#it really did convince me to give more shows a chance
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Part 2 to this kinda because it kinda left with an implied ending but this one is a good ending ANYWAYS TW SUICIDAL TW STANCEST--
"You deserve a reward, Fordsy." Bill crooned while he moved his pawn forward - Albin Countergambit, damn. The sting of being out-maneuvered didn't gloss over Bill's words, though.
"A reward? I couldn't possibly request a reward when you've done so much for me, my Muse." He said, though the words were empty. His posture had straightened politely and he waited for Bill to argue.
"No, you deserve it." Bill argued, and a curl of satisfaction warmed him. "You solved that equation so quickly, sped up construction on the portal by weeks on your planetary measure. Your mind is doing wonders with me here, I love to see it." His voice dipped a little. "Watching all those neurons firing, you're a piece of art, Sixer." He purred.
Ford blushed. Bill knew what that nickname did to him. "Thank you, my Muse... " He said, hot under the collar and voice maybe a pitch lower than before.
"Don't you wanna hear your reward, Sixer? I hope you don't think I'd cheap out by only giving you well-deserved praise." His heavy eyelashes cut into his pupils. He knew what he was doing.
Ford cleared his throat. "Of course not, my Muse, I wo-would never think of you as cheap." He cursed the slip and quickly tried to refocus on their game - his king was open. Ford moved his knight. "Check." He could imagine what rewards his Muse would have for him - turning every nerve in his body into an erogenous zone, using that sinfully large tongue, going until Ford cried from it--
"All good ideas, Fordsy." Bill knocked over his king with a flick of his fingers, before melting all the pieces into a puddle on the table. "But I've done something different. You know your phone problem?"
Ford's fingers itched for his journal and in the dreamscape a journal appeared. "The ghost haunting my phone? You've found it?"
"No, not a ghost yet, give him a minute." He joked - probably joked. "Really, Braniac, sometimes of all the answers it really is the simplest one. The silent phonecalls weren't any weirdness, they were just your inferior copy."
"Stanley?" Ford blurted. "Why would he be..." Ford had been getting those silent phonecalls since college at least, why would he never say anything? Why would he always call? He felt a flicker of annoyance that it wasn't even an anomaly.
"I know, I know that little mystery had been distracting you, so I even dealt with it for you. No more late-night phonecalls dragging you away, you can even rip the page about them from your journal."
Unease sank into Ford's mind. What had Bill said to make Stanley stop calling? He can't have simply asked, Stan was far too stubborn. Had he threatened Stan?
Had he used Ford's voice?
Dread simmered like nausea. "How, might I ask, did you convince him to him to leave me be?"
"No way but with the truth - Scout's honor. Aren't you happy, Sixer?" Suddenly Stan's old name for him sounded wrong coming from Bill. "I took care of him, he couldn't bother you again if he wanted to. You deserved it, for being so good." His praises sounded like the ones you'd give a child. Ford's stomach twisted.
"Would you show me, Bill?" He asked tightly.
Bill sighed and snapped his fingers. The puddle on the table between them turned clear.
Stanley was sitting in a car on the other side. A gun in his hand shaking minutely. The safety was off, but the gun wasn't turned outward against a threat.
He clicked the chamber out of place and span it before clicking it back into place.
He lifted it until the nozzle buried into his overgrown hair. Ford screamed when his finger flexed - one-in-six odds, 16.666...% chance he never saw his brother again because Bill used his voice to say something so terrible it made him - made him--
The gun clicked uselessly and Ford sobbed. Then Stan drew back the hammer again. One-in-five, 20%, the mindscape around him trembled in his panic, and then his view was taken, back to the puddle of black and white that remained of their game of chess.
"Take it easy, Sixer, you're starting to make me think you're ungrateful."
Ford's eyes snapped to Bill to the - the monster.
He needed to get out. His mind, once a vast expance, folded and curled inwards, stars burning out, glass shattering, the longer he stayed here with Bill the more time passed between hammer pulls, his brain counted up percentages for the chance that Stan was dead and Bill had the gall to call Ford ungrateful? Had the audacity to use Stan's name for him when he'd--
"I don't know what you're trying to pull here, Sixer, but your brother's gone. What's the difference if he's dead or not?"
Ford lunged over the table at him while the sky imploded.
The next second he was snapping awake - on the floor, a fork in his hand just within reach of his old rotary phone. He scrambled to his feet, hand on the receiver and bloody, shaking hand dragging the dial, trying to will the damn thing to roll back faster as he slowly dragged out '*69'.
The phone rang.
And rang.
"Come on Stanley - come on - you've gotta be close to a phone." His voice warbled into the large, empty house. "Come on, Stanley." He pleaded. And then, the ringing cut.
"Stanley?!"
The line was quiet - not dead, but quiet.
"Please - Stanley just say something." He sobbed.
"What the fuck do you want from me, Stanford?" His voice was rougher than he remembered, haggard and worn in a way Ford had never imagined it.
He could have said a million things, words clammered for first in his throat but all he could blurt was "Come home, damn it!"
The line was silent long after he'd spoken, his mind scrambling for anything to say - Stanley was always the one that knew what to say while he scrambled to speak at all. Then Stanley spoke again. "First you tell me I'm not worth the time it takes to hang up, now you're acting like I'm a damn teenage runaway - we're more than halfway to thirty, Stanford, if you're done jerking me around I've got things to get back to--"
"It wasn't me! I didn't say any of the things that previous call was - it was - well, it was an entity that can mimick my voice."
"Yeah? And I bet you're so fucking eager to share the details of how you fucked your brother a decade ago."
"I never--"
"So you never told anyone but the thing that isn't you but has your voice was just also there in our bedroom when we were kids, is that right? And they called me the liar."
"He can read my memories, Stanley, it's not that simple." Agitation seeped in to replace the cold fear. Bill may have been... Encouraged... By Ford to look into that certain childhood experimentation, which was now coming back to haunt him. "Just - just don't go back in the car. Please."
"... What?" Stanley sounded scared, for a second. "You can see me? How can you see me - wh--" his voice left the receiver, too far away.
"Stanley!" Ford called, and the voice came back.
"What kinda voodoo shit are you pulling, there ain't a camera for miles." He demanded more than asked.
"It's - the entity. He showed me you in the car - he - Stanley why the hell do you have a revolver?" The question took the energy out of Ford. He felt like the world under him was fake. His hand throbbed, still with a fork in it.
"Doesn't matter, you weren't bullshitting me?"
"No, Stanley, I wasn't lying. I promise I can explain everything in-depth once I get there." He said firmly.
"Get here? You ain't coming down here, bub."
"... Our stupid face."
Ford sighed. "Do you always have to be so stubborn? Just tell me where you are."
"Florida."
"I'll pay for the plane."
"Not happening."
"Stanley! You scared the shit out of me, there's a fork in my hand, and if I don't see your stupid face in the next few hours I'm going to pull my hair out, would you work with me here?"
"... Our stupid face. "
Ford snorted. "Yes, precisely. What if I take a plane down and we drive up to Oregon together? Road trip like we did that summer of 61'?"
"Waste of money."
"Not if it's you."
The line went quiet.
"... Stanley..?"
"Fuck, fine, whatever, we're grown men no need to get sappy - shit. Fine" He said with a small warble in his voice.
Ford smiled. "I can't wait."
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One of my favorite sequences in all of Beast Wars. I absolutely love the look of cybertron here, especially the lights and colors, in all of its late '90s 3D fun =]
#my videos#mainframe entertainment#beast wars#beast wars 1996#maccadam#3d#1990s#captioned#sorta.... couldn't figure out a way to caption all the grunts & yells w/out fucking up the rest of the captions#what's crazy it that i couldnt stant 3d animation in tv shows until i watched tfp#after watching that show and seeing how genuinely GOOD a show could look w/ 3d animation#it really did convince me to give more shows a chance#including bw lol#which im happy about#cheetor#transformers beast wars#🇨🇦
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𝐖𝐇𝐄𝐍 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐒𝐀𝐘 “𝐋𝐄𝐓'𝐒 𝐌𝐀𝐊𝐄 𝐎𝐔𝐓” 𝐓𝐎 𝐇𝐈𝐌
Gojo. Geto. Sukuna. Nanami. Choso. Toji. Megumi. Itadori. Yuta.
◈ — 𝐆𝐎𝐉𝐎
“Say no more.” He'd grab your face in an instant and press his lips against yours. He would immediately get touchy all over your body, and for not even a few seconds, he's already slipping his tongue in, savoring your taste with hunger. He'd pull away for a moment before devouring your lips with his own, your mouth would be invaded by his tongue once more before pressing you against the nearby wall.
◈ — 𝐆𝐄𝐓𝐎
“You want to make out? Alright, love. Let's go somewhere private, we can make out there as much as you want.” He'd place his hands on your wrist and lead you toward the bedroom. His lips would immediately find yours, soft but deep kisses at first before it gets heated. He doesn't mind if you want to be on the top or him on the top. Rest assured, he's not giving your lips a break either way. “Now I know what you need to do to convince me.”
◈ — 𝐒𝐔𝐊𝐔𝐍𝐀
His body would shiver with excitement as he looks down at you with a hungry look. “Come here,” he reaches for you and grabs your body, “You want to make out, do you now? My, my, are you in the mood for me.” He tilts your head with his finger and starts trailing kisses on your neck, nibbling your skin with his teeth, licking and sucking, and doing whatever he wants until he makes sure it leaves a lot of his marks. His mind is filled with dirty thoughts, “I hope you know what you're getting yourself into.”
◈ — 𝐍𝐀𝐍𝐀𝐌𝐈
“Right here? Right now?” Nanami's eyebrows would elevate at this request. “I should have expected it from you.” He sighs and loosens his tie before leaning back on his chair saying, “I can spare some time for you, love,” as he pats his lap, gesturing you to sit with him. “Let's make it a good one.” He'll place a hand on your cheek and the other on your waist as he kisses you slowly, with no rush, he likes to take his time savoring your lips.
◈ — 𝐂𝐇𝐎𝐒𝐎
He would look at you confused, “What's that?” He had no clue what making out is and he's not familiar with the term. Once you explain it to him, he'll nod and hold your waist, initiating the kiss first. “Like this?” He'll kiss you more. “I think I can get used to this.” His kisses slowly become deeper, letting out a few hums of satisfaction here and then. His touches would become bolder as well once you give him the cue. He's never done something like this but he seems to enjoy it with you.
◈ — 𝐓𝐎𝐉𝐈
He'd raise a brow after hearing your request out of nowhere. “So you want to make out, huh? Are you feeling needy?” He'll tease you for it. “Now come here, I'll show you just how good I can be with my lips," he'd speak to you in a seductive tone while looking at you with a sly smile on his face. He'll kiss you all over your face until it's damp from both of your wet lips after the kiss while his hands eagerly caressing and groping your body. He won't stop even until you're breathless.
◈ — 𝐌𝐄𝐆𝐔𝐌𝐈
He'd turn a bit red at your sudden question. He is a little surprised with your forwardness but he's not against it. “What did you say? Do you want to make out with me?” He doesn't mind if you kiss him. In fact, he'd like it if you did because he's been wanting to do that with you for some time already. Megumi starts off shy with a few pecks, focusing on your lips and what gesture you like. It's surprisingly hard for him to stop kissing you once he's warmed up.
◈ — 𝐈𝐓𝐀𝐃𝐎𝐑𝐈
“Eh? With me?” He points at himself. You'd smack his arm which makes him let out a short playful laugh, “Okay, okay, let's do it.” He'd kiss you eagerly, he really wanted to experience kissing someone ever since he was single, and now that got the chance to make out with you is more than a dream come true. He'll circle an arm over your shoulder and the other around your waist, pressing your body closer to him as he focuses on kissing you.
◈ — 𝐘𝐔𝐓𝐀
His face would turn red and his cheeks would be flushed. He'd look at you with surprised eyes and then he'd nod slowly. “O-of course, let's make out.” He'd say your name in such a soft way, the most romantic tone he's ever spoken to you with. After a few seconds of looking deeply into your eyes, he would lean closer and test the water with a few soft pecks before the kiss got deeper. He doesn't really know where to place his hand so he just holds your waist as he pulls you closer.
#ೋღ—物語.#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jujutsu kaisen x you#jjk x reader#jjk x you#jujutsu kaisen x female reader#jjk x fem!reader#jujutsu kaisen#jjk#jujutsu kaisen headcanons#jjk headcanons#jjk hcs#gojo x reader#gojo satoru x reader#geto x reader#geto suguru x reader#sukuna x reader#nanami x reader#nanami kento x reader#choso x reader#toji x reader#fushiguro toji x reader#megumi x reader#fushiguro megumi x reader#itadori x reader#itadori yuji x reader#yuta x reader#yuuta okkotsu x reader
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@mischievouslittlecreature yeh, that definitely felt more like a business deal than anything else 😳😂!
I gotta say, I'm kinda relieved it did feel and read like that. Rules will be put in place and arrangements made, but everyone, EVERYONE *looks to Lizzie 👀, knows where they stand. Are we all clear on that, Tommy? Lucy? LIZZIE??...ok good 😌 😂.
“As we’ve already discussed to exhaustion.” His jaw ticked. “I won’t do it.” I love how he adamantly refuses to agree to her plan at first. And I honestly think that it's not just him trying to convince Lucy of his love for her and her importance to him, but he genuinely doesn't want to do this!
Why was she even arguing for this so bloody hard? She should be happy that he’d instantly dismissed the suggestion the very first time that she brought it up. Hell, she was, from a purely selfish standpoint. But Lucy...😭. Urgh I felt for her in this part. Because in a way I fee like this is her way of being the better person, showing Tommy how she's not affected by the whole mess and that it won't affect her. She's putting on this strong stance on the matter but we know she's crumbling inside. And Tommy's constant refusal is his response to those feelings he knows she has. It's like an unspoken conversation between them about their insecurities, but they both know what has to be done 😩.
“That’s one hell of a way to propose to someone.” Suck it up Lizzie, it's that or nothing 😂!
“Technically you aren’t being proposed to until we know that you agree to our…conditions,” at least he's not sugar coating it. I gotta admit, I'm all for this business like attitude to this faux marriage. He doesn't want to give Lizzie false hope. He's learnt that she can be easily mislead into thinking otherwise, so he's definitely treading carefully, making sure everything is understood and clear.
