#I want Arthur kissing more men

[reorientingtothexdaylight]

My brain is full on cesarthurelise mode

[imagine-to-be-a-pike]

Why did we make Merlin gay as a fandom? We know you guys are stupidly obsessed bi x gay but Merlin literally showed more interest in women than Arthur..Also "Arthur would be so inexperienced with men". Shut up, hes knight, they're all gay. Arthur was perfectly aware of himself, He stared at every guy , HE DEFENDED HIMSELF AGAINST EVERY WOMAN AROUND HIM

Like cmon, Merlin fandom, use your brain sometime

I wouldn't mind it if making Merlin gay didn't often end up feminizing him or make him UwU soft

[f1fantasys]

Lando, you and some other friends are spending the weekend with hiking and camping. But being the clumsy one you kinda slipped and hurt yourself. Lando offer to help you to go back to the tent and you just innocently ask him to massage your feet. At first it’s just an innocent act and Lando purely wants to help as a friend. Until you accidentally moan and it turns him on and the massage is not so innocent anymore. He then promise you it’s just a tip but well… all men do is a lie 😜

TIP-SY

Warnings - explicit smut 😇

Note - this pic has made me FERAL.

F1 summer break meant a parade of different experiences and getaways. As a presenter for Sky, you were quite close to some of the drivers. Lando, in particular, was one of your favorites, though he doesn't know that. You wouldn't say you were close to him, but you'd now been on a fair share of getaways with him and other mutual friends, and it was safe to say that there was an ever-growing sexual tension between he two of you.

The tension met new heights when you went on a ski-trip in Finland last winter break. You'd often catch each other staring at one-another for far too long, share lingering touches, and dance closely with wandering hands while partying, flirting shamelessly through the days and nights. Your mutual friends always teased you both about when you would finally jump each other - anyone could see the pull that gravitated you towards each other, so it was just a matter of time until the line was crossed.

Right now, you both together with Max and P and Arthur and Jade were out at a secluded resort, camping and hiking for 5 days.

Of course since the other two pairs were couples, it meant you and Lando had to share a tent. Probably the push you needed to be honest, so you weren't complaining one bit because god, you wanted him in ways that would be sinful to say out loud.

You'd arrived this morning and had set out for a hike straight away. Thanks to the gods above, you were clumsy. You were walking in front of Lando when you missed a stone and tripped over it, hurting your ankle while doing so.

''Fuck y/n'' he said, rushing to help you up. ''You okay?'' he asked, but his worry faded away when he saw you chuckling to yourself.

''Yeah good, just little miss clumsy, tripped over a fucking tiny stone'' you said, taking his hand to help you stand up.

You thought you were ok, and even managed to walk another 5 minutes until you decided that you were actually not okay, and wanted to head back to the camp.

Lando, being ever the gentleman, literally hoisted you up and threw you over his shoulder to take you back.

''Lan!'' you shrieked, but you gave you no room for argument. Instead, being a cheeky bugger, he playfully smacked your ass before resuming homage on your thighs for the walk back. You were thankful you were facing the opposite direction, so he couldn't see the blush forming on your face.

Once you got back to the tent he gently placed you on your bed.

''Relax. Gonna get us some water and find you an ice pack. Need anything else?'' he asked.

'''I'm good. Thank you Lan, really for bringing me back'' you sincerely told him, your hand lingering with his for longer than it should have before you pulled away and he walked out of the tent.

''Fuck'' you thought to yourself. You were definitely in too deep.

Lando returned not 10 minutes later with a handful of snacks and drinks.

''Lando did you buy the whole supermarket?'' you asked teasingly.

''Oi, I wont share if you tease me like that!'' he said, dropping everything on your bed and smiling at you.

You wanted nothing more than to pull him in for a desperate kiss but you held yourself back.

''So there were no ice packs but I did find this ointment, says to massage it in gently'' he said, sitting down and lifting your feet onto his lap, taking you by surprise.

''Oh you don't have to, I'll do it'' you said, already sitting up and moving your legs out of his hold but his strong hands stopped you from breaking free.

''You're not saying no to a free foot massage, are you?'' he asked. ''One time offer, by the way'' he finished, winking at you.

It wasn't worth arguing further, so you stuck your tongue out at him and said ''fine,'' relaxing back again.

His touch was gently but it felt oh so heavenly, and without realizing it you let out an involuntary moan as you felt the pleasure rip through your body.

He chuckled, though he didn't find it funny one bit. His mind was racing as to what other noises you would make and if they'd sound as good as you just did.

''Feel good?'' he asked.

''Hmm yeah, never better'' you said, eyes closed and smiling.

Lando couldn't get your noise out of his head, and he felt his dick growing harder with each second that past.

A few minutes later you moaned again, and that was his breaking point.

''Y/n'' he said, in warning.

Your breath hitched as he said you name. You cleared your throat and mumbled an apology.

You looked down at him and took a deep breath in. His eyes were shades darker than they were before and he was looking at you with such an intensity.

''Lan'' you cooed, not sure what you wanted him to say or do.

He gently placed your feet back down on the bed and hovered above you, putting all his weight on his hands instead of your body.

Your eyes stayed glued to one another's until he finally stooped low and captured your lips in a swift movement.

You instantly bought your hands to his face, cupping it as he lowered his body so you could finally feel him.

The kiss was messy and desperate, spit already running down both of your chins'.

You moaned again and he pulled back only to whisper ''you don't know what that fucking does to me y/n,'' before he leaned down again and quickly slid his tongue into your mouth, exploring it.

You pulled at his curls which had his moaning in return, smiling through the kiss.

His lips left yours and moved down to your neck, very quickly finding your sweet spot where his bit and sucked at it then soothed it with his tongue.

''Lan'' you said, begging him for more.

''I know babygirl'' he said, his hand snaking down and slipping past your leggings to your core - which was dripping wet by now.

He pulled his head up to look at you again. ''So fucking wet. For me, yeah?'' he asked.

''For you'' you whimpered as your felt him slide his fingers through your folds.

He found your clit and immediately assaulted it bu pinching at pulling at it. By now your moans were obscene, the feeling of his hand down there stimulating to your core.

''More, Lan'' you begged again, biting down on your lower lip before pulling his face back to yours so you could kiss him again.

With ease, he slid two fingers through your entrance at once. Your back arched off the bed and your nails dug into his biceps.

You whimpered again as he set a quick pace, thrusting in and out of you and curling his digits at just the right time to tap the spongy spot inside of you.

''So tight, fuck you're gonna feel amazing around me'' he whispered, adding a third finger to the mix.

You couldn't help but moan at the thought of finally fucking him, but you needed to calm yourself down before getting ahead.

His lips were back on your neck now and you leaned to the side to give him better access, lightly biting at his biceps.

He sped up his pace and you soon felt the all too familiar heat pooling in your stomach.

''I'm close'' you coxed out, breathing increasing.

''Do it'' he mumbled. ''Let it out.''

Lando made his thumb brush against your clit with each thrust and in no time you were releasing all over his fingers, moaning his name through gritted teeth, squeezing your eyes shut.

You panted through your breaths, expecting him to slow down and ride you through your orgasm but if anything, he sped up even more.

''I know you have more in you, come in, y/n'' he said, hiding his head in the crook of your neck and nibbling on your ear.

Your breath hitched again. ''Lan'' was all you were able to get out, and not two minutes later you were gushing all over his fingers again, your throbbing pussy clenching around them which had him moaning with you.

''Fuck'' you let out a breath as he slowed his fingers and pulled them out of you.

He pulled back, looking at you again and took his digits into his own mouth, sucking him clean and moaning at the taste of you.

''My new favorite flavor'' he said, smirking, before kissing you again.

He pulled back for a second to remove you t-shirt, ridding is as well before returning his lips to yours.

Your hands explored his muscle-clad body, internally moaning at how hot he was - physically and mentally.

His hands also roamed your body, stopping at your boobs and giving them a few squeezes before sliding them under your bra and pinching at your nipples.

The action had your back arching, digging your nails into his skin.

Your mind was racing at 1000 miles per hour, trying to catch up to what was happening. A feel of joy and euphoria overwhelming you.

Lando took your bra off completely and you didn't miss the way he licked his lips when he looked at them.

He roughly took one of your nipples into his mouth and sucked and bit at it, earning breathless moans from you as you pulled on his hair, edging him on.

''Fuck, yes, please'' you moaned.

''So fucking perfect angel'' he whispered, rolling your other nipple between his fingers.

He continued his onslaught for a while until you started ti grow impatient. You pussy was desperate, clenching around nothing.

''Lando please'' you begged him. He quickly notes that he loved it when you begged him.

He finally sat back on his knees and looked at you, though the expression you had on your face was not one he was expecting to see.

You weren't looking back at him with lust and desperation, instead you looked confused and constricted.

Rewind - just as you had begged him for more, your mind caught up to what was happening and something clicked. You liked Lando, too much, and you didn't want just a quick fuck.

''Baby?'' he asked.

''Lan, ugh, fuck. I like you too much for just a one time fuck'' you said, slightly shy at your confession and use of words.

His eyes grew wide and he couldn't help but chuckle a sarcastic one.

''You seriously think I want just a fuck from you? Really y/n?'' he questioned.

''I-I'' you started but he cut you off.

''You're fucking blind if you think I don't like you and want to be with you for something real. Fuck y/n you're the most amazing person, and yes i want to fuck you senseless right now, but i want to fuck you senseless everyday, and after that I want to clean you up and cuddle with you and fall asleep with you, and wake up with you!''

Words had left your brain by now so instead you just pulled him down for a feverish, passionate kiss. ''I want all that too'' you said between pecks at his lips the both of you smiling.

Just as Lando was about to pull your leggings down again you stopped him, again.

He pulled back and gave you a questioning look.

''Lan fuck we can't do it now like this, in a tent in the middle of nowhere!'' you blurted out.

''You're joking, right?'' he asked, unable to keep a smile a bay.

You tried to keep a stern face but failed miserably as he ignored you and took your leggings off.

''I'm serious! We can't have our first fuck like this''

Lando groaned. ''Ugh, ok, how about this - just the tip''

''Huh?'' you asked.

''I just let my tip enter you, for now, until your 'content' with the perfect date'' he reasoned.

You took a few seconds to think. You were so desperate for him, but at the same time you were so desperate for everything to be perfect, so maybe him inserting just his tip was a win-win.

''Okay fine'' you said, palming him through his shorts.

His own breath hitched as you pulled down his shorts and freed his aching dick.

You'd always suspected he'd be big. But not this big. You were speechless, thinking how the hell he was gonna fit in you. It stood tall and angry, begging for attention, with precum already dripping out the slit at the top.

''Easy,'' he said, seeing you thinking at a million miles per hour. ''I'll take care of you'' he whispered.

You nodded you head and he settled above you again. He slid his cock through your wet folds numerous times, often stopping at the clit to push against it, as he kissed you for the hundredth time today.

''Please, need you'' you mumbled.

And finally, he entered you. Just feeling his tip was a sore enough stretch, but it felt fucking amazing.

He slid out and pushed in again, hands on your hips to hold you still while your nails were digging into his neck muscles.

''Fuck baby, so tight'' he said, breath faltering each each movement.

''Lan you're so fucking big, feels so good'' you managed to mumble, pulling his lips down to yours for a feverish kiss.

A few thrust later, Lando's eyes turned shades darker. ''Y/n, i need you you. All of you, please'' he begged.

You knew what he meant because you wanted him just as much, and just as you started saying ''Ye-'' yes to him, he bottomed out, thrusting his whole dick into you.

You had no time to react, your breath getting caught into your throat as he was fucking into to at a relentless pace.

''Shit, how are you so fucking tight y/n, feels so good'' you said through gritted teeth.

''Hmm Lando. Fuck. Please. Harder. Give me more'' you begged him again, the pleasure fully taking over the pain and every time you shut your eyes you swear you could see stars.

His face was close to yours, breath mingling with yours and as he tightened his grip on your waist, surely leaving bruises for tomorrow, while you wrapped your legs around him as tight as you could, nails now stretching at his back.

You weren't surprised to already feel the warmth in your stomach building up. ''Lan I'm close'' you warned as he bought his fingers to toy with your clit.

The noises in the tent were obscene, and if anyone were to walk past they'd surely hear both of your pornographic moans and slick bodies slamming each other.

''Let it out'' he said breathlessly, lips violently sucking on your nipples as you pulled on his hair as hard as you could.

In no time you body was shaking underneath him, your juices gushing all over his dick and dripping out of you.

'Fuck me, Lando'' you moaned his name over and over again, praising him.

He didn't slow his movements, instead he quickened his pace further, chasing his own orgasm now as you felt his dick start to twitch and his movements become careless.

''So proud of you, taking me so well. Fucking waited for this day for too long. Not gonna get you go now y/n, you're too fucking amazing'' he said through grunts and moans.

hearing him say that tipped you over the edge again, violently releasing around him again. You let out a series of moans and closed your eyes, rolling them to the back of your head.

''Gonna cum, where do you want it?'' he asked, though you were too fucked out to say anything back.

''Y/n, tell me. Fuck I can't hold on anymore'' he all but shouted through gritted teeth.

''Ug, fuck, in me. Cum in me, please'' you finally said.

He bit down on your shoulder as you felt him shoot sheets of warm cum to paint your walls, his body shuddering above yours, now praising your name.

Finally he slowed his movements and settled still, still inside of you. You wrapped your arms around his back and held him as tight as you could as he settled his weight on you.

You both tried to catch your breaths, unable to move or say anything but just content to be in each others' arms.

Lando's head was nestled in your hair while yours was just in the perfect position to leave kisses on his shoulder.

He finally pulled his head up after some time and gave you a sheepish smile. He looked handsome as ever, and his curls were stuck to his forehead with a thin sheet of sweat that was dripped down his neck.

You couldn't help but lean up and lick the sweat that was dripping off.

Lando moaned again/ ''Úgh y/n, you're incredible. That was amazing'' he cooed, pecking your nose and looking back at you.

You decided you had to tease him a bit. ''You said 'just the tip!' what happened to that?'' you asked, chuckling so he'd know you were only playing him.

He raised a brow. ''How can i not give you a good fuck when you're here looking all pretty and making the best sounds from your mouth?'' he questioned back causing you to blush.

''Ugh, okay but you still owe me a romantic dinner'' you replied.

''Deal. You're mine now'' he said, kissing you again.

A/N - this was sooo much fun to write! Please send more requests!!

These pics though 😮‍💨

[pathologicalreid]

hi!!! totally up to you if you want to write it (it maybe too self indulgent ahhhhh). but i was think of bau!reader (or bau!adjacent) who has known spencer for forever and has watched him "glow up"/become more confident and is now dating him, but is now more self-conscious that he will realize that he is totally out of her league since women are now hitting on him all the time and he is able to basically flip men in the field. something like that if you get the vibe? just a girlfriend who is worried her boyfriend will outgrow her and is scared they'll breakup. feel free to ignore! love your work sm!!!

a league of your own | S.R.

as your boyfriend seemingly evolves, you grow increasingly aware of the feeling of being left behind

who? spencer reid x fem!reader category: flangst (heavy on the fluff, more like internalized angst) content warnings: in a bar but neither spencer nor reader are drinking, follows the events of 14x12 "hamelin", discusses the pronunciation of asmr word count: 1.4k a/n: self conscious reader is so important to me. this is for everyone who has a hard time naming their feelings. thank you for requesting!!

“He flipped him over the table?” You asked, raising your eyebrows as you looked up at Tara, who was talking about your boyfriend’s maneuvering of Arthur Brodie in the field. In passing, you had heard about the mark left on the suspect’s forehead, but you hadn’t heard the story of how he had gotten it – until now.

Bringing her cup to her lips, Tara nodded at you, her expression clarifying that it was as impressive as it sounded. You sighed at the newest addition to Spencer’s ever-evolving personality, it was hard not to think of them as grievances against you, but that’s what it felt like.

You looked over your shoulder to the bar, trying to scope out where he had disappeared to before you spotted a familiar mess of brown curls. From where you were standing, you could see him holding two drinks in his hands, but it wasn’t until he shifted his stance that you saw the girl that he was speaking with. “And that’s three,” Luke observed, shaking his head in disbelief as he watched the same scene as you.

Emily asked what he was talking about, but you tuned them out as you watched the interaction. You already knew this was the third woman to hit on him since the team entered the bar thirty minutes ago.

There was no mistaking it, your boyfriend was easy on the eyes, and you weren’t naïve enough to try to deny that fact. Still, you were having a hard time adjusting to seeing him garner exponentially more attention from people at the bar. “You better go get your man, or she might steal him away from you,” Luke taunted, nodding his head in the direction of the bar.

“What?” Your head snapped back in the direction of the bar, eyes wide as you peered across the bar where Spencer was talking animatedly to the blonde in front of him before he looked behind himself and gestured to you, prompting you to wave timidly at the both of them.

The girl sneered in your direction before spinning on her heel and trudging away, freeing your boyfriend to return to you at the table. “They didn’t have any limes, so they put a lemon in your Shirley Temple,” Spencer said apologetically, dropping a kiss on the part of your hair as he set the glass in front of you.

Shaking your head, you smiled up at him, “That’s fine, thank you.” You told him, placing your hand on the glass and spinning it to better access the straw.

If he noticed anything odd, he didn’t comment on it, instead deciding to contribute to Tara and Rossi’s conversation on ASMR.

As the team continued to chat around you, you just continued spinning your glass on the oak table, becoming more and more conscious of the way your thighs stuck to the leather booth. Your eyes only flicked up when you noticed people staring at you, “What?” You asked, heart racing as you had been caught daydreaming.

The five remaining members of your team at the table were all looking at you with similar curious looks, “Rossi’s headed out. He was just saying goodbye,” Penelope said, reaching across the table and awkwardly patting your hand.

“Oh,” you responded meekly, “Have a good night. Tell Krystall I said hi.” You shifted in your seat, the sound of your legs unsticking from the seat seemingly amplified tenfold in your self-conscious state.

