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glo0b · 23 days

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~Cooking With Love~

(I do not own the art or character)

Content: Sebek x F!Yuu, other ocs are in this and as well as the other first years.

Tw: Some NSFW mentions, this was meant to be a nice fluff cooking fic but my depraved mind can't stop

word count: 2081

note: This took me FOREVER. I kept stopping and continuing so it might not be the best.

“Oh look, the Culinary Crucible sign ups are out again, maybe I could sign up to be a judge.” The five Ramshackle residents were walking down the halls of NRC, heading off to lunch like usual until Felix pointed out the Culinary Crucible sign ups. “Nya, I nearly died last time from Lilia’s cooking” Grim sat on Yuu’s head, it was his favorite spot since her hair was so fluffy. “How did Silver survive all those years with him? Perhaps it made his stomach stronger, I should test that out later, Mumble Mumble” There Donnie went with his evil scientist thoughts again and pulling out his notebook with info about everyone in the school, honestly how could that boy not be best friends with Rook at this point.

Yuu picked up the small paper that was stapled to the cork board, she noticed two familiar names sketched in pen on the parchment. “Hm looks like Floyd and Sebek would be the ones cooking. You may want to reconsider that thought, Felix.” Yuu couldn’t lie, she was slightly excited to see what Floyd and Sebek could do but also terrified of what the food would turn into. She did know a bit of both of their skill sets too. “That damn Eel? Jeeze I already gotta deal with his ass in the Basketball club! I bet he’d poison the food if he could!” Balik groans at the thought of having to see that wicked eel’s face cook for her. “Oh hush! Hmm, maybe I should sign up to be a judge.” Yuu quickly pushed away her fearful thoughts and signed the paper. “If you get a stomach ache from their food don’t come crying to me, henchmen!”

The thought of Sebek cooking for her was on Yuu’s mind all day. She giggled softly and smiled at the thought which started to freak her friends out a bit. “Yuu has been a little too bubbly than usual.” Epel bit into his BBQ, finally able to enjoy it since Vil or Rook weren’t nearby. “I scanned Yuu earlier and her heart rate seems to be more elevated than normal!” Ortho spoke, not eating since he didn’t need food but he still could eat it in a way since Idia gave him a new update! “I couldn’t smell any potions on her breath or anything so it could be something mental.” Jack was clueless to what could have happened to their sweet friend. “Do you think someone cursed her!? I’ll get revenge for Yuu!” Deuce looked like he was about to punch someone. “Wha- no! Who could possibly want to hurt Yuu? Let’s just ask Yuu what happened when she grabs her food.” Finally Ace was actually using his head to think, which if they weren't worried about Yuu, would have freaked the group out even more. "Alright, I'll calm down." Yuu grabbed her food and made her way to the rest of the first years with the other four behind her. Yuu places her tray down and sits next to Ace. “Hello big sis-” Before poor Ortho could greet Yuu he was interrupted by a very concerned Deuce. “Are you ok!? Did someone curse you?! Did you finally snap!?” Ace face palms. “Real nice on staying calm, Deuce.” Yuu raises her brow in suspicion but keeps her sweet smile. “Oh? What’s this now?” The first year group looks back at each other before Epel speaks up. “We’re just concerned since you’ve been acting a little off today….” The other Ramshackle residents finally joined the first years. “That’s just because she’s excited about being a judge for the upcoming Culinary crucible.” Donnie sits next to Ortho while Balik, Felix, and Grim sit next to or across from Yuu. “Really, you aren't getting it? Here’s another hint, loud knight of Diasomnia.” Small ‘Oooohs’ escape the boys’ lips as Donnie explains the reason behind Yuu's state.

Yuu covers her face in embarrassment. “That’s…not the reason..” Balik stabs her food with her fork repeatedly. “Really? Jeeze I can’t tell which one of you is more dense.” Felix rubs the back of his neck nervously. “Yeah, I gotta agree with Balik here.” Ortho stands up- well floats off the ground in excitement. “Maybe we could get you two together! Big brother was playing a game with the same premise the other day!”. “I don’t think that would work. The only thing that guy seems to think about is Malleus just like the only thing Grim thinks about is fancy tuna.” Ace snickers as he looks over at Grim devouring a can of tuna in Yuu’s lap. “Nya?! Hey!” Yuu glares at Ace and he stops right away. “That’s a really sweet idea, Ortho, but I’m not sure it’s the best idea right now.” Ortho looks slightly disappointed but nods his head in understatement. “Ok big Sis! I’ll still make a plan though!”

The first years continue to talk but soon lunch comes to an end. “Man, I got P.E next. I better go now so I can get changed.” Felix whines as he grabs his empty tray and leaves. Everyone else starts to get up as well and leave for their classes. Yuu holds Grim in her arms as she walks with Ace, Deuce, and Donnie. “Oooh~ We got Alchemy next” Donnie smirks knowing he’ll get an easy 100%. “Don’t act so smug just because you’ve got slightly better grades than us!” Grim kicks his little feet causing Donnie to laugh his unsettling clown-like laugh. “Slightly? Oh please, you’ve gotten Ds and Cs on every test from Professor Crewel!” Donnie’s smirk grows even bigger as he knows Grim can’t make a well backed up argument. hours pass and classes slowly finish up for the day. “Yawn I really wish P.E didn’t kick my ass.” Felix rubs his sore arms. “Maybe it’s just because you’re weak and have little muscle on your bones.” Felix glares at Balik. “Be quiet, will you! You’re hurting my ears!” Grim interrupts their arguing before it could get any more heated. The two glare at each other before shutting up. “Hey, isn't the Culinary Crucible supposed to start tomorrow?” Donnie quickly changes the subject to make sure Balik and Felix don’t start arguing again. “Huh? Oh, yeah. It’s meant to be taking place before lunch, I think.”. Grim pouts. “Why can’t I get free food too! No fair!” Yuu giggles at Grim’s whines. The five reach their dorm and soon settle in for the night awaiting the brand new day full of opportunities to come. A certain half fae walks past the school cork board covered in flyers for clubs and what not, he looks down at the Culinary Crucible sheet. “So she has signed up to be a judge….I’LL DO MORE THAN MY VERY BEST FOR BOTH THE YOUNG MASTER AND YUU!” Sebek hurries his way back to Diasomnia so he can return to his job of guarding Malleus.

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Morning comes without fail, birds chirp on cue as the sun rises with its natural beauty. Sebek was out doing his morning jogs before he had to head off to the Culinary Crucible. Sebek had originally signed up so he could learn to cook for his liege but when he found out Yuu was going to be one of the judges he felt even more determined to master the practice of the culinary arts. ‘I have to be able to cook for my future partner!’ That’s what the little voice in his head kept telling him plus Lilia said a good boyfriend should be able to cook for his partner when they’re sick or tired. Sebek finishes his morning jogs and heads inside of Diasomnia to wash off all the sweat on his body. As the cold water hits his body he thinks about how the Culinary Crucible could possibly go. He did learn a bit from Yuu when all the first years were at Ramshackle for a studie night which somehow turned into a small party. Sebek couldn’t help but blush when he remembered how Yuu’s soft hands guided him on how to cut an onion or when he burnt most of the vegetables Yuu just simple laughed it off with a reassuring smile. “How could a human like that make me feel like this….”. Oh Yuu’s soft hands, he just can’t stop thinking about them. All he wants is to have them trail along his body and wrap around his hard- “I must stop thinking about such things of Yuu! I need to get ready!”

Sebek finishes his shower and gets dressed but not before gelling up his hair like he always does. This man went through almost two jars of gel each week, if Sam didn’t somehow magically have everything in stock Sebek would have been stuck with his natural hair. Sebek quickly checks the time. “On time as always.” And with that Sebek leaves to head off to the Culinary Crucible.

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All of Ramshackle’s (living) residents were sitting in the courtyard talking. It was their free time before lunch so Donnie started making bets “Ok, 10$ says Sebek burns it to ash.” Donnie rolls his eyes at Felix’s bet. “Oh please, he’s not Lilia. Althouuuugh, 5$ says he makes it too dry or too bland to eat.” Yuu couldn’t help but laugh “Wow, you really don’t have faith in him? How about 100$ says Sebek makes something that I’ll enjoy.” Both Felix and Donnie’s eyes widen “Henchman, are you feeling ok!?” Even Grim and Balik looked shocked “Yuu is making bets?!” Balik dropped her cool guy act from pure shock. “We don’t even have that kind of money! Crowley doesn’t pay us shit!” Yuu smirks at Donnie’s comment and shrugs her shoulders. “Well~ I just have a lot of faith in Sebek, I guess. Plus I should probably join in on the fun shouldn’t I?” “I guess you do seem to like him a lot.” Balik plainly states. “Seems?? Those two are head over heels for each other!” Donnie throws his arms up in the air in frustration. “We’ll just have to wait and see who the winner of the bet is.” Yuu smiles knowingly. “Nya, I’m going to buy so much tuna with this bet!” Donnie rolls his eyes at Grim’s gluttonous statement before looking down at his watch “Looks like we only have a few minutes till next period.” Everyone lets out a small groan before saying their goodbyes and parting for their next classes. ==============================================

Yuu sat comfortable in the judge’s chair with Idia to her left and Trey to her right. Sebek set a bowl full of chicken pho before her with shaky hands. He looked so nervous, which seemed so unlike him. Once Idia and Trey also reserved a bowl of the chicken pho Yuu took a small spoon full. She looked up at the nervous half fae man in front of her and put the spoon to her lips…..Woah! The chicken had a melt in your mouth texture and the broth was so flavorful! Yuu’s eyes opened in shock as she let out a small moan from the amazing dish. After the other two finished it was time for the results. Yuu was so proud of Sebek, he obviously worked super hard on the dish. Yuu happily held up the sign that had the number ten written on it. “Amazing~! I loved it!”. Trey held up a ten sign as well while Idia held up a nine sign. A big grin spread across Sebek’s face as he saw the high ranking signs, he quickly bowed. “Thank you!” ================================================

“WHAT!?” Like they planned this Felix, Balik, Donnie, and Grim all yelled in unison. “But how!?” Donnie was still in disbelief, how did Sebek do such a good job!? “My tuuuuuuuna!” Grim whined as his dreams of buying tuna with the bet money went down the drain. “Oh hush, I’ll buy you some tuna.” Grim’s ears pop up at the mention of Yuu buying him tuna. “I guess you get the money then.” Felix lets out a sigh before handing Yuu the money. “Thank you! Now remember next time not to test my intuition~” Yuu chuckled to herself. “Yeah, yeah, whatever and maybe next time we can get to taste this ‘amazing food’.” Balik still doubted Sebek of all people could cook such a good meal. “Yeah maybe…..” Yuu remembered the creamy, rich broth and melt in your mouth chicken, maybe she would have to cook for Sebek some time? Maybe a cooking date? Who knows, there’s so much time in life when you cook with love~!

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You have made it! Thank you for reading! I hope you liked it, it took me VERY long to make this. Mental health didn't help much lol. Make sure to get plenty of rest and to drink water dear reader!

#twisted wonderland #twst #sebek zigvolt #twst sebek #i live laugh love sebek #sebek zigvolt x reader #disney twst #twst oc #disney twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland oc

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thelazyhermits · 6 months

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Gonna talk about ADeuce and my Yuu underneath the cut

So y'all know how I once said in a fic A/N that I couldn't really see my Yuu ending up with any of the first years except for possibly Jack or Sebek?

Well, since writing for Twst Halloween, I've been thinking more about the ADeuYuu dynamic, which is making me reconsider what I had first said.

Up until that point, because of my Jack & Sebek bias, I hadn't really been giving a lot of thought to ADeuce, even though I love them and their relationship with Yuu. There's just no competing my love for Jack and Sebek lol 😂

But, despite my strong bias, I have been thinking more about ADeuce as of late, and I've come to a realization:

There are probably no boys that are more smitten with Yuu than Ace and Deuce lol

Like, I'm not saying they're in love with her, but at the same time, I'm not saying they're not in love with her either.

The more time I spend thinking about them and writing scenes with them, I'm just like, "Damn, these two are crazy about Yuu." lol 😂

It makes sense though, especially in Ace's case, since there's plenty of game content that supports his attachment to Yuu. Hell, the newest Halloween event is like a AceYuu date at one point lol

In the case of my Yuu, Ace wasn't too fond of her at first cause it pissed him off that this magicless kid got involved in the entrance ceremony and is allowed on campus despite how hard he worked to get into the school. (Which is apparently how he feels about Yuu according to what I've seen of the first light novel.)

However, after the incident at the Dwarfs' Mine, Ace becomes more interested in her since there's clearly more than meets the eye to her, although there was some reluctancy on his end cause of what happened with his ex-girlfriend which had made him originally plan on avoiding dealing with girls so he could just hang out with guy friends instead.

His curiosity won out in the end, though, cause it bugged him that he couldn't get a good, solid read on Yuu.

Plus, Yuu, albeit somewhat reluctantly, agrees to help Ace with the situation with Riddle that happens soon after the Prologue, so the events of Book 1 lead to him warming up to her and that's why he gets angry enough to punch Riddle on her behalf like what happens in canon.

If asked about his relationship with Yuu and the others, Ace would make the excuse that Yuu and the others are always following him around, and he's got no other choice but to put up with them since they're all in the same class, but that's a total lie lol

Ace, like Deuce, sticks with Yuu because he wants to. At first, it was to satisfy his curiosity about her, but it didn't take long for the main reason to be because he got genuinely attached to her.

He likes that it's never boring with Yuu and that she can give as good as she gets whenever he messes with her. He loves getting her riled up.

But rather than just cause he finds her reactions funny, it's mostly cause he likes having her undivided attention.

Ace was totally the kid that pulled the pigtails of girls that he liked when he was younger lol 😂

While I've said before that Deuce is one of the most overprotective of Yuu's sons, Ace is one of the most possessive, along with Grim lol

That's why Ace will get all sulky/annoyed if Yuu gives too much of her attention to anyone else. He's like a cat in that he'll make sure his displeasure is known and if he wants attention he'll make sure to get it, much to Yuu's exasperation/amusement.

That said, Ace doesn't mind if his time spent with Yuu is shared with Deuce, although Ace doesn't necessarily hate sharing his time with Yuu with her other sons. He's just less likely to complain if it's Deuce who's with them since they're both on the same wavelength when it comes to Yuu.

Moving onto Deuce, he quickly becomes attached to Yuu after he finds out that she also got into a lot of fights in the past and is trying to turn over a new leaf at NRC, like him.

While Ace became smitten with Yuu over time, Deuce got smitten early on since she really won him over when she comforted him during that shopping trip and assured him that his mother would be proud of the man he's becoming. His feelings just got stronger the closer he became to Yuu since she's always so supportive of him.

Deuce has no idea just how smitten he is. He just thinks this is normal for best friends lol

He's the biggest sweetheart when Yuu is concerned. In direct contrast to Ace, Deuce is always trying to be helpful to her since she's always supporting him, and he's pretty much always the first person who jumps to her defense.

Deuce thinks really highly of Yuu cause of how hard she works at school and with her part-time jobs and how she's able to earn the respect of the most powerful students at NRC.

He thinks it's amazing how patient she is with him when they do homework together and admires how smart she is.

Honestly, if any one person is considered a Yuu simp, it's probably Deuce 😂

Of course, Deuce will still get upset with Yuu for being reckless, like what happens at the end of Book 6 when everyone gets back from Styx, cause he cares so much about her and doesn't want anything to happen to her.

But Deuce could never get seriously mad at her and lose his temper cause he'd be worried about scaring her if he went full delinquent mode on her. (He has nothing to worry about. Yuu could never be scared of Deuce.)

The ADeuYuu dynamic is so good since these boys are crazy about Yuu and would drop everything for her, and Yuu equally adores them since these are her best friends, two of the first friends she ever made, and they've been with her since the beginning and have never left her side, which means a lot to a girl who, in the past, was always alone.

So just expect more of that in my writing since, while I still love Jack and Sebek the most, ADeuce have successfully wormed their way into the spotlight, so I intend to make sure to give them more love haha

#fortune in twisted wonderland

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savvythepirate · 1 year

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My Only One

Pairing: Hector Barbossa x reader

Warnings: None

Requested by: @marsswann

The Request:

Hi!! I don’t really know the rules (this is also the first time i’ve requested anything 😭) I am down bad for Barbossa rn and in need of some happiness. Could you possible do a Barbossa X reader who is super optimistic and will like ✨cutley✨ giggle and smile all the time (basically grumpy x sunshine) no one really knows why the hell she married him but she did 😭 but just like loving fluff (you can change things up if you want!!!) tysm i am down bad for ur writing

***

You had met Barbossa through Jack Sparrow, who happened to have seemed to be the only friend you had at the beginning of the story… your story.

The truth was you weren’t officially made to be part of Jack’s crew and you honestly didn’t have the desire to be recruited properly you might have wanted because it would more then likely bring you trouble rather then the most daring adventures.

Jack Sparrow describes you to be a careful person who avoided trouble or just any problems in general, and he knew that was why you were reconsidering his offer to come along and explore the seas. Looking back, that’s how it really all started, you remember almost rejecting Jack Sparrow’s offer to come along for the ride to avoid running into any kind of trouble. The worst case scenario you thought would be if you got captured and convicted guilty to false involvement in piracy which would only end with you having the only choice to face the gallows and that’s what you were afraid of. The second you mentioned this to Jack, he immediately got to work on reassuring you that it would be safe indeed. Jack reassures that if you stick with him, he would make damn sure that he wouldn’t let any of that happen to you and it was a challenge for him to finally convince you to eventually agree.

But you stop once more with a final question before parting together.

“What if I do get put into that?”

“I’ll come to your rescue. I wouldn’t let you get in trouble for nothing.”

Every time when you have that thought in mind, you can’t help but feel exceedingly grateful with the choice you have made to trust Jack.

Taking the risk of an adventure ahead of you. If you hadn’t taken that chance, you may not be where you’re currently are right now. You’ve wondered if you wouldn’t be with the man you love now. It all started with a dispute at the well known bar on Tortuga, you and Jack had stopped by for a break from sailing the seas and for him to tell you he had to meet up with someone already in waiting for the arrival. When you first walk inside, you were the first person that Barbossa locks eyes on without you ever realizing it. As Jack finally spotted Barbossa sitting at an empty table, you follow behind before Jack stops and asks that you be the one to collect the drinks you were both there for. Jack was there to exchange a deal for a better one and that was Barbossa’s purpose as well for being there.

As Barbossa had already fallen for you, it was difficult for him to focus on the task taking place, with him looking over your way without any acknowledgment. Heading back over, this is where you both first meet each other and it was love at first sight. You may not have known right on but after what happens next, you recognized the feelings forming within while facing this man. Barbossa couldn’t help but feel the wanting to get to know you, but this meet up is important to both pirates and it was kept as their top priority. While the meeting was becoming more of a drag the longer you remained, you nearly missed the fact that your drink is already gone and had gone to go refill it.

You informed Jack and promised to be quick. Jack agrees.

“Okay, be careful.”

You nod as if to say ‘yes’ before hopping back over to the counter and requesting the bar tender for a refill.

It hadn’t been that long since you left, commotion had unexpectedly come about and you were caught in the middle of it. What happened was that as you got up to the counter, another customer was waiting for his order. The man ordered before you and when the bar tender took you in first, the customer got offended and started a struggle. Barbossa saw as the strange man now was going after your neck and that’s when Barbossa stepped in to save you, with Jack Sparrow right behind him. Barbossa steps in front of you just in the nick of time while Jack takes your hand to exit safely outside the bar. When everyone had the time to process what just took place, Barbossa turns towards you, examining you for any possible injuries, wanting to make sure you had come out unscathed.

He lets out a sigh when you seemed to be okay, other then a little shook up.

“You okay, lass?”

Still in the shock of the moment, you could only nod in short response.

Despite of having been shook up of the incident, you were trying to find the proper words of thanks, none would come to mind. So instead, you showed your thanks to a man whom at the time, didn’t even know by an unexpected hug. You felt Barbossa stiffen a little, but relaxed as he returns the hug. You’ve been together ever since, from that day forward and you were both now happily married to each other. For most people, you stood out to be the most unlikely couple due to the fact that you hardly have anything in common. In their eyes, you were the complete opposite of each other as they didn’t understand your love for each other was real.

Love was what you had in common and that’s what they’re missing. Elizabeth Swann was the first to ask you about it not long after finding out you were together in person, and in turn, you happily responded.

“What is it that you see in him, (Y/n)?”

“My only one… my one and only.”

The talk of the towns were no different once the people would eventually learn the truth of this topic.

Some were more harsh about it then others, but you just simply avoid that and continued to enjoy each other. Whispers could be heard at times, everyone pointed out everything to try and put the pieces together. They’d look to see if they have missed anything you shared in common, but they didn’t and eventually would give up trying to make sense of it. Judgement never mattered to you, all that mattered was you were both happy and in love. Though most of the time you are sunshine and rainbows while Barbossa was grumpy and a little grouchy. Especially in the mornings. Although Barbossa could be a grouch, or a pain, he wanted nothing more then to be the one who makes you happy all times. He has made it his life’s mission to always make sure you were happy, and he would do it through sincerity and absolute true love.

Sometimes true love just really blossoms between the two who have the least bit in common if none at all… it just works. You’re both madly in love and nothing can or ever will change that.

Barbossa wouldn’t have it any other way, and neither would you.

He was the one, you’re only one.

***

Requests: OPEN

Tags: @princessofthornsandroses @justafairytailofinnocence

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bansheescreamsfics · 2 years

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Queen of the Underworld, King of Justice.

A/N: It’s a working title for this, but I’m trying my best. Moon Knight has inspired me to write so I decided to start this series and see what happens. Plus I love Anubis since I am training to become a funeral home director/embalmer.

About: Harrow is trying to get Ammit back to earth through his passage through the underworld. It is up to Jake, Marc, and Steven to fight through the underworld with the help of Anubis avatar y/n (you).

Warning: possesion. cursing. speaking of the afterlife.

Pairing: Jack Lockley x reader. Later chapters will have Steven Grant x reader and Marc Spector x reader.

