#grand cross arthur
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threbe · 8 months ago
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Arthur
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I'm just wondering Arthur does look a bit older but I'm wondering if he's actually aging slowly do the chaos like chaos wouldn't want their house to die out too soon from older age it seems like he's just aging slowly like to me even though he does look older he looks like he could be in his 20s technically and not his 30s he's gotten a bit taller as well in 7 deadly sins he's 5.7 I believe but in 4 knights I think he's maybe 5.9 at best (I live that Arthur still where's high heels I guess he is shorter compared to most men around him )
🟠Mini rant about Arthur outfits
Hope he gets a new outfit but I now if he does it will just look similar to this maybe 😅
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Wish this had been his outfit in the final Arc
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or in the movie even in flash backs I just get sick of see the outfit with the crosses on it I see all the time now
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An outfit with his kingdoms flag on it would have been cooler and show it's true heart desires and him carrying a part of his lost kingdom with him
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But no we get this all the time
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yaoimancer · 1 year ago
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My 7ds team is just two massive guys and a cat-boy twink and it fills me with joy
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thg-rcg-simps · 9 months ago
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Another Takumi hair boi (suit) in our collection <3
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-TakumiHairGuy & RikkaCatGirl
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ampedupkaon · 11 months ago
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Grand Cross update
I got this.
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And this is how many diamonds it took to get there
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900 diamonds spent... I've had extraordinary luck. I've had 21 SSR/UR. And I've got a Max Level Ult Purgatory Meliodas and have had Chaos Arthur three times (two from draws one from spending 900 diamonds). No Escanor though...
Arthur is at just over 68k at Level 100. He's a monster. Just how I like my best fighters.
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whereisthedamndaddymanual · 8 months ago
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Shall we talk about Arthur
A military man that got a hit off some 220 current
He weighed his words before the next line. Ah, an untrained eye would never know he wanted to say it with a little grace. I allowed for it.
He said it was the best two weeks of lovemaking he ever had. Now, I flinched at that phrasing. I kinda despise when men say they made love. They don't.
But, this is an old hand so I ignored it.
I asked why he didn't tap himself again with a big shock. His explanation was that he thought it almost killed him the first time
*yanno reaches hand up*
I was down and needed help he said.
#grand mason#ma grandson#love ma king#*shrugs* it's Arthur yanno#I Know his Spiirt is like right there#leave the boy alone daughter he's fine#pats my leg to stay put#me: yeah good idea#good time for a reading lession hmm#he didn't like me seeing him in the nursing homes...the irony is hilarious#Grandpa was the first bird that died on me I was expecting it#I just didn't know what it meant#I wanna be like you better be careful rushing one of your women to hurry up and get married#that was bad advice Arthur#as far as his granddaughter...#it falls down to me to handle that I guess#so many crossing riffs around Arthur#and it is odd to me because Johnny must have been his son#but it was me that he picked out#curious their lives to bring our relationship into focus for Arthur#I am like how big are the doors here and he is like that road at the end of the field says it's about 360#well twins that make twins how novel.....how could have been us if you hadn't waited so long#ah but we will kinda have a twin set embedded in ours +C#I wonder who they end up with yanno#each other us my guess#and there is something lovely about his spirit because it doesnt annoy me like the rest#his words annoyed me but strange the irritation that can bring back a memory#I was like I haven't been this mad at an old man since .... since....Arthur used to say the exact same thing to me#and my spire kinda just kinda went hold up a second nigga what did you just say#He must have been watching cooper from the day he started there I bet though
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corrupte3d-mindz · 8 months ago
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Forever a Shelby
Thomas Shelby x Wife Reader
Summary: Thomas and you get married.
Wordcount: 4.2k
Warnings:
protective! Thomas, cocky! Thomas if you squint, kissing, lap sitting,
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Thomas Shelby stood at the altar, the weight of his suit jacket pressing down on his broad shoulders. The church was grand, decorated with white lilies and gold ribbons, a stark contrast to the gritty streets of Birmingham that he knew so well.
Sunlight streamed through stained glass windows, casting a kaleidoscope of colors across the stone floor. The pews were filled with both Shelbys and Changrettas, two families whose histories were steeped in blood and rivalry. Today, however, was meant to be a day of unity, a truce symbolized by the marriage of Thomas Shelby and the daughter of his fiercest enemy, Luca Changretta. Arthur stood beside him, a rare softness in his eyes as he glanced back at the congregation. He reached out, patting Thomas on the shoulder, his grip firm but comforting. "Nervous, Tommy?"
Thomas turned his head slightly, the corner of his mouth twitching in what could almost be considered a smile. "No, Arthur," he replied, his voice low and steady. "Nervous ain't in my nature." His accent, thick and rich, rolled off his tongue, a constant reminder of his roots.
Polly Gray sat in the front row, her dark eyes fixed on her nephew. There was a mixture of pride and apprehension in her gaze, a silent prayer for the future. Beside her, Michael leaned back, arms crossed, a smirk playing on his lips as he observed the gathering. Arthur's wife, Linda, looked on with a serene expression, her hand resting in her lap. John sat a few rows behind, bouncing his baby on his knee, his wife Esme smiling warmly at the scene. Ada, dressed in a striking blue dress, chatted animatedly with Finn, while Johnny Dogs and Isaiah exchanged hushed whispers, their eyes darting around the room. The tension in the air was palpable, a heady mix of anticipation and unease. Thomas felt it in his bones, the weight of expectations and the ghosts of the past pressing down on him. Marrying into the Changretta family was a strategic move, but it wasn’t a strategic move on his part, it was love. Yes, Thomas Shelby had fallen in love with a Changretta but the same could be said for her.
“Now, hush Arthur. She’ll be walking down that aisle any minute now,” Thomas murmured, his voice a low growl that carried an edge of authority. He straightened his posture, his gaze fixed on the ornate doors at the end of the aisle
Arthur looked at him again; “You sure you’re not nervous?” Thomas could feel the eyes of everyone in the room on him, waiting for his reaction. He turned his head slightly, his gaze locking onto Arthur’s for a moment before he replied.
“I said I’m not fucking nervous, Arthur,” he said, his voice low and steady, laced with a thick Birmingham accent that carried an edge of impatience. To emphasize his point, he kicked Arthur in the back of his left knee, causing his brother to stumble briefly. Thomas chuckled, a rare, genuine sound that broke the tension momentarily. He could always count on Arthur to lighten the mood, even if unintentionally.
The sound of the organ began to fill the room, a deep, resonant melody that signaled the start of the ceremony. The guests fell silent, their attention shifting to the doors that were slowly opening. Thomas took a deep breath, his heart pounding in his chest. This was it, the moment that would seal their fate, for better or worse; who was he kidding? It was for better! As the doors opened fully, revealing her figure, Thomas felt a rush of emotions. She stood there, framed by the golden light that spilled in from the hallway, her silhouette ethereal and almost otherworldly. Her dress, a delicate creation of black lace and satin, hugged her form gracefully, the long train trailing behind her like a whisper. A veil covered her face, but even through the sheer fabric, Thomas could see the outline of her features, delicate and serene.
Her father, Luka Changretta, stood beside her, his expression a mask of pride and caution. The tension between the two men was palpable, a silent reminder of the bloody history that lay between their families. Thomas’s eyes never left her as she began her slow walk down the aisle. Each step she took seemed to echo in his mind, a steady rhythm that matched the beating of his heart. He could see the slight tremble in her hands, the way she clutched her bouquet of white roses a little too tightly. Despite the nerves, she moved with a grace and determination that he found both admirable and endearing.
Arthur leaned in slightly, his voice a whisper in Thomas’s ear. “She looks beautiful, Tommy.”
Thomas nodded, unable to tear his eyes away from her. “Aye, she does,” he replied, his voice softer now, filled with an emotion he rarely allowed himself to feel. In that moment, he felt a connection to her that went beyond their shared history, beyond the political and familial implications of their marriage. It was something deeper, a bond that he hoped would grow stronger with time. The sound of the organ began to fill the room, a deep, resonant melody that signaled the start of the ceremony. The guests fell silent, their attention shifting to the doors that were slowly opening. Thomas took a deep breath, his heart pounding in his chest. This was it, the moment that would seal their fate, for better or worse. But it was never worse, it saw always for better. As she reached the front of the aisle, Luka placed her hand in Thomas’s, a gesture heavy with significance. Their eyes met, while under the veil; a silent understanding passing between them, He lifted the delicate veil that covered her face, their eyes meeting in a silent understanding. This was not just a marriage of convenience or strategy; it was a commitment to each other, to the future they would build together.
Jeremiah stood before them, the priest's presence both comforting and solemn. His voice, deep and resonant, filled the chapel, echoing off the ancient walls. "Dearly beloved, we are gathered here today to join together in holy matrimony Thomas Michael Shelby and _______ LaPaglia Changretta." His words carried the weight of history and expectation, binding not just two people, but two families with a fraught past.
Thomas's eyes flickered to the woman beside him. _______ LaPaglia Changretta. She was beautiful, her dark hair cascading in soft waves over her shoulders, her eyes a deep, enigmatic brown. Her dress was elegant, simple yet stunning, the black fabric contrasting sharply with her olive skin. She stood with a quiet grace, her expression serene, yet there was a fire in her eyes that spoke of strength and determination.
Jeremiah's voice cut through the silence. "Do you, Thomas Michael Shelby, take _______ LaPaglia Changretta to be your lawful wedded wife?" Thomas felt the weight of the moment pressing down on him. Every decision, every move he made was calculated, and this was no different. "I do," he said, his voice steady, firm. It was a commitment not just to her, but to the path he had chosen, the alliances he was forging.
He turned to her. "Do you, _______ LaPaglia Changretta, solemnly swear to love, honor, and obey till death do you part?" Her response was immediate, her voice clear and unwavering. "I do." There was a finality in those words, a binding promise that echoed through the chapel, sealing their fates together.
Jeremiah's proclamation was met with a collective breath, as if the entire room had been holding it in anticipation. "I now pronounce you husband and wife." The words hung in the air, a declaration that felt both momentous and surreal. Thomas turned to his new wife, his expression unreadable. He leaned in, his lips brushing against hers in a kiss that sealed their union. It was a kiss that spoke of duty and obligation, but beneath it all, there was a spark, a glimmer of something more. As they turned to face their families, the applause was polite, restrained. This was no ordinary wedding, and the people gathered here understood the gravity of the situation. Arthur left the alter and walk to the pew to join his family. Their expression a mix of approval and caution. Polly Gray, ever the matriarch, watched with a keen eye, her sharp mind assessing every nuance, every subtle shift in the room.
The Changrettas were less expressive, their faces a mask of formality. Luca Changretta's presence was a dark cloud, a reminder of the delicate balance they were trying to achieve. His eyes bore into Thomas, a silent challenge that promised future confrontation. Thomas took her hand as they walked down the aisle, the weight of expectation heavy on his shoulders. Every step was a reminder of the path he had chosen, he wouldn’t ever regret it; the future he was forging. The guests rose as they passed, their eyes following the couple, whispers of speculation and curiosity filling the air. This was a union that would be talked about for years to come, a merging of two powerful families with a history of bloodshed and betrayal.
Outside the chapel, the sun shone brightly, a stark contrast to the somber atmosphere within. The reception awaited, a lavish affair that promised to be both a celebration and a test of the new alliance. As they stepped into the sunlight, Thomas felt the warmth on his face, a brief respite from the shadows that seemed to follow him wherever he went. He glanced at her, her smile a beacon of hope in the uncertainty that lay ahead.
"Welcome to the family," Thomas said, his voice low, the Birmingham accent thick and unmistakable.
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The kitchen was a stark contrast to the rest of Arrow House, filled with the smell of freshly baked bread and the earthy scent of the wood burning in the hearth. Thomas stood at the head of the room, his piercing blue eyes scanning the room, ensuring he had the attention of every man present. The weight of the day was palpable; this was his wedding day, a day that marked a significant turning point in his life and the Shelby family. His dark suit was meticulously tailored, each stitch a testament to his attention to detail, and his peaked cap sat jauntily on his head, casting a shadow over his face that made his intense expression even more formidable.
"Right, boys, you're all here," he began, his voice carrying the authoritative edge that had come to define him. The men around the kitchen, his brothers Arthur, John, and Finn, along with Michael and a few trusted others, like Charlie and Johnny Dogs turned their attention to him. Each face was a study in respect and a touch of fear, for they knew Thomas was not a man to be crossed, especially not today.
"Today, this is my fucking wedding day," Thomas continued, his tone brooking no argument. His words hung in the air, heavy with the unspoken understanding that this day was sacred, not just for him, but for the entire Shelby clan. It was a rare occasion of vulnerability, where the hard-edged leader allowed a glimpse of the man beneath the armor.
John, ever the irreverent one, couldn't help but interject. "Yeah, and you said there'd be no bloody uniforms," he said, his voice tinged with a mixture of defiance and humor. The tension in the room crackled for a moment, a testament to the volatile nature of their relationships. Thomas fixed John with a steely gaze, his eyes narrowing slightly. "Nevertheless... Nevertheless, John..." he began, his voice a low growl that seemed to reverberate off the walls. He took a step closer, his presence dominating the room. "Despite the bad blood, I'll have none of it on my carpet." His words were a command, not a request, and the message was clear: today was about unity, not division.
