#power washing companies near me

[ashevillencpressure]

Website : https://ashevillencpressurewashing.com/

Address : 119 Meadow Pathway Drive, Fletcher, NC 28732

Phone : [phone]

Asheville NC Pressure Washing specializes in providing top-notch pressure washing services to meet all your cleaning needs. With a commitment to excellence, we take pride in rejuvenating your surfaces and enhancing the curb appeal of your property in Asheville, NC. Our skilled and experienced team utilizes state-of-the-art equipment and environmentally friendly cleaning solutions to remove dirt, grime, mold, and stains from a wide range of surfaces, including driveways, sidewalks, decks, and exteriors. Whether you’re a homeowner looking to refresh your property’s appearance, a business owner seeking to maintain a professional image, or a property manager aiming to attract tenants, our pressure washing services are tailored to your specific requirements. We prioritize customer satisfaction, ensuring that your surfaces are not only cleaner but also protected against future wear and tear.

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[poseidonspressurewashing]

Poseidons Pressure Washing | Pressure Washing Service | Window Cleaning Services in Greenville SC

We are your dependable and trustworthy go-to for exceptional Pressure Washing Service in Greenville SC, designed to revitalize the appearance of your property. Using high-pressure water jets and specialized nozzles, we remove dirt, grime, and stains from various surfaces to boost your property’s curb appeal. Moreover, acquiring our high-end Window Cleaning Services in Greenville SC, can keep your windows in pristine condition. We meticulously clean windows, removing fingerprints, streaks, and dirt, ensuring crystal-clear views, and enhancing the overall aesthetics of your property. For your convenience, we have also kept our service charges low. So, if you need our expert assistance, call us today.

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[simplysoftwashus]

Best Power Washing Services in Waxhaw, NC

Examine the efficacy of Simply Softwash. Our expert Power Washing services in Waxhaw NC, produce top-notch outcomes. Let us remove tenacious filth and grime so that the beauty of your property can be restored. You can depend on our professionals to fix your outdoor surfaces, leaving them immaculate and safeguarded. Discover right away what sets Simply Softwash apart from the competition. Dial: [phone].

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[sainaturalcleaning]

Sai Natural Cleaning | Commercial Cleaning Service | Pressure Washing Service in Chatham ON

Sai Natural Cleaning offers a top-tier Commercial Cleaning Service in Chatham ON, focusing on delivering a pristine and healthy environment for your business premises. With a commitment to using eco-friendly and effective cleaning methods, our team ensures that every corner of your office is thoroughly cleaned, promoting a productive and inviting atmosphere for both employees and visitors. In addition, Sai Natural Cleaning excels in Pressure Washing Service in Chatham ON. Our advanced techniques remove dirt, grime, and mildew, enhancing the curb appeal of your property. We are dedicated to delivering high-quality services that meet the specific needs of our clients, ensuring satisfaction with every project we undertake. Call us now!

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[premierwashprosllc]

Premier WashPros LLC

Nestled in the picturesque town of Hot Springs, AR, our pressure washing business is your go-to solution for achieving immaculate cleanliness for your commercial or residential property. As the search for “pressure washing near me” leads you to countless options, know that our service stands out with a commitment to delivering pristine results and unparalleled customer care.

Our professional team brings years of experience to the table, ensuring every job is executed with precision and attention to detail. We specialize in a variety of washing services tailored to meet the diverse needs of the Hot Springs community. From refreshing faded siding and dirty driveways to reviving outdoor patios and walkways, we employ environmentally-friendly techniques and state-of-the-art equipment to restore surfaces their original beauty.

Hot Springs' unique charm is reflected in its well-maintained homes and bustling businesses; maintaining this allure is what drives us. Our meticulous approach removes built-up dirt, grime, and unsightly stains effortlessly, thus protecting your investment over time. We value the trust our clients place in us as their chosen provider when they're searching for “pressure washing near me”.

For those residing or operating businesses within Hot Springs, AR, we offer flexible scheduling accommodating even the busiest lifestyles so that rejuvenating your spaces doesn't become another chore. Connect with us today pioneers in nurturing clean living environments through top-tier pressure cleaning services and witness how something as simple as a thorough wash can transform your space dramatically.

Contact Us :

Premier WashPros LLC

Address : 8223 Park Ave, Hot Springs, AR 71901, USA

Phone : [phone]

Website : https://www.yourwashpros.com/

Working Hours : 24/7

External Links:

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Coub

Ted

Hometalk

Buzzfeed

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[sophiamcdougall]

I am never going to complain about Greek Duolingo again

I mean, I am. But still.

So, as some of you know, my family has been coming to this tiny Greek seaside village for several years. Just over a week ago I came out here with my mum, under the impression that early September, after the height of the summer heat, would be a good time to have a holiday. ANYWAY Storm Daniel had other ideas about that. Locally things are improving (I'm actually really pissed off about the disaster-porn tone of most English-language media coverage, but that's another post). The power is back on, there's running water most of the time, and though the latter is not drinkable, a truck from the government came and handled out free bottled water yesterday. But we are currently kind of stuck. Can't do tourist things. Can't go home. There aren't any local flights out until Saturday and the road to Thessaloniki is still closed.

So this evening, feeling kind of aimless and depressed, I go down to the nearest beach with a couple of binbags and start cleaning up in an effort to at least do something positive. I always try to do this at least once out here and obviously, after the storm, there's a lot more plastic and rubbish than usual.

At some point I find this large, round bit of metal - some kind of machinery part, I think -- that's too big for the bag, so I take it to the bins on its own, leaving the rubbish bag on the beach. And when I come back for it, something among the stones beside it moves.

Specifically, it pulls its head sharply inside its shell

So, meanwhile I've been trying to learn some Greek with the help of Duolingo.

I currently have a 33-day streak and... I have questions. Shouldn't I be able to use the past or future tenses by now? Shouldn't I be able to say "x is like y"? I can't do those things. But one thing I absolutely can say all day long is έχω μια χελώνα : I have a turtle.

This is far from the limit of Duolingo Greek's turtle-related content. "An obsession with turtles" is my mother's characterisation. I can inform you that the turtle is not a bird, and, improbably, that the turtle is drinking milk. I can introduce you to a turtle in company with a horse and an elephant. As far as Duolingo is concerned, it really is turtles all the way down.

Now this, you may be able to see, is not a turtle. It has claws rather than flippers. It is a tortoise. I know there are wild tortoises in Greece: my aunt once rescued a pair of them shagging in the middle of the road -- but that was up in the mountains. I've even seen one myself, but it was also on a road and very dead.

I am 95% certain they don't belong on beaches. There's nothing for it to eat, except, unfortunately, a lot of plastic. Even if it gets off the beach it will immediately find itself on a road where it could get hit by a car. I'm pretty sure it must have been washed down by the floodwater and has been just sitting there, dazed, ever since.

Now obviously the first thing I want to do on encountering this unusual animal is to go and tell my mummy, so I do. The tortoise immediately brightens her day. She agrees that the tortoise is not happy on the beach and needs to be taken somewhere safe. it gets surprisingly wriggly when picked up so we put it in a carrier bag with some grapes and cucumber and go looking for somewhere to rehome it.

We find a path leading up between the houses towards a likely-looking field, but before we get very far a dog in a yard goes berserk and a man's head pops over a fence and demands to know what we're doing. He does this in English, as evidently we're just that obviously tourists.

