#political animals oneshot

[enniewritesathing]

[Previous⏮] [Beginning ⏯]

(Who knew cows were so chatty and full of gossip? An affair? Goodness. All in all, Ms. Guinness produced seven bottles of milk, surprising both Rahmi and Thomas. “She’s never done that before! Usually it’s just two!”

Huh, maybe there’s something to what Kim said.

With his tasks done and nothing else popping up, he returns to the grocer, beaming with pride. “Done!”

Kim: “Thank you so much for your help, John. I’m caught up with everything else I needed to do today. Here-- meat cubes and a few extra things for your trip back.”

--

(John chews on the meat cube thoughtfully. Brian looks over at him when he frowns.)

Brian: “What’s wrong? Too tough?”

John: “No... too salty.”

[Next ⏭]

[ohdeerfully]

Headcanons! Alastor with a plush demon reader :3 like readers sinner form is a plush! Because I love height differences and it sounds real cute

-🃏🐱

hi 🃏🐱!! i wrote this more platonically, so it could be read either way, but i might write a more romantic flavored one too :3! sorry its rather short, i hope you enjoy it anyway!

edit: after rereading the request i realized u asked for headcanons but i wrote a whole oneshot im </3 *knocks on my head and it sounds hollow*

Alastor x Plushie!Reader

PLATONIC fluff TW: none! readers kind of a weirdo by accident

join my discord!

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It was no surprise that you became popular in hell very quickly after manifesting. You were often stopped in the streets by people wanting to squish your soft skin, and some people wanting selfies.

I mean, who wouldn’t fall in love with a living stuffed animal? You were very likely the first of the kind.

There was one demon, however, that seemed immune to the charm. No matter how many times you stood on his lap, your giant squishy paws pressed onto his chest, looking at him with your shiny button eyes… he just would not yield. And it frustrated you to no end.

So, you had made it your life—or, death—goal to get him to squish your plushy skin. Even if you had to force him to.

It started with you merely sitting next to him at every opportunity, swinging your legs against the cushion of the couch. Your legs barely reached over the edge; you were quite short. Sitting next to Alastor felt like sitting next to a skyscraper. 

You would lay down, sit up again, roll onto your back, over and over again, trying to get his attention on you. He wouldn’t ignore you, per say, as he would respond to your conversations politely, albeit a bit condescending in his typical manner; but, his hands never left the comfort of being folded neatly in his lap.

It got to the point where you were practically laying yourself on top of him, getting desperate now. But, every time, he would simply grab you under the arms and easily set you a foot or so away from him. He would give you a quick pat on the head, but you wanted more than that. Every pat on the head felt like a cruel reminder that he wanted nothing to do with you.

Your frustration has even caused you to get upset with Niffty a few times. While on one hand it was awesome to know another demon that was of similar height, on the other hand it pissed you off at how easily she seemed to grab his attention. Though, she was also just overall more insane—it’d be hard for anybody to ignore her.

You had to admit, though, that the lack of his attention only made your intrigue in him grow exponentially. In a Hell where you were stopped on every corner of the road, in every store, Alastor stood out to you. How come, of all the demons out there, even some of the cruelest in the Pride Ring, the one demon you were actually interested in… could care less about you? Sure, the only reason you were interested in him was because of this very fact, but still! Why?

You had gotten fed up. Alastor was in the midst of, again, picking you up off of himself, when he paused holding you midair at the look of fury on your face. You saw his grin widen in a sinister manner, and his eyebrows quirk quizzically. 

“What a huge expression for a face so little,” He laughed shortly. You hated the way his laughter crackled with radio static, and how it practically mocked you.

“You. Are such. A jerk!” You cried, swinging your legs in an attempt to kick his chest. You missed by a longshot, as he held you out as far as his arms could stretch. He only continued to watch you, amused.

“Just pet me!” You cried. You immediately halted after saying that, arms frozen mid-flail. You realized instantly how weird that was to say, especially to Alastor. And he knew, too, evident in the way his eyes narrowed at you and he rushed to place you down on the floor. You struggled to maintain eye contact when he stood back up, his height being the actual physical manifestation of impending doom. His hands brushed down the sides of his coat.

“I believe it makes sense for you to be a stuffed animal,” He said matter-of-factly. “Because of how utterly childish you are.”

You couldn’t help but stomp your foot at his statement; and his grin stretched at being proved right. But, like, come on! Yeah, what you said was kind of weird as fuck, but you weren’t in the wrong or anything! It’s only natural.

His gaze shifted up and ahead of himself, and your shoulders slumped in defeat. Another failed attempt.

That was, until you felt a clawed finger touch against your head and briefly scratch at your velvety skin, right behind your ear. You looked up, shocked, towards Alastor’s unreadable expression. The touch was very brief, and he stood and walked away without another word, leaving you standing there awestruck.

You shook yourself and bounced after him, trying to call his attention again but he ignored you. You opted to just follow him around for a bit, at least until he made it obvious you should leave him alone. He had his hands folded behind his back, a tune humming in his mouth as he walked down the halls. Alastor would never admit it to you, but he did find you rather cute, in a similarly chaotic way to Niffty. You weren’t quite as unhinged, but you had an entertaining amount of spunk and confidence, which he found sort of funny—so much personality squished into one tiny body. You sort of reminded him of a stuffed animal he had when he was a boy.

[jaywonjuice]

📄🖇️— him meeting your family ~ p.js

pairing bf!jay x gn reader

genre fluff, oneshot

request: “hii! i was wondering if i could request a drabble/scenario for jay pls? :) i’m a sucker for fluff so maybe something like taking him to meet your family for the first time at a family reunion? and then he’s getting along so well with the baby cousins and the family loves him :’) i’m in my jay era rn and this scenario would make my whole week! no rush tho!! i love your works so far btw, and i can’t wait to follow you on this journey of growing your library! <3 xx”

warnings sfw intimacy, kissing

wc 655

‘aren’t i the one who’s supposed to be feeling nervous about this?’ said jay with a wry smile, keeping his eyes fixed on the road ahead. you glanced over at him, taking in his calm expression and marvelling at his ability to remain so composed given the circumstances. you, on the other hand, couldn’t help yourself from fidgeting restlessly in the passenger seat. jay placed a hand on your knee gently to still it.

‘love, it’s going to be fine, i promise,’ he shot you a reassuring smile, which you attempted to return weakly. ‘mums always love me anyway,’ he added with a wink, hoping to get you to laugh, but right now you were too preoccupied to play along.

‘yeah, it’s just…’ you chewed at your thumbnail, staring out the window. ‘i don’t know. i’ve never brought a boyfriend back home before. like, ever. and the whole family is going to be there.’ you sighed, slumping against the headrest.

jay smiled. ‘try not to worry. i promise it’s going to be fine. i for one am looking forward to meeting your folks.’ he reached for your hand and gave it a small squeeze.

.❦.

once you arrived at your parents’ place, you weren’t even sure what you had been worrying about the whole time. as expected, jay had been a gentleman from the moment he stepped through the door, shaking your father’s hand, and greeting your mother politely before passing her the bottle of wine he’d brought up with him. he had charmed every last one of your aunts, who looked on impressed as he helped to lay the table and plate up lunch. your teenage cousins had giggled and whispered to each other behind their hands, eyes darting over at him all throughout the meal.

after he’d finished helping clear up all the dishes, he finally came to join you in the family room. it took all of thirty seconds for him to spot the cabinet of baby pictures and trinkets that sat on the mantelpiece, and he approached eagerly to watch you grow up through photographs.

‘this one was when we visited the states - lord, going on twelve years ago now,’ your dad passed a small wooden picture frame over to jay. ‘wasn’t (s)he cute, eh?’

jay nodded, smiling. ‘very,’

later in the evening, you’d watched from the sofa as he sat on the rug with your little cousin, who was enthusiastically presenting jay with all of her new toys. he received each one with interest, his face animated, eyes widening and giving little gasps as she explained them all to him in great detail. the way he smiled sweetly down at her made your heart ache just a little. when she had finally shown jay every last little stuffed animal, she turned to him, all of a sudden looking very serious.

‘are you and y/n in love??’ she demanded abruptly.

jay gave a little laugh, tousling her hair affectionately. then he looked up at you, softly. ‘yeah. we are,’ he replied.

.❦.

it felt oddly comforting to be back in your childhood bedroom again with jay by your side, the glow-in-the-dark stars on your ceiling providing a small fluorescent glow in the otherwise complete darkness. you rested your head again his chest and sighed deeply. the long day of travelling and socialising had taken it out of you both completely; you were exhausted.

‘your family are nice,’ jay mumbled after a while.

‘yeah,’ you said quietly. ‘they think you’re nice,’ you added. ‘i think you’re nice,’ you told him on top of that, wrapping your arms around his waist snugly and hugging him to you.

‘is that so?’ you could hear the smile in his voice.

‘yeah,’ you nuzzled into his chest. ‘the nicest.’

.❦.

the following morning, the two of you stood by the front door saying your goodbyes to your parents. as jay hugged your mother farewell, your dad gave you a kiss on the cheek, before nodding over at jay. ‘he’s a keeper, this one,’ he winked.

jay held your hand all the way from the door to the car, where he opened up the passenger side for you, but before you could get in, he pulled you close to him suddenly, catching you so off guard that you blushed furiously.

‘i love you,’ he said quietly, his nose brushing your own. you moved to say it back, but his lips were pressed to yours before you’d even got the chance.

a/n literally what a dream request ty anon !! i could go on abt domestic jay all day every day forever until my lungs give out he’s so husband bye ㅠㅠ

TAGLIST ೃ⁀➷ @thejakeslayla @shawnyle

©jaywonjuice | do not copy or re-upload my work on any platform

[phantom-sleuth]

Wanted to make a rec post about a bunch of random sci-fi manga i like and hope that others enjoy as well.

Dead Dead Demons Dededede Destruction:

A story about 2 young women in their day to day lives as a giant alien ship looms over Tokyo. A fair bit of the story focuses modern social political issues in Japan and the mystery surrounding the mothership and the aliens and why they are there.

The series will get two movie adaptations later this year.

Dai Dark:

The story mainly revolves zaha sanko and how a legend exist that if one gets ahold of his bones they will have any wish granted to them, and so sanko needs to search through space in order to find whoever put this curse on him and kill them. The manga is made by Q Hayashida and features a very gritty world with very goofy and fun characters.

Battle Angel Alita/Gunnm:

A story mostly about a cyborg with a sense for battle wanting to fin her origins after crashing on earth. The series has 3 entries so far with the third being on hiatus sadly, the 3 series being Alita battle angel, baa last order and baa mars chronicle. However the series has excellent art a very good story and great action.

It currently has a 1993 anime and a live action movie

20th Century Boys

The story revolves around a group of adults who in their youth created a symbol to represent their friendship which is then used by some malevolent character called friend in the future for his own cult and his goal to take over the world. With most of the story being about trying to recall who he may be and how to stop his plot. Its a VERY story and dialogue heavy series, but its all worth it once everything starts clicking.

it has a short sequel series that contains the ending of the actual series called "21st century boys"

Pluto

Made by the same person as 20th century boys Naoki urasawa, its an adaptation of "the greatest robot on earth" story with its own unique spin. Its about the ongoing murders of the seven most powerful robots on earth. It deals in a lot of stuff about the sentience of the robots and their rights.

It currently has a full anime adaptation on netflix.

Planetes

A lot of the story mainly focuses on the struggles and relationships of the main characters with space mainly being a backdrop. Its a very interpersonal story and i can't really do it justice by just describing it so i recommend reding or watching it yourself.

It also has a full anime adaptation.

10,000 light year binoculars

This one is just a oneshot but i enjoyed it so much that i really had to rec it. Its about an alien girl with binoculars that allow her to spy on a boy on earth from her own planet and wanting to meet him someday. The entire oneshot is in color, the art is great AND its short.

Star tripper: Planetarium Ghost Travel

A very comfy manga that only recently stared to get fantranslated. Its about a guy called 303 going to "ghost planets where most of the inhabitants have gone into a deep sleep and turned into trees.

Heavenly Delusion/Tengoku Daimakyou

And finally Heavenly, it has two concurrent plotlines with the first one being about a boy and a girl going through a post apocalyptic Japan looking for "new heaven", while the second is about a group a kids in a sterile facility wanting to go explore outside the walls of said facility.

It has an anime that covers the first 5 volumes.

And those are all my sci-fi recs for the moment!!! Hope someone finds something new to enjoy of these here. apologies if the writing ain't the best i wrote this at like 3 am.

[fertilize-my-eggs]

“ why can't I get a girlfriend huh?? ”creepy incel shigaraki x fem chubby reader noncon smut

A/N: hello!! This modern quirkless au oneshot, I don't have any plans for this one sorry. This is more of fanon unhinged feral shigaraki and extremely delusional asf in this. If I miss any tagged let me know and I'm sorry if it isn't proofread!! ( There the full story in A03 )

“ why can't I get a girlfriend huh?? ” 

It's echoing in your mind as he holds your neck tightly with his slim fingers, how did you get here? 

Well you were having a terrible day, seeing this strange blue haired man everywhere you go.

At first you just saw him as a regular customer while you were working at a game store, he happened to appear out of nowhere in the middle of the night.

He taps on your shoulder as he gives you an unnerving nausea, you try your best to be polite.

“ What can I help you s-sir? ” this man didn't know any personal space as he leaned in and said.

“ Any options on this game? ” He rasfully spoke as he tapped on a cover that looked like an RPG with cute anime girls on it.

You were clueless when it comes to games, you look into his blood red eyes.

“ uhh… it's a great game, with a strong main character with a love stor- ” he rolled his eyes as he huffed in annoyance.

“ ughhh does it have sex scene in it?? ” you blink at him a few times.

“ Excuse me? ” There was long awkward silence as you felt a chill run down your spine as you tried your best not to judge a customer too fast.

“ well I've never played it but- ”

“ but? How the hell did you get this job in the first place if you don't know any game… npc females.. ” he whispers the last part quietly but you hear it loud and clear as you cleanse your throat.

