#arthur IS his light his hope his fucking everything

[ladcedes]

melodrama

charles leclerc x musical theatre actress!reader, social media!au

summary a melodrama is defined as a dramatic piece with exaggerated characters and plot-lines that play to the audience’s emotions. when charles leclerc dates a queen of drama, there is bound to be some that seeps into his life.

notes yes, the title was from the lorde album. warning, google translated french

the anniversary posts

yourusername

Liked by lilymhe and 582.382 others

yourusername mon amour ❤️ i never could’ve imagined that i would spend 5 years with you… and i never imagined that i could find someone so amazing, who could make me feel like the most spectacular person in the world, the most special girl, yet also remind me of how human i am and how i’m allowed to be only human. you always manage to whisk me away from the pressures of life, push everything away, and make it feel like it’s just us in this world. you, my darling, are the comfort and calm of my soul. with you forever by my side, i can face anything

view 366 replies

12 March 2023

arthur_leclerc i can't believe it's been 5 years since you two started being publicly insufferable

⤷ charles_leclerc nous t'aimons aussi, arthur 🙄🙄🙄 (we love you, too, arthur)

carmenmmundt congrats on 5 years and cheers to many more!!

⤷ yourusername thank you love! ❤️

f1wagsite the caption is too sweet im jealous

⤷ ynfans2023 literally their relationship makes me wanna go in the bathtub with my hairdryer

charles_leclerc

Liked by alex_albon and 906.438 others

charles_leclerc always the light on my darkest days, my sunshine when it rains, melting away all my worries and doubts, always bringing me up from the lowest of low points. you are my courage and strength. you shine so brightly that you light up everything around you, including myself. you bring out the best in me and love even the worst. you give warmth to the deepest corners of my soul. with you, i’m the best and most natural version of myself. these 5 years together have been the best years of my life, i wish i had met you sooner. even eternity isn’t enough to be with you, mon étoile ❤️

view 523 replies

12 March 2023

lewishamilton congratulations guys ❤️

pierregasly congrats on 5! so where's the ring mate? 😂😂

⤷ alexalbon seconding this 😂😂

⤷ hamilfans pierre?? ALEX?? do they know something we don't or are they playing??

valenciacia the caption??? ME WHENNN 😭😭😭😭😭

⤷ f1girliee RIGHTT like "even eternity isn't enough to be with you"???? i'm going crazy.

⤷ leclercwdc i'm about to go take a bath with my toaster rn

charles_leclerc posted • 8/2/2023 | yourusername posted • 2/3/2023

charles_leclerc

Liked by pierregasly and 867.338 others

charles_leclerc my favourite actress ❤️ unbelievably proud of you, mon cherie @yourusername.

to be blessed with the love of such a hard-working, talented actress is an honour. you performed amazingly tonight and every other night before.

11 February 2023

view 406 comments

yourusername charlie you are such a sap (i love you so much)

⤷ charles_leclerc only for you darling (i love you more)

itsnessa they make me believe in love

⤷ loveleclerc real i don't know what i would do if they broke up

⤷ wdcleclerc i think i would lose hope in love

44britcedes my fav couple 🫶🫶🫶

yourusername

Liked by charles_leclerc and 724.198 others

yourusername all's well that ends well

3 May 2023

view 698 comments

myagramm is the ring on yn's finger a new addition orrrr

⤷ pierregasly i guess we found where the ring is

⤷ leclercism beating the breakup allegations with marriage allegations. only them.

⤷ myagramm PIERRE?? HELLO???

httpsainz is that ring what i think it is

solarpiastri im actually crying they rlly said fuck the break up rumours and decided to start up engagement rumours instead

a/n: might make a part 2 if i feel like it in like 5 months

#f1 #formula 1 #cl16 #charles leclerc #formula one #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc fluff #charles leclerc fanfic #charles leclerc x you #pierre gasly #f1 smau #f1 social media au #charles leclerc social media au #charles leclerc smau #charles leclerc angst #charles leclerc x reader angst #charles leclerc x reader fluff #formula one x reader #f1 fanfiction #charles leclerc one shot

[neymarsangel]

Best friends' brother - Charles Leclerc x reader

Charles Leclerc x female!reader

Summary: You and Arthur Leclerc had been best friends since you were children but it wasn’t the younger Leclerc brother you’d be in the sheets with and a one night stand can hold a lifetime of regret.

Warnings: Mentions of smut, pregnancy, swearing, angst, fluff

Word Count: 4.1K

—

Your heart pounded in your chest as you held onto the pregnancy test. It was one stupid mistake, one stupid, drunk mistake. Charles had finally won in Monaco for the first time which meant the celebrations would last until the sun came up. You and Arthur attended together; you just didn’t leave together. You and Charles evidently spent a lot of time with one another, especially when Arthur was racing. The pair of you would spend hours talking and enjoying one another's presence. You couldn’t lie to yourself that Charles wasn’t attractive, and he evidently thought the same about you. He’d always leave light touches on your waist and his eyes would linger on you just a little too long, yet nothing ever came out of it. Neither you or he would make a move or even mention it, you just acted like everything was normal, that was until the celebrations. 

Everything was fine until you lost Arthur. You scanned the club to find him but you were found by the older Leclerc. His eyes locked onto yours as he snuck his hand around your waist, pulling you into his side. He leant down, his eyes still on you as he held you tighter before connecting his lips to yours. You didn’t hesitate, not caring if anyone was watching you two from afar. He dragged you to his hotel room and the rest was history well… so you thought. 

The next morning you woke up to a number of missed calls from Arthur and a sleeping Charles beside you. You left faster than he could drive but part of you wanted to stay, you wished you could have spent the morning in his arms but for Arthurs sake you simply couldn’t. Since that day you’d avoided Charles like the plague although that was easier said than done, especially as he was your best friends' brother, but you managed. That was until Arthur started to notice. 

“y/n?” Arthurs voice filled your flat. Your eyes snapped up from the test in your hands and towards the door. He burst through your bedroom door just as you slipped the test under the duvet. “Where have you been?” He arched his brows, a slightly annoyed expression on his face. 

“I haven’t been feeling well.” Technically that wasn’t a lie. “So I’ve just stayed at home -”

“You’ve never been away from my races, even when you’re ill.”

You shrugged, not wanting to look at him for two long. “I couldn’t stop throwing up, can’t exactly turn up to a race like that.”

“Why didn’t you call me? I could have come round and looked after you. You always looked after me when I was ill.” He smirked, the annoyed expression leaving his face as he moved to sit beside you. Your heart dropped as he sat beside you, hoping he wouldn’t feel the test he was sitting on but your luck didn’t go that far. He rose to his feet once again, scrunching his face up as he pulled the duvet back to see what he’d sat on. 

“Arthur -”

“What the fuck is this?” He snatched the test and held it up. “Is this a…?”

“Yes…” 

He looked down at the test, checking the result. 

Positive. 

“Is this why you’ve been avoiding me?” His eyes met yours. “Because you’re fucking pregant and didn’t want me finding out?” 

“I just found out Arthur!” You found your voice. “Look I just felt sick so I stayed away thinking it was a bug and then my period was late so I had to check…”

“Who’s the dad?” 

He asked the one question you forever wished you could avoid. 

You didn’t answer, your eyes welling up with tears when you knew you had to answer his question. It wouldn’t be hard to lie to him but everything would come to light and you knew it. Charles was his brother and even if you lied to Charles he would know that it was his kid. It was like the universe wanted you to suffer even more because before you could answer him a sudden knock at the door grabbed your attention. 

“Bet that’s the dad.” Arthur said, no emotion in his voice as he went to answer the door. “So what is he a secret boyfriend you’ve kept from me?” He looked back at you before he opened the door only to be met with the worried expression of his older brother. 

“Is y/n here?” Charles asked just as you walked up behind his brother. 

Arthurs eyes squinted at his brother, his face going back to its confused expression. “Why are you here?” 

“Arthur!” You snapped at your best friend. 

Charles coughed nervously as he looked between the two of you. He’d always wondered if something was secretly happening with the two of you but the night you’d slept with him confirmed to him that you were all his well, he wished you were. 

“Just came to see y/n -”

“Why?” Arthur leant against the door, still now allowing his brother to enter your flat. “You see her at the races -”

“That’s the point.” Charles looked at him like he was an idot. “I haven’t seen her since she left mine in Monaco.” Charles didn’t mean to let it slip but it was too late to take it back now. 

“Left yours?” Arthur arched his brow. “What the night of the party?” He quickly looked back at you and then back at his brother as he suddenly connected the dots. 

Ever since the celebrations in Monaco you hadn’t gone near Charles. If he came over to the pair of you in a rare occasion that you had turned up to the track you would always find an excuse to leave before he could utter a word to you. 

Arthur suddenly spun on his heels, looking at you before yelling. “Is it him?” His tone made you jump slightly. “Is he the dad?”

“The dad?” Charles looked over to you before he too connected the dots. “Are you…?”

“It is you!” Arthur turned back to face his brother. “It was the night you won wasn’t it?” 

“Arthur…” Charles went to speak but was suddenly stopped. 

“Everything I have you want, I am always in your shadow and you know that!” Arthur was close to tears himself. “She’s my friend Char not yours…”

“I’m still your friend Arthur, nothings changed -” Your voice was soft but Arthur didn’t care. 

“Yes it has! You went and fucked my brother and now you’re pregnant with his kid!” His eyes filled with tears. “I trusted you y/n, I told you everything about me, we never lie to one another, we made that promise when we were kids… you know how much it hurts to be in his shadow all the time, just once I wanted something for myself, even if that was just a best friend and now I don’t even have that.” He didn’t wait for you or Charles to speak. He shoved Charles out of the way and stormed out of your building.

It was now your turn to cry, not caring if Charles was still in front of you. He didn’t say anything as he pulled you into his chest, his arms wrapped around you as he kissed the top of your head, soothing you as you cried into his shirt. “It’ll be okay.” He mumbled. “I promise you.”

He hated seeing you upset. His feelings for you had grown far beyond a one-night stand or the girl that turned up to every single race, but you were off limits. You were his brother's best friend; someone he knew he could never be with but that didn’t mean he didn’t want to. He would happily let Arthur ignore and hate him for however how long it took just so he could have you.

“No Charles.” You pulled your head back to look up at him. “It won’t be. I can’t break you and Arthur apart, I can’t -”

“You haven’t broken me and Arthur apart, he’ll get over it -”

“No Char he won’t.” You stepped away. “He’s right he’s always been in your shadow. He just wants to race alongside you in Formula 1. He needs you more than he needs me, and I refuse to be the one that breaks that bond between you both. He won’t just get over it, he never just gets over things -”

“Are you trying to tell me you know more about my own brother than I do?”

“Yes I am!”

“Oh come on you just turn up to watch him race every week -”

“That’s a lie and you know it.” You sent a glare in his direction, one he knew he deserved.

“When did you find out?” He changed the subject. 

“Today.” Your eyes met his. “Just before Arthur came over.” You leant against your kitchen sink. “He sat on the test and that’s how he found out.” Your eyes looked over to the test sitting on the kitchen counter that Arthur had dumped as he opened the front door. Charles made his way over to the test, taking it in his hands to see the results for himself.

“I don’t want a kid, not now -”

“You and me both Leclerc but I can’t just get pregant on my own can I?” You ran a hand through your hair. “This was all a mistake, we should have never of spent the night together, if I could take it back then I would.” 

Your words killed him. Sure, he didn’t want a child yet but that didn’t mean he didn’t want one in the future. But he also didn’t want you to regret spending the night with him, for Charles if he could relive the moment again, he would. He wanted it to happen again and again, he even planned to be with you but hide it from Arthur. He had the perfect life with you all planned out in his head but clearly things weren’t meant to be. 

“Do you really mean that?” He looked down at you, fighting back every word he wanted to say. “Would you take everything back? You and I?”

“We would never work Charles. It was never meant to be… it was a bit of fun that went wrong.” Your eyes met his. “Nothing more.”

“Fine.” He nodded, setting the test down. “Are you keeping it?” 

“I don’t know -”

“When you’d made up your mind let me know.” His eyes looked almost glass like as the tears slowly filled his eyes. “If you keep it, I’ll pay child support, but I don’t want anything to do with it.” He left without another word, he hated himself for it.

He didn’t mean it. He wasn’t lying about not wanting a kid now but that didn’t mean he’d want to leave his child without a father and leave you without support. He just knew how stubborn you could be and how you wouldn’t change your mind about walking out on the two of them, so the brothers still had one another. Charles needed time and he knew you needed time too. He planned to find Arthur and tell him how he felt about you, he needed to tell him everything and mend what had been broken to prove to you things can work but you had other plans. You couldn’t break the brothers apart and with you not around you hoped they’d forget about what had happened and move on with their lives. Not wanting to pick between them you got up and left, everything you once owned came with you and you left Monaco. 

It was probably a stupid decision just to pack everything and leave but, in the moment, it felt right and sometimes you just have to go with your gut when it comes to certain things and that was one of those times. You’d moved to England, more specifically a small village in the north of England, hopefully somewhere where no one knew who you were and luckily for you they didn’t.

The village was mainly home to elderly residents and a few small families. It was quiet and out of the way with a good community, the perfect hideaway for you and your son. You now lived in one of the cottages that overlooked the river which flowed through the streets. It was so different to Monaco but in the best way possible. Looking down at your son who was fast asleep in his cot you couldn’t help but regret the words you’d said to Charles. How could you ever regret having your son? 

Charles crossed your mind everyday, so did Arthur but things were for the best. You would secretly look at their Instagram accounts on a burner account and noticed the two posting photos of one another and filming eachother for their stories. They had healed what had happened. Arthur wouldn’t forget what happened but he could forgive his brother with time and it’s clear to see that time healed them both. 

What you didn’t know was that you crossed the brothers minds everyday too. Charles kept a photo of you in his helmet so no matter how far away you really were you would always be close to him. He often found himself wondering if you had a boy or a girl and if they had your eyes or his nose. It pained him more than he thought it ever would seeing other drivers with their children and their wives, he wanted that. 

“If you keep staring you might not ever look away.” Arthur had caught Charles doing just that. He was staring at Checo and his children, smiling at the way he placed his helmet on their tiny heads. 

“You still think she had a girl?” Charles asked his brother. 

“Definetly, you still team boy?”

“I know it’s a boy.” Charles smiled, tearing his attention away from Checo and his family. “It’s been over a year now, if he came on time, he’d be eight months old now.” He looked at Arthur. “I need to find her.”

“We will.” He gave his brother a reassuring smile. “But if y/n doesn’t want to be found, she won’t be. We always said we’d never lie to one another, but she was good at lying, the best poker face I’ve ever seen.” Arthur thought fondly of the memories. If only he could go back and change the past.

“Mr Leclerc?” A voice grabbed the brothers attention. They spun around to meet the eyes of an older woman. She smiled at them both, looking at them as if they were long lost family members. 

“Which one?” Arthur asked. 

“Both of you!” Her voice lit up. “I presume you two know who y/n y/l/n is?” 

Both brothers shared a glance of urgency before looking back at the women before them. “Yes!” They spoke in unison. 

“Good, I thought I’d gotten the wrong sport!” She laughed to herself. 

“What do you know about y/n?” Charles asked, his voice filled with worry. 

“Don’t sound so worried! She’s fine! She’s my neighbour!” The two boys had a million and one questions but the woman beat them to it. “I’m Margaret.” She held her hand out for the two of them to take. “She lives in England. We’ve grown rather close since I’ve been babysitting the little one for her whilst she has some time for herself. She spoke about you two and I knew I recognised your names somewhere. She would kill me if she knew I was here but… I lost the love of my life over a mistake, and I can’t watch her do the same.” 

Margaret was in fact your neighbour. She helped move you into your new home and was also the woman who bought you Leo, your dog. He’d been trained by a local farmer to put your mind at ease whilst you lived alone before your son arrived. Due to her kindness, you often opened up to her about your life. You told her about Arthur and Charles, something you hadn’t told anyone else before. 

Margaret understood your pain as she to lost those close to her. She fell in love with someone she knew her parents would never approve of and instead of standing up for them she let them go, letting the love of her life be belittled by her family and never keeping them close to her and she knew she couldn’t let you do the same thing. 

She told them everything including where you now lived. Charles didn’t waste a second, ignoring the fact that he still had to race that afternoon he threw his helmet to the side, telling Ferrari to tell the press he was sick and needed the reserve driver to take over for this weekend. 

“Are you coming?” Charles called after Arthur as he started to leave the paddock. 

“No.”

“What?” Charles spun around and stopped in his tracks. “Arthur I thought -”

“She needs to see you more than me.” He gave him a light smile. “She had your child, not mine and that kid needs you. Tell her how you feel, not just for her sake but for mine. Fed up with you complaining about how much you like her.” 

Charles pulled his brother into a quick hug. “Thank you.” 

Whilst Charles was on his way to you, you were wrapping up to brace the English autumn weather to take Leo for a walk. You wrapped your son up so he wouldn’t be cold before lowering him into his pram. Leo placed his head onto the pram, looking down at the small boy. Smiling you pet his head as you threw your coat and scarf on. “Good boy.” You praised the dog as you grabbed his lead and harness and leaving the house.

You glanced over at Margaret's cottage yet never saw her in the small front window, knitting away some sort of blanket for your son or even one for Leo. “Must be out.” You muttered to yourself before pushing the pram towards the trail in the woods. You would never get used to a view like this, the way the golden leaves danced through the sky before hitting the ground. It was such a simple sight but after flying from country to country due to the Leclerc brothers you never got to experience anything like this. 

Leaning down slightly you let Leo off the lead when the two of you had entered the woods, letting the dog sprint around to his heart desires but he always kept close to you, just in case. Smiling down at your son you took out your phone to take a photo of the boy. He had his dad’s eyes and your nose. A perfect mix of the two of you. 

“y/n!” A sudden voice grabbed your attention, a voice you knew all too well. Turning around you met the face of Charles Leclerc. He was jogging up to you, something Leo saw as a threat. The German Shepherd dropped his ball and ran towards you, standing in front of you he lunged at Charles, barking and growling at the man before him. 

“Leo down.” You held his harness, pulling him back slightly. The dog stood back but kept his attention onto the stranger ahead of him. 

“Since when did you get a dog?” Charles was breathing heavily, his face terrified of the animal.

“Since I lived alone.” You met his worried gaze. “How did you find me?” 

“I didn’t stop looking since you left, nor did Arthur.” 