His gaze swept around the circle, making eye contact with each man, ensuring they understood the gravity of his words. "Now for my wife's sake, nothing will go wrong," he declared, his voice firm and unyielding. His love for his bride was a rare softness in his otherwise hardened demeanor, and he was determined to protect her from the chaos that often surrounded the Shelbys. Thomas pointed outside the kitchen, towards the bustling preparations for the wedding. "Those bastards out there are her family," he said, his voice tinged with a hint of disdain. He had little patience for those who might threaten the harmony of his wedding day, and he would go to great lengths to ensure everything went smoothly.
His hand traveled around the circle, pointing at each man in turn as he spoke. "And if you fuckers do anything to embarrass her, your kin, your cousins, your horses, your fucking kids, you do anything..." His voice trailed off as he fixed his gaze on Arthur, the eldest and most unpredictable of the brothers. There was a pause, a moment where the weight of his words seemed to settle over the room like a heavy fog.
Isaiah, leaning casually against the counter, broke the uneasy silence. "Tom..?" Thomas's gaze snapped to Isaiah, a flicker of impatience crossing his features. "To... WHAT!?" he barked, his voice low but commanding.
He hesitated, shifting his weight from one foot to the other. "What about snow," he ventured, his tone cautious. John eyes narrowed, the muscles in his jaw tightening. "Yeah, their women are sports, I’ll say that.."
"No. No. No." Thomas cut him off sharply, striding towards Isaiah with purpose. He stopped inches from his face, his breath hot and laced with the smell of tobacco. "No cocaine," he said, jabbing a finger towards Isaiah's face for emphasis. "No cocaine."
The room fell silent, the tension palpable as Thomas turned his attention to John, who stood to Isaiah's right. "No sport," Thomas said, waving his hand dismissively. "No telling fortunes."
He began to pace, the soles of his polished shoes tapping rhythmically against the tiled floor. Each step seemed to echo with unspoken threats, a reminder of the consequences of disobedience. He approached Arthur, his oldest and most volatile brother, stopping just short of him. "No racing," Thomas ordered, his voice a low growl. Arthur met his gaze with a slight nod, the fire in his eyes dimmed by his brother's authority. Breaking from the circle, Thomas crossed to Finn, the youngest of the Shelby brothers. Grabbing Finn's face with his left hand, he forced him to look into his eyes. "No fucking sucking petrol," he snarled, his grip tightening. He delivered a light slap to Finn's cheek, a reminder of the discipline he expected. "Out of their fucking cars."
Satisfied, Thomas released Finn and turned to Charlie, who had been lingering on the edge of the group. "And, you, Charlie," he said, his voice softer but no less intense. "Stop spinning yards about me, eh?" Charlie, taken aback, spoke up as Thomas turned his back. "I'm just trying to sell you to them, Tom," he defended.
Thomas took a deep drag from his cigarette, the smoke curling around his face as he exhaled. He rubbed his eyes with the heels of his hands, a rare sign of the stress he carried. Returning to the center of the circle, he spun slowly, addressing them all. "But the main thing is, you bunch of fuckers," he began, his voice rising with intensity. "Despite the provocation from her family, no fighting."
He turned his head slightly, locking eyes with Isaiah. The room seemed to hold its breath as Thomas slowly made his way toward him, the echo of his footsteps on the wooden floor punctuating the silence. As he reached Isaiah, Thomas lifted his chin with a firm but controlled hand, forcing Isaiah to meet his gaze. His eyes were cold, yet there was a flicker of something deeper—an unspoken understanding, perhaps. “Oi,” Thomas began, his voice a low growl that resonated with authority. He pointed a finger at Isaiah, his expression unwavering. “No fighting.”
With a swift, deliberate movement, Thomas shifted to his right, positioning himself in front of John. He didn’t waste a moment, his finger darting out to point at John with the same intensity. “No fucking fighting,” he repeated, his tone leaving no room for argument. John's smirk faltered under Thomas's glare, replaced by a nod of compliance.
Thomas moved again, this time to Arthur. Their eyes met, and an unspoken tension filled the air. Arthur, ever the wild card, was the one Thomas needed to keep in check the most. Pointing at his older brother, Thomas's voice was a commandment. “No fighting.” Arthur, his usual bravado momentarily subdued, nodded with a grunt, understanding the gravity of the order. Next, Thomas’s eyes fell on Michael, who was leaning against the wall with a nonchalant air. Without a word, Thomas pointed at him. Michael straightened up, his casual demeanor replaced by a look of acknowledgement. The silent exchange spoke volumes—Michael knew exactly what was expected of him.
Finally, Thomas turned towards Finn’s direction, his youngest brother, “No,” he said, his voice slicing through the tension. He then swung his gaze back to Arthur’s direction. “Fucking.” And finally, his eyes landed on Charlie's direction. “Fighting.”
The room fell silent once more, the weight of Thomas’s words hanging heavily in the air. Each man understood the simplicity of the command. In this room, defying Thomas Shelby was not an option. Thomas took a drag from his cigarette, the ember glowing brightly in the dim light, and exhaled a plume of smoke. He walked towards his coat, which was draped over a chair between Michael and Arthur. “Good,” he muttered, his satisfaction evident in the single word. With his back turned slightly, Thomas didn’t see the butler approaching. The man, new to the household and unfamiliar with the Shelby way, hesitated for a moment too long. The collision was inevitable. The impact was sudden, and Thomas spun around, his face a mask of fury. “Get the fuck off me!” he snarled, shoving the butler to the ground. The bottle of wine the butler had been holding shattered on the floor, red liquid spreading like blood across the wood.
Arthur, ever the enforcer, hurled his glass at the butler, the sound of shattering glass echoing through the room. The butler scrambled to his feet, fear written all over his face as he hurried out of the kitchen, leaving behind a mess of broken glass and spilled wine. Thomas exhaled one last plume of smoke before stubbing out his cigarette in the ashtray. He adjusted his coat, smoothing out the fabric as he straightened up. “Right,” he said, his voice breaking the silence. “Let’s get this done.” He turned on his heel and strode out of the kitchen, his family and comrades falling into step behind him. The sound of their footsteps echoed through the hallway as they made their way towards the main event. Thomas’s mind was already racing ahead, planning, strategizing, ensuring that everything would go smoothly. But the words he had spoken in the kitchen lingered in the air, a solemn vow that no matter what happened, there would be no fighting. Not today.
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As Thomas Shelby sat at the head of the table during his wedding dinner, the room was alive with the clinking of cutlery and the murmur of conversation. He raised the crystal glass to his lips, savoring the last drops of whiskey that burned pleasantly down his throat. Setting the glass down with a soft clink, his eyes swept across the room, taking in the faces of his family and the guests. His gaze lingered for a moment on his wife her beauty striking even in the dim candlelight. She was radiant, her smile lighting up the room. But as his eyes drifted to her father, he noticed the man's steely gaze fixed upon him. Thomas arched an eyebrow, a faint smirk playing at the corner of his lips.
"You look absolutely stunning today, luv," Thomas remarked, his voice low and tinged with admiration. "Hard to keep me eyes off of you." He reached out to gently squeeze her hand, a small, affectionate gesture amidst the formality of the occasion.
"I can say the same for you, Mr. Shelby," she replied, her smile radiant as she returned his gaze, her eyes sparkling with happiness.
Thomas smiled, a rare, genuine expression that softened his features. His attention then shifted to her father, a man of stature and presence, seated a bit farther down to her. "Well, you're not the only one whose eyes are on me, eh?" he quipped, a hint of playful charm in his voice.
"Luv," he murmured, leaning towards his wife, "would you mind telling your father to stop staring me down, eh?" His tone was light, teasing, but there was a hint of challenge in his eyes.
His bride glanced nervously at her father, then back at Thomas. "Tommy, I'm sorry," she whispered, her voice tinged with apprehension, "but that's just how he is."
Thomas nodded slowly, his gaze unwavering. "I see," he replied, his voice low and measured. He leaned back in his chair, his mind working quickly. He was used to dealing with difficult situations, but this was his wedding day, a day that should have been free of such tensions.
There was a moment of hesitation, a flicker of doubt in Thomas's eyes as he considered the weight of his actions. But then, with a determined glint in his eye, he reached out and gently cupped her face in his hand. She looked at him, her eyes shining with unshed tears, and he knew that this was where he belonged. Leaning in, he pressed his lips to hers in a kiss that was both tender and passionate, a silent declaration of his love and commitment. The room erupted into applause and cheers, the sound echoing off the walls as Thomas and Luka's families celebrated their union.
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Hours had slipped by like fleeting ghosts since Thomas had exchanged vows, and now, in the quiet intimacy of their bedroom, he sat with his new wife perched gently on his lap. The flickering light from the bedside lamp cast a warm glow, accentuating the soft features of her face and the delicate curves of her figure. He gazed at her, his eyes tracing every line, every contour, as if committing her beauty to memory.
"You're absolutely gorgeous, Mrs. Shelby," he murmured, his voice a low, husky rasp that betrayed a hint of awe. His hands, calloused yet gentle, cradled her waist, fingers tracing idle patterns on the fabric of her dress. The weight of her presence on his lap was a comfort, grounding him in the reality of this new chapter of his life.
"I like when you call me Mrs. Shelby," she said softly, her voice a soothing melody in the quiet room. Her words were like a balm to his weary soul, a reminder of the new life they were beginning together.
Thomas wrapped his arms around her, pulling her closer to him. He rested his chin on her shoulder, breathing in the scent of her hair. It was a moment of peace amidst the chaos that always seemed to follow him.
"I like it too," he replied, his voice low and gravelly. "It suits you, Mrs. Shelby."
"You're fuckin' perfect for me... y'know that?" Thomas's voice was low, almost a whisper, but filled with sincerity. His hand reached up to cup her face, his thumb brushing gently against her cheek. There was a gentleness in his touch, a rare vulnerability that he showed only to her.
Their lips met in a tender kiss, a silent affirmation of their love and commitment to each other. It was a moment of pure intimacy, a shared connection that transcended words. Her hands roamed freely, exploring his body with a familiarity that spoke of countless nights spent together. Thomas pulled her closer, his other hand wrapping around her waist, holding her as if afraid she might slip away. Their kiss deepened, a silent communication of their love and desire for each other. It was a dance they knew well, a rhythm that was uniquely theirs. Her fingers tangled in his hair, pulling him closer, deepening the kiss even further. His hair, usually so meticulously styled, was now a tousled mess, a testament to the passion between them. She loved the way his hair felt between her fingers, the way it seemed to have a life of its own.
They broke the kiss, but remained intertwined, her head resting against his chest, his chin on her shoulder. They sat in comfortable silence, the weight of the day's events slowly settling on their shoulders. The gravity of their new union was not lost on Thomas; he knew the responsibilities that came with it, the need to protect and provide for his new family. His mind drifted to the future, a future now entwined with hers. He thought of the challenges they would face, the dangers that lurked in the shadows of their world. But he also thought of the moments of joy, the simple pleasures they would share.
Author’s Notes:
Y’all, I fucking love this oneshot..it’s so cute I finally did my own rendition of the wedding scene..ahhhhhhhh I feel like I got it just right y’all..ahh it’s fucking cute!!!
Deadass I should have written smut but nah, I don’t feel like it
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ink-through-her-veins · 2 years ago
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Arthur is courting Merlin. Everyone in the castle knows… except apparently for Merlin.
Arthur gives Merlin a neckerchief. Two days later, he uses it to bandage a new knight’s wound. Arthur picks Merlin flowers and Merlin chops, grinds and boils them into remedies. Arthur tries to take Merlin on a romantic picnic and Merlin packs a crossbow instead of a picnic basket.
It’s driving Arthur insane. He’s so desperate that he’s almost to the point of actually talking to Merlin but he knows he can find the perfect gift to express how much Merlin means to him, he just needs to try harder.
He asks Gwen for advice. He buys Gwaine endless amounts of ale and pumps him for knowledge on Merlin’s likes. He pulls Lancelot aside after training and grills him on everything he knows about Merlin.
It becomes clear that Arthur needs to make a grand gesture. So when Merlin walks into his chambers that night, Arthur blurts out, “I know you have magic and I’m going to repeal the magic ban for you.”
Merlin shrugs his shoulders and nonchalantly says, “That’s nice” without even a thank you.
After preparing Arthur for bed, Merlin goes to the tavern for a celebratory drink. He sits beside Gwaine and helps himself to his jug of ale, ignoring the empty jugs littering the table.
“The Princess is trying to court you, you know?” Gwaine drunkenly slurs into Merlin’s ear, his arm slung across Merlin’s shoulders.
“I know.”
Gwaine looks cross eyed and confused. “But you rejected all his gifts and we all know it’s not because you don’t love him because you’re ass over kettle for him, completely looney—“
Merlin smirks, shrugs his shoulders and admits, “He hasn’t said a word about it. He just keeps throwing gifts at me and ordering me to pack picnics. He’s going to repeal the ban on magic for me and he can’t even say, ‘Merlin I would like to court you.’ Relationships require communication and Arthur needs to be taught how.”
The door to the tavern slams closed. Just inside the door, still in his sleep clothes and wearing his boots on the wrong feet, stands the King, wide-eyed from the sheer insanity of the man he loves.
“Merlin!” Arthur shouts in the suddenly silent tavern. “You absolute menace, fool and love of my miserable life, I would like to court you. Is that all right with you?”