As Dave made his way out, Spencer gestured for you to move over so he could sit next to you. Tara got up to get in line for the restroom and Luke and Garcia weaseled their way into one of their patented bickering matches, you nearly jumped when you felt Spencer’s hand settle on your thigh. “Alright,” he muttered, turning his head to you, “What’s up with you tonight?”

Frowning, you looked up at Spencer, brown eyes studying your face as he hunted for even the slightest hint of what had gotten into you. The only problem was you didn’t have a name for it yourself. It could be perceived as jealousy, but you weren’t concerned with anyone actually taking Spencer’s attention away from you, you were just feeling feelings. Unnamable feelings.

You brought your glass closer to you, the condensation being a welcome relief on your warm skin, pinching the straw as you took a sip of your drink. “Nothing’s up,” you said, stirring the lemon wedge around in your glass.

“Are you sure? You look flushed,” he said, pursing his lips thoughtfully before he gently pushed his water in your direction.

Brushing off his concern, you turned your attention to watching Luke and Garcia in an animated discussion on how to pronounce ASMR – Penelope insisted she was right, and Luke didn’t necessarily care either way. You only moved your gaze when the blonde from earlier passed by again, dragging her palm over Spencer’s shoulder, causing him to lean into you.

Flustered, you took a long sip of your drink before setting it back down, “Can we go?” You asked Spencer, pressing your lips together in a thin line as you looked at him expectantly.

As he began to put puzzle pieces together, he nodded, standing up and gathering your glasses to set them on the bar. You said your goodbyes before leading the way out and flipping Luke off as he called out something about protection, something that would have previously left Spencer embarrassed and stammering, but now made him chuckle as he held the door open for you.

Part of you was grateful for this sort of evolution in Spencer, he was, after all, more confident in every aspect of his life. Now waiting for the metro, you looked at him, longer hair, his work shirt unbuttoned at the top and pushed up to his elbows. The light breeze in the tunnel moved his hair as he crossed his arms in front of his chest, “Are you alright, love?”

Your shoulders drooped helplessly at the pet name, “You shoved a guy on a table?”

His face fell, “Is that what this is about? Me using force against a suspect?”

Quickly, you shook your head, “No, no. He pushed Tara, it’s not that at all,” you scrambled to reassure him, knowing he was afraid that his time in federal prison had made him a violent person. “It’s just… you shoved a guy onto a picnic table and you’re getting hit on by people in bars and you’re dressing differently and I’m just… me.” You hold your hands out as if you’re on display, looking down at the sundress you had thrown on and the sneakers you wore for comfort instead of style.

“Are you jealous that I’m getting attention from other people?” He asked, “Because I’ve never encouraged anyone.” That was true, last week a deputy sheriff had made a move on your boyfriend, and the only thing he had gotten in return was an earful on how you had made the deduction that eventually solved the case.

Bowing your head, you regretted ever saying anything in the first place, “No,” you groaned, “What’s that term for someone who can’t name their emotions? That’s me. Right now. At this moment.”

Spencer chuckled at your frustration, “It’s called alexithymia, and there’s nothing wrong with that.”

“I’ve watched you change in front of my very own eyes in the last year, and I guess I’m just feeling left behind,” you admitted. “You’re a changed person and there’s nothing different about me.”

He tilted his head to the side curiously, “Can I ask you something?”

“Anything,” you said desperately, hoping to get to the bottom of your conflicting emotions.

“Did you love me before?”

You froze, looking up at him, “Of course.”

He raised his eyebrows, reaching out and tucking a strand of hair behind your ear, “And you love me now?”

Nodding, you stepped closer to him, “Very much so.”

“Then there’s nothing else I could possibly ask of you,” he told you, smiling as you blushed. “You don’t need to change in time with me, and – since we’re being honest – I’ve always felt like I’m the one lagging behind you. So, maybe I’ve just been playing catch-up.”

You frowned, moving even closer to him as the platform grew crowded, “Well, now I feel ridiculous.”

“Not ridiculous,” he murmured, “Just human,” Spencer amended.

[ravengards-rogue]

i thought of you so often.

arthur morgan x reader.

✧ tags : fem!reader (gendered language, explicit use of she/her in reference to reader), children / planning on children, generally sappiness, fluff, au where nothing bad happens to arthur hdskjsdkfhsj.

✧ wc : 2.4k (???)

✧ a/n : arthur morgan.... save me arthur morgan....also not a super original thought but i can't Stop thinking about it.

✧ synopsis : a collection of love letters, all unfinished, tucked somewhere you aren't meant to find them. oh, arthur loves you more than you knew.

.𖥔 ݁ ˖˚☽˚｡⋆

You try to keep out of Arthur's belongings.

He's owed some privacy, for one. More than that, you've never felt any reason to look into it. Arthur isn't a man of many words, though you catch moments of his introspection should you pry. He isn't stoic, neither. And above all things, he's kind. Really truly kind in a way that makes him different from other men.

You don't have any complaints about him is what you mean. Unlike the men you've loved before, there are no short-comings of Arthur that would drive you to wanting to investigate his own personal things. Especially something so personal like his journals, prior or present.

On top of that, you were there with him through everything. You were part of the gang and stayed by him when it all fell apart. It was towards the end of that that Arthur came to you near frenzied, told you his plans, his thoughts. Confided in you and no less than begged to go with him where he ran.

You loved Arthur enough to stay, and so things ended - and you ran. There isn't much his journal could tell that you couldn't surmise on your own.

It's been years now, and you've long since left that life. You live with Arthur quietly, peaceful in the moments with a garden and kitty sweet as sugar.

It's a good life. An honest, quiet one sometimes to the point of being boring. You rarely miss the action, though occasionally you'll take up a bounty just to feel alive and make some money.

Mostly though, you live as unassuming folk. No bloodshed, no wardens, no gunslinging.

Been talk between you both about having a baby, recently. Serious talk. You've made some money between here and there, and you've got a good life. You've traveled too. But it gets a little lonely, and you don't really get your fill with just Jack when John and Abi are ways away.

Before anything like that, though - you need to clear some space. Empty out some belongings and things collecting dust. Living in one place for too long creates all sorts of mess, you find. When Arthur is home to help, he does - but he's been busy lately figuring something out with Charles. Some business venture related to ranching that you know nothing about so far. They'll tell you when its ready.

Usually when you're tidying, you keep to just your things, or your shared things - but Arthur has lived more life than you. It shows in that big closet space filled with nick-knacks he has yet to toss.

You'd mentioned it to him not too long ago and he'd given you permission to go through them.

(A kiss to your forehead from chapped lips and hands holding your waist, Arthur hums in acknowledgement as you ask his permission.

"Ain't nothing I gotta hide from you. Do whatever you need.)

But like you said - you try to keep your nose out of his business if it's not necessary for you to be in it in anyway.

You weren't trying to look through his things, really. You started cleaning, worked your way to that last box. Up on a shelf in his closet, a little too high for you to reach easily. You made a misstep and dropped the damn thing. It barely missed your head as the whole thing fell open, and out came journals and papers and photographs.

You've always known Arthur to be sentimental, so none of it has been particularly surprising. A photo of wolves and him on a horse, the picture from John and Abigail's engagement. Some other scraps of sentimental value.

And then there was a journal. Not Arthur's journal that he's always using, but another you've never seen before. You know Arthur journals, seen the thing plenty though you never look unless he shows you first.

A journal with a dark brown stained leather binding, fallen open and your name scrawled out in pencil lead at the top of it.

The curiosity got the better of you, okay? Not your damn fault.

So you're thinking on it.

The fabric of your skirt is pooled out underneath you as you hold the thing in your hands, sitting down on the ground surrounded by things. You've stowed away everything else that fell out from the box after ensuring it was intact, including Arthur's journals. Everything with the exception of the one you're holding.

Some guilt eats at you. You don't wanna upset him potentially by having looked. Even if he gave you permission, looking in the damn thing is a little different. But your name was there so clearly, and well - you didn't think he wrote about you. Apart from here and there, maybe.

You hold the book out in front of you with a sigh, looking fondly at his name ingrained in the leather. You press your forehead against it with, resigning yourself completely.

"Lord forgive my pryin'," You mumble, hoping it's enough to absolve you.

Your heart feels funny as you let your fingers trace over the hard edge of the front cover, one eye shut as you start to open it slow.

The first few pages are nothing special.

A page outlining who the journal belongs to and when it was started, and some doodles of yarrow and oleander. The pages after that filled with mundane entries. About people he met or things he saw, all endearing to you. The corners of your lips tug up slightly.

You really love this man helplessly.

You flip through a few more pages, many of them blank before writing starts to appear again. Little by little, you find passages. You look to the dates up at the corner (though not all of them have one) and trace the timeline. This is from all the way back in Horseshoe Overlook.

It feels like ages ago now.

You look at a page with no date, and reading the writing in it. There's doodles of flowers and trees along the bottom of the page. The words are easy enough to make out - because Arthur has the most unusually beautiful handwriting.

There's some entries about you. At first, they all include your name in some context. Mentioned in the same way Arthur might mention Hosea or Abigail. The further you go, the less you see it. The more you become her and she.

It's a trend. The longer you read, the less there is about anyone else. Just you and all your silly idiosyncrasies tucked between pages. Something lovestruck and foolish lights its match in you.

Saw a body hanging at the tracks at Valentine. A gruesome sight. I told her about it and she laughed. Asked me to take her to see it. A strange woman, by all accounts.

You feel yourself smile a little as you continue to flip through the pages.

She joined me riding into town today. Said she had some business to attend but would not tell me any details. After, she came with me to purchase a new gun. I engraved a snake into it's handle, per her request.

Another few pages littered with drawings of delicate berries and waterfalls before you stumble across more writing. The more you flip, the longer the passages become you.

You can't tear your eyes away.

Rained today. Nothing too terrible or worth mentioning, except that she nearly caught a cold playing in it. I brought her coffee to keep her warm, but could not scold her further upon seeing her delight.

Another passage, this time written with messier hand writing. A coffee stain splatters on the white of the page.

Your heart tugs on itself. Swells about a thousand sizes. To think he wrote so much of your time together between these pages.

You read and read and read - and each passage is a little more mundane at the last. Some pages go on in vivid detail, but others are so short you aren't sure what to make of the fact he wrote them at all. As if such little details were important enough to keep in mind.

I picked a flower for her. I thought it would suit her taste. It was white with delicate petals. I did not know the name.

She wore it in her hair this evening. I find I can't stop grinning.

One passage on the next few pages, longer than the rest, catches your eye. From later in your time together, written when you were in Leymone. Near Scarlett Meadows and before the mess in Saint Denis.

After Arthur had been kidnapped.

I have gone on and on about the business with Colm O'Driscoll in many entries before this one. Yet, I find it difficult to forget. Many times I have come close to death, and still no experience lingers on my mind quite like this one. Everyone has done their best to look after me. For that I am grateful, though I do not care for being looked after. What use am I like this, I wonder? Perhaps, I should simply be grateful to be alive and in one piece, if a little uglier than I was. Alongside Miss Grimshaw and Miss Tilly, she has been by my side while I recovered. Such a carefree woman and yet I have seen her cry and weep over me countless times in the last few weeks alone. The decent man in me is apologetic for causing sorrow. Perhaps, it is the outlaw in me that feels some strange relief or satisfaction. Her fussing does not give me any grief. If anything, I find myself all the more endeared. Such a decent woman does not belong in a place like this. I hope she is able to go somewhere far away and live peacefully. I am not so shameless to want anything more. The time together we have spent, I will make sure to cherish.

Something painful and pitiful tugs at your heart. Even when Arthur admitted his feelings for you, he had started it on a similar tangent. You tell him often that you're the one who feels out of bounds with him. That a man as decent and as honest as him often feels like too much for you to have so easily.

A tear slips from your eye and you laugh at your own sentimentality, wiping it away before it can splatter onto the pages.

The further you read, the more sporadic entries become. You find that there are pages filled with sketches of you, but many of them are scratched out or half erased - like he did not find them good enough. Of your side profile, of your hands, of you pointing at a target with a gun. You feel a strange feeling of love wash over you.

Instead of concrete thoughts, you're met with Arthur's abstract. Subtle complexities and studies. There's honest tenderness in the way he sketches you and the words he chooses to caption each with. Lighter, thinner lines. Smaller doodles like stray daydreams caught onto a page.

You've never doubted Arthur in his love for you, quiet man he is - but it proves to overwhelm when presented to you in such a way.

You get to back pages. There, you're finally met with more writing. Except, instead of journal entries, there's the start of letters. You find your name at the top of the page.

Over and over. Love letters, all unfinished or scrapped. Written over and over and over, but not completed. There's tens of them at least. You've never received a love letter from Arthur before, though it's nothing you fault him for.

Now you're almost glad. You like this much better.

My darling girl My muse The better half of me, I must find some way to tell you all of what I think of you. It seems no words do it justice, I'm afraid. Still, it is in my best interest to try.

Damn that man.

When you find yourself starting to weep, you don't fight the feeling. You merely shut the book closed and set it in your lap before crying into your hands.

Such overwhelmingly happy tears. You feel off balance. If the whole world turned on its head this very minute, you're unsure you'd notice. What a decent, honest man you've come to love. What a tender one.

In the middle of your crying, you don't hear the door open or close. Nor do you hear Arthur's heavy footfall until he's in the doorway, with a voice worried half to death.

"Sweetheart, what in the hell?"

You turn your head to look at him, watching his eyes widen at your tear stained face. You clamber to your feet hurriedly, book dropping onto the ground next to you as you throw yourself at him as soon as you can.

Arthur is a steady enough man not to stumble when you do, though you can feel his apprehension. Eventually, he circles his arms around your waist. His hugs are strong. Bout strong as him and then some. An arm wrapped around your waist, the other crossed over your back all around your shoulder. Full pressure as he squeezes you tight, patting the back of your head.

"I leave you alone for a few hours. What has gotten into you, little lady?"

You pull back and and look at him, wet lashes and all, before leaning up to kiss him. Arthur meets your lips chastely at first before making a noise of surprise as you kiss him further. You use both hands to grab his face as you do, scruff scratching against your skin. His lips are soft, welcoming. He melts into the touch, so easily - blue eyes lovestruck as you pull away.

"You know I love you, don't you Arthur? More than anyone in this crazy world we live in,"

His face softens visibly. He smiles at you, touching his head to yours.

"Somehow, I do. Though, I'm wonderin' what the hell brought this on."

You tuck your face against his chest, feeling his laughter reverb through you at the way you cling to him so fervently. You sniffle as you talk.

"Found your journal. The one about me,"

He goes stiff, then silent. When you look up again, he's blushing red. He pinches his brow.

"Lord, I'd forgotten all about it,"

You shake your head.

"Ain't nothing for you to be embarrassed about. You are so wonderful,"

He pouts at you. Your heart swells. "You ain't helping with the embarrassment."

You hold him further. Hug him so tight, worried he'll disappear if you don't.

"I love you, Arthur."

"You already told me once, didn'tcha?"

"And I'll tell you one thousand times over," You emphasize, pouting at him. "Really. I love you,"

"I love you too sweetheart," His hand cups your face, thumb brushing along your waterline. "Don't cry no more. Spoils that pretty face."

"I'll try but I don't know if it's all out of me,"

Arthur laughs, pressing a kiss against your hairline. "Guess I'll just have to wipe your tears."

.𖥔 ݁ ˖˚☽˚｡⋆

[suna-cerely-yours]

Break Point ft k. sakusa

synopsis: tennis!au -you shouldn't be letting your boyfriend's rival feel you up in the locker room, and you certainly shouldn't be getting on your knees for him, especially given the history between the two of you

warnings : mdni, smut, fem! bodied reader, reader has she/her pronouns, degradation, cheating, oral (m! recieving), public sex, pussy jobs, hair pulling, reader is called a good girl

song rec : fetish -selena gomez

"and we're back folks! that was some first set- of course, we are in the US Open semi-finals, and it is sakusa and terushima on the court!"

the crowd roars as you adjust your sunglasses and pick up your honey deuce to take a sip, eyes trained on terushima sitting on the bench with a towel over his head. unwillingly, you find your gaze pulled towards the player on the other side of the umpire's chair, sakusa kiyoomi uncapping a bottle of electrolytes before tilting his head back and bringing the bottle to his mouth. you take another sip, watching the strong column of his throat move as he gulps his water.

"this infamous rivalry's brought everyone together today. over in terushima's box, is, of course, his beautiful girlfriend- joined by his high-school friends!"

you raise your head and smile, raising your honey deuce as the cameras pan over to your seat at the commentator's words. in the row behind you terushima's friends holler and whistle, waving a banner with his face on it.

"terushima's partner is pretty private, so it's a real treat that we managed an interview with her before the match- she's had some fun stuff to say about this rivalry and today's match."

you watch as you pop up on the big screen, dressed in the blue and white dress you'd picked out specially for this match- makeup and hair fresher than it currently was. the string of diamonds around your throat winks in the light as you nod at whatever the interviewer was saying.

"what do you think about sakusa? he's given your boyfriend quite a good amount of grief this season."

the video-you laughs at the question, red lips curling upward. "well, he's been a household name for some time now. yuji thinks more about him than about me, if we're being frank."

"do you think his victories are earned? sakusa's won 5 out of the 6 times they've met so far, and their rivalry goes way back to their juniors days."

"sakusa's definitely a really good player, and he's improved a lot since his defeat at last year's wimbledon final. i- we, yuji and i both think he's someone to watch out for, especially if he can clean up his net play a little more. he, for sure, has the potential to surpass the big 3."

the interviewer raises her eyebrows at your admission, and Arthur Ashe clamors in real time. you sink your teeth into your lower lip, as the other screen shows sakusa's reaction to your words. as usual, the man is stoic, showing no signs of having heard your praise. however, his sharp eyes are focused on the screen showing your interview, having stopped all his inter-set preparations.

"and what about terushima? do you think he can surpass the big 3?"

you're silent for a touch too long before showering yuji with praise, however it doesn't seem like anyone except you had noticed the pause. yuji's grinning from his bench on the court making kissy faces at the screen. he has everyone's attention.

you swallow, shifting your focus back to sakusa, who's no longer looking at the screen, but has his eyes trained on you, a faint smirk evident on his face. well, that pause hadn't escaped everyone's notice. kissing your teeth, you avert your eyes- taking another sip of your honey deuce. arthur ashe titters one final time before silence settles again as the players take their positions, sakusa's serve.

