Summary: You wake up with a wicked hangover and a stranger’s number in your phone, without any recollection of the previous night. What happens when you decide to text your mystery companion to try to piece together your missing memories?
Author’s note: This is a Wade Wilson x Reader drabble series that the two of us here at Stark Tower are writing together! Inspired by @whyisbuckyso’s Typos (thank you for your support in this, Ari!)
Merlin has to jog to keep up with your steady pace. Even with an injured leg, you are still determined to walk just fine.
Faces pass with worried and confused looks at the stubbornness of you. As a Lady of the King’s Ward, you aren’t known for your strength.
“What are you doing, Merlin,” you huff, pushing through the pain searing through your lower half. You hadn’t wanted to servant boy to follow you just because he knows you’re weak and need help.
Merlin shrugs, keeping in step at your side.
“Keeping you alive, I suppose,” he mutters, loud enough so that you are the only one who can hear it.
You sigh, upset that you have to rely on someone else for something so important. Independence was always your forte and it had helped you get through rough times as a child.
The rest of your time heading to find Uther is spent in silence. You think back to the attitude you’d expressed with Merlin and regret it. Of course you hadn’t meant to offend him, but you couldn’t help feeling powerless in the situation.
You approach one of the soldiers stationed in the courtyard with a friendly smile.
“Do you know where I can find Uther? He wanted to see me immediately.”
The guard, you recognize to be a new trainee, nods, “He’s in a meeting with Prince Arthur in the hall.”
You quickly thank the man before heading toward your destination. As you step into the confines of the castle, you hiss at a jolt of pain shooting through your calf.
You groan, catching yourself on the stone wall beside you. Your leg threatens to give out beneath you and your face contorts in pain.
Merlin is holding you up as soon as he sees you begin to stumble. His hands grab carefully onto your waist and he searches your eyes to check your well-being.
“Merlin, I’m fine,” you whisper, glancing away and refusing to make eye contact with him again. You don’t want him to see your weaknesses.
You pull out of the boy’s grasp just in time to see Uther and Arthur turning the corner. The two men see you and start walking as quick as they can to meet you in the middle.
Uther’s arms wrap around you in a tight embrace and you gratefully return the affection. His head rests on your shoulder, a joyful expression on his and Arthur’s faces.
“How are you fairing?” Arthur interjects, motioning toward the bandages surrounding the wound.
You slowly release Uther from your arms and purse your lips together.
“Very well. Actually,” you peer back at the servant boy who’d since approached the three of you, “Merlin here has been a huge help, what with Gaius being busy all day. Sorry, Arthur, I didn’t mean to steal your servant.”
You chuckle at the sour expression on Arthur’s face until it softens. The prince and yourself had a dynamic like that of siblings. You loved teasing him and him, you.
“I’m sure we can find someone else to do Merlin’s job for a few days whilst he is aiding Y/n, right, father?”
Uther’s eyes narrow and his forehead scrunches up in concentration.
“Of course. Merlin, you are to return to your duties with Arthur as soon as Y/n has recovered.”
Merlin nods, “Yes, my lord.”
Uther’s attention turns to you and he smiles. You hardly ever see the man happy or show signs of it, but it’s a welcoming change.
“Let me know if there is anything you need while you’re with Gaius,” the king takes your hand in his, looking for reassurance that you won’t suffer on your own. He knows you better than anyone ever has.
You force yourself to bob your head up and down, though you know that you’re in good hands.
“I will, thank you.”
Uther pauses to catch you in a lie but doesn’t find one. He nods toward you and gestures for Arthur to follow him down the corridor.
The prince trails behind his father but not without sending a small glare at Merlin which you also witness. Both you and Merlin place it on Arthur’s unhappiness of not having Merlin around. Even though the prince would never admit it, he saw his manservant as a close friend, and not having him around was dull.
“Let’s get back, then,” you interject the short-lived silence, trudging out the way you had just come.
You feel Merlin’s presence and the overwhelming tension that goes along with it. He is most definitely confused as to your sudden change of emotion, though it has nothing to do with him.
It is your own internal dialogue that keeps you from initiating a conversation with him. You’re too scared of showing a weakness, though he had already seen you at such low points. You’re afraid of him having a change of heart, that now, suddenly, you’re too much of a challenge to have a relationship with (though with Uther as king, that option wasn’t open to start with).
“I’m sorry.”
The words startle you out of your own thoughts and you tilt your head to face the boy.
“You’ve nothing to be sorry for. My hostility was was not targeted at you. I’m… I’m just frustrated with all of this.”
You don’t expect the sorcerer to understand your predicament at all but with the look he’s giving you, it seems he does to a degree.
“C’mon,” he says softly, leading you back into the comfort of the home you’d been staying in. The immediate warmth of the place hits you, sending a small smile to your face. Gaius seems to have gone off somewhere, leaving you and Merlin on your own.
The door closes and you’re instantly wrapped in a pair of arms from behind. You bite out a short laugh, leaning back into Merlin’s body. His lips are pressed to the top of your ear; you can feel his deep breaths against your skin.
“Asking for help is not a weakness, Y/n,” Merlin whispers.
You shudder at the sound of your name falling from his mouth. He had never obeyed your requests to be called anything other than ‘my lady’ until now. In this moment, you’re so intoxicated with the scent and surroundings of him that you’ll listen to any word he speaks.
“You’re my weakness,” you retort with a smirk, reaching a hand up to cup his face and bring his lips to meet yours. You tilt your head back to fully kiss him, taking all the pleasure you can from the thought of him.
Merlin’s hands drop to your waist, his mouth quirking upwards as your body responds happily.
“Eh hem,” a male voice clears their throat and you jump away from Merlin as fast as you can.
Your eyes dart to the newcomer who had intruded on you and the sorcerer in a compromising position.
“Arthur, please do not tell Uther.”
Arthur’s eyebrows raise as if to challenge your request and you and Merlin stare wide-eyed, waiting for the prince’s response.
Arthur: It’s a miracle. It’s been a full day since something completely bullshit has happened in Camelot. No one’s been cursed or pranked or stuck in a closet and no one’s stolen the cook’s pies and–
Gaius: Oh, by the way, Sire, Merlin’s off gathering herbs for me. Gwaine accompanied him.
If I leave, you’ll never be the same. You might even die.
Fuck off.
You think Luthor survived? Don’t be a fool. No one survives being the vessel of an archangel. You’ll be brain dead the moment my grace leaves your veins.
… I’ll be fine.
You won’t be.
You need me, now.
You think you’re unkillable, Dean Winchester. You think that angels and demons and all beings of your world are beneath you – you think you’ll live forever but you’re wrong.
You’re only human.
Stop acting like heaven and hell bow to your whims with a crook of your finger –
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