Merlin smiles, takes a drink of his ale and only has time to say, “I suppose” before Arthur drags him back to the privacy of his chambers so they can snog each other senseless.
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theemporium · 1 year ago
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What about 🧸 and Charles Leclerc ? Literally whatever you desire, maybe featuring his family or other drivers?
thank you for requesting!🫶🏽
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“I’m going to cry.”
“Charles—”
“Look at him, mon amour! He looks so cute!”
The Monaco Grand Prix was important for every driver due to its history and nostalgia, but it meant so much more to Charles. Ever since he was a child, he dreamed of racing on the streets he grew up on. He dreamed of being in a car, hearing crowds scream his name as he crossed the finish line. He dreamed of standing on the top step of the podium and holding the trophy in the air proudly at his home race. 
The Monaco Grand Prix meant everything to him, and it meant everything to him to have the people he cared about most there with him. He wouldn’t dream of racing without having his friends and family and biggest support systems by his side. It was what truly helped him and motivated him through the day. 
With you, that circle extended. And now, it extended once more when little Matteo Leclerc was born. 
It was Charles' dream to have a family. To meet the love of his life, to grow and live with her, to take that step into creating a lovely family together. And Charles knew you were the woman for him when he first met you. He had blurted as much in your face the first time he spoke to you. And now years later, to have the son you both created in his arms, it felt like a full circle moment. 
Yes, the Monaco Grand Prix was always important to Charles but this one was more important than the rest—this was the first time his son was coming to his race, to his own home race.
“I would not have dressed him up like this if I knew you’d get so emotional,” you teased your husband, watching as his eyes welled up as he gently cooed at the giggling boy in his arms. Mattheo was still young, just shy of turning one years old in a few weeks during the summer break.
“Oh hush,” Charles sniffled. “I would have cried anyways, regardless of what he was wearing.”
“So the Red Bull merch would have been too much?” You joked. 
Charles narrowed his eyes. “Don’t say bad words around my son,” he said with his chin held high before he turned to Mattheo, his face softening in seconds as the boy garbled and reached for his father’s face. “My son is a Ferrari fan, through and through.”
“Don’t disown him if you find him in the McLaren garage later,” Arthur piped up, walking towards the two of you with a mischievous grin on his face. “I heard Norris has baby merch waiting to change Matteo into.”
Charles’ hold became more protective of his son. “Over my dead body.”
You rolled your eyes, lightly hitting Arthur’s arm. “Stop messing with him.”
“But it’s so fun,” Arthur whined in response. 
You snorted. “It is.”
“Ah, ma vie, look at your mama and uncle teaming up on me,” Charles whispered loudly to his son, gently rocking him back and forth as the young boy stared up at his father with eager eyes. “It’s just you and me against the world.”
“Stop turning my son against me or I will let Lando change him into that horrendous orange merch,” you jokingly threatened, trying to bite back your own grin when you saw Charles grinning. 
“I’ll make it up to you later, mon amour,” Charles winked. 
“Aw, bleh! Not in front of my nephew!” Arthur fake gagged, which only seemed to make little Matteo burst into a fit of giggles. “Go get ready before you miss the start of the race! And give me my nephew before you scar the poor boy for life!”
It took ten minutes to convince Charles to let go of Matteo, his heart shattering a little when the young boy became frustrated and fussy after being parted from his father. But you kissed him on the lips, whispering good luck and telling him to return safely to his family on the other side of this race. 
And that was exactly what he did—and more. 
It didn’t even hit him until he was standing on the top step, the national anthem blaring through the speakers as his eyes glanced over the crowd below to find you and Matteo at the front of the crowd. He couldn’t really see you but he knew you were crying, he knew he was probably crying too. 
And little Matteo looked up at him from the crowd, cheering and clapping his hands once he spotted his father and Charles could’ve sworn his life had peaked. This was what he dreamed of long before he realised. To win his home race, to stand on the top step, to see his family waiting for him as he raised the trophy in the air and drowned in champagne sprays before rushing straight towards them.
“Mes amours,” Charles murmured, tears streaming down his face and a grin so wide that nothing would have wiped it off his face as he reached to hold you both.
“Our winner,” you responded, your free hand cupping his cheek to swipe away a few stray tears with your thumb.
“Dada!” Matteo cheered happily, causing both you and Charles to let out laughs of disbelief as your son uttered his first word. 
“Yes,” Charles laughed, nodding his head as he reached for his babbling son. “Me! Dada!” 
“Dada!” Matteo repeated, a gummy grin on his face as he squished his father’s cheeks together, and this time neither of you could stop the tears streaming down your face. 
This was the day Charles had always dreamed of and he had finally achieved it.
.
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driverlando · 8 months ago
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✧.* A REWARD FOR THE CHAMP
synopsis- you give Charles the perfect end to an unforgettable night (Charles leclerc x f!reader)
before you read- 18+ only, contains smut (oral, f receiving and m receiving and p in v) If you enjoy, pls reblog and follow! I'm a new writer and appreciate your support. :)
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The sun was setting over the picturesque streets of Monaco, casting a golden hue over the harbour and the cheering crowds. Charles Leclerc had just achieved a lifelong dream and had broke the curse: winning the Monaco Grand Prix. The roar of the crowd and the national anthem still echoed in his ears as he made his way through the paddock, a broad grin never leaving his face.
In the team’s hospitality suite, his friends and fellow drivers gathered around, the celebratory mood infectious. Carlos Sainz, his teammate, was the first to embrace him, a proud grin on his face.
“You did it, mate! you’re a legend,” Carlos said, slapping Charles on the back.
Charles laughed, shaking his head. “I know, I know. I feel like I’m dreaming.”
Max Verstappen, always competitive but genuinely happy for his friend, raised his glass in a toast. “To Charles, for making us all look slow on his home turf.”
Laughter rippled through the group, and Charles clinked glasses with his friends, basking in the moment. “Merci, les gars. Tonight, we celebrate!” (Thank you, guys)
As the evening wore on, the drivers slowly began to disperse, some heading back to their hotels, others to after-parties. Charles stayed a bit longer, enjoying the camaraderie, but his thoughts were already drifting to you. He knew you were waiting for him, and the thought of seeing you made his heart race faster than the last lap of the race.
“Heading home, champ?” Arthur asked, raising an eyebrow knowingly.
Charles nodded, a mischievous smile playing on his lips. “Yeah, I have someone special waiting for me.”
Arthur chuckled. “Well, definitely don’t keep her waiting. Enjoy your night, Charles.”
With a final wave to his friends, Charles made his way out of the suite, the thrill of victory still coursing through his veins. The drive home was a blur, the familiar streets of Monaco rushing past until he finally pulled into the driveway of your shared apartment.
He opened the door quietly, stepping inside to find you waiting in the living room, a smile lighting up your face as soon as you saw him. You stood, crossing the room to wrap your arms around him, pressing a kiss to his lips.
“Félicitations, mon amour,” you whispered, your eyes sparkling with pride.
Charles held you close, his hands resting on your hips. “Merci, chérie. I couldn’t wait to get home to you.”
You smiled, taking his hand and leading him towards the couch. “I have a special celebration planned for you.”
His eyebrows rose in curiosity, but he followed without question. You gently pushed him to sit on the couch, your fingers working deftly to unbutton his shirt. He watched you, his breath hitching as you slid the fabric off his shoulders, revealing the toned muscles beneath.
“You’ve worked so hard for this,” you murmured, pressing kisses to his chest. “Tonight, let me take care of you.”
Charles’ eyes darkened with desire as he leaned back, watching you. “Je suis tout à toi,” (I’m all yours) he whispered, his voice husky. “Always so good to me”
Your cheeks flushed at his words, the heat pooling between your legs as you knelt before him, your hands trailing down his chest to the waistband of his pants. He watched you, anticipation clear in his gaze.
“Let me show you how proud I am,” you whispered, unbuttoning and unzipping his pants. You freed him from the confines of his boxers, his erection springing free. He was already hard, his desire for you evident. His tip already leaking with pre cum.
Charles groaned as you wrapped your hand around him, giving a few slow, teasing strokes. “You drive me crazy, you know that?”
You smiled, your tongue darting out to lick the tip, tasting the salty essence of him. “Good,” you murmured, before taking him into your mouth.
His hips jerked involuntarily as you sucked him in deeper, your tongue swirling around him. You set a slow, torturous pace, wanting to savour every moment, every sound he made. Charles’ hands found their way to your hair, his fingers tangling in the strands as he guided your movements. His chest was already flushed, sweat pooling around his muscles. He looked like a dream.
“Mon Dieu,” (my God) he breathed, his voice thick with pleasure. “You’re amazing.”
His praise spurred you on, and you took him deeper, your cheeks hollowing as you sucked harder. His hips bucked, and you moaned around him, the vibration making him curse softly in French.
“Do you like that, Charles? Do you like how I make you feel?” you asked, pulling back slightly to stroke him with your hand.
“Oui, je t’adore,” (yes, I love it) he murmured. “I love it, I love you.”
You took him back into your mouth, increasing the pace. Charles’ breathing grew heavier, his grip on your hair tightening as he guided your movements. You felt him start to tense, his muscles coiling in anticipation of release.
“Mon amour, I’m close,” he warned, his voice strained with need.
You didn’t slow down, wanting to bring him the same intense pleasure he’d given you. His hips began to move in time with your motions, his breath coming in ragged gasps.
“Just like that,” he groaned, his voice rough. “You’re perfect.”
With a final, deep thrust, he came undone, spilling into your mouth with a guttural moan. You swallowed every drop, savouring the taste of him as he shuddered beneath you.
When he finally caught his breath, he pulled you up into a searing kiss, tasting himself on your lips. “You’re incredible,” he murmured, his hands caressing your back.
You smiled against his lips, your heart swelling with love. “Anything for you, Charles.”
He pulled you closer, his hands roaming over your body, as if memorising every curve, every inch of you. “Let me show you how much I appreciate you,” you whispered after a few minutes of kissing, once you knew he was undoubtedly getting hard for you again.
You wasted no time stripping off your clothes, the heat between you both too intense to ignore. You pushed him down onto the couch and straddled his hips, sinking down onto him with a gasp. The sensation of him filling you completely made your head spin, a soft moan escaping your lips.
Charles’ hands found your waist, steadying you as you began to move, rocking your hips against him. His eyes were locked on yours, his gaze filled with raw desire and adoration.
“C’est ça… tu te sens bien, n’est-ce pas?” (That's it... you feel good, don't you?) he murmured, his voice low and encouraging.
“Oui, Charles,” you gasped, your movements growing more frantic as you chased your release. “You’re so deep.”
“You’re being so good for me,” he praised, his grip tightening on your hips. “Is this your gift to me, yeah?”
“Oui, it’s all for you,” you whimpered, your hands resting on his flushed chest for support.
His hand slid from your hip to your thigh, encouraging you to move faster. “That’s right… use me… get yourself off.”
The intensity of his gaze, the feel of his hands on your skin, it all combined to drive you higher and higher until you were teetering on the edge. With a final, desperate moan, you came undone, your body shuddering around him as waves of pleasure washed over you.
Charles held you through it, his own release following closely as he watched you fall apart on top of him. His groan of satisfaction was music to your ears, and you collapsed against him, your body spent and trembling.
But he wasn’t done yet. With a gleam in his eye, Charles rolled you over gently, positioning you beneath him on the couch. He brushed a strand of hair from your face, his expression tender yet filled with desire.
“I want to see you fall apart for me again,” he whispered, his voice sending shivers down your spine. “Let me make you feel even better. Let me have a taste”
Your breath hitched as he moved down your body, his lips trailing hot kisses over your skin. He paused, his eyes meeting yours as he kissed a path between your breasts, down to your stomach. Every touch, every kiss was electric, setting your nerves on fire.
“Charles, please,” you breathed, your hands tangling in his hair as he kissed his way down to the apex of your thighs.
He grinned, his fingers parting your folds as his tongue flicked out, teasing your sensitive clit. The sensation was almost too much, your back arching off the couch as he lavished attention on you, his tongue and fingers working in perfect harmony to drive you to the brink once more.
Your moans filled the room, your hands clutching at the cushions as he pushed you higher and higher. He looked up, his eyes locking with yours as he murmured against your skin, “Come for me, mon amour. I want to feel you again.”
His words, combined with the relentless pleasure he was giving you, sent you over the edge. Your orgasm crashed over you, your body trembling as he continued to lick and suck, drawing out every last wave of pleasure.
When you finally came down, he crawled back up your body, kissing you deeply. You could taste yourself on his lips, a reminder of just how intimately he knew your body.
“I love watching you fall apart,” he whispered against your lips, his voice filled with awe and desire. “You’re so beautiful.”
You pulled him closer, your body still humming with the aftershocks of your release. “I love you, Charles.”
He smiled, brushing his lips against yours. “I love you too, more than anything.”He wrapped his arms around you, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “Thank you, mon amour. The night was perfect.”
You smiled against his chest, feeling the steady beat of his heart beneath your cheek. “You deserve it, Charles. I’m so proud of you.”
He stroked your hair, his touch tender and loving. “I couldn’t have done it without you. You’re my good luck charm.”
You lifted your head to look at him, your fingers tracing the lines of his jaw. “And you’re my champion.”
Charles chuckled, pulling you into a deep, lingering kiss. “Here’s to many more victories, both on and off the track.”
