#They'd look up to Arthur

[springs-hurts]

I think Lancelot would be the only knight to immediately protect Merlin when his magic was revealed if he was around in s5. Gwaine and Merlin friendship seems strained he seems to hate magic and all the other knights also hunt magic users with no problem

Yepp, I wholeheartedly agree, Lancelot would either go all out, or he'd try to make them see reason...depends on which way it'd go(or which way it'd have gone, only if writers were brave enough, but damn! I can just imagine Arthur, his wife loves this man, his best friend told him his biggest secret, uh uhh, Lancelot bro, I'd run!)

But others, in Disir episode, Percival was making fun of all the hangings, and people write him as sympathetic, same goes for elyan...

So two people who'd support Merlin are Lancelot (if he didn't die) and Mordred, both would hesitate to draw their weapon, of that I have no doubt. But they'd support Merlin.

[mv1simp]

for the bully!Max, Leclerc!Reader and chubby!reader simps in my requests…I heard you and I’m here to deliver 😼😼 enjoy!!

You Belong To Me ♥️

Bully!Max Verstappen x Chubby!Leclerc!Reader

say it louder, say it louder, who’s gonna love you like me (who’s gonna fuck you like me?)

Growing up as the youngest daughter in the Leclerc family, you’d had a childhood crush on your brother’s rival and friend, Max. But when you grew older he turned into your worst nightmare, always bullying you. You’ve been able to avoid him for the last 5 years - but now with your new engineer job on the paddock, you can’t hide from Max any longer…and can’t stop the feelings you still have for him.

Content includes: 18+ MDNI, smut, size kink, dom/sub, dark! Max who bullies innocent virgin!reader, dub con, brainwashing, bimbofication, somno, yk all the good shit, WC 9k 😨

You shiver as you walk into your family’s childhood vacation home along the Cote de Azure, despite the summer heat. It’s been a long time since you’d visited this house. Even though your Mama and three older brothers came by often, looking for a weekend break from their busy lives or a romantic getaway with gorgeous girlfriends, you’d always turn down their offers to join once you were in college. They'd always be confused at your hesitance - but then again, they don't know just how many bittersweet memories this home holds for you. You’d grown up here in the summers, the youngest daughter of the famous Monegasque Leclerc family. Racing was in your bloodline, and your beloved Papa had instilled his passion into all of his children before he’d passed away.

Your older brothers, who were all handsome, tall and athletic, made natural drivers right from childhood and easily progressed through the karting competitions. Meanwhile, you were the youngest and the only daughter, and were raised in a far gentler manner as the apple of your family’s eye, their cute bunny as they’d nicknamed you, after your favourite childhood pet. In comparison to your brothers who ran around outdoors, you were more shy, preferring to be left with your books and colouring pencils in the safety of the patio.

Of course, with all your differences, there had been the healthy sibling rivalry of brothers vs sister growing up. They hated being forced to play house or pose for your scribbly drawings (not Arthur though - even at age 5 you were convinced he secretly loved when you made him join the Barbie tea party.) And in turn, you'd alway complain when you’d be dragged to cheer on Charles from the sidelines as he won his karting competitions. You would sulk, childishly annoyed at your parent’s attention shifting from you to their middle son’s rapidly growing racing career.

But it all changed when Charles raced against Max Verstappen for the first time at age 11. The blonde Dutchman aggravated your competitive older brother immediately with his aggressive driving tactics. You’d heard Cha, as you’d been calling him since you were little, furiously ranting about the illegal moves Max had been pulling and your 7 year old brain tuned it all out. But when you first saw the mysterious blonde in question, your heart fluttered with a feeling you’d never felt before and a bright blush overtook your chubby cheeks.

You immediately became infatuated with the older boy, who was far nicer to you than Charles had been back then. Your middle brother's idea of “sibling time” involving hiding beetles in your bed and laughing when you screamed. So it became a common sight to see you wandering after Max instead of being by your family’s side, tugging on his shirt sleeve and showing him the racecar drawings you’d made. Max always entertained you, ruffing your hair and smiling back toothily, telling you that you were a much better artist than his little sis Victoria.

You’d beam from the praise, only leaving Max’s side when his scary father Jos would approach and eye you with disdain. You scampered back to your family, to your older brothers who accused you of the worst crime imaginable to the loyal Leclerc blood - exchanging racing strategies with the enemy Dutch. Your mother had hit all three sons on the back of the head and told them they could learn a thing or two about treating Bunny with respect like that cute boy Max did.

As you grew older, your pigtails were replaced with cute pins and headbands in an effort to look pretty whenever Max would come around to your summer home. By now, his rivalry with Charles had turned into a reluctant "frenemies who also spent summers together to discuss racing". You'd get to be with Max all day, swimming in the turquoise ocean and eating sweet stroopwafel that he always brought. An in the evenings, the two car-obsessed 14 year olds would be arguing about overtaking strategies at your family’s dining table. You’d pout, childishly wanting attention at age 11, interrupting whatever stupid point you're sure Charles was making to bat your eyelashes at your guest. Holding up your now detailed drawings of a black kart, you asked Maxie - as you’d taken to calling him - if he liked your recreation of his.

He’d grinned at you, still boyishly handsome and in the lanky phase of growing up as he told you he loved it, should he sign his autograph on it? with that Dutch accent you adored. Charles watched your shenanigans with a roll of his eyes, snidely muttering (in French, thank god) that the annoying little bunny wasn’t doing a very good job of hiding her crush on the enemy Dutch. You flushed, frantically checking to make sure Max hadn’t been able to understand, and had run off with a red face to tearfully rat him out to your Mama. Unlike Charles, she found your crush on Max rather cute, and always encouraged you to give your favourite ribbons and bows to Max for a good luck charm the way you did with your brothers pre-race (Traitor, teen Arthur and Charles mouthed at you).

She eyed you knowingly when you do your best to avoid blushing as you grew older still, this time seeing Max when you were 14 and him 17 with an impressive winning streak in the Junior Redbull team. He’d started to develop into his tall 6 foot frame now, towering over your tiny 5”2 frame like your brothers did. What, no drawing of a racecar for me to sign Bunny? he gently teased, leaning down so you could shyly kiss both of his cheeks - a Monegasque tradition Max had become accustomed to from your family. You stuttered out your no, of course not, you were too old for that now! making him laugh at how cute you looked before walking off. Arthur watches the exchange with a smirk, elbowing Cha when he emerges from the changing rooms. Your middle brother’s frenemy status with Max was more of a friendship these days, and his earlier accusations of you being a traitor had turned into something much more annoying. Max and Bunny, sitting in a tree, K-I-S-S-I-N-G-

But by the time you turned 16, your Maxie changed from the sweet, laughing boy you’d always trusted into someone darker, someone who you felt scared of at times. You were at the age where you now wanted Max as your boyfriend, naively thinking that the 19 year old driver would return your affections when he’d attended your Sweet 16th. You’d spent hours getting ready, styling your long curly hair and wearing a cute dress all your friends had insisted you would be irresistible in (but had almost given your older brothers an aneurysm). It was tight and short, and although you'd always been a chubby kid, you feel a self conscious of the new plush curves around your hips and chest, in comparison to your older brothers who now looked very handsome and muscular.

You’d lit up when you saw Max across the fancy yacht club, flooded with all your schoolmates and family friends who’d come to celebrate the baby Leclerc’s birthday. He'd looked so handsome, his muscular frame now filled out and catching the eye of many girls. There was a devilishness in his smile that came with the confidence of being the youngest F1 driver in history. Lately, your innocent crush had started to drift towards naughtier, dirtier fantasies about what Max’s large hands and lips would feel like on you, if he snuck into your bedroom in the middle of the night and told you he loved you as you willingly gave him your first kiss.

But all your naive hopes come crashing down when you see a slim, sexy blonde approach Max where he’s talking to Charles intently, drinking a beer. His hand squeezes her ass in a familiar motion as she wraps her arms around him, leaning up to give him a kiss. You quickly turn around in the crowd before you can be seen, heartbroken, and drown yourself in blurred conversations and slices of birthday cake. Max doesn’t even come to wish you happy birthday like he normally did, always with a special gift in hand. At some point in the night you’re talking to Charles and try to subtly ask who that blonde girl with Max had been. Your older brother gives you an amused look, asking if you still had your silly little childhood crush on Max? You adamantly deny it, and he smirks and tells you that was Giana, Max’s girlfriend and an Italian model. You’re upset, of course, but thankfully he changes the topic to tell you how Max had recommended his old F2 seat go to Charles, wasn’t that amazing Bunny? You nod mutedly, having become used to Cha being less and less aware of anything that went on outside his racing career these days.

After a sneaky shot of tequila your friend gave you, you have the courage to go approach Max. His girlfriend is still at his side and raises an eyebrow, pointedly glancing down at your figure to make it clear what she thought of your curvier body. What shocks you, though, is seeing an annoyed look on Max’s face as well, as he demands to know why you’re interrupting, couldn’t you see he was busy? You’ve never heard him speak like that and are confused, asking him why he’s being so mean, did I do something wrong, Max-

He cuts you off, smirking as he asks why you weren’t calling him Maxie anymore. The girl laughs at that, saying no way, she’s such a kid, she calls you that? A few of your older schoolmates have wandered over, curious to see what was going on and you flush from the embarrassment of having Max treat you like this in front of your friends.

From then on, Max just became crueler and crueler to you. It’s like he enjoyed seeing how you'd react, your cute chubby cheeks darkening with embarrassment as you avoided his gaze. Once he'd officially moved to Monaco, you ran into him everywhere as him and Charles formed a close friendship and would often hang out. Max would always time his harsh remarks just when your brother wasn't in earshot. He'd mock you about everything, from your childish appearance, to your innocently conservative outfits, your nerdy perfect grades, your animated Italian gestures and accent which he'd always seemed to adore growing up. Your popularity in school plummeted as your friends watched the talented F1 driver roll his eyes and mutter how pathethic you were when he heard you were reading romantic novels on Friday night instead of partying, saying the only reason you had any friends was because of your talented brother’s fame. Your family had no idea what was going on - as Max’s bullying started the same time your Papa becomes unwell and landed in hospital. Your brothers thought the change in your sweet demeanour was because of your sadness for your father.

If only they knew the real culprit was right under their noses.

It seemed there was nothing teen Max enjoyed more than seeing your big brown doe eyes welling up with tears. He’d use everything you told him growing up against you, making gossip and rumours fly around your school constantly. Any guy who tried to talk to you was assumed to be doing it as a dare. The first few years of high school had been like hell - the only thing making it bearable being your perfect grades and promising future. Unlike your older brothers who were natural sportsmen, you were the opposite and excelled at academics, and you’d used it to get a full ride scholarship at a prestigious engineering course in the UK.

That’s what you reminded yourself to get you through a graduation party at the end of high school. You'd been reluctantly dragged by the small group of friends you’d thankfully kept despite all the bullying and rumours. In true Monaco trust fund kid fashion, the party was hosted on one of your schoolmates' yacht, with many juniors and older siblings tagging along as well. Towards the end of high school, Max’s bullying was less common as he became busier with his racing - something Charles had become fully invested in with his new F1 Alfa Romeo seat. And you’d grown up, too, maturing into your curves and pretty dark Italian features, catching the eye of a few boys in your year.

It seemed you’d been briefly relieved of your duties of being a social pariah when you're yanked into a circle of already wasted partygoers playing 7 minutes in heaven. But when your friend pulled out your name with a drunken flush, you could only widen your eyes in horror when the next name she announces was one you'd never expected - Max.

And then you see him, on the other side of the deck, leaning against the railing and ignoring the girls trying to speak to him as his ice blue eyes intently watch you. You squeaked out your protests, begging your friend to try again, but it's hopeless when the circle begins chanting your name and Max’s. Giving up, you turned around and ran through the crowd, trying to reach the ramp and get off the boat -

-when a large, warm hand wrapped around your waist and easily pulled you into a broad chest. Before you knew it, you're in a tiny, dark storage room, with Max Verstappen blocking the door and smirking down at you. Your naive heart still ached with conflicting feelings for Max, who was your childhood knight in shining armour, who always stood up for you when your older brothers ganged up on you, always knew how to make you laugh when you were crying from their teasing. But this was also the same Max who made your high school life hell, had teased you mercilessly behind your brother’s back, and used all the secrets you'd trusted him with against you. He'd make you look like a childish little girl in front of your effortlessly cool, rich peers. This reminder brought you back to your senses and you quietly but firmly ask him to let me out.

He hadn’t let you leave, of course, instead leaning down until he was whispering in your ear with his deep voice that still send shivers down your spine, mockingly asking if you’d had your first kiss yet or if you're still the same stuck up Leclerc who thinks she's too good to be fucked by anyone here?

Heart racing furiously from nervousness, you mumble out that you hadn’t had your first kiss, avoiding his ice cold eyes as he chuckled. You know his game well enough by now to understand he wouldn’t let you go until he gets his answer. You hated the boy you once hoped to give your first kiss to. He’d ruined your reputation beyond repair, had made it so no guy at school would touch you even if they found you pretty.

Well, apparently except for one boy.

Turns out Max himself had no issues laying his hands on you, hidden in the darkness of the storeroom. His hands had pushed you up against the wall, your face cutely scrunched up in confusion, and then your jaw almost dropped in shock when he pressed his lips to your ear. He huskily whispered how pretty you looked, how he’d hated the way boys had been checking you out all night. They didn’t know you’d already promised to marry Max when you were little, yeah Bunny?

And then he’d captured the surprised gasp you let out, shocked that he’d remembered your childhood wish to be his vrouw, his wife, when he leans down to press a surprisingly gentle kiss against your soft lips. When he pulled back, his face remaining close to yours, your brown doe eyes looked into his with whirling confusion and hurt - but also desire flickering in them. And then you’d both gotten lost in another kiss, then another, and then Max being Max had starting running his hands all over your body. Squeezing his hand into your juicy ass to make you shyly moan, and then greedily slipping his tongue inside.

That’s how everyone had found you when they yanked the door open, with Max having you moaning his name, one hand sliding up your skirt and the other running over your tits. The darkness in his gaze returns as he pulled back and left you leaning against the wall with wobbly legs. He laughed as he strode off the party, saying it’d been so easy to get you to beg for him like a little slut, who would’ve guessed with your innocent appearance?

You couldn’t wait to graduate high school and go to university after that. And it had been amazing, moving far away from Monte Carlo. No one knew who you were or how deep your history with world famous athletes like Charles or Max went. You reinvented yourself, becoming confident after months of therapy and your intelligence becoming something you were admired for instead of teased. You’d though that was the end of it, that you’d never have to be humiliated or have your heart broken by Max Verstappen again. Until 5 years later when you got a call from Lorenzo asking you to come home.

With the intimate engagement party of your oldest brother being held at your family’s scenic vacation home, you’d been unable to refuse. You knew Max was going to be there, but you’d taken a deep breath and reminded yourself that things were different now. You were 22, a qualified engineer and had used your own hard work to get a job within the Alpine garage - even using your mother’s maiden name as your last name because you wanted to prove it was because of your skill, not connections. Charles had been bewildered, begging you to please come work at Ferrari, bebe but you’d been adamant about needing to prove your own worth. You loved your family, and were so happy for Cha’s success as your relationship with your brothers blossomed into a close, loyal one as adults. It had always been your father’s dream to see him in the red suit. It was unbelievable to have millions of Tifosi literally worship your older brother - and their adoration extended to you, his sweet younger sister Bunny. You make rare appearances on the paddock but were hailed as a good luck charm when you did, Tifosi cheering when you affectionally kiss your brother on both cheeks and tie a hair ribbon to his suit. You always made sure to stay well away from the Redbull garage.

And you’d become radiant in your beauty, too, in pretty, flattering dresses and fitted miniskirts that showed off your soft stomach and thighs, your generous cleavage and juicy ass. Full, lush lips and long dark curls framed your sweetheart face and you’d been finally been able to put makeup on without fear of being mocked. A few guys had tried to ask you out in college, but you hadn’t been quite there yet in your confidence to say yes. Max had seemed to put you off all men, for now at least….and your protective Italian brothers seemed to make it their personal mission to protect your honour and integrity. Very dramatic, you’d said to them with a fond roll of your eyes, secretly enjoying how they cared for you despite their luxurious celebrity lifestyles. So you’d ended up still being a virgin at your college graduation, wanting to save it for the man you fell in love with.

You reminded yourself of all that you had to offer, of how you weren’t the same nerdy little girl who was going to be bullied, when you heard Max would be joining your family prior to the engagement party. The night before he was meant to arrive, you’d been overthinking and anxiously wringing your fingers so hard that your whole family had started demanding to know what was troubling you. After giving them some weak excuse about being worried about your new job, you'd gone to read one of your romance novels by the pool after dinner to destress. You had ended up falling asleep under the stars, your tired mind eager to rest.

You didn’t know the man you were desperately hoping to avoid had landed a night earlier with his private jet. When he’d greeted your middle brother late in the night, saying he would crash for now and greet everyone properly in the morning when they were awake, Charles had gone to bed and the last remaining light of the house switched off. Only the silver moonlight illuminated your pretty face and unsuspecting figure when Max Verstappen stepped outside his bedroom's French doors, hoping to cool off - but instead felt his blood pumping heatedly at the sight of you.

Honestly, he hadn't expected to see you for years as you'd understandably fled to the other side of the continent the second you had the change to escape. You’d turned from a nervous, cute schoolgirl into a gorgeous woman, and his intense gaze hungrily roams over your peaceful sleeping body. He was going to ruin you, he thinks wickedly, gently stroking your still chubby cheeks that subconsciously leaned into his touch.

He decided to give you one last night of quiet as he left you in deep sleep, walking back inside with dark desire brewing. The childish bully he’d been as an angry teen, desperate to prove himself, was gone. He was now a thrice proven world champion, a millionaire, a man who’d been with dozens of women but found only one he still wanted through it all. And it was none other than his racing rival's sweet younger sister, the one who'd stayed loyal to him since she was little. He was ready to make you his, whether you still wanted him or not.

When you finally saw him at breakfast the next morning you had been suspicious at his pleasant behaviour, greeting you like he would any family friend and asking how college had treated you. Your whole body had gone stiff, eyes distrustfully following his every move. You’d been forced to respond back politely as your family watched you, your mum still grinning as she rooted for her daughter to become romantically involved with her childhood crush. If only your family knew how much Max tormented you, they’d never let him get within 10km of you again. But to your surprise, Max kept up his kind manner even when your family would be out of the room, laughing and smiling easily at you and somehow bringing confusing butterflies back to swirl in your stomach. After the week he'd spent at your vacation home, you'd naively started to think maybe he had changed. Maybe the five years away had made him mature into the charming, funny driver you'd seen in numerous interviews and ads, being unable to avoid his far reaching fame.

But it turned out his respectful behaviour, all through the engagement celebrations and the after party, only served as a ploy to get you to foolishly lower your guard. Max had greedily collected up all the information he’d missed over the years, about what your likes and dislikes were now, about how you’d gotten a job with your own means at the F1 paddock. And then he casually informed you over dinner that he’d spoken to Horner who was coincidentally looking for a mechanical engineer - and had wanted to interview you after seeing your resume. Your family had been ecstatic at a job for you in a prestigious garage, despite their blood thirsty Ferrari loyalty. Even Cha had caught you after dinner, telling you that it was thoughtful of Max to look out for you, that as your big brother he’d feel so much better if you were working in a winning team’s garage and being protected by Max, instead of alone in a poorly performing team.

You were so confused, couldn’t understand why Max was trying to get involved - and you told him so that night, hushed angry whispers in the hallway after everyone had gone to bed. He’d smirked, leaning down to press you into the wall, saying Wasn’t it obvious Bunny? I want you.

Your eyes widened in shock, and you stammered out your confusions, asking him why he would say such a thing, only to feel his lips brushing your ear. His deep voice murmured his explanation of how his father didn't think Max had been focused enough when he was younger, had wanted him to throw all distractions to the side...including you. I'm a three time world champion now, Max said with a cocky grin. It doesn't matter what he says anymore, I do what I want.

Although his initial words about how the change in his behaviour being due to his controlling father sent a pang of empathy through you, you hadn't come this far to just give in. You pushed him off you with all your might, only being able to get a couple of inches as you glared and said you're delusional, Max, if you think I'd ever forgive you. Much less want you back after the hell you put me through. Storming off, you naively thought that was the end of it, that Max would back off once he saw you weren't the same lovesick girl he could toy with anymore. Not gonna call me Maxie anymore? he teases at your retreating back.

You should have known Max always got what he wanted, because he finds his way into your bedroom later that night. It was stupid to not lock your room because you think he wouldn't lay a hand on you when under the same roof as your brothers. Softly closing the door behind him, Max's dark gaze took in your curvy, sleeping figure in your childhood room. It was still decorated with your younger self's belongings as your Mama had always wanted you to feel welcome - but you had never come back after graduating. So you slept against a large plushie Bunny, cutely dressed in a pink matching shorts and camisole set. The twisted desire to corrupt the sleeping beauty in front of him rushes to Max's head - and his hardening cock- and he doesn't hesitate to slowly run his large palms over your body. He teasingly slides one hand up your sheer camisole to graze your large tits and the other down your shorts, to lightly toy with your pussy through cotton panties. The sweet dream you'd been having started to turn into a dirty one from the stimulation, and you instinctively grind back against the warm, hard body pressed into your back as you moan sleepily.Your dream is getting more and more heated as Max plays with your sensitive body, and only when you’re starting to drench your panties with slick do your eyes hazily blink open. Your adorably confused expression turns him on even more as he captures your gasp in his mouth, using his tongue to explore the inside of your mouth. Soon he has your panties pulled to one side and his thick finger sliding into your dripping folds. Your muffled protests have started slipping into confused moans, and he doesn't need to keep you silent any longer as start kissing him back when your body's frustrated needs take over your mind's denials. Max looks down on your face, memorising how pretty your wide brown eyes looked as you teared up, and he whispers filthy things in your ear to send you off the edge and spiralling into your first orgasm. You're so sensitive, bunny, you’re still a virgin aren’t you? Saved yourself just for me like a good girl, hmm?

