#arthur how did you fumble her | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

theonottsbxtch · 4 months ago

Note

Your Charles series was so good. And your writing is amazing.

Could you maybe do something where reader is friends with Arthur’s GF- Jade or someone in his friend group and she meets Charles and he literally has a fall in love at first sight moment with her and maybe he becomes a bit obsessed 🫶🏻🫶🏻

LOVE ME, BABY | CL16

an: i did a mix of a smau and written for this one and since i'm moving to france again soon i'm making her french ehehe

jade_distinguinn

liked by yourusername, arthur_leclerc, yourbestfriend and 28,428 others

look who's finally come to visit @/yourusername

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userone: facecard never declines for both of them

usertwo: i need them both

userthree: omg finally getting to see yn in monaco

yourusername: take me to the port, i need to find a sugar daddy

jade_distinguinn: enough.

userfour: they're so pretty

yourbestfriend: it's fine leave me behind, i'll cope

yourusername: you had work??

jade_distinguinn: i tried to pay you to come??

yourbestfriend: shh don't expose me.

userfive: i would commit war crimes to be apart of their friendship

monaco casino, arthur's birthday

The night buzzed with a certain energy Charles knew all too well. The Casino de Monte-Carlo was alive with high society types, gamblers, and tourists, all bathing in the golden glow of the chandeliers. A typical night in Monaco, he supposed, but something about tonight felt different.

Charles had come here to celebrate Arthur’s birthday, content with blending into the backdrop. The Austin Grand Prix was just a week away, and while most people recognised his face, tonight wasn’t about the spotlight. That was Arthur’s role tonight, surrounded by his circle of friends. For once, Charles was glad to slip into the shadows.

He’d just stepped away from the table, heading towards the bar when it happened. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw you, gliding through the crowd like you didn’t belong in all this glitz, as though you were in your own world. Your dark hair fell effortlessly over your shoulders, and the understated elegance of your dress caught his eye. Not flashy, not trying too hard.

Then, in one brief, perfect moment, you brushed against him.

The light contact jolted him from his thoughts, and before he could even react, you turned, eyes wide with surprise.

“Oh, I’m sorry!” Your voice, soft and clear, carried the unmistakable lilt of a French accent.

Charles’s world tilted as your eyes met his. He wasn’t used to this—the sudden quiet that seemed to fill the room, as though all the noise had fallen away in your presence. And yet, here you were, pulling him into that stillness.

You didn’t look at him the way people usually did. There was no spark of recognition, no polite nod that said, I know who you are. Just calm, curious eyes, waiting for a response.

Charles cleared his throat, his usual confidence faltering. “Yes… sorry, I—”

“Are you alright?” you asked, a faint smile playing at your lips, almost teasing.

He couldn’t help but laugh softly, surprised by how easily you handled the situation. Handled him. That never happened to Charles Leclerc. People usually fumbled over their words, especially in places like this where Formula One drivers were practically worshipped. But you? You were treating him like he was just another guy in a suit, standing in your way.

“I’m… Charles,” he managed, extending his hand automatically.

You glanced at his hand, but instead of shaking it, you smiled politely and looked past him, scanning the corridor. “Nice to meet you, Charles. But I really need to find the bathroom before I get even more lost in here.”

And just like that, you were leaving. The most baffling part? You still had no idea who he was.

“Uh, it’s just down that corridor to the right,” he said, voice a bit steadier now but still trailing after you as you moved away.

“Thanks.” You shot him one last glance, smiled briefly, and disappeared into the crowd, leaving him standing there with an unfamiliar feeling settling in his chest.

Charles was used to attention. But this? This was different. A fleeting encounter, barely lasting seconds, yet it had left something behind he couldn’t quite shake. You’d treated him like anyone else. Not a celebrity, not a driver—just another person. And that intrigued him more than anything.

With a sigh, Charles turned back towards the bar, trying to push the thought of you out of his mind.

But minutes later, back at the table with Arthur and the others, his thoughts kept drifting. He couldn’t shake the memory of you, couldn’t help but glance at the entrance now and then, half hoping, half expecting to see you again.

And then, there you were.

You moved through the crowd with a quiet confidence, your head held high, walking straight towards the table. Charles’s pulse quickened as you drew closer, your gaze sweeping across the group until it landed on him.

Jade noticed you first, her face lighting up. “Darling! There you are!” She jumped up, pulling you in for a quick hug.

Charles watched in amusement, barely concealing a smirk. You hadn’t recognised him yet, still oblivious to the fact that you’d just met him.

You sat beside Jade, and Arthur leaned over, gesturing towards Charles. “I don’t think you’ve met Charles here, have you?” His grin was wide, completely unaware of the encounter that had already unfolded.

You glanced his way, and for a split second, something flickered in your eyes. But you kept your expression composed, only hesitating for a moment before replying smoothly.

“No, I don’t think I have.”

Charles leaned forward, a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. You were good. Playing it off like the two of you hadn’t just crossed paths minutes ago. The fact that you weren’t acknowledging it only made him more curious.

He extended his hand again, this time with a knowing look in his eyes. “Pleasure to meet you.”

“Likewise,” you replied, your gaze meeting his directly, a glint of challenge flickering there.

Arthur, still oblivious to the undercurrent between you two, continued on casually. “Charles’s been in Monaco as long as you. Just got back from testing in Italy.”

You raised an eyebrow. “Testing?”

“He’s a Formula One driver,” Jade added, glancing between you and Charles.

Charles didn’t take his eyes off you. He saw the moment of realisation in your eyes, just the slightest widening before you regained your composure. But he caught it. You’d finally connected the dots.

You recovered gracefully, your voice smooth and unaffected. “I guess I’ve been too busy to follow sports.”

Charles let out a low chuckle. You were definitely good at this game. And the best part? You weren’t going to make it easy for him.

“That’s what makes it interesting,” he replied, his gaze steady on you.

Jade quickly pulled your attention to something else, and Charles watched as you turned away, part of him disappointed, but another part relieved. It gave him a moment to take you in fully, to process what had just happened. You hadn’t recognised him—not as a Formula One driver, not as anyone of importance. You’d smiled, thanked him, and carried on.

As the conversation at the table continued, Charles found his thoughts drifting back to you, glancing your way more often than he should. There was something about the way you carried yourself—an effortless kind of allure, unpretentious and completely disarming.

He realised he’d been too quiet when Arthur nudged him, snapping him out of his reverie.

“Charlie, you alright?” Arthur raised an eyebrow, his tone curious.

Charles blinked, forcing a grin. “Yeah, yeah. Just thinking.”

Arthur chuckled, clearly unconvinced. “About your next race or something?”

Charles’s eyes flicked back to you, now laughing at something Jade had said, completely unaware of the fact that you were occupying his mind.

“Actually,” Charles said, lowering his voice so only Arthur could hear, “I was wondering if you could give me her number.”

Arthur looked puzzled. “Her? Really?”

Charles rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly. “Yeah, she’s... different. I’d like to get to know her.”

"Alright, I get it," Arthur said, his voice low enough so the others couldn’t hear. He glanced over at you, then back at Charles, his smile fading into something more serious. "But no can do, mate. She’s Jade’s best friend."

Charles blinked. "What’s that got to do with anything?"

Arthur shrugged, his grin returning. "It means I’m not getting involved. If you want her number, you’re going to have to ask her yourself."

Charles felt a jolt of panic surge through him. "Ask her myself?" The words came out louder than intended, and he quickly lowered his voice when you glanced in their direction. He cleared his throat, trying to appear nonchalant. "I mean, you can’t just—"

"Nope," Arthur cut him off, his expression completely unyielding. "I’m not risking it. Do you know how long it took me to win over Jade? If I mess this up by playing matchmaker and it doesn’t work out, I’m screwed."

Charles groaned inwardly. Arthur’s girlfriend, Jade, was lovely, but he had to admit—Arthur had a point. The last thing he wanted was to stir up any drama, especially with you being Jade’s best friend. But still, the thought of approaching you directly made his pulse quicken.

"You’re really not going to help me out here?" Charles asked, trying one last time.

Arthur grinned like he was thoroughly enjoying the sight of a Formula One driver getting flustered over a girl. "Not a chance. But look at it this way—you’re Charles Leclerc, mate. You can handle it."

Charles stared at him, deadpan. "You realise I drive at 300 kilometres an hour for a living, right? This is way more terrifying."

Arthur burst out laughing, slapping him on the back. "Good luck, mate."

Charles watched as Arthur leaned back in his chair, clearly done with the conversation. He couldn’t believe it. Ask her myself. He glanced at you again, and his heart did that strange, unfamiliar thing where it skipped a beat. This was insane.

But there was no way around it.

He took a deep breath and downed the rest of his drink, trying to steel his nerves. The next race was nothing compared to this. Alright, he thought, just go over there and act normal. But even as he thought it, he knew ‘normal’ was the last thing he’d be able to pull off around you.

How had this become the hardest thing he’d ever done?

charles_leclerc

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celebrating 24!

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userone: my fav grid siblings

usertwo: oh my who are the girls at the end?

arthurleclerc: merci frero

userthree: i want to know what a leclerc party is like

jade_distinguinn: @/yourusername we got put on blast in that final picture

arthurleclerc: @/charles_leclerc eyes

jadedistinguinn: what?

arthurleclerc: nothing mon amour

userfour: i wish i was there

userfive: happy birthday arthur!

yourusername: oh god i look awful

charles_leclerc: i think you look quite the opposite actually

texts between jade and arthur

jade's apartment

You were lounging on the sofa, the late afternoon light filtering through the blinds, casting soft, golden streaks across Jade’s apartment. She was curled up in the armchair across from you, scrolling through her phone and sipping tea. It was one of those rare, lazy afternoons where nothing was pressing, and the air was filled with the comforting hum of nothingness. A perfect break.

“So, what are you and Arthur up to tonight?” you asked absently, flicking through the channels without much interest.

Jade glanced up, shrugging. “Not sure yet. He mentioned something about Charles going to England tomorrow for testing, so we might just go out for dinner and come back unless he wants to go and see Charles.”

Before you could respond, there was a soft knock at the door.

“That’ll be him,” Jade said, setting her cup down and stretching.

You got up to answer the door, opening it to find Arthur standing there, a familiar cheeky grin on his face.

"Alright, ladies?" he said, stepping into the apartment with the ease of someone who's done it a hundred times before. He gave Jade a quick kiss on the cheek before plopping himself down beside her on the armchair, completely at home.

"Hey, Arthur," you said, sitting back down on the sofa. "Heard Charles’s off to England tomorrow? Are you going to see him tonight?"

“Yeah,” Arthur says, leaning back and draping his arm across the back of Jade’s chair. “Got some testing to do, nothing major, just a quick day trip, so we’ll be home tonight.”

“Must be exhausting,” you commented, more out of politeness than anything. Formula One life sounded glamorous, but you couldn’t imagine the constant travel.

Arthur chuckled. “Yeah, he’s got a crazy schedule, that one. Actually…” He hesitated for a moment, shooting a glance at Jade that you didn’t catch, then continued, “Charles is looking for someone to dogsit while he’s away. Just for the day, really. His usual sitter fell through.”

You blinked, surprised. “Charles has a dog?”

“Yeah, a small dachshund. Leo. Sweetest thing you’ve ever seen,” Arthur said, his voice casual but you missed the slight edge of anticipation that lingered beneath his tone.

You glanced at Jade, who was suddenly very interested in her tea, and shrugged. “I could do it. I’ve not got any plans tomorrow anyway, and I’ve been wanting an excuse to get out for a walk. Might be nice to have some company.”

For a brief moment, neither Jade nor Arthur said anything. It was like they’d frozen, and you were about to ask if you’d said something weird when Arthur cleared his throat.

“Yeah? That’d be brilliant,” he said, flashing a quick smile at Jade before looking back at you. “Charles will appreciate that. Leo’s great, really. You’ll get along.”

You nodded, thinking it was no big deal. “Happy to help. I love dogs.”

Jade set her cup down a little too carefully, and you missed the look she shared with Arthur—a quick, knowing glance, a barely-there smile. It was the kind of look that was exchanged between people who were clearly up to something, but you were oblivious, already thinking about what you’d need to bring for Leo’s day out.

Arthur leaned forward, grinning now, clearly pleased with how smoothly things were going. “I’ll let Charles know. I’ll pick you up tomorrow morning and drop you off at his place?”

“Perfect,” you said, pulling your knees up to your chest and settling back into the cushions. “I’ll make sure Leo’s well looked after.”

Arthur and Jade shared another glance, but you were too busy scrolling through your phone now, thinking about where you’ll take Leo for a walk. Maybe the park nearby?

Jade stretched, standing up and nudging Arthur’s arm. “We should probably get going, yeah? Need to go pick something up from your mother’s salon.” she said, clearly making something up on the spot.

Arthur jumped to his feet, playing along smoothly. “Right, yeah, can’t forget about that.”

You waved them off, entirely unaware of the little conspiracy brewing right under your nose. “See you tomorrow, then.”

As they left, Jade turned back, a small smile tugging at the corners of her mouth. “You’ll love Leo, trust me.”

“Looking forward to it,” you called back, smiling.

yourusername

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dog sitting duties

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userone: omg is that leo??

usertwo: chat if they date, my glock is finna be locked and loaded

userthree: is that charles' place??

arthurleclerc: my nephew is so adorable

userfour: i want to be her so god damn bad

userfive: i must have been the worst sort of person in my past life WHY IS THIS NOT ME

jade_distinguinn: cutest ball of fluff ever

usersix: parents?

charles_leclerc: thank you for this

charles' apartment, late at night

Charles dragged his suitcase behind him, feeling the familiar ache of travel settle into his muscles. The testing had gone well, but the flight back from England had drained him more than usual. All he could think about was getting home, maybe grabbing a quick bite to eat, and collapsing into bed.

As he unlocked the door and stepped inside, something felt off. Normally, Leo would be at the door within seconds, his tail wagging like crazy, eager to greet him after any amount of time apart. But today, there was no thundering of paws, no excited whining. The house was still, unusually quiet.

“Leo?” he called out softly, frowning as he dropped his bag by the entrance.

No response.

His concern grew as he walked further into the living room, the sight before him making him stop in his tracks. There, curled up on the sofa, was Leo—and beside him, fast asleep, was you. Your head was resting on a cushion, and Leo’s small dachshund head was draped lazily over your legs. Both of you looked completely peaceful, completely unaware of the world.

Charles blinked, feeling something in him soften at the sight. He’d forgotten for a moment that Arthur had mentioned you’d offered to look after Leo while he was away. Seeing you there, though, sprawled out on his sofa, completely at ease with Leo beside you, was… unexpected. But in the best possible way.

A small smile tugged at the corners of his lips as he quietly stepped closer. Leo’s ears flicked up as he noticed Charles, but the dog didn’t move, simply blinked sleepily before resting his head back on you, clearly not ready to leave his comfortable spot. Charles chuckled under his breath. Traitor.

His eyes moved back to you. You were still in your casual clothes, one arm draped across your chest, your breathing soft and steady. He felt his chest tighten, this strange warmth creeping up on him as he stood there watching. He could see why Leo hadn’t come rushing to the door—you were good company, after all.

Charles sighed quietly, rubbing the back of his neck. As much as he wanted to crash right there on the sofa himself, beside you, he knew you’d be more comfortable in a bed. He hesitated for a second before moving closer, carefully reaching down and gently sliding one arm under your legs and the other under your shoulders. You stirred slightly as he lifted you, but didn’t wake, your head leaning into his chest as he carried you through the apartment to his bedroom.

You felt light in his arms, your face peaceful as he laid you down on the bed, tucking the covers around you carefully. His heart gave an unfamiliar lurch as he stepped back, watching for just a moment as you settled into the blankets, still fast asleep.

Charles smiled softly to himself, shaking his head as he quietly left the room, closing the door behind him. He glanced back at the sofa where Leo had curled up, already resuming his nap. “Looks like I’ll be taking your spot tonight, mate.”

text between yn and jade

charles' apartment, following morning

The first thing you felt was warmth. Your body was cocooned in softness, the kind of comfort that made you want to sink deeper into sleep. But something didn’t feel right. You blinked your eyes open slowly, expecting to see your familiar surroundings—the sofa, Leo, maybe even your shoes kicked off somewhere on the floor—but instead, you were in a bed.

You sat up quickly, blinking against the morning light streaming through a nearby window. Your heart skipped a beat as you took in the room around you. This definitely wasn’t your apartment. The walls were unfamiliar, the duvet softer than yours, and the faint scent of something cooking wafted through the air. Panic settled in your chest.

The events of yesterday start rushing back. Leo. Charles. You’d agreed to dogsit while Charles was in England for testing. You must have fallen asleep on the sofa—but how did I end up in bed?

Oh no. Did Charles put me here?

You felt a rush of mortification as the realisation hit. He must have carried you. Carried you. Heat rose in your cheeks as you glanced around the room, suddenly very aware of the fact that you were lying in his bed. His bed!

Throwing off the covers, you swung your legs over the side of the bed and stood up, running a hand through your hair. You didn’t even know what time it was, but it felt later than it should be. God, how long have I been asleep?

You headed towards the door, trying to shake off your embarrassment as you stepped out of the bedroom and made your way into the main part of the apartment. The smell of food grew stronger, and as you rounded the corner, you froze.

Charles was standing in the kitchen, barefoot, wearing nothing but a pair of grey sweatpants, and flipping something in a frying pan. His back was to you, but there was no missing the fact that he was shirtless—completely shirtless. The morning light caught on his tanned skin, highlighting the defined muscles of his back and shoulders. Your brain momentarily short-circuited, and you stood there like an idiot, staring.

Oh God, this is so much worse than I thought.

He turned around, catching sight of you standing there, and smiled, completely unfazed. “Morning.”

You blinked, feeling the heat rush to your face again as you tried to form coherent words. “Uh… morning.”

He set the pan down and wiped his hands on a nearby dish towel, seemingly unaware of your internal struggle. “I hope you slept alright. Sorry if I startled you by moving you to the bed, but I thought you’d be more comfortable.”

Your heart was still racing, and you were pretty sure you were about three shades of red at this point. You fumbled for a response, trying to keep your eyes from drifting back to his very toned, very bare torso. “Oh my God, I’m so sorry! I didn’t mean to just… fall asleep on your sofa like that.”

Charles chuckled, clearly amused by your flustered state. “No problem at all. You looked comfortable, and Leo clearly wasn’t moving anytime soon.” He nods towards the dog, who was lying by the kitchen, tail thumping lazily against the floor.

