#ponce x reader

[vivaladicamillo]

someone needs to write a rut ro/reader/ponce fanfic bc that would be crazyyyyyy

#they both make me giggle #ponce and rut ro are the best #jackass #brandon dicamillo #brandon dicamillo x reader #cky #cky2k #cky4 #cky crew #cky clip #dico cky #cky x reader

[fandomwritingbit]

Okay last one- for now

Michael x female reader hate smut-

Michael is a straight up bully to reader, they always argue and never get along, but one night readers car breaks down confidently in front of his home- doesnt help that its raining so she is getting soaked, she tries calling her roommate but because its night they dont pick up.

Michael comes out to see whats going on and he spot her, he rolls his eyes and makes her get inside instead of staying in the cold, grumbling that he will fix it in the morning and she can sleep in his room, he even lets her have some of his clothes- but he makes her sleep on the floor, she refuses to saying its cold and after a bit of arguing he grabs her and kisses her quiet, telling her he knows a way to keep her warm if she wants

Reader consents and the rest is up to you 👀

Okay, so I’ve never written for Michael before... but I had way too much fun with this. I wrote it kind of like a comedy with smut because I get perverse enjoyment out of bullying Michael lmao. Hope it’s to your liking!  

Warnings: smut nsfw, vaginal sex, creampie god I hate that word swearing, bad car knowledge, reader and Mike are both kinda arseholes, Will cameo, a joke about a dead parent, yes ik it sounds bad, but give it a chance cos that’s funny af irl.

Driving home from the shop, you double flick the windscreen wipers as the hammering rain only gets worse. You’re already wet from the 10 seconds you spent outside, your jeans clinging uncomfortably to your legs and dampening the seat underneath you. 

Mumbling a ‘for fuck’s sake’, you turn down another residential road, still over two miles from your house, the quick nip out for fags having taken up way too much of your night. 

Its then that the worst sound possible could be heard. Your engine packing in, squealing like a stuck pig in a fence, followed by a juddering thud as you’re mercifully able to steer it up the curb outside a house, before it completely dies on you. To be honest, you’d know that this shit-raft hadn’t had long left but really, tonight? Right now? So far from home? After you’d just spent a fucking fortune fuelling up? Bleeding typical. 

You get out of the car, no umbrella or jacket to speak of and are wet to the bone before you can even get to the bonnet and peer inside. Seeing smoke depressingly coming from some part of the vehicle you couldn’t name. 

“What the Hell are you doing here?” Someone behind you says, emphasising the ‘you’ with disgust. Of course you turn, ready to give someone the mouthful of profanity you were saving for this limp cock of a car. You recognise the tallish, messy haired lad immediately and curse in annoyance. Fucking great: it’s Michael Afton. 

You found him such a silly ponce. And he you, a nasty prick. Having known each other since college and now finding yourself studying at the same Uni, your animosity towards each other having grown and matured into a smouldering hatred that caused arguments anytime you were in a room together. Only yesterday morning you’d given him a mouthful for how he’d acted towards you in a Costas. And so, seeing him now, you almost laughed at how this night probably couldn’t get any worse. 

“You’re really here to give me shit now?” You sigh, trying to keep a level head as he probably had a better chance of fixing this car than you. “My car’s dead as a dodo.” 

“That...” He smiles at you meanly, enjoying the sight of you soaked through and looking damn right miserable. “...is a shame.” He turns to walk up a drive into a house you assumed was his, grinning at your anguish. 

Giving him the wanker gesture behind his back, you pull out your phone, registering the sound of a front door closing, whilst your shaky, wet hands tried to dial your roommate. Eventually you succeed, but it goes straight to voicemail, their phone clearly dead or off. Leaving you stranded as your parents were out of town and no one else was local, it being summer hols and you being home from Uni. You put your hand on your head, desperately trying to find a solution to your freezing cold predicament. 

From inside his house, Michael peeked through his curtains surprised to see you still stood outside in the rain. Surely, you’d have the common sense to get back in your car or something. But no. He watched you looking like a stray cat for a few minutes before his decency took over and he goes to the door to see if you’re alright. 

“You standing there all night, y/n?” 

You laugh sharply, tears of frustration threatening to spill. “Just fucking might.” 

“You wanna come in while you wait for someone?” He says, sighing at having to spend time in the same building as you, but still feeling a shred of pity. 

“I ain’t got anyone to come get me.” You say, hands rising to an irritated shrug.

“Still wanna come in for a bit?” 

And although you’d usually rather stick a spork in your eye than sit around with Michael Afton, it beat standing here, or sitting in your car. But only narrowly. 

He leads you through his front door, showing you a bathroom and after you heavily hint, giving you some dry clothes to wear whilst your own dried on a radiator. You thank him reluctantly, going inside said toilet to put on the joggers and hoodie he’d given you. Scowling to yourself in the mirror as you can smell him on the clothes. 

You come out after promising yourself to not let him wind you round the bend. Finding your way to a kitchen, where stood leant against a counter, after nicely, he’d boiled a kettle for you. 

He hadn’t expected the movement in his trousers at seeing you in his clothes, it felt intimate and kind of sexy. And for a moment he just saw you as a good-looking lass, not the witch that had been haunting him for 4 years. 

“Thanks for the clothes and the hot drink- I appreciate it.” 

“Yeah, you should. I was tempted not to invite you in.” You smile sarcastically at him, walking over to the rack of mugs you’d spotted on the counter, grabbing some kind of fancy-arse tea bag. 

“I don’t know what I’m gonna do. My parents are out of town.” You briefly explain to him, using the mug to warm you aching hands. To which he stood silently, watching your arse in his trousers as you did so. 

“If you promise to keep your mouth shut, you can stay here.” He offers unenthusiastically.

“Why would I want to do that, Mikey?” You laugh.

“Feel free to go back out-fucking-side.” He gestures with his hand in the rough direction of the door, a very familiar sneer on his face. 

And what else could you do? Sleep in your car outside in a neighbourhood you didn’t know that well? So you agree, not hiding the look of despair the prospect gave you. Which only doubled when he told you his dad would be coming home so you’d have to sleep in his room. On the floor. Like a dog. 

~

He threw a couple of pillows on his carpet, then a paper-thin blanket, looking at you with a stupid smug expression on his stupid smug stupid fucking face.

After about 10 minutes of shivering on his floor, your back already throbbing from the lack of mattress, you grow tired of hearing the shit tik toks he was watching. 

“I can’t sleep here, this is ridiculous.” You sit up, making him jump a little at the abruptness. “What did you just shit yourself for? Forget I’m here?” You say somewhat meanly, a snicker accompanying it, standing up and cracking your neck.

“Shut up. Where are you gonna go like?” His voice takes on a cutting mocking tone, “Get in here with me?” 

You walk over to him, face a picture of annoyance. “That what you want Mike? Me to get in fucking bed with you?” You laugh, bringing you head down to his level as he was sat. “To think, all this time I thought you were a cunt to me because you hated me. When really you just want to fuck me.” Shaking your head, you point a finger at him, “God that’s fucking pathe-” 

Your further insults are cut short when he grabs you and kisses you harshly on the mouth, the only thing he could think to do to get you to shut the fuck up for once. And you’ll admit, you respected the bollocks on him for it.

Maybe it was the frustration of the night’s events. Maybe it was built up hate between the two of you boiling over. Neither of you are sure. But you let him pull you on to his lap, kissing him back, tongues and hands quickly becoming involved.  

You feel the urge to call him names when you feel the hardness of his cock pressing against the inside of your thigh. But you stifle it, grabbing his hand to make him take his hoodie off your frame, not having to tell him to do the rest because he did so quickly. Rushing to unhook your bra and palm your tits, whilst you pull up his shirt, then down his trousers to gain access to his cock. 

There was no finesse to it, just hurried grabbing and heated biting of lips of necks. Both of you wanting to assert some level of dominance and fuck each other before it dawned on you that you hate one another. And so, it wasn’t long before he yanked you forward to pull his joggers down and your knickers aside, his thick cock spreading you open as sit atop him. It surprised you how good it felt to have him thrusting up into you, whilst your hips rolled fuelled by dislike and desperate to cum almost immediately. 

You did when he pushed you back, making you lay backwards before climbing on top of you and shoving himself back inside you. The new angle more than welcome, making you grunt as your orgasm neared. Hitting you hard as a freight train when his pace doubled to selfishly chase his own release, which due to the tight fluttering of your walls was closer than he realised. 

“Oh fuck.” He spat, pressing you flat into his bed as you instinctively wrap your legs around his waist eager for more of his hammering pace. “That's it. Shi- God you feel fucking good.” You had it in you to laugh then, his whiney voice cracking as he neared his end enough to make you smirk. Though it was wiped from your face when his thrust faltered and stuttered as he came inside you, seemingly unbothered about the consequences. 

Though in that moment you didn’t think about that either, too focused on the feeling of his release inside you. 

It wasn’t the last time you’d be experiencing that tonight. 

~

The morning quickly rolled around, and you slip out of Michael's bed to go and get something to drink, more than thirsty after last night. Bare feet pattering on wooden floorboards, you struggle to find his kitchen again as the house was unfamiliar. Eventually you get there and with your now dry clothes in hand you sit down with a much-needed glass of water. 

You weren’t sat long when you register the sound of footsteps descending stairs, a prickle of dread as you thought it might be Michael. 

"Who the fuck are you?" A gruff voice makes you turn your head towards the door of the kitchen, where a bloke you'd never seen before stood.

"Could ask the same for you." You raise an eyebrow at his curtness. "I'm Michael's... mate." You half-arse explain. The man leans on the doorframe a look of disbelief crossing his face, before he walked into the room smirking and started messing about with a coffee machine.

"What's funny about that?" You ask looking at him, there was resemblance between the two, but Mike would look 10 years younger stood next to his dad. 

"Nothing." He looks you up and down. "Credit to him: you're alright." He answers through a smirk aimed at you. You just laugh, turning your attention to your phone. Not noticing when Mike came to find you.

Glancing up at him you give a nod of acknowledgement before going back to your scrolling. Completely missing when his father gestures towards you with his head, mouthing the word 'respect' to his son, who looked mortified.

"Stop being a dick, pa." Michael snapped. You look up to see what was going on, catching Mr Afton looking away from you with a laugh. And give Michael a raised brow smile, whilst his dad leaves the room, not without another glance in your direction.

"What are you grinning at?" His tone reaks of irritation. Only growing when you point to the empty door saying,

"THAT explains so much." Through a teasing laugh.

"Fuck off."

"I'm trying to, but there isn't a bus for half an hour. And my car is fucked, remember?" He rolled his eyes, going to the coffee machine himself and mumbling when asking you if you wanted some. You did and told him as such.

"Ay, thanks." You say as he sets it down in front of you. Having the curtesy to sit with you while you wait, lest his dad hear his footsteps and sneak in like a fox in a chicken coup.

"You alright?" You ask him, unused to the sensation of being pleasant with each other and so rejecting it, poking him in the ribs.

"Can you be quiet for like 5 fucking seconds?" Each word is near hissed at you.

"What kind of scene would this be, if I was?" You roll your eyes as you take a sip of the coffee he made you. Laughing as you thought of another way to piss him off. "You're one to talk anyway, with all the ‘talking’ you did last night." He turns to your words, face a clear warning.

"Oh fuck, oh fuck. That's it. Like that. Shi- God you feel fucking good-" You mock moan, accompanying it with a lewd gesture that made him look over his shoulder to check his dad hadn’t returned.

"Shut the fuck up!" He rises, "like you didn't have a good time." He says through a face of disgust. You continue giggling, loving how easy it was to wind him up.

"Practically drooling over my cock, like a dirty bitch." You just laugh again; he couldn’t even touch your feelings with that shit.  

Letting silence fall over the two of you, you go back to your phone, giving him a smidge of respite. But he throws it back in your face after a mere two minutes.

"Will you stop tapping your foot, its driving me fucking nuts." And there's your green light to go at him again.

"You're a prick sometimes, Mike." You say, shaking your head. "But your dad- oh, no. He's really hot. Like scary, but scary sexy you get me?"

"Yeah... so's your mam." He snaps, his cheeks red. Instantly looking down when Mr Afton pops back in for something, unsure if you'll continue prodding and dreading if you did.

"Uhhh... my mam is dead, really funny there, mate." You say, your face falling still, and voice cracking on the last part. His whole demeanour changes, as does his father who stands like he's at attention in front of the squadron leader, both as tense as a spring.

"Oh shit, really? I'm sorry I-" He starts, panic flooding his face as he thought you were going to cry.

You laugh out of nowhere, "No. she isn't, Mike. But your fucking face." Mr Afton laughs from across the room, coming over to see the fallout that was about to occur, seeing the indignation on his son’s face and being unable to pity him.

"Ah you've got to bring this one back, Michael. She's fucking class." He says, grinning like a wolf. Mike scowls, despising you even more for ribbing on him with his own fucking dad.

"I should kick you the fuck out." He says exasperated, filled with dislike for you again. Sitting back down but not looking at you.

"Uh.” Mr Afton interjects. “You are not kicking my future daughter-in-law out of this house." You smirk, surprisingly feeling a tickle of guilt at being such a cock to him. 

But you have a feeling that you'll make it up to him later.

#fnaf #fnaf au #fnaf michael afton #michael afton smut #michael afton x reader #fnaf william afton #fnaf smut #fnaf 18+

[collinrobinsonsglasses]

Too Soft to be a Pirate

Izzy Hands X Reader (GN)

Chapter 15 and the final chapter of a series, but I think you could read a lot of these separately and understand what's happening.

Summary: Following the plot of Season 2, Episode 8 of Our Flag Means Death (but not completely). You take the bullet meant for Izzy Hands, and he cares for you.

Episode 15: Mermen

{Masterlist}

{Previous Chapter}

The surviving pirates from the raid found themselves confined in Spanish Jackie’s cellar, occupied by British soldiers under the command of some ponce named Prince Ricky. Izzy couldn’t help but think that the minor prince was one of the biggest twats he had ever met – even surpassing the unfavorable first impression left by Stede Bonnet. As the group waited, Izzy wrapped his arm around your waist, leaning on you for support. The presence of you and the rest of the crew was comforting; at least, you were all still alive and together. 

One of the men commanded Jackie to serve the soldiers upstairs. Izzy observed as disgust contorted Jackie’s face. She enlisted You, Black Pete, and Roach to assist her in the bar. Izzy had nearly forgotten about your short employment under Jackie, but it made sense that she would want people she trusted upstairs with her. However, the thought of being separated from you unsettled Izzy. He tightened his grip around your waist as you began to move away from the cell, prompting you to pause and turn to meet his gaze. 

“I’ll be okay, Iz,” you reassured him, though Izzy noticed the uncertainty that lingered in your expression. “Besides, not listening to Jackie seems more dangerous than dealing with a bunch of assholes,” you joked, attempting to lighten the mood. 

Izzy turned his gaze toward Roach, with a mixed look of sternness and one of a subtle plea. Roach, quick to pick up on Izzy’s unspoken request, reassured him with a firm nod. “I’ll look after them Mr. Hands. Don’t you worry,” he affirmed, offering Izzy a reassuring pat on the back. 

Izzy clasped both sides of your face, pressing a gentle kiss on your lips. Despite the teasing remarks from the surrounding crew members, Izzy didn’t pay attention to those twats, he wanted to just focus on you and how your lips felt against his. 

“If they’re getting a kiss, I think it’s only fair that I get one too, right babe?” Lucius playfully teased. Black Pete, happily fulfilling Lucius' request, promptly met his lips. 

Izzy observed as you, Black Pete, and Roach were escorted out of the cell. As Roach’s arm encircled your shoulders, Izzy heard the sound of him hatching a plan to prepare an extra-disgusting soup for the soldiers upstairs. Your small chuckle reached his ears as you left, and Izzy felt a relief that he could hear the sound of your laughter at least one last time. 

After a considerable amount of time had passed, Prince Twatty returned to the cell to address the remaining group of pirates. Izzy couldn’t stand the sound of his voice, he was truly ignorant about what it means to be a pirate. Using the opportunity to mock him, Izzy took pleasure in calling him Pinocchio. 

You had shown Izzy that book the other night, as you recounted the story of how you had it hidden among your belongings the day the rest of Bonnet’s books were tossed overboard. It stirred memories of story time aboard the ship and how much simpler life was back then. Izzy couldn’t help but regret all the energy he had wasted trying to control Edward. He wanted to go back to those simpler times and finally enjoy them by your side. 

Ricky issued a demand for Izzy to be taken upstairs. The prospect of engaging in a longer conversation with this insufferable ponce seemed unbearable, but Izzy’s resolve solidified knowing that you were up there. He was willing to endure the annoyance of listening to this twat speak if it meant ensuring your safety. As Izzy ascended the stairs, his eyes scanned the room, and there you were, tucked behind the bar alongside Roach. Together, you were busy filling soup bowls and serving drinks. Spotting your worried expression upon seeing him enter, Izzy discreetly smiled in your direction, hoping to ease any anxiety you might be feeling. 

Seated with Ricky, Izzy absentmindedly picked at a candle in front of him, displaying little interest in anything the man had to say. “I’ve always thought you were underrated. I mean, it’s absurd, isn’t it?” Ricky continued, his monologue droning on. “That Blackbeard, he gets all this praise, when you are quite clearing the brains of this operation.” 

A few weeks ago, that statement might have worked on Izzy, but things had changed. Thanks to you, Bonnet, and the crew, Izzy had gained an understanding of what it truly meant to be a pirate. It was a way of life that this twat would never understand. 

“You don’t know the first thing about piracy, do you?” Izzy asserted confidently, fixing a piercing glare on the man in front of him.

“Don’t I?” Ricky retorted sarcastically. 

“It’s not about glory. It’s not about getting what you want. It’s about belonging to something when the world has told you you’re nothing.” Izzy continued, his words carrying emotional weight as he reflected on finally feeling accepted as he was. He briefly glanced at you, and as your eyes met his, he found peace in your soft smile. “It’s about finding the family to kill for when yours are long dead. It’s about letting go of ego for something larger. The crew.” 

“Oh, my goodness. You’ve just grown so tedious.” Ricky sighed. 

Izzy paid no attention to the man’s dismissive comment as chaos continued to unfold in the bar. Izzy reflected, he had finally found a family – a crew who had chosen to accept him, and most importantly, he had you by his side, despite all the mistakes he had made in his past. 

“I destroyed the Republic of Pirates and that makes me the ultimate pirate.” Ricky bragged with confidence. 

“You’re not a pirate, lad. You’re a spoiled, entitled bunch of twats dressed in puffy, blue nighties.” Izzy replied, a smirk playing on his lips.

“Shame, I was going to let you live.” Ricky replied quietly, clearly offended by Izzy’s comment. 

“Kill me. Kill us all. Our spirit will last throughout your entire fucking empire because” Izzy paused before speaking for a second, realizing this was the first time he truly believed what he was about to say, “we’re good… And you are a rancid, syphilitic cunt.” 

In that moment, Ed, Stede, and Zengh stormed the bar with unwavering confidence as the men surrounding Izzy began to choke and gasp for air. Izzy observed each man around him succumbing to death, while the laughter of Spanish Jackie echoed through the air. Glancing over, he saw you behind the bar, looking stunned by the unfolding scene. Your eyes met his, and you quickly rushed over to where Izzy was seated. He reached out, grabbing your hands in his firm grip just as Zengh forcefully thrust Ricky out of his seat. Izzy felt relieved at the sight of Bonnet and Ed, both alive and reunited. 

