#Arthur I can move the toes...

[arthur-lesters-right-arm]

John will really seize control over Arthur's body parts with no notion of how to return or unbind them, freaking Arthur out to the brink of insanity and then be like "oopsies!"

#John heard ''got your nose!'' and went for the other body parts as well #malevolent podcast #Arthur I can move the toes... #malevolent #arthur lester #arthur malevolent #john malevolent #malevolent arthur #john doe malevolent #malevolent john

[charlessainzz]

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

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

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

Take One: 

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

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

“Hi,” you squeak, anticipating a kiss. 

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

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

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

Take Two:

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

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

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

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

Take Three:

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

This episode will definitely be talked about! 

Take Four:

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[dilemmaontwolegs]

Licence to Thrill || CL16

Pairing: Charles Leclerc x fem!reader Summary: You give Charles the ride of his life when he’s running late to an important event. Warnings: 18+ only, illegal driving, sexual innuendos, fluff WC: 2.7k

F1 Masterlist || Based on this request

“No, no, no, shit.” Charles’ curses woke you up and you rubbed your bleary eyes as he tossed the blankets back, cold air rushing over your skin. You immediately missed the warmth of his body where he had been spooning you all night and grabbed your phone to see the time.

“Fuck!” Charles growled as his little toe caught the corner of the bedpost, again, and you leapt up to get dressed too. “We are so late, mon amour.”

He had been looking forward to the charity football game all week and the prospect of missing the kick off made him clumsy in his rush. While you pulled on a pair of jeans and a shirt he struggled to get one leg into his team’s black football shorts, falling twice as he lost his balance. 

“I’m sorry,” you murmured as you curled an arm around his waist to steady him. “I shouldn’t have kept you up so late.”

He grabbed a shirt before sparing a moment to press his lips to your forehead. “Don’t be, I enjoyed myself very much.”

“Oh, I know, and I’m pretty sure my neighbours know it too,” you teased as you took your shirt from his hands and tossed him the correct shirt with his name and driver number on the back. “Come on, get that sexy ass moving.”

He laughed as you squeezed his butt when he bent down to tie his shoes. “Hands off the goods, honey, I’m not a piece of meat.”

“Keep telling yourself that, handsome,” you shot back as he made for the stairs and you locked the house behind you.

“Shit,” Charles groaned as he hit his head on the steering wheel. “I am stupid.”

“What’s wrong?” you asked, leaning over to see the dashboard. “You forgot to put petrol in again, didn’t you?”

“I was in a rush to get here last night,” he admitted sheepishly. “I’ll call Arthur to come get us.”

“I can take us.” You opened your handbag and found your keys as well as the remote for the garage door.

“Wait, you drive?”

“Of course I do,” you laughed as you climbed out of the Pista.

He quickly hopped out his side to follow. “I didn’t even know you had a licence. Why am I only just learning this now?”

“You never asked,” you said with a shrug, “and you always offer to pick me up.”

“Because I thought you didn’t drive.”

You giggled as you hit the remote and the door lifted up. “What did you think was in the garage?”

“Storage? Chérie,” he sighed as he followed you down the driveway that passed by the front door that he had a key for and he pointed to it. “I’ve never come in your backdoor, how should I know?” You cocked an eyebrow up with a smirk and he rolled his eyes. “You know what I mean.”

“Well, just so you know, the garage is where I park my car.” You waved a hand to the opened door and Charles whistled as he saw the gleaming black hood catch the morning sun. He automatically started walking to the drivers side and you tutted at him. “Don’t even think about it, love. That’s my baby.”

“But-“

“No buts, if you want to make it to the match on time you ride shotgun.” You grabbed his shoulders and turned him in the direction of the other door and he grumbled as he started to walk around. “If it’s any consolation, you can pick the music.”

The door creaked open and slammed shut behind him before he groaned and you laughed as you climbed in to see him holding his phone, the Spotify app useless with the old radio. “Forgot to mention, she only takes cassette tapes.”

“You know you can update the stereo,” he pointed out as he opened the glove compartment and rifled through the stacks of old cassettes. “Fleetwood Mac. Michael Jackson. There’s nothing from this century.”

“Hey, don’t hate on them. They are classics and this is a classic car.” You turned the key and grinned as he dropped the tape at the sudden roar that was deafening in the small garage. “You might want to buckle up, baby.”

“Why are there racing harnesses in here?” he asked as he pulled the five point harness over his shoulders and bucked it in.

“You probably shouldn’t ask questions you don’t want the answers to,” you admitted as you shoved a random mixtape into the radio and turned the volume dial up.

The kick drum intro to Ram Jam’s  Black Betty thumped from the speakers as you pushed down the clutch and put the ‘70 Dodge Charger into gear. The full force of the V8 engine drove your body back into the seat as the car hurtled forward and burst into the sunlight. Charles latched onto the handle above his door and while the other hand pressed against the dash and his knees tucked up like he was preparing for impact.

“I’m trying not to be insulted here,” you huffed as you pushed his knee down between shifting gears. “I may not have a super licence like some people, but I have never crashed.”

A terrified scream erupted as you burst out of the driveway and pulled the handbrake, kicking the back wheels out as you drifted into the quiet suburban street and took off with a trail of burnt rubber. Your neighbours wouldn’t be too happy but you didn’t care as long as you got Charles to where he needed to be on time.

You spared a glance over to your boyfriend and saw the whites of his eyes as they stared at the road ahead and his knuckles turned white from the tight gripe he held. “Chérie, road, road, cars, look, traffic, look at the road. The road!”

He turned to you wide eyed as you approached the busy intersection at full speed before hitting the brake. You held his eye contact as you shifted down the gears before coming to a gentle stop at the lines in front of the traffic light and he exhaled in relief.

“You’re fucking crazy,” he said but the words were warm and his smile was one amazement as the adrenaline hit him. His hands tugged the harness until it was snug and he settled into the seat as you waited for the light to turn green. “I’m ready this time.”

“Good, because we won’t make it if I stop for every red light.”

“Wait, what?” The light changed and you put your foot to the floor as Charles chuckled nervously. “You’re joking right?”

“If it helps, sure,” you shrugged, weaving in and out of the cars and ignoring the angry honks of their horns. “Do you think I could take your car for a spin?”

“Absolutely…not.” 

You narrowed your eyes as he got your hopes up and almost missed the turn that would shave a few seconds off the travel time. Any normal person would have struggled to stay upright in their seat but Charles’ line of work made it easy for him to tense his abdominals and neck so he barely moved as the mass shifted and the back wheels drifted behind the turn.

“What if I let you drive this?” you bartered as the road straightened out and you reached speeds high enough to instantly lose your licence and the car. 

“Oh, mon amour,” he murmured as he chewed his bottom lip and he debated the offer before looking at his watch. “If you get me there before kick off you have a deal.”

He should have known you wouldn’t miss out on the opportunity very few people got and the smile you gave him gave him pause as he wondered what he had just got himself into.

“It’s going to be tight,” you muttered as you saw the time, just catching the hint of a smile on his face. “But doable.”

Charles watched with fascination. He saw your eyes scanning the road far ahead, making plans and contingency plans for the hazards that you might face. All the while you blindly shifted up the gears with your feet working in tandem, releasing the accelerator as you double clutched for a smoother transition. 

“I can’t believe this is really happening,” he chuckled in disbelief as you took a corner with enough speed that he knew there had to be some g-force working against you, but you didn’t even notice as you gripped the wheel tight and exited the apex without slowing down.

“I’m pretty sure if you were dreaming we would be doing something else, not driving.”

“I’m not sure now, I’m finding this extremely hot. You could pull over and make that dream come true?”

“And miss out on driving your baby? No way.” You shook your head with a laugh before biting your lip. “It is tempting, but I have to think of the children. They would be very disappointed if you didn’t show up for the match.”

“And Pierre, I don’t think he would forgive me.”

“I said children didn’t I. Oh, shit.” You ripped the handbrake and did a 180 as you missed the street you needed. “Stop distracting me.”

The stadium was just up ahead and you could see the parking lot on the other side of the overpass but there was only one road to get there. Unless you wanted to drive the long way around but then you would be late.

“Amour, that’s a one way street,” Charles pointed out as you headed to the underground pass. “You’re going the wrong way. There’s traffic cameras here too.”

“You’re right,” you huffed before twisting the wheel a little to the left then all the way to the right. The suspension would not like the pressure you were putting it under but she spun around and you shoved the car in reverse and draped your arm across Charles’ chair as you looked over your shoulder. “Wouldn’t want to get a fine.”

The engine roared inside the tunnel as you pushed the limits of the gear and you swerved through the lanes. You were grateful that it wasn’t rush hour traffic so there were only a few drivers angry with your recklessness before you burst out of the tunnel, through the intersection and into the parking lot. 

The stadium was quiet since the event was only televised but there were still lots of media crews at the entrance and they all turned your way as the back of your car careened towards them. You reached the last row of empty parking spaces and pulled the handbrake, whipping the front around and coming to a stop beside the gate entrance.

“Twelve seconds to spare,” you laughed as you drummed your fingers on the steering wheel. “That will be twenty euros and a five star rating, s’il vous plaît.”

“Just enough time to change my shorts,” he joked as he pushed his door open.

“Good thing they are black this year,” you retorted with a laugh as you tossed him his boots he would have forgotten. “Go, I’ll meet you inside.”

He blew a kiss as he took off at a jog and waved to the stunned reporters who were still recording.

“Is that Y/N?” A female presenter asked her male colleague.

“Leclerc’s girlfriend?” He laughed and shook his head. “No way. This has to be some stunt.”

You drove more sedately to a spot a few spaces away where you spotted Pierre’s car and parked beside it before killing the engine and letting the silence settle. Adjusting your mirror, you saw everyone still watching, waiting to see who it was being the wheel.

“I told you,” the woman gasped as she elbowed the man. “It was her! Do you have a moment?”

“Sorry, games about to kick off,” you apologised as you rushed past and into the stadium just in time to see Charles faceplant. “Ohh,” you gasped along with the others watching before cupping your hands around your mouth. “Yellow card ref!”

“He tripped over himself,” Kika whispered as she joined you.

“Oh I know, I just thought he could use a little 15 minute rest.” You grinned as you gave her a kiss on the cheek. “He’s had a rough morning.”

“What happened?”

“He stubbed his toe.” Your phone started vibrating and you pulled it out of your pocket to see your twitter notifications blowing up. “Huh, that was quick. The devil works hard but F1 fans work harder.”

You showed her the thread which started with a short clip of your car thrashing it down the street, Charles holding on for dear life. You chuckled as you saved it to show him later, knowing he would get a kick out of it too.

“Yeah, I don’t think that was the stubbed toe, hun…” she hummed.

“Meh,” you shrugged, pocketing the device so you could concentrate on the game.

Charles and Pierre’s team won the match and you climbed over the baluster to jump down to the grass as the pair jogged over. Charles swept you up with a proud grin as he spun around.

“Well played, handsome,” you praised as you brushed his sweaty hair back into place before helping yourself to a quick kiss.

“Wouldn’t have made it without you, chérie.”

Pierre clapped him on the shoulder and nodded his head to the reporters waiting for a post match interview and he reluctantly placed your feet back on the ground.

“Well, this should be interesting,” you muttered to Kika as you waved to the camera that remained pointed at you until Charles said something.

“Just how bad was your driving?” she asked curiously.

“Bad? Oh it wasn’t bad,” you chuckled. “My driving is actually very good, if I do say so myself. It was just a little faster than he was expecting.”

She curled an eyebrow up. “He goes 200 mph for a living.”

“Yeah, funny right.”

Charles was still catching his breath when the microphone was held in front of him and could see videos of his entrance playing on the big screens around the stadium. Pierre’s eyebrows disappeared under his hair in surprise as he saw the black Charger spinning to a stop and his friend climbing out.

“No fucking way,” Pierre laughed as he looked back at you laughing with his girlfriend. “That’s awesome.”

“I know right,” Charles said with a proud smile. “You should have seen it, she was going full on sideways through these corners, it was insane.”

“So, Charles, I'm sure this comes as no surprise,” the reported began, “but we have some questions about your girlfriend, after the entrance she made.”

“You have some questions?” He threw his head back and laughed. “I have some questions! I had no idea she could drive like that.”

“Her father is a rally driver. Did you really never suspect anything?”

“My mother is a hairdresser, doesn’t mean I am good at cutting hair. Why do you think I wore a bandana during lockdown? I butchered it that’s why.” He brushed his hair back that had thankfully grown back after his terrible attempt and laughed to himself. “So no, I didn’t assume she could drive because her father can.”

The interview finally turned to the football match and then a little bit about the upcoming race before Charles was able to escape. He held up a finger and mouthed one minute as he made a detour to the few fans that had been invited. He talked with some of them, shaking hands and signing autographs.

You wolf whistled loudly as Charles took his shirt off and he grinned without even having to check who it came from before he gave it to a fan and waved goodbye. You knew you were staring as he jogged back and you knew you weren’t the only one, but he only had eyes for you as he gave you a wink and draped his arm over your shoulder.

“How cool is that shot,” he said as he looked up at the screens still playing a rotation of highlights from the game and your arrival. “There’s just one way to make it better.”

“Excuse me?” you dared him to criticise your driving but his charming smile only grew wider.

“Do it in a Ferrari.”

