#requests are open but slow!

[cheeriecherrymain]

Please can we have the conclusion to the lipstick ask? I wanna hear what Viktor has to say and how he's gonna apologize for being dumb

Final (fourth) Part!

[Part 1] [Part 2] [Part 3]

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Viktor x fem!Reader (18+)

Content tags: enthusiastic blowjobs | face sitting | Viktor being kind of a tease | vaginal fingering

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-You stand in your doorway, frozen. Of all the people you’d expected to see at your door - a stranger, a delivery driver, one of your neighbors - Viktor is not one of them. After everything that had transpired between the two of you, you were certain that he wouldn’t have wanted to seek you out.

-After staring at him for a moment though, completely perplexed, your gaze darts downwards, to where he’d fidgeting with his hands. Or rather…to where he’s fidgeting with…a potted plant?

-It’s just a small pot, with an even smaller leafy thing in it - scraggly and viney and drooping all over the edges. The poor thing almost looks pathetic, with how wispy it is, but what’s most notable about it are its flowers.

-Bitty bundles of miniscule blooms, so pale that they almost glow in the gloom of the evening.

- “You don’t like it when people behead flowers just to give them as gifts,” Viktor says, finally breaking the silence. “You think it’s mean. But I…wanted to get you something, and you mentioned a while ago that you’d never seen the little plants that sometimes pop up between cracks in the undercity.”

-You frown slightly, trying to think back to when you’d even had that conversation. It would have been years ago, by now. Had he really somehow retained that information?

- “You said that they were hard to find,” you nod along, only somewhat remembering. “And prettier in person. Viktor, what are you doing here?”

-He glances a couple times between you and the flowers, searching desperately for words. He opens his mouth a couple of times, taking a breath to start speaking, but…nothing comes out, save for a soft croak.

-Pink rises to his cheeks, darkening to a substantial flush the longer the two of you stand there. You have half the mind to be annoyed with his sudden appearance, especially after the kind of emotional hell he’d put you through: was this him trying to apologize? Trying to make things right after carving your heart out and grinding it into-

- “I had a whole speech planned,” he finally mutters, his somewhat-hopeful expression falling. “Some grand gesture, explaining everything from my perspective. Explaining how inebriated I was over the weekend, explaining that my mind was not where it should have been.”

-Oh.

-So he’s apologizing for sleeping with you.

-...why does that hurt so much?

- “This morning, though,” he continues, “You…you said that you…told me how you felt. That you, despite all odds, have secretly been harboring romantic feelings for me for years, and I’ve been stupid and oblivious.”

-He rubs little circles into the crisp clay of the pot in his grip, his lips pressed into a thin line.

- “I don’t remember,” he admits, then.

-You’re fully taken aback.

- “I don’t remember you telling me how you felt. I don’t remember much of our conversation at all. I just…remember laughing with you. Having a good time. Feeling lighter than I have in as long as my memory goes. And I…I don’t remember a lot of what happened…later.”

-Judging by the hue of his cheeks, you know exactly what he’s referencing, and you pop out of your little trance long enough to realize that you’re still standing in the doorway of your home, out where anyone could hear what you were saying.

-Everything in you is screaming at you not to trust him, to not fall for some kind of ploy again, but you decide to ignore it: because maybe you’d been wrong from the start. Maybe you’d been given the incorrect information, and you’d made assumptions, and maybe it’s a misunderstanding.

-Unlikely, but…you’ll hate yourself for it later if you don’t at least hear him out.

-So you quietly step aside, allowing Viktor to stride into your apartment enough for you to close the door behind him. Casting you both into a new type of silence as you both idle at the end of the hallway for a couple seconds.

-Before you nod him further in, and lead him to your quaint living room. Your couches are mismatched, and dated, but they’re comfortable and you don’t really care about the fact that they clash. The two of you find your seats across from each other, and Viktor sets the little plant down on your wobbly coffee table.

-He wastes no time in continuing his explanation.

- “If I had remembered what words had been exchanged between us, I wouldn’t have called that night a mistake,” he tells you, with the utmost seriousness. “I woke up beside you with broken, mismatched fragments of everything, and I fear I pieced them together incorrectly.”

- “I assumed that you would be angry with me,” he admits. “We got drunk, we had sex - I figured-”

- “That I would have thought it was a mistake,” you finish, your shoulders drooping with the realization. “You forgot that I told you I loved you, so your mind went to the worst place. God, Viktor.”

-You push yourself off the couch and nearly trip over your own feet as you move your seat to his side. “I wish you’d just told me,” you chastise him, pressing yourself right up against his side. “We’re adults, which means we can have a grown up conversation.”

-He at least has the sense to look ashamed of his actions, even as you run your fingers through his hair and draw him into a hug.

- “I forgive you,” you sigh, squeezing him a little harder when he hesitates wrapping his arms around you, and only once he does so do you continue speaking, “But you need to stop trying to predict my reactions, okay? Even if you’re anxious about what I might say, I need you to trust that I’ll face any issues with compassion. I need you to trust me.”

-His sigh tickles the soft hairs on your neck, but you’re still able to feel the minute shift in his body as he nods.

- “Okay,” he agrees quietly. “I- okay.”

-The two of you stay like that for a little while, wrapped up in each other’s arms, enjoying the closeness and allowing all the negative feelings from the day to slowly dissipate. And they do, eventually - as you allow his warmth to seep into your bones, your anxiety fades, your anger fades, your sadness fades - mostly.

-You’re still saddened slightly, by the fact that his first instinct was to prepare for your anger upon finding out you slept with him. But you suppose you can’t fault him too much: he’s spent most of his life being an unwanted second thought, despite the fact that you have never seen him that way.

-But…that’s a talk for another time.

-For now, you pull back from him slightly, just enough to rest your forehead against his to stare into his pretty honey eyes. You want to warn him about what you’re going to do - after everything that’s happened, you feel like you should. But he beats you to the chase.

-Closing the small gap between you, his lips find yours. Barely a fluttering touch, soft and simple, but enough to coax you forward into something deeper. Something hotter, sending off millions of little flutters within your chest as your breath mixes and you press yourself harder against him. Or perhaps he draws you in closer. 

-You’re not sure.

-You suppose it doesn’t matter.

-You’re fumbling with the buttons of his shirt after a couple of minutes, trying your best to pull away from him enough to see what you’re doing: though he’s having none of it. His lips locate some other patch of exposed skin, latching on with mischievous intent as he begins trying to leave a bruise.

- “I’m trying to get you naked,” you grumble, without any sort of malice. You can feel him grin against your throat for a moment, before he sinks his teeth in hard enough that you have to pause what you’re doing, a soft whine falling past your parted lips.

- “I’m not stopping you,” he replies, breath tickling your skin. You fight the urge to roll your eyes at him, though you feel nothing but affection. 

-He doesn’t make removing his clothes easy for you, not by any means. He teases you relentlessly throughout the process, making little quips and remarks, just for the sake of driving you up the wall.

- “I don’t remember you being this chatty,” you huff, finally removing his shirt in the most offended manner possible. You’re covered in little bite marks by then, and riled up beyond the point of impatience: you never knew that Viktor of all people was prone to running at the mouth.

- “Perhaps you should find a way to shut me up, then?” he suggests, grinning up at you where you sit on his lap.

-It pushes you over the edge.

-You stand up without a word, shoving yourself off him in a frustrated flurry. He looks startled for a couple of moments, and you can practically see the gears turning in his head: wondering if he’d done something wrong, or if he’d overstepped, or if you’d changed your mind.

-You soften by a fraction when you realize he’s probably just nervous. He’d recently been of the mind that you were angry with him, after all, and you’re willing to bet that he’s got some residual anxiety.

- “Go and get comfy on my bed,” you tell him, nodding towards the open door that leads to your room. “If you want me to shut you up, then I’ll do so by putting your mouth to use. You seemed pretty keen on it last time, too.”

-It takes a second for him to understand what you’re implying, but the moment the pieces click into place, he’s on his feet. You don’t think you’ve ever seen him move so quickly in all the time you’ve known him, and you worry for a brief second that he’s going to cause extra trouble for his knee later.

-But he’s eager to draw you out of your thoughts, gaining your attention once he disappears into the depths of your bedroom. “I thought you were going to do something,” he calls, and you can hear the brief shuffle of clothing, followed by the creak of your mattress.

- “Janna, you’re impatient,” you grumble, though you’re unable to hide the crooked grin that tugs at the corners of your mouth.

-You find him comfortably settled in the center of your bed a couple moments later, and he’s been courteous enough to divest himself of his trousers. Left them in the middle of the floor, mind you, but that’s a problem for later, you suppose. 

-He smiles sweetly at you from where he reclines against all the pillows you keep the company of, and lazily gestures towards his face. “You are taking an awfully long time,” he quips.

-You narrow your eyes at him, only breaking contact when you pull your shirt over your head. You’ve half a mind to feel shy about baring yourself to him the way you are, until you remember that you’ve been here before. He might not entirely recall all of the weekend’s events, but you’re quite certain he wouldn’t forget what you look like naked.

-Despite all this, he stares. Watches with rapt attention as you kick the rest of your clothes off and carefully fold them over the back of your door. Lets his lovely honey gaze trail across every curve of your body, almost lecherous and without an ounce of shame.

- “You’re still not sitting on my face,” he tells you, though it’s less of a demand and more of a whine. 

-In any case, you decide to have mercy on him. You slowly clamber onto your bed, and make your way up his body, stopping every couple inches to lay kisses to the pale warmth of his exposed flesh. Stopping for a few moments to tease him.

- “All we’ve been doing is kissing,” you murmur, staring down at where his cock lays against his tummy, already hard and flushed the prettiest shade of red at the tip. “You really want it, don’t you?”

-A sharp sigh passes his lips when you stoop down just slightly, to lick a flat stripe up the side. It’s barely enough to be considered pleasurable, and yet such a simple touch sends little tremors through his body. You watch entranced as a pearlescent bead wells from the tip of his cock, and begins drooling down towards his stomach.

-Well that won’t do, you think, and wrap your hand around him.

-His soft little sighs turn into broken cries, when you bring his length to your mouth. Closing your lips around him, you slowly start bobbing your head - it’s messy and filthy, and you can feel your spit dripping down over your fingers, slicking him up and making it easier to slide your fist around him.

-He’s less chatty now, as you���d put it, but he’s no quieter. Debauched little moans fall past his lips, without a care in the world, as you continue your onslaught. Tightening your hand by a fraction, stroking a little faster, sucking a little harder. You can feel his thighs quake beneath you, strung tight with pleasure.

- “Wait-” he gasps, and you freeze.

-You pull your mouth off him, worried for a moment that you’d done something wrong…until you see the way he looks at you.

-Breathless and hazy, half-lidded honey eyes nearly eclipsed by the black of his pupils. Looking at you like you’ve given him the moon, cheeks flushed and lips parted…

-Oh.

- “Are you really about to come?” you wonder, giving him a few teasing strokes. He whines again in response, and bats aimlessly at your hand until you finally release him.

- “Alright,” you agree, continuing your path up his body, “I guess I’ll be nice this time.” 

-You stop briefly at his face, smiling softly at him before bringing your lips together. It’s a tender kiss, almost innocent with the way you melt into each other, though it doesn’t take long for the mood to settle back in. You pull away from him, with one last bite to his bottom lip, and hoist yourself upwards.

-It’s a little bit awkward, you’ll admit, hovering above Viktor’s face like you are, rather than being on your back. Part of you worries that you might squish him, or somehow suffocate him, even though you know he’d be happy to go in such a way.

-He wraps his arms underneath your thighs, scooting you a little further up. 

-Staring at you.

-Nudging you down towards him.

-You humour him a little bit, lowering yourself down a couple centimeters, so that you’re close enough for him to reach you. But apparently it’s not enough. His grip tightens on you, and he urges you to come closer still, despite the fact that if you do, he’ll have nowhere to move his head.

- “You’re supposed to sit on my face,” he quips, with a quirk of a brow. “You know, like a chair? Sit?”

- “I don’t want to kill you or something!” you whine, embarrassment creeping up the back of your neck. “What if I like - I dunno, break your spine? Or your jaw? Or-”

- He seems to lose some of his patience then, pulling you down with strength you didn’t realize he possessed. You gasp at the sudden shift in position, but you’re barely able to collect your thoughts before his mouth starts moving against you - and oh god you almost forgot how divine his tongue is.

-He eats you out like a man starved, working his tongue against you in differing patterns, so that you never know what to expect. Closing his lips around your clit to suck gently on it. It sends a warm wash of pleasure over you, until he flicks the tip of his tongue against it within his mouth.