“Is he here?”

“No but he’s coming… I promise you he’ll be here.” Your sons cry grabbed your attention, still holding onto Leo you looked back at the boy. 

“Oh baby it’s okay.” Your free hand carefully scooped him up, placing him against your chest you started to rock him back and forth as best you could whilst holding onto your dog so he didn’t attempt murder on Charles. “Shh… shh…”

Charles felt time stop. His heart burting with pride at the sight of the woman he loved his son before him. “Is that -”

“He’s yours Charles.” You smiled at him.

“He?”

“Hmm, you have a son.” 

“Arthur owes me a lot of money.” 

“Sorry?” 

“We had a bet… if he was a girl or a boy, I said boy, he said girl.” 

You arched your brows at the man. “You two haven’t changed.” You looked back at your son. “Do you want to hold him?”

His face softened. “I’d want nothing more.” Charles stepped closer, still weary of your dog as you handed the child to his father. Anyone who walked past the two of you would have thought he’d been there since day one, he was a natural to this. “What did you name him?”

“Rowan.” You smiled, putting Leo back on his lead. “He has your eyes.”

“And your nose.” Charles smiled before he looked back at you. “Why did you leave?”

“You said you didn’t want a baby-”

“That doesn’t mean you had to leave.”

“I didn’t know what to do. You didn’t want to be a part of his life which meant not being a part of mine. Arthur hated me which meant I had lost you both and that was something I couldn’t live with. You know how small Monaco is, I knew I’d see you two at one point and I couldn’t face you two after that so I left. Moved here and now I’m never going back to Monaco, I’m raising Rowan here, I needed a new start and travelling around the world isn’t a life for a child.”

“Then I’ll move here.” His voice was full of urgency. “For over a year I could never stop thinking about you. I have always liked you and I just thought it was because of how you bullied my brother, the way you always knew everything about motorsports, I loved it. It was only when we grew up with one another I knew I loved you. I can’t apologise for everything that happened when you fell pregnant. I should have been with you through the pregnancy, throughout everything. When I said I didn’t want a child, I meant right now. I panicked and when Arthur and I spoke everything through you were already gone.” 

He held his son close to him, holding his right hand out as he balanced Rowan in his left. Taking his hand into yours you stepped closer to him. “I lied to you the last time we spoke.” He was taken back by your words but continued to listen. “I don’t regret spending the night with you, I don’t regret anything we did and I do love you.” 

“Neither do I.” He leant down, placing a kiss on the top of your head. “But now I’m not going anywhere.”

“Good because I really need someone to feed him during the night, he’s teething and I need sleep.” 

Charles laughed, this time dipping his head down to capture your lips into his. The kiss was far overdue. Your lips were sweet against his own, a taste he always wanted to feel. His hand left yours and cupped your cheek, pulling you closer into his chest as best he could without disturbing Rowan. He deepened the kiss as you got closer, his thumb brushing along your bottom lip when you pulled away for a breath. 

“Please never leave again.” He muttered against your soft lips. 

“I won’t.” Your eyes met his. “I promise.” Charles leaned in again but jumped at a sudden loud bark. Leo narrowed his eyes at the brunette, if he could talk you knew he’d yell at Charles like he was a disobedient child. 

“I’m not putting up with him.” Charles backed away from the animal.

“Oh he’s fine.” You dropped to your knees so the dog could rest his head on your chest, wagging his tail a you gave him all the attention in the world. “He just needs to get used to you.”

“Margret never mentioned him…”

“Margret?” You looked up him, curiosity on your face. “How do you know who she is?” 

His eyes widened at his own words. Shit. “Probably shouldn’t have said that…”

#charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc x you #charles leclerc imagine #charles leclerc smut #charles leclerc x oc #f1 x y/n #f1 x oc #f1 x reader #f1 x you #charles leclerc x y/n #charles leclerc fanfic #charles leclerc one shot #charles leclerc drabble #charles leclerc angst #charles leclerc fluff #charles lecrelc #arthur leclerc x reader #arthur leclerc x y/n

[disasterofastory]

Like a father (Arthur Shelby x Reader)

Like a father Arthur Shelby x sister!Reader Warnings: none

Summary: You have a favor to ask Arthur.

The church is quiet and cold. The bench under you is smooth as you press your palms against the wooden surface. Your nails dig into it absently. You don't even notice the motion. Your mind is busy with other things. The altar at the back is old and unkept but still pretty and good enough for next week. Nobody cares about the well-being of an old building in Birmingham, even if it's a church. People here have their own problems. The cross on the wall is tall and sturdy. Jesus looks down on you. Candles burn at his feet.

The door of the building opens and closes with a loud creak and a thud. Your head snaps back over your shoulder. Arthur's tall and lean form gets closer and closer with each step. His eyes seem grey in the dim lights. A few strands of his hair fall out of place as he takes off his cap to place it on his knee when he sits down next to you. "Finn told me you want to talk," he speaks up, breaking the silence. His voice echoes and vibrates. "Are you alright?" "Yeah," you reply. "I'm fine." "Then?" He asks, watching you closely. "You soon-to-be-husband? Do you want me to take care of him?" You can't help but laugh. "No," you smirk, putting your hand on Arthur's to squeeze it. His long fingers curl around yours. "He is still fine." "Good," he grunts. "I want to ask you something," you start with a deep breath. "And I hope you will say yes." The frown that is always on his face deepens. "What is it, Y/N?" "You know I don't even know our father," you tell your brother, who nods in answer. You met him only once when you were little. He was strange and scary. You know he tricked Arthur and made you detest him more. "And my wedding is getting closer." Arthur nods again. "And I want you to walk me down the aisle." The silence that follows your words seems loud. Your brother stares at you, mute and shocked. "Me?" He croaks. "You want me?" A light smile pulls on your lips. "Yes. If you accept it." "But why me?" He asks. "I thought you would ask Tommy to do it." "All of you did what you could to make up for father," you explain. You and Finn were only children when you found yourselves without parents. Polly and Ada did everything to fill the role of a mother even though it was none of their responsibility. And the boys, fucked up because of the war and driven by the need to provide for the family, tried to give you some fatherly figure while the real one was who-knows-where. Tommy was the one who always decided and took care of the things he found important. John was the funny one. He gave you sweets, bought you everything you wanted, and spoiled you rotten. But Arthur? Arthur was your safety net. "I'm grateful for everything the others did for Finn and me," you continue. "But I always thought you were the closest someone can call a father. You were the one who always stayed up when I couldn't sleep or when I was sick. You walked me to school on my first day. You gave me a lecture about boys even though I saw how uncomfortable you were." Arthur still blushes when he thinks back at the conversation. "I didn't want you to get hurt." "I know," you smile at him. Your free hand lands on his arm. "I know Tommy did things how he thought was best, and John did too, but you... You were... there, you know?" "I know," Arthur sniffs, making you choke on your own tears too. "Don't cry," you smile at him, cupping his cheek. His skin is warm under your touch. "So, will you do it? Will you give me away?" "Of course," he says, grabbing your hand to kiss your palm. "Of course, I will do it. And if he ever dares to hurt you..." "I know," you nod, still smiling. "You will be there." "Always."

#arthur shelby x reader #arthur shelby imagine #peaky blinders imagine #peaky blinders x reader

[blackwomanwriter]

"Mine"

Read: Part I, Part II

It's been a minute, but I finally wrote something. And of course, I had to go back to this series because there is something about Thomas Shelby. Anyways, I hope you enjoy, and let me know your favorite part. Happy Reading!

He entered quietly like he was on a mission. Although this one was unlike the ones he had performed during the war and after. No, this mission was different. Very different. Yet, Tommy performed it with the same intensity.

Eyes narrowed on the quiet interior, clocking each entry point and exit way, like a soldier, he assessed his environment. He hadn’t been in a house this small since his childhood. Even back then, the space had felt cluttered and cramped. Too noisy to think. Too busy to breathe. The stench of his father’s hangover in the air before it disappeared altogether.

He remembered talking Arthur out of trying to find their father. A man unworthy of carrying - no, sharing his surname. Tommy tensed his jaw, moving past the memory. Instead, he raised a brow at how devastatingly clean the entire place felt. Physically tidy, but clean in a way that made the house feel empty. Unlived. Unloved. Cold. The opposite of everything he thought of her. She was warm. Tender. Inviting.

Moving to the narrow staircase, he could hear the water running. The pipes pushing the water through the house. She was here. She was alive. She was avoiding him - again.

He hiked up the stairs, stepping one foot in front of the other. Like a soldier, he kept moving. He carried on with the task before him. His mind focused on the mission.

Opening the door quietly, Tommy leaned on the door frame - taking in the sight before him. Curved hips that were fuller since he had last seen her. A waist that tempted him to wrap his arms around her. It was now that he reached in his pocket for a cigarette.

“Jesus, Tommy,” she shrieked. The click of his lighter giving him away.

She rested a hand on her heart, shuddering as she closed her eyes.

Unbothered, he traced the stick along his bottom lip before lighting it.

“What the fuck are you doing here?” She pinched the bridge of her nose, as her breath steadied.

“You haven’t been taking my calls,” he stated. Gaze unchanged. Smoke filling the air.

“I’m in mourning,” she enunciated, grabbing a towel to cover herself. She didn’t bother hiding her frustrations as she shoved past him. She was angry. He liked her angry.

At first, when she didn’t answer his call, he had briefly worried that she was sad. Tearful over the sudden death of her husband, who the police found floating in the river after a night of drinking. His death ruled accidental according to the official report. A drunken man’s blunder. An unsurprising end of life. An expected death for a man who drank as much as her late husband did.

An easy lie to believe, but she knew the truth. The greatest mistake the dead man had made was marrying Thomas Shelby’s favorite whore. It was her mistake more than his. She knew what she was doing when she said yes. The risks she was taking by marrying while Tommy was off in America. Her moment of rebellion had cost a life.

Although, they had gotten past the letter. She hadn’t returned to him. She wanted to keep her promise. To stay married. To honor what was left of her vows. She wouldn’t work for him. She wouldn’t see him. The temptation of losing herself in him made her stay away. She had already ruined the sanctity of her marriage by sleeping with him in his office. She didn’t want to continue making a mockery of the words she vowed before God and man.

She was suddenly religious, which amused Tommy. He thought it was a game, but she clung on to every word spoken by the priest. At the funeral, she remembered his words at the wedding. How he had pressed upon her the importance of repentance. Before Thomas Shelby, she had been a good girl. Never told a lie. Prayed before bed. Devout daughter. Devoted sister. An upstanding and honorable member of her community. He had changed her. Corrupted her. Loved her. Destroyed her.

“It’s been weeks,” Tommy stated coolly.

She ignored him. Her hands focused on the cream she was applying to her skin. Smooth skin. Soft skin. Skin his lips remembered. The taste imprinted on his tongue. Tommy exhaled.

His patience was wearing thin. He loved her. She loved him. He figured out how to help her keep her promise and allow him to keep his. Her husband was dead, and she was free.

“I see you’re eating again,” he quipped, trying to stir a reaction out of her. She didn’t disappoint. He ducked as the bottle of cream nearly struck his head.

“I went from being a whore to being a widow.”

“Sounds like the beginning of a book.” Tommy shrugged then ducked again. This time, she threw a shoe.

“At least I can bargain my way into heaven as a whore,” she resolved, refusing to meet his eyes.

“Is that what your priest tells you?” He brought the cigarette back to his lips for another drag.

He knew. Of course, he knew. She wondered if he was having her followed again. How else would he know about her visits to the church. Her talks with the priest.

“My greatest sin is you,” she finished her thought.

Her words were meant to be cutting, but Tommy remained unbothered. His eyes stoic, jaw set as if he was watching a horse race. He brought his cigarette to his lip, letting it dangle as he neared her. 

She stood up, ready to shove past him again, but he grabbed her forearm. Her eyes flared up at him as she tried to loosen his grip, but he remained firm.

“You want to talk about sins, ey?” He whispered against her ear. “You married a man who picked a pint over his life. A man who stowed you away in a house he couldn’t bear to live in himself, while he stayed three doors down with his brother’s wife.”

She frowned, hearing him confirm a suspicion she wouldn’t allow herself to believe. When he stopped coming home, she told herself that he was drunk at a pub or sleeping his hangover off at his mother’s house.

“A man who lost his wages betting on fights.”

So that’s where all their money had gone, she thought. Her face didn’t flinch as Tommy confirmed another truth. Her late husband was just another man who had let her down. All the words she threw at Tommy about him being a good man were lies. He was just better at hiding his wrongs.

Tommy softened his grip on her hand, as he relayed the sin that he couldn’t forgive. The sin that forced him to intervene without thinking of the consequences. “A man who was willing to sell his wife to settle his debts.”

Her eyes widened then glazed over. The shred of innocence he once found in those warm brown irises was quickly disappearing. He cursed at himself for the letter, but it wasn’t just the letter. It was the months he left her wondering if he could ever love again. It was the voice that told him to push her away. She married the man because of him.

Tommy released her hand. There was a part of him that wished he hadn’t been so honest. Her hardened eyes told him just as much. The look on her face was one he had seen before in the women who dared to love him. When his darkness eventually shadowed their light. When his world swallowed them whole.

She reached for the cigarette hanging from his mouth. Taking a long drag, she exhaled. The smoke covering Tommy’s face.

“My sin was marrying the wrong man,” she concluded.

His thumb brushed her skin, remembering when her lips pressed against his in hunger. His lip bleeding as their need took precedence. Her lip bruised from his appetite. Even when he had her, he needed more. Tracing her lip, he gently placed the cigarette between his fingers then lifted it to his mouth. The first puff was for the memory. The second was for his patience.

“No, my god doesn’t care about sins.”

“I didn’t think you believed in,” sighing, she looked up, “anything.”

Tommy closed his eyes. His patience wearing on him again. “You’re moving out of this house. You’re coming back to work, and you’re going to answer when I call.”

“Of course, Mr. Shelby,” she answered.

His jaw ticked at the use of his surname. The smoke from his cigarette creating a haze over his eyes. “Don’t start.”

“Tell me what your god thinks about whores.”

“Everyone’s a whore,” he muttered, as he moved toward the door, already thinking of his next order of business. The kiss would have to wait.

“Is that what your wife thinks?”

Tommy stopped walking. Leaning his hand on the door frame, he closed his eyes. His nose flared. His annoyance growing with her disobedience. He seemed to attract women who were determined to do the opposite of what he asked.

“She confronted me. Told me to stay away,” she admitted, and in that second, he realized why she ignored him. She was no longer his secret. He made his affection too obvious.

“I’ll take care of it,” he firmly stated, leaving no room for further questions. Yet, she continued.

“Does she follow any of the other girls or is it just me?” She asked.

He wasn’t ready to admit that there weren’t any other girls. That there hadn’t been other girls for a while. From the moment he declared his love, Tommy had made himself hers - only hers.

“You love me, but there are others,” she whispered. “I love you, but all I do is think of them. To be with you, I have to worry about them. I have to wait to be yours.”

“Is that what you’re doing then - waiting?” He asked, closing the distance between them.

Her hand dropped to her middle and Tommy’s eyes followed. He stared, then frowned before bringing his gaze back to her. “How far along?”

Her eyes softened. The grief coloring every muscle in her face. Tommy closed his eyes. She was in mourning. He understood her words clearly now. It was moments like this that made him miss Polly. She would have known.

Tommy muttered something in his Romanian tongue as he sat on the bed. He stamped his cigarette out in silent rage. There was never an end. Death seemed to find him at every turn. It hunted him. Craved him.

His hands went to her robe. Slowly, he pulled the fabric, revealing her body. A body that had prepared itself to carry his child. A body that had nourished him back to life. His fingers moved to her belly, tracing the skin there. The soft, smooth skin.

He looked up at her and saw the tears she wouldn’t shed. How long had she held them in, unable to weep. Unable to speak. Unable to fully mourn. Wrapping his arms around her middle, he pulled her in and kissed the place his hands had touched. He tried to do what she had done for him; he tried to make it okay for her to feel.

“I’m fine, Tommy. It’s better this way,” she said, her voice cold and void of any emotion.

“When?” He whispered, knowing it was his, and yet wondering how he’d missed so much in so little time.

“It doesn’t matter,” she stiffened. “It’s gone now, and I need to move on.”

She gave him a second to make peace with the reality she had lived with for weeks. Then, she moved from his touch, closing her robe as she distanced herself. Loving him was painful enough without the added grief of their lost child.

“You shouldn’t have come,” she folded her arms, avoiding his gaze.

Tommy raised a brow, staring at her before glancing around the room. It was as cold as the rest of the house - bare of any details or remnants of her. Standing up, Tommy found a new mission. He moved past her in search of anything that made the four walls more of a home.

His hands traced the metal bed frame. His fingers trailing the linen and cloth. He opened windows and tapped on wooden walls. He inspected the little furniture in the room, unsatisfied with the results.

“Tommy,” she started to say as he pushed open a wardrobe, finding it empty.

She was leaving. She planned to leave London. She planned to leave him. The thought stung in Tommy’s mind as he opened drawer after empty drawer. His anger taking center stage.

“Tommy,” her voice raised with concern.

He shoved the empty wardrobe back, watching as it crashed against the wall.

“Stop,” she yelled, as he shoved the wardrobe again and again. His grief coloring his anger. His anger coloring his grief. Her heart jumped as the wooden drawers finally cracked under the pressure. The splitting wood overshadowing her screams as the wardrobe completely fell apart.

“Tommy,” she cried, rushing to stop him from breaking the wood further. “Stop.”

“Please,” she whispered. Her plea full of a love she couldn’t deny him.

He exhaled. The sound of his heightened breath taking all the space in the room. His anger taking all the air. Tommy closed his eyes. The familiar whispers creeping in his head, telling him to put out the fire. To walk over to the other side. To let go of this life. To finally rest.

She swallowed, unsure of what to tell him, and yet, she persisted. “My sister found work outside of London. She thought it’d be good for me…”

Tommy shook his head, looking up at the ceiling.

“I wanted to tell you,” she stopped, lowering her head. There was nothing to say.

He scoffed. “Tell me.”

It felt like deja vu to hear him utter those words to her again. To hear the same command. The same request he’d asked from her when she told him about the wedding. Yet, this time, there was nothing left to say.

She stared at the back of his head. Her fingers yearning to brush his hair or wrap themselves around him. Her lips longing to kiss the nape of his neck.

Closing her eyes, she confessed. “There’s no life for me here.”

