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roseghoul26 · 2 months

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Chapter 3: I Can't Stop You Putting Roots In My Dreamland

Arthur Morgan x fem!Reader

Synopsis: A fic based off the song “ivy” by Taylor Swift. After a startling introduction to the man, Arthur Morgan became the most important part of your life. Married at a young age to an older, wealthy man to help your family, you were trapped in a loveless marriage, your only sense of escape with the rugged cowboy. Will you be able to keep your affair hidden, or will your husband find out, and destroy the last thing that made you happy? Tags: Fluff, Angst, Smut, Strangers To Lovers, Infidelity, Fem!Reader, She/Her Pronouns Used For Reader, Period Typical Misogyny, Emotional Manipulative Relationship (not with Arthur), Mostly Follows Timeline of Game, High Honor Arthur Morgan Author's Note: this chapter does talk about sex with the husband, which isn’t non consensual, but it also isn’t something the reader actually wants, doing it more out of obligation than anything. also chapters will probably start to be longer and therefore take longer to write <3 Taglist: @lokiofasgard12 @ultraporcelainpig @that-one-beannnn @morethantheycansay Chapter List

You rarely smoked.

The only time you did was after you and Hans were intimate. He would roll over onto his side, asleep, and you would get up from the bed, wrapping your robe around you and heading outside to the front porch, sitting right on the top stair.

It was comforting to you, because you imagined the flame and smoke from the cigarette would burn the remnants of him from your body.

You felt them in your pocket, the promise of temporary relief calling to you like a siren. You ignored them, choosing to listen to the sounds of the woods around you. The crickets sang, the frogs croaked, and you heard the chattering of nocturnal animals as they found food for the night. Everything was so peaceful, so why couldn’t you stop yourself from feeling so tense?

It had been two days since the trip into Rhodes. Hans had stayed in his office for most of that time, only coming out to eat and sleep. But as was typical before leaving on trips, Hans wanted you, so you obliged him.

Sex with Hans felt like a task, no passion between the two of you. He treated it like he treated his business: efficiently. There was no foreplay, no lingering touches, nothing. It was just straight to the point, and done as soon as it started, which came as a relief to you. The less time you had to spend doing it with him, the better.

However, as much as it shamed you to admit it, your thoughts had not been of Hans during the moment. Instead of cold gray eyes traveling down your body, you imagined they were a certain shade of blue. Instead of pallid skin, you imagined it was tanned, roughened from years in the suns. And when Hans’ hands did touch you, you imagined they were strong and broad, calloused yet gentle. You’d be a liar if you said it didn’t make it easier.

Disgusted with yourself, you ran a hand down your face, slumping forward where you sat on the stair. Cold air dug into your skin, and you tightened your robe further around your body. The silk felt nice against your skin, but it did nothing to protect against the elements.

You were about to fish the pack out of your pocket, but the sound of hoofbeats had you perking your head up, eyes focusing on the small path in front of you. Emerging from the shadows was a man on horseback, lantern in one hand that lit up the side of his face. It took you a second to register who it was, not quite believing your eyes at first.

“Arthur?” You called out. Not only could you not escape from him in your thoughts, but here he was in reality. Not that you minded, but of course the timing had to be terrible.

He responded with a noise of affirmation, and you couldn’t help the smile that tugged at your lips. “What’re you doin’ here? It’s very late.” You knew it was somewhere between nine and ten at night, which is a little late for visitors. “Don’t tell me you’re here to try and rob me again.”

Arthur audibly sighed, shaking his head as he dismounted his horse. “You ain’t ever gonna let that go, are you?” You watched as he secured the reins around a nearby tree before making his way over to you.

“Never,” you laughed, and despite your better judgment, you scooted over to the side to give Arthur room to sit. You patted the stair when he got to the porch, and he sat down next to you. The scent of tobacco and gunpowder wafted over you, and you felt his jacket covered arm brush yours, causing you to shiver.

It was at that point you remembered you were only wearing your undergarments underneath, and you tightened the robe even more around your body, both because of self awareness and the temperature.

Wordlessly, you felt Arthur shift, taking his jacket and draping it across your shoulders. The outside material of the jacket had been rough, but the inside was lined with a soft pelt, warmed by Arthur’s body. The addicting scent was even stronger now, causing your head to spin, and you resisted the urge to bury your face into it. “You’ll catch your death out here,” he said disapprovingly. You just chuckled in response.

“What’re you doin’ out here, anyway?” You heard him ask, and you shrugged.

“I could ask you the same question.” You watched him out of the corner of your eye, and he sighed.

“Leigh was worried ‘bout the ‘issue’ you’d been having, with the break-ins. He wanted me to come out ‘ere and make sure everythin’ is good.” He laughed lightly, and you felt his eyes on you. “Now will you answer me?”

Finally, you pulled out the pack, holding it gently in your hands. Glancing up at Arthur, he seemed surprised. “Didn’t strike me as the type who smoked,” he commented.

“I rarely do.” You pulled out one of the cigarettes from the pack, placing it gently between your lips. Pulling out your lighter, it took a few too many tries before the spark caught, and you lit the end of it. Taking a long drag, you wordlessly offered Arthur one from the pack.

He accepted it, placing it between his own plush lips, and you shifted closer to light it. Except this time, no matter how many times you tried, the spark wouldn’t catch, and you could hear Arthur chuckle as you grew more and more frustrated. “Piece of shit,” you grumbled, “I keep forgettin’ to buy a new one.”

You tried it a few more times before giving up, shoving it angrily back into your robe. “Sorry,” you grumbled, guilty eying the unlit cigarette that hung from his mouth.

“Can I try somethin’?” Arthur asked, and it piqued your curiosity, so you nodded. “C’mere.” Arthur gestured for you to move closer to him, which you did. The man practically radiated heat, you noticed, and your cold body wanted nothing more than to wrap around him.

Your brain stopped functioning when you felt him gently grasp your chin with gloved fingers, keeping your head still, but not tight enough to keep you locked there. He leaned forward like he was going to kiss you, but he instead pressed the end of his cigarette against yours. “Inhale,” he instructed, and you watched the end of yours glow with red embers as you did, which ignited his.

He pulled away then, his touch lingering a little longer than necessary, and you were certain he could feel the way your heart hammered. “Resourceful,” you muttered, and Athur laughed, smoke spilling from his open mouth. You couldn’t tell if it was a trick of the light, but his cheeks were a shade darker than they were moments ago.

“Somethin’ like that. I think ‘desperate’ is the right word, though.” Arthur leaned back on one of his arms, the other moving the cigarette to and from his lips. “Haven’t had a good cigarette in a while.”

Without even thinking about it, you extended the pack of them for him to take, and you watched him switch his attention from the pack to you. “Take it,” you demanded, shaking it gently when he didn’t budge. “I got plenty of them.”

“I appreciate it, but-”

“Just take the damn thing!” You giggled, practically pressing it against his chest, yet he still made no move to grab it. With a quirk of your brow that said really?, you tucked the pack into one of the various pockets of the coat around your shoulders.

Arthur shook his head with a mix of defeat and amusement, and even in the low light you could see that smile that made you weak. “You’re stubborn.”

“First I’m strange, and now I’m stubborn. Got any other s words you wanna call me?”

“I can think of a few.” Arthur had begun to lean near you as you spoke, but you watched his eyes flick down to where a ring sat on your hand and he pulled away. “But none of which I should say to a married woman.”

Right. Holding back a sigh of disappointment, you felt the jacket begin to slip from your shoulders, and you swore you saw Arthur’s arm move to fix it before stopping himself. Securing it back around, you took a final drag from your cigarette before stomping it out with your shoe, then kicking the butt under the porch once it had cooled some.

“Are you busy the next couple of weeks?” You asked, not really knowing what you were saying.

“I’ve got some things. Why?”

“Oh, nevermind.” You immediately felt silly for even bringing it up.

“You sure?”

“Well…” you took a breath. “Hans is gonna be gone for the next week or two, and you especially know how easy it is to get in here,” you gestured to the house, and Arthur shook his head again. “I guess what I’m tryin’ to ask is if you’d swing by every couple of days? Just to make sure nothin’ has happened? I’ll sleep better knowing there's someone out there who keepin’ an eye on things. And I’ll pay,” you tagged on, and Arthur brought the cigarette back up to his lips, almost contemplative.

You totally weren’t trying to come up with a reason to see him more.

“Just every couple of days?”

You nodded. “You don’t even gotta talk to me or anythin’. I’ll leave the money somewhere secure and you can just grab it.”

“And if I wanna talk to you?” Arthur’s voice was surprisingly faint, like someone would if they didn’t have complete confidence in what they were saying.

Cherishing the knowledge that he didn’t dislike your presence, you couldn’t help the small smile as you responded. “Well, I’ll be around.”

Arthur hummed in response, and he took one final drag until he was stomping it out, kicking it under the porch like you did. The two of you sat in silence after that, simply taking in the serenity of the nighttime forest. Arthur titled his head back, eyes locked on to the forest, and the moonlight graced his features. Why did he look even more gorgeous at night? Pale white light highlighted the angles of his face, his high cheeks, the crook of his nose. You were able to make out a scar along the bridge of his nose, and another on his chin. You wondered if the rest of his body was marked that way.

You hadn’t realized you’d been staring at him until he turned his attention on you, and you couldn’t tell if he was amused or concerned. “You alright there?”