Chapter: 1 | 2

The rush of the wind as you ran down the stairs stung but it was all you could do to keep yourself safe. It was one thing to be the best embalmer in the business but another to be suddenly wanted because of it. The men chasing you approached you during an embalming of what they said was their leader, Arthur Harrow. You were simply just trying to do your job but they were trying to take the body away once you were finished.

It was strange for his will to explain how he wished to be embalmed in the way the pharaohs were. Making it hard to gather the materials needed for such a task, but another to suddenly have his so called “followers” now chasing you, and accusing you of his murder. You told them that you didn’t even know who he was but you damn sure would never do such a thing. The answer was falling on deaf ears and now you were running for your life.

You turned corner after corner until suddenly you were in an alleyway with a dead in. You cursed loudly and touched the wall before you. You wished it would give way so you could escape but hearing the men now walking towards you told you that you were very much stuck. Slowly you turned around and sunk as far against the wall as you could holding out your hands in mercy.

The men simply laughed while you closed your eyes slowly preparing for the gunshot to end your life. However it did not come. You sunk to the floor holding on to your legs and hiding your face between them as you heard the sound of a feral dog. It was so loud that you covered your ears in an attempt to make the noise stop but there was no hiding the sound of skin being ripped apart. You didn’t dare open your eyes while tears streamed down your face.

Suddenly the dog was in your face, his wet nose sniffing you. You whimpered and were simply frozen in place due to fear. You tried to accept your fate until you heard someone in your head.

“I will not hurt you.”

It was almost booming inside your head and as you slowly opened your eyes stood the dog in human form. You shock as you begin to think that maybe you have died or finally lost your mind completely. What stood before you was Anubis in his human form who was now kneeling down in an attempt to be on your level but still looked giant.

“You are a good human. You do your best to assist souls to the other side for me to assist them to where they need to go. You have managed to make my job easier. I have tried my best to stand on the sidelines but I’m afraid I’m unable to. Take my hand young one and I’ll explain it all,” Anubis reached out with his hand a mixture of human and fur of a dog and you shook in fear.

“I will not hurt you. You are my avatar, young one. No harm will come to you. I promise that.”

As much as you wanted to believe this was a dream, the smells, the visuals and the feel of the ground beneath you made you realize this isn’t a dream. Even as you tried to pinch yourself without Anubis seeing he was very much in front of you awaiting your answer.

Before you could reconsider you found yourself holding on to his large hand. Anubis inspired you to do your job each day with respect to the body and their soul in their passage. You trusted that he would not lead you astray now, and even if you were dreaming what did you have to lose. You would simply wake up in the end wondering what it was all about.

Anubis smiled as you took his hand and helped you off the ground, “lets go young one. It’s time to get you ready for what’s to come.”

“What the fuck do you mean?” Jake was tired at this point and just wanted to go to sleep but Khonshu consistently had other plans.

“Arthur is trying to fight his way to ammit in daut. No idea where he got that idea but he managed to not freeze yet. Ammit must be keeping him safe on his journey, and we need to get there before Ammit manages to get back and finish what she started,” The old god sounded annoyed but Jake just rolled his eyes. He stood there in Steven’s living room and sighed.

“So what’s the plan?” He finally asked looking over his shoulder to the god attempting to sit on the small couch compared to his body.

“The thing is other gods are realizing the situation and summoning their avatars as we speak. One in particular needs to be on our side or we’re doomed.”

Jake chucked before raising his eyebrow, “And who’s that.”

“The one who runs the underworld. Anubis is now on the playing field. If we don’t convince him to be on our side then he’s too vulnerable to be persuaded by Ammit to be on her side. If she has him on her side the underworld could leak out onto your planet and destroy everything.”

The god's voice sounded almost scared and desperate to Jake, but he understood why he was worried. The dead walking the earth was everyone's nightmare and he sure as hell wasn’t about to let that happen, and he sure as hell didn’t want to see his mother once more.

“So who’s the avatar?”

“Y/n Y/L/N. She’s an embalmer. She’s in Egypt now trying to complete Arthur Harrow's wishes right now. She’s thorough, and is damn good at what she does.”

“We stop her from completing it. That means his soul can’t continue its journey,” Jake was catching on which made the old pigeon nod its head.

“I knew there was a reason I liked you.”

“Just get me there and I’ll do what I need too.” Jake said, already holding his backpack and before he could say another word they were both zapped in Cairo once more. He looked up to see he was staring at what looked to be a funeral home.

He pulled his cap further down before pushing his way inside. He just hoped he could get to her in time before disaster struck.

You looked out as you sailed on the boat through daut. To you it was strangely beautiful but now was not the time to sight see.

You look over your shoulder to see taweret steering the boat while Anubis stood at the bow of the boat looking ahead. Slowly you approached him but you knew he could sense your presence standing beside him.

“We are almost where we need to be,” He said softly.

“Shouldn’t I be with the body? I can do more with messing up his embalming than being here,” You said softly.

“It sadly isn’t enough but don’t worry you will be making those adjustments soon. But I must ask you a question first,” The god turned towards you slowly before you looked up at him and sighed. This night was going crazy just like your dreams and you were still not sure if it wasn’t. The small bruises on your arm you keep making between your fingers is evident enough that you’ve been trying your hardest to just wake up.

“Sorry young one, but this is not a dream,” He said, holding out your arm in his hand to see the bruises forming on your arm. He could see the marks from long ago that you made on your body in an attempt to end your life which made you turn your head away from him. “I’m happy it did not work out,” He said gently, running his thumb against it before kneeling once more.

“Will you protect the souls of the dead in their journey to the underworld? Will you be willing to do what it takes to protect the right of those journeys but also make sure no one tries to abuse it either?”

The speech was simple and to the point but you knew what he was asking. You didn’t understand why but knew what he was asking meant going forward you would be doing his job on earth. At first you hesitated but realized you were already doing his duty on earth. Your hand slowly reached up to the coffin-like necklace that had his image sealed inside. It was slowly becoming clear that your life was being pushed towards this very moment since birth.

You moved your hand in his grip so it could take him fully and looked up. This decision was going to change your life and even if it was a dream you knew your answer would still be the same.

“Yes.”

Jake woke up with sweat dripping down his body and the wind blowing through the window was of no help to him. He pushed himself from the bed to look out into the city to see the merchants begin to open up shop below. He had no idea where Harrow was being sealed and protected but he knew that if he wanted an egyptian burial that he had several days with salt sealing his body before they finished.

Even within a few days he was unsure if he could even find this so-called avatar of Anubis but he suddenly saw a woman with her hair wrapped in a scarf scurrying towards the funeral home.

“There you are, la cosita,” He murmured to himself. “Maybe this mission isn’t as hard as I thought.

You rushed past every merchant attempting to say good morning to you as you made your way to the building. You prayed no one had touched the body, and if it wasn’t for the strength of being Anubis' avatar you were sure you wouldn’t be able to walk as fast. The moment you were suddenly alone in the street you heard his voice inside your head.

“Rush on all fours. You will find you have better speed that way.”

You couldn’t help but laugh at his suggestion but he made no sound. This fucker is serious. You thought to yourself.

“I’m not what you call a fucker. Though I’m not exactly celebite either.”

The statement actually made you stop in your tracks and look over to see him in his dog form looking at you. He tilted his head towards the building that was less than a mile away down the street before taking off on all fours. You watched him and shook your head, “well I guess I shouldn't be surprised that even the god of embalming and the underworld gets around.”

You began to run on just your two feet before you stumbled and landed on your hands. Instead of stopping you managed to get a few steps just fine. You stopped and looked around to see if anyone could see you, “I can’t believe I'm actually going to do this.”

Before you could think too much about it you began to run on all fours before you began to feel a shift in your body. At first it was painful and made you land on the ground, on your stomach in pain before finally pushing yourself up. It was then you realized you were no longer human. Looking down you saw what looked like Jackal’s legs and fur growing. The pain was still there but it was manageable for you to finally stand.

“Fuck,” you whispered but what you heard was simple a bark.

You looked ahead to see Anubis in his jack form waiting in front of the building. Even in his jackal form he looks very pleased with himself. You wanted to smack that smirk off his face so you quickly began to move your legs. It was awkward at first to maneuver four legs like this but the moment you got the hang of it you realized how quickly you got to your destination.

You hand slam your back legs down to stop yourself from running right into Anubis who didn’t even flinch once you were in front of him.

How do I change back? Was your first question you thought of.

It isn’t hard. Just simply think of your human self. I wouldn’t dare make it more complicated for you.

You heard yourself whimper at the response before looking down at the ground. You closed your eyes and thought of what you looked like just moments before. Then the pain began to hit at your dog form collapsed on the ground and began to morph on the ground into who you looked like before.

By the time the transformation was complete you were still crying and looking up at Anubis who managed to change into his regular form.

“It’ll get easier little one i promise,” He said softly before looking at the door. “We have work to do and if I hear correctly you have more problems coming your way right this minute. Get up. Time to get to work.”

Next Chapter ---->

#moon knight #jake lockley #khonschu #anubis #moon knight x reader #jake lockely x reader #marvel fan fiction #moon knight fan fiction #moon knight imagines #moon knight series

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oseathepebble · 2 years

Note

💔 YOUR MUSE COMFORTING MINE AFTER THEIR HEART IS BROKEN

for the ask! I know we talked about Yuuta comforting Tsu before so ;-;

Warm And Fuzzy Meme

💔 YOUR MUSE COMFORTING MINE AFTER THEIR HEART IS BROKEN

AH I'M SO SORRY FOR ANSWERING THIS SO LATE I WANTED TO DRAW SMTH FOR THIS BUT I GOT LAZY SO I'M JUST GONNA WRITE SOMETHING

-----

Yuuta opened the door to Ramshackle Dorm, a look of concern on his face. They had just gotten back from Mr. S's Mystery Shop and on their way back, they ran into Jack

Jack had asked Yuuta to talk to Tsukiko for him. He looked visibly distressed and when Yuuta asked what for, he simply responded, "I made them really sad. . ."

Yuuta got a bit angry. "What do you mean you made them sad!?" He got a little protective over his friend

"Tsukiko can explain what happened, just please talk to them for me," Jack pleaded. "And if they don't tell you, come to me and I'll explain what happened,"

"Fine," Yuuta grumbled and continued on towards Ramshackle

Yuuta didn't bother properly putting away the things he got from the shop and just dropped the bag near the front door. He made his way to the kitchen and made a cup of tea for their friend

They headed straight to Tsukiko's room when the tea was done. The door was closed so they knocked and said, "Tsukiko, I'm coming in okay? I brought you tea"

He waited for a bit, just in case Tsukiko was to tell them not to come in. But after hearing a weak, "Okay. . ." They opened the door

Tsukiko was sitting on their bed, a blanket wrapped around them. Their eyes were red and their cheeks were stained with tears

"Jack told me to talk to you. . . He said he made you sad. . ." Yuuta explained as they sat down on the bed next to their friend. He handed them the mug of tea. "What happened?"

The mention of Jack's name caused more tears to fall from Tsukiko's eyes. A small sob escaped their lips. "I-I told him how I felt today. . . And he told me we couldn't be together!" They cried out between sobs. Their grip on the mug tightened

"What!?" Yuuta was shocked. "Why can't you two be together? It's painfully obvious that you both like each other. More than either of you admit," He mumbled the last part

"It's because I'm not from here. . . He only wants to choose one person to be with for the rest of his life, and that can't be me if I plan to return to my world once I find a way back. . ." The more Tsukiko explained what happened broke their heart even more. They took a sip of their tea to hopefully calm themself

"That dumbass! I should give him a piece of my mind!" Yuuta stood up but was quickly pulled back down by Tsukiko

"Please don't yell at him. . . He's right after all. I should just respect his wishes. . ." Tsukiko let out a sad sigh. "Even though I'd leave my entire life back in my world behind if it meant spending the rest of my life here with Jack. . ."

Yuuta's expression softened. "Why didn't you tell him that?" They asked

"Because I knew he'd feel guilty and tell me to reconsider. . ." Tsukiko looked into their tea

"Oh Tsu. . ." Yuuta side-hugged them. "I'm sure one day he'll come around. And if he doesn't, you're too good for him anyway,"

The two let out small laughs. "Thank you for being here for me. . . And the tea of course," Tsukiko thanked their friend with a small smile

"I'll always be here for you, Tsu," Yuuta finally saw Tsukiko's warm and familiar smile which made them smile as well

#tsukiko kawashima #yuuta midori #oc interaction #twisted wonderland #twst #twst oc #twst mc #twst yuu

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chicagofanfictionfan · 2 years

Text

Lil' Sis | Part 11

Warning contains spanking

As Abby walked into the room and sat on the bed, she noticed that Gibbs was no longer behind her. Maybe he had reconsidered her situation and realized that they were done discussing for the night. But, it was not to be because as soon as she had just relaxed to the idea of no more punishment she saw Gibbs had entered the room.

"Abby," Gibbs sighed as he ran his hands through his hair. "I do not know what goes through your mind sometimes. I think those Caf-Pows somehow short circuit the rational side of your brain. I mean how do you explain that you number one, even thought it was a good idea to skate in you lab in the first place and two, you directly disobeyed me when you failed to clean up and then on top of all of this you added MORE wax. I just... Sometimes I feel like I am dealing with a child here, Abs and I know you are an adult."

Abby stood up and said," You are right Gibbs, I did behave like a child and I am sorry. But you are correct and I am an adult, so I think punishing me like a child is not an effective way of punishment." Abby was hoping that Gibbs being so open now would rethink his earlier decisions.

"Sorry, Abs, not going to change my mind, I am just trying to explain to you why I feel this is justified. You like this family dynamic that our team has, and you yourself love feeling the baby of the group. I truly love all of you as if you were my own kids and let me tell you now, that if Kelly was still alive and she behaved as you did, would not matter her age, I would still spank her. "

"Really, Gibbs, I never thought of that, I am sorry I seem to always make you bring up Kelly and I know how painful that is." Abby started to cry.

Gibbs gently walked over to Abby, put his arms around her and let her bury her head on his shoulder. "SHHHH, it is OK Abs. One on the best things of this new family is that it lets me remember Kelly like a real daughter, not just a memory. I can see her doing some of the same things and I think how much this makes me alive. So dry the tears, no more tears tonight. Just get ready for bed; I think we can hold off the last of our discussion until tomorrow."

Abby stepped back totally caught off guard. This is not the usually steely Gibbs she knew, and now she felt like a little girl, who knew she could have the freedom to live, make mistakes, pay for them and still be loved. This Gibbs seemed to be so unreal, that she had to test just a little. "Bed now, come on it is not even dark."

"Abs," Gibbs said as he grasped her chin and made her look him eye to eye. "Do not push me, I can change my mind and take this belt off right now and finish this tonight."

"Oh, no, I am good. I was just getting ready to jump into bed right now. YAWWWNNNN! See how tired I am." Abby smirked as she lazily stretched her arms and scampered into the bed. Gibbs leaned over, tucked her in and gently kissed her on the cheek.

"Good night Abs," Gibbs turned and walked down the stairs. Gibbs smiled to himself as he entered the kitchen. 'One down, one fight to go.' Somehow Gibbs knew that when tomorrow reared its head, more fireworks were bound to happen. Abby did not realize that Gibbs never forgets and always follows through, he just dreaded when she realized that he had Ziva pack her bags for a week and that she would be riding tomorrow to see Jack, No iPod, music, TV or computer and no lab. He knew that she thought she had won the war tonight, but she would see that the small victory was short lived.

#Anthony DiNozzo #Jethro Gibbs #Abby Sciuto #Ziva David #Ducky Mallard #Timothy McGee #Jackson Gibbs

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bitsandbobsofwriting · 3 years

Text

Merlin snaps just a little;

Everyone feels guilty about it. Especially when they realise that their apologies won’t be accepted so easily.

The dreaded magic reveal has happened.

I won’t write it out, it doesn’t really matter how it happened; maybe there was a fight and it was a last desperate attempt on Merlin’s part to save everyone, or maybe he was just stupid and oblivious and cast a spell without realising someone was looking. Or maybe it was neither, maybe Arthur just finally pulled his head from his arse and put it together.

Like I said, it doesn’t matter.

Everyone, and I mean everyone, is gathered in the Roundtable Room. Mordred, Gaius, and Lancelot look quietly worried. Morgana and Gwaine look an odd mix between protective and upset. Leon, Elyan, and Percival look angry, though more at the secrets and lies than at the magic. Gwen just looks heartbroken, unable to look at the man she thought she knew everything about. Arthur is stony-faced, furious and embarrassed; at having been lied to, at being made a fool of, at giving everything to a man who had done nothing but lie to him.

Merlin himself sits slumped in his seat, hands dangling loosely over the sides and blank face staring at the table in front of him. His mind wonders, cycling through all five stages of grief, though his expression remains resolutely empty, and the awkward, thick silence stretches for a long time before Arthur finally breaks it, his voice hard and unforgiving:

“Why wouldn’t you tell us, Merlin? You’ve known us for years, ten, in the cases of Gwen, Leon, Gaius, and myself. How could you keep this from us? How could you lie so thoroughly?!”

His voice rose as he spoke, but Merlin doesn’t move, his gaze doesn’t waver, not even when Arthur abruptly stands and gestures wildly with his hands.

Merlin reconsiders his five stages of grief, and circles back to anger.

The servant smirks slightly, though it’s sad and mournful as he shakes his head, sitting up straight and levelling a cool stare at the furious King. His voice comes out quietly, but the cold tone cuts Arthur to the core:

“You want to know why I didn’t tell you?-”

Arthur just huffs and gives a slow nod, anger not receding despite Merlin’s bitter stare.

Merlin stands slowly, his gaze sweeping smoothly across the faces of everyone else, still sat at the table. Half of them can’t meet his eyes, staring into their laps, not bothering to hide the betrayal on their faces:

“-You all want to know? Fine.”

His eyes finally settle on Elyan and Gwen, sat together next to him, though they’ve pushed their chairs as far away from his own as they could manage. When they don’t look up at him, Merlin rolls his eyes and clicks his fingers, eyes flashing briefly golden as they both get a short static shock. They jump slightly, and everyone tenses when they realise that Merlin had openly used sorcery, but he doesn’t care, just nods satisfactorily when the siblings finally look up at him:

“I didn’t tell you two because despite my best attempts, your father died after being accused of sorcery. You've spent your whole lives since then talking about the evils of magic, about how it corrupts without question, and how no one should practice it because it’s selfish and innocents get caught up in the middle of it. I don’t just practice magic, I am magic, I was born with it. According to you, my very existence is a danger to everyone around me. What the fuck was I supposed to say?-”

Gwen takes in a sharp breath and Elyan widens his eyes in shock, but before either of them can say anything, Merlin moves on, ignoring the guilt in their eyes and instead focusing his angry gaze on Percival:

“-With all due respect, Percival, I know jack shit about you. You may have grown up outside of Camelot, but I’m not going to risk my life on the off-chance that you might disagree with the justice system of the man you swore your life to.-”

Percival just nods, understanding at least a little, flinching slightly at the disgust in Merlin’s tone when he spoke of Arthur’s justice system.

Merlin quickly turns to Leon, gaze jumping over Mordred who, though worried, looks a little proud. Merlin sighs heavily when he looks to Leon, and the older man frowns, knowing that whatever was about to be said was... not going to be pleasant:

“You. You were a favoured knight under Uther Pendragon, the man who started the purge. You followed his orders without hesitation when he told you to slaughter and burn my people and you then became First Knight under his son. Arthur may not be quite as much of a genocidal fucking maniac as Uther, but he’s well on his way, do I really need to keep going?-”

Leon shakes his head minutely, resolutely ignoring the tears gathering in his eyes and the guilt swelling in his lungs. Merlin ignores the sharp intake of breath he hears from Arthur when Merlin spoke of Uther, turning instead to Morgana:

“-Morgana, you may have been vocal in your opposition to the ban, but you’re Uther’s daughter, Arthur’s sister, a Lady who lives in the godamn castle. Who are you to decide that my life is worth the risk just so you get to feel better about your activism?-”

Merlin is speaking quicker and quicker, and he ignores Morgana’s gasp and tears, his gaze jumping over Gaius and Lancelot to settle on Gwaine:

“-You’re mad because you told me about your secret heritage, but I didn’t tell you about mine? Get over yourself. Your heritage is secret because you don’t like talking about it and it makes you a little sad; my heritage is a secret because it turns everyone I’ve ever cared about against me in an instant, and earns me nothing but torture by pyre. I owe you fucking nothing.-”

Merlin finally turns to Arthur. The King’s anger had drained out of him, and he just looked sad and guilty and remorseful, but Merlin doesn’t stop, breathing hard and eyes blazing as he pushes on:

“-And you. The Butcher King’s Butcher Son. -”

Merlin laughs incredulously and throws his arms up slightly:

“-Basically all of the above. Do I really have to explain? Your father single-handedly orchestrated the genocide of my people. You stood at the still smouldering funeral pyre of my best friend, who died saving your life, and told me that he was evil because of the magic you thought he had. You and your father are hypocrites of the highest order: you use sorcery when it suits you, for your own personal gain, and return home to execute magic-users the next hour. You’re well on your way to becoming exactly the legacy that Uther wanted, and I say that with all the disappointment in the world, and what? You think I should’ve risked my life just to teach a grown man a moral lesson that he should’ve been capable of learning himself?! No.-”

Merlin steps back from the table, glaring around at those he called his friends as they all stare at him with varying levels of guilt and horror:

“-All of you are pathetic, get over yourselves. You may consider my life and safety and freedom unimportant compared to you feeling good about yourselves, but I don’t. I am not obligated to risk my life just because none of you could put more than two seconds of thought into the motivations behind your deadly, inherited prejudices. NONE of you are entitled to my secrets, secrets that according to you, mean I should’ve been executed the moment I was born, so fuck off.”

With that, Merlin turns and storms towards the door, opening it with a bang and slamming it shut behind him before anyone has any time to react to what he said. No one tries following him, all knowing on some level that they wouldn’t be welcome.

