to be good parents n love him like normal ppl do

spoiler alert: tht didn’t work out

they were ok to him like they weren’t fully Bad bt they just found him to be a massive burden n hindrance to their plans. pretty absent n irresponsible. they literally….. had sex all day every day n acted like a pair of teenagers. it ws a super weird environment for a kid to grow up in bc he literally had no role models or… guidance or…. anything rly. occasionally they’d joke around w him or pretend they properly knew what grade he was going into but for the most part they just Didn’t Care the way parents shd. they lost his birth certificate n dnt remember what they put as his middle name so he’s jst kind of like hmmmm............. n gives himself a diff one every time ppl ask. past variations hv included: jude pauly hayward, jude maureen hayward, jude van winkle hayward. says all of these w a very straight face

despite this he does hv some nice memories w them. usually he definitely sees them fr holidays. frm being rly young their christmas tradition hs been to get a bunch of chinese food like a Banquet Feast n spend all day smoking n drinking into the early hours. perhaps not the healthiest or most responsible bt 😔 jude rly likes it it’s kind of the one time of yr he feels he has a proper family

they r both suuuuper into the arts. rly good sculptors bt they paint too n they actually own a successful gallery in sheffield n san fran

(trauma tw) as a result he grew up around a lot of creative n sometimes pretentious ppl. the friends of his parents were more present in his life than his ACTUAL parents bc they were always jetting off to diff countries to scout out new pieces fr their galleries n just have a gd time in beautiful places without…. the annoyance tht ws being responsible n looking after someone. tbh some of his parents friends were rly damaging too bt….i won’t go into that just yet. it doesn’t rly…need properly explaining bc jude never talks abt it anyway n it….is rather triggering so i’ll jst….leav it for now tbh. basically they just were Not Nice n jude had a lot of bad memories he keeps repressed bt he also??? has some gd ones..... it was a strange environment bt he’s a survivor

(death n grief tw) he hd to do community service bc he kind of… hd a bit of a breakdown before the funeral of his elderly neighbour who bsically raised him bc her kids rly didnt care abt her they jst wanted her inheritance?? so he… stole the hearse w her casket still in it n ws jst like… drivin around the place sort of… tryin nt to cry…..KJJFHSFKJGHKFG i mean. it isnt funny its actually sad bt :/ in a very bizarre n jude way. he gt caught n taken in fr questioning bt her son kind of realised hw… broken up abt her death jude ws n had a heart n didnt press charges. regardless he stil hd to do community service bc it ws like taken seriously even tho it ws his first proper offence. doin it rly exhausted n depressed him so when he wsnt doin tht he ws just hibernatin in his room……. this ws like 4 months ago nw............ just some fun lore fr u all

bc of how he ws raised he has a p cultured taste. he luvs classic lit n p much anything artsy. he can play piano 2 n sometimes gets rly high n thinks he’s mozart level gd at composing he’s jst going fking wild on the keys in a trance...... i mean he’s gd bt… chill

he’s rly sarcastic n so deadpan like he’ll say smthn completely ridiculous bt he’ll say it w his whole chest so sincere.... it’s rly hard to tell when he’s joking or serious honestly. has an overflowing secret sketchbook n if he cares abt someone he’ll probably secretly draw them. does NOT share these drawings w the person he hates being openly sentimental. at heart he is jst a very Sad Boy w lots of repressed issues like depression genuinely just does NAT giv him a single break bt he plasters over this w wise cracks n never discusses his emotions ever. he’s actually p decent or at least tries to b. he’s kind of like tht bit in superbad where michael cera gets rly drunk n makes a toast to women like tht energy...........

he has rly bad insomnia so he like never sleeps idk how he’s Alive straight up. please go to bed sir............. he always has rly sleepy eyes n rubs them tiredly mid conversation. he smokes a lot of weed to try n compensate fr this n make him tired bt he still struggles a lot

ANYWAY that aside he’s at radcliffe doing art, focusing on fine art like painting is............... the thing he luvs most...... his style is kind of.......... taking normal things n painting w surreal colours.... he likes A LOT of colour in his paintings which is kind of a stark contrast to his personality bc his world’s so.... washed out n grey............ lovs art n philosophy n literature n photography n music.... 

ummMMMMmm honestly idk i’m blankin on what else to say. ull find him smoking weed reading an american classic or gnawing at his thumbnail n getting charcoal smudges on all his clothes. wandering the streets in plaid pj bottoms n dr martens eating frm a cereal box without care in the world. he’s p broody n scruffy n he’s mostly here fr a laidback time....... doesn’t rly like when ppl take themselves too seriously........ likes strange ppl thinks the world is mde richer by them n likes when ppl can jst bounce back jokes at him without being like erm. u dont make sense mate. bc frankly he can come up w some strange stuff sometimes.............. talking to him cn b like navigating a dark n bendy road without a flashlight....... 

(drugs tw) once did shrooms n woke up naked in the woods curled up in a pile of leaves. to this day he recounts this as his werewolf transformation. hs no idea hw he ended up there n when ppl r like are u not. concerned jude. tht is so strange? he jst shrugs like.............. dunno....................... suppose i’m jst a werewolf upon occasion. so casual abt it. jst truly does Not care abt most things at all..... almost to the point tht it’s concerning (sometimes way past the point tht it’s concerning too :/)

this is the desc on an aesthetic i mde of his style once n sums it up well!! ‘additionally: too many pairs of trousers, a hideous amount of white t-shirts all somewhat stained with charcoal, a jumper so thinly knit it almost looks sheer, chipped teale nail varnish, a cream corduroy jacket with a cigarette hole singed onto the cuff, vintage wiry reading glasses he almost never wears, a freshly rolled cigarette behind his ear, a thrifted t-shirt with a warped bart simpson wearing a stethoscope with the caption ‘bard knwos cardiology’ and two crops hacked that way with kitchen scissors that he sometimes wears to paint.‘

EXPERT at rolling spliffs like jst. mkes them so precise n neat....... it’s his super power. his fav thing to smoke frm is banana flavour papers.................... linking 2 this he’s like. bad w emotions bt he does try..... once his friend (maggie) ws sad so he brought her a spliff wrapped in grape flavoured paper bc it’s her fav fruit n jst like. wordlessly gave it to her. it’s the thought tht counts.....

