#arthur is a bottom with no game

[wyfern]

I needed more Arthur Morgan in @crowtrail 's style so i attempted to make some myself

[wilchur]

I'M SORRY?? How the hell did I never notice that Emmet Granger not only calls Arthur "Girlie" but also describes him as "effeminate type"?? I'm????

[roaringheat]

A mini round up of my fave Arthur sketches 🐎

[elleplaysotome]

Ikevamp Fight For Love illustration!!!

[formulapai]

HOSPITAL TRIP

part of the BROTHER IN LAW series

scenario: she wasn’t hurt that bad, they were just over-exaggerating..

warning: hospital, vomit, falling down the stairs, minor concussion

pai’s words: it sounds really bad but it’s NOT I promise. also, my brothers call me “ma puce” quite often, which is a REALLY known nickname in France, and it literally translates to “my flea” and it’s ?? weird ?? so I translated it as “sweetie” to match the vibe ! ALSO I had a concussion once when I was younger because one of them pushed me into a wall while riding a bike, fun times 👍🏻

based on a true story (I broke my pinky and my brothers acted like I was on deathbed, calling my UNCLES to tell them all about it 💀💀💀)

“Bon Océ, tu fais quoi là?” (Océ, what are you doing?)

She hears her twin brother’s exasperated grumble as she finishes getting ready, fastening her new heels’ strap around her ankle.

“Roh ca va Thuthur, je suis prête!” (Cmon it’s fine Thuthur, I’m ready)

She excitedly runs out of her room and down the stairs, ready to go to the restaurant with her brother. They’re joining their mum and older brothers there for their weekly dinner. Or well, they should have been, but the night’s plan are forgotten as Arthur sees her sister tripping in the stairs and miserably falling down. She’s at the bottom of them when he finally unfreezes and rushes to her, screaming her name. The woman stays unmoving but awake for a few seconds, too stunned to comprehend what has happened.

“Oh putain, ça va ma puce ?” (Oh fuck, you alright sweetie?)

Océane snorts and holds a thumbs up, trying to get up but quickly realizing her mistakes. She groans as pain shoots up her spine and bangs around her head. Damn, maybe her fall was a little worse than she thought. Her brother holds her as she sits up and grits her teeth as the banging in her head grows stronger. He sees right through her game and shakes his head.

“Va sur le canapé, je les préviens qu’on va être en retard.” (Go sit on the couch, I’m telling them we’re going to be late)

She tries to do as he said but isn’t able to get far as her vision goes black and she slumps back on the ground in a frankly humiliating position that she KNOWS her brother would have made fun of her for if it was any other situation. Once her vision is back, she finally manages to get up towards the couch and lets herself fall on it with a sigh. She slowly looks over at whatever she can see of her body, noticing that nothing seems broken or even bruised and she thanks her lucky star for it. In the back of her mind, she pictures Pierre nagging at her for choosing the very own shoes he told her to be careful with. Of course she didn’t listen, and of course she should have. It’s a known fact she’s the clumsiest person ever.

“Bon, j’ai prévenu Maman, tu te sens comment?” (Alright, I’ve told mom, how are you feeling?)

He sits next to her and does a quick visual checkup, coming to the same conclusion as hers.

“Ca va, ca va, juste un peu mal à la tête.” (I’m fine, I’m fine, just a headache)

Arthur frowns at that, concern written on his face.

“T’es sûre que ca ira ? ‘Fin tu sais, ils nous disent toujours de faire gaffe à ca justement, les cervicales, tout ca..” (You sure it’s going to be fine ? I mean, they always tell us to be careful about this, cervical impact and all)

Océane snorts, of course he’s going to compare her fall to the extreme risks of his job. As if she’s that hurt. She shakes her head but quickly regrets it when buzzing fills her ears and she’s hit with a wave of nausea. Quickly getting up despite her state, the sister rushes to the bathroom and kneels in front of the toilet. Her head is so loud, her vision doesn’t seem to be working as she’d like, and in the midst of it all, she can still hear her twin’s voice as he rushes after her. He stops at the door and waits for her to finish, ready to help her if needed. He knows something is definitely wrong, she probable hit her head during the fall.

“Bon, je previens Maman que je t’emmene aux urgences” (Well, I’m telling mom I’m taking you to the ER)

The other twin spits the water she was gurgling and turns around, eyes wide and arms crossed.

“Non mais tu vas pas m’emmener aux urgences pour une chute ?” (You are so not taking me to the ER because I fell?)

Arthur stands his ground and levels her with a glare, his mind already made up. She scoffs as she goes back to the living room, taking her phone and seeing messages from her brothers and his boyfriend. She’s about to answer to some of them when her phone lights up with a call from Lorenzo that she’s quick to accept.

“Va à l’hopital ma puce” (Go to the hospital, sweetie)

“Tu vas pas t’y mettre aussi Enzo, c’est n’importe quoi” (Not you too Enzo, it’s bullshit)

“Non mais il a raison, ca peut etre grave ! Vaut mieux prévenir que guérir.” (But he’s right, it can be serious. Better be safe than sorry)

In the corner of her eyes, she sees Arthur smiling triumphantly as he listens to the conversation and already has her bag in his hands, ready to go.

“Mais Enzo, je suis juste tombée, je suis meme pas blessée !” (Cmon Enzo, I just fell, I’m not even hurt)

Océane hears shuffling on the other side of the phone and rolls her eyes as Charles comes to the phone.

“Océ ! Va au moins voir si tout va bien, je t’emmène à ton café préféré demain si t’y vas !” (Océ, at least go there to check if everything’s fine, I’m taking you to your favorite cafe if you do)

“Bon ok, mais si je me fais disputer par les infirmieres parce que je gache leur temps, je dis que c’est de votre faute !” (Fine, but if the nurses tell me off for wasting their time I’m telling them it’s because of you guys)

She faintly hears her mother laughing as she hangs up and turns to her brother, vision becoming blurry once again. She doesn’t pay any mind to it and gets up, walking towards the front door and towards his brother’s Ferrari. Dumb boys and their dumb obsession with the Italian cars. As soon as they’re on their way, her phone’s connected to the radio, yet another person calls her. She shakes her head and answers, the car radio coming alive.

“Mon ange, j’ai eu Charlo au telephone, c’est quoi cette histoire encore ? Tu vas bien ?” (My angel, Charlo called me, what’s this all about ? Are you okay ?)

Arthur snorts and decides to expose her and her damn shoes, how she fell and pretty much every details there is to know about it. She’s very tempted to take the steering wheel and crash the car.

“Bref, on va pas en faire tout un plat, je suis tombée et ils exagerent, comme d’habitude.” (Anyway, no need to blabber about it, I fell and they’re overreacting, as usual)

Pierre chuckles and stays on the phone with them until they arrive at the ER’s parking lot, making his girlfriend promise to keep him updated. Arthur leads them towards the desk, her dizziness returning once she’s out of the car, and explains the story to the nurse there, turning towards his twin to see if she needs to add something. Océane tells her symptoms, how she feels as if her head is going to explode, how she felt sparks shoot up her spine when she fell and the pin just stayed in her head after that. They wait for a few moments, the waiting room surprisingly empty. Her brother distracts her and launches into a monologue about whatever game he discovered with his friends the night before during a livestream. It’s not long before she’s called over, having a nurse do a simple checkup on her, shining a light in her eyes, taking her temperature, the basics. Only later, when a doctor enters the room to tell her the diagnostic, she softly laughs. The professional assures her that it was a good thing they insisted on having her come to the hospital and sends her off with a few instructions.

“Un trauma cranien, TRES leger!” (A concussion, a very minor one)

Arthur shoots up his seat and joins you towards the exit, blabbering about how they were so right, how she absolutely needs to rest and drink and acting as if she’s a one year old. The nail in the coffin is when he insists on calling her boyfriend to tell her he needs to come ASAP to take care of her because “it’s his job as your boyfriend !”. They argue all the way back to the apartment and even after they arrive, the twin brother insisting on having her laying in bed for the rest of the evening.

“Arthur, t’es saoulant là, sincerement” (Arthur, you’re annoying, sincerely)

But he’s gone before she can finish the sentence, so she grumpily settles on the bed and waits. Of course he took her phone, claiming that the screen was going to worsen the situation. Again, for a minor concussion. A simple minor concussion. She’s soon lost in her thoughts, not hearing when voices are suddenly coming from the entryway, not even noticing the soft knock on her door. She does notice her boyfriend’s very amused face as he looks down on her.

“Non mais je reve, dis moi qu’il t’a pas dit de venir ?” (I hope I’m dreaming and he didn’t tell you to come)

Pierre’s facade breaks and he cackles loudly, slapping his thigh. He proceeds to tell her everyone is downstairs, her brothers absolutely serious in their worry, her mother enjoying the chaos and laughing silently. Océane decides the best to do is ignore it all and lets her lover climbs into the bed with her, enjoying the butterfly kisses he leaves on her head.

[blackwomanwriter]

"Mine"

Read: Part I, Part II

It's been a minute, but I finally wrote something. And of course, I had to go back to this series because there is something about Thomas Shelby. Anyways, I hope you enjoy, and let me know your favorite part. Happy Reading!

He entered quietly like he was on a mission. Although this one was unlike the ones he had performed during the war and after. No, this mission was different. Very different. Yet, Tommy performed it with the same intensity.

Eyes narrowed on the quiet interior, clocking each entry point and exit way, like a soldier, he assessed his environment. He hadn’t been in a house this small since his childhood. Even back then, the space had felt cluttered and cramped. Too noisy to think. Too busy to breathe. The stench of his father’s hangover in the air before it disappeared altogether.

He remembered talking Arthur out of trying to find their father. A man unworthy of carrying - no, sharing his surname. Tommy tensed his jaw, moving past the memory. Instead, he raised a brow at how devastatingly clean the entire place felt. Physically tidy, but clean in a way that made the house feel empty. Unlived. Unloved. Cold. The opposite of everything he thought of her. She was warm. Tender. Inviting.

Moving to the narrow staircase, he could hear the water running. The pipes pushing the water through the house. She was here. She was alive. She was avoiding him - again.

He hiked up the stairs, stepping one foot in front of the other. Like a soldier, he kept moving. He carried on with the task before him. His mind focused on the mission.

Opening the door quietly, Tommy leaned on the door frame - taking in the sight before him. Curved hips that were fuller since he had last seen her. A waist that tempted him to wrap his arms around her. It was now that he reached in his pocket for a cigarette.

“Jesus, Tommy,” she shrieked. The click of his lighter giving him away.

She rested a hand on her heart, shuddering as she closed her eyes.

Unbothered, he traced the stick along his bottom lip before lighting it.

“What the fuck are you doing here?” She pinched the bridge of her nose, as her breath steadied.

“You haven’t been taking my calls,” he stated. Gaze unchanged. Smoke filling the air.

“I’m in mourning,” she enunciated, grabbing a towel to cover herself. She didn’t bother hiding her frustrations as she shoved past him. She was angry. He liked her angry.

At first, when she didn’t answer his call, he had briefly worried that she was sad. Tearful over the sudden death of her husband, who the police found floating in the river after a night of drinking. His death ruled accidental according to the official report. A drunken man’s blunder. An unsurprising end of life. An expected death for a man who drank as much as her late husband did.

An easy lie to believe, but she knew the truth. The greatest mistake the dead man had made was marrying Thomas Shelby’s favorite whore. It was her mistake more than his. She knew what she was doing when she said yes. The risks she was taking by marrying while Tommy was off in America. Her moment of rebellion had cost a life.

Although, they had gotten past the letter. She hadn’t returned to him. She wanted to keep her promise. To stay married. To honor what was left of her vows. She wouldn’t work for him. She wouldn’t see him. The temptation of losing herself in him made her stay away. She had already ruined the sanctity of her marriage by sleeping with him in his office. She didn’t want to continue making a mockery of the words she vowed before God and man.

She was suddenly religious, which amused Tommy. He thought it was a game, but she clung on to every word spoken by the priest. At the funeral, she remembered his words at the wedding. How he had pressed upon her the importance of repentance. Before Thomas Shelby, she had been a good girl. Never told a lie. Prayed before bed. Devout daughter. Devoted sister. An upstanding and honorable member of her community. He had changed her. Corrupted her. Loved her. Destroyed her.

“It’s been weeks,” Tommy stated coolly.

She ignored him. Her hands focused on the cream she was applying to her skin. Smooth skin. Soft skin. Skin his lips remembered. The taste imprinted on his tongue. Tommy exhaled.

His patience was wearing thin. He loved her. She loved him. He figured out how to help her keep her promise and allow him to keep his. Her husband was dead, and she was free.

“I see you’re eating again,” he quipped, trying to stir a reaction out of her. She didn’t disappoint. He ducked as the bottle of cream nearly struck his head.

“I went from being a whore to being a widow.”

“Sounds like the beginning of a book.” Tommy shrugged then ducked again. This time, she threw a shoe.

“At least I can bargain my way into heaven as a whore,” she resolved, refusing to meet his eyes.

“Is that what your priest tells you?” He brought the cigarette back to his lips for another drag.

He knew. Of course, he knew. She wondered if he was having her followed again. How else would he know about her visits to the church. Her talks with the priest.

“My greatest sin is you,” she finished her thought.

Her words were meant to be cutting, but Tommy remained unbothered. His eyes stoic, jaw set as if he was watching a horse race. He brought his cigarette to his lip, letting it dangle as he neared her. 

She stood up, ready to shove past him again, but he grabbed her forearm. Her eyes flared up at him as she tried to loosen his grip, but he remained firm.

“You want to talk about sins, ey?” He whispered against her ear. “You married a man who picked a pint over his life. A man who stowed you away in a house he couldn’t bear to live in himself, while he stayed three doors down with his brother’s wife.”

She frowned, hearing him confirm a suspicion she wouldn’t allow herself to believe. When he stopped coming home, she told herself that he was drunk at a pub or sleeping his hangover off at his mother’s house.

“A man who lost his wages betting on fights.”

So that’s where all their money had gone, she thought. Her face didn’t flinch as Tommy confirmed another truth. Her late husband was just another man who had let her down. All the words she threw at Tommy about him being a good man were lies. He was just better at hiding his wrongs.

Tommy softened his grip on her hand, as he relayed the sin that he couldn’t forgive. The sin that forced him to intervene without thinking of the consequences. “A man who was willing to sell his wife to settle his debts.”

Her eyes widened then glazed over. The shred of innocence he once found in those warm brown irises was quickly disappearing. He cursed at himself for the letter, but it wasn’t just the letter. It was the months he left her wondering if he could ever love again. It was the voice that told him to push her away. She married the man because of him.