Mordred, Gaius, and Lancelot share a look, glad that everything was out in the open, but feeling sad and guilt-ridden that it had happened in such a way. At least Merlin had managed to get all of that off his chest, it had evidently been stewing for a while.

Arthur sits back down in his chair heavily, letting out a deep sigh as he stares at the table, eyebrows furrowed and eyes sad. His words come out barely above a whisper, but no one draws attention to the way his voice cracks as he repeats Merlin’s earlier words:

“The Butcher King’s Butcher son...”

Gaius looks to him mournfully, not really wanting to upset The King any more, but also feeling just a little of the anger that Merlin had shown:

“Uther was known as The Butcher King in magical communities, I suppose the nickname was... passed on, in a manner of speaking.”

Arthur shakes his head slightly, blinking away his tears as he whispers once more:

“Butcher...”

Leon frowns in confused realisation, looking up to Mordred on his left first, and then Gaius and Lancelot further around the circle between Morgana and Gwaine:

“He... he didn’t say anything to you three.”

Mordred and Lancelot tense, eyes widening as they sit straight, as if they were getting ready to run, but Gaius just sighs and nods:

“We already knew about his magic, though if... if I had known he was so... upset, I would have spoken to him sooner.”

Gwen speaks up next, her voice shaking and teary as she looks almost accusingly at the three of them:

“Why did he tell you?”

Lancelot manages to hold in his annoyance, but Mordred scowls at her tone of voice and Gaius raises an eyebrow before responding slowly:

“He didn’t tell any of us. His mother told me in the hopes that I could help him learn to control it when he first arrived in Camelot.”

He looks to Lancelot next to him, nodding at him to explain:

“I found out by accident. He saved my life, helped me kill the griffin with his magic.-”

The knight sighs, leaning back in his chair and running a tired hand through his hair:

“-He was... grateful that I knew; he appreciated having someone to talk to about it, but equally, I think it made him anxious. He felt like he was putting me in danger and didn’t tell me a lot of things, I think that... ultimately, he wishes I hadn’t found out, no matter how much easier and safer it made his life.-”

He gives the group a weak smile:

“-He’s never been one to share his worries.”

Everyone nods, knowing that Merlin had never liked genuinely troubling anyone, no matter how much he complains about his chores. They look to Mordred next, but when he stays silent, resolutely staring at the table and ignoring the fear and anger clawing at his gut, Arthur prompts him:

“Mordred? How did you find out?”

The young knight tenses even more, frowning into his lap, and The King sighs, rubbing his eyes tiredly:

“You won’t be in trouble Mordred, no matter what it is, I promise.”

Mordred looks up sharply, angrily:

“Really?! Because when you found out that Merlin, your closest friend and ally of ten years, had magic, you freaked and got all... accusing. Exactly how am I meant to feel safe with any of you, as a Druid?-”

He ignores everyone’s sharp intakes of breath in favour of standing, hands clenched tightly at his side at he glares at the shocked King:

“-Merlin is a hell of a lot more than you have ever given him credit for. He has given up everything in pursuit of your safety and happiness, and in return you treat him like some sort of criminal. Butcher indeed, My Lord.”

Mordred snarls out Arthur’s title, and just like Merlin, he leaves the room with a dramatic slam of the door, not waiting for anyone’s response. The silence grows thicker and thicker until Gaius clears his throat and quietly explains:

“Merlin has a sort of... bond, with the Druids. He and Mordred share a mental link that allow them to speak to each other in their minds and be aware of each others’ presence at all times. Merlin has been teaching Mordred to control his gift, channel it, grow it; due to this, their bond is... deeper than most, Mordred looks up to him.”

Arthur sighs and nods, but Morgana is the next to speak, tears on her cheeks and an excess of guilt in her eyes that Arthur doesn’t quite understand; her voice shakes slightly:

“We... we have to find them, apologise.”

Everyone stands, ready to march out the citadel and track down the wayward Warlocks, but Lancelot quickly steps in front of the door, holding his hands out:

“No. You’ve all done enough damage. They’re both angry and scared; they would never hurt any of us but... they need time. This has been ten years in the making for Merlin, it’s a big deal and he deserves a little peace before you all go running after him with your tails between your legs.”

Arthur, Morgana, and Gwaine look desperate to argue, but Gaius nods his head in agreement, and another pointed glare from Lance has them sag and reluctantly agree. Arthur runs a hand through his hair, frowning as he stares towards the window, resisting the urge to search the courtyard below for any sign of Merlin:

“You’re right. Everyone finish your duties for today, three days from now we’ll track them down and... and apologise. Properly.”

Lancelot doesn’t look very happy, but to be perfectly honest, he’d rather everyone left Merlin and Mordred alone entirely, Gods know they deserve the opportunity to confront everything on their own terms, but getting Arthur to wait three days was probably the best he was going to get.

Merlin and Mordred were nowhere to be found for the next two days, but that was to be expected. The moment Gaius got back to his chambers he checked Merlin’s room, only to find all of his ward’s possessions missing, and a note saying he was nearby if Camelot ever needed help. Gaius had sighed at that, but he wasn’t surprised; it would seem that Merlin had finally had enough, and had decided to complete his destiny from afar.

Mordred’s rooms were in a similar state, he had taken his armour, but left the red cloak, and Gaius and Lancelot were grateful that the two Warlocks at least had each other, wherever they were.

Arthur cleared everyone’s schedules for the next few days, and from dusk until dawn they all gathered around the table in his chambers, guards dismissed and doors locked. Gaius and Lance used that time to explain everything, starting of course with the prophecies (though they leave out Mordred’s role), running through everything that they knew of. They brought with them tokens from their stories: artefacts stolen from enemies, a sketch Merlin had allowed Gaius to create of his healed Serket Sting, shards of Aithusa’s shell, and a few of Kilgharrah’s scales, among other things.

Each story incited a long list of varied reactions. There were bits and pieces of anger, but at Lancelot and Gaius’s continued insistence that Merlin had been dealing with this almost entirely alone, with help only from a cryptic, uncooperative Dragon, and the Druids, who saw Merlin more as some legendary untouchable being, rather than an isolated boy who needed guidance, they allowed him his mistakes. Mostly, there was just a great deal of guilt. Guilt at Merlin’s suffering, the injuries he had sustained and the nights he goes without sleep. The nightmares that Gaius regularly wakes him from and all the people he had lost, all the lies he had to tell to keep himself or others safe.

It was exhausting, and Arthur was glad that none of them had to deal with meetings or training or chores; he’s not sure any of them would be able to cope with so much horror on their minds.

Lancelot’s angry (he’s been angry a lot in recent days. Partly at everyone else for pushing Merlin so far, but mostly at himself for not having seen his friend’s stress sooner) addition at dusk on the second day, that he and Gaius only knew part of the story, that Merlin kept as much of it as possible to himself, how he had many injuries that they couldn’t account for, a hundred nightmares he wouldn’t tell them about, and days he went missing that he would never explain, really drove home to the gang just how much Merlin had suffered. Was still suffering.

At dawn on the third day they gathered once more, travelling clothes on and a map spread out in front of them.

Arthur cleared his throat and took a deep breath:

“Right. Merlin’s note said they’d be nearby, but where would they go?”

Gwen is the first to speak, looking hopeful for the first time in days:

“Back to Ealdor perhaps? I know Merlin hasn’t been home in a while, and Mordred seemed eager to visit again.”

Gaius shook his head:

“No, he wouldn’t go somewhere so obvious. He’s sick of having to hide himself, and having magic in Essetir is just as dangerous as having it in Camelot.”

Gwaine speaks up next, though he doesn’t sound sure of his own solution:

“The Druids then? There are plenty of camps within our borders, but we mostly leave them alone, and they’re all about magic”

Gaius shakes his head again, and Lancelot holds in his annoyance at the older man for helping them:

“Definitely not. He’s not overly fond of the way they treat him, and Mordred left for a reason. They’re looking for peace and quiet, somewhere where they can practice and train alone and uninterrupted, wherever they are, they’re likely on their own.”

Arthur throws up his hands, pacing the room in his annoyance:

“That could be anywhere! The woods are huge and the kingdom is riddled with caves and valleys and abandoned buildings. We’re the only ones that can know about this search, we can’t exactly spend months scouring the land looking for them.”

Morgana gulps and steps forward, raising her hand slightly:

“I... uh... I might be able to help with that.”

The gang look to her curiously and she clears her throat, taking a deep breath before she admits:

“Merlin and Mordred aren’t the only ones with magic. I discovered mine a few years ago, I’ve been teaching myself to control it from books I sneak from the library. If Merlin is as powerful as you say he is, I might be able to track him, if I can find some sort of spell.”

Everyone looks shocked, bar Gaius, who, though a little surprised, looks like he almost expected it. He wasn’t certain, but he had suspected, though he buried his suspicions when Morgana had stopped complaining of nightmares and headaches.

(She kept her magic hidden, though she isn’t destined to turn evil; Kilgharrah and Merlin have no idea she has magic)

She holds her breath as she waits for a reaction, and it finally comes in the form of Arthur letting go of a deep breath and rubbing his face with his hands, looking to Gaius:

“Does such a spell exist? What would we need to do?”

Gaius nods slowly:

“In a manner of speaking. If you are... well practiced with your magic...?-”

He trails off, though his voice lifts in question and Morgana shrugs and nods slightly:

“Everything I know I’ve taught myself. I wouldn’t say I’m powerful, but I’ve got fairly good control of what I’ve got access to so far.”

Gaius nods and continues:

“-Well, it wouldn’t be a specific spell. Merlin is incredibly powerful, his magic, his soul, is practically a beacon if you know what you’re looking for. My magic is too dormant, buried far too deep for me to be able to do anything with it quite yet, but Morgana may be able to.”

Morgana straightens her back and clenches her hands:

“What do I do? How do I look for him.”

Gaius turns the map to be facing Morgana, instructing her to hold her hand out over it, palm down, and close her eyes. She does as she’s told, and Gaius continues softly:

“Focus on your magic, the feel of it; allow it to come to the surface. Do not instruct it to do anything, don’t think any spells, simply feel it, free it from it’s confines.-”

Morgana nods and takes a deep breath, her expression softening into a slight smile and her posture relaxing as a gentle, effervescent glow spreads under her skin:

“-Think of Merlin. Picture his face, imagine his voice, think of the magic in him. Specific memories hold more power, so try to remember a time you saw him amongst nature: that is where he is strongest.-”

Morgana’s smile grows, and after a few moments she gasps tensing slightly, and Gaius nods:

“-You feel him?”

Morgana nods shakily, her breathing just a little deeper and she mutters:

“My Gods, when you said powerful, I didn’t think... this is insane, it’s like he’s... everywhere. He’s all I can feel.”

Gaius raises an eyebrow and shrugs slightly when the rest of the gang look to him bewilderedly, though Lancelot just looks marginally smug:

“Focus on that. Stop allowing your magic to move freely and direct it to the map, keep focusing on Merlin, though try not to... intrude. If he feels you searching for him then he may shut you out.”

Morgana nods again, lowering her hand towards the map slightly and biting her lip in concentration, trying to track Merlin’s power, feel it, but not push it or snag it with her own. After a few moments of tense silence, a thin golden thread of light extends from Morgana’s palm, lazily curling through the air as if moving through water. Everyone holds their breath, and with one last tense scowl from Morgana, the tip of the thread drops to the map, sinking into the paper over an area of mountains a few days ride from the city.

Arthur frowns in confusion, but Gaius nods to himself, almost as if he suspected it already. Lancelot hums lowly, he had definitely suspected, though he was still adamant that they should leave the Warlocks alone, so had kept silent. Morgana lets out a breath, opening her eyes just as they fade from gold back to green and dropping her hand, the golden thread disappearing as she collapses back in a chair:

“That was... I don’t even know what to say. How does he live with that? I was just... sensing it and it was overwhelming. How can he function when he’s feeling so... feeling all of that constantly?”

Arthur’s frown deepens, but before he can question anything Gaius tilts his head knowingly:

“Perhaps you now understand why he is so clumsy, My Lady. It is hard to focus on one’s physical body when what you just felt is only a fraction of what he has to keep contained within himself.”

Arthur clears his throat, crossing his arms:

“What I don’t understand is how they got there? Those mountains are a full three days ride away and they didn’t take horses. The caves are impassable, we don’t even know what’s in there, and according to Morgana’s... magic, Merlin is right at the centre.”

Gaius looks to Lancelot, and the physician and the knight seem to have an unspoken conversation, much to Arthur’s annoyance:

“Well? You two obviously know something, care to share?”

Lancelot huffs and rolls his eyes and Gaius raises an eyebrow before nodding:

“It is likely that they had... help getting there. We told you of Kilgharrah and Aithusa? Those caves are where they dwell when they aren’t out with Merlin. It would seem that Merlin has returned to his true, Dragonlord roots, and has invited young Mordred along.”

Gwaine lets out a low whistle and the gang look to him incredulously:

“What? Up until right then my brain was still kind of hung up on the whole... Dragon thing. Seems a tad unbelievable.”

Leon’s grumbled “I was there, believe me, the Dragon is bloody real.” goes unnoticed when Arthur rolls his eyes and says:

“What, less believable than surviving a Serket sting? Or being immortal? Or being a legend of prophecy?”

Gwaine shrugs, pulling an apple from his pocket and taking an obnoxiously large bite, promptly ending the conversation as Arthur grimaces and scoffs, rolling his eyes and walking purposefully to the door, everyone else trailing behind him.

The rest of the council were told of some sort of secret mission, and whilst they were unpleased at being left in the dark, Arthur was King, and could damn well do what he pleased.

Everyone’s mysterious absence over the last two days had definitely been noted with concern, but Arthur waved them away, reassuring them that everything would be made clear by the end of the season; though he was hoping his magic ban repeal would go through quicker than that, he had to be practical in his assessment that it would be a lot of work, and there was every possibility that he wouldn’t have Merlin’s help.

They set off immediately after speaking to the council. Gaius was left behind, they were already depriving the kingdom of her King and inner council, they couldn’t also take her best Physician. Besides, Gaius was not as young as he used to be, a three day’s journey and then a trek through perilous mountains wouldn’t be good for him. Arthur had wanted to leave Lancelot behind as well, so that only those who had apologies to be heard would be present, but Lancelot absolutely was NOT having that, and The King had to give in fairly quickly.

The three day journey was made mostly in silence; Arthur stopped being petulant about Morgana’s hidden magic almost immediately, though everyone still remained slightly... uneasy, when she openly used it. To which she rolled her eyes and insisted:

“Look, Merlin and Mordred are in the centre of a Dragon Lair, I can guarantee that there will be some serious magic going on when we get there. You need to get used to it eventually, because I have a feeling neither of them are going to be willing to make compromises for your comfort.”

Lancelot had smirked and nodded at that. Everyone could tell he was incredibly unhappy about this journey, though he only said it once; they know his thoughts, no point repeating them. Lance was of the opinion that Merlin and Mordred should be left alone entirely and everyone knew it. They’d left for a reason, and they knew how guilty everyone was feeling, if they wanted to hear apologies then they would come back. But they’re hiding in one of the hardest places to get to in all the Kingdoms... you’d think that would be hint enough. Apparently not.

On horseback, with Morgana’s help clearing a path and showing them the way, they made the journey in three days. Just over six days since Merlin and Mordred had left, their righteous anger keeping their heads held high whilst the others bowed their heads in shame.

They stood at the foot of the mountains, composure in tatters and breathing quick as they stared up at the vast stone structures. They’d had to travel through a thick, basically untouched forest, and the impenetrable canopy in the height of summer meant the sky was almost completely hidden. They knew which direction to travel in, thanks to Morgana, and they knew roughly how long they had to ride, thanks to the maps, but the way the forest suddenly gave way to a cliffside was unexpected and breath taking.

The maps were incomplete and vague, and Morgana could only point them in the right direction as the crow flies, so it took another half a day of scrambling around at the base of the mountains, avoiding surprise rockfalls and hidden crevasses, for them to find a path that could conceivably be an entrance.

Lancelot was of no help, letting the others take the lead as he shook his head, praying that they would just give up and leave the Warlocks alone, but knowing on almost every level that that wasn’t going to happen.

The path, as they had guessed, was dangerous, and they definitely had a few close calls. Morgana, Gwen, and Leon managed with endless amounts of grace, but Gwaine almost slipped a few times, and Percival, with his size, struggled with sticking close to the stone wall and away from the edge.

It wound along the edge of one of the mountains, climbing higher and higher up the cliffside as it snaked towards the centre of the mountain range. It could hardly even be called a path, and it took all of their courage to force themselves to flatten against the side of the mountain where it got too narrow, or leap over knife-edge drops where the path had fallen away.

The first night, they managed to find a cave. It wasn’t very deep, the damp was almost intolerable, and the way the wind howled through the cracks and gaps in the stone almost froze them as they tried to sleep, huddling for warmth, but it was safer than sleeping on the cliff’s edge.

The second night, they weren’t so lucky. They were running out of rations; the horses had been let loose at the base of the mountains (they were trained to stay close to wherever they were left, so as long as bandits didn’t get to them, they should hopefully still be milling around when the gang finally escapes these infernal mountains) and there was only so much they could carry between them. They walked through the second night, unable to find anywhere even remotely safe to stop and rest until late the next morning.

According to Morgana, they were close, so they only stopped for a few hours; there was no cave, but the ledge opened up and became wider, just about wide enough for a few of them to sleep at a time whilst the others kept watch.

They were incredibly annoyed to find that the next corner they turned curved round into the mountains; the path widening significantly and the cliffside of another mountain rising up where previously there had been nothing but a long drop.

Arthur was stuck between wanting to speed up now that it was safe to do so, and wanting to slow down because they don’t know how long the path would remain easy. Or as easy as it can get when at least once an hour someone almost gets crushed by boulders tumbling form the heavens.

They rest eventually, stopping when it gets dark and spreading out on the spacious pathway, as far away from the cliffs as they could get to avoid being flattened should something fall in the night. For the first time since Merlin and Mordred left, Arthur lets everyone sleep in, and it’s almost noon by the time they get going again; though Arthur does make them practically jog. He was getting restless, his apology speech playing over and over in his head, desperate to escape his mind, he just wanted to find his Warlocks and get it over with and bring them home again.

Lancelot raises an eyebrow at Arthur’s fast pace, but shrugs and bites his lip to stop himself from laughing derisively, keeping up easily, but not happily.

It’s just before dark on the third day, though they’ve only been travelling for a few hours; in the centre of the mountains with cliffs rising hundreds of metres on every side, they only had direct sunlight for a few hours over the middle of the day, and it got dark quickly. The path widens into a broad, open glade, almost a perfect circle roughly the size of Ealdor. The rockface has been methodically carved, runes and images and words decorating the stone further up than the eye can see. On the cliff side directly opposite them, the rock opens up into a jagged, gaping maw; it looks huge, even with the great distance between it and the gang, an entrance, they think, wide enough for a Dragon.

They all gaze around the clearing in wonder, before determinedly walking towards the cave entrance. It takes them a few minutes to reach the other side, even with their purposeful stride, and Gwaine lets out a low whistle when they peer inside... or more accurately... over the edge.

In the entrance, under the largest mountain of the range, the ground gives away to nothing. There’s a thin path that zig-zags down the edge of the drop into the darkness, far deeper than the land surrounding the mountains. With another deep breath, they begin their descent, being forced to light torches after only a quarter-candle-mark due to the impenetrable darkness closing in from every direction.

It took them almost two candle-marks to reach the bottom, where they find a wide cavern. The moment they stepped away from the cliff face, giant metal braziers all around the edge of the cavern lit, as if by magic. All of them jump before putting their own torches out as they peer around the cavern. It was gargantuan, and they could see tens of tunnels dotted along the edge of the walls, as well as giant holes high up on the walls, walls which were covered in dragon-sized foot holds. Leon is the first to point them out, his voice echoing loudly as he says in a fascinated voice:

“This place must’ve been where the Dragon-Lords and their Dragons lived before the purge. The Dragons obviously couldn’t fly down here, but I bet you there’s a hugely complex cave system just for them, above the normal pathways for people.”

The others nod distractedly, but Gwaine lets out another impressed whistle:

“So I guess just... don’t stand below any big holes in case a Dragon lands on you.”

Elyan rolls his eyes, and uses the hand that isn’t being clutched by his sister to thump him on the arm:

“There are only two Dragons left, Gwaine, this place is mostly empty.”

Morgana looks back to the group with a small frown:

“Yeah, except Merlin is the last Dragon-Lord, and he isn’t best pleased with us right now. You know what Gaius said, Merlin has a bond with these creatures like no other connection in nature, they’re probably not all that opposed to killing us right now, so be careful, be respectful.”

Arthur nods in agreement, looking to his sister:

“Can you figure out which way?”

Morgana glances to the many tunnels, but shakes her head and looks back to Arthur with a grimace:

“No, but look around, Arthur,-”

She gestures vaguely at all the lit braziers, the shadows of flames and smoke flickering ominously against the rock walls:

“-they know we’re here, and I can feel Merlin getting closer. Now I’m tuned into his magic, I don’t even need Gaius’ neat little trick to sense him, he’s... it’s been getting stronger, it’s sort of overwhelming.”

Everyone frowns in confusion, but it’s Gwen that questions:

“Well... if he’s that powerful, and Gaius’ spell is now all but useless, why couldn’t you feel his power before?”

Morgana’s grimace deepens and she runs a hand through her knotted hair:

“He was probably hiding it. I can’t imagine keeping all of that inside. I struggle to hide mine entirely and he’s practically a God compared to me.”

Arthur bites his lip hard at that. How had he kept Merlin so far below him? Both in his mind and in station? If Morgana’s... magic, and Gaius and Lancelot’s stories are anything to go by... Merlin has the power to level Kingdoms, and Arthur had him mucking out stables and polishing armour. Worse, he questioned his loyalty, the loyalty of his — not that he would ever admit it — favourite person in the world. Arthur had a lot to apologise for.

Before his thoughts can spiral even further and before any one else can say anything, their attention is jarringly caught by a spine-chilling scuttling sound echoing all around the cavern. It comes and goes, but it’s clear that whatever it is is getting closer and closer; they all bunch together fearfully, bar Lancelot who rolls his eyes and leans up against the wall with his arms crossed.

