#i just had to stop for a second and collect myself because just...

[pastafossa]

Charlie Cox experience at Philly Fan Expo 2023

So LET”S TALK ABOUT ME MEETING CHARLIE. I’m actually going to make two posts - this one just about my experiences with Charlie, because they were incredibly meaningful and deserve their own post, and then another one about the rest of the con!

I’m going to talk about Charlie first, because of how amazing the experience was, one of the best I’ve had, especially at the autograph table. I’ve done photos, gotten autographs and such before from other celebs - from niche voice actors I loved to people like David Tennant - but this felt Really Really Big. Obviously, I was nervous as all hell because holy shit Charlie Cox, my favorite actor whose work altered the course of my life. I won’t lie - I’d been practicing what to say to him in case I freaked out, but I’m happy to say that everyone who reassured me it would go great, because he was so, so genuine and kind, were right.

The photo op happened first (and thank you to everyone on tumblr guiding me where to go, cause I was LOST about where that was happening), and that went fast. By that point in the con hall, I’d already ditched my Jessica Jones jacket and gloves cause holy shit it’s hot and I am a creature of snow and ice, and my hair was a mess, but honestly I didn’t care, cause there he is. You don’t get long, but he made the most of it and he was SO sweet. Ya’ll, he asked my name, said my name as he shook my hand, and called me ‘my dear’ in that beautiful voice.

I was literally on the moon, but it was time for the big question:

Will he hold the red thread from TRT?

So in a quiet, nervous, soft author voice, I asked, ‘would you be ok with holding this end of the thread?’

HE FUCKING DID.

HE HELD IT.

HE HELD. THE. RED. THREAD.

I’m fairly certain he doesn’t know about the fic at this point - he wasn’t sure where to hold it until I told him, but he loved that it lit up! AND THEN HE PUT HIS ARM AROUND ME AND I GOT TO PUT MY ARM AROUND HIM BACK.

I’m fairly certain I’m dead in the photo. My soul had left my body. I had ascended. I saw Jesus and he looked like Charlie. I had achieved fic author heights never imagined. My brain filled with enough serotonin and dopamine to sink a ship. I didn’t care that I was hot and sweaty or that my hair was messy or that my cosplay didn’t work out like I’d planned. I had been blessed.

also look at that forearm holy shit

I floated outta that gd room ya’ll. I’m pretty sure @wonderlandmind4​ did the same. WE FROLICKED OUT OF THAT HALL LIKE

But things got even better at the autograph table, and I had one of the most touching experiences ever.

not me tearing up thinking about it.

That line was long, but I kept getting glimpses of him and I could already tell he was enjoying interacting with people, and he was making sure everyone got their bit of time with him instead of letting anyone rush people through. He was so happy looking, laughing and grinning, high fives and fist bumps for kids, chatting with fans. Which made me feel a little more confident.

I know some people wondered if I’d tell him about TRT, and I’d already decided I wasn’t going to. Instead, I really, really wanted just a second to tell him what his work as Daredevil had meant for me, as someone who became disabled around the same time Matt did as a kid, and who related to... a lot of what Matt went through in the show. I’d practiced it over and over again, and there was only a fifty percent chance I wouldn’t start crying while telling him, and I wasn’t even sure I’d have time to tell him depending on how much time we had.

He made time.

I got up to him with my art print holy shit he’s even more beautiful in person and his eyes are STUNNING. He said hi, and asked my name so he could personalize the autograph if I wanted (DUH, YES PLEASE), and he apologized about the line after we shook hands. I jokingly told him it was fine since I’d driven hours to get here. A little time in line wasn’t a bother. He even loved one of the buttons on my lanyard - the button of Matt wearing a heart crown specifically! And as he was writing, I knew this was my chance to tell him. He was still signing, so I just decided to go for it in case I ran out of time.

“I just wanted to tell you,” I said quietly, “as someone who became disabled as a kid around the same age as Matt did—”

And then he did something I didn’t expect, something I’d rarely seen anyone do, famous or not, and something I’d never had an actor or artist do for me.

He immediately set down the pen, leaned in close over the table, and made direct eye contact, while giving me the most genuine, gentle, encouraging smile I’d ever seen.

In that moment, I knew everything in him was listening, that he cared about what I was about to say and recognized that this was important to me, and that he’d closed the distance to make this conversation just... us. It felt personal in a way I’ve never experienced at a con or signing.  

Just like that, I wasn’t afraid to tell him what I’d wanted to.

“And as someone who related to... a lot of what Matt went through, his struggles in the show, and especially the dark parts of season 3,” I said, more confidently now, “I wanted you to know that all the work you put in, the way you played it, the way you played Matt and treated it seriously, seeing that helped me process and heal from a lot of my own trauma and pain over what I’ve gone through with my illnesses. What you did was important and it really helped me. So I wanted you to know that, how much that meant to me, and to say thank you.”

The whole time I spoke to him, he kept direct eye contact, and didn’t look away once. He didn’t get antsy, or look like he wanted me to hurry up (which I’d have understood, cause damn, these are long days for him). He listened, fully engaged and leaning in, his eyes warm and soft and kind but incredibly serious. I’m not sure how often he’s been told something like this—a lot, I expect; his portrayal was just that good, and I know it was important to a lot of fans—but what I was trying to tell him clearly meant something to him. I felt heard, seen, and understood.

Charlie really does care about his fans. It isn’t an act. I’m sure of it now.

“Thank you, truly,” he said, just as quietly but with that honest smile, eye crinkles and all, and seeing it in person, that close up, I swear the room felt ten times brighter. “Thank you for coming to tell me that. It means a lot, the idea that something I did meant so much and that it could help you. I’m so grateful that you were able to come visit and tell me.”

We shook hands after that. He wished me a good day and I told him thank you again, and that was that. The interaction only lasted maybe a minute, but it meant the absolute world to me, as did what he’s done as Daredevil. And now he knows that.

#Philly Fan Expo #Charlie Cox #Daredevil #he HELD THE THREAD ya'll #my fanfic author life is now complete #and honestly as a fan i don't know if any other experience will ever top those moments I got with Charlie #he is so so kind and warm and wonderful #the way he immediately stopped and gave me his full attention when i started to tell him what it meant #i just had to stop for a second and collect myself because just... #he was *listening* and despite all the noise and chaos i suddenly had his full attention #the way he leaned in so the conversation felt like it was just us and the way he cocked his head and focused on me like #i can't think of a single celeb or interaction like that where i've felt that much like what i was saying to him mattered #(that's not dissing the other actors and celebs i've met. they've all been wonderful! but charlie definitely has a special kindness i think) #and i can now say having been that close to him and having spoken with him over something fairly serious #he is literally one of the kindest celebs i've met and the most genuine #you can literally see the warmth in his eyes when he looks at you. he's *legitimately* happy you're there to talk to him or see him #maybe one day he'll find out about TRT. i'm honestly not sure #but even if he doesn't at least I got a chance to tell him how much what he's done has helped me heal #from a lot of really... really hard things in my life #and according to a friend (who I didn't even know was there but spotted me talking to Charlie from another line!) #Charlie did indeed stay until WAY late signing everyone's stuff so that no one missed an autograph #he said his estimation of Charlie just shot way up because even hours later he was still taking his time with each fan that came up #Charlie has absolutely solidified as my favorite actor and one of the nicest people I've had the pleasure of meeting

[megamett44-lover]

can you do the reader seeing matt with a little kid (around 5 or 6) and getting some crazy baby fever? thank youu <3

UGH I LOVE THIS

Matt Sturniolo x Reader

Summary: In which Y/n brings Matt to her family reunion

Warnings/Notes: She/her pronouns

Requested? Yes!

Dress Up

Bringing Matt home with me for my annual family reunion was insisted upon by my parents. My whole family absolutely adored him, always asking me to bring him around more. Hence why now, here we were, about a ten minute drive away from my grandparents home, where everyone would be meeting.

Having never met my extended family before, it was understandable for Matt to be nervous. He held my hand as he drove, lightly brushing his thumb over my knuckles every few seconds.

“You okay?” I ask, squeezing his hand lightly.

He looks over at me, trying to hide his nervous expression. “All good.” He says.

I nod, turning my attention back to the road. “You don’t have to stress, everyone is gonna love you.”

He chuckles. “If I can win your dad over, I’m sure I can do anything.”

I roll my eyes. “Please.” I say. “You never had to win him over. He was practically calling you ‘son’ before he even met you.”

“Right.” Matt laughs.

Siri breaks our conversation, telling us to turn left and our destination would be on the right. As we pulled into my grandparents drive way, a wave of nostalgia hit me. The long gravel path leading to an old white plantation house surrounded by the most beautiful flowers. I had helped my grandmother plant different flowers in her garden for many Summers when I was younger. The neatly trimmed hedges wrapping around the edge of the porch that my grandfather always insisted on keeping up himself because “nobody else could do the job right.”

I noticed many other cars parked out front, indicating a lot of my family members were already here. As we parked, I kissed the back of Matt’s hand. “Ready!” I asked.

“For sure.” Matt smiled.

As we walked onto the porch, the sound of laughter could be heard from inside. We didn’t even have a chance to knock before my grandmother opened the door.

“My Y/n!” She said, embracing me. “I’ve missed you so much!”

“Hi, Gran.” I say, returning her hug.

As we pulled away, she noticed Matt beside me.

“Now this must be the young man I’ve heard so much about.” She smiles at Matt.

“All good things, I hope.” Matt chuckles nervously.

I laugh. “Gran, this is my boyfriend, Matt.”

“Pleasure to meet you dear.” My grandmother says, embracing Matt as well. Pulling away, she smiles at us both. “Well come on, everyone has been asking for you.”

Walking instep with my grandmother and Matt slightly ahead, she leans in and whispers softly. “He’s handsome!”

“Oh, Gran!” I laugh.

“I’m serious!” She says. “If I was only 60 years younger, I’d give you a run for your money.”

As we walked into the crowded parlor, we were greeted by a chorus of “Hey” and “Welcome home”. A lot of family come up to me, since the last time I had seen most of them I was young. Most of them were eager to meet Matt, having heard I was dating a “famous Los Angeles boy”.

Excusing myself for a moment, I go grab a couple waters for Matt and I from the kitchen.

“Oh hey, Y/N.” My aunt says, seeing me enter. Her and a collection of other family members were working on tonight’s dinner, the smell immediately making me hungry.

“Smells great in here.” I compliment, grabbing two bottles of water from the fridge.

“Thanks!” She beams at me. “Oh, your cousins are around here looking for you. They wouldn’t stop talking about how excited they were to see you.”

I laugh. “I’ll keep a look out for them.”

My aunt and uncle had two twin girls, Charlotte and Katherine. They had just turned six and they were adorable. I had spent a lot of my youth babysitting them, resulting in me having an older sister relationship with the girls.

Walking back to the parlor, I notice most of the family had gone to the back yard. Scanning the yard, I cannot seem to see Matt anywhere. I grab my phone to text him, but then I hear giggling coming from down the hall followed by a deeper laugh that I recognize to be Matt’s.

Walking down the hall, I notice the light in the playroom is on. I hear a few voices coming from inside.

“We’re going to make you look so pretty.” I hear a young voice that I recognize to be Katherine’s says.

“Oh, really?” Matt asks.

“Yes!” Charlotte assures. “Y/n is going to love it!”

I peek in the doorway to the playroom to see Matt sat on the floor, with my cousins braiding his hair. I notice he has a few hair bows in, along with a feather boa around his neck.

I giggle softly, watching my cousins give him a makeover.

“Can we paint your nails?” Charlotte eagerly asks.

Matt looks down at his nails, the old paint peeling off of them.

“I think I’m in need of a manicure, so sure!” Matt agrees.

“Kat, grab the princess stickers and pink polish!” Charlotte demands.

Hearing this, I accidentally laugh too loud, giving my position away. All three of their heads whip in my direction.

“Y/N!” Charlotte and Katherine say in unison, running up and hugging my legs.

“Hi, girls.” I say, bending down to hug them. “I see you’ve stolen my boyfriend.”

“Don’t you think he looks pretty?” Katherine asks, motioning towards Matt.

“I think he looks gorgeous.” I say, making eye contact with Matt, who chuckles softly.

“We were going to paint his nails, do you wanna help?” Charlotte asks.

“Of course!” I say, eagerly.

“Yay!” Both girls say in unison.

Sitting down, we begin painting Matt’s nails a bright shade of pink, complete with princess stickers on every other finger. When we were finished, we slowly walk Matt over to the mirror to check out his new look.

“I look awesome!” Matt says, bending down to the girls level. “Thank you, girls.” He opens his arms for a hug, as both girls practically tackle him.

I smile softly, my heart warming at the sight.

“I think next time, we should bring our princess dress for you to wear.” Katherine says.

Matt laughs. “I think that would be amazing.”

“Yeah, but we have to bring the Cinderella dress.” Charlotte says. Katherine raises a puzzled eyebrow. “To match his eyes, duh!”

“What do you think, Y/n?” Charlotte asks.

“I think he would make a beautiful Cinderella.” I smile, causing Matt and the girls to laugh.

A loud voice interrupts our laughter from the kitchen.

“Girls, dinner!” I hear my Uncle call.

“Our dad wants us!” Katherine tells Matt. “But we’ll finish this makeover another day.”

“I’ll be counting on it.” Matt winks, ruffling her hair.

The girls laugh as they run down the hall to the kitchen. I look at Matt, who’s covered in glitter from the feather boa.

“I’ll be their Cinderalla, as long as I’m your Prince Charming.” Matt says, pulling the boa off.

I laugh. “God, you’re cheesy.” I grab his hands, looking at the pink artwork on his fingernails. “I can’t wait to have this life with you one day.”

He pulls me into a hug, covering me in glitter. “I promise, one day, we’ll have all of this.” He says. “Every day.”

I lean back, grabbing one of the braided strands of hair. “I’m really digging these braids, though.”

“Yeah?” Matt laughs.

“Yeah.” I smile, pressing a small kiss on his lips.

“Now c’mon, I’m starving!” I say, leading him to the kitchen.

Matt stops on his tracks. “What, dressed like this?” He asks.

I smirk. “What, you embarrassed?”

“Never.” He replies, putting his boa back on before we exit the playroom.

#matt sturniolo #chris sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #matt sturniolo x reader #matt sturniolo x you #nick sturniolo #nicolas sturniolo #sturniolo fanfic #sturniolo triplets #sturniolo triplets x reader #matt sturniolo imagine #chris sturniolo imagine #matthew sturniolo #nick sturniolo x reader #chris sturniolo x reader #sturniolo edit

[blitzyn]

shut up

childe x m!reader

request: none

a/n -> im sick and tired of winter WHERE IS SUMMER. help i wrote some of this in public so i had to stop myself from acting out some of the motions just to figure out how to write it lmao. guys i kinda made him a little mean i just got a little carried away oopsies. anyways one more non req and ill work on reqs i hope

wc -> 3.8k

cw -> very dubcon, hate sex, a lil bit of blood, anal sex, spit as lube, not a lot of prep, degradation, manhandling, throat fucking, asphyxiation, reader is a masochist, mean dom childe, spitting (in ur mouth like once), chokehold, prone bone position for like 2 seconds lmao, brief descriptions of fighting, reader offs someone cuz he felt like it kinda, it starts sorta abrupt tbh lol, not beta read

Childe fucking hated you. This was old news—absolutely anyone who had the barest idea who he was knew that. Everyone within a twenty meter radius could hear him arguing about something, and it never seemed to be about the same thing more than once. There always seemed to be something the two of you nitpicked about each other, throwing it out into the open which, more often than not, led to a fight with no clear winner.

There wasn’t anything anyone could do about it since the two of you were Harbingers. You were ranked tenth after Signora’s death and The Balladeer’s desertion, just behind Childe who was in ninth. But that didn’t stop you from riling him up relentlessly, even finding some type of enjoyment from his anger because you knew it wasn’t particularly common to see. Really, there wasn’t much of a power difference between the two of you other than the fact that you were less experienced.

As such, you were often assigned to missions together—if assigned meant that you simply joined him when you didn’t have anything important to do, much to his obvious displeasure.

This time, you followed him towards a hideout hidden between large rocks. It was simple, and you preferred that it wasn’t so easily accessible, but you supposed that hiding it in plain sight was acceptable for now.

“I don’t like how easy it is to find this place,” you commented, taking in your surroundings as if you were impressed by how large the area was compared to the small cave entrance. “It’s so obvious.”

Childe only offered you a grunt in acknowledgement, making his way past a few scattered materials on the floor. This wasn’t a facility that the Fatui used as much as before, but some machines were still operational and functioning.

“Ignoring people when they’re talking to you is rude, Tartaglia,” you chided, but you couldn’t care less that he wasn’t responding. “Besides, it’s not like you disagree with me. You wouldn’t want a poor, helpless child accidentally stumbling across this place while they’re playing a game.”

He glanced at you from the corner of his eye, and you could see him grit his teeth when he noticed the smug expression on your face. “Nobody’s gonna find the entrance. It’s been around for years and there hasn’t been a trespasser.”

“Really?” You hummed, nodding slowly to yourself. “If you say so.”

He eyed you warily, instantly skeptical of how quick you were to accept his statement. But that wasn’t important right now—he needed to retrieve some documents and collect money from a few debtors.

“Just… Just stay here. Don’t touch anything,” he instructed, unnerved by how you obediently sat on a rickety chair and watched him expectantly.

“Yessir,” you replied with a playful tone in your voice, crossing your arms over your chest comfortably.

He silently stared at you for a few moments. “What are you planning?” He blurted out, annoyed with the eyebrow you raised in question. “You don’t like listening to me.”

You rolled your eyes at his accusation. “I don’t really favor getting chewed out by whoever needs those papers, so hurry up and get what you need. I’d rather talk to the debtors, anyways.”

He didn’t move from his spot for a few more moments before hesitantly making his way toward an isolated room, seemingly accepting your response. You chuckled through your nose at his reluctance as you swirled your finger around, creating a small rabbit made out of Cryo. It was quiet and unassuming as it silently hopped around before you sent it out of the room, searching for any valuable items worth keeping as you waited.

You leaned back in boredom, shutting your eyes to focus on keeping the rabbit's form. You could feel a faint hint of interest radiating through you from your creation, cringing slightly at the smell of metal before you relaxed again. The rabbit was mid-search when an arrow whizzed past it, nicking its back. Quickly, it fled, leaving a trail of Cryo. The hunter cursed loudly and chased after it, but it wasn't long before it made it to its destination.

Curious, you released your focus on the rabbit as you stood up to pick up whatever it found. You looked up when the hunter suddenly walked through the cave entrance, slightly surprised to know that they hadn't stopped trying to go after your rabbit. The two of you stared at each other before you spoke up in mild disinterest.

"Can I help you?" You questioned, inspecting your find once again. It was shiny and had intricate designs on it, but ultimately worthless.

"Uh... Uh, yes! Yes, you can," they said after a moment, scoping the area in search of their nonexistent rabbit. "Have you seen a white rabbit run through here? Small, quick, and leaving some sort of trail behind it," they described eagerly, taking a few steps forward.

"I'm afraid you can't come in here," you said, raising a hand to stop them in their tracks. You analyzed them for a moment, taking in their appearance. They couldn't have been older than fifteen, with shaggy brown hair and tanned skin.

"Then why are you in here?" They countered stubbornly, crossing their arms. It seemed they forgot all about their hunt in favor of digging into your business.

"That's none of your concern," you replied, ignoring their questioning gaze above your shoulder. "If you don't leave now, I'll have to resort to force."

You bristled a little when you saw them roll their eyes. Too stubborn for their own good, apparently. "Yeah? Well, I'm the chief's kid. What's a weird-looking guy like you gonna do to me?"

You frowned, visibly offended. You stared at them for a moment before raising your dominant hand again, this time letting an icicle form on the tip of your middle finger before flicking it directly at them. In the blink of an eye, they went down with a loud thud. "Kill you," you replied to the body.

You walked up to them and lifted their head by their hair, examining the wound on their forehead with a hum. Blood leaked in copious amounts down their face, and you couldn't stop the grimace when some landed on your foot.

"Oh, shit," you hissed under your breath when you caught a better look at them. You wondered why they seemed so vaguely familiar to you when the realization suddenly hit you-the chief was one of the debtors. You pursed your lips before standing up with a shrug, placing a hand on your chin to ponder different ways to dispose of the body without tarnishing the Fatui's name even further. "I suppose I could just toss them in a lake? Or lure in a wild animal to eat them? Burning's too obvious..."

"What the fuck did you just do?" You heard Childe curse from behind you. You turned around to face him, eyebrow twitching in interest when you noticed his normally void eyes alight with fury. Honestly, though, you didn't quite understand why he seemed so upset. Maybe it was because of how transactions with the debtor may not go as smoothly as he wanted, or the fact that the person you killed was still technically a child.

"Someone found the entrance," you shrugged, unbothered by his reaction. "We don't want anyone finding important information about the Fatui, right? So I killed them. I told you it was easy to spot." You rolled your eyes like it was the most obvious thing ever, which only served to anger him. You tried to make your way past him deeper into the facility in search of something interesting to take when a sudden blur slammed your body into a wall. You let out a pained grunt, instinctively wrapping your fingers around the wrist where he pinned you down by your throat.

You knew he was ruthless when he needed to be, but you weren't given a chance to see it with your own eyes up until now. He was far from gentle, holding your delicate neck with such ferocity it made your skin tingle. It was exhilarating.

"Like hell they just conveniently found the entrance," he spat, his voice low as he glared deep into your watering eyes. "You deliberately lured them in here, didn't you? And for what? Because you were bored?" He refused to slacken the hold around your throat, internally finding that he preferred how you looked when you couldn't breathe.

"You—cough—You're much the s-same, Tartaglia," you strained out, trying to furiously blink away your tears. "Don't pretend you don't crave vi-violence, too."

You could see him grit his teeth just before he tossed you to the floor, watching you cough and regain your breath with disdain in his eyes. "No. Don't compare me to a fucking psychopath like you. I don't kill kids just because I feel like it!"

"To-may-to, to-mah-to," you groaned, rubbing your sore skin. You could still feel his hand around your throat, his grip burned into your flesh in a way that sent a familiar heat through your groin. He took a second to examine your body before zeroing in on the growing bulge between your legs, disbelief written on his expression.

"There's no damn way," he muttered to himself as if trying to convince himself you weren't aroused by him strangling you. With a growl, he stepped forward and harshly pressed a foot on your crotch, merciless with the amount of pressure he used. He watched in disgust as your hips jerked in response, frowning deeply at the pained moan you let out. "You're seriously turned on?"

"If it wasn't obvious—" You were unceremoniously cut off by a swift kick to your jaw, accidentally biting down on your tongue. You tasted the metallic tang of your own blood that originated from your mouth and your nose, wiping it away quickly. Your cock only throbbed with an increased fervor in your pants that strained for release against the fabric.

"Shut the fuck up," he snarled, staring down at you for a few moments, deciding what to do with you now that he had this newfound information in his hands.

"What's gotten you so upset?" You teased him, obviously not taking your situation seriously. You felt a pleasurable chill run down your spine at the fierce look he gave you, sitting up a bit in anticipation when you saw his hand stray down toward his pants, roughly undoing them.

"You just can't shut your mouth, can you?" He hissed, leaning forward a bit to grab a handful of your hair. He yanked you closer, forcing you onto your knees as he pressed the tip of his flaccid cock against your waiting tongue. "Fine, then. I'll shut it for you."

You hummed at the salty taste of his skin, raising your hands up to hold onto the swell of his muscular thighs. He groaned quietly when you dragged your tongue along a prominent vein on the underside of the shaft, looking up at him through your lashes. You let out a garbled moan when he forced you all the way down to the base, seemingly satisfied with the way you gagged a little.

Your nose was buried within his pubic hair as your throat tightened and spasmed, feeling yourself beginning to drool as the thick strands of saliva seeped out of the corners of your lips. You could hardly breathe, but you loved it. You loved the way he tugged on your scalp, starting to move his hips back and forth. You tried to contribute as much as you could, but the way you could feel his cock hardening sent a pleasant ache through your jaw.

"Fucking hell... You're not fit to be a Harbinger," he spat, holding you still as he reached down to swipe a bit of the blood from your nose to messily wipe it on your cheek. You couldn't see what he was doing, but the patterned swipes made it clear what he was writing.

S, L, U, T.

The word sent a jolt of electricity down your spine. You could feel your cock twitch in your pants, leaking a profuse amount of precum that served to stain the fabric. You let out a moan and slipped a hand underneath your clothes, jerking yourself off shamelessly.

He let out a breathy scoff at the sight, but he couldn't help the way his dick throbbed when your throat squeezed around him. "You're too good at this," he groaned, gradually moving his hips faster until he was fucking your face. "You don't belong in the Fatui. You're better off at a goddamn whorehouse."

He relished in the sound of your chokes and gags, finding that he preferred this much more than your voice. He let out a heavy sigh and shut his eyes, tilting his head back in ecstasy as he lost himself in the sensations. He was unaware of how you shifted your hand lower, using your precum as a subpar replacement for lube to push two of your fingers in your hole. You weren't in any particular rush as you leisurely pumped them in and out of you, adding in the wet sounds to your strained moans and ragged breaths. You were brought back to your senses when you heard him bark out a mocking laugh, squinting up at him through the tears that accumulated along your lashes.

"You're fucking pathetic," he muttered lowly, almost to himself, but you knew it was directed at you. "Is this—shit—all it took? You just needed a dick shoved down your throat, huh? Should've known you were such a whore," he demeaned, and you could only whine in response. Suddenly, he leaned a bit forward to press the sole of his shoe onto your aching cock, watching intently at the way you choked in surprise. "Maybe the rest of us should get a turn with you? Turn you into our little fucktoy? Our good-for-nothing cumdump?"

A grin made its way onto his pale face, turned on with the amount of control he had over you. His left hand slid lower, maintaining a firm grip on the junction between the back of your head and neck as his other one moved up to pinch your nostrils shut. He thrust harder, faster, shuffling closer when you tried to tilt your head away. He ignored your muffled protests and focused solely on getting himself off, letting out satisfied groans that you weren't fully there to appreciate.

It wasn't until you could hear a high-pitched ringing did he finally cum, shooting his load down your throat without a care for whether or not you could properly swallow it. He held himself there for a moment longer before he pulled himself away with a harsh shove to your body. You coughed and panted hard, taking a moment to regain your composure before looking back up at him, eager for more.

"Still not satisfied?" He questioned rhetorically. You both knew you weren't done yet, not when you found out how he could get when you pushed his buttons just the right way. "Stupid question, huh?" He huffed a laugh through his nose before roughly kicking you onto your stomach, dropping to his knees not a moment later. He haphazardly tugged your pants and underwear down in one go, ignoring the pained hiss you made when you felt yourself sandwiching your drooling cock between your abdomen and the floor. He spread your ass apart to spit on your asshole, shoving a finger inside you for good measure before jerking himself off using some of his saliva.

"Tartaglia, please—hurry," you whined, looking over your shoulder to meet his gaze. It was satisfying to see you in such a pitiful state, but the sound of your voice, although hoarse and raw, annoyed him.

"Be quiet or I'll leave you here like this," he snapped, giving your asscheek a quick slap before positioning himself over your hole. He rubbed the tip of it against your skin for a moment before pushing himself inside, groaning loudly at the feeling of you clamping down on him so perfectly.

It fucking hurt; after all, you only used two meager fingers to prepare yourself, and even then, you hadn't done much. It burned like he was tearing you apart but in the best damn way. The pain of being stretched out so mercilessly only mixed in with the insatiable fire in your groin, shooting jolts of electricity up your spine so intense you nearly came on the spot.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck! Tartaglia, please, you're so—!" You cut yourself off with a moan when he suddenly slammed himself down all the way, ramming the head of his cock against your sensitive prostate.

"I said shut up!" He demanded, pressing his hips down to grind against you. He wasn't as deep as he could go in this position, but he still managed to fill you up just right. You groaned when he leaned down, pinning you to the ground with his body weight as an arm snaked around the front of your throat, pressing it against you firm enough to restrict some of your airflow.

Instinctively, you raised a hand to grab at his forearm, digging your nails into the scarred skin in a futile attempt to get him to ease up. You could hear every sound that left his lips, every labored breath that brushed the shell of your ear. It didn't take him long to start moving, pulling out until only the tip remained before slamming back into you mercilessly. You could feel every inch and vein with each drag of his cock, your body jolting alongside his harsh thrusts, grinding your dick up and down on the ground.

"God... you're so damn tight," he muttered, picking up the pace. A low moan escaped his throat when he pressed against your prostate just right, ignoring your fleeting struggle.

It was hard to breathe. You could feel him everywhere around you all at once, and it didn't help that he fucked you hard enough to knock the breath out of your lungs. Your moans and whines were strained and hoarse, clawing at his arm, but you knew you didn't really want him off. Your body ached at his rough handling as wet slaps echoed through the abandoned facility, briefly wondering if anyone outside could hear, but you could hardly maintain your train of thought long enough for it to become a concern. He fucked you fast and rough, hips slamming against your ass hard enough to sting, but he didn't find it in himself to care.

"Tar-Tartaglia! Slow...—!" You tried to plead, beginning to find everything overwhelming when you cut yourself off with a squeal. He quickly shifted himself, leaning back to hold your throat with his hands as he pulled, forcing your back to arch uncomfortably.

"No," he replied, tilting his upper half over you just enough to spit in your gaping mouth. He felt you tighten in response as he relaxed his hold the slightest bit, feeling you swallow his saliva eagerly. "You wanted this. So you're gonna fucking take it."

The heat in your belly intensified to an unbearable degree, and with the way he practically filled up every crevice of your hole, you weren't sure you were going to last much longer. With one hand on your throat, he moved his other one down to spread one of your asscheeks to intently watch his cock move in and out of you. He could feel every twitch and shudder you made, and it satisfied him to know just how easy you were to break down despite your initial resistance.

"Fuck... I can feel you," he groaned, yanking your head back a bit to get you to look at him. "You're about to cum, huh?"

It was hard to find the right words to reply when he fucked every thought out of your head, but the panic in your eyes made it clear that you didn't want him to stop so suddenly. And although he wanted to see you beg like the whore you were, he needed to finish this quickly. He still had a job to do, after all.

"You're lucky I still need to collect some money," he growled, glaring at you with familiar disdain. "Otherwise I would've left you like this for hours."

With renewed vigor, he removed his hand from your throat to roughly push your face down by the back of your head, tugging your hips up to bury himself deeper inside your ass. You cried out in ecstasy as your eyes rolled back, making an attempt to withhold your orgasm when he wrapped his fingers around your throbbing cock, jerking you off in time with his punishing thrusts, but to no avail. Barely a moment later, you came with a loud moan, cumming so hard it left you lightheaded and dizzy.

He chased after his own release, giving you a few more rough thrusts before he stilled, burying himself as deep as he could go inside you. You could feel his thick cock throbbing as he filled you up with his cum, shuddering at the warmth before you slumped back down to the ground. He remained still for a moment longer, catching his breath while he watched you tremble. With a sigh, he pulled out, grimacing a little at the sight of his dick slick with fluids, but he tucked it back in his pants regardless.