“You’re not leaving.” He pushed back, ignoring her words. “You’re mine.”

“When?” She sighed. “When am I yours, Tommy?”

He lifted his head, staring at the wall. His mind moving a mile a minute. She couldn’t leave him. His heart wouldn’t allow it. His body would protest. His hunger was contained to her. His thoughts all went back to her. How many minutes until he can think of her? How many meetings until he can dream of her? He suffered without her to be with her. Every hour he was away was an hour he promised to give to her.

He was a selfish man, who wanted what he wanted. A man who endured wars and monsters disguised as men. A cursed man. A broken man. A suffering man. A man who didn’t deserve her, and yet, he wanted her. He needed her. She was the cigarette on his lips. The pain tablets in his pocket. The shirt on his back. The razor blade on his cap. She couldn’t leave him.

“When your wife is gone? When you’re fucking other women?” Her voice continued in the background, but Tommy was half-listening. “When you’re bored? When the nightmares come? When the work is done? When am I yours?” She asked again, although there was no anger in her question.

“When you married him, you were mine. Every time you put on his fucking ring; you were mine.” His brows furrowed as he reached into his side pocket for a cigarette. “When you moved into this house, you were mine. When you had my fucking child inside of you, you were mine.” Tommy sniffed, turning to face her. “From the moment you entered my office, you belonged to me.”

She stiffened, as she traced her empty ring finger. His crassness didn’t bother her as much as his refusal to listen. He disregarded her words, only focusing on what he wanted. It was why she didn’t want to tell him about the baby. He would have stuck her in a big house that he would never visit. Given her everything except the thing she wanted, which was him. But now that nightmare wasn’t even a reality because she’d lost their child. She'd lost a piece of him.

“Is that all it takes…” she started to argue, but words were pointless. Their arguments were pointless. They had a love that was cursed from inception.

In this life, he was promised to another. In the next, he would be reunited with another. In life and death, she had no place in Thomas Shelby’s life. Her love for him didn’t save their unborn child. It reminded her that their love had no place to grow. It was wilted, and no amount of money or prayer could save them.

“You’re not leaving,” Tommy declared, cornering her until she had no choice but to look up at him.  Her brown eyes sinking into him, full of a love he didn’t deserve.

“You made me a promise,” he whispered. His jaw tensing as he remembered that night in his office when he had made himself hers. When he had promised to live. To stop craving death. The gods had given him a second chance with her.

“Tommy,” she protested, but he continued.

“You gave me your word.” His lips brushed hers and her body shuddered. “You made promises to me. Promises I intend to collect.”

His hand slipped down to her robe, loosening the ties. His fingers marking a trail from her chest to her neck to her lips. “Promises you agreed to keep.”

She folded under his touch. Her head falling on his chest as she exhaled. Quick, short breaths that made Tommy pull her in closer.

“And what of your promises?” She grabbed his fingers before they could slip between her thighs.

“Hmmm,” he hummed, trying not to smirk. “Remind me again.”

Shaking her head, she moved from his hands. Her heart ached, but it would always ache whether she was with him or not. He was not wrong. It belonged to him. From the moment she entered his office, her heart had become his. Knowing he was promised to another, it still beat for him. It yearned for him. It acted without consequence.

Thou shall not commit adultery. A vow she’d broken within a month of knowing Thomas Shelby. But her heart didn’t care. It didn’t care about the commandments she broke. Her sins were plenty but her heart was full. Full of love for a man who couldn’t confess his love until she married another.

Turning away from him, she closed her robe. Her hand wanted to follow the trail he etched on her skin, but she didn’t. She could hear him lighting a cigarette. His eyes on her. His eyes undressing her. His eyes claiming her as his.

She wanted to run, but her heart wouldn’t let her. Instead, she willed herself to face him. Smoke in the air. His scent in every crevice of the cramped room. She inhaled and tried to tell him again. Her thoughts were on her lips, and yet, nothing.

Offering her his cigarette, Tommy stepped towards her. “Leaving London won’t cure you of me.”

She reached for the smoke. Grateful for the distraction. For the heat. For the vapors. For the way her lungs would expand and contract. For the cigarette they shared between them. His lips on her lips. Her lips on his.

“That priest of yours won’t help you either,” he added.

“What is the cure then?”

Tommy leaned into her. His hands on her waist, slowly moving her robe up past her knees then her thighs. “First, you have to stop running.”

“Running?” She asked, confused by his accusation.

“The wedding. The job. This house.” He counted. “And now these plans of leaving London.” His hands pushed the fabric of her robe from her skin, leaving her naked before him. “You mustn’t run.”

“And what if I do?” She questioned, not allowing her nudity to dissuade her.

Tommy brushed her cheek before taking the cigarette from her lips. “I’ll find you. Remind you of where you belong.”

“And where is it that I belong?” She asked. Her eyes gentle and pleading. 

He brought her hand to his chest, placing it where his heart lay. “Here. Right here.”

She swallowed her nerves, terrified of letting her heart speak. “Second?” She went back to his list.

“Second.” He took a drag, exhaling the smoke before he continued, “You must know, I get scared,” he admitted, and she finally understood why he’d written her that letter. Thomas Shelby was scared of loving her. The first woman he loved died in his arms because of a bullet meant for him. Love was something to fear, and he was terrified.

“Now, it’s unpleasant and it’s unkind. But when I am…”

“I’ll remind you,” she finished, “of where you belong.”

Tommy cupped her face, placing a kiss on her head. “Good.”

She closed her eyes. Her heart too fragile for Thomas Shelby’s confession. He hadn’t proposed, yet they were already exchanging vows.

“Last.” He leaned his head on hers. “And the most important.”

“Yes,” she breathlessly whispered.

Tommy’s finger traced her bottom lip before he kissed her. His lips hungry to taste her. Selfish in his desire - his consumption of her. He groaned when he felt her kiss him back. Her own need just as desperate as his. She moaned when their lips parted, disappointed by her body’s need for air.

“I promise to have you pregnant by spring.”

Her eyes lit up as she laughed for the first time in months. She chuckled, not taking him seriously. “Tommy.”

“A boy,” he declared, wrapping his arms around her middle. “He’ll have your eyes and my charm.”

She giggled, playfully hitting his chest as he picked her up and placed her on the bed. Her smile widening as she gazed at him. She was returning to herself - returning to him. Weeks of grief slowly thawing from her heart.

Tommy stamped out his cigarette before joining her with a kiss. His body on top of hers. His hands on either side of her head. His mind fixated on the softness of her skin.

“I’ll be back at work in the morning,” she whispered in between kisses.

“You won’t be working anymore.”

She pulled away from his kiss, frowning at him. “What are you on about, Tommy?”

He sighed, already knowing he was about to start another fight. “I won’t have you working with a child of mine inside of you.”

“What?”

“You’ll be carrying my son,” Tommy repeated.

Closing her eyes, she realized he was serious. Of course, he was serious. She wondered how long he’d been planning to get her pregnant again.

“I don’t deserve you,” Tommy kissed her lips. “But, I promised to give you a life worthy of everything you are.” He reminded her. “I promised to let you in my head. I promised to do more than just wait to die. I promised to live.”

She wanted to be angry with him, but he remembered. Every word. Every promise. Everything they had discussed in his office.

“I promised to keep you safe.”

“To make us safe,” she corrected.

He kissed her again. “There are no other girls,” Tommy confessed, reminding her of his other promise. Tommy Shelby was hers.

Grabbing his collar, she pulled him into a long kiss. “No more running,” she vowed.

Tommy smiled. “No more.” He pressed his lips on hers before adding, “You’re mine.”

This time, she didn’t argue, simply letting him kiss her. “Now, where were we, Mrs. Shelby?” He asked, slipping his fingers between her thighs.

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

This was a long one. If you made it to the end, thank you for reading! Let me know your favorite part.

#blackwomanwriter #thomas shelby #cillian murphy #tommy shelby x black reader #tommy shelby x you #thomas shelby x you #thomas shelby x reader #tommy shelby x reader #peaky blinders #blackreader

[uglyducklingofthe2000s]

Perfect Strangers - Charles Leclerc

Summary: Charles knows that he should never live with regrets. Especially when the thing he might regret is letting go of the love of his life because he thought he was just too young to have met the love of his life. They were each other’s first everything. At one point they were each other’s everything. Now they’re strangers.

Though upon seeing her. Charles intends to change that. 

2014

In the darkness and grief of Jules death, y/n was Charles’ guiding light. Keeping his head out the water and making sure he remembered what he was doing and why he was doing it.

“You...are...magnifique.” Charles states kissing down her body while she relishes in his touch. A giggle passing her lips as the soft stubble brushes her skin. “I could waste days in bed  with you, mon amour.”

“You do waste days in bed with me whenever you are not training or finally getting around to actually completely your schoolwork.” Y/n snorts then being silenced by another kiss.

“You speak as if you do not enjoy it too.” Charles chuckles while she laughs and looks at him. “I don’t know where I’d be without you, y/n. If I ever lose you-if I ever have to live my life without you, I would be lost too.”

“Charles, I’m not going anywhere. I promise.”

It wasn’t her fault she made a promise he wouldn’t let her go on to keep. Less than 6 months later, he said that things weren’t working. That they were too young to know what love really was.

What Charles later realised hurt the most is the memory of heartbreak in her eyes that she tried to hide with a reassuring smile for his benefit. She told him that she understood and she wished him the best. Then with one final kiss she left and that was the end of them. 

She was too good for him. 

2023

Charles knew that he should let her go. The memory of what they had has ended enough relationships since she’d left his life. But Charles finds himself on his burner Instagram, made only so he can follow her and see what she’s doing, more than he cares to admit.

It’s not as if he didn’t move on. He did.

But then he backtracked and would go back to her. Not literally but mentally his mind wandered back to her and he couldn’t stop himself. It was annoying and frustrating but he had to just concede to his own feelings.

Even now at 25, he doesn’t understand what logic his 16 year old self had. But it has been nearly a decade and yet his heart still lumps in his throat when he sees a picture of her so happy. Sometimes his fan pages post pictures of him with her. They think (practically insist) she was just a friend, but how little they know almost stings more. She was much more than a friend and now she is nothing more than a stranger. People he has spent only a few hours with are people he knows better than her now.

Last time she came up in conversation in a brief retelling of a story by Arthur, it dawned on Charles just how long it’s been nearing 9 years since he made a mistake that he has never came to live down.

How could he possibly have gone nearly a decade caught on the same woman?

All while she has long since moved on. A fact he wishes he didn’t have to accept but he has seen her Instagram through his burner account. She has been living life as though there is nothing of Charles in her mind.

He wishes for that to not be the truth. His only hope that his wishes are true, is that she seems to find the exact opposite side of the planet to every F1 race venue. They are never in the same time zones or at risk of the possibility that they will cross paths.

However, unbeknownst to either of them. They aren’t only in the same time zone. They’re in the same restaurant. Over 8 years of having never crossed paths or seen each other in photos and the moment Charles sees y/n feels his body practically freeze.

She’s sitting with a group of friends that he recognises. They used to be the mutual group of friends that they shared. But after Charles’ colossal fuck up of dumping her, they all made it clear that they would stick by her side. Though he did learn from one of them a few weeks after the break up that she had demanded they do not choose “sides”.

Y/n’s good nature would be the death of one of them, he’s not certain if it would be herself or him.

Carlos is there with him along with a couple others from within the Ferrari team since they are in Maranello. But he’s long since stopped listening to them.

“Excuse me.” He murmurs cutting into the conversation with little care.

By the time he moves over to the other table he feels that familiar lump in his throat. The heavy thudding of his heart. It’s not in his nature to be nervous but he is.

“Charles.” Her voice cause the heavy beating to go from pounding in his ear so loud that he almost thought he might not be able to hear anything else to dead still.

Her bright smile and the joy in her voice is the only thing that resuscitates his heart into beating again, be that unsteady and out of his touch.

“It is so good to see you, it has been too long. Please sit.”

She doesn’t ask the others who look more hesitant to greet him so warmly but once he is sitting things don’t feel too uncomfortable. Conversation flows, mainly led by y/n as she talks to Charles. Managing to catch him up on the last 9 years of her life within a few minutes.

Charles is almost certain in a previous life she was a socialite. The type like in that Netflix show Bridgerton, she’d be the mother. Hosting balls and knowing everyone by name without a second thought. Conversation has always came natural to her and if he didn’t know any better, he’d think she wasn’t allowing for a moment of silence for his benefit.

Eventually the meal is over and y/n covers the bill despite some push back she hushed them all to silence.

Charles walks her out and the two are left to speak without an audience.

“I would ask what you have been doing. But you have been living the dream. I’m so happy that you got everything you wanted, knowing how hard you worked for it. It’s good to see it paid off.” Y/n smiles but it wavers when Charles scoops up her hand. Exactly how he used when they were younger. “Charles?”

“Did you ever move on?” He asks making her look down at their hands managing another weak smile.

“Of course.” She confirms leaving Charles to feel the same heartbreak he’s sure he left her with all those years ago. “But we’ll…when you make a promise to someone out of love. It’s hard to ever forget it.”

“It was all a mistake. Everything I said and did, it was a mistake and I knew as soon as you left. But it was too late and I thought that you would never forgive me.” Is what he wanted to say.

“I suppose we were quite foolish to think that young love would be so unbreakable.” Y/n sighs with a soft smile.

“I owe all my success to you.”

“No-“

“I do. I would love if you would come to the next race. Please.” Charles tries while she looks at him almost…sympathetically. Presumably because this F1 season has not been what someone might consider as evidence of his success. “I will arrange everything.”

“You will?”

“Of course.”

“I hope this is not a guilt led apology. I’m not ignorant enough to not recognise this is the first time we have seen each other since we broke up.” Y/n smiles softly but that only earns her a head shake.

“I owe you much more than this one race. But I hope you will let me do this.”

“Ok, I have not been to a race in years not since…2018.”

“You-You went to a race in 2018?”

“I had to see Kimi and Seb race together in Ferrari one last time.”

Of course. She loved Seb and Kimi before they were teammates. It’s no surprise that she would be so eager to see them before they divided as teammates. Something that happened on account of Charles taking Kimi’s seat.

——-

Charles has never been nervous going into a race weekend but there is something about this. Something deep within him that makes him feel like the race means little in comparison to how he feels the rest of the week might be.

If his plan works out in his favour. Then he might just be successful.

He’s not wasted a penny of spoiling her experience and made sure to pull out all the stops. This is his one chance to get her back and he doesn’t intend to risk ruining it.

“Charles!” Y/n gasps with a voice of delight. “Be honest, would I make the cut?”

She’s wearing a drivers suit. One of his driver’s suits and the warm feeling in his chest is that of belonging. A deep-seated, overwhelming sense of true belonging.

She belongs with him. Wearing clothes that belong to him. Living a life with him because that is simply where she belongs. By his side forever.

“Y/n red suits you.” Carlos comments from beside him.

“You think so? Pierre said so too.”

Pierre the one of few who knew Charles when he was dating y/n in their youth. He knew how much they’d loved each other, how much she’d supported Charles through so much of his grief and the beginnings of his career. She was there for him without him needing to call upon her. Charles suspects Pierre might know what he is up to. After all subtlety was never his strong suit, he’s even certain that y/n must know he’s up to something.

“I think you look beautiful.” Charles states watching her face flush to match the suit. “Come with me.”

“Where?”

“The car. You are dressed for it.” Charles smiles earning a small clearing of her throat before she takes his offered hand.

If she does suspect his intentions then she is not going to call him out on it. At least not yet. Maybe later.

Despite spending the week hoping things might progress. Charles is getting into the car for the start of the race no further forward than when she arrived.

So he does what any sane person does. After the race, while there’s some celebrations. Charles pulls her aside after they’re both a few drinks in and does something that will either justify him being slapped or finally communicate what he can’t just say out loud.

The intoxicating taste of her choice of sweet cocktails compared to his choice of slightly more bitter taste of the expensive whiskey he’d been drinking on ice.

For a moment it’s like nothing changed, it’s like those 8 years of separation never happened and he’s almost transported back to those moments in his bedroom, hidden under sheets with bare skin and soft whispers. Then he comes hurtling back to Earth, his hands on his chest pushing him back as she breaks the kiss.

Charles isn’t even sure if it lasted seconds or minutes. But she looks breathless and her eyes are glossy with tears.

“I-“

“Shut up. When you talk and think, bad things happen.” She mutters closing the space between them, almost to Charles relief since he didn’t even know what he had planned to say if a kiss didn’t work the way he wanted.

“Can we leave now?” Charles asks pressing her to the wall behind her.

“Yes. We can leave.”

When they get to the hotel, they get a couple more drinks at the bar. Though Charles notes he’s going to have to make sure to burn off any calories gained in excess. Even on his mission to get the love of his life back. He can’t stop habits instilled into him.

Somehow they end up sitting out on the balcony looking out on the city. Her knees tucked up to her chest as she admires the sight in front of her, unknowingly flashing Charles but it’s nothing he hasn’t seen before so maybe she knows and simply doesn’t care.

“I never-“

“Charles, for two teenagers to expect forever with each other was silly. You didn’t do anything wrong, but you also couldn’t have expected I would be happy about you breaking up with me at the time. I mean I was 15. Hardly an age for emotional stability.”

“You are the most grounded and rational person I know. It has been almost 9 years and I’ve spent all this time realising that I made a huge mistake in letting you go.” Charles states while she smiles softly. “I never deserved you and I still don’t but it won’t change anything. I want you to be mine.”

“You want me to be yours?” Y/n hums before biting her lip. “You’ve always meant the world to me. Do you know that?”

“I can give you much more than the world.” Charles promises shifting closer before hooking his hands under her legs, pulling her forward to sit with her legs around his hips, her thighs resting on top of his.

His hot breath his fanning her face while that same familiar scent of her still reaches him, although the mixture of sweet alcohol in mixed in from the celebrations.

This kiss is softer, more like those tender moments they shared that were filled with innocence and shy giggles. The heat follows as her hands move from the back of his neck to his jeans.

“Still impatient, mon amour.” Charles laughs as the kiss breaks.

“You are more than ready too.” She scoffs then noticing him look off the balcony and the glass railing. “It’s too dark for anyone to see us, Charles.”

Any thoughts of protests and suggestions of moving inside are silenced when she kisses him and pushes him back till he’s lying down and if there were anyone watching he’s out of sight.

“Don’t worry, Charles. I’ll always take care of you.”

