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howlett-n-morgan · 1 month ago

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Take Me Home

5. Blood Stains

Arthur Morgan x Texas Red!Reader

A/n: HEY GUYS I AM BACK WITH A DOOSIE. okay so my fashion show was fantastic, let me know if y'all wanna see a video of my collection i think it turned out pretty damn good. anyways, wrote this while crocked off my ass on Benadryl bc allergy season is hitting very very hard right now so if it's not perfect we are all going to collectively blame the Benadryl, okay? okay.

Summary: An accident in the laundry causes chaos in the camp, and secrets are revealed sooner than expected. With everyone else acting like the world is caving in, Arthur steps up as usual.

Warnings: misogyny, major gender role tropes, a little bit of personal violation, but very minor. Susan is a bitch in this chapter (we love Susan). Blood plays a lot into this chapter, and so do menstrual cycles, so if you're uncomfortable with those mentions, this may be a skippable chapter for you. There's also like some sexual implications but nothing inherently sexual happens. I think that's it, let me know if I missed anything.

WC: 7.8k

“Climb up, let’s go to town before closing time,” he walked around to the other side where his horse was hitched from earlier today, still saddled since Bill hadn’t made his rounds yet. You complied, but were unsure of the motives for such a trip. “Is Dutch paying you to take me somewhere? He want you to kill me quietly?”

In the weeks since John’s disappearance, you’ve noticed three things:

One, Dutch hasn’t barely been seen in the camp, and when he makes his presence known, it’s either angry or forlorn. Two, the entire gang has been very quiet, not wanting to set off Dutch, or make anyone else upset with the matter. Three, Arthur has done as he said he would, becoming closer with Abigail, and helping nightly with Jack.

It shouldn’t break your heart, because you had no right for it to. You shouldn’t be distancing yourself from the both of them, they didn’t do anything to deserve it, but the way your chest tightened by watching them, watching Arthur gently place a hand on her shoulder as he watched Jack squirm in her arms was far too miserable. Abigail won’t speak of it, knowing that everyone has been on edge since her former lover left, but she missed the talks and conversations you held. You understood her, and though she didn’t exactly know the truth as to why, she was still partially in grief over that bond, too.

Arthur takes immediate notice, but doesn’t say anything. Hosea had mentioned your run in with John the evening he took off. He figured you needed time to cope with the situation, even if you didn’t know John all that well, or even like him for that matter. Everyone in camp was dealing with it differently, so why should he judge the way you handled yourself?

It was only when you stopped talking to him altogether that he became slightly concerned, and he wasn’t the only one.

When Dutch first brought you into the gang, he knew there was some subtle competition with you and Arthur. The two fastest guns in the west, hell, maybe even the world… but you butted heads often. He didn’t know why it had suddenly stopped, but his concern grew from being in both your presences at the same time, and the icy feeling he got just from standing between you, running over job details in a tent.

It was like Arthur didn’t exist to you anymore. Everything you said and did was conveyed to the people around him, but never to him. You would even give news to a big group of people to avoid telling Arthur directly.

Dutch knew there was something wrong, because he could have sworn you both were inches away from getting along, but now it was worse than square one. It was after a successful job that he said something about it. After you had deliberately handed Arthur’s cut to Javier and told him to give it to the next man over.

You’d ridden back, safe and sound, but Dutch held you back, nodding the others away from the horse troughs.

“Talk with me for a bit, will ya son?” He tried to approach the situation gently. This couldn’t have been a gradual thing.

“F’course,” you muttered, hands resting on your gun belt as you followed him into the center of camp.

“I’ve been noticing some… strange behavior from you towards Arthur. Only lately…” he scratched his head, looking at you expectantly. “You can tell me if he did somethin’ to piss you off, I’ll speak with him about it.”

You furrowed your brow and shook your head. “He didn’t do nothin’ to piss me off… I’ve just always been better off on my own, don’t wanna rely on anyone.”

“I can understand that sentiment, but it doesn’t make any damn sense as to why you’re givin’ him the cold shoulder,” he furthered his point, and you didn’t have any choice but to make something else up. Something that could actually be worth what you were doing to Arthur. Your head told you that the truth of ‘I’m actually a young woman and I’m catching feelings for your gang enforcer’ wouldn’t help you.

“He’s been tryna hold me back,” you sighed out, as if revealing some huge secret. It was partially true, but you’d grown more relaxed about the protection Arthur had been trying to provide. Still, you kept on the charade, knowing it would get you out of this situation free and clear. “M’tired of him thinkin’ I can’t keep up, tired of feelin’ like a helpless kid next to ‘im.”

Dutch let out a breath and narrowed his eyes. “I see… and so you figured it best to keep him out of arm’s reach, is that it?”

“Guess so,” you shrugged, leaning against the pole of his big tent.

And then it seemed that Dutch saw this as a teaching moment, because he nodded for you to sit down on one of the cross latch boxes, across from where he stood. He had a whole spiel oncoming, and you were almost sure you knew what it would contain. Something about the camp being a family, everyone sticking together and more nonsense of the like.

“You don’t understand this now, because you’ve never had a time of need in this gang… but that day will come,” he paused, and you perhaps had it all wrong, listening intently now. He pointed in the direction of Arthur’s camp set up, and you glanced over, not for the first time that day. He was tired, hunched over his cot and leaning in exhaustion, running his hand over his face. “And when you are in that time of need, there is no better man to have in your corner than Arthur Morgan.”

You nodded in understanding, a small frown on your face. You wanted to protect yourself, but if what Dutch says is true, you’re only setting yourself up for failure.

“He’s been here a long time, and no matter your opinion of him, no matter the things you do or the things you say, he’s loyal. It ain’t up to me what you decide to do, but you should know, he’s the best ally you’re ever gonna have.”

And just like that, you regretted the past weeks. Everything you did to avoid him, getting up early to grab some of the coffee before he came by. Going out and hunting without letting anyone know, just so that he didn’t have a chance to come with you. Even going as far as to mend your own clothing and do your own laundry, knowing he might catch you at one of the girl’s stations while picking up your weekly wears. You felt awful. You remembered at least four times he tried to approach you before he just gave up. At the time you were grateful, because you thought it was making things easier for you, but in actuality, the things Dutch said were true. You needed him in your corner. There would be a time of need, and Arthur was the best ally to have when that time would come, whatever it may be.

“I think I oughta go set things right, then,” you let out, your ego deflating slightly when your eyes met Dutch again.

“If you think it’s best,” he nodded, switching places with you and watching you walk over to his favored outlaw, the man he called his son. He called you son, too. You wondered if that would hold up if he ever found out about you.

Arthur was on the verge of sleep, but you were doing this now. You could apologize later.

“You look like shit,” you tried to be nonchalant, and not bring any emotion into this.

When he looked up, he was slightly annoyed, but his face softened once he looked at you for a moment.

“Feel like shit,” he grumbled, trying to understand what you were doing here. You didn’t exactly give him reason to believe he was important to you anymore. “Did you need something?”

You kicked the dirt beneath your boot, trying to keep yourself composed, but you weren’t too good at these things, and the amount of shear stiffness in your body wasn’t helping you to relax about it.

“I think I owe you an apology,” you started, and he tilted his head in slight confusion. Sure, he knew what you were apologizing for, but he didn’t know why. “I’ve been avoidin’ you, n’ I shouldn’t have.”

He nodded in thanks, accepting your words. You stood awkwardly, unsure if you should say more or just leave, but when you turned your boot to walk, he stopped you.

“Did I piss you off or somethin’?”

Why was everyone asking that?

“No, ain’t nothing you did. Just my own stupid ass and things that don’t matter,” you told him. You felt even worse now, because you’d made both him and Dutch think that it was something he did wrong. He could rarely do any wrong in your eyes, which made this whole ordeal that much worse.

“Matters enough, you stopped talking to me. Couldn’t even get you to look my way.”

You didn’t want him to know anything else. With him and Abigail rapidly forming a blossoming relationship, it wasn’t for you to stand in their way. Jack needed a father figure, and Arthur was the perfect candidate.

“I’m sorry about it. I swear it won’t happen again,” you really wanted to leave this time, unsure of how far it may go in the event of a deep conversation… but he caught your wrist and gently tugged it back towards where he sat as soon as you started turning away again.

“You gotta give me somethin’, Red. I’ve waited weeks just to ask you,” he pleaded, his tired eyes looking through you and trying to enter your mind. You caved just as soon as you saw how badly this affected him. You hurt him. He might be big, burly, and dangerous… but he bleeds, and his heart can be wounded as easily as anyone else’s.

“I’ve been going through some things, and you’ve had a lot on your plate with Jack and Abigail. It’s not fair of me to make my burdens your burdens… I was tryna keep you out of it,” you admitted, which was only half true. The partial truths of the night were stacking up, but fortunately he couldn’t tell the difference right now, too tired and unfocused to really study your features and what you were hiding.

“Red,” he sighed, not yet prying for more information, but giving you one last glance. “You can tell me things. Remember that.”

You nodded, smiling at him for the first time since John left. “Alright.”

You stopped avoiding and ignoring Arthur, but things were still distant. You’d been getting close right after Jack was born, but going into his third month in the world, you two were miles apart. Still, it was better than the stone cold facade you’d been turning to him before.

“Got any laundry?” Susan asked, breaking you out of your trance as you watched the sun setting. You weren’t really paying much attention, but nodded, reaching behind you into your tent for a sheet full of worn out and dirty clothing. You should have looked it over, but you didn’t, too caught up in your own mind. “You can ask the girls about getting it back tomorrow, they’ve been going stir crazy for things to do.”

“Yes ma’am,” you nodded, tipping your hat and leaning back against your small tent’s middle pole. You had half a mind to slide your hat over your eyes for a nap, but that didn’t seem like it would fly, especially if one of the others needed you for something.

You could definitely use a nap, you were cramping like crazy. You swore if Bill came up to you and asked for any more favors with the damn horses this week you’d kill him, but only because you were feeling grumpy.

You wanted so badly to confide in Arthur about these things, the troubles of womanhood that you couldn’t share with anyone else but him. You wondered if he would ever tell anyone, since it’s been almost five months of your residence and you have yet to reveal your secrets to everyone else. Maybe you were being paranoid, but the closer he got to Abigail and the further you pushed him away, you thought he might care less about the agreement you both made. After all, spilling your secret to Dutch would gain him loyalty points, and Dutch seemed all too happy to be giving them out since John left.

It was about an hour later when there was a shriek at the other side of camp, and many ran over to see what the trouble was.

Tilly had been sitting by her wash bin, but had pulled her hands out on account of one thing.

“What’s the matter, Tilly?” you heard Sean over your shoulder, and when you finally saw the trouble your eyes widened and you muttered a single word under your breath.

“Shit.”

“What’s shit?” Arthur’s voice was also heard beside you now, and you turned to him ever so slightly with a whisper.

“Me, I’m in deep shit.”

Tilly showed everyone the water, with some clothing swirling around, but it was all tinted red.

“I think someone’s been hurt,” she said, waving over Mrs. Grimshaw to show her the problem. “There’s blood in the water.”

You tried to casually back up slowly, hoping that it wouldn’t get traced back to you, after all, the clothing in the bin was yours, and Mrs. Grimshaw had just picked up the pile from you. You were just stupid enough to leave your monthly attire in with it, and during your monthly time, too. You were only two days into the cycle, meaning there had been a lot of blood.

Grimshaw, being the stern and impatient woman she was, rolled her sleeves up and dug around in the water, looking for clothing with holes to indicate a stab or bullet wound… but she only found:

“A sanitary apron?” She furrowed her brows. She was pretty in tune with the women of the camp, and hadn’t been aware that someone was menstruating right now.

“You better run, kid,” Arthur caught on, nudging your shoulder. You’d already started getting further away from the scene, but it seemed Grimshaw already came to a conclusion before you could make a break for it.

“I picked these up from…” she trailed, her brow now seemingly angry and strewn together in a stressful manner. She marched over to you, grabbing your lanky wrist harshly and tugging you away from the scene. “You better not be hidin’ what I think you’re hidin’!”

You held onto your hat as she practically ran you into the nearest tent. It wasn’t hers or yours but that didn’t matter, her urgency was all too apparent.

“Miss Grimshaw, what’s this all about?”

“I have had my suspicions about you since you arrived here,” she spoke intensely, pulling you forward by your belt buckle and doing her best to undo it.

“Hey, hey! What’re ya doin’?!” You tried to protest, but her nimble hands were too persistent, and she finally got your pants loose enough to take a brief peek at what she needed to see. “What the hell, would you stop?!”

“I knew it!” she yelled, a finger pointed in the air.

And just like that, you knew you were screwed.

She quickly ran out of the tent, and you tried to follow her, making a quick attempt at putting your belt back together on the way out.

Arthur ran a hand over his face when first he saw you, and the state you were in. He knew the jig was up, too.

“Where is that man when you need him?” Susan was turning every which way, a mess of herself just trying to frantically look for the camp leader.

“Dutch? He’s in town with Hosea, what’s the problem?” Bill sauntered up, dusting his hands from the work he’d paused.

Pearson and Javier all of a sudden made an appearance, and when you thought nothing could make this worse, the rest of the camp zoned in on the chaos, having had nothing better to do this whole day. It was slow, and there were no jobs to be done, so the boredom consumed minds jumped on the first sign of entertainment they could find, and boy was it something.

“We have an imposter in our midst!” She yelled, her arms waving around wildly.

“Hold on, now…” You tried to interject, but Arthur shot you a look, shaking his head. Don’t do it, kid. Just shut up.

“What do you mean an imposter?” Pearson crossed his arms. He was never one to give bad news of any kind to, because he had a tendency to blow it out of proportion. “Who?”

“That,” she pointed at you, her voice raised to the highest decibel count you knew was humanly possible. “Is not an eighteen year old boy! She has been fooling us all. Who even knows where she comes from, what her real name is!”

“What the hell are you even talking about?”

“The kid?”

“Ain’t no way…”

The rapid responses coming forward almost eased your mind, except for the fact that Susan did in fact have up close and personal proof from what she saw.

Arthur stepped forward, and as the murmurs grew louder, and Miss Grimshaw was prepared to go on another rant, he did all he could to calm the situation.

“Let’s not make any rash judgements right now,” he gave you a look, trying to let you see he was attempting to help, but that you needed to leave. “We’ll just wait until Dutch and Hosea get back.”

You took that as a cue to leave, awkwardly making way for your tent.

“Where do you think you’re going?” Susan tried to chase after you, but Arthur held her back.

“Wait for Dutch,” he said, his arm blocking her path. Who knows what she’d do in this state? She’d been known to whip some of the boys into compliance before, who knows what she’d do to someone she viewed as an imposter.

Sitting with the flaps closed, you could still hear everything that was occurring outside, and it nerved you far more than being in the middle of it all.

“It doesn’t make any sense…” and “Do you think it’s true?” could be heard from separate conversations, and you wished more than anything that you’d just done your own damn laundry.

Your face fell in your hands, and you started going over all the things that could happen. Dutch could hate you for lying to him, and kick you out, banishing you as far as you could go. Or, since you were a newbie, and didn’t have the trust factor built yet, maybe they would just shoot you dead. That may have been an extreme idea, but with your rapidly beating heart and increasing worry, things like that were bound to spill in. Not like you’d been in a gang before, you didn’t exactly get an etiquette and rule book when you arrived. Who knew what would happen to you. Nothing good, that you knew.

When Arthur finally opened the flap and leaned down inside the small dwelling, you knew it was time to face the music.

“Dutch is back, Susan’s tellin’ him everything,” he sighed, looking over your face and feeling a sense of guilt that he didn’t do anything to stop all of this. When you first arrived he thought maybe it wouldn’t be a big deal, but having experienced this much drama in just the past hour has most definitely led him to believe he was wrong.

When you stayed silent, and didn’t really give him a reaction of any kind, he could tell you were hit hard with the anxiety and shock of it all. He couldn’t ever get you to shut up, and he often didn’t want to, most of all now when you looked like a scared animal.

“I ain’t gonna let ‘em hurt ya, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

You shook your head, and against your hardest efforts, tears were backing your eyes, looking for ways to escape. He hadn’t ever seen you like this, and it wasn’t pleasant.

“I don’t wanna leave,” you admitted. You liked it here. You weren’t lonely here, and you had a family… or at least you did an hour ago. You didn’t know where you stood with half of these people.