Tommy released her hand. There was a part of him that wished he hadn’t been so honest. Her hardened eyes told him just as much. The look on her face was one he had seen before in the women who dared to love him. When his darkness eventually shadowed their light. When his world swallowed them whole.

She reached for the cigarette hanging from his mouth. Taking a long drag, she exhaled. The smoke covering Tommy’s face.

“My sin was marrying the wrong man,” she concluded.

His thumb brushed her skin, remembering when her lips pressed against his in hunger. His lip bleeding as their need took precedence. Her lip bruised from his appetite. Even when he had her, he needed more. Tracing her lip, he gently placed the cigarette between his fingers then lifted it to his mouth. The first puff was for the memory. The second was for his patience.

“No, my god doesn’t care about sins.”

“I didn’t think you believed in,” sighing, she looked up, “anything.”

Tommy closed his eyes. His patience wearing on him again. “You’re moving out of this house. You’re coming back to work, and you’re going to answer when I call.”

“Of course, Mr. Shelby,” she answered.

His jaw ticked at the use of his surname. The smoke from his cigarette creating a haze over his eyes. “Don’t start.”

“Tell me what your god thinks about whores.”

“Everyone’s a whore,” he muttered, as he moved toward the door, already thinking of his next order of business. The kiss would have to wait.

“Is that what your wife thinks?”

Tommy stopped walking. Leaning his hand on the door frame, he closed his eyes. His nose flared. His annoyance growing with her disobedience. He seemed to attract women who were determined to do the opposite of what he asked.

“She confronted me. Told me to stay away,” she admitted, and in that second, he realized why she ignored him. She was no longer his secret. He made his affection too obvious.

“I’ll take care of it,” he firmly stated, leaving no room for further questions. Yet, she continued.

“Does she follow any of the other girls or is it just me?” She asked.

He wasn’t ready to admit that there weren’t any other girls. That there hadn’t been other girls for a while. From the moment he declared his love, Tommy had made himself hers - only hers.

“You love me, but there are others,” she whispered. “I love you, but all I do is think of them. To be with you, I have to worry about them. I have to wait to be yours.”

“Is that what you’re doing then - waiting?” He asked, closing the distance between them.

Her hand dropped to her middle and Tommy’s eyes followed. He stared, then frowned before bringing his gaze back to her. “How far along?”

Her eyes softened. The grief coloring every muscle in her face. Tommy closed his eyes. She was in mourning. He understood her words clearly now. It was moments like this that made him miss Polly. She would have known.

Tommy muttered something in his Romanian tongue as he sat on the bed. He stamped his cigarette out in silent rage. There was never an end. Death seemed to find him at every turn. It hunted him. Craved him.

His hands went to her robe. Slowly, he pulled the fabric, revealing her body. A body that had prepared itself to carry his child. A body that had nourished him back to life. His fingers moved to her belly, tracing the skin there. The soft, smooth skin.

He looked up at her and saw the tears she wouldn’t shed. How long had she held them in, unable to weep. Unable to speak. Unable to fully mourn. Wrapping his arms around her middle, he pulled her in and kissed the place his hands had touched. He tried to do what she had done for him; he tried to make it okay for her to feel.

“I’m fine, Tommy. It’s better this way,” she said, her voice cold and void of any emotion.

“When?” He whispered, knowing it was his, and yet wondering how he’d missed so much in so little time.

“It doesn’t matter,” she stiffened. “It’s gone now, and I need to move on.”

She gave him a second to make peace with the reality she had lived with for weeks. Then, she moved from his touch, closing her robe as she distanced herself. Loving him was painful enough without the added grief of their lost child.

“You shouldn’t have come,” she folded her arms, avoiding his gaze.

Tommy raised a brow, staring at her before glancing around the room. It was as cold as the rest of the house - bare of any details or remnants of her. Standing up, Tommy found a new mission. He moved past her in search of anything that made the four walls more of a home.

His hands traced the metal bed frame. His fingers trailing the linen and cloth. He opened windows and tapped on wooden walls. He inspected the little furniture in the room, unsatisfied with the results.

“Tommy,” she started to say as he pushed open a wardrobe, finding it empty.

She was leaving. She planned to leave London. She planned to leave him. The thought stung in Tommy’s mind as he opened drawer after empty drawer. His anger taking center stage.

“Tommy,” her voice raised with concern.

He shoved the empty wardrobe back, watching as it crashed against the wall.

“Stop,” she yelled, as he shoved the wardrobe again and again. His grief coloring his anger. His anger coloring his grief. Her heart jumped as the wooden drawers finally cracked under the pressure. The splitting wood overshadowing her screams as the wardrobe completely fell apart.

“Tommy,” she cried, rushing to stop him from breaking the wood further. “Stop.”

“Please,” she whispered. Her plea full of a love she couldn’t deny him.

He exhaled. The sound of his heightened breath taking all the space in the room. His anger taking all the air. Tommy closed his eyes. The familiar whispers creeping in his head, telling him to put out the fire. To walk over to the other side. To let go of this life. To finally rest.

She swallowed, unsure of what to tell him, and yet, she persisted. “My sister found work outside of London. She thought it’d be good for me…”

Tommy shook his head, looking up at the ceiling.

“I wanted to tell you,” she stopped, lowering her head. There was nothing to say.

He scoffed. “Tell me.”

It felt like deja vu to hear him utter those words to her again. To hear the same command. The same request he’d asked from her when she told him about the wedding. Yet, this time, there was nothing left to say.

She stared at the back of his head. Her fingers yearning to brush his hair or wrap themselves around him. Her lips longing to kiss the nape of his neck.

Closing her eyes, she confessed. “There’s no life for me here.”

“You’re not leaving.” He pushed back, ignoring her words. “You’re mine.”

“When?” She sighed. “When am I yours, Tommy?”

He lifted his head, staring at the wall. His mind moving a mile a minute. She couldn’t leave him. His heart wouldn’t allow it. His body would protest. His hunger was contained to her. His thoughts all went back to her. How many minutes until he can think of her? How many meetings until he can dream of her? He suffered without her to be with her. Every hour he was away was an hour he promised to give to her.

He was a selfish man, who wanted what he wanted. A man who endured wars and monsters disguised as men. A cursed man. A broken man. A suffering man. A man who didn’t deserve her, and yet, he wanted her. He needed her. She was the cigarette on his lips. The pain tablets in his pocket. The shirt on his back. The razor blade on his cap. She couldn’t leave him.

“When your wife is gone? When you’re fucking other women?” Her voice continued in the background, but Tommy was half-listening. “When you’re bored? When the nightmares come? When the work is done? When am I yours?” She asked again, although there was no anger in her question.

“When you married him, you were mine. Every time you put on his fucking ring; you were mine.” His brows furrowed as he reached into his side pocket for a cigarette. “When you moved into this house, you were mine. When you had my fucking child inside of you, you were mine.” Tommy sniffed, turning to face her. “From the moment you entered my office, you belonged to me.”

She stiffened, as she traced her empty ring finger. His crassness didn’t bother her as much as his refusal to listen. He disregarded her words, only focusing on what he wanted. It was why she didn’t want to tell him about the baby. He would have stuck her in a big house that he would never visit. Given her everything except the thing she wanted, which was him. But now that nightmare wasn’t even a reality because she’d lost their child. She'd lost a piece of him.

“Is that all it takes…” she started to argue, but words were pointless. Their arguments were pointless. They had a love that was cursed from inception.

In this life, he was promised to another. In the next, he would be reunited with another. In life and death, she had no place in Thomas Shelby’s life. Her love for him didn’t save their unborn child. It reminded her that their love had no place to grow. It was wilted, and no amount of money or prayer could save them.

“You’re not leaving,” Tommy declared, cornering her until she had no choice but to look up at him.  Her brown eyes sinking into him, full of a love he didn’t deserve.

“You made me a promise,” he whispered. His jaw tensing as he remembered that night in his office when he had made himself hers. When he had promised to live. To stop craving death. The gods had given him a second chance with her.

“Tommy,” she protested, but he continued.

“You gave me your word.” His lips brushed hers and her body shuddered. “You made promises to me. Promises I intend to collect.”

His hand slipped down to her robe, loosening the ties. His fingers marking a trail from her chest to her neck to her lips. “Promises you agreed to keep.”

She folded under his touch. Her head falling on his chest as she exhaled. Quick, short breaths that made Tommy pull her in closer.

“And what of your promises?” She grabbed his fingers before they could slip between her thighs.

“Hmmm,” he hummed, trying not to smirk. “Remind me again.”

Shaking her head, she moved from his hands. Her heart ached, but it would always ache whether she was with him or not. He was not wrong. It belonged to him. From the moment she entered his office, her heart had become his. Knowing he was promised to another, it still beat for him. It yearned for him. It acted without consequence.

Thou shall not commit adultery. A vow she’d broken within a month of knowing Thomas Shelby. But her heart didn’t care. It didn’t care about the commandments she broke. Her sins were plenty but her heart was full. Full of love for a man who couldn’t confess his love until she married another.

Turning away from him, she closed her robe. Her hand wanted to follow the trail he etched on her skin, but she didn’t. She could hear him lighting a cigarette. His eyes on her. His eyes undressing her. His eyes claiming her as his.

She wanted to run, but her heart wouldn’t let her. Instead, she willed herself to face him. Smoke in the air. His scent in every crevice of the cramped room. She inhaled and tried to tell him again. Her thoughts were on her lips, and yet, nothing.

Offering her his cigarette, Tommy stepped towards her. “Leaving London won’t cure you of me.”

She reached for the smoke. Grateful for the distraction. For the heat. For the vapors. For the way her lungs would expand and contract. For the cigarette they shared between them. His lips on her lips. Her lips on his.

“That priest of yours won’t help you either,” he added.

“What is the cure then?”

Tommy leaned into her. His hands on her waist, slowly moving her robe up past her knees then her thighs. “First, you have to stop running.”

“Running?” She asked, confused by his accusation.

“The wedding. The job. This house.” He counted. “And now these plans of leaving London.” His hands pushed the fabric of her robe from her skin, leaving her naked before him. “You mustn’t run.”

“And what if I do?” She questioned, not allowing her nudity to dissuade her.

Tommy brushed her cheek before taking the cigarette from her lips. “I’ll find you. Remind you of where you belong.”

“And where is it that I belong?” She asked. Her eyes gentle and pleading. 

He brought her hand to his chest, placing it where his heart lay. “Here. Right here.”

She swallowed her nerves, terrified of letting her heart speak. “Second?” She went back to his list.

“Second.” He took a drag, exhaling the smoke before he continued, “You must know, I get scared,” he admitted, and she finally understood why he’d written her that letter. Thomas Shelby was scared of loving her. The first woman he loved died in his arms because of a bullet meant for him. Love was something to fear, and he was terrified.

“Now, it’s unpleasant and it’s unkind. But when I am…”

“I’ll remind you,” she finished, “of where you belong.”

Tommy cupped her face, placing a kiss on her head. “Good.”

She closed her eyes. Her heart too fragile for Thomas Shelby’s confession. He hadn’t proposed, yet they were already exchanging vows.

“Last.” He leaned his head on hers. “And the most important.”

“Yes,” she breathlessly whispered.

Tommy’s finger traced her bottom lip before he kissed her. His lips hungry to taste her. Selfish in his desire - his consumption of her. He groaned when he felt her kiss him back. Her own need just as desperate as his. She moaned when their lips parted, disappointed by her body’s need for air.

“I promise to have you pregnant by spring.”

Her eyes lit up as she laughed for the first time in months. She chuckled, not taking him seriously. “Tommy.”

“A boy,” he declared, wrapping his arms around her middle. “He’ll have your eyes and my charm.”

She giggled, playfully hitting his chest as he picked her up and placed her on the bed. Her smile widening as she gazed at him. She was returning to herself - returning to him. Weeks of grief slowly thawing from her heart.

Tommy stamped out his cigarette before joining her with a kiss. His body on top of hers. His hands on either side of her head. His mind fixated on the softness of her skin.

“I’ll be back at work in the morning,” she whispered in between kisses.

“You won’t be working anymore.”

She pulled away from his kiss, frowning at him. “What are you on about, Tommy?”

He sighed, already knowing he was about to start another fight. “I won’t have you working with a child of mine inside of you.”

“What?”

“You’ll be carrying my son,” Tommy repeated.

Closing her eyes, she realized he was serious. Of course, he was serious. She wondered how long he’d been planning to get her pregnant again.

“I don’t deserve you,” Tommy kissed her lips. “But, I promised to give you a life worthy of everything you are.” He reminded her. “I promised to let you in my head. I promised to do more than just wait to die. I promised to live.”

She wanted to be angry with him, but he remembered. Every word. Every promise. Everything they had discussed in his office.

“I promised to keep you safe.”

“To make us safe,” she corrected.

He kissed her again. “There are no other girls,” Tommy confessed, reminding her of his other promise. Tommy Shelby was hers.

Grabbing his collar, she pulled him into a long kiss. “No more running,” she vowed.

Tommy smiled. “No more.” He pressed his lips on hers before adding, “You’re mine.”

This time, she didn’t argue, simply letting him kiss her. “Now, where were we, Mrs. Shelby?” He asked, slipping his fingers between her thighs.

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

This was a long one. If you made it to the end, thank you for reading! Let me know your favorite part.

[brummiereader]

She Loves Me, She Loves Me Not (ONE SHOT/ DARK!TOMMY & YANDERE! ARTHUR)

Summary: Enter the mad paranoia of Tommy and his brother Arthur as they try to prove to themselves that you and Bunny's loyalty belongs with them after their discovery of your planned escape.

Warnings: Language, violence, angst, mentions of blood, mentions of murder, psychological mind games, psychological manipulation, psychological abuse, controlling behaviour, Dark!Tommy & Yandere!Arthur (This is a dark fic, please read the warnings before continuing)

Authors Note: This story is a merge of two worlds, Dark!Tommy & Y/N from "Killing Me Softly" and Yandere!Arthur & Bunny from "Hey Bunny", written by my incredibly talented friend and mutual @call-sign-shark. I can't recommend enough to go and check out her fantastic series!

" Look at 'em Tom" Arthur said quietly to his brother as he turned his back to you and Bunny from across the room sitting at the large mahogany table next to eachother. " They think we don't know what they're up to" he grinned darkly as his younger brother smirked in agreement, watching you pull up the strap of your emerald dress. Little did you know yours and Bunny's plan to escape the shackles of torment the two Shelby brothers had been relentlessly inflicting on you both would soon be eclipsed by another plan, one the siblings had concocted a fortnight ago after finding out your intentions to flee. "Why would they do that ay, scheming behind our backs like that? Don't they fucking love us? " Arthur said through gritted teeth, his mood quickly changing from anticipation of playing out their sadistic game to a temper rapidly rising within him. Volatile, unhinged and quick to snap. If Tommy wanted the night to go as planned he needed to calm his brothers erratic emotions and keep control of the situation.