Izzy was sitting on the table, and you stood between his legs, leaning against him. His arms enveloped you, squeezing you tightly as Bonnet described his suicide mission. In the midst of the unfolding plan, Izzy couldn’t help but imagine all the potential risks. Despite your protests, he volunteered to take charge of Prince Ricky, knowing that if he was in control, the risk of harm to you and the rest of the crew would be minimized. Turning around to argue, he met you with a gentle kiss on your forehead, silencing your objections. 

It felt right for Izzy to place himself in harm’s way rather than risk the safety of anyone else on the crew. In the past week, he had experienced more happiness than ever before, and if his final act could be protecting you, he would find satisfaction in that sacrifice. 

⚓⚓⚓⚓⚓⚓⚓

Marching towards the soldiers guarding the city, the group divided once close. You insisted on being in the same group as Izzy, you found the idea of the man with one leg leading the prisoner to be terribly stupid. Positioned closely behind him, you remained vigilant, prepared for something to go wrong. 

Marching forward, Izzy glanced back at you occasionally, maybe to just make sure you were still there. You forced a smile each time in response to conceal the fear gripping you. As the group neared the soldiers, you immediately detected a shift in Prince Ricky’s demeanor. Having met him during your time working at Jackie’s, he had always struck you as shifty and cowardly. So, when he turned to fire his gun toward the group, you were a step ahead of him. As the air erupted with the deafening sound of gunfire, you leaped in front of Izzy, shielding him from danger. A searing pain instantly shot through your shoulder as the impact of the gunshot reverberated through your body. 

The world around you momentarily blurred as you felt the force of the bullet striking you. Instinctively, your grip tightened around Izzy, steadying both of you. The pain, sharp and intense, pulsed through your shoulder, but the only thought that was on your mind was keeping Izzy safe. You managed to maintain your footing, but you felt lightheaded. 

“What the fuck did you just do?” Izzy gasped, his voice a mixture of shock and concern. 

He immediately cupped his hand around your face, his gaze dropping to your shoulder. Chaos continued to unfold around you – Edward, Stede, Black Pete, and Zheng engaged in a fierce battle against the soldiers, until they all laid dead on the ground. Despite the ongoing fight, you stood there leaning on Izzy, feeling detached from the world. The sounds around you blended into an indistinct buzz, and not a single word Izzy spoke seemed to reach your ears. The world snapped back into focus as Izzy frantically called Edward’s name. Through the haze, you felt the reassuring strength of Edward’s hand wrapping around to support one side of your body, while Izzy provided support on the other.

“Izzy, you told me once to let you know when I’ve been hurt, and I think I’ve been shot,” you whispered, your voice distant in a haze of pain. 

“You’re going to be okay,” Izzy replied with a gentle reassurance, his voice soothing. “We’re going to get you back to the ship, and Roach will fix you right up.” 

Edward remained silent, his concerned gaze flickering nervously between you and Izzy as they continued to help you walk toward the beach. Each step felt heavier, and the dizziness intensified, making you acutely aware of the sweat trickling down your forehead. It felt as if a fever was taking hold, your body struggling against the shock and pain. 

Eventually, you felt sturdy arms lifting you off your feet, relieving you from the need to run. As you looked up, you found Fang gazing down at you with concern, as you rested in his arms. “This is like the day we first met, Fang,” you whispered with a weary but genuine smile. Fang reciprocated with a smile of his own, although a hint of worry was in his expression. Gently lifted into the dinghy, you found yourself resting in Fang’s arms as the crew began to row. Above you, Izzy’s voice angrily rang out, urging the crew to move faster as they retreated. 

“Are you upset, Izzy?” you moaned in a daze, as you responded to his raised voice directed towards the rest of the crew. 

Izzy, upon hearing your voice, quickly looked down at you, his expression softening at the sound. “No, my love,” he whispered tenderly, his fingers gently running across your forehead, followed by a gentle kiss. “We just need to get back.” 

“I love you,” you sighed back, your words carrying a mix of affection and weariness as your eyes fluttered closed. You could hear Izzy’s voice urging you to stay with him, but as time passed, the pain intensified, and waves of dizziness overtook you. 

⚓⚓⚓⚓⚓⚓⚓

Roach took control the moment you were brought on board. The makeshift medical area was quickly set up, and Roach promptly evaluated the gunshot wound in your shoulder. Izzy stood nearby, his hand tightly entwined with yours, while the rest of the crew observed with concern. Roach’s hands moved with precision, cleansing the wound thoroughly and skillfully removing any debris. Throughout the process of Roach tending to your gunshot wound, occasional groans of pain escaped you in your sleep. Izzy, by your side, sought to offer comfort. His fingers gently traced through your hair, the soft strands slipping through his touch, and he whispered tender reassurances into your ear. The tension in the room gradually eased as Roach efficiently completed each step of the treatment. 

“All done,” Roach said with a calm confidence, securing the bandage in place. “They’ll need some rest, but I think they’re going to be just fine.” 

Fang gently carried you to Izzy’s cabin, carefully placing you on his bed with care. Before departing, Fang enveloped Izzy in a comforting hug, and Izzy reciprocated the gesture. Understanding the depth of Fang's care for you, Izzy felt indebted to him after recalling the countless times Fang had watched over you.

Pulling up a chair beside the bed, Izzy watched over you as you slept, his gaze softening. Izzy found the scarf in his room you had crafted for him, its familiar texture bringing comfort as he clasped it tightly in his fingers. The events of the day had nearly robbed him of you, and the thought of the rancid cunt who had shot you fueled his anger. He was going to fucking kill that twat next time he saw him. 

You had told Izzy you loved him, and after this moment, there was no way he could deny your words. You had taken a bullet for him and he would have done the same for you without hesitation. As he sat there, he yearned for you to wake up, to open your eyes, and for everything to be okay. 

Edward quietly joined Izzy, pulling up a chair beside him in the cabin. “They’ll be okay, mate,” Edward whispered reassuringly, placing a comforting hand on Izzy’s shoulder. “Our little mouse has been through worse.” 

“They have to be okay,” Izzy responded solemnly. The room was filled with an atmosphere of silent concern as they both sat there watching over you. 

The conversation you had with him encouraging him to fix things with Edward entered Izzy’s mind, and in that quiet moment, vulnerability seeped into his voice. “Ed, I’m sorry… I’ve been terrible to you,” Izzy admitted quietly, glancing over towards him. The shock of almost losing someone he loved made him want to fix things. Life was fragile and Edward was important to him, even after everything they’d been through. 

“No, Iz, I’m sorry,” Edward replied quickly, a frown etching his features as he looked at Izzy. “I shot you, Izzy.”

“I fed your darkness, Blackbeard,” Izzy continued, his voice carrying the weight of regret. “For years, I egged him on, even though I knew you’d outgrown him, but the truth is I needed him. Blackbeard, it was us.” 

“And now?” Edward asked curiously. 

“Neither of us need him anymore,” Izzy replied with relief, a spark of hope in his eyes. “The crew love you, Ed. Just be Ed.” 

Edward replied with a genuine smile, and for a while, they both sat in comfortable silence. Eventually, Ed took his leave, and as he departed, a sense of relief settled over Izzy. Finally, the burden of the past had been lifted, granting Edward the freedom to be himself, and in turn, allowing Izzy to do the same. 

⚓⚓⚓⚓⚓⚓⚓

As your eyes opened, you found Izzy seated beside you, his elbows propped against the mattress of the bed. He seemed fatigued, and his head was resting wearily on his hands. Izzy, lost in his thoughts, looked up as he noticed you awakening. His eyes conveyed a mixture of relief and concern, but quickly transferred into one of anger. 

“What the fuck were you doing?” Izzy seethed, his frustration evident. “You could have died.” 

It took a moment for you to orient yourself and recall the reason why Izzy was glaring at you. “You could have died,” you replied firmly once you remembered, meeting his anger with a determined gaze. “But I didn’t die.” 

“Don’t ever do that again,” Izzy shot back, his voice laced with raw intensity. “That’s not your choice to make.” 

“If I had the choice, I would do it again,” you whispered, your conviction unwavering. You watched as Izzy’s expression shifted into a grimace. 

“Israel Hands, please don’t be angry with me,” you implored, tears welling up in your eyes. Despite your exhaustion, you reached for his hand, but a sharp pain shot through your shoulder as you moved. You hissed in response, the sound of you in pain causing Izzy’s anger to melt away instantly. 

Izzy swiftly moved his chair closer to the bed, planting kisses on various parts of your face. He started with your forehead, then moved your cheeks, and finally to the tip of your nose. Closing your eyes, you savored the sensation of his lips on your skin. 

“I was just scared,” Izzy whispered, his vulnerability obvious. “I can’t lose you.” 

“I’m sorry,” you replied sincerely, as tears ran down your cheek. “But you’re required to be nice to me, Izzy. I’ve been shot.” you continued trying to add a lighter mood, making a playful pout, and jutting out your lower lip. Izzy rolled his eyes at your statement, but a chuckle escaped him, breaking the tension in the room. 

"You look tired, Izzy," you whispered to him.

"I couldn't sleep until I knew you were okay," Izzy replied wearily.

You began shifting over in Izzy's bed, making room for him. Despite expecting the pain in your shoulder, you did your best to mask it. However, Izzy, familiar with your mannerisms, saw through the attempt, and a firmness returned to his face.

"Stop fucking moving," Izzy barked.

"You needed room to sleep," you replied incredulously. "It was worth it," you whispered as Izzy stretched out beside you, leaning on his elbow.

“Why did you jump in front of me?” Izzy asked gently, his hand squeezing and resting on your thigh.

“I had to protect our Unicorn,” you replied with a sweet smile. There was a momentary pause before you continued, "I feel like, for the first time, you finally realized you can be yourself, and I thought you deserved to have that longer."

You could see love pouring from Izzy's expressions as you spoke to him. "Now you need to sleep," you said, raising your eyebrows with authority. "That's an order."

This earned another deep chuckle from Izzy. "Oh, you're giving me orders now, are you?" he teased.

"I may be just a crew member out there, first mate Hands," you whispered looking into Izzy’s eyes. "But in here, I'm the Captain."

You watched as Izzy's pupils dilated, and his face flushed. It was clear he enjoyed the playful banter, and you wished you didn't have a bullet wound in your shoulder. All you wanted was to be wrapped around the man lying next to you.

Izzy glanced down toward your lips with longing but made no move to meet them. "You had to go get yourself shot, didn't you?" he sighed.

"How long until this heals?" you inquired with a sigh.

"Roach said a couple of weeks," Izzy replied. "So, no more moving for at least today. Just rest."

"I guess you have to stay in here and sleep next to me, just to make sure I don't go anywhere," you whispered teasingly to Izzy.

"That's the plan," Izzy responded with a sleepy yawn.

For the next few days, Izzy insisted on bed rest, catering to your needs. He complained about limiting visitors, expressing that the crew's presence might hinder your rest. Not a single crew member listened to his request, which annoyed him to no end. 

Black Pete and Lucius extended an invitation for you to attend their wedding in the next couple of days, an offer you happily accepted. Frenchie, with his firm belief in music as a powerful remedy, serenaded you for an hour before Izzy kicked him out. Fang became a constant companion in your room, providing you company while Izzy attended to duties on deck. You were thankful for Fang. 

Finally, Edward paid a visit, sharing his plans to open an inn with Stede. A giant grin spread across your face as he spoke to you, reminiscent of the old times on The Queen Anne’s Revenge. In that moment, chatting with Ed, he appeared truly at peace with himself for the first time.

After a few days passed Izzy helped you move onto the deck for Lucius’s and Pete’s wedding. Seated in a chair you felt Izzy firmly standing behind you. His eyes were attentively monitoring your well-being. His hand rested on your uninjured shoulder throughout the ceremony, the warmth of his touch providing you reassurance. As your friends exchanged vows, you could feel Izzy’s fingers lovingly rubbing up and down the back of your neck. 

As you observed Lucius and Black Pete declare their love for each other, your mind wandered to the day you witnessed their first dance. Many changes had occurred since then, but things were so much better. Glancing at Ed gazing at Stede, you smiled, wondering when you might be attending their wedding.

Feeling Izzy kiss the top of your head as the ceremony concluded, you closed your eyes in bliss at the romantic gesture. Izzy serenaded the newly married couple with a song, casting lingering glances toward you as he sang. Each look from Izzy felt tender, melting your heart as you observed him fully embracing who he was. The admiration in the eyes of the crew mirrored back to the night of Calypso’s birthday, and a wave of immense gratitude washed over you. Seeing Izzy alive, standing proudly before his crew, filled you with a profound sense of relief and joy. You loved him, and the thought that you had more time to stand by his side filled you with a sense of contentment. 

As the festivities continued, exhaustion gradually set in, most likely because it was the first time you had truly left your bed since the injury. Izzy immediately noticed the weariness in your demeanor and gently urged you to retire for the night. Placing his hand on your back, he guided you to his cabin.The night found you with your head resting on Izzy's chest, strategically avoiding any strain on your injured shoulder. The need to be close to him prevailed, and you enjoyed the comforting presence of his heartbeat beneath your ear. 

⚓⚓⚓⚓⚓⚓⚓

Following the wedding, it was announced that Ed and Stede would stay behind to open their inn. Izzy felt a sense of peace towards Blackbeard's departure from his life at sea. The crew bid their farewells to the pair on shore, with Izzy firmly gripping Edward’s shoulder as they stood in front of the chosen tattered building for their new home. 

“Just be Edward.” Izzy whispered to his friend, offering a final piece of advice after everything they had been through. He hoped it would be the last message he needed to convey to Ed, in case they never crossed paths again. “He’s your problem now,” Izzy joked with a smile, addressing Stede Bonnet. 

Izzy made his way back to the ship and engaged in conversation with the crew as they pondered the future of The Revenge. Noticing your absence on the deck and finding his cabin empty, he instinctively headed to the spot where he knew he would find you. Discovering you on the bow, Izzy joined you. He contemplated how this spot, under the once-complete Unicorn masthead, had become significant for both of you.

"Did they pick the new Captain yet?" you asked, leaning against him.

"They asked me to be Captain," Izzy replied quietly.

"That makes sense," you said with a smile. Izzy reflected on the time you had told him he would be the best captain. Initially, he thought you might have been teasing him, but as time went on, you consistently showed your belief in him. Your unwavering support started to make him believe in himself. 

"But I turned it down," Izzy chuckled.

Turning towards him in shock, you questioned, "That makes less sense. Why?"

"Being First Mate is enough for me. I've already got everything I need," Izzy replied, seemingly at peace. He leaned down to kiss you, showing remarkable gentleness to avoid your injured shoulder.

"Who's the captain, then?" you chuckled gazing at him, as he broke the kiss. 

"They decided on Frenchie," Izzy stated firmly.

Izzy watched a huge grin spread across your face at the news. "Do you think we'll be ordered to leave out gifts for the fairies?" you teased Izzy.

"Fuck off," Izzy replied, rolling his eyes but gently turning you and pulling you closer to him. He wrapped his arms around your waist, hugging himself against you and kissing the side of your neck furthest from your injury. He felt you sigh at the warmth of his breath on your neck.

"Israel Hands, now that I've been shot and survived, does that make me a real pirate?" you teased. 

Izzy pondered over the countless times he had insisted that you didn’t belong in a life of piracy. Regret now filled him because the individuals he had once considered soft or not real pirates turned out to be the ones he needed the most. Stede Bonnet, in particular, had consistently proven him wrong, and he now acknowledged the extent of his underestimation of everyone on Bonnet’s crew. 

"You've always been a real pirate, love," Izzy replied, a hint of guilt present in his voice. "You're my favorite pirate," he added softly, nuzzling his face into your neck.

When Izzy found you huddled below deck with Fang more than a year ago, he could never have imagined that he would find himself holding you in his arms. You, along with Stede Bonnet, had become a significant turning point in both his and Edward’s lives. The transformation had been profound, and Izzy had no desire to revert to how things were before. 

Holding you close, he felt a profound sense of gratitude and warmth, thinking about how much you meant to him. You were his little mouse, someone he wanted to hold onto forever. Both of you stared into the sea as the ship sailed off into the horizon, treasuring the moment and soaking in the love you both truly deserved all along. 

Taglist: @5tud10-54r4h @locamoka-blog @promptly-mercy @this--is--music @raviolical @lxsm2 @emilynissangtr @stedefxckingbonnet

#ofmd #our flag means death #izzy hands #izzy hands x reader #ofmd x reader #ofmd fanfic #too soft to be a pirate

[scoonsalicious]

Crack Fic Idea

I'll never write it, but it lives rent-free in my head:

Bucky x Reader x Spike Love Triangle.

Author's Reader's 'type' is >100yo, reformed mass murderers with guilt issues.

She has a history with Spike, but hasn't seen him in awhile.

Now, she's doing missions with Bucky & Sam.

She and Bucky have a 'will they/won't they' thing going on.

Bucky & Sam encountering vampires = hilarity, obviously, because they don't know what the fuck is going on.

They get kidnapped by some vamps.

Reader has to go to Spike for help to get her idiot friends back.

Bucky & Spike obviously hate each other.

They compete w/one another by calling Reader "pet" vs. "doll;" "love" vs. "sweetheart" to prove who is closer to her.

Spike calls Bucky a 'ponce' and 'nancy boy.'

Bucky calls Spike a 'punk.'

Reader's like "OMG, just kiss already!"

They both run their tongues over their lips, a lot. Cause hng.

Head tilts and narrowed eyes.

Sam's just happy to be here.

Is the Reader Buffy? Maybe, idk. Sometimes, in my head.

We are ALL Buffy.

A Slayer, at the very least.

So Spike can growl "Slayer."

You know how he do.

Who does she end up with?

Honestly, depends on the day and my mood.

Not Ew, Steve or Ew, Angel; that's for sure.

#crack fic #imagine #bucky barnes #spike btvs

[euphoriacafe]

Somebody I Used To Know: Elvis Presley Series 1

In The End ; Chapter 1

Austin!Elvis Presley x Female Reader 

Summary: A group of Diverse adults who are singers that traveled through other countries, some would call them hippies and others would call them abominations. Alexis, who is one of the main singers for the band, met Elvis Presley when he was barely starting his career and only fate can decide whether or not Alexis will save him. 

Warnings: Lots of Swearing, Yelling, Sexual content, Twisting of history and angst/mentions of death.

Note: This series is purely inspired by the songs, I wanna Be Yours by Arctic Monkeys & Somebody I Used To Know by Gotye.

PS. THIS STORY WILL HAVE SOME DETAILS SUCH AS HOMOSEXUALITY, TRANSGENDER, DRAG QUEENS, DIVERSE GROUPS

P.P.S THIS SERIES WILL ALSO HAVE 21ST CENTURY MUSIC THAT WAS MADE BY THE “ BAND ” SO GET OFF MY ASS PLEASE AND ENJOY xx

Chapter Two 

Flashing lights, muffled screaming from fans, sweat beaming down our faces from the bright lights, the music blasting through the room. My ears ringing and all I could feel was my heart beating fast as time felt like it froze for a moment. None of this felt real yet it was, everything that led to this moment was real and even then I could still feel his heavy eyes staring at us, at me. Turning my gaze to my far right behind the huge black velvet curtain stood Elvis Presley. The king of Rock and Roll himself was in a trance peering at me. Even though I couldn’t live in this moment forever, I knew deep down I wanted to stay like this.