You’d silently cried into your plush toy as you buried your flushed face into it, feeling lost in the overwhelming pleasure that you knew you shouldn't be feeling, that was wrong but felt so right. Drool stained your poor bunny plush as you bit down on it to muffle your scream of Maxie as waves of satisfaction rolled over you. You'd fallen back into a deep sleep after the overwhelming stimulation, distantly feeling Max's lips press a goodnight kiss to your tear stained cheeks. And when you awoke in the morning, you almost thought you'd imagined up the whole thing, a particularly naughty wet dream, but when you found that your panties were missing underneath your cute pajama shorts you knew there was only one person who would have taken them with him.

You didn’t even get a chance to confront him because you find out the very same day that Max had gotten his lawyer to cancel your Alpine contract and have Redbull send you a new one, complete with a generous signing bonus that anyone would be a fool to refuse. With your family watching you expectantly, you knew it would be too hard to explain your way out of this. So you reluctantly signed the 1 year contract, telling yourself it was only a temporary problem, that you would surely be hiding out the back of the garage and in the workshops, well away from your childhood bully.

That’s all Max needed to get you alone, to start his corruption of you, his favourite Leclerc sibling. Right from your first day, he’d welcomed you with a firm hug, his swollen biceps pressing you against his broad chest, squeezing your plump ass and making you squeal - but striding off before you could say anything. Or coming up behind you when you were bent over, tinkering on something, and making sure you could feel his impressive semi against your covered slit. You'd always desperately try to move away, anxious someone would see - but you stood no chance against the adult Max's strength when he tightened his grip around your thick hips and grinded himself on your jiggling ass.

He still teased you, sure, but now it came off as harmless flirting, steeped into your childhood friendship. And conflicting feelings swirled in your chest when you saw the lucky ribbon you’d gifting him as a kid somehow still tied to his seat, an ever present good luck charm. Everyone else would smile at you two encouragingly, saying you looked so sweet together, where you secretly a couple? No one seemed to share your nervousness around Redbull's champion driver, or pick up on the undertone of darkness in his intense gaze when he looked at you.

Soon he has you travelling exclusively with him, staying in all the same hotels, under the guise of being his personal mechanic for any last minute corrections. Charles loved it, saying this way Max could always keep a close eye on you when you were away from home. If only your overprotective brother knew he was sending his little sister right into the den of the lion. And the so called Dutch Lion was no longer holding himself back from taking your sweet innocence all for himself.

You'd always belonged to him, after all.

It first started when he’d gotten absolutely furious seeing you at a race afterparty in Miami, giggling cutely in a pretty minidress with an engineer you’d started to flirt with at work. Max had all but dragged you to his private booth, tossing you over his strong shoulder when you tried to stand your ground and stand firmly in your strappy high heels. He kicked all the models and B list celebrities trying to leech out of the dimly lit room, pushing your head down till you were staring up at him, your pretty face bathed in the red neon lights as you anxiously bite your glossed lip.

If you wanted to get fucked so bad, he growled deeply, unbuckling his belt and making your eyes go wide with fear as the biggest cock you’d ever seen emerges, you can just beg for it nicely like the good little slut you are, hmm? You’re sniffling, tears emerging in your wide doe eyes as you beg him please Maxie, please don't do this, I promise I’ll stop-

But he doesn’t listen to one pleading word, his twisted mind obsessed with one thing and one thing only - making the pure Leclerc sweetheart gag and choke on his mean cock. You knew better than to get in the way of what Max wanted, because he always ended up getting it. Instead you let your mind go blank, letting the guilty pleasure cloud your senses to ignore the reality of how mean Max was being, your pliant mouth dropping open as you let him ruin your throat. There isn’t a glimmer of his childhood sweetness in his dark, icy blue eyes as he memorizes the hypnotising sight of your chubby cheeks slurping at raging erection, the tears falling down your face at performing your first blowjob on your knees at a nightclub just making him impossibly harder. He groans as your sweet mouth slurps on his warm length, continuing to whisper his filthy promises to punish you and slipping into dutch as he climaxed. Fuck, fuck, erg lekker, so fucking good- He made sure your crying cheeks was pressed right into his tense abs when he finally emptied his load inside you, panting heavily from how good your heavenly tongue felt. He didn’t move until you followed his instructions and tried to swallow every drop. Your inexperienced mouth struggled, half of his sticky cum leaking out the corners of your mouth. He tutted mockingly, smearing his release all over your swollen lips with his thumb and saying he’d have to give your throat so much more training so it knew how to suck a cock, hmm?

Your cheeks burned with humiliation at failing to please him properly, even though he was practically forcing you to deepthroat him. The next day, when you woke up with no voice, you’d had to pretend you had a cold when seeing Cha for brunch the next morning.

And when he’d have a bad qualifying, he’d easily swipe his way into your hotel room two doors down from his. He often finds you in a cute silky babydoll, getting ready to sleep after a long day in the garage but making sure to dress prettily because you never know when Max is in a bad mood and wants to take it out on you. You had one more job to do, and that’s to make up for whatever mistake you must have made with the car and fucked up his hot lap, Max would argue. An angry Max always scared you so you would sweetly beg for his forgiveness, even for a mistake you would never have made on the car, letting him abuse your petite frame to vent his frustrations.

Tonight, he wanted to play with your breasts, sliding the silky straps off your nightie off your shoulders to hungrily eye your curves, tanned nipples quickly tightening from the chill. Can’t get enough of these pretty fucking tits, he said as he sloppily fucked them while you obediently kneeled in between his spread legs. You’re squeezing your plush chest together to cushion his raging erection, his angry red tip making you squeal when he growls and splatters cum all over your deliciously tanned skin. Knowing he’d get mad if you don’t let him mark his territory, you rub the sticky cream all over your hardened nipples and large breasts before you clean up his drooling cockhead with your mouth. He cooes his praises at you, telling you see, you’re perfect at this, maybe he’ll have you promoted from engineer to his personal cocksleeve to relieve his stress, hmm?

You feel so dirty at the wetness gushing between your legs at his filthy words, biting your lip at the thought of Max fucking you in his driver’s room while your brothers stood just a garage over in Ferrari. But despite his constant teasing, he knew to never cross the line fully and actually fuck you. That would scare you away, make you too anxious, and although he played rough and mean when he'd been younger, he now had the patience to wait and leave you wanting more, so that you'd be the one to come to him. So he edged you constantly, working you up only to pull away just as you almost climaxed, his name on your tongue like a prayer. Or pulling you into sleep against his bare muscled chest, so that you'd feel his morning wood against your soaked panties but be unable to do anything except dry hump him.

And his plan worked because after only a few months, your once pure and innocent mind has become utterly ruined for Max’s attention. The Dutch Lion has convinced you that you’re meant to be his plaything, and you can’t find it within you to try and deny him any longer. Would it truly be so wrong to give in to the naughty desires you’d been having about your childhood sweetheart, your school bully, your brother’s rival on track but friend that had been trusted to keep his little sister safe? When you’d grown too desperate to satisfy yourself by grinding on your pillow or your tiny fingers, you’d decided to entice Max even more in the hopes that he’d properly take your innocence.

You’d certainly caught the Dutchman’s eye, as well as many other hungry gazes, when you started arriving on the paddock in cute heels and floral minidresses. And of course, your generous cleavage was out on full display in sweetheart necklines, instead of conservatively hidden in an oversized Redbull shirt. You’d made sure to have your lanyard tucked right in between your bouncing tits too, the label of Max Verstappen’s Enineering Team dangling and drawing attention with each bounce of your tits when you walked. Because you knew your Maxie just as well as he knew you, after all - and he was a intensely competitive and jealous man. You hadn’t even had to wait till the debrief as he’d hightailed it right out of the meeting room, taking you to his motor home through a back passage.

You still play the clueless little virgin, adamant on trying to resist him even though you're secretly finding it just as dirty and hot as Max does when he shoves you against the door, locking it firmly. Fuck, your body drives me wild, it’s all your fault that I’m getting distracted like this. How can you be such a naive virgin but walk around with the body of a slut just begging to get fucked, huh?

You frantically shake your head, trying to plead your innocence but he doesn’t hear your words, instead grabbing a hold of your miniskirt and asking if you understood girls with thick asses like you shouldn’t be showing them off unless you wanted attention, yeah? You started crying easily, already finding your thoughts going fuzzy as you slipped into submission, craving the way he’d degrade you for his own pleasure.

He’d have to punish you for distracting him, he said, even though he’d won P1 it had been torture seeing your fat ass bending over when you dropped your phone in front of him. You were lucky no one else had seen your cotton panties or he’d have to fucking kill them.

His possessive words make you shiver, doe brown eyes staring up at him expectantly and waiting for his orders. He swears at your obedient expression and guides your hand to his sizeable bulge, making you squeal, hoping it sounds like fright and not eagerness. He rubs your tiny palm across his pants, demanding to know just how the hell he was meant to focus with a hard on the whole race?

When you can’t answer him properly he smirks and tells you that you’ll just have to take your punishment like a good girl, then. Within seconds he has you lying across his lap, your miniskirt up around your hips and white cotton panties pulled down to snugly trap your thick thighs together. And then he’s spanking you with his large hands, telling you to count and meanly restarting each time you lost track when he hits extra hard to watch your ass bounce. By the time he’s finally content your cheeks are red and burning, and you’ve left drool all over his sofa from your desperate efforts to muffle your wails.

You like that, don’t you bunny? He asks meanly. You start sniffling again at his mean words, cheeks burning with humiliation because it had felt soooo good but you felt so naughty for enjoying it. You'd die if he found out. So instead you tell him he was being so mean, Maxie, couldn’t he just be nice to you like when he’d been younger?

Your eyes widen as you blurt the words out instinctively, making Max’s expression grow stormy at your bratty reply. Ripping your panties off entirely, he stuffs them into his pocket and tells you to explain why you’re fucking dripping all over me then, hmm? - running his thick fingers along your dripping cunny and smirking at the long strands of sticky wetness that connect to his fingers when he pulls away. When you don’t respond, too embarrassed by how your body has given you away, he slides the fingers into your closed mouth despite your attempts to turn your head. He makes you lick him clean, tasting yourself on him, murmuring if you were a good slut and spread your legs for him he might consider eating you out.

The ache between your thighs is almost as painful as your tender ass now, and your virgin cunny tingles from the idea of Max kissing you down there. Even though he’s being so mean, you can’t help but sit down willingly against the sofa arm and slowly part your thick thighs, blushing all the while as he examines you intently. You whine when his hungry gaze continues to linger, but he doesn’t stop, even taking out his phone to snap photos of your pussy after holding your thighs open to stop you frantically closing them when you see what he’s doing. It’s so cute and wet he murmurs distractedly, looking entranced as he slowly sinks a single thick finger in and finds it completely sucked in by your tight, drooling pussy. Really, you’ve never let any boy except for me touch you here, not even with his fingers? At the shake of your head and shy murmur of no, just my own, I promise, Maxie he breaks into an evil, satisfied grin. So this little hole is really all mine to claim, huh?

It turns out going down on you was really more of a punishment than a pleasure because he makes you cum multiple times with his skilled tongue. You’re begging him to stop, feeling overstimulated and completely wrecked, mascara stained tears running over your chubby cheeks. When he finally eases his sadistic torture after teasing flicks of his broad tongue have you squirting a third time, you’re too fucked out to protest him separating your puffy cunny lips and spitting onto it, as if it belonged to him. Bunny, if your brothers knew the kind of things I was doing to their precious baby sister, Max says, chuckling darkly. They’d want to slam me straight into the nearest barricade and have my head on a spike.

But your brothers remain as oblivious to your corruption as ever, with an endless supply of work excuses easily being used by Max and now you, as you started to fully give in and enjoy the intense pleasure being his personal fucktoy brought you. He’d taken your sweet virginity on a hot night in Singapore after beating Charles to P1, telling you that the best reward wasn’t the trophy but knowing he got to cum raw inside your untouched cunny. After plying you with champagne at the yacht afterparty, he'd taken you back and fucked you on the French chaise, not even making it to the bed. He’d been gentle the first time, huskily whispering praises in your ears as you desperately tried to adjust to the size, his cock so much larger than his fingers. He licked away the tears at the corner of your eyes as you bite his shoulder, lost in the waves of pleasure as you ride out your orgasm.

When he finally carries you over to the bed, climbing over your satisfied figure, you’re fooled into thinking he’s going to cuddle you. He’s turning you onto your front and you’re expecting to feel him behind you, bringing you into him as his little spoon like he does ever night. But your sleepy eyes go wide open when your thick hips are suddenly pulled up into the air, and your flushed face pressed down firmly into the sheets. And then he huskily whispers it’s time to fuck you properly, be a good bunny for me and take it, okay?

You wailed into the cushions, your open mouth leaving drool all over the pillowcases, as his cock bullies your tight cunny over and over. He reaches around to toy with your sensitive clit, smirking when your crying turned into confused moans of pleasure as the pressure in your pussy starts to feel so good. Soon he’s slamming his hard length into your twitching figure, slapping your red plump ass repeatedly and telling you how funny it’d be if Charlie found out his rival had claimed your virginity, hmm? Should he tell him next time the Ferrari driver tried to one up him on the track? You sob, begging him not to tell your protective brother, shaking your ass onto him and telling him he could even cum inside if he wanted instead of telling your brother. Max groans at your gullibility. Silly girl, he croons as he bends down to whisper in your ear, his muscled abs pressing down on you. I was always going to do that anyways, hmm? This ass belongs to me.

And then he’s moaning into your drooling mouth as his hips still above yours, draining his heavy balls into your pussy that had already been stuffed full of his thick, creamy load from the first round. Rivulets of your mixed juices run down the inside of your thighs, overflowing from the sheer amount of cum he’s pumped you full of. You know better than to ask him to wear a condom, instead praying that it was the wrong time of the month to get knocked up. Especially when he doesn’t let you get up and try to pee it out, instead murmuring he’s just going to stuff a couple of fingers inside and make sure you don’t waste anymore, okay? You try to resist, crawling away and wanting to save your poor, overstimulated clit but once again Max easily holds you still. Hmm, guess I’ll just have to teach you a lesson and use my cock to plug you up, he threatens meanly, making tears fall down your face again and his dick twitches with interest. Every man had his pleasures, and world champion Max Verstappen’s was to see the Leclerc baby sister crying and begging for him. Sick bastard, you think distantly through a pleasurable haze as he sinks back inside your gummy walls and makes you keep his cock warm.

Your secret affair with the Dutch Lion continues easily throughout the year. And at the end of your contract, at the yearly FIA prizegiving, you attend with Charles instead of with the Redbull team, dutifully doing your part as the Leclerc sister now that your term at a rival garage was done. At one point you get up from dinner, saying you had to find the bathroom, but end up gone for 20 minutes, missing Cha being awarded overtake of the year for when his Ferrari had divebombed the leading Redbull. Later, when everyone is mingling, Charles walks over to Max’s table, shaking his hand and taking a seat to reminisce about the season. They’d come so far together from their childhood karting days, wasn’t it heartwarming now that they stood together on the F1 stage?

The two men laugh, catching up on missed updates during the busy end of season. Soon they’re talking about their love lives, Max congratulating Cha on his relationship he’s recently made public. The Ferrari driver warmly returns the compliment, saying whoever the Redbull driver was seeing recently must be treating him well because he’s never seen Max so relaxed before. He’s seen the gossip magazines speculate who the silhouette of a mystery girl seen making out on Max’s lap in a paparrazi shot through his car window. Max slyly commented that it was good the camera hadn’t been able to go lower, because then they’d have seen that she’d actually been bouncing on my dick underneath her skirt. Charles laughs at Max’s deviousness, patting him on the back for being such a shameless fucker.

Charles had forgotten to go find the youngest Leclerc, which was just as well because he would never have been able to guess where you had been hiding. You’re diligently on your knees, drooling on Max’s cock underneath the tablecloth, safely tucked in close between his spread legs. Your brother is completely unaware that the girl he and Max are joking about is his innocent baby sister, who’s currently worshipping his rival’s thick length eagerly. Paying the price for her brother’s overtake on the track with her glossy pink lips, just as Max had ordered you too when he found out what award his rival was getting tonight.

As the night continues, all formality lost as the party goers make use of the open bar, it was all to easy for the blonde Dutchman to make you follow him to the private bathroom. It’s so degrading, so mean of Max to do this, to have you on the dirty bathroom floor with your pretty curls unpinned from the classy updo you’d spend ages styling. Your expensive red silk dress hangs off your hips and exposes your bare, bouncing tits to his hungry gaze. So slutty, no bra and all, hmm? You wanted me to fuck you tonight, didn’t you? Answer me! He slaps his hard length repeatedly against your chubby cheeks, spraying precum everywhere and making your perfect makeup run.

Soon mascara stained tears are dripping down your face as Max makes you finish sloppily sucking him off, his phone camera on you and recording every single filthy sound that fills the air. It’s obscene, the way his huge cock stretches your small plush lips open all the way and your eyes roll to the back of your head every time his tip grazes the back of your throat. Hmm, so eager to drink my cum, aren’t you? He coos, and you nod dazedly, your doe eyes glassy. Fuck, you’re such a good little slut, letting me do whatever I want you to your body. My own personal fucktoy. Bet you’d even let me piss down your throat if I wanted, huh?

You gag at this, trying to shake your head but finding it impossible with the strong grip he has on your hair. Max chuckles at your panicked expression, reassuring you not to worry, he wasn’t that mean. You don’t believe him, because later he bends you over the bathroom counter and makes you look in the mirror to see where his leaking cock repeatedly sinks in to the hilt, stretching your cunny out yet again, filling it with his thick seed. You text Cha some excuse about feeling unwell and leaving early as Max buckles you into his passenger seat, knowing there was no way you could explain your absolutely wrecked appearance to your brother afterwards.

You’ve realized that the legal end of your Redbull contract really had no say on anything. Because at the end of the day the only thing that mattered was what Max wanted - and he wanted you to stay by his side, forever. So you let him take your hand in his a few months later at Lorenzo’s wedding, revealing the secret relationship to your family. Your mother is overjoyed, telling you both that you always had her blessing, ever since you’d been kids. Your brothers take a lot more convincing, of course, as well as Max swearing privately to Cha that you certainly hadn’t been the girl from the paparazzi car incident, he’d never treat the Leclerc princess like that of course! He was a playboy before, sure, but for you he was willing to stop all that and commit.

Charles gives you two his begrudging yes, seeing how attentive Max was with you, always intently watching you whenever you entered the same room as him and always knowing where you were if you walked away. And the way you’d look up adoringly at the blonde, desire and love clear in your doe eyes. Soon you’ve accepted Max’s offer to move into his penthouse, unpacking all the lingerie and diamond necklace sets he’s been buying you for months. And when he comes home at the end of a tiring day, sighing and settling on the living room couch, you now know to anticipate Max’s needs before he has to tell you. You crawl over to him, wearing skimpy lingerie in his favourite colour, nuzzling your face into his clothed thigh and asking please Maxie, could you please suck him off, your mouth felt empty without him?

He places a loving kiss to your forehead and unbuckles his belt for you, cooing praises at what a good little pet you were being for him. This time, when he cums, you have no issue greedily swallowing every single drop of his hot, sticky cum, licking your well trained lips. So yummy, Maxie…Would you like my pussy or my ass next?

He smirks down at your slutty words, a dazed expression on your face, dumbly ready to please him however he liked, whenever he was in the mood, wherever he wants it. Nothing quite beats having his own personal toy, even if it’s taken some time to break you in. Doesn’t matter now, though, because it has been worth it. Because you’ll never leave his side again, completely devoted to him, the concept of being with any other man ruined for you.

Time for him to make good on his childhood promise, Max thinks. Make you his vrouw, his wife, once and for all.

[calamity-talvi]

So Arthur, the knights and Merlin are about to enter this mystical place of some sort for a mission and at the door they are asked to remove any and all weapons.

Knights remove their swords, any knives they have, a couple crossbows and bows and arrows and at the end have a sizeable pile or weapons that you'd typically expect for them.

Then the likely magical creature at the door turns at looks at Merlin. "You as well, otherwise you can go no further."

All the knights pipe up various announcements of "Merlin!? But it's Merlin!? There's nowhere to hide any weapons on his person! He doesn't carry anything!"

And Merlin rolls his eyes, tired of magical creatures trying to catch him out with their tricks and relents.

*Cue the largest pile of odds and sods around*

Numerous daggers, out numbering the knights rather respectable pile.

Several vials of poison, some of them so cartoonishly poison they'd probably have a puff of smoke the shape of skulls if opened.

Some how a bow and quiver of arrows (The knights dare not ask because the murderous look Merlin is giving the creature guarding the door every time he tries to claim he's done everything and is told to keep removing items he's holding makes them all a fair bit terrified)

And the pile just grows and grows and the items get stranger and stranger. A horn that when blown into summons a pack of wolves to help, an alarming number of cursed items that do various things that causes even the creature at the door to pale in concern, a vial of water from Avalon, a strand of unicorn hair (again none question how that is considered dangerous, they're all too scared to ask)

But eventually Merlin get's rid of everything deemed to be a "weapon" and just huffs his way inside and goes "You lot coming? I can't believe magical creatures and their stupid laws, I couldn't even sneak x by them."