He couldn’t speak for Dutch or Hosea, or anyone else really, but he could speak for himself.

“I don’t want you to, either…”

When Arthur heard his name called, he leaned back, looking in the direction of his father figure, looking angrier than a pack of hungry wolves.

“Yeah?”

“Tell Brooks to see me, now.”

You didn’t even need the message relayed. You stood up, and followed Arthur out of the tent, your head down as you made the distance to the center tent, the big one you’d been at only a bit ago with council from your leader. You only hoped he’d be so forgiving when he found out you lied to him.

Arthur got into the tent first, mumbling a few things you were a little distracted to hear. You did catch the small ‘don’t be too hard on her’ fall from his mouth, though.

You sat down on the box chest, close to the exit of the tent, just in case things went south and you had to run. Not that you were thinking about running, but again, a million scenarios crossed your mind.

“Arthur, wait outside.”

You grew more tense as soon as those words were uttered, and so did Arthur it would seem.

“Dutch, I think I should-”

“Wait. Outside.”

He reluctantly did as he was told, walking far enough away that he wouldn’t be reprimanded, but still in your eye-line so he could keep an eye on you. He trusted Dutch with the gang members, but if he was considering kicking you out, that made you fair game.

“I’m gonna cut to the chase,” he took a long drag of the cigar he held between his fingers, blowing the smoke out when he turned his head to the side. “You know why you’re here.”

“I reckon I do,” you answered quietly, trying to keep an ounce of confidence though your entire body felt like it would start shaking in fear.

“I could have you stripped for the whole camp to see, but for propriety’s sake I’m only going to ask you this once… is it true?” He asked, his tone less stern but still eager.

“Yes.”

He sighed, having heard the softness in your voice since you came in, he already knew. You’d never shown this side of yourself to the camp before. You were always confident, sure of yourself, cocky even. To think it was an act boiled his skin… but he wanted to take his time with this. You still had capabilities the likes he’s never seen, and if he wasn’t careful they could one day be used against him. You didn’t know about the O’Driscolls yet, and he sure as hell wouldn’t have you running off and joining them. It would be the death of the Van Der Linde gang, of that he was certain.

“I’m gonna decide what to do with you, but until then, you stay out of my sight.”

He pointed outside of the tent, and you were honestly surprised that this was the extent of his questioning. Nothing about the lies? About the history? About anything at all?

You gave him a double glance, but scurried away in fears he might change his mind and tear you to shreds on the spot. You walked hastily towards Arthur, your face gaining more color to it once you were out of the line of danger.

“You alright?” He asked, his furrowed brows reflecting his concern.

“No,” you let out with a dramatic scoff. Your flare for over exaggeration was sometimes quite amusing to him. He just dropped his head and chuckled.

“You’re fine,” he patted your shoulder before stepping past you and going to talk to Dutch. What he knows is that Susan Grimshaw spilled every nasty detail of this afternoon to the camp leader, but he also knows that he hasn’t had his say yet, and when it comes down to it, Dutch will side with his loyal enforcer over a disgruntled Miss Grimshaw.

Dutch was stretching out his arms, sore from the ride in and out of town. It was a scouting trip, really, but it was enough to make him ache when all the stress was added.

“First John leaving, now this. I can’t seem to catch a break, can I?” Dutch sighed out after his words, the toll they took on his mind caused him to shake his head of so many thoughts.

“This ain’t so bad,” Arthur began, tilting his head from side to side.

“How could you possibly think that?”

Arthur shrugged, reasoning with himself a few options before saying them out loud.

“S’not like she did any harm. Only thing that’s come of it is a bit of surprise to everyone…” he trailed, sitting across from the man he called his father figure and his friend. The tension seemed to ease up the second he neared the man, but there was more to be done to diffuse the situation, and he was all too happy to insert himself as the cause of said diffusion.

“She lied about who she is, for all we know she could be working with local law, or worse, the pinkertons.”

Dutch’s raised concerns nearly made Arthur chuckle. When you first got here, facade or not, you were still just lost and looking for somewhere to call home. There were never any motives behind your gang participation other than needing a family.

“We haven’t had them on our trail in ages. Coming here, we finally put a stop to their sniffin’ around. Besides, she’s been the reason for our successful jobs lately… she’s been loyal enough to save my life despite our differences.”

“But she lied to us,” Dutch kept driving his point. A liar’s a liar, and they lie about other things.

“She’s a scared kid, Dutch. She just wants a place to be,” Arthur defended, his arguments becoming more close and personal, which led Dutch to connect some other dots.

He sighed, looking at Arthur and coming to an understanding of what he knew were past events.

“You knew, didn’t you?”

Arthur dropped his head into a subtle nod, not yet meeting Dutch’s eyes for his fear of a bad reaction.

“Since the week she got here.”

Dutch had to laugh, because of course he did. Arthur was more in tune with the members of camp than he could ever be, and more than they could be with each other. He was like Hosea that way, his ability to connect and grow relationships with others was just a natural gift. He often thought it stemmed from Arthur’s great love of the unknown, and his endless curiosity.

“How’d you figure it out?”

“I didn’t, until I found some uh… rather feminine items in her saddle bag. She fessed up pretty quickly to me,” Arthur scratched the back of his neck, his nerves settling when he knew he wouldn’t be in any trouble.

“Well,” Dutch started, coming to the edge of his open tent, looking for the troubled recruit among the busy movement of the camp. “We’ve taken in much worse, and it’s always been in our favor. And you’re right… She's just a scared kid. A scared kid with the quickest hands I’ve ever seen.”

There was a moment, and then Arthur smiled.

“So… She’s free n’ clear?” He asked, his tone hopeful, which Dutch noticed. Perhaps Red had made amends after all, and just as Dutch promised, Arthur was in her corner. This wasn’t her time of need, per se, but he knew she would have him when it arrived.

“I suppose so, although… I’m not going to be responsible for the court of public opinion,” he gestured to everyone in the camp, frantically working around just to keep themselves busy. With all the chaos going on, it’s the only thing they can do not to sit and gossip, which they do anyway.

“I reckon I better keep her away from Susan?”

“With a ten foot pole, preferably,” Dutch rolled his eyes. That woman was full of determination, and it could be both a great strength, as well as her worst weakness.

Arthur smiled, ready to go make good on a promise he’d been waiting on for some time. “I’ll catch you later then.”

“Alright, Arthur.”

You didn’t know if Arthur’s conversation with Dutch would benefit you or condemn you, but you didn’t stick around to find out. He’d found you saddling your horse, just in case a hasty escape needed to be made. Yes, perhaps your delusions were getting a bit out of hand.

“Where you goin’?”

“Depends,” you started, “How mad is he?”

Arthur huffed and grabbed your wrist, stilling your movements. “He ain’t mad.”

“No?” You could hardly believe it. “He seemed riled up to me.”

“I talked to him,” he explained, but gave no further intel.

“You got magic words or somethin’?” You chuckled, slightly more relaxed since the news came better than you hoped, and Arthur wasn’t dragging you back to be punished or anything. “What’d you tell him?”

“That you were gonna be loyal… and that you’d been scared.”

You scoffed, rolling your eyes, trying to play off his last words like they weren’t true. “I ain’t scared.”

“Really? You were about to run, weren’t you?” He pointed to your full saddle bag and stocked up horse, ready to disappear at a moment’s notice.

You caved.

“He gave me a little fright is all,” you toed your boot into the dirt as you spoke, looking back up to find him nodding at your horse.

“Climb up, let’s go to town before closing time,” he walked around to the other side where his horse was hitched from earlier today, still saddled since Bill hadn’t made his rounds yet.

You complied, but were unsure of the motives for such a trip.

“Is Dutch paying you to take me somewhere? He want you to kill me quietly?”

It was just a joke, but he was getting tired of the overly dramatic interactions. He wasn’t sure what all transpired in your past, albeit knowing more than everyone else… even still, he figured there had to be something that gave you your theatrical touch.

“Knock it off, would ya?”

“Sorry.”

The ride wasn’t long, but the sun was down when you both tied your horses to the poll in front of the general store. You’d been in here a few times, and the man behind the counter always cowered in fear of Texas Red the unkillable. No matter your manners or gentility, that’s just how it was.

“What’re we doin’ here?” You adjusted your hat, wiping some sweat off your forehead and following him up the front steps.

“I remember sayin’ I’d get you a dress a while back, we’re here to make good on it.”

You stopped in your tracks, a wide smile blossoming on your face when you heard him say it. He’d remembered, and been waiting for it since the night he uttered the words.

He noticed you weren’t close behind him, and turned, catching the sweet expression you wore, but brushing it off with a sideways smile.

“C’mon now, gotta pick it out.”

You followed after him, and once inside, the man behind the counter seemed to be nervous, as usual. He didn’t seem to be weary of having you both in, just a bit anxious. Arthur knew his presence held power, but he figured with your reputation in this town, and others around… your presence was bound to hold more.

“What can I do for you? Need more socks?” The man asked you kindly, and you shook your head, a small laugh escaping you.

“No, we’re uh… we’re here to get a dress for my wife,” Arthur spoke evenly, his confidence showing through when he had to put on a show.

Your head snapped to him, and though you knew he was intending to buy the dress for you, a thought sprang into your mind. Abigail. She was going to be his wife.

This sweet little moment, with Arthur keeping his promise, and making a big to-do over your acceptance into camp, was all part of your own little fantasy. It wouldn’t last, and when you returned to camp, he’d be with her again, helping with Jack. You tried to shake the thought from your mind, wanting to enjoy this sliver of time with him.

“Of course! I’ve got a new selection,” he pulled out the catalog, and opened the pages to a section with different types of skirts, petticoats, chemises, and corsets. All were beautiful, but your eye was drawn to a more simple style. It was a work dress, which would be far more practical for you than any of the other ones.

“I’m not too good with all this. What do you think, Red? Which one would she like best?” He tossed you a smirk, leaning his elbow on the counter while he let you browse over the pages a bit longer, turning them over with a furrowed brow of focus.

“What color does this one come in?” You asked the man over the counter, keeping your act up, but letting your hints of excitement show through.

“That one is a nice pale blue, perfect for spring and summer time,” he spoke firmly, becoming more relaxed the longer you both were in the store. Yes, he’d heard the whispers, and for you, he’d actually seen your acts of a quick trigger. But here, you didn’t seem like a threat, so he stopped acting like you were.

“Blue, huh… Might bring out her eyes a bit, hey Arthur?” Now it was your turn to smirk, and he chuckled, nodding back to you and tapping the page twice with a heavy finger.

“You’re right it would, make em’ look like crystal,” he played along, making you blush under the brim of your hat, unbeknownst to the man behind the counter.

“It’s gotta be that one, then.”

Arthur chuckled, counting out the cash that the dress price was listed under, tossing it down on the counter and nodding to the man.

“You heard the kid, we’ll take that one,” he spoke in a playful tone, ignoring the movements of the man as he scurried to the back rooms, getting your dress pieces together.

Arthur lifted the brim of your hat, and smiled genuinely at the look on your face. It was excited, sweet, and grateful. He wanted to buy you the entire stock of the store just to ensure that look stayed on your face, no matter the irrationality of it. He’d become quite accustomed to giving you his time and his efforts, and this was no different. The only difference is that now he wanted to, wholeheartedly. The deal you’d struck with him, the one where you were going to teach him your methods of shooting faster, were now null and void. He didn’t want to take anything from you, he just wanted to give.

When the store worker returned with a large box in hand, Arthur thanked him for his time, carrying the thing over his shoulder and heading for the door, which you opened for him.

Getting outside, you went for the horses, but he stopped you with a swat of your hand away from the reins.

“Can’t go back yet, gotta see how this looks on ya,” he insisted, nodding for you to follow him yet again. He walked for a bit before coming up on the shed with a small lantern inside. It looked like it only housed tools and ropes and things of the like, but there was space enough to change in. “Came across this when I was out one day. Took a whole nap before someone realized I was in here.”

“How convenient,” you teased, taking the box from his hands and eagerly walking into the confined space.

“I’ll be out here,” he mumbled as you shut the door, putting a shovel against it since it didn’t really even close all the way.

You knew he wasn’t the peeping type, so you began tearing away at your clothes, the ones that had been worn completely through by now and needed replacing anyway. You had more back at camp, but you had always missed dresses. This would be the first of many you would probably buy for yourself, but it was going to remain your favorite, because of who it came from.

It was just like clock work, muscle memory helping you to remember all the little ties and snaps that needed to be in place, the corset laces that needed to be pulled enough to fit the outer fabrics. You knew you probably needed a good hair brushing and face washing to actually look like a young woman again, but for now, the dress was doing wonders on your self esteem… or at least it did until you realized you couldn’t finish putting it on by yourself. The buttons on the back went up higher than your shoulder blades, and sat in a near impossible spot to reach. If there was a mirror, you could probably just contort yourself enough to get it together, but in a dark, barely lit tool shed, your options were limited.

You sighed, pulling the shovel away from the door and peaking your head outside. Arthur had nearly gone through an entire cigarette in the time you took to change.

“Arthur?” You asked timidly.

“M’here, you alright?”

“I can’t reach the back,” you admitted, just slightly embarrassed. “Can you give me a hand?”

He was all too happy to comply, stomping out the cigarette on the ground and taking quick steps to reach you. “Turn around.”

You did as he told you, turning so he had access to the open back of the dress. He couldn’t see you all too well in this light, but even from what he could see, a few words entered his mind from a past conversation you had with him.

I used to be quite the stunner… and he surely believed it.

His fingers caressed the exposed skin of your back before buttoning the fabric closed, smoothing it down over your shoulders and watching the way it fit you perfectly.

“Don’t mention this to Abigail,” you joked, turning back around and trying to keep the mood light. It was beginning to feel too intimate, and you knew you couldn’t allow yourself to feel that way with Arthur anymore.

“Why?”

“Well, I might be a bit old fashioned, but isn’t it frowned upon for a taken man to be helping another woman with her dress?”

It was just another joke, but he seemed to be completely thrown off by the implications.

“I ain’t a taken man,” he confessed, looking at you with a stare that was all too deep, and all too consuming. He needed to stop that, but you didn’t have the heart to make him.

“Not yet,” you corrected, but again it was you in the wrong.

“No,” he shook his head, trying to bring a serious tone to the conversation. “I’m not gonna marry Abigail.”

Your face screwed up in confusion, thinking about all the times when he collapsed in her tent with Jack, just to get up and help him in the night. He was Jack’s new father, wasn’t he? That was the deal he made.

“Why not? I thought that you were- well since you were helping with Jack and… what about your deal?”

“I said I was gonna do right by this boy, and I am… But Abigail won’t have me,” he shrugged, admitting to the rejection she gave of his offer. “She’s still in love with John, n’ I can understand it.”

It should have made you feel a bit of sadness, to know that even with all that Arthur was, someone would turn him away like that. ‘Abigial won’t have me’ sounded like perhaps he thought himself not good enough, just as he always does. Despite all of this, you didn’t feel sorrow, you felt an abundance of joy. A wide smile spread across your cheeks, and he furrowed his brow.

“What’re you smilin’ about?”

“Nothing,” you dropped the smile and shook it off, running a hand up his arm and giving it a sincere squeeze. “I’m sorry, Arthur. I know you’ve meant well.”

“S’alright. Hosea’s been tellin’ me since Jack was born that I shouldn’t have offered. He doesn’t think we’re right for one another, somethin’ like that.”

“I agree, you’re not right for each other,” you spoke out loud, though that thought was meant only for your head.

Arthur seemed to be catching on slightly to your behavior, stepping a bit closer and staring downwards at you.

“Yeah? And who am I right for?” He teased, watching the redness of your cheeks spread down your neck and shoulders with every breath you took.

“I guess we’ll just have to wait and find out,” you did your best to counter his taunts, stepping away from him and going to collect your old clothes from the shed. Once they were in hand you turned back to the opening of the alley, making way for the horses. “You coming?”

And of course, he followed, shaking his head and chuckling under his breath.

The next day fared better than you thought it would, if you’re being honest.

You didn’t really know why, if Dutch had said anything, or if Hosea did, but after you returned to camp the previous night, everyone seemed to be acting just fine. They treated you differently for sure, but not badly. In fact, you noticed the men had a certain kind of reverence to you that they never held before. The same they did with the other women.

