#but it could still be handled gracefully i think so fingers crossed

[genderqueerpond]

if it is a time loop thing.... if it is a TIME LOOP it puts the whole. "I think I'm really really me" line in a completely new and absolutely delightful context.

Theory not my own, I saw it in a youtube comment.

But let's just imagine that. Let's entertain it briefly.

Fourteen lives out their life with Donna's family, and then whatever they do after that. Regenerates eventually, most likely into the Curator. Lives out that life until it wears out.

And then regenerates, but, wait.... *poof*. He finds himself somewhere else entirely, finds himself on the other side of a now distant memory.

Oh! I'm finally me! "I think I'm really, really me!"

[jyuansgf]

nsfw content ahead. minors dni. 

— friends with benefits / blade x f!reader. cw: 18+ content, angst, catching feelings.. lol, modern au, college setting (?).

synopsis: friends with benefits with blade, but is it really benefiting the both of you? are you both genuinely benefiting from the setup you both have, or could it be causing unforeseen complications? can you keep your feelings at bay, especially when the physical intimacy is so compelling that everything else seems to fade away?

NOTES : don’t fall in love with your fwb !! HAHA made this since a lot of people are thirsting over him in my inbox (you guys are heard) also, sorry for the slow/late updates! might make a part two (continuation) if some people demand for it ٩(ˊᗜˋ*)و ♡ meanwhile, i just wanna have a situationship with yingxing.. 

despite being in the same circle of friends you met through college, knowing him was no different than meeting anyone else (or at least you think) from hopping on clubs to another one with your friends was how you met each other. however, your relationship took an unexpected turn. if it wasn’t for your friend who kindly asked blade to take you home after you had too much to drink, things might have been different.

you can’t even comprehend how things escalated to this point. your friend would even frequently ask why you’re constantly not present during their night clubs. however, it would always end up with you responding to their messages while you’re completely preoccupied by him, as he fucks you dumb on your apartment. yet, you would always find yourself waking up to a cold bed, right.. you two only agreed to this. the thing is you both benefitted physically but not mentally. you both know this isn’t perfect but it is what you both agreed on, and he’s been fine with it, at least on the surface. 

truth to be told, you can’t even remember the last time you actually had a genuine conversation with each other, without it devolving into a heated, passionate fuck in whichever room he’s dragged you into, or even in your own flat – not like you want him to know, no.. you don’t want to break this thing you have with him yet, at least not now. 

in fact, you would even ask yourself if you can still handle this situation with him – whether it's during friends’ gatherings or just in general, it’s as if you barely know each other, like you're just a fleeting presence in his life. but behind closed doors, it’s as though the two of you can’t get enough of each other – fucking until midnight, until you plead for him to touch you in a way that no one else has. until you forget the unresolved feelings you have for him.

— “you sure have a lot going on in your mind even when i’m this deep inside you,” his laughter was low and throaty, filling the quiet room as he pressed himself deeper into you. the sensation of his breath cascading across the sensitive skin of your neck sent shivers down your spine. his rough stubble grazed against your tender flesh, creating a light, teasing contrast – and a fresh hickey, a silent testament of the night's fervor, adorned your neck as a token.

right, you were probably too absorbed in your thoughts. it wasn’t like you were always this way, but you often found yourself deep in thought whenever you two fuck lately.

“what, since when did you become a psychic?” you queried, a gentle chuckle seeping from your lips. your fingers gracefully danced through his hair, twirling and playing with the strands as you gazed at him. a playful glint sparkled in your eyes as a thought crossed your mind. “perhaps, the reason i can still manage coherent thoughts is because you haven’t been fucking me enough, blade." you teased, the hint of a challenge lingering in your words – but you intended to strike at a nerve, and you guaranteed it with the way he suddenly tightened his grip on your hips. the most satisfying part to you. as if you can count on your fingers with how many times he fucked you dumb enough to even think straight.

“is that so? well, i can’t have you thinking i’m not trying hard enough, can i?” his deep laughter echoed throughout the room in response to your playful banter, a sound you’d grown accustomed to — a smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth, he liked it when you’re being like this.. when you’re being cheeky, maybe too confident enough to think that he can’t fuck you until you’re a mess. “well then, i suppose we just have to rectify that,” his voice held a teasing edge, as he shifted his position, his cock slowly mushing the walls of your pussy, making you whine. his hands trailing up your sides — causing a shiver to ripple across your skin. his eyes, filled with lust, locked onto yours.

“do you want me to force it out of your system or should i just take you out of your senses?” his voice dripping to a low growl that sent a thrill through your core, your eyes slowly watching the way he moves — his smirk widened at your sharp intake of breath with the way his hands began to roam over your body, generating sparks wherever they touched.

it was moments like these, when the world outside between you seemed to fade away, that you found yourself inexplicably drawn to him, despite the complicated thing you both have. 

“…i’m open to either option,” you muttered softly, pausing momentarily to consider the weight of your words — a playful grin displayed across your face, reflecting your proposition, as you continued, “but i think, i’d prefer to have both if possible.” a teasing giggle bubbled up from your chest, a sweet melody that filled the tension between you two. almost unconsciously, your hands found their way to his neck, fingers gently tracing his neck, adding an intimate touch to your playful jest — filled with anticipation. 

blade could only reply with a chuckle, but you knew you were in for it. soon enough — he’ll have you fucked dumb on the mattress, until you’re a crying mess on his cock, until you two forget about the topic on hand. you don’t even plan on telling him, not this time. but at least you get what you want.

[albakore]

Away From Home

Characters: Zhongli, Diluc, Kaeya, Childe, Thoma/Tohma (fem!reader) (fic)

Synopsis: (office!au) Even your boss Zhongli has moments where self control goes out the window to make way for carnal desires.

Warnings: not sfw (18+) reverse harem, (an orgie?), semi public sex again, creampie, oral (giving), petnames (angel, princess, gem), squirting, umm? did i miss anything?, not proofread because im lazy if you catch any errors feel free to shoot me an ask,

A/N: This is a part two to Office Adventures but t's not necessary that you read it before this. I don't know if people were expecting a direct continuation of the last one but I took some creative liberty because I felt like that would be boring and instead created a whole new scenario, I hope you all enjoy it just the same!

⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⊰⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅∙∘☽༓☾∘•⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅ ⊰ ⋅•⋅

The sexual tension in the office since that (ahem) eventful meeting had been nothing short of palpable, as Lisa had been ever so kind to point out. Even Jean and Eula were starting to grow frustrated with the way Childe and Kaeya made it painstakingly obvious their lust for you, and as you explained to Jean apologetically, they just wouldn't seem to take your request to tone it down seriously. Though you couldn't deny that even you often found your mind wandering as you sat alone in your office, frequently coming to remember the way you wobbled out of the meeting room that day, cunt quivering and leaking cum.

Luck seemed to be on Jean's side however, because this week you found yourself away from the office on an important regional business conference accompanied by none other than the men themselves, leaving her alone in charge of the office for a few days. The adventure of being in a new place was always exciting; there was light in your eyes as your plane touched down just outside the city, the skyline stood shimmering off in the distance. Though, as Diluc so gracefully reminded you, this was not a vacation but a business trip and most of your time would be consumed by meetings and other work-related affairs.

"(Name)!" You heard someone call from behind you. You were walking back to the hotel after another boring day of drifting in and out of meetings with people you hardly knew and topics you hardly cared about.

"Hm?" Your head turned to see three familiar figures waving at you as they approached.

"Care to join us for dinner? It'll be our treat." Childe asked once they had caught up to you, falling into step beside you.

"Where are you guys going?" You asked. You silently took in the appearance of the boys beside you. You hadn't gotten a chance to see them all day since you greeted them at the complimentary hotel breakfast bar this morning, and you had to admit they cleaned up nicely. You admired the three's formal dress, remembering the way Zhongli had specifically lectured them on the importance of appearance at an event like this. You notes Thoma's expensive looking watch and Kaeya's tailored button-up shirt that was, of course, unbuttoned halfway now that the workday was over. Childe had his suit jacket thrown over his shoulder, one hand holding the jacket the other shoved in his pocket.

"Mr. Zhongli found this fancy looking French restaurant a few blocks away, he wanted us to get there before we missed our reservation time." Thoma answered.

"Where is he?" You asked, taking note of his and Diluc's absence from the group.

"He and Diluc got caught up in some last minute business they had to attend to. It's times like these I don't envy the higher up positions of our company's cofounders." Kaeya answered you this time. "No matter how attractive the pay increase may seem, I can only handle so much overtime."

"You can say that again." Childe chuckled in agreeance, "I can't tell you how many times I've left the office only to come back in the morning and find Zhongli still hunched over some paperwork."

"Hey, guys, I think this is the place." Thoma motioned to the building you were approaching, and you immediately realized that 'fancy looking' was an understatement. "Will you be joining us, Lady (Name)?" Thoma questioned, extending his hand as an invitation to you.

"I don't see why not." You flashed him a smile before placing your hand in his, allowing him to tug you along. Kaeya opened the door for you, gesturing to allow you to step inside first. You were awestruck by the inside -- if you thought ‘fancy looking’ was an understatement for the outside, then the inside could be described as nothing short of grandiose. There were round tables covered in white cloth and fancy silverware, a fountain sat in the middle of the room behind the hostess desk and elegant trimmings lining the staircase off on the far side of the room. You quickly quelled your shocked expression as the hostess approached you.

"We have a reservation for six under the name Zhongli." Childe told her. "We'll have two more joining us later."

She checked her ledger and quickly crossed off the name. "Right this way, sir." She said to Childe with a polite smile. She led your group away from the main room, opening the door to a nicely decorated single-table room with a pleasant and romantic vibe, most likely accredited to the soft lighting.

“Thank you.” Childe told her as you four took your seats. One side of the table had booth-style seating and the other side had individual chairs. She closed the door with a click, and before you knew it you were sat in between Kaeya and Childe on the booth side, with Thoma directly across from you. You picked up a menu and began flipping through it to get a feel for what items might interest you. Before long, Childe’s hand had found its way onto your thigh. You looked down at it before looking back at him, a silent prompt for an explanation. “What?” He inquired mischievously, thumb rubbing your skin gently.

You opened your mouth to respond, but before you could your server opened the door with a brief knock. Childe’s hand stayed firmly in place as the server introduced themselves before asking if they could get you guys anything to drink. Thoma and Childe ordered regular fountain drinks, and requested two extra waters be brought out preemptively for Diluc and Zhongli whenever they should arrive.

“Ah yes may I have a glass of your finest red wine.” Kaeya asked with a smile once it came his time to order, earning a look from you. “What? It’s coming out of Diluc’s pocket not mine, might as well make good use of it.”

"And I'll have a..." You started, feeling Childe's hand inch upwards as the servers gaze remained fixed on you. "Just a r-regular glass of water please." You managed to force out while trying to ignore the growing feeling of need that Childe's attention was causing you. You smiled at the server as they stated that they'd be right back with your drinks.

Moments after the server left, Thoma's phone started buzzing. He answered it and paused for a few moments before he stepped away saying something about needing to meet Diluc and Zhongli in the lobby. That left you alone trapped in a booth with two mischievous gazes focused on you. "I must say, (Name)," Childe started, "you look absolutely stunning tonight. You really took Zhongli's 'Dress to Impress' speech to heart it seems." His flirty demeanor was predictable, earning a chuckle and an eye roll from you. His fingers were tracing patterns into the flesh of your inner thigh, head resting in his other hand as he studied you. You felt Kaeya's arm snake around your torso, hand coming to rest on your hip.

"He's right, you should wear this outfit more often." Kaeya whispered into your ear.

“You know, typically you’re supposed to wine and dine me before you-“ A knock resonated from the door, cutting you off and causing Kaeya to pull away from you but neither him nor Childe made any effort to remove their hands from where they were situated. The server entered with the table’s drinks on a tray, dishing them out to their respective spots on the table before asking if anybody was ready to order. Kaeya told them politely that we would wait for the rest of the group to join us first, and with that they turned and exited the room again.

You watched as Kaeya reached for his no doubt expensive wine, taking a sip and letting out a satisfied hum. "This wine is absolutely divine, it's not often I get the chance to indulge in such luxury. Would you like to try some, angel?" Kaeya asked you while his fingertips traced your hips.

"Sure." You hummed back, reaching out to grab the glass but Kaeya stopped your hand. You looked at him quizzically, watching as he dipped two fingers into the glass and let the crimson liquid pool at his fingertips. He brought his fingers to your lips, waiting for you to part them. You did, but only ever so slightly, letting your tongue drag along his slender fingers with a hum of delight as you maintained eye contact with him. Once upon a time you may have been flustered by his actions, but ever since the incident in the meeting room you have become no stranger to these types of occurrences. You pulled away before pressing a kiss to the pads at the tip of his finger.

"Divine indeed, captain." You added teasingly, the nickname a reference to a costume he wore to a halloween party last year that had caught on and stuck around even months after. You watched his unreadable expression closely as you awaited his response. He grabbed your face, tugging you toward him so he could plant a firm kiss on your lips while he caressed your cheek gently. You felt Childe's hand inch upward yet again further and further before finally reaching your clothed sex. Your breath hitched as Kaeya deepened the kiss, Childe rubbing you through thin material at a teasingly slow pace. You shifted your hips, trying to gain more friction from his fingers.

Kaeya pulled back from the kiss to let you catch your breath. "You know, there is one thing that would make this wine taste better." He kissed along your jaw and down your neck, breath fanning your skin as he continued. "If I could pour it over your chest and lick it off of you, slowly, inch by inch while you squirmed under my touch. That would make this experience undeniably perfect." You felt a shiver run down your spine, hand intertwining with his hair. As if working in tandem with Kaeya, Childe took this opportunity to slip his fingers past the barrier of fabric, your slick making his fingers run smoothly over your folds. Your free hand extended over to Childe's lap so you could palm him through his pants, thumb caressing the imprint of his erection. He let a breathy moan right next to your ear, fingers slipping into your heat.

"This is our reserved room, correct?" Zhongli’s voice resonated from just outside the door before the door swung open. He stepped in, followed by Diluc and Thoma. Your eyes met with Zhongli's as you tried futilely to push the lustful duo off of you. You filled with embarrassment when you thought about how sleazy you must look with Kaeya's lips attached to your neck and Childe's fingers squelching in and out of you. "Thoma, switch with (name), please. Evidently these two are incapable of practicing self control."

"W-what?" You protested, stomach sinking at the thought of disappointing your boss.

"Seriously, you two wouldn't know good timing if it hit you in the face. Your hotel rooms are literally a few yards away from each other." Diluc scoffed, tossing his suit coat over the back of his chair before pulling it out and sitting in it.

Childe pulled away from you, frowning at Diluc's words. "If I'm not mistaken, it was you who was moaning her name last night while you were alone in the shower, no?"

"And if I'm not mistaken, I'm still your boss. Watch how you talk to me." Diluc shot back immediately, crossing his arms over his chest. You scooted out of the booth, over Childe's lap, effectively pulling away from the two.

"Sorry.." You fiddled nervously with the hem of your skirt, still trying to recover from the embarrassment.

"You misunderstand me, gem, I'm not upset at you in the slightest." Zhongli smoothed over some of your hair comfortingly. "I specifically had a talk with these two about keeping things professional on this trip. This has nothing to do with you or your actions." You stared at him for a second before nodding. You took your place in between Zhongli and Diluc, directly across from where you had been previously sitting.

"How did your meetings go?" Zhongli asked you, tone much softer than the one he had just taken with Childe and Kaeya.

"They were boring for the most part, I managed to make a few connections though so that's good. What about you?" You responded, tuning out Diluc and Childe's bickering in the background.

"Stressful, I had many presentations to give, and only few bode over well."

"That's just how it goes." Thoma chimed in. "Tomorrow is a new day filled with new opportunity, I'm sure you'll do better."

"Stressful, eh? Fortunately for you, I know of the perfect way to relieve stress." Kaeya, ever the troublemaker, fixed his gaze on you pointedly for a few seconds to allow his point to get across. He just couldn't help himself when the ball was set up fo perfectly for him to spike it. You studied Zhongli's expression, his face remaining stoic as he processed Kaeya's innuendo.

"Unfortunately, the rules I set for you two apply to me as well. It would be wholly unfair to not hold myself to the same standard I hold my staff." Zhongli answered effortlessly. Seems like all these years of press conferences seemed to have really sharped his ability to form charismatic responses. Wait, 'unfortunately'?

"C'mon, Zhongli, (name)'s had eyes for us just as much as we've had eyes for them. You should see the look they get on their face when they're alone in their office." Childe laughed after ending his bickering session with Diluc. Your eyes went wide at that, having whole-heartedly believed you were being careful about when to indulge in your fantasies. "Besides, doesn't fucking them senseless sound like the perfect pick-me-up after a long day of meetings."

Zhongli seemed like he was still struggling to process his comment, resolve chipping with every second. He couldn't deny the nights he spent replaying the image of you bent over that table while he pleasured himself, and tonight was shaping up to be no different -- well, that would have been the case had he not attended this dinner. His eyes shifted over to you, inner turmoil apparent in them. Evidently, your response would be the deciding factor that pushed Zhongli to either side of the fence.

"He's not wrong." You shrugged, offering Zhongli a small smile. It was a simple sentence, only three words and yet… You watched his expression darken in that moment, his half hard erection already apparent in his pants.

"Thoma," you immediately noted the way his voice seemed to have dropped an octave. His gaze never once left yours.

"Yes boss?" Thoma responded almost instantly.

"Lock the door." Zhongli growled. Your heart skipped a beat, you felt heat rush straight to your core. The way Zhongli was looking at you made you feel bare even though not a single article of clothing had been removed from your form, at least not yet.

"The waitress is going to come back to place our order though." Diluc seemed to be the only voice of reason in this scenario. Thoma returned, scooting back into his spot in the booth, forcing Childe to be the one trapped in the middle this time. "That's gonna look awfully suspicious."

"Frankly, I can't seem to bring myself to care about that right now." Zhongli stood from his seat. He turned toward you, motioning for you to stand as well. "We'll tell them I had an important announcement that I didn't want getting interrupted or something." He lifted you at the hips and set you down on the table, placing himself in between your legs and pulling your core to meet his crotch. His lips caught yours, deep and breathtaking, as his hands roamed over your body. He tugged your shirt to untuck it until his fingers came into contact with the hem. He pulled it up, breaking the kiss to allow him to discard your shirt.

You found yourself rocking against him as his lips worked down your neck and chest. A new pair of hands hooked themselves under your bra clasp. You looked back to see Childe's arm extended. He pushed the straps off your arms, allowing the bra to fall away and expose your breasts. The cool air made your nipple perk instantly. You felt Childe's hands tug you down gently, allowing your back to lay against the cool cloth. You looked over to see Diluc's hands full of your table's drinks as he set them off to the side to avoid any accidents. Thoma eagerly took one of your nipples into his mouth while Kaeya's cold hand cupped the other.

Childe scooted the table away from him to provide him with the room to stand up. Your cheeks burned as you found yourself face to face with his still clothed erection. He chuckled at your expression, fingers caressing your cheek. He let his pointer finger trail delicately down your jaw to your chin, and then from your chin down your exposed neck. You shivered slightly at the way it tickled.

You felt someone tug down your skirt and your underwear, cool air rushing over your core. Zhongli had managed to free his member from his pants and was pumping himself outside of your field of vision. His other hand was pressed to your hip. He admired the way your chest heaved. Thoma and Kaeya littered your skin with bite marks and kisses. You watched intently as Childe followed in Zhongli's lead, freeing himself from his pants. Your lips parted slightly in anticipation, breath fanning the tip of Childe's dick with every exhale. Zhongli lined himself up with your entrance, you clenched your fists when you felt his tip push in. He sunk the rest of the way into you, a sigh of relief falling from his lips. He silently thanked Kaeya and Childe for prepping you so well before he had even arrived. Childe repeated this same process with your lips, slowly sinking into your mouth and relishing the feeling of your warm tongue wrapping around him.

The men both started thrusting at the same time but at very different paces. Childe was eager and less restrained, holding you steady while he fucked your face. He was also louder, not seeming to care if the staff or other patrons heard how good you were making him feel. Zhongli on the other hand was slower, drawing all the way out of you before slamming back into you. Though, after a few moments he seemed to compromise with himself and picked up the pace slightly, only drawing partially out of you, but still enough to let you feel his tip hit deep inside of you with each powerful thrust. You felt Diluc's familiar fingers come into contact with your clit, rubbing you in just the right way to make you clench around Zhongli and moan around Childe. Diluc left kisses all over your lower half, his long hair spilling over his shoulder and tickling your stomach.

The lewd sounds of slapping and kissing and sucking were all that could be heard in the room, along with Childe’s occasional unrestrained noises of pleasure. He moaned your name, head thrown back and mouth agape. His cheeks were flushed bright pink, and they only seemed to glow brighter the closer he got to cumming. Childe's pace became sloppy and erratic as he drew near to his own orgasm, thrusts becoming shallow as he chased euphoria. He pulled out right as he hit his high point so he could paint your chest with his cum. He moaned your name particularly loudly as he did, using his own hand to slowly lower himself down from his peak.

Kaeya pulled back and marveled at the marks he left on your skin, the imprints of his teeth visible in several spots. "My turn already?" He hummed, fingers tracing over the splotches and bruises on your skin. "A shame, I wasn't finished with my work of art yet." He stood up nonetheless as Childe fell back on the seat behind him, still trying to catch his breath. Kaeya quickly took his place, much to Thoma's disappointment. Kaeya's signature smirk hadn't left his face once while he admired the way your breasts glistened with a mixture of sweat and cum. He slowly undid the button to his pants, pushing them partially down his legs before moving to his underwear. You swear his cock bounced when it sprang free, tip flushed and absolutely beautiful. It seems this man truly didn't have an ugly bone in his body.

You felt Zhongli slowly coming undone inside you too, his cock twitching more and more every time he pushed himself into your smooth walls, even more so whenever Diluc's added stimulation made you clench around him. You felt yourself rock against his fingers, your own climax on the horizon. Zhongli gave one final thrust into you before you felt him spill his hot seed into you, his fingers digging into your hips in an attempt to ground himself. You moaned at the feeling of your walls being coated white. Kaeya took this as an opportunity to muffle you with his cock. He stuffed your mouth full of him, watching in a sort of satisfied sadistic fashion as you choked slightly on his length.

Zhongli pulled out of you after he finished cumming, panting heavily. You whined around Kaeya's cock at the loss of contact, hole clenching desperately around nothing. You squirmed your hips and mewled, hoping someone would get your wordless plea for some form of stimulation. Diluc, ever so observant, was the first one to pick up on your discomfort. "Aw, does my little princess want to be filled up again?" He asked tauntingly. "Do you want my cock inside of you?" His fingers continued to push you toward your orgasm. He chuckled at the way you jerked your hips into his touch, whines becoming louder still even with your mouth full of Kaeya's erection. As he felt your body start to tense, he withdrew his hand from your clit before you could cum. You pressed your thighs together while a groan left your lips, feeling frustrated tears well up in your eyes.

Diluc switched spots with Zhongli and unzipped his pants loud enough to get the anticipation in your stomach building rapidly. You heard fabric bunching and shuffling, and in turn took advantage of the adrenaline rush you were getting to eagerly please Kaeya. You hollowed your cheeks and allowed your tongue to work over him, lewd sucking noises escaping your lips. Kaeya groaned in response, his grip on your head tightening still as he bucked his hips into you frantically. You felt Zhongli's rough hands run over the skin of your breasts, centering on the nipples. You felt him wipe some of Childe's cum off you, and moments later the feeling of his fingers got replaced with his tongue as he sucked slightly on the soft flesh.

You sucked in a sharp breath when you felt Diluc's tip at your entrance, face contorting as you prepared for him to stretch you out just like Zhongli had. You paused as he pushed in -- not all the way, just an inch or so -- to truly revel in the feeling the he was providing you. He sunk in a little bit more to let you get used to the feeling of him in your tight sex, he was a little more girthy than Zhongli. Finally, he pushed into you until he bottomed out, filling your cunt to the brim with his member. A quiet groan escaping his lips; you would give anything to see the blissful look on his face right now.

You squirmed as he started to move. He went slowly at first, letting himself become coated in your slick to make his job easier. He took a few moments to find a good rhythm, one that was much different from Zhongli's. He was steady and consistent, pulling out an inch or two only to push back into you. He lifted one of your legs to give him a better angle, you let out a muffled moan as his tip kissed your sweet spot. Kaeya groaned again at the vibration of your voice. You felt Kaeya’s thumb press slightly against the center of your throat where he could feel himself thrusting in and out of you. You swallowed around him as he gave his last few thrusts before he was sent over the edge, cumming in spurts over your tongue. He let out a long moan that you wanted to keep on repeat forever.

You caught sight of Thoma eagerly awaiting his chance to feel your mouth around him. Kaeya pulled out slowly, stepping to the side (albeit a little bit grudgingly) to let Thoma have his turn. Thoma has already freed himself, precum leaking from the tip. He seemed a little nervous as he found himself finally aligned with your awaiting mouth. “Are you sure this is alright?” He asked, closely watching your face for signs of discomfort. His gentleness was refreshing after the way Kaeya and Childe so unceremoniously face-fucked you.

You giggled, kissing his tip causing his ears to flush red. “Mhm, of course. You’re so good for me~” His eyes went wide at your praise. You let your mouth hang open as an invitation for him to enter you, a high pitched whine escaping him almost immediately after sinking into you. He cupped your head gently, pulling out of you slowly before pushing back into you, truly appreciating the stimulation you were giving him.

Kaeya truly could never sit still with an opportunity so grand in front of him. His fingers found their way to toy with your clit, his cold fingers making you squirm under his touch. Childe, who was still on the couch, had gotten hard again and was pumping himself as he watch you slowly get your holes stuff full of cum. You moaned as Diluc’s dick hit your sweet spot again and again, Kaeya’s cold fingers causing your head to spin. You could feel your orgasm coming fast, and it felt like it was going to be an intense one. You arched your back off the table, whines becoming increasingly more frequent the more pressure built up. Diluc also seemed to be nearing his release, you could always tell by the way he moaned your name. A few more thrusts into you was all it took for you to come undone. You cried out, thighs quivering as you squirted all over Kaeya’s fingers and Diluc’s cock alike. Diluc followed a few seconds after, burying himself inside of you as he came hard, eyes intently watching the sight of you during and after your orgasm.

Thoma’s cock twitched as he watched you make a mess over Diluc’s cock, his breathy moans of your name getting louder and louder. He knew it wouldn’t take long for him to finish, not with the way your tongue traced his veins and your hand assisting him with whatever he couldn’t fit in your mouth. You felt the knot come undone and Thoma’s sweet cum flooded your mouth. He pulled out, gently wiping the spit from your face.

The room was filled with nothing but the sound of heavy breathing as everyone came down from their highs. Zhongli was even nice enough to grab your water from where Diluc had set them off to the side and offer you some as he dabbed away some of your sweat with a napkin. Diluc finally pulled his now softened member out of you, admiring the way your cum-filled hole leaked. He had to fight the urge to fuck every last drop back into you.

A knock resonated from the door, causing everyone in the room to freeze. “Um, sorry to interrupt,” the servers voice sounded meekly from outside the door, “you guys reservation time is up…” You cringed at the idea of having to walk back to your hotel room in this state, legs still wobbly and cum all over you.

“I supposed to ‘important announcement’ excuse won’t work now..” If you didn’t know any better, you’d say Zhongli sounded amused. “No need to fret, I’ll just pay them a generous tip to overlook this little.. endeavor.”

