#to arthur who he cheated on and he's going to have to tell him | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

surshica · 1 year

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RUMOR HAS IT..

: CL16

genre: fluff,angst? (if you squint),social media (smau) + written

warnings: translated french and korean,cussing

A/N: imma just add angst just in case i forget but if you squint maybe it’ll be there? also broken humor here i made this in the morning soo excuse any typos..not proofread btw!

synopsis: charles is in a new relationship with a runway model and fashion icon reader—all is well until a rumor comes around saying he is cheating on you with your bestie.. (fc: tingting_lai)

yourusername

liked by charles_leclerc,yourbestie,lilymhe,pierregasly and 828,927 others

yourusername yacht trips with you are always wonderful <3

tagged charles_leclerc

yourbestie y’all are so cute it makes me wanna puke <3

alex_albon werent you there with them…

yourbestie yeah but that doesn’t mean i wasnt third wheeling half the time…

yourusername you literally invited your bf..

yourbestie he fell asleep 😒

arthur_leclerc …slanderous.

charles_leclerc everyday with you is a wonder day mon ange <3

liked by yourusername

pierregasly i think imma throw up

maxverstappen1 me too

landonorris me three

charles_leclerc go away.😐

f1wags beautiful as always!!

user5 check your dms bestie…

user3 drop the workout routine.

user2 okay BUT how does he bag someone like you. TELL ME THE SECRETS

user4 right the math isn’t mathing !

user1 he fr must of bribed her with like a castle in monaco or smthing

liked by yourusername

yourusername i wish 🫤 i kinda just got stuck babysitting him

charles_leclerc that’s not true and you know that…

view 67,223 comments

f1wags

liked by pierregasly,yourusername, and 30,743 others

f1wags was dmed a photo of what looks to be yourbestie and charles staring at eachother lovingly while yn is away! is this the case of playboy charles returning after years of being in a relationship with yn 👀😉🫣

user1 doesn’t yourbestie have a bf…

user6 yeah and it’s charles’ brother!!

user5 SOMETHING DOESNT FEEL RIGHT

user1 nah..she a brother hopper😭, yn and arthur deserve better

user8 idk where yall seeing the love like eye contact because i for-one do not see it!!

user9 RIGHT like it doesn’t make sense, it was yourbestie who introduced charles to yn so why would she want to get with him now when she had all those years ago to get with him? ppl making stuff up.

user8 it’s like you were reading my mind!

user10 it shouldn’t be our business too!

user3 PIERRE LIKED THIS?!:!he probably knows something we don’t…

user5 @pierregasly spill the beans mister; i know you know all the f1 gossip

user4 okay but why did yn like it too? does she know something too?

user2 yn liking this is definitely giving hot girl revenge arc!!

yourusername now wtf is this?

user13 SHE REPLIED. OMG SHE KNOWS.

user4 YN REVENGE ARC YESSS

user3 charles gonna regret he hurt this girls feelings

user9 we love a good villain arc!

user10 her replying is iconic

view 8,628 comments

yourbestie

liked by charles_leclerc,yourusername,lilymhe, arthur_leclerc,lewishamiliton and 682,167 others

yourbestie cheers to an 14 year friendship! you truly are the world to me, you are like the sister i’ve always wanted. i cherish every memory with you, i am greatful for everything you do for me! i can’t wait to see what the future leads us too~ 너무 사랑해요!! i love you so much

yourusername YOURE SO ADORABLE. :( i wish you weren’t busy so we could hang out today, 나는 당신을 더 사랑 !!! i love you more

yourbestie I KNOW IM SORRY something came up last minute but i promise to make it up to you in a girls day<3

yourusername yeah you better.

yourbestie anything for you!

yourusername @charles_leclerc take notes!

charles_leclerc you two are literally just flirting with eachother in the comments…what more do you want me to do:(

arthur_leclerc feel my pain

user3 aint no way she posted this while quiet literally fcking her bff’s bf behind her back..

user7 THIS IS SO CUTE IM SOBBING

user12 not until you find out she flirting with charles.

user9 can y’all take these negative ass comments somewhere else and just enjoy the fact ITS AN 14 YR FRIENDSHIP.

liked by yourbestie,arthur_leclerc,charles_leclerc

user13 i want what they have.

user4 brother hopper!!!😂

view 32,296 comments

yourusername just posted a story

f1wags

liked by arthur_leclerc,yourusername and 29,628 others

f1wags charles leclerc and your bestie spotted roaming around monaco ‼️ charles and your bestie were reported to go on a shopping spree and they looked very happy and giggly. reportedly they came out of cartier with two bags, both were holding a bag. maybe this a sign that these two are actually together 👀🔥

user1 no fcking way..

user3 ON THE FRIEND-VERSARY ??

user6 didn’t she tell yn she was busy..

user13 busy fcking charles..thats for sure

user5 this is more disgusting than i thought

user9 imma give them the benefit of the doubt maybe we weren’t supposed to see these photos!!

user10 we should fr respect their privacy, idc if he is cheating on her or not this is fr creepy.

user7 okay but coming out of Cartier with bags?! now i’m even more suspicious..

user11 i feel so bad for yn and arthur, the fact they liked this too. they need to find better bf and gf fr😭

yourusername 진심이야, 이거 진짜야? 🫠 seriously, is this real?

arthur_leclerc lets not get ahead of ourselves, you guys don’t know what’s going on..

user6 arthur you know what is going on between these two? and what they are doing together?

arthur_leclerc yeah, i know the plans but i don’t like that you guys are jumping to conclusions like this

yourusername 🤔

view 11,278 comments

a small pout formed onto your lips, ohone in hand screen frozen on the f1wag page. a part of you wanted to be in disbelief of what you saw. charles had told you that he something important to do and bestie name had said she was busy as well. the dots were slowly connecting as if it was a game of squares.

the thought of your boyfriend of almost two and a half years cheating on you with your best friend was not a pleasing thought, scowling at the idea of it. you were sitting down on the couch knees tucked into you, your head resting on them staring down at the phone screen. dozens of thoughts flooded your brain.

is he cheating on me? how long? does arthur know he is being cheated on? are they for sure cheating on me? they’re childhood friends i don’t think he is cheating on me! bestie name doesn’t even like charles like that! am i being played? the thoughts had flooded your brain you had completely forgotten to get ready. the vibration of your phone had broken you out of your dazed state. looking at the caller id it was him. it was charles, the words in bold “lover boy<3” had popped up with a cute picture of him. pressing the accept button you put it on speaker,

yn : hello?

lover boy<3 : mon ange! are you ready?

yn : ..uh yeah im almost ready!

lover boy<3 : okay i’ll be there to pick you up in 15 minutes~

his voice sounded deeper through the phone, a small smile formed onto your lips

yn : where did you go charlie? you’ve been out for a while..

lover boy<3 : have i? désolé chérie je devais faire quelque chose d'important, sorry honey i had to do something important why? are you worried about me? how sweet

charles had a small smirk formed on his lips, he just dropped off your bestie name at her house as he called you.

yn : who said that? no i was just curious, thats all.

yn’s smile slowly formed back to a pout. he didn’t tell her but rather just said something important, it didn’t make her feel any better.

yn : (sigh)

lover boy<3 : what’s wrong mon-

yn : 꿀 honey i’ll you back i need to go to the bathroom.

you quickly ended the call ruffling your hair taking in a deep inhale before getting up to go get ready quickly.

after rummaging through your closet you found a cute brown pleated skirt, to match with it you grabbed a white tank top and black and white cardigan with a black beret. looking at the mirror you smiled at the outfit heading to the bathroom to do some quick makeup. nothing too fancy

charles furrowed his brows at the erupted ending of the call. he didn’t think much of it shrugging it off. maybe you were just tired was a thought he had, not once did he think you found out he was with your bestie name.

you had just finished in time, charles texted you that he was outside. grabbing a small purse putting your wallet and phone in there pranced your way to the front putting on a pair of brown boots you had just bought. the walk to the car felt dreadful. the more you stepped closer more thoughts flew over your head, you were starting to convince yourself that maybe he was cheating on you with her.

you needed to shake the idea out of your head and you had to do it now, your hand was on the car door handle but you hesitated. charles noticed your hesitation, his brows furrowed some more as he leaned over to the other seat opening the door for you. “mon angé are you alright?” he watched you climb into the seat buckling up. one thing about charles, he is a person who is very expressive from the body language to the faces to the voice itself. yn looked at him placing a small peck on his cheek, “yeah im just a little tired that’s all”

charles stared you down he was trying to see if you were lying or not, “well tu sais tu peux toujours me dire n'importe quoi mon ange, si ça te dérange tellement dis le moi. you know you can always tell me anything my angel, if it bothers you so much tell me.” he tucked a piece of your hair behind your exposing your cheek that got what felt like a genuine kiss. the ride to wherever you were going was suffocating, both of you hated it. you cleared your thought brushing your hand against his free hand. “so mister charles where was this important place you went to today?” you wanted answers so you kept pushing for him to tell the truth.

charles quickly looked and you before looking back at the road, “if i tell you where i was and what i was doing it wouldn’t be a secret mon ange!” he was being very smiley, your lips formed an o shape. “why do you wanna know? are you trying to stalk me?” charles snickered his shoulders slowly bouncing up and down. you shook your head clearing your throat, “i don’t need to do that i already have someone for that..” your tone was bitterly.

you were staring out the window, you didn’t want to bare the sight of him. what if questions flew everywhere you got more upset with yourself you didn’t want them, charles noticed the shift in attitude; “mon ange seriously tell me what’s wrong,” concern laced his voice as he grabbed your hand placing mini kisses on them “, i don’t like seeing you upset. i can any questions you have just talk to me..”

a sigh escaped your lips looking at the pouty monegasque, “why were you with bestie name today? she said she was busy and you said you had an important thing to do today. are the two of you you kn—” your throat throbbed as each word managed to escape your throat, “what?” was all charles could reply with, he quickly parked the car before facing yn.

“rumor has it you were with bestie name today at a mall together..there of pictures of the two of you together charlie” his grip on your hands tightened as each word flowed out of your mouth. “chérie im not cheating on you with bestie name, i would never.” his heart broke seeing you think of all that, “okay but what was important that the two of you had to go to the mall together?” you just wanted to few reassurance.

“well..fuck i cant say it but its a surpise. you weren’t supposed to see those photos seriously, im not cheating on you when i went to the mall with her earlier. we went to go get some gifts for arthur you can even ask him mon amor!” he watched as her shoulders that were tensed up became relaxed. “oh. i’m sorry that i jumped to conclusions so fast it wa—”

charles chuckled letting go of her hand, “it’s okay mon ange. its those stupid fan accounts fault for making you think that.” he said getting out of the car to go open the door for you.

he had taken you to a nice small cafe, it wasn’t very popular but it was one of your favorites. the honey outside atmosphere was definitely to die for, the way green plants coated everywhere. the two of you sat at what was a four person table. pointing at the two empty seats charles just smiled, “two people will be joining us but they’re running a little late..”

“i didnt get to say this but you look beautiful my love” charles who grabbed your hand the table fiddling with it. “am i never beautiful to you?” you scoffed playfully—charles was taken aback from that comment “no no you’re always beautiful you just look extra beautiful!” charles justified or well he believed. “so you don’t think i’m extra beautiful whenever?” you pouted playfully. charles who was lost for words “no you are just so—you know what i mean mon amour!!” he sighed frustratedly causing you to giggle at his frustration.

“you’re so mean mon chérie~” he scrunched up his face to make it look like he was upset, “i’m not mean you are just easy to pick at!” you justified, “mean.” “no” “mean” “no” “charlie we sound like children..” “well you started it” he smirked making you roll your eyes at him. a comfortable silence fell between the two, you started to believe the other two were just not going to come at all.

“you have pretty eyes charlie” you blurted out without a care, a blush crept onto his face. he didn’t know if it was the compliment or if it was the fact you were staring at him as if he was the only thing that mattered in the world, maybe it was both. “you think so chérie?” he felt the grip of his hand that had been interlocked with yours tighten. “i don’t think so i know so” she had such loving stares it made charles weak to his knees. the stares she gives him make his heart flutter like a teenage boy seeing his school crush, he was always lost for words, he was little butter melting in your touch and stares.

the truth is, he was upset with himself finding out that you had these thoughts, these thoughts that he was cheating on you with your best friend. he wanted to get you a gift and he didn’t want to fuck it up; he believed bringing someone who you held dear to your heart and who knew you best would’ve been the right choice—he didn’t think once you would take it as him cheating on you with her bestie. it hurt him inside.

he had always wanted to show you how appreciative he was of you, he never had the time but now he does. you do so much for him and he wants to thank you for that, the states you give him; they were loving and warmly. the way you love him throughout his career taking time to visit his races it did something to him. from how you looked at him, touched him, smiled and laughed at his jokes, how you talk about him so much to family, how you make playlist about him, and even made sure he felt like he was the priority in everything—it did something for him. since the first day he met you he knew you were the one for him.

the way you made sure you’re there for him after the races and that you were okay made his heart skip beats. he had always felt like the knight in shining armor in previous relationships but with you he felt like the princess and you were the knight. he loved everything about that; it was something new to him something he never would’ve thought he would love. the small cartier box warmed in his pockets. you are always doing stuff for him he just wants to do one simple thing for you, is that too much for him to ask for? he knew he had to wait for arthur and bestie name to get here but he seriously couldn’t.

he thought any longer he waited he would spill the beans about everything, “chérie you know how much i love you right?” his lips parted as his hand slowly made his way to his pocket grabbing the small cartier box. “always know, you tell me like every hour even on the race track” you had teased a smile evident on your lips. “tu sais à quel point je t'aime mais sais-tu à quel point je t'aime ? Je te chéris tellement, j'aime tout ce que tu fais pour moi, j'aime la façon dont tu es toujours là pour moi, peu importe à quel point je fais mal sur la piste de course ou je suis contrarié. tu fais tellement pour moi, c'est vraiment comme un cadeau! you know how much i love you but do you know how much i love you? I cherish you so much, I love everything you do for me, I love how you are always there for me no matter how badly I do on the racetrack or how upset I am. you do so much for me, it's really like a gift.”

“tu es un cadeau que je dois protéger de tout ce qui arrive, je n'ai jamais été doué avec les mots mais chaque fois que tu es avec moi, je fond. tu as sur moi cet effet que je n'avais jamais ressenti auparavant dans les relations que j'avais. you are a gift that i have to protect from everything that happens, i have never been good with words but every time you are with me i melt. you have this effect on me that i have never felt before in the relationships i had.” charles titled his head to the side closing his eyes taking a deep breathe, “charlie what’s this about?” you had questioned sitting up properly instead of slouching. “just promise me something mon amour. promise me that you will be with me no matter how hard times are.” charles slowly pulled out the red velvet textured box from his pocket.

it was a small rectangular box with gold like lettering saying “cartier”. charles had placed it into your hands, “you do so much for me so the least i could do is buy a promise ring.” his voice turned soft, it was silky soft. the box on the other hand was in your grasp you were staring at it, a prominent smile rushed to your face, “charlie..” you had opened the box to see a singular gold band with jewels graves into it, “its a promise ring, a promise that i will love you endlessly.” charles held up his hand showing how he was already wearing his.

“its beautiful…charlie. i love it” you took the ring out of the box putting it on a one your right index finger, “and i promise to love you endlessly.” a blush creeped onto your cheeks, “thank you 아기. 사랑해요 baby. i love you” charles wasnt fluent i.n korean that’s for sure but he knows how to say he loves you, “i love you too mon ange.” he grabbed your hand with the ring on it placing a soft kiss, smiling to himself.

“CHARLES I TOLD YOU WAIT TILL WE GOT HERE.” you heard your bestie name’s voice boom near you, it startled you but it made you giggle. “well you two were taking too long and i got impatient…hurry up next time” he scoffed, your bestie name didn’t let that slide and she started to punch him lightly. “i hope you didn’t fuck it up. be glad i went with you to get the proper ring size!” your bestie grabbed his ear and the two started to fight.

it truly did feel like home with them, “i’m guessing he gave you the ring?” arthur said standing behind you with his hands in his pockets, “you knew?” yn looked at him your lips forming an a line. “of course i knew thats why i tried to defend them but it was no use at that point, people jump to conclusions too much” he shortened a chuckle. “yeah you’re right they do.”

charles_leclerc

liked by yourusername,yourbestie,lewishamiliton, alex_albon,pierregasly,maxverstappen1 and 1,827,289 others

charles_leclerc its always rumor charles is cheating on his gf but never rumor has it that charles is still and forever madly in love with his girlfriend of two years.

user8 SEE YALL WERE WRONG ADMIT IT.

liked by charles_leclerc

user9 they’ll forever be happily in love yall are just haters!!

liked by charles_leclerc and yourbestie

user10 my cuties ㅠㅠ

user15 charles yn defender till i die.

user4 SO CUTE OMG

user1 is that a promise ring?? that’s so..i’m melting

yourusername 나는 내 아름다운 소년을 너무 사랑 !! <3 i love my beautiful boy so much

maxverstappen1 soo i dont get to yell at him for cheating on you?:(

yourusername LMAOO NO

charles_leclerc HUH WHATD I MISS MAXIE?

maxverstappen1 🤷‍♂️🤷‍♂️

user13 get me someone who looks at me the way charles looks at yn.

liked by yourusername

pierregasly listen if charles was gonna fumble this one i would whole heartily become a homie hopper‼️

lewishamiliton agreed

charles_leclerc i know where the both of you live…

lilymhe stop i was ready to fight him after what i saw. the two of you are so cute !

charles_leclerc WHY IS EVERYONE TRYING TO FIGHT ME OR STEAL MY GF??

yourbestie okay where is my thank you? i helped you 😒

charles_leclerc do you not see these comments??

yourbestie i agree tho if you fumbled her i would’ve ended you🤷‍♀️

landonorris we need you on the grid more

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yourusername

liked by yourbestie,danielricardo,charles_leclerc, maxverstappen1 and 926,518 others

yourusername 기다리는 자에게 좋은 일이 생긴다<3 good things happen to those who wait<3

tagged charles_leclerc,arthur_leclerc,yourbestie

arthur_leclerc SEE THEY CAME OUT GOOD!

yourusername thank you my little photographer!!

charles_leclerc i thought i was your photographer?

yourusername you were busy fighting bestie name…

yourbestie so beautiful they grow up so fast ㅠㅠ

charles_leclerc the loml truly is beautiful ❤️

liked by yourusername

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@ surshica | rb & follow.

#- surshica ♥︎#IMAGINES 💌 ୧ ˚₊#🎐 ։ ONESHOTS · ᘞ #charles leclerc fic #charles leclerc #charles leclerc imagine #charles leclerc x reader #formula one #f1 instagram au #f1 x reader #f1 x you

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victimsofyaoipoll · 7 months

Text

Round 4

Gwen

She stands in the way of Merthur, by far the most popular ship in the fandom. I haven’t seen it as much in recent years, but back in the days of fanfiction.net she got slut shamed so badly for having been romantically interested in three of the male characters over the course of the show, which is just... normal straight woman behavior, meanwhile Merlin crushed on pretty much every woman who even looked at him in the early seasons of the show and got no hate for that whatsoever. I barely even read Merthur fics (not because it’s m/m, just because certain aspects of their relationship don’t appeal to me) but the “Gwen is a slut” attitude was so pervasive across the fandom, even fics that weren’t explicitly anti-Gwen would “jokingly” call her a slut. I even saw a few fics demonizing her for having an affair with Lancelot despite the fact that SHE WAS ENCHANTED when that happened, and surprise surprise, Lancelot (who was also under the influence of magic) got none of that hate, and neither did Arthur, who got enchanted to fall in love with multiple women over the course of the show.

