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bloodandthestars · 1 year

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・✧ — 𝐇𝐄 𝐀𝐓𝐄 𝐌𝐘 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐓

tags: NO SPOILERS!, antihero! reader? i guess?, mention of blood, takes place before across the spider-verse, will be edited, one mention of something sexual but nonetheless mdni anything else I’ll let you read to find out <3

author’s note: helllooooo everyone! this is the longest thing i’ve written for my blog yet. he’s been rotting my brain heavily and i needed it to spill out somewhere. do let me know if you enjoy what’s implied and if you’d like more. a lil vague incase there is a future series. I love this but at the same time……anyways- translations and taglist are at the bottom of the post. enjoy!

wc: 4.5k :: masterlist next

BZZT. BZZT.

“Miguel,” You purred. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”

“It’s Important.”

It always was. “…And what kind of call is this?”

“Work-related.”

You hum. “Pity.”

“You still have ways into Oscorp?”

“Always do.”

“Good, I got a job for you. Meet at the usual spot at 9.”

A chill runs down your spine from the light wind passing through the night. You awaited your contract atop the Alchemax building, looking down at the neon lit city below. It was bright with cybernetic blues and greens, every now and then you could hear a hover car or two whirl by, only to miss it blend into the rest of the blurs flying by. The sight could never bore you, not in how it could change every day. That was the nuance of Nueva York, after all. Nothing ever rests, not even the wicked.

Nor the man that lands behind you with a thud of his feet and a slight grunt. He walks to your side in silence, taking in the city as you do. The sharp points of his eyes narrow. “You’re sure you’ll be able to get in this time?”

You turn to send him a look. Your hand raises as a drive twirls around your finger. “If you thought I couldn’t, you wouldn’t have hired me.”

He lets out a dry huff you take as amusement. His head turns to look at you. “Alright, you got me there.”

You barely catch the way his hand flies out to grab the device from your hand. His reflexes were always quick, but in this rare moment, you were just a bit quicker. Your hand is mere centimeters away from his in the air, catching you both in surprise. Your shocked expression slowly turns to one of accomplishment. His mask shifts, but knowing him, he was deadpanning under it. You chuckle, placing the drive in a pouch among many holstered onto your thigh. His eyes drag up from it’s placement to your eyes. You place a hand to your hip. “You ready?”

He places a foot to the edge of the roof. “Will you be able to keep up?”

Now it was your turn to huff, placing a prepared foot out as well. “Always.”

He gives you a final look, a lingering one you can’t quite place your finger on. He takes off and you’re quick to follow. The route felt routine to you both at this point, jumping over small spaces between buildings that eventually begin to stretch in distance. Your feet rush in a dash, swiftly jumping over over air conditioners. Miguel takes to running on the side of the buildings before webbing back to the rooftops alongside you. The two of you move when a roof entrance divides you, the heroine using his webs to ease his momentum after jumping over another conditioner back to your side. You slide under piping, coming up to jump in unison to the final rooftop. He lands on his feet, while you need to roll to slow yourself down. Both of you rise at the same time, looking up to the greenly lit skyscraper with geometric lettering spelling ‘OSCORP’ on its side.

“Which floor?”

He responds with a nod to the higher top of the building. “84th.”

You tilt your head to think. “We’ll have to climb the back side of the building. There are enforced windows starting at level 80.”

You feel a hand on your waist, causing your head to whip in his direction. You had to crane your neck slightly to meet his eyes. “Thought you said this was work-related?”

“Hush, descarada. You know what I’m doing.”

You roll your eyes, discontent with him ruining your fun. You hook your leg at his waist and he moves his hand to lower back to keep you stable. With one arm he’s able to secure you at his hip. You hook your arms around his neck and you both look up at each other. Curse how close he is and the way his voice gets low to affirm to you. “You good?”

You nod. “Yeah.”

His free hand shoots out a web, not wasting time with flying through the air. No matter how many times you’ve swung with him during an operation, your grip still tightens around him in a sudden jolt once you’re flying through gravity. The rush used to take your bones in a wave of nausea, but now it’s all adrenaline that flows through your body. You hoped that was why your heart quickened just then.

Miguel goes by your instructions, swing to the back of the building. From there, he gets you both to the windows of the 80th floor. You let out a breath of relief at the emptiness of the lab. Pulling your gadget from your other thigh holster. It had a metal hook at its end and with one push of a button, it closes in its claws for something thinner with a green light atop it. Your thumb rolls back the dial on its side, clicking another button. In a green flash, the two of you are inside the lab floor, silent and desolate. Your gadget goes back to your thigh, turning over your shoulder for any signs of trouble.

“Are you ever gonna tell me where you got that thing?”

You turn to look at him, a playful shrug rolling off your shoulders. “You looking to buy one?”

He sets his hands in the air, immediately shaking his head. “Nevermind-”

“I mean if you really are looking to, I can get you set up-”

“No, no, I already know wherever you got it, I don’t need nor do I want to know.”

You let out a quiet laugh. “Miguel? Breaking one of his rules— what was it again?” You place a hand under your chin. “Oh yes, ‘don’t ask questions’?”

“And you’re all the more reason why the rule still applies.”

You both reach the emergency stairs however, a handprint was needed to unlock the door. You pull a small glowing blue rectangle that looks similar to glass. A press of your thumb and a hologram emits from it. You give it a swipe, the image shifting through dozens of handprints. You stop at a familiar bulky one. Facing the glass device to the lock, it takes the holographic limb into its code and clicks to unlock.

“How does it know it’s real?”

“You lurk around the underground long enough, and you’ll see that people are in the market for all kinds of things.” You place the glass back into your pocket. “Holographic or fake skin included.”

Miguel raises a brow— not to say it wasn’t possible. He’s sure that with the right elements, tools, it could be possible. But how people got ahold things like that weren’t out of the highly advanced labs he worked in, he didn’t know. The thought only made his stomach turn. Maybe he should stick to his own rules.

You both head up the steps, going from level 80 to level 84. From the window of the door, the two of you peer out to see an empty floor. It was safe to say that it seemed too easy. Only a few guards patrolling up and down in their routines. You look to Miguel, who looks right back at you. You shrug. “There’s always a patrol going on.”

He looks back to the glass. “Seems more than usual.”

“Maybe it’s because they’re starting to notice a few things going missing.”

“….Maybe.”

You tilt your head at him. “What? You can’t take them?”

His head turns to you, the red of his mask narrowing. “I can take them.”

You smile at his annoyed tone, patting his strong shoulder.

The hallway is silent for the six guards on duty tonight, say for the air conditioner buzzing in the background. Guns are held strong in their grip, pacing back and forth in their routine.

THWHIP!

Three lines of webs block the muzzles of three guns. The guards get tense, looking up to see where the webs came from. They didn’t have time to think, much less act— the lines steal their weapons from their hands, clanking to the ground along with a guard. The other three guards turn, only for their muzzles to be stuffed with webs as well. You slide past the first three, going for the second row. In your hands were clear cut batons, whacking at two guards’ knees. Your baton lets out a hard crack from an upper cut from below and dropping a guard in an instant. You use your hand to balance yourself as your calves lock around the other guard’s neck. You flip him down to the ground, landing you in a kneeled position to throw your baton into the nose of the final upcoming guard.

With a hard smack, he goes to the ground. You stand on your feet, walking over to grab the baton. You turn to Miguel, who’s got his three guards tied up. You look down to the baton, a red liquid causing your stomach to fall. Turning back, you see the guard’s nose as the source. Panic settles in your head, until you see his chest rise and fall. You let out a sigh of relief, quickly wiping the blood off of on the latex of your thigh. You look up to see Miguel, who finally turns to you after you it clean. You share a look to each other before you shrug. “Poor bastards.”

You both begin walking to down the hall to the entrance when he responds. “Never saw it coming.”

The steel doors greet you with shiny meshed reflections of your bodies. You use the holographic glass again, and the doors slide open with a cool hiss. The lab was vast, with a control center in the middle with scaled monitors larger than you both. They light the space in a light blue hue spreading to its very corners. You both approach the system after a cautious walk.

“Think it’s my turn to show off.” The spiderman pulls his wrist device into view, displaying a small gold hologram and pressing away at data.

You lean back with the computer behind you, arms crossed. “Oh really?”

“Mhm.”

“Was I showing off before?” You ask with a playful tone.

He huffs at your words, tapping away until his tech. After a moment, his hand goes out. You know he wants the drive, but making things easy for him was never something that entertained you. Your finger raises with the drive’s key ring around it, waving it. “Please?”

“Do you take anything seriously?”

“None of that sounded like please.”

You sense another deadpan across his face. You roll your eyes, throwing into his grasp. “Don’t act like you’re not familiar with the word, now.”

He starts a little, whipping his head back to the computer system. You hear him grumble under his breath, something along the lines of “-mierda, me llevarás a la tumba-”

It causes you to let out another laugh for the night, a sound that he’s gotten used to.

You watch as he plugs the drive into an insert in the computer’s system. Various windows of information pop up on the monitors, lines of words you don’t exactly understand in a quick scan from your eyes before it vanishes. It wasn’t your job to know anyhow. Whatever a client needed, whatever he hires you for, is a trade of information for his eyes only. That never stopped your curiosity however.

You look away, eyes set to the steel doors. A ponding in your chest for the unexpected, only soothed somewhat with his company next to you in the long moment of silence.

The look on your face soon narrows as he’s still at work. “Almost done?”

“Yeah, just waiting for it to give me access.”

“To?”

“A chip.” He states plainly.

You open your mouth to ask more questions, only for you to be stopped by his body tensing. You raise a brow to him and you follow his line of sight back to the steel doors. The two of you remain eerily still, awaiting what was the cause for his tension. It was quiet, but you knew better than to trust that over his enhanced senses. You both glance to each other with caution.

You start. “Is someone-”

He tenses much worse this time, on guard in a flash. “Yes, they’re outside the door with-!”

The doors open and from its crack is thrown a silver canister. As soon as it hits the ground, a clouded air is released. Your nerves feel like they’ve gone ablaze. A hiss cuts into your thoughts, causing you both to turn to the computer. A capsule releases from system, and you grab what you assume is the chip he needs. The smoke only grows larger in size. Before you can say a word, he gets close, a hand over your nose and mouth. He tells you in a low voice of urgency. “Behind the computer, now.”

You both move quickly, his hand still atop your face. Placing your backs to the monitors, you try and take a moment to regain your mind for a plan. It’s difficult when you feel your heart try to rip out of your chest. Your eyes glance up to him as his body remains close to yours, an ear out to the approaching sounds.

“We’re going to have to-”

A clank sound interrupts him as another canister lands right in front of you both. Smoke begins to seep out of it at a rapid pace. Your throat began to burn, eyes watering as you tried to force down a cough. It was no use, you erupt with the sound out of reflex. He looks to you. “Don’t-”

His spider senses take in the next one being thrown and shoves you to the other side of the lab. He kicks the second one far from either of you. When the third one flies in the air, a web grabs hold of it and throws it back over the computer, where grunts and yells could be heard. In the mists of getting control of your vision, you hear him yell to you. “Go! The stairs!”

You scrape up to your feet, and the last thing he sees of you is your fleeing backside.

Miguel was a natural in situations under pressure. He had been in labs with mixtures of chemicals that would have to be settled in seconds, fought against robots and maniacs. He could handle this.

His face remained focused, shooting out webs as soon as an idea flew through his head. The sticky components lands on a lab stool, and with a grunt, he swings it into the back of the computer monitor. It flickers in its blue light, cracking and falling in the way of the assailants. He turns, eyes darting around the environment. His eyes light up to the emergency exit, with no other choice but to push through it.

A climb of walls, a sling from webs up the steps, and the Spider-man busts the rooftop door. Whirls of technology snap his attention to what’s in front of him— light blaring in his face with a large amount of guards surrounding him.

Miguel was a natural in situations under pressure. He’s done plenty of operations, fought when the world was a blur around him hundreds of feet in the sky. A wave of guards what a slight to his determination, but his mind…was elsewhere. He removes most of their weapons out of the equation, taking them in clusters with his webs. He lands a punch here, and slam with his glowing webs there. He had yet to see you or hear you yell out to him. Hand to hand combat increased, blows getting harder in their impact, grunts slipping past his lips out of increasing frustration. It felt like there was no end in sight, not that it mattered anyhow. His mind felt as though it was sinking in the tangled ropes of his paranoia. The longer time went by, the more restless Miguel got and the more determined he was to get through his enemies with vigor.

“I GOT IT!”

You shout from across the rooftop, the chip in your clasped hand. A red and blue mask turns to in your direction, relief washing over him like a flood. Between you both were many henchmen flooding from the roof’s entrance, all set to standing in your way. He nods to you through the chaos, and you nod back. The two of you run on the sidelines until you hear Miguel faintly shout. “Get over here!”

“Working on it!” You shout back. Eyes dart through the growing group of goons to find a clear path. His eyes are set on you the whole time, watching your face as the cogs go to work.

Your eyes squint, heart beating out of your chest, but you have a plan— somewhat. You knee one person out of the way, moving through the space to shove through a few more. Two step right in front of you. Not losing your momentum, you sweep your leg under one of them and use that same leg to balance the other into a high kick. It creates somewhat of a clear path for you, trying to get closer and closer to the man you’ve been working with all night. You catch a glance of him pummeling through a few men, giving you a slight of relief and all the more determination to pull through.

You’re almost there, goons try to grasp at your suit, tools, or mask, and you’re barely able avoid their invasive touches. You waste no time pulling out your hooked tool, clicking a button to throw out a long thick wire. It wraps around the ankle of a man and you pull hard. He falls, knocking into others like pins as he’s dragged across the concrete. Your path has never been more clearer. You click your wire back into your tool, eyes catching Miguel’s.

He takes out one more enemy before jumping off of the roof. Your feet quicken, taking after him and taking your leap.