-If you’d been hovering over him at that point, your legs would have given out. A cry nearly punching itself out of your lungs. The white hot, unrelenting sensation between your legs.

-You have to grip the headboard so you don’t tip over.

-Slack jawed and holding on for dear life, you cry and moan and tremble as Viktor brings you closer to the edge. Lapping up every drop of fluid as it drools out of you, as if you’re the finest delicacy he’s ever had the pleasure of tasting.

-And oh, when he slides two slender fingers into you.

-You’re gone. Too lost in your desire to come to care much about appearances. You all but grind against his face, feeling his digits working inside you. Spreading you open to prepare you for his thick cock, curling them perfectly against that sweet little spot within you.

-You don’t even have time to warn him about your oncoming orgasm. It crests over you with sudden ferocity, tensing every muscle in your body as it fully encompasses you. All you can feel is Viktor, easing you through it, groaning as he drinks you in and witnesses you at the height of your pleasure.

-Basking in the fact that he’s the one who’s made you feel good.

-It takes a good thirty seconds for you to come back to yourself, breathless and trembling, leaning heavily against the headboard while you try to gather your thoughts.

-Viktor’s hands, slowly stroking up and down your thighs, drawing little patterns into the supple squish of your hips. Your eyes meet for a brief moment, and he grins up at you with the most shit-eating expression you’ve ever seen him wear. Entirely too pleased with himself.

-You can’t help but share the sentiment, mirroring his smile.

-You crawl off him a couple moments later, now intent on bringing the same rapture to him. Only…his confident smirk turns somewhat sheepish, and the moment he turns around, you see why.

- “Viktor,” you’re barely able to withhold your delighted glee. “Did you come from eating me out?”

-You watch as an embarrassed flush travels up his neck, across his cheeks and out to the tips of his ears. He stumbles over his words for a few seconds, trying desperately to explain himself and promise that he’ll be ready to go again in a little while.

-But you don’t care.

-You flop down beside him, and pull him into a deep, tender kiss. Pressing your body flush against his, drawing him impossibly closer by crooking your leg over his hip.

- “You’re perfect,” you sigh, before his lips find yours again.

[k1tty5]

cleo!

[gotchibam]

Vaporeon, Sylveon, and Jolteon ko-fi doodle for Kaitlyn!

I'm accepting pokemon ko-fi doodle requests here! ✨

[sillaysii]

draw ferrykitty and catbriel together plz!!

OFC !! I love them a lot im a huge ferrygabe appreciator so !! 🫶🫶

And also some more doodles i didn’t post before !!

Gabe with vkitty and an earthmover kitty !!

[birdperselias]

MIAMI RICK WEEK DAY 1 !!!

[ship-it-sideways]

Hi hi I love your art and everything aaaaa Grumbo is so cute!! I'm mainly a scarian shipper but gosh I saw your Grumbo and it's just *chef's kiss* please draw more!!!! (mayhaps you can draw some scarian in the future 👉👈 /nf)

Thank you so much !!!!!! <3 I loveeee drawing desert duo generally but I wanted to draw something shippy-er so I spent a while doing this >:3c

[shegatsby]

Love Thy Enemy

Summary; Y/N Atreides had always been a stranger to the entire galaxy, her bed wasn’t her bed, her home wasn’t her home due to the fact that she was sent to accompany and be sisters with Irulan. She had limited access to her actual family and over the years they grew distant. She thought she would be like Reverend Mother, alone, yet powerful, and soon she would realize that there was no need of being alone when a wild creature had his eyes on her for a long time.

A/N; Hi my little doves, I've missed you, I'm in love with my work lol I really enjoy writing this series so don't forget to share your thoughts with me. Don't worry, there will be SMUT in the future chapters. Sorry for any typos English isn't my first language.

TAG LIST IS OPEN! (Text me if i forgot to tag you little doves 🕊️ ♥️)

Warnings; Violence. Angst. Enemies to lovers. Female Bene Gesserit Reader x Feyd-Rautha,reader is reffered to as she/her.

Words; 2.232K

Chapter Four- ‘’Misery Begins’’

Giedi Prime, House Harkonenn

The air felt heavy in her lungs, the planet was orbiting a black sun, thus, everything outside looked black and white, no wonder these people were raised like animals, planet’s harsh conditions shaped their characteristics. The second she stepped out of the ship she hated every single thing but kept a firm stance.

Now she was settling in the guest quarters, the wedding was to be in 7 days and thankfully Harkonnen traditions says that they, under any circumstance, cannot stay in the same room.

Y/N had few of her personal maids and the rest was Harkonnen servants, all dressed in black with bald heads and pale, thin figures. Y/N noticed the looks she got from them, an outsider…

Inside the fortress one could see colors yet Harkonenns choose to keep it simple, her chambers consisted of a bedroom,  a small living room, and bathroom. Without a word she moved to the velvet armchair which was facing outside, she didn’t want to engage in any conversation with anyone, ‘’Prepare my bath.’’ She ordered without looking at any of them and then moved to the desk in her bedroom to write a letter to her family saying that she landed on the planet safely and everything was fine of course she knew that every letter she would sent was going to be read by Feyd-Rautha’s most trusted politicians, maybe even by himself so she kept the letter short. ‘’Send this to my family.’’ She gave the metal, thin device which was the letter to a servant, ‘’Yes my Lady.’’

After her bath which consisted of warm water and bath oils she brought from home, she smelled fresh and felt better. She was on her desk reading when her door was knocked, ‘’Yes?’’

A servant girl entered, she looked sickly pale and thin, her eyes on the floor, her hands interlaced on her thin stomach, ‘’Na-Baron wishes to dine with you my Lady.’’ It wasn’t a wish, it was an order. ‘’The trip have made me exhausted, please tell Na-Baron that I desire to rest.’’

She noticed the girl’s change of body language, her eyes rose to look at her ladyship pleadingly.  Y/N kindly smiled at the girl, oblivious to what was going to happen, she dismissed the servant girl.

The black sun of Giedi Prime shone bright just like the day before, Y/N decided to do some reading, learn more about the planet’s ecosystem. She had a light breakfast, the air still stingy in her lungs, she didn’t have much appetite.

Y/N Atreides was on her desk, taking notes and reading and her door knocked, ‘’Come in.’’ she was focused on the old books, ‘’My Lady.’’

‘’Yes?’’ she turned to face a man, he was a guard in his dark uniform. ‘’Na-Baron has a gift for you. He insists that you should open it after I am dismissed.’’ A strange request but what wasn’t strange about him anyways?!

Y/N couldn’t read the guard’s expression, his face was a blank slate, however he look more pale than usual skin color, was he ill? ‘’Thank you, place the box on the floor and you may be dismissed.’’ He did what he was told. She stood up and approached to the metal box, there was a strong smell of iron coming from it, it appeared there was no lock, no writings. Just in case, she placed the portable force field on her hand, activated it and tested it, working just fine.

Her hand went to open the metal box and her first reaction was to scream in terror, and her second reaction was to run to her bathroom and throw up her breakfast, shaking uncontrollably, on her knees like a wild animal.

Y/N Atreides didn’t know how many minutes or decades she had spent in that position, finally one of her old maids came for her rescue. ‘’My Lady…’’ she was an old woman with white hair and motherly touch, ‘’It’s okay now..’’ she was rubbing Y/N’s back gently and whispering kind words.  ‘’Is it-‘’ she sobbed, ‘’is it gone?’’

‘’I took care of it my Lady.’’ She helped Y/N stand up and leave the bathroom. The metal box which had the servant girl’s head was gone and yet she could feel her eyes watching her every move. She threw the shield on her hand and marched out of her chambers. There was a solider guarding her chambers, ‘’Where is Na-Baron?’’ she asked trying to control her tone. ‘’He has a meeting with Baron Vladimir and Glossu Rabban.’’

‘’Take me to him.’’ She said, could feel the anger on her chest, so hefty. ‘’But my Lady-‘’

‘’Take me to him.’’ She used the voice on him, the guard, without a word started to guide her to the meeting room. The corridors of the fortress were mostly black, some grey and white here and there, there were guards on watch duties, servants cleaning or carrying stuff. It was so different than the environment she grew up in, in Caladan or Emperor’s planet was vivid and thriving, here it was just… lifeless. She cursed her fate.

There were two guards on the doors of the meeting room, ‘’Open.’’ She used the voice again and the doors were opened slowly, Baron Vladimir was sitting on a metal chair which was placed on marble steps, towering over Glossu Rabban and Feyd-Rautha who were standing and looking up at him, listening to him as if their lives depend on it.. well.. they weren’t wrong. Baron was surprised to see her. ‘’Lady Y/N!’’ he announced which made the boys look at her direction but she refused to look at them, her focus was on Baron. ‘’What a lovely surprise, I hope you quarters to your liking.’’ Y/N bowed in courtesy, ‘’Thank you my Baron, you are the most generous.’’ She had to control her anger and she was doing a good job, keeping things formal. She had to be respectful to the family otherwise her position let alone her life would be at stake, she remembered Feyd’s words; ‘’Try to humiliate me again and see what happens, little dove.’’ The room was barren with only a long marble table and chairs, the curtains were closed and white glowglobes lighting the room, no carpets, no ornaments. ‘’What do we owe the pleasure of your visit?’’ he asked, she could see he was trying to understand her moves. ‘’I must speak with Na-Baron. It is urgent.’’ Finally she turned to face him, even though he was standing far away she could see his body reacting to her words, he was alert and an animalistic shine on his eyes. ‘’Feyd, please escort your wife-to-be to a more secluded area and discuss.’’ His uncle said and Feyd bowed to him quickly, ‘’Yes uncle.’’ And then he turned to her, marching like a soldier, he held her arm and escorted her out of the room, his grip was tight, he made her follow him. Since there were guards and servants everywhere she didn’t dare to utter a word.

Y/N had no idea where they were going, the fortress was a maze and every corridor looked similar. They reached a door, Feyd dismissed the guards and opened the heavy black door. Quite frankly he threw her inside, before she got a chance to look around she spit her venom. ‘’What is wrong with you?!’’ Feyd looked puzzled, ‘’Did you really beheaded that girl just because I refused to dine with you?!’’ she could feel her whole body shake in anger, being in his presence disturbed her equilibrium. ‘’Oh, that.’’ He remembered, his behavior made it worse for her. ‘’Yes, that!’’ He didn’t close the space between them, his hands behind his back. ‘’Did I upset you, little dove?’’ was he mocking her? ‘’Upset?!’’ Y/N couldn’t believe her ears, what happened to that sweet boy she met years ago?

He started to move towards her like a predator, he was much taller than her, towering above her she had to look up to meet his icy blue orbits. Years had turned him into a killing machine, what a shame. She hoped to see remorse in those beautiful eyes but found nothing. Back of his hand found her heated cheek, touching ever so gently, it made one wonder how could he behead an innocent girl and then touch his wife-to-be like a tender lover. ‘’This is what happens when you reject my orders.’’ His voice calm and collective. ‘’I hate you!’’ and she pushed his chest but had no impact so she moved away from his aura. That’s when she noticed that they were in his quarters of the fortress, she remembered the fact that he dismissed the guards, no one to help her if things were to took a turn. ‘’You hate me?’’ he asked, still calm. ‘’What else… do you also fear me?’’

‘’No.’’ she simply answered. His none existent eyebrows rose, his pupils dilated ever so slightly, she noticed how still he was, like a statue. His nostrils flared with a passion she could not placed.

‘’No? So you don’t fear me.’’ He repeated back, folding his arms, he wasn’t angry, only curious. ‘’Not at all?’’

‘’You aren’t allowed to hurt me.’’ Her voice higher than his.

‘’Not allowed?’’ he tilted his head, his voice low and husky, ‘’and how can you be so certain of such?’’ a slight smile pulled at his plump lips, ‘’What makes you so confident in that?’’ he knew his own intentions but he was curios of what went on within her pretty head. There was a certain aura about Y/N that intrigued Feyd, he was watching, listening and studying her.

‘’Let me go back to my home.’’ She whispered, even she didn’t believe herself but that was her intention, to go back and ride her horse, walk in the lush gardens, laugh with her other Bene Gesserit friends. ‘’You assume you have the final word where you go.’’ He chuckled, his voice lower than before. ‘’I decide where you go.’’ His gaze grew sharp like an animal, ‘’I decide what you do. And what I decide..’’ Feyd laughed again, ‘’You’re going to obey.’’