Lucy struggled to meet her gaze when it shifted periodically over to her, guilt roiling through her like a tempestuous storm. She’d never been able to shake the feeling that if she were not around, Tommy and Lizzie may have actually stood a chance together. And she was pretty certain that Lizzie thought the same exact thing. Stop, nope nope nope! I won't have her beat herself up over this! And plus, we all know how they didn't stand a chance in the series. So...😌.
“I wish it was you,” he mumbled sorrowfully against her throat, and for a dreadful moment Lucy actually thought that she might start to cry. I mean, this nearly made me cry too 😭💔. God, he loves her so much. It's gonna be a real hard read if you have their wedding included in this series and anymore mentions of their honeymoon. I mean, what will Lizzie expect on their wedding night...on their honeymoon? I'm already anticipating Lucy's insecurities over these two moments, and I really hope Tommy stands his ground on both.
Looking forward to catching up with the next chapter as soon as I can, because I'm already falling behind and i hate being out of the loop 😭. Amazing as always, hun 😍!
Part 22: This Misery We've Made
Fandom: Peaky Blinders
Pairing: Tommy Shelby x OC
Summary: Approval numbers and public perception of Tommy's personal life force him and Lucy to face some painful realities.
Word Count: 3,519
Notes: Not really sure if I'm entirely happy with this chapter, but I've been fiddling with it for so long and I just need to move on. Hope you all still like it! Warnings for depictions of insecurity and references to past abuse and polyamory.
Previous Part • Series • Fic • Next Chapter
Chapter 1: Too Late
“No.”
Lucy sighed, looking pleadingly into Tommy’s glacial eyes as they hardened over with stubbornness.
“Tommy, love, we both know it would fix all of these problems…”
“As we’ve already discussed to exhaustion.” His jaw ticked. “I won’t do it.”
“Sweetheart,” she broke eye contact with him to look down at the papers settled in her lap. Her hands fiddled with her rings, gaze glued to the infernal numbers emblazoned upon the reports, as if staring at them hard enough would cause them to shift and change. “It’s not getting any better. If anything, it’s only going to get worse.”
“The constituents don’t seem to care,” he huffed, reaching into his pocket for his cigarette case. “Considering that they elected me.”
She frowned. “Because we bribed your way in. And besides, I’m not sure if a lot of them even knew then. You weren’t exactly shouting your marital status and Ruby’s parentage from the rooftops.” Not that he’d hid it, per say. He just avoided discussing it during the campaign and while in settings related to his work. “And they might not care now, but what about when your political rivals start harping about it in the press? They’re already using it to try to shut you out of certain things. Not to mention that arsehole from Oxford who keeps using it to try to cut down all your arguments in the house.”
“Fucking ridiculous,” Tommy shook his head, lighting his cigarette and releasing a puff of smoke from his lips up towards the ceiling.
They were seated in his office in the House of Commons, the big wooden double doors that led out into the workroom that she shared with the other secretary, Adam, closed. Not that they needed to be. Adam had already gone home for the evening, as had most of the other MPs and their staff. No one would be interrupting them. It was late, nothing but darkness and a flickering streetlight visible out the window.
She was still getting used to spending her days working in the offices of the House of Commons rather than the betting shop or the office in Birmingham. While the general decor and design of the building was not all that dissimilar–outside of just being bigger–there was something distinctively different about this place. A stuffiness and sense of propriety that served as a thin veil for the egos and superiority that radiated from so many of the men who sauntered through its halls. It was a bit of a shock to go from Small Heath, where just about everyone knew her name and she was decidedly near the top of the food chain as far as both authority and respect goes, to here where she was lucky if the MP just next door could even remember her name. In these offices, she was not the Red Demon, or even Lucy Winters. Here she was just Thomas Shelby’s Assistant. And was treated as such.
It wasn’t all bad, of course. She still got to spend most of her days at Tommy’s side, and the work was not that different from what she’d been doing for him before.
“I agree, but that’s the way that things are, love.” She shifted uncomfortably in her seat. “And your constituents do care. That’s what these numbers are all about,” she nodded to the report in her lap. “More and more of them indicated that while they’re happy with your performance and policies, they’re troubled by your conduct regarding your personal life.” She held out the papers, and he took them with a reluctant sigh, pulling his glasses from his pocket and sliding them onto his nose so he could look them over himself.
“Doing…doing this,” Lucy swallowed, unable to bring herself to utter the thing that, ever since Ruby’s birth–and certainly ever since he was elected–hovered threateningly over them. The guillotine teetering precariously above their heads. “It would help improve your standing with the more traditional and family focused members of your constituents. And might even open up some more doors for you here with the conservative MPs. God knows we already have a hard enough time working with them.” Bunch of racist, classist dickheads was what they were. All too eager to look down their nose at the man who had clawed his way from the bowels of Small Heath’s dirty streets to the halls of power. They already had enough reasons to attempt to shut Tommy out, they really didn’t need to be giving them anymore ammunition.
Tommy met her eyes, and she saw a crack appear in his resolve. Deep down, they both knew that she was right. This needed to be done.
Even if it was going to break both their hearts.
Tommy closed his eyes, head tilting up as he released another stream of smoke from his lips. His brow pinched with stress, the skin around his temples tightening.
She forced herself to be strong. “You know just as well as I do how important image is to the people we’re now surrounded by. And to the people you’ve been elected to serve. We can’t just…shrug off what other people think of our personal lives anymore. Presenting the image of a proper family will solve nearly all the current problems outlined in those numbers.”
His lips pursed. He was not seated behind his desk, but rather in the chair next to hers in front of it, one leg crossed over the other. One of his hands lifted to touch the side of his face, thumb moving across his lips while he examined her shrewdly and listened to her argument.
“We can’t ignore this forever. It has the potential to ruin everything you’ve worked so hard for.” She looked him hard in the eye, beseeching him to understand. He still just stared at her, clearly fighting against the knowledge that he knew she was right. “There’s only one clear solution that I can see that fixes pretty much all problems at once.”
How many times had they discussed this? Too many to count. And he always shot the idea down instantaneously. When Polly tried to push it harder on one of their more recent meetings, he’d nearly ripped her head off.
“Look, you know what my suggestion for a solution is. If you have any others, I’m happy to hear them.” She was suddenly in dire need of a cigarette. Sensing her need, Tommy silently held out the one clutched between his fingers towards her. She took it with a noticeably unsteady hand, bringing it gratefully to her lips. Tommy watched all of her movements closely, knuckles pressed up against his lips, frown still firmly in place. Picking up the report of his approval numbers, his eyes skimmed over the front page once more before tossing it onto his desk, removing his glasses and putting them back in his pocket.
The silence while he mulled over her words seemed to stretch on forever, only interrupted by the rhythmic ticking of the clock on the mantle. Lucy had to fight back the desire to fill it with more near nonsensical babbling.
Why was she even arguing for this so bloody hard? She should be happy that he’d instantly dismissed the suggestion the very first time that she brought it up. Hell, she was, from a purely selfish standpoint.
Tommy’s hand dropped from where it was resting against his lips to take one of hers, thumb running along her knuckles.
“I don’t want to marry Lizzie,” he said softly.
She met his gaze sadly. “I know.” I don’t want you to marry her either. But she knew if she told him that, she would never manage to convince him to go through with it. He’d refuse forever all on account of her feelings, even if it meant that he could lose everything he’d worked so hard for.
The idea that he could lose it all and it would be her fault made her feel sick with guilt.
“But we’re being backed into a corner here, love,” she chose her words carefully. “Being unmarried with an illegitimate child makes some of your constituents think that you don’t value families. If you want to stop your approval numbers from dipping, and even have a shot at reelection in a few years…”
“I haven’t even thought about reelection, yet.”
She gave him a look that was both stern and fond in equal measure. “Now, we both know that isn’t true.”
His lips quirked upwards slightly, eyes warming at how well she knew him. But when he scooted closer to her, sadness quickly leaked back into his expression, lips turning downwards.
“I don’t love her.”
“I know,” she repeated, feeling even worse at the spark of relief that statement brought her. Poor Lizzie.
He shot her a look of deep, unending regret, brushing some hair out of her face. Her eyes fluttered at the warm press of his palm against her cheek when he cupped it. “I promised you that I wouldn’t marry her,” he whispered.
“You said that you didn’t plan to,” she corrected, recalling the conversation when he first informed her of Lizzie’s pregnancy. The things he’d murmured to her whilst holding her on the floor of their bedroom while she cried. “Plans can change.”
“I am not leaving you,” there was zero room for argument in his voice, jaw shifting stubbornly.
“Lizzie might not agree to marry you if you don’t.”
Tommy shook his head. “It’ll be a marriage of convenience only. You and me still being able to be together is non-negotiable. I’m not budging on that.”
She smiled a little in spite of herself at his devotion, leaning her face deeper into his palm. “It feels terribly unfair to her.”
“She can always say no if she really can’t handle it. We’ll be clear about what it’ll all entail, so she doesn’t get the wrong idea about any of it meaning something between me and her. Besides, she’s been warmer towards you lately.”
That was true. Though who knew how long that would actually last.
Scooting his chair closer to hers, Tommy leaned forward, holding her face with both hands, forehead resting against hers.
“Are you sure you’re okay with it?” he asked urgently. Lucy swallowed hard. The thought of watching him stand up at an altar and make vows and promises to another woman, of having to live under the same roof as Lizzie and share him with her for the rest of their lives…
It burned harshly in her chest, cracks forming in her already fragile heart.
But she could live with it. It was a sacrifice she was willing to make if it meant that Tommy would not lose all he’d worked so extremely hard to achieve.
Maybe…maybe it actually wouldn’t be all that bad. He was right that Lizzie had been kinder and more amicable towards her as of late. Perhaps she would even be agreeable to all three of them sharing a bed from time to time, like they used to. And it would be nice to have Ruby in the same house as them so they could see her more. She and Charlie could be raised as proper siblings.
“Yes,” she said, unknowingly sealing both their fates. “So long as we don’t have to break up.”
“I won’t ever let that happen,” Tommy promised. She leaned in closer to him, hands resting on his forearms. Tommy gave her a little tug. “Come here,” drawing her from her chair, he pulled her into his lap, wrapping his arms around her and burying his face in her hair. “I love you.”
“I love you too,” she murmured into his chest, arms winding around his neck. “I hate to say ‘I told you so,’ but…”
He snorted, lightly pinching her hip. “Yeah, yeah.” Lips ghosting across her temple, he silently urged her face back enough so that he could kiss her softly. “I mean it. I won’t let us be torn apart.”
A small smile pulled at her lips, his reassurance like a band-aid over her fracturing heart while he kissed her again.
∗ ∗ ∗
“Well,” Lizzie said, adjusting her fingers around her cigarette, straightening in her chair. Even sitting down, she looked tall, the way in which she sat with her spine entirely straight only adding to the effect. She looked between Tommy and Lucy seated before her at the other side of the round table in front of the fireplace in Tommy’s Birmingham office. “That’s one hell of a way to propose to someone.”
Lucy winced a little at the underlayer of bitterness in Lizzie’s voice, looking down at her hands in shame.
“Technically you aren’t being proposed to until we know that you agree to our…conditions,” Tommy was much less phased by Lizzie’s reaction, puffing on his cigarette whilst eyeing her from around the vase of deep red roses on the table between them.
“I’m pretty sure that I know what those are already,” Lizzie huffed, shifting in her seat, briefly glancing at the fire crackling away in the hearth. She looked back at them, and gave a little gesture with the hand holding her cigarette for him to continue. “But let’s hear them anyway.”
Tommy adjusted himself in his seat, leaning forward with one of his arms resting on the table. When he spoke, his voice had taken on the commanding edge that Lucy had heard him use when giving orders to his men or family members.
“After we are married, you and Ruby will come to live at Arrow House. You will enjoy all luxuries that the home and the title as my wife offers. All we expect is that you help take care of the children and manage things that have to do with the household. You can continue to hold a position on the company’s board, if you’d like. But most importantly,” he glanced over at Lucy, holding her gaze steadfastly before turning back to Lizzie, “Lucy and I will still get to be together.”
The area around Lizzie’s lips tightened slightly. “So you aren’t offering me a real marriage, but only one of convenience.”
To his credit, Tommy did not flinch away from her stern, accusing gaze. “Yes; that’s exactly what I’m offering you.”
Lizzie leaned back into her chair, nursing at her cigarette as she contemplated. Lucy struggled to meet her gaze when it shifted periodically over to her, guilt roiling through her like a tempestuous storm. She’d never been able to shake the feeling that if she were not around, Tommy and Lizzie may have actually stood a chance together. And she was pretty certain that Lizzie thought the same exact thing.
“I want you to promise that you will be discreet,” Lizzie finally said very slowly. “I will not be publicly humiliated by my husband openly fucking another woman.”
“Of course,” Lucy nodded. They already had toned down most displays of physical affection whilst in public, presenting instead as simply colleagues who happened to be good friends. Gestures of romance were saved for behind closed doors. It was not unlike it was prior to Grace’s death, when the three of them had to practice restraint to avoid a scandal. “And we’re willing to make accommodations to make sure you and Ruby are comfortable.”
“Within reason,” Tommy interjected quickly.
“I want a honeymoon,” Lizzie said decisively. “A real one. With just you and me.” Her eyes wavered from Tommy to fix on Lucy, then darted back to him. Lucy thought she caught a glimpse of pleading in her face.
The mere idea of them going on a romantic vacation together without her left insecurity brewing beneath her skin, but Lucy forced herself to ignore it. Considering what they were asking of her, it felt like it was the least that they could do. “Okay.”
Tommy shot her a glance. “We’ll have to talk about it,” he modified.
Lizzie nodded. “Of course.” The clock on the mantle chimed. “I have to head home. I promised the nanny I’d be back by half past five. I can come by this weekend to work out more of the details if you’d like.”
“Yes, that would be good. You have a ride home?” Tommy asked, both he and Lucy standing after Lizzie stubbed out her cigarette in the ashtray and rose to her feet.
“Yes, Skudboat offered to drop me off.”
“Right. We’ll see you this weekend, then.”
“Give Ruby a kiss from us,” Lucy requested timidly. Lizzie shot her a smile that actually seemed half genuine.
“I will.”
They bid her goodbye, Lucy waiting until the door swung shut behind her before sinking exhaustedly back into her chair. She was struck at how transactional the whole exchange had been. Like ironing out a business deal rather than arranging a marriage.