Canonically Arthur Pendragon's love interest and an important and interesting character in the show who's completely shoved aside and ignored in favour of the medieval bbc yaoi ship. At best they put her and Morgana in Lesbian Timeout (ie make them get together and then reduce them to wingwomen at best because god forbid we focus on the medieval bbc yuri). Justice for Gwen right now!

She is prince Arthur's love interest (eventually wife). Arthur is MADLY in love with her. He tells his tyrannical father he would give up his crown to be with her (she's a servant in the series). He forgives her cheating on him with Lancelot (!), which in the show is caused by an evil enchantment, but the characters never find out about it. He chooses her time and time again. His love for Gwen is literally never put into question. Many fans insist to this day that there was no chemistry between Gwen and Arthur compared to Arthur and Merlin. Arthur isn’t even particularly nice to Merlin most of the time! The funny thing is that Merlin himself ships these two so hard and does everything he can to help them get together!! Gwen & Arthur are adorable and too many fans were drunk on the yaoi fumes to see it. ARTHUR WAS A SIMP FOR GWEN

Every Supernatural Woman

Supernatural is so mean to women and committed to queerbaiting but it still gives Sam and Dean lovers to kill. The writers kill and villainize them and the fans get the few that remain

wincest and destiel shippers cannot handle the idea of their blorbos having a Woman THREATENING their SHIPS god FORBID

It literally used to be a running joke that if a female character got introduced you knew she was going to die soon because fans would react so negatively to her "stealing" one of the boys away from the big ship, whether it be destiel or wincest

#round 4 #poll #bbc gwen #gwen merlin #bbc merlin #supernatural

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yespleasetommyshelby · 3 months

Text

Before he cheats - Modern Tommy Shelby x reader

I've had this song stuck in my head for days and it's gotta go 😩 This literally took me all of 2 hours to plan/write/post and it hasn't been proofread so bare with!

Enjoy! 🥰

---------

"56, 57, 58, 59, 60, that's it, I'm done." I huffed as i threw my phone onto the sofa besides me, frown on my face as I sighed. "That's two fucking hours!" I muttered to myself stamping my feet into my trainers I threw my coat on before picking up my phone on some final hope that I'd actually had a reply, but low and behold, obviously not.

"Fucking Thomas Shelby always thinking with his mother fucking dick." I continued to mutter under my breath as I left my home on Watery Lane slamming the door behind me, my chest burning in anger. Stepping out onto the path I shoved my hands into my coat pockets, fists clenched as I headed the short distance down the road to the house where I'd practically grown up.

"Watch where you're fucking going!" I screeched as a teenager flew past on his bike almost knocking me into the road. "Fucking males and their fucking shit." I continued to slate each and every male that came into view in the 2 minutes it took to get to my destination, 'men are all the bloody same' my mum used to say, 'honestly, get yourself a women, their much easier.' Looking back maybe I should've taken her advice.

"Where is he?" I asked as I pushed open the doors to the betting shop that sat in Watery Lane, the punters and staff going silent as I watched with my hands on my hips. "Oh come on, you know exactly who I'm talking about!" I all but yelled into the silent room, after being with Tommy for 2 years now I had almost as much authority as him, almost.

"Y/n, not here." Polly's voice had my head on a swivel, finally spotting her in the doorway to John's office I stormed over ignoring the looks I was getting from everyone.

"Where is he Pol?" I sighed as I flopped down into Johns office chair. "And why are you in here?" I asked noticing that John wasn't in his own office.

"He's disappeared with Esme somewhere, honestly these Shelby boys and their dicks are ridiculous." She mumbled, lighting the cigarette she held in her hand.

"Tell me about it." I sighed, knowing that if Tommy wasn't in the office he was only going to be in one other place. "He's at the Garrison then." I asked, watching as she froze slightly before shaking her head.

"I think so, yeah, what's he done this time?" She sighed as she rubbed her eyes, having dealt with nothing but pissed up (and off) men and women placing bets they can't afford all morning, dealing with her nephews love life was definitely not on her to do list.

"Nothing Pol, he's done nothing which is the fucking problem! He was supposed to meet me 2 hours ago and I haven't heard anything since a lousy morning text all because he's too busy with that fucking whore Grace!" I ranted, reaching out and taking one of her cigarettes before lighting it and slamming the lighter down on the desk. "You know what I'm done." My voice sounded much more convinced then my mind as I said the words.

Shaking my head I stood up in a flash, out of Johns office and into Tommys within a second, without looking I reached behind Tommys desk and picked up the baseball bat that I knew he kept there in case of emergency's. Pushing my way past Polly who was stood in the doorway I made my way through the punters and out into the street without a second look, the bat weighing heavy in my hand.

"Y/n! What are you doing?!" Pol's voice follows me out into the street. "Come back inside!" She yelled, passers by stopping to look at the scenes, before a sharp look from Pol had them walking on.

"Woah! What's going on here?" I was stopped in my tracks as Arthur, John and Esme appeared from the corner ahead of me, grins on their faces as they looked from the bat in my hand to the scowl on my face.

"Looks to me that she's off to play baseball." John laughed, his input met with a thud on his chest by his wife.

"Would you two idiots shut up already." She giggled slightly as she pushed her husband into his older brother. "Now what's up with the bat?" She asked, smirking slightly as she had a feeling she knew exactly where you was going, after sitting on the phone for an hour the last time Tommy pissed you off she knew not to get in the way.

"Like John boy said." I shrugged, my hold on the bat tightening ever so slightly. "I'm going to practice baseball with a nice new shiny Land Rover I saw parked outside of the Garrison." I grinned before pushing my way through the trio and continuing on my way.

I couldn't help but let out a loud laugh as the Garrison came into view and just as I had predicted there was brand new Land Rover sat outside its doors. The brand new Land Rover that only 3 days ago I had travelled up to Scotland to collect with Tommy, not knowing that it would be the last journey I'd take with both him and the car.

"Y/n come on back to the shop love, we'll sort this shit out." Polly pleaded once more making me stop in my tracks, the Shelby's had been like a family to me, even in the years before me and Tommy had officially gotten together, being friends with Ada and all.

"I'm sorry Pol." I sighed shaking my head as I turned to face her and the trio that had followed behind. "But right now, right now he's probably slow dancing with that bleach blonde tramp and she's probably getting frisky. Right now he's probably buying her some fruity little drink 'cause she can't shoot whisky." I laughed a little, knowing for a fact that she couldn't handle the drink that Thomas Shelby worships so much. "Right now he's probably up behind her with a pool stick showing her how to shoot a combo, but he don't know." I laughed as I reached into my pocket and pulled out my keys, my hand wrapping around the longest and sharpest of them all, ironically the spare key Tommy had given me for this exact car.

I could help but grin as I stuck my key through the shiny black metal of the drivers door, the small act creating some kind of pleasure, a pleasure that only increased as I walked my way down the car, the key dragging a horribly crooked line right down the side.

"Right that's enough now! Cut this shit out!" Polly yelled, her eyes flickering between her nephews burnt lover and the door which he could come through at any second. "Think about what you're doing y/n." She almost pleaded, or at least as close as I'd ever seen her.

Ignoring her I made my way round to the passengers side, the metal bat dragging across the floor being the only sound to be heard, except for the muffled giggles that the other two Shelby brothers struggled to keep back. A wave of emotion hit me as I climbed into the car, a lone tear slipping down my cheek which I quickly wiped away.

"He doesn't deserve it." I muttered to myself as I quickly wiped it away without a second thought. "Fuck him and all the whores he's had in this fucking car." I growled gripping my keys as I began to carve my name into the leather seat.

"What the fuck is going on right now?!" My head snapped up as I heard another voice, Ada having stumbled upon my little rage room experiment, shall we call it.

"Ada! Nice of you to join us, i'll tell you what's going on shall I?" I asked as I hopped down from the car swing the bat up over my shoulder as I waved over to her. "Right now, your brother, you know the one that I'm supposedly engaged to, is in there living it up with that Irish tart of a woman!" I yelled, using the bat to point towards the door, not caring how loud my voice had gotten. "Right now she's probably up singing some white trash version of Shania karaoke, right now she's probably saying 'I'm drunk' and he's thinking that he's gunna get lucky! Right now, he's probably dapping on three quids worth of that bathroom polo!" I screamed, the more thought I put into what was actually going on just inside fuelling the rage even more.

I let out a gut wrenching scream as I swung the bat into his headlight, once, twice, three times moving on to the next I swung again laughing as the glass crashed to the floor before swing it into the windscreen for good measure. Throwing the bat to the floor I put my hands on my hips and grinned as I looked at the mess that was Tommy Shelby's new car before making my way over to Arthur.

"I need your knife." Holding my hand out infront of him. "Please Arthur." I sighed knowing that he always carried one no matter where he went.

With a sigh and grin he reached into his pocket and placed the small switch blade into my hand.

"Seriously Arthur?! Why the fucking hell did you give her a knife?!" Polly yelled as she threw her arms up in frustration, knowing that if anyone was going to be killed for this it wasn't going to be her.

"She asked nicely Pol." He shrugged, loving the fact that his brother was about to have the surprise of a lifetime and all he had to do was sit and watch.

Sticking the knife into the front tyre I smirked as the hiss of air filled the air, walking round and putting a knife slash in all of the tires for good measure, I stood back with a grin laughing at the look of amusement over the 3 Shelby siblings faces, the smirk on Esme's and the fed up look Polly had been giving me for the last 10 years.

"What the fucking hell is going on?!" The man of the hour roared as he stepped out onto the street, the pub doors banging against the walls before Grace appeared behind him, eyes cast down. "Answer me!" He bellowed, the vein in his neck popping with each syllable.

"Hi Tommy, remember me?" I asked sarcastically making his eyes jump to me, his face dropping ever so slightly. "You know, the fiance that you used to have!" I stepped forwards as I spoke shoving him back slightly, knowing if it was anyone else they would have recieved a bullet to the head, but I knew he'd never lay a hand on me.

"Y/n? I thought we were meeting later?" He asked, brows furrowed in confusion as he pulled his phone out of his pocket, the numerous texts and missed calls flashing on the screen and the time that read two and a half hours after the planned meeting time. "Oh." He muttered, wiping his hand across his face. "What have you done?" He asked as his eyes trailed along the nice long line that now travels the length of his new car.

"Yeah, oh." I nodded, laughing slightly as Grace stepped out besides him. "I suppose you missed the show while you were in there with ol' Gracie here. But I'll give you a rundown shall I? Well I dug my key into the side of your pretty little souped up four wheel drive, carved my name into your leather seats. I took a Louisville slugger to both headlights and slashed a hole in all four tires, maybe next time you'll think before you cheat." I couldn't help the tears that fell next, the adrenaline slowing and my whole body began to ache, the end of an era, me and the Shelby's.

"Y/n-" "No." I cut him off, not wanting to listen to any kind of reasoning he would throw at me, anything to get him back in the good book. "I might've saved a little trouble for the next girl, because the next time that you cheat, oh you know it won't be on me, no, not on me." I wiped my eyes before pulling of the ring that he had given me 6 months ago. "Guess I'll give it to you aye, Gracie." I muttered, throwing the ring at her feet before turning to walk away.

"Y/n!" His voice reached my ears just as I'd passed Polly, Arthur, John, Esme and Ada. "Y/n please!"

"Bye Tom!" I yelled without turning back, keeping my head up I shoved my hands into my pockets and carried on, not giving them the chance to see the tears that were currently streaming down my face.

-----

There you have it! My first fic where they don't end up happily ever after, hopefully you enjoyed!

Feel free to send any requests! 💖

#tommy shelby x reader #thomas shelby imagines #tommy shelby imagines #tommy shelby imagine #thomas shelby imagine #peaky blinders imagine #peaky blinders imagines

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lecl3rcw · 11 months

Text

Recipe for disaster

Pairings: Charles Leclerc x sister!reader, Arthur Leclerc x sister!reader

Warnings: Curse words, sibling insults.

Summary: Baking a cake with Leclerc 2, 3, & 4.

Authors note: I’ve seen so many siblings/friends on tiktok try this trend so this is my take on this trend but with our fav siblings.

————————————————————————

“Ughh change the dang channel Arthur” The girl groaned finally having enough of her older brother hogging the TV, “Get outta my face” he replies rolling his eyes pushing her away.

“You are so selfish! You’ve been hogging the TV since Enzo left, which was 4 hours ago” she says snatching the remote away from him which resulted in the boy getting up and trying to snatch it back. “Give it back Y/N!” He says reaching out to get it. She leans back her hand away from his, only for the remote to be grabbed by someone else.

“Gosh you two are unbearable” Charles says rolling his eyes shutting the TV off. The two younger ones looked at him in disgust, “Ugh I hate when Charles actually starts acting like an Older sibling” Y/N says, “I know right? It dosent suit him at all” Arthur says, the two teaming up against Charles all of of a sudden.

“Excuse me? You should be greatful I’m doing this, your brains are rotting and frankly I can’t stand hearing you argue one more time, so we’re gonna do something, as a family, that dosent involve the TV” he says, “Fine, what would you like to do Charles” The Girl says taking a seat on the couch, Arthur took a seat next to her. The two looked at each other in annoyance before moving away from each other.

“Well, we should try baking a cake” Charles says enthusiastically, “a cake? Charles no offense but you guys do not know how to bake” the girl says snickering only to recieve a smack on the back of her head. “Arthur, I’m gonna kill you” she says before lunging on him, “alright that’s enough, Arthur go sit on the chair” Charles says, “This isn’t over” he says squinting his eyes at the girl to which she reciprocated by sticking her tongue out.

“Anyways, we’re gonna bake a cake but one of us will be blinded, one of us will be deaf, and one of us will be mute” Charles said. “Respectfully, no Thankyou” Arthur says, “What why?” He asks him.

“I can’t stand Y/N when she’s fully capable of doing things, I don’t have that type of patience” he says getting up to walk to his room, Y/N scoffed “Bitch” she whispered under her breath, “Tur… I didn’t want to resort to this but if you don’t do this, I’m gonna tell Maman that you’re the one who broke her vase” Charles says, He gasps, “You wouldn’t” He says, “He might not, but for sure will” The Girl says giving him an evil smile, “Ugh fine” He says succumbing to the request against his own will.

While Arthur and Charles went to the store to get the stuff for the cake, Y/N took out all the utensils, bowls, and other stuff, she even made 3 chits to make it even on who gets to be what. About 30 minutes later, the brothers return and Y/N has changed into an old T-shirt that she doesn’t really care about. Alas, the siblings were ready to pick their chits and get started on the cake.

“Y/N you should pick last” Arthur says, “Don’t we all pick at the same time?” Charles asks, “She could have sabotaged it to get the one she wants” he says eyeing her suspiciously, “Arthur has anyone ever told you how annoying you are?” She says shaking the bowl with chits, “No, because I’m not” He replies, she rolls her eyes before letting the boys before her pick their chits.

“We open it at the same time ok?” Charles says, When Y/N grabs hers, the three open it at the same time. “Hah! I get to listen to music while I do this” The Girl says happy she got the loud music option, “I cant talk” Charles says groaning, “You think that’s bad? I have to blindfolded! She cheated I demand a redo” Arthur says putting his paper back in the bowl, “It’s not my fault you’re such a sore loser” she says, “Guys it’s fine, let’s just get started on this cake” Charles says officially being done with his younger siblings.

Little did Charles know that baking this cake was the worst decision he could have ever made in his life. With Arthur not being able to see, Y/N not being able to hear, and him not being able to speak, this was for sure gonna be a distaster.

As Arthur grabbed the eggs, well as he attempted to grab it he struggled considering he couldn’t see, “Can someone give me the egg” He asked, “WHAT?” Y/N screamed not being able to hear anything, “Damn stop yelling” He says, Charles visibility rolling his eyes, that didn’t go unnoticed by the youngest Leclerc, “Can someone please Hand me the egg already” Arthur said. Charles handed the egg, Only for Arthur to completely miss the bowl, “Oh you dumbass” Y/N said slapping her hand on her forehead, “What? What happened” Arthur questioned, Charles pushed him out of the way.

“TUR YOU GOTTA STAY AWAY FROM HERE” The Girl says before grabbing a paper towel and cleaning the dropped egg. Little by little the siblings worked their way into making a heart shaped, vanilla flavored cake.

“Now this is the hard part, the decorating” the girl sighed, “hand me the icing” Arthur said, “ARTHUR SPEAK UP” she says, “I SAID HAND ME THE ICING” he says, matching her volume. “OHHH” as she was about to Charles stopped her, shaking his head no, she put the icing back down.

“Hello? Charles? Y/N?” He asks, “WE GOTTA WAIT FOR THE CAKE TO COOL DOWN” Y/N says, the siblings waited and waited, with a lot of ups and downs (Arthur making a mess, Y/N screaming and Charles being a victim) the siblings were finally done. They took of their headphones, blindfold, and cloth off. “Finally lord” Charles says, “This was your idea, and it was the dumbest idea ever” Arthur says rolling his eyes, “It was actually fun, I wish Enzo could be here too, I rarely get to see you guys nowadays” the girl says her mouth spilling all of her heart’s secrets.

“Aw Chérie” Charles says pulling the girl into a hug, Arthur joins in which suprised her a little, “I love all you guys so much” she says, “we love you too” they says unanimously. The 3 were so caught up in their moment they didn’t notice the oldest Leclerc sibling come enter the house and kitchen.

“What the hell is that supposed to be?” Enzo questioned.

“A cake? I learned it from culinary club at school”

“We need to get a refund for those classes”

#charles leclerc x reader #arthur leclerc x reader #Charles Leclerc x sister!reader #arthur leclerc #charles leclerc #f1 imagine #f1 x reader #f1 fanfic

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piggyinthesea · 5 months

Text

The Night After Monaco

part 2 of this fic

pairing: charles leclerc x reader, max verstappen x reader

word count: idk prolly more than 2k

warnings: shouting, smut, messy charles, stress, anxiety, fluff, kind of sugar daddy charles, max being desperate, gaslighting

summary: charles teaches you things you didn’t know about yourself he shows you what it means to truly be taken care of. but, does this mean things are really done with max?

Son las cinco 'e la mañana y yo no he dormido nada

It’s 5 in the morning and I haven’t slept at all

Pensando en tu belleza, en loco voy a parar

Thinking of your beauty, going to end up crazy

El insomnio es mi castigo, tu amor será mi alivio

Insomnia is my punishment, your love is my relief

Y hasta que no seas mía no viviré en paz

And until your mine, I won’t live in peace

There’s always someone watching. Every time you do something there’s always someone or something watching. You realized that when you found a post on Instagram about the other night.

f1exlusiveupdates

f1exlusiveupdates: Charles Leclerc, ferrari driver, spotted leaving an exclusive club with company shortly after his Monaco Gp win. No images including the female’s face.

↳ user233 just a hook up, not a big deal.

↳ charlesismybf it’s me guys, I’m the female☺️

↳ formula1luver baby come home the kids miss you

327 comments 15,000 likes

Charles had sent the article to you that had been posted that same evening with a message asking to talk. It shouldn’t have bothered you the way it did but, you became extremely anxious to hear what he had to say.

The moment Charles’s had woken up he was met with a text from his brother, Arthur. Arthur had sent the article with an abundance of questions of who, what, when, why. After Arthur persisted, Charles had told him everything.

He explained your situation, the ‘break’, and he even threw in the hickey on Max’s neck to ease it all. Arthur had nothing to say. His moral compass was being challenged and he didn’t know whether the whole thing was right or wrong.