PLOTS!!!!!

plays bass in a band which cld b a fun connection to get together??? i picture the music being like surf rock type like........... mac demarco...... bt he also luvs elliott smith n glass animals n the cure n metronomy n neutral milk hotel n talking heads n radiohead n mazzy star n wolf alice...................... idk jst like.... within tht ballpark i suppose i imagine it being................

mayb ppl he shares classes w?????? i’d like someone tht does a similar course n they hang out tgether when it comes to trips fr the module to museums or exhibits or wtever................ they both stand in front of paintings analysing it rly wrong n saying stuff like hmmmmmmmmm....... i do declare i see a, uh..... large phallus protruding from the centre of this image...... moves something in me.......... n some elderly person looking at it besides them is like Ergh. sickened n disgraced. leaves w a brow severely furrowed

someone he smokes w on the moris rooftop late at night when he cnt sleep??? mayb they’re up n cnt sleep either fr whtever reason n it’s become an unspoken kind of ritual where they always clamber out n find each other there n jst wordlessly keep them company

jude is kind of like. protective almost to a fault sometimes........... mayb some guy he’s punched......................... if they hurt someone he cares abt........... typically it wld hv been a girl he ws kind of like. affected by his first relationship bc she had a bad home situation n ever since jst wnts..... to Protect it’s kind of like an automatic instinct ingrained in him nw 😔 all sounds very noble n well bt sometimes it cn b a bit of an escalation i wnt lie

perhaps a few hook-ups??? jude doesn’t tend to sleep w ppl he rly knows bc he just..... likes it to b an impersonal thing doesn’t like getting attached fr various reasons so mayb they only kno each other via this OR mayb he bent his rules a bit..... cld either work seamlessly or hv added drama if one side hs mre feelings or whtever

currently living in moris w 2 roommates bt i’d love some neighbours perhaps..... mayb someone tht lives directly nxt door to his room n is like ://// bc he plays music loud n weeds always drifting frm his window n mking their room smell if theirs is open too................. or mayb they get on..... mayb there’s a rly mean seagull tht lands on a branch n poos on pedestrians n they both commentate on it frm their windows like david attenborough...... they’re like he’s at it again. they’ve named him n everything

HONESTLY anything if u have an idea hmu i’d love 2 hear it.......... rubs my hands tgether in excitement to plot up a storm w u all

[gumnut-logic]

The Servo

This is Sotto Voce AU. Timeline after The One with the Talking Cow. The Sotto Voce Universe is gen with lots of whump and angst.

I don’t know whether this is going anywhere. I just pulled over to the side of the road and wrote. This is what came out. I hope you enjoy it anyway.

-o-o-o-

He drew attention from the moment he pulled up at our servo. Now I know those people over in Cairns might be used to that kind of car, but we certainly aren’t. It was metallic green and it shimmered in the afternoon sun. For a bit I thought he might be lost, but he jumped out of the car looking happy enough.

He stood there for a moment, apparently staring at his car, but the laugh that burst from him led me to realise that there was someone else with him.

That someone else turned out to be a shorter man, sun bleached and smiling just as much as his darker haired companion. It was at that point I realised that the Lamborghini, because, yes, it was a green Lamborghini and very nicely decked out one at that, was left hand drive and had obviously been imported from somewhere far from here.

The shorter man jumped out of the driver’s seat and waved the first man into our little one stop shop. He then proceeded to pump petrol into the car.

He was a good looking man, I can tell you that. Hair a little scruffy and stubble that read style more than neglect. He wore a pair of sunnies that spoke cool, calm and certainly not short of cash. He was simply dressed, but he walked with poise and I had no doubt that he sported some nice eye candy under that flannel shirt.

Actually, come to think of it, the flannel was odd. We do live in the semi-arid tropics. It wasn’t like he would need to keep warm.

When he reached the door, though, all that fell away from him. He hesitated. His hand reached for the door, but pulled back, almost as if he was afraid.

Now I know our one horse town, shanty servo wasn’t much to look at, and is certainly far from those swish On The Go outlets you get in the larger towns, but I like to think we are friendly to local, tourist and truckie alike.

He took a step back and his shoulders dropped.

I was about to walk around the counter and go and speak to him, ask him if he needed help, but then he started talking to himself.

I could just hear him. His voice was soft and a little worried. It sounded like he was attempting to talk himself into opening the door. He blinked and flinched at least twice and he went from confident to almost frail in seconds.

I hurried out to the door and opened it slowly. “Sir, can I help you?”

He startled, but seemed to get a hold of himself. “Uh, um, we’re just getting gas. Do you have any soda for sale?”

Definitely American. We get a few of those around here from time to time, mostly tourists, but occasionally business people travelling between cities.

“Sure, luv, come in. We’ve got the usual Coke, Fanta, juices, water, all up the back there.” I pointed in the direction of the fridges. “Do you have a preference?”

“Coffee?”

“No coffee!” The shout came from the car where the other man was finishing up with the petrol cap in one hand. “Virgil, I told you, no coffee!”

‘Virgil’ rolled his eyes. “Coke it is then.”

I smiled at him. “I’ll grab you a couple.”

I hurried up the back and pulled out two 600ml bottles and brought them around to the cash register.

Virgil was still standing in the door.

“Sir?”

Again, he startled as if he had been miles away. “Oh, I’m sorry. Um, Gordon is just finishing up with the car, he’ll be in with the card in a moment.” And he turned to look at the shelves, apparently browsing, but he obviously wasn’t.

It was so odd. He was definitely a rich man, healthy looking, though admittedly, I couldn’t see behind his sunglasses. One minute happy and confident, the next frightened and vulnerable.

And talking to himself.

He was at it again.

But then it occurred to me that maybe he wasn’t talking to himself, maybe he had a pair of earbuds in and he was talking on his phone. I couldn’t see any, but there were always new fangled things coming out.

“Eos, that’s not funny!”

It was my turn to jump. He wasn’t angry, more frustrated, but he was shouting it at, well, no one.

Phone, he has a phone in his pocket, Ella, calm down.

“Well, you’re the one bugging me.” His frown was enough to split his face in two.

‘Gordon’ chose that moment to bounce in through the doors and clap a hand on Virgil’s shoulder. “You’re talking to yourself again.”

“What?” Virgil blinked, stared at me for a second and looked away. “Shit.”

“I should never have bought you that phone.” Gordon smiled at him and I admit, I felt some relief.

Virgil darted another glance at me and to my surprise that vulnerability and fear was back. It was horrible to see a confident man so stricken over something so simple.

Gordon squeezed his shoulder and stepped away, pulling a very fancy credit card out of his wallet.

Perhaps they would have paid their bill and driven off and I would have been none the wiser to who they were, but at that moment a semi pulled into the driveway.

This was nothing unusual. Semi-trailers are a mainstay of our custom. Except this one didn’t slow down.

It didn’t stop.

It ploughed right through our front door.

-o-o-o-

TBC?

[jaeausten]

My thoughts on Sanditon 1x06 (Beware, here be spoilers...)

Okay, up until now I have been watching Sanditon with mixed feelings, most of it positive, but Sundays episode left me screaming WTF at my tv.

In this house, Andrew Davies is a legend. His television adaptations of the classics has always let me soak into the world of Austen, Dickens etc and has been a welcome escape from the various shitty things in my life. He has been adapting books for tv series for decades and I thought that Sanditon was going to be full of the things I love about Jane Austen’s works and subsequent adaptations (wit, satire, self possessed, independent thinking heroines and intelligent, impeccably behaved heroes) with anything else left strictly to the imagination. Austen’s works have always had elegance and propriety to them (even when dealing with sex and ruin) that simply does not appear in this adaptation. There is such a sense of pandering to modern tastes in this episode of Sanditon that I cannot get past...or forgive. This is not an Austen adaptation and I am a little upset that Andrew Davies has interpreted Austen like this. People like Austen for all the subtlety and repressed sexual tension and although Jane did not write more than 11 chapters of Sanditon, surely Andrew has had enough experience dealing with this genre and original material to have written the rest of the story the way Jane might actually have intended.