The floorboards creaked under Tommy’s heavy footsteps as he approached her. Reaching out, he rubbed a hand up and down on her upper arm, bending to kiss her forehead.
“Are you alright?”
She stuffed the guilt bubbling up within her back down, locking it away in a far corner of her mind. “Yeah.”
“I can get out of the honeymoon if it makes you uncomfortable. Or insist that you come along.”
“It’s fine,” she probably said it too quickly to be convincing. “It’s the least that we can do for her, considering.”
“I don’t like the idea of going without you.”
“Me neither,” she admittedly, finally looking up to meet his concerned blue orbs. “But it’s just one week.” She knew him better than to expect that he’d be willing to take more than that off work. “We’ll live.”
He stroked her face tenderly, brow furrowing slightly. “You don’t have to give her everything that she wants. I know that you feel bad, even though you really shouldn’t, but…” he trailed off, tucking a lock of hair behind her ear, thumb brushing down her cheek. “If she pushes too far, if she’s unkind to you, or asks for something you aren’t comfortable with, all you have to do is tell me, and I’ll take care of it, alright?”
Nodding, she turned her face to kiss the center of his palm. “Thank you,” covering his hand with hers, she smiled weakly. “Congratulations on your engagement.”
“Ugh,” he made a face as though he’d just been told he was sentenced to be executed, rather than engaged to be married, and dropped his head forward until it was resting against her shoulder. Lucy wrapped her arms around him, burrowing her face into his hair, breathing in the scent of his soap and cologne. “I wish it was you,” he mumbled sorrowfully against her throat, and for a dreadful moment Lucy actually thought that she might start to cry.
“I know.” And though she did not say it–for fear that if she did, he would call the whole damn thing off and throw his reputation and all professional prospects in the bin–they both knew the words circulating within her head:
Me too.
When he first brought up the topic of marriage, all the way back in 1918, before Grace had even walked into their lives, she had told him that it was not something she was sure that she wanted. She was still living with the trauma of being previously engaged to a monster who hurt and abused her, and the only example of marriage she’d had was the loveless, horrific mess that was her parents. It was something he’d respected, unconcernedly promising that marriage or no marriage, he would still love her forever.
After Grace died, the topic had passed briefly every once in a while across her mind. With times changing and modern perspectives growing in popularity, it was no longer a necessity that she stop working if she were married. And with the slow passage of time, the idea of marriage no longer seemed to her like a cage to be bound and gagged within. She knew that Tommy would never expect her to change simply because he placed a ring on her finger.
But she didn’t bring it up to him, both of them were still aching too terribly from Grace’s death. It was too soon. For them personally, for Charlie, and for either of their reputations.
And then the vendetta had happened. And for a bit of fun they took Lizzie down to the canal for a fuck like they so often did before Grace stepped into their lives.
If only she hadn’t still been so messed up on the topic the first time that he asked. If only she’d expressed her changing feelings on the matter with him before Lizzie got pregnant. Maybe things would be different.
She could not say anything about it now. If she did, he would abandon this plan that was poised to solve so many problems for him. Not to mention that marrying her instead of Lizzie would create a whole new set of issues for him to deal with, some with the potential to wreck everything he’d accomplished.
It was too late.
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#tommy shelby#thomas shelby#tommy shelby x oc#tommy shelby fanfic#tommy shelby series#tommy shelby imagine#peaky blinders#peaky blinders fanfic#peaky blinders series#peaky blinders imagine#cillian murphy
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my stomach freaking hurts
#im going to be personal in the tags for a moment. nothing too bad just talking#rewatching until dawn has made me recontextualize a lot of things both in real life and in the game but for now im going to talk about the#in real life. i was best friends with someone named chris from ages 11 to 18. we dated for a MAJORITY of those years. he was my best frien#friend irl and we did almost everything together and were insanely codependent on eachother#he was extremely abusive. mostly emotionally/physically. he was also ableist#i was convinced i abused him for years until i reached out to an ex friend of ours (his ex gf. my ex bff. i introduced them)#and she proceeded to tell me he also physically/emotionally abused her in the same ways and would make fun of me constantly#in their relationship. he had a weird obsession with me. hes the reason i was witch hunted off tumblr for kinning ouma and all that harras#harrassment i got and still continue to get on my more popular rp accs. he stalked me irl. would learn my work schedules and usual routines#to show up and watch me to it. he also brought his girlfriend my ex friend with him multiple times and used her email to make accs to stalk#me. she apologized for that. i forgive her because she was also being abyused by him at the time. i get it#but the thing is until dawn and chris are inherently connected because they were our core kins for years. obviously.#he still goes by chris irl. ive gone by a different name because the association scared me#but i dont know. ive been given time to process everything outside of a family that LOVED him and his family#and refused tyo believe any of this and that it was 'that bad' and thought i was a bad person for not giving him a chance#and i dont know#until dawn but specifically realizing that chris IN GAME sucks too has like. made me really really examine how badlyall of that affectyed m#and attempt to process it and move on and i feel like this is just. helping me a lot#i feel like its helped me get more affectionate with my current partner and be more comfortable and happy around them instead of walking on#egg shells. and i feel like its been helping me work on my internalized ableism too#its just been nice#txt#abuse //
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Papa Is The Best : ̗̀➛ Daniel Ricciardo
summary: pregnancy is pretty tough for you, but luckily for you you've got the best man in the world there to always help you out when you need him
The little things that you used to find so easy suddenly became the hardest jobs in the world. Whilst you loved the fact that you were growing your own little human, it sure came with its moments when you wanted to give it all up. Luckily for you, Daniel was right by your side, always on hand with his wide smile.
“I’ve got these,” he told you, nudging you gently out the way as you went to pick out the grocery bags from the boot of the car, refusing to let you pick them up.
“I can carry one, they’re not that heavy.”
“No,” Daniel simply smiled back at you, struggling to hold onto all of the bags, but doing it anyway, not even giving you the chance to try and take one of them from him.
It was all the little things that Daniel did that took you by surprise, although you always knew that he was bound to be the most amazing father, you never expected him to prove himself so early. He had done plenty of research, constantly had his eyes on you, he was on it with everything.
At times it felt like you barely even had a second to breathe with Daniel watching over you. Any little thing that needed doing, he was there, if a task even looked as if it might be too tricky for you with your bump, he wouldn’t even let you try it, he’d just step in straight away and be there.
“What are you looking for?” He asked as he noticed you on your tiptoes, trying to look up into the cupboard for your favourite mug.
Before you even had chance to respond Daniel was there, arm draped over your shoulders as he followed your gaze. “Just that mug there,” you told him, pointing to the blue one that hid at the back of the shelf.
Daniel hummed, rising with ease and swiping the mug from the cupboard. “Are you wanting a cup of tea?”
“I can make it myself.”
“Nonsense,” he scoffed, putting the plug down on the kettle, “you go, relax, grow our child, I’ll make the cup of tea for you.”
˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚*
It was when you really started to suffer though that Daniel became your own little hero. In the blink of an eye, you found yourself huffing when you tried to stand up, or sighing because you couldn’t find the strength to turn yourself over in the middle of the night when your baby was unsettled.
“Oh no,” you muttered one afternoon, immediately capturing Daniel’s attention.
He rushed up from his seat and over to your side. “What? What is it?”
“It’s finally happened.”
Daniel looked to you with urgency and panic, trying his best to figure out what the problem was. Nothing seemed to be the matter, but he could never quite be sure with all the changes your body was going through.
“I’ve finally reached the stage in pregnancy when I can’t tie my own shoelaces anymore,” you cried out, throwing your head back in disbelief.
Daniel did the same as you, but his in relief, glad that it wasn’t something more serious. “You can’t scare me like that love, I thought you were about to go into labour or something.”
˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚*
The moment when your bump really started to show that made Daniel’s heart swell however. He knew you were struggling for confidence as your stretch marks began to get more prominent, but he had never found himself more in love in his life. He laid back on the bed as you grabbed your cream to try and minimise the effects of the marks.
It hurt him to see you when you had those darker days, how you twirled around in the mirror and looked at the changes your body had gone through. Most of the time you knew how much of a beautiful thing it was, but there were those days sometimes when you weren’t quite so convinced. Today was one of those days, where you were frantic, desperate almost, to make sure that you took the best care of yourself.
His eyes watched intently as you squeezed some out into your hand, massaging it all over your bump to make sure you covered it all. You were just about to finish when Daniel’s tall figure appeared behind you, taking the cream from out of your hand.
“You missed a bit,” he told you, squeezing some into his own hand. He knelt down so that he could get underneath your bump, his fingers gently running along the bottom to cover the marks that you’d missed.
“How are you so attentive?” You chuckled, watching Daniel closely.
“Because I can’t get enough of you, especially whilst you’re pregnant.”
˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚*
His favourite time of the day was after you had finished your routine however, the time when you’d tuck yourself into bed and feel Daniel snuggle up behind you. His hands would dance over the top of your bump in search of any sort of movement from your little one.
Every time there was a little kick or a wriggle, laughter would come from behind you. It was something that Daniel just couldn’t get used to, no matter how hard he tried. Each kick hit him with disbelief, still stunned that the small human that was making those movements was weeks away from meeting him, weeks away from making him a father.
There were no words spoken between you both at night, as Daniel knew just how tired you were. He didn’t need to say anything though, just having him hold you was enough, and for him, being able to cuddle up to you and your bump was an indescribable feeling that he’d never get used to.
˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚*
With just a handful of weeks remaining, Daniel withdrew himself from work for a while. After a couple of near misses between you and a few accidents, he decided that he couldn’t let you out of his sight any longer.
“Where are you going?” He asked every single time you stood up from the sofa, refusing to let you out of his sight.
“I’m going to the toilet, if that’s alright with you?”
“Maybe,” he jokingly replied, “are you sure you can get there without any help?”
“I reckon I might just be alright.”
Although Daniel let you go, he still muted the television and hovered by the door to the living room, listening out just in case. He much preferred to be safe than sorry, even if some people did think he was a little too overprotective of you.
˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚*
That protectiveness came to the forefront when Daniel noticed you hunched over in the kitchen one afternoon. He almost smiled as he saw you, not that you were in pain, but that his latest bit of research could finally be used. As quietly as he could, Daniel came up behind you and placed your hands underneath your bump, lifting it gently.
A sigh of relief came from you as soon as the weight of your bump disappeared, tilting your head back so that you rested against Daniel’s chest. It was the most comfortable you had felt in your eight months of pregnancy, unable to believe the difference that Daniel had made.
“Where did you learn to do that?” You whispered, your voice much brighter than Daniel had heard it in a while. “It’s heavenly.”
“I read about it on a website, they said that it makes you feel like you’re not carrying your bump for a while,” he smiled down at you, pressing a kiss against the top of your head.
A hum came from you, not wanting Daniel to ever move from the position that he was in. “I can’t begin to tell you how much I appreciate this right now Daniel.”
Seeing you so content was all that he ever wanted, at times during your pregnancy he felt pretty helpless, but right now he felt as if he was doing the best job in the world. The weight of it was nothing to Daniel, but he couldn’t imagine carrying it around all day like you did.
Your hands rested on top of your bump, keeping your eyes glancing up at Daniel. “I hope our baby knows that their papa is the best,” you whispered.
“He’s only the best because he’s got such an amazing woman whose about to be their mummy,” Daniel softly smiled in reply.
“I don’t say it enough, but thank you for everything you do for me. It turns out being pregnant is pretty tough.”
“You don’t ever have to thank me,” Daniel chuckled, “I love being here for you, sometimes I wish I could do more.”
“What you do now is perfect, you’re perfect.”
“I’m only perfect thanks to you my love.”
˗ˏˋ 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 ! ´ˎ˗
#f1#f1 imagine#daniel ricciardo imagine#daniel ricciardo#formula 1#formula 1 x reader#f1 x reader#formula 1 imagine#formula 1 x you#f1 fanfic#f1 reaction#formula one#daniel ricciardo drabble#daniel ricciardo x you#daniel ricciardo fluff#daniel ricciardo x reader#formula one x you#formula x reader#formula 1 drabble#formula one x reader#formula one imagine#formula 1 fic#formula 1 fanfic#f1 drabble#f1 fluff#f1 x you
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Pilot!Reader x TF 141
Friendship Headcanons
Warnings: cursing
Words spread like fire about your amazing skills in the air. Every team that got assigned to you and your helicopter comes back home safe and sound.
Captain Price demands your transfer to his team after you had the honor to do a mission with the Task Force 141. He only chooses the best of the best to work with.
“John! You can’t demand every good soldier I have for your team.” – “Laswell, I can and I will~”
Needless to say, but Laswell is more than pissed since you are one of the best pilots if not the best pilot on the base, but Price always get what he wants.
With your quite sassy and funny demeanor you win the hearts of the tough men rather quickly.
“Dear Task Force 141, this is your pilot speaking. If you look to the right side of the helicopter you can see Eagle 3 challenging us to a race. So, please keep seated and hold on for dear life because shit is about to get real~”
The team making bets between you and the other pilot of Eagle 3. In the end, you always win.
At first the team makes fun of you naming your helicopter Valkyrie, but after a little nosedive after a hard mission they stop very quickly. They really made the mistake of underestimating you and your helicopter.
Valkyrie actually was ready to be dropped out from the military due to old age. It was love on first sight for you. It took weeks to convince Laswell but, in the end, you got the old birdy and brought her back to her glory. It came in handy that you are literally blessed with a mechanic soul.
In your free time you love to try out new things to improve Valkyrie for the next mission. Gaz really wants to help every time, but ends up standing in the way most of the time.
“Can you give me the screwdriver for the Fillister Head screws?” – “Uh…. this one?” – “Nope, there most be another one.” – “This one?” – “… You know, Gaz, the windows are in need for a good cleaning. Could you do that for me?”
You hit him with the puppy eyes and Gaz goes to clean the windows like you asked. In the end he is just happy to be there with you :)
Soap is really fascinated with the weapons Valkyrie carries for the missions. You always take your time to explain and show him everything. Here and there he is also allowed to help you out during missions to kill a few of the enemies. That makes him literally so happy like a little boy in the candy shop.
Nevertheless, you use every single chance to mess with Soap. Sometimes Price joins you just for the fun of it.
“Get away from my baby, Soap.” – “I’m not doing anything!” – “You are way too close and I don’t like how you look at her.” – “What the hell?” – “Do what (Y/N) says, Soap!” – “But, Captain!” – “No buts.”
