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cryptidghostgirl · 3 months

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hii i read your fic with the humanalastor! x reader where they become like partners in crime (i loved it sm)

and got an idea based off of it

what if Alastor dies first and a few years later Alastor and the reader reunite after she goes to the hotel? thought it would be kinda cute :)

A/N ngl I was thinking of doing something like this so I am very happy it is desired by the people as well. Also, we're gonna pretend that the timeline I created wouldn't make her like over a hundred years old when she died, okay? Okay.

Cover Up Pt. 2 (Alastor x Reader)

Pairing: Alastor x Reader

Warnings: Mentions of murder and blood, nothing graphic. Alastor being a depressed little bitch. Also a lot of dead bird metaphors for lost hope. Please let me know if I forgot anything.

Word Count: 1,971

Part One: Cover Up (Human!Alastor x Human!Reader)

Master Lists:

Master Lists

Hazbin Hotel Master List

When Alastor had died, Y/n had shattered. Their years of holding one another's bloodstained hands had finally drawn to a close. They had a good run, nearly a decade before anyone caught on. His death also came with the added downside of throwing suspicion on Y/n. To say the event changed her life would be an understatement.

When Alastor had first woken up in Hell, he had mourned his loss as if she was the one who had died and not him. The allowance of such a foolish thing was short lived. He quickly realized there was no way Y/n wouldn't end up in Hell as well eventually, with her track record. He refocused his pain, his anguish into making sure he had the perfect world to serve up to her on a platter as soon as she arrived.

As the years ticked on, the little bird fluttering away in his ribcage became more and more despondent. He tried to distract himself by continuing his work, continuing his plans for her. Always for her. It worked to a certain extent but, soon it had been sixty years and she still hadn't made her arrival. It didn't matter how many overlords he killed, how many worthless souls he tortured. There was nothing that could take his mind off that.

Alastor wondered what sort of life Y/n had made for herself after his death. He wondered if she had found love again, held out hope that she hadn't. It was a selfish wish, he knew it. Alastor had always been selfish. It wasn't that he wished for her to be unhappy, just that he knew she was the only person, living or dead, out there for him. There was no hope for Alastor that wasn't Y/n and he wanted her to feel the same way about him. He didn't want to lose, to have been an idiot, to have been the one that loved more. At the same time, he didn't want her to feel that way either. It was complicated and confusing, the twists of his own logic.

Another decade and he began wondering if somehow his beloved wife had gotten into Heaven instead. He knew it was a long shot, after everything she had done but, she had also never killed anyone who didn't deserve it. Maybe there was some exception for women who killed their pursuers, when the pursuers were coming on too intensely or had ulterior motives. He wondered if she'd remarried, if she had kids. If she was still on earth, there would have to be something that was keeping her there and that was the only thing that made sense.

Eighty years, as it turned out, had been all he could take. The bird had died and its corpse had rotted, festering into anger. Not anger at Y/n no, never anger at Y/n but anger at the world, at the system of the afterlife. He became bolder, brasher, more foolish. He got caught in a bad deal.

Coming to the hotel had been a command, yes, but it had also ended up being something of a salvation for the man. In the seven years of his disappearance from the rings of Hell, there had been little to distract him from the growing hole of Y/n's absence. It was a hungry thing, a deep seated want, a controlling desire. The hotel served to fill it. Not completely, but a little. It was better than nothing. Besides, for all her violence, Y/n had always had a way of seeing the best in others, in the world around her. He was certain she would have liked Charlie if she ever got to meet her, certain the hotel would shine in his wife's eyes.

Husk and Nifty were the only two who knew. They had both met him when Alastor's focus had been the creation of a world for Y/n, it was impossible for them not to. They had both noticed how as the years had passed, he had said her name less, how he had become crueler. Not even Charlie had in inkling of an idea that Alastor might be missing something, might be unshakable heartbroken. He hid it well.

Even now as he entered the lobby intent on finding Charlie in order to discuss some of the decor on the upper floors, he made sure his smile was firmly fixed in place. A smile was the strongest weapon a person or demon could have, the strongest disguise. He made sure he was never without one.

"So you just arrived today?" he heard Charlie saying as he began to make his way down the stairs.

He could see her by the door, talking to a demon whom her position obscured from his vision. A new guest. Internally, Alastor sighed. This was throwing a wrench into his plans for the day.

"Yeah I... it's all so confusing here. Wonderful in a way, don't get me wrong but... when I heard about your hotel, it seemed safe."

The unknown demon's voice was soft, it pulled at his heart strings. The corpse of the bird was a puppet at its familiarity. It was a sickening feeling, the dead body of his hope being pulled up and twitched around for another's unknowing amusement. Alastor nearly faltered, hesitating on the last step.

"So are you actually interested in redemption?" Charlie asked, sounding downcast.

"Well, I'm not really sure yet. Is that okay? I mean, I just got here today and... either way, I love the idea of your hotel and I want to help. I could work as a maid? Or I'm a pretty good cook? My husband always said so anyways. I'm sort of trying to find someone too so... What I'm trying to say is that I could work until I've figured it out, if that is alright with you?"

Charlie hummed in thought as Alastor began to cross the room, heading straight for the pair.

"It's a bit unorthodox but, I suppose. We could always use another helping hand."

"Really!?" the stranger exclaimed, "Oh thank you!"

Alastor was over Charlie's shoulder practically now. She shifted on her feet, allowing Alastor to at last see the person she was talking to.

"So, what's your name?"

The demon opened her mouth to speak but, before a word could leave her lips, she was interrupted by a static filled voice. It brought back memories, hurt her heart to hear.

"Y/n."

There was no doubt about it. Even in her new demon form, Alastor knew. It was the curl of her hair, it was the brightness of her eyes, the way she held herself. She looked up at him with wide eyes.

"When did you get here?" Charlie asked in confusion as she turned to the side, turning the pair into a group of three all facing one another, "Also, you know her? Oh my gosh, wait. Are you okay? I don't think I've ever seen you not smiling before."

Neither payed the princess any mind, each absorbed in one another's eyes. Y/n took a sutering half step forwards, her mouth slightly open.

"Alastor?"

It was barley more than a whisper. She took another step towards him, then yet another. Lifting her hand, she gently cupped it around his cheek. Instinctively, the Radio Demon leaned into the touch.

"It really is you... isn't it."

Alastor pulled Y/n into his arms, wrapping her in his frame and resting his chin on the top of her head. Y/n was frozen in shock for a moment before she returned the gesture, balling her fists in to the back of his coat.

"Wow. You guys really know each other." Charlie mumbled to herself, eyes wide.

The pair pulled apart, Alastor still holding Y/n's waist as Y/n held his coat. She looked up at him, disbelief etched into her features, her sentiments reflected back to her in Alastor's own face.

"I thought..." he mumbled, raising a hand and tucking a stray strand of hair behind her ear, "I thought I'd never see you again."

Y/n laughed tearfully.

"Me too."

"Where have you been? What happened? What... what took you so long?"

"If I had known I was coming to you, I would have died way sooner. I lived, Al. That's what happened. I only just got here today."

"I know, I heard, but what... what kept you?"

Y/n heard the tremor in his voice, the fear. She looked up at him, eyes narrowed.

"Are you jealous?"

Alastor's eyes flicked to the side momentarily. One of his ears twitched. It might have been nearly ninety years since they had last seen one another, they might've looked completely different and had whole lives the other wasn't in, but it felt like they had just seen one another yesterday.

"Oh, you so are!" Y/n teased brightly.

"Y/n."

"Yeah, yeah. It's just dumb is all, especially now I know you've been here all along."

"So tell me."

Y/n had always loved his insistence. It was what kept Alastor to his code, kept him to her, kept him him. She smiled once again.

"Soooo..." Charlie stepped in, her hands behind her back, "Either of you want to explain?"

Both Alastor and Y/n at last turned to look at her. He was smiling again, Charlie noticed. Not the normal ear to ear grin, teeth bared, she was used to. Something smaller, something softer. They released one another, only for Alastor to immediately drape an arm over Y/n's shoulders. It almost seemed like each feared the other would vanish into thin air if they weren't physically touching. She reached a hand up, gently holding his hand where it hung off her shoulder, keeping him to her.

"Charlie, this is my darling, lovely wife."

Y/n shoved him playfully and he smiled down at her.

"You're married!?"

"Yes." Y/n nodded, "We are. Have been for what, like one hundred years now?"

"So what kept you?" Alastor asked again and Y/n sighed.

"You really aren't going to let this go, are you?"

He shook his head. Y/n slipped out from under Alastor's arm, taking both his hands in hers. Her fingers traced his knuckles, the lines of his bones beneath the surface of his skin. Her eyes watched their hands, she sighed.

"After... well, Al, you died burying a body. It was hard for people not to know. I..."

"You got caught? You went to jail?" Alastor interrupted, his smile having fallen once again.

Y/n laughed slightly under her breath.

"No, heart. I stopped my own work but, the whole world knew of yours. I thought that... it was so dumb! I thought that... if I was alive, then so was the real version of you in some way. Not the true crime, vandalized version, but the person I knew."

Alastor lifted her face to his, his hand lingering under her chin.

"You were always secretly quite the romantic, weren't you."

"Oh hush you."

"Make me."

Y/n cheeks suddenly flushed bright red.

"Okay!" Charlie interrupted, laughing nervously, "Okay, well, I'm happy for... this, um, Alastor! Why don't you show Y/n around?"

"With pleasure."

Alastor leaned down, kissing Y/n gently. Her hand was half raised to burry itself in his hair when he pulled away, smirking in response to Y/n's irritated glare. Linking arms with her, he began leading Y/n to the staircase.

"I must say, I rather like this new look of yours." he hummed placidly.

"You're not half bad yourself deer boy, if a little cocky."

"I was always cocky. That's what you liked about me."

"Wrong. It's only one of the things I love about you."

----

Next Part -> Cover Up pt. 3

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adriennebarnes · 2 months

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Little Bit of Food

Pairing: Henry Cavill x Hispanic/Latina! Reader

Summary: Y/N sees a TikTok video of couple where the women serves her partner more food on his plate than on hers. For research purposes, she just wants to see how he would react.

Warning: no translated Spanish, spelling and grammar errors, SHORT

A/N: since I am Mexican and Peruvian, the foods mentioned are typical foods that I grew up eating, I LOVE these foods so much, if any other Latine readers have suggestions of what dishes should be mentioned, comment below and I’ll tag you when I use them in another one shot. Also, sorry if it’s short, I don’t think I can build off a lot of “story material” over a TikTok trend, you know?

Y/N was watching TikTok and she saw a video that was interesting to her.

It was of a couple and a woman served her husband more food on his plate than on her own. The husband insisted that his wife should have more food and that he could eat something later.

Y/N knew that Henry was going to busy at the gym for a few hours so that gave her plenty of time to make one of Henry’s favorite meals that Y/N introduced him to, and that’s bistec a lo pobre. She bought sliced New York steaks from the Mexican grocery store (there’s always a butcher there), also some tortillas and 2 avocados to make guacamole or a sandwich later. When she went back to Henry’s house, she started cutting up tomatoes and onions so it would give the steak flavor. She put the onions and tomatoes aside in a bowl and got out the white rice in the pantry to wash the rice.

Half an hour later, Henry was came through the door sweaty and with a happy Kal.

“Ay hola, Kal, como te fue con tu papi, hm?” Y/N asked, kneeling to pet Kal.

“You call me papi?” Henry asked, drinking water from his sports bottle.

“When I’m talking about you to Kal, yes. Ain’t no way I’m calling you that though, it’s weird because I call my actual dad, papi. So don’t even think about it.” Y/N warned Henry as she washed her hands in the kitchen sink.

“Too late, I’m already thinking about, my lady.” Henry said, kissing her cheek as he hugged her from behind.

“Stop it. I’m making your favorite so please take a quick shower and then I’ll call you when it’s ready. Do you want one or two eggs?” Y/N asked.

“Two please, thanks love.” Henry said, kissing her lips before heading upstairs for his shower.

Y/N began sautéing the onions and tomatoes in the pan before adding in two pieces of steak for Henry, we’ll, one and a half, she cut a half piece for her plate. She got a plate out of the pantry to serve two ‘scoops’ of rice, adding the cooked steaks with tomatoes and onions on top of it, and preceded to fry two eggs on a different pan.

“Toro, food!” Y/N shouted and Kal calming running. “I said ‘toro’, not ‘oso’, you need to practice your Spanish, Kal.” Y/N said and placed Henry’s plate on his side of the table. Henry came running downstairs with his hair wet but he’s dressed in some shorts and a t-shirt.

“Thanks love, it looks amazing.” Henry said, kissing her.

“That’s good, now eat up, you’ve had a long workout.” Y/N said and that’s when she got a smaller plate, served herself a half scoop of rice, her half steak with 3 pieces of tomatoes and onions, and no eggs. When she sat down and said “let’s eat”, Henry looked at Y/N’s plate, then at his own.

“Darling, were you snacking while you were cooking again?” Henry asked, trying to find a reasonable explanation for the lack of food on his girlfriend’s plate.

“No, no, I didn’t snack at all. Eat before the eggs become cold.” Y/N pointed at him with her fork.

“Are you sick? You didn’t have to cook if you weren’t feeling well, love.” Henry said in a concerned voice.

“I’m fine Henry, I went to Fernando’s market today but the steak was too expensive so I only bought 2.” Y/N lied, she buys like half a pound of steak, there’s still 3 or 4 pieces in the fridge. Henry got up and grabbed his keys. “Where are you going?”

“To the market to buy more steak, what cut do you order a again? Med-ee-ya Libra de what?” Henry asked, opening the door,

“No no no, Henry, there’s no need for that, I can survive without bistec, please sit down and eat.” Y/N said, Henry closed the door, put down his keys, and sat back down.

“What about the eggs or the rice? I’m sure you could fill up on that, you told me you ate that when you were younger when there was nothing to eat.” Henry said.

“The last eggs were used on you, Toro. Now please eat before your food gets cold. You want something to drink? I got chicha (It’s a purple corn drink) if you don’t want soda.” Y/N said.

“Yeah, that’s fine, darling.” Henry said, when Y/N walked into the kitchen, Henry switched his plate for Y/N’s. When Y/N came back with chicha for Henry and soda for her, she saw what Henry did.

“Toro! You weren’t supposed to do that. You had a big workout, you’re bigger than me, you need all the protein you can get from this.” Y/N said, trying to switch the plates back but Henry refused.

“Nope, you cooked all this, you deserve to eat your delicious food. I could find something later.” Henry said,

“But you must be hungry, just eat it, I can make myself some potato quesadillas later.” Y/N said, attempting to get the plate back from Henry but he swatted her hand. “Toro!”

“I’m sorry love, but it’s for your good.” Henry said.

“I Don’t want you to be starving,” Y/N said,

“I won’t starve, my love. Watching you enjoy your food is filling enough for me.” Henry said and Y/N’s heart melted. She got out of her seat to sit on Henry’s lag, placing her hands on his neck to hug him.

“Amor, it’s a prank. There’s more steak in the fridge that I can fry up, there’s a lot of rice on the stove and plenty of eggs. Now please eat while I go serve myself more food.” Y/N said getting off him and grabbing her plate to do exactly that.

“You scared me, love. I was about to head over to the market…where is it by the way?” Henry asked,

“Haha, i can’t even tell you, I just know how to get there.” Y/N said, placing her steak in the pan and she watched Henry eat his meal.

“Delicious! This might even be better than your bistec empanado, did I pronounce that right?” Henry asked,

“Yes you did, Toro, but bistec empanado with sopita aguada is comfort food, along with quesadilla de papas, which I will be making tomorrow, I’ve been craving it,” Y/N said.

“That sounds so good, I have to make sure I work out even more. When I made you my girlfriend, I had no idea you would try to fatten me up.” Henry said and Y/N gasped, flipping the steak.

“I would never, how dare you accuse me. I’m gonna make flan for my friend’s birthday on Saturday so I’m gonna make another one just for us.” Y/N said and that made Henry laugh.

“I love your flan, darling. Your cooking skills put mine to shame.” Henry said. Y/N placed her steak on her place, serving more rice, and began frying an egg.

“I was born with that sazón, Toro.” Y/N said teasingly. She finished frying the egg, served it on her plate, and went to sit down. “Better?” Y/n asked, showing Henry her plate.