“You mean I’ll pay the tip.” Diluc cut in flatly. You all were lucky the company had the money to be avoiding scandals like this or else you’d all be done for. Maybe he could convince you to, uh, thank him for it later…

[to-star-lake]

one & only

sanzu haruchiyo x f!reader { you're sanzu's one and only. }

18+ minors dni | murder, drug use, dark themes, rough sex, choking, toxic relationship, character death, bonten sanzu

a/n: sanzu's name { 三途 } is written the same as 三途の川 { sanzu-no-kawa, “river of three crossings” or “sanzu river” } which is the japanese buddhist version of the river styx.

sanzu doesn't call you his girlfriend. he'd never use such pedestrian language to describe what you are to him. soulmate is closer. but still, to take everything he felt about you and edit it down to a single word? it wouldn't be possible.

the best he could describe it is perhaps that you were made for him.

the day mikey introduced you to the other executives as bonten's newest advisor, sanzu stood in the back of the room, unconsciously biting his lip as he stared at your clean and crisp white tee shirt, tucked neatly into a pair of black slacks. your perfect skin. your shiny hair pulled back into a neat ponytail. your delicate hands. and the sharp glisten of your eyes. you looked so sincere.

a top scholar and graduate of the national university. your parents had been foreign diplomats. you spoke five languages. all this brilliance packaged neatly behind such a pretty face. oh, you were so perfect. so pristine. i'll make you regret playing with monsters, little princess. sanzu thought he couldn't wait to break you.

it didn't take him long to realize how wrong he was.

he'd stare at your hands, the ones he thought were so delicate, as they beat mercilessly into the skull of a traitor that lay limp beneath you. being a bonten advisor meant you never needed to get your hands dirty. but you didn't mind. and sanzu felt a trickling heat of excitement shimmy up his spine watching the blood splatter across your perfect skin, staining your clean shirt.

he'd listen in awe in the war room as your fingertips traced gracefully over blueprints of the city, and you'd describe plans for a new building downtown. a new shell business to run money through. a merger with a smaller, weaker gang simply as a means to procure disposable foot soldiers for mikey.

on one particular night, he'd sat back and watched you, transfixed, as he pulled the car up beside a dark tinted suv at a stoplight on a deserted street on the outskirts of shinjuku. you'd pointed your gun out the open window, so fast and precise on the trigger, taking out all the passengers in the car. he would've missed the shots with a single blink.

he couldn't recall all the details of the rest of that night. but he woke to find you in his bed the next morning, your naked body tucked comfortably under his sheets beside him.

his head pounded and he tried to remember what happened but all that he could recall were a series of blurred images. of the two of you leaving the war room together after receiving orders from mikey to take out the heads of a rival gang. a vision of your bare thighs, exposed under a short, plaid skirt as you sat in his passenger seat, and the quiet rattle as you attached a silencer to the end of your gun.

he remembered the sound of indistinct chatter and an image of you sitting across from him in a dimly lit restaurant. a vague recollection of a bottle of scotch, of him staring at himself in the restaurant's bathroom mirror as he wiped some white residue from his upper lip. of you, bent over the sink with a straw in your nose. a blurred reel of your legs wrapped around his waist, of him pushing you up against the mirror so hard the glass cracked and you moaned into his open mouth. you sounded as sweet as you tasted.

in the grey winter light here in his bed, he looked at the blotches of blue and purple bruises that lined your neck and chest. at the edge of your perfect lips, a little swollen and the skin a little cracked. at the indentation of teeth marks on your shoulder, red with coagulated blood under the surface.

your eyes fluttered open and for a moment he was afraid. afraid that the cold light of day would be too harsh for you. afraid that all that was mystifying and beautiful in the night would be destroyed by the light. afraid you would leave.

but you'd looked into his eyes for a moment, and your lashes fell closed and you'd snuggled into his side, languidly dragging your arm across his chest.

let's sleep a little more, my head hurts and we still have at least another hour before we have to go meet the others.

oh, your voice sounded so sweet, still raspy with sleep, a lullaby to his ears.

as bonten leaders, he knew a relationship with you was strictly forbidden. he knew what mikey would do if he or any of the others ever found out. and he knew you knew too.

but you simply shrugged your shoulders as you picked up your clothes that were scattered across the floor of his bedroom. like you knew what he was thinking, and said i'm not afraid of them. are you?

he'd laughed at himself then. just who was corrupting who? he wondered.

the time he had with you began to envelope his heart. and the love he felt for you; small, crackling embers at first, had grown into a fire so bright and wild and twisted it could not be extinguished.

you were his partner; his chosen one. he loved the way your knuckles looked when they were bruised and red; such a beautiful contrast against your delicate and soft skin. he loved the way your fingers graced the handle of your gun, the dead calm of your eyes when you pulled the trigger. he was intoxicated with the knowledge that you were watching every time he carried out his duty as executioner.

his infatuation with you burned in his chest when he'd glance up at you, standing in the distance, eyes fixed on him and you'd slowly drag the palm of your hand up your thigh; testing his willpower to not pin you to the ground and tear you apart right then and there in front of his men.

under the cover of darkness, the two of you came alive. going on sprees, speeding through the bright streets of tokyo, the lights around you a blurred spectral of color to your bloodshot, medicated eyes.

in the midnight hours, your bodies would be intertwined, and in your arms he found a sanctuary. your body was the most addicting drug of all. you made all the pain disappear.

the quiet hours of the early morning, when time teetered on the edge of night and day, he'd lay on your chest, and for just a little while, his world would fall quiet. the air around him felt still. he would be coming down from his high, and he could feel everything. but he didn't mind. these small hours of lucidity shone brilliantly in his mind. when he could hear your breathing. feel your heartbeat so vividly beneath your bones. smell the lingering and sweet scent of your skin on his.

he'd become so possessed by you, so possessive of you that one night when he had you laid out beneath him, your legs spread wide for him, and he thought you looked so beautiful like this. so perfect like this for him. your skin, slick with a layer of sweat, luminescent in the moonlight. your lips, parted and choking out shaky pleas for him, begging him not to stop.

he buried himself so deep inside you, nails clawing into your skin, so desperate to be one with you. and he thought no one, no one else would have you like this. he was so intoxicated by the medley of pills in his system, completely unhinged in the euphoria of being inside you, he'd reached for his gun on the nightstand and held it to your forehead, point blank between your eyes.

you didn't even flinch. he watched you knock the gun from his hands, and slide your fingers up his wrists, and pulled his hands to your neck, letting him wrap them around your throat. if you're gonna kill me, do it with your own hands, you'd said.

god, he loved you so much. he wanted you so much, he needed you so much. he'd closed his hands around your neck with the gentlest force and watched your eyes roll back.

say my name, he'd command. and when you did, he closed his hands more forcefully around your delicate neck so he could feel the vibration in your throat as you choked out his name over and over. you'd clenched down so tight around him and he came harder than he ever had, collapsing into you.

he'd slowly let go of you, chest heaving, and gently caress at the skin of your neck, red and starting to bruise.

y/n...if i died, would you die with me? he'd whisper into your skin.

mmh, yeah. you'd whisper back.

i don't want anyone else to have you. i want you to be mine forever. he'd kiss the corner of your lips.

he'd feel your fingers laced up into his hair, your legs wrapped around his hips, pulling him close.

what am i going to do with you...i might really kill you one of these days.

he'd lift his head to look at you. and your expression didn't change a bit. your eyes held the same resolve they always did, and you said, then i'll wait for you by the sanzu river.

this was what flashed through his mind when he walked into one of bonten's warehouses late one evening for a meeting of the executives, and he saw all of them standing in a circle around you, bound and tied, blood streaming from your hairline, your bruised body limp on the concrete.

he fell to his knees then, watching mikey shove the end of his gun against your temple.

did you think i wouldn't find out? mikey's thumb clicked down on the hammer.

he saw your eyes flutter open and find his. you smiled.

the muzzle flash was bright, and the shot rang through the dark, open space.

he stared at the blood pooling from the side of your head into the dust. he felt a single tear roll down his cheek. shit, am i really crying right now? he laughed at himself.

WHO ARE YOU LOYAL TO, SANZU?! mikey demanded.

i'll wait for you by the sanzu river. your words echoed in his mind.

mikey may have been his king. but you were the redeemer, his messiah, his salvation.

the choice was simple.

he pulled his own gun from its holster and held it up to his temple.

i'm on my way, love.

[the-butterfly-blues]

Handsome Dwarf

Pairing: Kíli x Female Reader Summary: Going out for some drinks, Fíli and Kíli join in on a celebration. Sadly, the older of the two has more luck wooing the ladies as the younger is faced with insults about his appearance. Luckily, a gorgeous woman stands amidst the crowd that doesn’t care about the length of his beard. Word Count: 943

In the Blue Mountains, the future princes would sneak out to drink in a nearby town. Doing so at the moment, they hadn't expected some kind of celebration to be going on. They didn't know what it was about, but they did know that booze was being passed around and ladies were dancing. Grabbing drinks, they sit back to look over everything for a moment before moving to flirt. Though, both Fíli and Kíli are handsome, the older of the two has the most luck as the other keeps getting shut down.

"Is that really a dwarf?" "Can't be. He has no beard." "They pride themselves on their beards, don't they?" "Yeah. I think he's just a short man or something." "That'd explain it."

The whispers only continue to get worse as they focus on his stubble. Clenching his jaw, he steps back from the crowd to try and find his brother, wanting to leave. He wouldn't force Fíli to leave, but the least he could do is let his brother know that he'll be headed home. When scanning the crowd, a gorgeous woman catches his eye. She stands with two other woman as a few men try to flirt with them. Shaking his head lightly, he believes that he has no chance as the comments of his facial hair continue around him. Soon, he spots his brother, just past the beautiful woman and her friends. Taking a deep breath, he stands tall before he starts making his way through the crowd to his brother.

"There's that dwarf we were telling you about." "Yeah, the one without a beard. Can you believe that?" "A dwarf without a beard? It sounds like a fairy tale, right?"

Kíli's self-esteem only continues to fall as he passes the woman and her supposed friends.

"That's him? Right there?"

She questions, looking down at the dwarf who freezes in place once their eyes meet. Kíli is partially shocked that she'd taken notice of him and wishes to know what's going on behind those dazzling eyes of hers. He'd never seen someone so beautiful with such an angelic voice. Blinking rapidly for a moment to shake herself from her stupor, she sends him a smile and holds up a finger, silently telling him that she'd only be a moment. She turns on her heel with crossed arms and though he can't see her expression, he can tell that she's upset.

"You two should be ashamed of yourselves! Speaking so rudely about a man you don't even know? I'd love to stoop to your level, but frankly, I'd rather spend my time with someone more meaningful."

Turning back around, he watches as she gracefully makes her way to him, still shocked that she had noticed him of all people in a crowd as large as this.

"I'm terribly sorry for them and, well, everyone else. They shouldn't be speaking ill of someone without talking to them first. My name is [Name]." "Kíli. My name is Kíli."

For the first time, he's at a loss for words as he can't even think of a witty comment. In a sea of insults, she had come to rescue him.

"Kíli? It suits you. A handsome name for an even more handsome dwarf."

His cheeks flush an obvious red, causing her to laugh lightly, but not condescendingly. In fact, he’d love to hear it again as it sounds heavenly, like a harp’s strings being plucked perfectly or a fiddle being played flawlessly.

“Is it safe to assume you’ve come on your own? No dwarrowdam I have to worry about?” “No, no, I came here with my brother. I’ve no lady.” “Well, that surely is a relief!” “Why is it a relie-”

Before he can finish his question, she’s gently grabbed his handle and has begun pulling him towards the music where people dance freely. She makes sure that her grip on his hand is loose enough so he can easily pull away if he doesn’t wish to dance with her, though he makes no effort to stop her. Instead, he moves quick enough to walk beside her, flashing her a bright grin despite his cheeks still being tinged red. The night continues on joyously for the black-haired dwarf as [Name] never leaves his side, happily dancing, drinking, and talking with him. Once the celebration has calmed down and most people have gone home, the two must say their goodbyes. They stand together, holding each other’s hands as if they wish they didn’t have to part.

“I believe this has been one of the best nights of my life thanks to you.” “I’m glad to hear that.”

Silence falls around them as they simply stare into one another’s eyes, taking this time to further memorize each other so that they’ll never forget.

“Will I see you again?” “You will. I promise.” “I’ll hold you to that. As much as I hate it, you should go before your brother becomes impatient.”

Releasing her hands, Kíli turns to join his brother in their walk home, but is quickly stopped as he’s spun back towards her. He can feel a sudden pressure on his lips and it takes him a moment to comprehend exactly what’s happening. Closing his eyes, he leans into the kiss as her hands gently cup his cheeks and his own find purchase on her hips, pulling her closer. Though they part, their noses still gently touch.

“Take care, handsome dwarf.”

With a final peck on his lips, she leaves him with a smile, waving one last time as she rounds a corner, leaving Fíli to deal with his flustered and starstruck brother.

[bitsandbobsofwriting]

Merlin’s previously hidden horrific past comes to light;

The gang learn that everything they know about Merlin is a well-constructed façade when the truth about his “Military” history comes out.

TW: Child soldiers, abuse + torture, lots of blood and death and nightmares, potential PTSD?

When King Arthur had received the official looking letter requesting an audience about troubles with the border, he’d thought nothing much of it; the tone of the letter didn’t lead him to think there would be any serious conflict.

He replied to the Essetirian Lord, figuring it would end up being a simple issue of river boundaries or overstepping patrols, they could discuss it and fix the problem amicably, and then part ways without issue.

Arthur wasn’t a fan of the way Essetir worked; they were far too authoritarian for his liking, and they were known for their use of slave labour, terror tactics, and child soldiers, but peace had been harboured between the Kingdoms, so he could hardly complain.

The fact that Arthur didn’t see it as a big deal, means he didn’t mention it to Merlin until the day of the Lord’s arrival, and even then, he didn’t mention the Lord’s name, or where in Essetir he came from.

Merlin may have seemed a little tense at the mention of Essetirian Lords, but Arthur shrugged it off, figuring high taxes and village raids probably left him with a mistrust of authority from his home kingdom.

~

Arthur was sat in his throne, crown atop his head, when the Lord arrived. His roundtable knights and a few select members of his council sat in their own chairs at the side of the room, and Merlin stood dutifully beside him.

He preferred to have a small audience when first greeting foreign authority, hence only having nine people, including himself, in the room. 

Arthur trusted Leon, Lancelot, Percival, Elyan, Gwaine, Guinevere, Gaius, and Merlin, to subtly analyse and scrutinize the visitor for anything troubling, and report back to him truthfully later. Arthur trusted his wider council, of course he did, but experience with these particular people told him they were better equipped to handle any sort of conflict or worries.

Which means when Merlin quietly took in a sharp breath, tensed up, and stepped back to be behind him when The Lord walked in, he immediately noticed.

He makes no motion to question him though, assuming that perhaps this particular Lord had passed through Ealdor at some point, and made a mental note to question Merlin later.

The Lord bows deeply, and raises to meet Arthur’s gaze with a wide, friendly smile:

“I am Lord Severin of Essetir, I appreciate your quick response to my letter, and am grateful for the invitation to your beautiful kingdom, My Lord.”

At first, Arthur had been curious, and mildly concerned, but Gaius’s sharp intake of breath and stiffening back at the mention of the Lord’s name, tip him right over the line into being officially worried.

Did this particular Lord have some sort of reputation Arthur was unaware of? He, again, makes no moves to suggest that he had noticed Gaius’s reaction, and instead returns the Lord’s smile:

“Of course, you’re more than welcome. Guest chambers have been set up for you, if you would like to stay for a few days? I can imagine it was a long journey.”

The Lord nods, and keeping his smile, says:

“Thank you, I had planned on booking a room for a few nights, but if you’ll have me?”

Arthur nods in return, quickly speaking before the Lord can thank him again:

“Of course. Is the border discussion a lengthy issue, or something we can resolve quickly now? I have my most trusted advisors with us, should there be a political issue?”

Lord Severin shakes his head roughly, giving Arthur a sympathetic shrug:

“In all honestly, My Lord, as far as I’m concerned there isn’t an issue, but a few of my men were worried, and the only way I could see to resolve it was an official meeting to reassure them.-”

Arthur smiles, gesturing for him to continue:

“-Over the past several years, multiple Camelot Knights have been seen crossing the boundary, and spending a few days at a time in a small border-village on the Essetir side. I am under no impression that anything underhanded is happening, but a few of my inferiors were getting twitchy about it.”

Arthur once again hears Merlin take in a shaky breath, and furrows his eyebrow in curiosity:

“Which village?”

“It’s name is Ealdor, My Lord.”

Arthur smiles widely in understanding and nods his head, relaxing:

“Ah yes. A highly ranked member of the castle staff has family there, and depending on how dangerous the journey is predicted to be, I’ll often send him with a knight escort when he visits home.”

Lord Severin nods his head, before tilting it curiously and saying:

“Might I ask which member of staff? I spent some time in Ealdor a few years back, colour me... curious.”

The smile on his face is a little sharper now, but Arthur hardly sees the harm in telling him; he’ll only be here for a few days at most anyway. 

Arthur gestures a hand behind him:

“Merlin.”

He looks back and frowns, questioning his decision, when he sees Merlin staring blankly at the floor. He’s statue still, but Arthur can see the way his jaw tenses, and the paleness of his skin.

He turns back to see the Lord staring up at Merlin with an inquisitive expression. Just as Arthur resigns himself to say something, a look of wolfish realisation crosses the Lord’s face, and he speaks softly, as if to himself:

“Merlin from Ealdor, eh?-”

His grin turns even more wicked, and his volume rises:

“-I was under the impression that you had died, my dear boy.”

Arthur furrows his brows in confusion, and Merlin, without raising his gaze, quietly replies:

“No, My Lord.”

Severin chuckles, a hint of cruelty in the noise, but before he can say anything Arthur asks:

“You know each other?”

The Lord looks to him, as if only just remembering he was in the presence of a King, and smirks:

“Know each other? Why, Merlin was once one of my best. You’re astoundingly lucky to have a bodyguard with such incredible skill, My Lord. I was sad to lose him.”

Arthur glances at Merlin, who seems somehow even paler, before looking back to Severin in confusion, tilting his head:

“Merlin isn’t my bodyguard, he can barely carry a sword. He’s my personal manservant. Perhaps you have the wrong man?”

Severin shakes his head resolutely, before staring at Merlin:

“No, that’s him, I would recognise him anywhere. Like I said, I was sad to see him go.”

At Arthur’s continued confusion, Lord Severin gives him a patronising smile, quietly saying:

“Perhaps a demonstration is in order-”

He turns back to Merlin, speaking loudly this time, as Arthur and the others look on in bewilderment. Gaius however, looks increasingly worried, rather than confused.

“-Step forward, Merlin.”

Merlin, without hesitation, walks stiffly forward, standing to attention just in front of Arthur, hands straight by his side, and his gaze unwaveringly forward, focussed on the wall behind Severin. 

Arthur stands from his throne, moving to stand by the council chairs so he could see Merlin’s face. What he spies however, is a tense blankness that he’s only even seen in the brief moments when Merlin thinks no one is looking at him.

The Lord rolls his eyes condescendingly at Merlin:

“You know I hate it when you stand so stiffly Merlin, it’s bad form. Stand at ease.”

Again, without hesitation, Merlin kicks ones of his legs out slightly, and moves his hands to be tightly clutched behind his back, shaking almost imperceptibly. Still, he does not change his expression as the gang look on worriedly.

“Are you armed, Merlin?”

Merlin gives one firm nod, before saying in a monotonous voice:

“Always, My Lord.”

Severin gestures vaguely with his hand, muttering:

“Show me.”

With that, Merlin taps his right wrist to his hip before flicking his arm out to the side, and with the movement, a dagger slides from a hidden holster under his sleeve, and falls gracefully into Merlin’s hand.

Everyone in the gang, bar Gaius, was taken aback, They’d known Merlin for years, ten in the cases of Arthur, Leon, and Gwen. How had they never known that Merlin was always carrying a weapon?

The Lord looks only mildly impressed as he holds a hand out, crooking his fingers towards himself slightly. Merlin throws the knife gently, his aim perfect as the handle lands in the centre of Severin’s palm.

He passes the blade from hand to hand, humming thoughtfully, before saying:

“It’s not very well weighted, incredibly poor quality, but-”

With that, he looks back up at Merlin, the wolfish grin having returned to his face, but the gang only have a second to be confused before the Lord pulls his hand back, and hurls the knife directly at Merlin’s head.

The velocity at which the blade moves through the air... well, a slower man would have died. But Merlin is apparently not a slow man.

With his focus still on the wall somewhere behind the Lord, he whips his hand up, quicker than lightening, and catches the handle of knife with the blade just an inch away from his eye. Only then, does his gaze move across to the dagger, and he brings his hand down, slipping it back into it’s holster as if he was entirely unbothered by what had just happened. The Lord finishes his sentence:

“-anything can be a weapon in the hands of a killer. Back to your post, Merlin.”

Merlin bows slightly, and moves back, expression still blank as the gang stare at him with various expressions of shock and confusion.

Arthur moves back to his throne, careful to keep his face blank, though struggling not to stare at Merlin worriedly, before he says:

“Well, that was quite a display. Any other uh... stories to tell, Lord Severin?”

The man shakes his head, laughing, and replies:

“No, Your Majesty, that is all. I will reassure my employees that the visits to Ealdor are purely personal, and order them to leave it be.”

Arthur gulps and frowns slightly at the sudden change it topic, wanting desperately to look back and check on Merlin, but not daring to, as he replies:

“Of course. I’m afraid I will not be able to join you for dinner tonight, or breakfast in the morning, though I extend my invitation for you to visit the training grounds before noon. I have my best scheduled for tomorrow.”

As he says this, he gestures to the five roundtable knights, who all wipe the confusion off their faces as the Lord glances at them. In actual fact, none of them were scheduled to train tomorrow morning, but it had become habit over the years for Arthur to use them as a subtle display of strength whenever a visitor unnerved or worried him.

Severin looks back to the King, giving him a nod as he accepts:

“I would love nothing more, My Lord.”

Arthur smiles tightly and nods before dismissing him, his harsh gaze not leaving the Lord’s back until the door shuts behind him.

The moment he’s left the room, Arthur stands up, dizzyingly quickly, and steps around the throne to question Merlin, only to find that the manservant gone, slipped away through the servant’s door.

He speedily goes to follow him, wanting to get to the bottom of whatever the hell that was, but Gwen’s desperate voice halts him:

“Stop! He clearly doesn’t want to talk about it right now, we should leave him be-”

Arthur turns around and goes to retort, but Gwen cuts him off:

“-and besides, no one knows this castle better than Merlin, he’s long gone. If he doesn’t want to be found, then he won’t be found. Leave him be for a while.”

The King desperately wants to argue, but he begrudgingly nods, knowing that Gwen is right. He frowns at the desperate and questioning looks that Lancelot sends to Gaius, unaware that Arthur is looking at them.

Gaius shakes his head slightly, and Lancelot visibly relaxes, only to tense again when Arthur asks:

“Lancelot, Gaius? Do you know what just happened?”

The knights averts his gaze after giving a brief shake of the head, the Physician looks to Arthur, clearly mentally debating on the best way to answer the question. He gulps before speaking slowly:

“Other than Merlin’s mother, I am the only one to know the truth. However it is a very... personal, and frankly traumatising, topic for Merlin, and I don’t feel it’s my place to tell you. Might I request that you allow Merlin to keep his distance from Lord Severin?”

Arthur looks like he wants to argue, but the warning looks he receives from Leon and Gwen stop him, and he once again begrudgingly nods:

“I... fine. But I’ll want to know eventually. If I’m to have dealings with this Lord, I need to know if he’s involved in anything troubling."

Gaius sighs and nods:

“It is... nothing that Essetirian Lords aren’t already known for, My Lord.”

Arthur tilts his head in confusion, that doesn’t sound like it bodes particularly well but... he’d already agreed not to pry. Gaius was clearly trying not to let too much on and trying to hide how freaked out he was. Which also didn’t bode well.

Arthur copies Gaius’s sigh, nodding to himself as he gestures vaguely at the group and tiredly says:

“Alright, you’re all dismissed. Keep an eye out for Merlin, and I want to know where that Lord is at all times. There was a servant in the corridor waiting to take him to his rooms, so I would appreciate it if one of you could go check he made it. I want to know if anything happens. Rest well tonight, I want you at your best for tomorrow.”

Everyone gives a decisive nod, Leon stalking off to follow the Lord, and the others separating out to complete their normal tasks. Half-heartedly mind you, as all of them were more focussed on trying to wrap their heads around what had just happened.

~

None of them saw Merlin for the rest of the day, or the next morning. They would have been more worried, but nothing was missing from his room, a few of the castle staff had reported seeing him briefly, here and there, and the Lord had yet to try anything untoward.

When Arthur had gotten to his room that night, dinner was ready and waiting, the room had been tidied, his sleep clothes had been folded and laid on his pillow, and the hearth had been lit.

The next morning was the same. Arthur woke to to see that his empty dinner tray had been replaced with a full breakfast tray, his clothes for the day had been laid out, and his desk had been organised with a list of today’s duties left in the centre.

Arthur huffed at Merlin’s absence. He hadn’t gotten that much sleep last night, the more he thought about what had happened, the more restless he became.

There was a lot of things to worry about.

Gaius being openly shaken and worried was especially concerning. The man was usually unflappable, so whatever it was... it was bad.

And what had Lancelot been so scared about? He seemed genuinely confused but he still knows something.

And what Merlin had done with that knife...

Arthur could understand Merlin hiding a part of his life, just not mentioning it, especially if it was as traumatising as Gaius let on, but to actively lie?? To put up a clumsy, useless front with no prompting?? That was most certainly worrying. “Incredible skill” Severin had said. “One of my best”, what does that even mean??

He had called Merlin a Killer.

Still, Arthur didn’t call for his manservant to be summoned. The man was clearly after some privacy, and despite Arthur’s powerful curiosity, Gaius’s fear and Merlin’s disappearing act held him back, at least for the time being.

After finishing some paperwork, Arthur headed down to the armoury, to be met by a squire who had clearly been waiting for him. At Arthur’s confused expression, the boy tells him that he had been instructed by Merlin to help The King with his armour, and that he would be round later.

Arthur nodded, hiding his confusion. Merlin was usually incredibly protective of Arthur’s armour, BUT he said he’d be coming by later, so it wasn’t as if he were fully disposed for the whole day. Hmm.

Perhaps he was simply trying to avoid being in close quarters with Arthur, alone. Being stood at the side of a field whilst the Knights sparred was hardly the same as helping Arthur dress, one-on-one.

Still, Arthur didn’t call for his manservant to be summoned. If he weren’t so worried about Merlin, he’d be childishly proud of himself for being so selfless and caring.

He met the other five knights on the training field, satisfied to see them all in full armour, preparing for full-contact sparring. Apparently they all wanted to intimidate this Lord just as much as Arthur did. Now all they had to do was wait for the guy to show.

But Merlin appeared first. No one noticed him for a little while, but Gwaine getting distracted in the middle of a fight and allowing himself to be tripped by Elyan, certainly bought everyone’s attention to the raven-haired servant stood at the side of the field that had caught his eye.

Merlin’s expression was the same as it was yesterday. Meaning: expressionless, blank.

He doesn’t react at all as the knights stare at him, and only nods slightly when Arthur raises a hand in greeting, despite not looking directly at him. Leon’s quiet-

“Sire?”

-breaks Arthur out of his stupor, and he mutters back:

“Leave him be. He usually stands much closer than that, so he’s clearly still not in the mood to talk.”

Elyan furrows his brows as he finally helps Gwaine to his feet, before saying:

“He knows the Lord is meant to be here. If he wanted to avoid him, why come?”