Gaz and Ghost know exactly what is going on and try to hold in their snickering.
With you there is literally not a single dull moment before, during and after missions. The boys love and life for those moments.
Once you left behind one of the soldiers because he got on your nerves before take-off.
“Eagle 2, where are you going?” – “Uh, Urzikstan.” – “You forgot one of the soldiers. He’s banging on the window here.” – “Yeah, we kind of had a fight and he’s an asshole so I kind of had to kick him out. I’m sure Eagle 3 has enough space for him.” – “Eagle 2, you can’t do that. Cancel takeoff clearance!” – “Oops, I accidentally put the throttles to TO/GA. See you later alligator~”
Or the other time on the way back to the base.
„Watcher 1, we request medical at the gate. Uh, we beat up another stowaway…” – “Eagle 2… YOU DID WHAT?!” – “Uh… yeah, we found him halfway back to base and he refused to leave the helicopter so we beat him up and tied him like a present gift on Christmas morning…” – “I am not dealing with this! Land like always and contact ground for medical aid.”
To Laswell’s displeasure you take your sweet time after missions to come back to the base. Here and there you make a little stop at the next fast-food chain.
“I think the drive-through will not do it. Someone has to go out and order at the counter…”
Those encounters with Laswell over the comm create a quite close bond between the two of you over the time.
“Look, who’s back!” – “Don’t even say it, Watcher 1.” – “You were supposed to land five hours ago?!” – “You should be happy we came here at all~” – “How about you land on time for once. That’ll make me happy.” – “We got burgers. Do you want one?” – “YOU GOT WHAT, EAGLE 2?!” – “Burgers…” – “… You will be the death of me … Get them over here fast, Eagle 2.”
Of course, Kate would never admit it out loud that you are her favorite pilot.
“Oh, Eagle 2!” – “Shut up and let me concentrate!” – “Five hours late again. At least butter this landing.” – “We are not Eagle 3. At least we know how to land.” – “Let’s learn how to come in on time next… Did you secure the goods?” – “Sure, Watcher 1. Your usual order coming right to you~”
Captain Price lost count how often you saved their lives with Valkyrie. They trust you blind and know you would do anything to bring them back home. But during one special mission you show how the team really mean to you.
“(Y/N)! We need air support! We can’t get to the evac point!”, the team needs your help, but you ran out of ammo a few minutes ago. You know exactly that they won’t make it without your help. This is the hardest and easiest decision at the same time you have to make.
“It was a good time we had together, Valkyrie”, you say your goodbye to the helicopter before you let crash your baby into the pack of enemies.
“NO! (Y/N)!”, the men are devastated to see Valkyrie go down knowing exactly you must be in the helicopter. Their hearts shatter. They couldn’t save you.
“Boys, come on! We need to be at the evac point in five minutes. Eagle 3 will get us!”, you stumble around the house corner quite out of breath. “You are alive!”, they can’t believe their eyes.
“Not much longer!”, you grab the first one by the hand to drag them into the direction where Eagle 3 will collect you. Once in the helicopter you are all safe and sound for now and on the way back to the base.
“(Y/N) … you crashed Valkyrie … for us?”, Gaz looks at you with his big puppy eyes. You only shrug with your shoulder not trying to think about the helicopter trashed into thousand pieces, “I really don’t want to talk about her.”
It might sound strange, but you are mourning Valkyrie like the helicopter would have been a real soldier. You had spent so much time with her. She was part of your family.
Of course, the team would make it up to you as good as they can. So, one day Gaz comes up to you with a blindfold, “Put it on.” You shake your head immediately, “Not for anything in this world.”
He defeats you with your own weapons. The puppy eyes. You put the blindfold on and get dragged over the whole base until you lose track of where you are actually going. “Oh my god, Gaz! I’m getting really sick.”
“TADA!”, he pulls down the blindfold. For a second you were blinded from the sunshine, but then it hits you. “We can’t give you Valkyrie back, but how about Valkyrie II!”, Soap exclaims pointing at the new helicopter. The whole team looks so damn proud of themselves for gifting you an even better helicopter.
“Thank you, boys. You are too sweet”, you get wrapped up in a big bear hug. “So, you know, Laswell doesn’t want you to know she gave us the money to purchase the new helicopter”, Price tells you with a smile on his lips.
“I chose the interior of the helicopter and the color!”, Gaz exclaims and points at Valkyrie II.
“I was responsible for the weapons! I can show you everything!”, Soap adds.
“I coordinated everything”, Price shrugs his shoulders.
You look at Ghost. He holds up an air freshener, “I want it to smell good.”
#cod mw#cod imagines#mw x reader#captain price#captain price x reader#ghost#simon riley x reader#john mactavish#soap x reader#kyle garrick#gaz x reader#kate laswell#laswell x reader#friendship headcanons#mw hc#cod headcanons#tf 141 x reader
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Nah you're absolutely right, they absolutely did do Theo dirty. Scott and Derek fucking rewarded Deucalion after he was responsible for two of their pack members deaths. He manipulated Scott & Derek multiple times to get them to join his pack. (Shit so did Peter.) And yet, and yet Theo is the only one severely punished. Like it was honestly disproportional to his crimes. The doctors started dream visiting Theo when he was like 7 or 8 years old and then kidnapped him when he was 9. He didn’t get out of their grasp/sphere of influence until he was 17.
okay so can we talk about how dirty they did theo??? not even the whole thiam thing (which totally should have happened, you can fight me on that).
but like the hellscape they sent him to?? like I know he killed people. but so did Peter. so did Chris. so did Jackson. and yeah Jackson in particular had extenuating circumstances. but you're telling me theo didn't?? like he was kidnapped, experimented on, and raised by literal sociopaths from the age of what?? 9?? he probably spent years trying to make friends with the other chimeras before they became failures and died!!
the Dread Doctors mess with people's minds and memories on MULTIPLE occasions and you expect me to believe that that little child maliciously pushed his big sister to her death?? for what?? no, I refuse. I refuse to believe that a nine year old child (in their right mind) decided to murder their older sibling. no. either the Dread Doctors fucked with him like they did Tracy or they killed Tara and made Theo believe it was him.
I also refuse to believe that that was actually Tara that dragged him to hell. no matter what the dessert fox ladies said. I firmly and immovably believe that that was Theo's own creation. that his subconscious believed that this is what he deserved for what happened to Tara. that his own guilt was literally trying to rip him apart.
I acknowledge that without the hellscape Theo would not have been the Theo that anyone would even want around. but I am thoroughly mad about the hypocrisy on everyone involved's part.
The only reason they punished Theo is because he almost beat them. Stiles HATED Theo because he outsmarted him. Malia hated Theo because he tricked her. Liam hated him because he used his own mind against. Scott hated Theo because Theo managed to rip his pack apart and actually killed him. (I will make an exception to the hypocrisy on Malia's part cuz that is actually on brand for her.)
And again he did kill people, but his eyes are still gold/yellow. he never killed an innocent. not like Peter or Chris or Jackson or other characters I am forgetting (leaving out Malia and Derek cuz Malia's was her mom's fault and Derek's was Peter's fault, technically Jackson's was not his fault but the point stands) oh like Deucalion and his alpha pack.
and if someone says that his eyes don't change color bcuz he is a chimera, maybe. just maybe. but can you name someone he killed that had not already killed someone (besides Scott and that is iffy)
i will retract any of the above points if feasible contradicting evidence is found. I am also very, very open to discussions about and additions to my argument.
#Scott & his pack are supposed to save people and give them second chances#how many chances did Peter get? 4? 5?#how many did Chris get? again what? four or five?#let's not fucking forget Gerard!#and yet theo got no chances. no chance to redeem himself.#just shoved into the skinwalkers prison and left to rot- if it wasn't for Liam they would've left him there#like idk man. seems fucky to me.#like I get Scott was murdered and that coming back from the dead does something to you- makes you a little colder but. idk#((also time to throw in my thiam braincell))#Liam is always going to represent freedom & safety to theo. neither of them are going to be able to stop it. it just is#Liam pulled theo out. Liam convinced Scott theo wouldn't go off the deepend to keep him above ground#Liam was the first person to show theo genuine kindness and expect nothing in return#that's why theo is always going to be loyal to liam more than anyone else#also sorry for the addition to your post and then long winded rant in the tags#I just really like theo :3#theo raeken#teen wolf#liam dunbar#scott mccall
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hiii can you pls do seventeen x grovelling? like what lengths would seventeen do just to get you back??? 😭
seventeen x groveling
warnings: none! besides it's cliche and annoying but we love
seungcheol is the type to literally beg. he will show up to you, sulking and pouting, trying to convince you to get back to him on his knees for you. he's so whiny and desesparate, tugging on your legs and shirt like a dependent kid.
jeonghan knows all your schedules by heart, would not so innocently show up at the places you've been. his heart racing when he actually sees you there, approaching the cashier to buy your favorite food and asking to land it to you with a note of apology and love to you.
joshua is the type to come with flowers and chocolates, he'd even say he's writing a song for you so he can have you back. the roses in hand and the guitar wrapped around his shoulders.
junhui is cheesy but doesn't know what to do for you... he'd actually show up with a big plushie and heart air balloons, a stuttering speech that he had prepared and rehearsed beforehand.
soonyoung is in love and will let everyone know. he's the real deal, like screaming and crying like a desesparate man, hanging on any chance or any minor space you give him for some touch.
wonwoo is also the type to send you flowers. but will just leave it at your door, with a little note of his name, saying he misses you and needs you back. he will still try to convince you on a date.
jihoon have written way too many songs about you, doesn't think it will work to have you back. expect him to write you a big handwriting letter or a cd with all the songs, also the ones you haven't heard, or actually, he'll give both to you.
seokmin emotional side really shines here, he gets a bit sensitive thinking it was all his fault. he'd flood your phone with messages like "what went wrong?" "what did i do?" "i do anything to have you back" and yes... when the courage creeps through, he will definitely call you crying.
mingyu is gaining you back by the belly, like being for real, he's cooking you everything. delivering your favorite dishes by him at your door and making cookies with cheesy quotes.
minghao would actually come to talk, praying you'd consider. to hear everything you have to say and work on being better for you. he'd reply "i do anything to earn you back" so nonchalantly like it wasn't the craziest thing you've heard.
seungkwan definitely won't stop texting you. asking if you take your vitamins/pills, if you have eaten, and for that will send you delivery of your favorite foods to your work and home; "do you want me to go pick you up from work?" as if he's trying to sugarcoat you're still together or will.
vernon doesn't fool me, this man would cry, like cry until his nose is red, begging to have you back. he'd apologize for things he didn't do and more just not to sit with conformation. hear me out when i say this... he can't live without you.
chan is texting long texts, sending flowers, shouting on your window... i mean, haven't you seen wait mv?? the real hopeless romantic, he's just so desesparate to have you back, don't want to wait and waste time, he will tell you that.
#boofeine inbox#seventeen#was wannabelife#svt headcanons#svt scenarios#svt x reader#seventeen x reader#seventeen headcanons#seventeen scenarios#svt fanfic#seventeen fanfic
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dude I'm fine I don't know whats with the big deal people make about not sleeping for 3 days straight lol (shaking, trembling, can't breathe smoothly, at risk of passing out at any moment now, oh no)
#weirdly enough my brain is thinking pretty clearly just fine#though thats probably the sheer panic that has been running through my veins for over 8 hours now keeping me going#and honestly i would be like ''bro i feel normal''#if it werent my body physically showing me that its all fucked up rn lmao#though idk if the shaky breath is the exhaustion or the sickness i have rn that's making me cough and sneeze a lot#could be both!#anyway the only reason i am acting fine about this is bc my professor took pity on me and is giving me more time to complete my shit#so i am okay now! i just havent gotten my body to be ok again yet but it will be fine. eventually#sometimes it does pay to be a goody two shoes like me and forcing to walk into finals knowing i would fail#bc that convinced my professor that i deserved that second chance#there are ppl who did not show up at all so. me being here on the brink of death means a lot i guess#idk the lesson here is give a shit bc ppl will realize ur not fucking around + have a good opinion of ur integrity#time manage better#and also coffee apparently does taste good it only took me being so fucking desperate to not let myself sleep to enjoy drinking it#anyway really looking foward to sleeping again when i get home tonight#rando thoughtz
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Put it on My Tab
bouncer!!logan x bartender!fem!reader
summary: You’re a bartender at the club where Logan is a bouncer and he’s going to deny his feelings for you until he’s convinced himself that he’s lost his chance.
cw: hurt/comfort
“Do you really think you can get away with this?” Logan asked the girl who was standing in front of him. She clearly wasn’t of age and the photo on the fake she had handed him hadn’t even resembled her. And the cherry on top that was that “Minnesota” was missing one of the n’s.
“And do you really expect me to believe that you were born in 1988? You don’t even look like you could have been born in 1998. I can’t let you in, kid.” He could see that the girl was crying and to the untrained eye, she definitely could have been. But Logan had been in the business long enough to know that she was just trying to garner sympathy, which never worked on him. Crying, if anything, just made the man feel uncomfortable.
“You’re such a dick,” she cried as she watched him bend the ID right before her eyes. It wouldn’t be the first time he was called that and it certainly wouldn’t have been the last.
The ID was tossed into the trash can right next to him and he waved the next person forward as the girl slowly moved out of the way, making her sobs louder and more pathetic as a way to get him to change his mind, but he wouldn’t. He never did.
“You’re good,” he told the man as he glanced over his ID before handing it back. The job got monotonous, but it was definitely better than being Wolverine, as far as how easy it was. And it definitely wasn’t stressful unless there was a fight he needed to break up, but security usually handled it before he got there.
He actually loved his job, if he was being honest, but that was really only because of you. The second he laid eyes on you, he was convinced that he was in love. Maybe. He didn’t know what love felt like, but all he knew was that he liked you. A lot. Even though he was going to convince himself that he didn’t. He tried to be mean to you to make you leave him alone, but that only made you want to see him more. And let’s be honest, as soon as you flashed him that megawatt smile, he was done for. His legs felt like jelly and he couldn’t help but smile back even though it felt very foreign.
And as soon as you told him he had a pretty one, he was smiling all the time for you, just begging for you to say it again, and you did. If it wasn't that, you were calling him nicknames which would have usually angered him, but since they were coming from your lips, he hardly minded.