“ I'm sorry sir. ” he ignored you completely as he put the game back on the shelf as he collected the games he was interested in. You rushed to the register as he put the games on the countertop.

You felt unsafe by this one customer but it's your night shift and it was your closing time. 

All you have to do is scan the products and send him on his way home, you grab one game at a time as you scan it. Maybe he was just grumpy and had a sour mood today or…

You flinched as his fingers resting on your hand as he said.

“... you.. are very beautiful.” you quickly removed your hand as you put a fake smile on.

“ Thank you… sir. ” he was giving you the ick and he didn't like how you reacted from his touch.

“ your cost is $67.45, would you like a bag sir? ” he nods his head as he remains quiet, watching you put the games into the plastic.

He grabs the bags as he walks to the door to leave, you thought you'd never see him again but boy are you wrong.

You started to feel a pair of eyes staring behind your back whenever you went to your job, you spotted him in a public area. At first you thought you'd had hallucinations seeing him and his long blue locks hidden in his hood, all black clothing as he disappeared into the crowd of people.

You noticed little things disappearing as well, you couldn't find your dirty panties. You were quite messy by leaving your clothes around the house, you were able to find them sooner… but it never comes back, your pillow cover has a questionable sticky texture and it smells horrendous!

It's been a couple of days, you decided to report it to the cops about your stalker but they simply told you that they'll take action if he does something… meaning they weren't gonna help you out and you were helpless.

You were woken up by him in your pitch black room, his hands at your throat not too harsh but it was firm.

You couldn't speak as you begin to tear up.

“ hello.. y/n. Aren't you glad to see me? "You could see his sharp eyes staring at you as he began to speak.

“ I don't understand…” he tilted his head as he loses it a bit so you could breathe a little.

“ I try to be nice.. but every female always rejects me, they always want a male that treats them like trash.”

“ They call me ugly weirdo… a freak of nature.” his fingers lightly rubbed your skin.

“ I’m a nice guy I-...” he leans in so close that your noses are touching.

“ I don't understand… ”

“ Why can't I get a girlfriend huh?? ” he raised his voice. It's echoing in your mind as he holds your neck tightly with his slim fingers.

“ I'll treat you right, give you everything baby. ” he slowly licks your cheek.

“ I'll let no npc hurt you…I'll murder them just for you ~. ” this man is a psychopath, you need to escape but somehow he reads your mind as he begins to chuckle.

“ trying to leave? You're not in your own room darling.. you're tied up in my room, I'm surprised you didn't wake up. You're a heavy sleeper hahaha ~ ” you blink a few times to process what he said as he removes his hands.

“ What the hell are you talking about?!? Are you insane??? ” you begin to sob out, taking the air in as he flickers the light. He was right it wasn't your room, it was far different from yours as you noticed familiar underwears on the floor.

“ I grew tired of jacking off to your filthy panties so I want the real thing.. "You were yank harshly as he spread your thighs wide.

“ Stop!! release me plea- ” you cry out, feeling his rough lips on your sensitive area, you start to squirm fast as he surp you like it was his last meal. It was so sloppy and  inexperienced, this man didn't know how to please a woman.

You yelp as your eyes look down at him, he rubs your skin softly as he growls.

“ stop moving like that unless you want harsh punishment? ” You were unable to speak due to how terrifying this situation is and you don't want him upset, who knows how he will act.

You shake your head but he slaps your thighs hard as you sob out.

“ I need words. "You look away as you look back to his vermilion eyes.

“ no.. ” he wasn't having it but you could see the faint smirk on his lips, he clearly enjoys this.

Sicko… 

“ you're my little plaything.. my player two mhmm~ ” you arch your back up feeling his hot mouth on your pussy, you made a high pitch moan as he slid his digits into your hole.

“ ohh god~!! ” his hungry lustful eyes stare at you.

Tongue flick your clit in harsh circles, his fingers crossed, push up your wall to find it..

Your eyes blink the tears away, you can't let this man have his satisfaction so you bite your lips and look away.

His hand landing on your thighs again as you scream in pain.

“ Keep staring at me… you really want me to punish you so bad hehe~.. ” your eyes wide in fear.

“ no!! Please don't. ” You begged him but he chuckled and went back to eating you out.

His arm wrapped around your thighs as he used his thumb on your clit, rubbing it fast and hard circles.

You couldn't wait any longer as your unwanted orgasm hit you fast, your eyes rolled back and your toe curled in.

“ shit… ahh fuck.. ” you pant heavily, feeling the bed move by him humping the sheets. You can hear his pathetic whimpers and groans as he swallows all your juices.

It's felt like hours as you're crying hard from the overstimulating, he continues to eat you out and bring out three orgasms.

“ please… no more. "You pant heavily, he gives a few sloppy kisses to your clit then finally move away.

“ We're just getting started with this gameplay~ you need to be trained to take this cock hehehe~ ” he purrs sweetly, seeing his face covered in your cum.

“ Please let me go, I don't want this... ” he rolled his eyes at you and he begins to mock your voice.

“ I don't want this, I wanna go home!! You're NOT leaving coz you're mine~!!! Your home is here with me. Don't you understand that!! ”

He grabs your neck firmly as he leans in.

“ I'm your boyfriend… shigaraki tomura~ ” you blink at him, you think you hear his name on the news being a japan world wanted criminal what the hell is he doing here in this country??

He has no patience as he grabs his thick long cock to your entrance as he begins to slide in, you scream at him to stop.

“ stop!!! it's fucking hurt! Please-. ” he covered your mouth fast.

“ God you're such a brat-... don't know how to shut up… mhmm but you feel so good and tight aughh~ ” he pushed more of it, pulling out slowly as he looked down.

“ oh… I see why it was hurting, you're losing your virginity.. ahh it's okay baby~ we are losing it together.” the blood covers his whole length as you closed your eyes tight, your mouth was open letting out a silent scream.

He caresses your cheek tenderly.

“ soon I'll destroy your mindset, you're become my wife… fuck~ ! ” His body language changes as he thrusts faster and harder into you.

“ Soon you'll carry my children.. ahhh  shit can't wait until you produce milk.. ” he leans in to bite your nipples, sucking it gently as he humping your body. Your mind went blank and a sobbing mess from the unwanted pleasure.

He harshly pushes your thighs to your head as he moves at fast paced.

“ I can't wait to see you nice and round of our baby ~. ” he kisses your breasts softly.

“ we got plenty of time to breed your insides~ aughh fuck~!! Want to make you a perfect mommy.. ” he whimpers out, his cock sliding in and out of your slippery cunt.

He covered your mouth as he smirk wide.

“ I'll fuck a baby into you in many rounds until you're full with my cum. ” he sigh heavy, your shaky eyes couldn't see him properly as you feel your head getting a headache and see blackness around.

“ Are you ready player two? Ready for our new save? A new life together you and I~ ” you felt heat in your core as he made a high pitch groan releasing his white thick cum hitting your wall, you felt it filling fast as you cried out and he removed his hand to passionately make out with you.

The cries were muffled as he bit your bottom lip, pulling it away as he rode his high. He called out your name and his dick twitched excitedly as he pants.

He kisses your face sweetly.“ I love you.. I love you Y/n you'll never leave… and if you do. ” you knew he was just manipulating you, his whole act seem so fake as his eyes have a shine in them.

“ you'll get a severe punishment if you do~ ” his thumb rubs your lips softly.

“ you're mine… you're my beautiful wife.. ” he looked down to rub your belly tenderly.

“ our beautiful baby as well~.. ”

“ you're insane.. ” he looked into your eyes and coo sweetly.

“ insane? No no no baby.” he pulled your face close.

“ I'm only insane for you.. my love for you is passion and if anyone touches what is mine. ” he grabs your neck softly.

“ they will die..” he begins to move his hips as you begin to cry.

“ You belong to me~.. ”

[wonjns]

pipes ♭

pairing; wen junhui x male reader

genre; smut

summary; you expected your day to get worse after finding your clogged and leaky sink,,, what you didn't expect was your day getting a million times better by doing something about it... or, having someone else do something bout it.

includes; bottom!reader, plumber!jun, grinding, man handling, muscle kink, implied blowjob, unprotected sex (dont irl!!)

wc; 3.5k

notes; requested by anon ✓ "Can I request a Junhui oneshot (smut)? Where the reader have a clug on his sink and he called a plumber which is Jun who was looking hot that the reader attempt to wear a very short clothes to catch Jun's attention." // WHEHEH jun is so hot hdhgsghs i feel bad taking FOREVERRR to write this but i sure did enjoy it, even though im 80% sure this is trashhh.... BUT i love writing for svt !!!

you sighed, looking down at your kitchen sink, the 99th problem you've had today.

this was absolutely the last thing you needed. school was a mess, your part-time job was a hot mess, and your recent breakup was an absolute travesty - to put it in simple terms.

amidst your currently stressful and hectic day to day life, you were at least grateful you had the comfort of your own little adorable, freshly rented apartment. it was the only thing you were in complete control of - the designs, the furniture, the decor, how much art you hung, how many plushies you owned; it was like your own little realm, your safe haven.

so, now that your safe haven had internal leaking and busted pipes, you might actually pull your hair out.

you face palmed yourself, and after 30 minutes of whining in isolation, you managed to call a plumbing service. it would probably cost a fortune, but it wasn’t like this was something you could just avoid. you had never called a plumber on your own before, so all you could do was pray it was worth it and that it wasn’t some scam despite all the skepticism that lied in the forefront of your mind.

you could see the whole scene play out now - some hefty man who would probably smell like fresh manure and saggy pants would roll up to your apartment, track mud inside through some gigantic sloppy boots, break apart your sink, and then charge you nearly a thousand dollars for a $100 job.

well, it seemed you learned nothing in grade school about judging stereotypes, because when you heard a soft ding dong, you would’ve never expected the sight before you.

standing beyond your door frame was a tall, slightly tanned man with what had to be the most attractive eyes you’d ever seen. he sported a clean dyed blonde undercut, with dangerously sexy darker roots. his facial features were small and his shoulders were wide,,, really wide. his one piece denim jumpsuit flaunted his legs, the longest ones you’ve seen in a hot minute.

he looked around your age, much younger than expected for a plumber, and as your eyes raked over his body, his proportions seemed a little too unreal. and even though his frame was clothed, you couldn’t help but notice how muscular his thighs-

ㅤ

focus.

ㅤ

“hello, sir.” he spoke politely but nonchalantly, a lollipop loosely hanging from his lips.

his greeting fell upon deaf ears, as you just stood there gawking for a moment.

he must’ve seen you staring and assumed you found him rude, as he furrowed his eyebrows for a second before removing the lollipop from his lips and brightening his tone.

“hello, sir? i’m jun from proxy plumbing inc. i’m here for the call about your sink?”

you blinked a couple times, shooting your eyes back up to meet his. you offered a sheepish smile, a bit embarrassed.

“yes! sorry, come right on in...” you finally responded, stepping aside to allow him entrance.

jun smiled back at you before plopping the lollipop back in his mouth, reaching down to pick up a huge back of equipment that you had been too easily distracted to notice.

the taller male followed you through your cozy apartment, eyeing the abstract art on the wall and plush stuffed animals mounted on ledges and counters.

cute, he thinks.

“so, i’m not really sure what’s wrong with it, but the lady from your office said something about an internal leakage on the phone?” you spoke when you reached the kitchen. 

jun nodded. “mind if i take a look?”

setting his bag down, the sandy blonde dug inside and fished a flashlight. he loomed over your sink, arching over to shine his light down the drain and get a good look.

you were originally standing next to him, growing a bit flustered at how he practically towered over you. you stepped back so he could have space to better examine your sink - at least that’s what you told yourself. of course, it was only a coincidence that you stepped far enough back to see his round butt fit tight against his jumpsuit. geez, you’re such a perv.

you’re once again snapped out of your trance from his physique as he shoots back up to give you a debriefing of what exactly was wrong with your sink. you listened along, nodding as he spewed terms you had no idea about and honestly weren’t interested in learning. your gaze simply remained transfixed on his pink lips as he spoke, lightly glistening from sucking on his lollipop.

“alright, mr. y/n, i’ll go ahead and start the repair.”

“sounds good- oh, and just y/n is fine, if you want.” you offer with a friendly smile, maybe too friendly.

“okay, y/n.” he returns your flirty smile, and you swore you saw a wink for a split second.

as he got started, he opened up the bottom cabinet below the sink, and started... unzipping his jumpsuit? you froze in place, watching the metallic zipper fly down the middle of his torso, stopping just at his waist. he freed his arms through their loops, exposing his toned biceps through the lightly tattered white tank top he wore underneath.

his lollipop danced between his lips as he tied the now loose arm flaps tightly around his waist, revealing how thin it actually was in comparison to his broad shoulders. damnit, how was a plumber so sculpted.

he looks up, quirking an eyebrow curiously at you when he catches your lingering stare on the delicious curves of his arms. you immediately turned around after getting busted, wanting to avoid risking him seeing the blush you felt sneaking its way to your cheeks.

“o-okay then, i’ll just be in my room... finishing some work... holler if you need anything.”

you splashed water on your face in your bathroom. looking at yourself in the mirror, you cursed. you were a mess.

only 10 minutes into ‘finishing some work’, which actually consisted of stealing glimpses of the tall, lean, muscular man under your sink every couple of seconds, you felt a warmth in your stomach that just wouldn’t leave.

there was no way you were turned on by your plumber.

you gently smacked your palm against your face, trying to make yourself snap out of it. you were just tired. yeah,, that was it. you were just exhausted from managing school and work and were feeling the lonely withdrawals of dealing with a breakup.

it had only been two weeks, after all. but it had been a total of four weeks since you got physical. a month without feeling the satisfying warmth of someone else wrapping you in their arms.

as you kept peaking at jun’s arms flexing while he worked, you couldn’t cease from imagining those arms being the ones to end your touch deprived streak, encasing you. you imagined him nuzzling his head in your neck and leaving hot, bubblegum scented kisses. you obviously noticed how undeniably skilled his hands were at working a wrench, you could only imagine how it would feel for him to be skillfully stroking your-

ㅤ

y/n. focus.

