#I'm watching everything in Dutch of course

[wileys-russo]

Could you write something for Alessia where reader is her sister and gets her first england call up. I feel like less would be such a good older sister, slightly protective and over bearing but also just making sure reader is fitting in and has no trouble.

the call up II a.russo x sister!reader

the call up II a.russo x sister!reader

you'd been sat with a few of your club team mates watching a movie together at beths house when you'd gotten the call, shock written all over your face as you glanced down and saw the contact name.

"go! answer it." beth whispered with an encouraging nod as you hurried to your feet and raced out of the living room, hyper aware of the eyes watching as you did so.

accepting sarina's call the dutch woman got straight to the point. you'd seen her in the crowd at a few of the home games you'd started in, and sure enough she advised she'd been impressed with what she'd seen, offering you a spot at the next camp with the senior team.

she was honest in the chances of you getting minutes in the game against scotland were slim, but the opportunity to train with the senior team and absorb and learn was there and waiting as you eagerly accepted, sarina advising she would see you at camp before ending the call.

your first call was to your parents who were over the moon, promising they'd keep it quiet until the squad for camp was officially announced, though within a few seconds your phone lit up with a flurry of notifications as the news was put into the family group chat making you roll your eyes with a fond smile.

you stood to return back to your team mates but your phone lit up with another call, your sisters name and contact photo she despised flashing across the screen making you snicker with amusement at the unflattering 0.5 angle of her with bed hair and a scowl in high definition.

"hi less." you greeted with a chuckle. "you still haven't changed my contact photo have you?" the blonde sighed knowingly as you laughed properly looking at it again.

"of course not, and i won't be anytime soon unless i take an uglier photo." you teased as she mocked you under your breath. "you're such a little shit. but anyway, why the hell did i have to find out about your call up from luca?" alessia scoffed accusingly and you didn't need to be on facetime to imagine the stern frown which would be plastered across her features.

"because no one in this family knows how to keep anything to themselves, you especially." you rolled your eyes, sending a smile and a thumbs up to beth who poked her head in to check on you, the older girl sending you a warm smile back and retreating to the living room.

"i should have been your first call, i'm your only sister and i'll be at camp too. your first call up to the senior squad is a huge deal!" alessia lectured before dropping tone and congratulating you, the two of you having imagined for years what it would be like if you ever made the senior team together.

you were disappointed not to make the world cup roster but having the extra time to focus on football with your club had benefited you immensely in other ways, and you just needed to consistently remind yourself that everything happened for a reason.

you'd started off your professional career with a short term contract at bristol city, and after a year of starting and a semi successful season you were offered a three year contract with manchester united which had always been your goal.

alessia had already known of the offer before you did of course, ella and mary having to practically hold her down to stop her calling to pressure you into accepting the moment she found out.

but none the less it was an offer too good to decline for any club, let alone your childhood dreams of one day playing for united coming true and to get the opportunity to play alongside and see alessia every day.

the two of you fought tooth and nail growing up as sisters did and always over the most ridiculous of things.

but regardless of that and the near five year age gap you were always close, your relationship only strengthening once alessia went away to college and you weren't living on top of one another anymore.

you'd only played a single season with united, most of it spent on the bench or as an impact sub, but you loved the girls and found yourself falling hard for manchesters charm.

which is why the loan had been quite the shock, no real warning given when the club accepted an offer from spurs on your behalf, both you and grace traded with the hopes of gaining proper game time and starting minutes under your belts.

alessia had kicked off the moment it went public, first at you for not telling her and then at everyone else who would listen to her frustrations which you knew mostly stemmed from a worry of how you would go moving to a different place and a different team all on your own.

only, you weren't alone. with grace by your side you adjusted easily into this new challenge in your life, you and the midfielder growing even closer than you were when you were at united, and now you both found no trouble calling each other a best friend, attached at the hip and practically inseparable.

"-i'll come and pick you up friday for dinner for mums birthday. i love you!" alessia confirmed, clearing pausing waiting for you to say it back. "don't you dare hang up and not say it back you little shit." your sister scoffed as you grinned, forever finding it all too easy to get under her skin.

"love you lessi, see you friday!" with that you hung up, hearing the girls in the other room start to argue over what to order for dinner as you took a moment to let it all sink in.

you'd finally done it.

~

"you've got your kits yeah? and the tracksuits, and the training ones, and your socks, and your cleats, and you need to be careful you're not wearing anything that isn't adidas branded if you're being filmed or there's pictures taken by the social media team-" your sister lectured over the phone as you rolled your eyes and flicked her to speaker.

"-then you'll get the schedule when you arrive but i'll show you where everything is anyway. if we're not roomed near each other i'll still come and find you every morning and we can have breakfast before training and i'll run you through the daily schedules-" you started to tune her out as you flicked through your closet, humming every now and then to appease her.

"-are you even listening to me?" you only hummed again, completely checked out of the conversation now as you wrestled to get your suitcase closed. "oh my god you've got me on speaker and you've left the room again like last time. OI!" you winced and zoned back in as she shouted loudly.

"no! i'm right here idiot. but i know you love the sound of your own voice so who was i to interrupt?" you chuckled, grunting as you sat on top of your case and finally got it closed.

“ha ha ha, very funny. what the hell are you doing anyway? why are you grunting and groaning are you working out right now?” your sister questioned. “no! im trying to close my case, which i now have!” you sighed victoriously zipping it up.

“you haven’t finished packing?” alessia shouted as you rolled your eyes. “less.” you warned, muting her momentarily as she ignored you and started to rant and rave about how you needed to step up and be an adult.

returning a few moments later you unmuted her, catching her mid story of something you really weren’t all that interested in.

“oh no less you’re breaking up I can’t hear you!” you spoke in a monotone, voice dripping with sarcasm as you scrunched a piece of paper and made glitchy noises with your mouth.

“seriously? you can’t even just say you don’t want to talk anymore? you have to make up some bullshit excuse and-“ her words fell short as you clicked the red end call button with a chuckle, tossing the ball of paper over your shoulder.

you watched the texts fly in from her, unhappy with your attitude and warning you needed to be mature on camp which you silenced with a roll of your eyes, interrupted by your security buzzer going.

“sorry don’t want any.” you grinned as grace’s head appeared in the security camera, the girl pulling a face and flipping you off as you buzzed her in. “cars here! im not comin up, you’re comin down. hurry!” the brunette warned as your eyes widened and you rushed about making sure you had everything.

you jolted in surprise as a knock sounded on your door, flinging it open and frowning when grace stood there with a grin. “aih ya dickhead the car isn’t here yet it’s not even ten, too easy!” your best friend laughed pushing past you as she dumped her own bags by the door.

“you are such a wind up.”

~

“you nervous?” you asked grace, tapping her knee to gain her attention as the car turned into st georges park and she pulled her headphones down around her neck.

“nah not really. you shouldn’t be either! we wouldn’t have been called up if they didn’t think we wasn’t ready, and your sister is here anyway to look after ya.” grace reminded with a smile, pushing your head with a wink as the two of you rough housed for a bit before the car parked up.

“cameras rollin. how’d i look then?” grace fluttered her eyelashes making you grin. “ugly as ever. come on hillary!” you slid out of the car before she could retaliate, groaning at the nickname.

you knew from the way your phone had been blowing up that your sister was already here, having arrived earlier this morning with lotte and beth.

so it wasn’t any real surprise when you’d hardly stepped a foot out of the car and she appeared, hovering at the top of the stairs with ella plastered to her side who sent you and grace a grin and a wave.

both of you grabbing your bags you flashed a smile and fist bumped the media staff who were filming entrances as you and grace ascended the stairs.

“ready for your first camp girls?” you and grace both echoed back a yes, grinning at the camera before someone wiggled their way in between you both and slung their arms over your shoulders.

"big sister gonna look out for you then?" the staff laughed as alessia beamed and squeezed both you and grace tightly. "well she's got big shoes to follow, we've been working on her backheel." alessia joked, the camera crew moving toward the next van which pulled up which was full of the city girls.

"less get off." you huffed, grace wiggling away and tackling ella in a hug, the taller of the two dragging them inside in a headlock as your sister only gripped you tighter.

"absolutely not, roomie." the older girl grinned smugly as your face fell. "oh you've gotta be kidding me!" you groaned throwing your head back in annoyance.

"she's messin with you, we don't share rooms anymore on camp." a new voice sounded behind you as you managed to throw off alessia's arm and charge toward them. "mazza!" you cheered happily, launching at her as she caught you with a grunt.

"baby russo!" the girl cheered in the same tone before dropping you back to your feet. "just my actual name is fine thank you." you shoved her playfully with a roll of your eyes. "not this camp or any camp after, that is your name now. or we could go with B.R for short?" mary teased tugging on your ears.

"i'm quite fond of her childhood nickname." alessia chimed in with a smirk as you sent her a murderous glare. "don't you dare, or i'll spill one of your secrets. and we both know that i have plenty of them to choose from!" you smirked back as her face fell.

"rat." alessia muttered, nodding for you to follow her as she grabbed your bags and headed for the elevator to show you to your room.

"we'll talk later. you spill some of those secrets and theres more where this came from kid." mary whispered, sliding a tenner into your pocket with a pat and a wink.

~

you were mid dream when you first heard it, the repeated thudding which seemed to leak into your subconscious as suddenly you realized you weren't dreaming anymore and someone was knocking furiously on your door.

raising your head from your pillow you blinked groggily and rubbed your eyes so hard you saw stars, stumbling out of bed and tripping over the corner of the duvet where your foot got stuck in bed.

hitting the ground with a thud and a grunt the knocking stopped for a moment and you paused, unsure if you'd imagined it.

"for god sakes hurry up!" nope, didn't imagine it.

"what?" you retorted grumpily, mornings your least favourite time of day as you rubbed your face and your sister barreled in past you without so much as a greeting.

"go away alessia its too early!" you groaned, shutting the door and trudging back toward your bed. "you haven't even hung anything up? for god sakes this is a hotel this isn't your bedroom at home you can't just fling shit around and leave your mess everywhere like a tornado!" your sister lectured with a click of her tongue, busying herself picking things up and putting them away.

"i've not even been here for twenty four hours yet less surely that stick up your ass is gonna sting something terrible by the end of the week?" you grumbled, sliding back into bed as your sister shot you a filthy look at her shoulder.

"hilarious. but you have to be professional here and set a good reputation for yourself, especially your first camp. that means up on time, early for breakfast, one of the first to the pitch, extra reps in the gym-" you tuned her out, quite the expert at it by now, eyes slipping closed again.

"urgh get off!" you moaned as a weight settled on top of you, wheezing slightly as alessia made herself comfortable sitting on your back. "you have...forty six seconds to get up yourself before i drag you out of this bed by your ankles and we both know i will!" your sister threatened seriously, checking her watch.

"you're so fucking annoying. this is worse than when we both lived at home, at least then you also used to hate mornings!" you exhaled deeply, star fishing out on the bed as she wriggled and purposefully bore more of her taller form into you.

"twenty nine, twenty eight, twenty seven..." the blonde counted down ignoring your statements. "can hardly get up myself with you on top of me can i bigfoot?" you snapped, alessia rolling off of you and squealing as your leg kicked out to push her off the bed.

"right! three, two, one." and with that she flung the covers off, grabbing your ankles and true to her word yanking you out of bed, your body hitting the carpeted floor with a thump as she loomed over you.

"get dressed. if theres no pancakes when we get to breakfast i will be holding you personally responsible and you will pay for it!" your older sister warned, grabbing your top in hand and hauling you up to your feet, shoving a pile of clothes into your hand and pushing you toward the bathroom.

"stop manhandling me hagrid!" you snapped as alessia chose to ignore you, making your bed up and getting herself comfortable on top of it, scrolling through her phone as you snatched yours from the nightstand.

"hurry up!" you were trying to brush your hair back into something more presentable, face still puffy from your half asleep state as her fist thumped loudly against the door.

with a roll of your eyes you gave up, flipping your head and tying your hair up into a messy bun. poking at the bags under your eyes with a sigh, the impatient knocking continuing as you quickly covered them up with a few dabs of concealer.

"i hope you break your hand." you spoke in a monotone as you flung the door open, barely having ten seconds to step outside before her hands grabbed the collar of your jumper and dragged you out of the room.

"let go less! i'm not four years old trying to run away in a shopping centre for god sakes i don't need you to hold my hand i am an adult." you huffed, ripping your hand away from hers and storming off ahead to the elevator as alessia hung back for a second to wait for ella to catch up.

"might need this though? and everyone says you're the genius in the family." alessia held up your key card which was the only thing that allowed you to enter and exit the elevator, holding it out of your reach.

"say sorry for being so grumpy." alessia demanded with a smug smile as you tried to stretch for the card without luck, your sister always having had a head or two of height on you with her ridiculously long limbs.

"no! didn't you make a big song and dance about not being late for breakfast? because the only one making us late is you!" the older girl groaned as you punched her half heartedly in the stomach, snatching the key as she doubled over.

"mary she's tryna kill me!" you hid behind the taller keeper using her body as a shield as she joined you with grace in tow, alessia sending you daggers from across the elevator as mary chuckled but remained a nice protective barrier between the two of you anyway.

"alessia!" you protested as your sister snatched your plate, dumping what you'd already chosen and picking your food for you, pushing you away every few seconds with her spare hand as you tried to intervene.

"why are you such a mum? i can pick my own food!" you demanded which was dismissed with a flick of her hand, too busy chattering away to ella to pay you and your whinging any attention.

"you have to fuel your body properly and that means a balanced breakfast." the blonde lectured, holding your plate hostage in her hands as she walked off.

with your food held captive you were forced you to follow her as you sent grace a pleading look who only smirked and shook her head, sat at a different table than the one your sister sat down at.

"baby russo! where have you been hiding then? i missed you." lucy pulled you into a hug as you took your seat beside her and across from alessia who finally slid your plate over to you. "hiding from her!" you grumbled, stabbing your eggs and shooting alessia a glare who smiled and wiggled her fingers at you in a sarcastic wave.

you sighed and glanced down at your plate which granted was loaded, but not with everything you'd have put on it thanks to your sisters apparent new nutritionist qualifications.

your face lit up as mary joined the table, subtly dumping two hashbrowns and an extra piece of bacon onto your plate with a wink as she sat on your other side squishing you between her and lucy as the three of you fell into conversation.

"oi baby russo, sarina wants to see ya." you'd finished eating as millie suddenly appeared, nodding for you to follow her as your face paled a little, head swirling with a hundred worries of why she might want to see you, all of them negative.

"i can take her mills." your sister stepped in with a reassuring smile as millie headed off to grab breakfast. "come on." she stood with a flick of her head as mary squeezed your shoulder and stacked your empty plate on top of hers.

following after your sister you didn't speak a single word, holding your breath until you stepped out of the cafeteria and the noise and chatter of the team ceased, exhaling shakily.

"come here." your sister spoke softly and opened her arms as you settled into them, your own wrapping around her torso as she embraced you, chin resting on the top of your head.

"i know all you can think of is bad reasons why she wants to see you, but if you freak out and focus on all of the what ifs then you're going to ruin this opportunity for yourself before we even start." alessia murmured, rubbing your back comfortingly.

"she probably just wants to check how you're settling in and go through the motions with you. so stop overthinking because i can hear your tiny little brain going into a meltdown." she teased lightly as you cracked a smile.

she let you go but her arm slipped over your shoulder drawing you into her side as she walked you down to the office, pausing a couple doors down and turning you to face her.