“Much better, my lady.” Henry said, kissing her. Kal barked. “Yes bear, you can have some steak too.” Henry said,

The End

Taglist: @warriormirkwood

#hispanic reader #latina #hispanic #henry cavill x reader #henry cavill #henry cavil x y/n #henry cavill fic #henry cavill fanfiction

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kitixie · 10 months

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Little Girl Gone (pt 2)

Little Girl Gone / T.S. (part 2)

part three here

Synopsis: You agree to meet up with Tommy for dinner, but when it doesnt go to plan you find yourself in a dangerous situation.

warnings: violence (not extreme, very canon typical), tommy is not nice but i promise it'll make sense later, cursing

word count: 2.4k

taglist: @budugu , please let me know if youd like to be tagged!

information: Thank you all so much for reading, it warms my heart to know someone enjoys my writing! please leave a comment if you have a critique or anything else to say!

Around 4:30 the following evening, you began to get ready for your dinner with Thomas.

As you brushed and styled your hair, you thought of his strange mannerisms from the night before. He had seemed off towards the end of the conversation, and that was something that never happened, as nothing ever threw Thomas off. Just as the final touches of your hair and makeup came together, you realized the time. You had been so lost in your thoughts and in your indulgent hair care and makeup routine, that you had spent an hour primping and priming. Now only thirty minutes away from Tommy’s arrival, you needed to pick out a dress.

To a man, picking out a dress for dinner may seem like a small task in the grand scheme of his day, but all women know this to be false. First, you pick a dress. Then, you have to pick coordinating stockings, an overcoat, sometimes an undercoat, a bag, gloves, and depending on time of day, a hat. So what most men would deem as a quick process, isn’t a quick process at all. You did happen to be in luck though, as your favorite dress was one of the only items of clothing you’d hung up in your small closet after you moved in. You had your stockings from the night before, and they were a perfect match for your skin tone so that was also an easy choice. You decided to forgo a handbag, as you’d just be going to the Shelby’s, so you wouldn’t need any money. For shoes, you settled on a pair of well-broken-in kitten heels. This outfit was out of your recent rotation, given the odd jobs and such you had been working after your fathers death and mothers disownment, but Tommy always dressed to impress, so you thought you should too. Following that train of thought, you added a pair of your mothers white satin gloves, and awaited his arrival at your place.

6:00 pm

A loud knock sounded through your apartment, and you quickly jumped to open the door. There, in all his glory, stood Thomas Shelby. Looking good as ever in his black suit with a pressed white dress shirt, this time his hat folded in his hands.

“Y/N, you look lovely this evening.”, he remarked, eyes scanning you from head to toe.

“Thank you Tommy, you look handsome, as always,” you blushed, feeling the heat rise to your cheeks.

Tommy smiled, offering his hand to help you out of the door and down the stairs of your apartment. You accepted his hand, loosely holding it in yours, before dropping it to turn around and lock the door of your home.

Once the two of you had made it to Tommy’s car, he opened your door.

“Always the gentleman, aye Tommy?”, you laughed, giving him a soft smile as you stepped into the car and sank down into the passenger seat.

“For you, yes, always.” He nodded, reciprocating your smile, and gently closing the door.

He rounded the car, getting in on his own side and starting the engine up. It gave a sputter, then turned over, allowing him to put it in gear.

“I could take a look at sometime that if you’d like Tommy.” You spoke softly, wanting to offer your help.

“How do you know anything about automobiles? Did you work as a mechanic in your time away, Love?” He joked, a small laugh followed by a toothy smile coming from his mouth.

“Yes, actually. I did.” You said sternly, not appreciating the mans sarcasm.

“And what else did you do in your time away? I suppose you also learned to train horses, or fire a gun?” He joked again, clearly not understanding your short tone of voice.

“One of those I did, the other I am still clueless about. Feel free to guess which.” You stated, now having grown angry at his teasing.

Tommy feigned a sigh, followed by his imitation of a horses neigh. The two of you remained silent for the remainder of the ride to Watery Lane, only for the conversation to be interrupted by Tommy as the two of you pulled up to park in front of the house.

“Just so you know, Arthur and Pol are here as well. They wanted to hear all your stories about your time away as soon as I told them I was bringing you over.” He spoke, his gaze remaining on your face.

“Okay, Tommy.” You spat, still quite upset about the conversation at the beginning of the ride.

Before he could ask any questions, you pulled open the door to the car, getting out. He tried to catch up to you, but you made it to the front door of the Shelby home before he did, and let yourself in the house. Old habits die hard, as they say.

Once inside the home, you surveyed your surroundings. Not much of the decor had changed, a few updated photos here and there, but mostly everything was still in its rightful place. You made your way through the house at a leisurely pace, admiring all the once familiar details that now seemed new. You made your way to the dining room, while Tommy still trailed behind you, watching your every move.

“Oh dear, it is so lovely to see you again! It’s been so long, how are you?” Pol said, quickly rising from her chair to give you a warm, yet firm hug.

“I’ve been good Pol, thank you. How have you been?” You returned, not only as a formality but because you were genuinely interested in her life.

As Pol rattled off her answer, talking about ‘business this’ and ‘this family that’, you noticed Tommy move behind you. He came around to your left side, pulling a chair out. You remained standing, not wanting to sit if that was where he had wanted to sit, but the soft hand on the small of your back encouraged you to take the seat. You briefly nodded up at him and gave a soft smile, then continuing to listen to Pol.

After Pol had placed food for everyone on the table, you all began eating. Someone had made a delicious meal, one of your favorites. You first assumed it was Pol, but when you complemented her, she quickly told you ‘Oh dear, I didn’t make this’ and cast a look at Tommy from across the table. You didn’t put any effort into figuring out what that glance meant, rather you just enjoyed the food and answered their occasional question. The questions weren’t anything to outrageous, until one came tumbling out of Arthur’s mouth.

“So, Y/N, what made you come back to the grand ol’ town of Small Heath?” He said, smiling at his question.

“I, uh,” you swallowed. You had truly hoped no one would ask, but you should’ve expected it. You cursed yourself for not preparing an answer ahead of time.

Your mouth ran dry for a moment as you tried to formulate what to say that would keep you out of the most shit. You didn’t want to blurt out the truth, but they most likely already knew it anyways, they were the Shelby’s after all.

“My mother and I had a disagreement about my…life plan.” You spoke, satisfied with your answer.

“What life plan, dear? What does that mean?” Pol added to the questioning.

“Probably the same life plan that included her learning about cars and horses,” Tommy said under his breath, but not nearly quiet enough, as the entire table heard him.

“Now Thomas, you know women can do what they choose.” Pol reprimanded, giving Tom a stern stare.

“Yes, women can.” He spoke, “but not Y/N.”

“And why not Thomas? Am I not a woman?” You said, letting your fork clank against your plate. He had your full attention now, and not in a good way.

“You are, you’re just…different.” He spoke, his gaze now on you instead of Pol.

You scoffed, and shook your head at him. You couldn’t believe what he was saying. You didn’t recognize the Tommy in front of you, your Tommy, the one from 5 years ago, would have been uncaring about your interests, and glad to have someone be so knowledgeable about certain topics. You just stared at him for a moment, waiting on him to say something, anything, that would explain his previous remarks. But nothing ever came, and when you realized nothing ever would, you stood from the table, thanked Pol and Arthur for the dinner, and headed for the door.

Once outside the Shelby house, now all alone, you began walking. You were initially going to go home, but the dwindling liquor supply in your own cabinets encouraged you to find The Garrison. You walked down the streets, that still held a handful of people, mulling your thoughts. Tommy acted like a real jackass, especially given that he was the one who invited you over. By the time your anger had mostly settled, you reached the doors of The Garrison.

9:00 pm

You’d been sat at the bar of The Garrison for around an hour, and were plenty of drinks deep. You now held no anger towards Tommy; hell, you could barely picture his face in your mind. You hadn’t intended on getting drunk tonight, but the lovely barmaid by the name of Grace had been giving you all your drinks ‘on the house’, and who were you to turn down free alcohol? Especially given how you’d left your purse at home because you were ‘just going to the Shelby’s’.

A loud grunt came from behind you, followed by a man sitting down on the stool next to yours. You gave him a quick glance and nod, not recognizing his face.

“What’s a pretty lady like you doing at the bar all alone, aye?”, he questioned, breathing his hot, putrid breath into your face.

“One, I’m not alone. Two, none of your business, aye?” You said, hoping to be forceful enough that he got the hint and left you alone.

Unfortunately, he did not. The next thing you knew, he had his fat arm wrapped around your waist, pulling you closer to his barstool.

“Now listen here, little lady,” he breathed, “You can come to the back alley with me on your own will, or I can make you.” He threatened, brandishing a bowie knife from his waist.

You sat for a moment, considering your options. You knew you definitely were not going into that alley, even if you had to die bloody for it. You quickly came up with a plan in your head, and before you could talk yourself out of it, you acted.

“Fat chance, ya bastard. Now let me go,” you said loudly, hoping to draw some attention.

The man laughed at you, and moved his hand up to grab your shoulder, encasing your frame in his large arm. There was no denying he had size on you, but you had speed. And speed always won. You quickly ducked under his arm, knocking your barstool over behind you. You grabbed his wrist as you slipped out of his hold, bringing his hand to the middle of his back.

“What do ya say now, you piece of shit,” you laughed in his ear.

Faster than you expected, he ripped his wrist from your hands, and turned to face you. You heard a loud pop, then the feeling of pain registered on your face. The fucker had just backhanded you infront of the entire Garrison. You gave a small chuckle, which spiraled into a full out laugh, leaving the man utterly confused. You turned your eyes up towards him, feigning doe eyes at the man, before you placed both hands on his shoulders. You moved in closer to his body, and before he could realize, you hooked your right leg behind his knee, and shoved his shoulders as hard as you could manage and still stay upright.

The large man tumbled to the ground, hitting his head on your now discarded barstool. While you had the chance, you snatched the knife from his hands and knelt down on top of his large body. You pressed the edge of his blade against his own neck, feeling a sense of pride swell through you. You had just taken down this very large, muscular man in front of an entire pub. But before you could get any witty remarks out to your fallen opponent, you heard one thing.

“Y/N, what have you done?”

Fuck. Tommy had found you, and no less, found you on top of man, with a knife against his throat, in his brothers pub.

“Y/N, get off of him. Now.” Tommy spoke, his voice sounding closer now. You turned your head to look at him, finally taking your eyes off of the assailant for just a moment.

Tommy was standing right behind you, with a look similar to what you could assume the wrath of God would look like. He stood poised, with his hands behind his back, peaky hat on top of his head, hiding his eyes. You turned back to look at the fallen man underneath you, seeing his own look of fear on his face. Then you noticed drops of blood splatting onto the man's face. He wasn’t bleeding, you hadn’t cut him, this much you knew. You tossed the knife to the side, far enough away where neither of you could reach it, and felt for your own face. A warm spot of blood came back on your hand; He had cut the corner of your eye open when he backhanded you. You felt angry at first, then ashamed. This man had cut you, and you kept fighting him like a crazed person. Hot tears bubbled at the corners of your eyes, before you climbed off of the man.

Tommy grabbed you, helping you to stand on your feet. You were still trying to hold back the tears in your eyes while he gently held your chin, looking over your wound.

“Love, go to the office. Wait for me, I’ll be there soon.” He spoke, softly.

You mustered a nod, and scuffled your way to the back office, to wait for him.

#thomas shelby x reader #tommy shelby x reader #tommy shelby imagine #tommy shelby fic #tommy shelby x you #thomas shelby x y/n #peaky blinder fanfic #thomas shelby #tommy shelby

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kiyosw · 11 months

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can i request with kafka, and himeko. where the reader was like always looking at people with a blank look but one day reader finally shows them a smile also showing their dimples for the first time, and kafka, and himeko has added another thing they love about you on their list. apologies if you're not accepting requests right now, aswell as if it's too short. but, i just love your writing so im interested.

TANGLED AND LOVE STUCK BY YOU, FROM THE GLUE.

CHARATCER/S: KAFKA, HIMEKO

WARNIG/S: GN READER, SLIGHTLY POSSESIVE (KAFKA), STELLARON HUNTER READER (KAFKA), EXPRESS CREW MEMBER READER (HIMEKO)

NOTE 1: OHOHKGL WAIT THIS IS SO CUTE AND YES MY REQUESTS ARE OPEN AND ITS NOT TOO SHORT! TY FOR THE COMPLIMENT THANK YOU SO MUCH I LOVE YOU the fact that I LOVE THESE TWO WOMEN just makes it cuter but ANYWAY!!

Himeko as your lover knows you rarely, barely smile.

Even when it's just the two of you on her room cuddling and enjoying eachothers presence, you would just comfortably hum while snuggling into her deeper.

She sometimes wonder if she makes you feel gloomy, or uncomfortable so that's why you rarely smile. But you reassured her that she never made you feel like that.

And on the express too, when you're talking to your fellow trailblazers (march, danheng, welt etc.). You would just stare at them with a blank, but not an intimidating expression.

She asked you one time on why you don't often smile, but you didn't really know why, really. You just told Himeko that you didn't even noticed it.

"Oh? Okay then, but do remember that I'll be more than fine to see you express your feelings more often, my dearest."

When she first saw you smile because of a corny but worth to laugh at the joke that march made, she was taken aback. Shocked, she's head over heels for you over again at that moment.

The way your dimples appeared while you're softly smiling melted her heart. She indeed, fell inlove again at her sweet lover.

After the conversation between march and you, she approached march and asked if she took a picture on her portable camera while you we're smiling and looking so effortlessly pretty.

"March, have you taken a shot of y/n while they're smiling? You did? Great! Can you please make me a copy of it? Just one will do."

This woman would TEASE you for not smiling. Endless teasing. She would jokingly call you an "emo", "bladie the 2nd", and you would simply blush in embarassment from her silly nicknames for you. She's the only one allowed to call you that.

After a long and sweet kiss from her, you would just simply sigh in satisfaction while burying your face over her neck instead of smiling over her neck.

Nevertheless, she still loved your way of affection towards her even when you're not showing your enotions through your reactions.

Even when talking to your fellow co-stellaron hunters, you would just give them a blank, but not threatening expression while having a chat with them.

Blade likes to chat with you more often than the other hunters since you're not annoying and loud, just listening and giving out a few words for what he said. He's like your sibling, that's how some of the people around you see.

But as jealous as kafka is, she would literally snatch you up, pull you and kiss you while blade is just sneering at the both of you.

After what just happen, she then ushered you away.

"Aww.. is my little emo preferring that dead vampire looking blade over me?"

She was jokingly pouting and satirically giving you puppy eyes while saying her thoughts at that moment.

After she said that, you just simply chuckled with light pink hues scattered over your cheeks, then later on pecked her lips while smiling.

"Of course not.. even if you are a bit annoying with your nicknames, I'll never prefer anyone over you."

Oh how the tables have turned. Now she's the one blushing not just because of what you said or the peck, but because of your smile.Your damn smile.

Those dimples of yours got her blushing like a lovestrucked fool. She knew she won't forget this side of you easily.

After that she just shushed you and pulled you to kiss her again.

NOTE 2: AHHHH I hope this was what you expected, I apologize if I may not so thats why I made the two scenarios of them different so you can pick at the two. BUT ANYWAY! HOPE YOU ALL ENJOYED!! :3

#senfles #sensfiles #himeko x gn reader #kafka x gn reader #honkai star rail #hsr fluff #himeko x reader #kafka x reader

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actualmermaid · 6 months

Text

Today is All Saints Day, and I'm observing it in a somewhat unconventional manner: cyberbullying the Anglican Church in North America

The ACNA, if you're not familiar, is a group that splintered off from the Episcopal Church in 2009. The reason for the schism was that they believed TEC had "gone astray" by ordaining women priests and affirming LGBTQ people, so a bunch of conservative Episcopalians and clergy split off into their own group: the ACNA. They claim to be "continuing" Anglicans, representing the "real" Anglican tradition in the US and Canada.

The reason I'm cyberbullying them on All Saints Day is because they are conspicuously missing a lovely, pious, respectable, and orthodox Anglican saint: Saint Aelred of Rievaulx (1110-1167 CE)

St. Aelred was a monk, abbot, historian, and spiritual writer from Northumbria. During his lifetime, the abbey boasted hundreds of monks and lay brothers, because Aelred was known for his friendly and gentle demeanor, wise leadership, and healthy community. He had the ear of kings and bishops all over northern Europe. He preached charity, humility, chastity, and all kinds of other Christian virtues. In short, he was the very model of a respectable medieval churchman.

He was also Very Much In Love With Men, and he wrote a treatise called "Spiritual Friendship," which might be nicknamed "How To Be In Love With Men In A God-Honoring Way." I've read it. It's wonderful and timeless and also very, very gay. He was in love with men. In a gay way.