#charles leclerc x you #charles leclerc fanfic #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc imagine #charles leclerc x y/n #formula one imagine #formula 1 fanfic #f1 rpf #f1 imagine #f1 fanfic

[thatsdemko]

love affair- a.leclerc & c.leclerc

masterlist

requested: n

pairings: Arthur leclerc x gasly!fem!reader & Charles leclerc x gasly!fem!reader

warnings: nsfw + not intended for minors + mentions of nudity + mentions of oral (f receiving)

a/n: mwahahaha I love creating chaos 😌 also the lyrics are from 5sos! I am well aware none of these men(and the beautiful y/n) are not English! it’s just part of the lyrics! this has zero to do with my previous Arthur x gasly!reader fic! feedback is always appreciated xx

《 the following content is not intended for minors. 》

It started on a weekend in May

I was looking for attention, needed intervention

his beautiful green eyes are glued to your body as you move across the hot sand of the beach. you begged your brother to pull over so you could take a dip, cool off, you said.

maybe it was your plan to get him to look, you were never going to say. but you felt those eyes in the passenger seat, he watched your breasts bounce up and down as you jog up to the car, the water that’s left on your tan legs glisten in the sun.

“don’t get your wet bottoms on my seats!” Pierre calls out as you dance around the hot pavement, Charles throws his jacket over the leather before you slip in.

“thank you, Charles.” you reach behind the seats pressing a friendly kiss to your brothers best friends cheek, Pierre groans trying to wipe the ends of your wet hair off the leather.

he watches you collapse against the burning black leather seats. little does he know that in exactly six hours he’d be crammed up in the back eating you out. he’d be shoving his hard cock into your swollen pussy, his hand gripping your throat while you choke his name.

Before I knew it, it was serious

Dragged me out the bar to the back seat of her car

TWELVE HOURS EARLIER

you think you’re the only one awake. you still tip toe around the creaking old floors, you’re in nothing but your brothers old alpha tauri shirt and a pair of an ex boyfriends boxers. when you make your way into the living room you half expect to see someone else awake.

“my my, is this a sight to see.” Charles smirks, chuckle escaping his lips. he’s never seen in anything other than a tight shirt and a pair of bottoms that are way too short. even when you were kids your style was far similar to what it is now.

“oh fuck off,” you mumble slipping next to him on the love seat, and he extends the blanket over into your lap. two of you now watching whatever old black and white movie was on.

“can’t sleep?” he asks, voice in a hushed tone watching your body settle into the seats, thigh quickly brushing his before you pulled away. he can’t help but feel the nervousness scatter his stomach.

“not with my brother snoring in the other room.” you roll your eyes, as much as you love Pierre, his nostrils were the death of you every time you take this summer trip.

“why don’t you sleep in my room? Arthur doesn’t snore. we can swap beds.” he suggests, and you almost laugh knowing he doesn’t want to spend his nights in your pink and white wallpapered bedroom. as much as you know he’s in touch with his feminine side, you’re sure he won’t last the night with the pink colors mocking him.

“that or we could just piss Arthur off, have Pierre sleep in your room.” you suggest and he nods. the silence and crackling of the old film are what occupies the air, it’s almost unfamiliar to you both. this room was always full of laughter and joy, you hate hearing it so dead.

“why don’t you just sleep in my bed with me?” he’s half serious, the sleep deprivation was doing most of his talking right now. when he looks you in the eyes he doesn’t expect you to say yes, but you do. now you’re wrapped in his white linen sheets and the cool breeze from his window blows into your face.

you’d be lying to yourself if you didn’t wish this was something more. part of you woke up because you knew he was down there shirtless lounging around in nothing but his tiny shorts. you’re not sure if it’s your own sleep deprivation convincing you that you needed him, but will you be thankful in twenty four hours for what god brings you.

NOW

“sleep well?” Arthur watches you nearly stumble down the stairs into the living room. you’re practically limping, it’s obvious you either hurt yourself at the club or whoever left all those hickeys on your neck left you disoriented.

“something like that.” you wave him off heading into the kitchen where the smell of bacon, eggs, and toast are coming from. your mouth is watering you’re so hungry, you almost don’t even catch your brothers glare while you scarf down two plates of food.

“do I even want to know?” he asks, fork gesturing to the purple and yellow bruises that scatter your neck. he can’t even look at you, he’s disgusted by whoever the man was that left his marking. little does he know the man is his best friend who just entered the kitchen mumbling his late good mornings.

“where were you for our run? I knocked on your door five times.” Lorenzo shoves a plate of food into his brothers chest half caring that some of the egg fell on to the floor. he’s disappointed in his younger brothers lack of motivation and discipline.

“I overslept.” Charles lies. that’s partially true, but while Lorenzo was knocking on his door at five in the morning, you were giving him a good morning treat before his run. he claims it to have been the best way to wake up, it’s why he skipped the run.

Pierre nearly chokes on his dry toast when he sees the nail marks against his friends back. they are still fresh and bright red, he’s surprised Arthur didn’t say a single thing when he walked by.

“and somebody was worried about not getting something this trip.”

“oh wow,” Arthur barely touches one of the marks on his back, it earns a hiss from Charles as he tries to swat the younger man to move along, “these are going to leave quite the mark for awhile.”

you try to hide the red hue that’s floating across your face. you’re lucky all of them are too focused on the nail marks and the details of his wild night. you didn’t expect them to be so obvious, but the acrylics were still fresh from the other day and sharper than you expected them to be.

“would you see her again?” Lorenzo asks sliding into the chair next to Pierre. the question brought you a wave of nausea, you get up instantly once he sits down. there’s no way you’ll be able to hear the truth or the lie. either way you know you crossed a line, and seeing Charles in that setting once more wasn’t an option for you.

“yeah, I would.”

—

“you don’t own a single thing that doesn’t compliment you, huh?” he takes your hand in his allowing you to twirl and show off the tight body con dress.

you shrug, sheepish smile spreading across your lips, “you like it?” you’re not sure what’s provoked you to ask, but he just nods tongue licking his bottom lip watching you saunter on over to find a pair of high heels to match.

his eyes trail after your body, it’s like he’s never seen an ass and a pair of tits as good as yours. everything about you demanded his, hell anybody’s, attention. every inch of you screamed perfection, it’s impossible for a man to look away, and right now it’s impossible for him.

“what’s on your mind, leclerc?” you bend down to pick up your black high heels and move to a chair to slide them on. he’s right at the edge of the coffee table doing it for you instead. his fingers pull the little string through the hoops, finger tips grazing your legs.

“you.” he says, watching you slide your leg off his thigh and stand up adjusting the dress down your thighs. his eyes follow your body with lust, you swear you’ve never seen a man wrapped around your finger so quickly.

you’re smiling, he’s so pure, you think to yourself, as you use your index finger to tilt his chin upwards, “I’m thinking of you too, Arthur.” you bend down, head dipping to press your lips against his. they’re sweet and soft just like he imagined them to be, he practically moans at the delicacy.

he runs his hands up and down your body, you don’t mind that they linger a little too long on your ass, you think it’s adorable how excited he is. little does he know he’d have you sucking on his swollen cock in the public restroom of the bar. you’d be on your knees listening to him moan your name and later that evening he’d be asking if he was just as good as the guy from last night.

he’d then take you to that same car, and just like his brother, his hard cock would be entering your throbbing pussy each stroke full of passion and intimacy. you could melt at how careful the leclerc’s take their sexual activities.

you can’t tell him who’s better, there’s no clear winner. but god forbid you would never tell him the man before him was his own brother.

When the lights go out, she's all I ever think about

The picture burning in my brain, kissing in the rain

I can't forget, my English love affair

#charles leclerc #pierre gasly #charles leclerc fic #charles leclerc fluff #charles leclerc imagine #charles leclerc x you #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc drabble #charles leclerc fanfic #charles leclerc smut #arthur leclerc x reader #arthur leclerc smut #arthur leclerc fluff #arthur leclerc imagine #arthur leclerc drabble #arthur leclerc x y/n #arthur leclerc #arthur leclerc fic #f1 x reader #f1 fanfic #f1 driver x you #f1 imagine #f1 driver x reader #f1 imagines #f1 #formula 1 imagine #formula 1 x you #formula 1 x reader #formula 1 fanfic #formula 1

[queers-gambit]

Aces

prompt: ( requested ) during a terrible storm, you're invited to stay at your boss' house. years of tip-toeing around one another comes to an end when emotions are finally laid on the table.

pairing: Tommy Shelby x female!reader

fandom masterlist: Peaky Blinders

word count: 3.5k+

warning: honestly, it's pretty tame. some cursing, kinda-sorta one bed, most def OC Tommy, fluff, author is def on the Grace Hating Train but it's mild.

With a grunt, you threw the file of paperwork from your hands across the empty room; scattering across the floor. You were agitated, grouchy, beyond exhausted, and yet, there was no use in trying to leave when the worst storm to ransack England was being unleashed from the seediest parts of hell.

All you wanted was to go to bed for about 16 hours, but as midnight ticked closer and closer, that dream was dwindling. You'd be lucky to get a few hours at this point since your job was demanding enough to warrant early mornings and late nights. But this night was later than ever before.

You often wondered if your employer's antics brought this hell-storm upon you all, but figured, God didn't care that much about Small Heath. He most certainly didn't care for the Devil running it.

"Woah!" A voice laughed when the file went flying. "Gott'an arm on yah, love! Nearly took me fuckin' eye out!"

"Ha-ha," you mocked John Shelby, your employer's younger brother. "What're you still doing here?"

"I was about to ask you the same," he smirked, squatting so he was in front of you with an exaggerated pout. "Why're you still here, love? Tommy's still gotcha workin'?"

"No, it's my own vocation."

"Tommy don't pay overtime, sweetheart."

"No shit," your eyes rolled. "In case I'm the only one capable of seeing it, there's an outlandish storm outside that prevents me from getting home." You gestured around where you sat on the floor, surrounded by files and other paperwork, "So, what else was I gonna do to pass the time?"

"It's not that bad," he waved you off. "C'mon, I'm off t'the Garrison, come with me, love. We can drink 'til the storm passes, huh?"

"John, seriously, I'm warning you," you deadpanned, watching him adjust his flatcap.

"C'mon, sweet cheeks, we can endure it," he laughed, opening the door and literally being shoved back by the force of the wind. You didn't make a sound, just reaching to hold down the papers around you as he grunted and groaned, trying to shut the flailing door; only able to once he threw his entire weight into it.

"Told you," you mused, his face and coat dripping wet from the short time the door was open.

"So, you're staying here, then?" He asked, panting, trying to play off the entire ordeal.

"I figured I'd get some more work done, it's not like Tommy gives any days off," you shrugged.

"He'd give you whatever you asked for," John smirked, taking his coat off.

"No, he needs me to do shit on the daily, there aren't days off, John Boy," you rolled your eyes playfully. "But I knew what I was signing up for when I agreed to work for you idiots."

"Hey," he pouted.

"Oh, honey, if it helps any, you're my favorite idiot!"

"Good," he pointed at you with a small laugh. "But seriously, love, if you need the day off, Tommy would do it."

"No, there's so much to do here," you frowned. "We're on track to reopen in a few weeks, and if I take a day off, we'll fall behind, and you know Tommy doesn't do delays."

The gambling den the Shelby's operated was getting a make over now that The Shelby Company Limited was soon to be up and running. Hence why you were there in an empty room with only files around you and a dimly lit lap, you were trying to get shit organized before furniture could be moved back in.

You would have to restock Polly's office, Tommy's, Arthur's, and John's - all of who were Company members and would need their space to work. Not to mention the completely different office Tommy was currently eyeing to use as his base of operation, something you, as his personal assistant, was expected to help with every step of the way. Honestly, it was a miracle Tommy was ever able to get shit done before you - an organizational Goddess.

"Well," John sighed, looking around for a moment before shrugging and placing his hands on his hips, "want some help?"

You chuckled, "No, it's all right, John, you go on. Surely the lads will be home soon - "

Speak of the Devil! And He will appear!

The door burst open, sending your files every which way from the gust of wind; several bodies shoving their way inside before the lone, single body of Tommy Shelby stalked in last. He shut the door without issue, being a force of nature himself; a professionally observant, silent, lone menace that commanded the attention of any room he walked into. People on the street parted for him like the Red Sea, flocked to the darkened parts of the streets just to get a glimpse of the gangster in motion.

For as long as you can remember, you've harbored overwhelming affection for your boss, but never once vocalized it out of sheer fear of rejection.

He was Thomas Shelby. He was an enigma; a mysterious, stoic man that instilled a sense of fear and respect from those around him. You included, but yet never dare let your admiration for your employer be known in public. You loved him from a distance; admiring him and feeling yourself fall further into your unrequited love due to the intimate proximity you shared. He's always treated you as exactly what you were - a valuable member of the Company and his personal assistant. You worked intimately together on a daily basis, and each night you went home, you would scream into a pillow out of sheer frustration.

Being his personal assistant meant you were constantly in close proximity, and no matter how hard you tried to fight your feelings, it was impossible. He was Thomas bloody Shelby - insanely suave, charismatic, a deep nut to crack, but once he opened up, he was insanely loyal, caring, even decently amusing. He was all you wanted, but never felt secure enough to admit your feelings for him.

You were greeted happily by the men, all piling into the Shelby home to take refuge from the storm. You were left to silently rock to your feet and start gathering the papers that had gone flying in their entrance, glancing up when a hand offered help in rounding up your supplies. "Thank you, Mr. Shelby, but I got it," you insisted quietly, accepting the pages he handed you.

Tommy always had a soft spot for you.

He was silent for a moment, then asked, "What're you still doin' here?"

