#but imagine the completely flooring dread they must have felt in that moment

[medlarmeadows]

/// spoilers for jrwi riptide ep 114

i wonder how jay and chip felt when gillion disappeared up the ladder. in a split second, they'd lost their best friend again. for the third time, if you count kuba kenta's curse.

even worse, jay and chip discovered pieces of his flesh on the floor. there wasn't a trail that could help them track down where gillion had been dragged off to, so they were left with no real direction to go, just like when they were in the feywild. only this time, they had some fleshy keepsakes to stare at.

then gillion returned, and they were overwhelmed with the need to protect their best friend. they were so fixated on the fact that he was back and alive that they completely glossed over how undamaged he was for someone who recently lost a pound of flesh.

that relief clouded chip's better judgement as he let gillion split them off from jay, take him back to the lab with leviathan bones, and seal up the door behind them. as the doppelganger dropped his act, and as jay mulled over the words she heard one floor above, ice crept up their spines and into their minds.

because if this thing wasn't the real gillion, then where was he?

did they lose him for real this time?

[moonstruckme]

Hi 🥺 can I pretty please ask for a fic with emt!marauders treating and helping reader get through getting stitches? Maybe having a huge fear of needles and they always make her so faint and nauseous so the boys fix up their clumsy girl and coach her through getting them because it’s just the absolute worst time ever?

Hi lovely, thank you for requesting! These always get so long because I get wrapped up in the semantics haha. I don’t think this is an accurate reflection of how things work for paramedics, but for the purposes of fiction we’re gonna ignore that :3

Cw: needles, hospital, mention of nausea

emt!marauders x fem!reader ♡ 2.1k words

James is murmuring what you imagine to be placations into the side of your head, so quietly you can’t make them out, and you’re doing your best to keep your hand completely still as a nurse cleans the cut on your palm. 

Sirius is watching you from beside the small bed with tension written all over him. He’s digging his fingernails into his biceps and looking like he might actually jump the nurse if she makes a wrong move. 

“Where’s Remus?” he asks, not for the first time. 

“He’s just finishing up with another patient,” she answers again. “He’ll be here shortly.” 

As eager as you are to see your boyfriend, dread curls like vines around your ribcage. James, sensing this, presses his lips to your temple. 

Ordinarily, paramedics don’t handle stitches, but at your request and after some sweet-talking on James’ part, the director agreed to let Remus see to you. What was staunchly not allowed, however, was for anyone not currently on shift to step in, so your remaining two boyfriends are stuck providing emotional support. James seems to be taking this better, whereas Sirius has been antsy and overprotective since you’d arrived. 

A fraction of the tautness in his biceps dissipates when a familiar set of quick footsteps draws closer on the tiled floor outside your curtain. The nurse is the only one who doesn’t seem to notice, the three of you perking up like meerkats the moment before Remus pulls back the curtain, stepping inside. 

“Hi,” he says, a small, automatic smile curving his lips at the sight of all of you. 

The nurse finishes with perfect timing, tossing the wipe into the trash as she starts to leave. You and Remus both thank her, and once the curtain closes the four of you in together everything feels suddenly more right. You hear James sigh softly.

Remus gets closer than he was willing with a colleague present, wrapping a kind hand around your elbow and soothing upward from there. “Hi, darling,” he says again, softer now. “They tell me you’ve had a kitchen accident.” 

“Totally intentional,” James jokes. “We all just really missed you, needed an excuse to visit.” 

You try to laugh for his sake, and though it’s not fully felt it still helps to loosen the knot of unease in your chest. 

Remus smiles gently. His thumb strokes up and down the back of your arm. “How are you doing?” he asks you. 

You do your best to smile back at him, though from Sirius’ expression it must not be very good. “Honestly? I already feel kind of nauseous.” 

“That’s okay,” he promises, and you can tell he’s making his voice extra low and smooth on purpose. Any other time you might laugh at him for it, but actually it’s quite helpful. “It makes sense to be a bit nervous, yeah? But you won’t feel anything, and so long as you don’t look at it while I’m working I think we’ll be all right.” 

Remus looks you in the eyes for a moment longer to make sure you understand. His eyes are the color of tea steeped just the way you like it, warm and honey-sweet. And maybe you’re feeling vulnerable and mushy, but you think you fall a little more in love with him. 

You nod, letting him take your injured hand. 

“I have to numb it,” he warns you, “and that will likely be the hardest part, but once it’s done things will go fairly easily. Okay?” 

You press your lips together, nodding again not because you want to but because you know you don’t have much choice. James readjusts his hold on you, gripping you tightly with one arm around your shoulders and the other folding your head into his chest. You suspect it’s partly to keep you from moving and partly because he knows you need it, but it feels as though he’s just doing his best to give you a continual hug. You appreciate the effort. 

You follow the movement of Remus’ hand as he picks up a syringe from the tray the nurse had brought in. There’s that odd tingly feeling of the blood draining from your face, the awful queasiness in your stomach. 

“Don’t look,” Sirius tells you, voice just as caring as it is tense. You can tell he’s trying to calm himself for your sake, even if he’s not very good at it. You’ve heard from James and Remus that he’s cool as a cucumber when he works with other patients, but when it’s you or someone he cares about he can’t help getting a bit rattled. “You’re okay, baby, just close your eyes. Think of something else.” 

You can manage the first but not the second. When you feel Remus shifting his hold on your hand your breaths shallow. 

“Quick poke,” he murmurs, and your grip on James tightens as his does on you. 

Though you think you’re prepared for it, a mortifying pained sound rises in your throat at the sting. Both James and Sirius coo sympathetically, but then it’s done, and Remus is murmuring praises while James presses kiss after kiss into your hair. 

You open your eyes to find Sirius has moved closer. He passes you a vomit bag, and you take it thankfully, trying to breathe through the closure in your throat. 

“You’ve got it,” he tells you, brows knit together by both sympathy and concern. “You’re okay, it’s already over with.” 

“I don’t really feel like I’m completely out of the woods,” you try to joke. The truth to it tightens something in you nonetheless. 

“You won’t even feel the rest,” James assures you, still with his lips stuck to you like it’s his job. He smells nice, his eucalyptus shampoo cutting through the icky hospital scent. “You’ll hardly know it’s happening, lovie, we’ll just talk about other things and be out of here before you know it.” 

“I really don’t want to faint,” you say. “I feel like today has been bad enough without fainting.” 

“I’m inclined to agree,” says Remus. You’ve been avoiding looking at him, wary of catching sight of another needle or worsening your nausea by seeing your cut, but his gloved hands are empty. He cradles your injured hand in one, the other drawing a tranquilizing path up and down the side of your thigh. “You won’t faint, sweetheart. We’ll do our best to keep you distracted, and if you need to take breaks we can do that. It’s whatever you need.” 

You blow out a long breath, nodding. Remus gives you a small smile. 

“I only ask that you don’t hold any of this against me,” he teases. “I’m going to require lots of assurance that you’re not upset when I get home.” 

James coos, sounding like he’s considering pulling Remus into your hug as well. 

“No, I know this is all my own fault,” you admit. Sirius huffs his agreement. “I could never hold my clumsiness against you.” 

“I appreciate that.” Remus sends Sirius an intrigued look. “Though maybe I’ll have to make it up to you by cooking, since it seems like you could be barred from the kitchen for some time. Can you feel that?” 

You blink at him. “Feel what?” 

“Good.” 

Remus starts messing with things on the tray again, and both James and Sirius seem to come to attention, James putting his arm around your head again while Sirius pulls up a chair by the bed. 

“The medicine’s working,” Remus tells you, “so I’m going to go ahead and get started, okay? Just try and relax for me, sweetheart.” 

Your eyes go automatically to what he’s doing, but Sirius says sharply, “Hey.” 

That gets your attention, and he gives you an apologetic look, gentling his tone as he takes your good hand. 

“Just look at me,” he tells you. You don’t know if he knows it, but his thumb is tracing a line below your thumb that’s exactly where your cut is on your other palm. “Are you okay to talk, pretty girl?” 

You hum. It comes out high-pitched and shakier than you would’ve expected. 

“Why don’t you tell us about that book you want Remus to read?” 

For a moment, surprise eclipses your anxiety. “You really wanna hear about that?” 

Sirius grins. “No, but you’ve got a captive audience. If I were you I’d seize my chance.” 

You start to smile back at him, but then there’s an odd tugging sensation on your hand. Sirius notices the change, moving to block your view with his hand before you can look towards Remus’ work. Still, your stomach rolls uneasily. Your head feels unnaturally light. 

Sirius says your name firmly. “Tell us about the book, baby.” 

“It’s…” You fight to solidify your thoughts. “It’s a true story.” 

“Yeah?” 

“Yeah. I thought it was fiction, but it’s not.” Another tug, and you whimper. “Sorry, I don’t feel well.” 

“You’re doing great,” James says, and Sirius takes the bag from you, opening it up in case you need it. “Just stay relaxed, we’ve got you.” 

“What’s the true story?” Sirius asks, trying to get you back on task. “What’s it about?” 

“This guy,” you answer. “He’s from Syria, but he lives in New Orleans and he’s there when Hurricane Katrina hits. I’m not that far in, but so far it’s about, like—” you swallow “—how he’s discriminated against even when he’s helping people.” 

Though you try to stop it, a tear skids down your cheek. Sirius wipes it away gently. “Yeah?” he asks you. “Are you liking it so far?” 

You nod, feeling more in your own body as you try to focus on the conversation. Even the panic is a bit of a relief, better than the strange weightlessness of your head when you’re on the brink of passing out. 

“I don’t think I would have picked it up if I’d known it was nonfiction,” you tell Sirius. He smiles wryly, which looks like it takes effort. “I usually only read fiction, but this was done really well.” 

“I think you’re right,” he replies. “Remus absolutely should read that.” 

“Not you?” James teases. 

Sirius shoots a mean look over your head, though you can tell he’s relieved at the familiar banter. “Are you volunteering?” he asks James. “No? Didn’t think so.” 

“Surely there’s a movie version we can watch instead. Lovie, do you know?” 

“I haven’t heard of one,” you admit, “but the book’s a bit older, so maybe the movie came out before I’d heard about it.” 

“We’ll have to look it up,” Sirius decides. “If it’s really that good, there’ll be a movie.” 

That’s something you could argue about forever, and he knows it, but just then you hear something snip and Remus says, “There.” 

“There?” you echo. 

Sirius looses a breath, and James hugs you tightly. “You’re all done, angel,” he says brightly. 

“Oh.” You feel, perhaps, not as relieved as you ought to, and Sirius chuckles at your confusion, taking your face between his hands and planting a kiss between your brows. 

“You really are done,” he promises you. “You killed it, babe.” 

James loosens his grip on you and Sirius moves his hand, letting you turn your head to see Remus securing a bandage over your palm. He looks up at you when he pulls off his gloves, pride and fondness mingled in his expression. His eyes narrow at the look on your face. 

“Hug?” he guesses, and you nod as you sit forward, wrapping your hands around his shoulders. 

It’s the closure you need, relief dissolving the tension in your muscles and gut as Remus’ thumb strokes your nape reassuringly. “Thanks,” you mumble into his shoulder. 

“You did it, darling,” he tells you. “Nothing to thank me for.” 

“Before I bled all over our counter, I was cutting tomatoes for pasta tonight,” you say. “I’ll finish it up when I get home so I can thank you with dinner.” 

Sirius scoffs loudly. “Yeah, fat chance. You’re not going near another knife for the rest of your life.” 

You roll your eyes as you pull away from Remus, but he raises an eyebrow at you, smiling faintly. “I’m with him on this one,” he says. “At least a temporary kitchen ban is in order.” 

You groan, leaning sideways until your shoulder rests on James’ chest. He wraps his arms around you automatically. “You guys are so lame,” you gripe. 

“Don’t worry, lovie,” says James, kissing the side of your nose lightly. “I’ll finish your pasta when we get home. Everybody wins.”

[my-adhd-gremlin-blog]

I wrote a short one-shot for Dead Boy Detectives after @miss-alice-evelynn and I agreed that Edwin deserved all the cuddles and soft forehead kisses (from Charles). This is that fic. It's pure fluff. Enjoy!

It had been a long day. A long few weeks. An even longer death.

Ghosts didn't need sleep, but Edwin was tired. Right down to his very bones, exhaustion consumed him. Or, what used to be his bones. He didn't have the capacity to think about ghost nuances at that moment. All he wanted to do was rest, in whatever manner that he could.

Edwin sunk to the floor of the office. It was nice to be back in London, but everything felt different now. Good, and bad. He let all of it wash over him as he closed his eyes, taking a long, deep breath.

The wooden floor creaked, dust swirling up from the rug as footsteps approached. "Weird place for a kip, mate," said Charles.

Edwin opened his eyes and stared him down. "Obviously, I'm not sleeping, Charles. I'm thinking. Or rather, I'm trying not to think, but thoughts are coming to me anyway."

Charles chuckled, sitting down on the floor next to Edwin, back against the wall. Their knees knocked together as he settled.

"I'm not going to ask what it is that you're trying not to think about, because that would be a stupid question. We've had a rough go of it recently, haven't we? But I'm here for you, Edwin, if you need to talk about stuff."

Edwin let out a deep sigh. His fists started to clench; Charles rested a hand on his arm for comfort.

"It's just that, after all the hurt and... confusion," Edwin spared a quick sideways glance towards Charles, "I've experienced as of late, I feel that - don't I deserve a break? Don't we all deserve a break? But thinking that makes me feel horrible, because if we weren't on cases, who would help the souls in need?"

Charles moved in closer to Edwin, moving his arm around his shoulders. "Mate, you've just survived Hell, again, withstood actual torture from a psychotic witch, and you accepted a whole new part of yourself. That's huge, man. Being queer wasn't exactly a walk in the park in my era, either, but for you... I can't even imagine how dreadful it must have been. I'm not sure if I told you this, but I am so bloody proud of you."

"It doesn't feel like an achievement. It still feels so scary," said Edwin. "Charles, the last thing I want to do is make you uncomfortable. If you need some space from me, I can -"

"No!" Charles pulled Edwin even closer to him. "Edwin, you are so special to me. My death would have been a whole lot harder if you hadn't been there. I don't want you to go anywhere. Not without me."

Edwin leaned into Charles' touch, letting his head fall onto his shoulder. "Feelings are hard, and complicated."

A breath of laughter escaped from Charles. "You got that right." He rested his cheek stop Edwin's head. "Of course you deserve a break, mate. We have time now. You can close your eyes again, if you want."

"Do you not have better things to do than sitting here with me, on the dusty office floor?"

Charles turned his head, fingers coming up to brush the hair out of Edwin's eyes. "Nothing is more important than you, mate."

As Edwin's eyes fluttered shut again, Charles placed a gentle kiss against his forehead. "Ain't no rest for the wicked, eh?"

A quiet smile spread across Edwin's lips. "There's certainly no rest for the damned."

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

Just some totally platonic floor time for Edwin. Yep. Completely platonic. It's normal to kiss the homies goodnight 🤣

[whinlatter]

reading | listening | writing | spring 2023

wanted to share just a few of the incredible fics i've enjoyed reading in the past few months, some songs i'm loving writing to, and share some writing updates (including a sneak peek of Beasts chapter 4...)

Reading...

perimeter walks by @evesaintyves (remadora, completed multi-chapter, DH) 🦊

truly some of the most artful, delicate and tender fic writing i've ever read - a series of exquisite portraits exploring family and domesticity told through remus and dora's experiences in hiding. let me tell you i will rec this until i am blue in the face (bonus mention to the author's equally excellent it's just what you do to get by, a remus-pov oneshot about his experiences living among the werewolves during HBP, that floored me)

Animals by @turanga4 (remus and firenze friendship oneshot) 🌲

thought this was such an inventive conceit for a piece, beautifully executed, framed around a series of meetings between these two characters throughout remus' life, including in the forest.

something so tender (i can't explain) by @incalculablepower (Romione, oneshot) 💭

'is this the moment?' - man i loved this. it's about daydreams and different ways romione touch before the kiss, and just attends to hermione's hopes and imagination and fantasy life through a series of HBP-DH missing moment vignettes (aka my favourite things ever). there are turns of phrase all over this that made me gasp. huge huge fan of this piece

Lux Aurumque by @saintsenara (Sirius POV, oneshot) 🌅

'Seven dawns that change Sirius Black.' this is a really excellent, moving, driving character study that hollowed me out and has stayed with me long after that first read. a must-read, honestly

Surrender by @greenhousethree (Ginny POV, oneshot, set during DH) 🛏️

ohhhh how I loved this - it explores ginny's experiences of torture and trauma during DH, with some gorgeous hinny moments in there too. this fic has seared into my brain i swear

Birds of Paradise by eldritcher (Dumbledore and Fawkes friendship oneshot) 🪺

i know i've got beasts on the brain at the moment, but this fic blew me away - it's told from fawkes' pov, and it's just this completely brilliant exploration of dumbledore and fawkes' bond but also the politics of revolution. go with it, it's so so worth your time

She Thinks by @mightbewriting (Romione, twoshot, post-DH) 🏡

ron and hermione, building and rebuilding after the war, thinking about families and futures - i'm late to this one but this is just exquisite. also the smut is like strangely moving, can't explain it, just beautifully done and integrated into the arc of the fic. officially obsessed with this

Listening...

desire, i want to turn into you (album) - caroline polachek (whole album is a knock-out, smoke is song of the year fight me. also a dido feature!!)

the record (album) - boygenius (not strong enough is the other song of the year)

today (can't help but cry) - gretel hänlyn (and this is the song of the summer)

boyhood - the japanese house (every time i play this it makes my heart hurt)

free - florence & the machine (it picks me up/it puts me down ❤️‍🔥)

Writing...

wrote a couple of procrastination microfics, then smushed em together edited a smidge and put them up on ao3 as think / hope, a sad lil hinny post-breakup dual pov oneshot. thank you so much for the love for this funny lil fic, i had so much fun putting these together & felt good to work different muscles!

(...and a sneak peek)

now... about these Beasts...

chapter four is very very nearly done (whisper it). unusually for me i am really excited to share this chapter (you know, mixed in with the usual dread, let's not get ahead of ourselves). not to sound too cloying and sincere but spending time in ginny's head is just making me feel so energised and fulfilled at the moment, having a ball writing this. anyhoooo i've put a very small sneak peek below. don't wanna give away too much good stuff but just wanted to share a taste... spoilers below the cut!

‘We tend to think of ourselves like that, don’t we?’ At the window, Graves looks out across the grounds, to the crumbling dry stone walls guiding the empty paths up the mountains. ‘We think we’re the same person forever. We say: this is who I am, this is how I think, this is typically how I behave and respond to the world around  me. We believe, fundamentally, in the fixed and stable self - that we are one person for the duration of our mortal life.�� He turns back to the class.  ‘But what do you all think? Are we just one person in a lifetime? Is there some great, immutable core to a person that dictates who we are throughout the course of our lives? Or might we change, or grow, or be somehow altered by our experiences? Might we be many things? I wonder whether we lack a clear sense of just how much we can change in one lifetime. Perhaps we are the least well placed to track the trajectory, the journey of our own soul, after all. I am not so convinced we see ourselves, our own souls, very clearly — though, of course, it matters that we believe we do.’

[mango-fizz]

anyway so this is a wip i have that i dont think i'll ever really finish? but i wanted to share it anyway. this is based on some tags that user @luci-is-currently-loving-bees left on one of my posts because i shit you not i thought about that for like two weeks straight. this was supposed to be part of a 5+1 things but i couldnt come up with uh the other 5 things skhdkfhlkhskd so yeah anyway i didnt want it to just sit in my docs gathering dust so here it is

Marie startles awake.

She breathes heavily, trying to steady her heartbeats. She's still in her room. 

She rubs her eyes. It was just a dream. The same dream, again. But it's fine, because Four got her back, safe and sound. They both got her back. She’s been back for weeks now. 

Then why is it still hard to breathe? 

Sunlight is streaming through the cracks in her curtains, and yet the apartment is deafeningly quiet. She checks the time on her phone. Callie should be making breakfast by now. 

No, it's fine. Everything is fine. She just… overslept. Yeah. That happens sometimes. Silly Callie. 

That doesn't stop the suffocating sense of dread from making itself at home in her throat. She swallows it down. 

It's fine. It's fine. She's just going to check. She flings her covers off and leaves her room.

Callie's door is closed. She takes a few breaths before clearing her throat and knocking with trembling hands. No response. Callie must not have heard such a weak knock. She turns the handle.

"Callie, you dummy, did you oversleep again?"  

The room is empty. Callie's bed is neatly made.

Her hand squeezes the door handle as the panic starts to set in. No, no, no, no, no, no. She rushes down the hallway.

"Cal!" 

She starts panting as tears well up in her eyes. This can't be happening. The apartment is completely empty. 

"Callie!" she calls one more time for good measure, as if Callie was hiding somewhere, waiting to come out and surprise her. Marie falls to her knees. 

Callie was supposed to be back. Four had gotten her back! Unless she was taken again, from right under her nose this time. She was taken again while she was sleeping, and she failed to protect her again. She failed again, and now she was taken. 

It's all her fault. It always will be. Marie curls into herself as she sobs.

What a wretched sister she is.

Maybe Callie had never come back to begin with. Maybe she had imagined everything. It was too good to be true, after all. 

She needs to call Four, they need to continue the search. She doesn't know what to do. She can't keep going like this. She's nothing without Callie. She's never felt more lonely in her life.

She takes out her phone and looks for Four in her contacts, but it's hard when her sight is blurred with tears. 

Four picks up. "Yo, Marie! What's up?"

Marie takes a shaky breath, staring at the tiled floor.

"Hey, are you alright?" Four's tone turns soft. 

She can't stop crying. She manages, "We need to find... C-Callie..." 

"Callie? She's right next to me."

Marie gasps between sobs. "...Where?"

"We went grocery shopping. I'm here with Callie and Agent 3. We left you a note on the kitchen counter."

Marie didn't notice. She didn't even think of checking for such a thing. 

She feels stupid. 

"Is Callie okay?"

"Yeah, she's fine." Then, after a moment, "...Want me to put her on?"

She hums a quiet "Mhm," while she wipes at her eyes. She really does feel dumb about this. Her, a grown squid, crying over something like this. Stupid, stupid Marie.

She hears Four's muffled voice saying "Callie! Marie wants to talk to you," before sounds of the phone being passed around. 

"Hiiii~! What's up?" 

She sighs heavily in relief. Callie's fine. 

"Are you coming home soon?"

"Yup! We're almost done, we just need a few more things. Three wandered off again so we gotta go find them, too."

"...Okay."

“You okay?”

“...Yeah. Sorry.”

There’s a long silence on the other end of the line before Callie presses, “You sure?”

Marie caves. “No,” then, “Are you coming home soon?”

“Yeah. …Sorry for making you worry.”

“I’m sorry.”

Callie sighs with an almost imperceptible sadness. Almost. “I told you to stop apologizing, Marie.”

“I miss you.”

“I miss you too. We’ll come back soon, I promise. Three says hi, by the way.”

The phone gets passed around again.

“Bye Marie! Hope you feel better!” comes Four’s cheery voice before she hangs up. 

Marie stares blankly at her reflection on the screen. 

[legends-of-time]

Amelia’s Story (BBC Merlin Story)

Chapter 39: The Eye of the Phoenix

Masterlist

Amelia's POV

Amelia and Gwen find Anne and Merlin in the Antechamber to the side of the Throne room, peeking their heads through the doors.

They come up behind them and the four of them watch Arthur, in a white ceremonial robe, kneel in the Throne room.

"What's he actually doing?" Gwen whispers.

"Thinking," Anne replies.

"About?"

Amelia can imagine the sly look on Merlin's face as he replies, "You."

Gwen hits him and Amelia snorts.

"Shhh." Merlin hisses as he closes the door while the others snigger.

Merlin turns to Amelia and Gwen once the door is closed. "He has to decide upon a quest."

"Wait is this the one where he has to 'transcend' his body so he gets a vision of the quest?" Amelia pulls a face as she speaks.

Gwen looks at her confused. "How's crouching on his knees all night going to help?"

"Somehow it does," Anne mutters.

"And both of you are going to stay here and watch him?" Gwen asks looking amused.

"Gwen, this is one of the most important days in a prince's life." Merlin retorts.

"Oh." Gwen presses her lips together so as not to laugh while Amelia doesn't bother at all.

——

Amelia tries to hold in her laugh when she finds Anne and Merlin asleep on the floor the next morning as she follows Uther and the Council down the steps and into the Throne room, which causes the couple to wake.

Uther touches Arthur's shoulder, startling him out of the trance. "It is time." He declares. Arthur stands and turns to them. "What is the quest you have chosen?"

"I can see but one path, Sire. I am to enter the realm of the Fisher King and find the golden trident spoken of in the legends of The Fallen Kings." Arthur announces.

"You do understand that if you are to prove yourself worthy of the throne, you must complete this task alone and unaided," Uther asks.

"I do."

——

Gaius warns them that the Perilous Lands is not somewhere people return from. Legends says that despite the Fisher King being wounded in battle, some believe the Fisher King's still alive, kept from death by his magic.

Amelia, Anne, Gwen, and Morgana shop in the Market in the Lower Town. They are observing the fabrics at one stall when an old woman suddenly grabs Amelia's arm causing her to startle. Morgana turns to her in worry.