ㅤ

you changed out of your work clothes and put on some short gym shorts and a loose tank top, hoping the air condition would cool you down.

this man was here for a job. that’s it. he was going to fix your sink and you both would carry on about your days, business as usual. it was immature to let your fantasies run wild about some stranger that was only at your place for professional reasons - plumbing nonetheless, arguably the most unromantic scenario possible.

you got a grip on reality. the reality that any mature, adult man would be responsible and not go out there to flirt with employees, no matter how badly you wanted to.

ㅤ

“y/n~~” jun called from the kitchen, almost playfully.

“yes?” you respond from your room.

“come talk to me, i’m bored.”

ㅤ

....fuck the reality.

ㅤ

you couldn’t have moved fast enough back into the kitchen. when you arrived, laptop being held balanced on one of your forearms, you leaned against one of the cabinets.

jun’s jumpsuit, while still tied, had significantly lowered on his waist. it seemed he was getting quite the work out dealing with your pipes, as his white tank stop started to cling to his torso through a layer of sweat. oh god, this was terrible. his chest and pecs was nearly in full view, his abs taking the chance to peak through the transparent white as well.

you begged your eyes to behave, maintaining eye contact with jun as he lifted his head to watch you walk in. a little smirk played on his lips, satisfied at how soon you arrived.

ㅤ

“isn’t it a little unprofessional that an employee is asking to be kept company while on the job?” you ask, a teasing tone dancing through your voice.

“i suppose... but it’s probably more concerning when the employer is undressing the worker with his eyes every 5 minutes.” jun quipped back, sitting up from his position under the sink.

your breath hitched, and you to cough a little, causing jun to chuckle.

ㅤ

“just kidding, i know you just want me to do a thorough job.” he continued, rummaging through his tool bag and grabbing some sharp pliers.

returning to his position on his back under your cabinets, his propped one of his legs up, spread just a little more than they needed to be. oh god, you really didn’t want him to leave.

you were stunned in a silence at his ‘joke’, before you began awkwardly laughing to play it off.

ㅤ

“right, of course. you know a lot of companies out here scam clueless customers like me, i just want to make sure my stuff is at least properly fixed.” you perked up, placing your laptop down on the counter.

“that’s true. you don’t have anyone here to help you figure this kinda stuff out?” he questioned, and you knew what was he was getting at.

“nah... my boyfriend and i broke up a couple weeks ago.” you admit, trying not to sound too defeated.

“boyfriend...” you hear jun mumble lowly.

“so does your girlfriend appreciate your handiness around the house?” you question, doing some of your own sleuthing.

ㅤ

jun chuckles at your question, you catching sight of his gorgeous whites even from under the sink.

“nah,, i’ve never had a girlfriend. not exactly into ‘em.” he casually responded, once again making your breath hitch. thankfully, you were more discreet this time.

you didn’t want to assume anything, but decided to test your theory further.

“really?? what’s a handsome guy like you doing without a girlfriend,, i bet the ladies are all over you.”

“they are, but i prefer when it’s the pretty boys.” he responds with an even more visible smirk on his face.

jun slightly lifts his upper body again to look at you, his shirt riding up just enough to expose a small patch of his toned torso. you noticed a small patch of dirt on one of his temples, and somehow it made him even sexier.

ㅤ

your thighs immediately squeeze together, and you fight to keep your jaw from fully dropping. his shamelessness only caused the heat in your stomach to burst into a flame, and there was no putting that shit out now.

the blonde chuckled more as he leaned back to continue his work, but you heard his laughing quickly cut short with a sharp “ow!”

your head shot back to him amidst your flustered state, noticing that he had lost his grip on the pliers and dropped them on his stomach.

it didn’t seem like it would hurt much, but the way jun grabbed the injured spot with a contorted face said otherwise.

“jun?? are you alright?!” asked, shuffling over to him concerned as he curled his body to the side.

he rubbed the area where the pliers fell, grunting.

“are you hurt? let me see.” you say, gently tugging his tattered shirt upwards.

“it’s really nothing,” he pants. “is just a-“

you pull his shirt up.

“scar.” you mutter softly, eyeing a faint, decently sized stripe that ran up the side of his torso.

“it was bad when i got it during a job a couple months ago, but it’s just a little sensitive now.” he spoke, his original cocky tone no where to be found.

you nodded. admittedly, it looked way cooler than it did painful, and you couldn’t help but feast your eyes on the rest of his exposed torso that it complimented. his skin was practically glowing - glistening from a thin sheet of sweat.

his eyes locked on to you as you gently reached out to feel along his scar, his toned abs lightly contracting at your gentle touch. you’d lie if you said you didn’t feel blood rush south as your hand glided over his muscles, taking the liberty to roam his bare chest.

eventually, he leaned up after fully discarding his shirt and was just letting you feel wherever you wanted. both of your breaths were becoming labored. his skin was so smooth, but his lean muscles were so firm.

you held your breath when you locked eyes. whatever was happening, there was no going back - your body kicking into autopilot as your fingers danced along his frame. you reveled in the feeling of his defined shoulders underneath your palms.

“does it still.. hurt?” you ask in a whisper.

“it.... uh... not anymore.”

ㅤ

those words were the last to be spoken before the whirlwind began.

only mere seconds had passed before you pressed against your cabinets in a heated kiss. jun’s lips desperately assaulted yours in a fury, and you returned the force with a hunger so strong you could feel your mind hazing over.

you were so lost in the warmth that was radiating from him to that you hadn’t even noticed jun hoisting you up against the wall and wrapping your legs around his waist.

a deep moan ripped from your throat as jun’s tongue invited itself into your mouth, swirling and sucking with a strength you couldn’t comprehend. jun must’ve been just as needy as you were, as you were reduced to squeezing him tightly in order to even keep up with his mouth’s tempo.

the older male’s fingers kneaded into your ass cheeks as one of your hands curled into his hair, allowing your free arm to drape over his broad shoulders and feel along the expanse of his smooth, exposed back. your eyes rolled to the back of your head when jun switched to sucking passionately on your neck’s pulse point, feeling your palm glide along his firm shoulder blade.

his skin felt so irresistibly good under your touch you swore you could’ve been daydreaming. 

he dug his head farther into your neck and couldn’t resist the urge to grind against your core after hearing your whimpers, which grew louder from the sensation his mouth was bringing your weak spot. the aroused groan that escaped jun’s throat from the friction of your bodies rubbing together only made more heat pool in your stomach.

the blonde lowered you back to the floor just long enough to pull your short-shorts down, revealing the bulging erection that prodded through your underwear. jun licked his lips seductively before looking at you again, a slow smirk growing on his face. you were busy panting from the intensity of it all, and he was reveling in seeing you so worked up. you couldn’t help yourself from whining once more from the silence and latching on to his biceps, pouncing back on him.

he caught you in his arms effortlessly, maintaining the god-forsaken smirk during your sloppy makeout when your legs returned to their place around his waist. you were shocked at the difference a singular layer could make, shamelessly obsessed w the pressure his abs were bringing your clothed cock.

“you’re driving me crazy, please take these off.” you groaned in between heated kisses, referring to his plumbing jumpsuit still tied around his waist.

“so shameless, mr. y/n. i didn’t expect such a needy client today.” he quirked back, only half-joking. he really didn’t expect his today to go like this, but who was he to complain. 

your face was glowing red from both embarrassment and libido as you were once again on your own feet, being dragged by the taller man to your bathroom. 

you were then immediately pressed up against the door, jun trapping your lips within his once more. you could still taste the faint flavor of his bubblegum lollipop, making him addicting enough to almost just want to stay like this forever. your greedy hands roamed over his tones torso once more, his body slightly wincing when you graced over the scar on his muscly torso again. 

you broke the kiss for air, but mostly to watch how his lean abs rippled under your touch. you couldn’t help but release another deep moan at the sight of his perfect body, and the grin on jun’s expectant face gave away his satisfaction of you practically drooling over him. 

however, he also noticed your disdain over the uniform pants he still wore, your slightly perverted mind running wild with the imagination of what he looked like underneath. 

“patience, baby, patience.” jun whispered slyly as he effortlessly lifted you yet again and placed you on the sink counter. 

he tugged at your underwear’s waistband before looking at you with lust-filled eyes, your pleading face begging him to continue. 

his warm mouth traced kisses down your thighs, that were seconds away from trembling, as he dragged the material down. jun discarded the boxers with ease, and dragged his tongue painfully slow up one of your calves and to your inner thigh. 

your throbbing erection begged for attention, yet he was determined not to give it anything more than a gentle peck on your shaft - an action that sent you nearly feral. if your thighs weren’t trembling before, they were now hosting a seismic earthquake as jun stood and removed his own plumber pants, his muscular thighs now on full display for your eyes. 

you whined and squirmed in place on the counter when you took in the size of his erect cock, it was beautiful. the idea of a man being built this perfect still couldn’t settle in your mind, and at this point every fiber of your being was aching for him. 

your gawking didn’t go unnoticed by jun, who finally returned your attention by grabbing your legs and dragging you to the edge of the sink. a deep sigh escaped the both of you as your now bare erection pressed up against his abs, and his member prodded at your entrance.  

jun’s eyes searched yours for confirmation, and when you desperately shook your head yes and clung to his shoulders for stability, he finally started pushing in. 

you moaned a little quick-- and too loud, for your own liking, but the immediate pleasure the stretch brought you was almost unbearable. it had been so long, and the more he filled you the more you felt like you were floating. you threw your neck back as he hilted inside you, him littering kisses and nips on your neck column.

he stood still for a while, not even hearing your pleas for him to move as he got lost in prodding his tongue and lips against your nipples. the stimulation was making your head spin and you really weren’t sure how much you could handle before you lost it. 

“j-jun, please.” you weakly whimpered, to which he happily obliged. 

and fuck, the talent in this man’s hips was unbelievable. once he started rolling his hips into yours, he didn’t miss your sweet spot a single time. 

you bit your lip to keep from emitting any more embarrassing noises, eventually opting to taking one of his own muscular pecs into your mouth, drawing out a groan from him instead. your ego boost with every deep sound he made, the vibration surging through his chest offering you even more pleasure. 

soon enough you met your climax, the feeling of your sensitive tip rubbing against the grooves of his abs proving to be more than enough to get you shooting white over them. 

jun’s name fell from your mouth endlessly as you struggled to catch your breath, causing him to slow to a stop after helping you riding out your high.

“attaboy,” he spoke, bathing in your fucked out face before placing a kiss on your cheek. “you did so well.” 

“but you didn’t finish..” you replied, feeling guilty after noticing you couldn’t hold out until he reached his own orgasm.

jun simply chuckled at you before helping you down from the sink and gently pushing you to your knees.

“its ok, you can help me.” he quipped. you looked up at him a bit confused, and he stroked a hand through your hair. 

safe to say the kitchen’s pipes weren’t the only ones clogged that day.

ㅤ

© 𝐟𝐥𝐰𝐫𝐛𝐨𝐢 — all rights reserved

[tenkasato]

Choose Me Again

Hello! Here's the Akashi-centric oneshot I promised for the longest time. It's been sitting in my drafts folder for more than 3 years. So I decided to just upload it, for what it's worth. It's quite long, but I thought it'd be better to post it in one post rather than per chapter. Warning: IT'S A MAMMOTH, but I hope you guys would hold on til the end of it. Without further ado, here it goes...

The first time he met you was when he went over to his favorite tea shop in the suburbs. It was a small place situated at the corner of the street.

The interior was designed with newspaper clips of its successful endeavours. The photos of famous celebrities in black and white pinned onto cork boards were memoirs of the once high-end tea house. The sole source of light was the dimming bulb by the corner, and the rest was shed by the afternoon sun.

You, like he, were a rare sight.

You wore a wrinkled and faded high school uniform. Your tie was a little crooked. Your long tresses were tousled and gathered into a messy bun. Your lips were pursed, eyebrows knitted in concentration. A lotus crest was embroidered on your blazer, one that he couldn't recognize.

Before he could saunter over to his usual seat, he found himself walking towards you. You looked up the moment he came to view, demeanour cautious and intrigued.

"Hi."

"Hello."

Polite smiles were exchanged.

"I haven't seen you around here.”

He lowered his eyes to the vacant seat in front of you with a silent question.

"Can't say the same to you," you replied with a grin as you gestured for him to sit. "I work back there with the dishes so I don't go out and meet the customers."

He raised his eyebrows and nodded with a low hum. That explained why your sleeves were pushed up to the level of your elbows. You shrugged, unbothered, and returned back to what you were busy with before he interrupted. Sketches of faceless women clad in formal dresses were scattered around the round table. Eraser dusts were everywhere.

“Why do you always come to this place? It’s full of old people and it smells like incense.”

While most of his peers went to KTVs, arcades and malls, he preferred quiet places like these. It was no wonder he caught your eyes. A young man fresh from school in his white blazers looked odd and out of place.

“You’ve been watching?”

You shook your head with a chuckle, the motion letting loose some strands from her bun.

“I like observing people.”

The second time you met, he finally asked your name. And he told you his.

“Akashi Seijuro, hmmm.”

His name rolled on your tongue like candy. Not the excessively sweet one, but the type that leaves a gentle aftertaste in the mouth. He liked hearing his name with your voice.

He waited for your eyes to widen, to pause, to shrink back under his stare. A renowned surname like his seemed to have that kind of effect on others. His family was influential in terms of politics and business. It was a double-edged sword. One that struck fear and respect from his classmates.

But you simply nodded. Perhaps you weren't aware.

That was his notion until you spoke again.

"Must be tough to be under pressure all the time." You spun your pencil with your fingers, the twirls and tumbles mesmerizing him for a bit. "No wonder you frequent this shabby stall for some breathers."

"You've come to quite an interesting conclusion.”

"I'm not wrong, am I?"