"I found a tortoise on the beach!" I explain. "We want to find somewhere to put it."

"A what," he asks.

"It's like a, you know," I begin and then to my astonishment I find myself saying... "μια χελώνα"

"Oh! A turtle!" he says.

"But from the land. δεν είναι χελώνα", [it is not a turtle,] I say, as I am worried he will tell me to put it back near the sea where I found it. As it turns out it actually IS a χελώνα, Greek does not distinguish between turtles and tortoises, but I don't know that; I can't even name the days of the week or identify any colours other than pink yet, give me a break.

The man's entire demeanour changes and thaws. He does not worry about my turtle-that-is-not-a-turtle conundrum. He knows where οι χελώνες come from and where η χελώνα μας belongs. He leads us through a gate into a courtyard area.

"[somethingsomething] μια χελώνα," he explains to the assembled onlookers, of whom there are, suddenly, a surprising number.

"ΜΙΑ ΧΕΛΩΝΑ!!!" crows the throng of delighted small children, who are, suddenly, everywhere.

"μια χελώνα!" I agree, accepting that at least for current purposes, that is what it is.

"Μπορούμε να δούμε τη χελώνα σας; [can we see your turtle?]" asks an adorable little girl, shyly, and I understand??

The children fucking love looking at the χελώνα and showing it to them is kind of magical?

I finally put the tortoise down on the grass of this wild area off to the side of the courtyard, and marvel aloud that it is weird that I barely know any Greek except how to say μια χελώνα.

"I think she will soon run off," a kind lady called Aspasia assures me, seeing I remain slightly anxious about its fate. "I don't know why I'm saying 'she'. I suppose because χελώνα is feminine in Greek."

"Yes! I know that!" I exclaim, thrilled.

"Well done!" she says. And also she asks if we are OK for drinking water after the storm and if we need any help with anything and is just generally incredibly lovely and now we know more of the neighbours!

So "μια χελώνα" has just become, by a long way, my most-used and most understood and all-around most conversationally successful phrase in Greek. So I guess I have to admit I was wrong to doubt Duolingo's wisdom: it is correct to be obsessed with turtles. And I concede that prior to learning how to count to ten or to distinguish right from left, the simple ability to yell the word TURTLE over and over again is, it turns out, a crucial element of the responsible traveller's social skills.

(I am pretty fluent in Italian and turtles haven't come up in conversation even once?)

#story time

[housewashersnearme]

Unlock the Power of Pressure Cleaners Near Me

Have you ever found yourself staring at your dingy driveway or grimy deck, wondering how to restore their former glory? You're not alone. Many of us face the same dilemma, and that's where the magic of "pressure cleaners near me" comes into play. In this article, we'll dive deep into the world of pressure cleaners, explore how to find the right one near you, and why they're the unsung heroes of property maintenance.

The Quest for a Cleaner Property

Imagine your property is a treasure chest, and within it lies the hidden gems of its original beauty. Over time, dirt, mold, and grime cover these gems, making your property look tired and neglected. That's where pressure cleaners come to the rescue. They're like skilled artisans, delicately restoring your property's brilliance.

The Benefits of Pressure Cleaning

Before we get into the nitty-gritty of finding a pressure cleaner near you, let's explore why they're worth the investment:

1. Revives Curb Appeal: A clean exterior is like a fresh coat of paint, instantly making your property more attractive. It's the equivalent of putting on a crisp outfit for a special occasion.

2. Prevents Damage: Mold, algae, and dirt don't just look bad; they can harm your property. Pressure cleaning not only removes them but also protects your investment from costly damage.

3. Health and Hygiene: Mold and mildew can pose health risks. Pressure cleaning not only enhances the appearance but also creates a healthier living environment.

4. Eco-Friendly Cleaning: Pressure cleaning primarily uses the power of water, reducing the need for harsh chemicals. It's like cleaning your house with a conscience.

5. Increases Property Value: Just as regular exercise keeps you in shape, regular pressure cleaning helps your property maintain its value. It's a longevity boost for your space.

Finding the Perfect Pressure Cleaner Near You

The next logical step is to find a pressure cleaner who can work their magic on your property. But with so many options available, how do you pick the right one?

1. Referrals and Reviews

Start by asking your friends, family, or neighbors for recommendations. Their experiences can be a goldmine of information. It's like crowdsourcing the best-kept secrets.

2. Online Search

In this digital age, a quick online search for garden jet wash service near me can yield a plethora of results. Check out websites, read reviews, and look for companies with high ratings. It's like scrolling through a menu before deciding on the perfect dish.

3. Verify Credentials

Make sure the pressure cleaner is licensed, insured, and experienced. It's like checking the qualifications of a doctor before entrusting your health to them.

4. Get Multiple Quotes

Don't settle for the first cleaner you find. Contact several professionals, get quotes, and compare. It's like trying on different outfits to find the one that fits perfectly.

5. Ask Questions

When you meet potential pressure cleaners, ask questions. Inquire about the cleaning process, the equipment they use, and the expected results. It's like interviewing a candidate for a job – you want to make sure they're the right fit.

6. References

Request references from past clients. Speaking to satisfied customers is like tasting a dish before ordering it – you want to know it's worth it.

DIY vs. Professional Pressure Cleaning

You might be tempted to grab a pressure washer from the local hardware store and try to tackle the job yourself. While DIY has its merits, there are significant advantages to hiring a professional.

Expertise: Just as you'd consult a chef for a gourmet meal, professionals have the experience to handle different surfaces effectively, without causing damage.

Specialized Equipment: Professionals use high-quality equipment designed for various cleaning tasks. It's like comparing a chef's knife to a regular kitchen knife – one is designed for precision.

Time and Energy: Pressure cleaning can be time-consuming and physically demanding. Hiring professionals frees up your time and energy for other tasks. It's like having a personal chef prepare your meals, leaving you to enjoy them.

Safety: Handling high-pressure equipment can be dangerous. Professionals are trained to ensure safety and prevent accidents. It's like trusting a pilot to fly a plane safely.

Conclusion: The Art of Transformation

In the realm of property maintenance, pressure cleaners near you are the artists who can breathe new life into your space. They aren't just cleaning; they're restoring the hidden beauty of your property. So, the next time you gaze at your stained driveway or weathered deck, remember that a skilled pressure cleaner is just a call or click away. Let them work their magic, and watch your property transform into a shining gem once more.

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[checkroopillc]

Checkroopi LLC " A Junk Removal Company" | Waste Management Service | Junk Removal Company in Delmar DE

Ours is the most prominent Junk Removal Company in Delmar DE, helping clients reclaim their spaces. Whether it’s old furniture, appliances, construction debris, or general clutter, our team of experienced professionals is equipped to handle any junk removal job. We prioritize prompt and efficient service, ensuring a hassle-free experience for our customers. Moreover, acquiring our exceptional Waste Management Service in Delmar DE can help keep your premises free from unwanted junk or trash. From collection to transportation and proper disposal, we do it all with great care and precision. Superior customer satisfaction is what we prioritize the most, with quality ever-present in our services. So, if you need our expert assistance, call us today.