Maybe it was just the beautiful dress that Arthur bought for you, the light and pure color of it giving you a sense of being ethereal, having finally exposed the raw feminine beauty that was hiding for so long. You reckon you’d even start growing out your hair again, as the short style coming to your chin was not how you preferred to have it in the first place.

You still went to work doing the same tasks you normally did, but were careful not to rip your dress or over-exert yourself, given you were still in the same physical condition as the day before.

“Charl- I mean, Miss Brooks?”

You heard a voice chirp softly from beside you, and you dropped the wagon supplies for now to walk over to the owner of said voice, Tilly.

“Yes, Miss Tilly?” You extended a smile, and she smiled back, albeit a tight and awkward one from where she was sitting. You took a step or two closer, and she had to shake her head after getting a better look at you.

“I just-” she cut herself short on account of the words already jumbling in her head. “I don’t want there to be any awkwardness between us.”

You furrowed your brow to her, unsure of what she could have possibly meant.

“Why would there be?”

“Well, if you can recall,” she started, a nervous chuckle in her speech. “I tried to make some… advances towards you. Back when I thought you were uh… a young man.”

You smiled again and ducked your head, a scoff of laughter and a nod of your head brought about less tension. It was no big deal.

“Don’t worry yourself, Miss Tilly. I was the one who tricked ya, I oughta be apologizing. Probably should to Abigail, too.”

“Abigail?”

You tilted your head, recalling the scene. About two weeks before Jack was born. You’d done the same thing Arthur did, with not a care of revealing yourself in the future.

“Before John even left, I offered her to be Jack’s ‘father’ when he was born. I guess I was pretty certain at the time no one was gonna find out,” you explained, leaning against the wagon she sat by, mending a shirt that looked like Arthur’s. You could tell by the wear and tear around the shoulders, where his broadness likely just caused the fabric to break down faster.

“Could you really have gone on like that?”

“I don’t know,” you pondered, another small laugh escaping you. “Maybe not, since I had to tell everyone I was eighteen just for them to believe it.”

“You aren’t eighteen?” She seemed surprised. Maybe you just had a young face.

“No, ma’am. Twenty two nearing twenty three as a matter of fact.”

“I’ll say,” she tutted, throwing down the shirt she was finished with, and picking up a new one. “You had us all convinced. Makes me wonder where you really came from.”

You thought about telling her, but the story was long and today was a busier day than before. There was actual work to be done in preparing for the next job, a few days ahead.

“Some place I didn’t wanna be,” you chided, stepping away from the wagon, nodding to her in thanks for the small chat. “I’ll let you get back to it.”

“Alright. I’ll catch you around,” she spoke sweetly, a kind look of relaxation on her face, now that she knew where she stood.

You went back to work, making sure that neither Dutch nor Hosea saw you with idle hands today. You wanted to make sure that no matter what happened now, you wouldn’t be cast aside. You still had the abilities they needed, but with a skirt on your hips, they saw you differently, and it was up to you to show them you were not going to be ignored when it came to jobs in the future.

You hated that the rest of the women in camp were just seen as stationary helpers, only capable of mending clothes or cleaning up the camp, or even just laying the groundwork in town for the men to actually pull jobs. You’ve seen Abigail in action, she was smart and cunning and had a great way with words, she could be the difference in things staying civil or having a shoot out during a quiet robbery, but the men overlook her gifts. You know the women in this camp have great potential, and perhaps if they let you continue as you have been, they will open the opportunities for the others as well.

Tags: @photo1030 @sheepdogchick @snoopysshark @strvberrydoll @yyiikes @phantasyy @puffyhairedhipster @scorpio-echo @hollyskjlap

#arthur morgan rdr2 #arthur morgan #arthur morgan x reader #rdr2 #red dead fandom #red dead redemption 2 #arthur morgan x female reader #arthur morgan x original female character #arthur morgan x you

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08melancholie · 1 month ago

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Heyy i know u don't usually write about Kieran but i literally cannot stop thinking abt him rip..... if u want to i'd be absolutely overjoyed to see ur take on some sweet stuff with him, like how he'd react to the reader taking him out for a date night and essentially spoiling the shit out of him. I'm talking fancy restaurant, nice bath, warm bed, a massage and lots of praise (maybe even a .. "special reward" if u wanna write that 🤭) . Might even be fun to see how you'd write other characters in this scenario! Especially Arthur and maybe even Micah :3

thank you so much!

-🥐

omgomg yes. i literally love kieran like a little brother ive never had. he is all too precious to me and i miss him dearly </3

I absolutely can do Kieran and Micah.... got a long night ahead of me so I have the time🫦 (doing gn!reader btw)

wasn't gonna include "special reward" related hcs at first butttt.... i couldn't help myself. ill put a little marking for when the nsfw part comes up. was gonna do arthur but id totally write him ooc, sorry :(

Kieran

SFW

Definitely assumes you're trying to tease him at first, telling him the entire plan of pampering the life out of him just to laugh in his face. Wouldn't be the first time someone's teased him this way, so he'd be quite wary about who he trusts and whatnot in camp.

Realises you're being serious after you get agitated with him and tell him you're serious for the millionth time, then gets mildly nervous about going out alone with you. He's very appreciative of the thought, and will thank you more times than generally necessary.

"What? You.. you serious? Oh, naw.. I couldn't possibly—well, it's rude to turn it down..."

First stop; General store. You get him much better quality boots and he thanks you profusely. He feels bad about asking, but simply can't leave without buying Branwen a little treat; an apple or rice cake, nothing too much. Splits it in half when you exit the store and let's you feed your half to his horse, who is definitely a fan of the chin scratches you offer afterwards.

Followed up by a few quick drinks, some hope that a little alcohol in your bodies will help you both loosen up a bit, more-so Kieran who is still skittish.

Beers to start with a shot whiskey both.

Kieran scrunches his face slightly and you call him a wimp. This has him pouting at you; Which is adorable.

He's somewhere between a lightweight and a 'normal' drinker, but four beers seems to already make him a bit giddy and much more relaxed, much to your liking

Next, you're dragging him across the street to get yourselves both a room in the hotel and a bath. Instant flashback to John calling him a stinky O'Driscoll. </3

Minimal protest from Kieran, but he lets you do your thing.

You buy the bath for yourselves first and the room for later. You pay and lead Kieran to the reserved room. Locking the door after him and yourself, you lean on the door and wait for him to get in.

"What—in.. in front of you? You... can't exit for a minute.?"

You can't tell if he's getting red in the face from the alcohol consumption or current situation he's in. Either way, you think it's cute.

NSFW

He doesn't know if it's smarter to quickly strip and jump into the water, or to go slowly; you're staring at him either way.

He opts for a medium pace, very carefully handling his new boots and peeling his shirt off first. He's a bit scrawny and more pinkish than tan, light strawberry skin. He has minimal scarring on his body, nothing too serious.

His pants follow and he starts to nervously fumble with the restrains by now, feeling you still looking at him and eyeing every action he takes. He lets his trousers drop and follows with his drawls. You've probably never seen someone drop their underwear so quickly. He instantly jumps into the bath to keep himself at least partially decent—even after you've seen everything already.

He really enjoys higher temperature water since you can't much afford warm baths like these, so he's being very thankful as he basks in the soapy, hot water in front of you.

You lean off the door and walk to the bath. You fold and put his clothes away before rolling your sleeves up and sitting on the edge of the the tub behind him; like the bath girls do it. You've seen it enough times to know what to do.

You purposefully dip your hands very close to his thighs, sides and arms, throughly enjoying each and every time he squirms or grumbles a little whiny noise from inside his chest.

You rub his entire body, no crevice left untouched by your hands. It might be the hot water he's been soaking inside of, but you can feel just how much warmer his skin is with every touch of your hands caressing his whole frame.

You work your way from his shoulders down his torso, ask him to lift his legs and do those—all up to his stomach where you instead stand up, walk a few steps and lean over the tub.

You make sure to brush just barely out of reach when going over his stomach. He can't help throatily whining again, his head leaning back in frustration. This goes on for a few more minutes until you've physically touched every part of him—all but one very active part.

You got him a mess in the bathtub; sweating, whining, giving you pleading eyes. It's a goddamn sight that has you wanting to sling him over your shoulder and carry to your reserved room instantly.

"You can't just do all'a that... Don't be mean.."

You let him soak in his uncomfortableness for a good few minutes, watching him switch between pleased from the nice bath water to squirmy from lack of caring for his little problem.

"Please, don't leave me like this..."

God, those eyes could get you to do anything. You've never stumbled into a hotel room so quickly, having instantly gotten him decent and practically dragged him out of the baths.

Focused on him the rest of the night, doing anything he (silently) asked for and just putting your own, aching need aside for the time being

Micah bonus <3

SFW

Instantly declined at first, grumbling something about not needing your charity. Instantly agreed when you mentioned drinks at the saloon.

"Guess it wouldn't hurt, would it?"

You get him into town and start off in the gun store, obviously. You let him pick out three upgrades to his revolvers since you know he won't buy any new ones, he only ever really uses his own guns.

He's very satisfied, turning his guns in his hands and inspecting them with the new additions you got him.

You lead him towards the saloon next, for the promised drinks.

He drinks your wallet out with ease, shot after shot and he isn't even near drunk yet, comfortably tipsy at most.

You settle for two beers for yourself, and he teased you about the situation again.

"I'm on my fifth whiskey and you're still only drinking beers? Hah!"

You slap his shoulder and continue to drink, wanting to get to the best part rather quickly.

He downs his last whiskey and his empty glass settles next to your empty bottles, both of you leaving.

"What, a bath? That what you think I'll like?"

He's skeptical but agrees, might be nice to enjoy himself a bit more. And he probably stinks.

You get him inside and watch the smirk on his face when you buy a bath—and a room for later.

"Getting bold on me, are 'ya?"

You lock the two of you inside the bathroom and gesture for him to strip. You're still looking, and it just makes him laugh while slipping his coat off and placing his hat on a nearby table.

He doesn't mind you watching, it just grows the sly smile on his face furthermore.

He gets his naked body into the water and lets out a little "oooh" noise, his white eyelashes fluttering with his eyes as he takes in the bordering perfect temperature, relaxing into the tub behind him.

You watch him get in, blissful look on his usually grumpy face. He watches you with a smirk, asking if you'll be joining—joking about it, obviously.

NSFW

You leave him to enjoy the water for.. maybe three minutes, before you can't help yourself anymore.

His eyes go from lidded and content to wide and surprised, lips parted as he watched your undershirt get unbuttoned, revealing skin little by little.

He's very quick to compose himself, comfortably watching you strip yourself fully bare.

You manage to surprise him a second time by dipping yourself down on his abdomen, and the grin on his face just widens, his chuckle echoing through the bathroom.

"You're reeeally going all out on me tonight, huh?"

His hands quickly find your sides and, assuming consent, he starts touching up your entire form; waist, hips, thighs. He rubs his fingers up to the underside of your chest, your lower and upper back.

"'Ya know, you've taken real good care of me tonight, and I'm feelin' generous; let's return the favour, yeah?"

And that he without a doubt did; officially having no use for the room you bought anymore.

The tables get turned on you and he's quick to initiate some good ole bathtub intimacy.

That's the story of how you got banned from the hotel in Valentine because of a noise complaint. Multiple noise complaints. And a high water bill.

i love cowboys <3

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multifandomworldsposts · 11 months ago

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Day 14 of Kinkmas: In A Boat With Arthur Curry

Pairing: Arthur Curry x fem!reader

Warning: unprotected sex, hickeys

Y/N’s POV

Arthur has been wanting me to go on his new boat that he recently purchased and he’s just over the moon by it so I’m excited to get on it and see what’s going on with it!

“You like it?” He whispers in my ear while I look at the boat.

“I love it! It looks so cool!” I answer.

When we got on the boat Arthur gave me a tour. There’s seats in the front, the steering wheel on the boat looks interesting, there’s a bed in the boat, there’s a bar, and a really cool refrigerator at the bar. I’m excited what’s going to happen in the future with this boat.

“You wanna do a test drive?” He asks getting comfortable sitting on a chair that’s for the captain.

“Sure! Lead the way captain.” I say.

I can tell he likes that answer by him grinning.

He drives us around the ocean and I look out to see the ocean and it looks beautiful, some of the islands I saw that I’ve never seen before looked beautiful. I walk around to see other angles of the ocean and I went to see what Arthur is doing. When he realizes me, he reaches out to me so I can hug him while looking out to see the water.

“How do you feel about the view?” He says focusing on the water.

“It’s amazing, I’ve never been in this section of the ocean before, I love it Art.” I say looking at the view and then Arthur.

“I’m glad you like it, I wanna show you something.” He says driving into a small cove.

When we get into the cove and Arthur stops the boat and drops the anchor. I get confused, I didn’t see any food for a picnic. I don’t know what’s going on?

“What are we doing?” I ask.

“Let’s go somewhere private.” He whispers in my ear.

He walks down to a door that leads to the bed, I already know what’s going to happen. I follow him but he goes to bar and gets some champagne for me and some beer for him and pours them in glasses and gives me the champagne.

“Thank you.” I say taking the glass away from Arthur.

“I hope you’re liking what you’ve seeing out of the water.” He says drinking his beer.

“I love it and I was actually looking at you half of the time.” I say getting closer to him.

“Oh really? I never noticed.” He says looking down at me.

“You were paying attention to the water I believe.” I say.

He does this smirk. He begins to kiss me, I kiss him back, we both go to the bed together but we’re still kissing. We lay down on the bed which is so comfortable. Arthur takes his clothes off and helps me taking mine off.

We kiss again, he gives me pecks on my body, I kinda giggle but I gasp. I can feel him laughing on my skin but it makes me giggle again.

Eventually, we begin to have sex. I scratch his back by him going in and out of me. I scream by him fucking me hard and I can feel the bed shaking and banging on the wall. He eventually gives me hickeys. I give him some as well but I can tell someone is going to make fun of him by the scratches on him and the hickeys.

10 MINUTES LATER

We’re laying on the bed heavy breathing. That felt so nice to be honest. I want to do this again sometime, that was different than what we normally do.

#fanfic #fanfiction #kinkmas 2023 #kinkmas #arthur curry smut #arthur curry #jason momoa x reader #jason momoa imagines #jason momoa smut #jason momoa #dc #dc imagine #dc vs marvel

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meeks-just-wants-to-scroll · 4 months ago

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I KINDA HAD THE SAME IDEA with the low honor high honor thing! Im currently figuring exactly in what way the story would change [granted it does involve one of my ocs so maybe a lot more than it should] but its fun to think in what way Micah would be 'better' or more loyal to the gang

I feel like he'd still pick fights in camp, but like in a way older siblings would. Its more teasing/bullying and shit instead of straight up slurs. Idk, might just be me NNXJXJC

I also think he wouldn't go out of his way to help someone if they asked him to, but he'd watch them continue to struggle with mayne like a gun to the point where he like has to get up and be like 'OKAY you are so pathetically shit at this - im going to show you how to do this and we're not taking a break until you shoot 3 targets in a row' or something

I dont think he'd willingly be vulnerable anytime soon based on his upbringing and shit, but iiii like to think it happens sometimes accidentally idk JXJXJC

Weep weep weep this is making me wanna explore what RDR2 would be like if Micah was a marginally better person (mainly what id he never ratted).

i am glad we have converging ideas when it comes to high honor micah! I’ve talked with mutuals before on wtf micah could do that could be considered high honor, and we came up with little. One idea i suggested is that he accidentally saved people)s lives through his own selfishness (ex: saves someone from rabid dog because “if i didnt kill it, it would have gone for me next.”)