You let out a breath, still feeling a bit mortified but tried to compose yourself. “I just… I didn’t realise I was that tired.”

“No harm done,” he said, waving off your apology. “I’m actually glad you stayed. Saved me from dealing with an overly energetic dog first thing in the morning. He pawed at your door to join you last night and only came out 20 minutes ago, all calm.”

You managed a small laugh, feeling slightly less awkward now, though your eyes kept darting to his chest before you forced them back up to his face. Focus.

Charles seemed to notice your discomfort, his smile softening. “I was just making some breakfast. Do you want to join me?”

You blinked, caught off guard by the invitation. “Breakfast?”

“Yeah, the thing people eat at the start of the day?” he said sarcastically and casual, as if this whole situation was perfectly normal. “I’m making eggs and toast, nothing fancy. But you’re welcome to stay.”

Your stomach betrayed you by rumbling softly, and you realise you hadn’t eaten since lunch the day before. Despite the lingering embarrassment, the idea of sitting down with him, maybe getting to know him better, didn’t sound half bad.

You nodded, feeling yourself relax a little. “Yeah, okay. I could eat.”

Charles grinned and gestured to the kitchen island. “Great. Grab a seat, I’ll get you a plate.”

yourusername

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"nothing fancy" and "just eggs and toast"

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userone: LEOOOOOOO

usertwo: that last pic gIRL??

jade_distinguinn: oh no the charles fans found you

yourusername: fuck

jade_distinguinn: good luck

userthree: who is she omg?

userfour: i think she's arthur's girlfriend's bestfriend from paris?

yourusername: yo that is insane, how did you find out i'm from paris

arthurleclerc: i'm sorry for what's about to happen

yourusername: THERE IS WORSE??!?

userfive: she is gorgeous

usersix: idk who i want more

charles_leclerc: if you were impressed by this, wait until you see what dinner consits of

yourusername: are you inviting me to dinner?

charles_leclerc: only if you say yes

yourusername: yes

userseven: WE ARE WITNISSING HISTORY

twitter

charles' apartment, one night

The evening sun was just beginning to dip below the horizon, casting a warm, golden glow over the apartment. Charles had insisted on cooking dinner for the both of you, despite your half-hearted protests. Now, the smell of something delicious—a mix of garlic, herbs, and roasted vegetables—filled the space, making your stomach rumble.

You were seated at the small dining table, watching as Charles moved around the kitchen with surprising ease. He wasn’t wearing a shirt again, but this time you’d had a little more time to get used to it. It wasn’t helping your concentration, though. Every time he turned to grab something or stir a pot, your eyes seemed to betray you, drifting toward the defined muscles of his back, the curve of his arms as he worked.

He caught you staring once or twice, shooting you a quick, knowing smile, which only made you look away, cheeks burning.

“Alright,” he said finally, bringing over two plates and setting them down on the table. “Hope you like pasta.”

You glanced at the dish in front of you—perfectly cooked spaghetti, tossed with olive oil, garlic, and roasted tomatoes. “It looks amazing,” you said, genuinely impressed.

He sat across from you, pouring some wine into your glass with a teasing smile. “Thought I’d try to impress you.”

You laugh, taking a sip of the wine. “Consider me impressed. You didn’t strike me as the cooking type.”

Charles leaned back in his chair, smiling lazily. “What, just because I drive fast cars for a living, I can’t handle a kitchen?”

“Well, yeah,” you tease, twirling some pasta around your fork. “It doesn’t really scream ‘domestic life,’ you know?”

He chuckled at that, but there was a soft, almost thoughtful look in his eyes as he watched you. “Fair enough. But there’s more to life than cars, you know.”

You take a bite of the pasta—perfectly seasoned, of course—and nod. “I’ll admit, you’re a man of surprises.”

As the conversation flows, you start to relax, the initial awkwardness of the morning fading away. You tell him about your time in Paris, about how you’ve been studying film and journalism at university. Charles seems genuinely interested, leaning forward slightly as you talk.

“So, you’re a filmmaker then?” he asks, raising an eyebrow.

“Hopefully one day,” you say with a laugh. “I still have a year left at uni. Right now, it’s more learning than making.”

Charles takes a sip of his wine, considering. “What kind of films do you want to make?”

You pause, twirling the wine glass in your hands. “I think... films that make people feel something. You know? I want to tell stories that resonate, that make people look at the world a little differently. Journalism’s the same for me. It’s all about storytelling.”

He watches you as you speak, his gaze intense but soft, like he’s taking in every word. “That’s... really cool,” he says, his voice quieter now. “I think the world could use more of that.”

You smile, feeling a strange warmth spread through you—not just from the wine, but from the way he looks at you, like he’s genuinely interested in who you are, not just the surface-level stuff. “Thanks. I leave tomorrow, though, back to Paris to finish my term.”

There’s a brief silence, and for a moment, the lightness of the conversation shifts. Charles sets his glass down and leans forward, his eyes not leaving yours. “You don’t have to go tomorrow, you know.”

You blink, surprised. “What?”

He shrugs, a playful smile tugging at the corner of his lips. “I mean, what’s a few more days? Stay a little longer. We can get to know each other better.” His tone is light, but there’s something deeper in his eyes—a hint of something more serious, more intent.

You hesitate, your mind racing. Stay longer? You’d planned to leave tomorrow, get back to your routine, your studies… But the way he’s looking at you now, the thought of leaving suddenly feels less appealing.

“I—” you start, but Charles interrupts, his voice dropping a little lower, his gaze never wavering.

“Look, I know we just met, but… there’s something here, right? Between us?”

The words catch you off guard, and your heart skips a beat. You weren’t imagining it, then—this pull between you two, the way your pulse quickened whenever he was close, the way your eyes kept finding him without meaning to.

“I don’t know,” you say softly, feeling your heart race. “Maybe…”

He stands up then, walking around the table slowly, his eyes locked on yours. Every step closer makes your breath catch in your throat, the room seeming to shrink as the distance between you disappears.

When he’s standing in front of you, he reaches out, his fingers gently tilting your chin up so that you’re looking right into his eyes. “Stay,” he says again, his voice almost a whisper now. “Just a little longer.”

Your pulse pounds in your ears as you meet his gaze, your heart caught between indecision and desire. You open your mouth to say something—anything—but before you can, his lips are on yours.

The kiss is soft at first, almost tentative, but then it deepens, heat flooding your body as you feel his hands slide around your waist, pulling you closer. Your hands move instinctively, finding their way to his chest, the warmth of his skin under your palms sending a thrill through you.

The rest of the world falls away, leaving only the feeling of his lips moving against yours, the taste of wine still lingering, his breath warm and steady. When you finally pull back, your forehead resting against his, you’re both breathing a little heavier, your heart pounding in your chest.

He looks down at you, his eyes dark and full of something that makes your knees feel weak. “Stay,” he whispers again, his voice rougher now, more urgent.

And suddenly, leaving feels like the last thing you want to do.

You stare up into Charles’s eyes, still catching your breath from the intensity of the kiss. His forehead is still pressed gently against yours, and the weight of the moment is thick in the air, like the world’s holding its breath along with you.

His hand moves to cup your cheek, his thumb brushing softly along your skin. You can feel the warmth radiating from him, his chest rising and falling a little faster than usual, mirroring your own heartbeat. He leans in again, his lips just a whisper away from yours, and his voice is low, thick with desire.

“Say yes,” he murmurs, his breath warm against your lips. “Stay, just a little longer.”

You swallow, your pulse pounding in your ears, your body still buzzing from the kiss. It feels impossible to think straight with him this close, with the way his touch sets your skin on fire. But then, as his fingers slide down the side of your neck, his lips just barely grazing yours, you make your decision.

“Yes,” you whisper.

His lips crash into yours again, more intense this time, like the word had unleashed something in him. His hands slide down your back, pulling you closer until there’s no space left between you. You gasp into the kiss, your arms instinctively wrapping around his neck, fingers tangling in his hair as the world blurs around you. The only thing you can focus on is him—his warmth, his touch, the way his mouth moves against yours like he can’t get enough.

Charles backs you gently against the edge of the dining table, his lips never leaving yours, and you feel the solid wood press against the small of your back. His hands find your waist again, lifting you effortlessly onto the table. You gasp as he steps between your legs, his body pressing against yours, and you feel every inch of him—strong, solid, and warm.

Your hands slide over his bare chest, feeling the taut muscles under your fingertips all over again. He groans softly against your lips, the sound sending a thrill through your entire body. The kiss deepens, more urgent now, and you feel his hands wander—one slipping up your back, the other gripping your thigh, pulling you even closer.

It’s overwhelming, this rush of heat, of wanting. Your heart pounds harder with every movement, every brush of his lips. His mouth moves from yours, trailing down your neck, leaving a trail of heat in its wake. You tilt your head back, eyes fluttering closed as you let yourself get lost in the sensation.

Then, just when you think you might drown in the feeling, he pulls back slightly, his breathing ragged, his forehead resting against yours again. His hands are still on you, holding you close, like he’s afraid to let go.

“You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to do that,” he breathes, his voice husky and low.

You smile, breathless and still dizzy from the kiss. “I think I might.”

He pulls back just enough to look at you, his eyes dark and intense, searching yours. There’s a softness in his expression now, something deeper that makes your heart flutter all over again. “So, you’re staying?”

You nod, unable to tear your eyes away from him. “Yes. I’m staying.”

The smile that spreads across his face is slow, but it lights up his entire expression, making something inside you melt. He leans in again, pressing one last soft, lingering kiss to your lips before pulling back and gently brushing a strand of hair from your face.

“Good,” he whispers, his voice low and full of promise. “Because I’m not done with you yet.”

yourusername

liked by jade_distinguinn, arthurleclerc, charles_leclerc and 54,429 others

one more week won't hurt, right?

*tap to load more comments*

userone: GUYS??!??!?!?!

usertwo: is leo about to have a mother?

userthree: THAT LAST PHOTO CHARLES LECLERC HOW COULD YOU DO THIS TO ME

jade_distinguinn: @/arthurleclerc mission acomplished?

arthurleclerc: yes boss 🫡

yourusername: huh??

userfour: can not believe i'm alive during this time rn

charles_leclerc: rumour is you can transfer to UoMonaco

yourusername: charlie you know i can't 🤭

userfive: CHARLIE STOP I CANNOT TAKE THIS I DONT EVEN KNOW THESE PEOPLE AH

usersix: i am sick🤧

userseven: time to start wondering around aimlessly in monaco and pray for the best

the end.

#f1 #f1 imagine #f1 fanfic #f1 smau #formula one x reader #f1 x reader #f1 fic #formula one smau #charles leclerc x you #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc fanfic #charles leclerc x female reader #charles leclerc smau #formula one x you #formula one imagine #formula one fanfiction #ferrari formula one #ferrari formula 1 #ferrari

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candykissd · 2 days ago

Text

drunk bingo

𝓗𝐀𝐑𝐑𝐘 𝐋𝐄𝐖𝐈𝐒 🐇

drunk bingo is a crazy time, especially when you're a lightweight. although, harry's there to take care of you.

warnings : alcohol consumption, nausea, mature language, fluff

nats notes : idk how to feel about this, i feel like it could be longer? i'm not sure though, i can never really write long chapters... but lmk what you think !! - luv from nat <3

the flashing lights were enough to make you feel sick, sicker than you already did. drunk bingo was one of your most favourite events, though, it's safe to say alcohol isn't your best friend.

you were already pretty much pissed by the third drink, and yet somehow were managing to pass out coherent sentences.. up until the eight drink, at least.

you were wedged between george and harry, with bach and arthur tv on the ends of the table. at the start of the night you were sure you were going to be the best team, winning all the challenges, calling bingo here and there. but then they decided to give you a few drinks. not a smart move.

"number 63!" simon called out from the platform on which he stood, the various flashing lights surrounding him sending your head spinning into a vortex of feeling sorry for yourself.

"'m gonna get some air.." you slurred out as you stood up, making your way around the tables, not without stumbling into a few, and finding the back door. pushing it open with all your might and leaning against the railing outside.

"she okay?" arthur asked the other boys as he saw her leave. "yeah, probably just so unbelievably shitfaced." harry shrugged as he stood up, following along the trail that you had walked just a minute ago.

deep breathe in, deep breathe out, is what you told yourself, the nauseous feeling creeping up on you again, despite the fact that it felt as though it had only just washed away. you couldn't help but jump in your skin as you felt a hand on your lower back.

"you okay?" sounded harry's familiar voice as he smiled down at you.

"yeah... 'm good." you mumbled out, raising your hand to your forehead as you turned slightly to face him, whilst you still felt ill, you couldn't help but smile up at him.

you'd liked harry for the longest time, and the two of you had somewhat of a flirtation-ship, always taking the piss out of each other, and flirting with one another. but, it was all harmless. you both denied having feelings for each other; even though all of your friends could see through it.

harry's hand slid up your back, his touch light, but enough to make you shiver as his hand made its way to play with your hair, tucking a piece behind your ear. "you wanna go home?" he asked, tilting his head, as if he was secretly admiring you, which he wasnt doing a good job at hiding.

you didn't say anything, not feeling the need, nor the ability to speak properly, just nodding and smiling softly at him as he stood up straight.

he turned around and signalled to the others through the door that he was taking you home, and just to carry on with the game, before placing his hands on your shoulders from behind, spinning you around and practically pushing you towards the main road where he called for a taxi.

when the two of you got to your apartment, you fumbled around in your bag for your keys. harry laughing as he saw you struggle, grabbing your bag and pulling out your keys for you, unlocking the door and letting you stumble inside first, shutting the door behind him as he followed you in.

it was a good thing harry good handle is alcohol, as he was damn near sober, sober enough to take care of you properly.

you stumbled into the kitchen, steadying yourself with your hands on the countertop as you looked over at him.

"come on.. let's get you ready for bed." he said with a fond smile as he picked you up bridal style, a childish giggle escaping your lips as your arms wrapped around his neck, just as an extra precaution to make sure he doesn't drop you.

"harry wroetoshaw lewis if you drop me..." you laughed out, throwing your head back as he walked you down the hallway and into your bedroom.

"i won't drop you, love, don't you fret." he shook his head playfully as he plopped you down on the edge of your bed.

you sighed contently as you watched him disappear into your en suite bathroom, coming out with the bottle of micellar water and a cotton wool pad, crouching down infront of you.

without saying anything, he wet the wool pad with the micellar water and helped you wipe the makeup of your face, eliciting a small laugh from you and a smile.

once all your makeup was off he threw the cotton wool pad in the bin and looked at you, "you're so good to me..." you mumbled, titling your head as you smiled at him childishly.

"well, im not prepared to get a bollocking off of you in the morning when you wake up with your makeup on." he laughed out as he stood up.

you flopped back onto the bed with a sigh. "these jeans are so uncomfy.." you grumbled out as you swayed from side to side on the bed, as if the action would somehow wriggle them off of your body.

"you wanna get changed?" he asked, looking down at you as you nodded.

"gimme your hoodie." you practically demanded, crossing your arms as he laughed and shook his head.

"so demanding..." he mumbled, pulling his hoodie off over his head, the shirt that he had on underneath riding up slightly, a sight that caused a slight blush to creep up on your face, despite the flush you originally had from the alcohol in your system.

he walked over and stood infront of you, "arms up." he motioned with his hands as well as his words, with you happily obliging as he pulled the top you were wearing off your torso and over your head, placing it on the bed beside you.

you fumbled with the button of your jeans and unzipped them, laying back and lifting up your hips slightly as he pulled the denim off of your legs in one swift movement, before helping you into his hoodie, which you quickly settled into, the warmth of his body still stuck in the fabric, as well as the subtle scent of his cologne.

you let out a soft hum as you crawled over into your bed, snuggling in under the duvet, your head resting perfectly on the pillows.

"you comfy?" he asked, smiling at your drunken state.

"mhm.." you hummed with a small nod, just as extra reassurance. he nodded slightly as your eyes closed, and he knew you'd quickly drifted off to sleep as he made his way to your bedroom door, flicking the light off on his way out, making sure not to make too much noise when leaving your apartment.

the fresh sunlight woke you up as it filtered through the curtains of your room, the sun just directly shining on you as you rolled over with a groan, trying your hardest to shield yourself from the blinding light.

your eyes fluttered open, settling on the glass of water and paracetamol on the bedside table, a small smile forming on your face, your mind flooding with the memories of the previous night, and just how well harry had taken care of you. looking down at yourself and seeing the hoodie your were wrapped up warm in, quickly identifying it is harry's, causing your smile to grow.

although the smile was quickly overtaken by a frown as the pounding in your head grew. pushing yourself up on your arms slowly, and leaning back against the headboard; you reached over for the glass of water and tablet, desperate for some sort of pain relief.

and all you could thing to yourself was:

harry lewis, the man you are.

#harry lewis #wroetoshaw #w2s #w2s x reader #harry w2s #oneshot #writing #youtube #sidemen

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cosmicdahlias · 4 months ago

Text

A Tale of Two Outlaws

an arthur and john x reader fic

MINORS DNI

You’ve drunk yourself into a stupor, Arthur takes you back to camp and John preposes a devilish idea.

warnings: dubcon, mild age gap with arthur (reader is in their 20’s), drunk sex, threesome, scratching, impreg, baby trapping, hangover

it’s pretty obvious by the end who i favor more hshxbdhdjdhd

Arthur kept a hand around your shoulder as you stumbled out of the saloon. He struggled to keep you on your feet.

“Jesus girl, how many drinks did you have?” Arthur asked, catching you as you almost tumbled to the ground.

“Bleventeeeeeen.” You smiled.

Arthur took his face in his hands. “Good god almighty, I told you to take it easy. You know you’re a lightweight.”

“I jus’ wan’ed to have a little fun, Mr. Morgan.” You slurred, giving him your best doe eyes.

“Yeah, and you’re gonna be sick as a dog come mornin’.”

“How come you ain’t drunk?” You asked.

“Cause I’m bigger than you and I wasn’t drinkin’ like someone was comin’ to saw my leg off.”

Arthur hoisted you onto his horse’s saddle.

“Wha’ ‘bout my horse?” You asked, still slurring your words.

“You’re too damn drunk to ride, we’ll come back for her in the mornin’ after you’ve had a chance to sober up.”

Arthur made his way back to camp with you against his back, your arms wrapped around his waist. You may or may not have fallen off his horse a few times.

“You’re gonna be bruised and cut up to hell tomorrow, you know that?” He said as he helped you up.

“Heh heh, battle scars.”