Fast forward to the year 1980. Up until this point, St. Aelred had been a somewhat obscure local English saint. And then a groundbreaking new book was published which challenged all conventional narratives surrounding the Church and queer people in the Middle Ages: Christianity, Social Tolerance and Homosexuality by John Boswell. Boswell wrote at some length about Aelred and his love for men, drawing on his other work besides "Spiritual Friendship" and situating him into what was actually something of a "golden age" of gay culture in western Europe. Yes, really.

Fast forward again to the year 1985. At the Episcopal Church's general convention that year, members of Integrity USA (the original LGBTQ advocacy org in TEC) campaigned to have St. Aelred added to the calendar of saints. The House of Bishops agreed, and they added him to the church calendar with full knowledge that Aelred was gay.

Aelred was also physically disabled, and he wrote about his Spiritual Friend becoming "my hand, my eye, the staff of my old age": in other words, his Spiritual Friend was his caretaker as his health declined near the end of his life (which was still quite short even for a medieval person). He also describes the pain of his Spiritual Friend's early death in a way that remains tender 800 years later. I will leave you to imagine why that might be spiritually relevant to a bunch of nice church gays in 1985.

Fast forward again to 2009. The conservative wing of the Church has had enough of TEC's bleeding-heart liberal reforms, so they secede from the union leave and establish their own church without any icky queers or women priests. St. Aelred had been an official Episcopal saint for 25 years at that point, and the newly-formed ACNA had to consciously, deliberately choose to remove him from their calendar of saints.

Fast forward again to earlier this summer. I start doing research into queer Christian history and queer saints. I realize that Aelred is conspicuously missing from the ACNA's calendar, so I look into the background and decide to get obnoxious about it on Instagram. Because this is VERY embarrassing for a church that claims to be the "real" Anglican Church in North America.

A selection of memes for your enjoyment:

#christianity #lgbtq #history #anglican #episcopalian

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chiharuhashibira · 2 months

Text

What about a shorts featuring your fave Kimetsu No Yaiba teacher?

But make it Professor X Student 👀

Hey guys~ As promised! I am here again in one of my... favourite masterpiece 🤭

Thank you for answering the poll we had before~

So this will be the plan for the NSFW Series, I will finish our Special Class: Chemistry with Obanai then proceed with one chapter of the Tsugoku X Hashira and one chapter of the Oiran X Hashira.

Hope it works with y'all. Love yah hoho

Honestly I am so happy that I writing for this series again 😍

Anyways, let's start. You are very quiet 22 yo graduating-student. Obanai is 29.

𝓜𝓪𝓼𝓽𝓮𝓻𝓵𝓲𝓼𝓽

𝑺𝒑𝒆𝒄𝒊𝒂𝒍 𝑪𝒍𝒂𝒔𝒔𝒆𝒔: 𝑪𝒉𝒆𝒎𝒊𝒔𝒕𝒓𝒚

𝐊𝐲𝐨𝐣𝐮𝐫𝐨 𝐑𝐞𝐧𝐠𝐨𝐤𝐮 𝐕𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐢𝐨𝐧 | 𝐓𝐞𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐧 𝐔𝐳𝐮𝐢 𝐕𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐢𝐨𝐧 | 𝐆𝐢𝐲𝐮 𝐓𝐨𝐦𝐢𝐨𝐤𝐚 𝐕𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐢𝐨𝐧 | 𝐒𝐚𝐧𝐞𝐦𝐢 𝐒𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐚𝐳𝐮𝐠𝐚𝐰𝐚 𝐕𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐢𝐨𝐧 | 𝐎𝐛𝐚𝐧𝐚𝐢 𝐈𝐠𝐮𝐫𝐨 𝐕𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐢𝐨𝐧

𝐍𝐞𝐱𝐭 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫>

Content Warnings: ProfessorXStudent/Age Gap/Suggestive/Curse Words/Matured Content/18+/Sexually Explicit/Mentions of Death/Angst/Tragedy

Minors DNI.

🌸𝑶𝒃𝒂𝒏𝒂𝒊 𝑰𝒈𝒖𝒓𝒐🌸

(Images are not mine, credits to the rightful owner)

"Is that all you've got?"

Your chemistry professor, Obanai Iguro, spoke, his voice slicing through the air like a blade. Feeling the biting pain of his apathy more than any harsh criticism, you grimaced inside as you heard his remarks. His intense scrutiny pressed down on your already fragile self-assurance, forcing you to look downward.

"I... I'm trying my best, Iguro-sensei." You felt your insides tremble as you spoke with a low voice, which could barely be audible under the quiet hum of the fluorescent light inside his classroom.

You're usually the jolliest and most active student in all science classes, particularly chemistry, because you want to be a chemist. But then, everything changed four years ago when the woman you regarded as an older sister passed away because of her dedication to science and education.

You hated science. You barely make an effort at it right now because it triggers you so much. But, of course, you don't want your professor to know that. Especially because of the rumours about his "allergy to women" and so on. Of course, he wouldn't understand your pain.

With his visage frozen in place, Obanai studied you dispassionately, as if you were a specimen in an exhibit. He repeated, "Your best?" He spoke with an acidic undertone of doubt. "Well, Y/N-san..."

You gulped.

"Your best? It seems severely lacking," Obanai added, his comments cutting through your delicate self-esteem. "Perhaps you should reconsider your actions before I end up failing you this semester. Chemistry's not for the faint of heart."

After saying that, he looked away, shifting his focus elsewhere, leaving you to grapple with the aftermath of his heartless disregard. However, one could not help but detect a hint of warmth and longing concealed beneath the academic dispassion that adorned their facade of indifference.

"I heard another student cried at Shinazugawa-san's classes earlier."

"I know, right! Someone also cried at Tomioka-sensei's. What's wrong with these professors?"

"I don't know. There's another professor, though, who is a terror. That... that weird face mask guy."

"Oh, Iguro-sensei."

"Yes! I'm glad I'm not in his class."

"Yeah, me too. We're lucky that we're in Rengoku-sensei's classes all day. I wouldn't ever complain. He's a ray of sunshine!"

"Uzui-sensei too... He's handsome, too. We're so lucky!"

"DAMN YOU KIDS! YOU'RE SO NOISY! GO BACK TO YOUR CLASSES!"

You watched as Shinazugawa-sensei stepped out of his class to yell at those two talkative students. You gulped, feeling scared that he might yell at you too. But fortunately, he didn't. You can't bear having additional stress today, especially after hearing Obanai's words earlier.

But then, you clearly remembered your earlier encounter. Looking into his enigmatic eyes, you can't help but wonder about that sudden flicker of emotion that he showed you. It's hard to believe, but it seems like there is more than meets the eye when it comes to Obanai. And yes, you're kind of curious to know what that is.

You didn't know that Obanai was secretly watching you on the corner. He's used to hearing students complain about him, so it's surprising that you didn't escalate the situation after hearing them. Especially considering what he did earlier.

"Am I too harsh again, Kaburamaru?" He asked the harmless snake, who was just busy slithering on his shoulders. No answer came, of course, so then Obanai just went back to his lonely classroom.

In the days that passed, Obanai's harsh words still haven't left your mind. But yes, even if you wanted to do your best, his subject is just so hard to deal with, not because you find it hard, but because of the sad memories that it brings you.

As you sit and listen to him in his classes, you can't help but find yourself grappling with a tumult of emotions. So one afternoon, you were astounded to feel a presence beside you, only to discover it was the chemistry professor. You were startled to see his heterochromatic eyes fixate on you with an intensity that took your breath away.

"Y/N-san," he said, his voice more muted than you'd ever heard before, but with an understated strength in its tone. "May I have a word with you?"

Your heartbeats were quickening at the unexpected invitation. "Of course, Iguro-sensei," you replied, your voice tinged with a mixture of apprehension and curiosity.

Obanai led you to a secluded corner of the hallway, away from prying eyes and wandering ears of the other college students. As you both stood there, bathed in the soft glow of afternoon light, you couldn't help but notice the subtle shift in Obanai's demeanour—a concern that belied his usual stoic composure.

"I've been watching you, Y/N." Your chemistry professor began with his heterochromatic eyes, meeting yours with unwavering curiosity. "You seem to be more lost than when I first talked to you. Is there anything you need to tell me?"

"As far as I know, there's none, sensei."

Obanai raised one eyebrow at you and crossed his arms, only to reveal Kaburamaru, who was hiding beneath his oversized lab coat. You blink in confusion at what you are seeing right now. You have heard the students talk about Iguro bringing his pet snake to the university a lot of times. However, you regarded those as purely rumours.

But seeing the white snake right now, you can't help but be amazed. You also had a pet snake in the past, which you and your best friend used to take care of. "Oh, what's its name?"

"Kaburamaru."

"I see. It looks beautiful..."

"Oh? You're not afraid of him?"

"No. I'm not. He reminds me of the snake that I used to see on our garden before."

"Oh..."

"Yes, sensei. Hmmm, when I was just 5, I used to see a white snake in our garden. I even tried to touch it."

The oozing tension and unwelcoming aura that Obanai used to blanket himself with seemed to fade as his eyes widened with what you said. He looked amused right now, and that kind of calmed you down.

"I see..."

It looks like he wanted to ask more, but then nothing came. So, you decided to get straight to the point.

"Iguro-sensei, I've got to go. I'm so sorry if I always disappoint you in class. I really do."

You said you felt guilty for letting your emotions always take hold of you. But before you could go, Iguro handed you something.

"A notebook?"

"Yeah. Try to study with those notes. Perhaps it could help."

You took the white notebook from his hand and gave him a small smile. "Thank you, sensei."

You swear that before Obanai turned around, you saw his cheek turn pink. That left you dazed, but then, it's none of your business.

Despite the amusement that you have felt for knowing Obanai has a soft spot, you can't help but not believe yourself for what happened. Why did he give you this notebook? Why is he observing you in the first place?

It kind of made you shiver, as you felt like one wrong move and bad things would happen with Obanai. Interpreting that moment as a sign of his concern for you, you chose to give him the benefit of the doubt. Perhaps...

After showering, you sat on your study table and looked at the innocuous photo in front of you. It was your best friend and non-blood-related older sister, Shinobu Kocho, who had passed away. How you've missed her and the time when she's just there for you. You loved the girl so much that you wanted to be like her.

You never would have thought that one day you'd end up hating something you love for taking someone away from you.

"Shinobu-san, I'm sorry for being a failure. I... I'll try my best to bring back my passion."

You whispered in the air, realising that, yes, if the woman is still here, she wouldn't want you to fail.

With that sudden flame igniting inside you, you opened the notebook Obanai had given you. Goosebumps formed on your body as you traced his handwriting. He has good handwriting, and you can't help but smile because of it.

It reminded you of Shinobu's wonderful handwriting, which you have always adored but also sort of didn't, as Obanai wrote in cursive.

And with that, as if by magic, time passed. You didn't realise that it was actually two in the morning when you finally stopped reviewing. Yes. It has been the first time again that you have let yourself get too absorbed in anything related to science for more than an hour.

It kind of felt overwhelming. Yes, it is overwhelming, as suddenly everything started to make sense again. All the things that you studied before came back. And perhaps it is due to the simplicity with which Obanai explained things in that notebook.

It seemed as though he had specifically designed it for that purpose. To make chemistry simple, which is too different from how he explains things in class.

For some reason, you felt a bit happy. Even if Obanai may appear nonchalant and harsh, he seems to really care. This simple gesture unlocked so many memories.

And even your promise to Shinobu before came back to you, pushing you harder to do better this time.

This is all because Obanai has made an effort to kind of talk to you at the uni this afternoon. And yes, he is cold but that gesture had gave warmth to your frozen heart.

A few days had passed, and one Saturday night, you found yourself sitting in a public library, reading the notes from Obanai's notebook. After the night of your realisation, you felt your passion for science spark again. And yes, it reflected on your grades.

However, Iguro still didn't speak to you after that day. No praise, not even a bat of an eye. You're just there again, invisible, despite doing your best.

Feeling a bit low, you decided to ditch the library and head towards the nearest coffee shop. All you wanted now was to chill and perhaps let your mind rest for a while.

But before you could reach the coffee shop, you accidentally bumped into someone. Without wasting time, you bowed down to apologise, and there, a familiar voice came into your senses.

Your eyes widened, and then, when you looked up, you met those familiar and enigmatic eyes. "S-sensei?" you asked, wondering why in the world would fate bring him to you tonight.

You were trying your best to forget him and his nonchalant attitude towards you, which is really weird after he gave you that notebook. Yes, you were expecting him to be a bit nicer, but he became colder.

"What are you doing here?"

He's still wearing his mask. I wish I could just see his face. You thought as you proceeded to take in his presence. Clad in a striped hoodie and black pants, Obanai could pass off as a university student. He looks young for a professor in the first place.

"Hey, I'm talking to you."

"Oh sensei. Sorry, I was—"

"Spacing out. I know. It's okay. I know it's surprising to see your professor around here."

You were astounded when he talked casually to you. He never did that at school. Oh well, that's because he's apparently your professor. You wanted to slap yourself for your foolish thoughts.

"What's up with you?" Obanai added, which made you blink in surprise. He wants to know what's up with me.

"Nothing much sensei... Just—"

"I'm going to cut you there." He said, and suddenly leaned in on you, which made you blush. His voice went out as a whisper as he told you,

"We're outside the university. It's Obanai, okay? I don't want the people around getting the wrong idea."

"Sorry sen— Obanai-san..."

He straightened up and crossed his arms, piercing you with his fierce eyes once again. "So you were saying?"

"Oh, I was just reviewing. Just heading to the coffee shop now to grab a coffee. How about you?" You said, trying to hide your nervousness from your casual tone. Obanai scratched his chin and shrugged his shoulders.

"Nothing much. Just another Saturday night in the pub, I guess."

WHAT? HE DRINKS? You couldn't hide the flabbergasted expression on your face as you heard those words coming from his mouth. You never thought of Iguro as some guy you'd see in pubs. So this information is shocking to you.

Obanai saw this expression and raised an eyebrow. "Is it weird to hear a grown ass man going to a pub? Why are you looking at me like that? Prick..."

"Sorry... I'm just... weird sometimes. Don't mind me."

"Okay. So, you heading towards the coffee shop? Want me to come with you? It's quite dangerous to walk alone in these streets at night."

This night is definitely getting weirder... in a nice way?

Obanai, asking to walk with you? The stern and cold-hearted chemistry professor, caring for you? You bit your lip and felt a bit flustered.

Yes, he's your professor, but he's also a guy. And it's the first time that a guy has ever offered you this. You know that it isn't too much. It's most likely lower than the bare minimum, but then a part of you started to flutter. You know it's wrong, and it's weird... but... For some reason, you just didn't care.

"Are you sure I'm not going to be a bother with you and your pub appointment?"

"No. I'm kind of thinking to drop the pub thing tonight, actually. Can I join your coffee appointment instead?"

"Why?"

"I don't know. I just want to? Is that an enough reason?"

"Yes, actually."

You found yourself sitting face-to-face with Obanai in your favourite coffee shop, wondering why he was here in the first place if he wouldn't order at all. Feeling a bit conscious, you fixed your braids and decided to take a sip of your coffee.

"Why didn't you order anything? If you want to go to the pub, it's okay."

"I just... don't eat much. And I hate coffee."

"Then why did you go with me here, sensei?"

"Obanai."

"There's no one around. And you're my sensei; we can't hide that fact."

"You're pissing me off."

"I'm not trying too, though. It's just..."

"Why did you stop? It's just what?"

Obanai's voice suddenly sounded a bit offended and sad. You gulped and looked down, stopping yourself from saying that this looks weird because somehow you wanted the company.

"Nothing"

"You can tell me directly if you don't want the company. I just came here to... to make sure you'll be alright. But I guess trying to be nice doesn't always pay off?"

You felt guilty as you watched Obanai stand up from his seat. So then, letting your intrusive thoughts win, you grabbed his hand and pulled him down. "Stay." You didn't care if his allergy to women would be triggered by this contact. All you wanted to do now was kind of comfort him.

Obanai looked at your hand and back to you with question marks almost becoming visible on his face. "Y/N..."

"Sorry..."

"It's okay. I'm used to it."

"I want the company. So stay, Obanai."

The facade of emptiness in Obanai's eyes was shattered after hearing your words. It seems like a memory has suddenly been unlocked inside of him. But then, no words came out of his lips. So you spoke up once again, trying to lighten up the mood.

"So... where are you going after this?" You asked innocently, which made the guy shrug his shoulders again. Obanai isn't speaking again.

You realised that he was looking at your hand, which was still holding him, so you pulled away and tried your best to hide your blush.