He’s left speechless of her confidence. It’s not as if she never got on top when they were younger but there’s something about her now. She has no doubt in herself. No second-guessing what she’s doing in fear he might not like it.

Before he knows it, she’s pulled out his dick and is sinking down on it. A shiver of pleasure rippling through both of them while Charles runs his hands up her thighs till he’s holding her waist and guiding her pace.

Generally as a rule across the board. Sex is good. Great even.

But Charles had forgot how good sex felt when it was with the one person you truly want to have sex with. That you love, their touch is like a blaze of desire being shot through every nerve ending. Or at least that’s the effect y/n has on Charles.

By the time they finish she’s slumped herself forward on him and nuzzled her face into his neck.

“Mon amour.” Charles whispers making her swallow. “We should probably move.”

“Yeah. Probably.” She laughs lightly before clearing her throat and standing up. Trying not to grimace at the feeling of gravity leaving cum leaking down her thighs.

Eventually they’re showered and lying in bed with her head resting on his chest while he traces his finger up and down her spine. She does the same but over his ribs. A position they’ve spent so many hours in that it probably equates to days. But that was another lifetime, or it feels like another lifetime now.

The wince of realising her could’ve spent all this time enjoying these moments. Years of his life wasted of not being able to stay like this with her.

“I love you.”

“I love you too.”

“I’m never going to let you go again. And if I try, slap me. Clearly I’m not seeing sense if I’m that stupid again.” Charles whispers earning a small laugh.

“Don’t worry. I have faith you’ve learned your lesson.”

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

[polakina]

on his knees for you

pairing: javier escuella x reader

rating: mature

outline: a robbery goes sideways, and your already rocky friendship with a fellow camp mate is put to the test as you evade the guards of Van Horn

warnings: cursing, so much bickering, canon-typical gore and violence, flirting, slightly suggestive (this is by far the tamest thing i've ever written)

requests are open! hope you enjoy, petals <3

a/n: i can't believe how many notifications i've gotten about my works over the past week. its fucking crazy. thank you so much, you're all absolute stars

masterlist

II

It was a simple job, really. Get in, steal the bonds, and get out.

But nothing ever went as simple as the original plan, did it? Not with the Van Der Linde gang. There was always a little bit of improvisation to be had. Which was exactly what you were doing right now.

Bullets firing past your ears, blood running down your leg, the target’s personal guards chasing you down the winding paths of Roanoke Ridge.

-

One day earlier.

The plan was set. Arthur, Bill and Lenny were to infiltrate the building and steal the bonds, while Micah and Charles handled the guards. You and Javier were on lookout, posted at the entrance gates. 

You were all stationed just outside of Van Horn, your target being the mansion and its occupiers. Trelawny had brought intel of bonds on their way through Van Horn to Annesburg, stopping off at the mansion overnight. Roanoke wasn’t a place anyone wanted to be caught up in at night.

“It’s fucking freezing out here,” you muttered, leaning further against your horse, absorbing his body heat as much as you could. It had been hours of waiting around and checking on the mansion. No movement whatsoever since the sun began to set. Darkness was nearing and the coach was nowhere to be seen.

Javier stood beside you, rifle in hand, eyes fixated on the road to the right, where the coach should appear from. “Want my poncho?” He asked, glancing at you briefly.

You didn’t even cast him a look as you responded. “Wouldn’t want to ruin your style, Escuella. I think I’ll survive without it.” You sighed, and moved from your position, heading further down the road, hiding in the trees to watch from a different position, seeing the road winding down Roanoke Ridge to New Hanover.

The two of you had never gotten along. He didn’t like your attitude one bit. You were snarky, cold. Something you’d developed after years of running with Arthur and John. He’d try and make conversation, you’d brush it off. He’d invite you on a fishing or hunting trip, you’d decline and say you preferred to hunt alone. He couldn’t win. You never sat with the camp during his songs or meals, you were always perched somewhere else, keeping lookout. That’s what you did. That’s all you ever did. 

So after a few months, he gave up. Not exactly understanding your harshness to him, he just accepted it instead. He returned your cold comments and your mean stares. Years passed and you bickered like enemies living beside one another. 

You whistled out to the group as you spotted the coach. Your whistle blended with the birds, so it was undetected by the gourds watching the bonds.

Everything went smoothly, Arthur, Lenny and Bill making quick work of breaking into the bonds lock box, and you heard the guards grunting and groaning as they hit the floor from Micah and Bill’s attacks.

Through your scope, you spotted as the boys grabbed the bonds, throwing them into their satchels. Drifting your rifle along the side of the mansion, you sensed something wrong with Bill. He was arguing with Micah. More so than usual. 

“What’s going on?” Javier whispered, lying beside you, hidden between the trees.

You shushed him, focusing on Bill. Their argument grew even more heated, and you caught a glimpse of lantern light behind them. You watched as they turned, cursing loudly before returning fire. Micah had scurried off during the brawl with the guards, seeking other treasures and getting himself caught in a scuff with guardsmen minding their own business.

“Shit, shit,” Javier cursed, throwing an arm over you and holding you down, protecting your head as bullets fired your way. “He can’t keep his head for one mission, puta madre!”

Arthur had ordered for, if the mission went south; which you had good money on it that it did, that you scatter. Split up and evade Van Horn at all costs, go the long way around New Hanover until it was safe to return back to camp so you were sure you weren’t followed. 

They had the bonds, all they needed to do was escape without getting caught. But you wouldn’t have minded if Micah got murdered in the. Just when you thought he’d found your last nerve, he managed to hit another one.

“I think this is our cue to leave,” you said through gritted teeth, pushing yourself onto your feet and grabbing your gear. Javier was on your heels, close behind. You hiked deeper into Murfree Brood territory, constantly keeping an eye over your shoulders for lantern light.

“Our safest path is through Roanoke,” Javier said from behind you, following your path through the trees. “The guards won’t dare follow us through there this late at night.”

You halted suddenly, whipping around to face Javier. He was caught off guard, almost stumbling into you, a surprised expression on his face. “Are you crazy, Escuella? Murfree Brood hunt here at night. If it’s not the guards who get us, it’ll be them. And I’d rather take my chances with bullets rather than-”

A bullet shot through the wind, straight through your leg into the tree behind you. It caught your words in your throat and you almost crumbled to the ground under the pain firing down your leg. Javier didn’t even blink as he wrapped an arm around you, catching you before you fell. He pulled his gun from its holster at his hip, pointing it over your shoulder and firing it straight into the head of the guard who fired at you first.

It drew attention. Of course, it did. Javier pulled you away from the scene, down the winding path leading to New Hanover. His arm stayed firmly around your waist, and you tried to hold in your groans of pain as your feet collided with uneven terrain, worsening the sting of the wound.

You both heard voices, coming from the top of the hill of which you had just descended. Javier pulled you around a large oak tree, pushing your body against the bark which pulled a pained gasp from your lips. “Fucking hell, Javier. At least try to be gentler with-” His hand clamped over your mouth, his body pressed against yours as he looked past the tree trunk to the guards making their way past you, checking their surroundings as they went. 

“You need to learn to shut up once in a while,” he whispered, looking back to you. His hat was tipped down his head, shielding his eyes. “I’m trying to save you and you’re still complaining.”

You looked up at him, your mouth still firmly covered, your hand wrapped around his wrist, instinct from when he shut you up. He smelled of whiskey and firewood, his scent filling your nostrils. His hand wrapped around your waist protectively, tightening as the footsteps grew closer.

Pulling his hand down, you noticed his skin never left yours. It rested around your neck. Softly, no pressure in his fingers, but the heat of his palm burned against your pulse, and he felt your heart rate jump. “Thought you would have wanted to get rid of me, Escuella,” you whispered, looking up at him. 

But he just looked down at you, surprised. “What?”

“Get rid of me. Hand me off to some guards searching through half the woods for us.” Your gaze never wavered. “Would certainly save you the trouble of dealing with me back at camp.”

He just smirked, tilting his head up, his eyes turned down to look at you. “And why would I want to get rid of you? Perhaps I enjoy the trouble you cause me. Ever thought about that?” His eyebrows raised as you stood there, unable to form words. “So are you going to  shut up and behave yourself while I get you out of here? Or are you going to keep talking until they figure out where we are?”

Javier waited for your response, but it never came. You just bowed your head, sealing your lips in a thin line. He took that as a sign that you’d ‘shut up and behave’. 

The men eventually left, abandoning their search for you, leaving both you and Javier a window of opportunity to flee.

-

The sun poked out above the trees from the makeshift camp Javier had set up in New Hanover. You were shielded by the canopy of branches, the fire in front of you keeping you warm. But it wasn’t doing anything good for the bullet wound in your leg. You stretched out your leg, wincing at the pain shooting through your body.

“I told you not to try and fix it by yourself,” you heard Javier say as he emerged with an armful of firewood, dropping it by your bags. “Your hands will shake before you’ve finished stitching it.”

You glared up at him. “Would you suggest I just leave it? Cut my leg off?”

Javier rolled his eyes at you, kneeling in front of you, his knees on either side of your wounded leg. “I would suggest…that you should wait for me. I’ll stitch it for you.”

Pulling his knife from the holster at his ankle, he sliced the blade through the fabric of your pant leg like butter. All the way up to your hip. “Hey!” You called out. “They were new pants.”

“I’ll buy you a replacement. Now shut up.” He was always harsh with his words, but now, it was even more so. A slight pang of worry soaked his tone.

“You’re such an ass sometimes-ow!” His fingers pushed against the wound on your leg, blood pooling out to the floor. “The fuck was that for?”

He looked indifferent as he looked up at you. “Feeling for any shrapnel. You don’t have any, thankfully, or else this would have hurt a lot more than its about to.”

“I could have told you that,” you grimaced as he began cleaning the wound. Applying pressure to one end of the bullet hole only forced blood through the other side. You could see both the entry point and exit point of the wound, stretching across the left and right sides of your leg.

You were both silent as he cleaned your leg, but you gasped as he pulled out a needle. He saw a panicked flash across your face, seeing it appear as quickly as it fled. “Easy,” he soothed, patting your knee. “I’ll be quick. You won’t feel it.”

“Don’t lie to me,” you whispered, your eyes only focused on the needle.

He sighed, leaning closer, tipping your chin up to meet his softened gaze. “Okay. You will feel it. But not much. A bee sting, that’s all it feels like. But it’ll be easier if you lie down.”

“Why?”

“Your muscles tense when you sit upright. You could at least be comfortable while I stitch you up.” He helped you into a more comfortable position. Javier still straddled your shin, one of his hands pressed against your thigh while his other stitched the hole closed. You laid there, his poncho acting as your pillow as you looked up at the trees.

You ignored the sting you felt each time the needle pierced your skin. Javier wasn’t wrong, it did feel like a bee sting. What’s more important, was that you could manage that sort of pain. “Thank you,” you said quietly, but you weren’t certain he heard you at first, until the needle stopped in your skin, his actions immoveable. Lifting your head and straining your neck, you met his eye. There was a small smile on his face, the corners of his moustache turned upwards with his laugh lines driven deep into his skin. You always did like his smile. That was the one thing that never changed about him. 

“It’s the least I can do,” he smiled, turning his attention back to your stitches. “It’s sort of my fault you got shot in the first place.”

“Sort of? You mean ‘entirely’?” You laughed as he playfully slapped your other leg with the back of his hand.

“Quit laughing,” he chuckled with you. “Or I’ll end up stabbing you in the wrong place.”

He finished quickly, wiping away any trace of blood before gently bandaging your leg. His soft touch lingered for a little while, his thumb gently rubbing soothing patterns into your skin. Your breath stopped in your throat as his touch rose higher. Higher up your thigh. To where your thigh met your hip. He was so fixated on it, he didn’t realise what he was doing until he felt your pulse beating at an ungodly rate at the top of your inner thigh.

His eyes flicked up to yours, where you laid, patiently. You were curious what sorts of thoughts were running through his head right now. What sort of cogs were turning in that brain of his.

You pushed yourself up onto your elbows, your face closer to his than it had ever been before. “What?” You coaxed, too curious to keep quiet now.

“Nothing,” he moved to lean back, his hands drifting down your thighs, but they never left your body before you grabbed the front of his shirt, holding him in place.

“What did I say? Don’t lie to me, Javier.” Your voice never raised above a whisper. It didn’t need to. You were so close a whisper felt like a shout.

He didn’t respond. He couldn’t speak. The close proximity had rendered him faulty in speech. So instead he closed the gap. His lips touched yours, his body melting against your touch. You didn’t expect it. All those years of bickering. All those years of cruel comments and nasty looks. Nothing prepared you for this. But you welcomed it.

Javier leaned you back, your head meeting the poncho  as you felt his body settle on top of yours. Breaking away for air, you saw a softened, kinder look in his eye when he looked at you. “Is this your apology for me getting shot?” You asked, smiling against his lips as he kissed you once more.

“Is it working?” His lips moved to your neck, hovering above your skin to a point where it tickled.

“Hmm…maybe.” 

“Then perhaps I’ll try a different angle,” he smirked, unbuttoning your pants, encapturing your lips in a soft kiss, his tongue slipping into your mouth. He had a lot of making up to do.

#fluff #smut #fanfiction #fanfic #rdr2 #red dead redemption 2 #red dead redemption x reader #javier escuella smut #javier escuella rdr2 #javier escuella x reader #javier escuella #rdr2 smut #rdr2 fanfiction #rdr2 x reader #red dead redemption two #red dead fandom

[dandelionprints]

More Than Enough

(Tommy Shelby One Shot)

As some of you will know if you’ve seen any of my posts, I’ve not had any motivation to write and have really felt my inspiration dwindling on a daily basis. I had a little bit of that motivation come back to me this evening so I thought I’d use it to write this short one shot. It was quite hard to write as I feel like my self belief is at a low right now so I was questioning myself a lot when writing it but fuck it, I’ve finally completed a WIP after weeks of not writing, I hope you enjoy!

Day had slowly turned into night in what had felt like only a matter of minutes in your bedroom, the only light now coming from the fireplace and a lamp that was lit on your desk. The comfort of the fire warmed you as the air grew cold.

Piles of invitations were laid upon the wooden surface with various addresses to the wealthiest people within England and Scotland. This charity ball had better get you a lot of fucking money after all the time you’d put into it, not to mention the cramp that was now very apparent in your fingers.

“Come to bed love, it’s getting late”, Tommy whispered against your shoulder before moving the strap of your nightie to the side and gently laying a kiss on your bare skin.

“I will my love, I’ve just got a few…”, you began, getting cut off swiftly by an exasperated sigh from your husband that caught you off guard.

“Y/N, you’ve been at this for hours, you need to get some rest. I would also like to spend some time with my wife. Please, come to bed”

You turned to look at him standing there in just his boxer shorts, a look of pleading in his expression. Those eyes of blue almost boring right through you, making you melt like they had the first day you’d made contact with them.

You sighed feeling guilty, “I know, Tom. But if I don’t do it then who the fuck will? They’re meant to be delivered to everyone tomorrow and I feel like if they’re not perfect then I’ll be judged even more than I already am”

A wave of insecurity swept over you unexpectedly. Fuck you hated that feeling, never feeling like the life you’d married into was something you deserved. The money, the big house, the handsome gangster husband. None of it.

“Who do you think is judging you, the people invited?”, his eyebrow raised as he took a step toward you, kneeling at your side, “don’t take any notice of what they say, they’re all twats in expensive suits”

You nodded your head and averted his gaze, instead choosing to pick a spot on the floor to focus on.

“I know what they say, Tom. ‘What’s a girl like that doing with a man like him? A former peasant girl who used to have to beg for scraps on the street? She’s probably only with him for the money! Oh, and the maids too, they do everything for her’”

“Who have you heard say that? You tell me and I’ll send Arthur round to have a chat with them, no one talks about my wife like that!”

He stood with his fists balled at his sides, his knuckles white from the tension. Grabbing his arm you pulled yourself up and squeezed him gently, his muscles tight under your grip.

“No! Please don’t, it’s not a big deal”, you used your free hand to bring his face towards yours, “All I’m saying is I’m well aware that they don’t think highly of me. I just want to show them I’m no longer that peasant girl who had to beg for food and money, that I’m capable of organising a charity event and doing as much for it on my own as I can without the help of staff or other influences. I want them to know I work hard, Tom”

He hadn’t taken his eyes off you the whole time you’d been speaking, too fixated on every word you were saying. He brought his hands up to either side of your face and cupped your cheeks.

“You work harder than any of those fuckers that are invited, the only reason they’re on the guest list is cause they have money, and lots of it. They don’t have a clue what shit you went through to end up on the streets or how we met, which if I remember rightly wasn’t when you were still having to sleep in the gutters. They don’t know fuck all about anything, none of them do”, he said, stroking your cheeks with his thumbs.

Bringing your hands up you held onto either one of his wrists, your thumb on the back of his hand.

“I know love, I just want to show I’m enough. Enough to be deserving of this life we’ve built. Enough to be with you when there are so many other beautiful women out there who would drop their knickers for you with just a snap of your fingers”

He chuckled then before his expression turned soft, moving his face closer to yours, hands still cupping your cheeks.

“Darling, you’re more than enough. You always have been”

His lips connected with yours in a soft swoop, holding themselves there for a while before curving up into a smile.

You smiled back feeling a rush of warmth in your chest, the butterflies fluttering around in your stomach making themselves known.

“Now c’mon, bed”

This time you didn’t have a choice in the matter as he swiftly swept you up into his arms and carried you towards the bed. You giggled as you wrapped your arms around his neck, feeling the warmth of his skin against yours, the signature smell of whiskey and cigarettes moving to your nose.

Placing you down onto the bed he knelt over you and kissed you again, this time with more passion.

“I think it’s time I show you just how wrong those people are, how it’s really me who is unworthy to be with you, Mrs. Shelby”

The firelight continued to flicker, casting shadows around the room, the plans of finishing the invitations now well and truly gone.

Right here in this very moment, in your big expensive house, on the expensive Egyptian cotton bedding beneath you on your expensive four poster bed, the only thing that mattered was that the love of your life truly believed that you had always been enough, no matter what.

————

Tagged: @peakypoet @moral-terpitude @lyarr24 @cillmequick @mrkdvidal1989 @shelbydelrey @alasya16 @tommystargirl @elenavampire21 @adaydreamaway08 @slaypussypop-21 (unable to tag) @bluesongbird @zablife @cljordan-imperium @look-at-the-soul @rangerelik

#tommy shelby #tommy shelby imagine #tommy shelby one shot #tommy shelby x you #tommy shelby x reader #tommy shelby x y/n #peaky blinders #cillian murphy

[padfootdaredmetoo]

Thomas or Arthur Shelby with a reader who has a very high libido? Yes, it would be interesting.