Micah's high honor is selfish in a unique way compared to low honor. Instead of focusing on himself and his survival, it more becomes a common goal to keep the gang as a whole surviving. He is no hunter, but he can bring in money and be a daaaaaamn good shot. Guard duties are often reserved for Lenny and Sean and Charles and whoever else is free. Micah *can* go on guard duty but keeps himself out of that tiresome job by being out of camp and bringing in money. “Sorry, can’t got on guard duty, I just got back from a stage coach robbery and I want to enjoy my well deserved relaxation.”

he is still a snarky sounding piece of shit, but like you said, he is less of a full on hateful man. He is still a sly, observing snake and studies the flaws of his gang mates, but he keeps his fangs sheethed. The idea with the snake animal for high honor is that Micah is still as lethal and capable of assholery as he is in bad honor, he is just deciding to not. He holds his venom to be inflicted on those who the gang need (or want) dead. He also leans into the snake vibes by being a slimy slithering manipulator. He isn’t a charmer, but he has a skill for talking people long enough to get plans into action (or to just backstab the enemy).

i feel like Morgan would still dislike Micah for being a man with bad vibes. Morgan is also just a hater sometimes (look at how he perceives Kieran). Micah still murders and has bad plans like Blackwater so it’s not like Arthur has *no* reason to distrust Micah.

i imagine high honor micah makes an effort on occasion to be involved in camp socializing, Sean and Jack’s return for example. He mainly drinks and flirts with the girls and boys at the event.

and because i like the red vs blue honor color association of the game, Micah’s design would be a little different, making the blue in his design a little more present. A neckerchief is an example of blue, but i am sure more blue could be worked into his design somewhere. Idea is that the ratio of red to blue in character’s designs can allude to how honorable they are (though it is not a 1:1 visualization). I imagine Micah would be 1:3 blue to red. Maayyybe. One quarter an okay man, three quarters a pretty sleazy man.

micah is still deeply troubled soooo no sweetie pie vulnerability for him! At most he tries to flirt (like asking Mary-Beth to dance) and the people are 1-2% more polite about turning him down when he’s high honor. He’s still all alone and his prickly exterior deeps people at arms length from him. He is both deeply dependent on attaching himself to a gang/someone to follow (my hc), but he also aspires to be independent and run his own gang. I suppose in high honor, he hopes to earnestly stick with the VDL gang and rise in the ranks by impressing Dutch (because Dutch is kind of an easy man to impress when you bootlick).

#I am sure i could write more #lol feel free to send more asks about high honor micah #Micah bell #rdr2 #rdr2 micah #micah rdr2 #asks #ask #answer #meeks rambles #Meek’s headcanons #red dead redemption 2 #High honor micah bell #Meek’s art

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emeritusemeritus · 1 year ago

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Just wanna bewitch you in the moonlight. Pt 11.

[Fred Weasley x Reader x George Weasley]

Part 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12

Title: Just wanna bewitch you in the moonlight.

Pairing: Fred Weasley x Reader x George Weasley

Timeline: Predominately set between GOF and OOTP (some canon has been altered to fit the story)

Summary: Both twins like Gryffindor!reader. Reader likes both twins. How will she decide who to chose in the end? Amortentia might be able to help, or not.

Warnings: Smut, oral sex, p in v sex, established relationships, threesomes, friends to lovers, all the good stuff. NO Twincest. Mentions of illness, Brief mentions of vomiting. Tiny bit of angst, possessiveness, talk of kids. Mentions of dominant behaviour. Snape has a soft spot for reader. Love potions? But none are actually used. Threesomes, MMF Threesome, again No Twincest. Not beta-read nor spell checked, we die like Sirius ❤️

This chapter took on a life of it’s own and I’m not remotely sorry. I need a very cold shower now. 🌹

You walked out of the coffee shop feeling revitalised and refreshed from seeing your muggle best friend and her dad. You felt like you'd been recharged back in the muggle world and were excited to go back to the wizarding world once again. The small ounce of guilt at still not being able to chose between the twins was still present inside of you, the angst sitting at the base of your stomach never quite extinguishing itself, but for now it was manageable.

You'd been gone quite a while and you knew the twins would be waiting for you somewhere so you scurried out of the cafe and threw your arms around your friend as you both babbled about missing each other and seeing each other soon.

Adam pulled you into a hug as you said goodbye and as you pulled away, you noticed two figures off in the distance, a familiar shade of red flashing in your mind.

You grabbed Val by the hand as you pulled away from Adam and subtly nodded towards where the twins were stood trying to be subtle about watching and waiting for you. She lets out a small gasp and pulls you in for a hug again, whispering in your ear, "that's them?! They're so tall! No wonder you can't chose!"

You laugh and say goodbye again, telling her that you'd write, reminding her once again that your 'boarding school' is Scotland doesn't allow telephones.

You make your way over to the twins who have wide smiles on their faces as you approach.

"Enjoy seeing your friend princess?" Fred asks, as George suspiciously bumps your hand against his, as if he intended to hold it.

"It was great thank you, I'm sorry if I'm late," you apologise, walking instep with them as you head back towards Diagon alley. You reach to take your bag from George's shoulder but he doesn't let you carry it, responding to your protests with an overly innocent smile. You notice they've bought a couple of bits from the joke shop, namely the no heat fireworks.

Upon returning to Diagon alley, you nipped into sugarplum's sweet shop to get a box of chocolates for Molly and Arthur as a little thank you gift for taking you in this week, managing to get a selection box full of Molly's favourites. You only hoped they didn't melt in the heat on the way home.

You found Harry, Ginny and Ron a little while later outside of Wiseacre's and had all set out to meet Molly and Arthur, ready to return home. As you were walking down the street, Fred mumbled something to George and they walked off ahead looking at a boarded up shop at the top of the street, one that you'd never really noticed before, next to the quidditch supply shop and a few shops up from Ollivanders.

Just as you walked around the corner towards the leaky cauldron a few fat drops of rain hit you unexpectedly. Within mere seconds, a loud crack above you rang out and all the heavens opened up, instantly soaking you all. Everyone fled like their life depended on it, desperate to get out of the rain that was bucketing it down.

Ginny squealed as you all ran straight towards the leaky cauldron where you'd planned to meet their parents, narrowly avoiding the dangerous, slippy cobblestones. George grabbed your hand as you ran, ensuring you stayed close by him and not getting caught up or pulled away in the rush of others fleeing.

You finally made it to the leaky cauldron and heaved a breath of relief as you ran under the shelter, each of you soaked to the skin. You began laughing at the sudden turn of events as you looked at your friends, seeing that they all looked like drowned rats.

Ron's hair was stuck flat to his face, Ginny looked horrified as she tried to ring out her hair whilst Harry attempted to de-fog his glasses, shaking his shoulders to try and get off excess water.

Fred and George were vigorously shaking their heads in the corner, like dogs to try and dry their long hair a little, unbothered by who might be on the receiving end of their splattering.

"Are you sure you're not animagi?" You joked as they stopped whipping their hair about.

You pulled the hair bobbles out of your hair and untangled your wet braids, hoping to release a little of the water and checked your clothes, ringing out the bottom of your skirt in a sad attempt to dry off.

Arthur barked out a laugh as you all rounded the corner and saw them sat at one of the large family style tables whilst Molly at least attempted to stifle her laugh. With a flick of her wand, you were all dried immediately, now just looking entirely unkempt as you made your way to the car.

When you arrived back at the Burrow, the rain was still going strong, the blistering sun and heat of the day just a memory now as it tipped it down with no sign of stopping.

Molly had been to the little street vendor just outside Diagon Alley and had collected a selection of vegetables for dinner and immediately set to washing and chopping them up when you returned. You offered to help her but she declined, telling you to go with your friends and have fun. You had flicked the kettle on to make a cup of tea, wanting something warming and soothing after getting wet in the rain and made sure to secretly make her one too, just as a small token of appreciation. You left it next to the chopping board as she nipped into the pantry, just so she'd know it was for her.

When you turned back to the lounge, the twins weren't there and so you made your way up to their bedroom, pausing briefly to knock on the door before you entered.

"What are you two plotting?" You asked, seeing them huddled around on the bed, their purchases from the day laid out in front of them. You closed the door and walked straight to their chest of drawers and pulled out one of their big sweaters that you wanted to wear, the softest one you could find. You peeled off your little summer top and then your bra, wanting to feel comfortable and cozy as the rain carried on and then slipped the soft, green jumper over your body. You couldn't help but lift the sleeve of the jumper up to your nose and try to subtly smell the comforting blend of them both, feeling cosier already.

When you turned slightly, you felt their eyes upon you; they were watching you with rapt attention, clearly not missing you getting undressed or your little weird smell test. You switched out your socks for a pair of big, fluffy ones, wiggling your toes at the overwhelming comfort you felt. You blushed under their gaze and bent down to reach for a big claw clip you kept in your case, clipping back your hair until you showered later. You kept your skirt on from earlier, still wanting to feel a little cute and turned to climb onto the bed with them, sensing that they were watching your every move.

"What?" You asked as you climbed onto the bed, noticing their eyes still trained on you.

"Has she ever looked more beautiful to you?" Fred says to George who shakes his head in reply.

"Didn't think it was possible," he answers, looking utterly smitten. You have to fight the blush that threatens to break out over your face as you tell them to stop.

"Have you two accidentally drank some love potions?" You joke, reaching out to grab the firework they'd procured from the joke shop, looking it over.

"Don't need it princess," Fred says smugly, reaching out for you as he pulls you closer, sliding you across the bed until you nearly end up in his lap. As he drags you, your skirt flips up and exposed your lilac, lace panties which George openly stares at. You rush to cover yourself again as Fred begins kissing your neck, enjoying the sight and feel of you squirming in his lap. You laugh as his kisses turn to blowing raspberries on your neck and manage to break free, sitting down beside him as you lounge on the bed.

"Think your mum would mind if I had a bath later? The rain makes me feel so cozy." You ask, stretching out your legs as he lean back against Fred's pillows.

"Sure she wouldn't mind angel," George says, as Fred simply shrugs, focusing back on the fireworks in front of them. You pull out your book from off the bedside table and begin reading, knowing that they didn't need your help right now.

"George focus," Fred says sharply after a minute or two as they tinker about. You look over to the squabbling siblings and see George rapidly blinking, as if he's trying to focus himself. His hips move subtly in a way you know exactly what it means as you notice the way he's slightly hunched over, making a little grin appear on your face as you think of the ways you could mess with him.

"Georgie, everything alright?" You put on your most innocent look at you s glance at him with doe eyes, biting your lip for effect as your voice drips smoothly like caramel. You don't miss the slight widening of his eyes at your voice and of your words as he fumbles for a reply. His hips shift again and you move your sock covered foot and smooth leg to rub against his clothed thigh, opening your legs with the movement and 'accidentally' flashing the crotch of your panties to him.

"Merlin," he mutters as he catches sight of your light purple panties underneath your skirt and you knew right then that you'd got him. He adjusts himself in his trousers, wiggling his hips once again, still trying to hide the fact that he's hard.

"Oi, what's up with you?" Fred says, completely oblivious, briefly looking up towards his brothers face before going back to his project.

George's gaze suddenly slips to your face and catches your smug little smirk, realising then that you'd been playing him all along. Without a moments hesitation, he lunges for you and reaches out to grab your ankles, pulling you closer to him and exposing your panties once again as your skirt rides up with the movement.

"Little minx trying to rile me up, think you could get away with it that easily?" He asks darkly as his long, deft fingers begin to stroke your exposed thighs, the sensation alone making your nipples harden under their sweater. Dominant George was not something you often encountered but by god it was arousing when it came out. "It is just a game for you, trying to get me hard and aching in my trousers?"

"No, no Georgie," you say weakly, though he can see straight through it.

"Tell me right now why I shouldn't bend you over my knee and spank you, right here in front of Fred," he says, gripping onto your thighs. You gasp, mind going blank at the very thought as your arousal pools, starting to seep into your panties.

Suddenly he smirks and looks down at you with a dark grin. "Seems to me that's exactly what you want, so why should I make it easy for you?"

He suddenly throws your legs off of him, pulling away and leaving you aroused and exposed on the bed. You have to fight back a whine at the sudden loss of contact but you just about manage to stay silent as you look up at him with wide, pleading eyes.

"Be good for us and you'll get what you need later."

Just like that, the moment is over and you're reeling, wondering how exactly you teasing George had turned into you dripping wet and without any satisfaction, the lingering feeling of his hands on your thighs only worsening your problem. You turn your head to see George has left the room and you're alone with Fred on the bed.

"Don't look at me for help princess, you started it teasing Georgie," he says, sensing your gaze at him. You huff and roll over onto your front, not even bothering to flip your skirt back down. George comes back in a few minutes later and you hardly acknowledge each other, a strange tension passing between you both as neither of you know how to communicate after your little interaction.

A little while later, Fred curses as one of the fireworks slips out of his hands and immediately ignites on the floor, sparking it and omitting a loud whine as it crackles. George immediately pulls you closer to him, straight onto his lap, trying to shield you from the incoming explosion as Fred dives out of the way.

The room is immediately filled with noise and pyrotechnics, prisms of colour and shapes sparking and exploding midair as it flies around the room at high velocity, bouncing off the walls and nearly knocking down the books on the top bookshelf in the corner. Eventually it begins to slow, the noise fading to a quiet whine as it begins to crackle and splinter until it erupts into a loud bang, the last remaining gunpowder detonating into a resounding bang as coloured powder explodes from within it. The powder magically fades and settles into the air, leaving a smog in the small room that lingers for minutes after.

You immediately hear Molly yelling as she climbs the stairs, her voice getting louder and louder with her approach as she begins calling the twins names with vengeance.

She slams open the door, already fired up and yelling at the boys, pausing only briefly when she sees you in George's lap, clearly him protecting you from the firework, shock evident on both of your faces. You fight to climb off of him, having to act neutral and you immediately apologise to her, telling her it was an accident.

She softens a little, seeing your remorse the slight fear in your eyes from the surprise of the firework before turning to the boys who now stand together, pointing and wagging her finger at them, berating them for setting off the firework inside.

"Sorry mum," they mumble in unison, looking down at the floor in remorse which you doubted was real, until Molly walked out of the door, telling you that tea was almost ready.

"Well at least we know not to drop them," Fred chuckles, moving the other fireworks to the desk, handling them a little more carefully now.

George moves to stand behind you, slipping his hand down to your bum underneath your skirt, giving you a little fright at the unexpected contact.

"Don't think I've forgotten earlier Angel," he whispers in your ear, patting your bum gently, making you immediately want to squeeze your thighs together for a hint of relief.

Molly calls you all for tea and you sit beside the twins as you eat the delicious chicken and vegetable stew she'd made from the fresh veg she'd bought earlier. The main chatter is about the torrential rain that had still not stopped nor slowed all evening, a stark contrast to the hot summer day you'd expected. As the meal comes to an end, you ask Molly if she'd mind you having a bath rather than a shower and she of course agrees, even going as far as to tell you where her best bath salts and oils were if you wanted to use them.

After dinner you walked into the twin's room to gather some bits for your bath, fresh pyjamas, panties and your hairbrush when George walked in without Fred, giving you a smug little look.

"I want you to do something for me, Angel," he says, grabbing something off the desk before walking up to you and linking your free hand with his.

"Anything Georgie."

He leans down and whispers in your ear, dangerously close and low in tone, "don't touch yourself in the bath... I'll know."

He then parts your hands and walks back out of the door, shooting you a little wink as he exits, "enjoy your bath."

You take a deep breath once George had left, steadying yourself from the overwhelming arousal coursing through your body. You'd been a little on edge since your altercation earlier and you felt like you were on a hair trigger now.

You huffed out a breath and set off towards the bathroom, closing and locking the door behind you as you began to run the bath, adding a few bath oils that Molly had told you to use earlier. You kept the claw clip in your hair and stripped down, placing your fresh clothes on the little, wooden chair whilst your old ones were strewn carelessly on the floor, everything except the twins' jumper, that was hung against the back of the chair. When the bath was the perfect temperature, you stepped in and felt yourself relax almost instantly.

The hot water, soothing oils and the sound of the heavy rain falling against the roof was enough to make you feel cozy and relaxed, your naked body shifting down in the water until only the tops of your breasts were visible. You laid there and thought back to the day you'd had, smiling as you thought of Val and finally seeing her again. But then you remembered the little tally and the questions of trying to chose and your face fell again, reminding you of the inevitable expiry date on one, if not both, of your relationships.

You tried to think of something else to push down these negative thoughts and immediately thought of George earlier and the promise you'd made. Truthfully, you'd had no intention of touching yourself whilst you were in the bath but it seemed that his words, the low whisper into your ear and the dominant actions earlier had all fuelled a fire within you so that now it was the only thing you could think about.

Your nipples began to harden in the water, just poking out from the layer of bubbles on the surface as you thought of George and by extension, Fred. You were suddenly overwhelmingly aware that you were completely naked, aroused and completely bare and there truly was nothing to stop you from slipping your hand down between your legs if you wanted to, but you couldn't.