After you had let go of his hand, Obanai finally got the strength to speak up. "Walk you home."

"You're not pissed off with me anymore?"

"No."

"Okay."

And there... Again, you found yourself ending the night with Obanai walking you home in silence. Yes, it was awkward, but for some reason, it felt a bit warm. And you kind of felt happy.

Yes, he's your professor, but for this night, he made you feel like a normal girl. And yes, it is special, as you haven't felt that in a long while.

Actually... you have been feeling this for a while. Wanting his attention and care so bad and you didn't know when it started. It just sparked again after he lent you the notebook.

But you know you shouldn't feel this so, you forced yourself to stop. And you'll do it again this time.

On the other hand, Obanai found himself slithering back to the pub, letting his loneliness get a hold of him. Yes. He's lonely. And yes, he regretted what he just did. Just because you reminded him of something so important before doesn't mean that he should be as vulnerable as at that time.

You're his student. And yes, he reminded himself of that. You're just his student now. And it should stay that way.

Days have passed, and here we go again. As if that night never happened, Iguro didn't talk to you that way again. It kind of hurts because even if you wanted to hide your feelings so bad, you still wanted him to look at you and speak to you, the same way as that night.

But you have no choice. Even if you had the urge to bring up how confused you are, you didn't. You can't speak to him that way again. Like what you said that night, he is your professor and you cannot hide that fact.

So, you just did your best in his class, trying your best to focus on your promise with Shinobu, trying to fix all your mess.

Little did you know, but the chemistry professor has noticed how you've changed since the day he lent you those notes. You've turned the tables, as if suddenly you were his star student.

He had grown fond of seeing you answer his questions correctly. Especially when you started leading chemistry projects and stuff.

And beneath those observations, Obanai can't help but also adore how beautiful your confidence looks on you. Yes, he was dying to talk to you. But he can't bring himself to do so. He just can't say it but there's tonnes of things that he had been wanting to tell you.

"Iguro-sensei. Thank you for this notebook. I've finished studying them all, and it helped me a lot. I will return it to you now. Sorry if it took me too long to do so."

Obanai was astounded by your voice and presence. He looked up at you with an empty stare and simply nodded. After putting the notebook on the desk, you were about to go when, suddenly, Iguro spoke up in a soft tone.

"No worries. You actually started to do well."

With his words, your face lightened. Feeling your heartbeat race, you fought the urge to smile as you knew that things would not end with him praising you. You still need to pass the class. You need to make Shinobu proud, even if she's gone.

But then, cutting off those thoughts, Obanai stood up from his seat and walked in front of you. You were astounded by the sudden closeness, but of course, you didn't move.

The chemistry professor's heterochromatic eyes pierced within your soul, forcing you to look away. Heat crept up on your face, and you felt that the atmosphere had become a bit more intense.

A sudden, foolish thought had managed to escape from the cages of your mind.

Is Iguro-sensei going to kiss me?

Yes. Rising again from deep within your frustrations on his subject and the pain that it causes you is this feeling. And it is slowly burning you into ashes.

That's why it hurts more when he tells you you're not good enough. That's why you didn't get angry at him when he did so. That's why you hated those people who spoke badly of him.

That's why you wanted his attention again like that night when he made you feel like a normal girl.

Yes, Iguro can be so difficult, but he somehow brings this comfort to you. You have no idea why, but it's like you've known him forever, and you've been longing for his presence.

He feels familiar, but he also does not.

Obanai's hand felt warm on your cheek. The chemistry professor suddenly found the courage to caress your cheek, which made you blush. But then, his next words killed those flusters in just a blink of an eye, rubbing salt on your scars.

"You did well, Y/N-san. Keep it up, okay? You'll make Shinobu proud."

Those words. That name.

You almost found yourself shutting down. Now, all you can think of is: How did he know her? And if he has known her for a long time, why is he just telling you this now?

Turning to look at him with wide eyes, you've witnessed how Obanai took off his face mask. Yes, this is the first time you've seen him without that.

And yes, for the very first time, he looked so familiar that seeing his face now brought back your old memories from the foster home to haunt you.

Flashback:

"Shinobu-san, who's that boy with Mitsuri-san? Is he new here?"

"Oh, I don't know his name but yes, he's new. Don't approach him, though. He seems to be afraid of girls. I don't know why, though."

"Afraid? That's weird. He seems to be okay with Mitsuri."

"I know, right. Enough questions. Let's just study inside. Ne-chan told me that you'll be a Kocho soon! So you'll need to learn lots about science!"

"Hey. That snake will bite if you hold it that way."

"Oh! Sorry— Um, you're Mitsuri-san's friend, right? You're not afraid of me?"

"Oh..."

"Anyway, don't hold it like that. Aren't you afraid of it?"

"No..."

"Hey! Why are you playing with a snake?!"

"Oi Shinobu-san! Mitsuri's friend was—Oh, where is he?"

"Huh? That boy? He's not supposed to be here... Perhaps he ran away. I heard he had been adopted. But you know what? Let's just go inside. Leave that snake alone."

"Shinobu-san! I know that guy..."

"Yep. He's that kid from before. He's all grown up too. I guess, we'll be co-workers now? He'll be volunteering here as well to teach science with me. Anyways, Mitsuri's also here, she'll be teaching art. You should meet with her soon!"

End of Flashback

"Iguro-san? Y-you look... familiar..."

"Yes. You've met me and Kaburamaru before."

"You are kidding right? You can't be that boy from the foster home. Mitsuri-san's friend? My sister's co-worker? You died... You're already dead... Like them..."

It seems like your words have stunned Iguro. Regret started to paint on his face as he looked away from your wondering expression.

But here you are now. Answers. You need answers. If he had known you all this time, he must have known the trauma that you experienced when you saw the foster home getting burned with Shinobu, Mitsuri, and that unknown lad, who is apparently him, as they tried to save the children that they had been teaching science four years ago.

Why is he here now?

You shove Obanai away and glared at him. "This must have been a sick joke, sensei. You can't be that boy with my sister... No one has escaped that fire that night."

"I did, and I'm sorry I wasn't able to save your sister and Mitsuri."

"It's all too much for me now. Can I go?"

Tears suddenly escaped your wide eyes, and there, Obanai felt his chest tighten. He had expected you to react this way, but no matter how he practiced it, he could never prepare himself for the real thing.

Just like how he wasn't prepared to see his first love get burned to ashes before.

"Y/N, I'm sorry." Obanai tried to touch you, but then you swatted his hand away and gave him a glare.

Your passion turned to anger as you felt betrayed. All you can think of is why. He should have been honest. What other things is he hiding from you, then?

"Y/N, I never knew at first that you were Shinobu's sister. I heard she has siblings, but I didn't even know who they were. I and your sister barely had any encounters before except when we were teaching the kids at the foster home. How could I know?"

You didn't speak. You wanted to hear more.

"I mean, it just dawned on me when you told me about your memory back when you were 5. That's the only time I managed to fit in the pieces."

"What do you mean?"

"You're that little girl I saw when I was 12. The girl whom Kaburamaru almost bit. You had Shinobu's surname, so you got adopted by them. So that's also why you were gone when I came back to visit. Y/N... You were here with me all the time. It was all late when I realised it."

"Then why didn't you say anything?"

Obanai's eyebrows creased in frustration. "What should I say then? 'Hi, I'm Obanai, the boy from the foster home who also didn't manage to save your sister from the fire. How are you?'"

Sarcasm was obvious in his tone, which offended you a bit, so you decided to just leave. Perhaps this conversation shouldn't be happening right now. You want to move on. You're moving on, for goodness sake!

And now you're back to square one again.

𝓘 𝓴𝓷𝓸𝔀 𝓲𝓽'𝓼 𝓺𝓾𝓲𝓽𝓮 𝓱𝓮𝓪𝓿𝔂 𝓯𝓸𝓻 𝓷𝓸𝔀 𝓠𝔀𝓠

But I swear, it'll be sweeter soon!

And yes, this will be in two-chapters as it is too long and too heavy than I anticipated XD

So see you soon on the next chapter!

Feel free to reblog, comment, and send a request! Will appreciate that my loves~

Wuvyouuuu! Just be on the lookout to our next series and of course, the ending of 𝐁𝐚𝐜𝐤 𝐭𝐨 𝐘𝐨𝐮!

MDNI!

Ja ne~

~𝓒𝓱𝓲𝓱𝓪𝓻𝓾-𝓬𝓱𝓪𝓷🌸

𝐍𝐞𝐱𝐭 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫>

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magics-neptunes-things · 4 months

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Hand On You (Woso Prompt)

22. I won't let anyone lay an hand on you with Laia Aleixandri.

This one is short, but enjoy :)

TW : Angst, Creepy guy.

______________________________________________________________

It’s only when the library supervisor asks you to leave that you realize what time it is. You are in full preparation for your exams and you haven't seen the hours passed, which is rather embarrassing since you are supposed to go home with public transport and you hate it, especially at night.

After you gather your things, you get your coat and find the fresh air of Manchester. The good news is that it wakes you up a little, after spending so much time locked up it feels good to breath some fresh air. Your apartment being far away, you have to take two different buses. Luckily the first one arrives quite quickly and you manage to find a free place at the bottom.

A few stops later, a man comes to sit next to you, which is not strange considering that it's public transport. What is a little more strange is that you feel his look on you and that he absolutely doesn't hide it.

When you apologize to him for letting you through so you can get down, his smile gives you chills. You swallow and hurry to reach the exit door of the bus, finding with relief the fresh air. But your relief doesn't last long since you realize while standing in front of the stop for your correspondence that it also came down.

He's looking everywhere, upset and evil. It doesn’t take you long to understand that what he’s looking for is you.

Luckily, he didn’t see you. And for it to continue this way, you move quickly to hide behind the bus shelter, hoping he will quickly drop the case. In your maneuver, you shoved a young woman a little too abruptly.

"I’m sorry" you mumble a low-pitched apology.

You don’t hear her answer though, preferring to look over your shoulder to see if you’ve been spotted. You feel the panic seizing you when you notice that the man has disappeared and you expect to see him reappear at any time at your side.

"Hello?" says the brunette you shoved earlier, drawing your attention back to her. "All right?"

"Yes, I-"

But you shut up suddenly, eyes wide open with terror. The face of the man is only ten meters away from you and he saw you. His predatory smile gives you shivers again. One of the two young women in the trio of people who are together follows your gaze.

"Do you know him?"

"No. I think he’s following me."

The three young people react quickly and it takes you out of your torpor. The brunette and the man, also with brown hair, turn in the direction of the man who is making his way towards you, while the blonde passes her arm around your shoulders to train you a little further.

"Everything will be fine" she assures you with an accent you can’t recognize. "My name is Laia, and the others are Leila and Moise"

Laia makes you sit on the bus shelter bench, glued against the ads, which makes you see nothing at the scene that takes place a few meters from you.

"Maybe I’m getting the wrong idea, but he was really weird"

You hope you’re not provoking a fight or argument for nothing. But the blonde is smiling nicely.

"If you didn’t feel safe, it’s enough to ask for help"

You look up at her and give her a little smile, grateful for her understanding. When she leans slightly to see beyond the bus shelter, you hurry to question her.

"Is everything alright?"

"Yes, don’t worry. I won't let anyone lay an hand on you."

#woso imagine #woso x reader #woso one shot #woso fanfics #laia aleixandri x reader #laia aleixandri imagine #laia aleixandri

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judysxnd · 1 year

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Proofs that Pedro Pascal and Y/n Y/l/n are dating (part 2)

I think I could do this every week, like a series, I like the idea! But actually doing it, is something different, especially because I tend to lose it at some point and forget to publish or I don’t have time 🤷🏻‍♀️ also, if you have any ideas for those, because I am already running out of them but I like doing them.. so, I’m open! And for the last pic, I feel like he would do this face like a shocked face but funny, I don’t really know how to explain it 😂

———————————————————————————

1) 12.04.2023, 3:57pm

A fan posted a video on Instagram. First we could see a woman, laughing with another person, another woman we assume. They were in a car. We can hear off camera “is that him?”, the other woman says yes, then turns the camera. Next to her car, there he was, Pedro. They were actually at a red light. He was driving. He did not see the women next to him yet. In the video, we could see another person next to him, but we don’t know who (yet). Then this person moves their position, lightly turning to the left, that’s when we see that it is actually Y/n Y/l/n, and that’s when she notices the woman filming them. At that moment, we could see that Pedro leaned a little towards y/n, but she pointed to the ladies before he could go further, which made him turn. He waved at them, but were quickly interrupted by a car honking at them. The light turned green. The video shows the car leaving. One woman said “what was he doing?” The other said “was he about to kiss her?”, then the video ends.

2) 14.04.2023, around 4pm

Pedro and y/n were seen leaving the gym together. Walking next to each other they were laughing a lot. Y/n was wearing a yellow sports bra and a dark grey short, holding a water bottle. Pedro was in shorts too and wearing his famous yellow lakers shirt, his shorts were also grey. They surprisingly had matching outfits.

3) 15.04.2023, 2:36am

Y/n posted a video on her story. She was in a club. The video started with her in a crowd, dancing. Next to her was a friend, coming to kiss her cheek for the video. Right behind y/n, a familiar face, Pedro Pascal. He absolutely did not see that y/n was making a video and was enjoying himself, dancing a little but mostly drinking his cocktail. Then y/n turned towards Pedro and said “say hi!”. As he didn’t hear her, he screamed “what?” Then looked at her phone. She came very close to him, whispering the same sentence to his ear. Then he came closer to the phone, looked straight at the camera, and said hi, and waved. “Who is it for?” He asked her. “I’m posting it on Instagram!” They looked at each other. He was giving her a look that said “that is not a good idea” and she gave him a look that said “I know but I’ll do it anyway”, then the video stopped as they were laughing.

4) 17.04.2023, 10am (ish)

Pedro and y/n were seeing grocery shopping together. Some fans posted pictures during the day, with the two of them together (and the fan of course). One fan stated that they saw Pedro kiss y/n’s forehead but there were no pictures nor videos.

5) 19.04.2023, 6:13pm

Pedro posted a video on his Instagram story. First we could see him, and we could see he was in a car, but not driving. Then, he turned the camera to his legs, and we could see a hand on his thigh. He moved the camera towards the driver, and it was y/n, looking ahead. When she saw that he was filming, she took her hand away, and put it in front of her mouth, pretending to be shocked. Then she smiled, her eyes switching from the road to the phone. Then Pedro turned the camera back to his face, making a weird shocking face before laughing. We could hear y/n laughing too. Then the video ended. Y/n reposted it on her story later too, adding : “got to give attention to my passenger princess”

#cute #i love him #fanfic #gif #imagine #pedro pascal #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal x reader #oneshot #pedro pascal imagine #pedro pascal x you #pedro pascal preferences #pedro pascal x y/n #pedro pascal one shot

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yelenasdiary · 1 year

Text

21 Questions || Attention to Detail

Pairing: FBI! Wanda Maximoff x Mafia Boss! Reader

Summary: Agent Maximoff has always been great at her job and reading people. After solving a rather difficult case with co-worker, Agent Romanoff, Wanda took a vacation to Greece, where she met Y/n, who was also taking a vacation from work. A little fun never hurt anybody, right?

Top! Wanda, Bottom! Reader, Mommy Kink, Reader has a penis, protected sex, oral (both receiving), slight degradation.

Notes: Flashbacks and/or memories are italic & have “~” before and after.

AC: Just want to give a H U G E thank you to @daddynattt for helping me with this chapter, you can all thank her for Wanda giving you mind blowing (literally) head.

21 Questions Masterlist

"Sorry about that" you smiled as you entered the meeting room and took a seat at the end of the table. You tried to keep your eyes from staring a little too long at the agent you thought was a high school teacher. "A-are you sure it's him?" you asked, looking at agent Romanoff. The red head nodded while she took in your body language, "we understand you were young when he went missing but we'd like to ask you a few questions. Anything you can remember about him can help the investigation" she explained.

"Investigation?" you frowned, "he was murdered?"

"Yes, we're sorry. We are still determining cause of death but from the skeletal remains, it was very clear he was murdered" Natasha replied in a soft but caring tone.

"I'm sorry, skeletal? I haven't seen my father since I was 14, not a single word and now you're telling me he's dead and he's a skeleton"

"We understand this is a difficult time right now and we're sorry that we don't have a lot of news to tell you. Once we know more, you will be the first to know" Wanda inserted herself. You looked at her for a brief moment and nodded, "well, if there anything I can to help. What can I tell you?" you asked, now looking between the two women.

