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tempting-andromeda · 9 months

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Fuck it writing for rdr2 now

Nsfw headcanons

Warning: smut, knife play, somnophilia, power dynamic, spanking, hair pulling, bruises.

Characters

Arthur Morgan, John Marston, Dutch Van Der Linde, Charles Smith, Javier Escuella, Sean MacGuire, Lenny Summers, Kieran Duffy,Micah Bell, and Eagle Flies.

Arthur Morgan

He likes for sex to be intimate but he gets a rise out of things escalating. Like you two are in bed about to sleep but like 20 minutes later your legs are over his shoulders and he’s shushing you to stay quite.

He doesn’t force moments between you two he likes when it’s natural.

He laughs softly at you if you get too eager for him. He teases you and degrades you for it softly like “Really? This desperate for me? Guess I gotta give you a good time don’t I, Girl/boy.”

He likes to hear you talk during it even if it's just jumbled moans. He'll ask you questions like “That feel good?” and he likes a response but he doesn't force it (unless he's being rough then he'll stop moving and make you reply)

Sex is personal for him so he likes to make you feel good and sometimes he completely forgets about himself.

John Marston

He likes being in control but simultaneously he likes when you’re in control as well. He’s a complicated man.

He’s so fucking eager. Sometimes he forgets about foreplay but once he remembers he focuses on making you finish until you’re barely able to take him.

He’s real into dirty talk. He simply cannot shut up. He’s between your legs describing how you taste.

He has a high sex drive yet he cums quickly. He goes multiple rounds to make up for it though.

He’s so sensitive. He tries to pretend he’s not but after a while he starts begging you to bite his neck or use your mouth on him.

Dutch Van Der Linde

He likes a power dynamic. He likes being dominant and he doesn’t like that changing. If you try to top or be dominant he sees it as a challenge.

He’s into humiliating you but he doesn’t like bringing it out of the bedroom. He likes seeing you on your knees as he sits in a chair and he likes making you beg to suck him off.

He likes brats. He’s into the challenge and he likes making them submissive. It’s a huge thing for him if you act all bratty.

He likes to lightly smack you but doesn’t actually apply pressure unless he’s spanking you. Like if you back talk or something he grabs your face and uses a stern voice and after you say “yes sir” he lightly taps your face.

Really likes to stand back and admire you after he’s done with you. Looking at your panting frame and fucked out face. It makes him so proud. If he could he’d have a picture of it.

Charles Smith

He’s super into passionate slow sex. Pressing his forehead against your chest as he praises you but sometimes he can’t seem to hold himself back and he fucks like his life depends on it.

Like he’ll have your legs spread in a nearly humiliating way but he’s complimenting you the whole time, praising your very existence.

He likes when you wrap your legs around his waist. It makes him feel like you’re desperate for him as well and it drives him crazy.

He’s a munch. No doubt about it. Sometimes it’s the only thing he wants to do. He’ll lay in between your thighs like he’s starved.

Having sex with Charles is like experiencing a Hozier song first hand. At the end of every night with him you have absolutely no doubt he worships you.

Javier Escuella

He’s into knife play but he’s not entirely into drawing blood. He’s into cutting your clothes off of you. Like completely ignoring the buttons on your shirt and instead just running his blade along the buttons, snapping them off.

He’s real into hair pulling both ways. He likes fucking you from behind to pull your head back so he can kiss you and he likes when you pull his hair in missionary.

Possessive. No doubt about it. I feel it in my bones. He always asks you who you belong to before you cum and he gets a huge rise out of it. He makes your scream out his name at least once every time y’all have set.

He’s super into quickies. He likes to pull you away for a bit and absolutely destroy you and then go back to what you were doing and watch you struggle to pretend like nothing happened. It’s a huge turn on for himz

He likes to cum on you instead of in you. He’ll finish in your chest, back, stomach, face. He’s so into it. He likes knowing you’re a mess for him and you’re allowing him to do this to you.

Sean MacGuire

He’s huge on praise. He needs you to tell him he’s big and that no one makes you feel this way. It drives him crazy.

He’s super messy when he fucks. There’s something about it that makes him feel prideful that you’re a mess and he’s a mess.

He likes to humiliate you but in a different way from Dutch. Dutch does it for the power dynamic and he does it just because he likes the idea that he’s the only one allowed to do this to you.

He’s a head pusher but he always makes it up to you afterwards by making you pull his hair when he goes down on you.

He likes having sex in semi public places. It fills him with such adrenaline he’s trying to go again afterward.

Lenny Summers

Hes into handjobs. More than anything. If you put your hands in his pants he’s nearly crumbling that instant.

He likes when you go down on him randomly. Like he’s reading a book and suddenly he’s getting head or waking up to head? It’s so attractive to him.

He knows what you like and what you don’t like and his fingers are magical. Sometimes he tries to multitask and do something else while he fingers you but he ends up giving in and giving you all of his attention.

He’s real nervous at the idea of people catching you two so he just whispers a lot of praise in your ear. He feels horrible degrading you but he tries.

He moans at everything. Like if he goes down on you, he’s moaning the whole time. If he’s touching you he’s still moaning. It’s just attractive to know he’s doing something that arousing to you.

Kieran Duffy

He likes when you tell him what to do. He’s real clumsy most of the time and if you lead his hands and body and tell him what to do he’s determined not to fail.

His dirty talk is mostly him asking for reassurance like “am I doin’ good?” Or it’s just him worshiping you.

He whimpers and whines so easily it’s like he’s getting fucked. (Or he is) he gets real embarrassed afterwards but he doesn’t try to stop

He begs to touch you even if you’re not holding him back or telling him he can’t. His hands could even be on you and he’s begging to touch you.

He moans so loud when he cums. He always tries to cover his mouth to muffle it or he buried his face into you to prevent anyone from hearing.

Micah Bell

He’s rough. Real rough. A night with him probably ends with a few bruises and a sore body and he’s real smug about it too.

He likes watching you pleasure yourself. Sometimes he’ll touch himself as you do so and after you both finish he won’t touch you.

He loves edging you. Sometimes he pulls away right before your climax and wait for you to beg. Once he got up and nearly left just to see your reaction.

He likes shoving your face into the pillow as he fucks you from behind. It makes him feel dominant and like he’s in control.

His praise is really rare so he saves it for a special moment. He’ll have you hanging off the side of the bed as he bellows your back out and he makes sure you hear him when he speaks, grabbing you by the back of the neck just to whisper something like “look so pretty from back here, slut.”

Eagle Flies

Experimentalist to the core. He wants to try everything at least once. He thinks it’s a huge trust thing to experiment with intimacy.

He likes showing off his strength and stamina so he likes to lift you up to fuck you. He can last so many rounds too so by the end both of you are panting and tired.

He says “I love you” during sex. He feels so intimate to say it and he likes to make eye contact as he does it. He knows it’s cheesy but he likes to say “I love you” while he finishes

He likes to talk about your sexual fantasies and tries to recreate them as best as he can. He feels like he has to prove that he’s better than some fantasy and he never fails.

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charlessainzz · 2 months

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can do like reader with charles getting quite a few feature on dts here and there moments. thank you! i don't really like dts but I love the ferrari bits!!

My first request! Thank you for requesting this, it was fun to write! I hope it’s good!

Drive to Survive’s Newest Star is… Not a Driver??

Take One:

Cameras were everywhere. It was another Drive to Survive filming day. These days always made you nervous. More cameras than usual, more eyes than usual, and more opinions than usual. Luckily you were feeling good. You were decked out in head to toe Ferrari merch. White lace cami, vintage red leather Marlboro pants, red peep toe Manolos, with a number 16 cap. You looked the part of a die hard Ferrari fan. More importantly you looked the part of a die hard Charles Leclerc fan. And you were. His wonderful, supportive girlfriend of 2 years. His biggest fan.

You felt the camera pan to you as Charles made his way through the garage you. He had just finished FP1 and well lets just say it wasn’t looking great… He needed you now and Charles could care less if the DTS cameras were watching. Your eyes light up as you see him getting closer to you. He grabs your waist and nudges your nose with his.

“Hi,” you squeak, anticipating a kiss.

“Hey..”, he whispers. “That was pretty bad wasn’t it”.

“Mmhmmm car looks pretty rubbish”, you giggle. “But that driver…. He’s pretty great. Makes a worthless car worth driving”, you say as you give him a peck.

You both embrace in a tight hug and another kiss. Feeling the cameras rolling and hearing the photographers clicking away, you both start laughing. Oh this will be Netflix gold.

Take Two:

Rain in October and in Austin, Texas. What are the odds! A usual dry race with an unrelenting sun had turned into a gray, storm filled race. The track was almost flooded. The radios of drivers shooting off justifiably angry that the race hadn’t been red flagged yet. The DTS cameras were here of course. Another perfect scene for them, they’d definitely be getting the footage they wanted.

Your hands enclosed in a prayer, begging for the officials to do something. To call for a pause, to cancel! There was no way the race could continue like this. Visibility is almost next to zero. You intensely listen to the radio, checking for Charles’s voice. He’s mad, he can’t see, and he’s ready to get out of the car.

You’re watching the screen as the cars begin to slow around a turn, you see Charles and Pierre bump sending Charles off the track. It was all in slow motion. His car and your reaction moving at the speed of molasses. While the bump seemed minor, there were more cars headed his way. That’s what scared you. Just as that thought enters your mind, Checo’s car shoots down the track and narrowly misses Charles sending water crashing into him. You let out a shriek and cover your face crouching to the ground. The cameras all turn to you, documenting your reaction. You peek through your fingers seeing everyone staring and the lens facing you. At first you feel embarrassed but then you remember, that’s your man! You stand back up, straightening your posture, and brushing your hair off your shoulder. Arthur envelops you in a hug and points to the screen.

Charles is being rescued by the emergency crew and he’s making his way back to you. He’s coming back to the safety of the garage and the safety of your arms. The DTS cameras know what’s coming next, and they stay on you waiting for the paddock’s favorite couple to reunite.

Take Three:

Silverstone was always packed. But this year felt different. The crowd looked like sardines packed into a tin can. No room to move or even breathe.

Charles held open the car door for you and grabbed your hand. He knew you didn’t love these crowds. He held your hand tight as you walked into the paddock. Cameras flashing, fans screaming, and DTS film crews lurking. You and Charles had one mission. Get to the Ferrari building as fast as possible.

Hands stuck like glue, you’re both practically running through the paddock. Of course, Charles being the man he is, has to stop and take pictures. But this leads to more attention and bigger crowds. You don’t mind, you know they love him. He deserves the love. Yet, the crowd becomes more…. pushy, more desperate for a glimpse at the Ferrari man.

As he takes the millionth picture, you feel someone clench your arm and rip you from Charles. Letting out a scream, you fall into the ocean of the crowd. A man, desperate to get a picture, had done the unthinkable. He put his hands on you. Charles felt you instantly leave his presence. He snaps around grabbing your hand once more, and focuses his attention at the man.

“Don’t you dare touch her!”, Charles growls with a finger in the man's face. That’s when you notice a boom mic over you capturing every second of this interaction. You let out a groan knowing that this will probably be in an episode. But hey! Your man was protecting you!

His arms wrap around your shoulders and you both rush through the crowd heading towards the Ferrari hospitality. To the safety of your second home. Fans still hot on your tails screaming, “Leclerc! Y/n! Wait!”. Unknown to you both, DTS cameras are right behind you. Capturing the knight in shining armor protecting his princess. After what felt like a marathon, you see the Ferrari crew waiting at the entrance to welcome you in. Like deer leaping through a field, you both jump through the front doors. Doors closing, the cameras catch you both hunched over trying to catch your breath still clinging to each other. Like a wildlife documentary they sit at the door documenting two creatures that had just escaped a near death experience.

After taking that moment to pause, you turn and see cameras pressed against the door recording you and Charles. You can’t help but let out a big belly laugh tapping him on the shoulder to look. Charles sees, grabs your hand, and flips off the camera pulling you towards his room.

This episode will definitely be talked about!

Take Four:

He takes the checkered flag! Charles Leclerc wins the Las Vegas Grand Prix!

The whole garage erupts into celebration. Charles wins! Carlos in 2nd. It’s a 1-2 result for the Ferrari team. What more could Fred have asked for. The whole garage runs towards the podium, awaiting their boys. You take off running towards the barrier followed by a film crew of course. Unsurprising to anyone, the Drive to Survive team is here to capture the lavish race that is Vegas.

The podium waiting area is front to back red. You want to see him, you need to see him. But how can you get to the front? Not wanting to be rude, you tap shoulders and whisper ‘excuse mes’. As people turn ready to shout at the person cutting through, they recognize you. With sheepish smiles they usher you through to the front. Cameras following, but you could care less.

Finally, you're at the front waiting for the drivers to exit the cars. Barriers crushing your ribs, you can feel your heart ready to leap out of your chest in anticipation. Then there he is! He leaps out of the car and throws his hands up. He points to the sky, and then points to the team. Jumping down he sprints to the Ferrari team ready to welcome back their champion. He leaps into the arms of the first team members he sees. Everyone reaching to touch him, to congratulate him, to get a glimpse of their driver. He scans the front row looking for you. He knew you’d be there but where are you? As he takes off his helmet he sees you. Tears have stained your cheeks and hair a mess from running.

Charles jumps to you and grabs your face. Hands over your jaw, he brings your lips together. The kiss says everything and more. Cameras push in closer and closer as you continue kissing your driver. You break apart and laugh knowing what they’re capturing. Charles looks you in the eyes and says, “Another kiss for the winner?”.

“Always”, you beam and bring him back into you. Charles takes a hand and pushes the lens away from you both. Trying to get some privacy in the most public situation ever. The film crew lets up knowing they just got their shot. They just got the money shot of their number one F1 driver and Drive to Survive’s newest star… who’s not a driver. Who would’ve thought!

#request #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc #f1 fic #f1 x reader #f1 imagine #writtenbycharlessainzz #f1 x y/n

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formulapai · 6 months

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HOSPITAL TRIP

part of the BROTHER IN LAW series

scenario: she wasn’t hurt that bad, they were just over-exaggerating..

warning: hospital, vomit, falling down the stairs, minor concussion

pai’s words: it sounds really bad but it’s NOT I promise. also, my brothers call me “ma puce” quite often, which is a REALLY known nickname in France, and it literally translates to “my flea” and it’s ?? weird ?? so I translated it as “sweetie” to match the vibe ! ALSO I had a concussion once when I was younger because one of them pushed me into a wall while riding a bike, fun times 👍🏻

based on a true story (I broke my pinky and my brothers acted like I was on deathbed, calling my UNCLES to tell them all about it 💀💀💀)

“Bon Océ, tu fais quoi là?” (Océ, what are you doing?)

She hears her twin brother’s exasperated grumble as she finishes getting ready, fastening her new heels’ strap around her ankle.

“Roh ca va Thuthur, je suis prête!” (Cmon it’s fine Thuthur, I’m ready)

She excitedly runs out of her room and down the stairs, ready to go to the restaurant with her brother. They’re joining their mum and older brothers there for their weekly dinner. Or well, they should have been, but the night’s plan are forgotten as Arthur sees her sister tripping in the stairs and miserably falling down. She’s at the bottom of them when he finally unfreezes and rushes to her, screaming her name. The woman stays unmoving but awake for a few seconds, too stunned to comprehend what has happened.

“Oh putain, ça va ma puce ?” (Oh fuck, you alright sweetie?)

Océane snorts and holds a thumbs up, trying to get up but quickly realizing her mistakes. She groans as pain shoots up her spine and bangs around her head. Damn, maybe her fall was a little worse than she thought. Her brother holds her as she sits up and grits her teeth as the banging in her head grows stronger. He sees right through her game and shakes his head.

“Va sur le canapé, je les préviens qu’on va être en retard.” (Go sit on the couch, I’m telling them we’re going to be late)

She tries to do as he said but isn’t able to get far as her vision goes black and she slumps back on the ground in a frankly humiliating position that she KNOWS her brother would have made fun of her for if it was any other situation. Once her vision is back, she finally manages to get up towards the couch and lets herself fall on it with a sigh. She slowly looks over at whatever she can see of her body, noticing that nothing seems broken or even bruised and she thanks her lucky star for it. In the back of her mind, she pictures Pierre nagging at her for choosing the very own shoes he told her to be careful with. Of course she didn’t listen, and of course she should have. It’s a known fact she’s the clumsiest person ever.

“Bon, j’ai prévenu Maman, tu te sens comment?” (Alright, I’ve told mom, how are you feeling?)

He sits next to her and does a quick visual checkup, coming to the same conclusion as hers.

“Ca va, ca va, juste un peu mal à la tête.” (I’m fine, I’m fine, just a headache)

Arthur frowns at that, concern written on his face.

“T’es sûre que ca ira ? ‘Fin tu sais, ils nous disent toujours de faire gaffe à ca justement, les cervicales, tout ca..” (You sure it’s going to be fine ? I mean, they always tell us to be careful about this, cervical impact and all)

Océane snorts, of course he’s going to compare her fall to the extreme risks of his job. As if she’s that hurt. She shakes her head but quickly regrets it when buzzing fills her ears and she’s hit with a wave of nausea. Quickly getting up despite her state, the sister rushes to the bathroom and kneels in front of the toilet. Her head is so loud, her vision doesn’t seem to be working as she’d like, and in the midst of it all, she can still hear her twin’s voice as he rushes after her. He stops at the door and waits for her to finish, ready to help her if needed. He knows something is definitely wrong, she probable hit her head during the fall.