Anyway, to the episode. I was literally jumping in my seat at the end of episode 1x05 when Charlotte set off on her plucky adventure to Set Things Right and help bring Georgiana home. But when this episode started, it soon became clear that Charlotte had arrived in London with only the flimsiest scrap of a plan and little to no money! (Note- In the rest of the series, Charlotte can be impulsive, but not stupid). Next, Charlotte is made to demonstrate another act of uncharacteristic stupidity by aimlessly wandering around the back streets and alleyways near the docks acting the fresh country girl ripe for the plucking. And of course, someone grabs her. She is rescued by Sidney, but this trope of stupid, naive country girl puts herself in a dangerous situation and has to be rescued by the hero pisses me off.

Oh, and Fyi costume designer, Charlotte should be wearing her hair up, UP, UUUUUUUUUUUPPPPPPPPPPP!!! 

When Sidney tells Charlotte off in the carriage, I kind of thought that he had a point; reminding her that there can be other motives for marriage than love, but her looking shocked that this could be so surprises me as she has not previously written to be so naive. But, if you see it from her point of view, Otis rocked up looking dandy af a couple of episodes ago (I’m assuming that Charlotte thought that Otis might not need Georgiana’s money with that snazzy outfit on) and spouting romantic feelings and the telling of a genuinely funny first meeting with Georgiana made her think that it was for love and that it must be prejudice as his fortune has been made from slavery! Charlotte accuses Sidney of being less than forthcoming about his objections to Otis and he is pissed that his vague af explanation did not satisfy our independent thinking heroine. But as I see it, if you can be a first class asshole and scream into the heroine’s face while losing your temper in the street, you sure as hell can be explicit about why you ask someone to keep an extra eye on your ward. Just saying....

Also, Sidney’s behaviour throughout this series to Charlotte has been so far from an Austen hero and has made me dislike him so intensely that I have rooted for young Stringer as Charlotte’s eventual husband (though we all know that’s not going to happen, don’t we). An Austen hero never lets his anger show too strongly nor bellows at the heroine in the street. But apart from the story, good manners in that era and at that social level would prohibit any true gentleman from doing so. 

Andrew, if you are not going to follow Austen’s style, then place it in the proper confines of the period. Good fucking manners always prevail!!!!!!!!!

Taking Charlotte to a Brothel?!?!?!?!?!? Gently bred females do not get taken by an Austen hero to a brothel, Jesus Christ! Would this happen in reality? Not really! This scene seems to have been lifted out of the pages of a bodice ripper (not that I have any objection to bodice rippers- I frequently read and love them myself- but in an Austen? No, just no).

Charlotte preventing Sidney from beating the shit out of Otis for ruining Georgiana’s rep with a gentle plea while he reigns in his rage for her by focusing on her face, oh my heart... Still not Austen tho...

There’s finally a flash of the old sensible Charlotte when she figures out that Georgiana might still be held in London, whoops, I sneezed, back to the naive country girl trope that doesn’t fit. 

Ewwwww, the fat, misogynistic fucker making a joke about breaking in horses being similar to handling wives while drooling over a forcibly restrained woman just had to be in there didn’t it?  

It just bugs me why Clara, Edward and Esther don’t seem to take Lady Denham seriously when she has said repeatedly thought the entire series so far that none of them will benefit monetarily from her death, yet when the will is eventually found, Clara and Edward are outraged when nothing is left to them?

I can’t decide if Charlotte is still the annoying country girl from the beginning of the episode or the plucky heroine determined to find out the truth when she refuses to stay in the carriage when Sidney goes into the brothel where he is clearly a regular member...

‘You haven’t made an honest man of our Mr Parker, have you?’ 

‘GrAcIOuS NOOOO!’

Sidney’s face. One second of pained outrage. Classic!

Ooooohhhhhhh, a dramatic carriage chase. Area man in a cravat leaping to another carriage to bring the horses to a halt and rescue a girl. Melodrama meets western...

Oh look, Clara has found the hidden will and taken the time to put on a new dress and villain smirk of crazed triumph. Fuck off luv!

Oh. My. God.

Ewwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwww!!!!!!!!!!!!

Jumping each other and having grunting, rough af sex on the cold marble floor to seal their devils deal? Um, ewwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwww!

This is the most unAusten disgrace of the entire episode. This is what almost made me turn off the tv, but I wanted to see what else happened in the episode, so I put it on mute and glanced through my fingers occasionally. Wtf, Andrew Davies! You are so much better than this! Your experience and Austen lovers could have done without a gratuitous sex scene. Not only was it uncharacteristic in a work claiming to be based on an Austen, but it was jarring with the melodrama of the rest of the episode and quite clumsy in it’s execution. It took me completely off guard and tbh, it was fucking gross.

Here that? It’s poor Jane Austen, spinning in her grave...

Georgiana is restored to the bosom of her cold hearted guardian. Or is he? Finally, a Austenian trope! Thank fuck! Misunderstood asshole who can be capable of compassion and clearing an unworthy gentleman’s debts with his wealth to make the heroine realise he is not a complete dickhead? Can you guess which Austen hero I‘m referring to?

A manly heart to heart is in order. This is a scene that would never be in an Austen as Jane never wrote a scene that she herself could not have experienced, but I’ll let that go if it means Sidney won’t stay a twat...

Oh dear Lord, Charlotte doubts herself because she feels she has disappointed Sidney. Heroine doubts her previous harsh judgement of the hero is so Austen, I both cheered and groaned. Yay Austen! Nay Charlotte having a bad opinion of her own instincts which have been written to appear to come out of her perceived sheltered lifestyle and naivety. On the one hand, she is written as knowing nothing much about real life and needs firm handling to avoid becoming a complete idiot, and yet she is also written to understand architecture and shows clear headedness when old Stringer breaks his leg. I’m having trouble with this pendulum swinging here!

Dear God, why is Charlotte’s hair all scruffy like that? Why is it still not UUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPP!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

I was rooting for Otis and Georgiana, but Otis proved himself kind of a douchebag. Georgiana realises that Otis is spouting bullshit when he says he only boasted of her beautiful soul to the gambling fucker, when in reality he had been dangling her and her fortune to appease a creditor. He seems sincere when he apologises though and it’s clear he does love her. But he wants to have his cake and eat it, so Georgiana out...

Oooh, that total sweetheart Babbington just showed up! I have to keep reminding myself that he isn’t Grenn from Got looking fit af in his regency gear. Rawr...

