#like he wants to fall to his knees for her in the way that like

[anistarrose]

[ID: a Gravity Falls fan comic. It opens on a shot of the Mystery Shack, focusing in on Dipper and Mabel in the attic. Dipper sits with his arms around his knees, while Mabel puts up posters on the wall.

Dipper, eyes lowered, says: "I want to go home."

Mabel turns around to look at him, and after a pause, she says: "We could always run away."

Dipper stands, starting to gesture and pace, and says: "Maybe. I don't like Grunkle Stan, he's so... weird."

Mabel: "There's no way he isn't on the run from the law. He's definitely a criminal."

Dipper, looking angry: "Maybe you're right. About running away."

Mabel: "Mom would probably pick us up if we really asked."

Springing over to Dipper's side, Mabel exclaims: "I have an idea! We'll ask the magic 8-ball if we should stay, that way we don't feel bad!"

She digs it out of her backpack, and shakes it.

Both twins stare at it, and Dipper says: "I guess..." as the 8-ball answers: "Yes. Absolutely."

As one of them says: "We're staying," the last panel cuts to Stan outside the door, staring forward with a heartbroken expression. End ID.]

i too would leave important life decisions up to a magic 8-ball

[hysteria-things]

PLEASE WRITE LIKE A LITTLE BLURB OR SOMETHING ABOUT MATT GRABBING READER'S FACE LIKE HOW HE DID WITH CHRIS

thank you😭

TEMPTATION (part two)

𝐃𝐈𝐋𝐅!𝐌𝐀𝐓𝐓 𝐂𝐎𝐋𝐋𝐄𝐂𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: dilf!matt x babysitter!reader

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: you fight to not fall for matt’s charm for the second time the same day, but the tension is too strong that you can’t resist.

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: SMUT, swearing, oral (female receiving), fingering, praising/degradation, p in v (pull out method), stomach bulge

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 1,563

𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫’𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: i want to get through my requests and sprinkle them into fics so if you see something that seems like it was requested a while ago that’s why LOL

clinking of dishes and water running is a good distraction. the sudsy soap coating your hand on the sponge as you wash a plate feels warm on your skin. you’re focusing as hard as you can on your senses, matt standing just a few feet away while you’re helping him clean up after dinner.

he brought evelyn to bed a few minutes ago, and now you can feel him staring into your back. your heart pounds in your chest, thinking about what occurred only this afternoon in this same kitchen. nobody made a peep about it after it happened, but that’s all you’ve been thinking about all day—his cock moving past your lips so naturally, his grunts and groans intensifying the closer he got, his praises, the way he made you look up at him with the soft grip of his hands on your cheeks…

you bite your lip and clench your thighs at the thought, but you shake it out of your head the second it arrives.

you can’t do that again. that was a mistake.

when you dry the last dish and place it into the cabinet above, you jump when you notice matt standing directly in front of you when you turn around. “sorry, didn’t mean to scare you.” he chuckles. “i want to thank you for your help today. you know, with ev and all.”

“you’re welcome.” you say quickly, taking a long exhale. “it’s my job.”

his arms cage you in against the counter, each one planted on the edge of it by your sides. he groans, leaning into where his lips ghost yours, and your chest heaves even faster. he takes his knee and parts your legs with it, pressing firm against your covered mound. he starts kissing down your neck, biting at the skin in the process. not to leave marks, but to show you how desperate he is for you as much as you are for him. “tell me to stop.” he mumbles against your jaw, bringing his face up to meet yours again.

your eyes dart over his features, shaking from how turned on you get from such little contact. “i can’t.” you whisper, heart beating rapidly.

“say it.” he murmurs, teeth nipping at your bottom lip, making you gasp slightly. “say that you want me to stop.”

“no,” you say shakily. he’s so fucking mesmerizing that it annoys you, but you’re aching for his touch, his body, him. it’s only been a month of nannying for him, but goddamn do you need it bad.

matt pulls back, frustratingly running a hand through his hair. you let out a sigh, finally being able to breathe when you think he’s going to walk away, but no. he grabs your hips and lifts you roughly onto the counter, caging you in once again by pulling you towards him with a hand possessively wrapped around your waist. “you’re fucking killing me.” he pants, moving to raise your arms above your head to remove your shirt and unclip your bra. he smirks when you help him get off your leggings, throwing them aside. you wince when the elastic of your panties snaps against your flesh when he rips them off.

“fuck.” he breathes, scanning your body over and over again. “fuck.”

your nipples are hard peaks, breasts moving with each breath you take. there’s a sticky mess on your thighs, your dripping hole aching for his cock. he hurries to get his shirt and pants off, eyes still locked on your flushed body.

“look at her,” he says, thumbs spreading your soaking folds. his eyes look frantic and hungry, pupils dilated almost fully as he admires your pussy. he runs a finger up the slit, and you shiver. “she’s practically begging for me.”

the ticking of the wall clock seems to become louder when you watch him kneel, hot breath against your sensitive heat. he flicks his tongue once… twice… three times over your clit, and you jolt with each lick. he runs a hand over your thigh, squeezing the inside before he starts to suck at your bud, also soaking one of his fingers with your juices before inserting it. a hitched gasp is caught in your lungs, matt putting in his middle finger next.

his eyes roll back, tasting you and fucking you with his fingers at the same time. you whine, gripping tight onto his hair for stability. he groans, adding a third, scissoring the digits nuzzled into your cunt. arching your back, you moan from how full you feel already. you’ve never been fingered with more than two, but this—

you snap out of it when he goes in with four, and you’re so wet that they move in and out quite easily. he hums approvingly, the vibration letting another moan slip out of you. the erotic sounds of his tongue and squelching from his fingers make your toes curl. you can feel him stretch you out at the way he moves his digits, and you clench around them.

keeping your grasp on his head, your low moans turn into whines. he’s eating you out like a starved man as if you’re his last meal. it seems that from now on whenever matt is hungry, he’ll just go for your pussy. your eyes flutter, mouth agape when your hands reach to your tits and clutch hard, twirling your nipples.

he pulls his mouth away from your swollen clit, licking his lips to get an extra taste. his knuckles plunge harder, curling his fingers to hit that spot right where you want it. you start to twitch and quiver, the knot in your stomach snapping the second it appears. he slides out the digits from your still-tight hole.

you’re left a trembling mess, settling down from your orgasm when he stands back up. he wants to kiss you so you can taste yourself, but he can’t. sex is one thing, but kissing you is another. it’s more dangerous because if he does, he won’t ever turn back from wanting you.

instead, he forces his fingers into your mouth, and you lick them clean with a satisfied hum. “good girl…”

then, his palms hold the creases of your knees, lifting and spreading your legs open. his dick throbs, wrapping his hand around the base and pumping himself a couple of times to get him harder than he already is. looking at your naked body while he does so makes him grunt, hair sticking to his forehead from sweat. he nudges the head between your folds, coating it before slowly pushing into you.

“come on.” he grunts in concentration, watching your face contort in pleasure when he pushes in inch by delicious inch. “good girl, stretching out for me.”

you let out a small yelp when he’s balls deep, slamming your eyes shut from the pleasurable pain by accommodating his size. “shh, shh.” he soothes you, pecking your shoulder. he starts thrusting slowly, but gradually gets faster when he feels you split open for him. “there you go.” he sighs contently, spreading your legs even wider to get deeper. “what an obedient slut, taking my cock.”

your hold onto the counter for dear life, moans getting more high-pitched until you slap your hand over your mouth. evelyn is sleeping just upstairs, and you have to remind yourself of that. your vision is blurry from the tears forming in your lids, eyes rolling back so far that only the whites show.

strings of cum connect to his thighs and your cunt, the sight having matt drilling into you faster to the point where his tip reaches your cervix. you feel the bulge in your belly when he bottoms out, and that alone has you clamp down on his dick harder like a vice. he curses under his breath when he sees himself peeking out of your abdomen. “such an innocent whore.” he coos, and you moan from the degrade, it being muffled by your palm. “you like this dick?”

removing your hand, you babble some ‘fucks’ and ‘oh gods’ when you clench repeatedly. you start to spasm again, the same hot feeling building up like it did before. you’re not a screamer by any means, but your pants and whimpers alone have matt’s thrusts get sloppier. he notices your expressions and smirks.

“look at me.” he snarls, hips snapping against your ass and grabbing your face with so much force that your cheeks squish. your eyes flutter to look at him, half-crossed. he smiles menacingly at your dumbed out face before speaking. “i want you to look at me when you cum. i want you to look at who’s fucking you this good.”

moaning in response, some spit coats the corners of your mouth. he can tell you’re close by your incoherent voice and squirming, but he’s also not far behind either. you throw your head back, biting your lip to lessen your filthy sounds when you gush around his cock, milking him for all he’s worth. he pulls out with a wet pop and groans, balls tightening as he spurts hot cum all over your stomach.

it takes a load of silence to get your breathing back to normal and your brain less hazy, tilting your head when you realize something peculiar painted with his semen: the letter ‘M.’

he must be so damn proud of himself.

𝐭𝐚𝐠 𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭!

@bunbunbl0gs @lexisecretaccx @thy-mission @angelic-sturniolos111 @sophssturn @moncherriis @janiellasblog @blahbel668 @meg-sturniolo @mattslolita @sturnbaby @mattgirl4lyfe @tillies33ssss @sturnifyed @raysmayhem-72 @ripmattitude @p1xieswrld @alorsxsturn @multiluvr @delilahprentiss @tworosesblackthorn @gnxosblog @junnniiieee07 @flowerxbunnie @imaslut4kehlani @sturniolosandmoree @hearrtsturns @freshsturns @etershine @sukiipjs @h3arts4harry @sturnioloblogs @creamoncreamoncream2 @ivyyyyyysposts @iluvm4ttsturni0l0 @mbsbaby @mattsdollie @thesturniolos @nononopenono1 @bitchydragonparadise @hrt-attack @dwntwn-strnlo @venusbabysblog @meerkatzthings @bernardsbendystraws @hoes4matthew @sturnsmadl @starz4star

[holylulusworld]

Bad Timing

Summary: He was in love at the worst moment possible.

Pairing: Alpha!Wolverine x Omega!Reader

Warnings: angst, unrequited love, idiots in love, a/b/o, a/b/o dynamics, jealousy

He was in love. The realization hit him out of nowhere, at the worst moment possible. He stared at her from afar, eyes glued to the woman he loved. She smiled wildly and laughed at something someone else but him had said.