When you finally arrived Arthur went to pull you off his horse and you slumped over, once again falling off, you had passed out. He held you and gently tapped your cheek, trying to revive you.

“Hey, hey, y/n, come on girl.”

You opened your eyes, struggling to keep them that way. “BUH! I’M AWAKE!”

John overheard the commotion and walked over.

“Jesus, they look like hell. What’d you do to them, Arthur?” John asked.

“Ask them.” Arthur retorted.

You lifted your head up. “Eheheheheh, I got WASTED, John!”

“Yeah, no shit. You really can’t handle your booze.” John responded.

Arthur shrugged. “They were really on a mission to be the dumbest they could be.”

“Don’ y’all go judgin’ me.” You said with a hiccup, flopping out of Arthur’s arms onto the ground.

Arthur sighed, pulling you to your feet. “Alright come on, you think you can stand?”

“I’m a standin’ professional.” You said, immediately falling on your face.

Arthur threw up his hands and shook his head. “What the hell am I gonna do with you?” He said, scooping you into his arms again.

“Funny you should mention Arthur, cause I’ve been thinkin’. Remember what we was talkin’ about the other day? I mean come on, look at them. They ain’t gonna be able to say no, bet they’d like it actually.” John said, stroking your cheek with his thumb.

“Shit, Marston, you got some good ideas every now and then.”

Arthur dipped his head down and kissed you roughly, you grabbed at his neckerchief, pulling him closer.

John scoffed. “I fuckin’ knew it, you want this so bad. Should’a known, seein’ the way you walk ‘round camp, findin’ any reason to bend over in front of us.”

Arthur smirked devilishly. “Yeah, you have any idea what you do to the men here? What we say about you? You don’t wanna know the kinda shit that comes out of Micah’s mouth. We all want you, girl, every single one of us.”

“Are we just gonna stand here talkin’ or are we gonna actually do this?” John asked.

“Damn, you can be so impatient.”

Arthur carried you to your tent, he closed the curtains and set you down on the cot. You drunkenly fumbled with your clothes, attempting to take them off.

“Poor thing, too drunk to even strip. Let me help you princess.” Arthur said, kissing your neck.

Arthur unbuttoned your blouse and took off your skirt, he unhooked your bra and slid your knickers down your legs. You laid back, completely exposed to the both of them. John was the first to speak.

“Jesus fuckin’ christ, so that’s what you’ve been hidin’ under them clothes.” He said, unbuttoning his trousers, pulling his cock out and moving to spread your legs.

Arthur put out a hand. “Easy there, John, don’t get ahead of yourself. They need to be taken care of first.”

“Suit yourself, Arthur, I’ll be puttin’ that mouth to good use.”

Arthur pulled you to the edge of the cot and sank to his knees, slowly inserting his fingers inside you. John turned your head to face him and wasted no time shoving his cock in your mouth, gripping your hair.

“Tastes good, don’t it?” John said as he bucked into your mouth.

“Mhmf.” You nodded, mouth full of cock.

Arthur put his mouth to your clit, sucking and licking furiously. You moaned and reached your hand down to grab a fistful of his locks.

”Atta girl.” Arthur purred.

He curled his fingers at your g-spot and you moaned around John’s cock.

“Fuck, Arthur, I don’t know what you just did, but keep doin’ it. When you make them moan like that it feels stupid good on my dick.”

John increased his speed, fucking your mouth relentlessly. Arthur sucked hard on your clit, you bucked your hips into his mouth.

You felt your orgasm build, arching your back off the cot. Arthur could sense it, picking up his pace with his tongue and fucking you harder with his fingers. You salivated on John’s cock as you came all over Arthur’s face.

“Good girl.” He said softly, kissing your clit.

Arthur got to his feet and picked you up, his hands holding the underside of your thighs and you wrapped your arms around his neck while John came up behind you. Arthur slipped himself in first, John attempted to follow, but struggled to get it in.

You shifted nervously. “I- I don’ know if both’a y’all’ll fit.”

“Shhh, you can do it girl, just relax.” Arthur cooed.

John grunted as he made a second attempt, successfully entering you. You whimpered from the arousing and painful sensation of being stretched out by both of them. They began to move in you, trying to fuck you at a synchronized rhythm.

“Good girl, I knew you had it in you.” Arthur praised.

You were moaning nonstop, they both felt so goddam good.

“You hear the noises they’re makin’?” John asked.

“God, those sounds are so fuckin’ adorable. You really enjoyin’ yourself, ain’t you, babygirl?” Arthur said.

“Fuck, I should get drunk more often.” You said, burying your face in Arthur’s neck.

“If you’re always gonna be this fun, I’m all for it, girl.” John chuckled.

“You know, we was startin’ to think you was just a tease and that you didn’t really want none, that maybe you was a virgin.” Arthur said, grunting.

You laughed. “Oh you should’a seen me when I was younger, passed around more than a bottle of liquor. Worked out nicely cause now I know what men like y’all want and I know my way around a cock. Hell you think Dutch just let me join on a whim? Nah, I had him barkin’ like a dog.”

“Goddam, you’re a freak.” John said.

Arthur kissed your neck. “You startin’ to make me jealous of Dutch.”

Both of them started thrusting into you faster, trying to match each other’s speed. Arthur dug his nails into your thighs as John reached around to feel up your breasts.

“Fuck, you’re gonna make me cum and I ain’t cummin’ in you, I already learned my lesson with that.” John panted.

He pumped faster, his breathing becoming strained, pulling out and cumming all over your back, biting into your neck. His cum dripped onto the floor.

John stretched, buttoning his pants. “Well thanks for all the fun, girl, but I don’t see any point in stayin’ after cummin’.” He said while making his way out.

“Good, I was kinda hopin’ he’d give us some time alone.”

Arthur carried you to the cot and set you down on your stomach. He took a rag and wiped John’s cum off of you.

“There, sorry about that, John doesn’t always think of the ladies first.”

He turned you over, kissed you passionately and entered you again. He resumed his pace, his hands pinning your wrists. He pumped his cock into you roughly. You kissed him and he moaned into your mouth.

He started pulling himself fully out and slamming back into you just to hear you squeal, you raked your nails down his back and he let out a loud groan.

“Good girl, mark me. Make me yours.”

You moved yourself against him.

“Nnngh, fuck. That’s it, work those hips back on me.”

His breathing hitched, hips stuttering.

“I’m so close, you gonna let me cum in you?”

“I need it, Arthur.”

“That’s right, tell me how much you need me to cum in you, get you pregnant even.”

You tightened around him at his words, something about him wanting to impregnate you up was incredibly hot.

“Y-you want to knock me up?”

”Shit, I’ve wanted you for so long, if I have to fuck a baby into you to make it happen, so be it. Now c’mon, say it, tell me you want me to put a baby in you.”

“Nnh, I want your baby. I need your baby, Arthur.”

That absolutely did him in. He fucked you at a breakneck pace, the cot squeaking underneath you.

“Fuckin’ GOD!” He growled through gritted teeth.

He panted, getting a last few thrusts in before cumming deep inside you. He collapsed on top of you and laid there, cock still inside you without speaking.

Arthur kissed you as he finally pulled out. “You done good, girl. You want me to get you dressed and I can take off?”

“Mmmn, can you stay?” You mumbled through your exhaustion.

“Good choice, I was hopin’ you’d- wait, hold on.”

Arthur rummaged around in his satchel and pulled out a pencil and his journal. He grabbed a chair and sat down in front of you.

“Lay on your side and pose for me.”

You blushed, you’d always hoped he would include you in his journal. You turned to face Arthur and tried to emulate the poses of the girls you saw in those erotic pictures that the men passed around camp. He started to sketch you.

“That’s it, good girl. Put a hand on your tit. Yeah, just like that. Now try not to move.”

“You gonna use this to cum to later?”

“When I’m gone for days and you’re not around? Yes. I got needs, girl, and I’m not about to fuck some whore. I like you too much to lose you over something like that.”

“So, what you’re sayin’ is…”

“Yes, I plan on courtin’ you. I caught feelings for you and if my cum is worth anything I’m stayin’ with you for good, I ain’t no deadbeat.”

He sketched you in silence, the only sound being of his pencil against the paper. You yawned.

“Aww, tired ain’t you? Don’t worry I’m almost done, then I’ll let you cuddle up with me.”

After roughly 30 minutes he finally finished. He turned the journal to you.

“What d’ya think? Not as good as the real thing, but I think I captured you pretty well.”

You blushed. You looked absolutely gorgeous. Was this how he saw you?

“It’s perfect, Arthur.”

“Good, I’m glad to hear that. Now scooch over so I can hold you.”

You made space for him on the cot. He laid down and took you in his arms, your head on his chest. He sighed deeply, stroking your hair.

He had figured for a while that you found him attractive, but he assumed it never went deeper than that. He always felt something for you ever since he met you. So for you to want him to stay, want his baby, was everything.

You nuzzled into his chest as sleep embraced you, he kissed your forehead. Arthur watched you for a while, listening to the soft sounds of your breathing. He thought you looked so cute and peaceful asleep.

He could almost forget that you were a dangerous outlaw, sometimes more dangerous than him. He liked that, your fiery spirit was what drew him to you.

He fought sleep as long as he could, not wanting this moment to end, but eventually his eyelids grew heavy and sleep overtook him.

You awoke in Arthur’s arms the next morning to a splitting headache and intense nausea. You bolted to a wastebasket and promptly vomited. Arthur held your hair away from your face, rubbing your back.

“Have we learned why we don’t drink half our weight in liquor?” He asked.

“Fuck you, Arthur.” You said between retches.

“Already did last night and I’ll do it again.”

“If I wasn’t so focused on keeping things down I’d strangle you right now.”

He smirked. “Is that a promise?”

Weeks later the nausea would return, this time ceaseless, on the daily. Arthur had lived up to his word about getting you pregnant. You were gonna be his forever.

#arthur morgan #john marston #arthur morgan x reader #john marston x reader #arthur morgan fanfic #john marston fanfic #arthur morgan smut #john marston smut #red dead redemption #red dead redemption 2 #my fics

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novashelby · 15 days ago

Text

"His Desk Pet"- Tommy Shelby x Reader

Pairing: Tommy Shelby Warnings: Sub!reader, Dom!Tommy, cock warming, degrading language, humiliation, voyeurism, exhibition, choking, rough. Slight dubcon. Word Count: 1.2k Summary: Tommy wants his little pet to sit under his desk, be quiet, and warm his aching cock. The catch? His brothers are sitting just across from him.

War does things to people, and for Tommy Shelby, it was the blanket feeling of not giving a fuck. ‘Not giving a fuck’ was, of course, subjective. Though, it made his company quite uncomfortable. Tucked away, under his desk like the good pet he told her that she was, he undid his trousers. There was a hidden attempt at being discreet. While she was under there, his two brothers sat across from him; playing the role of oblivious. Of course, neither of them were. Arthur had caught the shadow of her foot through the space between the desk and the floor. John? He eyed Tommy as his hands fumbled with the belt. But remember, Tommy does not give a fuck.

John offered him an amused look, motioning to the desk. “Really? Are we a bloody audience to your fookin’ circus?” Arthur on the other hand leaned back, nursing his whiskey. He eyed his slightly younger, but more demanding younger brother with equal disgust and curiosity.

Tommy one handedly flipped through the accounts booklet that was scribbled with numbers and names. Drying he said, “I don’t know what you are talking about, John.” Meanwhile, just under that desk, she rested a bit hunched on her knees. He had one rule, one request; cockwarm him. Don’t move your mouth was what he had said to her. No licking, sucking, bobbing your head. Just warm me with that pretty mouth, Eh? With his left hand, he stroked himself hard, rubbing the precum at the top. She watched as he pushed his fingers at her. Without being told, she took his fingers in and cleaned them, devouring his taste. She had to hold back a little whine as he pulled them from her mouth and hit the back on her head to silently tell her to take him. “Now, boys-”

“You can’t be fookin’ serious,” John laughed with a wheeze. “What is she doing? Sucking your langer under the fucking desk?” He turned to Arthur, hitting his chest. “Are we seriously going to talk fixed boxing matches with-”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, John,” Tommy repeated, his eyes looking down at her, unimpressed. Her lips rested comfortably half way; his cock filling just before her gag reflex. Even so, her jaw felt sore. Little bubbles of drool decorated the corners of her lips. With a heavy hand on the back of her head, he pushed her down. Just with a look, he reminded her that you need to warm the whole cock, not only what you can take.

Arthur rubbed his temple. “A maid?”

Tommy let out a sigh as she took him down completely, her mouth warm and comforting around him. She on the other hand fought against the gags and chokes, drool streaming down her chin. But she was to just keep herself like that. It felt so…degrading? But the tingle between her legs told her that she liked it. Very much, actually. The fact that they knew she was under there, being obedient and good, but also very much a fucking slut. Or how he so casually ignored their curiosities. She fought through the pain radiating around her lips, jaw, and throat for her own sick, twisted pleasure for being humiliated. “Friday night, we will have to-”

“Is it Lizzie?” John asked.

“A whore?”

“That horse lady that you were fucking when-”

Tommy snorted. “Listen, she likes to be ignored. In fact, the more you ignore her, the faster I get off on the whole ordeal.” Arthur and John uncomfortably shifted in their seats and motioned for him to continue. Tommy droned on. But her, the toy under the desk, drowned them out with the sounds of her own spit gurgling. She did her best not lick or suck, or come across as bratty. Drool streamed from her lips, pooling around the floor and on his boots. Her once crisp, neat white blouse was stained with wet marks, clinging to her skin. Tommy eyed her, grinning as her nostrils flared, trying to keep up with breathing. Her whole face was red and flushed. As the gentleman he was, his hand kindly stroked her warm cheek.

Arthur was starting to become intrigued. “So, lemme ask one question.”

Tommy, lost in her eyes, smiled at her before touching the other cheek. “Good girl,” he mouthed before responding to his brother. “I prefer if you didn’t-”

“But I am,” Arthur cut him off, scratching at his ear. “Is she some type of…ah…um, what do they call it, Johnny boy?” John shrugged, laughing how if anyone was going to know, it’d be him. “A fetish thing…a pet-”

“A pet?” Tommy scoffed, amused, looking at him before at her. Her eyes never left him; big, round, and beautiful. So innocent and telling, yet he knew her too well. “Are you a pet?” he asked, laughing a little. “Hm?” He spoke to her as if she had limited brain cells. She sank a bit, moaning against him. “No, I don’t think you're a pet.” That is when his fingers squeezed her nose and she flipped out, hands slapping against his legs. The overwhelming feeling of not being able to breathe made her gain a sense of severity. Trapped and stuck with another holding her life in his hands. For what was only a few seconds felt like minutes. When he let go of her nose, she fought to suck in all of the air in the room. Tommy laughed, rubbing her cheek again. “No, Arthur, I care about my pets-”

“Tommy!” John choked. “Fookin’ ‘ell,” he sighed, scratching his nose. Arthur had to look away for a second, trying to compose his thoughts. He started to believe he didn’t have any; lost and shocked.

“Get off,” Tommy told her and she was thankful to finally relax her face. It was red, puffy, and messy, and her lips were swollen and pathetic. He swiped at her wet eyes that watered from the pain before he ‘kindly’ massaged her jaw. “Good girl…stand up, come on.” She crawled from under the desk and stood up. John and Arthur immediately looked at her before each other. Tommy pulled her in, enjoying the mess she made of herself. “You’re all messy,” he cooed, wiping her face with his handkerchief. “Come here, hm?” She got closer as he tended to her, rubbing her back. He tossed the cloth to the table before looking at his brothers. She felt a bit embarrassed, turning her head. Without saying anything, he pinched her chin to look forward. “Now, which one are you going to suck off first, eh?” She choked out, turning to him, unsure of what he was asking. He matched her frown with a smirk. “Choose wisely, one is an animal and the other likes to slap his whores around.”

Arthur coughed, nearly dropping his whiskey. “The fuck you’re gonna ask us that!” John blushed a bit in the cheeks, averting his eyes with a grin.

“Tommy, no…not after she just had you balls deep down her throat-”

Tommy leaned back, taking a smoke from his back and throwing it. His eyes scanned over her before saying. She felt like an animal in a cage at the zoo, everyone studying her. “She’s got two other holes, John. She has no objection to being used in any way needed of her. Isn’t that right?” He looked up at her.

Swallowing, she replied in a hoarse, unsure voice, “yes, sir.”

That made Tommy pleased. “Good girl. Now choose.”

#tommy shelby fanfiction #tommy shelby fanfic #peaky blinders #fanfiction #fanfic #peaky blinder fanfic #tommy shelby #peaky blinders fanfiction #tommy shelby x reader #Tommy shelby #Tommy Shelby x you #smut #one shot #John shelby #Arthur shelby #peaky blinders fanfic

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anastasiayeh · 2 months ago

Text

Ballet in the Wild West

Arthur Morgan was bord out of his mind. When he decided he was gonna watch some stupid show. That’s when he saw you, is this was love on first sights feels like?

Previous/next

This is accualy my first self written fan fic hehe 🤗 don’t be to hard on me pleas….

-Fluff-arthurmorganxreader-ballet-just cuteness-

____________________________________________

Arthur didn’t know why he’d gone into the little theater in Strawberry. Maybe it was the promise of sitting still for an hour or two, or maybe he’d just needed to be around people who weren’t shooting at him. Whatever the reason, the rough-edged outlaw now sat awkwardly in a polished seat that creaked under his weight, his hat balanced on his knee as the lights dimmed.

He wasn’t expecting much—just a bit of music, a little distraction. But then you walked out onto the stage.

Arthur froze, his usual guarded expression faltering. You looked like something out of a dream. The way you moved—graceful, effortless, almost floating—left him completely mesmerized. It wasn’t just the beauty of your dancing; it was the joy in your movements, the way it seemed to light up the whole room.

For a man used to chaos and hardship, seeing something so pure and full of life felt almost overwhelming. His heart did something unfamiliar in his chest—a soft, hesitant flutter, like a bird testing its wings.

By the time the performance ended, Arthur wasn’t sure he’d even breathed.

After the performance

Arthur lingered awkwardly in the theater lobby, standing off to the side as the crowd began to thin. He didn’t know why he was still there. He had no business talking to someone like you, but something about you had struck a chord in him he couldn’t ignore.

And then, as if fate itself had intervened, you stepped out from backstage. You were still in your costume, a soft shawl draped over your shoulders, and your face lit up when you noticed him.

“Oh, hello,” you said, your voice bright and warm. “Did you enjoy the show?”