"Please, please, just spare me a few minutes of your time, Sisters." Morgause. Amelia reluctantly nods and she and Morgana go with her.

"My Ladies?" Gwen calls out in concern. Anne sends Amelia a look, a look that says 'is this a double agent situation?" Amelia gives her a nod and Anne relaxes.

"It's alright, Gwen. We won't be a moment." Morgana replies calmly.

The three sisters slip round the corner and hide in a secluded corner. Amelia already feels dread before Morgause opens her mouth, she can already imagine what her older half sister will ask of her.

"We must be quick, Sisters. This enchantment will not hold for long." Morgause urgently tells them. "Tell me, what has Arthur chosen as his quest?"

"He sets out tomorrow for the Perilous Lands." Morgana diligently reports.

"How perfect." Morgause grins. Amelia tries not to react at the glee on her face. Morgause pulls out a bracelet with an orange jewel in the middle that glows. "Present this to the Prince as a token of your good wishes." Amelia reluctantly takes it. "When the time is right, one of you must make a likeness of the Prince and bind it to the gift using the skills that I have taught you both. When he does not return, you, Morgana, will take your rightful place as sole heir to the throne of Camelot."

Amelia and Morgana quickly return to the stall. Amelia's good mood is no longer there.

"My Ladies! Are you alright?" Gwen immediately asks them.

Amelia looks at her confused. "Why wouldn't we be?" She lets out a slight chuckle that ends when she sees Anne frowning.

"I... I thought..." Gwen stumbles.

"That poor woman didn't have a penny to feed her family. We felt duty bound to help her, Gwen." Morgana tells her. She pulls Amelia away with her. Amelia glances back at the two women in worry.

——

Amelia knocks on Arthur's door anxiously. Morgana had lovingly given the job of giving Arthur the bracelet to Amelia, who hadn't been able to refuse or warn the others so Arthur doesn't wear it as Morgana will get suspicious.

"Yes?" Arthur calls through the door. Amelia opens it and sees that he sits at his table.

"I'm sorry Arthur," Amelia says as she enters.

"What is it?" Arthur asks.

Amelia wrings her fingers together as she walks over to stand by the chair at the table. "I'm worried." She really is. She's worried about whether they'll succeed in stopping her sisters.

"That is not like you," Arthur remarks.

Amelia chuckles, trying to stay calm. "I can't help it. I keep thinking something is going to happen to you."

"I'll be fine," Arthur reassures her.

"I'm serious." Amelia insists. She wishes she could tell him everything. "Listen to me Arthur, it keeps going round in my head."

"Amelia, I really..."

Amelia quickly sits. "I want you to do something for me." She needs to get this over and done with.

"What?" He asks fondly, which makes Amelia feel worse as she pulls the bracelet off her wrist and shows him it.

"Wear this? It's to keep you safe." The complete opposite really.

Arthur takes it. "Thanks." He almost looks quite touched.

"Of course you do not have to. I will understand." Amelia quickly adds.

"I have to or Morgana will get mad that I didn't accept a gift from you." Arthur jokes somewhat seriously.

"But I—"

"Amelia, I want the bracelet."

Amelia smiles reluctantly and stands, glad to have it over and done with but annoyed. Arthur stops her. "But in exchange you both have to do something for me."

Amelia rolls her eyes fondly and chuckles. "Of course."

"Will you both look after my father when I am gone?" Arthur requests.

Amelia swallows uncomfortably before giving him a smile, which she thinks is a bit tight. "Do not worry, we will." She reaches forward and hugs him tightly.

——

In the Main Square Arthur bows to Uther, Amelia, and Morgana, who stand on the stairs with the Council standing behind them, and they bow back. They watch as he mounts his horse.

"You look troubled, Sire," Morgana says with false concern.

"He is sole heir to the throne, Morgana." He tells her.

"Don't worry. I am certain a Pendragon will rule over Camelot for a long time to come." Morgana smirks with Amelia, whose smile drops once Morgana looks away.

Arthur and Merlin nod to each other. Amelia sees the moment Merlin's gaze is magically drawn to the bracelet. He and Arthur exchange a few words before Merlin looks at Amelia with a questioning look on his face. Amelia responds with a worried look.

——

Amelia rushes to warn them and eventually finds them in the Library where they're already searching. Anne and Gaius are flicking through books while Merlin stands on a ladder, looking through the shelves.

"Oh, good," Amelia says when she arrives. "I was coming to tell you."

"We cannot find anything," Anne says. "Merlin insists it is not a jewel and we have searched every stone imaginable."

"Merlin is right. It is enchanted and Morgana and I's job is to drain Arthur with a binding." Amelia explains.

"That means..." Gaius grabs a book from a shelf next to Merlin's legs. "Here." He points at a page that shows the bracelet.

"Gaius, that's it!" Merlin cries, jumping down from his ladder.

"Then it's not a stone, Merlin. It's an Eye of the Phoenix." Gaius declares.

"Phoenix?" Anne questions.

"Some call it the Firebird. Its eye burns with a fire that consumes the life force of anybody it comes in contact with." Gaius explains.

"I have to go after him," Merlin concludes.

"I will come with you." Anne declares.

"This is not a task to be undertaken lightly. You both will need help."

Anne and Merlin ride out of Camelot. Amelia can't go with them to save Arthur as Morgana will be suspicious. So, she reluctantly stays behind.

To excuse Anne's disappearance to Gwen and Morgana, Amelia and Gaius say she is unwell. Amelia uses this as an excuse to get away from Morgana, explaining it as visiting Anne to 'check on her health'.

——

Amelia grimaces as she makes an effigy and sets it on fire that night. She prays that Arthur will keep alive until Merlin, Anne, and Gwaine, who they had gone in search for, get to him on time meanwhile Amelia has to play her evil spy part. Morgana had decided that they should take turns doing it as they should both receive the satisfaction of destroying Arthur. Amelia can't refuse as why wouldn't she want to and she can't pretend that she can't do it because of any limits in her magic as she and Morgana are of equal strength. Pushing it onto Morgana will also make her just as bad as she feels right now as she uses magic to relight the burnt effigy in a box.

Using magic, Amelia relights the burnt effigy in an oriental box Morgana has given her. Suddenly the door opens without so much of a knock. Amelia snaps the box closed and stands up as Gwen enters. She places her body in front of the box so as to hide it.

"Gwen?!" Amelia exclaims in surprise. "What is it?" She realises her tone is a bit sharp when Gwen looks a little alarmed.

"I just wanted to see if there's anything you needed," Gwen murmurs.

Amelia gives a shaky smile but it's the best she can do right now. "Oh, no, no. I am fine, thank you, Gwen." She wants to explain everything to Gwen but to do so, many other secrets would be revealed.

"Is something burning?" Gwen then questions. Not good.

"It's nothing. Incense box of Morgana's." Amelia hurriedly explains. "She did not really say only that I had to keep a hold of it.

"Are you sure? Do you want me to go and get her?"

"No!" Amelia yells, startling Gwen. Amelia knows she's looking at Gwen with wide, fearful eyes. "I-I mean I am fine. You should go see to Morgana." Amelia realises herself that her voice is a bit high pitched. She thought she had improved on the lying front but apparently not.

Despite looking suspicious, Gwen leaves.

——

Anne's POV

They eventually find Gwaine in the middle of a Tavern brawl it seems as they have to dodge flying objects and watch Gwaine be shoved across the bar.

"Hello, Gwaine!" Merlin greets cheerfully. Anne looks around at all the angry faces uncomfortably.

Gwaine looks up. "Ah! Merlin! Anne! How are you?" He stumbles as he gets up to stand beside them.

A man clears his throat, drawing their attention. "Give me my money." He demands.

Anne, Merlin, and Gwaine glance at each other before fleeing. They run through the town, chased by the man and his friends. They duck behind a table. Anne peeks out and sees the man has seen them.

"Guys. Run!"

They again run, ducking into an archway of a stone fort and climbing up the stairs to be at a higher level. They pause for a moment.

"Remind me again what you two are doing here." Gwaine huffs.

"Arthur is in trouble, we need your help," Merlin explains.

"What kind of trouble?"

"There!" The man chasing them cries and they bolt again.

"He's gone to the Perilous Lands," Anne tells him.

"What, you serious?"

"Yeah."

They reach the end of the fort and all that lies below them is a cart of hay near their horses. The group chasing them has now reached the top of the stairs of the stone structure.

"Just now, sounds pretty attractive. All right." Gwaine remarks as he looks at the men chasing them.

Anne, Merlin, and Gwaine climb onto the fort wall and look down.

"All right, go for the horses," Gwaine says.

"You have got to be joking." Merlin huffs.

Gwaine shrugs and throws Merlin over the edge of the Castle wall onto a stack of hay, then he turns to Anne. "Ladies first."

Anne rolls her eyes at him to appear annoyed with him but the smile on her face gives her away. She jumps, landing next to Merlin with Gwaine landing next to them soon after.

"Come on." Gwaine urges.

They laugh as they ride away.

——

"So, how has Camelot been since I have been gone?" Gwaine asks as they slowly trot through the forest of Ander.

Anne snorts. "You mean how has Amelia been?"

"Look, I tried to be subtle." Gwaine defends.

Merlin scoffs. "You are the least subtle person we know!"

"All right. Though how is she? Has she missed me?" Gwaine wiggles his eyebrows.

"Oh yes, she pines for you and stares longingly out of the window wondering when you will ever be able to return," Anne remarks sarcastically in a dramatic fashion.

Merlin laughs while Gwaine rolls his eyes.

——

Amelia's POV

Amelia sits at her dresser as Gwen fixes her hair while Morgana lounges on one of the chairs in the Chambers. The air is tense and Amelia feels herself shaking, worried about what will Morgana do if she thinks Gwen has worked them out.

"You're so good to us, Gwen. Thank you." Morgana says sickeningly sweet. Amelia had mentioned to Morgana that Gwen might be suspicious but she seems to be laying it on a bit thick.

"It's nothing." Gwen hurriedly dismisses though it is clear she's lying.

Morgana gives a pointed look to Amelia through the mirror. Amelia swallows thickly knowing it is her turn. "You're upset with me. I know, I was sharp with you last night. I'm sorry."

She meets Gwen's eyes through the mirror and hopes the pleading look and the fear in her eyes will get Gwen to let it go, particularly in Morgana's presence.

Gwen frowns but then shakes her head dismissively. "It's forgotten." She answers. Amelia relaxes and gives her a grateful smile.

"What can we do to make it up?" Morgana asks cheerfully. "How about we give you some time off considering all the extra work you have been doing since Anne has been ill." Gwen looks suspicious and looks at Morgana. "Don't look at me like that. I'm sure we can look after ourselves for one night."

"That's very kind of you, My Lady," Gwen replies after some slight hesitation.

Amelia sighs and stands as she speaks, "Well, I am glad that is sorted."

Amelia and Morgana move to leave the room, but Gwen stops them. "Before I go, I'll make sure everything's ready for both of you when you return."

"That is sweet. But do not stay too late." Morgana insists before they leave the room.

"It does seem she didn't really see anything." Amelia hurriedly says once they are walking away from the room.

"Seems so." Morgana murmurs. "But we mustn't let our guard down until we are completely sure."

"Gwen wouldn't dare." Amelia insists, trying to keep her friend out of danger.

"Maybe, but, if necessary, we will have to use the information that she has feelings for Arthur if we need to put a stop to her." Morgana decides.

Outwardly Amelia smirks, pleased, but on the inside, it feels as if everything is twisting up and she feels sick.

——

Gwen's POV

Gwen cannot keep her mind off what was happening with Morgana and Amelia. Something is going on and by her behaviour, Gwen believes Morgana is getting Amelia to do something she does not want to do.

As she is tidying the Chambers of the two wards before taking her time off when it crosses her mind to do some snooping in their Chambers, particularly Amelia's as she had been hiding something the night before.

Gwen begins opening the cupboards when she sees an oriental box that she swears is Morgana's. This causes her to pull it out to have a closer look. She opens it to find a mound of some material she cannot work out. Gwen leans forward to give it a sniff and realises it has the same smell that she had sensed the night before. This must be it.

Before she can do any more, Gwen gets startled by movement near Amelia's Chambers and hurriedly puts the box back where she had found it. She slips behind a screen just in time as the door opens and Morgana steps inside.

"Gwen?" Morgana calls out. Gwen holds her breath and stays still.

Morgana seems satisfied that no one is inside and closes the door before walking straight towards the cupboard Gwen had been rummaging in before. Gwen watches as Morgana pulls a box out of the cupboard, and sets it on the table as she watches from behind the screen. Morgana closes her eyes and when she opens them, they are golden and a small fire erupts inside the box.

Gwen stands there in shock, just about holding in a gasp of fear and surprise as she watches Morgana smile at what she had done. Does Morgana have magic?! And God knows what she has been making Amelia do, the poor girl had been terrified ever since last night. Also, if Gwen thinks about the two wards ever since they had returned, Amelia had been more in her shell, more skittish every time she is around Morgana but always seems very relaxed and carefree when she is not around.

——

Anne's POV

They reach the bridge that leads to the Perilous Lands. Gwaine motions for Merlin and Anne to stay put while he scouts the bridge. They nod and as soon as he leaves, head straight for the bridge.

Suddenly, a short man appears in front of the bridge. Merlin automatically reaches out and grabs Anne's arm, pushing her behind him protectively.

"So, Magic and Hope have arrived." He speaks.

Merlin's eyes bug out of his head. Anne does not blame him; this man knows about Merlin's magic somehow. "What?" He stammers.

The man shakes his head at Merlin. "There is nothing to be afraid of. Your presence is essential if Arthur is to succeed on his quest."

"How do you know about Arthur? Who are you?" Anne demands to know.

"The Keeper of the Bridge." The man reveals. "I only wish to see the Fisher King's lands restored and prosperity reign again. Until your and Hope's mission is complete, this cannot happen."

"It's not our mission, it's Arthur's," Merlin says in confusion.

"That's what you choose to believe." The Keeper of the Bridge shrugs. "It's no accident that Arthur chose this path or you two chose to follow him."

Anne hears footsteps behind them, and Merlin and her turn around to see Gwaine walking up to them.

"Ah, finally! Strength has arrived, the quartet is complete." The Keeper of the Bridge exclaims.

Gwaine draws his sword. "Who's he?"

The Keeper of the Bridge quickly turns Gwaine's sword into a large flower. "I mean no harm to either of you. And I'd thank you to mean no harm in return."

"Where's my sword?" Gwaine questions.

"It will return to you once you reach the other side." The Keeper of the Bridge replies calmly.

Gwaine grimaces and crosses the bridge. The Keeper of the Bridge turns to Anne and Merlin.

"The Fisher King has waited many years for this day. Do not deny him what he wishes." He tells them. Anne and Merlin nod and walk across the bridge. "Remember, nothing is as it seems."

——

Gwen's POV

Feeling frantic, Gwen hurries to Gaius' Chambers that night. She had wondered about talking to Amelia about it but decided not to in case she is wrong about her and she tells Morgana. She cannot talk to Anne either as she is unwell and Gwen does not want to bother her.

She knocks frantically on the door until Gaius opens the door and Gwen quickly steps in.

"I'm sorry to wake you." Gwen apologises.

"Don't be silly," Gaius reassures her as he closes the door and turns to her.

"I'm not sure who else I can talk to." Gwen shakily admits.

"What is it, child?"

"It's Morgana. Just her I-I think." Gwen tells him.

"What's happened?"

Gwen swallows thickly before explaining, "Amelia had this box, I, I thought it was hers but Morgana took it and h-her eyes, it was like they were on fire. What do I do, Gaius? Morgana is using magic."

"Everything may not be as it seems, Gwen." Gaius dismisses but Gwen shakes her head.

"No, no. I know what I saw." She argues. "I have known Morgana for so long, I didn't want to believe it, but she... she isn't the person I knew. She has changed, Gaius. I have seen the way Amelia fears her, how she acts falsely when with her. She looks terrified. I don't think Morgana means well to any of us anymore."

Gaius sighs. "I wish I could say otherwise, but I fear you're right. Amelia is doing her best to keep an eye on her and we must help her."

Gwen stares at him in shock. It is one thing to wonder and another when it is confirmed.

——

Anne's POV

They had camped for the night and continue moving the next morning. Anne had not been able to sleep as the sounds of large pheasants screeched during the night. Anne, Merlin, and Gwaine soon reach The Dark Tower.

When they stand on a hill looking at the tower in the distance, they soon spot some sort of creatures flying in the sky. It is quickly realised that they are hunting something and that something is Arthur.

It is only once they are closer do they see that the creatures are quite like the Dragon, only smaller. Gwaine explains them as being Wyverns, distant cousins of the Dragons. They quickly crawl under the portcullis that covers the entrance to the tower and split off in search of Arthur.

Anne cannot find him but then hears what sounds like Arthur yelling and quickly follows the sound, meeting up with Gwaine along the way.

"How many times do I have to get it into your thick skull? I am supposed to be doing this alone!" Arthur yells at what Anne assumes is Merlin.

A Wyvern is about to attack them, but Gwaine stabs it through the back and kills it before it can. Anne can see Arthur from where she is standing, he looks weak and sweaty, but he is still alive.

Anne is still behind Gwaine, so Arthur cannot see her as he grumbles, "Great. This just gets better and better. Are Amelia, Anne, Gwen, and Morgana here too? Are we going to have a tea party?"

Gwaine moves a little out of the way, and Arthur's eyes practically bug out of his head when he sees that Anne is in fact here.

Anne waves a little as she says, "Hello, Arthur... so... how is the quest going?"

Arthur turns to Merlin and thunders, "You idiot! How can you bring her here too?! She is going to tell Amelia everything, who will then tell Morgana, who will tell everyone!"

"Excuse me!" Anne exclaims in mock outrage though she knows he is somewhat right though she knows Amelia will not be telling Morgana anything.

"We don't have time for this." Gwaine cuts in. "There're more Wyverns on their way. We need to get out of here."

"I'm not leaving without the trident." Arthur protests as he stands up and strides off and out the door. "It was the whole point of this quest."

"Do you want us to help you? Or do you want to do this alone?" Merlin calls after him.

"Merlin!" Arthur exasperates.

Gwaine rolls his eyes while Merlin and Anne exchange smiles before they shake their heads and go after him. As Anne passes Merlin, he passes the Eye of the Phoenix to her.

"Can you keep that safe?" He whispers, and Anne nods as she pockets it.

——

They all trail after Arthur up a spiral staircase when Merlin stops them, "Look at this. Looks like a Throne room."

Anne, Gwaine, and Arthur come back down the stairs to see Merlin had stopped to look through a doorway.

"If the trident's going to be anywhere..." Arthur murmurs.

Anne takes a step inside of the room and immediately the stone beneath her foot depresses. She gasps as the trap door is triggered, but Gwaine, who thinks quickly, pushes Anne into the room to prevent her from being squashed by the trap door.

"Anne, watch out!" He calls out as Anne drops to the ground.

Too late; a stone door had fallen into place, trapping Anne inside of the Throne room. She immediately scrambles to her feet and begins banging on the stone door. "Merlin! Arthur! Gwaine!" Anne calls out, hoping one of them would answer back. She groans when she does not get a response.

"So, Tarian, you have arrived." A voice from behind Anne whispers and she nearly jumps out of her skin at the sound.

Anne spins on her heel to see the back of a throne. Cautiously, she walks toward the throne and gasps at what she sees when she gets to the front.

It is, in fact, The Fisher King. He looks eons old. He seems too lively to be considered dead, but he looks too old to be considered alive. He is pale and slim, his cheeks caving into his face. The only thing keeping him alive is whatever shred of magic he has left in him. Anne's eyes travel down to the golden trident that he is holding tightly in his hands.

Anne clears her throat before asking, "Are you the Fisher King?"

The Fisher King slowly blinks as he nods his head. "Yes, Tarian."

"Wait, who is Tarian?" Anne asks with a frown.

"Why, you are." He confirms. "That is what you are known as amongst the Druids. 'Tarian' means 'shield', and you are Emrys' shield, his protector."

Anne does not quite understand but moves on. "So, you are still alive." She more states than asks.

"For now."

There is a loud slam against the wall, and Anne looks up sharply to see it starting to shake from her friends trying to save her. "That is—"

"Your friends, Courage, Strength, and Magic." The Fisher King confirms. "Without their help, you would not be here."

"But why am I here?" Anne questions. "If anything, Merlin should be. He is the one who is Emrys."

"Yes, but he is not the one that needs to speak to me." He says.

"What is it you want?" Anne asks.

The Fisher King sighs. "I want an end to my suffering."

Anne looks at him sympathetically. "You want to die." She cannot imagine what this man has been through all this time.

"I have been waiting all these years for the arrival of a new time: the time of the Once and Future King."

Anne smiles slightly. "I have heard these words before."

"You will hear them again." The Fisher King confirms. "You are Emrys' shield and protector, he will need you by his side with everything that he does. As the time of the Once and Future King dawns, my time can finally come to an end. This is why you were brought here. For this is not Arthur's quest, but it is yours. Arthur thinks that the prize is the trident—" He lets it go, the trident making a loud clanging noise as it drops. "But the real prize is something far greater."

The Fisher King holds up his hand, and a closer inspection reveals a small vial of water. "Water from the Lake of Avalon. I've kept it safe these years, waiting for the right person to claim it. And that is you. You are the chosen one."

"You have got this all wrong." Anne insists. "All of this is Merlin's destiny, not mine!"

"Yours and Emrys' destinies are intertwined, Tarian." The Fisher King states. "You are his destiny, and vice versa. You must help him in everything he does as he helps you. You must give this vial to Emrys, for Albion's time of need is near and during that time, the two of you will be separated. You must have hope that the bond between the two of you is strong enough to save Albion. Emrys' powers are great, but he will need help." He holds out the vial. "Tell him when all seems lost, this will show him the way."

"Thank you." Anne takes the vial from him.

"I have given you a gift. Now you must give me one in return." The Fisher King tells her.

Anne frowns. "But I have nothing to give."

The Fisher King stands, moaning in pain as he does so. "I think you do."

Anne mulls it over, then pulls out the Phoenix Eye bracelet. "If I give you this, you will die."

The Fisher King holds out his arm and nods. Anne nods, drops to one knee, and places the bracelet on the Fisher King's wrist. The Phoenix Eye glows. Anne looks away as the Fisher King is whisked away in a cloud of smoke.

She looks back at the throne tearfully when the wind dies down and hears a, "Thank you," whisper in her ears.

The stone door opens partially then and Arthur rolls under it. Anne quickly gets up, whipping the tears on her cheeks.

"Anne." The Prince murmurs.

Anne sighs and gives him a small smile as she steps around the throne. Arthur walks forward and slaps her on the arm while looking around. Merlin pulls her into a tight hug and kisses her for a few moments. Gwaine sighs and gives Anne a hug himself when she and Merlin pull apart.

"Ha!" Arthur exclaims causing them to turn to him. "Look what I found!" Arthur holds up the Fisher King's trident. "Let's get out of this place."

Anne, Merlin, and Gwaine exchange a look. Gwaine scoffs and follows Arthur out of the room. Anne looks back at the throne.

"Anne?" Merlin calls from the entrance to the Throne room.

"Coming," Anne replies and leaves the room.

——

The four of them reach Camelot's border at the edge of a field where they stop.

"This is the border. By Uther's decree, I can go no further." Gwaine announces.

"I'm sorry, Gwaine. Nothing I can do to change that." Arthur apologises.

"Maybe one day," Anne suggests.

"Yeah. When Camelot gets itself a half-decent King." Gwaine remarks cheekily.

"Careful..." Arthur warns. Anne and Merlin snicker. "He is my father."

"Well, you can't have everything, heh?"

"Where will you go this time?" Merlin questions.

Gwaine licks his finger and sticks it in the air. "I think I'll ride south."

"You can't keep living like that," Merlin tells him.

"Yeah, but it's fun trying."

Arthur nudges his horse forward and begins walking his horse through the field.

"Thanks, Gwaine," Anne says with a smile.

"Hmm." Gwaine nods. "Say hello to Amelia for me."

Anne chuckles. "Of course." She and Merlin nudge their own horses after Arthur.

"I'll remember this, Gwaine," Arthur calls over his shoulder.

——

Amelia's POV

Gwen lights candles in Amelia's Chambers. Amelia approaches the window and sees Arthur riding into the Main Square. Her shoulders drop in relief and shock. She hardly notices her hand going lax on the cup she's holding; the water pours out until she drops it entirely.

Amelia barely hears Gwen move to stand by her and say, "My Lady?"

Amelia feels like she's going to sob in relief as she watches Arthur dismount in the Square.

"Arthur! Oh, thank God!" Gwen gasps.

Amelia recovers enough to turn to Gwen with a wide smile. "Yes, thank God! I must go see him!"

She runs past a surprised Gwen and towards the Castle entrance. Amelia knows she needs to calm down a bit so Morgana doesn't get suspicious of why she is so pleased.

Amelia runs into Arthur in the corridor and wraps him in a big hug. Arthur laughs tiredly.

"I'm all right Amelia." He says softly with a smile.

Amelia pulls back and smiles at him. "Good."

Arthur then looks over her shoulder and says with a grin, "Morgana! Are you not pleased I am back?"

Amelia's smile dims slightly when she hears her sister's name and her fake response, but she doesn't think Arthur notices as he pushes past to wrap his sister in a hug. Amelia watches Morgana's smile drop into a glare as soon as her head is over Arthur's shoulder. Amelia plays along and pulls her own face of annoyance and irritation despite feeling the complete opposite.