[heavenlymorals]

I feel like a lot of people forget that the Van Dir Linde gang was actually famous in their universe- Dutch Van Dir Linde was as famous as the real life Butch Cassidy. The gang had as much infamy as the Wild Bunch or the Dalton gang. Arthur Morgan, John Marston, Bill Williamson, Javier Esculla, Lenny Summers, Charles Smith, Sean McGuire and more were probably as famous as the real life Doc Holliday, Jesse James, Black Bart, Rufus Buck, Ike Clanton, the Sundance Kid, Wild Bill Hickock, and more.

Sadie Adler would've been just as famous. She was a gunslinger like the real life Calamity Jane and Anne Oakley and she was an outlaw at one point like Laura Bullion, Pearl Hart, Belle Star, The Cassidy Sisters, and more.

The other women of the camp would've probably been less popular but still very intriguing figures to people in the future.

In the newspapers, we see that there are songs about Dutch's boys and books too. Trelawny mentions them being on dime novels. In the future, the pieced together story of the Van Dir Linde gang might've gotten adapted into a movie, similar to "Butch Cassidy and the Sun Dance Kid" or "The Assassination of Jesse James by the Coward Robert Ford". They could've gotten biopics, documentaries, and more.

Historians and fans of the wild West era would dig up records, find pictures, and maybe even track down people who were apart of the gang, accomplices to the gang, or victims of the gang. They would try to piece together stories to figure out the mystery of what actually happened to the gang.

People would argue over things that happened in the gang and have their evidence to back it up. Letters written by gang members would become so valuable. If they ever someone come across Arthur's journal, it would probably be considered one of the most valuable pieces of documentation to ever exist for that time period.

The guns of the gang would probably be kept in museums if found. Albert Mason's portrait of Arthur Morgan would be found in history books, same as other pictures.

Dutch would probably be a very controversial figure in history- some would hail him as a failed hero and others would condemn his violence no matter the reason- they wouldn't know what the people in the gang knew- especially in the end. Same with the rest of the gang members.

They'd probably all get romanticized. Hosea and Dutch's friendship, the raising of the boys, Dutch and Annabelle and his fued with Colm, Mary and Arthur, John and his family, Javier being a revolutionary- no one would know the full story.

And then there is Jack- he may live to see the 1960s and 70s and 80s. He may have grandchildren who'd pull him into a theater to watch a retelling of the gang that he was a part of at one point. He'd be amused. He'd think that the actor playing his father was too clean looking, too pretty. He'd think that the movie Arthur was too skinny. He'd think that the man playing Dutch had a funny voice as he tried to mimic the accent. He'd laugh and make notes in his head of the historical accuracy. He'd feel sorrowful at the deaths of the characters- he knew them at some point. And no one at the theater would know that the old man with the rowdy bright eyed boys who brought him there was Jack Marston, the last of the Van Dir Linde gang.

Jack might talk about it to the public. He might do interviews. He might even write a book about his father, the infamous John Marston. Those would be priceless. Even Beecher's Hope might be kept around and visited as a historical site for history goers.

And honestly? It is such a bittersweet thing.

[brothermoth]

The fact that John signed his bank papers with his actual fucking name is so funny to me. Sweetie, literally just change your last name. Do you know how many fucking Johns there are??? As far as 1907 is concerned you could look him in the eye and tell the man your name was Hodge Glongler and there would be absolutely no way to verify this. Hell, they'd believe you if you said it with enough conviction.

Dutch has like twelve people unquestioningly believe his name is HOAGIE MACINTOSH. He just says it on the spot and not a soul questions it. Arthur just changes his last name but he at least like ...sticks to it. He'd had zero trouble just fully living by a different name for years. His grandkids would've been like 'what do you MEAN our last name isn't actually Callahan??? He just fucking made it up????

[georgeclarkesgf]

shush, it's a secret | george clarke

it's not unusual for you to be over at george's flat considering you and him met at university and both moved to london around the same time. but about four months ago, your relationship changed from close friends to just that, a relationship.

you'd both decided to not tell anyone, despite how difficult it was proving to be to not be all over each other 24/7. the fans knew of you, to an extent. you'd appear in the backgrounds of videos or tiktoks posted by the boys. your social media was public, however, none of your accounts included your name, making it less likely for fans to find you.

tonight, you're over at the flat again, legs strewn over george's lap and eating some of the dominoes he'd ordered. a movie chris had picked out plays on the tv, but was now long forgotten about since a debate has broken out amongst the boys. over what? you don't know. you're too focused on the way george's hand is subconsciously trailing up your thigh, dangerously high for a 'close friend'. he honestly hasn't noticed that he's doing it, too engaged in the ongoing debate. so, you pick your phone up from your chest and message him.

too high x

his phone dings and he leans forward, grabbing it off the table before noticing it was from you. you watch as his brows furrow in confusion, before sending him another message.

your hand x

realisation hits george and he squeezes your thigh gently as an apology, moving his hand back down to rest above your knees. he mouths 'sorry' at you, to which you can't help but giggle and shake your head. arthur (hill) looks between you two in slight confusion, going to say something but deciding to keep his mouth shut.

it wasn't that you didn't want to tell people, you'd both just agreed it would be easier figuring things out and adjusting to this shift in dynamic without other people prying their noses in. it didn't make the thrill of getting caught any less exciting though. even the simple things such as him wrapping his arms around your waist and kissing your shoulder made you get an adrenaline rush.

you can feel your eyes growing heavy, despite it still being relatively early, and decide to call it a night.

"sorry guys but i'm gonna head to bed," an echo of boos fill the room while you shrug, laughing, "i'm tired guys leave me alone. mind if i crash in your bed george?"

it feels weird having to ask your boyfriend if you can sleep in his bed, but it seems to be doing the trick of keeping the relationship a secret. there are only three bedrooms and you've known george the longest, so it makes sense you'd stay in his room.

"no go for it, i probably won't be long." you give him a smile and climb off the sofa, heading to his room.

george's eyes widen when he next checks the time, not realising it was so late.

"shit." he mumbles to himself, gaining a weird look from the boys.

"you alright george?" arthur (hill) questions.

"yea i'm fine. just didn't realise it was so late that's all, got stuff to do tomorrow. i'm gonna go to bed though, night guys." he was lying right through his teeth, he had nothing to do tomorrow.

what george had meant to be ten minutes or so had turned into an hour and a half. arthur (tv) ended up coming over and they'd gotten so caught up in conversation that time seemed to fly by. he knows that you hate falling asleep without him and feels guilt seep into his skin. especially since he knows you won't ask for him to come to bed, not wanting it to come off weird since to the others, you're 'just friends'.

you're staring at the ceiling when he shuts his bedroom door, having fallen asleep for all of twenty minutes before you woke up to an empty bed over an hour ago.

"i'm so sorry baby, i didn't realise it had been that long," you turn to look at him, enjoying the way he starts stroking your cheek with his thumb, "have you been waiting for me?"

"mhm, fell asleep for about twenty minutes and been awake since. it's okay though, kept myself busy," george's jaw drops slightly, clearly misunderstanding your words, "oh my god george, no! i meant by reading some more of my book you perv. get your mind out the gutter."

he laughs and goes in to kiss you but you push his forehead away before he can. you scrunch up your face in disgust.

"ow, what was that for?" he's rubbing his forehead like you just hit him with a bat, making it much more dramatic than necessary.

"brush your teeth, you have pizza breath." he tries to do it again and catch you off guard but fails, "i mean it george."

"yes ma'am."

he disappears into the bathroom and returns a few minutes later. his teeth are brushed and he's wearing a pair of grey joggers. your arms open wide, inviting him to lay on top of you so you can run your nails through his hair and up and down his back. a feeling both of you love.

"can i kiss you now?" he teases, grin widening when you nod your head.

several kisses are planted on your face and you know he's purposefully missing your lips. you frown, wanting him to kiss you properly, not having felt his lips on yours in what felt like years. realistically, it's been a few hours.

"george, kiss me properly." you whine.

and he does just that. one hand holding himself up to hover over you, the other stroking your cheek and bringing you in closer until your lips finally meet. the kiss starts off slow and loving, until he presses you further into the mattress, his hands beginning to roam your body. every ounce of sleep you were feeling disappears, suddenly becoming hyper aware of what's happening.

pulling away, you mumble, "we can't, everyone's here. they'll hear us."

"never stopped us before." george whispers against your mouth, connecting your lips once again.

well touché.

a/n don't ask where the inspiration for this came from at 2 in the morning cause i don't have an answer. not proofread either sorryyy. shall i make a part two? i feel like i'll end up doing it anyway but what do you guys think??

[grugruel]

Big Iron

Pairings:

bounty hunter!Arthur Morgan x outlaw!f!reader

NSFW/MDNI

Masterlist

Summary: She's escaped a robbery, and bounty hunters have been sent out after her. They'd made no problem so far– that said, the notorious Arthur Morgan set upon her trail.

Word count: 5.7k

Warnings: Arthur Morgan, pinv sex, rough sex, soft sex ish, lap/bulge-riding, praise, petnames (girl, sweetheart, ma'am), creampie, overstimulation.

AN: 3rd person pov, trying it out. Not yet proofread!

A campfire blazed in the night, casting a warm glow over the small, temporary hideout.

Smoldering flakes of ash rose skyward in tired swirls, and the woman's face lit up, sizzling embers of spent coal entrancing her.

The fires of a bright building shouldered It's way into her mind, stealing precious space from all else.

Trees around her rustled, and she leaned back against the rockwall. An overhanging cliff sheltering her.

Guard lowered, at last. She let herself slide down the wall until she felt the ground beneath her thighs. Then dove deeper into the memory.

Money was all she had needed. But the simple, well practiced heist escalated. Attempted arson had suddenly been added to her list of offences, robbery another one among them. Which she could admit to, and proudly so.

But the fire. . . Now the fire was not her fault.

Not only was the law after her, but they'd also sent out money hungry bounty hunters aswell. She'd already tied two of them down yesterday, big brutish men they were. All muscle and no brains. Still, they proved to be quite the nuisance. But they wouldn't be a problem anymore unless they died of starvation, which would indeed be u fortunate.

She gritted her teeth at the memory, her eyes interanally. She doubted it, seeing as they were curently tied to the fence of the sheriff's office.

Which left only one real threat.

One man, one singular man; a notorious outlaw himself. He was the sheriff's most resent hire. Big, deadly, tall and muscled. From long days of hard work killing and robbing she imagined.

She'd actually seen him in person once, and she could admit, he looked dangerous, and devilishly handsome. The rumors had been right about that, she was only hoping that his volatile reputation along with the Van Der Lind gang's would turn out to be folly.

She shivered at the thought, shaking her to the very bones. If it were from the thought of him or the cool of the night, she did not know. She closed her arms around herself, stroking them for warmth as she pushed the unpleasant thoughts away, her gaze snapping to the treeline beyond.

Back to reality, and suddenly accutely aware of the black darkness that lingered between the thick stems beyond. Her vision was good, and she was quite hidden after all. No one would be sneaking up on her.

"Ma'am."

From the shadows, a man appeared at the edge of the campfires domain, vaguely illuminated by its warmth. Broad and tall in frame, the deep night clung to his back. His sudden prescence was the only evidence of his arrival, he'd made no sound nor been seen before he'd needed to be.

Her eyes snapped in his direction, widening with recognition, the eerie sense divulged itself to her body. Like poison, it spread quickly, crawling into every blood vessel and turning them ice-cold along its journey.

"Mister," she greeted, doing her damndest to stay calm.

His hat covered his eyes, but the smile he dealt was unmistakable. 'There's quite the bounty on you, girl.' The drawl of his accent sunk into her skin like the warmth of the fire.

"There's no doubtin' that," she nodded in admittal, slowly moving away from him, "Although im only worth half of it, I assure you."

She moved slowly, eyes meeting his as they poked out beneath his hat. He tilted his head to face hers, regarding her silently. Eyes flickering over her, the way her hair fell over her shoulders, and how her blouse revealed the hills of her chest. ". . . 'S that so?. . ." He took a step closer, the rope in his hands now excruciatingly evident to her.

She got to her feet in one swift motion, hesitantly gesturing for him to stay calm. "Mister, I'm not a murderer. The sheriff framed me." She took a few steps to the left, placing the fire between them.

The man chuckled. "I belive ya' ma'am." His hands pulled on the lasso, adjusting its length. Gripping it roughly from time to time, trigger fingers readying themselves for any sudden movement. "But the law can be a crooked thing sometimes." His eyes narrowed in on her, then shrugged nonchalantly. "But, a bounty 's still a bounty girl."

The birds sang above them, and the world blurred around her, her knees suddenly weak. Unfortunately for her, he would be there to catch her in a sense too literal for her liking.

"And I can say the same for myself ma'am, I'm a bad man. . ." His voice imposed, yet, the gravely tone vibrated perfectly well in her ears.

Gulping her nervousity, she assessed her options. . . And then ran.

Trees rushed past in peripheral whirls as she made her way along the cliff wall. Rope flexed behind her, threads wringing against eachother as it was swung and thrown with a woosh.

The air caressed her cheeks, pulling tears from her eyes and whistling in her ears. She gave it all she had, but it wasn't enough to stop the lasso from capturing her with deadly accuracy. It fell over her shoulders and tightened around her waist, pinning her arms to her sides.

The rope pulled taunt–and the world stopped moving for a short second, with a yank, her body whipped forward, and her feet was swept from under her–then, just as suddenly, it sped up again.

Like a tree cut down for its timber, she fell. The ground rushed up to greet her face as she stumbled to the ground with a hard thud. She panted, smelling the earth and feeling the wet grass tickle her face as she struggled against her entanglement; wriggling and thrashing like a stranded fish.

Well-used leather chaps groaned behind her as he stalked closer, winding the rope up with friction she was sure could start a fire, her stumache churned the thought.

The woman rolled onto her back to get a better layout of the situation–and there he stood. Just by her feet, he loomed over her. With his back to the fire, it cast a back-lit glow around him, framing the big man as he filled her sight. Fear and desire fought for the helm, conflicting her mind terribly.

He crouched down, bending over her as he circled the rope around her waist, foirtyfying her restraints and securing his valuable bounty tightly.

He grabbed the lasso and pulled her up diagonally. It pinched her midriff painfully and pulled her body flush against his, just so he could level her head with his. ". . . And I've done bad things," he whispered, lips brushing against her ear. A dull pulse appeared where there ought to be no pulse. She screwed her eyes shut, and lust for this man was the last thing she should be feeling. But oh. . . How his breath raised goosebumps and spread like a wildfire over her skin.

He straightened his legs and stood back, pulling her with him while keeping their bodies close together.

Her breath fanned over his lips as they stood a mere inch apart, one bound and the other free. A smirk made its way onto his lips, his hands sliding along the tied rope around her abdomen until they were at her waist. And in one strong motion–he threw her over his shoulder.

She yelped in surprise. "You brute!" Kicking wildy in hopes of getting free. But one of his arms circled around her legs and gripped the back of her thigh to keep them still, while he laid the other on the small of her back to stop her from falling. "You keep your hands to yourself Mister!" She shouted, struggling against his bullish strength.

"Yes, ma'am." He assured as he began walking, not paying her futile thrashing much mind. "That's not the kind of bad man I am."

She cleared her throat and huffed, expecting more of a reaction. She didn't quite know what to do in this situation, she hadn't planned this far ahead. She didn't think she'd ever be properly cought. "Well, good," she said curtly, calming herself.

Being a nuisance and making this whole situation worse would be a bad idea, and she hadn't made any progress thus far, seeing as his grip was solid steel. So she'd have to settle her mind with the feeling of his strong back beneath her instead. In fact, she was reveling in the feeling of his hand on her thigh.

He stomped out the campfire before moving to where he'd hidden his horse. "Sittin' or layin'?" He asked, being nice enough to hand her to option of sharing his saddle or to be stored over his horses ass.

She huffed, "what a gentleman. Take a guess Mister," she muttered.

He nodded, "Sittin' with me it is." His hands moved to her waist, and easily transfered her from his shoulder and onto the saddle. She scoffed for the sake of scoffing, eyes narrowing as she looked down on him, and if it had the power to, her look could certainly have killed him. "Quite presumtions of you."

With a low chuckle and a shake of his head, he gripped the saddle before climbing on. Placing his hands on either side of it, one hand on the pommel and the other on the cantel. Which just so happened to be between her thighs, and just behind her ass. Almost grazing her on both sides as he braced himself against the saddle, eyes meeting hers with a satisfied smirk, "Much more attitude from ya' girl and I'll have to take meassures."

Shock sprung itself on her, feeling dizzy all over again. The knuckle of his thumb was an inch away from brushing against her cunt. Her eyes widened at the fact, and the implications his words carried. Her loins burned, but she simply cleared her throat and neutralised her expression, "Id like to see you try." And faced away from him, turning her nose upward.

He climbed onto the horse, placing himself close intil her back and leaned over her shoulder. "I will if you'd let me, respectfully, ma'am," he whispered in her ear and then spurred his horse. Shivers shook her at that, her entire body vibrating with a dull sense of need.

They rode silently for a long while, and she wanted to sass him, she wanted it terribly. But was both afraid and hoping he'd take action, just as he'd stated.

The miles wound on, oh it felt never ending. Especially with the man behind her, rutting his hips against her with every step of the horse. He was a blessing against the cold, but pure torture as his heat soaked into all the wrong spots of her body.

Finally, it came time to rest. They'd ridden nonstop from the early morning of her capture to the next night. If that weren't enough, a heatwave had been raging for the entirety of the day as well, and the setting of the sun had barely made a difference.

He set her on the ground, binding her feet and hands before starting on the camp. Making quick work of the fire and tent as she sat down on a rock, silently watching the man work, and very much enjoying the show.

His skin was slick with sweat, much like herself. The cool light of the moon and the warmth of the fire made him glisten in every sense of the word, and oh, the way he toiled away.

He'd removed his vest and chaps as he got to work, respectively rolled up the sleeves of his shirt, which now stuck to his skin. A nuisance for him to be sure, but a dream for her, she could practically see the muscles of his chest rippling.

A drop of sweat trickled down her temple, tickling her skin and drawing focus away from the view. Her eyes widened as she realised how she stared at the stranger and shook her head, attempting to clear it.

Goodness, focus. She needed to hatch a plan.

Running would do her no good, he would be too fast. He wouldn't accept bribes either and was very hard to persuade. No attempts had been successful so far.

At that thought, unavoidably, abashedly her eyes snapped back to him as he pulled his shirt off and reached for a new one in his saddlebag. She clenched her jaw to keep it from falling, his strong chest was adorned by hair, trailing down his abdomen and disappearing under, the waist of his pants.

She swallowed. In that exact moment, she wanted nothing more than to see where that trail ended.

Her jaw began aching, she fought to tear her eyes away from him. Managing to direct her gaze to the ground instead, a d impatiently waited for him to put a fresh shirt on.

After a short while, she dared look up again. He'd pulled a log to opposite side of the fire and sat down, a cigarette had been placed between his lips, and was currently being inhaled with fervor. Tilting his head back, he released the cloud of smoke with a sigh.

Her eyes followed his movements intently, studying them as she hoped that perhaps he'd notice her and offer one–

"Want one, girl?" He nodded toward her, gesturing with the match box.

"I do, yes," she answered expectantly, holding her hands out for him to untie.

But to her surprise, he scoffed, then stod and walked around the fire. He crouched onto one knee in front of her, his arm bracing on top of the other. "You'll have to do better than that," he said.

He plucked the cigarette from his lips and offered it to her, holding it an inch from her mouth. She hesitated, observing him with disdain. "Go on," he nodded.

Reluctantly, she followed his orders, but met his eyes to make sure he knew how unhappy she was about it, and then leaned in.

Closing her lips around the cigarette, she could feel the dampness where his own lips had been moments before, and sucked the toxic smoke into her lungs, as if it were air.

She swore she saw something glint in his eyes, studying her pouting lips. And a plan struck her suddenly, but–

"Good girl," he hummed.

Again, shock gripped her. The praise rose right to her head, sending waves of heat cascading through her body. Then she coughed, the smoke settling wrong in her airways. She pulled back, letting him retrieve his cigarette while she worked to regain her composure. "You alright there, sweetheart?" He asked with a grin and patted her back before replacing the cig between his lips.

"Just fine, mister," she hissed, still reeling. "You got anything stronger? Whiskey, bourbon?"

He nodded and pulled out an old bottle of bourbon from his bag, "Could you?" She held her hands out to him again.

He studied her, stroking his stubbled jaw in thought. "Got somethin' for me, then?"

Insinuations led her down a path of filthy thoughts, but she instead opted for a simple, "Please?" Instead, attempting it cheapishly.

His hands slipped down to his hip, pulling the knife from its hilt. "That's more like it," he mumbeled with his cigarette clad lips.

And cut the rope around her hands and feet, stopping at the rope around her waist and met her eyes. "Try anythin'. . ." He raised his eyebrows and lowered his voice to a mocking tone. ". . . Run, hurt me, trick me." His eyes narrowed, the corner of his lip tugging. "And there'll be a steep price to be paid."

Swallowing, she nodded enthusiastically, "I just wan't a sliver of freedom before im locked up, you could understand that."

He nodded. "S'pose so. . ." And began untying. "The difference is, girl–" The lasso loosened and slid down her sides. "–that I'd never get caught." He gathered it and pulled it over her body, his fingers accidentally brushing against her hips, the sides of her breasts.

Her breath hitched, and their eyes met. Her skin tingled desperately as fluttering wingbeats set off in her stumache. Such a small thing, building into such a big reaction.

He cleared his throat, handing her the bottle as he threw the rope into the fire and put the lasso bag in his saddlebag. Finally replacing himself on another log, not as far away from her this time. He leaned back against the tree behind it and spread his legs wide. His bulge was enough to make her salivate. "It's not easy, you know, for a woman like me, when there's men like you, Mr Morgan."