"Get up. We have to hide the body and get to the chief before anyone finds out you killed his kid," he said impatiently, walking towards the hunter to inspect it.

"Just... Just bury them, or something," you suggested, taking a moment to calm down before pulling your pants up. Finding a reflective surface, you summoned a bit of your Cryo and melted it with your body heat to wipe away the crusted blood on your face.

"Eugh... I can feel your cum," you found the energy to complain, turning to face Childe with annoyance written on your face. The audacity.

"Shut up and let's go. We're already behind schedule after your bullshit." He scowled, picking up the body, already having decided what to do with it. At least it wasn't your problem anymore.

"Yeah, yeah, whatever you say," you said, quickly fixing your appearance. If it weren't for the slight limp in your gait, nobody would be able to tell he just fucked you within an inch of your life. Perks of being a Harbinger, you suppose.

cross-posted on ao3

#male reader insert #reader smut #reader #male reader smut #genshin impact smut #reader insert #male reader #genshin impact #x male reader #genshin smut #childe x you #childe x male reader #childe x reader #childe x reader smut #childe x male reader smut #childe tartagalia #gay #genshin x reader #x reader #bottom reader #dom character #sub reader

[simplysturn]

Road Rage❕

Reader x Matt Sturniolo

warnings: soft dom matt, praise kink, smut, unprotected p in v etc. mdni, this one isn’t for you.

𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧

“Fucking move! Jesus Christ!”

My boyfriend’s road rage today was more intense than usual.

“Baby, you ok?” I asked, slightly giggling at his frustration, finding it kind of endearing.

“This idiot just needs to get the fuck out of the middle of the fucking intersection!”

As his eyes focus on the road attempting to navigate us through the traffic, I find myself looking up at him, more like staring at him, with a shit-eating grin plastered on my face. Why is he so fucking hot when he’s mad?

Finally out of the traffic and onto the freeway, Matt lets out a quiet sigh of relief, snapping out of the agitated trance he was in just 10 seconds earlier. Stopped at a red light, he looks at me and catches me mid-stare. I hold eye contact with him, still smiling.

“What?” he slightly giggles.

“What do you mean what?” I softly laugh back.

“You’re staring, baby,” he replies as he turns his eyes back to the road.

I reach out and take his right hand and place it on my bare thigh. I’m wearing a skirt today. After placing his hand down, I feel a wet spot start to pool in my panties. Of course, just when we had a long drive ahead of us, Matt is unknowingly making me incredibly horny. The wetness between my legs only kept on growing as he started softly stroking my thigh.

I gently start guiding Matt’s hand down in between my thighs. I take it slow, trying not to distract him from the road, half hoping he doesn’t notice. Despite my attempt, he quickly catches on and starts flickering his gaze back and fourth between the road and me. As I help him slip his hand underneath my panties, he looks me up and down.

“Do you realise how fucking hot you are when you’re mad?”

He blushes and swallows hard, dipping his middle finger down to collect some of my wetness. He drags it back up, drawing small circles on my clit as I hold my panties aside for him.

“So this is because I had road rage?” He smirks.

“Mhm,” I half-moan in response as I reach my hand across his waist and start to unbuckle his belt, which he assists me with. I reach underneath his jeans and begin palming him over his boxers. Reacting to my touch, his eyes shut for just a moment, paired with a mostly silent sharp breath, and his jaw flops open. He looks so fucking good.

“I’m pulling over.”

He grips my hand that’s already moving on him and adds pressure, making me rub him harder. As he takes the next exit off the freeway, I unbuckle my seatbelt and lean down over his lap.

My boyfriend peers down at me and places his previously occupied hand gently on my head and runs his fingers through my hair, knowing full well what I’m about to do. I tug at the waistband of his boxers until he’s fully exposed. His now fully erect cock is pressing against his stomach, his tip red and leaking.

“Want your mouth on me, baby. Please.”

He nervously watches me as I reach down and touch myself, collecting some of my arousal before using it as lube to stroke him. I love that Matt still gets a little shy whenever I’m the one to initiate anything sexual.

“Fuck, that’s so hot,” he quietly mumbles to himself. Soft whimpers start escaping him as I place my lips around him and begin to gently suck on his sensitive tip, teasing him.

Matt pulls over into a secluded rest area and puts the car in park before turning off the engine. He eagerly unbuckles his seat belt and watches me, stroking my hair as I continue to use my mouth on him. We’re both moaning. I love making Matt feel good. His eyes are rolled into the back of his head as I pleasure him with my mouth. I can feel myself dripping with excitement, thinking about how badly I need to feel my pussy sink down onto him.

“If you d-don’t stop, I’m gonna cum,” he stutters. “Come up here and kiss me, baby.”

I replace my mouth with my hand and lift myself up to kiss him as requested.

As if he’s reading my mind mid-kiss, Matt wraps both of his arms around me tightly and pulls me over into the driver’s seat on top of him. Holding my body against him with his right arm, his reaches to recline the seat with his left. I start grinding myself against him with only my panties in between us, desperate for friction.

“Matt, I need you,” I whine.

“Let’s take these off,” he looks at me for approval. I nod and bite my bottom lip.

He hooks both of his thumbs underneath either side of my panties and slides them down around my ankles. I hover over his lap and align myself with him. He uses one hand to stabilise his aching cock against my slit and the other to hold my hip, helping me ease down until he’s fully inside of me. It takes me a moment to adjust to his size.

“You good, baby?”

"Mhm." I start riding him, and he responds, matching my rhythm. "Yes, Matt, that’s it. Fuck me, baby.”

Matt’s pace quickens and I’m desperately bouncing. He pulls at the hem of my shirt, and I instinctively lift my arms above my head. He throws my shirt aside and places his hands on my breasts, which were covered by a white, lacey bralet I had picked out this morning. I quickly remove his shirt in return. He starts leaving wet kisses across my chest and along the top of my breasts as we continue to fuck each other. He snakes his tattooed arm around my waist, running his hand up my back and smoothly unclasping my bra before returning his hand to my ass, guiding me and helping me ride him.

“You feel so good, so wet for me,” Matt moans.

I’m moaning, there’s so much I want to say, yet I can’t seem to form a single word. I’m consumed by the pleasure. “I-oh my god, fuck yes,” is eventually all I manage to get out.

“I know baby, doing so well for me. Taking me so well.” Matt praises me, which only makes me want more. “Look at me while I fuck you.” He demands softly.

I lock eyes with him. “I’m so fucking wet for you Matt. Holy shit,” I kiss him and he kisses me back, hard.

He briefly breaks the kiss, “Yeah? Am I making you feel good?”

“So fucking good, I’m so close.”

Matt quickly continues kissing me and moves his hands to my now bare breasts, squeezing them. My arms wrap around his neck.

“Your tits are so perfect, fuck,” he takes turns sucking on each of my nipples.

The pace shifts as I transition my bouncing into grinding, using Matt’s body to create pressure against my needy clit. My nails are clawing at his bare chest.

“You gonna cum for me baby?” He asks while reaching down to play with my clit to help me reach my high.

“Mhm, s-so close. Keep talking to me like that.”

“You look so pretty baby, using me to get off. So fucking tight around me.”

“Oh fuck, oh my god, I’m gonna fucking cum.”

Matt’s fingers are now at full speed circling my clit while I chase my high.

“Cum for me, baby. That’s it, cum all over me.”

“Fuck!” I cry out, moaning loud as I release all over Matt’s cock.

Matt wasn’t far behind, as I was coming down I felt him start to throb inside of me. My pussy was pulsing around him, practically milking him. “Fuck, baby, I’m cumming in you,” he softly moans into my ear, squeezing his eyes shut while they uncontrollably roll into the back of his head. As he begins to come down from his high, he starts placing soft, broken kisses on my lips, while squeezing my thighs.

We’re both breathing heavy, trying to catch our breath. We look at eachother and share a smile and a soft giggle, Matt still rubbing his hands up and down my thighs.

I help him pull up his boxers and jeans and he helps me pull my panties back up. I ask Matt to pass me my bra and my top. Once we’re situated, I reach for my water bottle and have a sip.

“Want some?”

He nods and takes a sip before placing the bottle back down and sliding his arms around my waist.

“You’re so beautiful,” he says quietly, holding my gaze.

I feel myself blush and initiate a slow, passionate kiss to thank him for his compliment.

“Should we get back on the road? Sorry for distracting you,” I say half jokingly. Matt rolls his eyes at me and we chuckle.

“I don’t think an apology is necessary, sweetheart.”

As I climb back over into my seat, Matt keeps me steady with a hand on my back, and then we both buckle up.

“Can I put some music on?”

Matt nods and passes me the aux. I put on our joint playlist and he starts driving.

“If I put my hand on your leg, will I have to pull over again?,” he jokes, placing his hand on me anyway.

“Should be fine. But if we run into traffic and you road rage again, I make no promises, Matthew.”

𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧

notes !

*this is my own original writing. i do not give consent for my work to be published outside of tumblr. i do not give consent for anybody to steal or claim this story as their own*

anyway ugh this is my first time properly writing a fic so i hope ya’ll enjoyed, i stayed up til 4am finishing this ur welcome 😭 ALSO i was gonna add these cute asf pics that match the vision i had in my head of this fic but it wouldn’t let me drag them to the top fml. if u have any requests send them in my asks and whenever i’m in the mood to write i’ll pick an idea from there !

#sturniolo triplets #sturniolo fanfic #matt sturniolo #matt sturniolo smut

[lawsvalentine]

How They Flirt • OP Men HC •

Characters: Luffy, Zoro, Usopp, Ace, Law

CW: slightly suggestive on some but overall fluff, bit of humor

Cee’s Note: Be honest ya’ll…..would you fold? 👀

Luffy

VERRRY touchy 👀

Mans is literally attached to your hip

If y’all are standing, he wraps his arms around you and holds you from the back

If y’all are sitting, he either has his arm over your shoulder or he’s resting his head against your chest

If y’all are lying down, he’s either laying on your stomach/ass or cuddling you

The funny thing is he does it like it’s the most normal thing in the world

Your in the middle of a conversation with the girls.

“Hey guys! What island are we heading to next?”

Luffy comes up behind you and wraps his arm around your waist. Despite your flustered face and the girl’s weird looks. Luffy carries on the conversation without a second thought.

Luffy is also very blunt with his feelings

You will not have to question whether he is into you bc trust me he will make it KNOWN

Nami had to knock him silly a couple times for blurting out something inappropriate

Zoro

Zoro is more lowkey with his flirting

He will playfully tease you by calling you princess and dollface just to start banter between you two

He finds it so hot that you challenge him and don’t back down from his taunts

He likes seeing how passionate you get when you too bicker

He sees you carrying something heavy

“I don’t think you can handle all that, princess.”

“I can handle myself just fine, tough guy”

PLS his dick is so hard for you sgdhdj

Even though you say you can handle yourself that doesn’t stop zoro from doing things for you

Not that he doesn’t think you can, but it’s just in his nature to want to protect you and help you

Despite all this, don’t expect him to confess his feelings first sgshdj

You will have to be the one to make the first move

Usopp

Mans will say every and anything to impress you shshdj

Just lying straight through his teeth about “being an expert” at whatever the hell you are interested in lol

If you suddenly pick up a hobbie for shell collecting, suddenly he is the shell connoisseur and will go out of his way to find shells for you

“This one is so pretty Usopp, thank you!”

“Oh please, this little one is nothing! You should see the massive collection of shells I have back at Drum Island. It will blow you away!”

This man….

He will also try and act like he’s so experienced saying he’s been with so many women when in reality the farthest he’s gone was a hug by nami sgshdjdj

If you play along and take him up on his offer to “rock your world” you will have him a flustered stuttering mess 😭

Ace

Ok let’s be real….

Ace got the best rizz out of all the men here sgdhhd

He is just naturally charismatic and charming without even trying

But ironically when he’s actually trying to put the moves on you he can be corny asl 😭😭

I’m talkin pick up lines corny shdhjd

“Does your feet hurt?”

“What are you-“

“Because you’ve been running through my mind” 😏

“…..” 🧍🏽‍♀️

He’s so…..

Let’s just say he’s lucky he’s pretty lol

Law

This man does not know how to flirt to save his life sgshdjjd

If you actually thought he had rizz be so fr 😭

Mans is antisocial and keeps to himself

But when he does have a crush he literally doesn’t know how to handle it sgdhdj

His way of flirting is trying to give you fun facts about anatomy sgshdj

“Did you know that the female body is naturally more flexible than men due to them having more elastins in their tendons”

“Ok…..good to know?”

PLS he’s such a nerd shddjj

He’ll also gush about his favorite comic if you show an interest in it so prepare for even more facts 😭

Just like Zoro, will absolutely not make the first move so you will have to literally spell it out to him that you like him sgdhjd

#one piece fanfic #one piece fanfiction #one piece headcanons #monkey d luffy headcanon #monkey d luffy fanfiction #monkey d luffy x fem reader #roronoa zoro headcanons #roronoa zoro x reader #usopp x reader #portgas d ace x reader #portgas d ace headcanons #trafalgar law x reader #trafalgar law headcanons

[samkerrworshipper]

begging for leah x it's a bad idea by olivia rodrigo. smut cause why not. boyfriend leah at its finest. and teammate references cause i love me some worried friends.

seeing her tonight, it’s a bad idea right?

leah williamson x reader

lighter smut, lots of fluff, little bit of angst, chelsea wfc x reader, admissions of love minors dni

When I’d heard my phone buzzing the last thing I would have expected was a missed call from her and a flurry of texts.

Leah

Come over? 10.15pm

Please, I miss you, I’m lonely. 10.16pm

Let’s have some fun 😉? 10.18pm

Here’s the new address if you didn’t already have it. Unit two Lower end Road Buckinghamshire. 10.21pm

I hadn’t heard from her in months, not since England beat Australia in the World Cup. I looked around the bar that I was sitting at with my friends and teammates, it was Friday night and we’d taken it upon ourselves to get our weekend started on a goodnote, the Chelsea girls knew how to party. I’m gradually getting myself fucked up and now I can’t get her out of my head, everything about it feels shameful. All I can think about is her, I thought we were done, thought we were through but I can’t help myself from looking down at the texts, she’s calling my phone and she’s all alone and I can’t even hear my own thoughts with the music thrumming through the space and the adrenaline rush that’s getting to my head as I think about her.

Seeing her tonight, it’s a bad idea right?

Fuck it.

I collect my things quite quickly, giving my friends all goodbyes, telling them that I’m not feeling well and I’m just going to get a uber home. Millie, Sam and Guro are all disappointed, Madga insists she’ll drive me home but I deny her immediately, telling her I’ll just catch a uber and that I don’t want to ruin the night for any of them. They all seemed slightly worried by my answer but had accepted it nonetheless, Sam insisting that she’d call the uber for me, which was slightly annoying but also a battle I knew I wouldn’t win, I was just going to have to direct the driver to Leah’s instead of mine.

She walked me out to the car, in typical older sister fashion, she’d adopted me as soon as I’d joined her at Chelsea and it was sometimes funny to me how overprotective she got. She walked me all the way to the car, checking that I had the right driver and making sure I had my seatbelt fastened before saying her goodbyes. The whole time I couldn’t stop thinking about Leah, my brain clouded over with the thoughts of her. Sure she might be my ex but can’t two people reconnect? We just saw each other as friends, right?

As soon as the driver starts to move the car in the direction of my apartment I redirect him to Leah’s apartment, she only lives five minutes away so I just decide I’ll tip him generously.

I can’t believe that I’m wrecking all my plans for her, I know I should stop, but I can’t. I told my friends that I was feeling sick and I was heading to bed but I never said who’s.

Before I know it ‘m showing up at your place, climbing out of the car and looking up at your apartment. Should I? Probably not. All that I can hear in my head is you though, we’re just friends is all I can tell myself but I also know that it’s the biggest lie I’ve ever told myself.

I’m walking up the stairs, to the second floor and before I know what I’m doing I’m knocking on your door and you're standing, smiling at the door.

Before I know she’s pulling me into the apartment and before I can even say anything because her lips are on my own. I don’t even put up a fight, letting her devour me just as I’d been dreaming about the whole way here. It’s just two people reconnecting, right?

Her hands are all over me, snaking up and down my waist and legs as she devours my mouth and neck with ease.

“Bedroom baby, not in the hallway.”

Leah nods eagerly, smirking as she pulls be with one hand down the entrance and quickly into her room, forcing me to trip and fall into her bed.

“Missed you.”

It was murmured against my neck as she continued her assault of the skin all over my body, I swore she was touching every single nerve ending in my body, it was like I was on fire, in all of the best ways. She always made me feel that way, I think that was why I always came crawling back to her even if I was just another one of her things for her to play with when she was bored and alone, at least it was the best sex of my life, every single time.

She took her time as well, tending to every single part of my body before she even dipped below my underwear, taking her time to stirp every layer of my clothes and to worship every part of skin that was revealed to her with another layer gone, I felt like a babushka doll, slowly being stripped down until I was just me. She knew she was good as well, knew just how well she knew my body. She was smug about it, in the disgusting boyfriend way that made me so giddy on the insides.

When she did eventually work her way down I was a trembling, moaning mess. My coherency was gone and all I could do was mutter Leah’s name and a trail of profanities that only she could ever make me produce.

Leah had stamina, an insane amount, she could go all night, she’d proven that to me in the past. I could sense that wasn’t going to be tonight though, something about tonight seemed softer, more delicate, less fucking out our feelings. It was poetic in a way that I’d never experienced with Leah and it sort of weirded me out, not enough to not enjoy the feeling of her tongue slowly descending down on my pussy, licking it’s way through my folds like she was fucking cat. My body reacted almost immediately, letting out more strings of profanities and moans, embarrassingly sinful groans that I was sure Leah’s neighbours could probably hear.

She didn’t stop until I was an incoherent mess, giving me orgasm after orgasm until I couldn’t even talk anymore. Using her tongue, fingers and my facourite vibrator of hers to have me at her mercy. Once I think I’d gotten to my fifth she decided I was done, I was floating on a endorphin cloud, and didn’t even really notice as Leah helped me into her covers and into her blankets and sheets. By the time she had gotten me under them though I’d managed to awaken enough that I was thinking straight and seeing. Leah was lying down next to me, still mostly clothed and as far as I was aware, untouched.

“Let me look after you?”

Leah was never a receiver, told me she found pleasure in seeing me in pleasure, which I loved but I also loved seeing Leah enjoying herself.

“You don’t have to.”

“I want to.”

With that answer Leah had nodded at me, her bottom lip between her teeth as my hand snaked under the covers and down her body, gently unclipping her bra and letting my hand snake further down and inbetween her own legs. She was soaked, dripping straight through her panties and it was pretty easy for me to make her come down with just my hand, pinching her clit and watching her face as she shook and squirted all over my fingers. By the time she’d come down we were both well and truly spent. It didn’t take long for Leah’s hands to wrap their way around my waist, twisting us up in her sheets into a pile of sweat and limbs.

“Missed you.”

Leah’s hands were busying themselves in my hair, massaging my scalp and tugging at my roots.

“Missed you too, Lee.”

My voice was murmured against her bicep, which my head was resting against, giving her easier access to my scalp. I could still feel the faint effects of the alcohol that I had consumed earlier, making me sort of giddy and warm on the inside. Nothing though could compare to the pure warmth of feeling Leah’s breath against my neck, brushing air up and down the sensitive skin.

“What were you doing, before I texted?”

“I was out with the team, getting drinks at the bar on James street.”

I knew that she knew the one I was talking about, I was fairly sure we’d been there together before, but I wasn’t completely certain.

“You left the team for me?”

There was a lot of insecurity in her voice. We were both extremely tied into our clubs, only having played for them and being die hard supporters of our clubs. I bled blue and her blood was Arsenal red, it was just how we were.

“I guess, what did you think I was doing?”

Leah’s hands continued their gentle rub of my head, she practically had me mewling in her arms.

“I guess I thought you were home or something, didn’t really think about it, figured if you were doing something that you would just ignore me.”

“You know that I would never ignore you right. I physically can’t.”

Leah’s hands stopped for a split second when the words left my mouth, not long enough for it to be highly noticeable though.

“I’m sorry I ghosted you.”

“You didn’t ghost me, ghosting is implying that I reached out to you and you have actively ignored me, we mutually discommunicated. It’s not like we’re dating or anything, you're under no obligation to text me.”

Leah’s hands began to slow, a clear sign she was thinking.

“Did you want to text me?”

It was a dopey question, so Leah like.

“Of course I wanted to text you Leah, I just didn’t know what we were and I didn’t want to make assumptions.”

“What do you think we are?”

I let the question hand in the air for a few minutes, contentedly relaxing into Leah’s fingers and thinking about the question.

“I mean Leah, it’s no secret that you make your way around. I always thought I was just another one of your girls that you call when you're feeling horny, I’m fine with that, but I’d be lying if I said that I hadn’t wanted more at some stage.”

I heard Leah exhale from above me, we’d always had a friends with benefits relationship, that’s always how I’d classified it.

“I love you, y/n.”

I froze up at those words, they’d been the very last thing I’d been expecting to leave Leah’s mouth.

“No you don’t, shut up, the endorphins are getting to your head.”

It was my defence mechanism, denial and refusal.

“Uh, I’ve got bad news for you, I think I do.”

Before I knew it she was tilting my head back fully, so I was looking at her in the eye and just one look at those brown orbs showed me the amount of sincerity that was held in them.

“What?”

I was so fucking confused, surely it was the alcohol, the scotch that I’d had getting to my head.

“I mean, I know that most of our relationship has been sex, but the mronigns and nights we’ve spent together have been amazing and I know everyone thinks that I work my way around but as soon as I started seeing you I stopped, because you were enough, but it’s not enough for me anymore seeing you once a month or whenever we can, I want you everyday. I want to wake up beside you, I want to have sleepy morning sex and breakfast in bed. I want you all the time, not when we can make it work.”

The sentence was ended with a peck to my forehead, it took everything in my power to not laugh at Leah because even though I knew she was being genuine there was something so funny about this whole predicament to me.

“Are you sure?”

“What do you mean am I sure, of course I am, I wouldn’t have laid my heart out like that if I wasn’t.”

Leah’s voice was full of exasperation, I knew it was taking a lot for her to make these admissions because whether or not she wanted to admit it she was a very guarded person and it took a lot for her to say something like that.

“That’s nice.”

Leah let out a snort, a big, loud snort that just make me smile.

“That’s nice? That’s all I get after laying my heart out?”

“I love you too?”

My words were muttered out between a litter of laughs and breaths as I watched Leah’s face contort into something of annoyance and adoration.

“Can you say it without it being a question?”

I licked my lips and smiled at her.

“What do I get if I do?”

“Will a kiss suffice?”

I bit my lip and smirked at her.

“I love you.”

I put as much into the words as I could, being rewarded with a soft kiss to my lips, both of our eyes were growing heavy and you could tell by the softness in the actions.

“Say it again.”

I rolled my eyes at Leah, reaching up and pressing my lips to hers between every word.

“I,” kiss “Love,” kiss “You,” kiss “Leah,” kiss “Williamson.”

I could feel her smirking against my lips and everything about it was right.

“Now that I’ve made it clear, I’m actually feeling quite tired so how about you give me some hugs and we go to sleep and maybe have that sleepy morning sex you mentioned when we wake up?”

Leah smirked at me, smugly, how she did when anyone talked about sex around her.

“I think I can do that.”

I’d moved onto my side and Leah’s arms had woven her way around my waist, essentially spooning me. It was so wholesome, so unlike anything that had ever occurred between us and before I knew it I was drifting off in Leah’s arms.

I was awoken unhappily by the sound of my phone ringing madly from beside us. I picked it up quickly, before I could get a look at the caller ID, too worried that the sound would awaken Leah. I was lucky she was a deep sleeper. I very hastily pressed the phone to my ear, to be met with the voice of my adoptive sister/mother.

“Where the fuck are you?”

I probably should have expected this call.

“What do you mean?”

“I just got home, you’re not here.”

Fuck.

“I’m with a friend.”

I heard Sam’s growl from the other side of the line.

“You said you were sick, why the fuck are you with a friend?”

I didn’t really have an answer to that question.

“I’m safe, I’m fine, I’ll see you tomorrow.”

I hung up the phone quickly, placing it back down on the bedside table and sliding myself back into Leah, tangling our limbs back together and slotting myself back in next to her.

“Who was it?”

Leah’s voice was full of sleep and I was sure she hadn’t even opened her eyes.

“Sam.”

Leah nodded against me, clearly content with my answer.

“What did she want?”

“Wanted to know where I was, I told her I was sick when I left the bar and I guess she got home and wondered where I was. She sounded like she’d had a few drinks, she probably won’t even remember by the time morning rolls around.”

Leah nodded again, I could tell she wasn’t fully awake and didn’t intend on becoming fully awake.

“Go back to sleep, we’ll sort it out in the morning.”

I let myself relax back into Leah’s body, relaxing into her warmth and the safety she offered and letting myself fall back to sleep in her arms.

I would have loved to have said that I awoke to sleepy, morning kisses and sex. I didn’t. I woke up to the sound of somebody pounding on Leah’s door. Both Leah and I shot up in the bed, her jumping up quickly and finding a discarded pair of boxer shorts and an oversized shirt very quickly and me locating my pants and shirt from the night before and throwing them on quick enough to see Leah sliding out of her room and down the hall. I managed to duck my head out just in time to see her open the door and see who was waiting behind it, silently shitting myself when I saw the four women pushing past a very shell shocked Leah.

Millie, Magda, Pernille and Sam were the four last people I wanted to see in this circumstance and place.

“Sure, just let yourselves in, no worries guys.”

There was insecurity hidden behind her words, as much as she tried to make them sound confident.

“What the fuck are you all doing here?”

My voice was close to a shriek, it was 6.30 in the morning for fucks sakes and yet they were all here, looking as bright as daisies in Leah’s apartment.

“You told us you were sick, Sam got an ominous call from you, we looked at your location, it said you were here, so we came to check up on you, see how that sickness was going. Seems like you’ve found yourself a carer in our absence though. I wasn’t aware you two were acquainted, good morning Leah, good to see you getting out of your shell.”

Leah and I both looked at each other and then back at Millie, she could be down right scary when she was mad or annoyed.

“I’m feeling much better.”

There was sass behind my words that I knew wouldn’t slide with the group.

“I think you’d both better get to explaining, fairly quickly, before we all start to make assumptions.”

I smirked at Sam, it was all going to happen in due time I supposed, and there was no way of trying to worm out of this situation so what was the harm in telling a few people. I looked at Leah for assurance and when I saw her nod at me I started talking,

“Leah and I have been in a situation for a few months now, on and off since around the olympics I think. Nothing commitment, just friends with benefits. She texted me last night and I decided I wanted to go see her, so I told you all I felt sick and I headed over to her house. I’m sure you can piece together with your own heads what happened between then and now.”

I waved my hand nonchalantly at the group that was congregated in Leah’s kitchen, they were my family, Magda and Pernille were Millie, Sam and I’s parents and we were all sisters. Magda was the bad cop, because she never let anything slide and was always onto us about anything. Pernille the good cop, always sending us smiles and little graces that we loved her for. We loved the both equally, for the different things they both provided. I knew Leah had a similar relationship with Kim Little, who was like her Arsenal mom, she was probably going to be the next person we would have to face about this.

“What the actual fuck?”

Sam’s voice piping up didn’t surprise me, out of all of them she was the most protective of mek being my National captain as well we spent a lot of time together, she was my best friend in the entire world.

“Samantha, watch that language.”

Sam gave Magda and eyeroll before turning back to Leah and I, Leah who was now standing beside me in the doorway of her room, the room we had previously been sleeping in, something I missed quite largely.

“You’re telling me that you two fucking rabbits kept this a secret for like three years and now you’re telling people, what the actual flying fuck.”

Magda’s hand was squeezing Sam’s bicep and I was a little bit scared for Leah’s safety if that hand Magda had secured slipped.

“Well the circumstances between us have changed, slightly.”

Leah nodded in agreement with my statement, clearly she was trying to help present a united front.

“Leah and I are dating?”

The words felt weird leaving my mouth, but Leah’s nod from beside me gave me the impression that they were the right words and it made me sort of warm on the inside, like drinking a cup of hot cocoa in the middle of winter and feeling it seep into your bones.

“Well, I’m glad we’ve sorted this all out, we’ll leave you both to it, although don’t think we won’t be having words about this y/n, we will be. Besides that I think it’s time we leave, sorry for disturbing you both, sorry for breaking into your apartment Williamson, I’m sure we’ll see you around now. We’ll see you later y/n/n.”

Magda’s voice was strong, it was an order for the rest of the group to leave and for some reason, they did, the four of them blushing, speechless messes as they filed out of Leah’s apartment without any words besides some hushed goodbyes. As soon as the door closed both Leah and I were erupting in laughter.

Seeing her last night maybe wasn’t that bad of an idea? right?

#woso #woso community #lionesses #leah williamson #sam kerr #arsenal wfc #chelsea wfc x reader #chelsea wfc #marry me rn #magdalena eriksson #millie bright #pernille harder

[hellfire--cult]

Banner and dividers by me

Hook!Eddie x Fem!Reader

Inspired by the many flicks: Peter Pan (Disney, 1953), Hook (1991) and Peter Pan (2003)

WC: 15.7k

Warnings: +18 Heavy depictions of depression and loneliness, mental health, sui*cidal thoughts, a lot of angst, amnesia, lots of fluff, pining, slight enemies to lovers, kissing and sex insinuation, also you will cry.

Summary: After your Grandmother's passing, you were left with her immense wealth and her big mansion, yet your loneliness didn't let you enjoy this new life, but before you could even begin living in it, you were snatched away, into the second star to the right, by a Captain who has a hook as a right hand.

A/N: I couldn't write anything that wasn't this. I am so sorry if this hurts you, but I just couldn't stop writing. I watched the 2003 flick and the music simply inspired me and I couldn't stop myself. I hope you enjoy this One Shot, AU thing, and I hope to write requests or little one shots of this couple in the future 😘

Please support me by hitting that Reblog button! 💚

Hooked On You

You were in this situation again.

Decisions. 

Loneliness consumes you in every way possible, the massive marble walls, the columns around every room in the house, or should you say Mansion. This is not something you wanted or desired, but it fell on you and now the things seem too uncontrollable for you to handle. 

It had no debt, it was well kept, it was tidy, with every room filled with furniture that will collect dust in the next few months, days, hours, minutes and there was no way to stop it because you do not want to waste your inheritance in cleaning services. 

But no money, no mansion, nothing would compare to the one thing that mattered the most to you. The only person to ever be in your life despite it all, the one person that took you in when your mother decided you were not good enough, the one person that cared enough for you and even loved you as her own.

Your grandmother.

This was your childhood home, the one you spent days running around, playing hide and seek with her until she couldn’t walk no more, the one where you invited friends over to your pool, the one where you stayed until you turned 21 and decided on your own place, your own space. Now, you regretted ever leaving. 

You talked with your grandmother, everyday on the phone, video calling her, and you knew you had just one another. It was just you two, against everything and everyone. You never knew that one day she would decide to go, by her own accord, sleeping peacefully on her bed. She didn’t have any illness, just weakness in her bones. 

And she left everything to you.