"Storm makes it impossible to get home," you shrugged. "I was waiting until it lessened, but it doesn't seem to," you glanced out the window, still shuffling files and papers together.

"You've worked all day," he sighed, "c'mon."

"Uh... Where?"

"Think you've earned a drink," he eased, already striding out of the room. You quickly finished gathering your papers, stacking them all together, but was pleasantly shocked when Tommy returned to the empty room with two glasses and a bottle of whiskey.

"Mr. Shelby, don't - "

But he was already sat on the ground, back against a wall, watching you with amusement. "Think a man's too good to sit on the floor?" He asked, uncorking the bottle.

"When their suit is so expensive that I have to take it to a specific cleaners, perhaps, then yes," you answered truthfully.

"I've money to spare, I can send this suit to be cleaned by another errand boy, you won't have to any longer," he poured two glasses of whiskey, "but tonight's company is too good to pass up."

You laughed, "Oh, no, what did you do?"

"Hmm?"

"You're kissing my arse a little, what've you done? What mess do I have to clean tomorrow?"

He smirked as you finally sat beside him, a bit stiffly, but accepted the drink he served. "Nothing, love, this storm's put a halt on everything," he gestured to the window, unaware that your heart stalled in your chest when you heard him call you 'love'. "What is it you were working on?" He asked, fingering the few files stacked between you. "Ah," he mused, reading the titles of the packets, "trying to get a jump on tomorrow, huh?"

"Not very much else to do," you shrugged. "I... I got a little frustrated. I think I'll need Polly to go over a few things with me."

"I'm sure you've got it," he spoke quietly. "I wouldn't have hired you if incapable."

You nodded, "Right, of course, sir."

Mr. Shelby offered you a look, taking a swig of whiskey. "You know, after hours, you don't have to be so professional."

"You didn't hire me to be unprofessional, though."

"No, I didn't, but this isn't a work meeting," he offered his glass. "We can still be friendly, can we not?"

You clinked his glass with yours, "Sure, of course we can..." How the hell could you be 'friendly' to the man you've pined after for the past two years? "So, I heard Grace skipped town," you started, instantly wincing when you realized what you said. "I-I'm so sorry, Mr. Shelby, I didn't mean to - "

But he chuckled, "You heard correct." He waited a long moment, then offered, "She's gone - for good."

You tested the waters, "Is... That a good thing?"

"It is."

"I thought you liked the barmaid?"

"I thought I did, too, but I've been wrong before."

"I doubt that."

"No, truly," he smirked, "I've made my fair share of mistakes."

"That you'd be willing to admit to?"

"Well, that's a different story," he mused, downing the last of his glass. "C'mon," he decided, sitting up, "the others are in the den, if you'd like to join?"

"Oh, no, I don't wish to intrude."

"Where were you going to sleep, then? If this storm doesn't die off in the next hour?" You gestured to where your coat and belongings were bunched up beside you, shrugging lightly. "No, absolutely not," he glared when he took in your makeshift bed, "you're coming in, you'll stay the night here."

"No, you lot are having family time - "

"And why do you assume you aren't family yet?" He asked sharply, making you reel back a little. "Three years, you've worked with my family, a portion of that before any of us came home. C'mon, love, you're more family than others wish to pretend to be."

"You mean that?" You worried softly.

He offered a look of mild offense, "I don't speak to hear the sound of my own voice. I would not say it if I did not mean it."

The whiskey in your system encouraged you to offer a sharp look, snipping, "It would not kill you to just say, 'Yes, I mean it.'"

Tommy smirked lightly, nodding, "Yes, I mean it. Come, you'll stay here tonight."

You couldn't fight off the smile even if you tried. With your coat and purse in one hand, Tommy took the other to help you off the floor. Like a gentleman, he took your belongings before leading you further into the Shelby home; leaving the empty gambling den to find the others all stuffed around a table with a card game loudly being played; fireplace stoked to life.

Polly greeted you happily, not knowing you were still here. Tommy set your things to the side as Arthur wrangled you into the seat beside him - insisting you had to be on his team! A quick sniff of his tea mug assured he was waist deep in the whiskey.

"Okay! New player at the table!" John announced, yanking all the cards back to hand over to Polly. They were all smoking, minus you and Finn. "You all know the rules - hey, hey, hey, no! Tommy's not on her team!" He pointed at you and his brother, who had sat beside you to sandwich you between Shelby's.

"Why not?" Tom asked, accepting the tea from Polly as Finn handed you your own.

"Thank you, little love," you whispered, pecking his cheek as he giggled.

"Becuase you two can communicate without words - it's fucking weird!" John insisted. "All right! Polly, you're with Tommy - the fucker likes to cheat."

"Being better than you isn't cheating, John Boy."

"Is when there's money on the line!" John laughed, Arthur leaning over to explain to you the game. He was actually a very good teacher, and even for a few rounds, you weren't a "viable player" just to let you watch and get the gist of things.

However, when you joined the game, it was far more intense than you had given credit for. But the Shelby's were competitive lads, Polly just happy to laugh and remind the boys of the rules; letting them dominate the table as you were content to just watch, laugh, and sip your tea. After a few rounds, Finn came over and hopped up on your lap, declaring you two a team now, and believe it or not, you won the next three hands!

"CHEATERS! AYE!?" John yelled, laughing right after as a boom of thunder rattled the home.

"No, call that beginners luck!" Arthur tried to defend, Tommy lighting a new cigarette.

"Or maybe John's just not accustomed to losing?" You grinned. "Especially from a lady?"

"I lost to a lady? Where? Where is she?" John looked around comically, earning a swift kick under the table that rattled the tea cups.

"All right, all right, next hand, we play for money, come on, come on, bets in the center," Polly instructed. "Finn, don't," she warned and you reached up to push the lad's hand down as he was ready to toss in a few pounds.

"Here, I'll cover us," you told the little lad, both grinning when you offered money to the center. Unknown to you, Tommy was keeping mental track of however much you were betting - intent to pay you back. Yet he didn't say anything, content to watch you and Finn have fun together.

Arthur and John were the most vocal of the group, arguing about scores and tallies and who won which round. You chuckled as Finn leaned into your chest, everyone waiting for the two to finish arguing; Polly looking over with a broad smirk before dropping her gaze. Tommy had seemingly naturally moved closer to you, one arm extended behind your chair to keep you close to his warmth.

Neither seemed to notice.

Not even when you would turn to crack a joke directly in Tommy's ear, his lips spreading in an easy smile that made Polly fight off her own grin. Grace was something special to Tommy, sure, this was true, but after the time together, she could tell that the two of you had become something more - without even verbalizing it.

Never realizing.

Hours passed, the storm still raged, two cartons of cigarettes was smoked between the lot of them, and there was no clear winner in sight. Finn had fully deflated into your embrace, asleep despite the loud thunder and blinding flashes of lightning. Your head had lulled onto Tommy's shoulder, sleep clawing at your eyelids as you listened to a drunken John and Arthur still argue about the card game. Polly eventually called it quits and bid everyone a goodnight, smiling softly when she noted the cozy seating between you and Tommy.

The longer you sat there, you more exhausted you became.

"C'mon, love," Tommy whispered softly, rousing you from your half-sleep, "let's get you to bed. C'mon, up you get," he smirked, aiding you from your chair as you kept a firm hold on his little brother. "We'll see you lot in the morning," he told his brothers.

"Night," John and Arthur waved, still deep into their argument, but smirking to one another when Tommy lead you up the stairs. When you were gone from sight, John leaned in and asked his eldest brother, "Think Tommy'll make a move tonight?"

Arthur glanced up the stairs, musing, "If he doesn't, he might be stupider then we thought."

John agreed.

Upstairs, Tommy opened the bedroom door and let you lay Finn softly on his bed, pausing to tug his shoes off and cover him with his blanket; moving his stuffed teddy bear closer and watching his sleeping hand naturally curl around it. You snuck out of the door, Tommy shutting the door, and tangled your hand with his.

Silently, he lead you to his bedroom.

It was small, ridiculously small, but it was enough for his single person. Tommy shut the door after you, moving around, muttering, "You can sleep in this," as he handed you one of his shirts, "and I'll be in the drawing room if you need me - "

"Tommy, I'm not kicking you out of your room," you sighed. "I can sleep on the sofa for the night, it's not - "

"I'm not letting you do that," he refused sharply.

"Then we seem to be at an impasse," you decided with perked brows. "Either we're both sleeping on the sofa or we both crash your bed. You choose."

He chuckled dryly, "And here I thought the whiskey would make you less stubborn."

"Wishful thinking."

He nodded, letting you have the room to change and get under the covers. It was decently cold in his room, more so without pants; the storm doing nothing to remedy that, and when Tommy returned, everything felt different.

A good different, but still different.

Neither of you made eye contact, him joining you in the absurdly small bed after blowing the candles out. You settled on your side, facing the wall, and after a few moments of adjusting, Tommy was settling down - but hesitating to deflate in comfort.

"Is it all right if I, uh... If I...?"

"Yeah, 's all right, Tommy," you whispered, reaching for the hand that hovered over your waist and pulling it so he was curled around you. It was all he needed to readjust, sigh to himself, and deflate against your back. You shivered slightly when his warm breath fanned over your neck and shoulder; his hand splaying over your belly and rubbing his thumb mindlessly. "Thank you for letting me stay the night," you whispered.

"Wasn't gonna send you home in this weather," he answered, voice vibrating the shell of your ear. "Besides," he whispered in a sigh, "this is where I wanted you, and where I wanted to be."

You chuckled, "Oh, yeah? So cold in here you need a warm body in bed with you?"

"No," he whispered, "but I've been in love with you for months now that I didn't want you far from me. Doesn't feel right, seeing you go home without me - everyday. I was overjoyed to come back and see you still here."

"What?" He didn't let you turn around, just kept you both there; locked in your spoon. "Tommy, what're you saying?"

He took a sobering breath, "That this is what I want, this is where I want us to be."

"That's the whiskey talking."

"No, love, it's you," his lips danced across your ear, making you shiver. "It's always been you, but I wasn't in my right mind to do anything about it."

"And now you are?"

"I might be, I couldn't go another minute with you thinking I don't want you - that I don't value you in my life. The fact that you were ready to sleep downstairs hurt me more than I'm willing to admit," he sighed, "and I knew, I needed to confess a few things so you know, you're welcome in this family. You won't ever sleep downstairs, love, you're meant to be here... With me... If you want to be."

You had to slap his hand to get him to loosen his grip and let you turn around to face him; but his hand remained on your, moving up to grip your ribs. In a whisper, you asked, "You're being honest? Genuine?"

"I can't lie to you, you can always tell. So, am I lying?"

"I don't think so," you whispered with skepticism, eyes narrowed. Neither of your voices rose above a whisper, "Why say any of this, Tommy?"

"Because the idea of going another day without at least trying to tell you how I feel was beginning to feel suffocating."

"What about Grace?"

"It's taken me a bit, but I know now that I was infatuated with her simply because I had already decided you were out of my league."

"Do you hear yourself?" You grinned, caressing his cheek. "You're everything I've wished for, Tommy, but know I can't have. You're the one in a league of your own, I'm the one unable to touch you."

His head shook, "You're all I've wanted and more. I wasn't sure you'd think it appropriate - my affection for you - given you work for me."

"The same reason I feared voicing my affection for you, too."

"Now that it's in the open," he whispered, "how do you want to proceed?"

"We can figure logistics out later," you smiled, tracing your fingertips over his face, "but for now, I just want to enjoy this. I never thought you'd look at me the same way, and now that you do, I don't want to look away."

"You won't have to," he whispered. "I'm in this for us, my sweet, if you are."

"Nowhere I'd rather be," you whispered, cuddled close, and simply breathing the same air. For a single moment, Tommy felt unparalleled peace; the shovels quiet, heart content, and body warm.

requesting rules and masterlist

Peaky Blinders masterlist

#tommy shelby #tommy shelby drabble #tommy shelby imagine #tommy shelby fanfic #tommy shelby fanfiction #tommy shelby x reader #tommy shelby x f!reader #tommy shelby x fem!reader #tommy shelby x you #tommy shelby x y/n #peaky blinders #peaky blinders tommy #tommy peaky blinders #peaky blinders imagine #peaky blinders x reader #peaky blinders fanfic #peaky blinders x y/n #tommy shelby one shot

[hannibals-favourite-meal]

Fake It Till You Make It

Arthur Curry x plus size reader

Never pair two borderline insane superheroes together on a mission.

Warnings: black eyes, some injuries, fluff, fake marriage

WC: 716

Minors DNI

Picking up strange undercover missions was your specialty. You couldn’t even count the number of times you had to wear some crazy disguise and sneak into a drug running ring or a mobster dinner party. You have been in outfits ranging from heels taller than your will to live, covered in makeup and wearing jewels worth more than your life, to oil stained coveralls who had last been owned by Superman himself.

But this, this tops the lot. 

“Let me get this straight, you want me to pretend to be married to Aquaman so we can infiltrate a wildlife sanctuary which has been using great white sharks to smuggle drugs and guns over international borders.” Batman’s face remained stoic, as always.

“Yes.”

“And you actually expect this to work.”

“Yes.”

“Fuck, fine I guess. I’ll do it but I expect appropriate compensation.”

“You can’t drive the batmobile.”

“Five minutes.”

“No.”

“I sit in the passenger seat and you drive but I pick the music.”

“…..Fine.”