They can only assume that it’s Kilgharrah and Aithusa crawling around in their tunnels as an ear-splitting screech of claws against stone sounds out all around them. Lancelot grimaces slightly, but just huffs in annoyance when the others tighten their defensive huddle, all of them doing a terrible job of hiding how afraid they are.

After another few minutes of that, the noises steadily getting louder and louder and Morgana glancing to the people-sized tunnels with increasing frequency, the noise finally stops, and the silence is almost scarier than the previous cacophony. They all hold their breaths in suspense, gasping and letting out short yelps of surprise when a huge golden beast lands gracefully in front of them.

No one judges when Arthur takes an alarmed step back and Leon grabs Percival’s hand; they were the only ones who had met Kilgharrah already, and it wasn’t such an... amicable meeting. At least, they thought Arthur and Leon were the only ones to have met him before. Kilgharrah’s angry eyes rove over the group huddled at his snout as if he were looking for something specific, but he looks up sharply when Lancelot yells from behind them:

“Sorry to intrude Kilgharrah, they insisted. How’ve you been?”

The gang stare at him in shock, and the irate knight finally pushes himself off of the wall to walk up next to them, completely ignoring them as he frowns, annoyed, at Kilgharrah’s angry huff of hot air:

“I’ve been better, though I assume you already knew that, noble one.”

Lancelot smiles apologetically, barely sparing Arthur a glance as he replies:

“Yeah, I figured. If they really don’t want to see us then just threaten to crisp them up a little bit, they’re already scared shitless and I told them this was a bad idea.”

Kilgharrah’s lips lift to reveal razor sharp teeth, in what the gang can only guess is the creature’s best imitation of an amused smile:

“I, personally, was of the opinion that I should be allowed to raze Camelot again in response to My Lord’s cruel treatment,-”

Arthur takes a noticeable step back at that, but neither the Dragon nor Lancelot look to him:

“-but My Lord was decidedly against it. Aithusa is on her way, she has not quite mastered climbing through the tunnels yet-”

With that, a high-pitched, though still terrifying screech sounds from above, and a horse-sized white Dragon falls from the ceiling, managing to slow her descent with her shivering wings just in time. She lands a lot less gracefully than Kilgharrah had, tripping over her tail once and her wings twice before she manages to right herself. Lancelot holds in a laugh as she huffs petulantly at the gang before trotting happily up to him, pushing her scaled head into her chest and only letting up when he lifts a hand to run his nails harshly along the ridges behind her ears. She purrs happily in greeting and Kilgharrah rolls his eyes, muttering “You shouldn’t encourage her, she’s not a pup.-” to the giggling knight. She gives her next petulant huff to the larger Dragon before bounding enthusiastically over to the one of the human-sized tunnels, sticking her head in as far as she can fit and waving her tail in the air. Lancelot snorts at Kilgharrah’s continued muttered complaints “-Though apparently she may be part cat.”.

The great Dragon turns his attention back to Arthur and the group cowering confusedly behind him:

“My Master and his Charge will join us shortly,-”

He walks towards them, his belly low to the ground and his teeth bared as if he were a predator stalking oblivious prey from a hiding place in long grass. His voice drops, coming out as an angry growl, and Leon squeezes Percival’s hand so tightly that the gentle giant has to resist the urge to wince and pull his hand away:

“-though if it were up to me, I would burn you to ash before you ever set your judging eyes upon them again.”

Lancelot raises an eyebrow but doesn’t say anything at Kilgharrah’s newfound protectiveness of not only Merlin, but Mordred as well, knowing that the old reptile had originally been intent on convincing Merlin to kill him, even as a child.

A shrill bark sounded from Aithusa before anyone could react to Kilgharrah’s unhidden hatred, and everyone looks to her as she frantically backs out from the tunnel, pouncing around in circles at the arrival of her Master and new brother.

Merlin and Mordred walk out with grins on their faces as they stare fondly at the Dragon, eyes unashamedly golden as they light their way with magic, and the gang are struck by how free and relaxed they look. Arthur had never realised how constantly tense and miserable his manservant was until suddenly... he wasn’t. Neither of them were in their usual wardrobe, Merlin has exchanged his red tunic and blue neckerchief for a loose white lace-up shirt, and Mordred had replaced the armour with soft-looking casual clothes, his tunic unlaced just enough that the gang can see the edge of a Druid Triskelion tattooed onto his chest.

The moment doesn’t last, the second that the Warlocks look over to the gang, their smiles drop into scowls and their shoulders tense angrily. Merlin holds a hand out to Mordred protectively, and though the younger man doesn’t seem too pleased about it, he obeys Merlin’s obvious request for him to stay slightly behind; the two of them stalk over, gaits purposeful and eyes remaining gold.

Lancelot shoots Merlin an apologetic smile and the former servant returns it with a respectful nod before turning his gaze back to Arthur. The King gulps, looking the two of them up and down and staring with an odd mix of fear and awe at the shear power radiating from them. It’s not just the magic they can feel crackling in the air as if lightening were about to strike, it’s the way they stand, the way they hold themselves with such confidence and elegance, the righteous fury on their faces and the gold of their eyes.

Merlin sighs harshly at their staring and clenches his hands tightly:

“I’ve spent ten years hiding who I am, and I’m done. I am Emrys, the most powerful Warlock to ever walk the earth, this is my magic, our magic, and I’ll be damned if ever let you take that away from us again.”

Arthur recoils slightly and the others look to the floor in shame, bar Lancelot, who smiles proudly and nods, absentmindedly stroking Aithusa’s scales again as he waits for someone to say something.

Arthur clears his throat, glancing fearfully at Kilgharrah for just a second before looking back to Merlin and opening his mouth. The moment he tries to speak, all his practiced speeches and many apologies fall to his stomach like lead, and he closes his mouth again. Mordred smirks and Merlin quirks an eyebrow, crossing his arms mockingly as Arthur flushes and tries again:

“Merlin, I... you were right. We had no right to be angry, and it wasn’t fair of us to expect you to trust us when we had given you no reason to...”

He trails off, and it’s perfectly obvious that he had planned to say more, but his words fail at Merlin’s continued hard expression, and Gwen steps forward instead, her voice shaking and tears gathering:

“I’m so sorry, Merlin. Gaius told us what you did, at least some of it, and it was cruel of us to be angry. I know you tried your best to save my father, and you’ve kept me safe for ten years, and I was completely out of line to expect more when I never gave you anything. You were my best friend and I utterly failed you, and I’m so sorry.”

Merlin just raises an eyebrow again, golden eyes looking around the mini crowd as he gestures vaguely:

“Any one else want to get anything off their chest? Me and Mordred were in the middle of a lesson that I’d like to get back to.”

Gwen’s tears silently overflow at Merlin’s obvious dismissal, and the gang shuffle uncomfortably on their feet before a chorus of murmured apologies float up. Some specific, some vague, but all over the top of one another. Merlin chuckles darkly and shakes his head, staring to the floor as he holds a hand up, signalling them to be quiet:

“You know what’s happened? I’ve done the one thing I promised myself I would never do. I forced you to face your prejudices, and you lot didn’t have to put any effort I because I did it for you, as per fucking usual.-”

He looks up angrily, his hands clenched tightly at his sides and his eyes glowing brightly in tune with his fury:

“-So fuck off. Apologies not accepted. Leave us be. All the murder of innocents and blood spilt and lies spread and terror doled out like goddamn snow in winter does not get scrubbed away just because you’re all feeling a little guilty. Actually do something about it. I’ll bet you’ve spent the last week and a half sitting around feeling miserable and sorry for yourselves, and rehearsing your shitty little apology speeches; well I don’t want to hear it. I’ve spent ten years in utter agony, I’ve spent ten years being terrified out of my mind as my default emotion, and I categorically refuse to live like that any more.-”

He paces to the side slightly, raking a rough hand through his hair as he lets out a short, humourless laugh:

“-Gods, I’ve been pathetic haven’t I? Allowed myself to become friends with, to rely on, to care about people who turned on me the moment they found out who I truly was, despite the fact that I sacrificed everything for them, for you,-”

He turns back to them, his eyes wide and his smirk dangerous:

“-and the worst part is I knew that was what would happen. I knew you would turn on me, I knew that my friendships with all of you were conditional on the fact that you could never know anything about me, because you despise the very thing I’m made of.-”

Merlin sags all of a sudden, staring at the floor in exhaustion as Mordred steps forward to put a hand on his shoulder:

“-I’m... I’m tired, Arthur. I can’t do this anymore. Please leave.”

Arthur takes in a deep breath, holding in his tears as he nods stiffly, but before he can walk back towards the stairs Morgana pushes her way to the front of the crowd:

“Merlin, I may not understand the challenges you’ve faced as Emrys, but I do understand your fear, and I’m sorry.”

Merlin looks up at that, freezing when her eyes flash golden and a miniature flame lights itself in her palm. It goes out again after a few moments, and her teary eyes fade back to their normal green, but it takes Merlin a while to stop staring at her out-stretched hand. He looks up at her incredulously, clenches his hands so hard his nails break skin as he harshly whispers:

“How dare you?-”

Morgana is taken aback at his reaction, but she doesn’t have time to say anything before Merlin lets out another slightly manic laugh:

“-Gods above, you really are Uther’s daughter aren’t you?! The entire fucking family... I suppose cruelty and hypocrisy just runs in the bloodline, huh?”

Morgana bites her lip harshly and looks down, wanting more than anything to argue, to apologise again, but knowing she doesn’t have anything worthwhile to say. Merlin's accusations are accurate, she has no right to be angry at Merlin for hiding his magic, when she hid her own for all the same reasons.

Mordred’s hand slips down to his mentor’s wrist and he tugs backwards slightly. Merlin nods and Arthur is sure that they’re communicating in their heads like Gaius said they could, but he doesn’t say anything, waiting for one final dismissal. Merlin looks to Kilgharrah, not even sparing the others the briefest of glances as he tiredly says:

“Make sure they get out of the mountains safely, please.-”

Kilgharrah growls in annoyance, but nods, understanding that, whilst Merlin currently had no intention to go back, he still felt loyalty to Albion’s golden future, and that could only happen if no one tumbled off a cliffside.

The Warlock turns to Lancelot next. The knight looks a lot more mournful than he had previously, but still has a softly proud smile on his face as Merlin speaks to him gently:

“-Fancy staying for a little while? I never got round to showing you the back halls, and I know Aithusa has missed you. I can teleport you back whenever you like.”

Lancelot raises an amused eyebrow at the white dragon curled up at his feet, nodding in agreement, before looking back at Merlin:

“Sure. And you can teleport now?”

Merlin grins and nods:

“It’s amazing what you can do when you stop being so terrified of letting go.”

Kilgharrah, realising that Merlin has nothing more to say to anyone else, turns to Arthur and the gang with an angry snarl, gesturing to the stairs behind him with his snout. They give Merlin one last tearful look, but resist saying anything as they all stumble with blurry eyes towards the cliffside.

Lancelot, like promised, reappears in his bedroom in the castle about three days after everyone else had gotten back. He raises an eyebrow at everyone’s questioning looks, only responding to Gaius to fill him in on how his ward was doing once the Problem People had left the vicinity.

Arthur had gotten right on drafting up the ban repeal, though work was slow. Morgana and Gaius were the only ones with enough knowledge on magic that he trusted with accurate research and application. Leon and Elyan had marginally better reputations among the Druids that the others did, so they were sent to the closest camp to request any help or information on previous magical law they could provide. Lord Geoffrey is drafted in and “I swear, as King, in the name of Camelot, that you won’t face any punishment for having any books on sorcery hidden away. In fact... I’m actually kind of hoping that you do... please?” to which he responds with a coughing fit and a nervous glance to Gaius, who just smiles and nods.

A whole murder of crows — that Merlin is incredibly proud of himself for managing to train — ferries letters back and forth between Lance and the two Warlocks, and whilst they refuse to reply to anything that’s directly from Arthur or the others unless it’s strictly educational/political, they keep Gaius and Lance in the loop on what they’re up to. Merlin and Kilgharrah are finally starting to fix up Aithusa’s growth issues, Mordred’s magic is coming along very nicely, Merlin managed to grow and then destroy an entire mountain... you know... normal stuff.

Like Arthur had said, everything was in fact made clear to the council before the season’s end. They weren’t very happy, and a few of them even accused Morgana of enchanting Arthur, though they were quickly removed from the council room and replaced with the likes of Leon and Gwen and Morgana herself.

They only had a first draft to present to the councilmen, and information was still being sent in from the mountain-dwelling Warlocks and Leon and Elyan, still at the Druid camp, but they were making progress. They could only pray that weren’t too late to earn Merlin and Mordred’s forgiveness.

The repeal finally went through as summer faded to autumn, the trees were just about turning and it was becoming more consistently cold. Arthur found himself, in the middle of the city-wide celebrations, absentmindedly wondering whether Merlin and Mordred were keeping themselves warm enough in those dark caves.

They all plastered smiles on for the celebrations, though when the gang was out of the public eye, none of them hid their disappointment. Their Warlocks had been told the date of the repeal, had acknowledged it in their responding letter, and they had all hoped that their faces would be in the crowd when Arthur announced it to the public; but they were still nowhere to be found within the city.

No one missed the way Sir Lancelot disappeared a few days before the announcement, and had yet to return, though Gaius assured them that he was safe. When Gwaine knocked on Lancelot’s door in hopes of having a word moments after he spied the knight shutting the door behind him, only to walk into the room and find him vanished, he kept it to himself; teleportation was apparently something that could happen now, and there’s no point stirring the pot as it were, if Gaius was so sure he was alright.

Though to be honest, everyone had assumed he was with Merlin and Mordred anyway. It’s not like he would be anywhere else, not with the cold shoulder he had been giving everyone bar the elderly physician.

Eventually he reappeared, a week or so later. To say everyone was taken aback when a sparking golden circle, about seven feet across, appeared in the centre of the council room in the middle of a meeting would be an understatement. Leon absolutely did not yelp in surprise and reach for his sword, and Lord William will deny to his dying day that he almost fainted.

After a few moments the circle sharpened and stilled, and Lancelot walked through without a care in the world, appearing from the inky blackness with a raised eyebrow and a smug smile on his face. He looked back, saluting into the... portal (?) as if whoever was on the other side could see through the shadow; it suddenly faded from existence, and the knight turned to face his King:

“A small Druid contingent are on their way with the Lord Emrys, his two remaining kin, and his charge. Might I suggest a welcome is organised, My Lord?”

Arthur stares at him blankly for a few moments, brain kicking into gear when Gwen kicks him gently under the table:

“Uh... yeah, yes! Of course! Thank you, Sir Lancelot, for passing the message along.-”

Lance nods slowly, expecting a dismissal (or an invite to joint the meeting, where he should’ve been anyway), but Arthur’s face morphs into a small frown as he asks:

“-When can we expect them?”

Lancelot smiles again, trying to hide his amusement:

“Within the hour, I’d imagine.-”

Arthur’s eyes widen and the council members shuffle in sudden discomfort at having to organise something with such short notice. Lancelot bows his head briefly before turning to the door, speaking over his shoulder:

“-I’ll speak to the Steward about preparing some rooms, Sire.-”

Arthur nods wordlessly, trying his hardest to square his shoulders and settle his face into something resembling confidence, though that flies out of the window when Lance pauses in the doorway, turning back around with a cheery expression:

“Oh! It might be worth it to tell the knights and guards not to get the crossbows out, I have a feeling that they plan on... ahem... landing in the courtyard?”

Arthur’s eyes widen in shock and Leon pales, but Lancelot is shutting the door behind him and making his way down the corridor with a grin on his face before anyone can say anything.

Arthur, crown atop his head and red cloak billowing behind him, only just makes it to the courtyard steps in time to see Kilgharrah and Aithusa landing side by side on the cobblestones.

The gang manage to stay composed, at least on the outside, but the other council members looked about ready to piss themselves, despite the warning they’d received and the excited grin on Sir Lancelot’s face. Arthur had tried to keep the number of guards in the courtyard at a minimum, but he couldn’t dismiss all of them, and the remaining ones, despite being handpicked for their loyalty and bravery and quick acceptance of magic, shuffled uncomfortably at the sight of the apparently friendly beasts. The fact that the entire Kingdom would’ve seen the creatures circling and then landing in the citadel would also have to be addressed at some point, but Arthur will have to deal with that some other time, hopefully the Druid’s presence, the guards and knights explaining things, and the lack of warning bell would stop people from panicking too much.

The Druids, around twenty of them, filed into the courtyard through the main gates a few moments after Kilgharrah made his graceful landing and Aithusa made her... landing. Arthur held his breath, trying not to look as if he were glaring as he squinted at all the faces in the crowd, trying to find his Warlocks; it took Gwaine muttering “Holy shit...” and Leon giving him a subtle punch on the arm and nodding at Kilgharrah for him to finally see two figures sliding from The Great Dragon’s back.

Arthur clenched his jaw and squared his shoulders, plastering on a fake smile as the two figures, Merlin and Mordred, and one of the older Druids approached him on the steps. Aithusa seemed distracted, staring around in wonder at the great walls and turrets of the castle, though Kilgharrah sat regally, primly, giving Arthur a look of sufficiently snobby disinterest.

Merlin, dressed in blues and whites with a delicate crown of silver vines and leaves resting on his hair, approached Arthur with his head held high, and Arthur bowed slightly in respect:

“Lord Emrys, Sir Mordred, we welcome you back.”

If his voice shakes at the formal way he forces himself to speak to them, no one says anything, Merlin simply bows his head in return and turns to introduce the elder:

“This is Iseldir, the leader from Mordred’s former camp, you’ve met briefly.”

Arthur gives them a wide faux smile and nods, before gesturing to the citadel doors behind him, giving a questioning glance to the Dragons and remaining Druids. Merlin walks up the steps to greet Lancelot and Gaius, but Mordred spies Arthur’s confused look and speaks lowly, his voice calm and detached:

“Kilgharrah and Aithusa will fly back out and settle in a clearing just beyond the city, the Druids have a camp just next to it that they will be returning to, they’re only really here for the welcome.”

The King nods, shooting a mournful, but grateful smile to the younger man; Mordred returns the smile weakly, and Arthur has never been more grateful for such a tiny twitch of someone’s mouth before.

The official introductions were a little awkward, but thankfully, forcing himself through awkward political small talk was something that Arthur was somewhat a pro at, and within an hour of everyone’s dramatic entrance, the bulk of the Druids were moving back through the city towards their camp, and Iseldir was being shown to his room in the castle.

The only ones to remain in the throne room were the gang, including Gaius. Lancelot still has a mildly smug expression on his face, as does Mordred, but Merlin remains blank in the face of everyone else’s moroseness. It’s Leon that breaks the silence first, resisting the desperate urge to pull Merlin into a tight hug:

“I’ve no clue if you even want to hear this again but... we’re sorry Merlin, Mordred, we’re glad to see you back, and we... we hope you stay.”

Mordred remains still, but Merlin raises a scathing eyebrow before rolling his eyes and smiling fondly. He wraps his arms around the anxious knight’s middle, and huffs a laugh at the way the other man falls into the hug without reservation:

“We forgive you, you big blonde idiot. We just refused to make hypocrites out of you, we weren’t about to step foot back into Camelot until it was no longer illegal for us to exist.-”

Merlin pulls back, but leans into the strong grip Leon keeps on his shoulders, looking around at the relieved faces of everyone else:

“-We were angry, and we had every right to be,-”

Merlin chuckles and Mordred hides a snort behind his hand when they all vigorously nod:

“-but you’ve... started the road to fixing it. Thank you.”

Everyone stops holding back, and the two Warlocks are pulled into hug after hug, each seemingly tighter than the next. Morgana is the last to hug Merlin, and she does so with tears in her eyes and trembling hands:

“I’m so sorry, Merlin. Would... would you teach me? I’ve never felt power like yours.”

Merlin chuckles as he runs a soft hand over her spine, gratified to feel her relax in his embrace:

“I would love nothing more. From what Lance says, you’re already well on your way to becoming pretty powerful yourself.”

Morgana pulls back with a blush and Merlin raises an eyebrow at her shy humility, smiling widely at her eagerness to learn. Though honestly? It’s Arthur’s proud grin that makes Merlin happiest.

Arthur Pendragon, proud and excited for magic; who’d have thought?

THE END!!

I hope y’all liked this!!! I really struggled finishing it off but I’ve finally got there :D

Next, there’ll be a Fae!Merlin piece that isn’t on my prompt list, then it’ll be back to The List!!

681 notes · View notes

oro-e-diamanti · 3 years

Text

Quiet Music: Leggiero (Chapter Three)

aIn collaboration with @bethanysnow

Small touches, looks, and wine-soaked daydreams lead to whispered conversations on balconies' edge. Put out cigarettes in the middle of the night. Let lips touch as palms do - eventually...

Content | Fluff

Pairing | fem!Reader x Damiano

Word count | 7111

Tag list | @damianodavide @lizstans @unitermoonshine @its-afucking-mess @ethaneskin @dont-let-me-drown-in-you@vampirtet @lividisuigomiti @juststalking @tabi-toast @ethan-torchio-angelo @cheese-toastie-11 @thewitchinthemountain @ethanesimp @sofckinelectric @man3skin @daddydamiano @finelinejpm @superchrystaldrug @ginny-lily @everythingisdefinitelynotfine @nientedaridere @rainbowmarta @tiaamberxx @shaunthesheesh @enjcltaire @rocketqueen @aleksanderwh0r3 @dacey0eg @damianodavidhands @megann-duff @teatrodellavita @coven-daddy @till-you-scream-and-cry @solasullabarca @fanfictionandfluff @makapaka11 @slave4yourlove @geklutst-ei @bidet-and-legolas @ginny-lily

***

The bus rumbled underneath Damiano as he turned around in his bunk, the humming of the vehicle drowning out the clatter and chatter of his bandmates in the background. His head was pounding, but less because of the little alcohol he had consumed the night before and more because of the thoughts that had kept him up all night. This morning, he had made sure to be up before Y/n would come around for her wake up call, got ready and then all but crawled into the bunk on his bus for more sleep. They would play a gig in the evening, but for now he was thankful for the 6-hour drive to Oslo with nothing to do.