"and at 144 mph that's this season's fastest serve yet! i would not want to be the one who faces that serve, that's for sure."

you lean forward, taking off your sunglasses as the men enter the fifth and final set, sakusa breaking in the first game itself. you, as well as the rest of the centre court, watch with bated breaths as the game gets tense- so focused that you completely miss the dark clouds rolling in and the thunder rumbling ominously. there's not a moment of notice as the sky opens up, the downpour brutal. fat, cold raindrops assault your senses as you scramble for cover- dress already sticking and hair frizzing. making your way down the stairs into the gallery, you hear the commentators announce the official postponement of the match.

going down a level further, you push open the double doors to reach the locker rooms. surprisingly, there's no one around. there's a clang of a locker closing somewhere, and you walk towards the sound- your heels clacking loudly. turning the corner, you freeze as a pale, muscular back- scattered with moles- comes into view. sakusa kiyoomi stands with his back to you, shirtless, with his shorts riding low and a towel slung over his shoulder. at your sharp intake he turns, hooded eyes pinning you in place.

"sorry, i um- i'll just-"

you shouldn't be here. (you've been here too many times to be anywhere else.)

he says nothing but keeps his eyes on you as he towels his hair. your gaze unconsciously strays to his biceps as they flex at the motion, before snapping back to his face. he stares at you for a moment longer, before throwing his towel back into the locker and slamming the door shut. you feel heat creeping up your cheeks as he turns to you again.

"why are you here again?"

"sorry, i just- i thought-"

he keeps quiet, cocking his head to the side, waiting for you to continue. you stammer once more before shutting up.

"sorry. i'll leave."

you feel a lump in your throat at his curt words, but you have no right to be upset. you know that very well. you're almost at the corner when his words cause you to stop.

"the big three?"

you pause, memories of younger kiyoomi talking about his dreams flashing through your mind. swallowing, you turn around.

"you know you could do it. coming from me it means nothing."

"nothing?"

you pause again, feeling your neck prickle with heat against his intense stare. he hasn't moved an inch, yet you feel cornered- like prey.

"it should mean nothing."

he scoffs at this, taking a step closer.

"is that what helps you sleep at night? do you say it before you slip your hand into your panties imagining it's my dick inside you, or do you say it after- as long as there's no guilty conscious right?"

you blink at his words, before retorting sharply, "kiyo you can't speak to me like that, watch your words-"

"so i'm kiyo again? what happened to sakusa? you said it so sweetly in the interview. i'm a regular at your perfect white picket fence household, right?"

you step back, hitting a locker, unaware that you'd been backing up. he's in front of you before you can blink, pressing up against you, one hand gripping your waist the other flat against the locker beside your head. leaning closer his breath fans across your face as he pants, still breathing deeply from his match.

"you show up- as you always do when he's playing against me- wearing the dress i bought you, the dress i fucked you in- wrapped in diamonds i bought you, diamonds that rest where my hands used to-

and that's fine. that's perfectly fine. but showing up here? in this locker room? and saying your words mean nothing to me?"

you whimper, eyes falling shut as he grips your face, smearing your lipstick with his thumb. the scent of his cologne mixed with his sweat crowds your senses, dimming them. slipping his thumb into your mouth he presses against your tongue. you obediently part your mouth, pressing your thighs to relieve some of the pressure. sakusa scoffs again, slotting his thigh between your legs, allowing you to press down and rut against him.

"what a slut, do you get wet like this for everyone? or am i just special baby? do you let every fucker who plays against your darling boyfriend feel you up in the locker room? does the idea of you getting fucked by someone he'll lose against turn him on too?"

your eyes roll back as you moan, sliding a hand to your breast, before it's snatched back by kiyoomi, pinned against the locker. his touch is too familiar for you to consider him as sakusa, he's always been your kiyo.

"you're going to get off humping my leg like a dog in heat baby, i know you can do it," he coos, grip on your face tightening.

you whimper at his words, grinding down harder. everything feels so hot, with kiyoomi pressing his body against you- weight heavy. his scent is everywhere.

"actually- i don't think you deserve that."

your eyes fly open as he shifts his thigh and moves away, leaving you cold and slumped against the lockers. you breathe heavily, fingers scrambling for purchase behind you to keep yourself upright.

you open your mouth to say something, anything- but you draw blank. what can you even say?

kiyoomi stands still in front of you, arms crossed- but with his shorts tenting it's clear he's not entirely unaffected. his dark eyes remain fixed on you, but he says nothing. the two of you remain suspended like this for a few heartbeats. you see his adam's apple bob as he swallows once, twice- before taking a step back.

"you should leave. he's probably waiting for you."

you should leave. he's definitely waiting for you.

you nod slowly, straightening your spine. taking a deep breath, you reach for your bag which you had dropped sometime during and dig through it for a tissue. your makeup must be a mess.

glancing back at kiyoomi you pause- watching as he sinks down on a bench and leans back to rest on his elbows. his legs part as he breathes, chest rising- erection still straining against his shorts.

the sight is so familiar, your heart aches. your mouth feels dry as he drops his head back, revealing the strong column of his neck.

your panties stick uncomfortably, pussy still throbbing. your breasts feel heavy as you drop your bag again, turning towards him. heat trickles down your spine as you reach for the zipper of your dress, unable to move your eyes from his physique. your dress pools by your feet as you step out of it, now dressed in nothing but your panties, heels, and his diamonds.

kiyoomi still hasn't moved.

teeth sinking into your lower lip, you reach to unbuckle your heels, your brain on autopilot. now barefoot, you pad towards kiyo, sinking to your knees in between his parted legs.

you should leave.

you reach forward to mouth at kiyo's erection, pressing open-mouthed kisses on his cock through the fabric. above you kiyo still hasn't moved, but he sighs, carding a hand through your hair. pressing a hand to his thigh for balance, you move to pull him out, continuing to mouth at his shaft. leaning forward you take him in your mouth, slowly easing him in until you feel him hit the back of your throat. eyes watering, you breath slowly, sucking him the way you know he likes it. you feel kiyo tug at your roots, and you look up at him, eyes locking. his eyes are hooded and impossibly dark, mouth bitten red as he pants.

"my pretty girl, so good for me, only for me," he slurs, grip on your hair tightening. you moan, taking him deeper, swallowing him. kiyo groans, head tipping back again. you slip your hand into your panties, desperate for some friction, moaning again. before you can move however, you find yourself being lifted straight up onto his lap.

now straddling him, your pussy slides against his dick, as you grasp his shoulders for purchase.

"you just couldn't stay away could you? what a filthy little whore. what would those reporters say if they could see you now, hmm? tennis's favourite girlfriend is nothing but a cock hungry slut, but not for her boyfriend, no- for her boyfriend's rival," he coos.

"kiyo, fuck," you whimper, everything is too much.

he moves you again, this time standing up to push you against the locker once again. your legs tremble as you lean back. he slaps your tits, as you jerk, gasping.

"kiyokiyokiyo, please," you whine, unsure what exactly you want him to do. yanking your panties down, he pumps his cock once, before tapping the head against your clit. bullying the head between your lips, he groans, rutting against you.

slapping your tits once again, he grips his cock, inhaling sharply- and he cums all over you pussy and panties. you whine again, reaching to pull his head down, needing to kiss him.

"fuck. fuck, you're so-," he pants into your neck. you nod deliriously, you need to cum so badly it hurts.

the doors clang loudly.

"yo, sakusa, you in here? the weather's cleared up, they're sayin' if it's cool with the both of us we can continue in 30 minutes."

the two of you spring apart, alarm bells ringing in your mind as you pull up your panties. rushing to your dress, you struggle to put it on.

kiyo shoots you one last look, before calling out, "sure man, you mind letting them know on my behalf? i'll be right up."

the footsteps stop just you're stumbling into your shoes.

"of course my guy, no problem."

the doors open again, and you sigh in relief.

"say, you wouldn't have seen my girl anywhere, would you? she's disappeared."

you freeze again, but sakusa's moving past you now, rounding the corner with his tennis bag hung over his shoulder.

"nah, haven't seen her."

[agreeeeeeeeeee]

Best Friends Brother ⊹ . + °

| Charlie Weasley x fem!reader

summary: You are Fred & George’s best friend, and meet their mysterious older brother, Charlie, at a product launch at Weasley’s Wizard Wheezes.

cw: MDNI 18+ smut with basically zero plot. charlie has an absolutely filthy mouth. no war (or light war? idk, everyone is alive)

an: this was supposed to be a casual hook up when I initally planned it, but the dick was so good they fell in love ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

+ ° . ๑・° ⊹ . + ° . ๑・° ⊹ . + ° . ๑・° ⊹ . +

Weasley’s Wizard Wheezes had a line around the building, hopeful witches and wizards desperate to get a glimpse of the Weasley twin’s newest product. You strolled past them in your mini dress and tights, more than a little chuffed by their jealous glares.

The doors were locked, blocked off with enchanted rope, but when Fred spotted you through the window, he ran to unlock the doors.

“Y/n! I’m so glad you could make it. Georgie, looks who’s here!” Fred slung an arm over your shoulders and ushered you into the store. It was the cleanest you’d ever seen it, with streamers and lights strung everywhere, and a long table loaded with food and drink.

“Y/n!” George shouted, popping up from behind the register. Both of them were dressed in freshly pressed brown suits, looking exceptionally dapper. He came aroud the counter and pulled you into a hug. “Thanks for coming out.”

“Wouldn’t miss it,” you grinned up at them, pride filling your chest. You’d been close with the twins for years, a friendship that started in school and only grew in adulthood, since you worked a few doors down at Honeydukes.

“Come, you have to meet our family!” They ushered you upstairs, where a dozen or so people waited, several faces were familiar, some were not.

“You remember Harry, Ron, and Ginny,” George said, and you greeted them all with a wave.

“And our parents, Molly and Arthur,” Fred continued.

“Oh, y/n! How lovely to see you!” Molly cooed, pulling you into a rib-cracking hug. “My, what a beautiful young lady you’ve grown into.” She pinched you cheek, and heat scorched your face.

“And this is our older brother’s Percy, Charlie, and Bill. And Bill’s wife, Fleur.”

You turned to the trio of men hovering by the bookcases, and nearly tripped over your heels. Percy, you remembered from school, Fleur as well, and Bill was too busy gazing down at her blonde head to glance your way. But Charlie. He stared straight through you, his dark eyes swallowing you whole.

“Pleasure,” Charlie said, his voice honeyed and deep. He was shorter that Percy beside him, but muscular enough that the maroon blazer he wore seemed a little stretched at the shoulders. His white button down shirt beneath it was tailored perfectly to fit across his wide chest and taper at his defined waist. Freckles kissed his cheeks and forehead, his skin a shade tanner than his siblings, though he shared their ginger hair, mid-length and wavy.

“Hello,” you managed, giving him a small smile. But before you could engage further, George whisked you away.

“It’s tiiiime!” Fred shouted, waving his wand, and the doors burst open.

+ ° . ๑・° ⊹ . + ° . ๑・° ⊹ . + ° . ๑・° ⊹ . +

As the event raged on, you found yourself drawn to Charlie’s orbit, watching as he mingled with guests and chatted with his family. He seemed to draw a lot of attention, what with his rugged good looks and the fact that he was a dragon trainer. It seemed everyone wanted a sliver of Charlie Weasley’s attention.

So you admired him from a far, and tried to help Fred and George as best you could.

You chatted with customers, explaining the new product the best you could, but you kept feeling the tug of someone’s attention at the nape of your neck, distracting you. When the customer finally moved on, you glanced towards the direction of the feeling, and caught Charlie watching you over the rim of his fire whiskey, ignoring the gentleman attempting to talk to him entirely.

The air froze in your lungs, you heart tripping over itself. His gaze was scorching, and if looks could burn…you were certain your clothes would be rendered to ash.

Desire pooled in your lower belly, heating your blood to an uncomfortable degree. Your heart was pounding so loudly in your ears, you missed George approach.

“Hey, y/n, enjoying yourself?” He asked, offering you a glass of champagne with a candy snitch floating in it.

You accepted with a smile. “I am, thank you. You guys have done an incredible job.”

George beamed, clinking your glasses together before loping off to sell to another customer.

“So, how long have you known my brothers?” A low voice murmured in your ear, and you whirled around, nearly spilling champagne all over Charlie’s front. He caught your elbow with a steady hand, his grip firm but gentle. “Easy, love,” he said, the corner of his mouth lifting.

“Oh, uh, f-five years? I think,” you stuttered, looking anywhere but his smoldering eyes.

“Then how have we never met? I’d certainly remember you.”

You shrugged a shoulder, taking what you hoped was a casual sip of wine. “Seems you haven’t been paying much attention,” you teased, finally meeting his eyes.

His smirk grew into a soft smile. “What a grave error on my part.”

“Are you in town for the event, or…?” You could feel heat climbing up your neck, but you willed yourself to keep a level head. You knew how to flirt, had done so with plenty of blokes in your time, but none as handsome and disarming as Charlie.

“I thought so, but evidently the Gods had other ideas.”

You knees nearly buckled. “Like?” You coyly tilted your head, allowing your eyes to trail across his broad shoulders, down his chest. Was this guy seriously flirting with you? You knew you weren’t unattractive, but Charlie was…phew.

“Like…” He flushed a little, betraying his suave demeanor, and your heart slipped a little further into his hands. “Meeting the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen.”

“Ever?” You teased, pulling your lower lip between your teeth.

“In this life and probably the next.” He took a sip of his whiskey, letting his eyes wander over you the same way yours did him. And based on the way they darkened, his pupils widening just a fraction, he liked what he saw as much as you did.

“Does that line always work for you?”

“Well, considering I’ve never tried it, why don’t you tell me?”

+ ° . ๑・° ⊹ . + ° . ๑・° ⊹ . + ° . ๑・° ⊹ . +

Charlie slammed the door shut behind you before crowding you against it, his lips colliding with yours. He tasted like whiskey and pumpkin, with a tinge of cigarette smoke that went straight to your head, and you eagerly tangled your tongue with his, pushing his blazer off his shoulders.

“Colloportus,” he murmured against your mouth, and you heard the lock schick into place. He shrugged his blazer off, tossing it somewhere in the dark storage closet, and his hands were on you again, one sliding into your hair, the other on your lower back, drawing you closer.

“Charlie?” You gasped as his lips traveled down your neck, leaving hot, open-mouthed kisses along your skin, his short beard a rough contrast to the suppleness of his kiss.

“Yeah, honey?” he panted, lifting his head to meet your eyes.

“I don’t usually…” you trailed off, nerves suddenly closing your throat.

His hand slid from your hair to cup your cheek, his callouses rough against your heated skin. “Me neither,” he murmured, resting his forehead against yours. “We can do whatever you want, love. I’ll take you to the nicest restaurant in London, or on Dragon-back to the Swiss Alps, or on a cruise ship to the Americas—”

You cut him off with a kiss, throwing your arms around his neck. “And if I want you to fuck me?” you said between pecks, tugging at the roots of his hair.

He smiled and scooped you up by the meat of your thighs, wrapping your legs around his waist so your skirt pushed up over your hips. “Then I’ll fuck you as often as ya’ like.” He turned and dropped you onto some kind of work bench, sending the papers and junk flying with a sweep of his arm.

“The twin’s are going to be pissed,” you giggled, leaning back onto the wood so he could continue his previous assault on your neck.

“Fuck ‘em,” he muttered, nipping at your collarbones. His hands gripped your thighs with dizzying strength, the same hands that handled massive, fire-breathing beasts, and spread you open for his hungry gaze. “Seven fucking hells,” he breathed, running his hands down your inner thighs. “You’re perfect.”

In a swift motion, he ripped your tights at the seam, the sound sending a pulse of arousal to your already dripping pussy, a sharp gasp forcing it’s way from your throat. His fingers glided over your wet panties, so delicate compared to the force he’d used heartbeat before.

Your hips lifted slightly, chasing his gentle touch. You couldn’t remember the last time you’d been this desperate for someone to touch you, your entire body tuned to his every breath, every twitch of his muscles. He looked so fucking good leaning over you, his previously tidy shirt rumpled, his hair in copper waves around his face, his lips a little red from your fevered kisses.

With his ring finger, her drew your panties to the side, his middle fingers gliding through your slit and circling your clit twice. “Already so wet for me, honey. What did I do to deserve such a warm welcome?” he purred, leaning down to press a sweet kiss to your forehead.

Your brain couldn’t formulate a response, his touch mind-numbing. Pleasure radiated form his fingers, syrupy and languid, with none of the frenetic energy from before. A moan slipped past your lips, your eyes fluttering closed as he coaxed your pussy to bloom for him.

“And such pretty sounds.” He rolled up his shirt sleeve with his free hand, exposing the muscles and veins along his thick forearm. Slowly, he slipped his middle finger inside of you, large enough to stretch you slightly.

“Fuck, Charlie,” you whined, raising yourself onto your elbows so you could watch him play with you.

“I suppose I shouldn’t stretch this out too long, someone might come looking for us,” he mused. “But I could spend a fucking eternity spoiling this greedy little pussy.” He slipped another finger into you channel, pumping them a few times just to feel your cunt suck him back in. “Would you like that, love?” He tilted your chin up with his free hand, an unspoken request for an answer.

“Y-yes, Charlie. Please,” you panted, stretching up to steal a quick peck. He deepened the kiss, shifting his weight to press you back down onto the desk as his tongue flirted with yours. His hand picked up the pace, fucking you steadily as he devoured your mouth, teeth skating along your swollen flesh before sucking lightly on your tongue.

You don’t know what God blessed him with such a skilled tongue, but you needed to make an offering in thanks stat.

But since you couldn’t do that…

“Charlie?” You asked, reaching around to touch his wrist between your legs.

He immediately stopped, withdrawing his hand completely. “What’s wrong?” He searched your face for signs of discomfort, his brows drawn together.