"i love you, sarina loves you, the girls loves you. this is your moment, grab it with two hands and make the most of it yeah? show them why you got called up and why you've earned a place on this team." her hands settled on your shoulders as if trying to charge you up with confidence as you nodded.

she might be overbearing, overprotective and over dramatic at the best of times. but alessia would always be your big sister and secretly, you'd never tell her this, without her you wouldn't be half the human let alone the footballer you were, and it flooded you with relief to take the plunge into this next step of your career with her by your side.

again you didn't dare to tell her that for fear of the relentless teasing that would follow. but you didn't need to anyway, she already knew, because sisters always know.

#woso #woso x reader #woso fanfics #woso community #alessia russo x reader #engwnt #woso blurbs #woso imagine #alessia russo

[i9messi]

Dating Max Verstappen

Specific things I think Max would do as your boyfriend

max’s masterlist

Max was a little shy at first, but he became so much more extrovert when you spoke to him casually

At the beginning, he stalked you once or twice on social media. Not in a creepy way, just because you had caught his eye and he wanted to ask you out

He may seem a little cocky at first, but everything changed when you met him and realized how he actually was

Max is a beautiful person and you enjoyed spending time with him

Max is someone who gives you 100% of his attention, hears you talk about what you are most passionate about and asks you questions about it. He is a very attentive person and makes you feel comfortable

Less than you both thought, you started to date

He treats you like a queen. If you want something, he’ll do his best to get it for you as quickly as he can, there are no no no’s when referring to you

Max is quite disciplined and organizes everything with the smallest detail, including dates and holidays

When something does not go as he wants he tends to get frustrated, but you tell him that you love that he had spent time to organize something

You don’t need everything to be perfect, because even though things don’t go as your boyfriend has planned them, everything is already perfect

He learns as much as possible about your tastes. You have a specific favourite music artist? He’s gonna play that artist’s music every time you’re in the car just because he knows you’re gonna be happy with that

He loves your happiness and will do everything to make you smile

Movie nights. Max likes to watch films with you, no matter what genre or whether they are children’s films, just spending time with you is everything he needs

“If you steal the blankets, I'm going to put my cold feet on you.”

He gives you teddy bears and flowers when he has to be away from you for a few weeks

You casually steal all of his Red bull's merch

“That's my cap?”

Both adopted a pet and accepted that this is your child. You post photos of Max and your "son" all the time, because they give you so much tenderness

Max is such a boyfriend material

Fans love the couple

You are the type of girlfriend who supports him in every race and who is there to listen when things do not go as predicted

He knows you’re going to be there to support him and that’s all he needs to feel safe

You’re the one who keeps him focused, with his feet in the real world

You were so proud of him when he won the formula 1 championship in 2022

He’s an incredible driver, even though many have opinions formed against him

You are the same one who will be there to defend him always, from bad press and people who have prejudices against your boyfriend

Outside open doors he’s the least clumsy person you’ll ever meet but in the comfort of your home, it’s the same one who asks you for hugs and kisses when he needs it most. Max is like a little boy who needs attention

“Just a kiss, pretty please, liefde.”

You can’t say no to Max, not when he looks at you with those cute eyes and talks to you with that accent that makes you crazy

He always tells you nice things in Dutch and you have to ask him what it means, the answer makes you smile

“voor mij ben jij de wereld.” (to me, you're the world.)

Max gives you a lot of pet names in Dutch, of course

Besides being your boyfriend, he is also your best friend and confidant

You can tell him practically anything and he will be there to support you

Stressful day? You can both cook a meal and then lie down on the couch to wait for it to cook. You both just need to be hugging and talking, nothing more than that

You’re soulmates and you love each other so much

#max verstappen blurb #max verstappen fluff #max verstappen one shot #max verstappen x reader #max verstappen #max verstappen headcanons #verstappen #f1 #formula one #f1 blurb #f1 x reader #max verstappen x you

[ofstarsandvibranium]

omg please write more of the jamie x mcadoo!reader i love the protective family member dynamic!! especially with a character like isaac!🤍

Meet Cousin McAdoo

Fandom: Ted Lasso

Pairing: Jamie Tartt x F!Reader

Summary: You're visiting your cousin, Isaac, in Richmond for a few weeks. During your stay, you become familiar with the little city as well as its very own AFC Richmond football club.

A/N: I was going to do a bunch of headcanons but i suddenly got bit with the writing bug and it ended up being a full fledged fic. Whoops!

Isaac walks into the locker room with a determined look on his face. A majority of his team was already there, so he stands in front of everyone and hollers, "Oi! Listen up!" he waits until he sees that all eyes are on him, he continues, "My cousin is visiting Richmond for a few weeks. She's comin' over here so I can show her around. I want all of you," he points around the room, "to be on your best behavior. Understand?"

"What's happenin'?" asks Jamie as he walks in.

"Isaac's cousin is visiting, so be your best behavior," Sam says, catching the striker up.

Jamie grins, "Aren't I always on me best behavior?"

The guys roll their eyes as Jamie makes his way to his cubby, getting ready for practice.

Everyone's on the pitch when Higgins comes out, "Sorry, team, can I have a moment?"

"WHISTLE!" Roy yells, which causes everyone to pause.

Higgins speaks up, "Isaac, your cousin is here."

Isaac looks confused, "She's not supposed to be here until tomorrow."

"HI ISAAC!" you yell from Rebecca's office window. You're waving your arms excitedly.

"I thought you were comin' tomorrow!" He yells up at you.

"Surprise!" you're giggling, "I'll be down in a bit!"

Isaac nods and gives you a wave.

The boys are back to practice when you join Roy on the sidelines of the pitch, "Nice to meet you, Coach Kent," you don't offer a hand to him. You know, from what Isaac's told you, he isn't fond of touching people.

He nods and grunts, which you don't take personally.

Isaac, lightly jogs over to you, "Hey, cousin!" he goes to hug you but you stop him.

"Ew! Don't hug me, weirdo. You're all gross and sweaty."

"Pft," he puts out his fist and you fist bump him, "It's good to see you."

"Thanks for letting me stay with you while I'm here."

Isaac shrugs, "Of course."

"WHISTLE! WHISTLE!" Roy cries out and you look at him, bewildered, then back to Isaac, "Does he-"

"He's allergic to metal," Isaac answers swiftly.

"Interesting," you say with a nod.

"Take a five minute break!"

At Roy's words, Colin comes up to Isaac's side, "Hi! I'm Colin. Isaac's-"

"Best mate! It's so nice to meet you!" you shake his hand and the rest of the boys follow.

You meet Jan Maas, Richard, Sam, Dani, etc. etc. The meeting goes by quickly as Roy yells for everyone to get back to drills.

Isaac gives you a wave as he heads back onto the pitch. You stand on the side watching everything.

"Isaac," Dani catches his Captain's attention.

"Yeah, bruv?"

"You and your cousin do not look alike."

"We're not blood related. Her aunt married my uncle. We're cousins by marriage but still family nonetheless."

"Your cousin is very attractive," Jan Maas states in his usual Dutch bluntness.

Isaac's eyes narrow at Jan Maas and grabs his shirt by the collar, "Don't talk about my cousin like that."

Jamie joins in, "But he's right, Isaac. Your cousin's mad fit!"

Isaac pauses his drill and looks at the boys around him, "You all listen to me and listen well, none of you are worthy enough for my cousin. So stay away. Got it?" The angry and protective look on Isaac's face was enough to make the guys nod and scurry away, not wanting to be the receiving end of their captain's potential anger.

____________________

After Isaac's showered and changed, he gives you a tour of the place. His knowledge is lacking since there are certain places he hasn't been to before, but he tries his best. When he tells you the team has a therapist, you're very impressed, especially since Isaac admits to going a few times himself. You find it very admirable.

The tour then ends at the locker room after Isaac makes sure that everyone's decent.

You pout a little, "Dammit, Isaac, I wanted to see some fit naked footballers!" Isaac looks at you with disgust while some of the guys chuckle.

"You still can if you want!" Bumbercatch responds, but gulps after Isaac shoots him a look, "Just kidding."

You snort, "I was joking too, but thanks for the offer." You nudge Isaac, "Can we grab something to eat now? I'm starving."

"Yeah! Actually," he turns to Sam, "Are we good?"

"A table is already waiting for you at Ola's."

"Sweet. Thanks, bruv!" Isaac goes over to Sam and they do a typical 'bro hug'.

"It was nice meeting all of you! I'll probably see you again during my time here!" you wave at the team and they all wave back as you and Isaac exit the locker room.

All eyes are following you out. You look back and your eyes catch the blue-gray eyes of none other than Jamie Tartt. He gives you a shy smile and you give him a wink before you continue following Isaac out.

"Oi!" Colin thumps Jamie's head, "Isaac said to be on your best behavior."

"All I did was smile at her! She's the one that winked at me!" the striker explains, defending himself.

"I'm keeping an eye on you Tartt," Colin says before walking out of the locker room as well.

#jamie tartt x reader #jamie tartt imagine #jamie tartt x cousin mcadoo

[gadriezmannsgirl]

De Jong's Sister -Pedri González

This was a bit shitty

Summary: You're the younger sister of Frenkie De Jong and you're also Pedri González girlfriend... But, is your brother used to the PDA with your boyfriend?

Being Frenkie De Jong's sister has always been your favorite thing because one, he's the best brother ever; two, he loves and takes care of you like no one else and three; thanks to him you met your lover, Pedro González López mostly known as Pedri.

Frenkie had known Pedri for a long while and he knew he was a good guy and with a good heart so when Frenkie learned you started dating his friend and teammate, he was happy for both of you.

Of course, he was your older brother, there was a long and serious chat by his part to Pedri, explaining deeply that Frenkie didn't cared if he was his teammate, friend or anything. If Pedri dared to break your heart, he will pay it.

Frenkie stated he could step on his ankle while training and make it seem like it was an accident or kicking him in the face with the concept of trying to grab the ball. You thought it was unnecessary but Pedri acceded to it and stating a simple "I'll take it" You rolled your eyes at their dramatic antics but loved them either way.

Still, after three years and half of relationship, Frenkie wasn't a big fan of you touching and kissing Pedri that much while being in his presence.

Like for example, last week you were at a gathering at Lewandowski's all of you eating, having a good time in general and enjoying the two free days Xavi gave them. Pedri's arm was around your waist and you leaned into his side lightly, he was laughing at something Eric García had said as you smiled seeing him.

You couldn't help yourself but kiss his neck causing him drift his attention briefly to you

"Everything good, bonita?" You nod smiling causing him to smile back and lean lightly to kiss your lips softly and for brief seconds

"Stop eating his face" Frenkie said in Dutch as you looked at him raising one of your eyebrows

"It was just a simple kiss"

"You were sucking each others faces off"

"Fuck off!" He laughed

"Leave her be, Frenkie" Mikky, Frenkie's girlfriend said as you stuck your tongue out a bit, taking the piss of him.

"Yeah, I don't say a thing when you're sucking Mikky's face off"

"Shut up" It was your turn to laugh now. After a while got a bit better still he let his disgust known

"Congratulations!" You smiled watching both of your boys come in, into the tunel and up to their dressing room.

You hugged Frenkie first, happy for his comeback and then you went to your boyfriend throwing yourself at him, also glad for his comeback even though he wasn't in the XI starting, you were happy to have him in the second half.

You kissed his lips softly and pressed yourself against his sweaty body, happiness coming out of you

"Ok, ok. I think that's enough"

"Venga, hermano" Pedri said letting you down of the floor softly a bit annoyed to the fact, your brother didn't allowed him to touch you that much in his presence

"She's my baby sister!" Frenkie defended "Limited touching"

"C'mon, Kie; I not a little girl anymore"

"Still not used to see you as someone's girlfriend, Y/N/N"

"Well, start to because I'm not breaking up with Pedri anytime soon, he's it for me and for the longest run" With that you let both boys to get inside their dressing room

"Did I fucked it up?" Frenkie asked Pedri

"She wants you to be happy for her"

"I am, for both of you" Frenkie declared "It is weird for me to see her being all lovely and mostly with someone who is my friend and teammate"

"You know I will not hurt her"

"I know" Frenkie said "She's just my baby sister, I guess I still see her as my baby who always came crying up to me when Youri did something to her" Frenkie laughs "I'm sorry, I'll behave" Pedri nodded

"No soy yo a quien le tienes que decir eso, hermano" (It's not me the one you gotta say that, hermano) Pedri said softly as Frenkie sighed nodding

After that little encounter, you didn't spent too much time with Frenkie and Pedri together and if you did, you avoided touching so much Pedri only holding his hand and going as far as kiss his cheek but after that nothing more.

Frenkie felt a bit guilty seeing you retract yourself to show love to your lover, you had told Pedri that when he was around you were gonna put a line tmto your PDA, he wasn't happy but he accepted, and that's why when they won LaLiga, Frenkie came up to you.

You hugged your brother tightly, kissing his cheeks and repeating a congratulations to him

"Thank you, sis" You smiled at him and soon your eyes travelled to your boyfriend who was hugging his family too "Go and kiss him. Kiss him like you want to" Frenkie encouraged you as you looked at him

"Thought you didn't-"

"You are on the long run with this guy" He said softly "I gotta deal with it. You are happy with him and both of you love each other too much. I know you like showing affection and he does the same. You're not a little girl anymore" Frenkie smiled pushing you into the González's direction "Anda" You smiled and ran towards your boyfriend.

You crashed into his sweaty back as he stumbled forward a bit

"Wow!" He said turning around "Bonita, what's up?" You leaned up and kissed him deeply.

"Congratulations, mi amor"

"Bonita, Frenkie-"

"He's fine with it! I love you so much and I'm so proud of you, congratulations on your first LaLiga, lindo" Pedri smiled picking you up and turning you around

"Thanks, Bonita" He whispered kissing you once more.

This time the one who pulled you both apart was Fer who jokingly claimed his brother back but when you connected your gaze with your brother's.

He was looking at you with a smile on and them gave you a thumbs up. Yes, you loved being Frenkie De Jong's sister and Pedri's girlfriend.

°°° °°° °°° °°°

Taglist: @gaviypedrisbride @stuckinaf4nfiction @elijahslover @azzpenswrld

#M. is writing #fc barca #fc barcelona #writing #pedri gonzalez #pedri #pedri x reader #pedri icons #pedri gonzalez fluff #pedri fluff #pedri blurb #pedri one shot #pedri x you #pedri x y/n #pedri fanfic #pedri gonzalez icons #pedri gonzalez x you #pedri gonzalez x y/n #pedri smut #pedri gonzalez smut #pedri gonzalez x reader #pedri gonzalez imagine #pedri gonzalez blurb #pedri gonzalez fanfic #pedri gonzález icons #barca #barca fc

[cowboydisaster]

Daddy Dutch HCs about an F!reader who is smart yet bratty, but also inexperienced in a lot of ways and tries to hide it by being a smartass? i.e: being a virgin, never having drank herself, etc., Arthur too if you want. NSFW or SFW, or both!

Headcanons: Dutch x inexperienced reader

a/n: hello everyone I'm officially back with my first piece of content since my little hiatus!! Hope you enjoy, love y'all <3 Sfw and nsfw headcanons are separated and labeled!

Dutch is shocked when he finds out how inexperienced you are. You talk with such bravado. He was damn near sure that you had as much experience as any of the other gang members. How wrong he was.

your first drink:

The first time Dutch takes you out for drinks, and you admit you've never touched a bottle before, he's floored. "You mean to tell me that- a sight as fine as yourself, and you've never had someone buy you a drink before?" He'll chuckle, sliding a bill fold across the bar. He'll buy you your first drink with some light teasing. You meet his teasing head on, using your quick tongue to defend yourself.