‘’I had a life before you took me, I had a family and friends and, and..’’ she could feel her eyes getting blurry, ‘’And?’’ he insisted, ‘’I had a partner, a lover, and you scared him away!’’ she was practically yelling at this point, female rage taking over her body. ‘’A lover? Don’t make me laugh little girl. If he was so in love with you-‘’ he opened his arms looking around, ‘’where is he? Why isn’t he here defending your honor and saving you from me?!’’ with the mention of Y/N’a former partner Pyramus, Feyd-Rautha wasn’t so calm anymore, he could feel rage rising in his body.  

‘’Because of you! You scared him and he ran! Otherwise he would be here-‘’

‘’Don’t be that stupid Y/N! He wasn’t so scared when I offered him a deal.’’

And with that Y/N was confused, ‘’What deal?’’

Feyd-Rautha was pacing in the room in anger, he couldn’t believe she was still ‘’in love’’ with that low life, waste of space. ‘’I offered him a supply of spice which will outlive him and his children and his children’s children. A generation wealth so to speak.’’

Y/N was shaking her head in rejection, her gaze focused on the floor, ‘’No, no,’’ she whispered, not believing what Feyd was suggesting. ‘’Yes Y/N! Your lover didn’t hesitate a second and took the deal.’’

‘’Then why did he try to escape with me?!’’ she yelled in pain, her heart was torn into pieces, ‘’I wanted you to see how pathetic he was and I staged it.’’ Feyd’s chest heaving with anger and he was so passionate to prove her he was right, he turned to go to the next room and brought back a metal device, he opened it, ‘’Here, he signed the deal.’’ She took it and saw the spice deal written on it, millions of gallons.. and Pyramus’ signature at the bottom…

Feyd grabbed the metal device and threw it on the couch near him, ‘’Not going to lie, you weren’t cheap.’’ And she slapped him.

Feyd-Rautha was slapped by a woman for the first time in his life, he froze for a second, shocked to see how bold she could be. He was even turned on a bit. With both of his hands he grabbed her delicate shoulders tightly, he was much stronger than her. ‘’LET GO OF ME-‘’

Feyd-Rautha didn’t care what she wanted, ‘’I might hurt you physically Y/N, but I would never do that to you. I would never sell what’s mine for something else. Do you hear me?!’’ his voice was rough and irritated her ears, her body was in shock and her shoulders hurting her. ‘’I would never leave what’s mine behind and walk away, I am a man, see me as a man not that little boy you met years ago!’’

Was that a love confession, no it couldn’t be.. someone like Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen couldn’t possibly feel something so pure and innocent, or was it just being possessive and showing her that her life was in his hands till death do them apart. The stress overcame her body, her vision was getting darker and the last thing she saw was Feyd’s pretty eyes.

Tag List;

@superchatnoir07

@mamawiggers1980

@landlockedmermaid77

@moonsoulk

@crystalskiesandcherrywine

@palomavz

@beebeechaos

@jeong-uwu

@tian-monique

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@taleah

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@monstresshorn

Thank you for reading. :)

[sirtadcooper]

What do you need?

I've got half a pouch for my last smoke. That will do for me.

[cannibalcreeps]

Wait we can request fallout stuff… can we see Jeremy and Edward Deegan interact? :) honk honk

Absolutely welcome to send in requests, my inbox is open <3

Once again Jeremy has struck fear into the commonwealths hearts! Whilst Deegan is confused why of all creatures, that is still around.

[idyllcy]

baby, you can find me under the lights

word count: 9.1k

warnings: slow burn, mentions of drugs

summary: Ah, it feels good to be loved.

Hard. This is. Hard.

Jaime stumbles over his words as Khaji Da warns him for his spike in heartbeat, his head spinning as you stare up at him, blinking owlishly. You look pretty. Seriously, you look gorgeous. He's stumbling over his words just to ask you where his building was. It wasn't even as if he was asking for your number! Seriously, do people like you even exist—

You tilt your head at him, blinking.

asking you to repeat yourself.

nevermind. you do.

"Ah, uh, dios mio—" He pauses. "do you know where the school of biology is? It's my first day here, and—"

You point at the building on the other side, and Jaime sighs. "Oh my god. I'm stupid, so sorry—"

You wave your hand dismissively, smile on your face.

smile holds no menace. seeming to say 'me too'

"Thank you, but really—"

You raise a brow at him.

"Not you. Well, thank you, yes, but not the latter part." He sighs. "I've had a long morning."

You wave bye to him as you rush off into the building.

"Is she mute?"

no signs of vocal cord damage

"So she just." Jaime glances down at his watch, cursing as he realizes he's about to be late to class. "I'll ignore it. Put a tab on her."

got it. unusually high levels of dopamine and adrenaline detected in bloodstream.

"Ignore it." Jaime mumbles. "I just think she's cute."

In retrospect, Jaime has no idea why he would need to keep a tab on you, but he finds it especially helpful when he's met face to face with who the scarab calls you, except it's not really you, it's some person with flamboyant makeup drawn over their face, and Khaji Da insists it's you. All Jaime can notice is how you're a metahuman, a voice as honeyed as a siren's. He shakes his head to try and break free of your voice.

"What's wrong? Cat got your tongue?" You tilt your head at him, setting him down as you soar back to the supervillain. His jaw stays open before he closes it, realizing the situation.

"Khaji."

a metahuman

"Well, I can't have her fight alone, can I?" Jaime sighs as his armor clasps on, flying next to you, lending you a hand as he blocks a punch. "Having trouble?"

"Appreciate the help." You smile, landing a kick to the villain's face, stepping on it as you send him into the ground. The back of your heel causes a crack to ring and the man's face to cave in, and Jaime stares, eyes wide as Khaji Da tells him that the man's alive and has a high chance of survival. "Are you visiting? Does my city owe a member of the Justice League something?"

"No," Jaime shakes his head. "I... I live here now. I just moved."

"You... alright." You mumble. "For all I know, you could be moving here for retirement."

"Hey, I am not that old." Jaime gasps. "I'm—"

Khaji Da stops him before he can reveal his age. A smarter choice. Jaime really needs to fix his blurting problem.

You raise a brow at him, leaning closer, tilting your head. "You're...?"

"Uh, top secret information." He smiles, trying his best to focus on your face and not the way you were practically sticking on him. It was bad enough that he thought you were cute. He did not need another reason for being head over heels in love with you. Seriously, he's not the type for love at first sight, what kind of witchery do you have?!

You huff, leaning back. "Alright. You do you."

"Are there many villains here?"

"Not really. Just pigface here." You point at the man under you. "Though, you'll probably bring in your fair share of supervillains, huh?"

"I don't have that many."

"Still have some." You hum. "Alright. See you around, beetle boy. I wouldn't recommend sticking around. The police kinda hate us."

Jaime looks at the unconscious man as you fly. "Wait, do we—"

The police arrive as he's cut off, and he races off himself. He did not want a bullet shot at him, but he also did not want to deal with the police so early on in a new city. That could be saved for some time that wasn't right now.

Besides, he has his bio seminar to get to. Seriously, what is with him and arriving late to class?

Turns out, Jaime bumps into you much more than he thinks is coincidental.

First, the two of you bump into each other at the cafeteria, then the two of you meet at the library, then at the gym, and then you share a building at the dorms? Seriously, what is with the two of you and meeting? At this point he might as well call one of you a stalker, and it is most certainly not him. He doesn't think it's you either, especially with how unnerved you are while bumping into him. All you do is wave hello with a small smile and head the other way. Seriously, he was looking creepy. You were cute, he did NOT want to be scaring you off before he could even befriend you. Besides, it's not like his body is— it's... Khaji Da, isn't it.

"¿hermano, la estás acosando?" Jaime mumbles to the scarab. boy, are you stalking her?

I don't know what you're talking about

"'kay, can we cut it down? Seriously, I'd like to not see her every day."

I thought you liked her.

"Thinking someone is cute does not equate to liking them." He groans, swiping his student ID to get his lunch.

I am simply creating more opportunities for the two of you to meet

"Can you not control my body for something like this?" He takes his salad, running a hand through his hair as he crashes into someone. "Oh, I am sosorry—"

You blink up at him, shaking your head.

she says it's fine

"Are you sure? Let me know if I can do anything to make it up to you, really." Jaime nods.

You wave your hand, dismissing him as you head upstairs to find an empty table.

increased heart rate detected

"Oh, dios, please be quiet." Jaime rushes out of the cafeteria, embarrassment all over his face, cheeks flushed with blood.

As he reaches his dorm, he hears the sound of something going off almost comically, and he freezes. Didn't you mention that there weren't many supervillains other than the guy that was arrested recently? Come on.

The cafeteria you were just at. No signs of human damage. The girl is fighting.

Jaime sets his salad down, opening the window, and jumping out, his suit sending him straight to the cafeteria, blasting a piece of wood out of the way as your hand finds itself around the man's throat as Jaime sets down next to you.

"I thought you said there weren't many supervillains here?" Jaime's arm shifts into a taser as he presses it to the man, knocking him out.

"But plenty of frustrated college students." You smile at him. "this one tried bombing the building."

Jaime blinks.

heartbeat steady. Not lying.

"What's your name, by the way?"

"Wouldn't you like to know, beetle boy." You roll your eyes.

"Do you not have a name?"

You tilt your head at him. "And if I do?"

"Why won't you tell me?"

"Who knows. Maybe you'll commit identity fraud." You smile, tapping his chest twice. "Though, you seem a little too tall to steal my identity."

"I won't, so could I please know the name of the partner I'll be working with to fight crime?" Jaime holds his hand out for you, leaning down slightly to stare at you.

"Kinda hard to tell sincerity through those gorgeous yellow eyes of yours, beetle." You give him your hand anyway, shaking it. "Unidentified. Though, the police like calling me Euterpe."

"Like the greek muse?"

"Yeah. In charge of music and stuff." You shrug. "You're just blue beetle because of the suit, huh?"

"Yeah." He pauses. "Are the police coming?"

"They always are." You hum. "Two minutes, maybe."

"How do they know when you don't call?"

"I don't need to." You tilt your head slightly. You point at the students outside the building that Jaime had passed. "They do."

"Are you the school mascot or something?"

"Time's up." You smile. "Alright beetle boy, time to get going."

You speed off into the air as Jaime chases after you. "You didn't answer my question!"

"You have a lot of questions for someone who's just arrived." You come to an abrupt stop as Jaime freezes into place.

"Seriously, how has the Justice League not cataloged you? They sent me a list of everyone in the city and—"

"God, B's just as crazy as I remember him being." You grimace. "I'm not on the catalog— too secretive for his liking. B would really rather not catalog me."

"Why's that."

You pause. "I have a handful of mutant genes instead of just one. Weird superpowers come with all of them. If you really want my file, go find Red Robin at the Titans' tower. He ran a whole sampling of my DNA and everything. The Titans Archive has my file."

"Why doesn't Batman have it?"

"Mm..." You pause. "No time?"

"That man is retired. You have to have a better explanation than just that."

"Can we take it to the dorms? I'm at the point where I think you know who I am anyway." You sigh. "You keep bumping into me on a campus this big. You're practically stalking me."

"I'm not—"

"You're going to have to prove that to me. I see you everywhere." You sigh. "I have a single complex, come on."

"Did you win the lottery?"

"You can do a lot with a voice like mine." You drop onto the roof, suit coming off as you do.

"How'd you get that off?"

"Illusion magic."

"Seriously, you're practically a green lantern." He grimaces. "Or a magician."

"Your suit just came off too, you know?" You raise a brow, swiping your ID. "Does the beetle do that? Can I see the beetle?"

"Next thing I know you'll be asking me to strip for you." Jaime jokes.

"Oh, well, not that I'd be against that, but—" You shut up when you pass a student.

"At least you have a filter." He mumbles.

"How old are you anyway? I was going to ask if you were a fourth year, but from the way you don't know where the bio building is, there's no way you are." You glance at the signs.

"First year."

"Oh, so like, fresh out of high school?"

"No, I took a gap year." he hums. "Now I'm trying to finish college and get into dental school."

"Oooh, big dreams." You mumble. "I'll let you practice on me when you're in dental school."

"It isn't cosmetology, you know?"

"Eh." You shrug. Your keys materialize in your hand as you unlock the door to your dorm. "The fake teeth can only last you for so long. Welcome to my dorm."

"What kind of luck do you have?"

"I told you. My voice." You smile. "Would you like to see it in action? Have the scarab read my lips for you. You'll need earplugs. What's your Starbucks order?"

