#if the answer is no then don't fucking say anything

[shouyuus]

VI FROM ARCANE WITH PILLOWPRINCESS READER?!?! PLEASEEE ILL TAKE ANYTHING DUDEEE 🙏🙏🙏🙏

send me vi thirsts and i'll give u my hand in marriage

yes bc i feel like she'd love this lowkey midkey AND highkey bc vi's love language is def like 50/50 acts of service and physical touch and she'd love the fact that you trust her so much w/ ur pleasure, the fact that she gets to have this control, and you're always so obedient for her, always asks for permission -- the first time she'd gotten you to the edge and you'd sunk your fingers into her hair, thrashing beneath her, but still forcing yourself to look up at her with your big, watery eyes, asking --

"p-please v-vi -- can -- can i?"

she knew that she was done for like done for, the way she knew if she said no, you'd listen. the thought had made her head feel woozy, so much so that her fingers had almost paused inside you, and you'd keened, thighs squeezing around her wrist bc you were so, so close.

"holy shit -- yeah, sweetness -- fuck, yeah, come for me --"

and it's not like she doesn't know how much you like it when she manhandles you a bit; she likes it too, she likes it alot actually, how she can jerk you down the length of the bed, press your knees up all the way to your shoulders, wrap her fingers around your neck, or just hold you down and kiss you till you're shaking apart beneath her.

she likes too that all she has to do is say the word, and you'd drop to your knees for her, pliant and willing, your lips falling open for her fingers or her cunt, how you'd make these happy little mewling noises when buried between her legs, so long as she got a hand on your head, a thumb rubbing your cheek.

"do you... do you ever wish i'd do more... stuff?" you ask one day, crinkling your nose, frowning absently down at vi's hair as you braid the longer bits into a single plait, only to tug it loose and do it all over again.

vi glances over her shoulder, "more... stuff?"

"yeah like... be more active when we're, y'know --"

vi laughs, tugging you into her lap, "if you're asking if i'm happy with our sex life, sweetness, the answer is yes, very."

you sigh, nodding even as you tuck your nose into her curve of her neck.

"okay. just asking."

she runs her thumbs against your skin, drawing circles into your waist.

"why? are you happy with it?"

you nod so hard that you almost topple out of her arms, but she catches you, grinning. "yeah! of course i am!"

"then, what's the problem, princess?"

"nothing! just..."

"c'mon pretty, spit it out," she takes your chin between a thumb and forefinger, giving your face a tiny shake. your breath hitches; satisfaction unfurls in vi's chest.

"i saw something online about -- how being too passive isn't a good thing and --"

"ooookay, i'm gonna cut you off right there --" she hoists you up, twisting you around so you're straddling her lap, your face now parallel to hers. she loves the way you're so easy to read, loves that you don't hide your attraction to her, how all she has to do is twitch her lips and you're already gasping.

"open your mouth for me, pretty girl," she says, and you do, your mouth dropping open as she swipes a thumb along your bottom lip before pushing it forward till it's resting on your tongue. you whine softly, hips shifting, but you hold still till she nods her head, "go on, suck."

you close your lips immediately, your tongue laving at the pad of her thumb. she lets out a clipped groan, watching. a few seconds later, she pulls it out with a light pop, grinning as she tracks the slick finger down your chin, tracing up the line of your jaw till she's got her hand cupping the back of your neck.

"that feel very passive to you?"

your lashes flutter, confusion gathering in your eyes before you lick your lips, blush, and give your head a tiny shake. she smiles.

"good answer. so? are we good now, princess?"

"yeah. we are."

"good!" she gives you a quick kiss, patting your hip, "what'dyou want for dinner? i'm thinkin'... it's been a while since we've been to jericho's."

you pout, "what about that other place we've been talking about?"

"what on the wharfside docks?"

"yeah...?"

vi rolls her eyes, even as she sits up and motions for you to get up. you jump up with a bright smile. she sighs, folding her arms.

"go get dressed. ugh, passive -- dunno what you were thinkin' when you asked me that princess."

[just-sg]

The other day I was helping a friend (19) figure out how to set up a PayPal and he said it wasn't available, so I assumed he was getting a "not available in your country" type of error. When I looked on PayPal and it said they supported that currency, I assumed it was his ISP blocking him.

Anyway a little later we figured out that when he said "not available" he meant he couldn't find an app on the Google Play Store. "... Did you try the actual website in a browser?" He had not. It worked. He has a PayPal now. (There was also an app downloadable from the site itself.)

That's meant as kind of a Funny Story but honestly I'm...

I'm not trying to judge Kids These Days, I'm just genuinely baffled. I would think "no one taught them" but who... who really taught the average Millennial, or the older end of Gen Z? I was like 6 years old helping my grandpa figure out how to use a computer that was also new to me, and I know that experience isn't nearly universal but it also wasn't rare. And maybe-- hopefully?-- this is based on limited evidence and stereotypes. Maybe the reality isn't as bad as it looks/feels.

But so often I see people say "I don't see X" or "I don't know how to do Y" and then... leave it at that? And I'm sure planned obsolescence and lack of resilience with a lot of modern tech is at least some factor, making it harder to Fuck Around And Find Out without fear of breaking something, and of course it's a lot of things adding up, not just one clear answer.

But c'mon Zoomers. You all have so much passion. You don't have to go major in computer science, just when you run into a thing you'd like to do and don't know how, get in the habit of looking it up. Yes Google has gotten worse, but there are other search engines and Google is also still serviceable for a lot of stuff if you ignore the AI at the top. (Please ignore the AI.) And there's YouTube tutorials for almost anything now! Seek the knowledge, learn the things, fuck around and find out, and learn new and interesting ways to fuck around and find out. 🙏 You guys can become so powerful, I believe in you.

Telling young zoomers to "just switch to linux" is nuts some of these ipad kids have never even heard of a cmd.exe or BIOS you're throwing them to the wolves

[elsecrytt]

you fucking hate your job.

unfortunately, you also need it.

some old money family hires you to play housekeeper for their weird ass son. satoru gojo, you think.

he's handsome. just looking at him is a treat; stark white hair, bright blue eyes, a face like an actual idol.

and then he opens his mouth. illusion ruined.

whatever. you don't care that much about his "wow! you really didn't dress up for work, huh?" and "so, let me guess... no boyfriend?" you’ve dealt with worse.

you'd been excited when you got this job. you're broke. the pay is great. you're ready to do anything to not get fired.

you keep the apartment completely spotless, despite how many candy wrappers and packages he leaves around, the disaster that is his stupid fancy bathroom. 

seriously, who leaves soap and shampoo everywhere like that? who jerks off in the shower that often? throws towels around and knocks bottles and toothbrushes over? it's like he's trying to leave a mess.

you do his laundry, which he just leaves on the floor like a goddamn animal. there's some clothes with gross, crusty white on them.

one time, you'd caught him staring at you while you picked it up, smirking all the while.

this is the guy you’re being paid to look after. and you’re fucking trying! god, do you ever try!

you cook meals from scratch, hours-long, intensive processes. you check his fridge, shamelessly dig through his garbage to see what he likes and try to make things he'll enjoy.

he leaves empty boxes of takeout on the counter, your homemade dinner in the trash, untouched.

it's in your contract. you can't not cook for him. and you can't eat anything, either, not when you're terrified of getting fired and he obviously likes to make you miserable.

and your landlord just informed you last month - rent will be going up. and not by a small amount.

you'd just finished digging yourself out of one hole and life kicks you right back down.

you don't know how you're going to make rent this month. fuck, you don't even know what you're going to have for dinner. if you can afford dinner. if you can even afford to put the heat on tonight.

it's not even a question. obviously the answer is no.

sitting on the plush, luxury couch in gojo’s apartment, you bury your head in your hands, and cry.

maybe you can get another job? but there's only so many hours in the day. you're so fucking sick of working all the time. you already do.

is it too much to ask for life to cut you a fucking break?

"what's wrong?" your least favorite voice interrupts - and a hand on your shoulder, shaking you, none-too-gently.

"don't tell me..." there's that smugness, "are you cryin'?"

"sorry, i just need a minute." you say, swallowing your anger to look him in the eyes. "i just got some bad news. my landlord is raising the rent next month."

"oh?" his tone is only getting worse, "so what? just move out. or get some roommates, or whatever you poor people do."

god, the fucking mouth on this man.

"soooo? sounds like poor planning on your part," satoru says, casually leaning onto the edge of the couch, "i just don't get why you're crying about it. like, that's kinda pathetic, you know?" he snickers -

SLAP

dead silence. a sting on your hand. satoru's face bent to the side. you don't even regret it. not right now, as angry as you are.

"you-" a rant is just about to spring from your lips, and then -

satoru grabs your hands, pulling them into his, right in front of his face.

his cheeks are dusted red. pretty eyes wide and dilated, fixed on you. mouth twisted in a grin.

you glance down to the front of his pants, where a noticeable bulge has formed.

"do it again."

[revolutionsingingintherainnn]

Hi.. don't know if you do part 2 but if you do.. can you like write a sequel to curling iron where fans are really eager to know why the girls call him "curling iron" so they lando during signing and meet and greet but he just shakes his head and diverts the topic till during one of quadrant video, max f asks lando what's the curling iron as everyone is asking so lando tells him (while they were recording) and when interview is released media goes crazy.. maybe little SMAU too.. thankyou and sorry if this is too complex.. xoxo

Curling Iron pt. 2 ˏˋ°•*⁀➷

⌗ ln x reader 🦋⃟

⌗ fluff + humour (?) 🦋⃟

masterlist ☾☼

curling iron pt.1

lily and carmen's comment on her last instagram post blew up. while everyone in the inner circle only referred to lando as curling iron, none of the fans had any idea what it meant.

some speculated that lando doesn't actually have curly hair, and used a curling iron everyday. that became a joke amongst all of lando and y/n's friends. some speculated that lando just did something stupid, and it was a running joke between the 2019 rookies and their friends.

y/n did kind of agree with that, since she was the something stupid he did. when she'd said that out loud, not meaning for anyone else to hear her, lando had laughed and then pulled her to the bedroom to do her again.

the las vegas grad prix had organised a little meet and greet, where fans could come and meet the drivers, take pictures, just chat for a minute or two. lando loved doing such things. it always made him feel a lot closer to his fans, and he got to meet genuine people.

it was inevitable really that the question would come up. lando should have expected it, but he hadn't been prepared.

a group of girls were at his table, where he was seated, and signing all the things they gave him. one of them had the courage and finally asked him, "can we ask you something?"

"of course," lando was more than happy to answer any question.

"um, why is your nickname 'curling iron'? george and alex mentioned it in the compliments video too,"

george sitting at the next table burst out laughing, and lando muttered a small, "shut the fuck up," as he smiled and tried to answer.

"i just did some...thing. it was just like, a little joke between us." lando stammered.

"say it, say it, say it!" george was chanting from the table beside him.

lando threw a pen at his friend, "shut up!"

turning back to the girls, he quoted his girlfriend, "i just did something stupid, and that became a nickname. it's not anything important, really,"

he diverted the topic quickly, talking about the mini helmet that the girl had given him to sign.

the teasing hadn't stopped, on social media and otherwise. george, alex, lily, carmen, and his own girlfriend had officially renamed him as 'curling iron'.

during one of the williams video that alex participated in, the question of how close the 2019 rookies were, and how their relationship had changed over the years.

alex, the ever smiling man, said, "no no, i think we're all going really strong. like, we're amazing friends off track. we're hanging out all the time, and just sending each other memes and stuff. and, like, our girlfriends also get along really well."

"we take it george has a group chat for that as well?" the interviewer asked.

alex laughed, "we actually do! it's us three and our girlfriends. and, in the beginning, the girls sent in a lot of links to edits of like george and me, george and lando, or lando and me. i mean, they still do, but like, because of that, the group chat is called, um, 'curling iron's harem,"

the interviewer begged him to explain further, but alex laughed and diverted the topic, like they were all trained to do.

the fans went wild after williams posted that video on instagram. new edits of george, alex, and lando began trending, everyone leaning into the 'curling iron's harem' thing.

y/n, carmen, and lily had a field day with it, and sent in edits constantly. the boys had decided to then rate each edits that were sent in, because what else could they do.

the truth was revealed after the season got over though, when max and lando were streaming.

the chat was filled with people asking what 'curling iron' meant, and every time max read out the question, the two men couldn't stop laughing. they couldn't stop giggling.

"alright, alright. it was after one of the races, i made out with my girlfriend, left a hickey on her neck. carmen and lily noticed it, my girl said it was because of a curling iron-"

"very obvious lie, by the way,"

"yeah, and then i walked in after the interviews or something, and lily and carmen just started calling me 'curling iron' ever since,"

max was laughing, unable to stop.

"shut up, it's not that funny!" lando said, laughing as well.

"yeah, it is!" a distant voice was heard from lando.

"baby, you have to be on my side!" he whined to his girlfriend.

"aw, my poor curling iron," she cooed mockingly.

max only laughed harder.

"fuck off, all of you."

`✦ ˑ ִֶ 𓂃⊹✩°｡⋆⸜ 🎧✮

hi! sorry, this was kinda short. i never really planned to make a part 2 for this. but, i hope you enjoyed this! this is my prompt list, so y'all can select a number, give me a driver and i will write it as soon as possible! i also have a google form for a taglist if anyone's interested! you can sent in your requests here :)

taglist: @maketheshadowsfearyou; @anamiad00msday

[eph3merall]

the pungent smell of smoke burns at your nostrils, scrunching your nose up on instinct. the aroma of the burning candle beside you isn't serving its purpose of masking the smell of weed, though you should be used to it now. your eyes train on the flicker of flame casting shadows across chris' room, drips of wax melting and collecting on the bottom of the dish you placed it on.

the offer of cracking open a window earlier had chris looking at you funny, tearing your eyes away from the wavering flame and staring at the figure hunched over his desk. smoke floats up and dissipates out on top of chris' form, hearing an audible sigh as the chair he's in creaks with his weight.

"what are you doing?" the words slip from your mouth before you realize you even want to say something, the silence of the room seeming far too suffocating for your liking. you hear chris grunt, and more words are expected after, honestly. but he doesn't say anything else, leading you to confusion. a frown settles on your face, always hating being ignored or being given half answers.

"hey. i'm talking to you," you try again. chris just lifts one of his hands and waves it towards you, as if saying 'it's nothing'. which is fine, but you'd like a proper answer. your heart tugs when he doesn't even respond with his words, the sounds of sheets rustling in the air as you shift around in his bed. you normally wouldn't even push an answer, because you know chris is exhausted sometimes. but today, you feel as if he owes you something. he's been ignoring you all day, like you were some dirt on his shoe that he could give a fuck less about.

"chris—" a protest is on the tip of your tongue, face screwed up in frustration, but chris beats you to it. he's sighing, and you can hear the annoyance in his tone. he doesn't turn to look at you, only his words seem to be perfected missiles that cut deep into you.