Your grandmother had investments, actions, properties, she had it all, ever since a teenager she knew how to handle money well, but it was never about that. You preferred your grandmother’s baked pies rather than a new Barbie. You preferred your grandmother’s casserole over a new car, despite her buying you one at 16. You preferred your grandmother’s company, rather than a big party with friends from school who only wanted to be your friend because they knew you had money.

But now, it was all meaningless. It’s been two months since your grandmother’s departure, and this is the first time you would step into the house after everything had finally been settled with legal papers, a cleaning service leaving everything in impeccable state for you to move in.

What are you gonna do here all by yourself? 

7 bedrooms, a dining room, a living room, a playroom, a kitchen, 3 bathrooms, 3 guest bathrooms, two floors, a pool, a huge backyard, and you were all alone in it.

All alone.

You looked all over the front of the massive staircase, deciding it was time to take your suitcase upstairs and settle in. Your heart aches with the thought of selling the house, because too many memories lingered in here, way too many that now turned into sad ones. 

You opted for the second master bedroom, nicely decorated with a king sized bed, a big closet on one side and a vanity on the other. A 55” inch screen TV was on the wall, right above a dresser, in front of the bed. Your grandmother seems to have wanted to make the house a little bit more modern, changing the wooden walls with paper, to creamy tones, and delicate touches of wood and gold on the ridges at the bottom. Now technology pieces could be found in every room, and in the living room.

You dropped the suitcase on the floor, and sighed heavily, putting your hand on your forehead. You kneeled to the front small pocket of it to retrieve your xanax pills, the painkillers you got after the news of your grandmother’s passing. You looked at your watch and saw it was already 7 PM, so you didn’t really care if you went to bed early. 

You stood back up and a tug in your heart made you walk out of your new room, the silence of the house engulfing you entirely as you walked the hallway to the room that was on the other end, passing by all the other ones and turning corners. 

Your heart was beating loudly, going into your throat as you turned the knob of the room, opening it slowly.

She never touched it. 

She didn’t do anything to her room. Her bed was still in the middle of it, the massive window at front, unlike yours that had two smaller ones on each side of the TV, and hers had a balcony even. Her bed had the same comforter you always loved, a pink floral one. The smell of the room was entirely her. The perfumes were still on her vanity, as well as her vintage makeup, a small library was next to her dresser that had a flower pot on top. Night tables on each side of the bed with their respective lamps.

You walked in, listening to the wooden floor creak under your feet and you sat on the bed, springy, just like you remembered. You bit your bottom lip as the lump in your throat got bigger and bigger but the tears would not come out. They never did. Not even when you received the news, not even at the crematory, not even when they gave you the deed.

Only panic attacks. Because you had realized, you were all alone.

You had no one. No family, no friends, no lover. Not even if you had tried to rekindle your relationship with your mother, who threw you out, at only ten years old, when your grandmother didn’t send in the money on time. No friends because your trust issues forbid you of it, and no lover because the last one you had was a leech for your money.

You looked down at the small orange flask that contained the pills inside. You got up and walked towards the bathroom, retrieving a glass from one of the cabinets and filling it with water. You opened the container and looked inside.

Decisions. 

Always the same critical decision.

One? Two? Three? The whole flask?

Who would miss you? Nancy? She is just an acquaintance that you go out with sometimes. Robin? Just a friend of Nancy’s, she doesn’t consider you her friend, no matter if she sends you funny videos or invites you to hang out with her at her house. 

Your mother? Who tried to contact you after hearing about her Ex’s mother passing and didn’t hear anything about a deed? Hearing nothing about her share? No, she only missed the money and the things it could get her.

You opened the cap and lingered there. Loneliness is the only thing present in your mind, in your heart, in your whole being and no money can fix that. Nothing can mend it.

Yet you take one single pill out, closing the cap again and putting it inside one of the pockets of your jacket. You chug the pill with the glass of water and look at yourself in the mirror. Your grandma’s eyes, not your mother’s, not your father’s, but your grandmother’s. You sighed as you stepped out of the bathroom, looking towards the hallway that would lead to your new room.

Yet you decide to go back into your grandmother’s bedroom. You sat on the bed, memories flashing in front of your eyes as you slowly closed them, remembering the bedtime stories she would tell you for you to fall asleep, right here on her bed. You smiled as you laid down on the springy bed, legs still hanging off of it.

“Grandma, Grandma!” You jumped on her bed after running into her room with tears in your eyes. She was reading a book, propped up on the bed, pillows behind her back to keep herself comfortable and her glasses resting on the bridge of her nose. She was startled by you, and the movement you provoked on her bed.

“You scared me dear!” She giggled as your 10 year old self hid under the covers right next to her.

“I had a bad dream…” You sniffed loudly as your Grandmother put her book on her night table as well as her glasses. She pulled the covers off your face to reveal tear stained cheeks that looked up at her. “Can I sleep here?”

“Of course you can love. You know I always enjoy you sleeping here with me.” She softly replies as she scoots closer to you, and you sit up, hugging her waist and your cheek rests on her chest. She wraps her arms around you, rocking gently from side to side, but you are wide awake. There was no chance for you to fall asleep.

“Tell me that story again Grandma!” You yell excitedly, looking up at her. She shakes her head with a laugh, looking down at you.

“Again? I recall telling you that story not many nights ago, little one.” You giggled at her answer and shook your head, a smile on your lips.

“I forgot about it, I want to hear it again!” You counter back at her and she sighs, scooting you closer to her.

“Alright… Listen close, okay?” You nodded and rested your chin on her chest as you looked up at her. “When I was young, around your age, I met a boy. A boy who came right through that window.” She pointed at the huge balcony that was in front of her bed, the windows open for the summer breeze to go right in.

“Was he cute?” You asked and she glared slightly at you, making you close your mouth for her to continue.

“He was. His name was Peter. Peter Pan. He flew inside my room, telling me I needed to help him get his shadow back. I really thought this curly headed boy was crazy, until I saw a small thing, coming through the window and flying all over my head. A fairy of some sort, and her name was Tinker Bell.”

“And was she pretty?” You asked with sparkles of amazement in your eyes, and she nodded with a smile to her face.

“Really pretty. She put pixie dust on my head and Peter took me flying, all over the city to help him get his shadow back. When we couldn’t find it, he asked me if I could help him find it back in his home. Little me, looking for adventure, wanted nothing more than that, so I followed him, to the second star to the right, up in the sky.”

“Into the sky?!” You yelled in excitement and she giggled with a nod. 

“Soon, I was before an island, and I met three more boys, who were all living with Peter, in the middle of the woods. They were called The Lost Boys.”

“They are lost?” Your grandma looked towards the window with a distant look on her face and shrugged at you.

“They do not remember how they got there in the first place, but they didn’t mind, because there was a game they always played, a game with a bigger man. A man that had a hook instead of a right hand, a pirate, a captain. This man wanted to capture them, but the boys all treated it as a joke, like a little game of cat and mouse.” Your eyes started feeling heavy as your grandma kept going with her story, a yawn escaping your lips.

“What’s his name Grandma?” You asked before slumber took over you, and you could hear the distant voice of your grandmother softly whispering.

“His name was Captain Hook.”

The painkiller was starting to do its effects in your body, your eyes completely heavy under your eyelids as you remembered that story. 

Your grandma always had a big imagination, sometimes she read stories from books, sometimes stories from someone else, and sometimes she would invent stories, just like that one, from her own head. 

Your body sank into the mattress, and you knew you would fall asleep at any time now. You were wishing you wouldn’t dream of your grandmother while you were at it, because that would make tomorrow’s decisions a lot harder. 

Your skin suddenly grew goosebumps from a sudden cold that invaded the room, but maybe it was a side effect from the painkiller. Your eyelids were too heavy for you to open and you really did not care that much to do so, a little breeze never made you sick. The night had simply gone colder, that was it. 

Your hazy mind was slowly drifting away, the sound of a click in the distance, as well as some heavy boots walking on the wooden floor, creaking. A dream, you were already dreaming, because then you felt the tip of something sharp, along your cheek, but it was gentle, almost a caress. 

And then, silence.

Warmth. You felt so warm right now. You must have gotten into bed in the middle of your sleep,  because you just remember laying flat on the mattress, but now you were cozy under some comforters, sighing with relief at the warmth under them.

You could feel the sun coming from the window. Then some chirping, every now and then, and you just wanted to lay in bed, in this comfortable bed a little while longer. The birds were singing against your window, as well as seagulls calling each other while they flew by, the hit of waves splashing soothing you and–

Seagulls?

Waves?

And the comforter… The comforter smelled like… a man’s scent.

Your eyes shot open, the first thing seeing was the wooden cabin you were in, sitting up instantly as your heart beat anxiously in your chest. The bed you were in was double sized, big, with red fur comforters and blankets, and big pillows behind you. You looked around, seeing a very old desk on one side, with a chair and some papers on top. Your breathing starts picking up a pace as you instantly shoot out from the bed to look out the window.

You screamed bloody murder as you saw the sea.

The door flew open and you looked at it to see a man, brown hair with a red bandana on his head, freckles on his face, brown eyes, with a striped shirt and brown shorts. He was gorgeous but he was a fucking stranger, so you looked around to grab the first thing you could find.

A sword. 

What the actual fuck? You didn’t even hesitate to point it at him but you were doubting your sanity at this point. Did the painkiller make you hallucinate shit now? Was it because you didn’t eat? Were you still asleep? Did you take one or two? The sword was heavy in your hands, this dream being the most realistic in your whole life.

“Um–” The man put his hands up, looking out the door. “Captain! She’s awake!” You heard him yell and that’s when you heard the heavy boots walking, right on top of you, making you look up. You followed the sound, moving your head as you now heard the steps going down some stairs, thump after thump.

“Yes, I heard her alright Smee.” You heard another man talk, and he walked through the door, his big red hat first, with feathers on top, a red cloak all over him with golden details and gun belts around his waist. He raised his head up, and your breath got stuck in your throat at just how handsome this man was.

Were you this lonely that now you had a pirate fantasy of some sort?

His curly black hair falling over his shoulders, and his mustache and beard covering his face. Brown eyes that were as deep as an ocean looked back at yours, as a smirk formed on his lips, seeing the sword you were holding in your hands. Your knees slightly buckled at the sight but you kept the weapon pointed at the two men.

“Now, now… No need to be so aggressive.” He says, keeping the grin on his face and you gulped, shaking your head.

“This is just a dream anyways, at least I’m going to protect myself in it!” You yell at him and he raises an eyebrow at you, tilting his head to the side, until he finally smiles and starts laughing out loud, making you frown in a state of absolute confusion.

“Smee! She thinks she is dreaming!” He continued laughing and your brain started working again as Smee started laughing with his ‘Captain’. Where did you hear that name before? Suddenly the black haired man stopped laughing, prompting his crew mate to stop as well. He took a step towards you, getting the sword in between the both of you and your eyes widened when he raised his arm up.

A hook was placed on the blade of the sword, pushing it aside. A hook where his right hand was supposed to be.

“No need to be feisty Wendy. Not today.” He sharply says and you blinked up at him, shaking your head slowly. No, wait, this is because you remembered your Grandmother’s story before completely passing out. That’s it, that’s definitely it!

You dropped the sword and looked at the desk, seeing that the papers were actually maps. You rushed towards it, getting hold of a compass, and before Smee could snatch it away from you, you stabbed yourself with the sharp end on your arm. You yelled loudly in pain, throwing it away from you, seeing the small prick you did on your skin, with a drop of blood oozing out.

“Captain, I think she is crazy.” You hear Smee talking but you were still looking down at your arm. The pain didn’t wake you up, in fact, it felt too real. The blood is too real. The cabin is too real. The two men in the room are too real. Your head looked out of the door, which was still open, and it let you see the light shining through it.

You slowly walked towards the door, seeing the light of day coming into view, and before Smee could stop you, his Captain didn’t let him, putting his left hand up to hold his stance and let you roam out.

The smell of sea and the sound of seagulls invaded your senses, and then the sun hit your eyes as you took the final step, up on deck. On deck. On a ship. On a pirate ship. Wind blew through your hair as you put your hand over your eyes to cover from the sun, and there it was. An island, there was land, but no buildings, no cities, no houses. 

You looked up towards the sails of the ship, the main mast, the foremast, the shrouds, the delicate carvings on the wooden rails of the ship. The cannons on each side, but no other crew but the two men you just met. You walked down one of the stairs that were on the side, towards the middle of the ship, and everything was just too real, everything became real.

Because it was.

Fuck, it was real. You were on a pirate ship. In a fucking pirate ship, with men that your grandmother told you about in her stories. Fictional men, or men you believed were fictional, but are real? Does this mean your grandmother met them before?

“Wendy, I thought you would remember your stay here. Guess I was wrong.” You hear the man behind you and you turn around sharply, gulping heavily, a frown present on your eyebrows.

“I don’t know who Wendy is… Please take me home…” You voice out, in a frightened voice. You didn’t know where you were, you had an idea of where you might be, but you didn’t want to believe it, not for a single second. If this is a dream, then you were sure you took more than one painkiller this time and you just simply don’t remember.

“No need to play stupid Wendy, years may have gone by for you, but you’re unmistakable.” The man with a hook as a hand walked closer to you, as you stepped back one step, then two, your heart yelling at you to run, but where? There is water all around you, and you don’t even know what’s in it. There might be sharks, and if you remember correctly, crocodiles appeared in your grandmother’s story–

Your grandmother.

Your eyes widened and you could see the captain smiling widely under the shadow of his hat, giving you a nod.

“Yes. Those sharp eyes that looked at me with pity.” He says almost with venom in his voice and that’s when it all clicked.

It was all real. Your grandmother’s story, your grandmother’s adventure with Peter Pan and the lost boys, your grandmother who got captured by Smee and brought onboard of the ship. The ship that had a captain at the steering wheel. 

Captain Hook.

“Holy shit…” You manage to blurt out and Smee’s eyes widened, looking at his captain as he looked back at his crewmate with a surprised look on his face, almost amused.

“Potty mouth you turned out to have Wendy.” You inspected the man before you, and remembered the story once again. Peter Pan had come to save your grandmother, along with the lost boys, but there was a piece of the story you remembered vividly. She had told you that the Captain didn’t look evil, or that held any malice towards the boys.

He just looked lonely. 

When Peter and the boys finally brought your grandmother back to the island, she had said something to them, something you cannot remember now, and you always remembered this story, it was always in the back of your head whenever you went to sleep, but now your memory was failing you.

One thing was certain.

“I am not Wendy.” You say with a glare in your eyes, even if frightened, but you held your ground. Hook simply chuckled at you incredulously, and shook his head, pointing his hook at you.

“Who are you then?” 

Your mouth opened and closed again, voice leaving you completely. Your name. Why don't you remember your name? You knew it before, and now you just don’t remember it anymore. Panic was crossed on your features at the realization, and your head started to spiral, breath cutting short, and the world was simply starting to spin.

Voices started going off in your head, warning you to run away, nothing is real, that you were no one right now, that there was no way you could survive here, and the same word repeated again. Alone, alone, alone, alone, alone.

“Captain!” Smee yells as he rushes to your side as you tumble to the ground, your breathing heavy as you choke for air, clawing at your chest. You need air, but there was plenty, all around you, but the oxygen was not going into your windpipe, no matter how hard you breathed, no matter how hard you were trying, it just wouldn’t calm down.

Hook took off his hat, dropping next to you as he propped you on his left arm, and with his hook, he put the hat on your head to shield you from the sun. He knew what was happening to you. Many nights he went through this same process, clawing at his chest in the middle of his sleep, wanting something, wanting to remember, but all he got were blank memories.

“Listen to the waves, to the breeze against the sails, to the creak of the boat as it rocks on the sea. Feel it, look up at the wide sky, the clouds slowly moving, and follow them.” You did as told, trying to focus your sight on just one cloud as your chest heaved up and down, trying to regain some control over your breathing.

The cloud moved, it was moving, and you followed it with your gaze, not realizing that your focus was now on that movement rather than trying to get your breathing back at a normal pace again. Slowly, it did, and when you realized that oxygen was getting inside your lungs again, you took a deep breath in, and out again, and repeated the action, finally noticing the shade that was covering you, feeling the heavy hat on your head.

Your focus first was on Smee, who had a worried frown on his eyebrows, his deep brown eyes full of concern. He has seen these episodes on his captain, but he never required help from him, just a jug of water afterwards. So he got up and did just that, running towards the kitchen under the deck. 

Your eyes landed on another pair of brown ones, now seeing his features perfectly without the hat on his head. His eyes didn’t judge you, not in the least, as he held you with his left arm and you realized the closeness of the both of you. You tried to move, feeling your throat completely dry but something sharp on your cheek stopped you. Your eyes widened when you felt the tip of his hook on the plushness of your cheek.

“If you’re not Wendy… Who are you?” He asked, sternly, yet now without any venom in his voice, as if truly believing you are not the person he claims you to be. You blinked as tears welled up in your eyes, slowly shaking your head.

“I– I don’t remember…” You quietly replied to him, and he just stared down at you, his eyes twitching in thought until you both heard Smee’s steps coming back up. He dropped on his knees next to you, handing you a jug of wood, filled with water. You sit up, and immediately chug it down, feeling the freshness of it going down your throat. 

Both men looked at one another and the Captain shook his head at his crewmate, Smee letting out a sigh out of his lips, before worry crossed over his features. Hook looked at you and almost let out a small smile at how ridiculous you looked with his big hat. Too big for your head. 

You finally put the jug down, and looked forward towards the island. The fact that you don’t even remember who you are, actually made your nerves calm down, even if a tiny bit.

“Where am I?” You asked them and Smee began talking.

“You’re in Neverland.” You never heard that name before, turning to look at him.

“Neverland?” There was a panging in your chest though, something that was telling you that you shouldn’t be here, that this was not your place to be. “Can you take me back home?”

At that Smee winced, looking down at the floor. The Captain sighed, making you turn your head towards him with a worried look on your face. You were not liking the reactions you were getting from them at the mention of ‘Home’. Wherever that is.

“The only way to get you there, is by flying.” He says and you were staring at him as if he was demented of some sort. “Pixie dust. It makes you fly.” 

“P-Pixie dust?” You ask again, not really digesting the words you were saying because it sounded so unrealistic but at the same time they didn’t. Hook nodded at you and then glared at Smee.

“But someone! Let Tinker Bell out of her lamp because he believed she needed to spread her wings.” Smee rolled his eyes, crossing his arms over his chest.

“It’s not my fault! She was very persuasive!” The brown haired man tried to defend himself and your head was going back and forth on the both of them, like a ping pong match. 

“She is a fairy, and we needed her captive in case this… shit happened.” Your eyes widened at the curse coming out from the captain. Didn’t he call you a potty mouth before?

“Fairies create Pixie dust. We used hers in order to bring you here with us.” Smee continued, looking down at the floor, and the puzzle finally assembled in your head. That fairy is gone, whose name sounded familiar, but it was your way out of the island. The heavy pang in your chest from the anxiety you were feeling was almost hurting you as you gulped heavily.

“S-So…? I’m going to stay here? Forever?” You ask and look straight into the captain’s eyes. He was looking at you already, and his pupils connected with yours, feeling your anxious feelings and your worry. He shook his head and gave you a sigh.

“As far as we know Tinker Bell still thinks you are Wendy, and Wendy was a dear friend of Tinker Bell’s friend. As soon as he comes to your rescue, we’ll snatch her again.” He says too confident in himself and you scrunch up your eyebrows, looking at him.

“And I wonder how long it will take for her to fly away again.” Your snappy attitude made him stare at you as if you had grown a plant over your head as Smee let out a laugh. The Captain gave you a mocking grin with a glare and snatched the hat from your head, not caring if he messed up your hair. He put it back on and rose to his feet. 

“Keep that attitude and you’ll sleep in a cell.” You scoffed and stood up as well, flicking the feather from his hat with the tip of your index finger.

“The least you can do is give me a bed to sleep in! You kidnapped me, thinking I was someone else, and now, I can’t even remember my fucking name!” You yelled at him and Smee was on his feet in a second, his eyes wide at how you were yelling at his captain. 

Hook’s eyes were staring at the girl, no, the woman before him, and now he knew this wasn’t the person he was looking for, yet, your eyes were still the same, and you were at her home. How many years have passed in your time? He took a deep breath in and sighed through his nose, looking towards Smee.

“We gotta get her some clothes. Take her measurements.” That’s all the Captain says before heading back into his headquarters. Your eyes followed his retreating back before the clearing of someone’s throat snapped you out from your thoughts, making you turn around to face Smee.

“May I take your measurements?”

The night on the ship was breezy, but warm all the while. You had helped Smee with dinner, chopping up onions and potatoes as he prepared a chicken in the casserole on the metal kitchen that had logs in the oven for heat. 

And you took that chance to start a conversation with the brown haired boy.

“How long have you been here?” You ask and the man freezes slightly as he continues to stir the chicken in the pot.

“A long, long while. Time doesn’t go by in Neverland.” You frowned at that, because that would mean the man before you was probably a hundred years old, the same as the Captain of the ship. You took a deep breath in to hide your nervousness, to hide the fact that that would be your destiny if you don’t get out of here.

“And you don’t remember anything from before this? Were you born here?” You ask this time, and he stills, blinking down at the chicken. You gulped, realizing you had asked the wrong question and made him uncomfortable, but before you could continue, someone else talks in the kitchen.

“Stop asking questions that you really shouldn’t care about, and try this on.” You turned around just in time to receive a bunch of fabric thrown into your face. You growled in anger, pushing it off your face to see the captain now wearing a white blouse with puffed sleeves and a few buttons up his collar. A black bandana was around his head instead of the massive hat, and a pair of black slacks and his boots were at his bottom. 

You almost forgot your anger at the sight.

“What’s this?” You asked, looking at the massive pile of… clothes?

“Go and try them on, use my headquarters.” You were still dumbfounded looking at the clothes on your arms and he rolled his eyes, grabbing your shoulders to drive you out of the kitchen and into the top deck, the breeze hitting you against your skin. You looked towards where his cabin was, and next to the door of his cabin, there were two more flights of stairs that guided you to the steering wheel. 

You walked up, and opened his door, closing it behind you. You looked around and saw that the swords were gone, which made you roll your eyes, and then you saw another table that replaced the desk from before. It was an antique sewing machine. You blinked at that, and looked down at your clothes.

The Captain himself made these for you?

You gulped tightly a small lump that appeared in your throat and you started undressing, looking down at your underwear, a deep blush coming into your cheeks. How long were you going to stay here? You cannot use the same panties everyday, and you cannot, not even if you dared, to make Captain Hook make you a pair. Not possible. You’ll go commando while you wash them during the day.

You began putting the clothes on yourself, and just like his but a little tighter, he made you a shirt with puffy sleeves, and then a long brown skirt that hugged you on your waist. It looked like it had layers of the fabric over it as well, making it look a little less plain. You kept your combat boots on and looked at yourself in the mirror. 

How can any of this be real? It cannot be. It really cannot be, but the fabric of the clothes on you feel way too realistic, and you had a panic attack as well, which should have woken you up. Yet you didn’t. Because this wasn’t a dream at all, and you were here, wearing pirate clothing in front of a mirror. You look towards his night table and see there was a red bandana on top of it.

You grabbed onto it and copied the way the Captain had it, tight around your head and covering your forehead. You looked at yourself in the mirror, and you couldn’t help but giggle, feeling like a little child dressing up for a costume party. Your stomach growled, the smell of the chicken being cooked filling the cabin through the round window.

You walked out of the room and back into the kitchen again, where the Captain was already sitting down at the end of the table, eating a piece of bread while Smee steered the casserole, his back towards you. Hook’s eyes looked up towards you and his chewing immediately stopped. The bread fell on the plate, and he cursed under his breath for acting like this. 

But you were in fact a woman on his ship, and–

“It’s that my bandana?” He asks and Smee’s head immediately snaps towards you with a worried look on his face. You never steal a Captain’s belongings, even if it’s just an apple or a pen, you never do. You shrugged and sat down on the captain’s left, who was still shooting a glare towards you.

“I wanted to have an accessory, plus it hides my greasy hair.” Smee winced at your words, looking at the back of his captain’s head to wait for his explosive reaction, but it never came. He simply sighed, shaking his head and began eating his bread again. 

“You don’t take my belongings without my consent first.” Hook knew that wasn’t the rule at all. You don’t even have to ask the Captain for permission to grab something of his, but for some reason he let you. Smee’s face contorted in confusion and returned to cooking, already done as he prepared the plates.

“So like, you guys hunt and stuff?” Smee nods as he hands the captain his plate full of food. 

“Yeah, we fish too, and we take water from the lake that has pure natural water from the waterfall.” Smee explains as he prepares the plate for you. He brought it for you and a small ‘thanks’ came out of your lips. After he grabbed his own plate, he sat down in front of you and at his captain’s right.

You looked around and noticed since this afternoon that there were no more crewmates, and it was just these two men in front of you, so of course questions popped in your head.

“Why are you two the only ones on this ship?” You asked as the Captain took a potato in his mouth. He glared at you and pointed at you with the knife.

“If you don’t eat in the next ten minutes, I’ll take the plate away from you.” You glared at him but began eating anyway, Smee chuckling under his breath while he ate his food. It was actually delicious, and probably Smee had always been the cook on the ship. You had a smaller portion than the other two men, but it was enough and plenty, so you finished before them.

“It seems you enjoyed it.” Smee says and you couldn’t help but blush slightly at how fast you actually ate, despite the portion being smaller. You grabbed onto your jug and took a gulp, wincing when you realized it was pure rum.

“What the fuck!” You pulled it away from your lips as quickly as possible, and the Captain choked as he tried to stifle a laugh. You glared slightly at him, with a squint of your eyes. You don’t like your food with alcohol, it is a bad mix.

“We always have dinner with Rum. Feel free to grab anything else.” Hook says and you scoff with a roll of your eyes, grimacing at the jug. Smee knew you didn’t know where the water was, so he got up, grabbed a metal jug this time from one of the shelves and headed towards a barrel with a cork at the bottom. He unplugged it for water to come out and then plugged it again.

He headed back towards you with the water, handing it to you and you shot a warm smile up at him.

“At least someone is a gentleman around here.” You say out loud, taking a sip of your water as the black haired captain rolled his eyes and then glared at his crewmate who let out a laugh before shutting up. Smee sat back down to return to his food and the Captain did the same thing. You tapped your fingers on your jug and decided you had too many questions to remain quiet. “Are you two… you know.” 

Both men put the forks and the knives down, well, just one fork down because the Captain used his own hook as one, slowly turning towards you. Hook had a death stare on his face that might as well kill you on the spot and Smee’s was simply a frown out of confusion.

“If we are what?” Smee asks while taking a sip of his rum and the Captain glares at him with a shake of his head. 

“You know… you’re the only ones on the ship… Two lonely men at sea–” And that made Smee spit out the alcohol from his mouth at full speed to his side. The Captain pinched the bridge of his nose to contain his laughter, not at all angry at your question because if you say it like that, well… it does sound rather compromising.

His smile under his hand did not go unnoticed by you, catching it for the first time as a genuine look on him, and you swear you could see some dimples behind the facial hair. Smee on the other hand was coughing, hitting his chest with his fist to try to get the alcohol down.

“Shit–” Smee complains as he takes your jug of water to swallow down the burning sensation in his throat. You cover your mouth to stifle your giggles and you already knew the answer, thanks to their reactions.

“No. Even if there are no women here, we are not into each other.” You heard the captain say and you thought for a second, tilting your head as he took a sip out of his own jug of rum this time.

“Then, you’re both virgins?” Now water and rum were being spat to their sides, the captain’s spit almost getting you so you scooched away in time. You couldn’t help but simply crack up at the situation, both of them red in the face which also gave away their chastity. 

“You don’t simply ask people you just met if they are virgins.” Smee says as he wipes his mouth with a kitchen towel, the Captain snatching it away from his hand and wiping his own, and a glare was being sent to you from over the fabric.

For some reason, you weren’t scared of these two men. Smee seemed genuinely kind and caring, not at all what a pirate should be. Captain Hook though, even if more fierce and more scary looking, he has a kindness behind his eyes that you couldn’t quite describe. There was another feeling to him, and even if he threatens you with taking away your bed, or your food, for some reason you know he won’t do that. 

“So, there are literally no women here?” You ask and Smee looks at you in thought.

“Well, if you count the Sirens.” Your face lights up at that, smiling widely, eyes glazing with excitement.

“Sirens?! You guys have Sirens?! Can we go see them?!” The Captain scoffs with a roll of his eyes as he takes a sip out of his rum before talking.

“We do, but do you want us to die? You do know what sirens do, right?” Hook asks you and you glare at him, crossing your arms over your chest.

“Maybe they are different here and don’t enchant men with their beautiful voices.” You retorted and he just kept looking at you, so you stared back, both of you in a contest that you didn’t know what the prize was, but if he wasn’t going to look away, you weren’t going to either. You weren’t blinking, he wasn’t blinking. His eyes twitched slightly as he stared into yours, memories flashing in his mind, and he swore not much time had passed. 

But maybe that was the illusion of Neverland.

For a second you saw the other emotion glazing over his eyes and you knew you could relate to it. Loneliness was displayed in his eyes, as well as disappointment, and he was so tired. Simply tired. That made your eyes burn slightly as your chest clenched from the sudden wave of emotions and you blinked, wincing at the burn as you rubbed your eyes.

“I win.” The Captain says and you couldn’t help but giggle, still rubbing your face, because he was following your game all along. Smee raised an eyebrow as he kept an eye on his Captain, who had a small tug on the corner of his lips raised upwards. Smee cleared his throat and the other two people at the table turned to look at him.

“What should we call you?” He asked and you blinked, scratching one of your eyes still. A hand came up to grab onto your wrist, warm and soft. You stopped the rubbing and looked up to see the Captain’s left hand grabbing onto you.

“If you keep rubbing it you’re gonna pop your eye out.” You locked eyes with him, completely shocked by his sudden touch and it seems he now realized he was grabbing you, pulling away as quickly as possible, almost as if he were zapped. You cleared your throat and looked at Smee with a shrug of your shoulders.

“I don’t know…” Smee was deep in thought and the Captain suddenly spoke.

“Bella.” He says and you blinked towards your lap, scrunching up your nose, not noticing the smirk on Smee’s lips as he looked away.

“As in Isabella?” You asked and the Captain shrugged, taking a sip out of his jug.

“Sure.”

The first few nights on the ship were full of nightmares, or maybe they were memories that wanted to claw their way out of your mind and your brain just wouldn’t let them. You woke up screaming, but you always found a glass of water next to your bed, the captain’s bed.

He had decided to give you his Cabin, his headquarters, because it was more fit for a woman rather than the crew’s headquarters. They were nice and private but you were still a woman, who they unwillingly took from the comfort of her home, so you should at least be comfortable. 

Smee taught you how to fish properly, getting yourself a nice piece of fish for dinner. The Captain showed you how to make a proper knot, while Smee taught you how he sets sails and puts them away. It’s hard to do while being only one person, but the Captain also helps with that. 

So now, on your seventh day aboard, the Captain had decided to finally set sail around the island for you to see. 