You nodded, feeling content and loved in his arms. “To many more, Charles.”
Exhausted but blissfully content, you cuddled together on the couch, not bothering to go upstairs. The warmth of each other’s bodies, the rhythm of your breaths, and the unspoken bond of love and victory lulled you both into a peaceful sleep, a perfect end to an unforgettable day.
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threbe · 6 months ago
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Arthur Feeling for Merlin
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Art by ( suzuen )
I'm questioning whether or not Arthur in seven deadly sins and a four nights is in love with Merlin short answer is I'm like 80% sure he is in love with her sadly and considering how nakuba does the writing for Arthur and Merlin at times I just feel so scared of what could happen in the future I don't really want to see a ship happen between these two even though they are both in their 30s, and it's kind of weird cuz Merlin raised Arthur I do think he has an unrequited love for her that maybe in seven sins he didn't realize it was love but maybe is he got older between seven sins and four nights he realized he was in love with her maybe confessed to her at one point I don't know we probably won't get up back story till the end of this manga like with the first one
Iv seen a lot of post over the years about Merlin's feelings for Arthur and a few one Arthur feelings but nobody's really going into deep explanation as to how and why certain characters feel certain things or if they have a lot of those older post I've seen are deleted so I've decided to make my own I didn't want to do this for a while I just haven't had time
🟠perralles between escanor and Arthur
❤️Royalty,power,and they're love for merlin
🟣Royalty
I know you're probably wondering why bring up escanor and Arthur well they have a lot of parallels a lot of people have talked about them before but I don't see it discussed as much as it used to be but there are a lot there was even a point I thought
Maybe they were possibly related like now that we know in the current story that Arthur isn't a pin dragon by blood it could be possible that maybe escanor was Arthur's uncle like maybe his brother survived and had a kid and that kid turned out to be Arthur but this is just me guessing or making up a theory so let's get into the parallels between them
🩷
Both Arthur and escanor are the second son of a royal family from the south though Arthur was adopted into the royal family of Camelot he ended up becoming its king I'm not sure why his older brother kay wasn't picked to be king but maybe in Camelot you have to prove yourself by doing a heroic task to be the king maybe it's not by bloodline, or people really just saw that kay was a spoiled brat and did not want him on the throne 😅
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And as you can tell both escanor and Arthur's older siblings didn't seem to like them much and as we saw in escanor's flashbacks in the anime and I believe even the manga his older brother was abusive towards him and during one of his abusive attacks escanor unlocked sunshine and hurt his older brother
I'm not sure when it was revealed I would have to go back and look or see if it was maybe in a q&a but it was revealed that escanor's Kingdom that he originally came from was destroyed by Viking Invaders got caught in a war and was destroyed
And as we all know from the seven deadly sins series Arthur's home Camelot was destroyed sadly
Escanor had no interest in his home since everyone including his own parents turned on him the only person he had to look to for comfort and Hope was his caretaker/aid I believe who watched over him Rosa, but as we know Rosa passed away because
escanor went and visited her in the capital of the Dead and then at some point later on escanor meets Merlin and falls in love with her but not just because she looks like Rosa because as he said she saw him as his own person and never truly treated him like a monster
Same with Arthur kinda,king Uther was busy being King so probably didn't have much time for even his own biological son kay,let alone Arthur and not sure if Arthur had friends or not when he was younger
Cuz we've only had a side chapter to explore his backstory when he was younger we still don't even know how he met Merlin outside of cover art an few flash back panels scattered throughout 300+
chapters, I'm hoping at some point in four nights we get more on Arthur and Merlin's backstory and how they met because why was Merlin just allowed to take Arthur because he's not a biological child of the throne maybe and they were okay with her adopting him or something it's never been clarified and I'm confused about this still to this day.
My theory is that like in all king Arthur story Arthur is still king Uther son by blood but he adopted Arthur so no one would know he had a child outside his marriage to cover everything up and his affair
🟠Power
As we now escanor had sunshine a power/Grace that came from the supreme deity and with this power in the daytime! Physical appearance and a personality change but at night he was his normal self
☀️
🌌
And then there's Arthur who has chaos and as we can see in the sequel series similar to how eskenor's power Sunshine changed his personality chaos has completely changed Arthur's personality after he consumed more of it
And as much as people hate to hear this between the two of them Arthur is the more powerful he has chaos which is the power to create and control reality itself chaos the being itself created all of the races but the races that resemble chaos the most were humans and due to that the supreme deity
and demon King who were also created by chaos fear that they wouldn't be loved or favorite and sealed chaos away Merlin found out about chaos and spent 3,000 years dedicating her life to finding the next Wilder of chaos who will wield it perfectly and as we know hawk mama was chaos itself and she was even in Camelot around the same time Merlin met Arthur
(go to the wiki on mama hawk it tells you she was in Camelot 10 years ago around the time the seven deadly sins were all framed for the murder of the head night Gill thunders father, in Merlin was also in Camelot around that time cuz she met Arthur whenhe was five I believe Mama hawk was there because Arthur the new host of chaos was there but at some point she met meliodas and he ended up taking hawk and hawk mama with him as he traveled around looking for the other sins and made the bar hat, although I wish they had been better foreshadowing that hawk mama was chaos I think we got to throw a line line in the movie that she was the mother of chaos but we hadn't heard of chaos any other part of the story before the chaos are so it just feels like bad foreshadowing)
but I don't think Merlin learned where chaos was stored so maybe during her travels with Arthur I don't know this is just me guessing it was never explained how Merlin knew that hawk mama was the mother of chaos is she called her in the first seven deadly sins movie
Arthur chaos power has consumed his original personality like how escanor personality was somewhat consumed by sunshine
🔵
And merlin
Do I think escanor loves Rosa yes the same way I believe unfortunately that Arthur does love Merlin the same way I think I've said this before even this post or another but it wasn't really uncommon for the time that the story is set in for people to fall in love with older people in their lives such as tutors and mentors and even older cousins 🤢 or relatives or a family in-laws or older family friends
It's even still kind of like that today we're older people want to not really date in their own age range but date someone older because they feel that they have more answers or a bit more maturity to them and that people around their own age just don't have anything they're looking for
But an escanor and even Arthur's case Rosa and Merlin were their soul caretaker who took care of them and risked their lives for them unconditionally
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Already talked about how escanor fell for merlin but he didn't just fall for her because she looked like Rosa he fell from Merlin as he got to know her over time and I believe the same happened let Arthur but
I'm going to try to look at this from both Merlin and Arthur's point of view from Merlin's point of view Arthur is someone she loves and cherished not just as a student but like a child maybe although it hasn't really been said that's just the feeling you kind of get through her body language and how much she cares for Arthur we still don't know much about Arthur and Merlin's past we've only gotten pieces that's led up to the current day with the fake Merlin and Camelot that sorry for spoilers is no longer around cuz Arthur killed her off after
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plot device
🤭 (sorry ) Guinevere called Arthur out for making what she thought was an illusion of Merlin but was actually a fairy he captured that he had take on Merlin's form since she's no longer with him for some reason
There another think to merlins other love interest meliodas and both escanor
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Although Merlin wasn't able to reciprocate eskenor's feelings she did kiss him goodbye and keep the burns that show that he was alive and it's proof that there was one man alive who loved her we also know due to 3,000 years ago and The holy war she met meliodas and fell in love with him but he already had Elizabeth
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And I seen people ask before and even talked about it another post people have asked with Merlin still have searched for chaos if maybe she had met eskenor 3000 years ago or even if she had fallen in love and meliodas that loved her back and the answer is yes Merlin is a curious person she's the type of person that like she did with the seven deadly sins would have went by behind their back in order to search for chaos to feel her own curiosity so even if her lover had been meliodas or escanor 3000 years ago she still would have looked for chaos even if she had met eskenor 3000 years ago he's still human he would have died eventually maybe in his late 60s-80s like most humans do
So even after his death she still would have looked for chaos to get over her sadness
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And then when it comes to Arthur love for merlin
Do I think Arthur's in love with Merlin 😮‍💨
The thing for me on one hand I think chaos is taking Arthur's ideas and feelings too far I don't think he had maybe ever wanted to bring people back but if he got corrupted by the fragment of chaos he absorbed and made him want to bring people back do I think he probably loves Merlin yes 😐 and now maybe there are some unrequired feelings he never realized he had that of come to the surface and it's coming off as love
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On the other hand he could fully be in love with her cuz like I said earlier in this post people have been known in this time The story set in to fall for their mentors and older people and looking back at the
story we never really saw or got to see Arthur interact with people of his kingdom or if he had friends or anything or even see him interact with his brother or even meet his sister Morgana lafaye if she's in the story at all we didn't see him get to form any relationships with anyone around his age the only other person around Arthur's age was Elizabeth but her soul character was tied to meliodas and the sins and her curse I wish we could have seen a
friendship develop between Arthur Elizabeth go through and maybe some of the other younger characters like Jericho as well that would have been cool and it could have been set up Jericho working for Arthur down the line cuz I don't think they ever met or even know each other at all in the story looking back I think they talked once the same time Arthur met escanor and that's the only interaction they ever had,
it also has me wondering about eskenor's jealousy towards Arthur, like some others have said I always stop asking or jealousy towards Arthur was a bit odd I think it would only be natural for Merlin to care for Arthur because like I said she sees him as a student / child of her own I don't think she has any romantic feelings for him maybe ,
but maybe even though they met once maybe due to how Merlin seems so attached to Arthur and said how she felt like Arthur was her hope and then later on in the chapter after Arthur's got stabbed with Excalibur well being mind-controlled
escanor over here Merlin's talk about how important Arthur was to her the same way meliodas is important to Elizabeth that could be interpreted as loves from an outside point of view which I think escanor did
maybe Arthur even overheard this in his unconscious state of sleep and is mistaking Merlin's feelings for love after all
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looking back Merlin has been there for so many important moments in the story with Arthur from him getting stabbed with Excalibur to him getting chaos and even them going to lions in the first arc
Even though I don't like it and I hope this doesn't come up but considering how nakuba does his writing in this story
we're going to find out that Arthur is indeed probably in Love with Merlin and this probably for me when it comes to the story and how nakuba does his characters in relationships in nanatsu no taizai and four knights,
it's a big 80% we'll see that Arthur loves her and at some point either confessed to Merlin had feelings for Merlin just never said anything because he learned that Merlin was in love with meliodas
I'm sure at some point Arthur even asked Merlin about the burns on her face and she probably told him what happened with escanor,
because again looking back at it we saw in the save by light movie Merlin had her face covered and I thought that was weird I didn't think it was Merlin but from what I was told it was her
maybe at some point Merlin noticed that Arthur seem bothered by the burns on her face so she covered it
but when it comes to the fake Merlin that was in 4knights Camelot we never got to see her full face but what if her face just looked normal like Merlin used to before she got the kiss burns on her face and even if maybe she still did have the burns on the fake version of Merlin maybe that's why the her face was covered because Arthur never liked those Burns he was jealous that escanor got to kiss Merlin and
eave a mark on her that was everlasting and he might not be ever be able to get the chance do I think Arthur is in love with Merlin sadly yes do I think it'll come up in the story also sadly yes do I think it's going to lead to anything big possibly like a said before considering who's writing the story Arthur being in love with Merlin might have been used as a way to show Guinevere and how sassy she could be and even upset Arthur to the point
where he destroyed the fake illusion that was over the ferry and killed the fairy he even mentioned how he was starting to consider her as the real thing but at the end of the day we're going to see Merlin again and she and Arthur are going to come face to face and he's either going to confess to her or Merlin's already going to know Arthur's feelings and have probably already rejected him and he's probably still not over it
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I used to ship Merlin and Arthur and when I saw that they were still together in four nights I was actually happy but then going back rereading the story again after a few years cuz I hadn't read in a long time and then reading four nights up to where I think at the time I started reading it was on chapter 40 I realized I no longer shipped or life to the idea of Merlin and Arthur being together because I completely had forgotten cuz I hadn't read it in a long time that Merlin was secretly a 13-14year-old I do have a theory that maybe Merlin undead her ceiling spell and maybe if she could start to age like a normal human and that way by the time she and Arthur were a bit older they would be in their twenties at the same time and then and their actual 30s at the same time as well even though technically she is thousands of years old Merlin would be 22 or 23 when Arthur 26 and that would also add up kind of in the timeline cuz I was trying to piece the timeline together based off of what some other characters have said in the story as to when Arthur started acting weird so I'm wondering if Merlin maybe did start to age alongside Arthur and he developed feelings for her in that sense as well could something have happened between now or maybe Merlin was no longer in her kid form and actually did age and go until adulthood from the same time as Arthur maybe they had a kid together I don't know this is just a random theory that I kind of also hope doesn't come true but still thought I'd share it
Sorry this is so long
And if it's there a certain parts on repeating myself for a few parts I maybe don't make a complete sense it's because I kept getting interrupted while trying to type this out sorry ,,😮‍💨
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ak319 · 3 months ago
Note
Haii!, I really like your Arthur Morgan series and I've also read it several times and it's not boring at all!🫶🏻
Can I make a request? If so, can you make the reader jealous because Arthur is close to Mary Beth?🫶🏻 (Arthur and the reader's relationship is not platonic!)