“Hm? Oh, yeah,” you quickly responded. “Just tired.” Whether Arthur believed you, you’d never know.

“Let’s get you inside, then,” Arthur replied, slowly standing up from the step. You almost wanted to grab his hand and pull him back down, not wanting this little moment to end. But that familiar feeling of guilt returned, and so you let the moment go, dissipating in the air like the smoke of your cigarettes.

Arthur helped you up, escorting you to your front door with a hand barely not touching your back. You slid the jacket off your body, giving it back to him with a soft thank you. After draping it around one of his arms, he held the door open for you. You were about to step in when you heard him murmur your name. “Have a good night, darlin’.”

“Because of you, it is.” You beamed at him, before ducking into the dimly-lit house. A few seconds later, you heard the door latch shut, and the sound of receding hoofbeats a few minutes after.

You gave yourself a moment to calm your racing heart, fanning your face to try and alleviate the heat in your cheeks. You were giddy and felt lighter than a feather. Like the last time, you felt like your real self had broken free, if not for a moment. That taste of freedom was delicious, and it was addicting.

But with that freedom came guilt, and you were screaming at yourself in your head, every nasty word under the sun aimed directly at you in your mind. Married or not, you shouldn’t be letting an almost stranger sit that close to you, let him drape his jacket over you, let him hold your face so gently.

You shouldn’t be reacting this way.

You shouldn’t be torturing yourself by getting close to him.

You shouldn’t be getting close to him.

There were so many things you shouldn’t be doing, but you knew you couldn’t stop now. You needed more.

Sighing, you slowly began to make your way upstairs, the stairs creaking with each step. You headed into the washroom that wasn’t attached to your bedroom, this one located across the hall a ways down from where Hans was currently asleep. Washing the remnants of smoke from your body, you dared to glance at yourself in the mirror.

Sure, nothing has changed too drastically since you got married, your face still practically the same. But a deep weariness had made itself at home in your eyes. Your eyes, once filled with wonder and joy at the world, had turned dull, much like Hans’. They seemed to have sunken in more, like the life from your body was being sucked from your body.

Anger boiled your blood, tears threatening to flow as you stared at the husk of yourself in the mirror. You were angry at your family for marrying you off. You were angry at Hans for agreeing to marry you. You were angry at the world for thinking it was okay.

And you were angry at Arthur for breaking into your house and setting off this chain of events in your mind.

Taking a deep breath, you composed yourself. This marriage needed to happen, you told yourself, and it provided some small comfort, but it didn’t ease the sense of betrayal. And you shouldn’t be mad at Arthur, because it wasn’t his fault. You just wanted someone to blame for your treachery. Wiping down your hands, you were sure to avoid looking at yourself in the mirror again as you left.

Before you knew it, you were back in the bedroom, the familiar sight of Hans’ form beneath the covers causing a lump to form in your throat. Quickly slipping off the robe, you replaced it with a nightgown before joining him under the covers.

The comforting smell of Arthur still clung to your skin, lulling you to sleep, your dreams interrupted with visions of him. It was the best sleep you’d gotten in a long time.

─•~❉᯽❉~•─

The sunlight woke you up, beams interrupting your slumber instead of the voice of your husband.

Sitting up, you placed your hand on the other side of your bed, and you felt it was cold. A smile grew across your face, an almost child-like giddiness bubbling inside of you. He was gone.

You quickly got out of bed, immediately heading to the closet to get dressed, not wanting to waste any of the precious time you had alone. You had no idea what you were going to do, but you were going to savor every moment. You had glanced at the clock on the way over, and you were surprised to see that you’d slept in until ten.

You decided on a thin, flowy skirt and a light blouse, something that would let you move with ease. As you got dressed, a familiar piece of paper caught your eye, tucked in the drawer containing your socks hastily. You picked up the little thank you note that Arthur had given to you, looking over it fondly. It was such a small gesture, but it meant everything to you.

Tucking it back, you left your closet, heading down the stairs. Even the house seemed happier, sunlight streaming into the windows, and you opened some of them, letting wind clear away the stagnant air. You made yourself a quick breakfast, an assortment of fruits and some bread, cleaning the dishes once you were done.

You now sat at the dining table, contemplating what you were going to do. Your options were quite limited, as the only way to travel from the house was the carriage, but that was gone. Hans didn’t keep horses, finding the creatures disgusting, leaving you stranded at the house.

That wasn’t to say you didn't have a way of getting to places. If you really needed to, the main road wasn’t far, about a five minute walk on foot. If you waited long enough, someone would come by with a carriage, and you could ask to hop on. More often than not, they would accept, and you were always sure to hand them a couple of bills for their troubles. It was dangerous, and probably quite stupid, but you enjoyed the thrill of it all.

But you weren’t in the mood to travel in the city, especially this early, where everyone would be able to clearly see who you were. You slumped back in the chair. Now that the novelty of being alone had worn off, the persistent loneliness was no longer covered up, making you slump even further into your chair.

It was then you finally remembered your little project you’d been working on for some time: your garden. You quickly left the house, a newfound energy in your step as you traveled along the makeshift path you’d made with your steps.Your skirts caught on various plants and sticks, but it didn’t deter you, and you made it to your garden in no time.

It wasn’t much of a garden, to be completely honest with yourself. Fallen trees stacked up against one side, blocking it from view from the house. You hadn't tended to it for some time, and it showed. All six of your planters were handmade, made from various sticks and planks you’d found scattered about, and you noticed that they were all spilling out their precious dirt, the wood long since rotted. Also, weeds and vines and overgrowth covered over the delicate plants you’d raised, and you made a sad noise. You hoped they weren’t all dead.

Digging through the thick growth, your fears were confirmed when instead of bright green, you were met with wilted brown. They weren’t anything special, just a few herbs and small vegetables that you’d grown from the remnants of produce you’d used for supper. Still, it was something you’d poured yourself into, and you couldn’t help the way your shoulders sagged, energy wilted just like the plants.

You were about to move the weeds back over, when from the pile of dead plants, a sliver of fresh green caught your eye. Investigating further, you found a cluster of small growth of thyme and mint, baby sprouts, but still able to become something greater. A victorious laugh left you, and you eagerly began tearing away the invasive greenery, your energy returned.

It took a while, but eventually you’d uncovered everything, the dead plants pulled out, leaving the few remaining live ones in the unstable dirt. Before you could move them, though. you’d have to make new planters. The rest of the day you spent gathering various sticks, planks, and pieces of bark, creating a substantial pile in the garden.

By the time night came around, you were exhausted, covered in dirt and sweat, but surprisingly content. You bathed and, no matter how much you wanted to stay up and wait to see if Arthur would stop by, you went to bed. You said every couple of days, not every night, for God’s sake.

The next day was spent working on the planters, taking many breaks inside. It took too many tires for you to make one that would stay together, but by the end of the night you’d made one.

The third day arrived, and you worked again on the planters. It was the end of the third night when you heard hoofbeats come down your road, and you felt your heart beat excitedly. You were still close to the house, so you were able to hear Arthur call out your name. “Over here!” You responded, but you doubted he could see you because your back was pressed against the stack of fallen logs, blocking you from view from the house. “In the woods!”

It took a few moments, but you eventually heard branches crack and leaves rustle, as well as the light noise of his spurs. “Hello, Arthur,” you turned your head back to greet the man as he approached your side. “I’ll get your payment in a moment, just let me finish this.”

You turned back to the planter in your lap, and you saw out of the corner of your eye as Arthur crouched down next to you, watching what you were doing with an unreadable expression. “What’s all this?” He asked as you tied a knot of the rope, testing the stability of the planter with a tug. When it held, you smiled proudly. Another one done.

“This,” you gestured around you, “is my garden. And this,” you pointed to the now finished planter, “is one of the last planters I need to make before I replace all the old ones.”

“Odd place for a garden,” Arthur noted, standing up again. Again, he helped you up, and you smiled gratefully at him. He wasn’t wearing gloves this time, and you were able to feel the rough skin on yours.

“I know,” you replied, wiping dirt from your hands on your skirt. “But it ain’t like I got any other place for it.”

“Whaddya mean? You’ve got a whole empty lawn,” he said with disbelief, and you shook your head.

“I guess I mean I can’t. I ain’t even supposed to have this.”

“You… can’t?”

“It ain’t ‘ladylike or proper’ to keep a garden, apparently,” you scoffed, and began to make your way back to the house. “C’mon, let’s get you your money.”

A part of you hoped that he wouldn’t just take the money and leave as you walked back toward the house, but you wouldn’t blame him if he did. The two of you idly chatted, you leading the way back, Arthur not far behind.

Looking back as you talked, you were able to appreciate him visually as you kept eye contact. He had the same red button up on from earlier in the week, sleeves rolled up at the elbow, and the top two buttons undone. He had forgone the bandana around his neck entirely today, and you were thankful for it. He kept his hands on his gunbelt as he walked, the act far more enticing than it should be. You had to move your eyes before you could begin to stare.

Reaching the house, Arthur held the door open for you, hesitantly following in after you. It was strange, seeing Arthur in your house properly. He looked very out of place, the antiquated decorations of high society a harsh contrast of the rugged outdoorsman.

“I’m gonna go grab the money, so make yourself at home. And,” you pointed to his boots, “take those off. You tracked mud in my kitchen last time.”

He held his hands up defensively. “My apologies,” he chuckled, but he complied, setting his boots next to your shoes. It was almost familiar, seeing your shoes next to his, and a pang of longing for a life you’d never had or will have tore through your chest.