He makes sure you drink responsibly. He wants you to have fun, but he doesn't want you getting hurt, sick, or arrested. Dutch will drink less that night to keep a close eye on you and ensure your safety.

He'll help you ride home, pulling your back against his chest in the saddle to aid you in safely returning to camp.

Dutch will get you comfortable in his bed, making sure to have some tonics, cold, wet towels, and water on standby for your inevitable first hangover.

your first smoke:

Again, Dutch is shocked when he finds out that you've never smoked. Immediately, he pulls a pack of cigarettes from inside his coat pocket and lights a match on his boot.

"Just like this, my dear. Watch me." He'll whisper, bringing the cigarette close to his lips, "First you want to pull the smoke into your mouth and let it sit for a moment, then inhale it down to your lungs."

Dutch takes a pull from the cigarette before exhaling it through his nostrils. Them he's passing it over to you.

You follow his instructions but still wind up coughing the smoke back up.

The next day, Dutch will buy you a pack of premium cigarettes from the store, telling you that "Practice makes perfect."

⚠️ NSFW:

Dutch catches on to your inexperience by the time you tell him you're a virgin. He's not so surprised.

He'll kiss your neck, feel the jumping nervousness under your pulsepoint while his hands search your body.

"Why don't you let me show you, my darling?" He'll ask in between kisses. "I'll make you feel incredible."

When you give him your consent, Dutch won't talk you through everything, but he will focus intently on your face and composure, making sure that you feel good and are comfortable.

He'll dirty talk. A lot. This man gets off on praising and worshipping you. Expect: "You're so beautiful.", "You're doing so well.", "Just like that.", "Does that feel good?", "Perfect."

He's poetic in bed, you find. "Nothing, in all my years, has amounted to your beauty." He'll whisper against your ear.

Again, he worships you. Especially because you're new at this, but your pleasure always comes first. He can't get enough of it. The way your face draws up when you experience bliss for the first time with him-- he's obsessed. It's almost too much, how many times he'll bring you over the edge.

He's not a big cuddler when it comes to aftercare. He's more the type to clean you up and take care of you. He'll give you a bath, clean you up, and read to you while you soak in the hot water. He'll pour you a drink and ask you how you feel; if you're okay/comfortable/have any regrets. Which you don't of course. He's a gentleman the entire time, making you feel safe and loved.

bonus: This man is obsessed with forehead kisses. He kisses your forehead when he first slides in, and every time he praises you, he's pressing his lips to your forehead with his eyes squinted shut in pleasure.

#dutch van der linde #dutch van der linde x reader #dutch van der linde headcanons #rdr2 dutch #dutch van der linde x female reader #dutch x reader #dutch van der linde x you #rdr2 fandom #red dead redemption two #red dead redemption 2 #dutch van der linde imagine #rdr2 headcanons

[red-dead-do-over246]

Hey there! Hope you’re having an amazing day! I wanted to request prompt #108 with Kieran x f!reader!

I think Kieran is treated a lot like he’s helpless but he’s been rolling with outlaws for a long time. I think he’s able to fight, he just chooses not to generally. So I want your take on how he would protect his S/o who, let’s say, is in a life or death situation. Happy ending or not! It’s up to you ❤️

Thank you~!

Hello! I hope you are having a great day as well! I completely agree with you when it comes to Kieran, so I hope you enjoy this! Sorry if it's short!💖

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Just a Simple Shopping Trip

You and Kieran go to pick up some more produce for Pearson. However, here in Lemoyne, that's easier said than done.

#108 “When you love something, you protect it.”

The only reason Kieran got to leave camp is that you were coming with. To "supervise" him per Dutch's words and everyone else's for that matter. And Kieran didn't even understand why they believed he needed to be watched by someone.

He's proved himself and doesn't plan to betray anyone.

Especially you.

Out of all the gang members, you were the one who's treated him the fairest. How could Kieran not want to be around someone so kind? Of course, he's got a soft heart when it comes to others. It was a part of his nature, to be timid and kind. At least, that's what everyone sees in the young man.

"Do you want me to drive?" Kieran asked in that nervous tone of his when you finally came over to the wagon. He was in the middle of tacking up the horses.

"Sure. I'm best to keep guard anyway." You said with a smirk as you stepped up on the wagon. Kieran's eyes followed you as he tried not to take offense to that.

Then he patted the horses and hopped up on the driver's seat before flicking the reins.

"...but they still don't trust me. I didn't need no chaperone." Kieran complained to you as you guys made your way back from Rhodes. The shopping trip went well, everything was accounted for, and you guys got things done, but now was the hard part.

Which was getting home with all your goods.

Kieran was letting some of his feelings and frustrations out while you listened. Truthfully, you were the only one who would let him do this, and you would listen without mockery or scowling. It was another reason he enjoyed being around you.

"Your feelings are validated. I'm sorry, Kieran. I wish I could make people think otherwise." You said with a sad tone, causing his heart to flutter a little.

"It's alright. I'm just glad it was you who came with me. Any of the others would've probably slit my throat and threw me in the ditch." He said, shuddering a little. You laughed a little, despite the truth to his statement, and flustered a little at his words.

"To be honest...they probably would have done the same to me when I first joined the gang." You whispered, subconsciously nudging your shoulder against his.

"What?!" He said in shock. Kieran never knew how you came to join the gang. It was something you never really brought up after you guys got closer. Now he was interested, and you guys still had a bit of a ride to get to camp. You stared ahead at the road, a faraway look in your eyes, like the topic was hard to talk about.

"Well-"

"Hello there!"

A forceful cheery voice interrupted your conversation, and you guys noticed that a group of men on horseback had come to ride beside your wagon. Kieran immediately tensed, thinking the O'Driscolls, but then recognized the Lemoyne Raiders.

Still an unfortunate situation.

"Can we help you?" Your voice was strong and Kieran tightened his grip on the reins to ready for a quick getaway. The Lemoyne Raiders started giving their whole spiel; about how this was their turf, and how you needed to pay up, and blah blah blah.

"Y/N-"

"We ain't giving you nothing!" You spat at the closest man, who growled at you.

"Get 'em!"

The sound of gunshots and frightened horses entered Kieran's senses, and he barely had control of the wagon as the commotion started. He tried his best to steer and avoid bullets as best as possible, but the horse riders flanking him made that difficult. You had your gun out, and was trying to shoot back, but Kieran's driving made that rather difficult.

Suddenly, one of the men hoped from their horse and into the back of the wagon. Panic overtook Kieran tenfold when said man grabbed you by the collar of your shirt and dragged you back. You kicked, struggled, and cursed at the raider as he put you in a choke hold.

That moment seemed to slow for Kieran.

For a moment, he didn't care about the gang's threats. He didn't care that they didn't seem to care about him. All his fear about all of it went away in that moment. Right now, all he saw was that your life was in danger if he didn't act. And it caused him to do something that he hasn't had to do in a long while.

Bang!

The man who was holding you soon slumped to the ground with a bullet wound smack-dab in the middle of his chest. Blood was seeping out of it and around your feet. Now time seemed to slow for you as you turned to look from the dead body to the man who just saved your life.

Kieran still had the revolver aimed, smoke coming out of the barrel, as a determined and fiery look came to his face.

He looked like an entirely different man.

The other raiders seemed to be stunned by this as well because they ceased shooting just long enough for you to whip out your gun and finish them off. Once the bodies dropped and the horses ran off, Kieran slowed the wagon, giving you time to crawl back over and sit next to him. Then, since the chaos made you guys run off the path, Kieran took the time driving you guys back in the right direction.

"Thank you...for saving me." You said, your voice barely audible as you looked down at your hands, which were shaking. Sure, you've been in bad situations before, but something about this encounter made you emotional.

Tears began to blur your eyes, but you noticed his hand reach over to grip yours, steadying it.

“When you love something, you protect it.” Kieran told you, his voice not wavering as his hand moved to your back, rubbing it gently as the tears flowed freely now.

"I...I don't know why...I was so scared..." Your lip quivered as you admitted yourself.

"And that's okay..." He told you, repeating what you used to say to him many times over.

The rest of the ride was a comfortable silent. Kieran was comforting you as you broke down from what just happened. You were trying to figure out why this caused a reaction out of you, and then you finally pinned it.

It was Kieran.

You sometimes forget that he was with a bunch of outlaws before this gang. He knew how to shoot, how to kill. However, he was always so gentle with you, with the horses, and generally everyone that you completely forgot what he could be capable of. Seeing that side of him just made you emotional, knowing that he would do anything for you.

It made you love him even more.

When you guys arrived at camp, eyes were on you both as you wiped away your tears. For a second, people thought that Kieran caused your tears and were ready to shoot him right then and there. However, when you guys stepped off, he moved to hug you. You hugged him back tightly, nuzzling your face into his neck as you gripped onto him for dear life. He rubbed your back and whispered sweet things to you.

Arthur came over to grab the supplies, wondering what the hell happened out there. By eavesdropping when he walked by, he heard Kieran say things like "it'll be okay", "they can't get you anymore", and "I will protect you."

The outlaw still didn't have the slightest idea what happened, but he got the insight on one thing that made him feel good.

Kieran was definitely strong enough to keep you safe.

#red dead redemption 2 #red dead redemption 2 x reader #rdr2 #kieran #kieran duffy #kieran duffy x reader #kieran x reader #rdr2 kieran #kieran duffy imagine

[lesbian-for-arthur-morgan]

Hello! Love your work!

Can you do headcanons for Hosea with a daughter? (Or child if you'd prefer gender neutrality)

She's his kid with Bessie, and I was wondering how the two would be, growing up in the gang, how he'd be as a father, how she'd be with the other members, whatever you'd like to write!

As for her age, I'm thinking young adult during the events of the game, maybe John's age too

Thank you!

Hosea with a Child

Gender Neutral language!

Genre: Fluff! Some angst - No game spoilers Featuring: Dad!Hosea, Platonic John, Platonic Arthur Warnings: Mentions of death and grief

AN: I hope you like these! I really enjoyed writing this request it was so cute and fun to think about Hosea as a dad raising a kid in the gang <3 Thank you so much

---> Requests are open! Check out my guidelines if you have any questions!

<><><><>

Childhood Years:

According to Hosea, you were the only good thing he had ever done with his life.

Being his only child with Bessie, you were spoiled as much as he could afford. As an infant you were given the warmest blankets, the softest toys, and the most attention he could give you.

That short period of time where he left the gang was around the time that you were born after him and Bessie’s wedding. He wanted to give you a proper childhood away from the hardship of the life of an outlaw.

As he said himself, though, the life just draws you back in.

When he went back to Dutch he brought you and Bessie with him.

Hosea worshiped and adored you. Everything he did in the gang he convinced himself was for you and Bessie.

He told you the story of Robin Hood as you grew old enough to understand stories before bedtime. He’d sit you in front of the fire and smile as you gazed up at him in wonder while he told the tale of the hero who stole from the rich to give to the poor.

During the earlier years of the gang, when they still stole for the good of others in one way or another, you always thought of Hosea as Robin Hood - he was a hero to you.

You started calling Dutch “Uncle Dutch” and considered many other members of the gang as family.

You were only eight when Arthur was brought in to the group. You followed him like a shadow and it warmed Hosea’s heart to see you trying to play with another kid (even though Arthur was fourteen by this time - he was still the youngest person for you to hang around).

Since Hosea eventually started viewing Arthur as a son, you viewed him as your badass older brother.

Teen Years:

By the time you turned fifteen, you were expected to start contributing to the gang. Most of the time you were just a pickpocket. Hosea didn’t want you robbing trains or putting yourself in any real danger, and Bessie wouldn’t allow you to do anything that could taint your soul (as she would put it).

For a while you were just quick and sneaky.

Arthur watched over you whenever you went into town to grab a few coins and watches from the people walking through the streets just in case anyone caught on to your act and you needed assistance.

You whined to Hosea that you felt like he didn’t trust you to take care of yourself since Arthur was always babysitting you, Hosea said he’d figure something out. He knew you could take care of yourself, of course.

He fixed it by telling Arthur to be sneakier while he was watching you.

Once you turned sixteen, Hosea started taking you on hunting trips with him. He wanted to make sure you could take care of yourself and your mom in case anything happened to him.

“Give a man a fish, he’ll eat for a day. Teach a man to fish, he’ll eat forever.” He’d say on nearly every hunting trip the two of you went on.

“But we’re hunting deer, Pop, not fishin’.” You’d correct him and he’d just wave his hand in the air as if to dismiss you. “Same concept, kid.” He’d retort.

At seventeen, John joined the Van Der Linde gang. It was the first time there was someone exactly your age near you daily that you got to interact with.

At first, John was following Arthur around like a puppy and it made you so jealous. You complained to Hosea about it, you said John was taking your brother from you and it wasn’t fair.

Hosea laughed lightly whenever you dramatically groaned and whined and told you to give it time, John would become your friend as well.

Hosea was right of course, as always. After a month or two the amazement over Arthur Morgan wore off and John became a great friend of yours.

The two of you bickered a lot, though. Being the same age and all, you were constantly at each other’s throats.

Bessie always said that you and John were like an old married couple. That comment caused you two to look at each other gag over dramatically.

Young Adulthood (around the events of the game):

When your mom, Bessie, died a part of you died with her. Hosea might as well have died too.

For a year, he never left his bed and when he did it was only to grab another bottle of whiskey to drown his sorrows in.

Some days were better than others during he grieving, but there were weeks that would go by when he couldn’t bear to look at you.

You had Bessie’s eyes and her smile. You had all the best parts of Bessie and seeing her in you but not seeing her made Hosea’s heart shatter all over again.

During this time you depended on Arthur and John to be your rocks. They were the ones who kept your focus away from the black hole of grief eating away at your insides. And during the days that the grief was too much to handle, they pat your back and held your hand while you let yourself rot away in bed.

Some nights John would come to see you when he couldn’t sleep and the two of you would cry over Bessie until you drifted out of consciousness.

Everyone felt her death deeply.

As time goes by, your wounds have healed as have Hosea’s. He sobered up and after a long crying session where all you two did was hold each other and reminisce over Bessie, you were a family again.

During the events at Blackwater, you were Hosea’s first priority. He got you packed and to safety as fast as he could once it was time to flee.

In that huge snowstorm on your way east, Hosea gave you his extra jacket and gloves to keep you warm. You rode in the wagon with Abigail and Jack, huddling with them for warmth and assuring them that John would be okay and back soon.

For a while after Blackwater, Hosea refused to let you out of his sights. After what happened with Bessie and the chaos that was that whole situation, you were the only thing he lived for. He couldn’t have anything happen to you.

You didn’t complain, either. You didn’t want to be away from him for a while. You were terrified during Blackwater, terrified you’d lose him or John or Arthur. You let him baby you and watch over you like a hawk as long as it gave his mind peace.

At Horseshoe Overlook, you went hunting with Hosea as often as you could. It was like a tradition for the two of you.

“Give a man a fish,” He’d start his lecture on the importance of learning survival skills and you’d have to stifle a groan and a laugh.

You’d probably heard that phrase nearly a million times at that point. He always said fish, too. Never changed it for whatever you were hunting.

Hosea wasn’t only your father, but your best friend. He was the best person you knew despite his occupation, and you adored him with your entire being.

He wasn’t technically a good man, but he was a great dad.