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[bubblesandsudzpowerwashing]

Bubbles and Sudz Power Washing | Pressure Washing Service | Power Washing in Naperville IL

We are your trustworthy go-to for exceptional Pressure Washing Service in Bolingbrook IL. Dedicated to restoring the sparkle to homes and businesses alike, we leverage industry-leading equipment and specialized nozzles. Our professionals work diligently to remove dirt, grime, and stubborn stains, rejuvenating surfaces and enhancing curb appeal. Moreover, we are also renowned for safe and effective Power Washing in Naperville IL. Our team ensures that each power washing job is completed to the highest standards of quality and safety. We have kept our service charges at the lowest possible scale for your convenience. So, if you need our expert assistance, call us today.

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[gutter-cleaning-company]

The Importance of Gutter Cleaning in House Washing: Why it Shouldn't Be Overlooked

Gutters play a vital role in protecting your home's exterior from water damage. But when they're clogged with debris, they can't do their job effectively. That's why gutter cleaning is an essential part of house washing. In this blog post, we'll explore the importance of gutter cleaning and how it can prevent costly damage to your home.

What are gutters, and why are they important?

Rainwater runs down your roof and into gutters, which channel it away from the base of your house. They prevent water from seeping into your basement or crawl space, causing damage to your home's structure. When gutters are working correctly, they protect your home's exterior and foundation from costly repairs.

Why is gutter cleaning important?

Gutter blockages can happen over time from leaves, twigs, and other materials. When this happens, water can't flow freely through the gutter system. Instead, it can overflow onto your roof or drip down the side of your house, causing damage to your home's exterior.

Ice dams can form in the winter due to clogged gutters. When water can't flow freely through the gutters, it can freeze and create a dam. This can cause water to back up onto your roof, potentially leading to roof leaks and water damage.

Regular gutter cleaning is essential to prevent these problems. By removing debris from your gutters, you can ensure that water flows freely through the system, protecting your home from water damage.

How often should you clean your gutters?

The frequency of gutter cleaning depends on several factors, including the number of trees around your home and the amount of rainfall in your area. Gutter cleaning is generally recommended to be done at least twice per year, during the months of spring and fall. You might need to clear your gutters more often if there are a lot of trees in the area around your property.

What dangers exist if you don't clean your gutters?

If you neglect to clean your gutters, you could be putting your home at risk of water damage. Water that can't flow freely through the gutters can damage your roof, siding, and foundation. It can also lead to mold growth in your home, which can be hazardous to your health.

Clogged gutters can cause water damage in addition to luring rodents, insects, and birds. These pests can create nests in your gutters, which can lead to even more damage to your home.

Gutter cleaning is an essential part of house washing that should not be overlooked. Regular gutter cleaning can prevent costly water damage to your home's exterior and foundation. By keeping your gutters clean and free of debris, you can protect your home and enjoy peace of mind knowing that you've taken steps to prevent costly repairs.

Service Areas

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[paintingservicesworld]

Exterior Painting Services For Homes That Promise To Deliver

Even though it's not always the case, the initial impression unquestionably sets the tone for the connection. Get the best residential exterior paint in Arvada for textures and patterns on your exteriors. Use the ideas to give your home an air of elegance and poshness to make it stand out. Paint your walls in warm, neutral colours on the outside to mirror the luxury they contain inside. The best technique to improve your property's curb appeal is to paint the exterior.

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[concrete12]

Concrete & Excavating Inc | Concrete Contractor Loveland

When it comes to providing the absolute best in concrete, repairs, and excavation services for your business or home, you only need to look as far as the professionals at Concrete & Excavating Inc. You can easily find a Concrete Contractor in Loveland CO. But you cannot go wrong by depending on the personnel with the most experience and a proven track record of excellent customer care. Concrete & Excavating Inc is always the best choice if you are looking for an Excavating Contractor in Loveland CO. We take great pleasure in our work and are confident that you will be delighted with the outcome. So contact us today, and we will be there for you!

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[simplysoftwashus]

Find The Power Washing Services in Fort Mill, SC

The best Power Washing Service in Fort Mill SC is Simply Softwash; revitalize your house. With the gentle cleaning and restoration provided by our cutting-edge technology, bid adieu to obstinate filth and grime. See the difference for yourself as our environmentally friendly method gets rid of stains, mold, and mildew, leaving your house looking like new. Dial [phone].

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[pressurewashingontario]

We offer Pressure Wash Restoration Ontario, exterior cleaning and property maintenance services for Residential, Commercial, Industrial facilities. We customize our services to meet your specific needs. Ask us about daily, weekly,  bi-weekly, and monthly service. Contracts welcome.

#Pressure Washing Company Ontario #Pressure Washing near me #Pressure Washer Ontario #Power Wash Ontario

[short-honey-badger]

Better this Way

This one was just for fun. I've been on a roll lately so I hope everyone has been enjoying my works! Again, feel free to ask me anything. I love prompts!

This is preLuffy btw so Shanks had both arms.

Warnings: Just some more smut. drinking too. Shanks falls hard and fast.

Masterlist

Your vision swam, but you weren't about to let that stop you from making it to the privy. You had to piss something awful after having another round of shots with the attractive redhead in the corner of the bar. Shanks, you would learn later, had shouted at you from his seat after watching you down drink after drink with no intention of stopping. You looked lonely, so he quickly decided that he should be the one to keep such a pretty lass company. 

The Pirate had been pleasantly surprised when a grin let up your face and his breath was knocked away in that moment. You looked radiant, with flushed cheeks and shining eyes as you sauntered to his table. He gulped and sat up straighter in his seat, and his stomach did flip flops when you sat down across from him and he could really see how your smile truly reached your eyes, the way your nose scrunched playfully at him and asked What're we havin'. Shanks was drawn in by your sunshine attitude and it made him feel warm inside just being near you. He had never felt this way before, and he vaguely wondered if there was something wrong with him.

"Anything that'll get you to stay here with me," Shanks had said and his grin had been dopey. Like a kid finding out his first crush. 

You had laughed and shouted for shots be be brought for both of them, and from there, conversation flowed as easily as water. You learned that he was a powerful pirate captain with an equally strong crew. He loved his crew and always fought for what he thought was right in the world. The more he spoke, the more you enjoyed his ideas of true freedom and being out at sea. It was refreshing to find someone so passionate about his ideals.

You told him that you were more of a drifter, content to go wherever the wind took you. You didn't like the idea of being tied down to some island so had stolen away on a ship when you were younger and hadn't looked back since. Shanks had asked if you wanted to join his crew, if only for being such a nice drinking partner, and you were careful to always change the subject back to more natural topics without answering. 

Now, hours later, You finally found yourself in the bathroom. You quickly do your business and then go to wash up. You sigh when the warm water rushes over your hands, and find yourself closing your eyes for just a second to enjoy it. You don't hear the bathroom door open and then shut with a soft click, but you certainly feel the pair of muscular arms that wrap around your waist.

"Shit!" you exclaim and jump, scared for a split second before you recognize the now familiar straw hat that Shanks wore, "You scared the hell outta me. What are you doing in here?" 

Shanks hums and proceeds to nuzzle his face in the crook of your neck. He was well and truly drunk now and it had felt like you were taking forever in the bathroom. Without thinking, he had risen from his chair and had gone to find his perfect girl. And how could you not be in his eyes? You laughed at his shitty jokes and understood his odd sense of humor. He felt his heart stutter and skip every time you sent him even the smallest look. Shanks knows that you are the one for him. No one else had ever made him stutter and blush like some fool before.