Arthur shrugs but Lancelot looks surprised, and speaks as though the answer was the most obvious thing in the world:

“He’s protective of Arthur. No matter the history between Severin and himself, if he thinks the Lord is dangerous he wouldn’t allow Arthur to be in his presence without being there as well.”

Arthur frowns and huffs, but doesn’t say anything as the others nod their heads. He gestures for Leon to step into the ring with him, conscious of the fact that they had just been stood around talking.

Luckily, Severin showed up just as Arthur and Leon started to get into the swing of things, and the other knights could tell the exact moment the two of them noticed the Lord, stood about ten feet to Merlin’s left; the fight got much more... vicious.

A pro of having worked together practically their whole knighthoods (and before, for Arthur), was that Arthur and Leon could give their absolute all in matches against each other, and not have to worry about miss-stepping or accidentally hurting one another.

The sparring sessions between them often drew large crowds, but Arthur had ordered the training grounds cleared this morning, meaning that the four other knights, the Lord, and a much tenser-looking Merlin, is all their audience consisted of.

Finally, the fight came to an end, Arthur victorious as he knocks Leon to the floor. They shake hands, and Leon has to hide the swell of pride in him at the man he had trained for managing to beat him, before they make their way over to Lord Severin, closely followed by the others.

The Lord claps his hands, a wide smile on his face, and Arthur stops himself from looking at Merlin when he sees the man flinch slightly at the noise.

“Very impressive, My Lord. Your knights truly are something to behold!”

Arthur gives him a strained smile:

“Yes, I take a lot of pride in the strength of my best.”

Severin’s eyes widen, and his grin once again turns sharp. Arthur has a feeling he isn’t going to like what the man says next:

“Well, if we’re talking about the best, might I suggest that your... ah, manservant, shows off his skills? I imagine we would all find that mighty entertaining, especially considering you were previously unaware of his abilities?”

Arthur clenches his jaw, glancing at Merlin. The King was taken aback when Merlin held his gaze for the first time since before the Lord had arrived yesterday. 

Arthur answers, without looking away from Merlin, and regrets his words the moment they exit his mouth:

“I’m alright with it, but only if Merlin agrees.”

Merlin widens his eyes, only slightly, but it’s enough to show Arthur that that was the wrong thing to say. Whatever the history between Severin and Merlin was, the manservant was unable to say no to him. Arthur hadn’t given Merlin a choice, he’d allowed Severin to dictate Merlin’s answer.

The Lord claps his hands again, wolfish smile growing as he loudly proclaims:

“Brilliant! I will divert to your judgement, on who his opponent should be, My Lord.”

Merlin clenches his jaw, turning and walking towards the spare swords. He grabs one from the rack, and enters the ring, standing stiffly, waiting.

Arthur frowns at Merlin’s sudden, easy capability, before nodding at Lancelot. He was reluctant (NOT jealous) to admit it, but he and Merlin were very close, if anyone could pretend to fight Merlin convincingly without actually hurting him, it would be Lancelot.

Lancelot returns his nod, understanding his King’s thought process, before looking to Merlin with a concerned frown on his face:

“Do you not want any armour, Merlin?”

The Lord laughs as Merlin mutely shakes his head, answering for him:

“Oh, he won’t need it sir knight, like I keep saying, he’s quite skilled.”

Lancelot still looks reluctant, but at Arthur’s stiff nod and the questioning tilt of Merlin’s head, he walks into the ring and stands opposite his best friend.

He gives Merlin a nod, and hides his worry when Merlin just stares at him blankly, his stance turning loose, but sword held tightly in his hand.

Arthur signals for them to start, and Lancelot immediately has to take a rushed step back as Merlin moves quickly forward, swinging his sword up.

Lancelot just about manages to block the strike, but the strength of the hit has the bones in his arms vibrating, and his shock gives Merlin just enough time to twist his body, taking another swing before Lancelot even processes what’s happening.

The second wide arc of Merlin’s sword knocks the knight’s arm to the side violently, and he stumbles back, only just managing to keep hold of the blade. Merlin takes advantage of Lance’s newly exposed chest, and using the last of his momentum, brings a leg up and lands a harsh kick to the centre of his chest-plate.

The force throws him back and he lands sprawled on the floor several feet away.

The others knights gasp as the Lord jovially laughs and Lancelot stares at the sky in shock. All in all, that spar had lasted about five seconds, and consisted of Merlin swinging his sword only twice, and kicking him so hard he dented his armour.

Lancelot hadn’t even had time to think before it was over, and was still wide-eyed when Merlin wordlessly pulled him to his feet, frowning as he runs a hand over the damaged metal.

The other knights are still staring in shock as Lancelot lifts a hand to put it on Merlin’s shoulder. When the servant flinches backwards, he lowers his hand again, but still whispers:

“Gods, Merlin. Where the hell did you learn to fight like that?”

Merlin’s frown deepens and he clenches his jaw as he glances at the amused Lord, before stepping back, out of Lance’s reach.

Before anyone can say anything, Severin loudly exclaims:

“That’s my boy! I knew I could count on you to have not forgotten your training. How about you?”

He gestures to Elyan, and the knight looks to Arthur for confirmation. Merlin stays in the ring, waiting, back to being expressionless. He hadn’t even broken a sweat during his fight with Lancelot, didn’t even look out of breath, and Arthur’s morbid curiosity gets the better of him as he nods at Elyan.

The knight stepped into the ring, taking Lancelot’s place opposite Merlin.

Arthur gives the signal to start, and Elyan is the first one to strike this time, but Merlin moves easily out of the way, with speed and grace that no one had ever seen him express before.

Honestly, Arthur thinks the first fight might have been a fluke, because this time, Merlin spends the first twenty-five seconds blocking and dodging, making no offensive moves, and staying well out of Elyan’s way.

But Merlin makes the swap quicker than anyone can see, going from defence to offense in the blink of an eye, and within seconds of the change, Elyan is on the floor, Merlin’s sword at his throat, and his own sword lost somewhere to the side.

Merlin had moved so quickly, Elyan hadn’t really any clue how he’d ended up on the floor as he blinks up at the previously thought-to-be clumsy manservant.

After a moment, the knights once again shocked and the Lord once again cheerfully laughing, Merlin leans down and pulls the knight to his feet.

Elyan nods his thanks dumbly before picking up his sword, and heading over to the side lines, still looking confused as his brain tried to catch up with the last thirty seconds.

Merlin had, once again, not even broken a sweat, and Arthur gulps as he looks at his manservant. On the surface, he seemed... absent. Like he wasn’t really aware of what was going on, and was just waiting for it to be over. But upon closer inspection, Arthur could tell that wasn’t true.

Merlin’s stance may have been loose, but the position of his feet and the grip on his sword showed that he was fully prepared to jump into a fight without hesitation. That, the clench of his jaw, and the focus in his eyes as he stared back at Arthur, told The King that Merlin was fully aware of his surroundings.

Severin’s laugh petered out, and he points a finger at Gwaine, looking at Arthur as he questioned:

“My Lord?”

Arthur nods, and Gwaine huffs angrily. He gives The King an incredulous look but, perhaps a little selfishly, Arthur was curious about the extent of Merlin’s... abilities, so he ignores it, and Gwaine reluctantly walks to stand in front of his friend.

Merlin’s gaze drifts from Arthur to Gwaine, and he tilts his head slightly, adjusting his stance, his expression remaining in the same blank position it had been through all of the matches.

Once again, Arthur finds himself signalling the start of a fight between his best-friend (slash love of his life but like... shhh) and one of his most trusted knights.

Neither of them make a move at first, they just circle each other slowly, Gwaine’s sword raised, but Merlin’s pointed to the floor as he makes a point of keeping his stance fluid.

The Lord claps his hands together, just once, but the loud noise triggers an immediate reaction in Merlin and he pounces forward.

Gwaine takes the defensive as Merlin throws hit after hit, each one precise and specific. Gwaine is stronger than Merlin, but Merlin knows this, striking quickly and needling holes in Gwaine’s defence, moving back before he has time to launch a counter attack.

This fight goes on a lot longer than the last two, but Gwaine quickly begins to tire. At the first stumble in the knight’s step, Merlin takes a pace back, and presents his opponent with a miniscule opening.

Apparently it had been deliberate; the moment Gwaine follows him to take a swing at the gap, Merlin feints to the side, and lands a single blow that knocks Gwaine to the floor.

He chuckles darkly as his chest makes contact with the grass, realising immediately what his mistake had been. He rolls to his feet, holding his sword-less hands up in surrender. The man is breathing deeply, and even Merlin looks slightly more tired than he had before, but only slightly.

Leon lets out a deep breath, and all the knights seem to realise simultaneously that... at no point had Merlin not been in full control of each fight, setting the pace exactly how he wanted it, and taking advantage of each of their weaknesses perfectly.

Lancelot was reluctant to fight Merlin, so Merlin threw a few quick hits and had him on the floor before the knight realised he didn’t have to hold back.

Elyan had seen Merlin’s speed against Lance, and had therefore rushed to try and surprise him. Merlin took the defensive, biding his time until Elyan eventually made a mistake, and struck so quickly and harshly, he only needed one move to take him out.

With Gwaine he’d done the opposite. The man was much stronger than Merlin, so he couldn’t let him get a hit in, only allowing the knight time to defend and not attack. He waited for Gwaine to get tired and distracted, waited until he was moving automatically before presenting a tiny weakness that another knight might have missed. Gwaine fell for it hook, line, and sinker.

Gwaine resists the urge to clap Merlin on the back, proud smile quickly dropping to a frown when he sees the still blank look on his face.

The Lord doesn’t even have to request another fight before Arthur nods at Percival.

Percival looks a little less reluctant, everyone now clearly knowing that Merlin could more than hold his own; if anything, he looks a little nervous for himself, despite being six inches taller and much heavier.

This fight is a lot more quick-paced. At Arthur’s gesture, they both immediately jump into it, fighting for dominance with speed and strength. Once again, Merlin’s opponent is much stronger than he is, and Merlin tires more this round.

Percival lands a heavy to kick to Merlin’s chest, and he goes sprawling backwards, but he keeps a hold of his sword and uses the momentum to gracefully roll back onto his feet.

Before Percival has time to raise his sword again, Merlin takes advantage of the new distance between them and sprints towards him. He drops quickly, sliding between Percival’s legs, sword held close to his body as he reaches an arm out, grabbing the giant’s ankle on the way through.

His sudden grip forces Percival to take a step forward to correct his balance, but before he can turn around, Merlin quickly stands and shoves his whole body weight against his back.

The force of the shove paired with the instinctual step forward tips Percival’s centre of gravity, and he topples to the floor, rolling over to see Merlin already stood above him, panting, his sword aimed at Percival’s throat.

The other knights gasp slightly as Merlin steps away at Percival’s raised hands. They had been certain that Percival, with his size, would be the one to beat Merlin.

Apparently not.

Lord Severin is once again laughing, and Arthur (and the others) are becoming more and more confused. Merlin had beaten four of Camelot’s best in a row in about ten minutes, and was only slightly out of breath.

This was not just a bit of combat training, this was... more. This was harsh, ingrained, years upon years of practice.

Arthur and Leon remember when Merlin first arrived in Camelot, only sixteen, and dread grows in their stomachs as they realise the implications.

They’re quickly broken out of their stupors as Percival walks slowly over, still catching his breath, and The Lord loudly bellows:

“Well, that’s four out of six. We might as well go for the whole collection, what do you think, My Lord?”

Arthur takes a deep breath, he has to remember that there is politics involved here as well; he can hardly accuse the Lord of anything. But the arsehole was also clearly aware that this had been a power move on Arthur’s part, and it had completely backfired. Backing out now would... not look good.

The King gives another strained smile, gesturing Leon forward after glancing at a still blank Merlin. The manservant had already caught his breath. Damn.

Leon moves into the ring and settles into position in front of Merlin.

The dark haired servant furrows his brow, tilting his head the same way he had at Gwaine, as if he were assessing his opponent. After just a moment, he schools his face, and adjusts his feet slightly, his stance seeming a little stiffer than it had been previously.

If the others thought the last four fights were brutal... well... this was a whole new level. Camelot’s First Knight held nothing back, now confident in Merlin’s abilities (and his own, to stop at a moment’s notice if it looked like Merlin was about to get hurt), despite the fact that the man still wasn’t wearing any armour.

This match lasts a while, both of them swapping between defence and offence, the tide changing with almost every step. 

Both of them are tiring, Leon was still recovering from his spar with Arthur, and Merlin hadn’t exactly had much time to refresh between his other fights, even though he won them fairly easily.

But eventually, the match ended with a loud clang ringing out as Merlin’s sword flies from his grip.

At least... they thought it had ended, for about a split second, before they realise that Merlin looks completely unfazed.

Arthur glances to the Lord briefly, to see the man grinning with a mix of possessive pride and cruel hunger, before looking back at the ring, and widening his eyes in shock.

Merlin had quickly shaken out his hands, forming fists before darting in closer to Leon. The fact that Leon still has a strong grip on his sword doesn’t seem to bother Merlin at all, and he dodges the blade as he lands three quick hits to various weaknesses in the armour.

Leon takes a stumbled step back, surprised at the quick change in direction that the fight had gone, and that step is just enough to give Merlin space to swing a harsh elbow out to the side. The connection between his elbow, and Leon’s wrist, is sharp enough that the knight drops his sword automatically, and Merlin quickly turns his back on him, moving in close as he grabs his arm and throws him forward, over his shoulder.

Leon lands harshly on his back, winded slightly, and Merlin rolls to the side, coming up with the knight’s sword in his grip. He quickly spins around, and Leon finally catches a breath just to open his eyes and see Merlin stood above him, sword at his throat.

Leon stares up, completely shocked, hearing Gwaine mumble-

“Merlin just won a sword fight... without a fucking sword.”

-and Lancelot mutter:

“He beat Leon?”

The Lord is once again laughing, and the sound is beginning to grate on everyone’s sanity (everyone bar Merlin, who still looks blank and absent) as Merlin pulls Leon to his feet, wincing apologetically as the knight rubs his own back.

Leon puts on a strained, but fond smile, as Merlin hands him his sword, and mutters:

“Well done, Merlin, very impressive.”

Which had apparently been the wrong thing to say; Merlin flinches back, drops his expression once again into blankness, and steps away to pick up his own sword.

Leon frowns, walking towards the other knights and the Lord as Merlin deposits his sword back in the rack. His movements have lost the cat-like fluidity he had when fighting, and he’s back to being stiff and tense, eyes averted to the floor, jaw tightly clenched.

The knights look on in worry, still confused, but having mostly gotten over the novelty of Merlin being able to fight, and focussing more on how the hell he’d kept it a secret for so long. On top of trying to figure out how he’d learnt in the first place.

Lord Severin frowns sarcastically, tilting his head at Merlin as if he were a child, and saying:

“Aren’t you going to spar with your King, Merlin? I thought we were going for six out of six?”

Arthur frowns at him, looking between the Lord, who looks like a vicious beast hunting his prey, and Merlin, who’s looking a lot like that prey.

Merlin takes a deep, shaking breath at his questions, raising his head to meet the Lord’s gaze for the very first time. Arthur can see the fear in his eyes, and takes a subtle step towards him, to stand between Merlin and his hunter. Merlin glances at him quickly, almost fearfully, and gulps as he looks back at Severin, stuttering out:

“I... I won’t fight Arthur. Not for you, I... I don’t fight people for you anymore.”

The Lord tilts his head and smirks:

“My, how you’ve grown up. You never would have spoken to me like that as a child-”

Arthur can hear the other knights gasp, and is grateful when Leon holds Gwaine back as the man takes an aggressive step towards the Lord.

“-though I doubt King Arthur is as strict of a master as I was.”

Arthur’s frown deepens, but before he can say anything, Merlin snarls out:

“Arthur is nothing like you.”

His sudden change in demeanour takes Severin by surprise, but only for a second; his look of shock falling back into a condescending smirk once more:

“Hmm. Probably why you’ve gone so soft. Honestly Merlin, you were once the best, now you refuse to make your opponents bleed. Oh, how far you’ve fallen.”

Arthur has heard enough, and he steps in front of the Lord, between him and Merlin, and without breaking gazes with the vile man in front of him, loudly says:

“You’re dismissed for the afternoon, Merlin. Go grab some lunch, we’ll see you later.”

Arthur still doesn’t look back as he hears Merlin walk quickly towards the castle. The Lord gives Arthur an assessing gaze, smirk remaining on his face, before saying:

“It would seem that you’re quite... protective, of your staff, Your Majesty?”

Arthur gives him an incredibly strained smile, not even aware of how tightly he was gripping the hilt of the sword at his hip as he replies in a low voice:

“Hmm. Something like that. Well, we’ve solved our border issue, and you’ve seen my knights in action, so unless there’s anything else?”

Severin tilts his head, and raises an amused eyebrow, clearly understanding Arthur’s meaning:

“No, that’s all. Your city is wonderful, however I’ll be leaving very shortly I’m afraid, within the next few hours. I have men to reassure.”

With that, the Lord bows deeply, and stalks back towards the castle, thankfully taking a different route than Merlin. Normally Arthur would call him out on the rudeness and impropriety of turning one’s back on a King, and leaving without being dismissed, but at this point, Arthur just wants him gone.

The moment he disappears round a corner, the group lets out a collective sigh, all of them looking troubled. Elyan is the first to speak:

“I’ve travelled through Essetir, I’ve heard the rumours. Do you think that Merlin...?”

His question trails off, but it’s obvious what he was asking. Leon answers once he realises that Arthur isn’t going to say anything:

“He was sixteen when he came to Camelot. To have that sort of extensive, ingrained training... he would have to have been.”

All of them let out harsh breaths and Gwaine curses viciously under his breath, before grinding out:

“Permission to follow Severin back to Essetir and slaughter him somewhere in the woods, sire?”

All of them look expectantly at Arthur, but he still stares in the direction Merlin had walked as he sighs, and replies quietly:

“No. His men know he came here about some sort of issue. If he never makes it back, it doesn’t matter how well you set the scene, it’ll start a war-.”

Gwaine grumbles something about stupid rules under his breath, but relents. He definitely perks up slightly at Arthur’s next words:

“-However. If we ever come across him during any sort of conflict, feel free to use more force than technically necessary. For now... we need to find Merlin.-”

The others nod vigorously, and gather closer as Arthur continues, finally looking at them:

“-Leon, Elyan, go and find Gwen and Gaius, at this time they should be running medications around to the knights’ barracks, then meet back in the courtyard. We can’t split up to find Merlin, because we’d have no way to tell each other if someone found him, and I don’t want to risk leaving him alone because he might disappear again. We’ll have to search together, hopefully Gaius will have some sort of idea, because Gods know he won’t have gone to have lunch like I told him.”

Everyone murmurs their agreement, and without another word, they all head back up to the castle.

~

Leon and Elyan had found Gaius and Gwen exactly where Arthur said they would, and all eight of them are soon gathered in the courtyard.

The knights quickly explained what had happened. Gaius looked unsurprised, though increasingly worried with every word, and it was only the Physician’s genuine panic, and the dent in Lancelot’s armour that convinced Gwen this wasn’t some big prank.

Arthur looked at Gaius expectantly, and the older man thought for a moment. He sighed, before saying:

“When he first arrived in Camelot, Merlin had... a great many nightmares. The first time, I found him under his bed. The second and third times I found him curled up, hidden away in a cupboard that he had emptied out. After that, I reorganised so the cupboard was permanently empty. He hasn’t used it in years, but I never got round to refilling it. If... if I had to take a guess at where he is, I’d say there.”

Everyone nods and the group begins to make their way to the Physician’s chambers.

On the way, Gwaine expressed confusion at Merlin’s apparent love of tight spaces, but Leon quickly piped up:

“It’s a fairly common response to trauma, I’ve seen it in the occasional knight after particularly bloody battles. Some people become terrified of tight spaces-”

Gaius interrupted, informing the group that it was called “claustrophobia”.

“-but some people find it comforting. I guess Merlin likes feeling protected on all sides?”

The physician nodded grimly, and quietly informs the group that it might be best for only one or two people to approach Merlin, and for everyone else to stay back, so as to not overwhelm him. The knights reluctantly agreed, Percival announcing that Gaius and Lancelot were the obvious choices.

Lancelot protested:

“No, you should’ve seen his face when he saw the dent in my armour, it’ll just freak him out even more. Arthur should go, he’s the only one Merlin didn’t beat to a pulp.”

Gaius agreed, and Arthur nodded as well, though reluctantly.

They quickly found themselves outside the Physician’s chambers, the door left open slightly. With one last worried look to each other, Arthur pushes the door wider, and steps through, quietly calling Merlin’s name.

Gaius goes to point the cupboard out, but two quiet knocks from inside alert everyone to it first.

The knights and Gwen gather dutifully to one side of the room, still in sight of the cupboard should Merlin open the door, but far enough away so as to not crowd him.

Arthur sits himself down in front of the cupboard, and Gaius perches on a bench a few feet behind him.

The King whispers Merlin’s name again, and knocks gently on the wood. After a few seconds, the door opens, and Merlin slips out, sitting cross-legged on the floor, his knees just about brushing against Arthur’s.

He is once again blank-faced, and everyone’s eyes are drawn to his dagger being twirled and twisted skilfully between his fingers.

His eyes are focussed on the blade, and Arthur resists the urge to reach out and touch him, knowing that he was already on thin ice, being this close to him. He talks gently, his voice quiet, though still loud enough for the others to hear him:

“He’ll be gone by evening, and he won’t ever be coming back.”

Merlin nods, only slightly, but it’s enough to let Arthur know that he’s at least aware of his surroundings. The servant gulps before whispering:

“Don’t let him take me, please.”

Arthur bites his lip to stop himself from gasping, and slowly, ever so slowly, moves a hand to rest on Merlin’s knee. When Merlin doesn’t flinch away, Arthur squeezes his leg slightly before moving his hand away:

“Never. None of us would ever let him take you away, Merlin. You never have to see him again; you’re safe here, we’ll make sure of it.”

Merlin nods again, and Gaius hands him a goblet of water. He takes only a small sip before setting it aside, but it’s a good start; the Physician figured that Merlin almost certainly hadn’t eaten, slept, or drank enough in the last twenty-four hours.

After a minute or so of silence, Merlin replaces the dagger in its holster, and clasps his hands tightly in his lap, staring at his intertwined fingers.

He clears his throat slightly, and the gang wasn’t sure whether to be grateful or more worried, that he looked sad as opposed to blank, as he quietly speaks, still staring into his lap:

“Essetir has always been a fan of... of child soldiers. We thought we were safe in Ealdor because we were so far from the capital, but they came when I was seven. If I fought back or tried to escape, they threatened to burn the village down, so I just... did what I was told. The lessons were... we were trained against each other, except every match was to the death. Hundreds of children... killing other children, until only the best remained. Gods there was always so much blood.-”

Everyone bar Gaius had to make a concerted effort to hold in their tears and gasps of rage. Arthur took a deep breath and put his hand on the floor next to Merlin, not touching him, but an obvious offer of comfort if Merlin wanted to take it. Gwen grips her brother’s hand tightly, and Leon has to stop Gwaine from drawing blood from his palms with his own nails.

Merlin takes a deep, shaking breath, and puts his hand on the floor next to Arthur’s; not taking it, but just about brushing thumbs:

“-Children were... we were tactically useful. We were dressed in civilian clothing so we could slip in and out of places, killing people and stealing things and setting traps and fires, without being noticed. And if we were noticed, people would hesitate. They would hesitate just long enough for us to... to kill them.-”

Tears were falling freely from at least half the room’s occupants now, everyone else not far off.

Merlin moves his hand further towards Arthur’s, and he takes it without hesitation, running his thumb over Merlin’s knuckles softly.

The servant lifts his gaze falteringly, and Arthur gives him a weak smile, and nods as he prepares to continue:

“-I was good. I mean I was really good. I was given all the most difficult jobs; I had a higher body-count before I hit twelve summers than you do now. All the army generals, and the particularly rich Lords, and even... even Cenred when I got older, took an interest in me. They thought I was the best thing since the start of civilisation, because I was small and weak-looking, and I had a sad face and big blue eyes. My... targets, never wanted to defend themselves against me. They... they all died for their hesitation.-”

Tears overflow from Merlin and Arthur’s eyes at the same time, and The King can hear Gwen’s quiet crying behind him. He knew without a doubt that the knights would be crying too, he didn’t even need to look. All of them normally had such strong stomachs for violence but this... this was so much worse, and it was Merlin.

Merlin gulps, and his grip on Arthur’s hand tightens:

“-I escaped when I was fourteen. I don’t know why it took me that long, I guess I was just... lost. Lost in the orders and the missions and all the... all the death and blood. I was sent to burn a few buildings down and I just... set the flame and ran. There was nothing but ash left at the end and no one could find me so it was assumed I had gotten trapped inside and died. I wondered around in the wilderness for a while. I was pretty self sufficient by then but I didn’t want to go home, in case they went looking for me there. To be honest... I barely remembered where my home was,-”

His voice drops to almost a whisper, and the others have to strain to hear him:

“-I... I couldn’t even remember what my mum looked like.-”

His voice rose again as he glanced quickly at Gaius, and at the older man’s reassuring, though mournful, smile, he looked back at Arthur:

“-But I found my way home after about ten months. I figured out pretty quickly who my mum was, she barely let me go for weeks.-”

At this, Merlin thankfully lets out a weak chuckle, but the tears still fall, and he squeezes Arthur’s hand once more.

His faces falls back into despair as he continues, and everyone knows that there’s still bad to come:

“-It was... difficult. I didn’t trust anyone, I didn’t know how village life worked, how normal human interaction worked. I knew how to speak and read and write but... I had barely said a word in eight years so I stayed pretty much silent. It was... odd, to be allowed to speak freely, move freely. It was... terrifying. More so than what I had before, in some ways, because... I had nothing. There was nothing to me. Could you imagine how hard it was? To be fifteen and to have no personality? No likes or dislikes... no understanding of how the world outside of war works? Understanding nothing but how to be a good soldier?-”

Arthur shakes his head, lifting his other hand to rest gently on Merlin’s knee, and only dropping it there when the tearful man nodded slightly.

The crying from behind The King had slowed, but not stopped, and Merlin continued:

“-I suddenly had to find out who I was as a person, minus all the blood and death and missions. I had to figure out what was... socially acceptable. What to smile at and what to frown at. I was... a completely blank slate. I was barely even a person. Just killer’s hands with a body attached.-”

At that, Arthur gently took Merlin’s other hand as well, and made a point of stroking them softly.

“-Just after I turned sixteen, I was sent to Camelot. I’d just about figured out the basics of interacting with people, I could fake it pretty well at least, but being in Ealdor... I couldn’t relax. I just expected them to come for me again, that any day an Essetirian patrol would show up and drag me back and burn the village down. Officially, I was sent here to learn to be a Physician, to learn to heal instead of kill. Unofficially... no one said it, but everyone knew, I was sent away because I wasn’t coping. I needed a change of scenery, being in Ealdor was making things worse, and with Gaius here, I would at least have a little support.”

Arthur gives him a smile, but before he can say anything, Percival takes just a small step forward. He speaks in such a soft tone; strangers would think a man of his stature incapable of expressing:

“And now you have all of us, Merlin. No matter what.”

The others nod, and even Gwen wipes away her tears to give him the widest smile she’s currently capable of. Merlin looks at her and frowns slightly, tilting his head as if confused.

After a moment’s hesitation, Merlin gives her a weak smile in return. When he looks over to Gaius, the Physician nods approvingly, and his smile widens, just slightly.

With that, the whole group seems to come to the same conclusion, at the same time: that Merlin had essentially just asked if smiling was the right thing to do.