<><><><>

I hope you enjoyed these!! Thank you for reading

#rdr2 #arthur morgan rdr2 #rdr2 arthur #red dead redemption 2 #red dead redemption #rdr2 x reader #hosea matthews #hosea matthews as a dad #hosea matthews x reader #arthur morgan x reader #arthur morgan #john marston #john marston x reader

[forgetminot]

Hey! Hope you are doing okay 🩷

I have a little request (if you feel comfortable, of course). I would love for you to write about Arthur Morgan x F!reader (Or GN), both are former lovers and they are reminiscing their time together. You can make it romantic, anyway you want. 🩷

Distant Memory

✿ Arthur Morgan x F!reader ✿

Warnings : TB Arthur (based in chapter 4 after he has been diagnosed- iM sOrRy) angst, fluff, past relationship, use of y/n.

Authors Note : I took the 'anyway you want' and rolled with it. I loved writing this thank you for the request queen 💙💙

Summary : You run into a familiar face and spend some time catching up and reminiscing.

You didn't expect him to look so... fragile- he wasn't well and you could see just from a quick glance in his direction. You turn around suddenly, retracing your steps as you follow behind the man and place your hand gently on his shoulder.

"Arthur?" He turns, slightly startled as you call out his name; you take in his appearance, his face was sunken and his complexion sallow. "It is you-"

"Y/n?" He speaks your name so softly you hardly hear him say it. "What are you doin' here?" He questions, motioning his hand to the busy streets of Saint Denis.

"Just visiting, it's nice to get away from the country now and then." You smile gently. "It's good to see you." You whisper.

"It-" He brings his hand to his mouth, coughing harshly. "-It's nice to see you." He responds as he wipes his hand against his shirt.

"You don't look well, Arthur..." You frown, taking his arm and stepping to the side of the street to stay clear of the bustling road. "How are you, how's the gang?" You ask. You knew little of the gang, only hearing stories from Arthur and seeing pictures of their faces littered on wanted posters.

"The gang-" he chuckles. "The gang has seen better days and, well, so have I." He sighs, leaning on his right side against the brick wall.

"I'm sorry to hear that."

"Don't be, was going to happen sooner or later." He replies bluntly.

"What happened?" You ask.

"How much time you got?" He asks back.

"I'm not going anywhere." You smile faintly. "Would you like to go somewhere more quiet? It would be nice to catch up after all these years." You suggest.

"Uh, yeah, we can do that." He nods. "Do you have a horse?" He questions as he whistles loudly, watching as his horse trots towards you both.

"I took the train here." You respond.

He lifts himself onto his steed and holds out his hand for you, which you gladly take; he pulls you up and you sit behind him, placing your hands carefully on either side of his waist. He tells you to hold on tight as you both make your way out of the city, dodging people and wagons as you go. You ride in silence for a while and you watch as the landscape changes from thick, murky swamps to the vivid greens of the plains.

"This should do." Arthur says as he pulls tightly on the reins, bringing the horse to a complete stop. He gets down from the horse first and offers his hand once again for you to take.

"Thank you." You smile kindly as your feet touch the ground.

"Course, no problem." He nods and heads towards a small lake, sitting on the ground a few feet from it; you follow after him and sit beside him, grateful that the grass is dry and not caked in mud. "How's your family?"

"Oh- My mother passed not too long ago." You sigh. "She was sick, went in her sleep."

"I'm sorry to hear that, she was always a nice woman."

"She still was, until the end." You smile faintly. "My Pa is well, still strong after everything." You laugh. "I know the both of you never saw eye to eye."

"He never liked the whole outlaw thing." Arthur grins.

"So, what happened?" You ask, referencing back to the gang.

"What hasn't happened?" He scoffs. "Job back in Blackwater went bad, real bad- Dutch shot some innocent girl and he ain't been right since." He sighs. "Then we lost Sean, always thought I'd celebrate the day that annoying boy left." He chuckles lightly. "He was like a brother to me..."

"I'm sorry to hear that." You respond kindly.

"Lost Hosea and Lenny not too soon after that, bank job in Saint Denis went horribly wrong."

"So, that's what all the wanted posters are about." You acknowledge. "Hosea- you used to mention him all the time."

"He was a better father than my real one ever was." He hums. "Always told me I was an idiot for not running off with you."

You giggle. "I can't imagine how that would have turned out."

"Would have been nice." He replies suddenly, surprised by his own response.

"I think you're right." You beam.

"You do?" He questions, coughing lightly.

"You were always good to me, Arthur. Always looked out for me, made me feel safe." You smile sadly. "Maybe in another life, we would have made it work..."

"If i didn't have people to look after I-"

"I know." You cut him off. "You were always so loyal, it's one thing I loved about you."

"Wasn't loyal enough to you." He sighs.

"I always knew that the gang came first, even if you didn't want to say it out loud." You place your hand over his. "They're family."

"You could have been family too." He mumbles, taking his hand from yours as he coughs roughly into it.

You frown, moving your hand to his back. "You're sick, ain't you?" You say, already knowing the answer.

"I'm dyin'" He laughs coldly. "Got tuberculosis, beating a guy for a few bucks."

"Oh, Arthur..." You rub your hand up his back slowly. "I- don't know what to say- I'm sorry." You sniff sadly.

"Dont be, I deserve every last second of it." He states bluntly.

"Don't say that!" You scold.

"I ain't the same man you fell in love with." He responds.

"Even so, no one deserves this."

"I'm a killer, Y/n." He laughs, standing up. "I hurt people, I steal from 'em too."

"There's always some good in people, Arthur. You always did good." You express, standing up to meet his eyes.

"The person you knew, he's just a distant memory." He admits.

"I don't believe that." You step closer, taking both his hands in yours. "I don't think that part of you would just disappear, Arthur."

"You don't know me no more." He shakes his head.

"I do, because the person you are talking about wouldn't have spared me a second glance: wouldn't have helped me up onto his horse and sat next to me by the lake." You grip his hands tighter. "Maybe, if you really think you have changed- you should use the time you have left to be good."

"I- I'm tryin' to help people." He sighs.

"You are a good man, Arthur Morgan." You smile softly. "And I don't think you are too different from the man I never stopped loving." You place your hand against his cheek gently.

"Wish I never left." He whispers, placing his hand on top of your small one.

"We can't change the past." You frown.

"I'll do better." He insists.

You nod, leaning up and placing a quick kiss to his cheek. "I know."

#arthur morgan #arthur morgan x reader #x reader #arthur morgan x y/n #x y/n #arthur morgan x you #x you #arthur morgan x female reader #x female reader #red dead redemption 2 #rdr2 #red dead redemption arthur #red dead redemption x reader #reader insert #fanfic #fanfiction #tb!arthur morgan #arthur morgan angst #arthur morgan fluff #past relationships #I want to go back in time and save this man #requests #ask and you shall receive

[supa-lonely]

Say Something Stupid…

(Miguel O'Hara x Fem!Reader)

Summary: Miguel didn’t need this right now, an anomaly was on the loose, with his watch. Now he was here in a universe set in the past with a girl who won’t stop bugging him, no matter what dimension he travels to. God, he really didn’t need this, he didn’t need you.

A/N: don’t know how many chapters this will be, but hopefully you have a fun ride. Basically y/n is an oblivious ray of sunshine for Miguel’s brooding stormy weather. (Also my first fic, I’m very excited.)

Chapter 1: What Watch?

Considering how edgy your mind seemed, you never understood why life was so hectic. Always grab and go, never slowing down. The saying I'll sleep when I'm dead has become less of a little quip and more of a lifestyle for you. Of course, you weren't always like this. Growing up, you were a giddy little thing. Curious and outspoken. Never leaving one soul unventured in grade school. Then high school rolled around, and your curiosity was turned quiet. Friends were fading away, and strange looks were all you knew then. All you had at that point was assignments and work.

The isolating behavior made you anxious, questioning every movement that wasn't yours. At times, you even put yourself under the microscope of your own paranoia. Judging everything about yourself, from your face to your stomach and how disfigured you thought it looked. Sure, you had a bit of a belly, probably enough to be considered slightly chubby- nothing to be ashamed of, right? Hell- even the tiny mole on your inner thigh was under inspection, even though it looked more like someone had placed a black dot on your skin with a Sharpie marker than it did a mole. It still caused you to cringe at yourself. High school had not done you any favors in that regard. God, high school was a nightmare for you. That whole span of your life was a nightmare.

College was supposed to be less shitty, and while it was considerably so, it had its challenges.

Even though popular girls and cliques were no longer a threat to you now, somehow, classes had become your biggest antagonist. Every day, you sat in class. Listened intently to lecture after lecture, struggling to keep up and take notes. You'd miss essential points that your professor insisted were on the test but were too scared to ask anyone for help. So there you'd sit, waiting for everyone to leave, just to awkwardly ask the instructor if they could email you the PowerPoint. Feeling stupid and hoping no one was silently judging you.

Tests, Finals, Essays, Assignments... Everything was being piled onto you. That wasn't even the most hectic part of your life.

Your job was the vain of your existence.

You worked at a local coffee shop, and while people would always romanticize the occupation. The pay was good, but there were better places for a meet-cute.

The cafe was always busy, which you guessed was great for the owners. They were a lovely middle-aged couple whose two little gremlins were barely starting middle school. You weren't a bitch by any means; you were honestly happy for the success the couple's coffee shop was having. You'd been working there since they had just opened about a year ago, and surprise, surprise. Who knew your newfound peace would be obliterated by an on-slot of teens and young adults wanting to try a new trendy coffee spot they saw online.

Now that Dutch Bros. was old news, you had customers left and right, taking orders and making drinks. Half the time, you felt like you couldn't even think for yourself until closing; the contents of your mind were filled with orders you'd soon forget the moment your head hit the pillows of your bed at the end of the day. However, you'd been able to cope with the obnoxious trials of life with a little thing called routine. Yes, if you could just focus on completing the day's tasks every day. Maybe your existence on this only habitable planet will be bearable for the rest of your life. 

So that's what you did, for almost two years, that's what you've been doing. Besides the occasional surprise spam caller, everything had been going smoothly. It felt like nothing could go wrong and that nothing might ever go wrong again. This could work. Sure, It was lonely, but it meant less drama for you, no conflicting parties, no attachments, and no loss.

•*¨*•.¸¸☆*･ﾟ

It was a Tuesday night. You had a typical day: classes in the morning and a fifteen-minute nap before work in the afternoon. On Tuesdays, it was your turn to close up shop for the night. It was already late, and the clock on the wall showed 10PM in bright red typewriter font. A heavy sigh leaves your lips as you sluggishly walk from behind the register and up to the double doors of the cafe, eyelids heavy with a desire to sleep. You reach to lock them before any last-minute night owls in need of coffee come and force you to clean the machines again. Suddenly, a hand from behind the glass doors reaches for the handle; you look up to see a skinny man with stubble, pale, and a bit rugged, a tired expression taking hold of his face. You pulled the door open with hidden reluctance; you knew it was game over once you made eye contact with the customer.

The disheveled man seemed to walk inside quickly, pulling his hood over his head, which surprised you, but you didn't mention it. Maybe he was just a fast walker. Plus, it was kinda cold in here. When you followed him toward the register, you noticed the bag he was holding in front of him, almost like he was trying to hide it; it was a regular backpack, nothing out of the ordinary, and it looked exactly like your own. A black bag with crimson tassels on the zippers. A muffled noise was coming from the bag, a beeping sound; it didn't sound like any ringer you'd heard before.

"Uh- can I take your order?" You ask, not paying any mind to the annoying beeping.

He clears his throat. "Yeah- yeah, um..." 

His eyes wander towards the breakroom behind you. Your backpack was packed and ready to go by the room's door once you dealt with this last customer. The blond man looks back at you, not wanting to arouse suspicion. "Can I just get a muffin?"

You ring him up, 2.72, just like it always was. He hands you his credit card, his eyes flicking from your bag to you and the darkness of the night behind him. His voice sounded shaky, but you didn't pay any attention to it either; you just wanted to get home. To get to your routine. This whole situation was making you a little anxious. At least the beeping had stopped.

Once the man got his muffin, he sat at one of the open tables in the suppose-to-be-closed-5-minutes-ago cafe. He opened his phone, calling someone to come and pick him up; a nervous-sounding conversation that you didn't really pay any attention to as you grabbed a tablecloth and spray from the back and began to clean; you had your suspicions of course, which is why you decided to clean with only one earbud this time instead of two. It didn't really stop you from spraying, wiping, and jamming out to yourself as the man behind you ate his muffin and called his friend. Making sure every table was spotless, you overheard your manager discussing raises earlier today, even if the pay was good. Money was money, and a little extra couldn't hurt to have. It would be one less thing to worry about.

As you turned around to clean the rest of the tables, you saw that the man was gone, muffin untouched. The door's little bell rang, signaling that the strange man had just walked out. Your head turned towards the sound; you shrugged and walked up to the doors and locked them. 

Not wanting any more weirdos coming in and making you anymore late to your nightly routine.

You picked up after the man, keeping the muffin. Aw, yes, free food—a simple pleasure no human could refuse to indulge in. Technically, you weren't stealing; someone paid for it. Plus, with how he acted, it didn't seem like he was coming back. Placing the muffin in a brown paper bag, you go right back to wiping down tables, the time reading midnight once you finish.

"Damn it." You say to yourself, slinging one of the straps of your backpack onto your shoulder. Reading the time almost made you want to burst into tears. Maybe it was just frustration or the sleep you lacked that was putting a lump in your throat. As much as you liked the tranquillity your little routine provided, you were sad and lonely and so, so tired. It was starting to become overwhelming. 

You took a deep breath, ignored the clock on the wall, and turned off the cafe lights. The sooner you got home, the better. All you needed was sleep. That's all you need.

Beep-!

What?

Your head whips around, trying to find the source of the repetitive noise. It was the same sound that was admitted from the man moments ago. The bright light of your phone illuminated your features as you turned the device on, checking if it was your phone possibly making the noise. 

No notifications, definitely not you.

What was going on? It was late, you had a long walk home. You didn't need more problems. As you groan in frustration, you set your phone in the pocket of your sweats and look up at the ceiling defeatedly. It was settled; you've become insane. You pat yourself down in a feeble attempt to find the noise, even looking around the cafe, but nothing was found. You assume the noise is coming from your bag. Hopefully, your laptop isn't taking its final breaths, and the beeping was a sign for help. 

You walk towards the glass doors of the coffee shop, ready to just give up and leave; at least you had your muffin, the only saving grace of the night. 

"Forget it, this is pointless- Just go home, get some sleep... go home- get some sleep, go home- get some-" The beeping suddenly stops, and as you go to sigh in relief, your breath catches in your throat as you look up from the now unlocked door, a figure standing a few feet away from the doors, red- bright red crescents looking at you. The figure is encased in the dark. You stumble a step back, and the man takes a step forward, then another. Struggling breaths forcefully leave your mouth as you try and lock the door. Your hands are shaking too violently to lock the door, so you abandon the idea for a better one. Run.

You sprint for the backdoor, sliding along the clean wooden floor as you turn to go past the register counter. Almost tripping over yourself, you could hear the door swing open harshly and big, broad steps coming up behind you. Getting faster and faster to keep up with you- no, to catch you. Tears prickled at your eyes as you pushed through the backdoor into the alleyway. The man's hand barely grazed your skin as you ran, trying to grab you. A deep groaning of irritation could be heard behind you, which didn't help your palpitations. Your slowing speed only worsened your panic until he finally reached for you again and, this time, succeeded in gripping you.

"Ah-!" You slammed the ground harshly, the man's muscular body atop you, holding you by your biceps. The grip stung, almost like he had claws; it caused you to wince, a small noise of pain escaping your lips. "I- I'm sorry, I shouldn't have taken anything!" You cry. "The guy didn't- seem like he wanted it!" At this point, you were trying anything to get him off you.

When he spoke, it sent shivers down your spine. A voice so deep and menacing that you thought it was the devil himself talking to you.