——

Arthur presents the trident at Court the next morning. Amelia sits next to Morgana, who is barely concealing her hatred that her brother is still alive.

"Arthur, I don't know what pleases me more," Uther declares, "to be in possession of such a precious artefact, or to know that you have finally proved yourself to be the man I always hoped you would be." He clasps his son's shoulders in some sort of hug.

"Thank you, Father."

"I have no doubt that you will one day make a fine King." Uther praises. The Court applauds as father and son walk out of the room. Amelia and Morgana stand to do the same but Amelia sees the hate in her sister's eyes and it frightens her to the core.

——

The Fisher King had been alive but had asked Anne, who had met him, to end his suffering with the Eye of a Phoenix bracelet but before she did so, the King had given Anne a vial of water.

Gaius holds up the water vial as the four of them observe it in the man's Chambers.

"It's from the Lake of Avalon?" Amelia asks.

"That is what he told me," Anne affirms.

"Interesting," Gaius murmurs.

"You think?" Merlin questions.

"Well, it must have some significance," Gaius says.

"Maybe..."

"Do you believe his warnings?" Amelia asks Gaius.

"Well, we already know of one enemy within our walls," Gaius says.

"Morgana," Merlin utters.

"Her abilities are growing. Whether the Fisher King is right or wrong, we'd be foolish to ignore his words."

——

A/N: Please leave comments on how you're enjoying this story and what you think.

[sugarylawliet]

no good for me (light yagami x reader)

i’m back lol

> warnings: smut, degradation, spit kink, inappropriate use of the death note, VERY toxic relationship, song fic kinda, lyrics are in bold and italics, based off of diet mountain dew by lana del ray

> tag list: @ygm1slt @cradiot28

❛ you’re no good for me, baby you’re no good for me ❜

Nothing on this earth scared you more than the man you were about to see; the pretty boy brunette flaunting good grades and a picturesque family life whose facade of ambitious, respectful young man was a mask almost no one could see through. Some people felt dread at the thought of spiders or snakes, felt fear in their stomach imagining the paranormal, shadow ghosts or criminal stalkers invading their comfort zones. None of these perfectly rational fears scared you the way Light Yagami scared you. There was no fear to be had at the thought of something undesirable creeping its way into your privacy or comfort zone, because Light had manipulated his way into your comfort and trust long ago. He was scarier than a murderer ready to kill at an urge’s call, his blood lust hid in shadows behind his golden boy facade, his words were tools and his touches were negotiations. You couldn’t trust a single thing that came from his mouth, you often questioned your own sanity. Light Yagami had a terrifying grip on you, and it was exactly what he wanted.

Your eyes scan over the text Light had sent you for the millionth time, the words almost ingrained in your head at this point.

Come to my house. We need to talk. 

You were sure he kept his words vague on purpose, yet another tactic to keep you at his disposal out of pure fear. You weren’t exactly sure if you loved Light anymore; what was your definition of love at this point? You loved him, yes, but was it out of obligation? Was it survival instinct?

It was true, in the beginning you had loved Light purely and truly. You believed his ambition was justice, to make the world a better and safer place for you. But as time went on, “Kira doesn’t kill innocents” began racking up more and more exceptions, and as the twisted justifications spilled from his mouth, so did the gaslighting. Over and over, his sweet words convinced you to keep coming back. His empty promises were a drug and you were addicted. 

His text, you were sure, was a reference to this fizzling out of your love for him. He could sense it, and surely he must have found out you were planning on leaving. You weren’t planning on revealing that he’s Kira- that would cause more commotion you were not interested in being a part of- no, you simply wanted to move states, get away and forget about Light Yagami, forget about Kira and Ryuzaki and Ryuk and everything that has overtaken your life. However, if he did find out your plans to skip town, you may just have to reveal that he’s Kira for safety measures.

❛ you’re no good for me, but baby i want you ❜

Hestiently, you opened the door you had been staring at blankly for what felt like hours. Light had been staying in an upscale hotel during the investigation, so maybe the other tenants could hear you if you screamed for help; the overdramatic thought brought you comfort. 

You walk in the room, closing the door behind you. You’re met with the sight of Light’s back as he sits in the rolling chair across the room. In the absence of any words, without even seeing his face, you know he’s mad. Every slight change of Light’s emotions could strangle a whole room by tension alone; his aura manipulated the feeling in the air, which served as a helpful alarm to know when he is upset. And man, is he upset.

You open your mouth to greet him, but he cuts you off, spinning around in his chair to face you, “Don’t talk.” You nod and close your mouth. Why do you even listen to what he says?

“I knew I couldn’t trust you. From the very beginning I knew you would run that pretty little mouth of yours. I know you’re planning on leaving. And then what? Telling the first news outlet you see that I’m Kira?”

“No Light,”

“I said don’t talk.” He stands up from his chair, “If you tell everyone, you’ll also have to tell on yourself. Imagine what everyone would think of you if they knew...You knew I was Kira and you still dated me, you defended me, you kept my secret, you even got on your knees for me. Are you gonna tell that to the media? That you let Kira fuck you?”

You purse your lips, restraining yourself from talking back. You knew it would only make things worse, but you couldn’t stand the way he talked down on you and expected you to take it. 

“Come here.” He motioned to his desk and you followed, sitting on his lap per his instruction. He placed the death note open on the desk, handing you the pen. With one hand gripping yours and the other on your hip, he began to guide your hand, the pen spilling out the first letter of your name on the pages.

❛ do you think we’ll be in love forever? ❜

“N-No, Light, you can’t do this, please.” You begged, your heart rate quickening as you realize what he was doing. It can’t end like this, it just can’t.

“Shhh, just write. That’s it, baby. This is what bad girls get, you see?” His death grip tightened on your hand as he spelled out your name, the last letters leering closer and closer before you could register the implications of what he was doing. This was it, this was really it.

Light lets his free hand wander up to your jawline, pulling your face closer to yours and enveloping you in a kiss as he wrote the last letter of your name. You shake your head with a whine, however he disregards your concerns and runs his hand on your upper thigh. 

“What’s the matter, Y/n? Don’t wanna spend your last moments with me?~” His nose kisses your neck, and the soft, sensual gestures almost make you forget your life was quite literally slipping away at every second that ticked by. 40 seconds. You had 40 seconds to do something.

You jump off of Light’s lap, reality rushing to your lungs as you felt your world closing in. Your pants become heavier, harsh air ripping through your throat as if they were the last breaths you would ever take because, well- they were.

Your head felt buzzing and dizzy as you fell to your knees, crawling towards Light who had spun around in his chair so his back was facing you; completely apathetic. After all you’ve been through together, after all you’ve done for him, nothing. Nothing at all. 

You crawl closer, grasping towards the notebook Light held in his hands, your weakness limiting your reach as anxiety stole your clearness of mind. He only  chuckles at your meek attempts to save your own life. Your head was racing as your nervousness blacked out everything in the room except for the little black notebook your boyfriend had a death grip on; ‘I’m running out of time, I’m going to die, I need the death note, I need to cross my name out, I need it I need it I need it I-’

“Goodbye, Y/N. You were fun to play with for a while.” Light kisses your nose with an arrogant smirk, peeling your hands off from his lap and wrists before checking his watch, signaling your last few seconds. 

You quit your pitiful attempts to grab the notebook and instead push yourself further and further away from Light until your back hit the wall, lacing your fingers tightly in your hair as you cried your last moments away. 

“5, 4, 3 2...” Light spoke.

“No no no no no, please god,” You cried out, squeezing your eyes shut in preparation for the pangs you would soon feel in your chest.

“1...”

And

Nothing.

You breathe. You let the air flood your lungs; it shouldn’t be possible. You dare to open your eyes, revealing the same scene. You, pathetically on the floor with tears down your face, Light before you in his chair with his head thrown back in a maniacal laugh. 

He tossed the death note down to you, like a dog being thrown a bone. You frantically grab it and flip to the newest page, your name scratched out with two thick lines. 

You were alive- no, he let you live.

❛ hit me my darling tonight, i don’t know why but i like it

“Well?” Light asks expectingly, standing up from his chair and kicking it to the side of the room. You look up at him questioningly, eyebrows furrowed in confusion as tears still brimmed your eyes from the just-curved anxiety attack.

“No ‘thank you’? I spared your life even after you betrayed me- lied to me. You’re so ungrateful.”

“I, I-” You found it difficult to shape your words with your hitching breath. You inhale deeply, eyes closed, calming down, “I’m sorry. I’m sorry, Light.”

Why were you even apologizing?

“I’m so sorry, please, just take me back. I’m sorry.” The words spilled from your mouth so quickly simply because they felt right. You needed to apologize, you did wrong, you need to be good. You wanted him back more than anything so you can be good.

❛ scary, my god, you’re divine ❜

“That’s right,” Light smiled, his voice softening unnaturally, “Now, how about you come over here and show me just how sorry you are.”

You hesitate for a second before crawling over to him. You sit obediently with your legs beneath your thighs on the floor in front of him.

“Mm, that’s my babygirl.” He pets your head affectionately, coherencing a smile from you. Despite everything he’s done, he always knew how to reel you back in. You needed the approval. You needed his approval.

You look up at him with puppydog eyes, to which he cocks his head to the side. “You know what I want.”

Nodding, you slowly unzipper his khaki pants and pull out his cock. You run your hand up and down, pumping it slowly. 

“Don’t be a fucking tease” Light scoffs, raking his fingers through your hair and forcing your mouth down onto him. That sweet, caring demeanor was gone in barley a second- of course it was. What were you expecting? It was a thinly veiled facade and you fell for it everytime without exception. 

Light groans, pushing your head further onto him as you try not to gag. You feel the tip of him hit the back of your throat as he thrusts into your mouth faster. “God, Y/N, you take my cock so well. Hah, if only the media could see you now. Poor little Y/N wants to run away from big bad Kira, meanwhile here she is on her knees for him, sucking him off like the dirty slut she is.”

He lets out a deep sigh before pulling out of your mouth. “Be useful for once and get on the bed.” He commands, bringing you to your feet with his strong grip on your hair and pushing you in the direction of the bed. You obey, sitting on the edge of the bed waiting for his next instruction.

Light slinks over to you, standing over your figure as his delicate fingers dance up your inner thigh. He takes off your skirt and slowly rubs your clit through the fabric of your panties.

“Mmm, Light, more...” You buck your hips up to meet his touch, his movements were agonizingly slow and you needed more friction.

“More?” At once he removes his hand from between your legs and grabs your face, your jaw in between the tight hold of his thumb and forefingers. “You want more, huh? You don’t get to make demands of me. You really think i’m gonna give you what you want after that stunt you pulled? Hah, I’m not letting you off that easy.”

You let out a whine, bucking your hips again asking to be touched.

“Aww, poor baby...” Light cooed, “Open up.” You obeyed, opening your mouth before Light brought your face closer to his, spitting in your mouth. “Now swallow.”

You do, earning a smirk from Light. “Mm, good girl. Good girls get rewarded.”

He pulls your panties aside before dipping two slender fingers inside you; wasting no time, he pumps them in and out frantically.

“Oh god Light, fuck,”

“You’re so wet for me Y/N, you like this, don’t you? I knew you would, such a dirty whore. You like when I treat you like this? You like being treated for the slut you are? God, you probably got wet when I almost killed you. It makes me hard, having you under my thumb like this, under my control...”

“Fuck Light, it feels so good, I’m close...”

Quickly, he removes his fingers from you once again, earning a cry from you at the loss of heat. “Please Light, I need you so bad,” You beg.

“What did I say? You’re still not forgiven for that stunt you pulled. Don’t whine.” He wraps his hand around your throat, pushing you down onto your back.

He fully pulls his boxers down, aligning himself with your entrance.

“Beg for it.”

“Please, please light, god, I need it so badly. I want you.”

“Hmm, yeah? You’re so desperate for my cock? I’m not convinced.”

“Please, Light, I’ll never be bad again, I’ll never mess up again. I need your cock so badly, I need you to use me. Do anything you want.”

“Mm, that’s more like it,” Light remarks before pushing into you, earning a loud moan. HIs thrusts were slow, no doubt teasing you.

“Oh, Light, please, faster...”

“More demands? God, you’re such a needy slut. Fine.” His grip on your throat tightens, pushing you further into the bed as he snaps his hips into you without mercy. His pace is relentless, quickly finding your g-spot.

“Fuck, Light. It... it feels- fuck,”

“Hah, stupid slut, what’s wrong? Cat’s got your tongue? Or is it me fucking you so hard you can’t even think straight, can’t form sentences?”

His words only egg on your approaching orgasam, “Hmmph, it- it feels so good. I’m gonna...”

With that, Light pulls you up slightly by your neck before slamming you roughly back into the bed, thrusting into you with speed. “Cum, show me how sorry you are.”

You obey, releasing with a loud moan of his name. He finishes soon after, roughly letting go of your throat. “Clean yourself up. You look like a fucking mess.”

You slip your panties and skirt back on as Light sits apathetically at his desk, his focus buried in paperwork. You heart skinks to your stomach. 

Once you finish dressing, Light allows you to leave, informing you of the Kira case work he had to finish and opening the door for you. 

“And Y/N,” He catches your attention before you step into the hallway of the hotel, “Let this be a lesson. Don’t ever try to leave me again. You’re mine.” He grabs your jaw and kisses you tenderly- but you weren’t stupid. You knew the motivation behind it, and let you still kissed his soft lips back and let yourself melt into him. 

“Goodbye,” He remarks after pulling away, “Behave yourself.”. The door slams in your face. 

You can still feel his cum dripping from your heat daring to spill out of your panties. The hallway was empty, allowing reality to rush to you at once. Your senses only seem clear when you were alone- with Light, you didn’t see with your own eyes or hear with your own ears.

You let your back touch the door of Light’s hotel room, slowly sliding down until you were sitting on the carpeted floor. Your life was broken pieces and you cut yourself picking up the glass shards, relishing in the fact that your boyfriend liked the way the blood looked on your pricked fingers.

❛  hurt me and tell me you’re mine, i don’t know why but i like it. ❜

[strawberrystrangers]

Little, Teeny Crush | sebastian stan

Synopsis: Chris and Sam hook you and Sebastian up on Chris’ birthday night out, knowing you like him.

A/N: This is really rough for my first piece lol but hope you enjoy anyway. Requests are open for Sebastian Stan/Chris Evans/Tom Holland related topics. I have a few of my own story ideas I’m putting out, so if you do request bear with me.

“I honestly hope he doesn’t come,” you say, twirling the straw in your drink as a hopeful distraction. You focus on the ice cubes that circle the glass, feeling your chest pulsating at the same pace. It was June and that meant, really, only one thing: Chris demanding a night out for his birthday. You and Anthony had already planned the night, intending it as a surprise, but Chris ended up finding out and wanted to stay updated. So, now, the three of you were sat in The Wooden Crown Arms—because Chris always had an interest in British pubs—in a booth in the corner, waiting for Sebastian to arrive… Well, they were waiting, you were dreading.

     “Why?” Anthony asks, sitting opposite you and laughing. “He’s just late, what’s he ever done to you?”

     An already tipsy Chris giggles. “She has a little crush on him,” he points at you and then boops your nose. “A little, teeny crush.”

     You roll your eyes and try to suppress a laugh. “I’m gonna need a lot more to drink if I’m gonna catch up with you, Evans.”

     “A crush?” Anthony leans closer to you from across the table excitedly. “Really?”

     Before you can reply, you watch Sebastian walk through the entrance on the other end of the room. “Shut up,” you say. “He’s coming over.”

     Chris turns around but Sebastian still hasn’t seen you guys. “Oh, you mean Sebastian Stan?” He says loudly, almost falling off the seat. Anthony manages to pull him back before he completely hits the ground. 

     That’s when Sebastian sees you.

     He only looks at you first and it’s like the two of you are having some film-like slow-motion moment. But then Chris’ loud voice breaks it, and he engulfs Sebastian in a hug. You feel Sebastian still looking at you but you try and keep your focus on Anthony, too worried that you’ll blush if you look long enough. 

     “Sorry, I’m late,” he says, sitting down next to you. His thigh brushes yours and you gulp, but he seemingly ignores it, greeting Anthony across the table. “Traffic was a bitch.”

     “I think Y/N wants you to say that last part again,” Chris giggles. You widen your eyes at him and grit your teeth. Fuck.

     “Why?” Sebastian is looking right at you, obviously waiting for an answer but you can’t meet his eyes—and you see Chris staring, evidently manifesting you to look at each other.

     Still looking at Chris, you say, “My hearing is really bad in this place. I just didn’t catch it.”

     “Right,” Seb laughs in confusion. “I guess I’m gonna need a lot to drink if I’m gonna catch up with you, Chris.”

     Anthony and Chris turned to you, eyes wide at Sebastian’s similar line to yours earlier.

     “It’s a common phrase, guys,” you sigh.

     “A what?” Sebastian laughs confused again.

     “Common phrase.”

     “A common phrase?”

     “We said the same thing,” you explain. “They think it means something. I think it means Chris is too drunk already.”

     “I’m perfectly fine, Y/N! Look, it’s like this… when you have a time and you have a moment, it’s going to be pretty interesting.”

     “Chris, what the fuck are you saying?” You laugh.

     Sebastian laughs. “I’m gonna go get a drink. Anyone want another?” He looks at Anthony, who shows his full bottle, and then to Chris, and Anthony shakes his head. Then he finally looks at you, and you finally look back at him which causes your stomach to feel like a whole circus.

     “Southern Comfort and lemonade.” You smile.

     He nods and heads towards the bar. As soon as he’s out of sight, you lean across the table. “I should smack you both, what are you doing!”

     “Did you just say you’ll smack us?” Chris giggles.

     Anthony ignores Chris and says, “Trying to hook you up.”

     “You don’t even know if he’s attracted to me. Can you not put me out there when I haven’t done it myself? I can’t handle rejection. Especially not from someone as hot as Sebast—“

     “Here you go.” Sebastian sings, sliding your drink towards you. “Got you a straw too, saw you had one in your last drink.”

     In unison, Chris and Anthony shout, “Gentleman!”

     “This is so weird,” Sebastian laughs. “I love it.”

***

Chris and Sebastian are deep in conversation while you and Anthony scan the food menu for snacks. Sebastian stretches his arm across the back of the booth seat behind you—his focus still on Chris. Anthony’s eyes widen at you, face not really containing his excitement. You mouth to him to “chill out”. 

     “I need the bathroom!” Anthony bursts out abruptly. Everyone looks at him. “Yeah, I need the bathroom. Move Chris…”

     After a short moment, Chris’ phone dings and he looks at it. Then he quickly looks up, grinning at both you and Sebastian. You give Chris a look of, don’t you fucking dare leave me alone with him. But his grin only grows larger.

     “I have to go to the bathroom.”

     You sigh, “did Anthony just text—“

     “I just have to go to the bathroom. I can’t hold it any longer, I guess.” 

     And then he’s gone… leaving you and Sebastian left alone. With his arm still behind your head, he taps the seat with his fingers and you feel your heartbeat get faster. You’re getting nervous—or rather more nervous than before. You can hear his fingers on the leather so close by your ear.

     “Y/N?” He says, and you snap out of your daze. “Were you not listening?” He laughs, a smile wide on his face.

     “I don’t think I was, I’m sorry. Say that again.”

     “I was asking if you were having a good time.”

     “I’m having a great time.” You’re still facing frontwards but you notice and feel Sebastian turn his body towards you. “What about you?” You give a quick glance and then sip your drink again.

     “I’m having a good time…” he’s chuckling to himself. You can hear the leather squeaking as he’s shaking his leg. “I’m having a really good time, yeah.”

     “Seems Chris is too,” you joke.

     “Yeah,” he says. “Chris is definitely going for it tonight.”

     “Yeah…”

     “Why were they shouting my name when I first arrived?”

     You gulp and hope he didn’t hear it. “They must have seen you come in.”

     “They were facing you,” he says with a smile still on his face. “You were the one to see me. I saw you look at me and look away.” You drink faster through the straw. “Did you say something about me?” He laughs. 

     You choke as you swallow your drink, coughing and catching the attention of the other people in the bar. He rubs your back and puts a hand on your arm. “Oh my god, that was embarrassing.”

     “Are you okay?” When he asks this, you turn to him. Properly looking at him now and you wonder if you can trust yourself. While looking at him, you notice one of his collar sides is sticking up. You unfold it and caress it down so it’s in its right place.

     “Sorry,” you say overly apologetic. You completely forgot where you were for a moment. “It was bugging me. One side up. One side down.”

     He just stays smiling and shakes his head. “No problem, I liked it… I mean, I appreciated it. Appreciated it, yeah.”

     He’s looking at you in the eyes and you don’t think you’ve ever met someone who makes such great eye contact like him. It’s making you nervous again. His eyes flicker from your eyes to your lips then back to your eyes, licking his lips every now and then.

     Then you move your hands down to the hem of his top, twisting it around your fingertip to ease your nerves. “Is this okay?” You ask and he nods.

     He moves his free hand—with his other still in the back of the booth seat behind you—onto your thigh, his thumb gently caressing the inside of it. “Is this okay?” He asks and you nod. You feel your insides becoming giddy, goosebumps forming across your skin.

     Just as you think Sebastian is leaning in, Anthony approaches the table and you retract your hand from his shirt but his hand stays still on your thigh.

     “I’m gonna give Chris a ride home,” he says. “He’s gone a little bit overboard. You two good, here?”

     You nod. “Yeah, I’ll grab a cab home.”

     “We can share and split the cost,” Sebastian says. “Then we know you get home safe.”

***

The cab finally pulls up outside your apartment building, and you hesitate for a moment. The rain is pattering on the car windows and with your light alcoholic buzz, everything feels so calm and soothing.

     “You okay?” He asks.

     You want to ask him up, but you don’t want to feel rejected. Maybe you were imagining the moment in the bar?

     “I’d like that,” he says.

     You’re brought out of your thoughts, “Huh?”

     “Coming up to your apartment,” he laughs.

     “Did I say that out loud?”

     He nods, laughing. “Did you not mean to?”

     The cab driver sighs. “Look, man, this is cute and all but I’m running gas, here. Are you getting out or not?”

     Sebastian looks at you to make sure you want him to come up. You nod at him knowingly. He lets you out of the cab first before he paying the driver. When he exits, he puts a hand to the small of your back. You’re both quiet when you walk through the lobby and into the elevator—maybe it’s tension or maybe it’s just awkwardness. You’re not quite sure.

     “Which number?” He asks.

     “Oh, yeah, sorry,” you laugh. “It’s the third floor.”

     He presses the button for number 3 and stands close by your side, his hand still on the small of your back. The doors open on your floor and you walk down the hall to your apartment, Sebastian now trailing behind you instead of beside you. You put the key in the lock and turn it, open the door.

     “You’re not some secret serial killer, are you?” You ask. “Only you’re trailing behind me…”

     “I figured I’d give you some space in case you felt like you wanted to slam the door in my face and not let me in.” He says this as he’s walking through the hallway of your apartment. When he sees your couch he asks if he can sit on it and you nod.

     “Water or coffee?” You call to him from the kitchen.

     “Coffee, please, Y/N.”

     You walk into the room holding a glass of water for yourself and a coffee for Sebastian. You sit opposite him on the couch. “Tonight was fun,” you say.

     “Very fun,” he agrees, sipping from the mug. Then there’s a moment of silence. “Did you like my hand on your thigh?”

     “Did I?” You stutter nervously, taken aback by the question.

     “I should really stop making you choke, shouldn’t I?” He chuckles. “So, did you? Like my hand on your thigh?”

     “That’s a sexy way of asking for consent,” you giggle. “But I did, yeah.”

     He looks at you deeply again, and you’re getting nervous again. “Would you like it…” he moves closer to you, and you do the same.

     “I would,” you whisper.

     He places the mug on the table and rests his hand on your thigh like earlier. His thumb gently caressing the inside of it.

***

Sebastian’s hand was cold when it slid up your body to rest his hand by your collar bone, his palm flat feeling your heartbeat get faster and faster, and his wrist resting between your boobs. His other hand slipped into your underwear, finger sliding down your slit.

     “You’re soaking,” he whispered in your ear, his breath warm. A jarring difference from his cold hands. “Have you been like this all night?”

     You tilt your head back onto his shoulder. And he loves the sight, you in pleasure heaven, your neck on show for him, your body quivering back into his. “Have you been like this all night?”

     “Y-yes,” you manage to make out. “Oh, daddy, yes. All night.”

     “Good thing I came up to you, then?” He asks. “Are you glad I came up to you?” He emphasises the word “came” and he feels you clench against his finger.

     “Not yet, baby, you don’t get me inside of you yet. Just be patient, baby.”

[physicalturian]

[18+] Deranged Love - Hanma Shuji x F!Reader - Part 1

[Probably contains spoilers from the anime and the manga] [She/Her pronouns used for the reader, no physical description; Everyone is +18]

Words: 9403

Archive of our own

Warnings : Explicit! / Blood / Injuries / Guns / Bruises / Choking / Blood / Graphic depiction of violence / Killing / Murder / Crying / Trauma /

Summary : Wrong place, wrong guy. Wrong in so many fucking ways it only made the attraction more sick and twisted...Yet I wanted more of him and would end up doing anything for him, with him.

If you feel like I should add more warnings, send me a dm or and ask, I'd rather be safe than sorry

- - -

Routine.