You wanted your boyfriends desperately, needing a resolve to your erotic torment and the slight risk that you wouldn't get what you needed was enough to stop your hand from wandering, instead choosing to push those aroused thoughts from your mind and focus on the pitter patter of the rain. It didn't work and suddenly your nice and relaxing bath turned to be a mere obstacle to the pleasure you craved.

You quickly pulled the plug out of the bath allowing the water to drain as you stepped out and into a big fluffy towel. You shot a look at your clothes on the chair and thought twice, gathering them in your arms rather than putting them on, seeing them as only one more barrier.

You crept down to the twins room, opening and closing the door behind you as they looked at you in surprise at your lack of clothes, though the towel covered everything.

"Did you enjoy your bath princess?" Fred asks innocently, though his tone conveying the same thing. He looks like he can barely contain a knowing smirk, much like his very smug looking brother.

"It was lovely thank you," you said, not biting. You walked over to the hamper and threw your dirty clothes in, including their jumper from today and instead of dressing, you bent down to reach for something in your case, absently searching as your mind considered all the possibilities on how you were going to seduce them.

You'd first go for the easy, straight shot. You knew they were watching you, you could feel the heat of their gazes upon your skin and so you bit back a smirk, reached up to pull the clip out of your hair, loosened your towel just slightly at the top and moved to stand up. Of course, your loosely wrapped towel couldn't withstand the movement and as you stood up straight, the towel fell completely off, landing in a heap at your feet. You let out a well timed gasp as if you were reacting and pretended to scramble for the towel one again.

"Merlin," both boys cursed as they watched your towel fall, seeing you deliciously nude before them.

"Angel, come here," George said in a clipped tone, not leaving any metaphorical room for you to protest. As you tired to pick up the towel, he added, "you don't need that."

You made your way over to George and felt a strange nervousness in the act, never having been so fully bare in front of both twins before, your body on display and your relationship with both completely bare for either to see. You'd teased each other and kissed, cuddled and so on with the other twin there but you'd never taken the next step in front of the other so this was all new.

"Look at you," George muses as you move to stand behind the bed where he's sitting on the edge, his hands immediately running over your hips as his eyes struggle to focus on just one part of your nude body, eventually focusing on your breasts that are perked up in front of his face. "So beautiful," he adds, one hand coming up to entwine with yours before he drags you onto the bed, keeping your hands together at all times.

You lie beneath the brothers who both look like they could eat you for supper, their greeny brown eyes darkening and dangerously arousing looks washing over their faces.

"We've been talking, princess," Fred says, leaning closer to you in the bed, his hand coming up to brush your hair back from your face. "You left Georgie all riled up and it was a little unfair wasn't it." His hand slowly creeps down onto your shoulder and across your chest, stroking little patterns into your skin. "And me, well I felt a little left out princess. So we decided that if you want us, both, with you right now," he teases, soft fingers slipping down to the curve of your breast, "you can have all of us together."

"So no one is left out," George adds softly, his other hand that isn't entwined with yours begins to tease your other breast, fingers circling but never directly touching your pebbled nipple.

Their words cause a wave of fresh arousal to wash over you and you can't help but squirm just a little at the overwhelming sensation, your dripping pussy desperate for relief.

"What do you think Georgie, do your think she wants it?" Fred teases, seeing your hips squirming at their words.

"I'd say so Freddie," George adds, the same teasing tone to his voice, "look at her little nipples, already so hard for us." George drags his middle finger over your nipple and you can't hide the gasp that slips out at the delicious contact.

"Need you to say it princess," Fred says, his own fingers reaching down to playfully pluck at your other nipple, "do you want us both?"

"Yes, godric, yes," you moan, no longer denying yourself, writhing in anticipation. George squeezes your hand lightly in acknowledgement before both brothers look at each other and let out a perfectly synchronised chuckle.

They immediately both latch onto your breasts and begin their attack, Fred sucking hard on your left nipple whilst George kisses around your right, his tongue lapping over the nipple every couple of seconds. Your hips surge again and you try to rub your thighs together for relief.

"Ah ah ah," Fred teases, slipping his right hand down to your thighs, pulling them apart and exposing your wet pussy to the room as he holds your thigh in place, "be patient sweetheart, we've got you." You can't help the little whine that escapes you, his words and their joint actions eliciting a desperate noise to fall from your mouth.

"Think she's good and wet for us Fred?" George asks, his hand squeezing your breast as he begins to suck at your sensitive nipple.

You feel Fred's hand creep up your thigh until he touches your unobstructed slit, instantly feeling the wetness there, so much that it's clinging to the inside of your thighs and pooling on the bedsheets below.

"Merlin princess," Fred curses, feeling just how aroused you are. "I think she likes this Georgie."

"She's not the only one," he mumbles into your breast, reaching down to openly adjust himself in his trousers.

"What do you need baby? Want Fred to put his fingers in you?" George whispers, eliciting another whimper from you as you nod, your hand free reaching out to touch Fred's chest, as if trying to summon him closer. Fred chuckles at your reaction as his fingers begin to run through your soaked pussy folds, dragging the wetness around until he slowly sinks one of his long, perfect fingers into your heat. George captures your lips just in time to stop you from moaning too loudly as Fred's fingers begin slowly pumping inside of you, first one and then a second one just a few moments later. George kisses you with such passion that your knees fall completely open, resting against the legs of each boy as Fred's fingers bring you higher and higher. His thumb makes contact with your sensitive nub and you keen into George's mouth.

You break your hand away from George's and begin running each hand over their chests and down their torsos, desperate to feel them. Your hips surge again as you reach out and feel both of their cocks bulging in their trousers, just as Fred's fingers hook up inside you and touch the magical spot that makes your eyes roll back. You begin to paw at their trouser fixings, well past being able to undo their buttons and the boys instantly take notice and fumble to pull off their clothes. George was already shirtless so that was one obstacle out of the way and Fred slings his T-shirt away with the rest of his clothes as you all lie naked on the bed, completely bare for each other.

Fred's fingers immediately find their way back to your waiting pussy and your hands reach down to grab hold of their cocks, feeling the delicious weight of them in your palms. They moan in unison as you slowly begin pumping them, your pleasure only increasing with their own. George kisses you again as his hands wander on your body, never moving far from your breasts as Fred begins to suck at your neck, breathing heavily and mumbling broken curses into your skin as you continue to pump them, gaining a little speed just how you knew they liked.

"I need to taste you," George moans into your mouth as you run your thumb over their sensitive tips as you stroke, smirking as you feel the beads of precum leaking from both of them.

Fred hears his brother's words and slips his fingers out of you, beginning to manoeuvre you so that you were on your hands and knees. He lies beneath you, his beautifully hard cock straining against his belly as George slips behind you, lying between Fred's shins so that you could put your wet heat directly over his face. He grabs you by the hips once he's in position and immediately latches onto your pussy, moaning at the taste of your evident arousal. His tongue laps at all your little folds, sucking each labia into his mouth as he teases you before kissing your little hole. He then runs his tongue up your slit and latches onto your clit, giving it little teasing sucks as his tongue swirls around it, making you want to scream. Fred pulls forward, anticipating it and captures your lips just in time, swallowing your moan as your eyes close in sheer bliss.

George is like a man addicted, leaving no part of your pussy unattended as he licks, kisses and sucks with perfect precision. He begins lazily tasting you, teasing you as he feels you beginning to climax, wanting to hold off on your orgasm for a little while longer.

You push Fred back down onto the bed by his chest and eagerly look at his abandoned cock, seeing the deep pink tone, the rigid hardness and the bulging vein underneath and you can't help but reach out at grab him at the base. You slowly shift your body down so that George could still feast on you whilst you aligned yourself with Fred's cock.

You tentatively stretched out your tongue and licked away the little dribble of precum from his tip as he groaned loudly. Swirling your tongue around his tip, you looked up at him and saw that his eyes were squeezed shut, head thrown back as he enjoyed your movements. You gently squeezed his cock, forcing him to look up at you as you held eye contact with him and slowly sunk down on his length, taking him as far as you could as you sucked. He let out another moan and squeezed his eyes shut as you began sucking up and down his length on a rhythm you know he loved. You couldn't take you're eyes off of him, fixated on his pleasure filled face and heaving chest as your left hand moved to grab his hand, entwining your fingers. Resting on your elbow, you were able to pump the base of him with your hand, working in sync with your mouth to leave no single spot of his cock untouched. You flattened your tongue and ran a stripe down his length and towards his balls, sucking each one delicately into your mouth as your hand reached up to pump him again, focusing on his tip and just under his ridge. His chest was heaving, face flushed red as he bit down on his lip hard to stop from shouting, his gaze alternating between looking at you with wide, adoring eyes and squeezing tightly shut to avoid cumming too soon.

George's slow licking and sucking fixed on your clit again and you couldn't help but slowly begin to roll your hips in time with your sucking, rocking your hips over George's face as he moaned. His hands were gripping your bum hard, spreading your cheeks and massaging the skin. His hand lifted off of you for a brief second before coming down hard and sparking your right cheek, eliciting a gasp and a moan from you, all of which vibrated into Fred's cock, causing him to moan.

You pulled off of Fred just briefly to cry out, "please, want you inside, need it." You had no idea who you were asking, not caring enough to decide right now as you fought off your climax. George immediately pulled away from you and switched places with his twin, sliding in in front of you whilst Fred knelt on the bed behind you.

George kissed you passionately and you could taste your own arousal on his tongue, making you involuntarily clench. You reached your hand down and began stroking him, leaning over to spit onto his cock to lubricate it, his head falling back onto his shoulders at the sexy action. You couldn't help but pump his perfect cock, paying close attention to the delicious little upward curve he had, swiping his precum with your thumb before bringing it to your lips for a taste, watching as his mouth opened and his eyes looked at you in adoration, glassy with arousal.

"You ready for me princess?" You heard Fred say from behind you as he lined himself up, stroking his cock through your wet folds as you moaned out. It dragged across your clit perfectly and you couldn't help but roll your hips trying to make more and more contact. He suddenly slipped into you and pulled your hips back all the way so that he was buried deep within you, your head tossing back in pleasure at the sensation of finally feeling full.

Fred's hips rolled at he plunged himself into you with an eye rolling intensity, both of you already so worked up from your foreplay. You could help but moan as his cock hit all the right spots inside you, stretching you out and making your knees shake. George saw how close you were to crying out and immediately pressed his thumb to your lips for you to suck on. You continued pumping him again as you looked straight into his eyes, both of you wordlessly conversing as you looked at eachother, silently showing the other everything you felt, even as you were getting railed by his twin.

You felt Fred shift behind you, kneeling forward as his hand snaked around your hip to bring his long fingers to pluck at your sensitive, swollen nub. You sucked hard on George's thumb to stop your moans from spilling out as you stoked him quickly, paying perfect attention to his sensitive tip. His other hand groped and massaged your swaying tits, pinching and toying with your hard nipples as you keened, hips rolling against Fred as you fucked your self on his cock.

You could feel your climax building as Fred railed into you, hips stuttering as he reached his own end, curses and moans growled into the air as his fingers expertly circled your clit. Your walls clenched hard on him as your orgasm overtook you, clamping down around his twitching cock as he slammed your hips into his one last time. He held you tightly to him as his length twitched inside of you, spouting ropes of hot cum deep within you, your clenching walls milking every drop as he groaned your name.

Instantly needing more, you shifted your hips so that you were lying almost flat on the bed, Fred's cock still buried inside you as you took George's waiting length into your mouth, moaning around him at the taste. He cursed and instantly reached up to grab your hair, keeping it out of your face as he watched his cock disappearing between your lips.

Fred had begun slowly rocking into you again, your over sensitive pussy and his cock twitching at the overstimulated that drove you both crazy before he slowly pulled out, falling limply onto the bed. You could feel his cum begin to drip out, knowing what that did to him and it only fuelled your passion for the brothers even more.

George suddenly pulled you off his cock and threw you onto the bed so that you were lying down as he towered above you, cock hard and leaking as he shifted your legs onto his shoulders.

He plunged into you without warning and you cried out before clamping down on your bottom lip to stifle the cries. In this position the slight curve of his cock hit just the right spot, dragging along the spongy part inside you that had you seeing stars as he thrust deeper and deeper inside of you until you were sure he was in your tummy. His hands reached up to cup your bouncing breasts at your hands grabbed and scratched at his shoulders, overwhelmed by the insane pleasure. His hair fell in front of his face as he thrusted and you tried to keep it out of his face as he leaned down to kiss you, all sloppy tongues and teeth, desperately taking what he could from you.

You couldn't help but feel the pleasure building again, only fuelled more as he pulled back and Fred's hand ghosted across your tummy and down to your clit as he rubbed in short, sharp circles. Your walls began clenching again and George cried out a mixture of curses and 'angel's' as his own climax crested. You came suddenly, the white hot heat taking over your body as his hips dove into you with an astounding force, your body folded up like a pretzel as he came with a silent roar, never once stopping his brutal thrusting.

Fred's hand pulled away from your overstimulated clit as soon as he knew you'd ridden out your pleasure and when George pulled out and slipped your legs down, you fell limply back onto the bed in a pile of mush.

You could feel George's cum mix with Fred's as it leaked out of you, onto your ass and then onto the already slick bedsheets as you fought to catch your breath. George fell onto the bed on your other side, leaving you sandwiched once again between the twins, each of you naked, flushed and more satisfied than you'd ever felt.

George's softening cock was pressed to your thigh, smearing the last remnants of his cum and tour arousal onto your skin as Fred reached up to turn your head towards him. He gave you a sensual kiss, hand grabbed around the curve of your jaw as he kissed you passionately, linking your right hand with his. George also linked your other hand with his own and turned you to him to capture your lips once you'd broken away from Fred.

You had no sense of time or space anymore, the only sign that it was late were the dark, rainy skies outside the window. The rain had never stopped and had only served as background white noise to your activities, the constant falling drops the only noise you could hear right now as you all recovered from your activities.

"Can we do that everyday?" You said dreamily, breaking the comfortable silence. You felt George chuckle against you, his body pressed more tightly to your side than Fred who was lounging on his back, one hand still entwined with yourself whilst his other arm covered his eyes.

"Happily," Fred mumbles, turning and pressing himself closer to you. "I don't think I've ever cum that hard and that's saying something with you princess." If you were more aware of things you'd probably blush at his praise but you were still off in dreamland after being fucked silly.

"Agreed," George adds, "bloody hell." He rubs his hands over his face, the ghost of his blissful smile still etched upon his features.

The back of your mind tells you to get up, clean yourself and get dressed but you're frozen in the moment, mind vacant and calm as you snuggle into your boyfriends sides.

Time passes and you all eventually moved to het cleaned off and dressed into your nightwear as you lounge around the room, chatting and reading well into the night until you all climb into bed to sleep. The twins had changed the sheets whilst you went and cleaned up and Fred had thought to spill a little pumpkin juice on the sheets so that it wouldn't seem suspicious that the sheets were needing to be washed again.

Later that night after goodnight kisses, you were cuddled into Fred's chest with George's body pressed tightly against your back, his arm slung around you as you laid awake, listening to their steady breathing and little soft snores, mostly from George behind you. You felt completely at peace, with both of them surrounding you and the rain pouring down outside the window. The three of you completely in sync with no battle in your heart between the both, loved equal in every sense.

You wished it could be like this all the time, just three souls linked together in harmony. It was always best when the three of you were together; Fred and George were the other half of each other, complimenting and completing each other, always in sync and you fit in with them perfectly. The threesome you'd just had was a perfect example of that. Would you be happier if you didn't have to chose?

You didn't know how it would even work but it was a much better thought then having to choose between the two boys you loved.

#emeritusemeritus #fred weasley #fred weasley x you #harry potter #fred weasley x reader #emeritusemerituswrites #fred weasley imagine #george weasley x you #george weasley #fred weasley masterlist #weasley twins x reader #george weasley x reader x fred weasley #george weasley smut

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crowleywowley · 1 year ago

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BACK ON IT WIT DA HEADCANONS 🗣️🗣️🗣️🗣️

Y’all already know what tf is going on. Modern AU, silly headcanons, everyone is alive and well, blah blah blah.