“Bon, je previens Maman que je t’emmene aux urgences” (Well, I’m telling mom I’m taking you to the ER)

The other twin spits the water she was gurgling and turns around, eyes wide and arms crossed.

“Non mais tu vas pas m’emmener aux urgences pour une chute ?” (You are so not taking me to the ER because I fell?)

Arthur stands his ground and levels her with a glare, his mind already made up. She scoffs as she goes back to the living room, taking her phone and seeing messages from her brothers and his boyfriend. She’s about to answer to some of them when her phone lights up with a call from Lorenzo that she’s quick to accept.

“Va à l’hopital ma puce” (Go to the hospital, sweetie)

“Tu vas pas t’y mettre aussi Enzo, c’est n’importe quoi” (Not you too Enzo, it’s bullshit)

“Non mais il a raison, ca peut etre grave ! Vaut mieux prévenir que guérir.” (But he’s right, it can be serious. Better be safe than sorry)

In the corner of her eyes, she sees Arthur smiling triumphantly as he listens to the conversation and already has her bag in his hands, ready to go.

“Mais Enzo, je suis juste tombée, je suis meme pas blessée !” (Cmon Enzo, I just fell, I’m not even hurt)

Océane hears shuffling on the other side of the phone and rolls her eyes as Charles comes to the phone.

“Océ ! Va au moins voir si tout va bien, je t’emmène à ton café préféré demain si t’y vas !” (Océ, at least go there to check if everything’s fine, I’m taking you to your favorite cafe if you do)

“Bon ok, mais si je me fais disputer par les infirmieres parce que je gache leur temps, je dis que c’est de votre faute !” (Fine, but if the nurses tell me off for wasting their time I’m telling them it’s because of you guys)

She faintly hears her mother laughing as she hangs up and turns to her brother, vision becoming blurry once again. She doesn’t pay any mind to it and gets up, walking towards the front door and towards his brother’s Ferrari. Dumb boys and their dumb obsession with the Italian cars. As soon as they’re on their way, her phone’s connected to the radio, yet another person calls her. She shakes her head and answers, the car radio coming alive.

“Mon ange, j’ai eu Charlo au telephone, c’est quoi cette histoire encore ? Tu vas bien ?” (My angel, Charlo called me, what’s this all about ? Are you okay ?)

Arthur snorts and decides to expose her and her damn shoes, how she fell and pretty much every details there is to know about it. She’s very tempted to take the steering wheel and crash the car.

“Bref, on va pas en faire tout un plat, je suis tombée et ils exagerent, comme d’habitude.” (Anyway, no need to blabber about it, I fell and they’re overreacting, as usual)

Pierre chuckles and stays on the phone with them until they arrive at the ER’s parking lot, making his girlfriend promise to keep him updated. Arthur leads them towards the desk, her dizziness returning once she’s out of the car, and explains the story to the nurse there, turning towards his twin to see if she needs to add something. Océane tells her symptoms, how she feels as if her head is going to explode, how she felt sparks shoot up her spine when she fell and the pin just stayed in her head after that. They wait for a few moments, the waiting room surprisingly empty. Her brother distracts her and launches into a monologue about whatever game he discovered with his friends the night before during a livestream. It’s not long before she’s called over, having a nurse do a simple checkup on her, shining a light in her eyes, taking her temperature, the basics. Only later, when a doctor enters the room to tell her the diagnostic, she softly laughs. The professional assures her that it was a good thing they insisted on having her come to the hospital and sends her off with a few instructions.

“Un trauma cranien, TRES leger!” (A concussion, a very minor one)

Arthur shoots up his seat and joins you towards the exit, blabbering about how they were so right, how she absolutely needs to rest and drink and acting as if she’s a one year old. The nail in the coffin is when he insists on calling her boyfriend to tell her he needs to come ASAP to take care of her because “it’s his job as your boyfriend !”. They argue all the way back to the apartment and even after they arrive, the twin brother insisting on having her laying in bed for the rest of the evening.

“Arthur, t’es saoulant là, sincerement” (Arthur, you’re annoying, sincerely)

But he’s gone before she can finish the sentence, so she grumpily settles on the bed and waits. Of course he took her phone, claiming that the screen was going to worsen the situation. Again, for a minor concussion. A simple minor concussion. She’s soon lost in her thoughts, not hearing when voices are suddenly coming from the entryway, not even noticing the soft knock on her door. She does notice her boyfriend’s very amused face as he looks down on her.

“Non mais je reve, dis moi qu’il t’a pas dit de venir ?” (I hope I’m dreaming and he didn’t tell you to come)

Pierre’s facade breaks and he cackles loudly, slapping his thigh. He proceeds to tell her everyone is downstairs, her brothers absolutely serious in their worry, her mother enjoying the chaos and laughing silently. Océane decides the best to do is ignore it all and lets her lover climbs into the bed with her, enjoying the butterfly kisses he leaves on her head.

#pierre gasly imagine #pierre gasly fluff #arthur leclerc #arthur leclerc fluff #arthur leclerc imagine #charles leclerc #f1 fluff #f1 imagine

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lovelytsunoda · 9 months

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sweet creature// pato o ward

summary: pato is in a romantic mood and wants to make love to his sweetheart around all of her favourite things.

pairing: pato o ward x female reader!

warnings: smut!! pato being an absolute sweetheart. he fucks her in front of a window so she can watch the sunset but the window doesn’t actually overlook and spots where they can be seen

authors note: why do I keep writing other stuff while the arthur leclerc first time fic rots in my drafts and the last two tina series fics are starting to collect dust-

all was calm and quiet in the reading room as she sat with her book, manicured fingers gently flipping the page before she turned to the end, trying not to read the last sentence as she counted how many pages she had left.

truth be told, the smut scenes in this book had been a little much for her. she loved the story and she loved the characters, but the rough intensity of the sex just wasn’t doing it for her. sure, it still had her clenching her thighs together, but if anyone ever spoke to her in the bedroom the way that the male lead spoke to his girlfriend, she was likely to burst out into tears.

sure, she and her boyfriend had experimented with tons things before and they’d probably had sex on almost every surface of the house, but the one reassuring constant was that pato always spoke to her like she was the most important person in the world, how he looked at her like she’d hung the moon, even when he was balls deep inside of her.

and how he was willing to recreate almost any scene in a romance book, putting his own little flair on every scene they tried.

she really didn’t know how she had gotten this lucky.

she had just turned back to the trials and tribulations of josh chen and jules ambrose when she felt two hands clamp down on her shoulders. she jumped, screaming as the book fell from her hands.

“patricio! what the fuck?”

behind her, pato laughed, coming around the ikea couch to settle in beside her, nuzzling his nose into her chest.

“you’re all sweaty.” she whined, but made no move to push him away. “what have I said about taking a shower when you were done conditioning?”

“I just wanted to see my girl.” pato argued halfheartedly, peppering kisses to her neck while he muttered sweet nothings in spanish. “I love you most.”

“love you too, darling.” she smiled, leaning over to kiss him. “I’ve got a new book scene I wanna try.”

patos eyes lit up, and he sat ramrod straight before he leaned down to pick up the abandoned copy of ‘twisted hate’. “can i tell you something?”

“mhm.” she nodded, fingers playing with the hem of her sundress.

“I’ve read this one already.” pato laughed. “I borrowed a copy from coltons girlfriend.”

she laughed, brushing her hair behind her ear. “honey, why would you do that?”

“because I knew that you’d read the first two and I wanted to know why you loved them so much.”

“so you know what scene I want to try?”

“fuck yeah I do.” he grinned, scooping y/n into his arms as he gets up from the couch, spinning gently in a circle before placing her back on her feet, his hands sliding up the skirt of her dress to grip her ass gently. “lean back against the bookshelf, corazon.” he kissed her softly, his nose tracing a path across her skin until his warm breath touched her ear. “just let me make you feel good.”

she backed towards the bookshelf, pulling pato towards her by the hem of his workout shirt. feeling the shelf hit her back. she leaned up to kiss him, all tongue and teeth as his wandering hands gripped her skin, his tongue exploring her mouth.

“you’re so sexy.” pato muttered, trailing kisses across her collarbone as she moaned gently, resting her head against the ikea shelf, one leg curling around her lovers.

patos hand slipped between her legs, cupping her core in his palm, her breath hitching at the contact.

“I hear you, love. im right here, just relax for me.” pato murmured, hands slipping under the waistband of her floral panties as he sank to his knees.

he looked up at her with his wide, hazel eyes, hair mussed as he began to slowly trail her panties down her legs. the look in his eyes made her heart melt. the look of love, the look he gave her when he was so utterly smitten that he didn’t even have the words to explain it.

she rested one leg over his shoulder, her face flushed as pato threw her panties off to the side, the whole world shrinking down to the point where all that mattered was the two of them. he kissed up her thigh, gently massaging her skin with the hand that was holding her leg in place.

“babe, be careful, what if I lose my balance?” she laughed lightly, taking her fingers through his hair, using the other hand to hike up the skirt of her sundress.

“I’ll catch you before you hit the ground.”he answered matter of factly. “you know I’d never let anything happen to you.”

the moment his tongue touched where she needed him most, every worry or apprehensive thought evaporated. she leaned back against the bookshelf, moaning as her lover moved his tongue in slow, deliberate circles. she felt every sensation in nerves down to her toes.

as he picked up the pace, adjusting his angle to suck her clit into his mouth, she dropped the hem of her dress, nails scraping against particle board as she tried to keep herself steady.

“fuck, right there. god, I love your tongue.”

“it does so many wonderful things, doesn’t it?” pato laughed, pulling away to look up at her with a cheeky grin, his hair messy and staticky from the fabric of her dress.

“yes, now please put it back inside me.”

“you’re cute. I just want to give you things. like kisses and orgasms.” pato hummed, slipping his tongue between her folds, closing his eyes in a moment of bliss as he worked his tongue inside of her.

she moaned, closing her eyes and tilting her head back, gently grinding against patos face, his tongue still working in and out of her as one of his hands came up to hold hers, her fingernails digging into the back of his hand.

“oh, babe, I think I’m close.”

“just let go, darling. I’m right here, I’ve got you.”

pato held her tightly, moving her hips gently against his face as he helped her through her high, evidence of her orgasm coating his face as he let her go, placing her shaky leg back on the ground as he stood up, wiping his face off on the bottom of his workout shirt before kissing her softly.

“I love you.”

“I love you more.” she laughed gently, pressing her body against his. he was hard, his cock poking at her body through his under armour sweats. “look at the sunset. it’s beautiful.”

pato smiled, pulling away from the hug to look out the picture window, where the sky was lit up in pink and orange as the sun began its descent. “it’s not as beautiful as you are.”

“aren’t you romantic.” she laughed, leaning over the back on the couch to watch the sun sink behind the trees, propping up her chin with her hand.

pato hugs her from behind, gently pressing kisses to her shoulders. “I have an idea.” he says in a sing-song tone.

“oh yeah?” she asks, a lilt of nonchalance in her voice as she places one of her hands over his. “what is it?”

“this.” pato says simply, pressing his hard on up against her bare ass, hiking her dress skirt up her waist. “let me make love to you in the sunlight, pretty girl. let me make you feel pretty.”

she giggled, leaning back against him as he started to undo the drawstring on his sweats. “take it away, lover boy.”

“with pleasure.”

he rolled his hips, slipping his cock inside of her in one solid movement. she braved her body against the back of the couch, their bodies illuminated by the setting sun as pato pulled her in by the waist, resting his head on her shoulder.

“fuck, pato, I love your cock.” she moaned, reaching behind her head to tangle her fingers in his hair, bucking her hips back against his.

he kept the gentle, soothing pace, thumbs rubbing circles on her skin as he kissed her neck.

“te amo, querida” pato spoke soft, sucking a hickey into her neck.

they would keep it up until the sun went down, going for another round tangled in the plush blankets on the floor, staring at the stars and laughing about nothing and everything.

and she knew that this was the way she would want it to be forever.

TAGS

@magnummagnussen @libraryofloveletters @thatsdemko @oconso @lorarri @httpiastri @clemswrld @sidcrosbyspuck @scuderiamh @scuderiasundays @silverstonesainz @userlando

#pato o’ward #pato o ward #pato o ward x reader #pato o’ward x reader #indycar x reader #indycar smut #pato o ward x y/n #pato o ward smut #mini fic

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justmeinadaze · 7 months

Text

Children of the Night Part 3 (Steddie X You)

A/N: Happy Friday the 13th <3

Warnings: Dom Daddy Vampire Eddie/Sub Human Steve (cam boys) X Sub Human Fem Reader, SMUT, rough smut (Vamp Eddies needs take over a bit), dirty talk, biting, mentions of blood and draining (duh vampire), aftercare of course, FLUFF they love each other :), ANGST, Protective Stevie always on alert, Reader has nightmares one involving Steve being beaten up and Eddie saving him and another dealing her childhood trauma (child abuse trigger involving mother), Eddie mentions his drunk dad, Both boys give her a run down of events in the show, I think that's all.

Word Count: 4185

Eddie felt it; every punch and kick that was being delivered to the man he loved amped him up more as he hunted for Steve.

“Dude, this isn’t fun if he doesn’t fight back.”

“Maybe fucking the freak made him soft.”

His boyfriend’s anger mixed with his own before more pain followed.

“Oh, I see. That’s your button isn’t it, Harrington? Don’t like people making fun of your freak?”

The scenery blurred around the metalhead as the feelings within him became almost too much.

“Fuck. Dude, did you hear that? I think someone might be—”

The boy’s screams echoed as Eddie tackled him, pinning him to the ground before snapping his neck.

“Holy shit. What the fuck? M-Munson?”

The vampire growled, sprinting behind him, and taking ahold of his throat as his fangs dug into his flesh. As the boy’s blood spilled down his throat, Eddie felt some of his anger calm but a hunger he hadn’t even realized was there took over as he guided his victim to the floor and continued to drink till there was nothing left.

“Eddie?”

“Y/N, WAKE UP!”

Your body shot upright with a start as your panicked eyes met Steve’s who was hovering over you with cross as he pointed it Eddie who was now in the corner of their bedroom.

“Wh-What happened?”

“You were having a nightmare.”

“No.”, the vampire growled. “She keeps accessing my memories. It’s not my fault I can fucking feel them. Jesus, this needs to stop.”

“Eddie, I’m so sorry.”

“You didn’t do anything wrong, honey. His blood just needs to run its course. What was it this time?”, Steve asked as he put the cross away and tenderly pet the back of your head.

“I think people were hurting you. Eddie was trying to find you to protect you. God, Steve, it was so strong, the anger and then…the hunger.”

“Explains why he just tried to bite you again.” His eyes met yours as you shifted you gaze. “I heard him growling in his sleep. He shot up like you did but his eyes were that black color.”

“You know I’m really glad we can all play fucking catch up but I’m still fucking hungry.”, Eddie snarled causing the other man to roll his eyes.

“Let me get him a blood bag.”

The long-haired boy smirked as his black eyes scanned you over.

“Why are you so fucking turned on right now?”

“I didn’t just feel the anger and hunger. You really love him don’t you?”

“Yes.”

“You’d do anything to protect him?”

“Always. Same with you, little one.”

“D-Do you love me to, Eddie?”, you whisper. The vampires smirk stretches a bit more making your body shiver in pleasure at the sight. “Do you love me…Daddy?”

“Here. Drink this now and then tonight when we stream, you can take more from me.” The vampire immediately tears open the bag, chugging it back like a beer. “We may want to get you home, Y/N. We don’t want anything to seem out of the ordinary.”

“Arthur…”

“Eddie took care of him and cleaned your house. Do you feel comfortable going back?”

“Yeah, I just…I don’t want to leave you two.”

“How about I come with you? You can get some things including your phone and then I can bring you back here so you can moderate and be with us after.”

***

“Steve?” He answers with a small hm as he continued look at things around your room. “Why did those boys attack you that night you went missing?”

The man sighs as he turns around to face where you were sitting on your bed as he leans against your dresser.

“Small town, small minded people. After Eddie died, those couple months after I was basically numb. I missed him so much Y/N, you have no idea. People would talk behind my back or make fun of me for caring about the ‘devil worshipping freak’. Usually, I can hold myself together but that day just hit me hard. I…I went to his trailer to drown myself in booze and just hide in those memories.”

“Those kids showed up saying they heard the ‘gay music’ and that wasn’t allowed in Hawkins. I tried to leave but that’s when they started hurting me.”

“Why didn’t you try to defend yourself?”

“How do you know I didn’t?”

“I heard one of the boys say that in Eddie’s memory.”

“Jesus. I didn’t realize he heard any of that. Um, honestly, honey… I kinda hoped they would kill me…so I could be with him…”

Rising from your place on the bed, you embraced him and he heavily exhaled as he did the same, resting his chin on your head.

“When I saw him standing there, I thought I had died. I couldn’t believe he was alive.”

“What was that place he woke up from?”

“That’s a bit harder to explain. The best answer I can give you is another world like ours but darker, eviler. We…we went down there to save lives… Can we talk about this more later? I just…”

“No, no. I understand. I felt it when he woke up, not just what you were experiencing but he was so scared something happened to you when he woke up and everything was quiet. For a moment, he thought…you guys had lost…if that makes sense? But then he heard you talking and playing your song… he cares about you a lot.”

That made him smile before his index finger reached under your chin and tilted your head so you could meet his gaze.

“We care about you a lot to. I meant what I said last night. Ever since we first spoke to you, I knew you were different. He always wanted to come find you and bring you to us. After everything that’s happened, I kind of wish I had let him.”