He wondered if you were good at reading people because you drew expressions well. Melancholy in a smile so wide. Apprehension hidden behind closed eyes. Ranges of emotion in supposedly expressionless animals. Your hands worked craftily with just a pencil.

How would you draw him?

Curious, he asked you.

“I don't know.”

And he left it at that, despite wanting to ask why. It was hard to understand someone like him that even he couldn't fully comprehend what he truly was. He looked at himself in the mirror everyday. He still had the same face, the same lips and cheeks. But with a look closer, his image would rattle, shift and shatter. It made his left eye throb.

“Do you want to go outside? You don't look so good.”

He peeked across the window to where his car was parked. With a little contemplation, he nodded and texted his chauffeur that he was going to walk home.

~ O ~

When he met you one afternoon in front of the tea shop, you were clutching a ball between you arm and hip looking peeved and embarrassed.

“Do you know how to play?”

A shrug. “Just a little.”

You smiled bashfully.

“Teach me.”

You found an outdoor court beside a nearby middle school. He started by instructing how to dribble and what stance to take. He demonstrated how to shoot, before pointing at the three point line and telling you what it was for. When you understood the basics, he told you to get past him and shoot.

“I’d appreciate it if you told me beforehand that we were playing. I should have brought clothes."

“I don't exactly have your number, Akashi-kun.”

You finally called quits when the sky began to tint orange. Panting, you accused him of lying about being an amateur in basketball. He chuckled, removing his sweaty blazer as he watched you fan at your flushed face. Walking back to the benches to retrieve his phone, he told you to give him your number. You complied albeit excitedly.

It was only after two weeks of practicing that he texted you that he was a basketball team captain.

~ O ~

Akashi Seijuro had never had a crush on anyone.

It wasn't that he didn't want to. He had a fair share of admirers from the student body with his inherent good looks, academic standing, school positions held and family background. He met a few who showed outright interest in him, but what he expected to feel, he didn't.

Like he was trained to, he set his eyes on the sole goal of the family. To excel in all fields. Unfortunately, socializing for the sake of romantic escapades was not covered by his lessons at home.

So when you innocently reached out for his hand that one night, pulling him towards the river bank to show him a stone trick, he felt a zap. It pierced through his chest before expanding into flutters breaking out of his skin. He felt nauseous but it left a pleasant sensation in his gut. Addicting and quite unbecoming.

You kept on talking, bragging about your skill, unknowingly gripping his hand tighter. Mind going blank, he felt across the creases on your palm, the callousness of your fingers. Your hand was cold from the chill of the night. It made him want to bring it inside his hoodie pocket to provide some semblance of warmth.

This was another thing he was never trained for by his father. Confessing to a girl he recently found he liked.

He thought, perhaps it isn't the right time to confess.

~ O ~

Akashi Seijuro never had a diary.

His mom had one. It was pink and adorned with handmade flower crafts and ribbons. It was kept inside her closet where his father would never look. She showed it to him one time, saying that a diary was meant to keep all his deepest secrets and even his flitting daydreams. Her smile was wide, eyes with a twinkle of mischief like she and he were sharing a secret no one was meant to get a whiff of. She said she’d help him choose a notebook when he was old enough.

When he had touched her diary for the first time, it felt heavy. Like his heart that had probably been coated with lead that time.

His mom along with her memories had been buried under white roses, but her secrets, dreams, thoughts—it was kept immortalized in her diary. Why had his father chosen white flowers? His mom loved pink. Why couldn't they let her choose something for herself at least for the last time?

That had been the last time he cried.

He never bought himself a diary even as he grew older. But he now understood the glee of being able to share the things he buried under piles and piles of pretence and grandiosity. To be able to say how much he hated mathematics despite being exceptional in it. To be able to eat three cup noodles in one night. To be able to laugh loudly without worrying about etiquette.

If his mom had been alive, he would be able to tell her that he already had a diary in the form of a you.

“The only reason I was allowed to play basketball was because I could learn to lead people better. Basketball is a strategic sport, after all.”

“But do you like playing?”

“Yes. It was my mom who first taught me.”

“Then you should play for the sake of enjoying yourself. Winning is just secondary to it.”

How simple you made it sound. Yet, it was something he's been yearning to hear from anyone.

“Date me.”

You choked on your cola, unfortunately dirtying the sketch you were working on. He had said it on the whim. Impulsive, and certainly an act that starkly contrasted how he was raised to be. However, it felt right that time. With your hand casually brushing with his, your head leaning against his shoulder, it felt extremely right.

When you're sixteen, you're obliged to think that you can take risks and your actions wouldn't garner grave consequences. At least, that was how most teenagers had it. He didn't think he was to be categorized under 'most teenagers', but as the wind blew past you and went on with its never ending journey, he thought I could be a normal kid once in a while.

Your hand closed around his fingers until they whitened on pressure. He flickered his eyes to you, and with a breathless chuckle, you finally answered.

“Sure.”

~ O ~

“Sei-kun, I’m sorry. I’m leaving.”

And that was the first time he allowed himself to cry again.

~ O ~

He convinced himself that it was out of his or your control. It was like one of those famous, overused lines in the movies where the love was perfect, but the timing just wasn't.

And maybe, that was the case for you and for him.

Was he mad?

No.

Did it hurt?

Akashi Seijuro didn't think he needed to answer that.

But what could a 16-year-old do when his first love leaves because of unavoidable circumstances? His family was powerful. He had money. He had intelligence. However that wasn't nearly enough to magically change your family's mind of moving.

What you had was beautiful. A blissful time of trying things out for the first time with someone who could have potentially been his partner for life. It was like a favorite chapter in a book. Once a page was flipped over, a scene came to a conclusion. You could only now turn one page back to recall the memories and relive them.

27-year-old Akashi Seijuro understood this now. Or rather, he accepted it.

His father was close to retiring, and naturally, the one next in line was him. He was more than ready to bear the responsibility as the new CEO of Akashi Enterprises next year. All that was left was papers and formalities.

He had changed a lot since the day you left. Friendships broken to rubble and restored to full. Priorities set straight. Perceptions changed. The pain in his left eye had subsided close to none. He felt whole again, like a wholer version of himself before he started dissociating in front of his mother’s tombstone.

Maybe you leaving was a good thing, because if you had been there when he had broken down, you would've been caught in a maelstrom. You would've gotten hurt. The him now wouldn't have forgiven the versions of him then.

He fixed it. Not without help of course, but he did.

Hence, when he stepped into the tea shop—not the old, rickety one back home, he was stunned. Maybe it was his reward for holding out.

Or maybe, it was true. What they said in the movies.

There you were, a pencil in your hand and your hair in a bun.

Looking as alluring and enigmatic as ever.

Perhaps, this time, the timing was perfect.

~ O ~

Akashi Seijuro thought that he should feel the tug of hesitation, keeping him from eagerly approaching your hunched form. It was inherent in human nature to avoid pain at all costs. But like he so emphasized from the very beginning, he was not like most people.

With a grace befitting of an heir, he walked towards your table.

It took you a few seconds before noticing the figure in front of you. When you looked up, your eyes widened. When he quirked up his lips, you visibly relaxed.

"Hey, you."

"You look different."

And indeed you did. The baby fat around your face was gone. Your lips were painted deep red, eyes framed by light beige. You sported a long dress that hugged your figure.

You were his first love, and yet you were not.

"I can say the same about you, Akashi-san."

He pretended that the way he was addressed did not sting him, but even so, he raised his brows before taking a seat.

"How have you been?"

He didn't think that between the millions of interweaving lines of time and space, his hand would be able to touch this particular one and meet with you again. For a long time, you had only existed in his memories and dreams. Right now, you breathed the same air as he did, listened to his words as he tried to piece the lost moments together with yours.

You told him your story.

And then, it his turn to tell his story.

He told you of the downward spiral he fell into after you left, not missing how you flinched in your seat. Victory became his primal objective. Acting like he was bred to, he crushed all his rivals and even went as far as discarding camaraderie in the basketball team and demolishing their opponents’ morales. In a bystander’s view, he was most peerless and unreachable during these times. But to the few people who really cared about him, he had been on his way to self-destruct.

“Someone slapped some senses into you, I’m guessing.”

“If you want a summarized version, then yes. Kuroko and the others. You’ve met them a few times before.”

“I remember. Go on. I want the uncut version of the story.”

The smile that graced his lips was foreign—young, boyish and carefree. One that you recognized and reciprocated with your own, familiar one.

~ O ~

Two people who had once been naive and innocent 16-year-olds, spending long afternoons in a traditional tea house downtown.

The same two people who were now jaded and mature 27-year-olds, spending mellow evenings in a sophisticated tea shop in the city.

Soon, the little tea shop had turned into your tiny bubble where you could be themselves again.

It was a haven. It was a home. It was rest.

“How did you know this place?”

Because you could've met in a different place amongst all others, but you chanced upon each other here. In this fated sanctuary.

You dropped two sugar cubes and stirred at your americano before continuing.

“It's barely in the maps, and as far as I’m aware, they aren't fans of advertisements.”

Your nails were cut short like usual. Unmanicured.

“This place is owned by a relative."

“What? Are you telling me your family owns everything in this city?”

Chuckle.

“I don't recall saying that.”

“Not kidding?”

“He’s a cousin, abandoned by my uncle because he was born out of wedlock. When my uncle died, my father looked for him and sent him to school.”

“Then he opened a tea shop?”

“Basically, yes. You’ve never seen him around?”

You hummed contemplatively.

“Does he look like you?”

“Not even a bit.”

You stopped stirring and gently placed the spoon on the napkin. When you raised your gaze, a teasing and enticing smile on your lips, he swore he saw something flash across them. It could've been a trick of light, because after he blinked, it was gone. His heart bursted.

“Then, I haven't noticed him I guess.”

~ O ~

When did it happen?

He looked into the colors of your eyes.

Akashi Seijuro had always been in awe of how your eyes changed as light struck them in different angles and intensities. Wavelengths shifted out and across, dancing like a kaleidoscope enigmatically.

Tonight, you rested contently at the passenger’s seat, idly watching the streetlights that zoomed past them.

When he stopped the car in front of your place, you tilted youra head to bid him a good night.

It gave him a chance to look closely, to pick apart the poems, riddles and odes written in those eyes. There, he saw the same longing, a glimmer of nostalgia and pain that spoke of the same things his did. You thought about him, too—everyday since the day you said farewells under the Sakura tree.

You have never really moved on from him. What elation it gave him to know that he wasn't the only one left hanging in limbo.

He gave in, bared his heart again for the second time and asked for you to be his.

They say miracles happened all the time. You only had to look carefully. He could attest to that, because as he lost sight of you eyes, lips touching in the most revered and gentlest of ways, hearts reuniting, he could say this was his miracle.

~ O ~

When did it happen?

Time blurred by and swept with it the days of each year. Akashi-kun turned into Seijuro-kun which turned into Sei—just as how seasons shifted to take their turns inevitably.

And for a long time, he had forgotten how it felt to have you by his side.

To have you wait for him to send a message of good morning. To know you were worrying about him when the drizzle turned into a downpour. To know you would love every inch of him, the dips, the rough patches, the jagged edges as if every part of him were perfect.

With his hand secured behind your knees, he walked on the path crusted with dried leaves autumn left in its wake. You had an arm wrapped around his shoulders with your face nuzzled in the crook of his neck.

The afternoon sun casted a magenta glow on your light strands of hair. It made the grin on your lips much softer than it looked.

"I better be rewarded for granting your wish, princess."

"Hush, you. You promised to carry me on a piggyback ride when we were younger."

There had been moments like these. Imageries of him and you that he'd frame and keep eternally etched in his heart if he could. Cheeks swelling with magnanimous smiles. Breaths ragged with laughter.

"Sei."

"Hmm?"

"What did you think of me the first time we met?"

A low hum and the lone tea shop downtown came to mind.

"I thought, 'This is the girl I'm going to love for the rest of my life.'"

"Cheesy. Want to know what I thought?"

"What?"

"'This is the man I'm going to marry someday.'"

The reward kiss you gave him after that left the sweetest aftertaste in his lips.

~ O ~

When did it happen?

There had been moments like these, too.

"You're too perfect, Sei.”

“I’m not. Calm down, love. I understand—”

“You do? Look at me and tell me that you really do, Mr. High and Perfect and ‘I-own-everything-even-the-air-you-breathe.’”

Imageries of him and you that he'd rather burn into the cold embers with the ashes to be blown by the gale. He hated to see you hurt, whether it was because of him or not.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to."

Then you’d make up. Nothing dramatic like begging for forgiveness or giving long winded explanations. You knew one of you were at fault, so you accepted it, took each other's hands and nursed your wounds, promising to do better the next time.

At the end of the day it was never for naught, and the kisses you shared in the aftermath were the most affectionate and most desperate of their kind.

~ O ~

When did it happen?

“Sei, take a look at this sketch. Do you think it looks good?”

A wedding gown. It was easily the most gorgeous one he’s ever seen.

“Do you?”

“I think… Yes. I think I like my design.”

“Then it is. There isn't any standard for what is beautiful and what is not. If you ask me, I’d be willing to put it on on our wedding day. Given that you'll have to wear the tuxedo in my stead.”

“My fiancé is one cheeky man, isn't he.”

~ O ~

When did it happen?

He twirled your hand as you spun around on your feet. Your sense of balance slipped away and you fell, figuratively and literally, towards his welcoming arms. There was no music to match the succeeding taps of your feet in the ground, but he preferred it that way. Your voice was enough music to sway him to submission, his head swimming in ecstasy.

“I shouldn't be allowed to be this happy, Sei.”

“Neither should I, love, but here you are.”

~ O ~

Not everyone was fortunate enough to be given a second chance to redo things like they did, and it felt like things had fallen to fit into that perfect puzzle his mind had conjured up in the past, and everything was perfect. At least, that was how he tried convincing himself with. It was perfect. It was supposed to.

But why wasn't it?

Akashi Seijuro didn't know what was missing, what was amiss, what was slowly devouring the special thing they shared. He ignored it, brushed it off as normal for any relationship. Everyone goes through stagnancy like this, right?