Gwen was crying, and clearly upset, and Merlin understood that. But then she smiled. He’s been away from his... military roots for long enough now that he knew the right response, genuinely felt the right response, but with everything being uprooted and old wounds being exposed, he needed the reassurance that his reaction had been socially correct.

Arthur clenches his jaw tightly, thinking back on the ten years worth of interactions he’d had with Merlin. How he’d always kept his cards close to his chest; was rarely outwardly angry, and got happy over the simplest things: flowers and books and fluffy animals. 

He thinks about how terrifying it must have been. To have to learn to be... well... human. To have to learn how to perfectly imitate human behaviour until he developed his behaviour.

Merlin takes another sip of his water before taking a deep breath. He looks to Gaius, determination in his face, and at the Physician’s hesitant smile, but firm nod, Merlin takes a deep breath and looks back to Arthur:

“There’s more.”

Arthur frowns, and tilts his head. What else could there possibly be? He hears one of the others take in a sharp breath, and out of the corner of his eye he sees Gaius look to the offending knight, and give another firm nod.

Arthur gulps, and nods at Merlin, encouraging the man to continue:

“I had to do all of that whilst... whilst hiding the magic I was born with,-”

A chorus of gasps go up around the room, and Arthur tenses slightly, sitting up straight, but not letting go of Merlin’s hand. The King sees the fear in Merlin’s eyes, and the way the goblet shakes in his hand, and gives him an uncertain smile. Arthur isn’t as surprised as he thinks he should be.

“-because if they found out, things would get worse. Cenred had enslaved sorcerers as well as children in his army. If he’d found out how... how powerful I was, even as a child, I never would’ve escaped.”

Arthur nods his head absent-mindedly, once again thinking on his ten years of friendship with Merlin. It... made sense. 

Gods how terrifying.... 

To have all of that happen as a child, to finally find your way home just to find that you aren’t safe there either. And THEN to be sent to Camelot of all places. How terrifying, to have the safest place for you to be, be the city where the violent persecution of your people originated.

Arthur clenched his jaw before looking back at Merlin. He still looks scared, and Arthur squeezes his hand, firmly saying:

“I swear to you Merlin, in the name of Camelot, that you will never have to be afraid again.”

Merlin’s eyes widen, and tears begin to fall again as he tilts his head. Arthur gives him a smile:

“Come on, Merls. How could I possibly believe magic to be evil when you were born with it? There’s not an evil bone in your body.”

Merlin’s face falls, and he looks as though he’s going to argue, but Arthur beats him to it, speaking before he can even open his mouth:

“And we all know it.”

Merlin looks up again, speechless and teary, as Leon steps forward:

“The laws will change, Merlin, and you’ll be safe and free. And if the council have a problem with that... well...-”

Leon looks back at the other knights, all looking as determined as he is. He grins, and wipes the remaining tears from his eyes as he looks back to the bewildered servant, grinning Physician, and fondly smiling King:

“-I’m sure we can persuade them.”

Merlin returns his grin, and Arthur is more than relieved to see that Merlin doesn’t have to double-check his reaction this time.

~

THE END!!

Wowie that was a ride. I honestly wasn’t even planning on writing a magic reveal in this but it just sorta... happened... oops

Same as always lads, you wanna write it all proper? Go for it, credit and tag me :)

[impala1967dwinchester]

Dean Winchester: Balcony

Pairing: AU!Soccer Player!Dean Winchester x Fem!Reader

Pov: Dean

Warnings: Sweat Kink, Kissing, Smut, 18+, nicknames, Female receiving, Hotel room vibes.

Summary: This takes us back to where part 1 left off. Y/n is begging for Dean to continue, but he’s a gentleman. Waiting to devour her at his hotel.

Word count:

A/n-All dividers are credited to @firefly-graphics. This is part two for VIP Room

Main Master List // Dean Master List // 500 Follower Master List

Recap

Her lipstick is smeared against her lips, and this hasn’t even gotten hot and heavy yet. “YES, I do Daddy.” She screams and she grinds against my lap. “Ah and she’s got a daddy kink! Do I have to handle you like a good little girl, or are you a bad little girl?” She revolving in the feeling and the words that I’m saying. “I’ll be anything you want daddy, please daddy.” She pleads, even her pleads are hot and yet sweet. “Anything, baby?” I question. I tug a little at her hair. She moans under the motion. “An..Anything daddy.” She screams again.

She heaved as came down from her glistening high. Something about seeing women get high from their climaxes I think was the best thing. It's better than any porn I'd watched as a teenage boy.

Nothing was better than being the reason they could barely walk. But there was something about this girl. Y/n had this pulling factor to her, one that if I'm being honest scared the hell out of me. Her eyes fluttered open. I could feel her heart still racing against my chest.

Another odd factor of her, her weight now didn't bother me like so many others had before her. Yeah, I'm calling myself out, I'm what most of the frat girls would call 'A manwhore', 'Fuckboy'.. the list goes on and on.

Watching her come off her high and back into reality was something I think I could do over and over again. I might have just met this woman, but something told me that she was the best catch I'd ever find. Beating me to punch lines and that innocent look with dark and almost sadistic undertones to her.

We sat like her head resting against mine, and her arms still wrapped around my neck. I rubbed circles into her lower back to the rhythm of an old song. I wasn't planning on letting go of this one that easily. Something in me clicked, like when I got out onto the field.

Soon enough when she felt up to it. She lifted herself off of me. Her knees were wobbly for the first few steps, but eventually, she regained her balance. She reached down, grabbing her belongings, and what looked like was heading for the door.

"Thank you for a well, wonderful night, Dean. I must be going now, I fear I have overstayed my visit." She said gracefully. Like she had visited an old country state, and she was leaving now. My head fluttered into overdrive, 'think of something, Dean'.

"Y/n you must come to join me for a late dinner then." An offer was all I could think of. An offer for more time, maybe if I offered that she wouldn't feel.. well however she's feeling. She looked around the box, and her gaze finally landed on me. "I'll take you up on that offer, Dean." She said.

That was what I needed from her. I jumped up nearly forgetting that balance was a thing and so was gravity. Stumbling like Y/n had done just a few moments ago. As I looked around I noticed that time, nearly half past 8. Praying that the diner close by would be sufficient enough.

Reaching out my hand. Her hand clasping into mine. "So where does the great Dean Winchester have us going?" She asked her finger lacing between mine. We turned a corner, and down an elevator before I answered her question.

Landing in a private section of the garage parking. I walked her towards my car. Finally answering her question. "You may think a little less of me, but a little quiet diner that a few minutes away," I said.

The creases near her eyes beamed as she slipped into my car. When I jumped into the driver's seat Y/n was sitting her ankles crossed and hands interlocked on her thighs.

"You know for a rich smuck like the famous soccer player Dean Winchester, you act like every girl's dream." She said. I laughed, a smuck, I hadn't been called a smuck before. Then again I normally don't bring something like this any further than the door in the box office.

When we arrived at the diner, it was quiet. Colder outside than before and Y/n smiled as her fingers didn't interlock with mine, but just gracefully grazed over mine. It was a teasing manner, but from what I was gathering even just from our short time together that's all Y/n was about.

Sitting down at a booth, farther away from the hustle and bustle of people. I gazed at her face, her cheeks rosy and her once deep shade of red lipstick slightly a mess on her lips. Honestly, for the first time, I was taking a decent look at her. Not her body, but her features.

"You know you stare." She said rather boldly. A stray thought passed my mind 'Maybe she truly would be better with something in her mouth.' "Do I now?" There was absolutely a cocky tone to my rhetorical question.

We order and ate. I watched hunger for something else. Her movements kept me intrigued. Her constant side-to-side glance as if someone were to come up to her. She looked like the beautiful movie stars from the '50s and '60s. A grace that sort of just fell around her.

Graceful yet human, and a twang of submissive naughtiness behind her eyes. Her foot slipped up and down my inner leg. Her face was straight as an arrow. Nothing showed on her face that she was just a huge cock tease.

"If you're going to act like that maybe we should cut dinner short, and I'll take you back to my hotel. Show you what happens to girls who tease." I said in a hushed voice. Barely audible, but Y/n stopped her mouth gaping open.

"Maybe I should take you up on that empty threat." Y/nsaid finally taking her bite. Quickly I was up from my side of the booth and I was over on Y/n's side.

"Or maybe we don't even have to leave this booth," I said letting my hand travel down her shoulder and down to her thigh. Her legs fell open, but if she was going to be a cock tease, then so was I.

I just let my hand rest on her thigh, ever so slightly squeezing it when I felt like it. When she was done with her meal. We sat for a moment. The warmth coming from her cunt was so delicious that hell I should have just fallen into my desire and taken her right there.

But for her, and her enjoyment I'd wait. Wait until it was just her and I in a hotel room. The car ride to my hotel wasn't one of awkwardness, but of teasing looks, and touches. Her hand rested on my thigh and tapped to the beat of the song that was playing on the radio.

Something was different about this one. Something was intoxicating about Y/n.

Her perfume could faintly be smelled in my car now. When we got to my hotel, I opened her door. Leading her into the building and trying to evade the paparazzi. As we walked towards the elevator doors, Y/n commented on the paparazzi.

"You know all of this running away from the press, and cameras do have my body on high alert." She said, I sighed. Realizing just how difficult it was to be anyone in public life and have your own private life.

"I know, I'm truly sorry about them," I said. My eyes cast down as we walked into the elevator. Her hands came up to my chest. I look up at her, that similar glint in her eyes was there. It was hot, the thought had passed my mind once or twice about fucking someone in an elevator.

Never had it actually come to pass.

"I can feel your heart racing, Dean. Are you excited like me?" Y/n asked getting closer to me by the second. I took the chance, because who frankly cared about the doors opening and getting caught kissing a beautiful woman.

Leaning forward, I took my chance. Our lips made contact for the first time since our little session at the stadium. I pushed her against the nearest wall. Her hands rose and wrapped around my neck, pulling me even closer. Our lips molded together, the little gasps that feel between us.

Everything was perfect at that moment until the doors dinged and yet again I was brought to reality. I released her from the wall and grabbed her hand. Pulling her out of the elevator, the adrenaline pumped through me, and I had my card key out before she could catch her breath. Not that she'd be catching her breathe anytime soon.

As I opened the door, Y/n launched towards me. Her lips landed on mine, and her hands played with the belt buckle on my jeans. My back hit the wall and she finally got her hand to undo my belt. It flung across the room, hitting the floor with a bang, and then the sound of my zipper fell into my ears.

Her hands had snuck into my jeans, as we kissed. Our lips conjoined, breathless moans, and our tounges fought for dominance. I let one of my hands slide up her side, grabbing at the fabric covering my breasts.

She edged into the touch, wanting more. I moved us around. Walking us towards the beds' edges. Her shirt wasn't necessary for the part of our nights' endeavors. I slipped it over her shoulder, our lips only breaking long enough for me to take off her shirt. Her bra was black and it stared at me, I unclipped it. Throwing that piece of useless fabric just as Y/n had done to my belt.

Think about it I grabbed at the bottom of my own shirt and tore it over my shoulders. Chucking that towards a direction, and returning to Y/ns lips. Her hands trailed up my body.

Cold at first, but warmed to my body, her hands eventually getting bored and finally doing with my jeans. The feeling of being exposed was what I was worried about, but the pressing feeling of my bludge not being so compressed was a relief.

Her hand pressing and playing with my cock from over the fabric of my boxers. Her lip nipping at my lips, moaning and almost complaining that all we were doing was this frantic touching of each other. My hand surrounding her breasts, and massaging them, until her nipples budded. I moved back, her pleading eyes asking for more. So I had to give her more.

I moved down her body, nipping and kisses the sensitive skin on her neck, leaving dark purple blotches in my wake. Finally my tongue made contact with her budding nipple. Her back arched into the feeling, wanting more.

More of whatever I could give her. Her hand that was originally on my cock had moved towards the back of my hand, forcing my mouth further on to her nipple. Nothing was sexier than a women knowing what she wanted during this dangerous game of sex. She began to moan, muttering that 'it felt so good', but because I'm a good gentleman there was no way I was skipping out on her other breasts. Repeating the process, getting more whines and needy breaths out of Y/n.

I trialed down her body towards her cunt. The feeling in her cunt I could feel on my knee, I unbuttoned her jeans and slide them down her legs, her panties going with them. On to the floor they went, and on my knees I went. I pushed her legs open, sticking my head between her huge thighs.

Nothing better then being just inches away from the sweetest tasting dessert. I let my desires take over, and my tongue came in contact with her lips. Sweetness was all I tasted, her hands coming down her fingers combing through my hair, and forcing my head and lip closer to her wet cunt. Her back arched, and she screamed that she was close. Close to an edge I wasn't just ready to give her yet.

I pulled away, the look was dangerous that I received from Y/n. Like I had just told her that I was leaving her and taking the dog to in the marriage. A look of utter defeat for an understanding of which she didn't get. I got ride of my boxers then quicker she could get comfortable on the bed. Her head barely hitting the pillow, before I had her legs up, and was thrusting into her cunt. Y/n's juices still dribbled on my chin.

But she didn't care her lips joined my mine, as I sink into her. It was tight and warm, and additive. Y/ns breasts jiggled as I thrusting into her faster. Her hands fell to my back and her nails marked me. Nails digging into my skin sent thrusting into Y/n's slippery cunt fast. Her breaths began to get faint, and her legs closed around my hips closing me in.

Her cunt squeezed me as I helped her reach her high, and I continued to help her through hers, as I felt my own high round the corner. Sex had never been that great before. Nobody, no girl had ever reached the same drag that Y/n had reached with me. No girl had made me want and yearn like Y/n had.

I wasn't finished with her yet, and my next thought was the balcony. This wasn't going anywhere anytime soon, she was mine until the sun rose the next day.

Completed on: 01/17/2022

Posted on: 01/20/2022

Deanie Beanie Tag List: @kazsrm67//@akshi8278//@deanswaywardgirl//@deandreamernp//@rach-12//@fofisstilinski//@doctorlilo//@hobby27//@ijustlearnedtolove-beep-bop-boop//@dilfloverr//@wonderfulworldofwinchester//@flamencodiva//@samsgirl93//@stoneyggirl2//@mrspeacem1nusone//@hit-meup69

500 Followers Tag List: @mrspeacem1nusone//@deandreamernp

[spookykittyboo]

Last Christmas

Look okay! This is so hard for me! For no reason 😂 and.... hope ya'll like it

×Christmas Theme× kinda

×Reader Dancing For Michael×

December 24th, 11:45

He was sitting on the brown, leather sofa. Every crack on the leather, goes wider as he sat on it. Staring down the fire in front of his naked eyes. In his state of mind, it's beautiful. They danced, gracefully, adding more heat to themselves. It was a work of art for him. The heat coming from the fire place sent warmth all over the dark room. From a close range, the heat should burn like a torture for a man. But again, it's Michael. A torture for a man is a paradise for the boogeyman. No question needed.

She.

She was upstairs. Staring too. At something she couldn't believe exist, in front of her very eyes. She was reflected in the mirror, a picture of a woman burning in her own flame. Someone she thought has died many nights before, rose from her own extinction just to grow feelings for the man with a knife.

The red dress she wore, hugged her body perfectly. Such a shame sometimes she thinks of herself as a pile of mess stitched into one. Dear, she's more than that, especially in the eyes of the man who have her around his fingers. She wiped down the dress one more time before looking back at her own eyes in the mirror. "He'll burn."

It could be her own adrenaline or just the night. But something in her chest grumbling for nothing, as she walked out of the shared bedroom of her and the man. Her red tinted lips muttered something only her and god knew. She left the door behind he opened, just like she always does, to remind herself, that she is no more chained to only looking out.

Though it sounds as sweet as sugar, it's just a top coat to cover the poignant truth she has under her skin. The unspoken truth of, the chain that still lingers around her leg, that gets heavier each day. Representing her own attachment to the ground where he stand.

...

She walked down the stairs, with her eyes staring straight forward. Straight shoulders, straight head. What she meant was to show how brave she is now, how she, now have the control over her own steps. But the tears that ran down her cheeks never say the same. All of her brave, straight up persona gives nothing away but shows how pretensious she is, which makes the shape breath in amusement. Such a poor little creature, she's too blind to realize how lost she is, to even find herself and pull her back. With no words. With no human emotion, he's able to control her head, pick the tiny pieces and do what the hell he wants with it.

And now, she's in love...

Her finger tips lightly brushed against the ladder handle one last time, before her left foot touches the floor. She saw the light coming from the fire, a room where the boogeyman was.

This place is no more of a nowhere to her. It's now the only place she can call home. A forced comfort, she said. As she closed her eyes, falling deep into her sleep, with Michael guarding her like a ruby. "Michael," she called from behind him. He heard her voice, calling for his name, but still his head looked down to the fire with his body planted to the sofa. "M-michael..." he doubted herself this time. Might be his act, or just the cold running all over her body. The patience she had, left and replaced with the courage to get closer to the shape. She thought to herself, "It could be a good idea or just an uncontrolled desire, that will wake nothing but a huge rage in him." she knew better than to touch Michael without his permission. He's a man of his own territory, with what he does for his free time, YOU do not want to cross the boundary he has set.

Her heart raced. This could lead to her being in the brink of her existence. Or, a start to something more subtle for him.

"Michael, i-" he woke up from his peaceful heated slumber by the fire, stood up straight, turned to look at you just to found his beloved victim in a red, flaming dress. He was stunned to say the least. She looked up to him with a teary eyes, feared this might be the last time she ever walk the ground and come crawling back to being trapped. "I-i...i- i was just wondering if i can show you something..." she barely looked at him anymore, she twirled her fingers around the end of her dress. To her surprised, she looked up for a moment to see him giving her nods of agreement, his strong hands moved to face the sofa over to where she was going. He sat himself back, pushing all of those questions, he had.

She put on a santa's hat, turn the radio on for a music she can dance to, then for the last time, she breathed in to relaxed her body. The music found its way to filled the emptiness of the room. Filling his ears with a strange sound, a sound he had heard before, yet, he still think very strangely of it. Music.

"Michael look at me. Just me..." a music to his ears. The only thing he recognized, the voice he only wants to hear. He watched her, as she moved her body, her hands danced freely in the air. And oh, her body, moved with the rhymes of the song. Her moved was similar to the fire, he thought. Nailing right to the truth. The more she danced, the more heat rain on her. She was a fire, light up by the passion she has towards him, her eyes were glued to his eyes. With each moves she made, his hands clawed harder to the arm rest, his breath gets heavier, the feel of posession grew larger by the second. His twisted head played a gruesome scene in his head. She's his. He's the owner of her brain, body, head. All of her.

...

She came down from the high she was on. She walked closer to him, he stand still, watching as her red dress became the colour he could only see that night. She came stradling him, with her new found confident, she looked him in the eyes, rubbed her body against him before leaning herself back, holding herself to his neck. "Is this your first christmas Michael?" Her eyes played him the game he used to have controlled in, but now...

His hands touched her bare back, pulling her closer to him gently, as she starts to moved her hips, front and back. He was starting to bite the bait, having his own hands sinked into the material of the dress, he started to take control of the pace, he was grunting hard and you were on your own high panting, and whining for more. "I- i want mo- more... ple-please.." you look desprate, disgusted of your own body. The way it jerked, just to reach a pleasure from him. "Stupid slut! Look at you!" he held your face, just to humiliate you, "Please... Michael.." the pathetic plead made nothing but for him to starts thrusting harder to you.

You were a psycho in a blood bath, a sensation only you, can explain. The terrifying urge to earn more and more pleasure that only he, can fulfill. You fell to his right side, whispered to his ears soft, like a cotton flying in the air "Merry Christmas peepaw..."

[mendesbadrepuation]

Knife Play || Bucky Barnes

*gifs not mine...creds to owner*

Pairing: Bucky x Avenger Y/n 

Background: It’s simple. You have an itch that needs to be scratched. If he’s willing to play then he too needs to be scratched. We all know how boring it can get when everyone is out of the Avengers Compound for the weekend. Except for the two people in the place who have always had an attraction for each other. 

Mature Content Warning: slight knife kink, unprotected sex (male x fem), very slight spitting, just a sprinkle of fingering, 18+ minors DNI

A/n: this is my first time posting smut. I never have had the confidence to do this. Just felt like it’s not my best quality when it comes to writing. Posting this for fun and as always everyone is welcome for feedback! :)

•••••

I was training late in the afternoon in the compound. I had an itch that needed to be scratched and the best way to release those feelings were working out. It was strangely quiet around the building today and it was expected to be like that for a couple of days. Really I think it was just me here and Tony’s technology. I had a faint idea that maybe someone else was here but we haven’t crossed paths yet.

I pick off my blades from the target board one by one. Each of the knives were sitting side by side each other. My aim was about as good as Clint’s. He did have some credit for making me who I am today. My skin was hot and lightly covered in sweat. I was training in a tiny black sports bra and tight spandex shorts. The sports bra left nothing to the imagination. I catch a glimpse of myself in the mirror to the side. Pieces of my hair had fallen around to frame my face. My braids were a little messy but still holding together.

Without looking at the target I shut my eyes and throw one knife. I hear it hit the board and I open my eyes to see where it landed. Dead center of the target. Damn I’m good.

“That was too easy.” A voice breaks the silence I was in and it startled me. I look up and meet eyes with James Barnes.

“You shouldn’t startle a lady with knives James.” I reply and playfully point the knife towards him. I watch him pull an evil smirk on his face. He brings his arms up and folds them in front of his chest. His biceps and shoulders looked as if they were going to shred his shirt at the stance. James had a muscular body like all the men in the house do. But his was different. His was more in his back, shoulders, and biceps. Most importantly his chest. Something I had always found insanely attractive about him. Often times I would catch myself daydreaming about the possibilities. The way he would take me.

“Knives don’t scare me. You for sure don’t.” He replies in a cocky tone making my stomach burn.

“Hm I’ll remember that.” My tone was playful towards him. What I would give for him to just fuck me right now. I couldn’t put a price on it. That’s how bad I wanted him and how bad I’ve always wanted him. “What are you doing here? Honestly thought I had the place to myself.” I turn my body back to facing the targets. Without hesitation I sling one at the furthest target hitting straight in the middle. Then I sling another a little closer to me doing the same.

“I stayed behind like you. I knew you were here earlier. I heard you singing in the kitchen this morning.” My cheeks burned from embarrassment at being caught by him. I was in no way a good singer so I’m sure he was not happy about that.

“Ooh sorry that you had to hear that.” I try to laugh it off to ease my thoughts.

“You shouldn’t be sorry. You have a pretty voice Y/n.” Just as my cheeks were coming back to normal they flamed red hot once more.

“Uh wow thanks James.” I reply.

“You can call me Bucky.” He responds and I felt honored I could. Steve and Sam were about the only two that could in this place.

“Well Bucky. You wanna throw some knives with me or stand there and look pretty?” The words came out of my mouth before I could really think about them. This grin pulls on his lips at my statement.

“Hate to show you up. I shouldn’t deny a beautiful lady like yourself though.” He replies and starts walking towards me. I lick my lips as I watch him heading my way. The moment he gets close enough he easily towered over me. I watch him look down at my body his eyes snuck their way to my chest for just a split moment. I still caught it though. I break the connection and make my way to retrieve my knives sticking into the targets. Bucky casually goes to the wall of weapons and picks the ones he wants.

Once I come back and stand next to him is when he begins throwing his. Each one he threw hit the middle target precisely. His intense focus was something that made the heat in my belly even hotter. His jaw was tense and the way his biceps would flex as he threw the dark metal. It was stunning. There was this thick tension in the air from the two of us. I believe both of us were wanting an itch to be scratched.

The gears in my head turn for ways to get him closer to me. Close enough he would touch me. When he goes to retrieve his knives I thought of something. I knew it would increase the tension in here to the max. Without hesitation I throw my knife directly past Bucky’s ear landing dead center of the target. It was centimeters away from hitting his hand. My aim was too good to actually touch him. His entire body stops dead in its tracks. He turns around slowly to face me. I’m standing there smirking. I had a very sadistic smile forming on my face.

“Do you real want to play that game?” Bucky asks daringly.

“Come on honey. You know I wouldn’t have hit you. I’m too good for that.” I was being downright playful with him. And maybe just a little to cocky.

“Let’s put that to the test then.” He stands directly in front of the target board. Just as he lines himself up I throw another knife in his direction. It lands directly above his head and it was so close im sure I snitched a piece of his dark hair. He didn’t flinch an inch from my actions.

“You know something that’s really hot? That a man can have, that is.” I spin the knife around in my hand as I sway on my hips. I never lost my eye contact with him. I was really testing my limits with him this time.

“Do enlighten me, doll.” He replies. I watch the way he licks his lips making me think of sinful things he could do with that tongue. The little pet name rang in my ear and he knew the effect it had on me.

“Fast reflexes.” I throw the knife aiming directly for his head. If anyone would catch it it would be him. I wouldn’t have thrown it if I knew he couldn’t. That’s what made this so fun. He easily catches the knife in his hand. The tip of the blade was pointed dead center of his forehead. I saw the subtle way his eyes turned to lust rather than rage. He knew what my intentions were in that moment. He flips the handle of the knife around and twirls it between his fingers. From here I could see his veins popping out in his strong hand. His metal hand shined in the light of this room. What I would do to have that metal touch me. The thought of how cool it would feel against my hot skin made goosebumps rise.

“You got some guts throwing that knife at me like that.” He says as he’s still twirling that knife around in his hand.

“Someone’s gotta put you in your place old man.” I playfully joke knowing that term would get him riled up easily.

He looks down at the floor and this time he has the sadistic smile forming on his face. “Someone needs to put you in your’s.” He uses the knife to point towards me.

The moment he locks his blue eyes with me I felt the words spilling out. “Then do it.” His body comes walking towards me like a man on a mission. He had one goal in mind and I was hoping we were on the same page with it. We become toe to toe and my head tilts up to meet his gaze.

“If you want me. All you have to do is ask.” I felt him place his metal hand against my waist. The contact made a shock go through my entire body. That’s when I felt the handle of the knife glide up to rest at the top of my chest. He rests it there waiting for my response. I don’t make a move or even place my hands on him yet.

“I don’t beg.” I reply back.

“Oh doll, I didn’t ask for you to beg. I asked if you want me. It’s a simple yes or no question.” He flips the knife around with the dull side against my skin. I felt him glide the knife up towards my neck very slowly. I keep my heart rate at a steady beat and do the best I can to show him he doesn’t have that much control over me. Even though he could have his way with me right now. He leans in pulling me to him by my waist. My chest collides with him in a split second. His lips go to the left side of my head directly next to my ear. “Yes or no.” He whispers into my ear and I felt my knees go weak. I know he saw the goosebumps form on my skin. He now had me where he wanted me.

I swallow hard before I answer. “Yes.” My words did not come out as strong as I wanted them to. He noticed the slight weakness. This time I could see the playfulness poking out of him. I felt him take the knife up towards my face. The pointed tip gets flipped around now. He gracefully pressed it against my bottom lip careful not to hurt me.

“Yes what?” He asks as he looks down at me now. He tucks a long piece of fly away behind my ear swiftly. His flesh hand cups my cheek and I lean into it instinctively. My tongue slides out and grazes across the metal in a seductive way. His eyes sparkle at the action. He removes the lethal weapon away from me and tosses it over his shoulder. It lands somewhere in the room.

“I want you.” I let the words fall out fast. I lean up on my tippy toes to reach his height. He meets me halfway to help and we put our lips together. I felt the burning sensation go through my entire body. He greedily slides his tongue on my bottom lip and I grant him access. My head spins at the feeling of us exploring.