1. It was Max’s idea to take the break.

2. The relationship was already running its course (Due to mainly Max’s fault).

3. Max cheated on you too.

He explained to Charles that it wasn’t right to take his chance with you right after taking a break knowing you were vulnerable and just needed a friend, however, technically speaking he did nothing wrong. Charles definitely needed to talk to you and figure out what exactly was going on and what the both of you intended to do. He had an entire speech prepared. He wanted to ask you if you’d consider pursing a relationship with him. He understood that it’ll definitely cause a scandal and he planned to assure you he could take it as slow as you wanted to. He wanted to tell you he didn’t see you as just ‘a hook up’. He wanted a deep and meaningful relationship with you, if you’d let him attain one.

However, his speech was forgotten and completely eradicated from his brain when he saw you. You wore a simple outfit. A graphic t-shirt with jeans. Yet, you still knocked the breath out of him.

For a moment he didn’t know what to say. “Hey.”

You awkwardly smile. Your anxiety was booming and him looking so gorgeous did not help you. You had already mentally prepared yourself for rejection.

“Hi.”

You let him in and the both of you begin walking towards the couch in the living room. Awkward silent moments pass. Still, no one had said anything and the both of you stayed staring at each other.

“H-“

“Y-”

You cut each other off.

“You go first.”

“No, sorry you go first.” He says with his cheeks burning up.

“I understand if the other night was just something casual to you. And I’m sorry about the article.” You ramble. You didn’t mean to cause a scandal and make things messy for him. You hoped he didn’t hold anything against you.

“It wasn’t casual! Sorry. Sharing that night with you was so amazing. I want more of that. I know it’ll be extremely hard for you but, if you’d have me, I’d enjoy a serious relationship with you.” He quickly states, mentally cussing himself out for acting a fool.

His words take a few moments to process. You hadn’t considered the possibility that he’d want a relationship with you. Maybe it was because you had low-self worth but being in a public relationship with Charles scared you. His fan base was crazy.

The internet would have a field day if they had ever found out you have a relationship with Charles. They’d call you out kinds of names. Slut, whore, homie-hopper. You could see it clearly. “I don’t know if having a relationship would be the best idea. I don’t even know if I still have one. And besides the internet-”

“Forget about the internet. Do you want me?”

You answered within a flash, “Yes.”

“We shouldn’t let it the internet rule our lives. They won’t understand, but at least we’ll have each other.” He reaches towards your hands and holds them together, “Ma belle, I promise we can take it as slow as you need to.”

His eyes silently pleaded at you. He looked at you with his big brown eyes and long eyelashes. He was irresistible and oh-so-pretty. He acted as if he expected you to say no. How could you though? When he looked at you with longing and passion the way he was doing right now…it’d be hard to ever say no.

“Okay. But first I need to talk to Max. We never officially broke up.”

“Of course.” Before leaving, he pulls you in and leans forward. His lips feel soft against yours. A simple act of affection is so tempting and before the kiss is deepened, he pulls away and leaves your flat.

You knew what you had to do now. You dreaded every second of it but you texted Max.

vroom vroom

come over, we need to talk.

I’ll be there in a couple minutes

read 2:03 pm

It didn’t take long for the door to your pad ring. Each step you took as you walked closer and closer made you feel extremely uneasy. The door knob felt sticky against your sweaty hands.

Max stood in front of you with a bouquet of flowers. Without asking, he let himself in (a perfect reminder that he’s been here plenty of times before and this might as well been his second home).

“These are for you. I decided to forgive you and move on. Look, we can just forget this ever happened.” He handed the bouquet of flowers to you. You stood confused, yet you quickly became agitated the moment his words process.

“You forgive me?” You questioned, daring him to elaborate.

“Are you serious right now- look, I didn’t come here to fight. Baby, I don’t want our relationship to end. Don’t end this because of one mistake you did.” He says in a condescending tone.

The nerve of him. There’s no possible way he believes he’s still in the right. For fucks sake, he still has a hickey from another woman on his neck yet he’s coming to you as if you were the one in the wrong.

“My mistake? Max you have a fucking hickey from another woman on your neck. You don’t think this has anything to do with you?”

At this point, you were seriously debating throwing his shit-bouquet at him. He remained speechless, standing like a dumb ass waiting for another word to come out of your mouth. “You know what just leave. We’re done .” You angrily push him out and (gladly) shut the door.

You let out a huge sigh and ran both hands through your hair, frustrated as ever.

y/ninstagramuser has unfollowed maxverstappen1

y/ninstagramuser has followed charles_leclerc

charles_leclerc has followed y/ninstagramuser

It was only half an hour you’ve unfollowed Max until you heard a notification from Charles. It was a link…to yet again another gossip article. You physically groaned and mentally prepared yourself to get bashed.

formulaonebestgossip

formulaonebestgossip: Has the beloved grid couple broke up? Evidence to back this claim up consists of the fact that Y/n had just recently unfollowed Max. No posts from either party has been released confirmed this.

↳ user288 highly doubt this lol

↳ redbulll24 prolly was an accident since he still follows her🤷‍♀️

↳ user444 wait, does anybody know if Y/n followed Charles before this? I just checked and they’re both following each other 🌚

replying to user444 I think so? I’m not sure tbh but it doesn’t make sense why she would follow him after all this time

replying to user444 she definitely didn’t, I remember cause I used to stalk her followers all the time

8,600 comments 20.6k likes

3 familiar bubble dots popped up on your chat with Charles. After what seemed like a minute or so, they disappeared. Then, they came back.

charles🫠

did you break up with him?

yeah, he says he still wants to work things out though.

…do you want to?

Nope.

Good.

I want to take you out.

what if someone sees us?

If that’s something you’re worried about, I can work around that. I told you, the other night wasn’t just causal.

Okay then. I’d love to go out with you☺️

I’ll send you the details ❤️

seen 12:04 pm

Suddenly, you were in high school all over again having a schoolgirl crush. It didn’t take long for Charles to let you know the time he would pick you up tomorrow. You were excited and weirdly intrigued. What type of date could either of you go on where the public wouldn’t see you?

max v.

why’d you unfollow me?

because we’re not dating anymore ??

we’re not done. I’ll have you again, for sure. 😴

what the hell weirdo. don’t make me block you.

seen 12:26 pm

Without thinking of how Charles would feel, you took a screenshot and sent it to him. Within seconds, Charles replied.

Charles🫠

I’ll make you forget him tomorrow, don’t worry sweetheart.

oh yeah? how so?

First, I’d fuck you dumb on my private jet we’re taking tomorrow. No one else would be around, so it’d be just the two of us. Then, we’ll look through online lingerie shops together while you’re sitting on my lap as I picture you wearing them. I’ll make sure you always have something pretty. Maybe I’ll even get you some nice Versace heels for funsies. By the end of the day, you’ll probably memorize my bank digits. Not that I mind, as long as I get to see you wear the stuff you’ve bought.

are you alone?

why, are you touching yourself?

can you answer my question first?

Yes, im alone. Now you answer mine.

Of course I am. I feel like you say the right words to get me going on purpose.

No, it wasn’t on purpose. How was I supposed to know you were that needy?

I’m sorry

Don’t be sorry, I love when your needy for me baby. Tell me how your touching yourself.

I have my fingers in my shorts. They don’t feel as good as you though. My body misses you.

I bet it does. Don’t worry though, I’ll see you tomorrow princess. Can you insert a finger into yourself?

I did it. I wish it was you instead :(

Don’t be sad, ma belle. Just keep touching yourself.

I’m close Charles. I wish you were here.

keep touching yourself sweetie.

I didn’t come. Max texted me.

Can you block him for me, cheríe? With the cherry on top.

Of course, anything for you.

Thank you 💗. I have to go but I’ll talk to you soon.

liked message

You felt as if you’d been robbed from you high. The pleasure you’ve felt until the moment Max texted you was something you’ve never experienced by just merely looking at words on a screen.

Max was still ‘asking’ to start over. Yet, it was something about the way he said it that proved he still truly didn’t think he did nothing wrong. He pointed the faults at you and hasn’t realized his own mistakes in the process. This had got you second guessing. What if you really were the one in the wrong? You quickly shook the thought away and scrolled through Instagram.

Nothing interesting had happened today and so you took a small walk around your neighborhood before returning back, sweaty and tired. When you arrived to your door, a large bouquet of flowers sat in the door step. It didn’t take much to figure out they were from Max. You like being gifted things. Receiving gifts was your gift language, something you’ve told Max plenty of times, yet only now he’s doing the gifting. You ponder for a moment. Maybe it was because of how pretty the flowers were that you began to second guess yourself. You looked at the pink wrapping and the white roses decorated with golden butterflies and fairy lights. You wondered if you’d been to hard on Max.

You tossed the flowers onto your couch, not caring about the fragility of them. The rest of the day had been spent with updates from Charles, who had been attending formula 1 meetings all day long. Once night came, you texted your good nights to each other and went to bed.

It didn’t take long for the sun to rise and finches to start singing. The color of the sky had been a beautiful light blue color with cotton candy shaped clouds. You got up and splashed water on your face and rubbed your inner eye boogers away. The time read 11:49 am as you checked your phone. No new notifications other than Charles good morning text had been sent to you, sadly. It’s your own fault for having no social life.

Since Charles was meant to pick you up at 1:30, you had a decent amount of time to get ready. You picked a white summer dress with spaghetti straps and floral prints. It reached towards your mid thigh, enough to be slightly scandalous yet still long enough to remain a proper dress for any occasion. For jewelry, you opted to a small pearl necklace and shiny small earrings. The shoes you were white platform 3 inch heels with a cute lace ankle buckle strap. After putting on light make up, it was 10 minutes until 1:30 and someone knocked on your door.

You fully expected it to be Charles, until it wasn’t. Max was standing in front of your door once again with a plain light blue button up and navy jeans.

“Where are you going looking so pretty?” Max stares at your body with intent as leaned against the door frame. A voice behind him spoke to him,

“She’s going with me.” Charles held a luxurious looking box and he pushed himself in front of Max and passed it to you.

Inside, there was about 50 small cut roses mixed in with a couple pink roses to make a heart effect. The black box had a bow around it. The brand was in another language you couldn’t pronounced in a gold and Italian style.

“These are beautiful, Charles.” You pressed a kiss to his cheek as Max had burned holes through his back.

“Those are okay. Where are mines though?” Max desperately looked through doorframe into the apartment.

“Somewhere on the couch. Probably dead by now.” You said, locking the door behind you and holding Charles hand. “We have somewhere to be, don’t we?”

He nods in agreement as you guys begin to walk away from Max who still stood in front of your apartment.

Click📸

The ride to the airport was talks about each others childhood and teenage years. His hand rested upon your thigh as he drove with his other arm. You’d found out Charles had 2 siblings. One older and another younger. He asked questions about, where you grew up, where your family’s from, and asked questions about your job. Your mother was a well-known model in the 80’s, so with the amount of traveling, you technically grew up everywhere. Naturally, you pursued a career in modeling. People loved you. Not because of your ‘beauty’ but many say it was the way you carried yourself and how you manipulated the energy around you to feel comforting and safe. Some called you a nepo baby, but really, that’s just what they want to believe. You believed modeling was made for you. You loved the sponsered gifts from extravagant brands, the free beauty products, the party invitations, traveling, but overall it was the way you felt on the runway that won your heart. Some may argue you were a little too materialistic, but if there’s no harm in it, what’s the problem? Max was sweet, most of the time, during your relationship. Though there was this one time, he ‘jokingly’ called you a gold digger. It was one of those phrases that just stuck with you for some reason. You didn’t believe it. You rarely asked for him to buy you stuff and so you were just confused, not offended. Besides, you had your own money. If there wasn’t a man to spoil yourself, you’d do it yourself. As you arrived to the port, Charles took a different entrance than the regular one. He pulled into a large lot with big green hangars in a row, each holding a different jet. There was only one jet outside the hangar. It was standard size yet smaller than the average public jet and by the looks of it ready to go on any command. Boarding the jet and taking off didn’t take long however the cocktails that you’ve both ordered did.

The attendee had finally returned with the cocktails and before drinking, you and Charles clinked your glasses. His hand rested on your thigh and you asked, “Where are we going?”

“Las Vegas. I was hoping you’d attend attend the gp there.” He said. He lightly traced circles around your thigh. You felt small shockwaves of electricity shooting towards your core. Even though he sat right next to you, you felt as if you were so far from each other.

“Don’t you think it’s too soon? The internet thinks Max and I only broke up barely a week ago.” You said, looking into his eyes while scanning his reaction.

“But…” his hand inches closer to your inner thighs, “I want to see you.” He quietly pleads into your ears as his hands travel further and further. There was an urge in your core begging him to go further, like it was thriving off his touch. His hands caress your inner thigh, squeezing them and teasingly brushing over your panties. One of his hands reach your head and pulls you in a breath taking kiss. It was deep and slow yet it was enough to get your heart beating like crazy. His other hand reached towards the inside of your dress, snapping the band of your panties against you in a teasing manner. He pulled away, grabbing your hand and lifting you from your seat towards his lap.

You sat on his lap, facing towards him while your legs were in an M position sticking out. Your heads clashed as your mouths merged together, intensifying the feeling in your crotch. His hands felt like fire as they traveled from your thighs to your waist. He ran them slowly up your waist during your kiss and then slightly pushes you further down his lap, letting you feel his hard-on. You feel your core soaking up and you find yourself wishing you were doing more than tongue kissing. Not breaking from the kiss, you grind down on him and as a result a soft groan left his mouth. “You drive me so crazy.” He whimpers, eyes never leaving you.

“I sure hope so.” You tell him, hands trailing down his chest down towards his crotch. He looks at you daringly, gasping when you cup his clothed crotch and slowly pull down the zipper to his pants. You take his member out, admiring the beauty that laid in front of you. His pink almost red tip with pre-cum sliding down looked so perfect in your hands. You slowly massage him up and down. He tilts his hand back and lets out a pornagraphic moan.

You suddenly let go of his shaft to turn around. With your back facing his face, you pulled down your panties and raised your pretty summer dress, flashing your ass for just a moment before aligning yourself to him. You sit down on him and instinctively the both of you let out noises of pleasure. You feel him slowly filling you up more and more until you finally sink down all the way. You begin to grind forward before you sharply get pushed back down.

“Stay still.” Charles warns you. “Let’s get you a new wardrobe.” You confusedly wait for Charles to pull out his laptop and place it in the movable table in front of you guys. He types in his passcode and searches up, ‘Victoria Secret’.

“Each set you get, you’re allowed to move once.” He whispers to your ear then pulled the computer closer towards you.

“But I want to move already.” You begged and whined.

“Then start shopping, baby.”

You scrolled down the page, quickly browsing to add the first thing you see into your cart. The first set was a light red pretty coquette set. The bra had beautiful lace designs with a tiny bow in the middle of your breasts.

“Wouldn’t you look so pretty in that?” He says, trapping your hips and grinding on his dick, finally creating some sort of friction for you. You were craving more movement by the second and so you glued your eyes to the screen.

The next set was a navy blue set that had a strap design around your hips. As you were about to add it to your cart Charles stops you, “You’d look absolutely beautiful in this but, I don’t like the color blue.”

You whined but continued scrolling until you found a maroon 3-piece lingerie set. It had heart shaped garters around the thighs and another connecting to your stomach with the ring of the garter stopping in the middle of your stomach, where your belly button was at. Charles had hummed in approval and moved your hips up and down with his hands stuck on your waist.

This had gone for what you thought was eternity. At the end there were 17 sets of lingerie in Charles cart which he had pay for (happily). The sets ranged from dark to light shades of red with the occasional pastel purple sets. It got to a point where you got so desperate that you outsmarted his game. You filtered the results the block all blue sets and after you started spam pressing ‘add to cart’.

After your post-orgasm bliss wore off, you had excused yourself to the restroom and roughly cleaned yourself up. You returned from the restroom and sat in your original seat next to Charles. He took your hand and entwined it with his. He rubbed circles around your hand before pressing a kiss to the top of your head. It didn’t take very much for the two of your to fall asleep, hands still entwined lovingly.

Charles had woken up groggily and let go of your hand to rub his eyes. He looked out his window seat into the dark sky and reached into his pocket for his phone. He grabbed it, only to find out it was yours. Yet something had caught his eyes. You had a message from a random number.

1+400-765-3479

Unblock me, Y/n.

He wasn’t sure who this was at first, then something in his brain clicked. He needed to be sure, though.

who’s this?

Max.

Charles had physically laughed. A little part of him wanted to show his claim on you yet there was still a rational part in him begging him not to be messy. Except, Charles is a messy person. Without a blink, he grabbed your hand and entwined it with his. He took your phone, took a picture, and sent the photo to Max. Max left him on read for the remainder of the flight.

A firm hand on your shoulder shook you awake. You learned outwards to the window and saw a bright blue sky then you looked to the right and saw Charles smiling at you.

“Morning, cheríe. We’ve landed, let’s go.” He said, gathering his carry on bag. You gathered all strength to get up and walk down the hoarding stairs. You felt a pit of hunger dwelling in your stomach and you suddenly wished you had ate before the flight.

“I have a special day for us. We’re going to this beautiful private beach and I’ve had someone set up a small picnic for us. You’ll like the beach, it’s beautiful.” He says, holding your hand down the stairs. His infamous ferrari was only a couple meters away.

“How come we didn’t come in that car on the way here?” You asked, curiously.

“Well, I had to ship it out here so I sent it out earlier than when we left. That’s why.”

You let out an ‘oh’ as he opened the door to the passenger side for you. He gets in his seat, turning on the roaring engine and drives out of the port. As always, his hand rests on your thigh rubbing circles into your skin. A sudden realization hits you.

“I didn’t pack any clothes.” You say, looking at him in disbelief.

“I didn’t either. We’ll hit the mall after we get to the beach.” He says, unworried.

The drive towards the beach was fairly quick. You figured it was because the port was close to the ocean. He pulled into what looked like a cliff only to surprise you by stepping off the cliff into well hidden stairs. The stairs were narrow and so he reached backwards to guide your hand down and ensure your safety. The stairs were long and risky yet you made it down with no issues. At the bottom, there was a small booth with a worker in it, giving a small nod towards Charles. Charles continues guiding you into the sand and he leads you to a gorgeous picnic set up. There was a white blanket across the sand with pillows placed elegantly in front of a white small table.

The table was placed under the shade of a white with hints of beige umbrella. China plates were set on the table with napkins on top of them shaped in elaborate designs. There was 2 fairly large wooden basket and a glass of wine next to it.

“How did you set this up?” You asked, walking around the beautiful set up. He sat down and you mimicked his actions.

“My brother’s in the country. I paid him to do it. I thought he would’ve just did something simple but he impressed me.” He reached towards the wooden basket. “Let’s see what he chose for our lunch.”

Inside the first basket, there were endless fruits such as watermelon, grapes, cherries, dragon fruit, and pineapple. Two silver sporks were set in the side of the basket along with extra sets of napkins. In the other basket there was plenty ingredients for a do-your-own sub. Two butter knives were also included. One to spread the mayo and another to cut the 2 medium sized baguettes.

The two of you began making your own, adding the right ingredients to satisfy your taste buds. You munched on your subway sandwiches until they finished, then the two of you fixed yourselves a plate of fruits. A comfortable silence was shared between the two of you as you took in the view in front of you.

Charles had pulled out 2 wine glasses and opened the wine bottle letting out a loud ‘pop’. The red liquid poured beautifully into the glass cups. Within moments, the two of you clinked your glasses and drank the liquid. You ached to be closer to Charles and so you moved yourself to his side. He wrapped of his arms around you and continued sipping the wine with the other.

“This is beautiful, Charles.” You murmur softly. He holds you tighter in response.