Dear Anon,

This is pretty steamy or at least I think so. It's a bit on the shorter side and written in point form but I added gifs - which idk I couldn't help myself NSFW!!! But they were too pretty to leave out.

Hope you like it!

Warnings - sex, lots of it, insecurity about body after having a baby, pregnancy sex

18+

Minors please do not proceed. This content is not suitable, please keep yourself safe and stay away. Thank you 💕

Thomas didn't understand how you could always be ready to go. At first, he worried you were forcing yourself to put on a show, trying to keep his attention so he didn't stray elsewhere. It was a reputation he came to hate once meeting you. 

Then he tried to ignore you a little bit, just enough to give you some breathing room. That went over like a lead balloon, and he wondered why women didn't come with individual sets of instructions. You got so upset, furious with him that he wouldn't give you the real reason he was pulling away. Thoughts of other women and dangerous business deals filled your head. Eventually, he gave up promising and attempting to explain why he was giving you space and just fucked you on the desk. How he managed to push the thoughts from your mind? He didn't know. He just knew it was in his best interest to keep you happy and satisfied. 

He still had no idea what turned you on.

You’d often slide across the bench seat and take his hand off the wheel to slide between your legs. This made him late, the temptation to pull over and embrace her properly was too overwhelming. 

People said it wouldn't last long. That you would settle down. But a year had passed and you were just as demanding as the day you'd first hooked up. you didn't seem happy unless his hand was around your throat, him whispering horrid things in your ear.

Initially he didn't understand why on earth you would want him to do such things to / he wasn't sure he could manage it as you were just so soft and sweet looking. He managed and never questioned why ever again. You always had lots of fantasies and would just jump into one when it suited you. Fucking him on the benches of Parliament.

She had no shame. Getting on her knees at the office, taking what belonged to her, and placing it in her mouth. Completely at ease with the space, and unbothered by ruing his schedule or making him suffer during phone calls. 

He’d bent you over countless bathroom sinks. Watching your face in the mirror as he silently ripped into you. 

Mornings where you’d follow him into the shower. 

��No. No - you kept me up half the night. I have a meeting. We talked about this.” He’d scold you, finger raised. “No fucking.” but he could already feel gravity pulling him to your body. Wordlessly you didn't have to do anything but fall to your knees. Water falling into your face. You took him down in one go and it took everything in him not to cum down your throat. Grabbing you by the hair he held you there for a moment. Pulling you away he watched the thrill light in your eyes as you got your way - as always. He pulled you up fucking you against the cold tiles. Loving the way you were desperate for him. Biting your wet skin, the absolute mess you made when you finally let go. How you only laughed when the hot water ran out. 

The unavoidable happened - you were swelling up with his child. Thinking he’d put a baby in you meant your body would be satisfied for the 9 months it was working hard was just another wrong assumption. All it meant was strange positions and multiple orgasms. Fucking you until you said he could finally cum and be done with it. Long nights. Even in the moments of labor when it was just the two of them you’d drag his hand between your legs to try and push away the pain. 

The babe was a challenge to work around, and suddenly you drifted away. Not ever wanting out of your clothes. Bathing with the door locked. He started to realize how your needs balanced him out, he missed your wild adventures. 

Eventually, he caught you late at night before bed - hand between your own legs, sweat across your forehead. He’d entered the room desperate to touch you. Your hands pushed him away. He felt his heart start to break as tears streamed down your face. He begged but you wouldn’t budge. “You don’t want to see me like this” The words finally choked out. He saw it as a challenge. He kept an eye on you to see if you’d really push him off, he got you out of your clothes as he took his time coming back to your body. Worried that perhaps you were still in pain from giving birth. It wasn't something he figured women would just bounce back from, he was in the room as you had requested, and he wasn't sure if he’d recovered from it. Once you were down to your slip, he watched you reach up to turn the lamp off. Leaving him in darkness as his hands slowly peeled it off. He reached over and turned it back on. You let out a sharp noise trying to cover yourself. He finally pieced it together. You didn't want him to see your body, because it was different. 

“Love, come off it. It’s just me” You burst - he didn't realize that women even talked about these things, let alone pressured each other. Pol and Esme told her to ignore them, but a few other friends worked a fear into her head that once seeing her like this he’d be turned off of her forever.

He spent hours working over every part of her. Massaging, kissing, and praising her. Trying to get his wife back. Trying to get her to understand that there wasn't anything that would take him from her. It took all night but he got his wife back one orgasm at a time. 

You got comfortable again, tamed by responsibility and lack of sleep, but just as needy and persuasive as always. 

No matter how tired or beat up he was, there was nothing that would take away his pain or suffering like your embrace. 

Hope this was alright! Let me know if gifs work for these types of asks.

#peaky blinders #tommy shelby #tommy shelby imagine #tommy shelby x reader #peaky blinders imagine #thomas shelby #thomas shelby imagine #thomas shelby fanfic #thomas shelby x reader #tommy shelby smut #thomas shelby smut

[lovelytsunoda]

twelve fractures // pierre gasly

summary: the four times that y/n leclerc almost called pierre gasly, and the one time that he gave in and called her

tell me, if I were to smile now, in the dead of the dark, would it even exist? i fantasize about those nights you sewed your lips to mine there were shortcuts into heaven through your eyes

pairing: pierre gasly x leclerc! reader ( brother's best friend ).

warnings: age gap ( reader is arthur's twin, which makes her 22 and pierre is 27 ), loss of virginity via a one night stand with pierre, hella angst, pierre is a little toxic at a few points in here. consumption of alchohol. descriptions of and allusions to sex. mentions of ferrari struggling in 2022. lots of miscommunication.

authors note: i hope you guys are ready for pain bc i think this one might hurt y'all a bit.

the first call.

she sat at the booth in the corner, her phone case warm against her hand as she stared numbly at the contact in front of her.

pierre 🍐. the contact photo was of the two of them when they were kids. the gaslys had always been family friends of hers, they grew up together.

so falling in love with him should have been inevitable.

y/n leclerc reached for her tumbler again, downing the last of her third glass of the night. she was well and truly drunk, and she was counting down the minutes until she was drunk enough to call pierre gasly and say all the things she wished that she had told him sooner.

tell him that she was sorry for making shit weird after that night in japan.

"what are you doing moping in the corner?"

she looked up from her phone, frowning at her twin brother as arthur leclerc slid into the booth next to her.

"the fuck do you care? you got into formula two, you should be celebrating."

y/n had never been the athletically inclined sibling. arthur and charles were thriving in motorsports. nobody was quite sure what lorenzo was doing but it seemed to be working for him. y/n just had half a draft of a manuscript sitting on her laptop that she was too scared to finish.

because she never finished anything. never saw it through.

"come on, y/n. you know that i can tell when something is wrong. how much have you had to drink?" arthur frowned, pushing the empty glass away as y/n shut off her phone, hoping that her brother wouldn't notice who she was about to call.

"can we leave, arthur? are you sober enough to drive me home?" her voice was quiet, broken as she looked over to where arthur should have been celebrating with the other prema drivers.

this had never been her world. what happened after japan should have just proven that.

a flash of panic shot through arthur's veins. "are you okay?"

"not really." she didn't trust herself not to cry. "just take me home, arthur."

once she was safely inside arthur's ferrari, her first tear began to fall, dragging a thick mascara trail down her porcelain cheek as she rested her head against the window, the grease from her hair staining the window.

"i hoped that if i got drunk enough, i'd finally have the guts to call him." she said quietly, the radio humming softly in the background with the kind of song she would have hated if arthur hadn't liked it so much.

"call who?" arthur asked, stopping at a traffic light and reaching for his sister's hand.

"pierre. things haven't been right between us for a long time."

arthur frowned, but he didn't say anything. he wasn't sure if there was anything for him to say. he never had been the sibling who dealt with emotions the best. that had always been lorenzo's job.

"i gave him everything, arthur. my time, my energy." she paused, covering her mouth as she felt a sob wrack her body, mascara tears dropping onto her fingers. "my virginity." she managed to cough out. "and he's been avoiding me ever since."

arthur paused, stopping the car in the shoulder of the empty monte carlo street, flicking on his hazard lights before he undid his seatbelt and leaned over the console to wrap his baby sister in his arms.

they may have been twins, but arthur was born exactly three minutes and forty-five seconds first, making him the older brother by default, and that was a job that he took very seriously.

he knew the weight of that statement more than he should have. while arthur and charles, and god, even lorenzo, had been sexually adventurous from the moment they turned sixteen, their sister didn't see life like that. she had barely even dated. she hadn't gone on her first date until she was nineteen years old, and there had only been three dates with him before she got scared and broke it off.

arthur knew how big a deal it was that she had felt comfortable enough with someone to give up that part of herself, to feel that vulnerable.

"when did that happen?"

"suzuka." she swallowed, reaching into the glove compartment for a box of tissues. "and it's not that i didn't enjoy it..."

"he didn't know he was your first, did he?" arthur said softly, tracing circles on his sister's shoulder as he held her. "let me guess, you got scared, and you shut down. maybe he was too rough with you for your first time. i was always scared that this would happen, i just never thought it would be with pierre gasly of all people."

"except i wasn't the one who stopped all contact when things got weird. that was all him, arthur. he was gone by morning and things haven't felt right since."

she sat there in arthur's arms, the hazard lights on the cherry red ferrari blinking in the dark night air as she thought about japan. how distraught pierre had been after the race, when he called her and said that he didn't want to be alone. she had shown up with a box of pizza and a case of japanese beer.

she thought about how she had ended up with his lips on hers, her bra thrown over a lamp. her fists clenching the sheets as pierre took her from behind, moaning his name until her throat was dry and her voice was hoarse. how aroused she had been when his large hands spanked her, leaving a red mark on her ass.

how the bed had been cold and empty when she woke up the next morning, pierre gasly's arms no longer around her.

she wasn't quite sure if she had been okay since.

the second call.

she had finally done it. taking the pain she felt after what happened with pierre, she hunkered down with her laptop and she finished her manuscript. every emotion, every shred of anger had been poured out on the pages, the words written in times new roman scribbled across the page.

and now, she was standing in the middle of waterstones, in the middle of london, stacks upon stacks of her book surrounding her.

and with the phone in her hand, her thumb itched to press the 'call' button next to pierre's name. he had been the number one supporter of her novel when she started writing. he had wanted an advance readers copy signed sealed and delivered to his apartment in milan.

she'd been watching the doors all night, hoping that he would walk in.

and she hated herself for being disappointed when he didn't.

his name had made it into the acknowledgments. trying to keep her brothers' careers separate from her own, all her acknowledgments had been done with initials. CL. PG. AL.

"you should be enjoying your party, y/n. is everything okay?" charles asked softly, passing her a glass of champagne. "you're waiting for pierre, aren't you?"

y/n coughed, trying not to let on to her older brother that he was right. "who told you?"

"arthur. you know that he can't keep a secret for shit."

"i didn't want you to know, charles. he's your best friend. i feel like i'm forcing you to choose sides."

charles shook his head, pulling his sister in for a hug, despite her protests. "there aren't any sides to choose, y/n. he's always going to be my best friend, but you're my sister. and the way he's been acting is unreasonable. in fact, if he had the nerve to show up tonight, we'd probably both end up in the drunk tank."

“but he should be here, charles. I probably wouldn’t have ever entertained this fucking fever dream without him.” she said quietly, resting her face on her brothers shoulder. “I don’t know what to do. I want him back, even if he doesn’t want me. why can’t I move on?”

"it's okay, y/n. it's okay." charles soothed, smoothing out his baby sister's hair. "being emotional is a strength, kiddo. one day, you're going to find someone who loves you back the same way that you love them. and if he hurts you, i'll break his knees."

y/n chuckled. "all you would need to do is put him in the car with mattia on the radio."

charles groaned. "don't even start! i'd break my own knees if it meant our strategy team pulled their shit together."

the third call.

the sun was setting over the sand and the palm trees in abu dhabi as y/n and her brother sat in the paddock, drink glasses in hand, sunglasses pulled over eyes. the paddock in abu dhabi had always been one of her favourites.

the last few months had been good to her. her book had made it onto the new york times' bestseller list, and she was trending on booktok. she had gone out with her high school best friend, taking a week in austria to just exist without expectations.

she finally felt like she was in a good headspace. her stomach didn't hurt when she thought about pierre gasly, and she didn't feel like crying when she thought about suzuka.

she was finally okay.

she looked out from the patio of ferrari's hospitality suite, her sunglasses on her forehead and her skin toned pink from the sunset, and that's when she saw him.

pierre gasly was walking through the paddock, his snapback on backwards and the top three buttons on his linen shirt undone. he looked every bit as good as he had when he was leaning over her, the metal of his cross necklace cool against her breasts as he kissed her.

"y/n." lorenzo said softly, poking her in the shoulder. "try not to think about it. you've made so much progress, don't let it all come undone now."

but she was in a much better place. now, instead of sobbing or yelling down the phone, she felt ready to have a proper conversation with the man who took every part of her and shattered it when he waited until she was asleep to slip out of the hotel suite.

she went inside the cherry-red building, ordering a hot chocolate before pulling her phone out of her back pocket and circling back to that same damn contact.

pierre 🍐.

and this time, she called him.

and he didn't answer.

even though it shouldn't, it stung.

she hung up without leaving a message.

the fourth call.

it was christmas eve, snowflakes falling past the windows of pascale leclerc's monaco home. all of her children were gathered in the living room, the lights on the christmas tree dialed up to full intensity as charles filled the small glasses with eggnog. in the living room, lorenzo and arthur were already buzzed, singing 'fairytale of new york' at the top of their lungs, arms over shoulders.

"charles, let me help." y/n insisted with a chuckle, taking two of the glasses from her older brother.

"i've got it, y/n." charles insisted. "go have fun with arthur and lorenzo!"

y/n snorted. "they're drunk, singing christmas carols at the top of their lungs. i think i'll take a hard pass on that one."

charles laughed. "fair enough. okay, you take three glasses and i'll take three, meet you in the living room?"

"sounds fair."

charles took the first few glasses and slipped out of the kitchen, leaving the last three on the island for y/n to take. as she reached for the first glass, her phone, which was sitting facedown on the counter, buzzed twice.

pierre 🍐: merry christmas y/n! sending my love to you and the family.

her heart skipped a beat as she read the message. the first communication with any feeling since that night in japan.

y/n: merry christmas pierre. can we talk?

she should have waited for him to text her back before she called him. the dial tone rang once before she was forwarded to his voicemail, the iphone buzzing again in her palm.

pierre 🍐: i can't talk right now, y/n. i'm with my family.

fucking fine, then.

she shut her phone off, grabbing one of the small glasses of eggnog and downing it in one gulp.

and the time that he called her.

it was saturday night in bahrain when pierre finally called her. he'd screwed up in qualifying with his new team, and he would be setting up at the very back of the grid the following day for the race.

she was already halfway back to her rental car when pierre called her, the keys to her bmw dangling from her fingers.

"we need to talk. there are some things i need to tell you."

"that's an ominous way to start a phone call, gasly."

"now isn't the time for jokes, y/n. i'm serious, we need to talk about suzuka."

"why now, pierre?"

"because i hurt you, and i'm sorry. charles told me what's going on with you."

charles marc herve perceval leclerc, you son of a bitch.

"fine. you can buy me dinner while you're at it."

the air was icy in the restaurant as pierre and y/n sat in the corner booth. neither wanted to be the one to speak first. drinks had been ordered and delivered while y/n worked out what she wanted to say to him.

how hurt she really was.

"y/n." pierre started slowly. "i'm so sorry about japan, and everything that happened after. i was acting like a jerk, and i shouldn't have shut you out like that."

"so why did you, gasly?" y/n said softly, picking at the pasta dish in front of her.

"i didn't leave you in bed that morning. i went to buy us coffee. i swear i left you a note on the bedside table. you were exhausted and," he hesitated. "when we were lying in bed together, you mumbled something as you were falling asleep, i don't even think you knew what you were saying. but you said 'that's one hell of a way to lose your v-card'. knowing that i treated you like that for your very first time, that i was the first person to have touched you like that. . . i don't know, i think a part of me was ashamed."

"i didn't see a note, pierre. there was nothing on the bedside table when i woke up. just think about how i felt for a minute, would you?" y/n scoffed. "i got vulnerable with you, i let you do things to me that no man had ever done before. i let you spank me, for god's sake!"

"keep your voice down!" pierre hissed, overtly conscious about the eyes on him throughout the resteraunt.

there were some things that the general public just didn't want, or need, to hear.

"and you never thought to call? never thought to check in with me later?"

pierre shook his head. "when i got back, the note was under the bed. i wasn't sure if you had read it and cast it aside, or if it had gotten blown off the table by the door or something. i just assumed that you didn't want to talk to me again."

"and then i texted you at christmas."

"and then you texted me at christmas." pierre nodded. "can we start over, y/n? i really like you, and it kills me to know that i fucked up."

y/n reached over the table, taking his hand in hers. "we really are shit at communicating, aren't we?"

pierre laughed. "so i've been told."

y/n laughed, withdrawing her hand. "hi, i'm y/n leclerc, nice to meet you."

pierre smiled. "what are you doing?"

"starting over."

"hi, y/n. i'm pierre. it's lovely to meet you too."

#pierre gasly #pierre gasly x reader #f1 x reader #f1 imagine #alpine f1 #pierre gasly x y/n #Spotify

[dearshelby]

The observer | T.S

Summary: Once you've learnt Thomas Shelby rules Birmingham, you were convinced he was the only person able to help you. However, Tommy is not a man of favors, he's a man of exchanges.

A/N: This is for Madelyn's (@jomarch-wannabe) celebration! Just before I posted it I realized the summary is a bit suggestive 😅 There's nothing nsfw here tho, it's actually a bit angsty. I decided to use the prompt "I've got my eye on you" bc it gave me much freedom for any ideas I could have, hope you like it 💞

Tommy's been watching you since you started to show up at the Garrison, asking questions and keeping your head low. Arthur was the one to notice you first, the discreet lady sitting on the corner, not drinking more than a single beer and staying around for two or three hours every day. The family had enough problems already, they'd hate you to become another one.