"Damn right, you shouldn't have; now, where's the watch!" He said, a rough snap in his tone.

You paused, sniffling. "W-watch?" you asked timidly, the answer practically squeezed out of you.

"Yes. The watch-! What else would I be talking about?" The masked man says, his irritation boiling with every word.

"A pastry?"

#miguel o'hara #atsv miguel #miguel x reader #miguel x you #miguel 2099 #miguel x y/n #t writes #miguel fanfic #miguel o’hara fanfiction #atsv #supalonelywrites #female reader #sunshine x grumpy #oblivious reader #golden retriever energy #fanfic #fanfiction

[httpsdana]

HI BABY ITS ME OFC

can i have prompt 138 when the reader is poorly and eric is doing her hair and babying her to look after her making sure she knows she’s loved

Loved~Eric Garcia

*GIF isn't mine. credits to the owner*

HE LOOKS ADORABLE IN THIS GIF. blame Lil its not my fault I swear. ANYWAYS. This is for my fav girl enjoy <33

you can request from my prompt list

this is my master list

players/drivers I write for

138-"shh.. stop fussing, I'm just braiding your hair."

Her period was about to start in a few days. And her emotions were all over the place. She was feeling really down, that she believed its not because of her period anymore. Suddenly she felt uncomfortable in her own body. Suddenly she could point out every imperfection in her.

But Eric noticed that immediately. It wasn't that she couldn't hide her disappointment, but he could always read through her. He always knew when she was feeling sad, and tried to making her feel better without telling her that he noticed her sadness.

"I got you some chocolate and ice cream. I thought we could watch some soppy romantic movies and cry a bit?" he suggested with a grin, making y/n's frown turn into a smile.

He held her up in his arms, her arms around his neck and legs around his torso, with his arms around her waist to steady her. He carried her to the living room, where he had everything set up. He had lightened some scented candles, and had placed two glasses of red wine next to the ice cream and chocolate.

She felt the tears in her eyes at the sight of what he had prepared for her

"you did this for me?" she said in a cracked voice, sniffing a bit, making Eric smile

"of course baby. we haven't had a lazy night for a while now. and I know you need it." he kissed the top of her head, before grabbing one of his hoodies that was placed on the side of the couch

"here let me help you wear this" he helped her take her t-shirt off, the tip of his warm fingers feeling soft against her cold skin.

She smiled gratefully at him, before he sat her down on the couch. He put their favorite movie on, before he sat down next to her. He held her waist close, before placing her on his lap, her back against her chest and arms around her stomach and under her hoodie, rubbing soft circles.

They were sat in silence, neither of them making a single move except for the occasional kisses Eric left on the top of her head.

Suddenly, Eric shifted under her a bit, placing her between his legs and putting a pillow under bin, so he was a bit higher. He ran his fingers through her hair, before he split her hair into two sides. He started by braiding the first side, making sure not to hurt her.

"Eric. what are you doing?" she tried looking up, but he only turned her head down back fo the movie that was playing.

"shh.. stop fussing, I'm just braiding your hair." he mumbled, his tongue poking out of mouth in concentration

"since when do you know how to braid?" she laughed slightly, already feeling her mood brighten up a bit

"I've noticed that you tried more than once to braid your own hair, but you were never able to complete then because your arms would hurt you. So I've been watching some tutorials on YouTube to learn how to braid. This was a hard style but I'm trying to make the Dutch braid. I think it will make you look more beautiful than you already are" he said, only to hear some sniffs in response

"you'd do that for me? oh my god I don't deserve you" she wiped her eyes, only for Eric to chuckle

"I'm the one who doesn't deserve you amor. now focus on the movie and let me finish your braids. just give me a kiss before" he lifted her head upside, putting his hand on her neck while the other was still in her hair.

He kissed her deeply, with passion and love. This action alone was enough for y/n to know how much she was loved by Eric. And the feeling was mutual

#football #football blurb #football imagine #football one shot #football x reader #footballer imagine #barcelona #fc barça #barca fc #fc barcelona #fc barca #barça #barca #eric garcia imagine #eric garcia x reader #eric garcia blurb #eric garcia x you #eric garcia x y/n #eric garcia fluff #eric garcia one shot #eric garcia fic #eric garcia

[margowritesthings]

...For They Shall Obtain Mercy

Part 2 of 𝐁𝐥𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐞𝐝 𝐀𝐫𝐞 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐌𝐞𝐫𝐜𝐢𝐟𝐮𝐥, 𝐅𝐨𝐫 𝐓𝐡𝐞𝐲 𝐒𝐡𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐎𝐛𝐭𝐚𝐢𝐧 𝐌𝐞𝐫𝐜𝐲

[Read Part 1 by @cowboydisaster Here]

pairing: Arthur Morgan x reader

word count: 2779

warnings: major character death, rdr2 spoilers, angst, violence, grief, loss, this destroyed me to write

a/n: here it is... my part of the 'Blessed Are The Merciful, For They Shall Obtain Mercy' series with the incredible Bre! I'm honoured to have collaborated with such a talented soul! Hope y’all enjoy because this one hurt…

tagging: @cowboydisaster @cassidylynnj @inkandbloodbound @counteveryfreckle @reaveries @elifsukirdaghehe

“I’m real sorry for you, son, it’s a hell of a thing.”

Arthur’s ears are ringing, part from the pure exhaustion failing to push the blood around his veins, part the doctor’s distant words. He feels miles away, despite the fact that Arthur is sitting only feet away from the man.

Tuberculosis?

“Well, what you mean?” He somehow manages to stutter out, feeling his heart struggle to pound against his chest. His mind is racing, the only part of him that doesn’t seem to have slowed recently, but he can’t seem to decipher anything running through it. Except you, of course. You’re always there.

“You’re real sick. It’s a progressive disease. You’ll be…”

Gone.

The man trails off and Arthur knows. He knows in the way the doctor’s eyes shift away from him, unable to maintain eye contact. It’s the exact way Grimshaw’s did those months ago, when Arthur’s world fell apart before him. The doctor looks so uncomfortable Arthur almost feels sorry for him, but it’s wasted. He doesn’t need to feel like he’s saying anything but exactly what Arthur wants to hear. 

Say it. Say I’ll be dead and gone. Give me weeks, days. 

           I want to be with her.

But the doctor just can’t bring himself to say it. To give Arthur the goddamn relief he has yearned for since that bullet tore through everything he has ever loved, everything he lived for.

“Well, the best thing is rest, getting somewhere warm and dry and taking it easy. Is that possible?” 

Arthur could laugh at the question, were he not certain that it would set him off in that painful cough again that reddened the corners of his vision. He shakes his head, responding weakly.

“No. It’s not possible.” There’s no anger there, no fire in his tone, just a weariness he’s worn since you left, and an acceptance he hasn’t felt in just as long. 

And he can see the last of his days playing out before him. Rest will prolong it all, so rest there shall not be. God willing, he has precious little time to get his affairs in order. He’ll have to work hard, earn enough money to help John, Jack and Abigail get out of the gang for good. He’ll try to get through to Dutch, try not to leave the only family he’s ever known in the grasps of that rat bastard Micah. And then, once he’s watched the Marston’s ride off into the sunset, he can finally come home to you. 

The man sitting across from Arthur wears an expression so stricken with pity it almost hurts, but nonetheless he pulls a wooden pipe out of the pocket of his lab coat and strikes a match, lighting the tobacco stuffed inside. There’s a pause, a moment where all that can be heard is the sizzle of dry leaves burning while the doctor takes his first toke. 

“Well, like I said. I’m real sorry.”

I’m not. 

═══════☆═══════

The first place Arthur rides to once leaving the doctor’s office is your grave. After your death, he took your horse, rode your body out of Shady Bell, and buried you in one of your favourite spots near the lake. It’s secluded but beautiful, close by to the spot he first told you he loved you. He visits often, sitting with you, telling you stories of the gang. Sometimes he just sits in silence, grasping for just the slightest hint of your energy. He always brings violets, your favourites. Today is no exception. 

He rides as fast as he can, his ailing bones aching but determination driving him back to the closest thing he has to you for now. 

He dismounts his mare, rewarding her with a sugar cube to thank her for her power and speed when he needs it the most, before carefully taking the violets from his satchel and turning to your final resting place. 

It is only a few steps before he’s right beside your grave. He often rides right up, knowing you’d like to see the horses (whenever he can, he takes your horse, but today he’s with his own). 

“Hey, sweetheart.” He slides to his knees in front of where you’re buried, weary joints thankful for the soft dirt beneath them. 

Arthur busies his hands by picking out any flowers that have dried since he was last here and replacing them with his fresh ones, making a mental note to ask Charles to do the same whenever he gets the chance, make sure your spot is looked after once he’s gone. 

“I, uh… I got some news for ya’.” The first few times Arthur spoke to you, he was reserved, almost awkward, not really knowing how to say what he wanted to. But he soon got used to it and speaks so naturally now, so openly, as if you’re really sitting there with him. He knows, deep down, that you are.

“I’m gonna be with ya’, darlin’. Real soon, actually.” He can’t help the smile that creeps right up from his heart to his face. 

Maybe in another life, one without you, Arthur would have seen this end as a punishment. God striking the wicked, the outlaw who killed and robbed and used his name in vain whenever he goddamn pleased, but no. In this life, he sees it for what it is: mercy. 

The second your heart stopped beating, Arthur’s sentence began. His sins were paid for with your life while he was left standing with nothing but a scar on his arm from a bullet graze, forced to learn to do this with only one half of his soul, forced to take each laboured breath alone again and again despite wanting anything but. 

And finally, after serving his time, he shall be granted the mercy of rest.

“Now, I know what you’re thinkin’ and I ain’t givin’ up. I promised ya’ I wouldn’t. But I’m sick… real sick, doctor says.”

Once he’s sorted through the flowers, Arthur stills, his hand resting on the wooden headstone he crafted for you. For the first time, he notices just how pale and splotchy his complexion is, how thin his wrist looks in his sleeve. It calls upon a strange mix of emotion and he takes a deep breath to steady himself.

“I’ve got a plan- and don’t be goin’ on about how I sound like Dutch, I know… but I’m gonna get John out. Abigail, too, and Jack. I’m gonna work real hard and get them safe, then I’ll be right with you.”

Arthur shifts to sit rather than kneel, reaching into his collar and pulling out the golden chain around his neck, your engagement ring swaying slightly in the air before he drops it into his palm. The metal presses a little circle into his skin when he squeezes, imagining your fingers entangled in his in that perfect fit he’d kill to feel one last time. His breath is shaky as he exhales slowly, closing his eyes and focusing in on the sensation of the cold metal on his clammy skin. 

He’s ready, he knows that much is true, but that doesn’t change the fact that he’s still scared. He needs you, now more than ever, as he stands at the edge of the complete unknown. But he has to do this last stretch alone. One last ride before it’s finally over. 

“I’m comin’, darlin’. Wait up for me, okay?”

═══════☆═══════

Tensions get progressively higher in the gang and Arthur loses hope for Dutch, but he never stops fighting for John, Abigail and Jack. He pushes himself to the very limit of what his body can do before it gives out, saving every cent he can. Micah sinks his claws in further and further, the atmosphere around camp gets darker. 

When Sadie figures it out, there’s a quiet knowing that can only come from losing your soulmate. She’s devastated at the thought of losing Arthur, but she knows she’d give anything and everything to see her Jackey again. She knows he’d do the same to be with you, to have the mercy of no longer having to go on without your heart.

Charles is the same. He hasn’t lost in the same way Arthur and Sadie have, but he understands. He promises Arthur he will make sure your grave is looked after.

Arthur doesn’t tell anybody else outright, but they know. Nobody talks about it, except Micah, but they lost the Arthur they knew and loved the same day they lost you. They all sort through the sadness and gain the same clarity Arthur had the second that the doctor looked at him like a dying man: this is mercy, in that twisted way that only those who have lost everything can ever really comprehend. 

He gets weaker, sometimes collapsing while out on jobs, waking up in widow’s houses or goddamn Guarma, of all places, for a few weeks there. Every time he loses consciousness, he hopes he’ll find you waiting for him, but the lord isn’t that kind just yet. 

His body holds on for just that bit longer, until one day he’s standing in front of a mirror just after a bath and he can barely recognise himself. His eyes have hollowed, and no matter how much he eats his skin seems to hang on his bones awkwardly. It’s a striking, painful sight after so long of his worth being pinned on his title of Dutch’s muscle, but it’s a reminder that he can’t carry on forever. 

Good. 

═══════☆═══════

Everything comes to a head at Bacchus Bridge. ‘One last job’, as Dutch calls it. And Arthur knows he’s right.

One last job and I’ll be with ya’. 

When it all falls apart, Arthur uses the absolute last of his strength to rescue Abigail from Milton and saves John. They run from Micah together, until Arthur just can’t run anymore.

“Alright, Arthur, come on. Let’s go.” John pleads, his chest sinking when he sees Arthur leaning on his knees, gasping for breath.

“You go…” he manages in a breath, barely audible.

“Keep pushing, Arthur.”

And Arthur knows.

“No… no, I think I’ve pushed all I can.”

It’s time.

“Come on.”

“You go.”

He can’t fight anymore. 

“We ain’t got time for this. Not now.”

There’s a second shared between the two brothers where everything hangs in the air. All those years where it was John and Arthur against the world, all those jobs and fights and heartbreak and near misses and first loves and last loves and two lives lived dangerously and wholly side by side. It all ends now, with John, who is desperately holding on, and Arthur, who let go a long time ago. 

“We ain’t both gonna make it. Go. Now. I’ll hold them off.” John has never heard Arthur sound so physically weak, but his strength is in his sacrifice, it’s in the determined way he takes off his hat and places it on John’s head, pressing it securely down. 

There’s still a hesitation, John’s unwillingness to leave his brother behind and carry on without him, his lingering final promise to you that he’d look after Arthur, but he says nothing. He realises that Arthur just can’t do it any more. He knows he wants to be with you, more than anything. And who is John to stop him.

“It would mean a lot to me. Please.” Arthur’s voice breaks on his last plea, begging John to let him make his final sacrifice for his family. He places a hand on John’s shoulder, resting his weight into him for a brief moment, the last time he’ll ever lean on his brother. John is silent, resigned. He knows there is no changing Arthur’s mind, especially when he pulls his satchel off his shoulder and hangs it around John’s. He doesn’t need it where he’s going. 

“There ain’t no more time for talk… go.” he mutters, a gunshot echoing in the distance as a reminder of why they’re running. If Arthur is going to do this, if John is going to get out safe with his family, it has to be now. Arthur turns to walk away, and all John can do is shout his name one last time, one last ditch attempt to keep his final promise to you, but his tone loses all its push. 

“Arthur…”

“Get the hell outta here and be a goddamn man! Go to your family… I’m goin’ to mine.” 

═══════☆═══════

Once Arthur knows the Marstons are safe, he has seldom left to lose. He gives it all one last push, fighting Micah until his body gives in and then some. 

“I’m a survivor, black lung. That’s all there is to it.” He sneers, Arthur’s blood splattering against his knuckles with each blow, “Not like you, or your pretty little girlfriend. What was her name, again? I forget.” 

A surge of energy, and he’s certain it’s you right there beside him, pushes Arthur off the ground. He manages to overpower Micah just enough to push him off the ledge. They both fall quite a height and the very last of Arthur’s air is knocked straight out of his chest and god it hurts so bad but all he can do is carry on fighting. 

Not long now, my love. 