"A cappuccino. Wh-what are you doing?" Jaime chases after you as you step out of your apartment again, knocking on the door across the hall. You toss him earplugs with a wink, knocking on your neighbor's door. Jaime puts them in as he watches you.

"What?" A guy opens the door, visibly annoyed.

Your lips part, sickly sweet words spilling down your tongue, and Khaji Da speaks.

"could you get me a grande cappuccino and sweetened peach green tea from the Starbucks downstairs? Set it by my door and knock when you finish, please?" You bat your lashes at him twice, and the guy blinks back.

Jaime watches in shock as something glazes over the guy's eyes and he nods at you, heading inside and coming out with his phone in hand, locking his door as he heads down the hall.

"That's one of my abilities." You smile. You reach for the plugs in his ears, and he flinches back slightly, pulling them out himself. "Sorry. Am I too much?"

"It's really hard to have a normal heartbeat around someone like you."

"Honored you would think of me as hot." You smile. "Do you want anything to eat? I cook."

"You got tamales?"

"Oh, I do! I just dropped by one of the cultural clubs' president's house, and she came back with a bag of them. I just don't know how to cook them. Care to help?" You rummage through your freezer, brows furrowed. "Here. Yeah?"

Jaime holds his hand out for you to hand it to him, and he hums. "You got a steamer?"

"Top cabinet on the left of the stove." You hum.

"Do they make you pay utilities here?"

"No." You hum. "Which is why I keep the lights and AC on the entire day. I only turn off the lights in my room when I sleep."

"How much... is it a year?"

You visibly freeze, closing the fridge. "I'd rather not discuss that."

"A lot?"

"I don't look at the bill when I send all of it as fake invoices to Wayne Enterprises." You laugh awkwardly, pulling the steamer out.

warning: rapid heart rate increase.

"Yes, Khaji, I know." He mumbles through his teeth.

"Hm?"

"No, not you." He smiles. "How do I put this? I have a scarab in my back."

"Oh, I know." You smile. "It's pretty... visible when you're at the gym. there's like a huge bump on your back."

"You look at me at the gym?!"

"Hard not to when your back muscles look like that. You got a routine I can follow?" You wiggle your brows jokingly.

"Um, lifting seven hundred pounds worth of metal when a skyscraper falls over."

"Oh, I don't need to do that." You shrug. "I just tell the metal to get out of the way."

"Your voice works on more than just humans?"

You puff your cheeks, looking to the side. "Yes?"

"Do you have like, some cosmic control over the universe or something?"

"I could pull a my little pony princess celestia and tell the sun to go down right now." You bat your lashes innocently.

Jaime blinks owlishly, fear in the back of his mind, confusion on his face. You can what. What in the Mary Sue self insert is that voice of yours? It was like God himself made you extra special, even down to the genetics. A metahuman could have powers that strong? Though, how did you even discover that you could make the sun set? Something else snaps at the thought of your voice being so powerful. Can you command... food to cook?

"Couldn't you just cook the tamales with your voice?"

"I've never really tried that." You pause. "I don't know what works and doesn't work, I just know that I can make the sun set and moon rise."

"YOU'VE TRIED!?"

You ignore him, pulling out a tamale. "Cook, please?"

You toss it in the air as it gets hot instantly, and before Jaime can react, Khaji Da is sending his body to grab a plate and catch the tamale. You blink as Jaime catches it (just barely) and the two of you exhale in relief as Jaime sets the plate down. You blink at the bag and then at the piping hot tamale on the plate, jaw-dropping.

"I never have to cook ever again." You mumble. "Oh my god... this is a revelation. This is so much easier than I ever thought it'd be."

"Though, it might be better to cook it on a plate next time." Jaime mumbles, setting the plate down.

burn detected on left hand.

Jaime grabs your wrist, unfolding your hand as he stares at the wound. "It's hurt."

"Oh, I can just—"

"Do you want me to wrap it for you?" Jaime stares at you, eyes gentle, and your heart soars. Holy fuck he's cute. Yeah, screw the voice thing, he's wrapping it up for you. You're gonna take advantage of this. God, you're going to combust. Holy shit, was someone allowed to look this cute? You need to go outside and touch grass, holy shit.

"Y-yeah! Sure!" You blink, eyes wide. "Please. Thank you. I'll uh, give me a second." You stare at the cabinet. "Open, please."

The cabinet door opens.

"First aid kit, land on the counter, please?"

The kit lands, and you call to close the cabinet as there's a knock on the door. Jaime lets go of your hand, turning to go to the door.

"I'll get i—" You place a hand on Jaime's shoulder, shaking your head.

"Stay, please."

Jaime finds himself stuck in place as you open the door, a smile on your face as you take the drinks.

"Do you need anything else?" It's the same guy as before.

"Nope." You smile. "Thank you."

Jaime watches as the man's eyes return to normal, a confused look on his face as he raises a brow at you.

"Should, I, uh, pay you back for the drinks? How much was it?" You blink prettily at him, and Jaime's heart stops when the guy waves you off.

heart rate quickened. indicated attraction to her.

Holy fuck, were you using pretty privilege on your flatmate?

He leaves eventually, and you place the drinks on the counter. "A hot cappuccino during summer?"

"There's AC in your dorm." Jaime mumbles. "Did you use pretty privilege on him?"

"Oh, silly boy." You laugh. "Everyone thinks I'm the most attractive person ever."

"How?" Jaime tries moving, realizing you had put him in place. "Can I be freed?"

"Thank you for staying still." You smile.

"You don't want a tamale?" He opens the first-aid kit, pulling out the bandages and gauze.

"After I burned myself? I'd rather not." You wince as Jaime disinfects the burn.

"How'd you manage to burn yourself?"

"Erm... not sure!" You hum. "but I cooked the tamale."

"Let's cook it the normal way next time." Jaime mumbles. "You want me to cook anything?"

"Can you cook?"

"Yes, most definitely." Jaime wraps your wound gently, brows pulled into a worried frown. "worked at my tía's diner over summer during my gap year."

"Wow, sounds fun." You hum.

"You ever worked?"

"No." You mumble. "My work is my superhero business. I have a gofundme to help. You'd be surprised at how long of a way a little fanservice goes. Can you just boil me some soft eggs?"

"Runny yolk?"

"Semi." You hum. "I have a sauce in the fridge to marinate the eggs in. Thank you."

"Do you enjoy cooking? You have every single sauce and spice I can imagine." Jaime rummages through your cabinet. "Also, what did you mean earlier by everyone thinks you're the most attractive person ever?"

"Beauty is subjective— yeah, I like cooking— so if I tell myself that I want to be the prettiest person in the world, then everyone sees me slightly differently. It's a little manipulative, but it gets the job done." You mumble.

"What about the creeps?"

"I can fight." You hum.

"Is there a reason you need to come off as that way?"

"Only when I'm in suit." You hum. "I look perfectly plain when I'm out of the superhero face."

"And what's this fanservice of yours?"

You smile, your cheeks pulling up but your eyes unchanged. "My onlyfans is linked on my twitter."

Jaime chokes as he turns off the sink, neck-snapping to look at you. "W-what?"

"That was a joke." You hum. "It's just a gofundme. I'm... I'm close with a good number of fans. It's like Superman, you catch my drift?"

"He does have a good relationship with the citizens of Metropolis."

"Yeah, and Batman's hated by all." You snort. "That's a joke. Gotham would kill for that man."

"They would?"

"Ask a Gothamite what they think about Batman and you get an annoyed grunt, but lasso them with the lasso of truth, and they'll admit that they're actually grateful for the man." You lean on the palm of your head. "Thank you for making me the most attractive person ever."

Nothing changes for Jaime as he blinks at you. He blinks a couple more times at you, wondering if his eyes were deceiving him, but you look the exact same. The realization causes a smile to break onto his face slowly, eyes warm and affectionate as he looks at you. You're already pretty to him. How beautiful.

"So? You like how I look?"

"You look the same." Jaime hums, jumping when the water nearly boils over, opening the cap as he places the eggs in. "shit."

You laugh, chest flushed with warmth, shy smile on your lips. Your chest feels overwhelmingly full, like a piece of it that had been lost was returned to you, making you whole again. God, he can't just say that to you and expect you to not fall for him. You grimace inwardly. Falling at the slight sign of affection. How classic of you. Though, your chest is warm, and that was always a good feeling to have. "Yeah?"

"Yeah." He blinks at you.

increasing heart rate—

"Please, not now." He hisses.

"Does the beetle speak?"

"To me." Jaime mumbles. "He's like a voice in my head."

"Could I suggest putting an earbud in to pretend you're on the phone so you don't look insane?"

Jaime pauses. "Huh. I've never considered that."

"Yeah." You mumble. "It gets people off your ass."

"How come you don't speak when you're walking around?" He raises a brow. "I thought you were mute until the scarab identified you as the hero."

You shrug. "It's easier."

"Easier for what?"

You shrug. "People don't talk to you much when you don't speak."

"Do you want me to peel the eggs for you?" Jaime lifts the pot into the sink.

"Oh, no, it's fine. Thank you." You hum, getting out of the seat. You wave him off as you pour the water out, focusing on the eggs. "Peel the shell off cleanly, please."

The eggshells detach perfectly, and you open your fridge, pulling out the sauce.

"Are you in any clubs?"

"Acapella Choir and Writer's United." You mumble. "I also hang out with the kids in musical theater."

"I forgot that was a major here."

"We're a surprisingly art-oriented school for one with such a good stem program." You seal the container again, putting it in the fridge. "Clean yourselves, please."

The dishes turn clean with a swirl, and you place them in the dish machine to dry.

"What's the magic word?" Jaime raises a brow.

You smile. "Can't say it."

"Why not?"

"Then it'll come true." You hum. "I think you've listened enough times for it."

"How come you don't fight crime with it?" He hums. "Your voice would do wonders."

You hum. "It wears my voice out."

"Do you speak to your professors?"

"Yeah?" You raise a brow.

"But you don't speak to students?"

"I speak when necessary." You shrug.

"So telling me where the bio building wasn't necessary?"

"No." You sigh. "Of course not. Oh, right. I never learned your civilian name. I can't just keep calling you beetle boy."

"Jaime. Jaime Reyes." He holds his hand out for you, and you take it, your own name spilling past your lips.

Jaime finds that you're not as much of a red flag as you came off as. You bump into him every now and then, nodding as you do, and then you rush off for your classes. Jaime only ever gets to speak to you while on duty, wrestling the criminals to the ground as you knock them out. He doesn't get to speak to you very much— the police have gotten much faster with arriving at the scene of the crime. Usually, by the time he's chased after you, you've already detransformed and gone to class. Seriously, your schedule is appalling. How many units are you even taking?

"Alright, I know you're in there. Come on, open up." Jaime knocks on your door for the nth time, and you finally, finally open it, sighing at him.

"What do you want?"

"To hang out? Seriously, I haven't made any friends since coming here other than you, and that's only because you and I fight crime together!"

"That does not sound like a me problem." You deadpan.

"I brought tea."

"Oh, why didn't you start with that?" You open the door fully, letting Jaime in. "I'll let you chill for a bit, but I have somewhere to go in a little."

"Where? It's 7pm on a Tuesday." He sets the tea on the counter, raising a brow.

"Frat party starts at 8 but you're technically supposed to get there starting 9. No one ever goes on time." You hum. "Did you want to stay the night?"

"No. That'd be a little..." He pauses. "Mami raised a man better than that."

You bark out a laugh. "That's sweet. Thank your mom for that, please. Not many women end up with such sweethearts of children."

"Are you calling me a sweetheart?" Jaime grins.

"Mm, sure." You hum. "Much better than half of the men on campus, that's for sure."

"Why are you going to a frat party?"

"For the vibes." You hum. "I also got news that something was going to happen there, so you gotta be prepared, you know? It's halfway across campus."

"Should I go?"

"If you want." You hum. "Give me a sec, I'll move everything to the island."

"Do you need help?" He cranes his neck as you disappear into the corridor.

"I'll be fine." You call.

Jaime watches as you move a bag and mirror onto the table, and he watches in silence as you start your makeup.

spike of dopamine in bloodstream. hermano, do something. ask her out.

"No!" Jaime hisses. "she's going to think it's creepy!"

"What's creepy?" You raise a brow at him, amusement on your lips.

"Nothing! Khaji is speaking." Jaime avoids your eyes.

"Is that the beetle's name?" You go back to the makeup.

"Yes."

You hum back, finishing with your makeup, pausing.

"Couldn't you have the magic do it?"