The night seemed to drag on as he counted down the minutes until he could have a drink at the bar, just you and him as everyone else had gone home. You had insisted on staying, giving him a drink in exchange for a ride home that he always gladly gave you once the alcohol was out of his system.
He smiled as he saw that his glass of whiskey was sitting on the bar, but you were nowhere to be found. He supposed that maybe you were in the back, neatening up the space. But when he went to check the back room, his heart sank as he saw you giggling with Brett, the bar back.
He had seen the two of you doing that exact thing on multiple occasions and it made him sick, angry even. Even though he didn’t feel like he had a right to be because the two of you were just friends. And perhaps that was what he was convincing himself that he was to you. Even though he wanted to be more. Even though he often fantasized about kissing you right in front of Brett to show him what was what. And on some occasions, he imagined bending you over the bar and having his way with you. Pounding into you, making you tell him who exactly it was who owned your cunt.
“Oh, hey, handsome,” you greeted with that smile that always drove him crazy and he couldn’t help but mimic your actions. Because the truth was that he couldn’t be mad at you if he tried. You somehow had broken down his walls brick by brick and had even managed to thaw his frozen heart.
“Hi,” he replied, trying his best to not let his literal claws come out, trying to keep his cool and do those breathing exercises that you had worked on with him.
“Hey, Leonard, was it?” Brett asked, averting his gaze to Logan and the man was close to rocking his shit, you could see it.
“It’s Logan,” you corrected. “I’m all good here, Brett, if you want to head out.”
“Okay, cool,” he nodded and clapped you on the back before weaving his way through the maze of boxes, moving quickly past Logan and fleeing the room, leaving the two of you alone.
You stared him, covering your lips with the tips of your fingers in an attempt to hold back the laugh that was threatening to escape your throat. And Logan was not having it. The night was long and he was just ready to go home, his whiskey that he so desperately wanted, getting watered down by the second.
You stepped forward, pushing the boxes out of the way, moving to stand on front of him. Your arms wrapped around his shoulders and you gave him a warm smile only for him to turn away from you, his signature scowl making its way back upon his face.
Without a word, you grabbed hold of his chin and forced him to look you in the eyes, still trying to hold that smile, desperate to see his own, the one that was specifically for you.
“Smile for me,” you commanded, your voice still soft. He showed you his teeth, but there was no actual smile. “Logan,” you giggled. “Just for me? Please?”
He smiled then, showing you his teeth and you felt your heart swell, knowing that you were the only person who could make him do it. And your heart leapt as you saw it slowly appearing on his face, pulling him into a hug.
“I’m not with Brett, by the way,” you changed the subject rather quickly. “He’s just a friend. More like a brother actually.”
"What?" He asked, his eyebrows furrowing and you desperately wanted to smooth them out, to find a way to help his mind stop from reeling.
"I'm not with Brett," you repeated, closing the space between the two of you, reaching up to move a piece of hair that had fallen to his forehead, putting it back in place.
“You say that as if it’s supposed to mean somethin’” he muttered, his signature frown making a reappearance.
“I thought it did," you shrugged. "Because if looks could kill, he’d definitely be dead.”
He just glared at you and you smiled again, wrapping your arms tighter around his neck while his stayed by your side. His hands were itching to hold you and he was trying to fight it off, trying to convince himself that he wasn't so desperately, hopelessly in love with you.
"And it should mean something to you." Your finger poked his chest and he just stared back at you, clearly missing the point of what you were trying to get at.
"Why?" His head tilted to the side like a little puppy and you just sighed, wondered why he wasn't understanding what you were trying to say. Wasn't it obvious? Maybe you were being too vague, but you were sure that you had said everything you could to get your point across except the actual words.
"Because," you rolled your eyes. "Look at the facts, Logan. We both know I get a lot of people asking to take me home every night and I let the grumpy bouncer drive me home. What does that say to you?"
"That you aren't looking for anything." You let out a sigh of frustration and shook your head, making Logan even more nervous. What was it that you needed to tell him and why did you need to say it in the back room of your place of work?
"Oh geez, I guess I'm going to have to spell it out for you, aren't I?" You chuckled nervously and Logan felt his heart pound in his chest as it all finally clicked in his head. Your hands rested on his cheeks and you looked into pretty hazel eyes.
"Logan, I'm in love with you," you said, watching his his widen, his mouth falling open as the six words set in. He just stared at you in response and you were beginning to take that as rejection.
Your arms slipped from his neck and seeing the look on your face was enough to break his heart into a million little pieces. And as he watched you make you way your way out of the back room, he could have sworn that he could see you wiping tears away from your cheeks.
You were leaving. You were leaving and he was just going to let you. You were quickly slipping through his fingers as the seconds passed and he felt sick to his stomach thinking about the possibility of losing you.
So he ran. He ran as fast as he possibly could, following you out to the parking lot where you were heading to your car that you had actually driven there for once. You stopped to pull your keys out of your purse and Logan took the chance to stand in front of you, stopping you from moving.
"Get out of my way," you commanded, but he just stood there, staring you down.
"No," he said firmly. "Not until I'm done speaking. And then you can keep hating me, but I need to get this out, okay?" He took a deep breath before speaking again. "I'm in love with you," he said. "I'm so in love with you that it hurts. I've never felt this way about anyone and honestly didn't think that you reciprocated my feelings, so when you told me that you loved me, I don't know...I just panicked." He was talking a mile a minute and you honestly barely understood him, ut you got the jist.
"So please don't leave," he pleaded his hands finding your waist. "Stay, because I don't know what I'd do with myself if you left."
"You love me?"
"More than you'll ever know, doll," he replied and pulled you into a kiss, neither of you bothered by the loud sound of your keys and purse falling to ground as your arms found their way to his neck once again. "Now let's get out of here."
"But what about the whiskey," you asked against his lips and he just chuckled.
"Just put it on my tab," he replied before pulling you in for another kiss.
You stayed like that until the early morning, kissing and giggling to each other, sitting on the hood of your car to watch the sunset together then heading back to your place for some much needed sleep before talking about how you were going to move forward over coffee and breakfast.
#logan howlett#logan howlett x reader#logan howlett x fem!reader#logan howlett x you#logan howlett x y/n#logan howlett fluff#wolverine#wolverine x reader#wolverine x fem!reader#wolverine x you#wolverine x y/n#wolverine fluff
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that kind of love never dies | chapter one
summary: the one where barbara thinks about an act of rebellion.
pairing: jake x mc
word count: 1.3K
warnings: tkolnd takes place after the events of episode 10; cover images found on pinterest; english is not my first language.
author’s note: even though she lives in the usa, my main character, barbara, is brazilian. i added terms and expressions that we use in our country, as well as cultural elements, to this fanfic. the words that appear in portuguese are highlighted and you can contact me if you have any questions.
masterlist
Barbara was sprawled out on the dorm carpet, reading a Lucy Maud Montgomery novel she found by chance in the university library, when her cell phone began vibrating on the nightstand. Without wasting time, she closed the book and got up, waiting to hear from her roommate, Meera, but, when Barbara swiped her finger across the lock screen, she found some text messages from an unknown number.
i would like to invite you again to eat something at that chinese restaurant
if you want to meet me, just show up there tomorrow
i'll be waiting for you :)
Her head started to throb just at the possibility of it being who she was imagining, but she quickly pushed the thought away.
Jake wouldn't put himself in danger like that.
After everything that happened in Grimrock, Duskwood's chief of police, Alan Bloomgate, personally went after her to conduct the interrogation, and, more than once, made it very clear that it was best for her to stay away from her new friends for a while. He didn't go into detail when he told her about what happened at the Ironsplinter Mine, but he confirmed that Richy was alive — despite having some serious injuries — and that Jake had fled from the FBI agents during the confusion caused by the explosion.
All the messages she sent and received during that time became evidence. Barbara had what it took to close Hannah Donfort's case literally in the palm of her hand, including the kidnapper's confession.
Consequently, she also had the means that could lead the people who were after Jake straight to him.
She was interrogated by the FBI countless times for months, until Alan decided to intervene and convinced her to hand over her cell phone to them in exchange for her old life. Since then, Barbara has not been part of the joint investigation. Or at least that's what they say — she's too smart to really believe that.
For a few seconds, she considered the chance that it was someone trying to play a trick on her. The video Lilly Donfort posted accusing her of kidnapping had gone viral across the Columbia University campus. Even her grandmother, who lived in the interior of Brazil, found out about her involvement with a hacker wanted by the North American government. However, no one else knew about the brief conversation they had about the chinese restaurant.
Except, of course, the FBI.
Without a doubt, it was a trap. Barbara felt her face turn red. It seemed that solving an old international murder case, giving up her privacy, being forced to abandon her group of friends and possibly cheating on the guy she was in love with was not enough. She also needed to act as bait when it was convenient.
Barbara huffed, irritated. Little did they know that Jake had no contact. Their partnership in crime had ended almost a year ago.
Still, there was no reason to decline the invitation. She could very well take advantage of the opportunity to tell some truths to those nosy agents, and as a bonus she would have an excuse to go to Germany without Alan being able to question her too openly.
Her lips lifted into a smile as the plan emerged in her mind.
After going through customs at Zurich Airport, picking up luggage and going to an exchange office to exchange some notes, only an hour and fifteen minutes by car separated Barbara from Duskwood. Luckily, there were several yellow taxis forming a line next to the sidewalk, because it would be a nightmare to have to deal with someone trying to compete for the same vehicle as her.
She walked out of the lounge, pulling her hot pink rolling suitcase, and turned on her smartphone to announce on the family's group chat that she had arrived safely. But before she could check her contact list to see if her parents were online, she collided with a young man's broad chest.
She jumped away from him, apologizing — or at least trying to — in german. He laughed softly, grabbing her arm to stop her from tripping over herself, and for a moment, Barbara forgot to even breathe. The young man seemed to be a few years older than her, he was tall, had dark hair and prominent round eyes that resembled the curve of a teardrop, he was wearing a white sweatshirt with a hood and black jeans.
“I'm sorry, I didn't see you.” He spoke in english, with a slight accent.
“No problem, it was my fault.” Barbara quickly straightened up, realizing that she had somehow stared too long.
The young man analyzed her from head to toe with amusement before bending down and picking up the cell phone that had flown out of her hand during the impact.
“I believe this is yours.” He joked, handing the device to her.
“Thank you.”
He nodded curtly and turned, making his way through the travelers entering and exiting the airport, as silent as a wraith.
She was inexplicably disappointed to see him leave, however she had more important things to deal with. Then, she handed the luggage to the driver to put in the trunk and got into the taxi, giving the address of the Gates Hotel, on the outskirts of Duskwood.
Barbara ran across the room, feeling the cold floor beneath her feet. She was considerably late, but as far as she remembered, she had never arrived on time to participate in the interrogations, so whoever was waiting for her at the restaurant wouldn't mind too much. She put on a black strapless dress, put on her highest heels and curled her wet hair with her fingers, leaving a small trail of water on the floor.
Through an opening in the peach curtains, she noticed that the rain had picked up outside, beating violently against the window pane. She cursed under her breath, hoping someone at the front desk could lend her an umbrella, and before Barbara could procrastinate her meeting with the FBI Special Agent any further, she took one last look at the floor mirror near the entrance hall, realizing that she was dressed for revenge.
“Someone would definitely approve of that.”
Smiling to herself, she went down a small flight of stairs to the ground floor, where the girl at the reception was reading a magazine with Nicholas Galitzine's photo on the cover.
“How can I help you?” She asked in english, without taking her eyes off the celebrity gossip.
“Hey, how you doin'? Could you lend me an umbrella, please?”
“Of course.” She said, reaching for the object under the counter and handing it to her. “A fee of two euros will be added to your room bill.” Barbara sighed, surprised, as she mentally converted the currency. “What?” The receptionist looked up, frowning. “Did you think it would be free?”
“No, obviously not.” Barbara lied, smiling politely.
“Return it by midnight or I will have to charge the full value of the item.” The girl announced, turning her attention to the magazine. Then she added: “Nice dress.”
“Okay, I'll pay when I check out.” She assured, walking towards the glass doors while opening her rented umbrella. “And thank you.”
“Have fun, Cinderella!”
Barbara regretted walking out the door as soon as she set foot on the sidewalk. Not just because of the rain, but because of the wind blowing your hair back. In any case, she had come too far to give up, and despite the storm, she could see the lights of the chinese restaurant through the blue haze a few meters ahead, on the other side of the street.
Before she could take another step, someone grabbed her arm and turned her around.
“What?” She blinked in amazement at the handsome young man she had met at the airport.
“Come with me.” He said, pulling her away from the hotel entrance.
“You are crazy? I do not know you!” Barbara shouted, dropping the umbrella near her feet. The rain completely drenched them both in moments. “Me solta!”
“Barbara, please.” He asked, breathing short.
The sadness in his voice stopped her struggling.
“How do you…?” She gasped, eyes wide. “Jake?”
taglist: @daniiiworlds; @labemquarts; @deinily
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why did you leave me (cl16)
part3!
multipart story! prev || next
summary : charles and y/n have always been best friends. but y/n has been in love with him forever. when charles starts dating a new girl, out of respect y/n distances herself. but how much is too much?
✦ pairing - charles leclerc x female reader
Charles sat on his couch, scrolling through his phone, his heart feeling unusually heavy. Camille was sitting next to him, engrossed in her own world. He had tried to ignore the gnawing feeling that something was missing, but it was becoming impossible to ignore.
"Hey, Camille," he said, trying to keep his voice light. "Do you want to watch that new movie tonight? The one with all the great reviews?"
Camille looked up, her expression indifferent. "Sure, I guess. But I was thinking we could go to that new club instead. It's supposed to be really exclusive."
Charles forced a smile. "Yeah, we can do that."
As Camille continued talking about the club, Charles' mind wandered to Y/N. He missed how effortlessly they used to hang out, how they didn't need to impress each other or go to fancy places to have a good time.
A memory flashed in his mind: he and Y/N, curled up on the couch, watching an old black-and-white movie. She had insisted on watching it because it was a classic, and he had reluctantly agreed. But by the end, he was hooked, and they had spent hours discussing the film’s nuances.
"Y/N, how do you always find these hidden gems?" he had asked, genuinely impressed.
She had laughed, her eyes sparkling. "It’s all about the story, Charlie. You just have to give it a chance."