The skyscraper’s height furthered your velocity downward. Wind blew into your face, strong in its force. Your tool wouldn’t be far enough to reach the buildings surrounding you. Your body reacted, stomach twisting and turning in an effort to scream at you the very danger you were in. But you? You calmly shut your eyes.

In an instant, a strong arm catches you as intended. You open your eyes, hooking your arms around his neck to secure yourself to his body. You squeeze the device you both needed into your palm to confirm your grip. With one hand, he swings from building to building to ensure some distance between you and Oscorp. After a few more buildings, Miguel slows down to a roof with a large neon sign right at its front. The momentum fades, allowing you both to land behind the bright lettering.

You pull away from his side, hands going to your hips as you caught your breath. Your chest rises and falls with rough exhales while he was silent in gathering his own air. After a while, you catch his voice speaking to you. “You still have it?”

You swallow, nodding and throwing the device to him. He catches it with ease. His large fingers examine the data card. Gold lines so microscopic but filled with the intelligence needed for his work to protect others. He slips it away into an empty wrist capsule, eyes flickering back up to you.

You placed your back against the sign only a few steps away from him, chest slowing to normalcy. Your eyelids were low, lashes soft in their curl. He gains his focus back when your irises appear from them.

“How many times do I have to catch you staring for you to realize you’re terrible at being subtle?”

Your teasing words cause his mask to shift, knowing all too well he was displaying his usual frown. “I can be subtle. You, on the other hand, can’t turn on a filter if you had one.”

An amused smile appears on your face, causing another sudden wave of relief over him. You take a glance to the sky before looking back at him. “Yeah, but that hasn’t kept you away now has it?”

Miguel grunts, and you turn your head away with a laugh.

The back of the neon sign behind you illuminates strongly in the night, red light seeping through the crevasses of the letters to give your vision clarity. Your body regained air in your lungs but the bruising was beginning to ache from your complications from getting to the roof. Out of the corner of your eye, you can see Miguel’s arm holding his side. Your brows scrunch together. Just what was so important to risk a hailstorm raised on them from Oscorp? You knew from your previous encounters, that he wasn’t just hitting the large corporation, but any place with the highest level of technology in the city.

You begin after a beat of silence. “I mean, I can’t have some idea of what you get from the jobs you-?“

“No, you don’t”

Your eyes turn to a glare. “Watch that tone.”

“You know, you being demanding isn’t exactly an ease to deal with-”

“Would you like to do something about that?” You take a step closer, looking up to his tall stature. Your gaze is set to where his eyes were, feeling his eyes look directly back at you.

“I..” His brows knit together. You know what you meant, he knew what you meant. It takes him a second to speak with a retort, locking his jaw. “…not here.”

You purposely look to his masked lips, then back to his eyes. “…Thought so.”

Miguel takes a hard and long swallow, shutting his eyes.

"So, what's the deal with that chip?" You ask.

Miguel opens his eyes when he clears the clouding in his mind. Not fully, but enough to attain what you asked. He hesitates for a moment before responding. "It's...complicated. Let's just say it's valuable and leave it at that."

You raise an eyebrow, sensing there's more to the story. "Valuable how?"

Miguel shakes his head. "I can't say. It's not safe."

You cross your arms. “What we did tonight, or what we do every other night for that matter, isn’t safe either.”

“I know that but-” He lets out a sigh of frustration, his mask fading off his face in squares of blue light. Words never were his strong suit and his paranoia didn’t help his case on which words to choose. Or for you to know what he has planned. You were different, he knew that. And yet, he still eyed you with caution. It was in his nature.

You look him the eye, knowing he was weighing his options in his head. His jaw relaxes, voice settling into a softer tone. “I’m doing what I’m doing to protect people. All the things I’ve had you get? They help with that. You know I’m not- building some criminal empire or making some kind of genetic super weapon-”

“Really? Because those were only two of my theories-”

“I’m not-” To others, they would take his tone as immediate annoyance. But you know it’s laced with a slight of amusement that immediately disappears.

He hopes it’s enough to satisfy you, to keep you out the possibilities of pulling into a growing web of complications. But he knew you just as much as you did him, both akin to an unshakable stubbornness.

“I think you can do better than that.” You step forward into his space again. His larger stature is unmoving, but he could feel warmth radiate from your body at the familiar closeness. His eyes go down to yours, crimson irises slowly loosing their sharp edge the longer your gazes are on each other.

“We said we don’t owe each other anything…no matter what we do with one other. And I get that.” You tilt your head at him. “But if more jobs end like tonight, and I can barely catch an escape-“

He’s quick to respond. “I won’t let that happen-“

“-But if,” You emphasize. “That starts to become an occurrence, I at least want to know exactly what I’m sticking my neck out for.”

He looks to your features, scanning over your unwavering expression. You can’t help but look at the way he presses his lips together. Miguel locks his jaw to think, perhaps he’d do so in order to keep the words from coming out. Eventually, he lets out a sigh. “A super computer.”

Your face scrunches, brow slowly going up. “A…super computer?”

He mutters, still looking down at you. “Yes.”

“To protect people?”

“To protect people.”

His voice was firm, supposedly closing the door as quickly as it opens. You study him, trying to go over your past jobs to try to piece an explanation together. Sadly, you couldn’t. The path you’ve gone down, your lives beginning to intertwine like a binding threads— you knew that finding out what he was up to would be wary road.

Eventually letting out a sigh, you’re disappointed but understanding. "That’ll do I suppose.”

He watches you take a step back from him, back leaning against the sign. Out of the corner of your eye, you see that he follows suit. You both look out to the vast city, lights greeting your wandering gaze once again. The two of you sit in silence for a few minutes before you speak up. "You know, for someone who's always so serious, your fleeting sense of humor is enjoyable.”

Miguel huffs, chuckling soon after. "Is that your way of saying I'm not as boring as you thought?"

You grin, a sight he appreciates after your tenacious standstill. "Oh I’ve never found you boring. In need of a good fuck to let loose? Definitely.”

Miguel rolls his eyes, but there's a hint of enjoyment in his tone. "I'm plenty loose when I need to be."

You laugh. "Sure you are. That's why you're always so tense."

Miguel smirks. "I'm not tense. I'm focused."

You give him a playful shove. "Whatever you say, Spider-man."

translations: descarada (minx), mierda, me llevarás a la tumba (fucking hell, you’ll be the death of me)

taglist: @manchuria @mezzke @rea-zxv @vvitcxen @pooiooi @jowtaro @coleseyebrows

#is it. is it obvious y’all fu-#or that he’s protective #im going off of trailers here guys I’m seeing the movie next week #writing #miguel o’hara x reader #spiderman 2099 x reader #miguel x reader #miguel o’hara #fics #across the spiderverse #spiderman across the spiderverse

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seoafin · 1 year

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And I know it's hard enough to love me (But I woke up in a safe house)

pairing: vash the stampede x fem!reader warnings/tags: babygirl vash, Depressing Pillow Talk, slighty nsfw towards the end, sharing one bed trope, title taken from let's get married (MITSKI VERS) word count: ~4.2k

“My husband and I would like a room,” you say with a smile as you wrap your arms around Vash’s and lean into him. You feel his body startle at your touch, his gaze on top of your head as you play the part of the excited bride. You think he might pass out on you if you don’t get him to room, and fast. “We’re on our honeymoon.”

“In this shithole of a town?” The innkeeper asks with a raised eyebrow, looking from you to Vash, who only lets out a sheepish chuckle as he scratches the back of his head. Despite his sluggish breaths, his slow blinking gaze, and the red slowly staining his shirt.

You shrug, trying hard not to be impatient. “There are worse places.”

There are. You’ve survived them. Compared to the slums of December or September, this shabby, worn inn is paradise.

“Yer right ‘bout that,” he laughs, acquiescing, as he tosses a ring of keys into your hand and takes your pouch of money. Vash is slumped into you now, and you can tell he’s trying his hardest not to place the full weight of his body on you. To anyone else, it would look as if he was clinging to you, the picture of a loving couple.

“Cheers to the happy couple!” the man calls out, tipping his hat down as the two of you move to the stairs in front of you.

Vash grins brightly, and manages a cheery, polite, “Thank you!” as the two of you pass.

You can’t resist the huff of a laugh that escapes your lips as you make your way up the stairs, and then into the small, modest dust lined room.

Vash collapses on the bed with a sharp exhale, and you immediately move to take off his shirt but his hand stops you by the wrist before you can.

“Sleep,” he murmurs, eyelashes fluttering. His fingers tightens, just imperceptibly, (even on the brink of sleep, he’s overly conscious about his strength, you think). In a way, it feels like he’s wordlessly imploring you to stay. “Jus’ need sleep. Not gonn’ take long.”

You blink. His fingers loosen, and in a few seconds his breathing has evened out into steady breaths. You’re relieved. He’s already stopped bleeding. From the months you’ve traveled with him, known him, he’s healed quickly enough that any other person wouldn’t understand. You still don’t. Not fully. But you’ve never asked questions. And as long as he never asked you any questions, that was fine with you.

You stay on the bed, by his side for a few minutes, watching him. You take off his sunglasses and put them on the nightstand after wiping the blood off them. He’s an unusually pretty man. Too pretty for No Man’s Land. You trace his face with your eyes. The beauty mark right under his right eye to his parted pink lips. Then down to the rise and fall of his chest to the plates of the cybernetic prosthesis of his left arm.

Lost technology. Not many people had access to that kind of technology. Or the knowledge to build that arm, let alone repair it.

Standing, you give him one last glance, reload your revolver and tuck it into the holster at your side, before you leave in search of medical supplies to patch him up when he wakes. You scope out the town while at it. It’s small; a handful of residents armed to the teeth with guns, and even less children. There are pipes that run through the town that you assume are fed fresh water by a nearby plant. You locate a medical shop at the center of town.

You buy antiseptic, gauze, and a few other things, before making your way back to the inn. The innkeeper gives you a wink.

When you open the door to the room, Vash is awake.

The sound of his harsh breathing fills the air. His metal hand fisted into the sheets so tightly you think it might tear. You meet his frantic gaze, and almost immediately, he slumps in relief, eyes dropping to his lap.

You quietly shut the door. “Nightmare?”

Sometimes, in his sleep, you hear him call out for a woman named Rem.

He lets out a loud laugh. You pretend not to notice the shaky undertone of it. “I slept for longer than I thought!” His metallic hand curls and unfurls, catching on the dull light of the room. “I thought you…” he trails off, suddenly embarrassed. He looks away.

“I brought supplies.” You place the bag on the table, next to Vash’s nickel revolver. You turn back to him: “Strip.”

His arms immediately make a cross on his chest, as if he’s already stripped, face bright red.

“I can do it myself—!”

Vash the Stampede. The humanoid Typhoon. The Sixty Billion Double Dollar Man. The man you originally only followed after to collect the criminals who swarmed to him, like flies to corpses. The man who leaves a trail of calamity and disaster in his wake. The man who continuously, everyday, without fail, begged you to leave the criminals you captured alive. A constant enigma and a headache. A walking contradiction.

“I’ll leave the room,” you say. “Don’t take too long.”

You leave the room, leaning against the wall, and wait two minutes.

You open the door, and Vash jumps with a yelp, stripped to the waist, arms covering whatever he can manage.

Scars cover his entire torso, running all the way down his flesh arm to his hand. Deep scars, shallow scars, scars that have never entirely healed, leaving the skin dark pink and the flesh caved in. There are more scars than there is unblemished skin, missing chunks of skin replaced with metal plates and seams.

It's not a pretty sight, but you’ve never much cared for pretty.

His face is flushed. “I thought—”

“I lied.”

“!?”

You shut the door with your heel, and then grab the gauze and antiseptic. “Turn around.”

Wordlessly, he turns, ears reddening. You direct him to sit on the bed, and then you begin to apply the antiseptic. The two of you sit in silence. You, disinfecting his fresh wounds and wrapping his back, while you also ignore the way his body tenses at your touch, his pointedly straight gaze, the constant bob of his throat, as if he’s looking for the right words to say.

He reluctantly speaks up. “You’re…not hurt, are you?”

“I’m fine,” you reply. Just a few scrapes and a bruised arm from where you had landed wrong after trying to dodge multiple rounds of bullets from the latest batch of criminals that had schemed to capture the humanoid typhoon. After hauling them to the police, Vash hiding away, you had gained yourself a hefty paycheck before being run out of the city, a bleeding Vash in tow.

You’re nearly done. The wounds aren’t nearly as severe as they had been only a couple of hours ago. The skin has healed enough that it’s already forming a scar. You don’t know much about Vash the Stampede, but you know enough to understand that he isn’t human. Not completely.

But he smiles. He laughs. He detests the very violence that nurtured you. He likes pizza and donuts. He’s moved to tears almost as easily as he seems to get hurt. He’s good with children. They trust him. Children love him in a way they don’t you: pulling him down to their height, climbing him, leading him and all his long limbs along. The way he takes their words seriously, nodding with all the gravity of a legal proceeding as they talk about the weather, their favorite foods, the silly argument they got into with a sibling. He smiles, and when he turns that smile onto you, it makes you think of everything warm and how you had forgotten what it meant to be happy.

He may not be human, but he is. Everything good about humanity that had been lost and forsaken when mankind crashed onto this unforgiving, harsh planet.

You pull away, resisting the urge to press your fingers down on his skin, to trace the map of his scars and feel him shudder underneath you. He’s as warm as a furnace. The heat of his body stays with you. “How do you feel?”

He beams at you, one hand on his upper arm as he swings his arm around. “Perfect!”

You sigh. “Don’t push yourself now. Let me finish wrapping you.”

He retreats back to his original position, still smiling, all reservations about his partial nudity forgotten as he waits for you to finish.

Vash speaks. “You didn’t kill them.”

You glance up. You can only partially see his expression from your position behind him, but the pull of his lips is unmistakable. He’s smiling. And you don’t need to look at him to see it. That sweet smile of his that pulls at his eyes and softens his entire face.