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(AN: Tsym! Remind me why we making Y/n suffer again? PS: I'm terrible at writing jealousy shit ngl and I legit dunno why. AND THATS LIT WHAT YALL KEPT ASKING FOR-😭☠) Hope yall enjoy reading lol)
Warnings/MDNI: None, just angst and then fluff to soothe your asses-
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You were by the lake, lazily washing clothes. The day had you feeling sluggish, and the pleasant weather didn’t exactly help motivate you. The water was just the right temperature, cool enough to refresh but warm enough to keep you rooted in place. You should really pick up the pace, finish up, and grab some tea--or coffee--or a well-deserved break.
The faint hum of camp activity behind you was oddly comforting, a soothing backdrop to your thoughts. That is until you heard footsteps crunching on the gravel, quick and impatient, followed by a sharp curse.
“Dammit! I’ve been lookin’ everywhere for you, girl.”
You glanced over your shoulder, grinning as Molly stormed up to you, her face a mix of exasperation and something else you couldn’t quite place.
“For God’s sake, Molly, you know my Tuesday routine by now,” you teased, tossing a wet shirt into the basket beside you. “It’s not like this camp is big enough to lose someone. Honestly, I think you’re just bad at looking.”
She didn’t laugh. Not even a crack of a smile. Instead, she stood there, arms crossed, her expression tight with barely-contained frustration. You paused mid-scrub, a curious eyebrow raised.
“What’s gotten into you? You look ready to murder someone.”
“Oh, sure,” she snapped, voice dripping with sarcasm. “Leave it to ever-so-clueless (Y/N) to not notice a damn thing going on around her.” She gestured wildly toward the camp as though you were missing some grand spectacle.
You blinked, thoroughly confused. “What the hell are you on about?”
Her eyes narrowed, and for a moment, she hesitated as if debating whether you were even worth the explanation. Then, with a dramatic huff, she took a step closer, glaring down at you like you’d personally wronged her.
“Let me spell it out for you. Do I even bother tellin’ you what’s happening? Or should I just assume it won’t make a difference because your ‘dearest cold heart’ won’t care? Or worse, you’ll just laugh it off like you always do!”
Your hands stilled in the water, the soap slipping through your fingers. “What the fuck are you talking about?”
"Y’know, what I just heard and saw?” Molly huffed, throwing her hands in the air for emphasis. “Mr. Arthur Morgan, having a chat with Mary-Beth. Mary-Beth! That same snake who’s all over Dutch, and now, apparently, your man, (Y/N)!”
Her voice rose with each word, and you blinked, caught completely off guard. She leaned in, her eyes narrowing as if trying to gauge your reaction. “I swear to God, she was asking him to buy her another one of those silly romance books for her lovesick brain. I mean, why Arthur, huh? Why doesn’t she go pester Kieran’s ass instead?”
Hearing her rant, you stood up, gripping the damp shirt in your hands as you processed her words. “Wh--sounds like a friendly chat to me, Molly,” you said, trying to brush it off with a shrug. “I mean, Arthur brings stuff for everyone. He goes out the most, doesn’t he? And, well, Kieran… he’s not exactly allowed far from camp neither he can afford anything right now. They still don’t trust him, y’know. And Arthur, he’s like a brother to Mary-Beth-"
“Don’t even start with that ‘brother’ shit, (Y/N),” Molly snapped, cutting you off. “It's just a facade.”
Your mouth fell open, heat rushing to your face at the implication. Uncertainty clawed at your chest as you tried to stammer a response, but she wasn’t done. Molly’s jealousy toward Mary Beth only seemed to fuel her fire, her words coming quicker now, sharp and biting.
“And don’t act like it couldn’t happen. You think she doesn’t see how kind he is to you? How he looks at you when he thinks no one’s watching? Oh, she sees it. And she’d snatch him up the moment she gets the chance.”
You clenched your jaw, her words making you shift uncomfortably. Sure, you trusted Arthur, but the venom in Molly’s tone, the way her words seemed to twist around your insecurities, left you feeling just the slightest bit unsteady.
"Did he even say goodbye to you before he sprang into action?” Molly pressed, her voice softer now, almost pitying. “And the other day, weren’t you telling me you needed some cream for your hands? You even told him, and look, just look at your hands.”
Her gaze dropped to your chapped and reddened fingers, and you instinctively tried to wipe them dry on your skirt, as if that would somehow make them better. Her words were digging deeper now, clawing at something vulnerable in you. Did he forget to bring it? Or worse, did he not care enough to remember? Had your wishes, his woman’s wishes, stopped mattering to him altogether?
“This is bullshit, you should have run away with that pen pal of yours, to be honest when you had the chance,” Molly muttered, crossing her arms. “You didn’t listen to me when I told you she’s after Dutch. And now she’s after both! I swear, those books she reads must be teaching her these tactics. Manipulative little-"
“I--y’know what?” you cut her off, your voice suddenly firm as your gaze drifted to the camp, your eyes narrowing.
“What?” Molly asked, surprised by your sudden shift in tone.
“Let’s just go,” you said, your voice laced with resolve.
“Go where?”
“Town.”
Without waiting for her to argue, you kicked the bucket of soapy water, sending it tumbling into the river, the suds spilling out and disappearing downstream. The laundry lay abandoned on the grass as you turned and marched toward the stables, Molly following close behind.
Damn everyone, then.
❀˖°
Arthur returned to camp, expecting to find you in his tent as usual. But when he stepped inside, the familiar space felt oddly empty. A frown tugged at his lips.
"Hey... um, Sadie?" he called out, spotting her near the campfire. "You seen (Y/N)?"
Sadie glanced up from sharpening her knife. "Oh, yeah. She and Molly went to town."
"What?!" The word escaped him before he could stop it, his voice louder than he intended. Clearing his throat, he muttered a quick, “Thanks,” and walked back to his tent, feeling heat rise to his face. He slumped down onto his cot with a heavy sigh, running a hand through his hair.
You know how he felt about you going far from camp without him, even if you were with one of the girls. It wasn’t a matter of trust, it was fear.
And still you did.
There were too many dangers out there, too many things that could go wrong, and the thought of you out there without him stirred a storm in his chest.
It was 5 p.m., the time when you two usually sat together to talk about your day over supper. The time he looked forward to most whenever he was at camp. And now? He sat there, staring at the flap of his tent, the minutes ticking by painfully slow.
But what bothered him more was why you’d gone. And with Molly, of all people. It wasn’t that he didn’t like her, he didn’t have a problem with her, not really. But something about the way you two were together always set him on edge.
He’d told you how he felt about it once. About how Molly seemed to lean on you a little too much, how her sadness and drama sometimes seemed to pull you down with her. But of course, you’d defended her, saying you couldn’t just turn your back on your best friend. That Molly found her only comfort in your company.
And you were right. He knew you were. But that didn’t make it any easier to sit here, waiting, imagining where you were and what could happen.
Arthur let out a frustrated sigh, his appetite gone. Instead of heading to the campfire for supper, he threw himself onto his cot, pulling his hat over his face in an attempt to block out the growing worry gnawing at his chest.
But even with his eyes closed, he couldn’t shake the unease. Images of you and Molly wandering through town, far from the safety of camp, flickered in his mind. He trusted you, of course, but the world out there? That was another story entirely.
“Damn woman never listens to me,” he muttered under his breath, his voice tinged with equal parts frustration and concern.
Sleep didn’t come easily, and even as he tried to rest, he knew one thing for certain, when you came back, this was a conversation he wasn’t going to let slide.
❀˖°
Arthur woke with a start, roused by Bill’s loud guffaw somewhere in the camp. With a groan, he rubbed his face, taking a moment to shake off the haze of sleep and piece together his scattered thoughts. Then it hit him, the memory of you leaving with Molly, and the worry twisted sharply in his chest again.
He pushed himself up with a sigh, his body stiff from the restless nap. Moving through camp, he glanced around, hoping, praying, to catch sight of you. But there was nothing. No sign of you or Molly.
He considered asking Dutch, but dismissed the thought just as quickly. Dutch would likely know even less than he did, and Arthur wasn’t in the mood for meaningless chatter.
Back at his tent, he sat on the edge of his cot, pulling out his journal in an attempt to distract himself. The flap of the tent was open, giving him a clear view of camp, but his eyes kept flickering toward it, waiting for you to appear.
His stomach growled, but he ignored it. He wasn’t going to eat, not until you came back, served the meal, and sat down beside him. That was how it went. That was how it had to go.
He was about to get up and go to find both of you himself when-
"Um, Arthur?" Abigail’s voice broke through his brooding. She appeared by the flap of his tent, holding a coffee pot. "There’s some coffee left, and I’ve got to wash the pot, would you like a cup?"
He shook his head, barely sparing her a glance. "Why’d they go to town?"
"Molly and (Y/N)?" Abigail tilted her head, her tone casual. "Oh, they’ve been back. Got back about half an hour ago. They’re in my tent, just hanging out."
Arthur blinked, first in shock, then confusion, which quickly morphed into anger. Half an hour? You’d been back for that long and hadn’t even bothered to come see him? Not even a word after being gone all day?
He shut his journal with a snap, the sound echoing his rising temper, and stood. The muffled chatter coming from Abigail’s tent grated on his nerves as he stalked toward it, each step heavier than the last.
What the hell was going on with you?
He cleared his throat outside the tent before pushing the flap open, only to find you and Molly sitting cross-legged, enjoying supper.
"Where were you? I was waiting for you."
You swallowed your bite, not bothering to look up at him. "Needed a few important things from town, actually, so I had to go."
Arthur’s jaw tightened. "Can you come with me? I want to talk."
"I’m already talking to Molly," you replied, your tone curt, still avoiding his gaze.
Damn it. Why the hell weren’t you even looking at him? That gnawing frustration in his chest boiled over. He had enough of this.
"I said, Come. With. Me." he demanded, his voice low but firm, the tone sharper than he intended.
Your head snapped up, eyes glaring at him with such intensity that, for a moment, he regretted using that tone. Hell, he’d be lying if he said it didn’t scare him just a little.
"Oh, excuse me, Mister. Don’t you dare order me around like a maid, alright? I sit, talk, and walk when I want to. And right now? I don’t want to. Now go away, we’re busy."
Arthur ignored Molly’s taunting scoff, still fixated on you. Something about this--about you--just didn’t sit right.
"I’m sorry, okay? I’m just hungry. I was waiting for you... Can we eat now?" Arthur’s chest tightened, guilt creeping in. He rubbed the back of his neck, his anger softening. "...I was just worried as hell."
Hell, I still am.
But you didn’t let it go. "I’ve already eaten, and I didn’t ask you to wait for me. There are plenty of people around here you can share your meal with, Arthur. Plenty."
You turned your attention back to Molly, flashing her a rueful grin with your hair covering your face but he definitely caught it.
The Irishwoman gave you a knowing smile, her voice full of mischief. "Oh, girl, there’s always someone around."
This is how it's gonna be huh?
His first instinct was to walk away, but no. Arthur wasn’t the type to run from problems. With one swift movement, he grabbed your arm and dragged you out and behind the tent, just past the tree line. He stared down at you, his expression a mix of annoyance and desperation.
"What the hell is that all about?! And you know I hate it when you go out alone-"
"I don’t care! I don’t care anymore!" you snapped, your voice shaking with anger. "I hate going out for some petty stuff too, which, by the way, I clearly asked you to get, and you forgot! I guess books are more important than me, huh?."
Arthur’s chest tightened. He rarely saw this side of you ever since you both got together, the frustration, the hurt, the coldness. "See, this is the problem," you continued, your voice rising. "When men find someone vulnerable enough to control, to fix, they get bored. Then they move on, find someone else to repeat the same damn cycle. Am I right?"
His mouth went dry. The words cut deep. But what hurt him the most was the thought that maybe... maybe you believed that.
He wasn’t asking for much, was he? Three meals with you, a cup of coffee, that was it. Simple things that made him feel like you cared. That made him feel loved. But you didn’t... or did you?
The silence between you two was deafening as he tried to process what you said.
"What are you talking about?" Arthur started, his frustration mounting. "See, this is why I don’t like when you and Molly-"
"Oh, no, no, no. Shush. Don’t you dare," you interrupted, your voice sharp, but there was a deep hurt behind it. "She’s always been right, Arthur. I was the dumb one. I’ve been working my ass off for you, and you didn’t even bother to say goodbye this morning, huh?"
Arthur froze, guilt beginning to gnaw at him. He wasn’t ready for this. "You know, I had a chance to leave this life, you know exactly who I’m talking about. But I didn’t. I chose you. But if I’m just gonna be sidelined like this? Nuh-uh. My ego doesn’t allow it. Nobody gets to disrespect me like that."
You took a deep breath, eyes blazing. "If you don’t want me anymore, then say it. Don’t play these stupid-ass games with me. I’m not Molly, not when it comes to this."
Arthur’s stomach dropped as the weight of your words settled in. He could feel the hurt radiating off of you, the betrayal that had built up. And now it made sense. Molly had probably warned you, just like she always did. He could almost hear her saying it a dozen times in the morning,
'Don’t let him treat you like that, they are all shit.'
"There is NOTHING like that, woman!" Arthur snapped, his voice rising in frustration. "Is that what this is about? You’re ready to just forget, hell, even think like this over a misunderstanding?"
"Call it whatever you want," you replied coldly, not backing down. "But not gonna lie, the pattern makes sense now, Arthur."
