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call-sign-shark · 1 year ago

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In the Heat of the Night || Modern!Arthur Shelby x Reader

Summary: As if blazing summer nights weren’t already annoying enough, you’re here to make Arthur’s insomnia even worse…

He's a former soldier and a drug addict trying to get better. You are an unhinged punk girl living in the streets. You weren't supposed to meet... And now Arthur's fate and yours are forever entangled. Check the Masterlist here if you wanna read more about AU Loose Cannon, Or how a blue-haired rebel wrecked a soldier’s life and stole his heart.

Words: 2.8K

TW: Quick allusions to sexual abuse

Notes: Each part is individual and can be read as one-shots in no particular order.

A growl reached your lips as you rolled on your side, for the sensation of the sofa’s leather sticking to your sweat-covered skin was deeply irritating. Prior to coming to this country, you had been told that summers in the United Kingdom were usually not that warm. Somehow, you believed in the ever-lasting cliché of the UK always being under clouds and rain. Yet, here you were, soaked up despite wearing nothing but your underwear. No matter how the windows were open and how many times you gulped cold water like some kind of thirsty girl lost in the Sahara desert, the hot air still felt thick and suffocating.

You’ve been trying to fall asleep for hours now, but the temperature was preventing you from doing so and nothing seemed to work to overcome it. Besides, the huge malinois that was literally sleeping on you did not help in cooling down. When Arthur offered to take you home he had warned you about sharing the sofa with his dog, Hannibal, so you were more or less expecting him to sleep somewhere at the end of the couch, What you did not expect though was that the dog would use you like some kind of pillow. Bringing your hands to your face, fingers clenched on your own skin, you kept yourself from screaming in frustration. Moreover, the maddening sound of the living room clock was seriously rattling your nerves. No — it was definitely too much to handle. Gently dragging yourself from under the malinois without waking him up, you decided to walk to the bathroom to sprinkle cold water all over your neck and arms in the hope it would cool you down. You discreetly made your way through the corridor, your bare feet ghosting the floor as you moved in darkness like a swift shadow. Suddenly, an odd sound caught your attention and made you stop. It was coming from Arthur’s bedroom, whose door had been left ajar. Even if curiosity killed the cat, you could not help but slipped your blue-haired head into his bedroom to check what was the cause of this mysterious background noise. Suddenly your eyes widened, for you witnessed something you hope you’d have never witnessed.

“YOU FUCKING BASTARD!”

Your voice roared so loudly in the room that Arthur sat up straight on the mattress in one movement, panic visible on his face and right hand ready to reach for his gun. The soldier’s piercing blue eyes had to scan you for a little while before his traumatized mind understood you were not an enemy coming to kill him, “Here we go…” Arthur’s shoulders relaxed. “What’s the matter now?! Can’t even sleep at night!”

“Are you fucking kidding me?!” You screamed right away, storming into the bedroom. You were so infuriated that your skin heated up even more but you could not care less: what you had just seen deserved some immediate explanations, “You had a fan the whole time and you did not even tell me,” You said with the most outraged tone you could do, “Worst, you kept it for yourself and left me to die in the living room! You’re one fucking selfish motherfucker!”

“Oi! Do I look like fookin’ Mother Theresa?! I gave you a roof over your head and food on your plate! Can’t you survive without a fan? Now get yer ass out of my room, you damn crazy bitch!” He surprisingly yelled louder than you, his husky voice making the whole house shake. Still, you did not follow his order. When he saw that you weren’t moving, Arthur grabbed a pillow and threw it at your face with a perfect sniper aim, “And don’t you enter the room without knocking! Could have been jerking off and seeing your stupid face at that moment would have been a real turn-off!” The soldier grunted, just wanting to go back to sleep.

“The fuck did you just do? Are you crazy? You wanna die?” Your voice had become suddenly quieter when you emphasized each word of your sentence, right after that awful affront. In truth, you did not let him have the time to answer your question nor to insult you for you jumped on the bed as quickly as a jungle cat and immediately start to mercilessly beat him with another pillow, “THE FUCK DID YOU DO??” You repeated, giving in to your destructive rage — well, not that really destructive considering that your weapon was a soft and squishy pillow but still you did try to look convincing.

“FOOK!” Arthur’s hoarse voice exclaimed, more irritated than anything, “Stop it! Stop hitting me or you’ll regret it!” He tried to warn you but it had no effect — you were still trying to murder him through a great deal of pillow smacks. Little you know, handling your small and little body was something he could do with closed eyes. After all, he had beaten the shit out of a trained elite soldier, so a little psychotic Smurfette won’t impress him. But you were blinded by your rage, hence you did not take into account the fact he was part of the elite forces of Special Air Service. Nor did you notice the smooth way he positioned himself to, all of sudden, turn you around and overpower you without the slightest effort. A little scream escaped from your lips as he dominated you. When you realized what had just happened it was already too late: you were firmly pinned to the bed, Arthur’s hands holding your wrists above your head and his body weight keeping you still, “What are ye gonna do now eh, little one?” He snarled, teeth bared and fury blazing in his sharp blue eyes. Now you were fucked. Your enraged pout suddenly turned into a shocked expression.