It was July 25th, 1955 and Elvis Presley was making a name for himself whilst I had fame to my name already. My head felt clouded with a number of emotions that I couldn’t even name. As I gazed back towards the open crowd of people in the room it was filled with people dancing, security backing people up, and of course big company representatives on a stand to see the stage. My group was only here for what felt like charity work yet at this moment I was happy I came. 

The Velvet Pristin was our group's name and we are the first diverse group that ever lived during our time. 

You had our oldest whose name was Dani Harison (29), he is the first Drag Queen to come out and be a performer. He is an African American man who is 6’2, fit yet thin, his eyes black, and his hair cut short till he puts on his wigs and clothes he designs himself. He becomes Monnet Blac and believe me when I tell you that she was fierce. Dani loved and thrived off of seeing the representatives  faces grow red and filled with hatred, because what is a little hate going to do. Then you had Scartella Wilson (25), our second oldest who was America’s sweetheart. Scartella was what every girl wanted to be thin, pale white, beautiful locks of blonde hair, filled heart lips, doe blue eyes, and her voice was like a dove singing.

Our third oldest was Kira Yuan (24), an Chinese American and she was the beauty standard and idol of China. She was graceful and fought back anything that was in our way, Kira was everyone’s back bone when they forgot who they were. Cherry Garcia (23) is the second youngest and she came from Mexico to escape the tragedy that happened, the biggest earthquake Mexico has ever had. She was tall, thin, long black hair, her tan was dark but was beautiful that it brought out her dark brown eyes. Then there was me, the youngest out of the entire group. My name is Alexis Ponce De Leon (20) I was the one who helped convince this group to happen and now we are here. My body was curvy yet some would call it provocative, my hair was to my shoulders, my skin was tanned to match my heritage of being also Mexican American.

Though the journey was a long way to go from where we started; now we are here in Memphis, Tennessee performing our latest songs that continue to shake the United States of America. Some newspapers would call us abominations and others would call us revolutionary. I looked up to view boxes where more fans were located screaming and chanting. I knocked back into my senses to finish my last note. 

“Bang, bang, there goes your heart, I know you want it, Back, back seat of my car, I'll let you have it, Wait a minute, let me take you there, Oh, Wait a minute 'til you, Oh, hey.” I breathed out the final words of the song breathing heavily. I looked back to my right to see Elvis was gone. As I closed my eyes, I threw my head back trying to catch my breath. The fans clapped and screamed trying to reach out to touch us on stage. 

“Thank you everyone, we love you all!” Dani called out into the mic hyping up the crowd further. “And thank you Mr. Representatives.” Dani winked and extended his hand to wave goodbye in a taunting way. Scartella blew kisses waving and bowing along with Kira and Cherry. As they left the stage I stood there still trying to get my breathing under control as I leaned down to touch a few people's hands. Some tried to pull me into the crowd while the security pulled them off. I smirked, pulling my hand away and doing a final little bow. 

As I strolled off the stage to see the others stand by our staff who were also our friends: Steven, Hunter, Greyson, Skye, and Rory. Steven Jones (25) was a white man who always loved wearing blue and black suits, he was 6’1, lean, and was your typical Tennessee gentleman. He was the one who would promote us and manage us. Hunter Miller (23) was a white man also but who came from Canada. Hunter was 5’9 and was a gentleman who was connected to his sensitive side. Yet, he was the one who would protect any of us from any harm whether it’s death threats or accusations. 

Rory Davis (28) was a Afro-Cuban man who found his true self through Dani. Rory was on the curvy side being almost 6’1, his English was broken yet he understood. He is the one who would design any stage outfits for the group and if needed make wigs to please his dear Dani. Rory and Dani have been lovers for 5 years but due to laws they could never marry, which angered him but being side by side with Rory is all that mattered to him.  

Greyson Begay (22) being a Native American, Navajo, to be exact he was 5’8 with black long hair that he kept braided pigtails that complimented his upswept corners and a slanted eye shape while his cheek bones were well defined. He never spoke too much yet words never went unspoken, he was the one who helped with song writing.  Finally you had Skye Rodriguez (21) Afro-Mexican American. Her hair was coily that formed into a big afro and her complexion was well defined, as if she could be a model. Clear black skin while her brown eyes were doe like. Skye worked with makeup and our hair as if it depended on it. 

“Must you be so extra Alexis?” Skye questioned handing me a glass bottle that was filled with water. I scoffed teasingly while taking the bottle. 

“If I’m not, who will be my darling?” I asked further, taking a small sip. There it was again, the feeling of being watched from afar. My eyes scanned behind my friends till I spotted him again. Our eyes met and the bottle touched my lips. I gave a small grin before looking away. Who did this man think he is to look that good and just want to stare. 

“Anyways, before we get carried away we were invited to an after party in Downtown Memphis to visit B.B King.” Steven cut off Skye from giving her sassy remarks. “You mean THE B.B King?” Dani gasped with excitement. 

“I heard he was making his way up there but formally inviting us to hang with him is beyond me.” Dani leaned his body into Rory’s side. 

“He said we are more than welcome. There will be other formal singers there so let's all head back to our hotel before we go, alright?” Hunter added as he wrapped an arm around Scartella’s waist. “I’ll be right there, let me just get something real quick.” I exclaimed walking away after the few short calls they gave. I walked to the other side of the backstage to pick up a small bag I left till I saw a shadow tower above me. I turned around looking up at the one and only Elvis Presley who was thin, his hair swept to the side, black eyeliner around his eyes and his natural soft pink lips. “Well hello there.” I tilted my head to the side gazing directly into those baby blue eyes of his. 

“Hello, I-I’m Elvis…Presley.” He stuttered and immediately his cheeks grew into a rosy color. I gave a small laugh and smiled while looking at him still. “I know who you are, you've been the talk recently I’m-” I was cut off by him quickly speaking. 

“Alexis, I know my girlfriend loves to listen to you constantly when you’re on the radio.” Did he say girlfriend? Of course, how could I be foolish. My real smile then turned into a fake smile and my eyes slowly started to zone out. As I was zoning out I swear I could see that he even noticed that my smile faded. Elvis started to stutter again but to not waste much more of my time I spoke up once again.

 “Well I’m glad she does. Now lets never meet again Mr. Presley.” I pushed gently past him leaving the poor man stunned. 

I sighed walking away as my heart felt heavy and my ears began to ring once more again. I closed my eyes a little bit seeing his baby blue eyes that were carved into my mind. Love wasn’t in my cards and it won’t ever be. I’ve been with this group for the past 6 years and the whole time flings would come and go from the group but I could never get myself to fall for one. Shame on me for finding a boy attractive to the point I forget that there could be a possible lover on the side. I felt the eyes burning into my body till I turned the corner down the steps and into the parking lot that was cut off from the public for musicians.

“What took you so long?” Greyson called out as he was leaning against the black Cadillac with a cigar between his lips. 

“I signed a fan’s book, what else do you want from me?” I bit back about his question as I was getting into the car's back seat and laid my head back since the roof of the car wasn’t there. I stared at the starry sky listening to the faded cheers from inside the building.  

“Someone’s in a bad mood already.” 

Greyson got into the front passenger seat once he closed the door the driver began to start the car and finally move. Greyson felt the heavy energy I was giving off, he hated when I would get like this due to either feeling alone or I felt like I could’ve done better for performing to a crowd. Most times it was performing but this felt different. He never liked when guys would get close to me since he saw me as a little sister all he wanted to do was protect me. Aside from everyone else, Greyson knew me inside and out and was the one who took care of me once my parents passed away. 

“Would you like to just stay at the hotel tonight instead of going out?” Greyson yelled so I would be able to hear over the wind. I contemplated the factors and shook my head while closing my eyes once again breathing heavily. 

“No.” I spoke quietly. “I need a distraction.” I whispered to myself.

After a few minutes we got to our hotel and saw the lights bright and three people leaning on the railing. It was Hunter, Dani, and Rory. “Finally they're here!” Rory called out in full confidence and smiled. They must have been drinking. I looked at them above and called out “What am I wearing mother!” I called Dani who held a glass bottle of alcohol. 

“Come and see my beauty.” Dani chirped. 

Dani loved being called mother; it was something that made him feel protective over each and one of us. I got out of the car once Greyson opened the door and walked up to the second story of the hotel. “What held you up Alexis?” Hunter questioned as he glared at me up and down trying to read my body. 

“I needed to get my bag, now where is this beautiful outfit I’m going to be wearing.” I tried to rush my answer seeing Dani turn around in his heels that Rory customized himself. Opening the black door to see bags of outfits they had laid out for me. “Pick a color honey.” Dani whispered in my ear softly. 

Baby blue, those eyes still filling my head. God fucking damnit that man looked intoxicating that he left a imprint on me. No, no, it can’t be like this. He has a girlfriend and I’m not going to be stomping into that. Fuck it.

“Baby blue.” I whispered.

“Perfect we need to fix up your makeup and your hair then we can go meet that beautiful man, B.B King '' Dani perked up and Rory showed clear jealousy smacking his lips. “But no one can beat my gorgeous babe.” Dani grabbed Rory's chin and gave him a soft peck. I gave a faint smile and grabbed the bag the dress rested in. “Okay just give me a few minutes and I will be right out.” 

As 30 minutes passed I was dressed in this beautiful baby blue silk gown that showed a bit too much of my big cleavage but hugged each curve I had. That was it, Dani did it again with another gorgeous gown, he always thinks outside the box. While Skye came in to help fix up my makeup and touch up my hair I didn’t realize I was so zoned out looking at myself. 

“You look beautiful Alexis.” She whispered, rubbing my exposed shoulder. 

“I would hope so, Dani and you did such a beautiful job.” I smiled weakly, still staring at myself through the mirror. 

“Come on, let's go to this party before it ends.” Skye noticed that something was bothering me but it was better to just avoid it to not have any outburst. We drove to the downtown side where colored and a few poor white people only resigned. The sidewalks were filled with life till we parked next to the side walks. Two black Cadillac's  and we saw people crowding around chanting as we stepped out of the cars. We waved and smiled to each fan that we passed. 

“Right through here!” The door opened with a security guard standing, as we walked into the black building we went up the stairs to see a club filled with African American artists singing, dancing, drinking, and chatting. It was so lively. Everyone dressed in either their best suits or best dresses. 

“Monnet Blac!” B.B King called out from the other side of the room to move closer.

“Oh my lord, B.B King knows me.” Dani fangirled under his breath. Dani began to touch his black wig that was long and wavy. “Mr. B.B King it’s so nice to finally meet you, our staff and the rest of the group.” Dani pointed. I smiled and waved.

“It’s very nice to meet-” I paused when I saw a pair of blue eyes that was haunting my head. Black hair, black suit, his hair was now a bit messy. He spotted me through the crowd- once again the ringing in my ears came back, the room slowed down, and my breathing was caught in the back of my throat. B.B King took notice of this and glanced back at me. 

“That is Elvis Presley, a friend of mine. Have you met him yet?” He questioned as he came closer holding out an arm. I entwined my arm with him and shook my head “No sir, I’ve only heard of his upcoming.” 

B.B King strolled with me as we got closer to Elvis . He exhaled deeply and tried to give a confident grin as if I haven’t even met him yet. Gosh it irritated my soul yet it was attractive. 

“Elvis, this is Alexis from Velvet Pristin, Alexis this is Elvis- Elvis Presley.” I gave a fake smile and grabbed Elvis' extended hand. It was soft and warm- it felt as if electricity was flowing through our bodies. We stared at each other in the eyes and time seemed to slow down all over again. Elvis took a deep inhale and gripped my hand gently pulling me towards his body. I pulled my hand away. “It’s nice to meet you Mr. Presley.” I spoke softly. “The feeling is mutual mama.” Elvis continued to stare at me as I looked away. How the tables turned in this situation was beyond me but all I could think is ways to leave the situation in hand. 

“I’ll leave you two alone.” B.B King nodded with a smile as he walked away. I finally released my breath and looked at Elvis back. He snatched my hand and opened the door that was behind him that led into an empty room filled with tables and chairs. I yelped following him as he closed the door behind him. 

“You know a normal person would usually ask to talk alone instead of dragging.” I snapped at him as I released my hand from his. 

“Well, I wanted to get a moment alone with you before you tried to walk away again on me,” He paused, eyeing me. “Which by the way I feel like I’m kind of owed a reason why you just walked off in the first place.” He spoke kind of hurt but keeping a locked gaze. “I don’t owe you anything Mr. Presl-” 

“Elvis- call me Elvis sweetheart.” Elvis leaned against the table. 

Feeling a bit disobedient I inhaled going close to his face. “Mr. Presley, I don’t owe you an explanation other than just having to be on time for events, such as this one which I should be enjoying sir.” Elvis leaned down a bit meeting me at eye level, I could feel the hotness from his breath and the poor lighting barely showing any color of those baby blue eyes of his.  

Elvis scoffed and pulled away. “Fine.” He stood up and grabbed the bottle that was on the side of the table. “I love your dress, it’s really different and very…” He paused as his eyes scanned down my body and slowly dragged up to my face again. “Scandalous.” I puff and snatched the bottle from his hands.

“So, I can wear what I want when I want.” I unscrewed the bottle cap and held it to my lips staring at his eyes as he eyed my lips. “Plus don’t you have a girlfriend to be paying more attention to than watching what other girls wear?” I finally took a sip and handed him the bottle, letting the warm liquor fall into my stomach loving the burn trailing down my throat. 

“I don’t watch what other girls wear, I’m just talking about your outfit, that's all mama.” He grasped the bottle into his hands. His fingers grazed over mine before pulling the bottle away from my grip. Elvis brought the bottle to his lips as well taking a gulp of it. “If you ask me I was just interested in the design of it.” He backed himself up. 

I smiled, fixing his hair and taking a dust bunny out of it. “Don’t talk to me then Mr. Presley- Talk to Monnet Blac.” I pulled back as well and just before I could open the door I turned around and carefully spoke. “Mr. Presley I mean it, let's never meet again. Good luck on your journey.” As I opened the door to the crowded room, the music was blasting, the singers singing on the top of their lungs, laughing and dancing. I felt my ears ringing and felt I was looking pale. I want him but I can never have him. I want him to chase me but I can’t have him. 

Mr. Elvis Presley.

#elvis presley #austin!elvis x reader #elvis 2022 #elvis and priscilla #austin butler #austin!elvis smut #austin!elvis #elvis #elvis movie #elvis masterlist #if youre looking for trouble #fic reading #fic rec #baz lurhman #ally reads #elvis fanfic #elvis smut #elvis x reader #austin butler x reader #austin butler angst #austins elvis

[soralinklokidottirofmirkwood]

The Hobbit x Neko heterochromic teen reader part 2.

The company is at Beorn’s house (I made the image above from my Samsung phone like 2 years ago)

It's been 3 months since I meet the company, over the time I've been with them they became like a family to me Thorin and Bilbo were like parents, Gandalf, Balin, Dori and Oin were like grandfathers (Dori being the cooler one), Dwalin, Gloin, Bofur, Bifur, Bombur, and Nori we're like uncles, Fili, Kili, and Ori were like the big brothers I never had. Bilbo was on the look out for Orcs but said he saw a huge bear and that's when Gandalf said something about a house near bye, we ran until we got to the house with the huge bear not far behind us, we all got into the house and slammed the door.

Thorin: "what is that?"

Gandalf: "that is our host!"

It then came to me that our host is a skin changer how do I know?

S/N told me stories about skin changers and how they’re animal forms are bigger than the ones we see, I was snapped out of my thoughts when Gandalf said we should rest since we leave for a place called Mirkwood in the morning.

In the morning:

My eyes fluttered open as Ori woke me as we are meeting our host I followed Ori to the door as the company began walking out one by one as Gandalf introduced them to a very tall man chopping wood he was very hairy more than Gandalf and the Dwarves he had a beast like face but other than that he was handsome as my sister told me "never judge a person by their appearances!", "ahh and here is our youngest Y/N L/N, dear say hello to our host Beorn." I looked up at Mr Beorn and gave a polite warm smile "Hello it is a pleasure to meet you Mr Beorn!" the company looked up at Mr Beorn as he walked up to me patted my head urning a purr from me making every one aww at me as I purred "little kitten has manners." Mr Beorn said with a smile.

Back inside Mr Beorn made us breakfast.

As I ate my porridge I heard him say something about being the last of his race "I know how you feel." all eyes turned to me with sympathy but Mr Beorn broke the silence "I heard that there are only 2 members of the half cat race left." I looked up "the other was my sister, she was killed by orcs trying to help our village 3 months ago, but I managed to run into the company my new family.” As I said that everyone had small tears coming through their eyes Mr Beorn smiled "little kitties heart is in the right place, no child should go through something so tragic, though I don't like dwarves they are greedy and blind, blind to the lives they deem lesser than their own." as he says this he picks up one of the mice scattering on a chess board. I managed to control my urge to ponce on it since Mr Beorn cares about his animals, "but orcs I hate more, Plus kitten needs new clothes her old ones barely look like cloths." I looked down and saw that he was right. My skirt, outer corset, sleeves, and leggings were shredded and looked more like rags. I was given new clothes by Beorn (imagine above but the tunic is in your favorite colors) I put my choker, pendant, armband, boots, belt, fingerless gloves and cloak back on but when I took off my old clothes I saw my late dad's sword attached to the back of my old dress "sis must have put it there before I ran." I attached it to my belt and got out to meet with the company they nearly fanboyed at the sight of me "you look amazing Sister," big brother Ori said in awe, Thorin saw my Sword "have you always had that?" I looked at Dad's sword "it belonged to my late father, he was a warrior but retired after my late mother fell pregnant with me." everyone was so amazed but saddened by the tale "it must be hard growing up without your parents little one but your still strong your family would be so proud of you, now what do you need!?"

We are now riding to Mirkwood but before we go Beorn told us to be careful of the forest as it will drive us to insanity. We finally made it to a haunted looking forest "somethings not right about these place!" I thought while gazing at the dark forest that had Eru knows what roaming around in It.

As we stoped I could see Beorn in his bear form in the distance "may Eru be with you new friend." I whispered until Gandalf said "reales the ponies, let them return to their master!" as we released them Gandalf took his horse to go somewhere (as usual🙄) but before leaving he said "stay on the path", we walked in and I felt a dark energy from the forest as if it's been ill for centuries.

#the hobbit #platonic #mirkwood elves #thranduil #legolas #neko reader #the company of thorin oakenshield #bilbo baggins #teen reader #heterochromia #tauriel #bard the bowman #gandalf

[ckygetsjobs]

why are you wearing that 

Dico x gn reader

A/n: Idk how to put warnings for this but. Ig name calling? It’s like one time but some may find it insulting. NSFW warning (like it’s literally the plot). Me and my horrible writing skills. Another self indulgent piece. This isn’t even what I was originally going to write about.