He took a step back, trying to steady his breath, forcing himself to calm down. "Don’t say that... c’mon. You know it’s not true! She’s like a sister to me! For God’s sake, how can you even think--"
Without another word, you grabbed his satchel, the leather creaking in your grip, and flipped it upside down. A book slid out and thudded onto the ground.
Arthur froze, his eyes darting to the book, then to the scattered contents of his bag. He watched, his heart sinking, as you threw the satchel aside in disgust. "Bravo," you muttered, the bitterness in your voice sharper than a knife.
"Don't even bother explaining. I’m tired." You began to walk away, but before you could get far, Arthur grabbed your wrist.
"Don't you dare, no way you’re... sleeping away from me." His voice started strong, then faltered into a desperate plea, but you didn’t turn around. With a sharp jerk, you freed your hand from his grasp and continued walking.
Arthur stood there for a moment, his breath heavy as he watched you leave. With a defeated sigh, he bent down to gather the scattered contents of his satchel. Tilly approached, offering to help, but he shrugged her off with a tired wave and handed the book over to Mary-Beth, who was standing a few feet away, her face filled with guilt and sadness. His hand lingered in his pocket for a moment, pulling out the cream he had meant to bring you, adding it to the pile with a sharp scoff.
His posture was slumped, his movements slow and burdened. He didn’t need to say anything, his body language alone was enough to tell Tilly, Mary-Beth, and anyone else watching that this sulking would last for days, and you... you weren’t someone who accepted apologies easily.
❀˖°
And that’s exactly what happened. Arthur waited every day, hoping you would just come, sit with him, and listen. He longed for you to let him explain, to sort things out, so he could hold you in his arms again. Dammit. He missed you at night like a child misses their favorite doll.
But you weren’t just any doll.
You were his doll.
And when it came to you, he was nothing but a man-child.
Everybody knew his routine, the gang enforcer's routine. Simple, predictable. Come back, chat a little, handle his business, talk and eat with you, then the tent flaps closed, just the two of you, a world away from the chaos of the camp.
But now?
Come back, brood in one corner, pace to another, sleep with the flaps wide open.
Arthur’s mood soured every time he saw you doing something that wasn’t just being with him. Chores, errands, anything that took you away, even for a moment, made him restless, agitated. He needed you with him, in the tent, with the flaps closed, where he could hold you, even if it was just in the silence of the night.
Every night, he asked you to come with him. But you ignored him. Yet, he kept asking, unable to stop the desperate hope that you’d return, that you’d see it the way he did.
"Damnit. Damn stubborn ass woman." He grumbled for what? The millionth time? Sighing he petted his horse as it trotted at a leisurely pace, just a few meters from camp. How the hell had it all gone so bad? What was even the point anymore? Are you happy now?
His horse huffed as if sensing his despair, nudging him gently, but Arthur barely acknowledged it. The familiar sound of the camp in the distance only served to remind him that nothing was the same anymore, not the meals, not the quiet talks, and certainly not the comfort of his cot. That's it. This ends tonight.
He is going to carry you over his shoulder if that takes you to talk to him. To hell with your protests and stubbornness.
You were crouched down, sorting through vegetables with Abigail, your hands busy with the task at hand.
It wasn’t long before you saw Molly moving quietly, eyes darting back and forth, heading toward the girls' area.
You knew Molly. You had spent enough time with her to understand that when her instincts kicked in, she often acted before she thought. There was an impulsive streak in her, a tendency to let her emotions guide her steps, and that could be dangerous. Especially now, when tensions were already high.
Without much thought, you excused yourself from Abigail, your voice quick and unsteady. “I’ll be right back.”
You left her with the vegetables and slipped away from the campfire, your steps light as you tried to stay out of sight. Moving quietly, you found a small, hidden spot behind a tent, where you could just make out the faint sounds of voices, though you couldn’t yet hear clearly what was being said. Your heart pounded in your chest.
"(Y/N) and I were so close, in fact, like sisters, but you ruined that too! I don’t know what you told her-" Mary-Beth’s voice cracked, and for the first time, it wasn’t the usual calm, polite tone she carried. There was raw emotion, maybe even a hint of fear, but more than that, it sounded like heartbreak.
"You did it! Just like you're trying to ruin my relationship with Dutch."
"Are you in your senses, Ms. Molly?!" Mary-Beth gasped, trying to defend herself. "How can you even think that?!"
The past few days, you couldn’t help but notice her glances at you, brief but meaningful. It was as if she was caught between wanting to reach out and not knowing if you’d welcome her presence. Her eyes would meet yours across the camp, filled with a mixture of concern and hesitation, as if she longed to approach, to console you, but the fear of intruding, of making things worse, kept her frozen in place.
You understood her hesitation. She was a kind soul, someone who cared deeply for those she loved, and in these tense moments, you knew she wasn’t sure how to navigate the space between you both. And neither did you try to clear the air.
"You and your pretty face are going to be your downfa-"
"Molly, enough." You stepped in, your voice firm. Molly turned to you, arms crossed over her chest, her face filled with frustration.
"(Y/N), don’t tell me you’re under her spell too, for God’s sake. She needs to get a reality check-"
"Molly," you interjected, stepping forward and gently taking hold of her arms. You guided her a few steps away from Mary-Beth, the tension between them thick. "Let me handle it, alright?"
"Don’t pity her, let me make that clear. Otherwise, you’ll be the one regretting it." Molly threw one last angry glance at Mary-Beth, shaking her head before storming off, muttering under her breath.
You stood there, a heavy sigh escaping you as you rubbed your forehead, watching Molly retreat. Turning back to Mary-Beth, who sat on the ground, you softened your expression. "I apologize on her behalf..." You couldn’t help but feel the weight of the situation. You knew you’d have to work hard to get Molly to let go of her anger, but that's for later.
"It's... alright, (Y/N)." Her voice croaked, and you didn’t miss the tremble in it, nor the quiet tears she tried to hide. Your gaze shifted to the book resting on the makeshift table in the corner. The one she had requested. You swallowed hard, a knot forming in your throat.
"You’re not reading it?" you asked, your voice gentle.
She looked up at you, shaking her head slowly. You could see the weight of her emotions pressing down on her, and it hurt to see her like this.
You walked over, picked up the book, and sat beside her. "Why not?" you asked softly. It caught her off guard, and for a moment, her eyes softened. She hesitated before returning the smile, albeit faintly, her sadness still lingering behind it.
"I am sorry... (Y/N), if you... if you misunderstood my actions, but I swear it’s nothing. There’s nobody else, except Mr. Morgan that we feel comfortable enough to ask for things... but if you mind it, then we won’t--"
"No. No. You can ask without hesitation, and I am sorry. I was quick to jump to... conclusions," you interrupted, your voice soft with regret. You hugged her, and she gladly returned the embrace. The warmth of her arms around you soothed the tension in your chest.
You placed the book gently in her lap and shifted your body closer, not wanting to break the moment. "I just... y'know... when I love someone, I do it fully. And I don’t tolerate when that gets disrespected, y'know? That’s one thing I will never forgive." Your voice trembled slightly, the depth of your feelings evident. "But anyway, do read it, and then we’ll have a chat about it. You know I love hearing you yap about your books more than reading them myself."
She chuckled softly, her eyes lighting up with a glimmer of her old self, and you watched her face brighten as she held the book. You stood up, feeling a sense of relief, but also a lingering desire to stay.
"Definitely. But for now, I must go work too, don’t want Susan to bury me alive."
"You better." As you were making your way back to the kitchen wagon, a figure stepped in your way.
"Am I forgiven too?" His voice was teasing, but his expression was genuine. You deadpanned, folding your arms.
"Ummmm... let me think about it," you replied with a mock thoughtful expression, your gaze narrowing slightly.
He mirrored your posture, folding his arms with a smirk. "Not fair, woman. Not fair."
"I never said I was." You gave him a pointed look before turning to walk past him.
As you continued your walk back to the kitchen wagon, you felt a lightness in the air, a shift that felt... right. Arthur, still a few steps behind you, watched you quietly with an almost childish pout. There was something about the way his gaze lingered on you that told you he was waiting, waiting for you to acknowledge it all, to say what neither of you had dared to say yet.
You stopped for a moment, as you placed the cutting board, and turned to face him. The sunlight caught the edges of his hair, giving him a softer, not to mention the dark circles, giving him a more vulnerable look than you’d seen before. There was no teasing now, no masks, just Arthur, looking at you like he was seeing you for the first time again.
"I’m sorry, too," you said softly, your voice almost a whisper. "For the things I said."
He took a step closer, his eyes never leaving yours. "I don’t like it either. I swear, I’d rather fight a hundred men than have you angry at me. But..." His hand reached out hesitantly, as though unsure whether he had the right to touch you, to pull you close. "I don’t know what I’d do without you. And I apologize too...for making you feel that way. But I swear it wasn't in my intention."
A warmth spread through your chest at his words. It wasn’t the grand gestures or flowery promises that touched you. It was the simplicity of it, the honesty in his voice, the vulnerability he rarely let show. "Well then let me tell you that," you whispered back, a soft smile tugging at your lips. "I’m not going anywhere."
With a relieved exhale, Arthur stepped forward, his arms wrapping around you firmly, pulling you into his chest. It was as though all the tension from before melted away, and in its place, there was just the comforting rhythm of his heartbeat against yours. "I love you," he murmured into your hair, the words so familiar now, but somehow more precious each time.
You nestled into his embrace, letting your worries fade for the moment, feeling a sense of peace settle over you. "I love you, too," you replied, your voice barely above a breath, but you meant it with everything you had.
"Y'know darlin'...I was very close to shootin' myself if I had to sleep on the cold bed any longer. It took strength to control myself and not drag you out-" You rolled your eyes and pulled away.
"Right, now go away, I have work to do."
"Absolutely not. To hell with these damn chores. You are coming with me."
You shot him a skeptical glance, hands on your hips as you paused in your tracks. "Really?" you said, raising an eyebrow.
A grin tugged at the corners of his lips as he stepped closer, his broad frame encroaching on your space. "What do you think, darlin'?" he teased, his hands coming up to cradle your face, nearly squishing it with playful force. He gave your head a gentle shake, his eyes sparkling with mischief. "It’s been too damn long. You’ve had me sleeping like a corpse for days. You cruel woman."
You tried to hold back the laugh that bubbled up in your chest, but his determination was infectious "Fine," you muttered, giving in more to his presence than anything else. He grinned, his hands reaching for you, pulling you effortlessly toward the flap of his tent.
"Atta girl." His voice held a triumphant edge, but it was softened with affection.
And finally, after days, the enforcer's tent flaps were closed at night--and so was the distance between you two.
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(AN: Req/asks closed for now, guys :/ do keep in mind ur ideas and send once I'll announce them open)
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dearstvckyx · 2 months ago
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Riley Leclerc x TwinBrother!Charles Leclerc / YoungerBrother!Arthur Leclerc / F1 Drivers (angst/fluff ending)
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“We Got This”
The Las Vegas Grand Prix was supposed to be another race to chalk up experience, another step forward for Riley Leclerc in her Williams car (standing in for Alex Albon). But under the flashing lights of the Strip, chaos erupted in a split second.
Esteban Ocon had mistimed a move into Turn 3, clipping Riley’s rear wheel. The impact sent her spinning, helplessly colliding with Lando Norris, whose car smashed into hers like a missile. The radio went silent. Riley’s car was a crumpled mess in the middle of the track.
“Riley, are you okay? Riley, can you hear me?” her race engineer’s voice cracked through the radio. No response.
───────────────────────
When the helicopter lifted off, carrying Riley to the University Medical Center in Vegas, Arthur Leclerc sat on the tarmac, knees drawn to his chest, hands trembling. His older sister was somewhere up there, fighting, and he couldn’t do anything to help. His heart ached with an unrelenting weight.
“Come on, Ri,” he whispered, his voice cracking. “You’re stronger than this. We got this, okay? Breathe. Just breathe.” He stared at the sky, as if his words could reach her through sheer force of will.
───────────────────────
The paddock had erupted into chaos. Max Verstappen, Charles Leclerc, George Russell, Logan Sargeant, and Lewis Hamilton stormed into the Alpine garage where Esteban sat, guilt etched across his face.
“What the hell were you thinking?” Charles roared, shoving past George to get face-to-face with Esteban. “You could’ve killed her!”
“Charles,” Lewis placed a hand on his shoulder, trying to calm him down, though his own eyes burned with anger. “This isn’t how we handle it.”
“No, he needs to hear this!” Charles snapped, voice trembling. “That’s my sister out there! My twin!”
Logan’s voice cut through the shouting. “And Lando’s hurt too! You made a reckless move that put two people in the hospital!”
Esteban sat silently, shame consuming him, as Max shook his head and muttered, “Unbelievable.”
───────────────────────
At the hospital, Lando sat in a wheelchair, his arm in a sling, his leg wrapped in a brace. Despite his injuries, his focus was entirely on Riley.
“She’s going to be okay,” Lando said, more to himself than anyone else. “She has to be.”
Arthur paced the waiting room, muttering under his breath. “You’re not allowed to leave me, Ri. You hear me? You don’t get to do this.” He pressed his hands against his forehead, as if he could push away the fear clawing at his chest.