Bucky brings his hands down to the back of my thighs. In one quick movement he tugs up letting me know to jump. The moment I do he hoists me up into his hold where my legs swing around his waist. Our lips never parted with all the movements. He carried me a few feet over to where the mirror was. My back pressed against it and the force of his body collided into mine. I suck in a deep breath from the feeling it gave me. The old man had more moves than I thought.

“That was smooth.” I whisper into the kiss and he huffs a laugh.

“I haven’t even gotten started yet.” He says and my stomach burns. Bucky begins placing kisses down my neck. Each one a little longer and he began to suck. I knew he was going to leave his mark on me. I let a low moan out when he sucks a spot on my collar bone. My hands now run through his hair tugging and scratching. I pulled him closer to me if it was possible. I wanted him to know his actions were very wanted.

His hands firmly grasp under my thighs again and he pulls away from the mirror wall. I securely link my arms further around his neck to get me stable. There was no way he was going to drop me no matter what I thought. I felt him sit down on a gym bench. It was leaning up so he had a back rest now. My legs simply straddled him giving me a lot more control. My hips grind into his groin very slowly and I got a good feel for him. Already so hard for me. He pulls back from my neck and looks directly at me. Our breathing was heavy and our hearts pounding.

“The amount of times I have thought about this. The way I feel right now doesn’t compare. You’re a dream.” I smile at his words. I let it slide that he pauses our moment.

“You’re unbelievably sexy.” I confess as I look at him. He had a little stubble around his chin and jaw. Only he could pull that look off. My fingers work their way down to the hem of his shirt. My hands slide under and my nails scratch up his torso. Lightly I trace the creases of his abs and watch the way he reacts. I could see his eyes trying to roll in the back of his head at the pleasure the action brought. He was trying to hide how bad he wanted me just the same way I was being.

I lift his shirt up and over his head tossing it in a random direction. I see the scars from his time in Hydra. This time he watches me to see how I react to his body. He was beautiful and the scars only made it better. I trace my fingers along his chest and torso some more enjoying all the exploring. My hands make their way down south to the zipper of his pants. I lock eyes with him and slowly pull the zipper down. With some help from him he rolls his pants down just enough he could break free. I hear him sigh out from no longer be restricted in the pants. I stand up for a moment and peel my spandex off quickly stepping out of them. He watches my every move with those steel blue eyes. My heart flutters the moment he extends his hands out pulling me back on top of him.

I bring his cock out from his boxers and I was instantly intimidated. I spit in my hand and bring it down to slowly rub him to start. The moment I began my sensual hand motion he moans. That sound alone was euphoric. Bucky places his lips on my shoulder as I rub him. He sucks another hickey and his breathing was increasing. I tilt up to align my entrance with him. With his help I glide my way down and he fills me up inch by inch. When I bottom out we were both releasing moans from just that feeling. I start to rock my hips once I get adjusted to his size.

His hands firmly grip my hips and forces them down on to him thrusting me harder on him. In a swift movement he brings his hands up under my bra line. He tugs it up taking it off and throwing it down. I was completely exposed to him and I never felt so good in my skin before. He looks at my body from top to bottom and make sure he doesn’t miss a spot.

“Gorgeous.” He says and it gives me more confidence. My hands now rest on his shoulders and I pick my pace up. I felt the burning coil ready to spring up from my high. His metal hand makes his way down from my neck. He pauses at my breast to give it some attention. His tongue laps around my nipple sending me into pure ecstasy. Then the cold metal goes to my wet center where his thumb now rubs my clit.

“Oh J-James. Right there.” I moan his name loudly from the new sensation. It only brought me closer.

“You like that baby?” His voice was raspy and deep. Something about saying his real name got him going. I try to pick my pace up so the friction would increase between us. With his thumb rubbing me and the way he filled me up made it challenging.

“Yes.” I say and it follows with a loud moan. He notices the way I slow down from exhaustion and starts to thrust himself up to meet me. It deepened himself into me making me see stars. He goes over to my other breast giving it equal treatment. The entire room was spinning from all the sensations. You could hear our moans bouncing off the walls of the training room.

“I’m so close.” Bucky pulls his mouth away from my chest to say. I bring my head down to rest between his neck and shoulders. My left hand was cupping the back of his head as it tangled in his now sweaty hair. The right was gripping his bicep very strongly. My small hands didn’t stand a chance from how wide they were.

“God James don’t stop.” I whine as he thrusts even deeper into me. My heart pounds and I knew I was right there. His cold metal thumb continues to rubs circles and it completely sends me over the edge. I moan loudly into his neck and felt myself release. Just from the sound of my moans Bucky cums right after me. I felt him slow his thrusts as he rides out our highs.

“That was fun.” I say with a smile. I was still seeing a few stars as I lean back to look at his face.

“That was amazing.” He was still catching his breath. I carefully pull myself away from him and he lets out a huge breath from the overly sensitive nerves in his tip. I felt the emptiness from him no longer filling me up.

“Round two in the shower?” I ask him. He looks up at me quickly making sure he heard me right. I had that playful smile back on my face. “Or does the old man need a nap?” His mouth slightly falls slack and his tongue pokes out licking his lips. “If you keep teasing me with your tongue like that I’m going to lose it.” I let the words slip out and this time he smirks.

“I’ll show you what this tongue can do.” He replies and quickly I stand up. I take my bra and spandex and hold it in my hands. Bucky grabs his shirt and we practically run into the bathroom. The one we so happened to share. So you could imagine how high the sexual tension was between us when one of us accidentally came in on the other.

“I’m going to make you regret calling me an old man.” Bucky tells me as he backs me up against the wall of the shower. Hot water was coming down the stream and the air was already steamy. He licks a strip from the valley of my breasts up to my neck. I hold back the moan that so badly wanted to fall out.

He never made me regret a thing ; )

[forthehpfanboys]

Soft

Pair: Harry Potter x Reader; he/him.

Summary: Harry manages to get you alone and learns your as soft as you look.

Warnings: SMUT (MDI), well, kinda, top!Harry, like one spank to the thigh, dirty talk, if I missed any, please dm me.

Smut Prompts 18 and 24: “Wow, your skin is so soft.” and “Your skin would look so pretty covered in hickies and hand prints, don’t you think?”

~DO NOT REPOST ANYWHERE~

-

Harry chewed on his lip. His eyes wandered along your form, his eyes almost glued to the exposed skin of your legs. He couldn’t blame you, even he was sweating under the rays of the burning sun. He was watching you lean against the wall of Honeydukes, chatting idly with Ginny. His green eyes raked up your legs again before going to your arms, which were crossed over your chest. 

He felt blessed McGonagall finally allowed him to go to Hogsmeade with everyone else, even if it took him literally begging. He licked across the sucker he bought from the sweet shop while Hermione and Ron chatted about something he genuinely couldn’t care about. All he could focus on was you and your bloody amazing legs. He couldn’t help but think they looked undoubtedly soft.

“Blimey, he’s gone again.” Hermione stated, suddenly steering the conversation topic over to their friend drooling over the sight in front of him. She couldn’t help but roll her eyes before turning to the redhead next to Harry, who was trying to effectively follow his eyesight.

“Is he staring at my sister?” Ron’s voice was defensive, his eyes narrowing a bit as he turned to his best friend. The redhead loved Harry like a brother, but he threw hands with his five older ones, he’d do it to Harry too.

“Surely you’re not that thick, Ron. He’s clearly thrusting over (L/n), has been for some time. Just wish he could focus on at least one blood conversation.” She raised her thin textbook before letting it land against Harry’s head. The dull blow brought Harry back to reality. “Good evening, Harry. Welcome back from undressing our fellow classmate. I hope I didn’t ruin it too soon.” Hermione was rolling her eyes, again. 

“Sorry, guys.” Harry mumbled, trying to resist this dominant urge to drag you away from his best friend's sister. However, he lost fairly quickly when his green eyes bounced between the redhead now caressing your shoulder and your laughing form. Harry stood up quickly, almost knocking his chair over.  “I gotta handle something, enjoy your date.” He quickly walked around the table, speeding over to the couple and leaving his blushing friends behind.

“Oh, speak of the devil.” Ginny said, her gaze falling on the Gryffindor hurrying to your side. You’d been talking about him and knowing that only fueled his urge. She was about to greet him, but he was grabbing the belt loop of your jean shorts and effectively dragging you down the cluttered pathway.

“Harry?” Your voice did nothing to break him from his thoughts. “Where are we going?” You looked down at the finger he had curled around your belt loop. Your eyes landed on the veins protruding from underneath his skin- mostly on his hands. The sight had you swallowing deeply. “Harry?” You tried again.

Finally, the man in question turned to you, his green eyes darker than usual, causing heat to spread across your body. You shuffled behind him, keeping up with him easily.

“Three Broomsticks. They have rooms.” He hurried to the door of said inn and pub before yanking it open and allowing you to go in first. He quickly got a room for the time being and hurried up the stairs, his finger still wrapped around the belt loop.

“Why would we need a room?” You asked, adjusting your shorts when Harry finally let go. He walked into the room with purpose, gracefully sitting on the edge of the bed. You walked in, still confused, but willing to see where this goes. You shut the door behind you and that was when you noticed Harry patting his lap.

“I want to test a theory of mine, if that’s alright with you.” He smiled at you, his eyes still dark, hand patting his lap again. You pieced the puzzle together, deciphering what he meant easily. Placing both hands on his shoulders, you straddled his lap, color immediately blossomed across your cheeks when his hands landed on your hips.

“Ok, sure. Test away.” You nodded, your voice shaking. You swallowed thickly when the hands made a beeline for your ass, giving it a squeeze before moving to your thighs. His fingers toyed with the edge of the shorts.

“Wow, your skin is so soft.” Harry spoke up, his hands running across the skin. He couldn’t help but drool over the way your thighs almost busted the seams of your too tight jeans. His irises locked with yours, a chuckle leaving his lips. “You’re blushing, love.”

“Shut it.” You grumbled, shifting on his lap. Your blood was suddenly rushing downward at the pet name, your throat naturally constricting at the idea of where this would go. Harry removed a hand from your thigh and used it to pop the sucker from his mouth and pressed it against your lips.

“That’s rude.” Harry let out a soft laugh, his eyes glued to your lips as you accepted the sucker. His hand immediately moved back to your leg once the candy was trapped in your mouth. His grin spread as his hands not-so-innocently trailed along your jeans, going from the soft skin to the hem to the waist band in one quick move. “Use your manners.” He fully expected a thank you.

“I’m not five, Harry.” You smiled, moving the sucker to one side of your mouth, making it press against the inside of your cheek. You were certainly giving him a show.

“If you're not careful, I might have to do something about that tongue.” Harry’s hand gripped your chin while the other gave your thigh a squeeze hard enough you had to hold back a moan. 

“Oh, yeah? How are you gonna do that?”

Harry tapped his fingers against your thigh before planting a harsh smack to the skin, adoring how the sound echoed with your squeak. His hand ran over the now warm skin, enjoying the goosebumps that covered the skin.

“I have my ways, kitten.” He dragged his tongue slowly across his lips, enjoying the view in front of him. “Your skin would look so pretty covered in hickies and hand prints, don’t you think?”

The idea made your mouth dry and the sucker didn’t help an ounce.

[lowkeyorloki]

Glass Warrior

You’re so beautiful, and so breakable. Loki could never forgive himself if he hurt you.

( smut ! 18+ only please, and tbh, that goes for my whole blog )

~

Want is ebbing away at your core.

Loki’s mouth is over yours, robbing you of all your breath in a searing kiss. You’re completely wrapped up in him, fingers tangled in his black hair and eyes closed so you can meet him in the dark. 

The room is heavy with lust, your back pressed against the armrest of your couch. Loki leans over you, and his body is heavy, and all you can think is, good. If you’re going to go out in any way, you want it to be hot and grandiose and because someone just loved you that much.

Neither you or Loki have shirts on, and his bare stomach and chest against yours feels so good it makes you dizzy, but it isn’t enough. Your hands slide from Loki’s shoulder blades, all the way down his muscled back until they reach the curve of his ass. You take note of every curve and divot under your palm, because you know time like this is limited. You have to make the most of it, commit any and everything to memory.

Your fingers have barely teased the hem of Loki’s pants when he sits up.

“Darling,” he says. Loki’s words are sweet, but his voice is sinful. It’s strained, and when you get a good look at Loki, you take in his reddened lips and lidded eyes. You probably don’t look much better, with all the attention hehey’’s been giving your neck. “We have to stop.”

There’s a sinking feeling in your stomach, and you cross your arms over your chest, suddenly feeling self-conscious. Loki sees this, and a look of horror passes over his face.

“No.” he unlaces your arms, pulls you back to him, and presses a chaste kiss on the top of your head. You’re confused, and hurt, but you can’t resist Loki. You accept his embrace, burying your face in the crook of his shoulder. “You’re beautiful.” he whispers in your ear.

“So then why don’t you want to...” you trail off, avoiding eye contact.

Loki runs his finger up and down your spine, his breath returning to a steady place. He sighs.

“I can’t risk you.”

“I don’t understand.” you unlace yourself from Loki’s arms. “I’m an adult, Loki.”

“But you aren’t like me.” you bite your lip. Loki’s words are like knives, lodging themselves deep in your heart. “Your body... we aren’t built the same.”

You reach forward, and when Loki doesn’t move away, you trace the definition of Loki’s chest. Abs. You run your finger over each rib, promising both yourself and Loki you won’t miss a single part of him.

Despite his recent protests, Loki’s eyes slide shut. 

“You don’t seem so different to me.” you murmur. “You never did.”

Loki takes your hand. “I have to protect you, pet. Even against myself.”

“Protection isn’t paranoia.” you say. Loki looks... crestfallen. Like he’s fighting a war with himself. “You’re strong, Loki, but I can handle myself.” you lean in to kiss the base of Loki’s neck. A sound of pleasure escapes from his lips. You rake your teeth up Loki’s throat, and he cranes his head to give you more access. You can tell Loki wants this- the evidence is pressed against your leg, driving you damn near insane. And besides, he’s admitted under the cover of late nights and hushed tones what he fantasized about doing to you. 

With you.

“You ask me all the time to trust you,” you say next to Loki’s ear. “So, just once, can you trust me?”

Loki pushes you back, but keeps a hold on you. His grip on your waist is tight, almost uncomfortable, but you don’t move. Loki brings your forehead to his.

“I can’t lose you.” he says, his lips brushing your own. You bring a hand up, running your thumb over Loki’s sharp cheekbone.

“You aren’t going to. We’re past that. We’re so far past that.” Loki looks at you with worried eyes, but there’s hunger there too, a thousand years’ worth. Loki looks down, then back up again, and suddenly all worry and stress is gone from his face. 

He’s ravenous.

“Tell me to kiss you.” Loki’s tone is borderline abrasive after being so concerned. It catches you off guard, and your breath hitches. Loki attaches his lips to your sternum, sucking lightly and then biting down. You yelp, the action sending waves of arousal throughout your body. His lips travel to your breasts, his tongue swirling around your nipple. You hunch over him, your fingers returning to his hair and pulling. Loki groans.

“Tell me.” Loki's hands trace your back until they dip under the hem of your jeans. He cups your ass, your head falling back. 

You pull yourself together for just long enough to do what Loki wants. You hold his chin, keeping his eyes trained on his own. The next words you say, you pour your desire, your reassurance, your desperation into.

“Kiss me.” the words come out between pants. “Please, Loki. Kiss me.”

Loki knocks you off balance, so you’re lying completely on the couch. It’s small, almost too small for this, and Loki looms over you, a hand on either side of your head, so close all you can see is him.

It’s a wonderful sight, but sight isn’t enough.

You bring your palm towards the tent in Loki’s pants, brushing it experimentally. He hums, pressing himself into your hand. He’s hard, and you whimper upon the realization it’s because of you. Loki is a god. A literal god, and he’s here with you, aching just as much as you are.

Loki catches your lips in a deep kiss, one that muffles any sound you might make. He reaches between the two of you, under your panties and towards your aching core. You’re wet, ready for his fingers as they slip between your folds. Loki’s thumb circles your clit, and you yelp, biting down on his shoulder to lessen the noise. Loki chuckles, pulling away.

“No hiding, sweet girl.” he tells you, his voice deeper than usual. “Let it out.”

Loki enters you with a finger, barely giving you time to adjust before he adds another. It feels electric, and you rake your nails down his biceps. You feel the best you ever have before, thighs trembling and needing less but wanting more. Loki touches you in steady, planned out strokes. He curls a finger inside you, hitting your g-spot, and you feel yourself nearing the edge-

Loki pulls away, leaving you shaking as release is stolen from you. He puts his palm flat against your stomach, caressing you in a soothing way. It does nothing to ease your arousal.

With a wave of Loki’s hand, both of your bottom layers are gone, leaving the two of you completely exposed. It’s slighter colder, but the feeling soon fades as Loki begins peppering kisses to the insides of your thighs. He backs off every time he nears your heat, causing you tremble under each and every touch.

“Loki.” you pant. He looks at you with blown-out eyes. You feel like you might explode. “Loki, I...”

“What is it?” his tongue flicks out against your lips, and your hips jolt. Loki looks pleased, smirking. You clench your fists.

“Take me, Loki.” you say. You look at Loki, all of him, and see his erection. Loki’s cock is throbbing, red with precum. Your mouth waters. “Please.”

Pure emotion flickers across Loki’s face, and he reaches forward to brush a strand of hair from your forehead.

He lowers himself between your legs, his head teasing your entrance. You grip Loki’s shoulders, leaving little impressions of half-moons on his skin. You hope they last, your chest filling with pride over the idea of leaving any type of mark on Loki. 

Loki places soft kisses on the curve of your breast, murmuring against your skin. You can’t tell what he’s saying, but you respond to the light touch, goosebumps forming all over your body. Your heart hammers against your chest in anticipation as Loki teases you.

He thrusts his hips forward, entering you in one quick motion. You gasp, your back arching off the cushions. Loki takes the opportunity to wrap his arm under you, allowing for him to reach even deeper inside you.

Loki is unlike anyone else. You feel full, satisfied as your walls clench around Loki’s member. He occupies your whole being, moving in and out of you so gracefully one would think the two of you had done this many times before. Your sweat-sheened bodies seem to fit perfectly together, completely in sync and euphoric. Your vision blurs, and you see stars even though you swear your eyes are open.

The sounds of sex grow louder as the coils wound deep inside you and Loki threaten to snap. It’s you who orgasms first, brought on by Loki timing nips on your breasts with the movement of his hips. You come with a shout, clutching Loki while feeling too hot and cold at once.

Loki quickly follows suit, his body tensing and then going slack against you. He hides his face in your shoulder as he groans, spilling his seed inside you as you whisper praises in his ear.

Loki lays on top of you for a moment before he eases out of you. You feel hollow at his absence, but you can’t focus on the feeling long as aftershocks consume you.

Loki gathers you in his arms, coaxing you through them and pressing kisses into your hair, telling you how amazing you felt. You want to return the compliments, but Loki shushes you, tracing unknown shapes into your spine. 

You let your eyes rest and breaths stabilize, but it doesn’t take you long to crave Loki’s attention once more. You bump your nose against his, earning a laugh.

“I told you.” you say, but there’s no conviction in your voice. Out of the corner of your eyes, you see the corners of Loki’s mouth forming a smile. 

“Yes,” he says. “Perhaps I did underestimate you.” the air stills. “But...” Loki’s nimble fingers creep down your figure. “It may be better if we make sure this wasn’t a single occurrence.”

[ushittyoldman]

nobody’s fault but mine (pt. 2)

Levi wouldn’t really be Levi if he knew how to handle his intense feelings for you.

pairing. levi x fem!reader AND a little bit of jean x fem!reader (b/c once again i am a slut 4 jean too)

warnings. some fluff, language (b prepared for a lot of the f-bomb)

a/n. hi sorry 4 the long wait, life is a little hectic rn (it’s snowing n our power has been going out on n off for the past few days lmfao also school b lowkey kicking my ass) BUT i wanted 2 say thank u so so much 4 all ur feedback to part 1 it was so so so unexpected n sweet n flattering i literally still can’t wrap my head around it. i would rly appreciate some feedback 2 this one too since this is A LOT more levi n i actually adored writing him but i would luv 2 know what u guys think of my characterization of him (im a little nervy) but yes feedback is encouraged! this is kinda long but a lot happens so i rly hope u guys appreciate this n enjoy it bc it took me so long 2 write n rewrite it heheheh (side note 4 the sake of age n everything, all the 104th cadets r actually 18+ including our cute lil reader) also! pls continue 2 request more levi ok that’s it 4 now enjoy!

“Rise and shine, sleeping beauty.”

“Jean!”

The hushed voices stirred you out of the pleasant state of unconsciousness you had been in. A sharp pain shot through your head as you slowly opened your eyes, blinking quickly to adjust to the bright light. You flexed your fingers subtly as an attempt to gain awareness of yourself and your surroundings. Once you were comfortable, you slowly turned your head to your right and saw a scene you had grown painfully familiar with– Jean arguing with someone. The victim of the week was Armin, and you almost wanted to laugh at the quick back-and-forth between the two.

“Your bedside manner… sucks,” you managed to mumble. You cringed at the uncharacteristic hoarseness of your voice.

“There she is!” Jean exclaimed, shooting a victorious smirk at Armin, before fondly looking down at you, as he moved closer to your side.

You heard multiple gasps of your name, and you quickly turned your head to your left, before regretting it due to the sharp pang that followed in your head. Nevertheless, you mustered up as bright a smile as you could, looking at your friends who had all taken various positions throughout the room. Eren was the first to your bed, embracing you tightly.

“That was scary,” he softly mumbled your name, before pulling back, “Don’t do that again.”

The concern on his face startled you momentarily, and you couldn’t help but avert your eyes. You blinked quickly before looking up and shyly smiling at Eren.

“I’ll keep that in mind for next time.”

You then looked up at your fellow cadets, who stood surrounding your small bed in the infirmary. Your love for these people sat heavily in your chest, and you beamed up at them, before you realized you were in the infirmary.

“What happened?” you genuinely asked, your husky voice taking you by surprise again.

“Oh, I’ll tell you what happened!” Jean scowled, crossing his arms in anger, “That little bastard—”

“Jean, you can’t say that about the Captain!” Sasha chided, looking sideways in fear as if to emphasize her point.

“Captain, my ass!”

You attempted to stifle your giggling, yet your mood significantly dropped upon remembering Levi’s treatment towards you this past month. You tried to conceal your obviously bothered expression, but you felt a hand softly ruffle your hair. You looked up and smiled at Reiner.

“Don’t sweat it, kiddo, I’m sure he’ll tone down the punishments after this,” he reassured, obviously mistaking your dejection over your unreciprocated feelings for Levi for something else.

Appreciating the gesture, you continued to smile up at him while nodding softly. Reiner had a comforting presence, and you felt your mood brighten slightly.

“Fingers crossed,” you deadpanned, earning a soft laugh from Bertholdt, who had taken a seat at the foot of your bed.

Jean’s relentless bashing of the Captain continued, as Sasha, Connie, and Armin attempted to calm him down, warning him about the consequences they’d all have to face if word got back to Levi. Eren gritted his teeth in irritation, as he glared up at Jean, threatening to “knock him out if he didn’t shut up,” while Mikasa had silently moved around the chaos to rest her calloused hand on your own, silently squeezing as a gesture of comfort. You squeezed back.

“Look, all I’m saying is he obviously has it out for her. She’s a better soldier than all of us– even you, titan boy— and it’s still not good enough? I call bullshit!”

“I think he’s just trying to be a good teacher, I’m sure there’s a lot I can still improve on,” you justified, and all eyes turned to you.

“There’s not,” Mikasa bluntly stated, leaving no room for argument.

Your friends all agreed, and you scrunched your nose playfully to conceal the warmth that had spread throughout your body at their praise. You worked hard to get where you were– there was a satisfaction in knowing that all of your effort wasn’t going unacknowledged.

“Jean-boy’s right—”

“Bastard!”

“—Captain Levi has been unnecessarily cruel to her, and we’ve all noticed it!” Eren’s fists clenched in anger as he ignored Jean’s yelling.

“But the Captain isn’t the type to hold grudges or act impulsively, so I think there’s something deeper to it,” Armin reasoned, apologetically glancing at you in case his words offended you.

You nodded softly, not wanting to worsen your headache; however, it didn’t really matter when Jean’s painfully loud voice retaliated almost immediately.

“He overworked her to the point of her passing out from exhaustion and severe dehydration!” His eyebrows furrowed in anger, and his sandy brown hair bounced with his every move.

You winced from the pain in your head, and the movement didn’t go unnoticed by Reiner, who glanced at you from where he stood.

“Jean— inside voice, yeah?” Reiner softly spoke, subtly tilting his head down towards you. Jean’s gaze softened and concern replaced the anger on his contorted features, as he apologized to you.

“Yeah, seriously, what are you getting so worked up for?” Connie innocently asked, before a knowing look crossed his features. He turned to his partner-in-crime, and the two donned shit-eating grins as they turned back to Jean.

“Right, that’s why.”

Bertholdt, whose lanky body had been horizontally lying across the bed comfortably, sat up onto his elbows and cluelessly asked, “What’s why?”

Sasha’s smile widened, and she crossed her arms, mimicking Connie’s knowing smirk. “It’s because Jean-boy, here, is sweet on our dear little—”

“Would you shut up!” Jean yelled louder than before, fists shaking in anger. His face was flushed an impossible shade of red, and you would’ve joined in on the laughter, had your head not exploded from the pain.

You were fully aware of the incessant teasing Jean received regarding his relationship with you, and you would honestly be lying if you said you didn’t get a kick out of it as well. Deciding to spare your friend today, you sent a good-natured smile to him, hoping that would be enough to quell his frustration.

Had you not turned to converse with Eren, you wouldn’t have missed Jean’s dazed smile.

While talking to Eren, your mind briefly drifted to Levi and the situation that was weighing heavily on you. You didn’t want to believe that the Captain hated you– you desperately grasped onto your excuse that he was simply a harsh teacher. And yet, you knew there was something more to it.

In a panic-driven moment, you momentarily wondered if he had somehow found out about your feelings for him. You remembered him telling you about his upbringing— you knew better than most that Levi and confessions of love did not go together... at all. Before you could further dig yourself deeper into the pitiful hole you had been in the past month, a painfully familiar voice broke through your intrusive thoughts.

“You know how loud you are? This isn’t a damn daycare.”

“Sir!”

All conversation in the room came to an abrupt halt. You couldn’t help but grow amused at the sight of Eren and Bertholdt scrambling off your bed to stand and salute their superior. Your small smile was wiped off your face when your eyes met stormy grey ones. You quickly looked down, before inhaling quickly and swiftly pulling your bedsheets back. You attempted to muster as much strength as you could, ignoring the multiple eyes on you. You gracefully stood up from the bed, and turned to Levi, managing the salute as well. You slowly looked up at him.

“Sir,” you shakily mumbled, internally cringing once again at the uncharacteristic rasp to your voice.

You received proud looks of admiration from your friends, though Jean’s remained more concerned than proud. Idiot! he thought to himself. We know you’re strong, now’s not the time to prove it!

Levi, meanwhile, had tried his very best to suppress the guilt that had been eating away at him for the past day; however, it had only worsened when he saw you and heard your weak voice. Upon making eye contact with you, he almost wanted to fall to his knees and apologize profusely for everything he had put you through, audience be damned. 

Levi had spent the better half of the day pacing around your room in the infirmary wing of the Scout Regiment’s base, lost deeply in his thoughts, as his concern for you weighed heavily in his heart. After a few more hours of pacing, he had finally come to the conclusion that he was an idiot (a grade A, unique brand of idiot all in a league of his very own), and that he was in love with you.

Where the first realization annoyed him to high heaven, the second one brought him a sense of peace that was only heightened every time he had looked at your unconscious form.