You weren’t sure what he was up to while he was filming for minghags, but he would be gone for long hours. He’d always come back in a ridiculous outfit that he was in when he was in character, like Ponce, or even Robin Hood (you didn’t even ask about that one, you didn’t want to know). You were snacking on another unhealthy food, not even bothering checking the calories, you didn’t give a shit. You were bored out of your mind, hoping his ass was going to be home soon. No luck though, hours and hours passed, you weren’t sure what time it was at this point but probably some time after two am. He finally waltzed his fucking late as hell ass into the living room. You couldn’t believe what he was wearing. You didn’t even know if you should laugh or question him if he was crying for help. So you opted out of both and instead just stared into his eyes which were kinda obscured by the thick black framed glasses he had on. You had never seen him wear glasses, fake or not, but you admit he looked really good in them. His black wig curled and fell a little bit into his eyes as he tried to fix it, letting out a lot of fucks and a long string of sighs. You weren’t going to let him suffer with it forever, no matter how amusing you may have found it. You styled it where it didn’t fall into his face and he just looked a lot more relaxed now, but he also looked like he was up to something, which you absolutely didn’t want to deal with right now. He sat on the couch, clearly waiting on something you didn’t know about yet. 

His tie was undone and his suit was wrinkled, making him look like a frightening mess. He usually cleaned himself well in a sense, other times he was just filthy, you weren’t expecting much given the history he had to get caked in food. His clothes weren’t dirty this time, he just looked like he had been through hell. “Well, aren’t you going to offer to take my clothes off?,” he asked with a god awful voice, really annoying but also really sexy. He had sex appeal, of course he always had, but especially right now, you played along for the fun of it. “All you had to do was ask baby,” you whispered at him, grabbing for the belt of his pants, throwing it onto the floor and pulling his pants half way down. Untying his tie and taking off the rest of his outfit until he was just in his blue and white boxers, having a sneer look on his face that was getting bigger and more alarming the further you got into whatever horrible thing he had planned for the rest of the night. It wasn’t going to be dark out for much longer, but that didn’t concern you much, you’d still fuck him, the situation was the same, the dark was just more fun. The couch squeaked as he hopped to get his pants fully off, throwing his shoes far away, and he’d probably end up searching for them in the morning when he had to go back to filming. 

“Lie down” he instructed, not being nice about it whatsoever. You listened, silently sinking into the couch, staring up at him as he was on his knees above you, brushing his fingers through your hair. “You’re being a good whore,” he said next, taking his dick out. Him telling you to open your mouth wrung in your ears as you struggled to put it all in your mouth at once, but he was very good at helping as he gently coaxed you into it. Once it was all in your mouth you just began to suck and suck, he moaned and held tightly onto your hand, to keep him grounded and to touch you more. He began to thrust, it was quick, he had no interest in waiting that was for sure. “How’s it feel to suck off Rut Ru? Pretty fucking great,” he already answered the question himself, not leaving a chance to disagree. “You are good,” you said a response anyway, and the answer seemed to please him as he was going harder and more smoother than before. You just kept going, letting him say rude ass shit and hear him go on and on about being rich. As he finally came into your mouth he told you to swallow, you did it without hesitation. He tasted so good, you’d do it on any occasion, even if he didn’t ask. Just felt hotter when he did ask, especially as this Rut Ru character. When he put his dick back into boxers he just laid his almost naked body on top of you. You held onto him, making sure he was secure and wouldn’t fall off the couch, it wasn’t big enough for two people really but you made it work. He kissed your cheek, giving you a soft gaze, you could also tell he was very sleepy. Not even that long later, he fell asleep, his hushed snores escaping his mouth. He was tired long before all that but he still did it anyways. You had to give him credit, he was still amazing as hell, and you definitely wanted to do this again. You closed your eyes and let the dark drift you off to sleep with your arms still holding him, but now just a little bit tighter. 

#I’m so bad at writing blowjobs I apologize #last night I just really needed something to satisfy my needs #Guess him dressed as rut ru was that thing #Don’t even ask me why I wrote this until one am last night #I don’t want to talk about it #Not tagging #most embarrassing one yet

[jfks-phat-cheeks]

Hey there! I absolutely love your Clone High content. Can I get some general relationship hc's with Ponce? I haven't seen enough of those with him. Keep up the good work! :))

Finally!! Some ponce content ;) also I will not be talking about his death 😌 in my mind he simply transferred schools 😌😌

Dating Ponce Hc’s

Ponce is all in all a very chill guy, everyone and their mother knows this. And a lot of the school would not mind to get up and personal with him if you know what I mean.

So to be fair people were kinda upset when they found out he was no longer on the market. But soon got over it when they realized how cute you guys are together.

Ponce loves to see you in his jacket, makes his heart flutter. He will literally give you his jacket at the beginning of the day, just to see you walking around with it on around the school.

You guys go on a surprising amount of picnics. It became the sort of go to date for you guys. Although you are going to have to smack some sense into ponce for littering.

If you dig into him enough he will stop fyi 👀

He is very respectful of your boundaries. And he never pushes for explanations as to why you have that boundary.

Ponce’s favorite place to kiss you is between your eyes, above the bridge of your nose. When you ask him why he says it’s because it’s funny to watch your face scrunch up afterwards.

If you ever need advice or just an ear he is always there for you. And he will always take you out to get a treat afterwards.

Also this man is surprisingly possessive of you? Like you wouldn’t think he is, and he would absolutely never say so out loud. But if you pay close enough to his body language he can get jealous pretty easy.

It’s not that he doesn’t trust you, no no no. He just gets worried sometimes that you will find someone better then him. Reassure him that this isn’t the truth.

All in all ponce would be a great boyfriend, I love him. 20/10

#clone high #clone high headcannons #clone high headcanons #clone high x reader #clone ponce #ch ponce #ponce clone high #clone high ponce #ponce x reader #ponce headcanons #ponce headcannons

[virtueangel]

clone high x reader inserts!!

hey y’all!! so i’m gonna start writing some clone high x reader headcanons/possibly short fics upon request! i can also write for ships and general hcs, as long as you give me information about what you’d like to see. here’s some information that you need to know before requesting: 

send me an ask! it can be anonymous or not, that part doesn’t matter! in the ask, please include:

your age/age range (i. e. 14, or year in high school) 

your pronouns! neopronouns are completely valid as well

some facts about yourself; the more specific, the better! this can include your myers-briggs personality type, what you like to do in your free time, books or shows that you really like, your ideal first date, stuff like that! feel free to add whatever you like; it’ll really help to personalise the hc 

the character(s) you want me to write for

your sexuality (this one could possibly be optional, depending on the kind of hc that you want)

you can also include if you want it to be romantic or platonic. if you don’t, i’ll just assume that you mean romantic. 

here’s an example of what your ask could look like:

hi, i’d like to request an artist reader headcanon with van gogh! i’m sixteen and i use she/they pronouns. my myers-briggs type is infp, i really like to draw detailed flowers and walk on the beach at sunrise. i’m a little bit shy, but still social, and i like talking about the latest movie i’ve seen. i’m also bisexual! oh, and i’d like it to be platonic please. 

characters i will write for 

💌 = ships, 🧸 = general headcanons, 🔮 = reader insert headcanons

jfk 💌🧸🔮

joan 💌🧸🔮

gandhi 💌🧸🔮

cleo 💌🧸🔮

abe 🧸🔮

van gogh 💌🧸🔮

ponce 💌🧸🔮

scudworth 🧸

(and if you can think of someone else, i’ll consider it)

note: the only romantic ship i will write for cleo (that isn’t x reader) is x joan... sorry guys. 

if this flops i’m just going to delete it sldkfjs but a few people have sent me asks because they were wondering if i do stuff like this so i hope y’all are still interested 

if this doesn’t make sense PLEASE send me a clarifying ask/message because i really want this to work out

oh also... absolutely NO SMUT!! you can send me horny asks because i think those are funny but there’s a 95% chance i’ll answer it but won’t write for it

also the first few might be kind of rocky because i’ll admit that i have NO IDEA what i’m doing

#clone high #clone high hcs #x reader #clone high ships #clone high jfk #clone high joan #clone high cleo #clone high abe #clone high gandhi #clone high van gogh #clone high ponce #writing #send asks #ask me!

[dominantslasherking]

hello! may i please request a Patrick Bateman x reader with smut?

something like him getting jealous and the reader -reminding- him that he only has eyes for him

i think it might be fun to see Patrick still trying to act bitter while they're fucking but probably couldn't keep up the act for long 💀

Patrick Bateman with dominant Male S/o

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

Patrick looked at you, with an annoyed gaze as you entertained the guests, and one specific guest was hardcore flirting with you.

"Its...quite, rare to see such a funny, smart, and handsome man around here...And of course not all wrinkles and bags." The smaller male next to you giggled out, as he slightly adjusted his ruffled shirt trying to get handsy with you, to show his interest.

You tilted your head at the smaller male, "Isn't that your lover over there?" You asked pointing your finger at the elderly wealthy man. The smaller male slightly looked at you in shock at how you knew.

"I-I-Uhm...I mean..I do a little...'favors' for him to get money but...that's about it.." He giggled out trying to cling to you, as you were about to push him off, but your darling husband interrupted, and coldly glared at the small male.

"Oh-! My- If it isn't our host! M-Mr. Bateman!" The petite male suddenly retreated back slightly. Trying to look at them both bashfully.

Patrick's jaw clenched as he continued his cold stare and spoke, "This isn't some low budget club, that always indecent behavior, if you want to talk to peope you just met about your personal sexual affairs, I would simply this isn't the place for such crude acts." Patrick gave a ruthless smile as he finished.

The small male had tears in his eyes. As he ran to the elderly man, and cried, before pointing at Patrick, then earning a smack from his elderly lover for offending someone of just high status.

"I have lost my hosting attitude, I shall be retiring early," Patrick spoke jealously lacing his words as he stared at you.

"Well, I shall join you." You gently spoke, watching how his stiff body movements halted, you thought he was about to say something, but he stayed silent before continuing to walk.

<<>><<>>><<<>><<>>><<<>>>><<<<>>>><<<>>>><<<<>>>>><<<>>>><<>>>

"Sweetheart, are you almost done?" You called to Patrick from your shared bedroom, he was currently in the bathroom finshing up his shower.

Taking off your suit jacket, leaving you in your tie as you began to undo it, before watching as Patrick went out of the bathroom, completely naked other than the towel loosely wrapped around his private parts, as you saw his V line.

Not taking your eyes off the enticing sight, you slowly walked over to him as he looked in the full body mirror tilting his head slightly.

Walking behind him, you gently spray kisses on his shoulder, then up to his neck.

"What's wrong?" You purred out, noticing his utter silence of not wanting to speak to you.

"What's...wrong? Isn't it obvious.." He scowled out brushing you off of him.

Letting out a small hum, you pulled on his waist and buried your face in his neck, "No need to be jealous Mr.Bateman." teasingly you whispered in his ear, "I only have eyes for one man," You suddenly flipped him around pulling him closer and stared at his lips, "And that's my darling husband,~" You whispered before pulling him into a kiss, that he only slightly leaned into.

Pushing him to the large bed, you stripped off the rest of your clothes, that you clearly won't be needing.

Poncing on your dashing husband, you couldn't help but take his lips for yourself as you relentlessly kissed him.

Your hard cock rubbed against his cheeks, as you stretched your body over to grab the lube, and buttering it up all over your cock.

You slowly inserted your cock into his whole, of course with preparation as he was already used to your big cock ramming in and out of him.

Thrusting your entire length inside him, amusingly watched as he purposely held in his moan so you couldn't hear the sweet voice you longed to hear.

Rolling your hips forward excessively, slightly annoyed that he still decides to hold his moans of pleasure. Pulling Patrick closer so you could dig deeper inside his warm hole.

His hands trace along her back purposely scratching to leave marks. Your mind was consumed with pleasure as you impelled him relentlessly to even be bothered at his petty attempts to show you how jealous he was.

"Ah~--" Patrick accidentally let a moan escape he held onto his mouth as he looked right into your eyes, seeing how hungry you are for his sounds.

Patrick tore his gaze from you, holding onto his mouth tightly, knowing it was hard for him to keep his moans from your violating his hole to such an extent.

"No~-!" He slightly eeped out, noticing you changing both of your positions into his most favorite which was the mating press, he felt absolutely at your whim in this position, which made it nearly impossible for him to contain himself.

"Ah-Uha--Ah~" Patrick's hand finally tore from his mouth as his cock bounced with pleasure from the force and harshness of your thrusts inside his puckering hole sucking you in every time you re-enter.

Patrick wasn't at all surprised at how his hole made such lewd and unholy noises of ecstasy, after all, it was you, completely tearing it apart and using it to such extents of unexplainable pleasure.

"Mine~" You whispered in his ear, causing him to finally reach his limit as he splurged his cum everywhere, his tightening hole, engolfing you entirely so you could no longer exit.

Harshly drawing yourself out of him, you gave a few sloppy and loud thrusts, until Patrick forcefully held onto you closely, so you could release your seed deep inside him.

You let out a groan, your cock excessively twitching as you finally came, you stayed inside Patrick's hole, as he pulled you into a heated kiss.

#male reader #patrick bateman #patrick bateman x reader #x male reader #american psycho #patrick bateman x male reader #Slasher x reader #Slasher x male reader

[vivaladicamillo]

great now idk if i should edit rut ro or ponce next 😭😭 someone needs to take my minghags dvd away bc im having some THOUGHTS abt it

#someone stop me #i srsly am going crazy #ponce or rut ro THATS THE QUESTION #jackass #minghags #cky2k #cky4 #cky crew #cky x reader

[fandomwritingbit]

A Random Act of Kindness.

michael afton x afab reader

A/n: Wanted to do something for Mike because even though Will is my cup of tea, Mike is a hot chocolate that I’m sometimes partial to. Reader is the dominant one in interactions, Mike following her/your lead, enjoy!

No warnings, it’s fluff and bad flirting lmao but if you squint Michael is kinda obsessed

You know, he saw you every damn day.

Driving home from the pizzeria slap-bang in the middle of the rush-hour traffic, Michael would find himself watching you walking home in his rear-view, then in front as he remained stationary for well too bloody long. Sometimes he’d be there for ages queuing up, resisting the urge to be a knob and just pull a U-ie to get the heck out of dodge, like he’d seen a fair few do. But to be honest he liked watching you walk down the road. 

It's not just that you’re pretty and he was being a perv, it was just something about how you walked. Like you owned the street or some shit, confident as any teen in full underarmour, a proper billy big bollocks. 

He concluded after the first few times that you must work somewhere nearby. Some kind of salesperson, judging by the suit and overconfidence. The smug smile, too. One time he’d seen you cross the road during the stand-still, and some silly cock in front of him honked, it made no sense, you weren’t inconveniencing them in any way, but they slammed it on like you were trying to cross the M25. His own brow fell in confusion as he watched you stop right in front of their car, raising your hands into a shrug. A damn-near contagious smirk of disbelief on your face. You stood in front long enough for it to be awkward before walking off, still smirking away, and he liked you for that, he would never have the confidence to do that kind of thing.

~ 

Now was no different. Oh except for the rain, which was mental, pelting hard against his window. He’d just missed it, luckily, so his umbrella sat in the footwell dry as a bone. But longer into his drive, it picked up bad. As such, he didn’t expect to see you walking. 

When he saw you, wet-through with your air matted to your skin, your blazer limp with wet, he laughed. God, you poor thing, it looked bloody brutal. Still managing to walk well directly against the pelting rain, he did notice that you were walking with a pressed-lipped smile, clearly amused at your own sorry state. But as he watched you gain on him, he glanced at the umbrella on the floor. He didn’t need it, but then again, neither did you. It was much too late.  

Yet as you get closer to his vehicle, the traffic remains completely rooted which causes him to feel an increasing itch to shout you over. When you finally caught his position, the urge was overwhelming. He wanted to help, be your knight in shining armour, and all that... Well, to be honest, he just wanted to talk to you, you're almost a celebrity to him.

You were so distracted trying to keep the rain out of your eyes and your hair from engulfing your face, that the car window in front of you rolling down was nothing. As was the hand jammed out trying to wave at you, completely missed. It was only when the man inside the vehicle called out that you looked to the side, a certain gesture already crossing your mind. For fuck’s sake, it was Baltic out and you're wet through, talking to some ponce wasn't an attractive thought.

But when he calls out again, you hiss a plethora of insults as you walk over to his window, you’d better recognise him or some shit, if you don’t he’ll have hell to pay. Who the fuck would cat call in this type of weather? 

You bend at the waist to peer inside the car, brows instantly narrowing when you realise that his guy is a stranger. 

He’s about to speak but you get there first, “Do I know you?” Your tone is on the line between rude and enquiring, largely because you’re still being pelted by the rain. 

 “No. Look sorry, you look tortured. Can I give you my umbrella?” It takes him a bit too long to get the words out, nervous to be actually talking to you. When he finishes the question and gestures to the item on the passenger-side floor, you straight up laugh.

“I think it’s a bit late for that.” you chuckle, lifting your arms to demonstrate how the water ran off you. 

Man, he felt like an idiot, he knew you’d say that but couldn’t help but ask, now he looks damned stupid. “Yeah, sorry. I just thought, I’d offer...” he pauses, internally debating whether to say the next bit, deciding to go for it to kill the awkward silence. “I’d happily give you a lift but you’d be pretty stupid to get in my car- not because I’m dangerous or anything! I-”

He stops talking when you continue laughing, more than amused by his rambling, a small respite in this damned weather. Honestly, who was this guy? He’s clearly shy as hell, can’t even meet your eye without blushing. 

“I got what you meant and no, I wouldn’t get in a stranger’s car. But... I think it was nice of you to offer. Provided you don’t want to murder me.” He manages a self-deprecating smile, thank God you were being so nice to him. “Still, looking at this traffic, I’ll probably get home before you.” 

He sighs, still looking close to devastated. “Sorry to stop you, I didn’t mean to waste your time.” 

“Weirdly, I’m okay with it.” You say, grinning with disbelief, you were ready to give him a mouthful a few moments ago, but seeing how embarrassed he looked was kind of cute, it clearly took all his bollocks and then some to shout you over… To be fair this fella was cute in general, with his messy hair and pretty blue eyes. “Well, wouldn’t want to miss your light. See you uh... Mike” 

When you said his name butterflies invaded his stomach, and it took him a minute to figure out how you knew it, only revealed by the ducking of your head to read his name tag. “Yeah uh, see you...” he went silent hoping you would fill in the blank and tell him your name, he’d just love to put a name to your celebrity. 

Lifting your lapel slightly, you let him read your own name tag and he smiles. A big genuine smile that makes you drop your cock-sure smirk for one of your own. He is bloody cute.

~

Since your meet-cute, Michael found himself doubly looking for you every evening when he drove home from work, each time practically bouncing in his seat. No longer was it solely him admiring your form and swagger. Now you reciprocated, picking his licence plate out among the stationary vehicles to give him a wave or come over for a, albeit brief, chat. 

He couldn’t quite believe it, if he told his friends he would be met with giggling, it was nothing really, just an acquaintanceship with someone, but to him it was something special. And he hoped it was for you as well.

~ 

“Hey, y/n!” he called out, a little over a week later, already involuntarily smiling before you came over to his window. He waited till you were properly in ear shot before continuing. “You alright?” 

You oblige him absolutely beaming, you bend to look into the car, “I, Mike, am absolutely brilliant. Yourself?” 

He chuckles, “Yeah okay, clearly not in as good a mood as you. Something good happened?” 

“Just landed a huge account at work.” You jump to tell him, pride very evident, “I can’t wait to go back to my flat and tell the empty rooms all about it.” You giggle. 

Grinning, he congratulates you, trying to keep the heat from his cheeks, "Not going out to celebrate?” 

