#sorry john

[etherealizzie]

price who doesn't really know how to apologize for anything because.. he's always been in charge and for fuck's sake, he's never had a reason to apologize.

not when his first wife left him, not when his team had to dump johnny's ashes down that cliff, and not even when he botched missions. price never thought anything was his fault.

when everyone yelled at him or when anyone got upset, it didn't really fucking matter. they were wrong anyways.

price never apologized.

not until you.

no, the first time price had ever tried apologizing was taking you for granted. the word 'sorry' never crossed his mind until he saw you, his current partner of 3 years, standing at the foot of your shared bed.

with somebody else under him.

price's hands were on another person's body and he knew what guilt felt like but.. it never consumed him like it did now. seeing you processing the sight, your hands shaking, your heart practically shattering.

the captain felt his affair partner squirm under him. he felt himself open his mouth.

'sorry, john, say you're fucking sorry.' is all that price could think. it was the first time he had wanted to say sorry because fuck, he had a reason to apologize now.

instead, john did what he did best.

he watched as you closed the door, hearing your footsteps, the sobs of you, the whines of his affair partner underneath him and the slamming of a door.

that was the first and last time price would try apologizing.

not like he deserved the forgiveness for this time. or any other day before that.

[captainpriceslilwife]

what is this. idk. horny nikolai to break my silence.

cw: uh....icky nikolai, intox, ddlg but i didn't do it on purpose (nikolai gave me a curse and now i have to write like this about him), babyfying??? infantalizing????....dubcon (from the intox, but nothing really happens...no peepee in vageen) but maybe hints of somnophilia towards the end

Nikolai who makes you sweet, fruity little cocktails at his place just to get you tipsy enough to try sipping on his glass of whiskey that's probably older than you are (and more expensive than you'd ever imagine)

Tips his glass slowly into your mouth as you sit perched on his thigh, only to laugh at you when your face scrunches up the moment the potent flavor hits your tongue.

"Mm, not as big as you think you are, eh?" He chuckles warmly as you cough and sputter, eyes growing red and glassy as you choke on the burn of it. "You are just like baby, hm? I have to mix it with juice for you to like it. Tsk. You have to be a big girl now, milaya...come, one more sip."

He shushes your feeble protests with a gentle pinch to your thigh, so you don't put up much of a fight when he's slowly forcing the rim of the glass further into your mouth to get you to take another mouthful.

"In, in, in...there we go." You aren't sure if the heat on your cheeks is coming from the alcohol or his condescending tone as you try your best to swallow it all down without making a face, but either way, you can feel your panties growing wetter by the second.

"Should put it in a little bottle for you....make it easier for my little baby."

He always does this to you - gets you drunk and worked up, only to tell you that he won't take advantage of you in a state like this - even though he just keeps teasing you!

You swear there's a glimmer in his eyes every time you keen and try to rub yourself against him, but he never actually gives in. He just gets off on turning you into a whiny mess - something desperate for him, and only him.

And this time is no different.

You'd begged him so sweetly to suck his cock - shimmying yourself down to kneel between his legs and mouth at him through his jeans - only for him to just stick his big fingers in your mouth and tell you to stay there.

"Too little for that, milaya." He coos softly at you, working the tips of his fingers back, back, back into your throat until you gag around him. "Can't even suck on my fingers, can you? Maybe you should stick to your little thumb, baby."

You whine in protest, suckling his fingers with renewed vigour to show him that you are not a baby. You don't even suck on your thumbs! He was just being mean...making you gag on purpose.

But he still doesn't give in. You manage to pull a deep groan from within him when your glossy lips hit the base of his fingers, but when you're finally able to blink your teary eyes up at him, all you see is the expression of a man who seems only mildly amused.

"Putting on a show for your papa?"

Your tongue pauses in its relentless sucking, and you pop your mouth off of his fingers to pout up at him, only for him to laugh at you once more.