This would be how I would describe my way of life, a routine. I liked it like that, it was safe, comfortable and I was sure of what would happen. Far from me the idea of only doing the same things over and over again, I would sometimes go out with my friends or see a movie—doing things on a whim was not off the table. But I liked knowing what I was signing up for. Surprises, however, never were a thing I enjoyed—seeing my friends in my house when all I wanted was to relax after work was something dreadful and annoying to no end. I would pull through and be a good host, nonetheless, making sure everything was enjoyable, but I would be drained by the end of their stay.

Perhaps that need for reassurance, for a safety net, was the reason why I never truly took an artistic path or even considered any artistic career. It was too free, too unpredictable, too risky. Never could I have imagined myself doing such a thing; those who did were in my eyes the boldest and I admired them greatly for following their dream, but I was not bold, I preferred the solace of a job I knew would always bring me money. A simple 9 to 5 job was fulfilling enough for me; for some it was not, but I enjoyed it. It was something I could do and found relaxing to do, even when there was more rush. It just made sense to me.

There was not much thrill in this job. The people were nice enough; the clients were a bit bitter from time to time, depending on whether the job we had done was in their favor or not. Some of my colleagues would tell me crazy stories about some firms they had worked on or with and I would have a hard time believing it, but perhaps it was because different departments would deal with different types of clients. I had simple people: homeowners, tax payers, easy stuff. I liked it.

Now, even if I was keen on this routine that I had of going to my job, using the same transports, the same paths, headphones in to ignore the people around, I knew when following that same path would bring me trouble. I knew when to break that routine even just a little bit.

Tonight was one of those rare occasions. As I walked back home from work after having had to stay one more hour to help my colleague Darren fix his mistake—I made sure to tell him he owed me for helping him this late—I saw a group of men surrounding someone on the street. With one glance around, the entire street was empty except for those seven men and their victim. The usually crowded place was completely deserted and as I wondered how it could have happened, I noticed bikes at the end of the road blocking any possible traffic. It did not take a genius to know this was something far above me, there was no way I would interfere with that. Turning around, I made sure my steps were less heavy, less determined and started walking back. I did not have time to think I was going to get out of there safely when I heard, “Miss! Call the police-“. A thud sound, followed by a pained moan reached my ear.

When I dared look over my shoulder, I saw the man on his knees, blood pouring from his nose. I recognized him, he was a creepy older man that would sometimes stay longer on the train to look at younger women. Glancing at the other people around him, I kept my face as neutral as possible. Should I call the police? The outfits they wore all had the same sigil on them, the same pattern, and since they did not look like high schoolers I hardly believed those were school uniforms. Which led to the conclusion that they were the ones the news talked about a lot. The city was filled with gangs fighting over territory, not hesitating one bit to kill anyone who would cross them. I was sure of myself, assertive, yes… but I did not possess a savior complex. Seeing that man on the floor made me realize how wrong the system was, but I could not risk taking part in the situation and helping him. There were too many and clearly a lot scarier and stronger than I was. Looking away, I kept walking and heard them laugh, “That’s the right thing to do missy, he deserved it-“ “I said I was going to pay as soon as I got the money!” The victim interrupted; he was speaking very fast, but the fist smashing his jaw was faster to tell him to shut up. “It ain’t about that, you know it!”

Playing my music again, louder this time, I walked away and let them deal with everything, taking a different route than the one I would usually take. It’s alright to not have helped, you wouldn’t have made a difference… But he deserved it… I can still call the police… A turmoil inside my head started as I kept walking. After a few minutes, I grabbed my phone and dialed the police department’s number; they picked up quite fast, asking me what the emergency was. “There are gang members beating up a man in-“ “I’m sorry ma’am we can’t help with that, have a nice evening.” And just like that, the person on the other end of the phone hung up. Looking at my phone incredulously, I called again, all while taking a turn and walking by a warehouse, “Hello, you must have misunderstood me earlier—it is not a joke, there are gang members in the-“ This time, I was not interrupted by the person on the phone but by my arms being grabbed suddenly.

My heartbeat picked up, I suddenly felt sick and my head started spinning. When things like this happened, we’d always think it only happened to others, so when I realized it was happening to me, I did not feel well. Blood drained from my face, from my entire body. It all happened so fast: one moment I was walking past the warehouse, then suddenly my phone hit the ground and I joined it when I was thrown on it with force. My cheekbone took all the damage as someone pressed the side of my face onto the wet ground and made sure to put weight on my back to stop me from moving. I was shivering in fear already, but that fear only grew when my hair was pushed out of the way by a bloody hand, its knuckles painted red and brown from fresh and drying blood. The action did not feel one bit intimate, it was scary, intimidating. With the pressure on my back, I was pressed against the hard floor and could barely breathe, but in a situation like this I knew better than to talk.

I knew that. Yes.

So why did I talk? Why were my nerves acting up in moments like these?

“I am sure you got the wrong person—I’m just an accountant-“ A gun was now pressed against my cheek, I took it as a sign to shut up and did so. The man on my back twisted the gun a few times against my cheek, making me open my mouth from the weird movements against my teeth, like someone forcing a dog to open its jaws to get food out of it. “Aren’t we noisy? Tonight wasn’t the right night to feel heroic, girl.” The man asked as he tucked a strand of hair behind my ear. I closed my eyes in discomfort, my breath hitching. Laughing sadistically, he continued talking, this time his tone lowered, “Rats shouldn’t snoop in businesses that aren’t theirs.” I felt the weight shift on my back, then heard him ask someone, “Keep beating him up, I’ll take care of her then we’ll continue having our fun,” His voice was stern but I still heard some tones of him being carefree, he was enjoying this. He then addressed someone else, “Sounds good to you?” The answer consisted of muffled cries, attempts at screams that were cut off by hits then a gun cocking. With a sigh, the man on me pulled the gun away from my face and tutted the man who was bound on his knees.

I felt the weight leave my back but did not dare move, I stayed right where I was. Steps on the humid ground were heard, getting away from me but clearly approaching the man who I assumed was being tortured. The gun fired soon after, startling me as I tensed up and closed my eyes a few seconds before opening them again. The crazy man that put me on the ground laughed loudly, “Come on, it’s just the thigh, you can still walk for now, yeah?” He had said. Turning my head to look at them, I saw the older man on his knees, hands tied behind his back and suit bloody. His tie was undone, and he had wounds all over his face and chest. “I said you can walk, yeah?” Recognizing the voice, I could put a face to my aggressor as I watched him remove his glove before grabbing the victim by his arm and making him stand up, only to force him to wobble a bit. “See! I am being nice! Talk and it’s all over, come on.” He cooed in something that could be seen as sweet if it wasn’t happening in a warehouse with violent people and a man bleeding on the ground.

“I told you! I don’t know anything I-“ The man with the long earring in his left ear did not think twice before punching the office worker in the face with enough force. I believe I heard his nose crack. I caught a glimpse of the tattoos adorning his hands but could not decipher, from how far I was, what was written on them. The crazy man laughed after the punch, “Wrong answer! Haha, you have one last chance, ok?” He said, leaning over so that his face was at the same level as the other man’s. From my place on the ground, I could only see the wicked smile on his face, and it made me feel uneasy. The tall violent man was clearly crazy, having such a man roaming the city did not seem safe at all and it scared me to think of what else was happening in the shadows. “Alright, alright, please Reaper-“ The man he called Reaper gripped his chin tight and chuckled, “Straight to point, I don’t have time to waste on vermin like you, you’re no fun.” He said as a matter of fact, as if they both believed this. His face had turned serious so quickly that I feared the moment I felt like I could escape, he would change his mind in half a second.

The bleeding man nodded quickly, tears streaming down his cheeks, “It’s Silas&Sons—That’s the name of the firm that discovered something was off-'' While I was left in shock at the mention of the firm I worked at, the Reaper grinned and brought the gun to the man’s forehead, “Wasn’t hard, was it?” the man tried to tell him not to shoot, adding that the violent one had promised he would stop. The latter shook his head, “I said it’ll all be over! Listen carefully next time,” He said the last part like a parent berating their child then winked and pressed the trigger, killing the man in less than a second as his body hit the ground, blood spattering behind him. The man with black and blond hair looked at the body on the ground and chuckled to himself, “There won’t be a next time, but you get the jest.” He huffed with a wave of his hand before handing back the gun he had been given earlier. Turning around, his eyes locked on mine. I widened my eyes in pure terror and turned my face to be in the position he had left me in; I was aware he had seen me, but I was hoping he would not mention it.

The other people that were in the room had gone silent and were probably all looking at me, the woman lying on the floor, shaking, dreading for her life. The odds of me coming out of this unscathed seemed to be decreasing the more I observed what was happening around me. A stinging pain reached my scalp making me hiss, as someone lifted my head from the ground to make me look at them. While turning my head their way, I saw two men sitting on a crate, one with two braids that were long enough to go down to his ribcage while the other had shorter purple hair and glasses. Boredom adorned both their features alongside blood stains on their outfits, and yet they were nonchalant about it. I saw a man leaning behind another crate but barely managed to catch a glimpse of his tattoo that the man called Reaper snapped his fingers in front of me. “Here, I’m your tormentor, not them, yeah?” He grinned. Meeting his gaze again, I forced myself to keep my mouth shut and kept my eyes on him.

“You’re being courageous, not even crying yet! You’re a fun one, gotta love it.” He said happily, his hand patting the cheek that had taken most of the damage when he slammed me on the ground. I flinched when I saw his hand approach my face then winced at the rough touch against the bruising skin. “What will I do with you little rat? Eavesdropping ain’t nice, tattling ain’t it either.” The latter was said in a more serious tone as his expression turned somber, any humor that dripped from his words a moment ago was completely gone and he was now looking at me with caution. “Get up, come on.” I did not have a choice, the grip in my hair did not slacken and I had to follow his movement to avoid most of the pain. My clothes were dirty and damp from the humid ground; I felt my legs shake as I got to my feet and hissed at the pain when he yanked my hair for me to follow him quicker.

Pushing me forward, he threw me against the crate where the two other men were sitting. Hitting my shoulder against the wooden item, I swore under my breath and was about to fall to my knees again when the man with the long braids wrapped his legs around my neck and somewhat choked me. Caught off guard, I gripped his shins tight and tried to break free, but his hold only tightened. I heard him mock me while he dug his heels deeper in my biceps from the position he was in, “Stop moving and it’ll stop hurting, fuck you’re stupid.” He sighed with disdain, bringing me closer towards him but it only pressed my neck against the wood. Gritting my teeth, I stopped trying to get him to let go and let my arms fall to my side, when I felt the choke weaken and took a large intake of breath while focusing my eyes anywhere but on the man in front of me.

The manic laughter I had now heard many times in those few minutes I was on the floor reached my ears again, “I can see you wanna live, what are you willing to do to stay alive?” He asked in a light tone. It was a real question, but I did not want to do anything. I wanted to punch them and make a run for it, but they had guns and strength, none of which I could match in any way. I kept my mouth shut again.

The Reaper chuckled again, “I don’t know if you keeping your pretty mouth shut is a curse or a blessing-“ he stopped himself and slapped my now undamaged cheek with as much force as he could, making me yelp at the pain. I kept my face turned the direction his hand had turned it, but he gripped my chin forcefully and made me look at him. His expression had turned almost sour as he stared right into my eyes, “Fucking answer the question, what are you willing to do?” he spat, his face only breaths away from mine. Keeping a frown on, I uttered, “I wasn’t calling on you, there were people blocking another road-“ His mouth contorted into a smile once again as he pushed my face against the crate before letting go as he threw his hands in the air, and turned around on himself once, “She speaks! God it’s so entertaining to see you’re—Still. Not. Crying.” He gritted through his teeth the last three words before leaning over once again, his face very close to mine just like before.

“You’re telling me it’s a coincidence then?” He asked in a playful tone, clearly mocking me.

Fuck I wanted to make a run for it and get away from here. My heart was trying to beat out of my chest the longer I spent time here, the only thought running through my mind was: I am going to die here. How else would I end up? He had killed a man that had told him what he wanted to know, so no matter what I said he would kill me, right? Stammering a bit, I nodded the best I could with legs still around my neck, “Yes, I hadn’t seen you were here, I-“

“You’re funny! I’ll give you that! God you’re-“ He pulled back and made a rapid movement of his arms approaching me, as if putting me on display, “You’re fun! Ran, let her go.” The first part was said in excitement, the latter in the utmost seriousness. The moment he had spoken those words, the man let go of my neck and I was about to stumble when the Reaper grabbed me by the shoulders. He was tall, strangely tall, way above average, and it only added to all the traits that already made him scary. My whole body tensed, I thought this was it. He glared at me for a few moments before speaking to one of his friends, his gaze never leaving mine, “What do we know?”

An unknown voice reached my ear, it was close, so it must have been the other man on the crate, “Seems like a civilian, said she was an accountant. She also seemed surprised when the vermin said Silas&Son.” That perked the Reaper’s interest.

“Oh, so the little girl knows things. Have they sent you?” He asked, forcing me to look up by gripping my chin once more. He did not care the amount of strength he used, he couldn’t care less if I was uncomfortable, to him I was just a puppet that he could throw around and play with. Clearly he was right since I moved along and did not fight back. If I did, I would die, I was sure of it. “I was walking home from work—I saw my usual path was blocked and people were ganging up against a man so I-“ “You ran? The rat isn’t one for conflict, eh?” He patted my head and smiled almost reassuringly before letting go of me, making sure I fell on the floor. “Then? Make this quick, this ain’t the time for a bedtime story.”

“I called the police so that they could check—they said it was none of their business so I tried again and you-“ Fuck I was stuttering, the stress was too much and once I had fallen on my back, he was a lot more intimidating. He could just pull out his gun and shoot me, I could not get up with how I was shaking.

“You tried to do the right thing, right?” He asked, his back now turned to me. I could not gauge his emotion, so I replied sincerely, “Yes, it was all that I could do-“

Suddenly he turned around and pointed a gun at me, grinning, “Wrong! You could have helped the poor, poor man on the street, yeah? But you didn’t, why?” I did not reply right away, so he waved the gun around before crouching right in front of me and taking a good look at me. “They were too many-“ “That never stops a hero, does it? It’s all about charisma, determination, letting your body act faster than your brain, no?” He asked rhetorically, but while I waited for him to continue he sighed and looked down, his gun dropping lower as his arm fell limp. He started mumbling to himself a moment, using the gun to scratch his hair. Perhaps it was not the most adequate time to do so, but I looked at his outfit and saw he was wearing suit pants and a white business shirt. Quite the outfit for a murderer, but he had made sure to pull his sleeves up to not stain it. He was right in doing so since all the blood from earlier was on his black gloves and his forearms.

“Tell me, rat,” He slowly looked up and gave me a wicked smile, “Are you a hero?” He brought the gun to my forehead and all I did was close my eyes in fear. A sob escaped my lips as I tried to back away, but I was only met with the wooden crate, accidentally bumping my head against the shoes of one of the men sitting on it. “Do you believe there is good in this world? That it deserves to be saved? Hm? Would you die for this pathetic excuse of a world?” He pressed the gun even more against my skin. I heard the click as he disengaged the safety and tried to close my eyes even more than how I had already shut them, but found it impossible. My entire body was shaking, there was no helping the sobs escaping my mouth even by covering it.

I felt a gentle hand push my hand away and opened my eyes in confusion, only to see that the man who was holding a gun against me was grinning, “Answer the question.” He turned the gun horizontally and rested his arm on his knee as he placed his head on his free hand, completely relaxed. Getting lost in thoughts, I stared emptily at him while he started counting down, “Three…” Am I a hero? How would one describe a Hero? None of the mythological heroes could define me, none of those famous franchises either. “Two, think faster.” What answer did he want? Should I give him what he wants, or should I just be honest? “One-“

“I’m not a hero, I didn’t call right away because he deserved it, I-“ Taking a deep breath, I tried to take a hold of myself and calm down the best I could. “He harassed people, no one ever did anything about it-“

“See! Wasn’t hard, was it? Good girl,” He patted my head before moving the gun under my chin and raising it with the end of the gun, his finger never leaving the trigger, “You’re also a bad person then, you’re like us, right? Some people do deserve to die!”

Shuddering, I took a shaky breath and inhaled, “I’m nothing like you-“ “If he died it’s because ye didn’t act quick enough, don’t you agree?” He inquired with a pleading look, the mockery never leaving his tone. “I don’t, no.” My words were followed by the gun leaving my person as the man stood up quickly and barked out a laugh before asking his friends if they had heard that, they only grumbled in reply. He tucked the gun in the back of his pants and I quickly let my head down in fear I had triggered him somehow, frightened it was the straw that broke the camel’s back. “I like you, accountant woman. I just wanna see one thing to know what I should do with you—well two, but I’ll start slow.” Bringing his arm behind his back, I tensed again but then felt the gun hit my ankle as he threw it at me.

“Shoot me,” He ordered as he crouched in front of me, his arms crossed over his knees while grinning broadly. “I killed a guy, right? I am bad, killing me should make you a hero.” His little speech was stupid, it only started a vicious cycle of death with no end. Killing a killer that killed one person? It’d make me a killer that killed one person, and so on. But he brought his hand to mine and wrapped my fingers around the handle of the gun before pressing it against his forehead. “Here, you can’t miss from this close, show me you got guts! Come on, do it.” That grin turned into something scary, manic, he was getting off on the thrill. But my hands were shaking, I had never held a gun before, never intended to, but tonight was nothing if not exceptional. When I tried to put my arm down, he grabbed my elbow and kept it up, “It’s you or me, come on, make this fun for both of us-“ “I’m not shooting you in the head! You’re insane-“

Hearing my words well, he barked a laugh then guided the gun to his heart, one of the men behind me sighed and told him to hurry up, but the Reaper only shushed him. “Here, then? Sounds better?” Nothing was right in his head; I couldn’t understand what he was doing. No matter how hard I tried, I did not know the point he was making, but taking all this time to think about it made me lose the position of power he had given me. Forcing my hand to let go of the gun, he took it and, at the speed of light, put it in my mouth, making a sob escape it as he did so. “That’s a missed opportunity, too bad.” He shrugged then as I saw him press the trigger. I closed my eyes, my hands gripping my thighs so tight, it must have left some marks under the fabric of my pants.

The click of the trigger echoed, and I felt myself jump on the spot at how loud the bang was—so this is it? That thought crossed my mind rapidly, but was shoved aside by the loud ringing in my ears. I then heard footsteps echoing around the warehouse. The gun was no longer in my mouth, there were no bullets, it was a blank; I felt my stomach churn and opened my eyes in panic before pushing my tormentor away. I was surprised when he let me do so, but it was better for him. Slamming my hands down, I was on the floor as I emptied my stomach on the concrete. Chuckles reached my ears along with the whispers of a few words, “Can’t even stomach a bit of gun play.” “Should have killed her, blood stench leaves easier than vomit.” The latter comment made one of them laugh.

When I was done, I thought for a second that death was quick, most of the time. And when it wasn’t, you expected it, you weren’t filled with stress. Hence why no one ever spoke of post-mortem vomit. It made me laugh only for a second until I was pushed back on my ass when the man with the earring pressed his foot against my chest, making me wince. “Your name, what is it?” he asked seriously.

Feeling some sort of confidence build up, I looked up at him and leaned over, using the hem of his pants to wipe my mouth, but did not answer. The seriousness on his face turned into the look of someone who had been challenged; he snapped his fingers, then I heard someone say my name, my birthdate and my birthplace. Looking at the person who kept reading out loud, I saw the man with a tiger tattoo on his neck approach before tossing my wallet at me. I did not know when they had found the time to pickpocket me, but they managed to. My cheeks were burning up from the sickness, the stress and the embarrassment this entire situation brought but I still tried to keep my head high, for what it was worth. Bringing my hands to my face, I only now felt the tears that had rolled down my cheeks.

“Okay little tattletale, I think I’ll let you go for now-“ “Are you not going to kill me? Isn’t this what you do?” I asked in a weak voice, not even attempting to get up after all the time you had been mishandled. Both the man with the earring and the tattooed one were standing in front of me. The former reached out for my hand to help me get up, I did not take it, so he sighed loudly and bent over to grab my bicep and forcefully get me up. “We only kill snitches and annoying fucks, are you one of those?” I was about to tell him no when he leaned over suddenly and pressed his index against my lips to shut me up. Startled, I tried to step back but he held the back of my head with his free hand and beamed, “No, you’re not. You’re gonna be useful, you’re just the right amount of malleable,” The finger that had left my mouth moved to tuck a strand of hair behind my ear, I shivered in disgust, “I can see it in your eyes that you’ll be a fun one to work with.”

I tried to pull away from him, but his hand gripped my hair tight and kept me in place, stopping me from leaning back when he approached closer, “Since you’re not a hero, we’ll make you a villain then—I mean, it’s not going to be hard considering your stance on killing.” He grimaced at that before turning it into a full laugh and letting go of me.

“Rindou, take her back to her place-“ “I’m not doing that, I got plans with Ran. Send the tiger boy, we’re done for tonight.” The one with purple hair and glasses said as he hopped off the crate, followed by the other man on it. It made the Reaper’s face turn sour as he gripped the one who had just spoken and tightened his hold on his shoulder, “I don’t do escorting, that’s your job.” He gritted through his teeth.

Seeing the tension, I put my wallet back in my bag and cleared my throat, “I’ll—I can walk home on my own, by now they must be gone-“ All of them looked at me with a threatening gaze, I felt like a deer caught in headlights. The man with the braids started walking off, Ran was his name I believe, along with the man with the tattoo on the neck, while the two others stayed right there and glared at me. When I took a step back, taking their silence for permission, the Reaper wrapped his arm around my shoulders and held me close to him, “Right, I’ll do it tonight. Just because she’s a fun one-“ “I can walk home alone, it’s no problem,” I tried to push him away, my hands were shaky and had a few scraps. Without the constant manhandling, not that I missed it, I could feel the dampness of my clothes and how cold it was getting.

Looking down at me without any expression on his face, the Reaper turned us around and waved everyone goodbye, his arm never leaving my shoulders. “We both know that’s not true, if we let you walk home alone you might get beaten up by—how did you put it? ‘Gang members’, yeah, that was what you said on the phone.” He hummed, shoving his free hand in his pocket as he guided us outside. I felt uneasy in his hold, I felt like he was walking me towards my execution. I did not want to lead him to my house, but what choice did I have? He would find it sooner or later; at least that’s what he said, but I did not know how much truth there was to it. In my eyes, it was but a small group of violent men that had killed someone.

“In the end you did get beaten up by a gang member, but it could’ve been worse.” He said lightheartedly as he stopped in front of a car. When I paused my steps and still did not look at him, simply waiting for his next move, I felt him grab my chin and turn my head towards him. My breath hitched in fear as I met his golden eyes. He seemed a bit bored now, but I couldn't care less how he felt, I wanted to bolt away from his touch. “You should disinfect that, and you’ll definitely bruise, but you probably have makeup or something to hide that.” He shrugged.

When he leaned over again, I brought my hands in front of me and closed my eyes to stop him from touching me, but I only heard him huffing a laugh next to my ear as he opened the door of the passenger seat. “Get in, I’ll drop you off.” Looking up at him, I blinked a few times then glanced at the inside of the car. I don’t know what I was expecting, something dirty, bloody, disgusting perhaps. But instead, it was perfectly clean, not a speck of dirt in sight. It looked like an expensive car, but perhaps it was just very clean, I did not know. Still unsure, I hesitantly got inside and was about to close the door but felt a certain strength holding it back. The man was leaning on the door and bent over to peek his head inside the car, thinking he needed something. I pressed myself more against the seat to let him grab what he wanted, but his hand reached for the belt and fastened it for me.

“Wouldn’t want you to escape—ah, I mean, safety first.” He said mockingly before winking and slamming the door shut. My hands found their way to the belt and held it tight as I watched him walk around the car. His steps were too big for me to make a run for it, he would catch up on me in no time, I was stuck with him. As he entered the vehicle and fastened his own seatbelt, he pointed at the glove box and handed me his gloves, “Put them back and hand me a wipe, tattletale.”

His craziness was a lot more toned down, for a second I wondered how many faces this man had. The one I was seeing right now was intimidating from how put together he seemed, the other one was scary from how unexpected his actions were. “Why aren’t you killing me?” I asked without looking at him, focused on pushing the gun out of the way inside the glove box and grabbing the little pack of wipes. Giving it to him, his brow was quirked, “Because you’re a good girl,” He grinned, wiping his hands as he continued, “No one would ever suspect you’re working with the likes of a gang. You’re gonna be useful and that’s all that matters, you should be thankful I didn’t kill you. I hate people who eavesdrop.” He said, as he shoved the wipe in the door compartment.

“I didn’t eavesdrop.” I muttered, looking outside the window when he started the car. The laugh that erupted out of nowhere scared me, making me tense again, I dared to look his way and saw his manic smile again. “So, you’re an accountant, pretty boring. You should be thrilled I chose you.” He said in a mix of pride and humor before increasing the volume of the music then drumming his fingers on the wheel. Thinking about his words some more, I glanced his way and lowered the volume, catching his attention as he looked me dead in the eyes. “What if I don’t want to work with you?” I asked, measuring my tone to not piss him off, it did not take a genius to understand this man was unstable and that I needed to tread lightly around him.