“Not unless you’re offering.” You look at him through your eyelashes and he swears that if you keep your gaze like that his heart was going to jump out of his chest. “...Cos I would say yes, you know.” 

Sweet lord, he has to work to keep his excitement buried. You had just, very cockily, asked him out. Like out out. To have a drink. With you. He tries not to pounce all over his answer. “Yeah, I mean, yes. I’m free, if you want to go for a drink or something?” 

You let yourself smile again as he stammered over his words. “Lovely... So are we going now? Cos you’ll have to unlock your door to let me in.” His eyes go wide a little as he rushes to press the button that would do as you asked, still reeling from excitement as you open his car door. 

“...We’ll uh be waiting ages to get out of this street, what with the rush hour.” 

“Doesn’t matter, gives us a chance to get to know each other properly.” You speak as you fasten your seatbelt, placing your briefcase in the footwell. Then you turn to your date, “Plus if it wasn’t for the traffic I wouldn’t have met you, can’t complain too much.”

#fnaf #michael afton x reader #michael afton x you #afab reader #fnaf michael afton

[collinrobinsonsglasses]

Too Soft to be a Pirate

Izzy Hands x Reader (GN)

Chapter 5 of a series.

Summary: Following the events of season 1 episode 5 of Our Flag Means Death. The reader gets injured during the raid and Izzy tends to their wounds.

Warnings: Lots of cursing, general pirate raid injuries, and descriptions of a fractured wrist. (I don't think it's too bad, but just in case)

{Masterlist}

{Previous Chapter}

{Next Chapter}

Chapter 5: The Best Revenge is Dressing Well 

Izzy found himself grappling with a crew of seemingly inept fucks aboard the Revenge. Day after day, they lazed about the ship, showing a remarkable aversion to anything resembling work. The situation proved infuriating for Izzy, but he could tolerate Bonnet’s crew if it meant he would one day captain the Queen Anne’s Revenge. 

Blackbeard spent most of his time with the self-proclaimed “Gentleman Pirate”, a mere ponce in Izzy’s eyes. Blackbeard was imparting the ways of the pirate life to the aspiring captain. Izzy couldn’t help but anticipate the day when Blackbeard would burn that little twat’s face off. 

Izzy paced the main deck, his steps measured and purposeful as he observed the assorted members of Bonnet’s crew. Blackbeard planned for a raid on a merchant vessel later in the afternoon and the buzz of anticipation filled the air. The atmosphere onboard hinted at a sense of calm before the storm, as most of the crew indulged in a leisurely morning, preparing for the impending fight. 

Guided by the melody of a lute and an enchanting voice, Izzy traced the source of the sound. Each step up the wooden stairs toward the quarter deck carried him closer to the origin of the music that had captured his senses. He spotted you seated cross-legged on the poop deck, your gaze fixed upward at Frenchie as he skillfully strummed the lute. Your voice blended effortlessly with his playing, and you seemed at peace and completely absorbed in the music. 

A surge of jealousy gripped Izzy as he witnessed the unfolding scene before him. Swiftly suppressing the emotion, he turned away, retreating back to the main deck, no longer willing to witness the connection between you and Frenchie. Since the night you two shared a kiss, you had deliberately kept your distance from Izzy. He sensed your embarrassment about the shared moment, and a part of him felt a sense of relief that you were steering clear of him. Izzy understood the importance of staying focused on the plan and, more specifically, on Edward. 

Your request for sword lessons from Izzy had stopped, a fact that he couldn’t help but notice. Ivan had seamlessly stepped into the role of your instructor. Izzy observed you honing your knife skills under Jim’s guidance. Credit where it was due, Izzy couldn’t deny that Jim was the only competent pirate aboard this ship. 

Your magnetic presence naturally drew Bonnet’s crew toward you, seeking your company, and, much to Izzy’s annoyance, receiving your warm smiles. You spent the last few days hiding away in the kitchen helping Roach with meals. Your whispered conversations with Lucius didn’t escape Izzy’s keen eyes. It grated on him to witness these interactions. You, above all, shouldn’t be forming attachments to these idiots, as you were well aware that this arrangement was temporary. 

Izzy observed Blackbeard and Stede Bonnet emerging from the captain’s quarters, exchanging grins. A grimace crept across Izzy’s face as he witnessed the scene. Though he understood it was a strategic move, he couldn’t fathom why Blackbeard would willingly spend any time with that man. 

“What’s it looking like, Iz?” Blackbeard asked, disrupting Izzy’s train of thought. 

“We’re approaching a medium-sized merchant vessel, cap’n, and it appears to have a distinct lack of cannons” Izzy replied with stoic composure. 

“Agh, that’s great news, Izzy!” Blackbeard exclaimed, his eyes alight with excitement as he grasped Stede’s shoulder. “Your first real raid, mate,” Blackbeard added, directing his words to Stede with a twinkle in his eyes. 

“Ah, indeed,” Stede replied with a goofy grin, attempting to conceal the fear behind his eyes. “I’m quite looking forward to it.” 

Izzy rolled his eyes at the exchange and proceeded to rally the crew for the impending raid. 

⚓⚓⚓⚓⚓⚓⚓

The sound of gunfire echoed through the air as chaos unfurled around you. Blackbeard’s crew, a group of seasoned pirates, fought fiercely, and you navigated well enough to keep yourself alive. While you had made improvements through the lessons imparted by Izzy and Ivan, the truth remained that you were still a far cry from being an expert with a blade. 

If you were being honest with yourself, you currently lacked the energy for a fight. The idea of being curled up in your hammock with one of Stede Bonnet’s books held far more appeal. The recent emotional turmoil with Izzy had taken a toll on your mind, leaving you feeling drained. Engaging in mundane tasks, like helping Roach in the kitchen or handling menial ship duties, felt far more manageable. The realization of your exhaustion only truly set in when you found yourself in the middle of the raid. 

Your attention snapped back into focus as Fang ruthlessly smashed a man’s head against some wooden crates. The brutality of the scene shook you, briefly waking you from your mental fatigue. Your focus was swiftly redirected to a man engulfed in flames, leaping off the boat - a spectacle orchestrated by Ivan. 

Suddenly, the wind was knocked from your stomach as a body collided with you, forcing you to crumple onto the ground. The impact sent your sword flying from your right hand, and instinctively, you reached out with the other, desperately attempting to break your fall. A sharp pain emanated from your left wrist upon hitting the ground. Standing above you, a man brandished his sword, the blade menacingly aimed toward your chest. 

You closed your eyes, bracing for the inevitable strike, but instead the air filled with commotion around you. Opening your eyes, you witnessed Izzy delivering a resounding punch to the man’s face. The first mate called out to Fang, and in the blink of an eye, the assailant who had knocked you down was being hurtled across the deck, soaring over the heads of Lucius and Stede. Swiftly sitting up, you maneuvered against the ship’s wall, finding refuge, while Izzy positioned himself in front of you, brandishing his sword in a protective stance. 

As the fight gradually ended, the rest of the crew corralled the survivors of the raid. You rose to your feet, cautiously retrieving your sword while hiding your injured wrist behind your back. When Izzy turned to face you, the simmering anger in his eyes was unmistakable. 

“That was fucking sloppy,” Izzy hissed at you. “I shouldn't have to worry about you getting gutted during a simple raid. Next time, you’ll be watching with the rest of the twattys who aren’t fit to be pirates.” 

You fixed your gaze on Izzy, choosing not to offer a response. 

“Fuck off. Go help with the looting”, he grumbled, acknowledging your silence. 

Swiftly, you made your way to join Frenchie, eager to escape further scolding from Izzy. Deep down, you recognized the truth in his words; your focus should have been sharper during the fight. The persistent dull pain radiating from your wrist served as a reminder of that. You opted to keep the injury to yourself. You would rather endure the pain in silence, hoping it would subside with time, than face any additional reasons for reprimand. 

You and Frenchie sifted through the boxes in search of anything valuable. Mindful of your injured left hand, you relied solely on your right, keeping the hurt arm cradled close to your stomach. Having collected everything you deemed valuable, you and Frenchie made your way back to the Revenge. 

As the day progressed, you found yourself seated below deck with Lucius and Pete, chatting about mundane topics. Suddenly, Frenchie made his entrance, adorned in a fine black suit and cradling his lute. 

“Frenchie!” you exclaimed, “You clean up well!” 

“Why, thank you,” Frenchie responded with a theatrical bow. “I’m planning to wear it to a fancy party the captains want to attend.” 

“What kind of party?” Black Pete inquired, his curiosity tinged with a hint of fear of missing out on something fun. 

“Eh, just one with a bunch of hoity-toity people,” Frenchie responded, his tone less than impressed. 

“Yeah, I’ll pass on that,” Black Pete replied. 

“I wonder if there’s going to be dancing,” Lucius mused playfully, lifting his eyebrows. “Ugh, I miss dancing.” 

Frenchie sat down next to you on a crate and began playing a slow, melodic tune on his lute, a common occurrence aboard the ship. The music prompted Lucius to rise from his seat, extending his hand toward you with raised eyebrows. 

“My wrist is still hurting from the raid this morning,” you responded, politely declining Lucius’ request. Suddenly, a mischievous thought crossed your mind, and you gave Lucius a sly smile.

During your time on The Revenge, Lucius had become quite talkative with you. You suspected it was because, among the crew, you were one of the less intimidating pirates. In the last few days, he had been openly expressing his crush on Black Pete to you. Now, you made a decision that you were going to help him out. 

“I bet Black Pete would make a pretty good dance partner,” you said, casting a glance toward him. “Even if he hasn’t danced before, he picks things up way faster than anyone I’ve ever met.” 

“I haven’t danced before,” Black Pete responded hesitantly, before regaining his normal confidence. “But you’re right. I am an exceptionally fast learner.” 

“Well, lucky for you, I’m also an exceptional teacher,” Lucius responded flirtatiously, placing his hands on Black Pete’s shoulders. 

As you watched Lucius and Black Pete dance you couldn’t help but notice a subtle spark igniting between the two. After a while, you and Frenchie made your way back to the deck, as he prepared to depart from the party, leaving Lucius and Black Pete alone to their own devices. 

As you ascended to the deck, you noticed Blackbeard and Izzy engaged in conversation on the Quarterdeck. Their discussion seemed intense, with the low rumble of their voices carrying over the sounds of the ship. Abruptly, Izzy stomped off, his expression etched with the familiar anger that seemed to cling to him like a shadow. 

Soon after Izzy’s departure, you found yourself in the vacant spot next t0 Blackbeard on the Quarterdeck. Edward was in a beautiful purple suit, adorned with two bows neatly tied into his beard. His typically wild and flowing hair was not fashioned into a tidy bun at the back of his head. 

“Izzy said I look like a ponce,” Blackbeard huffed, a touch of vulnerability in his tone. “Do I look ponce?” he asked, turning to you with genuine concern in his eyes. 

“You look handsome,” you replied with a warm smile, reaching up to gently straighten one of the bows in his beard. It struck you that this was the first time you had ever seen your captain look nervous. It made sense; this was uncharted territory for him. “Stede will look out for you,” you assured Blackbeard, offering a reassuring nod. 

Blackbeard acknowledged your words with a coy smile. 

The party set off to the celebration, and life on the ship resumed its normal course. 

⚓⚓⚓⚓⚓⚓⚓

Izzy Hands seethed with fury as he found himself left alone with Bonnet’s useless crew while Blackbeard attended some pointless party. At least there was a small victory in the fact that he was having Lucius scrape all the barnacles off the ship. Izzy’s satisfaction deepened at the thought that Lucius was finally facing the consequences for lying around doing fuck-all day after day. The punishment was fitting, and long overdue. 

“How’s our barnacle project coming?” Izzy sneered, his gaze scanning over the edge of the ship, expecting to find Lucius. 

A wave of surprise and frustration washed over Izzy as he spotted you sitting on the bench, scraping barnacles instead of Lucius. He noticed your face tightening in response to the sound of his voice, but you continued your work, seeming determined to stay focused despite his interruption. 

“I’m gonna kill that twat,” Izzy snapped, frustration boiling over. “What the fuck are you doing?” he demanded, his tone sharp and accusing. 

“Scraping barnacles, sir,” you responded in a flat tone, maintaining a stoic demeanor despite the tension in the air. 

Izzy rolled his eyes before continuing, “Where are Fang and Lucius?” he inquired, a hint of impatience coloring his tone. 

“They mentioned having something important to do, so I offered to finish scraping the barnacles,” you said with nonchalant shrug. 

“Why the fuck would you do that?” Izzy demanded.

Izzy noticed you pause your barnacle-scraping, it seemed like you were taking a moment to genuinely consider his question. “It’s probably because I’m a chronic people-pleaser. I know you wanted this done, and I’m just trying to keep the peace,” you replied, your words carrying a touch of honesty. 

Izzy started pulling the bench back up towards the deck until you were face to face with him. “You’d just blindly do something, because someone asked you to?” Izzy asked condescendingly. 

“Most likely,” you responded with a shrug. 

“What if I asked you to jump off the crow’s nest? Would you do that?” Izzy inquired his tone carrying a note of exhaustion. 

“I would probably do anything you asked me to, Izzy, because I don’t like when you’re pissed at me,” you responded, avoiding direct eye contact as you looked off to the side. 

“You would die,” Izzy responded flatly. 

“Well if that turned out to be the case, at least you wouldn’t be able to yell at me,” you

 replied, pursing your lips together, a hint of bitterness lacing your words. 

Izzy observed you carefully standing up off the stool and onto the deck, his gaze unwavering. 

“Well, that twat owes you an apology for making you do his work,” Izzy stated with a gruff tone, trying to return to the situation at hand. 

“That’s not really necessary because I’m not upset. I offered to do it,” you replied quietly. 

Izzy rolled his eyes once more, expressing his exhaustion with the situation. Frustrated that Lucius had taken advantage of your kindness, he moved to grab your wrist to lead you in search of Fang and Lucius. However, a sharp hiss escaping your mouth caught his attention. Concern furrowed his brow, and he immediately released your arm, his eyes scanning your face as you attempted to hide a wince. 

“Let me see your wrist,” Izzy demanded in a gentle tone, a surge of concern coursing through him. 

You lifted up your arm, and Izzy carefully examined your wrist. As he moved your sleeve back, the sight that met his eyes confirmed his suspicions. The area around the wrist showed signs of distress – visible swelling, a blooming bruise coloring the skin, and a subtle misalignment that hinted at a potential fracture. Tender to the touch, your wince as he inspected it spoke volumes about the pain you were experiencing. 

Izzy looked up towards your eyes, and the fear he saw there softened his expression. “This was from the raid this morning?” Izzy asked, although he already knew the answer. 

You nodded slowly in confirmation. 

“Why didn’t you tell anyone?” he pressed. 

“I didn’t want to bother anyone. I just hoped it would get better,” you responded, a tinge of embarrassment coloring your words. 

“Go wait for me in my cabin. We’re going to get that sorted. I just need to find those two lazy idiots first,” Izzy said softly, a mixture of concern and determination in his voice. 

As he watched you walk away, gently cradling your left wrist against your chest, a wave of guilt washed over Izzy. He should have made sure that you weren’t injured after the raid. When he saw that man rushing into you, a surge of rage had flung him into protection mode. After the fight, he directed that rage toward you, but now, seeing you hurt, he realized he was really just angry at himself for allowing you to be in that position in the first place. The weight of responsibility settled heavily on Izzy’s shoulders as he set off to find Fang and Lucius, a resolve burning in his eyes to make things right with you. 

⚓⚓⚓⚓⚓⚓⚓

Entering Izzy’s room, you cast a curious glance around, hoping to glean any more insight into the man who had been occupying your thoughts for the last year. As expected, Izzy’s room was simple and functional- a reflection of his practical nature. A bed, a desk, a chair, and a chest constituted the entirety of his furnishings. 

Standing awkwardly for a while, you felt a sense of unwelcome intrusion in his personal space before finally opting to sit on his chair. Time seemed to stretch on as you waited for Izzy, and your anxiety began to grow. This was the first time you would be alone with Izzy since the kiss, and a sense of uncertainty lingered in your mind. You weren’t sure how to act around him anymore. 

Eventually, Izzy stomped into his room, his frustration clear as he ranted to himself about Lucius. Once Izzy’s eyes met yours, his demeanor softened, and concern once again painted itself across his face. Setting down a bowl filled with a liquid that carried the distinct scent of vinegar, he retrieved bandages from the chest in his room.

“Sit on my bed. I’m going to use the chair,” he commanded softly, the concern in his voice blending with a touch of authority. 

You followed his command, swiftly taking a seat on the edge of the bed. You could feel your heart racing in your chest, mirroring the night you two shared a kiss. The rapid beat provided a welcome distraction from the pain throbbing in your wrist. 

Izzy gently reached for your non-injured hand, his fingers delicately tracing along the bones of your wrist. A flush crept onto your face at his touch, though you hoped he wouldn’t notice the subtle reaction. His weathered and calloused fingers possessed a surprising gentleness as they moved across your arm. 

Izzy paused, his gaze lifting to meet yours. “I need to feel your injured wrist now to compare the positioning of the bones. It’ll help me see what the damage is,” he explained, his voice carrying a gentle but resolute undertone. “It’s going to fucking hurt.” he warned you. 

You nodded in understanding as Izzy carefully lifted your injured wrist. The pain that surged through your arm was excruciating, evident in the wince that danced across your features. You could see a mirror expression of discomfort on Izzy’s face, the idea that his touch was causing you pain weighing heavily on him. His fingers continued their methodical exploration, seeking to understand the extent of your injury. 

A wave of dizziness washed over you, and the thud of your heart echoed loudly in your ears. The room blurred momentarily as if reality itself was swaying, and you gripped the edge of the bed, attempting to anchor yourself amidst the disorienting feeling. Suddenly, a gentle hand on your face snapped you back to reality. 

“Little mouse,” Izzy whispered, lifting your chin so that your eyes met his. “You need to breathe.” 

Following Izzy’s instruction, you took slow, deliberate breaths, the world gradually coming back into plain view. The concern in Izzy’s eyes remained, a silent reassurance that you were not alone in this moment of vulnerability. 

“You have a simple fracture. I need to set it and bandage it. Then you should be okay, as long as you refrain from being knocked over,” Izzy explained. Izzy grabbed your uninjured hand, gently placing it on his knee with a stern expression. “I don’t need you passing out on me, so when it hurts, you can squeeze my knee. And don’t stop breathing again,” he instructed. 

Izzy efficiently set your wrist back into place, and you seized the opportunity to squeeze his knee tightly as the pain reached its boiling point. The intensity gradually subsided as Izzy skillfully maneuvered your bone into the correct position. Izzy proceeded to dip the bandages into the liquid he had brought with him, tightly starting to wrap them around your injured wrist. 

A silence settled in as Izzy worked diligently on wrapping your wrist. Feeling a tinge of discomfort, you decided to look away, diverting your gaze to anything else in the room, attempting to avoid the intimacy of the situation. Suddenly, a sensation of being watched prompted you to turn, and you found Izzy peering up at you. 

“I shouldn’t have yelled at you this morning,” Izzy stated matter-of-factly. “You still fight better than most of the twats on this ship.” The admission held a rare sincerity. 

“You were right though. I was distracted,” you responded gently, a slight frown gracing your features. You noticed Izzy staring at you a little longer, but you looked back down feeling too vulnerable. 