Why in the actual fuck is Charlotte refusing invitation to a London masquerade ball? Who does that? Sidney obviously expects her to be cheered right up by this and damn it, I do to! Georgiana is back safe and sound (almost) and Sanditon is about to be saved by the Regatta! She doesn’t feel sociable!? Her being sad by Sidney’s apparent bad opinion of her? Fuck that shit! Have some fucking self respect and get out there! A girl’s first visit to London on a mission (albeit in less than fun circumstances), friend is saved and you are invited to a big ass masquerade ball and you say no because of a man’s opinion?!?!?!?!?!?!?

Sidney spouts crap about underestimating her while looking sheepishly adorable and Charlotte agrees to go to the ball. Knew she wanted to really... But I don’t get Sidney’s sudden change of heart about Charlotte and as for underestimating her, what for? She bollocksed up everything, except for guessing that Georgiana was still held in London so they didn’t need to go off on a wild goose chase to Gretna Green. The episode up until that second has been Sidney treating her like she is a child who has made things unnecessarily difficult and not worthy of respect or a kind word. I don’t buy this. Sorry.

The ball!!!!!!!!

Poor Tom! No one gives a shit about the Regatta at the ball and one man even throws Tom’s card on the floor! Rude. Oh well, at least he looks da bomb in his burgundy silk ensemble.

Charlotte’s disappointed in the ball and wants to leave?!?!?!? Disappointed!?!?!? In a London ball! She’s only been there for five minutes and hasn’t done the obligatory sexually charged dance in a fabulous dress with the brooding hero yet! I know she is upset that they have left Georgiana at home and that’s fine, it shows that she has sensibilities and compassion for a friend, but come on! 

Why is she asking Sidney’s opinion to leave? Why is she putting herself down? Yes, Sidney’s behaviour has definitely led her to believe that she is too headstrong and opinionated, but I don’t think she’s too much. The way she has been written up until this episode has been what has made her interesting. Austen heroine’s do go through this in the last third of the story though.

Oh, now he thinks those things are cute. No wonder Charlotte is confused. I am.

Why in holy fuck is Charlotte telling absolutely everything to a total stranger?!?! I get that it is a human thing to want to pour out your heart and problems to someone who can take a step back and see things from a different perspective, but Austen heroine’s keep their fucking counsel! Also, in the time period at that level of society, spilling your secrets to a stranger opens everyone involved up to potential scandal. Good fucking God. This is not even reality at this point!

Charlotte in love with Sidney? Surely not Queen Susan. It’s glaring that Charlotte does love Sidney at this point. Treat them mean, make them fall in love with you, I guess.

Ooooh, the smoulder! Fuck, it’s even working on me!

Jesus Christ, this dance has everything. Not taking their soft eyes off of each others, gradually getting more intense as the dance goes on. Tender brushings of hands. The waltz with his head bent to hers with while being a bit too close for proprieties sake. The way they move in perfect harmony in a way that has not been in evidence in their interactions before. Lingering touches when they have to part in the dance. Taut sexual tension dripping from every step. Both suddenly grinning their arses off when the dance gets faster. The slow-mo shot showing them falling deeper into love. Ending the dance in extreme reluctance as it means they cannot be close in front of everyone anymore while looking stunned by their feelings. Divine! 

Uh oh. Enter old flame. Why did you have to spoil it Andrew?

I know that’s Theo’s actual real life wife, but there was no chemistry that I could see. I could go and get my binoculars. Eliza Campion, I know you won’t prevail, but please step it up for the next episode cos you haven’t convinced me yet.

Charlotte is happy and glowing with her new found awakening. I hope it will last. Of course not...

If you have managed to read to the end of this, well done! I certainly wouldn’t have! As you can see, most of this post has dealt with my feelings of incredulity at the way this episode has turned out. Don’t get me wrong, I really do like Sanditon, but Sunday’s episode has left me shaking my head in confusion. Andrew Davies work has always been top notch, but I wonder if the absence of full original source material has left him unable to write the fully realised characters of the Austen novels that we have come to expect. But injecting melodrama and bizarre about turns in terms of characters and their characterisation while introducing unnecessary scenes (you know the one I mean) has left this episode severely disjointed for me.

[technohumanlation]

Whumptober Day 21

The ever so lovely @whumptober2019 made a list of prompts to complete every day for the whole month of October and I’m giving a shot at it this year! 

Laced Drink

Characters: Nines, Gavin  

Warnings: Attempted Date Rape, violence, swearing, blood 

Give another round of applause for @deviantalicee for putting out this fire with gasoline a beta reading this. luv u hoe

Nines can’t remember the last time he had this much fun. Perhaps it was the fact that his definition of fun was strict and only a few things could make him smile. He was stoic, aloof and the serious type. That’s just how some people were. As Hank had once said, “knowing what makes you happy is all that matters.” A good book, a fast paced sparring session with Sixty, or a shower to be alone with his thoughts were pleasurable things.  

Tonight was fun - is fun. Gavin and himself had set out to a local bar on a rowdy Friday night. A local band was also playing and providing entertaining music throughout the night. Everything was going well. 

Gavin was on his second glass of whiskey, taking his time to loosen up and enjoy the night as well. His kisses tasted sweet against his tongue. These were the intimate, lovelier moments in which Nines craved. When the world was shut out and all there was was the moment between them. 

His hand drew along his thigh reassuringly, turning to return watching the crowd. But, when he did so, a rather attractive android had bravely walked up to him. 

Gavin was smart to look away and allow his android to figure this one out alone, much to his dismay. He only looked back at Gavin with confusion written on his face when she had taken him by his hands and practically dragged him to the dance floor. He raised his glass and ticked it to him unhelpfully. 

She was gentle with her body as she danced and was truly a sweetheart in his eyes. But after a song and then two, Nines kissed her goodbye on the cheek and wished her night well. She wasn’t looking for anything and for that, Nines was thankful. 

He walked back to the bar - a dopey smile on his face. It felt natural and relaxed, his LED spiraling a lovely blue. This night was wonderful. It was...the smile slowly fell from his face when he noticed that Gavin wasn’t where he had left him. As a matter of fact, he wasn’t at the bar at all. 

His drink was left behind, the two ice cubes he specifically liked in his whiskey touching the bottom of the glass further. He looked up to the bartender but thought otherwise of his decision. There were countless patrons in the bar. Asking if he saw where a scruffy, hasn’t slept in four days, five o’clock shadowed man described about thirty percent of the people in here tonight. 

Nines looked back down to the drink. Gavin always finished his whiskey. He never wasted a single drop. Perhaps he went for a bathroom break. But even then it was etiquette to place a coaster atop the drink to let the bartender know the patron would be coming back. Or to at least finish it because of certain precautions. 

Unless.  No . His chest tightened, ice shooting down his spine. 

If he denied it, why was he taking the drink in hand and tasting it anyhow? His LED blinked a processing yellow as he swirled the drink in his mouth. It tasted of honey and stinging heat and the violent traces of rohypnol. A popular date rape drug. 

The android slammed down the drink, causing people around him to look his way. This time he flagged down the bartender. 

“Where is he ?” He muttered through grit teeth. 