The entire F1 grid had gathered, their camaraderie evident even in the face of tragedy. Max leaned against a wall, arms crossed, his face filled with worry as he grew up with Riley and Charles, while Checo placed a comforting hand on his shoulder. Charles sat with Alexandra, her hand gripping his as tightly as she could and trying not to cry for her “sister”. George and Lewis were deep in conversation with the doctors, while Logan and Alex Albon passed water bottles around. Even Fernando Alonso, usually distant, looked visibly shaken.
When the doctor finally emerged, the room fell silent. Everyone standing.
“She’s stable,” the doctor announced. “The surgery went well. She’ll be okay, but it’ll be a long recovery.”
The collective sigh of relief was palpable.
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When Riley finally opened her eyes, the harsh white light of the hospital room stung, but the sight of Arthur sitting beside her made her heart ache in a different way. His head was resting on the edge of her bed, his hand gripping hers tightly.
“You’re really annoying, you know that?” Riley croaked, her voice weak but teasing.
Arthur’s head shot up, his red-rimmed eyes widening. “You’re awake.”
“No kidding.”
Tears spilled over as Arthur let out a shaky laugh. “Don’t ever scare me like that again.”
“I’ll try petit frère,” she whispered, squeezing his hand.
As the rest of the drivers filtered in, the room became a patchwork of laughter and relief. Lando, hobbling in with the help of Oscar, grinned through his pain. “Next time, Riley, maybe let me know before you try to kill me on track.”
Riley chuckled weakly. “Noted.”
Lewis leaned over, brushing her hair away from her face. “You gave us all a heart attack, kid.”
“Just keeping things interesting,” she replied, earning a collective groan from the room.
Charles sat on her other side, his hand never leaving hers. “You’re never driving again,” he muttered, though his voice was thick with emotion.
“Not happening,” she retorted.
Arthur laughed. “She’s back.”
And in that moment, surrounded by her twin, her team, and the entire F1 family, Riley felt the weight of their love. It didn’t matter how broken she was; together, they would piece her back together again.
Translate : petit frère - little brother
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petit-papillion · 9 months ago
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The moment Charles crosses the finish line..
I've watched this like 10 times now, focusing on someone else each time and it just gets better and better. Arthur, Ale, Andrea... 🥹🥰
Monaco Grand Prix | 26 May 2024
🎥 Scuderia Ferrari
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vetteltea · 1 year ago
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Lando Norris and Putting Up Decorations [no warnings]
Day 1 of the Vetteltea Advent Calendar
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“Mate, you just crossed me!” Alex’s voice shouts down the headphone set, a laugh erupting from the McLaren driver’s lips as he sees his fellow pilot cut off by none other than himself.
Lando’s down-time from the grand finale of Abu-Dhabi had lasted a grand sum of four days, three hours and twelve minutes before the boy was restless once more. He’d arrived home, seen his family, unpacked and washed his clothes in a fraction of the time it would usually take him. By the third day, he had called you at least seven times, begging for the company of his best friend- no, secret crush whom just so happened to be his best friend - and for your presence in Monaco. 
The evening you had arrived, the driver was bouncing on the heels over his overpriced trainers. When he’d caught a minute glance of your face, sleep ridden and your body wrapped in comfortable traveling clothes, the excitement filtering through his body couldn’t be contained, rushing over to scoop you up, the squeal which released from your lips barely audible over his own laughter, spinning you around in circles before gently reminding him she does need to go and grab her suitcase. 
He has it all planned out; a week of taking you to various lunching spots;, a few movie nights, maybe a catch-up with Max and Charles if you were feeling up to it. Most importantly, it was an entire week of being with you before you would fly home - together. 
What Lando had completely forgotten about, was the promise he had made to Alex, George and Arthur about a joint livestream, speaking about their experiences throughout the year. He’d sheepishly explained the situation to you over breakfast, only feeling his heart soften when you promised him it was okay, you would keep yourself occupied for a few hours, anyway. He wasn’t sure what you meant, or where you were going, for that matter when pressing a soft kiss to his cheek and slipping out through the apartment door. 
Engrossed deeply in his current driving battle, he hadn’t heard you return; it was just as well, your own phone connecting to the lounge speaker, gently playing Christmas music whilst unraveling the copious amount of decorations you’d obtained during your disappearance. After all, Lando had just moved into his new apartment and you were all-too-aware he had bought next to nothing with him. The least you could do was thank him by bringing some festive spirit into his home. 
One song becomes two; two become seven as you freely move to the music, climbing onto the arm of your best friend's sofa, tongue poked out at an awkward angle as your arms reach, a desperate attempt to hang the garland across the gilded mirror. You’re certain you would have entirely lost your balance, probably slammed into the floor if not for the two arms around your waist, feeling a warm chest press against your back. 
“You’re going to fall if you’re not careful.” He mumbles, keeping his grip around you firm whilst your heart caught up to your head; his arms were around your waist. Lando Norris was holding you. “I don’t want you to fall if I can’t catch you.” 
Did he…did he mean to say that? Did he understand how your heart fluttered so deeply, how if not for the garland left in your grip, you’re almost certain you would have turned in his grasp and pressed your lips to his, to hell with the consequences. Wordlessly, you let his touch remain whilst stretching to hook the garland across the mirror, now secure in your balance with his helping hands. (Helping was a strong word. You’re fairly sure your heart was about to explode.)
Hands fall to your side, subconsciously leaning back into Lando’s touch. Both of you are quiet, simply looking up to take in the decorations. This time, it’s Lando to act on instinct, tilting his head slightly and pressing a gentle kiss to the temple of your forehead, lips lingering for a lot longer than would be considered friendly. 
He hopes everyday. He hopes that one day the metaphorical penny will drop. Of course, you’re his best friend. There’s nobody he would trust more, who he would rather come to with his insane problems. Somewhere along the way, he had just so happened to fall in love with you. There’s the tiniest, most selfish part of him that wants nothing more than to lean forward there and then, tilt your chin and press your lips together. 
‘Not right now.’ he reminds himself. ‘I can do better. I can make our first kiss better.’ 
The moment has to end; eventually your head leans forward, unraveling yourself from his warmth and stepping off the couch. He can’t help but let the grin fall to his face whilst seeing you weave inbetween decorations, beelining towards the kitchen. 
“I picked up hot chocolate!” You draw him from his internal thoughts. “If you help me with the last few pieces, I'll make you one?”
“You had me at Hot Chocolate.”  
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bennyboyfics · 3 days ago
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lol could you do actress!reader where she’s going to watch Ben and idk people find out that their dating?!!
thanks don’t feel the need to that one specifically but something along the line of actress reader.
Grand slam surprise || Ben Shelton x actress!reader
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A/n: Ty for the request xx
Wc: 510
Warnings: none
MASTERLIST
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The murmurs started the moment you stepped onto the Arthur Ashe Stadium grounds. Cameras flashed, heads turned, and whispers spread like wildfire. Your name wasn’t exactly unfamiliar here—celebrities often came to watch the US Open—but this? This was different. You weren’t just here as a spectator. You were here for him.
Seated in his player’s box, right beside his team and family, your presence alone was enough to send shockwaves through the tennis world. Ben Shelton had always been private about his personal life, never one to entertain gossip or speculation. You, on the other hand, were one of Hollywood’s brightest stars—your face gracing blockbuster films, red carpets, and magazine covers.
The two of you had successfully kept your relationship under wraps, navigating clandestine meet-ups and late-night FaceTime calls in different time zones. But now? Now, you were making a statement. Dressed in a sleek, all-white ensemble, your sunglasses perched on your nose, you looked effortlessly composed—though, internally, your heart was racing. Ben had no idea you were coming.
He thought you were stuck in L.A. for a press tour. So when he stepped onto the court for his quarterfinal match, eyes scanning the stands out of habit, his movement stuttered. Just for a second. And then he saw you. His jaw clenched, his grip on his racquet tightening, but not in frustration—in pure, unfiltered shock. You watched as he exhaled sharply, blinking as if to make sure he wasn’t hallucinating under the New York heat.
The commentators noticed. “Wait a minute… is that—?”“Oh, wow. I don’t think anyone saw this coming.” The crowd had started buzzing too, fans nudging each other, pointing in your direction. Social media was already losing its mind. “WHAT IS SHE DOING IN BEN SHELTON’S PLAYER BOX?!” “Are they… dating???” The match began, but you could tell Ben was still reeling.
He fought through his first service game with gritted determination, stealing glances at you between points. His parents, seated beside you, were trying to suppress their knowing smiles. They had always been warm to you, treating you as if you’d been part of the family long before today. And when he won the first set with an ace down the T, his reaction was unmistakable. He turned toward his box, eyes locking onto yours, and pointed—directly at you.
The stadium erupted. The cameras caught everything. The commentators fumbled over their words, social media exploded again, and your cheeks burned as the world finally, undeniably, knew. Ben, still grinning, mouthed something before walking back to his bench. You surprised me, baby. You smirked, crossing your legs as you leaned forward, resting your chin in your hand. Well, I had to keep you on your toes, didn’t I?
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hihomeghere · 25 days ago
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Watch | Arthur Morgan x f!reader x Charles Smith
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Summary : You are curious on how two men can have sex, Arthur and Charles are happy to show you. Follows along with the series Baptized by Fire but can be read as a one shot.
Word count : 3.3k, this got away from me a little bit lol
Warnings/tags : M/W/M, threesome activities, oral m and f receiving, unprotected anal, reader has doubts about how she fits in the relationship, Charthur x reader, follows Baptized by fire storyline, Arthur Morgan x reader, Charles smith x reader, Arthur Morgan x Charles Smith, cursing, minors do not interact
Divider by @saradika
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You should have kept your mouth shut. Shouldn’t have spoken what had been nagging at you from the back of your mind since you had heard the two of them together nearly three weeks ago. 
But you were curious, a bad trait in the grand scheme of things. The three of you had settled into a new normal as you joined the dynamic between the two of them. 
“So how does it work?” You asked looking up from your needlepoint. Charles raised his eyebrows, looking at you from over his book.
“How does what work, sweetheart?” Arthur asked, not looking up from his journal. He had grown used to your endless questions. Unfortunately, you had grown up very sheltered, the little things you thought you did know were often wrong. Which led to Arthur and Charles constantly correcting you. At first you had felt so damn stupid, had left you keeping your mouth shut every time you had a question. Of course, they saw through your sudden silence, working to get to the meat of the problem. You’d never had anyone care so much about you, maybe your mama, but you hardly remembered her. 
“Well…” You started, pursing your lips as heat flooded your cheeks. “Two… two men. How does that work in bed?” You asked, biting your lip. 
Arthur cleared his throat, his cheeks turning that delicious shade of scarlet that highlighted his freckles. Charles only chuckled, looking over at him. 
“Well darlin’-“ Arthur started, clearing his throat once more, “there’s, there’s a few ways.” He said, setting his paper and pencil down. “You can uh- take him in your mouth as anyone would do.” He ran his hand through his honey brown locks, pushing them away from his face. “Or-“
“Or you can take him up the ass.” Charles finished, shrugging as he looked over at Arthur.
“Charles!” Arthur huffed, the tips of his ears turning pink.
“Oh for chrissake, she asked!” Charles said, chuckling softly. Your eyes widened as you looked between the two of them. Oh.
“Wouldn’t that hurt?” The words fell from your lips before you could stop them. Furrowing your brows as you looked between them. 
“It can,” Charles nodded, “if you go too hard or too fast. But it can also feel real good.” He hummed, glancing over at Arthur who was still a blushing mess. 
“How would it even fit?” You asked leaning forward, your curiosity overpowering the embarrassment you knew you should feel. 
“Salve,” Charles shrugged, “or oil. But I prefer salve, the tin beside our bed.”
“Charles.” Arthur was completely flushed, nearly hiding his face behind his hand as he rubbed his eyebrows. 
So that’s what that tin was for, you were now very thankful you had never used it to moisten your lips. 
“I’m still curious,” You said, shaking your head, “I understand the salve, but the two of you aren’t… small.” You chuckled, biting your lip. You could visibly see the two of them puff up at your praise. Arthur finally came out from behind his hand to look up at the two of you.
“Do you…” Arthur sighed, shaking his head as he chewed on his lip. “Do you wanna watch?”
The idea shouldn’t have sent such a thrill through you, but it did. Heat instantly rushed down through your belly to your core. 
“Can I?” You asked hesitantly, wondering if this was crossing a line. But Arthur had offered, hadn't he? If there was some invisible boundary between you and them, he would have offered it. 
This was the least favorite part of your arrangement. The guessing, the constant guessing if you had pushed too far or crossed a line. You wished that just once they would have to deal with the uncertainty you faced. Although you knew it wasn’t fair to think that way, they were the ones who had first faced uncertainty. They were the ones who had bared their souls to you first, shared the most intimate parts of their life.
“If you want to.” Charles nodded, a small smile tugging at his lips as he looked from you, over to Arthur. He gulped his Adam's apple bobbing.
“I wouldn’t be opposed to it.” His accent thick as he cleared his throat.
“What about tonight?” You asked, biting your lip. Butterflies erupted in your stomach as you surprised even yourself with your boldness. You were almost never the one to initiate physical intimacy with them. Again, tip-toeing around this invisible boundary that might have only existed in your mind. You didn’t want to push, didn’t want to do anything that might make them change their mind about you. About welcoming you into their life, their relationship.