Levi, uncomfortable with the amount of self-actualizing he had done that day, had left the room after softly caressing your cheek, hoping to convey all of his guilt and apologies and love into the simple gesture. Once he was away from the infirmary wing of the base, he inhaled deeply, itching for the comfort of a cup of warm tea. On his way to the mess hall, he had passed by your friends from the 104th, all undoubtedly on their way to see you. Levi’s eyebrow had slightly risen upon noticing the varying looks of defiance and anger on each of their faces. He had remained unfazed, his half-lidded eyes looking away, as if he hadn’t even seen them at all.

Somehow, it was harder to face them now with you standing amongst them. 

His face retained its usual impassive and bored expression, yet it momentarily faltered when he noticed you slightly stumble from where you were standing next to the hospital bed. Levi’s heartbeat quickened, and he made a subtle move to rush over to you to catch you for the second time that day, but Jean was quicker. The taller man had been keeping a watchful eye on you, and had quickly dropped his salute to stand behind you and steady your slightly uncoordinated form. You comfortably relaxed backwards into his arms as you sent a grateful smile up at him, and he softly smiled back in response, leading you back to the bed.

Levi was both relieved and a little fucking pissed off.

“Visiting hours are over— I need to talk to the brat,” he lazily said, authority ringing loudly and clearly in his command.

For the first time in all his years of captaining the scouts, there was a quick hesitation after his command.

Levi raised an unamused eyebrow at each of the cadets, silently challenging them to disobey him. Despite his threatening aura, he wouldn’t blame any of your friends if they were to defy Levi. The Captain deserved it for his treatment of you— he’d take it like a man.

Your eyes widened in surprise when your friends subtly glanced at you, silently asking if it was okay to leave you alone with him. Upon hearing Levi’s request to talk to you, your heart had begun to uncontrollably race and you swore you could feel it in your throat. You were disappointed in yourself for growing excited at finally being able to talk to him. 

Blinking quickly, your cheeks grew hot under everyone’s gazes, so you reassuringly smiled at your eight friends, and you once again felt the genuine love you had for them erupt within your heart. 

Ever the peacemaker of the group, Armin signaled for the rest to follow him out of the room, and they each uncertainly walked behind him. Mikasa squeezed your hand once more before following closely behind Eren, who sent you an encouraging smile. Bertholdt subtly sent a thumbs up to you, while Reiner winked at you as he looked over his broad shoulder. Your smile widened; however, it faltered when your eyes met Jean’s. His irritated expression worried you, yet before you could respond, he turned away and walked past Levi.

Levi had to give it to Jean— not many people had the balls to openly glare at the Captain.

Once everyone was gone, the tension within the room increased tenfold. You looked at Levi, and you bit your lip in contemplation, anticipating what he would say. Many thoughts rang through your head.

Was it another punishment? Was he going to yell at me? Did he find out about my fee–

“How do you feel?”

You almost had to pinch yourself. After one month of barely any interactions with your friend— if you were still even allowed to call him that— you realized how starved you were for pleasant conversation with Levi.

“I’ve been better,” you breathed out, still cautious. “How… how do you feel?”

Even after such an unpleasant experience, your unwavering kindness shone just as brightly. Levi’s heart ached so sweetly, and he internally groaned upon realizing how fucking whipped he was.

He silently stepped forward, pulling a seat to the side of your bed. Once he was seated, Levi looked into your eyes, and you felt your breath hitch at the intensity of the swirl of emotions dancing within his normally cold eyes. He exhaled softly.

You noticed how tired he looked.

“Just peachy.”

There was a pregnant pause, and you came to realize that there was just too much you wanted to say to him, and you didn’t know where to start. Your soft eyes held his sharp gaze.

“You scared the shit out of me, brat.”

Your heart involuntarily skipped a beat, and your eyes widened in response.

“I did?” you internally slapped yourself at your stupid response.

“Yeah. You did.”

“Sorry, sir,” you softly mumbled.

“Levi… just Levi.”

The Levi in front of you was a completely different man from the one who you’ve had the pleasure of interacting with over the past month. You thought back to your friends and their anger at your mistreatment, and you thought of the many unfair punishments, cold shoulder treatments, and overworking during training (despite you being second only to Humanity’s Strongest, himself). Slowly, your incredulity at being treated like a lapdog began to dim and was replaced by your growing indignation. Though you were no stranger to standing up for yourself, you still felt your anxiety skyrocket as you looked back up at your superior.

“Do you hate me, Captain? Did I… did I do something?”

And there it was.

Levi knew the question would come up at some point, and yet he still felt ill-prepared in his response. He knew this was a big step for you— in the whole year that he’s gotten to know you, he learned how much you hated confrontation. You blatantly ignoring his request and choosing to address him by his title caught his attention, and he frowned. When he looked into your slightly watery eyes, a warmth spread throughout his chest, and he had to clear his throat.

“Don’t say shit like that, you haven’t done anything.”

Levi wanted to punch himself— he was never good with words.

You, however, weren’t fazed by the manner in which he spoke. You had fallen for the man, harsh words and all.

“Then why have you—” you paused as you momentarily lost your voice.

Levi thought it was cute (to be fair, he found everything about you endearing), yet he knew it would be inappropriate to openly admire you when you were so clearly upset with him.

“Sorry,” you grew embarrassed and licked your lips, “It’s just… well, why have you been ignoring me? And— and yelling at me? We stopped drinking tea together, and practicing in the forests. You don’t even acknowledge me when I talk to you! I’m sure you have a really good reason, sir, but I just—”

Levi detested the sick feeling of guilt that churned within his heart. In hindsight, he really should’ve thought it through before he began his little plan of distancing himself from you. How else was he supposed to tell you oh, everyone in the fucking Scout Regiment wants you, and so do I, but I haven’t done anything about it because I’m a pussy, so I just decided to take it out on you and wallow in my own self-pity like the sad little man I am, without sounding like he was deranged.

“—I just miss you.”

Levi’s eyes widened a fraction of an inch, and his breath hitched. This time it was the sincerity in your eyes that made him look away quickly.

“I…”

I’ve missed you too, dammit.

At his lack of a response, your eyebrows furrowed, and your irritation grew. Your small hands balled the soft bedsheet, and you swallowed to soften the burn in your throat before speaking.

“Why did you even come here?” you scoffed indignantly, attempting to mask your hurt, “Was it to just to yell at me some more? Oh, I know! Maybe I need to run through training ten more times again, right?”

The guilt churned even more in his chest, and Levi seriously wanted to punch himself. He willed himself to say something— anything— but he felt speechless in front of you.

“Levi,” you hoarsely spoke with desperation, and he looked into your watery eyes. “Say something, please.”

It was as if you had read his mind, and a slight feeling of reassurance quelled the storm in his heart; you really were the only one for him. As he met your eyes— your beautiful, enchanting eyes— he felt his self-hatred skyrocket at the amount of hurt in them. He had grown used to seeing them filled with humor, kindness, and a soft edge that was rare to find nowadays. Yet seeing them filled with such pain and hurt was unsettling, and Levi went mute for the fifth time that day.

You nodded in understanding when he failed to say anything, and your heart clenched. Jean had been right— you were nothing more than a lovesick puppy. You blinked quickly as a poor attempt to conceal your tears, yet nothing ever escaped the Captain’s attention.

His gaze softened, and Levi found out something else about himself— he really didn’t like seeing you cry.

“Shit, please don’t cry,” he tenderly mumbled, as he leaned closer to you and gently cupped your face to wipe away your tears with the pads of his thumb. 

Your breath hitched and your full lips involuntarily parted. You relished in the warmth of his touch, and you wanted nothing more than to lean into his comforting hand. Your name fell from his lips, and you felt yourself come back to reality. Remembering just how you had gotten into this situation, you decided to stand your ground. Despite everything in your body begging to give in and accept this moment with the Captain, you stood unwavering in your decision.

You gently grabbed his large hand with both your hands, and moved it away from your face and into your lap. You held it there loosely and delicately rubbed your fingers over his hand soothingly before eventually stopping, and looking back up at him.

His usual bored expression was long gone, and in its place was a very tender and vulnerable expression. A storm was brewing in his grey eyes, and you distantly remembered stargazing once with him. You had desperately wished you could read his thoughts— somehow, you had found his daunting eyes more fascinating than the starry sky. You felt an ache in your heart at the intimate memories, and you really really wished Levi loved you the way you love him.

“You know what, Levi? It doesn’t even matter if you hate me, because—” you inhaled sharply. 

This has to be done, you reassured yourself, or else you’d be subjecting yourself to an onslaught of hurt and heartbreak. 

“—Because I hate you.”

Your lip quivered and your broken voice faltered. And of course, Levi noticed.

His eyes darted down to your lips at the slight movement. His hands had stilled, and he decided that getting eaten by a damn titan would be much less painful than this.

And then he’s looking at you. You looked back at him, yet he’s looking at you— through you— in that way that makes you want to hide and hold your ground at the same time.

“Right,” Levi drawled, and you knew he didn’t believe you (hell, you were unconvinced yourself). His eyes reverted back to their cold nature, and he ran a hand through his hair, allowing the silky strands to softly land against his forehead.

He stood up, and wordlessly gave you a onceover. Under his scrutiny, you felt yourself grow insecure, but deep down you desperately hoped he’d stay. You bit your bottom lip in apprehension, and Levi’s eyes softened at the sight of your nervous habit.

How is it that he could kill titans all the livelong day yet when it came to this sweet girl, so small and disarming, he couldn’t even utter a single word?

Levi had never felt more pathetic. He peered down at you, momentarily debating whether it would be right for him to attempt one last thing before finally deciding fuck it, and gently cupping your cheek for the third time that day, bending down, and pressing a soft kiss to the top of your head. He gingerly inhaled your enticing scent, appreciating how even after the hell he had put you through, you still smelled so alluring.

You were positive that Levi could hear your heartbeat. You blinked many times in disbelief, as he pulled away and sent one last lingering gaze down at you. 

Levi slightly smirked at the pretty blush that had colored your cheeks, his half-lidded eyes drinking in the mesmerizing sight of you sitting up in your bed and gaping up at him, your cheeks flushed and wet with the remnants of your tears. He turned around and silently left the room. 

He had ignored every part of his body that begged him to stay.

▲▼▲

“Shut up, I can barely hear them!”

“Ow— Bertholdt, you’re stepping on my foot!”

“Oh, sorry.”

“Watch it, horse face!”

“Eren.”

“You piece of shit, I’m—”

The piece of bread that had been tightly held in Sasha’s grip suddenly fell to the floor. Everyone went silent.

“Holy shit, I think… I think he just kissed her.”

Jean really hoped Sasha was wrong. 

He decided to ignore the fact that her freakishly good hearing bordered on supernatural, so there was really no way she could’ve been wrong with a mere wooden door standing between her and the conversation.

“I knew there was something going on between them! Reiner— pay up.”

Reiner muttered several curses under his breath as he pulled out a hefty stack of cash from his pocket. Connie’s grin widened.

Armin had glanced up at Jean, slightly alarmed at the dark expression on his face. Before he could comfort his friend, the door suddenly opened. Everyone scrambled to straighten themselves up, attempting to act like they hadn’t been just eavesdropping on the entire conversation between you and the Captain.

A chorus of sir’s rang throughout the large hallway, and Levi grew amused at the sight before him. His lips twitched upwards, and the cadets had to almost physically stop their mouths from dropping open at the sight. Levi’s ghost of a smile disappeared when his eyes met Jean’s seething ones.

The two held each other’s gazes, Levi’s expression being cool, while Jean’s had been irritated. Levi was not a fucking idiot; he knew the kid was in love with you.

Join the fucking club.

Levi, realizing that this was the exact reason he had gotten himself into that mess with you and not really wanting to sour his somewhat good mood, looked away from Jean to nod at the group of your friends.

“As you were.”

He brushed past Jean, his gaze as intimidating as ever, as he silently walked down the hallway. Jean’s fists clenched tightly. Once Levi had turned the corner, the group exploded into chatter, their reactions varying from stunned to adoring.

Jean really really fucking hoped Sasha was wrong.

▲▼▲

Your horse trotted proudly through the vast landscape, the wind blew through your open hair, your friends teased each other amicably, and your excitement grew at finally being cleared to join the scouts on their next expedition. Though you hadn’t been getting much sleep lately, and you’ve been a little too preoccupied to eat much, nothing could bring your mood down at this moment.

You were alongside your friends as you all followed the section commanders as their horses galloped into the edge of the forest. The mission for today was to exterminate any titans who had wandered too close to the walls. A simple mission, and you were more than capable.

You had been in a great mood.

Until your eyes landed on Levi.

He had been further up, leading his own squad. He had turned around to respond to Gunther, and that’s when his eyes had met yours. Your internal conflict grew, and you ultimately ended up averting your eyes and ignoring him, deciding to maintain your cold treatment towards him. 

Him kissing your head had only further confused you, despite the sweet butterflies you felt every time you thought back to it. Levi’s treatment towards you had unexpectedly changed since that day in the infirmary, and it had reverted to the way it was before his sudden aversion to you, though there was something much sweeter in his actions. You swore you were getting whiplash.

Though he had been significantly kinder to you, you had held your ground, unrelenting in your declaration. Part of you was terrified that if you gave in and became comfortable, he’d suddenly return back to the yelling, the punishments, and the overworking. Part of you also didn’t want to face reality— your feelings were unreciprocated, and they would only serve to bring you a world of heartache and sadness.

Your cold shoulder towards him was nothing compared to the way he had treated you. Yours mainly consisted of avoiding him, and when that wasn’t an option and you had to interact with him, you kept it civil and short. Your heart would ache, but you knew it was for the best. It helped that Jean would offer approving smiles and words of encouragement, even going as far as to smirk when you had ignored the Captain.

Levi, meanwhile, had frowned when he noticed that you ignored him. Again.

In all honesty, he did deserve it, but that didn’t mean it still didn’t hurt like a bitch. He grew irked at your display. Levi hoped you would understand that him kissing your head and showing affection towards you was his grand confession of love. You knew he was shit with words, and he hoped that that would be enough.

He was sadly fucking mistaken.

His attention had been on you the whole mission. Even when the scouts had to dismount from the horses to use the ODM gear through the trees, he had somehow managed to keep a watchful eye on you. You were graceful as ever as you flew through the trees, though his observing gaze noticed that your reaction time was noticeably slower than normal. He had also noticed the dark circles under your usually bright eyes, and he grew worried upon noticing your overall state.

Levi, himself, wasn’t faring much better. He was getting virtually no sleep, running completely on caffeine, adrenaline, and pure will, yet he still made sure he was in excellent shape when it came to these missions— humanity was resting on his shoulders, after all.

The firing of a flare gun in the distance indicated that the group would be encountering titans— a lot of titans— from the left. The soldiers prepared, all eyes focused on the left. You had conveniently taken up the right-most end of the formation, and your attention had also been on the left, your blades held tightly in your hands.

It was only by chance that Levi decided to glance down at you as he soared above you in the middle of the formation. Your eyes met once again, and Levi’s heart lurched at the beautiful sight, when movement behind you immediately caught his attention. A large abnormal with the ability to jump from tree to tree had suddenly appeared and made an attempt to grab you. Your attention had been solely on Levi, so you hadn’t noticed, especially over the roar of the wind in your ears.

Levi’s eyes widened, and he yelled out your name. The rich baritone of his deep voice reached your ears, and you turned slightly behind you, yet you reacted too slowly. Your body jerked backwards, flying so far from the group. You flew through the air at such a great speed that it took you by surprise when you slammed against a tree as the wires of your ODM gear grew tangled. The abnormal had missed you— barely. Your head slammed against the tree and you felt the wind knocked out of your body at the impact.

You whimpered at the hell of a hospital stay you’d have to face after this.

The abnormal almost seemed to be grinning wider upon realizing that it had successfully subdued you. You attempted to quickly stand up, though your body yelled in agony at the movement. Willing yourself to fight back, you shakily stood up, tightly gripping your blades that had miraculously not fallen to the ground throughout the struggle. You winced at the searing pain that shot through your head, yet you clenched your teeth in determination. Realizing that your gear was broken and therefore useless, you quickly discarded yourself of it, and felt some of the tension in your body alleviate now that you were significantly lighter.

“The hell is she doing?” Jean yelled incredulously from his spot next to Levi, and the other members of the group looked on in shock as they all attempted to make it to you in time.

“She’s fighting back,” Levi spoke through gritted teeth, his worry for you eating him alive. His eyebrows were furrowed in stress and anxiety, and he was now soaring impossibly fast through the trees in order to reach you.

Stupid brat. Stupid, resilient, little brat.

“Attagirl!” Oluo and Eld cheered, and Petra shoved them, warning them to stop their blatant ogling in the middle of a dangerous mission. They skillfully dodged her attack, grinning at their adept use of the ODM gear.

A noise towards the side caught their attention, and the group realized the titans they had been anticipating were now in sight. Levi coolly assessed the shitty situation, before commanding that most of the soldiers take care of the titans, while Levi, his squad, and some of the 104th’s cadets would assist you. The group split up, and Levi turned his attention back to you, his heart thumping against his chest.

As the titan made a move to grab you, you exhaled quickly to focus before skillfully jumping onto its elongated arm and running quickly towards its nape. You were defying gravity as you gained speed the higher you went. The titan wasn’t stupid, and it began to grab you with its other arm, yet you anticipated its move. You lithely dodged it, executing a quick front flip as you narrowly escaped its grasp once again.

This was it!

You saw your opening. You leaped forward and pushed your feet against its shoulder as hard as you could, soaring high up in the air above the titan. Muscle memory served you well, and you thought back to the training circuit that had mimicked a situation almost exactly like this one. You gracefully began to spin yourself faster and faster, your cape billowing behind you as you finally readied your blades for the final blow. You yelled out, as your head pain worsened. As a result, your maneuver faltered slightly, almost imperceptible to the human eye. The titan noticed.

It lashed a large hand out again, attempting to grab you, but it accidentally slapped your body away. You cried out in pain, and you flew in the direction of your friends, hurtling towards the ground. You were falling so fast, and you felt yourself grow dizzy from being chucked around so much in the last five minutes.

Eren yelled out your name, a whimper stuck in his throat at the sight of your almost lifeless body spiraling downwards. Jean’s eyes widened, and he knew he wouldn’t be able to make it in time.

Levi’s heart stopped upon witnessing the titan slap your body with so much force. You were plummeting towards the ground at an impossible speed, and he didn’t even think twice before withdrawing his ODM gear’s hooks and diving towards you within the blink of an eye. His cape flew behind him, and a determined glint had overtaken his angry features. 

You had been bordering between consciousness and unconsciousness, yet the sight above you had been so clear that it almost felt as if everything was moving in slow motion. Your long hair flew around you, creating a curtain around your face, as you looked up at Levi. He had dived towards you, his jaw so tightly clenched. His muscular long arm began reaching out to you. The ground was quickly approaching, and you felt a sense of serenity at the sight of your Captain, despite your confusion and the severity of this situation.

“Levi,” you mumbled, smiling softly.

His face dropped upon seeing the calm expression on your face, and he willed himself to go faster, a number of expletive curses ringing through his head. 

That damn titan. Did it know how small you were? How precious you were?

He spun himself slightly to gain momentum, and he saw you were just within reach. Levi confidently stretched his strong arm out even more, managing to wrap his hand around your arm. He swiftly pulled you into his chest, one arm wrapping around your waist, while the other hand cradled your head protectively against his broad chest. He swiftly flipped himself around to face his body upwards, further ensuring he’d take the majority of the blow in case you two ended up hitting the ground, and shot both of his ODM gear’s hooks into a nearby tree, propelling both of you away from the ground and towards the high branch. You fleetingly realized how familiar this position felt.

Once Levi safely landed, he kneeled, and supported your body against his thigh as he continued to hold you in his arms. He quickly looked over his shoulder, and could make out the sight of the titan falling to the ground. All the members of his squad seemed alive and well, so he turned his attention back to you. His eyes quickly darted over your face, desperately searching for any obvious injuries.

Your eyes fluttered open at the feeling of Levi running his hands through your hair and over your cheeks. The Levi in front of you was leagues different from the cool and composed one you had come to know. He had a frantic look in his eyes, his jaw clenched tightly, as he desperately peered down at you. 

“Le… Levi?” You mumbled, your voice still a little hoarse from your recent infirmary stay.

“You are so precious to me, you hear me?” He lowly spoke, panic and anger and a whole plethora of emotions coloring his normally deadpan voice.  

Your jaw fell open and you were almost positive you were suffering from a mean concussion, and this was a hallucination. “Wha—”

“You’re a fucking brat— an incredibly frustrating, resilient little brat— but you’re mine.”

You dazedly looked up at him, and you realized how close his face was to yours. His muscular chest was heaving up and down, and a small droplet of sweat dripped down from his hairline. Levi’s handsome features held nothing but adoration for you, and in that moment nothing could bring you down from the high you were experiencing. You felt his warm hands cup your cheek once more, a habit he seemed to be fond of.

“You want a fucking declaration of love? Here it is— if anything happens to you, I swear I’ll kill every titan on this piece of shit planet,” he spoke, surprisingly unbothered with how vulnerable he was being with you. He moved closer to you, his forehead nearly resting on your own. “I don’t give a fuck if you hate me or not. You’re mine, and I’m yours. And that’s all there is to it.”

Your hand creeped up to grasp the wrist of the hand that had been caressing your face, and you tightened your fingers around it. He froze, momentarily wondering if you were rejecting his confession, and he internally groaned at the thought. 

There’d be no coming back from this one.

“You’re mine?” You shakily asked, a gloriously beautiful smile slowly gracing your features.

“That’s what I said,” he mumbled, attempting to conceal how lovestruck he felt at your smile.

“After… after we get home and I get some medical attention, you’re going to have to kiss me, alright? I’m—”

You were cut off by his lips pressing against your own. Your eyes fluttered shut, and you relished in the soft feeling of his lips molding against yours. You felt an indescribable warmth erupt in your chest, and you whimpered against Levi’s lips. His kiss was soft and warm, a huge contrast to the Levi from this past month. He pulled away just as quickly as he had bent down.

“One for the road,” he simply explained, glancing down at you. He internally smirked at the pretty blush coloring your cheeks— he was always fond of the sight.

▲▼▲

“You’re not serious.”

“Do I look like I’m joking?”

You stifled your giggles at Levi’s straight face. Your expression still showed your disbelief at what he had just told you.

“I’m not an idiot, Levi, I know how some people look at me,” you laughed, rolling your eyes playfully.

“Even the Commander?”

“Oh, I’m working my way up through the ranks right now, can’t you tell?” You teased, gesturing down to your intertwined bodies, as you both faced each other in his warm bed.

“You’re funny, brat,” he deadpanned, no heat and all fondness as he affectionately pinched your cheeks.

You snuggled deeper into his chest, savoring the warmth that you were enveloped in. You were wearing his shirt— still warm and smelling strongly of him— and you inhaled softly as your face pressed deeper into his chest. Somehow, the slight aftermath of your headache from the recent expedition began to dull slightly.

“I’m sorry again,” Levi murmured, softly cradling your head against his chest.

“Really? I couldn’t tell the first five hundred times you said so,” you teased, looking up at him. Your breath hitched at the sight of his face angled down towards you, dark wisps of hair falling over his eyes and structured face. Levi was so painfully handsome, you could feel your heart flutter.

His eyes were intense, and his guilt continued to stir within his stomach. Seemingly able to read his mind, you pressed a chaste kiss to his warm chest.

“Idiot,” you mumbled, “I really wouldn’t care if the King himself came up to me and proposed, and you know exactly why.” 

“Humor me.”

“Terrifying guy, goes by the name of Humanity’s Strongest Soldier?”

He chuckled lowly, the deepness of his voice vibrating through his chest, and your insides turned to mush. Feeling relieved at successfully pulling Levi out of his little hole of guilt, you yawned softly. Your bruised ribs still ached at times, yet you ignored it this time to cuddle deeper into Levi, who was also on the verge of sleep.

He was sleepily looking down at you, observing your attempts to get comfortable in his embrace, and he softly smiled to himself. His muscular arms tightened around you, one of his hands coming to rest on the soft curve of your hip. He relished in the fact that sleep would be coming easily to him with you here. Levi had surprised himself with how easily he was able to show his affections toward you, and he chalked it up to that being further proof that you really were the only one for him.

He felt a warmth come from the sweet pang in his chest, and it spread throughout his entire body. Levi had learned to associate that feeling with you.

His eyes closed silently, and you pressed one last kiss to his chest.

“Precious,” he mumbled, “Precious little brat.”

▲▼▲

[pure-kirarin]

The rose left unwatered (Law x f!reader)

Heyo guys ! this is my first multi part fanfiction and I hope that you will all like it =w=.  No TW for now apart for coming smut in next chapters~  This was originally a request by @soul-stealer-reaper​ . Thanks for requesting :) originally you asked for a scenario with rough NSFW where Law has a crush on a girl that the government is afraid of and that has high bounty. As this will have some parts, everything you asked for will come in the next chapters so no worries :’) ! I won’t hide that wrote quite freely tho, I hope that it’s fine.  Synopsis : You have felt unwanted for so long that you forgot the last time you felt like you belonged. Quite paradoxical, when you are one of the most wanted “criminals” in the new world. You cross paths with Law after joining the strawhats at Fishman Island to “kill some time” and you both feel a weird connection from the moment your eyes met, curiosity, hatred or desire, did it really matter as long as feelings were involved ? ---------------------------

A rose left unwatered will wither, A heart left unloved will rot, A sweet dream left untouched will go bitter,  A love left unspoken will be forgot. Nemo -  Murder in Venice

The first time that Law saw you, he found you extremely annoying. He remembered that he saw your wanted poster somewhere, with one of the highest bounties that he has ever seen. Seeing such a high bounty made him raise an eyebrow at first, what could you have done to have the whole world on your back ? The second thought that came to his mind was that of detachement, then he flinched at that thought.

The first time that Law saw you in person was after his Allience with the strawhats. You stayed at the ship the whole time, you didn't even bother to follow others to punk Hazard or to help them with their plans. He thought that you were an extremely selfish person and you reminded him of the person that he hated most. That way you had of doing what you wanted without caring about others, the smirk you had on your lips at all times, never submitting, always acting so sure of yourself, it irritated him.

How could someone get such a strong reaction out of him ? He didn't even know, he always eyed you from afar and it was enough to know that you prfoundly, passionately got on his nerves.

You joined the strawhats in the Fishmen Island, finding your way to them and just asking to join. Luffy's simplistic demeanor meant that he accepted right away, not caring about who you were and not flinching at your high bounty.

You made it clear that you were just staying to be entertained, in fact, you didn't want to fight, you didn't want to help anyone, your curiosity was just peaked by Luffy, by that man that defied the world government, by that man that defied everyone at Marineford. You weren't impressed, but you just felt sympathy towards him and wanted to find some company.

You found what you were looking for, in fact, life with the strawhats was enjoyable, you didn't get along with Usopp or Nami. The former thought that you were « too scary » and would kill them in their sleep, the latter hated how little you were willing to cooperate.

You had your own reason, but nobody on that ship was able to grasp your personnality, you just had your own way of thinking, your own internal logic that nobody seemed to get. Who were you ? Why were you there and why was the whole world on your back ? All these questions were provoking Law, teasing him endlessly. His curiosity was growing day after day and you were always there, on a lounge chair enjoying the burn of the sun on your skin, not caring about anything else, not caring about him, not that he cared...did he ? You got on his nerves just by being there, he felt obseverd yet, he wasn't the kind of people to get flustered but your gaze was so intense, feline.