“What’s that?” You pointed at a big rock that appeared to look like a skull. Smee had gone hunting into the forest, so it was just you and the captain now, his hands on the steering wheel. You were next to him, pointing at everything you were seeing. 

“Skull rock. The indigenous tribe of the island go there for mining and resources.” Your eyes widened as you looked back at him.

“There are other people?!” You asked and he nodded, then shrugged. 

“They aren’t keen on outsiders, so I didn’t have the chance to meet any in my lifetime. You see the smoke?” He asks as he looks to the side of skull rock and you squint your eyes to see the small line of smoke coming from inside the woods.

“Yeah! Is that where they are?” He gave you a nod and you hummed with curiosity. “Where is Peter Pan?” His eyes widened and he turned to look at you, startling you by his intense gaze.

“How do you know about Peter?” You were now as surprised as he was. How did you know? Who was Peter Pan? Lost Boys?

“You didn’t mention him before?” You asked him, now confused as to why his name came out of your mouth in the first place. He shook his head at you, the bandana over his head today as well instead of his hat. The sun was already setting, and the orange hues were hitting his complexion just right. 

Your stomach was turning uncomfortably at his gaze, but it wasn’t something that made you scared, rather, it was the other way around. It was turning because of how beautiful he just looked. The wind moving his curls with its direction, and his eyes staring at you with wonder and curiosity in them.

“I said Tinker Bell’s friend. Never said his name.” You shrugged at him, shaking your head with a worried look on your face.

“I-I really don’t know…” He stood there, scanning your frame for a second. The past few days he had let his facade of being cold towards you slip, greatly. You two had the bantering still, but it always now ended with laughter, or giggles from your part, a smile on his face as he looked at you. 

That was a new problem he encountered. He couldn’t stop looking at you. 

“No. I don’t know where he and his friends hide, if I knew, I would have captured Tinker Bell a while ago.” Your heart stung at that. It sounded as if he wanted you gone for a while now, and for some reason you didn’t like that thought. 

“You never answered me.” You say as you look towards the island again as he maneuvered the ship to start rounding it again. His eyebrows went into the middle of his forehead in a confused frown.

“What answer?”

“Why is it just you and Smee?” You ask again as you lean against the rail of the ship, looking at the horizon. The Captain keeps silent, gripping onto the steering wheel very tightly, his knuckles turning white on his left hand. For some reason, he didn’t want to tell you at first, and he didn’t want to tell you now either, but he knew it was an unavoidable topic.

“None of us remember our names. My name is not Hook, or Smee’s, or Peter’s… Those aren’t our real names, just like yours isn’t Bella.” He started explaining and you turned around to look at him as he sailed. “I had 9 men on my ship, counting Smee. Suddenly, one by one, they started to remember their names, and the next day, they were gone.” 

You stared at the floor next, your brain working as you thought about his words. They were gone… Where? Did they disappear? Were they never real? Or… Did they go back home? Your eyes widened as your head snapped towards him again, and he was already looking at you.

“So–”

“If you remember your name, you go back to your world.” He says to you, the hand still on the steering wheel as his right arm hangs on his side, his hook glinting with the sun. You felt your eyes stinging with that realization, but also because you didn’t actually remember your name. You didn’t even know if you ever would remember it again, so the pixie dust seemed like the better choice. 

He was still looking at you, seeing your eyes filling up with tears, looking down at the floor. His heart clenched inside his chest and he almost winced at the new pain. He groaned slightly as he looked forward again, checking if rocks were anywhere to be seen. 

“Yeah, well… I don’t think I’ll ever remember it so…” You say sadly, feeling that you were abandoning some kind of home you had to go back to, but you weren’t able to. Feeling some kind of hopelessness in your heart. The Captain put his hook around one of the handles of the Steering wheel and he stretched his left hand at you.

“Come here.” He commands and you wipe your face in case a tear falls down, and you stretch your right hand to him. He held it gently in his large palm, and you felt a shock running along your arm and towards your spine as he pulled you towards him. He positioned you in between him and the wheel, placing your right hand on one of the handles of it, taking away his hook, and then he positioned your left one, but he kept his hand over yours to help with the guiding.

Your eyes were wide at the proximity and by just how intimate this was. Your small hands wrapped around the handles, and your left one had a double grip thanks to his hand over yours. His chest was not touching you, but he was close, and you were afraid he could hear your heart beating furiously and loudly. 

“Driving this in a storm is quite the trouble. The steering wheel becomes harder to move, but with calm waters it sails as if it were on butter.” He says, and his voice was so smooth on your ears, so calm and gentle, unlike the first time you two met. You suddenly felt the power you were holding, such a big machine under your fingertips, and it sailed because of you, and your guidance. Your eyes sparkled with emotion and joy as you looked forward.

“This is so beautiful…” And the Captain once again, looked down at you, at the crown of your head. He didn’t know that their soap would smell so good, it was something homemade with flowers and animal fat, yet you made it smell like a perfume. His left hand left yours and it slid down your arm to rest on your waist, not putting much pressure onto it, just enough to hold him steady behind you.

You noticed of course, a deep blush running over your cheeks. There were so many questions you wanted to ask him, but you wanted to stay like this a little bit longer. His hand on you, and his chest almost pressing against your back as he gently guided you through the waves.

Just a little bit longer.

“SO COME AND SIGN THE BOOK, JOIN UP WITH CAPTAIN HOOK!” Smee sings loudly, face flushed as he danced around you and the captain, who were laughing at him as he drunkenly sang the Captain’s theme on deck, the three of you with a lamp in the middle as stars gazed down on you. 

You were clapping as you sat on a wooden box, the rum already made a buzz appear in your mind but Smee was completely plastered. It’s been a month since you were on the ship, and Smee had decided that it was time to make you a crew member. He finally sat back down with an ‘oof’ as he grabbed onto the book that was sitting next to his wooden box.

The captain’s eyes followed when Smee opened the book and grabbed onto the feather pen, already with ink, for you to sign yourself in. He handed both things to you and you looked down at the pages, seeing many names, more than 9. This happened many times then, people coming and going away. 

Hook was about to tell you that there was no obligation to do so, but you grabbed the pen and signed with the name Bella under all the names. You smiled down at it, a warmth invading your chest that you didn’t feel in so long. A warmth you’ve been seeking for some time now, even before landing here. 

“YOU’RE PART OF THE CREW MATEY!” Smee yells excitedly as he grabs the book and shows his Captain. You were giggling with flushed cheeks as you took another sip of your jug and when you pulled it down, the black haired man was staring at you with a kind smile to his face. “I think I’m gonna pass out…” And just like that, a big thud was heard and the Captain and you looked at Smee alarmingly, seeing him on the floor with his legs on the wooden stool still, but deep snores were coming out of his mouth, with the book on his face.

You couldn’t help but crack up laughing at the sight, and a hiccup came out of your mouth, making you cover it quickly with your free hand in complete embarrassment, but you weren’t ready to finally listen to the Captain let out a big laugh at the sound. His cheeks were flushed like yours, but he could handle his liquor a lot better.

“That was a cute noise, Bella.” He says as he takes a sip out of his jug. You glare at him only for your smile to betray you, and giggle as the kick of the rum still swirled in your head. He was staring at you, no longer being able to contain his smile towards you. For the past month, you had helped with the cooking, with the cleaning of the ship, you even ventured to set sails, climbing onto the ropes to help Steve.

And he prepared more clothes for you, even underwear, which made him blush, but it was necessary for you. He didn’t mind at all, and in fact, made him have hope that you wouldn’t disappear that easily, that you would stay longer, because they hadn’t even looked for Tinker Bell, nor you didn’t care. It seems Peter also realized you weren’t the person from years ago, and he didn’t even dare to save you.

“Hey, how did ya’ get yer’ hook?” He couldn’t help but laugh at your bad impersonation of Pirate slang, but now you were one, so you were trying to look the part. 

“Third day hunting. Crocodile got me, felt amazing, like you wouldn’t believe.” He said sarcastically which made you frown in sadness and he shook his head at you. There you were again, feeling sad for him, as well as you felt happy for him when he returned from hunting, as well as you felt excited for him when he won a game of cards against Smee. 

“Damn… that sounds... gorey.” Hook laughed at that with a nod. The rum was making your head swirl, but it made your inner thoughts become clearer to you. You were looking at the Captain with different eyes than a month ago, and you were hoping he was looking at you in the same way, you were yearning for it. For him. “Captain?”

“Hmm?”

“Can I give you a kiss?” His eyes scrunched a bit before widening. His stomach turned as your sight moved from his eyes to his lips, and he would be lying if he hadn’t thought of it for the past few weeks, but he didn’t want to scare you. He didn’t want you to think he was doing this because you were a woman.

You were more than that.

“You sure it isn’t a thimble?” He joked, remembering a story from a long time ago, said to him by the person that he claimed you to be. Your eyebrows furrowed at that, but a small smile appeared on your face as you scooted next to him, and you looked to your side and up to be able to look at him.

“If you want to call it that…” Your eyes were hazy with alcohol and the butterflies were flying around your belly as you slowly leaned in towards him. His breathing picked up, looking down at you with the new found feeling he had been clawing for all this time, leaning down, slowly towards you.

A loud snore interrupted you both, startling you and straightening up to look forward towards Smee, who raised his head up to look at the both of you. You were a blushing mess, even more than with the alcohol and the Captain was looking away from you, feeling embarrassment deep in his chest as well as disappointment. 

“Is there more Rum?” Smee asks with a slur and you couldn’t help but crack up at that, the moment completely gone and the Captain simply smiles at you, wholeheartedly. This feeling was new, completely taking over him, and he was embracing it, because it was a happiness he hadn’t felt in way too long. 

He didn’t feel lonely. For the first time in what felt like forever.

You groaned loudly as your head banged from the previous day. You had too much to drink and now you were suffering the consequences. You laughed sleepily, knowing Smee was having it worse most likely. You got up from the bed, stretching your arms only for them to hit the top of a… ceiling?

You scrunch your face and slowly open your eyes, noticing you were in some underground room? You looked all around, panic setting in, just like a month ago as you walked all around the small area. 

You heard a tinking noise, like little bells ringing, and then you saw it, a light flying towards you and when it finally stopped right on your face, you saw her. Small, little, with wings on her back.

Tinker Bell.

“She’s awake! Peter!” You heard a kid yell and when you turned around, going down a slide and into the room appeared three boys, all dressed with fur made clothes, and some accessories. They all stood before you, and you can see they looked like they were 11 or 12 years old.

“Hi! I’m Pockets!” The boy with a bowl cut greeted you. “But I bet you remember me!” You frowned at that and then the other two came forward.

“I’m Ace!” The boy with a slingshot in his hand said while the other one, a little bit more snarky with attitude, rolled his eyes.

“I’m Latchboy.” The black haired kid said. You were completely shocked as to where you were, but you couldn’t help the tugging feeling of longing. You weren’t supposed to be here, you didn’t want to be here, but at the same time, you did. 

“I’m– Bella.” You said and the boys frowned, looking at each other and pointing at you.

“You aren’t Wendy?” You shook your head at them and finally, the last boy came in, but not sliding in like the rest, but flying from the hole of the slide and into the room. His curly hair with a green cap on top and green suit as he lowered himself down in front of you.

“What do you mean you’re not Wendy?” He asked with an angered frown to his face. You squint your eyes as you looked at the boy, tilting your head slightly in thought.

“Peter?” You asked and his eyes widened, looking at all the boys around him. You heard the bells ringing again as Tinker Bell stood on Peter’s right shoulder. 

“I know you warned us Tink, but she just said my name without introducing myself!” The little bells sounded angry as the yellow glow turned red on Peter’s shoulder. He shook his head and gave her a wave to fly away. “Don’t mind her, but how do you know my name if you aren’t Wendy?” 

“I– I don’t know, I don’t remember my real name either.” You said to the boys and they all sighed looking at one another. You were fidgety, wanting to return to your ship, to your new home, to your new family. “Why are you all looking for Wendy so badly?”

“I just…” Peter was looking down with tears in his eyes as he rubbed them gently. “Wendy promised us, all of us, that she would take us home with her. But one day she was just gone. When I went to look for her at her home, she wasn’t there anymore.” You were confused at that, and you realized that this Wendy must have remembered her name, and she couldn’t fulfill her promise. You sighed as you looked at all the boys' dejected faces.

“She was going to be our new mother.” The three other boys said in unison. Something stirred inside of you, and it was a tight tug to your heartstrings. For some reason, you couldn’t help but feel like these kids needed you, that these kids right now needed someone to hold them.

So that’s what you did, you opened your arms to welcome them all into a tight hug. You felt your tears well up as you rubbed their heads gently as they hugged you. The sorrow you were feeling in your chest just appeared like a hole, carving itself in. 

You wished you knew where your previous home was, but you cannot promise them what Wendy had, but you can try to make them feel better. You pulled them away and got to eye level with them.

“Do you guys want to hear a story?” And they all cheered at that, going towards their beds as you began telling them a story about a man, who was super strong and that had the ability to fly like Peter but with no Pixie Dust. You don’t really know if you were inventing the story or if it was a distant memory, but you could invent things here and there. 

Then, you cooked Dinner for them. 

Afterwards you helped them get into their pajamas.

And then, you were asleep with the whole group. 

The next day, you cooked breakfast for them as they told you stories about their adventures and how the natives were really nice to them for helping them with some hunting or construction. 

“Bella!” Peter called you, guiding you up from the hidden place, and for the first time you could smell the fresh air, seeing that their home was hidden under a big tree. “Do you know how to fly?” He asks you and you raise an eyebrow up, looking at him.

“No…” He smiles at you, his eyes almost closing by how wide he was smiling and he suddenly hovers up in the air, you watching with fascination as he flies around you.

“It’s easy! You just need Faith, trust and pixie dust! Just think of happy thoughts!” He says while pretending to swim in the air and you giggle at his antics. Your eyes widened when you heard a distant yell, a very recognizable one and your head whipped to look for it. 

It was Smee, he was calling out to you. Your family… Your ship. The Captain. 

“You’re already leaving?” You turned to see Peter, now standing in front of you, and your eyes filled with tears as you stared at him. You crouched down, rubbing his cheek gently.

“Yes, but I’ll be here, on the ship…”

“But if you don’t? Will you leave forever?” Your eyes widened at that, feeling the emptiness open in your chest again and you shook your head wildly at that. 

“No, no… If I ever disappear, ask… Ask Captain Hook, he knows where I am, where I might be… So I beg you, to look for me, all of you.” You say to the small boy who only gave you a small smile and a nod. He instantly dipped back into the small hole, disappearing under the tree. 

Your breathing picked up as you turned and followed Smee’s voice, coming loudly from inside the forest, almost desperate. Your heart was banging in your chest, thinking about him but also, thinking about your Captain, about his brown eyes, about his kindness.

“BELLA!” Smee yelled as he saw you running towards him. His under eyes were filled with bags from the lack of sleep, looking everywhere for you alongside Hook, but he finally saw you alive and well, taking you into his arms as you both collided together.

“I’m so sorry!” You yelled with tears streaming down your face, and he shook his head as he hugged you tightly, his own eyes burning from the tears forming in his eyes. 

“No! Don’t be sorry! Where were you!?” He asked, pulling away to look at you, hands on your shoulders as he looked at you.

“Peter and the lost boys! They must have sneaked in and–” 

“The captain is on the ship!” He almost yells, desperately and you knew you had to return to him. You deeply wanted to return to him. You turned to start running but little bells ringing filled your ears as you saw a small light flying towards you at high speed.

“Tink!” You yelled and Smee’s eyes widened as the fairy flew all around you, pixie dust falling on your head and your body. You coughed slightly but as soon as you saw her, she flew away. You turned to Smee and nodded at him to start running. He was looking at you worriedly but followed you to go towards the small boat he docked at the shore.

You needed to get back to him, your heart on your throat as the memories with him filled your mind, the laughter, the stories about how he played with Peter and the Lost boys, yesterday night when he was leaning towards you with longing in his eyes that resembled the one that was in your heart.

“BELLA!” You heard Smee yell and when you turned around, you didn’t see him at your eye level, but below you. Your eyes widened as you looked down towards the floor, which was a few feet from your body, floating in the air. You screamed and almost fell to the ground, wobbling mid air. 

Your eyes fixed forward, and you could see the flag at the very top of the ship, far away. You took a deep breath in, feeling your body as light as a feather, as the yearning became stronger each second you floated, each second you inched closer to the ship, each time you remembered the Captain’s eyes. 

Said Captain was pacing back and forth on the deck, his long hair now tied with his bandana in a low ponytail, his left hand running over his face as the panic from waking up yesterday and not finding you in his bed seeped through his pores. He didn’t want to think about it. He didn’t want to believe you remembered your name. 

He cannot even begin to explain the hole that his chest cavity was beginning to form. What is he going to do with you gone? This is not something he had planned, the feelings that you brought in this ship, within him, were not something that he ever thought of happening before. 

He raised his head up and his eyes widened when he saw a figure flying towards the ship. It wasn’t a small frame, not a child’s. His heart wanted to come out of his chest as he saw you flying towards him, clumsily, but still flying towards the ship. He immediately spread his arms, moving forward as you came closer, his eyebrows pinched into a frown with worry, with surprise, with happiness.

You smiled widely at seeing him, lowering yourself as you flew, right into his arms, your own wrapping around his waist as your feet touched the wooden deck. Your tears were slipping out of your eyes as he closed his arms around your frame, making sure his hook doesn’t prick you or hurt you, but his left hand was splayed around your back, pushing you close against him as if you were his life line.

He clenched his eyes as you sobbed into his chest, his left hand now going up towards your head to cradle you into him. You could hear how fast his heart was beating, how loud it was, and your body shook with electricity at his touch. Seconds, minutes passed where you both held each other like this, until he slowly pulled your face away to look down at you. His eyes displayed confusion with a frown to his eyebrows.

“Y-You were flying…” He softly mumbles and you sniffle as you look up at him, cheeks flushed as your belly starts jumping all around at seeing him. 

“Y-Yes and–”

“Why didn’t you go home you silly girl?” He asked, terror in his voice, almost trembling as he spoke, and your eyes widened. You could have gone… home? What is home? Where did he mean? 

“T-This is my home… With Smee… With you.” You raised a hand to caress his cheek, the feelings overflowing your heart as you thought of him, as you saw him, as you felt him. Whatever your past was, whatever your past home was, whoever people you had, they didn’t matter. You knew that you never felt something like this, with no one, with anything. You knew the feelings inside of you right now were not there before arriving here.

You knew you were miserable before landing here. That’s all you knew.

His eyes filled with tears as he stared down at you, for the first time feeling his heart fill up with joy, with care, with want, with desire, and most of all, with love. He had Smee, and he was grateful for him, but it could not compare. What he was feeling for you at this moment, what he has been feeling for you the past few weeks, does not compare. 

So he leaned down, almost desperately, wantonly, and pressed his lips against yours, fulfilling your request from last night. You had the chance to leave, you had the chance to fly away, you had the chance to never see this place again, yet you chose him. You chose this family. You chose to stay.

You kissed him back just as desperate, an electric feeling engulfing your body from head to toe, your hand finding the back of his neck to pull him closer to you, if that was even possible. This man who looked right out of a fairytale, was the man that became your home. He made you feel at home, not at all a prisoner, not at all as if you were being held against your will.

Because there was nothing you wanted more than to be in his arms. Than to feel his lips moving against yours the way they are doing now, his body heat mixing with yours as the sound of the waves filled the background noise of you two. 

A clear of throat made you both snap out from your kiss, pulling away from it and turning your heads to see Smee at the edge of the ship, from where the stairs were located with a grin to his face. You flushed a deep red, your breath completely heavy as the Captain glared at his crewmate. 

“Saw it coming a mile away, just saying.” He raised his hands up in his defense and immediately rushed downstairs to his room. Your face was turned by a cold metal, your Captain’s hook on your cheek to look at him again. 

“I am not letting you go Bella, be aware of that.” He says with a smile to his face and you giggle, your breath hitting his lips and he was ready to dive in again into a kiss but you stopped him.

“Hey, why Bella?” You asked him and he grinned at you, but before he could talk, his mouth opening to do so, he was interrupted.

“It means Beautiful. Sorry, forgot my pistol on the boat.” Smee says with a smirk as he heads towards the stairs again. Your captain groaned in exasperation and he pulled away from you, heading towards Smee who was bending over to start going down the stairs. Hook put a foot up and kicked his crewmate on his butt, sending him off the edge and down into the water. You gasped audibly, covering your mouth with your hands as worry crossed your features. 

“THAT WAS NOT NICE!” You heard from afar and your captain laughed at that, which made you giggle, catching his attention. He immediately rushed towards you to pull you into another kiss. 

He wasn’t going to get tired of that.

A month. One more month. 

You were happy, content, as you tied the knots of the sails to the edges of the ship with the help of Smee, the moon already beaming in the sky as well as the stars sparkled above you.

“I’m just saying, you can tell us, and the game would be even more fun!” Smee says and you shook your head with a giggle, finishing your knot.

“I will not tell you their location. The game wouldn’t be fun like that!” You say and he sighs, finishing his own knots as well. For the past month, you had participated in the game of catching the lost boys and Peter, alongside your Captain and Smee. The boys often decided to kidnap you so you would tell them stories and make them food, tuck them into bed at night before Tink would give you pixie dust so you could fly back to the ship.

The Captain rejoiced everytime he found you in the game, instead of you going back willingly. This game is what kept them alive, what kept them enjoying the days, the immortality you all had. Smee has been trying to coarse the information of Peter’s home for the past month with no luck. 

“Are the sails secured?” You heard your Captain call and Smee stood tall next to you, giving him a nod. He knew what those words were, so he gave you a wink, before brushing next to you to head towards his headquarters. The Captain looked at you with a playful look in his eyes as he walked towards you. 

Your relationship became that of intimate, just kissing, but everytime it escalated more and more, and you both knew that. You never expressed your feelings for him, and neither did he, but you both also knew that it was there. Peter always teased the Captain about your relationship, flying around him to make kissy noises at him, while he tried to swat him away.

“Are my knots okay, Captain?” You asked in a sultry tone, rocking on your feet as he walked closer to you, wrapping his left arm around your waist to pull you closer. A black shirt with loosened strings at his collar which let you see some of his chest hair, puffy sleeves like always, loosened at his wrists, and his hair tied in a low pony tail. 

“Perfect even.” He whispered before leaning down and taking your lips with his. You breathed contently against him, wrapping your arms around his shoulders to pull him into you as your stomach exploded in butterflies and the word of your feelings sat in your throat. 

His lips moved against yours, and his right arm wrapped around you, always keeping his hook at a distance from your body, but sometimes the tip of it would graze your waist and it would send currents of electric shocks through your body. The hit of waves against the ship made it rock slightly, very slightly, almost unnoticeable thanks to the size of it.

Your heart was beating on your ears almost as the kiss progressed, the moon being your witness only as well as the many stars that flicker around it. His tongue doing magic against yours as your body increased in heat and in desire, pulling away to look at him breathlessly.

“Captain…” You mumbled, and he pecked your lips first to then start pecking your cheek, then again, then lower onto your jaw, until he pressed a kiss against your neck, on your pulse point.

“Hmm…?” He asked against your skin and you bit your lip as nervousness but excitement filled your belly.

“Come to my cabin tonight…?” You ask through a heavy breath and his kissing stopped. He slowly pulled away to look at your face, and your eyes were glossed over with adrenaline and desire, much alike to his. His stomach was in knots as well as his heart jumped with happiness, nervousness and anticipation. 

He gave you a slow nod, and you felt your whole body burning at the confirmation. You pulled away from him to grab his left hand, guiding you both towards your headquarters, his old cabin, and as you closed the door behind you both, the rest of the night was filled with jagged breaths, moans, becoming one, your hearts joining, your lips swelling, and feeling the love you had for one another.

Because right now, this right here was all it mattered. All you ever wanted.

You slowly awoke, your eyes fluttering open at the sound of seagulls, as an arm was wrapped around your waist from behind, the right arm that had no hook, because he always took it off before sleeping, under the many blankets the bed possessed. 

You smiled sleepily as you looked over your shoulder to see your captain, sleeping soundly, soft snores escaping his lips, with his hair all over the pillows and his bare chest pressed against your naked back.

You untangled yourself from him, wanting to start breakfast and he let you go with a groan and a stir in his sleep. You got out of bed, stretching your limbs and looked down at the various love bites all over your body, smiling widely at them. Last night was magical, for the both of you, and you just cannot wait for more of it, for more nights like that, for more days like that.

Maybe even give him a family.

You blushed at the thought and stood up, pulling your underwear and your slacks on, as well as your shirt from yesterday. A bath is going to be nice first, so might as well prepare that before cooking some breakfast.

You walked towards your, his, closet and started grabbing onto your clothes for after your bath, but something fell, something heavy. You looked down and noticed a leather like black coat? You bent down to grab it and when you did something fell off from one of its pockets. You grabbed said thing, an orange capsule, or was it a flask of some sort with a white cap on. You tilted your head in confusion, turning it around to find words stuck to the orange–

Your eyes widened at the words.

Sharp pains started banging on your head as you re-read it, over and over again, a shock striking your brain at full speed, and your heart stopped, it completely stopped and the blood in your body drained, making you feel light headed.

“No… No, no, no!” You yelled loudly, and that made Hook sit up alarmingly, awoken from his slumber. He saw you in front of your closet, holding onto your head and then something on your other hand. He got up, almost like lightning, throwing his slacks on with one hand and rushing towards you.

“What’s wrong?!” He exclaimed worriedly as he saw the tears running down your face as you shook uncontrollably. Your sobs ripped from your chest as you looked up at him, making the pain even more unbearable in your chest. You gave him the flask and he grabbed it with his left hand, looking down at it with a confused frown on his face.

“M-My na–” You couldn’t even say it, the feelings from before coming to Neverland strangling your throat as your head swirled. He read the sticker on the flask and he immediately knew. He knew, because his heart sunk down to his stomach. 

Your name was stuck to that flask. You remembered your name.

You remembered everything. You remembered your past home. You remembered the people you met. You remembered your mother. You remembered your friends. You remembered–

“Sweetheart–”

“M-My grandmother’s– grandmother’s name, was Gwendolin.” You say in almost a whisper, shock crossing your features as well as the Captain’s. Gwen… Wendy.

Your grandmother was Wendy.

The flask was dropped and his left hand held your cheek, pushing his forehead against yours. The pain in his chest increased as his eyes filled with tears, the sobs that wanted to rip out of his throat, threatening to be as loud as yours.

“Look at me, please look at me.” He begged and you looked up to meet his eyes, as tears streamed down your faces, shaking your head in denial at what was going to happen next. 

“I don’t want to go… Please, I don’t want to go! I don’t– I don’t want to leave you! I don’t want to leave here–” You sobbed out, your arms wrapping around him as your small frame trembled with fear, with sadness, with despair, with the anger of not being able to stop this. He wrapped his arm around you, pulling you into him.

“Don’t– Don’t worry–” He doesn’t even know what to say, because losing you was the worst thing that has ever happened to him. You were his home, his person, his all, and he was going to lose you. 

“Come with me– Come with me please, please!” You begged, pulling your head away from his chest to look up at him, desperation written in your features and another wave of sadness invaded him, as fresh tears spilled out from his eyes. 

“I can’t stay– If I don’t remember my name, I will just be pulled into this land again…” He says in a low voice, trying to speak through the rippling sobs that escape his lips, sobs he cannot contain any longer. His heart was breaking, each second now counted, because you were going to leave, at any time.

“Please, please, there has to be a way–” You sobbed out, asking for the gods to hear you, to anyone to hear you, to this realm to hear you. You needed him with you, you needed Smee with you, you needed the kids with you, because if you didn’t, you were going to be all alone again.

Alone. Alone. Alone. Alone.

“I’m– I’m sorry sweet–” He started but you interrupted, knowing there was not enough time.

“I love you. I love you. I love you so much. Don’t leave me, please…” You blurt out, your head dipping into his chest as you sobbed, rocking back and forth. His own heart fluttered at your words, against the pain, but it made his tears come harder, his sobs cutting his breath. 

“And I love you darling, I love you.” He managed to say and he felt your body slowly stop shaking, his arms feeling you slumping against him, your sobs calming down.

“I don’t want to go– I don’t want to sleep… I don’t, please don’t let me–” But he knew it was too late as he clenched his eyes shut to brace for the pain that would hit him.

The pain that will hit him when you close your eyes.

You stirred.

You groaned.

You moved your head as consciousness filled it.

Where were you? 

There were no waves, no seagulls, no birds chirping, no slow rocking.

Your eyes shot open as you realized the position you were in. You were sprawled on your grandmother’s bed, your old clothes hugging you tightly, as well as your jacket that contained the flask in one of your pockets. 

You quickly sat up, looking towards the window that was now wide open, the breeze coming in, moving the curtains away. You immediately leaped up from the bed, rushing in urgency towards the balcony, your eyes filling with tears as they looked up at the night sky. 

Was it all a dream? It cannot be, because the longing in your chest was there, the hole that now vacated it was there, the sadness and the loneliness was invading you worse than before. You can’t deal with this again, not again. You looked down at your body, opening the collar of your shirt, seeing the marks on your skin, and that’s when the sobbing started, heavy, your chest exploding with emotions as you fell on the big balcony’s floor.

“Please, please, remember your name, please…” You wished upon that second star to the right. You wished, and wished as it gleamed next to the large moon. Your hands shook against your chest as you held it to calm your heart, to calm the pain, to try to numb it, but you couldn’t.

And you couldn’t.

Not even if three days had passed, and it was all circling back again, spiraling. The word rings in your head as the furniture collects dust in each room, and your stomach makes you throw up at any random time of the day.

Alone. Alone. Alone. Alone.

And it all turned to the same word, to the same reflection in the mirror as you held the orange flask in your hand, looking down at the pile of pills inside of it.

Decisions. 

A loud knocking on the front door awoke you, banging like never before, your head dizzy from the lack of nutrients in your body, from the painkiller you took in the morning. 

You looked at your phone’s screen, slowly getting up from the couch where you had passed out, and your head was throbbing, holding it with your hand as the banging didn’t stop. You groaned loudly, walking towards the big front door. 

“If you are here to sell anything please–” Brown hair caught your eye, that’s the first thing you noticed, and he slowly turned around, brown eyes hitting with yours, freckles on his face, and a sting in your heart made you almost bend over at the sight.

“Bella…” He smiled through his stained face, his breathing picking up and a choked sob escaped your lips as you raised your hands to touch his face, trying to see if what you were seeing was real or not, and there was warmth, there definitely was.

“Sm–Smee–”

“I’m Steve… My name is Steve.” He says and your heart fills with joy at the knowledge, screaming with joy as you pull him into a tight hug. His arms wrapped around you, as he sobbed onto your shoulder. He was still wearing the pirate clothing, the one you thought you invented in your head out of your loneliness, but here he was, hugging you, crying onto you.

But over his shoulder, that’s when you saw the four kids with tear stained cheeks, lost eyes, as they looked over. Steve pulled away from you as he looked down at the children with you, a smile forming on his face.

“Peter—”

“Dustin… I’m Dustin.” He says with a pout to his lips and then Pockets talked.