He glanced at Camille, who was now talking about which outfit she should wear to the club. He tried to engage, but his heart wasn’t in it. He missed Y/N's spontaneous adventures, the way she always made the simplest moments feel extraordinary.
Another memory surfaced: their late-night drives with the windows down, singing along to their favorite songs at the top of their lungs. They never needed a destination; the journey itself was the adventure.
"Remember that time we got lost and ended up at that little diner?" he had said to Y/N, laughing.
Y/N had grinned. "Best pancakes ever. Totally worth it."
Charles sighed, feeling a pang of longing. He looked at Camille, who was now busy on her phone, and he felt a sharp contrast. He tried to shake off the feeling, but it lingered, growing stronger with each passing day.
Later that evening, as they were getting ready to go out, Charles' phone buzzed. He glanced at it, hoping it was Y/N, but it was just a notification. He realized he hadn’t heard from her in days. The absence was like a void, growing wider and more painful.
"Camille, have you noticed that Y/N hasn’t been around much?" he asked, trying to sound casual.
Camille shrugged, not looking up from her mirror. "Maybe she’s just busy. People get busy, Charles."
"Yeah, I guess," he replied, but his heart wasn’t convinced.
He remembered the countless times Y/N had dropped everything to be there for him, whether it was to celebrate a victory or console him after a loss. Her presence had been a constant in his life, a source of comfort and understanding that he now realized he had taken for granted.
"Do you want to invite her tonight?" Camille asked, her tone slightly annoyed.
Charles shook his head. "No, it’s okay."
As they arrived at the club, the noise and the crowd felt overwhelming. Charles found himself wishing he was anywhere else, preferably in a quiet corner with Y/N, sharing a deep conversation or a comfortable silence.
He excused himself and stepped outside, needing some fresh air. The night was cool, and he leaned against the wall, pulling out his phone again. He stared at Y/N’s contact, his thumb hovering over the call button.
Another memory hit him: the time Y/N had sensed he was feeling down and showed up at his door with his favorite ice cream and a goofy movie to cheer him up.
"You know me too well," he had said, his heart warming at her thoughtfulness.
"That’s what best friends are for," she had replied with a wink.
Charles sighed, feeling a deep ache in his chest. He missed her so much it hurt. He realized that Camille didn’t understand him the way Y/N did, and he felt a growing sense of frustration and loneliness.
When he returned to Camille, she was dancing with a group of friends. She waved him over, but he hesitated. The distance between them felt insurmountable, and he couldn’t shake the feeling that something fundamental was missing.
That night, as he lay in bed, his thoughts were consumed by Y/N. He knew he had to do something, but he didn’t know what. All he knew was that he couldn’t keep pretending everything was fine when his heart was screaming for the one person who had always been there for him.
And with that, he made a decision. He would talk to Y/N, find out what was going on, and try to fix whatever had gone wrong. Because losing her completely was something he couldn’t bear to face.
taglist : @hiireadstuff @starz4me1 @f1fantasys @aundercover @ohthemisssery @ggaslyp1 @hadids-world @matcha---matcha @f1luvrur @ihtscuddlesbeeetchx3 @timmychalametsstuff @janeh22 @ironmaiden1313
#charles leclerc#charles leclerc x reader#charles lecrelc#charles leclerc x you#charles leclerc imagine#charles leclerc x female reader#charles leclerc x female!reader#f1 imagine#formula 1#formula one#y/n#best friends#ava speaks#charles leclerc fanfic
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my girl
pairings: bucky barnes x female!reader
summary: based on the request below!
Warnings: smut 18+ only - established relationship, quick mention of reader being a teacher, minorrrr angst (like not at all), mentions of anxiety, fluff fluff fluff, smut (unprotected sex, public sex, creampie, nipple play, spit kink), use of pet names (sweet girl, baby) - let me know if i missed any please :)
word count: 2842
a/n: not beta read or really edited lol. Also my first time writing in months so this is kinda shit.
Feedback, likes and reblogs are much appreciated :)
I do not give permission for my work to be copied, reposted or translated on any other platform. Do not read or interact if you are a minor.
masterlist
“How do I look?” You ask Bucky as you walk into the kitchen, twirling slightly to show off your outfit.
“Beautiful as always doll.” He walks towards you and brushes his lips against your forehead. “Don’t be nervous, they’re gonna love you.”
Bucky always knew how you were feeling, even when you were trying to hide it.
You take a deep sigh before replying, “I just want to make a good first impression, I know they’re important to you.”
“Not as important as you are doll.” You feel his smirk against your forehead as he brings himself closer for another kiss.
“Forever the charmer Buck, I love you.”
“I love you too,” He grabs your hand and pulls you towards the door, “come on, we don’t wanna be late.”
You try to stop in front of the mirror to check how you look once more but he stops you, “Stop worrying baby, you look perfect.”
“I just want them to like me.”
“And they will, I promise”
Everything about your relationship with Bucky had been amazing so far but the idea of meeting his friends, the people who had been there for him since he became himself again, before you even knew each other, was terrifying. If they didn’t like you, what would that mean? Sure Bucky says you’re the most important person in his life but no matter how hard you tried you couldn’t convince yourself that if his friends didn’t like you then Bucky would dump you.
“Baby, you have got to stop worrying. They’re gonna love you.”
“You don’t know that Bucky.”
“But I do..” He trails off his words to show you how confident he is about this. Your lips come together in a little pout, which Bucky finds adorable.
It was only a 15 minute drive to the tower where the rest of the Avengers lived, you were secretly hoping there would be some traffic to hold you up but the roads were nowhere near as busy as they usually were. Bucky could feel the anxiety radiating off you, he wished he could take it away from you, there was really 0 chance that his friends wouldn’t love you, but you were naturally an anxious person and he knew that so he did what he knew comforted you and rubbed circles over your hand on the drive there. You appreciated him for trying to comfort you but your anxiety would not ease up. You’d never felt this nervous before, you must’ve completely zoned out for the rest of the car ride because what felt like only a minute later had actually been 15 and you were pulling up to the tower.
Bucky had a quick chat with the gate attendant before driving through the gates and parking in his designated spot.
“You ready doll?” He asks, turning himself towards you with a soft smile on his face.
“Mhmm, let’s go.” You were not ready but you didn’t want to ruin Bucky’s night, it’d been a while since he’d seen everyone with all the missions everyone had recently been on and you knew he was excited.
He quickly climbed out the car and made his way to your side, always insisting on opening your door for you. When you get out he holds his hand out for you and you immediately grab hold of it. He pulls you closer towards you and plants a gentle kiss on your forehead before whispering to you. “I promise baby, it’s gonna be fine.” You shoot him a quick, almost forced smile, and nod, showing you were ready to go in.
It only takes a few minutes to get up to the living quarters side of the tower, and now a quick elevator ride was the only thing between you and people Bucky loves. As the elevator started to slow you took a deep breath and readied to walk out. As soon as the doors open you can hear a loud laugh boom through the room followed by a quiet chuckle beside you. It had only been a couple seconds and Bucky was already so happy to be back here.
As you turned the corner your eyes quickly scanned the room trying to put names to faces of everyone Bucky had told you about. Obviously you knew everyone's superhero names, but to Bucky they were his friends, his family, not superheroes. Suddenly everyone had turned your way and you realise Bucky had made both your presences known. You felt like all eyes were on you and Bucky could tell your nerves had shot up, so he lightly gave your hands a squeeze.”Hey guys.”
“Hey Bucky!” Sam shouted over and began walking towards you. “You must be Y/N? Bucky’s told me a lot about you.”
You nod towards, who you knew to be Sam, as much as Bucky told you they weren’t best friends, you knew that they were. You smile and hold your hand out to shake his. “That’s me, nice to meet yo-” Before you could finish, Sam pulled you in for a hug.
“We’re all about hugs here. You’re part of the family now.” You can’t help but laugh and hug him back. You really appreciated him being so welcoming, he was the one person you were most worried about not liking you. From what Bucky told you, he was very protective over the people he cares about.
“Alright Wilson, don’t scare my girl away.” Sam pulls away and moves to Bucky to give him a hug as well.
You look at Bucky and smirk, "Your girl, hm?” He looked confused for a split second before the tips of his ears started to turn bright red and his usual smug smirk disappeared when he realised what he’d said.
“Sorry doll.” You weren’t sure why he was apologising or why he was embarrassed. “I didn’t mean to sa- sorry.” You’d never seen someone's skin turn so red as fast as his had in this moment.
“Don’t be, I liked it.” You whisper right next to him, hoping no one else heard. Before he could respond to you, more voices filled the space around you.
“You could’ve just asked for a hug too Bucky, besides if you haven’t scared her off already, I don’t think much will” Sam teases.
“So your girl? Must be serious. I’ll expect my wedding invite any day now. Bucky’s face was only growing redder and he couldn’t look anyone in the eye, forcing his gaze to the floor. His hand was rubbing the back of his neck, something you knew he did when he was embarrassed. You took a small step closer to him and rubbed your hand on his arm, showing you really didn’t mind the nickname, in fact you loved it. A small smile was starting to form on his face but before you could see it grow any more a voice pulled you away.
“Alright Wilson, stop hogging them. The rest of us want to introduce ourselves as well.” You instantly recognise the face as Clint, someone who Bucky truly owed a lot to. He had let Bucky live with him and his family for a bit when he needed some time away from the city. The memories of Steve leaving and his past life got too much to handle and he already felt like he had imposed too much on Sam and his family. He would forever be grateful for Clint and Laura taking him in, he really felt a part of their family, so much so that their kids had started calling him Uncle Bucky.
Clint put his hand towards yours and introduced himself, “Hi Y/N, I’m Clint. Sorry about him, I promise we’re not all as crazy as him.” You laughed at his joke and shook his hand. It’s lovely to finally meet you Clint, Bucky’s spoken a lot about you.”
“It’s all lies.” He jokes before moving onto Bucky and giving him a side hug.
“Laura and the kids here too clint?”
Clint shook his head before moving to stand in front of you both. “Sorry Buck, they had some school things on, but they made me promise to ask you to visit soon, and to bring your girl!” Clint replies with a wink which makes you laugh. Bucky couldn’t stop his huge smirk from reappearing as Clint called you his girl.
As they continued talking more people made their way over to you and introduced themselves. First there was Joaquin and then Sarah and her boys. The boys completely skipped saying hello to you and ran over to their uncle Bucky before Sarah called them back to apologise. They came back and introduced themselves and with a little nudge from Sarah apologised for rushing past you. “That’s okay, I know you're excited. It was very nice to meet you both boys.” They shook your hand and ran over again to Bucky.
“Sorry about them, I swear they love Bucky more than they love me sometimes.” Sarah smiled at seeing how nicely you fit into the group and gave you a hug, just like how Sam had to show you that you were welcomed. Once all the introductions were done you all sat down in the living room. You were the main topic of the conversation, everyone was interested in knowing how one person had completely changed Bucky’s life.
“So Y/N,” Wanda started, “Bucky said you’re a teacher?”
“Yeah that’s right.” You slightly laughed aftwards, not because it was funny but you were slightly panicking being the centre of attention around all these people. Especially since some of them were literal superheroes. “I know it’s not as exciting as you guys but I enjoy it.”
Everyone quickly spoke up and defended you against yourself. Especially Sarah and Clint, with having kids they knew how important teachers were. It felt good knowing that they thought that of you, even though you were still feeling anxious, everyone had been so welcoming to you and you weren't sure why you were so nervous.You didn’t notice but Bucky was looking at you as you spoke, his eyes were a tell tale sign that he was so proud of you. He knew how hard you worked and loved when you got the recognition you deserve.
“What age do you teach?” Joaquin asked next.
“Oh erm, at the moment I teach second grade but I’m hoping to move up soon.”
“It must be hard, kids are annoying little creatures.” Sam says, looking at Cass and AJ for their reactions, they both shout “Hey!” before Sam tickles them.
Another voice starts, you’re not sure who but doesn't get far before Bucky interrupts. “Alright alright, stop grilling my girl.” His girl. “I haven’t seen most of you guys in months, what’s been happening?
You look at Bucky and smirk when he calls you his girl again and it only takes a few seconds for him to realise what he’s said again and he can’t help but smirk, knowing that you like it.
The rest of the night went well, you felt like they all really liked you. Before you knew it, it was around midnight and you were working in the morning so had to get home.
“Again, it was really lovely to meet all of you! Thank you for a great night.” You say as you head for the elevator, Bucky following close behind.
“Make sure to tell the boy’s I said bye, Sarah!” Bucky shouts, “Clint, let’s plan a trip soon. See you all later!” Bucky shouts through, the elevator doors just cutting him off.
As soon as the doors shut you lead your head against his shoulder. “You okay sweet girl?”
“I’m good, just tired.”
“You have a good night?”
You nodded against him, “I’m sorry we couldn’t stay longer.”
“Hey,” He moved slightly and held your head in his hands, bending over slightly to be eye level as he spoke. “We stayed plenty, I know you have work tomorrow, and plus..” He moved closer to your ear to whisper. “.. I couldn’t do this in there.” He lowered one of his hands to your ass and squeezed before pressing you both against the elevator wall. He moved his lips against yours and kissed you, it was a desperate kiss. “You like being my girl huh?”
You can’t help but giggle when he calls you his girl again. You bite your lip before answering. “I do..” He lowers his hand to the hem of your dress and traces his fingers over your inner thigh
“Fuck baby, I nee-” The ding of the elevator doors opening interrupts you both. “Fuck!” Bucky curses everything stopping him from touching you right now. He presses the button to close the doors and immediately after presses the alarm button. The elevator makes a clank noise before it goes silent again, the only sound being you trying to catch your breath after that kiss. Bucky goes back to kissing you but starts on your neck and starts going lower and lower. When his teeth graze over your nipple through your dress you push him back slightly.
“Bucky we can’t here..” You whisper, knowing he can hear your heart beating, you needed him just as bad as he needed you.
“Baby.. I’ll fuck my girl anywhere I want to.” He says before returning to your tits. You bite back a moan which Bucky notices. Your sex life from bucky wasn’t boring by any means but it had never felt as intense as this. The thrill of being in public was sending chills through you.
“Oh shit.. Bucky please.
He lifts your dress up and pulls your panties to the side, using his other hand he unties his jeans and pulls them down enough for his already hard cock to fall out. He rubs his hand over it a couple times and looks at you. “Spit on it for me.” His words send flutters through your stomach and down to your pussy, and you do as he says.
“You ready?”