"Yeah, but," You sigh. "it only knows how to do my hero look."

"It's taught?"

"I can make it copy images on a screen, but I dont have that many products to work off of." You hum. "You want me to do your makeup?"

"I'm good." Jaime mumbles. "Is a frat party even safe?"

"Depends on the person. Is it icky? Yes. Is it fun to feel individualization in a crowd of strangers? Also yes." You hum.

"Don't you get hit on if you..." He pauses. "no. you're not in costume."

"I sure am going to get hit on if I transform, though." You hum. "It's happened before. They like spiking poison or toxins in frat party drinks. Can Khaji Da scan water for toxins?"

yes.

"He said yes." Jaime mumbles.

"Then go with me?" You smile at him awkwardly. "Please? Maybe you'll make friends there too. Hm? Didn't you come in complaining about how you didn't know anyone here?"

Jaime sighs. "I'm not drinking, though."

"Oh, yeah. Your boundaries still matter, obviously." You pause. "Don't Mexican families throw huge parties and drink there?"

"Sorry, let me rephrase that. I'm not drinking frat house beverages." Jaime corrects himself. "Someone's saliva could be in it for all I know."

"'kay, yeah, that makes sense." You mumble. "Are you just going to go in that?"

"What do you mean?"

"Mm." You think for a moment, staring at Jaime. "You know what. Yeah. The shirt's fine. Unbutton two buttons and you'll be fine."

"Huh?"

"Do you need me to do it?" You raise a brow. "They won't let you in if you look too formal, but they also won't let you in if you look too casual. Well, that's a lie. They'd let you in if you were in a tank top, but since you can't... at least try and look like a frat boy."

"I'm hurt." Jaime scoffs as you step close to him.

"Can I?"

"Do what you must."

You reach a hand into his hair, messing it up first, blinking slowly at his face. Jaime holds his breath as you're practically stuck on him, chest pressed to his, and he swears his heartbeat is scarily quick right now. He stares down at your eyes as you stare at his hair, fingers pulling gently to mess it up more than it was. In fact, he should be—

warning: quickened heart beat.

There it is.

Jaime curses under his breath, and you stop, blinking up at him as he leans back.

"Hm?"

"That's the scarab. My heart's beating too fast." He avoids your gaze again, looking up at the ceiling.

"So like, a defense mechanism?" You tilt your head. "Can I... unbutton your shirt slightly?"

"Yeah, uh, sure." He holds his breath as you slide it open slightly, freezing in place when you stare at his chest for a little too long. "You alright?"

"Yeah." You mumble, pulling away, hiding your face. "Yeah. I'm fine. God."

detected increased heart rate.

"You sure?" He tilts his head to get a better look at you, noticing your skin has flushed darker. Ah. So you were flustered too.

"You wanna go?" You finally speak up. "We should get going. It's across town."

"We can fly there. Well, you can."

"I'm not flying for a frat party."

"And you'll walk?"

"At least I won't be drunk." You mumble. "Besides, I can just sleep on one of the benches here. At least we don't have anti-homeless architecture on this campus."

"What's with all the crime on campus anyway?"

"Oh, you didn't know? Everyone here is tied into crime in some way." You smile, opening your fridge. "there's correlation between creativity and sociopathic tendencies, after all."

Jaime blinks slowly. "What."

stable heart beat. Not lying.

"Heros end up desensitized too." You pull out the whipped cream, squirting it right into your mouth as you swallow. You lick your lips as you set the bottle back into the fridge."Come on."

The school is shaped more and more like a prison, Jaime thinks. The architecture is shooting proof, and all the windows are bulletproof. He wasn't sure if it was because of safety worries or the amount of crime. The school wasn't known for crime, so it was a little strange being told that petty crime was common in the school. Well, maybe it was. It's probably less than whatever's going on in Gotham anyway.

"Is... petty crime common here?" Jaime winces at how uncertain he sounds.

"It's..." You pause. "It's not that common, actually. It just seems that ever since you came, our crime rate has gone up."

"Pinning the blame on me?" Jaime fakes offense.

"Yeah." You joke. "Any plans on how to make friends?"

"Any tips?"

"Find the people who are in the corner." You mumble. "Or something. I don't know. Get to know people over drinks. Just have the beetle scan the drinks for anything bad for you."

"What should I not touch?"

"The punch. The beer is usually fine. The beer tends to be canned."

"And the vodka?"

"It's alright. I take a shot of punch for liquid confidence, though." You hum. "But today I can't. I'll just have to shoot straight vodka."

"Or you could just, not drink?"

You shrug, getting to the door of the house, a guy greeting you.

"Ay! You're back!" He grins.

You grin back. "I brought a friend today. That's alright, right?"

"For you, sugarlips? Always."

You lick your lips, winking as you step into the house, Jaime in tow, his hand in yours.

half of the people here's bloodstream have high concentration of alcohol already. beware.

"Got it." Jaime mumbles, following behind you as you squeeze through the crowd. He gets a couple of looks, raised brows in interest and flirty winks. He wonders if you get this often too. Well, if you came and went looking like that, then surely you would. Maybe that's why everyone calls you a nickname. Jaime grows frustrated as he thinks of it. Did you have someone else?

"Sugarlips!" A guy wraps an arm around your shoulder, smiling. "Come back for more?"

"Brought a friend today." You point at Jaime.

The guy doesn't even bother looking at Jaime. "Your boy?"

"Not quite." You smile. "Hands off of him, though. You wouldn't mind telling the girlies that, would you?"

"No worries." He gives you a wink. "Should I tell the boys to keep their hands off too?"

Jaime nods at you, squeezing your hand gently.

"Please." you lick your lips, a smile on your face.

"Watch the punch for me, will you? Don't want anyone drugging it."

"We'll watch the punch." You nod.

"Of course, sugar." He laughs, nodding at Jaime as he heads back into the crowd.

"Well?" You tilt your head at Jaime as he stares at the punch.

Stick your finger in it for more thorough analysis. I can't tell anything without contact.

"Need a cup."

You grab a red solo cup, scoop the drink without the ladle and hand it to him. Jaime blinks twice at the liquid before giving up. Oh well, it's a frat party. What can he do about it?

"Is it always this messy?" Jaime sticks his finger in, waiting for the analysis.

"Occasionally it's worse." You hum. "So? Did you find anything?"

Unknown aphrodisiac toxin detected. Rohypnol drug detected. Liquid alcohol content 37%.

"Rophynol and an unknown aphrodisiac." Jaime repeats. "Alcohol content is 37%."

"Remove the flunitrazepam from the punch, please." You mumble quietly, the water swirling slowly from people's drinks. The powder hangs in the air as you open a plastic bag. "put the flunitrazepam into the bag, please." The powder swirls into the bag, and Jaime watches as you tuck it into your pocket. The crowd of people with drinks don't notice at all, not even when something bubbles out of their drinks.

"Then?" He raises a brow.

"Go have fun." You hum, flicking the cap off of the vodka. "Or have Khaji Da scan the people to figure out who decided to put the date rape drug in the punch, but not my problem." You pour yourself a shot. "I already figured it out when I walked in."

You tilt your head as you watch the vodka pour into the glass, eyes glistening as you do, eyes gentle and tired, and Jaime finds something in your eyes. He's not quite sure what it is, the spotty lights in the living room painting your skin different colors, but there's something about you, he supposes. Even in the way he takes your outfit in, finally, staring too hard at your face. Reds and greens dance across it, leading down to your shoulder. Something glistening on your arm catches his attention.

"You have powder on your shoulder." He reaches to wipe it. "who was it?"

"It's fine." You brush him off, putting the vodka back on the table. "Want a shot?"

Jaime furrows his brows, your name slipping past his lips. "who was it?"

Your name sounds like honey coming from him as you down the shot. God, you were down bad.

"Seriously, who is it?" Jaime knows at this point, only one person had touched your shoulder, but he wants to hear it from your mouth.

"Guy who had his hand on my shoulder. That's why he asked me to guard the drinks. Be right back." You smile at him, slipping into the crowd, going to find the girl he had his hands on.

Jaime tries following after you but loses you in the crowd, grimacing. You were probably looking for the guy who drugged everyone. "Khaji. Find her."

upstairs bedroom second on the left.

Jaime squeezes past the crowd to try and find you. If the guy was capable of drugging the punch, then god knows what he was capable of doing to you if you went alone. Sure, you can fight, but what if something does happen? He didn't want you getting hurt, even if he knew you could fight without a problem.

sounds like you like the girl

"Khaji, can you please," He slams the door open, staring as you have the man on the ground, heel pressed on his windpipe, the girl still unconscious on the bed. Jaime lets out a breath in relief as he steps over to you, Spanish spilling past his lips before he can think too much. "gracias a dios. ¿mi vida, qué demonios estás haciendo? ¡No huyas solo!" thank god. my life, what are you doing? Don't run off by yourself!

You blink in surprise as he breaks into scolding in Spanish, grabbing you by the arms, tilting your head to get a proper look for any bruises that could have landed on you, cursing you out for running off on your own, and you blink trying to keeping up with his words. At some point you press a hand over his mouth, pointing down at the man under you. Jaime follows your finger, remembering that you're stepping on a man's neck. You... crazy. Only you. He hears Khaji Da laugh in his head.

"We've really got a knack for speaking when you have a man's throat under your foot, huh?" Jaime mumbles, furrowing his brows. "Let him go."

"You called me mi vida." You press your chest to his, staring at him, batting your lashes. The pet name sends blood rushing to your head, drunk on the way it sounded so sweet falling from his lips. Did he mean it? Did he mean it when he called you his life? "Did you mean it?"

"It slipped out."

from your unconscious maybe.

"Khaji, shut up." Jaime hisses, face impossibly flushed. "Get off the man before he dies."

You step off of him, the man long passed out.

"Is he still breathing?"

breathing: stable

Jaime exhales quietly.

"So? Mi vida?" You smile cheekily, pointing at yourself. "Am I tu vida?"

Jaime tries avoiding the topic. You're a little tipsy right now. "You literally had a single shot. How are you already–"

blood alcohol content from breath: .06

"Seriously?!" Jaime grimaces as you stare up at him, expecting an answer, cheeks puffed out and frown on his face. "Will you get off of me if I say yes?"

"Depends if you're being honest." You grin, pressing your ear to his chest, listening to his heartbeat. "Push me off if you're uncomfortable."

"Seriously, you're drunk. You're probably not even conscious of half of the stuff you're doing." Jaime peels you from him, throwing you over his shoulder.

"EEK!! I'm being carried like a sack of potatoes!" You shriek, laughing. The alcohol is really messing with your brain. "I'll stay in the room. Go call for the guy at the door we greeted earlier. He'll know how to deal with this."

"I thought frathouses let things like this slide?" He sets you down on the bed next to the girl.

"Not this one. Especially not when he actually planned on doing something." You beam at him, eyes closed, lips quirked upward. "So, could you?"

"If you say the magic word." He tilts his head. He could have a little fun with you.

"That would make it a command." You mumble. "How about something I can give you? Go make a friend downstairs. Give him a friend, p—"

Jaime presses his hand to your mouth. "I don't need the help, thank you."

You blink slowly at him, licking his palm.

"Where'd you even learn that?!" He pulls his had away with a grimace.

"Go get the guy at the door." You groan. "I want to leave if you aren't going to make any friends."

"I'll take you home and then come back to make some friends if you really want me to." Jaime mumbles.

"It'll be too late by then. The police are coming soon."

"Huh?"

"Noise complaints." You shrug. "They break up around 1 or 2 am, so it'll be soon."

"It's been that long?!"

"Go get the guy from the door!" You land in the bed with a thud, sighing. "God, before I kiss you or something. Hurry up."

"Huh?" Jaime freezes in his tracts, turning around to stare at you.

"Don't you wanna know why they call me sugarlips?" You pout, resting your pinky on your bottom lip as you jut it out. You pull it down with a pop, blood rushing to Jaime's head as you do. He needs to leave before he does something to you. God, his self-control could only last him so long.

"That's definitely the alcohol talking." Jaime mumbles frantically, shutting the door behind him. His ears and face feel eerily warm despite being sober.

Ugh, you were a force to be reckoned with.

He hauls you out eventually, flying you to the dorm instead of walking, worried that you'd get hit on, even as he unlocks the door with his ID, you mumble quietly, half-asleep, half-conscious.

"Wake up. I don't know where your key is." Jaime shakes you gently. "Come on."

"Call me mi vida again." You whisper.

He complies, setting you down, a hand around your waist for support. "Mi vida, get your key, will you?"