Your hands were cold.

He supposed his was, too.

That night when you had promised to meet him by the park so you could stargaze, he started to feel a gaping hole in his chest. When you still hadn't shown up and chauffeur started to send him messages offering to take him home, he knew that hole was rapidly consuming him.

It was raining, the tiny droplets pelting at his skin and soaking him to the bones. He hadn't bothered to open his umbrella and chose to stay on the soil despite the stains marking his pants. Something white moved in his peripheral vision, and the hole grew wider and deeper.

He thought that maybe he should feel something stab through his heart by the way you hesitated to approach him. But the numbness of being battered under the rain for he didn't know how long (—had it been hours? Weeks? Months? Years?), it had overtaken his emotions, caged them, made him feel nothing even though he was likely snapping.

When did it happen?

When he thought you were about to cry, you smiled instead. It was only then when he noticed that the lingering smile he fell in love, over and over and over again, fell colorless, flat, routine.

And it broke his heart even more because it was a smile that said, "I loved you."

~ O ~

If only he knew.

But what could he have done?

~ O ~

And just like that, things started to change drastically. The previously fragile yet somehow stable hands that kept the house of cards from toppling over gone. The dam broke. The balance was thrown off.

Soon, Akashi Seijuro was no longer left to a standstill but was watching everything fall apart with hands tied behind his back. He had never felt so helpless. Not when his pride and name was being smeared over. Not even when he was losing all his friends. The last time he was gobbled up by incapacitating doubt and crippling fear was when his dying mother had cradled his face in her emancipated hands.

Suddenly, he was a young boy again.

But why? he wanted to cry out.

Did he do something wrong? Said something? Wasn't he enough anymore?

If there had been a reason, even the pettiest and most childish reason, he'd be more accepting. Anything. Anything. Really. Anything.

But there wasn't and there was none and when did it happen, no—HOW did it come to this?

He realized that he could no longer muster up the silly thoughts and excuses of ‘maybe the love was right but the timing wasn't’ anymore.

~ O ~

You were changing, distorting, fading. This vessel of you no longer held the soul that once promised him forever.

If he let this go on, he might lose you.

~ O ~

You didn't know what to expect when he called you during work and asked you to meet him at the tea shop. Not the sophisticated one at the heart of the city. But the old one downtown where it all started.

Hands folded. Eyes downcast. Breathing shallow and little at the edge of erratic.

The place had not changed even a bit since the last time you went here as naive teenagers. Except, now there were different sets of customers and you were two different versions of the past. And maybe, if you had the energy and time to look at the far right corner of the establishment, you'd see the new old-fashioned vase sitting on a miniature table.

There were a million things running in his mind—questions he wanted to throw out like why did you waver, why did you give up on us, why can't you fight for us anymore, why aren't you happy anymore, why, why, why. Instead, he settled for:

“Why didn't you tell me?”

Akashi Seijuro had never been one to sugarcoat things. He got straight to the point. Each and every time. You knew that yet you couldn't help the surprise that permeated your gasp.

“You could've said something.”

He pleaded.

"I didn't want to lose you, Sei."

And you did, too.

It was incredibly selfish. So selfish he felt both euphoria and agony squeeze his head to the point of wanting to throw up. His blood screamed at him to keep on holding on for you, for himself. He was trained to be victorious in every single thing, wasn't he? This shouldn't be any different.

But you weren't a game. You weren't his diary. And you weren't his springtime.

You were someone he loved endlessly and mercilessly.

“This isn't going to work anymore.”

“No, no, no, no—wait, let me try again. I can do it! I can try again for—”

“Do you love me?”

“Yes! Sei, I could never not love you!”

“Tell me, princess.”

“Sei—”

“Are you still in love with me?”

You froze, and his heart broke. He knew you wanted to say yes. He could tell by the way your hands stiffened in his. But you hesitated, looked at him imploringly and begged him not to make you say it out loud.

“I thought so.”

“Please don't let me go. I can’t be without you.”

You eyes, coated with a sheen of desperation and despair, spoke in volumes that threatened to deafen him. Let you go. Let you stay. Let you live. Smother you. His heart was a battlefield—a clash between his feelings and his desires.

If he could, he’d cry, too. Instead, he opened his mouth. “I want you to be happy…”

Gently, he released your hands before gingerly, tenderly wiping away the tears on your face.

“...even if it means I’ll no longer be in the picture. You have to grow without me, and I without you.”

He pressed his forehead against yours as he listened to the muffled cries and empty heaves.

He wished that time could be kinder to him to slow down. To hear his pleas to pause in this moment where you were still his, because once you walked out that door, you would no longer be his while he was still yours.

“Promise me, that if after years your heart still calls for me… promise me you'll be the one to come and look for me. Choose me again.”

~ O ~

What was it that they said about in the movies? No matter how tasteless some of them were, he couldn't deny the realistic accuracy they spun around in their tales with only slight exaggerations.

They said third time's a charm.

And surely it was.

For the sake of being poetic, he had wanted to say the place where it all began was also where it was going to end. In that cheap vintage teashop downtown where they had lived in their own little bubble.

He was glad that wasn't the case.

As you walked with a grace that made his legs grow weak and his heart to quicken, he couldn't think of when you had been this painfully, breathtakingly beautiful.

In a sea of black, your long white dress stood out like the moon in the blanket of black skies.

You spotted him instantly, eye glazed with indecipherable emotion as you flashed him the most surreal smile he’d seen.

Back then when he broke it up with you, he hadn't known if he did the right thing. One made choices to move forward, but the consequences could only be reviewed in retrospect. Regrets and remorse were common, but just as satisfaction and rejoicing were.

You came closer, glanced softly at him, and he swore that both of them heard the words you had told him once upon a time.

"I shouldn't be allowed to be this happy, Sei."

He looked at you longingly during that small slice of time, and all the memories came rushing back to him. He remembered the smile you would give him. You always had such a beautiful smile. He wished he could've seen more of it.

He regarded you fondly, told you he loved you without any spoken words and shook his head before stepping aside.

“No, you deserve this.”

Your groom's hand grasped yours. Smiles were exchanged. Intimate gaze returned. Vows already said even before you reached the altar.

Amidst all the heart-wrenching, searing loss and pain, you found solace. You found forgiveness, and through it, healing. And now that you belonged to someone else, but he wouldn't count this as a loss.

After all, he was able to preserve that smile. He finally learned to let go albeit willingly and happily, and entrusted you to his cousin whom he knew would love you more than he ever did.

And while Akashi Seijuro wasn't a religious man, he sent a silent prayer to the One who made you.

Take care of her for me.

And that's a wrap, everyone! If you made it this far, MUCH THANKS. I remember writing this piece in my room at midnight 3 years ago. This fic is actually inspired by this Filipino song, "Paubaya". It's quite a lovely song sang by a very talented singer and songwriter.

As you've all noticed, this is heavily Akashi-centric. It was written all in his POV, and I made sure to insert some aspects and key memories of his life into it.

To be clear, reader did not cheat on Akashi with his cousin. Reader-chan fell out of love, and to some extent, Akashi did too. It happens. It's a sad reality.

Lastly, can anyone guess who Akashi's cousin is? *wink wink*

Anyhow, thank you once again everyone. I'm elated to have been able to post something again after years. Thank you! ^^

[dominantslasherking]

hi!! im the one who sent this

and id like to request a oneshot with brahms since he's definitely my fav <3 something with like y/n being a sexy husband and brahms like totally obsessed with him

not rlly smut but maybe like some thoughts about y/n from brahms lol

ur response to my last ask made me wanna ask: who's your favorite slasher/character? just curious 🤭

Brahms Heelshire with Dominant Male S/o

My Stories are meant for the much more mature audience, 18+.

Authors Note: I have a lot of favorites at the moment, but currently Patrick Bateman has been on my mind alottttt.

"Hello," You spoke to the nanny, as she stared at you in awe, wondering who in the world you were. "I was just simply making Brahms a meal..." You uttered with a polite smile, taking the tray of food you finished making, your lean body twitching back slightly, as you were currently shirtless with an apron covering your chest and stomach.

But it did give Greta a view of your back muscle, she couldn't help but stare at the food in awe, "Are...you the chef?" She muttered confused, you simply shook your head, "Oh, not at all, I'm married to Brahms, his parents treat him like a child because he's a brat most of the time..." You grumbled out, disliking how his parent's barely paid any attention to him and treated him like a complete child, it also got on Brahms's nerves at times.

"I--" Greta was baffled, were you actually married to a doll??? Greta stepped forward looking down at the delicious food, if it was really going to such waste, can't she say she was supposed to deliver it and then eat it?

"I can...take it there if you want." As she spoke these words she didn't realize the danger looming in the walls, looking at her with hatred and jealousy for stalking so close to his husband.

A loud and intent bang was heard, nearly causing Greta to fall on the floor in surprise, but quickly caught herself midair, she stared at you with worry and disbelief.

"Seems Brahms doesn't like you getting too close, I'll deliver it." You spoke brushing passed the Nanny, taking your body and food forward to Brahms and your shared room, which was much bigger and cozy than Brahm's old one.

As you made your way into the house, you finally made it towards the room, you opened it, to see Brahms already there, the doll set away on the rocking chair as the real Brahms was on the bed, his eyes deadly set on you.

Making your way over, you leaned over to Brahms offering him the meal, he eagerly took it, his eyes going back to your apron, watching as you loosely undid it letting it fall to the floor.

"It got a bit hot while cooking, I didn't know the nanny was over so--" You were cut off by Brahms throwing his food to the floor, and standing up, You were taller than him, so when he stood up it wasn't as threatening as it could have been, his hand started to roam around your body, as he lifted his porcelain mask up and bit, and started to fluttered out kisses on your naked upper body.

He began to kiss, and make hickeys and bite marks as if trying to put his claim on you like a feral animal would.

"Oh, I'm sorry darling, did you not like me talking to the nanny?" You teased, ruffling your hand on his hair, as he bit down on your flesh a little too hard drawing a bit of blood before lapping it up with his tongue.

'Mine, mine, mine,' Brahms thought as he stared into your eyes with his own after finishing biting and creating hickeys on your body, sure Brahms liked the nanny but he wasn't willing to share anything with her that included you, not even the food you make, it was for him to eat or throw away as he pleased.

'Shes... she's not the one getting fucked by [Name]!' his thoughts continued as he began to calm down, realizing that you were only his, and if anyone tried anything he would just clasp his hands around their necks and snap it.

"Husband..." Brahms spoke out in his husky normal voice, putting his mask back on properly before stuffing his face into your neck, and pulling you into a hug.

[hunn1e-bunn1e]

Barbatos - "In Your Care"

🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•

Short!

So I've been really sick for the past week and I'm feeling like sh¡t. My throat is very swollen and sore so I can only eat things like warm soup, jello and pudding. I've been wanting to write everybody's asks but I have this raging migraine that flares up every time I look at my screen. So here's this little oneshot of you being taken care of by Barbatos that I've steadily written over several days. — A very sick Benny🐰

                                                                                                   

🧻•♡•💊•♡•🧻•♡•💊•♡•🧻•♡•💊•♡•🧻•♡•💊

You groaned as you buried your face deeper into the pillows that littered your bed; your body curled up into a tight ball. The pounding in your head still hadn't stopped even after taking an asprin; it was like your skull was caving in. Your eyes trail to the door as you shakily sit up; wiping your running nose with a kleenex that was sat on your bedside table.

"Barbatooooosss."

You whine; your scratchy and hoarse voice making you sound akin to the howling of an injured animal; the ache in your muscles forcing you to lower yourself back onto your mattress.

You had been sick with the Devildom variant of a cold for the past few days; leaving you bed practically bedridden. The Devildom was an extreme place for a human to reside, so of course illnesses are just as intense. Luckily for a poor, fragile human like you, you have a wonderful demon lover to take care of you.

The door opens quietly, yet still makes you flinch due to your now heightened sense of pain, and in steps Barbatos carrying a tray of tea and soup. He gives you a sympathetic smile as he approaches your bedside; quickly casting a silencing spell before he moves. Gentle chartreuse eyes watch as you twitch an squirm in pain when he gently sets the trey on the bedside table.

"Oh, My Darling. You poor little thing. Don't worry, I'll bring you back to peak health, My Dear."

Barbatos coos as he gently strokes your damp forehead; leaning forward to press a kiss to your temple soon after.

Turning to the side table; the royal steward picks up the bowl of soup and turns back to you. You get into a sitting position and maneuver the pillows behind you so you can lean back onto them. He gives youa loving smile as he lifts the soup filled spoon to your lips; feeding you carefully. You can't decern what flavor it is due to the loss of you taste and smell, but it's warm and a bit thick.

The two of you sat there in a comfortable silence for a while; as the bowl emptied so too did the time pass. Eventually Barbatos stood and gave you an apologetic smile; giving you another kiss on you forehead.

"I apologize, My Love, I must go and see to his highness. You need only to relax; I will return to you in due time."

The chartreuse eyed man bowed politely before turning and quietly exiting your room.

Even if he was busy watching over the prince of the devildom he still made time to take care of you, and really wasn't much more you could ask for.

☕•♡•🍲•♡•☕•♡•🍲•♡•☕•♡•🍲•♡•☕•♡•🍲

🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•

Wanna see similar content? Check out my Masterlist!

[cilil]

𝐃𝐞𝐜𝐫𝐞𝐞 | 𝐍𝐨 𝐅𝐨𝐫𝐜𝐞

𓄌 Characters/pairings: Gothmog x Eönwë (Firebird) 𓄌 Synopsis: Gothmog has been looking for an opportunity to meet a certain Maia again. Eönwë is hoping to become the target of a fierce hunter. 𓄌 Warnings: Smut, rimming, Eönwë is weird, Gothmog is a Balrog so it's monsterfucking 𓄌 Oneshot (~1.4k words) | AO3

"There you are, my pretty." 