"We will try to make this as easy as possible" Natasha replied as she took out her note pad. You felt the burning of Wanda's stare, it was clear to you that she hadn't told her co-worker that she knew you. "Do you remember the last time you saw your father?" Natasha asked, her pen ready to dot down any words that would leave your lips.

You took a deep breath in as you thought back to the last time you saw your father, not a pleasant memory but it was all that came to mind. "Uhm, I had just gotten home from school and he was arguing with somebody over the phone. I remember going straight to the kitchen to grab a snack. We had a personal chef at the time so I spent some time in kitchen waiting" you explained, your eyes dropped to the glass of water in front of you that Kate had kindly left.

"Do you know who he was on the phone too or what the argument was about?" Wanda asked, leaning forward slightly.

"It was always about money. He never really seemed to have time for me, or my mother for that matter. So I guess, growing up I learnt to ignore the arguing that came from his office but I always knew it was about money or business. I don't know if he was talking this person, but he said the name Arthur very aggressively before he hung up"

"That's great, names are good. Uh, I'm sorry to bring this up but your mother, she passed away in a very short time before your father went missing. How was he dealing with that?" Agent Romanoff questioned as she finished writing a sentence on her note pad. Wanda noticed the way you slowly looked up at Natasha, slightly chewing on your bottom lip from the inside and how you shifted slightly in your seat.

"I don't know" you replied, looking directly at Natasha. "He never showed any sort of grief from what I can remember" you added. Wanda saw how uncomfortable you seemed on the topic of your mother; you reached for your glass of water and took a sip as agent Romanoff took more notes on your answer. "Before your father went missing, he had some issues with Senator Benjamin Arthur and again, we understand you were young at the time but if there is anything you can remember about anybody hanging around the house or maybe you were approached by a stranger? Anything can help a lot" Natasha asked as she looked up at you.

Your eyes looked between the agents once more before you shook your head, "I'm sorry, I don't remember anything. My father's business was exactly that, his business. I went to school, I came home, I did my homework and if he was having a good day, we'd go get pancakes or ice cream before dinner. He barely ever treated me like his child and when he did" you paused and let your eyes drop to a spot on the table in front of you. Silence filled the room for a moment as you gathered your thoughts, both agents trained to watch your body language and anything that might seem a little odd to them. "When he did, it was one of the best days I'd have in a while" you finally spoke, slowly looking up at the two women.

"Thank you for your time, Y/n. We'll let you have some space but please, if there is anything that comes to mind about your father that may be helpful, here are our cards. Call us anytime" Natasha replied with a soft but warm smile as she handed you her card with her details on it, Wanda slid hers across to you before both agents stood them their seats. "I'll be sure to let you know, thank you for coming up. I'm sorry if I wasn't much help" you replied as you also stood from your seat, "Kate will escort you out" you added giving them a light smile before sending Kate a slight nod through the glass window.

You watched as the agents were led to the elevator before you made your way back to your office where Kate shortly ended, closing the door behind her. "Everything okay?" she asked, seeing the troubling look on your face as you downed a mouthful of whisky, almost slamming your glass on your desk.

"They found him" you looked up at your best friend.

"Are you sure?" Kate walked up to the two leather seats in front of your desk, making herself comfortable as you began to pour you both a glass, sliding it to her, nodding. "They're investigating" you muttered before downing your drink once more.

"Shit" Kate gasps before she sips her drink, "are you okay?" she asked.

"Can you lock up this evening? There's something I need to do, I need to talk to Pa, I need to tell him" You replied. Kate shook her head, "of course, anything you need I'm here"

With Kate's word, you gathered your things and gave her a hug before leaving. You dreaded telling your grandfather that his only son was finally found after 13 years, although you always suspected he knew that your father was either dead or never returning. As for you, you weren't sure how to feel. Part of you felt relief, closure even but another part of you felt anger, sadness.

----

Wanda and Natasha returned to their office, both debriefing the crime scene and the notes Natasha took from your answers. New evidence and test results had come back in their absence, fingerprints from the set of keys belonged to the Senator, Benjamin Arthur and forensics were able to find the rest of your father's skull.

Before going to pay to the now retired Senator, Benjamin, Natasha and Wanda spent most of the afternoon looking over the crime scene photos, evidence and taking a fresh, closer look at the old evidence and case file.

"We have to question Sergei's father, Pavel. He was the last one to see Sergei alive" Natasha breaks the deep silence between the two. Wanda ran her fingers through her hair as she looked up at her co-worker and nodded. Her mind unable to shake you as she tried to process the shook of seeing you. "Yeah, I agree. Tomorrow we'll go see Benjamin" she replied, closing the case file in front of her.

--Later That Evening—

Music from your playlist played softly in the background as you checked the roast dinner you were making, tossing the vegetables to ensure they were cooking all the way through. A soft knock at your door made you pause the current song, and placing the roast back in the oven, wiping your hands on your apron before answering the door.

"Agent Maximoff, this is a surprise" you greeted the woman.

"We need to talk" she replied, sternly.

"You're just in time, dinner isn't too far off" you open your door wider for the agent to enter your home. She walked in slowly, the smell of your dinner welcoming her better than you had. "Can I get you a drink?" you asked, walking ahead of her and returning back to the kitchen.

"I'm not here as friend" Wanda replied, watching you tidy up the island in front of you. "We have to talk about Gr-"

"No" you looked up at her and shook your head, "We'll talk about it over dinner. You owe me that much" you added, not breaking eye contact. A moment of silence was shared between the two of you before Wanda gave you a light nod, "okay. Dinner that is all"

"Just dinner" you turned on your heels, grabbing a clean glass from the cupboard, "A drink?" you asked.

"Water will be fine, thank you" Wanda's eyes traveled around your kitchen, allowing herself to take in the way your home looked. If the situation were different, she would've complemented your taste in art and the beautiful red oak kitchen island that was littered with the mess of your cooking. She watched as you handed her a glass of water before returning your attention to the vegetables that were on the stove.

"You can take your coat off if you'd like" you spoke, feeling her eyes watching you.

"I'm fine" Wanda replied before taking a mouthful of water. You grabbed two plates and some cutlery before turning around to face the agent, you smiled softly. "Another ten minutes and it should be ready, I'll just set the table. Do you want a tour?" you asked.

Wanda shook her head lightly, "I just came here to talk. The quicker we can do that, the quicker we can move forward"

"What is there to move forward from, tell me" You walked by her, placing the plates on the table. Wanda followed behind you, "you know exactly what I'm talking about" she replied as you pulled a chair out for her.

"You'll have to refresh my mind, I just had some terrible news today, so things aren't exactly great"

"So, it was terrible" Wanda raised a brow, pulling out the other chair and taking a seat.

"My father was found, dead and confirmed to have been murdered. I'm not exactly cheerful about it"

"You had me fooled" Wanda looked up at you, her eyes followed you as you returned to the kitchen, turning off the oven and stove. "My father wasn't the best man so forgive me for not being overly hysterical about it" you looked across the room to her, "besides, your off duty, right? Let's not talk about my father. Would you like gravy?" you added. The woman nodded, brushing your comment off.

Silence once again filled the room as you dished up the roaster dinner, kindly placing the food in the center of the table for you both to help yourselves before taking a seat across from Wanda. "It looks lovely, thank you" Wanda broke the silence, she was never raised to have bad table manners and not that she wanted to truly let you know but she hadn't eaten all day and the smell of the feed you made only made her more hungry, grateful that you forced her to stay for dinner.

"You have a fancy role for a high school teacher"

"How was I supposed to know that I'd come and see you? You were just a stranger in a bar that" she stopped herself some saying anything more.

"That what? Had sex with?" You finished her sentence, her eyes dropped to the plate of food in front of her, tossing a carrot back and forth with her fork. "I didn't mean it like that" she replied, "my co-worker, agent Romanoff, she can't know. Nobody can. I know we slept together before all of this, but they won't see it like that. I should've told my boss the moment I saw you that I shouldn't be working your father's case."

"Then why didn't you?" you asked. Wanda slowly looked back up at you, unable to answer. "You think it about, don't you? That night, you and I" you lent back in your chair while Wanda sat in silence, "tell me it plays on your mind" you added.

"I should go. I'm sorry" Wanda stood from her seat, you quickly did the same and followed the woman to the front door. "Don't go" you gently grabbed her arm, "it's okay" you added when she looked at you once more. She shook her head, "it's unprofessional" she replied softly.

You couldn't help yourself, brushing a lock of her long brown hair gently behind her ear, "I think about it too" you said in an almost whisper, wanting nothing more than to feel your lips on her skin again. "We can't" she stepped back, her back up against your front door. You stepped closer to her, gently placing your hands on her hips, your eyes flickering to her plump lips. "I can't get you off my mind, the things we did, the way you were" you paused, leaning slightly forward until your lips connected with the naked skin of her neck. Without control, Wanda lifted her head up, giving you more access, letting out a soft moan as you kissed up to her jaw.

"Please, I need you" you whispered, kissing her cheek before pausing your movements to look at her lips, "nobody has to know, I promise" you added. Her lips never looked more kissable then right now, running her tongue over them as she brought her hands up to your face, cupping you gently. "Nobody" she repeated, you nodded, "not a soul" you assured her before crashing your lips onto hers.

Wanda kissed you back with hunger, filling your mouth with her tongue while you lifted her up, allowing her to wrap her legs around your waist, never breaking the deep kiss as you carried her to your bedroom.

"You're so sweet darling" Wanda smiled against your lips as you laid her gently on your bed before she flipped the two of you over, straddling your waist while looking down at you. "Do you always think you're in control?" she asked, chewing at her bottom lip. Her hands running down your clothed chest, smirking at you before she ripped your shirt open. You shook your head, "use your words, tell me. Do you always think you're in control?" she asked you once more as she began to unbutton her shirt, one by one.

"No" you replied, watching the way her hands moved quickly from button to button. "Yes, what?" she frowned before pulling her work shirt off and throwing it to the floor then unclasping her bra. "No, mommy" you smirked when she looked at you once more. When she looked into your eyes, she completely forgot how unprofessional and wrong this was, but the memories of how she had you eating out of the palm of her hand in Greece were enough to keep the guilt from flushing in.

Wanda smiled softly as she crawled off you and completely removed her pants along with her panties, throwing them both on top of her shirt before crawling back on top of you, undoing the belt from your waist. "Hands out" she looked up at you with a light smirk. She didn't need to ask twice; you placed your hands out in front of you ready for Wanda to use your belt to tie your wrists together. "Keep them above your head, can you do that for mommy?" she asked, placing your wrists above your head as you nodded, "yes mommy, just want to be your good girl" you replied while she hoovered above you.

"Oh, baby, you're such a good girl for me" she kissed your lips softly, "mommy is going to use this pretty mouth of yours and you're going to keep those hands still, no touching. Do you understand?" She leant back, straddling your waist once more, waiting for your answer.

"Just wanna please you mommy, I'll be good" you replied, completely breaking for her. Not even assumed to show this woman who you barely knew, a whole side of you that nobody else ever saw.

"That's a good girl" Wanda smiled before moving up your body, her legs resting on either side of your face giving you the perfect view of her glistening pussy. Her warm scent made you crave her even more than before, you watched as she lowered herself on your lips, letting out a moan as you began to twirl your tongue around her clit. "That's right baby, show mommy how good you want to be for her, let mommy cum all over your tongue" her words were muffled as you continued to eat her out.

Every now and then dipping your tongue into her hole just to hear her moan, to feel her grip on your hair tighten. "Mm, baby, you're going to make mommy cum, keep going!" she moaned before she began to ride your face, her free hand toying with her hardened nipples while her other hand stayed running through your hair for support. With every moan, Wanda moved faster, grinding against your tongue, pinching her nipples harder, gripping your hair tighter as her moans got louder. "F-fuck baby, I'm cumming!" she moaned once more before letting her orgasm take its cause.

That didn't stop you, you continued to lap at her wet folds until she removed herself from your lips. "Somebody was hungry" she smirked before kissing your cum covered lips, cleaning herself off of them before biting your bottom lip. "Mommy, please, m' so hard" you looked at her. Your cock begging to be released from your boxers as your bulge had grown bigger by the second.

"Awh, baby, is this all for me?" Wanda bit her bottom lip as she sat beside you, running her hand up your leg and brushing over your bulge. You nodded with need, "only you get me this hard" you admitted as you heard her unzip your flyer. "Since you were so good for mommy, how about I give you a little treat, mm? Mommy will make it all better" Wanda replied before helping herself to remove your pants and pulling your boxers down passed your knees, letting your cock spring free.

You kept your hands above your head and watched as Wanda grabbed your length with one hand, a soft moan left your lips at her touch. She teasingly stroked you while looking up at you, your eyes closed as you grew harder at her touch. "Do you want mommy to suck you off? Wanna feel my mouth wrapped around your cock?" You couldn't stop the needy whimper from tumbling out of your mouth, nodding your head yes as you opened your eyes to see her making her way onto her knees in front of you. "Please mommy! I want your mouth" Wanda smirks at the neediness of your tone, she's got you right where she wants you.

"Shh, mommy will take care of you, stay still and look pretty while I make you feel good"

Your body instantly jerks as you feel her mouth wrap itself around your tip, your pre-cum causing Wanda to moan around you making you let out a moan as well. The feel of her warm mouth feels like heaven, it feels like nothing you have ever felt before, and you're scared that you may not last too long.

"Fuck.. your mouth feels so good" she takes her time, teasing you as she softly sucks on your tip while looking up at you with hungry eyes. "Mommy please.." She smiles around you and slowly takes you deeper, moving her mouth lower while maintaining eye contact with you, your eyes rolling to the back of your head.

"Oh God.. I'm not sure how much longer I can last" You are surprised at how well she can take you, you are not small by any means. Being 9 inches long and pretty girthy, you're shocked as she takes you deeper and deeper, desperate and needy moans coming out of your mouth as she takes all of you, her nose hitting your abdomen. The sounds of her gagging around your cock sends chills up your spine, and you're about to cum down her throat.

"Fuck! Mommy.. I-I'm gonna cum" you feel her hands sliding up and down your bare thighs, encouraging you to let go into her mouth as she stays there with your cock shoved down her throat. You grab onto her head with tied together hands, moaning loudly as you keep her head in place as you release into her mouth, spurts of cum shooting down her throat. She rides out your orgasm, greedily swallowing everything you give her, the taste of your cum causing her to moan.

"Just as sweet as last time" Wanda looked up at you before crawling on top, straddling your waist, "and a little more than I remember, have you been having trouble baby?" she asks, giving you a moment to gather yourself. You nodded softly with embarrassment causing her to chuckle, "it's not funny" you groaned.

"Since we last, you know" you paused for a moment as Wanda brushed your baby hairs from your face, "go on darling, tell me." She whispered, sending another shiver down your spine. "I haven't been able to stop thinking about you, and it causes problems" you look at her, "problems only you can fix"

"Well, let's stop the chit chat and fix all those problems you've been having" Wanda smirked before pressing her lips against yours. A faint taste of your cum made you moan softly, remembering just moments ago how well the agent took you. Her hands reached to unbuckle your belt from your wrists, "protection?" she asked. You nodded and waited for your wrists to become free before opening your bedside drawer to grab a condom.

Without hesitation, Wanda grabbed the wrapper from you and ripped it open with her teeth. She ran her tongue over her bottom lip while keeping eye contact with you as she so effortlessly rolled the condom onto your dick. "Why'd you lie?" you asked, out of curiosity, Wanda shook her head and hushed you with a hungry kiss, biting your bottom lip as she pulled away.

Her lips kept you distracted while her hands worked on guiding you inside her, she moaned as you stretched her out, kissing you once more as she allowed her body to sink onto you until you bottomed out inside her. "I think about you" she whispered against your lips as you moaned softly at the slight moments over her hips. "I knew it" you smirked before you placed your hands on her hips, Wanda moaned once more as she sped up her actions, riding you just like she did in Greece.

"F-fuck I've craved this!" she moaned, throwing her head back while her hands landed on top of yours, forcing you to make her ride you harder. "Go on baby, show me how you need it" she spoke, "just this once" she added.

You felt like you were above the clouds, buried deep inside her like you'd been craving since you left her hotel room that afternoon. With a bit of force, you helped her grind harder against you, her moans made you believe you were going something good until she chuckled. "You're weak baby" she removed your hands, "I'll do it myself" she added before she began to bounce up and down on your length, you gasped at the way her pussy clenched around you, making it almost impossible to keep yourself from cumming too soon.