“I’m Will…” Your eyes widening as you look at their faces, the tears never stopping from coming out of their eyes. Ace spoke next.

“I’m Lucas…” And then, Latchboy finally presented himself.

“My name is Mike…” Your heart beat into your chest loudly, happiness engulfing you as you crouched to the ground, opening your arms for the boys to rush and hug you, holding them close to you as the broken pieces mended back together in your head, in your heart.

All the boys were sobbing loudly, finally feeling normal, remembering who they were, remembering their lives and the intensity that whoever knew them, were long gone by now, but you were here, Steve was here and–

You opened your eyes again, pulling away from the hug as you looked around, desperately. It cannot be, please… He can’t be alone there. He didn’t remember his name? It cannot possibly be that he didn’t, because everyone else did, so–

“Are we going to live here?” Mike asked you and you had to push away your thoughts to answer to him, even if the pain was deep in your heart. You gulped the lump down, nodding at him with a sad smile on your face.

“Yes, and everyone will have their own room, even you, Steve. We’re all going to be a family, would you like that?” You say with doubt in your voice, hope and fear latched to it. All the boys nodded as big smiles filled their faces, hugging each other with happiness. You stood up and looked at Steve, who had a pained look on his face, despite the joy he felt inside his chest at the news of having a family. 

“I… He–” His eyes widened for a second as he saw something behind you, looking upwards. When you turned around you didn’t see anything but then your ear caught something.

Loud thuds were heard in your house, and you rushed inside to hear the boots, walking on the second floor, your heart in your throat as the anxiety and hope filled your guts, wishing that it will be him, wishing it is him, wishing on that star that for the love of all things, that it’d be him.

A hook clamped on the rail of the stairs first, and then he came into view, your eyes widening as tears filled your eyes at seeing him again. His hair tight in the black bandana you remembered him with, the white shirt, the tight pants with the belts around his waist, and he stood at the top of your marble stairs. 

You stared at one another, for a long while, until your feet worked again, finding the impulse to run to him, the magnet that always pulled you to him, as you rushed towards the stairs, and he followed, running down the steps, desperately, his heart exploding at being able to see you again, his gut turning at seeing your tear stained face, but he had something to say to you, he couldn’t wait to tell you.

He met you at the bottom of the stairs, and your arms immediately wrapped around his shoulders, almost jumping on him as sobs ripped out from your chest, cries of happiness as you felt his warmth against you again, his left arm holding you tightly as he sobbed onto your shoulder, soaking your shirt as you soaked his. 

He pulled away to press his hand against your cheek, desperately pecking your lips over and over again through his tears, his longing being shown towards you as you sobbed through the adoration he was giving you, not being able to handle how happy you were feeling, how for the past few days you were miserable, to the brink of going over the edge, but there was something always pulling you back. 

And that was faith.

Faith that you would see him again, faith that you wouldn’t be alone again, faith that you would have the family you yearned for. The family you once had with your grandmother only, and now it multiplied. 

The Captain pulled away from you, his lips hovering over yours, panting against your lips as your hands clawed at his shoulders, not wanting to let go of him ever again. But he had to tell you something. He had to.

“My name is Edward.” 

Your eyes filled with new tears as your smile spread through your lips, widely, a sob escaping them, and you kissed him, pulling his face against yours, before hugging him tightly against you again. Edward. Such a beautiful name. 

“Edward… Eddie…” You say his name and he finally let his cries be heard through the home, his chest ripping open from them almost. The boys looked at the couple with wonder in their eyes as Steve gulped the lump in his throat, smiling widely. It almost seemed as if your grandma knew you would meet these people, your grandma knew you were going to be the one to fulfill her promise to them, to bring them home. 

Home.

Your new home.

And if you listened closely, through the walls of the marble mansion, a small chime of little bells could be heard, happy yet sad, until they couldn’t be heard any more.

The second star to the right, shines in the night for you, to tell you that the dreams you plan, really can come true.

If you are inspired to do anything with this couple, credit accordingly if it's these two really.

A/N: I hope you enjoyed this imagine, this little thing actually broke me while writing it, but seriously, if you got any questions regarding it or maybe request something for these two, I'll be more than happy to receive it on my ask ❤

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fics #stranger things #eddie munson fanfiction #fanfiction #eddie munson ff #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson fandom #eddie munson stranger things #eddie x you #eddie munson fluff #eddie x fem!reader #hook!eddie #pirate!eddie #peter pan au #hook au #eddie munson angst #angst #eddie munson x you #fluff #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson x fem!reader fluff #eddie munson one shot #eddie munson oneshot

[ramp-it-up]

The Gentleman Returns

Pairing: Henry Cavill x Veterinarian!Reader

Summary: Henry comes back. Can he keep his composure around you?

Warnings: 18+ Only, Minors DNI. RPF. S MUT, Explicit description of graphic sex. P orn with just a little bit of plot. Read at your own risk.  Flashbacks, Facetime s ex, long distance romance, Angst, pining, flirting, arguing, reader insecurity, wagering, brat behavior, dirty talk, size kink, or al s ex, raw p in v (wrap before you tap),  b reeding kink, pain kink, m asturbation,o ral sex (f recieving) Not Beta’d. All errors my own.

A/N: This is part two of Doctor and Mr. Cavill. Let me know if you liked it!

I no longer have a taglist. Please follow @rampitupandread and turn on notifications to learn when I post! 😘

I Do NOT Consent to my work being reposted, translated or presented on any other blog or site other than by myself.

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“I am in control. I am not a man possessed. I am not an animal.”

Henry repeated it to himself as he prepared for his morning cardio run down, which just happened to be 3.5 miles down Route 60 to your house. He decided that running would serve two purposes: One, to round out his morning exercise, and two, to calm him down. 

It had been a long two weeks away. 

You were constantly on Henry’s mind and it took all of his acting skills to attend to the matters that took him home to Great Britain. But he was finally back in your town, which happened to be the location of his latest film role, and he was focused on letting you know that he didn’t think of you as just a good time in America. 

Henry knew that you thought he just wanted to have his way with you. The truth was that he felt for you deeply, and he didn’t quite know how to tell you. Things had gone much farther and faster than he ever imagined they would.

That’s why Henry was determined to be a gentleman today.

He’d stop by and say hello, collect Kal, ask you out on a date, and leave you intact like the lady you are. And then, maybe later, perhaps…. His heart rate escalated as he decided that he wouldn’t just grab you and take you up to your bed and fuck your brains out. 

No.

Absolutely not. 

Henry shook his head and smiled as he started the 5K run to your house. 

He’d landed the night before, and you both agreed that he needed to rest before he was in charge of Kal again. He slept, and then bounded out at 5 am the next morning to train and also to tame the boner that he’d awakened with for the past fortnight.

Henry’s head was in the clouds and he barely registered any exertion on the road to your place; he just daydreamed about led him to this point.

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Two weeks earlier...

Good morning Doctor. How are you?

The text was sent at 7:43 am, as soon as he touched down at JFK. Henry found that he had no qualms about looking desperate for you, because he actually was. 

Henry was surprised when you responded so promptly this early in the morning, but he was pleased.

Good morning Mr. Cavill. I’m a little sore. Fed the animals and am now taking a nice, hot bath.

Henry was concerned as he shouldered his backpack and walked down the jet bridge to the car area for his service. He was stopped for an autograph by someone who recognized him despite his baseball cap and mask, and as such, he didn't have time to really think when he responded.

Oh no! Did you lift too much feed? You really must lift heavy weights properly.

Henry’s brow was furrowed as he thought of you injured. You chuckled at Henry’s cluelessness. 

You’re carrying the weight that did the damage.

It took a second for the lightbulb to go off in Henry’s head, and when it did, he groaned, remembering how tight you’d been around him, but then he frowned again. He dialed you as soon as he was in the SUV with the door closed. 

You stared at your phone, not believing that he was facetiming you. After hesitating for just a moment, you answered.

“Hello?”

Henry peered at you through the screen then smiled, bringing the sun into your world.

“Hullo.”

You smiled back and bit your lip and Henry watched your mouth turn into a little pout. Damn, he was a goner. 

“Are you okay?”

His voice was laced with a sexy tone that sent a tingle down your spine. You could swear that your title had now become a term of endearment instead of a joke. Your head was spinning with desire, need and a little uncertainty. 

“I am perfectly fine.”

You certainly looked fit, Henry thought. And then he spied the bruise on your lip.

“What happened to your mouth?”

Henry looked angry, and your heart beat faster, thinking of how attractive he was when the dark clouds entered his eyes.

“… I split my lip when I… “ 

You looked down, eyelashes fanning your heated cheeks. What came next out of your mouth was a low and husky, but perfectly clear, whisper.

“I split my lip on you.”

Even in the bath, you grew moist at the memory of trying to accommodate Henry’s girth the night before. The slight pain of your bruised lip was forgotten the night before when you’d looked up at him through your lashes. 

Henry’s barely perceptible moan brought you back into the moment and made you rub your thighs together under the water. He took you in, an alluring vision all slippery and wet and beautiful. If he could actually fly like Superman back to your side, he would.

“Dear God. Do you know what you do to me?”

Henry intoned it deeply as he rubbed his jaw and licked his lips. 

“No, I don’t know, Mr. Cavill. Tell me?”

Henry let out a dark chuckle, double checking that the privacy partition was up in the car even though he had his airpods in.

“You’re an enchantress. I cant resist your allure, my dear Doctor, you’re captivating and I haven’t stopped thinking about you since I left.”

He watched you blush and had an idea. 

“I have to get out of this car soon, and I’ll have to make it to my room to take care of this evidence of your affect on me…” 

He panned down to his lap.

“Don’t…please.”

Henry's hand stilled on the ridge of his denimed dick. You’d commanded him with a whisper. He growled your name deep in his throat and you visibly shivered.

“I mean. It’s not for me to decide, but, if you were looking forward to us participating in activities like we did last night again…I’d rather you not…spill anything without me there to collect it. That is, if you could wait that long to cum again. To cum.. inside… me again..”

When you looked up at him again, you saw Henry’s eyes dilate as he bit his lip thinking of your wet heat. His cock jumped as debased images of what he wanted to do to you flooded his brain. He cleared his throat and his eyebrow rose as he bared his teeth in a feral smile to speak to you, his deep bass rumbling through you.

“You want me to save my seed to fill you up with, hmmm?”

You nodded, biting your lip, and your half closed eyes and whimpers only made him harder. He moved his hands to the leather seat of the suv, as he listened to the water moving around you as your free hand floated to your thigh. 

“How about I come back with my balls heavy with cum to pump you full of and let drip out of your pores. Could you handle that?”

You squirmed, your face full of desire. Henry felt like a man starved for your touch although he just left you not 4 hours earlier.

“Mmmmmm... I’d like that. Very, very much.”

Henry watched you throw your head back and licked his lips,trying to find the taste of you from last night.

“D’you need to be fucked again, Doctor?”

He was speaking softly, but resolutely now, his dulcet tones making you feel some kind of way.

“Ohhh, Henry… I’m still a little sore and swollen.”

Henry bit his lip. He didn’t want you to be discomforted, but the idea that he’d ruined you made him mad with need. He was panting as if he’d played a full rugby match and he was ready to burst inside his pants. 

“Are you? I should be there, to kiss that sweet little cunt. Soothe all her sore places with my tongue. D’you need that?” 

Henry stopped himself from calling you Love, but the pet name reverberated in his brain as he watched your beautiful face full of want for him.

“Yes Henry. Oh my goddd!”

You brought your hand up to your neck and Henry wished it was his.

“Lemme see those nipples, play with them for me, yeah?” 

You did as you were told and Henry watched as you filled your hands with yourself. He nearly cried at the sight. He instinctively rubbed his cock again, but he could control himself.

Couldn’t he?

With you he was not so sure, but there was no going back now, he had to see you through to your end.

“Feel that pussy for me, let her know how much I miss her already. Get in there, Love. Let me hear how much she aches for me.”

He’d let it slip. And he didn’t care. You didn't either. He could call you anything he wanted as long as he didn’t stop talking you through this need. 

“Oh… Hen-ry…”

Your mouth opened wider and your head was thrown back as your hands ventured further down your body.

“Are you circling that plucky little bud for me?”

“Y-yessssss.”

The stutter and the look on your face made him even bolder. Henry clenched his jaw and his fists to keep control.

“I’m not far from the hotel. Give me one before I get there. Be a good girl for me…you were so good last night…took my cock so well, although I’m sorry I hurt you.”

“I’m not…hurt so good Henry…”

Henry kept his eyes on you as you licked your lips and keened. You had him sweating 1500 miles away. 

“I wanted to fill you up and watch it drip out of you…”

“F-f-fuck…!” 

You were panting like a wild animal, and Henry swallowed the whine that was lodged in his throat with a growl. 

“Now stuff three of your pretty little fingers in that pretty little plump cunt. Cum for me. Give me something to dream about.”

You heard his fierce whisper and your eyes rolled as you tried to catch your breath. 

“H-h-henryyyy!”

Henry experienced three things: your beautiful face as you screamed with pleasure, his cock raging hard in the confines of his jeans, and his heart beating a mile a minute in his ears. Henry cursed under his breath and reached for the cold bottle of water provided by the car service. He took a swig, then closed it and put it on his forehead. 

Henry tried to collect himself as he listened to your breathing settle and watched you open your eyes slowly and smile shyly at him.

“Such a good girl for me. You alright?”

You hummed. 

“Yes, Mr. Cavill, Sir.”

Henry grinned. Maybe he had tamed the brat a little.

“Now. No more orgasms until I return.”

Henry the Dom was in full force. How was this your life? All you could do was smile at the fortune of having one of the sexiest men in the world lavish this attention on you. You decided to enjoy it while it lasted.

“Right.”

Henry cocked his brow at you. He hoped he looked hard. Because inside….Well, inside, he was all mush for you.

“What was that?”

“I mean, No Sir.”

Henry wanted to say a lot, but he needed to get on with his day; his first interview was in less than two hours.

“We will talk later, Doctor, before I board the redeye for London..”

“Of course, Mr. Cavill. Sir.”

Henry threw you a look as you winked and ended the call. He sighed and stepped out of the car, head full of you as he headed to the penthouse.

You climbed out of the bath and fell back into bed naked, dreaming of Henry in your arms.

—--

Three days later….

The picture you’d sent made Henry wild.  

It was an innocent picture of Kal, his snout resting on your bare thigh. It was exactly where he wanted to be.

“That rake. Trying to steal my girl,” he murmured to himself as he grinned at his phone.

“What’s that Hen?”

Henry looked up at the two men who were smirking at him over their brandies. Henry looked from Corey to Jamie’s face. He hadn’t heard a word they’d said.

“What?”

“You’ve not stared down at your lap and smiled like that since Year 7.” 

Corey knew Henry better than almost anyone.

“Who is it?”

Jamie was curious what had his mate so distracted. Henry’s head was in the clouds in between press for their movie that was being released, he was working out every spare minute, and he wasn’t looking at any of the lovely ladies that threw themselves at him, not even a little. 

Henry’s face lit up.

“I don’t even know where to begin. She’s… she’s amazing…”

Henry commenced to waxing poetic about you. 

When he finally took a breath, Corey asked, “Yeah, yeah.. But how does she look, lad?”

Henry grinned and flipped through the pictures that you’d sent him on request. He found one that was relatively tame, with you sitting ensconced in his sweatshirt and nothing else. All you could see was your freshly washed face, that smile, and those legs.

Corey whistled.

“There’s a looker!” 

He passed the phone to Jamie who looked at you and then up at Henry, who was beaming.

“That’s why you’ve been hitting the gym harder than usual. Working off that tension.”

Henry grinned.

“Yeah, she’s going to get it when I get back.”

Corey was quick to catch him.

“He’s saving himself? Oh shit. This is serious. When’s the wedding?”

Henry blanched.

“What?...No… we only just…”

“Henry. Did you notice the girl with the huge rack who’s walked by our table four times?”

Henry looked around the restaurant.

“Where? No…”

“She’s right there!”

Henry looked in the direction that Corey pointed.

“Her?” Henry laughed. “She’s… passable.”

Corey looked at Jamie and shook his head.

“You’re right, James. He’s gone. Raise a glass.”

Henry shook his head as Corey and James toasted and took a mockingly somber drink, then he clinked his own.

“Here’s to My Dear Doctor.”

“If she can tie you down, then cheers to Dr. Y/N!”

Henry shared a laugh with his friends.

“Now who wants to go on a run in the morning?”

—

Later that night:

Although it was after midnight for Henry, it was only after 7 where you were. But your insecurity permeated your conversation with him that night. You went on about his dating history and he railed against online gossip mongers. Finally, you said what you were really thinking.

“I am so not your type, Henry.”

Henry sighed.

“What are you on about?”

I’m a convenience while you’re in town. And you still think you want me because we’re practically sexting every moment of the day. I bet that if we didn’t talk until you had to come back, you’d forget all about me. You’ll find some beautiful English rose…”

“How much?”

“Hunh?” You were being thrown off of your rant.

“How much do you want to bet?”

“Henry….”

“We’ve got, what, 10 more days? 100 quid.”

You couldn’t believe him.

“You’re trying to make light of this. Don’t worry about it. I’m not upset Henry.”

“So you’re chicken?”

“I am NOT!” You huffed. “What is a ‘quid’? A pound? You’re betting me a hundred pounds?”

“I forgot how poor the dollar is. I’ll take it easy on you. 100 dollars US.”

“You have a deal Mr. Cavill.”

Henry grinned on the other end of the line. Your brat side would work to his advantage this time.

“Deal. No more phone calls. Just two texts a day. Good morning and good night.”

You were quiet a long time. Then you decided, if it was going to end, you should just go ahead and end it.

“Okay. Goodbye Henry.”

“See you soon, Doctor.”

—-----

Ten days after that conversation, you were feeding the sheep when Kal started barking and going crazy at the fence. You approached it and looked down the road to see Henry running toward you at an impressive pace.

Butterflies began to flutter in your belly. The last 10 days had sent you spiraling. Two texts a day were not enough. You missed Henry horribly, and you’d imagined him diddling half of Europe since you practically told him to. Well, you only had yourself to blame. You’d ruined a good thing, even if it were temporary.

You didn’t want to face him, but you had to give him his dog. You didn’t have much time prepare yourself because Henry’s time was good. He ran up and leaned on the fence as he greeted Kal. Then he looked up at you, hypnotizing you with those eyes and that smile of his. 

Damn, you’d missed his face.

Henry was unequivocally a goner. The sight of you made him light headed, the erratic nature of his heart not a good combination with the increase from running.

“Hello, Doctor. How are you?”

Henry smiling at you made you warm. It felt like you’d never been asked that question before and you wanted to tell him your life story, but you just said, “Fine. And you Mr. Cavill?”

Henry grinned at the formalities. You were still his incorrigible brat that he’d left in bed two weeks ago. 

His?

Yes, His, he decided as he watched you unlatch the gate enabling Kal’s attack. He laughed and rolled around in the grass with his pup and you watched fondly. You could get used to these two brutes. You tried to walk around them when Kal went after you too, tripping you up and causing you to fall onto Henry, straddling him as Kal barked excitedly beside you two. 

You looked into Henry’s eyes, feeling him beneath you. It wasn’t sexual, not quite, just familiar. Henry was being calm and his hands just rested on your sides as he grinned up at you. You wanted to hug him. But instead, you made to get up.

“S-sorry.”

“No problem at all, Doctor.”

You cleared your throat and stood up, placing your hands on your hips, grimacing at Henry, who was up now himself. His hair was haloed by the early morning sunlight, and he winked at you as he brushed himself off. Damn him and his perfect features.

“D’you want some water?”

Henry regarded you, solemn and intense, when a drop of sweet traveled from his hairline into his right eye. You felt like you were drooling as you watched his biceps flex as he wiped it away.

“You’ve read my mind.”

The timbre of his voice reminded you of that night on facetime, and your pulse quickened at the thought that you had indeed read his mind. You wanted him, and here he was acting like you were just acquaintances. He really had fooled around in Europe. You could have kicked yourself.

You turned and Henry followed you into your house, taking off his shoes and washing his hands as you did. You watched Henry gulp down the water and you kept your distance. Kal seemed content to give you both your space in the kitchen as he laid in the sunlight from the window in the dining room.

“Doctor, we need to talk.”

Your heart dropped. You knew it.

“There’s nothing to talk about. We talked already. You found someone else. Or had some random hookups. Just as I told you you would.”

Henry’s blood was starting to boil. He took a deep breath, but his voice still came out menacing.

“You are the most maddening woman.You don’t get to tell me what I want, or what I did or what I should do. Like you said, we don’t know each other that well. But I thought that we had an understanding, L/N…”

Now you were angry.

“What understanding? How can we have an understanding if we’ve never really talked. We just fucked. You were horny. I was there. We. Just. Fucked. That’s it. It was good. Now it is over.”

“Oh? It’s over is it? I’ve half a mind to turn you over my knee.”

You chucked your chin up at him like you were daring him.

Henry saw the glint in your eye and he knew what had to happen. Gentlemanly thoughts were out the window. He put the glass down and advanced on you.

You moved back and opened your mouth to reply, but what came out was a squeak. You closed it quickly

“That’s right, listen good, little mouse.”

He moved again and you stayed put.

“Yes. We fucked. We fucked and it was amazing. But we fucked because I’m insanely attracted to you in a myriad ways, not just because I wanted to fuck. You were right. I know how to smash and dash, Doctor, and this is not that.”

Henry paused to look into your eyes, to make sure you understood him. 

“I’m in awe of you. You’re a skilled professional, you’re kind, and gentle, and a nerd who loves to have a good time. You soothe me. You make me think and you make me go mad every time I think about how your body seems made for mine.”

You were inches apart, but he didn’t touch you. 

“I’m entirely and utterly smitten with you. And I’m afraid of the power you have over me Doctor. I’m supposed to behave as a gentleman, but you make it impossible.”

Then, he stepped back leaned up against your counter, running his hand through his curls. It was the counter where you first kissed. You smiled at him.

Henry eyed you warily and crossed his arms, showcasing his muscles and veins. You were dangerous. but he was going to be strong.

“What?”

“You mean that you didn’t get with anyone else when you were away?”

Henry sighed and rolled his eyes.

“No. Didn’t want to.”

He stood up straighter as you advanced on him now.

“This perfect specimen of a body?”

You pointed, just shy of touching him. Henry reached back and grabbed the counter to keep from grabbing you. 

You reached out and trailed your hand down his muscle shirt, stopping shy of the waistband of his shorts.

“And you’re willing to wait even longer?”

Henry cleared his throat.

“Yes.”

Henry’s voice broke and he caught your eye. At that moment, you knew your power.

“It’s just for you, Doctor. When you’re ready.”

You scoffed at him. And leaned up on tiptoe to whisper in his ear. 

“But this body is for the world, Mr. Cavill. After all, millions drool over it every day.”

Your lips brushed the shell of his ear, and Henry closed his eyes and suppressed a shiver. He gave in and reached for you, grabbing you and pulling your flush to him. He looked down, eyes sparkling.

“Maybe so, but how we feel pressed together is just between me and you.”

You looked into the softness of his eyes and you could tell he was sincere.

“But how can you know?”

“I just know that I know. I want to protect you, I want to comfort you… I want to...”

“Oh, Henry…”

You threw your arms around him and kissed him. He lay claim to your mouth again and after, he rested his forehead on yours, panting.

“I’m… I want to be a gentleman…Want to take you out. Wine…dine…”

You palmed him over his shorts and watched his eyes dilate.

“What if I take you out?”

Henry watched you lick your palm and reach into his sweats as he forgot to breathe.

“I- I …”   Henry looked down at what you were doing. “Careful…’

You looked up at him, determined now.

“I thought you were going to cum inside me and leak out of my pores.”

“Mmmmmmmmmother of god!” 

Henry clenched his jaw as he growled at you. 

“I do want to fuck you very badly, Doctor. But you deserve… to be treated….”

Henry’s voice faded away as you continued to stroke his rock hard length.

“It’s been 14 days. I deserve to be fucked. Hard. Need you ... please… Sir.”

You took his right hand and put it on your breast. He rolled your nipple through your shirt and then mirrored the gesture with his left. Henry had a brief thought that you were trying top him before his brain short circuited.

Before you knew it, you’d been spun around and your face was on the cool marble of your countertop. Henry pulled your leggings down to your ankles. You pulled one leg out and Henry hoisted it up on the counter. You leaned back and desperately grabbed at his curls.

“Please Henry, Give!”

He leaned over and whispered in your ear as his fingertips spread you wide. 

“Trust me Doctor, you will take. But first…”

Henry sank to his knees and whispered to your cunt.

“Been so long. Need to taste…mmmmmmm.”

You were pulled back onto Henry’s face as he buried his mouth into your wet crevasse. He hummed and smacked as if he were eating the best meal of his life. Henry certainly thought so. He destroyed your soul as he alternated fucking you with his tongue and licking you rudely throughout your entire crease.

After you came on his face, he took off your pants completely, and lifted you easily in his arms, walking a few feet to your couch.

Henry set you down face first before him, leaning down to whisper in your ear.

“You’re a venus, my dear Doctor.”

Henry’s thick fingers moved from your knee digging into the couch cushions up your thigh to the wetness dripping there. Four fingers found your slick and swiped, while his thumb ghosted your puckered hole.

“Mhmmmmm. Henry…”

“So responsive f’me. Want to be everywhere all at once.”

Henry enjoyed the feeling of his cock slipping in your wetness, the way you moved to try and get him inside you. He moaned knowing how much you wanted him too. His hands moved up from your hips to find your nipples under the top you were wearing and your moves became more wanton. Henry became irritated at the confines of your shirt. He reached for the hem.

“Take this off…There we go.”

He pulled you to him, your cool back against his warm torso, and he trailed his hands up and down your body.

“‘ve wanted my hands on you ever since I left…”

“Me too, Mr. Cavill.”

You’d turned your head to whisper, and Henry’s mouth captured yours in a kiss. You wiggled your ass against the pounding organ that was wedged between your cheeks, and he reached down to grab your hip to still you.

“Want my cock?”

You shook your head.

“No. Need it.”

And with that, you bent down again and looked over your shoulder at him, arching your back.

Henry gazed down at your presented ass and turned his head to the side, admiring, as that eyebrow raised and made you that much wetter.

“Yesss…” His blue eyes met yours. “I believe that you do.”

You whimpered and dropped your head, watching from below as Henry grabbed his cock at the base, his fingers splayed out against his big balls as he lined up and breached you with his rude, wide, mushroom tip. 

“Let me…”

The stretch burned deliciously, and both of you grunted as Henry eased into you, his length and girth making you question reality again. 

“…Slide into this warm…”

“Oh, Henry! Feels so-”

He cut you off.

“Shit! Love how you take it.”

“Oh god!”

You were almost sobbing at how good it felt.

“I feel you inside me.”

“D’you feel it getting bigger?”

You could hear the grin in his voice. You nodded and sobbed, the feeling indescribable.

“Stretching you out. So, so good.”

“Uh unhhh uhmmmmm. Missed you Hen...ry!”

“Me, too, Love. Me....too!”

Henry was moaning behind you as he smoothly thrust in and out of you, making it so good that your buried your head into the pillow and drooled into it between your screams of: “Oh my goddd!”

“Mmmm just like that, take it all for me.”

He delivered a sound slap to your behind and you keened.

“Love it when you take it all.”

He smacked you again.

“D’you like my cock?” he demanded.

“Mmmmyeah hmmm, I love itttt!”

Henry moved his hand around to your clit and started manipulating it.Then, he moved your hand to your sensitive nub as you whimpered.

“Now take over for me. Circle that clit. Justttt like that.”

You did as you were told, your legs shaking.

“Ohhh oh my god, Henry!”

“Just like that. Good girl.”

Henry smacked your ass yet again.

“Now keep it up.”

The stimulation was getting to be too much. This man knew how to fuck all of you, not just your body, but your mind.

“Henry…” 

Your plaintive wail was almost too much for Henry. Yet he persisted.

“M’ gonna fuck you….”

Your wetness was making what was now happening sound obscene, and served to get you closer to the orgasm he hadn’t given you permission to have yet.

“Oh god!”

You wanted to pull your hand away, but you obeyed his command.

“There…”

Henry swiveled his hips so that your insides lit up like a christmas tree as he fucked you.

“Please…”

You couldn’t breathe, and you were beginning to feel a certain pressure in your pelvis. You whimpered again as Henry made you feel every nerve ending in your body.

“…Just…. there…”

Henry’s thrusts were controlled and steady, despite feeling your cunt clenching in waves around him as you tried in vain to stave off your end.

“Oh yeah I like that.” 

He’d leaned down, hot breath in your ear.

“Oh I feel it Henry.”

“God yeah. Me too. You like that, Doctor?”

“Oh Godddddd!”

Henry pulled you upright and you struggled to keep circling your clit as your hips sped up of their own volition. You used two hands as Henry squeezed your hips, holding on as you bounced up and down on his dick. His eyes were glued to your bouncing tits. 

“Oh shit! Just there…bounce like that, yeah.” 

Henry’s mouth descended and latched on, sucking your jugular as you fucked yourself on him. His hands kneaded your bouncing breasts. He was in heaven.

“Use me, Baby. Make yourself feel good.”

“You’re so fucking big….”

Henry grinned into your neck.

“Feel it Doctor…” 

Henry was blowing in your ear as he suckled on your lobe now. He bent you back over, placing his hand between your shoulder blades so you would move your hands and deliver the arch. You were relieved yet still desperate. Henry looked down and groaned.

“Look at that cream.”

The timbre of Henry’s voice and the slapping of skin on skin was more than you could bear.

“Henry… Please! Can I cum?”

The slapping intensified as Henry sped up and got sloppy, losing control finally.

“Cum… now Doctor…”

Henry stroked into you fiercely, prolonging your orgasm until your spasming channel forced him out of you.

You both exclaimed in disappointment, and Henry in laughed as he kissed your neck and plunged back inside you, fucking you even harder now.

“Thank you for that. I was about to spill everything inside you and this would be over. Gave me a bit of a breather. Now give me that arch again.”

He bent you over again.

“Just there. Oh yeah… Looka there…that arch…yesss. Love that arch.”

He crossed his arms to hold your hips still so that he could go even harder.

“Am I fucking you properly?”

You were drooling and your eyes were rolling; you barely registered his question. Henry slapped your ass.

“Oh. Yesssss! Fuck yesss. Cock is so hard…so big.”

“Oh, shit…sssssss!”

Henry hissed as he felt his cum crawl up from his balls. 

“I….ugh… Henry!!!... I’m cuming…”

“M…Me toooo!”

—-

You were the little spoon to Henry’s big as he held you on your couch, the plaid throw covering your nakedness. You stroked Henry’s arm as he held you close.

“Did you spend the entire two weeks thinking that up?”

Henry leaned over to look at you, smiled, and kissed your nose. Then he relaxed again.

“That was entirely off the cuff. You’re an inspiration. A muse.”

“A sexual muse, hunh.”

Henry pulled you closer to him. 

“So much more than sexually. You inspire me in so many areas.”

You looked back at him quizzically. He just grinned.

“Come, lets get cleaned up and get dressed. And give me ride over to my place, would you? We have a brunch reservation in… two hours at The Orangery. I’m taking you out on the town.”