Wide blue eyes met glowing orange when Gothmog stepped out of the shadows where had kept himself hidden.

"You are one of the Dark One's Maiar," Eönwë whispered as if the mere mention of Melkor was sinful, the plumage on his wings fluffing up defensively. "You shouldn't be here."

"I am," Gothmog said nonchalantly and walked closer. "Are you afraid?" 

He was curious more than anything. The object of his desire was a warrior like himself, of that he was certain and his lord believed it too, but the other Maia's fána was tense and anxiety written all over his face. 

"I can defend myself if it comes to... that," Eönwë said. Eyes narrowed, he surveyed the fire spirit in front of him. "You seem familiar." 

Gothmog chuckled. "Aye. We have met before, bird."

"Where? I don't–" 

"Have you truly forgotten? You wound me." 

Eönwë blinked. His brow furrowed as he searched his memory, until finally realisation struck. 

"Did you... were you the one who took me when I was caught by the Dark One's snowstorm?" 

"Yes." Seeing his uncertainty, Gothmog held up his hands. "I swear I didn't hurt you. I only brought you home." 

"You... were the one who..." Eönwë appeared to be lost in thought for a moment, then shook his head. "Well. And now?" 

"I, uh... just wanted to see you again?" Gothmog shifted on his clawed feet. 

"Not claim me?" Maybe he was imagining things, but for a moment Eönwë seemed almost disappointed.

"Claim you? Why?" 

"You have horns." He pointed at the magnificent pair sprouting from Gothmog's forehead. 

"Yes? I always do." 

"Oh." Slowly, Eönwë folded his wings. "Well, the Feast of Horns is currently taking place again, so I thought..." 

Gothmog didn't know too much about the customs of Almaren's Maiar and shrugged his shoulders. "My lord just told me it was a good opportunity because many of you would be out and about." 

He eyed the dejected-looking herald who politely nodded along. 

"Did you want me to? Claim you, I mean?" 

Eönwë's feathers immediately went up again, this time accompanied by a bright red blush.

"Would you enjoy that?" Gothmog continued to press, stepping closer. He was in range to smell the other Maia now and tried his best to hide the fact that he was greedily inhaling his scent. It was subtle, especially in an environment where plants and animals were abundant, but he caught it without fail, having familiarised himself with it when he had last held the herald in his arms. 

"Maybe?" Eönwë looked around sheepishly as if he was convinced that one of the Valar would jump out of the bushes to scold him for fraternising with an enemy. Still, there was undeniable excitement slowly seeping into his demeanour. 

Taking this as an invitation, Gothmog reached out to pet his head. The pale blonde locks were just as soft as they looked, as were the feathers on his ears that made them look like tiny wings attached to his head. 

Eönwë leaned into his touch for a moment, lowering his head in the manner of birds wanting their neck feathers preened, but then recoiled suddenly. "No." 

Gothmog withdrew his hand. "No?" 

Regret was written all over Eönwë's face immediately. 

"No, I meant... just not like this." 

"What do you mean then?"

He bit his bottom lip. "More... forcefully."

Gothmog frowned. "Isn't that forbidden on Almaren?" 

"Well, yes, but... you wouldn't care about that, would you?" 

"You speak in riddles, bird. And while you are pretty and I meant what I said about seeing you again, I won't be walking into any traps or let myself be ridiculed." 

Eönwë vigorously shook his head. "No, that... no, not at all. I swear it. I merely thought..." 

He seemed to be fighting with himself for a few moments longer before he answered. "I just want it like that, you know? Passionate, violent. But the others won't even hunt me properly. No one has come for me yet..." 

His shoulders visibly stiffened. "And I thought maybe you would be interested." 

"So you just want someone to be rough with you," Gothmog concluded. 

"Yes."

He reached out again, and the other Maia didn't protest. This time he seized a fistful of his hair and pulled on it, dragging him closer. 

Eönwë let out a small moan. 

"Like that?" Gothmog asked. 

"Yes. Exactly like that." 

It was all the encouragement he needed to throw the herald to the ground and pounce on him. Eönwë was struggling and frantically flapping his wings like a bird caught in the jaws of a predator, and it felt great to overpower him and hold him down with his mightier fána. Gothmog bit his shoulder for good measure, his fangs leaving deep marks. 

"Still enjoying yourself, bird?" 

"Yes, please go on." 

"As you wish." 

A chaotic coupling in the woods of Oromë wasn't quite what Gothmog had envisioned for this encounter, but he considered himself lucky. He had anticipated a more hostile and cautious reaction from Eönwë, certainly not to be asked to pretend to prey on him. 

And he would make the most out of it. 

Once he had successfully pinned his catch to the ground, he tore off his garments with his teeth. Eönwë watched him with a strange sort of tranquillity, dazed and intrigued by the display of monstrous ferocity, and it was a lovely sight. He was so sweet in Gothmog's eyes that he briefly considered eating him after all, but then he had a better idea. 

"Will you take me now, Hunter?" Eönwë asked demurely when the fire spirit rested his large head against his lower body, curiously nosing his hardening cock. 

"Better yet, you shall become a most delicious meal," Gothmog chuckled.

Not waiting for further questions, he placed Eönwë's legs on his broad shoulders, careful not to injure him with the sharp edges of the crystals growing on him, and dug his claws into the pliant flesh of his ass to reveal the tiny, twitching hole between his cheeks. 

He'll need some practice anyway if he ever wants to take a cock inside that, he thought and leaned forward to begin licking it. 

Eönwë's reaction was both immediate and intense. His heels dug into Gothmog's shoulders, his muscles tensed and trembled, and sounds so wonderfully obscene he hadn't thought them possible escaped his throat. 

"Yes, please, right there..." 

Only he would say please while getting eaten out by an Úmaia in a forest, Gothmog thought to himself, feeling a strange fondness budding and blooming in his chest. What a precious little bird he had caught himself, so different from the heroic persona crafted for the public eye. There was something intimate about seeing him like this. 

Even when presenting himself in such a lewd manner, Eönwë was so enticingly pure. The way he reacted to being touched this way made Gothmog wonder if it was his first time letting another enjoy his fána. His flesh tasted like fresh rain and smelled like a summer breeze, full of life, warmth and beauty, and every inch of it was as clean as if he had just returned from a thorough bath. 

Slowly but steadily, he worked his tongue inside. Eönwë was tight and despite his best efforts not quick to yield, yet Gothmog remained patient. His work was, however, brought to an early end when he felt muscles tense and was greeted with the sight of pearly white seed staining a heaving torso. 

Patting Eönwë's thigh, he withdrew and removed his legs from his shoulders. The prospect of fucking that tight little hole right then and there was tempting, but Gothmog decided to hold back. He had given his favourite bird a taste of bliss, just as he himself had tasted it, and hoped to have roused his curiosity enough that they could meet again in the future. 

Eönwë had turned his head to the side and hidden it underneath one wing, still panting heavily. 

"I am ready," he declared. 

"Not today, bird," Gothmog said. "Your hunter has had his meal and may in time return for another, should you wish it." 

"Y-yes... that would be nice." Eönwë wrapped his other wing around himself as well to complete a protective cocoon of sorts, shame hitting him hard now that his lust died down. 

Gothmog ruffled his feathers affectionately. "You're very pretty, and I don't mind you being a freak, if that is your concern."

"I am not–"

"Sure thing, bird.”

Thanks for reading! ♡

taglist: @angbangbaby @a-world-of-whimsy-5 @blauerregen @bluezenzennie @edensrose @elanna-elrondiel @eunoiaastralwings @i-did-not-mean-to @just-little-human @saintstars @singleteapot @urwendii @wandererindreams

[picklebunbun]

Hi, I saw you also do the happy tree friend character and I have a request about that if you don't mind, a Flippy/Fliqpy x sibling reader (platonic of course!) who talks in their sleep please ? Thank you if you doing it

Flippy/Fliqpy + sibling!gn! reader who talks in their sleep hcs

——————༻⁂✬♫✬⁂༺——————

hc or oneshot/series?: headcannons

gn reader, you/yours and gn pronouns

genre: fluff, could be a bit angsty if you’re an emotional person, some crack (the drug-)

romantic/platonic?: platonic

cw: mentions of violence/gore (but it’s flipqy too so what’d you expect)

(angel’s note🪽: I actually love this request, I luvvv platonic stories omg and htf so hehehehhe 🤭 we are leaving the scenerio at the end)

~~~

flippy hc:

he kind of gets it, usually sleep talking is due to stress but wow it really freaks him out

sometimes he hears you talk about your plan to destruct the whole world

“I’m going to bomb the U.N mimimimi💤💤😴“ “WHAT THE FU-“

but whenever he asks about it the next morning you always give him this poker face, insinuating that you had no idea you were talking about kill!ng political figures

it usually makes him stay awake at night, the things you talk about are freaky (has this sneaking suspicion that you might kill him- JKJKJK)

always gives you a glass of warm milk, it actually helps, you still sleep talk don’t get me wrong, but it’s less violent

he also bear hugs you (not intended to be a pun) while you sleep, you get very overheated

since he has random nightmares and wakes up at night, he always finds your voice comforting, just a nice reminder that you’re still there

flipqy hc:

just like flippy, he finds comfort in your voice since it’s an indicator that you’re still there. It helps him relax

he’ll accidentally claw your arms when he hugs you, you find some cuts the next morning (flippy had no idea it happens)

whenever you talk in the middle of the night, he screams, this man was TERRIFIED. He hid you in the bathroom because he thought someone was in the house

turns out it was just his sibling talking

he thought that you were possessed by something for a while, kept his distance but he still loved you dw

still shocked about what you say though

scenario:

italics: thinking, bold: yelling

Flippy was in the kitchen making you hot milk, he started doing this a couple of weeks ago. It’s actually helped, not with sleep talking but just calming the “weirdness” of it,

“here!”

Flippy gave you a sweet hot milk drink with a pinch of cinnamon

“thanks..”

you were already feeling sleepy before and the drink endorsed it even more. Flippy patted your head

“feeling sleepy yet?”

“yeah..”

Flippy grabbed your hand and guided you to the bed, he wrapped you around in a blanket making you nice and comfy. The lights turned off, and Flippy climbed into bed, hugging you tightly

-timeskip-

Flippy- or err.. Flipqy sat up panting, he was all sweaty, he had just gotten a nightmare. He looks at you and hears your voice “mm.. I never wanted the..mbbmm” or mumbles of your favorite animal in your dreams made him calmer.

Flipqy sighed, he was still very much stressed so he hugged you tightly while trying to ease his sorrow. He clawed your arms, but since you were so deep in REM, you didn’t really feel anything. Whatever, just sleep for now! ♡︎

(Idk if this was pretty short but if it is I’m sorryy I was in a bit of a rush (ᗒᗣᗕ)՞)

~~~

[detectivecarisi-1]

The Senator’s Daughter Chapter 2 (Bodyguard! Dave York x Female Reader

AN: Lol I am alive. Honestly, I am even surprised this took as long as it did, but I transferred from my old job teaching at a middle school (after a student threatened to stab me lol) and moved to a high school, so I had to completely restart my curriculum, which, if you’ve been following me, is why I’ve been having a bit of a mental breakdown as of lately. But being at the high school has been so much better for me, so I am finally back to writing! I appreciate you all for your patience, and if you’re reading this, thank you for coming back :) I am currently figuring out how to make a masterlist, so hopefully that gets up soon. I have alot of oneshots in mind for Din Djarin (my beloved) and Joel Miller… But we’ll see if I ever have the time to write those. I know there’s a ton of new people to the Pedro Pascal fandom so... that makes me a little nervous. But, stay tuned! Thank you again! - Megan 

Rating: M for language, and discussions of drugs and alcohol. Future chapters will be explicit, so 18+ ONLY!!! MINORS DNI\

Word Count: 2.5k 

Warnings: A lot of language (sorry, I have the mouth of a sailor, it’s hard to write without it), Eventual Smut (18+ FOR THE WHOLE SERIES), AFAB! Reader, HUGE divergence from canon, MeanDom!Dave York, Dom/Sub undertones, Brattysub!Reader, legal age gap relationship, Enemies to lovers, Mentions of drug/alcohol abuse, self-destructive behaviors, corrupt cops (probably only in this chapter), Politics lol, Minor violence (probably?), eventual mentions of parental abuse. 

Tags: @fatimaisabelpascal

If you’d like to be tagged in future chapters, feel free to dm me! 

________________________________________________________________

“Sir, yes, sir” she says before slipping into the connected bathroom to shower. Dave starts to turn away, to give her some form of privacy, but Senator Leland grabs him by the arm before they could leave. Dave watches, as the strict father act Leland was putting on earlier melts away, as he slumps against the wall near the bathroom door.

“I just… I wanna make sure she gets in okay.” Just like his daughter, Senator Leland looks completely different than how the news channels show him. Where she looks younger, and softer than the washed-up party girl TMZ shows, Till Leland looks more exhausted, and unsure of himself, compared to the confident, perfectly styled politician he saw on MSNBC. Dave, after years of service in the CIA, has a certain skill for reading people, and Dave doesn’t see Mr. Leland as a slimy, sure of himself politician, he just sees a tired father. His shirt is wrinkled, and the sleeves rolled up to his elbows, he looks exhausted, like he has been up all night. Mr. Leland stands, close to his daughter private bathroom, waiting for the sound of the shower to turn on, with one of his hands pinching the bridge of his nose.

Dave takes his time to look around the girl’s room. Just like the girl herself, her room is nowhere near what Dave would’ve expected. Despite the shoes in her bed, and the mascara stains on a pristine white pillowcase, her room is perfectly kept. She has a makeup desk, with a few photos of her smiling next to a small white dog. On a shelf above her bed, she has a collection of stuffed animals, each one seems to be placed carefully, with the smaller ones in the front and center, while the larger ones are arranged in a neat row behind them. He spots a bookshelf in the corner, with a few cookbooks, The Great Gatsby, and War and Peace, Dave raises his eyebrows, genuinely impressed when he spots a tasseled bookmark, sticking out of the book, she’s almost finished with it. Dave had expected her room to be a complete mess, with dirtied clothes, bottles of pills and alcohol, and the trash overflowing, but this is the room of a normal girl. She continues to defy his expectations.