You pressed a kiss to his bearded cheek before sliding off the desk. He watched you, confused and concerned, then you lowered yourself to your knees and his jaw went slack.

“Honey, you don’t have to—”

“Please, Charlie?” You batted your lashes up at him, tugging lightly on his belt.

“Merlin’s fucking—I can’t say no to you when you look at me like that, sweetheart.”

“Then don’t,” you teased, undoing his belt and zipper. You could see the outline of his cock against his black boxers, thick and throbbing as you glided your fingers over it.

He sucked in a breath, gripping the edge of the table with one of his hands. Encouraged, you dragged the flat of your tongue over the fabric, feeling the heat of him, the wetness collecting by the swollen head.

“I must have died in the dragon pit and gone to heaven. My god, woman,” he rasped, running his fingers through his hair to keep it from blocking the sight.

You giggled, licking a few more stripes before reaching up to free him. His cock sprung out, veiny and flushed pink. And, to your absolute shock and delight, even his cock was freckled.

“You have the prettiest cock I’ve ever seen,” you praised, and his cheeks flushed pink. You laved your tongue along the thickest vein, earning a throaty groan. You sucked the head into your mouth, lapping up the precum pearling from his slit.

Charlie’s head fell back, one of his hands sliding into your hair. He didn’t add any pressure, just held you as you started to suck him, moving a little further down each time. You wrapped your hand around the base, there was no way you’d fit the entire thing in your mouth, and started pumping him, matching the motions with your mouth. His skin was like velvet, soft and smooth, and you loved feeling him pulse against your tongue with every dip of your head.

“You are too damn good at that. So fucking pretty swallowing my cock.” His thumb stroked your cheek while he gazed down at you, stars in his eyes. “You like sucking me off, honey?”

You nodded as best you could, flicking your tongue at the groove just beneath the head. His hips lurched forward, a grunt escaping through his teeth.

“Fuck, sorry, love. I’m trying to stay still for ya’, but feels so fucking good.”

You reached up and guided his hand into your hair, then used it to push your head down, giving him the best puppy dog eyes you could muster.

He smirked, his hand fisting in your hair. “Whatever you say, gorgeous.” He started moving your head along his shaft, rocking his hips in time with the movements. He went easy at first, but as drool began to track down your chin, your eyes rolling back in bliss, he picked up the pace. But he only fucked your mouth for a few, punishing strokes before lifting you off of him. He slammed his mouth to yours, a harsh, hungry kiss that had you seeing stars.

You whined in protest, but he shushed you by lifting you into the air and setting you on the table once more.

“If you thought I wasn’t going to fuck you, you’re mad,” he gruffed, dragging the hot head of his cock through your pussy lips. “That is, if you still want me to?”

“Yes, fuck, now, Charlie. Please.” You spread your legs a little wider for him,

“Anything for you, love.” He leaned down and kissed you again, sliding his cock into your depths at the same time. The feeling of being filled by him bordered on divine, silken and hot. He was stretching you just enough to leave you with that delicious ache between your legs. You moaned into each other’s mouths, the sounds caught up by his tongue parting your lips and caressing yours.

He drew his hips back, agonizingly slow, letting you feel every inch of one another, before he slammed back in, knocking the air from your lungs. It seemed he was at the end of his control, his grip on your hips bruising as he fucked you hard, jostling the desk beneath you and making the shelves along the walls rock.

“Fuck, Charlie. Feels so good,” you cried, trying and failing to keep yourself quiet as he railed you, every thrust like a lightning strike of pleasure through your body.

“Yeah? You take my cock so well, baby. Wet little pussy squeezing the life outta’ me,” he groaned, his hair tickling your face. “So good f’me, honey. Like you were made for me.”

Your muscles tightened, veering closer and closer to your peak, his praise sending little pulses of bliss your clit.

“You like being praised, baby? Hearing how perfect you are for me? Fuck, I can feel how much you like that, squeezing me so hard.” His hand slipped between you, the rough pads of his fingers rubbing tight circles over you puffy clit. “Come for me, y/n. I know you can. I want to feel you fall apart around me. That’s a good girl—”

Your cry drowned out his praise as your peak crashed over you, visceral and exquisite. The world vanished, blown apart by the burst of starlight in your chest as you came for him. Pulses of pleasure made your body shake and buck, your eyes squeezing shut as he fucked you through it.

“That’s it, honey. Such a good fucking girl. Merlin, you’re gonna make me come.” He rested on his forearms, braced on either side of your head, hitting an entirely new angle as you came back into your body.

“Charlie,” you whimpered, clinging to him. ”I’ve got ya’, love. Don’t worry. Just a little longer—fuck.” A strangled groan broke from his throat and you felt his cock swell, then kick against your walls, the first hot stream of release painting your insides.

He rested his head on your shoulder as he muscles trembled, his hips pressed flush to yours. You wrapped you arms around his shoulders, still weak from that soul-shaking orgasm. His lips passed over your shoulder, your clavicle, up your neck, before finally ghosting of your lips, soft and breathless.

You remained like that for longer than you probably should have, enraptured with one another. You'd been complete strangers a few hours ago, but this wasn't a hook up akin to a one night stand. This was the reunification of two beings, the re-raveling of a soul tie.

“Y/n,” he murmured, kissing your forehead, your temple. “Y/n, y/n, y/n…” He held you like he'd die if he let go.

“Charlie,” you exhaled, nuzzling behind his ear.

“Can I take you to Romania with me?” He whispered, a joke, you presumed, but there was no humor in his voice.

“I've never seen a dragon before—”

The door knob jiggled, and someone pressed against it, the wood groaning.

“Shit.” Charlie jumped backwards, scrambling to right your dress and smooth your hair.

“Hey, Freddie! This doors locked for some reason.”

“Charlie, your dick,” you snickered while he wiped away a smudge of your lipstick.

“Fuck, right.”

“Alohamor—”

“COLLOPORTUS,” Charlie barked out, snatching his wand from his boot.

“Charlie?” George called, knocking on the door.

Charlie tucked you behind him and undid the spell, peeking the door open. “If you say another word, you're dragon food,” he growled, and you had to clap a hand over your mouth to keep from laughing.

“You got a girl in there, mate?” George asked, and you could hear the shit-eating grin on his face.

“George,” Charlie warned.

“Fine, fine. You've got ten minutes before I actually need to get in there.” George knocked once more then strode away, his footsteps disappearing down the hall.

Charlie sagged against the door, exhaling. “I'm sorry, love,” he said, turning to you.

You pecked his cheek. “Don't be sorry, that was the best lay of my life.” You tried to reassure him, despite the curdling sadness in your chest.

A shy smile broke through his serious expression. “Yeah?”

You nodded. “I can only imagine how good it would be when we had all the time in the world,” you murmured against his ear, a shiver rolling down his spine. It was better to leave it like this, flirty, casual, than with whatever…that was.

“I mean, we’ve got ten minutes…”

You patted his chest and slipped out of the door, finding George waiting at the end of the hall, arms crossed.

His jaw dropped. “Y/n!”

Charlie ran out behind you. “I swear to God, George—”

“Are all Weasley's this dramatic?” You closed George's mouth with a finger under his chin.

“Where did—when did—how?” George stuttered, looking back and forth between the two of you.

Charlie smirked, shrugging back on his blazer. “I'll explain when you're older,” Charlie teased. “Would you like a drink, y/n?”

“I'd love one.“ You threaded your arm through his, and together returned to the party.

+ ° . ๑・° ⊹ . + ° . ๑・° ⊹ . + ° . ๑・° ⊹ . +

Thanks for reading!

If you enjoyed, please check out my published work here.

Much love,

Allie

[pinescent-and-gingerbread]

˖✧ The Jackpot

✦ Pairing: Arthur Morgan x Fem!Reader ✦ Summary: You join Arthur and the boys for a job on the Grand Korrigan riverboat where you act as Arthur’s lap girl. The man in question is more than excited about this decision. ✦ Warnings: Guns, mention of shooting, swearing, SMUT, oral (reader receiving), edging if you squint, unprotected p in v ✦ Words: 3,8k ✦ a/n: A big heartwarming thank you to @zae-heeyyy!! Who took the time to correct my dumb spelling and give me her thoughts on this before publishing it! Please go check her work, I swear it won't disappoint! Also: pictures are not mine! I usually try to use a pic for Arthur from my own playthrough but I'm fcking stuck on Guarma rn. Found them on Pinterest.

Dim lights are flickering all around you, making the golden ornaments of the luxurious place you're in shine like a thousand stars. You couldn't believe this gigantic reception room, gratified by a bar, a grand piano, and of course, three elegant poker tables, was actually floating on water right now, as you were on the Grand Korrigan boat, the jewel of its kind, den of the richest gentlemen in St. Denis, in search for some amusement and of course, even more money.

Trelawny and Herr Strauss had plotted a well-crafted deal that could earn a lot of money for the gang. Along with Javier disguised as one of the guards, Arthur would act as a new wealthy businessman who had just made a fortune in oil. Strauss would give him signals during his poker game, which guaranteed him to win considering Trelawny had made a friend out of the dealer.

You? You'd play his mistress, sitting on his lap during the game to make the scene look more convincing. On top of that, you had been able to hide a little gun in a hidden pocket in the underside of your dress, guaranteeing some extra protection, which wasn't a bad idea considering the Grand Korrigan was heavily armed and neither Arthur, Trelawny nor Strauss had one.

So here you were, thriving in your role, comfortably sitting on Arthur's lap, hands wrapped around his neck, both legs hanging on his left side. His arms were enveloping you, hands resting on the edge of the table as he was focusing on his cards.

Well, more like trying to focus, actually.

Maybe it was because you two had started a quite passionate relationship a few weeks ago, sneaking in each other's tent, simple kisses and whispers in the night quickly turning into something more, the both of you having cravings to fulfill.

Maybe it was because Trelawny, the damned man, had chosen a particularly suggestive dress for you to wear, comforting your play considering wives weren't allowed at the poker tables, only work girls and such, your cleavage on full display for his immoral eyes.

Maybe it was the way he could feel the round and warm flesh of your ass even through the fabric of your clothes, right where he wanted to, making his brain impossible to function properly, desperately trying to keep the hardness between his legs to stay in line.

Either way, Arthur had to make enormous efforts to focus on the job and was frankly relieved Strauss was telling him what to do; despite being a pretty good poker player, he would never have been able to win the easiest of games in this state.

Strauss told him to go all-in. He did. You smiled, you would have lied saying you weren't enjoying yourself right now. You had known far worse jobs than playing Arthur's lover. Much to your surprise, he had played a really convincing character through the night too, his usual mumbling far gone, replaced by a bright and confident speech and a cheeky grin that was making you want to kiss it even more. In fact, you wanted to take care of him just to see this cocky smirk flatter under your touch, replaced by a pleasured expression on his handsome face.

It was easy to say both of you were acting pretty good, but inside felt like two teenagers in love.

Arthur had won another hand, men were starting to leave the table, angry. It was only you both and the target now, an opulent man known as Desmond Blythe, loaded with money thanks to his hosiery business.

You pulled a cigarette out of Arthur's pocket along with a match, and you felt his breath hitch for an instant when you slipped your hand in it. Rubbing the match against the wood of the table, you lighted the cigarette casually, little flame illuminating a thin grin on your lips. You took a small drag on it to make sure the tobacco had plainly burnt, then you placed the cigarette in front of Arthur's lips, holding it for him between your index and middle finger, so that he could smoke on it while keeping both his hands on his cards.

It was downright one of the hottest things anybody had done to him and he was starting to lose it. Wrapping his lips around your offering and smoking a long drag, he allowed himself to avert his gaze from his opponent for a few seconds, planting his turquoise pupils into yours.

His eyes were half-lidded, long lashes accentuating the languorous gaze he was giving you. Your heart started racing. The power this man had on you was insane, but if only you knew what you were doing to him in return. You had a glimpse of it though, right there in the depths of his two blue diamonds, this so distinctive dark glow of him, direct window on the sinful pit of his urges.

You were sure your own eyes were mirroring it. And it got worse when, after exhaling some smoke, he quickly kissed the palm of your hand, indicating he had smoked enough, the warm sensation of his chapped lips on your skin giving you goosebumps. His eyes went back to Blythe, and you exhaled as if you had been holding your breath during the whole time you had locked eyes.

You retrieved your hand, taking a drag yourself on the cigarette after him, loving the idea of sharing it with him, of putting your lips right where he did a few seconds before, your biased brain telling you you could taste sweet remnants of him there.

Another all-in, another hand won by Arthur who couldn't stop himself from smiling this sly cocky smirk, eyes sparkling with mischief.

"Shit, shit!" Blythe shouted, hitting on the table with his fists furiously.

"I guess ma luck held... Is that you done?" Arthur asked him, his tone triumphant while bending over the table to gather his not-so-well-deserved chips. "Or, do you got somethin' else to play with?" He added more lowly, his baritone voice almost making you shiver just hearing it.

"Meaning?" Desmond questioned back, visibly frustrated. Looked like frustration was a popular feeling around this poker table tonight, about the game or other things...

Arthur had gotten up from his chair and you too, now standing by his side, partially glued to his body as he had snaked an arm around your waist while finishing to put in order his chips. He answered using the same taunting, arrogant tone as before.

"Well, I heard there was some big boys on this boat, maybe that's not you, no offense-"

"Sit your and your whore's hillbilly asses down." The rich men cut him off, voice dark and serious.

You felt Arthur's hand grip tighter on your waist. For a faint moment, you thought that his cover would collapse, considering how tense he had gotten hearing him calling you a whore. But the way he was still smiling was almost even more scary, it was a false, threatening one. The kind of smile that hides a cold anger, boiling silently inside.

"Why?" Arthur simply answered, tone brilliantly contained considering the way his muscles were flexing on their own under his fancy suit.

"I got a watch... An expensive one, swiss... a Reutlinger no less. It's in the safe, upstairs. It's worth more than you."

You forced yourself not to cross eyes with Arthur. Your target. He had just confirmed what you were all here for. Perfect, just a bit more of this whole play and Arthur would be able to access the strongbox.

"Okay, I trust ya." Arthur consented while sitting back on his chair, placing you with his two big hands back at your place, on his lap. You were definitely loving this job. You'd have to thank Trelawny for it, someday.

The rest of the game passed just like before, your outlaw ultimately winning once more thanks to your colleague's little trick. Desmond was furious, and you obtained your goal.

Arthur happily got up once again, gently helping you stand, one of his hands naturally resting on your shoulder. Before following the gentleman who was supposed to bring him to the safe, he bent over to you, head brushing against yours, his stubble and hairs tickling your cheeks. He whispered in your ear, voice deep and hoarse, this one voice that was always making your head turn.

"When we're finished here, I'm gonna take care of ya, darlin'."

You sighed, cracking up a sly smirk, your cheeks turning a bit red. These simple words were enough to make the heat between your thighs make itself known; crying out for attention. Being so close like this was allowing you to breathe in his scent, its combination on top of his breath on your ear was a dangerous mix for your sanity. You took the opportunity of having his skin so close to your lips to place a small kiss on his neck, right below his own ear.

Arthur smiled at you, his bright blue eyes sparkling as he took a last look at you before walking off. You sighed softly again, already missing his presence. The wait for some time alone was only making your own needs grow.

You were only hoping the job would end up smoothly.

Of course, it didn't. 

Desmond, sore loser, had accused Arthur of cheating. That and the fact that the guard Javier had knocked off to steal his clothes had appeared out of nowhere yelling to shoot him had set things on fire on the Grand Korrigan, the boat now witness to a heated shooting the Van Der Linde Gang was known for.

You had instantly pulled out your hidden gun and helped Arthur clean up the place thanks to Javier who had thrown him a rifle. The night had ended with your incongruous team jumping straight in the water, swimming back to the shore, a quite odd and armed to the teeth fish shoal. At least, everyone was alive, and you even had obtained a pretty decent amount of money, not even mentioning the watch Strauss had authenticated as a real Reutlinger. Arthur had quickly taken back the precious object from his greedy hands, "well give it back then", which made you laugh to yourself.

True to himself, your cowboy had instructed everyone to separate and get out of the shore, as always after a job. You were all quite a sight, soaked to the bones. As you were greeting everyone a good night, Arthur silently walked to you and grabbed your hand. Even with the water you both had leaking from your clothes to your skin, you could feel how warm his hand was, contrasting yours which was completely freezing cold from having swam in the icy waters. You wondered if this man was even human.

"But you, Miss, are comin' with me." He playfully informed you, not leaving you any choice.

It was not as if you wanted to go anywhere else anyway.

"Really now? What d'ya have in mind, cowboy?" You asked him with an equally mischievous tone on your own, your eye glued to the way his hair looked completely soaked, subtle rivulets sliding all the way from it to his neck.

"Maybe we could pay ourselves a well-deserved night in town..." He proposed, voice turning more and more into a low growl as he was letting his desires take the lead on his reason.

"I would love that." You simply agreed, before getting closer to him, tilting your head up to bring your lips to his. He gladly let you, one hand still holding yours, the other gently landing on the side of your face.

The walk to the La Bastille Saloon was supposed to be a short one, but you both looked like you couldn't wait to be there before teasing each other. You would sometimes stop walking to just attack his neck, lips merciless as you sucked and kissed him there. Your taunting acts were often met with his equally heated answer, one of his palms ending on your ass, or your thighs, your wet clothes transparent and glued to your curves not helping him to keep his touch away from these places of your body. Arthur's breath sharpened as he called you his lil minx, and no, darlin’, we can't just do it on the streets.

Finally, after having shocked the barman by arriving at such late hours in completely soaked clothes, which honestly just made the both of you laugh mischievously, you reached your love nest for the night.

And what a nest! Silk sheets, canopy bed, sumptuous decor glistening with the dim lights of the chandeliers. Even the floor looked comfortable, carpeted with some fancy patterns, matching the couch and bed's color. Red, just like passion, just like lust. Red, like the color of your cheeks right now as Arthur had closed the door and was already on his knees, placing you on the edge of the mattress. Red, just like what Arthur was seeing right now, hungry hands pulling your dress up, positioning himself between your thighs.