"shut up for a second. seriously. like, jus' need you to shut the fuck up for five seconds. always yapping on about shit, gettin' upset when i don't pay attention to you. not like im your fuckin' boyfriend. don't piss me off, kid."

you stare at the back of his chair blankly, settling back down in comfortable sheets plush pillows that support your back. your ears seem to be clogged with water now, tuning out chris' voice and the words that made your chest hurt and mind come up with a million thoughts a minute. and eventually, you shut the brunette out all the way and zone out. that faraway look present in your eyes that's always visible at parties, not wanting to listen to what chris says about you.

you know deep down he's probably just annoyed. he's smoking as well, which never helps his case. you replay today's events, and nothing out of the ordinary happened to have made chris so irritated. you blink, and suddenly he's pacing his room while glaring at you time to time, rambling.

"—n'you're always actin like i have to pay attention to you all the time. do you know how pathetic that is? fuckin' needy ass attention bitch. it's like i can't ever catch a break with you, because it's always 'chris this, chris that'. do shit by yourself for once, actin' like im the only person who cares for you. wouldn't even be surprised, knowing im the one who introduced you to so many of your friends today—"

his words aren't true. deep down, you know chris is agitated and speaking his mind. but your heart thumps gently in your chest with each passing second, tears burning behind your eyelids as you blink once, harsh and tight. you focus on the creases of the sheets, tap your fingers against your thigh, anything to try and stop the tears threatening to fall from your eyes.

but he just keeps going, and going. talking and talking and talking, and at one point it just gets to be too much. shutting chris out again seemed too mean, lower lip quivering as the heel of your palm comes up to wipe at the tears dripping down your face. your throat gets tight, like a wire cord getting wrapped around your skin and rendering you unable to speak up.

at one point, you sniffle. chris pauses, glancing towards you. his jaw is tight and body rigid, eyebrows furrowing at the sight of you sobbing silently on his bed. the itch to continue is there and making him want to give in, sighing from his nose as the dealer stalks towards you with a few grumbles under his breath.

"alrighy, alright," warm arms and a familiar scent wrap around you as chris settles into his bed and throws an arm around your shoulders. a 'shut up' worms its way into your brain, lips parting in huffs of breaths and your nose feeling stuffy from the tsunami of tears suddenly spilling from your eyes.

you feel his hand grip at your shoulder, tugging you towards his side gently. his other hand wraps around your wrists to yank them away from your face while pulling you softly into his side. he doesnt bother with words, knowing he'd somehow make you cry more if he opened up his stupid mouth.

chris knows he's the reason you're crying right now, lashes clumping together with tears and lips going dry from the gasps of air you're heaving in. with a roll of his blue eyes and a sigh from his lips, he settles down and lets you sob however much you want. it'd be little to no use trying to make you stop, knowing chris he'd just make everything worse. he doesn't enjoy this. not really. and yeah, it was his fault, the seed of guilt heavy in his chest yet his mind choosing to ignore it.

—

@conspiracy-ash @sturniolosfavkayleigh @lvrsturniolo @st7rnioioss @meatballlover10 @ashlishes @ferdzom @55sturn @chriseatingmeoutin4k @unknvhx @mattslolita @chaossturns @slut4brunettes

©eph3merall 2024

[shoresoftheshadowlands]

I basically never ask for help with anything for all the reasons above. The bit about written vs vocal though is so me I feel it in my soul. I am almost entirely non-verbal when I am in my comfort zone. I don't need to speak so much because the people who would listen to me are online and read what I'm saying better than the people around me hear what I say.

I almost never ask for or about anything. Asking about something simple is more likely to get me a torrent of unrelated shit that by the time anyone bothers actually answering the core bit I wanted to know about, I no longer care and regret asking.

The only thing I keep asking for help with is my loud ass fucking door, which grates and scrapes as well as squeak-squeals like someone twisting satan's ballsack. I have asked for years if someone could please just fucking help me fix it. It's the only door in the house that squeals. (I had to ask for like two years to get a door in the first place after we moved here, which as a 32 year old at the time, not great)

I get the 'yea yea, we can fix that' and then they forget. And I am patient so I don't say anything. I will wait a long time before trying again. I've looked up how I might do it, but there's so much back and forth arguing online about what you should or should not do that I don't know anymore who's right so I don't try myself, what if I make it worse like some say it can? A nightmare waiting to happen.

So I keep to myself, I stay quiet, I avoid talking as much as I can. One wrong word already sets my mother off, as she assumed 99% of anything said is directly aimed at her and takes random shit personally, no matter how carefully it is said (Something she does to others in the home too so it's not just my autistic ass). Talking to her in particular feels like walking into an active minefield. I've got a long stick, I'm walking slowly. But no matter what you do, the field is far and eventually, you're gonna step on one. The best you can do is go back the way you came from, the fight isn't worth it.

I realized the other day that the reason I didn't watch much TV as a teenager (and why I'm only now catching up on late aughts/early teens media that I missed), is because I literally didn't understand how to use our TV. My parents got a new system, and it had three remotes with a Venn diagram of functions. If someone left the TV on an unfamiliar mode, I didn't know how to get back to where I wanted to be, so I just stopped watching TV on my own altogether.

I explained all this to my therapist, because I didn't know if this was more related to my then-unnoticed autism, or to my relationship with my parents at the time (we had issues less/unrelated to neurodivergency). She told me something interesting.

In children's autism assessments, a common test is to give them a straightforward task that they cannot reasonably perform, like opening an overtight jar. The "real" test is to see, when they realize that they cannot do it on their own, if they approach a caregiver for help. Children that do not seek help are more likely to be autistic than those that do.

This aligns with the compulsory independence I've noticed to be common in autistic adults, particularly articulated by those with lower support needs and/or who were evaluated later in life. It just genuinely does not occur to us to ask for help, to the point that we abandon many tasks that we could easily perform with minor assistance. I had assumed it was due to a shared common social trauma (ie bad experiences with asking for help in the past), but the fact that this trait is a childhood test metric hints at something deeper.

My therapist told me that the extremely pathologizing main theory is that this has something to do with theory of mind, that is doesn't occur to us that other people may have skills that we do not. I can't speak for my early childhood self, or for all autistic people, but I don't buy this. Even if I'm aware that someone else has knowledge that I do not (as with my parents understanding of our TV), asking for help still doesn't present itself as an option. Why?

My best guess, using only myself as a model, is due to the static wall of a communication barrier. I struggle a lot to make myself understood, to articulate the thing in my brain well enough that it will appear identically (or at least close enough) in somebody else's brain. I need to be actively aware of myself and my audience. I need to know the correct words, the correct sentence structure, and a close-enough tone, cadence, and body language. I need draft scripts to react to possible responses, because if I get caught too off guard, I may need several minutes to construct an appropriate response. In simple day-to-day interactions, I can get by okay. In a few very specific situations, I can excel. When given the opportunity, I can write more clearly than I am ever capable of speaking.

When I'm in a situation where I need help, I don't have many of my components of communication. I don't always know what my audience knows. I don't have sufficient vocabulary to explain what I need. I don't know what information is relevant to convey, and the order in which I should convey it. I don't often understand the degree of help I need, so I can come across inappropriately urgent or overly relaxed. I have no ability to preplan scripts because I don't even know the basic plot of the situation.

I can stumble though with one or two deficiencies, but if I'm missing too much, me and the potential helper become mutually unintelligible. I have learned the limits of what I can expect from myself, and it is conceptualized as a real and physical barrier. I am not a runner, so running a 5k tomorrow does not present itself as an option to me. In the same way, if I have subconscious knowledge that an interaction is beyond my capability, it does not present itself as an option to me. It's the minimum communication requirements that prevent me from asking for help, not anything to do with the concept of help itself.

Maybe. This is the theory of one person. I'm curious if anyone else vibes with this at all.

[blitzsicedcoffee]

Ficlet-In The Bath

Blitz squeezes the sponge over his back feathers, getting them nice and sudsy. He wouldn't admit it out loud right now but it does feel nice, warm, and comforting.

"There you are, some nice agua", Blitz says, smiling when there's a light knock on the bathroom door. He hops off his stool to answer it, dropping the sponge in the goopified soapy water.

Stolas dissociates into the wall. Then his body, on its own seems to tip forward, til his face dips under the water. It's warm. Disgusting, but warm and he doesn't want to feel anything else right now. Doesn't want to question why Blitz is being so caring. How he's never seen this side of him. Doesn't want to question the pictures he saw in the living room. Doesn't want to question if he'll ever see his own daughter again as Blitz's daughter hands off her own clothing to him.

Blitz pulls him out of the water by his shoulder and looks at him nervously, "Woah there uh, try not to inhale the water", he leaves a moment then before his body can fall back down he pokes his head back in a moment, "Yeah try not to inhale the water". He'll try. He was supposed to die. None of this was supposed to continue. Now he has no direction. No...power or title. Not that he really cared about that anyway.

He's back with Blitz and...he's angry. Angry they hadn't talked in a month. Angry he loves this idiot imp so much that he threw his whole life away, and now he has to live with it. And he's so fucking tired. Is this how normal people feel? This tired, all the time?

His hands shake as Blitz takes his hand and helps him out of the bathtub. Blitz takes the shirt and is about to help him get dressed when he puts up a hand, "I can. Thank you". He hands him the shirt and just stands there.

"Could I have some privacy?" Stolas asks, and a large blush spreads across his cheeks, "Right. Right. Sorry, I'll just uh, be out here then we'll get you settled in", Blitz replies and backs out, closing the door.

He looks at himself in the mirror, wet hair feathers tossled and a semi permanent scowl on his face at the moment. He tries to smile to no avail. Again, he was supposed to die.

"You were supposed to die!" He yells at himself in the mirror, pointing to it. Blitz, listening from outside, widens his eyes and pulls a pillow closer to him as he looks at the notifs on his phone.

Stolas cries. No, he sobs. For about an hour. Hearing the fireworks in the distant that are for Blitz. His triumph against his "aggressor". Stolas grits his teeth then sighs, pulling on the lounge clothes from loona and taking some deep breaths. The breathes become faster and he holds his chest.

Blitz calls back from the living room, "You okay in there?"

Stolas clenches at his chest feathers and tries to steady the breathing, "Yes" he manages to weakly reply. Blitz leaves him alone.

He's so tired. Sleep. He needs sleep. His hand turned the bathroom knob on autopilot and he steps out, shoulders slumped. Blitz takes his hands in his and leads him to the couch, and he collapses. Putting a blanket over him.

"Thank you, Blitz..." He whispers slowly.

Blitz looks pained but Stolas doesn't have the energy to discern why right now. He's tired of reading people.

"Thank you, Stolas for...saving my life", Blitz replies and Stolas's eyes start to drift.

You don't have to thank me... He thinks before he replies, "Always". And drifts to sleep.

[hannieehaee]

Watching the new ATLA show I had the thought that Joshua would be an earthbender (with those giant hands of his) and now I have a new fantasy of getting railed by earthbender!joshua 😔🤚🏽

18+ / mdi

content: earthbender!joshua, implied e2l, reader is supposed to be zuko's sister for some reason but it doesnt really make much difference to the blurb, afab reader, smut, penetrative sex, etc.

wc: 1006

a/n: so sorry for how long ive left this unanswered 😭😭 and thank you so much to the anons who gave me context about avatar since ive never watched it<3

masterlist

"oh, it's you again."

"don't act like you're not here to see me," the man chuckled condescendingly at you, carrying a smile far too charming for you to roll your eyes at.

"what can i get for you today?", he asked after moments of enjoying your annoyance at him.

"the usual," you responded without much thought.

uselessly writing it down, he looked up at you afterwards with a wink, chuckling again when you groaned at the action.

"not sure why my uncle hired you when you're so damn annoying," you muttered.

"what you call annoying others would say is charming", he corrected with far too much confidence.

unfortunately, it was true. ever since your uncle had hired him, business had been booming for the tea shop he'd just recently opened.

it was infuriating. everyone loved joshua, regardless of how big of an ego he had.

yet here you were. surely you weren't just here for some coffee, but you couldn't admit that to anyone (or even yourself) just yet. and so you sat there scowling at the object of your fury.

"what, not gonna say anything else? just gonna check me out the whole time?", he put away the pen and small notebook book he'd been holding, instead choosing to lean on the table you'd been sitting at, "fine. do you want something off the menu then?," he smirked at you, eyes dark with something unreadable.

you bit your lip. whether in annoyance or interest, you weren't sure.

but he reciprocated. somewhat.

straightening himself back up, he walked a few obvious steps to the restroom nearby, halting his movements when he came face to face with it and turning back to look at you. leaning against the wall, he eyed you with the smirk still present on his lips. he nodded towards you and then towards the door of the bathroom, giving you one last suggestive look before crossing the threshold into the restroom.

that's when you fucked up.

~

"god, you're so predictable," joshua mumbled between heavy kisses.

you didn't even bother to mutter back an answer, knowing he had the upper hand. he always did.

this was unexpected even for you. the original plan had been to come into his workplace to annoy him, yet here you were, tongue deep in his throat while he managed to earthbend the ground beneath you in order to ensure the two of you total privacy. it was at least nice to know he'd go through extra effort to get you alone.

"nothing to say? want me to keep you here all for me, huh?"

"shut up. just fuck me," you huffed, hands reaching down to his pants.

"oh? desperate? take me out then, baby," he challenged.

his head fell to your shoulder when you began jerking him off through his pants, pulling him out quickly after and swallowing a moan at the sight.

of course he was well endowed everywhere.

"shit, let me just-" and then your skirt was lifted, panties sticking to you due to the wetness he'd caused with mere kisses and some harsh fondling of your body.

his strong arms were for more than just show, apparently, as he used them to turn you around and make you face the wall. your hands went out instinctively to hold yourself against as your back arched to give him better access.

forced to let go of his dick as he flipped you around, he held onto it instead, using the tip to run through your folds through your tiny excuse for panties.

"shua, what if someone-"

"no one's gonna see or hear us, baby. don't worry. i turned the entrance into quicksand. no one can come in," he said too casually for your liking. his head was too preoccupied on his other head.

"joshua!"

"shh. 'm gonna fuck you now, okay? be good 'n let me just ... fuck, yeah, just like that ..."

a whine left your lips as soon as he entered you, but that was the last sound you were able to let out before one of his large hands went to cover your mouth. it was demeaning, yet it made you clamp down on him.

"god, can't even pretend you don't like this. you take it so good," he groaned, "isn't it good, baby? tell me how good it feels."

you attempted to cry and whine against the palm of his hand, all while he chuckled at your weak attempts, relentless in fucking into you.