Your hands still. You hadn’t killed them. The Archie Brothers, the two brothers infamous for targeting banks and other commercial properties, who had gotten wind of Vash being in the city and emptied hundreds of rounds into the bar the two of you had momentarily settled in for a quick drink. It’s not as if you could’ve killed them in the first place. Vash was nothing if not easygoing, but keeping the criminals you turned in for a paycheck alive was the one thing he firmly enforced. Going as far to shield their bodies with his own.

He’s so troublesome sometimes.

You want to ask if he would’ve let you in the first place. If you had a choice.

You force yourself to wind the bandage over his arm. “You must be rubbing off on me.”

Vash turns, faster than you anticipate, eyes wide. You can see the pale irises of his eyes. He’s delighted. “Really!?”

You blink, staring at him in silence. He goes red, jerking back, scuttling backwards with his hands like a crab until he reaches the end of the bed and then air. He falls back first, legs raised up in the air.

He sits up with a sheepish chuckle, rubbing the back of his head. “I…I guess I got a little ahead of myself…”

“...pffft.”

He straightens just as you dissolve into full blown laughter. And when your laughter dies down he’s looking at you, eyes wide, like he’s seeing you for the first time. You clear your throat and look away, embarrassed. You don’t think you’ve ever laughed in front of him.

“...Something on my face?”

He jumps, frantically waving. “No, no. I just thought,” he hesitates. “You should laugh more.”

Something in your chest gives. You can’t stand it. Not when he looks at you like that. Eyes shining, lips curved softly, face animated like you’re the only thing that’s ever mattered.

People like him aren’t supposed to survive No Man’s Land. They aren’t built to. But you’ve seen with your own eyes how capable Vash is. It didn’t take much to kill a man in these lawless lands, but you had never seen him miss his target. Your didn't need to take pride in your aim to know it was excellent. You just didn’t have the same consideration for criminals Vash did. A life or two wasn’t something you lost sleep over. Casualties happened. And if it was a criminal, then it was simply divine judgment.

You stand from the bed and walk towards the desk. You take a doughnut out of a brown paper bag and throw it to him.

“For me?” He exclaims, easily catching it, even though you had thrown it to him.

You don’t respond. He enthusiastically tears it in half, and offers you the bigger piece.

You shake your head, the quirk of your lips, fond. “I don’t like sweet things.”

“I see…” he says thoughtfully, as if he’s digesting the information. “That makes sense. You don’t normally eat…”

It strikes you that this is the most you’ve ever talked about yourself. You’re unusually talkative today, and he notices. You find that you don’t mind. It’s alarmingly easy to talk to him now.

In the handful of months you’ve been traveling together, you’ve learned that all the crimes attributed to him had been the work of his twin, a man called Million Knives. A man you had managed to steal a glimpse of only once before Vash had locked you in a closet before rushing away. You were still sore over that. Even though he retrieved you soon after, apologizing profusely, accepting your cold shoulder with grace. Until you couldn’t bear the way he trailed after you with a pathetically sad expression on his face, and told him to stop.

You never asked him for details. Of why his brother was terrorizing towns and cities, stealing plants and lives along the way. You’ve never pushed. You weren’t following the man to learn his life story. You were in it for the money.

Until one day, you realized he knew your exact bar order by heart. The kinds of alcohol you’d drink, and the kinds you wouldn’t touch. It was a small thing. But he looked so pleased when he placed the glass down, as he waited for you to drink it.

You knew his fear of you becoming potential collateral damage, but somewhere along the way you think you had grown on him. Somewhere along the nights listening to him cry out in his sleep for a woman named Rem, somewhere along watching the sliver of light heralding sunrise on the horizon together, somewhere in the silence in the dark of nights shared.

You think he’s grown on you too.

“Have you eaten?” He asks.

“Not hungry,” you reply, glancing out the window. Pitch black other than the glow of a single lone street lamp nearly a block down. “I’m going to sleep.” It wasn’t often you got to sleep on a bed, and you planned to make full use of it.

You go to the bathroom to wash up. When you walk out, Vash enters the room with a load of blankets. You look at him curiously.

“I asked the innkeeper for some blankets.” He laughs, recalling the conversation. “I said that my…” he trails off. “My…ah…wife…” Red paints his cheeks, and he looks away, raising the mound in his arms a bit higher to cover his face.

“...”

You watch as he makes his way to the other side of the room, keeping his gaze pointedly straight, and places the pile down.

“You’re sleeping on the floor?”

“That’s right!” Vash pats the floor a little too vigorously for your liking. “Just like usual!”

You look at the bed. It’s big enough for the two of you so you had assumed you’d be sharing it… You’ve never shared a bed together before, but you had no problems with it, not with Vash.

He darts into the bathroom quickly enough that you don’t have time to say anything else. You hear the water run, turn off the lights, and get underneath the covers.

Then you wait.

When he leaves the bathroom, he gingerly folds his red jacket and sets it down on the chair. You wait until he passes the bed to strike, grabbing him by the shirt, and hauling him down onto the bed.

He yelps, a surprised, high pitched, noise that tears out of his throat.

“We can share,” you say to him, his face inches apart from you. You can see his wide eyes, the bob of his throat working, pink lips parted as he stares at you, but your gaze is resolute.

And that’s that.

You figure that it might be easier for him to sleep if you aren’t facing him, so you turn to face the wall. You stare at the wall for ten minutes, waiting for him to settle into his side of the bed. Not even a faint rustle of the sheets. You wait a little longer. You can’t even hear him breathing.

You turn back around to face him and immediately he draws back even farther from his original position, on the tip of the bed where he’s precariously close to falling off.

A nervous chuckle. “I…”

“Sleep. I won’t say it again.” You study him, his slightly panicked expression, the grip of his metal hand fisted into the sheets. Oh. “Is it me?”

“N-nothing like that—!” He inches forward, just a little bit (still keeping his distance), puts his hand underneath the pillow, and squeezes his eyes tight. You watch him for a few seconds longer, specifically at the bead of sweat forming on the side of his temples. Your gaze drifts down, from the delicate slope of his nose to his lips.

You turn back around.

Silence settles in the room like a muffled blanket. You still can’t tell if he’s breathing or not, and for some reason, sleep doesn’t come to you as easily as it usually does. The bed is too soft.

You don’t know why you say it. Maybe it’s because you’re awake. Maybe it’s because you know Vash isn’t asleep.

“When I was a child, a plant saved me.”

A few heartbeats pass.

Vash’s voice is softly hesitant. It feels like something gentle and your stomach coils tight, as if in preparation for the inevitable recoil that always follows. “Were you sick?”

“I was.” The darkness reveals patterns in the wall, and your eyes go blurry with them. “The entire town was sick. Children were dying.” Religious fervor had taken ahold. Daily ritual acts of praying and calling out for salvation.

Taking you to your town’s plant when you were on the brink of death had been your mother’s first and final act of love. Afterwards, your mother often recounted in a drunken stupor that she was sure you were going to die. That it may have even been a mercy if you had. The plant cured you. Your mother was sure of it, the plant worshiping denizens of the town were sure of it. Nobody knew how. Nothing except for the fact that shortly after—

“The plant died the day after. I’ve never forgotten it.” You killed it. It was the first life you took.

It changed you. On a fundamental level. Something had happened to you on that day you can’t even remember. But that’s something you don’t think you can share. How sometimes, you don’t even need to dodge bullets.

That plant died, and now you are here, sharing a bed with a self proclaimed pacifist who refused to kill under any circumstances. A man who defied all logic and reasoning. A good man anyone would call misguided. A fool. An idealist.

In the end, lives would always demand sacrifice. It was either you, or them. It was kill, or be killed.

You don’t know what face he’s making behind you. Is he horrified to know that your life had ended before it started? That you were responsible for taking away the source of life for hundreds of people? That your existence was predicated on sacrifice and death before you even learned how to walk? You were at inherent odds with the idealism of pacifism. With him. Not out of choice, but because of circumstances out of your control.

Maybe a part of you wants him to hate you. Maybe a part of you is looking to be understood. But you thought that part of you had died long ago.

You shut your eyes, prepared to go to sleep.

Vash exhales. “I don’t…”

You open your eyes.

There’s a conviction in his voice you don’t understand. “You didn’t kill it.” You wonder how he can be so confident. “The plant saved you.” I know it did.

You face him once more. He’s closer than he was before, close enough to easily touch. “Sometimes,” you start, hating the way he’s smiling at you in a way that touches his eyes, framed in the pale moonlight. “You really make me mad.”

His jaw comically drops open. You watch as panic instantly overtakes his face until he realizes the lack of heat in your words. His lips push back together to form a pout. He says your name.

“Why is your brother stealing plants?”

Money. Power. Recognition. Those would seem to be the most likely answers, but you’ve seen the wreckage that Million Knives leaves in the wake of his destruction. It’s cruelty. It’s too calculated to be careless. It’s pure hatred. You can’t fathom a man like as Vash's brother. Twin brother.

But then that voice inside you speaks. Are you really any different?

Vash blinks, and then his face falls, gaze downcast. It feels odd to see him like this. You rarely catch him without a big, sheepish smile on his face nowadays, especially when he catches you looking at him, but you had seen him with a forlorn expression, shoulders slumped, in your early days of traveling together. When there were no children to demand a ride on his back, when the two of you momentarily passed an overcast shadow, in the darkness of the night when he thought nobody was looking.

You almost regret asking him in the first place. But he’s so close you can count his pale eyelashes, and you lose your train of thought.

“You could say it’s…” his mouth twists, “revenge.”

Revenge.

He’s not the first misanthrope in these lands. You think the occasional mass murderous thought, and you resist acting on it more often than you didn’t, the days before you met a blonde pacifist gunman. There’s only so much a human being can take.

You think of the kaleidoscope of scars that line his body. You only saw the ones on his upper body, but you don’t doubt the existence of countless others everywhere else.

It must’ve hurt. It must’ve been other people. People intent on capturing him. People who wanted to hurt him. You hate them all. Every single person that has permanently marked him a way that wasn’t theirs to do in the first place. You hate whoever severed his arm, whoever had repaid his kindness with violence.

Desire strikes you, hot and sudden. You want to count them all, trail your fingers over the heat of his body, the uneven layers of skin, and feel his breaths underneath you. You look at him, as his gaze lifts, remeeting your eyes, pleading for your understanding. Ball and chain to his brother. Shouldering the sins of family. You don’t understand it. Why he’s looking to you for acceptance, as if it’d even make a difference.

He is the only good thing in this harsh world, and you’ve found him.

“Maybe,” you tell him, as he hangs onto your every word. “We deserve it.”

You see the split second sadness weighing in his eyes, at your words, right before you curl your fingers into his shirt and pull him to your lips.

His eyes go wide, and something that sounds like a mixture of an exhale and gasp leaves his lips. You separate, your lips a hairbreadth away from his, as he stares at you.

“Is this okay?” You ask. If it wasn’t, you’d go back to sleep, and forget it ever happened in the first place. You made your move. It wasn’t reciprocated.

But then he nods, so vigorously that his blonde hair flops into his eyes.

You smile, and Vash lights up.

You kiss him again, drawing his face closer with your hand on his cheek. He complies with his entire body, closing the distance immediately, like if he can’t help himself. His lips are clumsy against yours, too eager, too desperate, wet and messy, as he pants into your mouth. Heat pools in your stomach, and you want more. You run your tongue over the seam of his lips, and he lets out a sigh of something that sounds reverently like your name against your mouth.

Then your tongue is in his mouth, and his flesh hand jumps. There’s a breathless, throaty whimper, the entire weight of his body pressing tight against you. So you can feel every part of him. How he’s willing to give you everything in the name of desire, of love. And when you pull away, his lips follow yours, spit slicked and swollen.

You easily lay him flat on his back as you move to straddle him. You kiss him again briefly, tenderly. Then you sit up and pull up his shirt, just enough to expose his torso. His metal fingers fist into the sheets when your finger goes to a scar of pink skin right about his hips, lightly following it to right below his chest.

He chokes with a shudder that wracks his body. You can feel him, heavy and hard pressing against you. The slight jump of his hips, barely restraining himself from rutting into you.

“It’s not…” Vash struggles with the words with heaving breaths, face bright red, embarrassment splayed out. He looks to the side. “A pretty sight.”

You think of heated irons and blistering pain. Thousands of blades slicing you open, needles penetrating flesh, blind white heat enveloping your body, and the mindless oblivion that would follow.

You realize you’ve been silent a beat too long when Vash looks like he’s preparing for your inevitable rejection.

“I’ve got scars too,” you say, finally. Quietly. You take his mechanical hand in yours and slowly slide him up underneath your shirt. “You want to see?”

#vash the stampede x reader #vash x reader #trigun stampede x reader #trigun x reader #vash imagines #m.trigun

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gigicreates562 · 10 months

Text

The Bet- Fred Weasley x Reader

Y/n bets Fred that she can get him to admit his jealousy before the end of the week. It does not go how either of them planned.

TW: none

Word Count: 2,900

--------------------

“You’re an idiot” George stated plainly.

“Hang on- what have I done already? It’s only 9 in the morning” Fred retorted.

“The bet”

“Godric, she works quickly. How does everyone know already?”

“Because you’ve gone absolutely mental thinking you can win!” Lee piped in as he sat down at the table, “Everyone’s talking about how badly you’re going to lose”

Fred’s mind drifted back to last night.

…

“What did he kill your grandma or something? Why are you looking at him like that?” Y/n teased.

“Like what?” Fred replied, with his eyes still locked on Draco.

“Hang on are you jealous?”

“No,” He argued, still eyeing the Slytherin boy, “How did he get ahold of your gloves in the first place?”

“I left them there after our one-night stand last week.”

“What?” Fred’s focus whipped to her.

“You are jealous!”

“I’m not! Just …concerned for your well-being. Did you actually?”

“Of course not you twat. I left them at quidditch practice and he picked them up for me,” She answered, watching as Fred went back to eyeing Draco, “Why won’t you admit you’re jealous?”