“And you can pay, because you owe me a hundred dollars.”

You realized that it was put up or shut up time as Henry grinned at you.

——

If you liked it, reblog and let me know!

#henry cavill #henry cavill x black reader #henry cavill x y/n #henry cavill fanfic #henry cavill x female reader #henry cavill x reader #henry cavill rpf #henry cavill imagine

[its-not-a-pen]

[餘智傳] The 2nd Century Warlord (Part 2)

based on the story by @romanceyourdemons

Read part 1

ninth day as a second century warlord i try to tactfully ask my fake liege lord if he sent the assassin to kill my loser liege lord and it turns out the idea of using assassins never occurred to him, but now that i’ve suggested it he’s really into it. in order to save my loser liege lord i volunteer to be the one to kill him

tenth day as a second century warlord on my way back to my loser liege lord’s city i realize i won’t be able to collect my men from my fake liege lord until i bring back my loser liege lord’s head. this would have been a great thing to think of before i got myself in this situation. i go back to my loser liege lord and ask him to rescue my men, and he tells me that if he could sack my fake liege lord’s camp he already would have. that doesn’t change the fact that my men are still trapped. they’re prisoners, even. i go back to my room to sulk

eleventh day as a second century warlord i find a little caged pigeon in the rafters of my loser liege lord’s room and deduce it belonged to the assassin. without asking permission or telling my loser liege lord goodbye i let the pigeon loose and follow it north. don’t ask what i was doing in my loser liege lord’s room. it’s not important

twelfth day as a second century warlord i disguise myself as a wizard and enter the camp of the coalition leader the pigeon led me to. in the middle of my little sleight of hand performance i make eye contact with the coalition leader’s second-in-command. IT’S THE WIZARD THAT STOLE MY LOSER LIEGE LORD’S WIFE. after the banquet i corner the fake wizard and ask him what the fuck is going on and he just says “wouldn’t you like to know” and leaves. i don’t know what to say to that so i just let him go

thirteenth day as a second century warlord i’m honestly so sick of not knowing what’s going on, so i adjust my wizard costume to passably disguise myself as a woman and break into the women’s area of the camp, where sure enough my loser liege lord’s wife is. i ask her what she’s doing here and she tells me the fake wizard overheard her singing a poem she overheard on the street, not knowing it contains the coalition leader’s formation’s weaknesses. the fake wizard kidnapped her and assigned an assassin to kill her husband before they figured out the poem’s significance. she shares the first couplet with me but i’m discovered and thrown out before she can share any more. she doesn’t need to. through a bizarre coincidence of homophones, it’s the poop version of my misinformation nursery rhyme

fourteenth day as a second century warlord i go back to my loser liege lord and tell him everything, urging him to join with my fake liege lord to attack the coalition leader according to the weaknesses in the nursery rhyme. he tells me frankly that he doesn’t trust me anymore. i ask him to execute me if that’s really true, because i can’t bear to live if i can’t protect him and i can’t protect my men. he agrees to attack the coalition leader

fifteenth day as a second century warlord. due to the information in the nursery rhyme, and thanks to my loser liege lord reminding me of the weather conditions multiple times while planning our battle strategy, our alliance carries the day. my loser liege lord gets his wife back. my men tell me that our fake liege lord actually treated them really well and they’d like to stay with him if i don’t mind. i do mind, now that neither the men i love nor the man i love have any use for me, but i don’t tell them that

sixteenth day as a second century warlord i’m preparing to leave to i don’t know where, maybe to try to become a wizard for real, when my loser liege lord stops me and asks me where i’m going. he says he had hoped i would continue to work as his advisor. i was unaware i was his advisor in the first place. i agree, and he tells me he’s truly honored to have me in his service at last. he has known i am a rare and talented man with a strategic intelligence far above his ever since the day he witnessed me tying branches to my horses’ tails in six inches of mud, and could not for the life of him figure out why

The end.

Thanks for reading! Notes under the cut

CORRECTION#1: the warlord's courtesy name was incorrectly written as Yú zhī 餘知 [plentiful knowledge]. my dumbass did not realise zhī 知 [to know] is a GOD DAMN VERB. It should be zhì 智 [wisdom].

CORRECTION#2: the clothes from part one are from the WRONG DYNASTY!!! BY 1200 YEARS!!!! it's meant to be HAN not MING.

#9 Misreading the standards: Loser Liege's name is Yue, so I decided to go with Lè/Yuè 樂 [optimistic/music]. I made the Chad Liege's name Cháo 巢 [nest] which is pronounced identically to Cáo 曹, the infamous IRL warlord. Just like his IRL counterpart, he is the affable, lawful-evil boss who is kind to his employees. I went ALL OUT designing Lord Chad Chao's outfit. He's got so much drip the yangtze river is about to break its banks. Now THAT'S a main character!

#10 Wardrobe Malfunction: the soldiers are now wearing clothes from the correct dynasty. i even gave them grass sandals! I really wanted to show how utterly outclassed they are, this is the difference between a peasant militia and a professional army. (They're in the exact same poses as part 1, except more terrified).

#11 mountain-water art: man i love doing traditional style backgrounds, the white space is very pleasing. Does it make sense to camp your coalition out in the mountains? No. Is it cool? Hella.

#12 you're a wizard, hairy: my favourite detail is the pigeon from day 11 sitting on the warlord's hat. I had to cut SO MUCH from this scene because there wasn't room. There was going to be musicians, jesters and strongmen. (Based of funerary figures)

I wanted to make it clear that the Coalition Liege is the richest guy of all, but he is all style and no substance. He's got an army of dancing girls and drunk officers. You get the feeling that his Chief Strategist aka Fake Wizard aka Zhuge Liang Knockoff, disproves.

#13 Hua Mulan: RIP the Warlord's beautiful beard ;n; He's wearing one of the dancing girl's outfits and I like to think the ladies helped him do his makeup too. I wanted to add a little character moment for the Wife and Warlord. They're holding hands which is not strictly proper, but I wanted to show the intensity of the emotions.

#14 the supplicant: I really like the framing here, I wanted both faces to be visible so we can see what they're thinking.

#15 enemy of my enemy: the Warlord is finally in command and flying his standard Huáng 黃 [yellow]. He is wearing a wu guan with two pheasant feathers, for a high ranking military official.

#16 the romantic subplot: the Warlord and his Loser are tenderly holding hands while the Wife and Noble Steed looks on with approval. I wanted the handholding to be slightly awkward and kinda spontaneous, like they were both aiming for a manly, platonic hand-clasp but veered wildly off-course into homoeroticism. In the background, an oblivious Lord Chad is showing off the little wooden horse one of his new soldiers gave him (that guy's been carving it since part 1, it's high time we acknowledged his hard work).

Want to learn more about the (mostly) true story that inspired this post? Check out Romance of the Three Kingdoms! TV show, the book and the movie Red Cliff,

#second century warlord #han dynasty #romance of the three kingdoms #history #thanks for reading guys i had a blast drawing this

[prettiestlovergirl]

hiii!! i love how u write theo and i was wondering if u could do another oral fixation!reader x cold!theo nott (it doesn’t have to be smut ofc, pls do whatever makes u comfortable, even if that means you don’t write this at all!!)

have a great night!

🎀 anon (if that’s not already taken ofc!)

oh, my love, i am sososo happy you asked me for this! idk why i have so much fun with cold! theo but i DO and the fact that you also love him makes me giddy hehe.

this is basically like a continuation of the last one! just a different nickname. (🎀 anon is all yours, babe!) i'm too lazy to add it to everything, bambola means doll! hope this lived up to your expectations. enjoy, my lovely! 𓆩♡𓆪

tw: MDNI; fem!reader; oral fixation! reader; princess! reader; jealousy; light hairpulling; fingering; unprotected sex (wrap it b4 you tap it); sarcastic banter; ends with some fluff; italian! theodore nott

currently, slytherin house was throwing a massive party in the common room. you guys had won in your game against ravenclaw, so of course you were all celebrating with loud music and an abundance of alcohol.

theo was looking for you. the two of you hadn't gotten a moment alone since the library incident he couldn't stop replaying on a loop in his mind.

wanting you was a bad idea. you were from two different worlds, you were polar opposites, but fuck did he need to have you again more than air.

even in a room full of people, his eyes always found you first. unfortunately (for the other guy) you were in the middle of a dance with some guy from the year above you two.

your face was flushed from dancing, your eyes sparkling with joy and laughter as the guy spun you around. your hair was in a ponytail, and he had the sudden urge to wrap it around his fist and tug you to him.

all it would take is one little tug and you would be all his for the taking, the douchebag with his hands on you didn't stand a fucking chance against him.

theo remained cool and composed, but his eyes? his eyes gave everything away. they showed the jealousy sparking deep within him, one misplaced hand away from starting a fire.

you must have been able to feel the heat of his stare on your skin, because you turned your head around and were instantly met with theo's dark gaze.

your breath hitched and the previous smile on your face was wiped as theo approached, instantly wrapping his arms around you. he made a point to place his hand just above douchebags.

"bambola, you didn't tell me you made a new friend." theo mused, his cool and collected smile masking the jealousy, rage, and sudden desire to snap and beat the shit out of this guy for even looking at you, let alone touching you.

"hey, man, who the fuck are you?" douchebag scoffed, his arms still on you as bodies continued to sway and party around you. "someone who's going to kick your pathetic ass if you don't get out of here in the next five seconds."

douchebag looked like he wanted to argue, but the murderous glint in theo's eyes and the fact that he started lifting his fingers in a countdown finally scared him away.

"what the hell was that?!" you huffed, stepping away from his grasp and placing your hands on your hips. "i really like ethan!" you hissed, noticing the muscle tick in his jaw as you said his name.

"you can do better, bambola. he scared too easy, he's not worth your time." theo said coolly, slight smirk on his face as you rolled your eyes. "oh, because you're better? please-"

"you really think you would have enjoyed yourself with him, bella? you think he would have made your eyes roll the way i did? think his fingers would compare to mine? i can still hear your pretty little whimpers, darling."

a shiver ripped through your body at his words, lips parting in surprise at hearing the normally so calm and proper theodore nott speak such filthy words with ease.

"you've got five minutes to meet me by the stairs, bambola... or i've throw you over my shoulder and drag you up myself." he purred in your ear, his voice low and dark and raspy with desire.

of course, you followed theo out almost immediately. you would have been a fool not to follow him, especially with the way you couldn't help but replay the scene of you two in library every time you closed your eyes.

anticipation fluttered beneath your skin as you and theo walked up the stairs to the boy's dormitory. there was an aching pressure between your thighs as you walked, his hand on the small of your back burning so hot he was practically branding you.

you couldn't take your eyes off him the moment you stepped into the room. you hadn't uttered a word the whole way up, but you didn't have to: you both knew exactly what was going to happen tonight.

theo leaned back against the canopy of his bed, arms crossed as his eyes burned into you. "come here." he finally commanded; voice soft as he rolled the sleeves of his shirt up his forearms.

you did as told, walking step by step until your bodies nearly collided. "fuck, bambola. you don't know what you do to me." he murmured before finally crashing his lips down onto yours in a rough, deliberate kiss.

his hand fisted your hair, holding you tightly as his teeth tugged at your bottom lip. he shifted a bit, sinking down onto his mattress and helping you straddle him with ease.

he pulled away after a moment, watching the way your chest heaved as you attempted to catch your breath before he left a trail of hot, fiery kisses down the side of your neck.

you could feel his cock digging into your skin through his boxers, drawing a soft whine out of you as you started to gently grind down against him.

he groaned against your neck, his hand sliding up your inner thigh until it reached your soaked panties. he pressed his palm firmly against your pussy, making you moan out in surprise and need.

"fuck, you're so wet." he groaned, dipping his hand into your panties and pushing two fingers inside your puffy walls. your eyes squeezed shut as you moaned, forehead leaning against his as you relished in the agonizingly delicious stretch.

"theo..." you gasped, mouth falling open as he buried his fingers to the hilt and immediately pressed his thumb against your swollen clit. "fuck, your roommates are gonna come up and see us." you whimpered, sweating beading on your forehead.

"no, they won't, bella." theo hummed, his voice maddeningly calm compared to your breathy whimpers. he brought his free hand up to your lips, pushing his thumb into your open mouth, effectively keeping you from asking more questions.

you rolled your hips down against him, desperate for more as he continued to slowly drag his thumb over your clit while his fingers rubbed against your walls. "need you to fuck me, please." you begged, coating his thumb in your saliva.

"ask me again." he demanded, voice still calm and collected as your tongue swirled around his thumb. "fuck me, theo. i need you to fuck me." you pleaded, opening your eyes to look right at him as he pulled his fingers out of you.

he flipped your positions, pushing you back against the mattress. his fingers made quick work of your clothes, stripping you completely bare for him. he ran his tongue over his lower lip, mouth going dry as he admired just how fucking gorgeous you were.

his gaze was almost predatory as he admired you before leaning down, kissing his way to your chest and taking a nipple into his mouth. he licked and tugged and teased while you squirmed and whimpered underneath him.

one hand gripped your hip tightly, it was definitely going to leave a fresh bruise on your skin but you didn't care. his other hand went down to quickly rid himself of his pants and boxers before lining himself up with you.

"look at me, bambola." he said roughly, waiting until your eyes were back on his. you nearly gasped when you saw him, the theodore nott in front of you was someone you could hardly recognize.

his usually perfect hair was tussled, his sweat making it stick to his forehead, and his eyes were pools of black and desire. "please." you begged, your voice hoarse with desire.

he kept direct eye contact with you as he finally pushed inside of you, inch by torturous fucking inch. it was sweaty and intimate and you'd never wanted this moment to end.

as he bottomed out, your mouth finally opened in a tortured moan. he lifted two fingers back into your mouth as he started to move slowly. you happily swirled your tongue around his fingers, thankful for the feeling as he started to pull back out.

he pulled out all the way until it was just the tip of his cock still inside before thrusting back inside of you. he thrusted deeper, faster, harder, and you wrapped your legs up around his waist to pull him closer.

after that, you could no longer form any thought that wasn't about how good his cock felt pounding into your desperate, soaked pussy. your tongue swirled around his fingers as you moaned and bucked your hips up to meet his thrusts.

tears streamed down your cheeks as he fucked into you, lips pressing kisses and bites all over your chest while your nails dug into his back. "look at you, bambola. already weeping from how good my cock is fucking your sweet little pussy."

your eyes rolled into the back of your head, the filthy words coming from him practically tipping you over the edge. "fuck, fuck, theo, 'm gonna cum, fuck!" you cried, toes curling as your orgasm crashed into you like a wave.

his controlled, deliberate thrusts quickly grew erratic. he let out a hiss as your nails scraped his skin, his teeth sinking into your shoulder as he fucked into you. he pulled out a few moments later, coating your stomach in his cum.

you laid there while he got a rag to quickly clean you up, letting you stay collapsed and boneless against his sheets. theo being theo, he had to at least put your things in a pile before eventually laying beside you.

your eyes were closed, but you could feel his eyes staring at you intently. you finally opened one eye, staring at him as you yawned. "what?" you asked, biting your kiss-swollen lip.

"nothing, nothing it's just... i think this might be the longest i've ever heard you go without talking." he teased, a smirk on his face as his shoulders shook with laughter.

you wanted to be mad, you really did, but it was so impossibly hard to be mad when you heard him laugh. he was always so composed, so stoic. any time you could crack through his persona was a success in your eyes.

"mean!" you laughed, reaching up to smack his chest. he grabbed your arm before you could hit him and he tugged you in close. he pressed a soft, gentle kiss on the chunk of skin he'd bitten earlier before covering you with a sheet.

"you're mine, bambola, and now that i have you? i'm not letting you go any time soon."

ᵈⁱᵛⁱᵈᵉʳ ᵐᵃᵈᵉ ᵇʸ @ᵐᵘʳᵘᶠᶠⁱⁿ

#☆lola writes ! #☆ lola's requests ! #☆ my lovely 🎀 anon #theodore nott #theodore nott smut #theodore nott x you #theo nott x reader #theodore nott x reader #mwah <3

[1d1195]

Toothpaste I

For you: 🐱 I hope you are feeling better and this is a little something to make you happy. Been thinking about this for a while.

~1.6k words

“Okay, don’t write emails to dentists when you’re in pain,” she shook her head tilting her head back to look at the ceiling.

Dr. Styles chuckled. His laugh was warm, like a chocolate fountain. Or a blanket on a cold January day. “I don’t have patients on Wednesdays,” he murmured.

Twenty-eight was her least favorite number. She dreaded the entire year when she finally hit her twenty-eighth birthday. It seemed like an entire year was going to mock her and she was right.

She got two cavities that year.

Twenty-eight was the number of teeth she had left after her wisdom teeth were pulled when she was sixteen. Twenty-eight was the number of brackets on her teeth that held her braces together when she was eighteen. Cavities plagued her. Sensitivity. Special mouth wash and special toothpaste were needed for the upkeep of her teeth.

When the pain started in her mouth again, she was frustrated, exhausted, and sad.

But this was the second time this tooth had to be filled. It wasn’t the first time her dentist had to fill a tooth more than once. She looked up a second office in response. Her heart was fluttering with anxiety. She had brought a book to read but she couldn’t focus. Her head was starting to ache. She left work early which stressed her out to no end because her boss was a dick and even though she should have just found a new job, she knew she wouldn’t find a better pay entry-level position than any law firm nearby. Her phone hadn’t stopped vibrating with messages and requests.

An hour. All she wanted was an hour to read her book and mourn the loss of her tooth enamel. Frustrated tears filled her eyes. Her mouth hurt and her head hurt.

“Dr. Styles is ready for you, Miss,” the hygienist said sweetly. Taking a deep breath, she collected her book back into her bag and headed toward the patient room with the hygienist down the hall. “Have a seat,” she smiled kindly. “M’just going to get you ready and then Dr. Styles will be in to look you over.”

She could feel her phone vibrating against her hip. The to do list she was anticipating was enough to amplify her headache and she was so close to crying the pain in her tooth was practically welcomed to relieve her of the anxiety and stress she was feeling.

“Good morning, love,” the dentist came in. Dark blue scrubs adorned his tall frame. He looked so handsome it left her speechless. He was looking at the computer reading over the history of her work and latest x-rays from the previous office. “Got some pain, hmm?” She nodded silently, trying to figure out how she didn’t know ahead of time that the dentist was hot as could be. That couldn’t be fair. “Y’okay, love?” He hummed glancing from the screen, his eyebrows pinched together.

“Yeah, just uncomfortable,” she murmured. “Busy day.”

He sat on the little wheelie stool and turned to look at her. His eyes were vibrantly green, his smile was sweet but sympathetic at the same time. “S’quite a bit of work y’had done, love,” he murmured and grabbed a pair of gloves to put on. “Y’got beautiful teeth in there,” he assured her.

“They’re always filled with cavities,” she muttered bitterly.

“M’sorry,” he frowned. “I noticed that myself, actually.” She felt like she was disappointing him by getting cavities. Although she had just met him, she didn’t want to disappoint Dr. Styles, which was such a bizarre worry. “Do y’need t’get that before I get started?” He glanced at the bag by her hip.

She sighed, grabbed her phone. “Hello?”

“Where are you?” Her boss snapped so loudly she pulled the phone from her ear. Either Dr. Styles didn’t hear (which she didn’t see how) or he was being kind enough to ignore it.

“A dentist appointment. I sent you an email and put it in your calendar—”

“I need your help. Now.”

There was no argument to be had in his tone.

“Mr. Dalecki,” she started. “I’m very sorry, I’ll be there in a bit but I’m in so much pain—” Her voice cracked, and she felt the tears so close to the surface. Overwhelmed by her work and her pain.

“I don’t care.”

She opened her mouth to agree or argue, she wasn’t sure what was going to come out of her mouth but then suddenly her phone wasn’t in her hand.

“Mr. Dalecki, was it?” Harry said into the phone. “Dr. Harry Styles. She’s in immense pain and I’m insistent I take care of her cavity today. It might be a root canal. She’s in no condition to work today and probably not tomorrow either. Doctor’s orders. I’ll write her a note whatever you need, but she will not be in today,” Harry put her phone on the counter away from her as it started to vibrate again. “M’sorry I suggested getting it,” he said and held out the tissue box on the counter.

She sniffled. “I need a root canal?” She whimpered.

He chuckled. “Oh, love, no. M’sorry. I jus’ wanted that man off the phone,” he shook his head. “M’sorry,” he repeated.

“Oh,” she sniffed again. “I’m really sorry. I’m so overwhelmed and upset. I’m almost terrified of being here. I always have issues and my teeth are the worst,” she cried. “I’m sorry.”

“Hey, s’alright, love,” he assured her and put a reassuring hand on her shoulder. “Y’take care of your teeth right?” He asked.

“Religiously,” she assured him. “I brush three times a day. I floss daily sometimes twice. I use prescription toothpaste and mouthwash. I don’t eat lots of candy and I drink through a straw and water down juice or anything too sugary,” she had tears falling down her cheeks.

“Okay, love,” his thumb gently moved up and down her shoulder. She had never heard of a dentist having good bedside manners. “S’okay, m’gonna take a look now. Can I have y’sit back?” He murmured and slid back briefly on the chair and closed the door. She sniffled.

“I’m so sorry. I’m usually more put together than this,” she laughed tearily.

“S’okay I can tell y’frustrated. M’sister gets like this sometimes.”

She sniffled. “I’m sorry,” she repeated.

He turned back, put a mask over his pretty face so she had no choice but to look at his gorgeous eyes magnified by the little glasses and light that shone in her face. “Y’have really nice teeth, love,” he assured her.

“You have to say that to everyone,” she mumbled when he turned to mark something in the computer.

He chuckled. “I do not. M’sorry you’re in pain, love,” he was gentle as he placed the little mirror into his mouth. “Hmm,” he hummed.

“S-bad, in’-it?’

“No, love. S’not bad,” he murmured quietly. “Relax y’fingers and shoulders, please. Y’making me nervous,” he chuckled very softly. Like he had stuck his dental tools in her mouth a hundred times. “S’jus’ a little cavity.”

Tears sprang back to her eyes, and she nodded. “I figured.”

“M’sorry, love. S’little, though I promise. Out of here in half an hour. No root canal—I promise.”

She sniffed and glanced away. “I’m sorry,” she apologized again. “I’ve had such an overwhelming week and I put this off and it’s not even a big cavity and I’m in so much pain—” She started to cry again, and Harry pulled the glasses and light off his eyes and listened so intently, his face empathetic and kind as she bubbled with tears. She could hear her phone vibrating. “I’m pretty sure I’m going to get fired,” she croaked.

Harry frowned, turned to the cabinets, and searched for medicines to help her. He pulled his gloves off. “Let’s jus’ sit and relax for a bit,” he suggested handing her two pills and filled a little cup of water for her. She wiped her eyes and took it gratefully.

“Don’t you have other patients?”

“No,” he chuckled. “That intake form y’filled out?” Dr. Styles turned to the computer again and cleared his throat. “I am sorry to bother you, but I am in so much pain and need emergency dental help tomorrow if you’re able. My current dentist has filled this tooth twice and I think I’m going to yank the tooth out with pliers, and I don’t HAVE pliers so I will have to go buy some and I will probably pull it out in the middle of the hardware store and everyone will—”

“Okay, don’t write emails to dentists when you’re in pain,” she shook her head tilting her head back to look at the ceiling.

Dr. Styles chuckled. His laugh was warm, like a chocolate fountain. Or a blanket on a cold January day. “I don’t have patients on Wednesdays,” he murmured. Her heart skipped a beat. His kindness was unlike any dentist she had before. It felt so unnerving but nice in the best way. “But I made an exception,” he explained. “Couldn’t imagine someone pulling out a tooth at a hardware store.”

Her heart was fluttering. “I hate dentists.”

He laughed, wholeheartedly. “Even me?”

“Well...you haven’t drilled my tooth yet,” she mumbled. “But you might have gotten me fired.”

“I couldn’t in good faith let y’go back t’work, love. Not when you’re in so much pain.”

She looked at her lap. “I always have cavities.”

“M’gonna get to the bottom of it, love. Right after we fill this little guy.”

“My second bicuspid?”

“Should have been a dentist, hmm?” he smirked at his computer making notes.

“I’ve had so much work done,” she explained. “Half way through law school I thought about becoming a dentist.”

“Well, if he does fire you,” he turned back to her with a pointed expression. “And based on the reaction y’had, I think only an idiot would fire you. I’d gladly have y’work here,” he assured her. “Match whatever he paid you and then some,” he promised.

She frowned, feeling overwhelmed, sad, and relieved beyond belief.

“Thank you, Dr. Styles.”

“Call me Harry, love.”

--

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[avastrasposts]

A Baker's Dozen**

Another Pedro boy returns to the bakery universe, one that I had to give a second part because of how I left it. It took me a bit of time to write this one because it was threatening to turn into a whole series, but I want to keep the bakery AU a collection of short, fluffy stories so I contained myself at 8k....

There will be smut, soft Pedro boy, sourdough references and mentions of blood.

Every morning you check your jewelry box, look for your grandmother’s wedding band. And every morning it’s missing. You cling to that small truth. The wedding band is missing and that means Pero wasn’t a dream. He took it with him when he disappeared, and somehow it remained with him until his death, if the news article about the 11th century grave containing a 20th century ring is to be believed. 

You miss him. You miss him so much it hurts even though he was in your life for just a few hours. He was like no other person you’d met, and not only because he was from the 11th century. You have to stop yourself and think, was he really from the 11th century? Could it have been a trick? You almost wish it had been, because that would mean that he’s still here, in your time. You’d forgive him for tricking you, if only it meant you could see him again. 

But you never see him again, even though you look at every person you pass in the street. And when it storms, when thunder and lighting rolls in over the city, you can’t stay indoors. In your little car you scour the streets, the highways, the back alleys, looking for a dark haired man in strange clothes trying to make his way back to you. But a year passes, and you tell yourself you have to stop looking. The next time it storms you curl up in bed and try to remember every detail about him, from the viscous looking scar across his eye, to the softness of his lips. But you don't go looking for him, you force yourself to stay in bed. 

You fall asleep and dream about him, and it’s like you’re awake. You stretch in your bed, the soft morning light spilling through the curtains onto the other side of the bed where the sheets have been tossed aside. The smell of coffee drifts through the house and when you sit up, gold glimmers on your left hand. With wonder you twist the wedding band around your finger and suddenly you know who’s clattering around downstairs. In only your nightie you run downstairs and almost skid into the kitchen, and there he is. As dark haired and broad as you remember him, his eyebrows pulled together in concentration as he pokes the eggs in the pan. 

“Hermosa, you’re up! I was going to bring you breakfast in bed,” he huffs with a smile as he sees you and you hurry across the kitchen to wrap yourself around him when he turns and holds out his arms for you. 

With a jolt you jerk awake, your bedroom dark and cold and the dream fading as longing wells up inside you. You hold up your left hand and it’s as bare as it was when you went to bed and you can’t help the tears that well up, a sob wracking your body. 

Thunder rolls through the sky above your house and a flash of lightning briefly brightens your room. Before your mind has even considered it, your body has carried you out of the bed, and you’re running down the stairs, fumbling with the lock on your backyard sliding door. Wrenching it open, you hurl yourself out into the rain, shouting his name. 

“Pero! Pero!” 

In an instant you’re soaked, your pajama pants and t-shirt sticking to your body as you spin in place, searching for someone you deep down know isn’t there. 

“Pero…” you choke, sinking down on your knees in the grass, digging your fingers into the soggy surface, deep breaths heaving your chest as grief turns to rage.  

“Bring him back to me!” you scream, “Bring him back! Bring him back!” 

You pound your fists into the ground, screaming at the universe for letting you fall so fast and so hard, and then taking him away. Your voice rips, cursing all the gods for their cruelty, demanding that whoever is in charge brings him back to you. 

But the universe remains indifferent to your pain, your rage. The rain continues to fall, the thunder rumbles and nothing changes. 

Eventually you’re forced back onto your feet, shivering in your wet sleepwear. You turn and look around your garden one last time, as empty as always. You look back to the house, biting back a sob and a lightning flash illuminating the dark windows, and you stumble. The mud under your hands squelches as you smack down into it, splattering your shirt and face and you have half a second to think about how you don’t have mud in your backyard. 

“Down!” 

A man shouts right behind you, a hard hand forcing you down to the ground, and then he charges forward. You glance up, confused, and see three men readying for battle, sharp swords lifted in fighting positions. In front of them, a fourth man stands, the one who shoved you down, his own two swords lifted and twirling effortlessly in his hands. 

It’s a blur, the rain is still pelting down, the trees above you cast strange shadows, and the dark haired man moves so fast it turns into a blur. Dim light glints off his blades, but then one sinks deep into the chest of the first man, while the other slices open the throat of the second, and the swords are dulled by the thick liquid that coats them. The third man staggers backwards, dropping his own sword, but it’s pointless, he chokes as a sword slips through his neck. 

The fourth man stops, his back turned, swords raised as if he’s waiting for another attack. When none comes, he slowly turns and you stumble to your feet, wiping your muddy hands on your wet pants. You already know it’s him, who else would it be? But seeing his face floods your heart, both fear and love fights for space. Love for the man, fear that he won’t know you. But then he takes four long steps towards you, his blades sliding into their scabbards, and he’s on you. Hands cup your face, his mouth claims yours in a hard kiss and you almost stumble again, wrapping your arms around him. Your teeth clash, his lips will bruise yours, and his fingers dig into your jaw but all you want is for him to hold you tighter. 

“You’re here,” he mutters, still pressed against your lips, “you’re real.” 

“You’re real too,” you sob, tears welling up in your eyes for the umpteenth time this confusing night, and Pero kisses your cheeks, drying them with his thumbs. 

“I have so much to ask you, but now we must run, hermosa. Those men did not come alone and I can’t fight them all. Come!”

He takes your hand and hurries through the underbrush, leading you to a clearing where a horse is tied to a tree. 

“Can you ride?” he asks, giving you a hand up in the saddle. 

“Yes, but it was a long time ago,” you reply as he swings himself up behind you. 

“Just grip on to him with your legs, I won’t let you fall,” Pero says, gathering the rains and urging the stallion forward. He has one arm around your waist, one hand holding the reins and you can feel his legs guide the horse underneath you both. Soon you’re out on the road and riding hard, Pero urging his horse to pick up speed as your old skills come back to you. You rock with the rhythm of the horse’s gait, holding on to the pommel. Pero sweeps his heavy wool cloak around you both, trapping his body heat close to you. 

“You’re shivering, hermosa,” he mutters, just audible over the drum of the hoofs, “Of all the times to appear…” 

You can’t judge time, but Pero keeps the horse at a steady canter for what feels like an eternity. Not until dawn breaks and a small town comes into view does he slow down. The storm still rages and you are both soaked to the bone.  

“There is a good inn here, I’ll get us a room,” he says, “get us warm and dry.” 

“Are we safe now?” you ask with a yawn, the adrenaline is wearing off and you feel your eyes getting heavy despite the shivers that wrack your body. 

“Yes, bandits won’t follow into towns as big as this one,” he replies, tightening his grip on you, “And you’re safe with me, hermosa.” 