He could almost feel himself drifting off, body tired out and mind exhausted, but instead all that he saw when he closed his eyes were scenes from last night.

The room was filled with laughter. Music and Vic’s singing, as Damiano let himself fall onto the bed next to Y/n. She looked gorgeous, hair down, relaxing, a champagne flute in her hand and a slight smile on her face. Even though he knew she’d be worrying about what Thomas was doing to the room and how she was going to get them out of bed the next morning. But mostly she was just gorgeous and he told her so.

His hand reached out before the contemplation of this action had been finished in his brain. The adrenaline from the first show of the tour had him flying, soaring, and there was nothing that could possibly bring him down. Her eyes showed surprise but she didn’t pull away as he put a strand of her hand behind her ear. The gesture was small but Damiano felt like he was on fire, briefly stroking the soft skin under his fingers before pulling back.

He found himself babbling about his hair, but he was much more interested in what she had to say. He wished she would talk about herself more often - so much of his personality was so out there, so much information about himself was literally out there, in magazines and interviews and photos, but she had her walls up, even when they were joking, even when she seemed to be talking freely.

“You’re getting more interesting with every second I’m around you, you know?” The words slipped out of his mouth so easily. She went over it just as easily. Did she not care? Did she not find him interesting? He had hoped for some sort of reply or reaction, but she just continued talking. Maybe she wasn’t interested in him… His brain only allowed the thought for a minute. No, he told himself, she simply was this way. Cool, calm, collected. He was sure he would be able to get her out of her shell further one of these days. He wasn’t going to stop trying.

Next thing he knew, she had thrust her phone into his hand, some picture of her from years ago. He didn’t care much about the outfit or the makeup or the questionable hair, it was her smile that drew him in. There was something carefree about it, something unabashedly confident, something she seemed to have lost since then. There was no way back for him he realised in that moment - it might as well have been this woman or no other ever again.

Next thing he knew, he was complimenting her again, calling her darling, but this time he didn’t have to wait long for a reaction. The drink that had been in her mouth just a second ago was now spluttered on her clothes and some of the bedding. He was about to ask her if she was alright, but she had jumped up from the bed, hands trying to hide her reddening face, and dashed to the bathroom.

Fuck, what happened?

“Damiano! What did you do to the poor girl!” Vic shouted in amusement from across the room. He simply waved it off. He wasn’t actually sure what he had done and it bothered him more than he would like to admit - especially in front of his bandmates. Maybe he had come on too strong, tried too hard, had made it awkward. His plan had been to pay her compliments - not scare her away with them. He would have to reconsider his course of action.

When she came back, it was only to say a quick goodnight, waving and leaving. She only spared him a brief glance, no smile or any reassurance that they were fine.

It had not stopped going through his mind. This morning, she had pretended like nothing had happened, but he knew she had been avoiding his gaze and her smiles didn’t seem quite as genuine as they did before. Damiano let out a low groan into his pillow. This was a mess and a half.

The curtain of his bunk was drawn back harshly, revealing Ethan’s face.

“Why would you scare me like that!” Damiano complained. “I could be jacking off in here!”

“Well, I want to assume you wouldn’t do that in a semi-public space such as this,” Ethan replied with contemplation on his face.

“What do you want anyway?”

“Victoria sent me and told me to tell you, I quote,” Ethan cleared his throat. “‘Stop moping, Damiano, it’s no fun'. So, there you go.”

Without another word, Ethan turned back around, leaving the curtain open, and walked back into the kitchenette of the bus. Out of the corner of his eye, Damiano could see him stealing a bit of fruit from the fruit bowl. He felt no motivation to join them.

***

“He alright?” Y/n whispered to Thomas, who was sitting close to her, guitar on his lap. He just shrugged. Ethan rejoined the group with an unreadable expression on his face, sitting down next to Victoria. Y/n shot him another concerned look, but he simply shrugged as well. She shook her head and got up from her spot, walking over to the counter to make breakfast for everyone. Getting out the waffle maker. Putting the Moka pot on the stove and filling it with water. Too early in the morning for rock and roll. In the background, she could hear the band discussing rehearsals and the show in Oslo.

As soon as the smell of food hit the three bandmates, they were all over Y/n, hovering around the little kitchenette, pushing and shoving each other to be first. Y/n looked at all of them in turn. Thomas was currently standing on the couch, raising his hand to smack an unsuspecting Vic who was looking the other way. A single raised brow from Y/n got him back down onto the ground.

“Hey! I’m older, I go first!” Victoria pushed Thomas back.

“Maybe, but it still took your mum nine months to think of a good joke,” Thomas retorted.

Ethan turned around, chuckling at his friends’ banter - but Y/n’s reaction was far more blatant. She started to laugh, a loud, almost cackle that the band had never heard before. Her smile easily reached her eyes and she gave a little applause at Thomas’ joke. “I- I;” she gasped in between laughs, “I know it’s not that funny but it just got me, sorry!” Finally managing to bite her tongue, she went back to serving breakfast.

Out of the corner of her eye, Y/n saw Damiano leaning so far out of his bunk to find out where the sounds and the laughter were coming from. The driver though couldn’t have known it was a bad moment to go over a pothole. With a loud thud, Damiano crashed out from his bunk and onto the hard floor. Chili, excited at the prospect of being able to reach him, ran over to lick his face.

“Eh! Chili, hi. Vic! Come get your dog!” He groaned, picking up the golden fluff and sending it back to her owner. She trotted away happily, over towards Victoria, who was a giggling mess after seeing her friend’s fall. He rolled his eyes at her grin.

“You gonna come join us, sleepy boy? I made coffee,” Y/n said, still trying to keep the peace between everyone. Pouring coffee into a mug, she walked over to Damiano and bent down, handing him the beverage. “I don’t really care if you want to spend the entire day on the floor, but I think your fans might tonight. So come join the party, hm?” Her voice was soft and enticing. Damiano’s eyes sparkled at her invitation. But still, his face was burning red. He sighed and nodded.

Y/n stepped back, taking the cup after he had taken a long sip, and reached her hand out to him. With a swift movement, Damiano was back up on his feet, immediately losing his balance and crashing into Y/n’s shoulder. More blushing on his part. He had not been expecting this amount of strength from her. Not caring about his little bump into her, she dusted him off, picking some fuzz out of his hair, her hand so close to his face, yet so far. She handed him the coffee once again and gave him a smile, before going back to her little corner on the bus as everyone devoured their breakfast.

Damiano watched as she tidied up after everyone had finished, constantly making sure what was effectively their home during tour would stay homely. She always looked like she belonged, and he admired her for that. After one last wipe down of the counter, she quickly addressed everyone on the bus, asking if she was needed for anything else right now, and after a round of head-shaking from everyone, she grabbed her laptop and retired to a quiet corner on the bus. It was only when she briefly looked up to find his eyes and gave a slight smile that he realised he was still watching her every move. Embarrassing, he scolded himself.

Damiano started fumbling for his bag, grabbing a notebook and a pen. He had too many thoughts running around in his head, too many images and ideas about Y/n, and he felt like the only way to get rid of them was to write. Maybe he’d even be able to make something out of it. Anything would be better than staring and dreaming about her anyway.

***

Two more hours until Oslo. With a heavy sigh, Y/n pushed the laptop away from her, neck cracking as she finally moved her bones a little. Suddenly, a pair of hands came down onto her shoulders. She only flinched for a moment before she realised it was Damiano, slowly starting to massage her tense flesh. Her head fell forward and she waved her hand to have him keep going. His fingertips digging into hours of uni work, work work, other work. Tension all living in her neck being slowly worked away by the singer.

"I'm not gonna turn down a free massage," she chuckled, feeling his talented fingers remove knot after knot. Then, suddenly, they became softer. She could hear Thomas in the background shouting something at Damiano. Taking his attention away from her, and all it left was soft fingertips on the sensitive skin on her neck. Dancing along and leaving goosebumps in their wake without him even knowing what he was doing to her. She shivered under such a light touch. A groan left her lips as she was falling deeper under his spell. At this point, she didn’t care. A very pretty man was smoothing his hands over her neck and shoulders and it was nothing short of lovely. Normally this wouldn’t be on Y/n's top list of things she would allow - but a 6-hour bus ride and sitting in one place for most of it was a killer.

I could fall asleep like this - fuck…

She was snapped back to reality when she realised that Damiano was once again staring at her screen, asking what she was working on, hands never moving from their position. She wasn’t sure how she was supposed to concentrate like this.

“Oh, I’ve, um,” she awkwardly fumbled with the laptop, “I’ve been trying to memorise this sonnet. I’m doing a course on Shakespeare this semester and we’ve been told to pick our favourite by him and I think I finally decided on mine. It’s Sonnet 128 - um. One of the only sonnets to give you an actual scene in place. It’s from the perspective of this guy watching a bard and just craving to be touched, used, kissed by this person. To have the same sort of attentive mastery be directed at him instead of the player’s instrument. Describing the person listening to this bard play… Wait, would you just like me to read it to you?” Y/n looked up at Damiano. He nodded as he slid into the seat beside her. She moved the laptop so she could see its screen still and began to speak.

***

Sitting next to her wasn’t as bad as Damiano thought. After working on her neck and shoulders, her perfume had rubbed off onto his skin. Light and warm, not super floral, but he didn’t peg Y/n to be a flower kind of woman anyway. Looking at her face now, he noticed things he hadn’t seen before. Faint freckles, little lines around her eyes, the pink tint on her lips. Her hair was done up again in a bun. He could see a couple of bobby pins trying to hide in her wild hair. Then she started to recite the piece and his chest was exploding. He felt as if he was watching winter melt away and spring come.

“How oft, when thou, my music, music play’st”

Oh, what he would do to be her muse, Damiano thought. Her voice, low and soft, was like music itself to him, never mind the way her eyes lit up at the words she repeated from the screen. A little light inside of her, one he hadn’t encountered before.

“Upon that blessed wood whose motion sounds With thy sweet fingers, when thou gently sway’st”

Her fingers were just as sweet, his mind piped up as he tried to listen to her more closely. Some light polish on her nails that he hadn’t noticed before, but now that she was scrolling through the laptop, it was like he couldn’t keep his eyes off them. Quickly exploring images of them tangled in his hair, scratching down his back ever so slightly. Stop, he told in his own head in vain. Just stop and listen, for once. Yet the ideas of her he had hidden away kept demanding attention.

“The wiry concord that mine ear confounds,

Do I envy those jacks that nimble leap

To kiss the tender inward of thy hand,”

He tried so hard to concentrate. To listen, to take in the words she was reciting, to grasp their meaning and what they meant to her, but it was hard, getting harder. In an uncalculated move on his part, his arm swung around her shoulders, not pulling her closer, just letting her know he was there, right now, right here, with her. His hand resting on her upper arms, feeling the warmth underneath the fabric of her blouse.

“Whilst my poor lips, which should that harvest reap,

At the wood’s boldness by thee blushing stand!”

His eyes travelled up from her fingers, over her soft and curvy figure, her delicate neck, to her blushing face. She was blushing an awful lot with him and he had not yet figured out completely if this was a good sign or not. Either way, he thought she looked adorable, a natural pink on her cheeks. Slightly restless eye movements that didn’t match up to the words she was reading, a certain nervousness overtaking her. He wanted to make her blush like that for the rest of his life if he could. He silently wondered if she would blush that much if… if it was just the two of them, alone in some random hotel room, a whole world of exploration before them.

“To be so tickled, they would change their state

And situation with those dancing chips,

O’er whom thy fingers walk with gentle gait,

Making dead wood more blest than living lips.”

His eyes betrayed him, flicking down to her lips as soon as she said the word. Soft, a light tint on them, pronouncing every syllable in the most mindful way. He wondered if she would let him kiss her. What. His brain flickered between two emotions. Yes, yes, yes. He would give everything to feel her sweet mouth on his, getting her close, inhaling her scent, pouring his every thought into a kiss. No. What was he thinking? She was their assistant. Strong, gorgeous, fiercely independent, and surely not interested. Right? He couldn’t help wondering. Would she let him kiss her? Would she want him to? Had she thought about it, the way he was right now?

“Since saucy jacks so happy are in this,

Give them thy fingers, me thy lips to kiss.”

Their eyes met and Damiano hadn’t even noticed how much closer he had edged towards her. It would only take a little bit, one more breather, a tiny motion, to put his lips on her, to feel what she was feeling, and the way she looked at him had him craving, obsessing and he almost dared himself to do it, when a voice pulled him out of his thoughts, pulled him away from her.

“Y/N! I don’t understand how the waffle maker works!”

Damiano had never wanted to kill his bandmate more than at that moment. With a groan he turned around, seeing Thomas fumble with the appliances in their little kitchen area, a dumbstruck look on his face, and puppy dog eyes pleading Y/n for help. She only gave a low chuckle, before getting up and walking over to the guitarist, leaving Damiano with a head full of thoughts that all circled around her.

***

That was close, Jesus Christ! My face is so warm… how are his eyes that pretty? How have I never noticed that before? I wonder if he was thinking about the same thing as I was back there…

***

The crowd was roaring out by the main stage. Crew held their places waiting for the queue to go. The band stood off stage trying to sneak a peek at the audience. Hundreds more people than they were expecting. Y/n sat in a metal chair that was dubbed ‘her chair’ so she could watch the performance from behind the main curtain to cheer the band on without being seen. The lights in the main room were being lowered, the playlist that had been on in the background slowly being turned off, as the noise of the audience got impossibly louder. The band was getting nervous now, the good kind of nervous. Thomas jumping around to get his energy levels up before they would get the sign to get on stage. Y/n smiled at them in turn, returning a little wave Ethan was giving her. Just as they were given the go-ahead, and all of them started to jog on stage, Damiano took a little detour, sending her a smile that would set all the butterflies free in her stomach, before pressing a little kiss to her forehead. He was gone before she had a chance to react. Yet, she froze. Damiano looked back and it was the most perplexed, confused, and adorable expression he had ever seen on her.

It was an expression Damiano couldn’t get out of his head for the rest of the concert, even long after she had lost it - and he knew she had because he couldn’t keep himself from looking over at her every now and again. He was fascinated by the way she watched them.

And if she was watching? Well, then he was going to put on a show.

He pulled all the tricks he knew - well those that were fitted to the situation and venue. During one of their songs, he decided to pull his favourite one. With a low grunt, he ripped his shirt apart, throwing it across the stage, unable to wipe the smile off his face. Until he looked over to where his top had landed and his eyes fell onto Y/n, standing beside the stage, now with a performance-rich torn tank top on her face. Maybe his aim had been a little off. The look on her face as she removed the fabric made him laugh. At least she isn’t hiding now, he thought, before going back to the song.

During “You need me, I don’t need you”, one of the covers they had chosen for the night, he couldn’t fight the grin, knowing his favourite lyric of the night was coming up.

“Melody music maker, reading all the papers, they say I’m up and coming like I’m fucking in an elevator.”

Where Damiano would usually take the chance to suggestively hump the mic stand and focus on the audience, this time he did it while looking straight at Y/n. Her face clouded red, eyes looking at him with a flustered glare. He simply winked at her.

Similar things kept happening throughout the night, any song to do with sex or romance, any innuendo, it was all directed at her. To him, it was all about her all the time, and he made sure to let her know.

***

After one last encore, the band left the stage, the sound of the crowd chanting their names in the background. Once backstage, they all exchanged hugs, all pumped up from the adrenaline and the successful show. A massive gift basket sat in the corner, filled with beers, chocolates, some skincare products, and flowers, along with a note from the venue welcoming them to Oslo and thanking them for playing. Vic immediately grabbed Y/n.

“When we get back to the hotel - up for a girl’s night?” Wriggling her eyebrows at the assistant, she picked out some of the products from the red tulle in the basket.

“As if I could say no to you.”

***

“Okay, what’s first, face mask or red wine?” Victoria asked, holding up both items in her hands as she followed Y/n into the hotel room, Chili yapping at both of their feet, dying to get attention from anyone.

“I will pour the wine if you open the face mask stuff,” Y/n decided, picking up Chili for some snuggles, before putting the dog down on the bed and grabbing the wine glasses. “Don’t have a girls' night often, so this is nice.”

“I keep having them with the boys but it’s not really the same,” Vic laughed. “They never want me to pluck their eyebrows or anything! Oh, and please be careful with the wine around Chili, I drenched her once and it didn’t come out of her fur for ages.”

“You - you did what now? Wait, nope, I don’t wanna know. But to be honest, I would kill to get Ethan on my lap with some tweezers in my hand. Boy, does he need it. Not by much, sweet guy. Just, uh, you know?” Within a moment or two wine was being poured and handed to the blonde. “I didn’t know how much you would want but we can always add more,” Y/n stated, hopping onto the bed next to Vic.

“Oh, very sweet guy with unpredictable hair, really!” Vic said, grabbing the glass and downing more than half of it in one go already, before sitting down next to Y/n with the little pot she had opened and a little applicator for the cream. “That’s so fancy, I usually just slap it on my face with my fingers.”

“Same! Thinking we’re posh fucks, aren’t they?” Y/n grinned, looking at the tiny skincare items, another sip of wine. Chili curled up between the two women. “You looked like you had fun at the concert.”

“It’s so good to be back on the road and I feel like we’ve really found ourselves as a band now. We’ve only played two shows but it’s already my favourite tour. I’m convinced it’s because you’re here, too, by the way, you really fit in with us,” Victoria smiled at her, sipping from the glass, then putting it away on the nightstand and motioning for Y/n to do the same. “Come here, I’m gonna do your face.”

“Ah, I wouldn’t say that. You guys have been absolutely killing it. You got here by your own accomplishments and will, that’s hard to do. I am far more surprised at how well I’ve been able to fit in with you all. I’m, uh, as you can see,” putting the glass away, she scooted to face Victoria, “not as… ‘rock and roll’ and I would have assumed you’d want your assistant to be. But glad I got stuck with you though.”

“Oh, shush,” Vic said, sternly, as she began applying the cream to Y/n’s face. “You fit in just fine. Firstly, I think we definitely need someone to keep us grounded a bit sometimes and secondly, I am absolutely convinced there’s a lot more rock and roll in you than you think - you just wait until you’ve been exposed to us for longer, you’ll see!”

“Well, I agree with the grounded part. You realise that today during breakfast Thomas was climbing on the sofa about to smack your head just to get further in line? That boy does not stop.” She relaxed into Vic’s touch, silently deciding that girls' nights needed to be a more regular thing. This was great. “Ethan said something similar - something about ‘head banging right along with everyone else’. You all have it out for me don’t you?!” She asked, putting on an overly dramatic, surprised look.

“No, he didn’t!” She exclaimed, astounded. “I’m gonna get him back for that tomorrow. Anyway, Ethan was right, you won’t be able to resist our bad influence forever, Y/n! So, have you been to gigs before taking this job, or is this still something new to you?”

“I have been to gigs before, but they were more music festivals, and I was never one for EDM or anything. The heat and lots of glittery, sweaty people drunk on warm beer? No, thank you. Or they would get a new assistant for a tour and the job would end. Not in a bad way, it's just how it is as an assistant. You do your job until they don’t need you anymore.” She shrugged. “I don’t know if it’s the wine or you, but I don’t think I’ve talked this much about myself really since I started this job. Not this particular job, mind you, but the whole P.A. thing.” Y/n chuckled, pulling her hair back into a tighter ponytail to keep out of the way of the fancy skincare.

“Hm, now I just keep thinking of putting glitter on you and getting you in the middle of a good punk gig one of these days,” Vic giggled as she finished up Y/n’s facemask, motioning for her to return the favour. “Let’s make the most of this wine then, I’m going to pour you another glass and you tell me a bit more about yourself.”

Grabbing the little pot of face mask, Y/n gently held Vic’s face, slowly applying the cream. “I’m going to be an alcoholic by the end of the tour, aren’t I? Um, well, I had a boyfriend, he was a prick, we broke up. My best friend lives in London in our old flat. My favourite films are old Hollywood romances. ‘Singing in the rain’, stuff like that. I dunno really. I’m just Y/n. Though I was thinking we should find a way to line Damiano’s trousers so that if they - when they rip apart, you see the lining and not the man’s underwear. Not that I think he cares, actually.” She truly was unable to turn work off completely, even on a night off.

Victoria couldn’t contain the giggle, receiving a scolding look from Y/n, who almost put the cream in her hair by mistake. “Thinking about Damiano’s underwear a lot, huh? Can’t blame you, that man is as pretty as they come. You can be happy they’ve all not gotten to the point where they just hang out on the tour bus in just their boxer shorts, but believe me, that day will come sooner or later!”

“I have not!” She insisted as her face betrayed her, telling a completely different story. “That is unprofessional and objectifying. I hope it doesn’t happen at all. You saw my face before when you all decided to ‘put on a little show’ in the dressing room.” She took the glass from Vic to take a sip. “Anyway.” She started blending out the face mask with fingers, careful not to get it into Victoria’s hair. “Would there be anything you want to know? I am never good at talking about myself.”

Chili nuzzled into Victoria’s leg, getting more needy. “I don’t want to cross any boundaries here, but honestly - why do you work so hard? I’ve only known you for like three days but you never seem to relax, you’re always either busy working for us or working on your projects and when you have a minute to breathe you end up cleaning after us or just going above and beyond taking care of us. I’m not complaining,” she held her hands up, laughing. “It’s great, but it’s a lot, huh?”

“Um… I can’t lie. Not to you or the band. Lying isn’t good for you anyway. But.. I don’t know. Lots of stuff happened before I moved to Italy. Lots of not-so-good stuff. So, I had a lot of reserved pent-up energy, still do. So I had to find ways to put it into things. Now I put it into my work because it’s my new dream. I put it into the band because I care about you. I want to see this tour do well…” Y/n stopped for a moment, caught off guard by the question, looking back and forth between Victoria and her own reflection in the wine. “I want to prove to myself that I can achieve and be successful. I am also a giant workaholic, though, like it’s bad,” she giggled, as Chili now put a paw on Vic’s thigh, demanding attention.