Finally, the shower starts, and Dave watches the senator’s entire body relax with relief. Senator Leland turns to Dave, “You have kids, Dave?” Dave nods, “two girls.” The senator nods… “so you… understand what I’m trying to do. I just want to make sure she’s okay… I don’t know what else to do.”

Dave doesn’t respond. Dave would stop at nothing to ensure their safety and their health. Dave has killed for much less, but for his daughters? He would make anyone, anyone who even looks his daughter’s direction with a sense of malice, suffer until they are begging for him to kill them.

He looks at the senator, he sees a distraught father, desperate to save his little girl from her own self-destruction. Dave thinks… If this was his child, he would burn down every nightclub in the state and nail her door shut. Perhaps Till Leland’s plan is just a little more level-headed. Dave has never been the best at controlling his temper, so a he understands the Senator, sure, however, he still questions how things could’ve gotten this bad with the girl.

Dave simply sets his jaw, and nods.

The senator runs a hand through his hair, sniffs and turns to Dave, shifting back into the smooth-talking senator Dave met earlier that morning. “Let me show you around the house. I can show you where you’ll be staying.”

They leave the girl’s room, and Senator Leland leads Dave to a room, only across the hall from the girl’s room. Leland opens the door, revealing a simple, but still beautiful bedroom. There it’s painted a soft gray, with dark wood floors, clearly original with the house, Dave can tell they’re aged, even though they had clearly recently been polished. There is an oak desk along the front wall, and a queen-sized bed with a white comforter on the opposite wall, with a simple nightstand beside it. Senator Leland breaks the silence “It’s not much, I know. Before my dad passed he stayed here full time.” Leland opens a door in the back corner, “You have your own restroom, shower, bath, anything you need. Dave don’t hesitate to ask for anything else. I know this job isn’t the same as a simple celebrity escort. I want to make sure you are well taken care of, so you can take the best care of my daughter.”  

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You step out of the shower, confused, and more hungover than you’ve been in your life. You look in the mirror, and oh great you look just as fucked up as you feel. Incredible. Thinking back to the mysterious “Mr.York”  in your room, you feel the heat of embarrassment warming the back of your neck… 

No big deal, just saw the hottest man I’ve ever seen, and what a great first impression, vomiting in a trashcan… things could be worse… hopefully.

 You look in the mirror, trying to piece together the night before, attempting to shake the weight of shame, and embarrassment that’s currently making you want to melt into the cool tile of the bathroom floor. It only worsens when you remember the look on your father’s face, he hasn’t looked that disappointed since… well ever. Some shit went down last night and its driving you crazy that you can’t remember a thing.

“Whatever… can’t get worse than this.”

You throw on some clean pajamas and stumble downstairs.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

As you enter the dining room, you spot Mr. York and your father, facing the stairwell, looking like something out of a sitcom’s “intervention” episode. If you weren’t so nervous, (and not insane) you would consider looking for a camera.

You get your first, clear-headed look at Mr. York, and, somehow, he's even more attractive when you’re (mostly) sober. You feel a little insecure, seeing him so perfectly put together and unaffected, and here you are, with your knees turning to jell-o.

Despite your distraction with Mr. York, you can still feel the tension in the air.

You walk up to your father and wrap him in a hug, that he doesn’t return, “Morning, old man. What’s the deal? Polling numbers down?” Your dad chuckles dryly “yeah, well, they’re about to be at least.”

His voice is raspy, he sounds exhausted. You hate that he feels like this, and, although you’re not exactly a genius, you know it’s somehow because of you.

You raise an eyebrow, and plop down on the seat across from your father… You pretend to think deeply for a moment, before gasping, “Oh, shit, they found out you did acid at a Nirvana concert in 91’?” you ask, trying desperately to lighten the mood.

“It was the Smashing Pumpkins, sweetheart, you know this. But no, that secret is locked away.” He smiles, and for a moment, he seems like it's just a normal morning, and that everything, deep down, is okay. But his face falls again, and he reaches across the table to grab your hand. “Honey… I love you very much, you know?”

Oh shit. This is bad, this is really bad.

You feel the color drain from your face, and your blood turns cold. You don’t trust your own voice to come out without squeaking, so you just give your dad a nervous smile.

 “You… you got arrested last night. You were found passed out in front of a nightclub, and when the cops came to help you up… you dropped a small bag of pills.” He refuses to meet your eyes, he’s chewing his lip, and takes a deep breath before he continues, “If it weren’t for the fact that Office Benson was on the scene, you would’ve been charged. Benson owes me a favor so, he confiscated the pills and let you off the hook, but honey… you had Percocet on you. Where did you even get them?”

Your head is swimming. This makes no sense, you would never, ever, get hooked on meds like that. Alcohol? You admit you tend to overindulge, but opioids? No. No way, never in a million years. You’re trying to make sense of this situation in your head, trying to figure out how to explain to your dad that you would never, you could never do that to yourself, or him. You’re shaking your head, and tears you refuse to let fall start to burn your eyes… All is made a little worse when you look up at Mr. York, who is staring at you with the coldest eyes you’ve ever seen on a man. He’s judging your every move, he looks disgusted by you. You make eye contact, hoping he’ll soften up, but no, he just stares you down until you nervously look away.

You turn to your father, hoping that he starts laughing and this is just some sick tactic to make you straighten up, but he instead looks at you with red eyes, and “Honey, I’m just so worried about you… I can’t lose you.”

Fuck… you need a drink.

Everything, from the very moment you woke up, has just been too much. You want to leave, go to some shitty bar downtown, take a couple shots, numb these feelings that are currently making that sour taste at the back of your throat return, and maybe then you can have a civil conversation.

But it's 9am and your dad would probably die of a broken heart in front of you.

Or worse, Mr. York looks like he could kill you himself.

Instead, you resort to trying to talk, your voice warbled the tears you apparently can no longer hold back, “but… I don’t do drugs, dad, you gotta believe me I… I don’t do drugs.” Maybe if you weren’t so overwhelmed, things may have been a little more eloquent, but all things considered, you’re pretty proud of yourself for getting through that in one piece. Considering how much you feel. You feel like a child, you’re embarrassed, and scared, and… you can’t even begin to figure out how to process this. 

Your dad straightens up a little, and he clears his throat a little.

“I know, honey, I know. They did a drug test, last night at the station, you’re cleanBut someone gave these to you, and you took them. You’re losing yourself, honey, you may not see it now, but I have to watch you slowly destroy yourself, I can’t do it anymore.” He stops for a second and presses the heels of his hands into his eyes, takes a deep breath, and like he’s presenting a new bill to the Senate floor he says, “honey, you have now made it clear to me that you cannot control yourself. This is no longer a simple rebellious phase.You may not see it, but I know are going to end up killing yourself and dragging me down with you if you keep going like this. You have shown me that I cannot trust you to stop, and that you will push things further and further with no regard for yourself or others. So, this is Dave York, he’s going to be your bodyguard until after the election.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Okay, so maybe you could have handled your response better. But fuck this. Fuck Percocet, mega-fuck the person who gave them to you, and seriously fuck Mr. York.

After your dad broke the news that Mr. York was essentially going to be following you around, no privacy at all, to make sure you’re in, what your dad calls, “in a better place mentally and physically”, it’s all a blur of you screaming, “fuck that”, “absolutely not”, “I’m not a fucking child”, and “I’ll do what I fucking want”. Your dad, during your (admitted) tantrum, argued back trying to reason with you, but even more infuriating, Mr. York just sat, watching you with those cold, judging eyes. His lack of response only makes you angier, you want to affect him, you want to see him get up, and tell you to get over yourself, or explain why him being your bodyguard is great, hell, even if he just laughs and agrees with you, that would’ve been better than him sitting, completely still, while you have a complete breakdown in front of him.

After your dad yelled “I won’t let you kill yourself this way, you hear me?” you just… gave up. Stormed upstairs, where you are currently screaming into your pillow.

You fuck up one time, and all of the sudden you lose all your privacy?

Okay, sure, maybe this isn’t the “one time” you fucked up. But you’re 21 years old living in Virginia Beach, where there’s literally nothing else to do except go out and drink till you blackout, but, who even cares?

You’re losing your mind. You’re shaking, and crying, and, screaming in the pillow did nothing to help the very apparent emotional break you’re currently experiencing.

Nah, fuck this.

You walk over to your dresser and pull out the flask you take with you to clubs sometimes, you’re not even sure what this is filled with anymore, and honestly?  You don’t even care. You need to calm your nerves, and you’d take a shot of fucking rubbing alcohol right now if it was offered to you.

You’re about to take a sip, about to let whatever this mystery liquor is burn down your throat, to soothe your nerves…

“I’m going to need you to put that down.”

That’s… definitely not your father’s voice. And of course, as if he appeared torment you further, you see Mr. York casually standing in the entrance of your room, shutting the door quietly behind him.

How did he even get in here so quietly?

“Fuck off, Mr. York.” You roll your eyes, “I’m in my own room, I’m not hurting anyone, get off my back.”

He doesn’t respond, just stands and watches you, like he knows that enough to make you break.

He’s right.

“Jesus Christ! I don’t need this! I don’t need a ‘bodyguard’! I don’t need you! What I need is to just… fucking calm down I can’t think straight, and I’d be a hell of a lot better if it weren’t for you standing here like a fucking serial killer. Get out!” You’re screaming at him, of course having your second temper tantrum of the morning.

And just like always, he just stands there, his arms crossed, not the slightest bit moved by your outburst.

“Are you all done?”

You laugh bitterly, “fuck you. Mr. York.” You look up at him, challenging him to say something back to you, to finally acknowledge your frustration.

He shrugs, “the little temper tantrum you put on downstairs not enough for you? Had to do it again? Are you so pissed off that you didn’t get your way? You think you can just scream your way out if it? Keep trying, maybe eventually it’ll work.” He’s leaning against your bedroom door, and he said that all like he was just reading the forecast for the week. He doesn’t even sound mad, just annoyed, as if the very fact he has to speak to you is an inconvenience to him.

Okay… so maybe him just standing there is better than him being affected by you, when he just stood there, it was a lot less embarrassing, hurt a little less. He’s staring at you, with his hand held out, waiting for you to pass over the flask, “you gonna hand that over to me or do I need to take it from you.”

You hand him the flask and get back in bed.

[mintywolf]

So okay here are the notes on my overly-intricate, still-unwritten CR Daemon AU

The catalyst was mainly me thinking about how absolutely unsettling Pâté would be in a universe where everyone has talking animal companions that are an extension of their soul. Matilda lost hers (a rat named Patter), so the major part of everyone’s fear and distrust of her is not that she looks off, but an instinctive, soul-deep dread and disgust because she has no daemon.* So, to blend in better and to alleviate her own crushing loneliness, Laudna (who has renamed herself because she doesn’t feel like the same person anymore without him) started carrying around a dead rat and pretending he talks. :(

(*apparently.)

And Imogen is the first person in a very long time to regard her with compassion rather than horror. She’s still weirded out by her lack of daemon but once she finds out how she lost him she’s very upset and angry on her behalf. Her daemon (a tressym) is more sympathetic than she is at first and wants to approach and comfort her because she’s so distressed that Laudna doesn’t have a daemon, about which Imogen is initially a little jealous, but once it sinks in for her how absolutely lonely she’s been and for how long (and maybe after they’ve gotten to know each other a little better unless this is like, how they came to understand each other’s soul so well) Imogen’s daemon voluntarily breaks the taboo by letting Laudna touch her. (Out of politeness she also gives Pâté a little nose boop but he kind of freaks her out.)

Now originally this was just going to be a sweet little oneshot about Imogen and her daemon finding a daemon-less weirdo in her garden shed and showing her the first kindness she’s seen in 30 years but I am just incapable of NOT getting overly involved in the Briarwoods backstory, haha.

Sooo back in Vox Machina era Ripley, under the Briarwoods, was doing experiments on Dust and daemons and discovered that the burst of energy released by severing someone from their daemon could be used to open a temporary gate into another world. They pointed her research in that direction, intending to use that power to draw the Whispered One into Exandria. Meanwhile Delilah, intrigued by the severing, started doing experiments of her own on unsuspecting castle staff and citizens of Whitestone. The subjects that didn’t die immediately without their daemons became obedient, soulless thralls that were easy to command, if short-lived (so this is this universe’s equivalent of necromancy) but it wasn’t quite what she was looking for. She wanted to become immortal by separating her daemon (a wolf* ) from herself so that it could travel far distances from her and persist after her death to attach itself to a new vessel. (*originally I had Delilah’s daemon as a pine marten because despite having read the books numerous times I always forget that Pan doesn’t settle as an ermine, he ends up a pine marten too. I chose it because they are elegant and auburn and devious and apparently have a pleasant scent. But it’s kind of a rare animal in fiction so I didn’t want to copy the book that closely even in an au based on it. A wolf is kind of a too-generic animal for her but there’s a reason it’s a wolf.) So poor Matilda and the others were invited to the castle “for study,” which led her to believe that Delilah had taken an interest in her magical abilities and was going to become her tutor but alas. :( The other six and their daemons in the study died outright and though Matilda survived the severing, Patter died shortly afterwards, so Delilah, getting impatient because of the approach of VM, considered her a failed attempt and abandoned her, not realizing that Matilda’s own magic had caused her Dust to cling to her and retained some scraps of her personality and agency so she was more than an empty husk like the other thralls.