You just nod, your eyes widening as the horse slows to a walk and you ride through a large gate in the solid stone wall. The streets are fairly empty but some people are moving about, starting the day as the rain continues to fall. Your nose wrinkles as the smell hits you, the pong of dung from any number of animals, food scraps, unwashed clothes, human waste mixes with the aroma of fresh bread, food cooking and wood fires. 

“Where are we?” you ask, watching a young boy drive three pigs down the street and towards the gate. 

“Provins, in France,” Pero replies, “It’s a good town, I’ve been through here many times.” 

“When are we?” you ask in a lower voice, turning your head so that you can whisper in his ear. 

“1033,” he replies, “I ask every priest I meet these days, just in case.” He gives you a small smile, the fine lines around his eyes crinkling, “I cannot believe you are here, I’ve been looking for so long.” 

“You were looking for me?” 

“I could not figure out how to get back to you, so I thought perhaps you might be able to follow,” he says, “How did you do it?” 

“I don’t know,” you reply, honestly, “I was looking for you too, every storm I went out looking for you but nothing never changed. Then last night there was another storm and I was shouting at the sky to bring you back, but nothing happened. When I was soaked and cold I turned to go back to the house and the next thing I knew, I was face down in the mud.” 

“Maybe you will go back just as suddenly,” Pero says, his voice low, “but I will keep you safe until then, like you kept me safe in your world.” 

He turns the horse into the stable yard of an inn and halts. 

“Here, keep the cloak wrapped tight around you, do not show the clothes underneath to anyone,” he says, making sure you are covered, before he swings himself off the stallion. He helps you down, carrying you to the threshold of the inn when he realizes you have no shoes on. 

“Wait here, I will get the stable boy to take care of Guerrero.” 

He’s back after just a minute, the saddle bags slung over his shoulder, shaking his wet hair out of his eyes. Wrapping his arm around your waist, he pushes the door of the inn open with the other. The innkeeper looks over at the two of you and instantly recognizes Pero. 

“Tovar! My old friend! Come in, come in, so good to see you!” he calls, making his way through the mostly empty inn. 

“Guiscard, it’s been a while,” Pero replies, clasping hands with the man. “I would like you to meet my wife, we were caught in the storm and I need a room and hot water if you can. I need her to warm up.”

Guiscard looks surprised at the mention of a wife, slapping Pero on the shoulder with a booming laugh. 

“A wife, Tovar? You have been gone a long time! Madam, I hope this scoundrel makes you very happy,” he says the last at you with a wide, friendly, grin and you give him a weak smile in return. “And because this man saved my life and my livelihood, I will make sure you have the best room and plenty of hot water brought up. Come, this way.” 

The innkeeper leads the two of you up a flight of stairs and to a room at the end of the hallway. You all but stumble over the high threshold and Pero steadies you. 

“Merci, Guiscard,” he says, “I will be down in a little bit to speak with you.” 

“Of course, of course, take care of your wife first, Tovar, no rush.” 

He closes the heavy wooden door behind him as he leaves and Pero guides you to the bed, big enough for two, in the middle of the room. 

“I will get the fire lit but you should take off your wet clothes and get into bed. I have a spare shirt for you to change into but I will go out in a little while and arrange for new clothes for you,” he says, peeling back the heavy quilt on the bed. 

“I need to wash, I’m covered in mud,” you say, looking down at your bare feet, your hands and forearms dirty too. 

“Guiscard will send the maid up with hot water,” Pero kneels by the fireplace as he speaks, “you can warm up and get clean.” 

“What about you?” you ask, looking at the water dripping off Pero’s armor and pooling on the rushes that cover the floor, “You need to get dry too.” He soon has the fire roaring and you move closer to it, the warmth making your cold body shiver again. 

“I’m used to being soaked, but I’ll dry off when I know you are taken care of,” he says, unbuckling his armor and swords before pulling a dry shirt from his pack. 

“Take that off, hermosa,” he urges you again, “and put this on.” He hands you the large shirt, big enough to be a dress on you. “You can change behind the screen,” he says, pointing to the corner where a part of the room is shielded from view. “Clean up, and I’ll go see Guiscard about getting some food.” 

“Pero, wait,” you take hold of his arm, his wet shirt sticking to his skin, “I…I don’t know how long I have here, don’t leave yet. You only stayed a couple of hours in my time and it’s already been the whole night.” 

There’s a clap of thunder outside as if to illustrate how precious your time is, and you flinch, your grip on Pero’s arm tightening. He glances over at the window where the rain is pelting against the shutters, and then looks back at you, covering your hand on his arm with his own. 

“You’re right, I’ll stay, I’ll send the maid.”

“Then get dry, and I’ll clean up,” you say, reluctantly letting go of Pero’s arm, “and hopefully I won’t vanish too soon.”

Pero gives you a small, crooked smile, but you feel like it mirrors your own churning insides. You have so many questions for Pero, you want to spend so much time with him, and you feel like every second could be your last before you’re pulled back again. 

There’s a knock on the door and Pero lets the maid in, taking two buckets and a jug from her. Sending her back to the kitchen for food and drink, he fills the wash basin with the water and you roll up the long sleeves on Pero’s shirt. 

Quickly you wash the mud off your feet and arms, scrubbing the skin with the cloth the maid left. Behind you, you hear Pero’s wet clothes come off and he hangs them over a rack in the corner. When you crawl under the quilts in the bed he’s lacing up a dry pair of breeches and you’re momentarily mesmerized by the sight of his bare torso. He’s lean and muscular, as you expected by the way his body felt against yours. But you hadn’t thought he’d have so many scars, even a fresh one, still pink, running down his bicep. His chest has a viscous looking gash across the right side, on his shoulder sits an uneven knot of scar tissue, and another thin scar slithers down his side. It’s a map, a visual reminder of how violent his life is, and you’re reminded again of how easily he’d killed the three men when you first arrived. 

Pero ties the strings and looks up, meeting your gaze, catching you staring at his chest. He scowls, the first time you’ve seen him fall back into the face that was almost permanent on him when you first met. 

“Do they disgust you?” he asks, his voice a low growl and eyebrows pulled tight together.  

“What? No!” you sputter, “No, not at all!” You put your hand out towards him, reaching for him, but he’s too far away. “I was just thinking how different your life is from mine, how much more violent yours seems. Please, Pero…” You leave your hand out, pleading with him to come closer, and he hesitates for a few seconds, and then he moves, taking your hand and letting you pull him onto the bed. 

“No?” he asks, sinking down on the mattress, “you’re not repulsed by it?” 

You shake your head, trying your hardest to not trace your fingers across the scar on his chest. 

“You asked the same thing about the scar on your face and I said no then too.” 

“Your world is so clean and orderly, mine is dirty and violent,” he says, his hand still wrapped around yours. You can feel the rough calluses on it and the stroke of his thumb over your skin. 

“People still have scars,” you reply, glancing down over his chest again. How do you tell him now that you’re not really looking at his scars after all, but at the way his wide shoulders seem to dwarf you, and how the dark hairs on his stomach are tantalizing you with the way they disappear beneath the edge of his breeches. 

A flash of lightning brightens the dim room, thunder following only a few seconds behind, and you jump. Pero grabs you, both hands flying to your arms and digging into your flesh, and you’re suddenly pressed against him, your nose only inches from his. You know your eyes are wide as saucers as you stare into his dark brown pools, and he exhales, loosening his grip on you slightly. 

“I wonder if I’ll come with you if I hold you when you disappear,” he whispers as your arms wrap around him.

“Do you want to go back?” you ask and Pero shrugs. 

“I wanted to go back to find you again, now that you’re here, I don’t care, just as long as you don’t disappear again.” 

He pulls back the quilts and tries to tuck you in but you stop him. 

“If I’m your wife for only one day, then I want to share the bed with you, Pero,” you say, giving him a small smile as his eyebrows shoot up in surprise. 

“We’re not really married, hermosa, you’d share your bed with me anyway?” he asks, but he’s already folding, letting you pull him down into the bed, he doesn’t seem to have any will to resist. 

“Married or not, it doesn’t really matter in my time. My reputation won’t be ruined by sleeping in the same bed as a man who’s not my husband.” 

“I think I like your time better than mine,” Pero grins at you as you get comfortable next to him. 

“I like whatever time you’re in, Pero,” you smile at him, reaching up and gently stroking your finger across the scar on his face, making him briefly close his eyes. Another flash of lightning brightens the room, making you jump and Pero pulls you in tight as his eyes fly open again. 

“No leaving yet, hermosa,” he mumbles and you nod. 

“No leaving yet.” 

He’s so close, his worried eyes looking down at you, and you can see every shade of brown in his irises, the dark eyelashes casting shadows on his cheeks as his warm breath touches your lips. Without thinking, you close the gap and kiss him, his soft lips parting as you touch them. The first kiss, the one in the forest when he first saw you, was hard, leaving bruises on your lips. This one is delicate, tentative, there is time to explore. Or at least you hope there is time, the thunder is still rumbling outside, it sits at the back of your mind that every second could be your last with him. Pulling him down, settling his weight on top of you, you make him wrap his arms around you, as you bury your fingers in his still damp hair. His body is warm, almost hot, driving the chill from your bones as he continues to kiss you, his tongue tasting your mouth as a small moan escapes. Pero pulls back a little at that, suddenly smiling down at you. 

“You like that, hermosa?” he chuckles in a low, hushed voice. 

“I do, I like your kisses a lot,” you reply, pulling him down again and he comes willingly with a wide smile. He nips at your bottom lip, chuckling against you when you moan again, before he continues his exploration. You can feel him grow hard against your leg, his well worn breeches doing nothing to contain his arousal. Shifting your body under him, you make sure your thigh brushes over his cock, and you’re rewarded with a strained groan from him. It makes you giggle and Pero growls at you as he pushes himself up a little. 

“You tease me, mujer,” he smirks, rolling his hips, “but I can tease you too, if you want to play that game.” 

“I’d love to play that game, Pero,” you reply, trying to pull him back down over you. But you’re interrupted by a knock on the door, the maid has returned with food. 

“We’re continuing this soon,” he smirks at you, pushing himself off the bed and going to the door while you burrow deeper into the quilts. 

You hear Pero thank the maid, and the smell of food wafting through the room makes you sit back up as he closes the door. Your belly rumbles, reminding you that it’s been many hours since you last ate, your dinner was in a whole other millennium even.

“Come, hermosa, eat something, I can hear your belly across the room,” Pero chuckles, and you join him at the small table by the fire. The maid has brought a pot of stew, bread and bowls. 

“I told them to give us bowls, not trenchers,” Pero says, “I didn’t think you’d be used to eating on them.” 

“Anything is fine, Pero, I’m really hungry,” you say, watching him ladle the stew for you. 

“Then eat, maybe not as good as that stew you served, but hunger usually makes the best seasoning.” 

You both devour the stew, scoping it up with chunks of the bread. You can’t help but stop and inspect it, your baker brain analyzing the loaf. It’s clearly sourdough, stone milled of course, a mix of rye and wheat you think. But the grain, you realize, is probably a variety that no longer exists in your time and the flavor is rich and nutty, tasting much more than any bread you’ve ever produced. You’re suddenly intrigued, and the thought hits you that maybe you’ll have time to visit a bakery here. 

Pero watches you with a small smile as you smell the bread and test the crumb between your finger tips. 

“I can see your mind working, hermosa,” he chuckles, sucking the last of the stew off his fingers and leaning back in the chair. 

“I was thinking about visiting a bakery, it’d be amazing to see. Do you think it’d be safe to go?” 

“Sure, I’ll keep you safe, of course. Just refrain from mentioning your big cold box or metal kitchen and you’ll be fine and not accused of witchcraft,” he winks and you widen your eyes. You hadn’t even considered the possibility of being considered a witch. 

“I’ll have to keep my mouth shut,” you say, “or I might accidentally say something very wrong.” 

“You’ll be fine, if we even get that far,” Pero says, shaking his head, “You’ve been here many hours now, I don’t like it, but I think you’ll probably be leaving soon.” 

As if the thought has reminded him, he gets up and takes your hand, leading you back to the bed. 

“Do you still have the ring?” you ask, suddenly realizing it’s not hanging around his neck as the article had mentioned. 

“I do, it’s in my pouch,” he replies, grabbing the leather bag that had been on his belt, and pulling it out, “Do you want it back? I didn’t mean to take it from you.” 

You close his fist around the ring as he holds it out to you, and then sit down on the bed. 

“No, you should keep it. I…” you being, looking up at Pero as he sinks down on the bed next to you, still holding the ring. He’s so alive. Of course he’s alive, warm and real and yet you know where he will be buried and the thought makes your throat close up and you stare at his hand. He senses your unease and tilts your head up, two fingers under your chin. 

“Something troubles you, tell me, hermosa,” he says, pushing a strand of your hair behind your ear, as you sigh. 

“When you disappeared, I wasn’t sure what had happened was real. I thought maybe I was losing my mind, or that you’d played a trick on me. But then I saw an article, news written on paper, about how historians in my time had unearthed a grave from your time, from this time. And the man in the grave was wearing the ring on a chain around his neck.” 

Pero nods and gets off the bed, reaching for the leather pouch again. 

“This chain?” he asks, holding up a thin gold chain, one of the links broken. 

“I think so, it matches the description,” you reply, running it between your fingers. 

“I had the ring on the chain, but it broke a week ago. I was planning on having it mended while in Provins.” 

You both sit in silence for a while, Pero holds the ring and you hold the chain, both lost in thought as the time between the two of you is so clearly illustrated by the two objects.  

“Your historians,” Pero asks finally, “Did they say how old the man in the grave was?” 

“No, only that he was from the 11th century.” 

“And did it say where the grave was?” 

“Sevilla,” you reply, looking up at Pero who nods. 

“Then I am never going to Sevilla,” he says, a small smile on his face as the corners of his lips curl up. 

“Keep it,” you say, passing the chain back to Pero, “ and keep the ring on you, maybe you have to go to Sevilla sometime, don’t avoid it, I shouldn’t have told you.” 

“It’s a strange feeling, knowing where I die,” he says, putting the chain and ring back in the pouch. “And knowing I’ll die so many hundreds of years before you.” He sits back down on the bed as you crawl under the covers, scooting over to give him room as he joins you. 

“It’s a very strange feeling, I’ll go back and you…” you trail off, feeling your eyes well up, and Pero pulls you in, his arms wrapping around you so that your head is on his chest, as a long shaky breath comes from you. 

“You go back and when you’re in your time, I’m dead,” he says in a low voice, “I thought the same when I came back, except I knew you weren’t even born yet, and I would die many hundreds of years before you.” 

“It’s not fair,” you mumble as he strokes your back and you hear his steady heartbeat under ear. 

“Do you wish I hadn’t come to your bakery?” he asks, his voice low, and you hear the doubt in it. Pushing yourself up so that you can look down at his dark eyes, you shake your head. 

“No, not at all, not even a little. I’ve missed you so much, and I’ll be heartbroken when I go back, but I wouldn’t have it undone. We haven’t even spent that much time together but…you’re special to me, Pero.”

“You’re special to me too,” he replies, resting his hand on your cheek as you lean your forehead against his, “I hope you get to stay with me a little while longer. Sleep now, hermosa, the storm is over and I’ll be here when you wake up, I promise.” 

“You can’t promise that,” you whisper as he moves you down to lie on his arm again, resting your cheek against his chest. 

“I promise it anyway,” he mumbles, his hand resumes its soothing motion up and down your back and you close your eyes, finally succumbing to the long sleepless night behind you. 

When you stir, hours later, you think you’re still in a dream. The roasting warm body behind you, a protective arm tight around your torso, legs tangled together, and his puffs of air against your ear, it all still feels too dreamlike. But your movements have woken him and he mumbles, half asleep, words you can’t understand, his arm pulling you tighter against his solid form. Slowly your mind catches up, the storm, yelling at the sky outside your house, falling in the mud and Pero’s sudden appearance. The ride, the inn and now, the bed, with Pero curled around you, it’s not a dream. 

Moving inside his arms, turning so that you face him, you giggle at his big yawn as he wakes up properly. 

“You’re still here,” you smile, wrapping an arm around his neck, and pulling him in for a kiss, morning breath be damned, it’s not like either of you will find a toothbrush here. 

“You’re still here,” he mumbles against your lips, “I thought I was dreaming.” 

“Me too,” you whisper, “but I’m still here and you’re still here.” 

“Siempre, mi amor,” he breathes, pulling you against his mouth, both arms around your back, his hand cupping the back of your head. It’s like he needs to reassure himself that you're still here, not a dream or a vision. And you feel the same, relishing the smell of the wood fire and the rushes on the floor, the unfamiliar noises from outside the room, all proving that you’re still in Pero’s time, with him. 

The kisses turn heated, arousal begins to thrum through your body as you feel Pero’s hard length against your hip, the kisses you share growing needy. He tries to hide his erection, pulling back from you, but you grab his hips and roll him over you, settingling his weight between your thighs. Pero groans into your mouth before he lifts himself up a little. 

“Cariño, don’t tempt me, I am only human.” 

“I want you, Pero,” you whisper with a smile, “you’re my husband, aren’t you? And we didn’t finish what we started before.” 

“You are sure?” he asks, but even as he does, you’re pulling him even closer, and one of his hands grips your thigh, soft flesh under his rough fingers. 

“Very sure,” you mumble against his mouth, as he groans and rolls his hips into your core. His hand slips further up your leg, finding only warm skin, gripping your waist and pushing up your shirt. It gets bunched up around you, so you let go of him and tug it over your head, revealing to Pero that you’ve got nothing underneath, and he groans again. 

“Beautiful,” he mutters, the soft scratch of his scruffy beard dragging over your neck as he begins a trail of wet kisses down your chest. His hand leaves your waist and gently closes over one of your breasts as his mouth closes over the nipple of the other. You can feel him grinding into the bed beneath you, and you reach down, twining your fingers in his short curls, wild from sleeping. The scratch of your fingers in his hair seems to make him melt, he flicks his tongue over your breast in lazy strokes, slowly caressing the other one as he rests his head on your chest. 

“Cariño,” he mumbles, his mouth pressed against your skin, “you’re so soft, tan suave...” he trails off, groaning as he buries his face against your breast, drawing a deep breath. 

“Pero, come here,” you whisper, tugging gently at his hair, making him lift his head and make his way back up to your mouth. His hand slips between your legs, caressing you softly, coating his fingers with your silky liquid, and each moan he pulls from you, makes him kiss you harder. 

You’re not sure what you’d expected from Pero in bed, a rough mercenary from the 11th century. To be honest, you might’ve thought that he’d need a bit of education in how to make you feel good, that norms in this time dictated that the man’s pleasure was the only thing that counted. But he proves you wrong, maybe he is the exception. Because he slides his fingers through your slick folds and circles your clit with his thumb, finding it without guidance and treats it gently, watching your face as he teases the sensitive nerves. Gently he pushes a finger deep inside and curls it back in the most delicious way. When you buck your hips into his hand, he chuckles, a deep low rumbling in his chest as he presses more kisses to your mouth. 

“Pero..” you moan, gasping as he slips in a second finger, “fuck…please…” 

“Please what?” he asks, the smirk in his voice evident even to your hazy mind, as he continues to move his fingers in and out of your heat. 

It makes you laugh, a breathless, half moaned laugh, at his cocky tone. He’s good, and he knows it. 

With a swift movement he pushes himself up and moves down your body, pushing your legs apart, making room for his broad shoulders. Before you have time to react, his hot mouth closes over your clit, his fingers still driving into you and curling back. He eats your pussy almost ferociously, burying his face and lapping long strokes before returning to your clit. 

Your body all but arches off the bed, and he grabs your hip with his free hand, chuckling into you. When your high hits, you throw your head back and gasp his name, throat raw as he works you through it, prolonging every shudder and tremble your body gives him. He releases his grip once your breathing returns to normal, and slowly works his way up your body, trailing sloppy kisses over your torso. Against your leg and then your hip, you can feel his steely hard cock, twitching as he hisses at the friction. 

“Pero,” you mumble, wrapping your legs around his hips and reaching down, closing your hand around him, “I want you inside me now.” 

He mumbles something incoherent under his breath as you coat the length with the liquid leaking from the tip, his breath catching, thrusting into your closed fist. The feel of him notching at your entrance causes you to tremble, and Pero takes your hand, pressing it down into the mattress next to your head as he begins to push in. 

“Does it feel good, esposa?” he asks, his voice low and strained, his jaw tight as he sets a languid pace, “Do I feel good inside you?”

You nod, hooking your legs up around his waist, urging him deeper, “Faster, Pero, faster, please, I can’t…” 

The snap of his hips forces the breath out of your lungs and it makes you laugh, a breathless giggle that turns into a moan as he does it again, his own face splitting into a wide grin. 

“So good,” he groans, half a chuckle in his voice too, “you feel so good, just as I thought, fuck…” he buries his head against your neck as he drives his hips into you, sliding in and out at a fast pace, breathing hard against your skin. “Thought about this so many nights, hermosa. Having you…having you back, with me, making…” He hisses as you squeeze down around him, you can feel the short, wiry hairs rub against your clit when he angles his hips and hits a new spot deep inside. He stutters, groaning into your neck, increasing his pace as you gasp his name. 

“Again, he growls, “come for me again, I need to feel it.”

And it hits you, arching your body up against his heavy weight as he drives himself deep inside, his body pressing you down as you wrap your legs tight around his waist. 

“L-let go…” he pants, wrenching himself away from you, pulling out fast and you feel his hot cum coat your belly as he gasps and groans above you. 

“Coño…” he hisses, tugging his cock, the last drops coating his hand, and he slumps forward, holding himself up on one hand over you, “Sorry, I couldn’t hold back any longer,” he mumbles, catching his breath, his eyes closing with a deep sigh. You pull him down over you, not caring about the mess on your skin, just needing his mouth on yours, feel his weight on top of you again. 

“It all feels so good,” you whisper into his ear, cupping the back of his head and kissing him as he hums, his hands slipping over your skin, caressing every part he can reach. 

He mumbles against your lips, his hand coming up to cup your cheek, giving you a gentle kiss, soft words in Spanish tumbling from him as he pulls back a little and looks down at you. 

“I will fight God himself, if he tries to take you away from me again,” he whispers, “I am not leaving your side.” His eyebrows are pulled together, his eyes serious, as if he’s challenging you to point out the flaws in his promise, but you just nod and let your fingers trail across his scowling face until it softens again and he lets you pull him down to your side. 

Later, when he’s cleaned you both up and wrapped himself around you underneath the covers, Pero tells you about his life, his travels and how he doesn’t have a home, not a real one. He’s always been working for one lord or another and after he returned from China he drifted. 

“But the past year, I stayed in this area, just in case I could go back, or you’d come to me,” he says, still holding you close as the late afternoon slips into evening, “Now, I’ll go wherever you want to go, I’ll protect you, esposa.” He smiles at the last word, softness in his face. 

“Can we stay here?” you ask, “At least for now?” Somehow, you believe that the storms decide when you’ll leave, and for now, the sky outside is clear. 

“In Provins? Yes, it’s a good town. And Guiscard will always be happy to have me near to protect his inn,” Pero nods and smiles as you absentmindedly let your fingers trail through the dark curls below his belly button, making him groan in a low rumble. You smirk at him, gently cupping his soft cock, still sticky from your combined release, and he growls, grabbing you and rolling so that you’re on top, your hands in his strong grip.

“You will drain me, mujer,” he scowls, no menace to his tone, and you chase his mouth with yours, giggling when he nips on your bottom lip.  

“I know a woman in town, Madam Callier, she’s an old friend of Guiscard,” he continues, once you’ve both had your fill of kisses, “She lost her husband last year, he was a merchant and owned a house and she’s been renting out the rooms. I could ask if we could live there, she asked me the last time I was in Provins. She could use a good soldier to keep the house safe.” 

“And you’re a good soldier,” you say, pressing a kiss to a scar on his chest. 

“Bad soldiers don’t get old,” he says, shaking his head, “but I don’t want to put you in danger, or risk leaving you alone here. So a quiet job, being a lady’s guard dog, will suit me well now.” 

“Maybe it’s foolish to say,” you begin, taking his hand and lacing your fingers through his, “but…I think..I think I don’t want to go back. I’d rather stay here with you now.” 

“Then we will be foolish together,” Pero replies, tightening his grip on your hand, “because I do not want you to go back either. Selfishly, I want you to stay with me.” He presses his soft lips to yours again, his kiss firm, insistent, and you repay him in kind, sinking all your feelings into the kiss, silently praying that nothing will take you away from him now. 

Pero leaves a little while later and comes back with clothes for you. You spend some time giggling while he tries to show you how to put them on. 

“I’m no expert in women’s clothing, cariño,” he huffs, “most women I…” he says and then falls silent, fiddling with the knots on the boots he’d traded for, an unusually pink tinge decorating his cheeks. 

“Most women what?” you ask him with a smile, you’re pretty sure where he was going with that sentence, and he looks up at you with a small scowl.

“You can guess,” he mutters, “you’re from an age where there seems to be no shame.” 

“Well, we still have whores and there is still shame surrounding visiting them,” you say, stepping closer to him so that you can press a kiss to his pink cheek. “I know soldiers will visit them frequently, even in our time. Just don’t visit one while I’m here.” 

He gives you such an offended look that it makes you laugh and he grabs you, growling into your neck as he marks you with a small nip. 

“Never, I would never do that to you,” he mumbles, his mouth still pressed against your skin. 

The next day you find yourself walking through the 11th century streets of Provins, next to Pero and his horse Guerrero. The lady with the rooms to rent lives only a few houses down from Guiscard’s inn but her house is much grander. At least it looks grand to you, with what little you know of 11th century architecture. Pero had said her husband was a wealthy merchant, the lady continuing his business after his death, and she was clearly was managing it well. You stood on the street and looked up at the place that would now be your home, at least until the next storm came through. A home in a new time, but with a man you already couldn’t see a life without.  

And as days passed into weeks, you settled into your strange new life in the new house, with Pero by your side. The cold spring you arrived in slipped into warm summer and still, you’re here. In Pero’s time, with him as your protector and guide. He uses the small fortune he brought back from China to make your life as comfortable as he knows how, and stays as close as he can, never letting you stray too far from his sight. 

The thought of suddenly being tossed back into your own time never really leaves. And as time passes that thought turns into cold fear. It scares you so deeply, to suddenly be without Pero, it makes panic simmer in your chest, the very thought of suddenly being without him. And every summer storm scares you, especially when they come at night, and you can’t even sleep, barely blink. Pero doesn’t say as much, but holds you nearly too tight while the thunder rumbles outside, never letting you go as flashes light up the room, his own fear of losing you translating into the almost suffocating way his hands grab your body on those nights. But then the storms pass and you wake up in his arms the next day. And the next, and the next, and the next. 

A year passes and you think less and less of suddenly being pulled back. You’re not sure which day you arrived, you know the date in your time but the calendar is different here and for a while you fear that maybe you’ll only be allowed to stay a year. But spring passes again, summer returns, and still you’re here, in your new little town, with a new life. 

Pero works, and you help where you can, learning more and more about medieval life. Baking, the profession that was your livelihood back home, returns to your life as you begin to explore the local bakery. Madam Callier does business with the baker, Pierre, and he seems intrigued by the multitude of questions you have about the bread he makes. Mostly he makes the rough, mixed grain bread almost everyone seems to eat. But he also makes soft wheat loaves for the few nobles in town that can afford it. Soon you’re sharing ideas with him, while you pick up Madam Callier’s bread, Pero hovering behind as he watches with an amused smile. When Pierre stumbles and sprains his ankle, it feels like fate. He asks you to help with the baking and from then on you’re back in your old profession. 

Pero is reluctant at first, doesn’t like leaving you at the bakery all day, but after a few days of almost scaring away the customers with his scowling appearance, he relents, and agrees that you’re as safe in the bakery as anywhere else in the small town. But he still insists on walking you to the bakery each morning, and comes back for you each evening. 

“I can’t let you walk alone, hermosa, even though it might be safe,” he says, when you question the need for him to walk back and forth to the bakery every day. It’s located on the outskirts of Provins, right up against the city wall, because of the fire hazard of the oven. “You’re my wife, and I promised to keep you safe in this time, let me do this.” 

So you tuck your arm into the crook of his arm, and walk with him through the town twice a day, getting strangely comfortable in this new life and time. Storms come and go and each time you fear them less, Pero still sleeps wrapped around you, but now it’s less because you might suddenly disappear, and more because that’s the way you both want to sleep. His warm, solid body pressed against your back, soft puffs of breaths against your neck when you wake. Your soft palm covering his scarred hand, holding onto him even in sleep. 

Life is harder in this time, there’s no doubt, and more fragile. But Provins is a prosperous town, seemingly spared from the harder conditions of this time, and so Pero and you remain. When Pierre passes away one particularly harsh winter, you take over the bakery and move there with Pero. With him as your ‘guard dog’, as he calls himself, no one dares question a woman running the bakery. The quality of the bread helps too and you thank your lucky star you understand sourdough baking and how the yeast bacteria work. Under your skilled hands, the cheap, rough bread for the peasants becomes even better than in Pierre’s time. And the expensive wheat bread for the nobles becomes so in demand that you can barely keep up, taking on a young woman of the town as your apprentice. 

Many years pass, the old life a memory that you sometimes talk to Pero about when you’re both tucked into bed. He asks if you’d want to go back to your time, and you don’t know what to answer. 

“Maybe?” you say, thinking about the few things you miss, indoor plumbing being the main one, “But not without you, never without you, Pero. I don’t want any life without you, I don’t have a life without you.” 

“You are my life now, mi esposa, mi amor,” he mumbles, pulling you in under his chin and you fall asleep with your head on his chest, the steady rhythm of his heart lulling you to sleep, like all other nights in your new life. 

And then, the morning that you don’t wake, decades after you came back to him, Pero makes up his mind and plans for one last journey. His body aches, his joints are stiff and nothing remains of the dark brown color in his hair, it turned gray many years ago. And above all, his heart aches, the loss of you so physical, the pain inside his chest, he’s surprised his heart still beats even when the very reason for it to exist has left his life. 

He packs his old saddle bags one last time, his back protesting as he swings himself into the saddle of his horse and turns the nag towards the coast. The journey takes a week, the winds are good and the sailing smooth. But he can feel his health waning, whether from the grief that grips his heart, or the loss of his will to stay in this life. 

He travels to where you told him his grave is, to Seville, and he only has one hope left in his life; that you will come back to him when he closes his eyes for the last time. 

A/N:

I hope you loved, and maybe cried a little, over this story. I didn't have any particular feelings about Pero when I wrote his first chapter for the bakery but he's grown on me so much. He is now one of my favourite Pedro boys and I've rewatched the film which also gave me a whole new view of him. He plays a very specific role in story, but there are clearly layers to him and lots to unpack. I think the way Pedro chooses to portrait him too, some of the choices he makes in how he delivers lines, add a lot of back story that's not spoken out loud. I will most likely return to Pero and dive further into his 11th century life.

By the way, I totally ignored any language barriers, both between 21st century and the 11th century as well as them being in France this time. Maybe there's a Tardis parked nearby, who knows? But Provins does exist and is a UNESCO world heritage site for it's well preserved medieval town centre. From the 9th century and onward it was a prosperous town with large markets and influential merchants. Seemed like a good place to have a quiet life for Pero and his new wife.