Izzy placed his hand on your shoulder, beginning to speak again. “Okay. New rules. Number one: you are no longer going to offer to do anyone’s chores for them, especially with a fractured wrist.” The firmness in his voice conveyed a sense of protective authority. 

“Number two,” he continued, “If you ever get hurt again, you will come to me immediately. Even if you get a single splinter, I expect to fucking hear about it.” 

You nodded in agreement. “Thank you, Izzy,” you said, giving his knee one last squeeze and offering a soft smile. 

“Now, fuck off,” Izzy said, his tone a stark contrast to the morning’s sternness. There was a hint of endearment in his tone. 

You took Izzy’s command seriously and did indeed fuck off, finding Lucius engaged in conversation with Black Pete and Fang on the deck. 

“Lucius, what have you been doing today?” you asked curiously, joining them. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen Izzy that angry.” 

“I drew Fang naked,” Lucius said, raising his eyebrows with a smirk. “Listen, that angry little sexually repressed man just needs to get laid. Otherwise, I feel like he’s going to pop.” 

Lucius looked at you before continuing, a mischievous glint in his eyes. "Unlucky for him, only someone crazy would be attracted to that." 

You looked over to Fang and noticed his guilty expression. "Fang, you didn't," you whined. 

"Oh yes. Fang spilled your dirty little secret," Lucius giggled. "I do think you're crazy for liking that man, but we all have a type, I guess." Lucius finished, winking at Black Pete. 

You weren't really upset with Fang. You knew most people would notice eventually with how obvious your feelings showed. You looked down at your wrapped wrist, pondering Lucius's statement. You didn't think you were crazy at all. As a matter of fact, you thought it was crazy that the rest of the crew didn't see Izzy the way you did. He was rough on the outside, but deep down, he was one of the kindest people you had ever met.

Taglist: @5tud10-54r4h @locamoka-blog @promptly-mercy

{Next Chapter}

#izzy hands x reader #ofmd #ofmd x reader #ofmd fanfic #izzy hands #our flag means death #too soft to be a pirate

[phixiesworld]

Being Angelica's and Jack's daughter would include:

Pairing: mother! Angelica x reader, Jack Sparrow x reader (PLATONIC)

Request: from @jamesnorringtonscoat "Hi i just found your blog from POTC imagines and ect. I was wondering if i could request heacanons for being Angelica Teach's daughter? Maybe Jack is the father?? If not thats totally fine have a great day!"

Note: sorry, I couldn't tag you for some reason. it got a bit out of my hands and got quite long, I hope you still like it tho! Also, this is my first time writing Headcanons, so if I did it completely wrong or something, you can just tell me and I'll start over :) sorry for taking so long!

(not my gif)

-You and Angelica, your mother were very close

-She trusted you enough to bring you along on all her adventures

-when your mother found her dad, she naturally brought you along on his ship

-you and Blackbeard got quite close as well

-you never knew who your father was, untill Angelica came back on the ship with the infamous pirate captain, Jack Sparrow

-She told you while he was still unconscious

-you hadn't talked to Jack when he woke up because you were afraid he wouldn't like you

-when you reached white cap bay, both Blackbeard and Angelica told you to stay on the ship, telling you it was safe there

-but when the mermaids came on board they were proven wrong

-they tried attacking you but you grabbed your sword and fended them of

-although you killed most of them, you knew they were gonna need a mermaid who would still be alive

-before the mermaids that were still alive could get away, you grabbed a rope and bounded one of them in it

-when everyone came back on board without having caught a mermaid, you were happy that you kept the mermaid, which you had already put in the glass coffin like box with water

-let's just say everyone was surprised you could get a mermaid while they couldn't

-when you all reached the island which was told held both the fountain and ponce de leons ship, they told you to stay on the ship once again

-although this time you didn't listen and went with them

-when you all reached a valley like river, you got a good scare

-since Blackbeard almost shot your mother in the face

-you suggested to jump first and go with Jack, seeing that your pretty good at navigating and protecting yourself

-Angelica hesitantly approved while Blackbeard didn't want you going because he didn't trust Sparrow

-but since he had only known you for a few weeks, maybe months, it wasn't his choice to make

-because Jack was scared for his life, you jumped in first, hitting the water with a big splash

-you and Jack had gotten to talk while searching for ponce de Leon's ship and while you'd never admit it face to face, you liked Jack's goofiness

-when you two finnaly found the ship, Jack told you to stay, telling you something felt a bit off

-when he came back he wasn't alone, having brought back Barbossa, he seemed nice enough but since he was working for the king you were weary of him

-you asked Jack what happend in there and why he didn't bring the chalices

-Jack told you that the Spanish had them, so off you were to the camp of the Spanish

-when you arrived there you once again was told to lay back, but this time you didn't listen and went in front of Jack and Barbossa

-before they could get the change to get the chalices, you were already on the table and got them one by one, and quickly ran back

-in the end they caught you, Jack and Barbossa and tied you to a pair of trees

-you and Jack were bound together

-when you and the other were finnaly free, you and Jack went back to find your mom and granddad

-and when you found them Angelica sighed in relief, seeing that you are safe

-on the way back you found out that Jack had gotten the chalices anyway and tied them to a pig, which a guy called Gibbs was now holding on to

-you've been walking for quite a while now and was complaining, Blackbeard offered to let someone from his crew carry you, and although it was a tempting offer, you didn't want any of the crew carry you, plus you didn't fully trust them

-Blackbeard wasnt really sure if Jack was going the right way since you've practically crossed the whole island somewhat

-Then you all suddenly stopped, walking to the front you saw that Jack was looking at a raindrop that went up instead of down

-When you got to the end of the cave Jack found, while losing a crewmember, sadly, you stared at Jack, unimpressed

-you all stared weirdly at Jack before he actually found the entrance

-when you all had entered there was a fight, Angelica holding you behind her, protecting you

-she knew you could protect yourself but she didn't want to see you hurt in the slightest way

-when the battle was over, the Spanish having left and a few bodies scattered trought out the cave, both your mom and granddad had managed to get a poisoning cut

-you knew that one of them would die in these few days but you could never be prepared enough

-Angelica had decided she would "die" for her father, leaving you behind, Jack had other plans

-jack handed the two the cups and they both drank

-"Take care of our daughter when I die Jack.."

-Jack looked between you and Angelica, seeming very very confused

-then it got clear that Jack had "gotten confused in which cup he put the tear and which not" seeming that suddenly water consumed Blackbeard, taking his life

-you just stared wide eyed at the now falling bones of what used to be your grandfather

-after everything that happened in that cave, your mother gave you a big hug

-in the end Jack brought you and Angelica to a random port, leaving you there, not before promising to visit once he gets his beloved Pearl back

-both you and Angelica begging to take you two with him, not wanting to be stranded on some island

-jack gave a sympathic look before rowing away

#incorrect potc quotes #pirate #pirates of the caribbean #potc #potc fanart #potc x reader #potc1 #jack sparrow x reader #jack sparrow imagine #jack sparrow #angelica teach #Angelica teach x daughter reader

[papersong]

Chicago: Chapter 1

Kyojuro Rengoku x Reader Reader is a female demon(?) from Japan. Teen rating for now.

..........

You've traveled the world from Heian Japan to Renaissance Italy. By the time the 1920's find you in America, you think you've seen it all. Then, the dead man appears in your living room with hair like fire and a hole in his stomach, his blood ruining your favorite carpet, and you're not so sure of anything anymore.

..........

After the Mugen Train Arc, Rengoku Kyojuro wakes up halfway across the world in Prohibition Chicago, where you're a fast-drivin', gun-totin' bootlegger.

You're also one-thousand-something, and the flame Hashira brings uncomfortable reminders about the start of your immortality as a medical testing slave in 12th century Japan. Maybe it's time to reconsider the country you've sworn you'll never return to. Read on AO3

A thousand years ago, you crawled out from your grave in Heian-Kyo. You followed your all-consuming hunger into a fresh grave, popped the lid off the coffin, and devoured the corpse like slightly stale sardines from a can. The flavor wasn't good or terrible, just like the discarded preserved fish you remember from scavenging trash with the other medical nuhi last fall. You take another bite. Then, your brain catches up with your stomach.

You stare at the half-eaten face of the human being in your claws. You taste iron on your lips. When you finish spitting between screams, you run. You stowaway on a ship from Japan to Goryeo. You make enough money to charter your own vessel to Great Yuan, where you spend a century trading the silk road from Dadu to Istanbul, wandering the desert where no human can live to tempt you. As your falcon delivers the news of the Red Turbans driving out the Mongols to your sheephair tent, you find the blue spiderlily blooming from the desert sands of Garagum.

You split three centuries between the desert, the Universities of Cambridge and Oxford, and La Sorbonne. In 1492, Christopher Columbus sailed the ocean blue, and you perfected your master's medicine in your Parisian greenhouse. As Ponce de Leon sought the Fountain of Youth, you stepped into the sun for the first time in three centuries, your visage unchanged since the doctor first injected you with the medicine he would later use on Muzan Kibutsuji. 

At the turn of the 15th century, you learned to paint and sculpt from Da Vinci and Michelangelo. In the 16th century, you sat in the Globe's Pit to watch Shakespeare's plays premiere. In the 17th century, you debated Rousseau and Voltaire in Madame de Pompadour's salons. After Europe became saturated with the memories of those you've loved and lost, you venture to the New World.

Over the millennium, you've traveled the world from Heian Japan to Renaissance Italy. By the time the 1920's find you in America, you think you've seen it all. Then, the dead man appears in your living room with hair like fire and a hole in his stomach. His blood ruins your favorite carpet, and you're not sure you know anything anymore.

You're trying to drag the body to the garden when you feel his chest stutter with the intake of breath. He's alive. Without thinking, you break the skin of your right wrist with your left nail. You press the blood to his lips.

It's been decades since you last turned a human. You've forgotten how much the process takes from you. Kyojuro's body hungers for you more than you had hungered for blood when you'd first woken. His wound needs your blood to rebuild his body. You're drained until you collapse on his chest, your last thought of his comforting warmth, like the first touch of sunlight on your skin two centuries ago.

..........

You wake in the middle of the night. Your eyes adjust. You reorient yourself in the darkness.

Your skin's sticky with sweat and blood. There's a man under you. He runs hot. You prop yourself up on his chest and scoot away. You may dress like a flapper and run gin, but you're no floozy.

The parlor's ruined with blood. Your maids come on Tuesdays. You're a bootlegger, not a gangster. The girls'll get scared by the blood, so you have to clean overnight.

Your maids won't disturb the unconscious man if you tell them you've a guest sleeping in, so you carry him to a guestroom. He's no longer bleeding. His wounds have closed, so you slash up his ruined shirt and clean him with it before tossing the clothes in the fire.

The white "destroy" character stands against the black fabric before it all burns. You wonder what the man's destroying and what nearly destroyed him, but you figure you'll ask when he wakes.

When you turn back from the fireplace, you're startled to see a pair of eyes staring at you, so bright they could be glowing in the dark.

"Kawaī!" Your unexpected guest shouts with enough volume to shake the room before rolling over and falling back asleep. You blink. The room rumbles with his snores.

While he sleeps, you break his outburst into syllables. You haven't been to Japan since you left, so you must reconcile his modern accent with your Heian Japanese. Ka-wa...

Oh. You cover your mouth, laughing softly. He thinks you're pretty. You're far too old to flush like a schoolgirl with a handsome youth, but he thinks you're pretty.

..........

You drag the rug to a bathroom with a tub. As you run cold water over the hand-woven silk, you remember when you commissioned your carpet in Kankorum: the noise of the open air bazaar, the clink of gold coins in your gloved hands, the warmth of the sun at your back. You no longer remember the year, except that it was before you could walk in sunlight. You can't remember the weaver, except you recall she was a young woman with callouses on her hands and a twist in her spine, aged beyond her years by backbreaking labor at the loom.

When you open your eyes, you're back in Chicago, the cicadas calling into the night, your unexpected guest snoring softly next door. You prop yourself up with your wet hands on the marble tile, listening to the night for a moment before you drain the first tub of bloodied water, keeping the tap on while you run downstairs. After wiping the floor clean, you drain the tub a second time as you bleach the floor under the carpet.

The carpet's soaking in a third tub of water by the time you start the shower, tossing your clothes aside to be burnt with the dirty rags. You scratch the blood out of your hair, wiping the mirror free of condensation every wash to check your reflection. Once your hair's finally clean, you start on the blood covering your skin. If you're quick enough, you might still be able to catch an hour of sleep before sunrise.

..........

Kyojuro senses a demon. It's right next to him. He slams open—whoops, wrong door. That's a closet. He tries again, leaving the bedroom for a tall, western-style hallway. 

This isn't the Butterfly Estate. When'd he get moved to a western mansion? He'll figure that later.

Now, he follows the sound of water and the demonic presence. He stops at a shut door. The knob doesn't budge—locked. He kicks down the door, wood splintering under his feet. There, behind the curtain—

"Demon!" 

Kyojuro tears away the shower curtain. His slayer instincts tell him to kill. The being before him has taken thousands of human lives. Death weighs down the air like—

Wait. Is that death, or the moisture in the shower? Kyojuro doesn't sense Blood Demon Arts, illusions, or killing intent. He's not seeing any demons, either, just a human-looking girl with—

Stop. Back up.

Locked door. Running water. Shower. Girl. 

All the blood in Kyojuro's body rushes up into his face. He goes redder than the tips of his hair. You slam his head into the shower wall.

............

"I am sorry! I will take responsibility!"

In your thousand years, you've had your share of surprises, from stepping onto the New World for the first time, to watching man taking flight, to—whatever this is.

You're in a bathrobe, thank the Lord. The ginger-blond—Samurai? Bushi?—kneels in your garden. You don't know what happened in the shower, but it felt like a switch flipping. One moment, he was ready to murder you. Now, he looks ready to commit seppuku, kneeling on your bathroom floor, head bowed, hands on his knees while the sky starts to blue with morning. 

"Please stand."

"Yes!" he springs to his feet. You jump back at the sudden movement. Kyojuro stills. You can't tell if he's regarding you like a small animal about to startle, or a predator ready to spring. Maybe both?

"What are you!" he demands. "You have a demon's presence. You feel like death! But it's old, like you haven't eaten a human in years—"

"What is—" you try to speak up, but the man talks over you. He comments on everything, from the state of your bathroom (The floor is cold!) to the scenery outside (The flowers are blooming!) to his self-awareness (I do not know where I am!)

You watch the way he carries himself, back straight, shoulders squared, arms crossed over his broad chest. Definitely a warrior.

You're used to being ignored by men like him, so you wait, letting his monologue wash over you. You have all the time in the world, after all.

You take a seat on the edge of the bathtub. The room goes quiet. The bushi looks at you.

"You're in Chicago, Illinois, United States of America. What's a demon?" you ask, remembering his shout when he broke down your bathroom door.

Kyojuro's eyes meet yours. You're caught under the full force of his fire colored gaze, which seems to glow in the dark with its intensity. He's unarmed, but you feel power pointed at you like a loaded gun, the bushi's finger on the trigger, the sights lined. He's ready to fire.

"I don't know what you mean, calling me a demon," you repeat, your voice clear and calm in the darkness.

Kyojuro reads your lips. He takes in your expression. There's no hesitation in your voice or avoidance in your gaze. You're telling the truth.

You're a demon who doesn't know what demons are.

What does that make him?

He doesn't feel monstrous. When he woke, Kyojuro didn't hunger for blood or human flesh. He felt no different than usual, which is why he chased the presence of a demon, hunting you down.

Coming down from his adrenaline now, Kyojuro realizes that he's a little different. He feels a little stronger, moves a little faster than he remembers. When you threw him into the wall, he recovered more quickly than a human can. The bump on his forehead's already feeling better.

There's no other explanation to how he's seeing from both eyes now, his stomach repaired with no scarring. You turned him into a demon. He had been dying. Now, he's fine. He doesn't even feel like death, because he's never eaten a human being.

This feels wrong, too normal, too easy.

"Are you sure you're a demon?"

You sputter, clutching the bathrobe tight to your chest.

"You—you ran into my bathroom, screaming demon. I don't know what a demon is. How would I know if I am one?"

The fire-haired man furrows his thick, forked brows. In that booming voice, he tells you of demons and demon slayers, Hashira and Twelve Kizuki, Muzan Kibutsuji and the country you'd left nearly a millennium ago.

You drop onto the edge of the bathtub as you listen. The energy of his voice washes over you, the excitement from earlier wearing off. Almighty Lord, the hour's too early and you're too sleep deprived for this.

Kyojuro watches you blink sleepily, leaning against the wall you broke with his forehead. The rest of the moisture evaporates from the bathroom, clearing the air so he can focus on your presence.

You're not a demon like Nezuko. Your energy is threaded with the human lives you've taken. But death doesn't weigh you down like Tamayo. Your essence is lighter, faintly threaded with the scent of flowers—lilies? Kyojuro closes his eyes and sees blue. He tells you he's a demon slayer and you nod lazily, like that's nice but none of your business. He finishes speaking and you yawn.

Your head tips back to expose the pale column of your throat.

He wants, suddenly, to run his thumb over your skin, and he doesn't know what to do with his wanting.

Dawn breaks. Sunlight spills through the window and over your features. You don't move from your spot.

The light stretches over to him. Morning passes over the healed wound in his stomach, the left eye he can now see out of.

"What are you?" Kyojuro asks. "What am I?" he murmurs when neither of you burn.

You close your eyes, pinching the slight bridge of your nose, "That—is a long story." 

..........

In the 18th century, you cured your reliance on human blood, so you get to know Rengoku Kyojuro over breakfast. You fry eggs and bacon, and fry eggs and bacon, and fry more eggs and bacon because Kyojuro eats for ten. As you cook, he migrates from your dining room to the kitchen, standing beside you where he can eat as soon as the food cools off from the grill. At this rate, you'll have to telephone your grocer to come tomorrow instead of Saturday.

"Tasty!" Kyojuro exclaims between bites with the same exuberance as when he called you pretty.

At first, he looked suspicious of your food. You pointed out that he watched you cook. He took a first bite, then a second, and now he's on his fourth plate. Though the boy says he's twenty, he acts younger than he looks, approaching life with apparent joy that you've never been able to manage in all your centuries.

It makes sense. Kyojuro hasn't said as much, but his build and the way he carries himself makes you sure he's from a bushi bloodline that persisted after the Meiji Restoration. He's well-fed, well-clothed, and well-trained to serve his Emperor or the Diet from birth.

Unlike him, your first twenty years were spent starving, sick, or both. The shogunate plucked you from the streets to stab needles in your skin, draw test tubes of your blood, and collect slices of your flesh. Their doctors loved you because you were too weak to fight back and too strong to die, at least until you got the injection that would be adapted for Muzan Kibutsuji.

You died despite all your master's promises. Or maybe you just seemed dead enough to bury. You remember nothing between the treatment flooding your bloodstream like ice in your veins, and waking in the unmarked grave with that terrible hunger.

You tell Kyojuro of your journey from Kyoto to Chicago, omitting the gruesome brutality of slavery, the filthy truth of poverty, and the gnawing anxiety of running for your life. You give a sanitized version fit for a young bushi. 

Kyojuro takes in the information without looking at you. He's washing your dishes, his sleeves rolled back to expose muscular forearms. He tries to keep his smile neutral, but you're too old to not see the hardness in his eyes, the set of his shoulders that speaks of preparation to strike.