“Because I’m not”

“Right… Interesting”

“What is?” Fred finally relaxed as Draco went out of the room.

“That you are jealous, but you just won’t admit it,” Y/N replied as she shoved his shoulder playfully.

“I won't admit it because I’m not jealous,” Fred said pushing her shoulder right back, “Why do you care? I think you want me to be jealous,”

“Wanna bet?”

“On what?”

Fred was slightly anxious. Deep down he knew he was a little jealous. Protective even. But he knew if he admitted it, it would mean admitting his feelings for her, which he was NOT ready to do just yet.

“I bet that I can make you admit you’re jealous by the end of this week,” Y/n challenged.

“You’re on.”

“Good,” Y/n stuck out her hand for him to shake.

“Hang on,” Fred took a confident step closer, instantly making y/n hyper-aware of their proximity, “What do I get if I win?” Fred brushed a loose strand of hair behind her ear, clearly testing her.

“If you win,” Y/n whispered while taking another step impossibly closer, “I’ll do your potions homework for a week.”

She could feel his chest against hers now but she was not backing down now.

“But if I win,” she continued, “You have to ask me to the Yule Ball- In front of everyone.”

“Deal,” Fred scoffed and shook her hand.

…

“Drag it out as long as you can mate, I’ve started a betting pool” George held up a pouch full of sickles, ever so annoyingly.

“WHY is everyone so convinced I’ll lose?” Fred hissed.

“Because you’re head over heels for her! And because of that,” Lee pointed behind him. All the boys directed their attention to the front of the Great Hall.

“Bloody Hell” George laughed out.

There she was. Standing at the front of the great hall in all her glory was y/n. But instead of her usual sweater and jeans, she sported a tight black turtle neck with a leather skirt resting just below her mid-thigh cleverly directing everyone’s eyes down her toned legs covered by sheer black pantyhose wrapped up neatly by a pair of stunning black heels. She looked absolutely drop-dead gorgeous and much to Fred’s dismay everyone recognized it.

She was currently surrounded by a gaggle of third years, shamelessly trying to catch the older girl’s attention. But there was one specific person who made Fred’s blood boil. To Y/n’s right- stood Cormac, ever the overconfident flirt, making Y/n laugh. Fred couldn’t believe it. He almost, almost, stood up, but at the last second Y/N caught his eyes, so Fred sat back down and directed his attention back to his food.

“Oi! Fred!” Dean Thomas called, approaching Fred, “Are you and Y/N still seeing each other?”

“We were never seeing each other Dean,” Fred hissed through clenched teeth.

“Oh. So you wouldn’t mind if I asked her out?” Lee asked bluntly. George had the nerve to laugh at the 4th year’s audacity, earning a glare from his twin across the table.

“Go right ahead,” Fred approved.

“Wicked.” Dean hurried away towards y/n fixing his robes as he went.

“Have I mentioned you’re entirely, utterly, and completely stupid?” George reminded once more.

“Shut up.”

…

That afternoon Fred sat at the desk in y/n’s room patiently awaiting her arrival. She was supposed to meet him 10 minutes ago, but still no sign of her.

Five more minutes passed and Y/N finally rolled in. Amongst her hair sat a small red flower tucked behind her ear delicately.

“What is that?” Fred pointed to the improvised hairpiece.

“A flower. Dean gave it to me. Red for love or Gryffindor or some rubbish. I don’t know.”

“So now you’re flirting with Dean Thomas? He’s two years below us!”

“Not flirting Fred, simply accepting a gift. Why? Are you jealous?” She challenged crossing to lean on the desk near him.

“I didn’t say that.”

“Right,” She relented rolling her eyes, “Well then, ready to study?”

“If we must”

…

Some days came and went and pretty soon it was Wednesday.

How on Earth is it only Wednesday? Fred thought. He was miserable.

For the past three days, he watched boys trip over themselves just to get near Y/N. He didn’t think she’d carried her own books to class the entire week, not to mention the sweets on her desk had now grown to be a small mountain. It seemed everyone in Hogwarts was determined to make him forfeit. But Fred, just as stubborn as y/n, would not give in that easily.

Today was the Slytherin vs Hufflepuff game. Fred and George routinely made their way up to the stands to support their best friend and third favorite beater: Y/n.

“Bloody hell I’ve never seen the Slytherin stand so packed,” Fred commented as he pushed through the crowd.

“Not to put salt on your wound mate, but I think you know why they’re here” George replied making his own way to the front.

“Unfortunately I’m painfully aware.”

“You have to admit. She does look pretty bloody hot when she’s playing” George poked,

Receiving a sharp smack on his chest from his twin.

“Hey hey! I am not the enemy… Simply pointing out the obvious,” He added.

Smack

“Alright!!”

~~~

“That was mad!” Lee exclaimed.

“I’ve never seen Hufflepuff eat shit that badly” George added.

“Come on. Let’s go find her” Fred said. He may have been in a bad mood, but even he couldn’t deny that it was an amazing game for Slytherin. The boys journeyed down the stairs to wait for the team outside the showers. As they got closer Fred rolled his eyes at the sight before him.

“Sorry gents!” Fred loudly announced to the small village waiting outside the showers for Y/n, “Y/N has already left! Snuck out through the back. Looks like you’ll have to obnoxiously fight for her affections some other time,” he ended, clapping a few of them on their backs.

Fred’s call seemed to clear out most of the crowd including a very disappointed Dean Thomas.

“Right then, that’s better,” Fred sighed.

“You’re encouragable” George muttered.

“Are those my favorite twins I hear?” Y/N exclaimed as she exited the locker room. Her hair was damp and beginning to curl up from the shower and lack of a proper comb.

“That was bloody brilliant,” George congratulated as he hugged her tightly.

“That was a pretty gruesome game,” Fred said, abandoning his usual cocky persona for a more timid one.

“And here I thought you wouldn’t come,” Y/N cood as she crossed over to Fred.

“I’m not jealous.”

“Didn’t say you were”

George cut in, “Right, as entertaining as you two are, I’ve got a date with my pillow. Great game Y/n.” George clapped her on the back and made a quick exit.

“He’s right you know” Fred turned toward the girl.

“About what?”

“You were pretty ‘bloody brilliant’,” he mocked his twin’s tone.

“Thanks, It helped to have my good luck charm in the stands as usual,” she beamed at him.

“Yeah… Well, I’m off then,” Fred said beginning to leave.

“Fred!” She halted the boy, “Um- Well I just… Thanks for coming.”

“Yeah of course.”

~~~

The party was a rager. Gryffindor had just won the Friday match and it seemed like all of Hogwarts was celebrating. The common room was packed with people from all different houses dancing, chatting, and of course drinking.

There was only one rule to get in: you’ve got to wear red and gold.

Fred, however, made sure to deliberately leave that detail a mystery to Y/N. As usual, he had a plan. He figured that this being the last night of their little bet, she would be plotting a scheme of her own, so he would have to beat her before she beat him. His plan was simple: she would show up at the door, not wearing the required colors, and he would graciously offer him his jersey. With no other option, she would be forced to wear a shirt with a big fat “WEASLEY” on the back, easily warding off potential suitors. Now all he had to do was wait for her to show up.

And show up she did. His plan was right on track. She approached the portrait hole confidently; strutting up in an emerald green Slytherin sweater. Perfect.

“Ope, sorry love, gonna have to stop you there.” Fred said blocking her path, “Red or gold required to get in.”

“What?”

“Yup. No entry for green. Sorry darling,” Fred smiled at her oh so sweetly. Y/N tried to ignore the little flutter of her heart when he used that pet name for her.

“But you are in luck!” He continued, “I just so happen to have this!” Fred proudly pulled out and presented his jersey to her, thinking he had won.

“Mhm. Let me get this straight,” Y/n exaggerated, “You ‘just so happen’ to have forgotten to tell me the dress code, and you ‘just so happen’ to have a shirt for me, but it ‘just so happens’ that it has the word ‘WEASLEY’ plastered all over the back?” She saw right through him.

“Yup,” Fred popped the p of the word as he held out the shirt to her.

But Fred had made one fatal mistake, he had forgotten the very reason he fancied this particular woman oh so much: her boldness.

“Right,” She began to speak loudly, as to attract the attention of everyone in the room, “SO I CAN'T COME IN WITH THIS SHIRT, BUT IF I CHANGE TO RED OR GOLD I CAN ENTER?”

“Yes?” Fred hesitated. What was she up to?

“WELL FINE!” She exclaimed, and Fred watched in shock and might he say admiration as the next few actions unfolded in front of him.

Y/n reached down and proudly pulled off her shirt over her head, revealing a bright red bra underneath.

Fred gaped at her. He definitely had not seen this coming, but by god was that attractive. He didn’t know if it was her confidence or just the proximity to her shirtless chest, but Fred Weasley was truly at a loss for words.

“Let the woman in!” Someone shouted from the crowd, and Fred stepped aside to watch as she walked past smirking. How did his plan manage to go that badly?

“It’s alright mate you made a valiant effort,” George appeared patting his shoulder, “But if you do lose I’ve got five galleons on it. I suppose I could share some of the profit.”

“I need a drink,” Fred uttered.

“That’s the spirit.”

~~~

The party raged on, and it was getting dangerously close to midnight. Y/n knew she had to finish this and fast. Luckily, she had the advantage. Fred had been hitting the fire whisky pretty hard, and best of all Cormac had entered the ring once more.

“Hey,” Y/n said approaching Cormac, “You played pretty well, I couldn’t help but watch.”

Actually, she could. She hadn’t even noticed him. In fact, she was pretty sure she was transfixed with a certain Gryffindor beater for most of the game, but she put that aside for now. She was winning this bet.

“Hello beautiful,” He smiled. She internally cringed at his words but persisted.

“Can I sit?”

“Of course” Cormac shoved over to make room for her. Y/n glanced at the clock, getting slightly nervous. 11:30. 30 more minutes- time to be bold. She stole a glance in Fred’s direction, who unfortunately seemed distracted talking to Lee, and with a deep inhalation, sat directly on Cormac’s lap.

“Well hello,” he praised as he placed a hand on her thigh. She fought the urge to move it away and pushed onward once more.

“Hello,” she flirted, glancing back at Fred again. Still not watching. Fuck. Why won’t he look at her? Why won’t Cormac STOP looking at her? Abruptly Y/n became startlingly aware of her shirtlessness.

“You look quite fit tonight. Really a killer outfit,” he joked.

She laughed, LOUDLY, Too loudly to seem natural but it seemed to have caught George’s eye. She hoped he would deliver the news to Fred. The clock was ticking.

Carefully, she placed a hand on Cormac’s chest.

“So do you, but maybe that’s just the fire whiskey talking,” Y/n flirted.

Now it was Cormac’s turn to laugh. Smoothly, he moved his hand from her thigh to her waist, pulling her closer to him. Her chest felt so exposed up against his Jersey, but she had to keep pressing forward. The conversation was going slow, too slow. 11:45. Where was Fred?

“Tell me Y/n- was this bra for me? Or was this just a happy accident,” her brain was screaming at her to bail. To call the whole thing off. But she was so close, Fred would be here soon. She was sure of it.

“Well I-“

“Y/n.” Fred FINALLY cut in. “Can I have a word?”

~~~

Fred ushered her quickly into his room. 11:50.

“The hell was that?” Fred was seething, “Cormac? I knew you were stubborn but I didn’t think you were that cruel.”

“Why? Jealous?” She teased, not quite grasping just how angry he was.

“Why is this a game to you? Why am I a game to you?” Fred sat down facing away from her, raking his fingers through his copper hair.

Y/n was dumbstruck. What just happened?

“What?” She was thoroughly confused.

Fred continued from his seat, “This whole thing. Do you think I wanted to be jealous? Do you think that I like how unreasonably irritated I get when someone else wants to carry your books? Why did you have to go and embarrass me for it? I’m sorry I ever even cared for you like that.”

“Fred- like what? What are you saying?”

“You know well what I mean. It’s already painful enough knowing I’m just a friend.”

“Fred, I guess I’m confused I-”

“I’m in love with you alright? I was perfectly fine loving you in secret! Why did you have to go and mess it all up?” He confessed, his temper getting the better of him. “Just forget it. Clearly, my feelings aren’t that important to you” He stood quickly and headed for the door.

“Fred wait!” He barreled out the door and down to the common room attempting to weave through all the people. Y/n was hot on his tail. “Fred- wait- please- just slow down a minute!”

He continued to push through and out of the portrait.

“Fred!” She followed just behind him, but he didn’t stop. Barreling all the way down through passageways and tunnels until finally reaching the boat house. He stopped on the edge of the dock, and she followed.

“You twat!” She accused.

“Oh, I’m the twat? You’re ridiculous,” He scoffed, turning to face her to argue further, but before he could she cried out.

“Oh for fucks sake!” Roughly, she grabbed the collar of his robes and yanked him closer to her, planting his lips directly on hers before removing them again.

He stared at her shocked, and for the second time tonight, Fred was at a loss for words.

“Did you seriously think I did all of this to embarrass you? Fred, I’m in love with you! I just was tired of dropping hints all the time, so I was hoping this might push you to admit your feelings. I had no idea it would go this far.”

“You- you love me too?”

“Of course I do! Fred, you and I both saw this week, that if I wanted to date someone else I could. But I don’t, okay? Can you get that through your thick skull?”

He stared at her. She stared at him. Gingerly, he approached her raising a hand up to hold her cheek in his palm.

“Y/n?” He whispered.

“Fred?”

The boy slowly moved his hand to grab her chin and pulled her lips closer, but just before they touched he stopped. Smirking he uttered, “It’s 12:05. You owe me some potions homework.”

“You’re insufferable,” she muttered as she finally closed the gap between them.

The kiss was slow and deliberate. The new couple was savoring their first real taste of each other. He tastes just like caramel she noted as he lightly nipped at her bottom lip. Y/n reached up to his neck to pull him closer, but Fred broke the kiss.