Arthur quriked an eyebrow in question. "You know me?"

"I know of you," she corrected, taking a big swig of the fluid, then handed it back to him for him to do the same.

He nodded silently, a sigh escaping under his breath. "All bad I hope." He took another swallow, not to bothered by her statement. Probably used to hearing it by now.

She shook her head, taking the bottle and another gulp. "Many of the ladies say you're handsome."

At this, he looked up at her, chuckling. "Well, I don't know 'bout that."

"It's true. . ." Antoher sip, followed by a hiccup. "They say you can be quite the gentleman too."

His eyes bore into hers, his tone serious but expression joking as he humored her. "Depends on the lady." He reached for the bottle, and she stood up to give it to him. Walking closer, she handed it over, fingers brushing against each other in the motion.

His eyes met hers, and she brushed her hand under his chin. "You know what else they say, Mr Morgan?"

"No . . . What do they say about me, sweetheart?" A smirk made its way onto his lips. The liquor seamingly starting to affect the pair of them.

"That you're good in bed. . ." he stepped between his thighs, her hand falling from his chin to his neck, scratching at the nape gently.

He hummed appreciatively, then took another sip of the bourbon and set the bottle aside. His hands reached for her, coming to a rest on either side of her thighs, pulling her closer to him, squeezing them at his pleasure. "They're only rumours girl." He tilted his head backward, resting it against the tree to get a better look at her, eyes fastening on her lips.

With her other hand, she hiked her skirt up, revealing her thighs as she stepped over his legs. One at a time, then slowly sank down on his lap, while his hands automatically slid to her hips.

She placed herself on top of his bulge. He grunted from the pressure. The pulse within her began strumming at her nerves, turning them jittery.

"See, I doubt that, Mr Morgan." She whispered. "Women do not lie to eachother of such things." His bulge beneath her grew harder, luring a hidden smile from her. It took strength to will it from her lips and only reach her eyes. "They say you're rough, or gentle. Dependin' on your mood." As she said that, she could've sworn she detected the faintest red creep up his cheeks. Arthur Morgan, blushing? Now, she couldnt help herself and the smile reached her lips.

The man cleared his throat, acting as if it had never happened. "That's told of me in everythin' I do." He smirked, the grip on her hips hardening, knuckles turning white.

"But you're always sweet 'n caring." She continued, her own words were building the lust within her, making the pulse ever stronger. It grew harder to focus. She needed to release some of the pressure building inside her. Evaluating the consequences, and deaming them minor in conparison to her needs, she rocked her hips downward–grinding into his bulge.

Simultaneously, she whimpered and he hissed. She leaned against him, her lips brushing against his ear as shenuzzled his cheek. "Apparently, It's also true what they say 'bout ridin' cowboys-"

"Girl," he interrupted with a chuckle. "Dont think I dont know what you're doin'. . ." He breathed. "Seducin' me." With the tight grip on her hips, he rocked her hips against him, the rough fabric of his pants grinding against her core.

With a gasp, one of her hands shot out to burry itself in his hair. She leaned into him, the other hand grabbing his shirt for support as she rested her head against his shoulder. He nuzzled his cheek against hers, returning the gesture and muttered. "You use your sweet talkin', then get me drunk 'n run off, that your plan?"

Her eyebrows furrowed, hips grinding down harder, her ruts becoming more frantic, needy. She screwed her eyes shut from the copious amounts of pleasure washing over her. All she could do to answer him was hum in admittal as she strained hard to focus.

He chuckled. "Easy girl. . ." His voice commanding, low and raspy as he slowed her hips, but keeps the pace hard. "Use your words." He ordered, loving the way she fell apart for him.

She nodded hastily, hoping it'd be enough satisfy his request. But he pinched her hip through the fabric of her skirt, and her eyebrows furrowed in pain. However, not having the energy to even make a sound. Her thoughts were a blur, she couldn't tell what to keep hidden anymore. "Yes– yes. . ." She moaned, the coil inside her tightening impossibly hard.

"Thought so," he breathed, the words curt on his tongue, but lust evident in his voice. Suddenly, his hands left her hips, snd one arm snaked around her waist, his hand placing itself at the small of her back to push her against him.

Then he stood, drawing a whine from her. She did not quite understand what was going on as the loss of movement gradually undid all the progress she'd made. "Mr Morgan?" She inquired, hesitantly wrapping her legs around his hips.

He walked them toward the tent. "Arthur," he corrected, carrying her with ease. Pushing the tent flap to the side, he kneeled, bending over her as he placed her on the ground.

"Arthur," she smiled, worry seeping out of her as she realised he was making them more comfortable.

His knees slid apart, hooking her legs upon them as they spread. Her hands shot up in response, grabbing onto the collar of his shirt to pull him closer, close enough for his lips to hover over hers. Their eyes met. "Please. . ." She whimpered, one hand sliding downward. ". . .Please." She said again, fingertips trailing down his abdomen, suddenly grabbing hold of his bulge with a firm hand, his member rock hard. "Outlaw or gentleman?" She asked, smiling a wicked smile.

A grutn escaped him while his lips brushed over hers. "Neither." And grabs her wrist, pulling her hand away from his crotch and catching the other in the same motion. His free hand reached over her head, and the hauntingly familiar groaning of strong rope sounded above her. She shook her head, "Arthur, please. . ." Panic moved into her voice, the repeated words carrying a completely different meaning this time.

He held both wrists with one hand and tied them together with the other, the rope stinging her skin. She cried out unhappily.

But he chuckled, in a matter of factly kind of way. Stroking the burn gently as ge corrected her, "Should've behaved." And when done, he sat back. Observing her as she laid tied up, legs spread in front of him, and circled around his hips. Much to his dismay, he wouldn't be enjoying the sight as much as he wanted to. "It's late."

"Arthur. . ." She pleads, attempting to appeal to him, one last time.

He turns his head just enough to see her in his peripheral. "Get some sleep. You got a long day ahead of you tomorrow." He flashed his eyebrows smugly. "Night, sweetheart." Then exited the tent without another word.

She huffed, unbelievable.

Sweetheart. . . But how could she be annoyed when he called her such a thing. She dreamed herself away, with imagines of a shirtless Arthur Morgan and the feeling of him inside her. But she'd not given up, make no mistake, he would fall asleep and she would leave. . .

The night carried on and the temperature finally began dropping, a shiver shook her pleasantly. It was a welcome change. Her body strained as she raised her neck to get a look of the outside. Through the flap she saw Arthur, sitting, snoring, hat covering his face as he leaned back against the tree he'd previously been sitting on.

Now, she needed to get rid of her restraints. Rolling over, she crawled toward the opening, her eyes never leaving Mr Morgans sheathed knife.

The fire had been reduced to embers at this point. Crackling and sizzling lowly as the cool moisture in the air riddled the grass with dewdrops, dampening her hands and skirt as she approached her goal. She sat on her knees, then moved to grab the knife carefully, gnelty sliding it out. The sound of it unlatching nearly had her yelp.

No movement in Arthur.

Shallow breaths, she exhales. Relief flooding through her begoee she began working the knife against her entangled wrists with her fingertips. Carefully regarding the vicious man for any signs of waking. But her thoughts slid, perhaps, if he caught her, he would be kind. Or would he be angry? She could truly not decide werther which reaction she'd most prefer–

The rope snapped, and exhilaration filled her. Gaze snapping between her free hands and the hunter, imagining her prospects. She stood quietly, holding her skirt tightly around her to keep the fabrics from rustling. Slowly, knife still in hand, she backed away. On careful tiptoed steps she faded into the night, the fire dwindling in the distance.

The darkness made it hard for her to see much of anything, at its height the tree-crowns silhouette were visible against the blue summer sky. Branches moved, leaves swished in the gentle wind. She grew paranoid, head snapping in every direction, reacting to every little noise around–

A branch broke behind her, she jumped, turning around so fast she almost ripped– a Buck. She froze, a god damned buck? She had expected it ro be Arthur, but she seemed to have ogtten the better of him. The animal looked at her, ears twitching as it chewed on grass– suddenly hopping away. She sighed and turned back.

Only to collide with something hard. Her thoughts raced, she knew, she knew. She looked up, eyes tracing along his body until they met his, half hidden under his hat. Reflexes prepared her to run, but before she had as much as taken a step back, a hand grabbed her wrist and yanked her back to him. Again, she thumped into his strong chest. Held against him with the familiar iron grip, she fought, as usual; but to no avail, as usual. He snaked an arm around her waist to hinder her from breaking free, yet she kicked and punched violently with her free limbs. But it made no dent in the man. He couldn't even spare her a reaction as he half carried, half dragged her back into the low light of the burnt out fire. He spun her around and pushed her up against the cliff wall, grabbing the wrist closest to him and pinning it above her head. "I warned you, girl." He snarled, the look in his eyes doing just as good a of job pinning her to the wall as his hands. He reaches for the second–

When something sharp digs into the soft flesh of his throat, he froze. His chest was the only thing moving between the two of them, heaving breaths of annoyance.

"Thrid times the charm." She smirked.

He raised his eyebrows and chuckled, "That so?" His voice mocking, and before she could comprehend what had happened, he'd captured both wrists with one hand and slammed them above her head and into the wall. And the knife had appeared in his free hand, she noticed this because it was now held against her own throat. "Repeat that for me girl."

Her lips struck a thin line as she attempted a neutral expression, although fuming on the inside. She shrugged her shoulders, "No." Was all she said, but stubborn in tone.

He nodded, looking her up and down, studying the buttons on her blouse. "Ought to teach you a lesson sweetheart."

She cleared her throat, deciding that to act nonchalant was her best option. "Yeah? What ya' gunna do, huh? Ravage me?" She asked half joking, but still hoping there'd be some truth to it.

At this, the corner of his mouth turned up, a wicked grin developing on his lips. "I just might." He breathed, tracing the tip of the knife downward, along her collarbone and then along the front of her blouse, coming to a stop at the first button. She gulped, feeling the knife poke through the thin fabric against her chest, making goosebumps run amock in reaction and the pulse reheating in her core. He leaned forward, pushing his body against hers until there was no room left between them, his head hovering just above the crook of her neck. "May I do with you as I please?"

This was it, the sweet balance between a hardened outlaw and a tender gentleman. "Yes– yes, Arthur please." Her voice near a cry, it took everything in her to control her tone–

Her blouse ripped, from top to bottom he cut it open, and she wasn't wearing a brasier. Her chest laid bare before him, and he groaned happily at the sight.

With her go-ahead he wasted no time, he let go of her hands and cut her skirt too. Cutting a slit as far as he reached with the knife then threw it to the side, and the tore the rest. She gasped, every nerve in her body on edge. In an instant, his lips were upon hers. Hungry, hungry lips devouvered her as hands roamed her body, groping and grabbing wherever they got purchase. Her own hands greedily searching for a steady hold in his hair, she grabbed a fistful and pulled gently. He moaned at the feeling, such a beautiful sound. His hands slid over her breasts, squeezing them, then pushed the remains of her blouse off of her shoulders.

Except for her undergarments, she stood completley exposed for him. She could practically feel him salivating when he cupped her clothed mound, and finding her clit with expertise and rub it through the fabric.

She tore herself free from his kisses, she had to breathe. A deep gasp brought oxygen to ger lungs once again, allowing her to whimperand moan in equal measure as he worked her clit. The pressure made her knees week, she wriggled, attempting to rut against his hand. But she was too unsteady to make progress. Noticing her difficulties, his other hand slid behind her back and held her steady. Allowing her to chase her pleasure. And left with no lips to kiss, he latched onto her neck instead, to suck at her sweet spot.

She hummed appreciatively, unable to keep a big smile from her lips as pulses of pleasure washed through her. She slid her hands from his hair and unbuttoned his shirt, running her fingers along his strong chest and abdomen, gingerly feeling all of him as her hands worked themselves lower. Finally unbuttoning his pants. She did no longer have to wonder were his happy trail dissapeared too, she bit her lip. He was huge. She stuck her hand into his pants and stroked him eagerly. "Need ya' Arthur, please." She panted.

He let out a strained grunt against her shoulder, and his hand left her clit. She whined, but didn't have to stay displeased for long.

Both his hands slid down her sides, and she tried to breathe steadily, but it proved hard. The feeling of his calloused hands on her skin was too heavenly. Suddenly, he lifted her. Pinning her against the cliff wall with his arms and the weight of his body, allowing her to wrap her arms and legs around him. She hadn't known, but he had wordlessly obided her request. He pulled her garments to the side, and line himself up with her entrance. "Sure about this?" He asked, a final reassurance.

"Yes." She purred, no hesitation in her answer.

And so he pushed inside her, the sheer size of him was making her want to scream–

"Good girl." He moaned, and directed his eyes to hers. She repressed a moan, biting her lip hard to hinder it as heat flashed through her. It was two words, yet she could've come undone from them alone, when said by him alone.

He gazed upon her softly, one of his hands left her thigh to gently stroke a strand of hair from her face. She smiled, and so did he. He was just giving her time to adjust, but her heart soared at the simple gesture.

God how could she feel so strongly for a stranger?

Her hands retangled in his hair as Arthur slid out of her, she furrowed her brows– but in a rough, quick thrust. He shoved himself back inside of her, filling her to the brim. He set a cruelly pleasurable, unrelenting pace. Any trace of gentleness gone.

She felt the pressure tightening within her, building snd building until she was on the verge of coming once again. Her hands sunk to his back, clawing and scratching because she did not know what else to do, he was too much, too good, too big. He overstimulated her with his mere prescence. And he knew when her walls tightened around him, adding extra pressure onto his already throbbing member. "You close girl?" He grunted, his gruff voice breathed against her ear and his hand squeezing her thigh roughly beneath her. God it was sublime.

"Mhm. . . So- close.'" She murmurs, her words coming out jagged as her body rocks with Arthurs thrusts. Pushed closer to her release with each thrust, once again, she shut her eyes and spots speckled her eyelids. Breathing turns frantic, she could no longer tell who was who as they mixed, moans and curses spilling from them both.

With a flash of pleasure, searing hot it soured through her, making her whimper uncontrollably. His thrusts slow, holding her securely, caressing her face and kissing her lips as she rides out her high. "You're alright girl." He breathes reassuringly, "Well done Sweetheart."

Overstimulated tears roll from her eyes, "Oh Arthur, you sweet, sweet man." She sighs happily, and he comes a mere second later. His seed filling her and oozing out.

They'd clean themselves tomorrow, since tiredness plagued them currently. He backed away from the wall and she clung to him, desperatley not wanting to part with him.

He carried her back to the tent, this time not bothering to tie her up as they laid down facing eachother. Arthur, grabbed her chin between his index and forefinger. Studying her thuroughly before they finally succumbed to sleep. She could escape if she wanted to, he wouldn't stop her this time. Her plan had worked, they both knew it. But they felt something else too, and they both knew it.

Hooded eyes blinked, blushing at Arthurs intent eyes and searching gaze. Her eyelids weighed down by exhaustion, It'd been a long few days, and before she knew it–

The light dawns, rays of dusty sunlight shone through the flap of their tent as the morning wakes. Bringing warmer tempratures and calm birdsong.

He opens his eyes, and immediately meet hers. She'd just been admiring him. "Surprised?" She asked, biting her lip and stopping herself from reaching out to touch him.

He smiles, "Naw, I was hopin' I'd wake up to you girl."

[pretty-little-mind33]

James Potter x fem!reader

Summary: You're a stupid drunk and James Potter is very very bad at dealing with his romantic feelings.

Genre: Angst (happy ending), fluff, hurt and comfort (a little bit of everything honestly)

Warnings: jealous!james, stupid!james, swearing, screaming, arguments, crying, injuries, punching, blood, protective!James, protective!marauders, platonic!best friends!marauders, confessions, dangerous activities (reader puts herself in danger), mentions of dying

JAMES POTTER MASTERLIST

You look towards the ground and your ankle bends a little in your winter boots as you try to control your movements. The cherry liquor you had drank earlier lingers in your mouth and in your drunken haze, the tower you're currently balancing on feels secure as you move forwards and the onlookers below continue to cheer. 

"Please don't stay out too late," Remus warned you.

You blush, shaking some snow from your hair as you outstretch your arms for better balance, biting your lip. You look up at the sky, the stars prominent this evening.

"And don't drink too much," James reminded you with small smile. 

"We'll see you there," Sirius promised.

What the hell did they know? You pout, now staring down at the snow on the ground. They hadn't even shown up!

You hear someone call your name and you look down to see Arthur Brown, a Ravenclaw boy you'd been talking with at a party. He's handsome with a charming smile and as you wave to him, you almost fall over. 

Arthur just chuckles and encourages you to continue whatever nonsense and liquid courage inspired you to walk on the castle roof in the snow this late at night. 

"Y/n?" you hear Remus's strained shout and when you turn your head, you're surprised to see Remus, James, and Sirius rushing over. They aren't dressed for the cold weather and they look extremely shaken and confused. "Come down from there," Remus shouts. You wonder how they'd known.

Sirius looks pale and James is frantically looking around to find some way to help you down safely. He looks more distraught than the others and Sirius has to calm him.

Your eyebrows knit together. You're afraid James might make a scene. Only, why would he? You know he'd let Remus, Sirius, or Peter do this in a heart beat, and he'd find it funny.

Bloody hell, James would probably do it himself so why does he look so worried when it's you?

"Bugger off, she's fine," Arthur interrupts as you take another step. Your boots slip on the snow again but you laugh as you move your arms out further to catch yourself. "See, she's fine. So, stop being her little guard dogs for one second and let her live a little," he says with unnecessary venom. 

"What did you just say?" Sirius barks, grabbing Arthur's collar. He looks furious now. 

"Y/n, come down, please, honey," Remus calls, occasionally telling Sirius to drop it and to concentrate on you.

You frown as Arthur's teasing riles up your friends and the crowd underneath you. Wind swirls around you and you gasp, feeling suddenly even more unbalanced and you start to realize maybe this wasn't the smartest plan.

"You fuckin' prick, don't talk about her like that, you hear me?" James suddenly swears loudly. Because you hadn't been paying attention to the boys under you, when you hear James and look down at him, you see that he'd pushed Arthur into the snow and was pinning him down.

Alarmed by their shouts, you accidentally slip as you turn around to make sure James's is okay.  

You let out a shriek and all the students suddenly look up, seeming to remember your presence. Momentarily distracted by your scream, Arthur slams his elbow into James's cheekbone and sends him falling off him. Chaos ensues as everyone rushes to crowd around both you and James separately. 

Remus kneels next to you, his hand coming behind your head to support you up. You're clutching at your ankle as you wail uncontrollably from the way you had fallen onto the snow. With nimble fingers, Remus cuffs your jeans and sees how swollen your ankle looks. "Oh, honey, that looks like it hurts," he whispers and caresses your cheek with his knuckles. 

From next to you, Sirius and other students are standing around James; James, who has scrambled up from the ground. His nose is bleeding and the crimson liquid stains the snow as he curses at Arthur. Sirius is holding James up by his shoulders and he uses his hand to pinch James's nose as his best friend winces in pain. Arthur, who has a prominent bruise under his eye, is pulled away by his friends. 

"What happened here?" The low drone of the Headmaster, accompanied by an anxious looking Professor McGonagall, is heard and you all turn your heads around.

* * *

Around an hour later, as Madam Pomfrey takes the time to heal your ankle, a disheveled looking James sits on the bed opposite of yours. He's holding a handkerchief to his nose and Madam Pomfrey hasn't tended to his injury yet. To her defense, James still looks extremely pissed and you wouldn't want to approach him either. You won't have that same luxury as the moment Madam Pomfrey is gone, James is staring.  

"What were you thinking?" he whispers, his tone quipped. Still a little fuzzy from how drunk you'd been, you blink at him and shift uncomfortably. 

"What was I thinking? What were you thinking?" you counter, defensively.

"What?" James drops the handkerchief and glares. 

"Why would you jump Arthur like that?"

"Why the fuck do you care?" James hisses, his eyes narrowing. He's your best friend, he knows you hate it when he swears but that doesn't stop him now. "You're fucking reckless, you know? How could you have been so fucking stupid?"

You stare at James as your eyes water painfully. No coherent words form in your head. You're grateful for an escape when Remus and Sirius pile into the room. 

Sirius rushes to your side. "Aw, poor sweetness, does it hurt terribly?" his sentence dies when he sees your tears and he wraps an arm around you so you can hug him. "Y/n, what's wrong?" 

Remus, always more intuitive than Sirius, looks at James and sees James's furious expression. He frowns and quickly walks over to his best friend and holds onto his arm. James pushes him away and you see Remus whisper something in his ear. 

However, Sirius pulls your attention away from them as he wipes your tears with his thumb. 

"I am not!" Your attention is pulled again and you hear James shout as Remus shushes him.

You sniff, and look at Sirius. "James hates me," you say and Sirius's expression falls. He looks behind and sees Remus and James's shushed argument. He turns to you and holds your chin in his hand as his gaze softens. 

"James couldn't hate you even if he'd been cursed to," he says so simply.

You shake your head and bite your lip. "No, he's really mad…like really mad, Pads."

Sirius chuckles and sighs, "Oh sweetie, James isn't really mad at you. He's mad at himself. Merlin, you should have seen him when he first saw you on that roof, the poor bloke looked about ready to faint." 

Sirius continues and turns to Remus and James only to see they've moved further away from you and Sirius, and James looks like he could burst into tears at any moment, "Jamie is madly in love with you, Y/n. Just the possibility of you and another guy makes him go absolutely bonkers. And listen, if he hadn't hit Arthur like he did, I don't know if you would have fallen, doll. James knows that too and he's simply mad with guilt."