Even with as much care as I put in my voice, his reaction was sudden when he turned the wheel and stopped the car on the side of the road. Passing cars honked in annoyance but the man did not care one bit while I had slammed my hand on the dashboard to stop my head from hitting it. Insulting him under my breath, I looked up and saw he had placed his arms on the wheel, his left cheek resting on his forearm. “Then leave. Get out right now, nothing’s stopping you.”

“What’s stopping me is that you’ll kill me, or you’ll run me over, multiple times,” I could see the smile on his face was spreading, but he did not move. The condescendence in his lack of reaction, of action, annoyed me but at the same time frightened me, was he going to slam my head against the window? Against the dashboard? I did not know, but I continued, stammering this time from how nervous I was becoming, “My life is on the fucking line, that’s what’s holding me back.” I spat. My eyes had never left his, even as his smile turned into a grin and his slender fingers gripped the wheel tighter.

When he did not look away, I did. At the same time, I turned on the seat and fully looked ahead instead of facing him. A silence set for a moment then I heard the car start and the man sighed, content, “You’re smart to stay, you’re only alive because I can use you. If you had left, I’d have shot you and left you on the side of the road to die.” He said in a light tone. The words he had spoken had the same effect of a bullet; my guts took a hit without being truly hit. I did not have a choice at all, I was stuck working for a man I did not know without even knowing what I had to do.

His hand rose and I closed my eyes, flinching slightly, “Type in your address, tattletale.” With the little confidence that remained, I lifted my shaky hand and typed it in while telling him that I had a name. Then added, “You should use it. Maybe there is a name I can call you by?” I was not asking for his ID, nor anything specific, if he had a codename in his stupid gang or something like that I would go with it, but calling him Reaper in my head sounded idiotic. “Sorry doll, I think nark or snitch suits you a lot more.” He hummed a moment, throwing me a glance from the corner of his eyes as his hands moved on the wheel absent-mindedly. Huffing in annoyance, I placed my elbow against the window and rested my chin against my fist, thinking he was done. After all, why should I care what he called me? I should simply call him an asshole if he was so keen on calling me a snitch. Or perhaps I should live up to the title and do exactly that, tell the police.

A hand wrapped around my wrist and pulled me out of my daydream with my head bumped against the window. Wincing in pain, I heard the man laugh loudly while being focused on the road, “That’s deserved for not paying attention.” He said through laughter. “Pay attention to what? The road? I’m not the one driving-“ “To me, you should keep your guard up, snitch. Who knows what I could do.” He said with a deadpan expression. Without looking at me, he brought his hand to tuck my hair out of the way, then glanced at me and smirked. His touch was light, almost gentle. It allowed me to get a proper look at his tattoo, but I could not focus on it at all, I only tensed up before feeling him grip my throat and bring me closer to him. I made a choking sound and complied to avoid as much pain as possible, “You can call me Hanma, as long as you don’t scream it from every fucking rooftop.”

I could feel tears welling up in my eyes. This night was not going as planned at all and every time I found any respite, it would be ruined, and the man would turn violent again. I could not let my guard down, I knew it but when he would just stay put, I could not help myself but think he was done. Clearly he wasn’t. His hold lessened a bit, so I took the opportunity to claw his hand away and pull myself back, my own hand around my throat in protection. “They called you the Reaper.” I croaked, wanting him to talk more so that I wouldn’t have to.

“They did, yeah.” He shrugged.

That was it. He did not add anything else. The matter was closed. When I asked him why they did that, he pulled the car on the side of the road again, startling me in the process. With how on edge I was, I did not realize where we were and thought he would be mad again, but instead he looked over my shoulder and nodded, “That’s you, get out.” He told me as his left arm rested on the wheel while the right one was on the back of the seat, casually leaning on it while looking at me. Looking behind me, I saw my house and felt some hope at finally being able to get home and yet… I did not leave right away and instead prodded, “The news talks about your gang, how many people did you kill?” His eyes traveled from my head to my hands then up to my head again, the arrogance never leaving his face as he leaned back against the car door and waved a hand dismissively, “Take a guess, I think it should be fun.”

I was about to give him a number when he leaned forward quickly, his face right in front of mine as he whispered, “Don’t forget those in comas or those at the hospital, they might not be dead, but they might as well be,” He chuckled happily then approached even closer, his lips right next to my ear, “They’re only alive because I said they could be, like you are. One wrong move and,” leaning back quickly, he clapped his hands, “Bang, dead.” He said dead meaning those in the hospital, but I fully understood he was threatening me, I was not an idiot.

Taking this as my cue to go, I unbuckled my seatbelt and when I was about to open the door, I heard the mechanism of the car locking it. Turning around to look at Hanma, I wordlessly asked if he needed anything else. His hand reached out towards me, “Your phone.”

“I didn’t record this or anything, I was not on a call with the police either, I-“ snatching it from my hand while I was rambling, Hanma tried to unlock it but instead was met with a locked screen. Hesitantly, I took it from his hand, mine being a lot shakier than his seeing how steady his were and unlocked it before giving it back to him. A minute passed and he handed the phone back to me, “We’ll be in contact. Things are gonna change for you, doll. Hope you’re ready for what’s coming.”

He was an unusual character, he was confusing, violent, and surely insane. All of those things added up in my mind, making me accidentally let it slip, “How can one be ready with you? Crazy man…” I said it all under my breath and huffed the last part as I pushed the door open. I let out a sigh when the door opened easily, part of me even thanked the man for not keeping me in any longer but I was still on my toes, certain he would say something else as I left the car, but he did not.

Grabbing my bag, I shuffled away from the car that still hadn’t moved and kept glancing over my shoulders until I reached the door where I struggled to put the key in the keyhole. At each failed attempt my frustration grew, the swears flooded out of my mouth easily and soon it turned into a stupid crying of frustration. “Fuck this, fucking shit-“ when the key finally fit, I hurried inside and locked the door behind me again but this time with the sliding lock, knowing full well I would struggle again too much to lock my door with the key seeing how tensed I still was.

The darkness of my home was what welcomed me. It was awful, it was cold and above everything it felt oppressive—my face was heating up, I was suffocating, my clothes were burning my skin, but I was also shaking. Fanning my face, I made my way to the bathroom with heavy steps, my breath was quickening, was it breathing or heaving? I needed to calm down, I needed to ground myself but I did not know how, this never happened but I felt like I was dying. I could not breathe, my lungs hurt at each intake of breath. “Fuck, fuck, shit, calm down“ I panted while taking off my clothes, I needed to take everything off, I wanted to burn them, it was filthy, disgusting and smelled wretched.

As I took off my top, I caught a whiff of the stench of the warehouse and let out a sob but did not let it stop me even if I could not breathe. I removed the rest of my clothes and knelt by the bath, leaning over to turn the shower on but did not wait for it to be warm to step inside and let it pour all over my dirtied body. The coldness made me take a deep breath that seemed to have helped with the panic attack I was having, but it did not help the crying, so I let it all out while I was washing up. What have I gotten myself into? What happens next? What am I supposed to do now? Is he going to ask me to kill someone? Am I going to have to use a gun? I didn’t want to do any of those, I only walked by something I had nothing to do with and—letting out a scream of frustration, I sat down in the bath and let the water rain on me. I ran my hands through my wet hair and placed my elbows on my knees, grunting again, “I don’t do gangs… I do numbers, I don’t have time to murder people…” I mumbled.

Letting my own words sink in, I let out a chuckle at first and focused my gaze on the wall in front of me then laughed again, shortly. I don’t have time to murder people, yeah… “Because if you had time you would?” I asked myself jokingly as I stood up, laughing again. Shaking my head, I shut the shower off and got out, almost slipping on the water that had splattered around the bath. I hadn’t taken time to put a towel on the floor or prepare anything, fortunately I managed to balance myself and took one from the closet. Once I was dry, I wrapped my robe around my form and stopped in front of the mirror, taking a proper look at the damage I had taken.

The scratch on my cheekbone was bruised, there was another bruise on my neck that I could probably hide with a turtleneck, the season allowed it, and if not with a turtleneck then a scarf would do the trick. Disrobing myself just to take a look at the rest of it, I had some bruises on my arms where I was grabbed to be moved roughly, without counting the pain on my ass but no one would see that. Passing my tongue over my teeth, I was glad as I still had all of them, but my jaw hurt, “Did I bite the inside of my cheek? At what moment could-“ A flashback of when the man slapped me with full force appeared in my mind, fueling me with a bad feeling of uneasiness as I put back my robe. “Bastard…” I huffed before opening the door of my bathroom and stepping inside the dark room again. Talking to myself, I continued, “Nothing’s stopping me from telling the police, who does he think he is? I could very well call them, yeah…” I paused in my steps and scoffed dryly, “Not that they’d listen.”

The news was always talking about the gangs in the city, telling us that the police were working on stopping them, but no one knew the people that were supposed to defend and help were a bunch of sellouts, bribed out idiots. The system we had put our trust in had decided to fuck us over and to leave us to ourselves, it was because of them that I was in this situation. It’s not like it had been hard to stumble upon one of their gang meetings. They might claim discretion, but if anyone could find them, it was anything but. “Who am I kidding? I am fucked,” I barked a laugh and turned on the light, “Guess I am a gang member-“ I stopped dead in my tracks when I saw the man my thoughts were plagued with, sitting on my couch, his legs crossed with one ankle over a knee. “Not exactly, you still need to prove yourself. But I love the enthusiasm!” He said while placing an arm on the back of the couch and looking at me with a satisfied smile, not even fully facing me, only to look right ahead once he was done talking.

Usually, one would say don’t turn your back on your enemy, but he was the predator here, he had nothing to fear, I was the one shaking in my metaphorical boots. Deciding to not be useless, I was about to shuffle to the kitchen discretely when I saw him beckon me closer by bending his index finger. Thinking I could play it off as not having seen it, I took one step towards the kitchen when I heard him click his tongue over his teeth, “I said, come here.” Stopping dead in my tracks, I did not speak, and silently opened my bag to pull out my phone and start recording. His hand gripped the back of the couch and I heard him chuckle mockingly, “Ran said you were stupid, but we both know you’re not, now come.” Putting the phone properly on the furniture, I followed his order and walked up to him to stand right in front of him, my arms crossed over my chest to close my bathrobe up to my neck.

“How the fuck did you get in?” I spat. He was not driving, which meant he could not throw me out of a speeding car. He was not surrounded by other maniacs either, and if he had a gun and decided to shoot me, I would have proof of it. There was a semblance of safety, even amidst the fact that the man had broken in without caring. It led me to have some confidence.

The man grinned and leaned over, his elbows resting on his knees. His demeanor was one of a man in control, he knew he could do anything to me because I would bend, he said it himself, I was malleable. But not for lack of will, simply by fear. And if he kept bending me this much, I would not last long, I would break. As long as I feared him, he had the upper hand… but I was not feeling fearless yet. With a low chuckle, he simply said, “Broke in with pliers,” then showed me the pair of pliers lying on the couch. I glanced at my door and saw the chain of my lock was broken as he had said, but that loss of attention directed to him annoyed him. Snapping his fingers, he brought my attention back to him, “Here, you should make a double of your key-“ “I’m not doing that. First, you’ll pay me back for breaking my lock, then if you want to meet up for whatever you got planned for me, you pick a spot but not-“

My breath hitched when Hanma rapidly stood up, his form towering mine as he looked down at me with his hair falling randomly on his forehead. “We got a lotta confidence suddenly, don’t we? Go ahead, finish your sentence, I’m listening.” He cooed in a condescending tone, his face approaching mine as he hovered slightly over me. Looking up at him, I looked down to his chest feeling my confidence wane slightly. When I tried to step back, not liking how close he was to me, he placed his hand on my shoulder to stop me. “Come on partner, let it all out, you seem to have a lot on your mind. Keeping it all bottled up ain’t gonna end up well. We should get along if we’re gonna work together, yeah?” He said in a fake listening attitude, we both knew he didn’t care but I was riled up and clenched my fists.

“I don’t want you in my house, you’re a piece of shit. I don’t want to get along, I want you to fuck off—Get out.” I managed to say everything without stuttering, but his grip tightened on my shoulder, making me tense up even if it was not painfully tight. Simply knowing that nothing was holding him back, not his mind, nor his ethics, nothing. His mood was the turning point of his actions, which means one change of emotion could make him go feral and hit me, it scared me. Hissing mockingly, he tilted my chin up to make me look at him, a smirk adorning his face, “Make me leave then, do something about it.” Grabbing both my shoulders, he pushed me back slightly then spread his arms wide, a huge smile on his face, “Go ahead, I won’t do anything—it’s free hits,” He taunted. When I did not move, he pointed at his face and licked his lips like an animal looking at its next meal.

“Do it, show me your guts, little rat! I hit you right? I put a gun to your head, that must be so annoying, right?” Biting the inside of my cheek, I could feel my frustration building up inside me again. He had done all those things, and no regret was written on his face, none. He had killed a man, broken inside my house, manhandled me and hit me. He had mocked me, humiliated me, mistreated me and while it all happened in a short time span, I already felt strongly about him. Reminding myself all that, I hadn’t realized the hit that flew from my person until it landed on his jaw, my fist feeling like it had hit a wall. His face turned to the side by the end of the action.

Using the heel of his hand to wipe the blood that dripped from his mouth, he looked at me with hooded eyes and grinned, his teeth colored red, “That’s hot, but ye shouldn’t have done that.”

[Part 2]

[witch-hazels-musings]

Could you do some headcanons about Kaeya and Diluc with an s/o who really wants to dance with them (whether it be at a festival, party, at home, etc.) Also? I seriously respect the hell out of you for writing while working an 8-5 as someone who has to work a 9-5 and feels like i doesn’t even have time to shower at night. ｡ﾟ(ﾟ´ω`ﾟ)ﾟ｡ I hope you’re doing well! Please continue to grace us with your lovely presence!

I finished it!! Thank you for waiting for me! I hope you like it :D 

^ expanded the request a bit --- I also don’t know how Kaeya’s got to be so long - so an extra special gift from me to you 

warnings -> sfw, reader is pestered by some ppl, jealous characters :) 

Character X GN Reader | Anthology

Includes: Kaeya, Diluc, Childe, Albedo

Kaeya

When Kaeya asked you to be his partner to one of the largest events in all of Mondstadt, you were beyond excited - this was an opportunity you had been waiting for - you’d always wanted to dance with him, and this was the perfect opportunity to do so 

You did your best to get ready, not knowing if this or that outfit would be better to wear, and the anxiety of having to meet him at the event hall was weighing on you 

“Y/N!” You turned your head for the thousandth time, so many voices had called out to you the moment you descended the stairs, their eyes as powerfully overwhelming as their voices. Luckily, this voice was someone you were relieved to see. Amber gripped onto your hands and pushed herself between you and the many bodies standing just a bit too close. “You look incredible! I’ve only ever seen you in your adventure clothes.” 

“Haha, I couldn’t come to a ball dressed like that, could I?” You glanced down at your attire, it had taken you a long time to decide what to wear and even though you settled on this, and were getting compliment after complement, you only cared about one person's opinion. Where was he? 

“Well, you look incredible!” She gripped your wrist and pulled you along, shouting at people who refused to get out of the way, her peppy voice breaking through all the many others calling for your attention. It was strange to be the center of attention. You’d seen so many of these faces around town and they didn’t seem to notice you then, so why all the affection now? It made you feel self-conscious. 

When you were finally away from the sea of eager eyes, you took a deep breath. The new, less crowded space letting in relief to ease your nerves. 

You looked at Amber and smiled at her, she always seemed to know how to bring you just what you needed, her kindness knew no bounds and you were we happy to have a friend like her. “Have you been here long?” You asked her.

“Pretty much, I’ve been helping plan this event for a while. I’m happy for it to be over honestly, who knew planning something like this was so exhausting.” 

“Ha, maybe that’s why Diluc always has a sour expression on his face. Too many events.” 

“You’re probably right! Ah, can you imagine stern Diluc planning a party? I’d die.” She laughed and the cheery vibrations seeped into your weary skin, your nerves made it easier for you to have an emotional reaction and with her disposition you found yourself laughing with her. 

“So,” you looked out over the dance floor, noticing the tables full of food and drink, people standing in small circles chatting and laughing away. “Who else made it tonight?” 

“Oh, are you looking for someone in particular?” She tilted her head and smiled at your flustered state. 

“N-no … what … shut-up.” You frowned and looked away from her. 

“I think you’ll see him soon, he had something to do but it won’t take him all night.” She must have noticed your disappointment because in an instant she made the decision to get you something to eat and stuck to your side until you had a more natural smile on your face. 

Any excuse to be close to you he is all for, it doesn’t matter what the occasion is, he will find a way to hold you, touch you - he just cannot get enough of you 

When he invited you to the Favonious ball, he knew you’d quickly take up his offer and join him, there wasn’t a question in his mind that you would deny it 

He had several things to prepare for and was frustrated that he couldn’t bring you to the event himself, but he knew you’d show up and once you did he’d have all night to spend with you - that was if he could make his way through the barrage of people who were flocking to you as soon as you stepped through the door 

He stepped through the hallway, his footsteps echoing off the walls as he made his way toward the ballroom. Lisa had given him a few ‘last minute’ wardrobe adjustments, and while she cooed over how handsome he looked, he hated how tight the suit was around his neck. He pushed his finger between the collar of his dress shirt and pulled at it. 

As he turned the corner, he could already hear the sounds of the party drifting up toward him. He hoped it wasn’t too late, his work had kept him longer than he wished and it was well past the time that you said you’d be there. He was frustrated and eager to see your face. 

The light from the ballroom washed over him as he stepped onto the balcony. There were still plenty of people enjoying themselves below but he only cared about one. His eyes scanned the crowd, heart filling with dread as he failed again and again at finding you among them. Then he saw you, your back leaning against one of the pillars, your arms crossed around your chest, eyes looking at the outrider who seemed to be holding you in a lively conversation. 

He smiled and quickly made his way down the steps, his hands slipping into his pockets as he did so. 

People were engaged in discussions, which normally he would be interested in as these were great opportunities to gather information, but his focus was on something much more important. 

“I’m going to ask them…” A voice caught his attention so he slowed his pace. 

“Don’t even bother, they haven’t danced with anyone the whole night. They’ve just been talking with that brunette for hours.” 

“I’m pretty persistent; I know how to win someone over.” Kaeya looked at them, his gaze lingering for a moment before catching you in the same place you had been. He watched as they made their way toward you and the stab in his chest pulled at the back of his mind. Quickly, he unbuttoned the collar of his shirt, the freedom of it spurring him on as he pushed his way toward you. 

-- 

“Hey, I couldn’t help but notice you haven’t danced with anyone here. I know, you’ve just been waiting for me to ask you all night.” The man smiled at you, but there was something unsettling about the way he did it. 

“No thank you, I’m not interested.” 

“Come on, it’ll be fun. You won’t regret it.” You were getting irritated at this point, not only had he interrupted your conversation with Amber, but he wasn’t the only person to ignore your first no. 

“Again, I’m not interested.” You turned away from him hoping that if you didn’t look he’d just walk away. 

He placed his hand against the pillar and leaned in closer to you and you were about to show him how strong your disinterest was when you heard a familiar voice.

“How rude of me to keep you waiting for so long, I came as soon as I could.” You looked behind the man and saw Kaeya standing there in formal attire, his beauty seemed to know no limits - frustrating. 

“Kaeya!” You stood, disregarding everything and flashing him the brightest smile you could. 

“Am I too late for a dance?” He held out his hand to you and without hesitation you took it. He led you to the dance floor leaving behind a confused, dejected suitor and excited Amber in your wake. 

He spun you around as soon as you reached the dance floor, a hand resting on your hip and the other holding your hand. “You look stunning, did you get dressed up all for my sake?” He looked down at you and his smile made your legs weak. 

“Maybe … don’t let it go to your head.” 

“Too late.” He laughed and you forgot how much you missed him. It didn’t matter how long you waited, for him, you would wait an eternity. 

“I heard a rumor about you.” 

“What rumor?” You looked up at him and caught the mischief in his eyes. 

“That you haven’t danced with a single person here, is that true?” 

“... It is … I only …” You looked down at his chest before continuing. “I only wanted to dance with you.” 

His hands squeezed around your hip and you felt him pull you closer, “How lucky am I. Sorry I made you wait.” 

“No! You don’t have to apologize.” Your head shoots up to meet him, your voice a bit louder than you planned, but he doesn’t seem to mind. 

“Well let’s give them all a show, shall we? I mean, I have to make sure they know they’ll never stand a chance.” The two of you spend the rest of the night together, the jealousy of all those who wished they were Kaeya apparent as they started to fade away the longer the two of you held one another. Kaeya couldn’t be happier, he was completely fine with them dropping all hope of being yours - that space was for him and him alone. 

Diluc

You were having a great time enjoying the festivities. Practically everyone had been invited to the winery to celebrate the coming of the new season, it was one of the most popular events that could happen 

The two of you had been catching each other here and there, but with how busy he was taking care of everything, and how popular you were becoming as a dance partner or at least an interested dance partner, the two of you continued to drift past the other

Diluc was getting more and more irritated as the evening went on. There were so many things distracting him from where he desperately wanted to be. Instead of being at your side, he was busy hosting conversation after conversation with potential business partners, dealing with the drunkards who couldn’t seem to keep a responsible handle on their booze, and drifting between staff to make sure they had what they needed. 

Reasons like these were why he typically avoided hosting events, but it was always fruitful and he needed to keep old connections and build new ones. Still, when he had a second and his eyes drifted through the crowd to find you, he felt the heat rise in his chest as he watched you dancing in the arms of someone other than him. He wasn’t mad at you of course, he was frustrated with himself that he allowed others to touch you, you were just too kind - a trait he loved, but one that also pulled at his heart. 

“They are incredible.” He heard someone share with their friend. Glancing up from his work he saw just who they were in discussion about. 

“I wonder if they are seeing anyone?”

“I haven’t heard anything …Hey, If you don’t go for it, I will!” They laughed and while he couldn’t tell if their intentions held any weight, he hated that the idea was even present in their minds. Again, it was on him that people didn’t know you were seeing one another. The two of you looked like good friends with the way you respected his boundaries, and his reservation at being expressive with his affections for you. He clenched his jaw before walking away. 

--- 

Your legs were starting to ache from the amount of activity you were requesting of them. So many people had asked you to dance, and you didn’t want to be rude, as a guest of Diluc’s you wanted to make sure to be as kind and thoughtful as you could. However, with the amount of energy you were expending on everyone else you were starting to feel the effects of it all. So when several more, slightly persistent, patrons came to ask you to dance, you found yourself leaning to decline. 

“Excuse me,” they began, “If you would be so kind, I’d love to have the next dance with you.” You looked up at them and saw their nervous smile. It hurt to reject them, but you desperately wanted a break. 

“Thank you, but I’m going to have to respectfully decline.” You nodded your head and noticed there were other eager dance partners standing behind them. “I need to rest a bit, everyone has been so lively, and I’m running out of stamina.” You laugh in an attempt to make your rejection more lighthearted. 

“If you don’t want to dance, we can do something else!” They sat down next to you, their arms perched on the table, body leaning in way to close. They began to ask you questions, which was fine until they started to get more and more personal. You did your best to answer them, but when they asked the next question it was a challenge to get them to accept your response. 

“Everyone is dying to know,” another asked, you turned your head to them and waited, “are you seeing anyone?” 

You averted your gaze before responding, “Yes. I am.” 

“What!?” | “There is no way?” Their voices hit you at once and the loudness of their shouting drew eyes from other party-goers. They badgered you for a bit, all asking different questions at the same time, making it hard to hear them all. One stuck out and when they spoke the group got quiet. 

“I’ve never seen you with anyone.” You looked at them, their arms crossed and lips turned into a frown. “You’re pulling our legs.” 

“No, I really am seeing someone.” 

“I don’t believe it, you're just using that as an excuse.” Their words made you angry. You didn’t own them anything and you were being plenty kind, and, that kindness, was starting to grow thin. “Tell us who it is and then we will believe you.” They placed their hand on the table and looked directly into your eyes. You were about to answer them when you were interrupted by the person himself. 

“Y/N.” He spoke and the voices around the table died down, you looked at him and felt unbelievable relief. 

“Diluc.” You stood and walked toward him, his hand open for you, a gesture you were surprised by. Carefully, you placed your hand in his and scratched the side of your head. 

He looked at you, his eyes heavy on your skin. “Sorry I’ve been so busy.” 

“It’s okay, I don’t mind waiting.” His thumb rubbed the back of your hand, there was no way people couldn’t notice how much that affected you. 

“Hey! What’s going on … are the two of you …?” The person stood up and placed their hands on their hips. Their shouting drew the eyes of others again and everyone at the table stilled as they waited for a response. 

“Yes, and I ask that you don’t cause them any trouble; I won’t tolerate it.” His tone had a hint of a threat and it made your chest tight. There was a shockwave of disbelief that ran through the crowd, and the whispering made your ears burn. Diluc looked at you and you looked back, “Shall we?” 

“Mhm.” 

You followed after him, his broad shoulders a sight you never got tired of seeing and when the two of you held each other in movement to the music, you knew there would be no secret to your relationship now. Diluc made that clear from his words to his actions, and as the music began to fade and the sun dipped below the cliffs, he bravely showed his feelings for you as his lips touched your cheek. 