“Would you like to take this upstairs?” He asked, “Although the dress code for my room is no red so you’ll probably have to take that off.”

“Prick,” She said with a smile as she brought her lips back down to his.

#fanfic #fred and george #fred weasley #george weasley #harry potter #reader insert #fanfiction #fred weasely x y/n #fred weasleyxreader #y/n #fluff #angst with a happy ending #light angst #friends to lovers

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bunnys-kisses · 3 months

Text

by the fire - astarion ancunin

pairing: astarion ancunin x fem!reader rating: 18+ summary: ”Astarion.“ You said, ”C'mere."

He looked at you and he saw what was in your hand. You were holding a small pouch and between your pointer and middle finger was a small pipe. His red eyes looked at you and he smiled, “I see someone was expecting to have fun tonight.”

tags: pwp, drug use (d&d weed), outdoor sex, exhibitionism, high sex, sloppy sex, 2.7k words a/n: don't do drugs

”Astarion.“ You said, ”C'mere."

While most thought that it was just grass, the herbs that grew south of the nearby town could be smoked. And In all honesty, you enjoyed the after effects of it, even if it left you with a small headache come morning.

It was just the two of you, all alone in the big forest. Might as well have a little fun.

The fire was bright as you two sat on the shared bed roll together. You had the pipe, a pack of matches and the herbs. Astarion was already on you as you tried to put the ground up herbs into the pipe.

“You're going to make me spill it, asshole.“ You giggled as his teeth scraped your neck. You couldn't be mad at him for long.

He used to be prudish towards your consumption of something more recreational, that was until he had your blood. It turned out that the high could be passed if he drank your blood. While you smoked it, he simply had a sip of that sweet blood.

You used the match to light the pipe. You inhaled and your mouth filled with smoke. You coughed as you exhaled, the pungent smell of the smoke filled the air. As you coughed you tried to hand the pipe over to your lover.

He chuckled, ”No, no, I'll get my taste when I bite you.“ He smirked against your neck before he threatened to bite down on the skin.

You took another inhale and felt a shiver run through your body. You felt in a daze by the third hit. You were certain whatever lived in these woods could smell your good time. While wine was nice, as was mead, there was something about getting your hands on the herbs. It was a special occasion.

You felt a throb in your core by the time you were done. Everything felt like it had a soft hue to it. You were clearly not in a focused state of mind. You gasped when Astarion kissed your neck again.

”Astarion.“ You said quietly.

”I know, I can smell your blood.“ He smirked, ”So sweet, it made me almost lose control. Sometimes I want to devour you entirely. He could taste the high in your blood before he took his taste.

You giggled and fell to the side onto the bedroll. You laughed even harder which made Astarion pull away and stare down at you. You covered your face with your hands as you felt the heat rise in your cheeks.

You heard about people who could do many things while high, but not you. You ended up in a mess of giggles and beyond turned on. But Astarion was more than happy to relieve that.

“Look at me, my love.” He smiled down at you. He moved the pipe away from your hand so you wouldn't burn yourself. Those red eyes only seemed brighter by the campfire, “Look at me.” He said softly.

You marginally moved your hands away from your face so you could look at him. You noticed his eyes before anything which made you swallow. Your heart skipped a beat.

“I thought it took a while to take effect.”

“I think I took too much.“ You replied, ”I was given a lot. Now every time I look at you I can't help but laugh. You're making me blush.”

He crowded your space and gently kissed your cheek, “Well then, let me help you with that. Be a good girl and stay still for me.”

“Astarion.“ You drawled out but before you could cover your face again, he pinned your arms to the bed roll and went for your neck. You moaned loudly at the sensation of his digging into your neck.

You gripped onto the bed roll under you and arched your back. It made your pulse quicken from the sensation and felt like it was stuffing cotton in your brain.

”Shit.“ You moaned as you pressed your body against your lover. Your breathing was ragged as he had his fill of your blood. You heard him moan against your neck.

He held onto you tightly as he feasted. He could feel the high in his system. This was so much more efficient than smoking. He rubbed his clothed cock up against you as he sank his teeth deeper.

You whimpered, knowing there would be a bruise in the morning. You felt a bit of blood drip into the collar of your shirt. You clung to the bedroll as he finished up his drink.

He groaned against your skin and rested his head against you. He felt the pulse under his lips. He licked at the wound gently to stop the bleeding. His breathing was heavy as he gathered the last bit of blood on his tongue.

He threw his head back and exhaled, ”Shit." He panted before he looked down at you. His pupils looked bigger than before and there was a haze in his gaze at you. He let go of your wrist and brushed a hand through his hair. ”Perfect.” He said.

You swallowed and let him touch you gently. His hand quivered as he touched your face, you leaned into the touch and gazed up at him. You felt your heart in your throat.

”You are perfect.“ His lips were a little more loose as he felt the effects of the drugs in his system. He exhaled deeply, ”I mean it, I look at you and I see the whole world in front of me.“ He smiled, ”I can't get enough of you.“

“You’re such a sweet talker.” You giggled, “You just want to get in my pants.” You moaned when he placed one last kiss on you. When he pulled away you grabbed him by the collar of his shirt and pulled him in for another searing kiss.

Astarion looked at you with lust in his eyes when he eventually pulled away. Under the light of the fire, he had an expression on his face that made it very clear that he was inebriated. His chest was rising and falling rapidly as he started to get his shirt off. He exposed the scars of his back to the open night air.

You swallowed and reached out for him. You draped your arms around his neck, you felt some of the scar tissue under your fingertips. You relaxed onto the bedroll as you watched him toss the shirt to the side. Your eyes met once more and you smiled.

You felt the high course through you as you laid there. The night air felt nice against your heated skin. You breathed deeply as you felt a slight pain in your lungs from smoking. You touched the scars on his back when he came closer once more.

“Let us get out of our clothes. I feel like we’ll be more comfortable.”

You smiled and kissed him once more. The high became more intense once you parted. He gave you room to get your clothes. He gazed at your naked body for a brief moment before he started to undress further, you had to help him as the high made it a little difficult to keep balanced.

Once he was nude, your eyes lingered down between his legs. His cock was impressive, a little under eight inches and rather thick. He was erect which only made it slightly more intimidating. But you weren’t afraid, in your high state, you were elated by the size of it.

“Does my love like what she sees?” He asked as he reached down and grazed a finger across your jaw, “I can see it in your eyes, you want me.” He chuckled, that soon became a full laugh, “You look like a lost puppy who needs cock.”

You blushed, “It’s not like that. I love you, Astarion. For more than just your body.” You moaned when he closed the gap between you too and left kisses all over your chest. Your nipples grew hard from the sensation as he cupped your breasts in his hands. You kicked out your leg slightly but he kept you down on the bedroll.

He groaned against your heated skin as he felt pre-cum drip down from the tip of his cock. His kisses were plentiful as he scattered them across your chest. He sighed before he continued kissing. He eventually focused his attention on your right nipple which he gazed at with his fangs which made the bud harder.

You yelped and tried to move back but he kept you pinned. He dropped his hips against your thigh where he rubbed his cock up against you in anticipation for what was to come. He could feel the throb in his body as he sucked your nipple. He eventually left it bruised before he went to the other one.

“Stay still.” He said quietly. His tongue felt heavy in his mouth before he went back to pleasing you via your chest.

You moaned, “Please, Astarion. It feels so good.” Your voice was so meek and small, it aroused his further. Your nails dug into his back as he licked your nipple with broad strokes of his tongue. You could feel the stutter in your heartbeat the more he pleasured you.

“I want you.” He said, 'You have given me the best high of my life.’ He nipped your chest, careful not to break the skin. Any more blood and he would sleep a lot earlier than he hoped. With one last kiss over the center of your chest before he pulled away.

He gazed down at you as his chest rapidly rose and fell. He pushed the hair out of his eyes before he grabbed you by the waist and rubbed his cock up against you. He could feel heat settle in his body as his cock throbbed for you. He wanted you, he needed you more than he needed air.

You held onto the bedroll under you and let him guide you in the position he needed you in. You hooked your legs around his waist as he rubbed his erection against you. He teased you for a little bit, then built the anticipation for sex. He was always theatrical like that.

“Do you like that, my love?” He asked. He felt fuzzy all over, but his cock felt painful. He knew he couldn’t keep the teasing up for much longer or else he wasn’t going to last. He swallowed back a hard groan as he felt the wetness between your legs.

“I do.” You whimpered. The high was a thrum in your body, paired with the pleasure of sex you felt almost dizzy. You squeezed your eyes shut as you felt him insert his cock inside of you. But once he was all the way in, you were able to relax.

“Shit.” He sighed, “You feel so good.” His hands were back on your chest as he started to thrust in and out of you. His aw tensed for a moment as he felt the pleasure pool in his gut. Sweat cooled on his back as he massaged your breasts.

You whimpered and moaned loudly in the night air. You tried to meet his pace with quick rolls of your hips. Your eyes squeezed shut once more as you repeatedly moaned out his name. You felt excitement for being so intimate with him.

The heat consumed your body as you rutted against him. Your nipples remain hard as the two of you move against one another in a situation of passion. The high in your body only heightened the pleasure between you too.

His eyes were on your breasts as they moved with each thrust. He licked his lips at the sight of them. You looked like a dream. You were his in every sense of the word. Mind, body and soul. But you had the same as him in return. Bound together like a pair of souls. Linked until the end of days.

He craned his neck to look at your face. He got closer until he was kissing you once more. You could taste the residue of your blood in his mouth. Which in turn made your pulse race. Your toes curled in your socks as the pleasure built up between you two. He raked his nails down your chest and abdomen as he moved. You gasped into the kiss as his cock hit just the right spots. You left red lines on his back as you tighten your legs around his waist.

Out in the woods, just the two of you in an uncompromising position. Any being could see what you were doing by the campfire light. Out in the open.

Your head felt abuzz, the high was starting to taper off due to the rush of blood in your body and the movements of sex. But the high of sexual pleasure kept you feeling content. You loved having sex with your lover, your Astarion.

The hard ground was tough on your back, but the intimacy with your partner made up for it. You felt the edge of orgasm creep up on you. Your heartbeat quickened as his cock dragged against your inner folds.

The kiss continued, he left them all over your face with special attention to your lips till they felt tender to the touch. You panted wildly, you clenched around him. Your grip was tight on him as he thrusted his cock into you.

“Astarion.”

“My love.”

Two lovers, it was that simple.

You moaned into his kisses, your arms dropped to the bedroll and kept a tight hold of it as you arched. With a few more thrusts of your lover’s hips, you clenched around him tightly and climaxed. You let out a loud moan as you came.

He admired your beauty as you climaxed. A cold shiver of excitement went through his body. He held onto your hips, feeling the soft flesh, as he started to thrust inside of you. The overstimulating of him fucking you left you almost squealing from the heightened feeling.

Your head spun as he continued to move. You could hear his heavy breathing but your head felt full of nothing. Everything had a heightened yet fuzzy feeling to it as the strength of the herbs plus the pleasure made its way through your body. You laid there while he fucked you, unable to do much but accept the continued pleasure from Astarion.

He humped against you, his cock ached with a want for a climax. His breathing was heavy and he felt sweaty in the open forest air. He continued to bounce you off his cock as he attempted to achieve orgasm. He could almost feel your hammering heartbeat as the two of you fucked under the stars.

A vampire and his lover, having sex like animals under the vast night sky. It made him smile briefly and with one last hard thrust he finished inside of you. He let out a hiss through his teeth as he released into you, and painted your insides white.

He dropped your hips and almost fell on top of you as he managed to steady himself. The rush of the high and of the sex left him feeling dizzy for a moment. His mouth felt dry as he let out a harsh cough in an attempt to come to his senses once more.

Soon you both made yourselves comfortable on the bedroll. You had no intention of getting dressed just yet, you laid there admiring your naked beauty. You occasionally kissed even though your lips felt numb. He rubbed your ass in small circles as he held you.

“We should get dressed or else we’ll pass out like this.” You said drowsily.

“I’d usually say who cared, but the idea of someone seeing you this way makes me feel a little… Jealous.”

You giggled and yawned, “Never change, my Astarion, never change.”

#bunny writes #bg3 #bg3 tav #bg3 astarion #baldur's gate #bg3 x reader #bg3 x you #baldurs gate astarion #baldur's gate 3 #astarion ancunin #astarion #astarion x tav #astarion x reader #baldurs gate 3 #astarion x you #astarion smut

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sugar-plum-writer · 4 months

Text

The Serene Peony Of Winter

Paring: Sukuna!King of Curses x Fem!Geisha Reader

Tags: Slight! mention of violence; Fem!reader; Sukuna!imagines; will be 18+ as more chapters come; slow!burn, [I want to have a good build up!], an ancient Japan romance through time with darling reader~

[If you all like it, please heart and reblog the post! to know you want to read more~ and follow for chapter updates! or leave a comment to tag you when I put out new chapters~ I will do my best to roll out UPDATES ASAP!]

New Chapter update!

@naoyagasm @janeaugustine

@teonawrites @periwinkless-universe

CHAPTER- 3

1000 days, 1000 nights- but only 3 days of peace on a chilling winter night. Frozen houses, and frozen trees all soaked up the chilling breath of winter, letting it drown them in a sheet of white― pure and pristine, so pure and pristine that even the dead get company.

You had been able to bathe with hot water continually for 3 days, which is quite a luxury in the freezing winter. Rather than eating once in 3 days, you were able to eat every 2 days― gazing at the hot meal on your table as steam rose from a gift of satisfaction, into the surroundings.