Heading upstairs, you pushed those feelings away as you entered your bedroom. Reaching under the bed, you grabbed the lockbox you kept stashed, hidden between the mattress and the frame, setting it on your bed. Opening it, you grabbed a few bills from it, totalling to about five dollars. You pulled from your own personal money, not wanting Hans to question why he was suddenly down a bit of money when he returned. Tucking it back under, you hurriedly made your way back downstairs to Arthur.

He hadn’t sat down yet. Instead, you watched as he traveled around the living room, examining the various photographs that decorated the shelves and the mantle of the fireplace. He was frowning as he looked over your and Hans’ wedding photo, but he broke his gaze from them as you stood next to him. “Here,” you handed him the money. “Thank you.”

“Of course,” he murmured, taking the bills gently, putting them away in one of his pockets.

The two of you stood in silence after that. You weren’t quite sure what to say. A part of you wanted to invite him to stay for a drink, but that was risky, pushing to something less than proper. He took the framed wedding photo into his hands, and the both of you observed it.

You looked like a spooked deer in the photo, your eyes wide and staring into the camera. Hans had his arm linked in yours, and it was the only time you’d seen him smile, even though it was forced. The dress you were wearing was a poofy mess of fabric and ribbon, and you remembered how much it itched your skin.

“The dress is ugly, I know,” you joke, getting a chuckle from the man. “I’d never choose to wear somethin’ like that.”

“It seems like you don’t got a choice in a lot of things,” you heard him mutter, more to himself than anything. You couldn’t bring yourself to disagree with him; it was obvious you’d be lying.

Arthur set the frame back on the fireplace mantle, and when his hand returned to his side, you felt it brush against yours, but a little too hard to be accidental. It was a simple yet comforting touch, and for a moment that loneliness tormenting you eased.

But just as it came, it left, Arthur taking a few steps away from you. Turning your head to watch him, you felt disappointment overwhelm you. “I-” he cleared his throat. “I have to go.”

“Okay,” you whispered as he got his boots back on.

His mouth opened and shut as he struggled to formulate words, and he ended up just sighing. “I’ll see you later, darlin’.”

Nodding, you turned your attention back to the photo, not wanting him to see the sadness in your eyes. You heard the door latch shut, and like your shoes by the door, you were now alone.

You stayed inside for the rest of the night.

─•~❉᯽❉~•─

The next day arrived, and with it came rain. Lots of it.

It pounded against the roof of your house, and you found the sound of it comforting, distracting you from your miserable thoughts. Because of that, you spent most of the day in the attic cleaning, where you could feel the rain if you pressed your hand against the roof.

The following day was a clear one, not a single cloud in the sky. You finished up the planters, arranging them how you liked. You rewarded yourself with a long soak in the bath, spending nearly an hour in the tub.

For both of those days, your mind kept wandering to Arthur, but not on the reason you thought it would. You kept going back to his comment about how you didn’t have a choice in a lot of things. In the back of your mind, you always knew that, but to hear it out loud, it had been staggering.

You didn’t let yourself think about it for too long, however. The sacrifice of your own choice in life was a necessary one, you told yourself, and itIt was selfish of you to want otherwise. Your family would be out on the street if it wasn’t for you, and besides, you should be grateful for the life Hans has provided for you.

So why was it so hard to convince yourself to believe your thoughts?

You dreamed that night, for the first time in a while. It wasn’t anything crazy, but it still had you gasping when you woke. It was a domestic scene, and you were in the kitchen making breakfast. A sleep-laden Arthur came into the scene, brown hair tousled and in his face. He wrapped his arms around your body, bare chest pressing into your back, and he burrowed his face into the crook of your neck. It felt so real, and you swore you could feel the scratch of his beard on your neck when you woke.

Getting out of bed the next day had been a struggle. You angrily grumbled at the birds as they taunted you with their lighthearted music, and you debated rolling over a smashing a pillow over your head and going back to sleep.

Eventually, you managed to leave the bed, getting dressed and eating breakfast like you’d done in all the previous days. The monotony was getting boring, but there wasn’t anything you could do about that.

Today you worked on filling the planters with dirt, and it took a surprising amount of time to find some that wasn’t too rocky or too muddy, and of course it had to be a significant walk from the planters. All you had to transport the dirt was a small shovel that you stored in a hollow trunk nearby, and you spent the day carrying each precious shovelful across the forest

By the time early evening rolled around, you were exhausted, your hands cramping and shoulders aching from the shovel, but you now had six planters filled with dirt, and the baby sprouts placed in each one. The dirt was still damp enough from the rainfall earlier, so you didn’t have to worry about watering today.

Leaning your back against the fallen trunks, you closed your eyes, savoring the feeling of the warm sun rays against your skin. The birds sounded less taunting than they did in the morning, and you let yourself get lost in their songs.

So lost, in fact, that you failed to notice when they stopped, spooked by the sound of a voice and footfalls. You jumped when your name was said rather loudly beside you, your eyes snapping open and staring at the creator of the sound.

A concerned Arthur stood above you, hand extended like he was about to shake your shoulder. “Oh, hello Arthur,” you grinned up at him.

“You scared me there,” he half-laughed, pulling you to your feet. “I’ve been callin’ your name for a while now.”

“Well, as you can see,” you brushed your hands on your skirt, “I’m still very much alive.” You were afraid that the tense ending of your last interaction would’ve carried over to today, but you’re glad it didn’t. “So, whaddya think?” You gestured to your garden.

“It’s… cute.”

“Cute?” You scoffed. “You mean to tell me I’ve been working all day for the last week just for it to be cute? You insult me, Arthur.”

Arthur laughed, and that damn smile adorned his lips. Looking away, you felt your cheeks warm.

“I left the money at the house again. C’mon.”

The walk back to the house was short, like always, and Arthur asked you about the plants you were growing. You explained to him the way you’d found them earlier in the week, recalling the small little sprouts you’d found.

“Plants are incredible in that way. No matter what the world throws at them, no matter what conditions they’re met with, they always seem to just… come back. Their resilience is incredible!” Looking back at Arthur, he was watching you with an indiscernible expression. “Sorry, didn’t mean to get all poetic there.”

“Don’t apologize,” Arthur shook his head. “I like that, though. Reminds me of someone I know.”

“Oh? Who?” You were genuinely curious, wanting to know more about Arthur and the people he associated with.

“There’s this amazin’ woman, who, no matter what anyone tells her or what society deems is right, does what she wants, does what makes her happy. And when she gets dragged down, I’ve seen her bounce right back up, ready to take on the world.”

“Maybe you’re the poetic one,” you teased. “She sounds like someone I want to meet.”

You missed the look that Arthur gave you, like he couldn’t believe you weren’t catching on. “I’m sure she’d love to meet you.”

Eventually the two of you came into the house, and Arthur lingered in the doorway. “I’ll be right back, then you’ll be good to go.” You turned to head up the stairs, but you halted. “Unless…” Don’t you dare. “Unless you want to stay for dinner?”

When he didn’t respond, you panicked a little. “You don’t have to, I just figured cause it’s almost dinnertime, you’d like somethin’ to eat.” Silence. “You know what, forget I said anythin’,” you looked away, embarrassed, and resumed entering the house.

“You’re spoilin’ me, darlin’,” Arthur laughed breathlessly with a smile.

“Is that a yes?”

He nodded, and a relieved but genuine smile fell on your lips. “You know where the living room is,” you laughed, toeing off your shoes. Arthur did the same, setting his boot next to yours again, and he made his way to the living room as you went upstairs.

The process of grabbing the money was no different this time, and you were about to head back downstairs when you caught a glimpse of yourself in one of the mirrors in the bedroom.

Dirt streaked across your face from where you had wiped away sweat, and your clothes were in no better shape. Embarrassment once again overcame you, the ideals that had been ingrained into your brain for years making you feel so. No woman of your standing should be playing in the dirt, then inviting people into her home while covered in it.

You quickly changed clothes, then headed into the en suite bathroom to wash down your face and body, even go so far as to fix up your hair, pulling out any debris that got caught in it. Satisfied, you headed back downstairs to Arthur, who sat on one of the various couches. He had taken his hat off, setting it next to him, and you watched him run his hands through it.

“It wasn’t very nice of you to not tell me I was covered in dirt,” was what you said as you approached him, holding out the bills for him. “Sorry that it took so long.”

Arthur just chuckled, standing up in front of you, leaving his hat behind. He took the bills from you with a thankful nod of his head, tucking them into his pocket. “You missed a spot,” he said as he tucked the money away.

“Really?” You began to wipe at your face, frowning when Arthur began to laugh. “Where?”

“Here,” he muttered, and you felt two hands gently wrap around your wrists, tugging them away from your face. Releasing one, he used the pad of his thumb to wipe at your cheek, the rest of his hand resting on your jaw. His cerulean eyes flicked across your face, like he was trying to memorize the details of it, the curve of your cheek, the slope of your nose, the shape of your lips. “There,” he whispered, running the thumb across again for good measure before dropping his hand.

Arthur stared at you for a moment, like even he couldn’t quite believe what he’d done. All thoughts went out the window, your mind and legs jelly. He took a step back, giving an appropriate amount of room between the two of you. Don’t leave, you were pleading in your head. “I-I’ll get started on dinner,” you stammer out. “If you’d like to get washed up, the bathroom’s upstairs, first door on the left.”