“You know I really like you?” He says, while staring off into the ocean. His eyes move to you only to find you already staring at him.

“I really like you too.”

He places a kiss on your head. “I hope one day we can walk through the entrance of the paddock holding hands in front of everyone.”

Your heart warms up. You’ve never felt happier than you do right now and you find yourself hoping that maybe, just maybe, you’ll be able to maintain this happiness forever.

#charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc #max verstappen x reader #max verstappen #f1 #formula one #charles leclerc x you #charles leclerc x female reader #girljournal #smut #sugarbaby

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wordsinhaled · 1 year

Text

okay, but has anyone written canon divergence merthur magic reveal as of "beauty and the beast part two"???

thinking about how in that episode arthur's immediate and insistent reaction to learning merlin had been ordered to be arrested was to alert him in time for him to escape and urge him to leave camelot immediately before he could be detained

arthur didn't ask if merlin had really taken lady catrina's seal. he didn't even care if merlin had taken it, and was possibly guilty of a crime against the crown. his first and only thought was for merlin to save himself

imagining the same situation, but with merlin being accused of using magic after someone catches him doing a spell. arthur coming to him and telling him to save himself, to get out while he still can because the king is arresting him on suspicion of practicing sorcery

merlin standing there frozen, because he's kept this secret for so long and a part of him has always dreaded this would be how arthur would find out. voices coming from beyond the door to arthur's chambers, as arthur realizes merlin's not going to move in time

imagining arthur frantically hiding merlin somewhere in his rooms while the guards search for him - maybe he's stuffed unceremoniously in a wardrobe, or has to clamber out of arthur's window and hang off the windowsill for dear life until arthur hauls him back inside, or something

and after the guards are gone, and the coast is relatively clear, merlin realizes he can't hide his secret from arthur any longer

cue arthur processing his feelings about merlin's magic (and about merlin) while also harboring him as a fugitive within his rooms, which merlin can't leave for his own safety. arthur who's at first angry with him, then grudgingly curious about what merlin can do with his magic, then openly admiring, then indignant when he finds out merlin's been cheating at his chores with magic

arthur realizing there really is a risk to merlin, if the allegations are true, becoming all the more insistent that merlin must leave camelot even if it will pain him for merlin to leave. merlin adamant about staying. the two of them arguing over it because doesn't arthur understand he's merlin's destiny, and everything merlin's done has been for him, and if arthur sends him away now, it'll all be for nothing? (unspoken: doesn't arthur understand how merlin loves him? and also unspoken: doesn't merlin understand how arthur loves him? because arthur would rather long for merlin from afar and have him safe than put him at risk, here in camelot?)

of course, all of this happening while merlin says he'll sleep on the floor during the nights, and arthur not hearing of it after all merlin's done for him, knowing now all the power merlin has, and merlin insistent that arthur doesn't owe him anything, he'd have done it a thousand times over

okay, and basically it's like the best mashup of mutual pining + forced proximity + magic reveal + there was only one bed EVER, the end

#actually i wanna write this now damn #bbc merlin #merthur #that being said... i've never written merlin fic #so idk

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minispidey · 6 months

Text

Lust is a Drug.

Marc Spector x f!reader. Angie's first kinktober.

(a/n: i got writer's block! but i just had to put this out as soon as i could finish it and I finally did! and i just realized marc didn't take off reader's undies... mushi said it was ok so i'm not gonna edit it...)

warnings: corruption, breeding, p in v, cheating, reader is in a cult. english is not my first language.

word count: 2,394.

For as long as you can remember, you've never really known the world outside your house. You weren't taught basic math or science, you were just your parents' doll. So when they let you go, after 21 years of being under their control, you wandered off not knowing what to do. You didn't have a diploma or the basic education to even get a job.

And when a couple of nice people invited you to their small town, of course, you accepted. You were provided shelter, food, and clothing. You were as pure as an angel and untouched, and Arthur Harrow set his eyes on you, wanting you for himself. You were the perfect woman.

Of course, you said yes. He was kind to you. He was a decent husband, but your marriage wasn't what you imagined it would be. There was always something missing.

When your husband brought back Khonshu's avatar, you were curious. Finally, someone who knew what the world was like without being as brainwashed as everyone around you.

You poked your head out to watch your husband lead the man to the dining area. Your white dress swayed as you made your way to Arthur's side, holding his arm "How fascinating..." you whispered.

"Don't mind her. This is my wife, just curious like always." Arthur looks at you before patting your head "Dearest, I'd like you to meet Steven Grant and well, Marc Spector."

"It's very nice to meet you." you stared doe-eyed at him. Steven's eyes shifted towards you before nodding "It's nice to meet you too."

"Why don't you go ahead and help with supper, hm? Run along now." Arthur smiles at you before rubbing your back.

"Alright." you obediently nodded as you went off to the other tables. Arthur let out a small laugh "Beautiful, isn't she?"

"Your wife? Yeah, I guess- I mean, she's a real beauty." Steven stammered with his words "She's lovely."

"Don't be so tense. She doesn't bite." Arthur pats his back as they both sit in front of a table.

From afar, you continued to stare at Steven. Your eyelashes fluttered a bit and your body felt like putty. You squealed a bit when your fingertips accidentally graze over a boiling pot.

Right. Kitchen duties.

The night wore out, and you retreated to your quarters, washing yourself. The soft silk of your nightgown rubbed against your skin as you lay down on the sheets. You took a deep breath of the fresh cold air, relaxing your body.

Not long after, your husband joins you. He smiled at you "What do you think, dearest? Think he'll help us?"

"I can tell he's stubborn." you giggled, turning your head towards him.

"Well, Marc Spector is. Steven Grant is... gullible and he'll trust us. You can help gain his trust. You're always the convincing one." His finger boops the tip of your nose before he cups your face with both of his hands.

"If that's what you think best, my love."

He pressed a kiss against your temple "We must rest for tomorrow. You'll keep him company, won't you?"

"I will."

The next day, you dressed in your usual white dress and prepared to welcome Steven to your little town. While Arthur was off doing whatever he does, you stopped by the little cottage Steven was given for last night.

You knocked on the door and patiently waited with a soft smile until he eventually opened it.

"Good morning." you said "I brought you bread. As a welcome."

"Uh, thank you." he nods.

"May I come in?"

"Yeah, go ahead." his British accent was gone, you noticed. You blinked twice before smiling "Marc Spector?"

"Yeah." he opens the door wider "Come in."

"Okay." were you a little scared that it was Marc? Yes. Steven seemed nicer than how Arthur first described Marc to you, but now you were faced with Marc himself.

"My husband wanted me to give you a warm welcome. He has some duties today so he sent me in his place. Did you sleep well?"

"Not bad." he shook his head.

"Good to hear." you nodded "You must be starving-"

"What do you want?" Marc asked you, staring into your eyes.

Your mouth was hung open before you took a deep breath in "I just... want to welcome you. It might be just a visit but I wanted to make you comfortable..."

"Nothing about this whole... thing..." he waved his hand "...is comfortable."

"I'm sorry, I-"

"Listen. You can leave. I'll tell Harrow that you did welcome me, and whatever. Just leave." he walks towards you, making you back up against the wall.

"I'm not very fond of lying to my husband..."

"Then keep a secret. Now, leave." Marc points to the door "Thanks for the bread. Now, go."

You felt butterflies in your stomach. You've never felt this way before. But something about this... situation, is making you extremely-

"Go."

"Y-Yes..." you stuttered as you kept eye contact with him. You slowly made your way to the door before walking outside.

Your legs were like jello. You felt an unfamiliar sensation down there, your... core. You gulped before walking back to the town and rushing into your house, running up the stairs. It confused Arthur who had just come home.

You hiked up your skirt when you reached the bathroom and sat on the toilet. You had thought you were on your period— but you weren't.

But clear substance coated your folds. You've never touched it before but you were curious, taking a finger and dipping it inside.

"No... it's a sin..." you quickly pulled your hand away "I mustn't...." you whisper.

You washed your hands and quickly fixed your dress. But the burning sensation in your core never stopped.

That night, you lay in bed alone, your breasts were warm as you placed your palm to feel your heartbeat.

Marc was just so intimidating. The way he looked at you made you feel things you've never felt before.

The way he towered over you, the way he stared at you, and the way he spoke to you...

Your hand was in between your legs again.

You let out a gasp before pulling your hand away and sitting up. Your heartbeat raced and your face heated up, feeling your soaked cotton panties.

Just as you clasped your hands for a prayer, you heard a click from the window, making you snap your head towards it.

The moon shines from behind the white curtain and suddenly the windows slammed open, the cold air hitting your face.

You shivered and covered your eyes from the bright moon before getting out of bed, the soles of your feet touching the cold wooden floor. You made your way to the window to close it.

Until you felt a warm breath against the nape of your neck.

It sent goosebumps down your spine and you turned to find

"Marc?"

His stare was hypnotic. You didn't even notice that he was walking closer to you, trapping you against the window.

He lifted your chin upwards to look at you closer, his thumb grazing over your bottom lip. You quivered from under his touch as you fully surrendered yourself to him.

It wasn't right, but Gods did it feel right.

You shot up from the bed, beads of sweat falling down your delicate skin. Arthur was sleeping peacefully beside you and you quickly snapped your head up towards the window to find it closed.

You slipped out of the bed and grabbed a robe before leaving the house, off to see Marc in the cabin.

You didn't even knock.

"Marc?"

His door was wide open and he looked like he was just about to leave. He locked eyes with you "What're you doing here?"

You played with your fingers as you looked down "I-I know some of the townsfolk won't tell me anything about my uh... problems... but I've just been wanting some answers from someone who knows the outside world."

"What do you mean?"

"This morning." you immediately replied "You made me feel something. I don't understand what it was..."

Marc stood silent as he scanned your face. You looked clueless.

"Come in."

The cabin was dark, but moonlight peeked from the curtains. You sat on his bed and you kept eye contact with him, waiting for him to make a move. You weren't sure what but anything would satisfy you just to break the silence.

"How exactly did I make you feel?" Marc slowly approached you on the bed "Tell me.”

You hesitated. You struggled to get the word out, until finally “A-Aroused." It made you feel dirty, unclean, unworthy of your godly husband "I must go, this was a terrible idea-"

Just as you stood up, Marc grabbed your wrist, but he was gentle "Sit back down."

All you could do was stare up at him as you sat back down at his command.

A mischievous smirk curls on Marc's lips as he hears your admission. He pulled back slightly to meet your eyes, his gaze was intense and filled with desire.

"Aroused, huh? Well, well, looks like you aren't as pure as I thought." he says "Tell me, what specifically got you all hot and bothered?" his fingers toy with the tie around your robe, teasingly brushing against the exposed silk of your nightgown.

"I want to know every little detail that got you all worked up. Don't hold back now. I want to help you." truth be told, he already knew.

His other hand cupped your cheek, making your breath hitch as you melted into his warm touch.

"Help me..." you mindlessly repeated. Marc leans in, claiming your lips in a deep hungry kiss.

"Tell me, what do you need from me?" he whispered against your lips.

"I need you..."

Marc hikes up your nightgown, holding your thighs as he knelt. He dips his head towards your core while spreading your legs apart. He could smell your essence from the wet patch of your cotton panties

He trails teasing kisses along your inner thighs, his lips tantalizingly close to where you need him most.

His hands slide up your body, gripping your hips possessively as he positions himself to give you the pleasure you crave. And then, with a slow, deliberate motion, his tongue makes contact with your throbbing clit.

Your eyes rolled to the back of your head. You gripped the sheets when you felt the sudden pleasure on your sensitive bud “W-Wait…” but you didn't want him to stop.

Marc's mouth works expertly, his lips and tongue exploring every sensitive inch, flicking and teasing with precision. His voice is a seductive melody as he speaks against your skin.

"You taste so good..." he murmurs, looking up at you.

As the pressure builds, Marc's pace quickens, his mouth working fast, driven by the desire to bring you to the edge. He listens to your moans, your gasps, your pleas, adjusting his movements to match your rhythm and intensity.

And as your stomach twisted, Marc's doesn't let up. His tongue flicks over your sensitive clit and went back to dip in between your folds, leaving you trembling and gasping for breath.

“Marc…” you whined out a string of incomprehensible words. Marc then lets you wrap your legs around his head, letting him go deeper.

Marc continues to lap at your sensitive flesh, prolonging your release, drawing out every last drop of pleasure. He revels in the way your body shuddered, your moans of ecstasy echoing through the room.

“O-Oh, I… Marc…” your toes curled and you let out a loud moan as you reached your orgasm.

Marc slowly withdraws, his lips leaving a trail of lingering kisses along your inner thighs. He rises to his feet, a satisfied smile playing on his lips.

“T-This is a sin…”

“It’s normal. Everyone does it.” he licks his lips clean of you before cupping your face and pressing a kiss on your lips “You’ve never done this before, huh?”

“No…” you shook your head.

“Not even with your husband?” he raises an eyebrow.

“He said it wasn't necessary.”

“That’s a lie, you know? You’ve never experienced pleasure— sex.” Marc’s other hand slides down to hold your breast “I can show you how it feels.”

“But my husband-”

“He won’t know a thing.”

He had you wrapped around his finger. You slowly nodded as you lay down on the bed, his hand guiding you.

His hands find their way to your hips, his touch possessive yet gentle as he got on top of you.

"I’ll go slow." he whispers, his voice gentle and assuring, making your body relax.

Marc pulls down his sweatpants, taking out his already-hardened cock. He positions himself at your entrance, his eyes never leaving yours.

“Tell me if you want me to stop.”

And then, with a slow thrust, he enters you, filling you. A moan escapes his lips as he relishes the sensation of being inside you. You let out a gasp as his cock overwhelmed you.

"Fuck, you feel so good…” he groans, his voice filled with a mix of admiration and desire. "You're so tight, so perfect.”

He started with slow, painfully slow thrusts. Marc let you adjust to his girth and kissed you to ease the new sensation “That’s it… good girl…”

As the pace quickens, Marc's grip tightens on your hips. With each thrust, his cock massaged your walls, and he guides you towards ecstasy.

Marc’s thrusts become more relentless as you let him go faster. His breath was hot against your skin while he drove you both toward a mind-shattering climax. He talks you through it while hitting your g-spot “That’s a good girl…”

And when the release finally crashes over you, Marc continues to move to stuff his cum inside of you, prolonging your pleasure and drawing out every last sensation. He revels in the way your body quivers beneath him, your moans filling the air.

As the waves of pleasure subside, Marc eases his movements, his touch becoming more gentle and tender. He presses soft kisses against your lips “You can keep a secret, right?”

“Yes…” you nodded, a bit hazy from the pleasure “I’ll keep a secret…”

“Good girl.” Marc praised you as he wiped off the sweat from your forehead “Now, do you know where the Scarab is?”

#moon knight #steven grant #jake lockley #marc spector #moon knight system #moon knight smut #x fem!reader #marc spector smut #minispidey kinktober

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clxja16 · 1 year

Text

Does He Know?

Charles Leclerc x Reader

Genre: forbidden relationship

Warnings: suggestive content, swearing, angst

Word Count: 865

Author's Note: I seen a TikTok and then I thought of this. I realize that everything I posted so far deals with the Leclercs and that's not on purpose. I told myself that the next time I write anything for this blog its gonna be someone else, but then I saw this TikTok with Arthur and Charles so ofc it had to be Arthur and Charles for this. Also I don't condone cheating in any sense, unless you're cheating on a groomer or something, but that's a conversation for another time. one more thing, idk if this is getting a part two yet, lmk what you guys think lol

post about part 2

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

‘Oh shit’ were the first words in your mind, when you felt the morning sun on your face. Your head ached with last night's decisions. You pulled the blanket closer to you realizing that somewhere between the club last night and your bed this morning you lost your dress. You opened your eyes finally looking around to notice the dark blanket that didn’t match your nice cream ones. You noticed the walls lined with racing posters that didn’t match your art filled walls. You turned over in the bed to notice the man laying there that wasn’t your boyfriend.

“Shit,” you cursed aloud as you shot up in bed.

The man that laid next to you turned over, “Charlotte why are you yelling?” he asked with a mumble.

“Um…” you were at a complete loss for words, you don’t even remember drinking that much, “i’m not Charlotte.” you said softly, hopeful not to startle the man next to you.

He shot up next to you, finally sitting up and looking at you, “you’re not my girlfriend,” he said as the color drained from his face.

“You’re not my boyfriend,” you said, hopeful that he was trying to catch your hint.

“This didn’t happen,” you both said at the same time. You thanked the heavens above that he caught on to what you were trying to say. You made quick work of finding your dress, and getting a cab to get the hell out of his apartment. You and him skipped over the pleasantries, not wanting to know each other's names or anything that happened last night. He didn’t even walk you out the door, not that you really wanted him to.

You were just grateful that he let you go without any argument. As soon as you got back to your place, you threw that wretched dress into the trash and jumped into the shower. When you were done with your shower, scrubbing off all the remnants of the other man you called your boyfriend, Arthur.

Arthur wasted no time in getting over to your place, when you opened the door to see him standing there you thought that maybe you shouldn’t tell him. He didn’t need to know, who would tell him? You were sure all your friends would cover for you, you didn’t know the guy that you slept with, maybe you could just keep this to yourself.

“I made a mistake,” the words tumbled out of you before you could catch them. Arthur stood in front of you so happily that you couldn’t further break his heart by keeping this from him to find out later on.

“Mistake?” Arthur took a step back from you, “what kind of mistake?”

“I think…” you felt tears welled in your eyes, this was gonna be the end to a relationship that hasn’t even started yet, “I slept with someone last night.”

“I see,” Arthur said, looking down as if he were in deep thought. You stood there in silence for a minute. Then two minutes, then ten minutes, then fifteen minutes. “Arthur, say something please.”

“What do you want me to say?” Arthur scoffed, “I want to be angry, I am angry but I don’t know if I have a right to. I have never asked you to be my girlfriend yet.”

“Be angry, you have a right to be angry. Even if I’m not your girlfriend, there was an unsaid agreement that we were committed to each other. Be angry, just don’t leave.” You said, as you held onto Arthur's hands.

“I don’t want to leave,” Arthur said, finally looking at you.

“I don’t want you to leave either.” You said, as you took a step closer to Arthur, hoping to close some of the space between the both of you.

“I am still very angry with you though,” Arthur said, “but I don’t want to lose you just yet.”

“I don’t want to lose you Arthur, last night was a terrible mistake, something that I would never do. When I woke up this morning, the first person I thought of was you. I rushed home to see you. I wanted to tell you before anything else.”

“I am gonna put this behind us because I want to be with you,” Arthur said, closing the gap between the two of you. You nodded your head, hanging onto every word that passed his lips, “but from this day forward you’re mine. You belong to me, and only me.”

That day was over three months ago now. The past three months you have been happy, loved, overjoyed with Arthur. You didn’t even dare to look at another man. You and Arthur moved past it and never brought it up again. You didn’t even think about it again. Until now, when Arthur wanted you to meet his family. You were sitting across the table from the man you had a one night stand that almost ended your relationship before it happened, Charles Leclerc. And all the memories from that night, everything you thought you were too drunk to remember came rushing back to you. Based on how Charles looked at you, you would say he remembered too.

part II

#formula 1 imagine #formula 1 fanfic #formula 1 #formula 2 imagine #formula 2 fanfic #ferrari #fda #charles lecrelc #charles leclerc imagine #charles leclerc fanfic #charles leclerc x you #arthur leclerc imagines #Arthur Leclerc x you #clxja works #charles leclerc imagines #formula 1 au #formula 1 angst #charles leclerc

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themultifandomgal · 8 months

Text

Tommy Shelby- His Ballet Girl

I had the idea of Tommy dating someone who is a ballet dancer and one of my followers gave me the idea of Tommy cheating on his wife. This does not represent my beliefs, cheating is horrible

Warnings- Tommy cheating on his wife and reader not caring.