He dropped his gaze the moment her eyes drifted toward him to stare at the drink in his hands. The alcohol won’t help him forget how it felt to have her in his arms and bed. 

Why now? Why the fuck must he realize that he’s in love with her right fucking now?

Logan gritted his teeth to keep the purr wanting to escape down his throat the moment she walked his way. He avoided looking at her to not get caught staring. The last thing Logan needed was to draw attention toward him.

You passed him by without as much as looking his way. He huffed and shook his head.

Again, he asked himself. Why now?

Your scent drifted toward him in waves, turning the alpha into an even bigger mess. He huffed and decided to get fresh air.

No. He couldn’t be in love, and he wouldn’t be in love. Not when she… Logan shook his head to forget about all the confusing feelings, bringing him to his knees.

This all-consuming feeling spread in his chest. He hated it with every fiber of his being—or liked to pretend he hated it.

He had to let go of the fantasy he built in his mind. It was for the best not to yearn for an omega he could never have. Not the way he wants her.

“Logan,” your soft voice had him turn his head. You smiled and dared to chuckle as his eyes were glassy. “I asked how you like him.”

“I don’t know,” he angrily replied. Out of all days, you had to bring a date to the bar only the mutants knew about. “Bringing an outsider here wasn’t smart, though.”

You held his gaze. “You know, for a man claiming to have the perfect hearing, you’re deaf when it comes to listening to people.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he said back and puffed his chest. “If you’d excuse me now, I want to enjoy my drink in silence.”

“Hmm…” you cooed, and wrapped your hand around his wrist, holding it in a tight grip to steal his drink. “You shouldn’t have another drink.” You replied and brought the glass to your lips to taste not only the whiskey but him too. “You know what they say about alcohol and libido.”

His eyes widened. You couldn’t mean that. Right. Right? It was impossible for you to feel the same. Not with the guy around you brought to the bar.

Logan cleared his throat to buy himself a moment to think about his reply. “What do you mean?”

“You know what I mean,” you replied so sweetly yet seductively that he almost creamed his pants. “Why don’t we get out of here?” You, the only omega he allowed himself to fall in love with, replied as if it was the easiest thing to say.

“Y/N,” he murmured. “What about your date?”

That made you smirk. “Well, I had to get your attention after you told me our arrangement is over.” You placed both hands on his chest, slowly rubbing him through his shirt. “Why don’t you show me that you lay claim on me, alpha?”

This time, he couldn’t keep the purr down his throat.

Logan grasped for you to throw you over his shoulder like a caveman. He growled as your date dared to step in front of him.

“If you want to breathe another day, get out of my way,” he threatened and slid the claws on his left hand out. “That’s my omega and no one touches what’s mine…”

Tags in reblog.

[minaharkerdailymirror]

"Oh, I would've given you a reason," she admitted, "I'm hard to convince when it comes to having to give up. I'm all...bullets and knives and nails and teeth. It wouldn't have been so happy an ending as this is."

she relaxed as he moved the sponge onto her neck and her arms, "I never wanted to hurt you in those lessons. I was a confusing asshole, I know. I still am one, I'll bet. But I was trying to work it all out in real time. All of a sudden a vampire is at my doorstep who wants to spend time with me...and one I actually like. And it scared me for awhile. There's a lot I wish I could've redone in those early days together. But would it have still led to this moment?"

Him wanting to live separately, her not wanting that, her agreeing to be his companion and then finding their way to falling in love. If any of it had been different would it have led to this?

And with the talking of quests and saving the princess, Mina traced a finger down the back of his hand, locking a pinkie with his, "Tell me, Armand....is there a part of you disappointed I might not want to hunt anymore?"

Would he see his own journey towards higher things cut off at the knees if she decided she didn't want to save people and kill monsters anymore? Would he be happy just as Armand Harker, regular local gallery owner?

"I hadn't heard anything," she confessed, "I was just hoping to catch the bus and I wanted to know when it ended. I had no idea...well...when I saw you I did. And then...Chrisst Armand, it feels like such a lifetime ago. You coming to my door feels like a lifetime ago"

Had it only been a few days?

She turned her back to him, so he could continue washing her, "I didn't know I'd have shown you a new path that night either. I was just worried if I'd turned my back, you'd have killed me. And then we started talking and we sort of fell into it, didn't we?"

She tiled her head back, so she could look him in the eyes, "I don't love anyone like I love you. There won't be anyone else, not for me."

[noxiwrites]

Forbidden

Synopsis ˖ ᡣ𐭩 ⊹ ࣪

The new teaching assistant is too hot for his own good, distracting most of the girls in your class. You’re not too bothered by him, he’s just another pretty face- until you get pulled by him for failing the class. It’s every girls wet dream, getting taught by the hot new teacher- and you find yourself slowly falling into a sickly sweet situation.

Warnings ˖ ᡣ𐭩 ⊹ ࣪

Age gap, inappropriate touching, arguments, angst, eventual smut, obsession, hidden relationship, public sex.

Word count ˖ ᡣ𐭩 ⊹ ࣪

2.3k

Chatter mulls through the room as you sit quietly at your desk, reviewing some of the content for the final year of your class here. You can tell everyone is excited, the final year of this four year course upon you.

You, on the other hand, were less excited. The pressure of the material was very demanding already and you just wanted to get on top of it, keep it down to a minimum so it wouldn’t collapse your entire life.

A door opens at the back of the classroom and the chatter is suddenly gone, a stiff silence falling over the rest of your classmates as they take in someone who is definitely not your teacher, stood at the desk at the front of the class.

Immediately, you hear the hustles of chatter from all the girls in class as they take in the very obviously handsome man stood waiting. He grins, looking around the room and soaking up the attention. You roll your eyes and scoff, not bothered by his pretty face as you look down to review the material for what felt like the ten millionth time.

“Okay guys, enough chatter, let’s get started,” his voice scratches at the back of your brain, something about the way he sounds making you turn all mushy.

“So, you’re probably wondering where Dr.Mendez is, right?” A murmur of agreement washes the room and you glance upward, watching as his hands clasp around a book, stance all flexed as he leans against the edge of the desk. You can see him scanning the room and your eyes meet for a second, him flashing you a brief smile before you’re looking back down, again.

He’s hot. He’s making you all flustered, no doubt like all the other girls in the class- and it frustrated you. You’re just here to learn.

“Well he’s swamped with other classes this year so I’m stepping in to teach, you’re stuck with me,” you can hear the smugness in his tone, basking in the attention from the girls fawning over him.

“I’ll die a happy woman stuck with you, sir,” a whiny voice giggles from behind you and you already know it’s Kendra, a self centered bitch who has done nothing but make your life living hell while being in this class.

He laughs, thanking her, before moving on. You look up again, watching him as he strides around the desk to take a seat on the front of it and opening the book in his hands.

“I’m Rafe by the way. I’d prefer if you guys just called me that,” he looks around the room, thumbing the page he’s currently on as he takes in the entire class. Again, your eyes meet and he smiles again, something you don’t return as you expectantly wait for him to move on with the class.

“Right, so, I’ve been filled in on what you guys have been learning for the past three years, and this is your last year, yeah? Very important.” A chorus of further murmurs flow from the class and Rafe, now you know his name, nods. He slaps his knee, standing as he walks back to his laptop, clicking some buttons before it connects to the large projector.

“I won’t keep you waiting then, let’s get started shall we?”

By the end of the three hour class, you’re exhausted. You’re so ready to climb into your car and get home, climb into bed and have a fat nap. As usual, you’re one of the last to leave class, hating getting caught in the throngs of people all leaving with the same goal as you.

Kendra and her cronies are stood talking to Rafe at his desk as she giggles and twirls her hair around her finger about something he’s saying, and you roll your eyes as you shove your book bag further onto your shoulder and descend the steps down the the bottom of the class.

It really makes you want to scoff, how fucking sleazy she is- really, the guy has just started to teach the class and she’s already trying to get her claws into him. You wonder, sometimes, how she managed to get into an advanced class, but then you remember she was born into money, her perfectly bleached blonde hair and always perfectly manicured nails reminding you of that.

“See you later,” you hear Rafe say and you turn, to see his focus completely on you instead of Kendra. Her scowl could kill if it were possible, mad that his attention is on you rather than her. You smile and nod, waving goodbye before rushing for the door and leaving.

It’s cold out in the parking lot, and you regret parking your car at the far side this morning when you were in a better mood. You’re thankful, however, that this is your only class today and you can just go home and sleep.

The drive to your apartment only takes fifteen minutes, traffic light as a slight drizzle begins to fall on your windscreen, rolling your window down to scan your badge to get into your estate gate.

Your cat greets you through the window of your ground flat as you pull into the parking spot in front of it, turning the engine off and grabbing your stuff before rushing to the door, leaving down to greet whiskers as you close the door.

“Let’s go to bed, eh?” You ask, and he purrs, following you down the hall. When you’re finally relaxed in bed, you find yourself thinking of the new teaching assistant, wondering if he knows what he’s signed himself up for.

“Good morning guys, we ready to start?” Rafe asks the room, cup of something steamy in his left hand. You can hear Kendra giggle from behind you and you just know she’s twirling her hair in her fingers, which makes you sigh.

Today, your friend, Molly, had decided to turn up. You’re grateful, telling her about yesterdays events in a hushed tone as her eyes grow wider the further you tell.

You drop your eyes down to Rafe to see him setting up his PowerPoint again, clicking away on his keyboard.

“Yeah and he literally said goodbye to me, and she was all like grrrr and scowley like? I didn’t do anything,” you tell her, Molly flashing a frown over her shoulder to signify her displeasure. She hates Kendra just as much as the next person.

“To be fair, he is very attractive. I’d be mad if I put that much into my appearance and you stole his attention just like that,” she snaps her fingers to give you an idea of what she means and you blush. You definitely didn’t steal his attention, he was just saying goodbye. Right?

You both fall into silence as Rafe begins talking to the class about different formulas, all the basic stuff that you noticed at the beginning of the content paper. This class is shorter, only being an hour and a half, before you’ve got another class in the afternoon with another teacher.

As you work through the slides, you find yourself glancing at Rafe more and more. You had to give it to him, he was very attractive. Buzzed hair, sharp jawline and sparkly eyes that everytime they looked into your own, sent you dizzy.

Alas, he was your teacher. It begged the question in the back of your head of how old he was, because he didn’t look much older than you to be honest. The slides soon come to an end, Rafe clapping his hands as he thanked everyone for turning up today. Everyone grapples to leave, Kendra hanging by his desk as he lazily entertains her while typing away on his computer.