"M-mommy, slow down! I'm not going to last" you moaned, your fists gripping the bedsheets until your knuckles went white. "Cum for me baby, I'm not done with yet! Cum with me!" Wanda moaned before you felt her pussy milk you for every last drop the condom caught. In the heat of the moment, you didn't care about anything but making sure her pleasure was dragged out, sitting up, you wrapped your arms around her and began to thrust your hips into her while your lips connected with her neck.

"Oh f-fuck!" she moaned, her nails scratching at your back, "keep going baby, don't you dare fucking stop!" she added while digging her nails into you harder.

----

"You asked me why I lied" Wanda spoke softly as she pulled apart the small bread roll on her plate. You almost too distracted by her wearing one of your oversized tees as the two of you finally got around to the roast dinner you made hours ago. "Would you have still spoken to me that night if I told you I worked for the FBI?" she added, looking at you with her big green eyes that you now were able to really admire.

"Yes" you replied in a soft tone and a light nod.

"You're lying, again" Wanda's eyes dropped to the roasted pork between the two of you. "Would you have spoken to me if I said that I noticed you days before I came up to you at the bar?" you asked her, your eyes not moving an inch as she slowly looked up at you. "I had a drink at the bar every night, came in two days before and had dinner. I remember the way your eyes looked in the shitty lighting, almost like they were the brightest thing in the room. I wanted to talk to you right then and there, but you looked so peaceful with your book, I didn't want to interrupt you. But when you came in that night and sat at the bar by yourself, I wasn't going to let another moment slide. So, yes, I would've still spoke to you if you had of been honest" you explained.

A moment of silence was shared between you both, it was awkward or anything as such but you could tell Wanda was trying to keep her guard up and not allow herself to peel a layer of herself back for you.

"Did you know green diamonds exist?" you asked, breaking the silence. Wanda shook her head, "aren't they like altered to look green?" she questions causing you to chuckle. "No, they are do exist and they are so rare that less than ten get sold a year. I've only ever seen 1. I thought it was the most beautiful thing I'd ever see and I don't want to sound cheesy but that diamond doesn't come near as close to you"

Wanda smiled ever so softly that quickly dropped after a moment, "if things were different, I'd be different, but I can't, I'm sorry. You're really, really sweet and we've had fun, but we really can't do this" you could hear the disappointment in her voice even though she tried her best to hide it. "I need to know that you can act like we're never met. When we find out who killed your father, you'll never see me again, do you understand?"

You couldn't help but sigh, "never met you, never slept with you. Got it" your eyes dropped slightly. Wanda stood up from her seat, "I get changed and go, t-thank you for –"

"It's fine. Take your time" you replied before watching her wander back to your bedroom. While Wanda changed into her original clothes, you tidied the kitchen and dining room. "We'll be touch. We spoke to your grandfather today, again, I'm sorry" Wanda's voice entered the kitchen as you turned to face her, giving her a nod, letting the room fill with silence again as Wanda let herself out.

Once your front door closed, you reached for your phone, texting Kate.

"We need to talk. Come over, now."

#wanda maximoff #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff smut #natahsa romanoff #natasha romanoff x reader #fanfiction #21 questionsau #marvel

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wosowrites · 1 year

Text

They Know (Vivianne Miedema x Reader)

Warnings: ⚠️sexual topics⚠️

A/N: More of a ficlet tbh. also let’s pretend viv isn’t an @cl victim rn

Prompt: In which your teammates say something to you and viv that takes you both by surprise

You had just finished playing a game in which Arsenal had won 3-0 against Manchester City. You had officially scored your first hat trick for the club. You had been at Arsenal for seven months now, having made friendships that you knew would last forever. You had gotten especially close with Leah Williamson, Rafaelle Souza, Katie McCabe, and the one and only, Vivianne Miedema.

You walked into the changing room last, most of the team already sitting in the room. Jonas had held you back, telling you that the media wanted a quick interview. You had obliged, but by the time you were back in the changing room, Jonas still wasn’t back. "Hey! There’s the magician!" Leah said, walking up to you and grabbing your face, pressing her forehead to yours and smiling at you wildly. "Thanks, Lee Lee,"you laughed, using the nickname you knew she hated. "I’ll let it slide this time, y/l/n," Leah said, regaining her cubby. The next person to congratulate you, was your secret situationship. You guys weren’t anything specific, just having a little fun. But you knew you wanted more. You wanted her.

Viv high fived you, giving you eyes you both thought no one else would notice. "Oh please, i can’t take it anymore! you guys are high fiving each other as though you haven’t been fucking for like, three months." Katie said.

It was needless to say that Katie’s words sent a shockwave through your body, making you choke and start coughing ridiculously. "Katie, what the hell?" Viv said, a hand on your back as you we’re still doubled over. "Oh come on! I’m saying what everyone’s thinking." Katie said, looking around the room and receiving amused nods from every player. Most of them were obviously trying not to loose it, Gio and Lotte were so red from keeping their laugh in, you thought they were going to pass out.

"Okay, you shits all have two minutes to laugh." You said, glaring at the room.

And thus how the arsenal women’s locker room got louder than it ever was. Most players were crying by the time the two minutes were up. "Are you gonna let us explain now?" Viv asked. "So you’re not denying you’ve been fucking?" Katie asked. "No" Viv said. "Yes." You answered. "Uh oh. Trouble in paradise?" Kim said. "Come on y/n… they know." Viv said, ignoring Kim and looking at you. "Fine. They know. Everyone knows. But how? We were hiding it really well!" You said. "You’re joking? Right?" Manu asked. "Welp. There were three main tellers." She then added.

———

Three months ago.

It was the night after your first hookup, you had both woken up in a slight panic. You barely spoke to each other, trying your best not too look at each others bodies will putting your training gear back on. You slipped on a pair of shorts and your training jersey, and then mumbled something to Viv before rushing out the door and driving to training.

"Do we say anything?" Leah whispered to Rafa, eyeing the number 11 written on the short you we’re wearing. "Uhm… I don’t know about you but I don’t want to have that conversation with them." Rafa said, Leah and Rafa’s eyes drifting in sync towards Vivianne who was passing the ball with Beth, a clearly visible number 29 on her shorts. "They’re officially hooking up." Leah said, snickering.

The captain and the brazilian had both made the mistake of telling Katie about the shorts incident, and soon enough, Katie had told everyone. But the rest of the team managed to keep in on the down low, telling Katie that if she uttered a word about it to the dutch forward and the swedish midfielder, that they would get Ruesha involved. That was enough to shut up the irish woman.

———

Two months ago.

The next incident was small, but said so much. Viv’s apartment had the most beautiful floor to ceiling windows in the bedroom, letting the light pour into the room every morning. On one particular sunday, when the London sky was the crispest of blues, Vivianne posted a picture of the sky through her windows, and on the bedside table, we’re three rings. It was known to anyone who had ever been around you while you weren’t in your soccer kit, that you loved rings. Your favorite three were silver, a plain thick silver band, a smaller silver band with a heart, and a zig zaggy ring. The exact three rings from the bedside table.

"They’re actually stupid." Rafa said, the entire team but you both huddled around Leah’s phone and watching the story. "They think they’re slick." Leah added.

"What’s up guys?" you said, walking into the changing room with Viv trailing behind.

Leah basically threw her phone across the room, and the whole team disspersed quickly.

"Just-uhm-" Leah stuttered, scurrying over to the far corner to grab her phone from the floor. Luckily for her, Jonas walked in and started talking about what they would be focusing on in training today.

"Saved by the Jonas." Jen whispered to Leah who had taken her seat back at her spot, glaring at the cracked screen on her phone.

———

A week ago

It had been a particularly rainy day at training, and you were all completely soaked. You had all showered, enjoying the warm water immensely. You were the last to walk out of the shower, a sports bra on and your shorts riding low. When you walked into the changing room, everyone subtly looked at Viv, waiting to see her reaction. "Hey Viv, can you throw me my hoodie?" You asked at the entrance. "I took the wrong one." You asked, standing in the doorway.

Viv didn’t answer, just seemingly zoned out on your stomach. "Viv!" Manu said, snapping her fingers in the forwards face. "Mhm! Shirt! Yeah!" She said, grabbing your hoodie and tossing it to you. "Thank you." You said, turning away quickly and hoping no one saw your massive blush.

They all saw the blush, and the way Viv’s eyes traced your stomach when you entered the room, and they all definitely saw her eyes on your ass as you walked out the room.

———

Present day:

The girls had just finished explaining all the reasons why they knew about you and Viv, all of them smiling at you both cheekily.

"I did not give you 'fuck me' eyes" Viv said, turning to you. "Oh you definitely did. You looked like you were trying not to groan every time we changed." Katie teased. "I hate all of you." Viv answered, making you smile at her. "Oh my god! Now y/n’s giving Viv 'fuck me' eyes!" Katie yelled. "I was just smiling at her you leprechaun!" You yelled, throwing your shin pad at her.

#woso fic #woso imagine #woso x reader #woso #arsenal fcw #katie mccabe #leah williamson #vivianne miedema #rafaelle souza #lotte wubben moy

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uvobreakmylegs · 1 month

Text

Burst

the fic I wrote for @hypnoswrites's birthday this year, who asked for a fic with Razor💜💜💜

demon!Razor x reader

Warnings: mentions of execution, mentions of torture, blood, death, gore

Word Count: 7.5k

The thin, sharp point of the sewing needle pierced through the soft cloth effortlessly, the thread attached to the end gliding through the small in the fabric until it snagged to a stop, unable to go any further once it had run out. Adjusting your grip on the cloth, the process was then repeated as you pushed the needle back into the fabric to complete the stitch, the thread gliding through once more. And so it went, stitch after stitch while a sleeve slowly began to form in your hands, the long bit of fabric becoming more recognizable as such when your thread pulled the pieces together in a tight seam.

The art of creating should be one that was satisfying. To take a lifeless piece of fabric and give it shape, give it a form that made it useful should be something that would make the creator proud. Not only that they had the skills to create clothing, but to also see the satisfaction of those who wore it once it was complete. The pay was well, yes, but to see someone happy with the work you had created was an added bonus. To see the happy smiles while they twirled around in your clothing, posing in front of the mirror and offering you words of praise. It was nice to know they appreciated your work, and with that, knowing that you offered something of value. While there would always be difficult and ungrateful customers, the ones that you had made happy were what drove you forward.

There was no satisfaction to be had in your work now.

You felt a bead of sweat beginning to run down your forehead, and you lifted up your arm to wipe it away, staying on constant alert so as to not allow anything to stain the fabric you now held as any imperfection would not be tolerated.

Time was growing short.

Day would come soon, and with it, your execution.

You shuddered as you continued to sew, trying to hurry as you continued to sew up the sleeve that lay in your lap. Sitting on the floor of a cold room at the top of a foreboding tower, there was fabric strewn all over the small area, both cut and uncut, all assembled into particular piles so you wouldn't need to go searching for them once you got to the other dresses.

'Other dresses'.

You bit your lip in frustration, knowing there was no way you'd even get that far.

Hours of work since you had been thrown in here, and there wasn't much to show for it: a bodice with one sleeve attached, another sleeve that was only half-finished and the beginnings of a skirt. Outside of the dress you were working on, the six others only existed as cut up pieces and were in no way presentable. And even with what you did have complete, it didn't account for the detail that the dresses were meant to have. Nor for the fact that you were meant to complete seven immaculate dresses before that door was opened again.

Seven gowns for the lordship's wife and their six daughters, to be made in the finest silks, embroidered and adorned with jewelry, all of which had been stuffed into the space you currently occupied. That was the feat that would save your life.

You knew that it was impossible.

No matter what skill you had when it came to your craft, there was no way for you to be able to complete seven gowns of high quality in the span of a single night. But you thought that perhaps if you were to make at least one of good quality, the lady and her daughters would be entranced enough that they would beg for the lord to spare your life so you could complete the rest. At least for a week. That would be all you needed to complete those gowns to their satisfaction, you were sure of it.

If you were granted that mercy, you could then use the time you had in finishing the other six gowns to earn the favor of those seven women and convince them to let you go free, and in that way, you could avoid the agonizing death of being tied up while the flames burned in a pyre beneath your feet.

But that wouldn't happen if you couldn't complete even one of them. If, when the tower door was opened again, they saw that it was only partially complete, you would be hauled off to the town square and set alight for everyone to see and gawk at.

No, that wouldn't be what happened first.

You had heard of what happened to others who had been accused of witchcraft: they were tortured for hours before their executions, regardless of whether they denied the accusation or not. And when they were brought before the public, they were paraded around so they could be abused further by way of the crowd throwing stones, mud and whatever else was on hand and easy to throw. Only then would the execution begin, a slow, painful process that began with heavy smoke that filled up your lungs and ended by being engulfed in flames.

The thought of all of that terrified you, and as you heard the bells of the church ring out the time of one o'clock in the morning, you were spurred to go faster. As fast as you were able to without your work coming out shoddy, at least.

There was some relief that hit you once the second sleeve was finished and you were able to begin stitching it onto the bodice. Once that part was fully finished, you would be able to continue your work on the skirt, and upon the completion of that, you could add in the details that would entrance the women who held your fate in their hands. Hopefully enough so that your failure to produce seven gowns would be forgiven.

It would be forgiven, you assured yourself. As long as you could complete the one, you could save yourself.

So you continued to toil away as the hour grew later and later.

When the second sleeve was firmly attached to the bodice, you were able to turn your attention to the skirt, continuing where you had left off earlier. Once the skirt was finished and attached to the rest, you would need to add in the detailing, you reminded yourself. The embroidery for the accents, as well as the jewels that were expected to complete the gown. All of that detailed work required time and couldn't be rushed.

Was completing even one possible?

You bit your lip again.

It would be fine, you told yourself. You could do this much.

You continued.

Once the skirt was finished and you began to attach it to the bodice, you heard the church bells ring out twice.

Two in the morning.

Dawn would come at six.

It would be fine. After the skirt was attached, you could spend the remaining four hours adding in the details. That was enough time to make the gown a thing of beauty.

You'd never done it in such a short amount of time but you could do it, you told yourself.

At the risk of your life being lost, you could do anything.

You continued stitching fast while doing your best to keep them from being sloppy, and while you did so, you glanced over to the multitude of threads and jewels that had been placed in here alongside the fabric, going over in your head which ones you would use and what design would work best with this particular gown. While you had time, you wished to get this part of the work done with so you could get to those important details. So you sped up just a little bit more.

Your haste was your undoing.

You stabbed your finger with the needle.

Crying out, you dropped the gown while you pulled your hand away, bringing it up to your face to inspect the damage. Already there was blood dripping down your finger, more than you would've expected. And before you could think to pull your hand away further, a single drop of the red liquid fell from your hand and down onto the gown on your lap.

No no no no no no no-!

The blood droplet landed right in the middle of the sleeve, spreading out as it soaked into the fabric. You jumped to your feet, holding the gown with one hand while you looked for something to use to wash the blood out. It was still salvageable.

Except you only realized now that they hadn't given you any food or water when they locked you in here, and you were so focused on completing your task that it hadn't crossed your mind before.

There was nothing you could do.

No, there needed to be something-!

In a move of panic, you rushed forward as you looked for anything, anything that could save the sleeve.

Your state of panic was so great that you didn't notice when the edge of the gown came far too close to a nearby candle. Only when you heard the fabric igniting followed by the unmistakable smell of smoke did you realize the awful blunder.

You could go up in flames before the morning even came.

The next moments were spent frantically as you beat the flames out of the gown with both hands. The fire was determined to spread quickly and the flames were hot against the aching skin of your palms, but the fire ultimately was put out as quickly as it had started. But that meant very little to you in that moment.

You held up the bottom of the dress, falling to your knees once you saw the extent of the damage. There was no salvaging the skirt; the flames had traveled too far, leaving the fabric burnt and curled on the edges. And what hadn't been affected by the flames had managed to get your blood on it, complementing the sleeve which now had a large red blot marring the center of it. You would need to replace both of them completely.

Hours worth of work now meant nothing, and you would need to start over if you wanted a chance of keeping your life. You let out a shaky breath as you went over in your head all that would need to be redone. Only the bodice and second sleeve were usable. You were back to only having a bodice and a sleeve done, and you would need to redo the other parts. That would take time.

Outside, you heard the church bells ring out three times.

Three in the morning.

Three hours until dawn. Only three hours.

You were doomed.

In that moment, you fell into despair.

You were reduced to a sobbing mess in the middle of that room, realizing that your bid to save yourself had failed. It was too late now to start over. You wouldn't be able to get even that single dress done, and when they opened that door to find you in the middle of your half-finished project that was partially burnt, you would burn as well.