To soothe Tommy's suspicious nature, boys followed you on the streets and much to their surprise, you never did anything strange. You knew you were being watched, it'd be impossible to get close to Thomas if he labeled you as a threat and he was your only chance.

It took months for you to really find him, everyone knew who the peaky blinders were, but not many were willing to give information about them. As if Birmingham was ruled by mysterious faces, hidden behind razor blades and an awful reputation.

On a rainy Monday morning, you waited for the pub to open, usually Arthur did it, not that morning though. You watched Tommy quickly unlocking the door, entering the building before getting soaked. That was the perfect moment, you had to talk to him.

Rushing under the thick raindrops, your eyes scanned the place, he was nowhere to be seen, however you could hear his voice coming from the backroom. Realizing he was on the phone, you waited.

Air becomes scarcer as minutes go by, you planned everything you'd say and yet, your body tenses up to the thought of being face to face with him. If he denied your request, you'll have wasted months of searching.

His imposing figure finally showed up, not seeming surprised by your presence, squinting his eyes, he sized you up.

"Finally decided to make a move?" his cold voice cut the tense silence.

"W-what?" you stuttered, he didn't sound like you expected.

"I've got my eye on you, for months now, since you started to attend my fucking pub asking about me,"

"I know," you admit, "I've been trying to get to you because I know nothing happens in this city without your knowledge,"

"How did you find me?" he asked and you sensed his dangerous undertone.

"Everyone knows who you are," you hesitated, scared to give the wrong answer.

"How?" he repeated, impatient.

"My sister went missing ten years ago, police dropped the case, they never really tried to find her so now I am," you explained, "and people told me they saw someone who matches her description here in Birmingham, I've learnt you control everything that happens here so I want your help,"

Tommy's jaw clenched, you couldn't tell what went through his mind as he watched you. With his slow, positive nod, an ounce of hope blossomed inside you and quickly vanished with his next words.

"What else people told you? That I do charity work?"

"Mr. Shelby, I-"

You stopped talking to watch him walk behind the counter, taking two glasses and pouring whiskey. He gestured for you to have a seat, lighting up a cigarette while you obeyed.

"Hm?" he hummed.

"I know you're a busy man, but without the police, without anyone's help, I'll never see my sister again, please," you begged, "don't you have a sister of your own?"

Listening to your reasoning, Tommy's features softened up, but hardened again to the talk of his sister. He knew you weren't aware of Ada, he only hated to be pressured with mentions of family bonds.

"What do you want me to do? Put my men on the street to search for a woman they don't know, without a picture or exact description?" he questioned with a hint of irony, "Why to find a woman who doesn't want to be found?"

"What makes you think she doesn't want to be found?" you frowned.

"If this woman you're looking for is in fact your sister, she'd have gone back home, eh? Searched for you,"

Your shoulders dropped at his explanation, you understood the logic behind it, just didn't want to believe your sister was gone. Surely, maybe the woman wasn't her, but what if it was? What if it was and you gave up finding her? You couldn't afford the doubt and if Thomas Shelby didn't want to help you, then damn him.

"I see," guzzling down the whiskey, you headed out, "sorry for wasting your time then,"

Before reaching the door, you heard a deep sigh from him, a tired, slightly frustrated sound.

"Wait," he stopped you, "if I were to help you, it wouldn't be cheap, I can't make my men look for a faceless woman for free,"

"I can't pay it either," you turned to him, "tried a private detective once, it's too expensive,"

"Well, there's something you can do,"

You gulped at his suggestion, dealing with men of his sort and much worse for the last few months, you've learnt sex pays for almost everything. You never indulged though, viewing it as not worthy.

"Yes?"

"You've been looking for your sister for months, you managed to find me," Tommy drawled, "I need people like you in my business, observers, my eyes when I'm away,"

"For how long?"

"Until we find her,"

"No," you denied, not interested on the risk of ending up working for a gang forever, "if we're doing this I want a contract of employment stipulating an exact date,"

An entertained smirk crept into his face and he took a piece of paper and a pen from his pocket, writing something in it.

"This is my office's address, be there today at five o'clock,"

"What for?"

Checking his pocket watch, Tommy lastly explained while walking to the exit, "To sign your contract,"

Alone in the pub, you sighed in relief, a smile grew on your lips. With his help, you'd see your sister again, you were sure of it.

#tommy shelby x reader #peaky blinder imagine #peaky blinder fanfic

[asmutwriter]

The Gangsta's Wife (Part 3)

DESCRIPTION: The Shelby's have started to welcome you slowly into the family and start to show you how the business works but things take a dark turn.

A/N: I am hoping to write a lot more over the upcoming weeks of the various stories I'm writing. However I am not sure when I will be able to write them or post them. I will try and do it as often as possible.

WORD COUNT: 2418

From Beginning / Previous / Next / Master List  

WARNINGS: swearing, threatening of violence, mildy toxic relationship

DISCLAIMERS

This is fiction. Please always talk to your partner before doing anything and make sure they are ok with what you are doing beforehand

This story will not follow the timeline of the show. But I hope you enjoy.

You sit in the gambling shop. Waiting for the rest of the family to show up. Arthur and John walk in, their cheery mood cut short as they see you. "What are you doing here?" Arthur says.

"I was asked to join this meeting by Mr Shelby"

"You aren't part of this family. And this is a family meeting. So get the fuck out"

"She won't do that" Tommy says as he walks into the room. "She is my wife and therefore a member of the family. So she should get a say in how we run our business. Understood?" he looks at his brothers who stay silent. The lack of an answer being enough for him apparently "good. Now we just wait for Pol". As if on cue she walks through. The soft smile on her face dropping as she walks into the room, seeing you.

"Why is she here?"

"Because she's family" Thomas says. She looks at him. A silent look being exchanged between the two of them before he keeps talking "I had a discussion with her last night and she says she wants to be a part of this business. So Florence will be joining us for future meetings. If you have a problem with that then you can talk to me about it afterwards" he looks at everyone in the room before he talks again.

"Our first matter is about Harry Thompson. He has been bribing our men. He has a lot of money and power so has been able to take some of our good men. Making them fight for him and not for us. Arthur, John, and myself are meeting with him later today. We are going to negotiate with him to leave Birmingham"

He takes out a cigarette, lighting it and quickly puffing on it before speaking again. "The second matter is regards to our money. I've had to relocate it due to someone deciding to take a large sum of it. I'm working on finding out who and I will deal with them when the time comes. But I trust everyone in this room to know that I have moved it to a safe in the Garrison". He takes another puff of his smoke "would anyone like to add anything else?". Soft no's being heard around the room.

"If that's everything then we should be going. Arthur. John" he heads out the room. His brothers following him. As the door shuts you go to head out as well. Polly walks in front of you, facing you as you stop in your tracks. The fun and friendly atmosphere (the small amount of it anyway) changing in a heartbeat as she keeps her eyes on yours.

"What are you playing at?"

"Excuse me?" you hear the front door shut. Knowing its just you and your aunt-in-law remaining in the house.

"We both know that I told Thomas about you eavesdropping on him. Yet now you've worked your way into the family meeting. I want to know what you did to him" you stay silent. Eyes on hers as she gives you a glare very similar to that of your husbands.

"We did have a discussion. We talked about the situation that you brought up to him. It's sorted now. I simply told him the truth"

"About the rats?" she scoffs before you can answer "Only an idiot would take that story of rats in walls and all that crap. I'm not an idiot Florence. I know you're up to something"

"I'm not up to anything Miss Gray. He asked me for the truth and I gave it to him. He is my husband, I have no intentions to lie to him. If he asks me for the truth I'll give him the truth. It doesn't give me any benefits to lie to him" she comes close to you, pulling a long needle from her hair as she holds it close to your throat. Feeling the end of it nipping at your neck. You tense every muscle in your body as to not flinch away. Clenching your fists in an effort to stop them shaking.

"I don't know what kind of spell you've put Tommy under but I will break it. He will see the manipulation you've put onto him. Then I'll sit back and watch with pleasure as he breaks you". Although you felt a fear in your body you maintained eye contact with her as you manage to keep your composure. A few beats of silence before she moves the needle away. Placing it back into her hair as she straightens out her jacket before walking out of the room. Letting out a breath you weren't aware that you were holding.

You go back to your house. Going inside you shut your eyes. Back pressed against the door as you let the full fear finally catch up to you. Taking a few deep breaths before opening your eyes again. Feeling tears pricking at them as you straighten out your dress. Hands shaking over the soft material. One day you'll be able to be in this family and not have your life threatened by one of them. Pushing your hair behind your ears.

You look at the small table in your hallway. A letter adressed to you written onto it. You pick it up, recognising the handwriting you open it quickly.

'Dear Florence,

I am celebrating my 40th birthday party this weekend at my house up in London. I would love if you could join. Feel free to bring any plus one that you have. Come on the Saturday morning and stay the night. I hope to see you then.

Your friend,

Vanessa Smith'

You smile at the kind words. Folding the letter and placing it back into the envelope. Not realising how much you needed a friendly note. You went upstairs and placed it onto your bedside table.

You spent the day doing your house hold chores. Cleaning, cooking, so on and so on. So when you'd put the girls to bed you retired yourself. Grabbing a cup of tea and a book as you do some light reading in the comfort of your bed after a busy day of house work. The door opens to your bedroom, an obvious attempt to be quiet as its slowly opened. You look at the doorway, seeing Thomas walking in. You go slightly tense as you see him. You hadn't seen him since this morning so you were still slightly tense from the interaction you had with him and his family. But you try and hide it quickly by smiling sweetly at him. He shuts the door behind him, turning to look at you.

"Did I wake you?" you shake your head

"No I was reading"

"At this late hour?" you tilt your head slightly, a soft frown on your brow as he looks at his pocket watch "its nearly two in the morning"

"Fuck" you let out a soft laugh as you look away from him. "I wondered why I was tired". He starts to disrobe as you continue speaking "how did the meeting with Mr Thompson go?".

"It went well" you nod slightly. Moving a few items from your bedside table to make room for your book. He starts to unbutton his shirt "who's the letter from?"

"Oh" you look at the envelop in your hand then back at him "its just from my friend up in London. She's having a party but I probably wont go". He undoes the last button of his shirt, keeping the fabric over his shoulders as he reaches a hand forward

"May I read it?". Although he asks it as a question, and although you know you have every right to say no, you obediently hand him over the envelope. Wanting to show him that you have nothing to hide and that you will be truthful with him. He takes it out, reading the letter quickly. A flash of emotion going through his eyes as he reads the paper. "Why weren't you going?"

"Its' a full weekend and I wouldn't like to leave my sisters for that long. Plus its a long way to go by myself" he nods. Placing the paper back into the envelope before handing it back to you.

"I think we should go"

"We?"

"Yes. We are married and it says that you can bring a plus one. It makes the most sense to take your husband. How about it, eh?"

"I can't leave Elizabeth and Mary for that long. I-"

"John and Arthur will be here to look after them. Make sure they stay out of trouble" you scoff slightly, causing him to give you a look of confusion

"All do respect to your brothers but they're the likeliest to get them into trouble". A smile ghosts his lips as he nods

"I agree with you on that one" he thinks for a moment "I'll ask Ada to come over. She can help run my businesses whilst I'm away, plus she can keep an eye on yor sisters for you. Would that be better for you?". You bite at your bottom lip

"I wouldn't want to be any trouble to her. If its an inconvenience for her then I'd rather just not go" he nods slightly as he takes his shirt off fully, placing it over the chair in the room. He has his back to you as he undoes his trousers

"I'll ask her tomorrow. See what she says"

It was Saturday morning. Thomas had asked his sister a few days ago to which she had said yes. To be honest, you were hoping she'd say no. But here she was, Thomas telling her everything that she needed to know the day you were meant to be going. You did feel a lot happier leaving your sisters and house with Ada in charge, but that doesn't mean you were overly excited about leaving as a whole. Your sister in law seeming to see this, coming over to you and taking your hands in hers after you've placed your belongings into the back of the car.

"I promise that I will look after your sisters. I did last time you went away" she smiles softly at you as you nod. Gripping her hands tightly before letting go.

"Thank you Miss Thorne" she keeps her smile soft as you let go of her hands, tucking your hair behind your ears as you then bite at your thumb.

"Have you got everything you need?" she asks. You nod in response, motioning at a trunk in the back of the car

"Got a nice outfit for both me and Mr Shelby for when we get there, then a normal yet fancy outfit for Sunday when we drive back" she nods as you straighten out your dress "I should go and say goodbye to Lizzie and Mary. Excuse me" you go inside, poking your head into the living room. "Girls?" They both turn to face you, the older not looking at you as she folds her arms over her torso. Mary speaks up

"Do you have to go?" you nod, going over and kneeling in front of them

"I'm sorry girls. But you'll have a great time with Miss Thorne. Do as she asks ok? Please?" Mary nods. You look at Lizzie, who feels your eyes on her. Giving a very, very slight nod. You smile, a sadness in your eyes as you hug them both. "I love you two. So very much. I'll see you on Sunday, ok?" more nodding as they hug you back. Well, the younger does. The older keeps her arms folded as you force the affection onto her. You move away from them, smiling as you stand up. Going back out to the car you say goodbye to Ada who is still waiting. Getting into the car next to Tommy as he starts driving.

You arrive at your destination. A man comes over to your car after you park "any luggage?" you nod, motioning behind you and into the car. He nods, grabbing your bags "please follow me". You get out the car, following behind the man as Thomas stands next to you. Taking in the ornate building in front of you. You get to the entry way of the house. "If you'd like to follow me down this way, your rooms are on the first floor" you go to follow just as you hear a voice speaking.

"I don't believe it. Florence?" you turn, seeing your friend walking down the staircase. She nearly runs as she comes over and hugs you. You hug her back "You actually came". She moves away from the hug, holding your face between her palms as she looks at you, causing you to smile. She drops your face as she sees Thomas, her smile not faltering as she looks at him "and who is this?". He holds his hand out for her to shake

"Thomas Shelby. Florence's husband". Her smiles wavers marginally at the name. But she takes his hand, shaking it.

"Vanessa Smith". She looks at you as she drops his hand "You didn't tell me you got married?" she looks at you

"Its a recent thing, only happened a few months ago" she nods slightly, looking at the man as he keeps his eyes on her. "When are your other guests arriving?" you ask

"Some are already here. They are in the living room" she holds her hand out for you to take "I must show you your room for the weekend though". You take both her hands as she leads you to your room. Thomas following behind. Going into the bedroom you beam as you look around

"Its beautiful" you whisper. Going over to the wooden furniture, running your hand over the delicate features.

"I will leave you two alone. Guests are arriving at 2 so you have a couple of hours before then" she smiles "please come join me once you've settled" she turns, walking out the door and shutting it behind her. You hear the tapping of her heels on the floor outside. You go over to your bags, opening it and rummaging through. Finding your perfume you spray some of it onto your wrists and neck. Placing it back into your bag before turning to Thomas

"We should go and see them Mr Shelby" he nods, holding his arm out for you to take. Which you do.

TAGS

@whorecrux-of-slytherin

Previous / Next

#cillian murphy #cillian murphy fluff #cillian murphy angst #cillian murphy smut #peaky blinders #peaky blinders angst #peaky blinders smut #peaky blinders fluff #thomas shelby #tommy shelby #thomas shelby smut #tommy shelby angst #tommy shelby fluff #peaky blinders tommy #peaky blinders tommy angst #peaky blinders tommy fluff #peaky blinders tommy smut #tommy x reader #thomas x reader #smut #angst #fluff #thomas shelby x reader #tommy shelby x reader #tommy smut #tommy angst #tommy fluff #thomas angst #thomas fluff

[hamiltonfilms]

I dress for revenge 💋 star in nyc

INSTAGRAM AU/STORY

pairing : Arthur Leclerc x Verstappen!reader

summary : because of arthur your heart is broken you think he doesn't care about you

warning: kinda smut, adult language, protective older brother max, alcohol, Arthur is a dick, crying, mention of cheating, some dialogue from euphoria because it fit here, Horner

a/n: so I decided to write a continuation so keep reading and I hope you like it, if you want to be tagged let me know, remember that these events and characters were invented and did not exist like Dennis' cheating girlfriend <3 Also remember that English is not my first language so I apologize in advance for any mistakes and sorry for mistakes but dutch is partly from the translator and partly by me hahah

part 1 / part 2

Sunday 19:01

"fuck" were the only words I said when I saw what time it was. Dennis was already waiting at the door, knocking.

"Just a minute because I'm not ready" I let him in while giving him a hug. "It's okay and one more thing you look gorgeous"

All I did was smile and went on to get ready, even though I p3, it still needs to be celebrate. I knew my brother and his bunch of idiot friends would be there too, which wasn't a very happy thing for me. My mood sucked I didn't really want to go to that club but even less did I want to feel my heart breaking In fact I don't want to feel anything so I stick to it to get drunk and feel like any girl my age. Now I only have one little case or more missions in my little black dress that's too tight, today I don't care about Arthur, only me that counts.

"Everything's fine suddenly you somehow thought?" it was even sweet. My friendship with Dennis was strange and misunderstood to some people at first everyone thought we were a couple but it never was, even though I admit that at the beginning of karting I had a crush on him.

"Yeah it's ok, will you help me with the necklace" He just smiled and got out of bed and helped me. He hugged me and I felt better again "you look really good like a bitch who will show the boy where he belongs" I turned to him and smiled too "Denny sometimes I wonder if I deserve you and until earlier today my look is revenge"

I sat on the passenger side of Dennis' car and we headed towards the club where everyone was supposed to be, I looked at the clock in the car and it was 7:40 pm I thought we wouldn't be late much, it's almost nothing. The road didn't take long so we quickly went inside and I saw our group but we had to go first past my brother's friends I felt heightened even someone whistled at me but I saw Max's overprotective gaze which didn't bode well. Suddenly I heard a whistle at me but already in our group of friends it was Jüri so I just smiled "what a chick. I'm sorry Dennis who is your companion?"

"It's sweet Jüri, you won't know your biggest nightmare in life and on the track" I started laughing with the whole group and I already had time to say hello to everyone "God what did you do with our sweet shy y/n?" Jüri was joking but I didn't mind it even funny because everyone expected me dressed in trousers and some kind of T-shirt and instead I had makeup stylized hair black little tight dress and heels which is the opposite of me but in the end I looked similar to girls of other drivers. I felt the jealous eyes not only of Arthur but also of some of Max's friends looking at me from top to bottom but I didn't care today this evening was mine and I was supposed to be the center of attention. But I could exaggerate, for example, I mixed alcohols instead of drinking only one here a little vodka, champagne, whiskey, beer or even some strange colored drinks.

