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over--and-out · 2 years

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YOU ASKED FOR ARTHUR REQUESTS SO HERE I AM

yup, kinda angsty but i saw a tiktok with the audio "i wish you were a girl" and i rlly thought it would fit arthur.

imagine this, arthur and his friend (he/him obvi) are in love but they're both too afraid to say anything even tho they know the feeling is mutual. One night they're both together just talking and reader is curing arthur's wounds bc he got beaten up, they're so vulnerable that for one and all they kiss in tears, they need each other so they just let it go until arthur just spits "i wish you were a girl"

u can give it the ending u want tbh, up to you. if i come up with another idea then i'll write it. bye bye! ♡

Maybe Someday

Arthur Havisham x Male!Reader

Summary: You figured Arthur had learned his lesson, realized what he did was wrong. Yeah what he did was wrong,, but not wrong enough to deserve this...

Warnings: abuse, mentions of abuse, violence, blood, wounds, alcohol consumption, drunk Arthur, treating of wounds, internalized homophobia, ANGST, spoilers ahead, crying, I mean absolute sobbing, mentions of nausea, Compeyson (he's one of those that needs his own warning,) Arthur is kind of a dick, intense emotions, don't take the warnings lightly please

Author's Note: I am LIVING for this request and all the angst involved in it, please- and guys if anything is triggering for you then please don't force yourself to keep reading. I am once again saying, please don't take the warnings lightly. Take care <3

Arthur was exhausted. All he'd done was drink, but the bed underneath him felt like heaven. He let out a giddy smile, his face pressed to the sheets and his fingers fisted into the blanket. Sleep was about to take him, and he wasn't about to fight it.

He couldn't tell when it started, or even when it ended. He could just feel the snap of the leather on his back ripping his shirt and breaking skin. His body frozen, unable to move as tears quickly sprung to his eyes. His fingers tightened their grip on the blanket, knuckles turning white and he lost the breath in his lungs at each crack against his back.

Arthur didn't know how long he was laying there, his blood thin from the alcohol and soaking the back of his shirt. His tears soaked the sheets below him, Compeyson long gone and Arthur was at least thankful for that.

He could barely move when he did finally decide to get up, a hiss leaving his lips at the sting on his skin and immediately the blood pooled on his back flooded downwards and onto the floor while he stumbled to the window. He stood as he picked up a quill, scrawling some messy handwriting onto a piece of paper and he folded it up with blood smudged hands. He picked up a lit candle, not even caring if it was the proper wax stick he needed, he needed this note done fast damn it. He let the crimson wax drip off of the candle, onto the paper before he pressed the sigil stamp to it and held it there till the wax was dry.

Arthur's vision was blurry beyond compare, his steps wavering as he made his way to the front door. Before he knew it he was out on the street hailing over a small boy.

He didn't even notice the looks he got, the nobleman Arthur Havisham standing on the street in his undergarments with blood all over him.

The boy ran over to him, hesitant until Arthur pushed a few pennies into his hand. "Take this to the (L/n) manner, tell them it's urgent... bring him here." Arthur's words were slurred, cut off as he abruptly turned and walked back inside. He barely made it inside his room before he collapsed.

"Mi'lord, there's a ring for you."

You looked up with furrowed brows. "Who is it?"

"Didn't say, sir. Just a boy with a note for you, says it's urgent."

You gave a wave of your hand. "Go ahead and send him in, and can we get some tea and a sweet for the boy?" She nodded to your words, giving a small curtsy.

A few minutes later, she let the young boy in and you smiled softly as you gestured to the tea and sweets. The young boy looked around and rushed to the sweets, grabbing a handful before quickly setting the letter on your desk. "He said it's urgent." He picked up the tea and began to drink.

Your brows furrowed as you stared at the wax for a moment, trying to place where you knew the stamp from.

Finally you just ripped open the note and read it.

"Follow the boy.