"can't make a sound, huh? bet zuko would lose his mind knowing what i'm doing to his baby sister," he mocked you.

his efforts increased then. hips met your ass, making far too much noise for what was supposed to be a public restroom. you feared more patrons would enter the establishment, that someone may hear what you were doing with your supposed nemesis, yet you never made a move to stop him.

you continued to receive pleasure from him with no complaint, allowing him to do with you as he pleased. treated like a lifeless doll, he fucked into you until you were sure you'd bruise, legs unable to stand on their own. it was more pleasure than you'd ever felt, and you hated him for it.

but the biggest pleasure came when joshua's orgasm took over him, pulling you right down with him. his hips stuttered and his breath hitched, low groans replaced by high pitched breaths into your neck.

with one last whine (unknown if it was yours or his), he pulled out, leaving you limp against the wall as he gathered whatever was nearby in order to get you presentable again.

when you finally pushed yourself off the wall to face him, you were met with a face of satisfaction so annoying it had you wanting to burn the place down. it somehow doubled in satisfaction when you attempted to take your first step towards the door, stumbling in the process.

"what, need me to call your brother to come get you?", he laughed.

"i'll kill you, hong."

[sportswriters]

how they'd react to you not saying "i love you" back

lots of fluff with the players: rúben dias, jude bellingham, joão félix, pablo gavi, trent alexander-arnold, pedri gonzález, heungmin son, mason mount

a/n: hope everybody have fun reading these! we surely did after a few drinks in <33333

rúben dias

"amor? i'm heading out. i love you."

you quickly appear in the hallway, wearing a sweater that belonged to him.

“ok, have a nice day, darling,” you reply, waving goodbye.

the smile that had begun to appear on rúben's lips immediately fades, his hand resting against the doorknob he had opened earlier. when he hears your reply, he frowns, suspicious.

you get confused by his attitude and lick your lips, coming closer.

“what are you doing? i thought you had training.”

he doesn't answer right away, he just walks over to the sofa and sits down, unpretentiously. your lack of an answer made him a little suspicious, so he wasn't going to leave without something.

“yes, i do. but not until you answer me.”

you try to hold in your laughter, understanding the whole thing, but you still don't want to give in. his reaction wasn't what you'd expected. like, you didn't really expect him to just give up on going out just because you didn't answer his “i love you” like you always did.

you understood that it was really important to him.

“i don't get it, honey. did i answer you in a way that you didn't like?” you hold up your own joke, walking over to the sofa and sitting down right next to him.

as if he couldn't bear to never touch you when you were always close, his hand automatically moves to your thigh, where he squeezes it affectionately, almost unconsciously, because it's something he always does.

his expression closes with pure suspicion. he simply doesn't understand what had happened for you not to answer that you loved him back. until that point, for him, everything was fine. wasn't it?

“you tell me, y/n.”

his expression is so serious that you can't help yourself and start laughing. you quickly jump into his lap, turning him from suspicious to confused by your reaction. you hold his face with both hands.

“do you want me to tell you that I love you?” you ask, this time with a touched smile on your face.

he's so beautiful. so dangerously beautiful for his own good and sometimes you don't really believe he's yours.

he squeezes your thigh a little harder this time, as a warning.

“every day,” he adds, seriously.

you kiss his lips, laughing.

“i love you. i love you, i love you, i love you,” you start repeating several times against his lips. “i was only joking before. i wouldn't let you go without that.”

his smile returns to his lips. it was so easy to make him happy like that, you think, caressing his cheek.

“well,” he complains. “you almost did. now i'm going to be late for training because you're going to try and convince me that it was all a joke.”

you laugh and cling to him.

“wow, i fucking love you.”

jude bellingham

with things finally sorted, jude opens the door and you get out of bed just to follow him and take the opportunity to get a glass of water, since it's your day off and you're going back to your room.

“i'm leaving, baby. i love you, see you later?”

“yes, of course. good practice,” you say and walk into the kitchen.

jude blinks, confused. his eyebrows arch up, frowning as he tries to search for something in his memory that he can't recall. your answer was different from usual.

with that in mind, he opens the door and leaves, but still doesn't move to the elevator. instead, he reaches into his pocket for his phone, unlocks the screen and opens the group immediately.

“guys, did anything weird happen last night?” he sends the text and waits.

last night there was a small party at valverde's house, which you two joined and drank a bit. maybe jude did something he doesn't remember that upset you.

the answer comes almost immediately and he reads it.

“strange, like...?” camavinga asks.

“i don't know,” he types. “something that pissed y/n off?”

“what the fuck are you talking about, bellingham?” he reads the text from vinícius.

“i just said goodbye to y/n and she didn't say she loved me back”

on the other side of the door, you pick up your phone in your room, looking at the notifications. as you read everything, you laugh heartily.

“jude, you know I'm in the group too, right?” you send.

jude opens the door again after reading your message and goes straight to your room. he finds you sitting on the bed, still laughing, and you look up when you notice his presence, staring at him amused.

“so...?” he asks you, expecting an answer to the same question as before.

you laugh again and put your phone away. you get up and walk over to him, placing a kiss on the tip of his nose.

“nothing weird happened last night,” you reply, with a playful smile. “i was only joking, darling. of course i love you”

you nearly laugh again at the relieved sigh he lets out and the way he holds you so tightly, kissing your lips.

joão félix

hanging his bag over his shoulder, joão kisses you on the temple in farewell, while you're still finishing your coffee to start getting ready for work, since you don't have to arrive until later today.

“i'm on my way. i love you,” he says, moving from the kitchen worktop to cross the hall to the living room.

“alright, i'll see you later!” you reply, pouring a little more milk into your coffee, without looking at him, appearing a little distracted by your task.

you don't notice that he didn't cross the hall. he just stands there, as if waiting for something, which doesn't come. that's not how you normally say goodbye, so he's instantly alert.

turning around, joão appears at your side again, hugging you from behind, his hands around your waist in a very tight way, giving you the chance to smell his perfume even more closely. you chuckle, not expecting this attitude from him and turn your face to him, frowning.

“is everything all right?” he asks, a little hesitant, and kisses your shoulder affectionately.

the whole time his eyes are on you, as if he's studying your reaction, looking for something he didn't notice before or missed.

“yes... why wouldn't it be?”

you know why he's asking, but you don't say anything. you just carry on. just a little longer. even though you're sorry to see him with that expression of someone who thinks he's done something wrong, but hasn't yet found out what.

“like, there hasn't been any more shit gossip that you've been tagged in, right? anything like that?”

you lick your lips, staring into his eyes. ever since you started your public relationship, some people have been cruel enough to say things about you cheating on him, like his ex, that you wouldn't know how to take care of his heart and other shit. at first, this affected you and also worried joão, but then you dropped all those negative comments, focusing only on the good things with him.

“no, darling, there hasn’t” you reassure him, kissing his lips quickly, turning to face him, his hands never leaving you. “why now?”

he squeezes your waist.

“ah, you didn't say you love me back” he replies. “and you always do, right?”

you finally let out a laugh. he's confused, so you wrap your hands around his neck.

“i was joking, love,” you say, smiling. “i got you used to it, didn't i?”

relief washes over him instantly and he smiles.

“wouldn't that be a bad thing?” he tries to correct.

you widen your smile and shake your head.

“no, i've got you used to it very well,” you reinforce. “because that's the least you deserve: to hear every day that i love you. i love you.”

so he just kisses you, his heart warmer than ever, even though it's cold in chelsea.

pablo gavi

“did you get everything? aren't you forgetting anything?”

gavi checks his bag once more, making sure he hadn't forgotten anything after your question. when he seems sure, he quickly denies it with his head. 

“no, all set. shall we?”

you nod and pick up your own bag. you walk out together and enter the elevator hand in hand. you didn't live together, but sometimes you spent the night and went to work in the morning from his place, since some of your things were there and it made your life easier. it had been his idea and, even though you hesitated a little, you ended up accepting.

the elevator leaves you both in the parking lot, where your car is.

“see you later?” he asks and you nod, remembering that you were getting used to sleeping there more than once. “i love you.”

he kisses your lips and you return it, pulling away soon after.

“see you later, sweetheart.”

you say goodbye once more and walk to your car, ready to be on your way.

gavi stands still for a moment, trying to take in what has just happened. he watches as you get into your own car and drive past him, blowing a kiss into the air, but he can't even smile.

he stands there for a moment, feeling confused and odd, the situation was odd. you said goodbye to him in a strange way. 

now he was going to barcelona training with his head a little distracted. he couldn't keep up with the banter with the boys or do his best in practice. he seriously thought something was wrong with you, but no matter how much he thought about it, he couldn't figure out what. 

his teammates asked him if he was all right or what was going on that had him so distracted, unable to concentrate one hundred percent on training. he would give a vague answer and carry on, even though his mind was wandering towards an answer that wasn't coming.

he thought a lot. about everything. about anything. he thought about texting you, but gave up. you always received a message from him every time he arrived at the training center, but this time he didn't. gavi simply didn't even think about it, his mind wandering back to the moment you said goodbye, trying to find out what had gone so wrong.

he tried to remember if he had missed anything, but he couldn't find it.

hours passed and it was time to go home again. you arrived first, a little tired, but you tried to prepare some homemade dinner to welcome him. gavi always arrived at the same time every day, on time, but on this one, he was ten minutes late.

you waited, sitting on the couch, watching some reality show that you didn't follow much, but that was what was passing your time. ten minutes later, you heard the door click.

when you turn to look at him, gavi goes off first, without even expecting anything beforehand.

“i just can't do it,” he begins, dropping his bag with his training stuff. “i've been thinking about it all day and i still can't reach a conclusion.”

you suppress a smile, but you're still a little confused.

“gavi?”

he looks at you, his shoulders slumped, his puss in boots expression.

“did i do something? are you upset about something? did something happen?” he fired off without taking a breath.

you pause the show and turn completely towards him, still sitting on the couch. you knew exactly what that meant, but you thought it would be fun to take it further.

“what do you mean ‘something?’ what are you talking about?” you play the fool.

gavi takes a deep breath. that had been torturing him all day. not even the smell of home-cooked food calms his nerves.

he approaches the couch.

“you didn't say you loved me back this morning,” he explains.

you try, but you can't suppress your laughter. you put your hand to your mouth, trying to control yourself, and gavi's expression changes.

“what's so funny?”

“baby, i was joking,” you confess.” i love you, gavi.”

you get up, trying to approach him while standing on the couch.

his mood changes. his eyes narrow towards you, trying to take in what you've just said.

“wait a minute, what?”

you laugh again.

“i was only joking. i didn't say i loved you this morning on purpose.”

you try to kiss him, but he pulls away, his expression tight.

“you…” he shakes his head, disbelieving that you had done it on purpose. he can't believe that he was stuck on it all day, while you knew it was a joke.

of course you let him think about it all day.

“that was ridiculous,” he says, still shaking his head and walking away, without giving you a chance to get closer and kiss him. “ridiculous, y/n.”

he walks down the corridor towards his room, totally shocked that it was all a joke, although part of him was relieved that everything was still fine and that he hadn't done anything wrong.

“come back here, it was a joke, baby!”

trent alexander-arnold

after checking his watch and realizing that he'd have to hurry if he wanted to be on time for practice, trent slung his bag over his shoulder and grabbed his keys from the bedside table. you were in the kitchen cleaning and rearranging some glasses to make room for the new wine ones you got as gifts. you'd almost forgotten about the prank you'd planned, but you only had to feel trent's kiss on your neck for a mischievous smile to appear on your face.

“i have to go, i love you. don't forget to check our reservation later.”

“ok, i'll let you know when i've confirmed it,” you replied, giving him a kiss.

trent smiled and made his way to the living room, then stopped. his head tilted slightly as if he were experiencing a sudden lightening.

“aren't you going to tell me you love me?!” he asked, still standing in the same spot.

“what? sorry, i'm distracted.”

“last chance!”

the sink tap was turned on, followed by other utensil noises. trent squinted his eyes and came back into the room to look at you – you really looked busy, too busy.

“hi, love. do you need anything else?”

trent arched an eyebrow.

“no, i'm on my way. love you.”

“ok, text me when you get there.”

silence.

“yeah, i'm going to spend a few days at dom's, good luck without me.”

he then dashed to the door, slamming it hard.

“what? trent!”

when you got there, you couldn't move the handle. it clearly wasn't locked, so you laughed in frustration when you realized what was going on.

“trent, i love you! it was a joke!”

you knew your boyfriend was considerably stronger, but you still tried to force the door once more. to no avail.

“oh yeah? now you do? didn't convince me.”

“you're going to be late!”

“this is more important, it's a life lesson.”

“fine! now let me see you and apologize properly,” you asked, resting your forehead on the door.

you stepped back when you felt the doorknob move slowly. there he was with the most unbearable expression of all and with his arms crossed, you soon knew that you would have a lot of work to do to make up for this great and terrible mistake.

you moved closer, uncrossed his arms and put them around your body.

“i love you very much, i just wanted to tease you with a little prank,” you said as you spread kisses along the length of his neck. “but you already knew that, right? you know i wouldn't let it slide.”

trent pouted, pretending to think about it, which shocked you. when you tried to pull away, he brought you back, smiling again – a genuinely cheeky smile.

“i know something would be very wrong if you'd forgotten, it's just that you're a pretty bad liar, so it was easy to figure out your little game.”

trent pressed a lingering kiss to your lips.

“just don't do it again, or i'll have to come up with my own pranks too.”

pedri gonzález

“damn, i'm really late,” you say, picking up the car keys and throwing them to pedri, who always seems to forget them when he goes out.

he picks up his bag and phone, quickly answering a message and looks up to see you putting on your heels, ready to leave together.

“i can drop you off at work,” he offers.

you wave your hand in denial.

“that means you'd be late, since it's the opposite direction. and we both know how coach flick feels about being late.”

he can't disagree and he knows you're right, but even so, his expression drops and you notice.

“it's okay, love. i've already called an uber,” you reassure him and pick up your own bag. “shall we?”

the two of you leave together and he locks the door to the apartment. since you always arrive first, he gives you back the key, because he always forgets to make his own copy, and you take the stairs, not wanting to wait for the elevator.

“did gavi confirm dinner?” you ask.

“yes, we're coming together,” pedri replies.

you nod and when you finally reach the parking lot for pedri to take his car, you check on your phone that your uber will arrive in front of the building in two minutes. you tell him so.

“i'll see you later, then.” he leans in to give you a kiss and you reciprocate. “i love you.”

“good training, love,” you say and say goodbye, turning to leave.

you hide a smile, proud that you managed to remember to play a little prank on him before you left. pedri is confused, the gears of his brain turning slowly as he processes the fact that you didn't say you loved him back.

then you feel a hand grab your arm and turn you around – it's him.

“pedri?”

“should i apologize to you for something?” he asks, his voice a little uncertain.

“do you think you need to?”

the panic takes over his face and you can see that he's trying to remember what he did wrong. it was more likely that he wouldn't find out and would send a text to the boys, asking how he could best apologize, even if he didn't know what the mistake was.

“did i leave the wet towel on the bed again?” he asks, first try. “jesus, fer gave out my number again and some girl called and you got it all wrong?”

“fer hasn't done that since the last time i scolded him.”

you try not to laugh when you see how desperate he is.

“pedri, i have to go. the uber's coming.”