“Well, if you gotta do that whole workaholic thing, I’m glad you’re doing it for us,” Vic smiled, placing a soft hand on Y/n’s arm. “Just make sure to make some time to let loose every now and again. I’m sure any of us would be happy to help you with that.” She turned on her phone to check the time. “I should probably get this mask off now, give me a second,” she explained before getting up and skipping to the bathroom sink.

“Yeah, that’d be good,” Y/n said, also taking note of the time. “Doesn’t Chili need to go out now? There’s no grass on the balcony or I’d let her do her business here.” She stood up, placing the wine glasses on a little counter, trying to force the cork back into the bottle. “Thank you for tonight though, we should make it a thing.”

“Yeah, I’ll take her out for her evening walk now.” Victoria came back, hair slightly damp from where she had washed her face too hastily. “But let’s definitely do this again, next to Ethan you’re like the most calming person on this tour to hang out with.” She moved to give her a hug, only to realise Y/n still had the mask on, so instead, she opted for an awkward shoulder rub and a giggle. “I’ll see you tomorrow, yeah?”

“You do realise it is my job to follow you around and see you tomorrow? Like, that is what I am paid to do. But hell, I’d still do it if it wasn’t my job,” she smiled, nudging Vic’s shoulder. “Now go get Chili out and then get some sleep yeah? Important things like sleep, food, water, everything you people seem to keep forgetting about!”

“Well, that’s what we have you for now, don’t we?” Victoria laughed, picking up a whining Chili and already halfway out the door. “But you get some sleep too! No working through the night, I am ordering you to bed - as your boss!”

“Of course!” Y/n laughed, shutting the door behind the bassist. After taking off her mask, she put the rest of Vic’s leftover wine into her glass and went out onto the balcony with her laptop. Pulling out all the bobby pins and the hair tie, she ran her fingers through her hair, brushing out the knots and letting it hang loose. The light from the sunset had long been gone by the time they had gotten to the hotel. Only street lights and the blue screen were illuminating the space of the balcony. The outdoor space was large enough for a table and chairs. The street down below was faintly noisy as people and cars passed by, but not enough to disturb her peace and quiet.

***

So much for an early night, Damiano thought, staring at the screen of his phone, as Ethan slept soundly in the next bed. With a sigh, he kicked the blanket off his legs, grabbing a pack of cigarettes from the nightstand, and sneaking out onto the balcony without waking his bandmate. Maybe a smoke would help. His eyes drifted from the rather unspectacular view out front to where he noticed movement to his right, only to see Y/n on her own balcony, right next to his.

Y/n was relaxing in her chair, glass of wine in her hands, mouthing the words to something on the computer in front of her. Entirely focused on whatever she was working on, she didn’t notice Damiano’s door opening and closing. She took a drink of her wine, leaving a dark red stain on her lips, then stood up to face the street. Laptop on her arm and looking outward, she mumbled the words on the screen to herself. He just about managed to make out what she was saying.

“But soft! What light through yonder window breaks?

It is the east, and Juliet is the sun.

Arise, fair sun, and kill the envious moon,

Who is already sick and pale with brief- Wait, no. Grief. Okay.” She cleared her throat. “Who is already sick and pale with grief. Stupid tiny font is gonna be de death of me,” she mumbled, trying to zoom into the text.

Damiano watched her, a chuckle on his lips, both amused and amazed at seeing her play out the scene on her own. With a quick flick of his lighter, he turned to his cigarette, taking a drag, wide awake. The low light of the moon was illuminating her figure and her hazy movements and for a while he allowed himself to simply be fascinated by her. By the way she moved. Performing fully committed to the open air. Then she made a particularly dramatic, sweeping gesture in her monologue and he knew he couldn’t keep quiet any longer.

“Hey there, Juliet.”

The surprise went through her like an electric shock, she was stumbling over nothing, almost dropping the laptop from her arms, as she turned around towards him so fast, he was sure her hair was going to give her whiplash.

“Ah fuck - Damiano?!” She gasped delicately into the night. “You’re going to give me a heart attack one of these days!”

Hopefully, for very different reasons, he thought to himself.

“Sorry,” he sheepishly replied. “What are you doing? It’s almost 2 am.”

“You know I could very well ask you the same thing.” She looked at him accusingly. “If you didn’t have the day off tomorrow I’d be ordering you back to bed immediately.”

Damiano briefly considered a suggestive comment, but instead, let the cigarette between his lips keep him quiet. Y/n was putting her laptop away now, sinking back down into the lounge chair as he walked over to the edge of his own balcony, leaning over the railing to get a better look at her.

“You know I’ve not forgiven you for your antics at the concert tonight yet,” she suddenly stated, pulling him from his thoughts. The smirk flashed over his face naturally. He wondered if she was blushing again, but the little light the moon and her laptop screen gave off didn’t tell him anything. He was hoping she was.

“I promise I didn’t mean to hit your face with my top,” he laughed.

“But you obviously did mean everything else you did!” An accusing finger was pointed his way. “I did not appreciate that.”

For a second he flinched, wondering if he had gone too far, crossing a boundary. But then she looked back at him with a smile she was obviously trying to push away, unsuccessfully. Glass of wine in her hand, she sauntered over to him, while he put out his cigarette on the railing. She leant over her own railing, mirroring his movements. At a slow pace, like she knew he was watching, she sipped from her glass. His eyes falling to the way her neck was exposed as she threw her head back, tracing the soft skin with his glances until she set down the drink. There was a droplet of red wine on her lip and he wished their balconies were closer together, fantasising about reaching out and wiping it away, feeling just how soft she would be under his touch.

“Not that… I didn’t like it.” She paused. “Also not the first time I’ve been hit in the face with a shirt. So there’s that.” Y/n laughed.

“Now you’ve got me curious - who else would hit you with a shirt? Are you trying to tell me you’ve been to strip clubs?” Damiano laughed. Teasing her came easy to him.

“Dancers. With aim as terrible as yours, Mr. David. And I don’t know if you want the answer to the second question,” she smirked. When they were alone like this, she seemed more at ease. That, or it was the wine. He didn’t know.

“Dancers, huh? Think you could teach me a thing or two? Or, you know, were you just watching, lusting over sexy men?”

“Ah! I would do nothing of the sort. Most of the guys there weren’t into girls anyway. Wouldn’t do me much good… Damiano, I could teach a lot of things. You to dance? God help us all.” She made a dramatic cross across her body, laughter twinkling in her eyes.

“Now, Y/n, I’d let you teach me whatever you wanted,” he winked. “Preferably something… active, hm?” He could keep from laughing as he saw her unimpressed face, staring him down and shaking her head. He’d rile her up for the rest of his life if she gave him the chance.

“I once met this Italian guy, came to the studio. Thought he was God’s gift to dance. But you Italians all have that, bravado, confidence, whatever you wanna call it. Well, after learning the first intermediate step, he fell flat on his face and went back to beginner lessons. You gonna be like that?” Raising a brow at him, she leant further over the railing on her side.

Damiano puffed up his chest, comically, trying to make himself appear bigger in a useless attempt to impress her. “Now, you’ve obviously not met the right Italians yet, amore mio. Sounds to me like you need a real Italian to show you the way.”

Just like this morning, she burst out laughing, letting out cackles that filled the air with joy. “Sorry - not laughing at you. Just thought what you said was funny.” She looked down, and as dark as it was, he could see the same signs he had seen before. Shy expression, holding herself close to her body. The slight panic of not knowing what to say. “You’re real Italian, alright. You seem to always know what to say. Now is that an Italian thing or a Damiano thing?” She asked, sarcastically, to deflect the fact that her face was heating up.

Amore mio…that's what did it. He felt like he was unlocking a single puzzle piece at a time, slowly putting her together and making sense of her. He couldn’t wait to get the whole picture one of these days. “Maybe it’s a you thing,” he simply said. The night was making him strangely comfortable with being honest. “Maybe you just bring it out in me.”

“Eh - I’ve been told I bring out a lot of things, never a savant before.” She was still looking down, at her hands, starting to pick at her nail polish. Some little nervous tick that he hadn’t caught onto till now. “It’s late, you should go to sleep, Dami. I am sure that bed is missing its handsome owner right about now.” She started to look far away, picking up the wine glass and taking the last sip.

He had barely heard what she had said - too focused on her calling him Dami, for the very first time. It was like a little shudder running through him, knowing she was growing closer to him as the time passed. “Are you okay, though? I’m sure my bed will survive without me a little bit longer.”

“Oh, I’ll be fine. Don’t you worry about me, I worry enough as it is. Tomorrow is a day off, so I won’t be waking you up in the morning, bus call isn’t until later. Um, but I will be getting breakfast. Is there anything you would want?”

“As long as it involves coffee, I’m happy. I’m sure you’ll pick out the perfect thing anyway.” Damiano watched as she nodded, moving towards the balcony doors and away from him. He felt like grabbing her just to keep her there. He straightened up as well, just barely backing away from the railing. As she left he looked at the space she once occupied, feeling like he could almost make out the outline of her body where it once had been.

Amore mio...

#maneskin fiction #damiano david fiction #damiano david imagine #damiano david x you #ethan torchio x reader #maneskin imagine #maneskin x you #maneskin x reader #thomas raggi x reader #damiano david x reader #writers block #bethanysnow #quiet music

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marley-manson · 2 years

Note

Hannibal and will!

Thank you!

Send me a ship and I’ll answer three questions based on if I ship it or not.

Ship It

What made you ship it?

Funnily enough, I actually didn't ship it while watching the show the first time until literally the season 3 finale. See, I believed that Hannibal was manipulating Will the whole time and it was basically a horror story about poor Will being brainwashed into wanting to murder people and all that, and while I enjoyed the homoeroticism a lot and even read some fic, it's just not the kind of thing I'm really into, I find moustache twirling villailn/woobie victim boring as ship material.

The moment that made me go 'wait a second... wait just one fucking second, I've been wrong the whole time, this is actually a perfect ship for me' was Will's sip of wine while looking down at Hannibal bleeding out after he let Dolarhyde shoot him.

I was expecting throughout the entirety of the Red Dragon arc that Hannibal was somehow playing a long manipulative game and he’d reveal it in the finale, so I guess when it turned out that nope, he had no plan he was just going wherever the fuck Will took him up to and including his death, it made me reconsider everything.

So the day after the finale aired I marathoned the whole show again in like three days with eyes wide open and saw everything in a new light and really fell head over heels for the show.

What are your favorite things about the ship?

Hannibal's super intense feelings. The parallel between him and Franklyn. Hannibal trying to eat Will's brain to get over him, failing, and going to the opposite extreme and spending 3 years in jail right after because the brain eating was like, a last-ditch attempt to save himself from his own feelings. Will falling in love over the course of season 2 not despite wanting to kill Hannibal but because of it, as illustrated through very sexually suggestive murder fantasies.

Will asserting his own agency at the end of season 1. Hannibal's smile in the last shot of season 1 not because he "won" or anything but because Will knows who he is now. Will pulling a gun on Hannibal. Their murdery "with my hands" dirty talk. The ortorlan blowjob scene, instant classic. Hannibal letting Dolarhyde shoot him not to save Will or anything, but just because that's how Will wanted them to die. The fact that Dolarhyde only kills families so it was basically Hannibal accepting a marriage proposal when you think about it. Will changing his mind and killing Dolarhyde with Hannibal instead. "I gave you a child, if you recall."

The fucking tearfully smug look on Hannibal's face when he kills Abigail. Will fantasizing about killing Jack and running away with Hannibal. Bedelia's exasperation with Hannibal's pining and her manipulating him because of it in season 3. Everything about Sorbet, Tome Wan, and Digestivo, aka the three best episodes of anything ever. Man I could go on forever but I gotta stop.

Is there an unpopular opinion you have on your ship?

I think the most likely scenario is Hannibal and Will killing other serial killers, but I think if it came down to it Hannibal is more likely to give up murder than Will is to take up murder. Hannibal already functionally gave up murder not even for a relationship, but just in the hopes of seeing Will again and like, not being forgotten, when he turned himself in in Digestivo. Also I think if they do start killing killers it'd 100% be Will's idea, not Hannibal's. Hannibal is not rocking that boat now that he's finally in it by trying to manipulate or force Will into murder again lol. At best I could see him handing Will a newspaper detailing a new serial killer with a hopeful expression lol.

#marley on hannibal #text post #arbitrarily breaking up that long ass list into paragraphs to save your eyes #idk about you but i cannot read page long paragraphs

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stephspurs · 3 years

Text

A Family Affair | Euro 2020 Football Fanfiction

hi guys and gals! Part 7 sees friendship strengthened, decisions being made and love ultimately hurting. As always, please enjoy the next part and let me know what you think is going to happen in part eight! I actually love hearing from you all so please don't be too shy to reach out and message me - I love a good chat LOL Love always, Steph xx

Part 7 | settima parte

warnings; love sucks man. word count; 1850 writing tools; third person until dashed line, first person thereafter. next update; Monday 09/08 5pm AEST. Updates are three times/week (Monday, Wednesday & Friday)! Tags (as requested by users); @footballffbarbiex @obsesseds-world @abysshaven link to fic masterlist here

“bella amelia, cosa ho fatto per meritarmi questa telefonata?” (beautiful amelia, what did i do to deserve this phone call?) Jorginho spoke his second-native tongue down the line to the British girl, calling him way past her self-appointed bedtime of 9pm.

“Jorgi, ho bisogno del consiglio di un amico” (Jorgi, i need the advice of a friend). Amelia, almost desperately, pleaded down the line to the boy who became her therapist.

It had been a few days since Amelia & Jack’s facetime where they sat and listened to the countless offers the successful girl had waiting in her voice message inbox. Being the person that she is, Amelia needed to distract herself from obsessing over the messages so she threw herself into her job. Spending too many hours over her paid allocation at Juventus training ground, getting administrative work done for the season ahead.

Was this her way of nesting? Or empty-nesting? Was she subconsciously preparing the club and her boys for life without her? Getting them ready with a season's worth of set pieces and tactical plays that would secure them an outstanding 37th victory? On the flip side, was she preparing for her new role in England which she had yet to accept. There was no harm in her taking her intellectual property back over to the motherland. The two clubs did not compete in the same tournaments, perhaps only the Champions league - but who's to say that whatever club she does pick will make the Champions League? There was no doubt Juve would be there - all of her preparation would ensure they would be. Whoever took over her role simply just had to show up and keep the boys in line.

“ok tesoro, parlami.” (Ok darling, speak to me). The Italian settled onto his couch, espresso in hand, waiting to hear the younger girl's problem.

“So I've spoken with Kyle & Jack now, and have told them of my predicament. They both are very heavily favouring one side - but I need a voice of reason. If you happen to express the same sentiments that they both did, then maybe that's all of the reassurance I need to make this final decision.” Amelia switched back to her native tongue.

After spending the better part of an hour discussing in great depth the offers that she was receiving from the 5 english clubs, Amelia felt just as confused as she did before calling the Chelsea boy. No surprise that Jorgi was team Come to the Prem & Join Chelsea, but the italian midfield maestro had also brought her back down to earth from cloud nine and reminded her of what, or who, she was leaving behind.

“Now I don't like telling you what to do, but you need to discuss this with Fede, Amelia. He doesn’t deserve a lot of things, but this is something he does.”

So that's where Amelia found herself the next morning. Sunday’s in Italy were reserved for espresso and long walks in the sun. This particular Sunday must have been reflective of the internal turmoil she was facing, uncommon for the season, the sky above her was overcast and a light drizzle had started to set in on her walk to the charming Italian’s townhouse.

______________________________________________________________

“pensavo fosse un mito che gli inglesi portino con sé il tempo the” (i thought it was a myth that british people bring the weather with them) Fede said as he opened the door, and his arms, while looking down the two steps at me.

“Very funny” I said as I gave him a hug. He always was so good at hugs. I’m going to miss them. Snap out of it Amelia - you don’t even know if you’re going to go yet. Oh she knows she's going. She also knows what club she's going to. No she doesn't, you be quiet. I’m here rooting for her Italian romance. If I had an angel and devil on each shoulder, their conversation would speak my internal monologue as such.

Walking through to his kitchen, putting on a coffee and saying hello to his dogs, Fede stood in the doorway and watched me move around his kitchen as though it was my own.

“I’m convinced you got British bulldogs because you just can’t help but love the English” I cheekily smiled up at him from my crouched position in the middle of his kitchen, giving the two bullys the best head rubs.

“Sure, you keep thinking that Amelia” Oh, the way he says your name Amelia, so foreign, so romantic. He says it the same way any other Italian would say it, he’s nothing special. Be quiet, let them have their moment.

“Lets go and enjoy these out in the courtyard, is your sun shade still up? It should hold out the rain right?” Amelia spoke rushedly as she poured two espresso cups and walked towards his back door.

“Tesoro, why are you so unsteady today? Is something troubling you?” Fede spoke worriedly, noticing my little nervous habits coming out to play and speaking faster than my mind could comprehend. Better to just get this over with i think, for once we agree on something.

“Ok i need to tell you something, and i need you to let me get it all out before interrupting me. Can you do that? This is something i’ve been working up the courage to speak out loud, let alone speak it to you”

Fede took a sip of his espresso, holding my eye contact, before putting his cup back on its saucer and leaning forward, elbows on his knees. He thought he was ready for what i was about to say, expecting it to be yet another long winded speech as to why i want to put a label on our situationship. Oh boy, how wrong he was.

“After the success of the european tournament, i have received a lot of praise and recognition for my skills”

“And you deserve every bit of it amore, every bit and even more” Oh dear, could my heart hurt anymore?

“Fede, I asked you not to interrupt me…”

“Ok ok, sorry, continue”

“So, I have received a lot of recognition both here in Italy as well as from my home country of England. In saying that, I have received a few offers from clubs in the premier league that want me to bring my approach, the italian approach, to the english game. It's a real step up in my career and it's something I am seriously considering. I’ve spoken with some of the boys back home and also Jorgi, they all think that this is the next step for me. I’m far too comfortable here, I can't grow in my comfort zone. I think I'm ready for a new challenge.”

I held eye contact with the 27 year old, I wasn’t about to let him know just how vulnerable I was feeling here in front of him. Something Fede could always do was read me, and read my emotions. If he knew how exposed I felt, how easily I could be swayed over this decision, then he would make it his life's mission to do so. I had made my mind up that I was going, but there was also a part of me that decided if he was to give me what I was after I would be open to the possibility of staying.

“So it seems that you have asked for the opinion of everyone else in your life, and made your decision, before even considering mine.” He slumped back in his chair, and rubbed two fingers over his lips while looking off into the small courtyard garden.

“Fede, I have made my decision. But I wanted to talk to you about it, I owe that to you. You have made my time here so memorable, so fantastic, so filled with love that I wouldn't even consider not including you in this.”

“Is there anything I can do to make you stay? Do you want me to ask you to be my girlfriend? To tell you I love you? To move in with me? Let me know what you need from me to reconsider this decision” He began to get frustrated with me, pulling the cap off of his head and running his fingers through his hair.

“That’s exactly it Fede! I don’t want to ask you to do that, you should ask me to be your girlfriend on your own! I don't want you to tell me you love me if you think that's what I want to hear - I want you to feel like you love me! I don’t need anyone to tell me what I want to hear, what I want to hear is what you truly feel. And if there is something i have learnt about you in the last few years is that you can’t hold back your feelings with anything! If you were in love with me it would have burst from you a long time ago. I think that you do love me Fede, but as someone to come home to instead of no one at all.”

“You know Fede, i don’t have any regrets over this. You mean just as much to me now as you did the very first time we crossed that boundary and blurred the lines. You’re just my type, you only call me late at night, you can’t decide if you’ll be your own man or mine. I hate to say it, but you really are just my type. This decision has nothing to do with you, it’s something i have come to make all on my own.”

I had stood up now, looking down at the 27 year old. I needed him to understand exactly what I was saying, how serious I was. This was the moment I could get it all off my chest, instead of just letting the relationship play out on his terms.

“I leave on Friday, I let the club know this morning. There's nothing that can be done now Fede, this is my decision. Please respect it, and me”

He stood up, his almost 6’1” frame towering over me. Looking down, face of steel, I could see everything I needed behind his eyes.

“hai ragione ti amo Solo non nel modo in cui meriti di essere amato” (you're right, i do love you. Just not in the way you deserve to be loved). He pulled me into his chest, both arms wrapping around the back of my shoulders, left hand holding my head in the crook of his neck. My arms wrapped around his back from below his arms, holding him tight enough that they crossed over and I could grab the sides of his rib cage. This was the closure I needed.

“I’ll give Jorginho a call and make sure he looks out for you”

“How do you know what club I'm going to?”

“I saw the way your eyes sparkled when you mentioned its name, it was the same sparkle that used to come out when you said mine…”

Part 8. | parte otto

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ohheyitsokay · 3 years

Text

just us

Pairing: Jack Daniels (Agent Whiskey) x (f) reader

Wordcount: 1.9k

Warnings: discussion of not wanting children, brief mention of trauma (the accident), brief mentions of sex, generally sweet and cozy

Summary: Jack and you both grow into what you want (and don’t want?) for the future

Notes: Okay so this WILL NOT be everyone’s cup of tea - that’s fine. There’s enough breeding kink in this fandom for everyone else, I just wanted to explore... not wanting kids, definitively, and one way that journey could look. Obviously, this is an incredibly personal topic, and there’s no way this one snapshot could possibly be perfect, so please just keep that in mind!

Years ago, you met Jack volunteering with low-income students after school. Your friend, who was running the program, roped you in, and you were glad to have other helpers.

He was surprisingly good with the kids. They loved his accent and his hat and the silly expressions he made. Still, in-between his ridiculous stories, he always pushed them to do their best and was persistent in pursuing their success. Unlike some of the other volunteers, he didn’t seem to have any agenda and his selflessness was contagious, and you told him so. The bus had just left, and you finally had the chance to talk to him- you couldn’t help but be honest.

He shrugged his broad shoulders, watching the kids wave through the windows, even down the road.

“I just want them to get their chance to succeed, ya know?”