Arthur nearly dropped his hat. He cleared his throat and nodded. “Uh, yeah. It was…” He paused, fumbling for the right words. “It was real nice. Beautiful, even. Never seen anything like it.”

Your cheeks flushed at the compliment, and you tucked a stray strand of hair behind your ear. “Thank you. That’s sweet of you to say.”

Arthur shifted his weight, suddenly hyper-aware of how big and rough he looked compared to the softness of you. “I, uh, don’t know much ‘bout dancin’,” he admitted, his voice quieter. “But you made it look… easy. Like you were just havin’ fun up there.”

You laughed, a light, tinkling sound that made his chest feel warm. “It is fun. Or, it’s supposed to be, anyway. Dancing makes me happy. It’s like…” You paused, searching for the words. “Like flying, but with your feet on the ground.”

Arthur smiled at that, his lips tugging up into a lopsided grin. “Never thought ‘bout it like that.”

“Well,” you said, your eyes sparkling with mischief, “maybe you should try it sometime.”

Arthur’s eyebrows shot up. “Me? Dancin’?” He chuckled, low and rough. “Don’t reckon I’d be any good at that.”

“Oh, I don’t know,” you teased, stepping just a little closer. “You look like someone who’s got rhythm. I bet you’d surprise yourself.”

Arthur ducked his head, his grin growing wider. “I’d probably trip over my own boots.”

“Good thing I know how to catch people,” you replied with a wink.

Arthur’s heart gave another strange flutter. He wanted to keep talking to you, to hear more of that laugh, but before he could think of what to say next, a sharp voice called your name.

“There you are!”

Both of you turned to see a woman bustling toward you, her arms full of costumes. “We’re leaving in twenty minutes! If you don’t hurry, we’ll miss the next coach!”

You sighed, giving Arthur an apologetic smile. “Sorry, I’ve got to go. But it was lovely meeting you…?”

“Arthur,” he said quickly, tipping his hat. “Arthur Morgan.”

“Well, Arthur,” you said, a playful note in your voice, “if you ever decide to give dancing a try, let me know. I’ll give you a lesson.”

Arthur’s grin softened as he watched you disappear backstage with the woman. He stood there for a long moment, the ghost of your smile lingering in his mind.

Later that night

Arthur had been leaning against the railing outside the saloon, lost in thought, when he saw you again. This time, you were standing by the edge of town, looking around with an anxious expression.

He frowned, setting his drink down and straightening. You looked like you were searching for something—or someone.

Before he could call out to you, two men approached. They were tall, rough-looking, and Arthur’s instincts flared immediately. You took a step back as one of them leaned in, his voice too low for Arthur to hear.

Arthur’s hand went to the revolver at his hip.

He didn’t know what business those men had with you, but he didn’t like the look of it. Not one bit.

To Be Continued…(maybe hehe 💕)

____________________________________________

Sorry for any bad English!

Ps: I’m a ballet dancer that’s why I came up this idea also it 03:04 for me rn and it took me about a half a hour to figure out how to do pictures in this 😭

Take care Luvs!

#rdr2 #rdr2 community #rdr2 arthur #rdr2 fandom #arthur morgan #rdr2 x reader #x reader #rdr #van der linde gang #arthur rdr2 #vanderlinde #take care of yourself #fluff #fluffyrdr2

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runnning-outof-time · 3 days ago

Note

K, I ran to your inbox the moment I saw you'd opened requests again! Could I pls request a blurb using this gif + the prompt "Working together again. Just like old times" as inspo? Only if you feel inspired tho, if not, feel free to ignore it.

I can always count on you to hype me up and help me out whenever I’m in need, Lee, and I’m deeply appreciative of that. 💛 Thanks so very much for sending this in! I’m sorry it took a bit for me to post it…I hope I did it justice! 😊

Like Old Times

Arthur Shelby x Reader

Summary: Arthur goes behind his brother’s back and seeks out (Y/N) for a plan.

Word Count: 1146

Warnings: none

COMMENTS & REBLOGS ARE APPRECIATED — I’d love to know what you thought of the story!

“Finally came to your senses, I see,” (Y/N) commented as she realized who it was standing in the archway of her sitting room. “Come, sit. Have a drink with me.”

Arthur Shelby stood, frozen for a moment or two longer. He clenched his peaked cap in his hands, his knuckles growing white as he contemplated whether or not was actually doing to do this. Was he actually going to turn his back on his brother?

“I…I just wanted ta…” he was a fumbling mess, his hesitance spilling out into his words.

“You can skip the explanation, Arthur,” she cut his babbling off. Her stern voice had him standing straight; almost like he’d just been called to attention. (Y/N) grinned when she noticed that she - still - had that effect on him. “Are you with me or not?” she asked then, a slight grin playing on her lips.

“I’m with you,” he nodded his head, sounding more sure now.

“Good,” (Y/N) nodded as well, “now come and sit. I’d still like to have a drink with you,” she attempted to coax him over again.

This time he listened. (Y/N) offered a closed mouth smile and a glass as he sat down in the seat across from her. Arthur accepted it, his eyes locked on her as he slowly brought the glass up to his lips and took a drink.

“So how are we going about it?” (Y/N) asked, crossing one leg over the other as she leaned back in her chair again.

“I…” he had to pause and clear his voice, hating how shaky it sounded as it came out, “I’m not sure if Tommy will, uh….I’m not sure he’ll appreciate anyone going against him,” he was finally able to voice his worry on the situation.

(Y/N)’s eyebrows furrowed as she heard what Arthur had to say. Silence hung between the two for a few moments before the slightest smile formed on her lips.

“What’s…what’s that smile for?” Arthur asked hesitantly.

“Tommy’s not going to have a choice in this matter, Arthur,” (Y/N) responded, her smile growing as she spoke.

“What do you mean?” he still wasn’t understanding what she was getting at.

“If I’m remembering what you said correctly…” she began, sitting up a little bit straighter in her seat before continuing, “he put you in charge of the Eden Club, right?”

“He did.”

“And so you’re the one who gets the final say in what happens there, right?” she asked another question.

“I am,” he was slowly starting to understand.

“And why else on Earth would you’ve come to me if not to get a second opinion on what the Peaky Blinders’d like the club to look like?” her grin was ear to ear now.

I miss spending time with you, was what Arthur wanted to say. But he couldn’t say that to her, not yet at least.

He kicked himself every single day for mishandling his and (Y/N)’s relationship. She was without a doubt the best thing that had happened to him, and yet he still managed to make a mess out of what they once had together. She stuck by him when the Shelby name meant nothing; when Arthur was trying everything he could to make sure his family survived after the war ended.

But then he chose the company over her. It was hard for him not to at the time…Tommy wanted him one-hundred percent invested, and Arthur was determined to show his brother that he also meant business. But meaning business meant personal matters fell to the back burner. (Y/N) wouldn’t have that, so she gave him the ultimatum: split his time better or she leaves. The end result was the latter.

“Arthur?” her voice pulled him out of his thoughts.

“Hmm?” the noise he made told her that he hadn’t heard what she said.

“I asked you about the vision you had for the club,” she repeated herself, not questioning the reason behind his zoning out, “were you thinking more traditional or modern?”

Arthur felt himself relax as he realized she actually wanted to get into discussion on the club’s appearance. He was worried she would want to re-hash past grievances. But she was ready to get to work, and he was thankful for it.

So get to work they did.

It wasn’t until they got to a pause in their conversation that Arthur realized he hadn’t had much of his drink. He was so engulfed in their shared ideas and her excitement for the upcoming projects that he didn’t so much as think of the thing that he so frequently used as a crutch.

“We laid a pretty adequate groundwork for the club so far, don’t you think?” (Y/N) asked, scribbling a few more things down in the notebook she’d grabbed for the occasion.

“I think so,” Arthur agreed, a grin on his face.

“Look at us, Arthur…” she started, a smile on her face as he raised his eyebrows at her, waiting to hear what else she had to say, “working together again…just like old times.”

Her smile grew as she finished her statement, watching as Arthur raisied his drink in a nonverbal agreement. He took a big swig from it then, enjoying the burn it brought as the liquid travelled down his throat.

“What if…” he started, clearing his throat in hopes he’d sound more confident, “what if I took ya to the club sometime?”

“So I could get a better idea of what we’re working with?” (Y/N) questioned, tilting her head to the side slightly.

“No, uh…” Arthur paused again, feeling silly because obviously she’d take his offer in that light, they’d only been discussing the plans on renovating the club for the last hour or so. “I was thinkin’…I was thinkin’ you and I could go there together. Like…like I could take you there and we could…”

“Arthur Shelby, are you asking me on a date?” she cut into his sheepish babbling, her eyebrows raised as a smile teetered on her lips.

“I, uh…” he let out a sheepish laugh, taking a deep breath and finding her eyes, “I guess I am,” he ended his statement with a smile, waiting on bated breath for her response.

Seconds felt like hours as they passed. (Y/N) wanted to make sure that she was making the right choice. She couldn’t deny that she had missed him. Him showing up and asking her for help at the club surprised her, sure, but she was overjoyed to be able to see him again. And now he was asking her out…maybe this was a chance to start anew.

So, her smile widened as she finally opened her mouth to give her answer, “I’d love to go with you, Arthur.”

Post note: I can’t seem to stop writing Arthur as a stuttering fool when around the woman he has feelings for….I just really think he’d act that way in said situation

MASTERLIST

Tagged: @succubaby @mystcldydrms @look-at-the-soul @mrsalwayswrite @julkaamazing

@evita-shelby @lilyrachelcassidy @theshelbyslimited @peakyswritings @watercolorskyy

@strayrockette @peakyduchesss @alexxavicry @stevie75 @dark-academia-slut

@zablife @cillmequick @letal-y-poetica @depxiety @shelundeadxxxx

@red-riding-wood @padfootdaredmetoo @crabat-the-queen @sebastianstangirl01 @everythingelseisextra

@kmc1989 @papichulo120627 @brummiereader @adaydreamaway08 @justrainandcoffee

@peakyltd @johannelis2302nely @just-a-blackhole @anotherblinder @ce1iat

@christinasyellowflowers @insanitybyanothername @daisyblinder @wotcherpeak @call-sign-shark

@sleepyycatt @novashelby

#arthur shelby #arthur shelby x reader #arthur shelby x y/n #arthur shelby blurb #arthur shelby imagine #arthur shelby fanfic #arthur shelby fanfiction #peaky blinders #peaky blinders x reader #peaky blinders x y/n #peaky blinders blurb #peaky blinders imagine #peaky blinders fanfic #peaky blinders fanfiction #fanfic #fanfiction

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pacifymebby · 1 year ago

Note

Arthur and a walk with the reader and their child. Maybe they're walking around their garden. Or Arthur tells the baby the names of the horses in the stable.

Fatherhood hadn't exactly come naturally to Arthur. He'd always been scared of having children, scared he was going to be like his own dad - flighty and unreliable - scared he was going to pass on the dreaded Shelby curse. Worse still, scared he'd end up raising a son just as violent, just as angry, pained and fragile as he viewed himself.

But when you'd fallen pregnant the first time he'd seen the tears of joy in your eyes and felt them mirrored in his. Sure, the fear hadn't dissipated and he was convinced he'd always be scared shitless of the wee one - not that he'd ever tell you that - but the second he had laid eyes on her that fear was dulled somewhat by a sense of great purpose. A sense of purpose which had overwhelmed him completely when he'd held your little girl in his arms for the first time, her head small enough it fit in the palm of his hand, her little body so tiny he could hold her like that, head in palm, little feet resting on his forearm as he bounced her gently to sleep.

He'd looked down at your little girl and known that no matter what he felt, no matter how bleak the world around him felt, he would always keep persevering for you and her. He'd do anything to make her life peaceful and full of joy. She was like a little ray of sunshine cut through all the bad, a diamond in the rough. He couldn't stop smiling and even now, a year later, he couldn't help but grin whenever he laid eyes on his little one.

Still, he often found himself at a loss to do. It wasn't that he was scared of her as such, it was that he couldn't quite relax when he was near her. Her big eyes looking at him expectantly. The knowledge that she relied on him completely, to look after her, to keep her safe... It was scary, it made him nervous. Meant that more often than not a lot of the time he spent with her was also spent with you because he knew that you wouldn't let anything go wrong. You would be there to sooth her if he was too rough or clumsy when he was holding her. He was terrified of making her cry, scared even just to think that he might, that if she did he wouldn't be able to help her, would only make things worse.

Today however was different. For the first time since the little girl had been born you'd left him alone with her. He'd been stunned when you'd told him that morning that you had to go out into the city for the day and wouldn't be able to take the baby with you. He'd stuttered and fumbled his words trying to ask you why not, all "but... How long are you gonna be gone for what should I do if.. If..."

"If what Arth? You'll be fine," you'd said with a smille shaking your head fondly. The truth was you could have taken the baby with you, the three of you could all have gone into town together but that wasn't what you wanted. What you wanted was for Arthur to realise he was a good dad, a capable father. For him to realise that his little girl thought the sun shone out of her daddy, just the same as he thought that of her. You'd noticed Arthurs apparent awkwardness from day one and you knew he'd always been worried about fatherhood.

You'd hoped that he'd settle into the role eventually, that he'd realise he really didn't have anything to fear... But as time had passed and you realised he still looked a little on edge just holding the little darling, you realised that you were going to have to intervene. Perhaps pushing him into the deep end wasn't the best idea, but you didn't know what else to do.

You'd already tried gently pulling back, leaving them to play together in the next room, leaving him to read to her, asking him to walk her round the garden when she couldn't sleep. Arthur always managed to stay close to you, to fall back on you. It wasn't exactly bad but you knew it couldn't be a good thing either. Besides, you wanted your daughter to love her father, to grow up trusting him, seeing the good in him. You didnt want her to feel he was distant or awkward. That would be just too sad.

So you'd left him alone, closed the front door and hurried off into the city to spend the day with your friends shopping. And now there he was, sitting at the kitchen table, your little girl Lily sitting on the table, one hand in a bowl of mashed banana the other in her mouth.

"Sposed to eat the food darlin how many times av i told you eh, foods for eatin not paintin..." chuckled Arthur, his low grumble broken by his smile. Lily really was a daddy's girl and he couldn't get mad at her for anything, even when she'd smeared herself, him and the table with banana and honey gloop.

"Right, alright," he smiled tickling her belly through her dress as he reached to pick her up, "you've had your fun with that now i reckon, time to get you cleaned up an then you an daddy have the whole day to do whatever we like, how does that sound darlin? How about that eh?" he said kissing her on the head, using his thumb to scoop a little of the banana from her cheek. When he licked his fingers he screwed his nose up.

"No alright I don't blame you littlen, thas no good for owt but paintin with..." He mused as he scooped her up in his arms and kissed her cheek which only meant that they were both covered in banana and honey gloop.

But once he was holding her in his arms he was once again at a loss, uncertain how he should even speak to her. He'd heard it was good to talk to babies as though they were adults because it helped them learn how to have intelligent conversations, but he wasn't sure he would be much use there. He couldn't remember having ever had the kind of conversation others might consider intellectual.

Besides he wasn't half as gentle talking to adults as he was with Lily. Didn't seem right for him to start talking to her the way he talked to his brothers, nor did it seem right for him to talk to her the way he spoke to you. So he stood in the kitchen doorway looking out at the chickens pecking at the dirt on the drive and he bounced Lily in his arms until she giggled and clasped her little hand around the hairs in his beard.

He grinned, the sound of her laugh was ever so contagious and never failed to make him smile.

"Right well, how about a nice little walk round the garden eh, suns out and I can introduce you to all the animals round the farm eh? What dya reckon sunshine would you like that?" He asked her looking down at her with all the love in the world. She was so pure and precious and that was exactly why he got so nervous to be with her, just seeing the joy and innocence in her bright doe eyes made his stomach twist with anxiety at the thought that he wasn't good enough for her. That he could never be the kind of dad she deserved because he wasn't a good enough man.

But when she smiled up at him and reached for his face with her tiny hand, her stubby little fingers skimming his beard as she giggled and said "dada dada," one of the only words she could he found his nerves replaced with a swell of pride and a smile he couldn't shake off.

"Alright then sunshine," he said with a grin, bouncing her in his arms as he carried her out of the kitchen door and into the garden, the stoned beneath his feet crunching as he made his way to the gathering of chickens on the driveway. He'd fed them earlier that morning but he still had some dried corn in his pockets and he was hoping Lily would enjoy scattering a handful or two across the garden.

"Right then sweetheart," he said using his finger to uncurl the little toddlers hand, "here we are you take some of this shite... Fu.. I mean... Sorry darlin eh, you just ignore your daddy he's a very naughty man eh, you just feed the chickens an ignore him eh..." he grinned sheepishly as he did his best to fill her tiny hand with dried corn. She scrunched her fist up tight around and smiled flexing her fingers a little too soon so that when the feed fell from her hand it fell all down Arthur's shirt and got stuck on his trouser legs.

"You little rotter," he chuckled kissing her forehead as he boosted her up in his arms and helped her have another go. His dismay only setting in when one of the chickens began pecking at his ankles to pick at the feed little Lilly had dropped all over him. "Oh bloody... Go'wan get away!" He grumbled at the hen who seemed determined to peck right through his trouser leg. As he shook the troublesome bird off his ankle Lilly looked down at the silly little scene from her Daddy's arms, her eyes lit up as a giggle escaped her. And when Arthur looked down at her well there was no way he could remain frustrated or preoccupied with that damn chicken.

He couldn't do anything but smile when he looked down at little Lilly, couldn't do anything but beam down at her and press another kiss to her bonny head, heart full to bursting with pride every time she smiled.

"Right darlin right let daddy show you this time eh, let's do it together..." he said taking her little hand beneath his and guiding her as she threw the seed across the path. This time it really scattered and the two of them grinned down at their success as the chickens gathered and began eating the feed from the ground rather than from Arthur's leg. "That's better there we go that's fu... That's better."

Not swearing in front of Lily was perhaps the hardest part of fatherhood. It was the only thing you'd notice he hadn't quite taken so naturally too. Even if he couldn't see it himself, in every other element of fatherhood he was perfect. He was loving, a little clumsy but gentle and nurturing always. He made your little girl laugh like nobodys business. He was always worrying about her, always the first to rush to her side if she took a trip or bashed her head... He was perfect. But he just couldn't control that potty mouth of his. The bad words just had a way of slipping out and you were beginning to worry that when Lilly finally managed her first word that first word would be "fuck."