“I’m sorry for being so much trouble…”

“No! No, shit, that’s not what I meant. I just…if you had been with us you never would have gotten this black eye or shot. I hated seeing you in pain.”

“I liked having you take care of me though.”

His eyes scanned your face as his hand cupped your cheek and his thumb caressed your lips.

“I liked having you take care of me to.”

“Steve.”, you moaned his name breathily making him smile above you.

“I can’t wait for Daddy to have you. Trust me, it’s like nothing you’ve ever experienced.”, he whispered. “He was phenomenal before but now…” Steve pauses, his grin growing when he sees you giggle through your teeth. “What are you laughing at, pretty girl?”

“I guess it’s his blood still but I can feel him. Because we’re turned on, he’s turned on and he’s stroking his cock right now.”

“You can feel that?”

“I’m assuming because I feel how I feel when an orgasm is building in my tummy, you know?”

“You feel like you’re gonna cum, honey? Maybe, I can help.”

Licking your lips, you watch as he slides two of his fingers into his mouth, coating them with his saliva as you unbutton your jeans. His palm glides effortlessly through the waistband of your panties and you groan as he pushes his digits into your entrance.

“Fuck. I just stretched you open and you’re still so fucking tight.”

Knowing you were already close to edge, he pumped his fingers at a fast pace, curling them inside of you as he kissed your forehead. Your hand clung to his wrists as your eyes fluttered shut and your hips rolled against his movements.

“That’s it, baby. Use my fingers. Good girl.”, Steve hummed in your ear in a seductive tone that had you clenching. “Cum, honey. I got you.”

Moaning his name, you came with an intensity you had never felt before, your arms shooting out to wrap around him as you pressed your face into his chest.

“It’s ok, Y/N. You’re alright.”

Sliding his hand out of your pants, he blindly buttoned them as you continued to clutch him tightly.

“Well, this is new for me.”, he chuckles. “I mean, normally I’m in this headspace and Eddie takes care of me.” When your eyes look up to meet his, he feels his cock strain against the denim of his jeans. The innocence that reflected back within them was part of what attracted the vampire to you.

You knew nothing of their world they lived yet you allowed yourself to be vulnerable with them and be who they needed. In return, they kept you safe and looked after you. They cared about you. They…

“Do you love me to, Steve?”

His phone aggressively vibrating cut through the moment and he sighed as he flipped it open reading the text his boyfriend just sent.

“You both need to get back here now. Daddy is hungry.”

############

When you guys got back to their place, Eddie had moved some of the cameras around so you could sit at their desk and work while also not being picked up accidently.

“You know, if ever you want me to join you…”

“I know, sweetheart. I just want to have you first before other people get to see you.”

“Not like they can see too much with this grainy webcam.”, Steve states as he comes into the bedroom and throws off his shirt.

“Aw. Do you want them to see you better, Stevie?”, Eddie teases as he tugs his boyfriend to the edge of the bed where he normally sits when they stream and wraps his arms around his chest.

“It’s nice to be seen.” The man reaches for one of his boyfriend’s hands and playfully bites his palm making you smile as you watch them wondering if this was a little glimpse of what they were like before everything happened.

The clock in the room beeps and they both get more serious as you bring the stream to life. Everything starts off normally as you moderate the chat in front of you. No nonsense today besides people inquiring about the new angle of the cameras. Your eyes start to flutter however when you feel your body begin to tingle like it had at your house.

Turning to face them, nothing is unusual as their lips mingle together but you’re surprised when the vampire grips Steve’s shoulder and effortlessly moves him around till he’s lying on his stomach with his head facing the camera. No…not just facing the camera…facing you.

The vampire whispers something to him and the man’s brown eyes find yours as Eddie trails kiss down his back before roughly lifting his hips higher in the air.

When his boyfriend’s tongue invades his entrance, Steve mewls as he bites his bottom lip. Your hands tremble with need as you slide your shorts and underwear down your legs. Making sure he has a good view, you open your legs for him, displaying your soaking cunt as you run your fingers through your slick.

“Fuck, baby. That’s it.”

Eddie crawled back up his body, sliding his own fingers between the boy’s cheeks causing Steve’s face to scrunch in pleasure.

“Is she as tight as you are, sweetheart? Fuck. I can feel how turned on you both are. It drives me crazy.” Two sets of eyes watch you intensely as you slide your digits into you hole, trying to stifle any noise from leaving your lips as Eddie pulls out his own and runs the tip of his cock between Steve’s ass. “Jesus. Are you ready for me, baby?”

“Yes, Daddy. Please.”, he begged.

Your moans mixed in with theirs as Eddie pushed into him, wrapping his arms around his chest as he laid flat on his back while he thrust his hips.

“That’s my good boy. I love you so much. This perfect ass was made for Daddy.”

Their fingers intertwined as yours thrust into your pussy at a faster pace.

“I’m ready, honey. Mmm—take what you need.”

Eddie grunted as he nodded, tenderly kissing Steve’s neck before his mouth opened wider and his fangs dug into his skin.

You felt it immediately. As soon as his blood touched his lips, that euphoria you felt drinking his own blood coursed through your veins. It was so strong, your body slid to the floor as you tried to ride your own fingers harder to satisfy the feeling to no avail.

Your vision blurred as you watched the bed shake and listened to their moans as Steve practically screamed telling you he came. You waited for the second release but no sound followed.

The wind blew around you as the cameras beeped off, your body was abruptly lifted, and you were tossed next to Steve whose glassy half lidded eyes met yours. You barely had time to register what was happening as your legs your lifted around Eddie’s waist and his cock pushed inside you.

“Eddie!”, you squealed as his hips thrust aggressively into yours hitting that spot inside of you that you couldn’t reach with your fingers.

The vampire growled loudly, baring his fangs as black eyes stared menacingly into yours.

“D-Daddy. I’m sorry. You…just feel so good. Please don’t stop.”

He growled again much lower than before as he continued to pump his cock into you with rough abandon. Eddie’s head fell within the nook of your neck and your fingers tangled in his hair as you held him to you.

“You can—oh my god—you can take from me to, baby. Anything you need.”

“Ed—Eddie…wait…”, Steve tried to get his attention but the man was too far gone and when your head turned to face his he knew it.

“It’s ok, Steve. I’m ok.” Your reached out to hold his hand as he limply scooted forward to kiss your lips.

Your pussy clenched around him as Eddie’s teeth grazed your flesh, wincing when they punctured the skin. The fingers you had in his hair tightened as you felt the blood drain from your body. You had never felt anything as good as this before as your eyes rolled and the tingles within your body amplified to what felt like a burning degree.

“Y-Yes, Daddy. Harder. Please!”

The bed once again began to shake as he did what you asked, rolling his hips aggressively into you as he abused your g-spot over and over. His large palm cupped your cheek as he held your head still, grunting and growling as your walls continued to suck him in.

Your body trembled underneath his as you came harder than you ever had before, your face contorting in pain and pleasure when he released your throat and fucked you through your orgasm. Chasing his own high, he placed his forehead on yours as his hands tenderly petted your head.

“Yes.”, he panted against your lips in a gruff tone. “Yes. I love you, princess.”

You tried to wrap your arms around him but you could barely move. All you were able to do was tilt your head so you could gently kiss him while he thrust into you till you felt him release his seed into your cunt.

“I…I love you to, Eddie.”

Carefully sliding out of you, he quickly disappeared and returned with water, a wash rag, and a snack.

“Steve?”

You rolled to your side, his fingers slightly twitching in your hand to tell you he was listening even though his eyes were closed.

“I love you to.”

The boy smiled drunkenly as Eddie lifted you both up and leaned your backs against the headboard as he cleaned your bodies.

“I love you to, pretty girl. Eddie loves you to even though he won’t admit it.”

“I literally just did, you dork.”

“Hey, hey. Don’t be mean.”, his boyfriend chastised with a smirk.

“Here. You two eat this please.” You and Steve giggled like kids as you took the power bars from his hands and nibbled on the ends. “Shit. I think I’m going to have to give you two a bath because this rag isn’t going to do a damn thing. Do you think you both can walk?”

The human boy tries and immediately falls backwards, his head landing in your lap. As Eddie got up to help him, he paused as he watched you gently run your fingers through his hair as he continued to grin. The vampire sighed in pleasure at your action loving the little things you did to show that you cared. It had been so long since anyone had touched or even talked to them kindly and he loved even more that they were getting to experience things like this again through you.

“Am I in the bathtub already?”

“Jesus, no Steven. You are weirdest inebriated person I have ever meant and you aren’t even drunk or high.” Eddie lifts him into his arms and carries him into the bathroom, leaning him against the wall.

“I am high… on you.” The metalhead rolls his eyes as Steve pokes his nose, trying to hide the smile that wants to push through. He turns with the intention of coming to get you to find that you were already leaning against the other wall of the bathroom.

“I could have carried you. Are you ok?”

“Yeah.”, you sigh as you gesture absently. “Not the first time I’ve had to move during blood loss and it probably won’t be the last.”

The vampire listened to you two talk as he got the bath ready.

“Hey. The last time you were bleeding, you were flat on a table ma’am. No movement required.”

“Hm. Bled a few times growing up. M’mom is in jail remember?” Steve’s eyes became sad as he scanned your face. “Also boyfriends like John. Besides that night, had you ever gotten into a fight, Stevie?”

“Pfft, yeah a few. Once over a girl, another to protect some kids I was looking after…and then some Russian soldiers beat the shit out of me. That was fun.”

You looked at him with confusion as Eddie guided him into the water before coming to do the same with you.

“Yeah, I know. It sounds far-fetched but he’s telling the truth. We started dating a little after that particular incident so yeah.”

Holding your arm, he helps you down and you exhale as you lean your back against Steve’s chest while Eddie sits on the edge of the tub to clean you both.

“What about you?”, you ask.

“Ah, no fights for me, princess. I mean, no fights with people. I tried fighting a hoard of bats but obviously that didn’t end well.”

“And your dad?”

“Um, yeah that never ended well either.” His eyes glazed over a bit as he focused on the task before him but paused when your hand touched his.

“I’m sorry, baby.”

Flashing you a soft smile, he cleared his throat as he rose to his feet.

“Alright, I’m going to go change the sheets. Do you think you two can remain coherent till I come back.”

“Yes, DAD.”, Steve sassed making you giggle as he wrapped his arms around you and pulled you tighter to him.

################

You hide under your dinner table you used to have in your parent’s house when you were little. Your mother is screaming again as she searches for you.

“Where the fuck are you, you ungrateful brat?! Do you really think you’re any better for them? Always causing problems! Trust me, babe, they’d be better off without you.”

You jump when you feel a palm touch your bicep.

“Whoa. Sorry.”, Steve whispers. “I didn’t mean to scare you. What are we hiding from?”

You point towards the kitchen as your mother’s shadow passes along the tablecloth.

“Hey, what did we say, baby girl? You’re safe with us.”, Eddie beamed as he pushed some of your hair back behind your ear.

“But are you safe with me?”

Your eyes flew open as you clutched your chest.

“You know, some people just sleep at night.”, Eddie teases as he fully sits up beside you. “Are you alright?” When you nodded, his palm gently reached up to pet your head. “What were you dreaming about? It felt…sad.”

“You don’t know already?”

“I mean, I know it wasn’t one of my memories because you’ve only been dreaming about things that happened after I changed. What I felt right now…I haven’t felt since I was a little kid and my dad would come home drunk.”

“I was dreaming about my mom. When I was kid I used to hide under the dining room table while her and my dad would fight. That’s where I was with you two and…”

“And what?”

“I’m not putting you two in danger am I? I just…with everything that happened and Steve’s fears of you two needing to run again—”

Eddie silenced you by placing his fingers on your lips, wrapping his arm around your shoulder, and bringing you down to lay with your head on his chest. He sighed before telling you his story of a girl named Chrissy who died violently in his trailer and a town that tried to hunt him down for it claiming he was a devil worshipping freak. He explained about an evil being named Vecna who was actually murdering these people and he, Steve, and some others went down to that scary world to stop him.

Eddie told you about the bats he and his friend Dustin were meant to distract so Steve and his friends could get into a house to destroy this being.

His tone became shakier as he talked about buying more time so they could succeed and the battle he faced when he didn’t run away. The feeling of the bats pinning him to the ground and tearing into his flesh.

“The last thing I thought about was Steve. It was like…a montage of our relationship. I just wanted to go back to how things used to be before the murders when we would lay in bed and talk about leaving our stupid town.”, he heavily exhales, kissing your palm as it reaches up to caress his face.

“After I saved him, Steve told me we needed to run. That they still placed the blame on me even though they couldn’t find me. If they found out I wasn’t dead, bad things would happen. Y/N, after everything we’ve been through, these past two days have been nothing. I know that we’re all safe here but Steve always worried we may need to run again. He lost me once, he says… you’re not putting us in any kind of danger, sweetheart. If anything…now we’re putting you in danger.”

“I’m not afraid of you or things that come with you. I meant what I said. I love you both… I want to help and be there for you two anyway I can.”

Eddie smiled as he kissed your forehead.

“I wasn’t too rough with you was I?”

“No. The biting hurt at first but after…when you started draining me… fuck.”

His chest shook as he laughed making you smile as you held him tighter.

“I guess because you still had my blood inside you, you felt what I feel when I’m fucking him.” Lightly but firmly, Eddie tugged your hair back, placing his lips on yours. “You both feel amazing.”

“How much of Eddie was there? You seemed kind of gone.”

“I was there, sweetheart. The vampire kind of took over a bit but, trust me, I was there.”

Rolling on to his side, he kept his arm under your head as his other hand came up to touch your cheek while his eyes ran along your face.

“Next time, I’ll move a bit slower so I can really watch this beautiful face while my cock is stretching you open. Steve was right, you are tight but you took me so well.”

“Y-You felt good. No one’s ever been that deep before except…”

“Steve?” The vampire grins when you nod. “I know how you feel. The first time we were together, I swore I could feel him everywhere.”

“When did he start calling you Daddy?”

His thumb runs along your bottom lip as his now chocolate-colored irises continue to study you, watching as your chest rises and falls as you breathe nervously.

“A couple of months after we started dating, he said he had a fantasy. Steve always felt like he needed to be in control and just wanted to BE controlled in bed.” As you kiss the pad of his finger, he delicately placed it between your lips, his smile growing when your tongue ran along the flesh. “Is that what you need to, sweetheart? Do you need to be taken care of?”

When you nod your head again, he withdraws his thumb and leans over to passionately kiss your lips. Without releasing his hold on the back of your neck, he pulls away, and grazes his noses along yours, panting against your open mouth.

“Can you say it, baby?”

“I need you to take care of me, Daddy.”

############

@chelebelletx @mandyjo8719 @bimbobaggins69

206 notes · View notes

daxerian · 11 months

Text

Hard times

Charles Leclerc x Reader

Warnings: swearing, kinda toxic relationship, translated french and spanish

Words: 8.6k

A/n: I kinda enjoyed writing this😜

When y/n and Charles broke up in 2022 fans were shocked. They wanted to know what happend between their favourite couple that they have been in love for the whole 7 years they have dated.

When they broke up only Charles posted a story that said "there's no bad blood between us, we broke up in good terms. So please respect the privacy of y/n and our daughters, love Charles" and stuff like that you know? Well y/n didn't post anything because she knew that Charles made that up.

They ended their relationship in a fight. Arguing about the twins and then the breaking point of the relationship between the two happened.

"They've been to the paddock multiple times, I don't get it. Why can't they come now?" Charles spoke rather harshly on y/n, "Charles they've only been to the GP's that are hosted in Europe not America! They are 4 not 10 to spend 14 hours flying to Vegas" y/n only told him the truth and Charles knew that but something just bad just clicked inside of him. "Well if you weren't such a bad mother to them, you would let them come with me" and when that sentence came out of his mouth, he knew he just ended something beautiful.

"Oh" y/n said, of course she was hurt by the man she loved for nearly a decade. "No, Mon Chéri I didn't mean it like that" now feeling guilty he tried to apologize to her but he also knew that he fucked up and she wasn't going to take any apologies, "You call me a bad mother? I gave up my life in Spain just to move here so I could support your career, I left my whole family behind my back just to live with you in Monaco and travel with you so I could always be there for you and you call me like that? The mother of your children? You should be disgusted by yourself Charles" and of course Charles stayed quiet, finding himself crying too but the thing that broke him was when he saw the two little girls listening to their argument in the hallway.

"Oh mes doux anges" (oh my sweet angels) Charles said with hope that they didn't hear a lot, "Papa why is mami screaming?" Stella asked while Anastasia was quiet. "Me and papa were just talking about uhm life!" y/n made an excuse trying to convince the twins that everything is okay. "No you weren't" Ana said, and when she said that it was over because Ana is the quiet twin so when she said that then the explaining had to come.

"Well me and mami had a hard time deciding about something" Charles said, "But why are you crying? And why is mami crying too?" Stella asked. "We didn't agree on the same thing and that made us sad Stelly" y/n answered her eldest daughter. "But you said you left home to be here" Ana said, "Mami said that because she's angry, now come on let's get you both to bed, Il est tard" (it's late) Charles said. "buenas noches mis niñas" (good night my girls).

*next day*

The twins were spending the day with Arthur and Lorenzo so that Charles with y/n can discuss things.