YN has been dancing since she could walk, she feel in love with ballet when her parents took her to her first theatre show. From that moment on YN begged her parents for ballet shoes and lessons.

Now being 29 years old she is now dancing in the same show she first saw, The Nutcracker.

YN sits in the garrison with the Shelby's, who she's known for many years. Even though she was from a different social class she always got on with the brothers and Ada, but she's specifically close with Tommy... very close to Tommy.

YN walks through the garrison to their room. Not knocking she walks in and sits next to Arthur

"Whisky?"

"No thanks Arthur. Have rehearsal early tomorrow"

"How is it going?" Lizzie asks sitting on Tommys lap. Although YN feels a little jealous, she knows that tonight Tommy will be warming her bed not theirs which puts a smile on YNs face

"Good thank you. Are you guys coming to the first show?" YN asks looking around

"Actually I wanted to ask you for a favour" YN looks at Lizzie "I'm not sure if you know this, but Tommy is throwing me a huge party for my birthday" YN did know because Tommy was in her bed moaning about having to throw this party "and I was wondering if you would perform"

"Of course. Tommy can let me know the date" Tommy sits quietly, he's not uncomfortable with this situation, his wife and his mistress talking

"So YN how's your mystery man?" Esme asks

"He's great. Bought me this" YN shows off her necklace

"When are we meeting this mystery man?" Lizzie asks, oh if she only knew

"Not sure. He needs to leave his wife first" Tommy coughs nudging Lizzie off his lap

"I have to get going if I want to get to London at a decent time"

"Ok. I'll miss you" she leans down and kisses his lips

"Yeah you too" he replies leaving the room

"Well I'm going to head off home" Lizzie says saying goodbye to everyone

"You sure you don't want a drink?" Arthur asks

"No I'm good thank you. I probably should also go home, go to bed early. I'll see you all tomorrow".

"When are you telling her?" YN asks Tommy lying in bed

"Soon. I want to get her birthday out of the way" YN groans "I know your having fun messing with her though. Showing off your necklace"

"Yes but she's sitting on you lap, asking me to dance at her birthday, it's a bit fucked"

"You agreed to do it" Tommy chuckles making YN smile

"Yes because I wasn't going to get invited else and I would love to sneak off with you at some point during the day"

"I'm sure you would" YN yawns interrupting Tommy "tired?"

"Mmm" YN hums

"Go to sleep. I'll be here in the morning" Tommy kisses her forehead.

Weeks later and it's Lizzie's birthday, she's going around bragging about how amazing Tommy is for making this party possible. YN is stretching before performing when Esme walks over to her

"I know who the mystery man is"

"I'm guessing you spoke to the spirits" YN jokes standing up

"Don't be stupid YN. How long have have you and Arthur been sleeping with each other?"

"Arthur!" YN yells getting you "you think I've been sleeping with Arthur?"

"Well you sit next to him every time we're at the garrison, he's always getting you a drink, taking you home"

"I promise you it's not Arthur" YN watches as Tommy walks into the house without Lizzie "I'll be back later Esme" YN follows Tommy into the house looking for him. Suddenly she's pulled into another room by Tommy locking the door behind him. His lips are immediately on YN's smudging her lipstick.

"Who the hell is it Thomas?" Lizzie whisper yells at Tommy while YN is performing. After Tommy and YN's rendezvous Tommy went back to his wife, not knowing their was lipstick on his shirt

"I'm not doing this now Lizzie"

"Not doing... it's my birthday and you've been fucking someone?"

"Lizzie" Tommy sighs rubbing the temples of his head "just enjoy your birthday and we will talk about this tomorrow" Lizzie crosses her arms in a huff and turns to look at YN who's dancing. She notices YN glances in their direction, she looks at Tommy and notices him staring at her. That's when it clicks

"It's her. You fucking bastard Thomas Shelby" Lizzie storms off but Tommy doesn't go after her. He stays to watch YN.

#peaky blinders #peaky blinders imagine #peaky blinders reader #tommy shelby #tommy shelby x y/n #tommy shelby x wife #tommy shelby x you #tommy shelby x oc #tommy shelby imagine #tommy shelby x reader

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daydreaming-en-pointe · 4 months

Text

╰┈➤ i won’t sleep till you’re safe inside.

Pairing: Pavitr Prabhakar x Sister!Reader (platonic obviously)

Type: Fanfic - Fluff -> Angst

Word count: 8.5k (🫢🤯)

Warnings: NOT CANON-COMPLIANT! (I’ll make a list of everything that’s probably not canon but is for this fic) colour-coordinated dialogues to make it easier to understand who’s talking, starts out fluffy but evolves into angst, cussing, reader is desi, usage of Hindi (translations given, except for the Sheila Ki Jawani song), hahaha culturedumping & projection go hand in hand 😭

Some Goldenmodel (is that their official ship name??) too! (pls they’re literally so cute 🫠🫠)

A/N: Basically where Pavi loses his sister instead of Gayathri :D

The numbers at the top of every section indicate Pavitr and the reader’s age respectively (reader is older than Pavi) :)

Andddd the Pavitr Bhim Prabhakar hc continues 😁

Probably (Definitely) Non-Canon List:

-reader’s existence basically since she’s the daughter of Maya Aunty and Uncle Bhim (so she’s not technically his sister she’s his cousin but close enough!)

-I actually have NO idea how Pavi’s parents died or anything abt them so I’m basically making stuff up hehe

-Reader also gets the scholarship to Mumbattan that Pavitr got, but for a different subject

-kinda waffling on Bhim’s death since I’ve never actually read the comic where he died so idk much of anything

-Reader helps Pavi make his webshooters (kinda)

-Pav may be a teensy bit ooc I apologize for that

-there’s probably a lot more but none I can pinpoint specifically right now

(this is the song that Pav sings btw)

title inspo:

Will you call me to tell me you’re alright?

Cause I worry about you the whole night

Don’t repeat my mistakes

I won’t sleep till you’re safe inside

(Safe Inside, James Arthur)

——— ———

4 & 6.

“Didi!”

You stifled a giggle, peeking out from behind the tree you were hiding behind to see the tiny boy scrambling over rocks and protruding tree roots, his eyes squinted in concentration as he searched for you.

“Come out, come out wherever you- ai!” He cut himself off with a sharp squeal of surprise, stumbling backwards as you leaped out and bared your teeth like the demonic rakshasas that seem to lunge right off the pages of your mother’s - Pavitr’s aunt’s - mythology books.

“Not fair,” Pavitr complained, glaring up at you and crossing his arms. His nose scrunched at the injustice and you laughed, sticking your tongue out at him and ruffling his hair.

“Totally fair.”

“Nahin! Pura cheating! Didi, tum hamesha dhokha deti ho!” (No! Fully cheating! You always cheat!)

“Oy, Pavi, main kaise dhokha de rahi hai? What nonsense you’re talking.” (How am I cheating?)

“I’m telling Maya Aunty that you’re being mean to me.”

“Wait-”

“Arrey, both of you stop squabbling and come up here,” Maya Aunty’s voice carried down into the lawn from the veranda as she poked her head out of the kitchen. “I made gajar ka halwa. Come eat before Bhim gets back and finishes everything.”

Pavitr’s eyes lit up at the mention of the carrot dessert, all earlier frustrations forgotten for the moment. “Race you!” He turned and darted across the lawn, his hair bobbing as he kicked up clouds of dirt under his shoes.

“Pavi, how is this fair?!”

——— ———

6 & 8.

“Didi! Checkmate! I win!”

“Ai, Pavi, that’s not… chess doesn’t work like…” He turned to you with big, shining eyes, grinning from ear to ear because he thought he had won. You trailed off with a resigned sigh, not having the heart to tell him that he had just got his own king killed.

“Wow, Pavi, you’re getting so good at this! You’re a natural!” You ruffled his hair affectionately, despite his protests and attempts to fight you off.

“Y/N! Yahaan aao!” (Come here)

You immediately perked up, eyebrows drawing together as you heard your mother’s voice, only… something was off. She sounded like she was holding back tears, the beginnings of a raw sob lingering in her throat.

“Haan, Amma? Kya hua?” (Yes? What happened?) (Amma/Maa just means mother)

She sat hunched next to the balcony, a phone in her slack grip. Your father - Pavitr’s Uncle Bhim - knelt with his back to you, holding her and rubbing her shoulders comfortingly. Tears fell from her eyes and the only sounds that split the air were her jagged heaves between soft sniffles.

“Amma? Papa, what happened to Amma?” Unease twisted in your stomach, knitting your eyebrows closer together as you moved forward and grasped your mother’s hand.

Your father turned to look at you and you inhaled sharply.

That was the first time you had ever seen your father cry.

“Pavitr’s parents were involved in an accident,” He struggled to keep his tone even for you.

“An accident? You mean…”

“Yes, beta. They’re… they’re gone.”

Your breath hitched and you backed away slightly, steadying yourself against the wall behind you.

You didn’t know much about what happened - and it would probably stay like that since you were ‘too young to bother yourself with the worries of the adult world - but you knew one thing for sure.

This is going to break Pavi.

I can’t let that happen.

You heard soft patters of bare feet on the marble floors and looked up just as Pavitr’s dark hair disappeared to the side of the doorframe.

Not trusting yourself to speak without breaking down mid-speech, you got up and left without a word, patting your mother’s hand sympathetically on the way.

You found Pavitr sitting against the tree you used to play hide and seek around. He pulled his knees to his chest, resting his forehead on his kneecaps and raising his head when you approached. “What happened, Didi?”

You grasped at words that would help convey it, but to no avail. How could you tell a 6 year old - one who was essentially a brother to you now - that his parents had died?

You had two ways out.

…I should tell him.

“Pavi… Maya Aunty will explain, but… basically, you’re going to be spending a lot more time with us - with me. How does that sound?”

Pavitr grinned, his eyes shining - and of course he had to look like a trusting puppy. Of course it had to make you feel guilty the moment those words, a romanticized version of the truth, left your lips.

“That sounds awesome,” He said happily, half-turning to wrap his arms snugly around your waist in a hug. “We’ll have so much fun! You can finally teach me how to play kancha and lagori like you’ve been wanting to! Right, Didi?”

“…yeah. You’re right.” You leaned down to kiss the top of his head as he nestled comfortably against your side, the strands of hair tickling your chin as you rested your head on his. You felt tears starting to well up as the depth of the situation hit you at full force.

Kaayar. Coward.

——— ———

9 & 11.

“Didi!”

You looked up from your schoolwork as Pavitr burst into your room. “What’s going on?”

“Maya Aunty said there’s some sort of… scholarship? They said we have to go to Mumbattan!” Your eyes shot wide open and you pushed your chair back from your desk to follow him into the kitchen. What scholarship? Mumbattan?

Maya Aunty had told you both that she had submitted samples of your writing and a few of Pavitr’s blueprints for futuristic designs he had come up with for various robotics competitions, but… you never thought the entry would ever amount to anything.

“Amma, Papa, yeh sach hai? Did we get a scholarship to Mumbattan?” (Is this true?)

“Haan, beta.” Your mother looked slightly tired, weary - but ultimately happy. The happiest you had seen her in quite a while. Your father patted your head affectionately, a large smile on his face. “Well done, both of you. Mere champions.” (My champions)

The moment dissipated like it was never there in the first place when Maya Aunty’s eyebrows scrunched together with worry once more as she turned to Uncle Bhim. “Arrey, Bhim. Hum kaise kharch uthayenge? Mumbattan mei, woh kiraaya-” (How will we afford this? The rent in Mumbattan-)

The moment you heard those words, you let out a soft exhale and took Pavitr’s hand, gently tugging on it and leading him away from the ‘adult’ conversation. By now, you were almost conditioned to do your best to avoid conversations that always got your parents stressed out and sometimes led to frustrated breakdowns which simmered into tearful apologies and doubtful plans.

“Let’s go play kancha, Pavi. I’ll even let you start this time.”

You ran out onto the lawn with him, your hand holding onto his smaller one tightly as if you could protect him from all the harm and sadness and worry that the world had to offer.

——— ———

11 & 13.

“Didi!”

“Don’t didi me. You agreed to this, remember? You brought this upon yourself,” You said between giggles that got increasingly louder at how ridiculous he looked.

Maya Aunty and Bhim Uncle were both out buying groceries, and Pavitr was so bored that he accepted your challenge to see who could balance more than five stones on their forehead. And if he lost, you would get to do his hair and makeup.

That was why he was currently sitting in front of you, bright pink eyeshadow on both his eyelids and wearing the brightest red lipstick you could find. He winced in pain, loudly protesting every two seconds as you tried to put his wavy hair into a Dutch braid. He had let it grow out over the past few months, and at the rate he was going, if he left it for even a little while more it’d be longer than yours.

“You need a haircut, Pavi. I think you might be getting split ends…” You couldn’t help but chuckle at the expression of pure horror that crossed his face at your words, which quickly turned to annoyance. “Shut up, you’re just saying that because you’re jealous- ow!”

“Whoops.”

“You did that on purpose.”

“Did not.” You looped a rubber band onto the ends of the braid, finally finishing and tilting your head to critically examine your handiwork. “There, you’re all done.”

Pavitr glanced at his reflection in the compact mirror you offered him. “Wait, I don’t look that bad. I can pull this off pretty well, actually.”

“Sure you can, sweetie. Let’s do your nails now.”

“You’re the absolute worst.”

——— ———

12 & 14.

“Didi! Rise and shine!”

You groaned softly, turning over onto your side. “Get out.”

“Aww, that’s so sweet and definitely not a prime example of you being mean to your younger brother. Seriously though, we have to get going soon for school.” He expertly dodged the spare pillow you threw at him, deciding to kneel by your bedside and stare you in the eyes like some psychotic cat.

“Not everyone’s a morning person, Pavi. Besides, it’s 6 in the damn morning. Come back in another hour.”

Pavitr didn’t respond, just started humming a tune and tapping out a familiar beat on your bedside table, using two pencils from your desk’s mug of stationery as makeshift drumsticks.

“I know you want it but you’re never gonna get it, tere haath kabhi na aani…”

Your eyes shot open as you recognized the song. “No, Pavi, I swear to God-”

“Maane na maane koi duniya yeh saari, mere ishq ki hai deewani…” Stifling laughter, he backed out of range before you could smack some sense into him with another pillow.

“Pavitr! Stop!” You chucked a pillow at him, sitting up and staring at him in utter astonishment at his song choices.

“Kisi aur ki mujhko zaroorat kya, main toh khud se pyaar jataun! What’s my name, what’s my name, what’s my name…?”

“Pavitr Bhim Prabhakar, if you don’t stop singing that song right now-” You lunged forward, trying to grab him and muffle the lyrics of the Bollywood song he was singing - granted, he wasn’t a terrible singer, and in fact he could sing in Hindi quite well, but out of every song he could’ve chosen… this? “By the way, you missed a few lines, but that’s not the point! Stop it!”

“My name is Sheila! Sheila ki jawani! I’m too sexy for you, mei tere hath na aani-”

Chaos ensued in the next few seconds. Pavitr, who had been running around your room doing whatever choreography he could remember from the scene with that particular song in the movie you had both watched, tripped on the fallen pillow and fell flat on his face.

You had been chasing him around and tripped over him, rolling over and landing beside him. Luckily, you managed to break your fall with your palms.

“How’d the ground taste, hmm?” You asked, offering a hand to help him up.

“You’re mean,” Pavitr complained, taking your hand and pulling himself up. You fixed his slightly ruffled hair, a little surprised at how soft it was. Was he already going through the phase of being obsessed with how he looked?

“Yeah, well. You’re in my room at 6 am singing one of the sluttiest Bollywood songs you know, so… you’ll live, buttercup.” You gave his head a rough pat, turning to reluctantly make your bed - might as well, since you were already awake - as he hovered over your shoulder with a grin.

“But hey, it did get you up, didn’t it?”

——— ———

13 & 15.

“Didi! Where are you? I need to tell you something!”

“…I don’t understand. What are you saying?” You felt so paralyzed that you didn’t even register your brother’s voice. Instead you stared at the person you thought was your boyfriend, dangerously quiet. The calm before the storm. He shifted uncomfortably, fiddling with his sleeve and clearing his throat.

“Um, I think we should break up. I’ve kind of been… seeing another girl. Shreya.”

You were careful to keep your expression neutral, crossing your arms to prevent you from worrying at your nails. “For how long?”

“Uh, I-”

“How. Long. It’s a simple question.”

“Five months.”

“Son of a bitch.” You kept your voice low, sweeping a hand towards the door. “The exit’s there. Leave.”

“Listen, I’m really-”

“Get out. I’m serious. Get the fuck out of here before I make you do so.”

He stopped and stared at you for a few seconds, realizing just how angry you were.

“Okay. Well, it was… good seeing you, I guess. I hope you-”

“Didi?”

This time you heard Pavitr call you, soft hesitancy in his voice that carried into the room from the other side of the door. “Everything okay?”

“Yeah, Pavi, I’m fine. You can come in.” You covered the cracks in the screens of overly pleasant tones that you layered over your voice so as to make sure he didn’t worry.

He quickly entered your room, and from the way he glared daggers at your now-ex-boyfriend you assumed he had heard everything - or at least, a large chunk of the conversation.

“Hey there, buddy.”

He had the nerve to smile and hold his knuckles out for a fist bump. Truth be told, you felt a sort of bitter satisfaction when Pavitr just glared up at him and didn’t bother lifting his hand to return it.

“Fuck off.”

“What?”

His eyes widened slightly and traveled from the harsh scowl fixed on Pavitr’s face to your dangerously calm demeanour.

“You heard him, didn’t you?”

“I… yeah. I’m going. See you around.”

You followed him with your eyes as he inched toward the door, shutting it behind him.

The moment he left, your unbothered façade cracked and splintered into pieces. You moved yourself to sit on your bed, slipping the covers over your legs. “Thank you,” You murmured to Pavitr, closing your eyes so he wouldn’t see the tears threatening to spill. He came over to sit beside you, wrapping an arm around your shoulders.

“Mat rouoh didi. Hum ek movie dekhenge?” (Don’t cry didi. Wanna watch a movie?)

“Haan, please. As long as it’s not Tees Maar Khan, I am not watching that again with you. I’ve had enough of that Sheila ki Jawani. Wait, Pavi, you said you wanted to tell me something?”

“…that’s not important right now, don’t worry about it.”

You didn’t notice him anxiously trying to peel off the edge of the blanket that was stubbornly sticking to the pads of fingers.

——— ———

A week later.

It had happened so suddenly. No one seemed to know anything.

Well, except the fact that your father had died somehow.

I know we fought a lot more in… in the end, but I love you. I always have and I always will, Papa. You made me who I am today, you taught me to know my own worth and accept no less. Believe me, I think about it every day. If you were here I’d tell you.

You wished you could say that out loud, to offer everyone present a window into your thoughts to prove you weren’t just an angsty teenager - or a family disappointment, which a few aunties seemed to believe by the way they were whispering and shooting overly sympathetic looks your way which were quickly followed up by hushed giggles.

But instead you kept your head down and used what little energy you could muster to give a nod of acknowledgement every time a distant relative - even ones you hadn’t seen since you were a baby - popped up in your face to console you.

“Where’s Pavitr? Did he come to the antyesti?” You jumped; you hadn’t noticed your mother hovering beside you until she laid a light hand on your shoulder. She seemed to move around like a spectre; dressed completely in a simple white salwaar kameez with a long white shawl wrapped around her in such a way that it obscured both her arms and her hair, along with part of her face.