"Oh, poor baby..." His mocking croons only serve to make you more desperate. Your cheek rests against his thigh as he begins to stroke his fingers through your hair, not caring about the fact that he's smearing your own spit on you in the process. "You are being bratty because it is past your bedtime, no?"

"I'm not a baby! C'mon, just please, let me-" You try one more time to unzip his pants, but he's already grabbing your hand and pulling it up to press a soft kiss to it.

"Papa already said no, baby." Your soft whine only makes him chuckle more fondly as he urges you to come back up to curl up on his lap. "Come on, baby...where's my good little girl who always listens to her papa?"

If he notices the pretty pout adorning your features as you bury your face into his neck, he doesn't say anything. He just brings one of his big paws up to run down the trail of your spine, teasing slightly at the hem of your lace panties before tracing his hand back up along his path.

You let out a soft whimper, dragging your hips along his thigh to relieve yourself of the pressure he's building inside of you, but you make no move to brush against his cock again. You just keep lazily rutting your hips against him as you grow sleepier and sleepier, eyelids drooping slowly to make your lashes flutter against his neck.

Eventually your hips come to a stop, and Nik has to hold back a smile when he feels your soft puffs of breath slowly grow deeper, turning into soft little snores that make his chest warm.

You really were just a baby up past her bedtime.

"There she is." His lips press a soft kiss to your temple as you drift off into sleep. And maybe if you were just a little bit more awake, you'd be able to feel his hand sneaking past the hem of your panties to rub little circles against your slippery clit. "There's my good girl."

[m1ssunderstanding]

Got these weeks apart from my art dealer @gobnaits and I had to put them together here.

[scrapyardboyfriends]

The first time Robert, Aaron and John were in the pub together vs the last time all three were in the pub together.

[tsp-k]

I love Garfield so much, you can't imagine how much....

tg:@tsp_k

[starkovzova]

day nine: sunflower

for @kingdonmicrofic | rated: t | word count: 289 | ao3 (implied cheating)

They sit on her windowsill for a week. 

Yellow, pretty, she supposes, to someone that wasn’t her. Becca had asked where they’d come from and all she could manage was ‘a friend from work’. 

It’s not really what they were, there had been… dates. She’s not sure if that’s what she’d really call them—a bite grabbed after a shift, a walk around the park by her apartment, the one, quiet time they sat next to each other at the movies and barely exchanged three sentences. 

He sees them midweek, starting to wilt due to the unchanged water, plucks the card that was left in the vase purposefully with a small knowing hum that follows her all the way into her bedroom. 

She’s sore the next day at work, blissfully. When Trinity comments about the love bite on her neck she doesn’t even flinch but John does. No more dates then… what a shame. 

After she throws away the flowers, a new bouquet arrives, held this time, with a teasing smile. 

“What are you doing here?” 

“I wanted to see you,” Frank replies. He had just seen her, the ache was still there, never left. “Can I come in?” 

Please don’t. 

Please do. 

“Where does your wife think you are right now?” 

He tilts his head, all-knowing. 

“Does it matter?” 

Mel takes the bushel of daisies from him, the very same that line the flowerbeds in front of the house he shares with his family. The first time she had gone over there, months prior, laid out in their bed, she had mentioned they were her favorite. 

When he leaves hours later, she places the flowers in a new vase, fresh water, tended to. 

She had always hated sunflowers anyway. 

[tj-teejay]

Choose your winners in this year’s National Television Awards

Dept. Q nominated for NTA Awards

Dept. Q, Matthew Goode and Chloe Pirrie are nominated for the National Television Awards in several categories, and viewers can cast their votes now.

[meow-meow1322]

See now if they won’t tell us what happened in scotland then i’m coming up with something myself. john says that fran and michaela “kept their distance”. the more logical explanation is that fan caught her with a woman and it freaked her out. but my theory is that our dear michaela had gotten into an affair with someone’s wife (gasp) and that someone’s husband had confronted michaela that led to a fight and allat and that’s the reason for all this “chaos” that fran keeps talking about. this moving around. the lesbian ghosting. but no clue really.