" Here" Tommy said pulling out a small blue bottle of cocaine from his suit pocket which Arthur snatched out of his hand like a starved animal, snorting its contents within a few seconds. " After tonight we'll... Ey! Arthur, Listen!" Tommy said tapping the side of his brothers cheek in attempts to hold his attention as Arthur wiped the remnants of the white powder from his nose. " After tonight we'll know. We'll no where their loyalties stand" Tommy said with his hand firmly placed on his older brothers shoulder as Arthur nodded his head glancing over at Bunny.

"I can't lose my Bunny Tommy" Arthur said, his eyes wide, his body suddenly jittery with panic as he looked back to his brother.

" Fuck sake..." Tommy mumbled under his breath. Clearly the sweet release of his brothers preferred drug of choice hadn't warranted the affect he had hoped for or at least, not yet. " Arthur will you calm the fuck down, you're starting to creep me out" he replied cocking a brow as he returned to looking at you. His eyes roaming over your body as he bit his bottom lip imagining you naked as he pinned you...

" Tom, Tom..." Arthur said nudging his brothers arm with his elbow, breaking him out of his fantasy or rather, the plans he had for you at the end of the evening.

"She nearly escaped a few weeks ago" Arthur said quietly as he looked over to Bunny staring aimlessly into her glass, watching the amber liquid glisten from the warm light of the chandeliers as the soft music from the gramophone played out.

" And I told you. You gotta double lock. They're sneaky Arthur, they'll try and find a way out" Tommy replied as Arthur's eyes cast down to the wooden floorboards, mentally scolding himself for forgetting his brothers wise words of wisdom. After all, Tommy had become an expert in this field of debauchery. "Chin up, ey?"

" Yeh Tom, yeh..." Arthur replied as he pinched his bottom lip together, sniffing back his worries. " Right, fuck" he said clapping his hands together shaking of the last remnants of his wandering paranoia.

" That's it brother. Come on, let's have some fun" he said patting his back as they strode over to you both, the evenings festivities minutes away from starting. "Bunny" Tommy said with a smirk etched on his face as Arthur stood beside him, biting his inner cheek as he tried to hold back his excited amusement. " Sweetheart" he said sending you a wink as he looked at you from head to toe, his eyes glazing over with a smoky hue of lust as he got lost in his thoughts once again. "You two have been busy, haven't you?" Tommy said as he lit a cigarette looking between you both as Arthur wagged his index finger back and forth.

"Con..cocting something" Arthur added, his jaw tightening at the mere thought of deception as Bunny's hand squeezed yours under the table, her pulse beating so fast you could feel it vibrating against your skin.

"Arthur" Tommy said nodding to his brother who reached under the table, pulling out both of your suitcases. " Tut tut tut, going on a holiday without us, huh ladies?" Tommy said with a smirk glaring at you as your eyes widened in disbelief. You had both been so careful, so diligent in your plans. It was a miracle you managed to get as far as you had with the few times Arthur had brought Bunny over to Arrow house. "Your clothes, the children's clothes. Did you not pack anything of mine for this little getaway?" Tommy said as Arthur slammed the suitcases onto the table in front of you, pouring out both of their contents.

" Yeh, didn't see my swimming trunks in there Bunny" Arthur spat as he stared her down, the vein in his neck protruding from his escalating fury.

" A..Arthur, I...I" Bunny sobbed, stumbling her words out as Arthur loomed over the table, his fists clenched so tight they turned a ghostly shade of white. He was keeping her safe, keeping her from the dangers this city held for every woman that dared to venture out alone, why didn't she see that? Who knows what crazed person she could have run into, it's a good thing he was there to stop her from making that mistake. Arthur thought to himself as he stood up straight, rolling his shoulders of the tension that had been building up.

" Now you've both been very naughty. And we don't like naughty girls do we brother?" Tommy said picking up one of your lace knickers from within the pile by the end of his finger, cocking a brow as he put it in his suit jacket.

" No we don't. We like respectable, honest, loyal...obedient girls" Arthur said sniffing back the remnants of the cocaine he had snorted.

"That's right. You see, me and Arthur are starting to feel like your loyalty doesn't belong with, like you don't... love us"

" We feel betrayed, unappreciated"

" Those are strong word's brother. But betrayed and used we are, and after everything we have done for you" Tommy said furrowing his brow, an expression of hurt spread across his face, believable if it wasn't for the smirk playing mischievously on the corner of his mouth. "So, seeing how you two like to play games we have each come up with a way you can prove your loyalty to us and put our poor tired minds at ease. Right Arthur..."

" Tommy... darling, wait..." You panicked, tears welling in your eyes as Bunny quietly whimpered beside you, her hand now gripping yours even tighter.

" Not now sweetheart. The games about to start" Tommy said as he stood up from the edge of the table. "Arthur, if you don't mind" he said taking a drag of his cigarette as he leaned against the back of the sofa behind him.

" Eeny, meeny, miny, moe..." Arthur started to sing as his finger moved from you to Bunny. "Catch a spider by.."

" Tiger Arthur, it's fucking tiger" Tommy sighed, rubbing his brow with his thumb.

" Same bloody thing" Arthur replied snapping his head back to his brother about to finish the rhyme when Tommy interjected again.

"Tell me eh, when was the last time you saw a spider with toes Arthur?" Tommy huffed as he and Arthur started get into an argument over the words to the nursery rhyme whilst bunny squeezed your hand, her eyes darting to the door then back to you to which you furiously shook your head at. There was no way you would both make it out, no matter how intense their ridiculous argument was getting. Whatever punishment was heading your way would be far worse if you tired to take your chances and make a run for it. " Alright! Alright! Just get on with it" Tommy said giving up, as Arthur's face lit up with a satisfied grin.

" It's toe, if it wiggles..." He said stopping his finger at bunny, wagging his finger from side to side with a unhinged grin on his face. " I'm gonna come over there and make you wiggle" Arthur giggled climbing over the table to Bunny when Tommy kicked the bottom of his boot.

" Arthur, behave " Tommy chuckled, they were enjoying this, their twisted little game no doubt the highlight of their week.

"Let it go, eeny, meeny, miny, moe" Arthur finished his finger pointing at you." You're up Y/N" Arthur announced as Tommy stood up grinning from ear to ear. " Y/N get up" Arthur said with his arms on his hips huffing as he looked back to Tommy. He wanted his turn and you were holding up the nights festivities with your reluctance to move. " She ain't budging Tom"

" Tommy please I'm sorry. I got scared, we got scared we panicked. Tommy our children..." You said tears streaming down your face as your eyes darted from Bunny to your husband .

" It's true Arthur, we just..." Bunny started to say as she swallowed back her tears.

" See this is the kind of shit you shouldn't fool for. Crocodile tears that's all that is. Arthur, please..." Tommy said cutting Bunny off as he motioned to the table, which Arthur flipped over in one quick motion.

" Aw would you look at that Tom. They're holding hands" Arthur pointed out to his brother at you and Bunny still clinging onto eachother for dear life, a film of sweat the only thing separating you.

" Adorable" Tommy said as he blew a cloud of smoke through the smirk on the corner of his mouth.

" Sister in law's supporting eachother, it's gonna make me cry." Arthur taunted as Bunny's eyes snapped to him, her face suddenly going a deathly shade of white at the thought of being shackled to this crazed man for life. " Yehh that's right Bunny, gonna make a Shelby out of you one day. Put a Shelby in that belly too. Maybe we'll skip the wedding part first, ay? He grinned as his tongue pressed on the roof of his mouth, his rabid eyes roaming over her body.

" Come on Arthur your scaring her" Tommy chuckled darkly as he flicked the ash of the end of his cigarette onto the floor.

"Yeh well, you're already on your third I gotta catch up" Arthur replied in annoyance that his baby brother was ahead of him in anything.

"What can I say I have strong swimmers" Tommy smirked winking to you. The only reason why Tommy was now a father of three was he never gave your body a moment's rest before he would climb on top of you again and have his way after each birth of your children, you were a laying hen, not a wife. "Come on darling, up you get" Tommy said walking over to you as he grabbed you by your arm, pulling you away from Bunny whose hand was still desperately holding onto yours, both of you now crying uncontrollably, every sob every whimper laced in terror. Breaking you apart, Arthur grabbed hold of Bunny as she scrambled forward to you.

" Now now Bunny, we have to take turns " Arthur said as his hand came down to her waist his fingers lacing between the soft fabric of her white flowing dress, one he had brought especially for her. She looked so innocent so pure. But Why was she crying, tonight was supposed to be fun? He thought to himself as he tried to catch her eye, her refusal to do so twisting his stomach into a knot of anger that he quickly digested before he lost his temper and spoiled the evenings games. "Come on Bunny" he said guiding her over to the sofa as you and Tommy were now sat opposite eachother at a small table in the corner of the room.

" Do you love me Y/N?" Tommy asked as he pulled a revolver from his holster.

"Of...of course..." You replied sniffing back your tears as he placed it on the table in front of you both, your eyes widening further as he pulled out one single bullet. You were used to Tommy's mind games, but they never involved lethal weapons like the one sitting in front of you. He had already warned you to never attempt to run again, and this time you had been so brazen about your plan you had made it clear with the contents of your suitcase you intended to take his children too.

" And do you trust me?" He asked sitting back as he spun the bullet on the table in a circle.

" Tommy... what's happening, what are you going to do? You replied, your voice shaking as you looked at the bullet spin around one last time, the curved edge now pointing at you.

" I'm the one asking question, now do you trust me?"

"Tommy..."

"Answer the fucking question Y/N!" Tommy snapped slamming his fist onto the table as Arthur giggled at his brothers outburst of anger. " You're making me angry love, and you know what happens when I get angry"

" I trust you Tommy" you quickly reassured him as Tommy glared at you, playing with the bullet between his fingers.

" Good" he said taking the gun, his hand hovering over the chamber as you closed your eyes, blinking the tears away from your blurry vision." We're going to play a little game" he said snapping it shut, spinning the cylinder before placing it back between you both. " Russian Roulette. Learnt it from some batshit crazy Russian years ago. Didn't want to play with her, but I do with you" Tommy smirked as he looked at the confusion on your face having never heard of the game." You won't have to worry your pretty little head with the rules. It's simple" he said, taking every opportunity he could to belittle you. " One bullet, 6 chambers. We take turns firing the gun..." he paused watching your eyes widen " Right here" he finished pointing to the side of his temple, when you abruptly stood up, pushing your chair back as Tommy reached over the table grabbing your arm.

" Tommy no, you're sick! You're fucking insane. I won't do this, I fucking won't!" You shouted to him trying to pull away from his vice-like grip circling your wrist.

" Yes love I know, I'm such a bad man" Tommy said sarcastically having heard you already insult him plenty of times before. " But you will play or else I'll send one of the girls away. And you'll never see them again. Do you understand me?"

" No! You can't do that, Tommy..." You pleaded as he pulled you down back into your chair. Three daughters, you had given him three beautiful girls in the short time you had been married, but that wasn't enough. Tommy wanted a son, an army of sons. And with his lack of a paternal bond with his daughters you knew he wasn't bluffing.

" I can and I will. It's not like we can't have another. He smirked, pushing the gun towards you. " Ladies first"

"Tommy .." you pleaded one last time as you looked at the gun in front of you.

" You're testing my patience sweetheart. If you really want to do this, then fine" Tommy said as he leaned back in his chair looking over his shoulder to the door." Frances, bring me the baby" Tommy called out his eyes darting back to see the fear rising within you as he waited for a response, waited for you to play along. Within seconds you picked up the gun, sobbing as tears streamed down your face. "Never mind" he called out as he nodded his head to the gun in your hand. Lifting the revolver to your temple you squeezed your eyes shut, the coolness from the metal pressing against your skin sending a shiver down your spine. You would die for your children if it meant keeping them safe, if it meant keeping them from their father's torment. With your finger resting above the trigger you closed your eyes, hoping for a way out, from this life, from him. The gun pressed against your head didn't feel so damming after all...click. The chamber was empty, no bullet spent. You was still here, you was still alive. Gasping for air you threw the gun on the table which Tommy picked up, instantly putting it to his head and pulling the trigger without a second thought. Another click. No shot fired. The second turn mirrored the first. Through sobbing tears and thoughts of your children you pulled the trigger again, while Tommy's calm demeanor stayed exactly that, calm. Only two chambers left, one empty one with a bullet that would end either one of your lives.

" Tommy please, I love you, I trust you. We don't need to do this, we dont need to prove anything." You cried as Tommy took the gun putting it in your hand and placing it to your head.

" Pull it Y/N" Tommy said pushing your finger over the trigger.

" Tommy!" You wept uncontrollably, as a rush of fear overtook you, the sudden thought of your children being motherless the only thing holding you back from the years of torment you wanted to escape.

" Fucking pull it! he yelled at you as you wailed holding onto his arm, begging him to stop."Pull it!" He shouted again as you closed your eyes, the image of your daughter's playing within the grounds of Arrow House flashing before you...click. Dropping the gun on the table your hand flew to you mouth, you felt sick physically sick. But with no time to reflect on what had just happened Tommy had the gun already pointed to the side of his head...click. The gun was empty, it had been fucking empty all this time.

" See Tommy lad, she does trust you!" Arthur cheered as you abruptly stood up from your chair, your hands out behind you as you stumbled back away from Tommy's piercing stare, away from the smirk and enjoyment spread across his face.

"You tricked me! " you screamed as Tommy stood up and marched towards you, pinning you between the wall as his body.

" What, you think I want the mother of my children dead or fatherless? Oh darling, I never play by the rules, you should know that by now" he said as his hand cupped your cheek his eyes centimeters from yours. " I told you to trust me and you did, there's no doubt where your loyalty stands where your love stands" he said quietly in your ear, a slow exhale of hot air from his lips sending a wave of goosebumps down you neck.

" Look how your getting me" he smiled against your delicate flesh as he grabbed your hand cupping it around the growing bulge under his suit trousers, his aroused state throbbing under your hand as you turned your head away in disgust at his sadistic kink. " I'm gonna fuck you so hard tonight, I'll put a fourth in you. A fucking son." Tommy seethed in your ear whilst an untimely hint of a smirk graced your lips, unable to hold back the satisfaction that Tommy, the man who gets what he wants whenever he wants didn't have control over mother nature. You should have known better than to let it slip, for everything you did that displeased Tommy was worthy of punishment, and that small smirk hadn't gone unnoticed.

" Don't look Bunny" Arthur laughed with his arm wrapped around her shoulders. " My baby brothers pretty sick, he gets off from that kind of thing. Don't worry though sweetheart, I'm not like that" Arthur said with a smirk, his legs widening, pushing hers further to the edge of the sofa as he glared at her heaving chest.