"Coun't wait for ya out there," Shanks slurs against your skin, and his arms tighten around your waist, "Felt like you were gone forever," he noses at your neck and grins at the way you shiver at his touch. Oh, he liked that. 

You giggle at his whiney tone and lean back into his chest. He was like a personal furnace, "It's naughty to sneak into the women's bathroom, ya know," You admonish with a teasing grin, but Shanks just shrugs his lean shoulders and tightens his grip on you. 

"Then let's get outta here. Just you and me," The captain urges. You turn in his arms to look up at him and admire how relaxed and carefree this man is. Sure the two of you had done some heavy flirting through the night, but this wasn't something you had thought would come up. Now that either of you would complain.

"Let's go then. I've got a place at the hotel down the road," You agree and Shanks lights up like a kid on his birthday. He is kissing you before you blink, lips hungry for your own at his groans into the kiss. From there, it becomes a drunken stumble out of the bar and to the hotel down the street. The Red-Haired Pirates see their captain leave and let loose a couple of drunken catcalls to his delight before the two of you slip out the exit.

Shanks has you pinned to the bed the second that the door is locked. He needs to keep kissing you or it feels like his chest would combust. He needed to feel you, all of you, open for him. You gladly surrender to his onslaught, moaning with reckless abandon when the pirate's tongue fills your mouth just right. He pulls away with a stuttered moan of your name, and when you catch sight of his face, the man is frantic with need.

"Lemme suck your cock, Captain," You demand and Shanks makes a broken sound in the back of his throat. He grabs the waistband of his pants and shoves them down and off with ease before rolling to his back. You settle between his legs, licking your lips as you admire the length in front of you. Shanks was not a small man whatsoever. You actually wondered how much of his dick you were going to be able to fit in your mouth. 

"Not scared are ya, Baby?' Shanks teases and grips his cock. The head is red and swollen and he nudges it against your soft lips, "You were the one who wanted to suck my cock."

Your cheeks burn at the insinuation that you couldn't take him. You show him how wrong he is by opening your mouth and taking him almost all the way down. You breathe harshly through your nose and clench your eyes against the sudden burn in your throat. 

"Fuck!" Shanks snarls and bucks his hips. You gag around him but refuse to move away. You take a second to adjust and then bob your head, swallowing him down with a whine. Precum and drool leak from your lips and the blowjob turns fast and sloppy. Neither of you are sober or patient enough to take your time right now. However, if Shanks has it his way, he'll have all the time in the world to worship you. 

The pirate shoves you off his dick just before he comes, gripping the base of his dick tightly to prevent himself from actually erupting like a preteen. You drop beside him with a content sigh and Shanks follows once he has himself under control. 

"My turn," He says, and then his mouth is exactly where you want him. He licks your end to end, tongue flattening over your cunt to gather up your slick and lap it into his mouth. Were you really that wet from just sucking him off? The thought had his moaning against your pussy and drinking straight from the source, lips smacking in obscene noises as he positions two fingers at your entrance.

Shanks shoves them knuckle deep at the same time he sucks your clit into his mouth. He pistons his hand, fingers scissoring to get you to loosen up for him. His tongue flicks your clit just right and your hands find his hair, gripping the strands tightly as you rut against his face. The captain pets your twitching walls through your first orgasm of the night and then pulls away. He makes a show of licking his lips as he grins down at you, "Could have eaten you for hours if I didn't want my cock in you so bad, Baby." 

You twitch your hips up, hissing when the head of his dick catches on your clit, "What are ya waiting for then?" You ask and Shanks falls to leave a lingering kiss on your lips with a chuckle.

"Impatient, girl," He rumbles and then kisses you again. His lips muffle the whine you make when he suddenly sinks into you, stretching your cunt far more than his two fingers had. Shanks gives you half a second before his own impatience runs thin and he begins to thrust. 

Your breath is knocked out of your lungs and you are left to hold on to the redhead's shoulders for dear life as he fucks you. There was no other word to use with how Shanks grips your hips and tilts them just right to have him rutting against your sweet spot. He ruts into you like it is the last day in this world, and you know then that you will never forget this man for however long you live. 

"Feel so good around me, Sweetheart," He pants out and rises so that he can watch you wither on his cock. One hand stays at your hip while the other smooths your hair away from your face, "So lucky to have found you," he continues and grits his teeth when you tighten around him. His hips stutter and he loses his rhythm for a second, "Gonna come soon."

"On my knees," You whine when his pace begins to falter again. You didn't want this to stop yet. 

Shanks reluctantly pulls out of you and you roll to your knees. Your face is buried in the sheets and Shanks grins at the view he has of your leaking cunt and jiggling ass, "This is nice too," he comments and then enters you with a sigh, sinking in even more in this position. He drapes over your back, pushing your hair aside so that he can pepper the sensitive skin of your back and neck with kisses and love bites. He desperately wants to sink his teeth in and never let go. 

You push your hips back to meet his thrust, needing more of him. He massages your hips as he fucks you from the back, "That's it, Baby. Just a little more," He pants out and then slips an arm under your leg. His fingers find your clit and you keen in pleasure at the unexpected touch, "Come on, Cream on my cock," The way he says your name has you coming with a cry and Shanks follows right after. 

He pulls out and paints your back with his spend. The hand on your hip grips to the point of pain, but you don't mind. Carefully, you lower your legs and hips to the bed, wincing a bit at the soreness there. 

Shanks doesn't go far, simply finding the edge of the sheet and cleaning the two of you up with messy strokes. Both of you are still sticky when he falls to the bed beside you, but neither could care. He curls close, throwing an arm around your waist and tugging you close to snuggle against his chest, "What you again later, "He slurs lowly and you giggle and nod, already half asleep in his hold.

The pirate would wake you twice more than night, whispering sweet nothing as he took you again, slow and sleepy. However, it would be you who woke first in the morning. 

Thankfully, Shanks still snoozed away and you took this time to memorize his beautiful face. This man could probably give you everything you could ever want, but you just couldn't tie yourself that close to someone. You were a drifter, just like you had told him at the bar, but guilt still ate at you as you slowly shimmied out of bed and dressed. You tear a blank page from your handy dandy notebook and write a quick note that is left on the nightstand along with the key to your room. You take one last look at his sleeping form as you grip the handle before turning away for the last time. This was for the best, after all. 

The sun would be high in the sky and you would be long gone by the time Shanks woke up. He blindly reached for you and frowned when his hand met the cold bed. His eyes crack open and Shanks quickly sits up when he realizes that he is all alone. His chest aches at the knowledge that you left without even waking him and he falls off the bed to rip the room apart as if that would make you reappear.

He spots the note and key as she blankets settle and dives for it, clenching it tight in his fist as he reads it.

Shanks, I'm sorry for leaving without a goodbye. It's better this way. If the seas are kind, then maybe we will meet again.

It is signed with your name and even a tiny broken heart that you had doodled last second. Shanks sits heavily on the bed, head bowed as he thinks. Soon enough, he stands and dresses swiftly. Your note gets tucked into the lining of his hat for safekeeping as he runs for the ship. Like hell would he wait for seas to bring you back to him? You couldn't have gotten very far in a couple of hours, so if he hurried, Shanks could find you himself. 

#fanfic #one piece #reader insert #smut #red haired shanks #shanks #shanks x reader #shanks x y/n #shanks x you

[sundaynightlive]

Paramour (Merthur)

In which Merlin's having issues with an entitled noble and Arthur comes up with a... creative way of fixing it.