The lord had also told you that if you didn't produce the dresses, the punishment you would receive would be harsher than it would have originally, as he had no desire for you to waste either his time or that of his wife and daughters. All of them would be angry.

The horrors of torture would be worse. The pain would be worse. All of it would be worse.

And with you still trapped in that room with no way of getting past that locked door on your own, you found yourself begging for someone to help you. For someone to appear and take you away from this awful place, to save you from that horrific fate.

Please, you thought to yourself while you cried, clutching the ruined dress up to your face while the blood from your injured finger had finally staunched.

Please let someone save me from this.

I'll do anything

That heroic character who saw the truth of the situation and keep you from harm refused to appear, and you stayed where you were, unable to cease your tears at the hopelessness of everything. You were barely able to note when you heard the rain from the outside begin to hit the roof above you, starting out as a drizzle before becoming stronger, pattering against the tile of the roof.

But after a few moments, you noticed the next change faster: inexplicably, the room became cold. All of the heat that had built up from the many candles was gone, and you were suddenly shivering against the stone floor, your clothes and the fabric beneath you offering little protection.

Immediately recognizing that as strange, you pulled your head back up, wiping away a few stray tears as you looked about, uncertain as to what could have caused the change in temperature to be so drastic.

“Am I right in assuming that the pyre outside is meant for you?”

The male voice that spoke into your ear had you screeching as you scurried forward, crawling away on all fours before you reached the wall and turned to see who had managed to sneak up on you.

It turned out to be a man, one who was currently crouching down next to where you had been sitting moments before. A guard? Given his size and his build, he certainly could have been. But no. Based on the slightly tattered clothing he wore, he didn't look like one of them. At the moment it seemed more likely that the purple-haired man sitting before you was a prisoner like yourself. But he hadn't been in here before. You'd been alone for hours now.

You glanced to the door, expecting to see it open. Yet it was still shut tight, and you got the feeling that if you were to try again to push it open, you would be met with a solid resistance, the wood that made up the door far stronger than yourself.

How had he entered without you noticing?

Your attention was brought back to the man when he spoke to you again, a friendly smile on his face as he asked “well? Am I right?”

Despite your confusion as to how he had suddenly appeared, you decided it would be best to answer the man seeing that you were locked in a room with him. So after staying quiet for a few moments, you nodded.

He hummed.

“You must be accused of something awful, then. People aren't burned for just anything,” the man said, settling down on the floor in a seated position.

Instead of elaborating on why you were to be executed, you asked “who are you? How did you get in? Why are you here?”

He didn't give you the courtesy of an answer to any of your questions; instead he chuckled at you. It certainly felt as though he was amused by your frantic state, and that only had you feeling worse about him.

“Why are you here?!” you repeated.

He motioned for you to shush.

“You should keep your voice down,” he told you, “that guard outside is asleep for now, but that might not be the case for long if you keep going like that.”

There was sense in his words, and you quickly glanced back over to the door, worried at the possibility of any movement behind it. Both you and the mystery man would be in trouble should he be discovered in here with you, and no doubt he would suffer for attempting to help you escape.

…. Was that even what he was here to do?

You looked back to the man, uncertain of what to make of him.

You still couldn't fathom how he had gotten in without either you or the guard outside noticing, and you were at a loss as to why he was here at all. But he was right that you should keep your voice down.

Sensing that you were in a calmer state, he spoke again.

“To start with your first question, my name is Razor,” he said, adding “I don't think the answer to your second question is as interesting as you might expect.”

Razor settled himself further, leaning against the wall as he continued with “as for the third, I'm only here because you called for me.”

Called for….?

You realized what he was speaking of. The desperate plea of yours that was going through your head moments ago. Had you been speaking out loud when you said that? How could he have even heard that?

“You heard that?” you asked.

“Barely,” he answered, “you were lucky. You happened to ask at the right time and I happened to be around.”

Your eyebrows furrowed as you wondered what the time had to do with anything.

Razor continued before you had the chance to ask, saying “now that I've answered those questions of yours, how about you answer mine?”

“… On if the pyre is meant for me?”

“What else?”

You looked down to the floor, your eyes ending up on the burnt and bloody gown that sat between the two of you as you quietly nodded.

“Yes, it's for me.”

“And why is that?” he asked.

“I've been accused of witchcraft.”

He didn't seem all that surprised by your answer. His eyes went to the gown as well before they examined the rest of the materials in the room. At the sight of him glancing around, you noted something: Razor's eyes were unusually dark. No, not just dark. The irises were pitch-black.

Was Razor even human?

The thought was unexpected but the explanation made sense of certain things if true. Such as how he had appeared out of nowhere, or how he could have heard that desperate plea for help – that when you thought about it more, you were certain you hadn't said that aloud. Though the fear from earlier settled into you once more at this realization. How could you be sure that Razor was benevolent?

Spirits and fae were spoken of in whispers and tall tales, and usually done so with no small amount of fear. It was well known that most otherworldly beings didn't care much for the likes of humans, and most stayed away from the places humans had settled into, keeping to their places in nature that humans couldn't get to. And when an unlucky human did come across the path of one of those beings, the story would usually end in tragedy, with that person disappearing completely or their brutalized remains being discovered some time later.

If you disappeared right now no one would care

The depressing thought that came through was unhelpful and you told yourself to stop.

Then came Razor's next question.

“Why were you accused?”

You sat up more, trying to adjust your posture. He didn't comment on it, but you were worried you might have offended him with the way you ran from him earlier.

“A ship sank during a storm,” you told him.

At that, Razor actually seemed puzzled as he asked “a sunken ship? That's what this is about? Surely the people here would be aware that such things are common. What did the survivors say?”

You lowered your head as you said “there were no survivors.”

“None?”

You shook your head.

“There were witnesses who said they saw the crew trying to swim to shore, but that all eventually vanished beneath the water. Some claimed that they saw white hands pulling them under. The accounts of those witnesses led everyone to believe that the sinking was the work of something evil, and then one of the village women came forward to say she saw me orchestrating the whole thing on a hill near the bay.”

“So you're here because you were careless.”

“No!”

You leaned forward on your hands as you exclaimed “I had nothing to do with any of that! I was just as horrified at what happened as anyone else! My only crime was that I watched the ship as it sank. I had no power at all in that situation!”

It was after your outburst that you remembered to keep your voice down, and you slapped a hand over your mouth as you once again looked to the door.

Mercifully, nothing came from it.

“I'm sorry,” you said a moment later.

Luckily for you, he nodded as he said “it's alright. It's quite understandable why you would react that way, given what you're facing.”

How odd that you felt a tiny bit better just from hearing that. It did nothing to change what you were going through, but just that little bit of empathy gave you a small peace of comfort. The words he said next did as well.

“For what it's worth, I believe you,” Razor said.

“Thank you. I appreciate it,” you answered.

“I take it no one else did?”

You shook your head, saying “I only arrived a fortnight ago in search of work. No one here knows me.”

“So you were selected because you were the outsider.”

You nodded.

“Well, that explains what I saw outside,” Razor began. Then he looked about the room as he continued with “but I would like to know what exactly is going on with all of this.”

You sighed.

“A last-ditch effort to save myself,” you answered sadly, explaining as you said “the lord of the castle gave me one night before the execution after I told him I would make his wife and daughters fine gowns in exchange for my freedom.”

“How many?”

“Seven.”

“You set yourself up for failure,” Razor said bluntly.

“I knew that I could never make seven in one night,” you told him, “but I thought that if I could make at least one, they would allow me more time to make the rest, and from there I might secure my freedom.”

Razor said nothing before he looked down at the burnt and bloody dress that lay before him. In particular, he seemed focused on the smears of blood that had marred the fabric, and when he looked back up to you, his gaze went to the finger you had accidentally stabbed with the needle.

“Clearly, that plan failed,” he said.

You hung your head low as you admitted “it probably wasn't going to work at all. Even if I finished that one, it likely wouldn't be acceptable. All of this was just a desperate effort to push off the inevitable for as long as I could.”

Glancing back up at him, you then asked “unless you have some way for all of them to be done by the morning.

Razor gave you a flat look as he said “do I look like I know anything about making dresses?”

“…. I suppose not.”

The cold was beginning to bother you more now, and you wrapped your arms around yourself in an effort to retain some heat. You noted that the rain was coming down harder now, the water striking the roof with more force than the simple drizzle from before. Maybe that would push off your execution, you idly thought. If the wood was too wet to set alight, you might live longer than you anticipated. Though it would likely do nothing to save you from the torture. If anything, it would prolong it. You shuddered.

Razor was quiet, his gaze on you while he seemingly evaluated you.

He came to you because he had heard your cry for help, didn't he? Did he intend to help you, or was he only here to witness your misery up close?

You wouldn't know until you asked.

“I know you said how you got in wouldn't be interesting to me,” you began, “but… Would it be possible for you to take me out the way you got in?”

“No.”

The blunt answer was unexpected, and you looked back up as you blinked in surprise.

“Oh.”

Your voice was shaky now, and you were barely able to breathe out the words “why did you come here, then?”

“I was curious,” he answered.

…. Curious.

That was all. He saw the scene outside in the nearby village and wanted to know what that was all about. Now he knew, and he likely wouldn't stay around for much longer. And unless the rain delayed the execution, by noon tomorrow you would be sent up to the sky in a plume of darkened smoke.

Your fate was sealed.

With that realization, your spirit broke for the second time that night and you began to sob, overcome with grief while you curled into yourself with your head in your hands, tears obscuring your vision. The rain outside was beginning to come down harder, and in one spot of the room, a bit of the water was beginning to drip onto the pile of fabrics, but you were too distraught to notice.

“Why are you crying?”

Razor sounded genuinely confused when he asked that a moment later.

After a few moments of trying to compose yourself, you shakily answered “I-I'm really go-going to die tomorrow.”

“Why are you so certain of that?”

“Because you can't help me,” you answered just as your mind began going wild with many terrible thoughts.

You'll be cut up and stuck like a pig. Burning coals placed in and against you. Whipped until the skin of your back was raw and bloody. Placed inside horrific devices that would make you yearn for death.

The fire will be a mercy

Razor hadn't said anything, and with the way you held your head in your hands, you were too scared to look up, afraid that when you looked over to him again, you would find that he was gone, no longer interested in your particular set of unfortunate circumstances. Or perhaps he had never been there. Perhaps your mind had broken and you had made up a figure you could talk to, one who was willing to believe your side of the story and offer even the smallest bit of comfort but that the delusion was only able to go so far, only last so long before you realized what your mind was doing.

It was bitterly cold in that tower now, the many candles placed around the room doing nothing to keep you warm.

Then, above the sound of the rain, you heard movement in the room. That of someone climbing to their feet.

You didn't look up.

The footsteps you heard after were muffled by the way they stepped on the ruined gown and the other materials still strewn about the floor, but you heard the way someone came closer to you.

That someone then knelt down in front of you.

…. It sounded real. And you could sense that there was a person sitting in front of you, feel just how close they were to you.

Was Razor real? But if he was, why was he still here?

A large form suddenly overtook yours, and you gasped as two strong arms wrapped around your back and pulled you in close. Your head shot back up in time to see that it was Razor; he was still in here with you, and upon feeling his touch, you found that he wasn't any sort of hallucination. Without a word, he pulled you up from where you were curled against the wall and against his chest.

Razor was holding you.

Outside, the rain began to come down even harder, the sounds of the multitude of droplets descending from the heavens far more audible now on the stone tiles.

“Tell me,” Razor said, “what do you want?”

“… What I want? Why does that matter?” you asked.

“Because I'd like to hear.”

“Why?”

“Just tell me,” he said.

It was strange. Why was he interested in any of this? Why did he care enough about you to ask? What did he get out of it?

…. Who really cared if you were going to die soon?

Taking ahold of his shirt, you leaned your head against his chest as you answered “All I want is for them to not hurt me.”

Razor was quick to ask “and by 'them', you mean the inhabitants of this castle and the village beyond?”

You nodded.

“Say it aloud,” he ordered.

“Say what?”

“Say that you want me to save you from those people.”

“Why?”

“Because that's the only way I can save you.”

“….. You want to save me?”

“I do.”

Razor clutched you tighter as he continued with “so say it. Say that you want to be saved from all those who would wish you harm.”

Was that truly all it would take?

You questioned it in your mind for only a moment, as you were quickly reminded of what would happen once the guard came to collect you. Torture and death. Undignified, humiliating and painful. All before an uncaring crowd who only came to your execution so they could have an outlet for their anger at the previous tragedy or simply for the entertainment of watching you die.

You weren't going to go through that. You refused. You had done nothing wrong and you didn't deserve a fate like that.

“Please, Razor,” you whispered, “save me from all of them.”

The unexpected happened once again when Razor leaned down to place a kiss on your forehead. But you were given no chance to question that as you heard when the rain outside manage to come down even harder.

Then came the sound of thunder, a deep rumbling that shook the very foundations of the tower you sat inside. It almost sounded like the growling of an animal. The winds were picking up as well, whistling past the castle and through the buildings of the village beyond, forcing open the doors and shutters that had not been properly bolted shut. In the distance, you could hear a single voice exclaim in surprise.

A lightning bolt struck.

One that was so close and so bright that you could see the light that came from it beneath the door of your cell. The thunder that accompanied it was even louder than the rumbling before, and you pulled your hands away from Razor's shirt to cover your ears while the entire building shook violently.

Even with the protection over your ears, you heard as the guard outside was startled awake as he fell from his seat, calling out in shock.

More voices called out in the distance, sounding less surprised and more frightened.

And then the hail came.

It started off the same way the rain had, falling innocently upon the roof. The small pellets bounced off harmlessly, clinking against the tiles. But just like the rain, they began to come down harder, and the longer they fell, the more of them began to batter against the roof with even more force.

The guard outside left his post, hurriedly running down the stairway.

The hail came down stronger still, and you unintentionally whimpered, the noises from the outside worrying you the longer they went on.

Razor spoke then.

“You'll be fine. Just wait for it to be over,” he told you.

Something crashed into the room.

You snapped your head over to where the sound had come from, only to find that several of the candles had gone out. The howling wind was easier to hear now, as was the ever present thunder. And, while it was harder to make out now, you thought you heard similar crashing noises coming from outside the door, as well as voices that screamed out in response.

More objects crashed into your cell, and within moments all of the candles had been snuffed out. Now you were in the dark, the only bit of light coming from the lighting that raced across the sky above the tower.

You kept your hands over your ears while you cowered against Razor. He continued to hold you, and you felt him shift around you, positioning himself so that he shielded you from the worst of the storm that got in through the holes in the roof.

In the chaos that the storm brought in and around the castle, it took you some time to notice that the figure you were huddling against seemed…. Different. The body positioned above you felt larger, the muscled arms felt stronger than before and at the ends of his fingers, you felt claws that lightly pressed into your skin through the fabric of your clothing.

Even though you knew you would see very little if you tried to look up at what exactly was shielding you, you kept your eyes squeezed shut, too afraid that you would see something you shouldn't.

How you eventually fell asleep during that ordeal you would never know.

Droplets of water landing on your cheek were what roused you from sleep, and while at first you mindlessly brushed them away, once you to fully regained consciousness you shot up into a sitting position, remembering the storm of the previous night while you took in the state of the room.

It was in shambles. Ruined fabric strewn everywhere, jewels and threads scattered about, the door now hanging open on one hinge and a multitude of holes punctured through the ceiling, allowing in the dripping water and small streams of sunlight. Many of the jewels had been broken to pieces, torn apart by some unknown force. And after moving a sheet of fabric that you noticed had a hole in it, you found that whatever had pierced it had also gone straight through the floor beneath it.

Yet you were unharmed, and currently you were laying on top of your unfinished projects, a few of the larger pieces sliding off of you that seemed to have been placed on top of you while you had been asleep.

….. You'd been asleep. And you had been that way for quite a while, judging by what you could see of the sun through the roof.

No one had come for you?

You then looked to the door, and then realized that what you were seeing was wrong. Why had it been left open? Who had wrenched it open in such a way that it had been damaged?

Where was the guard? Where was the lord and his wife?

Where was Razor? Not here, that was certain.

Quietly, you pulled yourself to your feet before you approached the open door, keeping your footsteps light as you tried to listen for anyone who might be coming your way.

You heard no one.

And after exiting your makeshift cell and finding your way to the stairs, you stopped when you came to a small window, looking out at the village beyond. Even with the distance, you could see that the village had sustained just as much damage as the castle, if not more. And perhaps it was only because of that distance, but you couldn't hear any activity coming from there. No sounds of any villagers either attempting repairs or to go on with their workday as best they could. All of it was silent except for the distant sound of the waves from the nearby sea.