“Hell yeah! I guess the only thing left to do is to actually meet this fish man.” His eyes narrowed at you from behind his cowl.

“Don’t call him fish man.” You rolled your eyes and huffed.

“Jesus Christ, old man. Lighten up a bit.” His scowl deepened. But before he could reprimand you, there came a mighty yell from down the hall, causing both of you to turn and look at the source. A man, who could only be described as a giant, was barrelling down the corridor, long curly hair flowing behind him wildly as he ran. He was topless, which you greatly appreciated, considering the fact that he was built like a linebacker with tattoos covering every inch of his copper skin.

“Wifey!” And the next thing you knew, his broad shoulder was firmly planted in your soft stomach and you were moving backwards. Your back met the cold floor of the tower and a huge weight settled on top of you. It took you a second to realise what had happened.

“Did you just rugby tackle me?” His head tilted as if to say ‘duh’. He straddled your plump thighs, keeping you pinned to the ground, his hands were planted firmly by your head. Dark curls framed his face as he leaned forward, your noses almost brushing.

“Hi there wifey.” And he smiled brightly. Maybe this mission wouldn’t be too bad.

——————

You were soaked from head to toe, one eye swollen shut from a particularly good punch, your body completely sore from running and a chill that settled on your bones. Arthur wasn’t much better off than you; a few cuts along his arms and stomach, a dark bruise on his jaw.

But you were both smiling widely, still holding hands, your wedding bands glittering in the low light of the batplane.

Batman looked thoroughly exhausted. “What do you mean you’re married for real?”

Arthur shrugged. “We had to make it believable.” You nodded, backing up his point.

“He’s right, we would’ve been caught otherwise.”

“That’s what the forged documents are for!” You glanced at your counterpart, both of you trembled trying to contain your laughter.

“But those are fake, you could tell that from a mile away.”

“So your solution was to get legally married?!” 

“Yep.” “Pretty much.” You spoke at the same time. The older hero collapsed into one of the many seats on the plane, rubbing at his temples.

“I’ll have Alfred draw up the paperwork to get your marriage annulled.”

“No can do pal!” Bruce glanced at Aquaman, already dreading what was about to come out of his mouth next. “We’re married in Atlantean culture too and divorce is not an option.” 

Bruce sat there for a moment, his mouth opening and closing like a fish as his brain attempted to comprehend the sheer stupidity of the two people in front of him. And yet, he could only blame himself. Then, he said something he thought he would never have to say: “I should’ve listened to Superman.”

“Yeah you really should have.” You agreed, giving Arthur’s large hand a squeeze as you glanced up at him. “But hey! Now we’re permanent partners and we work really well together!”

“You blew up the wildlife sanctuary.”

“We got all of the animals out first!”

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[babybluebex]

Can I request a Thomas Shelby x reader fic where Tommy gets shot or injured in some way and he won’t let anyone touch him or deal with it except r. Just like some soft fluff of him being out of it on drugs for the pain plus the adrenaline and being all soft and whipped for r

sure! i hope this is good :)

It was late at night when you heard the boys file in downstairs. You had already gone to bed, hoping to find any semblance of rest while you waited for your husband and his brothers to come back from the deal with the Kimbers, and, while you hadn’t found it yet, their intrusion was still bothersome. 

You got out of bed and wrapped yourself in your robe, hoping to keep some form of decent, but the bedroom door flew open before you could properly secure the sash. “Fuck, Arthur,” you huffed at Arthur, standing there with his mouth open. “Doesn’t anybody in this house know how to knock?” 

“Sorry,” he said quickly, but he seemed much too preoccupied to really care about the invasion on your privacy. “Umm, Tommy needs you.”

“Oh, God,” you groaned. “What’s he done now?”

“He’s gotten himself all shot,” Arthur said, and your heart sank and a cold anxiety filled you from head to toe. You couldn‘t even hear Arthur’s words as you pushed past him and flew down the stairs, and you found John and Finn with your husband in the gambling room. All of your boys looked battered and beaten, blood on their lips or hands, white shirts irreparably stained, but nobody looked worse than your Thomas. He was sitting in a chair, his leg stretched out in front of him. While there was no blood on his face, his eyes looked hazy, like he could look right through you. His woolen pants leg was heavy with blood, and you could see the bullet hole near his hip, just below his belt. 

“Where was he shot?” you asked quickly, turning to John. Your brother in law fumbled with words for a second, long enough for tears to spring to your eyes, and you quickly shouted, “How bad is it, John?” 

“Just above his hip,” John said, and you whimpered as you realized that there was blood all over the nice seats of Tommy’s car; just another mess to clean up. You had anticipated messes when you married Tommy, but never being in the middle of most of them. “It’s bleeding a lot.” 

“Tommy?” you said sweetly, sniffling away your tears. Tommy hated seeing you cry on a good day, and you could only imagine what he would do when he saw them now.

“I told ‘em,” Tommy started, his voice cracking and throat dry. His eyes blinked slowly, and he struggled to swallow before finishing his sentence “I told ‘em that I wasn’t lettin’ no motherfucker touch me ‘cept you.” 

“Oh, Jesus,” you sighed. “What’ve you done to him now?” 

“He-He was in pain,” John began. “Screaming and wailing, the whole bit. We gave him a little morphine, just to shut him up.” 

“Morphine?” you echoed. “Fuck.” 

“I feel fine,” Tommy sighed heavily, and he started to sit up, but you swiftly pushed him back into the chair. “Sweetheart, I’m fine.” 

“Tommy, stop it, you’re not,” you said firmly. “You’ve been shot, someone needs to deal with this.” 

“Nobody touches me but you,” Tommy slurred. “Only you.” 

You sighed, and you moved to sit on the floor by Tommy’s leg, trying your best to examine the wound. You were no doctor, though, and you saw blood and mangled flesh, and you gagged. “There’s nothing I can do,” you told him. “I-I don’t know how to fix this.” 

“You’re smart,” Tommy insisted, and he tried to sit up once again, only for John to push him back again. “You’re so smart, baby, you’ll figure it out.” 

“Thank you, honey,” you said, and Tommy gave you a lazy smile, like he was trying but was too tired to really smile. Tommy hardly smiled anyway, and the sight of it pulled at your heart. He had to have been hurt very badly, because whatever dosage of morphine that his brothers gave him was much too high. “John, I can’t help, I don’t know what to do.”

“I’ll call for a doctor,” John sighed. “He’s gonna throw a fit when it’s not you.”

“Whatever it takes,” you shrugged, and you lightly touched Tommy’s knee. “Tommy? You with us?”

His gaze was glassy, and his icy eyes latched onto you as another sappy smile spread across his pink mouth. “M’here,” he said. “I love you, y’know?” 

“Oh, God,” you sighed. “Yes, Tommy, I know. I love you too.” 

Tommy smiled again, and he grabbed your hand, moving a little slower than usual. “I think I wanna have a baby with you,” he said, and you shushed him to try to keep his brothers from hearing. Too bad for you, John and Arthur both huffed laughs out of their noses, and you cringed. 

“We can talk about this later, baby,” you told Tommy gently, and he nodded, as if he understood what you meant, but he went on anyway.

“I just love you,” Tommy mumbled. “I love you, and I wanna have a family with you… Seeing you all big and pregnant… God, I dream about it.”

“Tommy, baby,” you said firmly. “Stop talking about this. Does anything hurt? Your hip?”

“Nothin’ hurts,” Tommy said. “Johnny gave me… I dunno, but feels good.” 

“Oh, this was John’s idea, was it?” you asked, looking over to the younger Shelby, and he quickly turned away from you. “Everything’ll be okay, Tommy, I promise.”

The doctor came quickly, and he cleaned and stitched up Tommy’s wound. It was an awful fight to get Tommy to even let the doctor near him, his drugged mind still only wanting and trusting you, and he only gave up the fight when you promised to stay right next to him the whole time. He babbled endlessly, any thought that came into his mind being issued from his mouth without a second’s hesitation, and you squeezed his hand whenever he said something that you didn’t exactly want him to. He kept going on about how badly he wanted to see you pregnant and how much he loved you, and you couldn’t help but smile, even though you hated his brothers hearing him. Nobody else was allowed in the gambling room while the doctor did his work, according to Arthur; he said Tommy was acting too weird and it would sully people’s view of him. You were relieved when the doctor proclaimed that Tommy was as fixed as he’d get, and John and Finn helped you bring Tommy up to the bedroom. 

“I love you,” Tommy told you as you helped him strip out of his bloody clothes to prepare for bed. You smiled, as he seemed to be regaining a little bit of himself, and you placed a quick kiss to his cheek. 

“I love you too, Tommy,” you told him. 

“I mean it,” Tommy said quickly. You were careful around his sewed and bandaged leg as you took down his pants, and you stood in pursuit of fresh underthings and pajama pants. “I may be a right shit husband to you, I know I am most days. But it’s only to protect you. I just want ya to be as good as you can be, and sometimes I feel like I’m holding you back. You could be wonderful, you would be, if you weren’t married to me.” 

“Oh, stop it,” you said, but your voice wavered, giving you away. “You’re everything to me, Tommy, I’d be nobody without you.” 

“I love you,” Tommy repeated, and you stopped your pursuit of pajamas to kiss him. His hands came up to hold your face, a little off the mark with the drug still in his system, and you put your hand lightly on top of his. “I just want what’s best for you, and this… Coming home at night, hurt from a gunfight, this isn’t the best.” 

“It’s the best for me,” you assured him. “Because it’s you. I don’t want anything more than you.” 

Tommy smiled softly, and his blue eyes sparkled. “You’re all I want,” he told you, and you nodded, letting him lay a kiss on your forehead. 

“You’re all I want, Tommy.”

#bex answers #anon request #tommy shelby x reader #tommy shelby x y/n #tommy shelby #thomas shelby x y/n #thomas shelby x reader #thomas shelby #cillian murphy #cillian murphy x reader #cillian murphy x y/n

[yanderepuck]

WE GOT ANOTHER ONE FOR THIS WHOOOORREE. It fits so well for him bc he's just so rough and doesn't care what happens to you as long as he feels please.

I love him on a sexual level and that's about it. Well let's thank @evil-quartett for this wheel prompt. I normally don't use dialogue prompts but something about this was so good.

Decided that it's going to be semi of a sequel to the last one I wrote

Prompt: "you know I love you, right?" "Yeah" "good, because I'm going to fuck you like I don't"

You wrap your arms around him from behind. Too short to look over this shoulder you move your head around him to see what he is doing.

"Whatcha working on?" You definitely want to bother him.

Faust jumps slightly from your touch. "When did you get back?"

"Just a few minutes ago. Seeing you was the first thing on my list," you smile at him as he sets his things down, turning to look at you.

He puts his hands on your cheeks and kisses you

"You were gone too long. That old bat isn't allowed to keep you that long again."

You had gone to the mansion for a few days per Comte's request.

"I'm sorry. But I'm back now," you smile and stand on your toes to kiss him. "But I'm glad to know you missed me."

"Of course I missed my meerschweinchen," he smirks at you, wrapping his arms around your waist. "Who else was I supposed to play with?"

"Charles was still here," you tease. Faust doesn't look amused however. "It was nice to see everyone there. I've missed them."

"All of them?" Faust knows some of the guys there are a tad... questionable.

"Yes all of them. Even if all Arthur did was flirt and Theo kept calling me a dog," you groan slightly. "He kept telling me to bark when he would ask me something."

Faust glares slightly. Oddly enough Theo is the one he dislikes the most. You would have bet anything it would be Arthur considering how much he wants to bite you, and how many jokes he makes about sleeping together.

"I hope you didn't spend too much time with him," he tries to stop himself from growling by biting his tongue.

You thought for a moment and that was the only answer he needed.

"I think i spent time with everyone equally. Though I guess I tend to spend more time with Theo and Arthur. They like to drag me around with them."

"That's it," Faust picks you up, setting you on the table behind him. "You're not going over there again."

"You can't ban me from the mansion, silly," you let yourself be picked up. On the table you are just a little above eye level for him.

"But I can stop you from leaving this castle."

He stands between your legs, his hands resting on your thighs. He's being so touchy today, you love it. Maybe you should leave more often.

"Are you going to trap me here like an evil witch," you giggle and drape your arms over his shoulders.

"Something like that," his hands slide up to your hips.

You begin to play with his hair as you lean closer to kiss him. You didn't mean for it to be rough, but Faust's kiss in return was.

You moaned and he pulled you closer to the edge so your bodies were pressed together.

Without waiting for your response, he was already in unbuttoning your shirt. He wanted to feel your skin. He wanted to squeeze you, pull at your flesh. Anything to feel you.

He already has you half undressed before you even started working on his clothes.

"They better not have touched you," he growled

Now you sense it. He's jealous. More than just because you left as well. You decide to play into it, wanting to know how far he'll take it.

"Not in a bad way, no. I got some hugs. Theo did get a little drunk and clung to me at one point," that was really Isaac. Some drinks got mixed up and you had to help him to bed.

You could feel Faust get tense as he grabbed you harder.

"Don't worry. No one bit me," you kiss him, finally getting his coat to the floor.

"They better not have," he gets your bra off and roughly gropes you, forcing a moan out of you. Just that squeeze made your mind go fuzzy.

"You're already wet for me, aren't you?" He smirks. He tries getting your skirt and underwear off. You rock your body every which way to get the fabric out from under you. In seconds you're fully naked on his table while he still has most of his clothes on.

You whine and get his shirt fully unbuttoned. "Why must you have such complicated clothes," you pout, glaring at his stupid amount of belts.