"Ahahah! Y/n! You crazy girl!", Oka-San's laughter resounded in your room, as she sat wearing her new kimono, puffing her pipe

"To think you got him interested, did not die, is a miracle~ how many women can boast about it!", fanning her ōgi in front of her, sipping tea

"Do you know how much he gave?", A cheeky grin played in the reflection of her eyes― leaning in and took out a fat couple stack of Mon in front of you, "More is there but I have hidden it~ the sound of money is music to my ears!", she laughed tossing the coins in the air

"Muah! You are such a darling~"

"This meal, the hot water, this is the power of money Y/n this winter- won't be so cold", she hummed putting the stack of Mon back into her sleeves

"If we have leftover money, I will commission a new Hikizuri for you to wear this summer", finishing what she had to say she walked out after being called by one of the Maiko, silence filled the room

"But why?", gazing at your hands― and gently touching the small mark on your cheek which somehow was gone

"It's too noisy", picking up your chopsticks, and clasping your hands you prayed― grateful for the food and the hot bath due to your new patron, The King Of Curses, your new Danna. Sure a Geisha could have only one Danna at a time, but rules never applied to him anyways.

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

Holding your Wagasa to shield you from the cold, you walk with one of your patrons a sorcerer, wearing a light blue Hikizuri, and light-colored flower headpieces adorn your hair. With a light laugh, you walked down the courtyard.

"Oh my! it sounds delightful", batting your eyes as you smiled, "It is, if possible I would like- you to accompany me to my estate tonight", he gazed at your face

"I have people coming from the east prefecture, your dances are top-notch"

Politely without any reaction, "I must refuse, Danna-sama, forgive me― for my body is weak hence I need rest", bowed your head slightly and looked at him

"I see, maybe some other day then", he nodded, "But― be careful, word has been around", leaning in he whispered, "A strong curse has been around this area― some suspect him, to be the King of Curses", in a serious tone― eyebrows frowned

"If you get any information, regarding this, do tell me", he took out a pouch of Mon from his sleeve, which he kept in your hand

"Farewell, then Y/n, I will bring you your favorite Monaka, I know you have a sweet tooth. For now, I hope you like this gift", handing you a bira-bira featuring bells, long chains of additional silk flowers known as shidare, and a crest of the sorcerer stamped on the flattened end.

You smiled, "Then I will await your return Danna-sama, just like the cherry blossoms, waiting for spring"

"Can you wear it for me? After all I don't know if I will be dead or alive", he laughed

You looked at him, elegantly removing some hair accessories, pinning the bira-bira in your hair, and smiled. His breath hitched, and his body froze

"Beautiful, how can you be so beautiful... thank you Y/n", he smiled and bowed his head as he walked away waving

"I hope to see you alive…", you whispered, only the wind hearing your words, as it blew past

"He will die"

You froze, feeling a chilling presence behind you, you hesitantly turned around, feeling your throat dry up, and raised your head

"Quite a Lovey-dovey moment you had, how boring- don't think about him after all-", He laughed

"Sorcerers die, left and right, for a weakling like him to even reach so far- heh", the red eyes contrast with the white snow, that smirk plastered on his face, you knew it far too well

"Sukuna-sama", you bowed your head, and before you knew it, the bira-bira was removed from your hair, between his fingers- he gazed at it

"Do not wear it, especially, in front of me, toss it away, gold looks better on you anyways, accompany me Y/n", tossing the bira-bira back to you, he leaned in

"Your Oka-San sure is quite a woman, quite a gamble she has made", he chuckled, "Isn't she far too greedy?"

"She is, I won't lie, but this greediness has brought her so far", you gave a light chuckle as you looked at him

"Then if I am greedy for you- Will I be able to go as far as I want Y/n?"

Footnote: Check out masterlist for all chapters!

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sw5w · 2 months

Text

The Two Continue to Scuffle

STAR WARS EPISODE I: The Phantom Menace - Deleted Scene: Anakin’s Scuffle with Greedo 00:17

#Star Wars #Episode I #The Phantom Menace #deleted scene #Anakin’s Scuffle with Greedo #Tatooine #Mos Espa #Slave Quarters Row #unidentified Mos Espa denizen #coolth inflow pipe #Anakin Skywalker #Greedo #wupiupi pouch #leg wraps

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stalkerofthegods · 6 months

Text

Hermes Deep dive straight to the point

Herbs • Krokos (Crocus) koumara Tree, olives/olive oil, crocus, hydrangea, chrysanthemum, Palm tree, Almond tree, The Silver Birch tree, Crocuses, Saffron, Wheat, Rosemary, Pine Tree, Mint, Cinnamon, Cassia, Golden Benzoin, moly, strawberrys

Animals• sheep, dogs, boars, lions, Tortoise, Ram, The dove killing species of Hawk (hierax in Greek/Latin), Hare- (Greek “Lagos”), constellation Lepus, pig, ram, beef, mutton, pork, Cattle/oxen, hawks, roster, birds of omen, snakes, and guard dogs, fish.

Colors• Red, purple, silver, gold, copper, and black, Orange, Grey, Green, Red, white and brown (associated with traveling)

Crystal• Amethyst, Quartz, Orange topaz, Agate, Marble, smoky quartz, copper, silver, and gold, Eisenkiesel Quartz, Silver, Yellow Topaz, Amber, Citrine, Emerald, and Peridot, red marble, Hematite, jade, malachite, fluorite, pyrite, lapis lazuli, alexandrite

Symbol• Caduceus, Kerykeion (Herald’s staff and magic wand, lulls mortals to sleep and can wake mortals at will), Winged Cap (also called petasos, and a brimmed cap, this cap was called “Cap of Aidoneus, the unseen” because it rendered its wearer invisible), Golden Sickle, Winged Boots- called “pteroeis pedila”, A Sack (the kibisis) Talaria (winged sandals), and Petasos (winged helmet), golden or adamantine blade, shepherd pipes, Purse, Pouch, Hermai.

Mortal or immortal • immortal

Zodiac• Gemini and Virgo, and cancer

Equivalent - Mercury (Roman), Helios (Greek), Hyperion (Greek), Sol/Sol Invictus (Roman), Horus (Egyptian), Ra (Egyptian), Amun (Egyptian), Freyr (Norse), Bragi (Norse), Odin (Norse), Baldr (Norse), Heimdallr (Norse), Lugh (Celtic), Áine (Celtic), Mercurius (Roman god), Thoth (Egyptian god), Anubis (Egyptian god), Woden-Odin (Germanic god)

Attendees • Oreiades (oreads), Pan & the panes, Satyroi, oneiroi, he is often seen with Hestia.

Ephiphets• Agetor -Guide of Souls, Agonius or Enagonius -pertaining (Hermes’ role as presider over solemn festivals such as Agonius) Agoraea and Agoraeus- to Gods who were considered being the protectors of the assemblies of the people in the agora (also has a reference to the agora as the marketplace), Argeiphontes- “radiant one’, Euskopos Argeiphontes, literally “the sharp-eyed Slayer of Argos”, Chthonius or Chthonios, “of the earth or underworld, Hermes Trismegistus- “Thrice Great Hermes”, Kriophoros- the “ram-bearer” is a figure that commemorates the solemn sacrifice of a ram, Leucus- “white”- an epithet of Hermes in Boetia, a Greek city containing Thebes, “Of the Golden Blade”- he carried a sickle made of adamant, Cyllenius, or Kullhnios- from His birth or temple site on mount Cyllene in Arcadia, Diaktoros Argeiphontes – “the courier” Argeiphontes, Kratus Argeiphontes- “strong” Argeiphontes, Hermes Promakhos- “the Champion” Logios- writer, knower of intelligent design, Tetragonos- four square, Aglaos -Splendid, Agoraios - Of the Market Place, Aipytos -Of Aipytos, Akakesios -Of Akakesion, Angelos -Messenger, Agreiphontes -Argus-Slaying, Bouphonos -Slayer of Oxen, Dioktoros -Messenger, Dolios -Crafty One, Enagonios- Of the Games, Enodios - of the Road, Epimelios - Keeper of the flocks, Eriounios - Luck-Bringer, Euangelos - Bringer of Glad Tidings, Euskopos - Watchful, Gumnasiarkhos - Leader of the Gymnasium, Hermeneutes - Interpreter, Kerdoos - the Gainful, Kerukes -Herald, Kharmophron—Heart-Delighting, Khthonios - of the Earth, Khrysorrhapis -Of the Golden Wand, Klepsiphron - Deceiver, Kourotrophos - Protector of Youth, Kranaios- unknown, Krateros - Mighty, Kriophoros - Ram-Bearer, Kullenios - Of Mount Kyllene, Logios -of Speech, Maiados Huios - Son of Maia, Mekhaniotes - Trickster, Nomios - Protector of Flocks, Oiopolos - Shepherd, Pantokrator- Ruler of the World, Pheletes -Thief, Poikilometes - Full of Various Wiles, Poneomenos - Busy One, Promakhos- Champion, Propulaios - Before the Gates, Psukhopompos - Conveyer of Souls, Takhus - Swift, Tetragonos - Square, Trikephalos - Of the Three Ways/Heads, Trismegestos - Thrice-Greatest, Tukhon- Bringer of Luck, Aglaos- Radiant, Bright, Beautiful, Pleasin, enevolent. Angelos Athanatôn - messenger of the gods, Angelos Makarôn- messenger of the Blessed, Akhos Phêlêteôn- leader of robbers and thieves, Chrysorrhapis- of the Golden wand, Dais herairos - comrade of the forest, Diaktoros- guide & messenger, Dolios- Craft of Wiles, Dôtor Eaôn - giver of good things, Dôtor eaôn- Giver of good things, Enagônions- giver of good things, Enagônios-of the game, Epimêlios-Keeper of the flocks, Erikydês- famous, glorious & splendid, Eriounês - Luck bringing & ready helper, Euskopos-Keen-sighted, Hermêneutês- interpreter/translator, Kharidôtês- giver of joy/graces, Kharmonphrôn- Glad-Hearted, Krateros- Strong & mighty, Kriophoros- ram bearer, Kydimos-glorious, mastêrios- of searchers, mêkhaniôtês-trickster, Oiopolos- sheep tending& shepherd, Phêlêtês- their, robber, rustler, poikilomêtês- full of various wiles, Polytropos - Much traveled& much wandering, pompaios- the guide (he’s a psychopomp)

Element • air

Number•Four, eight, Squares (I’m not sure why…)

Past courtships• Merope, Aphrodite, Dryope, Peitho, and even Hecate, but some say, he is married to Peitho

Personality• People say he is chaotic, some say he’s wise and can be calm, he does give serious advice and is a serious guy, but he also has a sense of humor and won’t always steal from you. (he won’t if you ask him not to..I think.)

Patron of• of cunning thieves and liars, Patron of herdsmen, Patron of orators, Patron of inventors, Cattle-herders, Shepherds, Goatherds, Horse & mule breeders, Grazing pastures, Cave shelters, Guard-dogs, Animal predators, Bucolic poetry, music, Animal fables (ex- the tales of Aesop), Laws of hospitality, he is the Protector of guests, Cattle-rustlers, Bandits, Crafty thoughts, Mail carriers and sorters, Retail workers, Canvassers , Editors, journalists, and writers, Newspaper routes, Bank tellers, Carnies , Casino workers, Gas station attendants, Mechanics, presentations, public speaking, playlists (I've heard this years ago)

Diety of• Divine Trickster, boundaries and thresholds, Creator of civilization as Trickster, Messenger of the Gods, transgressor of boundaries and taboos, Inventor of fire, Inventor of sacrifice, of mysteries, Bringer of sleep, dreams, and visions, free will, Psychopompos or Guide of the Dead, Escort of the Gods, thieves, graves, and heralds, Luck, Unexpected Fortune, Giver of Good, of sacrificial priests, successful communication with enemies, translation and language, gymnasia and athletic youth, logos world order, trade and commodities, astronomy, knowledge, speech, Inventor of boxing, running and foot races, of exchange, alchemy, science, internet, Magic, Presider at solemn sacrifices, Divine Movement, Ruler of the Orphic House of Cancer, Ruler of the Planet Mercury, Western astrological signs of Gemini and Virgo, Scribe of the Gods, Protector of all messengers especially in war, Protector of wise women and elderly women, Fertility and Procreation, God of Masturbation, Soul Transformation and Guide through Consciousness changes, Heraldry and animal husbandry, speed, Codes, and Secrets, Caretaker of graves, Protector of travelers, Mechanics, Wine-pourer of the Gods, Inventor of weights and balances, Controller of Birds of Omen, hospitality, diplomacy, physical and moral boundaries, Orators, presentation, public speaking

Home• Mount Olympus

Fact• He invented the alphabet and dice and the lyre, he also has a stone called the “hermai” on the side of the road or a stone with a penis (he was a fertility god) to show a border or a crossing, sometimes to explain direction and distance, or in important landmarks is up ahead, the herms were worshiped, with offerings and anointed with olive oil and adorned with flowers and wreaths, telling us about the sacredness and importance of the hermai. (The ones near tombs are also connected to funeral rites)

Roots• Greek mythology, Mount Cyllene

Blessings • protection on the road, money randomly found, easy speaking, good parking, and less traffic. Herds multiply (fertility); Herds protected (from predators), Success in trade, Goods protected from thieves, having Persuasive speech, Poetic inspiration, Safe traveling, Protection of guests, Homes protected from thieves & criminals, having Wiliness and stealth,

Curses: Herds die off by disease and infertility, Herds lost to predators, Unsuccessful trade

Food recipe • Panspermia, a mixture of beans, peas, seeds, olive oil, milk, and honey, should only be offered to Hermes in his Underworld aspect. This offering is considered food for the dead and should not be tasted by the living (considered bad luck if Aten by living)