“No, I don’t think so - at least, I haven’t seen him.” You looked over her shoulder at the priests starting to get everything prepared for the ceremony and searched the crowds of vaguely familiar people.

Where the hell is he?

Getting the priests to agree to Pavitr - who wasn’t exactly Bhim’s son but the closest thing to it - leading the rituals was hard enough. But then again, it wasn’t like they had much of a choice, did they? You couldn’t exactly do it - the rituals of an antyesti were to be performed by the eldest son. Or the priests themselves, if he couldn’t do it for any reason. Never a woman.

You and Maya Aunty weren’t allowed to do anything except watch and pray.

And now if Pavitr didn’t show up in time-

Thwip! Thwip!

You frowned and shook your head slightly, wondering what the source of that noise was. Oh, well, probably just a pesky mosquito buzzing in your ear.

“Didi, Maya Aunty, I am so, so sorry that I’m late. Did they start already?” You jumped again in surprise - what was it with people sneaking up behind you today? You took in Pavitr’s crisp white dhoti and neatly styled hair, and for a second you couldn’t decide whether to hug him or punch him in the face.

“I’ll tell you everything later, didi. Pinky promise,” Pavitr murmured to you, offering his pinky to you. You linked your little finger with his, looking into his eyes as concern bubbled up to mix with the hurricane of emotions already clamouring for attention in your brain.

He had horrible bags under his eyes, like he hadn’t slept properly in a week. And when you gently squeezed his pinky, his breath hitched as if he was in pain and he drew his hand back after a few seconds. You blinked in confusion, getting a brief glimpse of painful-looking faint purple splotches all along his hand and the underside of his arm. They looked like bruises that had been poorly covered up by foundation that was almost three shades too light for his skin, but before you could say anything he turned to make his way through the crowd.

“Pavi-” You started to ask what was going on, what happened, what was wrong, but he just shook his head, angling his chin toward the priests waiting patiently for him.

“Badh mein, didi. Antyesti ke badh.” (Later. After the antyesti)

——— ———

After the ceremony.

“Pavitr Prabhakar, if you don’t tell me what’s going on-” You came face-to-face with one of your more distant aunties, who immediately lit up excitedly in a way that was probably not suited for a cremation ceremony as soon as she recognized you.

“Arrey, beta! You’ve grown so much! How old are you now? You still sing, no? Kya aapne college ke bare socha hain?” (Have you thought/started thinking about college?)

“Haha… hi, aunty… no, aunty… no, I haven’t thought about college yet… have you seen Pavitr anywhere? I need to find him and it’s really urgent but… oh, uh… yes, of course, I would love to catch up over chai sometime. Sure, we should plan that - oh, sorry, bye! Tell my mother that I’ve gone to look for Pavitr, okay? Thank you!”

Seizing the opportunity that presented itself in the form of another aunty who came waddling over to greet the first one, you squeezed through the crowd of people in sarees and dupattas, some milling about and some dispersing, all accompanied by the almost suffocating smell of jasmine. God, did everyone use the same horrible perfume?

Luckily for you, the antyesti was held fairly close to your house - on a large terrace that was only about a 15 minute walk away.

You got to the front door and fumbled with the set of keys in your pocket for a second, your fingers shaking slightly as the shock and grief began to set in. Adrenaline could only take you so far, it seemed.

“Pavi? Pavi, I’m home, where-”

You opened the door to your room and inhaled sharply at the sight that lay before you. Pavitr leaned against your bed, sitting on the floor with his knees hugged close to his chest, chin resting on his kneecaps. His eyes were squeezed shut, eyelashes fluttering as tears slipped out one after another from underneath them.

“Pavi…? Oh, Pavi, mera chhoti bhai, kya hua? Kisi ne… tumhein chot pahunchaee?” (My little brother, what happened? Did… someone hurt you?) You scooted closer to Pavitr, wrapping an arm around his shoulders and drawing him into your side. He buried his face in your shoulder, tears soaking through the thin fabric of the kurta you were wearing.

“Shh. Sab theek ho jayega. Mujhe batao, Pavi. Kya hua?” (Everything’s okay. Tell me, what happened?)

“I’m Spider-Man.”

You blinked in surprise. Out of all the possible explanations he could have offered you, that was certainly not on your list. “Spider-Man? Matlab… the superhero?” (Matlab means meaning)

The hero had emerged only a week ago. Wearing an intricately patterned mask that left his wavy hair loose at the top, a blue-and-red spandex suit and blue dhoti pants on top of them, he was basically impossible to ignore. You had seen some key similarities between Spider-Man and Pav’s hair, but you had always just assumed it was related to how boys cut their hair like their idols sometimes.

“Chacha died because of Spider-Man. Because of me. He got caught in the crossfire and I couldn’t reach him in time and-” Pavitr’s words spilled together in a panicked haze, blurring each syllable and tripping over letters in an attempt to get them out before he could break again. (Chacha is another word for uncle)

You shifted to face him, wrapping him in a tight hug. “Shaant ho jao. Main yahaan hoon. Main kaheen nahin ja raha hoon.” (Calm down. I’m here, I’m not going anywhere)

“I can’t-” His breath quickened as his whole body started to heave with dry sobs. “Please just… just listen to me. This is what I wanted to tell you last week. I’m Spider-Man.”

He mistook your silence as a sign of disbelief and carried on speaking, trying to convince you. “There were these bullies I was running from, and I tripped and fell into a tree hollow and there was this yogi who said he’d give me the powers of a spider to fight the evil in this world, and I didn’t know it would turn out like this so I accepted and-”

“I believe you.”

That caught him off guard. He pulled back to look at you, his eyes wide. “You do?”

“Of course. You think I haven’t noticed you sticking to everything? You almost ripped the couch’s upholstery clean off because you weren’t paying attention.” You gently swiped your thumb near the corner of his eye, wiping away the tear that was at risk of spilling out. “It’s okay, Pavi. Let’s.. talk about something else for the moment.”

As much as you wanted answers - how exactly had your father died? Which sick, twisted, psychotic ‘villain’ killed him? - you knew when to stop pushing Pavitr and now was definitely that time. Tears still shone in the corners of his brown eyes, not quite ready to fall but not small enough to be blinked away.

“Spiderwebs!”

“What?”

“You need spiderwebs, naa? So you can swing like a spider instead of leaping around and relying on sticking to whatever surface you can reach. Ooh, it’d be so cool if you could shoot them from your hands and lasso bad guys and when they fight back you go dishoom dishoom.” (dishoom is basically just a sound effect for beating someone up 😭 usually punching someone)

“… you mean webshooters?” Pavitr watched your emphatic display of just what dishoom dishoom meant to you with a mildly concerned look on his face before he took a folded up piece of paper out of his pocket and smoothed it out. It was filled with designs for some sort of gadget, the sharp, jagged pencil lines highlighting every feature and listing possible building processes.

“I’ve done some research and I’ve got everything, so I know how to make it. But I need something that can contract if I wrap a web around it… kind of like a yo-yo? But it also has to fit on my wrist so that it’s easy for me to angle where I want the web to go.” He absentmindedly tapped the pencil against the silver bangle you were wearing. The soft clinks gave you an idea and you quickly got up, going to your dresser and rummaging around in the drawers.

“Wait, I think I might have something that’ll work…”

Your fingers closed around what you were looking for and you fished it out. You held two large golden cuffs in your hands, but they weren’t regular heavy cuffs. The top and bottom were actually two separate pieces, joined together in the middle by a stretchy piece of white nylon that went all the way around.

Just looking at it made your heart ache a little as all the memories associated with the simple accessory came flooding back.

Your father had given it to you a few Diwalis ago, when you were throwing a tantrum about having to wear the large bangles to go to with the itchy salwar you had on - against your wishes, of course. But your mother warned you that her mother was a stickler for traditions and insisted on everyone wearing the most colourful ethnic wear you all had, including Pavi.

Your father had slid one of the cuffs onto your right wrist, laughing gently at your surprise look when you discovered how light they were, a stark contrast to the gold bangles that weighed down your other wrist.

“Compromise paaya, hain na?” (We’ve found a compromise, right?)

“Haan, papa.”

Now, more than eight years later, you held one of the last things you had left to keep your father’s memory alive.

And what better way to honour him than to use his kaadas to fight evil and protect the city?

“Use these.”

Pavitr looked up and immediately shook his head, gently pushing away your outstretched hands. “No, didi, I can’t- this is what Uncle gave you-”

“I know. He gave them to me as a gift. And now I’m passing them down to you. Please, Pavi. Take them.” You took his hands, pressing the kaadas into his palms and closing his fingers over them.

Something in your tone made him search your gaze for a few seconds before giving in and bringing the cuffs up to his eyes, testing out the nylon middle. “Wait, this is perfect. If I can just…”

He reached into the depths of one of your drawers and pulled out a small device that looked like it had some sort of fluid sloshing around in its… fuel container, maybe? You furrowed your brow in surprise. “Has that always been there? In my cupboard?”

“Well, yeah. Can’t have Maya Aunty accidentally pulling it out of mine, can we?” He gave you a grin. “Besides, you have so many things stuffed into that one drawer that it’s basically impossible to find.”

He attached the device to the inside of the cuff with a small click and slipped it onto his wrist.

Thwip! Thwip!

With two tiny flicks of his wrist, he had shot two webs to the ceiling and was now hanging upside down, a satisfied grin on his face.

“Well, this is working pretty well-”

Thud.

“Don’t you dare,” Pavitr warned you as he winced and rubbed the spot where he had fallen on his backside.

“I will not laugh. I will not laugh. I will not-”

You couldn’t help but burst into giggles at his mildly pathetic sad-puppy expression as he sat dejectedly on the floor after falling from the ceiling.

“So, uh… the web strength may need some work.”

“Everybody, this is Pavitr Bhim Prabhakar, Mumbattan’s Spider-Man.” You pretend to speak into an imaginary microphone, gesturing animatedly towards Pav as he lay on the floor.

“Oh, sure, announce it to the whole world, why don’t you,” He grumbled, reluctantly pulling himself to his feet.

You gave him an overly sweet smile, leaning over to mess up his hair. “Never. I’m gonna take this secret with me to my grave.”

——— ———

14 & 16.

6 months really went by quickly.

6 months of monthly poojas to honour your deceased father. 6 months of Pavitr being Spider-Man. And also…

“Didi! Why isn’t my hair staying down?!”

“Oh, I don’t know, maybe because that bad guy threw you into an electricity tower? Pavi, why are you dressing up all of a sudden anyway?” You sat on the floor of your room as you skeptically watched him brush out his hair. He had insisted that your mirror was big enough and ‘had the best lighting’.

He stayed silent, though you could see him scrunch his nose a little in embarrassment. The realization hit you and you let out a loud - maybe overly dramatic - gasp.

“Oh my god! You have a date!”

“…maybe. So?”

“So that means I get to meet and terrorize them! You know, sibling stuff!”

Pavitr froze for a split second, a small smile starting to form in the corner of his mouth at the last part. Siblings. In all honesty, didn’t that word describe the bond you both shared almost perfectly? Siblings - not by blood, but by something so much bigger than either of you could’ve imagined.

“Absolutely not. Gayatri’s-”

“Gayatri? Is she Punjabi? Ooh, is she pretty? Is she really badass and cool and-”

“She’s a model,” Pavitr interrupted, smoothing down his hair and glaring at you. “And this isn’t my first date with her. Just for the record.”

“Wow, and she’s your age? Damn, Pavi, you managed to pull a model! I’m so proud of you right now.”

“I will strangle you if you don’t stop talking,” Pavitr grumbled, punching the bridge of his nose.

“I’m not saying anything bad!”

“Sure you ar-” Pavitr stopped mid-sentence and stiffened, craning his neck and glancing out the window over his shoulder like a cat that had heard something strange. “Wait, someone’s here. Gotta go!”

He dashed into the bathroom and came out two seconds later, fully decked out in his spider suit and mask.

“Don’t get your ass kicked!” You called out as he nose-dived out the window.

“Ha, ha! Very funny!”

——— ———

10 minutes later.

“Pavitr, what the hell?!” You leaped backwards as a strange sort of alien materialized in your room for a split second before they disappeared into a black hole-like void, followed by a… Spider-Man? Not Pav. This one was taller and his suit was red and black, and oh God, was he bleeding from his armpits?

You were tempted to offer him a few cotton wipes and something to clean the wound but he disappeared in after the weird teleporting alien before you could ask.

Pavitr came crashing in through your window, landing on the floor and glancing around. “What? I thought they came here-”

“Really?! Now you show up? I’ve just had some sort of cow-man and a new Spider-Man teleport into my room through a pit and-” You stopped short as another Spider-Man landed on the floor. Except… Spider-Woman? She wore a suit in the shape of a white-and-black ballet leotard and had a hood with web designs on the inside.

“Pavitr, is… this Gayatri?” You tried to wrap your head around the fact that there were three different types of Spider-People and a cow on the wrong side of evolution who had just phased through your house. “Oh, hi, Gayatri, I’ve heard so much about you. Pavi thinks you’re really classy and cool and you’re the prettiest girl alive and-”

Pavitr webbed a pillow and swung it into your face before you could finish, temporarily shutting you up. “Didi, this… this isn’t Gayatri.” Despite his face being covered by his mask, you could tell from his tone that he was embarrassed out of his wits. “This is, uh… this is Gwen. She’s a Spider-Woman. Look, it’s hard to explain, but they’re all from different universes and I think the New Guy’s in love with Gwen, so we gotta go save their romance before it shatters. Bye!”

He leaped out the window again, followed by Gwen - who was stuttering and tripping over her words trying to form a plausible denial for his last statement.

Never a dull day in Mumbattan, I guess.

——— ———

5 minutes after that ordeal.

“Arrey, your chai is getting cold. Drink fast, no?”

“Haan, Amma. Ek second.” (One second) You moved away from where you were hovering near the window. As much as Pavitr reassured you that he was okay, that being Spider-Man was easy now - you still remembered having to disinfect wounds and ice bruises and watch him hiss and crinkle his face up in pain every time you wiped a tissue soaked in Dettol along his cuts.

Maybe those were only fairly harmless flesh wounds, but what kept you up at night was the worry that one day it might turn into something worse.

“I’m drinking it,” You said defensively and sat down as Maya Aunty lifted an eyebrow at you over her own mug. Just as you sat down the whole ground seemed to shake, a horrible din filling the air, screams and the sound of rubble falling mingling together in the cacophony.

“Oh, someone blew down Alchemax,” said Maya Aunty once the noise died down. With a small shake of her head, she casually returned to her chai as if this sort of thing happened almost every day.

“What an idiot.” You glanced out the window, squinting into the distance and widening your eyes as your eyes snagged on a flash of vibrant fabric flying through the air, just barely visible through the pieces of flying rubble.

Oh, fuck, that’s my idiot.

——— ———

You figured the easiest and fastest way to get near Alchemax was to take the bus. After all, those bus drivers had basically decided long ago that they were above the rules of the traffic. They honestly didn’t give a damn about the speed limits and you respected that.

“Hi, Y/N!” You turned at your name, tilting your head curiously because you didn’t recognise the voice.

You found yourself looking at someone who looked oddly familiar, you just couldn’t place it - until you glanced briefly out the window and saw a Zomato billboard. Of course if had to be her, how else would she know your name?

“Oh, are you Gayatri? Hi! It’s so nice to meet you, I’ve heard so much about you from Pavi.”

“Aww, that’s sweet, and likewi-“

The bus swerved sharply and you, Gayatri and more than half of the people who weren’t holding onto the railings were slammed against the back window before the bus started to tilt forward. You blinked away stars for a few seconds as the wind was knocked out of you.

When you regained your vision you let out a yelp of surprise. Someone yelled “Fuck!” right next to you, followed by a string of unrepeatable Marathi cusswords - while also listing out gods and praying to them that they’d make it out alive - and you could understand why.

Some dumbass - or maybe a large piece of rubble - had ripped a hole in the middle of the fucking Mumbattan Bridge. The whole bus was falling right into that hole, and unfortunately the bus driver’s magical ability to fly straight over potholes seemed to have evaded him right now, judging by the fact that he was currently contributing to the chorus of terrified screams.

“Hold on!” Gayatri caught your forearm right as your grip on the flimsy side railing was loosening and pulled you up to latch onto the railing at the back. Good lord, was this girl strong. You decided right then and there that you definitely liked her.

You saw Pavitr stop mid-swing and turn around, his mask’s eyes widening as he saw both of you pounding relentlessly on the back bus window in the hopes that it would break in time.

He shot a web that stuck to the back of the bus, tipping it almost vertically as he held onto one of the bridge supports. His eyes narrowed with effort as he struggled to hold onto the deceptively delicate-looking silky tendrils.

You silently thanked whatever higher power existed for the time when Pavitr fell from the ceiling 6 months ago. If that hadn’t happened, you and the other people on this bus would’ve been flattened on the ground by now. Don’t look down, don’t look down, don’t look down.

Pavitr glanced behind him, his shoulders falling slightly in shock. The web holding onto the bus stretched and dipped, threatening to snap any second. He wrapped the silken web around the support, trying to bring it up.

You and Gayatri were just barely hanging on, your entire bodies dangling down with gravity as you held onto the railing for dear life.

Suddenly something changed. Another web attached itself to the bus and pulled you onto the bridge. Another Spider-Man, possibly?

You let out the breath you hadn’t realized you had been holding as the bus levelled itself on solid ground again. Gayatri gave you a weak smile, grasping your hand and pulling you straight into the throng of people rushing to exit the bus.

The moment she stepped outside Pavitr wrapped her in a hug, eliciting a surprised squeak from Gayatri.

“Are you okay? I was so worried-” He realized his mistake mid-sentence, drawing back from her and patting her shoulders with both hands, unsure whether to cross his arms or rest them on his hips. “Uh, you seem like a nice young woman who I do not know…”

Gayatri chuckled softly and looked past him. “Papa!”

“Gayatri!”

She ran at him and he wrapped his arms around her tightly. Seeing their bond warmed your heart but also made it ache slightly with the acceptance that that could never happen to you with your own father.

“Real smooth, Pavi,” You grinned at your brother, who grumbled something under his breath and closed the distance to crush you in a hug.

“Shush, didi. I just saved your ass.”

“Yeah, I suppose you did.” You ruffled his hair affectionately and pulled back, smiling at the growing shouts of ‘dhanyavadh, makhdi-bhaiya!’. (Thank you, Spider-Guy!)

“Amma’s going to kill you, by the way. She thinks you snuck out to go to some p-”

You let out a soft mmph as you collided with possibly the boniest person you had ever had the misfortune of bumping into. You were pretty sure you had just got stabbed in seven different places by various joints.

“Sorry, I didn’t-” You paused as you looked up, taking in spikes, a leather vest, pins, a guitar, and mask eyes which looked like running mascara.

“Holy shit, you’re really cool.”

The Spider-Man variant blinked in surprise and let out a laugh. “Why, thank you, poppet. I try. Pisses the fascists off so much that they call me Spider-Punk.”

You heard the twang of a well-known (almost infamous, at least in Mumbattan) accent and glanced at Pavitr. “He’s British,” He confirmed, giving Hobie a high-five.

“Well, I don’t care. He looks awesome.”

“Oi, Pav, I like this one.” He gave you an appreciative fist-bump, and you lifted your eyebrows at the sheer size difference between both of your hands.

“That’s my sister.”

“Makes sense. But you know I didn’t mean it like that. She seems cool is all.”

“Wait. If you’re British, can you do us a favour and steal back the Kohinoor? Please?”