You bid Molly goodbye as she rushes off out the door, desperate to see her boyfriend before he goes to his next class, leaving you to pack your things as you earwig on what Kendra is saying.

“I think I could do with some extra tutoring, Rafe,” she twirls her hair around her finger again, eyes blazing down at him. Rafe grins, laughing up at her before going back to his computer.

“You’re fine Kendra, I reviewed your papers from last year. No tutoring needed,” you can practically hear the sarcasm from here, and you’re sure Kendra is one more comment away from bursting into tears and ringing her father because the teacher won’t fuck her.

“Oh, okay. If you say so Rafe, but I’m always free,” she scrapes her fingers along his desk, and act that makes you wince as you walk down the steps.

“See you next week, Rafe,” she drawls, before throwing you a scowl, leaving the classroom. You’re about to follow, not wanting to stop and chat, but Rafe does so anyway.

“Hey, I’ve been meaning to speak to you, actually,”

You turn on the spot, swallowing despite suddenly having a dry mouth. You walk back, standing in front of his desk as he closes his laptop and smiles up at you.

“I uh, had a look at your papers from last year,” he begins, but you can’t help your mind from racing already.

“What? I’m not doing anything wrong am I?” You ask, words rushing out of your mouth like you’re spewing.

Rafe shakes his head, eyes never leaving yours. “No, no. I just think you’re lacking some certain aspects that could definitely help you be the top of the class,”

You breathe out, not realising you weren’t breathing at all. He grins, lazily, as he begins to toy with the edge of one of the books on his desk.

“I think I can help you be the best. I’d like to tutor you, if you’d like the help. You can say no and still pass the class but I think the extra help will get you to the top,” he concludes, fingers dancing along the edge of the book.

“I uh, I don’t know. I don’t think that’s very fair one other students,” you quip, pushing your bag up your shoulder. As you do, your skirt pulls up your legs a bit more and you see the brief second his eyes flicker down, before looking back up at you and gulping.

“I can see that, yes. I just think you have the most potential,” you eyes wander back down to his hand, now playing with the edge of the book, other moving up to rest under his chin.

He has nice hands, you think, and immediately want to slap yourself. He’s your teacher.

“Uh, thank you?” It comes out as more of a question and Rafe laughs, circling the edge of the book. You have to pry your eyes away from it.

“You can think. Let me know next Monday, after class. Have the rest of the week.” You nod meekly, smiling lightly at him as you bid him goodbye, heading for the door.

“Oh, and before I forget, make sure you read up on pages one hundred to one hundred and sixty for next week. I know you like to get ahead.”

“You’re going to say yes, right? I mean it’s a no brainer,” she continues, rambling. Truth is, the more you’ve thought about it, the more appealing it sounds. You’d love to be top of the class, make your dad proud, and rub it in Kendras face, like a reminder that money can’t buy grades.

“Like imagine? What if he tries to make a move on you, I mean look at you? Why would he not? Oh my god, this is perfect,” she almost yells, before taking a sip of her wine. You’d not actually thought about that part of it, choosing to mostly ignore it.

But then, if that were his motive, who would he ask you and not Kendra? She was the better option for something like that. You would like to think that it wasn’t one of those deals, that he actually wanted to help you, and that was the part that was convincing you.

“I think I’m gonna say yes, but just for the tutoring, I wanna get better grades,” you tell her, taking a sip of your own glass of wine. Whiskers jumps down from the windowsill next to you, fawning around in your lap before collapsing down and falling asleep. You scratch his head, looking over at your friend who wiggles her eyebrows at you.

“But you wouldn’t turn him down if he made a move, no?”

“I don’t know Mol, he’s just another pretty face to me,” you say, looking over at the tv. You were trying to watch twilight, until you got distracted by rambling Molly who only comes out after some wine.

“Cmon, he’s so totally into you! Turning down Kendra to then offer the exact same thing to you,” she declares, pushing your shoulder back. You have to admit, there may be some truth in her statement, because why would he do that for you but not her?

“I just hope I actually get taught what I’m missing,” you say, causing Molly to roll her eyes. “You’re not missing anything, you’re already one of the top in the class, he just likessss you,” she drawls the likes, making you giggle at her as you bite the edge of your wine glass, contemplating the pros and cons of letting Rafe be your tutor.

You’re going to do it.

Note ˖ ᡣ𐭩 ⊹ ࣪ Hello!! First series I’m actually excited to write ! Teacher Rafe is just 🤩 much love, let me know what you think <3

[gossippool]

GOD OKAY SO i skimmed through the script specifically to look for discrepancies in the character names because i had an inkling they would do something like that and i found exactly what i wanted. i formally present my findings:

so for wade the distinction is pretty clear cut; when the suit and mask are on, he's referred to as deadpool. when he's out of the suit, or even just when his mask is off, he's wade.

pretty simple even though it IS still interesting--he's literally masking when he's in the suit; he adopts a persona that comes off with the mask. but here's the fun part! LOGAN doesn't wear a mask throughout most of the movie, and yet he is referred to as the wolverine sometimes and logan in others.

firstly, take the bar scene:

he's introduced in the script as LOGAN, but the moment the bartender attacks him and wade questions if he of all people is going to let himself be spoken to this way, he becomes WOLVERINE. a defensive wall. and it switches right back to logan the moment he says "you don't want this"--back to the person he is who's lost everything, who doesn't want to fight anymore, instead of his x-man mantle.

same with the scene in the diner:

he's wolverine until he finds the rubbing alcohol and downs it. then he's logan until wade brings up his position as an x-man and the version of him who died, and then he switches back to being the wolverine.

and one part i find especially intriguing is the scene in logan's mindscape:

"cassandra and LOGAN stand in a gorgeous, ethereal place." "WOLVERINE falls to his knees."

i found it very curious that when he confesses what he did to laura, he's logan all the way through, but he's wolverine when talking to cassandra about the same thing, even though she did have an effect on him.

you could argue that he has his walls up because he's still wary of her, or that it's ironically even harder for him to talk about the past when he's in his own mind, or that he was aware of what was happening outside the whole time and part of him had been playing into it on purpose even through it all. i think all of them make sense in their own way.

there are a few more instances of this, but tldr i just think it's so so fucking cool that they play with his two different identities in the dialogue names to show when his walls are up. it's a fantastic visual representation of which side of him he shows at what time, and it's just great direction too for the actors reading the script.

he's wolverine throughout the entire honda odyssey fight scene and even in the hideout, or when he's reminded of who he thinks he's supposed to be and, consequently, of his failures. he's logan when he tells laura about what he did. when he's stripped down to his most vulnerable, or when he can forget about being the wolverine for a while, when drinking helps him forget--

or when he's back home with wade and has found peace within himself.

[1chaerry]

Tides of Possession

summary: shanks falls in love, a deadly obsession that twists and turns, capturing the one who stole his heart, even if it means forcing her into marriage.

c.w. : forced marriage, forced proximity, manipulative shanks, possessive and obsessive behaviour

w.c. : 5.2k

part 1(?)

Disclaimer: Reader is called Saram, meaning 'Human/Person'. Shanks has both arms.

Saram sat in the dimly lit room, the heavy oak desk before her casting a long shadow. The paper lying flat on its surface was as innocuous as it was damning. Certificate of Marriage, it read in elegant, flowing script. Each letter seemed to mock her resolve, and the delicate curves of the font were at odds with the suffocating weight in her chest.

Her hands rested on her knees, trembling as she stared down at the paper. A pen lay neatly to the side, as though taunting her.

Behind her, Shanks moved closer, the weight of his presence pressing into her back like a predator stalking its prey. The air between them crackled with something darker than words—power, control, possession.

“You know,” he murmured, his voice a velvet purr that brushed against her ear, “you don’t have to do this if you truly don’t want to.” His tone was soothing, almost kind, but the unspoken threat coiled beneath it like a viper. “No one’s forcing you, love.”

The words sent a chill down Saram’s spine. She knew better. If she didn’t sign the paper, there would be consequences. Lives would be lost, her crew would suffer, and the innocent people she had sworn to protect would bleed for her stubbornness.

Her throat tightened as she tried to find her voice. “I don’t understand why,” she finally whispered, the words trembling on her lips. “Why this? Why go this far?”

Shanks chuckled, a low sound that sent ripples through her. He placed his hands on the back of her chair, leaning down so that his lips brushed against the shell of her ear. “You already know the answer to that, Saram,” he said softly, his voice laced with possessiveness. “In exchange for sparing your precious friends, your crew, and your quaint little ideals, I want you. All of you.”

The words sent a shiver down her spine, and she hated the way her body reacted to the heat in his voice. She hated the way his mere proximity made her feel cornered, trapped, like a bird with its wings clipped.

“This just makes it more binding,” Shanks added, gesturing to the paper.

Saram’s eyes dropped back to the document. Her fingers twitched, hovering over the pen, but she couldn’t bring herself to pick it up. Her stomach churned.

“You know this isn’t legitimate,” she said, her voice weak. “It’s not legally binding without an officiator.”

Shanks let out a quiet laugh, the sound dark and rich. “Legality?” he mused. “You think I care about that?” His hand came to rest on her shoulder, his grip firm yet strangely gentle. “I can find a priest to threaten, or a Marine judge to coerce. But if you’re so worried about appearances, we could always have a proper ceremony.”

Her head snapped up, her cheeks flushing hot. “No!” The word came out sharper than she intended.

Shanks grinned, a lazy, predatory curve of his lips. “So shy,” he teased. “Don’t worry, love. We’ll skip the audience—for now.”

Her nails dug into her palms as she looked away, her heart racing. “You don’t have to do this,” she said, her voice shaking. “You could let me go. You could stop this madness.”

His grip on her shoulder tightened, and she felt him lean closer. “And why would I do that?” he murmured, his tone softer now, more dangerous. “When I finally have you right where I want you?”

She swallowed hard, her resolve crumbling. He wouldn’t stop. She knew that. He’d burn everything she cared about to the ground before he let her go. And yet, there was something in his voice, in his words, that sent a different kind of chill through her. He wasn’t lying when he said he wouldn’t hurt her. He’d destroy the world for her, but he’d never let anyone harm her—not even himself.

“I wouldn’t be unkind to you,” Shanks said suddenly, his voice dropping to a whisper. He brushed his lips against the side of her neck, barely a touch, but it left her skin burning. “You’d belong to me, yes, but I’d take care of you.”

She wanted to scream, to push him away, to fight back with everything she had. But she couldn’t. Her hands were tied, her choices stolen from her. And deep down, she hated the way his words made her hesitate. He’d never shown her cruelty—only relentless, consuming determination.