You nod as you answer, “Pleasee.”
He lifts you up and rubs the tip of his cock against your pussy, gathering your slick before he pushes in. “Fuck, my girls got such a tight pussy.” He keeps pushing until he’s fully in, hitting that spot that makes you grab onto his shoulders, your nails digging into him, which he likes. “You feel so good baby.”
“Fuck.. Bucky please..” He feels so good but his thrusts are slow and you need more.
“What do you need?” He smirks at you, knowing exactly what you need but waiting until you ask for it.
“Fuck me..” Your head falls back, Bucky’s hand cups it to stop it hitting the wall. “Please.”
He chuckles at the desperation in your voice, “Anything for you my sweet girl.” His thrusts fasten and you feel yourself racing towards your high. You use your hands to steady yourself as he fucks into you. You bite your lip to stifle your moan but Bucky doesn’t like that. “Don’t do that baby.. Don’t hide your pretty little noises. I wanna hear you. Want the whole tower to hear how you sound when I fuck you.”
“Fuck.. Bucky you feel so good. I think I’m gonn-”
“I know baby, it’s okay. Let go for me.” He moves his hand from behind your head and wraps it around your neck. The cold from his touch and him speeding up was enough to send you over the edge.
“Fuckkkk.. Bucky I’m cum- I’m cumming.”
“Oh Fuck.. I’m there too, baby.” He groans, almost whimpers in your ear. “Feel s’good baby.” He slows his thrusts down as you both come down from your highs.
When you don’t respond he looks at you. “You okay?”
You can’t speak but you nod your head.
“You all cockdrunk?”
“Mhmm.”
“Such a good girl for me.” He strokes the side of your face and plants a soft kiss on your lips. “Let’s get you home, sweet girl.”
He slowly inches out of you and sets you down. You stumble a little and grab onto his shoulder to steady yourself.
“Thank you Buck.”
“You don’t need to thank me, come on let’s get you home.” He puts his arm around your waist before reaching over and pressing the alarm button again.
The doors of the elevator open and Sam is standing there, his eyes bulge open before he laughs. You immediately stand up straight and try make yourself look like you haven’t just been fucked moments before but it was obvious.
You feel your skin warm at being caught but Bucky just laughs beside you like it was no big deal. “I should’ve known it was you two lovebirds causing trouble. Now I know no ones really stuck, I’ll see you guys later”
“Bye Sam.” You manage to mumble before Bucky pulls you closer, you look at each other and have to hold in your laughter.
“See ya Wilson.”
“I love you sweet girl.”
“I love you more.”
#my girl#wwilsonbarness#marvel#bucky barnes#sebastian stan#bucky barnes fanfiction#bucky barnes x you#bucky x reader#buckybarnes x y/n#james buchanan barnes#bucky barnes fic#bucky barnes smut#bucky barnes request#bucky barnes fluff#bucky barnes fanfic#bucky barnes imagine#bucky barnes angst#bucky barnes x reader#bucky barnes x female reader#bucky barnes x y/n
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Dating The BroZone Brothers 🎤🎶
Tags: Gender-neutral reader, Fluff, Some Angst (mostly for Branch lol), Also Broppy isn't canon here, obviously. But I love them dearly so don't come at me!
Follow me @taruchinator for more structured content and/or feel free to leave a request here in asks. Enjoy!
John Dory
We all know this man is a bit self-centered, and that doesn't stop at your relationship.
He'll find any opportunity to show off for you— anything from singing, to dancing, to just his ‘incredible leadership skills that make him the perfect boyfriend!’
He also definitely introduced himself as a member of the old boy band BroZone, which you may or may not have heard of, which may or may not have left him flabbergasted.
Despite all his faults though, John Dory will do his best to be a good partner for you. It's what you deserve, after all!
Keeping you safe from wild creatures, making sure you're always happy because he loves your smile, and also being the overprotective boyfriend who'll square off against anyone who even dares to make you uncomfortable even if they're 10x his size.
Small detail, but he also loves the fact that Rhonda took a liking to you instantly.
“She knows how to pick the good ones,” he'd say with a wink.
Talks about his brothers CONSTANTLY, but always in a way that makes it seem like he doesn't care and that it's their fault the band broke up in the first place. He obviously really cares about them, though.
Some nights, he'll reflect and regret all the stuff he said and did to them, and wishes he could go back and make it right. You reassure him through most of it, trying to convince him that he was young and just didn't know any better.
He stares at you in awe and disbelief because how could ANYONE think that what he did was justifiable? Abandoning his younger siblings all because of his stupid ego and personal insecurities.
“I really don't deserve you...”
Give him some time he's just emotionally constipated.
Also you BET he's gonna show you off to his brothers once they're reunited, so just let him. He just wants the most important people in his life to meet.
You can also expect them to try and embarrass John Dory with stories from their childhood, so be ready to have a good laugh as your boyfriend plots for murder in the background.
Spruce/Bruce
Probably the one who's best equipped to be in a relationship out of everyone in the group.
He is a family man, after all.
Speaking of which, if you think him settling down in the movie and having kids of his own was cute, it really is! But that just indicates that he has a way with children.
If you have a child or younger sibling, expect them to get dotted and taken care of to DEATH by this man.
He may not have been the sensitive one of the group, but was definitely the most reliable of the eldest, so he's got experience handling little trouble makers that come his way.
He still opens a cantina in Vacay Island, which is where you two met for the first time, and so you help run it occasionally whenever you have the chance. And even though you don't go there 24/7, all the regulars just think that you're the co-owner since you're dating Bruce.
You're the one who finds out that he's actually ‘Spruce’, the member of old boy band BroZone. You just happened to stumble upon an old record he kept in his room, and after confronting him about it, he reluctantly confirms your suspicions.
It was hard to recognize him since he was much older now and his body had definitely... grown over the years.
Bruce doesn't like preaching about those days, since he's quite embarrassed of the ‘immature ladies man’ he used to be back then.
But he won't deprive you of them either, since he'll happily share any stories on his misadventures with his brothers, funny backstage incidents, etc.
He misses them dearly and wishes they're all doing okay.
Two words: Hopeless. Romantic.
He's ‘The Heart Throb’ for a reason.
Roses, chocolates, dances— he can do it all!
Bruce will always make time in his busy schedule to spend time with you, taking you on dates to your favorite spots around the island, getting you meaningful gifts, and just overall expressing his love for you in any way he can.
He loves singing to you because it always serenades you and it puts a smile on his face.
People always joke that he's going to propose to you out of the blue one of these days, which always leaves him a flustered mess, but he never denies either.
“What can I say? I might be waiting for the perfect opportunity...”
Clay
Poor baby doesn't know what he's doing but he's trying, okay?
The two of you meet in the abandoned Bergen Golf Course, where you and Viva welcome him with open arms, and everything pretty much plays as in the movie, except that he really likes spending time with you and ONLY you, which he doesn't quite understand?
You're the one to ask him out cause otherwise you'd be playing this back and forth forever. He says yes.
He's never had a partner before, so he's justifiably worried that he'll mess up in some way, or that you'll end up finding him too boring after a while.
This becomes much more apparent after a particular bad night, in which after mumbling incoherently because of a nightmare, you find out that he has brothers and used to be in a boy band.
He doesn't open up about it at first, so you give him some space and reassure him that you'll be there when he needs you. Just give him some time and he'll tell you eventually.
He talks about how he could never be himself, since he was always expected to be ‘The Fun One’, and now he's basically tried to become the complete opposite in hopes of gaining some control over his life.
But he also worries that others will think he's too dull, and that he just isn't interesting enough to be around. Especially you.
You immediately take his face in your hands and look him in the eyes.
“I fell in love with Clay. Not ‘The Fun Troll from BroZone’ Clay. Also, you're fun in your own way!”
He basically falls for you all over again after hearing this.
After that, he becomes slightly less uptight and allows himself to enjoy the little things. You sometimes actually catch him dancing when he thinks no one's looking and you find it's the most adorable thing in the world, even after he realizes he's not alone and wants the earth to swallow him whole.
“Don't mind me, I'mma just crawl in a hole for a while...”
“No, no- Babe, it was amazing! I loved it! Pleaseeee show me more!”
Overall, he's a pretty good boyfriend all things considered.
He's incredibly overprotective of you, and will always give you advice and tools he thinks will be helpful if you're thinking of venturing outside of the Golf Course.
He asks Viva for dating advice CONSTANTLY and she DOES NOT let him live it down. Of course she has good ideas, though.
He'll pretty much do anything for you, even if it means going out of his comfort zone.
Floyd
Another great candidate for being in a good relationship.
Need I explain myself with this man?
His entire personality revolves around being caring and understanding, so he's definitely always on the lookout for anything that makes you sad or uncomfortable and will fix it ASAP.
Floyd is the kind of person who will ask for consent with pretty much anything you do— from holding your hand, to kissing you, to giving you a hug; he will ALWAYS make sure that you're okay with it even if you've given him the green light in the past.
He's not huge on PDA due to his somewhat shy nature, but if you are, he'll try his best to keep up with you.
This doesn't mean he dislikes physical affection, in fact it's his love language. He'll go out of his way to try and sneak in as many hugs as possible throughout the day and maybe a kiss or two if you'll allow it, which of course you do.
You also try your best to get involved in his own interests, because that's only fair after everything he does for you.
It isn't until one day that he sings for you that you compliment him and he nonchalantly comments that he used to be in a band when he was a teenager.
Cue the reveal of him having four brothers and you begging him to tell you all about them.
Which he does, but you can't help but notice the melancholic expression on his face, so you immediately stop him and apologize for being pushy on the matter and that he doesn't have to share anything he doesn't want to talk about.
He only looks at you with a small smile and shakes his head.
“No, I'm glad you asked. I haven't talked about them in years, so I like remembering the good times, even if they're in the past now.”
So he'll go on and on about them, one by one, and go into excruciating detail about what kind of person they are and what he loves about them. He's especially fond of his little brother Branch, based on everything he tells you.
When he gets kidnapped by Velvet and Veneer, you immediately go to Branch for help.
Once you're reunited, you two basically run to each other and hug with tears streaming down your eyes.
“Did they hurt you?!”
“No, I'm okay! Did they hurt you?!”
“Who cares?”
“I do!”
Floyd is then incredibly happy to introduce you to his brothers, who begin to affectionately tease him about getting himself a partner and you happily step in to protect him from any unwanted bullying.
You also tell him that you like the new hairdo, which only causes him to giggle and kiss your forehead affectionately.
Honestly you guys probably have the healthiest relationship out of the whole group.
Branch
I was really debating whether to include him or not since there's many Branch Reader Inserts out there, but I don't wanna leave my baby out so here we are!
You have a classic childhood friends to lovers situation with him, since you've known him ever since he was a member of BroZone, only being about a year older than him.
You'd help him practice for his concerts and would always give him pep talks whenever he felt worried that he'd ruin the show.
You're basically his number one fan— never missing a concert even if it meant dragging your parents with you so they'd let you get in.
The moment the group disbands and Branch is left all alone, you're there for him and wait alongside him for his brothers to return, reassuring him that ‘siblings would never break a promise’.
Cue his whole childhood trauma and him losing his colors, but it's only because of you that he doesn't completely isolate himself from society. He still builds his bunker though, since he's pretty much scarred for life thanks to the Bergens.
Just like with Clay, you're the one who takes initiative and asks him out, and he's just left gaping like a fish because why would you want someone like HIM?
After reuniting with John Dory, he's also dotting you about how big you've gotten and treats you like a baby, which actually irks Branch much more than it does to him.
He makes sure to remind his brothers that you both are grown adults, thank you very much.
Once the band gets back together, you kinda become a manager of some kind and help them in organizing their performances. Branch is eternally grateful and thanks you for staying by his side all these years.
#dreamworks trolls#trolls 3#trolls band together#trolls branch#trolls john dory#trolls clay#trolls spruce#trolls floyd#trolls x reader#trolls reader inserts#branch x reader#john dory x reader#clay x reader#spruce x reader#floyd x reader#fanfic
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- Give me my sin again
Arthur Morgan x Female reader
Request- " if Arthur has a secret lover that he tells no one about and he goes to see her when he can after jobs maybe.shes so kind and devout and good that he thinks he doesn't deserve her. But he be besotted with her obsessed to worship the ground she walks on. Arthur not believing in anything but finding this good woman and wanting to be good for her but maybe knowing he can't
A/N- this is mostly a kind of dive into Arthur's head I like it idk. I also paired this with a request I had about bathing Arthur. It kinda fits. Anyway this is a lil shorter than I normally write but life had been lifing lately Imao. And this got me back into writing something for the first time in a lil bit so! Do enjoy.
Warnings- 18+ | some religious imagery, a small chunk of smut right near the end (oral, R receiving) { wc- 3.4k}
Masterlist | AO3
Arthur was not a good man . He feared he never had been. Not really. No matter how many people could try convince him otherwise. He wasn’t. He was bad. He did bad things. A good man didn’t murder, rob, manipulate.
He was no saint. So incredibly far from it.
And yet with you? Well… he felt he could be.
You with your delicate hands that soothed his bruised and battered skin, your voice like that of an angel on his shoulder that spoke to him with an airy tenderness that he did not deserve.
He was not a holy man. And yet for you he would renounce all sin and drop to his knees to beg for forgiveness and retribution. The only deity worth worshipping in his eyes. His slice of heaven always waiting to chase the darkness from his mind. If just for a few hours.
He was drawn to you like there was something mystical in your words, hypnotising him, controlling him, luring him in with nothing but a smile. He would find himself stumbling his way to your door, just to drop down at your feet and beg. Beg for you to erase his sins and show him grace, Allow him the privilege of being in your presence for a while. Because in that awful, terrible world he’d found himself in… nothing felt right but you.
And so there he was again. At your door. Standing there in the rain as he waited for you to answer. His knuckles bruised on the wood in the night, praying you’d be awake, two rabbits slung over his shoulder. As if they could be excuse enough to spend more time with you.
That he had brought you supplies. And that of course he wouldn’t mind skinning them for you. No it really wasn’t a bother.
Though deep down he knew he didn’t need an excuse. That you would always welcome him in with open arms and at times had even begged him not to leave again. But he always felt like he needed the excuse… maybe more to convince himself of something rather than you.
He knocked again. Hoping, praying you were still awake.