-Arthur"

Your heart dropped.

"You said I needed to follow you?"

"Yes, Mi'lord."

"Lead the way."

When you got to the run down house, you Immediately walked inside to look for Arthur. When you bursted into his room, he was hunched over the side of his bed. You could see the way he flinched harshly, his head whipping around to gaze at you. He was terrified that Compeyson had arrived before you could. When he noticed that it was just you, his lips pressed into a thin line and a scoff escaped him as he turned back around.

"Oh my God, Arthur..." Your voice trailed off and you dropped the blood stained note that he sent you, your steps quick as you rushed to him. "What happened?" You set your hand on his shoulder, gently pushing it so he could turn and give you a better look at his injuries.

"I..." He stopped. "Compeyson, he..." his brown eyes flicked up to look into your (e/c) eyes. His body wavered and he flopped into you, leaning into your stomach. "Can you help?" His words were slurred, slow with his voice scratchy.

"Of course I can help, Arthur. Just... I need you to take your shirt off for me okay? I can't fix it if your shirt is in the way." Arthur nodded along to your words, laughing softly. He smushed his face into your shirt, reaching up so that his fingers clenched into the back of it.

"Of course, of course." He pulled away, taking the bottom of his shirt and lifting it off. You could see a bruise on his stomach, fresh and trailing up the left side of his chest. "That good enough?" His head tilted, almost flopped to one side and his blonde curls stuck to his forehead.

"Yeah that's good, Art." He made a face at the nickname, his nose scrunched up in distaste. "Don't call me that."

"I've always called you that, what's so different about it now?" You rummaged around the room and looked for some medical supplies, finally finding some towels and a bowl to fill with water. You found some bandages and trudged back to Arthur who was trying to pour himself another drink.

"Nuh uh, no you don't." You took the glass, pulling it out of his reach and he scoffed.

"What the hell?"

"Drinking isn't good when you have open injuries." You gently touched his back, drawing a wince out of him and you quickly apologized.

You began to wipe the blood off of his skin to try and see the wounds more clearly. The thin crimson liquid smeared and stained his skin but you were finally able to see the split flesh.

Without missing a beat you began cleaning, drawing winces and hisses from Arthur's lips. "Do you want to talk about what happened?" Your voice was soft, not pushy. You noticed the way Arthur's shoulders tensed.

After a long moment, when you'd reached the point of thinking he wasn't going to talk, he finally said something. "If you must know, Compeyson took advantage of the condition I was in at the time." You pulled the towel away from his skin, brows furrowed in worry at what he was insinuating. "I must have said too much for his liking so he... he beat me." His voice cracked on the last sentence, eyes going watery.

You didn't know what to say for the longest moment. You settled on wiping the remainder of the blood off of his back, grabbing the bandages to wrap him up. When you'd drawn a blank on what to say, Arthur continued and his voice was wavering. "I was drunk and vulnerable so he ripped the leather strap off of my luggage and he beat me with it." A small sob escaped him and you rushed to comfort him, rubbing his shoulders and moving in front of him where your hands cupped his jaw and your thumbs wiped away tears. "And all because I said something to Amelia that he didn't approve of. I said too much." He avoided looking at you, kept those dull and sad sunken in brown eyes glued to the ground out of shame; shame that you were seeing him so vulnerable when he was the great Arthur Havisham.

You used your pointer finger to tilt his head up to look at you, your thumb rubbing across his chin where the smallest bit of blonde stubble was beginning to grow. Immediately his eyes met yours, your free hand pulling a chair close for you to sit down. Once you were eye level with him, your hands went back to their place on his jaw.

"You didn't deserve that." You tilted your head to capture his gaze when he tried looking away again. "You don't deserve this, Arthur. Whatever is going on, let me help. I'll go with you to talk to Amelia, we can-"

You didn't get to finish your words.

Because his lips were now firmly pressed against yours.