“You’d take care of me,” she echoed bitterly, her voice breaking. “Like a prisoner.”

“Like my queen,” Shanks corrected, his tone unwavering. “And you’d rule alongside me. No one would dare touch you.”

Her heart twisted painfully, the weight of his words crashing down on her. She couldn’t win this. She had to think of her crew, her people, everyone who was counting on her to make the right choice.

With a trembling hand, she reached for the pen. Her vision blurred as she stared at the paper again, the letters dancing before her eyes.

“So selfless,” Shanks said softly, guiding her hand with his own. His grip was steady, his warmth seeping into her skin. “So sacrificial. Always putting others before yourself. We’ll have to work on that once you’re mine.”

Her chest ached as the pen met the paper, the ink bleeding into the page like a wound. Each letter she wrote felt heavier than the last, sealing her fate with every stroke.

When she finished, Shanks took the paper from her and held it up, his smile dark and triumphant. “You’ve made the right choice, love,” he said, pressing a feather-light kiss to her temple. “And now, you’ll never have to make another one again.”

The first night in the shared room was suffocating.

Saram had always been independent, free to roam, to stay in her own space, with only the sea and her crew to keep her company. The quarters aboard Shanks' ship were a far cry from what she was used to. The walls felt too close, the air too thick. But what made her skin crawl the most was the figure lounging casually on the other side of the room, watching her every move.

Shanks. Of course, he had insisted she stay in his personal quarters. There were no alternatives, no protest to be heard. He made it clear, with that infernal smile of his, that this was non-negotiable. She belonged to him now, and the last thing she needed was privacy.

Saram sat on the edge of the bed, her back rigid, eyes fixed firmly on the floor. She felt exposed, vulnerable. She didn’t want to show weakness, didn’t want him to know how much she hated this. But everything about the room—the soft light of the lantern, the scent of the sea in the air, the rhythmic creaking of the ship—felt like a constant reminder of her predicament.

And Shanks, who lounged in a chair by the window, looking out at the horizon with a calm expression, was the final piece of the prison she now found herself in.

“You’re not sleeping?” he asked, his voice smooth, but with that dangerous undercurrent that she had come to dread. He didn’t even look at her as he spoke, but the way his words lingered in the air made her tense up.

Saram didn’t answer at first. She didn’t want to give him the satisfaction of acknowledging him. She shifted uncomfortably, her mind racing with a hundred different ways to get out of this.

“I know you’re awake,” he continued, his voice a little louder, more amused. “You’re not even trying to hide it. It’s cute.”

“Cut it out,” she finally muttered, her voice tight. Her eyes flicked toward him, just for a second, before she looked away again. His relaxed posture made her blood boil. How could he be so calm, so sure of himself?

“You know, Saram,” he began, his tone shifting to something far more intimate, “there’s no need to be so cold toward me. We’re in this together now.”

The words felt like a slap. She could almost feel the weight of them pressing down on her chest. Her teeth gritted together in frustration.

“I’m not in this with you, Shanks,” she snapped, turning her body toward him. “I never asked for this. I didn’t sign that damn paper out of choice.”

Shanks finally looked at her, and there was that predatory gleam in his eyes again. “Did you really think you had a choice?” he asked, his voice dropping to a low, dark tone. “You’ve already made your choice, Saram. You’re with me now, and there’s nothing you can do about it.”

Her heart raced, a mix of anger and fear stirring inside her. She knew he was right. She had signed, had agreed to his terms. But that didn’t mean she had to accept it. There was still a part of her that wanted to break free.

“I’ll never be with you,” she spat, standing up. She could feel the tension building, thick and palpable between them. “I’ll never be your pawn, your property.”

Shanks’ gaze never wavered, his eyes dark with amusement. “You’re not a pawn, love. You’re my equal… for now.” He leaned forward in his chair, the motion slow and deliberate. “But that can change, you know. I’m not asking for much. Just a little trust. A little patience.”

She shook her head, stepping away from the bed. She didn’t want to give him any more room to get under her skin. She didn’t want to show him how much his words affected her.

“You’re sick,” she muttered, her voice thick with disdain.

Shanks laughed then, and the sound was rich and deep, filled with dark amusement. “Sick? Maybe. But I’m not lying to you, Saram. You know as well as I do that the only reason you’re still fighting is because you hate that you’ve given in. You hate that I’ve beaten you at your own game.”

Her breath hitched, and she turned to face him. “I’m not defeated.”

His grin spread wider, his eyes glinting with something far more dangerous. “You will be. Eventually.” He stood from the chair, moving slowly toward her. “You’re mine now, Saram. And that means we’re going to work together, whether you like it or not.”

Saram stepped back, her back hitting the wall. She hated that he was so sure of himself. She hated the way his words crawled under her skin like poison, sinking deep into her mind, poisoning her thoughts.

“Don’t touch me,” she hissed.

But Shanks wasn’t deterred. He moved closer, his presence suffocating. His hand came to rest against the wall next to her head, trapping her in place.

“Don’t worry,” he murmured, his lips inches from her ear. “I’m not going to force you. Not yet. But I’ll have you eventually. You’ll see.”

Saram shuddered, every instinct screaming at her to fight, to escape, to break free from the hold he had over her. But she knew, deep down, that there was no way out. Not yet. Not until she found a way to turn the tables on him.

Saram’s heart hammered against her chest as Shanks moved closer, his eyes gleaming with that same, unsettling confidence that always made her skin crawl. Every step he took felt like a step toward inevitability.

“Come on,” he said, voice smooth and commanding, “it’s late. We both need sleep.” His tone was casual, as if it were the most normal thing in the world to force her into his bed with him.

“No,” she hissed, her voice shaking with anger. She wasn’t going to let him get away with this. Not again. “I’m not sleeping in your bed.”

Shanks' lips curled into a wicked smile, and he reached out, grabbing her by the wrist with surprising gentleness, his grip firm but not painful. “You’ll get used to it,” he murmured, his voice low, teasing. “Besides, you don’t really have a choice, do you?”

Before she could pull away, his other hand was at her waist, his fingers brushing against the curve of her hip as he guided her toward the bed. Saram's breath hitched, her body tense with the growing proximity, but she didn’t give him the satisfaction of begging him to stop.

“You’re a goddamn menace,” she spat, trying to twist out of his hold, but he only tightened his grip.

Shanks’ chuckle echoed in her ears, dark and low. “You really think you can fight me, Saram?” he asked, his fingers tracing along her side as he gently pushed her onto the bed. “I’m not asking you to fight, love. Just… surrender. For tonight.”

Saram felt her heart sink as he climbed in beside her, his movements slow and deliberate, as though savoring every second of her discomfort. She pulled the covers tightly around her, making sure to keep as much space between them as possible. But Shanks, of course, had other plans.

He shifted closer, the heat of his body radiating against hers. His hand settled over her waist, the pressure light but unyielding. “I don’t bite,” he murmured in her ear, though the possessiveness in his voice suggested otherwise. “Unless you make me.”

Saram’s skin prickled as his hand slid a little lower, brushing just below her ribcage. She tried to jerk away, but he was too quick, his fingers sliding further down her side.

“Stop it, Shanks,” she growled, her voice barely above a whisper, but the threat in her tone was unmistakable. “I’m not your plaything.”

Shanks only chuckled again, this time more menacingly. “No, you're not my plaything.” His hand moved again, this time caressing the small of her back before his fingers slipped dangerously low along her spine. “But you are mine. I’m just getting you used to the idea.”

Her entire body tensed, the fight within her burning hot and furious. She was fighting a losing battle. She couldn’t shake off the way his hands felt on her, even if it was nothing more than his touch pressing against the thin fabric of her clothes. The possessive glint in his eyes made her stomach churn. Every small touch, every movement, was a reminder that he wasn’t going to stop. He was just getting started.

Saram held her breath, trying to ignore the way his thumb brushed lazily along her waist, his hand resting heavy and possessive on her hip.

Shanks, sensing her tension, leaned in close, his breath warm against her ear. “You don’t have to fight this,” he whispered. “I’m not going to hurt you. I’ll take care of you, but you need to stop pushing me away.”

“You don’t have to take care of me,” she snapped, her voice shaky, and she tried to shove his hand off her hip. But he simply held it there, steady and unyielding.

He tilted his head, his lips grazing the edge of her ear as he chuckled darkly. “I’m not letting you go, Saram,” he said softly, his tone just barely above a whisper. “Not now. Not ever.”

She swallowed hard, feeling the weight of his words settle in the pit of her stomach like a stone. He wasn’t playing, and worse, he wasn’t backing down.

“You don’t control me,” she muttered, but it sounded less convincing than she would have liked. She could feel the heat of his body against hers, the warmth of his breath, and the pressure of his hand on her hip. Every time she tried to move away, he simply pulled her closer.

Shanks leaned back, still holding her tightly. “Maybe not yet,” he said softly, but his voice was filled with promise. “But you will, eventually. You’ll see.”

She couldn’t deny the shiver that ran down her spine at the finality of his words. There was something terrifying about the way he spoke, like he knew exactly what was coming—like he had already won.

For now, she didn’t know how to fight him anymore. She could feel the tension, the raw, oppressive weight of it all, pressing in on her. And when she finally closed her eyes to block him out, her body still tense under his touch, she couldn’t escape the truth.

She was trapped. Trapped in his bed. Trapped in his world.

The night stretched on, heavy and thick, like a fog that smothered her every thought. Saram lay there in silence, Shanks' hand still resting on her hip, the warmth of his touch seeping through the thin fabric of her clothes. No matter how much she tried to focus on the steady, rhythmic creak of the ship or the distant sound of waves crashing against the hull, his presence remained suffocating, inescapable.

She could feel his breath on her neck, soft but deliberate, as if he was savoring the fact that she was there—with him, no longer a defiant stranger, but something far more personal.

Saram gritted her teeth, struggling to keep her emotions in check. She refused to give him the satisfaction of knowing how much his proximity affected her. He was testing her, pushing her to the brink, and she was determined not to let him see that he was winning.

But Shanks wasn’t the type to let things go. His grip tightened on her waist, and he tugged her closer, pulling her back until her back was pressed against his chest. The sudden pressure startled her, but before she could move, his arm was wrapped firmly around her waist, keeping her there.

“You don’t have to resist,” he murmured, his lips brushing against the back of her neck. The touch was almost gentle, a stark contrast to the intensity of his words. “I’m not going to hurt you, Saram. You don’t have to keep fighting me.”