"Right then little miss sunshine," he grinned bouncing her in his arms, unable to hold back his fond chuckle when Lilly began giggling at his jostling movement, "let's introduce you to everyone eh... This beautys name is Eloise, she's pretty for a chicken ain't she, what dya reckon my darlin? Prettiest chicken you've ever seen right, beautiful, gorgeous bird... And this... This is Audrey... She's a bit, she's a bit stuck up if you ask me like, look at her see, strutting around like she owns the place... And this, this little rotter of a bird, her name's Helen and she's got one bloody... She's got one very sharp f.. beak on her, aye one very sharp beak.."

Lilly tried to reach down to the chickens, stretching her tiny body away from Arthur's and though she was only small, for a second she almost managed to tip their shared balance so that Arthur stumbled and almost - thankfully only almost - stepped on the smallest chicken. That was your chicken, one you'd found shrinking away, not doing as well as the other chicks in the brood. You'd insisted upon bringing her into the house to look after yourself, insisted on naming her too which Arthur had tried to encourage you against. It wasn't that he was cruel he just didn't want you to get attached to a chick that might not survive. But she had survived and now she lived out in the garden with the others.

"Ahh," chuckled Arthur thinking of you fondly, wishing you were there with him and Lilly. "You've found your mammy's hen little one, her names Pearl..." He said crouching down so that Lilly could get a closer look, being sure to hold her up and away from the hens who were prone to a curious peck or two.

Lilly watched them with wide curious eyes, her little smile breaking into a giggle as she watched the birds funny little walk, the way they jutted their necks with each step.

She flinched when Helen and Audrey began clucking a little too wildly for her baby ears and Arthur decided that perhaps it was time to head to the stables instead. It would be quieter inside the stable and the horses were gentle beasts Lilly would be able to pat and babble at to her heart's content.

"Alright little poppet," smiled Arthur kissing his little girls cheek again, his mustache tickling her cheek and neck so that her giggle rang out melodically around the garden. That sound was music to Arthur's ears. It was the sound which reassured him he wasn't such a bad man after all. That if nothing else, he would always know that there was one person on this earth he could make smile. And she just so happened to be the most important person on this earth too.

The stable was quiet just as he'd hoped and where the sun broke through the scattered cracks in the roof the afternoons warm light filtered in and graced the hay on the floor with a golden glow.

"Alright," he whispered, his beard tickling Lilly's face as he leant in to talk quietly in her ear. He always tried to be quiet when he came to the stables. It was such a gentle, peaceful little place and he liked to preserve it. Keep it soft, a sanctuary not just for the animals but for him. "Alright," he whispered, "there's someone who wants to meet you little one..." he said carrying Lilly to one of the stall where the newest addition to the family was standing on shakey little legs.

"But we've got to be nice a quiet eh my darlin, cause he's only a baby int he, just like you... So he might be shy..." he put his finger over Lilly's lips and shushed, grinned when he felt her blow a hissed "Shhhh" of her own against his hand. When he carried her over to meet the little foal he was struck by how similar they were, considering one was after all a baby horse and the other a baby girl.

But they were. They were both so delicate. So pure. These tiny, vulnerable little creatures who depended on him in their own way. Two sweet little lives to be nurtured and loved. Two tiny things he had to be gentle with.

He wasn't sure how he was going to manage that but he knew that since Lilly had been born he'd learnt a lot about being gentle. That slowly but surely he was learning tenderness too.

"Ain't she beautiful eh Lilly?" He whispered. It wasn't the first time he'd seen the little foal but as Lilly gazed at the timid creature in awe Arthur felt the softness in his own eyes. The melting of his cold heart. "Wanna say hello littlen?" He asked taking an apple from his pocket to settle the foals nerves.

"Hello lovely," he said holding the apple out and watching as the foal eyed them warily. He was still working on trust with this one, something Tommy had always been better at than him. Still he was determined to show the little creature his gentle side, prove that he could trust him. Not just for the foals sake but for his own sake too. Prove to himself that he could be gentle too.

And so when the foal approached him, his little legs shaking, Arthur couldn't hide the grin, couldn't hide the swell of pride which rose to his chest and then got stuck in his throat when little Lilly reached her hand out to stroke the foals soft hair.

"Careful now sweetie pie," he whispered to Lilly, "nice and gentle eh don't wanna spook him..." but the foal was far from spooked. In fact he seemed to warm to Lilly, standing patient and still whilst she stroked his nose with a smile on her lips.

"Tell you what darlin," smiled Arthur, it had been his plan from the very beginning but he presented it to her now as though he'd only just thought it up, "since you two're gettin along so well eh, why don't you come up with a name for him? Hasn't got one yet have you mate?" He said copying his daughters gentle movements and giving the little foal a pat.

But when Lilly looked up at him and smiled, clapped her little hands together with this big beaming grin on her face, her wide eyes bright with mischief, Arthur realised that perhaps it was a little too soon to offer her that kind of responsibility.

"Hmmm," he chuckled as he stood quietly, letting Lilly continue to pet her new best friend. He wasn't expecting her to be the one to break the silence. Certainly not in the way that she did... With a word she'd not yet said before.

"Da..." she said reaching out to stroke the foals nose again, "Dada!" When she said it Arthur couldn't quite believe his ears. Wasn't sure he hadn't just imagined it. But when he looked down at Lilly his smile already too much to be contained, she turned to look up at him and pointed at the foal, her own eyes bright and smiling too.

"Dada!" She said again pointing at the little foal, waving her hands to get Arthur's attention - though she had his undivided attention in that moment. He was stunned by her, could hardly process the emotions he felt. Struggling to keep the tears out of his eyes.

"No sweetheart," he grinned kissing her head and turning her round to face him, "that's me.. I'm Dada!" He chuckled, laughing louder when she pointed once more to the foal and repeated herself over and over again until he was forced to accept that when you came home and asked about his day he would have no choice but to tell you all about it. How lovely it was. How Lilly enjoyed meeting the little foal... "He's called Dada by the way..."

Taglist:

@call-sign-shark

@inalovesrabbits-blog

@cocoaflowers

@zablife

@jomarch-wannabe

@itsghostgirlyo

@marwwfairy

@toddlerbodybag

@everysage

@tommyshelbywhore

@kas3ylovesyou

@kxnnxy

@starrykitn

@only-malala

@galactict3a

#peaky blinders imagines #arthur shelby x reader

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knoepfl · 3 months ago

Text

Bang Bang

Characters:

Arthur Fleck – A man consumed by loneliness and desperation, who finds hope in a fleeting encounter.

Reader – A confident, mysterious figure who crosses paths with Arthur, unknowingly igniting something powerful within him.

Trigger Warnings: •obsession

•loneliness

•romantic fixation

Masterlist

Words: 934

---

Arthur wasn’t used to feeling this way. Not about anyone. But every time he closed his eyes, there you were. The way you moved, the way you looked at him that night—it was burned into his memory, vivid and alive. A crooked smile pulled at his lips as he shifted on the couch in his psychiatrist’s office, fingers twitching with the need to tell someone, anyone, about you.

“So, Arthur,” she said, her pen poised as she peered over her glasses. “Anything new you want to share?”

Arthur swallowed, his fingers tightening around the edge of the couch. “I… I met someone.”

Her pen hovered in mid-air. Arthur rarely spoke about anything personal, and certainly not about anyone else. But there was something different in his voice, an urgency, a glimmer of life that felt fragile, dangerous, beautiful.

He took a breath, his words tumbling out in a chaotic rush, his voice low and reverent. “She was… stealing. I mean, she was quick, clever. I saw her hands move, real fast, and then she was out, just like that.” His eyes sparkled, a light she’d never seen before. “And when she saw me staring, she didn’t run away. No. She looked right at me, smiled like she didn’t have a care in the world. And in that moment…” His breath hitched. “It was like… bang, bang.”

“Bang, bang?” she echoed, confused.

Arthur’s face flushed. He hadn’t meant to say it out loud, to put that feeling into words. It was more than he could explain—a sensation, raw and sharp, like a bullet lodged in his chest. “Yeah,” he said softly. “Like… it just hit me. Right here.” He clutched at his chest, his fingers curling as though to grasp the memory, to hold onto that feeling before it slipped away. “It was like she had some kind of weapon, but it wasn’t a gun or a knife. Just… just a look.”

The memory flooded back, each detail more vibrant than the last. How your eyes met his, unwavering and bold, as though you’d aimed right at him and pulled the trigger. And that smile—it was deadly, but soft, almost inviting him to follow, to see what happened next. He couldn’t help but feel like he was the target, like he’d been hit twice. Bang, bang, and he was down, helpless and lost in a feeling he didn’t understand.

“She’s like a shot in the dark,” he murmured, almost to himself, as he felt that flicker of exhilaration return. “She didn’t even have to say a word. Just the way she looked at me, it was like… she wanted me to follow, to see if I could catch her.” He chuckled softly, his voice dipping low. “But she was gone before I could even think. She disappeared, like she knew how to stay just out of reach.”

“Arthur, let’s try to stay grounded here,” his psychiatrist interrupted gently, sensing the shift in him, the tremor of obsession that flickered in his eyes. “What exactly happened? Did you… talk to her?”

Arthur’s face flushed, and he lowered his gaze. “Not exactly.” He rubbed his hands together nervously. “She… she left before I could. But… she left something behind.” His fingers fumbled in his pocket before pulling out a small trinket—a charm she’d accidentally dropped. He turned it over in his hand, tracing the lines, as if he could reach through it to her. “It’s like she wanted me to find it. To… to find her.”

The psychiatrist eyed the trinket, her gaze flickering with concern, but Arthur’s voice was already spilling over again, faster, more urgent.

“You don’t understand,” he said, his voice a strained whisper. “She was… everything I’m not. Confident. Strong. I could see it in the way she walked, the way she looked at me like she wasn’t afraid. And that smile…” He pressed his hand to his heart, that lopsided grin spreading across his face. “Like a bullet, right here.”

“Arthur,” she said softly, trying to pull him back from wherever his mind was drifting, but his gaze was distant, fixed on the memory of you.

“She’s different. She’s not like everyone else,” he murmured, the words almost reverent. “I’ve been thinking… Maybe if I can find her, she’ll see me too. See me like she did that night. And then—” His voice trailed off, and he looked up at her, almost pleading. “Do you think she could?”

His psychiatrist took a deep breath, her fingers stilling. “Arthur… Sometimes we see what we want in other people. Maybe she seemed like that in the moment, but that doesn’t mean—”

“No.” His voice was firm, cutting through her words. “No, you don’t understand. It’s not just in my head. She… she made me feel something, something real.” His face softened, his eyes distant as he relived the scene. “And I want to see her again. I need to.”

The psychiatrist hesitated, her pen tapping softly against her notebook. “Arthur, I think it might be helpful to think about what you really want from this. Sometimes we can create fantasies around people, and… it’s important to remember that they’re just people, with their own lives, their own struggles.”

Arthur’s gaze dropped to the trinket in his hand, fingers tracing it lovingly, and he nodded slowly. But even as he did, a small smile curled on his lips.

In his mind, you weren’t just anyone. You were someone who had seen him, who had seen beyond the shadow of his loneliness and despair. Someone who had, if only for a moment, let him feel alive.

---

Author’s Note: Thank you for reading! I really wanted to capture that mix of obsession and excitement that Arthur would feel, that rush like being shot through with something wild. This story is meant to give a sense of how he would try to hold onto those moments, feeling that overwhelming impact of meeting someone who, even briefly, let him feel seen. Also I've added elements of a song ive had in my mind for some time now. Its "Bang Bang" from K'NAAN. Let me know if you'd like to see more!

#fanfic #oc #arthur fleck x you #arthur fleck x reader #fluff #arthur fleck fanfic #arthur fleck #arthur x reader #joker x reader #Joker 2019 #Arthur Fleck #psychiatrist #Theft #Stealing #Song #Obsession #Love fixation

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moonlightkitties · 13 days ago

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You're Your Father's Daughter - Red Dead Redemption Reader Insert (Part Ten)

Plot: During your healing process, you dream parts of your childhood.

Warnings: Graphic wound/Death of a parent/Substance use (morphine)/Death of an Animal/Fear and anxiety.

Word Count: 2,649.

Arthur’s voice was tight with fear, you could feel the tension in his arms as he held you closer, his voice breaking through the haze.

"Don't pass out," Arthur begged, knowing that if you did you might not wake up.

Through half-closed eyes, you could see the sky above, streaked with deep oranges and purples as the sun dipped below the horizon. The world around you blurred, but Arthur’s voice remained steady, keeping you conscious.

You tried your best to stay awake but eventually succumbed to your injury and blacked out.

"Miss Grimshaw!" Dutch yelled, dismounting The Count and rushing over to Arthur to pick you up.

You clung onto Dutch as your blood stained his shirt and you were set down on your cot. Sean rushed over, his eyes full of fear and panic as he took in the sight of you.

"What happened?" he asked, kneeling down beside you.

"Leviticus Cornwall happened," Dutch replied, his voice sharp with anger as he carefully worked with Miss Grimshaw to remove your blood-soaked layers and reveal the wound.

"Mr. MacGuire," Miss Grimshaw snapped, "If you're not going to help then get out of my way, or better yet, go get Reverend Swanson for me, she's gonna need his morphine."

Sean hesitated before leaving, giving you one last worried glance before the tent flaps fell.

"This wasn't supposed to happen," Dutch said, standing back so Miss Grimshaw could work on covering your wound. He could see her wincing as she tore off the last of your shirt, the bullet was deep and you would definitely need stiches.

“Dutch,” Miss Grimshaw said sharply, snapping him out of his daze, “I need you to hold her steady. If she starts thrashing, this could get worse.”

Dutch immediately refocused, his large hands gripping your shoulders gently but firmly. “I’ve got her,” he said, his tone softer now as he glanced down at your pale face. “You just do what you need to do.”

Pouring whiskey over a rag, she quickly, but gently, cleaned the wound, you flinched and let out a small whimper of pain but Dutch, holding your arms down so you couldn't thrash around, shushed you.

"You're okay, darlin', we got you," Dutch comforted, his voice soothing.

Abigail arrived, water and bandages in her right hand, thread and needle in the other, "How bad is it?" she asked, bending down and looking over it.

"Deep, but didn't hit anything vital, she's lucky she survived this long."

Just as Abigail started piercing your skin with the needle, Sean returned with Reverend Swanson, he was disheveled, as usual, but seemed to sober up as he took in the sight of you. “Morphine,” Miss Grimshaw barked, holding out a hand.

Swanson fumbled with his bag before producing a vial and a syringe, his hands trembling slightly as he handed them over.

Miss Grimshaw administered the morphine quickly, and your body visibly relaxed, your labored breaths evening out slightly. “That’ll help her through the worst of it,” she said, wiping her brow. Dutch let out a shaky sigh, his hand brushing the hair from your face again. “She’s strong,” he murmured, more to himself than anyone. “Stronger than all of us.”

Dutch left the tent, walking over to Arthur and John, who seemed to be deep in a heated argument.

"I don't know why you even bothered taking her with us!" Arthur yelled, "Ever since that O'Driscoll camp Dutch has her going on every job! She's just a kid!"

"That's enough, Arthur," Dutch warned as he walked over to them.

Arthur turned to him, his face red with rage, "Enough?" he repeated "That girl is fighting for her life, Dutch!"

"Don't you think I know that?" Dutch asked, trying to keep his cool, "She's old enough to shoot a gun, she's old enough to join us on jobs," he snapped.

Arthur clenched his jaw, turned around and stormed towards your tent.

When he stepped inside the tent, his heart ached at the sight of you, your face was pale and your chest fell up and down with slow, uneven breathes. Sean sat beside you, holding your hand and whispering something Arthur couldn't hear. Sean jumped as he turned and saw Arthur and clutched his chest "Don't sneak up on me like that, English," Sean said, setting your hand down.

"Sorry," Arthur told him, sitting down on a chair next to Sean "How is she?" he asked. Sean sighed "Grimshaw says she stable for now but she has a fever," Sean said, his voice a scared whisper.

"We can take down a fever," Arthur tells him, "I'm more worried about her getting an infection." Arthur put his hand on Sean's shoulder "but for now, lets let her rest, she wouldn't want you worrying about her."

---------

"Arthur!" you exclaimed, rushing to his side right after he dismounted Boadicea. Arthur chuckled and picked you up, swinging you around. "Hey, kid, where's Dutch?" he asked, putting you back down. "In his tent with mama!"

You tugged at his sleeve, eager to keep him from wandering off just yet. “Did you bring me anything?”

Arthur chuckled and reached into his satchel, pulling something out.

"As a matter of fact, I do," he said, handing you a small wooden carved horse. You squealed and hugged him tight "Thank you!" you said, running off to show John and Tilly.

You jumped at the sound of gunshots, your eyes widening as Annabelle, your mother, picked you up and rushed you outside, where John and Tilly were busy saddling up their horses.

"Mama?" you asked, confused and exhausted as she frantically set you on Tilly's horse.

She looked at Tilly and gave her a warm smile, "Take care of her," she pleaded, Tilly nodded and Annabelle looked at John "Take care of them, okay?" John nodded "I will," Annabelle kissed you before she was dragged away from a stranger and pushed onto the floor, as Tilly and John rode away, you heard a gun shot and turned around right to see your mother fall on the ground.

-------

You gasped as you sat up but immediately groaned in pain. You looked around, you were alone and by the looks of your pitch black tent you figured it was the middle of the night. You tried to sit up but fell back down, your eyes giving into your pain.

-------

"Can we go riding?" you, who was now eight, asked Hosea, who was cleaning his guns in the middle of camp.

"Riding?" He asked and you nodded "You don't even have a horse," he chuckled "Well....I can ride behind you on Silver Dollar," you shrugged. Hosea sighed and put his gun back in his holster, "Fine, but we're not staying out late."

As Hosea made Silver Dollar make his way down towards the river surrounding the camp, you noticed two figures that looked very much like horses. "Hosea, look," you said, pointing over to the small field, "there's horses over there!" Hosea followed your finger, squinting in the sunlight. There was a horse lying on the ground, and a smaller one laying next to it. As Hosea made Silver Dollar walk closer to them, a small gasp left your lips as you noticed that the bigger one, a mare, was dead and ripped open while the smaller one, a foal, looking extremely weak beside her.

The sight of the foal made your chest tighten and before Hosea could say anything you already dismounted and ran towards it.

"(y/n)!" Hosea exclaimed, rushing over towards you, "you can't just run off like that."

Hosea sighed and bent down, touching the pitiful creature, "poor thing," he said, glancing around cautiously, his hand resting on his gun. "We shouldn't stay too long. They might come back." You shook your head, "we can't just leave it here!" you protested, referring to the foal, your small hands reached out to touch its soft, trembling flank. "Please, Hosea, we have to help it."