“no!” he holds your arm tighter. “you can't leave without telling me what i need to apologize for. you didn't say you loved me back.”

you laugh, giving up. the plan was really to leave without telling him, but his genuine distress made you realize that you couldn't let him torture himself the whole way wondering what he'd done wrong and what he needed to apologize for. you'd rather he concentrated one hundred percent and entirely on training.

“i was only joking, okay? there's nothing for you to apologize for, love.” you approach him, caressing his cheek affectionately. “not even for the towel, which, by the way, yes, you forgot it wet this morning.”

pedri rolls his eyes and pinches your waist lightly.

“no funny business, y/n.” he snorts.

but his unhappy frown doesn't last long when you kiss his lips gently, this time being the one to apologize. 

“i couldn't resist,” you say. “i really have to go now. i'll see you later.”

“and...?” he encourages, still not letting go.

you chuckle and hear the uber notification.

“and i love you.”

it's only when he finally seems satisfied that he lets you go, but still makes you delay a minute longer with a kiss on the lips.

heungmin son

you brought the jacket that heungmin had forgotten on the couch, so he could finally close his suitcase. he was preparing for the season with the Korean national team, so you took the opportunity to spend your days off together. this time you couldn't join heungmin on the trip because your work schedule didn't allow it.

the drive to the airport was smooth, while you hummed along to the songs on the radio, heungmin took the chance to doze off in the passenger seat - his hand resting on your thigh the whole ride. 

you parked at the entrance to the airline gate, as you had to say goodbye to him there.

“send me a picture of the snacks in first class on this plane,” you asked excitedly, even though it wasn't the first time.

heungmin laughed.

“i love you, take care on the way back and let me know when you arrive.”

you pressed his cheeks with your hands and kissed him several times.

“have a good trip.”

heungmin pulled away and stared at you with a broad smile. then he got out of the car and you opened the trunk so he could get his things. in the rearview mirror, you noticed when he closed the door and stared into the distance with a question mark on his face. it took you a great deal of effort to hold back your laughter when he tapped twice on the window right next to you.

“i'm going now, i love you.”

“all right, take care,” you said, and gave him another tender kiss.

however, heungmin didn't move, leaning his elbows on the door.

“honey, i'm going to get fined if i stay here another minute.”

“i'm not worried about that. is everything alright?”

“everything's fine, did we forget something? do you want me to go back and get it?”

“i think i might have missed something, because you haven't said you love me.”

you pressed your lips together, unable to contain yourself in front of his worried expression. although you knew that heungmin would be fully capable of paying any fine, you didn't want to spend money on this kind of nonsense.

“it was a prank, my love. i love you, ok? now get going, because i don't want you to be late, and i don't want to spend money on an airport ticket.”

he stayed there, watching you, analyzing any sign of a lie. analyzing you like someone who has made a mistake and doesn't want to repeat it.

“heungmin!”

“fine, but you're not geting off that easy,” he warned, then walked away.

“come here, give me one more kiss.”

“no, rethink your actions. i'll see you when Ii get back.”

“heungmin, no! i love you!”

you could see his satisfied smile as he walked towards the airport entrance. a honk made you take notice of your surroundings again, but that wasn't what worried you. you honked back.

“i'm leaving, damn it!”

a few hours later, you saw the notification with a text from heungmin.

baby: [photo] i've already written down the names of the things that were served to us on the plane. i'll buy them for us when i think you deserve them again.

y/n: cruel

baby: only fair

mason mount

"have a nice day, sweetheart. i'm heading out. love you."

you were still curled up in bed. the day off came at a good time, because you felt completely exhausted and all you wanted to do was rot in that bed. it was unfair that mason had to leave, but you accepted it, not having much to do, but you thought you'd play with him a bit, before he left.

"have a good game this weekend. text me when you get home, yeah?" you mumbled.

mason nodded and was about to close the bedroom door and let you go back to sleep, when he realized what had just happened. you didn't say it back. you always did, it was something that came out automatically and genuinely from both of you, but not this time.

he put his hand on the doorknob and went back to looking at you in bed, your eyes alight with a mischievous gleam that he didn't notice.

"is everything alright?" he asked, worried.

mason wasn't usually insecure with you, he simply had no reason to be. so when something like this happened, he got worried that something was wrong and he didn't notice.

"yes," you answered, falsely confused by his question, when you knew where it's coming from.

mason shook his head slowly, processing. he dropped his bag on the floor and stepped closer to the bed, stopping right next to you.

"are you sure?" he continued, looking for something in your expression.

"what is it, mase?"

he let out a frustrated sigh. you could tell he was struggling to understand what was going on.

"you know you can tell me anything, right?" he reinforces.

"mase. love."

you got up, pushing the sheets away from your body, sitting up in bed.

"you didn't say you loved me back. is something wrong?"

"love, i don't..."

your heart squeezed when you saw his expression.

"because i say i love you every day in the most sincere way i can. come on, tell me, what happened? i can cancel my flight right now and we'll sort it out."

"mase, what? no!"

he couldn't be serious about canceling his flight and not being at the game this weekend, for goodness sake! it was an important game and he was still earning his place in the team, you would never let him do that, even if there was something wrong.

"baby, i was joking. of course i love you back." you giggled, leaning your forehead against his.

"what?" he let go and you laughed even harder. 

"that's not funny, y/n! you scared me."

"sorry, sorry!" you rushed to say, kissing his lips."it was just a prank. no canceling flights, okay?"

he shook his head, his lips almost forming a pout.

"i'm not convinced it was a prank. are you sure there's nothing wrong?"

him doubting you made you realize that the prank didn't go as planned. however, you also learned that it was important to him, in a way you hadn't imagined.

"there's nothing wrong, i promise."

he arched his eyebrow.

"really?"

this time you rolled your eyes.

"mason. you don't believe me?" you fire back.

"i just...” he tried to say, but you interrupted him.

"i love you. yesterday, today, tomorrow. the rest of my life. i love you."

he finally seemed convinced and held your face with both hands, foreheads still pressed together.

"even if things go wrong?"

"especially if things go wrong."

he smiled. so openly that you found yourself melting for his beauty again - secretly.

"i'll never get tired of hearing that."

[pret-boy]

I'll just answer these straight up because NOBODY LIKES ME!

1. Anywhere with my bf is great but I would love an arcade date. I wanna beat his ass at games. Or get my ass beat. Either way it's fun.

2. I just listen to mentally ill Vocaloid producers and Japanese twinks given musical talent please don't ask me anything like this again.

3. Being accepted unconditionally.

4. Taken I love my boytoy malewife husband I keep him in a small enclosure.

5. Many because I'm very very arospec and I "crush" on people for like 3 hours max and move on. So it's like a fun movie experience to me. If we're talking crushes that lasted at least a week that'd be like... six as far as I remember. People I've dated included.

6. People who are the opposite of me. I like women who are cool and collected and don't fuck with me (and older ideally) and men who are sad wet cats and would die if I looked at someone else. I've only dated the latter though. But generally I also really like people who have a darker aesthetic (regardless of personality) because I have a cutesy aesthetic and visually those are fucking awesome together.

7. Extremely. I speedrun crushes. I will crush on someone 30 minutes into knowing them (happened with my ex btw) and lose the crush the next day. I don't even know if they count as crushes they're like just a fun little thing to spice up an otherwise boring day for me.

8. I honestly don't care. I'd like something wholesome and fluffy though, like festive movies. Christmas movies yay!

9. Sunflowers and lilies.

10. Neither you nor I know. No one does. Divine inspiration strikes me at random. I don't know what a musical note even is but I composed and played a short tune for my ex on our anniversary out of fucking NOWHERE because I wanted to surprise him.

11. Idk.

12. Anything and everything really but giving I'm more of a quality time and words of affirmation person (with acts of service on the side), receiving I like quality time too.

13. My bf's been calling me "darling" lately and it really melts me like fucking butter. So cute.

14. No.

15. Not at the moment actually. I've been busy so I haven't gotten into any new media and my old fictional crushes fizzled out. Does my bf's oc count? I'm obsessed with them.

16. Both are good I'm not picky. If I had to pick, quiet. It's cuter. Yeah boy quiet down. I like men who know their place and shut the fuck up. I really liked this guy in my class who sat next to me and this other girl and we would yap the whole time while he sat there with his knees pressed together and hands folded in his lap like a good little Victorian maiden, not even uttering a single word. Like yep thats a good man right there. Keep that up.

17. Every man I relate to is bisexual. Because I said so.

18. My boyfriend. Pizza.

19. Can't let the hoes know my music taste lest I scare them.

20. Idk. I get a lot. I guess my boyfriend saying I'm scary and he finds it hot is the best recent one.

21. ALL WHEN YOU'RE MY BOYFRIEND BECAUSE HE'S CUTE AS HELL!!!! But in general I love cheek kisses. I'm a serial cheek kisser. Toxic masculinity be damned my boy (me) can kiss his friends on their cheeks and hold them affectionately.

22. Back.

23. I won't say because it's an instant giveaway to who I am fr. I'm like the only man that insane about him.

24. NOTHING THAT BRINGS ME PLEASURE MAKES ME FEEL GUILT! I AM HEDONISTIC AND FREE!

25. I love PDA. Not hardcore making out in public or some shit but y'know.

26. Gently? Also with jokes and if I'm upset because of someone, hate on them and tell me you will hex them and they're ugly and doomed to die alone while I'm beautiful and a winner and god's favorite (all very true btw). I love envisioning my opps' downfalls.

27. PSYCHOLOGICAL TORTURE! PLAYFUL BULLYING! PUTTING MY BELOVEDS IN A CAGE! BEING INSANE! YAPPING ABOUT THEM 24/7! MAKING THEM SCARED! MAKING THEM CRY! WAITING FOR THEM TO COME BACK WHEN THEY'RE BUSY! MAKING TIME FOR THEM! SENDING THEM THINGS THAT REMIND ME OF THEM! TELLING THEM ABOUT MY FATHER (I FUCKING HATE MY FATHER)! And of course comforting them and making them feel safe. Also beating the shit out of my loved one's enemies (for real) and praying on their misery. I have a lot of loving sadism in my heart but also I'm a sweetheart angel who loves people unconditionally and doesn't know what the word grudge means. Unless you're mean to my loved ones then I'll fucking kill you.

28. Both. Whatever my bf wanna be I'll be the opposite I'm a very accomodating and flexible man.

29. I love sad wet cat pathetic loser men so much I wish they were real.

mlm ask game!

1. ideal date location?

2. favorite mlm song?

3. what makes you feel loved?

4. are you single or taken?

5. how many crushes have you had?

6. what's your type?

7. do you develop crushes quickly?

8. best show or movie for a date night at home?

9. what are your favorite flowers?

10. what would you give as a gift on an anniversary?

11. what's your favorite album?

12. what's your love language?

13. what are some pet names that make you blush?

14. do you read fanfiction?

15. any fictional crushes?

16. loud boys or quiet boys?

17. any characters you headcanon as mlm?

18. what's your comfort food?

19. last song you listened to?

20. best compliment you ever received?

21. kiss on the lips, cheek or forehead?

22. scalp massage or back massage?

23. any celebrity crushes?

24. what's your guilty pleasure?

25. do you like PDA?

26. how do you prefer to be comforted?

27. favorite way to express affection?

28. big spoon or little spoon?

29. freebie! ask or prompt to share something random

[kurokawaia]

DAY ONE - GUNPLAY 彡 Dazai Osamu

WARNINGS :: Port Mafia Boss Dazai!, x fem!reader, afab, yandere? dazai, controlling, Forced confinement, psychological manipulation, power imbalance, dark themes, dubious consent, overstimulation, gunplay, getting fucked by a gun on a desk, mean!dazai, slight choking, sucking the gun + more

| WC :: 2k+ | MDNI | 18+ | kinkmas m.list

You are afraid.

You are anticipating Dazai's reaction to your plea, but you presume it will always be the same answer. You can hear his cold voice in your ear, but only just barely. His straightforward response was, "No, Belladonna."

You hesitate, then raise your fist to knock softly on his large office doors. One idea kept coming up in your mind: you wouldn't want to disturb Dazai if he was working on anything significant. You wouldn't want him to treat you badly again if you were interrupting him when he was busy.

You were unaware that papers were spread all over his desk in that room as Dazai wrote on them, making a faint tapping sound as he did so. He was not in the mood for any shenanigans today, which was bad for you. His eyes were as cold as ever as he moved between the piles of paper.

To avoid disturbing him, you enter cautiously, quietly, and slowly. You had to take a deep breath and pause before you could approach any closer since the room was so quiet. The air of Dazai made you question everything. 

He had been leaving early in the morning and coming home later at night, this has been happening for days. Ever since the workload had upped, Dazai wasn't even acknowledging your presence anymore. 

You can't stand how isolated you feel. You need a break from being alone, only if he would come back home earlier, or even stay just five minutes longer so you could see him before he left. You need Dazai, despite everything he has done and is doing to you.

"Osamu," you say gently as you go up to him.

His eyes briefly meet yours before returning to the papers because he doesn't want to be bothered.

You bite your lower lip as he gives you a quick look, but you can't tell if he was upset with you or his job, so you try again. "Since you've spent the entire day here, how about we spend some time outside? Just for a walk?" you ask again in a quieter, more tender voice.

His pen pauses in the middle of a stroke, and as you watch his tongue run over his teeth within his mouth, a soft breath escapes your lips.

He asks again, "You... want to go outside?" "Um...Yes," you respond, fiddling with your fingers all while staring at the floor. "J-Just for a short while. It's not easy being locked up here."

You recoil when Dazai drops his pen against the wooden desk. His eyes lift to meet yours as he relaxes in his chair, as the intensity causes your heart to leap. You hated that you couldn't read his eyes because you never knew if what you said would be well received by him.

However, you thought... at that very moment... that he-

"What did I tell you about asking such things?" he asks you, his voice so rasping that it sends chills through your body.

Your heart skips a beat as you blink. "Osamu, I only thought-"

"You thought?" Dazai responds with a wicked smirk that lacks any warmth. "You thought that it would be alright to rebel against me?"

In a single motion, he gets up from his chair, as you notice how he grabs his weapon that is lying on his desk. As you watch his thin fingers wrap effortlessly around the metal, your breath stops in your throat.

You're afraid.

You quickly revolt, your voice shaking, "I wasn't going against you," as you back off a step while he slowly walks around the desk towards you.  

"You are questioning my authority. You want to go outside while you are not allowed. That, Belladonna, is disobedience," he says, his brown eyes narrowing on you as he gets closer and his proximity becomes restrictive. "You know what happens when you disobey me, don't you?"

Your breath catches when he grabs your wrist and jerks you forward to where you are pushed against his chest. His fingers dig into your skin, firm but not painful... yet.

"I told you before, didn't I?" he breathes quietly into your ear. "You do not have to think. You only need to listen." His body clashes against yours, as your heartbeat accelerates rapidly. His grip is just strong enough to make you wince. "I-I'm sorry, Osamu..."