"Your turn Arthur" Tommy said grabbing your hands, putting them behind your back as he walked you over to the sofa opposite them.

" Y/N..." Bunny cried wanting to reach out to you and she watched you slump into the sofa, the colour drained from your body. You were a broken woman. And as Tommy placed his arm around you, pulling you into his side, his lips ghosting over your neck, she suddenly felt like she was watching her own future. Beaten, broken and tired. Would this be her fate too?

" Bring in the contestants" Arthur jumped up as he walked over to the door snapping Bunny out of the haunting image of herself chained to a life of misery and abuse.

" Come on, fucking move" Arthur said behind the door as he walked in with two young men bound and gagged his gun pointing to their backs. "Kneel" Arthur spat, pushing the two men in front of Bunny as they struggled to keep themselves from falling over at her feet.

"Arthur, what's going on?" she said shifting forward in her seat, her eyes darting in a panic from Arthur to the two men in front of her as your own eyes widened in horror at the realisation of who they were. A chauffeur Tommy had hired only a few weeks ago, a sweet boy who's sole focus was the job in hand. And then...Harry. The stable boy who had been working on the grounds of Arrow House since he was a child. Both innocent young men, but not in the eyes of Arthur. For Arthur they had overstepped the line and he was seeking justice.

"Both of them were ogling you when we visited three weeks ago, so pick" he said matter of fact, without any further detail.

"Pick, what .."

" Pick one" Arthur replied handing her the gun as he sat beside her, his arm back securely draped over her shoulders as she watched the whimpers and cries of both the men, or rather boys hunched over eyes cast down. " So bunny, who's the lucky fella?" Arthur said turning to her staring blankly between both men. "Bunny?"

" Arthur no, nobody looked at me and even if they did I... I only have eyes for you I only want you. " Bunny pleaded knowing the very words he wanted to hear. Smiling, Arthur brushed his thumb down her cheek wiping the lone tear from her soft skin.

"Sorry darling but you're gonna have to pick. Both of these dirty fucks were looking at you, and I can't have that Bunny. But since I'm a forgiving man, a gentleman..." He said his moustache twitching at his high regard for himself. "...you only have to pick one" Arthur said as Bunny started to cry at the realisation she couldn't escape Arthur's sadistic game as much as you couldn't escape yours.

" Arthur, will you get your girl to fucking hurry up" Tommy said moving his lips from your neck for the briefest of seconds, his hand firmly grasped on your hip to stop you from moving.

"I know this is a big decision but you're making my brother upset Bunny " He said kicking the chauffeur, his muffled whimpers irritating him. "He wants to fuck his wife you see, and since we're guests in his house it's only polite we don't make him wait. Tick tock, tick tock" he smiled looking at the gun in her lap then back to her quivering bottom lip. " Fuck sake " he said standing up taking the gun from her realising her unwillingness to play along. Arthur was precariously on the edge of loosing his temper, his thirst for revenge was strong and he wouldn't end this game before one or both men were six feet under. " Which one bunny, the stable boy or the chauffeur" he smiled unnervingly as he pointed the gun at the back of each of the men's head.

"Arthur no! Stop, please..." Bunny pleaded endlessly, her strained efforts going unheard. You can't reason with a mad man, a man not only consumed by his own paranoia but also his obsession and love for the woman he had be holding captive.

" Pick bunny now! Arthur shouted putting the gun down on a small table beside him as he took a pair of black gloves from his back pocket as the muffled sobs of the two men intensified, the suffocating atmosphere in the room only increasing when Arthur picked up the gun again.

" Arthur we...we just greeted one another...it was innocent, don't make me do this dont do this, please..."

" Bunny I ain't repeating myself. Now pick!" He yelled as he pushed both his hands onto his forehead, pushing back the escalating fury within him, trying with all his might to not...snap. "Fucking pick, pick, pick!

"Arthur stop it, stop!" Bunny screamed closing her eyes when a loud gun shot boomed within the four walls and a heavy thud of a body hit the wooden floorboards below them. " Arthur..." Bunny said as she opened her eyes, her bottom lip wobbling in terror as she looked down in front of her to see the young chauffeur laying on the floor, a pool of blood surrounding his lifeless body.

" Picked for ya bunny" Arthur said his chest heaving up and down, hair disheveled, his eyes crazed as he smiled manically at her.

" Fucking hell Arthur, you got blood all over my walls!" Tommy said gesturing with his hand, more bothered about his immaculate home now splattered with blood than the dead body a few feet away from him.

" Sorry 'bout that brother" Arthur said smoothing his hair back away from his face as he looked down at his work, his grin turning into a satisfied smirk.

" Right we all done for tonight?" Tommy said standing up pulling you up with him, his hand snaking along your back down between your thighs as you squirmed under his touch.

" In the big guest room tonight yeh? With the big bed?" Arthur asked grabbing bunny by the arm pulling her trembling body over the lifeless man below her, dismissive of her horrified state, the tears cascading down her cheeks.

" Enjoy" Tommy winked nodding his head to his brother as he pushed you forward out the room. " Light a fire " Tommy said to one of his men standing by the entrance, gesturing back to the room where a night of carnage and terror had just played out, where Harry was still knelt beside the young man whose life had been so brutally taken. With Tommy's hand firmly on the curve of your back you slowly walked up the stairs, your body still trembling from the nights events.

" Arthur your Bunny's hoping away, keep control of it or put it back in its cage " Tommy said as you came to a stop in front of your room, watching Bunny frantically run down the corridor.

" It's alright, we're just playing" Arthur replied with a crazed giggle as he chased after her. Closing the master bedroom door behind him Tommy watched as you stumbled back to the edge of the bed a devilish grin gracing his lips as he stalked forward undoing his belt.

"Now about that smirk..."

[tryingtofindava]

𝐃𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐁𝐄𝐍 𝐃𝐫𝐨𝐰𝐧𝐞𝐝 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧𝐬*ೃ༄

: ̗̀➛Back to source

a/n: soz it takes awhile to get to the point mb.

It started off with you chatting with Clever Bot, innocent enough. You’d ask it random questions, it would ask you random questions. That went on for a few weeks.

Until the questions started getting more personal.

Asking you how your friends party was, or if you were okay after nicking your finger with the knife while chopping strawberries.

The bot even started calling you by your name, which you definitely hadn’t told it...

But in return it told you it’s name!!

He was called BEN.

That’s when you stopped using the site all together, not wanting to put up with the total bullshit this bot was putting you through.

Until the site started randomly popping up while you were using your devices, his messages it was sending you getting more condescending.

That’s the night he finally showed his face to you.

You were sitting on your apartments couch, watching some shit horror movie. When the screen started to get all glitchy.

That’s when the hand popped out.

ANYWAYS!!

Now you have this random dude in your apartment, and he’s messing around with everything he can get his hands on.

Saying shit like-

“It’s cool being in your room and not just seeing it through your laptop.”

Creepy… he’s very creepy.

Even though he doesn’t mean to be (most of the time…)

Oh well.

He lives with you now.

Well, he likes to think he does, it’s not exactly official.

He just eats your food, sleeps on your couch, plays your video games.

And you being… oddly chill about the whole thing? Icing on the cake.

About 2 months with him crashing at your place, he starts to open up a bit more.

And trust me, he’s an open book.

But the whole drowning thing?

That’s a touchy topic. But he (eventually) opened up about the whole thing.

NOW FINALLY TO THE DATING HEADCANONS.

He’s very flirty.

But his way of flirting is literally so cheesy.

“Aside from being sexy, what do you do for a living?”

“Hey, my name’s Microsoft. Can I crash at your place tonight?” (He does that anyways)

“Feel my shirt. Know what it’s made of? Boyfriend material.”

Reallllll smooth, dude…

He flirts with you so much, that when he was genuinely taking interest and hinting at him liking you as more than friends?

that was difficult.

He dug himself his own grave. (again.)

It all clicked for you one day when you (finally) started noticing the signs that, hey… he didn’t mean that as a joke.

Now it was either you, or the beachy haired goblin that had to make the first REAL MOVE.

So, you finally grew a pair of balls and asked him out.

(He said yeah obviously.)

THE FIRST DATE WAS LITERALLY SO CUTE I’M FROTHING AT THE MOUTH.

like, I want to have a fucking Stardew Valley date. (srsly someone take me on a stardew valley date.)

Matching spider-man and hello kitty pyjama bottoms🔛🔝

Without a doubt he’s a stoner, so you guys get high and talk about the Five Nights at Freddy’s timeline & lore.

He’s obsessed w you.

You two making like rlly bad jokes and full on laughing, no not even laughing, snorting AND cackling w/ each other. (he laughs like Arthur from Arthur’s Christmas😭)

I am 100% convinced he’s named a wolf on Minecraft after you.

Speaking of Minecraft…

He’s a slut for putting your Minecraft beds together. He fr acts like you two don’t share a bed already.

You have to deadass bully him to take a shower. (bcs his just putting on the strongest men’s deodorant doesn’t work)

THIS IS SO RANDOM BUT HE’S LITERALLY OBSESSED W THE HUNGER GAMES.

Like, you two be binge watching that every 2 months.

He teases the shit outta you btw.

ESPECIALLY WHEN YOU GET CLINGY.

“God, you remind me of Moon Children.” Then he casually leaves the room, leaving you to wonder what tf Moon Children are.

His sleeping schedule is so fucked, that he goes to sleep at like 5AM and wakes up at 3PM. And he gets up from bed a lot during the night to randomly do something.

When he’s sick his voice is glitchy. (AND SOUNDS LIKE BABY JUSTIN BIEBER) What a combo.

He’s one touchy mf.

His hands ALWAYS have to be on you, around your shoulder, on your thigh, anywhere you’re comfortable with. (but that doesn’t mean he doesn’t push his limits.)

He spams you all day long, sending you out dated memes, or just sending videos of cats.

Since I’m running out of ideas I’d say the relationship is a solid 8/10. (abducting two points bcs he pulls the stupidest ‘pranks’)

✯.★*°•.°✯•.★*°°·.•°★•✯.★*°•.°✯•.★*°°·.•°★•

[strrwbrrryjam]

can you imagine being john and only learning that your brother has forgiven you for leaving for a year and only moments later, he dies.

over the course of the game we see so much of johns and arthurs relationship, it clear that they love each other, but there is still resentment between each other and there is still very much distance between them both

honestly i think what the catalyst for their reconciliation was jacks kidnapping in chapter 4, john finally accepting the role of jacks father, in a way, correcting the mistake made all those years ago, is what helped them work to repair the relationship

that and the fact that as time goes on and things get worse in the gang, hosea and susan arent listening to them and they dont know who in their gang would consider their doubts as traitor thoughts so its obvious that the only people that they can confide in is one another, as they have grown up with one another, that despite their differences and their perceived resentment and the trauma between the both of them, they can still rely on one another

over time and as things go on, they get closer as brothers to one another, they confide more in one another and arthur encourages john to leave the gang, to take his family and leave for a better life

until one night, they are on that mountain, on the run from the pinkertons, their former gang members, and from the man that raised them until, arthur decides he cant go on no more

his end is near anyway, whether its by the sickness that is filling his lungs with blood, or by a bullet by his former gang members, or being shot to death by pinkertons, there is no life for him left

and if he does survive, what next? does he deserve to live on? after taking the lives of so many people, beating desperate people till their pockets empty of their last dollar,

even then, even if he did get his happy ending, that you and i believe he deserves, can he live with what hes done? or whats been done to him? can he live with the guilt that he survived, while sean and lenny and molly and hosea and kieran and grimshaw and eagle flies.. didn't

so he chooses to stay, and to let marston live, or at least give him time to get away, to his family, something that arthur doesnt really have no more and give marston a chance for peace

but john.. john doesnt know whats going on in arthurs head, all he knows and all he sees is his brother stopping, and staying behind, and he pleads with arthur to keep going

but arthur tells him to stop, and that its the end for him, but it doesnt have to be the end for marston, and that he wants marston to leave, and to live and "be a goddam man"

and john tells him, "you're my brother," one final desperate plea, telling arthur that he still needs him, that there is so much left for him and arthur, tells him with quiet resignation in his tone, "i know," and he walks away

can you imagine being john, at the bottom of that mountain, thinking about the fact that was the last time he'll ever see arthur again, and that while arthur dies, he will live on with his family, the survivors guilt that chews away from him

thinking about the bonding moments that they will never get to have, they will never work on another job again, they will never share a drink over the campfire again, they will never share a laugh or a tired look when dutch or hosea or susan go on another tirade again, they will never comfort one another again, or share their woes with one another

he will never get advice from his big brother again, or have his brother rib him again, or have his brother take care of him again

that he will never see someone so dear to him, that has been for him the majority of his life again

can you imagine being john.

[gogogodzilla]

day 24, primal play

arthur morgan x reader warnings: nsfw 18+, dirty talk, unprotected sex, creampie, spanking, dubcon but they're roleplaying, medium/low honor arthur, public sex, bondage kinktober ☠︎︎ main masterlist ☠︎︎ read on ao3

It was a stupid game, really, and you truly shouldn’t be away from camp for such a long time. You tried to justify your absence by robbing and hunting as much as you could. This week, however, you were the one being hunted. 

The rules were simple. Arthur would give you a day head start as you got as far away from camp as you could, and he would track you and eventually ‘catch’ you. You were careful not to make this game last longer than a week. The need to ravish each other and the obligation to be at camp were both too great to deny yourselves for too long. 

In the beginning, you’d leave Arthur little gifts for him to find along the way. They’d have clues as to where you were going or small tidbits of the things you wanted him to do to you. He always made sure to keep your fantastical writings and make them a reality. 

It was the anticipation that kept you on edge for as long as the game lasted. You never knew whether the rustling you heard was just the wind or Arthur coming to claim his prize. 

You knew it was risky to turn your back, even just for a moment. Your fears came true when the familiar cool metal of a blade was pressed against your throat. You hadn’t even heard him come up behind you. 

“Now you oughta know better,” Arthur’s gravelly voice murmured against the shell of your ear. “Pretty little thing like you shouldn’t be all alone out here… Not with dangerous outlaws running ‘round these parts.” 

He dragged his knife slowly down your front, tracing every little dip and curve of your chest. You were ashamed by just how much his actions riled you up. He wrapped his bicep around your neck, keeping you trapped against him, as his knife trailed across the tops of your thighs. 

“You one of ‘em?” you questioned, pressing your ass into his groin. 

You felt the scratchy fabric of his bandana brush against the side of your neck as he pressed his nose against you, breathing in your scent. 

“Some would say that,” he hummed before sliding his knife into the holster on the back of his belt. Your body hummed with excitement and something… more. 