"So what are we going to do?" Charles asked, "The twins heard us fighting, you called me a bad mother, and I don't think we can just say sorry and love eachother again like that argument never happened"

"I said i'm sorry for calling that" Charles started to get a bit angry and y/n didn't know why, he never got mad when people told him the truth so what's happening in his head is a mystery. "You think an apology can fix what you said?" y/n asked, "Why shouldn't it?", "Why shouldn't it? It's like what if I told you that you are a bad father that doesn't try his best, what if I told you your whole career is a joke, what if-" y/n couldn't even finish her sentence because Charles snapped at her, "You know I'm fucking trying to be there for our children" Charles is now raising his voice but for what reason? Y/n doesn't know "But are you trying enough? Were you here when they were sick with an infection? Or when they were crying that they miss you? No! You were away Charles, you didn't even bother to call for 2 weeks" It was now y/n’s turn to raise her voice at him. And Charles knew she was right so he stayed quiet.

"Charles I love you, and I always will. But I don't think this relationship is going anywhere with the arguments we've created over the past months" the anger that was in both of them faded out quicly. "No, please anything but this, y/n think about the twins, I-" Charles couldn't even find the words anymore, he knew he wasn't the greatest fiancé in the world but he tried to be there for her, for their children, for anybody. "It's the best for us, I won't move to Spain because of the children, I will stay here so we can be in contact and they can be with their papa and create memories" y/n said with all the hope that she had left for their relationship.

"And take this" she also added, "Are you sure?" Charles asked and also hoping she would keep the engagment ring he proposed with. "Yes take it Charles, there's no point in keeping it" y/n answered. "Okay, but how are we going to tell the twins" Charles asked rather sadly. "I don't know Charles" they made an eye contant and just like that, they knew exactly what to do.

They had to pretend that they are still together.

It was easy at first, Charles was sleeping in the guest room and y/n in their room, and in the morning Charles went to their bedroom and layed down again because the twins always went to their for the morning cuddles.

But then it came down to the end. Stella found Charles sleeping in the guest room.

Y/n tried to explain but Stella wouldn't listen to her, so she knew she had to tell her the truth. "Stelly me and papa got into difficult situation" and Little Stella was curious why her parents had difficulties between each other so, she answered her mami that it's okay and went to wake up her twin sister.

Later that day when y/n went to buy groceries, the two of them decided to investigate so they simply asked their papa. "Papa?" Ana asked Charles while looking at her twin, "Yes?" Charles answered. "We know you and mami don't love eachother anymore" Ana said and Charles was left speechless.

"What?" Charles asked the 4-year-old, "She said that we know you don't love mami anymore" Stella repeated. "No I love your mami very much" Charles answered trying to make it better. "No, mami told Stella that you-" "Okay stop the investigation and eat your food" Charles quickly ended this conversation.

*a few weeks later*

"Remember to still be kind to mami and then we will see eachother again tomorrow" Charles told the twins after their family time at the yacht. "But we want to see you everyday papa, this is not fair!" Stella basically screamed at her parents, she didn't get it, why were they with mami everyday and why not their papa. "We talked about this Stella, and don't yell at me!" Charles answered her, "But me and Stella want to be with you and mami everyday like before." Ana told Charles and he felt guilty, he felt guilty about that he couldn't save his relationship, and he felt guilty because he felt like he failed as a father.

*4 days later*

"Are you excited to see papa again?" y/n asked her children, "Yes!" both of them answered at the same time. And of course y/n saw how happy they are to finally visit their papa, but y/n couldn't lie and felt that something wrong will happened if they go over to Charles. And she was right.

Y/n knocked on the door and instead of Charles she saw a woman. A significantly younger woman. She looked like a teenager. "Malia!" Ana was happy to see the girl again whilst Stella just looked at her with disgust. "Move Malia, PAPA!"

Stella screamed for her father because she didn't like Malia, she was like evil to her and such an angel to her twin Anastasia. And y/n was curious, she wanted to talk to Charles so she did.

"Charles can we talk?" y/n asked Charles and he instantly understood what she wanted to talk about so he took her to his balcony. "Look I know what you want to talk about, if it's about Malia you can ask" Charles told her but not even making eye contact with her. "How old is she?" "20" Charles answered a bit ashamed. "Look Charles, I can't say anything about who you date but please don't make her think that she can be a new mom for them, please" y/n told him. "I already told her" "I appreciate it Charles."

Even though they didn't made it together as a couple, they will always be soulmates in every single way possible. And will always be parents to their amazing daughters who got them through a lot. They wouldn't trade it for anything. Not even the most expensive diamond, or painting, or anything really. Charles only needed y/n, Stella, and Anastasia. His 3 girls.

A/n: if you get any ideas for stories you can always request them with any driver ❤️ And I hope you enjoyed reading this

#f1 x reader #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc x female reader #charles leclerc x you #formula one x reader #formula 1 x reader #f1 x female reader #f1 x you #f1 imagine #charles leclerc #charles leclerc fluff

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call-sign-shark · 1 year

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I’m listening to Ultraviolence by Lana Del Ray and I can’t shake the feeling of a fic with Arthur based off this song. I feel like it fits him so well! I can just imagine a toxic relationship between him and the reader where he hits her or harms her in some way (intentional or not) but she keeps going back to him

“He hit me and it felt like a kiss..”

Plssss lmao the way this works so well

No need to do anything with it, just wanted to share because I know you’re a slut for Arthur like I am

“Because I know you’re a slut for Arthur” SIS YOU’RE SO RIIIIIGHT. HE’S MY SOFT KITTEN. 😩

Ultraviolence || Dark!Arthur Shelby x Reader

TW: angst ++, abusive husband, toxic relationship, depiction of domestic violence, alcoholism, if you think this trope have a good ending you should not read it, no proof reading: this is raw, unedited and prolly super badly written??

Words: 1k

Each inch gained by the clock’s needle, your heart raced more as if it feared to be pierced by its the sharp steel. Nibbling on your fingers’ skin compulsively, you sat on the large luggage you prepared one hour ago because you knew that when Arthur came home after midnight, he was not the man you fell in love with anymore. His gruff voice, usually lavishing you with the sweetest pet names he could find, would call you deadly nightshade — because when you looked at him with fear and fury in your oh-so- beautiful but teary eyes, it felt like a caustic poison was running through his veins, burning him from within and dissolving his sanity.

The door opened, your soul wept.

“Oi Y/N, where the fook are ye?” The gravel in his tone, who used to make you shiver with desire, sent shivers of fright down your spine. You took a deep breath, struggling to keep composure: this night would be the last you suffered from his violent love. After months of hesitating, coming back to him almost crawling, you decided that this nightmare had to stop. Somehow, you knew you had to flee from his claws before you ended up dead and cold — either by suicide or by his hands.

He stumbled in the living room, an empty bottom of whisky hanging from his hand. His steel blue eyes, half closed due to the amount of alcool he drank and cocaine he snorted, were looking for you, “Bloody hell Y/N, a good wife always welcome her husband when he comes back home. So be a good fookin’ woman and come greet your ol’ Arthur with the warmth he fucking deserve.” He grunted, before his frightening gaze fell on you.

He looked at you, and you could hear the sirens howling in the back of your head.

“What the hell?” He whispered at the sight of your packed stuff, slowly understanding your intentions, “Are you fucking serious?”

“I can’t do this anymore Arthur,” words left your mouth, falling from your quivering lips, “This is going to kill me… I’m sorry.”

“You wanna leave me?” He asked, bewildered. The sound of the bottle shattering on the wooden floor echoed in the living room, answering to the screams of his own heart breaking. You hated yourself at the idea of hurting him but you could not do it anymore, loving him was really hard. At first your thought it would be enough to save him, to heal his soul and mind, but love was not enough— your love was never enough.

“I’m sorry.” You got up and grabbed your luggage, before making your way to the door. Yet, Arthur firmly grabbed your wrist as you passed by, his grip so sharp it bruised your skin almost instantly.

“You’re not going anywhere, love.”

“Let me go. Please Arthur, if you love me you have to let me go.”

“I said you’re not. Going. Any-fookin-where.” He retorted, his hoarse voice growling with more hatred as anger boiled within him.

“Let me go you fucking bastard!” You bursted out, panic overwhelming your aching soul as you felt his nails digging into your skin.

The horrific sound of the blow that followed made the skies shook with sorrow. Pain stung your cheek, its burning sensation spreading on all the left side of your face. You let out a woeful whimper, tears flowing from your eyes almost instantly. He hit you, and it felt like a kiss, because it was his way of loving you when he was drunk.

“YOU AIN’T LEAVING ME, YOU POISON. I’M ARTHUR FUCKING SHELBY RIGHT?” He barked.

His hand grabbed you a second time — but it was not to make you dance anymore, like he used to do when you were kids.

Pain rain down on you,

With his ultraviolence

Ultraviolence.

“I’m … Im so sorry…” Arthur kept saying over and over again, his hands on both side of his head as he pulled his own hair, devastated with the view of crimson stains on your face.

Panicking, he then grabbed your chin and almost suffocated you with his lips, assaulting your bleeding mouth with desperate kisses, “I’m so sorry Y/N, it won’t happen again. I just don’t know what crossed my mind, it wasn’t me… it was the fucking whisky! The bloody snow! I won’t do it again, I swear doll I will never hurt you anymore… I— I love you… God I love you so much I’ll die without you.”

His blue eyes overflowed with tears of gold, like lemonade.

“Arthur… I —“ Words choked in your throat as you saw him cry. The monster had left, leaving him sobbing like a beaten child. He raised your gaze toward yours when you called him, and you knew he was your gentle Arthur again.

But you could not forgive him again and again.

Could you?

He would be the death of you.

“Please, I’ll do anything for you. Please, Y/N.”

The cacophony of your mind almost made you wince, for your thoughts crashed against your skull in a messy bacchanalia. Run away, you had to run away… so why did your body remained petrified? Why did you gently stroke his hair, looking at him, desperately in love?

It was stronger than you, stronger than reason, you hated to see him cry. You despised the way he was hating himself, genuinely guilty.

But you had to go.

To go.

But you stayed.

Don’t beg, stop telling me you love me. Please.

Please I can’t. It’s never enough.

Give me all of that ultraviolence.

“I love you too, Arthur. I love you forever.” Your voice was merely a whisper as warm blood ran from your nostrils, tainting your lips and dying on your chin. Your fingers gently grazed his neck as you knew he loved — all you wanted was to stop his pain. To see him smile with that stupid, irresistible grin that made you fall for him.

“I can’t lose you, Y/N.” His lips laid a gentle kiss on the corner of your mouth, the tip of his tongue tasting the blood. His voice was filled with sincere love, “I’ll change. I swear to God I’ll change for you,” Somehow he really believed in what he said, but the truth was he would never change… And you knew it.

“You won’t lose me — maybe you could — help me putting my stuff back where they belong?” You stuttered, your whole body about to collapse in his arms for it just wanted to feel his touch.

“Of course I’ll do.”

Arthur smiled.

You did too.

But Angels cried,

for they knew that he hurt you and it felt like true love.

Thank you so much for sharing your thoughts with me honey, know that you can make yourself at home in my ask box, especially when it’s about babyboy Arthur.

I love this Lana’s song so much, and I completely understand the vibes you felt. It would suit so well in a Dark!Arthur fic — in fact I loved it so much I could not help but write a little something for ya! Even though I do feel in-character Arthur would be far too terrified to hurt Reader and would not physically harm . Maybe being rougher, bruising her with his grip without doing it on purpose. But he would not hit her (cf: office scene with Linda in S5). Yet — I decided to go dark with this one because, as you said, “he hit me and it felt like a kiss” is just perfect for this sad trope.

#arthur shelby #arthur Shelby x reader #Peaky blinders imagine #peaky blinder #Peaky blinders x reader #Peaky blinder x reader #Tommy Shelby #John Shelby #Michael gray #Alfie Solomon’s #Arthur Shelby angst #peaky blinder imagine #Peaky blinder angst #request

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sixgunluvr · 20 days

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Mature readers only!

Arthur had just returned to camp not long after Charles, Sean, and Javier had arrived.

They had set out to rescue Sean, who had been captured by Pinkertons.

Just seeing Arthur riding into camp was enough to make your core ache for him.

Your heart raced and your mouth went dry as you watched him dismount his horse, his muscular frame making every other man at camp look weak in comparison.

"Evening, darlin'," he said, tipping his hat at you. His voice was deep and rich, like velvet, and you couldn't help but feel a shiver run down your spine in response.

"Arthur," you whispered, your voice barely above a whisper. You couldn't tear your gaze away from him as he strode towards you, a confident smirk on his face.

Your body responded to him instantly, your nipples hardening under your dress and a warmth spreading between your legs.

Without a word, he pulled you close and kissed you roughly, his tongue exploring your mouth and tasting like whiskey and tobacco. His hands roamed over your body, gripping your ass tightly and grinding his hips against yours.

"I missed you," he growled, his voice low and gruff.

You moaned in response, feeling an overwhelming urge to rip off his clothes and have your way with him.

"Looks like we're celebrating Sean's return," he murmured against your lips before capturing them again in a searing kiss. His hands were everywhere, touching every inch of your body, leaving you panting and writhing against him.

You quickly realized that you were not alone in your impassioned embrace, however. You could hear giggles and murmurs coming from one of the nearby tents, and a few of the men had stopped what they were doing to watch you both. You pulled away, feeling suddenly self-conscious.

"Maybe we should go somewhere private," you suggest, your cheeks flushed with embarrassment and arousal.

Arthur's smirk only grows wider as he shakes his head. "Nah, I think I like having an audience," he says, his voice low and dirty.

Before you can protest, Arthur has pinned you against the nearest tent. He's towering over you, his muscular body blocking out the light from the campfire. You can feel the heat radiating off of him, and it's making your head spin.

"I've been thinkin' about this all week," he growls, his green eyes blazing with lust.

"All the dirty things I want to do to you."

He pulls your dress down to reveal your bare breasts, his callused hands tracing the curves of your areolas. His touch sends shockwaves through your body, and you moan loudly, unable to contain yourself.

"That's right, darlin'," he says, biting down on his bottom lip. "I want to hear you scream my name."

He captures your nipple in his mouth and sucks hard, causing you to gasp and writhe against him.

One of his hands moves between your legs, hiking your skirt up to your waist.

His fingers brush against your wetness, and you can't help but push your hips forward, eager for more. He chuckles darkly at your impatience, but you don't care. All you want is to feel him inside you, to lose yourself in the mind-blowing pleasure he always gives you.

Finally, he relents and slides his fingers inside you. You're already soaked, your walls clamping down on him greedily.

His fingers twist and curve inside you, hitting that spot that makes your toes curl. He always knows exactly how to touch you, how to get your body quivering and begging for more.

He hooks his fingers and starts to thrust them in and out, fast and hard. You moan uncontrollably, your legs shaking as he brings you to the brink of orgasm in mere seconds. But before you can tumble over the edge, he stops, leaving you panting and frustrated.

"Not yet, darlin'," he growls, his voice thick with desire. "I want to enjoy every inch of you first."

Taking you by the hand he leads you into his tent , expertly securing it behind him to shield others from seeing the explicit nature of what was to come next.

Once inside, he roughly boxes you in. Pressing you against his makeshift bed as his hands ran over your body.

His rough, calloused hands slid up your waist and over your breasts, his touch sending electric shocks straight to your core. His mouth followed his hands, his teeth scraping against your now hardened nipples, making you gasp in pleasure.

You could feel his erection pressing against your thigh, and you reached down to stroke him through his pants.

He groaned in pleasure, his hands gripping your ass tightly as he ground himself against you.

"Fuck, darlin'. You're gonna be the death of me," he muttered against your skin, his hot breath causing your nipples to tighten even further.

You undid his belt and fly, your hands eager to feel his bare flesh. When you finally freed him, he was impossibly hard, his shaft thick and hot in your hand.

You stroked him from base to tip, marveling at the velvety smoothness of his skin, the rigidness of his cock.

He groaned louder now, his hips rolling up into your fist as you pumped him from root to tip. "Goddamn, darlin'. That feels so fucking good, but I need more."

He pushed you back onto his bed and crawled between your legs, spreading them wide with his powerful thighs.

His mouth descended upon your slick, aching core, his tongue lapping at your folds with a hunger that matched your own.

"Oh God," you moaned, reaching down to tangle your fingers in his hair.

"I need you. I need you inside me."

But Arthur wasn't finished tasting you yet. He teased and tormented your clit with his tongue, alternating between flicking it and sucking it into his mouth. You thrashed your head from side to side, overcome by the intense pleasure coursing through your veins.

"Please, Arthur..." you begged, your voice strained and desperate. Your entire body trembled under the strength of your yearning, your mind clouded with nothing but thoughts of him thrusting inside you.

Animalistic, primal lust consumed you. You wanted him so badly, needed him with an insatiable hunger.

Cruel, tortuous words fell from his lips. "Beg for it," he demanded, his voice low and commanding.

You were beyond reasoning, beyond shame, beyond anything other than the need for release.

You whimpered, pleaded, repeated his name over and over as if it were a litany, a prayer, a desperate cry for salvation.

And still, he tormented you. His tongue swirled and teased, traced patterns and designs on your damp flesh, never quite touching where you wanted him to most.

"Please, Arthur," you gasped, "I can't take it anymore.

At last, he relented. He rose up on his knees, gripped your hips, and positioned himself at your entrance.

For a moment, he stayed there, looking down at you with pure desire and carnal intent in his eyes, letting you feel the heat and hardness of him.

Then, with one swift thrust, he entered you, filling you completely. You cried out in pleasure, your nails digging into his shoulders. He didn't hesitate, didn't give you a chance to adjust. Instead, he set a brutal pace, pounding into you relentlessly, pumping his hips fiercely.