 Gavin watched his android get pulled onto the dance floor by the pretty lady in black. He hadn’t felt this happy in a long while and he was glad Nines was loosening up and experiencing this as well. He watched as he danced with her for the first few moments before turning back around to enjoy his drink and perhaps check out a few men at the bar. It was alright to look but not touch. As for Nines, the android found that he leaned more towards men but liked women as well. Gavin on the other hand, enjoyed men only. 

Despite Nines being bisexual oriented, he knew Nines was all his. Having him experiment with both sides was fine by him. So as long as he was the one in his bed tonight. Gavin took another swig of whiskey but it was short. Funny, his drinks were hitting awfully hard tonight. He placed the glass down onto the bar and swallowed the mouthful with a raised eyebrow and curse. 

Well, maybe it was because he was drinking on an empty stomach. But then again, this was his second drink. Even if it was on an empty stomach, he would have only been buzzed. He purposely drank slow for this reason. His stomach churned and a sour expression came to his face. 

“Hey, I’ll be back alright?” He told the bartender. “Just powdering my nose.” The guy tipped his head in acknowledgment and went back to pouring drinks. Gavin stepped off the stool, not noticing another man at the end of the bar step away as well. 

Stumbling on the tilting ground, feeling the pounding bass of the electric song playing all too much, weaving through the swimming people, Gavin made his way towards the bathroom. What was just a rowdy Friday night at a local bar had turned into a night at a mirror house at a carnival. 

He was no longer having fun. He pushed open the door to the bathroom, putting his whole weight into his hand and stumbled inside. Once there, he placed a hand to his forehead and groaned. The door closed muffling the rowdy sounds from the bar. He was getting dizzier. His thoughts weren’t coherent. Was he sleeping? Was he standing? Was he sitting? “What tha...?” He slurred. 

The door opened again and Gavin turned around towards the distorted sound. He raised a hand in a halfhearted wave and smiled at the opposite shadow. 

He went to speak an apology about the room being occupied at the moment but the shadow took him by his forearms and shoved the side of his face into the tiled wall, leaving his back bare to him before he had the chance to attempt the apology. 

His mind was too cloudy and foggy to comprehend what was happening. Not even common sense made sense. What his mind tried to comprehend fizzled into sleepy blank thoughts. Deep down he knew something was definitely, absolutely  wrong but whatever coated that worry was too thick to fight through. 

He didn’t protest when a hand reached around him, groping his cock in hand. An involuntary shiver - one of the wrong kind - shot down his spine. He whimpered, trying to inch 

away from the touch. It was bad. This was bad but the force behind him was stronger, or he was just too weak to fight back. 

“We’re going to have a good time you and I.” The voice rumbled in his ear. Gavin tried to turn away but he was firmly planted into the cold wall. 

The hand around him smoothed along his hardening length - body betraying him. He...he didn’t want this... 

Behind him, the sound of a belt being fumbled echoed in his mind. He didn’t register it. Whatever blanket that fell over his eyes was thicker and clouded. He closed his eyes, mouth barely open to allow shallow slow breaths into his chest. 

A murmur of sick sweet nothings. “God, I knew you had a big cock the moment I saw you.” 

The body pressed closer into his. The sound of music flooding his ear. Something rigid poking into his ass, pressing harder, desperate. A door closing again. 

And then...then nothing. The weight pressed into him was gone and Gavin slid to his knees with his head still pressed against the wall. Limply, he turned onto his ass to sit and looked up. 

Another shadow loomed in front of him, heavily panting, fists by his sides and shaking. Nines stood before him in all his fearsome glory, LED at war with itself, fighting between red and yellow. 

 Against the back wall he wished it wasn’t what he was seeing. But, this was the reality that tonight had become. From fun to sickening  filth . 

He charged forward wordlessly, the fury, the absolute hatred and disgust for the thing before him taking over. All he saw was red. 

He wanted to see another kind of red. His hand took a fistful of the rapists’ hair and ripped him off of Gavin, throwing him against the bathroom sink and mirror with a roar. The sound of glass shattering, porcelain and bone cracking, crashed and echoed in the bathroom. He turned, facing the human as he fell to the ground limply. Hot delicious satisfaction rose in his chest upon the color he desired seeping from the human. 

But it wasn’t enough. Nothing would be enough. The hells that Nines had in store for this pathetic excuse of a sentient creature before him would  never be enough . 

He wanted to tear him piece by piece, limb from limb and hear him beg. How dare he target his love? How dare he try to-! 

Behind him, a meek, timid sound rose from Gavin’s throat. He turned around quickly and found tears to be prickling at the corners of his eyes. 

He was quick to stoop down in front of him and hold his face ever so gently as if he were glass. 

A quick scan proved that he was alright, despite the drunken stupor that the drugs had him under. His human tried to speak but a slurred version of his name and eyebrows pinching in confusion was all he could muster. 

Nines nodded, though remained silent. Even if he didn’t want to, he looked down just in case anything had indeed happened. He needed to know. Thankfully, his pants were still zipped and secure. But, he was aroused against his will, anything further-he couldn’t bear the thought, causing him to hiss in anger. Gently, he took Gavin by under his arms and hefted him into a nearby stall. He sat him on the 

toilet and leaned him up against the wall as carefully as he could. At least here he would be safe. “I’ll come back for you.” He murmured the promise before closing the door gently. 

“But first...” His tone darkened, turning towards the sound of broken mirror crunching across tile. The human still had fight in him. 

He barely could get onto his hands and knees. “What the fuck?!” He looked up, gritting his teeth in anger. Blood poked through his clothing and dripped from his nose and hairline where the sparkling shards were embedded in his scalp. 

Good. He ignored his questions. Demanding answers from him was the least of his worries. Should have been anyhow. Nines took the remaining bounds between him with angry purpose. Before the human could recover or make a move to rush him, Nines stood firm, forcing a right hook downward into his face. As his head was turned away from the blow, he took him by a fistful of hair yet again. The shout of pain was all the android needed to shove his hand into his mouth and  pull back. He yanked him back onto his ass, drool sputtering from the corners of his mouth as he shouted and clawed at his hand. 

Nines kicked his arm, nose scrunching at the force he needed to use to rid of his oh so futile struggles. “Behave.” He ordered over the screams of pain, his voice coming from somewhere deep within his throat and chest. His hand fell away limply, arm broken irregularly. 

With that, he turned, dragging him out of the bathroom by his upper jaw, leaving Gavin behind in the safety of the stall. 

The hectic kicks and screams of pain were futile, comical, and pathetic. Now traveling through the bar, glances that were earned. First at Nines and then down at the human who’s pants slid to his ankles as he dragged him, revealing that his underwear was tented. Purposely slowly, he dragged him, revealing the crimes we was going to commit to those around him. 

He looked ahead of himself with determination, face sculpted in that of emotionless neutrality. No one dared to intervene his version of justice. And if anyone did, they too would end up in the unstoppable storm that was he himself. 