"Sorry isn't enough." He turns you around and sets your back against the edge of the desk. His hand reaches up to wrap around your neck; it’s not a tight grasp, but it’s enough to keep you from moving as his hot breath hits your ear. "You need to learn that you’re not allowed to leave. And I’ll make sure you remember this lesson." His presence is overwhelming, and it causes your heart to pound. "I do this to protect you, Bella," he murmurs quietly, pressing his lips against the shell of your ear. "So don't make me punish you again after this."

His fingertips brush your cheek, seductively light, as he pulls away to look at you. "Now, let's get one thing straight." His gaze burns into yours. "You will never question me again. If you want to be safe, you will do what I say. Okay?"

"Yes," you say softly.

"Good," he purrs. "So..."

When the gun's head presses against your chest, your breath shortens. "O-Osamu..." you moan, your body shivering with every breath.

"Shhhh," Dazai whispers, his free hand holding the back of your head as he buries his face into your hair, inhaling your sweet cherry shampoo. "I'm not going to hurt you, just going to teach you a lesson."

You stand there for a minute more, your pulse beating and your thoughts racing as the gun travels down your breasts, eventually ending at your lower belly. Immediately, your hands grab Dazai's shoulders and crush your head into his chest.

"I am sorry, Osamu. "P-Please, I am so sorry," you sob into his chest.

A giggle escapes his lips, as the hand caressing your head now combs your hair in an almost relaxed manner. "I'm not going to hurt you," Dazai says, drawing back and kissing the top of your head. "Trust me, Bella."

His hand travels down to your skirt, tugging the zip, causing the pencil skirt to tumble down your waist and to the floor. Dazai's fingers pull beneath your G-strong, his middle fingers moving up your folds, and you helplessly cry, burying your face in his chest once more.

"See, darling, I'm not hurting you," he coos, surprised at how submissive you were to him.

"Feels good," you say breathlessly. "M-more." 

Dazai shoved the gun deeper into your flesh, but it traveled lower, to your pelvis, but you couldn't think about it; the pleasure was too intense to bear. He tugs your G-string to the side, taking in the lust that glistened everywhere, practically flowing down your thigh. "Of course...Oh, Bella... you're soaked."

You bit down hard on your bottom lip; you were experiencing too many sensations at once, and your legs were about to give out. Then you feel him pull your underwear down your legs, the black fabric slapping your ankles as you slide out of them. 

"Take your shirt... off," Dazai says gently, his breath burning on your ear.

He raises his free hand to gently grab your throat, pressing lightly and feeling your heartbeat against his palm. Dazai swallows the knot in his throat. God, he loves to feel your heartbeat throb against any part of her body. You are so simple to manipulate, and he adores you. You're great for him.

You unbutton the simple white blouse as softly as possible, feeling Dazai's smile on your lips. Then he gently drags the gun up to your chest, between your breasts, pulling his hand away from your mouth and tracking the cold metal up your throat till it brushes against your lips.

Your breath catches in your throat. Dazai smirks.

"Suck, Darling," he adds, pleased by your reaction; he could tell you were scared of what he intended to do.  

Little did you know that the gun's safety was turned on, and even if it wasn't, he'd make sure not to pull the trigger. He needs you in his life more than he lets on.

You reluctantly open your lips, allowing Dazai to carefully put the metal inside it. "Good girl," he compliments, seeing the tears well up in your eyes once more. 

The praise causes your cunt to throb and your heart to swell. You swirl your tongue over the gun tip to ensure that the barrel is soaked. Surprisingly, it wasn't as unpleasant as you expected; instead, you noticed that it was quite cold and that the flavor was clearly metallic, something you were unfamiliar with.

Dazai experimentally puts the pistol farther into your mouth, causing you to choke, and you grasp his blazer tighter. He was proud of you for choosing him over the air, and you made him wild.  

He takes the gun out of your mouth, and you breath quickly, savoring the way the oxygen filled your lungs before you coughed slightly. Dazai admires the stream of saliva that leads to the gun from your lips, just as if you were sucking his dick.

You gasp as you feel the point of the pistol touch up against your swollen clit, your hands tightening on Dazai. He begins to gather the excitement flowing from your cunt around the pistol, the metal rubbing across your folds as you helplessly groan at the strange feeling.

"'Samu," you hiccup. "Please.."

"Hmm? "Please what?" he responds.

When the point of the pistol pushes into your entrance, your eyes widen and your walls tighten around the metal. "M-More," you whimpered. "Please."

Of course, he agrees to your request since it is only a matter of time before you realize there is a pistol going to be shoved in and out of your cunt. Dazai starts working the gun in and out of your moist cunt, watching your excitement flow down the pistol and onto the floor.   

"You're loving this, Bella, aren't you?" Dazai hums, angling the pistol to precisely strike your sweet spot. "My gun in your cunt," he says quietly, knowing what the reaction will be.

Tears puddle at your lash line; you'd be screwed if he pulled the trigger. You wouldn't put it beyond him; he'd let you to bleed out on the floor, and he'd probably enjoy it. But... he loves his gorgeous Belladonna so much that he couldn't let you go till you died. 

"Please, don't," you sob, both with pleasure and terror of being shot.

"Please what?"

"Please don't kill me," you begged.

"I would never, Bella," he says, slipping his tongue between your lips. "Just making you feel good." 

He accelerates the pace at which he is shoving the pistol, and you groan into his lips as he puts you on his desk. You were completely overwhelmed by all of your senses: his gun within you, his kissing you, and the way his hand was around your throat.

Dazai angles the pistol so he can toy with your clit while pumping the gun in and out of you, and you can't hold it for long. The coil in your gut was tightening, and you were not going to wait.

"Please, Osamu," you begged. "N-Need to come, please."

"Wait a little longer, or maybe I will just pull the trigger," he mutters into your mouth.

"N-No," you whimpered. "Please, I just' want to come, please, 'Samu."

"Alright," Dazai responds, thrusting the pistol farther into your cunt, which has tightened even more until you rip away from the kiss and fling your head back, a loud groan exiting your mouth. Your cum poured all over his palm and desk, soaking the paper underneath. 

"You know," he says quietly, "I push you because I need you to understand... no one else can keep you safe like I can." His thumb brushed against your lower lip. "This world is far too dangerous for you to be anything less than strong."

"I know I'm rough with you sometimes," he acknowledges. "But I can't afford to lose you. Not in a world like this. You are mine, and I do not share what is mine. And the gun's safety was turned on."

"The safety was on..." you mutter in surprise.

Do not steal, copy, modify, translate or use for ai Reblogs only!

taglist :: @love-eien @enouche @dreaddful @Manjiro0sano

@yanakurokawaaa @null-zero-0 @princesstiti14 @bontensbabygirl

@mitsuyas-version @kxrfie @clobiss @berrilybibi @Tvbox_098

@lightshowerrr @fullwriterpoemp

[shouyuus]

adding onto the vi sleeps shirtless req only now it's college roommatevi! who wakes up to you pounding at her door at fuck-crack of dawn (or midday, if she went out the night before) and who stumbles out of bed, still mostly asleep and wearing only a ratty pair of boxers, to shutyouup answer

(you weren't made for blood pressures this high, and it's only like 8 AM)

xx vi sleeps shirtless truther

18+, no sex, just a nip-mention

JUST. college roommate!vi answering the door, squinty-eyed, her hair an absolute menace, sticking up in every direction, you standing there, wanting to be pissed at her bc its like... the 5th time she's used your stainless steel pot without cleaning it correctly and just leaving it in the sink but -- holy shit -- she's in a pair of old, bright red, calvin klein boxer briefs and nothing else, grumbling at you, the sunrise peaking over her shoulder, casting her in this golden, ethereal glow like --

"what, cupcake?" and her voice is gravely with sleep but you really can't focus on anything else bc... did you even know her nipples were pieced? you might've had an inkling bc she has some strange aversion to ever wearing proper bras so you've kinda maybe noticed the shape of them through all her tanktops and band tee's but -- now they're just right there --

"uh -- uhm --" you stutter, your brain short-circuiting way harder than you'd imagined, the dirty pot still in your hand, though it's held slack at your side bc really -- what the fuck are you supposed to say to this?

vi quirks an eyebrow, clearly confused and more than a little annoyed. she glances down at her chest, rolling her eyes. on any other day, she might've teased you, but she'd had a really late night last night and its one of the few days she doesn't have morning practice so she really doesn't appreciate you cutting into her sleep.

"c'mon princess, it's not like you haven't got a pair yourself," she says, shifting her weight from one leg to another, making her tits bounce slightly. you jerk your eyes away, cheeks going so hot you think you might get 3rd degree burns.

"just --" you cast your eyes up towards... anywhere but vi's tits, "the -- do you --" you sputter, grasping for a coherent sentence. but for some stupid reason, the only thing you can come up with is "i was... gonna make breakfast. d-did you want anything?"

vi stares, half-incredulous, half-confused.

"breakfast?" she glances at the large alarm clock sitting atop her half-opened drawers. it blinks a steady 7:48AM at her in dull red LED lights.

"nevermind -- i -- it was stupid. sorry for waking you --" you turn on your heels, feeling the room closing in around you, your fingers shaking around the pot handle.

"jesus, princess -- unless you're offering up yourself on a silver platter, don't ever wake me up at 7am again for fuckin' breakfast --"

vi's door clicks closed but you're left peering over your shoulder, eyes wide as dinner plates. because did she say what you think she did?

after a few solid seconds on blinking at her closed door, you scurry away to the kitchen to soak the stainless steel with bar keeper's friend, frowning down at the foamy mess in the kitchen sink, doing everything you can not to think about what it might look like if you did offer yourself to vi for breakfast.

you sigh, blowing a strand of hair from your face, frowning down at the stainless steel pot.

maybe next time.

[sailorluna15]

Pitfighter vi x reader. vi is really cold at first and the whole thing is strictly physical but one time, reader tends to her wounds and she starts getting softer with her after that. Smut + angst if you don't mind.

-🍃

Thank you for being my very first request!

Let's get into it!

Pat, Pat, Pat.

Your face falls in defeat as your hands meet an empty mattress.

Why does she always do this to me? It's my fault, she always does this. I don't know why I expected different.

Vi always did this to you. Fucking you, using you for comfort, leaving you alone in the morning, and then acting like nothing ever happened. You thought you would get used to it, but you never do. Everyone tells you to leave her alone, but you just can't. You just can't.

With a bouquet of whatever flowers could find in Zaun, you stood waiting for Vi to come out of the pit. She had won her match, and you were so proud of her.

As soon as you see her beautiful figure, you stand up and straight and attempt to talk.

"Vi, you did so good..."

Your head turns as she walks right past you. You run to catch up to her, stopping right in front of her with your bouquet to her chest.

"I got these for you." You say nervously.

"Why are you here." Vi spits out.

Blinking two times in confusion, a little laugh comes out of your mouth.

"What do you mean? I came to support you. I always want to support you."

"Look, I don't need any fangirls. Please, go on somewhere." Vi says with an eye roll.

You stand there in shock as Vi pushes the flowers back to you and walks away.

As your shock fades away, you quickly decide that you won't let Vi slip from you this easily.

She's just hurt is all. She just needs somebody who won't give up on her, somebody to care.

The next time you saw Vi at one of her matches, she got her ass beat. Her lip was busted, her nose was bleeding from her piercing, and her left one had a shiner on it.

Goddamn

You wait, like always, for her to come out of the pit. When she does, she looks pissed.

"Vi-"

"I don't have time for your fucking fangirly bullshit! Haven't I fucking told you that before! When will you finally get it through your fucking skull that I just like to fuck you?" Vi yells as blood spills from her lip.

With a second thought, you dig in your pocket and pull out a handkerchief for her to wipe her lip with. You hold it out to her, and she looks at you in disbelief.

"I have ointment and gauze for your nose, too if you need it." You speak calmy.

Vi continues to stare at you with her jaw dropped.

"I know you don't care about anything but sex when it comes to me, but I am not the same. I want you to be good. I want you to be more than good. You don't have to feel the same but at least let me heal you a bit. We can have sex after that, and then you can leave."

A beat passes before Vi gives in.

"Fine, but you better make me dinner, too, and I definitely want sex."

With a light laugh, you agree, and you both make the journey to your house.

After entering your house, Vi plops herself on her couch.

"Are you thirsty?" You ask.

"You got beer?" Vi responds.

"Yes. Here you go."

You give the beer to her and then go to the back to get your healing kit.

You sit next to Vi and ask her to turn your way.

"I'll try to be as careful as possible. It might sting a little."

As you heal Vi's face, her body relaxes, and she starts to ask you questions about your life.

How did you get into healing? How do you know how to cook. Where did you find those flowers?

You politely answer every question until you finally finish.

"All done! You did so well." You say cheerfully.

A rosy shade paints Vi's face as she hears your praise. With a cough, she asks roughly, "What for dinner?"

"Oh, I forgot! I was thinking we could have fried fish and rice. Is that okay?"

"Yeah, that sounds alright." Vi says nonchalantly despite doing jumping jacks in her head as the thought of a home cooked meal.

As you cook the meal, Vi gets up and stalks towards you.

"What are you doing?"

You nearly jump 10 feet in the air as her voice suprises you.

"Oh, my fucking God Vi, you scared me! I'm breading the fish."

"What's "breading the fish"." Vi says, making quotations in the air.

"It's when you put the chicken in eggs and flour before frying it. It's what makes the fish crispy."

"Mmm." Vi hums as she puts her arms around your waist.

Vi's lips trail down you neck as her hands crawl up the inside of your top.

You moan softly as you fail to push her away. "Vi, I'm trying to cook."

"Cook later, I'm horny."

"I thought you wanted dinner." You puff out.

"I want pussy more." She muffles out into your neck. Continuing, she says, "Plus, I gotta make it up to you for being such as asshole earlier."

"It's okay, Vi. I understand that you're just frustrated sometimes. You don't have to make it up to me." You sigh out in ecstasy as Vi rubs circular motions on your breasts.

"Lemme make it up to you, cupcake."

"Let me turn off the stove." Quickly, you turn off the stove and allow Vi to pick you up to take you to the bedroom.

As soon as Vi lays you on the bed, you immediately start taking each other's clothes off.

The first thing Vi does as she sees your breast is suck on them. She swirls her tongue around your nipple while she palms your other breast. You moan and arch into her touch as she works your body.

"Fuck, Vi, don't stop." You say as you begin to rub quick motions on her clit. She groans into your mouth, her cum coating your fingers. Vi moves away from your breast, trailing kisses down your stomach, happy trail, to the top of your pussy. She plants a kiss there before attempting to dive into you.

"Wait," you say with a heavy breath.

"What?" Vi says with a confused look.

"Let's do 69, I wanna eat your pussy."

A grin splits across Vi's face at lightning speed as quickly moves into position. As soon as her pussy is in front of you, you dive into each other like a five-course Michelin meal.

Both of your moans resound throughout the entire room as you tongue fuck and clit suck each other's pussies into oblivion.

"Fuck, suck my clit harder." Vi demands as she rocks against your face. Quickly obeying her command, you attach your lips to her and suck like a vacuum.