Fine porcelain makes for a sharp blade once it shatters.

"You ate humans before you found it," Kyojuro notes when you describe the blue spiderlily.

"Yes," you admit and you wait.

When you dressed, you tucked a silver pistol into the waistband of your trousers. People like you and him are hard to kill, but you're loaded with sundowner bullets. If he tries you, you're ready.

Kyojuro passes you the cleaned frying pan.

"Do you regret it, eating people?"

He keeps up the hard smile, and you can sense yourself being evaluated for our worthiness to live.

You could lie to him. You should lie to him. All your self-preservation instincts scream for you to lie.

But Kyojuro is also a young man starting a new life in a new world. You know better than anyone how people can be robbed of their free will by lies and ignorance as well as whips and chains. In that instant, you make a decision that will define you.

You towel dry the pan and put it down, freeing your hands to reach for the gun. Then, you tell Kyojuro the truth:

"I regret nothing. I only ate people who deserved it."

His thick eyebrows narrow.

"Who deserves it? How could thousands of people—"

Not thousands. Tens-of-thousands. 

"I'm a millennium old. I've been around the world. A lot of people try to take advantage of a young foreign girl traveling alone at night. I ate the people who assaulted me first."

The monsters you've known aren't demons; they're human beings.

Kyojuro blinks at you with the surprise of a young man who's never had to fear being raped and murdered in the dark. Eventually, he shakes his head.

"You didn't have to kill them!" he declares. "Human criminals can be sentenced in a court of law!"

Spoken like a true bushi, since the warrior class had been Japan's law officers. You smirk, imagining Kyojuro as a copper.

"People make laws." What if a copper beats his wife? What if the murders take place in the slums, where nobody cares to enforce justice? "Not all people are good. Not all laws are good, either."

"Bad people should be brought to justice! Bad laws should be changed!"

But reform takes time, like the Demon Slayers' mission. In the meantime, it makes sense to protect others using whatever means you have, including your demon powers.

"Can you swear you've only fought in self defense!"

"I've also fought in defense of others."

Kyojuro dries a hand on his trousers and takes your arm, his grip strong, his skin warm.

"Then you're a good demon, like Kamado's sister! Come home to Japan with me. You can protect people—"

Your own smile drops like a curtain falling over your emotions.

"No."

"Why not!"

You bite your lip.

Kyojuro is so, so young, and you do not know how to tell him: you've never heard of the Demon Slayers. That's no surprise—nobody's heard of the experiments that made you, either. Shoguns and Emperors and Parliaments tuck people like you into unmarked graves, not the anneals of history. You're acceptable sacrifice in the name of progress, and sometimes, acceptable sacrifice returns to bite them in the ass like the mistake that became Muzan Kibutsuji, who is not your problem. You're not bushi like Kyujuro. Slave girls don't follow bushido. Your country used you up and threw you out; now, it's their turn to reap what they sowed.

You smile sweetly at Kyojuro, an old habit from masters who beat in that girls like you should smile for your betters.

"Nobody ever protected me."

Your voice is calm, your smile flawless, but those are the words of someone small, weak, and helpless. Kyojuro's father slayed demons, but his mother raised him to defend the weak. You're a weak demon, and Kyojuro doesn't know what to do with himself.

In the hours that you've known each other, you turned Kyojuro into a demon. You bashed his head into a stone wall. You admitted eating humans without regret.

But you also healed his injuries and asked nothing in return. You dressed and fed him after he assaulted you and tarnished your honor. You told him the truth of your history and your choices, despite knowing he was a demon slayer.

During his first mission, Kyojuro said that life is a series of decisions. You never have unlimited options or unlimited time to think, but what you choose in that instant defines who you are.

In the milliseconds after you speak, Kyojuro makes a decision that will define him. 

"I'll protect you!" he declares with the innocence of youth and the invincibility of warriors.

He did say that he would take responsibility for you, after all. Kyojuro keeps his promises. He takes your smaller hands in his and smiles at you, sun-bright.

You laugh in his face.

The shogunate of your era made armies of young men like him. When you left Japan, you learned that this happens the world over. Across countries and centuries, empires rise and fall under tides of blood from people like Kyojuro, young, hopeful, and foolish enough to adhere to chivalry, to noblesse oblige, to bushido, to believe their drops in the bucket can save the world.

You've lived through too many promises made and broken, met too many youths like him. For everyone you've reeled back from the brink, there's one hundred where you watched the light leave their eyes in despair or in death. Kyojuro is young. You are too old to believe men like him.

The morning sun rises into the cloudless sky. While you don't believe him, you don't pull away when he runs calloused thumbs over the ridges on the back of your palms. You don't resist when he hesitates briefly before setting your hands on his chest. 

You are old, but some instincts are older, from the dawn of humanity and the childhood you cannot remember. Kyojuro's hands smooth down your arms from your biceps to your elbows to your waist, drawing you to him until he's wrapped around you, his chest warm and solid beneath your hands. You feel him breathe, his red-yellow hair tickling your forehead. His hand pats gently along your spine like he's reassuring a child. Your fingers curl involuntarily into his shirt. Kyojuro smells like sandalwood and pine and the homeland you cannot forget. You don't believe him, but you want to.

#papersong writes #kimetsu no yaiba #rengoku x you #kyojuro rengoku #kimetsu rengoku #rengoku kyoujurou #rengoku kyōjurō #rengoku x y/n #kyoujurou x reader #rengoku kyojuro x reader #kny rengoku #demon slayer

[willowbleedsonpaper]

Shattered

James Potter x Reader

W.C. : 7591

Request:  Could you write a James Potter story where they have to fake date for a few weeks and the reader develops feelings and thinks James feels the same but doesn’t? And could you include “I feel stupid. I feel so stupid” or “I let myself get attached and now it’s too late”

A/N: This is my first time wrting for James and only the request made me cry, needless to say I cry writing this. I hope you like it lovely anon, and I hope is not too dramatic. Thank you for requesting! Happy reading, Skittles.

Warnings: Cursing, Angst, my english. Let me know if there is something else. Didn’t proofread so I apologize for any mistake.

Flashbacks are written like this!

"Y/N!"

You snapped your head up, staring at the pile of books in front of you in annoyance as the inevitable unfolded before you. 

"Merlin, woman." he said, taking the chair next to you, scraping it against the floor without a care for the library rules, a wide smile always in his face "You are a hard person to find." 

You blinked rapidly at him, biting your tongue before deciding you could only fight fire with fire "Don't you have a map to help you with that?" 

His smile was quickly erased, shushing sounds coming from him like a hiss as he shot a hand to your mouth "You promised you wouldn't talk about it." he said lowly, taking his hand away from you when you nodded. 

"What do you want, James?" you asked with the roll of your eyes, returning to the reading "I'm listening." you told him again when he just stared at you. 

"I need a favor." he said flatly. You took a hesitant glance at him; his body was tense, back straight against the chair as his hand played with one another in his lap. 

"Figures," you mumbled closing the book "What did you do?" you asked him. 

He wrinkled his nose, an offended look in his face "I haven't done anything." he said in a higher voice, leaning against the table "Is what are you going to do for me." he grinned, taking a more relaxed posture on the chair. 

"Right," you scoffed, watching him stare at you in deep thought "Well, what is it?!" 

He took a deep breath and you prepared yourself for the worst. But not a lifetime could have prepared you for what he said. 

"I need you to pretend to be my girlfriend." he blurted out, putting on his most innocent smile as he batted his lashes at you. 

"No." you spat, turning to your books again. 

"Oh, c'mon." he said dramatically, ignoring the complaints from Madame Ponce and the other students. "I'll give you anything you want. Huh? Money, clothes, books. I'll do your homework." he said, his head laying on top of your open book. 

"I wouldn't trust you with my homework even if I was failing all my classes." you pushed his head away from your book, closing it as you stared at him with your arms crossed "Besides, why would you want me to pretend to date you?" you asked, the mere idea sending chills all over your body. 

He smiled tightly, playing with the edge of the table "Evans." he mumbled, coughing lightly after and turning to his sides to see no one had heard him. 

"You sick bastard," you whispered in disbelief, eyes wide as he shrunk under your hard gaze "You want to make her jealous." 

"Only for a while. For her to see what she's missing." he said, his confidence back as fast as it left him "Please Y/N, she would never suspect of you." he said pleadingly with a pout. 

"Why me?" you asked "There are plenty of girls who would die for a chance to date you, so why me?" 

His eyes felt slightly, a nervous chuckle leaving his lips "Well first because I trust you and you are my friend." 

"Debatable, but go on." 

"And because it'll be more believable. Everyone knows we went to a few parties together, spent some time together, snogging and all…" 

"Okay!" you practically shouted "I get it, okay?" 

"Is that a yes?" his eyes slit up, his smile wider than ever. 

You sighed, rolling your eyes as you started regretting your choice already "One month, Potter. If it doesn't work you're on your own." 

"Yes!" he whispered, punching the air in triumph as he stood up 'You're the best." he mumbled, placing his hand on your shoulder as he grabbed  his jacket from the back of the chair and walked away. 

You shook your head, returning to your reading "Uh, almost forgot," you heard him from afar before you felt him place a kiss in your cheek, the heat rising to your cheeks as you stared wide-eyed at him "See you at dinner, love" he said, winking at you before he left for good.

You sat there frozen, the transfiguration essay completely forgotten as you caressed your cheek where he had kissed you. 

You shrugged, quickly taking all your books and bag and running for the place, completely oblivious to the curious eyes from the girls that sat a few tables away from yours, their giggles and low murmurs quickly spreading all over Hogwarts. 

James Potter had gotten himself a girlfriend. 

*******************************

Time flies by when you actually focus on the task at hand. You had spent most of the day at your common room, people coming on going as you stayed glued to the same chair. You had proudly finished your transfiguration essay, started the research for potions and found some books that would prove themselves useful in the coming week.

The halls were empty as you walked peacefully through them, enjoying the echo of your steps on the stone walls. Everyone was already at the Great Hall, you could hear the chatting and laughter as you neared the enormous room, that also meant that you could hear the hurried steps of someone running towards you. 

You slowed down, considering the option of running the opposite way until you saw black curls and an uncharacteristic nervous smile. You had stopped, waiting for him to catch up with you when he forcefully grabbed your arm and pushed you to an empty classroom.

“What the hell, James?” you hissed, turning to him as he closed the door.

“Did you tell anyone?” he asked out of breath, rolling his eyes at your quizzical look. “That we’re dating?!” he said, more desperate, shaking his hands in the air.

“Fake dating.” you corrected him, and he shushed you again.

“Only we know that,” he pointed at the two of you, running a hand through his hair as he paced “Besides anyone could be listening so keep that to yourself.”

“Why are you so nervous?” you asked him with a frown “Isn’t it good that everyone knows?” you asked, confused, taking a seat in the desk as he slowly started to panic.

“I thought I would have a little more time, you know. Make a big deal out of it. Asking you out and then to be my girlfriend, all that.” he explained, his pacing never faltering.

“James, calm down.” you said softly, reaching your hand to his. He took it and you pulled him to sit next to you. “They just saved you some time, we can always say it was a secret.” 

He turned to you with wide eyes, a relieved smile in his face as he nodded “Yeah, that’s a great idea.” he mumbled, cleaning his forehead with the back of his hand “Yeah, okay.” he said more confidently as he jumped from the desk, his breathing even once more.

You did the same, turning to him before you opened the door “Ready lover boy?” you asked, getting a firm nod from him as you got out with him following close behind. 

What you weren’t expecting was his hand on your lower back, guiding you to the Great Hall before he wrapped it around your shoulder, his hand hanging loosely at your side. It wasn’t a long walk to the place he usually sat, but it felt like it. All eyes were on you, and they had different energies to them. Some were happy, like they had been waiting for this for a long time and it had finally happened; others were shocked, the low murmurs with both your names hanging in the air as you strolled down to the table; and the last one and the one you were hoping for, angry, jealous, glares burning your skin as you sat down next to him. 

“So it’s true, then?” asked Remus with a smile, his eyes meeting yours in amusement “You finally won the heart of our Jamie?” 

You laughed, putting your nerves aside and doing what you were gonna be rewarded for “More like he won mine,” you said, looking back at James with a grin “He had been chasing me like a dog, thought maybe he was worth it.” you smiled, getting surprised looks from everyone at the table.

“Has he now?” asked Sirius with a knowing look, staring at James in a silent conversation before he turned to the redhead “Hey Lily, you heard that?”

She met Sirius' eyes with a glare, rolling her eyes “Loud and clear, Sirius.” she mumbled, not even sparing a glance in your or James’ way.

“Yeah well, I got the message loud and clear too, Evans.” said James, with a smug look “I know when to give up on something.” 

*******************************

The announcement of your relationship with James went nothing like you had expected. You went from being just another student at Hogwarts to being James Potter girlfriend, captain of the Gryffindor quidditch team and one of the most popular students. Hell, even Mcgonagall got excited when she saw him, with a few exceptions. 

“So you got detention?” you asked him as you walked through Hogsmeade holding hands. The cold air blowing through your hair while he pulled you closer to him, his body warmer than you would have expected with only the jacket he wore. 

“Maybe,”  he said with a breathy laugh “Totally worth it, though. You should have seen their faces when the cauldron exploded.” he said excitedly, almost jumping the last steps to the Honeydukes. 

“Oh, I can imagine.” you told him as he opened the door for you “What are we doing here?” you asked him, finding him smiling down at you.

“Pick whatever you want, love.” he said, opening his arms as you took the entire shop in. “Well, go on. You must want something, I know for a fact you love these so we’re taking those with us.” he took a bunch of sugar quills from the shelves, carrying them in his arms as he pulled you with him with his other hand.

You laughed, not knowing what to do or say “James, what are you doing?” you asked, making him stop for a moment.

He turned to you, his eyes widening as he picked up a chocolate frog he handed to you with a funny face “What do you think? Buying treats for my favorite person.” he chuckled. 

You didn’t question him as he essentially bought every single candy the store had, you two got out of there with a bag for each one of you.

It was a lovely date, your first one for that matter. A week after the beginning of your little act and he had insisted in taking you out on dates whenever he could. The first one, of course, being to Hogsmeade. After Honeydukes you went to the Three Broomsticks, drinking butterbeers and laughing at every single thing he said. Putting up the act for the prying eyes.

It wasn’t difficult, really. James was actually your friend and you had previously spent time with him and his friends, but the audience made your stomach turn inside of you. You knew the group on the table next to yours were paying attention for every detail they could grasp their hands on, you knew that as more people arrived at the establishment their eyes would fall on you. You felt exposed.

“Hey,” he said softly, grabbing your hand over the table “You okay?” he asked, lowering his head so he could look directly at your eyes.

You nodded your head, smiling over your butterbeer “Just fine.” you lied.

But he wasn’t taking it, he cocked his head to the door, helping you to your feet as he grabbed the bags of your candy. “C’mon.” he murmured on the side of your head before he placed a soft kiss there.

You slowly walked back to the castle, his soothing voice never stopping to tell you about everything he did, for quidditch to pranks. He was an endless source of conversation that you found yourself enjoying, not that you would admit that out loud. 

You didn't even pay attention to where he was leading you, the soft soil underneath your feet making you look forward as the Black Lake appeared before your eyes. 

"James, there's no one here." you told him as you looked at every possible direction. 

He had already sat on the ground, patting the spot next to him "I know," he murmured, pulling you to gin so your head was resting on his shoulder "You didn't look comfortable with everyone looking at you." he said. 

He had his hand running up and down your arms, the motion so soothing you almost ignored all the thoughts going wild inside your head. You looked up at him suspiciously, square noting your eyes even if he didn't seem to notice your gaze on him. 

"And why do you care?" you asked him, trying to sound playful but your voice betraying you as it came out more like a whisper "You have one goal and it's not my wellbeing."

He laughed, glancing down at you before he kept his eyes in the distance. "You're still my friend." he said softly "And you're helping me, the least I can do is make it more enjoyable for you." 

You raised an eyebrow at him, but didn't say anything. You knew the look in his face all too well, it was the same face he made in a particularly difficult quidditch match or whenever he was taking a test; he would frown deeply, wetting his lips every now and then when they weren't in a thin line, he would look a nothing in particular as if he saw something that wasn't there but in reality he was aware of everything around him. He was inside of his own world. 

You didn't realize when you ended laying on the grass, your head on his lap as he played with your hair. You had fallen asleep and the only reason you had woken up from the peaceful sleep was because of him poking your cheeks. 

"Wake up," he whispered in your ear, smiling down at you when you slowly opened your eyes "There you go, sleeping beauty." he said, helping you sit up. 

"Huh?" you asked, rubbing the sleep off your eyes with a yawn "Who's sleeping beauty?" 

"I don't know," he admitted with a shrug of his shoulders. "Moony calls Sirius that when he wakes up, thought it fitted you." he said. 

He walked you to your dorm room in a comfortable silence after you apologized a thousand times for falling asleep on your date, assuring you it was fine. 

"You talk in your sleep." 

"No, I don't." 

"Yeah, you do. Mainly my name, really." he said, wiggling his eyebrows at you. 

He wished you good night, giving you a tight hug before you handed him his bag from Honeydukes. 

"Keep it." he said, closing your hand over the handle of the bag. He gave you one last look before he started to walk away, turning a few times to you still there, shaking your head as he ran when Professor McGonagall voice boomed over the halls calling his name. 

You sighed, going inside your dorm and placing the bags over the bed. A smile appeared on your face as you pulled a sugar quill, a tiny note written in messy handwriting attached to it. 

First week payment. 

You laughed, taking a bite out of the candy as you placed the note back inside. 

"What in Merlin's name? Did you rob Honeydukes?" 

You turned at the sound of your roommate and the door opening "No," you said, a smug smile in your face as you raised an eyebrow to her "My boyfriend bought them for me." 

*******************************

The fuss over your relationship with James had dissipated into a common thing that no one questioned. Watching you close to each other, holding hands at the halls or underneath the table, murmuring things into each other's ears provoking a smile or a chuckle from any of you, kisses on the cheeks, forehead or temple as you held each other close. Only the more skeptic would question the longing stares you two shared at any given moment you were forced apart. 

“You’re amazing.” you heard James over our shoulder as you sat in the common room, close to the fire with a cup of tea in hand. You raised an eyebrow at him, sipping at your tea. 

“Thank you?” you said, placing down the hot cup as he sat next to you in the far too tiny couch. "Don't get me wrong, I am amazing. I just don't get why you of all people would be telling me this." 

"Don't be silly." he said, taking your face in his hands as he squeezed your cheeks "Peter heard Lily talking very angrily about you." he whispered with the biggest smile. 

Your eyes widening, slowly nodding as he moved his hands from your face so you could talk "Oh, that. Nothing new." you told him, and she pulled slightly from you "Don't tell me you haven't noticed the glares and heard the grunts from her as soon as we appear in the room." 

He shook his head and you wanted to laugh, but chose to smile tightly "Oh, Jamie. You are so oblivious." you said patting his cheek softly. 

He pouted, looking hurt at you as he took your wrist in his hand "So the last two weeks Lily has been killing you in her head and I knew nothing of it?" he asked in annoyance. 

"Pretty much, yes. Although I only noticed this week in potions." you said, capturing his interest as he somehow fitted his body on the couch laying his head on your lap. You sighed, knowing he wanted to hear what you got "I don't know what I was doing but you were staring at me with dowey eyes, and you kept bothering me with something…" 

"Nice you pay attention to me," he grumbled. "I was asking you to go see me play this Saturday, you heartless woman." he said with a fake hurt look. 