Offerings • Keys, Dice, Playing cards, Coins, Rocks/pebbles,Lucky charms (Cereal), Rabbit's foot, Horse shoe, Magic 8 ball, Coffee, Energy drinks, Herms, Road trip snacks (perhaps Hostess donuts), Airplanes/trains/cars imagery, Foreign/new foods, Trail mix, Peanut m&ms, rumane the marble popping soda drink, Turtles, Lyres/string instruments, Sandals/shoes/running shoes, Journals, Camping gear, Survival gear, like multitools, fire starters, first aid kits etc, Pens/pencils, Small (stolen) trinkets, Language dictionaries, Work out gear, Panpipes, Postcards, Letters, Mail, Stamps, Envelopes, Zodiac signs, Sheep/goats, Car parts, Backpacks/drawstring bags/bags, Crocos, Sticks, Saffron, Sticks, Books, Cups, Scales, Dream journals, Graveyard dirt, Cookie fortunes, Bikes/skateboards/skate, Old licenses/IDs, Sport trophies/jerseys/jackets/gear, Wings, Letters/numbers, Video games, Magic kits, Oranges/Lemons, Beer, White wine, Red wine for (His chthonic aspect, Milk, Mutton, Pork, Beef, Chamomile tea, Honey, Olive oil, Strawberries, Foreign foods, Eggs, Virgo or Gemini moon water,Golden objects, Silver objects, Musical instruments, Wands, Money/coins, Foreign money/coins, Dice, Pebbles, Feathers, Turtle shaped objects or art, Strawberry art or toys, Crocus flowers, Written stories or letters, Travel food, Souvenirs from your trips wheat, honey, twigs of olive, honey-comb and honey from local bees, cassia, cinnamon, saffron, include eggs, onions, garlic, pomegranate seeds, and fish or pork, barley grains, mead, beer (Especially German), lead, papyrus, pebbles, herms (or boundary stones), chocolate, whipped cream, coffee drinks, brightly-colored easter eggs, blueberries, granola, almonds, walnuts, pecans, Absinthe, beer, gin, vodka, red-bull, dry white wine, blessed moon water (especially in Virgo, Cancer, or Gemini), metal, jars, gin, pomegranates, onions, fish, garlic, Statues, Turtle Imagery, Hawk Imagery, Ram Imagery, Rooster Imagery, Marbles, Postcards, Chocolate, Lemons, Almonds, Mutton, Foreign Food, Brightly Colored Eggs, Onions, Sunflower Seeds, Fig Newton Cookies, Granola, Candies, Strawberry Milk, spring water, cookies or cakes, Wine, Golden cakes, Golden raisins, Apples, Music or poetry, Dancing, Drawings, pineapple, anything with computers, (especially boxing games, online games, and hackers), orange peels, gas station coffee!!, apples, bananas, grapes,Anything containing mercury, Crocuses, Panpipes, Saffron, Strawberries, Chocolate, Wheat, Honey, Lemons, Almonds, Cassia, Cinnamon, Pork or mutton, Spring water, Comforting a dying loved one, letters

Devotional• Board games, Dominos, pick up sticks, playing jacks, bouncy balls, peanut m&ms, write letters, go on walks, go run, do marathons in his honor, road trips, learn about alchemy, astrology, astral travel, prophet dreams, anything astrology related, learn basic car mechanics, give whatever to panhandlers, go talk to panhandlers (keep them company) , pranks, public speaking, tip well, stargazing, geocaching, learn a new language, Learn ASL, work out, Deive safely and predictably, use your blinkers fucking properly , bike/skate, clean your car, make a travel alter (for Hermes), get a passport, Travel , practice keyboarding, have a penpal, Train your voice, magic tricks, check your mail/email , low risk gambling (ex• lotto tickets) , make sigils, race, Play tag, be nice to wait staff, play sports, make maps of trails near you, make maps in general, play string instruments , Make herms, Carpool, Uphold confidentiality, Coin tricks, Be a reliable worker, Thrifting/yard saying, Dumpster diving, Making trades and barter, Help look for missing people/pets, Travel to new places, Learn a new sport, Practice speaking in public or online, Practice writing, Learn astrology, Learn astronomy, Learn about agriculture and animal husbandry, Learn magic tricks, Collect coins, Have a feast in His name, Dice games (ex- DnD), Card games, Donate to homeless shelters in His name, Give money to the hhomeless, Keep a dream journal, Write Him stories and poems or jokes, Honor the dead, Invoke Him on your travels or when looking for a job, always thank Him when you arrive safely or have some luck in your life, studying, learning, playing harmless pranks, attending magic shows, going on adventures, trying out new things, donating to fundraisers, working out, Taking a scenic route on your way home,Picking up loose change, Going to thrift stores, Being patient with delivery drivers, Going for walks, Making a mood board, Making a playlist, Making a dedicated journal, Giving to those in need, Going to/Watching sporting events, Practicing safe driving, Donations to hospitals and health institutions Donations to local artists, learn on how to save on gas, learn how to surf, draw sigils on shoes, leave coins when you leave places (extra points for pennys), give people in need a bus fare, clean off snow on other peoples car, clean your car, stopping for others (nicely, don’t run them over!), let him pick music, get a passport in his honor, decorate your passport, learn how animals communicate, call a love one, establish and force, dedicate a electronic to him, collect stamps and post cards, keep ur secrets, communicate with people when your upset,Keep a journal, Learn a new language/Revisit, Learn ASL, Learn about the evolution of language and how it is always changing, Be mindful of the language you use in daily life, Change your self-talk to positive, Voice training (Particularly for trans worshippers), Thinking before you speak, Learn about older forms of communication (ex- Morse Code), Learn braille,Go to the library and practice reading books in a foreign language ,Practice writing (great to do, Learn about the elements of writing, like allegory and metaphors, Play pranks (remember that good pranks cause confusion, not harm), Buy scratch offs/play the lottery, Understand how gambling addictions affect people, Dice and card games, Learn about good luck charms/Make your own, Learn about superstitions, Games like billiards or darts, Arcade/video games/carnival games, Make small/friendly bets, Poker nights in his honor, Do aGame of horseshoe, Learn parlor games, Smoke a bowl with Him, Learn a good joke, Write/perform stand up comedy, Checking your mail, Checking email/voicemail, Buying stamps, Flipping a coin, Dice divination, Charm casting, present a presentation in his honor, public speaking in his honor

Siblings• Aeacus, Angelos, Aphrodite, Apollo, Ares, Artemis, Athena, Dionysus, Eileithyia, Enyo, Eris, Ersa, Hebe, Helen of Troy, Hephaestus, Heracles, Minos, Pandia, Persephone, Perseus, Rhadamanthus, the Graces, the Horae, the Litae, the Muses, and the Moirai.

Appearance in astral or gen• Winged cap and boots, Traveller’s cloak, Youthful usually beardless figure or with a beard, with a Caduceus, sometimes seen with a mustache

Parentage• Zeus and the nymph Maia or Uranus and Hemera

Sacred days, festivals- Wednesday, the 4th day of the month, Hermaea, Agonius, in Cydonia social order was inverted for the festival and masters waited on their slaves, and slaves got to taste freedom.

Season• March, April, May, June (based on zodiacs)

Status• Messenger of the gods, and an underworld worker, he is called the darling of the gods

Music • anything from flutes or the lyre.

Sacred places• Mt Kyllene in Arkadia (his birthplace), Arcadia, mount Cyllene, Tricrena mountains, his Temples, his Cavern-shrines, Altars in market-places, gymnasiums, athletic arenas, house entrances.

Planet• mercury

Tarot• eight wands, magician, judgment, and maybe seven swords

Scents/Inscene • Frankensince, Myrrh incense, Lavender incense, strawberry, camphor, and malabathrumcock, storax, mastic, mace, moly, nettles, asafoetida, ginger, and marjolane, dragon’s blood incense, list cloves, tobacco, nag champa, poppy, and vanilla, ink on parchment, Musk, White Sandalwood, Nettles

His kids -Hermaphroditus, Tyche, Abderus, Autolycus, Eudorus, Angelia, and Myrtilus, Arabos, Abderos, Aithalides, Bounos, Daphinis, Ekhion, Eleusis (according to others, she was a minor goddess of Eleusinian Mysteries), Euandros, Kaikos, kephalos, keryx, kydon, libys, Mytilos, Norax, Orion, Paris, Paris, phaunos, polybos,saon

What I associate with him• rock music, bricks (he had two pet bricks that I had given him), dinosaurs, and wine (I promised to share my first cup of wine with him once I turn 21)

Prayers•

Safe travels

Swift-footed Hermes, friend of the traveler, friend of those who find themselves far from their homes, by will or by chance, I pray to you. Hermes, who moves between the realms with authority and ease, who leads men and women on their last, longest journey, who stands at the crossroad, who watches the byways, in you I place my trust, for by your might I know that when I stumble I will rise again, that when I choose my way I will choose aright. Hermes, as I make my way through the world, whether I wander or whether I walk my path with care, be with me.

In general

Hermes of the ready wit and the lightning smile, wing-footed one who carries the words of the gods, compassionate one who guides the newly-dead to the hall of Hades and fair Persephone, quick-thinking one who takes interest in the world and works of mankind, whose hand we see in a run of luck and a clever scheme, I call to you. Hermes, bearer of the herald’s staff, your gifts are great. You guard our homes with constancy and care, you grant to us a portion of your own craft and wile, you join with us when we revel and are merry, you stand with us when we are far from home, alone. You are ever with us, O Hermes; O god who holds in hand the good of men, I honor you.

hestia & hermes for good money

I call to Hermes, god of the marketplace, god of the the deal, from whose hands fall shining coins. I call to Hestia, goddess of the home, goddess of good management, who knows the ways of thrift. Grant me a keen eye to spot a bargain, I pray; grant that I know false economy from true. Grant me the craft to repair what is broken, grant me the sufficiency to save for what may come. Grant me the wisdom to live with care, O gods, the discipline and skill to live within my means; grant me the wit to know my needs and my desires, grant me the judgment to know the difference.

sources - https://twelfthremedy.tumblr.com/post/621849449656942592/hermes-offerings/amp

Wikipedia. “Agetor.” Wikipedia, the Free Encyclopedia. Wikipedia, 10 Nov. 2010. Web. 12 May 2011. http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Agetor.

Burkert, Walter. “The Gods.” Greek Religion. Basil Blackwell and Harvard UP, 1985. 156-59. Print.

The original book was published in Germany as Griechische Religion der archaischen und klassischen Epoche. by Verlag W. Kohlhammer, Stuttgart, copyright year 1977

1b) Atsma, Aaron J. “ESTATE, ATTRIBUTES & ATTENDANTS OF HERMES : Greek Mythology.” THEOI GREEK MYTHOLOGY, Exploring Mythology & the Greek Gods in Classical Literature & Art. 2000. Web. 13 Apr. 2011. http://www.theoi.com/Olympios/HermesTreasures.html, Wikipedia. “Agonius.” Wikipedia, the Free Encyclopedia. Wikipedia, 10 Nov. 2010. Web. 12 May 2011. http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Agonius, Wikipedia. “Agoraea.” Wikipedia, the Free Encyclopedia. Wikipedia, 26 June 2010. Web. 12 May 2011. http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Agoraeus, Wikipedia. “Chthonius.” Wikipedia, the Free Encyclopedia. Wikipedia, the Free Encyclopedia, 20 June 2011. Web. 26 June 2011. http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Chthonius,Wikipedia. “Hermes Trismegistus.” Wikipedia, the Free Encyclopedia. Wikipedia, the Free Encyclopedia, 9 June 2011. Web. 26 June 2011. http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Hermes_Trismegistus., “Kriophoros.” Wikipedia, the Free Encyclopedia. Wikipedia, the Free Encyclopedia, 11 June 2011. Web. 26 June 2011. http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Kriophoros, Wikipedia. “Leucus.” Wikipedia, the Free Encyclopedia. Wikipedia, the Free Encyclopedia, 13 Feb. 2011. Web. 26 June 2011. http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Leucus, Atsma, Aaron J. “ESTATE, ATTRIBUTES & ATTENDANTS OF HERMES : Greek Mythology.” THEOI GREEK MYTHOLOGY, Exploring Mythology & the Greek Gods in Classical Literature & Art. 2000. Web. 13 Apr. 2011. http://www.theoi.com/Olympios/HermesTreasures.html, “CYLLENIUS, Greek Mythology Index.” MYTH INDEX, Greek Mythology. Myth Index, 2007. Web. 13 Apr. 2011. http://www.mythindex.com/greek-mythology/C/Cyllenius.html, Sannion. “Wildivine.org – Offeringsto Hermes.” Wildivine.org – Dionysos, Hermes, Nymphs and Pacific Northwest Polytheism. Wildvine.org. Web. 26 June 2011. http://www.wildivine.org/hermes_offerings.htm.1, Sannion. “Wildivine.org – Offerings to Hermes.” Wildivine.org – Dionysos, Hermes, Nymphs and Pacific Northwest Polytheism. Wildvine.org. Web. 12 May, http://www.wildivine.org/hermes_offerings.htm, Sannion. “Wildivine.org – Hermes’epithets.” Wildivine.org – Dionysos, Hermes, Nymphs and Pacific Northwest Polytheism. Wildvine.org. Web. 12 May 2011. http://www.wildivine.org/hermes_epithets.htm.

https://greekpagan.com/category/prayers-2/hermes/

https://journal.uny.ac.id/index.php/diksi/article/download/49223/18693#:~:text=The%20red%20or%20green%20color,one%20of%20the%20Olympic%20gods.

travelingthief.tumblr.comhttps://www.tumblr.com/themodernwitchsguide

Hermes is the darling of the gods, and very important in everyday life, whether we know it or not, handsome in charm and looks, he is also knowledgeable about many things.

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dancingdonatello · 3 months

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Hi! I was wondering if you could do 2003 casey jones x vampire!reader? Like one day he goes to hang out with the boys and he freaks out when he realizes there’s a vampire with them and after a couple of days of him freaking out he’s like “damn I think I have a crush on them 🧍”

2003 casey jones x gn reader

“We’ve met literal aliens, Jones.”

“But they suck blood!”

Casey cowered behind Raph, staring at you who just sat on the couch and waited patiently for his freak out to end.

“We’ve met triceratops aliens, Casey,” Don piped up, handing you a dark reddish pouch.

Casey squinted at it before he gasped. “Is that BLOOD?”

“No,” you smiled, Casey definitely saw fangs, and took a tip. “Why would you think that?”

Casey shook harder behind Raph.