You did. Gently, you reached up and squeezed his shoulder, and his brown eyes met yours for the first time.

“Thank you,” you said before leaving to go clean up. You hoped he could hear the sincerity in your voice.

The next time you volunteered at the same time, he stayed back to help you clean. He was silent at first, but then he began to talk to you, asking real questions and giving you real answers.

The friendship grew fast, one of the ones where you could feel in your bones how close you’d be. You moved from laughing with the kids as you gave him the tiniest portion of snack, to him driving you home sometimes.

And for the first few years, the two of you really were the best of friends. Lemonade and long drives together became game nights and movies with groups. You’d help him text when he got too flustered, he reminded you that all men were giant boys sometimes. He told you about his past, about the accident and wanting to heal from that, and what he was working on. You shared the skeletons in your closet, you fears and hopes and dreams. You became each other’s constant, as you grew, always cheering the other one on and sharing just the right words at the right time.

Then, after a long, terrible day, he drove over to your house with pure, kind-hearted intentions and ended up kissing you.

“The rest, as they say, is history,” you finished.

Jack’s boss was grinning, along with his wife.

“How adorable!” she cooed, squeezing her husband’s hand.

You and Jack had been together for years now, and recently moved to a small town so he could be closer to his mama. This branch of the statesman was a lot more casual, so you were over at their house with some other couples, barbequing in the backyard. In many ways, you loved the little southern community but it was times like these that you felt like you were pulling teeth.

Jack was so high-profile, and bless his heart, he loved to show you off. It was sweet that his boss let him off early sometimes and the local florist knew your date night, but honestly, people in this town were so invested in your relationship it gave you anxiety. Everyone wanted to hear your story, to be in the know, worst of all: ask about it. So it was unpleasant, but not a surprise when the lady continued, asking, “So how many kids are the two of you going to have?”

Her eyes glimmered with expectation, completely unaware at how you were fighting not to grimace at her intrusion.

Jack looked at you, his hand instinctively finding yours. His thumb rubbed your skin softly, as if he was trying to press his support into you. It worked, in it’s own way, and you collected yourself, smiling because you knew she meant well, and because you had practiced.

When you were younger, if and when it came up, you hadn’t been attracted to the idea of children like some others were. You had thought, or maybe trained yourself to say, maybe someday, but not right now. Because for most people, that was enough. You knew logically, that some did change their minds or grow into it. Sometimes you had hoped that would be you.

Now, you didn’t even offer that, just making a joke and guiding the conversation in a different direction. You played your part well, continuing to chat as you ate, being as delightful and adorable as you always were.

Jack knew, of course he did. After that very first night, when he had kissed you, you had been honest with him. motherhood was not your purpose, passion, or dream. He loved you then, and he loved you now, you reminded yourself. He had loved you through the time you’d talked about it again, when he told you that you were his soulmate. Still, before, you had always left it on the table. Maybe someday, in the future.

He watched you closely, watched your eyes when you laughed at the questions, felt you hand in his when you were in the spotlight.

Jack adored you with every fiber of his being. He loved waking up with you in his arms, and falling asleep to the rhythm of your heart. He liked the way your eyes met his and spoke volumes, and how you knew what he was going to say and let him say it anyway. Sometimes he thought he would stop time itself if it would keep you from being hurt.

So now, he shifted closer and closer to you, invading your space until he could share his warmth with you. Your hands left each others so he could wrap his arm around you, and he tried his best to use himself to make a little safe haven for you. He would do anything to create a bubble so you could breathe.

Your eyes found his, and you leaned into his warmth. No words were offered but he knew he had done a good job when he could feel some tension slide off your shoulders.

Still, over the next few days, the conversation haunted you. It felt like a pin, pricking your mind and heart in quiet moments. You ignored it, what else could you do? It was a familiar feeling, and you knew sooner or later, it would go away. After all this time, hadn’t you made your peace with it?

It was almost completely gone, one night, as you lay with Jack, skin to skin under the sheets. He’d be silent for awhile, in what you could only assume was one of his rare, post-sex dazes. He murmured again and again how much he loved you before it faded off and he had settled for holding you close.

“Sweetheart?” he said suddenly, pulling your attention back to him.

“Yeah, Jack?”

“One of our friends from home is pregnant, I forgot to tell you she called yesterday.”

You felt liked the world was spinning. Why was be bring this up right now?

Somewhere far away, you heard yourself make a happy noise and say that was exciting for them.

Your lover’s warm arm pulled you closer, back onto his chest.

“That’s gonna be one helluva cute baby,” he added. You agreed, but had no idea what to do or say.

Was he trying to tell you he was thinking about kids? About babies?! You were full on panicking now.

Had this, plus the questions from before finally pushed him to reconsider?

“I’ve… darlin’, I’ve been thinking a lot about kids lately,” he whispered into your hair. There was something about his tone you didn’t recognize. You were tense, unable to move away, respond, be normal at all. Of course, he noticed.

Jack half sat up, moving you so he could face you, his arms still holding onto you with purpose.

“Wait- shoot, dang it, I should’ve said that differently,” his eyes were boring into yours. The whole time you’d known him, you hadn’t been able to look away from him when he was baring his heart for you like this. This was Jack. He has never, would never hurt you. You trusted him with your whole life.

Several deep breathes and a quick kiss allowed your heart to calm, and you eyes told him it was okay for him to go on.

“I have been, sweetheart, but not like… that, I – well, I,” he seemed to be struggling, the tiny lines between his eyebrows deepening. You waited, hands finding his skin and mimicking the comforting movements he always did on you. All the while you were reminding yourself that listening to him would always be better than interrupting or assuming.

“I just wanted to tell you, the longer we’re together, how much I like it,” he said, finally, words rushing out of him, “How the more I think about it, how much I sort of want it to just stay like that.”

Your heart was racing now for a whole new reason.

“When I think about other people’s kids, they’re cute but… I don’t need one,” he said, and you noticed the more he talked, the more he relaxed, too. “You could be a fantastic mother, I know you could, if you ever want that,” he added, and you smiled, shaking your head just slightly.

“I guess I’m just selfish, love,” he finally seemed to conclude, having pushed and been fully vulnerable with you. He sank down next to you again, saying, “I want you all to myself. I want to take you on adventures and change the world with you and just have you be all mine, all the time.”

You still couldn’t speak. The world wasn’t spinning anymore but it might as well have been upside down. All your fears - that he was hoping you’d just change your mind, that you were holding him back – were wrong. On his own terms, in his own way, and in his own heart Jack Daniels had flipped to the same page as you.

Never in your life had you expected this, even considered this a possible outcome. It was almost too good to be true.

You had to ask, just one more thing.

“Jack, what about…” you swallowed, clinging to him. “What about… before?” You didn’t need to explain. What about her, and his son? Before the accident? What about the time you’d met, and he was pouring into the futures of children?

Jack was still for one heartbeat, two, and three. Then his hand moved from your waist to touch your cheek, his large palm enveloping it. You hadn’t realized there was a tear until he brushed it away with his thumb. There was tenderness in his eyes as he held you.

“Just us,” he whispered, before kissing you, “that’s all I need.” His eyes were honest, and for the first time in your life, you felt fully seen.

“Just us,” you said back, as vulnerable as he was.

The two of you held each other then, basking in the moment of pure, raw love. You allowed yourself to sink fully into the mattress, pressing together like you were just falling for each other for the first time. In some ways, you were. Everyone has a different story, and you two had just written another chapter in yours. Jack laughed then, a beautiful, free, almost giddy sound.

Relief had sunk into your bones, the two of you finding something in each other that you’d never had before. The feeling you’d had when you first met - the one that sunk into your bones - promising you two would be close, came into your mind. You considered it, realizing it was more than right, knowing you both before you even knew yourselves.

Jack kissed your hairline, still letting out small burst of quiet laughter. His voice was filled with joy as he asked, “Can we get a dog, though?” and you laughed too.

“Yeah,” you said, and he was kissing you, smile almost too big.

taglist:

@fangirl-316 @scribbledghost @0celestialbitch0

#agent whiskey x reader #agent whiskey x you #jack daniels x you #jack daniels x reader #kingsman #maybe i don't know people #Also i wrote this pretty quickly in comparison to some other works so sorry about the writing. hopefully ill rewrite it at some point #alternative title:#pouring one out for the girls with a different happily ever after

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reid-me-a-story · 3 years

Text

I Need a Doctor

Based on the song “Doctor” by Jack Stauber

Synopsis: Reader is pining after her best friend, but after a drunken night and a failed attempt at seduction things start to look up for her

A/N: This is my first ever fan-fiction and WOOF was it a beast! This is based off a song that reminded me of Spencer some how, see the lyrics below!

Although this is a self insert one-shot, reader is never introduced as (y/n), I personally find it distracting in fan fiction to have to skip over that so instead of (y/n) there is use of pet names when needed. Any defining features such as height , hair colour, etc. is not specified including weight - however Spencer does pick reader up. Smut is included but if you aren’t comfortable reading it then feel free to stop about halfway through when there’s a little breaker in the story!

Couple: Spencer Reid/Fem!reader* (please read content warnings!)

Category: Angst/smut[18+] (and a little bit of fluff, all around a pretty wholesome story)

Content warning: Idiots in love, unrequited love (happy ending I promise!), drinking, unprotected sex, breeding kink, oral (male and female receiving), Fingering, Swearing, use of pet names (baby, princess, Little girl), teensy bit of degradation. *Let me know if I missed any!!*

Word count: 4.2k

Lyrics: Verse: Sarah Vanessa, Jack Stauber]

I need a doctor, oh

I'm not a doctor but I think I might be able to help

It's not a simple symptom, no

My diagnosis is that no one has been treating you well

[Chorus: Sarah Vanessa, Jack Stauber]

So, what do you prescribe?

Love's the only medicine

Is this a lie?

No, take three of these a da-ay

Oh, I think I'm cured

Cool, are you alright on your own?

No, I'm not sure...

Okay

[Outro: Sarah Vanessa]

Oh, I think I'm sick again...

*gasp

After three years of pining after your co-worker and best friend you decided to try to fill the void caused but the unrequited love.

You knew you wanted to be with Spencer since your first day, however it seemed that all he wanted was a friend. You guys were close and spent a lot of time together but it never seemed to progress. You once thought about taking the reins and asking him out, thinking that maybe he was just nervous. You grossly misread that situation and thank god you didn’t ask because the next day you over heard him telling Derek about a girl he wanted to ask out.

After that you started to isolate yourself from Spencer. You loved him but he didn’t feel the same. Garcia and JJ tried to make you feel better by telling you that it would never last with this new girl. You wanted to believe it but actions speak louder than words. Not only were you keeping a bit more distance from Spencer but he seemed to be cancelling plans left and right.

While you never made any new plans you would always spend every Saturday together when you weren’t on a case. Sometimes you guys would do something as extravagant as a play or spending the day touring a museum exhibit - something you wouldn’t nearly be as interested in if Spencer wasn’t your tour guide. Other times your days would be spent watching old reruns of your favourite shows or having Spencer read to you. Those days were your favourite because listening to Spencer’s smooth melodic voice always seemed to calm you down even at your most stressed out.

Since you over heard Spencer tell Derek about this girl he wanted to ask out he’s been cancelling your Saturday plans. It didn’t bother you at first but it’s been almost 5 weeks and you’re getting quite hurt by it. He still talks to you at work or spends time with you when you are on cases and dismissed for the day but it’s not the same.

Today is Friday and Garcia came skipping through the glass doors straight for you. “Hello, my beautiful human! Since we have no case do you want to have a Girls night tonight? JJ and Emily are coming! Please come!” She begs.

You debated declining so you can spend your weekend in solitude, sulking over your best friend but the look in Garcia’s eyes made you reconsider. “Okay sure, where are we going?”

Penelope squealed “Ahh! Okay awesome! We’re going to be going to this cute little Italian restaurant and then heading next door to this bar! It has really good Yelp reviews and - OOH maybe we can get you a hunk to take home tonight and-“

That got Spencer’s attention and his head whipped up to look at Penelope. While his eyes darted over to you to gauge your reaction to Penelope’s comment, you both locked eyes. You thought you saw him silently beg you not to go out tonight but you ignored it and stood up.

Penelope was still chattering away while you were packing up so you can go home to freshen up. You really didn’t want to get set up with some random guy but it might fill the void that is still there. Once Penelope gives you an opening you ask her what time to be ready for. She tells you that she will pick you up at 7. You thank her and head home.

Once you pass the barrier to your apartment you relax your shoulders, not realizing how tense you had been all day. The dread of going out tonight started to really sink in. If you were being honest with yourself you would have loved to have spent the night sitting in silence reading a book that reminded you of anything except Spencer but instead you agreed to go out and get drunk with your co-workers. Great.

You hop into the shower and take your time drying your hair. Just as you finish putting your makeup on and getting dressed Garcia texts you that she’s outside. You throw on your jacket and slip your heels on and walk outside.

After a really nice dinner you found yourself 6 shots in at the bar next door. You were fending off a really persistent guy when your phone goes off. You notice that it’s Spencer and you’re able to use it as an excuse to get away from the guy thats hitting on you. Despite how much you want to fill the emptiness that you feel without him you don’t want to just sleep around to do it.

You step outside into the cool air and answer your phone. “Hello, Doctor” you slur

“Hey... I - I uh...” Spencer stutters. You can tell he wants to say something but instead of waiting your tipsy mind forced the words out of your mouth

“I need a Doctor” you were attempting to be seductive but based on Spencer’s reaction you figured it didn’t come across right away

“Oh my god, stay where you are I’m going now” then the call drops.

“Shit” you say to yourself. You head back in to the girls. This is the last thing you wanted. Or is it? You’ve been dying to spend time with him outside of work for weeks. It sucks that you’re drunk for it but by the time he shows up and comes inside you are absolutely buzzing with excitement.

Spencer looks around the bar quickly for you. Before he locks eyes with you, you try to take in his appearance. He looks worried, his hair is messy and his curls look like they’ve been stretched by his hands running through them. Once he looks at you his shoulders relax and he lets out a deep breath.

“Hi” he breathes once he reaches you, he looks relieved to see you look physically okay.

“Hi Dr. Reid, fancy seeing you here” you slur and reach out to touch his arm. Before you make contact though you pull back; knowing how he is about touch. He ignores that and pulls you in for a bone crushing hug.

“I was worried about you” he whispers into your hair. Your heart starts beating faster the longer he holds onto you and you bury your face in his chest, inhaling his scent. He always smells good to you, like old paper and coffee. He smells like home and you start to tear up.

He feels you shudder and pulls back and notices your tears. “Hey, hey, what’s going on are you okay? Didn’t you say you needed a Doctor?”

“Oh yea,” you whisper “ typical drunk girl crying, it’s no big deal. Aren’t you a Doctor? I just need you”

“Do you want me to drive you home?”

You shake your head “Can I stay over at your place instead?”

He looks hesitant but agrees nonetheless. You both wave goodbye to the girls and he leads you out to his car by the small of your back. When you get to the car Spencer opens the door for you and makes sure you’re buckled in before going and sliding into the drivers seat. You turn on the radio at a low volume so you don’t have to sit in the awkward silence.

Once you get to his apartment he gets out and walks around to open your door. You get out and he leads the way upstairs. You make your way inside and as soon as you pass the threshold of his front door you don’t know what to say. He’s the first to break the silence. “Do you want some water? Maybe some Tylenol? If might help you feel better”

“O-okay” you stutter. You follow him into his kitchen and take the glass filled with water from him. You take a huge sip and put the glass down.

Just when he opens his mouth to say something you blurt out the question that’s been burning in your mind since it happened, “Spencer, why did you call me?”

He opens and closes his mouth a few times before saying “It’s stupid really, don’t worry about it,” and before you’re able to respond he asks “ Do you want some clothes to change into? Might be more comfortable than what you have on”

You nod and he leaves, he comes back in a few minutes with a button up Pyjama shirt with little dinosaurs on them with matching pants. You go to walk away but he grabs your hand. You turn to look at him when he pulls you into a hug again. “I miss you” he whispers.

The admission makes your eyes prick with tears. Instead of saying anything through your scratchy throat you just nod and hug him tighter. You both stand like that for a few moments before you pull away. Your skin is on fire from his touch and you can’t stand it anymore. You advert yourself eyes from him so you don’t have to look at him trying to read your thoughts through your eyes. You’re afraid he would hear the truth in your thoughts about how much you love him.

You slip into the bathroom to change quickly and when you emerge you find Spencer standing by the bed waiting for you. When he hears the door open he looks at you and you can hear him take a deep breath. “I don’t think I’ll ever get used to it” he whispers under his breath.

Trying not to break the silence too much you whisper back, “Get used to what?”

All the time in the world could not have given you the preparation to hear the next words that he chose to say.

“How effortless beautiful you look.”

“WHAT?” Your inner voice screams. Tears prick the corners of your eyes for the third time that night. “Please don’t Spencer.”

“Don’t what?”

“Don’t say things like that and expect me not to love you”, You say just barely above a whisper.

Spencer closes the distance between you and gently pushes a few loose strands of your hair behind your ear. You try to keep your eyes on your hands that you hold between you and Spencer but he pulls your attention to his eyes. “What if that’s what I want?”

Before you can respond he closes the final distance between you two. His lips are soft and full against yours. His hands move to your hair and yours gravitate to his shoulders. He tastes like coffee and mints and the taste is almost as intoxicating as the liquor you drank earlier in the night.

You push him back towards the bed and he sits on the end. You go to straddle him but he stops you with a hand in your waist. “We shouldn’t..”

“Oh.. y-yea, I understand” you say defeated.

“Oh god, no. Trust me. I want to- I want to so bad but you’re drunk and you’re not thinking clearly. I’ve wanted this for so long you don’t understand but I’d don’t want you to wake up and regret anything-“

You cut his rambling off with a kiss and he immediately relaxes. You pull back with a sigh and a tiny smile while nodding in understanding.

Spencer stands up, kissing your forehead before disappearing into the bathroom. You start to head out into the living room when you hear him call out “Where are you going?”

“To sleep on the couch, I don’t want to intrude.”

“The beds big enough for the both of us,” he states before quickly adding with a small blush, “I- uh- unless you aren’t comfortable with that”

You blush in return and slowly pad your way over to Spencer’s bed. You pull back the covers off your side and slide in, Spencer stretches out his long legs, reaching over and pulling you into him by your waist. You rest your head in his chest and start dozing off to the sound of his heart beating.

Just before you succumb to your sleep you hear him whisper into your head “I love you”

———

You wake up to the smell of coffee and the Saturday morning sun beaming through the windows. You go to stretch out and realize that you’re not at home but instead at Spencer’s, in his bedroom, in his clothes. Last nights confessions flood your memory and you smile to yourself. He loves you. Spencer Reid loves you.

Despite your pounding headache you can’t help but jump out of bed and pad into the kitchen. You see Spencer standing by his coffee maker. As soon as he spots you his eyes fill with something you just can’t quite place, and a small smile lights his face. You slowly step towards him and jump onto the counter, sitting right next to the coffee maker.

“Good morning” you say as softly as possible, as to not disturb the peacefulness of the morning.

Instead of answering in words, Spencer laces his fingers into your hair and pulls you forward to kiss you softly. When you both break away to replace the air in your lungs he finally speaks, “Good morning, beautiful. How do you feel? How’s your head?”

“No complaints” You joke, while winking at him.

The innuendo is lost on him for a few seconds before he laughs and says “No you dork! Your headache!”

“Ah, I’ll manage. Is there enough coffee there for me?”

“Always, anything for you”

You two drink your coffee in silence; with you playing with Spencer’s free hand, and him trying to memorize every second of this morning. Spencer finishes his coffee first and places his cup down on the counter. With his now empty hand, he starts playing with your hair, running his hands through the soft locks.

You soon finish your cup and pull him to stand in between your legs. “I think,” you say sneakily “I think I need a doctor”

“What do you mean?” Spencer asks

“Hmmm well I think you might be able to help me, Doctor” you whisper in his ear while running your hands up and down his chest. You hear his breathing start to get heavy. When your nails get close to the waistband of his sweats his breath catches in his throat and a soft moan escapes instead.

“What seems to be the problem?” He says, voice low and husky.

“Mmmm” you sigh “Well Doctor, my symptoms aren’t simple, think you can handle it?”

“I don’t think anyone has been treating you right.” He moans softly again as one of your hands start to play with the hairs at the nape of his neck.

“So what do you prescribe, Dr. Reid?”

“Me.” He claims before slamming his mouth against yours. The kiss is hungry and Spencer quickly dominates it. His hand move from your hair down to you waist and the other hand moves to the front of your borrowed sleepwear, pulling at the drawstrings. You feel heat bloom between your thighs. You never expected him to be so aggressive but you loved it. You loved him, and you wanted him- now.

“Mm Spencer, please..” you moan between heated kisses.

Spencer chuckles and starts kissing down your jaw and neck “What baby? What do you need” he mumbles against your skin.

“You.” You moan breathlessly. He growls against the skin of your neck while slowly sliding his hand into your pyjamas. Once he reaches the waistband of your underwear he pulls back to look into your eyes - silently asking for consent.

“Please, Spencer. I need you! Please!” He smiles and reaches into your underwear and is fingers slide past your folds feeling the wetness from how turned on you were.

He moans when he feels you. “Oh wow baby, you’re so wet. Is this all for me?”

“Yes Spence, all for you.” You breathe out between a soft moan.

“Good. You’re mine, baby” he finally sides one of his long fingers between your folds and starts pumping his hand slowly- curling a finger up to press against that sweet spot inside of you, causing a guttural moan to leave your throat. He withdraws his hand and you whine at the loss. He gives you a look and its intensity stops any sounds from escaping except for soft pants.

He signalled for you to lift your hips and he pulled you towards the edge of the counter. He pushed your knees apart and kneeled down. The sight of Spencer looking up at you between your legs almost made you finish right there and then - you let out a low groan. He chuckles and moves forwarded starts nipping at your inner thigh, never taking his eyes off you.