“I’ll try my best, but I can’t make any promises. Fuckin’ Sweeney*, I doubt they even know where it’s kept.” (*Sweeney/Sweeney Todd - Cockney rhyming slang for Flying Squad [the police])

You nodded along politely with a smile like you actually understood even one word of that sentence. “Well, okay, in that case-”

You turned and almost burst out laughing. Pavitr looked like he was on the losing end of a staring contest, his hand almost engulfed in Inspector Singh’s much bigger one. Gayatri stood behind him, looking between them in awe. “I’ve never seen him so emotional.”

“Excellent job.”

Your bother just gave a nod, but knowing Pavitr he was internally over the moon and would hold that simple statement close to his heart, insisting that his girlfriend’s dad “loved him”.

“Man-like Miles, my guy!” Hobie grabbed the red and black Spider-Man - Miles’ - shoulders and shook him excitedly, punching him lightly as the people of Mumbattan started cheering.

You were about to join in when something happened. Well, not happened, really, but… something felt off somehow. You had read something once that said a person’s hair stands on end as a warning when lightning’s about to strike. You imagined that’d feel like you you were feeling right now. And you could hear whistling… was that sound just your ears being weird?

The cheers died down suddenly and you turned around too late. One of those portal-holes, slicing through the air like a deadly frisbee, slammed into you and knocked you inside in such a way that you got teleported straight off the side of the bridge. You scrabbled for the supports, but to no avail as you sailed right past them.

You heard Pavitr’s panicked yell, the sounds of confused and worried chatter bubbling among the ground, and the air rushing around in your ears as you free-fell.

You can’t save me, you realized as you saw Pavitr dive off the bridge, reaching out his wrist in preparation of shooting a web. You won’t get here in time. You focused on mouthing the next few words that came to your mind, because if you were going to die and leave your brother you would do so by reminding him that he was - and always would be - loved. Pavi, I’m sorry. I love you. I always will.

Your stomach dropped and your head spun - but by some mercy you didn’t feel the final impact.

——— ———

Pavitr’s POV.

“No, no no no- please, please no-”

Pavi, I’m sorry.

I love you.

Six words. Six words which shouldn’t be used in the same sentence. Those two sets separately, sure, but in very different scenarios.

Those would not be the last words you said to him. They couldn’t be.

Time seemed to slow down, making his movements sluggish and hazy. He stretched his wrist out till it ached, silk erupting from his - no, your - kaada. Come on, come on…

The silk shot toward you and for a second he thought it would reach in time.

Then he heard a crash and watched you fall straight through the flimsy tin roof of an abandoned warehouse. “No!”

He landed after you, shooting a web at a street lamp and pulling up to break the built-up momentum at the last second. Kicking down the warehouse door, he rushed over to your limp form, sprawled across a few empty crates in the dimly lit space.

“Nonono you have to stay with me, please don’t go, I can’t-” Pavitr swallowed hard as he picked you up and set you down with your back against the wall, holding up your jaw so your head didn’t fall forward. He snapped his fingers in front of your face two, three times - no response.

He could feel his vision starting to blur, heart practically causing an earthquake as he shakily put his finger to the pulse point on your neck.

Nothing.

“No,” He whispered into the still air, as if that would be able to revive someone who was so much more than just a cousin. You were his sister, his closest and most annoying friend, his anchor. You were supposed to be a constant in his life. If you were gone… what would go next?

He wasn’t sure how long he sat there, cradling your lifeless body in his arms. But after a little while Hobie dropped in through the hole in the ceiling, and Miles and Gwen came in through the door. He didn’t understand anything they were saying. Pavitr felt like he was underwater, the cold, murky silence filling his ears and bleeding into his brain.

Someone else, much bigger than him tried to drag him away. Someone wearing a beige police uniform and a turban. He kicked and fought, screaming at them that they didn’t understand, he couldn’t leave you, this wasn’t how it was supposed to end. That you were going to wake up soon. You were only unconscious, after all. You had to wake up sometime.

You had to, right?

Pavitr watched as you were placed on a stretcher, a white cloth laid over your body. He slumped in the hands of whoever was struggling to drag him away as all his hopes of you waking up splintered into a million pieces. Pieces that he would step on and trip over and they would cut his skin a billion times. Little tiny paper cuts. Paper cut after paper cut, till he bled out.

Through whatever shocked haze his brain was forcing itself into, he knew that something inside him had broken. Duct tape could fix it. Duct tape could fix anything. Was this metaphor for something? His brain really needed to slow down, he couldn’t keep up with what was and what wasn’t fixable with a single roll of duct tape.

He pictured his heart, the muscles and blood vessels torn clean through in the centre, forming a hole in the shape of you. Did it stop beating? It felt like it stopped beating. Was there a way to check if he was still alive? He hoped he was. Though there didn’t feel like much reason to be. Not anymore, at least.

Oh. Maya Aunty. Someone would have to tell Maya Aunty. No, he would have to tell Maya Aunty.

Two funerals in the span of 6 months. Two core members of the family gone.

Twin flames burning warm and bright, always lighting up the entire place with their own unique luminosities, until they couldn’t anymore. The wicks were extinguished and the candles melted into stumps before their time.

The Spot knew exactly what he was doing, Pavitr realized. Because he might as well have set fire to his entire home.

——— ———

15 & still 16.

Pavitr Bhim Prabhakar was many things.

He was Mumbattan’s Spider-Man. He was Maya Aunty’s nephew. He was Gayatri’s boyfriend. He honoured his dead parents with his last name. He carried the legacy of his dead uncle with his middle name alone.

Most of all, he carried the memory of his sister in every scar that he got that day.

Suddenly every moment you had spent with him seemed too little. Even just one of your hugs would take away some of the pain.

Keep them in your heart, they’re watching over you. Recall the memories you made with them.

What did that even mean in this case? You had gone too soon. Dead, cremated at 16. You weren’t even an adult. And what hurt the most was that everything - from your room to your belongings - was exactly how you left it.

It had been almost 3 months and he still hadn’t let anyone change anything in your room. The messy duvet could stay messy. And the pillow that was thrown at the foot of the bed had taken up permanent residence there.

The room smelled like vanilla and honeycomb. And it would stay that way for as long as he could help it. If someone rearranged anything, would that part of you disappear from this house? He didn’t want to find out.

Everything that made this room yours would stay there, it had to. The way you meticulously arranged every makeup and hair product by height, colour and serial order on your chest of drawers. The way your cupboards always smelled of cotton candy because of an essence diffuser your friend had given you.

Gayatri, Miles, Gwen and Hobie had all tried their best to help him, and Margo had even dropped in a few times and offered to play video games with him. And admittedly, he was in a much better frame of mind than how he was only a little while ago.

He sat on the floor, hugging his legs loosely to his chest and clutching a mug of chai in one hand. Pavitr couldn’t say anything even if he wanted to; the altogether lack of the owner of this room made the silence even more oppressive and suffocating.

He stretched his legs out slowly, refusing to let his mind wander. Focus on the wallpaper. Focus on the sound of traffic. Focus on the chai. Focus on anything except the posters, the pillows, the way that it felt like time itself was holding its breath inside this room.

Pavitr’s leg brushed something hidden underneath the rug in front of him. Frowning slightly in confusion, he leaned forward to peer underneath the fuzzy square of fabric - finding nothing but a small notebook and a pen.

He pulled it out and, upon recognizing it, drew in a surprised inhale. The leather-bound cover was dusty and worn out. The label that read Bhim Prabhakar in neatly printed handwriting had been scratched out, jagged words cutting across the paper like tiny knife strokes. His heart squeezed when he read the word written in the second handwriting.

Y/N.

Of course he remembered this book, how could he not? On days when you had noticed he felt sad, you tore out two lined pages of paper and made him write down what was bothering him in a letter.

“Here, Pavi. Write it to anyone you want, and fill it out with everything bad that happened today. You don’t have to send it to them, don’t worry. I’ll even do it with you.”

He still remembered the first time he had done that activity with you. You both sat back-to-back, scribbling down all the ‘yucky feelings’, as you had put it once. Pavitr had finished his letter and surprised you by addressing it to you, twisting around to hand you the folded piece of paper.

You hadn’t addressed your letter yet, so you wrote his name on the top in big block letters.

To: Pavitr Prabhakar.

Because it was a very official document, you had explained solemnly.

And when you took a look at how he had mentioned you, you had lunged forward and trapped him in a bone-crushing hug.

To: The Best Didi In The World.

He felt tears well up slightly as he recalled the amount of times he went and wordlessly sat at the edge of your bed, pointing to the leather journal. And you would pull out two pages, hand him a pen, and sit back-to-back on the floor. Every time, without fail.

Pavitr opened the book, running a hand along the pages of handwritten letters that were unevenly glued or stapled in. Some were tearing at the edges, others had chai-stains or ink splotches.

He carefully pulled out a page - only one this time - and picked up a pen from the mug of stationery on your bedside table.

Pausing to think for a second, he tested the pen on the bottom of the page. Then moved the tip to the first line.

Dear Y/N,

Pavitr stopped and narrowed his eyes at that. It felt strange, almost alien for some reason. A foreign word on these pages.

He tapped his pen on the page as he got an idea. He scratched out the two words he had written, addressing it to someone with a different yet more familiar title, at least to him.

To: The Best Didi In The World.

I know very little about the antyesti process so if anything’s wrong don’t hesitate to correct me! <3

Glossary:

Antyesti - Antyesti literally means "last sacrifice" or "final auspicious ceremony", and refers to the funeral rites for the dead in Hinduism, which usually involves cremation of the body. This rite of passage is the last samskara in a series of traditional life cycle samskaras that start from conception in Hindu tradition.

Saree/Sari - A saree is a garment consisting of a length of cotton or silk elaborately draped around the body, traditionally worn by women from South Asia. It is usually worn with a blouse that exposes part of the midriff, but blouse styles can vary.

Dupatta - A length of material worn arranged in one or two folds over the chest and thrown back around the shoulders, typically with a salwar kameez or a kurta, worn by women from South Asia. (Srry guys u have to look up those two definitions if ur curious,, it’s better to see how it looks rather than read a description anyway)

Kancha - Kancha is played by using marbles. It is popular in small Indian cities and villages, among small boys only as a gully sport. It is rarely played by girls. The participant has to hit the marble kept in a circle. If he hits the target properly, he wins. The winner gets the kancha (maybe kanche is the plural form? idk) of the other participant boys.

Lagori/Pithoo/Seven Stones - Lagori is a traditional game from the Indian subcontinent. It involves a pile of stones and a ball.

A member of one team (the seekers) throws a ball at a pile of stones to knock them over. The seekers then try to restore the pile of stones while staying safe from the opposing team's (the hitters’) throws. The hitters' objective is to hit the seekers with the ball before they can reconstruct the stone pile. If the ball touches a seeker, that seeker is out and the team which the seeker came from continues, without the seeker. A seeker can always safeguard themselves by touching an opposite team member before the ball hits the seeker.

@hobiebrownismygod @l0starl @therealloopylupin2099 @vhstown

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lilyrachelcassidy · 2 years

Note

Hi! How are you?

How about tommy shelby being in a marriage with a younger reader , who he often cheats with lizzie , the reader starts living life with parties , friends , shopping and affairs of her own , tommy falls for her but she always rejects his affections .

I never saw something like tjat and i tought it would be interesting

Thank you!

[Additional] summary: Five stages in which Y/N tried to make amends in her relationship with Tommy but failed miserably.

Word Count: 5.7k

Warnings: coarse language, cheating, mentions of alcohol and drugs, some graphics, ANGST (with happy ending my babes)

Distant

I. rancor

When he opened the front door to their house, midnight walloping on the wall clock, Y/N could immediately tell where Tommy had been. He soon walked into their bedroom, the place that had carried so many memories along with it, good memories actually, those of the time before their relationship had begun to deteriorate. Tommy would stain them now when he would dare to come back to her after the hours' bash, reeking of cigars and courtesans.

The one courtesan she had in particular on the mind - bloody Lizzy.

The envious, little bitch would do anything to demolish the beautiful bond Tommy and her shared, barging and creating a wall of interspace with the last cell of her bloody existence between the two of them. Y/N knew, at the same time, she wasn't barking up the wrong tree and her assumptions about Lizzy were indeed correct; her nostrils could detect a cheap, rancid scent of Lizzy's perfume from miles. And when Tommy would come up late at night, the same scent was invasively clinging to his body, the smell almost smothering for Y/N.

"Are you asleep?" asked Tommy, innocently, as if he had just returned from something that lacked culpability that he was actually dealing with. Taking off his garments, leaving only briefs on, he crawled over to her side of the bed. His breath was huffing down her neck, softly and gratifyingly, but the only thing Y/N could think about was that the mere hours before, it was at somebody else’s neck.

Or other parts of the body Y/N wouldn’t like to think about.

“No, not yet,” she replied, deceptively faking a sweet tone. “Where have you been for such a long time?”

His body tensed marginally, something most people wouldn’t have noticed but a flinch that had become indicative for Y/N within three years. Maybe Tommy could be an excellent master of counterfeiting emotions but his body signs would divulge the truth, guilt stiffening his movements in the slightest.

“Have been off to work with Arthur. Had to deal with Solomons’ people.” He was forging himself under a duvet with her now, one of his arms coiling around her waist.

Y/N’s heart sank; maybe a naive part of her still believed that he wouldn’t lie. “Oh, okay.”

“What have you been up to today?”

And then she told him about the hard way she had tried to busy herself in the vast, barren mansion: she had written some bits for the new novel she had been working on for a couple of months; she had responded to some of his relatives from the extended family who had asked for urgent contact; she had quaffed enormous amounts of coffee while watching the enchanting landscape spreading before their house. She decided to omit the parts when she had felt so lonely, no friends nor family members caring enough to pay a visit, her only companion being Mary - their maid - who owned a rather stiff lip.

In utter earnest, she wished to run away some days, bolting like a stallion in the center of overwhelming grassland and never looking back.

“I was thinking,” Y/N took up again. “Maybe we could go to dinner tomorrow? A new restaurant has been recently opened - ‘L'Arpège’, it’s called. It’s French and I thought-”

“I can’t,” Tommy interrupted, his voice cold but guilty at the same time. “I have a meeting tomorrow... with some clients.”

“Oh...” Another surge of disappointment pierced through her. “May I come with you then?”

“You know, I’d love you to come. It’s just that...” He started fidgeting with words - an attempt to think up an excuse, Y/N realized quickly. “It’s a late-night meeting, Y/N, I just... wouldn’t want to drag you into that. There will be a lot of men, dangerous men. I just think it would be better if... you stayed out of it.”

‘So Lizzy could join you?’ Y/N thought to herself.

She really couldn’t determine what was boiling in her. Anger? Disappointment? She had been far over that emotional state of actually caring for his fabrications after the first time she had caught him cheating, sitting in the pub, his arms tangled around the woman she had learned to abhor.

From that time she had felt numb, indifferent to what he would say. So why, why would those little pangs of pain still sting her so badly, stripping her from the last remnants of dignity?

“I understand,” she said, her voice uncontrollably lower.

“I’m glad you do. So how about I arrange a horse ride for you tomorrow? I’m sure Curly would-”

“I’m okay, Tom. I’ll manage,” Y/N said quickly, butting in, somehow aggressively. But she didn’t pay too much mind to her outburst, really, as unconscious tears started brimming in her eyes. She couldn’t fall apart; not now, not before him. “Goodnight.”

“’Night.”

After a few hours, Y/N was still awake. Sulky tears already settled, their wet traces desiccating on her skin.

Irrepressibly, she wondered what it would be like to free herself from that agony.

Perhaps, there was the only way to find out.

II. replay (three month earlier)

Y/N was walking down the dim-lit, dungy alley making her way over to The Garrison pub, where Tommy was carrying some business meeting with Arthur and Polly.

She wished to make a surprise for Tommy with her arrival, mollifying his work time with her come-up. After all, he had been working so hard those recent days, returning to their home at bizarrely late hours, his face smudged with weariness and lethargy. Y/N pitied him, really, and had hoped to help him with swarms of paperwork; but he would never accept her offer, always explaining that he wouldn’t want to interlace her with his job.

And she understood.

His attitude towards her had changed too; he wouldn’t be that kind, considerate man she used to remember back in the days. Instead, he was pensive and aloof, and no longer would he try to make those little romantic gestures he used to in the beginnings of their relationship. Y/N didn’t blame him, however; she could tell that he was overworked and perhaps occupied with the assemblage of duties he had on his mind.

Nevertheless, that didn’t discourage her from trying to ease his time. She had a whole plan set in her head - promptly, she would get him out of the meeting, excusing his withdrawal with some urgent family case. Then, they would go over to the bank of the river - the place of their first meeting - and would sit at one of the close-by benches, the pale lantern light irradiating while they relished watching the river water glistening in the moonlight. They could munch on a couple of cookies, Tommy’s favorites, which Y/N had prepared especially for him...

Almost nearing the pub, Y/N sighed at the thought. She could already see the luminous lighting of the place, silhouettes casting shadows, contrasting against the dark streets of the gloomy area. The light sound of chatter and drunken jabber could be heard from that distance, livening the rest of the deadly neighborhood that was probably asleep.

Y/N was humming a song under her breath as she approached. A small smile was welcoming her face, the enthusiasm bustling within her. The cookies were pleasantly rattling in her purse as she stopped in her tracks, face to face with the pub window, and she looked in, attempting to spot Tommy in the middle of the teeming crowd.

She scanned the insides of the room: so many familiar faces she used to come upon so many times. They were all laughing and chanting, beer pints happily cradled in their hands, apparently enjoying their heedless time. Y/N’s gaze traveled further, slowly and carefully, over to a distant corner - Arthur was sitting there, laughing at something John had murmured into his ear, the contents of his pint dangerously rocking from one side to another; next to him were also Polly, guffawing, Finn, Ada, and...

Oh, what the fu-

Y/N’s heart spun at an unexpectedly fast pace and dropped into her stomach. Not sure whether she was seeing properly, Y/N pinched herself on the arm, checking if what was displaying just before her eyes was real - but indeed, Tommy was rested on one of the very seats of the mushy sofa. One of his arms was tightly wrapped around Lizzy, from what she knew his secretary, tugging her over to his side, their bodies menacingly close to one another.

For just a moment, Y/N thought - no, hoped - that perhaps she was hallucinating, her tiredness hazing the reality from her. Maybe she was overthinking that. Maybe it was just a friendly hug, Tommy’s drunken stupor rendering him more neglectful of holding his usual, cold composure towards the others.

But she was wrong, she realized, when Tommy leaned towards Lizzy, his grip tightening on her arm, eyes sparkling and warm. And he kissed her, passionately, not the way he would use to do that with Y/N now. His lips zealously landed on Lizzy’s, the hungry desire detectable in the action. Visibly, he was enjoying himself, and so was Lizzy whose hands were roving all over his body, eventually stopping at his head and playing with some random strands of his silky hair.

Y/N's heart was going a million miles an hour, and she suddenly felt it difficult to swallow. Her mouth went dry, and there was a lump of a fist size in her throat. Bitter tears quickly started accumulating in her eyes, and she swore she couldn’t breathe for a moment. All she wanted was to curl into a little ball on the swampy floor and lie there forever.

Instead, she just stared into the window, not taking in whatever she had just witnessed in front of her. The tears were streaming down her face, her eyes becoming puffy within seconds.

So he was cheating. For how long? And why?

Was it because of her? Had she done something wrong?

All of the thoughts gushed into her head like a flowing waterfall, and Y/N hated herself for having that much negativity garnered in her.