Punches are thrown from both sides and it’s soon quite difficult to tell who is covered in whose blood. Arthur is running on pure fury and adrenaline now and he’s not sure how much he has left, but it surges when Micah says “still got a little fight in you, have you boy?”

“I fight for her.” He wheezes, lunging forwards and striking Micah in the eye, sending him falling backwards.

Arthur tries to drag the air into his lungs, but it’s tough. He can feel each manual function in his body failing, feel the coldness creeping up his spine. 

Micah struggles back to his feet and before Arthur even knows what’s happening, he’s hit across the face hard and falls to the floor. The scraping of gunmetal against rock is so striking amongst the visceral sounds of man fighting man as Arthur’s pistol falls to the ground and slides right to the edge of the cliff. 

Arthur can’t stand. He’s running out of steam, but he has to reach that gun. He crawls, scraping his bare hands against the floor desperately, the very last push. The very last push before he’s with you. 

“Oh, black lung, you ain’t gonna reach that gun.” Micah taunts, “You lost, my sick friend. You lost.”

All Arthur can do, despite everything, is smile. 

He tried to lose, he really did. When he lost you, Arthur did everything he could to lose this sick game God was playing with him. He lost himself, he lost his purpose. But then, on his last day in this world, he saved Abigail from Milton, and with some of the last breath in his bones, he got John and his family out. And now? You’re so close he can almost reach out and touch you. You’re waiting for him, he knows that. So how could he have lost?

“In the end… despite my best efforts to the contrary… it turns out I’ve won.”

═══════☆═══════

In the end, Arthur couldn’t get through to Dutch, but what’s done is done. He left, and Micah hobbled away, leaving Arthur to live his final moments alone.

They say a man’s life flashes before his eyes in his final moments, but they’re wrong. Arthur doesn’t see the jobs or the money, the strifes and the cells, he only sees the good parts. He sees you, laughing as you pounce onto him, pushing him down in the grass. He sees himself picking you up and twirling you around after not seeing you for a few days. He sees the way your face lights up as you realise what he’s doing all the way down there on one knee, a shaking hand holding out a ring to you. 

The sun is setting, casting the most beautiful orange glow over the cowboy. He looks over, watching the clouds wisp around the orb while letting his laboured breaths slow. 

“I’m comin’, darlin…” he whispers, barely audible anymore but it doesn’t matter. You can hear him. 

With the very last of his energy, Arthur’s brows pull together ever so slightly as he notices a shadow cast over him. He looks up, watching as a doe stalks towards him, bowing her head right beside him. She nudges her head against his, and Arthur knows it’s time to let go. 

You’re here for him. 

It’s time to come home.

#arthur morgan #arthur morgan x y/n #rdr2 #arthur morgan x reader #arthur morgan x you #arthur morgan imagine #arthur morgan rdr2 #arthur morgan fanfiction #arthur morgan angst #rdr2 fanfic

[non-stop-imagines]

“The Absent and The Invisible”- 🐹 anon

Oh, I'm excited about this one!! Here's the little prequel/background story part I have so far 😊

(Hint: Older Brother!Max x Younger sister!Reader)

_______

January 2010 (Yn: Age 7; Max: Age 12)

You poke your head into Max's room at your dad's house, quietly watching him pack his things for karting practice. You were staying with your dad for a week, an agreement made between your mom and Jos that allowed you to see your siblings a bit more often then if you only lived in South Africa with your mom. Half of whatever break that came up in your school schedule, right now being the later half Winter Break.

"Are you getting ready for karting practice again?" You draw out the whine in your voice as you shuffle your way into his room and flop onto his bed.

"Yes. Why are you in my room?" He answers bluntly without looking at you, making sure he has everything he needed, which required extra equipment due to the extremely cold Dutch winter.

"Because. Why are you always karting?" You pick up the book that was lying closed on his bed a flip through it, making yourself bounce on his mattress.

"Because I like to. And I want to be the best and drive in Formula 1 and to do so I need to practice." He zips up his bag and then walks over to you on his bed to pluck his book from your hands. "Why are you in my room?"

"I wanted to play a game." You were unphased by the loss of the book in your hands, still bouncing on the bed.

"Why not ask Victoria?" Now fully ready for practice, Max stood with his arms crossed watching you unamused.

"Because she's on the phone with her friends, like always. And your more fun to play with because you get angry when you lose." You stop bouncing when Max points you off of his bed, straightening up his covers once your off and twisting in his desk chair. He though about it, and the small soft spot he had for his youngest sister kicked in.

"What game?" Max went back over to his bag, giving it a light kick as he waited for your answer.

"Operation." Your answer was bright and chipper, which was followed by the completely contrasting boom of Jos' voice calling Max down to leave for practice.

"Fine, we'll play before bed. Now, out of my room." You happily bound out of his room while he gathers his things and closes his door behind him, responding to the second call from his father.

"Thank you, Max!" You head to your room to pull out the game and practice while he heads the opposite direction to go downstairs and meet Jos by the door.

_____

"Max..." The sing-songy tone in your high pitched voice floats into Max's room, making him roll his eyes when the game box appears in his door. You then appear behind the box, eyes widened and lips in a pout. "You promised."

"I know... Fine. One game and then you go." You happily skip into his room and bring setting up the game on his floor, giving him time to pause the game on his Nintendo DS and mentally prepare for playing the board game that his sister was oddly obsessed with.

"Okay, I'll go first." You slowly, and surprisingly steadily, reach into what you deemed was the easiest, and pulled out the rubber band, dropping it into the tray that was off to the side of the board and handing the tweezers to Max. To be completely honest, you guys never looked at the instruction ls for the game, but merely came to a consensus on how to play that works until someone is losing and then opens up for cheating.

"Of course you went for the easy one." Max attempts to go for the butterfly piece in the stomach, but the irritating beep from the tweezers hitting the edge of the cavity indicated the end of his turn, forcing him to reluctantly relinquish the toy tweezers.

"I had to make it harder for you." You go for the same piece as your brother and effortlessly lift it out of its cavity and drop it into the tray. "And that is why I'm gonna be a surgeon. And your just gonna drive cars."

"Formula 1 is more than just 'driving cars'." Max goes completely quiet as he goes for the water pail piece, successfully pulling it out and dropping it into the tray. "Ha!"

"What are you two doing up?" Jos' booming voice from Max's door made both of you jump and turn towards him. You start to stutter out an answer when Max speaks up.

"I promised I would play a game with her before bed." You hadn't noticed, but Max seemed to subconsciously move his body between you cleaning up the board game pieces and your guys' father's ster stature.

"It's well past your bedtime. And I'm sure once your hard work pays off and your making millions from being the best driver in Formula 1, your sister would've forgotten all about you not playing a board game with her." Jos waved you to him and towards your room, harshly flicking off Max's bedroom light as he leaves the door frame.

You never did quite forget about not being able to play with your brother.

#🐹 anon #🐹 #formula 1 #black reader #WIPS Game #max verstappen

[handsofdarkness]

WITHIN TEMPTATION To Release New Single, 'A Fool's Parade'

Dutch metallers WITHIN TEMPTATION will release a new single, "A Fool's Parade", on April 5. The track features a guest appearance by the Ukrainian alt-rock/metalcore artist Alex Yarmak, who has been steadily growing his fanbase since 2021.

In a fall 2023 interview with Metal Kaoz, WITHIN TEMPTATION singer Sharon Den Adel spoke about the band's decision to release its latest album, "Bleed Out", independently, having parted ways with the Vertigo label. She said: "I did this participation with [Dutch trance DJ] Armin Van Buuren once — I wrote a song together with him — so we tasted a little bit of the dance music and we saw that they were doing things so differently, knowing him, knowing the scene and starting to watch what they were doing. They were actually just doing it so not traditionally, as in rock music is known for and metal music. So they are way more fluid in when they can release something. They say, 'Oh, I'm gonna write a song and I'm gonna release it two weeks from now.' They can do that. It's because they think differently and it's a different ballgame. And we felt, like, 'Why aren't we doing that? Why are we always restricted to writing a complete album? And then writing certain songs that you feel are essential or in the moment that you have to release now, because if it ends up on the album, three years later, everybody has talked about it; it's not important anymore.' And they're, like, 'Oh my God. Are they still talking about that? That was three years ago.' That really feels stupid to me. And so we told the record company, 'Can we please just release some songs? Because the album's not going to be out there yet, and we're going on tour with EVANESCENCE. And they said, 'No. We can't do that, because we're traditional. We don't know how to cope with that different way of releasing.' And they still had an option for a new album. And we said, 'Well, then we would like to break up the contracts and go our own way.' And they said, 'Well, maybe you should, because we don't see how we can do this with you.' And we were happy they let us go."

She continued: "[2019's] 'Resist' [album from WITHIN TEMPTATION] was very successful for [the record label], but still, I think that they would not have had happy campers in their company with us [being around]. [Laughs] We're not the easiest maybe also. But in the end, it was the best way and I'm really happy it went the way it is. And it gave us the opportunity to do it our own way. On the other hand, it is more work, because we have to hire now people to do the job that a record company normally does. And you have to think about budgets and stuff like that. Who are you gonna do interviews with? How many interviews? Organize press agents all over. It's, like, oh my God. It's a company on its own. But, luckily, we have a management that does take most of that away. Of course, we have to come up with the ideas and give the goals and everything, but they work it out for us. And so we are not involved in that part, because it takes so much energy away from writing music and being creative, of course, which, you as an artist, never want to [deal with]. You just want to [be], like, 'They do that.' And I'm so happy they do that, because they're good at it. And I don't wanna do this. But then, now it's forced upon us again to do those things as well. And it gives you more freedom, and that's what we wanted."

"Bleed Out" signifies a bold leap forward for the band. From contemporary, hard-hitting, and djenty riffs to soaring melodies displaying their symphonic roots, WITHIN TEMPTATION has created a sonic journey that fuses diverse musical styles and thought-provoking themes. This is an album that is as epic as it is unflinchingly outspoken, and now more than ever, this is a band who isn't afraid to make a stand on issues the members care about.

Since the start of the war in Ukraine, WITHIN TEMPTATION have shifted their focus from writing about personal emotions and societal subjects to tackling global injustices and reflecting the tumultuous state of the world in a way that other artists seem unable or unwilling to do.

While songs such as "Wireless" and "We Go To War" examine the authoritarian aggression on display in Ukraine and other warzones, the title track itself addresses the plight of women fighting for their rights in Iran after the murder of Mahsa Amini.

The album also grapples with the complex issues around a woman's right to choose in recent single "Don't Pray For Me" and throughout, this impassioned and political focus is reflected in the intensity and heaviness of the music. Embracing a new era of musical exploration and lyrical depth, WITHIN TEMPTATION have pushed boundaries and showcased their artistic evolution, delivering a fist-in-the-air proclamation of both their moral convictions and their fearless approach to music.

#within temptation #a fool's parade #news

[lovings4turn]

𝐊𝐈𝐒𝐒 𝐅𝐑𝐎𝐌 𝐀 𝐕𝐀𝐌𝐏𝐈𝐑𝐄 — send me a lil description of yourself + fandom(s) and i'll ship you with someone + give you your best friend !

hello love! first up, a huge congratulations once again for the milestone, i am very proud of you and you deserve all the follows you have and much more !! 🫶🫶🫶 now i have to describe myself, huh? here we go then! sending it from off-anon for funsies i guess !! 😭 you already know me though, so wellll... let's go for real!!

i'm dutch && indian, speaking upto five languages, and tend to ramble in any of those at any given time. (english; spanish; dutch; hindi; sindhi!) though, an odd catch is i do not speak until spoken to - yep, i'm that much of an introvert 😭 my bad, i guess? i do speak when comfortable with someone, of course! i have short dark brown hair, and unfortunately am very short, making me not look my age. i've been confused for my younger brother many times because of my voice, apparently it sounds like a child?? (oh my gosh, imagine the ship joking around about that! 😭) onto my likes, i love F1 and spending my time on pinterest as well as that, i love reading and frying my cells about STEM because women in stem ✌🏼but i also have adhd, so i can barely pay attention for long before mentally blocking out everything in sight. i love making things look pretty and playing games on my laptop. also, one weird thing is i can never sit to watch a movie - i don't have the attention span for it, nor can i sit still for that long, AND i always feel guilty for spending time watching a movie, because i feel like i could be productive. but.... i guess that's it about me? if anything, you can ask/my account is there at your viewing pleasure! :DD another congratulations love!!

EEEK hello my lovely !!! ruhi you truly are the sweetest ever , thank u sm and thank you for all of the love n support i swear :(( thanks so much for joining in w the celebration lovely ,, i hope you like this !!!

𝐢'𝐝 𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐩 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐨 𝐧𝐨𝐫𝐫𝐢𝐬 !

now i did have a bit of a struggle trying to choose just one driver to ship you with , but lando won in the end for me !! i just think you two would be oh so cute together , and are a match made in heaven !

ᡣ𐭩 lando loves how you're shorter than him , oh my god does he love it !!! he's such a little shit about it , constantly resting his elbow on top of your head or joking that he's going to do his back in one day bending down to kiss you ! the first time he witnesses you be mistaken for your younger brother , he loses his absolute mind . thinks it's the funniest thing he's ever seen , and presses a kiss to your pout through his laughter . he never lets you live it down , i'm afraid

ᡣ𐭩 so so impressed by the fact that you're a woman in stem ! lando cannot wrap his head around most , if not all , of the things that you study , and any time he peers over you're shoulder when you're reading a textbook , he eels his brain turn to mush . is always telling you how smart you are and how proud of you he is , because his girl is so smart and he's so proud !!!

ᡣ𐭩 you guys love playing games together , oh my god !!! lando likes that he can spend time with the person he loves most whilst doing something he loves , too ! you both get far too invested in the game , and are teasingly competitive with one another , and lando thinks it's the best way to spend his time !

ᡣ𐭩 lando doesn't mind that you don't have the attention span to sit and watch a film - he much prefers being able to do something more active / engaging with you , anyways !!!! lando loves being busy and on the move , so it works out perfectly for him

𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐛𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐟𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝 𝐰𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐛𝐞 𝐦𝐚𝐱 𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐞𝐧 !

ᡣ𐭩 this makes so much sense to me , and i love the idea of max being besties with lando's gf okay !!! max loves that he can speak dutch with you , something about not having to do the quick mental translations means he can max-splain and yap to you as much as he wants !! he makes an effort to engage in conversation with you whenever he sees you , even though he knows you're comfy enough to spark the conversation

ᡣ𐭩 he understands you , with the whole 'always feeling the need to be productive' thing . max is a guy who always wants to be doing something (hence his inability to get off of the sim !!!) and so this idea is something you can both bond over and joke about

ᡣ𐭩 also very intrigued about your studies !! max finds the whole thing super engaging , and though he says he wouldn't have a clue about anything you're studying , he has no issues with you rambling about the subject to him - or just straight up complaining about the amount of hard work you have to do !

#𑁤 becca’s 1k fright fest ! #ಇ. queue!

[raccoon-eyed-rebel]

Part 3 - With flying colors

Masterlist

Series Masterlist

Part 2 -- Part 4

Pairing: Mike x OFC (Danielle)

Warnings: Smut! 18+ (Minors DNI). shower sex, oral (M receiving), swearing, general awkwardness. There's some footnotes... Those always scare me...

Summary: Dani spends the night at 179th Crescent Street and meets the roommates in the morning...

Word count: 5.8k

If you catch any mistakes, just know that Daddy August doesn't take kindly to tattletales... 😏😏

A/N: Not a lot of smut here - but some of it. Lot's of ~social interaction~. Also, for anyone trying to figure out where exactly these guys go to uni: CANDYLAND, okay? I'm most familiar with Dutch uni's, but some US College-type things snuck in... It's a hot mess, and we're gonna keep it that way.