(TW: Unconsensual sexual advances, mentions of murder and violence, and some sexual content, although explicit body parts are not mentioned and it's kind of like a TV cut-away, the scenes are not prolonged.)

Protective!Arthur, 5.4k words, Uther being dumb, per usual, and Arthur knows Merlin is a magic user! Please enjoy!

Merlin is seething and Arthur can see it. He may play dumb when it comes to many of Merlin’s emotions, refusing to be caught caring unless in the most dire of circumstances, but this is a new kind of anger entirely. Merlin’s prone to annoyance (both attracting it and being it), but this is far from something like that—this is genuine rage. Arthur’s not sure he’s ever seen him like this, flushed and eerily quiet, his fingers undoing Arthur’s cloak rather harshly, which he would comment about if he were not so concerned.

In Merlin’s defense, he seems to be making an attempt at feigning calm, but it does not fool Arthur in the slightest. He knows everything about Merlin, from his favorite meal to the boundless power that rests in his hands—Merlin’s a weapon, truly. A weapon who’s fingertips brush idly over his skin as he lifts the tunic over Arthur’s head, throwing that over his arm with the festival attire.

“What is it?” Merlin had turned, presumably to toss the clothes in the wash-bin that Merlin would undoubtedly take back to his chambers tonight, despite Arthur’s insistence that he needn’t complete tasks like that this late. The manservant stops, though, cold.

“Sire?”

Usually dripping in sarcasm, Arthur swallows hard at the unfamiliar, honest use of his title. 

“You are clearly furious. Have I done something?” 

Merlin is quiet for a moment, which leaves Arthur in embarrassingly tense anticipation. His last wish—and oh, if Merlin ever found out about this, he’d simply die—is to ever anger, disappoint, or even go so far as to irk his warlock companion. He may not act it, but having Merlin upset with him is truly disturbing. Sure, they bicker, and they pick meaningless fights, but that’s more just them than an actual distaste for each other’s company. 

It’s partially what makes each other’s company so tasteful, at least, as far as Arthur is concerned.

“No,” comes the reply, which is a relief, but also further troubling—if Arthur had not bothered Merlin, then what had? The night had been wonderful, golden fire-light licking through the hall as lords and ladies and rich-folk from kingdoms both near and far socialized, drank, and celebrated the sweet ending of a particularly harsh winter. Every time Arthur had caught Merlin in his gaze, he had been mingling with the knights, brilliant smile, unearthly gorgeous, gold glinting in his eyes, the laces of his tunic undone and revealing strong, pale chest, dark hair just a tad too long, dripping over his brow—

Christ—focus, Arthur. 

“Then what?” Arthur pries when no explanation comes. Merlin’s head tips back, and part of Arthur is disappointed, the other part grateful he does not see the delicious expanse of skin that motion exposes. Merlin heaves a deep sigh, and turns.

“Lord Edmond,” he says, fingers curling into expensive fabrics, cheeks flushed, “Refuses to leave me alone.” 

Edmond—some noble from the north Arthur was not particularly fond of, but had never caused much of an issue as far as Arthur had been aware. Kind of an inconsequential, irrelevant man. Handsome, sure, but old now—maybe fourty? Fifty? Ten years older than Arthur at least, and complacent. Not a hunter, not a soldier—

“I don’t remember him being too insufferably-friendly,” Arthur muses.

“This,” Merlin snaps, “Is beyond friendly.”

Oh. Oh no.

Fury sears through him like a fire-poker to the ribs, and he sets his jaw, unable to speak for a full, agonizing moment as he struggles not to fly out of his chambers to slaughter the man himself. He clears his throat, tearing his gaze from Merlin’s.

“Were these… welcome advances?” His heart leaps into his throat—

“Absolutely not,” Merlin says, “And if he continues, I’ll have to smite him where he stands, your father’s ridiculous laws be damned.” 

Arthur’s eyes widen. He looks back at Merlin.

“Can you smite people?!”

“No, but I could try.” 

Arthur wants nothing more than to reach out and soothe Merlin’s anger, and that ache is embarrassing, but not near as embarrassing as the idea tickling the back of his skull, quietly petitioning to be shared. Merlin narrows his eyes in Arthur’s direction—

“What?”

“I have… quite the solution.” 

Merlin scoffs, and turns back around to finally toss Arthur’s clothes. Arthur stretches his limbs a little bit, moving to sit down on the end of his bed and feeling his exhaustion wash over him. A few nights of this festival shit has him poorly-rested and sore in places he’s not used to being sore—he misses sparring, training, riding. If it were not already the early hours of the morning, he’d consider getting up at a decent hour to accomplish one of these.

He’ll be lucky to be up any time before noon.

“You couldn’t,” Merlin says, folding the clothes instead of tossing them—quite responsible of him, though Arthur’s sure the sheer cost of the clothing has Merlin a little more careful.

Or his rage is making him forget he’s usually negligent, as backwards as that seems.

“Gwaine and Percival have already warned him, and he does not seem to care one way or another,” Merlin rants, throwing the folded tunic down into the wash bin (there’s the Merlin he knows well) and whipping around, “And for the last three nights, it’s one uncomfortable, disgusting, completely inappropriate—”

“This has been going on for three nights?!” Arthur asks, incredulous and a little hurt. If Merlin was being made uncomfortable by a noble, Arthur should have been the first one to hear of it, and Merlin should know that by now. Additionally, Arthur knows Merlin quite enjoys this festival each year, and he’s decently agitated at the notion that some horny prick is ruining his manservant’s time.

The agitation is certainly not because Arthur would give any amount of money or body parts or perhaps his entire station if it meant he could be closer to Merlin than he already is—much closer. Infinitely closer.

God, how has this happened to him?

“He is absolutely unavoidable. He gets one chalice of wine in him and he’s touching me and saying insufferable things and—”

“He’s laid hands on you?”

Merlin quiets abruptly, his passionate distaste dying in his throat and on his face, and Arthur is certainly to blame. He couldn’t help himself—his tone had gone from disbelief and general annoyance to something much colder, much more serious. Unwelcome flirtation is one thing, but touching Merlin when Arthur himself hasn’t even been afforded the chance is absolutely unacceptable, and especially when the contact is uninvited and uncomfortable for the receiving party.

And that receiving party is Merlin.

Arthur feels murder sitting heavy on his chest.

“Arthur—”

“Here’s what’s going to happen, now,” Arthur interrupts, tone like ice. Merlin looks like he wants to argue, probably to reassure Arthur he’s fine and he doesn’t need to intervene, but he doesn’t try. He’s quite adept at figuring out now when his snide remarks are appropriate and when they are incredibly not. “Tomorrow night, when he begins to bother you, you’ll do that brain talking thing—”

“Gaius calls it Sending.”

“Right, Sending, and alert me. Then I will take care of the situation how I see fit.”

“But Gwaine and Percival already—”

“I am the crown prince of Camelot and if he’d like to maintain his title, he will listen to me. Should he disobey, I will fucking gut him.” Right, so, that second part wasn’t supposed to come out, but the already defeated look on Merlin’s face had pulled it forcibly from his tongue. Merlin does not look like he believes him in any way, shape, or form, but Arthur hardly cares. He’s too angry, murder on his mind, and Merlin will know this tomorrow night.