What he wanted to do to this human need not of prying eyes. So, when he finally made it to the back door, he kicked it open, the cool night air prickling his skin, he looked down to the human in disinterest before it was twisted into a grimace of strain as he hefted and hacked him out into the alleyway. Pained screeches left him as he tumbled, his arm flopping uselessly. He came to a stop against the opposite building. Nines closed the door oh so casually as he listened to the entertaining tune of rightful human suffering. He turned towards the man and began his prowl. Hunched over, breathing raggedly, he cradled his jaw. The android stopped just before him, silent, dangerous, anger rolling off of him. His hands flicked anxiously by his sides. In the darkness, his LED bled a different sort of red. 

“Get up.” He ordered. His unwavering stance was shadowed by a flickering street lamp just nearby. Shadows danced over his darkening expression. 

With no choice in the matter, the human struggled to do so, “L-look man, I didn’t-I didn’t know that-!” 

Nines ticked his head to the side. “You would get caught?” He finished coolly, though his voice wavered with uncontrollable rage. Watching him attempt to pull his pants up with one good hand satisfied the sick side of him. Nines took a menacing step forward, hand 

pushing the side of his face into the harsh brick. How he wished to drag it downward and grate his soft flesh against the porous surface. He entertained the idea but it wasn’t good enough. Nothing would ever be enough. 

A sudden yell in protest and sobs that sprung from his lips caught him out of his thoughts. He ticked his head in interest. 

“I don’t want you to beg.” He tossed his head aside, releasing the pressure from his face. Nines took a step back. 

The human stumbled and leaned against the wall, cradling his cheek. He looked up. “Fuckin’ bastard!” 

He flung a careless fist and Nines easily caught it in his hand. He twisted his wrist harshly. Not enough force to snap it, not yet, but enough for it to strain. “Oh?” A sudden right hook was delivered. A tooth was knocked free from the blow. Blood trickled over his knuckles, the white plastimetal showing through honey skin. He pushed him back uninterested and bored. “Fight.” 

He snarled, cupping the blood that poured from his mouth. A messy cry of pain and frustration left the human. It was beautifully pathetic. He reached out to punch him again. Nines bared his teeth, taking his arm and twisting it downward, effectively dislocating his shoulder. He dropped him to the ground circling around him, like a shark with its prey. 

“I said fight.” Hissed breaths were taken through his teeth as blood dribbled to the ground in a long string. “I can’t!” 

“Oh? Just like your victims then...?” The best punishment was sick, unapologetic irony. The memory of his Gavin so small and scared pressed up against the disgusting tile of the wall, disoriented and confused. 

His partner. His love. Anyone would be helpless and the being who caused such a delusional state for their own twisted fucked up pleasures would be punished accordingly. 

The human looked up, his angered and broken face highlighted by shadowed light. “Fuckin’ android, what’s he to you?!” Blood mixed with spit splattered over his chin as he garbled out his words. 

He was everything. The reason why he was deviant, the reason he smiled, the reason he came home to a warm bed beside him, the reason for his job, the reason for warmth and embraces, the reason to live, the reason to take a bullet without a second guess, the reason he fought to protect innocents, the reason to love, the reason to fight the reason-! 

Everything.

  Everything.

Nines snapped. He planted a foot on his back and shoved him into the ground. His hands curled into fists by his side, shadows flicked over his darkening expression. 

“You wouldn’t care. You wouldn’t  understand . Couldn’t comprehend why because of how sick and melted your pathetic mind is. How disgusting and desperate you are for something that is only a fraction of what makes you human.” His eyebrows pinched together, scrutinizing the bug pinned to the wax that was below him. “No, you’re not human are you?” 

And neither was he for this moment at least. 

The human began to curse and fumble words that only an unintelligent hell-warped mind could produce. Enough. Nines dropped his foot, only to deliver the finishing blow. His foot cracking across the side of his head sent the man into unconsciousness. He took a step back and observed his work. Took sick pride in it. With a sneer of contempt, he looked away. 

Whoever would find him wouldn’t know what happened. And he doubt the man could go to the police and confess. No one would believe such an aloof, controlled and accurate police android such as himself could perform such a brutal punishment. 

Of course not. And that is what made him dangerous. Curiously, he looked down to his hands and body and then was on his way into the bar. The scene behind was forgotten. The worried glances sent his way were ignored. His knuckles were broken and bleeding blue, splotched with red against the white of his chassis. Only some blood splatter saturated his clothing and neck. 

They did not matter so as long as he fulfilled his promise undisturbed and went back for Gavin. The night out was promptly ended. He brought him home. 

 When Gavin woke up, his mind was bleary and filled with cotton. Had he passed out? Did he get drunk last night? He didn’t remember much and when he tried to remember, he only recalled Nines running off with an android and then things got blurry. 

Did he go home with her? Did he end up with someone? He finally opened his eyes and sat up and regretted doing so instantly. His head pounded and his stomach lurched violently. His eyebrows creased together in pain as he dug the heel of his hand into his eye. Curious enough he found it crusted over as if he had been crying. 

Finally noticing the shadow that loomed next to him, he looked over and found the still form of Nines sitting on the edge of the bed. 

“N-Nines?” He called out, his voice cracking. He cleared it, cringing as he swallowed sandpaper and tried calling him again. 

There was no response from the android sitting next to him. Gavin blinked a few more times and swallowed thickly. His mouth was dry as fuck and his body felt heavy. His stomach felt raw and so did his throat. It was dry and raspy. 

“Nines, I...don’t...?” Nine refused to look at him and Gavin couldn’t understand why. He tried following his gaze that led out the window but there was nothing. He leaned forward, the light of the room and the darkness outside allowing him to see his reflection of a face that portrayed no emotion. A red LED burned in the night. 

“What happened?” He rasped. His stomach felt sick, if not a little heavy. He had never seen his android like this before. 

That was a lie. Once and only once had he seen his android shut down like this. “Aw fuck..” He groaned, getting out of bed to sit at the edge next to his android. 

He held his stomach and exhaled loudly and even then, Nines still didn’t move. “C’mon Tin Can, talk....” Gavin had enough of the silent treatment. He leaned forward, “I don’t know how to fix ya if you don’t fucking...” His voice cut out upon noticing the state of his android a bit closer. “...talk.” He finished lamely. His vision may have been blurry but the unmistakable color of red didn’t just come from his LED, it was across his clothing and skin as well. 

Nines continues to not look at Gavin, a distant look in his eyes & Gavin glanced down to see Nines’ knuckles were white, the chassis beneath having blue seeping through the cracks. 

Slowly, not knowing if Nines was an animal that could strike at any moment, he moved his hands forward and gently gripped onto the android’s own, damaged hands, swiping a thumb over the broken surface of his knuckles. 

And still even then, the android didn’t react. What the actual fuck happened and why couldn’t he remember? Why was his android locked up like this. What happened?! 

Gavin had to try another approach. He moved towards him shakily, cupping his jaw. “H-hey?” Nothing. 