Previous sillies: 1 2 3 4 5

Aight see u unda da cut 😼

-John definitely cried at the dinner table trying to do his math homework with Dutch

Dutch is absolutely like ‘WHY WOULD THEY CHANGE THE WAY THEY DO MATH!!!!!’ While John is like “I😭don’t😭know😭😭”

-John joined the middle school track team but ate shit on the hurdles so he quit

-John was absolutely the kid who always leaned back in his chair

He fell once and hit his head and to this day that teacher uses him as an example

-John was a pain in Arthur’s ass but when Arthur was a senior and John was a freshman Arthur beat up some kids for being mean to his baby brother :((((

-Jack is a Roblox kid for SUREEEE

John used to play it with him but the obbys pissed him off so much he had to take a walk

-Jack was also a Percy Jackson kid. Argue with the wall!!!!

-during Jack’s wannabe emo phase he got a fake earring and it gave him an allergic reaction

He cried :(

John and Abi, being reformed emo kids, held in their laughter until that night after Jack went to sleep

-speaking of emo. John definitely had shaggy long hair that he parted so it was across his forehead, and Abigail had cool bangs with like blue tips or something

She definitely put eyeliner on him at some point

They both had MySpace usernames like Xx._Fallen.Angel._xX

-Abigail has more than one stupid stick and poke tattoo that John gave her when they were like 19

They are CORNY and POORLY DONE but she secretly loves them :’)

-Despite being the younger of the two Dutch is much less tech-literate than Hosea

He understands Facebook. It’s one of like… 3 apps on his phone

His camera roll is filled with accidental photos

-these two have SO MANY DECORATIVE PILLOWS

-Hosea is such a Frank Sinatra lover!!!!!!!

They danced to Strangers in the Night at their wedding :’)

-Hosea was absolutely the parent that’s sitting in the dark when their kid tries to sneak out and they’re like “going somewhere?”

-shoutout to this person because YEAH

-a crazy night in the Morgan-Smith household means staying up until 10:00 PM watching a documentary about whales

-both of these men are the biggest babies when they’re sick. Common cold = death

-if Jack was a Percy Jackson kid then Isaac was probably into Ancient Egypt or dinosaurs

Charles and Arthur are good dads so they listen to him spew facts and they’re like “wow! Cool, buddy!!!!!”

Even now that he’s a teenager they still remember random facts :)

-Arthur LIVES for unbuckling his belt and settling into a recliner after a big meal

-These fools are so in love and constantly bring each other trinkets :’)

“Saw this and thought of you” and it’s like a mystery Lego pack

I think we’ll stop there for tonight but hehehehe I love these soooo much. Does anyone want me to start bringing OTHER characters into this universe😲??? or do we wanna just keep it to the VanDerMatthews/Marston family/Charthur cinematic universe. Y’all know I can get silly and funky with anyone.

ALSO!!!!!! If anyone has an idea for a name of this universe plzzzzz let me know bc I think that would be fun :D okay bye!!!!!!

#as always please ignore my tags it’s humiliating #rdr2 modern au #charthur #vandermatthews #john x abigail #arthur morgan #charles smith #john marston #jack marston #abigail marston #abigail roberts #charthur headcanon #arthur morgan headcanons #john marston headcanons

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the-face-in-the-mirror · 7 months ago

Text

After a few days, our boy is finally here! Because Arthur needs some more love than what he actually gets in this series.

Arthur gets a simpler redesign this time, fixing those funny-looking bangs to look more natural and changing his eye color; something about the purple eyes didn't appeal to me. The simplicity of Arthur's design mostly comes from the fact that, when we meet him, he hasn't pulled the sword from the stone yet and, therefore, is not the king of Camelot. The outfit makes him relatively unassuming to others and represents his more peasant-like upbringing while still having an air of sophistication curated by Merlin's influence.

While I was absolutely thrilled when Arthur showed up in canon, it felt extremely sudden and almost out of nowhere. Plus, Arthur just kind of seems to exist in a borderline vacuum and just sort of... does things every now and again? Basically, I wanna add more substance to him.

Therefore, Arthur is getting an actual plotline and arc this time! He gets insecurities about being king, which he probably discusses with King, who has a similar character arc in this rewrite, and we actually get to see his relationship with Merlin. I imagine he and Elizabeth could have a nice friendship, too, where she helps coach him on how to better suit the role of royalty once he gets crowned king of Camelot. As for the neck scars, I've decided that Arthur gets to have some traumatic backstory this time that isn't just his adoptive older brother being mean to him. You know, as a treat.

I also plan for him to be a bit older in this rewrite, probably about 18/19 or somewhere around there. He's not totally a kid, but he's still very young to be a ruler of anything; plus, it makes more sense if I decide to go the Zelthur/Gelthurdris route since, I will admit, those ships had me in a chokehold for a while back in the day and could be really sweet and tragic if played right. We'll see how things go.

I think that's all for Arthur right now. I hope you enjoy it, and let me know if you got any questions! I'll see you all later!

#seven deadly sins #nanatsu no taizai #Arthur I'm so sorry baby it's your turn with the suffering #nnt #sds #nnt arthur #sds arthur #arthur pendragon #nnt rewrite #nnt canon rewrite #nnt rewrite comic #sds rewrite #sds canon rewrite #sds rewrite comic #IT'S DINNER TIME YA'LL #OUR BABY HAS A STORY THIS TIME

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immajustvibehere · 1 year ago

Note

Hi there! You’re stuff is always sooo good! I saw your post asking for some inspo.

What if Arthur has a special night planned with the reader, but he has a bunch of tasks to do before he is free to meet her? The whole day goes from one bad job to then next, and all he wants to do is meet her later for this perfect night. And when he finally gets to the hotel where he’s supposed to meet her, he’s filthy, banged up, and exhausted. He has lost almost all his money that he needed to treat her to a perfect night by the time he gets there.

How would it go from there?

Simple Nights Spent Together

Pairing: Arthur Morgan x gn!Reader

Summary: Reader wants Arthur to understand that every time they get to spend with him is precious :)

fluffy little good night story, thanks for the request!

1100 words, less than 10 minutes reading time

Arthur slowly opened the door to the hotel room he knew you’d to be in. This was the same room the two of you always occupied whenever you managed to snatch a few precious moments away from camp, often for some undisturbed intimacy. But today turned out slightly different than normally. The day didn't really go according to plan and now Arthur felt like he had failed you. Before he gave the door a final push, he looked at himself. Dirty, knuckles stained with dried blood and a bad conscience that the guy who shot and hit his satchel got away with it. It had been a grim realisation that hit him a tad too late, when he discovered the gaping hole in his satchel. His money and a collection of other possessions that had accumulated were now lost somewhere on the sprawling prairie.

The door wasn’t fully open yet, but Arthur hesitated.

"Y/N?", he whispered. The tone of his voice was enough to suggest that something wasn’t right. You had grown restless over the past hour, because the time you had agreed upon was long past and you had feared the worst. So as soon as you saw the door open and heard his voice, you discarded the book you had been reading and sat up.

"Finally! You okay?", you walked to the door, doing Arthur the service of opening it fully and letting him in. His shame would've probably prevented him to do so.

"'m really sorry...", he mumbled, not even looking you in the eyes. You didn't answer, still busy with scanning him for serious injuries, though glad you found none. Arthur took off his head to fiddle it awkwardly between his fingers, revealing his unkempt hair.

"Nothing to be sorry for, I can see that you've been held up", you offered a little smile before standing on your tiptoes and planting a peck on the cheek.

"I wanted to go clean myself up first, but I didn't wanna be any later than I already was...", for some moments, Arthur had even considered not turning up at all, but he knew the consequences of this would have been you worried sick for the entire night.

You helped Arthur out of his coat: "That's okay. Go get a bath now, I'll stay awake and wait."

"Yes, Ma'am", Arthur said unironically. He was about to walk out when he stopped. Holding up his butchered satchel. He would have to ask you for money. He turned around, his cheeks blushing in shame.

"Oh no! What happened!", you immediately took the satchel and looked at the damage. It felt light, the hole was big enough to drain it of most its contents.

"Bullet hit it..."

"Is your journal-"

"Had it in my saddle bag", Arthur explained briefly, "I-uhm...do ya have some change on ya?"

You gave him a couple of dollars without hesitation: "I'll get it fixed first thing tomorrow, I promise. Oh and-", Arthur had started to walk off, "Have you eaten?"

"I’m not hungry", Arthur replied, accompanied by a dismissive wave of his hand. 'Not hungry' was a subtle code for 'I haven't eaten all day, but please don't bother for me'. But of course, you did. The lamb chops you got from the saloon were done and you had carried them to the room only a minute before Arthur returned, his damp hair slicked back.

"Yer really shouldn't have...", Arthur commented when he saw the loaded plate and two bottles of beer.

"I don't know what you're talking about. I planned on eating that alone...", you grinned as Arthur approached you and gave you a quick kiss. He smelt pleasantly like soup, though the clothes he wore still gave the familiar odour of soil and pines. Arthur had tasted the meat that on your lips – apparently you had tried some – and sat down willingly. Eagerly, he finished the plate.

His shoulders were slouched, and you could tell by how slowly he blinked that he was exhausted and ready for some sleep.

"'m real sorry, darlin'...", Arthur sighed, "I really had something different planned for tonight than just sleeping..."

Arthur was hinting at some fun and intimacy, but you weren't even a little bit disappointed that none of this would be happening.

"Arthur", you leaned forward as your lips curled into a soft smile, "This is the perfect night."

The man looked at you like you were telling a stupid joke.

"Firstly...", you started and handed him a wet rag to clean his hands which glistened in fat, "you're alive. Can't take that for granted in this line of work, so this alone makes it a good night."

Then you helped him out of his clothes which he wouldn't need for sleeping: "Secondly, you're here. You came. You had a horrible day, I can tell. But you still showed up and I really appreciate that. Makes it an even better night, because we get to share a bed."

Arthur would often get this warm tingly feeling when you cared for him in this way. Not that he frequently found himself in situations where he messed up or ruined a date night, but sometimes things were out of control, and you never made him feel like you didn't understand that. Without resistance, he allowed you to guide him onto the pillow, his whole body sinking into the bed in the process. With pleasure, he watched as you crawled on top of him. He just barely managed to lift his hands to place them on your hip.

"And lastly", you pressed a light kiss onto his cheek, "Do you have one healthy arm to spare?"

Arthur didn't understand this question, shooting you a quizzical look before checking out his arms: "Both of them lookin' fine to me."

"And now if you, Mr. Morgan, have at least one of those arms to spare for me tonight, so I might rest my head on them instead of the pillow, since I much prefer your arm, I'd call this a perfect night", you called out in a theatrical matter, before falling onto the mattress next to him and resting your head on his arm.

Arthur chuckled warmly, pulling you into an embrace. "You sure are something...", he mumbled.

"Most of all I'm just happy to have you", you replied, snuggling up to him.

A contented sigh escaped Arthur’s lips. If he weren’t so tired, he might have found the words to express what he felt. It was the sentiment that it was his turn to express how privileged he’s to have you.

"You know", Arthur whispered, his words slurred by the tiredness that washed over him, "I'm gonna make up for all of it tomorrow." He placed a suggestive kiss on your neck.

"Looking forward to it", you answered softly, well aware that sleep will claim you both in a few moments.

#arthur morgan x reader #red dead redemption 2 #arthur morgan fanfiction #arthur morgan #red dead redemption community #rdr2 #rdr2 fanfiction #rdr #rdr fanfiction #arthur morgan x gn!reader #arthur morgan x gender neutral reader

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tiredcowpoke · 1 year ago

Text

ON THE TIP

Pairing: Arthur Morgan x Reader Request: Not a request. Blurb: Away from camp, you finally manage to tell Arthur something that you have been meaning to for a long while. Warnings: Mentions of a previously abusive relationship (not graphic), angst, but ultimately a lot of fluff and emotional stuff. Note: This is really self-indulgent. I had a spark of an idea and it really took off...somewhere. lol I hope you enjoy this sweet, little thing.

Evening was starting to set, casting the area in a warm glow as the sun gradually dipped down behind the treeline.

You sat near the fire you had made, the bedroll not quite giving you much comfort but the tree truck at your back at least allowed you that extra support. The day’s heat still lingered, even with you choosing to sit a little further back from the fire to avoid overheating yourself. It was going to be one of those nights.

Still, you took these moments when you could.

It was getting harder and harder to pull Arthur away from gang business, as much as you respected the role he played and his duties. Yet, you had long observed that he was overworked, almost the first person up on the list to clean up other people’s messes that reasonably could have been handled before his involvement. It was one of the more common things he complained about when he’d finally settle in for the night, if he wasn’t coming in late at night and gently rolling you onto your side so he could slip in behind you on the cot.

So, when the camp seemed quiet and Arthur approached you with a quip about getting out for a while, it was hard to tell him ‘no.��

Leaving was good for you, too. A break from the camp–the chores, worries, and dramatics, depending on the day usually. It also gave you some comfort to know that you didn’t have to worry about Arthur, either. He seemed more relaxed during these moments, and it allowed you to relax too. As much as you didn’t want to admit it, you were more intune with his emotions when he was in camp. It was something that started to happen as you got closer, and only continued beyond that point. You could see the stress in his brow, feel the tension in his shoulders when he’d pull you into him near a campfire or when he wrapped his arms around you at night.

It felt a little easier to breathe when you finally got away from camp, sometimes. Even if it was for an hour.

Though, the sound of hoofbeats and some rustling in the bushes ahead of you pulled you from your thoughts. Sure enough, you saw the familiar horse and equally as familiar rider, Arthur taking his time to settle his horse beside yours. A rabbit hung, skinned, on the side of his saddle. You figured that was dinner for the night, which was fine with you.

“Think we ain’t the only people out here today,” Arthur commented, turning toward you as you glanced up from where you were carving a slice from an apple, “Animals are kind of scarce and I don’t wanna go stompin’ off into the bush.”

“There’s enough here to get us through the night,” you said, finally cutting off the piece of apple and held it out toward him as he approached.

Arthur muttered a quiet ‘thanks’ as he took a bite from it after slipping down to sit beside you against the tree trunk. Naturally, you found yourself leaning against his side as you continued to cut away at another piece of apple for yourself, allowing the silence to settle as Arthur’s voice was replaced by the light wind in the trees and the crackling of the wood on the fire. You felt him slip his arm around your back, hand coming back to rest on your arm.

It wasn’t that Arthur didn’t show affection toward you around camp, but in private he allowed you in closer like this. The kisses were slower, lingered a little more, and neither of you were rushed to be anywhere or doing anything. You could still remember how long it took for both of you to feel awkward like this. Weary and haunted by bad experiences, you didn’t particularly let people close. Arthur seemed the same way, only mentioning his past relationships once or twice early on but it was clear that he had backed away from the concept.

Yet, things were just…different.

Of course, you knew who Arthur was. You knew who you were, too. You had seen his uglier sides, the violence that the life he led pulled out of him. It had pulled things out of you, too, that you weren’t proud of. Yet, you saw the quieter side of him, too. When he had his nose buried in his journal or was listening to other stories the camp members would tell around the fire at night. How he talked to Jack, the other women around camp. The way he acted around you, too, the awkward friendship that shifted to a genuine kindness and fondness, the shared glances and inside jokes, the way he cupped your face when he kissed you for the first time.

You noticed a few complexities about him, probably more than Arthur saw in himself.

Given the violence that you had experienced in your past relationships, the yelling, fighting, sneered insults that still sat under your skin in some places, Arthur kind of took you off guard. If he was as rough as he came across sometimes, perhaps you could have expected the path your relationship would go. It would’ve been simple: you would’ve thought about him a certain way, he would’ve burst that bubble, and that’d be it. You knew Arthur had tried from time to time in the beginning, when things were new and uncertain. Quickly thrown up guards and pointless fights and arguments that’d never stay too long, in the end.

You shifted, stretching out a leg as you tried to will yourself back to the current moment.

“If your eyes weren’t open, I’d think you fell asleep,” Arthur commented, making you let out a small hum as you grinned softly.

“Something about places like this push me right into my head,” you replied.

“Me too.”

“Your thoughts are probably more interesting than mine,” you said as you shifted somewhat to tuck your knife away as you finished off the apple.

“Wouldn’t say that,” he muttered.

“You wouldn’t feel the need to write them down if you didn’t think they weren’t interesting in some way,” you said, leaning back into his side with a sigh. “I know you don’t think much of yourself, but you’re more interesting than you let on.”

“Interestin’ in like a third limb or a weird animal, maybe,” he returned around a small huff–you knew better than to take it as genuine humor. Not wholly, at least. Another wall he insisted on putting up, as much as you saw through it at this point.