Saram’s fists clenched, nails digging into her palms. She hated how his words sounded so sincere, like he was doing her a favor, like he was the only one who understood what was best for her. But beneath it all, she knew the truth. He wasn’t saving her. He was breaking her down, piece by piece, until she had nothing left to hold onto.

“You’re not my savior, Shanks,” she spat, her voice strained with a mixture of anger and frustration. “You’re just a tyrant in disguise.”

Shanks chuckled softly, the sound vibrating against her skin, and for a moment, his grip on her loosened just enough for her to consider escape. But then his fingers brushed the back of her neck, slow and deliberate, sending a jolt of heat racing through her body.

“Maybe,” he mused, his voice low and dangerous. “But you’re here with me, aren’t you? Willingly.” He paused for a beat, letting the words hang in the air between them. “You might not admit it, but I can feel it, Saram. You’re not as opposed to me as you pretend to be.”

She felt her breath catch in her throat, her pulse quickening. It was like he could see straight through her defenses, straight into the heart of her deepest fears and desires. She hated how much he understood her, how easily he read her every move. It made her feel exposed, vulnerable, and she could already feel the walls she had carefully built around herself begin to crumble.

“No,” she whispered, her voice barely audible, but filled with a cold edge. “I’m not here because I want to be. I’m here because I have no choice. You’ve made sure of that.”

Shanks was quiet for a moment, and Saram could almost feel the amusement radiating off him. Then, his hand moved again, this time sliding slowly down her side, his fingers trailing a path along her ribs before resting on her hip once more.

“I’ve made sure of nothing,” he replied, his voice hushed but firm. “You’re here because you need to be, Saram. You’re here because you understand what will happen if you try to leave.”

Her breath hitched again, and she could feel the anger rising in her chest. The helplessness that clawed at her throat was suffocating, and she struggled to keep it under control.

“I will leave,” she said, her words cold and steady despite the chaos inside her. “One day, I’ll get out of this. You can’t hold me forever.”

Shanks’ laughter rang out, soft but undeniably mocking. He shifted closer still, pressing his chest against her back, his breath warm against her ear as he spoke.

“You are my prisoner, Saram, my wife,” he whispered. “I’m not worried about you leaving. I’m worried about when you’ll stop pretending that you don’t want to be here. When you’ll stop fighting and realize that everything you need is right here, in my arms.”

Saram stiffened, her teeth gritted as she struggled to ignore the way his words slipped under her skin like poison. He was playing a dangerous game, making her question her own resolve. But she refused to let him break her. She couldn’t let him win.

“I’m not some damsel in distress, Shanks,” she growled, her voice sharp. “I’m not your toy to control.”

Shanks sighed, his breath hot against her neck. “You keep saying that,” he murmured, almost in mock sympathy. “But deep down, you know you’re wrong.” He paused, and she could feel the smile tug at his lips. “You’ll see. Eventually. You’ll see what happens when you stop fighting me.”

Saram’s mind raced, her heart pounding in her chest as she tried to figure out how to escape this. But for now, all she could do was lay there in his arms, utterly trapped, knowing that the night was far from over.

She hated him, and yet, she couldn’t escape him. And the worst part? A small part of her, the part she hated the most, wanted to stay.

He still remembered the day he first met her.

The salty breeze of the open sea carried a sense of freedom, a lightness in the air that always made Shanks feel like he could conquer anything. The Red-Haired Pirates had docked on a small, quiet island—a place filled with quiet townsfolk and hidden beauty, far from the chaos of the Grand Line's larger ports. It was the perfect place to rest, re-supply, and spend a few days enjoying the simplicity of life.

That was the day he first saw her.

It wasn’t like anything he had ever imagined. He had no grand expectations, no knowledge of who she was or what she might become to him. She was just another face in the crowd. At least, that’s what he told himself, the ever-determined pirate captain whose heart had long since been tempered by a thousand battles.

He had been strolling along the quiet dock, a tankard of ale in his hand and a carefree grin plastered across his face, when the sight of a flash of silver hair caught his attention. It was nothing unusual at first—there were always people walking along the docks—but there was something about the way she moved. It wasn’t just the grace in her steps or the way her eyes scanned the sea like she had secrets to share with the horizon. It was the intensity in her gaze, the quiet strength that seemed to radiate from her very being.

She was standing by the railing, her arms crossed over her chest, and she seemed... untouchable. As if the world around her didn’t quite matter. She was looking out to sea, but in the brief moment their eyes locked, Shanks felt something shift inside him. Something that made him stop dead in his tracks.

It wasn’t the usual flirtation or fascination he was used to feeling when meeting someone new. No, this was different. It was softer, almost... like a pull from somewhere deep inside him, a quiet voice whispering that this moment meant more than it appeared.

Her eyes, stormy and full of quiet defiance, held his for a moment longer than was usual, and then, with a slight tilt of her head, she broke the gaze and turned back toward the horizon.

He wasn’t sure what it was, but something in that moment felt like the world had tilted slightly. The sound of the waves seemed a little quieter, the chatter of his crew just a little more distant. In the middle of that bustling port town, with so much life happening around him, she was the only thing that mattered. She was the only thing that existed.

He found himself drawn to her, stepping closer, as if some invisible force was guiding him. He didn’t even have to think twice about it. She was standing alone, so confidently and yet so detached from the world, and he... couldn’t resist. There was no hesitation in his step as he approached her.

“Beautiful day, isn’t it?” he called out, his voice light and friendly, his usual grin wide. He was still unsure of what exactly compelled him to speak, but he couldn’t stop himself.

Saram didn’t turn to him immediately, her eyes still fixed on the vast ocean in front of them, as though trying to understand it. But after a moment, she gave a slight nod. “It’s peaceful,” she replied in a tone that suggested she wasn’t quite addressing him, but rather the world itself.

For a brief moment, Shanks thought she wouldn’t say anything else, that she might simply dismiss him, as most people did. But then she finally turned her head toward him, her eyes locking onto his, and the world around them seemed to disappear.

Her gaze was piercing, unyielding, and yet, there was a softness to it—a vulnerability tucked beneath that hard exterior. Her silver hair fluttered slightly in the wind, and for a moment, she looked almost ethereal, as if she didn’t belong to the world at all.

“I’m Shanks,” he introduced himself, his usual confidence returning, though this time, his voice was a bit gentler than usual.

“I know,” she replied, her eyes never leaving his. Her lips curved into the smallest of smiles, a rare thing. “I’ve heard about you.”

Shanks was taken aback for a second, and he laughed softly, the sound almost like an echo in the silence between them. “I hope it’s all good things,” he said, a little self-deprecating, though he wasn’t sure why.

Her smile grew just the slightest bit. “You’re a pirate. I’m sure some people like you. Some don’t.”

He chuckled again, the tension between them suddenly lifting, and for a moment, they stood there together, side by side, each lost in the same view. The sun was low on the horizon now, casting golden light across the water, and everything felt still and right.

But there was something else he noticed, something that surprised him even more than the connection he felt with her. She hadn’t been scared or defensive with him. She hadn’t turned away or looked down in an attempt to distance herself from him, like so many others had done in his past. No, she had stood her ground, and in her quiet presence, he found something that spoke to him in a way nothing else ever had.

Saram wasn’t like anyone he had ever met. She wasn’t impressed by his fame, nor did she fawn over him like many others did. She simply was. And for Shanks, that was the most intoxicating thing of all.

As the wind swept through their hair, and the sun dipped beneath the horizon, he knew, without a shadow of a doubt, that this was the beginning of something he couldn’t fully understand, but that he couldn’t let slip away.

The pirate captain who had always lived for the thrill of adventure, for the joy of sailing the seas, now found himself wondering if the greatest adventure of all might be standing right in front of him.

And somehow, in a way he never expected, he had already fallen.

The soft creak of the ship’s wooden planks was the only sound that broke the stillness of the night. Shanks lay on his back, staring at the ceiling of the dimly lit room, the weight of everything pressing down on him in a way he wasn’t used to. The steady rise and fall of Saram’s chest next to him was a reminder that things were far from simple, and his heart felt heavy, a knot tightening deep inside his chest.

He turned his head to the side, his gaze falling on her. She had fallen asleep in his arms, exhausted by the endless battles, both physical and emotional, that had been waged between them. Her body was still, but her face—her face was anything but peaceful.

Even in sleep, she looked restless, as though she couldn’t find a moment of true peace. Her brow was furrowed, and the softest of frowns tugged at her lips. But it was the tears that caught his attention—tears that had slipped from her closed eyes and stained the pillow beneath her.

Shanks felt something stir inside him, something that felt dangerous and unfamiliar. He didn’t like seeing her like this—vulnerable, exposed, broken in a way he hadn’t thought possible. It gnawed at him, that sense of helplessness, the knowledge that he was the one who had caused this.

His hand hovered over her face for a moment before he moved with slow, deliberate care. His fingers brushed the damp trail of a tear from her cheek, feeling the warmth of it on his skin. His heart squeezed, a twinge of guilt lancing through him. It was hard to reconcile the woman who fought him tooth and nail with the one who now lay beside him, her emotions raw and unguarded in her sleep.

He wasn’t used to this. He wasn’t used to feeling this… soft. To wanting to protect someone who constantly pushed him away.

But that feeling was there, undeniable. And as he wiped the last of the tears away, he realized that he didn’t want to see her like this anymore. He didn’t want her to cry, didn’t want to be the cause of her pain. For all the walls she’d built around herself, for all the stubbornness and defiance, there was still something fragile beneath it all.

Something that he, ironically, was starting to care about.

Saram shifted slightly in her sleep, her body instinctively curling toward him as if she knew he was there, offering warmth and protection without even realizing it. Shanks didn’t fight the urge to pull her closer. He wrapped his arm around her, bringing her against his chest, and for a moment, he allowed himself to enjoy the softness of the moment.

Her head rested lightly on his shoulder, her breath soft and steady now, as if she had finally found some semblance of rest. He could feel the warmth of her body, the slight tremors that still lingered from her earlier distress, and it made his chest tighten with an unfamiliar ache.

He stared down at her, his heart a strange mixture of tenderness and something darker. He knew the road ahead wasn’t going to be easy—not by any stretch of the imagination. She would fight him every step of the way, and he had no illusions about that.

But in this quiet moment, with her in his arms, the world seemed a little less complicated. He wasn’t the pirate captain feared by all, and she wasn’t the woman who despised him. They were just two people, sharing a fleeting moment of peace amidst the chaos they both carried inside them.