Making some final adjustments, she tried it again on Cassandra de Rolo, and this time it worked. Cass was severed from her daemon, which survived, leaving Cass under Delilah’s control while she had her daemon imprisoned. Finally she performed the severing on herself, but her magic and its resentment at being parted from her caused her own daemon to become corrupted by the ritual. (So idk maybe it even started out as a pine marten but ended up . . . that. Vax’s daemon started out as a snake but changed into a raven when he became the Matron’s champion and Percy’s daemon was mutated by Orthax so settled daemons being forced into a new shape under extreme duress is possible in this au. I kind of like the wolf —> Hound of Ill Omen foreshadowing though.) Meanwhile VM were on their way. Percy knew that Ripley was doing some kind of nefarious Science under the Briarwoods but they didn’t know exactly what yet. Then they were suddenly attacked by an extremely messed up looking wolf, which took back Delilah’s stolen grimoire and escaped and they were all like wtfffff because they’d never seen a daemon without a person nearby before and it’s extremely unsettling. Especially one that looks like THAT. So they knew something bad was going on in Whitestone even before they got there and saw all the daemon-less people shambling around pathetically. So even though the plan to open a gate for the Whispered One was foiled (temporarily) by VM, her other experiment worked — she was able to send her daemon far away from herself before she was killed and it moved on to her clones, prolonging her life for another year. After Vox Machina finally burned through all of those as well it went off in search of a new vessel and eventually found Laudna but, unable to bond with her like a regular daemon, it forced its way in. So her Hound of Ill Omen is Delilah’s old daemon, gnawing at her ribs, resentful of Delilah for separating them but resentful of her for not being Delilah, whispering promises of power if she will just accept it as her own.

[obscurecharactershowdown]

Group D Round 3

[image ID: the first image is of a profile for Silver, stylized as a popup on an old school desktop. she has pale skin, red hair, and red eyes. she's wearing a black bodysuit and silver armor with blue, glowing trim. the text of her profile is partially cut off, but what is visible reads: "Met: Barrens / The Barren's head engineer, a rather morose robot living alone near the mines. It's her duty to oversee operations and maintenance of the world's industrial heart, where metals and resources are pulled from the earth's clutches and rendered into usable goods. / ...at least, that's how things used to be. Since the evacuation, only a few active--" below this text is several small, full body renders of Silver. the second image is a gif of Gary, a man outlined in simple, animated red lines against a black background. the only other color is the white of his eyes. he has a short beard and he's wearing a hooded robe. end ID]

Silver

Silver is a robot who fucked up because she wasn't properly tamed (In oneshot, taming is the idea that a robot can be taught to act beyond its baseline programming by forming a relationship with someone). She went rogue because of contradictions in her code that she couldn't resolve. Her creator, who based Silver on herself, eventually fixed her, but the damage was done and Silver had to be relocated to a remote mining facility for political reasons.

Gary

I've seen John in ONE poll but I haven't seen Gary at all. Gary is the main antagonist in the games and is a normal human being just like you and me. Actually he's a demon, and trying to summon the antichrist. He can also summon spiders! Over and over again. And remember, Gary loves you! [additional propaganda 1]

[angeygirl]

Whumpuary 3 - "This is going to hurt"

Crying Child Weekend Bash - Blood/Fun

2 for 1 deal (TW for animal death/animal cruelty)

(Spoilers for Act 2 of the Crying Killer AU)

In his attempts to find something worthwhile to say about all three of this offspring, Father only said two things about Evan, 'he's awfully polite' and 'quiet people are good listeners.' Evan was proving the second point quite well. He could hear everything, the slush beneath his shoes, the wind rattling the barren tree branches, even the chattering of this own teeth But his ears were trained on another sound, the sound of rattling metal.

The cage had been left out overnight, and a day later, the trapped prey was still fighting to find a way out of the bars. Evan stepped closer and looked down. It was a rat, a pretty scrawny one. Hmm, well, it was better then nothing.

He knelt next to the cage. "There's no use in all that." Evan had gone so long without using his voice that words felt foreign on his tongue.

"This is going to hurt, but look at you. If I didn't do it, the cold would."

The rat snapped its teeth.

Was it the natural way he spoke, or did some part of him want to comfort the creature? Evan looked at the rat and saw an equal. His brother was a fox hunting a squirrel, but this? This would be fair. It was going to hurt, but...

What Evan did next was perfectly fair.

This was how big kids had fun, after all. This was perfectly normal. Never mind how the thing squealed, never mind how it bit in vain against Father's work gloves made for protection against fire and steel. Never mind all the blood in the snow.

Maybe it was fun not holding back. Maybe it was fun winning without a single scratch. Maybe it was fun to be in control, dominant. Maybe it was fun to make the thing hurt.

Evan moved the trap away from the bloody site and reset it. Then he trekked back home, still listening to the chattering of his teeth and the wind in the branches and the slush under this shoes. Father's gloves were so dirty with soot and grease that a new stain wouldn't be noticed, but Evan took a shower to get the blood off if himself.

It was odd, he supposed to be standing in a half full tub of icy, reddened water fully clothed, but it was a necessity. He had only gotten a bit on his jeans, but was it worth the risk? Who knew what diseases the thing might have had. Besides, this was a sort of cleansing ritual. When he was a child the sight of a scraped knee was enough to panic him, but now? He could do so much worse.

Did he enjoy it? Was it fun? He didn't know. It was only rats and squirrels for now.

Vermin, like him.

-------

Hope I did both prompts thoroughly enough. I'm actually really liking getting to write mini-oneshots to go with the drawings.

@whumpuary

@and-stir-the-stars

[secretswiftymarvelfan]

The Interview Series: Agree to Disagree - Chris Evans x Reader

A/N: Not all opinions in this oneshot reflect my own views

Summary: After working on an animated movie together, you finally get to meet your co-star and find out exactly how much you agree on.

Pairing:  Chris Evans x British!Actress!Reader

Word Count: 1.8k

Warnings: Fluff! Dialogue Heavy! Mention of current political climate!

Dividers by @firefly-graphics​

Masterlist 

You had to admit you were slightly nervous this morning. It was the first day of the UK press tour and today was the first day you’d be meeting your co-star. Because that was the way with animated movies, you’d spend your time in the recording booth all alone with only the director and technicians. Sometimes you’d hear your co-star's voice if they’d already taped their section of the conversation, but you’d never meet them.

 So far during the press tour, you’d either been alone for the interviews, or you’d been with other members of the cast. You’d yet to meet your fellow lead actor, the guy who voiced your character's love interest, the one and only Chris Evans.

 You had to admit you had a teeny tiny crush on the man that once played Captain America, and you were worried that he’d never meet the expectations you had in your head because they do say never meet your heroes. Yet you were pleased to report that Chris lived up to every expectation, he was the perfect gentleman and you’ve never had so much fun doing interviews. And this was him suffering from Jetlag, leaving you to wonder what he’d be like fully energised.

In the few hours you’d spent together, it felt like you’d already established some good foundations for a friendship, however that could be about to crumble with the next interview.

 “is it weird that I feel nervous?” you say as you sit down at the agree to disagree table.

 Chris chuckles as he sits down “why are you nervous?” he asks.

 “I mean we’ve only known each other a day, what if we end up disagreeing over something that destroys this friendship,” you say gesturing between the two of you.

 “you guys have only just met?” the director of the shoot asks surprised.

 “Yeah, that’s the thing with animated movies, you do all your parts alone and don’t meet anyone until the press or the premier” Chris explains nodding his head.

 “Yeah and I had to skip the LA premier because I was so poorly, I think I ate some dodgy plane food,” you say with a small grimace.

 “It's a good thing these guys know how to pull together a good cast, imagine if you had to do press with a diva or something,” Chris says shaking his head.

 “well….” You say your voice high as you tilt your head side to side.

 “oh is that how it is?” Chris asks laughing, you just smirk and wink back at him.

 “okay we’ll start off easy: stealing movie set props is totally normal” the director reads out “3, 2, 1”

 Both you and Chris instantly move your glasses over to the strongly agree sections of the table.

 “I mean I haven’t done it myself” you smirk making Chris laugh “but I mean if somehow things find their way back to my place then who am I to say anything?” you say holding your hands up.

“Totally, I mean I’m just into theft in general” Chris states shrugging his shoulder.

“yeah I mean finder’s keepers” you laugh, Chris nodding along with you.

“what have you stolen?” the director asks.

“Everything!” Chris says shaking his head.

“hearts, mind and souls” you laugh.

Chris grins nodding his head “oh yeah definitely hearts” he smirks.

“okay next one: I am excellent at karaoke” the director reads out.

You move your glass straight to the strongly disagree while Chris moves his to the agree section.

“whoa, whoa, whoa hold up! I call bullshit!” Chris exclaims pointing to your glass.

“I am terrible! Absolutely terrible!” you laugh shaking your head.

“no you are not,” Chris says pointing over at you “I’ve seen that video of in that karaoke bar with Scarlett”

“she showed you that!” you exclaim in disbelief.

“Yup, and you brought the house down!” Chris exclaims “you can sing, very well in fact, much better than me”

You shake your head in disbelief, not only at the fact Scarlett showed him that video, but that he remembered it well enough to bring it up and compliment you’re singing abilities.

“she’s a traitor, I will be having words” you state shaking your head.

“Next question: the US office is better than the UK office” the director reads out.

Once again you and Chris are on opposite sides of the table, you firmly on strongly disagree while he’s on strongly agrees.

“well you’re just wrong” Chris states shaking his head.

“no I’m not, the OG office will always be superior, I’ll admit the US office is better than other copycat shows but you guys just don’t understand our humour and repeatedly murder our beloved shows” you argue.

“isn’t imitation the best form of flattery?” Chris points out, arching a brow.

“Not when you take everything that’s good and completely disregard it, and create the monstrosities you guys make” you state firmly.

Chris nods his head “agree to disagree?” he asks holding his hand out.

You throw your head back laughing “deal” you say shaking his hand.

“Next question, Captain America has the suit of any superhero” the director reads out.

You move your glass to the agree, while Chris moves his to disagree.

“I have to disagree, of course, I’m a little biased, but we have to play by our truths” Chris starts “it's not the best suit”

“I mean it's not the best overall but I think it’s a pretty good suit” you argue.

“it’s the suit that's best for him, and it works for him, but if we’re measuring against all the avengers, it's not the best suit, they’re all better than his” Chris says shaking his head.

“I guess, does good things for your tooshie though” you point out making Chris laugh.

“my tooshie?” he laughs.

“Yup,” you nod smiling back at him.

“Next question: American football is better than Rugby” the director reads out

You and Chris move your glasses to opposite ends of the table, him strongly agreeing, you strongly disagreeing.

“I mean of course we’ve grown up watching different sports, and I just don’t understand American football, you don’t even use your feet!” you say.

Chris laughs shrugging his shoulders “I mean nobody’s perfect”

“I did use to preach that American football was more dangerous but then I did see a six nations match, and all these guys are massive and the tackles are insane” Chris explains.

“yeah they could rip you in half, and we don’t wear any padding” you point out.

“True, true” Chris nods “I just grew up on American football and I don’t understand Rugby enough to enjoy it,” Chris says shrugging his shoulders.

“Exactly, and I think with any sport if you don’t understand the rules of it, you will never enjoy it” you agree.

“Definitely, tell you what, let's watch them together and explain the rules to each other” Chris suggests pointing between the two of you.

“deal” you nod shaking his hand.

“Next question: A difference in political views is a red flag,” the director says.

You keep your glass on the neutral line while Chris moves his to the agree “I think this is kinda the UK vs US again” you say gesturing to the glasses “cause here in the UK while there is a political divide, its nothing like the US”

“Right,” Chris says nodding along.

“Like I have liberal political views, but some of my best friends are tory voters, we have different views of how the country should be run and where the money should go but when it comes to the big things like basic human rights we generally agree” you explain “that being said I would never be able to date someone who’s political views infringe on people’s basic human rights, abortion and gay rights”

“yeah I completely agree with that, small differences are fine but with issues like that you kinda have to agree if you wanna move forward together,” Chris says nodding his head.

“okay we’ll go a little lighter for the next one: the British accent is the sexiest” the director reads out.

“I don’t think we’ve agreed once,” you say as you move your glass to disagree and Chris moves his to agree.

Chris laughs shaking his head “only once so far, but I mean your accent is pretty sexy I have to say” he says his voice deepening as he leans forward.

“I mean I guess it’s alright,” you say shrugging your shoulders.

“It's very sophisticated, but not I poop on a golden toilet posh,” Chris says making you laugh loudly.

“Thanks, but saying British accent is too broad, and not all of them are sexy,” you say shaking your head “you have the scouse, Geordie, Brummie, west country accents that are generally a lot harsher and less melodic than the British accent you hear on screen, I mean I know I hide a lot of my accent because it doesn’t translate well to screen” you explain.

“Really?” Chris asks surprised.

“Yeah I mean I wasn’t born there but I spent a lot of my life in the west country, so you pick up phrases and pronunciations, if I spend too much time over there I go full farmer” you chuckle.

“Now that is something id like to see” Chris laughs.

“And I mean your accent,” you say before whistling “damn sexy, it's no wonder they cast you in this movie,” you say making Chris laugh loudly.

“Okay, last one: cats are better than dogs,” the director says, both you and Chris moving your glasses to the disagree.

“hey look we’re finally agreeing again!” you exclaim pointing to the glasses.

Chris smiles warmly over at you, nodding his head “I’m not gonna strongly disagree because I respect cats, they’re beautiful animals but I’d rather have a dog” 

“same, I feel like a dog just wants to be your friend while you really have to work with cats, gain their respect,” you say nodding your head.

“which is respectable, to be honest, gotta earn their trust,” Chris says nodding his head.

“exactly, but even then, you can feed them every day of their lives and they still don’t wanna be in the same room as you” you point out shaking his head.

“Yeah, they’re assholes” Chris states making you laugh loudly.

The director then called cut, allowing you and Chris to stand back up and start making your way offset.

“Okay I have one more question,” Chris says putting his hand on your arm to stop you “I enjoy spending time with the person next to me, and want to spend more time together”

You smile up at him “strongly agree”

“good me too, follow up question I want to spend my time after the premier tonight getting drinks with the person opposite me” Chris grins looking down at you, his eyes making you melt.

“strongly, strongly agree” you grin nodding your head, biting your lower lip slightly.

“Great, it’s a date” Chris winks.

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