“More like a puzzle or a riddle.”

“Hope the answer is worth it.”

You frowned, brow furrowing. You knew this aspect of Arthur was an uphill battle, one that he may never win, but a part of you always felt obligated to argue otherwise. Which was probably why you found yourself shifting back so you could swing your leg over his legs, straddling his lap so you could look directly at him. You couldn’t help the small grin that tugged at your lips at the surprised look that settled in his expression, though his hands coming up to wrap around your lower back had you getting a little more comfortable. You cupped the sides of his jaw, a good-natured smile settling on your lips.

“I didn’t follow you out here so you could talk like that about yourself all night,” you stated, looking semi-sternly into his eyes before your expression softened, “But…I don’t really care about solving the riddle, so to say. I’m not here to…I don’t know, solve anything.”

“Well, I’m wishin’ I understood you a little better right now,” Arthur muttered, but the light playfulness was hard to miss. You let him pull you into a quick kiss, his free arm pulling you in closer so your bodies brushed a little more.

The shift in tone was a bit of a reassurance, but you knew you weren’t done. Really, there was something sitting heavy on the tip of your tongue. It kept appearing more and more whenever you were truly alone with him like this. The words were there, you knew what they were, yet there was a fear in you. You had said those words once before, to the wrong person, and there was that guarded part of you that feared you would do so again. Yet, everything about your relationship with Arthur seemed to rebuttal most doubts you had.

…You just needed to know if you were alone in the feeling.

Pulling back somewhat from the kiss, you leaned back somewhat to look over his face. His eyes seemed to search your own, a slight pinch between his eyebrows as you looked at him without speaking as you could feel a rush of thoughts battering against your skull. Yet, a part of you knew how you wanted to go about this.

“The last time I was in a situation like this…well, you know what that was like,” you said, dropping your gaze for a few moments. “I got told I was…many things. None of them too nice. I was told I wouldn’t ever find someone who’d…actually want me. I believed those things for a while, for a long while. I didn’t…intend for that to shift, it just happened…”

You let out a small sigh against the way your heart was racing, the momentary confidence you had only a minute ago starting to ebb out. Still, you couldn’t pull things back in now. You lifted your gaze back up to meet his own, smiling softly.

“You remember…a couple months ago, back before everything got thrown on its head? I got that…terrible little bullet wound?”

“Yeah,” Arthur replied, the look of confusion still not leaving his expression but he nodded lightly, “Never heard you holler like that before when Grimshaw pulled that out.”

“Not…not exactly talking about that, but it was a couple days after,” you continued, tilting your head somewhat thoughtfully. “I was feeling…really sorry for myself. I don’t know if I told you, but I kicked myself for such a long time that you found me like that. Over an injury, no less. Yet…you seemed to know exactly what to say. What’d help, what’d make me feel better. I realized after that…that most people I’ve had in my life, they only seemed to know how to do the opposite. A few of them purposefully doing so. I realized something, then, and…it kind of scared me, but I know it’s true…”

“Darlin’...” Arthur started, a hand coming up to rest against your cheek, his voice soft, but you knew you just had to say it.

“I realized back then that I’m in love with you, Arthur,” you stated, fighting the urge to shut your eyes or look away. “I love you. I just never really found the right words, but I need you to know that.”

Arthur didn’t say anything for an uncomfortable amount of time, seeming to almost process that. You couldn’t help the way your stomach tightened, the sting of rejection starting to prick at your eyes. He didn’t try to move you, however, hands still grasping onto you. Finally, he looked you in the eyes again.

“That’s really true?”

You nodded, trying to keep your voice even as you spoke. “I tried to convince myself that it was something else for a good while, but that feeling’s just grown harder to ignore as time went on.”

“...I ain’t…” he started, shaking his head, “I didn’t ever think someone’d feel that way ‘bout me again.”

“Well, I do,” you confirmed, swallowing thickly as you gripped his shoulders somewhat as if he’d support you crashing down if he said what you feared he was going to. “If…if you don’t feel the same way, that’s fine. Just…say it. I made my mind up a long while ago, so trying to convince me out of it will just hurt more.”

“Sweetheart…” he started, reaching out to cup the side of your face again as he forced you to look at him. “I…know I don’t deserve a lot of things, I don’t deserve you. You could leave, fall for a better man. Yet, when I’m with you…”

“Arthur…” you started, ready to remind him that going this route would just hurt you more, yet you knew what was coming and it was choking out the words that wanted to get out.

“You make me happy,” he continued, “I know I might not be able to give you the same feelin’ all the time, but…I love you, too. Don’t think I’d ever get to say it, but I do.”

The relief had you almost crumpling, your mind taking a moment to catch up. You almost didn’t realize you had started crying until you felt Arthur pull you into him, wrapping his arms around you tightly as you shook from the strength it took to not completely break down and just really send the wrong message. Yet, you found yourself wrapping your arms around him, pressing your face into his jacket. All those years you told yourself you were unlovable, that you were better off for it, and yet the opposite was staring you in the face.

It was a lot to process. Yet, despite the tears that were on your cheeks and stung at your eyes, you shifted so you could pull Arthur into a kiss. He responded instantly, holding you close as you let the gesture chase out the doubt that had settled heavily over you in the last couple moments.

“Scared the hell out of me, Morgan,” you muttered once the kiss was broken, Arthur pressing his forehead against your own.

“I know. I’m sorry,” he muttered in the space between you two, “Won’t be the last time I’ll scare you, I know, but I’m not goin’ anywhere for as long as you’ll have me.”

“As long as you’ll have me, too,” you replied in return, letting out a soft chuckle. “Say it again?”

“I love you, darlin’,” he said after a moment, “Have for a while now.”

“I love you, too.”

#my writing.#arthur morgan x reader

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flimflamfandom · 5 months ago

Text

One Night at the Daisy

This is a one shot that features ARI, a Lackadaisy OC by @ladybugkisses , and ARTHUR KEANE, an OC by yours truly.

The place seemed to sway as ROCKY walked downstairs. He was looking for someone, in the crowd.

"Shouldn't be...HARD to find." he looked through the place - the new business was good for money but bad for finding dates. Rocky could've sworn he'd seen her somewhere. He started to ask around.

"She's about this high on me, red hair, orange fur, this real cute lipstick that makes her eyes real vivid, like...no? Oh. Okay." He started to reach the edge of the place, and looked around the walls. She wasn't anywhere to be seen. He slumped on a table. "Well." He shrugged a bit. "She'll come...surely!" He smiled, and perked up, sitting there. "I'm right by the stairs. When she gets here, she's BOUND to see me!"

He scanned the crowd for her, still - maybe she WAS here, and he'd somehow missed her. He peered into the mass of people, and saw someone familiar - not Ari, but a shock of blonde hair and a blur of white fur - had to be-

LACY huffed and walked from the bar back to the caverns. She crossed her arms. "One night off." She sighed. "ONE. Just ONCE I want a night to myself, and what does that harpy of a woman say?" She mocked a southern Drawl "Well, ah need yuh t'catalogue those barrels back thayuh." She spat on the ground, and looked at her clip board.

"...Arthur's going to be awfully cross." She sighed. Arthur was her boyfriend, and she'd told him she'd be out on the floor some place tonight. She looked at the barrel room's vast expanse.

"Oh, you've GOT to be kidding me." She groaned. She looked down at the clipboard again, and started to write a few things down - mostly checking dates and numbers. She stared and stared, and wrote and wrote. Her hand began to cramp and her eyes began to strain. She leaned against the wall of a cave.

"...if someone was here to talk to, it would be nice." Her voice echoed gently off the walls. "Maybe a tall boy with cinnamon fur and a cute pair of glasses...with rough hands from guitar playing...and who'se supposed to be celebrating his ANNIVERSARY TONIGHT!" She kicked one of the barrels, and winced as she drew back her foot. "Shit!" She fell down.

"...shit."

"Shit!" IVY put the receiver to her other ear. "Well. That's not good. With a hammer?" She leaned into the phone. "He's okay, right? You're gonna tell me he's okay?" She sighed, pacing around the upstairs office. Her bright green dress reflected off the mahogany desk as she sat on it, and listened intently. It was Elsa Arbogast. Calvin was hurt.

"He'll be fine," the voice on the other line said, "but when he gets there he's not going to be too steady on that leg."

"So no dancing."

"None."

Ivy nodded. She sighed a bit, part relief and part frustration. "Thank you so, so much, Elsa. Tell him his sweetie is waitin' for him here." She said.

"Will do."

Ivy laid on the couch. "...I just got him back." Calvin had an...episode. It set him out about a week - it hurt to see him that way. This morning, he'd smiled, and he held Ivy, and kissed her a dozen times, and promised a dance, and even promised he'd get back from 'work' quick as he could. He was so happy - a happy Ivy hadn't seen on him for a while.

That was surely gone now.

"Something, I swear...something's just trying to make his life so damn hard." She muttered to himself as she walked back down the stairs. "...I can have a good time on my own! I mean, surely. I've done it before!" She grumbled a bit to herself. "Though, when you've had a good time with Cal, you never wanna have a good time withOUT him again..." She looked out at the street through the window of the Daisy.

"...it's really coming down out there."

"It's really coming down out there..." ARI was in a phone booth. She had no calls to make - she was just trying to get out of the rain. "Of course my umbrella's in that truck..." She looked down at herself. She was practically waterlogged. She was amazed she hadn't DROWNED on the way here - and she was still halfway from the Daisy. "Rocky's not going to want to dance with a puddle, surely...Ivy's about my size, she says she keeps stuff there...well." She looked down. "My hips...ah. It'll be fine for a night." She peered out the window of the phone booth. A man neared it, and knocked. She had to get going.

She rushed, struggling a bit with the heels in the rain. She tripped, and fell. She brushed herself off, and looked at her coat. "..." She looked down at herself. On top of rain, her new fur coat that Rocky'd spent all of his 'hazard pay' money on was covered in mud. She took in a deep breath, and a lucky roll of thunder hid the cavalcade of Portuguese swears that left her mouth. She kept going, and made it to the door of the club.

She looked at a small watch she had, ignoring the labored footsteps behind her. "Agh, it's getting late..."

"It's getting late." ARTHUR was still at the bar. He'd exhausted his talking points with the band, the people there he knew, and with Viktor. He was wondering where Lacy even got away to.

He got up from the bar, and looked around at the mostly empty club. A sad looking Rocky, still waiting diligently by the door, and a nervous, pacing Ivy. It was late. And almost everyone else was either necking in the corners, sitting and getting ready to head out, or gone. Arthur hummed a little tune to himself as he got up and walked to the center of the floor.

He heard very fast clicking heels, and a very flustered voice. "Arthur! Dear." Lacy walked over to him, and wrapped her arms around him. She was covered in dust, and one of her shoes was especially so. She purred so loudly when she hugged him that he felt like he couldn't hear his own thoughts. "I'm so sorry about that, I...if Mitzi even SEES me she finds something for me to do and-"

"It's alright." Arthur smiled down at her, and kissed the top of her head. "You're alright." He looked around. "...not many people left, huh?"

"No." Lacy took in a breath. "...not much of an anniversary, is it?" Lacy said.

"Well, you're here, aren't you?" Arthur smiled. Lacy did, too.

"...yes, I suppose I am..."

Their eyes turned to two people walking down the stairs - more so stumbling.

"There we are...bad way to meet, huh? Almost. No, no, just lean on the - lean on the wall, Calvin."

"I'm trying but yer coat is wet and-"

CALVIN was clinging to Ari as she helped move the boy down the stairs - both looked as if they'd swam here, their fur damp and dripping. Ari's new coat was covered in muck and must've weighed thirty pounds more than it had. Calvin's trousers were ripped, revealing a bandage over his leg, and his hat had a new hole in it, likely from a bullet. He got to the bottom of the steps, and collapsed to the floor, taking in breaths.

"CALVIN MCMURRAY YOU STOP SCARING ME LIKE THAT!" Ivy shouted, rushing over to him and propping him up on the wall. "How did that even HAPPEN to you?"

"I, eh...it's...there was a pig, and-"

"Shush." Ivy kissed him gently, and helped him up. "Eugh...what're you eating these days? Gettin' heavier." She winked. "All muscle, huh?"

"Probably rain water." He replied, fighting off his jacket, and letting it squelch to the floor. "Sorry this all happened so soon after-"

"Nope. No apologizing. You're here." Ivy let her fur get wet as she hugged Calvin, nearly wringing the water out of him.

On the other side of the stair case, Ari watched, sighing a bit. Shame she hadn't seen-

"Ari?" Rocky was there, sitting upright, with wide eyes, and a gentle, happy smile.

"...Rocky! I, ehm, I met your cousin - he...has some sort of wound." She said, getting her coat off, as well. "I'm so sorry about the coat, I...I know you spent a lot of money on it. I can have it cle-"

"Are you warm?" Rocky asked, holding her hands as she sat down.

"...well it was warm, yes, before it got soaked."

"Good!" Rocky hugged her, and squeezed her tight. Ari squeezed him, too. She purred, and stood. "...the band is still here. I hope you haven't danced too much?" She winked. Rocky smiled.

"I've just been waiting."

#lackadaisy #lackadaisy cats #flimflamuniverse #calvin mcmurray #ivy pepper #rocky rickaby #lacy hardt #arthur keane #artlace #ari from ladybugkisses #roari

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armoricaroyalty · 9 months ago

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𝐕𝐀𝐋𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐈𝐍𝐄'𝐒 𝐃𝐀𝐘 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟒 / ❛ boy crazy ❜ part two (@nexility-sims)

When Zofia walked into a room, everyone noticed. It might have been the enormity of her hair or the constant noise of her rings and bracelets or else the overwhelmingly sweet scent of her favorite body mist, but she was captivating in every sense of the word. Hannah had been jealous of her, once upon a time. It would have been impossible to grow up with her without any jealousy: next to Zofia, everyone became shabby and dull. Ranks didn't matter at all, no title or royal honor could ever compete with that kind of natural charisma. Hannah loved her, but there had been days when she'd hated her, too. Now, though, she was only grateful. When Zofia walked in, nobody noticed the rest of them slipping out.

read part one here

author's note: @nexility-sims and I have been working on the zofia/rui romance since....early 2022? some time in 2021? since #rufia has completely dominated 2/3 of our joint brain power for years, it seemed fitting to finally let them out of our DM's to celebrate Love Day Valentine's Day. Happy V-Day, everyone!

Transcript under the cut.