Childe 

He’d be all about showing you off to others - he wants to make it clear that you and he are an item no matter where you were

You went with him back to his home-town. It was a long trip, but so worth it to be with him, to see where he grew up. It took a while to get used to the chilly weather, and in fact you had to layer up extra carefully in order to bear the cold

His family had prepared for him a welcome party and had practically invited everyone they could to celebrate his return. Even if they knew it was only temporary, as his membership with the Fatui often kept him on the move, still, it was nice to feel so loved and welcomed with such a joyous event. 

They also knew he would be bringing someone special back with him. It was a demand which plastered every letter he received from his siblings. He knew if he didn’t bring you along there would be a reception colder than the snow that never melted. 

Of course, the two of you arrived hours before the start of the celebration. This gave his siblings and other family plenty of time to introduce themselves to you. They asked you question after question and when it was finally time to get ready for the party, you noticed how rough your voice had become. You definitely knew that Childe was a member of this family, he too knew how to wear out your voice. 

Childe changed clothes quickly, it had been so long since he wore those clothes from this region. As he looked in the mirror, the way the outfit rested snuggly against him, it made him even more nostalgic than he already was. He was waiting out in the large living room, his mind playing out memories of his childhood in this house when a sound caught his attention. 

His younger siblings giggled and shouted in excitement and as he turned to see what was all the fuss he felt the air in his lungs leave him. You were dressed in a traditional style outfit, your hair styled to fit your attire, hands fussing with the clothes you weren’t used to wearing. When you looked up at him and smiled shyly he felt an incredible urge to lock you behind closed doors and not let anyone lay their eyes on you. 

You walked toward him, ignoring the loudness of his siblings, “They said this would be okay … Do I … look alright?” 

“You look incredible.” 

“Thank you.” You drop your head, looking at your hands and he desperately wants to pull your face back to him, but is interrupted before he gets the chance. 

“Let’s go already, big brother!” Teucer shouts, already standing at the door. 

“Shall we?” Childe extends his elbow to you and you take it. 

---

He had been watching you dance with the members of his family for a while, and while it moved his heart to see you laughing and doing your best to learn the moves, he wanted to hold you in his arms himself. He wanted you, to have you experience his traditions first hand through him. So, when he couldn’t handle it any longer, he finally asked you to dance. 

“You all have been keeping them so busy … I’m going to steal them back now.” He exclaimed, barging into the game you had been playing with his younger siblings. 

“That’s not fair! You’ve been able to keep them to yourself for so long. We want to play more.” 

“You can after I’ve had my fun, let’s go.” He pulled you away and their cries sounded as you drifted further from them. 

“I was winning!” You exclaimed, laughing as he pulled you behind him.

“It’s my turn to have your attention.” He turned and pulled you close to him. You could feel his energy through his fingertips, it was familiar, like the time he saw you talking to that stranger in one of the bars of Liyue. 

“Childe, you can’t seriously be jealous of your family.” 

“You don’t know me at all, do you.” He spun you around and when you realized you were out on the dance floor you knew you were in trouble. 

“I’m not very good at this yet.” You try to explain to him but it falls on deaf ears. 

“I’ll teach you, just follow my lead.” He nodded to the musicians and they began to warm up, their music drowning out the chatter. Quickly, he leaned down and kissed your forehead before offering some last minute encouragement, “Let me show them all how spectacular you are.” 

He loved every second of this. The way your feet stumbled over his as he moved with you across the dance floor, the way your face flashed through different expressions: joy, concern, embarrassment, confidence. He couldn’t get enough of you, there was never enough of you. How was he ever going to be satiated with you around, especially when you were embracing his home, his family with such unbound acceptance. 

He wanted to swallow you up, he wanted to lock you to him for the rest of time, and the more you let him take, the stronger his desire became. 

As the music drifted into its final crescendo he lifted you in his arms and spun you around. There were countless couples surrounding you, all shouting and cheering on the excitement that rippled from the center of the dance floor. When he stopped and you slid a bit down his chest, your shoulders at the height of his chin, hands gripping tightly on his shoulders and face dipping down to him with a smile that told him everything he ever needed to know about you, he let the words fall from his mouth, finally being as honest as he ever had been. 

“I love you.” 

Albedo

Albedo wasn’t too fond of parties and get-togethers, it was a lot of energy to expend on the discussions or interactions which he’d much prefer to stay clear of, at least if he can get away with it. Still, he had promised to make an appearance, and when he saw you he was much more inclined to stay

He loved to watch you have a great time, you were so independent, doing things whenever you felt like it and experiencing life as it happened. Unless it was explicitly told to others, most wouldn’t have any idea that the two of you were seeing each other. Most of the time that wasn’t a problem, as your busy schedules kept you distracted, but as he watched you mingle with the citizens and partake in the festivities, and how you drew the attention of interested eyes, he was starting to get jealous

These sorts of festivals drew in travelers from all over Teyvat. Most of them only blew in with the wind while others stayed longer after the final banner was removed. It was something that almost everyone in Mondstadt took part in, even those who often didn’t get out much -- and he was one of them. 

Albedo made his way through the streets greeting citizens as he passed by, a quick nod or hello here and there. It was Sucrose who had encouraged him to take a break, reminding him that he was likely to see you down in the festivities. So, he put away his work for the day and headed out of the research labs toward the cheering below. 

When he saw it was like the sun shined on his face for the first time in days. He felt so warm and was eager to reach you. As he got closer, he couldn’t help but notice the many faces that were turned to you. It was strange but he tried not to let that oddity hender him in any way. That’s when he started to hear the conversation you were having with someone, the closeness of them to you, and the way they didn’t seem to leave you alone.

It wasn’t like him, either, to let his emotions get the better of him, but having to listen and watch others take notice of you, something inside of him grew and he wanted to make sure they knew their hands would never reach yours.

--

“Hey.” A man walked up to you and injected himself in the conversation you were having. You stopped what you were doing and glanced at him, curious. “Would you be interested in dancing with me?” 

“Oh, I’m sorry, I’m not much of a dancer.” You smiled at him and tried to let him down easy. In fact you’d love to dance, but only if it was with a particular person, and he didn’t seem to be around at the moment.

“It’s okay if you aren’t, I’m happy to teach you some moves.” He took a step closer and his first impression of friendliness was slipping into pushiness. 

You started to tap your fingers against your leg, the motion becoming more intense the closer he got. “Really, I’m not a good dancer, you’ll find more luck with someone else.” 

“Come on, it’ll be fun.” He reached for your hand but was blocked by another. When you looked at the owner and saw it was Albedo, your stomach flipped. 

“Albedo?” You turned to him, a smile on your face and relief in your voice. 

“Excuse me, but I believe they said they weren’t interested?” 

“... ha, what are you their boyfriend?” They laughed and continued talking, “Listen, why don’t you let …” 

“Yes, I am.” Albedo interjected, cutting the person off. 

“What?” 

“We are together.” They looked confused, their eyes moving back between yours and Albedo’s. Albedo looked down at you and noticed the expression on your face, “Is that not the right way to describe our relationship?”

“No! I mean, yes, that’s right.” You looked at the person and gestured to Albedo, “This is my boyfriend, I’m his … we’re together, yes.” You nodded your head way too many times, but the point seemed to get across to them anyway. They left in a huff and you watched them leave before standing and turning to Albedo. 

It was the first time the two of you had ever really said those words out loud - of course you knew in your minds that you were a couple … but to say the term which let the outside world know of your relationship, well it was so exciting 

You felt your face get hot as you remembered how factually he had spoken, how quickly he answered their question. You couldn’t help but pat your face and pinch your cheeks 

After that, the two of you wandered through the festival, eating delicious food, participating in the activities, laughing and having interesting discussions, as you always did 

When night started to drift over the event and only a few people remind in the city center, you found yourself back in the place where your time together started, music drifting through the air 

You had such an incredible day. There were times the two of you were so busy that you would go days without seeing one another, so to spend an entire afternoon together was like a gift. 

“Today was incredible.” You express, the excitement and joy from the day making you click your tongue against the roof of your mouth. 

“I can tell you had a good day.” Albedo replies, smiling at you. 

“Oh, really?” 

“Yeah, you click your tongue like that when you’re happy … sometimes when you’re focused.” 

“Ah, really! I’ve never noticed.” 

“I think it’s cute.” He stepped closer and grabbed your hand, his grip soft and gentle. “So I know you don’t like to … I was wondering … would you like to dance with me?” 

“Yes!” You answered much quicker than he expected, your voice startling him a little. You covered your mouth and laughed, your eyes squinting. 

“Let’s go.” You took his hand and walked until the space felt right. Albedo let go of you before turning to look at you. With an elegant bow he requested your hand once again, you returned the gesture, not wanting to be rude and also trying your best to not scream with excitement. The music swelled and your bodies moved closer, his hands wrapping around your back while yours draped over his shoulders. You rested your head against his chest and let the wonderful day drift into a wonderful night, you and Albedo sharing in a moment with one another. No worries, no interruptions, just one another swaying to the sweet mixture of music and distant conversations. 

“I’m glad you could make it today.” 

“Me too.”

[wroetospotterwp]

Potion Partners

Pairing ✨- Fred Weasley x Fem!Reader

Summary 💓: Y/N is a quiet girl that stays clear from trouble, but that becomes difficult once she has to partner up with Fred Weasley in Potions.

Word Count 🖊: 1,724

A/N 🗣: hello all!! this is my first ever imagine on tumblr and first i’ve ever written really, so this is quite different to what i’m used to! but i hope you all enjoy anyway!

Warnings ⚠️: this is just fluff so i think we should be good

Requested? 📮 - nope

Masterlist

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷

It had been the one class Y/N had been dreading all day: Potions. It wasn’t that she wasn’t any good at the subject, she just didn’t like how Professor Snape treated the students and favoured others.

Y/N was not one of those favoured, unfortunately.

As soon as she had finished Transfiguration with Professor McGonagall, she raced to Potions, Snape couldn’t take housepoints from her if she arrived early. It took some time, but she finally arrived, only a few other students waiting outside the classroom. Clearly they had the same idea as her.

With a smile to her fellow classmates, she walked over to the stone wall and opened one of her books. Might as well spend the rest of time preparing for the class. It was quite peaceful, only the flames from the torches and quiet chatter from students were heard.

But of course, it didn’t stay quiet for long. A door behind Y/N swung open, slamming against the stone loudly. The noise completely startled the girl, dropping her books on the floor. Y/N quickly glanced up to see it was the Weasley twins that had just entered the corridor.

Fred and George Weasley. The class clowns of Hogwarts and two heartthrobs that the students of the school adored. Would Y/N be lying if she said she hadn’t fancied one of them? Completely. Fred Weasley had always a been a secret crush of hers since she first saw him, but who could blame her?

Unfortunately, girls like her didn’t stand chances with boys like him, and she had accepted that a long time ago.

Before the red head could catch her looking at him, she focused her attention back on the fact her books were completely sprawled along the stone floor. Y/N bent down and started to try and gather her books, lucky for her one of her fellow classmates started to help her pick them up.

“Thank you.” Y/N muttered before she stood back up and accepted the books from the classmate.

“No problem.” The voice accepted, Y/N looking up and seeing it was none other than Fred Weasley. Her eyes widened slightly, mentally kicking herself as she realised how strange she looked.

Y/N didn’t say anything, just gave a small smile and turned away from the tall Weasley. But he didn’t seem to be finished talking to her.

“That’s a lot of books you have there, Y/N.” Fred pointed out, which almost made Y/N’s heart leave her body. He knew her name?! She kept to herself and only had a few friends, nothing that would put herself out there enough for Fred to know her name.

“You know who I am?” Y/N quietly muttered, her cheeks starting to turn a bashful red. Oh how she was thankful that everyone else was focused on their own conversations to see what was happening.

Fred raised an eyebrow and let out a breathy laugh. “Course I do.” He replied, like it was just so obvious.

Fred Weasley had messed up here, he had only found out who Y/N was just a few months ago thanks to Angelina and Alicia. He was dragged to the library by his two friends and seen Y/N reading at the table herself. Immediately, he caught himself staring, how had he never noticed her before? She was beautiful.

He questioned his two friends and they informed him who Y/N was, but they didn’t know much about her themselves. Fred was desperate to find out more about the mystery girl, starting to try sit near her in classes and in the Grand Hall, hoping she didn’t think he was weird.

She didn’t notice most of these advances, and if she did, she avoided eye contact with him at all times, which he didn’t understand why, had he pulled a prank and she had fallen victim to it? He wasn’t sure.

Y/N didn’t have the chance to reply to Fred as the Potion’s classroom door opened, Professor Snape walking out and sternly looking at them all.

“Most of you will be unable to do this, but enter the classroom and stand by your desk.” Snape eyes fixated on Fred and George.” “Calmly”

Fred and George just smirked at their Professor as the rest of the class entered his classroom. Y/N smiled at Alicia Spinnet, who she shared a desk with, as they settled into the seats.

Snape didn’t seem to trust the Weasley Twins today, motioning them to get up from their seats as soon as they sat beside each other.

“I don’t believe that either of you can be trusted working with each other. So today you’ll be split up.” Snape informed them, Fred and George usually always worked together so most of the class were shocked at their Professor’s demand.

Snape had a very slight smile. “George with Miss Spinnet, Fred with Miss Y/L/N.” He requested them. Y/N couldn’t believe it, how was she going to work with Fred? Alicia got up from her seat and walked over to where George stayed seated, Fred getting up and walking over to where Y/N was seated.

“Alright?” He greeted as he sat down, Y/N nodding slightly, Godric how she hoped that it wouldn’t be this awkward the whole period.

Snape explained to them what potion they would have to produce today, Y/N writing down all the ingredients while Fred was busy balancing his quill on his forehead out of boredom.

“Do you want me to go collect the ingredients?” Y/N questioned, bringing back Fred into reality, who had just realised that the class had began to make the potion.

“I’ll go up.” Fred offered, getting up from his seat. “Are they all written down here?” Y/N nodded as she handed him the piece of parchment, her hand briefly brushing his, sending butterfly’s to her stomach.

Fred didn’t have a clue what half of these ingredients were, grabbing what he thought was each product and hoped for the best. He brought the stuff back over to Y/N, who raised a brow.

“Are you sure this is all the right stuff?” Y/N asked, scanning the stuff Fred had picked up.

“Of course.” Fred confidently replied. Y/N shrugged, picking up a bottle to start the potion when a hand went on top of hers. “I’ll do the potion, you can sit and relax.” He offered.

“Oh, Fred, it’s no problem.” Y/N gave a small smile. “Everyone else is working in partners, you don’t need to do everything.” She didn’t trust he knew what he was doing anyway, so she just hoped he let her help.

“I’m actually quite the potion’s master, Y/N.” Fred smirked as he began to add random ingredients to the caldron. That smirk kept the girl quiet, her face turning bright red and unable to respond.

Fred was surprised that Y/N was actually talking to him, and actually holding eye contact. He hoped for his sake that his random ingredients he picked up would benefit him and make the potion that was required.

But life would be too easy if that happened.

The potion exploded up in the air, barely missing both Fred and Y/N’s face. Fred let out a laugh at what just happened, not noticing the complete shock present on Y/N’s face. Her eyes looked to the front of the class to see Snape’s face.

Safe to say he was pissed off.

Snape gave them both detention, something Fred was used to and Y/N not so much. They stayed after class since it was the last period of the day and Snape demanded that they cleaned every caldron to be completely spotless.

Snape had left to go to speak to Professor Flitwick, so it was just Fred and Y/N, alone. For the first few minutes, it was silence. Y/N too busy scrubbing one of the cauldrons to notice that Fred had walked up beside her.

“You know, I’m quite happy we’re in detention together.” Fred smirked at her, Y/N thought he was having a joke around.

Y/N smiled at him. “Fred, you basically live in detention, why would this be any different?”

Fred faked offence to this. “You wound me woman, I actually have a life outside of detention.” He joked, Y/N letting out a laugh. “Seriously though, this had been my favourite one.”

“I’m glad my company has been fun.” Y/N giggled, starting to feel more confident around the red head.

“I’m just gonna go straight to the point.” Fred informed her, making Y/N stop cleaning the caldron for a moment. “Do you want to go to Hogsmeade together at the weekend? To the Three Broomsticks?”

Y/N raised a brow at the boy. “Are you asking me on a date?” She questioned, quite confused.

“That’s typically what a man does when he fancies a girl, yes.” Fred replied, Y/N didn’t trust him, this must be some sort of joke.

“Is this some sort of prank?” Y/N asked. “Make me think you’re interested and make a fool out of me for believing?”

“What kind of pranks do you think I do, Y/N?” Fred let out a laugh. “I’m sorry if I’ve pranked you in the past-“

“You’ve never pranked me, Fred.” Y/N interrupted. “I just didn’t think you liked me.”

“Lucky for you, I do.” Fred smirked, Y/N playfully rolling her eyes.

“So charming, Weasley.” Y/N beamed, she felt so much better about talking to him, she needed to tell him she felt the same way. “I’ve liked you…for a quite a while now.”

“No one can resist me so it’s understandable.” Fred joked, he couldn’t help himself, could he? Always making a joke about anything and everything.

Fred began to lean closer, eyes flickering from Y/N’s plump lips and her gorgeous eyes. Y/N leaned forward too, this would be her first kiss, she hoped it would go alright.

Their lips pressed together and it was like the both of them had been together for years, they fit together like jigsaw pieces. They were too busy in the moment with each other to notice the classroom door swing open, the Slytherin head entering.

Professor Snape never partnered Y/N and Fred ever again after what he seen.

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷

i ramble on so much and at the end i felt like i rushed it! i need to figure out how to write these because i’m not sure this was that good, but i tried! first imagine so go easy on me if this is bad!! i’m used to writing fics hahah

my requests are open btw! :)

taglist: @malfoysstilinski @drearyxo @just-a-bittersweet-tragedy @fizzleberries

[infernalrevenge]

Alright, playing off of the overprotective Heisenberg. What if Reader doesn't come back and when he does go looking they are injured badly?

Damn bro you're really going for hurt, huh? I love it HAHAHAHA let's go!!!! I'm making this a drabble, I think it would be better suited for this.

(TW violence in one paragraph, because I might have gotten a little carried away with how Karl saves Reader.)

----------

Heisenberg looked up at the digital clock above his work station, turning off his equipment and tools for a moment. The rain outside had just stopped, and you weren't back yet -- there were no familiar footsteps, no calling out for him to get work done and over with... nothing but the clanking noises and thrum of machinery.

You wouldn't be out for this long, not without telling him. Something was wrong.

He immediately ventured out into the forest behind his factory, calling for his lycans to send them out as a search party. Covered more ground that way, in case you got too far. Not that he thought you would up and leave him, no. He could think of worst things.

He strained to listen for anyone calling out for help, trying to ignore the pounding in his ears as worst case scenarios crept into his head. If all he could hear were the growls of those damn lycans, the leaves rustling in the wind, and the snap of a twig underneath his feet -- where did you fit in? Surely, you would've called out by now if you needed help. Surely... you wouldn't be...

No, now was not the time -- you were still out there. You had to be...

Almost lifeless, your torso trapped in the jaws of some damn Varcolac. That was how he found you, and he swore his blood had frozen over when he saw the life start to dim in your eyes. He might have imagined how you reached out for him just as he finally got his legs to move, smashing into the beast's side with his hammer and forcing them to drop you onto the muddy forest floor.

The rage boiling in his body burst out of him in that hard swing, grief and frustration driving him to make the animal pay for your suffering. It killed you. It fucking killed you! This thing was not going to escape alive.

If you ever asked, he couldn't tell you how much he enjoyed beating the wolf back and away from you while his lycans bit and chewed off chunks of muscle and flesh, hard pressed to find any that wasn't already smattered in blood. The crack of its bones brought a disgusting fit of satisfaction in him, and every pained growl and whimper from the pathetic thing only spurred him on even more.

He raised his weapon over his head, poised for another punishing blow, until...

"Karl..."

Somehow, your soft voice cut through the emotional whirlwind. "Y/N?"

He wasted no time in getting back to you, sheating his weapon back and kneeling down, completely in disbelief. He always knew you were a fighter -- damn well knew that you wouldn't back down on life this easily.

As the lycans behind him finished the job, he picked you up as gently as he could, words of comfort and assurance uttered with every pained gasp and whimper from your lips. If you were more aware, you might have caught Karl with tears streaking down his face.

Everything passed like a blur, slow like it was creeping up on you -- and yet when you were finally conscious it felt too fast. You could've sworn a second ago that a snarling Varcolac had cornered you on the way back to Heisenberg's. You barely heard how you screamed as a reflex over the overload of dread and panic that filled you all at once. To say it was a lot was an understatement.

But then, here you were -- exactly where you wanted to be. Well, things looked a little different. Your bedside table was occupied with bottles you never kept there, along with bandages and tape you don't remember ever using.

Your gaze shifted to the slumped figure sitting next to your bed, a hand laid over yours. It took more effort than you realized to tighten your hold over his hand, but even that was enough to jolt him awake.

Karl wasn't wearing his glasses. You could've sworn his eyes were shiny when he turned to look at you, seemingly in disbelief. He had been by your side for days, changing your bandages and calling a doctor in every so often to check up on you. He hardly gave a damn that some village commoner was allowed in his factory -- he wasn't going to take a chance when it came to you. Not again. You had to stay alive, you had to wake up eventually. He was prepared to wait weeks for you, months, years, however long it took.

He just needed you back.

Things were quiet between you for a while, Karl still in shock as he helped you sit up and offered you a glass of water for your dry throat. He was the first one to speak up.

"You've been out for a few days, in case you were wondering. It's Friday today."

You remembered going out into the village on Tuesday. You stayed quiet, trying to process all this new information, especially now that you were actually in the right headspace to.

You weren't really sure what to say, if you should say anything at all. He seemed to be at a loss too, you can't even begin to imagine what he must be feeling. Anger? Relief? An overwhelming mix of both?

"I'm... glad you're okay." But at least he managed to say something.

Were you supposed to say sorry, that you weren't more careful (you probably should have been)? Tell him you're glad to see him too (you were)? You knew you wanted to say something though...

"Is this the part where you say 'I told you so'?" you finally said, voice still hoarse, an edge of sarcasm in your soft tone.

Part of you would rather deflect from the trauma you just went through -- you basically just came out of a fucking coma. You ought to take things one step at a time. Right now, you really were just glad to be with Karl again.

Speaking of Karl... he seemed to be at a loss for words. His lover just woke up from what could have been a life-threatening experience -- no, it was a life-threatening experience -- and that's the first thing you say? He started blinking in confusion, mouth hung open, and you were tempted to reach out and close it for him and make some comment about catching flies. Instead, he started...

Chuckling.

"Oh yeah, absolutely, I told you to be fucking careful!" he replied, smug as ever. There's the Karl you knew.

You shoved at his arm weakly, "No, this is the part where you're supposed to say 'All that matters is that you're back and you're safe," you retorted with a small smile, making a poor impression of his voice and accent.

He huffed, shaking his head as he rolled his eyes. There's the Y/N he knew. Tears started rolling down his cheeks, barely even noticing it as he looked over you with such fondness and joy. You were alive, and here, and he wasn't sure what god out there made that happen but goddamn, it would have made a believer out of him if he knew.

"You need to rest up, alright, sugar?" He laid a gentle hand on your forehead, pushing your hair back and out of your eyes.

You gave a small nod and puckered your lips comically -- a silent plea for a kiss. The man only rolled his eyes and gave you a peck on the lips. "You won't leave, right?"

"No. Never."

[sweettodo]

a simple competition.

⟿ Hisoka Morow x freader x Chrollo Lucilfer

Includes : threesome, toys, smut, not even a good plot but yk, consumption of alcohol

word count : 2,7k.

my last little surprise for you guys, some more threesum action .... here you go puppies. THX FOR 300 [ almost 400 rn :) ] <3 !!! your favorite men at your disposal... [y/n is aged].

fun fact, I'm eating takis rn, are these spicier than usual or am I imagining things ? i’m also watching ‘malcolm and marie’ AMAZING movie, i highly suggest it, the dynamic of the two is so detailed, such a good movie.

••

Maybe it wasn't a clever idea to drink, but once you attained that nice and warm sensation in your gut, there was certainly nothing stopping you from finishing the already half-empty bottle of pink whitney.

Laying sprawled out on the couch, staring at the ceiling as the room slowly spins around you. Content and relaxed with your position.

It wasn't your fault, Pakudona reassuring you that it wouldn't hurt to have a little fun tonight, that Chrollo wouldn't heed if you crashed here for the night, he was tipsy, manspreading on the other end of the couch, eyes puffy and glossed over, enjoying the quiet.

Music was playing thirty minutes previously, but as the night went on, one by one, the others hit the road to sleep off their intoxication, it was already past midnight.

One person had yet to leave, that was Hisoka... of course.

He wandered back into the living room, plopping down next to you and your friend on the couch, "leaving anytime soon? Y/n?"

You shook your head, "staying the night." Hisoka's arched eyebrows rise, a little smile tugging at the niche of his mouth.

"Is that so?" Chrollo sits up, staring at the kaleidoscopic man, a sarcastic undergone on his tongue.

"That's what happens when you drive here, and drink" You nod, "although I didn't quite intend on you staying the night, Morow." He hums, Hisoka pinches the corner of the thin card, waving it back and forth teasingly.

"I can't let you have our playmate all to yourself," you roll your eyes.

"It's not like that," you mutter, staring the magician in the eyes, "I couldn't leave if I wanted to."

"That is true," Chrollo interjects, "that doesn't mean you want to leave though, is it?" you shrug.