She does the same to you and in a matter of second you both come hard, shaking against each other. Vi rolls off of you and stares at the ceiling in a daze.

"Shit, that felt so good, Vi. You ready for dinner now?" You ask innocently.

Vi nods her head weakly. With a chuckle, you get up out of bed, clean both of you up, and start on dinner.

"Damn, I think fucking love her," Vi whispers to herself.

[peachhcs]

https://www.tumblr.com/peachhcs/768315021606469633/httpswwwtumblrcompeachhcs768260981215330304

oh my god. i love them so much and im so glad they are doing better!

mack is so fucking funny… wait till he sees all the scratch and hickeys all over will…

part 12/slight bonus! writing macklin's dialogue and banter is my favorite thing to do bc he obviously loves will and samy and loves to poke fun at will about every single thing

au masterlist

part 1, part 2, part 3, part 4, part 5, part 6, part 7, part 8, part 9, part 10, part 11

"sooo, tell us about your weekend," thomas asked as soon as he got the chance once practice was over for the day on monday. the others circled in around him and the blonde just as curious to know too.

will flushed from where he sat at his stall cleaning himself up and preparing for a shower, "it was really good. we had a lot of fun."

"you gotta bring her to one of our parties. we're dying to meet her after hearing so much," eklund cut in with a little smirk.

the sharks players had been itching to meet samy since they found out she was their rookie's longtime best friend and girlfriend. they'd only heard stories and seen the photos.

"yeah, maybe next time or when she comes to a game," will hummed, glad his teammates were eager to meet her. it reminded him of boston and his linemates who were also just as excited to meet samy when they moved to plymouth.

"how much fun did you guys really have?" thomas poked some more obviously just in good fun, but also to tease the blonde.

"let's just say will's passenger seat was not in the right position when i got into it," macklin cut in before will could answer.

the bonde's face quickly burned in embarrassment as he eyed his friend to shut up.

"woah..did you guys go at it?" thomas continued along with a few snickers from the others around them.

"maybe," will tried playing it off. he didn't mind the teasing, but he did kind of mind telling them about his sex life because obviously, that was a pretty intimate and private topic that he wasn't going to willingly share with everyone.

"aw, come on. don't be shy. you totally did," ecklund roughed up will's arm in a teasing manner. all the hockey player did was shake his head slightly and play it off with a smile.

they seemed to lay off for now which will was grateful for. he escaped back into the showers to clean himself off and get out of the rink before anyone else wanted to poke at him about his weekend.

by the time him and macklin got back into his car, most of the guys were gone already so the blonde evaded any more questions they had. the two threw their stuff into the back and then got themselves situated in the front seats.

as will messed around with some things before starting the car, he didn't realize his shirt had ridden up and exposed a bit of his back. macklin was adjusting himself and snapping his seatbelt into place when his eyes caught sight of will's exposed skin and then the slight red.

"woah, you take too hot of a shower or something?" the brunette wondered to which will grew confused.

"huh?"

"your back is like red. you good?"

still, will was confused so he reached around to touch his back where the skin was exposed. he felt around, not feeling anything tender, but his fingers did brush over a line of raised skin.

"just let me see for a second," macklin offered, wanting to make sure his friend was okay. he helped will lift his shirt up more and that's when he saw more red marks running up and down will's back like someone attacked him.

"holy fuck, why is your back all scratched up?"

as soon as the question left his lips, macklin immediately knew and will remembered at the same time. the brunette scrunched his nose up, "dude, what the fuck. this too? jesus, how hard did you go this weekend?"

the blonde's face flushed in more embarrassment as he quickly pulled his shirt all the way down. "what? we didn't go that hard," will defended himself.

"how many times did you even fuck? i know the car was 1," macklin raised his eyebrow and will seriously couldn't believe he was having this conversation again.

"i guess 3. the other 2 were in my room," he admitted a bit sheepishly.

"oh my god. you're disgusting. remind me to never be in the same house as you two.," macklin shook his head like he was some disappointed dad hearing all of this.

"hey. if you had a girlfriend right now, i know you'd be the exact same, so i don't wanna hear it," will rolled his eyes.

"please tell me that's it. please tell me i'm not gonna discover anything else remaining from this weekend that has to do with that," macklin made a circular motion with his hand towards will, a look of disgust still on his features.

"there's hickeys on my chest, but that's it. swear it," will watched macklin roll his eyes hearing that.

"jesus christ, smitty. you guys are hornyyy, wow. i gotta go home and drink bleach so i never think of this again," the brunette shook his head which earned him the middle finger as will finally pulled out of the parking lot.

"you're so over dramatic. what happens when you get a girlfriend?"

"we won't be as horny as you two," macklin shot right back without mssing a beat.

"and what happens if you guys end up having to do long distance and don't see one another for weeks on end?" will raised his eyebrow.

"that will be none of your business," the younger boy crossed his arms.

"right. can't wait to see the hickeys on you then. i'll tease you all about it," the blonde grinned and macklin shoved him.

it was safe to say neither of them talked about the occurrences in will's car ever again. or at least until samy came back to visit. the younger brunette made sure to stay far, far away while she was in town again.

[talesfromawannabejournalist]

Leathery Love

@things-arent-what-they-seem66 here's part one, hope you enjoy

and @lilacwriter07 enjoy your early Christmas present

Lilith: I'm leaving you Lucifer

After twenty years of marriage never did Lucifer ever imagine those words ever being uttered from the love of his life's lips. Especially not on the day of their wedding anniversary.

Lucifer: What?

Was all he could say to Lilith who looked both tired and disappointed with him as she sat at the table with her arms crossed. They were supposed to be eating a meal together, drinking some wine, then watching a movie. They were at home at Lilith's insistence from a few days ago. She said she wanted to spend the evening with just him. No one else was to see what she wished to do.

He just thought she wanted to try something new. Not break his fucking heart in private so no one can see him cry.

Lilith: I said I'm leaving you Lucifer, I want a divorce.

Lucifer felt his heart start to pace as his breathing slowly turned erratic.

Lucifer: But, but, but I, I don't...why Lily

Lilith bristled at the nickname for a moment before answering.

Lilith: Because I no longer wish to be in a relationship where I fell out of love with you years ago. I swore that when Charlie moved out, I would finally bring myself to get out of a place that has only brought me misery.

With that she stood up and headed upstairs. Lucifer was still reeling when about five minutes later she was coming back down with two bags full of her stuff. Her stuff. Lucifer's eyes widened at the sight of them. It meant,

Lucifer: Lilith please, I beg of you don't go! Please! Lilith

He ran to her when she got to the doors. She stared him down as he stood in front of her exit; however, Lucifer could only stare up with tears starting to stream out onto his pale cheeks.

Lucifer: Lilith...please my darling I'm sorry for whatever I did wrong.

Lucifer then proceeded to do something he'd never thought he'd do in his lifetime due to the man's humungous pride and ego.

Beg

He fell on his knees, clasped his hands together, and begged for her to change her mind. Never did Lucifer ever felt so pathetic in his entire existence. He thought that it would get Lilith to at least think about doing something other than divorce. However, the thirty-eight-year-old singer had already made up her mind a long time ago.

Lilith: I'm sorry Lucifer, but I don't think you were ever meant to be mine.

With that she stepped aside, threw open the doors of their large, grand home and walked out. Never to step inside her former home again. All while Lucifer kneeled on the ground in total despair. It was only when he heard a car engine turning on did, he turn around and saw Lilith pull out of the driveway with her purple convertible and proceed to drive away did he close the door behind him to let out the anguish sob that had built up in his throat.

--

(Two months later)

Lucifer felt like his life was slowly falling apart. Ever since Lilith left, she had been sending him papers and been talking through her lawyer to him. Lilith had been one the most shining aspects of his life. In the entirety of their marriage, he devoted to making her happy. Including to working hard to provide for the both of them. So that way she could work on her music career. He bought her anything she wished for; heck he'd buy her the greatest diamond in all the world to make her happy.

In the end he guessed it just wasn't enough. When she sent him the final paperwork to sign off on their divorce completely shut the once proud, strong man down. Lucifer hadn't been out of the house in weeks and had mostly been taking to moping around the house. Or just laying all day in his bed, not sleeping, just staring up the ceiling, wall, or even occasionally the tv in his room that he put on for white noise. He didn't even go to the office.

Which would have been worse if Lucifer wasn't the boss of his toy company. Even if lately, he's been having his brother/partner Mammon and his assistant Moxxine take care of his work for him. Speaking of family, his brothers, sisters, and even daughter had seen how bad his depression had been and wanted to help him. Especially his daughter Charlie, who went to her Uncle Ozzie and begged for her to find a way to make him feel better. Since him and Ozzie have been the closest out of all seven siblings. Oz had an idea, but he didn't know if it would work

Lucifer: A sex dungeon?!

Lucifer sat across from his brother in his living room while in his robe. Oz noticed he also had deep, dark bags underneath his eyes. His hair looked a bit oily, and he appeared to be growing some hair around his muzzle. However, despite his shaggy appearance his body was rigid, his stark blue eyes wide awake as he took in what his brother just suggested.

Ozzie: Hun, please I know this might seem a lot and too soon after...

Lucifer: I don't care about ugh her. Look Oz even if I wasn't hung up over losing my wife, I don't think it would be right to go to fucking prostitutes!

Ozzie: But that's the thing though I really think these girls or boys can help you, Luci!

Lucifer: How!? How in the hell can they help me!?

Ozzie: By helping you get over Lilith. If you're with one those bad guys down, there soon Lilith will be nothing more than a distant memory. Plus, I distinctly remembering you telling me about this one domniatrix porno you kept watching. You kept telling me how you wish you could be Lilith's naughty boy. Well now you can do that! Just you know not with her.

Lucifer: I told you about that. Since when?

Ozzie: Since that time at that barbeque back in July where you got drunk and confessed to me.

Lucifer must've been hard hammered drunk to have told his brother about that. Since usually Lucifer was extremely private when it came to what happened in his bedroom. The blond man opened his mouth to once again reject his brother's offer but then stopped to think about it. It had been so long since he'd been in the warmth of someone's arms in the bed. Even before Lilith left, she had been distant from him for quite some time.

It actually was the reason for Lucifer looking up on those sites in the first place. He knew no love would be with the person he'd be with; he still wanted to forget about his heartbreak. Even if it was for only one night. Taking a breath, he looked straight at his expecting brother and said,

Lucifer: Alright, I'll go.

[s4bbatical]

Please, Please, Please, Let Me Get What I Want | Part 4. (Rivals Declan O'Hara x Reader 18+)

see masterlist (PINNED) for all parts

warnings: mentions of sex, cigarette and alcohol use. age gap (reader!22)

━━━━━━☆━━━━━━

Cont’d.

You were still sat in the parking lot. You wipe your eyes with your hands, smearing your mascara before wiping your nose on the sleeve of your coat as you turn on the engine. The radio begins to play Don’t You Want Me by The Human League. You groan as you change the station. Heart Of Glass by Blondie begins to play instead.

“No, nevermind. I hate my life.” You say bitterly, turning off the radio entirely. You begin to drive away with The Corinium in your rearview. “God this is so fucked!” You exclaim to no one, trying to keep yourself level enough to not crash the hunk of metal on wheels.

You manage to drive the rest of the way in complete silence back to your home. You put the car in park, resting your forehead against the steering wheel to cry, very loudly, once more.

A passerby and her child both stare at you like you were mentally unwell, causing you to forcibly smile through your tears and give them a thumbs up. As they clear out of view, you sigh and finally get out of the vehicle.

You kick off your shoes as you enter your apartment, throwing your coat over your armchair. You open your fridge in an instant, pulling out the bottle of wine Taggie had gifted you a week ago.

"Incase of any personal celebrations, y/n." She had told you. To be fair, she never said you couldn't just simply drink it to wallow in pity.

Two hours later and one wine bottle down, you're loudly doing karaoke to your favorite radio station. You've barely had anything to eat due to stress that day, and the alcohol was getting a real grip on you. You're laying on the couch, slurring your lyrics as the phone begins to ring incessantly.

"Go away...!" You moan, covering your ears with a throw pillow. It goes off once again, causing you to finally get up and answer.

"Hello who is this? What do you want?” You say, barely coherent enough for the person on the other end.

"Y/n? Where are you?" You hear Declan say, lots of commotion in the background. He was definitely at Bar Sinister, celebrating with everyone else.

"Home, obviously. You called my landline." You say in annoyance, leaning against the wall.

"I mean, why aren't you here? I wanted to see you and... and talk about things." He says quietly. You could imagine him at the pay phone in the corner of the bar, hiding his conversation from everyone else.

"I'm not coming there." You mumble into the phone, toying with the cord. "Your wife doesn't want me anywhere near you, didn't you know that?" You ask in confusion.

There's a moment of silence before Declan speaks again. "No, I didn't." He says. "That's... I had no idea, y/n. I'm so sorry for bringing you into this." He mutters with an incantation of disappointment behind his words. "I am my own person, I hope you know that. My wife isn't allowed to choose what I do if she lets herself do whatever."

"I know, but I don't want to be the reason you lose your job Declan, or your marriage." You whisper, trying to not cry once again. "I'm sorry, I'm really fucking drunk. I don't know if I can talk right now." You stammer, trying to hold down the bile coming up your throat.

"I understand y/n. But please, let's talk about this." Declan pleas.

"I have to go, I don't feel so good." You hastily hang up the phone, nearly falling over yourself as you make it to your bathroom. You lean over the toilet on your knees, throwing up into the porcelain bowl. You can hear the phone ringing again, but you have no power to answer it again. You lean your head against the seat, groaning. At least you felt a bit better after throwing up.

You eventually get up, retrieving some ibuprofen from your cabinet and popping two in your mouth, running the sink and dipping your mouth underneath it in order to swallow the pills. You knew your liver was spiteful of you right now, but you didn't care as long as you were going to feel better later.

You bring yourself to the kitchen, grabbing a glass and filling it up with water. You take small, consistent sips in order to avoid puking again. You walk over to your couch and put the glass down on the side table, slumping into it as your music continues to blare throughout the living room.

-

You wake up to loud, repetitive knocks on your door, wiping your mouth clear from drool.

"Fuck I fell asleep." You whisper, looking at the clock. It had only been an hour.

You begrudgingly get up, turning down your radio before walking over to your front door. You undo the latch, opening it to reveal Declan.

He turns and faces you, hand on his hips like an annoyed father. You both stare at each other, Declan taking in how disgruntled you looked. Hair knotted, eyes surely puffy. You must've looked insane.

“Declan? How did you know where I live?” You ask, bewildered by his presence.

His face softens when he sees you. "Don’t worry about that.“ He says. “I got worried when you disappeared over the phone, so I came to see if you were okay." He explains.

“Okay… Well, I’m clearly doing great.” You say weakly, gesturing to yourself.

“Y/n, can I please come in?” Declan asks, frowning slightly.

You nod, stepping out of the way to allow him entrance.