Shanks kissed the top of her head softly, his lips brushing her hair, and for the first time in what felt like forever, he let himself simply breathe. The weight of the world was still there, hanging over them both, but for now, he would allow himself to feel this—this fragile, complicated connection between them.

And perhaps, in the morning, everything would return to the chaos of their rivalry. But for now, he would hold her close, as though she belonged to him, as though she was finally where she was meant to be.

In his arms.

[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.

[lilithofthevalley97]

Dreaming and im thinking of you.

summary: Michael wakes up from a pleasant dream and just has to do something about it.

Warning: male masturbation, inappropriate thoughts, Michael Gavey being horny

a/n: just a short little blurb that i hope you enjoy, comments are much appreciated, please let me know your thoughts AND let me know if there’s anything else you would like for me to write, i’m thinking of making this a series.

it is late at night, he had just woken up from a pleasant dream, a dream of him in between the legs of the woman he adores, thrusting in and out of her, her moans a delicious sound to his ears, he touches her skin, soft and pliable to his touch.

He moans her name as she opens her eyes to look at him, the sensation from his cock being trapped in her heat, the soft touch of his skin against her own, being pressed chest to chest, having her underneath him and the way her lips part to say his name, it’s all too much for him, he’s about to release himself inside of her, but before he can, he wakes up.

He looks at his side to find it empty, he knew it would be but in his sex hazy mind it didn’t register, he’s aching for a release, he finds himself being constricted from the waist down, with a sigh he lowers his underwear just enough to let himself free, he spits in his hand and slowly starts stroking himself, he tries to remember the dream, how soft she felt, his hands caressing, groping, worshipping her body, but it’s all fading too fast, so he goes for the next best thing. His memories.

He remembers her laugh and the times he had been responsible for it, her scent, how their hand would brush up against one another and how he wished to never wash it afterwards. Her hair. He bets it’s soft just like the rest of her, and he wishes there was an excuse he could use to pass his fingers through them. And from the brief moments they’ve hugged he could smell the lavender shampoo she used, he even bought a lavender spray to mist it on his pillows before he went to sleep with the pretence that it would help him sleep better but in reality he just wanted to pretend it was her hair he was smelling before he closed his eyes to dream of her.

He often did. But his dreams were rarely as lewd as this one, he brings his face closer to the pillows, his hips bucking against his hand, a broken, whiny moan left his lips, he thinks about her face, her big brown eyes and how pretty they would look looking up at him while she was on her knees, then about her lips, so full and rosy, he would die for a kiss from her. He has felt her lips on his cheek before but he wishes for more, he wants them on his, to savour them, he wouldn’t know the first thing about kissing someone but he was eager to find out if it was from her.

He then goes to think about her body, her tits and how they would look like bare, so soft, full and round, how heavy they would feel on his hands, he wants to bite them, kiss them, lick them, suck on them, he daydreams about them when he sees her in a low cut top or dress and how they move to her every breath, if he could just nuzzle himself there or lay his heavy head filled with thoughts of her on them to then fall asleep. God he’s getting closer, his chest heaves, his member throbbing, hot and angry red leaking tip, he just knows she would take such good care of him seeing him in this state, sweaty, thrashing his legs around, arching his back with the only sound leaving his mouth being her name.

He continues with his fantasies, he thinks of her stomach and how he would plant kisses there to then reach one of his favourite places. In between her legs. In reality he wouldn’t have a clue what to do if he actually had her on his bed spread out in front of him but he had watched enough porn to get an idea. He would take his time admiring her, glistening, hot to the touch and pulsing, but he wouldn’t go straight in, he would kiss her thighs, biting and sucking, and then he would lick a stripe from her entrance to her clit, the minute her essence makes contact with his eager tongue he would moan, that much he knows, her sweetness like no other. Michael had fantasised about it a million times. And knew that what he lacked in experience he would compensate in enthusiasm, and still despite not being with a woman before he also knew that no other could compare to her.

She wasn’t even his, but she had him, body, mind and soul, he would do anything she ever asked, he was in a spell he was sure not even she was aware.

He starts stroking faster at the thought of him eating her out, he wanted to drown himself on her, he’s pathetic really, he’s certain that if he could touch her like he wanted he would cum untouched and what an embarrassment it would be to cum in his pants like a horny teenager in front of the woman he loves the most, he wouldn’t even last five minutes inside her, her walls too wet, tight and warm for a man that has only had his hand.

He’s close, so close his thrust become erratic, practically humping his hand, he comes with her name on his lips, his seed spilling all over his thighs, hand and stomach, how he wished she was there to help him clean off.

But alas his dream would have to do.

[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

[lucygraysboy]

“you don’t have to apologize for askin’ questions or havin’ little trust in me, i understand it all. i don’t mind answerin’ your questions and i know that trust comes with time, it’s fine. we’re alright,” the blue-eyed man assures, smiling softly despite the ache in his jaw. god, she got him real good. that rusty, metallic taste of blood still lingers on his tongue. “yeah, guess so. but my brother? how’d you convince him to live that life with you?” there are pieces of the story missing and billy’s just trying to fill in the gaps, put the timeline together. “sorry, i just can’t picture him livin’ anywhere but at the capitol.” if he’s anything like their father, and from what she’s told him, that’s exactly who he aspires to be, he must have hated it in twelve. “he did,” billy insists, his gaze unwavering, piercing hues studying her expression. “why? i mean… you’ve got your whole life ahead of you, lucy gray. you can’t just abandon all hope and starve or freeze to death out here.” why does he care what happens to her? she’s not his responsibility, not his child or his wife, not even his friend, and yet her words have his heart sinking. she can’t waste her life away out here. she deserves much better. 

“hm? what’s that? oh.” she’s singing a song, he realizes and falls silent. hypnotized by the melody alone, listening to lucy gray’s sweet voice, billy almost forgets about the task at hand. the lyrics are heart-rending, filled with emotion. she sounds like someone who’s at peace with whatever future holds for her, willing to just give up on everything and die, or so it seems to billy. pale blue eyes filling with tears, but he’s quick to blink them away, even if his chest continues to constrict and tighten, making it difficult to breathe. he won’t let her do that. he won’t let her sit here and wait for her time to come. “beautiful song,” he whispers, lowering his gaze, afraid if he keeps on looking at her, he will break down and cry. “and i’m sorry to hear that.” are all her friends gone? is she really all alone in the world?  

the desolate scream that escapes her has the whole cabin shaking, windows rattling, and billy finds himself muttering apologies under his breath. “you’re doin’ so good, we’re almost done, lucy gray, almost done” he promises, wishing he could just wrap his arms around her and comfort her. instead, he briefly rests his other hand on her good knee, caressing it, saying i know we’re not friends but i’m here for you. though, maybe, hopefully this is cathartic in some way, maybe she needs to let it all go, wail and scream… it’s plain to see the physical pain is nowhere near the worst thing that’s happened to her, and he just feels for her. “you’re so strong. one of the strongest people i’ve met.” he works quickly but thoroughly, cleaning the wound, lathering it in iodine and using a few clean cloths to create a makeshift bandage, wrapping the fabric around her leg and tying it so that it stays in place. “there you go, lucy gray. all done. we’ll change it in the morning, see how it’s doing.” if it’s getting worse. he gathers the dirty rags, as well as the bowl with now cold water and sets them aside, near the door. he’ll wash them clean in the morning, hang them to dry if the weather clears. he wants to help her, but doesn’t know how, and so he just stands beside her, calloused fingers carefully stroking her hair, wary as though he was dealing with a wild animal. “just let it go… things will get better, lucy gray. they always do.”

“thanks…” that would come out more enthusiastically if he wasn’t coriolanus. but the fact he was, just means— it’s all contrived. “sorry, i guess i’m just not used to it.” not from him. when does he notice that things like her childhood toys mean a lot to her? “it’s all i’ve known to do so i reckon i have no choice but to say i like it.” the twang on her voice drawls, a wry laugh sounding from her. “he did. you did.” more than turned… revealed he was a killer the entire time and was just waiting the right moment to put a bullet in her chest. “stayin’ right here, i guess. since i can’t return to twelve, not now. and really darlin’… i don’t really have much care what happens anymore.” thinks she might just go curl up in that bed, close her eyes and sing herself to a peaceful death. you’re headed for heaven, the sweet old here after. and i’ve got one foot in the door, but before i can fly up, i’ve got loose ends to tie up. right here in the old therebefore. humming her song now. “when i’ve burned out both ends. when i’ve cried all my tears,” she quietly sing-talks her way through to try and distract herself from the leg pain, “when i’ve conquered my fears. right here, in the old therebefore. when nothin’ is left anymore.” the last part striking a nerve, exactly describing why she’s even singing her saddest song. she’s burned out both ends, cried all her tears, conquered her fears and nothing is now truly left…anymore. “his story’s ended. gone to heaven, if the lord allowed it.” hopefully he repented somehow, but she doubts he even saw his life ending so abruptly.

it’s fine, she thinks, she doesn’t need his shoulders for support. until she does. it jolts through her at once, pain shooting up her thigh, toes digging into the wood and her socks, a wince and her hand tightening against his shirt, other hand clutching the bottom of her seat. biting her bottom lip, trying to be usually tough, but the feeling and the look of her flesh makes her nauseous so quickly— stomach muscles caving in at how terribly pain shoots through her again. bottom lip that’s been wobbling, teeth let go when a cry rips through her throat. shifting in her seat to bury her face in the back of the chair, tears exploding out of her eyes as face is hidden, matted curls curtaining around her jaw. she’s fought the pain so long, it just keeps barreling out in heavy exasperated cries. leg pain, mental and emotional pain, exhaustion pain. it’s all collectively releasing at once. upset she’s been beaten down so much, gotten up every single time, but at her wits end— she’s gave her all and she’s completely shutting down this time. lucy gray can’t be that girl who gets up anymore, it’s why her weeping is so relentless and loud. the leg pain just added to the fuel now.

[valentine-cafe]

May I have a mango pudding, a strawberry shortcake and a tiramisu please?!?