Why didn’t he clean himself off? Did Gavin beat someone up, did he- “ What happened ?” This time he begged. But as soon as Nines finally looked at him... 

Oh. Oh God... He remembered now and the memory caused him to close his eyes and bite his tongue from truly losing his stomach. The android moved quite suddenly, startling him. Before he could react, he realized slowly that Nines was holding him close in a desperate and long embrace. It caught him off guard but fuck, did he need it. He was almost...almost- 

“N-Nines? Christ. Oh, Christ I’m so sorry...” The human attempted to push him away to look him in the eye. To assess a starting point to where they could continue. To soothe, to cry, to yell. Anything. He wanted to know the story after he was out. After the drugs had taken him over. What... What became of the guy that tried to take him? 

He felt his android begin to shiver against the desperate hold, reluctant and refusing to let go of him. The hold made his ribs and bones crack but Gavin gave up trying to pull away. “I-I’m here-” 

There was a long silence, LED blinking red as Nines finally spoke. A barely there rasp in his ear, “I could have lost you.. I-I couldn’t lose you. I  can’t .” 

Gavin felt disconnected with the world in that moment, but he tried his damndest. He didn’t have to be face to face with the android to sooth the visible distress he was in. “Nines, baby, I-I’m okay- I’m okay. You got me. You got me...” Gavin mumbled, interrupting Nines’ own ramblings. He couldn’t quite figure out if he was convincing Nines or himself but neither were believing his bullshit words anyhow. 

Even though he was fucking terrified & Nines was too, holding each other was all that was left to do. Not to mention Nines’ ability to scan & see Gavin was fucking petrified of what could have happened if Nines didn’t get there quick enough. 

Finally, after a long moment, Nines pulled back and held Gavin’s face gently. Silver eyes flicked over his human before they locked with him. If this were any other moment, Gavin would confess just how much he loved him. 

“I don’t want you to know.” He murmured. “I don’t want you to know. But know that nothing happened to you and I found you in time.” 

“And what about you?” He brought his hand to his forearms, gripping them tightly. “What the hell happened? 

Nines shook his head, muttering barely above a whisper. “Irrelevant.” 

Whatever had happened clearly wasn't fucking irrelevant but Gavin was too hazy & tired to bother putting up a fight for answers. That could wait for later on, after the world stopped spinning and his stomach stopped curling in on itself.

There was a darkness in the android that held him so dearly as if his life depended on it, and, maybe it did. But, he supposed that it didn't matter. If Nines had said nothing had happened to him he believed him. He was grateful for his protection. No matter what Nines had done.

[judememories]

lady gaga voice slowly fadin in: oOoohohOhoh im in love w judas.... ju-Das juda-ah-ah... i rly missed jude tbh so i decided to bring him in as a second. i hv faith i cn manage jugglin i... ...... .. . have faith. in case u dnt kno it is me (nai) n this is like. the one (1) male chara iv ever managed to play longer than jst a few weeks. truly jst Zee Fruit Of My Womb! bt anyway. jst gna leap right in to the intro. we die like men

he pinterest: 

me in the voice of a card magician performing on the street: round up round up pick a pinterest any pinterest!

ta-da it’s aesthetics:

lead marbles instead of eyes, a stolen hearse careening down the wrong lane, wearing a faded smiley face sticker on your forehead while receiving a serious lecture, bags under the eyes that are so big they could pack enough clothes for a three week vacation, a cigarette wobbling from your bottom lip as you squint against the sunlight, passing out on a stranger's rooftop, placing sunglasses over the eyes of a biology lab skeleton, gangling around the place like shaggy minus his scooby snacks, saying "fuck off" to inanimate objects

about tha Bitch:

he hd to do community service bc he kind of... hd a bit of a breakdown before the funeral of his elderly neighbour who bsically raised him bc her kids rly didnt care abt her they jst wanted her inheritance?? so he... stole the hearse w her casket still in it n ws jst like... drivin around the place sort of... tryin nt to cry.....KJJFHSFKJGHKFG i mean. it isnt funny its actually sad bt :/ in a very bizarre n jude way. he gt caught n taken in fr questioning bt her son kind of realised hw... broken up abt her death jude ws n had a heart n didnt press charges. regardless he stil hd to do community service bc it ws like taken seriously even tho it ws his first proper offence. doin it rly exhausted n depressed him so when he wsnt doin tht he ws just hibernatin in his room....... n thts where hes been 2 explain his absence to any of u whose charas had... connections w him Way Back When

in a new development in terms of sexuality i jst am nt quite sure....... hes always thot he ws straight... fooled around w a 90s hugh grant lookalike once n ws jst a bit like :/ my rocks rnt blasted off? bt who knows wht the future holds... who KNOWS wht the future holds ladies n gentlemen

frm this point on i wnt lie iv pasted in his old intro bc. a bich is lazy! a bich is predictable! and a bich! is! unapologetic!

born in sheffield in england, bt they went back and forth between there n san fran a lot jude was an unhappy accident. his parents never rly used protection bc they were super Liberal n Au Naturel n believed in the pull out method bc… they were maniacs. bt then the ONE time they used a condom in an effort to b safety conscious it broke n hence…. jude was bornthey just kind of ran w it bc they had such a passionate relationship tht they were like What The Hell…. may as well! itll be fine we’ll learn to be good parents n love him like normal ppl do

spoiler alert: tht didn’t work outthey were ok to him like they weren’t abusive or anything like that bt they just found him to be a massive burden n hindrance to their plansthey literally….. had sex all day every day n acted like a pair of teenagers. it ws a super weird environment for a kid to grow up in bc he literally had no role models or… guidance or…. anything rly. occasionally they’d joke around w him or pretend they even knew what grade he was going into but for the most part they just Didn’t Care one bit

they were both suuuuper into the arts. they’re both rly good sculptors bt they paint too n they actually own a rly successful gallery in san fran

as a result he grew up around a lot of creative n sometimes pretentious ppl. the friends of his parents were more present in his life than his ACTUAL parents bc they were always jetting off to diff countries to scout out new pieces fr their galleries n just have a gd time in beautiful places without…. the annoyance tht ws their son forcing them to b responsible n look after someone else. tbh some of his parents friends were rly damaging too bt….i won’t go into that just yet. it doesn’t rly…need properly explaining bc jude never talks abt it anyway n it….is rather triggering so i’ll jst….leav it for now tbh fgkhdfgh. basically they just were Not Nice n jude had a lot of bad memories he keeps repressed

bc of how he ws raised he has a p cultured taste. he luvs classic lit, especially kerouac, n p much anything artsy. he can play piano 2 n sometimes gets rly high n thinks he’s mozart level gd at composing. i mean he’s gd bt… Calm Down Judepersonality wise he acts out sometimes bc he’s so frustrated. he tried rly hard to be someone his parents wld care abt by doing wild or stupid things so he’d hav funny stories to tell them n tbh sometimes it works n he gets them to laugh w him but it isn’t a parent/son bond n it never rly wil b. 