You try to concentrate on Sirius's entire story but your mind stays stuck at the words; "James? In love with me?" 

Sirius's lips curl in amusement but he doesn't have the time to answer because he hears Remus shout an exasperated; "Prongs!" as James, his nose still very much broken and bloody, storms out of the Hospital Wing without a second word. Your chest tightens as you watch him and if you could, you'd run after him.

* * *

James has been avoiding you. Or more accurately, he's been avoiding everyone for the last three days. He's never in the common room anymore and he has evening detentions with Professor McGonagall so you don't see him at all outside of classes. Remus, Sirius, and Peter all tell you he's been quiet in their dorm too and that they don't know what's happened with him either. 

Remus won't tell anyone what he spoke to James about that night in the Hospital Wing.

By the fourth day of complete silence, you've had enough. You manage to catch James on his way to detention. You speed walk over to him and cut his path, spinning around to look at him. You gasp when you see him. His face is bruised and his lip is split. "James!" you gasp and stop him. James's brown eyes narrow and he looks angry. 

"Get out of my way, Y/n," he hisses as his fists clench. 

"What happened?" you insist. His burises look horrible, and you think that he hadn't got his broken nose healed properly since he'd stormed out of the Hospital Wing. Why handn't the boys told you James looked like this?

"Are you a bloody insane? What he fuck happened?" your voice comes out stern and James pauses at your curse word, his frustrated expression faltering for a moment. 

"What?"

You hold onto his sleeve and push him into the nearest girls lavatory. James almost trips as you make him lean against the sink. His eyes widen when you pull out your wand and firmly grasp his chin in your hands. You ignore his whinning as you point your wand at his wounds. "Episky—shush be still," you mutter sternly as you heal all of his wounds. "What is wrong with you, James Potter? Tell me who you've been tousling with this instant!"

James scrunches his nose and touches where his wounds had been. He leans away from you. "Nobody," he says, his voice high so you know he's lying. 

"James," you warn. You move away and shove your wand in your cloak. "Please, tell me."

James has never been able to deny you a thing, even at times like this. "Fine, just don't lose your head over it, bird," you scowl at the nickname with an eye roll. "Brown keeps pushing my buttons, is all," he says. 

"Arthur? The same boy who broke your nose?"

"Yeah, that little fucker, I'm pretty sure he's in love with you—or he has some weird obsession because he can't keep your name out of his fucking mouth," James suddenly pinches his nose and shuts his eyes, "Shi-sorry I keep curing, I know you don't like it when we curse." 

Almost like he's sulking, James leans against the sink and stares at you. He doesn't speak. 

"You're such a wanker," you mumble and look at him more closely, "Why are you acting like such a prick since that night?"

"Oh, since the night you almost fucking died?" James raises his eyebrows, his tone sarcastic and you ignore the curse word again. 

"Horrible exaggeration considering all I did was break my ankle."

"Could have been your neck," James deadpans. 

"Well, it wasn't my neck and that's certainly no excuse to be a such a prat," you say seriously. James considers your words and sighs. He runs a hand through his shaggy hair and looks away. 

"What do you want me to say?" he asks. 

You stare at him like he's absolutely mental. "That you're sorry?"

James laughs and you swear you've never met a boy as stubborn as he is. "Why would I be sorry?"

"Are you serious, James?" you whisper and press your finger accusingly on his chest, "Listen to me, I know I shouldn't have been on that roof, that's my mistake, but you know damn well I wouldn't have been on that roof if you'd all come with me to the party like you'd promised!" your voice comes out rushed, "And I wouldn't have fallen if you didn't have to knock down Arthur Brown and make me worried for you!"

James's cheeks are flaming. "You think I, out of everyone, don't know that?" he says, straightening up and moving closer to you, his voice harsh, "do you think I don't lay awake at night, going absolutely insane over every possible scenario that prevents you from falling?" James's voice cracks and he steps forwards again. 

You look up at him, slightly breathless. For someone so angry, James looks undeniably handsome. "I know we should have gone to the party with you, but Merlin, I couldn't bear another one! Another party I would have had to spend watching other boys fawn all over you! Fuck, Y/n, how could I have known you would decide take a drunken nightly stroll on a roof because we hadn't shown up!"

You listen to him, eyes wide, "You don't like it when boys fawn over me?" you whisper. 

James frowns. He bites his lip and squeezes his eyes closed. "Of course I don't," he says, as if it was the most normal thing in the world. 

"Why?" 

"Because you should be mine," James's voice is smaller now, less authoritative, less angry. 

You stare at him and take in his expression with an inhale of breath. "But, James, I am yours."

James shakes his head quickly and tugs at his curls. "No, no. You aren't mine. You're ours. Sirius, Remus, Peter—you're our best friend. And I was okay with that, until I wasn't anymore and now everytime Arthur Brown says he wants to kiss your lips all I want is to punch something." James's fists clench and he looks away from you. 

"You're scaring me," you look at him, whispering honestly but you don't move away from him.

James looks down and this time he looks really remorseful, "I'm sorry, Y/n, I don't meant to scare you. I—"

"So, Sirius was right," you inquire, taking his sudden remorse as a widow for a civilized conversation. 

"Sirius was right about what?" 

"You're in love with me," you don't say it as a question, more like a statement and James's eyes round so wide you're almost afraid they'll pop out of his skull.

James tries to escape but as he backs away, he bumps into the sink and his heart sinks. His eyes are moving so rapidly around the room and his cheeks have turned a less aggressive crimson and into a more lovesick pink. 

"Why does everyone keep telling me that?" he mumbles to himself, feeling warmth on his cheek. 

"What?"

James rubs at his nape and looks less angry and more nervous. You smile. You had been right to strike this conversation now. "Moony, in the Hospital Wing. He said I loved you—which was why I was acting like a prick and I don't," he backtracks immediately, "I mean, I love you as a friend and n-nothing more."  

You expected to feel pain at the rejection but instead, you laugh. You stare at James and laugh harder. So hard, you clutch your sides and James's eyebrows crease with worry as you hyperventilate in front of him. 

"Because you should be mine," you repeat his words through your laughter, "That's what you said and now you want me to believe you aren't in love with me?!"

"What?!" James's crimson cheeks have returned and he sounds annoyed now, "I- listen, sorry to disappoint but I-I am not in love with you!"

"You aren't?" you look at him, your eyes flickering to his lips. 

"No!"

"Then why do you want me to be yours? What does that mean, hmm, James?"

You walk a little closer and your arms rest on the sink behind him. You ignore the way your heart is pounding your chest and screaming at you as you stand so close to him. James is staring down as you look up at him through your lashes. You expect another protest, maybe another incoherent defense, but instead he mumbles, "Fuck it," under his breath and takes your cheeks in his hands as he kisses you. 

Without a second thought, you kiss him back. Your hand tangles in his hair as you press your lips to his. It's almost animalistic the way James is kissing you and it only lasts a few seconds before he's disconnecting your lips and resting his forehead onto yours. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry," he pants, shaking his head, "I shouldn't have kissed you without asking you—"

     "Oh, shut up," you grumble and kiss him again. He accepts the kiss and spins you around. He uses his arm to hoist you onto the sink and deepen the kiss. You hold onto him and wince when your hip accidentally hits the faucet. James pulls away and looks at you like he can't believe what just happened. 

"Okay, so maybe I am in love with you," he finally admits and his chest is heaving from all the emotions. 

You crack a smile, "I'm in love with you too, James," you admit and touch his cheek. "Only, you can't act like a prick to me when you can't deal with your emotions. You should have told me all these feelings instead of sulking like a child." 

James nods and squeezes his eyes shut, "I was just so angry at myself," he whispers.

"I know, Sirius said that was the reason."

James chuckles with a roll of his eyes, "How does Sirius suddenly know my emotions better than I do? He's usually the emotional wreck!" 

You adjust his glasses a little, "He's just observant," you say, "and you're stubborn."

James pulls you in, holding you close to him as he dips and kisses your neck. He hums against your skin and whispers, "I'm such a fool, can you forgive me?" he asks, basically pleads, "I'm just, I was jealous."

You laugh, "Oh, I know. But, James, you know you have no reason to be jealous of anyone."

James whines and looks at you with his famous doe eyes; "I have every reason to be jealous. I'm jealous of the way Peter laughs at your jokes, or how Remus bonds over books with you. I'm jealous of Sirius and how he makes you laugh, and I'm jealous of every boy that looks your way. And worst of all, I'm jealous of the sun because it shines on you every day and I can't," he sounds like a lovesick idiot. He's barely making sense. 

You look at him seriously, "James. You are the sun. You're my sun." 

James looks into your eyes and bats his eyelashes innocently. He says, "So, you forgive me for being a wanker?" It's obvious he wants to make you laugh and he succeeds as you chuckle and playfully and lightly swat his cheek. 

"I'll forgive you," you say, "for now."

James pouts but he also lifts you and spins you around. He drops you on the ground, his hands at your hips and kisses your forehead. "I'll take it, love. Now, let's tell our friends we aren't mad at each other anymore."

"I was never really mad with you," you point out with a snort as James takes your hand. 

James squints, and looks behind his shoulder at you. "Yeah, you were," he says but when you shake your head he decides not to argue with you and just smiles, "Okay, fine, then let's go tell our friends I'm not being a baby anymore."

"Much better," you beam with a giggle and James realizes with a hopeless smile that he wants to be the only reason you ever giggle like that again. 

Merlin, he really is madly in love with you.

[lostwords-found]

OHHH, I just thought of something.

It's been bugging me that Norris, Chester, and Augustus started speaking around a year ago, and I've been wondering about the significance of that timing. At first I thought maybe it was some consequence of whatever RedCanary stumbled into at the Magnus Institute, because that was a bit over a year and a half ago--we know from the case numbering system that the episodes are taking place in the present day (episode 2 was taking place on Jan 18 2024; note for my fellow US folks that the dates are the UK standard with day first, not month). And from the dates on the forum posts, RedCanary's series of unfortunate events was in April 2022.

BUT based on their case numbers, which give the date the case's events happened even if that's not said in the episode, all the incidents Sam has looked at so far were from mid 2022. They're not perfectly grouped together; the dolls and Arthur and RedCanary were all April through May 2022, while Daria's therapy appointment was September--that last one's a bit of a jump, but it could have happened depending on how cases are being allotted among the various workers. But they're all close enough that it's a plausible assumption, I think, that FR3-D1 is generally finding these things roughly as they're posted and then adding them into people's queues for review. This would mean they're at a current backlog of around a year and a half. (Looking at you, Gwen...)

If that's the case, and if the OIAR's workers have been maintaining a roughly constant rate, then around a year ago they would probably have been reviewing a lot of cases that FR3-D1 found in early to mid-2021. Which means they'd have been opening files that have been sitting in their database untouched since that time.

MAG200 aired on March 25, 2021.

Whether Chester and Norris are a Ushanka'd JMart, or something resulting purely from Annabelle Caine's manipulation of their voices, or something else entirely... l don't know. But I am betting that they didn't start as part of the system, like Colin thinks they did. I think there was some direct consequence of MAG200's events which led to them being embedded in a post that FR3-D1 scraped up, and that they simply weren't activated and "let loose" until some unknowing office worker clicked on their file.

[vivwritesfics]

Ink

Monaco Tattoo Parlour might be one of the most famous studios in the world. Famed for its incredible work and incredibly attractive artist. Appointment are booked a year in advance. But Charles Leclerc is worth it

Viv's AUgust Event

(Banner by @nurse-floyd )

Sucking in a breath, she walked into the Monaco Tattoo Parlour. A little studio in Italy. There was only one artist, one chair in the studio. The artist was world renowned; people travelled from all over to have him ink their skin.

His art decorated the walls. God, he was talented, but she knew that already. From all of the hours spent scrolling through his social media as she waited to get an appointment with him.

"Can I help you?" Asked the receptionist. His baby brother, she knew from the shops social media. His accent wasn't Italian, but that was because they'd moved over here from Monaco.

Her smile was polite, a little nervous as she approached the front desk. "I've got an appointment with Charles," she said and gave him her name.

He searched through his laptop for a moment before pulling a few bits of paper from the desk drawers. "Fill these out and Charles will be right over," he said and gestured to the seating area.

She sat down and began filling out the paper. As she did, she looked at the flash on the walls. It was all beautiful, all done by Charles Leclerc.

She handed the filled out paperwork back to his brother and sat back in her seat. She'd get any number of these tattoos on her body. Fifteen minutes later, Charles Leclerc called her over to his chair.

He was perfectly polite as he showed her the designs. She told him where she wanted the delicate, flowery pattern and he placed the stencil against his skin. It took a couple of tries before the placement was exactly where she wanted it.

Charles laid her on her side. He pulled on his clear gloves and began tattooing.

He worked mostly in silence, humming to himself. She was fully aware of the nimble fingers working on inking her skin, at the beautiful way he moved.

He was beautiful. Too beautiful to be a tattoo artist. He could have been a model, but here he was, giving the world his art. "Your flash is gorgeous," she said through shuddering breaths as he tattooed over her ribs. It hurt, but it didn't exactly feel bad.

"Thank you," he said, his concentration still on the tattoo. It was turning out beautiful, just as all of his work did. "Is this your first?"

"Yeah," she answered and Charles let out a whistle.

"This is interesting placement for a first tattoo," he said through a chuckle.

She tried to laugh along with him. "Next one will be a piece of cake, right?" She asked and he let out another chuckle. It was a melodic sound, one that filled the room, make it seem lighter, somehow.

There was a reason the shop had such good reviews.

When she asked for a break, for some water, Charles happily gave it to her. He slightly rolled up his sleeve, revealing half of the tattoos snaking up his arms. "Who did your tattoos?" She found herself asking as she laid back down.

After stalking his Instagram for the last few months, there weren't many questions she had. She knew everything she needed, everything but this.

There was a beat of silence, a long pause in which the tattoo gun came to life. For a moment she was worried, afraid that she had offended him. But then he spoke. "An old friend," he answered, sighing through his nostrils. "An old friend did them for me."

"Must be nice," she mumbled. She tried to keep her body still, to not jolt when the machine touched her skin. "Having somebody you trust permanently alter your skin."

It was over much quicker than she wanted it to be. The tattoo process was enjoyable, as was being around Charles. He placed the second skin on the flowers dancing down her rib cage and walked with her over to Arthur's desk.

Charles effectively pushed his little brother out of the way. He told her the price and held out the card reader for her to pay.

"What do you say, have I got a customer for life?" He asked, wearing a cheeky smile as she pressed the buttons on the card reader.

A slight laugh left her lips. "What does that include? Coming back to Italy every time I want a tattoo?" She asked as she pulled her card from the machine and placed it back in her purse.

He couldn't hide his grin as he placed the card machine down and grabbed a piece of paper with care instructions on it. The fact that he had one printed up in her language showed just how diverse his clientele was.

"Trust me, chérie, I'm worth it," he said as she shoved the aftercare sheet into her bag.

Her smile was shy, almost bashful as she tried to meet the eye of the handsome tattoo artist. "Trust me, Charles," she mimicked, nails drumming against the reception desk. "I know."

[shanastoryteller]

Happy holidays Shana! Time travel Ygraine or de Bois Aurther please?

a continuation of 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8

Arthur de Bois had seemed nice enough, for a noble. He'd prevented blood from being spilled and hadn't beat anyone, had even been courteous to those who had spent the night with him in the blacksmith's house, if they're to be believed, and Hunith doesn't know why they'd lie.

She doesn't count paying their tax or overhauling their infrastructure in her assessment, because if they're successful Ealdor will turn a tidy profit for him. If they're not successful, then she imagines that Arthur will make them pay in other ways. Nice or not, gold is gold, and nobles know their first loyalty is to the king and their second is to their pockets.

Then Arthur had taken her son and the only emotion Hunith had known was fear.

Merlin's magic is fierce and powerful, too much for his body and leaking out around him, and that's before his clumsiness and luck that seems to run from bad to cursed. Either he keeps his magic to himself and gets beheaded for incompetence or he reveals himself and is conscripted into using his powers for the palace, a fate almost worse than death.

When Arthur returns to check their progress, he brings her son.

Merlin is riding his own horse behind Arthur and the pale, dark haired woman he's arguing with. Merlin and Elyan are riding next to each other, trading eye rolls and egging the argument between the nobles along whenever it lulls.

Hunith can't breathe suddenly due to the weight on her chest.

Merlin is sitting tall and easy, an unselfconscious grin on his face while he talks with nobles, and whatever Elyan is, not servant and not a lord. His clothes are clean and new, nothing patched up or thinning. He's filled out in the months since she's seen him, not the frightful skinniness that seemed to follow him no matter how much food she crammed into him.

He looks happy.

[sinofwriting]

Lost then Found - Charles Leclerc/Reader/Max Verstappen, Logan Sargeant/Reader

Words: 4,549 Summary: Charles and Max are together and she needs to move on, get over them before her feelings get any bigger and harder to handle.

Note(s): Partial SMAU. No part two will be written

Masterlist | Support Me! | Part of Sin's 5k & B-Day Celebration

This was far more difficult than it should be, she couldn’t help but think.

When Max and Charles had told her that they were together, she knew that the days of being a trio were over. She had made her peace with it as soon as the next day had rolled around and she had let herself cry, because it hurt more than she expected seeing the two people she liked so much being in love with each other. She knew that they’d want time alone, time to go out on dates, to just spend time with each other, without other people, without her.

So, she retreated. Started texting to ask if she could come over to Max’s or Charles’, double checking that they still wanted her to come over when they asked, knocking on front doors instead of just letting herself in like before. She nearly gave back her keys to both their places, but kept them. They’d give them to her in case of emergencies, it just so happened that they then urged her to use them to just let herself in at any time. She did however take back her own spare keys, slipping it off of their key rings when they were distracted. The one going back in her safe in her bedroom, the other going to Arthur, who thankfully hadn’t asked questions just kissed her on the forehead with a murmured breath of idiots before threading their arms together and making her walk with him around Maranello.

She had figured it would be easy to fall away from them, that they’d like the time to be together just them. But she’s still getting invited to come over for random lunches and dinners. For movie night whether it’s over discord when she hasn’t joined them at a race or in Max’s living room or Charles' hotel room.

It hurts to say no to those offerings, to not say yes every time they offer, but it also hurts to see them together and she can’t be around them as often as she used to with her feelings so large for them and hopefully not apparent.

So, she asks for Arthur’s help. She loves them, yes, but she isn’t in love with them. And that means the world of difference, because she can get over them, will get over them.

Her feet are in his lap as they scroll through her tiktok that’s displayed on her TV. It makes her miss the F2 weekends, the races she always attends, just to tag along with Arthur. To support him, and how always the night before the feature race no matter how much Max or Charles will plead, she’ll go to his hotel room and they’d do the same thing. Scrolling through her tiktok, either laughing or scoffing at what’s shown.

She curls her toes gently into his thigh, laughing at the slight hiss he gives. “How are your toes so cold?” She shrugs, wiggling them a bit before he puts a blanket over them, setting his hand on top of the blanket where her toes are underneath. “Why is your hand so warm?” “Do you really want to know?” She makes a face at him and he does the same back and they both break into giggles.

“I was wondering,” “Oh?” He looks away from the TV, eyes focusing on her. “If the offer to set me up with someone was still on the table.” His eyebrows are raised. “But what about,” “They are together, happy and in love. I’m happy with being their friend, but to be a better friend I need to get over my feelings before it hurts them or their relationship and that is the last thing I want.”

She means it as well. She is happy for Charles and Max even if she hadn’t thought that they'd get over themselves and admit that they felt something for each other. It also helps that the distance has helped with the hurt she feels seeing them. It’s more bittersweet than anything to see them so happy together.

He looks at her for a few seconds before nodding. “Of course. Paul is interested.” Her eyes go wide. “Paul is a child!” “He’s nineteen, that’s not a child.” Arthur denies. “And I’m twenty-three, same as you. I don't want to rob the cradle so to speak.” “Okay, no one that young.”

She watches as he thinks about it before smirking at her. “Ya know, Pierre and Kika have talked of having a third.” She scowls at him. “Maybe someone single and who isn’t best friends with Max or Charles.” “Fine.” he chuckles. “You know I only know people in motorsports, though. They will know them.” “I’m aware, Thur.” She gently prods his thigh. “Now, give me a name or two.” “Logan.” She feels blood rush to her face and looks away from her best friend at the sound of his name and Arthur’s eyes narrow.

“What is that about?” He reaches forward to poke at her temple that’s now facing him. “I may have slept with him.” “No.” He’s shaking his head when she looks at him again. “When?” “Last year at Abu Dhabi before his Williams testing.” She tells him, laughing when he gently hits her calves. “And you never told me?” “It happened one time!” She defends herself. “And we both agreed not to really talk about it.” He shakes his head, “Unbelievable. Do you want me to set you up? Give you his number?” Her eyebrows raise at Arthur having his number as she thinks about it.

She liked Logan, maybe not entirely like that, but she couldn’t deny that she was attracted to him. He was sweet, funny and earnest. She could see herself having a good time with Logan even if it didn’t end up being a relationship that lasted forever or went too serious. Afterall she had a good time with him the last time they saw each other.

“Yeah, I’d like his number.”

—

Arthur didn’t know how he had ended up in the house of the enemy (it was said enemy offering him to use his sim) but he was already regretting that he came over, especially with his brother being over as well and the fact that the enemy, or now two enemies wouldn’t let him use the sim.