“It’s really—I shouldn’t have brought it up,” Merlin says with a sigh, crossing his arms over his chest, shifting from foot to foot like he’s suddenly very uncomfortable. Arthur doesn’t like that. Did he do that? “It’s not a big deal—”

“Merlin,” Arthur says firmly, “I should be the first to know when someone abuses their title to try and get away with matters such as this. Especially when it’s happening to you.”

Arthur thinks he must imagine the pink flooding Merlin’s cheeks, or maybe his anger is coming back. Merlin shifts awkwardly some more, and looks down at his shoes, shuffling them a little against the floor.

“Sire…”

“Yes?”

“I would… prefer you enjoy your holiday. Worrying for me is—”

“Merlin, go to bed,” Arthur says, “Because you are sounding more and more like I should beat you over the head with a club.” 

The grin on Merlin’s face seems to brighten the room, and the eyeroll is like a hundred worms wriggling around in Arthur’s stomach. Merlin turns and picks up the wash-bin with what sounds to be a scoff, but Arthur is almost certain is some sort of breathy giggle—

“Do not do that tonight. Go to sleep.”

“Don’t tell me how to do my job.”

“That is quite literally the entire point of your job!”

“Huh? What was that? I’m sorry, I don’t speak insufferable prat.”

“Merlin—!”

“Goodnight, Arthur!”

—

Arthur takes it lightly on the wine, and stays what he believes to be a safe distance away from Merlin at all times. He has a sort-of picture of Lord Edmond in his mind, but as he surveys the crowd, no-one seems to fit the image just right. It seems Arthur remembers him but not altogether too clearly, and the anticipation is starting to get to him.

Nobles keep trying to strike up conversations with him, but he can hardly pay attention. Morgana approaches him to see if he’s alright, but he’s lost sight of Merlin and he can’t answer her because he’s too busy scanning the room, so she gives up. Then, Gwen approaches to tell him of some business with one guest or another, but half way through, Merlin’s voice whispers through his mind, sending a shudder down his spine he can’t ignore.

It’s happening. I’d appreciate it if you could refrain from killing him. I’m not fond of washing blood off your clothes. 

Arthur stands.

“---and then she—Arthur?”

“Excuse me a moment,” he says to her, and perhaps someone else near him, but he’s not entirely sure. The lady to his left looks particularly disappointed, but swiftly turns to Gwen to try and trick her into divulging the latest gossip from the kitchens. 

Gwen seems less than enthused.

Lord Edmund is not particularly tall, but not particularly short. Merlin stands a few inches over him but he and Arthur are both considerably tall. He looks to be older, as Arthur had thought, probably early-fifties at the youngest, and despite how it hurts Arthur’s very soul to admit it, not terribly hard on the eyes. However, what is extremely off-putting (and particularly rage-inducing) is the way he has Merlin trapped between a table and a group of snickering lackeys, who occasionally glance over at the situation, amused.

A posse. This insolent Lord brought an entourage and is using it to try and scare Merlin into sleeping with him.

Arthur sees red.

“What do you think you are doing?”

Merlin starts, and Edmond jumps, stumbling backwards and away from Merlin just a bit, looking surprised, but not like he thinks he’s done anything wrong. Arthur is brimming, perhaps spilling, with rage, Edmond fixed in his stare like an enemy’s chest which his blade is sure to rupture. If Arthur had his sword, it would be lying against Edmond’s throat.

“Your highness—”

Arthur remembers himself. He had had a plan, hadn’t he? 

If Arthur were to tell this man off, it might work to dissuade him, sure, but it would teach him nothing. The festival was to last nearly the entire month, and a simple reprimand from a man so much younger than him—prince or not—would not hold to that length in time, Arthur was sure of it. Edmond would figure out a way to get around Arthur’s consequences or out of his sight, and then Merlin would be back at square one, and based on how Arthur had had to be the one to ask, he’s sure Merlin would not bring it up a second time.

Therefore, it would take more than harsh words to keep Edmond in line.

He turns, grabs Merlin by the side of his tunic, and yanks him forward into his embrace. He can only imagine the look of shock, but if this is to work, he cannot make his own nervousness known. He tilts his head and blows breath against Merlin’s ear as he speaks—

“It is my last intention to embarrass you, but there are few ways to make a man like this listen, and I am not interested in anyone’s hands on you but mine. I’ll meet you in my chambers when I have finished here.”

Once again, Arthur has said something he hadn’t meant to say, but now is not exactly the time to try and cover up for himself. He said what he said, and Merlin is ducking into the crowd, and there is a much more important matter at hand. He turns to Edmond.

“You would dare insult the crown prince in such a way?” 

This gets the attention of the lackeys, and many party-goers nearby. Arthur steels himself for the show he is about to perform, the backlash he will undoubtedly receive from his father, and Morgana’s incessant teasing until the end of time. This, and the rumors that will spread once these nobles are made aware—

“I’m sure I know what you mean,” Edmond answers, genuinely sounding clueless, but also completely calm, unphased by Arthur’s anger. Does this sort of stupidity come with age? Arthur must start reading more, if this is the case.

“You would shamelessly attempt to bed my paramour?” 

Arthur watches all the color drain from Edmond’s face, and feels a swelling of pride in his chest at the sight. He opens his mouth to say something, and then closes it, and repeats the motion, clearly at a loss. The lackeys scatter comically, and those in attendance of the show begin to mutter. He’s grateful he’s only captivated a small portion of the great hall, and not the entire thing, and his father is many, many crowds away.

“I—he—”

“I would throw my glove at your feet if I had a glove to throw,” Arthur spits, “And should you bother him again, or god forbid, lay a filthy hand on him, I will gut you without honor.” And so with that, Arthur turns on his heel and storms away, followed by murmurs and whispers, feeling somewhat relieved and incredibly satisfied, despite now having to explain himself to Merlin.

Right. Merlin.

—

“What did you do?” Merlin asks, all to accusing. 

“Promise not to smite me.”

“No.”

“I told them—“ 

“Ah,” Merlin interrupts, raising a hand. He stands up and off Arthur’s bed, and moves closer, much to Arthur’s dismay. “Actually, I don’t care.” 

Arthur blinks.

“But—“

“Did you mean it?” 

Arthur’s brain short circuits as he finds himself gazing into storms of gray, Merlin coming much closer than he’d expected. He mimicked Edmond, opening his mouth and then closing it again, swallowing hard. Merlin is watching him expectantly and Arthur is using all the strength he has not to glance down at Merlin’s lips and give himself away completely.

“Did you mean it?” Merlin asks again.

Did he—oh.

I am not interested in anyone’s hands on you but mine.

In all the chaos, he had half-forgotten. He had meant to turn and tell Merlin to go, to apologize for what he had decided to say next, but he had lost himself in the moment of being so close. He had invested himself too much in the “performance,” even in those few, short moments, and revealed himself. 

And now he would face Merlin’s reaction, whatever it may be.

“Yes,” he says, though it doesn’t come out as confident as he would have liked. Merlin searches his eyes for the lie—he dreads what could happen when the warlock finds none.

Merlin’s eyes flick downwards. Arthur’s stomach drops as he realizes Merlin’s eyeing his lips, the very same impulse he’d been begging himself not to give in to, and Merlin’s done it so close to him, so outright—

“You were jealous,” Merlin continues, and at this, Arthur scoffs. No, he was not jealous in the slightest of Lord Edmond because Edmond was a sad, elderly husk of a man who thought he could take what he wanted whenever he wanted, and Arthur is a young, handsome crown-prince who has waited over a year for any indication Merlin might feel the same as him. 