He kisses everywhere except where you want him. Whines escape your mouth before you can stop them and you can feel him smile against your leg. Finally showing you a little bit of mercy and finally licked a thick stripe up in between your folds. Spencer lean out a low moan against your sex, “You taste so good, baby”

Your back arches and you throw your head back. Your breathing picks up and one of your hands grip his hair. You tug on his Chestnut curls - hard “Spencer, please! more… fuck - please!”

“What do you need princess?”

“You, Spence! Pl - uhh - Please!” You scream at him.

“Anything for you,” he adds, before adding two fingers in the mix. He thrusts his fingers in and up towards that spot inside you while flicking his tongue over your clit. Your eyes roll back and you let out a deep moan. You never thought that your best friend, the man who is perpetually awkward around women would be this good. Looking down towards him you see that his eyes haven’t left you - its like he’s trying to memorize every movement your body makes. The knowledge of Spencer watching you come undone combined with the pleasure coursing through your veins sends a wave of euphoria crashing over you.

“Fuck!” You scream out as you ride out your orgasm, one of the most intense of your life if you’re being honest. When you finally come down and try to catch your breath you look down towards where Spencer is and his eyes are wide while staring at you.

“Fuck, you’re so beautiful, baby” He jumps up and crashes his lips on yours and you can taste yourself on his lips and tongue. You moan into his mouth and reach down towards the waistband of his sweats pulling them down with his boxers. You watch his cock spring up and slightly gawk at the size of him. He’s bigger than anyone you’ve been with and you tell him as much. Before he can respond you jump down off the counter while pushing him towards the wall beside you so he has some sort of support.

You lick a thick stripe from the base of his shaft before leaving a small kiss to the tip, tasting the salty pre-cum. You take the head into your mouth and hollow out your cheeks while taking more in. What you can’t fit in your mouth you pump with your hand.

You look up at Spencer through your lashes; he’s looking back down at you, with his hand balled into a fist pressed up against his mouth. You hate that he’s silencing himself from you so you reach up and grab his hand to place it at the back of your head - giving him permission to fuck your face at his pace. He’s trying to be gentle but after a few strokes with you hollowing your cheeks he can’t help but buck his hips further into your mouth - causing you to gag. You swallow around him and he slides deeper. Your nails are digging into his thighs leaving ten, small angry red crescent moon indents behind. He thrusts slightly deeper causing you to gag and tears to slide down your face, “come on baby, I know you can take me deeper”

At the sound of his voice you hum, causing his hips to buck into your mouth again. “Fuck!” He pulls out and continues “Don't wanna cum there. I wanna fill you up baby. Do you want that? Do you want me to fill that tight little cunt up?”

You moan and nod excitedly and Spencer grips the back of your thighs, signalling you to jump. He carries you into the bedroom with you laying kisses and leaving marks over his jaw and neck. You find a sensitive spot just below his ear that causes his breath to get caught in his throat. Once you both enter the room he places you gently on the bed, climbing in-between your legs and kissing your lips and down towards your neck. He starts to unbutton your pyjama shirt while leaving small red and purple love bites over your neck and chest. Once he finally removed the last article of clothing on you he takes a step back to admire your body. Usually this would cause you to be self-conscious; meaning you would usually cover yourself with your hands or a blanket. Something in Spencers eyes calmed you and made you relax. He made you feel beautiful just by the look in his eyes - and he said so in just as many words, “ You’re so beautiful baby, do you know that?”

“Please Spence, I need you inside me! I need you to fuck me right now or else I might die…” You whine

“Well, we can’t have that” He chuckles. Spencer pulls off his t-shirt and kneels in-between your legs, pulling one over his shoulder, one hand on your thigh and the other on your waist, He thrusts in and bottoms out completely - causing you to yell out in surprise. “You make such pretty noises baby… how many more can I get out of you, huh?”

Spencer sets a brutal pace, thrusting into you deeper than you thought was possible. Your hands desperately try to grab anything to hold on to. One settles on the hand gripping your waist tightly, surely leaving bruises that you could only hope would last. Your other hand reaches forward - scratching your nails down his chest and leaving red welts behind in its wake - causing Spencer to let out a guttural moan. He leans forward, dropping your leg to his elbow to relieve the pressure, and kisses you deeply. His hand leaves your waist and he presses his thumb to your bundle of nerves, pressing slightly and rubbing small circles over it. “ I want you to come for me baby. come on little girl, you can do it”

You couldn’t defy him even if you wanted to. Your body gave into his wishes and crashed into the wall at full speed. Spencer kept the same pace as he fucked you though your orgasm. “Oh what a good girl. come on baby, one more for me…”

“One mo-ore? Spenc-! Fuck!”

“Yes, one more beautiful. Fuck- I know you can do it baby. One more and I’ll fill you up with my cum. You’d - fuck!- like that, huh? You’d like - ugh - to be my dirty… little …cum-slut… wouldn’t you?”

Your eyes rolled back at his words. You could barely believe what you were hearing. His words sent you over the edge for your third and final time. Your entire body shuddered from overstimulation and pleasure. Spencer moaned loudly and you felt him twitch inside you, his cock painting your walls with his cum. Just as he starts to pull out you reach forward and beg with wide eyes “No! Stay! I want you to keep it in me, please Spence, please! I need-“

He cuts you off with a kiss and presses back into you, holding you as close as he can - trying to follow your wishes. After a few minutes he started to soften, he slowly pulled out of you despite your protests. He shushed you with a few quick kisses to your lips and quickly ran to the washroom to get a damp washcloth. He wiped between your legs as gently as he could without overstimulating you too much.

Spencer flopped down beside you, grabbing you and pulling you into his side. He starts slowly kissing your lips, cheeks, forehead - really anywhere his lips could reach without having to let go of you. You giggle a little bit as he gets to a ticklish spot on your neck. “Well Doctor, I think I’m cured. I guess you were right, I just needed you”

“And three orgasms,” he deadpanned.

You both laugh a little at that. You look at him and that same look is in his eyes from before. You’re finally able to place it. “I love you, Spence.”

His eyes shine a little brighter and he leans forward to rest his forehead against yours. “I love you more, beautiful girl”

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deans-baby-momma · 2 years

Text

Forbidden

Chapter 26

Set in season 14 and follows Y/N, a young girl from the Apocalypse world as she tries to navigate this new place that she was thrust in after being rescued and the feelings she begins to have for someone she really shoudln’t be having them for.

Warnings: There’s a bit of angst, smut and fluff in each chapter. I will tag the smut chapters appropriately but if you’re following me and reading any of my stories, you know it’s gonna be there. LOL

WC: 1011

I open the door wide, silently inviting him in although I am apprehensive about why he says we need to talk.

Is he going to finally explain why he pulled away and has been ignoring me for the past couple of days?

If he is here to tell me that we can't be together because of the promise Mary made to my dad, I might just scream. Dad wanted me happy too….and Dean is my happiness.

"What is it Dean?" I ask as I close the door and turn toward him, crossing my arms over my chest. "You've not said a word to me in almost 72 hours. You've acted like I didn't even exist. So what do we need to talk about?"

I couldn't help but get upset at how he's treated me. And now to think, he is taking this opportunity-while we are out on the road, stuck together in a vehicle for hours at a time-to tell me that he no longer wants me. Dean Winchester is the biggest prick on the planet!

"Y/N," he sighs as he says my name. "I'm sorry for that. I should have never treated you that way. I take full responsibility. Hell, if I were you I'd've never let me in the door."

"I'm listening," I tell him, not moving from my agitated stance.

Dean draws in a breath and releases it slowly. "When Mom told us about her promise to your dad, it twisted me up. Got me thinking that your dad wanted you safe and taken care of and I wasn't doing that. I was more or less putting a target on your back by being with you.

"So, I stepped back and tried to reconsider everything. My feelings, your feelings, who you are, what we were doing. Being with me puts you in danger. Demons, angels, hell even Lucifer- they find out who you are, to me, they will try to use that against me and possibly hurt you in the process. I couldn't handle it if you got injured just because we share a bed."

"And I have no say in it?" I ask, seething. "What I want, who I want doesn't matter? Is that it?"

His words aren't helping, in fact they are just pissing me off more. "It's my life. It should be my choice on how it goes; who I want in it."

"I know," he answers, low. "I should've come to you and talked to you. I've just….I've never been good at this kind of stuff. I'm sorry baby."

I let my arms drop to my sides. He called me baby. I try to keep my emotions under control but my heart is racing in my chest and butterflies have erupted in my stomach. Over one little moniker.

"So, it's over?" I ask, hesitantly. I am so afraid of his answer but I also have to know.

"I don't want it to be," he says as he steps forward. "I was an idiot and I want to be yours….if you'll still have me." The trepidation and anxiousness is evident in his tone.

"What made you change your mind?" I ask as I take a step closer.

Dean gets a smirk on his face. "Believe it or not, Jack. He told me not to worry what other people-"

Dean never gets to finish his sentence as I practically jump up and wrap my arms around his neck and my legs around his waist and capture his lips with mine.

He wraps his arms around my body and hugs me closer as we explore one another's mouths.

It isn't long before we are down to our skivvies. Dean's hands roam along my body as I unbuckle his belt and pull the leather from the loops.

Dean reaches around my back and deftly unclasps the hooks of my bra and then pulls the straps off my shoulders. They get caught on my elbows though as I am busy unsnapping his jeans.

The cups of the garment fall though and Dean swiftly palms them in his hand, squeezing and kneading the flesh.

I tiptoe and kiss his lips as I slip my hand into his pants and under his boxers. He is already rock hard and throbbing as I wrap my fingers around his length.

"I want to suck your dick," I tell him against his lips. Dean emits a groan from deep in his throat and I smile. "Can I?"

"Fuck yea!"

I pull my hand out and grip his jeans at each hip, pulling them, and his boxers, down until they loosen and I let go, the material falling and bunching around his ankles.

I drop to my knees so hard and so fast that my kneecaps sound like they crack.

Dean chuckles as he places his palm on my head. "Sounded like that hurt."

I giggle and nod. "It kinda did," I tell him as I eye his thick, stiff cock. I rewrap my hand around him and he draws in a sharp breath.

"Baby, you ok-"

Dean's words are cut off as I stand up on my knees and take the tip into my mouth, swirling my tongue around the head and tasting the salty precum leaking from his slit.

"Motherfuuck!' Deam exclaims as I slowly start pumping as I hollow my cheeks and drink down the tangy juice. "Oh god baby. You're so good at that. Damn!"

With my free hand I reach between us and cup his ball sack in my palm. I continue jacking him off as I suck his length into my mouth until the head hits my throat.

Dean is a moaning mess above me, his fingers digging into my scalp and pulling my hair. I love the pleasurable pain so I moan around his dick.

"Fuck Y/N," Dean pants. "If you don't stop, I'm gonna blow my load and I really want to fuck you."

I pull off him with a pop, looking up at him with a smirk. "So, what's stopping ya?"

@lostinaseaoffictionalbliss @spnbaby-67 @tftumblin @sea040561 @delightfullykrispypeach @larajadeschmidt13 @atc74 @vicariouslythruspn @squirrelnotsam @sandlee44 @blacktithe7 @hoboal87 @mogaruke @deanwanddamons @supraveng @deandreamernp @akshi8278 @lyarr24 @wintersoldierwinchester @we-are-all-a-bunch-of-idjits @nancymcl @kazsrm67 @lostdarksoul6

#supernatural #spn #season 14 #canon adjacent #dean winchester #sam winchester #mary winchester #y/n winchester #jack kline #bobby singer #angst #fluff #smut #dean x y/n

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prettynxsty · 3 years

Text

Again

Sub!Kevin x Domme!Reader

Contains: futa/girlcock, mentions/use of alcohol, pwp, squirting, Kevin has a pussy, fingering.

Summary: You and Kevin have a slightly established relation to the effect of being friends. Both of you are drunk and have filthy sex. There’s hardly any plot this time, sorry lmfao.

AN: :))))) here is some sub!Kevin, bc there’s not enough. And one good niche fanfic for the children, be fed.

You have a plastic cup in your hand, swirling with something mixed with soda. Kevin, he's swaying in a small crowd of his friends, wearing the smallest fucking shorts and a cropped hoodie with a shirt underneath. So naturally, you slide your way through and down the last few sips of your drink before tossing the cup onto a nearby table. You slip your hands around his waist and press against him in a slight hug, following his rhythm. He glances back and quirks a small smile.

You didn't realize that he could completely feel your dick against him until he rolls his hips and presses back against you. Your hands slip over his lower belly and glide firmly down his thighs before dancing back up to grip his hips. You danced with him until the song tapered down. As you began to pull away, he turned to face you and wrapped his arms around your neck.

You didn't completely want to leave either, so you settled your hands back on his hips and nudged your knee between his thighs. He does the same and grinds forward over your thigh. A chill climbs your spine as his thigh scrubs over your bulge. You kept on back and forth like that through the next song.

You look up at him, seeing no reason to hold yourself back and lean into his mouth. You can taste the artificial sweeteners of a hard lemonade when you kiss him. He opened his mouth for more, but you suckled his bottom lip between your own and bit it before pulling away. Leaning toward his ear, you whispered for him to find you later and you’d bring him back to your place.

You sauntered away to your friends, hanging and dancing with them for a while before plopping yourself onto a vacant couch. You were getting a little sweaty anyway. After a while, you were getting ready to push yourself off of the linen cushion and try to find him, but he seemed to know where you’d be already. He had a stupid little bounce in his step, a little wobbly from toeing the line of blackout drunk. His phone was clutched in his fist as he straddled your lap and sat straight down.

"Missed you.."

He slurred off the rest of his sentence, cupping your cheeks and giving you a wet kiss. The vodka punch tasted a lot better on his tongue than the lemonade from earlier. He makes a breathy noise when your teeth scrape his fat little tongue.

You were still at a party, and you were both clearly ready to get out of there. But there was nothing wrong with sampling the food. Your lips part with a wet smack and you kissed along the corner of his mouth, stopping to suck a hickey on the underside of his jaw. Things were getting a bit more dangerous. You slid my hand up his stomach and locked it firmly around the base of his throat.

He was so stupid when he was drunk. He was probably trying to text Jacob and let them know that you were leaving together. But it shouldn't have been a surprise that he'd slipped to his camera and pressed record. His mouth fell open as you squeezed the sides of his throat, pressing wet kisses along the column.

"Mnh, kiss me again," he whispered.

His eyes fluttered shut as you moved your head from his throat and back up to his mouth. He loses himself in the way you thrust your tongue in between his lips, his thumb brushing over the button to stop the recording as he falls into you.

The noise of the party re-enters your ears and reminds you that you wanted to take him back to your apartment. He makes a whiny noise when you stop kissing him, bottom lip swollen, puffing out in a pout.

"Come on, let's go back to mine."

Back in your apartment, his steps are a little shier, as if he hadn't visited plenty of times before. His fingers curl a little tighter against yours as you nudge the door shut with your foot before toeing off your shoes. In the sanctuary of your room, you blinked blearily.

"Get naked for me, baby."

You unlocked your phone with your thumbprint, connecting to the speaker beside your bed. In no way were you all the way gone, but reading wasn't as easy as it was when you were sober. You flicked upward until you settled on a playlist and set your phone on the side table.

You stopped in the middle of yanking down your underwear, seeing just how wet he'd gotten. It was just enough to make the smallest damp spot through the tiny slivers of blue silk hugging his cunt.

You let your garments pool at your ankles, kicking them against the pile of clothes you created. You shuffle over and plop down on the side of your bed, thighs spread. Kevin seemed to have some intentions in mind, slipping off of the mattress and onto his knees between your thighs. He didn't have to ask you to touch it, because he knew you’d love how he worked it.

"So fucking big.." He marveled.

Wrapping his cool fingers around the base. His tongue lolls over his bottom lip as he gently slaps the head against the center of his tongue. He stopped to swallow, parting his lips and cramming part of your dick into his mouth.

His mouth goes from wet to sticky and slippery as he bobs his head up and down. He jacks off what he can't reach, lips kissing the top of his knuckles as he swallows down. You hissed, resting a hand on the back of his head, twirling your fingers through his little black locks.

Kevin makes a small noise in the back of his throat, he swallowed just a little too much and lurched forward. He didn't seem very phased by it, because he just kept going. As much as you enjoyed watching the game, you really liked to play. You pressed down on the back of his head just a bit and he seemed to understand, shifting his hands to rest on your bare thighs. Steadily you pushed him down, you could feel his drool leaking down your shaft.

Your toes curled and your chest rumbled with a groan. Your knuckles tighten in his hair, yanking him back with a smirk. He panted noisily through his nose, tongue darting out and sweeping across his lips.

"You're such a fucking pretty boy." Your hand drifts from his head, cupping his chin and thumbing apart his lips.

"Open." You command.

You spit in his mouth, chest bouncing with a laugh.

"Get up on the bed, lemme see your pussy."

His eyes widened, swallowing as he shakily rose from his haunches to climb up on the bed. You reach out a hand and grab his, steadying him as he climbs up.

He rolls onto his back, propped up against your pillows with his thighs spread. Had he gotten this wet from you using him?

“I want you to cum over and over again.”

Kevin was already in such a daze, sleeping with the person he’s been in love with for so long. God, he was already so drunk. No one had ever made him feel this hot. All of the boyfriends, girlfriends, and hookups just used him and kicked him out.

It’d make sense that you’d be better than all of them combined..

You crawled between his thighs, resting your hands on the softer flesh as you leaned up to kiss him before descending.

Meal time.

You spat at his mound, watching a shiver travel its way up his body as your saliva drips down his puffy labia. You hummed, leaning in and scrub your tongue against the swollen pink lip. You sucked it between your lips, gently tonguing it.

You slip your fingers into your mouth, lathering them. He whines pitifully as you drag your fingers over his slit, nudging apart his inner pink to slip your fingers in. His voice shakes as you work your index and middle into him. You flick your tongue around the hood of his clit, resting the heel of your palm against his skin.

You dug in deeply, curling your fingers upward. His voice rises in pitch, hips squirming.

You pull your fingers out to the second knuckle before pushing them back in with a wet sound, digging in and out before suddenly increasing in speed.

His drawn out moans break into short cries through his noisy panting. His pale muff rosied as your palm slapped against it.

He could never get quite used to the rhythm because you changed it so often. He clenches his teeth, tensing his core as he thrashed his head against your pillows.

“Fuck- oh fuck! F- uckfuckfuck!” He squealed, his inner thighs trembled against your wrist. You shift your free hand, gripping the upper portion of his left thigh and pin it down.

“Oh my god, unh!” The Weeknd’s crooning voice leaks under the door, the melody rattled the walls enough to keep your neighbors blissfully unaware.

I put you on top.

“I’m gonna fuckin’-!” He threw his head back, back arching in the prettiest curve. You couldn’t have mistaken the wet noise and warmth coating your fingers. You carry him through it, jerking your fingers in and out even though your wrist began to ache.

So call out my name.

Droplets splatter as you plunged in and out of him, slowing your pace as he tried to squirm away. You slid your fingers up the length of his folds, smearing his cum over the crook of his inner thigh. Just about a teaspoon of his milk, spurting over his hole and running down the backs of his thighs down to his ass.

“I’m not done, I wanna make you cum again.”

He looks up at you rising onto your knees with amazement in his eyes, glittering with the kiss of almost-tears.

You prop the crooks of his knees over your hips, scooting forward as you pumped your cock in

your hand.

I want you to stay.

You tilt your head down, carefully spitting onto your shaft and massage in a few globules. For his sake, you reconsidered for a second, releasing your cock and letting it plop onto his cunt. Reaching forward, you stabilized yourself with a single hand on the headboard as you leaned forward to dig in your side table.

You pop the cap with your thumb, leaning back and squirt a generous amount over your dick and a small puddle on top of Kevin’s cunt. Clicking it closed, you tossed the tube back into the drawer and nudged it shut.

Resting back on your calves, you spread the lube over your shaft down to your very base. With care, you swept your fingers through the small pool dribbling over his blood swollen lips and spread it around.

When I- Kiss you- So gently-.

He watches you with a reverence, nudging apart his lips with your cock before slipping it past the mess he’d already made.

He breathes in deeply, your dick was quite a bit thicker than your fingers. You leaned down, propping yourself up on your elbows and pressed a kiss to his mouth. You swallowed his heavy breaths, just pressing your lips to his over and over again.

He could feel the tingling in his hamstrings from being folded forward like this. You rebound slowly after bottoming out, pressing in even deeper than you’d reached before.

You jumped quickly from moving slowly to reaching a moderate pace once he seemed a bit more accommodated. It didn’t hurt him, but the stretch felt so overwhelming.

“More,” he moans foolishly, kissing your upper lip.

You’d give him exactly what he needed, because you needed the same. You reared your hips back, pounding into him. Your thighs clapped against the back of his, and he was too far gone to return your kisses.

You felt his thighs shaking, his socked feet flopped uselessly in the air as you used him. He could only gasp noisily, his exhales are slutty keens.

“Oh fuck, you like it when I use you like this?” You panted, pressing wet kisses below his ear.

“U-h uh!” He babbled, throwing his arms around your neck and pulling you closer to him.

“Unh! F- uck! Again! Again, again, again!” He squeals, biting down on his bottom lip before falling into a noiseless moan.

You growled, clenching your teeth as he spasms and clenches around you. He was even more fucking wet and slippery, you were so fucking close.

You couldn’t control the animal inside of you, wrapping your arms around him before hammering in. Kevin’s cries were almost loud enough to rival the music as you abused his cunt, fucking his cum back into him.

You couldn’t take it anymore, it was a voice, just barely a whisper in the back of your mind to remind you that you couldn’t breed him yet. You growled something inhuman, ugly, freeing your dick from his cunt and hump against it like a dog.

Your voice loses its bass, shaking as viscous droplets and ropes splatter over his stomach, jumping with each deep breath.

You peel apart your eyes, he just simply watched you. Worshipful. He moves his hand to the back of your head, pulling you in to peck your mouth as you slumped against him.

#sub tbz #sub!tbz #sub theboyz #sub kpop #sub idol #domme reader #dom reader #dom!reader #domme!reader #sub kevin #sub!kevin #sub kevin moon #top reader #top!reader

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