Declan had never been in your apartment before, taking in the layout and decor mindfully. "Your apartment, it's very... you." He comments, looking at the black cat clock ticking back and forth on the wall with curiosity.

"Is that good or bad?" You mumble, closing the front door and locking it.

"Good, very good." He says, turning back to face you. "Seb told me you just got up and left before the interview was over. Did that have anything to do with me?" He says, cautiously stepping closer.

"I'm not gonna lie, I'm still drunk." You admit, holding up a finger. “But, Maud called me at my desk right before the interview. She found out because I left my stupid fucking bra behind by accident and now I have done irreparable damage.” You breathe out, laughing at yourself so you don't cry.

Declan says nothing, slowly taking you into an embrace. “You didn’t do anything wrong.” He whispers into your hair. “I made the choices, not you.”

“But it’s still my fault, too.” You barely say loud enough, a few stray tears leaving your eyes again. You do not reciprocate the hug, simply staying limp in his arms. You had worn yourself down.

“Please, don’t cry.” Declan sighs, pulling back to wipe your tears with his thumb. “I can’t stand seeing you like this.”

Your stomach loudly grumbles, causing you to laugh again. “Sorry.” You say meekly, holding your stomach.

"Have you had anything to eat since this morning?" He asks, furrowing his brows as he grabs your arms.

"No, I haven't been able to keep anything down." You mumble, your stomach grumbling again on cue.

"Jesus, y/n. Please go lay down and watch the telly, I'm gonna cook you something." He says, directing you to your couch.

"I don't really have any groceries. I need to buy some more." You explain as you lay back down, Declan opening your fridge to reveal some skimmed leftovers, two eggs and a block of cheese.

"Mm, I see." He closes the fridge. "I'm gonna go to the store quickly, then. Stay put and keep drinking your water." He says, heading back towards the front door.

"Declan, you don't have to-" You try to say.

"Ah, don't argue please." He turns to you to say. “I’ll be back.” He opens the door and disappears back outside, closing it behind him.

You close your eyes and sigh. With the dull ache in your head and your lack of energy, you had no power to fight with Declan. You were afraid of the consequences of his arrival, but he was just as stubborn as the rest of them. Nothing you could say or do would stop him from giving a damn about you.

About fifteen minutes later, Declan returns. “I hope you like having fruits and vegetables. Taggie’s taught me to be more concerned about my diet, trying to spread the good word.” He says, taking off his shoes after placing two plastic bags worth of groceries on the counter.

“If you can manage to fit all of that in my shitty little fridge, I’ll applaud you.” You say, opening one eye to look over at him. “Thank you Declan. For this.” You say, sitting back up.

“It’s nothing, really. I’m the reason you’re feeling like shit, it’s up to me to change that.” He smiles, although seeming quite tired himself.

“Are you sure you should be here? I’m just worried if anyone–“

“Don’t worry about it. Like I said, what I decide to do is on my own volition. I’m a grown man, y/n.” He says matter-of-fact, leaning over your kitchen counter.

“You should be celebrating with everyone. You shouldn’t be here.” You try to say sternly, crossing your arms.

Declan stands up straight, mimicking your body language. “I told everyone I needed to go home. Taggie and Maud already left before I did so I highly doubt they know, nor care.” He explains, opening a box of pasta. “I hope you don’t mind a simple spaghetti dish, I’m not as great of a cook as you or my daughter are.” He admits meekly.

“Do whatever, I’m not stopping you from anything clearly.” You sigh, laying down once more.

-

After you and Declan eat dinner together, he allows you to fall asleep with your head in his lap while watching the T.V.

When you wake up the next morning, you found yourself in your bed with your nightgown on somehow, realizing Declan must’ve, quite literally, tucked you into bed.

A piece of paper from your daily planner lies on your bedside table, picking it up as you slowly read it through heavy eyelids.

Y/n,

I hope you slept well, and had pleasant dreams of home. I’m sorry I couldn’t stay around, I would’ve if I could.

With that being said, I want to give you the choice of whether or not you wish to continue with us. I know that I told you no one can affect my choices, and I am firm with knowing what I want; but I do not wish to ignore your needs or wants. You are your own person as well. I care about you greatly, and have found myself more fond of you as time goes on. However, it is not worth being selfish at the cost of your suffrage.

I want what is best for you, and I hope you do too.

P.S., Leftover spaghetti for you in the fridge.

Sincerely,

Declan

You slowly put the paper back down, tucking your knees into your chest as you wrap your arms around your legs. It was Sunday, technically you had until tomorrow to give him an answer if you were to be kind about time.

What were you going to do? You couldn't deny it; you were beginning to fall in love with Declan O'Hara. Quite frankly, you think he might be feeling the same way. Would he leave his wife for you? That would be ridiculous. Everyone cheats on their partners here, but no one divorces. God forbid, right?

You get up finally after staring at the wall for ten minutes, begrudgingly walking into the living/kitchen space. All your dishes were washed and left out to dry, thanks to Declan.

You smile to yourself, grabbing ahold of the phone off the receiver with an idea. You dial Seb's number, waiting a few moments before he picks up.

"Hello, Seb speaking." He says groggily, clearly had been woken up by your call.

"Seb, hi. Sorry for calling at eleven in the morning." You jest, poking fun at his tired voice considering it wasn't even that early.

"Y/n, nice to hear from you. Is everything alright? You don't sound too well." He asks, yawning.

"Erm, no. I don't feel well, I think I've gotten the flu or something." You say, your hangover making you sound like you weren't lying. "Would you mind taking on my tasks at work for the next few days? Tell Tony for me, he honestly scares me too much for me to call him myself." You admit sheepishly, rubbing your forehead. In full honesty, you wanted to avoid the office like the plague. You were at the tipping point of whether or not you go back to America and pretend none of this ever happened.

"Course, I'm sorry to hear about that. Can I do anything for you? Bring you meds or tea of the sort?" Seb offers.

"No, thanks though. I'm just gonna rot with what I've got kicking around here. My mom's a health nut, she sent me here with all kinds of crap." You say, leaning against the wall.

"Alright then. You got it, madam. Take care of yourself yeah?" He says.

"Will do. See you Seb."

"Bye y/n."

You mount the phone back on the receiver, keeping your gaze on it as you continue to lean against the wall. You debated calling Declan as well to thank him for everything last night, but you fought against it. You'd rather sit and hide until you sorted out your mind before speaking to him again. It was only fair, really.

You walk over to your fridge, retrieving the container of spaghetti. You grab a fork as well, making your way to the couch. You turn on the television and begin to eat the leftovers. You didn't care enough to warm it up, you felt like punishing yourself by eating it cold.

-

As the the week passes, you find yourself indulging in your old hobbies, such as reading and painting. You bought a cheap art set from an art supply store on the shopping strip a few blocks away from your home, and used books from the secondhand shop. Taggie had come to hang out with you twice, chalking up your absence from work due to being homesick. Although your free time was peaceful, you knew better than to waste away instead of going to work.

On the day of Miss Corinium, you had clocked back into work. Seb convinced you to do so, and caught you up with what you missed in the meantime.

"So the Thatcher interview went to James Vereker instead?" You ask in bemusement, walking down the hall alongside your colleague.

"Yep, and Declan did not take it kindly. He took the week off as well, actually. Neither of you have been in until now. People suspect he had more things going on and that was just the final nail in the coffin." Seb says, both of you returning to your desk space.

"Really?" You ask, trying to hide your worries behind gossiping with Seb. It was quite entertaining, really. You wouldn't have expected him to be the nosiest out of everyone else, but you kept getting surprises every other day.

"Yep, drinking like a fucking maniac too." He adds sympathetically. You frown at that statement, becoming increasingly worried for Declan as minutes pass.

"Come on everybody, down to the stage please." Tony exclaims, everyone getting up from their stations.

You make your way down alongside Seb, noticing Daysee hastily walking ahead the two of you.

“Daysee!" You exclaim, the blonde turning around with wide eyes. "I've missed you!" You go to hug her, in which she backs away like a scared cat.

"Sorry, not right now." She quickly whispers, continuing to walk away. She seemed as though she'd been crying.

"What the fuck is happening?" You ask Seb, who shrugs in equal confusion.

As you all make it to the sound stage, you see Declan nearly tripping over his own feet. His eyes land on you, causing your breath to hitch in your throat.

“Y/n, long time no see.” He slurs, leaning up against the wall to smile at you.

“Get a fucking grip, O’Hara. What the fuck are you doing?” You seethe, disappointed by his actions.

“What’d mean? The fuck are you doing? Haven’t said a word to me all week.” He mutters, trying to reach for the glass behind you.

You grab his arm tightly, causing his eyes to go wide. “This is not the time nor fucking place for this. I have every right to keep to myself. I’m doing my job and you’re doing yours, right?” You whisper harshly, pushing his arm back to him. You step back and watch as Seb attempts to entice Declan with a mug of water, to which he takes begrudgingly as he keeps his eyes on you.

"Daysee, nice dress." He compliments the blonde as she walks by, who gives him a look of distraught as she begins to cry.

You and Seb instantly look at each other in understanding. He forcefully gives Declan back his blazer before following her.

Declan looks at you with confusion. “What’d I do?” He asks.

“I don’t know, but maybe you can do us all a favour and shut the fuck up.” You retort, following Seb.

-

You were fuming in that control room.

You sat directly beside Daysee, who gripped your hand the whole time. She barely looked at anyone as she called cues, causing you to trace your thumb over her hand as you tried not to frown yourself. She did not wish to speak on it further or make a bigger deal of it, to which you and Seb both respected as the show had to go on.

James Vereker and Sarah Stratton go on to introduce all the judges, your stomach growing a pit as James says Declan's name, the camera cutting to a very intoxciated O'Hara. "Back in the saddle after his indisposition earlier this week." He quips, the camera then moving onto the last and very, very least man on the panel.

"Ex-prebendary from the Church of England, Reverend Fergus Penney." Sarah says, everyone clapping along at the line up.

Daysee's grip on your hand tightens as Reverend Penny appears on screen, causing you to press your forehead to her shoulder briefly as the show continues on.

You watch as the television screens show Declan seeming rather displeased with who he was sat beside. You begin to realize he may know what has gone on, repositioning yourself in your seat as you continue to watch onwards.

Seb attempts to put a hand on Daysee's shoulder, to which she jumps slightly.

"Don't." You whisper, shaking your head at him as he steps back. You wince as you watch Declan barely manage to fill a glass of water.

"Reverend Penney, are you looking for perfection tonight?" James asks after they showcase a lineup of young, fit women.

"Oh... well, perfection is not my concern. The qualities that I'm looking for in the inaugural Miss Corinium, uh, consists of, uh, a healthy body and sound morals." The old man says, causing you to purse your lips. Hypocrite. You think to yourself.

As if Declan has read your mind, he begins to interject. "You filthy, hypocritical, old git." He spits out, standing up to sucker punch Reverend Penney.

The entire control room gasps at the sight, along with the audience.

"What the fuck is he doing? Cut the feed." Cameron Cook exclaims, everyone rushing to end the livestream.

You race over the the viewing glass, watching Wesley Emerson hold back Declan from fighting furthermore.

"You'll get what's coming to you!" Declan yells, pointing at Reverend Penny.

"He's ruined everything." Daysee says.

You turn around, watching everyone stare in dismay. After a minute of standing in silence by yourself, you quickly make your way through the room, pushing the doors open to find Declan.

As you run doing the hall, you hear commotion in the office.

You watch as Declan pins Tony against the wall, then eventually proceeds to take a golf club and throw it through the glass. You gasp, covering your mouth.

Declan sees you, his face dropping as you both stand there, staring at each other.

Without hesitation, you gather your belongings and begin to head back down the hallway, this time going towards the exit.

"Y/n, wait!” Declan yells, following you down the stairs. "Y/n, stop! I need to talk to you!"

You push through the rotating entrance door, taken aback by Freddie and Rupert waiting with a car right in front.

"Y/n, are you okay? Do you need a lift?" Rupert asks, noticing your bewilderment as Declan charges outside behind you.

"No, I have my own car. Thanks though." You say, attempting to walk away.

"I just quit my job." Declan says suddenly, directed towards everyone. You look back at him with wide eyes.

"Get in the car, lads. Let's get rat-arsed." Freddie suggests, Rupert opening the door for Declan.

"Y/n, please let me talk to you." Declan pleas once more, standing in front of you with his back towards the other two.

"Declan," You sigh, looking up at him. "About what?" You ask, throw your arms up then dropping them. You watch him fail to answer, as you two were not alone. "Give it up. Go get rat-arsed, or whatever." You say, squinting in confusion as you say the sentence yourself.

Declan grabs your arm, looking into your eyes. "Please, y/n."

"You’re drunk, Declan." You say firmly, pulling your arm away. “Grow up.” You mutter bitterly.

You watch as Rupert forces him into the car, the door slamming as Declan continues to stare at you through the window. You shake your head in disappointment.

"Y/n..." Rupert says, causing you to look at him instead. "I see how he looks at you." He whispers, smiling with sympathy. "If you really care about him, it's worth fighting for. Believe me." He says, causing your eyes to widen. Did he know too?

"And why should I listen to you?" You say quietly, raising a brow at him.

"Because, I can tell when something is worthwhile than most. Also, between you and me, he seems happier with you around." He adds. "Just trust me." He says, placing a hand on your shoulder before dropping it. "Think about it, yeah?" He finishes, getting into the car before Freddie drives it away.

You stand still for a few seconds, watching the car disappear as you process the day that had fallen upon you. It was rather ludicrous how your first day back after sick leave left you in shambles, but could you expect anything less? Your internship was making you question whether or not journalism was even the career choice for you. It was becoming redundant.

You sigh, making your way to your car.

-

You were sitting in your armchair, attempting to focus on your Murakami novel. Your mind was going a thousand miles an hour, trying to process every single thing that has happened within the past month. It had been two weeks since you last saw Declan, and you were sure you'd never see him again as he did not attempt to reach out to you in any way since his departure at The Corinium.

Tony Baddingham had made you all begin to sign contracts, having to hand them in by Friday as a form of devotion and to not hand yourself off to Declan O'Hara and his band of misfits. Apparently, he was attempting to start up a company to take down Corinium.

As your mind consumes you, you quickly head over to your phone, dialing Seb as per usual.

"Seb speaking." He says.

"Seb, this is fucked up. What is happening?" You ask, biting your nails in a nervous tick.

"I don't know." He sighs. "I can't lose my job, y/n. I have to stay at The Corinium."

"Well, me neither. I'm with you on that." You say. "Do you think Tony's going to start firing us? I can't go back home, this job is all I've got." You explain, your hand white knuckling the cord of your phone.

"No, I don't think so. He’s got us signing papers for god’s sake. What's the worse that can happen? We haven't done anything to make Lord Baddingham think we're with Declan, have we?"

You go quiet for a moment before clearing your throat. "Right, course not. That would be ridiculous." You say, grabbing the back of your neck.

"I'll see you on Monday. It's alright, y/n. We've got each other." He reassures.

"Right, course. Bye Seb." You say, hanging up the phone.