He would not dare use his position of power to press Merlin to him, not when Arthur loved him, and not when Merlin had spent his time here unknowingly teaching Arthur what that really meant. His parents had not done it, fleeting teenage flings had not done it—Merlin had. Undoubtedly.

“I would not be jealous of a man you didn’t actually want,” Arthur says, which he realizes then is insinuating he would be jealous of a man Merlin did want, so he tries to back track, “And regardless—!” He exclaims quickly, and Merlin’s responding smile digs up those worms.

“You’re obviously allowed to do whatever you want with whoever you want,” Arthur finishes, swallowing hard.

“Obviously,” Merlin repeats, lifting his hands to start undoing the clasps on Arthur’s robes. 

If Arthur wanted—no, not if wanted, because he does want, he’s just not sure what Merlin wants—he could tilt his head just so, lean in an inch, maybe two, and kiss him. They’re that close, and they’ve been this close before, sure, but Merlin’s acting different and his fingers work the clasps much slower and his face is absolutely unreadable to the point where Arthur is starting to panic. He prides himself on knowing Merlin very well, but right now—

“Even if it’s you?”

Merlin might as well have punched him in the throat. All the breath flees from his lungs as though it were never there in the first place, and his hands—he loses all command over them as he has his breath—reach up and grab Merlin by the waist of his tunic, the very same way he had done before, except this time when he pulls them together there is not crowd to convince or entertain.

He’s not sure how he manages to speak when he’s forgotten how to breathe, but—

“Especially if it’s me.”

When they kiss, finally, after the decade that seems to pass between their admissions and their lips meeting, Arthur loses his decorum entirely. Entirely. It’s like any restraint he’d had stored away left with his breath, and he is half-guiding, half-pushing Merlin, kissing him senseless until Merlin’s back hits Arthur’s bed and he’s wedged between Merlin’s thighs and it’s like this is where he’s meant to be, staring down at wet lips and heaving chest and—

“I heard what you said. About us,” Merlin manages between breaths, “I heard what you called me.”

Paramour. 

“I—“

“If you would have me, sire.”

If you would have me, sire.

The double meaning all but knocks him out.

“I will have you,” Arthur, “Over and over and over again until no one can distinguish one of us from the other.” You’re a piece of me, a second more brilliant half. I need you, I have needed you since I met you in the market that day, even when I treated you so harshly, and have been so—

Merlin tips his head back and laughs and Arthur’s maudlin inner-monologue fades away, mind wholly devoted to the sound and the man it’s coming from beneath him.

“Arthur—“ his name, god, his name, “—that is already impossible to do.”

—

Merlin turns out to be marvelous in bed, and not at all like Arthur had suspected he’d be (timid, hesitant). Instead, he’s incredibly, almost obnoxiously vocal, and not abashed in the slightest.

To be fair, though, Merlin never knew when to shut his goddamn mouth any other time, so perhaps Arthur had been foolish to think this sort of affair would be any different. 

When he wakes up to the knock on his door, it doesn’t occur to him to try and hide Merlin, or even wake him. He’d announced to a quarter of the party last night that they were sleeping together, and word-of-mouth in a castle filled with visiting nobles and their attendants is far worse than wild-fire. 

“Yes?” he calls, sitting up despite his nakedness, absently stroking Merlin’s dark hair. The messenger—a woman Arthur recognizes to usually be either in the kitchens or the wash rooms—shyly steps in, flushing deeply when she notices that Arthur is not alone.

“You’ve been summoned. By your father.”

Now this Arthur and not been expecting. To be reprimanded at brunch for making a scene, sure, but to be summoned is an entirely different issue. 

“Thank you,” Arthur says, tipping  his head, “You may go.”

She hurries out, and Arthur looks down, considering for a moment waking Merlin to dress him, and then upon seeing how peacefully his paramour—paramour, how lovely—is sleeping, opts against it. 

He can dress himself, surely.

—

“Brilliant,” Uther muses as Arthur enters, “We were starting to worry you had gotten lost.”

No, Arthur just couldn’t figure out which was the front and which was the back of his trousers for upwards of ten minutes.

“We” must refer to he and Edmond, Uther who is seated stiffly upon his throne, as usual, and Edmond who is standing quite relaxed beneath his gaze, which is Arthur’s first indication something here is clearly off.

“What do you want?” Arthur snaps. Uther does not falter, but Edmond looks over, clearly baffled by Arthur’s tone, and perhaps even the fact that Uther does not ask him to check it.

“Would you please explain to me,” Uther begins, “How you thought it appropriate not only to publicly humiliate a noble, threaten him, but also to treat your manservant as though he were property, and not a man of his own decisions.”

He cannot be serious. Arthur turns to Edmond, seething.

“You are far duller than you look.”

“Arthur!” Uther exclaims, sharp. Arthur crosses his arms over his chest, glowering at his father, terribly angry for what feels like the hundredth time in the past two days.

“I only acted in the interest of Merlin’s honor,” Arthur snaps, “He came to me accusing this feeble, brainless—”

“Are the insults truly necessary, your majesty?” Edmond asks his father, but Arthur continues, unperturbed.

“—wilddeoren of making unwanted advances.��� 

Uther frowns, and Edmond shakes his head, a completely unwarranted smile gracing his features. Arthur is certain this man is in need of several kicks to the groin and then some. Uther sighs.

“I told you, your majesty, he would come bearing all sorts of lies.”

“Lies!?” Arthur exclaims incredulously.

“You very publicly referred to Merlin as your paramour instead of your manservant,” Uther says, “In order to embarrass Lord Edmond into obeying your will.” Arthur’s jaw drops. Edmond does nothing to hide the triumph he is feeling, and all of this is making Arthur’s blood boil hotter and hotter. 

That’s… technically true, but as far as last night is concerned—

“Merlin is my paramour,” Arthur argues, causing a raise of his father’s brow, and the shake of Edmond’s head, “And if you do not believe me, summon Merlin, then. Although, that seems a spectacular waste of our time, because he should have been here to explain his side of the story in the first place, and if I would have known this insolent pig—”

“Arthur,” Uther chides.

“—was going to spin such an elaborate fairy-tale, I would have roused him and brought him myself, as he happened to be, conveniently, very close by, namely, right god-damned next to me.”

Uther heaves a sigh. Edmond doesn’t look convinced.

“Arthur—”

“Father,” Arthur says, very seriously, sensing the king’s exasperation and unwillingness to argue or reprimand a noble of his own age, and such a nonchalant demeanor, begging no guilt. What his father fails to see is that this is not because Edmond is not guilty, but because he’s certain there will be no consequences for his actions—and really, unless Arthur kills him in his sleep, or challenges him to a duel, there won’t be. Nothing but a childish slap on the wrist.

“Arthur,” Uther says again, firmly, “I would like you, before dinner tonight, to apologize to Lord Edmond—”

“Absolutely not!” Arthur cries.

“You will,” Uther says, firmness growing into a slight aggression Uther believes he will listen to, “Or you will not attend.”

“Then consider this the last time you see me today, your majesty,” Arthur snaps, turning to leave, “And if you are so opposed to taking the word of your own son over some half-wit jester, ask the servant who summoned me how she found me this morning, and who she found me with.”