he’s rly sarcastic, sleeps around a lot, has an overflowing secret sketchbook n if he cares abt someone he’ll probably draw them n get rly defensive if they find out abt it fkjgdhfkj bcos he’s an Independent Boy without a sentimental bone in his body. or so he says. at heart he is jst a very Sad Boy w lots of repressed issues like depression genuinely just does NAT giv him a single break bt he plasters over this w wise cracks n never discusses his emotions ever. he’s actually p decent or at least tries to b. he’s kind of like tht bit in superbad where michael cera gets rly drunk n makes a toast to women. tries to b? a feminist bt sometimes fucks up n offends ppl n is like dam..... my bad fr :/

he has p bad insomnia so he like never sleeps fgjkhfgjkf he always has rly sleepy eyes n rubs them tiredly mid conversation. he smokes a lot of weed to try n compensate fr this n make him tired bt he still struggles a lot

ANYWAY that aside he’s at lockwood doing fine arts. he luvs painting n photography n philosophy n all tht. a pretentious fiend sometimes? maybe_so.gif

ummMMMMmm honestly idk i’m blankin on what else to say. ull find him smoking weed reading an american classic or gnawing at his thumbnail n getting charcoal smudges along that Dramatic model jawline. he’s p broody n scruffy n he’s mostly here fr a good time. o and he’s That Guy that would die fr morrissey (his vibe not personality bc i hc jude was depressed n shut himself inside all day when he actually found out what a dick he is dfjkfhg) and all that stone roses the smiths etc stuff music wise. HMU FR PLOTS!!!!!! i’m down fr anything

[everythingandeveryplace]

*Captain Boomerang X OC*

Thanks to @twilightsagadaily & @heartofdevastation for the gifs!

I just love Jai Courtney.

***************************************

“What exactly are we waiting on? First breath of fresh air in two years and the sun is burning my damn head.” Deadshot complained, tucking behind Croc and using his thick body as some form of defense, cautious to avoid touching the scaly skin squirming over the creatures body.

“I love it.” Harley sighed, ponytails flicking outward as she spun around hugging her arms to her body and wiggling her hips.

“What’s the matter with heat?” Diablo flicked his fingers, flames spouting from the tattooed digits.

Officer Flag sighed, running his hands over his face, already exhausted and the mission hadn’t even begun.

“Settle down.. were just having trouble securing one of the recruits..Rosie Tate is just..”

“Rosie?!” Harley squealed, effectively cutting off the agitated solider, clapping her hands and biting down hard on her overexcited grin. “No way! She was my bunkie a few years back in central prison Right before I got here! Oh my goodness how fun!” Her New York accent was thick with excitement.

“Reckon we’re gonna have to deal with another drongo going off.” Boomerang chuckled, Australian accent slurring his words together.

Harley whipped around, one hand propped on her bat and the other on her hip as she popped her bubblegum and raised an eyebrow at the scruffy man.

“No one can understand ya, you sound like you’re having a stroke.” She squinted and pouted matter of factly.

“She tried to slit a guards throat with a piece of her bed frame.” Flag looked down at the clipboard in his hand.

“Shit.” Deadshot chuckled. “ girl had to have a reason.” His eyes sparkling with unrestrained humor.

“He tried to grab my ass..I’m a lady.”

The brand new voice had everyone whipping around. standing there, cuffs tight around her wrists behind her back and long smooth blonde hair falling into her melted gold eyes... they were striking.. so clear and crystalline resembling the color of liquid honey. She was thin and petite, plain black workout shorts and a tight black racer back tank top exposing the curve of her breasts and waist. Boomerang had to physically dig his fingers into his palm to resist the urge to press his hands to her skin and trace the freckles on her bare arms.

“Sweet as god damn sugar. What a ripper.” Boomerang whispered, he couldn’t seem to tear his gaze off of the honey blonde even when Harley ran at her, wrapping her arms around her friend.

“Rosie Posie!” Harley giggled wildly, gripping her cheeks and nuzzling her nose. A gentle smile lit up the new members face and almost as if it were a switch her light eyes darkened to a warm chocolate brown, tension easing from her shoulders slightly.

“Harley.” She mumbled warmly.

“You’ve been in the same building as me this whole time! Where ya been sugar!” She beamed.

“Caged up same as you.” The guard behind her uncuffed her wrists and pushed her forward roughly. Rosie stretched her wrists and looked back with a snarl.

“Alright then, let’s get going we’ve got a long plane ride ahead of us. Tate your knives are...” suddenly a sharp blade zipped directly past his ear and landed in the bed of a metal truck, directly in the middle of the utility truck. Flag popped back up eyes wide as he stared at the woman in front of him smiling innocently.

“Oops. It slipped.” She shrugged her shoulders, strapping the knives to her thigh and rolling her neck back.

Boomerang made his way beside her as they moved to board the private plane.

“Ya oughta try boomerangs luv. Least they always come back.” He grinned, digging into his coat pocket to reveal the curved metal boomerang tied with thick rope. Rosie’s eyes lingered on the weapon for a moment before they pulled up to his shiny blue eyes, she smiled gently.

“They don’t make boomerangs here in America.” She stepped into the plane dropping to the seat by the door and shifting so he could sit beside her.

“Ya ain’t never met a bloke who can make them.. the names Captain Boomerang..ya can call me digger.” He stuck out a dirt stained hand and was pleasantly surprised to find her hands that had thrown knives like a professional were soft and feminine against his own calloused and scarred skin. “Ya’n awfully pretty Sheila to be locked up with us scabs, what caught ya.?”

Her nose scrunched adorably at his Australian slang and she turned to look at the gold chain that hung from his neck.

“I just like pretty things.” Her fingers trailed over the fur of his coat, the muscles in his arms tensing at the contact. “Had a boyfriend who liked to take things from people.. I followed along.. some people don’t deserve nice things.” She whispered, something much more dangerous in her eyes as they faded back to melted gold.

“Yeah.. I get ya there luv. Steal from the rich, give to the poor.” He nodded, he wasn’t smiling anymore and neither was she there was something in the air a connection strong enough to buzz beneath their skin and burn from the inside. “Crikey.. your eyes..”

She quickly glanced away, eyes falling to the window.

Digger reached for her then, two fingers to her chin dragging her eyes back to his

“Ya ain’t got to hide from me luv. Beautiful is beautiful... gonna keep ya safe.. keep those eyes safe.” He smiled a crooked kind of smile, gold tooth glinting.

“I don’t need you to keep me safe.” She whispered back, eyelashes fluttering as the plane began its landing.

“Course ya don’t, that’s the best part. Gonna be out here a while.. be nice to have someone to keep me warm.” He teased, goofy grin on his handsome face.

“If you don’t die.” She teased back, her voice taking in a sing song quality her leg was bouncing with anticipation of a fight, eyes lighter than he’d seen.

“Can’t die yet luv. Got too much to look forward too.”

With one final smile he made his way out of the plane, Harley appeared at her side.. a knowing smirk under her messed up lipstick.

“Oh shutup.” Rosie blushed.