And you were. As if you’d been waiting. Maybe you had. But probably not. It has been weeks. 3. 4? He wasn’t sure. But weeks . Weeks that had felt like some kind of condemnation for his sins, being punished by having to stay away. Dutch in one ear, Strauss in the other. A gaggle of others behind him.
Like some guard dog sent out to attack. Kill. Rob. Threaten. And he was tired. Exhausted. He’d no chance to slip away, no chance to sneak his way to your cabin.
But he was there now.
And so were you.
“ Arthur” you looked ethereal. Stood there in the doorway, backlit by the lamp in the room behind you. You didn’t sound surprised to see him. More relieved than anything.
He knew he worried you. Knew you must be sick with it when he went away for weeks on end, no sign he was alive other than another article on the front of the paper about Dutch and the gang robbing something or other.
He walked in as you stepped aside, standing in the warmth of your small home. He’d arranged it for you some time back. Some place to keep you safe.
“ I missed you “ you said, your arms wrapping around his rain soaked torso. Your head resting against his chest, breathing out like you had just received your first gasp of air after being held underwater for too long.
“ I missed you too “ he murmured, his free arm wrapping around you. Strong. Secure. Steady. You were grounding, dragging him out of a haze he had been stuck in to coax him back to reality “ brought you these “ he said, his voice low. Gruff even. He felt like he couldn’t raise his voice in there. That if he did the illusion would shatter and he’d wake up in his tent. All of it some cruel dream to taunt him.
“ thank you “ you said, your voice soft “ I’ll skin them later “ that made Arthur smile, a chuckle escaping his lips. The first in 4 weeks.
“ darlin’ I’ve seen the way you skin game. I ain’t lettin’ you anywhere near ‘em you’ll butcher the damn things “ his voice was gentle with his teasing, but it was true. He’d once left you to it, letting you skin the game he’d brought you. Only to return to what looked like a massacre had taken place on your kitchen table “ I’ll do it “
You laughed a little yourself and nodded
“ yeah I… I ain’t the best huh “ he dropped the rabbits on the table and then turned back to you, he needed to be close to you again.
“ I really did miss ya “ he murmured, reaching out to tuck his fingers under your chin so you’d look up at him “ sorry I ain’t been around much “
He looked down at you, just looking. Admiring. You were so beautiful . So unbelievably gorgeous that it made his heart ache. So beautiful that even death would hesitate to pluck you up into his waiting arms. Because to remove you from the earth would be too vicious even for him, to devoid the planet of such beauty would be low even by his standards.
“ where y’been? “ you asked softly, leaning into his touch “ doin’ bad things again? “
“ real bad things sweetheart “ he murmured.
You never really asked him for more details. Never went delving into what dark and desperate things he found himself doing for Dutch. You'd push from time to time. But never asked anything too damning. You knew he was bad. Never asked him to confess his sins to you, you just let them lie. Let him forget them for a while whilst he was with you.
“ that mess in Valentine… was that you? “ she asked “ read about it in the papers. Claiming it was Van Der Linde boys. And I figured… that usually means you “ Arthur sighed, tucking some of your hair behind your ear as you looked up at him.
He didn’t deserve the way you gazed at him. The way you admired him. The way you peeled back each layer of terribleness to see the good hidden deep underneath.
“ yeah “ he didn’t attempt to lie. What was the need? You knew anyway “ Strauss took a bullet. Old bastards still breathin’ though unfortunately “ he murmured and stepped away from you. He felt tetchy. Needed to busy his hands.
You seemed to gather the point. That that was enough for now. That you didn’t need to know the who’s, the when’s, they why’s. He’d told you the vague outline. Skimmed the tale. And that was enough.
“ well… you gonna sort them rabbits f’me? I’ll cook you up somethin’ nice “ Arthur gave a small smile at your willingness to let his vague stories stay exactly that. To know he did bad things, but not wishing to know exactly what those things were.
And so you both fell into an almost domestic scene. The comfortable quiet that could settle around two people doing their own thing, two people just happy to be in each others company. Two people comfortable together.
He skinned the game as you pottered about doing something or other in the kitchen around him. It felt nice. A scene he could almost see himself having permanently.
Maybe somewhere back out west. Some little cabin or ranch, just you and him. And some sheep or chickens or… something. That damn rancher life Dutch had been harping on about for so long… but just you two.
A ring on your finger. A family. Domesticity that he never truly realised he’d craved.
But that was all some hopeless dream wasn’t it.
So he’d savour those moments for now. The quiet bliss. The escape from everything back at camp. His quiet comfortable time with you.
He finished the game, washing off his hands and placed himself behind you, arms around your waist and a gentle kiss to your cheek.
Those moments were his. His true escape and joy. When he could feel vulnerable. Affectionate.
You were the only true receiver of his affections. You brought it out of him. A constant deep desire within him to want to hold you. Kiss you. Love you. Something he usually tried to keep buried.
It was a tender scene. His chin propped on your shoulder, his arms around you. You often joked that it baffled you how this man that was so tender with you, so caring. So… soft. Was wanted dead or alive in multiple states.
His true moments of retribution came when he was with you like that. When he could hold you and be gentle. Pour out all his emotions and feelings via his actions.
Including the times when he was able to press you into your mattress. Your bed, his saving grace, his chance to truly worship every inch of you. And worship he did. Hands determined and insistent on your soft skin, mapping out your curves and edges to commit them to memory. Lips burning as they trailed your body to commit each inch to his brain.
The way your hands gripped at him, your fingernails piercing his skin and keeping him grounded. Reminding him it was all real he was sane. And the sounds you made more beautiful than any angel, whispering his name in his ear.
He always made sure to worship every part of you. Kissing in the most uncommon of places. His lips brushing your hip bone. The inside of your wrist. Each and every divet of your spine. Making sure you knew he cared. That he appreciated every second he had of you. That you weren’t some hurried little triste that he kept hidden away until he felt an itch needed to be scratched. That this side of things wasn’t a necessity. But simply just a way to prove his points.
He made sure you knew you were his everything. The one thing keeping him holding on to his morality, his one tether to the right side of things.
Afterwards he would lay there with you. Your body’s intwined and your fingers stroking through his hair. And he’d wonder when he’d get to see you again. When he’d be able to return to your arms. Missing you before he’d even left
And he desired it now.
It wasn’t even an inherently lust fuelled desire. But a desire to simply be close. To hold. To touch. To feel. To be touched in a way of care and to touch in a way that showed love not violence. To prove he could touch with love. That not everything he did needed to be violent.
So he turned you gently, cupping your face in his hands. And kissed you. Firm. But not rushed. Purposeful. His hands pulling gently at your hips to hold you flush against him. Some silent request for more.
But you held your hands firmly to his chest as he kissed you, like you could read his mind.
“ ain’t lettin’ you into my bed like this “ you said with a slight sternness to your tone that made him smile “ you look like you went swimmin’ in the swamps “ he chuckled at your words and nodded.
“ and I thought you enjoyed a rugged man “ he teased, his voice low and thick. He always spoke like he needed to be quiet with you. Like inside those four walls of your cabin if he spoke any louder he’d shatter the facade and you’d vanish.
“ rugged. Not filthy “ you teased with a smile and pressed a kiss to his cheek “ I’ll draw you a bath “
He watched you slip from his grasp, disappearing to arrange it. Simply because you wanted to. You didn’t have to. You weren’t the type to be some slave of a wife to a man that demanded everything of you. And he was not the type to be that kind of husband.
You simply just cared. Had too much care and kindness in your heart.
When it was ready you called him through. The whole thing still as quiet and calm as it had been since he’d stepped through your door.
The contrast always shocked him.
“ c’mon. Whilst it’s hot sugar “ you said softly, grabbing gently at his jacket from behind to help him shed it.
Being naked in front of you wasn’t always some lust filled moment. It was… natural. Intimate in ways different from those fuelled by sex. Vulnerable. Completely bare and unarmed. A way no one but you got to see him. A way he was certain he could never really trust anyone as much as you.
“need some time alone or ya want a hand? “ you asked softly, perching on the side of the tub. It was a little small. Or maybe he was a little big. Probably both.
He didn’t need your help not at all. But he’d take every single second he could have with you. Each tick of the clock was precious.
“ like my own personal bath girl ain’t ya darlin? “ he said with a smirk which made you smile, but roll your eyes.
“ I don’t think I’m as complimentary “ you said softly, dipping a cloth into the water to wash away the dirt and dust that came from sleeping outdoors and riding on horseback all day “ god the state of ya Arthur “ you sighed, gently washing over bruises and cuts.
You were used to that though. Arthur’s body had been littered in scars and bruises as long as he could remember.
“ ain’t nothin serious “ he said and it just made you sigh.
Your touch was so gentle against his battered skin. As if washing away all the bad he’d done in the 4 weeks between seeing you. As if he would step out of that tub and out of your door a new man, that he’d be restored to new from your gentleness alone. He could pretend at least.
“ need t’eat more “ you murmured softly, your fingers trailing down his side “ gettin’ skinny “ it felt nice to hear concern. For someone to worry about him. For someone to notice “ I do worry bout ya Arthur “ you said quietly as if reading his mind “ more so lately “
He sighed and nodded
“ I know my darlin’. I know “
“ ain’t never been this bad “
“ I know ” he glanced up at you as you ran soap suds through his hair, your fingers soft and gentle on the knots.
“ cant help feelin’ like… like one day you just ain’t gonna come back here “ he closed his eyes for a moment and nodded. He knew that this was how it was. That he worried you. That he caused you so much stress and anxiety “ I knew the deal when we first met but… Arthur what the hell happened back in Blackwater? “
His jaw involuntarily tensed at the mention of Blackwater. Because Arthur didn’t really know what had happened. He’d heard different accounts. Dutch said one thing. John another. The papers something else.
All he did know, was deep down even without the evidence to prove the fact, it had something to do with Micah. Micah and his impulsive tendencies
“ darlin’ “ he sighed again “ I ain’t even sure. I weren’t there you know I weren’t “ he hung his head a little and closed his eyes for a moment “ whatever it was it was bad. And Dutch… he’s got all these plans. Ranching or god damn mangoes in Tahiti I don’t know look- “ he reached out and grabbed your hand, squeezing it softly “ whatever that mess was, I gotta help them pick up the pieces. Y’know I do “
“ yeah. I know “ you said quietly
“ but once they got enough money, they can go off and have their South Pacific dreams… and I’ll be free to go where I like. Right back here. T’you “ he didn’t quite believe it himself. And it felt cruel to say it when he truly thought about it. But some part of him felt that if he spoke it out loud, maybe it could happen.
But then again. Maybe not.
You didn’t seem convinced. Not at all. That look in your eyes that seemed filled with sadness and longing. Longing for a life he couldn’t give you. Not yet.
“ sounds like a real nice dream “ you said quietly, standing up to grab him a towel to dry off
“ it is darlin. It is. And you keep dreamin’ it cause I will make it happen. I swear it to ya I will “ he wrapped the towel around him and stepped out of the tub, placing his hands on your shoulders “ I will darlin “
You gave him a gentle smile and reached up to brush the backs of your fingers across his cheek, nodding softly
“ I’ll keep dreamin “
As was the usual he ended up in your bed again, desperate to prove his point and show you his true devotion. Purging his sins with his head between your thighs.
His fingers softly traced along your folds, spreading them gently. He groaned as he felt you quiver and twitch under his touch, the feeling and sound making him more and more insatiable. More desperate to please. His thumb ran up and pressed against your clit, rubbing firmly, almost possessively like he was trying to mark the territory as his. Watching your reactions as you squirmed below him, heavenly sounds escaping your mouth.
“ so good Arthur “
Your mewling and whining was like music to his ears, he could listen to it all day. Hearing you moan out your praises only made his tongue move faster, his efforts to bring you to climax increasing. His hands gripping your thighs, using his free hand to push your hips down gently.
It was never about him in those moments. Didn’t care for getting any kind of release himself. He just cared about you. As if doing something so selfless would free him of his vengeful, selfish ways from the last few weeks.
He circled your clit, giving you the attention you needed and wanted from him, making up for his absence with every swipe of his tongue, listening to the pretty moans you made. His tongue swiped across you again and again, licking a strip over your sensitive skin just wanting to touch you everywhere.
Your soft moans and writhing movements were enough to drive him crazy, his hands gripping tightly at your thighs.
“ m’so… Arthur I- “ you spoke brokenly, your hand patting around softly before grabbing onto his “ Arthur “ your soft whimper of his name made him groan hungrily, his fingers instantly lacing with yours
“ right here darlin. Ain’t goin no where “
He hummed softly against you, feeling your muscles tighten under his tongue. He pressed his tongue flat against you, giving a long, slow lick. He was addicted to the taste, he just wanted more of you. Like he couldn’t get enough. Couldn’t get close enough. He groaned softly again, the vibrations of the sound clearly doing you wonders.
He could feel your walls beginning to clench around his tongue as he thrust it inside of you,your hand squeezing down on his and you softly mewled his name over and over . And a few more flicks of his tongue was enough, your back arching from your bed with a high pitched whine. Your thighs clamping around his head making him moan against you, not stopping in his ministrations. Fervently licking and lapping until you went slack, gently pushing at his head.
“ oh Jesus “ you whispered with a soft, breathy laugh “ I don’t know how you’re so good at that “ he smirked softly and crawled back over your body, pressing a kiss to your cheek.
“ you give me enough practice “ he murmured with a smile, tilting your head so that he could kiss you.
“ did you really mean what you said earlier?” You asked quietly as he pulled back, your fingers brushing his hair back from his forehead “ that dream. We’ll really have that some day? “
He looked down at you. So hopeful. So desperate to love and to be loved. By him. He wanted to give you the world. To hand you anything and everything you wanted and needed on a silver platter before you could even ask for it.
Deep down he wished he could. A small, tiny part of him hoping that one day he really could fulfil that desire. Be… normal. A rancher or a farm hand. You, his wife. A kid.
But a louder, stronger part of him told him he couldn’t. That he’d never really escape. That something would always be in the way. Something would always stop him.
But looking down at you, that loving hopeful look. He couldn’t tell you that.
“ yeah. Yeah darlin’ we will “
#reupload cause tumblr did that thing where it chops a whole chunk off the end ffs#arthur morgan x reader#Arthur Morgan#red dead redemption 2#rdr2#rdr2 community#rdr#rdr2 arthur#rdr2 fandom#rdr2 fanfic#Arthur Morgan smut#Arthur Morgan fluff#angst#x you
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