The sound of flesh slapping against flesh filled the tent, accompanied by your muffled cries of ecstasy.

"Fuck, darlin'," he growled, his voice hoarse and strained. "You feel so damn good."

You couldn't speak, could only moan and cry out as he drove deeper, harder, faster. Every thrust hit you right where you needed him to, sending waves of pleasure crashing through you.

You could feel your orgasm building, coiling tightly in the pit of your stomach, ready to explode.

Your breathing came out in ragged gasps as you begged him for release. And with one final, brutal thrust, Arthur sent you flying over the edge.

You screamed his name as wave after wave of pleasure crashed over you, your body quaking and shuddering under his touch. He followed closely behind, his own release triggered by your cries. With a final groan, he collapsed on top of you, his harsh breaths mingling with your own.

"Jesus Christ, darlin'," he panted, sweat dripping from his forehead onto your chest.

You wrapped your arms around his shoulders, pulling him closer. He shifted slightly, rolling onto his side so as not to crush you underneath his weight. Even in his post-orgasmic bliss, he was still careful with your comfort.

You couldn't help but smile at that. Despite his rugged exterior, his vulgar language, and his dangerous life, Arthur was surprisingly gentle when it came to you.

It was as though you brought out a different side of him, one that no one else got to see. You were his woman, his partner, and he treated you with the utmost respect and admiration.

But that didn't mean he wasn't unafraid to get down and dirty when the situation called for it. Like now, for example, as he rolled onto his back and pulled you on top of him, urging you to ride him as he grunted and groaned beneath you.

Your hips moved in rhythm with his, and you threw your head back in sheer abandon as you rode him. The tension in your body built rapidly, and you knew you couldn't hold out much longer.

"Fuck, yes. Just like that, darlin'," Arthur growled, his hands grasping your hips tighter as he guided you up and down his throbbing cock.

You didn't even realize you were swearing now, too, replacing any reservations or inhibitions you once held with a newfound confidence that came with being desired by a man like Arthur.

You rode him harder, your hips bucking wildly as you both approached climax. Your breasts bounced with the force of your movements, and Arthur reached up to squeeze and knead your nipples. The sensation sent electric shockwaves straight down to your core, eliciting a loud, guttural moan from your mouth.

"That's it, darlin'. Let me hear you," he encouraged, his voice strained with pleasure. "Fuck, you're such a good girl.

I want to fuck you until you can't walk straight," Arthur growled, his voice low and gravelly.

His words caused a shiver to run down your spine, and you moaned loudly as you ground your hips against him. Your pussy clenched around him, and you felt him twitch inside you.

"Don't you dare fucking stop," you demanded, your hands gripping his shoulders tightly.

Sweat dripped from your forehead and onto his, and his breathing became heavier and more labored as he thrust into you harder, faster.

His hands gripped your hips painfully, pulling you onto him, desperately seeking his release.

Your climax built inside you once more, starting as a simmering flame in the pit of your stomach before growing into a raging inferno, consuming every fiber of your being.

"Yes, fuck yes!" you screamed as you came, your legs trembling violently as wave after wave of pleasure washed over you.

And just as you thought it couldn't get any better, Arthur's fingers found your clit again, rubbing slow, lazy circles over the sensitive bud as you rode out the rest of your orgasm.

As you came down from your high, you collapsed onto Arthur's sweaty chest, panting and gasping for air.

"Jesus fucking Christ, woman," Arthur muttered, running his fingers through your sweat-dampened hair. "You're gonna be the death of me."

You chuckled softly, peppering his damp chest with kisses.

"Well, I aim to please," you replied between breathless giggles.

You both lay there for a while, basking in the afterglow of your heated encounter. Neither of you spoke, content simply to exist in the comfortable silence between you. The sounds of the camp outside filtered in through the canvas walls of the tent, a constant reminder of the life you both led.

Eventually, Arthur spoke up. "Darlin', you're the best thing that's ever happened to me," he said, his voice soft and sincere.

His words made your heart swell, and you leaned up to press a tender kiss to his lips.

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historia-vitae-magistras · 7 months

Text

Part Eight: Summons

First Installment: Here.

Last Installment: Here.

Current Installment: You are here!

Author's note: Inspired by the 1950s short story "The Man Who Came Early" by Poul Anderson. Red Sail Hall Present Day

“Don’t you dare,”

Arthur’s hand froze over Cromwell’s skull as Rhys slapped his fingers away and down and snatched up bone, gripping the jawless head by the temples and pulling it from reach. Arthur went to take it from him, but they froze as Matthew rolled over from his place and bundled into a quilt. When he didn’t wake, Rhys snapped his gaze back to Arthur, and he found himself being dragged from the study with its electric faux fire and his son draped over the sofa, sleeping like the dead. They were suddenly in the hall, and he found himself pinned against the wall by his brother’s forearm. “You are not waking mother again.”

Arthur thrust the arm away but found he couldn’t move Rhys. He’d always been denser, compact and heavy like a lead ingot. “I don’t need to. I only need the skull and the spring.”‌

“For what? You delusional bastard. Do you fancy you can open a portal?‌ You can barely make a curse box without me, much less this deep in your cups. And you are not sullying her grave with that man’s bones.”

“I have Alfred to consider. Don’t pretend you have the—”

“It’s my name he bears, you bloody bastard. How Saxon do you think Jones is? Hm? All of your children are as much us as they are you. Including Alfred.”‌

“Would you be reasonable?”

“No.” Rhys was very close, a spring force as he stood straight.

“Since when do you—”

“Since you rolled out of a bloody fairy ring and into my lap.” He prodded Arthur towards the stairs. “I am not letting you run off half-cocked because it’s easier to hurl yourself into a void than feel a fucking emotion. This isn’t you tossing yourself into a ship and running; this is a paradigm shift in the universe, you daft cunt.”

“Rhys—”

“May Mother strike me dead before I‌ lose two nephews and a brother at once,” He was very close now, and sometimes ‌Arthur remembered why there was a dragon on every flag his brother used. “You are a grown fucking man with four grown children. Take a fucking avomine, sleep more than thirty seconds, and we’ll make a move in the fucking morning. Go.”‌

Burial Mound, Cumbria The Next Morning

Matthew knows he is dying when his uncle’s arms catch and hold him and he doesn't care. He has bled to death more than once. His shoulder had nearly been torn from his body once; a lobsterback cavalryman had broken an infantry formation he’d been caught in trying to run from the cannon fire. The bare faces of his arm bones saw the sky that day. He never ran away from a fight again. He was a century older when a gaping cavern of flesh appeared where his belly once was. A‌ piece of shrapnel severed his spine and his jugular. And blasted a hole through his front. This is worse. This is much worse, but Alasdair kisses his head, and Matthew stands, blank and unmoving.

He has said goodbye to the two who were once his siblings, and he hopes the squeeze they gave him isn't the last good thing he ever feels. Now he is without them, standing before the ruins of a chapel. Trees soar to the sky, older than most in England, but spaced like the posts of a palisade. He can hear running water and whispers. Aunt Brighid is there. Father asks her something. Softer than he ever does, and she stands tall.

“I‌ wove the spells into his cradle, I‌ will not damn him to a grave so far from home. And the past is another country.”

His father is not often speechless, but the novelty is not enough to stop the bleeding. There is no trace of red, but he wishes it would be over, that it could all seep into the earth and let him go—anything to make the silence end. Even a scream will not pierce it now; it lays so thick over his thoughts. He is dying. Uncle Rhys lights a torch, then two more. Even here, lifting light, Matthew is redundant. He can only follow as his father and uncles follow their sister, lingering behind as she walks ahead. Alasdair, Rhys, and last, Arthur. Perhaps the first time in a thousand years his father has not led. His uncles carve sharp shapes into old indentations softened by exposure. His father cuts his hand and presses blood into the runes until it drips into the furrows and inks their carvings into contrast with the darkness. Matthew cannot read the shapes. His aunt sings, and he does not understand the words. As he always has, he clings to the tree line and watches others do their work. Something in him wants to die. Something in him knows his will, drowning in silence that will not let him hear his own voice anymore.

A woman’s figure appears. His father’s mother, but not his grandmother. Her time is too far gone for him to know her now if he ever did. Matthew’s hands are shaking now. They speak more words he does not understand. The Welsh vowels and little pieces of Scots Gaelic he can hear refuse to make any sense. He knows Gaelic the way he does his French, as natural as breathing, but he cannot put meaning to sound, and nothing makes sense. He wishes he would bleed to death already.

Then, Life.

His world broke open with a song. He doesn’t know which one. Something about a republic and grapes of wrath: the chorus is the laugh of North America, showing teeth and soaring like the sky. Alfred. A‌ branch nearly takes his head off as he smashes through the trees towards the sound. More laughter. His world was born from a bolt of it centuries before. The pool of a spring lap at the stones of the edge, and the water sings in his brother’s voice for a moment before Matthew realizes the sound is below the water. There is no bottom of the pool; the stone edges descend into a black abyss. He would not have understood the depth of it even a moment before Alfred cut himself free from their reality. Kneeling, he touched the edges of the stone and knew the rounded channels locking into place were his uncles doing, the same dry stone construction of a broch.

“Mattie,” Alfred spoke, only barely damped by the water. A week without Alfred and he'd lost more love than Francois had given him in 150 years. Just a thread of it wound around his heart, hearing his name on the piano notes of his brother's laugh and pulled him forward.

He dove.

#hws england #hws canada #my writing || cacoethes scribendi #the dangeld axe to grind: the viking age time travel au

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emeritusemeritus · 2 months

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Hi!! If it’s okay, can I please request a (Fred lives au) Fred Weasley x Muggle!fem!reader where it takes place after the Wizarding War, and Fred is wandering around Muggle London, needing a break from the repairs him and George are making on their shop (that had been badly damaged during the war), wanting fresh air to clear his head. He hears a woman scream, very clearly in danger, and he goes to help her, ending up saving Y/n in a dark alley, him using his powers to do so. Leaving Y/n shook (and still scared about the situation). He makes the bad guys (who are also muggles) forget about him using magic, and while he wishes he didn’t have to make Y/n forget as well, as she’s currently clinging to him in shock after he saved her, he still makes her forget. They run into each other again the next day, Y/n not remembering anything from the night before, and they have a lot of chemistry and start dating, and all is going well until Y/n finds out about the night he made her forget, about magic and wizards, and Y/n is upset that he lied to her about it all? Especially upset that they had met before and upset that he made her forget at all, and Fred tries to explain why he had to make her forget. George ends up playing “Parent Trap” to get the both of them in the same room to reconcile? With a happy ending?

Hi my love, full disclosure: I didn’t go full parent trap as I have something in the works a little similar so I hope this is okay for you! 🖤

Warnings: Brief mentions of assault and attempted SA but only one scene. I’ve added asterisks before and after so you can skip past it if you want to avoid. Lying, violence, deception, George meddles, Fred is a bit of a simp. Fred calls us sweetheart. POV change after the time skip. muggle!Reader. Bit of heartbreak, a bit of breakup and makeup. One sexual reference at the end.

Word count: 3.7k

Little bit of liberty taken with this one as I’ve written that spouses of wizards and witches can visit Diagon alley (similar to parents of muggle born kids) as lost as they are accompanied by magic users.

London was always rather bleak this time of year, no matter where you went. It seemed there were roadworks and building works happening in nearly every neighbourhood, workers mingling with the tourists that found to get their photographs in between the newly erected cones, temporary walkways and fences.

It seemed that it wasn't only the wizarding world that had suffered, though Fred doubted this actually had anything to do with Voldemort. Arthur had a theory that the juggle prime minister had funded an effort to 'clear up' London whilst Diagon Alley underwent extensive repairs as to not alert the muggles to the work, noise and sudden influx of workmen disappearing through the entrances to the Alley. Looking at the work sites all around him, Fred was inclined to believe his initially mad conspiracy.

Diagon Alley had been near decimated in the war with deatheaters looting, emptying and burning down stores for no apparent reason. Half of the shopping district had been abandoned, left to rot, the owners fleeing or captured and the other half was essentially destroyed. Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes had thankfully not fared too badly; it still needed extensive and expensive repairs to the exterior but the inside had been virtually untouched. Fred was eternally thankful of the jinxed he'd put on the premises along with the anti-alohamora charm he'd crafted which had seemed to keep away the deatheaters.

Even though it hadn't fared too badly, he was still exhausted from the repairs. He and George disagreed about what repairs should happen, the priorities and so on, neither if them agreeing if they should improve things or repair them back to the original. Use the full money on repairs or scrimp on the exterior issues and boost for a full restock once they were open. It was a constant battle of wits and opinions, a never ending cycle of unresolved issues and Fred had found that he just had to step out for some fresh air, to clear his head. Discussions around replacing the large figurehead of him and his twin's likeness had been the last straw, pushing him over the edge to the point where he just needed to escape for a bit.

It had fallen dark as he wandered around muggle London, the night time beginning. Due to the building sites and road works littered around, there was virtually no light. Whole clusters of street lamps out of commission with hardly any replacements, leaving this area of London in near darkness. Just as he grumbled to himself about the figurehead, unable to forge it from his mind, a loud, panic filled noise rang out and grabbed his attention. It was a woman screaming, the kind of scream that only happened when you were truly terrified and calling for help.

He knew the sound exactly, having heard it multiple times in the battle. He forced those thoughts out of his head and tried to follow the route that would lead him to where he'd heard the noise, realising he was the only one around to help.

When he ran past a little jitty between two shops, a butchers and a mechanic shop, he froze and retreated upon himself, looking down the dark alley to see a sight that turned his stomach. Three men, all approaching a woman that clearly did not want their company.

One was holding her by the throat, pinning her up against the brick wall whilst one's hand began wandering up her leg, pressing something to her throat with the other hand, something that looked silver and sharp, though Fred couldn't exactly see from his place in the shadows of the alley. The third man was just stood there, evidently the lookout, though he was doing a terrible job, choosing instead to watch the woman who was rightfully beside herself in fear.

He couldn't take three men on at once, not if they had muggle weapons. Fred was far from small but he'd never had to truly work with combative skills or fighting as his wand did most the duelling.

It took leas than twenty seconds before he reacted, fuelled by the woman's desperate whimpers as their hands began to wander, all whist threatening her with the blade.

"Stupify!" Fred said clearly but quietly, aiming directly for the third man, the lookout as he hung back in the shadows. The man flew back and hit his head on one of the big bins outback, rendering him unconscious. The man not holding you hostage with the blade turned in shock at what had just happened to his friend, his twisted and demented face turning towards Fred's direction trying to see if anyone was there. When they didn't see anything, both the men looked at each other and gave a disgusting chuckle at their friends expense before turning back to the woman who was still struggling against them.

Fred honestly didn't know if this would work, but he aimed so carefully at the weapon holding arm and cast a quiet 'expelliarmus,' to hopefully disarm the pathetic excuse of a man. It worked, the knife clattering to the floor some distance away as the blokes argued between one another, that they were messing it all up.

"Stupify," he cast once again on the second man who was trying to search for his knife on the ground as he verbally threatened the woman to stay where she was. The man immediately flies back much like his friend, hitting his head on the same dumpster and falling into a slump beside the first one.

The last remaining man looked on in fear, realising he was next. His hand slipped from the woman's neck as he looked upon the slumped bodies of his friends and realised quickly that he was without a weapon.

Fred took great pleasure in the full body bind he cast upon the man, rendering his completely still and useless on the floor, as if an invisible net had been cast around him, rendering him useless.

Fred stepped out of the shadows then, not yet replacing his wand as he stepped over to the bound man. He didn't know what had come over him but as he looked at the poor woman who was crying and shaking, he felt rage like never before.

His eyes were filled with pure rage, hateful anger filling his body as the man on the floor noticed him, fear filling his eyes at whatever he had done to him.

Fred pushed aside his anger as he turned to you, throwing his jacket over you and offered some calming words which he hoped would help you even slightly. Suddenly, you threw yourself at him and he accepted you into his arms without any thought, trying to calm your frayed nerves as you clung onto his body.

He aimed his wand at the two men who were mostly unconscious, though the first was beginning to come around with a groggy groan. He knew he didn't have time to get you away before he needed to do this and began obliviating the two slumped men.

He then turned to the third who looked utterly terrified at what Fred had done, unable to talk, move or get away from the mad man with a stick of wood.

"I hope this hurts," Fred says dangerously low as he points his wand directly at the man's head, ensuring the tip of the wood was ever so slightly sticking into the flesh of the man's forehead before he obliviates him.

As soon as it's done, he pockets hits wand and turns to face the woman, wrapping her in his arms as her silent cries lessen. She's so cold, so scared, it makes his heart ache. He was only wearing a work uniform from a local pub, evidently walking back home from her shift and it makes him feel even worse when he realises you were just going about your day, completely oblivious and undeserving.

"It'll be okay, you're safe now I promise," he says soothingly, not wanting to touch her outright after what had so nearly happened but still wanting to give her comfort.

"What, what did you do?" She asks with a sniffle, clearly a little afraid of what had happened.

"Better I don't explain," he says, cursing himself for having no other way of protecting you. "Where do you live? I need to know you get home safely."

When she doesn't reply, he realises his mistake.

"Sorry, it's okay not to tell me, I just want you to be safe. Do you have somewhere to go?"

He feels her nod against his shoulder and exhales the breath he hardly realised he'd been holding. He knows what he has to do but as he looks down at her frightened and rather pretty form clinging so desperately to him, he realises how much he doesn't want to. He wants her to forget what happened with the men, knows she needs to forget what she'd seen him do but the idea that she'd forget all about him made him feel disproportionally sad.