Not much baking in this story but I had to sneak in a reference to sourdough as it was the way people baked for literally millennia before commercial yeast became a thing. It fascinates me and I'm going to make a whole separate post about sourdough baking but if you want to try it I can really recommend this as a starting point (Claire Saffitz is a baking goddess!)

Everything tag list: @harriedandharassed @inept-the-magnificent @sheepdogchick3  @readingiskeepingmegoing @noisynightmarepoetry @survivingandenduring @vabeachazn @amyispxnk @oberynslady @vabeachazn @amyispxnk @thewiigers 

#pedro pascal character fanfiction #pero tovar #pero tovar fanfiction #pero tovar x reader #pedro pascal #Youtube

[milunalupin]

helloooo, 33centaurrii here! Decided to ask anonymously (though announcing myself beforehand defeats the entire point of being anonymous) because secondary blogs can't be used to send asks. I think that's rubbish and a hassle and it's borderline criminal that Tumblr hasn't found a way to optimize that in several years from its conception

I really liked your post-azkaban Sirius and was wondering if you could write something regarding him escaping Azkaban and reuniting with reader ...the catch is that he reunites with them in his animagus form — his fur is matted and growing in odd ways, he looks and somehow smells like he's contacted some kind of disease and he's panting like crazy as a consequence of his sedentary lifestyle in Azkaban. Reader doesn't know this! Heck, reader thinks he's someone else's emaciated stray dog :')

How angsty or how funny or fluffy this goes is totally free reign to you! I've been thinking about adult Sirius way too much for wayyyy too long that I just HAD to request it

— 🌿

ty for the request ily <3 i hope you like it !

— homecoming

post azkaban!sirius x reader ★ 1k words

With a wave of your wand, the sign on the door turned from 'open' to 'closed' and the potion shop was closed for the night. You did a quick walkthrough one more time to make sure you weren't forgetting anything, and stocked up on a few potions that you were running low on at home. Once more you flicked your wand about and the lights in the shop were off. You walked out the back door and locked up, buttoning up your coat as you started your walk home. The night was chilly but the skies were clear, allowing you to see your favorite star, the brightest in the sky.

The walk to your home wasn't terribly far, and you quite enjoyed the peaceful walks down the empty trail. Suddenly a high pitched whine stopped you in your tracks, your eyes going to a wiggling bush on the side of the road. You crouched down and got closer, just to find a bloody lump of dark matted fur, it's tongue lolling out with heavy pants.

"Oh Merlin, look at you! You poor thing, can I please help you?" you gasped, tears already forming as you looked at the weary dog. You held your hand out near it's snout to let it sniff you first, but the dog pushed its face into you hand, whining as it used all its strength to lick your arm.

"Where's your owner, sweetheart?" You frowned, only receiving another whine in response. You looked around for someone who might be looking for him, but the village had been practically empty the past few hours. The dog nudged your hand again, his dry tongue scraping against your fingertips.

"Hold on tight puppy, sorry but this may feel weird." You apologized, wrapping an arm around the animal as you whipped out your wand and quickly apparated home.

The second you arrived in your flat, you rushed around to collect your healing supplies, dropping them in front of the dog, whose eyes drooped tiredly. You were lucky you saw him when you did, his injuries were terrible and he looked like he was going to pass out any moment.

He had gashes and cut all over him, some rashes and boils the result of intentional poisoning. You muttered a quick Reparifors to revert any poison in his system, the dog letting out a large sigh and few coughs. You got up and ran to and from the kitchen to set a bowl of water next to him to drink, so you could get started on healing his other injuries while he rehydrated. You dabbed a cloth with some Murtlap Essence, gently pressing it to his larger cuts, mumbling apologies as he cried underneath you.

You managed to get the dog onto the couch on you were done with the initial healing and laid a blanket over him. His larger wounds were dressed and he looked a little better after a few bowls of water. You gave him a few scratches under his chin and picked up his bowl before walking into the kitchen to refill it. Walking back into the living room you stopped dead, the metal bowl falling from your hands and clattering to the ground, water spilling onto your rug.

On your couch sat a naked Sirius Black, the blanket thankfully laying over his lap. You stood frozen with your eyes wide, your heartbeat picking up as he sat there just staring back at you, anxiously biting at his chapped lips.

"What are you- I don't- How-" you sputtered, your breaths getting quicker as your eyes watered, unable to look away from the man in front of you. He was supposed to be in Azkaban, for Godric's sake, what was he doing here?

"Hey hey, slow down poppet, take a deep breath for me, will you?" Sirius was at your side in a second, one hand holding the blanket around his bruised hips while the other hovered over your shoulder, his tired eyes staring down into your own. "You're alright."

"I- Are you alright? How are you here, Sirius?" you sniffled, raising your hand towards his face, fingertips lightly brushing over his cheekbones as you tried but failed to hold back a sob. "Merlin you're real, you're actually here."

His arm came around you in an instant, his own body shaking as he pulled you close to him, pressing kisses into your hair. "Oh please don't cry, lovely girl."

Sirius held onto you until you became too tired to cry anymore, guilty and ashamed of the man - or rather, dog - he came back to you as. It wasn't easy escaping, no it was complete and utter hell. But the first place he thought of to go was to you, how could it not be. You had been the one to dry his tears the summer after his little brother had surrendered to the pressure of his parents and received the Dark Mark, the one who held him late at night in the astronomy tower when the letters with the Black family seal were too much to handle on his own. Of course, you were just being a good friend, maybe too good. Sirius could've never confessed his true feelings back then, he didn't know if he was stable enough to hold a relationship, and he wasn't going to risk losing you in trying, so he kept quiet. But twelve years later, your hands were still just as kind and gentle holding him, his tears dripping from the tip of his nose onto your head that held the most beautiful and purest mind he knew.

"Do you want to talk about it?" You whispered, teary eyes looking up at him.

He sighed softly and shook his head. "Tomorrow love, I think we're both a little tired after tonight."

You nodded and led him to your bedroom, where you lent him some clothes to sleep in and pulled the bed covers back, sliding in and patting the space next to you. He slipped in beside you and let out a blissful sigh, closing his eyes for a moment to relish in the silkiness of your sheets and the plushness of your pillow. The two of you laid facing each other, studying the other's appearance. You reached for his hand and squeezed lightly, a sleepy smile on your face.

"Welcome home, Sirius."

#marauders #marauders era #marauders x reader #sirius black #sirius black x reader #sirius x reader #sirius orion black #post azkaban sirius

[zablife]

This look he has just reeks of touch my wife one more time and I'll raise hell. Or reader is shy (and married to Tommy) and is trying not to be rude + moving to stop the touches on her arm. Tommy sees if they keep doing it before he intervenes

Tommy watching you do just anything at home

John pretending to read but watching you tell a someone off. Also him waiting to see if the guy does something

Sorry 😅idk what to do with myself

Tysm for the ask, darl! I love all of these amazing ideas! Protective Tommy makes me feral and that look in the 2nd GIF is pure sunshine. However, I've written loads of Tommy requests recently so I'll show John some love.

Place Your Bets

"You there!" a mean looking drunk shouted over the din of the betting shop. You didn't bother looking up from your desk as you concentrated on taking a customer's bet over the telephone.

Undeterred, the man slowly clomped toward you, swaying as he walked. He approached wreaking of whisky and body odor and you hung up as quickly as possible to shoo him away. Rising from the desk you motioned to the back of the queue, closer to the doors where the stench would be carried away with the breeze. "You'll have to wait your turn," you informed him tersely.

"I know you," he said with a sneer, showing off a row of rotten, yellow teeth. "You was the lass who took my bet last week."

You turned away, unsure how the poor sod had placed his bet and not caring in the slightest.

"I'm talking to you!" he shouted and you turned with fire dancing in your eyes as he dared to continue. "You gave me that rubbish tip about Monaghan Boy!" he said, wiping his nose on the back of his sleeve.

"Gonna let your missus handle that one?" a secretary asked as she passed John's desk.

John lowered his paper as he shrugged, "Why not? She can take care of herself better than half the men here," he said, voice swelling with pride. He grinned to himself as he thought of all the times you'd bested him in an argument and counted himself lucky someone else was on the receiving end of your temper for once.

"He must have been off his tits! Came in dead last," the man grumbled to you.

"You'd know something about that, eh?" you countered, snickering as you pushed past him to gather a few papers.

"What did you say to me?," the man asked, puffing out his chest.

"Oh, God, this is going to be good," John said with a slight giggle. He could tell by your folded arms and the way your foot began to tap rapidly against the floorboards you were properly angry now.

You whipped around, annunciating your words as if he were a complete idiot, because he was. "I said you're a fucking drunk who made a shit bet so don't come in here and throw a wobbler like a bloody child!"

Sitting back to watch the drama unfold from behind his paper, John snickered as he listened to you give the man a tongue lashing. The man retaliated calling you a cunt.

John sucked in a breath. "Ooh, I wouldn't call her that, mate!" John commented to no one in particular, shaking his head. He kicked his feet off the desk and leaned forward slightly to see how you would return the insult.

You wagged a finger in the man's face, half his size, but berating him as though you were equally matched. "Call me that once more and I'll cut ya, ya filthy animal! Don't fuck with me!"

That's when John saw the man reach out to grab you by the arm and he was on his feet in seconds, pounding the floorboards menacingly. He pinned the man to the wall, narrowing his eyes at the bastard who dared lay a hand on you, asking, "What the fuck do you think you're doing?" The man could only gurgle in response as John held him by the throat.

You brushed your sleeve, noting the dirt he'd left behind with a frown before collecting yourself and lightly placing a hand on John's shoulder. He turned to look at you, eyes softening, but grip remaining firm.

"Can I borrow your blade, darling? Left mine in me other skirt," you said, voice as thick and sweet as honey.

"Of course, love," he said, handing it over with a quick kiss.

"Wait, wh-what's sh-she going to do with that?" the man stuttered, too afraid to move.

"Cut your balls off, I reckon," John replied. Breaking out into a shit eating grin, he reached up to smack the man on the cheek a couple of times. Then he pulled back to take in the look of horror as he snorted, "Nah, just take your eyes. She's a blinder after all and she did warn ya not to fuck with her."

#zablife ask box #Peaky Blinders fanfic #Peaky Blinders imagine #John Shelby #John Shelby fanfic #John Shelby imagine #John Shelby x you #John Shelby x y/n #John Shelby x reader

[thisisourlovestory]

Safe and Sound

Finnick Odair x reader soulmate AU

Summary: you are a victor from district 4. The Quarter Quell has just been announced. How will you cope with the turn of events coming your way.

Word count- 2.8k

Chapter 1

I woke up early on the day of the reaping. Blinking awake slowly, head spinning from the effects of what even Haymitch from district 12 would class as too much alcohol, not that I’d really ever spoken to him, just from observation. I shuffled into my fluffy slippers and stumbled over to the table in the middle of my kitchen. Sitting down heavily, I groaned as lightning shot through my head and I scrubbed a hand across my face, reaching out to grab a glass of water and downing it in one gulp. Once my head stopped spinning I made myself a cup of coffee, mixing in milk and spooning in an inordinate amount of sugar, I made my way outside and sat on a chair, sipping the too sweet mixture from time to time, hands curled around the mug as I gazed out at the sunrise. Pinks and purples blended together, swirling with orange hues as it got lighter with every passing second. The sun rose above the horizon, bathing me in golden light as I breathed in the fresh air, letting go of all my fears and doubts for a moment to just take in the beauty of the world around me.

The trees swaying gently in the breeze, leaves rustling, songbirds chirping. One landed on my shoulder, twittering a joyful tune in my ear. I tapped my foot to the rhythm, singing quietly, whispering lyrics swept away by the wind. A ringing of the bell snapped me out of it, a harsh reminder of reality, of the games. I gave a grim smile and walked back inside, swigging back the last drops of my drink. Once back in the house I filled up the bathtub with steaming hot water, drizzling some scented oil in it and immediately stepping in. The water burned my skin, turning it red and raw, irritating the cuts on my feet as they stung and I hissed in a vague degree of pain. I grabbed a cloth and scrubbed my body viciously, stripping it of any dead skin and dirt that had collected over the past few days as I had moped around the house just waiting. My hands grabbed a bottle and I poured the contents onto my hair, scraping my nails across my scalp, rinsing it, then tipping a bottle of conditioner into it, massaging the smooth pink substance into my hair, making it smell like honeysuckle, sweet and overpowering.

I drained the bathtub and stepped out, wrapping myself in a fluffy towel. I picked through my clothes, discarding some to one side and placing others over the mirror in my room. I ended up with three options and I frowned as I assessed them. I didn't want something that would make me seem weak, but I still needed to portray the innocence of a child that the Capitol loved me for. Eventually, I settled for a light green dress that fell just above my knees, I studied myself closely, the dress clung to my upper half but flared out at the waist, the loose sleeves covering the mark on my wrist. I smiled at my reflection in the mirror, it was perfect; for a second I looked like a girl. A normal girl who hadn't been affected by witnessing death, who got to live a happy ordinary life with her family. And for just that one second I wished selfishly with all my heart that I could be with the person the universe chose for me, because he loved me. I snapped out of my daze and stared into the mirror, light reflecting off the surface and bouncing around my room. I turned away and face planted on my bed, the mattress muffling my scream of anger. My fingers gripped the sheets tightly, refusing to let go for a second as my breathing quickened and tears pricked my eyes. Now is not the time to cry, I berated myself silently, my nose still buried in the bed. Now was the time to stand up and show that I was not afraid, that they could throw anything at me and I would come back stronger. I sniffled slightly, sitting back up and dangling my legs off the bed as I wiped away a few stray tears. I gazed at my reflection again. So different from the confident girl I had been before, now a pathetic weakling, if that's what a few minutes could do to me then I hated to see what damage hours or days could inflict on me.

I heard people talking outside and moved silently to the window.

“Don't worry, it’ll all be fine.” I knew that voice.

“But what if I get reaped,” I knew that one as well, “I can't go back in there.” I peaked out to see Finnick and Annie, engrossed in conversation.

“I promise I won't let anything happen to you,” Finnick continued, gripping her arms and staring at her, “I promise.”

I smiled sadly at the sight, it hurt a little, it always did but I was happy for them. I truly was. I couldn't let my feelings get in the way of their romance, it was quite clear to me that they belonged together, the universe makes mistakes and it seemed like he and I were one of them. They walked back into his house and I stepped back into my own room, closing the window behind myself and trapping the cold air inside. Shivering, I picked out a white knitted cardigan and pulled it on, the soft fabric providing a thin layer of warmth from the chill. The clock on my wall struck 11, I breathed out deeply and walked downstairs, slipping on a pair of beige sandals, tying the brown leather just around my ankle in a bow. Taking a last look around my house I trailed a hand along some of the pictures lining the walls, photos of my mum and I smiling and laughing together from when I was little. It seemed so long ago now, I was no longer a child and my mum was no longer alive. My hand finished on the last picture, the most recent, one I had snapped a couple of years ago of Finnick and I. It was one of the last times I had spoken to him, before Annie. It had been after a particularly nasty nightmare and he had cooked breakfast, pancakes with syrup. He smiled as I got the sticky substance on my cheek and wiped it away with his thumb. I had laughed and held the camera up, both of us smiling widely as my finger pressed down to take the shot.

It was a reminder of happier times, as happy as they could be at least. I made to step out the door but I remembered something at the last second. My shoes. My ballet shoes. If I was going back then I wanted them as my token. Granted they weren't the pair I had the first time, those had long since worn out, but that didn't change the way every new pair of shoes made me feel. What they made me remember.

I had been 4 when I first decided I wanted to dance. I had seen the Mayor's daughter wearing a pair of ballet shoes and dancing in the garden with them on. I immediately fell in love, and ran home to my mother, so excited I talked about them for hours. Every day from then on I would go and watch the girl dance, I would copy her movements until I could do each and every one with the drop of a hat. Then one day a few years later they caught me watching. They had beat me black and blue and sent me running home crying, knees scraped and clothes torn. My mother had comforted me, singing a lullaby as she rocked me to sleep. The next day I woke up to a pile of books on the table and a box topped with a ribbon. My eyebrows furrowed in confusion but my mother smiled gently and nudged me forwards.

“Open it,” she said, “I think you’ll like it.” My eyes widened as I opened the books, there were pages upon pages of text, instructions, they were tattered and dirty but they taught me everything I knew about ballet. How to do the steps, how to strengthen my body and become more flexible, how to fully immerse myself in the dance and feel the music. Then I turned my attention to the package. I ripped the ribbon off and was greeted with a pair of ballet shoes. Slightly worn and ripped but in my eyes they were perfect. I shrieked in excitement and threw my arms around my mother as she caught me laughing.

“Calm down little bird,” she said, ”it's an early birthday present. And besides,” she continued a mischievous glint in her eyes, “I want free tickets to all your shows.”

I nodded my head, pulling away to look at her.

“Do you think I can actually do it?” I asked innocently. Her gaze became serious.

“You have nothing to prove to them, little bird, you hear me. But they will always look down on you, so you can either let them or you can prove that you are more than what they see.” She paused for a second, “You can do it my little bird, and you will be incredible.” I burrowed into her and she wrapped a soft blanket around us, cradling me like I was a baby again. She passed me the packaging and I lifted the shoes out, holding them carefully, as if the slightest move could break them. My thin fingers traced along the fabric, smoothing the heel over and tapping on the box, grinning in delight at the hollow sound it made.

“Go on,” my mother encouraged, “try them.”

I scrambled to the floor and pulled the shoes on, they were a bit loose but I simply tied the ribbons as tightly as possible and tucked the knot in. I stared down at them as I stood there, they were so beautiful and delicate. I wobbled onto the tips of them, my feet pointed, balancing on the very ends of my toes. My mother clapped as I walked around the small living room in them, being ever so careful to not slip over and ruin them. When I finally took them off, my feet had little blisters on them, I didn't care. I would endure anything to prove myself, to show that I wasn't just another district girl. I went to bed the happiest I'd ever been that night. My mother stroking my hair as I drifted into the dreamworld, filled with thoughts of dancing and performing where everything was perfect.

In the present I shook myself out of my reminiscing and grabbed a pair of the shoes, ribbons dangling loose, tucking them into a small bag and slinging it over my shoulder, I slammed the front door behind myself and strode out of victor's village, down the gravel track to the town. The sharp stones cut my bare feet in pinpricks and I winced, regretting my choice of footwear.

A light breeze brushed against my face and I pulled two pearl hair grips out of my bag, twisting the front strands of my hair and pinning them up together. As I walked, I was surrounded by nature, trees filled with green leaves and song birds, beautiful flowers the colours of jewels, fluffy clouds overhead. I breathed in the fresh air just before I reached town, something took hold in me and I twirled, laughing as the skirt of the dress flew out in a circle, it swished around me as I revelled in a moment of happiness, dancing around like a child, spinning wildly, leaping in the air with my arms spread wide for a final minute of joy. My cheeks flushed as I walked past the peacekeepers who had witnessed my outburst, they stood still, guarding the entrance to town. Making sure no one could escape. I made my way to the justice building, ignoring the looks people threw my way. Disgust, worry, pity a few of them among thousands. I strode to the desk where I had to register.

“Name.” The peacekeeper asked.

“Y/N Y/L/N.” I answered, holding out my arm for them to take my blood.

They gestured to the stage and I made my way up, taking in the thousands of faces looking up at me. Children probably grateful they wouldn't have to worry this year, parents glad they wouldn't have to lose another child yet. I look to the side at Annie and Mags, both deep in conversation as if they hadn't even noticed my arrival. Mags hugged her reassuringly and my heart cracked a little, wishing I had someone to comfort me like that. I turned back to stare at the wooden floor of the stage remembering the last time I stood here seven years ago after my name had been called.

I had been shaking like a leaf, terrified as I stuttered how old I was. The looks of pity sent my way by everyone and the horrified look on my mothers face as I had walked up escorted by peacekeepers. Lysander read off the boy's name but I couldn't hear anything, my heart pounding in my ears. I had kept my head down as I was led to a room for my last goodbyes. My mother rushed in and held me close as I cried and she wiped my tears then held my face in her hands and told me.

“You fight little bird. You hide and then you fight, you understand. You come home to me, I'll be waiting.” Then she pushed my pointe shoes into my arms and kissed me on the forehead before she was led out, giving me one last smile as I gripped the shoes. Then I was taken to the train and we were on our way to the Capitol

I smiled prettily for the Capitol, shyly answering any of their questions. ‘Yes I was a bit nervous’, ‘I loved to dance’, ‘Of course I could give them a tiny demonstration’, ‘I would try to win, for my mother but I had never known my father’. That got their attention, the poor little girl from district 4, no father, only a mother who she loved dearly, more than her own life. So when I got into the arena I did what mother told me, I hid and I fought and I got out but when I came home she wasn't waiting for me. She was gone. They told me it was an illness, one that was untreatable. So she was gone and I was left alone. I often thought I would have been better off dead. At least then I'd be with her.

All went silent and I was pushed out of my thoughts as our escort walked onto the stage, dressed outlandishly as always in the flashiest colours and cuts of fabric.

“Welcome all to the Quarter Quell,” he starts, “Happy Hunger Games and may the odds be ever in your favour.” The usual video starts to play and I roll my eyes as I hear the words ‘War, terrible war’. It's the same every year, a montage and voiceover which has no purpose anymore. We know what happened, we know what's happening now and we really don't need to be reminded of it. After what seems like an age the clip ends and Lysander claps excitedly, he’s the only one and the noise rings in my ears.

“I get goosebumps every time,” he gushes cheerfully,”It just gets me every time. And now for the moment you've all been waiting for, it is time to choose our tributes for this very special year. First the boys,” He walks over to the huge bowl containing one small piece of paper and dramatically dips his hand in. He picks up the paper and unfolds it painfully slowly. “Finnick Odair.” He announces and I have to fight back a cry as he steps forwards, waving and smiling at the cameras, my fingers itching at my wrist as the mark burns from the close proximity to him. Lysander grins almost maniacally as he congratulates him on this honour. Patting him on the back and exclaiming how exciting this will be

“And now time for the ladies.” He says and walks over to the other bowl with three pieces of paper in. I stand nervously, twisting my hands in the sleeves of my jumper as he reaches in and waves his hand around for a minute before plucking a piece out. He shakes it in front of him and unfolds it as slowly as the first one. I breathe shakily, in out, in out. He reads the name off the slip of paper.

“Annie Cresta!”

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#finnick odair x you #finnick odair x reader #finnick x you #finnick x reader #angst #thg x reader #the hunger games #catching fire #implied finnick x annie

[shimonerin]

Secret Santa w/ the Jujutsu High Students

Content: Giving Itadori, Megumi, and Nobara their favorite gifts Tags: fluff Words: 1.7k

a/n: literally my first time writing again after a year or two and also my first time actually putting myself out there and posting lol I apologize if it's messy or lengthy TvT

Itadori Yuji

I feel like Yuuji would ask for a DVD/cassette collection of his favorite movies and TV shows since he really is a “TV child” and grew up watching those. And also because DVDs/cassettes are not really a thing nowadays, it kind of gives him nostalgia to be watching the same movies he used to when he was younger. 

Another thing I think he’d like is a snack basket. Just a basket filled to the brim with sweets and snacks and sodas. Just something he can eat and share with someone while he’s watching his shows.

Yuuji doesn’t ask for much and he’d be completely fine if you only managed to buy one of them or even a completely different gift. I mean, he’s basically going out every weekend in the cinemas and he’s more than capable of buying a few snacks for himself at the store. Everything else is just a bonus.

What he didn’t expect was for you to go out of your way to buy him everything on his wishlist and even gave him a meal voucher to one of the popular ramen restaurants in Japan. You know he likes rice bowls a lot and what’s better than giving him a voucher that’s worth at least three different rice bowls.

“No way! You bought all of this for me?” He exclaimed, his eyes gleaming with stars as he looked over the rack full of DVDs, a large snack basket, and a meal voucher. He could feel the tears well up in his eyes, seeing you make an effort into giving him something special. 

You smiled fondly at him, chuckling softly at his lightly pouting face “I might as well, right?” You tell him so casually, as if you didn’t just crawl your way into this man’s heart with your gifts.

Without a second thought, he threw himself at you, wrapping you in a tight, almost suffocating embrace before burying his face at the crook of your neck “You’re so awesome, you know that? I was secretly hoping you were my secret santa.” He murmured softly, which you find extremely endearing. Nobara and Gojo snickered behind you and you knew you’d find yourself in the middle of another teasing session over the next few days.

As soon as Yuuji let go of you, he grabbed both of your hands, holding it in front of your chest “We should definitely stop by that ramen restaurant later! You’ve only been there once, right?” He suggested as he shook your hands excitedly like a child.

As much as he wanted to hang out with his friends this Christmas, he didn’t want to miss out on some one-on-one time with you. He’s basically begging the universe for it so he wouldn’t trade it for the world or for an extra day of training. That can wait.

Megumi Fushiguro

I feel like Megumi isn’t even interested in joining Secret Santa. Poor boy was just forced by Gojo and Itadori lol. As he’s not interested in receiving any material gifts anyways, at most he’d probably just ask for a book.

He didn’t even give you any specific book he’d want you to buy so you had to ask Gojo “Oh, he’s not really into fantasy books, if that’s what you’re thinking,” He tells you as he leaned back onto the sofa “He’s leaning more towards nonfiction novels. Like the classics, you know?”

Heading straight towards the bookstore after training hours, you decided to go for “In Praise of Shadows” by Junichiro Tanizaki, simply because the title reminded you of his cursed technique. Though, the synopsis for the book isn’t too far off from his tastes.

Giving him only the book felt empty so you decided to look for mini figurines for his shikigamis at a nearby pottery shop. You wanted to give him something to symbolize his immense care for these animals, which was one of the things you loved the most about him. In the end, you had bought a total of 10 mini clay figurines. You placed it alongside the book inside a neat box with Japanese wrapping paper and a small bunny origami that resembles one of his shikigami on top to finish it off.

When it was time to give your gift to Megumi, he was quite impressed with the way it was wrapped but kept his reactions to a minimum “Ah, thanks.” He’d say, with a hand behind his neck

Only when he opens his present will you see the visible change in his expression. He pulls out the book and the mini figurines of the Divine Dogs, his gaze darting all over it in subtle fascination.

You purse your lips, tilting your head slightly “Do you like it?” You asked him, albeit a little nervously.

“Hey! Say something, won't you?” Nobara shouted, crossing her arms at the boy “Don't just sit there and stare!”

Megumi lifted his head off your bundle of gifts as he gazed back at your smiling face, a sudden feeling of happiness swelling in his chest but he kept it in.

“It’s…nice. I like it.” He spoke quietly, as if he’s only talking to you, blocking out all of the other sounds around him “You shouldn't have bought so much.”

He wanted to say more than that but his real feelings can't be summed up in a few words and he didn't want to come off so cheesy in front of his friends.

You laughed in response, waving off his words “No, no, I want to! You seem so indifferent with Christmas and I just wanted to give you something to smile about!” You lightly teased him, knowing you would have loved him either way.

At this point, Itadori and Nobara were forcing Megumi to smile for you as a joke, poking and prodding at his cheeks like they always do.

In the middle of the teasing session, you could definitely make out a small genuine smile from his otherwise stoic face, one that's easy to miss if you’re not looking closely enough. 

Later that evening, when you finally got home, you received an unexpected call from Gojo, saying “Hey, just called to tell you Megumi loved what you gave him.” He tells you “In fact, he’s arranging those figurines you bought him at his bedside table.”

Without a second thought, you could hear Gojo put his phone closer to Megumi’s room, as the faint sound of soft clashes of wood on wood fills your ears.

Gojo puts himself back on the call “Oh, and the book that you gave him? Yeah, he started reading it on the way home. Looks like you really got him this time.”

You couldn't help the smile slowly spreading across your face like a child “Really?” You say, trying not to let your voice give out what you're feeling “That’s…that’s great! Tell him to cherish it for me, Gojo-sensei!”

Unbeknownst to you, you were on speaker the whole time.

Kugisaki Nobara

Oh it was anxiety-inducing to think of what to give to Nobara. She’s a girl who knows her worth and knows exactly what she deserves. And while that was an aspect of her personality that you love and admire a lot, there’s only so much that you can do with your allowance.

Her wish list states that she wanted stylish clothing, accessories, or anything that looks good on her, given how much she loves shopping. Of course, she didn’t ask for Balenciaga or Onitsuka Tiger. She’s not that delusional.

But you can’t help as if every gift you’d think of wouldn’t be good enough for her. You only wanted to give her the best things because that’s when you’ll see her smile the brightest. And you’d probably do anything to see it on her all the time.

Over the weekend, you made a plan to go to Shibuya, going straight to the popular fashion mall, Shibuya 109. Entering one of the more affordable clothing chains in the establishment, you purchased a cute, oversized graphic tee for her. You also decided to buy her a box set of accessories like hairpins, bracelets, chains, and scrunchies.

Buying one last thing for her with the money that you have, you go to a local chocolatier and order a box of macaroons. Nobara has always been a fan of sweets, after all.

On Christmas Day, when it was your turn to give your gifts, you glanced towards Nobara who was sitting beside you before handing her a beautifully wrapped gift with a ribbon on top.

“Merry Christmas, Nobara. You’re gonna love this.” You’d sweetly say as she widened her eyes, delicately loosening the ribbon string.

As soon as her eyes landed on the top you bought for her, chic accessories, and the box of macaroons, she couldn't simply contain her excitement.

Her eyes were basically stars as she immediately tried on the shirt, twisting and turning to see how it looked “(Y/N), this is gorgeous!” She exclaimed 

Opening the box of accessories next, she quickly tried on the hairclips and wore the bracelets, hurriedly trying them on all at once “Where did you buy all this? It honestly looks so good.” She asked you, a wide smile plastered on her face

You scratched the back of your head and grinned “I…I honestly went to Shibuya this Saturday. I thought I might find you something different from the shops there.”

She immediately dropped everything she was holding and perked up in interest “And you didn't bring me with you? That would have been the best Christmas gift you could give me!” She says, her warm hands immediately wrapping around yours “Then maybe you shouldn't have spent all your money on me. I heard some stores there are so expensive.”

Your grip on her hand tightened into a gentle squeeze “You don't need to worry. I got my money's worth so it’s okay, really.” You reassured her.

You could see the tears forming on her eyes, only for her to wipe it off as she pouted “Well, at least let me share my macarons with you!” She tells you before picking one from the box and feeding you a strawberry cream-filled flavor macaron.

Nobara made a promise to be the one to take you to Shibuya next time and even go as far as to spoil you, even when you told her not to. 

How could she not? She’s so picky with everything but you’re the only one who seems to pinpoint her tastes so well. She’s never met anyone who could match her as good as you do so she’ll make sure to return the favor.

Happy holidays x

#jjk #jujutsu kaisen #itadori yuuji #yuji itadori #jjk itadori #itadori x reader #megumi fushiguro #jjk megumi #megumi x reader #nobara kugisaki #jjk kugisaki #jjk nobara #nobara x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen fluff #jjk imagines #Spotify