It was a soft night on the sunny, a few days before getting to Dressrosa.  On this night, the strawhats decided to gather around after dinner like always. They enjoyed socializing and spending time together, telling stories and playing silly games.  It was quite late so Momo was already sleeping. Everyone was on the deck enjoying some drinks and you were on the crow's nest, peaceful.

« Y/N-chaaawn~ » Screamed Sanji, making you look down. « Come have some fun with us, don't stay there on your own ! »

« - Yeah Y/N ! We're all having fun here. »  Said Luffy.

You jumped gracefully from the crow's nest just like a cat. You then looked around circularly before taking place between Law and Robin as she silently made some space for you. The atmosphere was light and everyone was enjoying themselves. Zoro was drinking bottle after bottle as Sanji was screaming at him. Usopp was telling you all for the tenth time about how he took down a sea king with his little finger and Luffy and Chopper were captivated by how cool that was.

You were just silently enjoying that sense of peace till Nami asked you out of nowhere

« Oh true Y/N, I actually never asked but I am curious, why is your bounty so high ? What have you done ? »

For a second your expression changed and everyone's eyes were on you. You just decided to tell them some kind of lie and you said that you killed a celestial dragon. Everyone looked at you in awe, killing a celestial dragon means that you had to escape from admirals. You excused yourself then saying you were tired, therefore going to sleep.

After hours of partying Strawhats went to sleep. You got out of the girl's quarter wearing only a night gown. Your thoughts were waltzing since earlier's events and you were looking melancolically at the ocean. The sound of the waves was so calming, you got close to the board of the sunny, placing your elbows on the wooden surface. You didn't notice it when Law came your way, he wasn't sleeping either, his sleeping schedule was always herractic. He was still intrigued by the lie you told earlier and by your overall attitude, something about you drew him towards you like a magnet.

-(Y/N)-ya...You didn't kill a celestial dragon, did you?

His voice was low and hoarse, stealing a murmur out of your lips. Your eyes met his, gray, icy. It was the first time he said your name outloud, actually, you briefly ever interacted since he got on this ship.

-Trafalgar ?..

You were wondering why did he bring this up, he never ever showed interest in you and you in him. In fact, now that you looked at him more in detail, you could say that he was an exceptionally handsome male with soft dark hair and a gloomy but all the more seductive cast of demeanor.

He could obtain any female he wanted at a snap of his fingers. You looked away and added :

-I thought that you disliked me. Why do you even ask ?

He raised an eyebrow, but got back to his stoic expression almost immediatly. He didn't know that it showed. However, you were wrong, he was starting to get intrigued by you, by your high bounty, by the detached way you acted. He was usually the one to observe and analyse people, but something about you...He couldn't put a finger on.

-I don't like lies.

-I have my own reasons...I'm sure there are a lot of things that you want to keep secret.

You hesitated then looked his side. He seemed calm still and just shrugged, ready to go back to his spot but then you added ;

-I lied because I didn't want to involve anyone in this...When I was just a child, I was a part of a dozen kids that were selected to take part into a « government experiment »...I don't want to go into details but...you clenched your fist, eyes fixed on an imaginary point in front of you I am the only survivor of that experiment...Therefore I'm being tracked... We were given power...To this day I don't know its extent...But I know that with just a blow of my fingers I could...you gasped How could a child be granted such a power ? Why did they have to choose for me ? I didn't want any of this....I never wanted to fight, I don't want to fight. I just wanted to be normal, to have a family, to feel wanted...haha...your laugh was bitter I mean, I know that I am the most wanted person you probably met, but I didn't mean it in that way. I hope that this satisfies your curiosity, Trafalgar Law.

Your eyes met, he looked in them, deep, searching for traces of honesty. You were telling the truth, there wasn't a doubt. He liked the way his name sounded out of your lips, it was the first time that he heard these three letters murmured by you. It's as if his first name sounded different, you had that way of saying it, almost like a whisper. You looked so vulnerable in your nightgown, so fragile despite your usual arrogant carapace. The fiery tigress looked like a sweet kitten and he was surprised by the way he just wanted to reassure you. He brushed that thought quickly and added, stoic ;

-I see, why did you tell me ?  

-You just asked me to, no ? I just felt like we were a bit alike...Ah. Also, quit asking me questions....This is starting to feel like a doctor examination...Now it's my turn to ask. Why do you even care ? I didn't think that the surgeon of death was such a curious person.

He scratched his chin, hesitating for a second, but then he just said bluntly ;

-The first time I saw you, I thought that you were extremely annoying.

- Ah ? you looked at him with a straight face, but still a bit offended If we're playing first impressions then...

-But I get it now.

He wasn't annoyed, in fact, he was just fascinated. It wasn't animosity that he felt but desire to know more about you. It wasn't that he was making sure that you're not endangering anyone, he wanted to look at you, it was just excuses upon excuses, rationalization for a case of irrational fascination. Now that the diagnostic was there, he could understand his emotions more clearly.

-You are talking in riddles but well...Whatever...Why did you form an alliance with Luffy by the way ? I wonder how you're able to handle all of his energy if you can't even stand mine haha.

-Let me correct you ; I don't hate you. He stops for a moment then he adds. There is a man that I would like to kill.

You turn now, back against the wooden border of the ship. You had an amused look on your face, wondering who was that man that he wanted to take down ;

-Now that's interesting ! Let me guess, who is it ?

-You are quite curious yourself, (Y/N)-ya...

He thought it was only fair, you opened up to him, he opened up to you, but telling you the details wasn't for now.

-So you are using the strawhats ?

-I am not sure who is using who. And what is your reason for joing the strawhats ?

-Luffy, you said with dreamy eyes, it's the D in his name...I have been drawn to people with this letter in their names like a magnet...I don't know...I just believe it's fate...

He was startled by your answer, so you knew about the « D » letter ? He also had this letter in his name...He just added then, with a face that didn't betray his surprise ;

-Oh , a girl like you believes in such romantic stories ?

-And what is a girl like me like ? You added, amused. I mean, apart from annoying.

-...Quit it already.

His tone was stable as always. He didn't show it but he thought that it was cute of you, how you insisted and played along. You faced him, your eyes looking right into his and you weren't one to look down, oh no. Irisis into his irisis, looking for him and digging something into him. He didn't even know what you meant by such a look, once again, feline.

The salty smell of the ocean's water mixed with the odor of your fruity perfume made that moment a bit more enjoyable and he wasn't even the type of person to enjoy chatting.

Check mate, you made up for that horrible first impression. You added then ;

-You avoided my question by the way, why wouldn't I believe in « such romantic stories » ? What do you think you know about « a girl like me » ?

You got a bit closer, amused, and he thought that it was getting a bit dangerous. You had a fake woeful look in your eyes. His limbs were filled to the brim with that ocean perfume of yours mixed with that sweet taste, and for a second it was as if that odor operated some kind of spell over him, because a surprising thought occured to his mind ; what would your lips taste like ? Certainly salty like the ocean and a tad like peaches.

Unsettled and unfocused he said ;

-Shouldn't you be sleeping ?

In reality, he didn't want these thoughts to make a nest out of his head and decided to cut the conversation quite abruptly. Your rocked your body back, almost like a child and rose your eyebrows in a semi-sarcastic semi-dramatic way.

-I'm a bit too old for a bed time don't you think, Trafalgar ?

-Just Law.

-Yes yes ! L-a-w...See you tomorrow ! You're not as uptight as I thought.

-(Y/N)-ya.

He just said your name in a strict way, probably indicating that you needed to go. His tone was firm, stop teasing already.

You looked at him with a diminishing smile, pronouncing every single letter so slowly, stretching his name on your lips so that these three tiny letters seemed endless. You tossed your hair, and something about the whole situation, about your feminine charm, something about the breeze of the night made the both of you feel unbearable tension. The type of tension that happens between a man and a woman at three in the morning, that tension that makes every little detail, every look in the eyes, every brush of the fingers feel indecent.

The eyes of a woman can't lie, his ego was stroked as he thought he had a glimpse of your hidden desire.You turned to go back to the girl's quarters, his eyes still hanged on your silhouette. ----------- I hope that you liked this first part. Please tell me what you think. It is a great motivator to know that I’m writing and being read. <3 I wish you all a nice day !

[babylooneytoonz]

mr. shelby's secretary [CEO AU]

[GIF by @maskingfragility]

— pairing: Modern! Tommy Shelby x Reader

— summary : Prompt request 1) “Can you shut up for once in your life?” 2) “Am I your lockscreen?” “You weren’t supposed to see that.” 3)“You’re insane,” “You love me,” “Not right now I don’t.” 4) "I think you might be my soulmate," as requested by @sighonahurricane and @screechingexpertpruneneck [ Hope you like it. I decided to club both the requests into one as the prompts were almost the same ones.🤍]

— warnings: none

[Masterlist]

You had been an exceptional student, all through school, then all through college and then had begun working for one of the most famous firms in London. Due to unforeseen circumstances, when your father passed away due to a terminal illness, you had to quit your job in London and move to Birmingham to take care of your mother.

Birmingham was an altogether different world, atleast as compared to London, but it was a good change for you. Even luckier for you was the fact that just weeks into moving to Birmingham City, you interviewed for a secretary position for CEO of Shelby Brothers LTD, Thomas Shelby and you had gotten the job.

You had been now working for him for over three months now, but the journey had definitely not been easy. You still remembered how your first day at work had been an absolute disaster. You had arrived on time, at 9 am. You still had an hour to go before Tommy entered his office at 10 am, and there were a few stacks of papers that you had to clear.

Before starting your work, you had decided to get yourself a mug of coffee to boost up your day but while you were at the pantry, sitting and sipping your coffee, your phone beeped. When you looked at the message, colour drained from your face.

Thomas Shelby had a meeting at 10, and thus, he had decided he would come in early, and he hadn't found you in your adjoining cabin, and neither were the papers from his room that he wanted gone were actually gone. The colour drained from your face when you saw his text— in three words did he write— get in here, ASAP.

The hearing that you received from Tommy that day, you doubted if you had retained your job after the first day, but strangely, Tommy didn't fire you. That was the only time you actually made him angry though and things slowly changed after that. Thomas Shelby began relying on you more and more as the days passed. He even took your opinions, or let you select the suits he was going to wear on events, without even expressing any doubt on you.

For Tommy, you were like a breath of fresh air in times he needed it the most. You were exceptionally good at your work, but what he liked secretly about you was the fact that you were good at handling him— be it his anger, that you took almost gracefully, without even bothering to spite him back. You listened to him scream and yell at you, but you never lost your own temper. Or be it the recognition of his tiny needs, like when he was in a dire need of coffee.

Tommy would be lying now if he said that he didn't need you; he was now completely dependant on you. Everyday, when he came to work, the first thing he looked at was your smiling face through the glass panels of your adjoining cabin, before he disappeared into his office, and there lay his mug of piping hot black coffee without sugar, and a sandwich, or pancakes, you knowing well aware that the man came to office on an empty stomach. He would call you into his cabin atleast fifty times in a day.

Few months into you working for Mr. Shelby, you were finally growing to despise the man less and less, and learn to get accustomed to his cold outer exterior, and get warmed up to the minutest reflections of the gentleness he hid inside of him.

Tommy was getting impatient, as he leaned against his mahogany desk, his shirt rolled up by the sleeves up to his elbows as he rested the elbows against the surface of the desk. A lit cigarette rested in his left hand, as he stared at the rain clogged glass window in his office. It was raining heavily, and he wondered if it was the weather that had you actually running almost two hours late when you never were late.

He swiped his palm over his face, worry gnawed at the pit of his stomach. He knew you weren't like that. In fact, you were one of the most punctual person he had actually met. He stood up, dabbing the lit end of the cigarette into his ashtray, before he grabbed his coat and walked out of his office. Mary, one of the employees who were friends with you, was outside, talking to one of the interns.

"Mary? Have you heard from [Y/N]? She isn't in yet," Tommy asked, and the woman turned, her eyes almost widening for Tommy seldom spoke to anyone in the office, unless required.

"Mr. Shelby, uh, sir, I don't know. I haven't seen her in today, I was also wondering—" she began, but before she could complete her sentence, impatient Tommy had cut her off.

"Mary, can you go through the company records and give me her address?"

"Definitely, Mr. Shelby," the woman drawled, as she hunched over her system, her fingers tapping against the keypad as she pulled out your address from the company records. She noted the address down on a slip of paper, and looked up at him, "Mr. Shelby, I can ask someone to check on her if you'd like? Maybe due to the weather, her car broke down."

"It's okay, Mary, I'm already headed out, just hand me the address," he impatiently threw out his palm, and the woman placed the parchment in his hands, knowing well as to not say anything else. Tommy turned around and slowly began walking out of the building towards the elevator and pressed the button.

The rains were not going to die down anytime soon, that was something that Tommy noted as he brought the car to a halt outside the address that Mary had handed him. He squinted his eyes, eyeing the plain looking building that stood in front of him, eyeing the first floor that you occupied. He wondered if you had already left for he couldn't see your car anywhere in sight.

Finally, he pulled out his umbrella from the back seat of the car, and stepped out into the lashing rains, dashing through the puddles towards your apartment where an elderly woman was at the door, shielded from the rains underneath the front porch.

"Can I help you?" The woman said in a kind voice, as she moved out of the way, and let Tommy fix himself underneath the porch to find a shelter from the rains.

"I'm looking for,uh, Miss [Y/N]. She works for me," Tommy muttered, under his breath.

"Oh, dear. You're Thomas Shelby? The CEO of Shelby Brothers LTD?" The woman's eyes began glistening with excitement and Tommy nodded, his eyebrows creasing into a hint of a frown. He wasn't here for a fangirl moment.

"Is she here?" Tommy's impatience was a good enough answer for the woman, who nodded and immediately informed him that you had already left for work over an hour ago.

This did nothing to cease the worry pooling inside of him. If you had already left for work, then why weren't you in office? He pulled out his phone, placing his palm on the screen as though shielding it from the woman's unwanted, prying eyes, hoping you had left him a message but you hadn't.

"Thank you," he finally muttered, as he ran out into the rain again, and this time, he didn't even bother using the umbrella, letting himself get drenched from the porch to the car.

Turning the ignition on, he slowly pulled the car on the road, and he started driving in a slow pace, his eyes on the road in front of him.

As if someone had been listening in on his thoughts secretly and had decided to act on it, Tommy brought the car to an abrupt half, applying the brakes. There you were, right in front of his eyes, and Tommy couldn't help but let himself smile warmly, after ages.

From what he could see, it was clear what had taken you so long. You had your heels in your hands, your body was drenched in the rain, your hair sticking to your face. Your knees had mud on it, but that didn't deter you from running about the muddy road, helping the elderlies out of the bus that had broken down.

He saw, as you took the shopping bags from one of the older men, and gave your arm to him that he took and you helped him step out of the abandoned vehicle, and you helped him cross the muddy road, where the tyres of the bus had gotten stuck.

He watched you for a few minutes, leaning back against the car seat, his hand flying to his wet hair. After a few seconds, he decided to quietly head back to the office, without even letting you know that he had seen you.

About an hour later, you rushed into your office. You had managed to head back home and change into a fresh set of clothing, and put your dead phone on charge. Now you were back, and your heart was strumming inside your chest with fear, you knew Tommy would be mad— very mad.

Slowly, you brought your fisted palm to his door and knocked twice.

"Come in," Tommy called out from the inside; he sounded much calmer than what you had expected him to be, and this made you frown. You had expected him to be snarling. Timidly, you made your way up to his desk, your fingers nervously toying with each other as you looked at him. He had his laptop in front of him, and his fingers skimmed over the keypad. He gave you one glance, and looked back at the screen once again. His ignorance made your heart churn.

"Mr. Shelby?" You asked.

"Yes, [Y/N]?" Tommy looked at you, through his round frames.

"Aren't you angry I'm late?" You blurted, mentally cursing yourself, silently.

He looked at you, amused. Your innocence made his heart flutter but he wasnt going to admit it anytime soon. He noticed your body posture, you were standing like a meek little lamb, afraid of him. He stood up from the leather chair he was sitting on and placed his glasses on his desk, before he moved around his desk to where you were. He then fixed himself directly in front of you and gave you a smile, "Why would I be angry? Go take an off today, [Y/N]. You deserve it."

You were confused by his sudden behaviour but you dared not complain, or question him lest he changed his mind. You gave him a haphazard smile as you dashed out of his office, weirded out by the change in his behaviour.

It was Saturday night, and it meant staying up late with a good Netflix series on, and some good bingewatching and munching on snacks for you. Your mother had already gone to bed, for she was an early sleeper. You had managed to sneak into the kitchen, and heat up the leftovers from lunch; the pasta your mum had prepared for you.

You turned your laptop on, letting it rest against your belly as you began browsing through the newest Netflix collection, trying to settle on a movie, when there was a buzz in your phone. You squinted your eyes when your phone started glowing. Your hand reached out as you grabbed it and began reading the SMS from your boss.

Thomas: be at Richard's at 7 in the eve. Got some really imp clients coming over. will be needing you to take the notes.

You frowned, there went your Sunday weekend plans down the drain; not that you had any solid plans, other than Netflix.

Sunday came by faster than you had imagined it to be, and you were standing in front of your wardrobe, weighing the different outfits that you had to fix a suitable one for the dinner at Richard's. Richard's was one of the posher restaurants, and you wanted to look your best, even if it was just business.

Finally, even though your bedroom looked like a typhoon had occurred inside your room, you were able to pick out a dress. It was just the right amount of professional, and casual. It was navy blue, the neck cut deep enough but yet, it wasn't trashy one bit. Once you had changed into it, you admired your form in the mirror, secretly content by the way it hung across your curves, ecen accentuating your curves. You couldn't help but secretly think of Thomas Shelby's reaction when he saw you in this dress.

You were startled when your phone started ringing, pulling you out of your not so in innocent thoughts about your own boss. When you saw his name flash on your lockscreen, you couldn't help but frown. Reluctantly, you tapped on the talk icon, flinging the phone to your ears, "Yes, Mr. Shelby?"

"Grey or black? Red tie or navy blue? I can't fucking decide what to wear. Why is it the fucking weekend [Y/N]. I don't fucking know what to wear," he sounded exasperated and worked up on the other side of the phone and you couldn't help but chuckle silently, silently enjoying this. You knew this would happen.

"The grey with the blue tie, Mr. Shelby, you can make any girl crazy in the grey tux of yours," you smiled, aimlessly drawing your fingers through your hair. You didn't know how you got that courage to openly flirt with him, but you didn't stop yourself from doing it. What suprised you was the fact that Tommy only let you do it. After a minute of silence, he hummed and you could hear him practically pull his tux off the hanger and he murmured, "the grey one it is then."

You kept the phone to your ear, not wanting to disconnect even though he wasn't speaking to you. Oddly enough, even in the silence that lingered on that call, you felt a sense on intimacy, something that you didn't want to let go off, as you grabbed your lipstick and using your free hand, began applying it delicately to your lips.

"What are you wearing?" Tommy's voice reached your ears, and you couldn't help but bite into the insides of your cheeks, feeling giddy in your chest.

"Navy blue dress I wore at the office party, Mr. Shelby. I can change if you want, it's a little too much, don't you think?" You nervously babbled.

"No, keep it on. It compliments my tie."

You smiled upon listening to his words, and just like that, without a parting, Tommy disconnected, sliding his phone into his pocket, his fingers toying with the fabric of his navy blue tie. Even if he was bent of wearing the red one silently, he was now going to switch to the blue one, just because you were wearing blue.

"Miss, do you have a reservation?" The manager asked you, and you smiled courteously.

"Yes, it should be under a Mr. Thomas Shelby?" You replied, and the man immediately nodded and his eyes began scanning through the contents of the register in front of him.

"Ah, you must be Miss [Y/N]. Please follow me, we are delighted to have you," he slowly turned away from you, and you began following him through the open air restaurant, where archaic white gazebos stood tall, adorned with fairy lights, and inside the gazebos were comfortable tables and dine in facilities.

Tommy was finally in sight. He was at the farthest gazebo that stood directly beside the narrow stream, that shone due to the moonlight falling on it.

It wasn't Tommy that captured your attention though, it was the woman dressed in a beautiful red evening dress, her perfectly toned legs covered in sheer black stockings. Her long black hair fell lusciously over her shoulders as she threw back her head and laughed at something Thomas probably said. What made you a tiny bit of jealous was the fact that the two of them looked like they were long time friends; Tommy rarely smiled, and especially never in the open.

You cleared your throat a little too loudly and Tommy turned towards you, and so did the woman in the red dress. You couldn't help but think how beautiful the woman was.

"Tatiana, this is my secretary [Y/N]. She will be going through the final papers and the other formalities," Tommy blinked, his palm ghosting the low of your back as he guided you into an empty chair and you sat down, smiling at Tatiana.

"[Y/N], this is my friend, and soon to be business partner, Tatiana Petrovna," You watched from the corner of your eye as Tommy leaned towards her and he placed his hand on her thigh. You grabbed the fabric of your dress, awkwardly balling the fabric along your fists, although shielded by the table.

The business meeting lasted for an hour, and by the time the three of you were done, half of the restaurant had gotten empty.

"It was a pleasure meeting you once again, Thomas, and even a greater pleasure doing business with you," she gave Tommy her hand and they shook it. You noted how the handshake lingered for a little longer than it was supposed to. Thomas stood up, but you kept seated, as you watched the woman turn away and began strutting down the garden path, towards a massive black SUV parked by the other side.

After a minute of silence, Tommy sighed and he sat down, his earlier jolly expression having dissipated into thin air. He pulled out a cigarette box from the pocket of his tux and brought it up to his lips, flicking you a quick glance.

"You alright?"

"Me? Oh I am more than alright, Mr. Shelby. It's a lovely night, and I'm sitting at one of the loveliest places in Birmingham, with such a lovely company," you deadpanned, giving him a stare down.

"You don't look happy to be here, love," he brought the lit cigarette to his lips, inhaling smoke from it as he eyed you carefully. One of the waiters stepped forward, clearing his throat and you saw that he had a bottle of wine in his hands. Tommy blinked and motioned to the waiter to fill up the glasses and once he had left, his fingers curled against his glass and he lifted it, taking a sip of it.

"Oh, Mr. Shelby, I am delighted to be here, don't you see that? Can we leave?" You arched forward, letting your elbows rest against the table, your glass of wine laying untouched.

Tommy parted his lips, as though he wanted to say something but before words came out, he pressed his lips shut and stood up, grabbing his coat that hung from the back of his chair, "Alright, I'll drop you home yeah? Come on."

Tommy and you quietly walked back to his car and you got into the passenger's seat as Tommy got into the drivers. He slowly pulled the car off the driveway and began driving towards your apartment.

You were still fuming; raging from the inside as you kept glancing at the silhouettes of the buildings passing you by.

"What is the matter with you, ey?" Tommy suddenly turned towards you, lowering the speed of the car and moving it to the side so he could slowly bring the vehicle to a halt.

"Nothing is. Can we please keep moving, Mr. Shelby? I don't have all night," you hissed venomously at him and he just ran his hand through his hair, exasperated. He didn't know what had gotten into you suddenly.

He suddenly reached for your arm and pulled you forcefully towards him, his eyes gazing into yours, "Will you answer me? What the fuck is the matter with you?"

"Oh, nothing's the matter with me, Mr. Shelby. I don't get why you had me over that wretched little romantic dinner as a third wheel when there weren't even enough notes to make," you blurted out the entire sentence in one go, firing the words at him so fast that it took him a minute to digest them.

"Wait, romantic?" He tilted his head slightly, and his index came to rest on his chin for a second before he sat back against the car seat again, "you think me and Tatiana..?"

"Don't spill your romantic or your sexual endeavours in front of me, Mr. Shelby, Im just a lowly secretary," you fumed, and Tommy couldn't help but feel his lips twitch in amusement at how adorably cute you looked when you were angry and jealous.

"Well, now to think of it, eh, we did have some good fucks a few years back," Tommy muttered, in a low voice. Although he knew this would most probably not end very well, but a devil inside of him was already rising, and your jealousy had given birth to a sudden desire in him to have you spill everything you felt for him to him.

You gasped, your jaw dropping as you turned to him, studying his face. Your hand flew to the car lock, and you unlocked it, immediately stepping out of the vehicle, and Tommy cursed under his breath when he realized that he had probably taken it too far. By the time, he stepped out after you, you had already drawn your phone out, and you were trying to book an Uber when he snatched your phone.

"Get into the fucking car, [Y/N]."

"Give me my phone back, Mr. Shelby, I am not in the mood to do this," you threw out your hand, nudging him to hand you your phone.

He was ready to give you back your phone but before he could, his thumb mistakenly pressed on to the power button, and your phone lit up, your cheeks turning a scarlet red when he saw your lockscreen that had his photo on it.

"Wait, am I your lockscreen?” he looked at you smugly, and you couldn't help but feel embarrassed at the sight of it. Great job done [Y/N].

"You weren't supposed to see that," you whispered, tonguing the insides on your cheeks, flustered.

This time he gave you a smile that was gentler than what he had ever given you. He handed you your phone back, and decided not to tease you about the lockscreen.

"Get into the car, [Y/N], please?" He looked into your eyes, his eyes beckoning yours to listen, and you groaned, nodding. He opened the car door for you once again, and quietly you sat down inside, crossing your arms over your chest.

It was as if he knew that you were in no mood to talk, because he didn't force you to. Quietly, he manoeuvred the vehicle through the cuts and turns and you let your head rest against the windowpane. Within seconds, you were drifting into a light sleep.

About ten minutes later, Tommy pled up on your driveway, but even the car coming to a halt wasn't enough to break your slumber. He slowly turned to look at you, and the sight of you was enough to melt his heart. Reluctantly he brought his shaky palm up to the side of your face as he pushed your hair off the side of it, his fingers gentle against you. You stirred slightly, your eyes fluttering awake as Tommy smiled to himself, whispering, "I think you might be my soulmate, eh, if there is a concept of one. I'd like to believe you're my fucking soulmate." It was so low, you couldn't hear any of it.

"We're here," he announced, louder and clearer this time and you took this as a hint to get the fuck out of his car.

"Thank you, Mr. Shelby, I'll see you at work tomorrow," hurriedly you got out of the car and before Tommy could utter another word, you ran down the side of the apartment towards the side staircase that led to your first floor apartment.

Tommy kept watching as you saw you cash up the flight of stairs, struggling to fish out your bunch of house keys from your purse. He watched as you unlocked the front door and stepped in, hurriedly slamming the door shut.

He kept sitting in the car, and finally turned the ignition on.

"Fuck," he cursed as he turned the ignition off, pulled the car keys out and got out of the car. With big steps, he strode towards the side staircase, from where you had just ran up a few seconds back and reached your doorstep, bringing himself to ring the bell. He waited nervously, tapping the wall awkwardly with his fingers until you opened the door.

He pushed himself inside the minute you opened the door, kicking the door shut behind him.

"Why are you here?" You bit back on your words, trembling slightly. He could see that your eyes were red and puffy, and that you had been crying.

"Were you crying love?" He asked, trying to reach for you. He grabbed your wrists, pulling you towards him.

"You're insane," you whispered, your eyes planted to his lips, but you dared not look up and look into his eyes.

Gently, he let go of your wrist, and instead, placed his palm on the low of your back to hold you steady in his arms, "You love me." He rasped, in a low voice that caused your lips to part.

"Not right now I don't, Mr. Shelby," you spat at him, feeling your eyes start getting cloudy again. To be fair, you were feeling stupid, and embarassed at yourself, for reacting this way, showing him how weak and vulnerable you were, but you couldn't help it. You couldn't stop thinking of Tatiana and Tommy, and the more you did, the more angrier you got. You looked away.

"Look at me, love," Tommy chastised you, placing his hand on the base of your chin as he tried lifting your face up, but you dodged his hand and glared at him,"You're not my boss in here, Mr. Shelby. This is my house."