“Let me go!! Let me go!!” You screeched, wriggling like a snake under him to set yourself free but you knew it was vein.

Arthur’s lips stretched in a sadistic smile as he saw you struggling under his grip, “Did not expect you to be that weak eh?” He taunted, enjoying the moment and having fun now that the table had turned. Maybe it was time to teach you a little lesson? He brought his face closer to yours, his cold eyes diving into your irises and his scorching breath fanning over your face, “You know I could do everything I want with you now that you’re trapped in me bed? I could snatch your throat with my bare teeth… What do ye think, me cute little prey?”

“Arthur, let me go!” The beating of your heart was now chaotic. It pounded so hard in your chest that you felt it was about to burst your ribcage. You started to quiver, feeling trapped. After all, you were so tiny compared to him…

“Want me to eat you alive?” He purred in your ear, grinning like a hungry wolf. His husky voice sent tremors down your spine.

And suddenly, it was not anger that was burning in your eyes anymore… It was terror. Genuine terror that coursed through your veins and petrified your whole body, just like a doe in front of a car’s headlights. You felt his bruising grip painfully tightening around your wrists.

“Please… Stop…” You managed to beg, despite the almost choking lump in your throat. It was all it took for Arthur to grasp the desperate tone of your voice and stop teasing you the moment he understood he had taken it too far.

“Shit!” He cursed, freeing your wrists and moving from the top of you to sit on the bed, “I’m fookin’ sorry, stinky rat. I was just playin’ ye know?” Slightly panicked at the sight of tears in your eyes, Arthur gently pressed his hand on your shoulder and helped you sit next to him. Still, you remained silent, requiring a little while to calm the creeping anxiety that had started to draw you into a pit filled with venomous bad memories. “I was just playing, really. I would never hurt ye…” Arthur’s gravel voice broke the silence, coated with the softest tone you had ever heard. Now he was starting to get really worried — he would have preferred you to curse at him, scream or even kick him rather than face your freezing silence, “Please, don’t be scared of me.” Something broke in his voice. Arthur wanted so hard to hug you but he didn’t want to scare you more, “I would never …”

“I know.” You cut him. Gently coming back to your senses, you looked at him and soon notice the gleam of fear that was glowing in his steel irises. A little sigh escaped from your still quivering lips, “Tsss calm down, I wasn’t scared. I was just messing with you, fucker.” You mumbled, hoping he would believe it because, on the one hand, you did not want him to feel bad, and on the other hand you hated to display any sign of witness in front of someone. Especially a man. But unfortunately for you, Arthur was more than attentive to little details. And the way you had looked at him had betrayed your true emotions. Nevertheless, he did not want to hurt you more so he did not make any comment about it and just kept observing you to ensure you were feeling better, “Maybe you can do something to apologize like… I don’t know, giving me the fan?”

“Get fucked.” He straight off replied. As well as he wanted to make amend for the little fright he had just given you, giving up on the fan was out of question. Moreover, Arthur always tended to have a high body temperature, which rendered summer nights even more insufferable.

“OH COME ON! Gimme the fan now!” You insisted.

“My ass yeah, you ain’t taking the fan out of me bedroom or I swear to God I’ll handcuff you to the radiator.” He threatened you, definitely breaking the brief moment of softness between the two of you. The fan was the house’s treasure and he wasn’t willing to let it go for the life of his.

“Fine, you’ve left me no choice.” You concluded. To be true you did not want to use this solution but you really had no other options left. Hereby, you lay down on the bed and closed your eyes under Arthur’s confused gaze. Perplexed by such a weird move, he scratched his chin wondering what the hell you were doing.

“Eh?” He asked.

“I’ll sleep here then.”

“What?!” Arthur almost choked at such unexpected news, “No yer not. Absolutely fookin no.”

Confronted by the refusal, you raised your gaze toward him and bit your lower lip, crocodile tears suddenly filling your beautiful eyes like you had learned when cops sometimes caught you in the midst of a little mischief, “First you keep the fan. Then you hurt me. What did I do to deserve all of this? Do you really hate me that much, Arthur Shelby?” You lamented with the most heartbreaking pout he had ever seen in his entire life… And that was how guilt started to kick in. It was true he had scared you so, maybe, maybe, he could accept your request? Besides, he could not resist your puppy eyes.

“Fine! Just for tonight.” He said, defeated.