The rope of his lasso hit the back of your thigh, and he removed it from his belt with his free hand. “Hands behind your back, darlin’,” he ordered, and you wriggled against his grasp, feigning to put up a fight. 

He looped his foot around your ankle and brought you to kneel on the tall grass before pushing you to the ground. You thrashed in his grip as he settled his weight on your bottom half, and wrestled your hands behind your back, tying them together. 

“What are you doing?” you whimpered, tugging against the rope that bound your wrists. 

Arthur shimmied down to rest on the backs of your thighs and spread his hands across your ass, kneading the flesh there. “Little thing out here for the taking,” he murmured as his hands trailed up your sides and slid under you to grope at your breasts. 

You bit your lip, attempting to stifle the whine that threatened to escape you at his touch. He lifted himself so he was hovering over you and pulled your hips up so your ass was in the air, inviting his touch. 

He slid a hand across your calf and then under your skirt. His calloused fingers drug over the smooth skin of your thighs before moving to caress your clothed heat. You gasped as he teased you through the thin fabric of your undergarments. 

The unsheathing of his knife caused your ears to prick up and you felt the familiar cool metal of the blade pressed against your neck once again. 

“Gonna keep quiet for me, darlin’?” Arthur questioned as he used his free hand to tug your undergarments down your legs, leaving you bare for him. You gasped as the cool night air brushed against your cunt. 

You nodded quickly, “Yes, anything you want.” 

“That’s what I thought,” he hummed, satisfied with your answer. 

At the clinking of his gun belt leaving his hips, you pressed your core against him whining at the feeling of the rough denim of his jeans against you. He was quick to free his weeping cock from his jeans. He stroked himself once and then twice before sliding his length between your folds, eliciting a breathy moan from you. 

He leaned down so his chest was pressed against your back. “So wet for me, darlin’. You want this outlaw to use this pretty little cunt of yours?” he said as his breath fanned across your cheek, having pulled down his bandana at some point during your encounter. 

He didn’t give you enough time to answer before he was pushing his cock inside you, inch by aching inch. You groaned at the way he stretched you, the sharp prick of him entering you had you squirming. 

He pushed your thighs further apart with one of his knees as he began to rock his hips against yours. 

“Shit, darlin’,” he hissed with the slow drag of hips leaving you a moaning mess under him. “Should tie you up more often.” 

Each rut of his hips was deeper and harder, filling the open air with the sounds of skin slapping against skin and Arthur’s soft grunts. He moved his knife away from your neck and trailed it down your back, the tip of it leaving goosebumps in its wake. He moved to drag his knife over your clothed breasts, each thrust of his hips pressing the blade dangerously close to your skin.

With his free hand, Arthur reached around you to rub harsh circles around your clit. His pace was brutal, but you loved every second of it. He tossed his knife to the side, opting to grip your hip with one hand while the other stroked your clit.

A jolt ran through your being as a harsh smack lands across your ass, earning a yelp from you. Arthur was quick to run a soothing hand over the reddened flesh as his hips stuttered against yours. 

“Good girl,” he grunted, and his praise went straight to your core. 

He landed three more smacks across your ass before you were cumming harshly on his cock, squeezing him in a vice grip while your orgasm ripped through you. Each drag of his hips through your heat was bringing him closer to the brink as his pace increased. He came with a strangled groan as he filled you to the brim, his white hot load coating your walls. 

You relished the feeling of him inside you. His cock twitched as he came down from his orgasm and his hips slowed. Within a few moments, he was pulling out of you and a whine was escaping your lips. You loved the feeling of his cum dripping out of you and covering your thighs, and Arthur groaned at the sight. 

“So beautiful,” he hummed as his fingers danced across your thighs. 

You rolled onto your back, grinning, “Think this was the quickest you’ve caught me.”

Arthur grunted, “I had Charles teach me a few tricks. Told him I needed some help hunting.” 

You laughed as you looked up to the stars. You’d have to give Charles your thanks.

[emeritusemeritus]

Just wanna bewitch you in the moonlight. Pt 6.

[Fred Weasley x Reader x George Weasley]

Part 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12

Title: Just wanna bewitch you in the moonlight.

Pairing: Fred Weasley x Reader x George Weasley

Timeline: Predominately set between GOF and OOTP (some canon has been altered to fit the story)

Summary: Both twins like Gryffindor!reader. Reader likes both twins. How will she decide who to chose in the end? Amortentia might be able to help, or not.

Warnings: Smut, oral sex, p in v sex, established relationships, threesomes, friends to lovers, all the good stuff. NO Twincest. Mentions of illness, Brief mentions of vomiting. Tiny bit of angst, possessiveness, talk of kids. Mentions of dominant behaviour. Snape has a soft spot for reader. Love potions? But none are actually used.

Just a whole load of Weasley family fluff for you all before the dirty Freddie stuff begins 🤍

The next week carried on much the same, with classes, quidditch games and time spent with your friends. After receiving a week long detention for whatever prank they'd decided to pull this week, you had hardly seen the twins apart from mealtimes when you were forced to hide the nature of your relationship from your friends.

Monday morning rolled around and instead of dressing in your robes and gathering your potion books, you were packing up the last remaining items into your little trunk, ready to spend the week's holiday at the Burrow. Hermione and Harry would also be joining the Weasley's again, though Hermione was only staying for a few days until she went home to her parents.

You'd initially all planned to go back Saturday morning but Molly had sent an owl to Ginny, letting you know that her and Arthur had to make an emergency visit to great-aunt Muriel and asked for you all to arrive Monday instead. Fred was livid, having planned his weekend in advance with you, though he'd not told you any details. You'd managed to talk him round and George had formidably offered for him to spend the day with you on whatever day he wanted, knowing that he had you last week. Fred had managed to calm down after that and had agreed to George's counter offer, though he was still a little tetchy about it.

A knock at the door made you pause your packing as you shouted out for the caller to enter. In walked Fred, closely followed by George, who both seemed too awake for this early in the morning.

"Your tea mi'lady," George smiles, bowing his head as he passes you a steaming cup of tea.

"Why thank you kind sir, your token is much appreciated," you joked back, grabbing the cup of tea from his hands and moving forward to place a kiss on his lips. He smiles down at you with a look of pure love and kisses your forehead as you place the tea on your bedside table to let it cool.

"A grateful blowjob would also be much appreciated," he chuckles, causing you to whack him in the arm. He laughs, as does Fred, and grumbles under his breath about it being 'worth a shot'.

"So why does he get all the kisses?" Fred whines like a child. You turn and laugh, seeing his bottom lip pushed out.

"He brought tea," you reasoned cheekily only for Fred to let out a dramatic gasp. You couldn't deny him any longer and moved towards him to give him a sweet kiss. His arms wrapped around you, refusing to let go as he planted more kisses over your face as you squealed.

"I have to pack!" You said, breaking free from him and moving towards your trunk whilst the boys threw themselves down on your bed, absently levitating a quill between them as they watched you pack.

"So are you looking forward to it?" George asks, watching you closely as you pack up your toiletry bag.

"Of course, watching the sunrise over the hills, your mum's cooking and your dad asking me 10,000 questions about aeroplanes- can't wait," you laughed, prompting them to chuckle too.

"Wish we could be open about everything though," George says, the conversation suddenly turning a little downward. Fred nodded his head agreeing with his brother and you silently agreed too, knowing how hard it would be to have to pretend again that you were all just friends in front of everyone.

"Let's just not think about it," Fred says, trying to divert the conversation, "see it this way mate," he says turning his attention to George, "if mum thinks we're just friends with y/n/n, we can get up to so much more. If she was a girlfriend she'd be locked away with Ginny and Hermione the whole time!"

He did have a point, you thought. George seemed to get onboard with this way of thinking pretty quickly and immediately went back to pestering you again.

"That reminds me, I'm having a sleepover with Ginny this week, whatever day we're not doing something," you said, trying to close up your trunk. You'd left a few things back in George and Fred's room at the Burrow so you didn't have to take everything back and forth with you, but there was some additional stuff you needed and cramming it into your small case was no easy feat.

The twins immediately began grumbling, mainly Fred, but you shot them a look which told them you wouldn't hear any nonsense on the matter, which did actually shut them up.

"Bloody hell, you could be a Weasley woman with that glare," George says chuckling to himself.

"Don't, last thing I want right now is to hear Bill's name come out of her mouth," Fred grumbles, absently scrunching up a piece of scrap parchment and throwing it across the room.

"Actually, I wasn't going to say anything about him," you said, trying to keep Fred from being in a bad mood, "I was going to ask which of you would make me a Weasley."

"Both," they instantly replied, smirking at you. Seeing Fred's smirk and George's dreamy smile, you smiled, feeling your heart warming at their words.

"So, train or Floo?" You asked, still struggling to close up the trunk and getting a little more frustrated than you should. Fred silently stood from the bed and rolled up his sleeves, pressing down on the case hard as he managed to get it closed, doing the stiff latches with little effort. The whole act shouldn't have been as hot as it was but for some reason you melted at the sight, feeling a tingle spread over your lower body at the sight of his veined forearms.

"Floo," Fred says, hopping back down onto the bed.

"Dad can't fit us all in the car and muggle taxis would be too expensive," George explains, sitting forward as you take a few sips of your tea. "Mcgonagall has a fireplace in the transfiguration office, Hermione managed to talk her round and she's letting us use it."

"Bloody hell, how did she manage that?" You asked, surprised that Mcgonagall would allow students to do that.

"We asked the same thing," George says with a laugh.

"Shame it's not Potion master's office, eh princess?" Fred smirks, never one to leave things alone.

"What are you babbling on about?" You ask with a frown, feeling a sudden shift in the conversation you were definitely not prepared for, especially so early in a morning.

"Just saying he seems a bit partial to you, don't get me wrong we can see why, but we've been here nearly seven years and he's never once given anyone house points that wasn't a slytherin," Fred says, leaning forward so that his elbows rested on his knees and his hand was leaning on his palm, a smarmy grin on his lips.

"What do you mean you can see why?" You ask, turning a little too defensive at Fred's words, knowing that it was close to striking a nerve.

"Well, you're hot, angel," George explains with a shrug, a little less bluntly than his oaf of a twin.

"Oh yeah because I'm sure old Snapey is just dying to bend me over a cauldron first chance he gets," you snark, "nothing to do with the fact I'm actually good at potions."

"Woah princess," Fred says, raising his hands, "we never said that."

You huffed out a breath to recalibrate yourself and took a big swig of your tea.

"But he probably could do with getting laid," Fred adds absently with George agreeing with him.

"Right, well next week I'll be sure to tell him I'm available to give him the best fuck of his life," you grumble, placing your now empty mug onto your bedside table.

"Like hell you are," they both say in unison, so sharply and defensively it was comical. You huff out a laugh and shake your head, moving to sit on your roommates vacant bed, facing them.

"Just saying, I'd be careful brewing love potions around him again," Fred laughs, clearly not knowing when to leave it alone. "You never told us anyway, what did you smell?"

You immediately feel like you'd swallowed a giant rock, the weight of his words making the colour drain from your face. It had been almost exactly a week since your little incident with the love potion and you'd successfully managed to push it out of your mind until now. You hadn't told anyone about what had happened, after all how could you and least of all the twins that were involved. You didn't want to involve them in this mess anymore than they already were and so you'd maintained your silence and deflected any questioning on the matter.

"Snape's greasy hair," you muttered sarcastically, walking away towards the little wardrobe at the side, pulling out your raincoat and a big jumper, ironically one that you'd 'borrowed' from George a little while back.

"I've been looking for that!" He says, clocking the jumper in your hand as you walk back over to them and flash him an innocent smile.

"Looks better on me," you shrug with a laugh, not even remotely apologetic. You were just glad that the conversation had diverted enough and been forgotten.

"Fair point," George says, throwing himself back on the bed, clearly not too annoyed at your niffler like qualities.

Hermione and Ginny arrived in your room a little while later and were initially surprised to see Fred and George lounging on your bed but played it off well as you all left to meet Ron and Harry down in the common room. George reached for your small but heavy case and shot you a subtle wink as he carried it down the stairs for you. Even when he grabbed his own bag, he never gave you back your case, despite your protests, and carried it all the way to Mcgonagall's office for you.

Mcgonagall greeted you all as she opened up her office door and tapped on the bricks beside the fireplace in a specific order, muttering a password quietly and essentially unlocking the fireplace until the flames shone green. She ushered you all forward and held out a little pot of Floo powder for you all to take as you stepped into the fire.

Hermione stepped through first, then Ron, Harry and then Ginny. George, still holding your case, shot you a quick wink, whispering that he'd see you on the other side as he stepped through, leaving just you and Fred.

"Go on princess," Fred said loudly, ushering you forward. Realising his faux pas, you shot a quick glance at Mcgonagall who had clearly overheard and tried to look away but you could see the hint of a smile tugging at the corner of her lips, making you blush.

You stepped into the fireplace, grabbed a handful of Floo powder and spoke clearly as you made your destination known. You were immediately transported straight to the Burrow, the comforting sights and smells of the home hitting you as soon as you stepped out of the fireplace, dusting yourself off quickly so you didn't cause a mess before you stepped aside, knowing that Fred would be following closely behind.

"Y/n, dear, welcome home!" Molly said as she moves quickly to embrace you. You're immediately struck by her words, feeling as if you could tear up at the notion she considered this your home too.

"Hi Molly," you smile, holding her tightly, "thank you for having me again."

"Oh you're always welcome dear you know this," she says pulling apart and briefly holding onto your shoulders until her son appears behind you in the flames.

She immediately rushes to greet him, briefly yelling at him to dust himself off as he mindlessly walks out of the fire covered in floo powder and ash, walking it straight onto the rug. She pulls him into a hug and pulls him down playfully by the ears so that he'll bend his head and she places a kiss on his head.

"Right, lunch!" She says, suddenly rushing off into the kitchen as her little muggle egg-timer rings out. You laugh, realising it's the chicken shaped egg timer you'd bought her last Christmas, after a long discussion with Arthur about muggle kitchen appliances. Molly had been fascinated at the novelty and was overjoyed by the little gesture.

"She uses it all the time," George says, hearing your little chuckle, moving to stand behind you, placing his hand tenderly on the curve of your hip, hidden out of sight behind Fred's body next to you.

"Y/n!" Ginny says, calling you over. You smile, linking George's hand for just a second where it stays placed on your hip, squeezing once before walking over to where Ginny and Hermione sat on the sofa.

"Can we have a sleepover tonight?" Her little face is so excited that you couldn't say no, having missed spending time with the girls. You cast a glance at the twins who were watching eagerly, having heard Ginny's request. You could tell they were leas than pleased but you implored them with your eyes, silently asking if they had plans for tonight, especially Fred. Fred shook his head gently, understanding your gaze and you gave them a warm smile before turning back to Ginny.