You fish out the key, unlocking the dorm room. "Wanna stay the night?"

"I'm two floors down. It's fine." He mumbles.

key replication made

"What." Jaime freezes at Khaji's update. "excuse me?"

"Hm?" You raise a brow, door half-open.

"Not you. Shower and go to sleep when you get in." He sighs. "Yeah?"

"Can I have a goodbye ki—"

Jaime shoves you into your dorm, slamming the door closed as he holds it in place, heart racing, cheeks flushed, lips parted as he desperately tries to catch his breath. God. You are such a force to be reckoned with. He's going to get a heart attack with you around sometime. You're twice as bad when you're drunk. But hell did he want to kiss you. Too bad you were drunk. He couldn't think of taking advantage of you like that, even if you were the one who asked.

Jaime makes a mental note to keep you away from alcohol next time.

The next time you see Jaime, the two of you are actually fighting someone again. Your suit is on, your voice stopping the metal from slamming onto the civilians as you evacuate them. Jaime focuses on the man himself, hand transforming into a blaster as he shoots at the villain. Didn't you say most of the crime was minuscule in comparison with other cities? Well, this was minuscule compared to how many beetles he's fought because of who he was. At least there weren't other beetles in the city.

"I thought you said there weren't supervillains in this city!" He yells at you, voice coming out altered.

"They don't come often!" You yell, turning your attention to the metal. "Fall, please."

The metal slams down onto the ground as you tackle Jaime out of the way.

"Why did you let it fall?!"

"I can't hold things up for too long my throat hurts!" You shriek, turning to face the floating criminal." Pass out, right now, please!"

The supervillain drops on the ground with a thud, and you exhale, faceplanting into Jaime's suit with a sigh. You stay there for a couple of seconds, catching your breath, groaning as you finally sit up straight. Jaime can feel the plush of your skin despite the suit's barrier, and it is not something to feel while the adrenaline after a fight dissolves in his system.

"It was that easy!?" He rests on his arms, suit scanning the unconscious criminal.

"My throat hurts." You mumble, walking over to where the criminal was passed out. "Two minutes until police come."

"I'll fly you." He sits up with you, linking his arms behind your back and under your legs, wings fluttering as he soars into the sky. "Who pays reparation fees?"

"Taxes." You cough. "Ow."

"Stop talking!"

"Stop asking me questions— heUG." You reach to grab your throat, grimacing.

"Alright. Stop talking until we can figure out how to get your voice back without killing you." He groans. "At this point we might as well live on the dorm roof."

You grimace.

"Was your throat damaged when we met the first day?"

You shake your head.

"Oh, so you just hated me."

You lunge at him, annoyed.

initiating rough translation... "Are you crazy!? Do you know how much energy it takes to knock a supervillain out with my voice? You think I'm superman?! I didn't hate you the first day, I just didn't think it was worth the effort!"

"Don't lunge at me while I'm flying!" Jaime shrieks, nearly dropping you as he lands on the roof with a crash. "I didn't know! I can't analyze your entire genetic structure just from looking at you, you know?!"

"would you like to see me naked, then?"

"NO!" Jaime yells, leaning back as you shift on his lap. "Dios, now everyone's going to know that I landed on the roof. Hurry up on back to your place now."

"Jaime, pretty boy."

"What?" He tries to ignore the way the back of his head rushes with warmth at the pet name.

"I can't detransform without my voice."

Jaime freezes in place, blinking at you slowly as he lunges to grab you by the shoulders. "Speak. Detransform right now—"

"I CAN'T."

"You know," Jaime pauses. "I'm impressed that you can tell, Khaji. How are you reading her body language so well?"

unlike you, I have been observing her body language. she is a suitable person for you to date.

"WHAT." Jaime chokes, coughing to get the spit caught in his throat out. You jolt as he rests his head on your chest, coughing profusely.

Jaime, I need to see her in order to translate. Though, her heartbeat is abnormally fast.

Jaime looks up at you, where you're looking down at him, lips parted in embarrassment, eyes wide with confusion, skin flushed with warmth. Jaime probably doesn't look much better under the suit right now, his own heart fighting to break through his ribcage. You're just... so pretty. He stares at you a little too hard, eyes drinking in your figure, forgetting how close you are to him.

"Can I kiss you?"

That cuts Jaime out of his thoughts as he leans away from you. "I did not need to hear you ask if you could kiss me with the scarab's voice."

You blink at him owlishly, mischief dancing in your eyes.

"No." He answers. "Not with Khaji's voice asking me."

"will you go on a d—"

"NOT WITH HIS VOICE ASKING ME!" Jaime cries.

You grin at him cheekily, scooching close to press yourself to his chest again. You rest your cheek on his chest, lips curling upward as you bat your lashes. You like messing with him, he finds.

"Then my own?" Your lips pull further up, and Jaime swallows while staring at your lips.

"You didn't lose your voice?" He stumbles over himself as you blink.

"Not quite. It hurt for a bit, but my self-healing ability is quite impressive too. So?" You hum. "Can I?"

"Yeah, sure, mi vida," He mumbles, the helmet on his head coming off as he presses his lips to yours, lashes fluttering as your body arches to sink into him. His hand wraps around your wrist as he leans a little more in to get a better taste of your lips, another hand moving to the back of your head, tilting it as he stares at you through his lashes. He understands your nickname now, your lips do taste sweet, even when you haven't downed whipped cream. Ugh, he could spend eternity just making out with you, slowly, gently, without a care in the world. He pulls gently on your hair, leaning further in as he licks your bottom lip, exhaling more as his tongue darts past your pretty lips into your mouth. Your hand moves to press on his chest, whimpering as he tugs on your hair a little too hard.

You're just so pretty to him.

He lets out a sigh of satisfaction as you pull away for air, lips parted, eyes glazed over, a strand of saliva connecting your mouths.

Jaime reaches to wipe the saliva from your mouth with his thumb, smiling gently as he does.

God. Shit. He's in love with you.

unusually high levels of dopamine and adrenaline detected in bloodstream. quickened heartbeat warning.

"Can I kiss you again?" Jaime whispers.

"Yeah." You whisper back, smiling so hard your eyes crinkle.

Fingers in your hair and lips slotted against yours, Jaime thinks this is heaven for him. Even as the two of you have detransformed, still stuck on the roof of the dorms, your hands on his chest as he sinks further into your touch, smiling against your lips as you hum, the vibrations of your chest traveling to his as a pleasant buzz. Jaime closes his eyes all the way, and he only pulls away when you do, the gentle fondness still present in his eyes as he looks at you.

Yeah. That was what this is. Love.

The same love that was present in his mother's eyes, yet different from the love that was for his family. This love was newer— it made his skin crawl and his heart race, but it wasn't unpleasant. He felt giddy and boyish, falling for someone like this— he felt like it was having a first love, your cheeks flushed and ears red, shy glances stolen in a room full of people, only seeing you under the spotlight when other people existed. Jaime wanted to relish in this forever— the feeling of your skin pressed to his, he would stay with you forever if he could— If you'd let him.

"So?" You smile. "Know why now?"

Jaime pauses to stare at the way the sun shines through your hair and coats you in a glow of gold, his hands still on you as he looks up, a smile on his face. A laugh breaks past his lips at your smile, the happiness from finally having you in his arms sending blood through his body and genuine bliss through his system. Ah. Right. This was heaven to him— to have you in his arms and a smile on his face, the sun not even as bright as the way your eyes crinkle while looking at him, adoring him to the ends of the earth. Ah, it feels good to be loved.

"Mm..." Jaime hums playfully. "Maybe I'll know if you kiss me again."

"God, I think I just unleashed a monster."

"Your fault for being so irresistable, mi vida." He goes back to your lips, humming happily as he does.

Your relationship doesn't change much at first. The two of you are exclusive, yes, but neither of you have put a label on the relationship. Other than the making out in your dorm and occasionally while fighting, not much has really changed. You both have your classes, and you both have things that you are busy with. You wonder if you guys are just friends with benefits, then. Though, judging from the way Jaime looked at you, there was no way the guy thought you both were just friends.

Then, Jaime starts bringing food over to your dorm, clinging onto you while the two of you huddle on the couch with a movie playing in the background. You find yourself in his arms as you listen to his heartbeat at night, and suddenly the single dorm is a double, Jaime squished on your bed next to you, sprawled out with an arm around you lovingly as the two of you sleep. You're... definitely not friends with benefits. You're practically dating, huh?

"I'm here!" Jaime calls from the door, holding a bag of takeout with a bouquet in the other arm.

"What is it today?" You take the flowers from him with a smile.

"Bart visited today." He hums. "Said there was a good bagel place downtown he visited before."

"Ooh." You mumble. "Did you try it?"

"No, but I ordered something I figured you'd like." He takes out the boxes, sliding yours to you, smile on his face.

"Jaime, can I call you mi amor?" You tilt your head.

"You can call me whatever you want, mi vida." He hums. "Just you."

ew.

"Khaji, shush." He hisses at the beetle.

You open the takeout box, grinning at the bagel. "We should make this here."

"We should." He hums. "You'd probably make a better one too."

"Should have Bart judge it." You chew on the bagel, pausing. "Are we... dating?"

"Yeah. Why wouldn't we be?" Jaime pauses. "Oh. I forgot to ask you out, huh? Wait, I can prepare something nice and then as—"

"Jaime, go out with me?" You tilt your head, smile crinkling your eyes, your cheeks pulled upward with a foolish grin.

"Yes." he breathes. "Yes, mi vida. Forever and always, it's a yes."

You hum, pulling a flower out of the bouquet and tucking it behind his ear. "There. Now we're actually dating."

"Mi vida." He spins your chair to face him, arms gripping both sides, smile on his face. "Can I have a kiss?"

"For you? Always yes." You set the bagel down, wrapping your arms around his neck. "Though, I probably taste like bagel right now."

"You always taste good." Jaime mumbles, pressing his lips to yours.

And it's gentle, the way that Jaime loves. He presses his fingers into your skin and wraps his arms around you, relishing in the warmth you give him, and to him, you can do no wrong. Even if you make mistakes, he's there for you, slowly, gently, always there to anchor and weigh you down. You'll do the same for him, fingers threading through his hair, skin warm on his, a smile and voice reserved for him.

and god did Jaime love you for it.

[startagainaprologue]

WAITTT YOUR REQUESTS ARE OPEN?? can i have a siffrin+bonnie hug... if you wanna...... ^_^

YESSS!! the !!!!!! they mean so much to me

[crimsyoko]

Screenshot dump be upon ye

Throws something back-

This was the only one I actually liked out of the ones I doodled up pfft

[wetterfishguts]

Oh shit, requests are open? can i request Justowen?

theyre pretty neat

[peskellence]

could I please request some reed900... 👉👈

Nines' skin is malfunctioning, but Gavin reassures him (in his own, Gavin way) that he accepts him as he is? Skin or no skin?

thank you. bless. kiss. forever indebted💕

Say less, friend, I've got you 🫡

Fail Safe

Pairing: RK900/Gavin Reed

Tags: M/M, Established Relationship, Fluff, Praise and Affirmation, Self Acceptance.

AO3 Link

Summary: Gavin and Nines are on security duty when an unexpected cyber attack results in the android's synthetic skin being compromised. Despite his worries, Gavin reassures him that their bond runs deeper than the pieces they are made of.

Word Count: 4.7K

Gavin and Nines had been assigned to security duty at the opening ceremony for a new Jericho Community Centre. It was due to be a pretty contained event, nothing overly flashy or publicised. Normally, it wouldn't demand any police involvement, but there had been whispers the Anti Android Alliance planned to attend—staging some sort of protest. 

This turned out to be true, although not in the way that could've been anticipated. It seemed a particularly enlightened Dipshit In Charge had decided the usual M.O. of bats and bricks wouldn't cut it. Instead, they were going to make some waves with a street-deployed cyber attack. Send their 'message', whatever deranged bullshit that might be, by taking out some local figureheads with a home-brewed virus. 

Fuck knows how they'd manage to string together the spaghetti code with their three collective brain cells—or how they'd loaded up said clusterfuck onto the batons concealed in their pockets. Nevertheless, about five minutes into the presentation, they started swinging. Weapons bared and flung into the faces of nearby pedestrians as they tried to make their way to the stage. 

Shit hit the fan, but fortunately, not for their targets.

It turned out the engineering at Fuckhead H.Q. was just as shitty as the planning, as the would-be attempt at corporal justice folded like a house of cards. Most of the batons didn't work, and with the ones that did, the virus wasn't able to execute the way they'd wanted. 