“YES!” You joyfully exclaimed in an almost frightening mood swing. You rolled on your other side to turn your back to him and closed your eyelids. All you heard was Arthur’s long sigh. At least you were shutting your mouth and he could go back to sleep without giving up on the fan.

Silence had fallen in the bedroom for a while when Arthur woke up soaked up in his sweat and almost suffocating from the heat. He sat on the mattress, slicking his hair back, and understood the reason why the room was suddenly so hot: you had moved the fan during his sleep in a way that all the fresh air blew in your direction. Rolling his eyes, he fixed the situation by moving it to his side, “Better,” He grunted. He lay back on the bed. The thing was that the soldier had barely closed his eyes when he heard you moving the fan again.

“Are you bloody serious?” The gravel in Arthur voice made you jump, for you did not expect him to be awake, “If you move that bloody fan one more time...” He left his sentence hanging for more dramatic effect.

“But you’ve got all the fresh air!” You exclaimed, your tone adorably hoarser with sleep.

“Sounds like your problem.”

“Arthur, the fan’s small. I can’t feel the fucking air because you take everything.”

Another loud sigh. At first, he wanted to retort something but he was definitely not in the mood to argue with you anymore. Plus, he knew you would not have it. If he wanted to have some peace, Arthur needed a find a good idea right now — And he did find one, “You’ll be the death of me... ” He simply said. You were about to ask him what he meant by that when, all of sudden, Arthur’s long arms wrapped around your body and pulled you against him in a way you could both enjoy the fan’s fresh air.

Your beings snapped together and your blood immediately boiled in your veins as his hips crashed against your bum, perfectly hugging your shape. An uncontrollable and feverish exhale escaped from your mouth at the sudden sensations as if someone had just lit a fire in your core. Your thoughts started to bump into each other in your skull — should you punch him or should you sink deeper in this sweet, oh-so-sweet, and comfortable embrace? You stopped breathing, focusing on every little sensation.

His chest against your naked back.

His breath caressing your neck.

His legs entangled with yours…

In less than five seconds, your whole body relaxed as if you had always meant to be there. Maybe that was why you instinctively snuggled a bit more against the soldier, whose musky scents and powerful grip made you feel safe. For the first time in your life, you allowed yourself to believe you were shielded from everything… Because contrary to everyone else on this damn planet, you trust Arthur with all your soul. You finally closed your eyelids, soothed by the fresh air and by Arthur’s presence all around you. Admittedly his skin was warm and you were both covered with a thin layer of sweat, but it was far from unpleasant. Quite the contrary, you low-key wished to stay in his arms forever and surprised yourself by thinking you wouldn’t be angry if he touched you a little more… But you’d rather die than confess it.

“And I don’t hate ye.” He whispered.

“Yeah. I guess I don’t either… But I prolly will if you tell anyone I’m the little spoon.”

He could not help but chuckle, “Alright, love.” The way he called you “love” made you feel fuzzy, “But yer definitely a cute little spoon.”

“Oh shut up, Arthur.”

No words were spoken after that because words weren’t needed anymore. Arthur buried his nose in your wild blue hair and enjoyed the peculiar fragrances of your sweet perfume, fragrances that were almost getting him high… It struck him all of a sudden: he did not feel the need to snort coke anymore tonight.

It did not take long for you to fall asleep, all comfy and safe in the soldier's arms. In truth, you had not been scared of Arthur but rather of the man you had seen instead of him when he had been pinning you to the bed: Jack Nelson.

But if you slept well, it had not been Arthur’s case despite the fresh air of the fan and the comforting silence of his bedroom. And for once, it was not his PTSD nor the thought of Linda or his drug cravings that kept him awake: it was you. Only you. The sensations brought by your two bodies perfectly interlocking together drove him to the edge of madness, for far too many sensations stimulated him. The frictions caused by your slightest movement stirred surges of electricity through his core and made his blood boil in his veins. Also, what about that lovely face you had when you were sleeping? Arthur sighed in your neck, causing you to shiver in your sleep. He was well aware that tomorrow morning you’ll both start to fight again, insulting each other and fighting over trivial things, but in the meantime he just wanted you to wake up and, by an unexplained miracle, kiss him with passion, then pull him under the bedsheet for a more intimate way of knowing each other. He swallowed the knot in his throat, trying to get the image of his hands exploring your gorgeous body out of his mind. Yeah, he just wanted you to love each other until the sun rose. But you didn’t wake up and that was fine with him, for he was already glad to have you in his arms, all quiet and peaceful, despite the torture it was.

Just one night, he told himself. He had to keep it together just for one night and then, you’ll be back on the sofa.

Won't you?

♠️ Any comment, review, reblog, or constructive criticism is welcome. Your reactions really motivate me and keep me alive, so please don't be shy. English is not my first language.

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