He holds his breath as he slowly pulls out his wand and holds it up towards her back, feeling guilty and wrong about what he's doing as he battles his raging inner monologue.

"Obliviate," he says gently, watching as the blue tendrils of the spell erupt and consume her. He has to be quick, pulling his jacket away from her shoulders and stepping away, walking quickly out of the alley. He doesn't want to leave her, his brain fighting every step that he takes but he can't stay, without an excuse as to why he was there.

He considers watching her as she walks home, checking that she made it back okay but he knows that would look worse. He couldn't have her be scared of him.

When he gets back to the shop, almost completely consumed by worry, he ignores George's rant completely, agreeing to whatever his twin wanted. He hardly sleeps that night, worried for her. He knows it's wrong but she was so pretty, so scared, it's like she'd imprinted onto his brain. Maybe he needed to be obliviated to forget her.

The next morning, he's up bright and early having abandoned any chance of sleeping. He remembers the logo on her work uniform and wants to check that she was alright, hoping that she might be there by now. He knows he can't mention that night, or ever meeting before but he can at least try to calm his mind if he saw her alive and well.

He never even made it into the pub, bumping into you on the way there. He smiled widely when he saw no lasting damage, no trauma and that you hadn't gotten frostbite or pneumonia from your extended time in the alley. In the daylight he realised you were absolutely beautiful and he took full advantage of your 'accidental run in', asking you out on the spot.

You thought it was strange that he didn't have a phone, or any real concept of technology but it all became clear six months into your relationship when he revealed his big secret, that he could use magic.

The conversation was approached with caution, having gathered tips from his siblings and his dad on how to proceed. You'd actually taken it surprisingly well, though if course you were shocked and disbelieving at first. It helped that you'd gotten really close with George and that he'd also assured you that they weren't pulling a prank on you. It all took a while to sink in with Fred slowly opening up more and more about his world. There were things you loved about it, and things that you found odd but that was the nature of growing up so differently. You'd met his family and been in complete amazement at their weird and wonderful home and they had been unbelievably warm and welcoming, making you feel like family already. You'd seen the incredible shop he and his brother had opened and had been amazed by everything in there. You'd moved in together, certain that you were endgame for each other. You saw how everybody in the wizarding world loved them, their inventions and it warmed your heart to know that you'd chosen a good guy.

It all came crashing down when you began talking about how you met, one night in your flat over a bottle of wine on your one year anniversary. Naturally, you assumed that it had been a coincidental run in that morning near your work, a fated moment where you met your soulmate. From that moment you just couldn't stop talking, couldn't be apart. Your relationship moved quickly but it felt right in every way, never giving you reason to puse or think twice. You were certain you'd never seen him before; you'd definitely have remembered his fire red hair, wide shoulders, gorgeous towering height and that beautifully mischievous smile. Fred however, had accidentally let it slip that it hadn't been your first encounter really, his eyes widening in panic when your eyes snapped up to his in utter confusion, realising he had said too much.

You managed to extract the truth from him eventually, the whole truth. He'd saved you, but then wiped your memory. You felt dirty, betrayed.

Knowing that those men had had their hands all over you, of what they wanted to do, it made your stomach roil dangerously until you were throwing up your celebratory anniversary meal. You couldn't look Fred in the eye, the strong sense of betrayal making you want to run away from him, feeling like you couldn't trust him at all. Everything was built on a lie, your entire relationship, the home and the life you'd built together, talks of the future.

You left that night to go back to your parents, scrubbing yourself raw in the shower at just how dirty you felt, how wrong you felt in your own skin. It had been nearly a month and you hadn't seen him once. You'd ignored his letters, thankful that he didn't have a phone because you'd be ignoring that too. You'd taken time off work so he couldn't find you there and had openly avoided any place in London that he might think to look for you- especially avoiding anywhere close to Diagon Alley. He'd come in and changed your life completely, given you hope for a wild and adventure filled future and then spoilt it all.

And the worst part is that you couldn't explain to anyone why. You didn't know a single other magical soul who wasn't directly or indirectly related to Fred and you couldn't exactly explain to your muggle friends and family the exact reason that you'd left him. The questioning from your parents was exhausting, wanting to know what happened between you and that 'sweet boy', your parents already considering him their son in law. But you couldn't say anything and so you remained vague, taking their questioning and opinions on the chin, taking the hit for him.

He saved you that night, you reminded yourself. It wasn't as if he was the one that had done you any harm, he'd actually saved you from getting hurt. Logically you knew that he had to wipe your memory, it was in their statue of secrecy, an unspoken code of conduct for the wizarding world. But still, the lingering feeling of betrayal never went away. Your relationship had been a lie, he had been a lie.

It was a Tuesday afternoon when you received a letter by owl that you'd nearly immediately thrown in the bin until you watched the owl fly away, noticing that it was a different colour to the one Fred usually used. You looked at the letter and noticed that it wasn't his writing but rather a smaller, more cursive font that wasn't as heavily scribbled as his was.

George.

You immediately felt guilty, realising that not only had you left Fred that night but you'd also left George in the dust, abandoning him as well. He wrote to say how much he missed you, that he was sorry and that he didn't know. He asked you to meet him at the leaky cauldron on Friday, if you still wanted to be friends, regardless of his brother.

You began to write back only to realise that you'd sent the owl away, that you'd have no chance of getting the message to him. Your only option was to meet him there Friday.

To say you were nervous was an understatement, trying to blend into the background as you walked through the opening of the cauldron, sticking out like a sore thumb amongst the witches and wizards bustling about inside.

"Y/n!" You heard from the side, a little booth that wrapped around a brick pillar off to the side and you smiled when you saw George waving at you. You walked towards him, feeling a little calmer as he pulled you into a brief hug, asking how you were.

"Oh merlin, I left my wallet in my room," he says with a frown, looking at the staircase.

"Room?"

"Yeah, had to do some repairs to the flat so I've been staying here, bastard twin took the room at mums." You try not to react at the mention of his twin but your eye inadvertently flinches, forcing you to look away.

"It's okay I can get them," you began to say only to be cut off by George as he gives you a knowing smirk.

"Oh yeah, got a load of galleons in that bag?"

"Right, wizard money," you say with a frown, not having even considered that. "I might have some left over in here."

"It's okay, why don't we nip up to my room, it's only up there, be back in two minutes. If I leave you alone they might ask you to leave."

The smile on your face that had been there since reuniting with George disappeared the second you stepped into the room and saw a slightly broader version of George sat on the bed. At first you hoped it was just a mirror but when he turned to glare at his brother, you knew it was Fred instantly.

"Really George?" You said in frustration, turning to see him looking at you with a guilty and almost sad expression.

"I'm sorry, I just wanted you two to talk. I can't take his moping anymore," he says, gesturing towards Fred who still gives a thunderous look towards his brother.

"I told you not to get involved!" Fred says loudly towards his twin, the anger evident in his eyes.

"I missed her too," George argues but it's weak under the venomous glare of his twin. "Fine," he relents, feeling the double glare coming from both your and Fred.

"Just let me," he says slowly before quickly opening the door and closing it behind you. You hear the key turning in the lock and bolt to the door, trying to open it. You look to Fred who appears by your side, banging on the door and trying to pry the handle open but it was unless.

"He's jinxed it," he says in annoyance, turning to look for his wand that was on the table but is longe there. "Git's stolen my wand!"

"There aren't any repairs on the flat are there?" You ask, realising he'd fooled you completely.

"I haven't been back since we," he says, all anger dropping from his tense figure as he looks at you briefly before diverting his eyes.

"I meant at the shop, George's flat," you say, feeling a little awkwardly.

You look up at him in confusion when you hear him snort out a laugh. "That was what he told you?"

"How was I meant to know?" You asked sharply, not liking the laugh he'd given you because you fell for his trick.

"No I didn't mean, never mind." he says quickly, defensively before he breaks off his speech mid sentence, sighing and taking a seat on the bed.

It's painfully awkward as you take a seat at the little desk in the corner, Fred sitting on the bed. The room is small, completely taken up by the wooden four poster bed and it leaves little room for you to avoid each other.

"I," Fred says after a while, breaking the tense silence. "I'm so sorry."

Your eyes slowly trail up to him to see him looking at you with wide and emotion filled eyes. "I should have told you, I should have done more so that you knew but I really thought I was doing the right thing."

"You did."

You watch as his eyes bulge at your words, as soon as they sink it. His wide eyes suddenly merge to a look of confusion as he ponders your reply.

"You did do the right thing, at least for the wizarding community. A muggle saw what happened, you had to fix that," you say quietly with a little shrug, looking away from him. "I understand why; I just hate that you hid it from me for so long."

"I know," he replies, "there was just never a right time. I couldn't tell you until you knew about me but by then I was already so in love with you that I couldn't risk losing you so I kept quiet."

You can feel his gaze on you but you don't look at him, worried that if you looked at him now your heart would break all over again. You never expected love to be so complicated, never knew that with great love came great heartbreak.

“I miss you sweetheart.”

Those four simple words broke your resolve completely, shattering whatever resentment you were holding on to completely.

You finally look at him, really look and you can see that he looks tormented, like he’s not been sleeping right. You miss him too; you want your old life back, where you were happy together.

“No more lies,” you say, fixing him with a soft but meaningful glance, laying out your terms.

“No more lies,” he agrees, a hopeful smile tugging at his lips as he watches you slowly stand and make your way over to him, the past forgiven and forgotten.

When George enters the room an hour later, checking on the progress and to see that you were both still alive, he sees a lot more than he bargained for… and certainly more of Fred’s arse than he ever wanted to see.

#emeritusemeritus #emeritusemerituswrites #harry potter #fred weasley #fred weasley x you #fred weasley x reader #fred weasley imagine #fred weasley masterlist #Fred Weasley x muggle!reader #muggle!reader #muggle reader #requests

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justasimp1 · 2 years

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Hope everything is going well with you! I was just wondering if I could request a Five Hargreeves x girlfriend!reader oneshot? Maybe where when everyone gets stranded in Dallas through different years after Five travels back the family and reader back in time? The reader end up getting stranded alone in Dallas and gets pretty much adopted by a gang leader and works for their gang and has developed a father-daughter relationship. After Five travels back to Dallas to stop the second apocalypse and find his family and reader, he goes to the gangs hideout for some reason and the reader spots him and tackles him with all their love and a bunch of kisses cause reader missed him so much! And maybe the gang leader acts protective over reader? Sorry if this is very long, I thought it was a cute idea!!

Five Hargreeves x F! Reader

Mr. Jackson

You could tell you were alone. It was unsettling, unknown fears crawling through the dark to torment your hectic mind. The only thing you could occupy yourself with is training- or what to other people's eyes was reckless fighting.

People from the outskirts of Dallas and North Texas came all the way to see you fight. At first, it made you queasy and skeptical. Up until cheers were blasting in your ears and stacks of money ended in your hand.

You bounced lightly, eyeing your opponent. His arms were long, allowing him to protect his abdomen and face at the same time. He let out a few snarky comments before taking a close swing at your face. "You might wanna close your eyes this is going to hurt, little girl"

You always thought about using your powers in situations like this. You craned your neck to dodge his lanky arm. His smile quickly vanished. As he put his arm back to his side, you extended your leg, swooping his weight from underneath him. His body slammed into the ground, the force making him groan.

You dropped your stance, straddling his wailing form. "Right back at you" You whispered before raising your fist and punching him. The impact made sweat spark at your nape. Blood stained the cloth wrapped around your hand. You slowed your movements when he tapped profoundly at the ground.

More screams echoed around the gym, you could hear the people by the side of the ring cheer (most likely the gamblers). You got off the man, quickly exiting the ring. Your head was starting to hurt, your blinks becoming heavier.

You walked to the locker rooms, escaping the feral yells. You opened your locker, a picture of you and Five hung by a mirror along with group selfies with his siblings. You took a handful of caffeine pills with water. You leaned against the mirror, mumbling quietly.

In the side of your eye, you caught a black figure moving. You watched the mirror closing realizing it was more than one. "Don't be fucking creeps" You grabbed the gun on the top shelf of your locker, turning around to the dim wall. You removed the safety, index finger hovering on the trigger.

"Don't shoot" The middle man held up his hands, emerging from the shadows with two other men holding guns. You furrowed your eyes, staring at the black gun being pointed at you. "My name is Arthur Jackson" The middle man spoke again, he whispered an incoherent phrase making the other two drop their guns.

You paused at the name. "Shouldn't you be collecting money or killing people?" You slightly lowered your gun, watching the well-known gang leader struggle with his cigarette lighter. "I've watched 5 of your fights so far" The cigarette in his mouth muffle his words.

"Are you impressed?" You scoffed, turning back to your locker, and gathering your belongings. "Very much so! I would like to propose a job offer" He spoke with enthusiasm now that the light produced a steady flame. The invisible nicotine swirled into the light.

"Just like every other miserable wealthy man" You murmured, swinging your bag over your shoulders. "I can grant you protection, money, and...a home" His eyes drifted to you. Everyone else only offered vast amounts of dollars, your audience was growing as so was their thirst for blood, and motel beds made your spine ache.

"Fuck it" You shrugged, crossing your arms. You took a heart-shaped picture of Five from your locker, keeping it in your pocket, before closing the locker. Arthur smiled, walking back to the emergency exit, he held the door open for you. "If you try anything weird I will kill you" You stopped walking and narrowed your eyes at him.

"You're feisty for a kid" He pushed you by the head towards a glinting dark car. "I'm not a kid" "You act like one" You almost felt regret for saying yes because if you were living with this erking nonsense you were going to suffocate him in his sleep.

[𝟽 𝚆𝚎𝚎𝚔𝚜 𝙻𝚊𝚝𝚎𝚛]

"Shouldn't you be training" Arthur crossed his arms, his eyes flickering up from his paperwork. "Shouldn't you be in a nursing home" You peered over his desk, scanning the contents of the papers. He faked a laugh, taking a sip of his cup.

The liquid in the glass was tinted with brown, you could almost smell the bitter alcohol. "I got bored and bothering you is better than training" You grabbed a stack of papers, sitting in the leather chair in front of his desk.

You mocked his movements, biting back a laugh. "What do you want, Y/N?" He groaned, setting his papers back on the desk. "I'm bored" You mocked his deep voice, tossing your stack of papers back onto the desk.

He sighed sitting up, grabbing his jacket from a dark brown wooden rack. "Where to, then?" He reached into his coat pocket, fiddling with his cigarette and lighter. "Shopping?" You hummed, following behind him as he exited his office.

"Too risky, anyone can recognize you. Ask my men to buy whatever you want" When he spoke, white smoke churned into the air. You rolled your eyes, looking at the cream-colored hallway. "Let's do the movies, again?" He turned back at you with a smirk.

"Last time, one of the workers gave me attitude so you bought the whole theater just to fire them" You shook your head, cringing from embarrassment. "Does it matter if someone sees me in public?" You muttered.

Arthur paused, turning around to give you a dissatisfied look. You didn't wait for him to continue walking. As you near the end of the hallway you could hear stern voices. You peaked around the corner.

A group of Arthur's men was surrounded by the front door. "Who are you?" A series of guns cocked. "If I'm correct, the fighter Y/N L/N lives here?" The voice pulled on a nerve, making you want to get closer. Arthur put a hand on your shoulder. "Stay here"

Before you could object, he was already walking towards the front door. You strained to hear what Arthur was saying. His men tense when he stepped forward, some of them shuffling out of the way. You took your chance to catch a glimpse of the intruder.

Shock engulfed your body, your jaw dropped, and your eyes widened. You wormed your way through the tough bodies. A smile tugged on Five's lips when he saw you. "Missed me?" His voice was caught in his throat. You walked up to him, examining his face.

A stinging sensation filled your palm, in a blink, you slapped Five across the face. His jaw tensed, a red print appearing on his cheek. You wrapped your arms around him, burying your face in his neck. Five hugged you back, taking a deep breath of your scent.

"Yeah, I have" You spoke breathlessly, closing your eyes to bask in the euphoria. Five rubbed his hand down, resting it on the small of your back. You kissed around his face, covering every inch of his face in your love. A thick hand gripped one of your arms, yanking you away from Five. "Who are you?" Arthur narrowed his eyes, the point of his gun aiming directly at Five's head.

"Five Hargreeves" Five offered his hand but Arthur's grip on the gun didn't falter. "How do you know him?" He turned his fierce gaze to you. You awkwardly laughed, pushing the barrel of his gun down.

"We're kind of...dating" You don't know why you were so anxious to tell Arthur. He was family and he treated you as such. You chewed on your bottom lip, searching his eyes for approval. "Interesting..." He shooed his men away, taking a long drag of his cigarette.

"Nice to meet you Mr..?" "Arthur Jackson" Arthur slipped his gun back inside his jacket's inner pocket. "Thanks for taking care of my dear Y/N" Five looked at you grinning. You wanted to laugh at the weird lovely feeling blossoming but you watched intensely at Arthur's actions, afraid he would put a bullet in Five's skull.

"Yours? Do you like taking ownership of women? Are you that insecure that you need to-" "It's a joke" You cut Arthur off before he could start attacking Five. You squeezed your sweaty hands against the fabric of your pants.

"Do you drink alcohol, Five?" "If it's needed" "Do you smoke?" "Rarely" "Are you religious?" "Can't specify" Five quirked a brow. "What do you do for work?" "I...-uh- help or at least try to help people" "You're a vigilante?" "Something like that" Five shrugged, maintaining eye contact with Arthur.

He was under a test and so far he was doing well- hopefully.