"Fine, fine," normally he likes to watch you struggle with taking his clothes off, but he does it for you this time. In seconds he's standing there naked, between your legs.

Your hands rest on his waist, keeping him close to you. Leaning forward, you kiss him. Immediately getting rough. His hands go all over your body, squeezing any bit he can while your hands go down to his cock.

He gasps between the kisses as you get him harder, wrapping your hands around his length. Pumping him, he gets harder and harder with more precum coming out of his tip.

He bites your lip and gets closer. He reaches behind you to move anything in the table that might be in the way.

His lips go down to your neck, kissing and nibbling at your skin. "You know I love you, right?"

You moan and keep working his cock, moving your head to the side for him. "O-of course."

"Good," he nibbles at the front of your neck, taking your hands off of him. You feel his tip press against your hole. You're eager for him. If you could suck him in you would.

"Because I'm going to fuck you like I don't," he growled in your ear and pushed himself all the way into you.

You gasp, falling back on the table. With a death grip on your hips he doesn't give you time to adjust. Now that he's in you he won't be kind. He pulls you closer to the edge to make sure he's as deep as he can get.

You can already feel bruises forming at your hips. Pushing your legs further apart, he thrusts into you roughly, only caring about his pleasure. Not only is he holding you close to the edge, but he's holding you down against the hard table.

"You're mine, got it!"

The air was practically fucked out of your lungs and you're still trying to catch up. "Y-yesss," all you could say.

"You're staying here. I will fuck you until you can't walk to be sure of that," his hips snapped into you harder.

You barely got time to moan before you were screaming. His tip is slamming into your cervix and he keeps trying to drive deeper and deeper into your hole.

You hold onto your tits, squeezing them yourself. Your body starts to squirm. It's too much. You squeeze your eyes shut and pant.

Your toes curl and your nails dig into your own skin. The table under you shakes with each thrust. Faust doesn't seem to be bothered by a few of his tools rolling around.

You knew he was the type to get jealous, but you didn't think it would be this bad. Your legs try to close. He's going so deep that you already feel sore

He forces your legs flat onto the table, holding them down.

"Stay or I'm tying you down," he bares his fangs at you, keeping his hands on your legs, digging his fingers into your thighs.

You scream again. As much as you'd love to be tied down, you don't force your legs against him.

In moments you clench around him, coating his cock and your walls in cum.

He moans now that he's able to slide in and out quicker.

He goes to take his glasses off, barely slowing down. They kept sliding and the chain was getting annoying. He holds you tightly again and gets harder.

You squeeze your flesh more, screaming in pain and pleasure. Now you're able to tell the difference from when he's using his vampire strength. He holds back more than you realize normally.

"Mine," he growls before cumming into you. You didn't expect it, and he didn't slow down at all as it shot out. He just fucked his cum deep into you. Even once his load was fully out he continued to keep the pace and force.

Your eyes rolled to the back of your head and you could barely hold onto yourself at this point, half of your body fell limp.

"That's right. Just lay there and let me fuck you."

~~

Tag list~

@kissmetwicekissmedeadly @fang-and-feather @xalxtusxiao @namine-somebodies-nobody @ana-thedaydreamer @evil-quartett @ameyoruakiikemenseries @yrenesposts @p1nkpandomium @tele86 @damekathearasi @lokis-laugh @candied-boys @breadmercury @aquagirl1978 @xenokiryu @nightghoul381 @floydsteeth @vampiricpancake @tako-cafe

#ikevamp #ikemen vampire #ikevamp faust #smut smut smut

[sixgunluvr]

Mature 18+ Readers only!

Just a short story written in 1st person.

The looks he gives me stir something deep inside of me, an ache that only he can sate.

Without hesitation, Arthur thrust inside of me. I gasped at the intrusion, feeling him fill me to the brim. He felt amazing, like he was made to fit me perfectly. The feeling of him inside me was enough to make my toes curl, but when he began to move, that's when things got really intense.

Arthur set a punishing rhythm, driving into me with such force that the whole bed shook beneath me.

Every thrust seemed to reach deeper than the last, sending jolts of pleasure through my body that made me cry out his name.

He wrapped one hand around my throat, not enough to choke but just enough to remind me who was in charge. With the other, he reached down between my legs, finding my clit and rubbing slow circles around it. My orgasm built quickly, climbing higher and higher until I felt like I was on the edge of a cliff, ready to tumble over.

"Come for me," Arthur growled, his voice low and commanding.

He increased the pace of his fingers on my clit, and within seconds I was tumbling over the edge, my orgasm crashing over me like a wave.

Arthur didn't let up, continuing to thrust into me with hard, deep strokes that made me see stars. His fingers on my clit remained relentless, drawing out every last tremor of pleasure from my body.

"Oh, fuck, oh fuck," I chanted, unable to form complete sentences.

My eyes rolled back in my head as Arthur continued to piston in and out of me, his hips slapping against my thighs. Sweat dripped from his brow, landing on my chest and mixing with the sweat already there. His grip on my hips tightened, leaving bruises that would linger long after this moment had passed.

"Say it.

Tell me whose pussy this is," Arthur demanded as he thrust into me again, making my whole body shudder with pleasure.

"Yours," I gasped, my voice barely above a whisper. "Only yours."

Arthur grunted in satisfaction, his thrusts becoming more urgent as he felt himself getting closer to the edge.

"That's right, darlin'. You're mine." Arthur's words sent a thrill down my spine, and I felt myself getting even wetter. He thrust into me once more, his hips slapping against my thighs with a loud smack.

I could feel his cock swelling inside me, pushing me closer and closer to another orgasm. His fingers on my clit moved with a newfound urgency, and within seconds I was screaming his name, my pussy clenching around him like a vice.

Arthur groaned as he felt me come, his own release crashing over him like a tidal wave. He collapsed on top of me, both of us panting and gasping for breath.

"Fuck, darlin'," he murmured, his voice muffled by my hair.

His breath was hot against my skin, making me shiver in delight. I could feel his heart pounding in his chest, matching the rhythm of my own.

Arthur's body was still intimately joined with mine, and I didn't want him to move. I never wanted this moment to end. But all too soon, he rolled off me and onto his back, his chest heaving as he caught his breath.

I turned to face him, propping myself up on my elbow as I studied his handsome face.

His green eyes were dark with desire, and his brown hair was tousled from our earlier activities. I couldn't help but reach out and run my fingers through it, marveling at the softness of the strands.

Arthur caught my hand and brought it to his lips, pressing a kiss to my wrist. "You're amazing, darlin'," he murmured.

I blushed at his words, feeling a warmth spread throughout my body. No one had ever made me feel so desired before.

#red dead redemption 2 #red dead redemption community #red dead redemption two #rdr2 fandom #arthur morgan #red dead redemption arthur #rdr2 arthur #red dead redemption photography #rdr2 photomode #rdr2 #rdr fandom #rdr fanfiction #rdr2 photography #rdr2 community #reddeadcommunity #red dead 2 #reddeadlove #red dead fandom #rdr2 fanfic #rdr2 arthur morgan #arthur morgan rdr2 #arthur morgan smut #arthur morgan fanfiction #rdr2 smut #smut #writing #my true love #my obsession #my cowboy

[the-al-chemist]

Hush

This little story was written as part of @thethreebroomsticksfic’s Weasley Week 2023. Today, it’s all about Arthur and Molly, who in this scene find themselves with an empty nest. Enjoy.

Warnings: None, this is pure fluff.

September 1992

The Burrow was quiet, eerily so.

For as long as Molly could remember, noise had been her constant companion. She and Arthur had spent twenty-two years with their family growing around them, and their home had always been a place that hummed and thrummed with the comings-and-goings of everyday family life.

She had become so used to it that she could barely remember what quiet felt like. It turned out that quiet felt a lot like purposeless.

Earlier that day, the Weasleys had said goodbye to six children at Kings Cross Station. It was a goodbye that she was familiar with — she had been making it ever since Bill was eleven, after all — but this was the first time she had returned home without any of her children with her. Now, even little Ginny was at school, and she was left alone in this empty house that felt far bigger than her home.

In a vague, desperate bid to distract herself, she picked up her wool and began to knit, the repetitive clicking of the needles bringing her some much-needed respite from the oppressive hush of the room around her. She was so fixated on the task that she didn’t notice one hand of the nine-handed clock on the wall moving slowly to rest on the word “home”, and jumped at the sound of the door closing shut behind her husband.

“So, I went all over London,” Arthur told her as he made his way across the living room. “Couldn’t find the car anywhere. I can only think that…”

His voice tailed off and he frowned, looking around the room as if he were trying to find something.

“Did you rearrange the furniture?”

Not even looking up from her knitting, Molly shook her head. Her husband’s eyebrows furrowed deeper.

“Then what’s changed?” he asked. “Something seems different here.”

Molly knew exactly what was different, but she couldn’t bring herself to say it. The loops on her needle seemed to blur, and she looked up at Arthur with eyes filling with tears. Arthur sighed. He had realised. He could hear it too, the near-silence that threatened to deafen them both.

“I’m not sure what to do with myself,” Molly told him in a voice that trembled with near-laughter. “There’s nothing that I need to do.”

“Well, that’s good, isn’t it? You can do whatever you like for once.”

Arthur was trying to reassure her, but his words did little to comfort Molly.

“I’m not even sure what I like to do anymore,” she confessed. “All I am good at is being a mother.”

“Well, that is simply not true,” said Arthur, taking off his glasses and cleaning them as he spoke. “I know for a fact that you are a spectacular dancer.”

“I haven’t danced in years, Arthur.”

Arthur smiled and pointed his wand at the wireless, which began to play a song by Celestina Warbuck.

“Then I think it’s high time we rectified this.” Arthur picked Molly’s knitting up from her lap and took both her hands in his own. “Will you dance with me, Mollywobbles?”

“I’m getting wobblier by the day,” she muttered as she stood up to join him.

“Oh, hush.”

Molly fell quiet, and danced slowly to the music with Arthur. As the tune reached its end, they continued to side-step without it.

“It’s not so bad, just being the two of us,” she heard Arthur murmur.

“I suppose it isn’t.”

“And there are plenty of other ways for us to fill our time now that we have the house to ourselves.”

There was an almost mischeivous glint in Arthur’s blue eyes that made Molly smile, her cheeks blushing like the schoolgirl she had been when they had first met. Arthur’s head bowed towards her, and she rose up slightly on her toes so that her lips could meet his.

But before they could, there was a loud crack from outside the window. A moment later, the door opened to reveal Molly and Arthur’s oldest son. They quickly moved away from one another.

“Bill, dear!” Molly exclaimed, self-consciously patting down her hair. “What are you doing here?”

“Came home to surprise you, didn’t I? Thought you two might be at your wits’ ends without the others at home to look after.” Bill hugged his parents in turn, before kicking off his boots and flumping himself down onto the sofa. “Have you two heard about the flying car they’ve been seeing going north? It was all over the Evening Prophet.”

Molly shot a dangerous look at her husband, whose face turned a brighter shade of red than his thinning hair. Apparently oblivious to his father’s discomfort, Bill swung his legs up and rested them on the sofa arm.

“So, Mum, what’s for dinner?”

It was with a small sigh that Molly made her way into the kitchen, pausing only to use her wand to tidy away her son’s shoes.

She should have known that this peculiar quiet would end up being too good to last.

#molly weasley #arthur weasley #weasley family #Weasley week #the burrow #harry potter fanfiction #hpff #al writes #ttb #canon compliant

[covenofthearticulate]

Have you decided what your fav characters’ favorite plays are?

NO I'M TOO OVERWHELMED LMAO HELP!! Okay but here are some thoughts about what sort of theatre I think they enjoy:

Lestat: Obviously since he got his start doing commedia dell'arte I think he'll always have a soft spot in his heart for those old comedies. (Honestly, I think Lestat is one of the only vampires who enjoys "lowbrow" comedy and I love that for him.) The style of traveling street theatre Lestat would've been performing during his time as Lelio was largely improvisational, and though it moved into a more scripted form over time, I think Lestat is an improv queen. I also get all giddy and happy thinking about his reaction to the fact that commedia dell'arte is still performed today! Like, I did a production of Servant of Two Masters in college lmfao it's still viewed as one of the foundational tenants of theatre to this day and I think that would really tickle him.

He's also a Shakespeare fan but historically speaking we know Lestat would've had to have read French translations which of course weren't impossible to come by, but given all of Lestat's circumstances in his early life (poor, uneducated, etc) it's definitely worth noting that he would've had to have worked hard to get at Shakespeare. I think it's so funny that his favorite play in canon is Macbeth and that he sees himself as Macbeth, whereas Louis and Claudia totally saw him as Lady Macbeth (which is why I wrote a lil ficlet about it LOL)

Okay LASTLY I also just want to say I think Lestat loves loves LOOOOVE restoration comedy and the comedy of manners that was a little before his time but just really focused on like. Outrageous comedy and satire. Lestat likes to laugh, okay!! He loves Moliere just as much as he loves Shakespeare! Tartuffe and She Stoops to Conquer are definitely plays he can quote by heart.

Armand: Shakespeare, yes, but very specifically: Jacobean Revenge Tragedies. These were a lot darker, a lot more hardcore and angsty (as the title suggests!). One day I'll have to get Armandblr's input for some meta and psychological background as to why Armand would be obsessed with plays where the protagonist is wronged so egregiously that they go down a path of murder and (gruesome, often cannibalistic) bloodshed and rage-induced hysteria that ultimately ends in their own demise. But for now I'll just say that I feel it in my bones. I think he staged The Spanish Tragedy at least a few times at the Theatre des Vampires.