Finding the perfect movie to watch on a date is not easy. The tragedy commences as soon as someone shoves their Netflix account in your face. Let’s be really clear about one thing: Everything on Netflix blows. There’s too much and too little at the same time, the suggestions are all terrible, they always have that one movie that reminds you of the one you’re actually looking for, but that’s never on there. It’s a nightmare. Then, there’s the selection process itself - and with that a shocking amount of social protocol to navigate. As a woman, you obviously can’t make any unsavory intentions too obvious. Which means you can’t pick something that’s so bad that he instantly knows you’re not interested in watching, but you don’t want to pick something you actually end up watching. And it is slim goddamn pickings in that ‘don’t mind watching, but don’t mind not watching’-category. 

“Hi, guys!” It sounded dull, what with the door being closed and everything, but it was definitely Mikey. 

Someone else, whose voice you didn’t recognise, replied to his greeting. “Don’t you have company?” 

“Yeah, speaking of: Could you keep it down tomorrow morning?” Mike again. Who was he asking? He’d said ‘hey guys’, plural. Who else was out there?     

“Of course.” That was definitely a second mystery voice. 

“Thanks! G‘night, guys! Nice to meet you, Elena!” Mike’s voice got louder until you could tell he was right outside the door. 

“Hey!” Mike smiled at you when he walked in. He quickly shut the door behind him. “Pick something?”

“Eh, no,” you said. Why were you blushing? Why was your heart already out of control? 

“Stakes aren’t high, babe,” he walked over and pressed his face into your neck. “Probably won’t see much of it, anyway.” His intentions were probably just sweet and cheeky in a 'can't keep my hands off you' kind of way, but your insecurities really saw their chance and took it.

“That’s the only reason I’m here, isn’t it?” You knew it. You fucking knew it. It took everything you had to not burst into tears; they already burned behind your eyes. 

“Are you kidding me? I like you!” Mike looked at you, entirely confused - the only thing missing were cartoon question marks over his head. You scoffed and rolled your eyes. How many times had you heard that before? Mike closed the distance between the two of you and took your face in his hands. “I don’t take girls I don’t like out on dates, Dani.” He looked at you, brows furrowed, one side raised. And that smile. You couldn’t tear your eyes away from his lips, your thoughts went from “punch” to “kiss” and back again so fast it gave you an emotional whiplash. 

Your voice was barely more than a whisper when you finally said something: “You’re not exactly taking me out, now are you?” Fuck, you could just about kill him right now. It wasn’t that you had an issue with hooking up, absolutely not, but you did have a problem with being led on. 

“Woah, okay, back up.” He put his hands on your shoulders and stepped away from you. “So we agree that this,” he gestured at the both of you, “is a date?” 

You snorted derisively. “I’ll agree that I thought this was a date, until about two minutes ago.” 

Mike breathed in deeply, his head fell back and you could practically see him count to ten. 

“Okay, we agree that when you stepped through this door, like, two hours ago, you thought this was a date, then?” The way he held you messed with your head; at arm's length, hands heavy on your shoulders. Intimate, but distant... You just nodded in reply to this question. 

“And so did I. Still do.” He said it so matter-of-factly that you almost laughed. When he took another deep breath, it seemed like he had a better handle on himself than before. 

“Okay, so I mentioned taking you out on a date, and you said that this wasn’t ‘out’,” he thought about that for a second. “Does that mean that you think this is the only time we’ve been together that the word date could refer to?” 

“Mike, could you fucking stop treating this like a programming issue?” It was your turn to grow impatient. 

“How is this not like a programming issue?” He retorted. “If I don’t get the output I’m after, something’s gotta be wrong with the input. Just… Humor me, okay?” You rolled your eyes.

“Alright: yes. Mostly because you asked me out two days ago, and I haven’t seen you since.” 

“Okay, I see,” Mike grinned. God, how that annoyed you right now. “Dani, when I asked you if you wanted to go to the movies with me, and you said yes, and we, y’know… Went.” Oh Jesus. “I meant for that to be a date. I’m sorry if I wasn’t clear about that.”

You tried to convince yourself that this could have happened to anyone. It had happened to you, but it could have been anyone. Ariel and Sloane would have a field day if they heard this. Despite that, you were still going to tell them. Mike looked at you questioningly. 

“You didn’t kiss me or anything,” you murmured, while you looked at the floor.

“Too nervous,” he chuckled, “that’s what I tried to make up for when you came in.” The distance between your bodies got smaller as you stepped forward, your arms reaching for him, and pulling him in. Strong arms wrapped around you and squeezed gently. With a sigh, you let yourself be enveloped by the warmth of his body. 

“See,” he said softly, his head buried in your neck, “fix the input, get the right output. Programming issue.” 

“Damn, computer nerd,” you laughed as you nudged him with your shoulder as best you could. All of a sudden, he put his hands back on your shoulders and pushed you away. For a second, you were afraid you had offended him with the nerd-remark, but then you saw his face. On it, was hands down the dirtiest fucking grin you had ever seen in your life. He licked his lips - you had to choke back a moan when he did: it was so incredibly sexy.

“What?” You asked, but he just looked at you. “Mike, what the fuck is going on?” 

“You hooked up with me on what you thought was our first date.” There were three options: you were losing your mind, needed glasses, or he found that thought very entertaining. 

Your cheeks burned, and you were sure he could tell. He followed up on his observation with a single word that set every nerve in your body on edge: “Hot.” 

The kiss that followed ended way too soon. When he let go of you and stepped away, you noticed it was quite cold. You made your way over to the bed so you could get back under the covers, but Mike grabbed your waist when you passed him and grinned at you. The sudden touch - and the cold - made you shiver. You looked up when Mike chuckled. His eyes summarized him perfectly: horny and cheeky.

“Well, I’m going to take a shower…” You didn’t need much time to pick up on that hint.

The bathroom wasn’t big, but it was nicer than you’d expected. You didn’t realize you were looking around with an open mouth until Mike pointed it out. 

“It’s just so… clean.” It was nothing like the student bathrooms you were familiar with - especially not the ones in houses with only men living in them. Or mostly men - or any men. Hell, your own bathroom - and your house was all girls - was messier than this. If by messy you meant: ‘regularly looked like someone bombed a Sephora’. You just couldn’t connect the state of the room to the idea that it was shared by four guys. 

“I am one hundred percent sure August will commit bloody fucking murder if we make a mess of this place,” Mike laughed, as he turned the water on, “and I’m about eighty percent convinced that Sherlock won’t think twice to help him cover it up.” 

“These guys sound colorful,” you said hesitantly, not quite sure what to make of the remark. 

“Oh, things get interesting, for sure,” his laugh echoed a lot less now that the water was running, “but I don’t really want to talk about my roommates right now, if you don’t mind.” 

“Well, what did you want to talk about, then?” The whole false naivety schtick worked very well on Mike, you noticed, as you closely watched his reaction to your doe-eyed coyness. He stepped around you, with his signature playful laugh on his face, and reached out to lock the door. In the meantime, you let your sweatpants drop to the floor. Luckily, his t-shirt was long enough to cover you up - you knew you wouldn’t be wearing it for much longer, but it was nice to not be completely exposed. 

“I wasn’t planning on talking much, ba-” the shape of his mouth changed from the interrupted a into a silent o. As his eyes changed and his mouth morphed - once again - into a devilish smirk, you were certain that this mischievous piece of work would be the death of you. 

“I think that’s mine.” He said dryly, holding out his hand to signal that he wanted his t-shirt back. Now that you no longer felt in control, shyness started to set in. Your fingers rolled the hem of the fabric between them, and it suddenly felt extremely hot in the room. He noticed - of course he noticed! It’s Mike, and he noticed things nobody noticed. As far as he was concerned, it wasn’t always a fair trade against missing things no one else missed. That’s what he’d told you right after you had asked him why he was like that - he had quoted Awolnation’s Sail1 by means of an answer. 

“C’mon beautiful, I want that back,” he grinned, his tongue darting briefly, wetting his lips. The only thing you could think about was the way he called you beautiful, and the hungry look in his eyes. Very slowly, and as sensually as you could manage, you started to undress. Your fingers trailed your thighs, your hips, your stomach, to finally linger at your chest before pulling the shirt over your head and tossing it to him. Before he could get to you, you stepped into the shower. 

“Your turn,” you giggled softly, and blew him a kiss. 

It took him less than ten seconds to join you. Hands wrapped around your waist and spun you around so fast that you were sure you'd both slip and fall. When you didn’t, you looked at the non-slippery floor in surprise. 

“One of us almost broke his neck once,” Mike said while running a hand through his hair, “and we tend to learn from past mistakes.” 

“And this guy,” you laughed, “did he happen to be you?” 

“I can neither confirm nor deny that.” His face told you more than enough. Even with his hair all wet, and in this horrible bathroom lighting, Mike was cute. The horrible lighting probably wasn’t something you should have thought about. Why did it have to be so bright? And there was nowhere to hide! You looked around, almost frantically. There was one place to hide, or at least conceal most of your body from his sight. You leaned into his body, and he wrapped his arms around you, pulling you even closer. He was hard, and the feeling of his cock against your body made you wince. 

“Sorry, baby,” he apologized, “can’t help it. You’re just so fucking gorgeous.” The way he said it was so sincere, so reassuring, that you finally allowed yourself to relax and melt into his embrace. The heat of the water running over your back really helped. You traced the muscles of his back for a while, and he moaned quietly at your touch. After some time, you moved your hands to his chest, resulting in a groan that sounded almost offended. 

“Sorry, my hands are getting a little cold,” you said without thinking about it. 

“Imagine how my back feels,” he retorted. You must have looked really guilty, because his signature grin broke through the almost cynical mask on his face and he laughed. “It’s okay, baby, I would’ve said something if it wasn’t.” He cupped your face in his hands and kissed you. There was a rough edge to it that made your heart pound in your chest - a roughness that hadn’t been there before. For the second time today, you could hardly believe what this guy did to you. Mike was grinding against you as his mouth left yours and dipped into your neck, instead. Your fingers snaked into his hair and pulled him closer while he licked and nipped at the skin of your neck, sucking the most sensitive spots. He occasionally moved up to moan into your ear, and it drove you absolutely wild. Hot water, cold air, soft lips - there were plenty of sensations to choose from, and they all seemed to turn you on one way or another. You both let your hands wander over each other's bodies while entangled in that very wet kiss. Shocked by your own initiative, you reached a hand between your bodies and wrapped your fingers around him. Mike’s mouth found yours again and he turned both of you around so he could lean back against the wall. You stroked him a couple of times, chuckling softly as he moaned into your ear. It felt great, seeing him like this. He sucked your bottom lip in between his teeth. 

“No, keep going,” he groaned into your mouth when your hand stopped moving. You pulled your lip free from his grip and moved to his ear. He shivered when you licked his earlobe, and you felt his cock twitch in your hand. 

“Is it good?” You whispered. 

“Mhm,” he nodded, “very.” You kissed his neck below his ear, then his jaw, his throat. The sound he made when he realized where you were headed2 was charmingly depraved - you couldn’t smile any wider if you tried. Unfortunately, you hadn’t thought this all the way through; the shower floor was rough on your knees, but you figured you’d just have to suck it up3. The bigger problem was the water: most of it came down straight on your head right now, and it made the task at hand4 significantly more difficult. Luckily, Mike reached up to solve this little problem. Part of you expected him to hog all the water and leave you there, freezing, but he didn’t - you decided that these levels of consideration deserved a reward. He struggled to keep quiet as you dragged your tongue all the way along his length. It seemed less scary now. You easily settled on the comfortable depth and rhythm you had before - with similar reactions from Mike - yet something in the back of your mind encouraged you to take it a bit further. Slowly, carefully, you took more of him into your mouth. It wasn’t easy, but the ecstatic squeal that Mike let out made it more than worth it.

“Fuck,” he breathed so softly that you could barely hear him over the sound of the water. You could tell he was trying really hard to stay still, which was very much appreciated. It was already difficult enough to focus on not choking without having to worry about him bruising the back of your throat. His ragged breathing and the slew of profanity that erupted from him as your lips finally reached the base of his cock were beginning to make you feel very good about yourself. You should have known - right when everything seems to go well, tragedy strikes. 

“Hey, lovebirds, get out of the fuckin’ shower!” The voice appeared suddenly, accompanied by the slamming of a fist against the door - hard. Twice - and it startled both of you. Mike’s brilliant reflexes made him jerk his hips, which hurt - like a bitch, by the way - and made you gag. Your reaction, however, was far worse. As soon as you could, you let go of him and curled up on the floor in the opposite corner of the shower, making yourself as small as possible. Sloane’s hysterical laughter echoed through your head already. How exactly were you going to tell them this? We were getting it on in the shower and I was going down on him and it was going remarkably well, until his roommate knocked on the door and startled me so much I bit him, or something? Actually, that was probably exactly what you were going to tell them - before dying of embarrassment, that is.

“Sy, fuck off,” Mike yelled back through gritted teeth. That name sounded strangely familiar to you, you just couldn’t figure out why. Not that you were really trying to. “I swear to God, I’m going to fucking kill you!” He turned his attention to you, pulling you into his arms. You hadn’t even noticed him getting down onto the floor with you. “Dani, are you okay? Did I hurt you?” It was nice to rest your head against his chest. 

“You’re asking me?” It sounded like a bad joke. “What about you?”

“I’m fine, come here.” He chuckled. “You never answered me.”

“Mortified, but not hurt,” you declared in a surprisingly upbeat way. 

“Noted,” Mike nodded, “then, if neither of us are hurt, do I have your permission to find this whole thing fucking hilarious?”

“Maybe tomorrow,” you said, but you were already laughing. 

Mike owned a suspiciously large amount of pillows - for a man, anyway. He’d tossed all of them into the corner, and then he’d grabbed you and sent you flying the same way like it was absolutely nothing. Now, you were curled up beside him with your head on his shoulder while you played with his hair. It was still damp from the shower. 

“So, who else lives here,” you were already pretty anxious about running into any of the guys in the house tomorrow morning - to the point of wanting to escape out the window in the middle of the night. 

“Alright,” Mikey smiled, “no need to be nervous. They’re all great guys!” You hid your face in his shoulder, embarrassed at how he always just knew. Maybe you were just anxious a lot, that was entirely thinkable. You didn’t get a lot of time to think that through - and you probably shouldn’t have wanted to, anyway - because Mike continued: “You’ve met Marshall - eh, Walter. We usually use his last name. Criminology major.” He paused again, trying to organize his thoughts. 

“Ok, on the ground floor, we have Napoleon. We usually call him Leon - you get why. Does something along the lines of Business Administration, with a minor in Art History.” Art history - not immediately something you had expected to come across in a house like this. 

“First floor: Marshall. And then Walker, eh, I mean: August. Third year Political Science with a minor in Criminal Justice." 

"The guy who would kill you for making a mess of the bathroom." 

"I feel Walker would kill me for a bunch of reasons…" Something about the way he said it made you wonder whether or not Mike was joking. You couldn’t help but point out that this Walker guy didn’t sound very nice. 

"Nah! He's great! Very consistent, I like it. He's a good time when he's drunk." 

"He sounds like a jerk, Mike."

"And he kinda is, but he also isn't." He laughed at the puzzled look on your face. " He’s complicated. You'll see what I mean."

"I'll take your word for it. Who's next?"

"Charles Brandon, he…" Mike's eyebrows shot up when you interrupted him. 

"Ladies man, very much opposed to the concept of monogamy. Little respect for other people's relationships. Does that cover it?" 