“What is wrong with her?” “Nothing is wrong.” He repeats, feeling bored of their worries about Y/N. It was stupid that they thought he’d be this relaxed if something was wrong with her, she was his best friend after all, despite what Max and Charles liked to think. “Really? Because we haven’t seen her in a week, a week Arthur! We have been home.” He shrugs, “I don’t know. I saw her just today.” “So, she’s at home.” “No.” Arthur looks around the living space of Max’s place, eyebrows raising at the grand piano that now resides by some of his trophies. “I drove her to Nice, this morning.” “Nice?” Max eyebrows are furrowed. “She never goes to Nice.” Arthur shrugs, leaning back in his seat and taking out of his phone, swiping through his messages. “She has a date.” “She has a what!?” Arthur has to hide his smirk as the two Formula 1 drivers yell. “I’ve been trying to set her up with someone for awhile now. She finally said yes.” “With who?”

—

“This was really nice.” She smiles up at Logan, liking how she has to tilt her head up a bit to look at him with how they’re standing. “I had a really good time.” There’s a hand now resting on her waist and she shudders at the touch, at how Logan is looking at her, at how this whole day had gone. It had been so long since she went on a date, she had forgotten how much she enjoyed it.

“Maybe next time we could do this in London?” He grins at her, “Really?” “It wouldn’t be fair if only you were flying.” She pauses, “I need a bit of notice, but I could also do Florida.” His smile and eyes soften. “I’d like that. I’m going back for Christmas until the fourth of January. But maybe if our next date,” Her smile widens at the words next date, the quiet but sure confidence in them. “Goes well, you could fly down on the third and we do a little road trip, explore some of America.” “I’ve never been before.” “I mean, I’ve only really been to places for racing other than Florida.” “So, you’ve only been to Florida.” He laughs but nods, “yeah, only to Florida.” “I’d like that. Just tell me how much time you want to spend there and I’ll use my vacation days up.” “You don’t want to wait until our next date?” “I don’t think I do. Do you?” She asks, stepping closer. “No.” He murmurs and then he’s bending, their lips just separated. “I don’t think you do.”

—

She’s brimming with excitement when she gets to Arthur’s place. Her fingers keep brushing over her lips and cheeks where Logan had kissed her. Her mind keeps replaying his words, his laugh, the little sigh he gave when she kissed him again before they parted ways.

She doesn’t bother knocking on Arthur’s door, he had told her that if she wasn’t going to let him pick her back up that’d he keep the door unlocked for her so she could come straight to him after her date.

“Thur.” She calls, setting her purse down on the kitchen counter. “I’m back, all safe and sound.” She rounds the kitchen counter, opening his fridge and stealing a beer before making her way to the living room and plopping down on his couch. Pulling her phone out of her pocket, she can’t help but remember how excited Logan had gotten when he realized that her dress had pockets. The fresh memory, barely seven hours old, has her grinning again.

“So, it went well?” She looks up and sees Arthur standing in the entry of the living room, a beer in one hand while his other is taking a towel to his hair, explaining his silence. “It did. In a few days, I’m gonna fly to London, spend the day with him.” “It went really well.” He sits beside her, eyeing her. “You seem excited.” “I am.” She laughs. “It was just, it was so nice, Thur. And at first I thought maybe it was just going on a date, but on the way here, I think it was not only that but it was him.” He looks at her and wonders why he ever thought there was a possibility of her being in love with Max and Charles, not just liking them as she claimed, when after one date with Logan she looked like this.

—

“We’ve missed you.” Charles murmurs, holding her tight to him, Max has his arms around the both of them. “Where have you been?” He asks, pulling away to gently touch her face, to run his thumb under the dark circles that aren’t as prominent as they usually are. “I’ve been busy.” She tells him, squeezing Max’s arm that’s still wrapped around her before stepping away from the both of them. “Work always gets weird in December.” Max frowns, “Just work?” Her eyebrows furrow, “Not just work. But mainly.” “We’ve been home for over a week and this the first time we’ve seen you is all.” Charles smooths out the slight tension. “Usually we see you on our first day back and when we swung by your place you were never home, never made plans to see us, never just dropped in.” She smiles at Charles and he feels his heartbeat quicken at the sight. Max’s smile did the same thing to his heart as well.

“How has being home been? How are my loves?” She asks and then there’s two cats winding around her ankles and she’s bending to pet and coo at them. “Hello my loves! Look at you both, so pretty and handsome.” Max huffs out a laugh. “I swear you love them more than us.” “Oh absolutely.” She laughs. “Jimmy and Sassy are far better than you two. Huh babies?” She directs the last part to the cats who let her give them one more pet before darting away.

“How have you two been?” She asks when they all sit down in the living room, the three of them all on the large couch that Max’s living room holds. “We’ve been good.” Charles smiles, eyes lighting as he thinks of the past week that had been pretty much just him and Max. It had nearly been perfect, so close. Max nods. “I’m very happy Brad isn’t my trainer anymore, he’d have a heart attack if he saw what was in the fridge.” She laughs, whole face brightening. “You always do this in December though and it’s not as if you stop your training. It will be weird not seeing Brad.” “Rupert will be an adjustment.” The Dutchman sends Charles a look. “He won’t ever be in Monaco other than the GP. Not when Andrea is willing to work with me as well. We both know that Rupert is just to save face mostly.” “And to have a trainer with you in Red Bull.” Charles pouts at the two of them. “I don’t like this.” Max and her both share a look before laughing and she wraps an arm around Charles, giving him a side hug. “The poor baby.” She coos. He flushes at the word baby, nearly shuddering at the idea, the sound of both Max and her calling him baby at the same time.

“What have you been up to?” Max redirects, easily taking the focus off of Charles as his poor boyfriend takes a moment to compose himself. “Work mostly.” She gives a tired sigh. “Thankfully though I’ve only got another week and then I’m off until January twentieth.” Both of their eyebrows raise. “The twentieth? But you usually go back on the second or fifth.” “I have a bunch of vacation saved up. I want to use some of it to bring in the new year, start it off stress free, or as stress free as I can get.” “They still won’t let you go fully remote?” Max asks, frowning. She shakes her head. “No. Which is ridiculous considering that I’m allowed to go with you guys for race weekends and such as long as I do my work remotely. I mean, I’m already doing so much of it at home.” She shakes her head again and the smile that had been on her face is gone, whole face covered in stress. “Have you given any thought to leaving?” Charles is careful as he broaches the topic. He knows how much she loves the company she works for, despite them not allowing her to go fully remote. “A little.” Max rests his hand on her knee, giving it a squeeze seeing her sad smile.

Charles, seeing the smile and the touch on the knee from Max, nudges her lightly. “We should go somewhere, the three of us. Right after the new year. Go to Bali, Malta, or Greece again.”

Greece had been amazing when they went, just before Max and him had kissed for the first time. Getting to see both of them enjoying the water and sun, skin all on display as she chased them around with sunscreen. The tipsy nights in the living room of where they were staying, furniture pushed back as they danced around, pressed all up against each other.

“Right after the new year?” Charles nods and Max joins him, also remembering Greece. “It would be fun. Another trip just the three of us.” “I have plans right after the new year.” Both of their eyebrows furrow. “Plans?” Charles asks. Her eyes drift to her lap for a second. “Yeah. I started seeing someone and we agreed to do a roadtrip. I’m gonna fly out on the third to meet him.” “Oh.” “Is it serious? Between you two?” She smiles at Max, “I don’t know yet. It’s still early.”

—

“I’m not telling you. It is none of your business.” Arthur tells Charles, a frown on his face. “Arthur,” “No.” He doesn’t bother lowering his voice like Charles has, obviously not wanting Lorenzo or Maman to hear him. “C’mon Arthur. What if he doesn’t treat her right? Hurts her?” His jaw twitches, lips thinning. “You really think that? That I’d set her up with someone that might hurt her? She’s my best friend, Charles. I wouldn’t do that.” “Do what?” Lorenzo asks, as he and Maman join them at the table again, Charles’ face having softened, an apology on the tip of his tongue. “Y/N started seeing someone. I set her up. Charles wants to know who.” “Charles.” Maman scolds and he ducks his head. “I just,” he stops, struggling. “Max and I didn't think that she’d start seeing someone. We thought we’d have time.” Lorenzo's face looks a lot like Arthur thinks his face looks like. “You have to be joking.” “What?” “Charles, you and Max are lovely together. We are happy for you. But you got together knowing that you also wanted her in the relationship as well, but you never did anything about it. It’s been six months and you still haven’t done anything. You can’t begrudge her for finding some happiness.” “No.” Charles shakes his head. “Never.” He glances at the faces of his family. “We know that we may be too late. We just want to make sure she is treated well, right. Is taken care of and is happy. Max and I love her, we want the best for her.” “Arthur wouldn’t set her up with someone he thought would make her unhappy.” “I know.”

—

“Logan!” She squeals as he picks her up, his chest dripping with water pressed against her back. “Put me down!” She laughs. He laughs as well and does put her down, but quickly spins her around, the two now chest to chest. “That better?” She loops her arms around his neck, nodding. ”Much better.” Tilting her head she presses their lips together, humming when he presses her somehow even closer.

—

yourusername

Liked by charlesleclerc, arthurleclerc, maxverstappen1 and 2778 others yourusername: Florida, you have treated me so well and I couldn’t think of a better place to start the roadtrip off, though it does pain me to leave. First stop is New Orleans! (and until next time Miami, I miss you already)

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charlesleclerc: Looks beautiful user1: You look so pretty!!! And that water! arthurleclerc: Did he not tell you about other things in Florida? ⤷ yourusername: but the beach Thur, the beach! user2: Ooh a boy user3: Charles commented!!!

yourusername

Liked by paularon, maxverstappen1, charlesleclerc and 1521 others yourusername: New Orleans! Beignets are a must now and I will be attempting to learn to make them as soon as I’m back home (along with gumbo, oh my god). Thank you for buying me about a hundred beignets in two days and coffee!

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maxverstappen1: Will you share? ⤷yourusername: of course, Max! user4: Love that bar! user5: Where’s your next stop? ⤷yourusername: our next stop is Dallas/Fort Worth! user6: Beignets are so good, I don’t blame you for eating nearly a 100

yourusername

Liked by arthurleclerc, maxverstappen1, charlesleclerc and 3028 others yourusername: When in Texas, cowboys hats are a must! (though they make kissing a bit difficult) We both had only been to the Austin area, so getting to see a bit of Dallas and Fort Worth was lovely (not pictured me crying from happiness as I pet a horse and my boyfriend laughing at me) Next stop is Phoenix, Arizona

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arthurleclerc: I’m going to need that picture ⤷yourusername: Not happening user7: I know we talk about the girlfriend effect, but can we talk about the boyf effect??? My girl seems to be glowing ⤷user8: for real! Whoever he is, he is treating her good charlesleclerc: I am familiar with that part of Texas ⤷yourusername: Definitely user9: Every post makes my dreams of the lestappeny/n throuple die ⤷user10: THEY ARE JUST FRIENDS! ⤷user9: girl, tell that to Max and Charles

—

“Boyfriend?” Her eyebrows furrow at the weird tone in Charles’ voice. “What?” “Your instagram post. You call him your boyfriend.” It’s weird for Max to be the one clarifying. It’s always Charles between the two to do it. “Yeah. I mean that happened in Florida. Right after I got off the plane he asked me.” She smiles at the memory of the candy in his hands, the little anklet with the letter L on it that he gave her in the car. “And he is good to you?” “Yes. He’s the best, Cha.” “Maybe we can meet him when you get back? Before the season starts.” She glances at Logan, who is talking on the phone, his free hand gesturing. “Do you want me to invite Arthur as well?” “No.” Charles’ answer is swift as is Max’s. “If you trust him, we can trust him.” She smiles, eyes crinkling when Logan winks at her. “Of course. We’ll be in Monaco in a week and half for a few days before he goes back to London. Let me know when you're free, yes?” “We will look. Be safe.” “Wear lots of sunscreen!” “I will!”

—

yourusername

Liked by jensonbutton, maxverstappen1, joristrouche and 1023 others yourusername: Thank you to the random person for taking our photo and I promise we didn’t just look at cacti while in Arizona. Time for our next and last stop California!

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user11: Your welcome! You and your bf were real sweet! ⤷yourusername: Too kind! jensonbutton: You two up for some babysitting? ⤷yourusername: Jenson… you better not be joking about getting to watch the baby buttons ⤷jensonbutton: I would never arthurleclerc: I just know he touched a cactus user12: Every day we get closer to finding out who she’s soft launching

yourusername

Liked by maxverstappen1, charlesleclerc, logansargeant and 2,064 others yourusername: California! The last state on this trip! It’s been fun and hopefully next year we can do another road trip and explore some other states (perhaps in a few years have all 50 checked off).

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user13: I didn’t realize that they had been together for so long user14: Is that Laguna Seca? ⤷yourusername: It is! user15: Race track!!! arthurleclerc: Can’t believe he got you to go karting user16: The club vibes in the last photo

brittnybutton

Liked by yourusername, jensonbutton, jamesharveyblair and 3,218 others brittnybutton: Thank you yourusername and boyfriend for watching the kiddos! Loved having you stay with us for the two days.

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yourusername: Thank you for letting us! jensonbutton: Well behaved bunch they were user17: Brittny is helping her soft launch… I can’t user18: yourusername would be such a good mom user19: parents

—

“Max! Charles!” Her voice is bright, smile wide and Max swallows thickly, wrapping his arms around her. “You look good.” He tells her, pressing his lips to the top of her head before letting her go, Charles eagerly swooping in to hug her.

She’s glowing, Max thinks as he watches Charles and her hug. His boyfriend murmuring some compliment or complaint in her ear as he gently sways her. He doesn’t think he’s ever seen her this happy before. It hurts but is also relieving to see.

“Where is your boyfriend?” Max asks when Charles finally lets her go. She smiles at Max as they all sit down at the table, a spread of food and drinks already laid out, plates and silverware in front of them. “He’s changing.” “Do we get to know his name? Or will we,” Charles starts to ask but his voice dies in his throat making Max look at him in concern before following his gaze and understanding fills him. “Logan, hi.” The Williams driver smiles at them, sitting in the empty chair next to Y/N. “Hey guys.” Max watches as she beams at Logan, her whole face just brightening before she looks at them, a sorry smile on her face. “I should’ve told you both sooner, who it was, but I didn’t know how.” He shakes his head. “No, it’s okay. We are just shocked is all.” “Very.” Charles agrees. “Arthur set you two up?” Max squeezes Charles’ hand, intertwining their fingers together. “Yeah. I was a little shocked getting the message from him, didn’t even know he still had my number.” Logan laughs. “But he asked if I was interested, I was, so two days later I flew to France for our first day.”

“You two look happy.” She smiles at Charles before looking at Logan. “We are.” “And Jenson knew about it?” Max asks, remembering Jenson’s comments about babysitting and then his wife’s post. Logan blushes and she laughs. “Yeah, Jenson’s really been helping me out since July and I told him after she booked her tickets to Florida.” “That’s good. It’s always nice to have a grid dad, no?” Logan flushes even more as Max laughs. “Just because Seb treated you like a child does not mean we all need to have a grid dad.” “But, Lance had Checo, Oscar has Mark, you had Fernando.” “I didn’t have Fernando.” “You had Fernando.” She agrees with Charles. “He was the only driver not talking shit about you, Fernando was all about your chaos. He’s your grid dad.” Max pouts but it’s quickly chased away by a kiss to the cheek from Charles that makes him grin.

—

yourusername

Liked by logansargeant, williamsracing, and arthurleclerc and 4274 others Tagged: logansargeant yourusername: Who knew a date in Nice would turn into this? Hoping for many more months (and years) with you.

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logansargeant: Happy 3 months baby! user20: 3 months??? user21: wdym they’ve only been together 3 months user22: She’s dating Logan? Crying user23: omg mom gave us a dad and it’s america man

@teti-menchon0604 @eugene-emt-roe @rewmuslupin @copper-boom @stopeatread @crashingwavesofeuphoria @namgification @racingheartsposts @gothgirlez @kimmib13 @fanboyluvr @darleneslane @ironspdy @eutrizbea @asphalstead @poppyflower-22 @skepvids @elliegrey2803 @hiireadstuff @tallrock35 @casperlikej

[whereforarthur]

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

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

Summary: 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.

Category: SMUT

Word Count: 6.7k

A/n: ArthurTv and Arthur Hill will be labeled as such to avoid confusion

*****

“In ‘friends with benefits,’ the boundaries are blurred, and the possibilities are endless.”

"Alright, guys," Arthur Hill grinned, his eyes sparkling as he wriggled to adjust the bow tie around his neck. "She asked for a surprise, so let's not disappoint her.".

The cool London evening was abuzz with the sound of laughter from a distance and passing cars humming their way along the road, in total contrast to the quietly expectant mood of the apartment in dim light. Five British YouTubers had gathered together for what they thought was an innocent prank on one of their fans. Little did they know, the girl they'd invited had something entirely different in mind.

This had been the moment Y/N had been waiting for, and she, being the young lady who loved drama, had planned this meeting very carefully. She took a deep breath as the door creaked, at that sudden surge of excitement rushing in her body. She'd chosen Arthur, Isaac, ArthurTV, Chris, and George for their online personas specifically; each one part of a puzzle she knew would fit into her twisted game.

The five men filed in; the laughter died down as they took in the scene before them. Y/N was sprawled out on the bed, her needy curves barely contained in a see-through lingerie set. She'd gone all out, setting up candles and a sultry playlist of tunes to set the mood; it definitely set the ambiance for the events to take place tonight. The air was heady with the scent of jasmine and vanilla, much like a perfume.

Isaac's eyes nearly popped out of his head as he drank in the scene. "Bloody hell," he whispered under his breath, his cheeks flushing red. ArthurTV, ever the charmer, strode forward with a smirk. "Well, well, well—what do we have here? Our lovely Y/N, all dolled up to kill. Occasion?"

On cue, Y/n's eyes scanned the men gathered before her, locking eyes with each for a second or two before she spoke in that low, sultry voice, "Gentlemen, I've been a very, very naughty girl, and I need all five of you to help me make it right."

The tension in the room was palpable as the men exchanged glances; a mix of shock and excitement was written across the faces of the men. Normally much more contained, Chris stepped backward and widened his eyes. "I think we might have misconstrued the invite," he stammered.

But Y/N's gaze stuck to them, her expression no doubt filled with hungry longing. "Oh, I think you've understood perfectly," she purred, beckoning them closer with a crook of her finger. "You see, I've had the most delicious fantasy about all of you, and I've decided it's high time I make it real."

The four looked at one another, not knowing exactly what the next course of action should be. George took the lead, his curiosity running deep. "Alright, lass, what's the plan?" he asked, the corner of his mouth curled into a smirk.

Y/N slid off the bed, the sway of her hips hypnotic as she made her way toward them. She reached out and put a hand on George's chest, tracing her fingers over the lines of his muscles. "The plan," she breathed, "is simple. You each get to do whatever you want with me. No holds barred."

The room hushed, except for the soft crackling of the candles. Arthur Hill, in his group of friends, the seasoned veteran when it came to wild nights out, stepped forward. "Alright, love," he started in a deep, gruff voice, "but let's make sure we're on the same page here."

Y/N nodded, the predatory glint in her eye. "Agreed," she purred lowly as her hand slid down to George's belt. "But remember, this is all for fun, and we all get what we want." She leaned in closer, her hot breath against his ear. "But you'll have to work for it."

Isaaс, who was standing by the door, swаllоwed hard, trying to wrap his head around all the implications of all this. He had never gotten himself into such a situation, but his desires forbade him to bаck away. He stepped forward very slоwly while his eyes brutally raked Y/N's bоdy. "Cоunt me in," he said, the thick desire hoarse in his voice.

The other three men looked at each other wordless, their eyes a dead give-away of disbelief, excitement, and perhaps a tinge of fear. They knew it could get out of hand, but the temptation was far too great to resist. These men had all watched her videos and heard her flirty comments, and she now stood before them, offering herself up like a prize to be shared.

Chris broke the silence first. "Alright, if we're all in, then let's get this party started," he said, attempting to sound cool, but in reality, his heart was racing wildly. The tension in that room increased, with them all stepping closer to her, their eyes devouring every inch of exposed skin.

Y/N eyed them each in turn, a smirk dancing on her lips. "Strip," she commanded, firmness laced in her voice. There was an infinitesimal hesitation before the men began to strip off their clothes, fumbling with buttons and zippers. The room started to heat up as clothing hit the floor, and their eager arousal became evident.

Chris was the oldest in the circle and went ahead first. He stared into Y/N's eyes, clasped her around the waist, yanking her into a desperate kiss, drawing out the air from her. His hands roamed over her body, cupping and squeezing her breasts and ass as she melted into him. The rest watched, their desires building as they took in the view of their friend claiming her first.

ArthurTV was quick of wit, silver of tongue-next. He leaned in with a smirk, hands sliding up her thighs. "I got a surprise for you," he murmured, his fingers finding the wetness collected between her legs. He slipped a finger inside her, and she moaned into Chris's mouth. Isaac and George, the remaining two, sat down and watched as excitement took them; their cocks stiffened in anticipation.

Y/N pushed Chris away, panting, before turning to ArthurTV. "That all you got?" she teased, beckoning him on. He gave a dark chuckle and leaned in to kiss her neck, his teeth grazing the sensitive skin there. "Oh, I got lots more," he assured her, guiding her towards the bed.

The others didn't waste any more time; each was out to have his piece of her. Isaac was by no means shy anymore, stepped up, and claimed her mouth. His tongue danced with hers in a passionate duel as George and Arthur Hill looked at her, starving, hands mapping every curve, every dip, with possessive strokes.

Chris stepped back, eyes dark with the desire to have watched his friends touch her. He knew sooner or later he would have to regain control, but for now, he enjoyed the show, his cock pulsing with every gasp and moan escaping Y/N's lips.