Also I think he'd definitely be into theatre of the absurd, especially in his Devil's Minion era! He goes through phases where he really leans into the existentialism and finds it amusing and thought-provoking, but sometimes it also majorly fucks him up (similar to Lestat)

Louis: He's a Romantic at heart, and certainly he loves the classics, but we've already been over Shakespeare so I'll say that I also think Louis has a soft spot for the American canon. Think Tennessee Williams, Arthur Miller, Eugene O'Neill, etc. He's a modernist girlie, and I think those plays would be a good guiding light into understanding modern America for Louis. I think Louis often sees middle class America as a fascinating subject to study (rather than, like, a reality that real people live), and I think modernist plays are really good at toe-ing the line of like, being deeply humanizing and beautiful and tragic if done right, and also still being somewhat performative and maybe even a bit artificial and contained behind a fourth wall. I think that dichotomy would be fascinating to Louis. His favorites would be A View from the Bridge and Cat on a Hot Tin Roof.

Marius: Unfortunately there are like 0 Roman tragedies that survived in writing, but we know that they existed and were actually slightly different than Greek tragedies in that the characters actually voiced more of their internal psychological conflict, and also apparently the playwrights were influenced by the development of new rhetorical theory, so a lot of the writing incorporated like public persuasion. So I do think Marius would've been into those but listen I also happen to know for a fact that Marius' favorite play is Shakespeare's Coriolanus. He told me himself. I just read over the wiki synopsis to refresh my memory and I'm losing my mind over this line: "The two tribunes condemn Coriolanus as a traitor for his words and order him to be banished. Coriolanus retorts that it is he who banishes Rome from his presence." like PLEASE that's so petty I love it. Real talk though Marius loves a good political drama and look I know I've brought up Shakespeare a lot in this post already but no one is doing it like him, especially with the Romans!!

Daniel: he's a theatre of the absurd queen <3

#side note: i actually feel terrible posting this because there's nothing CONTEMPORARY but. i'm a classics girlie i'm sorry. #i literally work at a NEW WORKS THEATRE COMPANY we only produce CONTEMPORARY ART but i'm so bad at reading new shit #i get overwhelmed by it lmfao theatre history is so much easier for me #anyway PHEW thanks for asking this <3 #;answered #vampire meta #lestat de lioncourt #louis de pointe du lac #marius de romanus #armand #daniel molloy #headcanons

[dilemmaontwolegs]

Playboy || PG10 {4}

Pairing: Pierre Gasly x fem!reader Summary: New revelations come when you take the fight to Leo. Warnings: 18+ only, nsfw, illegal activities, mentions of past violence and reader injuries WC: 2.6k F1 Masterlist || One || Two || Three || Four

As night descended, the street rats and hoodlums found their way out of their holes and congregated in the designated meeting spot east of Monaco. It wasn’t such a surprise to see the meet was far busier than normal but it wasn’t going to be a normal night, not when you had called out the Street King and challenged him. 

“You sure about this, Beautiful?” Pierre asked as you pulled up into the parking lot.

“A bit late to ask that, isn’t it?” you joked as you sent a reassuring smile and placed your hand over his where it rested on your thigh. A familiar car was already there and you parked next to the Pista. “What’s Pretty Boy doing here?”

This time it was Pierre’s turn to smile as he waved to his friends who gathered around the Ferrari. “Did you really think we would let you come alone?”

You turned off the car and tossed the keys to the Aston Martin Vantage back to Pierre as Arthur opened your door. Most of the guys you had met at the track had come along but the rest were busy enjoying the ladies dancing behind a Subaru that had an insane sound system installed. 

“Your PR team is probably shitting themselves,” you teased as Charles kissed your cheeks. 

“You just worry about yourself, Trouble. It’s not exactly a warm welcome.”

You looked around the carpark and met the harsh glares from the men and women that stood with the Street Kings. They were people you once called family and promised to have your back, but now they looked ready to stab you in it. 

Only one was brave enough to cross the car park and you met her halfway. “You shouldn’t have come, T. Just go home before you do something that you can’t take back.”

“I don’t think you can give advice on what not to do, Kat.” you snickered. “Did you even wait for my side of the bed to go cold before you climbed in it?”

Kat looked at her toes that peeked out of her heels. “He was a mess when you left. I was just trying to help.”

“I didn’t leave, I was thrown out. Can you understand what that felt like? I lost the only family I had left.”

Warm arms enveloped your waist and Pierre’s chin came to rest on your shoulder as he kissed your cheek. The possessive move made your stomach do a little flip and you didn’t hate the feeling. 

Kat eyed him up like a tasty treat and she even licked her lips. “Looks to me like you’re doing alright for yourself.”

“Better than alright.” You tipped your head to the side as he traced his lips down your neck and you felt Leo’s eyes find you in the crowd. “Showtime, Cupcake.”

“Cupcake?” Pierre chuckled, his arms tightening protectively around you as he noticed Leo stalking his way over.

“I think it’s an improvement, or would you rather be Playboy?”

“You can call me whatever you like,” he whispered in your ear. “As long as you call me yours.”

You couldn’t stop the stupid giggle that surprised even you, and Leo frowned at the sound as he draped an arm over Kay’s shoulders. “I thought I told you not to come around here anymore.”

You used Pierre as a shield, convincing yourself that you weren’t affected by Leo’s presence when you were wrapped in his arms. Leo had broken you when he cast you out and it left an inferno of rage burning inside of you. But with Pierre you felt something new, softer, safer. 

Using the courage that came upon you, you met his eyes and held the stare, unflinching. “What can I say, Leo? I’m stubborn. Plus, Devante invited me here when he ran like a little bitch from our tête-à-tête at Dog’s Head. So I’m here, and now we can race.”

Leo laughed, looking around the crowd that had gathered as they felt the tension rise. “You came here to race but you have no car, babygirl.”

“I have a car, it’s right there.” You pointed to the Nissan GTR that Devante was leaning against. “Everyone here knows I won it.”

“A cute little edited video doesn’t mean shit.”

A chorus of boos came from the crowd but it was loudest behind you and you couldn’t help smiling at the support.

“Seems like it means something to them. How about this? D keeps his car, but I’ll race you for yours instead. Right here, for everyone to witness. Wouldn’t that be a change…”

“Deal,” he smirked, “but you still don’t have a car, babygirl.”

“She can use mine.”

“Not this again,” you groaned as Pierre placed the key to his Aston Martin in your hand. “Insurance isn’t going to cover this.”

His laugh warmed the shell of your ear as he whispered, “I guess this guarantees me two more dates then.”

“Pretty sure what you did last night already got you there, Tiger,” you whispered back.

“Enough,” Leo snapped. “I’ll take your car, Gasly, but I’ll let you keep the bitch.”

You turned and planted your hands against his chest as you felt him take a step forward. Electricity seemed to spark between you as you saw the same fiery spirit you had inside you. It was fucking attractive and you were struggling not to run your hands down his body.

“Let him go, QT, let’s see what you man’s got,” Leo taunted. 

“We’ll see how cocky you are when she whips your ass,” Pierre spat as Charles joined you in distancing the two men.

You scanned the crowd before facing Leo  with determination on your face. “Let’s just settle this on the streets, yeah? That’s what everyone came here to see.”

—

The two cars parked up at the starting line could not have been more different. Leo always loved American muscle cars and while you could appreciate the strength of the beasts there was nothing quite like a sleek European supercar. His bulky ‘69 Camaro looked a sickly yellow next to the newest Vantage, its dark blue paint making it almost invisible on the moonless night.

The worst thing about the American car was that it left his driver's seat right next to yours. 

“She’s a pretty thing, isn’t she?” Leo smirked as he reached through the open window and stroked your cheek “A shame the rest of her is so fucked up, and the nightmares, every single night, it’s fucking inconvenient.” You felt Pierre’s eyes on you as Leo continued his psychological war games. “No, daddy. Leave him alone. I’ll do whatever you want.”

“Shut the fuck up,” you snapped as you changed the car to sport mode and adjusted the balance of the wheels. 

“Daddy, wake up, please, daddy.”

“Stop, please, that’s so not cool,” Kat grumbled from the other passenger seat. 

You put the window up as a scantily clad young woman stepped out onto the start line. 

“What was that about?” Pierre asked as he watched you grip the steering wheel tighter.

Your heart rate began to slow as you felt your mind slip into the quiet place you went to with every race. It was as if the noise in your head could switch off when you put your foot to the floor and all your worries would disappear for a short while. “The same question you asked me last night, how I got my scars.”

The young woman pointed to you, and you revved your engine in response. Leo did the same.

“You didn’t have any nightmares last night did you?”

She lifted one hand into the air, then the other. 

“No,” you murmured as you realised your sleep had been undisturbed in his arms. “I didn’t.”

“Can you tell me about the scars?”

You glanced at Pierre, the corner of your vision catching the moment the race started and Leo shot off the starting line. “Soon. I have a race to win.”

You drove in a trance, the terrain outside passing in a blur and all you could focus on was the road ahead. Leo may have had the head start but his car was heavier, not even the difference in horsepower could make up for the weight the Camaro carried. 

“My father ran into some money trouble a while back, the banks wouldn’t loan him any more so he made a deal with some bad men.”

Pierre listened intently as you navigated the winding Côté d’Azur backroads like it was a quiet Sunday outing. Leo’s taillights were almost brushing the front bumper as you played with him. It was payback for toying with you. 

“One day they came to the shop and he couldn’t pay them.”

You took a steadying breath before pulling out behind Leo and taking him on the outside of the corner. The tires were screaming at you for the abuse you were putting them through but the traction held through the force of the turn and then you were ahead.

“You don’t have to…”

“I want to,” you replied honestly. You may not have known him long but you felt like you knew him enough that you wouldn’t be judged. “I tried to stop them from hurting him but I…I didn’t stand a chance. I was set to inherit the shop so I guess they thought if they killed us both it would be theirs.”

“But they didn’t kill you.”

“Like I said, I’m stubborn,” you tried to laugh but it fell flat as you rubbed the psychological itch where the long healed scars sat on your waist. “Turns out you can survive without one kidney, a pancreas or a spleen.”

“Fucking hell, Beautiful,” Pierre choked out as he reached across the car to wipe away the tear you hadn’t notice escape. “You are unbelievably strong.”

You pulled your head away as you felt undeserving of the words. “I couldn’t save my dad. Or the shop.”

You were almost at the crest of the mountain and then you would be rocketing it back down the otherside before coming full circle back to the car park. There was nothing left to say but it was enough that Pierre rested his hand on your thigh, drawing small relaxing circles with his thumb as Leo’s lights chased the back of the car.

“Out of curiousity, why are you going so slow?” Few people would call 110 mph on a winding road slow, but everything was probably slow after the speeds he drove in a formula one car. 

“I wanted him to think he had a chance.” You sent him a lopsided grin as you started to accelerate. “Before I took it away.”

The crowd parted for you as you skidded across the finish with a burnout that promised a new set of tires would be needed, but you made no move to get out as you waited. You wanted to see his face as he drove towards you, you wanted to see the moment of defeat when he crossed the finish line. 

You weren’t even exhilarated by the win. It was too easy, but you knew it was going to be. You had built his car and knew every limitation it had, you also knew it would never be serviced to your standard since you were excommunicated. 

“I thought I would enjoy this more,” you admitted as you saw Leo’s face warp in anger. 

“How do you feel?”

“Bored,” you said with a shrug as your door was opened. The bubble you found yourself in with Pierre popped and you suddenly heard the crowd chanting. Queen, QT, Trouble. The nicknames were deafening and Leo’s scream was swallowed by it as you watched him kick his car door. “It’s like an episode of toddlers in tiaras. Please tell me you have at least one ex who makes you question your life choices.”

He smirked as he kissed your knuckles. “One that had a tantrum much worse than this, I promise.”

You stepped out of the car and met Pierre at the front of the car, falling into the space between his legs like a puzzle that fit perfectly. “Thank you,” you whispered as his arms came around your body, his hand snaking up under your shirt to brush over the scars. “I couldn’t have done this without you.”

“I thought you were bored,” he teased.

“Oh, I am,” you giggled before sobering up. “But I still had to do it, just to know.” 

“You’re welcome, Beautiful.”

Something flashed in front of you and you turned your head at the last second but the pain never came. Pierre’s lightning reflexes had caught the set of keys Leo had launched at your face, his fingers tightening around them as he rose to his full height.

“The fuck,” Pierre growled.

“It’s okay, babe,” you said as you unfurled his fist and took the keys. “He’s just showing everyone what a sore loser he is.”

“Babe, hmm, getting better. I’ll work you up to My Love one day.”

You opened your mouth to respond but you didn’t have a witty remark ready and something else caught your attention in front of you.

“Kat, baby, where are you going?” Leo growled as he grabbed her wrist to keep her from leaving his side.

She scoffed as she pulled her hand from his grasp. “You’re not King anymore, why would I stay with you?” 

“Okay, maybe it’s not so boring here, lover boy.” 

Pierre’s chest bumped your back with his quiet laugh. “I didn’t think I would meet someone as interested in drama as I am.” 

“You met your match.”

“I know.”

You turned and kissed his soft, pink lips before stepping out of his warm embrace. “Hey Leo. Catch.”

He caught the set of keys you tossed back and stared at them dumbly. “What game are you playing now?” 