[Afab gn reader]

May I request how they would act with their pregnant lover reader please?!?:D

-🍄

˖⁺. “ bundle of joy ” : 

﹙ hero duo x fem reader x antihero bf ﹚.𖹭 ݁

. . . verse 781 alessio, rishen & talisen x fem reader !! 🍓 : ﹙  rishen: hero ˖ moth-spider-mantis hybrid ˖ preppy nerd character ˖ talisen: poet ˖ grim reaper ˖ naga character ˖ alessio: punkgoth ˖ mercenary ˖ immortal ˖ antihero character ﹚

headcanons of when you fall pregnant with the 781 trio <3

﹙ cws ﹚: none ! | wc : 0.7k 

﹙ receipts ﹚: the trio being domestic like this is sooooo

꒰  other treats : guidelines ˖ m.list ˖ characters ˖ our lore  ꒱

their first reaction would be absolute shock. pure shock

at the sudden news, talisen’s teacup fell to the floor. shattering in millions of pieces, while rishen’s eyes widened, and she was quick to sit down. hand on her chest, while taking in deep, deep breaths. confusion unmatched of that alessio was currently going through. his brain not following his processing.

after their moment of surprise, and you calling for them a few times, looking around with a frown and furrowed eyebrows. was that not okay? had you said it wrong?

“who’s is it? whi- well— no, you probably wouldn’t know.” alessio would mutter to himself, while talisen waved his hands at you reassuringly.

”baobei please do not worry, we are not mad. we never would be.” the overwhelm was still prominent in you. fortunately though, his words eased you just a bit. your arms slumping in his hands, as he gently wraps around them to pull you in for a hug.

rishen would sit and ponder still, though. which of them had made you pregnant? was it them? talisen was included from the mix completely. his reaper genes are incompatible with that of a human’s. it would either be her or alessio. he could run a test, perhaps?

they would be so happy though. over the moon and sun infact! oh, alessio, who had always wanted to have a family of his own. though being a nervous wreck about it too, would go and buy baby clothes, pacifiers and lots and lots of diapers, so that they were ready for when the baby arrived!

“i bought small picture and memory books too— so when the baby—”

talisen would start counting down the days for the birth. while he always wondered what he would be like as a father. he was still mildly intimidated by the thought in all honesty, it took reassurance from you in great amounts to make him believe he would be an amazing father. in all sorts of aspects. he could teach the bebé so much!

“i can not wait to read bedtime stories for the baby. such a simple thing, but truly, i really can not wait.”

rishen would be running the ultrasounds and checkups on you, he did not want anyone else checking on you. that was in his field and she knew what she was doing! everytime she saw the baby’s little shifts and feetsies kicking around during the scans, they couldn’t help but laugh out loud. smiling brightly at the image. he loves to feel for the baby, listen for hiccups too!

“oop— another hiccup! got too much food in there? hehe”

they will all treat you as they always has: like royalty. spoilt and made sure you feel good.

however, they are all very aware of pregnancy hormones, and are also careful around you. making sure that you are not overwhelmed, overstimulated or that you feel bad or discomforted in any way or form!

they bring you the food you like, nevermind the odd combinations it may be. and sit and eat with you as much as they can even if they’re busy.

all of them love to sit down on their knees and murmur or coo at your tummy for the baby to hear them. get accostumed to their voice.

and another thing they adore is watching you talk to the baby too, when you think you’re alone. happily mumbling to it, assuring it that it will grow up to be a kind and amazing individual. and do good in this world, they will grow up with loving parents.

alessio always comes around to help lift up your tummy to give your spine and back a break once the baby begins growing bigger. supporting it gently while you walk around as well.

rishen is the one who ushers you to the couch or bed to make you rest, telling you to lay back on chores and everything else. they all have that covered!! just eat and rest! don’t stress yourself or the baby!

talisen is the one who always makes sure that you are doing okay mentally as well, asking you how you feel about the baby, how you feel about everything. if there’s stuff you need to talk about. he wants to make sure you are in a good mindset during the entire pregnancy. if anyone hurts your feelings or wears you down, they’re gonna have to deal with him!

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[gallaghersgal]

Hii !! I saw that you came back im so happy ! I have a little request !

What do you think about Lip x fem!reader that love pampering him, especially after he says mean things about himself. Maybe they are in bed together and he say mean things about himself and reader can’t handle it, it breaks her heart to hear her bf talk about himself like that :( so she take his hands and pull him in front of the mirror of the bathroom and she says things like « look at your eyes, they are the same color of the ocean » and « look at your beautiful nose » while kissing each part of his body 🥹 it would be so cute !! I’m feeling angsty today

hi!! i took this a slightly different route, but thanks sm for the req!! so so cute, i love him so bad :(( rated mature for emotional angst & alcoholism mentions

it was the day after a relapse in lip's sobriety. the journey was never easy, you knew that from the beginning. but days like this one were hard regardless. you made it through most of the day, but now he sits next to you, trying to focus on his twelve-step book. you know he's engraining the methods and techniques he's learned back into his brain.

"baby?" you ask softly, and he turns to face you. "put the book down, let's go to bed?"

he shakes his head, "no, no. 'm a fuckin' idiot for falling back in. i-i have you, and a healthy baby girl, i can't be doin' this shit. not to her. and not to you."

his eyes turn back to the book, and you frown. you know his self-deprecating words come from a place of fear, he doesn't want to continue in his own father's ways. he wants to be better.

"lip, look at me." you reach out, taking the book and placing the old receipt he uses as a bookmark between the pages. you lift your hand to his chin and tilt his face towards your own.

"you are a good man. we all make mistakes," you tell him softly. "but you love our daughter and you love me."

"y'could be better off," he mumbles, "i know it."

there it is, the root of his fears. you know the courage it took for him to return to you, deep in his shame after spending the night at a bar ignoring your calls. he'd cried when he walked through the door, falling to his knees in his drunken state and wrapping his arms around your thighs.

you could've screamed at him for being so foolish, could have lashed out for his avoidance, but you just knelt on the floor at his side. his blue eyes were bloodshot when he looked at you, wide and worrisome. a firm kiss to his head smothered any fear in his mind, if only for a moment.

and now, tonight, you tell him, "you are one of the smartest people i know. you act all tough, but you have a big heart. you protect what you love. phillip gallagher you are all i need."

he cracks a smile at your use of his full name, strong arms circling your shoulders to pull you into his chest. "thank y'u baby, needed t'hear that."

[madamechrissy]

Preview for ♔ Silent Serenades- An arranged Marriage with Duke Gojo ♔- Part Twelve

EXPLICIT- MDNI-Don't read if you haven't read Part Eleven - Will be out tomorrow!!

 “I still hate him for touching you, for having you first. I only did not kill him because I love you so fucking much. I know you care for him.”

“I do care. He is not a bad person, Satoru, he’s a good person.”

“Perhaps he is, but do you know what I realized?” Satoru’s thumb traces your lip now, swollen from biting it so much.

“What is that?”

“He’s not in your heart.”

“No, he is not. It’s got a rather slutty and whorish Duke overtaking it.” Satoru raises a brow at that, your fingers are caressing delicately where he is bruised, over his perfect muscles, flexing as he sucks in a breath.

“Perhaps you should make it up, your former lover punching my pretty face.” You snort then. “You think I’m jesting, bratty girl?”

“Indeed, you are. You deserved a hit for being terrible.” Satoru reaches down now, unbuttoning his trousers, his hard, thick length slapping his belly button, and you feel heat pooling between your thighs.

“Open your mean little mouth.” He orders softly, you shift on your knees as he sits up, obediently opening your mouth, for him to grab your hair, shoving his cock inside of it. “Oh fuck… your mouth is so…”

“Mmm…” You’re moaning as he is, sucking on his cock and looking right into his eyes, the most heady thing, his huge hands enwrapping in your locks as you suck him greedily, feeling him hitting the back of your throat.

“Take all of it, Princess.” He whispers now, and you pull back with a pop, saliva dripping in strings from his pretty tip.

“All of it!?”

“Relax that throat, you can do it.” You struggle to breathe through your nose now, taking more and more of him with every sloppy stroke, now he’s fucking your face and throat, and you can’t stand how good it feels. He hisses then as you sink all the way down, throat bulging with him, his hand touches it now. “That’s it, slutty throat, she can take me.”

You press even deeper, feeling him stretch and burn your throat now, nose flush against the thin white patch of his hair, he’s whimpering now, your eyes are watering, but you continue, sucking him, over and over, cunt dripping wet as your hands brace on his thighs for stability. You feel him thickening now, as he bucks up into your throat, rougher and rougher.

“Th-that’s it… Princess you… s’good, f-fuck…” He's falling apart, using your throat to bring himself closer and closer. “Bet he didn’t use you like this, bet he was all sweet, hmm?”

You glare and he’s lost it, cupping your face and moving more and more, mumbling incoherently.

“I’ll use your bratty fucking mouth, so you can’t talk, what do you think?” He slaps your cheek gently, you’re moaning more against him now, urging him on. “Fuck every memory out of your pretty head.”

You want to tell him, they’re already long gone, that all there is now is him, even when he’s speaking like this, it just makes you want him more, the duality of him, so dirty but sweet. Fucking you so brutally one moment to worship your entire body the next, calling you a beautiful Princess then a slutty brat. You want it all, you want every bit of the Duke.

“Going to drink up all my seed, aren’t you? Greedy little whore.” He mutters now, fucking your throat harder, you gasp for breath as he pummels it, reaching down to touch yourself, you’re so wet and needy. “No.”

Satoru yanks your fingers up like he did last time, leaving you to whine out, as he sucks on them greedily, continuing to pump your mouth.

“She is mine, only I touch her, unless I tell you to.” Satoru moans louder now, hips stuttering. “You’re so wet already I bet. Think I should touch you?”

You shake your head, sucking harder, saliva and precum dripping down his veiny cock, and his eyes are dilated, so dark, eyes lidded as he watches you suck him, throat hurting so bad tears are pouring. But you’re wetter now, grinding against nothing, wanting him so badly you can’t think, like he is fucking your brain, like he has been since you first kissed him truly.

“If you take all this cum and swallow I’ll touch you, greedy little Princess. Can you do it?” You simply suck harder, glaring, and he smirks.

Almost here <3

[venuswarmlight]

I was hoping to request a jealous Mizu x reader, like maybe she sees reader joking around with Tenzin and she gets really jealous. Idk maybe something along those lines ig. Tbh you can do whatever really, I just want some jealous Mizu x reader stuff. Sorry if this sounds too vague😓, Anyway thank you 🩷🖤

I hope I didn’t read this too late! A lot of things happened but what matters now is that I can keep writing. Hope you enjoyed it, i did it femreader bc I assumed you wanted it that way(I ALSO DIDNT FIND A GIF FOR THIS IM SO SORRY itS BEEN MONTHS I DONT USE TUMBLR)

Warnings: nsfw at the end. Not very proofread. Taigen acting like a man in the 1600’s. BAD ENGLISH.

Notes: Reader is an archer. Idk I’ll be adding more

Jealous!Mizu x Fem!Reader.