Isaac leaned forward, and his hands moved to her breasts, gently kneading them before pinching her nipples. She arched her back, pushing into his touch, her eyes fluttering closed in the upsurge of pleasure that filled the room with the symphony of heavy breathing and whispered words of lust.

Arthur Hill forward, his eyes dark with hunger as he reached for her hips to spin her around, pressing against the edge of the bed. He exhaled, "Your turn," as he pried her legs apart. The tongue traced a path from her ankle down into her inner thigh, skin goosebumping from the heat of his breath.

Y/N's legs quaked, her body shuddering, as Arthur's lips reached her sex, his tongue doing a delicious dance around her clitoral area. A moan escaped her lips, her body already betraying her as it reacted to the onslaught of sensations. ArthurTV looked on with a smug smile on his face, stroking his cock while he waited for his turn. "Looks like she's enjoying herself," he said with a quip—he got a glare for it from Arthur Hill.

Chris couldn't wait any longer and moved in behind Arthur Hill, his cock pressed up against her backside. He leaned in close, his hot breath against her ear. "Ready for more?" he breathed as she nodded, her breathing shallow gasps. He reached around, one hand playing with her clitoral area while Arthur Hill's tongue continued its relentless assault. It was almost too much to handle, and an orgasm began building low in her belly.

George and Isaac watched, their cocks bobbing gently in the candlelight as they took in the erotic scene unfolding in front of them. He stepped up, his hand reaching out to cup one of her breasts, his thumb brushing against the hardened nipple. "I want a taste," he murmured, and she leaned back, granting him access. His mouth closed over her breast, sucking and teasing as she writhed under the combined efforts of the two men.

Isaac's face was red, his eyes covered with a hood of desire as he kneeled beside Arthur Hill. He watched intently as Arthur's tongue delved into her wetness, her legs trembling with every stroke that danced across. "Please," she whimpered, and with a wicked grin, Isaac leaned in, his mouth joining Arthur's in a duel of tongues and lips.

The feeling of having two mouths on her was almost too much for Y/N to bear. She bucked her hips, her moans rising louder as they worked in tandem, bringing her closer and closer to the edge. Her eyes rolled back in her head, and she grasped at fistfuls of the bedsheets, trying desperately to anchor herself against reality. The room spun with pleasure; the heat of their bodies wrapped her up in a cocoon of lust.

ArthurTV, not content to just stand and watch any longer, stepped forward, his cock at full attention. Standing over her, he stroked it slowly, his eyes watching the contraction of her face. "Open up, love," he said, and she took him immediately in her mouth, her tongue swirling around his shaft as the taste of him was intoxicating; she wanted more.

Chris and Arthur Hill didn't miss a single beat, their hands and mouths working in harmony to drive her closer to the edge. Y/N's eyes rolled back as the pressure began to build, her body tightening around Arthur's tongue as he continued to lick her. She felt the heat of George's breath as he leaned into the side of her neck, his teeth nibbling gently at her earlobe.

Isaac and ArthurTV watched their own desires come to a boiling point at the sight of their friend sans restraint in their passion. They exchanged a look, both keen to take their turn. Y/N felt a hand at her waist, gently lifting her onto the bed. She looked up to see George smiling down at her, his eyes filled with lust. "My turn," he whispered, and she parted her thighs in all eagerness and invited him inside.

He positioned himself between her thighs, his cock throbbing in anticipation. He leaned in to kiss her, his tongue plunging deep as he plunged into her with a single, powerful stroke. She moaned into his mouth, her body already primed and ready for more. He began to move, hips pumping in a steady rhythm that had her death-gripping the sheets.

Chris dove in to take Arthur Hill's place, his cock immediately being sucked into her mouth as she greedily sucked him, never taking her eyes off George fucking her. The room was a cacophony of passion: moans and groans, skin slapping skin. The air was heavy with the smell of sex and sweat; the flickering candlelight cast an intimate, warm glow over it all.

Isaac watched, his hand going to stroke his own cock as he took in the sight of his friend claiming her. Desire was bright in George's eyes, raw need etched into every line of his face. He knew it was only a matter of time before he had to take his place, but for now, he enjoyed watching the woman he had fantasized about being taken by his best mates.

Y/N's eyes fluttered closed as George thrust harder. Her body was a symphony of pleasure, each touch and kiss sending shockwaves through her. She could feel the beginnings of another orgasm building, pressure coiling in her core. "Fuck me harder," she begged, her voice hoarse with need.

George obeyed, becoming more and more erratic as his climax neared. Arthur Hill and Isaac watched as they stroked their own cocks, their stroking in time with George's thrusts as the room spun into a blur of flesh and desire, their attention only for the woman writhing on the bed in front of them.

Chris pulled from her mouth, panting, and took his place next to ArthurTV. They watched together as George brought Y/N to the edge, her back arched and her nails digging into the mattress. With a final, guttural groan, George emptied himself inside her, shuddering with the force of his release. He collapsed beside her, pure satisfaction etched on his face.

Y/N panted and blushed, gazing up at the remaining two. "Who's next?" she purred, full of seduction. ArthurTV stepped forward, cock in hand. Wasting no time, he filled her, his movements fast and sure as he claimed her mouth once more. She moaned around his shaft, her tongue swirling around him as he started to fuck her with the same fervor as the rest.

Isaac kneeled beside her, his cock rigid, the youngest and most anxious. Without reservation or hesitation, she took him all in, her hand clasping his base as she took him deep into her throat. His eyes rolled back in his head, and he groaned loudly, purely in pleasure. "So good," he muttered, his hand burying in her hair, guiding her motions.

The room became a tornado of lust and desire, each man taking their turn to claim her, their movements becoming frenzied with every successive moment. The bed creaked in protest—the headboard slammed against the wall with every thrust. Y/N moaned even louder, her body a canvas of pleasure painted by the hands and cocks of the men she lured into her web.

Isaac's eyes didn't leave hers as he face-fucked her, his hand clenching in her hair at every gagging noise she made. She could feel the veins in his cock twitching, his orgasm imminent. The feel of his impending release spiraled her own climax closer, her body tensing in anticipation. ArthurTV's hips snapped against her own, his cock plunging deep to hit that spot that made her toes curl.

Her eyes watered, fighting for breath around Isaac's cock, but she didn't pull away; instead, she took him deeper, and her throat muscles worked around him. The feeling of being used, being taken by all five of them, was more intoxicating than any drink she'd ever had—it felt as if she'd been waiting for this moment her whole life.

Chris stroked his cock as he watched, his own desire reaching a peak added to by the sight of their pleasure. He climbed onto the bed, kneeling beside her, and slid into her from behind. The feel of being filled so completely was almost too much to bear as she gasped. The men had become a well-oiled machine, synchronized in their movements as they brought her closer and closer to the edge of oblivion.

Her gaze never wavered from ArthurTV's as the tension between them became palpable, the rising heat of Chris's orgasm evident to her. ArthurTV stroked faster, his breathing shallow, until with a final grunt, he was spurting into her, his cum mingling with George's and coating her insides.

Isaac's eyes rolled back as he came, his semen spurting onto her face and chest. Greedily, she lapped at the taste of him. Arthur Hill, never one to look a gift horse in the mouth, took this for his cue, sliding in as the others pulled out. He moved with a rhythm all his own, and she was aware of the bedbouncing her body beneath his powerful thrusts.

She lay with her legs wide, her body open to them like a feast, and they took full advantage. ArthurTV leaned in, kissing her neck and whispering dirty things in her ear as his hands roamed her body and Arthur Hill pounded into her. A moan escaped her throat, which was muffled by Arthur's cock, as her hips arced toward each thrust.

"You like that, don't you, Slut?" Arthur Hill growled in his low voice gruffly. "You like being filled by all of us?" Y/N could only nod, the look in her eyes crazed with lust. "Say it," he demanded, his grip on her hips tightening. "Say you're our little slut."

She complied, her voice a breathy whisper. "I'm your slut," she moaned, the words sending a shiver down her spine. The dirty talk only seemed to heighten her arousal, wetting her further and making her more eager for their attention. ArthurTV leaned in, his teeth grazing her earlobe. "You're such a good girl, taking all of us," he murmured, his voice sweet in contrast to Arthur Hill's harshness.

"Fuck me, fill me," she begged, her voice little more than a whisper above the slapping of their hips. The men became more aggressive with each word, their own dirty remarks egging her on further. "You're so tight," Arthur Hill grunted, his strokes becoming more erratic. "So fucking tight."

"Yeah, take it all," ArthurTV whispered, his fingers digging into her hips. "You're made for this, aren't you? Made to be used by us." The raw words sent another wave of heat through her, pussycats clenching around Arthur Hill's cock as another orgasm threatened to break free. Tension pulled tight inside her body, higher and tighter with each thrust.

"Tell us how much you love it," Chris said, eyes dark with lust, as he watched Arthur Hill fuck her. "Tell us how much you love having all five of us inside you." Y/N whimpered, words choking from her in a moan. "I love it," she gasped, her voice raw with passion. "I love being your slutty."

Grunts and curses from the men rose in volume, their movements wilder still at the words. Arthur Hill's thrusts became more powerful yet, his cock slamming into her with enough force to make her eyes water. "That's it," he groaned, strained. "Tell us how much you want us to fill you up."

Y/N's cheeks were flushed, hair a wild mess around her face as she moaned and begged for more. "I want it," she panted. "I want all of your cum inside me." The filthy talk spurred Arthur Hill on, his hips working harder and faster, driving her closer to the edge. She could feel the tension rise, her body clenching around him.

"That's right," ArthurTV muttered hotly in her ear. "You're going to take it all, aren't you?" He reached down to play with her clitoral area, his thumb circling the sensitive nub while Arthur Hill's cock pummeled her pussycat. The combination was exquisite, taking her spiraling toward the abyss of pleasure.

"Oh, fuck," she moaned, the words barely intelligible. "I want it, I need it." She arched her back, her body begging for more. The men took her words as a challenge, their movements becoming savage as each of them worked to be the one to tip her over the edge.

"You're ours," Arthur Hill grunted, his teeth clamping with effort. "Our little fuck toy." Y/N's eyes rolled into the back of her head, the degradations adding to her excitement. "Yes," she whimpered, the word tumbling from her lips in a needy plea. "I'm yours; do whatever you want with me."

The words seemed to unleash something feral in the men. Their movements became more primal, and they talked dirty to her, voices hazing into a symphony of lust and dominance. "You're going to scream for us," ArthurTV muttered, his thumb rubbing harder against her clitter. "Scream our names as we make you come."

Y/N's eyes snapped open and locked with Arthur Hill's searing gaze. "You're going to come for us," he said, the timbre low, a command. "You're going to come so hard, you won't be able to walk straight tomorrow." The heat rose higher and higher, her pussycat clenching around his cock with each word.

"You're so fucking hot," ArthurTV breathed, his thumb still working her clitter in circles. "The way you're taking all of us, like the little slut you are." The insult only seemed to turn her on more, and her body responded to their every demand. She could feel Arthur Hill's cock swelling inside her, his orgasm approaching.

"Please," she begged, her voice barely above a whisper. "Make me come." It hung in the air, a desperate plea for release. The men laughed, enjoying the power they held over her. "Not yet," Arthur Hill said, his voice low. "First, you're going to make me come."

He grabbed her hips, slamming her onto her back as his cock never left her body. Hunched over, he nipped at her neck, fucking harder. Y/N's legs wrapped around his waist, her nails digging into his back as she tried to get closer, feel him deeper. The pleasure was so strong it was almost painful—a delicious agony she never wanted to end.

"You like it rough, don't you, Slut?" Arthur Hill's voice was a snarl in her ear as his teeth nipped at her lobe. "You like it when we treat you like the whore you are." She moaned, the words only serving to fuel her desire. "Yes," she breathed, her voice a mix of pleasure and submission. "I love it."

"That's right," ArthurTV added, his hand still buried in her hair. "You're a dirty little slut, and we're going to use you until you can't take anymore." Y/N's eyes rolled back as the pleasure built inside her with each thrust. "Use me," she begged, her hips rising to meet Arthur Hill's. "I'm here for you."

Chris, unable to wait a moment longer, slid back into her mouth, his cock slick with her saliva. She sucked him in hungrily, her eyes never leaving Arthur Hill's as he fucked her hard, his intensity bordering on violence. The other two men watched, their strokes growing quicker as they watched their friend claim her.

"You're doing so well," Arthur Hill praised her, his voice strained with effort. "Such a good little slut, taking all of us." Y/N moaned around Chris's cock, the dirty talk sending her closer to the edge. She could feel Arthur Hill's cock swelling inside her, his orgasm approaching like a freight train.

ArthurTV whispered into her ear, "You're going to take it all," his hand playing with her clitter, "every drop of our cum." His words sent a shiver down her spine; the anticipation of their collective release was almost too much to handle. She nodded, looking at them pleadingly for them to give her what she needed.

"Yes," she breathed, her voice husky with longing. "I want it all." Arthur Hill clutched her hips harder as his thrusts grew wilder, closer to orgasm. "You're going to make me cum so hard," he growled, boring his eyes into hers.

"That's it," ArthurTV encouraged, his voice a seductive purr. "Tell us how much you love being our little slutty." Y/N's body was a maelstrom of sensation, her pussycle clenching around Arthur Hill's cock as she felt the beginnings of her own orgasm. "I love it," she moaned, her voice raw. "I love being your slutty."

The words sounded like the last straw that broke Arthur Hill's patience. Roaring, he emptied into her, his cock pulsating with the force of his release. Y/N's eyes would widen as she felt the warmth of his cum fill her up, the sensation making her tip over the edge. Her body began spasm after spasm; her orgasm ripped through her like lightening, convulsing her entire body.

Chris watched her, his own climax imminent. He pulled out of her mouth and painted her face with his seed, his hot cum mixing with the sweat that already coated her skin. She moaned, the feeling of his hot semen on her face sending her into another wave of pleasure. The other two men watched, their own climaxes close behind.

Arthur Hill withdrew, puffing heavily, and rolled off the bed onto his back, his chest heaving rapidly up and down. George was into his place in one smooth action without missing a beat, his cock slipping into her still-shuddering pussy. Much softer than the others, his thrusts were smooth and sweet, as if savoring the moment. "You're so beautiful," he whispered, his eyes for hers alone. "So perfect."

The feeling that hit Y/n was a weird mix of satisfaction, awe, and a hint of fear. These men took her to heights she had never known were out there, but it was still not enough. Her body had been a playground to them, and she couldn't help but let them do whatever they wanted with it.

George began to stroke, his actions slow and deliberative. He leaned further forward now, pressing his lips against hers in a deep, passionate kiss as he buried himself to the hilt inside her. She felt the warmth of Arthur Hill's cum leaking from her, mingling with her own juices. It was a deliciously wicked sensation, a reminder of the depraved act they'd all just enjoyed.

Isaac and ArthurTV watched with hungry eyes, the cocks still rock-hard as they waited their turn. They stroked themselves all the time, their eyes never leaving this erotic dance playing in front of them. The room was a symphony of passion—the wet slap of skin and the ragged breathing of participants were the only sounds.

Every time he thrust, Y/N would feel George's cock reach that spot, and shivers of pleasure would run down her spine. Her legs wrapped around his waist, tugging him closer and deeper. She could feel another orgasm building, her pussycat clenching down on him like a fist. "Don't stop," she begged, her voice a desperate whine. "Don't ever stop."

Isaac and ArthurTV watched, their own arousal boiling over. Neither could stand to wait anymore. "Let me have a taste," Isaac whispered, his voice thick with want. George chuckled, pulled out, and flipped her over onto her stomach. "Be my guest," he said, slapping her ass as she moaned into the pillow.

Isaac positioned himself behind her and at the sight of his cock so slick with pre-cum. He slid into her tight, used pussy with ease, the wetness of the previous men's cum easing his way. Y/N's moans grew louder as he began to move, his hips slapping against her ass. "So good," he groaned, his hand tightening in her hair. "You're so fucking tight."

Her body was a live wire, jolts of pleasure running through her with every touch. The room spun, narrowing the world down to the sensations in her body from the cocks inside her and the hands touching her. "Harder," she begged, her voice muffled by the pillow. "I need it harder."

ArthurTV took her mouth again, his cock sliding in and out of her lips as she moaned around him. She could feel the tension in his body; his orgasm was just out of reach. "You're going to make me cum," he whispered, his voice strained. "You're going to make me fill your mouth with my cum."

The words brought a new wave of arousal to her as her pussycat clamped onto Isaac's cock. She sucked harder at him, her tongue working his shaft while he continued to fuck her mouth. The taste of the other men's cum remained prevalent, reminding her of the degradative journey on which she had set out.

Chris and Arthur Hill watched, their cocks already growing once again hard. They had never seen a thing so erotic, so primal. The thought of their friends taking her, using her body for their own pleasure, was just too much for them. They leaned forward, touching her, their hands wandering over her body as they whispered filthy words into her ears.

"You're doing so well," Arthur Hill whispered, his soft tone a stark contrast to the coarseness of the others. "You're taking us all so beautifully." His hand moved to her clitoral area, his fingers teasing the sensitive flesh as he watched Isaac fuck her from behind.

The combination was too much for Y/N to handle. Her body is a maelstrom of sensation, pleasure so high that it's almost painful. She felt ArthurTV's cock swell in her mouth; his orgasm was near. "Swallow it," he said, his voice thick with lust. She nodded, wanting to please him, and took him deep into her throat as he came.

Isaac's movements became frantic as his cock slid in and out of her with wet, sloppy sounds. She could feel his orgasm building, his cock pulsing with every stroke. "I'm going to cum," he grunted, his voice barely above a whisper. "I'm going to fill you up."

Y/N's body tensed, and her pussycat clamped down on him, the beginnings of her third orgasm already washing over her. She screwed her eyes shut, her body shaking with the force of it. "Do it," she begged, the words a desperate plea. "Cum inside me."

With a roar, Isaac emptied himself into her, his cum joining the rest inside her. She felt his warmth fill her, and the sensation sent her spiraling into another orgasm. Her body spasmed, her pussycat contracting around his cock, as she screamed into the pillow.

Limbs were tangled, sighs were sated, and the room was thick with sex. Y/N was lying on the bed, her body shaking with aftershocks of pleasure. The men pulled out—their cocks covered in her juices—and fell around her, their breathing heavy with exertion.

There was only the sound of their hearts beating as one, the quiet whispers of their breathing filtering through the air. The candles danced around them, their shadows veering across them through flushed and sweat-slickened bodies. They had taken her, used her, claimed her as their own, and she had loved every second of it.

The men lay sprawled around her, their eyes glazed over with satisfaction. Their chests rose and fell with deep, contented sighs, their cocks now at rest, having spent their seed inside her welcoming warmth. It was in the aftermath of a primal dance wherein desire had knitted them together—a palpable thread forged in the fire of passion.

Her mind was a mess, her body humming with the aftershocks of pleasure. She couldn't believe she just did this—that she let herself be used by all five of them. But she didn't feel used; she felt powerful and desired. Each thrust, each groan of pleasure, was a declaration of her sexual prowess, and she reveled in it.

Arthur Hill's gentle strokes on her clitoral had been like a sweet caress, a tender reminder of his dominance amidst the frenzy. His words in her ear were soothing and challenging, pushing her closer to the edge with every syllable. The way he looked at her when he came, as if she was all that mattered in this world, had been heady.

His hands on her breasts had branded her, marking her as theirs. She felt the heat of his gaze even when he wasn't touching her, his eyes devouring every inch of her. The way he'd whispered dirty words in her ear had made her feel like the most desired woman alive. It was like a paint of his cum on her face, leaving a part of himself with her, claiming her in the most primal possible way.

George's gentle touch had belied the others; his kisses on her neck and breasts were as light as butterfly wings. His patience was a sweet reprieve, his tenderness a gentle reminder that beneath the chaos, there was a person with feelings and desires. Whispers of praise had been balm to her soul, soothing the beast that had been loosed within her.

The dominance of ArthurTV had been oddly alluring; the way he took her mouth, his cock claiming her like a conquering force, thrilled her. She'd never felt so powerless, so completely consumed by another's pleasure, and she found that she enjoyed it. His smirk as he watched her cum for him, his own release imminent, had been the final push she needed to let go, to fully embrace the slut they had all turned her into. Isaac's raw need had been undeniable. His eyes were wild with lust, his touch almost desperate as he claimed her from behind. His gruffness, the whispered dirty words in her ear, had made her feel so much like a prized possession. The painful sting of his brutal treatment of her hair, mixed with the extreme pleasure of feeling his cock fill her up, had brought out something in her she never knew existed. She likes it—the way he uses her, the way he makes her feel like some dirty little secret.

Lying amidst a circle of men, faces upwards, panting and spent, she could not help but feel triumphant. She did what she wanted to do and had taken all five of them. She did not waste a single moment, enjoying every bit of it. Her body was sticky from sweat and cum, telling of the carnality of their session. The bed beneath her was a tangled mess of rumpled sheets and discarded clothes, a battleground of pleasure.

The soft candlelight bathed the room in its gentle glow, casting flickering shadows on the walls. The air was heavy with the scent of sex, a heady perfume that seemed to cling to her skin. She felt odd, nearly at peace, her body sated but her mind racing with the memories of what had just transpired. What now, she wondered? Would they all just lie in this bed, basking in the afterglow of their depraved act? Or would they find themselves once again thrown into the battle, eager for more of what so willingly she had given to them?

Chris was the first to move, his hand tracing a lazy pattern across her back as he leaned in to press a soft, gentle kiss against her neck. "That was," he started, his voice trailing off as he struggled to find his words. "Amazing," Y/N supplied, her voice still husky from screams torn from her throat. He chuckled, low and warm. "Yeah," he agreed. "It really was."