“No game,” you assured him with your hands up in peace. “I didn’t come here for your car. Or yours,” you said to Devante.

“Then why did you come at all?”

You shrugged because you really didn’t know anymore. Whatever justice you were chasing seemed to evaporate and the win was a hollow one. “Just to prove I was the best, but you already knew that when I beat you months ago.”

There were whispers among the crowds as the rumours were proved true and you walked back to the Vantage that was surrounded by Pierre and his friends who had welcomed you into their group. They were so different from the family you made with the Street Kings, but different was good. You didn’t need any more playboys or street racers, you were moving on to better things.

“Keep your car, Leo, keep your title. I have everything I need right here.” You took your place back in front of Pierre, never behind or hidden by a man again. You didn’t need protecting, you needed supporting - and he understood that. Turning in his arms, you draped yours around his neck and grinned up at him. “Wanna go for a drive?”

His hands slipped down lower over your hips and he dipped his head to yours, kissing you in confirmation. “I can be your passenger princess.”

“I was actually thinking you could drive me,” you suggested, his eyebrows raising at the idea you had hated. “Turns out I just wanted the choice.”

His smile grew and he took the keys back, nodding his head to Ilies, Charles and the others waiting. “You guys up for a cruise?”

“Careful, you’re gonna have your own little street gang soon, Tripod,” you teased as they happily agreed and separated towards their sports cars.

Charles stumbled at the nickname and turned around with a grimace on his face. “Seriously!”

Pierre grinned as he threw his arm over your shoulders proudly and you resist sending the Ferrari driver a wink. “Told you, Pretty Boy, you’re too innocent, but we’ll change that.”

“Still gonna be Trouble I see.”

“Trouble by nature, trouble by name.”

#pierre gasly x reader #pierre gasly imagine #pierre gasly x y/n #pierre gasly x you #pierre gasly fanfic #formula one imagine #formula 1 fanfic #f1 fanfic #f1 imagine #formula one x reader #formula one fanfiction #formula 1 x you

[whispersweetnothingsinmyhead]

Rough Night

Pairing: Luke Skywalker x Reader

Warnings/Content: Talks of PTSD, trauma, nightmares, sleep paralysis, pre-established relationship, ex-inquisitor reader, rebel spy reader, fluff, hurt/comfort, domestic moments

Comments: Inspired by Nell and Arthur from the haunting of hill house. First whatever this is so be nice, I think this is more general reader I tried to be ambiguous as possible. Can you tell I'm touch starved??

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

Your eyes open to meet the stone ceiling of your home on Yavin. Barely registering the soft comforting glow of the moonlight, too filled with fear from whatever you were previously running from. Instead you make a move to jolt forward, to run. But your limbs make no attempt to move, stuck in place, unable to move. You don't remember the dream you wake up from but you knew it was bad. Your breathing is heavy and you feel like you've just ran across the mountains of the small planet you inhabit. All you know right now is that something is after you, something is coming to burn down this quaint life you've built with Luke. Take you back to Nur, to that dark, lonely place. You feel your muscles go rigid as you try to fight this invisible force. You can hear yourself release some sleep covered whines, not like you want. Your eyesight grows blurred with tears but you strive to see past them anyway.

"Hey, hey." Luke's voice is soft, a bit gruff from sleep but you see him enter your line of sight. A hand landing on your cheek, grounding you. Your eyes meet his sterling blue and you can feel your muscles relax slightly, as they always seem to do around him. "It's been a long time." He shushes you with a soft kiss to your temple, his hand stroking your hair.

"Relax, breathe." He takes a deep breath in and you automatically follow him, his hand now tracing along your neck and arms. Taking your twitching fingers in his grasp to calm them, ground you. "Remember what we talked about? Your body is just moving slow, have to let it catch up." He brings your stiff hand to his lips, softly kissing your fingers as you finally lower your breathing.

"I'm going to turn on the light alright?" His arm that was previously snug under your head shifts as he removes it and your head dips into the pillow underneath you. You wish you could grab him and instead pull him closer but your muscles are still rigid, slowly but surely waking up.

The lamp brightens the room dramatically and before you can take a breathe in Luke is already back beside you, his hand coming back to your fingers. You manage to grasp his hand with the tips of your fingers, the pressure on your chest slowly but surely melting away. You take a deep breathe in, finally fully able to get the oxygen you need. You blink the tears away from your eyes, a few falling down you cheek.

"There we go, just like that, relax." The thumb of his real hand wipes your stray tears away and he leans forward to leave a lingering kiss on your forehead.

Minutes pass like this as you attempt to move, managing to relax and flex your shoulders, wiggle your toes. You close your eyes as you finally regain full control of your body again, a relieved sigh escaping you.

"You want to talk about it?" Luke is still on his side, fingers still tracing your cheek and eyes. You move your head closer to his form. If it was up to you, you would completely melt into him. Let him swallow you whole. You shake your head as a few extra tears make their way to your cheeks.

"I don't remember what I was dreaming. Just that something was after me. Something that was going to hurt you in the process." Your voice is weak, instead savoring the way his feather light fingers trace your eyebrows, your nose.

"Everything is fine, it's just you and me." Luke's voice is calm, like an anchor in a sea of tidal waves. "I'd never let anyone take you away, not again." It's spoken like a promise, and he takes your hand again, grabbing it firmly and bringing it back to his lips to place a kiss on your wrist.

"I know." You whisper and move your hand out of his grasp to softly cup his cheek. His stare is intense but to you he feels like the sun on a cold day, warming you. "I'm sorry I woke you." Your voice wavers but your hand still moves along the smooth skin of his face.

"Stop, you needed me, it's kind of my job."

"It's not your job to take care of me." You argue softly, no bite to your words, just worry. He shouldn't have to sacrifice a good nights sleep for you, shouldn't put his life on hold to pick up your broken pieces.

He knows what you're thinking, "Jokes on you, I like taking care of you." He grows that goofy smile as his hand comes up to cup your own hand that is now trailing his neck. You can't stop the smile that grows on your face as he leans in closer head settling on the pillow beside you. "I know what I've signed up for, I know you, and I'll let you know if I think you're taking advantage of me."

He leans forward and captures your lips into a slow kiss. It's short and sweet but leaves you dizzy in the head. "Thank you." Your voice is nothing but a whisper. "I love you."

"I love you too."

#luke skywalker imagine #luke skywalker x reader #luke skywalker x you #luke skywalker #star wars imagine #luke skywalker fanfiction #luke skywalker fluff

[sitp-recs]

Masterclass in smut 🔥

Happy Friday everyone! As promised, here’s a multishipper/multi-fandom smutty reclist with my personal wank bank favorite ships doing the nasty and being 100% unapologetic about it. I could maybe split these between 2 categories, evocative and downright problematique filth - y por que no los dos??? Naturally, everything’s (very) Explicit here. Bon Appétit my horniessss

Has the Touch by professorfangirl (Bond/Q, 007, 2k) - the sexiest, most intimate and organic smut I’ve ever read, #writing goals

Bond is good with his hands.

Slip Free of My Grasp by @lqtraintracks (Harry/Sirius, HP, 3.5k) - 1st person pov goals, sinful and redeeming at once. This Sirius holds my heart

I don't want to be bad for him. I want to do bad things and still be, somehow, inexplicably, good.

Sardines by @shiftylinguini (Scorbus + Jeddy, HP, 4k) - a masterpiece with impeccable atmosphere, no one has ever made borderline incest feel so light & playful

It’s bad enough his cock is hard from listening to the impromptu midnight pornography of his brother getting off; Albus is not going to add seeing it to the list of reasons why he lost his mind, and presumably his eyesight, on the eve of his grandmother's seventieth.

Tremolo by Lilsoshie, marose (Tony/Peter, MCU, 4.3k) - stream of consciousness smut with insatiable Tony and exhausted af Peter

“You’re gonna ride me,” Tony decides, easing his fingers free and cherishing the unhappy whine the move inspires. “Up, come on.”

The Lies We Live With by @bixgirl1 (Jeddy, HP, 5k) - peak angsty smut, just the tip has never hurt this much :(

It doesn’t really count… is almost always followed by a lie, James learns, growing up.

Honeyboy by dollylux (Wincest, Supernatural, 6k) - filthy underage semi-public incest, see y’all in hell 🤠

While John's running an errand in the backwoods in Louisiana, Sam finds a way to keep Dean occupied. (Sex kitten!Sammy and trying-so-hard-to-be-good-in-public-and-failing!Dean.)

Ravishing by Miss_Lv (Newt/Percival, Fantastic Beasts, 7.6k) - give me dead dove like this or give me nothing!!!

Theseus holds a dinner party at his home and once Newt plays his part, he escapes, unaware he has an admirer following him.

Toeing the Line by @shiftylinguini (Tedrarry, HP, 8k) - nothing gets me more into Harry/Teddy than watching Harry watch Draco fuck Teddy. Filthy & sweet but really, this is here for the brilliant title plus daddy kink

Draco wasn’t sure why watching his partner fuck Teddy until he screamed was somehow less morally iffy for Harry than just doing it himself, but Draco wasn’t about to judge. Not when he was balls deep, anyway.

Only As Directed by rageprufrock (Hartwin, Kingsman, 12k) - possessive love is knowing how to share :)

“Arthur is a bad man,” Roxy had said. “Fucking tell me about it,” Eggsy had muttered, and gone to put on the tarty trousers Harry had picked out for him like a fucking high-end pimp.

Burned Silk, Buckled Leather by @ruinsplume (Sirius/Draco, HP, 12k) - stunning catharsis smut, liberating and full of kink positivity

When Sirius discovers a down-and-out Draco Malfoy lurking around the edges of a Muggle kink club, he thinks he knows just what Draco needs. He isn't expecting to run into some long-buried needs of his own.

Euphoria by birdsofshore (Scorbus + Dralbus, HP, 22k) - my go-to wank material, dilf Draco can step on my face anytime

A fire is prickling in the pit of my belly. I feel a little like I'm watching this happening to someone else. Al's sitting there, reeking of another man's sweat and come. He looks miserable and anxious... but also well-fucked. I look at his mussed hair, his bitten lips. I've never wanted him more.

From Thy Bounty by feyrelay, natureboy (Tony/Peter, MCU, 32k) - masterclass in both building and resolving sexual tension

Tony’s eyes are always dark, but now there's almost no iris left. He looks hollowed out. There’s something terribly hungry there, despite the feast they've filled themselves on.

Sötnos by Miss_Lv (Newt/Percival, Fantastic Beasts, 37k) - exquisite world building, blows my mind every time

Newt was expelled from Hogwarts but his parents managed to get him into another school, Durmstrang. There, Newt is taken under wing by the kind Professor Graves, who teaches him everything he needs to know about making new friends.

Heart Toward the Highway by Edwardina (Jo Harvelle/John Winchester, Supernatural, 43k) - the only F/M story you’ll ever need to read, I promise

Jo, fresh out of high school, has left home and wound up on the road with John, trying to learn the ropes from someone who isn't exactly sharing and caring. John, distant and impatient, isn't really a partner, friend, or role model -- which means that Jo's gotta get all stupid and hot for him. Their stoic apprenticeship starts to unravel as Jo starts to run out of clothes and John can't ignore her anymore.

Breezeblocks by hellhoundsprey (Supernatural RPF, 59k) - I have no idea how I found this, I don’t even read RPF. if you’re into cuckolding + humiliation: it doesn’t get any better than this

After months of doubts and suspicions, Jake ends up catching his husband red-handed when he comes home early one Friday afternoon. A/B/O

#smut reclist #multi-fandom pwp #aka liv’s wank bank #check the tags lovelies!!!!

[mischiefmanaged71]

In this moment (3/?)

Summary: A single moment can spark a magnificent change in a person’s life.

A/N: Peaky Blinders AU, Ewan Mitchell OC x fem!reader

To say Y/N felt tense at the prospect of someone staying in her flat would be an underestimation. She felt on edge at the prospect of Will, the handsome bodyguard that had her acting in an absurd manner moving into her flat.

Will would join her tonight and then her downfall would begin. She suddenly became aware of his presence behind every corner. His steps wandering around his bedroom. The scent of coffee and smoke, although he always minded to open the window when he did. He was neat, keeping most of his clothes in his room, save for a jacket thrown over the chair or his coat the doorway which reminded her of the man staying in her space. Will also enjoyed tinkering, always fiddling with something in his hand, whether it be his watch or the switch-blade he kept hidden beneath his waistband.

One afternoon she had wandered over to his room, a clean towel in hand when she noticed his door ajar. Her mouth fell agape, eyes widening at the sight of a shirtless back that she almost dropped everything in her grip. She thought her heart would burst from her chest, glossing over the state unbeknownst to Will until he turned around and caught her gaze through the door.

Y/N quickly closed her mouth, regaining her composure as she, "I-I wanted to ask if you needed anything?"

"I'm alright.” he assured her.

"Right." She nodded, averting her eyes from his chest.

Will caught the flush of her cheeks as she avoided his stare and made her exit. He wandered into the doorway, leaning against the wall with a smile tugging at his lips at her flustered state.

That moment was the first of many encounters that reminded her of why she attested Tommy and Arthur's authority.

***

The crackle of the radio sounded in the background, lulling the many thoughts of work from Y/N’s mind as she waited for the coffee to brew on the stove. The early hours of the morning were quiet as she moved around the flat. With the addition of Will, however, there had been a change of pace in the flat. 