Suddenly I got dizzy so I went out onto the patio, sat on the ground and tried to light a cigarette, which probably wasn't sensible under the influence of alcohol. Suddenly, I felt someone approaching me, I didn't really look who because I honestly didn't care. "Hi you look very cute" at first I thought it was some old creep but I saw in the corner of my eye it was Pierre so I tried to ignore him but he wouldn't let go. "fuck off Pierre I'm not interested" but that only made him smile which didn't mean anything good. "You pretend to be untouchable I like it as much as you in that dress" he placed his hand on my thigh which gave me goosebumps and made me uncomfortable but just in time my brother showed up "hey get your hands off her asshole" he crouched down to me and he had already gone "look at me, are you okay? did he manage to do anything to you besides what I saw how it would kill the son of a bitch" I heard a note of aggression in his voice but it was loved as much because he always defended me as needed "not everything ok but it was scary, go have fun don't worry about me i'll be going back to the hotel anyway" all i saw was a smile on his face "sure princess but if you are in danger or need to be taken away call me." it was cute he always called me princess when i was younger and took care of me. But I went back to the party with Dennis, who seemed curious as to why I wasn't around so much. "My excuse for why I wasn't that much was because I probably could have been dragged to fuck but luckily Max saved me and I'm partially sober so I need a drink" Dennis immediately spit out what he was drinking shocked as he realized "What are you okay? do you want to go back to the hotel?” I looked at him with a slight smile "give me a minute because I want to stay longer" he nodded and went back to talking to someone. "Ugh. Tequila makes me want to dance." it flowed out of my mouth "so dance with me" I heard Denny tell me so I jumped up as did he. He put his hands on my waist and I on his shoulders and we started to dance I noticed that everyone started to be jealous but Arthur probably the most because he turned red and went somewhere and all I heard was a chit in my ear "we made it" which made a slight giggle from my lips. I thanked for the dance and went to the restroom before I was alone, someone accosted me and I heard "Who the hell do you think you are?" I turned around and saw it was Arthur. "I'm sorry but I don't know what you're talking about" and I tried to walk away but he wouldn't let go and I heard something that hurt me. " You think I'm here because I'm interested in you? What do you have to say? Or what do you think about different things like you're so damn interesting? Hey. I'm going to be honest with you because no one else will. Any guy who says, that he's interested in more than just fucking you, he's full of shit. So good luck with your boyfriend." I started to cry because it was true it couldn't be "Wow that bitch can cry" it was too much I couldn't take it anymore

"You know what I honestly wouldn't give a shit what you said but I don't you act like a fucking punk then all of a sudden she's your girlfriend, she's Dennis's ex-girlfriend who cheated on him not that she didn't do it now cuz look in the restroom next door cuz she's fucking some dude right now and she was only into your brother that's why she was with you from what she said you know what it doesn't matter today I don't care about such a dick like you so fuck off" I felt good when I finally said it and left "y/n sorry stop I didn't mean to" all I did was stick my middle finger out at him and went looking for Dennis.

"I'm going to the hotel, let's see it's 4.06 am and I have a flight to Monaco at 4 pm so see you at the next race and have a nice winter break" I said goodbye to everyone and went with Denny to the car and briefly told him the whole situation and I only heard how I finished "What did he say?! what a dick he is, hey remember that's not true we all like you for your personality jokes or professionalism at the track" a smile appeared on my face. He walked me to the door and he went to his room. I had changed my clothes, washed off my makeup and tied my hair comfortably. Even before going to bed, I managed to quickly post on insta from today.

y/nverstappen

liked by pierregasly, maxverstappen1, oscarpiastri, dennis_hauger and others

tagged: dennis_hauger oscarpiastri juri_vips liamlawson30

yn/verstappen After Hour

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dennis_hauger cool kids never sleep, they just party

yn/verstappen of course, what did you think?

yourbestfriend what did you do with my y/n where is it?

yn/verstappen here and where do you think?

y/nlovver yass we need more y/n in this context

arthurandy/nfanss y/n in her heartbreak era!! our queen slaying icon

13.03 pm

I heard quite a loud knock on the door which was quite an unusual thing especially in a hotel so I got out of bed but unfortunately my hangover kicked in so the knocking became quite intrusive. "What exactly can I help you with, god Max you couldn't call or something" I gestured him inside and quickly closed the door.

"yet as if you were replying or answering! What a hangover appeared" you could hear a note of sarcasm in his voice. "Get on it because at 7pm I arranged for you to meet Horner because he wanted to so you can thank me because your career may have advanced" he made that proud father smile I've almost never seen in my life. He sat down and waited for me to get up because we were going to have something like lunch this morning anyway, but let's just say my hangover kept me in bed. Looking at the watch on the phone, it was 2 pm, so it's not that bad so we'll have time to eat something before the meeting. the flight passed peacefully I even managed to get some sleep and do my makeup to make myslef look better than now but my flight to monaco was changed to the UK due to a meeting which made me a little stressed I won't say no but I managed to post a few stories.

y/nverstappen added to story

Red Bull Racing headquarters at 7pm

it was 6:58 p.m. and I was standing in front of the office waiting for them to let me in. I felt my legs turn to cotton when it was my turn. I shook my hand to say hello and took a seat. "So y/n I won't beat around the bush you are one of the brightest people on our junior team so we thought we would offer you this project" what came out of Horner's shocked me a bit.

"Wow thank you so much and I think I'll take the offer no matter what it is." I was excited enough that I didn't care what it was and I was going to take it anyway. He explained to me what it would be like, in short, I would drive the car around New York, they would record it and present the Red Bull Racing junior team to the world. However, I didn't have much time because I had to fly out tomorrow, of course I can take Max with me because I found that he is experienced in all this and is my older brother.

"I can't believe my sweet little sister y/n in my car still in New York! You don't even know how proud I am of you" I was shocked because I thought Max would get mad that they would put me in his car with his number on and they say he's proud still.

It was 11 pm and I just entered the apartment monaco was a place I missed but I will spend here until March 18 and we have November 21 of course I will be leaving, like now to nyc. I have a flight tomorrow at 12 am but my brother will pick me up. I finally had time for myself, unpacked the suitcase, put on the laundry and then the dryer and packed up and went to sleep. The alarm clock rang me at 6 am because I need to take care of myself, I got dressed I went for a run after I came back I ate breakfast I took a shower and got dressed it was 8 o'clock so max will arrive in two and a half hours so I decided to watch some series. This time will pass quickly and I don't even know when I found myself on the plane, if this is how my life will look like now, but at least I know what max was up to now. Browsing through instagram, I came across a post and I laughed, I showed my brother because he looked at me with an incomprehensible look, all I heard was "They haven't even been a couple for a week, y/n tell me you didn't do it" I laughed "No of course not" he looked at me seriously " I swear I didn't contribute to this" I went back to instagram.

motosportgossip

liked by arthurandy/nonly pierregasly arthurfan and others

tagged arthur_leclerc randomgirl

motosportgossip our new paddock couple has officially announced the end of their relationship is there a reason why?

see all comments

arthurandy/nforever I respect Arthur but maybe it's time for y/n and him now?

arthurfanss liked by pierregasly?

pearpierre maybe Pierre will give us details, eh?

nlvogue

liked by y/nverstappen, arthur_leclerc, maxverstappen1, oscarpiastri, dennis_hauger and others

tagged : y/nverstappen

nlvogue Y/n Verstappen en haar verschijning in het laatste nummer van Vogue, beschrijft de jonge Formule 2-coureur hoe moeilijk het was om een ​​vrouw te zijn in een sport als f2, terwijl ze toegeeft hoe graag ze vrouw is. Racen is altijd een ontsnapping geweest, en hij geeft toe dat het een stuk makkelijker was met zijn broer aan zijn zijde. Opgegroeid in de racewereld, zus van Max Verstappen, maar vooral bekend om haar geweldige capriolen op de baan, ook wel "black Widow" genoemd of gewoon onze Y/n Verstappen.

Begin december gaat het officieel in de verkoop

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y/nverstappen Ik ben trots op wat uit deze samenwerking naar voren is gekomen 😉

dennis_hauger I don't understand a thing but I'm still proud of you bestie ❤

user33 y/n and vogue and Dutch makes me look forward to more

arthurandy/nfan Arthur liked?!

y/nleclercshouldbe something must be up

...

arthur_leclerc added to story

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y/nverstappen added to story

tagged maxverstappen1, danielricciardo

...

redbullracing

liked by maxverstappen1, y/nverstappen danielricciardo arthur_leclers and others

tagged y/nverstappen

redbullracing we are officially announcing that on March 3rd there will be a new video of the junior project of the red bull team with y/n verstappen who will test our new cars on the streets of new york especially this car number 33 😉💪

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y/nverstappen I'm grateful and I hope it's not the last time haha

y/nloverr y/n driving for red bull still in Max's car and she in the new edition of vogue too much for today

maxverstappen1 I hope my car is in one piece y/n

y/nverstappen do you think i am you?

dennis_hauger I'm proud of you kid

y/nverstappen not that we are the same age but thanks for keeping me in your heart bestie 😘

y/nverstappen

liked by pierregasly, maxverstappen1, oscarpiastri, dennis_hauger and others

tagged: yourbestfriend maxverstappen1 redbullracing

yn/verstappen Karma is the breeze in my hair on the weekend

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redbullracing 💪

yourbestfriend karma is your boyfriend

yn/verstappen of course karma is my boyfriend what did you think

arthur_leclerc Nice jacket I guess

yn/verstappen thanks i guess

y/nleclercshouldbe artur likes and comments again?

user567 maybe they are together but i don't think so

...

----

taglist : @vinylbycas @pospolites-blog @kazikiscool @honethatty12

a/n: wow it came out a bit long but wait for the next parts hah again sorry for mistakes and if you want to be tagged under the next part then text me.

#arthur leclerc imagine #arthur leclerc #arthur leclerc x reader #f1 instagram au #social media au #instagram au #max verstappen x reader #max verstappen #formula 2 x reader #formula 2 imagine #fake instagram #dennis hauger x reader #dennis hauger #instagram edit #hamiltonfilms

[night-daily]

Angeleyes pt 2 | Thomas Shelby x fem!reader

summary: It's Thomas turn to suffer.

warnings: none I guess?

a/n: I really hope you like this 2nd part, let me know what you think!:)

pt 1

It's been almost two years since the last time Thomas saw you and the last time he was sober, everyday was harder. Everyone can see how miserable was the leader of the Peaky Blinders, the one-time intimidating leader was now a living dead with black circles under his eyes but still the people were afraid of him, what is it more dangerous than a man with a broken heart who doesn't have nothing to lose?

Of course, that's how the people saw him but his family was something else. He almost doubted if still they were his family, all of them were on your side since they heard about what he did to you, every time he showed at Polly's house whoever was there would say something hurtful to him.

The day after Thomas cheated on you, after he didn't come after you, you were supposed to go together to a family reunion at The Garrison, now he was going alone even if he misses the touch of your hand on his but he'll never admit not even to himself.

As soon as he entered The Garrison he saw all the Shelby family, Polly, Ada, Arthur, and John were there. He didn't have the chance to sit in his place when Ada spoke out loud.

“I heard a rumor from the streets Tommy, and It better not be true” Ada's voice was sharp. Thomas lights up a cigarette acting indifferent. “But seeing your wife isn't here I assume it's true,” she paused giving him time to cut her off but he remain silent “you cheated on her!” she exclaimed slamming her hands on the table but Thomas didn't flinch. “Why no one says anything?” She was frustrated, Ada have loved you since the first time she met you, you were a great friend and a kind person so of course she was furious.

“Ada, I'm mad but honestly? It isn't a surprise, Thomas always liked to screw the pretty things it was just a matter of time.” Disappointment could be read on Polly's face.

“Why are you siding with her anyways? She's not family. Not anymore.” Thomas scoffed, breaking his silence.

“Because you fucked up, Thomas! Don't you get it? She was the most incredible thing it would ever happen to you and you fucked up.” Ada snapped back to him and stormed out of The Garrison and Polly was behind her.

Now he was alone with his brothers, he was sure they'll support him.

“At least now I can be with any women without sneaking around” But Thomas wasn't sure he wanted to be with another women now that you aren't there, he knew it was hypocrite but like people say ''you never know what you've got till it's gone''

John wasn't sure what to say or do, you were his partner in crime. Did he wanted to mess with someone? He'll go to find you and do crazy shit together but not anymore. “Sure Tommy” He muttered not making eye contact with him.

“But no one will be like her” Arthur said and he wasn't wrong, you changed everything around you, everything was better with you.

“Fuck off, Arthur”

Thomas never had the guts to visit your house after you leave him, it was too painful to remember you. Now he was standing in front of the door part of him waiting for you to welcome him home but now there was just an empty entry. He opened the door stepping into the house, everything was in his place, the chairs, the little table and, your paintings, everything was there except for you.

He begin walking upstairs to your room, he was nervous, what would he find in there? When you leave him he sent his people to look for you but none of them or him had find you, after all, you watched carefully how Thomas ran his business so you learned how to hide from him even when you never thought you will have to do it.

He drank from the alcohol he has with him all the time, when your ghost threat to appears to make him suffer. But this time it wasn't working, he could smell your favorite perfume through the door, excitedly he entered the room and you were there. How's that possible? He couldn't care less, he missed you, he wanted to hold you and kiss you and beg for your forgiveness. He stepped closer to you, lifting his hand to touch but then you turned your face to look at him “ You’re the last person I thought would hurt me” your voice made him hard swallow. “You never came after me Thomas, why?” Your eyes were filled up with tears. “I was about to-” You cut him off laughing dryly. “Don’t you think it’s about time you drop the act?” He avoided your eyes. “You know I'll wait all the time of the world and I did it but you never came.” “ Tell me what I can do to make you forgive me. I need to know how I can fix this!” His lip begins to tremble slightly. His hand went to his jacket, grabbing his pistol “Oh no, Tommy, dead is an easy way for you.” “But I don’t like feeling whatever the hell this is!” He was screaming exasperated on his knees “It's called heartbreak Thomas, bear it” You whispered to his ear “and it's just the beginning.” He ran away from you heading to the bathroom, and then he saw your wedding ring, he still wear it but you don't, did you stopped loving him since that day? He couldn't blame you. He hated himself too. Maybe more than you do.

And you were right, this was a big house but when he was with you, it felt it too small for your hearts and your future together.

tag: @budugu , @minaxcarter

#thomas shelby #thomas shelby x fem! reader #peaky blinders #thomas shelby fanfic #tommy shelby #thomas shelby x you #thomas shelby x reader #thomas shelby x y/n

[regulusrules]

Hi! Okay so you seem like a very well-read person and I’d love to know if you have a list of your favorite Merlin fics. I just bookmarked all the ones you recommended in relation to the 10 best episodes and now I need more! I’m going on a training camp and would love to have something fairly long to download to my kindle so I can read on flights and when I don’t have data 🥰

Thanks so much in advance!

(Also, I LOVE your writing, I’m so glad to be part of this fandom with talented people like you!)

Hey! Thank you so much for your kind words! OF COURSEE I'd love to recommend you some fics! Likewise— the creativity of this fandom never ceases to amaze me :)

*cracks knuckles and pretends my eyes aren't lighting up rn because my time has finally come*

Long fic recs (50K-100K+)

1. to the world that never let you be by ImperialMint. Look. I'll hand out my own throat so willingly to any scar reveal fic. The trope is just so dear to my heart, and this one in particular was something else. It broadly covered every single feeling you might be looking for in a Merlin fic, and its characterization of both Arthur and Merlin was top tier. I basically sell my soul to any fic that does justice to their characterization, and this one did so much more than that.

2. What I'd Have Done by @flight-of-fantasy. I solemnly swear you will never read something like this fic. I read it in one day from how on edge I was all the time. I had to recount it to my friends in the timespan of three hours because of how much screaming and dramatic pauses there was. Simply, the brilliance of plot here is unmatched. Arthur's characterization as a strategist shook my innards, and Merlin's unapologetic nature was chef's kiss. It's so hard not to give away the plot while recommending this so just.. just read it.

3. Redemption by flakedice, Zerda. Soon, you will find a parallel post to the best 10 episodes with the worst 10, featuring first and foremost The Disir. Honest to God, I could literally go on ages ranting about how much agony this episode brought me. It was the blow that awoke my eyes to the possibility of fuck, this show isn't going to end well. I once thought about shitting on that episode like I did with 5×13 in My heart is readily yours, but fics like these hold me back because they already gave us everything. It gave us the ending we deserved. Gold. Everything in this was gold. The world building, the character development, the fact that Arthur has been given time. Truly a fix-it that fix-ed my heart.

4. Talking about deviations from The Fucking Disir, The World I Built for You by Fulgance is a must. It was the first fic I've read from the How They Didn't Find Out (magic reveal one-shots) series, and from then on I was * s o l d *. Whichever fic you decide to read from this, I guarantee you, you will have the time of your life. Fulgance is the one author I will always recommend without a shadow of a doubt. There is not a single work of theirs that will disappoint you. They will only break you.

5. Deep In My Heart I'm Concealing by @citharaposts. True story about this fic, I squealed when I read its summary. “I'm not standing here as a king, Merlin!” was the quickest catalyst to ever make me start a fic. I specifically wrote a spoiler-free comment for the author and left it in the first chapter so that anyone who's thinking about whether or not to go into yet another 100K fic will rest assured that it's an amazing ride. Have real fun with this one.

6. It Was One Kingdom, Once by queerofthedagger. Two things, if they happen, you leave everything behind and go thank your God for blessing you with it: @queerofthedagger posting a new Merlin fic, and it being a Royal Hanahaki AU. Like so many other tropes the author has nailed, this was the best Hanahaki I've ever read (across fandoms). It's so intricate and detailed and the world building is on another level. If our world was burning and I had only one thing to save, it'll be the works of this author.

Hope I helped, and hope you have so much fun in your camp!◕⁠ᴗ⁠◕

[Short fic recs]

#merlin fic recs #the one thing I know how to do #this fandom is sustained by the brilliance of fic writers #we redo bbc writers' shitty work #and we ask nothing but kudos and maybe a fanart every once in a while #merlin #arthur pendragon #bbc merlin #merlin bbc #merthur #ao3 #merlin x arthur #merlin fic #fic recs #king arthur #archiveofourown #bbcm #LJ recs #regulusrules answers #regulusrules recs

[late-to-the-magnus-archives]

Fragile - a Malevlent fic (Intermezzo spoilers)

Arthur got low in Larson’s house. He hit bedrock; he admitted, brokenly, that they won.