He nodded, taking a few more steps back. “I’ll be right back, then.” And with that, he turned up the stairs, leaving you stunned, alone, in the living room. You ran your fingers over where his hand had just been, and you laughed with shock and delight. You expected to feel guilt, and you did, but it was heavily muffled by the sheer joy radiating in your chest.

The sound of water rushing through the pipes of the house broke you out of your daze, your hand returning to your side. Right. Dinner.

Despite the tiredness you felt from hauling dirt everywhere the entire day, you felt energized as you entered the kitchen. You weren’t going to make anything elaborate, mainly because you were starting to run low on supplies. You’d have to run to Rhodes sometime during the next week, using your own money, of course.

Dinner was going to be two small steaks, with diced potatoes and grilled green beans. The smell of the food quickly permeated the kitchen, making your stomach grumble hungrily. Arthur emerged from the bathroom when dinner was over halfway done, startling you because you had your back to him, and because your mind was constantly distracted with thoughts of him.

“That smells amazin’,” he commented, causing you to nearly drop the utensil you were using to flip the food. Turning, he held up his hands apologetically.

“I should’ve had you keep your boots on. Your spurs are loud,” you grumbled lightheartedly. “How are you so quiet?” You kept having to turn your head to talk to him, so he walked up next to you at the stove.

“Years of practice,” Arthur responded, which didn’t clear anything up.

“Practice for what?”

Arthur hesitated to speak, and you rolled your eyes. “Arthur, I caught you breakin’ into my house. If you’re a thief, just say it.”

“I ain’t a thief.” He replied defensively.

“Sure, whatever you say. I just sure as hell know you ain’t a deputy.”

Arthur laughed. “Ain’t that the truth.”

“So why are you pretendin’ to be one?”

The man beside you sighed. “It’s a long story… and one I ain’t so sure I can tell yet.”

Silence fell over the two of you, the only sound the sizzling of food as it cooked. It was you who spoke first. “So who are you then, Arthur Morgan?”

Arthur didn’t respond at first, and you watched his struggle to come up with an answer. “I ain’t quite sure,” he finally said, uncertainty lacing his voice.

“You’re… not sure?”

He shrugged. “I’m a lot of things, I suppose. I guess I can’t just put it into one word."

“Alright, how ‘bout this then. Whenever you’re not here, what’re you doin’?”

“I… I’m workin’. Odd jobs and stuff like that.”

“Do those odd jobs include thievin’?”

Exasperated, Arthur made a noise between a scoff and a chuckle. “I suppose it does. Houses, banks, trains. Whatever gets me money, I guess.”

Grinning at your small victory at his admission, you poked him lightly in the chest. “So you’re an outlaw then.”

“And if I am?”

It was your turn to shrug. “Doesn’t change anythin’, really.”

Arthur noticeably relaxed at your answer. “Good.”

“I’m assumin’ Dutch and Bill are outlaws too, then.”

“Jesus, woman, is this an interrogation?” You heard Arthur mutter, and you laughed.

“Sorry, sorry, just curious.” Your gaze went back to the food, and you noticed that everything was almost done cooking. “Was I right though?”

“I… Yes.”

You hummed in response. Bill you were expecting, but the other man you weren’t. He looked like he belonged in high society with you, not living a life from the reaches of the law. Maybe appearances aren't always to be believed, then. “Thank you.”

Arthur raised a brow. “For?”

“Answering my questions. And not just brushing them off. Thank you.”

“Yeah,” Arthur responded, not expecting thanks for such a simple thing. “You need any help with this?” He gestured to the food on the stove. “I ain’t much of a cook, but if you need help…”

Never once in your marriage had Hans offered to help you as you cooked, even when you had to make large amounts for dinner parties or guests. A warm smile found its way on your face, and you shook your head. “I think I got it. It’s almost done, anyway. You wanna grab some plates for me?” You pointed to a nearby cupboard.

“‘Course.” Arthur stepped away from you, fulfilling your request, and your eyes followed him as he moved across the kitchen. Just like the shoes by the door, something about this just felt right, even though everything in your brain was screaming that this was wrong. This domesticity, this familiarity, everything was wrong.

But damn if it didn’t feel good, like something you didn't know was missing inside of you had been returned.

Arthur returned a few moments later with two plates in his hand, setting them on the counter beside you. You spoke as you began to lead the food onto it. “Go ahead and take a seat. I’ll bring the plates out shortly. Utensils are in the drawer there” You ended with a point.

“You sure?”

You nodded. “Want anythin’ to drink?”

“Whatever you’re havin’.” Arthur’s voice was distant as he moved away toward the dining room.

Wine, then. The plates were hot in your hands as you brought them out. Arthur sat at one end of the table, where Hans would sit, and you set it down in front of him. You faltered for a second as you debated where to set yours. Normally, you’d sit on the other end of the table, with four chairs of space between you and Hans, but you figured it would be rude to do that right now. Besides, the selfish part of you wanted to be as close to Arthur as you could.

Leaving a chair’s space, you set your plate down before returning to the kitchen, grabbing a bottle of wine, which you opened, and two glasses. Arthur stood when you returned, pulling your chair out, pushing you in when you sat. “You sure you’re an outlaw?” You joked, pouring out two glasses of the red liquid.

“I’m certain.” He took the glass of wine from you once you offered it. “Thank you, darlin’.”

“Of course.” Picking up the utensils that Arthur had grabbed for the both of you, you both dug in. You kept an eye on Arthur as he took the first bite, feeling self conscious of your cooking. He stilled, mid-chew, and you immediately thought the worst.

“Holy shit,” he muttered under his breath. You took a bite, and you thought it didn’t taste bad, but you were partial to your own cooking. “That’s really good.”

Oh. “I’m glad.” You tried to not sound overly relieved.

Arthur took another bite, groaning appreciatively. You really did try not to memorize the sound of it. “This is the best thing I’ve tasted in a while.”

“Do I even want to know what you possibly could’ve been eating that makes this taste incredible.”

“Probably not,” Arthur admitted.

The rest of dinner was filled with idle chat, until Arthur asked a question that had you stopping mid-bite, fork handing in the air. “This ain’t poisoned, right?” He asked it as a joke, but there was a hint of genuine worry in his eyes.

“I sure hope not,” you responded, finishing the bite. Arthur didn’t elaborate further, only responding with a small noise. “Well, you can’t just ask that and then not explain. Is… is that something that’s happened before?”

“Unfortunately, yes,” Arthur chuckled humorlessly. “There’s a pig farm north of here I stopped by two weeks ago. Friendly couple invited me in, we shared a drink, and before I knew it I was wakin’ up in a muddy pit with my money gone.”

You had stared at him, shocked, as he recounted his story. “You’re kiddin’?”

“I wish I was. Wasn’t the first person they’d done it to, either. You wanna know the worst thing?” Arthur asked, leaning into you. You nodded, leaning in as well. “The couple? They were brother and sister, and their mother was their first victim.”

You were horrified and intrigued all at the same time. “Brother and sister? Oh my God,” you shuddered. “Did you get your money back?” Arthur nodded. “There are some weird folks out there.”

“You meet plenty of ‘em when you’re on the road. I don’t think there’s enough time in the world to tell you ‘bout them.”

At the mention of time, you glanced out one of the nearby windows, finding it nearly pitch black outside. Arthur glanced outside as well, an apologetic look on his face when his eyes went back on you. “You have to go, don’t you?”

“I’m ‘fraid so,” Arthur sighed. You were happy to see that his plate had been entirely cleared, and he finished off the last of the wine in his glass. Standing, you cleared the table, bringing the items over and setting them in the sink. Arthur followed in behind you, carrying the half-full bottle of wine.

“Thank you, again,” you heard Arthur say, and you waved him off.

“You don’t gotta keep thankin’ me, Arthur. It was truly my pleasure.”

“Do you need help cleain’-”

“Arthur! Go!” You laughed, shooing him away. “I got this.”

Conceding, he headed to the doorway, putting his shoes on. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw his hat on the couch, about to be left behind. Quickly grabbing it, you set it on his head as he was leaning forward, securing his shoes. He let out a confused noise, but he smiled when he realized what you’d done. Standing up back at full height, he secured it on, flashing you a smile. “How’d I look?” He jested, a playful glint in his eye.

Like the most beautiful thing I’ve ever laid eyes on. “Like an outlaw,” you responded. “You just need a cigar or somethin’ and you’d really look like one.”

“That reminds me…” Arthur dug into a sachet strapped across his body. Once he found what he was looking for he presented it to you. It was a small silver lighter, which looked hilariously small in his hands. “Since your last one was a ‘piece of shit’, I figured you’d want a new one.”

“For me?” You asked and Arthur responded with a look that read uh, yeah?

“It ain’t much, I know-”

“Thank you!” You cut him off, beaming brightly at him. “It means a lot that you remembered.”

“Alright, well…” you watched as he rubbed the back of neck, not knowing how to respond to the praise, “have a good night, darlin’.”

“Stay safe, Arthur.”

With a final nod, Arthur left. You couldn’t decide if you wanted to laugh or cry, so you did neither, simply heading upstairs to your bedroom. Dishes could be done in the morning, you decided.

Your mind raced as you got ready for the night. You knew he didn’t mean anything besides being nice with getting you the lighter, but it left your heart happy that someone not only listened to your grievances, small or large, and did something to fix them.