The tension in the room began to break as the others stirred, their sated bodies moving lazily against the tangled sheets. Arthur Hill propped himself up on one elbow, his gaze sweeping over her form. "You're something else," he murmured, a hint of awe in his voice. She couldn't help but preen under his praise; her cheeks hued with a mix of pride and embarrassment. "Thank you," she whispered, trying to find some further words and coming up empty.

Chris leaned down, his hand staying on the small of her back, and pressed a kiss against her cheek. "You're incredible," he said, gravitas in his tone. "We'll have to do this again." At just the threat of it, a thrill ran through her, excitement already building for another encounter with these men. "Definitely," she agreed, the smirk dancing around her lips.

The others stirred, starting to wake sated. Arthur Hill leaned in, slanting his mouth over hers in a bruising kiss. His tongue slid against hers, tasting the last remnants of passion they'd shared. "I never get enough of you," he muttered, his voice heavy with lust. "Me neither," she whispered.

They shifted, their bodies resettling around her. It was clear that the night was really nowhere near over, as desire still gleamed brightly in their eyes. "What now?" Y/N asked, her voice imbibed with a mix of excitement and trepidation. "Now," Arthur Hill said, a roguish smile playing on his lips, "we make this a regular thing."

The idea of becoming their friends with benefits was exhilarating and terrifying. The thought of the five men she had just met, having unlimited access to her body, sent a thrill down her spine. But she couldn't run from the pull—the raw, primeval need they had awakened in her.

"We'll take good care of you," George assured her, his voice a husky purr of seduction. "You can always be our little slut to come to whenever you need it." And strangely enough, the thought of being the girl they ran to whenever they needed their sexual fix was reassuring in some odd way. It wasn't love, no, but it was something. It was passion and desire, raw and unfiltered.

ArthurTV chuckled, his hand stroking her thigh. "And we'll make sure you're always satisfied," he said, eyes gleaming mischievous. "You never have to beg for it again." The promise sent a thrill through her—the idea of having them at beck and call all the time was incredibly arousing.

Isaac leaned in, his already starting to harden again. "But for now," he said, his voice a gruff whisper, "I think we need to clean up." He slid off the bed, his cock glistening with mixed juices. "And then," he winked, "maybe round two?"

The others laughed; the spark of mischief danced in their eyes. Y/N couldn't help but feel the thrill of it, her body already begging for more. They helped her off the bed, the stickiness of the cum between her legs making her wobble just a little. Arthur Hill caught her, his arms strong and steady around her waist. "Let's get you cleaned up," he murmured, leading her to the bathroom.

The warm water from the shower washed away the remnants of their encounter, embracing them with steam as they stood under the spray. The men took turns soaping her body, their gentle touches standing in stark contrast to the ferocity of their actions earlier. They were attentive to make sure she was clean and pampered; it touched her in a way she did not expect. It was as if they were reassuring her that, in spite of them taking her so thoroughly, she was very special.

They emerged from the shower, bodies shining and renewed. The bed was made afresh, with new candles in place and a bottle of champagne chilling on the bedside. "To us," ArthurTV toasted, his eyes locking with hers as he clinked his glass to hers. The bubbly liquid slid down her throat, the sweetness just right against the saltiness of their sweat and cum still in her mouth.

They lay entangled with each other in the clean sheets, their laughter filling the room thick with the odor of sex, sweet with this new bond. They talked and laughed, sharing stories and getting to know one another outside of the bedroom. It was a moment of companionship that she hadn't anticipated—a moment of happiness that she knew she would treasure.

What remained of the night had been a blur of hot kisses and soft touches, the odd bout of sex interrupting their talking. But what really stayed in her mind was the tenderness: the manner in which they had regarded her, the manner in which they had made her feel. This was a night she knew she'd never forget, one that changed her in ways she was only just beginning to fathom.

When morning finally broke, the men held her close, their arms wrapped warmly around her in protection and longing. Whispering sweet nothings into her ears, warm breath sent heat to her skin. There was a promise of times yet to come—a heady mix of excitement and anticipation left hanging in the air. Y/N closed her eyes, feeling more content than she had in a long time. For now, she had finally found a place she fit, molded in the arms of those five men who so thoroughly claimed her.

That night, they had spent reliving their story of how they met, but the story that was going to be truly theirs was only just now beginning, and as morning light spread over London, casting its golden rays over tangled limbs, Y/N knew she knew exactly where to find home. She was theirs, and happy to be so. The five of them had found that special something that superseded physicality: love. As they drifted to sleep, their hearts beating in unison, she knew she had found her place in life—the most unlikely of places.

*****

Taglist~

@gvf23 @xxkatxgracexx @amz824 @kneelforloki

[lady0ctavia]

What They'd Do for a First Date (Axis, Allies, & Nordics)

Something very quick because I just really wanted to get this idea out there. Also, I'm spending more and more time on my 2p!Prussia x Reader fic, but I wanted to make sure the rest of y'all are being fed.

So here are my headcanons on where I think a large chunk of the Hetalia boys would do for a first date!

Italy: While Feliciano's down for pretty much anything, he'd want to make sure the first date is something special. As such, he'd plan a nice, romantic dinner for the two of you where he cooks the food.

Germany: Ludwig would want to have the date at his house where you'd bake something together. He'd rather make either cake or bread. But he'd be open to hearing your ideas on what the two of you can bake.

Japan: I can see Kiku taking you to a painting class. Nothing super fancy or advanced, but something small, simple, and fun. Something where the two of you can delve into your creative side.

Prussia: Gilbert would 100% take you to the movies. He'd be down for seeing whatever you wanted to see, though he's more partial to action/adventure films. However, he wouldn't be opposed to horror, as he likes the idea of you getting scared and holding onto him.

Romano: Lovino will take you on a long walk around Rome sightseeing. He'd be pointing out every last bit of architecture you see and would recite a full history of everything. He's also the kind of guy to wanna take you on a boat ride.

America: Two words; amusement park. Alfred will absolutely take you to an amusement park or a state fair where you'd eat all kinds of fried foods, go on all of the rides, and, if it's a state fair, take you to the petting zoo. He'd also stress over planning the perfect kiss at the top of the Ferris wheel where the two of you'd watch the fireworks.

England: A first date with Arthur would be at a bookstore similar to that of Barnes and Noble. He'd want to look at different books with you and then chat about them over a cup of tea at an adjoining cafe.

France: I know it's kinda cliche at this point, but Francis would bring you to a fancy restaurant for a romantic, candle-lit dinner. Preferably in an area of the restaurant that is somewhat secluded. Hey, if it ain't broke don't fix it!

Russia: Ivan would simply want to go for a walk. Nothing big and fancy. He's perfectly content with something quiet and simple. He'd want to just stroll around town and chat about any of your shared likes or hobbies.

China: Maybe this is a little funny, seeing as he's so old, but Yao would take you to a museum. Mainly to constantly fact-check the workers there, as well as the displays. Especially if it's a Chinese museum. He's been around for 4000+ years, honey. He knows more than the people who work there.

Canada: Okay, this can go one of two ways. Matthieu would either take you on a nature walk through the beautiful Canadian woods, or he'd take you to a hockey game. Either way, the night will end with the two of you going in for a kiss, only to get interrupted by Mr. Kumajiro.

Denmark: I know this is gonna sound ridiculous, but Mathias would absolutely take you to the Lego Store. There is no way you can convince me that this man doesn't love Legos. He'd get cute little minifigures made of the two of you.

Sweden: I can see Berwald either being content with sitting at home and drinking hot cocoa, going to a musical performance of some kind, or, dare I say it, going to an IKEA and talking about what pieces of furniture would look the best in his or your living room.

Norway: Lukas would take you out into the woods late in the evening for the two of you to stargaze. He'd point out different constellations and tell you the stories behind them.

Finland: Alright, we all know Tino's a cutie, but don't let that adorable face deceive you. A first date with this man will either end up with him taking you to a heavy metal concert, or taking you out sharpshooting.

[eternalsams]

Let Me Go ➛ Arthur Morgan

pairing: arthur morgan x fem!reader

warning/content: bit of fluff, angst, rdr2 spoilers, high honor arthur, mention of death, tuberculosis, horses death (it's a fair warning), little bit of blood

summary: there is only one thing Arthur wants, get you somewhere safe, no matter what it costs.

word count: 2.1k

a/n: english isn't my first language, please take that into consideration. This is also my first time writing for Arthur, please be indulgent!

red dead redemption masterlist main masterlist

Arthur didn't think he'd let himself fall in love a second time. The first time it happened, his heart had been broken as he was on one knee, proposing to Mary. He swore he'd never let any other woman sneak her way into his heart ever again, he would've done anything not to feel that tightening feeling in his chest if he ever got rejected once again. But Eliza happened, they met in a bar in the West. She was a cute waitress, he was still young and handsome. And he almost felt like he could fall in love with her when she gave him a son, he was ready to. He wanted to forget his own promise and be a real family with her and little Isaac. But it all ended way too soon when he stood in front of those two graves next to the cabin they thought they'd be safe in.

Years passed by and he couldn't look at any woman anymore, his heart broken, stained by grief and sorrow. And after the Blackwater disaster, he didn't even had the thought of seeking comfort in a woman's arms. So when Charles came back to camp with your curled up figure in his arms, he didn't pay much attention. Strauss was harassing him to collect some debts for the gang and meeting a new unfortunate soul brought back by Charles was not in his plans. But one night you came up to him and tried having a conversation with him. You spent hours talking with him, captivated by his low voice telling you all kind of stories about people he met, animals he'd seen.

And from the moment he started falling for you, he just couldn't stop. You were just so easy to be around, to talk to. He loved spending his late nights chatting with you close to the camp fire, telling you his exploits and you telling him the funny stories that happened at camp while he was away. The first night you spent together was the best one of Arthur's life if you'd ask him, simply holding you in his arms for hours, feeling your heart beating close to his.

But right now, the feeling of your heart beating close to him was everything but comforting. One of your arm were tight around his waist, trying not to squeeze the air out of his sick lungs. John was right ahead, his horse galloping through the trees to escape Dutch's madness and the Pinkertons. You tried your best to hold onto Arthur's rifle in your hand, sometimes letting him go to aim the barrel at the agents surprising you on your way as your lover rode his horse like his life depended on it. Except yours did too. His breathing was starting to grow heavy and loud, feeling like he had to spit the blood out of his lungs.

"Pinkertons on the left, they'll keep the others busy!" You heard John shout and looked to your left. You could hear Micah's voice behind you, insulting you and calling you traitors. "This way!" John indicated but before Arthur could do anything, you were both ejected from your horse, tumbling on the ground. Arthur was quick to make sure you were okay before taking his rifle from your hands and shooting the Pinkertons up the hill. You crawled your way to his horse and soothed him, murmuring sweet things to him as you watched him suffer in pain, blood spurting from his wounds. When all the agents were killed, Arthur came running back to you and gently caressed the horse's neck. "Come on, guys. Let's go." John called after you. You looked up at Arthur and could see fresh tears in his eyes as he watched his horse live his last minutes. "Gimme a second." Arthur asked and leaned over his horse, whispering a thank you to him.

You stood onto your feet with John's help and Arthur grabbed his hat before turning to the two of you. "What about the money? Abigail gave me the key." He asked before looking into your eyes. He once told you he'd get you a part of the Blackwater money and you'd get a ranch somewhere in the west, somewhere nice where the two of you would grow old and die happy. But now that he was sick and dying, you didn't really know if you could even get that ranch with him. "The money's not important, Arthur. Let's just get out of here and find some place safe to hide for a while." You tried to convince him, seeing the hesitation in his eyes. He wanted to give you that money, to you and John. He didn't need it but you did. John's family did. "If you want the money, you head down. I gotta go to my family." John said in turn, holding you upright in his arms.

Arthur looked at you and nodded before putting his hat on his head. "I'm coming with you. I'm gonna get you out of this bullshit if it's the last goddamn thing I do." He said to John before taking your hand in his and helping you walking up the hill. The three of you started running up the cliff as you started to hear new gunshots behind you. "Come on, sweetheart, up we go!" Arthur made you run in front of him, making sure you weren't forgotten behind. You quickly ran up John who also helped you not to fall but often looked over you shoulder to check if Arthur was still following. When you realized he was being too slow, you ran down to him and grabbed his arm, pulling him up. "Don't you worry about me, darling. Just keep running, I'm right behind you." He tried to push you off him. "I'm not leaving you alone, Arthur."

When you reached a high point on the cliff, Arthur pushed you down behind a rock before giving you his two pistols. Two customized Cattleman revolvers. On each handle were a buck and a doe carved. Arthur had them engraved after your first night together, saying you'd always be with him, and him with you. "Remember what I taught you?" Arthur asked you as you looked down at the pistols. "Both eyes open and hold your breath when pulling the trigger." You repeated what he always told you when you trained shooting with him. He smiled at you before taking his rifle from around his shoulder and firing at the Pinkertons with John. You sighed and checked if the guns were loaded before aiming at the Pinkertons, the three of you eliminating them one by one.

"We need to get outta here. Let's go!" John called as he started walking back. You shot another agent and joined John as Arthur tumbled on his knees, his breathing heavier by the minute. You took his hand in yours after you put the pistols back into Arthur's holsters. "Come on, Arthur. Stay with us." You hurried him as you pulled him with you. "You two go..." He breathed out, gently pushing your hand away. "No, Arthur. You're coming with us." You immediately said, refusing to even think about leaving without him. "Keep pushing, Arthur." John encouraged him. "No." He said before coughing more blood. You were about to pull a tissu from your satchel but he wiped his mouth with his hand. "I think I've pushed all I can. You two go." He straightened up and looked at you. "Go with John, sweetheart. Don't make this harder than it is."

"No. You're coming with us, Arthur Morgan. Don't even think I won't drag your heavy body with us." You walked up to him, frustration clear in your voice. That made Arthur chuckle then cough. He softly grabbed your face in his hands and looked into your eyes, lit by the moonlight. "I know you would, darling. That's why I need you to go with John and don't look back." He told you before sending a heavy look to his friend behind you. "No..." Your voice broke and you grabbed his wrists to pull his hands away from your face. "We ain't all gonna make it. And you know it." He tried to reason with you but you refused to listen to him. John came up behind you and grabbed your arm to pull you with him. You snatched your arm from his grip and ran up to Arthur, taking him into your arms. "Please come with us. Don't leave me alone." You cried, your tears rolling down your face and soaking his shirt collar. He wrapped his arms around you and kissed the top of your head. He pulled back and took his pistols out of his belt, handing them to you. "Keep them with you." You reached for them and looked at the carved doe on the first one. Arthur's finger brushing over the worn wooden handle. He then gave you the second one, where the beautiful buck was standing proud, forever engraved into the wood.

"It would mean a lot to me." He closed your hands around his guns before kissing your forehead. He then took off his hat and walked up to John, holding himself onto the younger man's shoulder. He placed his hat on John's head and smiled at him. "Keep her safe for me." He said in a low voice, but not low enough for you to miss it. "No!" You screamed and was about to reach for Arthur but John's arms wrapped around you, pulling you with him as you fought to join your lover. Arthur looked away, not able to watch your tears, and grabbed his rifle, loading it with the shells he kept in his bandolier. "I'll hold them off. Run and don't look back until you find somewhere safe to stay." He ordered, ignoring your cries. "Come on, lady." John tried to pull you with him but you fought with everything you got. "Please. There ain't no more time for talk." Arthur said, looking at you one last time, his eyes shining with tears.

Your knees gave away and if John wasn't holding you so tight, you would've fallen on your knees, scraping them on the rocks. Arthur simply looked at you, trying to memorize how your face looks like, even all red and puffy from crying, you were still the most beautiful woman he's ever laid his eyes on. "Arthur, please..." You pleaded, thinking this was just a bad dream, that your Arthur would never give up and leave you alone. "Go with John, darling." He said, not having the strength to hear your cries more longer. "Arthur!" You called after him. "Just go with him!" He shouted back at you before pausing. You tried not to take it personally and looked at him. "Promise me you'll come back to me." You murmured into the quiet night. The gunshots would eventually come back but right now, all you heard was the wild life. "I love you, darling. Now go." He only said. "Promise me, Arthur!" You tried to run to him but John started walking back, pulling you with him. "Go!" Arthur shouted at you as he noticed more Pinkertons running your way. John saw them too and pulled you harder as you cried in his arms to go to Arthur. "Come on, we gotta go."

"No! We can't leave him! John, please!" You cried out as he made you walk away from the love of your life. Eventually, you heard him shout at the Pinkertons and the gunshots started all over again. When John thought you wouldn't try and run to Arthur no more, he let go of you and only took your hand to run away with you. It was like your body was acting on its own, your brain not following the recent events. You lost the only thing close to a family, lost the sweetest creature you've ever met. You still remember when Arthur first helped you ride his stallion by yourself, you were so scared to do it on your own, the horse was enormous next to you. But he turned out to be the sweetest thing in the world, answering to your calls and keeping you safe when Arthur wasn't there for you. And now you just lost Arthur. Arthur.

It wasn't fair.

The moment John saw a man riding towards the two of you on his horse, he pulled his scarf over his face and took out his gun. "Sir, we need your horse. Right now." He pointed his gun at the man and helped you get onto the horse when the man got scared and tumbled down the saddle. John quickly mounted the horse and had you wrap your arms around him to secure you. He kicked the animal's rear and started riding away. "You okay back there?" He eventually asked you but all you could do was stare at the cliff where you left the man you loved. When you turned to John, you could see the sun rising on the horizon and hoped Arthur could watch it one last time.

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[boiohboii]

Hi! Could you do like toddler Leclerc reader, like she’s the baby sister of the Leclercs and even tho they are quite a lot older than her they love her more than anything and are very protective and doting over her, especially Charles

The three big bad wolves (leclerc!toddler!reader)

N.B: dear anon, thank you for the request......i had this in my inbox for a while, I hope you like it.... WARNINGS: not proof read, don't focus too much on age and stuff, baby leclerc having a crush on mr carlos sainz (who doesn't), I feel like I could've written the ending in a better way of sorts..... if I missed anything please let me know....

masterlist

The three leclerc boys had fallen in love in 2016, Lorenzo was 20, Charles was 19 and Arthur was 16 when they saw their first love. It was when YN Leclerc was born. Her lips parted as hiccups left her small body, her hands laying on her mother's chest and her eyes twinkling as she looked up at her three brothers.

The three boys didn't think their love for yn could be deeper, could be so much more than their hearts dancing at the sound of her giggles, so much more than sitting on small chairs, having their nails painted bright colors and their faces smeared by their mother's make-up. They didn't know how far their love can go, how deep their feelings could be but when tragedy struck the Leclerc household the three boys swore that they'd not just die for their baby sister, they would kill for her, they would tear down worlds for her.

YN coming to races had been rare, Pascale rarely leaves her baby girl out of her sight, she always wants her within her eyesight scared of what the world might do to her little baby.

So when Charles made his way with YN on his hip, some would argue that she is too old for this, her face hiding in his neck and arms wrapped tightly around him feeling safe in her brother's arm. Lorenzo and Arthur were with them as well, just behind Charles, trying to get yn to look at them but to no avail.

"Is that baby leclerc?"

A British voice rang through the hallway as Lando ran up to Charles, pushing Arthur out of the way to take a closer look at yn, stretching his hand to squish her chubby cheeks.

"Hey!"

Lando's protest was loud and clear as soon as Charles moved yn out of his hands way

"Stay away from my sister norris"

Lorenzo's sharp tone scared the youn brit into moving away, allowing Arthur to squeeze himself back into his rightful place.

"Yn baby"

"Yes 'tur"

The sound of her small voice had all 4 men melting, wanting to wrap the little girl in a blanket and keep her away from everything bad in this world.

"Come here"

Arthur extended his hand so that he can carry yn, but Charles maneuvered away from his younger brother refusing to let go of yn

"You have to let her go man, you need to change anyway"

"No no, just for a bit"

"Charles!" His team principle came within their eyesight, looking at charles as he pouted, wanting to have yn in his arms for a bit more.

Not wanting to get fired Charles moved yn into Arthur's arms as Lorenzo kept running his hand through her hair upon seeing her yawn.

"Hey, little leclerc!"

All tiredness disappeared from yn's face as Carlos Sainz jr. entered the room, yn had a crush on him and it wasn't a secret. Her mother and Carlos found it cute, it was a silly little thing that she'll grow out of, her brothers however hated it they didn't want to entertain the idea that she should even have a crush before being 25 years old.

"No, go away" Lorenzo spoke as he moved in front of yn, trying to block her eyesight but it was too late.

"Enzo, moovee" yn whined as she tried to push lorenzo away from her so that she could see the Spaniard

"Come on man, it's just a baby crush, it'll go with time" Carlos reasoned as yn stretched her arms towards him and started fussing in Arthur's hold, wanting to be held by the oldest driver.

"Hey yn" Carlos greeted as he bounced her lightly on his hip, the two words making the little girl blush, a smile on her lips so wide that she would later complain of her face hurting

"Non! Not again! Carlos!" The heavy sound of racing boots running closer reached everyone's ears as they looked towards charles

"Leave yn alone! Give her here"

"Non! Charles, I want to stay with Carlos" tightening her grip onto carlos' shirt, yn looked at Charles, challenging him and making sure that he sees her little hands on his teammate's shirt as a way to make it clear that she's not going anywhere.

"Mon ange!" Charles whined as he stomped his feet

"Honestly, which one of you is the little kid?"

"Zip it norris"

"Be nice to landy" yn frowned at her older brother, reaching one of her hands towards Lando's hair as she patted it as a form of apology making all three leclerc brothers annoyed

"This is just unfair" Arthur complained as he watched his sister have a puppy crush on two drivers, they really shouldn't have introduced her to any of the drivers.