He gave you a tight lipped smile, and his palm reached out to cup your face, his fingers tracing the outline of your lips. He parted his lips, and fluttered his eyes close, letting an exhale out, before fluttering his blues open again, "this fire within you will be the fucking death of me someday, woman." You curled your lips slightly, licking the insides of your mouth and your nostrils flared, "Shouldn't you be with your business partner? Shagging the fuck out of her? You seem to be at the wrong apartment."

Tommy growled, pushing you to the wall; his knee coming to press against the wall, between the space of your legs. His hands fixed on either side of your head, barring you from escaping.

"Can you shut up for once in your life? I did not fuck Tatiana, ever, yeah?" He looked down into your eyes, and you glared into his, wondering if he was lying.

"You.. didn't?"

"I didn't. And I don't intend to, in the future," he said, in his low husky voice. You fluttered your eyes shut and slowly, like a doe, lifted your face so your lips were now in line with his. You parted your lips, waiting for him to kiss you. He took the hint, a ghost of a smirk forming against his lips as he brought the distance to a close, his plump lips pressing against yours as he kissed you by the wall, "now let's not talk of her now yeah? I would rather spend my night in your bed than stand out here, talking about a woman that doesn't interest me."

"then what interests you?" You smirked.

"You do. You interest me, love."

Your cheeks hurt and your eyes leaked water; tears of happiness flew openly from your eyes. You were dressed in a beautiful black evening gown and your son, Charlie, held your palm, his eyes everywhere but on his father as he walked up to the podium to where the microphone was.

You knelt down gracefully, tickling your son lightly on his Adam's apple, and murmured, "Look, Charlie, your daddy is up there, would you look?"

"Dada!" Charlie babbled, and you hoisted him up and fixed him on your hip as your eyes met Tommy's and he gave you a nod, his eyes twinkling.

"Ladies and gentlemen, I thank you all for coming. You see tonight, eh, is a very special night for me. And I am pleased to announce my endeavours first with you—" He found your eyes again, and you smiled at him, wondering what he was referring to. Ever since you found out you were pregnant with Charlie, two years back, you had decided to quit your job.

"I am pleased to announce [Y/N] and Charles Shelby Center for senior citizens," Tommy turned slightly so he could move out of the way and a huge projector began showing the architectural designs of a massive modern looking building on the screen.

Your heart swelled with pride as you watched your husband gracefully walk down the stairs. People came and greeted him, shaking hands with him, and he stopped momentarily to greet them back. You tickled Charlie's belly as you began striding towards where he was.

Tommy threw out his hand towards you and you gladly accepted, as he pulled you to his side, planting a quick kiss on Charlie's forehead. You lifted your neck up high and you and Tommy posed for a few pictures, and soon the cameras left you alone with him. He leaned closer to you and smiled, "Did you like it, love? I've been planning it since I saw you that day, four years back, helping out in the rain. You were beautiful. "

"You saw that, Tommy? Is that why you didn't even scold me for being late?" You gasped, and he smirked, nodding.

"No wonder I kept thinking that something was wrong with you, Mr. Shelby."

He suddenly turned around and his right arm came to rest on the low of your back as he pulled you to him. On one hip, you adjusted your son, who was now struggling to get into his daddy's arms; you placed your free hand on Tommy's chest and patted it before grabbing his tie, "If there was something bloody wrong with me, why would you still choose me as your husband and then gift me with a lovely boy?"

"Well, because, Mr. Shelby, I love you, and wouldn't trade our family for anything."

[graymatters]

i’ve been thinking about wizarding roller derby? idfk

For @drarrymicrofic​‘s prompt, Guess I’m Jaded, but I mostly was inspired by the lines in the song with profanity 😂

Lee needs to take it easy on the Sonorous next time, Harry thinks as the pre-game announcements echo loudly in the enclosed arena. The static of the anxious crowd is a constant undercurrent as Lee Jordan thanks the teams’ sponsors and begins his run through the starting line-ups.

When Lee calls Harry’s name as the final starter for the Bombarding Banshees, the crowd roars, igniting neon lights at the tips of their wands raised above their heads. The lights flash pink and purple and orange in disorienting waves around the darkened arena. Harry can only roll his eyes before he turns to Dean as he laces up his skates on the bench beside him.

“You’d think I could catch a break from all that worshipping shit here… Who the fuck cares about roller derby?”

“You’re a professional athlete now; no chance, mate,” Dean snorts. “There’s talk of making derby the national sport.”

“Guess I’m fucked, then,” Harry says before turning to the opposite side of the arena. In the middle of the Thrashing Thestrals’ huddle, a flash of white blond hair, dusted with pink neon powder, catches Harry’s eye.

“Something got your attention?” Dean asks with a cheeky grin. “Or someone? You’re a Banshee first, tonight, Harry.”

“Shut the fuck up, Dean.”

“Captains to the floor,” Lee announces overhead. Harry tilts his neck back and forth, coaxing several cracks of cartilage before taking awkward steps on his skates to the break in the barrier around the banked track.

From the opposite side of the rink, Draco gracefully skates to join Harry at the center of the rink, neon pink hair glowing under the bluelight charm that coats the rink. His pointed face is exaggerated with the skull-like face paint that creates deep, black hollows at his cheeks, under his eyes, and at his temples. But he somehow still manages to look attractive through the thick smear of paint. It almost makes Harry feel silly with his own bright orange and purple stripes over his cheeks. Almost.

“Harry.” 

“Draco.”

“Your paint is smudged.”

“Wonder whose fault that is.”

“Hope it was worth it?” Draco asks with a playful lift to his brow.

“Oh, it most definitely was…” Harry smirks, crossing his arms over his chest and sinking into his hip.

“Ready to give them a show?”

“Always,” Harry smiles. He leans onto the tip of his skate to whisper in Draco’s ear. “Someone conveniently left my jersey in the wash this morning.”

Draco leans back, feigning dismay with an elegant hand splayed across his chest. “Is that an accusation, Mr. Potter?” He holds his left hand between them, making a show for the audience as he removes his wedding band and hands it to the ref who stands beside them. The roar of the crowd vibrates in Harry’s chest.

“A fact, Mr. Potter,” Harry smirks, dramatically following Draco’s lead in handing his ring to the referee. “No holding back.”

“Have you ever known me to go easy on you?” Draco drawls as he reaches forward to shake Harry’s hand. He puckers his lips in a mock kiss before releasing his grip. With a flourish of his wrist, Draco conjures his helmet and skates backward towards his team as they enter the rink. Through it all, Draco manages to hold Harry’s eye in a way that still makes Harry’s chest flutter like he’s on a first date.

The ref doesn’t wait for Harry to move before she blows her whistle to summon the starters from both teams. With the flick of her wand, the referee paints neon stars on Harry and Draco’s helmets before proceeding to distribute Fizzing Whizbees to each player. Officially marked as the jammers, Harry and Draco take their spots behind the already-jostling pack.

“Pop!” The ref yells at the line of players, each of them obeying by tossing the sherbet-flavored candy into their mouths. Harry disregards the extended-release coating on the candy, crunching down hard and feeling the fizzy carbonation tickle his tongue. His roller skates immediately lift to hover several inches off the ground.

“Behave back there, gentlemen,” Dean yells over his shoulder from his place in the center of the pack.

“Mind your own business, Thomas,” Draco shouts back. “First night as the pivot, hm? Think you can handle it?”

“Piss off, Malfoy.”

“Oy, it’s piss off, Potter, please,” Draco says. “Show some respect.”

“Set!” The ref calls.

Harry can only roll his eyes, heart thrumming in his throat as he anxiously waits for the signal to start.

In the split second before the final whistle, Draco leans over to ghost his breath over Harry’s ear. “You look hot tonight, by the way. I left your jersey in the wash so you’d have to wear the tighter shirt,” he whispers with a mischievous lilt to his voice. “Loser does the dishes tonight?”

Harry reaches to brush his fingers over the gauzy fabric at Draco’s waist before settling into his starting position. As the starting whistle sounds, he flashes a smile in agreement and drives ahead of Draco to begin his violent fight through the pack.

[nanasparadise]

“Your musketeer in a blue tunic” Yan! Polnareff x female reader (musketeer AU)

Hiya everyone! As promised, here is a Yan! Polnareff writing, since he was in the top four of the poll for the special but hasn’t reached the top three. I thought it might be a fun idea to make him a musketeer and now I’ve realised this fic turned out to be low-key a Belle and Gaston situation from Beauty and the Beast lmao. Anyway, there might be historical inaccuracies in the story, I’m sorry for that.

Summary: You’re a farmer woman in 18th century France and a certain musketeer keeps crossing paths with you…

TW: toxic relationship, noncon kiss, low-key harassment, forced marriage, MATURE AUDIENCE ONLY/MINORS DNI

I do not condone any yandere behaviour in real life.

Word count: 3900

“Just about half an hour and I’ll be there”, you mumble to yourself. 

The pouring rain drenches your whole form, an icy cold having already nested deep in your bones. But you can’t stop now, even if it’s raining cats and dogs. You know you have to arrive to the main market place, which is located a good three hours from the farm you live in. If the wool – which you hope isn’t too wet, knowing the burlap bags aren’t protecting it well from the rain – won’t be sold today, you don’t know how you could afford some bread for your family. You think of your little siblings, how they always stare at you with big eyes, expecting at least some crumbs of stale bread in order to satiate their hunger a bit. Your heart aches painfully at that mental image. No, you’re going to sell the wool at all cost, no matter if it means you get sick due to the weather. You owe it to your loved ones, needing to protect and provide for them as the oldest sibling. 

A chilly wind blows intensely into your face, making you shiver even more. Lucky for you, no other person is currently on the road, meaning you’re in safety. You’re aware about how many sketchy men lurk in these streets by the countryside, just waiting for a young woman like yourself to pass by and to do God knows what with her. As a protection measure, you always carry a knife with you, hidden in your boot. Fortunately, you haven’t needed to use it, yet…

Suddenly, you hear the footsteps of a horse approaching you, the characteristic sounds of its hooves drawing closer to you. Your first instinct is to immediately pull out your knife, but you refrain yourself. 

“It’s probably just another merchant who wants to go to the market, too”, you think, comforting yourself. And even if that shouldn’t be the case, it would be wiser to take your possible aggressor by surprise with an attack if needed. 

The steps are now dangerously close to you, too close for your liking, until they come to a halt. Surprised, you stop your walking as well and look up to the person on the horse. Next to you on his steed is a man around your age, probably a few years older, with peculiar silver hair and bright blue eyes. Through his uniform, consisting of a characteristic blue tunic with a white cross on it, you immediately recognise the stranger as a King’s musketeer. You hastily curtsy and meekly avert your gaze, given that he’s of a higher social rank. Why would a musketeer want from you, a farmer? 

“Good day, Monsieur”, you greet the musketeer politely. 

“Good day, Mademoiselle”, the stranger answers jovially. “Please forgive my intervention, but what does a young lady like you travel alone on such a dangerous road?”, he asks you, sincere concern marking his voice. 

Why would he care? And why would he refer to you as a lady when you’re clearly just a commoner? You get the sudden urge to grab your knife again, but of course your rational brain side hinders you from doing so.

“I’m only going to the market place, good sir. I’d like to sell some wool”, you explain shortly, your eyes still not meeting the stranger’s. 

“All alone?”, the Frenchman wonders. 

“I’m afraid I don’t have much of a choice, Monsieur. My father has to work on the farm and my mother looks after my younger siblings”, you reply truthfully. Honestly, you’d prefer not giving too much information away to the stranger, but lying doesn’t seem like a safe option either. 

“I see, Mademoiselle,” the musketeer utters politely, “in that case, I’d be pleased to escort you to the market place. After all, my heart couldn’t handle if something happened to a damsel.” 

“Thank you for your generous offer, Monsieur”, you answer civilly, curtsying gracefully again. Though internally, you sigh and roll your eyes at the Frenchman’s words. 

“More like his ego couldn’t handle getting rejected by a common woman”, you ponder cynically. You’re about to continue your walking as the stranger stops your action abruptly. 

“Wait a moment, Mademoiselle,” he shouted hastily, “I’ll take your bags and settle them on my horse.” The silver-haired man dismounts from his white horse and takes the bags filled with wool from your hands, placing and tying them on the animal’s back. 

“You are far too kind, Monsieur”, you say with an overly sweet voice. Lucky for you, the stranger doesn’t seem to notice the hint of sarcasm hidden in your tone. Instead, he smiles brightly at you, revealing a row of impeccable white teeth. 

“As a musketeer, it’s my duty to help a lady in need”, he boasts proudly. Again, you fight the urge to roll your eyes. “Ah, how rude of me, Mademoiselle, I haven’t properly introduced myself. My name is Jean-Pierre Polnareff, I’m delighted to make your acquaintance, Miss…?” 

“Y/N L/N”, you reply meekly. 

“What a lovely name, Milady.”

~

The pair of you have been walking silently side by side for a while. You simply wish to arrive as fast as possible to the market place, wanting to get rid of Polnareff’s present. After some time, the stormy weather has changed into a brighter, more pleasant sky. Though some sun rays peek through the clouds, the cold from the previous rain remains. Upon seeing your slightly quivering form, Polnareff offers you a blanket he has in his supplies with him. Politely, you decline his offer. You certainly don’t want to be more in the debt of such a high ranking man. 

“I apologise if this may come across as rude, Mademoiselle Y/N, but I couldn’t help but notice that there isn’t a ring on your finger”, the musketeer suddenly mentions. The hairs on your arms stand up at his observation and you instinctively straighten your back. If Polnareff has seen your discomfort, he still chooses to continue speaking. “And you’ve said previously you’re living with your family on a farm. How come such a fair maiden like you isn’t married yet? I reckon you must have many suitors.” Something about his tone and the dangerous gleam in his blue eyes sets you on edge. 

“Oh, I do have had some suitors in the past,” you answer truthfully, but cautiously, “but I’ve chosen to not marry. My family needs me and I don’t wish to let them down.” Polnareff gives you a tender glance, the prying shimmer being replaced with sympathy now. 

“Maybe you’ll soon find a wealthy man who’s able to help your family out”, he mumbles softly, though you still could hear his words. 

“I’d rather not base my life on such an improbable dream. After all, I’m just a common farmer,” you say, slightly amused. “He doesn’t have a clue how life’s for a commoner, does he?” 

“So you’d like to marry? It’s your dream, didn’t you say that, Mademoiselle?”, Polnareff counters, hope swinging in his voice. Why is he hopeful? But you decide to not voice this thought. 

“Well, that’s quite a difficult question, Monsieur Polnareff,” you retort,  feeling unsure now “it would be the wisest choice for me to marry, but at the moment, I feel content to take care of my family.” For some reason, the musketeer’s face falls at your last sentence. Disappointment takes over it instead, his lips turning into a bitter, thin line. 

“Ah, I see”, he replies wearily. You immediately notice the change of atmosphere, though you don’t comment on it. Instead, you two continue strolling in silence.

Eventually, the pair of you arrive at the market place. During your travel, none of you spoke further, the mood being too tense and awkward. You settle your burlap bags on the floor on a free spot after the silver-haired man has removed them from his horse for you. 

“My sincerest thanks, Monsieur Polnareff.” You bow politely. Even though your eyes have been trained on the floor for only a matter of seconds, some stealthy thief has been able to snatch one of your bags. Immediately, your head leaps up. 

“Hey, this belongs to me! Give it back!”, you scream angrily. You wouldn’t let some trickster take your wool, not after working so hard for your family! You’re ready to run after the knave, but a hand on your forearm hinders you from doing so. 

“Let me handle this, Mademoiselle Y/N,” Polnareff says confidently, “you’ll have your merchandise back in no time. Just wait for me here.” Quickly, the musketeer dashes into an alleyway after the thief. Confused, you’re left alone at the market place, the man’s horse being your only companion. A sigh rolls off your lips. 

“Guess I’ll have to do what he says if I ever want that wool back”, you exclaim exasperatedly. This is the last thing you’ve needed today. First, you’ve been drenched by the rain, then a weird musketeer has started following you and asking you eerily invasive question and now your precious goods have been stolen. In the meantime, you try your best to sell the remaining wool.

After half an hour, you still haven’t sold any wool at all. Though you were definitely drawing attention on you by shouting out some offers, no one has seemed to be interested yet. No one even cared enough to look towards your direction. 

“I guess I’ll just have to stay all day, then”, you think gloomily. From the corner of your eyes, you notice an all too familiar form approaching you, though this time with a bag in his hand. 

“Mademoiselle Y/N!”, Polnareff shouts excitedly, “I’ve retrieved your bag from the thief!” A sincere expression of gratitude appears on your face. Yes, the man is more than annoying to you with his clingy behaviour, but at least he was chasing the trickster for you! 

“Thank you so much, Monsieur Polnareff!”, you exclaim happily, relieved to have your wool back. Now there’s only the matter of selling it left… 

“Of course, nothing to thank for, Mademoiselle! I’d never want to see such a charming lady like you in need.” 

Purposefully, you ignore his statement, an awkward feeling bubbling up in you. Instead you’re thanking him again. All the while, the Frenchman keeps staring at you with a look of fondness, a huge and proud smile adorning his face. In his mind, he’s just proven to you how capable he is of taking care of you and your family. How could you refuse him now? He’s literally your knight in shining armour! Or your musketeer in a blue tunic. It doesn’t matter, he’s practically your hero! 

Polnareff’s grin only widens at the thought of you swooning over him. The silver-haired man doesn’t know why he feels like this towards you. Maybe it’s because you just looked so pitiful when he saw you on that road, soaking wet from the rain. Maybe it’s his pride that doesn’t let him relent. Maybe it’s the way your eyes sparked with determination and love when you talked about your family. Maybe it’s your radiant atmosphere, which draws him in like a moth. Maybe you’re secretly a witch who put a love spell on his poor self, making him a fool for you after having only met you. Maybe, maybe, maybe…  

Polnareff quickly stops his pondering. “It’s not of importance,” he muses, “as long as she’ll realise I’m the best choice for her.”

“I see you haven’t sold any of your goods yet”, the musketeer says, trying to sound casually. Though in his thoughts, he already has a plan schemed. 

“No, unfortunately not,” you reply, an exasperated sigh following swiftly, “but there’s still some time left until I have to return home. Surely, I’ll be able to sell some.” 

“You know, Mademoiselle Y/N, I’d rather not see you standing here all day, maybe even for it to be in vain,” Polnareff utters, concerning coating his voice, “let me help you, I’ll buy the wool.” Your eyes grow big at his proposition. Even though it’s more than a generous offer, especially after all he’s been through for you today, you can’t help but feeling alerted. Why would he go all these lengths for you? He can’t be that kind, there must be something he wants in return. 

“You’re far too generous, Monsieur Polnareff. I can’t accept such an offer”, you tell the musketeer, hoping he’ll actually drop his suggestion. But the Frenchman remains stubborn as a mule. 

“Ah ah Mademoiselle,” he tuts you condescendingly, “I’m a man of my word. How much would you like? Are two livres enough?”

Your eyes widen so much at his offer, you wouldn’t be surprised if your eyeballs fell out. Two livres? Is that man insane? The wool is hardly five sous worth! 

“I think you must have meant two sous, Monsieur Polnareff,” you answer him, still shocked. 

“Pas du tout, Mademoiselle. Two livres is what I said and what I meant. Or would you maybe want more?” 

Vehemently, you shake your head. Two livres… That would feed your family for at least three months! “No Y/N, you can’t take this offer!” Your thoughts interrupt you suddenly. Not only does your conscience forbid you from doing so, your parents would also wonder where all that money comes from. They might assume you’ve stolen it as no one would believe a stranger to be so kind to just give a random farmer way too much money. 

“Monsieur Polnareff,” you try again to change his mind, “I really don’t think you should-“ 

“Ah, there’s my pouch!”, the silver-haired man exclaims happily, ignoring your previous words. Eagerly, he takes two shiny coins out of it, pressing them in your palm. Admitting your defeat, you curtsy and express your deep gratitude again. Though a small part inside you does enjoy the fact of getting provided for.

After your exchange, Polnareff insisted on bringing you home again. You dislike the idea of him knowing exactly where you live, but that man’s stubbornness and pride is bigger than the Palace of Versailles. Which is why the two of you are walking back to your farm, the wool resting on Polnareff’s horse’s back. 

“What are you doing with all the wool, if I may ask?”, you say with a questioning look on your face, “Surely, a musketeer doesn’t need to fabricate his own clothes.” The Frenchman rubs sheepishly behind his neck and offers you a smile. 

“Ah Mademoiselle, you see, I might just donate it. I’ve just wanted to help you out, I don’t need it myself.” Even though you still cannot bring yourself to trust him, your heart warms at his statement. 

“That’s indeed very noble of you, Monsieur Polnareff”, you reply candidly. The musketeer sends you another bright grin, a subtle blush forming on his pale cheeks.

The sun has begun to set as the two of you arrive on the farm. With a polite curtsy, you’re ready to finally return home, excited to tell your family the good news regarding the money. But Polnareff stops your goodbye. His hand finds its way to your wrist, halting your movement. 

“Before we must depart, Mademoiselle Y/N,” he counters hastily, “I’d like to be assured that we’ll meet again soon. I find myself enthralled by your presence.” 

Your heart beats faster at his proposition. Suddenly, you realise the dangerous situation you’re in, the big hand capturing your smaller wrist. Could you really deny him without facing consequences? Thoughts like these rush through your head as the man in front of you keeps waiting for your reaction. Still, you’re going to try. If something should happen, you still have your knife with you and your father would surely rush out once he hears your screams. 

“Monsieur Polnareff,” you start hesitantly, “I’m deeply flattered by your words. You are truly an admirable and honourable man whose kind actions shall always carry my most sincere gratitude. Though I must admit, I don’t think it would be a wise idea to meet again.” The Frenchman makes a crestfallen face at your words. You feel almost bad for him. “Ah, I think I should explain myself further. Well, Monsieur Polnareff, we are of two different social classes, continuing mingling with me would put a bad reputation on you. I cannot offer you something of interest. Plus, I like staying with my family so far, this is my home.” 

“Y/N”, Polnareff whispers affectionately, his thumb rubbing softly on the inside of your wrist. You shoot him a surprised look, confused by him dropping the formal title. If anyone would have heard this, they’d turn it into a scandal. 

“I know my offer might appear strange to you, but I wish to marry out of love one day. I’m aware it’s fairly uncommon and even looked upon with scorn to marry below someone’s station, but the matters of the heart outshine the matters of the mind in my case. I have more than enough money, a comfortable estate and an honourable title. So you’re correct by saying you can’t offer me anything. Though you forgot one important thing, dear Y/N: you can offer me companionship, love, a meaningful bond between two souls.” Upon his last sentence, Polnareff tenderly grabs both of your hands in his, admiring how they seem to fit perfectly. Too astounded by his words, you let the man do as he pleases. Quickly, Polnareff catches on with his speech. “Please Y/N, let me see you again. Let me court you properly. I can give you and your family a beautiful life, a life you deserve.” The silver-haired male’s form moves now closer to yours, his blue eyes fixated on your lips. This action breaks you from the spell you’ve been caught in previously as you abruptly rip your hands off his grip and step back. 

“I’m sorry, Monsieur Polnareff,” you manage to say, your voice sounding breathless from the adrenaline rushing in your veins, “I don’t think I’m the right woman for you. I do not wish to disappoint you further, that’s why I’m being direct with you. I’m going home now, please do not seek out for me. Have a good evening, Monsieur Polnareff.” You give him one last glance, noting his furious facial expression, before you eventually walk rapidly the path up to your family’s farm. 

“I’ll be coming back, Mademoiselle Y/N!”, you hear the musketeer shouting behind you, “I’m not giving up that easily!” His sentences only make you pick up your pace as fear makes itself present in your body. Why couldn’t he just respect your choice? You’re sure there are enough suitable ladies in his rank pining for him, so why would he bother you? Finally, to your happiness, you arrive at the front door. Quickly, you enter your home, locking the door from the inside. Still, it feels as if a pair of blue eyes continues burning holes in your back…

The following month had been both positive and negative. Positive, because your family didn’t need to worry about food thanks to the two livres Polnareff gave you. Negative, because the latter had been true to his word and kept showing up at your place. Every time you told him you won’t change your mind, the musketeer only seemed to be more encouraged to prove you otherwise. 

Today isn’t any different. As you make your way to the market to buy some food, you hear the familiar hooves approaching you. Annoyed, you let out a sigh and roll your eyes. 

“Bonjour Y/N! What a pleasant day to see you again, mon amour!”, Polnareff exclaims happily while he dismounts from his horse to walk next to you. 

“Bonjour Polnareff”, you reply politely. In the meantime, you’ve dropped the titles when you two were alone, not seeing the point of them anymore. Plus, the Frenchman even decides to call you pet names, so why showing him respect? 

“Ah, ma puce, no need to be so cold today! After all, I bring some splendid news”, the Frenchman replies excitedly. You eye him suspiciously, brows knitted together. What on earth is he planning now?  

“And that would be?”, you answer matter-of-factly. “You’re finally leaving me alone?” 

“You see, before I came to meet you, I’ve finally talked with your parents.” At these words, you immediately stop your steps. A feeling of dread emerges in your stomach, making you feel sick. 

“Oh no,” you think desperately, “this can’t be good.” 

“Very lovely people, indeed. It hurts my feelings knowing you haven’t invited me to them, mon cœur”, Polnareff continues his talk, a hand put on his chest in mock concern. 

“And why should I have done such thing?”, you reply coolly, though internally you’re freaking out. You already know you won’t like the answer… 

“My dearest, how come you act so cruel? Don’t you think your future husband should see your parents? After all, we’re betrothed now!” 

“No”, you retort without thinking. Your palms grow sweaty, a deep fear manifesting in your body. The silver-haired man smirks at your reaction. 

“Non? I think your parents disagree with you, ma chérie. In fact, we’ve already picked out a date for the ceremony. Can you believe it? In two months, we’ll be finally one.” Panic overflows your mind, your breathing becoming laboured. How could your parents decide on such a matter behind your bag? After everything you’ve done for your family? Polnareff notices your stress as he softly wraps his arms around your waist and pulls you close to his chest. The musketeer tries to comfort you by shushing you and gently brushing over your back, though his actions only fuel your terror. You squirm in his grasp, trying to escape him, escape this situation, but his grip on you only strengthens. 

“Let me go!”, you scream all while tears stream down your cheeks, “I don’t want to be with you! Why can’t you just accept that?” 

“My little Y/N,” Polnareff mumbles calmly, “if you hadn’t  been so stubborn, we could have discussed the wedding plans together. I know you think our union is not favourable, but if even your family agrees to it, it surely can’t be that wrong, hm? You’re so blinded by your little provincial life that you can’t see what’s best for you. And trust me, my dove, I’m the best choice.” The Frenchman grabs your chin, staring lovingly in your by now puffy eyes. “It’s fine if you need some time to realise that. As long as you remain by my side.” With these words, the silver-haired man puts his mouth on yours, his hand now wandering to your cheek. You wriggle harder in his grasp, though your attempts to escape remain futile. Tenderly, Polnareff caresses your face as his lips finally leave yours. 

“Je t’aime de tout mon cœur, mon ange*”, he whispers adoringly, pressing your face against his chest again. Your tears smudge the blue fabric of his tunic, your voice hoarse from screaming. And even though you wish this is but a nightmare, you start comprehending you’re truly trapped in Polnareff’s oh so loving arms for the rest of your life.

*former French currency. 2 livres are about 30 euros, which was a lot of money back then

*former French currency. 5 sous are about 3,70 euros, which was still quite some money back in the day

*”I love you with all my heart, my angel”