“Get offa me.” The turtle shrugged him off harshly.

It takes him a total of two days to become obsessed with you.

So what if he has a thing for sharp teeth and how your reflection doesn’t appear in mirrors?

So what if he finds it charming that you cannot enter his apartment unless specifically invited?

Raph says that he’s ‘down bad’ which he, unfortunately, has to agree with.

He tapes a poorly done drawing of you to one of his mirrors, just so you don’t feel left out. (That’s also how you figure out how ‘into’ you he is. That and finding a bunch of vampire novels under his bed once).

Okay. He’s not just attracted. He’s obsessed.

Once you’re aware of this, he doesn’t even bother to hide it. He asks you all about your ‘vampire abilities’ and all about wooden stakes and garlic and seriously, what’s the worst that could happen if you come in without asking? You would collapse into a pile of ashes would you? … Oh. You would.

By the end of the year, he’s read 10 more books than he’s ever had in his life. They are all related to vampires. Vampire erotica. Vampire romance. He’s never once fully read a book, page by page. He’s always ended up skipping chapters. However with these? He’s found that he is able to fully read a book. He finally stops hiding the books too and proudly makes a shelf for them.

Does he daydream about you sucking his blood? No.

Only once. He swears.

He does, however, daydream way more often about your fangs. If you say something and he catches a glimpse, his face goes all red and he can barely form a sentence.

You find it so charming how flustered he gets around you that you end up getting a crush on him as well. Casey finally has a chance of getting a vampire lover.

#casey jones x reader #tmnt x reader #tmnt casey jones x reader #tmnt 2003 x reader #vampire reader

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ravencincaide · 6 months

Text

Every little girl dreams..

Summary: No one dreams of this type of wedding, let alone wants one like it, and yet that’s the only one you’re getting. Or when you and Chuuya make the decision to stick to your original plan, even if it's the opposite from perfect.

Pairing: fem!Reader x Chuuya

Inspired by Sweetober prompt 9: Deep kissing

Warnings: Cursing and light angst

My attempt to crawl out of the writers block I'm sitting in.

Enjoy~

____

Every little girl dreams about their future wedding. A grand thing with dozens upon dozens of guests gathered to celebrate the union between two souls.The westerstyle church filled to the brim. A priest at the altar and the future husband waiting patiently for his soon-to-be wife. In this grand western style church, the pipe organ begins playing the all-too familiar wedding march.The flutter of flowers and the rustling of the white wedding dress as you walk down the aisle, past rows upon rows of gleeful faces of friends and family all wishing you the best, all envying you as you slowly stroll towards your happily ever after.

Or perhaps you'd envision a traditional wedding at the shrine dressed in layers of silk and fancy kimono swearing your oath more privately, reserved for the gods ears to hear. The celebration would come right after, where your friends and family would cheer for you as you and your beloved feed each other your first bites of cake. You could even settle for a small wedding: a private event reserved for just a handful of guests. Somewhere in exotic or exquisite flower gardens on bright green grass under the open skies. The grand dress, replaced with something simpler; like a suit or even a formal attire.

Yes, there were many things you wanted for your dream wedding. And there were many things you were willing to compromise on for the sake of tying the knot with that special someone. Yet this– this was not something that was a part of anyone's wedding plans. A gloomy bitter seemingly unplanned union that was your reality.

You glanced at yourself in the mirror. Your original attire was stained in blood and you were forced to improvise with what you had on hand:your workwear. A dark blue lace blouse with puffy sleeves and white pearl buttons, black skin-tight silky pants and high heels to match. You put your hair up in a bun and decorated it with matching white and blue pearls pins. You made sure to undo the top button in a feeble attempt to look less work-like and chose to forgo your usual black mafia coat. You spend a few moments wiping away the dirt from your heels and removing your chipped nail polish. As if fooling yourself into feeling pretty. you applied a small dot of the perfume sample you found in your pouch on your wrists and behind your ears. The scent was unfamiliar but not awful. You chose to keep your weapons on you however, for a ‘just in case’ scenario.

Then you strolled out of the cabinet-like room you borrowed.

The small wooden church on the outskirts of Yokohama was, like you, in an equally unimpressive state. Most of the wood around the church had rotten long ago; the benches in the mass halls on either side of the isle were broken, scorched or damaged. A few paces away was a gaping hole in the ceiling. Off to the side stood the pipe orgel ready to produce music but with no musician in sight. The altar was the only piece of the church that did not suffer any damage. If anything it looked cleaned and well-polished as if the priest had taken his time to clean this spot up while the two of you got ready.

The door to the right of the altar opened and two men stepped out: the priest and Chuuya.

Chuuya was dressed in his usual work attire which had taken a bit of beating during the previous fight: the clothes were not first freshnes with the exception of a clean white blouse underneath the gray vest. Even his black coat was ruffled; damaged from hundreds of bullets and weapons that had been sent flying towards him. Not injured but not completely unscratched either. The most pristine thing about him were his shoes: newly polished and sophisticated- a glimpse of the Chuuya you’ve always known.

Without a word he took a few steps away from the priest and towards the nearest bench. He tosses his coat onto it, then his guns and weapons.

“ Sweetheart I think we can survive without weapons for five minutes” Chuuya tried to lighten the mood with a joke as he beckoned you over. You followed his example of disarming yourself. Then you took his hand in yours and stepping up to the altar before the priest.

Chuuya didn’t bother lying that you looked stunning, beautiful or breathtaking on your wedding day and you didn’t bother lying to say he looked as handsome as always. You were thankful for this little bit of truth. You did take a moment to wipe away a drop of dried blood from the back of his neck before turning back to face the man with the bible. Chuuya squeezed your hand in reassurance and gratitude, and you did the same.

The priest ran his eyes from you, to Chuuya, and then lingered on your interlocked hands. He chose not to say anything about it.“ Are you two sure you would like to proceed with this marriage union right now and not wait until after the war?”

You looked at Chuuya, expecting him to scream ‘are you a fucking idiot?' 'abort' or ‘too low-quality’ instead he turned to you with a serious look on his eyes and a laidback playful smirk just itching to split his expression into something more familiar, loving and playful. A controlled chaos- a fire burning for you. You replied with a small smile and a squeeze of his hand. You could see Chuuya resisting the urge to drive his free hand into his pocket in a typical delinquent style- an attempt to hide his nervousness. Although it would not have mattered if he did that : with no guests or witnesses. There was no one but the priest to judge you two.

When the priest didn’t start, Chuuya finally broke the silence:“ if we’re going to be on the frontlines with no guarantees, then I’d much rather get formalities out of the way so we can stand together as husband and wife”

You gave his hand another squeeze in agreement before you spoke “ Father, we waited a long time to get married. It doesn’t have to be perfect or expensive, as long as we come out of here united in the eyes of the government, emperor and god.”

“ Have you prepared your wedding vows?” the priest asked with a small frown of disapproval.

“Ehh we’ll just do the traditional ones, right doll?” Chuuya looked the slightest bit flustered. As if he had completely forgotten that there was more to the ordeal than just showing up in front of the priest.

You could feel your heart drop in your stomach, anxiety spiking. Was this really all for nothing? The time you spend getting here all wasted over a forgotten piece of paper? You clutched Chuuya’s hand tighter in your own, while you silently prayed that the priest would still find it in his heart to help you two get married.

Your prayers were answered.

The priest opened the bible and stretched out pieces of paper towards you and Chuuya. Once copy each. “ I had that suspicion and brought copies with me. Alter them how you see fit so they feel more natural. The vows should come from the heart” The priest stood patiently as both of you read the vows through and altered them with a borrowed pen. Then he started the ceremony.

You both stood patiently and attentively listened to the priest: out of the corner of your eyes you could see Chuuya. He was trying his best to contain his emotion, the edges of his lips just itching to spread into a wide grin or nervous laughter. Who would have thought the deadliest and fanciest mafia executive would be getting married, with no friends or family, in such a dumpy church. Indeed the thought made you want to both laugh and cry all at once. Ohh the irony of life.

At the priest's motion you turned to face Chuuya as he spoke his promises of eternal love; in sickness and in health, through sorrows and laughs. Through poverty and bad decisions as well as blessings and good times: “And I promise to love you till death do us part, my Sweetheart”

You turned to face Chuuya as he took your hand in his hand and held it tightly. He then raised your hand and placed a golden band, adored with precious gems and intricate weaving of the metal on your finger.

You gripped his hand tighter, your heart soaring as you recited your vows. As you spoke of your promise to love him no matter the hardships, through sickness and health, through faithfulness and betrayal, through lies and truths. “ and until death do us part, my love”

You did the same for Chuuya, raising his hand, you tugged the glove off. You felt him tense ever so slightly and you squeezed his hand again, reassuringly before slipping the thick golden band on his bare finger. “ Just once, for a few moments, let it sit on your bare skin please” And he squeezed your hand in turn agreeing and accepting.

The priest held his breath before his face broke up into a smile: “ It is my pleasure to pronounce you husband and wife.” His eyes ran from your bright smile with tears threatening to spill from your eyes to Chuuya’s expression which matched your own. Incredibly happy, and unbelievably sad. When neither of you moved the priest urged you to, giving you his permission and blessings: “You may now kiss the bride”

The kiss that you shared was deeper and more passionate than what was appropriate in a church. But the priest merely averted his eyes to give you some privacy. After all this kiss signified both a joyful Hello to a new beginning and a mournful goodbye..

#bsd chuuya #chuuya nakahara x reader #chuuya x reader #sweetober #getting married #not a perfect wedding

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itsabouttimex2 · 7 months

Text

Pro-Hero!Izuku Midoriya:

With a little Quirkless vigilante, still a teenager.

There’s an endless well of determination in your eyes, and you swing your dented iron pipe with practiced ease, busting a villain’s knee to pieces. He crumples to the ground, screaming in pain as he drops his weapon. You kick it into the shadows, and heft the pipe above your head.

At the peak of your swing, a pair of strong hands tug it out of your grasp.

You spin around, reaching for a dingy little knife that’s been strapped to your waist during each and every last one of your midnight patrols, knowing you’ll need something to defend yourself with.

A black vine-ish thing snatches it out of the sheath before you get the chance, and holds the blade in the air, well out of your grasp. The man holding your pipe tosses the makeshift weapon into the air, and another vine catches it, keeping it up next to your knife.

“Easy, kiddo.” He hold both his hands out, showing you that he’s unarmed, and unlikely to harm you. “It’s gonna be okay.”

You believe him, to your surprise. He sounds warm, and so very kind. You drop your guard, a mistake you’ve never made before on these little patrols of yours.

He snatches you up, jumping off the ground in time to clear a surprise attack from the downed villain. You barely get hit by a spray of his acid, eating into the skin of your thigh as you bite back a scream.

The green-clad hero gently swings you onto his back, a load of vines wrapping around and immobilizing the villain. You wrap your arms around his neck, trying to steady your pained breathing as tears sting the corners of your eyes.

A powerful blow to the villain’s head leaves him unconscious but alive and without permanent damage, and the hero makes a quick call to the police station to have the criminal picked up.

Everything occurs so dizzyingly fast that you have no argument when he walks out of the dirty alleyway with you still on his back. He gently ferries you to a little bench before sitting you down, smiling reassuringly at you.

“You aren’t in trouble,” he warmly starts. “But I want you to answer a few questions for me, okay?” He pulls a roll of packaged bandages from one of his pouches, and a bottle of antiseptic from another.

He looks you in the eyes while he unwraps the bandages and twists open the antiseptic, his massive arms flexing with each movement. “What’s your name, kiddo?”

“Y/N.”

He begins to clean the acid burns, wincing in sympathy as you flinch in pain. “Shh, shh. It’s okay. Is this the only place you’re hurt? Did he get you anywhere else?”

“N-no. And I had him taken care of.”

“Of course,” he sweetly reassures. “Of course you did, Y/N. Now, deep breaths, in and out.”

You do as asked, before sharply hissing as he tightly wraps the cleaned wound, your leg throbbing from the tight constriction.

“There we go, all fixed up!”

“Thank you, Mr…?” You look at him, trying to get a clear view of his face through the darkness of the night, wishing there was a streetlight nearby to illuminate your surroundings.

“Midoriya,” he answers, watching your face pale at his answer.

A Pro-Hero. Japan’s number one Pro-Hero, Deku. And he’s right here in front of you, a vigilante who’s been fighting criminals and villains for the better part of the last year.

When you stand to run, he grabs you by the shoulders and sits you back down on the bench.

“I’m not mad,” he says. “And like I said, you aren’t in trouble. So please sit still and listen to me.”

Nervously, you look up at him, not moving from your spot on the bench.

“I’m sure you understand that being a vigilante is dangerous, and causes trouble for both yourself and Pro-Heroes all around, don’t you? So please tell me, truthfully, why you chose to do this.”

When you pause and look away, he places a comforting hand on your shoulder, gently squeezing it. “Be honest with me, okay? Maybe saying it out loud will make you feel better. I’ll listen to you, I promise.”

“…this is the closest I’ll ever get to being a hero.”

He moves to sit beside you, wrapping an arm around your shoulders with a soft smile. You feel both trapped and safe, but don’t have time to think on those feelings before he pushes a water bottle against your lips. “Drink up,” he gently says. “You’ve earned some rest.”

You know better than to accept food or drink from a stranger. It could be laced, or even outright poisoned. More than a few times, food left out for you has been tampered with, and now you just source all your needs yourself. Food, water, clothing. Even the tiny little abandoned warehouse you found to live in, you had to fix up as best you could with your own two hands.

You’re hurt. You’re tired. And after answering that question of his, you’re a little sad, too. What’s the harm in accepting a sip of water from a genuinely kind and heroic man?

It’s the sweetest water you’ve ever tasted.

Everything after that is a blur.

#Yandere Platonic MHA #Yandere Platonic #Yandere Platonic Deku #Yandere Platonic Izuku Midoriya #Yandere Deku #Yandere Izuku Midoriya #tw: drugging

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