The intent had been to infiltrate the android's core systems through mass corruption of their internal networks. Ultimately, overloading the CPU and causing permanent shutdown, but without plugging the device directly into an access port—which they clearly had no idea how to do, and their targets weren't about to help with—its reach was incredibly limited.

Basically, it couldn't do shit. Stalling at the first line of defence: the chassis. Digital garbage hurled at a plastic wall. 

Nines had been hit by one of the bastards—stuck in the side of the neck as he wrangled them away from a Jericho representative. Handling of the situation became a lot less gentle after that, with the man catapulted onto the floor, squealing like a pig as the android pinned his flailing limbs. Gavin had moved to assist, feeding the guy a couple of teeth for his trouble.

Total accident, of course. The man just happened to move his face as he was getting the cuffs on, and it just happened to slam into the detective's fist. 

He didn't get much of the chiding he'd usually expect for this, as the virus had started to do its thing. Working across his partner's body, flickering in patches like a broken LCD. The corruption branched down his throat before retreating beneath his collar in search of available access. 

Much like with the other android's affected, it failed. Nines was fine, mostly: the only exception being that the malware had managed to fuck up one of his less important functions. His synthetic skin. 

At least, that's what the Cyberlife Tech on the phone suggested was happening when they decided to call. The glitches spread, with the majority hidden beneath clothes—but Nines could undoubtedly feel the effects of corruption taking hold. While he wasn't sure if this was something they really needed to worry about, the concept alone left a bad taste in Gavin's mouth.

They were forced to leave reinforcements to book the fucker responsible, as well as the rest of his brain-dead friends. A shame, as the detective would have loved to acquaint him with the book about to be thrown his way. Maybe give him a black eye to go with the dental bill. 

As they made their way home, the vibrancy of glitches had started to decrease, fading into a translucent creep that filmed across the skin. Whatever receptors were present to lend cloaking abilities were beginning to short-circuit, creating an expanding kaleidoscope of freckles and plastic. 

Gavin used full siren privileges to run every red light they encountered, determined to weave through the traffic as quickly as possible. He had never seen the android so panicked—frenzied—like the car would be at risk of imploding if it didn't imminently materialise outside their home. 

With his understanding of Michigan Traffic Laws becoming increasingly lax, Nines continued to rip into the rep held at knifepoint in his temporal channel. He hadn't bothered to lock communication to his internal server and instead was speaking out loud—in a tone that a more diplomatic man might describe as 'a bit confrontational.'

In reality, he had gone all seven shades of middle-aged-mom-with-an-expired-coupon. Demanding the guy listen to every minute detail of his grievance and inform him how quickly it could be resolved. 

Gavin would have found this hilarious had the intensity not been a little terrifying. Instead, it inspired him to punch the gas harder, resulting in a chorus of beeps as he pulled a particularly dangerous manoeuvre around a sharp bend. 

It didn't seem to matter what the squeaky-voiced foetus on the line said; each suggestion was ruled unacceptable. Commencing a perpetual cycle of 'that isn't fast enough' and 'speak with your supervisor' and 'this is an emergency, William; it should be prioritised accordingly.' The rep responded to each chastisement with small, deflated whimpers, like a punctured balloon expelling air.

The virus, now engaged fully, worked in stages to target each section of artificial skin. Limbs faded out in sporadic blotches as glossy pinpricks expanded their way into dense bands of white. They tunnelled through rapidly shrinking pockets of flesh, with Nines looking like a six-foot lava lamp by the time they finally reached the apartment.

Admittedly, it was a strange image—with this something the android seemed astutely aware of. He had charged for the bathroom and locked himself in within seconds of entering their home, informing Gavin with no uncertainty he would not be coming out until help arrived.

This was all well and good at first, but after three hours—and five espressos—nature was calling. Not softly, either, having been forced to wait for a good fucking while. 

The pressure grew, and rather than risk a hole being punched through the wall of his bladder, Gavin concluded he couldn't hold it. Rapping his knuckle on the wood, he pressed his face against it, making a pointed appeal to his partner.

"Nines, I need a piss. Let me in for a sec." 

The request went ignored, bouncing uselessly off the door and crumpling at his feet. Frustrated, he knocked again, using his available grip to jiggle insistently on the handle. 

"Come on, I'm desperate. Open the fucking door."

"The Cyberlife technician will be here soon," an even tone greeted him, undercutting the demand. "I am confident you can wait a few more minutes."

"It's been more than a few, jackass."

"The operative advised that their arrival would fall between 2 and 7. As we are nearing 6:45, we can anticipate—"

Gavin disrupted the explanation with a prolonged groan of protest. His head lulled back as he grappled with a growing temptation to slingshot it through the panel. "Those windows mean jack shit. You'll be lucky if the bastard shows up before June. Hell, you'll be lucky if he shows up at all." 

There was a weighty pause as though Nines was attempting to formulate some form of mind-shattering retort. Words of assurance so profound they would effectively conclude the debate—as well as any and all that followed.

Despite having a world of knowledge quite literally wired to his brain, the android gave him nothing. Treading over the same tired deflection with a small, dejected huff. "Just wait. It won't take long." 

"If you don't let me in, I'm gonna go in the litter box—or the kitchen sink."

The latter threat inspired a visceral reaction. Gavin swore he could see the red casting from his partner's temple, seeping through the cracks under the door. "You wouldn't dare." 

"Try me. It's full of dishes. You want that on your conscience?"

As though taking a moment to grapple with the grim proposal, Gavin was made to wait in anticipation of his partner's reply. A lull that seemed to stretch endlessly, as he tried not to focus on the uncomfortable pressure in his groin. Crossing his legs, he tapped his foot impatiently—a motion that would have likely attracted the attention of a marauding cat were she not out harassing strays. 

There were muffled sounds behind the door, like rustling fabric, followed by the telltale scrape of something heavy being moved. It seemed like Nines had gone to the effort of barricading himself inside, just in case Gavin managed to break through the flimsy hold of the lock.

"Turn around and keep your eyes forward. I will only leave this room on the condition you do not look." 

"Yeah, sure, whatever," the man grunted, eyes rolling at the theatrics. "I swear I won't look. Scouts honour."

Another rustle followed—and a click—as an internal mechanism was turned and released. The door creaked forward, with casts of fluorescents from beyond the passage starting to leak into the hallway. True to his word, Gavin turned around. Gaze fixed on a nearby wall—as though the flecked chips of paint were the most engaging things he had ever seen.

The panel swung open completely, anchored on creaking hinges, and steady steps crossed the threshold. They did not progress much further, as Nines failed to meet the steady foundation of the carpet, instead greeted with a cat toy being compressed beneath his weight. 

The worn squeaker of the felt mouse strained to its absolute limit, wheezing in a prolonged cry, until it slipped out from beneath his toes and careened across the room. 

Shit.

Nines opposed the trajectory, fumbling back and colliding firmly with the weathered plaster behind him. Dangerously close to where they kept their beast of burden's scratching post.

Shit. 

Gavin wasn't sure if the glitching had affected his partner's durability, but he didn't want to find out. Certainly not by being forced to remove him from a surprisingly solid pillar of plywood. 

Nines already had one near miss today. The last thing he needed was for the engineer's visit to end up a real emergency.

Don't turn, don't—

His head whipped around despite all resistance. It had been out of instinct, really, with no malicious intent intended. An innate compulsion to assist, justifying that he would've been more of an asshole if he'd wilfully allowed his boyfriend to skewer himself.

It only occurred just how badly he had fucked up when he saw him. 

The partners froze, eyes locked, and the room around them seemed to vanish. The structural integrity of limbs and furniture was immediately forgotten as Gavin's heart plummeted into his ass. 

Nines looked horrified. His LED flashed like a warning beacon, crimson pulses growing in frequency the more his eyes widened. He stayed that way for a period. Paralysed. Like a startled deer out on a highway, about to be struck by an oncoming vehicle. 

It was nothing like him at all, and Gavin found it deeply unnerving. He then proceeded to make it worse, executing all the same grace of a violent roadside collision. Allowing the first slack-jawed musing that popped into his skull to tumble tactlessly from his lips:

"Oh shit."

The red illuminating Nines' face took on a different meaning in the wake of the outburst. He had broken free of his prey-like stupor and emerged angry—furious. Taking laboured strides toward the bathroom, levelling his partner with an increasingly scornful glare.

"I told you not to look." 

Gavin winced at the accusation dripping from the words, as they were dragged through the snarled curl of the android's mouth. Damage control was needed, but he was unable to engage the appropriate mental factions. 

Instead, he attempted to downplay his previous stunned reaction—gesturing his boyfriend up and down with feigned indifference:

"This is why you've been holding the shitter hostage?" He noted how his arm cast shadows against the sheened wall of plastic, masking his intrigue with a scoff. "Really, that's it?"

Nines jerked back, expression pinched as though he had been struck in the face. "What do you mean, 'that's it'? Gavin, look at me."

"So you're a bit pale. Grey round the gills. You should've seen me this one time at Summer camp." Gavin chuckled preemptively, arms folded across his chest as he attempted to recall the memory. "Man, I'd eaten like seventeen s'mores, and I swear they'd laced the marshmallows with laxatives because, after that, I couldn't��"

He trailed off as the pronounced scowl etched deeper into his partner's face. Informing it wasn't the time for jokes—and that the legendary saga of Preteen Gavin and the Exploding Bowels would have to wait for another day. 

"... Seriously, what did you think I was gonna do?" he challenged, abandoning the playful lilt in favour of something serious. "Freak out and run for the hills because you look like a robot? Because newsflash, genius, I kind of got that. Your skin turns into a goddamn Rorschach every time we do it. Not to mention the static orgasms—" 

Nines raised a hand to stop him, clearly not appreciating the growing vividness of the account. "There was a time when this would have been an issue. Please don't insult me by denying that."

His voice was stern—gravelly with a mixture of frustration and hurt—as his expression hardened further. A feat the detective had thought impossible. 

He bore into him with sharply trained eyes, still the same vibrant grey they'd always been—despite everything else that had changed.  

Remorse struck hard, twisting his gut and nearly knocking him back. Nines was right: not long ago, this would have been a big deal. 

The consequence of a roadblock which spanned the numerous tangled alleys of his mind. Something established by years of resentment, growing uncontrollably over time. Soon, it had become impossible to bypass, not that he'd made much effort to try. Facing the beast, he just knew it was insurmountable.

That was until Nines arrived, rolling up to the rickety wagon he'd parked against the barrier and all but ripping him out. Tugged from his seat by the goddamn ears as he kicked and howled in protest.

"Plastic fucker—"

Of course, it wasn't all that dramatic. It didn't happen immediately, and definitely not in a single pull.

The occurrence had been slow and gradual, with Gavin only starting to scream when he realised what was happening. Because the closer they got—moved from aggrieved associates to unexpected friends—the more he had to challenge everything he understood about being alive. A painful, arduous process that forced him to confront wrongs he didn't even know he'd committed.

The conclusion should have brought relief, but instead, it was hollow. Something was still missing—and it sure as hell shouldn't have been. His entire worldview had been uprooted, enriched, and expanded by Nines' perspective.

What more could he possibly want?

Then came that one night spent together on surveillance. They'd been scoping out some low-life dealer: a notorious scumbag who had been running operations out of the back room of an underground nightclub. It was a particularly seedy establishment, turning out to be more 'brothel' than 'party spot.'

They had been forced to adjust their approach, cosying up to one another in an effort to assimilate with the handsy patrons. Not that Gavin was complaining—which, in itself, brought to light something extremely damning. The emergence of a serious problem, one that threatened to blow up his fragile state of composure with a fucking grenade. 

A particularly enlightening moment occurred—where Nines had him pinned to a wall, held firm by his wrists—when he realised it was too late. The problem was there. Had been for a while. Shaped into the contours of a chiselled jawline and a cool, bright stare he wanted to drown in.

"Keep still, detective. Eyes on me. I believe I have a visual." 

The request had been low, practically purred against his ear. It had sent his heart rate skyrocketing, blood rushing in frantic pumps through the lingering echoes of words still dancing in the canal. 

Oh fuck. 

After that, he couldn't keep convincing himself that he was content with friendship. He wanted more, wanted this, without having to pretend. Desperation drove him to the insane stunt he pulled seconds later. If it failed, he could always claim it was part of their 'performance.'

An excuse that wasn't needed.

Their lips had met, and after a fleeting blip of hesitation, Nines reciprocated. Practically melting into him, abandoning his wrists in order to capture the sides of his face. Like he was holding something valuable— worthy of care and reverence.