The place was subtly different in a way with the addition of his presence in different rooms. The coat on the hanger in the doorway, the scent of his remaining cologne on the sofa cushions, along with the ash tray by the window where he regularly sat in his thoughts. 

She poured a cup of coffee for him. Black, of course, leaving it on the bench top. Every morning he would accept it with a grateful smile, ever subtle, each time. No matter, the gentle look always managed to stir something in her stomach as she distracted herself.

Y/N reached for the mug on the top shelf, leaning onto the tops of her toes when an arm brushed her’s, grasping the mug. She gasped lightly, glancing at Will’s body brushing against her own, his hand offering it up. 

“Thank you.”

“No problem.”

She could feel his eyes on her as she worked, pouring the hot liquid into the mugs. When she turned, her mouth open and closed as their eyes met. The breath trapped in her throat at the proximity of their faces as she exhaled. The intensity of the stare gracing her face was what halted her movement as she froze.

He broke the silence first, sipping from the mug without breaking contact “Have you always lived here?”

She blinked, “No. I grew up in a flat near the Shelby’s original residence. Moved here when I could afford it. I suppose with your job, you’re always moving around?”

Will nodded, “I go where the work takes me.”

“How long do you stay in one place?”

“Depends on the contract. Some last a few weeks, months. Longest job was eight months.”

She sent him a sympathetic look, “That must be difficult. Never staying in one place too long.”

“Well, let’s hope this one sticks. I have a good feeling.” he surmised, the slight upturn of his lips.

She mustered a response, “No complaints, so far. I suppose that’s good for you.” somewhat unsure where the teasing remark came from.

“My last job wasn’t entirely as nice as this.” he said.

“In what way?”

“Well, for one thing...” he placed the mug down, leaning against the benchtop, “My previous clients weren’t nearly as...charming.”

She refused to let him see her flustered state, hiding the smile behind her mug, “Oh.”

A soft chuckle left his mouth, “Do you always get this flustered?”

Oh.

“What?” she softly asked, eyes widened. 

“Just asking.” he breathed. She traced his muscles as he folded his arms across his chest. "Your hands are shaking."

She placed them still at her side. “I’m not sure what you mean.”

He didn’t need to step any closer to notice the tells. The wavering gaze, the dilated pupils. The pause each time his hand brushed her own, or he stood close enough to register the sharp intake of breath. 

“Why won’t you look at me?” his stepped closer, leaving a gap between them.

She huffed, shaking her head slightly in defiance, “I-what does that have to do with anything?”

“You’re standing...close.” she exhaled, meeting his gaze in a show of correcting his statement. Although, she wasn’t too sure if that worked in her favour as Y/N found herself absorbed in his blue eyes again. 

His eyes flickered to her lips and back. She felt her breath hitch at his hand ghosting over her’s. Will was reading her reaction tentatively, studying her. 

“What’re you doing?” she whispered.

He hummed, “Just seeing something.”

Her lips parted, breath becoming difficult to grasp with his close proximity as her eyelids fluttered. Will tilted his head, his fingers brushing her arm as he blinked, nodding ever so slightly.

“Right.” Will raised his eyebrows. He would play into her wishes, wavering the notion for now, “We best be going.”

She exhaled as he left the kitchen counter, leaving to grab his coat. Her eyes fell shut as she exhaled deeply. Her hands shook as she gripped her bag. It was only a matter of how far her limits could be tested before something actually happened.

***

“I fear I may drop from a heart attack tomorrow.” she spoke into the phone, gripping the receiver in hand as she laid on her bed. 

“You just need to breathe. These feelings, whatever they are, will simmer. It’ll pass.”

“You don’t understand, Ada. I’m stumbling through sentences. My hands shake. I fear my heart will...burst out of my chest. I didn’t think someone could actually be so beautiful...and when he looks at me. His eyes are so blue.” she sighed in a breath.

Ada hummed,��“Seems to me things are moving fast.”

The woman groaned, dropping onto the pillow again “What am I gonna do? I can’t breathe around the man.”

“How bad is it, really? You’re spending an awful lot of time with an attractive man devoted to protect you. Where is the issue?” she asked, 

Y/N bit her lip, “He’s always got this knowing look and that smirk-” she paused, a sigh leaving her mouth “I’m terrible at hiding my emotions, Ada. I don’t know...”

“You could talk to Tommy or Arthur about it.”

Y/N’s eyes widened, “No. That would make things exponentially worse. Besides-he’s good at his job. I wouldn’t want to get him fired.”

“Do go on.” Ada drawled.

“He’s...” she trailed off, eyes wandering the ceiling, “attentive...kind. He always seems to anticipate what I need. And he does make me feel safe.”

Silence rang on both sides as Y/N breathed, the words ringing through her mind.

“Sounds to me that you’ve got no problem there. What is the worst that could happen?”

“Yeah, you’re probably right.” she replied, pushing her hair back, “I’ll talk to you soon. Give my love to Karl.”

“Love you, Y/N.”

She hung up the receiver, sighing as she closed her eyes. Y/N moved off the bed, wandering to her door to the kitchen. To her surprise, Will wandered from his door at the same time. She scanned the fitted white shirt he wore, along with the casual trousers as it was the later hours of evening settled. She froze in the doorway, meeting his gaze and the smirk that laid there as he stepped toward her. 

“Hi,” she breathed.

“Hi.” he smiled, leaning against the doorway “Who was that?”

“Oh-it was Ada. Just catchin’ up.”

He nodded, “Right. How is she?”

“Good.” she averted her eyes, nodding, “Yeah. Busy with Karl and work.”

“Nothing else?” he asked.

“No. Not really.” she moved to step around when his arm leaned against the doorway, halting her movement.

Will's lips were pursed as he studied her face, "You sure about that?"

"Yes." She breathed.

His warm breath brushed her cheek. He hummed, “The walls are actually thinner than you think.”

TAGS

Y/N felt her face grow warm as her stomach dropped at the comment. She froze up, meeting his gaze and words escaped her entirely. He simply smirked at her before departing downstairs, leaving her with many thoughts of what could’ve been as she retreated to her room. Her head banged against the door tirelessly.

"Fuckin' hell."

@pearlstiare @dothrckis @aemonds-sapphire @xcharlottemikaelsonx @filipinamultifandom ​ @padfooteyes @batsyforyou @yentroucnagol @cl-0-vr @viviartsy @h3k3t @arcana-greenleaf  @yummycastiel @lauraneedstochill @sasikanleesworld @theliterarybeldam @actualhawkesworld @ohitsthemaster

#tom bennett #ewan mitchell #aemond x reader #tom bennett x reader #peaky blinders x reader

[immajustvibehere]

Cold

Pairing: Arthur Morgan x fem!Reader

Summary: On your escape through the snowstorm after the Blackwater Massacre, Arthur and you are looking for a place to get some sleep.

It might be a bit rushed but I see like one new ArthurxReader fanfic a week on Tumblr and I know y'all are famished so I'll just throw this dry breadcrust out there :,)

1400 words, 10 minutes reading time

Your legs were incredibly sore. It helped that the wagon in front of you blocked most of the wind and created a path in the snow in which you could walk somewhat safely, but it was tiring, nevertheless. Your body was frozen rigid. Every step hurt, though you could barely feel your toes anymore. Sometimes you tried to wiggle them around in your boot, just to see if you still have control over them. This turned out quite tricky and painful. Your scarf was wrapped around your face, only leaving a small slit for your eyes. The wagon in front of you was filled to the brim. So was every other waggon. They were either loaded with crates or people, some of them more dead than alive. As far as you knew, the only wagon where you could squeeze in was the one that held Jenny's body,…and you couldn't do that. You had lied and told everyone that you preferred walking, since it would warm you up

...well, that wasn't going as planned.

It was night, most people were asleep. You knew that Javier, John and Arthur were on their horses, scouting ahead or keeping watch behind, in case anyone was following. But who would follow you into a god damn snowstorm?

"Y/N!", Arthur must have called your name three times before you finally snapped out of your trance-like walking and looked up to the man mounted on Charles' horse.

"Yer crazy, why're yer walking? You should get some rest", he rode closer to you so he didn't have to yell above the wind.

"I'm afraid I'll freeze to death if I sit down and fall to sleep", you pushed your scarf off your mouth so Arthur would hear you better. The cold air that hit the lower part of your face made your teeth clatter.

"If ya keep on walking, you'll just fall over at one point and we'll keep ya behind. Come on!", he stretched his hand towards you, inviting you onto the horse. You took it, grateful to get some rest. Arthur lifted you like you were a sack of feathers, you however wailed under the painful stretch in your arms that you hadn't significantly moved for the last couple of hours. You might have even forgotten you had a pair of arms.

"We gonna find a place to rest. I haven't slept in two days, I need some sleep too", Arthur explained.

"You can rest in the wagon with Jenny. They have some space left", you suggested.

"What? Why aren't ya in there then?"

You mumbled a "Don't want to" under your breath which he couldn't have possibly heard. So he simply accepted the silence and made Taima trot faster. It felt nice to relax your legs, they started to tingle as if feeling came back to them. Maybe, you shouldn't have walked through snow for four hours straight.

"Charles!", Arthur yelled to the man steering the wagon, "still some space in there?"

Charles craned his neck, looking behind him into the dark caravan, "Enough for one and a half person."

"That's all we need, thank you. I'll leave Taima with you", Arthur said as he gave you a sign to dismount. Your knees buckled under your weight. You properly felt the ache now. Some rest and maybe a hot coffee is what you craved. The snowflakes were also becoming thicker and more with every minute, so you loved the idea of something like a roof over your head, even if it was just a canvas.

Arthur was right behind you, leading you to the back of the wagon. Three people were sleeping in there, but you couldn't tell who, as they were wrapped in blankets and had clothes pulled over their heads. Arthur was the first one to climb inside, careful not to step on anyone or wake them.

"Here", he whispered, reaching out to you once more. The two of you squeezed between some crates to find a small spot between all those boxes and the front seat. A canvas protected you from snow or direct wind. Behind it, Charles was steering the horses. Charles had been exaggerating when he said that one and a half person would fit there.

"Okay...", Arthur huffed when he saw how short of space you were. Then he grabbed a blanket off a crate and sunk to the ground. "We even got one blanket!"

Now you heard the exhaustion in his voice too. You were still baffled about the tight space and wondering if you two could comfortably sleep there, but Arthur was one step ahead, sitting down and taking in almost the entire space immediately. As he unfolded the blanket, readying it to wrap it around him, he suddenly looked up to you.

"Yer fine with that?"

"It's gonna be a squeeze...", you smiled helplessly.

"Sure", Arthur shrugged, acknowledging for a second that you would be lying pretty much on top of him, if you decided you to join him. "I-...I mean I could go to the other wagon if-"

"No, no!", you quickly interrupted him. He looked so tired and had already settled in, it shattered your heart that he even considered getting up again for you. Besides, your weren’t exactly opposed to the idea of cuddling with Arthur.

"If you don't mind that we're gonna....cuddle...", you smiled innocently. You noticed the cowboy blushing and babbling something you didn't quite understand, but then he simply lifted the blanket and waited for you to join him. You had to sit down sideways, your one side turned towards Arthur, your head finding a place to rest against his shoulder. You had to snuggle up to the man, there simply wasn’t another option. Arthur, as if it were nothing, snaked one arm around you, securing the blanket so it wouldn't slip off your body.

His free hand opened his coat, searching for something in his inside pocket. With a swift motion he lifted a cigarette to his lips, lighting it with a match which he had swiped across the crates. After he took the first drag, he wanted to hand you the cigarette.

"I don't usually smoke...", you considered.

"Sure. But it'll warm you up", Arthur suggested.

So you took the cigarette to pull on it. You had tried it before once or twice, it never was your thing, really. But you couldn't deny that the burning sensation in your airway could be considered 'warming you up'. Arthur chuckled warmly when you coughed and watched in awe as you dared a second drag. It made you cough again.

"Yer okay?", his voice was whispery now, like he had just remembered that there were people sleeping nearby. Then he took the cigarette again, finishing it himself.

Your answer consisted of a final cough and a nod, you tried to laugh it off because you enjoyed how amused Arthur was about it.

"Ya gonna get used to it", he said.

"I hope I don't have to. We won't stay in the cold for long, right?", you asked.

"I’m not sure ‘bout that, darlin’", Arthur sighed, stubbing the cigarette out on the crates and letting it drop. The pet name made your heartrate pick up for a second. Arthur had mumbled those words so sweetly; you hadn’t thought this big man capable of even the lousiest attempt to comfort you with words. But you acknowledged that he was probably tired too, muttering senseless stuff for the sole reason to say something.

After a while of silence, Arthur remarked: "Yer still shakin'."

"Mhm", even though you were still freezing, you felt the exhaustion overpowering you.

"Get'cha hand in there", he offered whisperingly, holding his coat flap open. You hesitated but were too tired to object or refuse his offer out of courtesy. Arthur's body warmth immediately seeped through your cold hand and arm. It sent a pleasurable shiver through your body - a shiver that suggested you were warming up. Arthur immediately picked up on the hint that the warmth was doing something to you, so he opened his coat a bit more. Carefully, as if you were fragile and already asleep he pushed your head more onto his chest, off the cold and wet coat and onto the shirt he was wearing underneath. Your cheek almost felt like it was burning when it touched the warm fabric. It was warm - no hot - with his body heat. It smelled like sweat and firewood, but in the best possible way. Neither of you knew who fell asleep first. When Charles peaked through the canvas to ask if you two had made the small space work, he found both of you sleeping, you half on top of Arthur.

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