“Tonight?” Charles’s small grin had now turned into a full blown smirk, “Eager are we?” He chuckled, heat flooding your cheeks as you looked down. “I don’t see why not, what do you think Arthur?” He hummed, leaning back in his chair as he spread his legs. Moving his hips in a not-so-subtle thrust. 
“Why not?” He shrugged, feigning indifference as he adjusted himself through his pants before he went back to his journal.
The day moved by at a snail's pace. No matter how many mindless tasks you completed, you could not will the sun to go down any faster than it normally would. You didn’t know why you seemed to be bewitched by the thought of the men indulging in each other. You would not be joining them, there would be no way for you to. You did not possess a cock, although you did not wish to possess one anyway. You would just be an observer tonight. Perhaps in some twisted way you had been waiting for this ever since you had heard them all those weeks ago.
You were nearly vibrating by the time you all sat down for dinner. Not even taking the time to savor the stew Charles and you had worked on earlier. You quickly washed up your bowl, along with the men. You could feel their eyes on your back, as you scrubbed the bowls in the soapy water. 
“Think we’ve teased the poor girl enough, Arthur?” Charles' deep voice called from behind you. 
“I reckon.” Arthur chuckled. Your mouth ran dry as you grabbed the towel, drying the remaining water off of your hands. You turned, your eyes landing on them. Their wolfish grins, their blown pupils, were settled on your body. Staring at you like they hadn’t just eaten their fair share. Heat began to pool in your core, your bloomers suddenly very damp between your thighs 
“Now?” You asked, wetting your lips. Both the men nodded, not taking their eyes off of you. Charles got up first, stalking towards you like you were the one who would be absolutely wrecked by the end of the evening. Arthur headed towards the bedroom, no doubt to prepare everything. 
Charles’ arms wrapped around your waist, pulling you flush to him as he pressed his lips to yours. Effectively stealing the breath from your lungs as he held you against the hard line of his body. His hardening excitement did little to dampen the fire steadily growing in your belly. 
He pulled back, resting his forehead against yours. Your breaths mingled as the two of you panted. The air had turned charged, like when a lightning storm was on the horizon, ready to touch down. 
“Ain’t that a pretty sight.” Arthur whistled from the doorway to your room, already stripped down to his union suit. His cock strained against the maroon fabric. 
“C’mon sweetheart.” Charles chuckled softly, taking your hand as the two of you walked into the bedroom. Arthur was all over Charles the second he stepped through the threshold. His hands were flying to his belt as he pulled it out of the loops. 
“Help me get him undressed, won’t you sweetheart?” Arthur asked, raising his gaze to find your eyes. You hadn’t realized you were frozen until he snapped you out of your trance. You moved beside him, your fingers working on unbuttoning his shirt.
You could feel his heart pounding against your fingertips as you pulled his shirt off of him. Baring his chest to you and Arthur. The oil lamp in the corner of the room made his skin nearly glow, highlighting the perfect imperfections of the scars along his skin. 
“See something you like, sweetheart?” Charles asked, his near obsidian eyes finding yours. Heat bloomed in your cheeks as you looked up at him, pulling your bottom lip between your teeth as you nodded. You heard the bed creak under Arthur’s weight, drawing your attention back to the other man. He was a vision in the low light, his hand wrapped around his stiff cock. His piercing gaze shot through you, turning your legs to jelly. You felt viewed, instead of the other way around.
The fabric of your dress fell at your feet, leaving you in your chemise. You furrowed your brows, looking up at Charles. 
“What?” You asked, as his fingers untied the string above your breasts. 
“Do you want to stop?” He asked, pausing his motions. You shook your head, swallowing thickly. You felt your nipples harden as he bared your skin to the chill air. Arthur grabbed your wrist, tugging you back to him. His mouth covered your breast, running his tongue over your nipple. 
A small moan left your lips, your fingers threading through honey brown hair. Which had grown in the past few weeks, forgoing a haircut. You curled the strands around your fingers, pulling him closer. A whine raised up through his throat, the sound vibrating through your chest. He raised his other hand to grope at your breast that was being neglected by his mouth. You sighed softly, closing your eyes.
A choked gasp around your nipple snapped your eyes open. Charles has his hand around Arthur, smearing the salve around his head before spreading it down his shaft. His hot breath wafted against you as he leaned his forehead against your chest. Goosebumps erupted on your skin, down your arms. 
“Impatient.” Arthur said with a choked breath, glancing up at Charles. Charles chuckled, turning Arthur’s jaw towards him. He captured his lips against his, your heart pounding as you watched them. 
“Get on the bed.” Arthur growled, his pupils dilating as his hand came down on Charles backside with a loud smack. Charles grinned, crawling onto the flannel sheets. He laid on his back, his raven hair spread out like a halo.
“You too.” Arthur’s hand came down on your ass cheek, a small gasp leaving your lips. 
“But I’m-“
“You want the best seat in the house don’tcha?” Arthur asked, rubbing your reddened skin. You nodded, climbing onto the bed next to Charles. Arthur grabbed the salve, spreading it on Charles' puckered hole. Charles sucked in a breath as Arthur slowly pressed a finger inside. You moved to sit on your knees, watching as Arthur moved one of Charles legs up onto his hip. Charles let out a low moan as Arthur added a second finger. You felt like you were in a trance, unable to pull your eyes away from the scene in front of you. Not that you wanted to. Arthur twisted his hand, smirking as Charles’ hips jolted in response. His thick cock standing at attention on his stomach. 
“You wanna help our boy, sweetheart?” Arthur cooed, raising his eyes. You wrapped your hand around Charles’ weeping head, spreading the precum down his shaft. 
“Fuck-“ Charles groaned, fisting the sheets under him. Your mouth was watering at the sight, a light sheen of sweat covering Charles' skin. You couldn’t help yourself, lowering your head to take Charles in your mouth.
“Atta girl.” You could hear the smirk in Arthur’s tone. You swirled your tongue around his mushroom head, dipping your tongue into his slit. 
“Shit- Arthur.” Charles groaned.
“I ain’t the one with my pretty mouth wrapped around your cock.” Arthur hummed, “Tell her how good she’s doin’.”
“So good- ngh- so good sweetheart.” His hand rested against your head, petting your hair. You pushed yourself down, taking more of him in your mouth. Tasting the subtle musk that was so incredibly Charles. 
Arthur gently pulled you off of him, capturing your lips with his own. Pushing his tongue into your mouth, no doubt tasting Charles on your tongue. 
Arthur lined himself up with Charles, pressing his head into him slowly.
“Damnit-“ Charles hissed, his cock twitching on his belly. His brows drew together, white knuckling the sheets. Arthur pushed into him fully, his pelvis against his ass. His hands ran up and down Charles’ thick thighs.
“Feel so good darlin’.” Arthur hummed, closing his eyes. You swallowed thickly, your mouth going dry at the sight in front of you. 
“So pretty.” You said softly, the words leaving your lips before you could think twice about them. They had this sort of effect on you, like they stopped your inhibitions. Drawing out your deepest thoughts and desires, with no effort at all. 
“Him or me, sweetheart?” Arthur sighed contently, drawing his hips back slowly before easing back inside him.
“Both.” You replied, your attention drawn to Charles as he whined. 
“More.” Charles pleaded, his blown wide eyes looking up at Arthur. 
“Anything you want darlin’.” Arthur snapped his hips forward, rewarded with a deep moan from Charles. You bit your lip, slipping your hands down your body. Dragging your fingers across your nipples before you moved between your legs. Gathering your slick on your fingers before finding your nub of pleasure. You hummed, looking back at Arthur and Charles. 
Arthur had Charles‘ thigh up on his hip, his lip between his teeth as he thrust into him. You picked up speed, a small moan leaving your lips. 
“C’mere.” Charles panted, grabbing your wrist. You sighed as he pulled your hand away from your legs.
“Where?”
“Sit on me.” He almost begged. 
“I- I don’t…” you bit your lip, looking from Charles to Arthur. Arthur slowed his movements, stilling inside of Charles. You swallowed thickly, feeling heat crawl up your neck and into your cheeks. 
“Don’t what sweetheart?” Arthur asked, his chest rising and falling harshly. 
“Well it’s- this is between you two…” You mumbled.
“Do you not want to join us?” Charles asked, wetting his lips.
“No that’s not it.” You said shaking your head, your tongue felt heavy and too big for your mouth. 
“Then what’s the problem?” Arthur asked, his brows furrowing. You sat there, completely exposed. Physically and emotionally, how were you supposed to tell them how you felt? How were you supposed to speak when you could hardly form a thought from the jumbled words and feelings in your brain? 
“This isn’t between Arthur and I.” Charles said, his gaze soft, “This is between us. All of us.” He said, squeezing your hand. 
“I just-“ You bit your lip, tears pricking your eyes. 
“Oh sweetheart.” Arthur said softly, pulling out of Charles. 
“I don’t-“ You huffed, rubbing your eyes. “I don’t know what’s wrong with me.”
“Nothing.” Charles said, sitting up. “Nothing is wrong with you.”
“Talk to us.” Arthur said, rubbing your back. You took a few shaky breaths, trying to assemble the mix of emotions into a sentence.
“I-“ You sighed, letting Charles pull your hand away from your face. “I don’t know what’s allowed.” You mumbled 
“Allowed?” Arthur repeated, furrowing his brows. 
“I just-“ You groaned, shaking your head, “I don’t want to mess up, or- or intrude-“
“Intrude?” Arthur shook his head.
“There ain’t a way for you to intrude sweetheart.” Charles cooed. “Belong here, with us.” He said, looking from you up to Arthur.
His words struck your heart like an arrow. You sniffled, unable to hold back the tears. You didn’t know that’s what you needed to hear, to be reassured that this was your home. That they wanted you as much as you wanted them. 
“I love you, both of you.” You sniffled, looking up at them. No longer afraid of the consequences of speaking what you had known for weeks now. 
“I love you too.” Arthur smiled, pulling you into his embrace.
“I love you too sweetheart.” Charles said, kissing the crown of your head. “Now,” He started, wiping your tears away from your cheeks. “Don’t make me beg.” He smirked, laying back down. 
“You sure I won’t crush you?” You asked 
“I can promise you, you won’t.” He hummed, reaching for you. You moved from Arthur's arms, climbing up his body. You straddled his chest, his hands grabbed your ass pulling you further up on the bed. You hovered over his face, wetting your lips as you let out a shaky breath. 
“Ready Charles?” Arthur asked from behind you.
“Ready.” He replied before pulling you down onto his face. His tongue dove into you, fucking your hole with reckless abandon. 
“Oh Charles!” You squealed, grasping the headboard for support as he devoured you like a man starved. Charles' moan was muffled against your core as Arthur filled him.
“So damn tight.” Arthur said through gritted teeth behind you. Each thrust moved Charles against you, his nose bumping up against your clit. Sending sparks of pleasure through your body and down to your toes. Charles' arms were wrapped around your thighs, holding you down on him as you started to shake. 
They had tasted you a few times, but never like this. Every moan vibrated through your core. You wonder if he was moaning at your taste or at Arthur’s thick cock splitting him open, probably both. You had never heard of a man that enjoyed eating pussy like Charles. It was almost like an art to him, the way he licked through your folds, sucking on your clit until you were crying out.
“Oh god- Charles- Arthur-“ Their names fell like a mantra from your lips as you got closer and closer to falling over the edge. The coil tightening in your belly, your toes curling. 
“Cum for him, sweetheart, soak his pretty face.” Charles moaned at Arthur’s words which sent you over the edge. Cuming with a wail as you grabbed at the raven locks at the crown of Charles head. Instead of letting up, he sucked harder at your clit, your legs trembling on either side of his head. Arthur sped up his thrusts, the sound of skin slapping against skin filling the small room. 
You were floating, hardly able to hold yourself up as you collapsed over to one side of Charles. 
“Fill him up.” You panted, breathless as you looked up at Arthur. 
“Yeah?” Arthur asked, his hair sticking to his forehead. “Want me to fill up our man?” You nodded, trailing your fingers down Charles' chest. Wrapping your hand around his cock, you started to stroke him in time with every one of Arthur’s thrusts.
“Fuck-“ Charles keened, his chest jerking off of the bed. His balls pulled tight up against his body. “I’m gonna-“
“Cum.” Arthur growled, baring his teeth like a wild animal. Charles gasped, ropes of cum painting his belly and chest as you worked him through his orgasm. Arthur slammed his hips against his ass, chasing after his own high. Cuming with a whine as he collapsed in on himself.
For a few moments, the only sound in the room was your breaths. Arthur pulled out of Charles, flopping down on the other side of him. His arm above his head as he caught his breath. 
“Everything you hoped for?” He asked, clearing his throat as he looked over at you. You chuckled breathlessly, throwing your arms over Charles' chest as you rolled onto your side. 
“And more.” You hummed, snuggling into Charles' side. Charles chuckled, kissing your forehead. Arthur sighed contently, before getting up. He grabbed a damp cloth, must have placed it in here beforehand, and returned to the bed. He gently began wiping the cum off Charles' stomach and thighs.
“You still curious, sweetheart?” Charles asked with a hum, his jaw glistening with your slick.
“Well…” You started, a wicked grin spreading across your face as you spoke with renewed confidence. “I haven’t seen Arthur take you.”
Tag list : @photo1030 , @emerald-ranch @highlandhour , @buffkirby2020 , @esquilone , @cyb3rsx , @whalecage , @idekraeven , @calcarius445 , @heloixe
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