"No, I wanna stay, got an issue with that?" you ask, he shakes his head.

"Of course not- although, I suppose Hisoka would be better off on his way."

You estimated things would only get progressively worse from here, the moment Hisoka's bloodlust began to fill the air, you felt this was your cue; before you're able to leave the room, Hisoka's hand is fastened around your wrist, sitting you back down.

"Oh, you can't flee now," dread fills your face, "come on, we might as well finish the conversation."

You and Chrollo both knew what he was talking about. No matter how petty or pathetic, it appears to be that the rivalry between the two never seemed to subside, even drunk.

"Go on, since you have so much to say."

"Am I wrong for thinking my friend is a pretty girl? I seem to remind her more than you do."

"You seem to think you own her, it's pitiful honestly, " Blushing, you look down at your thighs, "do you think she's pretty, Chrollo?"

"I do. I think she knows that right?" you peek up at him, he gleams and tilts his head.

"Look at her, my, you must like us flattering you." You shake your head.

"That's because you neglect to tell her more often, does Chrollo ever call you pretty?" with Hisoka pushing Chrollo's every button, tensions were surging, both men now at the edge of their seats- literally.

"No, he doesn't," you speak, the magician letting out a deep chuckle, you felt like you were being scrutinized, the eyes burning into you felt poisonous and dour, you felt minuscule compared to them.

"I could do so much better than call you pretty, right kitten?" your heart sinks to your stomach, gulping hard. It was too hard to look at them in the eyes as you sunk further into the couch.

"Are we making you nervous?"

The inquiry continues.

"Yeah- you are." You retort, "you guys are talking about me like I'm not here."

"Then let's ask the lady herself, y/n." Looking up to meet Hisoka's gaze, "who do you think could take better care of you?"

Heart pounding out of your chest, your stomach filled with butterflies, "I- I don't know, I've never thought about it." Laughing, you look to see Chrollo, who's standing to his feet.

"I think I know a way to help you decide," smug smile peeking from his face, "unless you don't want to?"

A single nod is all they needed to know, Hisoka standing to his feet, seeing how you sat on the couch as still as a statue, "please don't be so tense, you know how good we are to you." Hisoka slowly picks up your hand.

He's steering you to your feet, "what do you have in mind, Chrollo?" the man leading you two upstairs.

"I think I have something that'll work out for all of us."

The dress you wore to this get-together now seemed like you were exposed, bare, and vulnerable, you knew what their agenda was, you didn't fancy the idea of being the center of attention.

Chrollo slowly clicking open his door, walking in, and promptly turning on the light, you're led to the side of his king-sized bed, his room was both contemporary and warm, comforting feeling; the walls a deep vermilion, the sheets plush, soft and black tones.

"We should leave it up to our little kitten to decide," the buttons on his shirt slowly coming undone, stopping at his sternum.

"What do you think, Morow?" Hisoka looks at you with low eyes.

"I'll go first."

Chrollo stalks towards you, sitting there falling apart at the seams, Chrollo's large and reaching behind your ear, thumb gently caressing your jawline, side to side, "you okay with this? Sweetheart?" you nod, the name sending jolts between your thighs.

Hisoka's rubbing your bare leg, sitting next to you on the mattress as his fingertips trail up and down, his hand stopping inside your thigh and pressing a leg open, Chrollo clasping your other knee and you lay on your back

"I'll get some time to please you, Hisoka gets the same when I'm done, yes?"

You're breathless, Hisoka grabbing you and pressing your back against him, his hands pinching the seams of your dress, "cute little dress- you should wear it more often for me." He hums, rolling it up, your thighs buckled together while lifting your back off the mattress, the dress sitting bunched up at your hips, the panties you wore sitting on your hips.

"My, who knew she would wear something so- revealing." Arms linking around your own, Hisoka keeps you completely locked in place.

"Did you wear these for me? Kitten?" Chrollo asks, shaking your head no.

Tugging at the little strong which hardly kept you covered, “I'll keep these, yeah?” you nod, the pants of Chrollo’s fingers barely ticking you, brushing against your already anxious body.

"Stay still for me, okay?"

"Okay." You breathe.

Hand leaning over past Hisoka, he's opening up the drawer beside his bed.

Your eyes widen at the sight of the little pink toy, compact in nothing bugger than four inches long, he sits on the bed in front of you, bringing the little object to your core.

He switches it on the lowest setting, the only noise in the room was the quiet buzzing of the vibrator as he barely touches your clit, the tiniest contact with the toy having your chest rise and fall, "keep these open for me, okay princess?" his fingers hook below your panties, pulling them down and placing them beside him.

"Such a pretty pussy, don't you think, Hisoka?" You're gnawing on your bottom lip from the teasing little touches with the toy, he was doing this on purpose; your legs laid open, the other man holding your arms to where you couldn't do anything if you wanted to.

"It is, I'm sure it's even prettier when it's cumming,"

Chrollo finally presses the vibrator onto your clit, he leans over your cunt, spitting, your mouth opens, the saliva hardly cooling your excited cunt.

He uses his free hand to finish unbuttoning his shirt, dropping it on the floor, he leans down leveled to your cunt, holding your leg over his broad and muscular shoulder, his tongue licking a stripe towards your occupied clit. Your body shakes, digging further into Hisoka's chest, he holds you tighter.

"Fuck, p-please!" you gasp, wanting to dig your hands into his hair, thrashing against Hisoka's arms, "let me touch-" your pleads fall on deaf ears, Chrollo’s tongue swirling into you in sinful ways, your legs twitching, the toy too much to handle.

The euphoric feeling of the overstimulation sending a pool of cream right onto Chrollo's tongue, lapping up every drop of you.

You were dizzy, Chrollo drinking up all of your essences, his hand pressed into your thigh to keep you from buckling onto him, your back grinding against the pressure of Hisoka's growing erection, his hands had grabbed the straps of your dress, one by one pulling them down and releasing your tits from the braless dress.

It's almost too good to be true- the man spending a dangerous amount of time eating your pussy like it was his very last meal, tasting everything he possibly could, the vibrator maintaining its spot in little circles around your swollen and screaming clit.

Ripping orgasm after orgasm out of your body, you're dripping sweat, he pulls off of you, your cum covering his reddish swollen lips, chin soaked. You looked a wreck, makeup streaming down your face, legs numb, his head coming to yours, he kisses your panting lips, releasing you from Hisoka.

The taste of your cum filling your mouth, his tongue licking past your bottom lip and into your mouth.

"Take this off." tearing at your dress, peeling it over your head, unzipping his pants, "you're gonna straddle me and stay still, is that okay with you, kitty?"

"O-okay, what about Hisoka?" Grabbing your hips, you straddle him. He raises you a little.

"He's gonna watch me make you cum a few more times-" hissing in the air as he assists you to slide down onto his cock, the stretch was unbearable, but you push through, trying not to slouch over in pain.

"-hurts, bad!" You sob.

"You take me so well, it'll only hurt for a second, promise."

His hand's move, one to your waist and one loosely around your throat as he holds you up to get a better grip on your already weakened body.

Keeping eye contact with Hisoka as your body is demolished by the man beneath you, eyes boring into you seductively, captivated by your mess of a face.

You felt as if you were being torn in half, crying out his name as he knew just how to fuck you; fucking your pussy just right.

Fucking you so hard you were going numb.

"Gonna cum! Gonna cum again!" you screamed, head falling back as you searched desperately for air, Chrollo rolling his hips into you as he released you, slumping to his chest, his chest stick from sweat.

"You wanna be filled with my seed, kitty?" Nodding in his shoulder.

"Please fill me- I want your cum,"

The feeling of his cum seeping down his cock and deep into your beaten-up cunt, his breath heavy against your ear.

You sit up, large arms wrapping from behind you and pulling you off of your straddle, Chrollo getting off the bed to clean himself off as Hisoka sits you on the bed, tucking your hair behind your ear gently, smiling as you look up at him, blurred eyes.

"My my, I don't think she can handle it, or can you?"

"I-I can, trust me." He smiles, pleased with your answer, his soft hands taking up your arm before leaning you back, onto your back, he was sweaty, so his shirt was clinging to his body, his hair was messily draped over his shoulders, pulling his tie loose while standing between your open legs, "let me see your wrists, princess."

He's leading you against the bed frame, linking your hands together and finishing off the knot around the post of the frame, the man getting on his knees between your legs, letting his shirt hand open as his hands work at his slacks, unbuckling the leather belt and tossing it to the side, "you look so innocent, tied up and quiet as a mouse, even after you just got fucked out," he pushes down his pants, erection throbbing from underneath his underwear.

The area between your legs throb, he was beyond ready to feel your walls tighten around him, he was ready to hear you begging for more.

He needed to one-up Chrollo.

He lifts your hips, your legs propped against his thighs while remaining restrained, his tip aiming into you accordingly before pushing into your beaten cunt.

His arm propped, flexing as he grips the headboard, drilling into your cunt with no tenderness, he spares you no pain as he ruts into you, ready to split you in half the instant he saw you spilling cum at the hands of his rival.

The size of him left you perplexed, the way he was splitting you open while bringing you to an indescribable state of heaven had you a sloppy mess, the thick cock he had with his veins filling in the little nerves you had yet to feel seconds earlier. He filled you, and he filled you well.

Hisoka fucks you until your head is blank, eyes seeing white, one of his hands gripping your hip, keeping you from laying fully on your back.

You try to cry put to him, and he notices.

He slows only slightly, rolling his hips back and forth into you so you can speak, "s-so good, it feels so good!"

Each rut of his hips sends you into oblivion, the way his hips bumped and clashed against your body left you spitting out a mantra of his name, Chrollo inches away from you, rolling your perked nipple in between his fingers, sending chills up your body.

Hisoka brings his eyes to you, "joining in, my friend?" Chrollo pulls his hand back, you almost find yourself whining.

“Did I fuck you better, y/n?” Chrollo taunts, his lips barely pressing against the life of your ear, “is Hisoka making you feel good?” Hisoka's beautiful golden eyes stalk you, waiting for your answer; stabbing right into your soul.

“Answer him, go on, kitten; did he fill you as good as I am?”

The questions were throwing you in for a loop, your stomach twisted, digging your head back deeper into the pillow of Chrollo’s bed.

“Fill me, please- daddy.” You cry, you longed to touch him, to feel his soft hair as he pummeled into you; you tugged on your wrists softly, already weak, the tied limbs going numb and tingling.

Before you know it, another orgasm is torn out of you; groaning out as you tightened and clenching around him, body once again convulsing, legs tightening around Hisoka’s waist. Each time they made you cum, the more came spilling from your cunt, it was almost unreal how much the bed was soaked, how soaked your thighs were, Hisoka’s pants being stained in the process.

This pretty little soaked pussy, sucking me in so good.” Panting, his head falls back, his dick quaver’s while his thrusts become more staggered, hand gripping tighter around your already sore hip.

His seed bathes both you and his cock, hips sputtering as he slowly slips out of your abused cunt. your head spinning, a panting mess at you blink and stare at the ceiling.

You could barely move, the men in the room throwing on clothes, hearing zippers, you lift your head.

Chrollo hands you a blanket, draping it over your body.

Sitting up, the blanket around you, you look at the two men who were fiddling around doing nothing but looming around the room.

While Hisoka buttons up his shirt, he tilts his head towards you, “tired, princess?” you nod.

A devious smirk dances on your lips, they look at you confused, “perhaps though, I might need another round, you know- to decide who was better.”

[thishintoflove]

“I Think He Knows” - A Kingsman Fanfic

TSwift Songfic Week Day 5

Pairing: Agent Whiskey x M!Reader

Warnings: 18+ Explicit (Pining, dirty talk, hand jobs, oral sex)

A/N: I feel like there’s a lack of M/M in the Pedro cinematic universe fandom, so here’s some bisexual Whiskey having a good time with a fellow male agent.

Summary: You and Agent Whiskey are paired together for an out-of-state mission. On your last night, your pining and his flirting finally come to a head.

I think he knows his hands around

A cold glass

Make me wanna know that body

Like it's mine

The mission was long but you were finally finished with it. Three weeks in Dallas were more than enough for you, and you were looking forward to getting home to your own bed and your own office in Kentucky. You were aching for the privacy it offered, after spending almost a month sharing a hotel room with your fellow agent. This time you’d been paired up with Agent Whiskey, and because of that you were glad the trip was almost over.

It’s not because Agent Whiskey- Jack - was incapable. Quite the opposite. He was extremely efficient and good at his job but he was also… extremely attractive. Which was a huge distraction.

You took pride in being a capable agent but Jack and his pretty face compromised that. You’ve never been in a situation like this before. Lusting over your coworker felt extremely unprofessional, but it was impossible to ignore him. He was an in-your-face kind of guy, always butting in with a comment or joke, always using his body as a weapon. He’d lounge around your shared hotel room in nothing but a thin towel, his wet hair draped across his forehead, and you swear he did it on purpose. The man knew how attractive he was and he obviously loved flaunting it.

He was tall and tan, with soft brown hair, a pair of beautiful round eyes that seemed to sparkle with amusement, and a smile that made your knees weak. The downside was that his smile made just about everyone weak. You were living in your own personal hell. Every single day having to watch Jack be attractive without even trying, and then watch as everyone in his vicinity tried to flirt with him. Tonight he was wearing a black leather jacket and extremely tight jeans, looking more like a movie star than an undercover agent. The man could pull off anything. It’s actually unfair.

You were out at some dive bar, celebrating the end to a successful mission before flying home tomorrow. It was Jack’s idea of course, but you’d agreed because you needed a stiff drink after these three long weeks and honestly you couldn’t say no to him.

“Another round, kid?”

You glanced up and saw him staring at you, a twinkle in his bright eyes. His hand gripped his empty whiskey glass and you eyed your own half-full drink. You couldn’t throw it back like him.

“I’m good for now,” you answered.

He nodded and slapped you on the shoulder as he stood up, “I’ll get you another one anyway. You better finish that by the time I get back.”

You sighed as you watched him walk away. His ass looked fantastic in those jeans. All the training and harsh exercise routines that Champ put the team through really worked for him. No wonder he could get any pretty thing he wanted.

Speaking of which, he seemed to have turned his affections on someone else. You groaned, your eyes never wavering from where Jack stood. He was currently making small talk with the pretty brunette bartender. He was giving her the full Whiskey treatment- gazing at her with those soft, mocha-colored puppy dog eyes and giving her a charming half-grin. Watching him flirt was simultaneously entertaining and torturous. He threw his head back, laughing at some dumb joke the bartender must have said, and you almost growled out loud as you hungrily stared at his neck.

Stupid horny bastard.

He got that boyish look that I like in a man

I am an architect, I'm drawing up the plans

It's like I'm seventeen, nobody understands

No one understands

You were getting really sick of hiding your partial hard-ons and jacking off in the cold shower, but everything the man did was hot. The deep voice and accent alone were enough to get you going on most days. God, you hadn’t felt like this since high school.

If Jack noticed you staring or caught on to the fact that you took extra long showers, he didn’t say anything. You were openly out at the agency and your sexuality wasn’t a secret. When you first joined the Statesmen, you felt you had something to prove at work, as if you had to demonstrate your masculinity by keeping up with the largest members of the team. But you’ve excelled in your role for years now and you were beyond proving yourself at this point. You were just glad that Agent Whiskey wasn’t one of the people who cared that you liked men.

In fact, he treated you just like he treated everyone-- this meant he wasn’t shy about flirting and teasing you. Sometimes it seemed like he was coming onto you, but you had to remind yourself that he was like that with everyone-- you weren’t special and there was no way he was actually interested.

Before falling asleep each night, you’d listen to Jack’s soft snores and run scenarios through your head of every possible way that you could share your feelings. You thought about all of the things you could say, and all of the ways Jack could react. It was agonizing but your analytical mind couldn’t stop. You wished you had the courage to just ask him out. The worst that could happen is he’d say ‘no’ and maybe request to never work with you again, but then at least you’d be free of him.

Wanna see what's under that attitude

Like, I want you, bless my soul

And I ain't gotta tell him

I think he knows

A loud laugh suddenly interrupted your thoughts and you looked over to the bar again. The bartender was giggling and grasping at Jack’s arm. The sight made your stomach turn, and you made a quick decision to get out of there before you had to watch them start making out over the bar.

You stepped up next to Jack and finally drew his attention away from the girl.

“Hey, hold off on my drink. I’m gonna head out,” you told him.

“What? Come on now, it’s so early!”

“Yeah. I just don’t really feel like hanging out anymore. I’ll see you back there.”

Before Jack could respond, you threw down some cash on the bar and turned away. You were already across the floor and on your way out the door when a hand on your arm stopped you.

“Hey. Are you pissed at me or something?”

“No,” you muttered, trying to ignore the shot of arousal you felt when he grabbed you, “I just don’t feel like sitting in the corner, watching you flirt with some chick.”

You tried to turn away from him, but Jack let out a quiet “ohhh” of understanding. His grip on your arm tightened.

“We’ve been on this mission for weeks now, and on our last night you finally decide to say something?” Jack laughed, turning you around so you were facing him again. He invaded your personal space, ducking his head and trailing his nose along your neck and jaw.

“What?” you asked, confused because he couldn’t possibly mean...

“You're so slow, that’s what,” Jack mumbled, his lips tracing along your neck. It felt amazing, but... was Jack- your fellow agent and known womanizer- really nuzzling your neck right now?

“I'm confused, are you really into this?” you asked again, trying to hold back a moan. Jack pulled away and looked at you with huge eyes.

“God, you’re an idiot. I've been sending you obvious signs, makin’ eyes at you and showing off what I got, and now I'm literally biting your neck, and you're still asking?” Jack said incredulously. You searched his face and saw eyes that were filled with desperation and lust.

“I just assumed…”

“I like it both ways, kid. Is that clear enough for you?”

He then took one step forward and kissed you fully on the lips. There was only a moment of shock before you melted into the kiss, pressing your bodies closer and running your hands over Jack’s shoulders and back. All of your worries disappeared then. You didn't feel the terrible anxiety that constantly filled you with dread. Your mind stopped frantically thinking about every possible worst case scenario. Everything stopped. There was only Jack.

“Oh ohhhh right. Yeah I’m an idiot,” you quietly mumbled against his lips, “Want to go back to the hotel?”

“Fuckin’ finally,” he replied with a grin.

Lyrical smile, indigo eyes, hand on my thigh

We can follow the sparks, I'll drive

So where we gonna go?

I whisper in the dark

You weren’t sure how you made it back to the hotel so quickly, but as soon as you tumbled through the door, Jack had you pinned to the bed underneath him. His hands roamed all over your torso, and he pulled the shirt over your head and tossed it aside before quickly doing the same to his own. The room was filled with your little whimpers every time Jack ground his hips against yours. You stared up at him, his lips swollen and red bitten and eyes blown with lust, and you were positive that you looked just as debauched. He looked just as beautiful hovering over you as you’d always imagined, and you wanted to feel him everywhere.

“More,” you whined, canting your hips up into Jack’s.

He groaned and trailed his hands down your chest, his fingers brushing against your nipples, causing a moan to slip from your mouth. He continued his journey down until he reached the fly of your jeans.

“Lift up,” Jack mumbled, leaning in to kiss your neck as he tried to tug your pants down. You obeyed and soon your pants and your boxers were off, leaving you completely exposed.

“Fuckin’ hell,” he moaned, his fingers barely brushing over your erection, “You’re even prettier than I thought, darlin’.”

You groaned, pushing your body closer to Jack’s. As his hand slowly learned the feel of your cock, your own hands wandered all over his body. From his strong shoulders to his muscular back, to his waist, his hips, his thick thighs. You slipped one hand into his jeans to grab his ass, finally getting the chance to touch the part of Jack’s body you’d fantasized about the most. You could feel his clothed erection rubbing against your thigh as Jack continued steadily stroking your cock.

“Jack,” you whimpered, gazing into his dark, lust-filled eyes. You were barely able to control your thoughts properly since Jack’s pace was getting quicker and way too distracting. He grinned down at you.

“This good, baby? You want it a little rougher?” he asked, a groan slipping from his lips as you squeezed his ass in response.

Jack pushed forward and kissed you harder this time, moving his hand faster along your cock. Then he kissed his way down your neck, sucking and nipping all your sensitive spots. Suddenly he bit down hard on the skin between your neck and shoulder, following it up with a long lick with his wide tongue. That show of possessiveness was enough to push you right to the edge. You cried out as pleasure tore through you, coming in ropes all over Jack’s large hand. You gasped for breath, your chest rising and falling as your head lolled against the pillows.

Jack hovered over you, continuing to kiss your neck and upper chest as you came down from your high. “I’ve been told I’m good with my hands, can I get a confirmation on that, darlin'?“ he asked with a cocky grin.

Your eyes blinked open and you smirked at him. “You’ve got the confirmation all over your hand.”

“Ooooh, so he’s mouthy all of a sudden. Guess I just had to get you in bed to see the sassy side of you, huh?” Jack tutted.

“I’ll show you mouthy,” you muttered, blushing at the stupid euphemism even as you trailed a line of kisses down Jack’s sternum and belly.

When you reached the top of his jeans, you surprised your fellow agent by flipping him over and yanking his pants down in one fluid motion. Jack growled at the switch, but when you took his cock into your mouth, he gasped and surged forward. You enjoyed the desperate moan he made as you swallowed him completely, his hips bucking into your mouth. But you wanted to take your time with this. You grasped his hip bone with one hand and held him down, before pulling off his cock and moving to lightly lick his balls. Jack was making beautiful, desperate noises and you loved the idea that this strong, confident agent was falling apart because of you. You smiled against him and swiped your tongue along the bottom of his shaft before taking him fully into your mouth again.

“Holy hell, you’re fuckin’ amazing,“ Jack groaned as you bobbed up and down on his cock, “I’m so close-”

You sucked harder and reached your other hand down to fondle his balls again as Jack thrust into your mouth. Soon he was arching forward and shouting your name. You let him come in your mouth, swallowing his seed down like it was another shot at the bar.

When you looked up at Jack from between his legs, you grinned. He had his head tilted back, one hand thrown across his mouth as he stared at the ceiling, breathing heavily. When he felt your eyes on him, he looked down at you with a satisfied smile.

“Damn, that was…”

“Amazing,” you cut him off, “Even better than I imagined.”

“So you imagined it, huh?”

Unable to control the urge any longer, you leaned forward and pulled Jack into a sweet, affectionate kiss. You ran your fingers through his soft hair and you could feel him grinning the whole time. When you finally pulled back, he was still smiling but he also looked a bit confused.

“Why haven’t we done this sooner?” he asked.

“I was convinced you were straight. I’ve been a fucking mess trying to decide if I should say something or not,” you replied.

Jack hummed and reached for you, but you chuckled and pulled away.

“You need a shower,” you said, “Then we can talk some more.”

“Only if you join me, sugar...”

I want you, bless my soul

I ain't gotta tell him

I think he knows

[lucyintheskywithxanax]

Truce

Requested by @minaslittleone : Wilhemina + “I know you've got a little life in you left, I know you've got a lot of strength left” from This Woman’s Work.

E., I love this exchange of dark headcanons we don’t want to write 😆😭 I decided to write this one from reader’s pov for protection xx

Word count: 4 000

In retrospect, surely you should have realized right from the start that something was very wrong. But that’s not how you processed bad things. You denied them, refused to acknowledge their existence, until they had no other choice but to slap you right across your face. Sometimes it would take days. Sometimes it was much quicker.

But deep down, you had known something was off the moment you had closed the front door behind you. It was a Friday, 6pm or so, and you had just come back from a week-long work trip across the country. You were exhausted, mentally and physically, and yet the sweet prospect of seeing Wilhemina again made your heart sing and feel like you could very well hike a mountain. But there had been no Wilhemina coming to meet you as she always, always would, fighting a smile, trying to look indifferent but melting into your arms and peppering your face with kisses. No Wilhemina to take off your coat and ask you how your trip had been and to slip a mug of your favorite tea in your hands.

Instead, the house had been awfully quiet. Wilhemina’s shoes lay on the floor in their usual place. You called out her name, trying not to sound too worried. You crossed the living room in a hurry, so you didn’t notice the unwashed dishes in the sink, or the disarranged pillows on the couch. Or maybe you did, but refused to acknowledge them. It was only later, when the sun was setting and you scrubbed the dishes yourself, and fluffed the pillows before rearranging them the way Wilhemina liked them to be, that the implication of them, the reality they told of, hit you in the face. You shoved it where it couldn’t speak.

Wilhemina was lying in bed with her eyes closed, and when you asked her if she was feeling alright, she only answered with a curt “I’m tired.” You sat worriedly by her side, gently stroking her arm. You couldn’t remember the last time she had said those words. You couldn’t remember the last time she had looked so defeated. Dread had tightened your chest. But you had denied it all, as you always did, and let it pass. You had pressed a gentle kiss on Wilhemina’s temple, and asked her if she wanted to eat something – a shake of her head -, then told her you would make something for yourself and take a shower very quickly before you joined her in bed.

And you had been so very tired yourself that it hadn’t taken long at all to fall asleep. You had put your arms around Wilhemina and held her close and decided that in the morning everything would be alright.

Except now, here you were, sitting on your own at the kitchen table, unable to swallow your breakfast as you kept worriedly glancing at the clock whose hands neared 10am. And still Wilhemina wasn’t up.