He turns, just before the door, glaring back at both men—his father who looks vaguely disappointed, and Edmond who’s now red in the face, seemingly having realized what an impartial third-party’s account may do to his story.

“Or better yet,” Arthur muses, “Ask the knights who attempted to deter Lord Testicle—“

“Arthur!”

“—before I was forced to step in. And please,” Arthur says, finally wrapping this up into a neat little bow, “Do not send for me again. I have a long day and night planned bending my manservant over every flat surface in my chambers.”

“Christ, Arthur—“

“Good. Fucking. Day.”

And if the doors were small enough to be slammed, Arthur would have done exactly that.

—

“What is your name?”

“Oh—er, Katherine, your majesty. I work in the—“

“I know. I just have a question regarding the manner in which you found my son this morning.”

“Ah! Oh—umm… well… I’m not entirely comfortable… saying, my king.”

Uther sighs deeply, and waves his hand to dismiss her.

“That will be all.”

—

“You shouldn’t fight with your father on my behalf,” Merlin soothes, and Arthur would attest to enjoying baths much more when Merlin’s in the water with him. “It’s not worth the drama. And you should be enjoying the—“

“As you should have been, and as we should be, if it weren’t for Lord shit-pants—“

“Your insults are getting less and less clever,” Merlin teases, moving forward through the water to press his lips to Arthur’s throat, as if that’s supposed to make it better. Is this them now? Bickering like usual and then kissing it away? 

He could get used to that, yeah.

Arthur pinches Merlin’s thigh beneath the water in retaliation, so Merlin pokes him hard in the ribs.

“Ow!” Arthur exclaims, seizing Merlin’s wrist and yanking him forward, sending the boy effectively into his embrace, although Arthur is framing it as a restraint, tugging Merlin’s wrists behind his back and pressing his own teasing kiss to the man’s shoulder.

“Gotcha.” 

Merlin laughs.

“What I lack in glorious, sexy, beefy—“ he’s still teasing Arthur, that bastard, “—muscle, I make up for in wit.”

“And how is wit going to—?”

Arthur learns when Merlin uses the height at which his wrists are currently held much to his advantage, and grunts.

“Yes, I suppose that’ll do it.”

—

The next morning they are both summoned, Merlin teaches Arthur about his pants, and they make their way to Uther, chatting aimlessly, bickering uselessly. 

Arthur feels incredible. Wonderful, even. To be with Merlin and to not ache to be nearer, because he has been near and can be near, is like a breath of fresh air. His best friend is now his lover, and he could not have asked fate for anything more.

“Father,” Arthur greets.

“Your majesty,” Merlin says, but does not bow, because Merlin thinks bowing is ridiculous and now that he thinks about it, Arthur kind of agrees.

“I have,” Uther says, sounding wildly uncomfortable, which is the consequence of his own inability to take anything Arthur says seriously, “Confirmed with Katherine, the chambermaid, that you two are, in fact…” 

Arthur grins.

“Copulating?” He suggests.

“Fucking?” Merlin adds plainly.

“Fraternizing?”

“Fucking,” Merlin repeats.

“Lovers,” Arthur suggests, taking Merlin’s hand. They haven’t talked about that part of it yet, although he’s certain it had been implied. Merlin’s grasp tightens around his own, and their shoulders bump together softly.

“Yeah, probably that one,” he agrees. 

Uther is so red in the face he’d make a stunning rendition of Camelot’s flag had he painted a giant gold dragon over his features.

“Right, well,” Uther says, clearing his throat, “I assume you are both aware though… fraternization is certainly allowed, I cannot in good faith—“

“Paramour, father,” Arthur interrupts, because he doesn’t need to hear another word of “produce an heir” or “take a wife.” He’s highly aware of his duty, and if he weren’t, he would’ve dragged Merlin down to Gaius hours ago and demanded to be wed (or whatever version of wed can be done without the church). This way, the next time Lord Edmond or any other ridiculous noble tried to lay hands on his manservant, Arthur would have probably cause to shove his spear through their throat. “I know what can be done and what cannot.”

Uther nods, as if he had suspected this.

“Good. Then all we have to the discuss is the matter of Merlin’s new title—“

“Having sex with your son gives me a title?!” Merlin interrupts incredulously, and Uther goes red again, much to Arthur’s delight. He tips his head back and laughs because oh, how he loves this man.

Uther clears his throat, “Paramour is the title, and while not all of the Five Kingdoms make space for such a thing, I and the court of Camelot do entertain the notion that political marriages should not fall in the way of an actual connection. Therefore, you will be alleviated of your position as Arthur’s manservant—“

“I’d actually like to keep that, if I may,” Merlin interrupts again, and really, where does Merlin get off having the gall to keep cutting off the king. 

Probably somewhere in all those titles Uther doesn’t know Merlin already has—The Last Dragonlord, The Most Powerful Sorcerer to Ever Walk the Earth, Emrys, etc. Really, now that Arthur thinks about it, Merlin could cast his father out of the throne with the flick of his wrist, and assume Camelot under his rule, destroying those who dare defy him with little more than a thought and a spoken word.

But he doesn’t. Because of Arthur.

It is beginning to feel incredibly stupid that Arthur couldn’t tell if Merlin loved him back. Perhaps he really will have to start reading more.

“You would continue to work?” Uther asks, eyebrows raised.

“I would feel useless if I were not serving Camelot, and my prince,” Merlin says, “It’s kind of what I’m meant to do, regardless of what “title” I hold here.”

Uther nods as if he understands, which he couldn’t possibly, because where he technically assumes a mantle of service to Camelot, he was birthed to it. Merlin chooses his place here.

Merlin chooses Arthur.

He swears, every minute he spends with the man just sinks him further and further, lost to the warlock entirely, even though Arthur had been certain he was at the bottom before any of this even occurred.

“I will be honest,” Uther muses, “I am starting to see why my son likes you.”

Merlin, to Arthur’s surprise, bows his head to hide his pink cheeks, playing it off like a polite and silent “thank you.” Arthur removes his hand from Merlin’s and slips an arm around his waist. Leave it to Merlin to stand firm in the line of a King’s judgment, and buckle under half-baked praise.

Duly noted.

“Is that all?”

“Actually,” Uther says, “I’m sure you’ll pleased to hear I’ve tossed Edmond in a cell until tomorrow morning, because you and I both know—“

“There are few ways to make a man like that listen,” they chorus, and Arthur smiles, incredibly pleased at the idea of Edmond all wrapped up in silk and fine fabrics, cold and damp in a dirty old cell.  “Thank you, father.”

Uther waves his hand dismissively, but cannot help a slight smile at his son’s glowing approval.

“Away with you both. I will see you tonight.”

And Uther does, sitting with their chairs and knees touching, speaking in soft voices and drinking far too much wine, pink cheeks and bright smiles and a love like he remembers. Uther does not wholly understand his son’s affinity for his manservant, but he can understand being young, reckless, and excited to share breath with someone excited to share breath with you.

Yes, Uther, like Arthur, is quite pleased with this paramour. Quite pleased.

[Bonus Content]

Same Universe, Sillier Plot!

#fanfiction #lgbtq #writer #fanfic #merthur #merlinbbc #merlin bbc #merlin emrys #arthur pendragon #i did all my gushing on the teaser post so #i've really got nothing to say #hopefully if ppl come here from tik tok they aren't disappointed #i would be so sad #(but if you are feel free to give me constructive criticism) #gay