As soon as you hang up the phone, your receiver starts to ring. You pick it up once again in confusion.

"Hello, who is this?" You ask.

"Y/n, it's Taggie." She says quietly.

"Taggie, love, hi. Did you want to come over?"

"...Can I? I feel like my house is falling apart. I could use your company."

"Well of course. Is everything alright?" You querie.

"No, not even in the slightest. I'll tell you once I get there."

"Yeah, no problem. See you soon."

"See you."

You hang up the phone again, groaning loudly. "I swear to god if it is possible to have a heart attack at twenty two it will happen to me of all people." You say to yourself, putting your head in your hands as you rub your face.

About twenty minutes later, Taggie enters your apartment. You gave her a spare key the last time you came over, figuring it would be nice to allow her to come over and keep you company whenever.

"Y/n, I feel like I'm going fucking crazy." She exclaims, taking off her sneakers.

"Do you need a glass of wine or...?" You suggest, already pouring two.

"Well, if you insist." She tries to jest, leaning against the counter as she presses her hands to her temples.

"What's going on?" You ask, sipping your own glass.

Taggie sighs heavily before speaking. "My mum's gone to London, and I don't think she plans on coming back." She says quietly, staring at the counter. "I would be more upset, but I think my parents giving up on each other was a long time coming." She admits, taking a deep sip of her glass.

"What?" You say, nearly choking on your own wine. "Your mom's leaving Declan?" You ask in dismay.

Declan’s washed up attitude was now finally making sense, and you began to feel guilty for not trying to reach out to him. You figured you were doing what was best, but maybe you were too narrow-minded to really know the answer to that one. You couldn’t help but feel a bit excited over the news.

"Yeah... At least I think she is. She left to rejoin the theatre, which means she definitely will cheat on my dad again so I think he gave up on her.” She says quietly.

“I’m sorry Tags.” You whisper, frowning. You hated to see her upset, any person in their right mind could never wish that upon Taggie.

“Not only that,” She continues on. “Rupert and Freddie have created a television company with my father in hopes it'll take out Corinium. Rupert's idea, in order to help my father pay back his debts.” She says, wincing as she finishes off her glass in another large gulp.

"Yeah, I heard about that. Christ um, that's a lot Taggie.” You pause for a moment. “Rupert really cares about you, doesn’t he?”

Taggie shakes her head slowly. “I don’t think he’s doing all this for me, y/n. That’d be absurd.” She tries to argue.

“Right, because he must be so in love with your dad.” You muse, raising your brows.

"That’s not the point!” She groans. “I want you to join us, y/n." She says, offering you a smile. "Well, I want them to hire you so you can leave the Corinium and still keep your work visa. Does that feel sound to you?" She asks, standing up straight.

You put your glass down, engulfing Taggie in a hug. "God, I could kiss you right now." You say, sighing with relief. "Do you really think this'll work? I'm just worried, cause they've got us signing contracts at Corinium." You ask, sitting back down on your stool.

"Mmm, I’ve heard about that myself." She says. "I accidentally came across Charles Fairburn when I was trying to get signatures. He's already willing to be on our team as a mole." She grins. "I'm not forcing you to do the same, but how do you feel about working for Venturer, y/n?" She asks, placing her hand down on the counter.

"Venturer? That's what they've called it?" You hum, picking up your glass and taking another sip of your wine.

You couldn’t figure out whether or not this was a good choice to make. Realistically, this could potentially send you straight back to America. On the other hand, the reason why you took on journalism was to do something you truly loved, which was speaking for the people. You knew if Venturer made it out alive, you’d have a bigger voice on the team.

Plus, maybe it was worth seeing Declan again. Deep down, you still cared greatly for him. It was your own fault that you had confrontation issues and blew up the situation bigger than it had to be.

“Yeah, okay. I’ll do it." You say, causing Taggie to grin from ear to ear.

"Yes! I knew you'd say yes." She cheers, jumping slightly on the spot. “We’re hosting dinner at our house tomorrow night for the team. Care to join us?” She asks, her blue eyes lighting up with joy.

“Yeah, absolutely. How can I say no to a Taggie special?” You grin, the both of you laughing together. You were so grateful for Taggie, it seemed like whenever the two of you spent time together, something always turned around for the better.

-

You find yourself standing front of The Priory the next day. It had been quite awhile since the last time you were there, you couldn’t help but take in the view.

Suddenly, Gertrude comes barrelling around the corner at you. You kneel down, greeting the dog eagerly. “Oh hi baby! I missed you!” You coo, hugging the dog and scratching behind her ears. You hear footsteps, looking up and meeting Taggie’s eyes.

“I’m glad you made it.” She says with a smile on her face. “Everyone’s in the back by the garden. Follow me.” She gestures for you to do so, causing you and Gertrude to both make way to the garden.

As you turn the corner, you’re instantly greeted with Declan’s eyes. Rupert was in the middle of speaking to him when he follows his gaze, smirking when he notices you as well. There were others also sat around the table, a few you recognize and some you don’t.

You give Declan a warm smile, watching him reciprocate it as you sit down across from him, following your nametag.

“Y/n, lovely seeing you.” Freddie says, giving you a classic grin as you chuckle lightly.

“Likewise. It’s been a long few weeks, hasn’t it?” You comment, thanking Rupert when he gets up and pours you a glass of wine. You feel your cheeks warm up as you notice Declan’s eyes never leave you, although you were trying your best to look elsewhere.

“Tell me about it. You’re still at Corinium?” Rupert asks, sitting back down.

“Unfortunately. But erm, if you guys will have me I’ll gladly leave. It just depends on how it’ll go with my work visa and all that. Might have to reapply.” You say, shrugging as you sip your wine.

“We’d be more than happy to do so, y/n. Right Declan?” Rupert quizzes, nudging his frozen friend.

Declan blinks rapidly, clearing his throat. “Right, course. We’d love to have you.” He says quietly, looking down at the table briefly before looking at you again.

“Dinner is served!” Taggie announces, carrying out plates with Caitlin and Patrick, both who have returned home from school.

“Hi y/n.” Caitlin says, giving your shoulders a squeeze after she serves your a plate. You smile at her widely.

“So, how has it been without Maud in the house?” Rupert asks, causing half the table to light up in commotion and the other half to stay quiet.

“Rupert.” Lizzie says firmly, smacking his arm.

“What? Sorry I just wanted to know is all, christ you people are no fun.” He remarks, taking a bite of his food.

“It’s been quiet.” Taggie says suddenly, causing you all to fall quiet. “It feels more peaceful, in a way.” She admits, placing down the last plate of food. “Everyone, please enjoy.” She says, finally sitting down beside you.

You look across the table at Declan, who’s looking down at his feet. You taste the first few bites in silence, keeping your gaze on your plate as you listen to other conversations around you. You decide that maybe it was now or never to have a chance to speak with Declan. You just needed to step out briefly.

“I forgot something in my car, I’ll be back.” You say, getting up from your seat. Declan watches you exit dinner, disappearing around the corner.

“I’ll go get us another bottle of wine.” He says, getting up and re-entering the house.

You figured he wasn’t going to bother speaking to you, your heart sinking as you still walk over to your car incase anyone was watching. You lean up against the beater, biting at your nails.

Nearly jumping to your feet, you hear the front door open, revealing Declan. You realize he must’ve gone through the house to avoid suspicion.

He slowly approaches you, hand in his pockets as he halts about five feet away from you.

You turn to face him properly, clearing a few strands of hair from your face as you cross your arms.

“Hi.” He says timidly.

You’ve never seen Declan so reserved before, it was almost humorous.

“Hi.” You say back. “Nice shirt.” You comment, pointing to the Venturer graphic across his firm chest.

“Thanks. Taggie ordered ‘em. You can have one too if you’d like, they’re inside.” He says, giving you a smile. “Um, how’ve you been?” He asks.

“Been better. Trying to keep myself level, it’s not very easy apparently.” You try to joke, pursing your lips. “I’m sorry about the whole Maud thing. I mean it.” You say, shifting your weight from off the car. “You’ve always deserved better.” You mumble.

He nods slowly, running a hand through his hair. “Yeah well, I insisted she go and be happy. It wasn’t cutting it for her here, she was happier in London and I’m happier here. Nothing stays linear.” He admits, shrugging. “I’m beyond it. I mourned our relationship ages ago.” He adds.

“Do you… miss her, at all?” You ask quietly.

“I miss the person I fell in love with. I think that woman and the one she is now are two completely different people.” He says, smiling sadly.

You nod slowly in understanding. “Do you still love her, then?”

Declan bites the inside of his cheek, pausing in deep thought. “I care about her, but I don’t think she is who I really love anymore.”

You furrow your brows at his response. “I don’t think I understand what you’re saying.”

Declan takes a few steps closer to you. “Y/n, I missed you, a lot.” He admits. “The last time I saw you, I figured that you never wanted to see me again. I wanna know if that’s true or not.”

You drop your arms, staring at Declan as your heartbeat increases rapidly. “Of course I wanted to see you. I just– God, you didn’t call me for two weeks Declan. You didn’t even try to see if that was really how I felt.” You try to argue.

Declan scoffs. “I could say the same, y/n. I didn’t call you because I thought you were crossed with me! The way you spoke to me on my last day at Corinium? How can you expect me to reach out when you gave me the impression that whatever this was-“ He gestures between you two. “-was over with.” He exclaims.

“I don’t know! I figured with the note you left for me that I was worth a call, or even a visit! You drive me fucking crazy because I fell for you, Declan!” You exasperate, Declan’s eyes widen at your statement. “Even if you thought I wanted nothing else to do with you, you could’ve at least tried to–!”

“You have feelings for me?” He whispers.

You pause for a moment, scoffing. “Seriously? That’s all you got from that?”

He steps in close and grabs your face, kissing you desperately.

You don’t react at first, taking in the moment as you begin to kiss him back.

-

After about 20 minutes, the two of you are entangled in the backseat of your car. It took you by surprise that it was even possible to have sex in such a small car, but with the right person– anything is possible.

“I missed this.” You say, humming with your eyes closed. You were sitting on his lap with your head tucked into the side of his neck, your bare torsos pressed against each other.

“Me too.” Declan whispers. “So you like me, eh?” He says, tucking hair behind your ear with a grin. The windows were foggy and your skin was sticky, it felt like a scene from a movie.

You pull your head back and roll your eyes. “I wish I would’ve said it in a better way but… yeah, I think so.” You admit, looking down.

He grabs your chin and lifts it up, forcing you to make eye contact again. “When I said Maud isn’t who I really love anymore, I was referring to you.”

“Ohhh… That makes more sense now.” You say, laughing quietly as Declan shakes his head.

“I thought you were taught literacy in school, y/n.”

“Oh shut the fuck up, Declan.” You say with a smile. “I could stay like this forever.” You whisper.“But we need to get back to dinner before anyone sees us.” You say, earning another kiss from him. You laugh against his lips, his mustache tickling your nose as his embrace around you tightens. “I’m serious, you idiot.” You muse, smacking his arm.

“We’ll talk more about this later.” He says, winking as he places a firm smack on your arse.

“Hey!” You exclaim, rolling your eyes as the two of you begin to redress yourselves before getting out of the car.

Declan goes back through the house, showing up about two minutes after you.

“Where’s the wine?” Rupert asks Declan, raising a brow as his eyes scan over the both of you.

“Ah, couldn’t find the one I was looking for.” He simply says, making brief eye contact with you as you both sit back down.

You couldn’t help but continuously smile through the evening, even kicking your feet a little underneath the table whenever Declan spoke.

You knew it was going to be difficult to tell anyone, but at least you knew Rupert was on your side, even if that wasn’t the most ideal person. Besides, you had a feeling something was going on between him and Taggie; they basically had sex with their eyes whenever they were in a room together. There was little to hide, and it assured you that Taggie wouldn’t be that distraught with the idea of you and her father. Hopefully.

As the evening led on, guests start to leave The Priory, leaving you and the O’Hara’s to get ready for slumber.

You had just finished up saying goodnight to Taggie and Caitlin when you entered the guest bedroom, smiling when you see Declan laying upon the mattress. He was reading your book, glasses on that made him look like a history professor.

“What’re you doing here?” You quiz, walking over to the bed.

“Mm, my bed felt too lumpy.” He mumbles, placing the book on his chest.

“Is that so, princess and the pea?” You say sarcastically, climbing in beside him. You grab the book and place it on the bedside table, allowing yourself to cuddle up beside him with your head on his chest.

Declan wraps his arm around you, keeping his other hand behind his head as he traced his fingers along your bare arm. “Nice book you’ve got there. Maybe you’d be interested in proofreading my Yeates piece.” He suggests, in which you hum in response.

“I’d be honored.” You smile, looking up at him. “Are you gonna tell anyone about us?” You ask quietly. You were afraid of any answer he was going to give, in full honesty. Having to deal with a public relationship between the two of you may do more harm than good.

“I think I’d have to ask you to be my girlfriend first, y/n.” Declan jests, placing his glasses on top his head.

Your cheeks flush, causing you to hide your face in his chest. “Sorry. I shouldn’t have assumed.” You mumble, causing Declan’s chest to vibrate with laughter.

“No, don’t be sorry love.” He squeezes your arm, causing you to look up again. “Y/n,” He clears his throat before continuing. “Will you be my girlfriend?” He asks.

Your stomach flutters as a big smile stretches across your face. “Controversially young girlfriend you say? Yeah… I think I could do that.” You say, sitting up and bringing your legs over to be on both sides of his hips.

“Is that what people call it now?” He muses, looking up at you. “Hm, has a ring to it.” He mumbles, pulling your face into his as he begins to kiss you for what felt like the thousandth time that night.

-

You both had eventually fell asleep in each other’s arms at some point, finding yourself groggily waking up to the sound of commotion downstairs in the kitchen.

Declan is nowhere to be seen, assuming that he had already gotten up for the day.

You sit up and stretch, smiling lazily to yourself. You put on your own Venturer shirt, staying in a pair of pyjama bottoms you had borrowed from Taggie as you make your way down the stairs.

You are greeted with the sight of the Venturer Team once again, everyone discussing something rather solemnly.

“Good morning!” You say, your smile faltering when everyone looks at you with differentiating facial expressions– all mainly of concern.

Taggie walks through the crowd with a frown as she hands over a newspaper, pointing to the cover.

There were photos of you and Declan printed out on the front page, along with Taggie and Rupert. The headlines were accusing of them preying on younger women, most definitely the doings of Tony Baddingham.

You read the article over and over, your eyes widening with every sentence. You shamefully lower it from your gaze, looking at everyone else.

Well, fuck.

-

SHIT…. Fawk… again i know im literally the one writing this but im like 😐🙁😭 why can no one catch a fucking break. brutal

thank you for the support, this series now has over 100 notes just the first part alone YAYY. thank you for your love and devotion. this new part is my gift to you.

i’m hoping to make the next part the last part but i’m quite sure i said the same thing two parts ago so whatever don’t hold me accountable. CHEERS!

as always,

isabel