CHEF | Aren't long nails against dress code, anyway? SERVER | [laughs] Girl, I don't give a fuuu— SERVER | You wanna know who else is wearing acrylics tonight? CHEF | [bored] I dunno, who? SERVER | Oh, nobody, just the Princess Zofia. CHEF | [gasps] CHEF | Shut. Up. You actually talked to her? What was she like? SERVER | She's fucking gorgeous. Like, obviously, but up close, she's even more beautiful. CHEF | Yeah, yeah, but what was she like? SERVER | Okay, so I didn't actually talk to her because she was all over her new boyfriend. They were like, so into each other. It was so sweet. CHEF | Really? I heard it's just a PR relationship so people will think she's over Sigis. SERVER | No way! They're obviously crazy abut each other. You can't fake— UNIDENTIFIED MAN | [offscreen] EVERYBODY OUT! HUGO | What, do I gotta say it again? All of you, clear out! HANNAH | [sighs] Please excuse us. HANNAH | My cousin and I need somewhere to speak privately. Will you please excuse us for a moment? CHEF | ??? SERVER | [shrugs] HUGO | ...anyway, did you see it? HANNAH | See what? HUGO | That stupid little hair flip. He did it a million times. HANNAH | He's growing it out for her. HUGO | Really? Hard to believe, he's so fucking vain. HANNAH | She told me she asked him to grow it long. [deep, beleaguered sigh] She thinks it's sexy. HUGO | What, are you for real? HANNAH | Oh yeah. She's always had a thing for guys with long hair. HUGO | ...huh. HANNAH | Anyway...what's your take? Personally, I don't see what she sees in him. HUGO | [snorts] He's better than Marshall. HANNAH | That's the world's lowest bar. Subterranean, in fact. HUGO | So what are we going to do? HANNAH | He's not a dog, we can't just run him off. HUGO | Well, you can't, but maybe if I— PIDGE | [offscreen] HEY! What are you two talking about? PIDGE | ...and why are you hanging out in the kitchen? ARTHUR | ....hi. HUGO | [icily] Farrier. HANNAH | It's late, Pidge. What are you still doing up? PIDGE | Uh, excuse you. Mama said I can stay until midnight. ARTHUR | ...you two aren't talking about Rui and Zofie, are you? HUGO | ... HANNAH | ...no. PIDGE | You two are such LIARS! PIDGE | Both of you are judgy control freaks! I thought he was really nice. HUGO | He could barely string a sentence together. ARTHUR | I mean...Armorican is his third or fourth language, isn't it? HUGO | Whatever! He gives me the creeps. HANNAH | Well, she says she's in love. HUGO | [scoffs] In love? They've known each other for six months. PIDGE | So? What if it was love at first sight? HANNAH | [exasperated] Pidge— HUGO | Just ignore her, she's fourteen. PIDGE | For your information, I'm fifteen. And I'll be sixteen in May, sooo— HUGO | Yeah, a baby— ARTHUR | Can I remind everyone that Zofia is twenty-two? She's an adult, she can make her own choices, and this is none of our business. HUGO | You're right, Farrier. It's none of your business. HANNAH | [offscreen] Hugo, enough. PIDGE | [mouthing] Rude. HANNAH | Arthur, what was your read? ARTHUR | I don't know, and I don't want to form a judgment until I've actually gotten to know him. He seems...fine? On par with the other guys she's dated. HANNAH | [sighs] "On par with all her other boyfriends" is the entire problem. HANNAH | I just don't want her to get hurt again. This happens every time, you know? She falls hard and fast and then the guy turns out to be a scum-sucking lowlife. PIDGE | [laughs] Hellooooo, what about Van? He was— HANNAH | Probably thw worst of all of them. Trust me, Pigeon. He's...he's no good. HUGO | [jokingly] You see, baby bird? That's why you're not allowed to date until you're thirty and why Hannah's gonna join a convent— PIDGE | No way, that's not fair. HANNAH | [tiredly] Hugo, shut up. No one asked. PIDGE | Yeah, Hugo. No one asked. ARTHUR | Look, I think we should at least give the guy a chance. HANNAH | [sighs] I guess we owe her that much. PIDGE | Guys, I actually talked to him, and trust me: he is like, sooo nice. HUGO | ... HUGO | I bet I could take him. PIDGE | Hey! Hannah, did you hear what he just said—

#armorica story #behind the scenes #character: hugo st. fleur #character: hannah st. fleur #character: margaret st. fleur #character: arthur farrier #holiday special

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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.

♠️ Tag list: @cljordan-imperium @1nterstellarcha0s @raincoffeeandfandoms @babaohhhriley

#arthur shelby #arthur Shelby x reader #Peaky blinders imagine #Peaky blinder x reader #peaky blinder imagine #Peaky blinder angst #Peaky blinders #Peaky blinders x reader #arthur shelby x y/n #peaky blinders au #peaky blinders fluff #peaky blinder fanfic #peaky blinder headcanon #tommy shelby #Paul anderson #Rat the Brat #Thomas Shelby #peaky blinders fanfic

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trashboatprince · 9 months ago

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"I need you, you idiot" with the ineffable duo if ur up for it

I'm trying to figure out what's a good excuse to use this that isn't post-s2 because... yeah, haha.

So, here's something from very early in their Arrangement. :)

On with the fic!

Guard duty had to be the absolute most boring task for the Knights of the Table Round. Well, that and the meetings, sometimes Aziraphale was tempted to experiment with napping like Crowley did during those.

Speaking of, the demon had been laying low for quite some time, it had been a few months since any word of the 'Black Knight' in the land. Arthur was thrilled, but Aziraphale was a bit curious. And a little annoyed.

Crowley had spent weeks pestering Aziraphale about the Arrangement, and when he finally agreed to it, the snake had run off! To God knows where!

He sighed loudly, shaking his head. Why even set up this thing if you had no need to use it? He thought Crowley needed him for something urgently when he had agreed but-

There was a rustling from somewhere below Aziraphale and he stopped in his patrol around the guard wall of Arthur's castle. He listened closely, hearing more of the rustling, before a few hissed curses.

Frowning, Aziraphale peered over the ledge, staring down into the darkness below. The torches around the ledge didn't give him much light, but he could make out someone below. A very familiar someone. "Crowley!" He hissed, glaring at the demon.

Crowley was not in his armor, instead in normal clothing, and also appeared to be covered in leaves, as he was pulling some off himself. He looked up. "Angel! There you are, thought I'd have to break in!"

"Why are you here?"

"To talk to you?"

"About what?" Aziraphale asked, irritated. Mainly for Crowley only just now showing up, with no warning. And for the fact that he had made Aziraphale worry over his safety, not that Aziraphale would admit to it.

"About... uhhh... look, can I come up there? Gotta talk to you in secret."

Aziraphale frowned deeply, glancing this way and that. The other knights were off in their sections, paying no mind to Aziraphale. Still, just to be safe...

He snapped his fingers, the others would pay no attention at all to him or this side of the castle until Crowley left.

Suddenly Crowley was at his side, wings out, when had he flown up here!?

"Alright, what is it? And where have you been!? You left without a word!" Aziraphale shouted, throwing his hands up.

Crowley blinked. "I didn't tell you?"

"Of course not! Uhg, that is so like you, you always do that. Get me talking and making plans, only to vanish off the face of the Earth without even a note! You'll probably do that after this conversation, to the surprise of no one."

The demon snarled. "Oh please, like you haven't done the same to me! 'Sides, 's not my fault I left! Hell had me on a job and wouldn't even let me pack up first! Practically dragged me there myself!"

"Is that going to happen again this time?" Aziraphale sniffed. "Why am I even talking to you right now? I'm on guard duty, can't have you messing up that job again for me. Away with you."

Suddenly, Aziraphale was pinned against the ledge of the tower, staring into golden snake eyes. Gosh, they looked lovely in the light of the torches.

"I need you, you idiot." Crowley said, voice low but powerful. It sent a weird shiver up Aziraphale's spine. "It's important, extremely important, and part of the Arrangement now if you wanna protect your prissy friends."

"W-what?" Aziraphale blinked.

"Hell wants... me to cause problems for your knights. Apparently, they're getting a little too good at what they do around here, and Hell wants me to screw all that up. I honestly don't give two shits, but this is a big job."

"And... what do you want me to do about it?" Aziraphale asked, mouth a bit dry, he kept looking at Crowley's mouth.

"Think you can... thwart my wiles? I mean. Look, I know the Arrangement was basically set up for use to, ya know, do each other's work, but I don't really want to do this, seems like a lot of trouble. And they don't know there's an angel on the team, Hell has no clue that you can, technically stop me."

Aziraphale frowned, finally registering his words. "But won't your bosses be upset if you fail?"

"That's... where the Arrangement really comes in. Think you can stir the pot for any trouble going on with Arthur's crew? Just a little? Nothing huge or involving all of 'em, you can 'stop' me from making a big disaster, but 'allow' me to cause a little trouble? To please my bosses?"

"And what do I get out of this?"

"There's this lovely monastery that isn't exactly the most blessed place across the sea. They are well known for their wines and wine-infused cheeses. Been thinkin' about treatin' you there."

Aziraphale considered this, it was tempting, and oh he had such a love for a good cheese. "That, and I'll need you to do a blessing in London for me, it's for an inn that opens in four days."

"Deal!" Crowley grinned, letting him go, much to Aziraphale's disappointment. For some reason. "I gotta get goin', the Black Knight's been too quiet lately, I'm gonna go steal some goats for shits and giggles."

The wings were back out again as Crowley jumped up onto the ledge. He turned to look at Aziraphale, grinning. "See you around, angel!" And he was off.

Aziraphale swallowed, feeling a bit too warm for his armor. Well, best to get planning for this 'stirring the pot' plan. What could he look into? Maybe that whole thing with Lancelot? His stares at Arthur's wife? That might cause enough trouble to entertain Hell, for a while at least...

This... is longer than I had expected, haha. But I like writing their early Arrangement days.

Also, I love the idea that Aziraphale accidentally ruined Arthur's love life.

#good omens #ineffable husbands #ineffable spouses #aziraphale #crowley #anthony j crowley #john's drabbles

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allzelemonz · 1 year ago

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Scent: Micah Bell X Male Reader

Pronouns: None Mentioned, Reader referred to as ‘boy’ Physical Sex: AMAB Rating: E/Smut Warnings: Micah Bell is his own warning, bottom Micah and top reader, Micah is a little creepy (I coulda made it so much worse), he’s obsessed with how you smell, finger sucking, spit as lube, anal fingering, anal sex Summary: When your mask goes missing from the laundry you find it somewhere very unexpected, getting it back leads to something much more unexpected.

You can’t find it anywhere. Laundry always gets done in camp, one way or another. Sometimes things get lost, it happens, but this is the most inconvenient time to lose your mask. You’re supposed to be meeting Bill, Arthur, and Lenny to rob a train but you can’t find the mask anywhere.

Mary-Beth says she never saw it.

Tilly says the same.

And Abigail.

Karen is drunk, no help.

Miss Grimshaw asks if you ever gave it to the girls to clean.

You’re sure you did, along with a few other items of clothing. You got everything back from Tilly yesterday, but the mask wasn’t there. You look over your clothes again, at this point just trying to pick out something to ruin so you can cut a new mask from it. Just as you pick out an old shirt you’re willing to part with, you see it. Your mask, crumpled in the hands of Micah Bell.

He’s on the edge of camp, somewhere most people wouldn’t see him, but your tent is angled just right. Micah runs his fingers over the fabric, almost as carefully as he does with his guns. It’s an unsettling sight, proving that he clearly meant to take it. You walk the long way around so he doesn’t see you coming, approaching him in a blind spot like an animal stalking prey.

“Hello, Mister Bell.”

Micah jumps ever so slightly, something you would have missed if you blinked at the wrong time. He turns, tucking the mask into his pocket in the process.

“Hi there, cowpoke.” He says, hiding his guilt with scary efficiency.

You pause for a moment, trying to find a hint of something in his face. “There a reason you took my stuff?”

“No idea what yer talkin’ about.” He dips his head slightly, utilizing his hat to hide his face as he relaxes with his hands comfortably on his gun belt.

“Come on, Micah.” You sigh. “I actually have to go out and make money instead of lazing around camp all day.”

He chuckles. “Good one, cowpoke. I’ll remember that.”

“Just give it back.”

Slowly, he takes the mask from his pocket and turns it over in his hands.

“Don’t think I will.” He says, clearing his throat. “Unless ya wanna try n’ take it from me, cowboy.”

You stare at him for a moment as a sick smile spreads over his face. “Keep it.”

Micah laughs to himself. “Whatever you say.”

You walk away. You’re already late for the train job, you don’t have time for this. The shirt you pulled out is still there and you cut a decent shape out with your knife for a new mask. The job itself goes fine, has a decent take, and the law shows up late. Couldn’t have gone better, especially considering Bill planned it.

When you dismount back in camp you return to your tent to find Micah sitting inside. He has your mask in his hands as he looks it over. As you approach, he peers at you from under his hat. Before you can speak, he holds the mask out to you. You take it from him, not letting your eyes go anywhere else for fear he’ll pull something Micah-like.

“What’s your deal?” You ask, your grip on the mask he’s handed you barely holds it because you wonder if he’s done something to it.

Micah grunts as he stands. “That’s for me ta know.”

You step in front of him when he tries to leave, putting yourself not even an inch from him.

“Don’t test me now, cowpoke.” He says. “I ain’t in the mood.”

You hold the mask between you. “Just tell me why you took it.”

Micah takes the fabric from your hand and carefully looks over your face for a reaction. His eyes hold a steady gaze with yours as he brings it close to his face and inhales long and slow. He closes his eyes for a moment, savoring the scent that comes off of it. He’d taken it from the laundry before it was washed, every drop of blood and sweat from the last couple jobs still intact. You’re not entirely sure what the feeling shooting through you is. This is creepy, the very definition of it, but something about Micah stealing something of yours just to smell it is making a tent form in your pants.

You push his arm out of the way as you step towards him, gripping the collar of his shirt to hold him still as you press your lips to his. Micah steps backwards with you, dropping the mask and resting his hands on your waist. You pull him down to your bedroll, laying him on his back and working quickly at the buttons of his shirt.

“Eager are we, cowpoke?” Micah chuckles, relishing in the feeling of your fingers brushing against his bare skin. “Shoulda done this sooner.”

“Thought you weren’t in the mood.” You mutter, taking off your own shirt.

Micah sighs, his hand trailing down your now bare stomach. “Didn’t know you was so… domineerin’. Makes a man change his mind.”

You lean over him and grip his hair, pulling hard to make him keep his eyes on your own. His eyebrows turn up from the slight pain and his hand falters against your chest.

“What is it that you want, Micah? Just like the way I smell or you want something specific?”

Micah bucks up, searching for friction as his hardness strains against his pants. You pull his hair tighter, warning him to stop.

“Words, Micah. Tell me what you want.”

“Fuck me, cowboy.” He groans, his hands working to unfasten your gun belt.

“That all, Micah?” You remove his hands, unfastening the clasp yourself. “You could’ve just asked.”

Micah watches as you stand and let the privacy flap of fabric fall down. You kneel next to him, taking his remaining clothes off and running your hands over the newly exposed skin before removing your remaining clothes as well. You sit between his legs as your hands wander over his thighs, thicker than they look hidden behind his pants. Micah whispers your name when you near his groin. You look up and find his face expressing more than he could ever beg with words. The hardness in his cold eyes soften completely as they plead for you to touch him. You keep a hand on his thigh as you lean over him and connect your lips. Slowly, you move your hand up his inner thigh and over his balls. He shivers under you and his hands move to grip your waist. You wrap around him, running your thumb over the tip and Micah groans against your mouth.

You bring your other hand up and press a few fingers to his lips. He takes them without argument, closing his eyes as he sucks them. It feels like he’s done this before, running his tongue along your fingers expertly and coating them with heavy spit. It makes your dick twitch against his thigh. You take your fingers back, unable to wait much longer. You grab at the pile of shed clothing and crumble it. Micah takes them, knowing what you want, and puts them under his back so he’s comfortable and positioned well enough for you to have access.

It’s agonizingly slow for both of you as you spit into your hand and slowly massage him open. He isn’t one for noises, gritting his teeth to hold whimpers and groans when you push another knuckle inside. His dick is throbbing by the time you withdraw your hand, satisfied by the stretch he gives. You take the same hand, collecting as much spit into it as you can before rubbing it over yourself to make this easier. Micah watches you with half lidded eyes, struggling not to touch himself.

Finally, you rest a hand on his hip and line yourself up. Micah grips at the fabric of the bedroll beneath him as you press inside, spreading his legs further like a submissive whore. You mutter a few things as you feel him surrounding you, warming every inch despite only a small part being inside of him. When you bottom out, Micah shutters and you lean back over him to connect your lips and distract him from the pain of being stretched. He groans into it, not afraid to make noise if it’s muffled. You start slow, just for a moment, before quickly setting a harsh pace. Micah’s hands wander over the bare skin of your torso, gripping tightly when a thrust is particularly deep. You break the kiss, moving to his neck as you slam into him. Micah takes heavy stolen breaths before you knock them away, fucking him harder than you thought you could. You leave marks along his neck, wanting him to remember this for a while.

You pull back, grabbing his hips as you double your efforts. You slam into him and move a hand to pump his neglected dick, doing your best to match your own thrusts. Micah looks lost in his own bliss as he gazes down at the sight of you jerking him. He releases, putting a hand over his mouth as he moans and mutters your name mixed with a string of curses. You return your hand to his hip, gripping tighter as you chase your end. The sight of Micah’s cum covering his stomach and the feeling of his muscles clenching around you send you over and you release into him with a few last thrusts.

Micah hums as you pull out. “I really shoulda done this a long time ago.”

You fall next to him, the heat and the sweat covering your body becoming evident in the absence of the pleasurable distraction. Micah rolls to his side, a hand turning your head to give him access to your lips as he kisses you slowly.

“Ya still smell good, cowboy.” He says, groaning as he inhales deeply. “Might get me all worked up again.”

“Never took you for the type, Micah.”

He chuckles. “Don’t let just anybody fuck me like that, cowboy.”

You reach up to brush his hair out of his face. “That right?”

“Carefull.” He clears his throat. “I might take ya next, show ya how to treat a fella properly.”

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