You continued going down.

The first person you found was a guard at the bottom of the spiral stairway, stiffly splayed out at the bottom of the steps, weapon still in hand. You didn't need to get close to see that he was dead. When you saw him first you stopped, not wanting to get any closer. The markings you could see on his armor and body worried you. But if you wanted to leave the tower, you needed to step over him. After a few moments of gathering up your courage, you descended again. Once you got closer was when you discovered the cause of his death:

Holes.

Dozens of holes that ranged in size were all over that had punctured through his body. The majority of them had struck him in the back, though when you carefully stepped around him, you saw that there had been a few that had struck him up top through the head and shoulder. He'd been standing when he was first hit, and whatever had pierced him had continued to do so until the storm had ceased. No doubt he had been dead long before then.

The thought of 'what could cause such a thing' was a brief one – you quickly caught sight of the hailstones that still littered the ruined hall, and you noted a few that were colored red, matching the blood that had oozed out of the guard's puncture wounds.

The hail had been strong enough to pierce through the roof, you remembered. If it had no issue with that feat, it had no issue going through human flesh.

How many others had died?

You began to wander the halls, stepping over hailstones and pieces of the castle that had crumbled in the storm's wake. Soon enough you were stepping over bodies as well, all of whom were in a similar condition as the guard you had first seen. You found other guards. Then servants. Then nobles. You recognized two of the lordship's daughters, both huddled together beneath a barely upright table, their desperate attempt at shelter failing miserably as the hailstones slowly melted into the blood around them.

All of them with riddled with holes.

No one had survived. No one other than you.

…. You needed to leave.

If anyone from the outside discovered this scene and found you the sole survivor, you would be questioned as to how you of all people had lived. That ran the risk of receiving more accusations and death sentences if you couldn't come up with a good explanation. No, it was better to take whatever food you could find in the kitchens and then travel as far away as you could for a fresh start.

No one needed to know the truth.

You only payed attention to the structure of the castle from then, limiting your attention to the bodies of the dead to brief glances. Some of the damage to the walls had been extreme enough that you feared parts of them could come crumbling down. Even more reason to leave this place.

The kitchen wasn't hard to find, situated at the lowest level of the building. There were bodies within that room as well, but you kept your focus on the contents of the room, immediately going to scavenging for the food that was still edible. A loaf of bread and a few apples were quickly placed into a bag you found nearby that appeared to be in good shape, and you slung the bag over your shoulder as you began a search for water. You wanted to make as much distance between yourself and the castle, so you wanted enough food and water to last you for a few days. If all went well, you would have found somewhere else to stay by then. Where that would be exactly or what you would be doing, you had no clue, but you would deal with that when the time came.

Catching sight of the closed door of a storage room, you began to make your way there.

Only you noticed the body that lay just before it.

Another servant, this time a man, who had been filled with holes like the rest. Only the state this particular body was in was different from the others you had seen. Parts of him were missing. Specifically one of his arms and pieces of his legs that had been torn away. With the way the meat of his flesh had been torn off, it almost looked as though an animal had gotten to this one.

What sort of animal could devour an entire arm and leave nothing behind?

Something snapped in half behind the storage room door.

You took a few steps back as your attention was now there, listening as a sickening noise echoed within the confines of that room. Another snap like that of a bone, and then the sound of tearing, like tough meat being ripped apart. A loud chewing sound followed, accompanied by unearthly grunting. And then a crunching noise that followed sounded as though whatever was in there had just broken a bone with the strength of it's jaw alone.

…. There very well could have been the remains of some large animal within that room, one that had been hunted the day prior.

But taking another look at the man who lay in the middle of the kitchen floor and the state he was in, the missing arm and the state of his legs, and you found yourself having a hard time believing that whatever was in there was feasting on a mere animal.

Leave now.

Before it turns it's attention on you. The water can wait.

With that, you held tightly onto your bag of food as you turned and swiftly made your way to the door that lead outside. You'd taken hold of the handle and you were about to pull it open when-

Stop

A voice that reverberated in your head made you freeze, and despite your best efforts to break free, you were petrified to that spot, still tightly gripping the handle of the door that lead the way to freedom.

Why couldn't you move?

The door to the storage room creaked open and you felt your blood freeze, your breathing coming in heavy as you were certain that whatever that thing was that was now coming out was going to kill you-!

Instead of a beast-like creature that you anticipated charging at you, footsteps sounded against the floor. They were coming towards you and you felt an odd feeling of deja vu.

“Ready to leave, I see.”

You recognized that voice.

And as soon as those words were spoken, you had control of your body again, allowing you to look over your shoulder to the figure who now stood behind you.

It was Razor.

He smiled at you and placed a comforting hand upon your shoulder as he said “forgive me for leaving you by yourself like that. You seemed like you needed the rest and I thought I'd take a look around before we left.”

“…. Before we left?” you repeated, asking “I'm going with you?”

“It's a fair trade for saving your life, don't you think?” he asked in return.

You looked about the room again, focusing on the hail that had managed to make it's way down there and the bodies within that were just as battered as the ones on the levels above. Everyone within the castle was dead. And then you remembered that the village was in the same state, if not worse. At this point there seemed to be little doubt that anyone there had managed to survive.

“You did all this?” you asked. You felt the horror in your own expression, that Razor was capable of so much destruction.

He raised an eyebrow at you, asking “why do you care? These people would have happily killed you if not for me.”

He misunderstood what you meant, but you weren't given any chance to explain yourself as he wrapped a hand around your shoulder and pulled you close.

“I'll protect you,” Razor said, “and all you need to do in exchange is follow my every order. That doesn't sound bad, does it?”

His black eyes were staring down at you again. Staring at you, daring you to disagree with him.

Do what he wants, your mind told you. And since your voice currently couldn't work, you gave a small shake of your head to answer 'no', that it didn't sound bad.

The fact that you felt otherwise was besides the point.

Razor smiled at you, and the squeeze of your shoulder that accompanied that indicated that he was pleased with you.

“We should get going,” he then told you. He pulled you away from the door and took the handle, opening it for you. You wanted to ask where you were going, but you still couldn't find your voice. When he held the door open and looked at you, you followed his silent order and walked out the door, clutching the bag of food while you kept your gaze on the ground in front of you. Razor was soon leading you through the desecrated courtyard, making sure you were never too far away from him.

And as he took you through the castle gate, you wondered just what sort of future was in store for you. Your gaze went back to the man – spirit? Demon? – as you wondered what fate was in store for you now that Razor controlled it.

#reader insert #yandere x reader #razor x reader #yandere razor #hxh razor #yandere hunter x hunter #yandere #yandere hxh #hxh x reader

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drarrily-we-row-along · 8 months

Text

July 17: Outdoors

(I did, in fact, start writing this in July, only to heartlessly abandon it after writing 4 paragraphs because I was a mess. So... enjoy it now? [insert shrug emoji])

Draco fucking loathed the heat.

He despised the summer, with the hot fucking sun and too few clouds. He hated the way his body felt, too hot, sticky, always wet, his clothes damp where they clung to his skin. It felt like the outdoors was boiling him in his own sweat.

And yes, he was sitting on the edge of the pool, his calves and feet in the cool water. And yes, he had worn his shortest pair of shorts, and his most light-weight button up shirt that he wore unbuttoned down to his naval, and his giant sun hat that shaded his skin and protected him from the sun (in addition to his strongest sun-blocking charms), and his huge sunglasses to keep him from glaring because of the sun (it didn't change his glaring because of his annoyance at the heat). And yes, he'd consumed more than his fair share of ice water and the long islands that his host kept on the table.

But it didn't change the fact that he was sticky, sweaty, hot and currently, more to the point, also fucking aroused.

Because Harry Potter didn't seem to have the same problems that Draco had in the heat. His bronze skin glistened with sweat and tanning oil; beads of water rolling down his pecks and abdomen, collecting in the hair on his chest and stomach when he emerged from the pool. Potter, instead of turning a hideously unattractive shade of red like Draco, only continued to grow more golden in the sun, painfully fucking beautiful. His swim trunks were indecently short, clinging to his muscular thighs and perfectly round arse, and leaving far too much of his skin on display.

It wasn't fair for Draco to have to be this hot and also attracted to someone. Attraction took up way too much space in his brain and body and he simply didn't have the energy for it in this heat.

“Draco, are you even listening to me?” Pansy snapped.

“No,” he replied honestly, as he took another long drink from the straw sticking out of his glass.

He didn’t have to be looking at her to know that she was rolling her eyes at him. “I will never understand your fascination with him.”

“Shut up,” he snapped. “You’re only attracted to women,” he said, then, “and I’m not fascinated with him,” he added as almost an after thought.

Before she could reply, Ginerva was interrupting them, sliding her soaking wet, bikini-clad body in between the two of them.

“Uggh,” he said, sliding away from her, “you’re soaking me.”

She looked over at him, that particular brand of Weasley mischief that Draco did his best to avoid, shining in her eyes.

“Whatever you are thinking, don’t you fucking dare,” he warned her.

But then both of her hands were on him, unceremoniously shoving him into the pool. And it wasn’t that Draco couldn’t swim, but he didn’t swim terribly well, and he hadn’t expected to be shoved into the pool in the first place, so the panic took over.

Strong arms wrapped around him, pulling him to the surface in spite of his flailing and choking. “I’ve got you,” the body holding his assured him.

And Draco recognized that voice, frankly, he was fairly certain that he could have simply recognized the body by touch alone; no need to hear or see or smell him. He wanted to tell him to just let him drown, let him slip back under and die because it would be better than living through this embarrassment, but he was still coughing and struggling to get a good breath, so none of the words quite came out right.

Potter carried him through the water and over to the steps. “Come on,” he said softly, guiding Draco out of the pool, “let’s head inside and get you some dry clothes.”

“Oooh!” Ginerva had the nerve to call out and Draco relegated her back down to his least favorite Weasley.

“Fuck off,” Potter called, flipping her a two fingered salute on their way in. "Are you alright?" he asked, all charming concern for Draco's well being.

“I’m fine,” Draco said, in spite of the way his throat was still burning and aching. “I should just go home.”

“Absolutely not,” Potter replied, leading him through the house and back toward what Draco could only assume was his bedroom.

And Draco had imagined Potter taking him back to his bedroom a thousand times but the circumstances had been very different in his imaginings. He'd imagined (fantasized) about Potter being so taken with him that he couldn't resist his charms; Potter calling him beautiful, sexy, unable to keep his hands off him.

Instead, Potter was treating him like a patient. In a decidedly unsexy way. He picked up his wand off the nightstand next to the bed, “I’m just going to cast a spell to clear any residual water from your lungs,” he informed him. The spell rattled through Draco as he moved his wand over his chest in a complicated pattern. “Then I’m going to stick pretty close by for the next couple of hours,” he said as he moved to the closet and started digging through for something for Draco to wear. “Best to monitor you.”

“I really don’t think that’s necessary.”

Potter turned to glare at him, “which one of us is the healer and which one of us is the wand maker?” He put his hands on his hips, “I wouldn’t argue with you about how to make a wand-”

“You would,” he interrupted. “You literally have.”

“You can either choose to be monitored by me or I’ll take you to St. Mungo’s myself,” he warned.

“You wouldn’t.”

Potter raised an eyebrow and crossed his stupidly buff arms over his stupidly broad chest, “try me.”

"Potter," he groaned.

"Don't Potter me," he said, apparently taking that for acquiescence and turning back to his closet. "Now, I think these swim shorts," he said, holding out a tiny pair of swim trunks with flamingos on them, "will work because they have a drawstring waist band. And this button up," he said, holding out a pink shirt that matched the flamingos, "will be best because it's lightweight and matches the vibe you're wearing now."

Draco accepted the clothes and carefully didn't point out that he could have just cast a spell to dry the clothes he was already wearing. The temptation to put on Harry's clothes was far too great. "Are you going to stand there and watch me dress, too?" he asked as he started to peel off his wet shirt. "Do I need monitoring so intensely?"

"No," Potter said, turning so quickly that he almost ran into the doorway. "Err," he said, stepping sideways and out of the door. "I'll just wait out here."

Once he stripped out of the wet clothes, he cast a quick spell to dry his body before putting on Harry's clothes. They didn't fit as well as his own did, certainly, Harry's chest and shoulders were far broader and Draco was quite a bit scrawnier than him, but they didn't look half bad. And more to the point, they were Harry's, so they smelled like him and even looking at them sent a thrill through the pit of Draco's stomach.

"Well," he said, stepping out of the room, "I suppose they'll do."

Harry, who'd been leaning against the wall, stumbled over nothing and nearly fell, choking on a cough as he stared wordlessly at Draco.

"What?" he asked self consciously, looking down at himself.

But Potter was trying to straighten himself, shaking his head. "Nothing," he said. Then he repeated himself, "Nothing."

"Right," Draco said, feeling a strange mix of self consciousness and attractiveness. He had the urge to flirt with the other man, just to see what would happen.

Potter turned and made his way toward the door, Draco followed and tried to decide what he could say or do to attract the other man's attention.

On their way back toward the pool, he saw it, the perfect excuse, dragging his feet just a bit, he let his toes catch on a tree root and let his body tip forward. "Oh!" he cried as he fell, "ouch! My ankle."

Potter was there in an instant, hands fluttering around Draco's sides, "what happened?"

"Oh, I tripped over the tree root and twisted my ankle," he said, holding his leg in the air and showing Potter. "It's probably the heat, I'm just feeling a little faint." He draped an arm over his head to demonstrate how faint he was feeling. He should have gone into acting, he thought ruefully, as Potter tittered over him, concern evident in each action.

Warm, competent hands reached for him, one taking gentle hold of his foot the other grasping his leg just above his ankle. "You're having a terrible go of it," he said, looking up at Draco with those guileless green eyes. "You're never going to want to come to one of my parties again."

Potter's magic washed through him, warm and bright, tingling around his ankle and Draco shivered with delightful anticipation.

"It doesn't seem like anything's broken," he said, "why don't we just go in and let you rest on the sofa." Without another word, he lifted him into his arms like Draco weighed nothing at all, and carried him inside once more.

"Thank you," he said, affecting a bit of helplessness in his voice. "I don't know what's the matter with me today."

"Probably the heat," Potter agreed, setting him down on the couch, rearranging the pillows to prop up Draco's leg. "Let me fetch you a glass of water. Are you in pain?" he asked as he moved toward the kitchen, "can I get you a potion for it?"

"Oh," he said, shaking his head, "I think I'll be fine in a few moments. You've been too kind already. I've been far too much trouble as it is," he demurred.

"Nonsense," Potter said, "You're no trouble at all." He carried the glass of water back to him and sat down on the sofa by Draco's hip.

Draco reached for the glass and took a long drink before letting his fingers skim over Potter's knee on the way to setting it on the table. On the way back, he casually brushed the back of his hand over the other man's thigh.

"Draco," Potter murmured.

"Yes, Potter?" he replied innocently before looking up and meeting his gaze.

The green of his eyes was burning bright and hot, and for just a moment, Draco couldn't breathe.

"Are you actually hurt or can I kiss you?" he asked.

In lieu of answering, Draco reached up and wrapped a hand around Potter's neck, pulling him down into a heated kiss.

A kiss that only got hotter and more desperate, escalating so quickly that before he knew what was happening Potter (and really, he thought wildly, he ought to start calling him Harry at this point) was climbing over him. He pressed him down onto the couch, straddling his hips, as his hands cupped Draco's face to angle it just right to deepen the kiss further. He let his hand stray down the muscular expanse of Potter's back toward his arse, fingertips just slipping below the waistband-

"Shit."

They both turned their heads in time to see that Neville and Blaise were standing in the doorway, gaping at the two of them.

"Sorry," Harry said, and Draco turned his head to find that Harry was looking at him with utter mortification.

And that simply wouldn't do. "Blaise," Draco said, staring straight into Harry's eyes, "be a dear and tell everyone that Potter's party is currently an outdoor only event and that he will no longer be available to attend to anyone's needs."

"Except your's apparently," Blaise said, smirk evident in his voice.

Harry buried his face in Draco's neck in a fit of shyness that Draco couldn't help but find adorable.

He smirked over at the other man, "except mine," he agreed. "Oh, and close the door on your way out."

The door clicked shut and Harry held out a hand, sending a wave of magic to lock it. He pulled back to look at Draco, "so what needs do you have that need attending to?" he asked, eyes sparkling with mischief.

"Oh, come back here and I'm sure I can come up with something," he replied as he pulled the other man's body down and flush against his own.

And it proved that once Harry started, it was all too easy to continue giving him more needs to fulfill.

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