"Just about. He majors in Political Science, same year as Walker, and he's very good friends with the dean's son," Mike continued the profile, "He's a great wingman, too." He added thoughtlessly. 

"Don't need to know, Mikey!" You shoved him so hard he almost fell over.

"Ow! Sorry! Second floor; Geralt. Majors in Mythology and Folklore. And then Sy, the guy who…”

“Made me almost bite your dick off?” A sarcastic laugh escaped from your throat. You absolutely dreaded meeting this guy; he was already responsible for one of the most awkward moments of your life - so far - and you still couldn’t shake the thought that his name sounded very familiar. 

“Yup,” Mike laughed, “he’s cool though. Not a great wingman, had a habit of stealing my chicks... OW! Would you stop that, I’m just joking.”

“Are you?” You hated when the insecurities hit you like this. 

“Well, mostly. Trust me, I don’t miss striking out at the bar.”

“Do you miss… not striking out?” You looked at Mike, waiting for him to say ‘no’. 

“That sounds like a trap, I’m not going to answer that.” Smart man. You shrieked when he tickled you. “Anyway, that’s Sy. Then upstairs; Sherlock. Holmes. Third year Law and second year Philosophy, last thing I heard he was also taking some classes in Psychology. He’s not even nineteen, by the way.” It took you a while to process all of that. You had enough trouble with one major, let alone two. And did Mikey just say this guy was not only your age, but two years above you? Mike saw your face, and laughed. “He’s a genius.” 

“I think I’ve heard of him,” you said. You weren’t quite sure where you’d heard the name before, but it was unusual enough that you remembered it very distinctly. 

Mike’s next sentence cleared up that confusion: “Oh, and he’s the first violinist of the university orchestra. He and the second violinist, Elena - I actually just saw her for the first time - practice together every Saturday afternoon. He usually starts in the morning, though, but I’ve asked him to keep it down.” 

“And he said he would?” Sherlock sounded like the friendliest guy in the house so far.

“Oh, yeah, he never makes a point of it when we ask. But we let him have the two or so days before a concert, that’s the deal.” 

“So, with seven other guys in the house, he never gets to really play?” You wondered out loud. 

“Oh, no, you’re safe until about eleven. But he’s good, a billion times better than any alarm. I stopped asking him to keep it quiet for anything other than a potential hangover a long time ago.”

“But you did ask him just now?”

“Yeah, for you. Didn’t want it to wake you up if you didn’t want that.” He presses a kiss on your hair. You buried your face in his neck, in hopes of hiding the fact that you were blushing like crazy, but you were well aware that Mike was onto you.

“And the girl? Are they, like, together?” You never imagined that you’d be so invested in the goings-on in this house.  

“We don’t know for sure. Leon keeps track of the bets. I’m pretty sure all of us are in on one of those, at least. I believe I’m out twenty if he doesn’t sleep with her by Christmas.” Ah, there it was: The kind of stuff you expected from a house like this. You rolled your eyes and pulled the comforter snugly around you as Mike put on the movie you’d settled on. 

Walking into that kitchen was definitely one of the scarier things you’d ever done. Luckily, there was only one person in it when you and Mikey got there. His appearance was striking, with the silvery hair and very light-brown eyes that were almost the color of honey.

“Morning,” the guy said stoically when you walked in, and he put the newspaper he was reading down on the table. 

“Danielle, Geralt. Geralt, Danielle.” You were really grateful that Mike took care of the introductions. “Coffee, Dani? G?” Both of you nodded. The kitchen was big and bright, and looked well taken care of. You noticed that the appliances weren’t falling apart like they were at your house. 

“You can sit down, I don’t bite my roommates' girlfriends,” Geralt said dryly. 

“Just your own?” It was out before you even realized you opened your mouth in the first place. You were about ready to sink into a hole in the floor when Geralt laughed. He didn’t get a chance to answer, because someone else stepped into the kitchen. 

“Damn, Mikey, she might actually be able to survive this circus!” How many Brits lived in this house? And why did all of these guys look like they had run away from the covers of magazines? The guy in question turned around to you: “Charles, nice to meet you.”

“Hi, I’m…” 

“Danielle. The girl who stole my wingman.” He extended a hand to you, and you took it with the intention to shake it. Instead, he brought it to is lips and placed a soft kiss on the back of your hand. 

“Hands off, Brandon,” Mike slapped him against the back of his head with a teatowel. “And take Leon, if you need a wingman so badly.”

“Leon doesn’t need a wingman, girls flock to him offering services in exchange for a discount.” Charles started laughing, while your confusion grew. 

“And some of those girls, I sent to you,” a new voice retorted. The kitchen was quickly becoming crowded. “Or to Mikey.” You saw Mike make a not-so-subtle gesture in your direction to signal the newcomer - whom you guessed had to be Napoleon - to shut up. 

“I’m sorry, didn’t see you there. Napoleon, call me Leon.” He actually shook your hand. “If you ever need anything, term paper, answers to a test, talk to Mikey.” He laughed. This guy was dangerously charming. 

“Thanks, but I don’t suck dick for good grades.” 

“Well, maybe computer science,” Mikey said with a wink. You stared at him, unable to believe he just threw you in front of the bus like that - careful not to let your mouth fall open: you were sure it would look even weirder than it already did. Luckily, Geralt caught your distress and kicked Mike in the shins. 

“Thanks, I couldn’t reach.” You said sourly while Geralt grinned and the rest laughed. Mike put two cups of coffee on the table and sat next to you. Charles took the last cup from the pot and left the kitchen with it.

“No coffee?” you asked Mike. 

“Not if I want to stay awake,” he laughed. When you looked at him funny, he pointed at his head. “My wacky brain,” was the only explanation he offered, and then he shrugged. Leon took it upon himself to make a new pot of coffee. 

“Walker here?” A somewhat familiar voice sounded from just outside the kitchen. It belonged to Walter Marshall, whom you had met when you arrived yesterday. 

“Don’t think he will be,” Geralt answered. You noticed that his voice startled you - despite having heard it before. It seemed to go against some law of nature for him to speak. 

“How so?” Mike was often a tad too curious, but this time you didn’t mind - it sounded like there was some kind of drama here, and you were invested already. 

“Anjelica showed up.” For anyone who lived here - or anyone else who knew who Anjelica was and what she was to August Walker, that was enough information. Mike turned his head to you. 

“Girlfriend,” he said plainly, and you figured you could fill in the rest. 

“Not if you ask him,” Leon scoffed. He leaned casually against the counter, waiting for the coffee to brew. 

“He loves her,” Geralt interjected dryly, as if that settled the matter. 

“You hear anything?” Mike asked with a filthy grin on his face. 

“I hear everything, Mikey,” Geralt sighed. Your eyes went wide and your face turned red. Leon and Marshall laughed when they saw it; Mike tried to grab your hand off your knee, but you pulled it away. 

“Ooh,” Leon and Marshall sounded at the same time. Leon murmured something along the lines of ‘someones in trouble’, while Marshall slapped the back of Mike’s head and told him: “You tell a girl about the roommate with the super senses before things get serious, Mikey.” 

“What are they talking about, Mike?” You hissed at him, absolutely beyond furious. From the corner of your eye, you saw Leon pour himself a cup of coffee, before holding the pot up to Marshall, who nodded, but didn’t dare speak - they were a little too keen to see how this would play out. 

“I can hear Sherlock play the violin,” Geralt said calmly, “he’s three floors up, and using a practice mute.” You were just about ready to slap Mike in the face and storm off; this was definitely something he could have shared before all of yesterday happened. 

“It’s exhausting enough as is, so believe me when I say I don’t listen to everything.” He still wasn’t looking up from his newspaper. “Besides; if something is ever… repeatedly annoying…” he chose this time to shoot a meaningful look your way, “Let me put it this way: I’m sure it’s not the reason headphones were invented, but I thank my lucky stars every fucking day that they were.” Now all five of you burst out in laughter. Leon hurried to answer the door the second the doorbell rang, and didn’t return. It wasn’t long, though, before another housemate walked through the door.

“Marshall.”

“Walker.” Ah. The infamous August Walker finally made an appearance. He turned to you as soon as he set foot in the kitchen.

“You must be Danielle,” he said, “nice to meet you.” Whether he assumed you knew his name, or simply didn’t care if you did, you didn’t - and couldn’t - know. He grabbed the coffee pot off the counter, only to find it empty. “Oh for fuck’s sake,” he muttered under his breath. 

“Better make plenty, Sherlock’s on his way down and Sy just woke up. And I could do with another cup, too, if you don’t mind.” Geralt said. 

“Then why, pray tell, don’t you do this?” August hissed as he turned the kettle on.

“Alright, I could use a second cup as well, but now I know better than to ask you for anything in the morning, so why don’t you move out of the way and let me do it?” You shocked yourself; you were never this forward. Geralt made a half-attempt to hide his impressed smirk behind his paper, while Marshall and Mike didn’t try at all. Even August had trouble keeping his face in check - unsurprising, it had to be exhausting to frown that goddamn much.

“Charles was right,” Gerald chuckled, “you might be able to survive this circus.”

“The biggest clown is already mine,” you sighed as you got up and waved at August to get out of your way. The boys - including Mike - laughed. 

“Is there any coffee left,” someone asked. The voice was soft and polite, and sounded like its owner was in desperate need of coffee. 

“Coming up!” You said cheerfully as you pressed the button on the coffee maker. 

“First time here and they already put you to work?” 

“A girl’s gotta do what a girl’s gotta do if she wants coffee,” you laughed, “and I couldn’t ask Mike to do it. His coffee is terrible.” Geralt and Marshall raised their cups in agreement while Walker murmured ‘Amen’. Sherlock chuckled, somehow sounding a lot like a British version of Mike. The five of you drank your coffee mostly in silence. After August had finished drinking his, he made a cup of tea. On his way out of the kitchen with it, he was almost knocked over by Mike as he went to take some orange juice from the fridge. 

“Sorry, Walker!” He said. August just mumbled something unintelligible as he went back upstairs. Mike shrugged and put the carton to his lips. You weren’t surprised that this was a habit of his, but you’d expected more protest from the other guys.

“We tried,” Sherlock answered your question - nevermind that you hadn’t actually asked it, “he just gets his own carton, now.”

“You’ll get used to the unusual communication,” a female voice said, “Anjelica Madden, hi!” She greeted you with a hug. “Sherlock, Geralt, Marshall and August you don’t even have to ask anything once,” this woman was awfully cheerful in the morning, “but Charles, Sy, Leon and that dork over there you have to ask everything twice, so it evens out.” She disappeared about as quickly and suddenly as she had appeared. 

“Speaking of Sy, he’s taking his sweet time,” Marshall noted. 

“Probably taking a shower,” Sherlock responded, “I understand it was occupied for quite some time yesterday.” Geralt, Marshall and Mike looked at each other in surprise. It wasn't like Sherlock to say things like that.

“And on a similar note,” Mike laughed, “have any of us won any bets yet?”

“I heard her leave, so my guess would be ‘no’,” Marshall added. 

“You would be correct,” Sherlock muttered. All of a sudden, he looked so much younger than the rest of the guys in the kitchen.

“Will she be here after lunch, though?” Mike asked curiously as he got up and turned to you. “Breakfast?”

“I have no reason to assume the contrary.” Sherlock replied dryly. 

“There’s food in the house?” You exclaimed quasi-surprised.

“There better be, I’m starvin’,” a familiar voice sounded behind you. Finally, now that you weren’t concerned that you had maimed Mike, you recognized the voice. Your legs felt like they were made of lead when you turned around while praying it wasn’t true. Unfortunately, when you finally looked up at the man who had just spoken, your suspicions were confirmed. 

“Ari, help!” You groaned into the phone as soon as Ariel had picked up. 

“Dan, what’s up?”

“I met his housemates - all of them, it was an experience, holy shit, more on that later. But, bitch, I…”

You heard some mumbling in the background - it was probably Sloane. 

“Girl, Slo is here, I’m putting you on speaker.”

“Hey babe!”

“Slo, oh my god, sit down. Ari, you too. Remember the guy from orientation?” There was no point in drawing this out any longer; you had to tell them. 

“You mean your spectacular Southern stud, the Don of dinner down there? The prince of pussy eating perfection?” Sloane yelled in your ear. 

“Enough with the alliterations, S.,” Ari laughed, “clearly, we remember. What about him?” How were they not connecting the dots on this? Normally, you were the one who was slow to pick up on these things. 

“Nathan motherfucking Syverson is one of Mike’s goddamn roommates.” You felt like you were about to cry. It stayed awfully quiet on the other end of the line. 

“So, red or white?” Ari asked in a deviously perky tone. You could hear Sloane’s muffled laughter in the background. 

“Red,” you sighed.

 

A/N: Whoops, some footnotes. 1: “Blame it on my ADD” is the line we're talking about... 2: Pun intended 3: Pun not intended. Happy accident. I promise 4: I am so sorry

#179 crescent street #henry cavill fanfiction #mike (hellraiser) #mike (hellraiser) x ofc #henry cavill characters #mike hellraiser smut #captain syverson #hc sherlock #napoleon solo #august walker #geralt of rivia #walter marshall #charles brandon #mike hellraiser fanfiction #179cs #179cs3

[msfbgraves]

After watching "Band of Brothers", and suddenly acquiring a taste for heroic company leaders guiding their men through battle ("F*** yeah! Tactics!") I wanted to see something like that from the German side, and remembered "Hey! Wasn't Wilhelm in "Generation War"* a company leader?" I mean, I would have watched the battle for the Grebbeberg - the only position in The Netherlands where the Dutch Army withstood the Wehrmacht effectively during the Nazi invasion - but we haven't made that movie, somehow. Too expensive, no doubt. So, time to see what it might have been like for my German grandfather in Russia instead, forced to enlist all of 17 years old. Was he Nazi? He was too young to vote for them, had he wanted to, but was raised by them during his entire adolescence. So here we see a boy his age, Friedhelm, sent to fight for Führer and Fatherland, and well, I wanted some scenes of camaraderie, not gonna lie. But what immediately struck me...

That scene in Band of Brothers where the German officer praises his men is all well and good but the reality this German series shows is much closer to what I've heard family talk about, and compared to the American series it is quite chilling.

First - nobody enlisted completely voluntarily. You could choose to become SS special forces, but you would have had to really have drunk the genocidal koolaid and I know many hadn't. So, like, morale outside of there? Decidedly lower. Secondly, this was a dictatorship. Which means you're constantly in danger from your own company. Anyone who disliked you could call you defeatist and have court marshalled for that reason alone. Thirdly, there was no safe home front, either, because dictatorship. "Loose lips sink ships"? (OK now, in Germany that was a positive in the U Boat war, but I digress...) Loose lips could get your sister killed, if she repeated anything and was hanged for "Wehrkraftzersetzung" (mental sabotage). Nice. Plus everything is still rationed. And then there's all the war crimes you get to facilitate when the SS comes to town. Also minefields.

Of course Opa didn't refuse being sent to Austria to study when he was wounded in Russia. It was probably the furthest you could get away from Nazi doctrine, and there is no "getting back to your buddies" when your buddy might be more dangerous to you than an enemy sniper. I'm sure they also bonded, but unless you were a sadist, I think there was absolutely nothing to fight for.

No wonder the only actual camaraderie was on a submarine. You can't shoot your crewmate for being defeatist, you'll drown. And no SS roping you into war crimes for the glory of the Third Reich until you get desensitised.

The Allied and the German soldiers fought very different wars.

*Unsere Mütter, unsere Väter - our mothers, our fathers

#hbo war #generation war #das boot #personal