To Sail the High Seas: England x Reader ch33Chapter 33More Like This
The steaming water sloshed over the edge of the copper tub as you scrubbed furiously at your already raw skin, trying to rid yourself of an intangible filth. When you’d first entered the inn, it had only taken the well-groomed innkeeper a second to whisk you up to the finest room available and call his wife, a stout but friendly woman, to run you a hot bath. Gold worked wonders in this city.
Finally giving up on ridding yourself of the feeling of having been dirtied, realising that it would be impossible no matter how thickly you lathered the sweet-scented soap onto your body, you dropped the cloth into the water glumly. Your thoughts turned back to the recently revealed identity of your father’s killer and you shuddered despite the bathwater’s heat. A murderous urge rose from the depths of your mind and your fingers twitched. You half wondered if this burning violence had always been a part of your nature, or if it was the growing pirate in you. At
To Sail the High Seas: England x Reader ch28Chapter 28More Like This
As soon as the door to the dingy room swung open, its sole prisoner tensed. His eyes were downcast to the floor, and it you could tell that the brunet had been struggling against his restraints by the dark bruises which were forming on his wrists. He was frightened, you realised, and having been in a similar situation yourself not too long ago, you could understand why with painful clarity. Pirate or not, the position he was currently in was not a favourable one.
“Calm down, it’s only me.”
“Señorita?” He looked up at you with confusion evident in his pretty eyes, and this only grew when he noticed that you were alone.
“He’s not coming back, at least not for a while. He needs to cool his head.”
“We’ve known each other such a short time, and yet you have amazed me more times than I can count. Who exactly are you again?”
“I’m just me.” You gave a small shrug before sitting beside the
HetaliaxReader - Need A Hug? - EnglandMore Like This
His room was only a few doors down from yours so it only took a couple of steps to find his door, number 222. Knowing Arthur he would be asleep, dead to the world even with the storm raging on outside because he grew up with storms and rain.
That wasn’t the problem though. The problem was that you had no idea if he’d help you or not since sometimes he could help you out like the gentleman he is but sometimes he could be well, a bit of a grumpy old man. You just hoped he was in a good mood as you held your fist to the door.
You rapped on the door three times. “Arthur,” you called quietly hoping your voice wouldn’t break. You couldn’t hear any response from inside the room.
As you were about to knock again the door opened slowly. In the frame was Arthur, his blond tussled hair even more messy and he was wearing a shirt that read keep calm and drink more tea and green pyjama bottoms.
EnglandxReader - The Annual Family Camp Part 2More Like This
You had been wondering the forest for at least half an hour now, trying to look for Arthur. The two of you still had to figure out how you would share the tent, but he had disappeared before you could ask him about it. Matthew had told you he had wondered off into the forest, maybe to get some down time.
“Or maybe he saw an elf or something like that,” you grumbled to yourself as you walked out into the fifth clearing that you had found.
Trees surrounded a grassy area. Flowers sprung from the ground, small insects could be seen playing about them. At the end of the clearing was a stream, supplying cold and fresh water. Suddenly you felt thirsty, your throat dry and gasping for relief. You began to walk to the stream when you noticed that someone was standing in the middle of it, waist deep and looking up to the sky. He wore no shirt and his somewhat thinly body dripped with the cold water, making it gleam in the sunlight. So this is where Arthur had disappeared to.
To Sail the High Seas: England x Reader ch21Chapter 21More Like This
You hadn’t protested as the Captain gathered you up in his arms, being too emotionally drained to do so, and you soon let yourself be dragged down into the depths of exhaustion. Cradling your limp form against his chest, Arthur carefully placed you within the sheets of his bed and climbed in beside you, protectively wrapping his arms around your waist and drawing you closer to him. Your unconscious form snuggled closer to his warmth, and the distressed expression you wore softened a little. Bringing one hand up to your cheek, he let his thumb trace the tear stains lightly, wishing he could erase them altogether. The darkened cabin was peaceful, the only sounds being the waves that gently rocked the ship like a cradle, and the occasional whimpers which you emitted through slightly parted lips.
Though the time he had spent in your company was short - only a little more than a fortnight - it had been long enough that the green-eyed man recognised your vulnerability
De Morte Ad Vitam - Ch. 8Undertaker hopped down from the driver’s seat and pulled the tarp up. Vincent appeared to be sleeping peacefully, curled up in the blankets with his cheek pillowed on his hands. For a moment, the reaper just watched him with a nostalgic, aching little smile. It amazed him as much now as it did before, seeing a grown man look so blasted innocent. He was loathe to wake him, but the rumble of thunder was picking up again, along with the wind. They’d passed through a brief shower during the trip, but by the looks of it they were in for a lot worse, very soon.More Like This
"Vincent," called the mortician, hopping lightly into the back of the wagon. He squatted down to gently shake his shoulder to wake him. Out of sheer precaution, he also placed two fingers against his neck to be sure he still had a pulse. He breathed a sigh of relief when he felt it, steady and strong. "Wake up, love. We’ve arrived. Sorry to say it’s not much to look at, but it’s sturdy enough and I recent