Hosea sighed, "it's nature, sometimes theses things happen, and even if we do bring it back to camp, we don't have a mare to nurse it." You frowned, your eyes welling with tears as you looked at the helpless foal. "But it's just a baby," you pleaded, your voice cracking. "It doesn’t deserve to die like this. Please, Hosea. We have to try." Hosea sighed and looked at the foal and then to your pouting face. "I'll take care of it!" you insisted, "the responsibility will fall on me!"

Hosea sighed again, "fine, but if it dies, I don't want you crying."

-------

Your eyes opened and you were burning up, your stomach hurt and you couldn't even muster up a groan of pain. A rag laid across your forehead, the cold water trying to cool you down. Your vision was blurry as you looked around your tent, like earlier, no one was there beside you and you longed for Sean's touch. The tent flapped open and through your fever you caught a glimpse of Arthur, who's face softened at the sight of your opened eyes.

"How you feelin'?" he asked, sitting down beside you. Your lightly shrugged "fine," you replied, your voice hoarse. Arthur tilted a cup of water to your mouth and you gratefully and selfishly drank. "You got a fever," Arthur began, "Miss Grimshaw worked hard to keep it down but it keeps comin' back," he said, shaking his head in worry. "Where's Sean?" you ask, pulling your head up. "Sleeping, he's been with you all night, he didn't want to leave you but I made him go." You nodded and you could feel yourself slipping away, the last thing you saw before you blacked out was Arthur's face.

-------

"Okay kid, you ready to learn to ride?" Arthur asked as you stood behind a now healthy four year old Whiskey. You could never imagine that the weak, tiny, filly you and Hosea encountered that spring morning would turn into such a gorgeous, strong, stubborn, mare.

You nod, tightening Whiskey's saddle and mounting her. Arthur mounted Boadicea beside you and grinned. "Alright, hold the reins steady, don't pull too hard; just enough to guide her." You glanced at Arthur, your brow furrowed in concentration. “What if she doesn’t listen?” Arthur chuckled, "She will. Be firm, but gentle and you'll have her do whatever you want." Taking a deep breath, you loosened your grip slightly, and Whiskey relaxed. Arthur gave you an encouraging nod. “There you go. Now, give her a light nudge with your heels, and she’ll start moving.”

You obeyed and she started walking, Arthur made Boadicea walk beside you and as you walked out of camp, you started to get more confident. "Can we go faster?" you ask eagerly, Arthur chuckled "Fine, but not too fast, you don't wanna get bucked off on your first ride." You nudged Whiskey again and she started trotting, the wind felt cool against your hair and you laughed as Arthur rode up beside you.

"Feel's good, doesn't it?" he asked, a grin settled on his face.

You nodded "It's amazing!"

You turned your head, the camp just a small dot from where you both began. "Where we goin'?" you asked Arthur, who shrugged, "I dunno, don't wanna go too far, jus' thought you’d like to see a bit of the world outside camp. No better way to bond with a horse than to explore together."

A river fell into your eye sight and you lead Whiskey towards it and dismounted, Arthur following.

"Thank you for teaching me to ride," you say as he stood beside you. Arthur smiled and pulled his arm over your shoulders and pulled you closer, "you're welcome, kid, I'm a better brother than John, huh?" he laughed and you rolled your eyes.

-------

Your eyes stung as you opened them, you weren't burning up but your stomach was still killing you. You turned your head to see Sadie sitting beside you. She gave you a smile as you blinked your eyes to get adjusted to the light. You were confused as you noticed the bandage on your torso and your shaking hands. "What happened?" you asked, your voice still very hoarse. Sadie narrowed her eyes at you in confusion, "you don't remember?" she asked, feeling your forehead. "You got shot a few days back by Leviticus Cornwall and his men, you gave the whole camp a scare, but Abigail and Miss Grimshaw took care of you."

You stood up in your cot in shock, "a few days?" you repeated. Sadie nodded. "Well...what happened while I was asleep?" you asked, your mind still trying to comprehend what had happened, the only thing you remember was getting taken by those men in Valentine.

"Well..." Sadie began, a mixture of a sigh and chuckle leaving her, "Arthur and Charles found us a new camp and we just settled in last night." You laid back in your cot in shock, your head pounding. You stared up at the tent ceiling, trying to piece together everything Sadie had told you. The events before you blacked out felt distant and surreal, like a dream you couldn’t quite recall. "Where are we now?" you asked quietly, your voice trembling with exhaustion.

"Clemens Point," Sadie told you, leaning back in her chair, "nice enough place, it's right by the lake." You gasped in pain as a terrible cramp hit you. Sadie rubbed your shoulder as you moved to your side, clutching your stomach. "You've been doing that a lot lately, especially in your sleep."

The tent opened and Sean walked in, his face lighting up at the sight of your open eyes. He quickly made his way over to you and Sadie left, talking about "needing to help Pearson with the vegetables." You gave Sean a half-pained, half-happy smile as he took the seat that Sadie was in. Sean leaned in closer, "You’ve no idea how good it is to see you lookin' at me again," he said softly, his voice carrying a mixture of relief and worry.

"You scared me, lass," he said, kissing your forehead.

"I'm fine," you tell him, grabbing his hand.

"I don't want ta leave ya but Dutch wanted me ta get im' when you woke," he said, getting up off his chair. You nodded, telling him that he could leave. You were left alone in your tent until the flaps opened again and Dutch, with Hosea entered. They both looked relived as you weakly smiled at them.

"Oh, sweetheart..." Hosea began, moving your hair away from your face. Dutch smiled and took your hand "How are you?" he asked. "Fine," you told him, "you don't look fine," Hosea said, glancing over at Dutch. "Well, I'm not buried in the ground so I would say I'm fine," you weakly laughed. "You need to rest more," Hosea said, his voice gentle but firm. You sighed in annoyance and sat up, ignoring the piercing pain in your abdomen and your body's scream for you to lay back down, "I've rested long enough," you said. Dutch let out a sharp sigh "you're still really sick," he said, "Miss Grimshaw just recently got your fever down."

"But-" you began to protest, "No buts," Dutch snapped, "I almost lost you, and I'm not going to go through that again." You laid back down but a frown was still plastered on your lips. Dutch patted your shoulder and left the tent, Hosea following close behind. Sean came back in and you scooted over, longing for his touch, "lay next to me," you said, patting the empty spot on your cot. "Of course, love," Sean said, kicking his shoes off and laying next to you. "Don't leave me," you whispered, putting your head on his chest, "never," he whispered.

"Promise?"

"Love, until the very last breath I take, I will always stay with you."

#moonlightkitties #you're your father's daughter #rdr fanfic #rdr fanfiction #sean macguire x reader #arthur morgan #rdr fandom #rdr #rdr2 #rdr 2 #red dead redemption 2 #red dead fandom #red dead redemption #rdr2 dutch #dutch van der linde #john marston #sean macguire

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mooncalf87 · 11 months ago

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Cherrisnake??? 🥺🥺🥺🥺💕💕💕💕💕 Tell me more

SORRY THIS TOOK ME SO LONG my brain short circuited and I couldn't fathom this ask lol

EVEN MORE CHERRISNAKE HCS <3

Forgive me if some of these are repeats, I dont remember what I did on the first two lists LOLOL also I am gonna do a few with my Pentious fan kid Adelaide, but I'll indicate where that starts

Snuggle bug. Pentious craves physical touch and comfort CONSTANTLY, which Cherri enjoys giving.

If you put them in a room together and lock the door there is a good 80% chance they will find out how to make a bomb out of carpet fuzz and drywall

They are big on PDA, but they- and everyone really- dont really notice it. They love giving quick kisses to each other, Cherri often finds her seat all cuddled up in Pentious's lap. It is a normal thing at the hotel, no one thinks much of it.

Cherri isn't interested in getting redeemed, which is something that Pentious 100% respects. They make it work

Pentious tried to propose but dropped the ring like 5 times. Cherri even handed it back to him once (he didn't realize)

Adhd couple

Their ideal date night is getting drunk off their asses and blowing up the Vee district

Pen is far from being a virgin, but he fumbles around in bed like one. Cherri finds it HILARIOUS

Pentious goes to Husk for relationship advice, and so does Cherri. Husk gets ALLLLLL the drama.

Cherri likes sweet/sugary stuff but Pen doesn't- pen has made jokes like "I'll have to break up with you, it just won't work. we are enemies 😔"

Sense their eras are so far apart, they love to teach each other about their time

Pentious, due to growing up in thr 1800s, didn't get a great education. He is great with building and stuff, but he doesn't know how to write or read very well. Cherri teaches him, and writing is one of his favorite things now.

Pen fell first. That man was smitten from day one. It took cherri a good 4 decades to realize her feelings

Adelaide stuff starts here! (Little bit of info: they are pents kids who were angels and he reunited with them in heaven. Adelaide is 3. She has a brother named Arthur, but I won't be including hcs about him, because he is not my character! His creator is @/emositecc, go to their page of you wanna learn about him!)

Cherri loves Pents kids SO. MUCH. She loves being a mother figure to them

Cherri is closest with Adelaide but she loves them both so so much

Adelaide CAN talk, but she is preferably non-verbal! The only time Cherri has ever heard her talk was when she called her "mama" once (cherri cried)

They were both in Pent and Cherris wedding

I do hc requests!

#hazbin pentious #hazbin hotel pentious #hazbin hotel sir pentious #sir pentious #pentious #cherri bomb × sir pentious #hazbin sir pentious #sir pentious hazbin hotel #sir pentious x cherri bomb #hazbin hotel cherri bomb #cherri bomb hazbin hotel #cherri hazbin hotel #cherri bomb #cherrisnake #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel headcanon

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merbear25 · 4 months ago

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could i request humiliation with england 🙏🏻with a female reader :P and for like the humiliation part could it be based off of the reader being air headed and unaware? like basically shaming her for being kind of socially unaware and oblivious, thank you in advance :D~ requested by anon

Thank you for requesting this! It fits him so well, doesn't it?? Hope you like it! 💜🧡

As much as he adored you, there were moments that sparked his more sadistic side. Your gentle and oblivious nature was much too pure and innocent for his world, and yet there was the part of him that yearned to bring that to the bedroom and practically destroy it, especially after your continuous faux pas at that year’s white tie event.

CW: NSFW, MDNI, fem!reader, established relationship, humiliation kink, vaginal penetration, facial, aftercare

Your biting blush (England)

Butterflies never failed to swarm the pits of your stomach no matter how many times you attended these events with him. The social hoops you jumped through just to end the night on a decent note was exhausting. Arthur always prompted you on who would be there and even went as far as to quiz you because you both knew that you were a deer in headlights otherwise.

This night, however, put you through the ringer. Meeting many new faces, trying to remember who was who, and keeping yourself cordial: you were bound to slip up. Confusing detail after detail disrupted many conversations, due to your own social fumbles. The amount of apologies you felt like you owed them only made matters more sweat inducing.

He offered some comfort whenever he placed his hand on your back and took the reins of the conversation—quite the charmer when he wanted to be. The circular motions of his thumb on the small of your back was a hint you could never miss.

The sparkling champagne and toasts from those leading the event couldn’t encourage Arthur’s eyes to waver from you. Your sideways glances met his cocky smile, which earned him the sight of your embarrassment nipping at you.

Formal goodbyes flooded the halls, signaling that what laid in store for you was right around the corner. The ride home was stifling with tension. Your hands fidgeted in your lap throughout the entirety of it, your mind flooding with what was awaiting you behind closed doors.

While you sat on the couch, your eyes followed him. He hung up his overcoat and loosened his tie, keeping silent to let the anticipation build.The exasperated sigh was exaggerated in hopes of getting a bit more of a stir out of you.

“What I’m I supposed to do with you?” Despite his words having a bite to them, his expression was washed with desire.

You looked down at your hands, a bit of shame overcoming you because you were sure that you’d made him look bad. However, the wanton look he was giving you told you everything you needed to know—the intent was to lure out both of your wildest fantasies.

“A lack of any understanding of the world around you.” He lightly shook his head. “What a disappointment you were tonight.” As he undid his belt, the intensity in his eyes made your mouth water.

“Take that blasted dress off already,” he commanded.

You did as you were told, exposing yourself to the blonde who had a lustful glint in his eyes. He was unable to hold back the urgency rising within him. Seeing what was concealed under your dress for the entirety of the event.

Your delicate hands gripped at the side of the sofa and your smooth legs instinctively rubbed together, seeking out any hint of friction. Watching your eyes roam over his body hungrily never ceased to inflate his ego.

“What’s wrong, my pet? Can’t wait to get your fix? Such a pathetic excuse for a partner of a world power.” That same smug smile tugged at his lips as he rubbed his length. Soft huffs passed his lips as your impatience led to you rutting your dripping core against the furniture.

Words that were venomous to an outsider caused your slit to twitch without fail. The rise and fall of your chest as you watched him pleasure himself made his jaw slack. Your desperate state growing more and more impatient wore down every remaining ounce of self-control he was clinging to.

“Lean back.” The instruction was soaked in the rising need to chase his own high.

Lifting your legs, the mess you’d made coaxed a primal groan out of him. “Please, help me correct my bad behavior.”

He took your thighs in an almost bruising grip. Your sweet plea for his ‘help’ sent shivers down his spine. “Oh, I’ll help you. Don’t you worry your pretty little head.”

Pinning your knees to your sides rendered you helpless. Completely and utterly at the mercy of his guidance.

When he pressed his reddened tip between your aching walls, the lewd gasps passing your quivering lips filled the air between you. Firm and sudden: his length bullied its way as deep as your pussy would allow.

Your blissful whimpers fueled his motions, leaving little room between your dampening bodies. The slaps of your hips colliding, your heavenly mewls, and the slick warmth of you wrapping around him: you were going to be the death of him.

“Greedy little thing,” he panted with shaky breaths at how your body clung to him, refusing to let go until he satisfied you.

His fingers dug into your soft thighs as the sensation of him rapturing your body sent him spiraling into his own peeking ecstasy. In a choked cry, he quickly pulled out. The streams of cum coated your still throbbing cunt, his seed trickling down your pulsating lips.

Shared haze of your lingering high—a feeling neither of you could ever tire of. Gazing down at the mess you two made, the slightly painful grasp loosened and turned more into a soothing caress.

“You’re a beauty to behold,’ he breathed. Offering you his hand, he eased you up off of the sofa. A tender kiss found its way to the side of your face, while he held you closely.

You tilted your head to welcome his adoration lavishing your sensitive neck. A mouth that could spit such heinous phrases was just as skilled at soothing any chance of a lingering sting. The whirlwinds now settling, your soft lips lazily trailed affection over each other’s tingling skin.

#kinktober 2024 #x reader #hetalia #hetalia axis powers #hetalia world stars #hetalia world series #hetalia england #hws #hetalia imagines #hetalia smut #aph england #aph headcanons #aph hetalia

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alphashley14 · 6 months ago

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One of Us

A Scooby Doo: Mystery Incorporated/Mystery Skulls Crossover

<Prev

Chapter 26

Erase Me

There was something good about the Mystery Machine. It was filled with a sort of warmth that never really went away. And almost always, it was filled with sound. Plotting, theorizing, and swapping stories and information while on a mystery. Or in mundane moments, there would be idle chatter, laughter, music or voices drifting from the radio, tapping from Velma’s computer as she typed away, or Shaggy and Scooby munching away in the back seat. And even when the Mystery Machine did fall silent, there was a sort of lightness to be found there; when five friends could find comfort in a familiar place with nothing more than one another’s presence.

It was never a good thing when the Mystery Machine was the other kind of quiet.

This kind of quiet.

The sort of heavy silence when there was an elephant in the room. So many words that needed said - would inevitably be said, but weren’t ready to come out. And yet the five of them were so stuck in their own thoughts that it didn’t seem very quiet at all. But to the sixth occupant of the van, the silence was suffocating.

Before the drive, before the quiet, back at Daisy’s when she and Steven had finally walked back into the living room, the five Mystery Solvers had barely moved and none of them had spoken. Daisy, mascara slightly smudged, had stood in front of her sister and said, “Daphne.”

But Daphne didn’t look at her.

“Daphne,” Daisy said again. And this time she actually knelt down. Daisy Blake, who had never once stepped down to meet her little sister in the middle, knelt down to look her in the eyes. This time, Daphne looked up.

“Steven and I talked about it and… we’ll do it.”

The next few hours passed in a blur. They called the Mystery Skulls back inside and Vivi and Lewis did most of the talking. Logistics. Timing. Whens, wheres, and hows. Plans and backup plans. Numbers were exchanged for if and when those plans changed and so the nitty-gritty details could be hammered out later, and then they were leaving.

Daisy led them out herself, Steven beside her, but as Mystery Incorporated was heading down her front steps Daisy said, “Daphne?” And when her sister turned around, Daisy looked like she didn’t know what to say. Or perhaps like she wanted to say more than what came out. “Just- like… be careful. M’kay?”

“I- uh… okay Daisy. You too.” Daphne stammered, bewildered.

Then they were at the Mystery Machine, and Fred was fumbling with the keys when Lewis gently placed his hand over them. “Fred,” he said, “I’ll drive.”

“Huh? What do you mean you’ll drive? C’mon Lewis, that’s ridiculous,” Fred tried to laugh it off, but he wasn’t fooling anyone.

“Dude,” Lewis said, gently yet firmly, “you guys have been twitchy since… look, you can barely get the car started with how bad your hands are shaking. You are in no state to drive. Please, Fred. Let me.”

And as much as Fred loved the Mystery Machine, he didn’t fight Lewis on it any further. But once they were actually in the van, heading back to the mansion behind Vivi and Mystery in the other vehicle, the quiet set in.

The sort of tense silence that had Lewis very, very worried. What had they seen? Because whatever Mr. E had been facing then, it was what Arthur was facing now!

And Mystery Incorporated knew that. Really, they did. And they were thinking about it. But their thoughts were also elsewhere, elsewhere, and all over the place.

Yet individually, they stood united under one question: How could you?

Mr. E was the one person who believed in Professor Pericles more than anything. The one who gave him another chance, even after everything. His best friend. And he’d-

But that train of thought just made them replay what they’d seen all over again. And that was one thing Shaggy absolutely did not want to do. Just thinking about it made his skin crawl.

He kept having to remind himself that Ricky wasn’t there anymore. He was safe and sound in Shaggy’s body back at the Mystery Skulls’ mansion. And Shaggy was safe and sound in Arthur’s body - but where did that leave Arthur?