They'd lost their visual on the target, as well as any hope of catching up to their boss, but the impromptu trip to a motel had been worth the berating they received from Captain Fowler. 

It couldn't be overstated just how grateful Gavin was that Nines had chosen to give him a chance. To show acceptance despite everything he had put him through. 

Because even if he was better, nothing could change the foundational truths of the man he was. The innumerable faults that would continue to persist despite all best efforts. Recklessness, arrogance, and spite. Baggage that came wheeled on a dolly cart, stacked to the ceiling.

None of it mattered. 

The android took it all—willingly—and without any ultimatum. From the start, the only expectation had been that Gavin would do right by both of them by not fighting the way Nines made him feel.

And nothing had ever made him feel this way. The kind of unconditional devotion and adoration that seemed unique to them, as well as the simple comfort of being together. 

He owed Nines everything. The least he could do was offer some modicum of the same security. Especially now, when he seemed so vulnerable. 

"You know your skin deactivates every time you go into sleep mode, right?" 

The effort backfired horribly. 

If Nines hadn't already seemed willing to take up permanent residence in the bathroom, this declaration came close to cinching it. His eyes widened to near-comedic proportions, looking like they might careen from their sockets. "Excuse me?" 

Gavin, realising that this had decidedly not been the approach to take, acted quickly to rectify the mistake. "I'm kidding; I just thought it might make you feel better."

The android was seldom listening, making clear that the damage was done as he sidled closer to the bathroom. The exposed soles of his feet pressed against the linoleum, and Gavin's body howled, desperate for its overdue reunion with his porcelain throne.

"This is—just—I mean, you look—" 

"I am well aware of what I look like," Nines interjected. His already tense posture had grown increasingly stiff, as though his back was being supported by a cast iron rod, "and just how far this version of me must detract from your preferences."

The words struck hard—much more so than the previous blow. Any ensuing attempts at fumbled retorts were abandoned as he blinked, stunned into silence.

"The issue will be resolved, and once it has, you needn't concern yourself with my default appearance."

Wait. Hold up.

"Now, if you excuse me, I will wait in the bedroom."

Awareness unfolded, leaving him floored—thoroughly astonished at how Nines, the paragon of informed deduction, could have been so cataclysmically wrong when it sought to matter most. To be able to speak so matter-of-factly, with such a candid degree of confidence, about something that couldn't be further from the truth. 

His legs moved before his brain could catch up, placing him decisively into the path between his partner and their bedroom. 

"Don't you dare go storming off like you're some goddamn teenager," he hissed, in full awareness that his standing there wasn't actually stopping anyone. Nines could quite easily pick him up and fling him across the room like a frisbee, although he trusted him not to. 

"What else would you propose I do? Allow you to defecate in our kitchen because I refused to accommodate?" 

"You aren't even giving me time to think." The injustice of the situation was becoming more pronounced, flaring hot in Gavin's ribs. "You're just assuming the worst of me, acting like I'm gonna be a total dick about this." 

This proved enough to pierce through his partner's haze of contention. The sharpness in his eyes faded, giving way to a flicker of regret. His softened gaze then fell to the side, heavy with shame. "...That was not my intent. I'm sorry." 

"It's fine." 

Clearly, it wasn't. The tension between them persisted despite the conclusion to their argument. It was suffocating, and Gavin couldn't help but notice how, despite making no further attempts to physically flee, his partner was still trying to hide. Sinking into himself, hands wrapped in a tense bind across his chest. 

"...Nines." The name was gentle, settled on a pensive purse at the end of his lips. "Let me see you. Please."

The android didn't respond immediately, hesitation evident in every microscopic shift of his frame. Eventually, his arms slackened and fell back, revealing the expanse of exposed white torso. While still unsure of the idea, demonstrated in his continued refusal to look up, it was clear Nines was extending some form of invitation—one that Gavin accepted.

He traced his fingers carefully up the stretch of the android's chest. It was not made of a singular uniform piece as he had previously assumed, but rather, a complex network of small, interwoven panels. Segmented into varied shades of white and grey, connected by subtle welds.

As he delicately tested the marks with the heel of his palm, he noted how remarkably smooth they felt, blending seamlessly with the rest of the body.

Not everything beneath the chassis was covered, with pockets of plastic so thin they were practically translucent. It revealed a dense network of wires—vibrant blues shifting through the synthetic circulatory system, pumped in steady flows of biofluid. 

The liquid originated from the centre of his ribs, beneath a protrusion in the sternum. Something that pressed to the surface—formed in a subtle ring. It pulsed gently, and the longer he looked, the more he was able to detect rhythmic glows of light.  

Gavin whistled low, noting how the pace of the component increased when he placed a hand across it. Blue bled through his fingers, illuminating the veins and tendons beneath his skin. It seemed so calm and balanced compared to the uneven tempo of his own raging pulse. 

"I didn't think you'd be able to see so much…" he mused, voice low with admiration. "It's fucking incredible. You know that, right?" 

"I am a machine," Nines said bitterly—the word of contention spat with disdain, like a curse. "A collection of polymers and circuitry, designed and constructed together to perform a practical function. There is nothing remarkable about it."

"What you just described is a dishwasher. This is not a dishwasher; this is—" He scoffed in self-deprecation, realising just how unequipped he was to describe the gravity of what he was seeing. In the absence of any poise or delicacy, the man opted for honesty. "You're like some crazy modern artwork, a goddamn masterpiece." 

"Stop lying to me."

"I'm not. You'd be able to tell if I was, right?"

Nines had nothing to say to that. His mouth jutted open, a tumultuous train of thought evident in the shifting glow of his LED before it wordlessly snapped shut. 

"Look, even if you weren't objectively the coolest thing I've ever seen in my life, it still wouldn't matter."

The android still refused to look at him, posture locked painfully tight, but as Gavin traced a delicate finger around his regulator access panel, there was a hint of a shudder. Bristling through his shoulders, as the tension held there started to wane.

"I know you don't wanna hear this—because it doesn't fit into your tortured soul narrative—and honestly, there's no way to say without it sounding like something out of a shitty romcom—"

He was stalling for time and not effectively. This sort of sentiment wasn't his strong suit. It didn't come naturally, which Nines was aware of. Still, if there was ever a time to be nauseatingly, cavity-inducingly sweet, this was it:

"Truth is, I love you, and that's got absolutely jack shit to do with what you look like. It's because of what's on the inside, or whatever."

"You love me for my thirium pump regulator?" 

The finger stalled in motion. 

Gavin looked up to discover Nines was facing him, a mischievous grin tugging his lips. He glowered despondently and made a hasty attempt to retract his arm. "Shut up, you know what I meant."

The limb didn't get far, as Nines captured it by the wrist, keeping it anchored to his chest. "I did," he assured, caressing the skin, marking trails of bone and ligament with the end of his thumb. 

Until the languid motions slowed as synthetic muscles seized. An aftershock of the previous state of anxiety. It was such a minor slip in control that anyone else would have unlikely noticed. Gavin knew better—keenly able to detect the change. 

"This really doesn't bother you?", the android asked, accentuating the question with increased pressure against his carpus. 

"Does it bother you that I have a mole on my chest the size of a quarter? Or that you can do a dot-to-dot with my stab wounds?"

"Of course not. Why would that matter?" 

"Exactly." The man huffed, punctuating the point with an affectionate prod to the android's temple. "Come on, you're the one with the supercomputer brain; just think about it for a second."

Whatever equanimity his partner was still clinging to unravelled in an instant. He looked genuinely overwhelmed, struck by a tidal wave of emotion which he could barely seek to contain. The breaks showed fast, leaking through in small hitches of crackling breath. 

"Gavin, I—" He stopped as though desperately seeking to regain some degree of composure. "You have no idea how much this means to me."

"Don't be a moron." He ushered him forward, capturing the hand still wrapped around his wrist. "Come here." 

The android did not resist the embrace, sinking into it, as he enclosed the man with powerful limbs. Cradling the back of his head, digits toying with tousled brown strands.

"Sap," Gavin teased, although he revelled in their proximity just as much. Indulging greedily as he peppered kisses across a tempting expanse of shoulder. "You don't need to hide yourself from me. Ever. I'm here for you—and nothing else."

The charged sounds grew louder, like the rumble of a car engine, sending vibrations through Nines' throat. This was before he cupped his partner's chin and allowed the sound to escape through tightly pressed lips. 

He moved with the sort of fervent passion that might suggest he was scared Gavin would disappear—but really, spoke more to the gratitude of knowing he wouldn't. It was only as he had fully breached the cavern of his mouth, and their hips were beginning to rock in sequence that the android finally pulled away. 

Gavin was left mesmerised—and a little dazed—by the unexpected boldness. It didn't matter how often Nines did this or what other shows of licentious spontaneity happened to follow; he couldn't foresee a time when it wouldn't knock him off his feet. 

How was he supposed to ground himself when he was perpetually flung into Cloud Nine, reminded of just how lucky he was? 

"...Besides." He chuckled richly, the sound rolling into the part of tenuously divided lips. "Bald really isn't a bad look on you. It's kind of hot." 

The man could practically hear the tight flourish of his partner's eyes before he graciously conceded to the attempt at flirting. "Oh, really? Is that so?"  

With a hum of affirmation, Gavin leaned down, forming a seal on the junction between the android's shoulder and neck. "You ever wanna…you know…with the dome out. I'm game."

"Perhaps another time." Nines then returned a hand to the back of his scalp. Burrowing into the hair before resting a cheek softly against his temple. "Right now, I would like it if we could stay like this."

Gavin dutifully complied, removing his lips in favour of nestling against the collarbone. He savoured the gentle rush of warmth that radiated beneath the chassis. It felt like home, and his eyes slid closed, entirely at peace.

"Yeah, that sounds good to me." 

[mspaint-flower]

hi everyone!! you know the drill already, requests are open again!! i still have around 25 that i saved up but in case i didn't do yours you can resend it! (though there might be several reasons as to why i didn't ;;)

also make sure to check my pinned post for guidelines and whatnot ;w;

[thedelicatearcher]

finnick odair hcs for reader who loves animals?

finnick odair x reader who loves animals

the first thing to know about finnick is that he never had a pet in his life, not even a puppy when he was a little boy or a fish (since he spent most of his time fishing, he wouldn't have felt comfortable pulling some out of the water while taking care of one at home). finnick never disliked animals, he just wasn't familiar with them.

so, when you came into his life, you turned it upside down. with a house full of loving animals and a mind filled with animal fun facts, you made your way into his sensitive heart and his previously lonely home.

he loves when you tell him everything you know about sea animals. he discovered that turtles are his favorite; so at night, when both of you can't sleep and are just holding each other, staring lovingly and talking nonstop about nothing and everything, you tell him how sea turtles have outlived dinosaurs, how female turtles never forget their home beach, and how they are immune to the sting of most jellyfish.

finnick never knew that cats could be such little devils. he really struggled at first because your mischievous orange cat loved knocking stuff off the table, welcomed him home with scratches, and ran around the house every night until exhaustion got to him, driving a restless finnick nearly to madness. despite their bickering, you know they love each other unconditionally. every time you return from the market, you find them snuggling and napping together; finnick snoring softly while lying down on the couch on his back, and your little guy comfortably situated on finnick's chest, purring his heart out.

when you adopted a guinea pig, finnick insisted on being the one who named him. many names were vetoed, from mags II to robert. “finn, it sounds like he is a working man with a briefcase,” you told him, laughing at his idea. “his close friends could call him bob!!,” he insisted, invested in the idea. in the end, you agreed on naming him triton. “a big name for a big man,” finn said dramatically as he held the little animal in his big hand

bathing your dog was a chaotic experience. persuading your pet wasn't easy, as she knew what treats-leading-to-the-bathroom meant. many attempts later, you resigned and finnick had to carry her into the tub. finnick was assigned the important duty of holding her while you gently wet her with a bucket and applied the shampoo, getting as wet and soapy as your pet. then, without any warning, she started shaking off, splashing water and soap all over you and the bathroom. all soaked and laughing your asses off, your puppy took the opportunity to escape while you were distracted. now, you have soaking clothes, a messy bathroom, and a soapy dog hiding in the kitchen corner.

now a proclaimed animal lover, finnick loves wearing his starfish shirt, owns several colorful crocodile slippers, goes outside with the sole intention of observing the animals passing by, insists on celebrating every one of your pet’s birthdays, and every now and then surprises you with an animal fact you’ve never heard before.