Slipping under the sheets, you fiddled with it in your hands. You struck it, the spark catching almost immediately, creating a steady flame. Setting in on the nightstand beside you, you held on to the happiness you’d felt the entire night, and you fell asleep with a smile on your face.

You pretended to not feel a new sensation growing in your heart, something you wouldn’t dare name.

#rdr2 #red dead redemption 2 #arthur morgan #arthur morgan rdr2 #arthur morgan x reader #arthur morgan x female reader

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emry-stars-art · 3 months

Note

Oooh do go on about raven neil and jean 👀 (if you’re so inclined ☺️) - @neil-jostenminyard

*chanting* raven Neil raven Neil raven Neil (and lots of Jean) (quite possibly even jeaneil) (although most of the thoughts are post-ravens lol)

So my personal thoughts about this are also mostly thanks to chats and inspiration/prompting from @jtl-fics and @greenautumnleaves so if you see any additions from them on this post it's most likely also thoughts I adore lol

Anyway this got kind of long so:

I ALSO latched onto Sakavic's statement that Neil wouldn't leave Jean in the nest bc yeah it makes sense and also ow

But just the two of them being partnered up like Riko and Kevin as is common in these aus, and then after Kevin gets out first, they have to stick together and rely on each other even MORE because Riko is pissed that Kevin is gone and probably takes it out on the next closest two idk

But in our imaginings, Renee or Andrew get Jean out quicker than in canon, again because Neil would refuse to leave Jean behind and I can only imagine he'd go so far as to trick or manipulate Jean into leaving. Maybe by being at a certain place at a certain time to get picked up, however he can make it happen. But the issue we run into is that once that's done, what the hell would Neil have left at Evermore, besides Exy that maybe he still loves deep down. But Exy's been so warped being raised on it at the nest that at that point his obsession is barely recognizable.

Kevin might recognize this, because he knew Neil in the nest. Or at least he knew the person that Neil presented himself as. But it's probably more likely that Jean recognizes this, and yeah things are super rocky and weird but Jean can barely even function without Neil. So back a fox goes to rescue their second raven's partner.

They bring Neil back to Palmetto and he and Jean are completely inseparable. Emotionally and physically. Neither of them act like, feel like, or even call themselves "touchy feely" or "clingy" people but as soon as Neil is treated for various intense and mysterious injuries, they're curled up in some hidden place for hours. Even the short time having left Neil behind made Jean almost too anxious to leave his room. Even the short time without Jean - now with more punishment for aiding Jean's escape - was enough for Neil to consider something drastic.

(side note: Andrew now has not one, not two, but three gorgeous tragic boys under his supervision and I'm sure he's handling that totally normally lmao. But it's so obvious to him that Jean and Neil have something going on that any ideas for himself aren't worth entertaining.)

So it's a little easier to ease out of various habits and thought processes because Jean and Neil are doing it together, with outside help. They fix their sleep cycles/rhythms, try a slightly more normal college diet, and most slowly lose their "win or die" mindset in practices. They're still never seen without each other - Wymack had a talk with some of the school board about their schedules and dorm arrangements for the first semester. In reality, he's not sure if he should have them go cold turkey on raven habits or if he should take it slower, but he's doing his damn best to get these boys adjusted to life outside a cult. And Neil and Jean, whether or not they actively realize it, find that step to be the one they absolutely cannot take. Why would they go through the agony of learning to live separately if they don't have to. When no one else understands them like the other, when they've already seen each other's worst so nothing else is worth keeping secret between them. Who else is Jean going to go to when having a better life makes him feel like he more deserves death or punishment and the guilt hits him so hard he can't breathe, much less sleep. Who else is Neil going to go to when he can't let go of his birthright - if he isn't good at what he does (Exy) he literally could just be shot like a lame horse - and he's not allowed to go practice Exy against a wall to the point of tearing himself apart anymore so he forces his feet away from the court to find the only person he knows he'll listen to when they say no.

Kevin, of course, is keeping a close eye on the two, whether unintentionally or on purpose is unclear. Neil still has a mouth on him, he sometimes plays mind games with the foxes like chess against himself, and most of all does not allow anyone to get too close to Jean. Jean is still quiet, having learned not only to take a punishment without resistance but also that Neil will speak first. Neil will resist so Jean doesn't have to. He's safer in Neil's shadow.

Maybe it's a phrase or warning that Neil uses and that Kevin recognizes. Maybe it's a gesture between Neil and Jean that Kevin oversees. Maybe it's just the general demeanor of the two. But whatever it is is familiar to Kevin, not in a "I remember this from them in the nest" way. He can recognize by now that Riko was not good to him, he can acknowledge it even if the rest of him hasn't caught up. He looks at Jean in Neil's shadow and remembers himself in Riko's.

As if Butcher's son Nathaniel Wesninski wasn't already scary enough on his own.

But Kevin won't allow this kind of thing on his court, and he's not good at it but he is still trying to let go of unhealthy raven ideals. If Neil is holding onto some fucked up dynamic, Kevin is going to put a stop to it.

He pulls Jean aside, a miraculous feat. He asks what Neil has done.

"Mistake" might be an understatement.

It could very easily be the longest string of words Jean has said to anyone besides Neil. Kevin doesn't know near as much French as he does in canon - Neil is the one that shares that secret defiance - so it's all clear English, Jean making sure Kevin understands every word. Kevin should never speak about Neil that way again. He knows nothing about them, he shouldn't so much as pretend to understand Neil. Neil is the only good thing that ever happened to Jean. Kevin never cared enough to bring it up in the nest, so he has no right to start caring now.

It isn't great for their already tumultuous relationship. Kevin wonders for a bit if Jean would tell Neil about it - then next practice Neil doesn't even try to work with Kevin, even after the two had made it a point as strikers to figure out how to. He ignores the other strikers entirely, falling immediately and seamlessly into perfect synch with Jean behind him, speaking hardly a word of English the whole practice. Because he knows that will make Kevin even more angry than Neil being actively hostile to his new teammates.

Kevin isn't sure what he was expecting. Chances are Jean hadn't even needed to bring it up for Neil to notice something was off.

As for Andrew, I think he could still pick up a game of truths. He'd need to offer a similar deal as he did for canon Neil, this time for Neil-and-Jean, the entity of the two of them together. I think he could ensure some cooperation by saying he won't force Jean and Neil apart from each other the way some others have muttered about doing. Even if Neil knows by now the codependence isn't healthy, neither of them are ready to give it up.

It probably really throws Andrew to hear that they don't consider themselves to be an item. They're together, sure, but for a raven that doesn't always, maybe even rarely, means "in a traditional relationship". Neil and Jean definitely never offer any clarification. That's no one else's business, even if they could explain it so that a non-raven could understand. Generally I feel like if this is an andreil universe, it's an even longer, stranger, more winding road to get there than in canon.

I'm almost CERTAIN there's more Im forgetting about rn but this has been my taster on raven Neil+Jean, I hope it was at least a little bit coherent, and greenautumnleaves - I hope this comes anywhere close to your galaxy brain ideas on these two lol. Maybe I'll be back with other thoughts later who knows

#maybe i lied. maybe i will make raven neil/jean art of my own accord #because if any other pairing in the series drives me crazy it is whatever tf these two have going on #thank you for allowing me to text dump lmao #not art sorry guys #neil josten #jean moreau #jeaneil #nathaniel wesninski #raven neil au #oh also. i had to throw andrew in there not because of my vanilla shipping tendencies #but because theres far too many ways for things to go so wrong and end so badly for him in universes where he doesnt have neil #so he at LEAST has a bit of something. does this make sense

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ultimate-blorbo-collector · 1 month

Text

OK, after my finals, I'll start writing these, but I've been on a classics binge. I can't get these out of my head.

I think for angst/power couple shit, Aventurine with a character who's got a Count of Monte Cristo story arc would be so good.

Like, you're at the height of your life, and a bunch of people frame you for something you didn't do. They're jealous and want to steal your shit or you see them commit a crime or something. Then, you escape from prison, change your name, get a huge fortune, and get your revenge.

Each drabble that I've written, you and Aventurine plot and scheme together. I feel like Aventurine would be down for helping you get your revenge, depending on what your revenge is.

For Ratio, and this is kind of fluffy (like post-angst?? Recovering reader?), I think Reader coming from a place that's like 1984 or Fahrenheit 451 where things like books are banned and there's all this hyper-surveillance and public punishment. Then, suddenly you find yourself staying with Ratio (Or maybe the IPC takes over the planet and repeals these laws idk), and now everything is quiet, private, and you're allowed to learn.

And it doesn't even have to be that dramatic. Like, Ratio's s/o coming from a place where they don't have the opportunity to formally learn or are constantly surveilled, only to stay at Ratio's where you're free to do what you want, experience all of this new stuff, and hear these ideas you've never heard of before.

And with Sunday, I could really see something with the reader I mentioned for Ratio, but they go the complete opposite direction. Like, they go in a Captain Beatty character arc of "I’ve read all of these books and ideas but they just cause pain and confusion. Instant gratification is so much easier and better." It's heavily implied that on Penacony, you're not supposed to talk about bad things, so this reader could be an antagonist to Ratio/Aventurine/Trailblazer.

#Aventurine x reader #Dr Ratio x reader #x reader #Veritas Ratio x reader #Sunday x reader #hsr x reader

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allkindfangirl · 1 year

Text

lost and found I lewis hamilton

pairing: lewis hamilton x reader warnings: none summary: in which all he needs is his favorite woman by his side to feel better again

It hadn't been easy for Lewis these past couple of weeks. The season started off like a nightmare. He didn't feel the high from racing like he used to. He was used to fighting. He had fought his whole life. He knew he had to fight to get through it but sometimes the devastation overtook his body. Racing recently felt different to him. It was more of a fight than feeling the high and freedom in the car.