It isn’t fair, he thought to himself. It wasn’t fair that Arthur was fighting a battle that wasn’t his own. The way Mr. E had screamed in that video… Arthur had already endured what Ricky had at least once. Had he screamed that way too? Was he screaming now? He shouldn’t be, and it wasn’t fair! But if Shaggy wished Arthur to be safe and sound back where he belonged, then where would that leave Ricky? And Shaggy-

Once his train of thought went down that road, Shaggy shrank in on himself and felt dirty. He wasn’t a stranger to being afraid. Or running away, or wanting to quit. But this time? That kind of thinking made Shaggy feel like a rotten, selfish, ungrateful coward. Because if they could swap bodies one more time and Shaggy had the chance to take their place, he knew he wouldn’t have the strength to do it. And for a moment, he wasn’t sad for Ricky or worried about Arthur. He was just glad that it wasn’t him.

Feeling awful about himself, Shaggy looked up and his eyes wandered to each face in the Mystery Machine. Scooby was laying at Shaggy’s feet, ears drooped. He looked oddly guilty, or as though he was going to be sick. Velma, sitting next to Shaggy, had alternated between looking completely blank or on the verge of tears ever since they’d seen the footage. And from what he could see in the front seats, Daphne was looking out the window and Fred was staring straight ahead. So while he could not see their expressions, he could see the glances Lewis kept giving them; And his face told Shaggy everything he needed to know.

With a sigh, Shaggy looked down at Arthur’s prosthetic arm, flexing the metal fingers thoughtfully. Now wasn’t the time to be feeling bad about what a shitty person he was (which of course only served to make him feel even worse) for one simple and obvious reason: it wasn’t about him. It was about Ricky. Ricky, who had been carrying all of this around from the beginning. Ricky, who had trusted them with one of the most horrible things to ever happen to him, and was probably waiting back at the mansion right now worrying over what their reaction was going to be. Ricky, who was somehow brave enough and strong enough to face what Shaggy knew he couldn’t.

Mr. E.

Who didn’t really have anybody else.

So the five of them would have to do.

༻˚⁺･⚉｡○✼༓☾⦾♫෴♡💛♡෴♫⦾☽༓✼○｡⚉･⁺˚༺

When they arrived at the manor, they found Ricky and Angel in the library.

Not that they were exactly difficult to find. The Dead Beats were diligently patrolling the hallway outside and their voices were drifting down the corridor from the open door.

“-So the first and really only culture to write about the Annunaki and the Nibiru event were the ancient Mesopotamians,” Ricky was explaining. “But there’s evidence of their presence among other cultures under different names. Which obviously there must be at least some truth to because Mystery’s Annunaki ancestors spent time in Japan, and according to our research the evil entity behind the curse, which is an Annunaki, was defeated and imprisoned in Ancient Egypt- oh!”

Ricky stopped mid-sentence and looked up when Mystery Incorporated stepped into the doorway. He and Cassidy had some of the notes the two groups had made yesterday spread out on the floor and the two of them had been laying on their stomachs side-by-side reviewing them. But the moment he saw their faces he sat up and his stomach dropped.

They’d seen it.

Daphne’s eyes were red and puffy, Fred could barely look at him at all, there was no mistaking the pity on Shaggy and Scooby’s faces, and Velma’s eyes were fixed on the floor.

I knew it.

They’d never go back to the way they’d been this morning. All the progress they’d made, and for what? How little they must think of him now. They must be so disgusted…

Ricky could see the Mystery Skulls coming up behind the kids, and even though they hadn’t seen the footage, it was plain on their faces that they were worried. It was also clear even to poor Cassidy, who didn’t fully know what was going on, that something was up. Right as she was sitting up, looking between them, Ricky nervously cleared his throat and stood up abruptly.

“So!” He said, as if ignoring the elephant in the room would somehow make it go away. “How did it go?” Ricky rubbed his hands together and started picking up the notes and books that they were done with, busying himself with stacking them and setting them on tables to quell his nervous energy. “I uh- heard from Lewis that you went to see Professor Hatecraft. I know he’s your friend. Must’ve uh- been nice to see him again. And you’ll have to tell me how it went with Daisy. I know Daphne wasn’t looking forward to it, but I really do apprecia- oof.”

Right as Ricky was setting the first stack on the table, Velma suddenly marched forward, grabbed him by the shirt, turned him around, and hugged him tight around the middle.

Ricky was so shocked by the gesture, much less from Velma, whom he’d wronged more than any of them, that for a stunned second he froze. Eyes wide, arms awkwardly held above her like he didn’t know what to do with them. Did he hug her back? Was he allowed?

“Uhm… Velma…?”

Then finally she whispered, “I’m so sorry…”

Her bottom lip trembled, her shoulders tensed, the tiniest little whimper slipped out, and then she was crying.

“Velma…” Feeling extremely awkward about it, Ricky brought his arms down, rubbing her back and gently patting her hair. And when she didn’t pull away he hugged her back. Then the rest of her friends were around him too - and Ricky didn’t have enough arms for them all. Shaggy’s head on his left shoulder, Daphne’s on his right, Scooby against his hip, and Fred’s cheek leaning on the crown of his head.

They’d never go back to the way they were this morning. And slowly, it dawned on Ricky that it wasn’t because they’d gone backwards.

But any warmth that realization inspired was replaced by a cold dread. Because he could feel Cassidy’s eyes boring into his back and he was fresh out of excuses.

Swallowing nervously, Ricky gently backed Velma off of him, and the other four took the cue to let go as well. “Aw, thanks guys. There there, Velma. It’s alright-”

“No. It’s not,” she said. And now she sounded angry. “I-” she sniffed and dabbed her eyes under her glasses with the thick fabric at her turtleneck. “I cannot believe they did that to you!”

“Reah!” Scooby agreed with a growl.

“Like yeah. Friends like- friends don’t treat friends like that, man!” Shaggy exclaimed.

“Oh It went far beyond treating someone bad!” Velma said, so loudly it bordered on yelling. “It- it was assault! That’s what it was! I just- I can’t believe he- Oh god… Ricky, I- dammit, I know I already said it but I’m so sorry!”

“She’s right,” Fred said. “What they did was- beyond anything I could ever imagine doing to one of my enemies, much less one of my friends. And I can’t believe my real parents-”

“Fred,” Ricky said, his brows coming together, “I don’t blame you. What they did- it wasn’t your fault.”

“Yeah. I know that,” Fred said, sounding every bit like someone who didn’t completely believe it. “But that doesn’t make it any less true.”

“And the way they talked to you!” Velma scoffed.

“No kidding! If Pericles has got one thing going for him, it’s the audacity,” Daphne quipped, hands on her hips.

“Reah! Rit’s not like you asked for anything unreasonable!” Scooby added.

“Like yeah! He totally didn’t!” Shaggy agreed.

“He asked for the bare minimum really,” Daphne said.

“So- Are you okay, Ricky?” Fred asked.

By now, Ricky’s head was ducked as far between his shoulders as it could, and he was positively red in the face with a mix of embarrassment and flattery… and a smile he couldn’t wipe off his face no matter what other emotions were clambering over each other for attention. Everything they were saying- even after seeing it. Even after presumably knowing everything. They weren’t disgusted or treating him like he was made of glass. And in spite of all the words of comfort and wisdom he’d gotten up until now, he’d never felt so validated before.

But of course he couldn’t say all of that without embarrassing himself further. So all he said was, “M’ good. I’m- better than I thought I’d be, actually.” And he laughed when he said it, in spite of himself. “So uh- what exactly did you see? I mean I was under the impression that there was… a lot on that flashdrive. I mean did you watch all of it?”

“Not even close,” Fred said. “We started at what I can only assume is the first time he hit you. And we got to the first time he- did it. Before we uh… sorry. We couldn’t bear to watch any more than that.”

“Couldn’t bear. To watch any more. Of what?”

All six of them froze and had the same thought at once: Shit.

They slowly turned around, and there she was. Brows furrowed, mouth set in a firm line, arms crossed, weight balanced on one hip. Looking positively murderous. Without daring to look away, feeling very much like they were facing a rabid animal, Fred gulped. “You didn’t tell her, did you?” He asked out of the corner of his mouth.

“Most of it, but then couldn’t get the important part out,” Ricky grumbled back. Also out of the corner of his mouth.

“Want us to help you out?”

“No Fred, I’m afraid this is something I have to do myself. But thank you.”

Also not looking away from Cassidy, like she’d jump out and bite somebody at any moment, Velma pulled her laptop out of her bag, stuck the flashdrive in it, and passed it into Ricky’s arms. “All yours, E.”

“Hoh-boy. Like, we believe in you man.” Shaggy laughed nervously.

“Rud ruck,” Scooby said.

“Ranks. I’m gonna need it,” Ricky gulped. And then they were backing away. Not leaving, but lurking just beyond the doorway to give them the space they needed (yet close enough to witness the drama unfold). The Mystery Skulls meanwhile, still respecting Ricky’s wishes and privacy, had made themselves scarce.

Ricky was glad the kids were sticking around, because if they left he would’ve been alone with quite possibly the scariest thing in the entire manor. Had she really been contently laying beside him while they talked just a few short minutes ago? Because now, it was as if the energy of the room itself had shifted.

“What happened to you?” She pleaded. Her voice wasn’t as hard as it had been a moment ago but there was a crack to it already, and she hadn’t even seen it yet. “Ricky. Baby. Please. Talk to me.”

He took a deep breath and nodded. He set the laptop down on a desk between them and opened it right to where the kids had left off. With the screen paused on a scene he remembered all too well. His hands were shaking when he slid the timestamp back to the beginning. Then he looked up at her, still staring expectantly over the top of the screen. And he knew this whole day, waiting for bad news must’ve been torture for her. His mouth was dry and his heart was pounding in his ears. But he remembered the kids. He remembered how seeing it, knowing what had happened to him, hadn’t ruined anything between them.

He hoped the same would be true with Cassidy.

And he told her - he must have. But if anyone asked him what he said, he couldn’t tell you. Even as the words came, it was as if he blocked them out.

But not the look on her face. First anticipation. Then unease. And finally horror. And once he ran out of words and couldn’t bear to see her look at him that way anymore, he turned the laptop around and hit play.

“He’s late,” he heard his own voice, his real voice, say.

Then came Judy’s. “You know he shows up when he means to. I’m sure he’ll be here soon, don’t you think Brad?”

He couldn’t look at her as she watched the scene unfold. Try as he might to tune it out, those voices- that scene started playing in his head and the feelings started coming back in real time, as if he was back in the shoes of his past self all over again. Anxiety. Hope. Pride. Power. Then frustration. Anger. And as the video neared the inevitable tragedy, the feelings of his present self, knowing what was coming, seeped in.

Fear. Fear that grew and swelled into abject terror.

“-If you won’t listen to me,” his true voice said, and his mouth silently traced the words, having played this memory over in his head a hundred times before. Searching for some way it could have ended differently. “-Then you haven’t left me with much choice: Get out…”

Ricky turned around and all but stumbled out of the room. Wanting- needing to get away. He knew how this story ended, but he didn’t want to live it again. The kids made some move to stop him. But he played little heed to their voices and jerked away from the kind hands that reached for his shoulders.

The sounds of his own screams chased him down the hallway as Ricky blindly fled his own memory.

༻˚⁺･⚉｡○✼༓☾⦾♫෴♡💛♡෴♫⦾☽༓✼○｡⚉･⁺˚༺

Cassidy didn’t know what she’d been expecting.

But it wasn’t this.

A torture button? Using what- mutated cobra llarvae?

Who on God’s Green Earth other than Professor Pericles even thinks of that?

After spending time with Ricky in someone else’s body for the past few hours, it was sort of jarring seeing him in his own skin again. Even in a video. But when Ricky of two weeks ago (according to the timestamp) started telling Pericles off, Cassidy sat back, looked up at Ricky, and laughed, impressed.

The far-off look in his eyes and the tremble in his shoulders stole the smile from her face. She looked back at the screen.

At some point, she became aware that he left. And she would have gone after him, but tunnel vision locked her legs in place and her eyes on the screen.

When Pericles pushed that button, when Ricky went rigid, then dropped to his knees, it hit Cassidy right in the heart. Then came the screaming. The begging. The pleading. And she froze.

She had never heard Ricky scream like that. And she never wanted to hear it again.

And Brad and Judy were smirking at one another. Like a pair of naughty children who’d gotten a third into trouble.

And Pericles was laughing.

“I had wondered what sounds you would make,” the parrot sighed, chuckling to himself. “And of course, my sweet Ricky, you did not disappoint me.”

A cold fury seeped into Cassidy’s veins like venom. She had already hated Professor Pericles for far longer than the time she’d once considered him a friend. But at that moment, listening to him laugh and gloat over the sound of Ricky screaming- Angel Dynamite thought to herself for the very first time, I’m going to kill you.

Pericles had finally stopped, but Ricky was still quietly sobbing, his body shaking with the aftershocks when Cassidy stopped the video, unable to watch any more.

There was a painful lump at the back of her throat that Cassidy couldn’t afford to let out. Her hands steepled against her lips, her elbows on her knees, and she closed her eyes and took deep breaths. She wanted to scream. Throw things. March out of this manor right now and put a damn bullet through that bird’s skull. But the kids were still lurking just outside - watching. And Arthur was in there- oh God, Arthur was in there! And above all, Ricky needed her.

Ricky. She opened her eyes. And what did she see? With the video closed, she was faced with a long, long list of files. And it hit her, really hit her, that what she’d seen was only the tip of the iceberg. “Oh sweetheart…” She muttered.

Then one of the file names jumped out at her: “CASSIDY 🗣️🔴”

… What was her name doing there?

For a moment, she was torn. She didn’t want to see any more of Ricky’s suffering. She wanted- needed to go after him. To see him, comfort him, hold him. Reassure herself that even if not in his own skin, she had him.

But that file. It was as if it was calling her. Cassidy. Cassidy!

She had to know.

Cassidy opened the file and hit play.

Ricky was sitting alone in front of his monitors. With the glare, she couldn’t see what he was doing, but he was anxiously bouncing one leg. Brad and Judy appeared on the island behind him and he flinched, but said nothing, trying to ignore them.

“You’ve been on the computer more and more.”

“He sure has, Brad! You’re not allowed on the internet, so what do you do in here for hours on end?”

“There’s been no sign of her for weeks!” Ricky finally said.

“Who are you looking for?”

“Cassidy.” And the way he said it- even while trying to mask it, he sounded so worried. Earlier today came to mind. The look of shock, hope, anguish on his face when he’d seen her standing alive and well at the bottom of the staircase.

“Maybe she finally gave up,” Brad suggested smugly.

“No! She would never give up! She’s gone!”

Again, this morning came to mind. Ricky, screaming those very words at the top of the stairs.

“Of course she’s gone,” Professor Pericles said, appearing onscreen. “Anyone who crosses me gets… eliminated.”

If Cassidy had found the first video hard to watch, seeing Ricky’s heart shatter into a million pieces right in front of her was somehow worse. Again, she remembered this morning. The way he’d hugged her like his life depended on it-

“You were informed she had been taken care of,” Pericles said dismissively. The Ricky on the screen was hyperventilating. Falling to his knees beneath the weight of his grief. His guilt.

She remembered Ricky sobbing into her shoulder, hardly able to get a word out between sobs. ‘I never stopped looking for you and then he told me- he-’

“Would you like to know how she died?” Pericles asked, as if he enjoyed the pain he caused. “If it is any consolation, my sweet Ricky, she likely did not suffer.” Cassidy stood up. She’d seen enough. But as she stepped around the computer she could still hear the audio. “-They say that drowning is one of the most peaceful ways to die. If the explosion didn’t kill her instantly.”

Then she heard two words come out of Ricky’s mouth in such a frigid tone of voice it stopped her in her tracks. “Fuck you.”

“What?” Pericles said. And he sounded just as surprised as Cassidy. She slowly turned around. She never would have expected Ricky to talk to Pericles that way. But then-

“FUCK YOU! You bastard! You were always jealous of her! All because you wanted me all to yourself, you just couldn’t let me have anyone else that I loved! And look at what you’ve done to us! Brad and Judy threw away their own son like garbage for that stupid treasure! Anyone with eyes can see what I’ve become! Cassidy was the only one of us who was strong enough to stay good in spite of that stupid curse - in spite of you! And YOU KILLED HER!”

Then Pericles must have pulled out the button again. Because Ricky made that same horrible choked, strangled sound from the other video. Screaming on the inside, but unable to muster the breath to let it out.

Cassidy slammed the laptop shut with a snap, unable to bear a second more.

There was a beat- maybe two, of stunned silence. Then the music began.

Dramatic violins overlaid with static - all too fitting for the tightness in her chest, the burning in her throat, and the wetness on her cheeks. Right as the deep thrum of the cellos and clarinets joined the orchestra, Cassidy took a deep breath, turned around, and walked out of the library with as much grace as she could. She barely glanced at Mystery Incorporated when she passed them. A few of them were crying, and a few of them had their hands clamped over their ears. The crash of the cymbals all too fitting for what they were feeling. Angel herself was holding her own emotions back by a thread and knew that if she stuck around a second longer, she was going to lose it right in front of them.

She strode up to the nearest Dead Beat. And right as the striking beats were ending and the gentle thrum of the piano began, Cassidy looked up at it with angry, bloodshot eyes and asked it point blank, “Where is he?”

The sad little ghost knew without being told who she was asking about. It pointed a nubby arm and went zipping down the corridor. Cassidy walked after it at first.

So right now I can feel it, feel it overtaking me

Then she couldn’t stand it and walked faster.

So right now, ooooh I can feel it overtaking me.

Then the moment she turned a corner and the kids couldn’t see her anymore, she was running. And when it sped up, she sprinted after it.

'Cause there's, 'cause there's no one in this world that could treat me like 'Cause there's no one in this world that could take me back 'Cause there's no one in this world that could make it fit 'Cause there's no one in this world

Turn after turn, paintings, doors, and suits of armor flew by. Cassidy’s boots colliding with the carpeted hardwood floors echoed through the corridors. Where is he? Where is he?

Erase me Erase my mind again. Erase meeee~, ooooh~ Erase my mind again, love

When the Dead Beat led her into the foyer and went zipping up the stairs, Cassidy dashed after it. Where is he? Where is he?