A small noise escaped you and Arthur didn't hesitate to tangle his fingers into the hair at the nape of your neck. You quickly recovered from your shock, leaning into his touch and melting into him when he pulled you closer. He jerked you forward, pulling you out of your chair and your hands rested on either side of his hips on the bed. Your eyes began to water from the emotions bubbling up and escaping you and you could tell the same was happening to him.

A drunken confession that sober Arthur Havisham wouldn't have the bravery to do.

All the frustration inside of the Havisham was bleeding out, seeping from every limb while he clinged to you as if you were the lifeline keeping him safe. And you were.

Ever since you had both shared that kiss in the Havisham courtyard as young boys, you knew everything would be different. It was different, Arthur's father had begun to treat him differently you noticed. You weren't allowed around as often and Arthur was due to be wed to the Madame Dorey who was way too old for him. He refused, pitched a fit over it and stormed out until the next morning. Now it was quite obvious why he did so.

He had fallen for you, and he had fallen hard. As if he had flung himself face first into a well containing nothing but you and you alone, and he had doomed himself from that moment forth.

Kissing you that day in the courtyard was the greatest mistake he'd ever made in his life.

It made him different.

It made him a freak.

It made his father hate him.

It made his father push him out of the will, forced him to be only a fraction of the Havisham he once was.

Arthur hated you for it.

Arthur Havisham hated you almost as much as he loved you, but at the same time he couldn't bring himself to love you. As so, he retracted his bravery and the cowering lion bared it's face once more in place of Arthur's. His spine slackened as the alcohol took it's toll on his body and overworked his mind into a drunken haze.

He could feel bile travel up his throat before your lips chased the feeling away, the one sole medicine to every ailment imaginable. His deep brown eyes met yours, yours that were filled to the brim with unspoken words and yet praises upon praises of love. Arthur wanted to soak up the praise all day long, lay in it and bathe in it as if it was the sun and God knows your love was worth miles more than the sun. Your smile could outshine the ball of fire in the sky and your presence transformed Arthur into Icarus the moment your gaze met his. Like Icarus, Arthur felt wax burning his skin to the bone and soaking into his flesh in the form of shame for who he was. He wished he could preach tales about what he felt for you, preach it to the world as if you were a Bible in which he dreamed of spreading open the pages to memorize every word. He'd commit sacrilege and march himself to the ends of every continent ten times over if only he could bring himself to say what was on his mind and as if you could read his thoughts, you smiled at him so sweetly and so full of love that any train of thought going on in his pretty little head was quickly thrown off the rails.

He was going to tell you, he had to. He could no longer be that scared little boy that his from the crack of his father's belt, the boy who disappointed his father with how overgrown his ego was.

Arthur's voice was gravelly and slurred, feverish with the pain and the drink burning him to his bones and when he spoke his words were spat out with a venomous poison. "I wish you were a girl." With those words, cold as ice, he flopped the rest of the way onto the bed, as dead to the world as your heart now was, ripped out of your chest and into a million multifaceted pieces until it was ruthlessly shoved back in. The most immense pain you'd ever felt.

In the end you'd realized this was the most you'd get out of Arthur Havisham.

A stupid, silly little confession.

One that his behind the cowering lion that shoved Arthur down until he'd eventually reach his breaking point.

Sadly that breaking point was not to come today, and Arthur remained the coward he'd been.

You'd hoped you'd be able to see the day he was able to free himself of the shackles of his own doings. While he spoke those words that destroyed you in many ways, much in which you couldn't even be able to describe, the words in his eyes were clear as day.

Arthur was always good at lying.

You'd just hoped that some day you could hear the words spoken out loud, no longer a mirror of the emotions you carried reflected in his beautiful sunflower eyes.

Maybe someday.

This came out a lot shorter than I'd imagined but a lot more poetic- I'm also sick so I'm terribly sorry if this doesn't make a lot of sense. I hope you all enjoyed it!!

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