Clasping the hand on her mouth and preventing a nasty gasp from escaping from it, she turned away rapidly and ran away from the place. She was taking long strides, wishing to be back at home and able to writhe under a warm blanket, crying until the emotions were sucked out of her. Little was she aware of where she was heading as the tears fogged her vision, the flux of despair washing over her.

He had stopped caring.

He was indifferent towards hurting her, and so naively did she believe in his lies, vindicating him from his get-together with Lizzy.

She had trusted him. And now, she hated herself for being far too gullible.

III. rust

“You sure you wanna do this?” asked Isaiah, his fingers toying with the hem of Y/N’s skirt. His eyes were fully dilated in lust, and he was probably just asking as a matter of precaution, inspecting whether Y/N was actually serious about her quest and whether the revolt against his boss was worth it.

She nodded fervently. “Yes, I am.”

It was all about to begin - tit for tat Tommy had triggered her to do. Within months that had lacked intimacy and communication, Y/N had learned to become impassive. If he didn’t need her, nor did she need him.

“And Tommy won’t find out, yeah?” he asked.

She nodded, breathing deeply. “Certainly.”

At that, he tilted slightly and planted kisses all over her neck, his minty breath tickling the hair on her skin. “As you wish,” he whispered into her ear, his tone shoving a couple of steamy images in her head.

Y/N wasn’t sure if that was what she actually wanted. A part of her, the more moral one, told her warningly that whatever she was intending to do was not good and unfair towards her husband to whom she had sworn unconditional commitment. The other side, however, justified her motives; if he could act promiscuously, why couldn’t she? She really couldn’t decide how to feel.

In the meantime, Isaiah was just casting off his shirt and carefully unbuttoning Y/N’s blouse. He was in the midway of taking care of their clothes, clearly unbothered with keeping up loyalty to his boss. His lips, more chapped than Tommy’s, were all over her skin, igniting a great passion in every place he kissed. The soft moans were slipping from her lips while she laid underneath him, the pressure of his weight making her pleasantly warm.

When Y/N encountered Isaiah for the first time was during one of the Peaky Blinders’ gatherings that Tommy had called up in their house. Of course, one of the participants of it had been Lizzy too, though she had restrained from throwing herself at Tommy in Y/N’s presence.

But Y/N had noticed their sneaky glances from across the room and the fueling smirks on their lips. That was all confirmation Y/N had had to receive.

At that moment, she hadn’t been thinking clearly, plainly acting on her impulses - after the meeting, she had secretly grabbed Isaiah by the robes and hauled him to the guest room where they had made out until the air was sucked out of them. She hadn’t felt guilt nor shame, only a sweet taste of vengeance coursing through her body.

Today was their fourth get-together. Yet it was somehow different than the previous times - they had never crossed the level of carnality other than kissing and touching.

Blame was margining with her reasonable thinking and acutely reminding her that she could be so over that jealousy; she didn’t need to do that to herself in order to punish Tommy. At least for her, she did punish him in her mind.

‘But he cheated too,’ Y/N told herself. ‘So it’s an eye for an eye, basically.’

Isaiah’s mouth was on her belly now, a growl rumbling in his chest, and he was placing kisses all the way from her breasts to her abdomen, the intense want pooling in her lower parts. Y/N found herself reaching down to wrap her fingers in his black hair, gripping roughly and arching her back. The tension within her was unbearable.

His eyes flickered up to meet Y/N’s gaze once more, briefly, asking for the ultimate permission to take her tongs off. The breath was heaving in both of them, their chests falling and raising to the intermittent heartbeats.

“Do it. Please.”

IV. ravage

“Hello, love,” said Tommy, cheerfully, entering the threshold of the office where Y/N was currently working on her novel. A moss woolen sweater was enfolding her arms, gray sweatpants pulled on and strapped around her waist; the homy outfit she would wear only around the house and still manage to look absolutely glamorous. Her hair was twisted in a loose bun, the glasses sitting on the bridge of her nose with a seamless dose of sophistication.

She gave him a half-smile when he approached her, pecking her cheek, but didn’t tear her gaze away from the typewriter where a virtually written page was scurrying to the last dot. Her fingers were briskly flying from one button onto the next one, and when she was finished, she purred in gratification and riveted to her husband.

“Done?”

“Yes.” She stretched her arms above her head, smiling, whereas Tommy leaned on the verge of the desk. “A good day too?”

He nodded in response, a faint smile gracing his lips. “So I was thinking, maybe we should go to that restaurant you were talking about earlier,” he said, without preamble, his tone disclosing a certain assertion, not a hint of invitation Y/N wished for.

He wasn’t asking her out; he was informing her of his plans with her.

A lava slide of anger and resentment swept away her rationality. How the fuck could he kick her around like that, ill-treating her for a couple of weeks, and then deciding on what she should do after Lizzy had probably met up with her other client, consequently cock-blocking him? There was that particular self-assurance with which Tommy had told her, or ‘offered’ her, a dinner that had tossed her patience aside; she wasn’t his possession after all. And she wanted to make a fair point out of that.

Something in her expression apparently crumpled because Tommy was ogling her with interested eyes, a wary eyebrow raised in query. “What do you think of that?”

“Oh, so now you’re asking,” said Y/N in a huff.

He frowned. “What are you on about?”

Unsuccessfully thwarting herself from a word vomit, she stood up so that her face could level up with Tommy’s, her eyes raging. His, on the other hand, were confused and in no apparent cognition of the upcoming tantrum. “In the last weeks, you did nothing to acknowledge our relationship. To acknowledge me. All I did was try to go out with you, or do something together, whatever you wanted. But instead, you dismissed all of that. And I don't understand why it’s so bloody difficult for you to include me in your life.” She took a pause, eyes filming over with hands flinging all over the place. “And now you are inviting me - no - telling me, that you decided to finally find some spare time for me. Oh, how generous of you.”

“You know the company is giving me a hard time. I go the extra mile to make things work, and that’s your effing gratitude?” he said angrily, and now with a hint of indignation tainting in voice.

“Oh please, give me a break,” she snapped, even more furious and glaring. As never, or at least never in front of her, Tommy’s face was incandescent, and his jaw popping from all the heavy clenching. “I saw you with Lizzy back in the days, snogging back in the pub. Were you working then too?”

He blinked, thunderstruck, his mouth opening as if he wanted to say something but lacked words for that. The steely glare was locked on Y/N, perhaps transfixed with how he should respond to the crude truth he had no idea his wife had found out about. Ultimately, he pressed his lips together and took a step forward. “Perhaps if you weren’t so incongruous and childish, maybe I wouldn't need Lizzy for anything. And not behaving like a fuckin’ nun, Y/N.”

Ouch. It stung her.

Awfully, as though he had slapped her with full force.

Or maybe that would have hurt less.

Y/N took a step back, tears of rage and frustration trickling down her face. So there he was: pinning the responsibility of his infidelity on her, absolute dearth of shame for calling his wife out and, in lieu, defending his slip with the woman who had been mounting him for no other reason but money. She felt a dull ache in her chest, and her body stiffened. Evidently aware that he had crossed the line, his eyes changed back, the distinctive traces of regret in them. His arm lifted and, for a moment, attempted to take a hold of her hand as a form of placation. But she pushed him away, the spleen raising in her chest. “I’m going back to my parents’.”

“Y/N,” he began, strained, trying to get a hold of her but in vain. She just shook her head and retreated, doing her best to prevent herself from spilling any tears for him.

“Don’t fucking try to contact me. I’m gonna leave and... and-”

“Y/N.” His tone was pleading now, and so were his eyes. He tried to reach for her again but met with another compulsion of rebuff. “I’m so so-”

“Shut it!”

Without bothering to give him a second glance and afraid that he would see how much the conversation had shaken her, she turned on her heel and dashed out of the room. Not completely conscious of what she was doing, she headed to the wardrobe to fetch some of her belongings.

Tommy didn’t chase her, and mindfully so. She wasn’t able to face him right now after what he had told her; so, he had thought Lizzy better. In shade of the relationship, she hadn’t known that she had been razing.

Her shoulder stiffed at the thoughts in her mind, horror and moroseness coursing through her body.

If he really had enough of her, she won’t be a burden for him anymore. She will happily retreat.

V. recovery: a new start

It had been two months since Y/N had last heard from Tommy. Yes, against her plea not to, he had tried to contact her. And yes, he had arrived at her parents’ doorstep a dozen times. But her family was supportive of her and the resolutions she had made, accordingly dismissing Tommy from their house.

The fact was that Y/N reckoned living with her parents as a tad shaky and inconvenient - after all, she had to obey the prevailing rules they had in their household (which some Y/N had thought ridiculous for plentiful reasons). Their watchful and condescending remarks weren’t a charm either. At the same time, however, she felt like she finally unchained herself from the venomous aura of the Mansion she had inhabited a while ago; and it hadn’t felt like home to her anymore.

And so she enjoyed her old childhood room she had left behind years ago, chalk-white walls still reminding her of the times she had drawn at them with the crayons, to enlighten the area.

Y/N was laying face-down on the satin, pukey-pink sheets, a rumbling in her stomach reminding her that she hadn’t had any breakfast yet (although, it was already afternoon). Nose pressed to the pillow, she mentally braced herself for today’s plans - proffered by her father, they had to drop in at the Mansion to fix the rest of the clothing she had abandoned.

Obviously, it wasn’t a very pleasant thought to say at least; but if she wanted to move forward, perhaps start a new chapter of her life she close the preceding one. And she wanted to do both so badly.

The doors cracked while flinging wide open and Y/N’s mom walked into the room.

“Why aren’t you out of bed yet? Are you alright?”

“Yes, ma, don’t worry about that,” she said while staking out a sitting position. She covertly glanced over at her mom who was standing in the door frame, her attire absolutely irreproachable with a corsage, her face genuinely worried.

“Crying again, were you, Cherie?” Had she? Y/N hadn’t noticed before until now when her hand touched the tear-stained face. “We can talk about that if-“

“Ma, no, please. I’ve been over that,” she said, her lip subconsciously letting out a small tremble. “I…just don’t want to talk… about him.”

Mom’s eyes were sympathetic and her mouth was moving, but Y/N had muffled all the sounds coming from the peripherals with her torrent of thoughts. She had been through that so many times; Mom, usually at the end of the day, would attempt to approach the topic in many ways. Y/N would always deny it, however, deciding that it was still far too hurtful to discuss him.

As the three o’clock was rounding, Y/N was already sitting in the rear of the car with her father behind the wheel. They had barely exchanged any word throughout the entire journey as Y/N tried to deal with her volley of emotions - anxiousness, itching dejection, a jot of bitterness? She couldn’t decide, really. But she was keenly aware of a fist-size lump forming in her throat and a sharp ache expanding in her chest.

Before Y/N could notice, a stream of tears was freely rushing down her cheeks. She secretly tried to wipe them off but she knew that her father had caught sight of her emotional outburst in the rear-view mirror. Yet he made no comment to which Y/N was extremely thankful.

“Here we’re sweetheart,” said Father after another half an hour had slipped. Y/N shortly glanced out of the window - indeed, the stony, colossal walls of the mansion were spreading before their sight. Y/N had to quell an instantaneous urge to run away as she slowly, carefully reached for the handle and reluctantly stepped out of the car.

“I’ll be here, yeah? In case you need me.”The Father’s voice distinctly echoed in her ears but Y/N only heard that like through a haze. She merely sent him a grateful smile in response and silently received his form of succor.

‘It’ll all be gone in a few minutes,’ Y/N thought to herself, trudging towards the entrance of the Mansion. So many times had she passed that threshold, so many times had she walked that way. Was it all going to become nothing but a remote memory now?

Soon, she was heavily knocking on the door and was faced with her former maid’s smile who, with a hand gesture, was welcoming her and spurring her to come inside. After a moment of waver, Y/N finally gave in.

Strangely, she had expected the maid to show her a way to the bedroom because she didn’t belong there, not anymore; she was just trespassing like a mere guest did. But when the maid remained at the door, staring at her with a curious eye, Y/N understood the allusion - she was meant to go by herself.

And so she did.

Those stately oil paintings were still strewing the white walls and as Y/N plodded and plodded on through the high-celling halls. Her heels were almost stridently clicking on the floor, contrasting with the prevailing silence and her heavy breathing. Y/N did her best to focus on something else, anything else that could render her less nervous for the upcoming; she decided on counting.

One, two, three. One, two three...

In the next instant, she was standing in front of the mahogany door of the bedroom. It wasn’t going to be easy, she knew as much. Even if indifferent throughout their relationship, Thomas Shelby was a man of honor after all, and Y/N, certain in her conviction, was sure that he was waiting just behind that very door.

She waited a few more jiffs, bracing herself mentally, before finally swinging the door ajar and instantly beholding him, settled on the edge of the bed, and staring blankly at the brim of the glass he was tightly clutching in his hand. As soon as he heard her, however, his head snapped in her direction and Y/N quickly noticed the bloodshot whites of his eyes mixed with the steeliness of his orbs.

Per usual, top-notch elegance was radiating from him, his fossil-gray suit in an intact state and hair precisely sleeked to the back of his head. He had changed, however; he had become gaunt, so gaunt actually that Y/N could practically make out an outline of his ribs through a thin layer of his white shirt; the bags under his eyes, dark and cavernous, were giving the definite reminder of how much of a good night sleep he had missed out on; the wrinkles on his forehead marginally deepened, giving him an older appearance of what Y/N actually knew to be a true one...

It wasn’t the same Tommy Y/N had memorized the last time. Now he looked positively ghastly and it required a great composure of Y/N from quelling a gasp.

“Y/N,” said Tommy in a hoarse voice. Hadn’t she been a short distance from him, she wouldn’t have heard him at all. He scrambled to his feet at once, never tearing his gaze away from her figure as if in the trance. “Could we talk?”

Y/N wavered. Perhaps if he didn’t look as desperate and if she wasn’t so worried (yes! worried!) by his utterly unhealthy appearance, she probably would have rebuffed. But in lieu, she merely nodded and trotted to the chair opposite the bed.

Sensing a thick air between the two of them, Tommy got up and poured himself an ample slug of whiskey, and after a moment’s consideration, he also asked Y/N to which she declined. He took a few gulps before finally looking at Y/N again.

“I’ve missed you,” he croaked finally, which Y/N knew cost him a great deal since it was particularly hard for Tommy to speak of his emotions. The fingers of his free hand were fidgeting slightly on his knee as Y/N glanced up at him, streaked with utter astonishment. She wanted, so badly, to tell herself that his words didn’t matter anymore, nothing anymore did but it would have been a fat lie. She knew for that fact because it was suddenly extremely hard for her to swallow.

“Er-” She started looking around the room, busing herself with something, deliberately not gazing in his direction. “I’ve come to pick up the rest of my things, Tommy. If you want to atone for anything, I think it’s a little too late now.”

Even Y/N surprised herself that she had managed such a cold, collected tone; in fact, it was the opposite of what she was right now - jittery and emotional.

“Y/N-”

“Please, don’t” She chimed in before Tommy could say anything again. “I don’t want to explain anything. You... you hurt me, Tommy.” It was difficult for her to carry that out loud but when she ultimately did, she felt a thunderbolt of plunging emotions on her chest; and then, the tears began accumulating uncontrollably in her eyes. Quickly, she turned her face to the side, trying to conceal her waterworks, though unnecessarily so.

An uncomfortable grunt issued from Tommy’s throat and he took the next quaff from the glass, waiting for her to get a hold of herself. He had always been massively fazed when girls cried in his presence, even give it his wife of three years. Never had he understood why anyone would display their lack of self-possession in such an ostentatious way.

“Sorry,” said Y/N finally, wiping the residue of her tears with a hand. She sniffed a little, her eyes puffy, and Tommy offered her a silky handkerchief which she gladly accepted.

“That's alright,” said Tommy, giving her a final look of what he hoped was sympathy. “But please, let me just say one thing. Before, you know...”

‘-decide to leave you,” Y/N ended the sentence in her head. The mere prospect of abandoning him now, even though she had deliberated that for long days in her parents' room, was suddenly very suffocating.

With a final sniff, still keeping her gaze downcast, she nodded. After all, even though he had mauled her massively, as much as she could do in a final commemoration of their relationship.

“I’ve never intended on making you feel inferior, Y/N,” admitted Tommy, a flint of guilt flickering in his eyes, his fingers starting to draw nervous patterns on his knee again. As for someone who had always kept themself still, he seemed exceptionally vulnerable right now. “Lizzy - that was a mistake. She was a fuckin’ mistake. I... I...” His voice relatively faltered, and Y/N thought for a second that he might start crying. Thomas Shelby crying - the world was fucking weird. “All I want to say is that I’m sorry. God, if I could have turned back time, it all would have... been different. I don’t want you to fuckin’ leave, Y/N. Those past few months made that excruciatingly lucid to me.”

It was one of those moments in Y/N’s life when she didn’t know what she ought to say or even ought to feel. There was seething anger and hiccuping sadness simmering in the pit of her stomach, her head pounding loudly from all the aggregation of conflicting emotions; but there was a certain self-satisfaction raising within her - it was what she had wanted from the very beginning, making him entreat her for forgiveness, implore to stay.

“Tommy,” Y/N said heavily, her entire body tingling. “You know, I can’t do that.”

And then she looked at him again, his eyes conveying a magnetic force. They were staring at each other for some time, the desperation between the two aloft. It was all as if they were strangers to each other anew.

“Please, let me... make amends for that.”

“Tommy-”

“And I don’t mean that you have to move in with me instantly, tough as much as I’d like that. But... have dinner with me. Tomorrow night. No strings attached, just a casual dinner. In the restaurant that you wanted to visit - ‘L'Arpège’.”

“You... you remembered? After all that time?” Y/N took a dramatic pause there, her brows knitted together and almost pressing into one line. That sudden fact clouted her with a startling force.

“I haven’t been entirely ignorant towards you, Y/N. Some part of me... always looked out for you, you know. Though a better part of me was still a jerk,” he snickered and, not quite able to suppress it, so did his interlocutor. Until just now, she hadn’t been aware of how much she had missed that smile. “So what do you say?”

She noticed how his eyes swiveled with tendrils of hopefulness, how his fingers nervously anticipated her contemplated answer. Rationality, which she was utterly bereft of at that very moment, would have told her to say no; give a wide berth from that shit show. But a piece of her yet girlish tempt to discover that new Tommy who was opening himself in front of her eyes, something he had never done before, would be forcing its way to make things work.

At least, try to put them back in their rough maquette.

Y/N sighed, before bestowing him with a coy smile. “I guess, I can find some time.”

Through fucking thick and thin.

XOXOXOXOX

A/N: my dear sweet sweet anon. hi! i’m fine, thank you. foremost, let me just express my utter self-deprecation, seeing as you have sent that request a long time ago and i’m posting it just now. the work load has plunged on me since the beginning of September and I literally dropped my face off the earth for a couple of weeks. but i hope you understand.

the fic wasn’t entirely as i planned that out because a) it was supposed to be shorter, b) because I'm still lacking some twists that would have made the work even longer. so I reluctantly abstained.

ofc, I always love hearing and talking to y’all, so chat with me, request, ask me the most embarrassing questions in the comment section. whatever. and may i remind you - spooktober?! are we going to do something about that!? (a small hint: yes, we are going to either hold a little event or be graced - somehow - with another chapter of my WIPs). Lovvvvveveeee y’all xoxo

#Tommy shelby x reader #thomas shelby fanfic #thomas shelby #thomas shelby x reader #Tommy shelby #tommy shelby x you #tommy shelby x y/n #thomas shelby x y/n #thomas shelby x you #peaky blinder #lizzie!!!#grr.... i never liked that... woman #plus me trying to refrain myself from using too many expletives which i did anyway #lol

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