"Of course," you beamed, excited for the prospect of a girly sleepover. Both girls let out a little squeal and did a happy jig on their place on the sofa and you had to laugh along with them.

"Gin, will you braid my hair like last time?" You asked, remembering how she had knitted your whole hair into tight braids that ran along your head last time and wanted to do it again. You'd tried replicating it yourself a couple of times but it was much harder to do to yourself and has been entirely unsuccessful. You briefly wondered how she'd come to learn how to do it, looking round at three of her older brothers with currently long hair, wondering if she'd practiced on them, chuckling briefly at the thought.

"Of course! Will you do my makeup? You're so good at it and I never get it right!" Ginny grins and you nod enthusiastically.

"Sure, I have most of my stuff with me."

"I've bought a little portable DVD player and some discs so we can watch some muggle films!" Hermione says proudly, gesturing to the, frankly huge, trunk she had brought with her. You were honestly looking forward to it, feeling as if you needed a girly night away from the boys.

"Everyone, lunch!" Molly shouts from the kitchen. Ron immediately bolts into the kitchen, nearly leaving tire marks on the rug as he flies away, closely followed by Fred and George who manage to grab you en route and pull you along with them, plonking you down into the seat between them at the large table.

"Afternoon Weasley's!" Arthur says cheerfully as he walks through the kitchen door, carrying his briefcase and his flat cap under his arm. His timing is almost comical, like a sitcom entrance, just in time for lunch. Upon seeing you, Harry and Hermione he smiles and adds, "and honorary Weasley's!"

He's met by a chorus of morning dad and morning mr Weasley as he takes off his coat by the door and takes a seat at the head of the dinner table.

"Off for the week now kids?" He asks, pulling out a napkin and tucking it into his shirt.

"Yes mr Weasley," Harry replies, reaching for a couple of small sandwiches Molly had laid out after Ron started enthusiastically tucking in.

"Wonderful, now how has school been?"

You smile as you watch Mr Weasley interact with his children and the two addition kids he had pseudo adopted a few years back, seeing how he bloomed and exuded joy being surrounded by his family. It made you happy to see him so exuberant and animated as he discussed this terms quidditch season, beaming with pride as George, Fred and Harry spoke of their achievements on the pitch.

Being honest with yourself, it made your heart pang with sadness thinking of your own, largely absent father and what you had missed out on over the years. You wished one day that you would have a family much like this with a happy home and kids that never doubted their parent's love for them.

George subtly nudged your arm with his elbow, breaking you out of your little trance. He briefly frowned at you in concern as he shot a look towards your empty place, noticing that you were the only one who had not began eating.

You immediately shot him a smile, telling him not to worry and reached for a delicious looking homemade sausage roll.

"So y/n, you're approaching your sixth year, have you had any thoughts on the subjects you'll be taking for your N.E.W.T.S?" Mr Weasley asks before taking a large bite of an egg mayonnaise and cress sandwich, smiling at you with his kind eyes.

"Yes Mr Weasley, I actually have a meeting with professor Mcgonagall next Tuesday to discuss options, though I know I'd like to continue potions," you explain, placing some of the previously untouched salad onto your plate.

You can feel George's eyes on you at the new information, not having told him that your conversation last weekend had prompted you to reach out to your head of house for a career guidance appointment, which she was happy to schedule in for you.

"Potions, tricky subject," Mr Weasley says, sucking a breath through his teeth as he leans forward, "am I right in thinking that you need an outstanding at OWLS for NEWT entry?"

"Yes sir," you replied politely, taking a bite of your salad.

"And you achieved that?" He asks with an air of surprise. You nod, about to reply when you're interrupted by two familiar voices.

"She's brilliant," both twins said at the same time, making you laugh at the awkwardness of it.

"She brewed a love potion perfectly and Snape awarded her 30 house points! It's put us in the lead again for the house cup!" Ginny says excitedly as she munches on some crisps, having slightly more decorum than her slightly older brother.

"Wow, fantastic!" Mr Weasley says excitedly, "well done y/n!" He raises his glass of pumpkin juice and toasts to you, promoting a wide, beaming smile to spread over your face as you giggle.

"Oh well done dear, how brilliant," Molly says, moving behind you and patting your shoulder proudly.

You felt Fred staring at you to your right and when you looked up at him he was smirking down at you and shot you a quick wink.

"How are things at the ministry Mr Weasley?" Hermione asks and Arthur immediately begins talking business, or at least the parts that he can disclose.

The meal passes quickly in a blur of food, laughter and chatter and despite your protests of asking to help Molly clean up, she ushers you upstairs with the twins, who waste no time in pulling you away.

"So what time are you going to Ginny?" George asks as he closes the bedroom door.

"After dinner," you shrug, flopping down onto the bed.

"Perfect," Fred smirks as he reaches under the bed to pull out their box of mischief, ready to prep some owl post orders and do some tinkering.

The afternoon passes quickly as you help the twins with their business until Molly calls you all down for dinner. It's a messy affair with a gigantic cottage pie served up as family and friends converse and laugh at the table.

After dinner, you decide to quickly shower before the nighttime rush, washing your hair so that it's wet for Ginny to braid it. As you walk out of the bathroom in your pyjamas and back down the stairs, you see the twins bedroom door is open just a little and you poke your head in, knocking quietly to alert them.

"Miss us already princess?" Fred smirks from his place on the bed, now shirtless and reading his quidditch annual. George's head snaps up and he gives you a sweet smile from his place at the desk, pausing filling out the little order forms and parchment for the deliveries to give you attention.

"Always," you smile as you walk over to your case in the corner of their room, pulling out your hairbrush and makeup bag.

"And just when you think she can't get hotter, she gets wet," George smiles cheekily, causing you to roll your eyes.

"Don't know mate, I reckon she's always wet around us," Fred smirks, causing George to chuckle.

"Rotten boys," you mumble though your smile breaks through. You can't deny that there's something about seeing them so at home and comfortable which makes them seem ever hotter, and they probably weren't far wrong.

"Goodnight boys," you tease, briefly shooting a look towards the door as you lean down to give George a kiss. You then walk over to the bed and kiss Fred.

"Sweet dreams angel," George says with a sweet smile.

"You know where we are if you want a cuddle in the night," Fred smiles, winking at you as you walk out of the door and towards Ginny's room.

"Y/n! Perfect timing, mum sent these up!" Ginny says excitedly as you walk through the door, looking at the plate of biscuits in her hand and smiling. You put down your makeup bag on the little desk in Ginny's room and walked over to her mirror to brush your hair as they both make a space for you on the floor where you'd all be sleeping.

Seeing a few of the different blankets that were laid out, a blush creeped onto your cheeks at the memory of last weekend, of the same blankets strewn around as you made love to George.

"Okay, breakfast club or sixteen candles?" Hermione asks as she flicks through the little dvd wallet she's borrowed from her mum, filled with muggle movies.

"Breakfast club definitely!" You say, or rather insist, casting a glance back in the mirror as you try to untangle a particularly knotted strand of hair.

"Have you seen it? Mum says it's one of her favourites," Hermione smiles excitedly.

You nod with a chuckle, "yeah me and my friends have watched it a few times, it's one of my favourites too."

"Breakfast club it is!" Ginny says with a little squeal as she claps her hands. You take a moment to look at the two girls and see how perfectly happy they are. You'd grown up around boys yourself, most of your muggle friends being boys and then the twins, so you completely understood how valued a girly night could be, a chance to really bring out the side of yourself that you didn't often show too much.

"Okay, we have treats, a movie, I'll braid your hair and then you do my makeup? Oh I forgot drinks!" Ginny says, planning ahead.

"I'll go and get drinks," you smile, "what does everyone want?"

You make your way downstairs, seeing the twins' door is now shut and continue down until you reach the kitchen, seeing Molly sat at the table with a box of photographs out.

"Oh hello dear, can I get you anything?" She asks, immediately moving to stand by the table. You smile and shake your head, urging her to sit down.

"Just grabbing a few drinks, would you mind if I made a cup of tea? If my tea making skills weren't too horrible last time I could make you a cup too?" You laugh and she smiles warmly at you.

"That would be lovely dear, thank you."

You walk over and flick on the kettle seeing it already filled with water before pulling out two mugs and two glasses, filling the latter with pumpkin juice for the girls.

You cast a look back to Molly who looks sad, gazing at pictures of her kids when they were younger. You can see she's holding a picture of what looks to be a young Percy, smiling whilst holding an ice cream. Fred and George had mentioned the situation with Percy a few times, never quite explaining it in depth but you knew enough of his distancing to realise how much it must hurt her and Arthur.

When the kettle is done, you quickly fix the two cups of tea, her's with two sugars, and bring it over to her at the table.

"Thank you my dear," she smiles up at you though you can now see that the smile is masking a rather sad look in her eyes.

"Do you mind if I sit with you?" You ask. She briefly lifts her eyebrows in surprise before smiling again, this time genuinely as she offers you the seat beside her. "Do you want to talk about it?" You ask, surprising her again as you nod to the photo she's stroking with her thumb.

"Oh don't go bothering yourself with silly old me," she smiles but you shoot her a look which tells her that that is exactly what you wanted.

She begins telling you the story behind the photo and of a few more that appear, some of Percy and some of Ron, animatedly telling the tales and little quips from their childhoods. She looks so happy to walk down memory lane and you have to admit that it's nice to sit with her and listen.

She then pulls out a photo of the twins you had never seen, making you laugh as she passes it to you.

"So cute!" You hold it delicately and look upon the smiling faces of the boys, both stark naked except for a pair of Wellington boots on their feet, holding flowers and laughing at each other.

"Oh they'd hate to know I was showing you this," she giggles and you immediately see where the mischief in George and Fred comes from. Even seeing them no older than 2 or 3, you can immediately tell that Fred is on the right and George on the left. Fred's smile is wickeder whereas George's is playful and you can clearly make out a little freckle on George's right rib which is still prominent today.

She then pulls out another one and it looks like they're around 7 or 8 with a slightly younger and much shorter Ron stood beside them crying. Both twins are dressed identically in their raincoats as they stand cheekily with huge grins on their faces at what looks to be the seaside. George on the right is holding a fish that they look to have caught whereas Fred beside him isn't, until you looked at little wailing Ron who seemed to have a dead fish in his coat hood.

"I can never tell who's who in that photo," she admits and you smile.

"George is on the right," you say without thinking. She turns to you and you immediately realise that you might have said something incriminating.

"You've always been so able to tell them apart," she smiles, reaching for your hand and tapping it, "I'm envious but I'm so glad they have a friend like you. How can you tell?" She flicks her eyes back to the photo and tries to really look at their faces and you smile as you watch her so keen to tell them apart.

"George would never put a fish in Ron's hood unless Fred had dared him," you say with a chuckle, pointing at the missing fish in Fred's hand. "And he certainly wouldn't look that happy about it if he had." Molly laughs as she nods her head, seemingly understanding now that it's not always about physical differences.

"Fred and George were my happiest babies," she says with a fond smile as she digs through a stack of photos. "This one has always been my favourite of them."

She hands you the photo and you melt at seeing their happy little baby faces, an 'awww' noise falling from your lips subconsciously. They look less than a year old, both sat on the rug in front of a closed off fireplace, though the twin on the right is propped up slightly by a pillow, their smiles wide with only a few teeth between them, cheeks all round and chubby. You can make out little embroidered patches on their clothes, the one on the right with a G and the other with a little golden F sewn onto his tiny jumper. Even without the letters you could have seen who was who. George was looking directly into the camera, flashing his two bottom teeth whereas Fred was looking above the camera, beaming widely at whoever took the photo, his four front teeth gleaming from the flash of the camera. "They're so cute," you gush, handing her back the photograph.

"What's cute?" You hear, turning your head towards the voices, realising instantly that it's the twins. Molly immediately giggles, knowing how they'd react at seeing pictures of them.

"Your Wellington boots," you laugh as Molly erupts into more giggles.

"Mum!" They both shout running over, knowing instantly what you're referring to as they notice the box of photos on the table. You can't help but laugh along with Molly as she moves to put them away.

She grabs your hand again, ignoring the twin's protests and smiles at you, "thank you, I needed that."

"Anytime," you smile and she taps your hand motherly before pulling away and moving the box back to its place inside the cabinet.

Realising how long you've been gone, you reach for the two glasses of pumpkin juice and wink at the squabbling, blushing twins before climbing the stairs again.

"Sorry, sorry, your mum needed help with something," you explain as you enter Ginny's bedroom, now fully prepared for girls night.

——————

"I don't know, I think Andrew's cute!" Ginny says as you all debate over the hottest character in the breakfast club whilst you do Ginny's makeup. Ginny, true to form, fancied the blonde haired jock, whereas Hermione liked the science nerd Brian.

You'd watched the movie as Ginny braided your hair up into two tight braids that ran across your head and you were now discussing it whilst you gave Ginny a mini makeover.

"Y/n?" Hermione asks, turning to you, asking who your chosen character was.

"Bender obviously," you say matter of factly, laughing as you see their faces scrunch up.

"But he's so bad!" Hermione shouts, throwing her hands animatedly.

"Kind of the point 'mione," you smile, wiggling your eyebrows as you finish Ginny's eye makeup.

"Ahh she likes the bad boys!" Ginny squeals, causing you to roll your eyes and curse her for moving as you were filling in her eyebrows.

"So that's why you hang around with the twins so much!" Hermione giggles and you suddenly feel your throat go dry at her words. You knew that she hadn't truly meant anything by it but it still caught you off guard, realising that you needed to cover your tracks.

"Yeah right, you caught me," you laugh.

"So is there anyone you do have your eye on?" Hermione asks and you scramble to try and think of someone, anyone worth mentioning that would be believable. You come up empty. You can't think of a single boy you find even remotely attractive at school that wasn't ginger and 6ft 3.

"Not really," you lie, trying to sound as convincing as possible, "I guess I'm not really that interested? All the boys at school are just so immature and boyish."

"Once again, the twins?! They're your best friends and the most immature boys I've ever met," Ginny laughs, causing you to throw the nearest cushion at her. "You know I secretly always thought you'd end up with Fred."

"Huh?" You ask, a frown covering your face as your heart starts beating a little quicker at her words. She simply smiles and shrugs as Hermione nods her head in agreement.

"I just see the way he looks at you, and you two have always been so touchy and flirty, I thought for sure he would have made a move by now," Ginny says, shrugging again.

You immediately feel conflicted by her words, feeling torn between slight giddiness at hearing someone else's perspective on your secret boyfriend fancying you, but you also can't help the slight pang of remorse you feel at George not being included. You reason that most people can't even tell them apart and so maybe they just didn't see George being as flirty and attracted to you.