You looked down at him, his darkened eyes looking at you. You noticed he had ripped off his fancy tie, needing to breathe properly, the heat between you both already making him suffocate. In those moments, his beautiful pupils were always shining with a more murky color, his usual sky blue turning into a more cobalt one. They were staring intensely into yours, expression questioning. A silent demand. You nodded positively, quietly answering. Dooming yourself.

The moment you did, he buried his head between your legs, left hand resting on your hip, holding you gently. His lips started kissing softly on the fabric of your undergarments. His other hand quickly came, helping him in his task by pulling it to the side, granting him access.

The moment his lips met your folds, you let out a moan, unable to resist the feeling he was giving you. He was loving it, his ears getting redder as he was more and more aroused himself. He was so big between your thighs, his shoulders were spreading them almost completely open.

He licked in a long, slow movement all the way to the top of your pussy, making you sigh in pleasure already, hips jerking against his head, begging for more.

"Easy, girl... I've got ya." He soothed you hoarsely, left hand holding you more firmly to prevent you from crushing him totally. Nevertheless, he took your eagerness into account; he couldn't deny you anything. Not when it came to sex. Not when you were so beautiful in this ostentatious dress. Not when he had grown more and more found of you, even if he was refusing to admit it to himself completely for now.

He brought his lips on the top of your core, tongue gently circling around this so special knot of nerves, his stubble scratching pleasantly against your skin, bringing you even more sensations.

It was already so good, Arthur's mouth showing you no pity, licking, sucking, kissing, as if you were becoming the only food he could ever feast on, the only oxygen he could breathe with. The sight of his broken nose buried beneath your skin, as if he was searching to go even deeper within you was almost too much for you to handle. Your hands that were gripping the sheets had now found the top of his head, spurring him to continue, please please please, Arthur, more, or you could have died right here on the fancy bed of the La Bastille Saloon.

Arthur's tongue answered your begging call, lapping your sensitive spot faster, harder. How the Hell was that man so good at pleasuring a woman? That, sinful, dirty man, just like the sounds you were letting out right now.

Your vision started to blur, the back of your head sinking onto the mattress, your back arching deliciously, and you were going to let him know just how close you were until he stopped all of a sudden.

"A-Arthur!" You protested, head snapping back at him, eyes pleading, tone both offended and needy as his name had sounded more like a whine when it had felt from your mouth.

He smiled cockily at you from where he was, his mouth looking wet with your arousal. He loved it, he loved being responsible for it.

"I'm here, girl... I jus' need ya too much right now. Lemme just..."

His voice was now a low rumble, coming from the depth of his chest. You watched as he quickly ripped off his clothes with little care for them. Trelawny would have shouted at how he was treating one of the most expensive suits he had ever brought.

But he didn't care about the suit. And neither do you, as your eyes were devouring every inch of his flesh that was appearing under them. The sight of a completely naked Arthur always had the same effect on you, no matter how many times you already had seen it.

His muscular body looked like it had been carved by Angels. No, more likely by an angry, dark God, who would have sculpted him from a hard and brutal material, his many scars and blurs a remnant of it. You could almost picture his tools molding your lover's broad chest and shoulders with sharp, furious hammer blows. His powerful arms and legs had received the same treatment, as if the deity wanted to pass on all of his brutal force into his creation. And his cock was definitely no exception to it.

And yet, this massive force of nature was blushing under your gaze. He couldn't have resisted the hurtful sensation of emptiness around his shaft, one of his hands now giving himself a few strokes to try and relieve some of it. His eyes closed in a frown for a few seconds, your pussy burned at this unholy scenery he was offering you.

You were in such a state of need it was almost depraved. You quickly got rid of your own clothes, tossing them somewhere on the floor of the room, needing to share this intimacy with him, to feel his skin against yours.

"Oh, please... Arthur, jus' take me..." You asked yourself before he could probe your adequation. You knew him well now, you already knew the next words he was going to speak would be another demand to make sure you truly wanted this.

He seemed to enjoy how you had forecasted it, his eyes opening again to look at you, his cock hardening even more, precum slowly leaking from its top, wasting all the efforts he had done to relieve it a bit.

"If that's what you want darlin'... I'm your man." He answered in a growl, climbing next to you on the bed.

You weren't sure why but his last words had made your heart swell in your chest. You were sure, deep down inside of you, that he meant it in another way. He really had become yours, and you, his. Lost in your thoughts, you let him handle you gently, placing you on your belly against the silk sheets, lying himself on top of you, legs between yours.

You slightly moved your rear up against his erection, earning a grunt of pleasure from him. Saying he had loved it was an understatement; he had been thinking about doing this with you since you had sat on him on the riverboat.

Using his right hand, he placed his cock against your entrance, and finally started pushing, your pussy already ready for him thanks to his ministrations, your mouth mewling at the sensation. Your perfect, hot walls were finally enveloping him, and he tried his best not to come just from that intense feeling alone.

He was so big and tall behind you, his head could reach yours and he buried it onto the crook of your neck, his hair still wet offering you a cold feel, contrasting with his whole hot chest pressed on your back, making you feel as if a literal inferno was burning it. He slowly started to pull back, only to shove himself in you again, starting a slow but intense back and forth.

"God, damn it... 'Feel so good girl..." He mumbled against your skin, his arms encircling you from both sides, caging you under his tall figure.

You sighed at his praise, wanting to answer something to compliment him back, but he snapped his hips just at the same time, making you shut your eyes close, and moan louder than before. Your voice was starting to crack under the amount of pleasure he was bringing to you, hard shaft brushing this deep spot within your core every time his hips moved, hitting just right where you needed him to.

He had noticed, and it was only making him lose his mind even more, unable to keep his pace slow, letting his body unleashed. He had waited this whole night to bury himself in you, listened to this moron calling you names without having the right to punch his goddamn idiotic face. He couldn't hold anything back anymore.

He started thrusting more frantically, pistoning his cock in and out of you so fast and hard he was now fucking you onto the bed. His right hand grabbed a fistful of your ass, the feeling of it colliding with his pelvis with every thrust making him insane, the other one next to your left shoulder, preventing him from crushing you completely.

You could feel it, the familiar feeling, the divine relief, building more and more thanks to him, the pace increasing your pleasure. Feeling how impossibly hard his sex had gotten in your cunt, you knew he was close too. This simple fact was the last push to your deliverance.

"A-Arthur! God, yes!" You screamed, unable to form any coherent thoughts, existing simply for this, for this moment with him, naked on the bed of this saloon. Just you and him.

"Oh, darlin’, shit!" Your orgasm had made your walls clench even more around his dick, exploding his limit. He quickly removed himself from you, and finished at the last second on your back and ass, his burning release painting your skin in flaming spurts. His very own sinful art piece.

The room felt silent again. The air stifling from your lovemaking, the only sounds being heard were your sharp, quickened breaths. Arthur took a few seconds to collect himself, feeling better and so satisfied, almost euphoric. Turning your head to the side, you took a glimpse of your lover's gorgeous state. Hair messy, cheeks and ears crimson, sweat dripping everywhere on his skin, chest rising and falling in big, profound exhales.

He then grabbed a piece of fabric from one of the wardrobes to gently wipe off his seed from you, and tossed it away, wanting nothing more but to rest against you now. A perfect contrast, from an agitated, stormy sea to a quiet, secret cove. As if you were the only one who could see him like this, vulnerable, loving even.

You watched him lay by your side on his back, your head still feeling dizzy, slowly coming back from a world of fantasies. You snuggled against him, resting your head on his chest, and he wrapped his arms around you, feeling spent but so, so happy. And you felt the same. Still naked, skin against skin, heart beating together, just the two of you.

Tonight had been quite something, and despite having won a few thousand dollars, it was definitely not money that was making Arthur feel like he had hit the jackpot.

[nthspecialll]

The fandom glorifies Arthur Morgan

Now I am not talking about about low honor, I play high honor and got it as the top at the end of every damn playthrough but my Arthur, as it is the cannon Arthur, is not a good guy. I am not going to talk about all of the murder, robbing and stuff he does, because we are majorly aware of it, I am talking his sexism, casual ignorance and disrespecfulness.

I quite often see people say that Arthur Morgan is a woman lover, and he definitely is, he is better than a lot of men from that time (which isn't hard), but he would not hold up in modern times, because he is not from modern times.

Generally speaking, Arthur Morgan is a man who believes in gender roles, he believes in the idea of "a man being a man" and "a woman being a woman." He has opinions about what a woman should do and what a man should do.

I think the biggest hint at this is his relationship with Sadie, because while he accepts her running with the boys he doesn't seem entirely happy about it. "You got a pair of pants and all of a sudden you think you're Landon Ricketts?" "You want to ruuuunnnn with the men?" and also "can Ms Grimshaw spare you?" when the girls asks if they can come to Valentine with him.

Talking of that quest, when he runs off to get Jimmy Brooks he puts Uncle, a lazy old bastard, in charge of getting the girls home even though they are more than capable of doing it themselves as they are healthy young women who knows how to handle horses.

In several antagonize lines against women performers (which are just as cannon as his greet lines) he shouts things like "That isn't very ladylike!" or "Go back to the kitchen" and "go make someone supper."

People keep saying Arthur would "treat them right" and he would, to an extent, he would care for you, he would be nice to you, but he would force those gender roles. He does have a belief women are somehow "softer" and that he as a person with a provider gene should do more of the harsh work.

So now we covered that, lets talk about the racism, or as I probably should rather call it, ignorance, because it is very commonly know Arthur does not judge by the color of skin.

The first one is that Arthur uses the whites-only saloon in Rhodes. Tilly mentions it to Arthur that they don't allow people of color into it, and yet he still supports it, it isn't a big thing but it is something of notice.

Secondly, when he talks to Eagle Flies where he "sets him in his place" Arthur, honey, you are so wrong here. Eagle Flies is being chased by the government for the mere fact that he exists with a different culture, you are being chased because you murdered so many folks, you can run across the sea and live a good life, they are fucked regardless.

When we first arrive in Lemoyne, Lenny and Arthur talks about the Lemoyne Raiders about racism and Arthur says "These boys got a manner about them but I haven't particularly noticed," Arthur of course you wouldn't, you are a tall, muscular, white man with sun kissed hair and blue eyes, you are the poster boy for eugenics.

Lastly, which will also bring me to the third point, the casual disrespect:

Arthur causally calling Javier a slur on the boat for no reason, did you really need that one-liner so badly? That goes for a lot of times in the game such as: "are you secretly normal" "what a lunatic" "we should find a better story for that scar" "But you continue to irritate me, I will kill you and make my appologies to the lady" "stick around and you might die for her as well" "oh I didn't know I was talking to a lady." All those were a slight bit disrespectful, enough to be able to annoy the majority of us if he said it to us, and they were also unnecessary.

He is also canonically chronically late, most notably we can hear Sean saying "that man will be late to his own funeral," and when you go around antagonizing characters in camp they are not surprised at all, rather they go "back at it again huh?"

All of this is just to sum up, Arthur is a pretty bad man (also counting in all the illegal stuff) and we tend to glorify him and forget some of these things, partly is also because Rockstar are amazing at hiding them, at making them seem natural, and they are because this is a historically accurate game! It is set in 1899 and this is a man from 1899 he is going to be casually sexist and disrespectful, and again, considering that he is from 1899 he is a decent guy because the majority of folk would be like Micah, not Arthur.

I definitely love Arthur, and I love Arthur exactly because the point of his character is him not being a saint but a human. His redemption is choosing to do good where he can, but even so, this is a man in 1899 and he is going to have a 1899 mindset. If you want to play a game that is set in the past but don't have that type of accuracy it is not Red Dead you want to play.

Also here is an Arthur pic as a thank you for reading all of that. I love him.

[marksbear2]

Need Tommy Shelby to put me down and fuck me dumb while he call me his good boy, i‐ 🏃‍♂️‍➡️🏃‍♂️‍➡️🏃‍♂️‍➡️

🧀anon

My man my mannn, him and Arthur are my favorite out of the whole show. I’m gonna write a small lil thing abt this. And hi 🧀!!

⚠️Warnings!! Bottom reader, Praising, dirty talk, talking through it, spooning, cuddle sex, jerking off, short since I didn’t wanna write bottom reader 😭. And etc⚠️

Thomas Shelby x male reader

The bed squeaked and hit the headboard, grunts and moans falls from both men’s lips. Skin to skin as the Shelby’s hand wondered and touched your chest while kissing and nibbling on his neck. Both men were laying their sides spooning each other.

Tommy’s hips snapped back and forth thrusting his cock deep inside of you.

You let out a shaky breath as you feel Tommy’s lips kiss your ear then lower kissing down your jawline before down your neck.

“Your a good boy, taking my cock like a go lil thing, yeah.” Tommy praises as his tongue trailed down your neck. You’ve never heard Tommy this affectionate. He probably was wanted something after this, but you couldn’t care for the moment.

You feel his hand move down from your chest and to your cock wrapping his hand around it and jerking you off at the rhythm of his thrust.

“Good boy, good boy. Just like that huh?~” Tommy says kissing the side of your face as he thrusted in and out of you.

He either wanted something after this or disappear for weeks after this. You didn’t even understand why you let him do this to you. But you couldn’t help it. Thomas was perfect.

“Wanna cum?— can you be a good boy and cum for me?” Tommy asks breathing heavy by your ear as he jerks your cock off faster.

“I’ll be your good boy, I’ll cum!” You respond back in a weak moan as he jerks off your cock.

“Good boy, cum for me, cum for me.” He says as he squeezed your cock and stroked it with his rough hand.

You couldn’t hold off your orgasm any longer.

With a few more heavy moans and gasping you cum. Your cock spurts out its cum over Tommy’s hand and some getting onto the sheets.

Your hips thrust into his hand as he milks your cock. 

“Good boy.“

“You hear me, love? Good boy.”

THE END

[bunnys-kisses]

Hello!! Could I please get an order for Charles leclerc for chocolate cake and berry trifle on the house?? Thank you I love your writing :))

bakery menu

want to submit your own order? then hit up the menu for more information! i know some folks have been asking if i write for other fandoms and i do! i accept from the likes of bg3 to call of duty, but i'd love to experiment outside my comfort zone! all i ask is that the person or character is over 18 (for obvs reasons)! as for this sweet little prompt, i couldn't say no to a lovely little fic starring charles! i chose for the on the house order to be an AU for school, just to switch things up (i hope that's okay!) but thank you!

chocolate cake ("do you feel that? that's what happens when i think about you all day.") + berry trifle ("wrong. try again.") + on the house: coconut water (alternate universe - university au) served by charles leclerc (formula one)!

cw: smut/pwp, university au, missionary, gentle sex, praise, romantic, student!reader, student!charles

it had been a busy last couple of weeks, with the wind down of university. you were rather tired, often spending nights in your boyfriend's apartment due to it being closer to the university you both attended.

the apartment was three bedrooms, where charles and his two brothers all lived. it was a bit of a party when you slept over, and you were certain that arthur was using the shampoo you left there. regardless, you still got a good night's sleep and breakfast in the morning.

dinners were more your forte.

charles wrapped his arms around you and dipped his nose into the crook of your neck. he moved you from side to side as you checked on the pasta noodles. he whispered in your ear, an intimate moment between you two, "do you feel that? that's what happens when i think about you all day."

you giggled and looked over your shoulder to get a better view of him, "are you sure you're not trying to seduce me to get my recipe."

he kissed your cheek softly, "no, no. if i wanted that, i'd simply marry you. then you can make it for me for the rest of my life." he laughed.

"where's my plate?" you heard arthur's voice at the front door. you froze for a moment as the youngest brother put his bag down and headed towards the small kitchen.

charles looked his brother and said, "wrong. try again."

the two men looked at one another and arthur said, "you can't be hogging all the food, charles. you have to share too!"

charles glared at his brother, "my girlfriend is making it! you can make your own. don't you have somewhere else to be tonight?"

you chuckled and got out of your boyfriend's arms to strain the noodles. you couldn't deny, it wasn't a day without interest when you stayed with them. you'd like to say that the three of them got along quite well, but they were all brothers after all.

after dinner, you and charles went to his bedroom, leaving the dishes to be done in the morning. once the door was closed behind you, he started to pull at the bottom of your t-shirt, getting it over your head.

your lips touched his and you started to undo the buttons of his shirt before it was off your shoulders and your hands were splayed across his chest. the kisses were tender, but they were slowly starting to grow more hungry.

he stripped you of your clothes with a little help from you then he was taking his own clothes off. he loved the sight of you by him, in the low light of his bedroom.

the city was alive outside and the lamp on his nightstand cascaded a warm light throughout the room. his hands trailed along your body and you kissed him deeply on the lips. he loved the taste of the chapstick you often wore, he melted a little further into your kisses before he got you onto your back.

he propped himself by his hands on either side of you. he looked down at you and rubbed his cock up against you. you blushed and wanted to cover your face with your hands.

"no, no." he said softly, "i want to look at you, you're so beautiful. especially when i am having sex with you." he guided his cock into you and watched you squirm a little bit.

oh, you were so beautiful was all he could think about as he slipped in nicely. you tensed up and clung to his shoulders. there was a soft intimacy to it as the two of you kissed once more. you could feel the pleasure wrap in your gut as you moved against him.

"i love you." you said.

"i love you too." he panted, "you're beautiful. stunning and so smart. i want you for the rest of my days. i cannot wait until we have our own home together." his kisses were sweet as he rutted against you.

you smiled up at him, "you're such a sucker for me."

charles said, "then i'll be your sucker" he knew you loved him too, you just had a hard time accepting his praise. but too bad, he'll keep praising you for the rest of your lives! even when you are old and grey.

you leaned into his touch and moaned against him as your bodies moved together. you held onto his shoulders and your expression changed when he rubbed up against the sweetest parts of you.

"i want you forever, charles." you said softly, "i'm so happy to be with you. thank you, you've made university more manageable because you're with me. so thank you."

he chuckled and pressed his forehead against yours, his body still moving, "no need, my love." then went in for another tight kiss.

you two were a good fit, you studied together, ate together. you both had friends of course, but charles enjoyed spending time with you. you remembered one time he went clubbing with a few people in his program and you received a photo from carlos of charles passed out on a couch with his phone open. on his screen was a picture of you, he had fallen asleep looking at you.

it was endearing, and it made the blush got up to your ears.