"What are your parents like?" "Well my father is insane but my mother is kind" "What's with your name?" "It just stuck, I guess..." "Where do you see yourself in 3 years?" "Hopefully alive and relaxing" Arthur released his death stare from Five. "Oh and....do you like taking ownership of women?" "Not exactly"

Arthur mumbled to himself like he was calculating the test answers. You found yourself looking between both guys, picking at your cuticles. "Eh," Arthur shrugged, walking away. "Eh?! Eh, what? Aren't you going to tell me what you think?" You rushed after him, your steps close to his heels. He turned around, blowing the rest of his cigarette vapor up.

"You don't need my permission to date" "So what was up with all the questions?" You crossed your arms. "Just making sure he wasn't a weirdo" Arthur looked off to the side, hiding his lying expression. "Can he stay here for a bit?" "I don't care" Arthur mumbled, side-eyeing Five.

You motioned for Five to come over. He hesitantly walked over. You held his hand tightly. "We will be in my room" You began guiding Five down a hallway. "Ok" Arthur bit his tongue for saying something else.

Halfway through you dropped Five's hand, running back to Arthur. You hugged him, his voice dropped low to a whisper. "Keep the door open, eh?" You nodded in response, a big smile painting over your mouth.

"Whatever you say, old man" You snickered running back to Five before Arthur could scold you.

Masterlist

#fluff #fanfic #x reader #number five x reader #five x reader #five hargreeves x reader #five hargreves fluff #five hargreeves #five hargreaves x reader #five hargreeves fluff #umbrella academy #the umbrella academy #the unbrella academy #umbrella academy fluff #umbrella academy x reader

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yanderepuck · 4 months

Note

OMG I DIDNT REALIZE THAT U DID LIKE. SELF HARM COMFORT FICS I JUST READ YOUR ARTHUR ONE ITS SO GOOD!!!! IIF YOU DONT MINDD could you do likee MC asking one of the guys to kill them..?! I'm curious abt what certain reactions would be!! uhmm you can choose which character to do but preferably leo, arthur, or theo? :3 TYSMM

I'll do lil headcanons of the the three.

THAT BEING SAID!!!! YOU READ THE ASK!!! YOU KNOW WHAT IS COMING. IF YOU DON'T LIKE ANGST OR DON'T WANT TO BE TRIGGERED THEN DO NOT READ THIS POST. I ALWAYS ASK FOR YOU GUYS TO INTERACT IWHT MY POSTS BUT I UNDERSTAND IF YOU CAN'T WITH THESE ONES. BUT EVERY COMMENT IS APPRECIATED

Leonardo

He looks at you after he heard those words. Did he hear you right? Did he just hear you ask for him to kill you? So many thoughts were going through his head and he wasn't sure which one to focus on. This man has a fear of harming you. Yes he won't bite you but that doesn't mean he wants you to die.

You are sitting on the bed crying. You have been in a depression pit for a little over a month now. You can't find motivation to do anything. It might sound selfish, but he would be able to do it so easily.

"Cara mia..." he finally snaps out of his thoughts and pulls you into his lap. There's no chance of getting out of his grasp. You cry louder into his chest. He starts to rub your back, feeling tears form at the corner of his eyes. His voice is shaky but he forces it out. "I...I could never. I love you."

You clutch onto his shirt, just crying harder. Being alive hurts so much. Feeling nothing would be better at this point than constantly thinking of killing yourself. If you could just stop thinking it would help so much.

"I'll help you get through this. Don't worry," he talks softly, trying not to cry too much himself.

Arthur

He freezes at those words. Hes been trained not to freeze in these conditions but how could he not when it's someone he loves.

You're sitting on the edge of his bed, crying. He just finished bandaging up your arm after you just tried to do it yourself. Did you really just say what he thinks you said. Your sobbing just gets harder. Your face is soaked, tears running down your chin and dropping off onto Arthur's hand.

"Love...I..I could never," he reaches up and holds your head between his hands, not caring how wet they get from tears. You didn't dare to move. You didn't deserve his touch but you couldn't muster the energy to move. "I love you-"

"Y-you said- you said you would do a-anything for me!" You half scream half sob. Was he just lying? He said anything.

Arthur gets on the bed with you, getting you to lay down with him. He wraps you in his arms and plays with the ends of your hair. Your cries don't stop. You want to push him away. You want to say horrible things. But you can only cry.

"Shh. Relax, love," he talks softly, holding back tears of his own the best he can. He's not even worried about the blood all over you and him. You keep your arm close to your chest, wanting to keep some distance between the two of you. You don't deserve to be held.

He kisses the top of your head. He thinks back to when he worked as a doctor and how he would help his patients. "Why don't I tell you a story?"

Theo

He blacked out for a moment. Kill you? No no. This couldn't be happening. The two people he loves the most are both-

He snaps out of it and quickly wipes the tears from your face. "Hondj- Liefje..I could never," he brushes the hair out of your face. His touch is soft and gentle. He doesn't take his eyes off yours.

Your eyes seem so lifeless, like there's no light behind them. He's seen this look plenty of times before and he never thought he would see it on you.

"T-Theo pl-please," you plead through your tears. "It hurts. I hurt so much," he's strong. He could make it quick and painless. He would barely have to try.

He's desperately trying to find the right words to say. "I-I can't" tears form at the corners of his eyes. "You can hate me if you want but I could never hurt you. I love you."

You can't look him in the eye. You're too.. embarrassed? No. You're scared. Scared to see the look on his face.

"Come here, Liefje," he pulls you into his body. Not caring how wet you get his clothes. He's not letting you go.

#SO SO SO SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG #i wrote leonardos part and saved it and then tumblr wouldn't let me edit it until a few days ago #ikevamp #ikemen vampire #ikevamp leonardo #ikevamp arthur #ikevamp theo #angst #tw #tw suicide #tw suicide mention #tw self harn

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agoldengalaxy · 4 months

Text

It Takes a Village

read on Ao3

words: 3812

Arthur Morgan returns from being held captive by the O'Driscolls, but he's nearly dead. Thankfully, he's very well cared for.

The world spins in circles as Arthur forces himself to sit up, holding weakly onto the reins of his horse. He isn’t quite sure how long he’s been riding. It feels like hours and minutes simultaneously. His vision is going in and out, and he can’t quite tell if it’s sunrise or sunset. Muted colors swirl in the sky, bouncing off of dew-coated grass.

The trees suddenly begin to look vaguely familiar, but it’s too blurry to know for sure. Then, the smell of whiskey greets his nose, and muffled exclamations fill the air. His horse stops without him telling it to, and he knows he needs to get down. Instead of stepping off gracefully like his brain tells him, he falls to the rocky ground. His entire body burns and he has to fight the urge to close his eyes, knowing he may not open them again if he does.

“Arthur!” A blurry silhouette stands over him. Then another, then another. Mary-Beth, Karen, then Dutch. He can’t make out his face, but he knows that voice anywhere.

“I told you it was a set-up, Dutch,” Arthur groans, feeling like ‘I-told-you-so’ is all he can think right now.

Much to his surprise, Dutch doesn’t make any kind of smart comment. “My boy…my dear boy, what?”

Had Dutch not even noticed he was gone? Arthur’s tongue feels numb, like dead weight in his mouth. “They got me, but I got away…”

“Yes, that you did...” Dutch sounds like he’s underwater, but Arthur feels his cool, calloused hand beneath his head, cradling it gently as he shouts for Miss Grimshaw. He can’t concentrate on the noise anymore, but a couple people pick him up, making his body scream in agony until somehow, he makes it to his bed.

He blinks hard, wondering for a moment if Dutch would sit with him, but instead he watches him direct Susan to the stool nearby. “You’ll be okay, Mr. Morgan,” she says softly, kindness protruding through her normally hardened exterior. “You’re home.”

She gently takes his hand, and he lets her, not only because his arm feels like jelly and he can’t move it, but because he isn’t used to this tenderness. He thinks he likes it. She’s always been good to him, but he doesn’t think he’s ever seen that look of concern in her eyes before.

“Thank you…Miss Grimshaw,” he manages, somehow. He blinks, and for a moment, she reminds him of his mother, doting on him after coming down with some illness when he was small. A sense of calm washes over him as he feels her squeeze his hand gently, letting himself slip into unconsciousness.

***

“- just don’t know what you want from me, Hosea. He’s here now, isn’t he?”

“That ain’t the point and you know it, Dutch.” When one of them sighs, Arthur manages to squint, seeing blurry silhouettes standing beside a nearby tent. The voices sound further away. Hosea continues, gesturing. “Look at him. That’s our boy, but he ain’t small anymore and he ain’t stupid. If he has concerns, you should listen. If I have concerns... Any day could be our last but I’ll be damned if -” He cuts himself off, his breath trembling. Dutch places a hand on his shoulder while he continues. “I don’t want Arthur to go before me. I don’t think I could bear it.”

A quiet breeze blows by. Dutch’s voice hardens. “You won’t have to,” he promises, both silhouettes pressed carefully together in an embrace. “We…all of us, including you, and Arthur, are gonna be fine. I’m figuring it out, just like I always do.”

Arthur doesn’t hear Hosea’s response.

***

Deer rush by in the forest. Isaac and Eliza call to him. Mary is there in the distance but she disappears in a wisp of smoke, her father shouting profanities. Jenny and Mac scream. Blood soaks the ground. Arthur can’t breathe.

“Easy, Arthur, easy. You’re safe. I’m right here with you.” A voice cuts through. Arthur gasps and latches on. He’s dreaming, he knows he’s dreaming. “That’s it. Breathe, my boy.”

“H-Hosea,” he wheezes. Pain spreads like a spider’s web from his chest down to every limb. He arches his back and grunts, wanting it to stop - both the pain and the memories. He continues while the older man calls for Reverend Swanson. “Hosea, I can’t…I can’t open m’eyes…”

There’s the sound of water droplets falling into a bucket, and a cool press is put on his forehead. “You’re gonna be okay,” Hosea continues, clearly trying to keep his voice calm, the way he always does. “It’s a fever…you’re exhausted. You just need some more rest.” The cool press gives him some semblance of relief, and he tries to focus on breathing. “Here, Arthur. Drink.” A bottle is put to his lips. Shakily, he manages to swallow some of it - whiskey. The burning pain is replaced by a familiar burn instead.

Arthur can feel himself breathing a little easier. He tries to relax, finally managing to open his eyes. Hosea swims into view above him, concern plastered all over his face as he tries to hide it with a smile. He’s cradling his head gently, and Arthur leans into the touch, coughing a little. “Thank you.”

“Don’t mention it. Save your strength, son.” Hosea’s thumb gently strokes his cheek. “They really did a number on you…”

Arthur’s eyelids flutter. “How bad is it?”

With his other hand, Hosea gently moves his hair off of his face. “Not bad. You’ll be right as rain real soon. For now, just relax.” A word gurgles in Arthur’s throat. Hosea leans a little closer. “What was that?”

Arthur winces, leaning further into Hosea’s touch. He feels absolutely pathetic, like a child; in fact, he remembers being a kid, asking Hosea to stay after a nightmare, and here he is again, driving the dreams away like a hero. “Stay with me. Please.”

Hosea seems surprised by the request, but he smiles a mere second later. “Of course, dear boy. Of course.” Softly, he begins singing some lullaby, and Arthur feels the pain dull, at least enough that when he closes his eyes this time, he doesn’t see anything behind them at all.

***

The sound of a crackling fire slowly reaches Arthur’s ears. Instead of the burning pain he’d started to become accustomed to, it’s a dull throb, and it seems more manageable. Slowly, he opens his eyes, greeted by the roof of his tent.

His head is pounding, but he manages to turn it slightly to look out. To his surprise, in the stool right next to him is Lenny, and even more surprisingly, he’s asleep, his head in his arms against Arthur’s bedroll.

Arthur’s heart warms. He’s always taken a liking to this kid, and it’s nice to know that the feeling is mutual. A quiet clearing of the throat takes his eyes off of him. Standing against one of the trees is Kieran, eyes seemingly bright in the night’s darkness.

“He’s been by your side for quite some time now,” he says quietly. “You’re really cared for, y’know?”

Kieran looks uncomfortable as usual, so Arthur just nods. “I’m…very lucky.”

“I’m real glad you’re okay.” Kieran sounds genuine, the most genuine he’s ever heard, which makes Arthur chuckle quietly.

“You’re a good kid, Kieran,” he replies, his voice low and husky. “I’m glad you’re here. Sorry I was so rough on ya in the beginnin’.”

Nearly tripping over himself, Kieran’s eyes widen. “O-Oh, no! No, it’s okay!” If it wasn’t so dark, Arthur was sure he’d see him blush. “You was just doin’ what you thought was right…” he clears his throat, pushing off of the tree. “I should let you get some rest. Night, Arthur.”

Arthur smiles slightly. “G’night. Get some rest too, ya hear?” The boy nods, then scurries off toward his tent. Arthur watches him go, then turns his gaze to Lenny.

Even in the dark, he can see his peaceful face, reminding him just how young he actually is. He’d only been with the gang for a little while, but Arthur had really grown fond of him. He’s torn for a moment, not wanting to wake him up, but also wanting him to have an actual good night’s sleep in bed.

“Lenny,” he says softly, reaching out to gently place a hand on Lenny’s head. “You’re gonna hurt your neck like that, son.”

Lenny scrunches his nose up for a moment, like he’s holding onto the last bit of sleep before he recognizes the voice. His eyelids flutter open. “Arthur…? Hey, you’re awake!” A wide grin spreads across his face as he sits up, quickly scooching the stool closer. “How’re you feeling?”

He can’t help but chuckle through a cough. “I’m fine, I’m fine. What’re you doin’ here instead of in bed?”

Lenny’s face falls. “I…I been real worried about you, is all. You been asleep for three days, y’know.”

That sentence almost knocks the wind out of him. “Three days?” he repeats, trying to wrap his head around it.

“Yeah, so, all of us been takin’ turns sittin’ with you ‘til you get better. I…didn’t realize how tired I was, I guess…”

Arthur closes his eyes for a moment, deciding not to think about how bad of a shape he must be in. Instead, he looks toward the other, clearing his throat. “Well…thank you, Lenny. For keepin’ me company. It was good to wake up to a friendly face.”

The boy smiles, and Arthur feels proud to be the one to have caused it. “Anytime. Guess anything beats wakin’ up in jail, huh?”

“Ugh, don’t remind me. I’ll start yellin’ your name again.”

“Please don’t.”

Grinning, Arthur reaches up, weakly patting Lenny’s arm. “Alright then. You head on to bed now.”

“What? But - ”

“No buts, son. It’s late and you need real rest or you’ll be useless in the mornin’.” He doesn’t necessarily want to send him away, but for his own good, he knows he has to. “Go on, get. I’m fine.”

Lenny still seems unsure, but he stands up slowly, knowing that even in this state, he wouldn’t win an argument against him. “You better holler if you need anythin’.”

“I will, I will.”

Arthur watches him go, then exhales slowly. The camp is quiet. Everyone is safe. He listens to the crackle of the fire until his eyes slip closed again.

***

When he wakes again, it’s light out. He can’t be sure if it’s only been a few hours or if it’s been days, but he feels a little better. Sitting in the stool this time is Abigail, and she lights up when they lock eyes. “Good mornin’, Arthur! How’re you feelin’?”

“Mornin’,” he grunts, his voice hoarse and thick with sleep. Now that his body isn’t burning, he’s beginning to feel sore with all this lying around. “Fine, fine. Wishin’ I wasn’t stuck here.”

“I know, I know. But your wound’s lookin’ better already. Just a bit longer and you’ll be up in no time.”

“Sure.”

Abigail seems to want to say something more, perhaps sensing his frustration, but stops herself. Instead, she seems to remember something. “Oh! I nearly forgot, Jack had somethin’ for you but he wanted to wait ‘til you were up. Jack! Oh, where did that boy go…?” Huffing a sigh, she stands up and smooths out her dress. “I’ll be right back, Arthur. Let me go check on him.”

As she wanders off toward her tent, he lifts a hand in goodbye, then exhales slowly. How long has it truly been since he returned from the O’Driscolls’ camp? How much time has he wasted just lying here? Glancing down at himself, he places both elbows on the bed, moving to push himself up when a voice by the tree stops him.

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you.”

Arthur throws his head back for a moment, annoyed by both the voice and the fact that he was probably right. He sighs loudly. “Here to make fun of me, Marston?”

John, leaning against a nearby tree, scoffs softly. “Just ‘cause you teased me when I was recoverin’ don’t mean I’m gonna do the same to you.”

“Then you’re a fool. I deserve it, don’t I?”

“Maybe.” Slowly, John sits in the stool Abigail had just recently occupied. “But when I’m a fool, you always steer me right.”

Arthur eyes him for a moment, slowly letting himself lay back down. “…Why’d you leave, John?” He knows he’s being childish, he knows that after all this he should just forgive John like everyone else, but the wounds still feel so fresh. They’d been raised together. They were taught the same values, so why did John forget them?

Leaning his elbows on his knees, John sighs, looking away. “…Can’t even remember now. I was stupid. I was a fool.”

“I coulda told you that,” he scoffs in return, but it turns into a cough. His throat burns as he tries to ask for water, but all that comes out is a strangled noise.

John is by his side in an instant, gently supporting his head upward to place a canteen to his lips. Arthur drinks like he hasn’t in days, and honestly, he’s sure he hasn’t. The situation isn’t lost on him, either - he doesn’t think John has ever been so gentle before, and it’s after Arthur had just insulted him. Perhaps his kid brother is still in there, somewhere. Perhaps that’s why he’s been so hard on him.