It had been hard for her as well. She had seen him being devastated before, when he lost races or didn't finish in the position he wanted to. But this time it was different. It wasn't usual for him to let his head down, not like this. He had always been so driven, so motivated to push himself further but she felt like this time it was hard for him to be strong all the time.

The worst part was that she wasn't able to see him. She had to take care of her work, her studies at home so she wasn't able to be with him in Saudi Arabia or when he went to his home in Monte Carlo after. Though she could hear it in his voice and saw it in his eyes when watching the interviews from after the race.

"You know it's always gonna get better Lewis. This is not the end. There's so much more to come for you.", she whispered. The bed underneath her was comfortable, still, she would rather be in his bed and in his arm. She saw his face on her phone, the lights in his room were dimmed and he looked like he would fall asleep at any time.

"I know." His voice was raspy and quiet. He didn't feel joyful, though he tried to push the awful feeling in his stomach away. He knew it wouldn't make anything better to fall into the dark place that was so hard to escape. He knew he had to push through but it would be so much easier if she would be there.

"I can't wait to see you in Australia.", he said, a light smile appearing on his face. Her heart felt warmer after seeing the light change in his face. "Me too baby.", she whispered. They talked for another 20 minutes before she send him to bed, seeing how much he needed to rest and get some sleep.

She felt the Australian sun on her skin as soon as she stepped outside the airport. She almost couldn't bare the excitement in her stomach to see Lewis. The car took her straight to the entrance of the paddocks as Qualifying would start in a couple of hours.

Fighting against the Jetlag she stepped outside the car, got through the entrance and was faced with a hundred of people scurry around in front of the paddocks.

"I'm inside.", she quickly replied to Lewis message earlier and made her way to the Mercedes motorhome that wasn't hard to find.

Her heart skipped a beat when she saw her handsome boyfriend sitting in front of the motorhome, sunglasses on and a coffee in front of him.

"Hi handsome.", she called out which made his head snap in her direction. The biggest smile appeared on his face as he stood up and walked over to her as fast as possible.

They hadn't seen each other in three weeks. Though being used to the part-time-long-distance-relationship it always filled them with so much joy seeing each other again and feeling the butterflies when being in each others arms.

His smile didn't leave his face as Lewis wrapped his arms around her. "I'm so happy you're finally here.", he whispered against her neck. "Me too." His sunglasses were now resting on his head, giving her the opportunity to look into his beautiful dark brown eyes. They had lit up as soon as he saw here, coming towards him. His body had been longing for her for the last couple of months that he couldn't really bare the joy he felt through his whole body.

She gave him energy, she made him find his way again, his will to push through this weekend.

my masterlist

my first time writing for F1. I really really hope you like it xx this is just a stupid little blurb that i couldn't stop thinking about my lewis requests are open <3

#lewis hamilton x reader #lewis hamilton #formula 1 #f1 #mercedes amg f1 #dts

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lyramundana · 10 months

Note

Hii, fellow poly Minsung whore activist here🥰 I’m nervous about using my account so I went anon, I hope you don’t mind. I have a little scenario here that I’m probably so wrong for but I’m delulu ash.

Maybe reader (whose a fan or a friend is dragging her along with them) meets Minsung (who’re already in a relationship ofc) in a city they’re having a concert in. Minsung are like “hey ykw she kinda fine, let’s spice things up and bring her back to the hotel.” During their night together, the boys use degradation, praise, grips hard enough to bruise, and soft touches just to make her head spin.

Now I love me some a sprinkle of angst. She has a moment of overthinking after Minsung fall asleep and escapes?? Sort of lol. Minsung do not like this, no no no😔.

That night, she ends up at their concert with some good ass ground floor tickets. While she doubted they would see her and if they did, they probably wouldn’t recognize her (girl like they weren’t giving you the best dicking down of your life the night before), they do in fact see her and you just made this easier for them bbg. They told the other members and security guards to bring her backstage after the show.

Oh babe they mad as hellll. They don’t even wait to get back to the hotel as they drag her to an empty room and destroy her. We’re talking hand prints on her ass, more prominent fingerprint shapes on her hips, arms and neck, tears streaming down her face, the whole 9 yards.

Idk where to go from there tbh. Anyways I hope you enjoyed my delulu thoughts <3

Okay now, honey. First of all, there's no such thing as a "wrong" scenario. Everything that it's discussed in this blog is acceptable and very much not-delulu, so don't brush off your scenarios. Specially when is so FUCKING GOOD AND DELICIOUS like this one. Like, excuse me🥵🥵🥵?? You came up with this masterpiece and brought it to me for free?? Sweetie, you should post it in your own blog and let the world see this jewel of yours. Don't feel nervous of using your account. I always make my horny, unhinged requests displaying my username. This is Tumblr. No one here can judge you for your thoughts

You bet I enjoyed every line of this delulu side of yours.

Reader doesn't really follow the group, but her friend is a Stay and this concert is the lifelong opportunity they've been dreaming off, but they don't want to go alone, so they drag Reader to accompany them. While the friend is resting in the hotel/house, Reader decides to take a stroll around the city and comes across MinSung at some point. Maybe they meet in a shop, where they struck a converstation about common interests, and seeing they get along well MinSung agree and say "fuck it, can we join you?" and that's how they get to know each other better.

Reader doesn't know who they are, but their faces are familiar, and they're just happy to chat with someone like normal people. They've wanted to explore the city a bit before the concert, as the weather looked great for some alone time together, but they encountered the language barrier issue and the lack of knowledge about the place. When Reader appears and helps them out, being so friendly and nice about it, their first instinct is glue themselves to her for the rest of journey. Also, they find her really attractive and can't help but admire her discreetly and exchange appreciative comments that she can't understand. And that's how they spent their day hanging out, just the three of them, while Reader acts like a guide and they start to be bolder with her.

At some point they're sitting in a bar together, drinking a bit, and they have privacy to talk about anything. It's also then whey they begin to make their attraction clear. They've been so fucking stressed with this tour, sex recently hasn't been enough for them, and she's just so gorgeous. So cute. The way she speaks, moves, even the way she dress is driving them mad slowly. It doesn't help that she returns every bold gesture from them. She's not blind. She finds them hot too and it's been a while since she had some "fun".

So, after a while of wandering hands, spicy "jokes" and suggestive comments, the tension feels too thick and they throw the question in.

"We should get going back to our hotel room. Want to come with us and see it?"

She's not drunk enough to miss the intentions behind that question, but she's tipsy enough to accept.

The flirting doesn't stop and when they set a foot in the elevator, the tension snaps. They jump at her like hungry wolves, biting and grabbing every piece of skin they can get their hands on, and Reader welcomes all of it like a submissive lamb, ready to be devoured.

They struggle to open the door, being so occupied feeling her up under her clothes and leaving marks already. Once they're inside, one of them closes the door with a kick without taking his attention from her. They leave a path of clothes behind them that ends up in their bedroom and then she's thrown to the bed. She doesn't have time to recover before they're on her again, exploring every inch of her know naked body with their mouths and hands. Her brain is all mushy from the intense pleasure and adrenaline she's feeling. MinSung unleash all the pent up frustrations and desire they've been dealing with on her.

The entire night was filled with her moans and whimpers while they took her roughly, leaving their hands printed on her hips and inner thighs, as they groaned and cried out of sheer pleasure and relief. Sometimes they went at her at the same time, others they took turns while one watched.

"Such a good girl for us, isn't she, jagi?"

"Damn right she is, so eager to please us, to let us play with her body."

"Look at her, so obedient and cute for us. What a good whore, letting herself be fucked by some men she doesn't even know"

"Go on, use your mouth like the little slut you are. Nice job, kitten"

"We'll fill you up so much it'll be leaking out of you for days"

Her mind turns blank, the world spins, and her body starts to shake uncontrollably and tremble with the amount of orgasm she had. They grab her legs and torso with such force it feels they're trying to press the imprint themselves in it, moving her body as they please to find the right angle. When she cums again, she's half-unconscious and the boys are tired too, finally spent. They clean her up, massage the bruises the left and watch her fall asleep while caressing her face and kissing her skin. They chat for a while before the tiredness consumes them too, Reader safely kept in their arms.

The morning after, she's the first to wake up and doesn't take long to realize what happened. She remembers enough of it and feels her face get warm at the memory, but also gets giddy at it. She stretches a bit, careful to not wake them up, and supress a hiss of pain when she feels the marks they left. She reaches for her phone, reading the messages and calls from her friend, who's worried sick, at which Reader calms them down by giving them a "censored" version of the events. Then the friends reminds her of the concert and sends a photo of one of the promotional posters, featuring all members.

Reader feels her blood freeze inside her body.

She turns around to look at the boys in bed, then at the picture on the phone, then at the bed again, and she feels faint.

Maybe it's the remnants of the alcohol, maybe it's the weight of the revelation, maybe it's the lack of sleep she got, but Reader has to fight off a panic attack and the only thing she can think of at this moment is running away from this situation. So she gets dressed, grabs her stuff, and leaves hurriedly without waking them up and full intention of not looking back. When the boys wake up, they expected to see her in their arms still and maybe get another round, but imagine their shock when they see she's not there. Ohh honey, they're seriously mad. Why the fuck did she run? How could she after they night they had? They try to brush off the anger because they know chances of seeing her again are slim and there's no point.