"i need you." you said softly.

"i need you more." he replied with the same tenderness.

you held onto him and kissed him deeply as you tightened your legs around him. the kiss grew hotter as you felt yourself reach the peak of climax. you moaned into the kiss and clung to him tightly.

his pace started to stagger after you climaxed. he groaned into your kiss as he started to really push his cock as deep as it would go. his head felt heavy with lust as he moved against you. when he broke the kiss, he looked at you with a big smile on his face and said, "i love you." before he got every last centimeter into you and climaxed.

he continued to move against you for a couple more moments before he slowed down to a stop. he kissed you roughly on the lips and said quietly, "mine." before he laid out beside you on the bed.

both naked, sweaty and tired. charles pulled you against him and kissed the side of your neck. he basked in your warmth and whispered sweet nothings into your ear.

"you're still not getting the recipe." you giggled.

he held onto you tighter and said, "my love, i already told you my plan. once we're finished with school, i want to marry you. and you can make me that pasta for the rest of my days." he laughed a little and kissed you once more.

you felt gooey inside and nestled against him. you sight contently, that sounded like a plan. <3

[whereforarthur]

Masterlist~

All of my work compiled in one place. Please like and reblog if you enjoy them, feedback is greatly appreciated. Requests are open!

(Updated 11/18/2024) 

(X) = coming soon

ItalianBach~

Fluff: 

You’re The Only Man I Want to Kiss

- Isaac and his girlfriend y/n react to Women Rank Men by Kissing

Smut:

Ménage à trois (Threesome w/ ArthurTv)

- Who knew fan fictions could cause so much pleasure?

Ménage à trois (Part 2)

- Having had a threesome the night before leads to an interesting and revealing podcast episode, leading their friends to question what truly happened?

ArthurTV~

Angst:

Unrequited Love Hurts Like A Bitch

- Being in love with your best friend sucks, especially when he doesn't feel the same way

Unrequited Love Hurts Like A Bitch (Part 2)

- Soulmates are two best friends who fell in love

Fluff: 

Being Stuck in an Elevator Never Looked so Good?

- Getting trapped in an elevator with your favorite YouTuber, was not what you had planned for today

Love At First Podcast

- Falling in love with you was easy

Smut:

"Women weaken legs"

- After your boyfriend Arthur was in boxing training camp and was forced to go 6-8 weeks without distractions and sex, he goes feral for his girlfriend when he gets out

Ménage à trois (Threesome w/ ItalianBach)

- Who knew fan fictions could cause so much pleasure?

Ménage à trois (Part 2)

- Having had a threesome the night before leads to an interesting and revealing podcast episode, leading their friends to question what truly happened?

The Two Arthur’s (with Arthur Hill)

- Virgin!Reader goes to her friends for comfort not expecting them to comfort her in such a way

George Clarkey~

Fluff: 

Musicians want to be the loud voice for so many quiet hearts - Reader is a famous singer and George follows her on tour and fans speculate they’re dating.

Wedding Day Bliss~ - George Clarke marries the love of his life

Dating Headcanons for George Clarke

I'll wear your name on my heart til I die

- The turmoils and happiness that comes with giving birth

Smut:

Tummy Obsessed Much? - George's favorite body part on his girlfriend is her stomach

Wedding Night Bliss~

- A fluffy smut of the events that transpired after your and George's wedding night.

It’s Good to Be Home

- could you do a clarkey version of homecoming?

A Night In

- A perfect night in with your boyfriend is very pleasurable

It's Been Way Too Long

- “I think I'd miss you even if we never met.”

Love and Hate Are Blurred Lines

- “How would it be.. if all my hate disappeared like my youth, if after all this time his very hatred of me turned out to be something gentle, some kind of love.”

Caught Red Handed

- Who knew taking a risk could lead to this much pleasure?

So Much Restraint

ChrisMD~

Angst:

We'll Never Last

- It hurts to be something, it's worse to be nothing with you

Fluff: 

Fate is in The Stars (PlusSize!Reader)

- A chance encounter at a concert leads to more than you expected

Drunk and Touchy

- Chris fluff where he's a bit tipsy and can't keep his hands off his girlfriend

I Didn't Know Punk Girls Blushed

- Golden retriever boy falls for punk grumpy girl

What If We Were More Than Friends?

- Falling in love as best friends was unexpected

Smut:

Arthur Hill~

Angst:

Brother's Flatmate

- George’s sister and Arthur can’t stand each other, right?!?

Fluff: 

Am I a Burden to You?

- Arthur’s been working a lot and y/n misses him, she brings this up and he gets angry and calls her ‘clingy’ before realising he messed up and makes it up to her (angst —> soft)

Piano Nights

- Y/N and Arthur meet at a musician's party, where she spots him and confidently pursues him. They sleep together, and they end up dating, leaving Arthur in awe and a massive simp.

Dating Headcanons for Arthur Hill

Smut:

“Sex is an Emotion in Motion”

- Arthur takes care of you after a rough night in the sheets

It’s painful, loving someone from afar.

- Y/N is on holiday with all of the boys and there’s tension between Arthur hill and her, and everyone can see it and they’re just waiting for something to happen. (Soft Smut)

Homecoming

- When Arthur returns from vacation, he misses his girlfriend greatly causing things to get freaky

The Two Arthur’s (with ArthurTv)

- Virgin!Reader goes to her friends for comfort not expecting them to comfort her in such a way

A Delightful Surprise

All~

Dating Headcanons

George Clarke

Arthur Hill

ArthurTV

ChrisMD (X)

ItalianBach (X)

Featuring more than 2 of the boys~

Poker Night Never Felt So Right

ArthurTv x Reader x George Clarke x Chrismd

A game of strip poker with your friends, goes a little further than anyone expected...

Said She Wanted Five Guys She Ain’t Talking about Burgers

Reader x George, Arthur Hill, Chris, Isaac and ArthurTv

Y/n shares her sexual intentions with five YouTubers. She invites them to join her fantasy, setting no limits on their actions. The group eagerly agrees, indulging in a passionate sexual encounter as they explore Y/n's desires one by one.

A/n: Let me know if anyone would like to be added to a taglist for all imagines or certain people!

[lovelybucky1]

Unbreakable (Tommy Shelby x reader)

warnings: dom/sub dynamics, cheating, sub!tommy, AFAB reader, degradation, riding, brat taming, extended metaphors, floor sex, misogyny

masterlist

Despite dating Arthur for some time now, you did not know his family very well. Of course, you knew them by reputation, who didn’t? But personally, Arthur’s brothers and aunt were mostly a mystery to you.

You expressed to Arthur how you’d like to meet them formally, and after a bit of grumbling from him about how he doesn’t want them to scare you off, he agrees. You set a date: Saturday night at the Garrison.

The rest of the week went quickly, and by Saturday evening, you’re sitting in front of your vanity getting ready. You apply your makeup, doing a bit more than usual, knowing Arthur’s family has a taste for nice things. You wear the delicate gold necklace Arthur had gifted you after only your second date. You loved it, of course, but that was when you realized just how intense the Shelby men are.

“Almost ready, love?” Arthur asks, coming into the room and standing behind you to straighten out his collar in the mirror.

“Yes, I just need my coat,” you say, making eye contact with him in the reflection.

Arthur leans down and presses a kiss to your cheek before leaving the room to get your coat. You put away your jewelry box and makeup, then stand to meet Arthur by the front door.

Ever the gentleman, Arthur holds out your coat and you slip your arms into the sleeves. He then wraps his arms around your waist to kiss you deeply. His chest feels solid against your back and you smile into the kiss, loving how good he is to you.

You break the kiss and look up into Arthur’s eyes. “Ready?”

He takes your hand and presses a kiss to the ring on your finger before opening the door.

“Lead the way, miss,” he smiles.

It isn’t a far walk from your flat to the Garrison. You’ve been there before, of course, but only with Arthur alone. He prefers to spend his time at your place, something about liking the peace. You know about the noise in his head, the constant battle behind his eyes, and you’re glad that you can be somewhat of a reprieve from it.

You walk across the wet cobbles of the street, hand in hand with Arthur. As masculine and manly as Arthur is, and with the amount that he exaggerates to compensate for his insecurities, it’s ironic that he is following behind you as you walk. You feel like you’re walking a dog with him trailing just slightly behind you as if he’s relying on you to direct him. Like he turns off his brain when he’s with you and lets you be in charge.

Soon you find yourself standing outside the pub, faces lit with the golden glow from inside. Arthur gives you a smile as he opens the door for you, and you step inside. The pub is loud, like every pub, but it’s not the commotion of a bar fight you’re hearing. It’s a joyous sound, like a celebration.

“Arthur!” you hear a man shout.

You look over and see your boyfriend embracing his brother John. When they part, John looks over at you.

“You must be the missus,” he jokes, making Arthur roll his eyes.

“Don’t put that idea in her head, John,” Arthur laughs.

“It’s already in my head, love. Now I just need a ring,” you tell Arthur.

The three of you laugh, and when it subsides, John ushers you over to the bar to get you both drinks.

A crystal glass of whiskey is shoved into Arthur’s hand, while a gin and tonic is handed to you. You thank John for the drinks and excuse yourself, holding onto Arthur’s arm and leading him away from the counter.

You walk around the room, searching for familiar faces. The men in the pub look like a rough crowd, but they’re all dressed nice enough and everyone is seemingly in high spirits, so you don’t worry.

Arthur finds his aunt and introduces you. Polly shakes your hand and you notice all of the rings that decorate her delicate hand.

“What beautiful jewelry,” you say.

Polly tips her chin up and smiles at you, obviously pleased with your compliment.

“Only the finest for us Shelby women,” she winks.

You smile back at her, then look over to Arthur who is watching with a smile of his own.

You figure Arthur must have talked about you at length to his family, because they all seem to know who you are, and from what you’ve heard about Aunt Polly, she doesn’t take kindly to strangers.

“Is Tommy ‘round?” Arthur asks Polly.

“He was. In a sour mood, he is. He wandered off a bit ago but I’m sure he’ll turn up,” she says before taking a sip of the drink in her hand.

“Right, well I’d like to show her off to the others, so if you don’t mind,” he puts his hand on your waist and brings you to the corner of the room where a group of men stand.

Arthur introduces you and they all shower you with compliments, but after that, you keep quiet and let the men talk about their business. After a while, you begin to grow bored with their conversation and you excuse yourself.

You take a lap of the pub, taking in your surroundings. Everyone seemed to fit in here; you were the only lone person in the room. It must be nice, you thought, to have such a strong sense of family. Even though most of these people aren’t related by blood, they’re loyal and trust each other, and what more do you need from a family?

You smile to yourself, imagining your future with Arthur. His infatuation with you makes you feel like a queen, and you want nothing more than to be with him. Of course, you know about the family business and the risks that entails, but you know Arthur will do whatever it takes to protect you. He’s like a guard dog, in a sense.

You look towards the bar at the drink choices, searching for something a bit more exciting than your usual, and while you are momentarily distracted, you don’t see the man you are about to bump into.

As soon as your shoulder hit his, he whipped his head around to glare at you. You look up at the man and your stomach drops when you realize who it is. Tommy Shelby is staring angrily back at you with a wet spot from his splashed drink on the front of his light gray vest.

“Oh my God, I am so sorry,” you apologize quickly.

You look around for a napkin or rag, but your attention is brought back to Tommy when he exhales sharply out of his nose and places his glass on the nearest table. He crosses his arms over his chest and looks down the bridge of his nose at you.

“You’re Arthur’s woman, right?” he asks instead of responding to your apology.

“That’s right,” you respond. You don’t like how he referred to you like you’re Arthur’s property, but you figure now is not the right time to correct him.

“Hm,” he hums, looking over your body judgingly. His icy eyes make you feel like he’s staring right through you, and it makes your skin crawl. “Are you a whore?”

The scoff leaves your mouth before you can stop it. “I beg your pardon?” you ask, incredulous.

“With the way you’re dressed, I would’ve thought you were advertising,” Tommy says. “I wouldn’t put it past Arthur.”

“No, I’m not.”

“How much do you charge? Mustn’t be very expensive. The good ones know how to mind their manners,” he continues like he hadn’t heard you deny his accusation.

“I’m not a fucking whore,” you say with a huff.

“Such crass language for a young lady. You’re a sailor, then?”

You furrow your brows in a mix of anger and confusion. You cannot understand why Tommy is being so rude to you, especially when you’ve never met before this moment. Arthur always said Tommy was the best, but that is certainly not the impression you’re getting.

“Forgive me if I’ve caught you at a bad time, Tommy, but I will not be talked to in such a way.”

Tommy leans back slightly and raises his eyebrow at you.

“I will talk to you any way I please.”

Tommy’s dismissive, almost bored tone digs under your skin. How dare he treat you like this? Especially when his brother loves you so much.

“I’ll be telling Arthur about this,” you tell him, trying to keep the flare of anger in your chest at bay.

“And I’ll be sure to tell Arthur to keep you on a tighter leash.”

You make a noise that’s a mix between a scoff and a laugh. “If either of us are on a leash, it’s him.”

Tommy looks a little surprised at your response but says nothing. He watches as you turn and make your way back to Arthur. You pull him away from the conversation and he follows blindly. Your anger is evident in your walk and your tight grip on Arthur’s bicep.

You drag him towards the snug, and Arthur scrambles in front of you to open the door to the room. There, you explain your interaction with Arthur’s miserable younger brother. Arthur assures you that he will talk to Tommy and convince him to give you another chance, and maybe even an apology.

“Tommy doesn’t like strong women. Feels intimidated or something,” Arthur explains to you, arm around your shoulder as you sit on the cushioned bench.

“Hard to believe you two are related,” you tease, rubbing your hand up Arthur’s thigh. Whatever smart response that was on his tongue died as you palm over his crotch. Arthur’s eyes flick between your face and your hand, waiting patiently for you to make your next move. “You’re going to take me home and apologize on your brother’s behalf.”

A grin splits Arthur’s face and he stands up, grabbing your hand and tugging you to your feet. You escape out of the front doors of the pub without saying goodbye, but neither of you cares. You’re not in a partying mood after Tommy insulted you, and Arthur’s only desire in the world is to make you happy.

-

Unfortunately, the clock on your relationship ran out before you were able to reconcile with Tommy, to no fault of your own. You decided to surprise Arthur at his house with a basket of his favorite baked goods when you caught him in bed with another woman.

You didn’t cry, didn’t yell, didn’t curse at him and damn him to hell. You turned on your heel and left as quickly as you came, never looking back.

Once you got back to your flat, you allowed yourself to process your emotions. Arthur had used you, that much was obvious. You made him feel better, feel good about himself, and he wanted to keep you around. He acted like he loved you; maybe he truly did but his head is just that fucked up. Either way, he betrayed your trust, and you were heartbroken.

Two weeks passed and you almost forgot about the lost relationship. You no longer dwelled on it, overanalyzing every action that could have made Arthur do what he did. You accepted that it was his mistake, his loss and that you’ll be just fine.

You continued working, grateful for your inherited flat because your meager income as a typist did not stretch very far. Life was back to normal, and you could almost forget about the whirlwind months spent with Arthur that left you with a broken heart. You almost did forget, until a reminder was standing on your doorstep late at night.

You had just finished your supper for one and were washing the dishes when you heard a knock at your door. You weren’t expecting a visitor, especially not at this hour. You open the door to reveal the last man you ever expected to see: Tommy Shelby. He doesn’t greet you, he just stands in your doorway with his hands deep in his pockets, looking at you expectantly.

“What are you doing here?” you ask, making a point to block the entrance of your home so he couldn’t barge in.

“I want to apologize,” Tommy said with a sigh, like this is a great burden to him.

You furrow your brows and stare back at him. “If you’re apologizing for your treatment of me at the party, I'm afraid you’re too late,” you say, not attempting to keep the bitterness from your voice.

“I want to apologize for what Arthur did,” he corrects.

“Why?” you ask.

“Let me inside and I’ll explain.”

You roll your eyes at his sense of entitlement to your time but step aside to allow him in. He walks into your flat and looks around, taking in the room. It’s nothing much; a small couple of rooms decorated eclectically with all of your favorite things. Tommy makes a bit of a face, but you’re not surprised. You bet his home is decorated with knives and guns and severed body parts from his enemies.

Tommy turns around to look at you. “You’re not going to offer me a drink?”

“You came here to apologize, not for a drink,” you counter.

“Fair enough.”

You lead him over to the sitting area. He sits in the plush leather chair while you sit in the center of the sofa.

“On with this apology,” you say.

“Right,” Tommy clears his throat. “I’m sorry for what Arthur did. You seemed like you were good to him, but Arthur isn’t meant for that kind of life.”

“What kind of life?”

“Domesticated.” Tommy leans back in his chair and rests his ankle on his knee. “See, Arthur is a fucking animal. He doesn’t think like a man, he acts on instinct.”

You hum and nod your head in faux agreement. “I already knew that. I spent a month house-training him, and I thought I did a fine job.”

“An animal like him can’t be broken.”

“I see. But wouldn’t that make you an animal as well? Seeing as you’re from the same litter and all,” you reply with a slight smirk.

“The distinction between man and beast comes down to intelligence. I am no animal.”

“I disagree. Man is just an animal that walks upright and can speak. If anything, I’d prefer an animal that acts on its base desires than a man who succumbs to vices and needless violence.”

It’s a direct jab, one that doesn’t go unnoticed by Tommy. He raises his eyebrow at you and watches you intently.

“I am not an animal,” Tommy says again. His insistence makes you want to doubt him even more.

“Maybe not, but men are even easier to break.” Tommy is silent after that. His blue eyes stare into you like they did when you first met, but now instead of anger burning behind them, you sense something different. “A few cigarettes, some booze, and some cunt would be enough for you, right?”

Tommy nods his head once. “Perceptive.”

“That’s why you’re here, isn’t it? To be broken?”

“Arthur talks when he’s drunk. Can you blame me for being curious?”

A flutter of excitement appears in your chest against your wishes. Luckily, this isn’t your first time. You’re able to school your expression into something of disinterest, mirroring his.