Trying to catch his breath, Arthur puts his head back on his pillow while John leans back to close the canteen, trying not to smile. “Feel better?”

“Shut up.” Once he begins to breathe easier, he glances toward John again, groaning internally. There isn’t even any trace of scorn on John’s face - only relief. “Thanks, Marston.”

“‘Course.”

The grass crunches nearby with two sets of fast-moving feet. “I know you’re excited, Jack, but please be careful. He’s still hurt real bad.”

“I know, Momma!”

Jack and Abigail appear beside John. The two exchange a look, and Abigail breaks eye contact first, making John stand up wordlessly. She takes the stool without so much as another glance his way, pulling Jack up onto her lap. The boy is beaming, so bright Arthur thinks it could rival the sun. “Hey, Jack. Whatcha got there?”

“Uncle Arthur, I’m so glad you’re awake!” he exclaims, holding something up. “I made you this spur out of flowers I found near the stream.” It’s a small blob of a thing, bright yellow flowers all tied together and vaguely shaped like a spur. “I know you can’t use it for real, but I thought it might make you feel better…”

“Ain’t he amazin’?” Abigail gushes.

Arthur finds himself oddly touched. He cracks a smile, gently taking the flowers from the boy to inspect it. “Now this, this is really somethin’, Jack. Thank you very much, it’s beautiful. Hey, would you do me a favor?” Lighting up, Jack nods emphatically, and the man continues. “Put this in my journal over there. I don’t wanna accidentally squish it while I’m layin’ here.”

“Okay!” Jack climbs down off of his mother’s lap, carefully taking the spur from Arthur and placing it gently into the pages of his journal. “Did you like it, Uncle Arthur?”

“I loved it, son,” he assures him as he gets back into Abigail's lap. Reaching over, he gently pats the top of Jack’s head. “You got a real talent, there.”

Jack smiles, pulling a book from his back pocket. “Would you like to hear a story?”

“Sure.”

The boy’s quiet voice spins tales of romance and wonder, and before long Arthur’s eyelids grow heavy. He doesn’t fight it.

***

Birds tweet quietly, zipping in and out through the trees. Arthur groans softly, wondering when it’ll end, when he’ll be able to do anything other than lay here. A gentle hand finds its way onto his shoulder.

“Easy, now. You’re alright.”

Slowly, Arthur opens his eyes. “Charles?”

“Yes, that’s right. I’m here. How are you feeling?” Charles is sitting in the stool beside him, his hand still on his shoulder, gentle and grounding.

Through a cough, Arthur says, “Better, I think.” He knows better than to completely lie to Charles - after all, he’s always able to see through him. “Feelin’…Feelin’ pretty useless, to be honest with you.”

“I know how it is,” he responds gently, “but you get your strength back little by little every day.”

“How is everyone?”

Charles looks away, but Arthur swears he can see the hint of a smile on his face. It seems like he almost wants to tease him, but he decides against it. “Everyone’s fine. Javier, Micah, and Bill have been on a few jobs. I’ve done some hunting. It ain’t the same without you, though.”

“Eh, you’re the one who’s good at it. I’m always just along for the ride,” he chuckles.

“You’ve improved with your bow a lot, though.”

He watches Charles for a moment, wondering if he’d gotten any sleep recently. He looks tired, but he always does. “Would you…do me a favor, Charles?”

“Anything.”

Arthur sighs. It’s something stupid, something he wouldn’t dare ask anyone else, but Charles is special. Charles wouldn’t judge him. Charles would do anything for him. He was special.

“Help me shave.”

For a moment, there’s only the sound of tweeting birds. Charles seems taken aback, but before Arthur can even regret asking, he reaches for the oil and silver razor hesitantly, holding them in both hands. “Are you certain? I don’t want to hurt you.”

“You’re the only one I trust for this,” he assures him, moving to push himself up. This time when he does it, it doesn’t hurt as much, and he leans back heavily. “I don’t think I can do it myself right now. Please, Charles.”

Charles sighs softly, then scoots his stool a little closer. “…Okay. Try to stay still.” He places the razor down, pouring some of the oil into his hands. He rubs them together, then gently rubs them into Arthur’s beard. “I didn’t think this was how my morning was going to go.”

Arthur chuckles, watching the lines form along Charles’ brow as he concentrates. “Me neither, but I also wasn’t expectin’ to be this beat up.”

“I’m shocked you managed to get out of there,” Charles admits, wiping his hands on the nearby towel. “But then, if anyone could, it’d be you, Arthur.” He picks up the razor, steadying his hand, and moves it up to Arthur’s chin.

It’s gentle in a way that surprises him. With a tool this sharp, Charles manages to trim down the beard without so much as knicking Arthur at all. He doesn’t want to break his concentration, so he just watches, watches him focus, wondering how they’d gotten so lucky to find Charles a few months ago. Arthur doesn’t think he’s ever found a man quite as talented, quite as kind, quite as amazing as Charles.

Charles takes his time, and Arthur lets him. Eventually, he puts the razor down, holding up the mirror for him to look. In the mirror, Arthur looks tired. His cheek is still bruised, and he’s paler than normal, but his beard is now a manageable length and he can’t help but chuckle in surprise. “I’ll have to hire you to do my shaves from now on.”

“Oh, no. I don’t think being a barber is the life for me,” Charles chuckles, leaning back a bit, “but I’m glad you like it.”

“Thank you. Really, I mean it.” Arthur looks over, placing a hand on Charles’ knee. “You’re a good man, Charles Smith.”

Smiling slightly, Charles places his hand on top of his, then pats it gently. “So are you.”

For some reason, when it comes from Charles, Arthur wants to believe it.

***

A few nights later, Arthur sits up in his bedroll again, lighting himself a cigarette. It immediately makes him feel better as he breathes out a puff of smoke. Suddenly, perhaps following the trail, Dutch appears at the side.

“It’s nice to see you up, son.” Leaning against the nearby tree, Dutch watches, and his eyes say that he shouldn’t be smoking. Arthur knows he’s probably right, but he still blows one more puff before putting it out. “How are you feelin’?”

“Everyone keeps askin’, and the answer’s always fine.” Trying not to sound too frustrated, Arthur sighs softly. “I’m sorry. I shoulda seen it comin’.”

Dutch shakes his head, walking over to sit in the stool. “Nonsense, Arthur, nonsense. It…” he sighs, shaking his head. “It was my fault. I didn’t listen to you, or Hosea, and that’s what got you into this mess. I apologize.”

The apology almost leaves Arthur speechless. He blinks a few times, then smiles a little. “You know I’m always gonna be behind you, Dutch. Always.”

Dutch gently ruffles his hair. “And you know I’d never let Colm O’Driscoll hurt another person I love. I was gonna come for you, and kill every last one to make sure you were safe.”

“I know.”

He hadn’t known for sure, but that thought, looking back now, is ridiculous. Of course Dutch would come for him. They’re family.

Quiet singing floats in the air, the familiar voice of Javier and his guitar carried through the trees. Arthur smiles, watching Dutch look up. “Go join everyone else. Find Hosea or somethin’. I’m fine over here.”

“You sure?”

“No need for you to be sittin’ over here feelin’ sorry for yourself when everyone’s havin’ fun, Dutch. Go.”

Exhaling, Dutch carefully stands up. “Okay, okay. Yell if you need anything, son.”

Arthur lifts a hand in goodbye, watching him walk off toward the others, where the fire crackles. Feeling better, he lays down, letting the peace eventually lull him back to sleep.

***

Another few days pass. A rotating group of people sit with him while he finishes recovering, and eventually he’s able to get up and walk around with minimal pain. He goes to the docks, breathing in the early morning air as he writes in his journal.

“I thought I’d be buryin’ you, Mr. Morgan.” Arthur looks up with a slight smile. “Not quite yet, Reverend.”

Swanson chuckles. “Good. How you feelin’?”

The question doesn’t bother him anymore. He sighs, remembering how often he’s saved the Reverend and now, he’s saved him in return. “Oh, ‘bout the same as you.”

“I’m sorry to hear that.” Swanson smiles. “Take care of yourself.”

“You too.”

Arthur listens to the sound of receding footsteps, then stands up. When he turns around, he takes in the camp. As he listens to Hosea’s laughter, Mary-Beth and Tilly’s domino game, Charles and Lenny’s quiet voices, he finds himself feeling really, really good.

#red dead redemption 2 #rdr2 #arthur morgan #dutch van der linde #hosea matthews #lenny summers #kieran duffy #abigail roberts #john marston #jack marston #charles smith #reverend swanson #susan grimshaw #man i fucking love this game #I love found family #my writing #agoldengalaxy #my post

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effervescentdragon · 1 year

Note

lefrères (or charles ship of your choice) + "where we're from, there's no sun"

The world ends on a Thursday. It isn't even a special Thursday, it's just a random Thursday like any other, nothing special about it, and somehow that makes it even worse.

They are together, all three of them, out and enjoying the first rays of spring sun. Lorenzo holds Arthur's hand in his left, and Charles' in his right, and the two of them are both eating ice-cream. Lorenzo sees that they both have more ice-cream on their faces than they should, but he isn't annoyed. They look ridiculous, his brothers, and he's laughing along with them as they walk to the edge of the pier in the Monaco marina. Lorenzo is laughing as he sits down and pulls the tissues from his pocket to start wiping his brothers' faces, but he also feels restless. The water underneath them isn't moving, and the sky is clear, but there is a feeling of anticipation in the air. Or maybe that's just Lorenzo overthinking, as he is prone to do. The sea is calm, the waves barely there, and that makes him uneasy for some reason.

"I can wipe my own face," Charles says to him when he's done with Arthur. "I'm a big boy now, Lolo."

Arthur is throwing pieces of his cone into the sea, hoping to see some fish, and Lorenzo nods at Charles and gives him the tissue. Charles manages to make even a bigger mess of himself, but before Lorenzo can intervene, Arthur is suddenly moving closer to him and clutching his hand.

"Lolo, why is the sun going away?" he asks, and Lorenzo snaps his head up. The waves below them start rising, and a disquiet fills the air. The seagulls are screaming somewhere, and they sound too close to the way humans scream. Lorenzo feels Charles' hand clutch his forearm.

"Lolo," Charles whispers, half-scared but still half-curious, pointing towards something in the distance, something that looks big, too big, and unnatural. "What is that?"

Later, Lorenzo will find out just what kind of destruction the thing in the water is capable of. (Total.) Later, Lorenzo will know the full scope of what they are about to lose. (Everything.) Later, Lorenzo will find out the thing's name. (Kaiju.)

But that will all come later. Now, as the world ends on a random Thursday in March, Lorenzo takes his brother's hands, pulls them up from the pier, where the water levels are rising too rapidly for it not to be a sign that something very bad is about to happen, and calmly, deapite his pounding heart, says, "Run."

(Years later, when Charles is on the way to piloting a Jaeger of his own and Arthur is following in his footsteps, as he always did, Lorenzo will come an visit them during training. He will wait for his brothers against a wall, and he will see them exiting the training grounds. He will see a young, gangly man walking with them, and will see him ask something, too far away to be heard. He will observe the way his brothers look at each other and recognize the look from the day when the world ended on a pier in Monaco, and he will see the way Charles nods with a smile that doesn't ever reach his eyes anymore, and he will hear Arthur say matter-of-factly "Where we are from, there is no sun," and he will dig his nails into his palms and close his eyes, because if Charles and Arthur were too young to remember the times when Monaco was the brightest jewel in the light of the sun, Lorenzo wasn't. He won't say anything, though. It will not be his place to remind them of something that will never be, again.)

#im sorry katie im in a mood xD #another pacific rim au #lefrères #f1 rpf #effervescentdragonwrites #my writing #angst i guess

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kayhi808 · 9 months

Text

Perfect Match -16

You don't know when you lost consciousness, but you're woken up to soft tapping on your arm. Mike is trying hard not to jar your body, because he knows you're in pain. Even the slightest movement triggers a pounding in your head & sets your chest on fire. "Y/N? Y/N? I did it. I did exactly what you told me to do," Mike whispers.

You can barely open your eyes, "Mike?"

"Yea, Bill will be here soon. He'll come for you here. Your dad made the follow-up call and they left to meet up with your grandfather. He has no idea Bill will know it's a trap. It'll be easier to break in with most of the guys gone."

"You did good. Real good." Speaking those few words bring on a coughing fit. The pain alone makes you see stars, but the amount of blood that comes up scares you.

"Y/N??" Mike kneels down next to you. "Your...there's blood." You start to softly cry. You feel it. Internal bleeding. This just confirms it.

The door opens behind Mike, "What the fuck is going on here?"

"Get your hands off me! You pervert!" You try to muster up as much anger as you can. Mike has a look of shock & fear.

He turns to see the leer on Arthur's face and he catches on. Getting to his feet, "Shut the fuck up! Don't flatter yourself. You look like shit!" He pulls it off with just a slight waver in his voice.

"Look at you, little gangster. I ain't stopping you. Go ahead." Arthur walks further into the room.

"No way. I'm not messing with her while you watch, you sick fuck!""

Shoving Mike back, "Then get outta my way so I can have some fun."

"Dude, I'm not sure we should be doing this. Paulo gave us clear instructions. We aren't supposed to touch her. Him and Mr. Luciano will be back soon."

"Fuck them. She killed my brother!" Arthur takes out a knife & pulls your body closer to him. You scream in pain, thanking the darkness that begins to overtake you. You don't want to be conscious for what Arthur has in mind. But with a sharp slap cross the cheek, it drags you back to the present, "Don't pass out yet, bitch. I have big plans for you."

*****

Micro stayed behind to coordinate the attack on the house and to monitor the feeds to keep Billy & the team safe. Using the equipment Micro had, he was able to monitor live feeds from the site. Using the earpieces, Billy reminded everyone of their orders. "We shoot to kill. The only people in that house that doesn't get a bullet is Y/N & Mike. If she says he's innocent, I'll believe her. I can always kill him at a later date if he's lying to me. Understood?"

The house is easily found, the tiara is sitting on a hedge against the house. Billy has Frank & a couple of your grandfather's men with him. Your grandfather insisted on coming along, but agreed to stay with the cars until the house was secure. Micro was able to get old maps to the house, so we had the layout, but he also hacked into government satellite that can use infrared to determine how many people are inside & where. The plan of attack has been memorized. Billy is methodical on his missions.

As they are making their way to the house to get into position, Micro's voice comes over the communication device. "Fuck, Russo. You need to go now! The infrared reading for Y/N shows her temperature is flickering into a dangerously low zone. Plus, there is some asshole towering over her in a position that does not look appropriate."

So much for methodical, Bill rushes the door & kicks it open. Listening to the instructions in their ear, the team trusts Micro to guide them through the house.

Bill gets to your room, the door is open & he enters to see a gangly man being tossed across the room. Mike. Arthur is between your thighs digging through the layers of your wedding dress trying to get at you. Arthur hears Bill enter & picks up his knife. He recognizes immediately who he is & plunges the knife in your abdomen. Your scream matches the one torn from Bill's throat. Bill squeezes the trigger. Even through the red haze of fury clouding Bill's vision, his hand doesn't waver and his aim is true. The bullet leaves the gun & hits precisely in the center of Arthur's forehead.

Bill falls to his knees by your side. "Micro! Get that fucking ambulance in here now! She's dying. Oh, fuck...I can't lose her. She can't die!" Billy wants to touch you, to cradle you so that you know he's there, but not one part of you doesn't look damaged. Bill lets the others secure the room & the house & he lays on the floor curled up next to you, so you know he's there. That he came for you. He traces his fingertips against parts of your skin that isn't bruised or bloody. "Angel, I love you. Please don't leave me." he whispers into your ear before pressing his lips to your cold, cracked lips.

His eyes trail to the knife sticking out of you and he want to pull it out, but he knows he can't or you'll bleed out faster. His tears fall on your face as he watches helplessly as your breathing slows to a stop.

Before he can register what's happening, Frank has his arms wrapped around Billy, pulling him away. The paramedics arrived and immediately start working on you. They are able to stabilize you enough to move you. "We need to get her to the hospital straight away. We also need to contact her next of kin, as they will probably need permission for surgery."

"I'm her fiance. Today should have been our wedding day. Can I come in the ambulance, please?" Billy asks, unable to hide the desperation in his voice.

"Of course. I'm sorry to hear that, but unfortunately you are not legally her next of kin. What about her parents?"

Billy didn't even realize your grandfather was in the room. "They are not available or able to give consent. I am her grandfather. I have document proving I am her legal next of kin. I can get you it if needed." Billy looks at him in confusion, but with a subtle shake of his head, Billy remains silent, watching Enzo text his on-call forger. Bill knew that whatever documents needed will no doubt be at the hospital before they get there.

You're loaded on to the ambulance and Bill is quick to follow, but quickly remembers something. "Frank, get Mike over & look after him! Make sure no harm comes to him. Bring him to the hospital, ok?" Frank nods in confirmation before heading back towards the house to find him.

Bill straps himself into the ambulance, holding your hand. He spends the whole trip talking to you, telling you all about what you should have been doing right now. You both would be married, but not to worry because as soon as you're the slightest bit better, he'll be marrying his girl. That you needed to get better because there's a kitten named Ginger that needed you. That he needed you. It was like Billy had moved through life in black and white. Until he met You You brought color to his world. He doesn't want to go through it without you.

@e-dubbc11 @imagine-a-fictional-boyfriend @idaofinfinity @jvanilly

@snowkestrel @pequodprincessa @danzer8705 @aoi-targaryen

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