"Right, anyway. Remember how you told me a joke that almost makes me slip because of how hard I was laughing?"

He nodded, taking your hand as he played with your fingers, a smile appearing on his lips as he remembered "Yeah, I had to hold you so you wouldn't drop the cauldron all over yourself." he chuckled, poking your rib where his hand had been that day. 

"Well, when I finally calmed down…" 

"Hours later if you ask me." 

You slapped his hand "Let me finish," you whined, as he mouthed a Sorry and indicated you to go on "Well, when you stop talking nonsense I caught Lily looking at you before she turned with a glare at me."

"Really?" he breathed out like a kid, hiding the excitement in his voice "What did you do?" he asked you. 

"I smiled at her and took your hand later." you said proudly, keeping your head high with a smile. 

He sat up, crushing you with a hug as he peppered your face with kisses "I told you you were amazing.“ he laughed excitedly. He let go of you, eyes shining as he held up a finger, running up the stairs of the boys room. Minutes later he came back down, a large box in hand with the colors of your house. 

He placed it on your lap, sitting next to you as he gave you space. He nudged your arm when you only stared at the box in shock "Open it." he said encouragingly.

With the shake of your head you took the ribbon, undoing the knot slowly. Once you opened it, staring at it "What's this?" you mumbled, pulling a neatly folded sweater in the colors of Gryffindor . Once it was fully out of the box your nose caught the faintest smell, doubtfully bringing it to your face. 

"James, this is yours." you said lowly, looking up at him. 

He nodded, pulling a scarf of the box as well and wrapping it around your neck "What kind of boyfriend would I be if I didn't give you my sweater? Besides, I wasn't kidding when I asked you to the game." he said. 

"I know you weren't," you said back, putting the gifts back in the box "I was planning on going whether you were kidding or not." 

"Really?" he said, a little caught off guard "You never go to the games, ever." 

You stared back at him as he leaned back on the couch, talking but you had stopped listening. He was right, you never went to see the games. So why were you so sure you were going? Nothing had changed, sure, you were 'dating him' but you still didn't like quidditch, you had more important things to do, why did you want to go? 

“I'm gonna put this in my dorm." you said, not even noticing you cut him off mid sentence. 

"Sure." he beamed, his face falling a little at the look in your eyes "Hey, are you okay?“ he said, taking your hand before you went away. You gave him a soft nod, gripping his hand before he let you go. 

Once at your dorm you closed the door, lighting some candles as you sat with the open box in your bed. It might as well be your birthday, the sweater and scarf not being the only things there. He had included more candies that you could possibly eat, always teasing you because of your sweet tooth. And at the bottom of the box, another note. 

Second week payment. 

*******************************

The week stretched out like it had never done it before. Your excitement for the quidditch match increased as the day neared, everyone was talking about as they made bets and wore something to support their favorite team. 

And you weren't someone to stay behind, whether it was James' sweater or the scarf, you walked the corridors and attended class with a proud air flowing around you. It didn't matter if James was around you or not, you wore the red and golden colors like a brand. 

To your luck, Saturday arrived and you were up at the first light. You put a little more effort in your looks, making sure that you were comfortable but looked nice for the big day. James had tried to explain why it was so big and everyone was so excited about it, and even if you didn't understand you were thrilled, your body vibrating with the rush of the people around you. 

You got to the Great Hall, the entire team cheering at you walking towards the table as you looked for James with your eyes. 

"Mrs. Potter! “ yelled Sirius as soon as his eyes landed on you, a round of whistles and howling sounds erupting from the mouths of the exhilarated team. You tilted your head at him with wide eyes, lowering your head when you felt an arm around you. 

"Oi! Shut up, Pads. I'm the only one who gets to make her blush." he stated, saying hello in your ear as he climbed on the bench. "Gentlemen!" he shouted, everyone stopping their activities so they could listen. 

"Today is not like any other game we've played in the past. Two things are different today," he said with an almost hungry smile "Those Slytherins have been bragging about their new member, a new seeker. The jewel to their crown they said" 

Everyone started booing, their hands around their mouths as they voices boomed all over the room. Your eyes stared in awe at the man up on the chair, yelling and cheering for his team. 

"But they don't know that we also have a new jewel in our crown!" he shouted, the murmurs spreading as he gave them a wolfish grin "We got ourselves a luck charm." he said, pointing his hand at you. "This is Y/N's first game! Are we going to make this the best game for her or what!?" 

"YEAH!“ they all yelled, the energy in the room turning more and more powerful as they cheered and howled, a pack of lions ready to take on the snakes. 

He smiled down at his team, jumping from the bench and landing next to you "Ready?“ he said, looking over your shoulder before he returned his eyes to you "Remus is gonna sit with you during the game, okay?"

You smiled at Remus, who had been there since the beginning of the speech "Cheer for me, love." he whispered, kissing your cheek and running off with the team before you could answer him.

You stood next to Remus, a blissful look in your face as you stated at the place where James had been a second before. 

"I don't know what you did to him, but please keep it up." he chuckled, offering his arm as you two walked to the quidditch pitch. 

"I'll try my best." you said with a smile, forcing the bitter feeling in your heart away. 

The game had begun smoothly, you and Remus had been sitting down and keeping up a nice chat, he was an interesting person, really surprising that he was so close to Sirius and James. Peter. You understood, he reminded you more of him. But as the chat advanced and he let go a little more you saw that he wasn't as innocent as you thought. 

But at some point you both lost the string of the conversation, Slytherin scoring their first points. You started yelling and cheering for Gryffindor next to Remus, who more quietly supported his house. 

Gryffindor won the game and you clearly had been there to see it. Your hair was a mess, wild from all the jumping and at some point in the game you had discarded the scarf, getting in your way as you followed all the players. It had been a whole experience. 

"Come with me." said Remus to you, pulling you through the crowd as the teams were still flying in the air. 

"Where are we going?" you laughed. 

"The dressing rooms." he said, and there in fact was where he was taking you. 

You lowered your head a little when the Slytherin team stormed by your side, almost flattening your entire body to the wall as to avoid their anger. But that didn't last long as Remus pointed a little forward in the corridor and you met the brightest smile ever. 

It didn't take long for him to get to you, almost throwing his broom to the ground when he ran to you. His arms went around your waist as he sinned you up in the air, a whole heartedly laugh coming from you before he set you safely on the floor. 

He didn't say anything as your hands rested on his chest, looking up to his eyes before he met yours. His mind seemed to be working faster than his body, his eyes shaky looking everywhere before they settled on your lips, crashing his lips to your as he pulled you flat against him. 

It took you a second to react, frozen against him before you wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him closer. The cheering and whistles made him smile as he kissed you more passionately, only stopping by the loud sound of a door. 

You looked back a little startled, his fingers on your chin bringing your eyes back to him "Slytherins are bad losers." he breathed out. 

*******************************

The third week  of tour deal with James was nearing its end and you were dreading the beginning of the final one. 

You knew it was wrong, you knew you shouldn't have and you knew that it was doomed since the moment you admitted to yourself that you were falling for James Potter. 

You tried everything in your power to ignore the flutter in your chest every time he took your hand in his, no matter where you were, he always had his hand wrapped around your smaller one. You tried to ignore the fly of the butterflies inside you every time he caught you looking at him and smiled, not thinking any of it as he returned to his activities. You tried to fight the blush in your cheeks every time he kissed you, and you tried so hard to ignore the itching in your hands to pull him closer to you every time he kissed you just like he did after the quidditch match. 

Nothing worked. 

You tried to focus on the things that annoyed you before the bloody deal, his overly loud laughter at things that weren't even that funny, his cocky attitude like he was the best person in the entire world and he knew it, you tried to get mad at him for being so damn charming but you couldn't. 

You found yourself smiling at the sound of his laugh, the pure look of happiness in his eyes as he laughed at something one of his friends said. You would stare at him talking about quidditch, potions and transfiguration because he knew what he was talking about and he wasn't shy about, he loved to talk about it but he didn't make you feel like an idiot for not knowing. You couldn't get mad at him for being the charming man he was because that's one of the spells he placed on you, one of the reasons you were slowly falling for him. 

And you weren't the only one who noticed. 

"Hey, Y/N!" Sirius yelled, jogging to catch up with you at the end of the hall "You have a free period?" he asked, taking your bag from your shoulder. 

"Yes…" you said slowly, watching his every move "Sirius, what are you doing?" you asked when he wrapped his arm around your shoulder, your bag resting on his shoulder. 

"Walk with me, darling." he said, looking around as he led you upstairs "We're gonna have a little nice chat." he smiled at you. 

You had disconnected from every form of reality, suddenly feeling your hands sweaty as you tried to reach for your bag for something to hold onto, but of course he had taken it away from you. 

"James is not with me," you mumbled "He is…" 

"At quidditch practice." he completed for you, meeting your doe eyes with a grin "Relax, I'm not gonna do anything to you. Actually, I think I am going to help you." 

"What?" you whispered, going up the last step at the stairs of the astronomy tower. 

He turned with a sigh, holding your shoulders as he stared deep into your eyes "I know you're falling for James." he said gently, a very uncharacteristic tone from him. 

"I don't know what you're talking about." you blurted out, cursing yourself for saying it so fast. 

"Yeah, you do." he said with a wink "I also happened to know you are fake dating and not the love birds you have everyone believing you are." 

You swallowed hard, your voice gone as well as any rational thought you could have. 

"Breath Y/N, and listen." he said, blocking the only way out of the top of the astronomy tower that didn't include throwing yourself in the air, which didn't sound so bad at the moment.

"I've never seen him like that before, and I don't think he is pretending anymore." 

"Like what?" you dated to ask with a string of voice. 

He looked at you intently, finding the words as he carefully phrase it "He seemed very immersed in you, hasn't spoke about Evans in a while." he told you, leaning against the rail of the stairs "It all kind of clicked when he confessed you were only helping him with certain redhead." 

You shook your head "No, I don't want to know. “You tried to walk past him without a care if he had your bag or if he called after you, but he was fast, gapping your arm in the first step. You looked up at him with a pleading look "Don't give me hope, Sirius." you whispered, lowering your head as you got out of his grasp.

He let his hand fall at his side, your bag hitting the ground as he did. He could hear the faint sound of you crying as you ran away, being worse than he expected. 

As soon as you calmed down a little you washed your face in the girl's bathroom, making sure your eyes didn't look red or puffy as you returned to your dorm. 

Your roommates were there, all in one bed chatting before you walked inside. Their eyes were suddenly and all at once in you, their squeals making you giggle lightly as you one of them stood up. 

She went to their nightstand, getting a bag from the top and a little box. "James left them for you." she said excitedly handing them to you. 

You thanked her, looking down at the bed before you sat with them, putting the bag aside as you already know what they were. Your interest more on the small box that had you and the girls gasping at you opened. 

"It is beautiful." exclaimed one of them as they all agreed in low murmurs. 

A silver bracelet with a star Chem hanging discreetly from the chain, the light caught on the charm making little flickers shine on your faces. 

"Do you want me to put it on?" one offered and you shook your head no, taking the box and walking to the door again. 

"Y/N, what about the bag?" they asked you and you stopped at the door, looking back at it .

"Keep them." you said, walking out the door.

Going down the stairs and to your common room you sat in front of the fire, enjoying the warmth it provided to you. You didn't know when you went from enjoying all this situation, from laughing and just being overall happy to feeling it like a burden in your shoulders. The heaviness in your heart as you thought that all of this was with one goal and it wasn't proving your love to you, but proving the love he could give Lily. 

And yet Sirius' words resonated in your mind. He was his best friend, he knew him probably better than James knew himself, what if he was right? What if he actually saw something in you that he didn't see in her? Could it be that he might be in the same position as you were? 

You took the box and opened it again, the star charm giving you a little spark of hope as you held it up in the light, the tag tied to it making your heart fall once more that day. 

You took it between your fingers and pulled it  from the bracelet, throwing the piece of parchment to the fire as you saw the words burn. 

Third week payment

******************************

The final week of your agreement was coming towards its end, and unlike the previous week this one passed in the blink of an eye. You spent most of it having an internal battle with the part of you that screamed to get every second you could with James before it all ended, to finally say something to him, anything. Give him a clue of how your feelings had changed over the course of the last month, to tell him you might not compare on any level with Lily Evans but you loved him with every beat of your heart.

You spent nights silently crying in your bed when you realized this wasn't a crush, that you didn't think you might like him or that you were falling for him. No, to this point your heart heavied inside your chest with the burning truth that you loved him.

The other part of you fought to get away from him, to run away from his embrace and soft murmurs, to ignore his calls and smiles. To isolate yourself from him as you tried to wash away the love you had for the Gryffindor, but nothing seemed to work.

Gryffindor had been celebrating their victory like no one ever had before, hosting parties in their common room at every chance they got and, of course, your presence was required there.

“There you are!” smiled James at you as you walked through the portrait. Against your better judgement you decided to listen to your heart. This was the night that you would tell him the truth, you would confess your feelings and how you had fallen hard for him the past month.

“Hi” you giggled, letting him engulf you in a hug. You took in his scent, the way his chest vibrated against your face as he kept talking while he held you, the warmth he radiated. Everything you ever wanted.

When you pulled from him he was smiling brightly at you, taking your hand to pull you with him. 

“James,” you called, not moving from where you stood “Do you think I could talk to you outside?” you smiled softly at him, a shimmer in your eyes that had him nodding his head in a second.

He muttered something to Sirius who looked past him and in your way, giving you a wink and an encouraging smile. 

You led James through the empty corridors, his constant questioning making you stop in one of the windows that faced the courtyard. 

You were gathering the courage, having him sit in the windowsill as you pace in front of him, an amused look in his eyes. 

"Y/N," he said softly, you looked back at him taking deep breaths as he talked "Before you say anything, I just want to thank you. No one would have ever dared to do this for me." 

"Yeah, right." you laughed, relaxing a little. This was James, you had nothing to fear. 

"I mean it!" he said back, looking down at his hands "And… well, I believe this past month has changed us both." Your heart started to beat faster, the feeling in your stomach almost unbearable as he kept talking. 

"I realized something and I think you have too. We became closer, almost inseparable and I- you have no idea how thankful I am." 

"Jamie, I need to tell you something. " You said, frozen in your place as your eyes shakily looked for him. He raised his eyebrows, nodding at you with a smile. 

"I love you." you whispered with a smile, going to take his hand before you realized it was limp on yours. Looking up, the smile that decorated his face before was completely gone as he stared blankly at you. 

"What?“ he asked, taking his hand slowly from yours. “No, you don’t. You were pretending.” he said nervously “Right?” 

Your entire world fell around you when the warmth of his hand left you, you started to feel the castle walls close around you, blocking the air from getting to your lungs as you  stepped back, the pain of rejection worse than you could have ever anticipated. 

You covered your mouth with one hand, hugging yourself with your other arm as you turned your back on him, fighting the tears that threatened to escape your eyes. 

"Oh, Merlin." you sobbed quietly, feeling his hand on your shoulder as you turned to him. 

"Y/N…" he said softly but you couldn't face him, the pity in his eyes enough to make the dam in your eyes break. 

"I wasn’t pretending, not anymore." you whispered, cleaning the tears as more fell down. He called for you again, his voice more insistent. You purse your lips, turning quickly to see him "But you were, weren't you?" you asked in between silent sobs, your lower lip trembling furiously at his face. 

He had his mouth slightly open, looking for the words that never came. Not the ones you so desperately wanted to hear. 

"We were both pretending, remember?" he said slowly, never moving from his seat at the railing "We made a deal." 

"Forget the fucking deal!" you cried, looking for his eyes but finding nothing "So you're telling me that it meant nothing to you?" you asked, his face lifting form the floor. 

He looked sad, broken. Like he was too holding back, his eyes were shakily looking all over your face for a sign that you were just acting, that you hadn't fallen for him. 

"All the smiles and the loving words, the kisses and notes. Everything you did and every word was just an act?" you ask in a whisper, his silence worse than a thousand blades coming down on you. 

You saw him swallow hardly, finally looking at you "Lily was always there. I thought you noticed." he said lowly, voice barely above a whisper. 

You shook your head, kneeling on the floor as you took deep breaths. "I stopped pretending. It felt so real I- I thought, I just thought you would feel the same." you sighed, head hanging low “How could I be so stupid.” you mumbled bitterly “Of course Lily was there, how could I… I feel stupid. I feel so stupid.” 

He stared at you, furiously wiping the tears falling down your cheeks as you kept talking through gritted teeth. He was frozen, not knowing what to do or say that could place the smile on your face again, that could dry the tears from your cheeks and stop the trembling of your body. 

"I'm sorry." he said after a long moment of silence. You had walked all the way across the hall resting your entire body on the stone wall, looking up at the ceiling. You shook your head, standing up straight and looking out the window, at anything but him.

"It's not your fault. You're right, we had a deal and I knew what I was getting into since that day at the library." you let out a breathy laugh "I let myself get attached and now it's too late." you said, giving him a sad smile before you turned and walked away from him "Goodbye, James." 

You blocked everything after that. You didn't hear him call for you or go after you, you weren't even sure if he did. You didn't remember how you got back to your dorm, the door creaking open as you stepped inside. The lights were out, the entire dorm dark with the only source of light coming from the moon. You closed the door behind you not really caring if it made noise, your roommates weren’t there anyway. 

You walked to the bathroom, changing into more comfortable clothing and washing your face to try and make the redness around your eyes lessen, feet heavy as you returned to your bed, a soft yet blinding light capturing your attention. Your breath hitched on your throat at the sight, a flat box rested open on top of your bed with a single note sticking up. 

You thought you would feel numb fire wouldn’t burn anymore as the rain would not make you cold. You knew what you were risking by telling him everything and the worst thing just happened. 

He loved Lily, not you. 

You could avoid him, be another ghost at Hogwarts until your heart healed from the broken pieces. All wounds heal with time, right?

But as you neared your bed, reaching your hand slowly to the dark red paper covering the last gift from him your heart shattered. 

“You like it?” He whispered in your ear, a smile creeping up on your face as you placed the mirror you were holding  back on its place. 

“It’s beautiful.” you whispered as you shook your head “But I already have mirrors, it would be idiotic to buy yet another one.” 

He hummed as he held it back for you “I don’t know, this one is different.” he whispered, rounding you so he was standing behind you. He moved all your hair over your shoulder, staring at you through the mirror before he placed it down.

“You’re probably right, though,” he said with a grin “Wouldn’t want you to have to see your beauty every morning, must be tiring.”

Your hand closed around the handle of the mirror, lifting slowly as you stared back at your empty eyes. This was the last piece of James Potter in your life, the last thing that you would get from the fantasy you lived the past month.

You might have been able to heal from a broken heart, the cracks of it filling with time and patience. But as you stared longer at the mirror, the more painful the memories became until you couldn’t take it any longer. 

Your scream as you threw the mirror against the wall was muffled by the crashing sounds as all the pieces bounced off the wall. Your body collapsed on the floor, never caring about the shattered mirror. All the pain from the cuts on your hands and knees couldn’t be compared to what you were feeling inside, to the stabbing pain as you read the words staring back at you from the floor.

Fourth week payment.

After all, you could always fix a broken heart. But how did you fix a shattered one? 

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