“You can be curious all you want. I don’t understand why you think anything would come from your visit.”

For the first time tonight, Tommy lets his stoic expression crack into a smirk. “Because you’re heartbroken and lonely and angry enough at Arthur that you want to get back at him.”

You swallow thickly. He’s not wrong, but you’d rather die right here on the couch than admit that.

“Quite presumptuous, Tommy. What if I promised myself to God, gone and became a nun in the past two weeks?”

“Nuns don’t wear dresses cut like that,” he smirks.

“What do you want?” you ask instead of responding to his jibe.

“I think that much is obvious,” he says before looking over your body.

“That’s not how this works. If we do this, you have to tell me what you want, or you’re not going to get it.”

“I see. So I have to humiliate myself and explain to you all the perverted things I want you to do to me just for the chance of you agreeing?”

“Yes,” you smirk.

He nods and reaches into his coat for his cigarette case and matchbook. A comfort, you think.

“Shall we start?” he asks, and when you nod, he continues. “I want you to take off your dress. Go slow and put on a show for me. Then I want you to get on your knees and suck my cock and get it nice and wet so I can fuck you.”

You listen, nodding as he talks. “Very good telling me what you want, but I’m afraid I don’t do things like that.” Tommy looks taken aback. “I don’t put on shows, I don’t get on my knees, and I certainly don’t let you fuck me.”

“Very well. Why don’t you tell me what it is you do then, eh?” Tommy says, a smirk still on his lips. God, you can’t wait for that expression to fall.

“If you insist,” you start. “I’ll put you on your knees, I’ll let you get me wet so I can fuck you. I’ll make you put on a show for me, nice and slow. Do you get the picture, Tommy?”

“I think I do,” he says, blowing smoke out of his nose and mouth.

“Are you interested?”

“I am.” You chuckle to yourself. “Does that surprise you?”

“Oh, not at all,” you smile. “Men like you are typically the ones who enjoy this most.”

“Men like me?”

“The ones who insist they aren’t animals, yet they beg to be treated like one. Wealthy, powerful, important men who carry so much stress that they just want to let it all go. Poor boys just need to let someone else do the thinking while they just feel.” Tommy’s lips part as he watches you. The words seemingly have an effect on him if the fidgeting of his legs is anything to go by. “Do you want that, Tommy? Do you want to let go?”

Tommy doesn’t answer you at first. He stubs his cigarette out in the ashtray on the table next to the chair and clasps his hands over his chest.

“I’d like to give it a try.”

You smile at him and lean back against the couch cushion. For a moment, it’s a stare-off. Tommy is waiting for you to make a move, while you’re doing the same to him. You raise your eyebrows and pat the couch cushion next to you. Surprisingly, Tommy gets up from the chair and moves to sit beside you.

“There we go,” you grin. “Now why don’t we start by taking off your jacket?”

Tommy nods and tugs his arms out of the sleeves, not breaking your gaze the whole time. He drapes the jacket over the back of the couch and now he’s left in his white shirt, vest, and gun holster. You look questioning at the gun strapped to his side.

“Planning to kill me or giving me something to use against you?” you ask.

“You know how to use it?” he asks instead of answering.

“It can’t be that hard. Any animal can manage it,” you whisper, leaning closer to him. His eyes narrow as he looks at you, but otherwise he has no reaction. “You know, your brother told me that you don’t fancy women like me. Strong women, ones who don’t roll over for you. That’s why you were so rude to me at the party, right? Because I spilled your drink and I didn’t immediately drop to my knees to suck your cock.”

“I like nice girls,” he says, licking his lips.

“You like nice girls to hang off your arm and to parade around to one-up your associates. But I think you do fancy women like me. You’re intimidated, sure, but I think you like that. Does it get you hot when a lady bosses you around, Tommy?”

He swallows audibly, but you don’t let it show that you heard. You just look at him, waiting for an answer. Never one to admit his weaknesses, he stays silent. You place your hand on his thigh, just above his knee, fingers digging into his muscle slightly. He looks down at your hand, watching, waiting for you to put it where he wants it. Unfortunately for him, you stay still.

“Answer me,” you say.

“Yes,” he says, frustration evident in his voice.

“Yes, what?” you ask, just to make him suffer.

“Yes, it gets me hot.”

Tommy’s jaw is clenched tight, clearly unhappy he isn’t getting his way. Finally relenting, you slide your hand up his leg and press the heel of it into his crotch. His breath hitches and you just barely contain your laughter.

You remove your hand just as quickly as you put it there. Tommy makes a slight whine but quiets up when you swing your leg over his thighs and straddle his lap. Your skirt bunches at your sides, resting on his legs and hiding you from his view. He looks up at you, eyes with only a ring of blue, obstructed by his lust-blown pupils. You grab his shoulders, fingers digging into the tense muscles, prodding the painful knots.

Your eyes trace his plush lips and you wonder what it’d be like to kiss them. Would he submit and let you explore him, or would he try to resist and dominate the kiss, just so he could have some semblance of power? As intrigued as you are to find out, you don’t want to give Tommy the satisfaction of making the first move.

Hesitantly, Tommy puts his hands on your hips, and when you don’t bat them away, he grips tighter and begins to rock you back and forth on his lap. His breath hitches and his eyes flutter shut when your core rubs over the bulge in his slacks. You look down at him, unimpressed, but he cannot see your expression. You let him continue a bit longer, building up the pleasure so it’s more satisfying when you rip it away.

You thread your fingers through the hair and yank, pulling his head back and eliciting a pathetic moan from his lips. His eyes fly open to glare at you, but you don’t even put on the guise of an apologetic expression.

“Y’know, Tommy,” you start, not letting up on your grip on his hair. “Your bother’s like a dog, but you’re a fucking horse. A fucking stubborn one at that. You don’t need a soft hand and scratches behind your ear, you need a whip and some goddamn discipline.” Tommy tries to shake your hand out of his hair, but his attempt is futile. “You’re just a horse that needs to be broken.”

“And you suppose you’re able to do that?” he asks, still far too cocky for the position he finds himself in.

“Yes,” you answer plainly, and he quirks an eyebrow at your confidence.

You reach down between your legs and firmly grab the bulge in his pants. Your grip is tight, just on the right side of painful. Tommy whines and curls in on himself as much as he can, which isn’t very much due to you being on his lap.

“Has getting talked down to like an animal really done it for you?” you ask teasingly.

You know he won’t answer, but the glare he gives you is enough. You let up on your hold and begin to drag your fingernails over his hard cock, alternating between too much pressure and not enough, just to make his head spin.

“Take your cock out,” you order, but he doesn’t immediately react. “What are you waiting for?”

“You’re so crass. You could at least ask me nicely,” he responds, a mischievous smirk on his lips.

“Do you ask your horses to pull your carts full of guns and drugs?” you ask. “No, you give an order. You are just a stubborn workhorse, Tommy. I owe you no more kindness than the shit on the cobble.”

“Why would Arthur ever let you go,” Tommy says sarcastically as he moves to undo his trousers. You choose not to respond to his jibe and instead watch him take himself out of his slacks.

His cock is nothing spectacular. It’s a cock, a toy for you to use to get yourself off with, and something to lead him around by. And by the looks of the leaking pink tip, it doesn’t seem like it will be too difficult to control him.

Tommy wraps a hand around himself and begins to stroke it. He’s very clearly putting on a show for you, and it makes you want to roll your eyes. All men think they’re God’s gift to the Earth when they have their cocks out.

“I’m not here to watch you wank,” you say.

“What are you here for, then?”

You reach down and grab his wrist, stopping his movement. “Do not act like I asked you here. You came to my doorstep in the middle of the night so I could fuck you. Stop pretending like you don’t want me to show you the animal you truly are.”

Tommy bites his lip to hide what almost looks like a smile. “Then show me.”

You feel the two of you have finally reached an understanding of how the rest of the night was going to go. Tommy lets go of his cock and you replace his hand with yours. You stroke him slowly, but your grip is tight. The sensation is torturing him, the evidence is written all over his face. His lips are parted and his eyebrows are pinched with pleasure.

You wonder how much of this slow, unsatisfying attention he can take before he begs for more. His hands twitch at his sides, clearly resisting the urge to take over and fuck his hand to completion. The other hand not around his leaking cock trails up his chest, feeling the firm muscle underneath his shirt. You undo a few buttons to get a glimpse of the creamy skin underneath the crisp shirt.

Tommy usually looks so put together but like this, with his pants undone, cock out, and shirt mussed, he looks like a wet dream. Your free hand continues to travel up and stops at the base of his throat. You push just slightly, not enough to cut off any kind of air or blood flow, but enough to get his attention. He looks up at you and nods once, a simple gesture but sufficient. You tighten your hold on his throat and he keens, hips thrusting up into your hand, searching for more friction. You wouldn’t have thought choking would be something that did it for Tommy Shelby, but he’s shown himself full of surprises so far.

“Fuck me,” Tommy whines. You chuckle to yourself at his desperate tone.

“What was that?”

“Please fuck me,” he pants.

“Well, what’s the point in having a horse if you don’t ride it, eh?”

You climb off of his lap and stand in front of him. You unbutton the waist of your skirt and let it fall to the ground, leaving you in only your top and panties. Tommy’s eyes drink in the sight of you hungrily, taking in every inch of your bare legs.

“Would you do me a favor, dear?” you ask him sweetly. He nods and moves forward so he’s sitting on the edge of the couch. “Could you take my knickers off for me?”

You step closer and Tommy reaches out to grab ahold of the elastic waistband. He looks up at you once more before pulling them down and letting them fall around your ankles. He’s now at eye level with your pussy and staring intently.

“You’re drooling, Tom,” you chuckle, which seems to snap him out of his trance. “Do you want a taste?” Tommy seems to have trouble with that question. He does want a taste, but if he waits any longer to get his dick inside you, he might go insane. “What’ll it be?”

“I want to fuck you,” he says, grabbing your hips and looking up at you pleadingly.

Beneath you like this, he looks as if he was praying to you. Like you’re his God, his master, and you suppose in this moment, his fate does lie in your hands.

“Greedy boy,” you say, grabbing his hair again. “After I stroked your fucking cock and let you rut against me like an animal, you can’t even return the favor?”

“Fine, fine, let me lick your cunt then,” he says, voice desperate.

“No,” you huff, putting on a show. “If you need to get your cock wet so badly that you can’t think about anything else…” You snap your fingers and point at the floor by your feet. “Lay down.”

Tommy obeys, pointedly ignoring how the order makes him feel like a dog and how hot he finds it. He lays down on his back and looks up at you, waiting for you to join him on the ground. You step over him, a foot on either side of his hips, and lower yourself so you’re hovering above his thighs.

You grasp his cock and point the tip at your entrance, rubbing it through your wet folds. Tommy’s breath hitches at the contact, but he doesn’t have time to recover before you’re sinking down on him. You go slow, easing yourself into it as his thick cock stretches you, making room for him inside.

Tommy’s hands grip your waist, but he doesn’t push you further down or try to direct you anywhere. Good boy, you think. When you bottom out, you let out a sigh of relief. You allow yourself to wait there, sitting on his thighs with his cock inside you as you relax your muscles. Yes, you’re doing it to prep yourself to ride him, but the look on his face as he tries to restrain himself from fucking into you is priceless.

“Talk to me, Tommy.”

“Fucking move,” he grits out between his teeth.

“Is that how you talk to me?”

“I’ve got my cock in you, eh? I don’t think I have to do much more charming.”

You roll your eyes, then your hips. It was a quick motion, over as soon as it began, and it only served to frustrate Tommy more.

“I want you to tell me how it feels, not give me orders,” you say.

“It’s not fucking enough.”

“So why don’t you ask for more?”

You know you’re being frustrating, and you can tell Tommy is nearing the end of his rope. His fingers dig into your skin a little more, and you wonder if he’s going to leave bruises behind.

“Please ride me before I go fuckin’ insane,” he huffs.

You smile sweetly and start to rock your hips, quickly finding a rhythm that begins to light up your nerve endings. Tommy groans in pleasure, the deep sound spurring you on to give him a little bit more.

“So fucking tight,” he moans. “Wanna see your tits.”

You look down at him and smirk. “So crass, Tommy. You could at least ask me nicely.”

He narrows his eyes and reaches up to grab the low neckline of your blouse. He pulls it down, making your breasts spill out. You gasp and bat his hands away, but make no effort to cover yourself up.

“You don’t like nice,” he says. “You want someone just as terrible as you are.” You lean down and brace yourself on his chest to move your hips faster. There is no doubt that you are fucking him, and he can do little more than touch you.

“And you are as terrible as they come, Thomas.”

Tommy grins, albeit a lazy, fucked out grin. He palms at your tits as you bounce on his cock, not caring about being nice or gentle with him. He’s an animal, he wants it rough and he is more than capable of taking it.

Your fingers curl into his shirt and you pull at it like the reins of a horse. You both move with each thrust, finding a rhythm and working together to fuck each other to completion.

“Good fucking cunt for a whore,” Tommy says between panting breaths.

You glare down at him. You would have thought by this point he’d be too fucked out to back talk, but this horse is hard to tame. You release your hold on his shirt with one hand and clamp it down over his mouth. Tommy’s lip hits his teeth and he tastes blood, but a bit of violence has always done it for him.

“I am not a fucking whore. You’re the one who begged me to fuck you,” you huff. You know he’s baiting you, but there’s something about his smug, condescending tone that’s ever-present that irritates you. “You’re the fucking whore, Tommy. Needy, desperate, pathetic. I bet you’re close, eh?”

Tommy takes your hand off his mouth and grins lazily up at you. “Yeah, I am.”

“You have to have permission for that.”

“Then give it to me.”

“Beg for it.”

You know this game can’t go on forever. You won’t give in and he’ll refuse to beg, but eventually one of you will come. Never let it be said that Tommy Shelby isn’t full of surprises.

Tommy drops his chin and makes his eyes wide, trying to appear as innocent as possible. “Please let me come, madam. I promise I’ll return the favor. I need you.” He is playing it up, playing the role you want him to just to get his way, but it works.

“Fuck, come for me,” you gasp as you bounce faster.

“Where-?” his question is cut off with a whine when you stand up, leaving his cock wet and exposed in the cold air. Immediately, his hand is around it and he’s jerking himself off to keep up the pleasure, but this time you don’t stop him. You kneel between his spread legs and wrap your hand around his.

“Make a mess of yourself, Tommy,” you order.

Before he could argue, hot come spurts out of his cock and lands on your hand, shirt, and trousers. You watch as his pants turn dark and his shirt becomes transparent with awe, reveling in the sight of Tommy Shelby turning into a wreck before you.

You wipe your hand off on his pants and move it between your own legs to rub yourself to completion. His fucked-out expression, whimpers of pleasure, and occasional twitches of the aftershocks of his orgasm combined with the friction on your cunt send you over the edge. Your pussy flutters and your body sags with the relief of the loss of tension.

Panting, you lay on the floor next to Tommy. You both stay there, not talking, not touching, not moving for a good while. You’re content like that, having gotten some Shelby-related frustration out of your system. You feel better than you have since Arthur cheated, and everything is good again. That is until the man beside you opens his mouth again.

“How much do I owe you for the fuck?” he asks.

You don’t bother to pick your head up. You simply smack his chest, making a hollow thud and a laugh come from the man.

“I should be paying you,” you respond.

“Was it really that good?” he teases again.

“You’re insufferable, Tommy.”

Tommy rolls onto his side to look at you, but you do not mirror his actions.

“And you’re a horrible wench. A wicked, evil woman who takes pleasure in seeing others suffer.” There’s no heat behind his words, and you feel a smile forming on your face.

“And you’re a stubborn fucking ass that kicks his owner.”

Tommy sits up and reaches for his jacket, taking the pack of cigarettes and matchbook out of the pocket. He puts one of them in his mouth, tucked in the corner.

“I’d say we’re a good match, eh?” he says before striking the match and lighting the end of the cigarette.

You scoff. “I’d rather die than be involved with another Shelby.”

Tommy turns to you with a raised eyebrow. “I’d say we’re already involved, but if it’s so important to you,” Tommy pauses for a moment. “I’ll take your name.”

You blink at him. “What the fuck are you on about?”

“You know, since you’re so adamant about being in charge. I’ll take your surname, then I’d really be yours.” That smirk and teasing tone that drives you insane is back.

“Get the fuck out of my house, Tom.”

Tommy stands up and grabs his jacket and hat, then puts them both on without breaking eye contact with you.

“I’ll be back tomorrow,” he says as he turns around, walking towards the door.

“No, you won’t!”

Tommy shoots you a wink over his shoulder before slipping out the door and back into the night where he came from. You know that tomorrow night he will show up on your doorstep, and you know that you’ll invite him in. Damn, those Shelby men.

[twoheartedfool]

Unearthed

Thomas Shelby x F!Reader

CW: Funerals, mention of blood, angsty angst, happy ending?

The funeral was a dark one, as it should be expected. The dark clouds rolling over matched the mood of everyone in Small Heath mourning over their beloved king, Mr. Thomas Shelby. England mourned along with you. You had forgotten your umbrella in the daze on the way to the cemetery. Ada, with her arm wrapped in yours, held one over the two you. She didn’t fuss over you. She knew you wouldn’t like it. But her, and the other siblings that you had began to call your own, were all there for you. Silently in the background, they made sure everything went smoothly because you were too much in a fog.

Over the past 24 hours you had felt more emotions than you thought you could handle; despair, anger, betrayal, and now numbness. You were empty. The words said about Tommy were all just buzz in your ears. You stared at the closed casket but felt nothing. You didn’t even realize it was over until Arthur was kissing your forehead and there was a line of people behind him that were waiting to pay their respects. If Tommy was their king, then you were their queen. You didn’t want to see any of them. 

John kissed your cheek next but you continued to stare blankly at the casket. Another figure stood in front of you and you didn’t look at them until you heard their sniffles. Finn. You still had to remind yourself to look up when looking at him. He had grown so much. 

“(Y/N),” he sobbed. “I’m so sorry. It’s all my fault. I’m sorry.” 