Even on the weekends, she would rarely linger in bed past 9am, as she hated feeling like she was wasting a day. It would take much coaxing to have her back in your arms when you felt like being lazy on a Sunday morning.  

You sat still, staring at your toasts that were cold now. You didn’t feel like eating. Worry was lodged deep in your stomach and made you feel nauseous. But still you told yourself, that maybe Wilhemina hadn’t slept much during the past week, had stayed up late to work with no one to call her to bed, and was in great need of rest. Surely she would join you soon, grumpy because you had let her sleep in, and you would smile at her and kiss her lips and she would hold you as you told her all about your trip.

The clock ticked so loud in the silence, mocking you. It sounded like it was laughing.

At 10:30am the worry got the best of you. You stood up and hurried to the bedroom. You knocked on the door and waited for two seconds before you opened it.

The room was still dark, shutters still closed against the light. You kept the door open to let some light from the corridor in. It showed Wilhemina’s shape, still in bed, her back to you, the comforter pulled up to her waist.

For a second you considered calling her name to determine whether she was still asleep. But the dread in your stomach tugged you onward before you had time to take a decision.

Carefully you settled on the narrow space between the edge of the bed and Wilhemina’s body. You brushed her hair back from her cheek so you could take a look at her face.

“Hey baby,” you whispered. You forced yourself to smile, knowing she would hear it in your voice.

Wilhemina’s eyes had been half-opened, staring vacantly at the darkness. Upon hearing your voice, they briefly moved in your direction, as if to acknowledge your presence.

You rested your hand on her shoulder, thumb gently stroking her skin.

“Are you feeling sick?” you tried.

Wilhemina remained silent.

“Do you want me to bring you something?” you tried again. “A cup of tea? Are you hungry?”

More silence. Worriedly you bent over her, hand now stroking her hair. It was uncharacteristically greasy, you noticed, and your fingers when you slipped them through it caught in several tight knots.

You swallowed, hoping it would somehow prevent the dread from spreading through you. Part of you was still cowardly trying to turn a blind eye on the situation, trying to pretend you had not already connected all the dots.

You pressed another kiss on Wilhemina’s temple. “I’m bringing you tea,” you announced.

You pretended not to hurry out of the room. You needed out for a moment, away from the darkness that seemed to be clinging to your skin, from the stale air of the bedroom, from Wilhemina’s vacant eyes and hunched frame. Your brain went numb. It was either that, or yielding to panic.

On auto-pilot you made the tea, Wilhemina’s favorite, a whole kettle of it. You put the kettle down on a tray with a cup and some biscuits, knowing perfectly well she wouldn’t touch them. Just to pretend.

When you came back to yourself, you found you were staring down at the kettle, hands on either side of the tray. You closed your eyes for a second and forced yourself to take a few deep breaths.

But Wilhemina was always so strong, you thought. Always pushing on, always fighting her on-going battle against her body and the norms and never showing even the tiniest sign of defeat to the outside world. In all the months of dating her, you had gained the sense that somehow she was holding the world together as a commander holds an army together. If she failed, if she as much as slackened her grip, the whole world would collapse, and you with it. You couldn’t imagine living in a world where Wilhemina wasn’t this strong, indestructible force protecting you and strengthening you.

And yet, you thought, as you made your way back to the bedroom, carefully holding the tray, she was bound to fail one day or the other. She was bound to grow weary. And it would be your job to help her back up onto her feet.

You weren’t sure you knew how. And yet you must, you scolded yourself, as you entered the bedroom. You couldn’t run away when Wilhemina needed you.

You set the tray on the bedside table and sat down on the bed again. “Sweetheart,” you tried, “will you sit up for me?”

Wilhemina had closed her eyes upon hearing the new determination in your voice, to try and block you. She didn’t acknowledge your presence, didn’t answer you.

You stared down at her shadowed frame, mind racing as you tried to think of what to do. Tears pooled in your eyes at the sight of her like this, looking so weak and defeated, looking so wrong – you shook your head to chase the thought.

You thought of what would usually help her when she wasn’t feeling good. Remembered all the hesitant touches, all the scooting closer, fingertips brushing your arm, eyes silently pleading to be held.

You stood up and stripped to your underwear so Wilhemina would feel your skin, then nestled in the narrow space available between her body and the edge of the bed.

You didn’t speak. Merely wrapped your arms around her waist and pressed yourself against her, dropping a kiss on the nape of her neck. She didn’t stiffen, or push you away – in fact, she didn’t react in the slightest, and you wondered if she was aware of your presence at all.

The familiarity of her quieted some of the racing thoughts in your mind. Heat quickly built up between your bodies, wrapping you up in a cocoon, and you found yourself wishing that you could build your own world in it, only exist in it, with Wilhemina pressed against you and you pressed against her and nothing else allowed in. To be the architect of your own world and have a say on even the tiniest speck of dust that wafted through it. You wished it could be that easy.

Gently you planted kisses on Wilhemina’s shoulder and neck, your thumb stroking her wrist to ground her in case she needed it. You closed your eyes and focused on her breathing, slow and deep. One breath in, one breath out.

In, out.

You must have dozed off, for when you opened your eyes again, the light filtering through the gaps in the shutters had the brightness of noon. You were still in the exact same position, spooning Wilhemina, but your arm that was trapped between her waist and the mattress had gone completely numb.

With a groan at the unpleasant sensation you pulled away and withdrew your arm. Wilhemina immediately stiffened. You pressed a kiss on her temple to let her know you weren’t going anywhere, and sat up, rolling your shoulder and arm to improve your blood circulation. Your other hand gently stroked Wilhemina’s hair as a reminder that you were still here, still with her. Not running away.

Slowly you slid your fingers through her hair, working through the knots and grazing your nails over her scalp. You had done this before, hundreds of time, had whispered into her ear how beautiful her hair was and how you would never get enough of stroking it and brushing it and twirling strands of it around your fingers. Wilhemina had rolled her eyes, but a chuckle had escaped her, warm and affectionate. She had buried her face in your neck, as she did every time you were cuddling and she didn’t quite know how to handle your compliments. And certainly you had hummed and smiled knowingly, holding her head to you, fingers still threading through the red.

You looked down at her and gently scratched above her ear.

“Will you drink some tea for me?” you whispered. “It’s probably cold now, but you like it cold too.”

Silence. Your chest tightening.

“When was the last time you had water?” you heard yourself say. “Did you drink yesterday before you went to bed?”

Silence. More silence.

Fear rose in you again, hot and wrapping around your heart to squeeze, making your ears buzz, your vision swim. You shifted on the bed just so you could do something, skimmed your palm down Wilhemina’s cheek.

“Sweetheart please – please say something. Wilhemina you’re scaring me. Please, just –”

You didn’t finish, because your voice was quivering and tears were threatening to spill, and you had promised yourself you would be strong for her. Not this pathetic, helpless little girl. So you closed your eyes, pushed your palm against your forehead as you tried to regain control over the fear that threatened to overthrow you. You didn’t know what to do anymore. Call for help? Pace the room like a madwoman? Shake Wilhemina until she finally came back and snapped at you?

You didn’t know. Panicking seemed like the best option right now.

Instead, you ran your fingers through Wilhemina’s hair and forced your voice back under control. “What’s wrong?” you whispered, as tenderly as you could. “Please talk to me. I love you.”

For a while she kept on being silent, and your heart broke and sunk, and panic roared and jumped, but then - blessedly, blissfully - her voice rose, raspy and shaky from disuse.

“I’m so tired,” was what she said.

You bent over her, sweet relief rushing over you now that she was finally willing to communicate. Your hand moved to her forehead. “Are you feeling sick?”

She shook her head. She opened her eyes and again stared at the darkness in front of her.

“Sweetheart,” you pushed on, “maybe if you tried to eat or drink something –”

“What’s the point?” Wilhemina cut you off – her voice wasn’t angry, but instead completely devoid of emotion, as if she were too exhausted to feel. “If I drink your tea now and go to sleep tonight and get up tomorrow morning there’ll only be more pain. And pain again the day after. I’m so tired.”

You allowed yourself a minute to process her words. To embrace their full implication. It felt like a kick in your stomach, and yet it also made you feel calmer. For now that you had received confirmation of what was wrong, now that you knew the face of the enemy you had to defeat, you could think of an efficient plan and pick the appropriate weapons.

You pressed a tender kiss on Wilhemina’s cheek, but it only seemed to revive her anger.

“People like you have it so easy,” she said, her voice bitter now, and quivering. “All you do is wake up and begin your day and cry over your stupid little problems while being too dumb to realize how insignificant they really are. If you had to face a challenge more arduous than a lunch break that’s too short your whole fucking world would collapse.”

She paused to take a shaky breath. You waited for her to go on, blinking back tears but knowing you had to let her speak, to let her let it out no matter if it hurt.

But Wilhemina didn’t go on. The fight flowed out of her as quickly as it had flowed in. Her body sank back into the mattress, limp and drained, eyes closing as if keeping them open was too much of an effort.

And again, your heart sank. Automatically you wrapped one arm around her shoulders to press her close against you, as if somehow that would rescue her, as if she was drowning and all you had to do to save her was pull her back to the surface.

Images flashed in your mind. Wilhemina, carefully sitting up in bed every morning, ritually assessing the day’s degree of pain. You, trying not to make it too obvious that you would shorten your walks every time you noticed a change in Wilhemina’s gait. Strangers and friends, their eyes falling on her cane, then quickly shifting to the floor.

There were days you weren’t very successful in hiding the worry and sadness in your eyes or voice when Wilhemina’s breathing became labored. There were days she wasn’t very successful in hiding the fact that the most common of things – a stranger’s dress, a stranger swiftly standing up from their chair, sometimes nothing at all – would turn her attention back to the curve of her spine. And how she would hate herself.

You couldn’t even begin to imagine how draining her constant fighting must be, how lonely she must feel, carrying a burden most people never even had to think about. There had been times before when the fight had gone out of her, when her eyes had veiled over and her body had slumped and she had refused to speak or move, but those times had always been short. In the morning she had gotten up as usual and made ready to face a new day. And you had found that the best way you could help her in those moments was simply to accept them, to quietly support her and hold her as you waited for her to find her strength again.

But today – today was different. Today you feared she didn’t think it was worth finding it at all.

“Sweetheart,” you whispered, “there are so many things worth you keep fighting for.”

Wilhemina let out a low growl of annoyance. “If you say the sunset I’ll hit you.”

You shook your head, gently rubbing your thumb around a freckle on her arm. “I won’t. But it’s true. My darling, it’s true.”

“I don’t care,” Wilhemina said.

You kept on stroking her arm, encouraged and enlivened when she leaned into your touch rather than pulled away.

“And besides”, you went on, “I want to love you. And I need you,” you added, with a sad laugh. “Is that very selfish of me?”

“I don’t know,” Wilhemina sobbed.

You cooed and pressed another kiss on her temple. Wilhemina curled in on herself, hiding her face in her hands as she cried. You closed your eyes, pushing your forehead against hers, heart breaking for her but also so very relieved that she was finally showing emotion instead of her earlier numbness.

“I don’t want to keep fighting,” Wilhemina choked. “I don’t see the point anymore.”

“Ok,” you breathed, voice a little strangled by fear. You lay down so you could hold her closer, pretending not to notice how your hands were shaking and your heart beating so fast now.

And as you slowly rocked her and shushed her, you stopped trying to find the right words that would lift her up, for you were no longer convinced those existed. Instead, you let her sink.  

“It’s alright, sweetheart,” you whispered. “You can take a break. I won’t leave you.”

When Wilhemina had calmed down, you got up and opened the shutters and the window to let the sunlight, fresh air and birdsongs in. Then you hurried back to bed and held Wilhemina in your arms.

She slept through most of the day. In the evening you managed to convince her to take a shower with you. You washed her hair, lathered her skin.

The next day was spent in bed, too. Wilhemina slept. You read a book and read to her when she woke up. You highlighted the passages you found beautiful and asked Wilhemina which were her favorites. You highlighted those, too. She agreed to eat something, for you, and you held her to you when she suddenly broke down halfway through finishing her plate.

On Monday you called your respective bosses to let them know Wilhemina and you were taking the whole week off. Wilhemina still wouldn’t get out of bed, so you read some more to her, one hand holding the book and the other holding her. When you were both bored of reading, you played some of Wilhemina’s favorite records. She lay listening to the music with her eyes closed and her arm draped over your waist. In the evening you ordered food and Wilhemina and you ate it in bed while watching a movie.

On Tuesday and Wednesday, she barely spoke. She lay with a vacant look in her eyes that would only fracture when she sobbed and wailed in your arms. She refused to take her painkillers. At one point you hid in the bathroom and bit your fist to hold back your screams.

On Thursday, Wilhemina got out of bed and together you walked to the nearest park to sit on a bench in the sun and people-watch. On Friday night you woke up panting and with your mind haunted by images of Wilhemina lying lifeless on a tile floor. She gathered you in her arms and rocked you as you clang to her and sobbed and begged her never to leave you.

The week after that was spent mostly in bed, too, but on Wednesday Wilhemina changed and washed the sheets. You hung them outside to dry in the sun.

Your bosses complained. You decided you didn’t care and hung up on them.

One afternoon, for no reasons it seemed, Wilhemina suddenly turned cold and mean to you, and it took you a few hours to realize she was terrified and angry that she had let you see her in such a vulnerable state. You said it was okay. She said she wasn’t sure you were worth it. Her words hurt you more than you would have liked to admit.

You grew silent after that. You did the laundry and vacuumed the house to keep yourself busy and drown out your thoughts. Part of you wanted to turn on your heel and slam the door behind you. To leave, to run away if Wilhemina thought so little of you. Just as you were thinking that surely it was the right thing to do, Wilhemina called your name. She made you sit down on the bed next to her, held your hand, and apologized. She explained she was terrified. You nodded, blinking back tears, and gave her hand a squeeze.

The day after that was spent in bed, too, but a new, timid feeling of happiness settled on the sheet. You planted kisses on each other’s skin, exchanged renewed confessions of love and devotion and made love for the first time since you had come back from your trip. You held her tight as she shook against you, and she cooed as you choked on her tongue, clenching around her fingers and forgetting for a moment everything that wasn’t sweet and warm and love. You dozed off, and when you opened your eyes again, Wilhemina’s were smiling.

On Thursday she announced she was going back to work. You grinned at her, kissed her senseless, and managed to convince her to take it slow and wait till the next Monday. She protested at first, said she couldn’t even imagine how Kineros hadn’t yet collapsed without her, but you raised a cheeky eyebrow and said you rather loved having her all to yourself. She rolled her eyes at that, but was betrayed by the faint blush that dusted her cheeks.

That night you found her sitting in the garden gazing at the stars with a sad, overwhelmed look in her eyes. You draped a blanket over her shoulders, snuggled up to her and nudged her shoulder with your nose.

“Are you okay?” you breathed, looking up at her profile.

Still, she gazed at the stars. “I don’t know,” she breathed back.

You hummed and nestled your head in the crook of her neck.

“I never said thank you,” Wilhemina whispered after a few moments.

You hummed again.

“So, thank you,” she said.

“Anytime,” you whispered, reaching for her hand.

“Take it slow on Monday, okay?” you said after a moment.

Wilhemina made a disapproving noise, but nodded.

“And call me,” you went on. “If you feel overwhelmed.”

Another nod. She laced her fingers with yours and lifted your hand to press lingering kisses on your knuckles in an attempt to distract you, as well as herself, from the tears pooling in her eyes.

“One day at a time,” you breathed. “It’s really all we can do.” 

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[mandoalorian]

Borrowed Time [Din Djarin x F!Reader] SMUT

ੈ♡˳‧₊*: • Chapter 8: The Truth ✩࿐ ˚.✧

Summary: You are the princess of Mandalore, held hostage on your own planet by Moff Gideon and his army of Imperial troopers. Left with no choice, you send out a distress signal; a plea for protection— and who comes? None other than Din Djarin, a foundling of The Death Watch. He, by creed, is your sworn enemy. And where you have asked for his protection, he has been told by his mentor that he must marry you and gain the ability to restore Mandalore to its former glory.

Word Count: 2200>

Warnings: more angst and feelings! 18+ SMUT; unprotected p in v (wrap it before you tap it), f receiving oral, fingering… very soft sex andddd a praise kink because it’s Din’s first time giving oral :’)

AN: Please reblog to spread this around! It’s not showing up in tags! i think i’m still semi-shadow banned:(

Series Masterlist

Din didn’t say anything for a long time. He didn’t understand. Not the Manda’lor? How could that be possible? If you weren’t the Manda’lor, then... who were you? As if you were reading his thoughts, you closed your eyes and turned around so you were facing the brick wall behind you, and tried your very best to explain the truth. You had to at least make an attempt. You ignored the choked nervous knot in your throat. You couldn’t bear to look at him.

How could you ever even begin to explain this to him. You’d never spoken about what happened back on Mandalore to anyone. You’d kept it to yourself all this time. It was so painful. But you had to try.

“My mother was Duchess Satine Kryze, and I am, by technicality, the Princess of Mandalore. I always will be. When my mother died, fifteen years ago, I became heir to the throne. I became the Manda’lor, and... everything was fine. I had everything under control, and, dare I say, I was a good leader. Until one night, there was a planned attack by the Imperials on my city and they slaughtered everyone. They raided homes and killed children…” a single tear slipped down your cheek. “Moff Gideon came to see me. He wanted… the darksaber. So he had his troopers raid the palace and they found it. And once he wielded it, he became the rightful ruler of Mandalore. And, I still don’t have it back… I’ve-- I’ve never felt so helpless. And responsible for the murder of my people.”

You were crushed. You thought by admitting all of this, it would take the giant burden you’d been holding this entire time off your shoulders, but it didn’t. It only made you dread all the built up pain and anguish you had in your heart… for letting this happen and for lying to Din. You really had failed everyone around you, but most importantly, you’d failed yourself.

Bringing your hand to your wedding ring, you twiddled it around your finger and took a shaky exhale. “Din, I understand if you want nothing to do with me anymore. I can leave, and you’ll never see me again. I promise you that much. But I will get the darksaber back and I will be the rightful ruler of Mandalore. These were my people he killed. He stole it from me. And I won’t let the Imperial’s take anymore than they already have. Not without a fight.”

Compiling all the remaining bravery left in you, you turned back around to face Din and opened your eyes.

And your heart stopped.

His eyes were big and brown and sad. He had short, shaggy brown hair and a light stubble which grazed his jaw. His pink lips were parted slightly as he looked at you with his own eyes. No visor modifying his vision of you. This was raw, and completely him. He’d taken off his helmet.

You tried to ask him why, but no words came out.

“So that’s why the Imperials were chasing after you?” His jaw ticked but Maker, his voice without the helmet was as soft as silk. Rich and velvety.

He was handsome too. More handsome than you could’ve ever even imagined. In a rugged way, not in your typical Prince of Mandalore way. But you liked it a lot.

“Yes,” you swallowed thickly. “Moff Gideon imprisoned me in the palace and he never wanted me to leave. He made me promise to never tell anyone that he had the darksaber, because no doubt, any Mandalorian who found out the truth would venture after him to try and reclaim it for themselves. I was forced to live this lie. But I had to do something. That’s when I sent out the distress signal to coverts around the galaxy. That’s when you came for me, and helped me escape.”

Din tried his hardest to process your words. It… made sense. His gaze fell from your face and he looked down at the ground. He looked so sad and your heart ached. If there was a way you could fix this, you were pretty sure you’d do anything. In that very moment, you didn’t even care about the Mandalorian throne or the darksaber. You just cared about Din.

“Din, I’m so sorry.” you began, preparing to fully beg for his forgiveness, but before you could say anymore, his lips came crashing into yours.

He didn’t have anything to say to you, really. He was just so enamoured by you, that he didn’t care. You could lie to him a million times over and he’d forgive you, because you were just too perfect. You were, without a doubt, the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen. And he loved you.

He should be mad, he knew that much. But he couldn’t bring himself to hate you when all he could think about was just how beautiful your lips were. The entire time you were talking, he was fighting the urge to kiss you. Until finally, he just couldn’t resist anymore.

His mouth was soft and fit perfectly against yours. Your eyes snapped shut and a surprised moan fell from your lips as he took you in his arms and held you. You loved the way it felt… his hands on your body and caressing your skin. Was this… the first time he’d kissed? He was so passionate yet gentle, and Maker, you didn’t want it to end. He was absolutely gorgeous, and such an amazing kisser. When you thought he was going to break away, you raised your hands to his face and cupped his cheeks, swiping your tongue over his lower lip and signalling for him to continue the kiss. He did so, and you opened your mouth, granting him deeper access.

A minute or so later, when the both of you were practically gasping for breath, he pulled off you and rested his forehead against yours. If he was unsure about his feelings before, he knew for certain now.

“We’ll have to leave at dawn,” Din said eventually, huffing and looking into your eyes. His hands were still planted firmly on your hips and he nudged his nose against yours. “There’ll be less Imps around, the earlier we leave.”

You were baffled. “I don’t… I don’t understand.”

“We’re getting the darksaber back,” he confirmed. “You’re getting the darksaber back. You are the rightful ruler of Mandalore.”

You couldn’t believe it. He still wanted to help you, even after admitting to him that you’d been lying. He no longer had a duty to protect you, and yet he was doing this not because he had to, but because he wanted to.

“Are you sure?” you gasped, completely exasperated. “Are you sure you still want to help me?”

Din nodded his head wordlessly before kissing you again. “We should rest before our escape tomorrow,” Din breathed. “I have a room here.”

“Take me.” you begged, curling your body into his.

Din’s room at the covert was no different to the many other rooms that were habited by other Mandalorians. It was a small boxy room with a bed in the corner. At least it was a real bed though, and not Din’s poor excuse for a bed back on the Crest. He closed the door behind him and turned on the light, although it wasn’t bright whatsoever. It barely illuminated the room in this dull, amber colour, but it was just enough to cast your shadows on the wall.

You gulped, not tearing your eyes from him once. “I think you’re very handsome,” you blurted out, smiling when you noticed a rosy blush cross Din’s cheeks. “And I think it’s a real shame that you have to hide your face. I just know that those brown eyes could charm you out of trouble.”

Din chuckled nervously. “I think you’re very pretty too,” he said. “But you probably hear that a lot.”

You shook your head, the smile never leaving your lips once. “No.”

When Din kissed you, it felt like heaven. As the moment became more and more heated, both of you ended up undressing, and discarding your clothing and his armour into a pile on the floor.

Din carefully laid you down on his bed and hovered over you, planting kisses down your neck, along your collarbones and down your chest. He brought his hand over to your breasts and began with giving them a few experimental squeezes. He brushed his thumb over your hardening nipple and pinched it, earning a moan of pleasure from you.

Not taking his lips from yours, he dropped his hand down your body and to the hem of your panties, dipping his finger under the waistband and feeling just how wet you’d already become. He chuckled to himself, his thick and deft index finger tracing quick and tight circles across your clit. You arched your back into him, a foggy haze crossing your vision as he worked you into a complete state of euphoria.

You chanted his name like it was a prayer, caressing his biceps and holding onto him. After he drew out your first orgasm, he tapped on your thigh. You lifted up your ass so he could pull down your panties and take them off completely. You were an absolute sight to behold, there was no denying that. Your folds were slick with your arousal and Din done everything he could to contain himself. Licking his lips, he knelt down between your legs and began to lap his tongue around your bundle of nerves, even sucking occasionally on your sweet spot.

“Does-- does that feel good?” Din asked, briefly pausing just before you were about to cum again. Your legs were shaking with pleasure and Din just wanted to make sure you were alright. “I’m-- I’ve never done this before.” he confessed.

“Oral?” you asked breathlessly, rolling your head into the pillow.

“Mhm,” he confirmed, nibbling and pressing lovebites into the soft flesh of your thighs. “Never took off my helmet.”

You moaned something incoherent when the curve of his nose rubbed against your clit and you felt the warmth of his breath fan over your core.

“It’s good Din, so good,” you sighed longingly. “You’re doing so good. Please don’t stop.”

So Din kept at it until eventually you were a heaving, quivering mess, and he drove out your second orgasm. When he pulled away from you, a trail of his saliva pulled between your wet cunt and his lips, but he immediately licked himself clean and leaned over your body so he could kiss you again. The way you could taste yourself on his mouth felt so erotic.

You pulled his hard and leaking cock from the confines of his underwear and began to pump at his length. He was hot and heavy, and somehow, he was even better than you had imagined. Even as you stroked him, you yearned for him, and you could feel your cunt clench around nothing as you wished for him to fuck you already.

Din loved how you were a needy, squirming mess beneath him. He positioned himself at your entrance and slowly pushed his engorged tip inside of you, taking a few moments to allow you to adjust to his length. The wet noises as he thrusted into you were lewd and obscenely loud, and if you were with anyone else you might’ve felt embarrassed -- but as Din built up his rhythm and held on to your hips, you couldn’t even think straight enough to feel embarrassed.

“Din,” you cried out, letting your fingers curl in his brown locks of hair. “Oh Din.”

His own hips began to stutter and with a loud gasp, you felt his cock convulse inside of you and a spurt of his creamy hot seed rope your walls.

Din let himself soften inside of you as he caught his breath, eventually rolling off you and laying by your side. He wrapped his arms around you and spooned you, whispering sweet nothings into your ear until eventually, you fell asleep in his arms.

“You will reclaim Mandalore,” he whispered, pressing a chaste kiss to your forehead. “I promise.”

_________________________________________

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