Meanwhile, Reader's friend notices she's not quite the same since she came back and she's even more reluctant than before in attending the concert. To get her friend off her back, she admits she saw MinSung during her walk and chatted with them "a bit" and now she's embarrased to see them. Her friend, obviously, has a fangirl moment at first and chastises Reader for not telling her first, bombing her with questions, but she avoids the spicy parts of the story. Her friend finally tells her to not worry, that although their seats give a good view of the stage, it'll be very hard for the boys to spot her in the crowd anyway. Reader relents and goes to the concert, having dressed prettily at her friends' insistence because "they have to look their best for the occasion!". When they arrive, Reader feels more at ease with the amount of people surrounding her and thinks her friend said the true.

However, when the group comes to the stage, she feels her heart stop at recognizing the men she had that glorious night of sex with and becomes shifty. They don't make signs of having spoted her, even when Jisung came near their zone, he didn't seemed to notice her, and she allowed herself to enjoy the performance, convinced that they was safe. But she didn't know Jisung had indeed spoted her, hence he aproached their location to confirm. He didn't hesitate in telling Minho, and when they overcame the shock, they former anger came back again and they agreed to a plan. Stays could feel a shift in the boys' performance, they seemed more brutal, harsher.

When the concert ended, Reader was about to leave with her friend until a security guard stopped her and told her she was demanded backstage. Both of them were shocked and confused, and Reader's friend even acted worried, refusing to ler her go in fear she got in trouble for something. Reader calmed her down and asked her to wait in the hotel, since the man told them it wasn't anything bad. While she was leaving, the friend winked at her and exclaimed "tell me all the details when you sign the NDA".

A staff members takes her to an empty dressing room and tells her to wait, leaving her alone there. She's fidgeting, not knowing what to expect but having a small suspicion. Suddenly, the door opens with a slam and she jumps in the place. When she sees the two boys enter and locking the door behind them, she knows she's fucked.

They let her know exactly how pissed off they are, interrogating her and even accusing her of being a fan pretending to not know them just to get her wet dream come true. She argues back and denies it all, returning all their yells, until a hand grabs her painfully by the jaw.

"You don't fucking get to talk back to us, whore. We should've put you in your place from the beginning"

"I think she's a little too high up there, jagiya. Let's remind her exactyl what her place is"

All the gentleness they showed the first night is gone. Her clothes are ripped in shreds and thrown carelessly around the room, as she's pushed forcefully on the ground.

They don't hide their satisfaction and pride at seeing the faint marks they left previously, pressing them enough to make her whine in pain.

"Don't whine, slut. We're about to give you even more of them."

They go at her at the same time, no turns now. They edge her until she's sobbing and screaming, first with their fingers and then with their tongues. She gets spanked by one of their belts, feeling the bruises starting to form in her ass cheeks and thighs. She's then gagged with the same belt because "way too fucking loud, kitten. you're not allowed to make a sound".

When she's spasming, eyes rolling back and begging through the belt for some release, anything, the boys exchange a knowing glance and untie the gag, letting her breathe through her mouth in relief. But her relief doesn't last when they position her in the middle, with both of their dicks inching to her cunt. She knows they're up to something, but her brain is too fucked to guess what. When she feels both of their cocks entering her at once, she's about to scream again but a hand quickly covers her mouth, and they both start moving agressively inside her, leaving their dicks printed in her walls. The feelinf their cocks rubbing against each other and her clenching almost makes them cum again, but they control themselves.

They fucked her back and forth across the room, moving from the ground to the couch to the chairs to the make up tables, etc.

"That's what you fucking deserve for leaving us, baby. What the fuck were you thinking with that dead brain of yours, hm?"

"Look at her, so cockdumb already, acting like a desesperate bitch in heat. Aren't two cocks enough for you?"

"Is this what you wanted? Being fucked by two celebrities to share the experience with your friends? Of course you did. You're nothing but an attention seeking slut, only thinking about having a dick inside you"

"We'll make sure you can't even walk after this. You're not going anywhere this time, darling. Let's see how can you run away then."

She can no longer tell if what she's feeling is pain or pleasure, but when they cum inside her and she feels both of their cocks twitching inside her, it triggers her own orgams and her vision turns white. She faints in their arms, muttering and having spasms. They pause to recover their breaths too, checking on her worriedly and chuckling softly when she replies gibberish. One of them lifts her up bridal style and lay her down in the couch, both caging her with their bodies.

"You were ours from the moment you entered our your bedroom"

Tagging @channieandhisgoonsquad @2chopsticks2eyes @sweetracha because they gave me ideas for this. Feel free to add something or give your own version of it. The more the merrier.

#poly minsung #minsung x reader #lee know/han jisung x reader #lee know x reader x han jisung #skz smut #lee know smut #han jisung smut #requested #skz drabble

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liquidsao · 6 months

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im alive

and obsessed with tmr and newtmas, and maybe some headcanons??

I didnt read the book, im still waiting for it, so if something of my headcanons is something that was in the book sorry

Spoilers warning!¡!¡!!¡!¡!!¡!¡!

Thomas is really VERY shy, Newt is not, he is much more confident about everything. They both have a lot of scars, really a lot, they love to look at them on each others bodies, they tell the stories of how they got them. Thomas remembers something from his past life and tells Newt, he likes to tell this science things to him, Newt likes to listen to Thomas, one of the things he learned from Thomas is a little bit of sign language. Couple bracelets? Newt made them once, when they were still in the Glade, actually he made one for himself first, and then Thomas appeared, he didnt have time to finish Thomas one then, but finished it later during these rare breaks. Newt condemns this recklessness and foolishness, but he follows it and would continue to follow, isn’t that the same thing? Are they the kind of people who just started dating? They didn't understand how or at what moment, no one seemed to understand, it just happened. Actually they never fully understood, it just happened, they don’t know when or how. Newt writes something and lets it go for wind to pick up and blow away, he doesn’t care where it goes.

Many of them don't sleep enough and don't eat enough, there is so much stress and pressure, Thomas is no exception, he has developed a lot of eczema due to this, they cause a lot of nasty little problems. Newt tries to make sure that Thomas gets enough sleep and food, not always successfully, he likes to take care of Thomas's eczema, and consults with the camp doctors about what is best to use to cure this.

Thomas was interested in the reason of Newts limp, for the first time he asked Minho about it, but he said that he had no right to talk about it, that Newt had to tell Thomas himself, somewhere after the infection, but before admitting that he was infected, Newt thought that Tommy should know about this, back then in the Glade they tried all the escape options, he personally tried one of options, and he talked about it, about how he climbed the wall, about how he felt, about how he was saved, Thomas didn’t know how to react, he just sitting next to him and listening to it, he was nearby, he was sorry.

Thomas writes letters to Newt in Safe Haven, describes everything that happened and just let them go to the wind, no matter where they take them, he does as Newt did, he will read it, he will definitely read it, as Tommy will definitely understand, right? He has nightmares, nightmares with Newt, he didnt save him, at first he couldnt sleep and didn’t sleep, everyone he couldn’t save came to him when he sleeps, especially Newt. Every little thing reminded Thomas of him.

If Newt had survived, his vision got worse a little and his hearing very much. When he once learned sign language from Thomas now helped a lot. Newt's limp also got worse and he has developed tremors. Brenda got something of it? But much easier because she was cured much earlier. Thomas can't let Newt out of his sight, he's afraid of losing him again. Newt was cured, but he sees black veins as hallucinations, Thomas assures him that everything is fine.

Joint sparring?? Even in Safe Haven, many of them can't get rid of the feeling of constant danger, they continue to train. Newt is better at beating people up, Thomas is better at carrying heavy objects. Thomas, along with Minho, are one of those who became hunters, they know how to run, make traps, I think Thomas would not mind archery. Lizzy and Brenda are such bestie to everyone. Lizzy asked Thomas to tell him about his brother, died him or not.

#fanart #art #newtmas #newtmas fanart #tmr #the maze runner #tmr newt #tmr thomas #thomas #newt #newt tmr #thomas tmr #headcanon #tmr headcanons #newtmas headcanon #tmr fanart

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sugar-omi · 1 month

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how do u think the our life characters would react to getting high for the first time (and do u think they would prefer smoking or edibles) ((sorry if this is a weird ask idk i’m high rn))

LOL dw about it, send me all the high asks yall like. okay ive projected on cove before. w my one post where they got high n had sex

n I will do it again🫶🫶

cove and derek are like me during my first time getting high, basically has an anxiety attack the first time they get high.

derek because he feels like hes rebelling.. was not emotionally prepared for that.

after that, though, will have a kinda better experience. next couple of times, really only tried it a 2nd time because he was overthrowing and couldn't sleep. can't make any more regrets than he already has so why not get high in the middle of the night?

think it mostly just makes him giggly, and sleepy. also a bit flirty n chatty

cove, just like how he is an anxious/paranoid drunk, transfers to his high. at least sometimes. stays away from substances if he's anxious or sad, anything like that. just doesn't help. makes him feel so much worse

now if he's emotionally stable, and all that. acts pretty normal. mm he's more sassy though, n touchy (somehow?!)