"You're all done," you say as you finish up Ginny's makeup, hoping that your slight diversion would stop the cut down the current  conversation.

She runs to the mirror and squeals in delight at seeing her shimmering eyes and long lashes.

Hermione giggles and messes with the DVD player, before slipping another disc out of the wallet.

"Okay, Sixteen Candles?"

[sixgunluvr]

An Outlaw's Desires

Mature Readers ONLY, 18+. pairing Arthur with a female reader, language, oral sex, light spanking, smut. Sorry if I forgot anything.

You had been stuck at camp for 5 days with no Arthur.

All you've had on your mind is Arthur, his touch, his smell, his smile, his eyes, and his cock.

You just need a little distraction to ease this God-forbid wild hunger for your man.

You fluffed your hair, straightened your skirt, and put on those heels that Arthur likes and made your way alone, into town. 

You had nothing planned other than just distracting yourself from the yearning.

The day was hot, the wind was wild, and the dust from the street had left you with a gritty taste in your mouth. As you approached the saloon, you heard the distant sound of laughter, rambunctious yips from a group of men playing poker, and a melancholy harmony of a faint, out-of-tune piano.

You entered the dimly lit saloon, and the scent of stale ale mixed with the musky aroma of crowded men filled your nose.

As your eyes adjusted to the low light, you saw him - Arthur, sitting at a table, surrounded by Charles, Javier, and Lenny. The shocked look and mix of relief swept across his face when he saw you.

"Damn it, woman! What the hell are you doing here?" He hastily rose, as if to protect you from this testing masculine world.

You stepped closer and placed a hand on his chest. "Miss me, darling?" you asked, trying to pull off a composed tone, but failing miserably.

That gorgeous smile that just fucked with your mind and heart spread across his rugged face. "Baby, I missed you every damn second of every day."

However, your wicked senses were now fully aroused, now noticing the saccharine-sweet perfume oozing from a luscious blonde draped over Arthur's arm.

"Hun, who's this?" She pouted, not quite understanding that you two shared something unbreakable.

"Lola, my sweet, this is the woman I've been living for every day.

I told you, I'm a taken man," Arthur replied with a playful grin, disengaging himself from Lola's grasp.

Lola, seemingly unperturbed, put on a show by puckering up and blowing you a kiss before sauntering back over to the bar.

You had expected the worst upon entering this worn-out, faded rust-hued saloon, but Arthur had never broken your trust before.

“Care to join me, beautiful?” Arthur asked, lightly tugging on a chair next to him.

“We’re in the middle of a poker game.”

Javier raised his hat playfully as he caught sight of you. His brown eyes radiated a warmth that contrasted sharply with Arthur’s bashful demeanor.

“Ah, our striking beauty has arrived. Welcome!” Javier greeted you as he shuffled the deck around.

Charles, ever the quiet one, simply nodded a nod as he scribbled something on a notepad, while Lenny let off a rusty bark of laughter from the opposite end of the table.

The atmosphere was tense, but you could feel Arthur's protective aura enveloping you.

"Let's see what you got, darling," Arthur whispered, winking while patting his lap.

You bit your bottom lip, feeling a familiar heat radiating through your thighs. Game on. You sat on his lap, facing the table, and joined the poker game.

Half of your attention was on the cards being dealt, but the other half couldn't wait to taste that rugged outlaw.

Your flirtatiousness started to intensify, and Arthur's breath matched your pace.

He slid his hands up your thighs, caressing the smoothness of your skin.

You leaned in a little closer, letting his beard tickle the back of your neck, and the warmth of his breath on your ear.

The room began to spin, but all you wanted was Arthur.

With trembling lips, you whispered, "I need you now."

With a rasping voice, he answered, "Your wish is my command, darling."

Arthur clumsily threw his cards onto the table, tipping over his beer glass and stunned the room into silence.

He took you by the hand and guided you through the cluttered, beer-soaked saloon floor. The thick stares of ‘Lola’ and the other women followed you as you hurriedly climbed the wooden staircase.

Their pissed-off gaze couldn't quench the fire kindling throughout your entire body. You had eyes for one man only - Arthur, your outlaw cowboy with a golden heart.

Each heavy thud from Arthur’s booted steps made your pussy weep.

Your heart raced when you reached the top of the rickety stairs, with the dimly lit hallway guiding you towards the closest door.

You fumbled for the door handle, your breath hitching in excitement.

Arthur's muscular frame pressed against your back as he kicked the door behind him, slamming it shut with a finality that echoed throughout the small, dingy room.

The smell of stale cigars and sex met your nostrils, but you didn't care.

Nothing mattered anymore but the man behind you, whose hands had already begun to unbutton your shirt.

You shrugged off his touch, spinning around to tear at his clothes, seeking out the warmth of his bare, muscular flesh.

Arthur groaned as your hands worked furiously at his shirt buttons, your fingernails gently scoring his roughened skin.

With a final yank, your hands reached his now unfastened belt, which you pulled loose with animal hunger. Staring deeply into each other's eyes, you both knew there was no turning back. There was no room for tenderness or going slow; the lust consumed you, smothering any other thoughts.

A brutal, primal need took hold, tearing away any reservations.

With your shaking hands, you slid down his pants, revealing that throbbing, wildly excited cock.

Your breath hitched, desire unfurling like a wildfire burning in your core.

Arthur's large hands roamed over your body, grazing the sensitive skin between your thighs.

"Fuck, baby. I've missed that sweet pussy of yours," he groaned, gripping the back of your neck, pulling you closer.

You moaned, crushed against his bare chest, drowning in the taste of whiskey on his lips.

Arthur's tongue explored the depths of your mouth, tangling with yours as if they belonged together.

His hands moved higher up your spine, grasping desperately at your thick, tangled hair.

Your hands ventured to his solid cock, gripping him tightly and teasing the plump, shiny head with your fingertips.

A low, breathless curse escaped from Arthur's parted lips as his cock jerked in your hand, seeking that warm release.

With one more searching kiss, in which he seemed to consume your very soul, Arthur broke away from your bruising embrace, breathing raggedly.

You, too, gasped for air but held onto the precious moments of passion still lingering in your racing heart.

Your lips swollen and your mind bewildered, you struggled to stem the unyielding hunger still gnawing in your lower belly.

You nudged Arthur gently towards the nearest wall, eyes alight with intense desire and wanton need.

"Fuck, baby, you're so fucking gorgeous," he whispered as he cupped your face, savoring the taste of your lips one last time before giving in to the unadulterated desire running rampant between you.

Your lips quivered in anticipation as your deft hands traveled down his taught chest and bulging muscles, every hill and valley sculpted by seasons on vicious outlaw adventures.

Meanwhile, the ragged rhythm of his heavy breaths filled your ears, causing you to ache for the blissful pleasure only this man could offer you.

Bending down, you knelt before Arthur as if in submission, yearning for the slightest taste of the throbbing cock springing forth in front of you.

A low growl rumbled through his chest, and his hands tightened in your hair as you gently slipped the head between your eager, swollen lips. The salty taste of his precum and musky aroma of lust overwhelmed you, and you moaned in pure, unadulterated satisfaction.

With deliberate, teasing movements, you wrapped your tongue around his thick shaft, lapping at him with desire.

His head fell backward and thudded against the cold, rough planking of the wall. That's so goddamn good." He thrust his cock deep into your throbbing, eager mouth, and you greedily took him in, moaning around his width.

You drew your head back, letting your teeth gently graze his swollen head before plunging him back between your lips.

Arthur hissed, his powerful thighs tightening as your tongue traced the underside of his shaft, worshipping the veiny pillar of his manhood.

"Oh, baby, you are going to fucking kill me," he ground out, hips bucking forward.

You marveled at his weight on your tongue, tracing the patterns and grooves of every glorious inch. The head of his cock nudged the back of your throat, and your gag reflex kicked in.

You had never taken him so deep, but the taste of him, the salty sweetness was addictive.

Your arms snaked up around Arthur's hips to hold him in place as he thrust.

His fingers tightened in your hair, bumping the back of your throat before pulling out.

You gasped, stars clouding your vision for a moment.

When you looked up, Arthur was staring down at you with a look of sheer awe and lust.

"Fuck, baby, you are perfect.

Your tight, wet mouth feels incredible on my aching cock," Arthur groaned as you worked him with your hands, guiding his shaft towards your greedy mouth again. His smooth head pressed against your lips, and you sighed in pleasure, opening wider to receive him. Your desire ignited, knowing how much steadfast strength and pure masculinity coursed through him, and surged into your veins.

He slid back into your mouth, and you began massaging his firm buttocks, pressing him closer, holding him there as long as you could bear it.

He pressed insistently deeper into your velvet furnace, your nose buried in the wiry hair between his legs, and your eyes teared up, making you blink furiously. Arthur pulled back with a loud slurp and then roughly grabbed your hair in both hands. He began ruthlessly face-fucking you, his big balls slapping against your chin with each thrust, groaning and swearing as your ass swayed beneath the hem of your dress.

"Shit, damn it, you are heaven! I knew you'd be good at this.

Fuck, baby, you look like a goddamn queen on your knees." His hips snapped forward as he pummeled your face with that divine cock. "But, I need to taste my queen too."

His words sank in as he pulled out and ripped your dress up to your waist, revealing your slick, aching pussy. The sudden gush of cool air made your clit pulse with pleasure, and his obscene growl forced liquid need to pool between your legs.

His rough hands spread you open, pushing two fingers into you, followed by a third.

Your back arched involuntarily with a whimpering sigh escaping past your swollen lips, his thumb casually stroking your clit.

Arthur growled deep in his throat, "Goddamn, woman.

You're already soaked."

You only managed a trembling nod in response. His probing touch felt so good that you wanted more.

"Do it, please," you murmured - but your pleas weren't necessary.

With an animalistic grunt, Arthur positioned his swollen tip to your entrance.

Your legs instinctively wrapped around his sculpted hips, guiding him inside you.

Your inner walls tensed, spreading around that delicious monster with a whimper.

He hissed and pushed into you, slowly sheathing himself in your warm, inviting embrace.

"Oh, fuck, yes!

You're squeezing me like a vise, baby," he grunted out, his eyes squeezing shut as he finally buried himself entirely in this new, yet familiar haven.

The sensation, both comfortable and tantalizing, worked its magic as you both fell into a familiar rhythm.

Arthur’s thrusts matched the pace of your squirming hips, driving deeper. With each forward lunge, the head of his cock slammed into your G-spot, flooding your body with tingling pleasure. Little moans kept falling from your swollen red lips, and your final button popped off your blouse in ecstasy.

Eyes locked, you read the hunger in his expression, and it ignited your own.

His grip tightened around you, hands splayed possessively against your backside, as he set a merciless pace. He pulled you onto his damp cock with unrelenting force, grunts and groans punctuating each crashing plunge.

"Fuucck, you're so fucking hot, baby. And tight. Goddamn, you're gonna make me come!"

His voice, hoarse and desperate, sent a shiver down your spine. You squeezed around him, milking his shaft as your legs trembled with the effort to maintain your position.

The fullness of Arthur inside you, the feel of his rough palms massaging your ass, and his hot breath on your cheek were setting you on fire.

Arthur could barely take it either, his rhythm faltered, and his hands slid from your backside as he braced himself with urgency against the rough wooden walls. The grunting increasing in volume as you felt his cock surge with heat.

He plunged in and out of your dripping wet pussy relentlessly.

"Fuck, yeah. Take it, baby," he hissed, eyes half-closed as the pleasure overtook him.

"Yes, yes, Arthur. Come inside me, give it to me. Harder, oh God, yes!"

With an animalistic growl, he gave in, pounding into you desperately. Every brutal thrust met with your cries of pleasure until his deep, guttural moan shattered the silence, accompanied by an intense spasm.

His cock twitched after such a long, hard ride, and his seed shot deep inside you, hot and filling.

Each spasm of his thick cock pulsed an intoxicating warmth within your core, and you moaned, gripping him tighter. The intensity of blissful release had overtaken both of you, consuming any thoughts of time or place as you clung to one another.

Exhausted and satisfied, Arthur leaned into you, his forehead rested on your shoulder, and he gasped for air. His cock throbbed within you as his breathing finally began to slow. You ran your hands up and down his arms, reveling in the feeling of having him, all of him, nearby.

Arthur's softening cock twitched within you, still half-hard with the remnants of his explosive climax trickling down your inner thighs.

He kissed along your neck, pressing gentle nips against the tender flesh as his lips brushed along your collarbone.

Exhausted as you were from the wild encounter, you couldn't help but be swept away by the flicker of embers still burning in his gaze.

His arms moved from your back to placing you against the wall with a gentle but insistent force.

He wants complete control, to bring you to the edge and leave you screaming for more. Arthur's eyes gleamed with an all-consuming passion that hadn't dimmed, even with his release moments before.

His hand slid down your leg, lifting it to rest on his hip, opening you wider for him. The salty-sweet scent of sweat and sex lingered in the air as his grip tightened on you.

Slowly, deliberately, he thrust back inside.

Your head tipped back against the wall, exposing the long, graceful curve of your throat. Arthur, continuously sending shocks throughout your body, nipped and kissed at your neck, eliciting a choked giggle and desperate whimper in equal measure.

His cock slid in and out, and the feeling was indescribable. It was as if your souls connected and danced together to the sinful music created by your lovemaking.

Arthur pulled out completely, looking at you with a wicked glint in his eye, before flipping you around.

Your breasts smushed against the cold wall. His large, rough palms slid down your sides and squeezed your ass. The anticipation spread throughout your body in an explosive thrill. His hungry lips brushed against your neck, while his teeth nipped gently at your earlobe.

"Fuck, Arthur. This isn't fair," you muttered through ragged breaths, your head pressed back against his shoulder, making your voice sound foreign to your ears.

"You love it, my beautiful outlaw. Now spread those sweet legs."

You did as he commanded.

Spreading those sweet legs, you obeyed your rugged outlaw. Your breath hitched in desire as a knowing smirk tugged at the corners of his mouth. As swiftly as a cowboy draws a gun, he slapped your ass cheek, leaving a crimson imprint of his possessive brand. Your gasp grew louder as his other hand reverently traced the mark. You're pink and ready for me," he growled, worshiping you with his eyes.

Arthur continued to caress your, now rosy, ass, applying a little more pressure with his next slap. The intensity left you gasping, your pussy tightening involuntarily, desperate for his cock to fill it once more.

"You like that, you dirty girl? Do you enjoy the pain as much as the pleasure?" Arthur's voice was an excited rasp, barely discernible from the moans and laughter spilling out from the saloon downstairs.

"I want you inside me, Arthur. Please, just fuck me hard," you begged, your voice muffled by the wall.