Having a mercenary girlfriend was the best thing that happened to you, from the first time you two met until now your only work was following her like a puppy through the villages and kicking asses to the ground like the badass you were, and of course the cozy nights were you both trained your fighting skills next to a lake just to end it by making out until her hands were already in your chest, desperate for blowing off some steam. Your life next to Mizu was great, yeah, but thanks to an unfortunate serious of events you weren’t the only ones in a campfire nearby that forest lake. At least for now.

“I’ll see if there’s another rabbit out there.” Mizu got up from the snowy ground, and looked at you. “Scream if Taigen gets too nosy.” She said as she dead-stared at the man sitting next to you.

“I’ll be fine, but thank you.” You smiled at her and went back to polishing your arrows, while Taigen was doing literally anything but looking at you with curiosity.

After a few minutes you finally broke the ice between you and him, your voice as soft as a feather while you spoke “You’re staring, you know that?”

He immediately realized and turned his head to the campfire smoke, loosing himself in the front view. “I’m sorry, I’m just.. Surprised.” He answered later, hesitant.

“Of what?” Your eyebrows furrowed, and you lifted your gaze to look at him, concerned.

“Well, women like you are not usually seen in these conditions.. Much less with a man like him.” His words intrigued you, what did he meant by this? You inhaled deeply as you kept doing your work, finally storing the arrows in their respective case.

“I find myself very comfortable where I am right now, I don’t know what you m-”You were interrupted by Taigen, he turned himself getting in front of you.

“You’re too pretty to be an archer instead of living in an estate with a rich man.”

Oh. So this is what he meant. Your eyes widened and you started laughing, covering your mouth of embarrassment, honestly it was uncomfortable and out of place but you decided to take it as a compliment AND as a dare. Purposely changed the subject to avoid personal questions and scolded him, pushing him playfully. “Hey! My appearance has nothing to do with my abilities.”

Taigen chuckled, not pushing you back but being more confident with his approaching attitude. “I’m just saying the truth, you should-”

“Oh, yeah, that’s enough!” You jumped onto him, making him fall into the snow and taking him by surprise, his head bounced a bit on the ground, disoriented.

“What is wrong with you!?”

“Can’t fight a woman back? You must be shitting your pants right now, what a shame.” You spilled, sarcastically, but that dominance fell when he grabbed your hands placed in his chest and used it as a support to push you to the right, shifting positions, now his body was topping you, his hands immobilizing yours by pressing hard on your upper torso.

“Not bad.. But still not as good as me.” He proudly said, suddenly you kicked his butt with your knee from the back, making him loose his strength in your wrists, you repeated his last movement, ending again in how you started that silly fight, your giggles and laughters filled the forest’s natural sounds, and suddenly you totally forgot that Mizu could come back anytime and find you two in this compromising position.

You and Taigen struggled there for a few minutes, what he thought that would be a stupid kid’s fight turned into a challenge, even if it didn’t look like it, he started recognizing how.. Incredible you were, your smooth but hard blows, the little screams you made when you felt like you were gonna loose, now he understood.

How lucky Mizu was for having a girl like you.

You finished the fight by enlazing your fingers with an iron grip around his neck, and your other hand threatening his face with your fist, but you forgot that Taigen’s hands were still free. He grabbed your waist and managed to make you fall on your back as he stood up from the ground and made you loose your grip on his neck, his legs immobilizing yours and his hands putting your wrists above your head, his uncontrolled breathing crashing against your nose as he laughed. “Defeated.”

Before you could answer, you saw a third person kick Taigen’s body from the side, just in the ribs, making him fall to the ground, almost burning his whole body next to the campfire, you sat up quick and looked at him first, then looked up at your side, a tall figure with a dead bunny grabbed by the ears in front of you, those blue unsettling eyes staring at you with the coldest countenance. You knew right there and then she was mad as hell.

“Training without me?” Mizu got on her knees to the campfire to roast the rabbit, not caring about Taigen’s prolly broken rib (not really). You stood up to clean your clothes and sit next to her, nervous. You weren’t doing anything wrong, but still.

“We were just playing.” You excused yourself, trying to make her look at you, but no. She was ignoring you.

Instead of answering, her gaze turned out to Taigen, who was struggling to recover from that fucking kick that hurt as hell. “You’re getting too comfortable here, aren’t you?” Her tone was noticeably passive-aggressive, her grip on the roasting stick was tightening.

“That wasn’t fucking necessary! Fuck, it hurts..” He yelled, finally sitting a bit far from you two, you could feel the tension building heavier and thicker in the ambiance.

It was so uncomfortable you felt like you had to go. “I’m gonna wash my hands before eating, I won’t be long.” You got up to escape the funeral situation you were just in, but a hand grabbed yours, making you stop, you looked back with concern, Mizu was behind you with that angry gaze, sending shivers down your spine.

“It’s too dark to go alone.” She said, then looked at Taigen “Take care of the dinner, don’t screw it up.” He was about to talk but instantly shut his mouth like he knew if he talked he could end up dead.

You tried to forget her toxic behavior as you two disappeared yourselves into the woods, the moonlight making the path for both, the silence feeding your ‘I’m fucked’ thoughts and increasing more when you felt her grip on your hand tightening, she ended up dragging you to a not so far place, finally letting out your hand. The only thing you could look was her back and her little black bun.

“What was that?” She spat, aggressively turning herself and hoovering over you.

“I told you we were just playing.“You stepped back, but unconventionally bumped with a tree behind you, before you could realize, Mizu had you cornered, your chest rising and falling against hers as she looked down at you.

“It didn’t look like it.” And the jigsaw puzzles connected in your head. She was jealous.

“Are you doing this because you’re-”

”Maybe. Seeing my dove pinned down by a bald monkey it’s not funny.” Her words were sharp, you didn’t even know how to answer.

Your hand gently caressed her cheek, making her gaze softened as she looked at you. “You’re the only one in my heart.” You whispered, dragging her closer to your face, her hands traveling down your curves and grabbing your hips tightly, your heat already increasing its temperature as it mets her knee, rubbing your core tentatively.

“I still want to fuck that pretty smile outta’ you.” Her lips attacked you like an animal, making you whimper and moan against her watery mouth, her knee making you hump on it desperately and your inner thoughts begging for mercy cause’ this night was going to hit you hard and long.

[angelsdvsts]

"i guess at the end of the day it's my judgement, right? honestly, i'm not sure you're able to keep up with me. i might be better at handy work than you are." deciding to keep him on his toes, leaving him curious as to exactly what she meant... that there was more behind the bows and short cheer skirt. truthfully, ayla believes that all he's trying to do is earn dates to get into her pants.. maybe he believed that she was also a dumb naive girl that would do anything to be with him. anyone could see the blooming tension between the two hot athletics, even she can't deny that she was attracted to him, but, she enjoys watching him scrap up ways to impress her. was it wrong to want a man so obsessed with her that he'd do anything just to get her attention? "exactly, i'm glad that you're willing to adjust to my likings. it's awfully considerate of you." whether it was him bundling up her raven colored hair as she got down on her knees before him or bend backwards awaiting for him to stuff his fat cock deep inside -- to have him yank and pull each time the pleasure got too much for him. laughter falls from her lips, a hand moving to cover her mouth fully not expecting his answer to be so quick. "i love a man that knows what he wants and isn't embarrass to admit it." but the one lingering question was what about her made her so different? lips presses together as if she's thinking about his words, "hmm, i'll agree to the night date if you make the ending goal friday night's game. remember it all goes back to that," fingertip moves to tap his nose, wanting him to earn it, to prove to her that he actually really wants another date with her. when he wiggles his fingers, hers moves up to grab his hand -- even more laughter erupting, "think i'd rather keep them warm with your lips around them," she teases, wiggling her brows in a playful manner. "if it's embedded in your brain then sounds to me that you'll get biology down really well," wouldn't mind him keeping a video or two of her, allow him to see her fully via video before he actually gets a chance in real life. scoff escapes her lips, playfully rolling her eyes at his cocky manner, expecting nothing less from him... what was shocking was his following words, how he state he won't play with anyone's emotions. it makes her question everything. "always clear on what you want? so what is it that you want with me?" maybe it was a risky question to ask on their first date, but she didn't care. eyes darts over towards his lap before looking back up towards his features, rolling her eyes -- yet there was a smile pulling at the corner of her lips. "i ain't scared of shit, sure as hell not scared of you." she mutters, scooting even closer as she sits upon his lap. hips teasingly rocks against him as she grows comfortable. "you should be scared of me, i bite."

"i wouldn't expect anything less", homme breezily agrees, "i wouldn't embarrass myself by hyping my handy skills up and then failing when it's time to prove myself", and if he made anything clear on this date it was that he definitely did want to impress ayla. he's never left a girl unsatisfied, even if afterwards they called him every name they could think of when they realised he wasn't looking for a girlfriend. it wasn't difficult to listen when he told them it wasn't serious, so if they decided to believe they could change his mind by having a tight pussy or a fake breathy moan then it wasn't really his problem. he's never thought much about those past hookups, once it was over arlo was moving on, but he didn't think he could do that with ayla --- didn't want to stop at taking her just once. they hadn't done more than suggestively kiss and he was already hungering for more, wondering where he'd take her for their next date because he would score that goal for her. "and i'd seriously hate for your attention to be snagged by your own hair, so it's best to just keep a tight hold on it for you, right?" it would be his pleasure, gathering her silken locks as she gets down on her knees before him or climbs on to his bed and shows off her undoubtedly pretty pussy and tight ass. "i am pleading for another date with you, ayla", is quick to admit, not a trace of embarrassment or shame in his face. "let me take you somewhere different, hm? a night date instead of a day one?" treat her to dinner at a place outside of campus and then indulge in drinks and her body if it went well, if they were both still feeling this tension around one another. "i'll keep 'em warm! don't you think these hands are capable of keeping your pretty tits warm and comfortable?" lifts the one that wasn't currently playing with her hair, a playful wiggle of his fingers. "i'll rewatch them until they're burned into my brain, you can count on that." especially if they leaned more toward the physical side of their studies. "i am a decent fuck so y'know . . . them wanting more than one is expected", a cocky grin plasters itself across his face, "but i'm always clear on what i want too, which in most cases is just a one time thing --- i'm not gonna play with someone's emotions just to get my dick wet." laughing at her words arlo drags his tongue across his bottom lip, tapping his hand lightly against his thigh. "then why don't you climb on up here? unless you're afraid?" taunt floats between them, hues dipping briefly down toward her body.