FLIRTY. ohhh he gets flirty fs... yeah he just gets confident n says whatever he wants

baxter. mm he gets weird I'd say. mf starts talking aliens and shit n has deep conversations n revelations

becomes supppperrrr cuddly and clingy. he becomes jus a big ol baby<333

first time getting high, definitely took too much, n is giggly n stuff. just helps him relax, distract from his home life n all his issues. does end up going to bed early because he's very aware of how bad it is to use it as an temporary escape.

now whos a smoker... I feel like cove would surprisingly be a smoker. rolls good but he does prefer edibles probably, although probably is more likely to smoke as he gets older, enjoys the smell and shot gunning with you, also thinks it's easier to control his high

derek n baxter are edible girlies. derek just can't smoke to save his life, coughs like a mf. he's dying. baxter, ion have an explanation, he just seems like he'd prefer edibles a Bit more than smoking, but he's not too picky. or maybe you can shotgun him, he'd like that a lot too

#olba #cove holden #baxter ward #derek suarez

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leoramage · 8 months

Text

HEADCANON - dating casimiro "madrid" cenamor aranda of la casa de papel / money heist (carlos sainz jr. au)

⊹ masterlist ⊹ taglist ⊹ visuals ⊹

⊹⊱ trigger warning - [google translated spanish, allusions to smut]

⊹⊱ theme - [money heist / la casa de papel au]

⊹⊱ pairings - [carlos sainz jr. x elite!y/n]

⊹⊱ synopsis - wanting to date the heist's ladies man? beware it is a passionate adventure that takes you on a rollercoaster ride of emotions, where you discover that there's much more beneath his enigmatic exterior.

"tus besos son versos en mi piel, y en tus abrazos encuentro mi abrigo, somos dos almas entrelazadas en la noche, en esta relación, un amor que sigo."

translation: your kisses are verses on my skin, and in your embraces, i find my shelter, we are two souls intertwined in the night, in this relationship, a love i still follow.

From the very beginning, you'd be drawn into his world of charm and charisma, an irresistible magnetism that makes every moment together feel like an enchanting escape from the ordinary and manages to sweep you off your feet. You'll find yourself in awe of his ability to turn ordinary moments into extraordinary memories.

Dates with Madrid would be nothing short of charming masterpieces. He'd meticulously plan each one, ensuring they're not just memorable but magical. Picture rooftop stargazing sessions, where you'd lose yourselves in the vastness of the night sky, sharing dreams and secrets under a blanket of stars. And be prepared for surprise getaways to picturesque destinations that seem like they've been plucked from the pages of a fairy tale. He's an adventurous man and knows every spot in Spain with the back of his hand, you would not get lost with him. But you might get lost within his eyes.

But it's not just his charm that would captivate you; it's his devilish flirtatiousness. Madrid's natural inclination to flirt would keep the spark alive in your relationship. You'd experience playful compliments that make your heart flutter, stolen kisses that leave you breathless.

NSFW! Your bodies intertwined, his lips meeting yours with a passionate hunger and claiming you as his own. His fingers explore the curves of your body, feeling each part of you with desire. Breathlessly breaking apart from the kiss, and laying his lips onto your neck with a need to feel the taste and the scent of your skin. Slowly trailing kisses down to your thighs, working his way towards his main goal.

He loves validation, as a neglected child left in an adoption home in the streets of Spain, he wasn't able to receive love from parental figures. Feed the flames of his ego, tell him that he's better than your exes, you'd have a taste of heaven ahead of you. His reaction? He is electric. His eyes darken with desire, and a predatory intensity flickers in his gaze. It's as if a heady aphrodisiac. He becomes a fervent and passionate lover, eager to prove that he is indeed the best you've ever had.

NSFW! "Mi amor, te lo dije. Y te lo demostraré." (my love, I told you. And I'll show you) He began kissing your neck once more as his fingers curled inside of you, palming your sensitive bud and making you whine from endless hours of teasing.

"Estás tan deliciosa, y yo no resisto a la tentación de comerte." (you are so delicious, and I can't resist the temptation to eat you.) He looks up grinning like a devil, his tongue licking his now slick wet fingers because of your juices before giving you a wink that is followed by a sly smirk.

Madrid's primary love language is physical touch. He expresses his affection through tender caresses, passionate kisses, and the warmth of his embrace. To him, physical closeness is the most intimate way to convey his love and devotion. He also shows his love through acts of service. He's attentive to your needs and desires, always willing to go the extra mile to make your life easier. Whether it's cooking your favorite meal, running errands for you, or fixing something that's broken, he finds joy in serving you.

Picture a lazy Sunday morning in your apartment. The soft sunlight filters through the curtains, casting a warm glow on the room. Madrid in his more tender persona, Casimiro, is up early, preparing breakfast for you. He moves gracefully in the kitchen, the aroma of freshly brewed coffee filling the air. The table is set with care, your favorite breakfast dishes neatly arranged. He knows how much you appreciate these small gestures of love.

As you wake up and enter the kitchen, Madrid greets you with a warm smile, a gentle "Buen día, mi amor" escaping his lips. He pulls out a chair for you, and you can't help but notice the subtle touches of physical affection as he brushes a strand of hair from your face and plants a soft kiss on your forehead. Over breakfast, you share quiet moments of physical closeness. His hand finds your thigh under the table, his thumb tracing invisible circles on your skin, a silent but endearing connection. From refilling your coffee cup to ensuring you have everything you need for the day ahead.

One thing you'd quickly notice is his adventurous spirit. He'd crave shared adventures, seeking the thrill of new experiences with you by his side. Whether it's go-kart racing on a Sunday afternoon, spontaneous road trips that lead to hidden gems, or impromptu dance sessions in unexpected places with his two left feet, every moment with him would be an adventure waiting to happen.

His gentlemanly manners would persist, with acts of chivalry that make you feel cherished. He'd open doors, pull out chairs, and ensure your comfort in every situation.

In the world of shadows and secrets, Madrid despises the spotlight, and his love for you remains concealed from the prying eyes of the public eye. His very existence was shrouded in mystery, and he had honed the art of disappearing into the shadows. For him, the thought of being in the public's gaze was unbearable, and so your relationship had to remain concealed.

Madrid's criminal pursuits keep him far from the public eye, while you, as the daughter of a prominent politician, are entangled in the web of high-profile events and political scrutiny. The revelation of your connection to a notorious criminal would unravel your family's reputation and jeopardize your own future. He leads a double life, with one persona as a criminal and another as your passionate lover. While you would want to shout his name from the rooftops and show the world how handsome Casimiro is, public exposure could blur the lines between these personas, endangering your safety.

But beneath his enigmatic exterior lies a deeply protective almost possessive nature. Madrid's commitment to your safety and well-being would be unwavering. You'd always feel secure and cared for, knowing that he'd move mountains to keep you safe.

Dating someone with Madrid's complex personality would require understanding and patience. You'd navigate the nuances of his sly and manipulative tendencies, balancing them with the genuine affection and sincerity he shows in your relationship. It would be a delicate dance, but one that would only strengthen your bond.

In the depths of your relationship, Madrid would also reveal his intimate side. Casimiro, the real name behind a glorious nickname. He'd be a great listener, always there to lend a sympathetic ear and provide unwavering support. You'd share your dreams, fears, and secrets, forging a connection that transcends words

You love him as Casimiro. However, there's another side to him which is Madrid, one that reveals itself when he gets jealous and possessive. It's a testament to his strong feelings for you, but his treatment afterwards is not of certain.

His jaw tightens, and his gaze sharpens, fixating on the conversation. His body language becomes slightly more protective, and he unconsciously steps closer to you with his arm wrapped around your lower back. His touch is both reassuring and subtly possessive, a silent declaration to the room that you're with him.

He mutters softly into your ear and pulls you close to his chest, "por favor quédate cerca de mí, bonita." (please stay close to me, pretty)

He'd be understanding all throughout the night, his patience is long but when it comes to people wanting to waltz you away from him? You'll never hear the rest of it from him. He is instantly irritated and is passively aggressive till he burns low of understanding. His replies would be snarky or sarcastic, murmuring insults under his breath.

As the night comes to an end and you head home together, Madrid's earlier jealousy and possessiveness seem to fade, replaced by the magnetic allure and charm you've come to love. But the incident serves as a reminder that, beneath it all, his passionate feelings for you run deep, and he'll do whatever it takes to ensure you remain his.

This man would offer you the two sides of himself. You love him first as Madrid and you even loved him as Casimiro more but you'd never fail to love him a whole.

⊰⊹⋯⋯⋯⋯⋯⋯⋯⋯⋯⋯⋄⋯⋯⋯⋯⋯⋯⋯⋯⋯⋯⊹⊱

Author's Note: i really enjoy making money heist AUs for carlos especially him as madrid / casimiro. going to release that fic soon and this is just a teaser for the real deal! let me know your thoughts, hit that ask box it's open for everyone! 𔘓ฅ[⁠ᓀ⁠˵⁠▾⁠˵⁠ᓂ⁠]𔘓ฅ

Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction created by the user in response to a creative writing prompt. Any resemblance to actual events, persons, or entities, whether living or deceased, is purely coincidental. The characters, events, and dialogue portrayed in this fanfiction are products of the user's imagination and are not meant to infringe upon any copyrights or trademarks associated with the Formula One sport or any real-life individuals. This fanfiction is solely intended for entertainment purposes, and the author acknowledges that the depicted scenarios are not endorsed, authorized, or supported by any official Formula One entities or the individuals mentioned.

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