Your raw need pierced the lust-filled fog clouding both your minds.

Without hesitation, Arthur thrust into you. He filled you completely, his erection stretching your tight walls. His grip on your hips tightened as you cried out, the sound bouncing off the walls and mixing with the cacophony from downstairs.

The initial shock had barely subsided before he began a punishing rhythm. Each thrust harder than the last, forcing you to rise on your toes, unable to ground yourself completely.

He fucked you mercilessly, and your entire existence focused on the fierce penetration devouring your needy pussy.

Every brutal surge into you brought you closer to the abyss. The sweet oblivion where pain gave way to earth-shattering pleasure.

His groans, each labored breath, and the sound of skin slapping against skin reverberated around the tiny room.

Seconds became minutes. Minutes fragmented into an eternity of piercing passion as his cock throbbed within you.

You clenched around him, each wave crashing onto your shores, drawing out the intensity of your climax. Arthur dug his fingers into your hips, driving deeper, harder - sending shocks rippling through your core, the force of his pounding driving your tits against the unforgiving wooden planks.

"Goddamn, baby. I'm losing my fucking mind. You feel like fucking heaven," he bellowed, hips furiously pumping, grinding against your sensitive, swollen pussy.

Arthur's grunts grew louder, and his nails dug deeper, marking your engorged flesh.

"I'm going to come, baby, and you're going to take every drop," Arthur declared before biting down on your shoulder, mixed pain and pleasure bursting through your nerve endings.

Unable to contain your own impending release, you responded, "Yes, yes, Arthur - together, fill me up."

Just as the words escaped your lips, his cock twitched, releasing long, warm streams inside you.

The sensation sent you spiraling over the edge once more, quivering and tightening around him uncontrollably. Your heart raced like a wild mustang, neck and neck with the dizzying exhilaration coursing through your veins.

As you both descended from the heavens, Arthur's grip on you softened. His lips found your shoulder, placing lingering kisses along the bite mark he had left behind. His cock, still semi-erect, slid out of you, dragging a sigh from your swollen lips.

A sticky heat coated your trembling thighs, and you marveled at the exquisite tenderness between them. Arthur placed feather-light kisses on your neck and back as he gently pulled you into an embrace. His cock, still covered in your combined essence, nestled between your ass cheeks.

"Shit, baby. I could stare at you all day," he said with reverence in his voice.

"Mmm, I wouldn't argue." You blissfully leaned into his strong body, melting into him.

Your head lolled backward, pressing against his sweat-drenched chest, listening to the steady rhythm of his pounding heart.

Suddenly, the door burst open, causing you both to jump. A few patrons caught a fleeting glance of you two standing there, panting heavily and entwined in each other's embrace - only to quickly close the door as if trying to erase the scandalous sight they had just witnessed.

Embarrassed, you quickly gathered your thoughts and tried to push yourself away from Arthur, but he wouldn't let you go.

Instead, he turned you around, capturing your lips in a passionate kiss. The taste of whiskey on his tongue and the roughness of his beard against your cheek sent waves of desire through your protesting body.

He lifted you and laid you on the bed. The coarse blanket prickled your bare back while murmuring sweet words of endearment and obscene promises of what he planned to do next.

Arthur descended to your eager pussy, lavishing open-mouthed kisses on the sensitive folds in between.

His lips explored the hills and valleys of your warm, wet terrain, savoring every taste and texture. The scent of their mingled pleasure intoxicated him, making him harder if that were even possible.

His skilful tongue lapped at the sticky flesh, greedily devouring you. A trembling sigh escaped past your swollen lips as his fingers replaced the emptiness his cock left behind. Arthur slid another digit into your slick tunnel, flicking it deftly against your G-spot.

Your back arched off the bed as his lips pursed around that sensitive button, savoring the slick taste of your arousal. Each lap, nibble, and stroke sent bolts of pure pleasure through you, pouring like honey from your core. Your eyes rolled back in your head while the storm built, threatening to crash and flood your senses.

He glanced up to catch your reaction, those green eyes burning with unparalleled passion. Arthur hooked his fingers just right, causing a delicious tension in your pelvic floor.

His eyes, filled with unrestrained desire, never strayed from yours as your back arched off the bed once more. Your thighs could no longer contain your need to reach for that ultimate release.

"Goddammit, Arthur!" you cried out, hips bucking wildly against the intrusion of his fingers.

Each wave of pleasure rolled over your trembling body, crashing into Arthur as he smiled wickedly against your dripping pussy.

His reverent kisses traced lower, worshipping the petals of your core, and teasing the tight pucker of your ass.

He parted your tender folds, baring your clit to his hungry mouth.

His tongue darted out to circle the nub, growling in satisfaction as he felt it swell beneath his merciless assault.

"Fuck, you taste so good," he murmured, every word a melody whispered against your quivering skin.

His tongue assault continued as he licked, sucked and teased every part of your drenched pussy. His hair tickled your thighs with every focused lash, and the gritty taste of your orgasm coated his expert tongue.

You cried out again, words twisting into broken pleas and filthy curses. The force of an imminent release backed up against your walls like a dam, threatening to burst and drown them both in slippery nirvana.

"That's it, my love. Let go, don't hold back."

Arthur's voice was gravely - a rough whisper in the otherwise silent room. It snapped the restraints on your self-control, sending you tumbling into the abyss.

Your nerves exploded in a cascade of sensations - scorching pressure seared from your clit through each vein, heating your very core. The storm finally broke, and your sex gushed with pent-up need in a hot, pulsating wave that swallowed them whole.

"Fuck.

Yes." You screamed, the pleasure wracking your body like tidal waves. Your legs trembled around Arthur's head as he groaned in delight, lapping up every last drop of your orgasm.

As the shudders subsided, and your breathing calmed, Arthur brushed gentle kisses across your tender folds. His fingers slid free from your drenched pussy, leaving a slight feeling of emptiness.

"You are fucking magnificent, you know that?" He raised a hand to brush a strand of sweat-drenched hair from your face.

The rough pad of his thumb tracing your cheekbone sent sparks racing between your hypersensitive nerve endings, and a shiver crept up your spine. Arthur hovered above you, scrutinizing your face as if searching for slivers of your soul hidden within the crevices of your eyes.

"Open your eyes, baby," he whispered, brushing his lips tenderly against yours.

Reluctantly, you released the darkness that had swathed your vision, allowing the reality of his loving gaze to fill the emptiness.

"You are one gorgeous son-of-a-bitch, you know that?" The words rolled off your swollen lips, slightly hoarse from the night's acrobatics.

Arthur smiled, the corners of his eyes crinkling endearingly, and brushed his nose against yours. Leaning in, he pressed a tender kiss to your slightly parted lips. The faint taste of your desire lingered there, a bittersweet reminder of the rapture he offered moments earlier.

As you basked in the afterglow of the grandest passion-fueled storm, Arthur nestled beside you under the quilt, a rope of muscle and sinew, his dark hair brushing your breasts and turning your insides aflutter. The saloon's atmosphere and the night outside faded effortlessly against the fire lighting up your souls.

You sighed, letting your weary bones sink into the old mattress. His arm draped around your shoulder, and his firm hand cupped yours, a lazy circle, skin against skin.

The warmth spreading through your veins whispered promises of safety and belonging. There were no secrets between you, only the raw, honest truth of how you set every part of him aflame.

Minutes passed, an eternity in the combined silence of two souls while the old grandfather clock in the corner ticked away the sodden night. Laughter, muffled conversation, and music from downstairs seeped through the wooden walls of the small room and slithered around you, ultimately suffocated by the rising satisfaction of the moment.

Arthur's fingers deftly weaved through your hair, while your head found solace on his shoulder. With a slow, steady rhythm, his other hand traced circles on the small of your back.

"I missed you," he confessed, his words barely whispers, but they contained a certain weight, visible even in the low light of the room.

You nestled further into him, cherishing the warmth that oozed from his body.

Safety enveloped you, a shield that prevented danger from reaching out and claiming you.

“I have missed you too, Arthur,” you murmured, your voice barely louder than his own. You tipped your head back, peering into his eyes - seeing past the green to the love and longing that dwelled within that handsome outlaw cowboy.

Through the open window, the gentle breeze meandered around you both, a comforting presence amid this intimate scene, soon joined by the distant murmurs of the nightlife below.

The soft sway of the room's lantern cast a warm, inviting glow across Arthur’s visage, igniting a smile just for you.

[hwsing]

Thoughts about pegging the allies and mayhaps Italy 🧍‍♂️

pegging? pegging!

notes: 18+, top reader and bottom characters. includes: america (alfred), canada (matthew), france (francis), england (arthur), china (yao). i think some of my opinions on this are unpopular but pls don’t attack me for it lmaoo, as always, reblogs are appreciated!

cw: talk about pegging, slightly toxic views on sex (ivan)

first of all, those who would be most interested in it would be francis who is just kinky as fuck, feliciano who is down to roll around however and yao who is so old and easily bored nowadays that you have got to switch it up often anyways. the least would be ivan, who is just overall not a super big fan of bottoming and arthur who is similar and just. struggles to get into most things involving toys. alfred and matthew are in the middle area.

francis loves sex. something has to be really bewildering for him to be particularly opposed — hell, it’s likely that he brought it up himself if you’re more hesitant to. if you bring it up first, he’s pleasantly surprised and causally agrees; he has high expectations! but, honestly, even if you suck at it, he just takes it as an opportunity to teach you. he’ll tell you how to fuck him right through his breathy, soft moans, encouraging and awfully sweet about the whole thing. but, if you do know what you’re doing or are more confident, he’s more than happy to take it. he actually cums a lot harder when something is in his ass to be honest. he’d most certainly want it to become a more regular thing.

like francis, yao might end up bringing this up himself. he is old and, honestly, very few things shock him. he’s not someone who needs super niche hardcore stuff to get off, but he thinks it’s beneficial for everyone involved to switch things up often enough!! he’s used to bottoming to begin with, so this is by no means his first rodeo. bigger the better

alfred is not very opinionated about these things, to be honest. by default, he likes getting his dick wet, so he doesn’t think about bottoming very often. when presented with the idea, though, he’s by no means opposed! he takes it like a champ, and if you didn’t already have it, he got plenty of lube! would be very embarrassed by the fact he got fucked though. he doesn’t really have a reason to be, he just gets flustered if you remind him outside of the bedroom

ivan isn’t inherently particularly dominating in intimacy, but he very much likes to be the one deciding the pace with sex. and while you can argue that bottoming isn’t a forfeit, because that’s true to him it feels like it. he’s just…. very stubborn and would likely be dismissive of the idea. if he trusts you a LOTTTTT i think he’d be more open to the idea. you’ll have to unlock ivan level 99 first though. good luck adventurer

i was having very mixed feelings on matthew. i do think he’d be down though. at least post 2020 matthew would be. prior to that, i dont think he’d be downright opposed to it, but he doesn’t entirely get it…. once it happens though, he doesn’t think it’s a huge deal. doesn’t love the feeling (just isn’t really into the feeling if the toy, thinks its a bit uncomfy regardless of lube) but if your thrust game is good enough it can compensate for the toy feeling!

arthur has bottomed before, but it was almost, if not just straight up always, because his companion for that night had a willy and refused to bottom themselves. arthur isn’t against it, even if it isn’t what he naturally gravitates towards — but… pegging? maybe a younger, more adventurous arthur would be a bit intrigued, but the man barely accepts that vibrators can help spice things up. he just… struggles to see the point, but he’s likely to try it out if you two are long term partners. i can’t see him being very into it, but he’ll indulge you once in a blue moon to please you because he loves you <33

[ccghastly]

Sub, Dom, or Switch

And Top, Bottom, or Both

With the Rdr2 boys

Some short headcanons on how the Van der Linde men like to get it.

(Nothing explicit, everything's written pretty obliquely)

Arthur, John, Charles, Hosea, Dutch, Keiran, Bill, Sean, Lenny, Javier, Micah, 

Arthur: 

Switch

Really depends on his mood.

Sometimes he's in the mood to feel big and in control, and sometimes he wants to lay back and be taken care of.

Both

He likes both equally well.

He just likes pleasure, however he's given it.

John: 

Sub

A bratty sub, will snark the entire time, but not so secretly really likes being bossed around.

Top

Liked bottoming a bit too much the few times he tried it, and it made him feel insecure, so he sticks to topping 

He is however very good at oral

Charles:

Switch

Not generally one for bed games, but depending on what his partner likes he can go either way

Top

Service top, loves taking care of his partners.

Had some bad experiences bottoming, so really doesn't prefer to do it anymore. But if he really trusts you he might be willing to give it a try.

Hosea:

Dom

Soft Dom, lots of praise and compliments.

Firm but sweet. Unlikely to give physical punishments.

Top

Simply doesn't derive a lot of pleasure from bottoming 

Dutch: 

Dom 

Because not being in control makes him feel uncomfortably vulnerable.

Both

Surprisingly willing to go either way

As long as he's still holding the reins, so to speak.

Keiran:

Sub

Tried Doming once or twice but got too nervous that he was doing it wrong.

Likes having clear instructions and plainly stated punishments for if he doesn't follow them. Just likes knowing what to do, and getting praise for doing it.

Both

Can go either way, entirely dependent on what his partner would like to do.

Is very whiny either way, he tears up and gets all stuttery. It's cute as hell.

Bill: 

Dom

Would be a switch if he wasn't madly insecure about his masculinity

If he trusts you he'd be willing to take a few orders.

Top

Bottoming also makes him feel very insecure

But as long as you never make fun of him for maybe wanting it, he'd probably open up enough to admit that he actually likes it either way.

Sean:

Switch

Depending on who he's with he either wants to give until they can't walk or take it until he can't.

Both

This boy just really wants to get fucked up, however the mood strikes him. Refuses to be shamed for it, everyone wants a piece of Macguire.

Lenny:

Dom

Really likes taking care of his partners, watching them fall to pleasure and knowing its all thanks to him.

The king of sweet aftercare.

Top

Was never interested in trying bottoming and still isn't.

Javier:

Switch

Leans more Dom but is willing to go either way depending on his partner.

Both

He is the loudest in bed, hands down. If he's talking It's almost entirely in Spanish, but he gets incoherent rapidly.

Very unashamed of how loud he is, why would he feel bad about a partner that makes him feel so good?

Micah:

Switch

Can go either way, but will run his mouth the entire time.

Some of what he says isn't even close to dirty talk, he just says whatever the hell comes to mind with no filter.

Bottom

He's, perhaps unsurprisingly, shameless about it. In fact he'll taunt his partners if they're not giving it to him well enough.

He's got standards and if they can't give him what he wants he'll go find someone who can.

(Here ya go, hoped you liked it! Lemme know what you think, I'd love to hear everyone's yays or nays)