Hearing his words finally awoke something inside you. 

“Finn,” you started. Everyone looked startled at the sound of your voice. They couldn’t remember when you had spoken last. 

You took the young man’s face in your hands, forcing him to meet your eyes. “Finn, you didn’t do this. There are men in this world, very, very bad men that did this, and they will pay for what they did. You are not one of those men. Tommy loved you. This isn’t your fault. Understood?” 

He nodded quickly. Arthur clamped a loving hand on his shoulder, “Wipe your tears, bruv.” 

“(Y/N), we’re going to the Garrison so everyone can be together. So we can celebrate Tommy,” Ada said softly. 

“I won’t be going to that,” you replied. 

“Please, we’re worried about you,” Esme said. 

“I said no,” you snapped. You sighed and closed your eyes, “I want to stay here a little while.” 

“Let us drive you back at least,” Arthur said. 

“I’ll walk,” you said coldly. 

“Come on, let’s leave her be,” John muttered, pulling Esme and Ada away. Finn shuffled behind them. Arthur stepped towards you.

“You, too, Arthur,” John called out. After a few moments, he finally huffed and walked towards the cars. You vaguely heard him shouting at everyone else to get moving. They filtered away and you watched as men started shoveling dirt into the grave. 

When someone stood beside you again, anger startled to boil up. “I said--”

You were startled by a man you had never seen before holding an envelope towards you. 

“Mrs. Shelby, this is for you.” 

“What is it?” 

“I can’t tell you that but it’s important that you take it.” 

“And who the fuck are you?” 

“I can’t tell you that, either. Please, Mrs. Shelby.” 

Looking down at the envelope, all possible outcomes of what it could be ran through your head. It was too thin to be an explosive. With a sigh, you ripped it out of his hands. 

The handwriting of the letter made your blood run cold. It was too familiar. You would recognize it anywhere. 

(Y/N),

Meet me in the basement of this address. Wait until after the Garrison. Don’t tell anyone. I’ll explain everything. 

All my love. 

There wasn’t a signature but you didn’t need one to know who it was from, or who you thought it was from anyway. With a snap of your head, you looked up at the man but he was already gone. Desperately looking for any of the Shelby’s, all you saw were the boys filling the grave. All of the cars were gone. But that didn’t matter. You knew a shortcut. 

Many people stared after you while you sprinted pass them. All of them just muttered things to themselves such as “poor girl” or “I don’t know what she’ll be without him.” You of course didn’t notice any of them. All you were focused on was getting to the address. It was in a part of town that you rarely came to, down by the river where it was mostly abandoned warehouses. 

Getting into the building was difficult. It seemed to be the only empty building that still had working locks. Eventually you found an open window that was easy enough to climb through. 

With staggered breath, you made it to the basement. Other than some old crates, there was nothing. The silence was deafening.

A fresh wave of tears made it to your eyes. How could you let yourself gain hope?

“How could I be so stupid?” you whispered fiercely, wiping away your tears. 

“I thought I told you to wait until after the Garrison.” 

You nearly screamed at the voice behind you. Walking around a corner was the man you thought you buried this morning. 

“Tommy,” you whispered, horrified. He wasn’t dressed in his normal suit, just pants, suspenders, and a white shirt that was covered in dirt and blood. Cuts and bruises lined his face. Slowly, you stepped forward, your fingertips hesitantly touching his cheek, his eyes fluttering close at your warmth. He was real. 

“Tommy,” you repeated. 

“It’s me, love.” 

Without a second thought, you threw yourself at him. He caught you easily, accepting your lips that hastily searched for his. You held onto him as tightly as you could, and him you. 

The kiss was finished with a harsh smack against his cheek that echoed throughout the basement. 

“How dare you,” you growled. 

“(Y/N)--”

“No! I had to bury you!” you slapped against his chest. 

“Love, listen-” 

“How dare you!” you screamed, continually hitting against his chest. Sobs escaped you in screams. All the feelings you had been bottling up inside were finally coming up. Tommy secured you tightly against, softly shushing in your ear. 

“You were dead.” 

“Shh, it’s alright. I’m sorry. I’m here. We’re alright now.” 

“How could you do this?” you wailed into his neck. His fingers grasped the nape of your neck, keeping you steady as your sobs slowed.

“It had be done. I needed them to believe it. You couldn’t have know, or else they wouldn’t have went with it.” 

“I don’t understand. Me. Your family. They all thought you were dead.” 

It was barely a twitch in his fingers that you felt in your hair. His silence accompanied it. You leaned away to meet his eyes, your vision finally clearing from the tears. He held the contact boldly. He was an expert at this and known throughout England because of it. Thomas Shelby and his cold, blue eyes. 

But you’re weren’t the rest of England.

“Who did you tell?” you asked. He kept your gaze as you stepped away from him. 

“You couldn’t have known,” he repeated bluntly, a pulse in his clenched jaw.

“Who knew, Thomas?” 

“Arthur.”

A strike of a rage went through you. There was that feeling again, betrayal. You felt it towards the world and God when they killed Thomas. Now you felt it towards the man himself and his brother. 

“Who else?” 

Tommy licked his lips and sighed, “Aunt Pol.” 

You scowled. “That’s why she wasn’t there today.” 

“She didn’t agree with my decision.”

“Of course she didn’t fucking agree with it! Who the fuck would?” you exploded. “What about the others? Do they know? Jesus, Tommy! Finn thinks that all of this is his fault!” 

“When the time is right, I will speak to Finn. He’ll understand. They all will.”

“I don’t,” you muttered. “You’re a bastard. You could have told me.” 

Thomas was hesitant to step forward but when you didn’t make any immediate signs of rejection, he took your face in his hands. He held you firmly, stroking his thumb against the tear stains on your cheeks. When he touched you, it felt like he was touching the most important thing in the world, because to him he was. And he was pleading with the world that you would forgive him for this.

“How would you have felt if I had done this?” you wondered. 

“Broken,” he admitted truthfully and without hesitation. Before you could speak, he continued. “But better than I would have felt if they had gotten to you. I wasn’t the only one with a target on my back. They were going to kill you, but I put myself forward. Nothing will keep you from me, or I you. Do I understand?” 

Exhausted, you lean your forehead against his. The bile in the back of your throat was settling. For a just a moment, you allowed yourself to lean into him and exist outside the past few days. To feel him under your fingertips and his hands against your back.

“You’re still a bastard, Tommy.”

“I know.”

“And you’re not forgiven yet. If you ever try something like this again, you will not be able to fake your death because I will kill you.”

“I know, love.”

[runnning-outof-time]

A (Debatably) Lovely Dinner | Tommy Shelby & Daughter!Reader

Request: yes by anonymous

Pairing: Tommy Shelby & Daughter!Reader

Summary: (Y/N) has her family over for a dinner that she worked so hard to prepare. Her father and uncles tell her that it tastes lovely...but are they actually thinking that?

Warnings: drinking, language

Word Count: 1773

A/N: this is the first daughter!reader fic I’ve written in a bit - I hope it’s good. I’m excited to be writing requests again! Enjoy! :)

I’D LOVE TO KNOW WHAT YOU THINK! - YOUR COMMENTS & REBLOGS HELP ME WRITE!

Comment/Message me if you’d like to be tagged in future stories!

(Y/N) wrang her hands together as she looked over all of the pots that were currently boiling on the stove. She took a breath and let it out slowly, trying to compose herself and shake the nerves from her body.

"You're doing great, love. It's going to be a good meal," her husband, James, offered some encouragement as he came up behind her. He placed his hands on her shoulders and pressed a kiss to the side of her head as he pulled her into his chest.

"Maybe I should have accepted the catering offer? There's a lot of people coming over," she expressed her worry, eyes still focused on the pots. She then began to wonder why she even agreed to hosting her family in the first place.

"This is going to be extra special because you made it all," he told her, kissing her temple once more before letting her get back to work. "And your cooking is wonderful," he complimented her, sending a smile her way as she turned to look at him.

She smiled back, although it wavered due to the nerves she was still feeling, watching as he exited the kitchen before she got back to work.

(Y/N) was bringing the final dish to the dining table two hours later. She smiled at everyone who was waiting patiently for dinner to start and took a deep breath as she moved to stand behind her husband's chair.

"James and I would like to thank everyone for coming tonight. I hope that you enjoy what I've prepared for you to eat," she gave a small speech, her nervous smile still present as she then sat down.

"Let's eat then, eh?" Tommy suggested, smiling at his daughter from the opposite end of the table. He was proud of her for this vast spread that she'd managed to cook up. It smelled wonderful to him.

Comments of agreement came from around the table as everyone began taking dishes and spooning helpings of the food onto their plates. (Y/N) watched as this happened, wanting to make sure all was well; filling her plate last.

Dinner began quietly, the sounds of forks hitting plates the only thing to be heard. (Y/N) couldn't help but sneak a few glances around the table, wanting to see if there were any problems. All looked fine to her.

Somehow, she didn't manage to catch her uncles, John and Arthur, throwing sideways glances at each other in between each bite they took. Something about the taste seemed off to them. Whether it was the seasoning on the roast, or the choice or cut of the vegetables, the food wasn't exactly pleasurable to eat.

But the pleased look on their niece's face told them that she was happy to have the family over, eating a dinner that she worked so hard to prepare. They couldn't even think of ruining things for her by bringing up the fact that her cooking was well under par.

And besides, Tommy seemed to be fine with eating it, and he never ate anything.

Dinner continued and small talk was made. The usual discussion of business between the Shelby family had been swapped for stories of the past and the men making arrangements for their annual hunting trip that was fastly approaching.

All was well until (Y/N) decided to ask the table for opinions on the food. "How has everyone been enjoying the food?" She wasn't sure if she was being too upfront in asking for opinions, but no one had offered any prior to her question, and she'd be lying if she said she wasn't dying to know their thoughts.

"Lovely as always, darling," her husband, James, was the first to share his thoughts on it, sending her a smile as he cut himself another piece of the roast.

"Thanks, James," she smiled back at him before looking out to the rest of the table. No one else's eyes met hers; their gazes cast down on their plates. Maybe that means they really like the food, she thought to herself. "Dad?" she asked after a few moments had passed. Tommy looked up at her, his brows raised as if to say 'what?' "What do you think?" she asked, curious to know what his thoughts on the meal were.

"It's good, love," he told her, nodding as he grabbed his glass of whiskey, "really good."

"Thank you," she chirped in response, feeling extremely pleased with herself. She grabbed her fork and knife then and went to cut a piece of the roast.

"Well I think that..." another comment started to come out, but it was abruptly stopped. "What the bloody hell was that for?" the voice belonged to Linda Shelby, and she was now glaring daggers at her husband, Arthur. Arthur had his brows furrowed as he glanced between his wife and (Y/N), a bit of an uneasy expression present on his face. "Spit it out, Arthur," she snapped in a harsh whisper. Arthur said nothing of sustenance though, instead just shaking his head and muttering "don't," under his breath.

"Were you going to say something, Linda?" (Y/N) asked, her curiosity peaked as she focused on the blonde woman.

Linda shared one last look with her husband, who was still discreetly shaking his head, before she plastered a smile on her face and turned to look at the younger woman. "I was just going to say that...that...this is a lovely dinner, (Y/N)," she finally shared her opinion on the cooking, although it may not have been originally what she wanted to say. (Y/N) took it though, a smile breaking onto her features.

"Aww thanks so much, Linda. I was so worried about this dinner. I'm so happy to hear that everyone is enjoying it," (Y/N) expressed her previous worries with the group, earning a chorus of 'no it was good’ comments in response.

Overly pleased with herself now, (Y/N) was smiling from ear to ear as she continued eating her dinner. Just wait until they try the dessert, she thought to herself, pride flowing through her.

The Shelby men followed James into his study after the dessert plates had been removed from the table. (Y/N) had decided to take the women around for a tour of her new home, a tour which the men felt they didn't need to join. All five of them had a glass in their hand, and they were seated on the chairs that were positioned around the mantle.

"I don't know how you do it, James," Arthur said with a sigh as he brought his glass back to his lips. He took a drink and then let out a sigh after swallowing it.

"Do what?" James was confused by the older man's statement.

"Eat (Y/N)'s food daily," Arthur didn't beat around the bush. "I mean, she's me neice and I love her, but the food she cooks is fucking terrible."

James nodded slowly in response to Arthur's statement, a knowing look present on his face as he looked like he was fighting a smile. He then took a look at Tommy, checking the waters before sharing information about the daughter of a man who could do some nasty damage if he said the wrong thing. He wasn't surprised to see his father in law looking at him.

"Well how do ya do it?" John broke the silence, signaling to the other man that he'd been taking too long to respond.

"She's my wife," he began, a smile forming on his face, "I've learned to love every part of being with her."

"Ah you've gone soft, lad," Arthur couldn't help but chuckle at the response he got before he set his sights on his brother, "and you, Tom…how do you do it, brother?"

Tommy laughed to himself as he heard the question. He brought his whiskey up and took a sip, pausing for a moment longer before finally answering the question: "guess it grows on you." His response was simple, and he followed it with a shrug.

"You both have not a clue what you're talking about," Arthur commented with a shake of his head, "John, help me out here. It's nothing against (Y/N)...her food's just downright terrible, right?" he looked to his younger brother for some back up.

"Right," John nodded, raising his glass in agreement.

"Good man," Arthur praised his brother for answering in line with him.

"I think her cooking's good," Finn chimed in from where he was sitting by the fire.

"You wouldn't know what's good for ya, Finn," Arthur dismissed his youngest brother's opinion. Finn shook his head and looked at the fire, wondering why he decided to add his two cents in the first place.

Silence fell in the room then, and James couldn't help but keep thinking about his response to Arthur's question. It made him chuckle as he realized that maybe he hadn't been completely truthful with what he had said.

"What's funny?" John asked, catching the other man's laugh.

All eyes were on him in an instant. He could tell by their intent gazes that he wouldn't be able to get out of this one. "Nothing...it's just that," he paused, letting out a breathy laugh as he shook his head, "I will admit that her cooking has been harder to learn to love than the rest of her," he shared what he'd been thinking.

John and Arthur immediately began laughing, both happy that they'd gotten the young man to break and share his actual thoughts on their niece's cooking. They knew that he felt the same as they did just by the vague response he gave earlier, but hearing it cemented the victory.

"It took me a while too. You'll get there," Tommy cut through the laughter of his brothers to offer his son in law some advice. James smiled at Tommy, happy to know that maybe he'd be able to get used to it, just like his father in law had.

(Y/N) was sitting with the rest of the women in the front room. She'd become quiet, letting the others continue their conversation about the latest fashion trends. She had too much on her mind.

A smile was present on her face as she thought back to the dinner, and all of the lovely comments she received from her family. Giddiness bubbled up inside of her as her mind went to thinking about what she would cook for their next family dinner. She couldn’t wait to have them over again!

Tagged: @mystcldydrms @the-anxious-youth @cloudofdisney @look-at-the-soul @elenavampire21 @mrsalwayswrite @julkaamazing @evita-shelby @notyour-valentine @shelbydelrey @theshelbyslimited @peakyswritings @just-a-blackhole @watercolorskyy @strayrockette @peakyduchesss @alexxavicry @captivatedbycillianmurphy @yummycastiel @dark-academia-slut @tommystargirl @emotionalcadaver @stevie75 @lyarr24 @signorellisantichrist @zablife @anotherblinder @cillmequick @dandelionprints @letal-y-poetica @garrison-girl-08 @insanitybyanothername @depxiety @raincoffeeandfandoms @dragons-are-my-favorite @forgottenpeakywriter @cljordan-imperium @brummiereader @red-riding-wood @everythingelseisextra @little-diable @thomashelbyswife @shaddixlife

MASTERLIST

[hihomeghere]

Here is my collection of Red Dead Redemption fics! I hope you enjoy! All of my fics are f!reader if not specifically mentioned

Smut 💋, Fluff 🪽, Angst 🗯️

Rdr2 Boyfriend vibes

John Marston

Burning Love Set in the epilogue of RDR2. You stumble upon John in Blackwater after being alone for years. When he invites you to visit Beecher's Hope, will you be able to fight feelings that have been building ever since you were kids? 🪽💋

Gloves John goes crazy over you dressed up for a job, more specifically your white gloves 🪽💋

Based off an ask 💋

Right Person, Wrong Time You and John have constantly been at each other's throats until you left the gang after he chose Abigail over you. When you return you find him gone, leaving Abigail and Jack. You create a relationship with Abigail and Jack, but what will happen when John returns? 🗯️💋

Arthur Morgan

Fakin' It After a botched robbery, Arthur and you take refuge in a hotel, hiding from the O'Driscolls outside your door. When they do decide to search for you two, how will you throw them off your track? 💋

Fishing in the Dark You and Arthur have a private evening away from camp on the Dakota river. 🪽💋

Dreams Arthur starts having dreams of starting a family with you 🪽

My Eyes Only Arthur thinks you look like a work of art 🪽

Salt and Pepper Arthur notices his hair is starting to gray 🪽

Deserving. 6. I won't let anything happen to you, I swear. 34. I think you're showing. 36. You're glowing. 41. The baby loves hearing you sing/speak. 83. Was that a kick? 🪽

Blue Ain't Your Color Loosely based on the song, Blue Ain't Your Color 🪽

Little Things Arthur returns from a successful job and wants nothing more than to bury himself in you 💋

Prompts : #30 I just want to be yours. #50 We need to talk about last night 💋

First time : You want Arthur to be the one to take your virginity, you just dont want to tell him💋

Baptized by Fire, Arthur Morgan x Reader x Charles Smith

After running from your past you find yourself facing certain death out in a blizzard. Thankfully you’re rescued, but what happens when you have to ride out the rest of the winter with the two men who rescued you? An RDR2 AU where Arthur followed Charles to Canada. No Y/N. Eventual Smut

Chapter one , Chapter two, Chapter three

Charles Smith

Knight in Shining Armor 1. "Kiss me" "What-", 81. "Your heart is racing." 🪽💋

Javier Escuella

Prompt : #19 You're leaving now? 🗯️

Kieran Duffy

Prompt : #66 Were you touching yourself? 💋