John didn’t let him drown. Which is ironic, because John was already drowning.

Spoilers for Intermezzo.

AO3

———-

Humans were fragile.

John knew this. He’d known it since before he was ‘John,’ when wicked memories seeped through the torment of loss and damnation.

Arthur was fragile, too.

John did not know this, and this new and acidic knowledge threatened the unset foundation John had built his everything upon. 

#

Your hands, Arthur. You have broken pieces of his eyes under your thumbnails.

Hardly like John hadn’t done things like that  when King, hadn’t done things like that for Kayne, hadn’t torn people apart until he knew them down to the cellular level. It wasn’t that eyeballs were gross, or the violence was too much; it was that Arthur was the one who did it.

Arthur. Who’d stayed so strong through cult and coma. Who’d kept his head in the prison pits, and forgiven John more than any saint could.

Who’d cut his own damn throat to keep the King from winning.

John knew it had been less than a day for Arthur. (It had been… longer, for him.) Less han a day. How could Arthur change so much in less than a day?

“I…” Arthur sounded fucked.

Instinctively, John tried a lever, tried to use that name to prize Arthur from the mud. Imagine what she would think. Faroe wouldn’t want her father to be this. To lose himself in this way.

The lever did not work, and Arthur slumped down, bleeding, and wept. “I’m lost,” he said, and It was a terrible sound. “I’ve lost. I’ve sunk too far.”

Less than a godsdamned day.

No, said John, scrambling in the wake of shock. I know you, my friend. You are in there. You saved me before. (Arthur had, everything he’d done, everything he’d said, had saved John in the Dark World, had kindled his only lingering light and hope. Arthur could not lose. He could not sink. If Arthur did…)

John vowed: I will not let you drown.

Arthur sobbed.

A good sob? A broken one? Don’t be scared. 

“They’ve won, John,”  Arthur wept in a high, unrecognizable voice. “He won. Faust. I… I wanted to kill him. I wanted to fill his blood within my hands. I wanted to feel the crunch of his bones beneath my palms. They won.”

This couldn’t be happening.

No.

No.

Arthur was his light. Arthur was his hope. The source of a purpose in a life so short, the proof they didn’t have to win!

Kayne’s voice might only be in his head, but it rang cruelly true: If he was this wrong about not letting them win, what does that say about his hope for you?

No!

Humans were fragile. Arthur was less fragile than most, but still human, and John...

John knew what to do. 

He was ashamed of it, this innate, easy understanding of manipulation, of control, of (pleasure it had always brought him pleasure as the King) pretty words to make Arthur do what he wanted, to shift Arthur’s sails and steer him from the rocks.

He felt ill. Sick. He shouldn’t do this. Good people did not think like this.

Would it really be “good” to let Arthur wreck on the rocks of himself?

It would not (and John told himself it was for Arthur’s sake and not to shore up his own cracking foundation), and so John made his choice. Followed his instinct, and manipulated. How could they have won? We’re nowhere near finished.

That was the exact right delivery, and it snagged Arthur’s attention like a lure (fish, Arthur, now caught). 

Next, communication the way Arthur thought in his quietest hours: Whose woods these are, I think I know... Because Arthur thought in music and poems. Because Arthur’s sobs slowed as John quoted, pulling the verses from the shared well of their mind. 

My horse must think it queer, to stop without a farmhouse near... Because Arthur might deny that gloriously artistic part of himself (of which John, as King, was keenly aware), but he could not resist the siren-song of rhythm and introspection and beauty, and he’d listen to this when he’d kick all else in the teeth. 

The woods are lovely, dark, and deep, but I have promises to keep… and miles to go before I sleep. He would not lose this man today (maybe if the King had used poetry instead of compound fractures, he would have gotten somewhere). And miles to go before I sleep.

It worked. (Of course it worked. It had to work. It was back to the Dark World if this didn’t work.) Arthur, as John knew he would, responded. “I’m sorry, John,” he said, and he finally sounded like Arrhur again. “I’m so sorry. For everything.”

(He’d missed him so much, his changeability, his chosen softness.) I’m sorry, too.

“Why? For what? You…”

For what?

For what he’d done to get back here.

For the lies he’d told.

For the wickedness he’d wrought.

For—

For leaving you for so long. But that was too close to the truth of things Arthur must never know. Now. Let’s leave this place.

“No,” said Arthur (because his stubbornness took no time at all to reassert itself). “We need to help those people. Down in the mines.”

And there he was. The Arthur Lester of John’s imagining. The flawed but willingly good human, the anchor to which John clung, the mortal for whom he’d debased himself, for whom he’d died.

He’d done… so many things to stop being dead. Arthur (canonized in memory, precarious on his pedestal) would never understand.

How could he? Arthur was human. Humans were fragile. And even Arthur had people he would not forgive.

He could never know. It’s a new beginning, Arthur. A clean slate. For both of them.

“No, no. Not a clean slate.”

John’s metaphorical heart clenched. No? I thought that’s what you wanted.

“That was easier than to remember what I’ve learned, what I’ve preached, not only to you but myself… that we can’t escape these things we’ve done,” said Arthur, fragile human, with no idea he was telling John that John was beyond hope.

John had to escape the things he’d done. He had to.

This confirmed it all: If Arthur knew what John had done, he’d never forgive him, and that flickering hope-light in would finally go out.

John couldn’t really reply. Okay.

“But it still is another,” said Arthur, sounding like his soul had shed a thousand pounds. “And I’d rather greet a new day like an old friend—with fondness and appreciation.”

Oh, Arthur. How did that fragile hope always survive? (He could never know.) Okay, Arthur.

“My friend. Let’s leave this place.”

And of course, Uncle’s body was still there, still shaking Arthur with reminders of savagery.  “I… I lost…”

Damn it. You’ve beaten yourself up enough over this, Arthur. It’s fine.

It clearly was not fine. “You’re right,” lied Arthur Lester.

Nope. Misdirection time (and John refused to think how easily the manipulation came). Oh! There’s a corpse in the bed.

And just like that, the detective switch was flipped, and finally, Arthur actually was fine.

It would all be fine.

It had to be fine.

The danger was past. John would never, ever need to tell him what he’d done. Arthur would continue to hope in John. It would be fine.

He couldn’t handle all that horror, anyway, John told himself as they dove into mystery and memory. Arthur was fragile, after all.

#malevolent #malevolent fanfic #arthur lester #john malevolent #john & arthur #intermezzo #intermezzo spoilers #malevolent spoilers

[gimmethosedaddymilkers]

Self-Loathing and other wrong doings

Okay! This was requested by an Anon, and it is a modern twist on things with a chubby reader. Arthur's gonna help the reader with those nasty thoughts of hers, and he's gonna make things all better, as he typically does.

I'll have this linked on my modern masterlist once I'm done! and I hope you guys can enjoy this!

You'll have to excuse me, I have to find out where I put my tags list before I can actually tag y'all- just be patient with me if you can! I'll get back into the swing of it!

(Here's one of my Arthur Images from one of my playthroughs lmao)

Warnings: Smut, so 18+, self hate and similar themes, meaning negative thoughts, chubby reader, and female reader, modern AU. Fuck it I'm making arthur chubby too cause I can. I think that should be all!

let's get started!

You stare yourself down in the mirror, your hands placed against your stomach, looking at the way it pudged out, pushed out further than the rest of your body.

It wasn't flat, like it should have been. Perhaps if it was you'd hate yourself less. You had nice hips, and your upper half wasn't bad, but that stomach. It's what makes you upset. What makes you wonder why your amazing boyfriend was even with you in the first place.

Every time you saw yourself in the mirror you couldn't ever manage to feel anything but distain for yourself. You always felt so massive.

You had no idea how Arthur could stand to look at you.

You'd planned on taking a shower, that's why you were in here in the first place, but you no longer had an interest in doing so. Your mind felt dark, your head heavy. You just felt...wrong. Uncomfortable in your own skin.

You quietly redress yourself and then leave the bathroom, shutting off the light and pulling the door shut as you head into the hallway of your home.

You make a beeline for your bedroom, thankful that your breakdown has come on a day off, rather than when you'd been at work.

Crawling into the bed feels better than standing, you pull the covers up to your chin, and lie on your side, curled into yourself, as the tears begin to fall.

Your head screams obscenities at you, talking poorly about yourself to you.

Calling you names that you'd already heard throughout your entire life.

"Fatass."

"Ugly"

"Lard on legs"

You weren't the ideal girl, not to anyone. Not even to yourself. Maybe Arthur was gonna text you one of these days and tell you how disgusting you were, and finally leave you, like you deserved.

The tears get heavier, falling down your face faster as the thought enters your mind.

Arthur was your everything, he meant the world to you. If he left you, what would become of you? You'd spiral without him. You know you would. Hell you were spiraling now, and he hadn't even said anything to you.

You're in the middle of wiping the tears on your face when your phone rings, vibrating on the mattress beside you. As if he knew you were thinking about him, his name flashes on the screen, Arthur, with a little heart next to it.

You sniffle and hope you won't sound too bad when you answer, and pick up the phone, turning on speaker phone.

"Hey darlin'! I jus' got outta work, I'm headed your way, figured since you were off I'd just swing by and stay the night with ya, so long as you don't mind."

"That's fine, Love." You answer, swallowing at the thought of him joining you. You'd have to pull yourself together.

"You alright? You sound like you've been cryin' Princess..."

"'M fine Art, just...thinkin'."

"Well, I'll be there in....fifteen minutes at the most, and we'll talk about whatever's botherin' you, I can't have ya cryin' on me now."

He chuckles, and it warms your chest, even over the phone he eases your senses, what would you do when he finally opened his eyes and realized what you looked like?

"Okay, I'll see you then Art."

"I love ya Sweetheart."

"I love you too."

He seems hesitant to hang up, but after a moment he does and leaves you in silence once again.

Your tears continue to come, no matter how much you try to get them to stop, they just keep coming.

Before you realize it, you hear the door open and the sound of Arthur's footsteps as he makes his way down the hall to your room.

He stands in the doorway, and looks at you, and when you turn your head to look at him the look on his face only makes your heart pang worse.

"Oh...Darlin' what are you cryin' for? What's goin' on?"

He wastes no time moving to the bed, kicking off his work boots before he climbs in and cradles you into his chest, and you expected it to comfort you, which, it did, however, you didn't expect to start crying harder.

"Hey now..."

He hushes you and you feel his hand come to your hair, gently petting your head, trying to make you feel more comfortable.

"Talk to me Princess...what's goin' on?"

You swallow and look up at him as your tears fall down your face.

"How can you love someone like me Arthur? Someone who looks like me, who...who's disgusting?"

Arthur looks back at you with a facial expression that you can only describe as...offended.

"The hell are you talkin' about woman?"

"How can you love me, when I look like this?"

"Y/N, what on earth do you mean?"

You huff and stand, grabbing his wrist and pulling him out of the bed. You drag him down the hall and into the bathroom. You flip the light switch on and look directly into the mirror.

"Look at me."

You mumble.

"Look at the way I'm shaped, the way my body looks. I'm not skinny, I'm not flat. I'm uneven, lumpy...disgusting. Why are you still here? Why haven't you left me and found someone who deserves you? Why are you still with me, when I'm nothing?"

Arthur's brow furrows and a frown covers his face as he looks in the mirror at your form. He turns and grabs your shoulders, forcing you too look at him.

"Y/N, what the fuck did you just say to me?"

"Why are you still here?"

"Because I wanna be! Cause I love ya damnit! I never wanna hear you talk about yourself like that ever again. Never."

"I'm telling the truth!"

"The hell if you are."

His expression goes soft and he cups your face in his large palm.

"Y/N, you're absolutely beautiful. Gorgeous, a god damn treasure for me to behold everytime I see ya...I don't give a damn about the TV shows and the movies, or the magazines, flat stomachs ain't all that. I couldn't give two shits about whether or not someone has a flat stomach. In fact I PREFER, that you're bigger."

You look to the ground, avoiding his gaze.

"Darlin' look at me, I'm not small neither, ain't fit, I got a gut on me myself, but you're still around, why would I be any different?"

He was right. He's a large man, wide shouldered, barrel chested, and a bit of the stomach that hangs over his belt, but it suited him. Fit him well. He was strong too, as much as he would deny it, he was. His biceps were about the size of your head.

"Because...you look...normal."

You mumble.

"You look good, it fits good, you're big and strong, and I'm...just big. Fat, and flabby."

"No. Don't you dare call yourself fat."

You frown as you look at him, and then he slides his arms around your waist, turns you towards the mirror and stands behind you.

"I want you to see what I see in this mirror."

He pauses.

"I see my beautiful girlfriend, who, even with tears in her eyes manages to blow me away. She's soft, and welcoming, and absolutely adorable, I ain't never once looked at her and thought she was ugly, or unlovable, in fact the first time I laid eyes on her I felt like I was in love."

You swallow, looking at his face in the reflection.

"I see my girlfriend, who's got the sexiest hips I've ever seen anywhere. I see my beautiful woman, who's the sweetest, kindest, and most lovely person I've ever come across."

"I see the person I love, and the person I want to come home to everyday. The woman I'm HOPING, to marry someday, hoping to spend the rest of my life with, if she lets me."

You stay silent and tears seem to only get worse.

"Darlin' I love you. With all my heart."

He states, his voice quiet in your ear.

"I love how you look, how you sound, who ya are, everythin' about you makes me happy. I like that you're a bigger girl. I don't want you to be skinny. There's more for me to hold the way you are now, and I ain't gotta be gentle with you, I don't have to worry I'm gonna hurt you."

He leans in and kisses your shoulder, then your neck.

"Ain't never once cared about you bein' skinny, and I don't want you to be. I kiss that stomach o' yours everytime we're intimate. You know that. I love it, and I love you."

"I just...Arthur I...I hate me. I hate the way I look, I hate-"

"Darlin' you're breakin' my heart."

You turn and face him, looking up at him.

His eyes seem tired, almost broken as he looks back at you, sad.

"I love you."

He murmurs, bringing a hand to your chin to tilt your head up.

"I ain't goin' nowhere, even if you think I should, I ain't. I'm stickin' by you. What kinda man would I be if I let the best woman I've ever met slip outta my fingers?"

You simply hug him tightly, feeling his arms wrap around you as your head hits his chest.

"I love you Princess."

"I love you Arthur."

He sighs and rests his chin on your head.

"What started all this anyhow?"

"I wanted to take a shower and...I...you know I saw myself naked."

"Sweetheart, I promise you, seein' you naked is my favorite part of anyday if I'm given the chance to see it."

You can't help but laugh a little, and wipe your eyes.

"You still need a shower?"

You give a nod.

"I'll join you, if you want. I need one myself, covered in oil and grease, and god knows what else."

"Will you please? I think I'll feel better with you there. I won't focus on how I look so much."

"Anythin' for ya Princess." He kisses your forehead, pushing some of your hair out of the way. "Stay here, I'll go back to your room and get you some pj's. You finally got all my stuff put into whatever drawer it is you wanted it in right?"

"Yeah, left side, the top two drawers."

"Alright, I'll grab our clothes and I'll be right back. Why don't you start the shower and grab the towels for us, okay?"

He leaves and heads back to your room, and you feel a bit better, more hopeful. Your chest is lighter, so is your head, and you even smile as you turn the shower on.

He was a wonderful man. He deserved the world, and you'd gladly give it to him, given the chance.

You find two towels easily and place them on the counter before you strip down and get into the shower, pulling the curtain shut.

The water is hot, but not hot enough to burn, and you again smile as the water hits your skin.

You hear the sound of the door opening and Arthur drops off the clothes on the counter. You listen as he shimmies out of his clothes and then you hear the curtain open from the other end.

He comes up behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist, pressing his body to yours, offering a kiss to your bare shoulder.

"See...this ain't so bad."

"It's not bad when you're here."

He chuckles and it rumbles through you, just as it rumbles through him.

"You are beautiful, inside and out."

He whispers, kissing your cheek.

"I'm gonna have you admitting it, I will. I ain't gonna let you sit here and hate yourself. I can't do that."

"Good luck on that Hon."

"I will get you to say it."

He states, this time it's firm, less playful.

"I ain't gonna let you sit here and say all these awful things about yourself anymore."

He kisses your neck again, this time there's a difference in the way his lips feel against your skin.

It's more...possessive, marking.

"Arthur..."

"If ya won't believe my words maybe I can prove it to ya...if you're alright with that..."

You think for a moment, but it doesn't take long for you to decide.

You nod, and twist your head to kiss him on the cheek.

"You sure?"

You nod again.

"Yes Arthur. I'm sure. I want this."

He nods and again kisses your neck, again it's bruising, you know the skin there will be a purple hue.

His hands travel over the skin of your stomach, gentle, loving. His thumbs move back and forth against the skin there, hoping to reassure you.

His hands travel lower, caressing your thighs as he kisses your shoulders, mumbling under his breath about how much he loves you.

His right hand finds it's way towards your heat, he's gentle, two fingers slipping past your folds as he murmurs in your ear.

Your heart speeds as you feel the familiar stretch of his fingers.

"Arthur..."

"You deserve to feel good Princess..."

He kisses your cheek again, fingers curling within you. You feel his hardness against your rear, it's obvious it doesn't take much when he's with you.

The showerhead rains down on the two of you, adding to the sensation.

Arthur's fingers never stop moving, moving gently, slowly. He's in no rush. In fact he's doing his utmost to take all the time in the world with you.

He rocks his hips against you, just barely. Trying to help himself as he helps you.

It's sweet, in a way.

It's a long while before his hand even dares reach for your clit, and when it does, he seems to know exactly what to do, exactly how fast or slow to move, what direction to move.

He's been with you long enough to know.

That too is sweet.

You can't help but mumble his name over and over again as he continues with his way, a smile on his face as he moves his hips against you, his hand in tandem.

It feels like forever passes before you finally come upon your climax, quietly moaning out his name as you lean your head back against his shoulder.

It's slow, but it's just as good as it would have been otherwise.

He never stops kissing you, or telling you how he loves you.

He's more than what you could have asked for,

#rdr2 #arthur morgan #rdr2 community #arthur morgan x reader #milk delivery #red dead redemption 2