Erase me Erase my mind again

Cassidy ran after the Dead Beat for what felt like an eternity, but really wasn’t very long at all. They found Ricky on the second floor, having been trying to retreat to the relative safety of his room before his own emotions got the better of him. He was kneeling on the floor leaning against the wall between two suits of armor, clearly facing the tail-end of a breakdown, his hands fisting his hair. She stopped when she saw him, breathless, shoulders sagging with relief. And then she was striding towards him.

Erase me, oh

He turned around when he heard her coming. Red-faced and puffy-eyed he croaked, “Cassidy I-”

Erase my mind again, love!

He was cut off just as the song came to an end, when she dropped to the floor at his side and flung her arms around him. He stiffened, surprised, but a moment later she felt him relax. Only then did Cassidy lean back and, gently yet firmly, she dragged his upper body into her lap and pressed her nose into his soft caramel colored hair. He stretched his legs and curled them in on the floor to get comfortable, and his arms came, gentle yet firm, around her waist.

And she held him; So tight it probably wasn’t comfortable but he didn’t complain - just held her back. Leaning into it with a sigh when her fingers carded through his hair, then stayed there. Ricky had always loved having his hair touched.

Cassidy’s shoulders shook. Her vision blurred. That lump in the back of her throat finally slipped out. And then for the first time in what seemed like forever, she was sobbing.

He muttered her name, muffled with his face pressed into her chest, “Cassidy,” and his arms tightened around her. “M’ sorry…”

“Don’t you-” she sniffed, “dare apologize- hic! It’s just- I… oh Sweetheart… Baby. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry…”

“Yeah,” he said. “I know.”

They laid there together for what seemed like the longest time. There was something unmistakably intimate about their position, and yet in spite of everything that had happened between them none of it seemed to matter.

It did matter. That much should not be mistaken. And they would hopefully work through it. Or they wouldn’t. But that didn’t seem to matter much for the moment either.

All that mattered was that, at least for the moment, he was safe. And he was with her.

-Except he wasn’t.

Because no matter how much she kept telling herself that this was Ricky, and that was enough, her heart still longed for the rest of him. All of him. Complete and whole. In his own skin. As he should be. She missed his face. His voice. His dark brown eyes, even with the bags under them. His beard and thick, silky dark hair. She’d never gotten the chance to touch it, in the five years since she’d gotten to see him again. She remembered being surprised to see it so long, and had caught herself wondering how it would feel beneath her fingers. Or how the rest of him had changed for that matter. How would it feel to lean against him? Or to have his arms around her? Did he still have that scattered peppering of freckles across his back and shoulders? And how much could those constellations have shifted?

It scared her to think of Ricky, even part of him, still in the clutches of someone who only wanted to hurt him. And it horrified her to know that Arthur was in his place. Oh God, Arthur! He was such a sweet guy- a good person. He was the grounding member of the Mystery Skulls, who’d been the best at easing her into… all of it. And he’d never been anything but kind to her. Even going as far as to let her stay in his room while she stayed in Tempo recuperating with his uncle. And now he was in that Hell too. And now? If he really did get himself- get Ricky out of this mess, she didn’t know how she’d ever repay him.

Pericles came to mind again. Looking so proud of himself for what he’d done to the one person who’d stuck by his side the longest. And she didn’t even want to imagine him doing to Arthur what he’d done to Ricky. Anger set her heart ablaze and that thought came again, with even more conviction than the first time: I’m going to kill you.

Suddenly the walls began to scream. Cassidy and Ricky both jumped and scrambled out of their embrace, searching for the source but there was none! The sound was all-encompassing, as if it was coming from everywhere! But then they realized-

Cassidy’s blood ran cold. She knew that scream. And when she looked over at Ricky, she knew he recognized it too.

Because it sounded like him. The real him. Shouting in agony, and begging for it to stop.

In an instant, Cassidy was on her feet and dragging Ricky to his as well. “Come on Ricky!” She said to him, but he was having a freeze response. Staring straight ahead, straight through her. “Ricky! Ricky, look at me!” Cassidy shouted above the din, shaking him slightly, and finally his eyes focused on her face. “We have to find the Mystery Skulls! Come on!” And then she was dragging him down the hall with her as fast as she could. Within a few moments, he was snapped out of it and running after her.

༻˚⁺･⚉｡○✼༓☾⦾♫෴♡💔♡෴♫⦾☽༓✼○｡⚉･⁺˚༺

The paintings they passed along the way were either laughing or cowering in the corners of their frames. And as they ran the screaming got louder, and then the music began.

Erase me, just like before. But the house had never played the same song twice in a row, and this time the music was different. Corrupted. Jagged, almost. Like playing a scratched CD. Around the time the cursed cellos started, the walls began to shake.

When they ran into a swarm of Dead Beats, it became even clearer that something was very wrong. They were ignored when they tried to get the ghosts’ attention and hissed at when they tried to reach out. They were glowing more brightly than they’d ever seen them before and they were shrieking, pulsing, swelling and shrinking in size as they howled and scrambled along the walls like lizards, leaving claw marks in their wake. And they were all heading in the same direction. And as terrifying as it was, they followed.

They arrived right when the piano made its entrance in the song, at the same time as Mystery Incorporated, who had followed the Dead Beats from elsewhere. And they found the Mystery Skulls in what was- should have been an art gallery. The Dead Beats were swirling around the walls in that same panicked frenzy, not knowing where to go or what to do and in the middle of it were Mystery, Vivi, and Lewis. Huddled together staring at the paintings in utter horror.

Ricky, the fastest of them with Shaggy’s body, got there first. “Mystery! Vivi!” He shouted at them above the cacophony. “What’s-” Then he saw what they were looking at, and he let out a gasp of absolute mortification.

S̷o̷ ̷r̷i̷g̸h̴t̸ ̵n̵o̸w̷

He was in every picture frame. Convulsing on the floor in agony back at Destroido. It was as if the contents of the flashdrive had been hung up on every frame! Except- wait.

I don’t recognize that scene. I never would’ve gone anywhere without my coat. And why do I have a bottle of wine - oh dear God.

S̵o̵ ̵r̷i̵g̷h̴t̶ ̵n̷o̶w̸,̵ ̸o̴o̷o̴o̴h̵ ̶ ̷I̶ ̷c̶a̴n̸ ̵f̸e̶e̷l̷ ̵i̴t̵ ̵o̶v̷e̸r̸t̷a̸k̷i̷n̶g̸ ̵m̶e̸.̶

THAT’S ARTHUR!

At once he rushed to their side, dodging Dead Beats as they flew by his head. “Guys! It’s okay! Everything’s gonna be alright! Don’t look at that! Look at me!” Ricky shouted above the din.

C̶̮̓a̷͓͐u̶̗̚s̸̥̕e̴͈̊ ̷̞̕t̶̰̒h̷͖̿é̴͓r̴̘̊e̶̘͌'̷͈̽s̴̜̔ ̷̣̉n̴͈͑ó̵͖ ̸̞̓ŏ̸̹n̶̥̓é̴̯ ̷̍ͅȋ̵͔n̷͖̂ ̷̝͝t̸̮̕h̴̳͂ȉ̸̧š̸̤ ̴̫̋w̷̞̚ọ̷̅r̸̤͝ḽ̶̀d̶̪̉ ̶̦̿t̸̺̿h̵̯̉a̷͎͒t̷͊ͅ ̸̞̈́c̵̥̽o̶̯̚u̸͈͒l̴̟͊d̷̼̆ ̷̗̿t̷̙̒r̷̗̒e̶̯̅à̴̼t̵̙́ ̵̗̈m̸͚̐ē̸͉ ̸̟̍l̶̖͝i̴̻̎k̷̬͠e̵̟̓

When the others saw what he was doing they rushed to join in. “Come on, Mystery! Snap out of it! Do something!” Ricky shouted. But the kitsune was so big and utterly frozen with horror that no amount of shaking or shoving against the creature, even with Fred and Scooby helping, could rouse him.

C̶̨͎͆͒a̷͇̖̽̒u̷̘̲̚ś̷͓ȩ̴̋̎ ̵̹̀̃t̶̢̹̿́h̴̔͜e̷̬̐̀r̶̲̙̔̾ȅ̵̖́'̸̘͕̌s̴̖̩̄ ̷̻̗̋n̸̬̾͝ô̷͈͜͝ ̵̖͈̅̕ō̴̗ņ̴̇̏ẽ̵͖̟ ̴͖͑͐į̴̒̒n̸͙̊ ̸͙͈̅̊ẗ̸́��̖ḩ̶̎͘í̸̲̜s̷̛̤ ̸̥͑̕w̴͓̄͝ơ̷̩r̵̟̅l̴̝͘̕d̸̠̐ ̵̣̦̚t̴̠̔h̷̞͛͜ả̸̳̖͝t̴̚͜ ̷̹̫͆̚c̶͉̈o̴̧͔͆͒ṵ̵̳̃l̶̪̘̀͝d̷̦̃͐ ̸̻͛t̷̼́ạ̸̡̾͘k̶̮̈e̶̲̜̋͐ ̷͚̉m̶͓̔́e̸͖̳͌̄ ̴̪̍b̴̞̗̀a̸̧͇͂̑c̴͕̆͒k̷̠͍̇͠

Desperate, Ricky looked over at Vivi but she was absolutely inconsolable. Cassidy, Velma, and Daphne were shaking her, blocking her view of the moving pictures with their bodies, to no avail. She was hugging herself, trembling, looking straight ahead with loud, ugly, gasping sobs bursting out of her.

C̵̳̫̪̍̕̕ä̵̞̲̚ų̸̂͋ͅș̶̡̘̔̌ę̴̺͊͂ͅ ̴̡͚͕̋̄t̵̺̹̯́h̸̡̺̐̍̀e̴̥͊͆r̴͈̽̐͜ë̵̹̭́'̷̛̗̖̱s̷͙̖̒ ̵̜̳̥̂̕n̵̰̣͒͠ö̷̜̣͑̔ ̸̥̮͆̏͝ȭ̷̬̦̠n̷̺̰̟͗̏e̷͉͂ͅͅ ̴̨̯̜̓͑͝i̵̳̟͐̕n̶̖̈͋ ̸̞̏́t̵̝͑ḩ̵̬͔͗̀ì̵͍͕͗s̴͈͕̑ ̸̛̤̪̄̇w̵͎̺̚o̸̼̰̊̌̕r̶͓̳̂̃͆ĺ̵͖d̸̲̮̬͗̍̽ ̵͈̿̇̀t̴̟̱̥̅͌h̵̫̞̰͗̇a̴͍͒ṱ̴̋͊ ̵̞͎̪̑̎̓ċ̷͈̖͍̋̀o̷͇͇̖͗̽͠ư̶̙͓̐͐ͅl̷̢̦͋̕͘ͅď̸̹̜̦͝ ̵͍͈̉̌̈m̶̮̏a̵̛̜͉̔̇k̶͍̳͉͒̊e̷̻̠͔̊̂̒ ̵̧̮̫̉ì̷̤̰̈́̍ț̵́ ̸͉͝f̷̛̜̰̦i̷͍͍̒͊t̴͚͎̃͌͝

And that left Lewis. The Master of the House was in his ghostly form, staring wide-eyed at his friend in pain with ugly black tears, like ink, dripping from his eye sockets.

C̴̛̰͈̲̻̽͆͆ą̶̛̠̘̘͉̭́̔̀̀ų̸̮͍͎͉̋́̌͘ͅs̵͙̒͐̐̒̏e̴̢̼̯̰̔̓̓ ̸̡̡̗̦̐ͅṯ̷̨͍̹͇͆͐͘̕h̶̤̋̃̈́̊e̶̲̫͖̒̚̚r̴̨͔̤̩͓̦̂̿̽͌ḙ̶͙̜́͑̀̐̿̓͜'̸̪̳͗̐͑̚s̴̜̫̾̐͘̕͝ ̶̧̈́̑͌͝n̶̛̖͔o̵̧͉̗̮̞̱̓̋̅͌͛̕ ̸͔̊͑̓̚͘͜o̵̬͙̦̎͝n̸̬̲͍̝̄̒͛͒͘é̴̬̹͔͉̗̝̌͛̿͌̎ ̵̨͍͎̞̈́̍̋̃ḭ̸̃̓n̶̡͙̬͈̞̼̈́ ̶̠̩̩̭̟́́̇ẗ̶̢̘̫̬̝̲́h̸̲̙̭̮̙͂̈́ì̵̫̩̲͇̟́s̴̨̒̀̾͂͘ ̸͉́̀̀͗̍̽ẃ̷̤̘ǫ̵̛̪͈̹̤̏̎̚r̶̗͈̦̞̃͘͝ĺ̵̝d̸͕̋

“Lewis! Like come on man!” Shaggy was shouting.

Ë̶̢̦̪̺͍̥͉́̓r̸̜̫̮̝̟̲̓͐̏̚a̷̡̫̗̬͕̱̹̎͝s̵̢̙͙̦͂̓̃̌e̸̯̰͈͙͓͆̐̍͆̽̎̿ ̵̢̞̩͓̑͋̔̕̚m̴̼͓͚̭̫̓̾̀̽̃̒ȩ̵̜̀͌͗̕

“Like dude! You’re the master of the house! You gotta stop this man! Like snap out of it!” And in desperation, Shaggy slapped Lewis across the face so hard that his skull spun around like a top for a moment before the ghost slapped both sides of his face and turned his head around the right way. Dazed, but finally alert!

É̸̛̛̥͇̤͛̋̔r̶̠̯̹̠̹̈̈́͒̀a̶͉̣̝̣̝̾̂̐̊̚s̸̡̫̑̕ȇ̸̡̖̩́́ ̶̡͎͎̟̾̄̎͒̐́͜m̶̨͓̱͂̓͜y̸̹͍̐̈́̈ͅ ̶̣͉̃̂͗m̷̮̣̲̼͓̲͂̅̃̉̉͘̕ĭ̶̧͈̙͐̃̌̏̂̕ń̸͖̗̩̲͒̓̓̎͝d̵͇̠͂͆̃͛̚̕͠ ̴̢͊̊̏å̴̡̧͔̣̩̣̟ǵ̴̻̌̒̎̿̈̀ą̸̯̦̩̼͇̠͠ḭ̷́̌̇͛͗͊͠n̷̥̏́͌͘͠.̶̢͉̱̦̼̬͔̋̔͑̈́̎̽̓ ̶̡̟͕̠̓͐̒̽̋̈͠E̷̻̫̭̼͕̓̄r̶̮͍̅̑̿͐a̴̱͙̟͌͆s̶̹͖̙̖̭͘é̶̢̱̭̬͕̽͌͠͠ ̷̘͘͠m̶̱͖̔͒e̷̝̣͔̾̎̅̌̑͝ĕ̷͙͈̔̓̎͜ě̸̛͇̩̣͔̣̓͝͝ͅe̷̢͓̬̤͔̳͗̎͋̍͊̒~̶̹̩̻̬̊̿̈́̄,̴͓̏̃̒̉̑ ̷̣̯̱̦͌͗̍́̕͝ơ̴̢̟̐͠o̸̢̱̫̞̼͇̣͆̌̿͆ỏ̵͇̖͇͊ö̷̪̰̠̫̟̆̂h̷͇̱͎̰͇̥͒̂͛̓̆͝͠~̷̞͔̝͝

His eyes finally focused on Shaggy, then his gaze darted to Vivi and Mystery. Flames dancing across his shoulders, the ghost looked back at the paintings with fury.

E̸͔̗̪̣͚̤̗͎̘̯͍̣̿̓̓̒̕͜r̸̡̧̬̙̮̝̖̜̖͎̟͓̒̃̔a̷̧͚̭͓̭̻̎̔͆̿́̓̑̋̌͝͝s̴͍̹̯͔͓̙̮̹̓̈́͋̏̂̒͒̓͐͐e̸̝͓̼͑̏̃̾́̌̚ ̴̨͎̗̫̲̜͚͎̯̗̑̏̔̈́̃͑̃̓m̶̨͍̬͉̗̩̺̣͈̼̟̩̿̎̊̊̊ẙ̷̢̧̧̹̞͍̘͎̗͕̤̈̌͗̿̒̒͌ ̸̡͈̺̘͕̱̪̠͉̫͈͚̙̈́͂̔̈̿͛͌̐̉́͌̀́m̸̛̮̞̄i̴̧͕̥͈̠͍̯̘̠̟͈͎̤͎̓͒ǹ̸͍̟̗͐̅͑̿ͅḑ̷̧̧͙̠̠̗̹̥̪̙̇ ̴̭͈́̄̓ą̶̡͇̣̳̖̻̮͉̼̦̲͎͉̳̬͐̔̿͗̂́̈͛̕͠g̸̻̬̙̟̟̦̼͖͇͎̮̑̔̍̑̐̿̎̉͌̾̇̈́ä̶̭͍̺́̊̍͋̋̌͑̆͋̔̾̃͌͝͝į̸̯̦̗͎̜̹̹͖̜̱͍̞̻͈͛̾̆͗̈́̈́̈̇͂͒̈̿̌͠͝͠n̷̢̰̹̭̗̹͙̤̬͕̳̼̺̮̺̂̾͆̇͆ͅͅ,̸̧̧̼̖̞̘͕̤̯̞̗̫̫̑́͐̈́́́̀̔̈̕̕͠͝ ̶̧̡̝͔͎̺͕̱̙͈͙̙̼͖̝̀̉l̷͉̬̩̥̍͌͋͘͝͝ơ̸̢̞̜̰͓͉͇͕͛͊́͊́̆̍̋̾̍̿̀͘ͅv̴̟̬̜͓̟̲̩̜̠̘̤̼̼̘̊̊̆̊e̶̡̨͙̰̘͎͈̝͉̦͕̱͍̾

“ENOUGH!”

There was an explosion of blinding pink light!

And just as suddenly as the screaming had started, it was quiet. The music was off. The screaming stopped. The Dead Beats vanished into corners and crevices unseen. The only sound was Vivi’s crying.

Mystery Incorporated, Ricky, and Cassidy slowly sat up from where they’d hit the deck, looking around partially surprised they hadn’t been torched by the pink fire. And yet none of them were burned and nothing was touched. The torches had been blown out, and the only light came from the cloudy sky outside the large window. Other than that the room was back to just how it should be, with macabre paintings of supernatural creatures and statues of the dead. And in the middle of it all, just as they had been, were the Mystery Skulls.

Vivi’s legs shook, then gave out under her as she sobbed. “Ar-Ar-Arthur! Artie….”

Lewis still looked absolutely stricken, that black fluid still leaking from his eye holes like tar. He made some move towards his girlfriend, “Vivi-” but he stopped, looking torn, and finally his eyes settled on Ricky. “ I’m sorry. I- it was an accident we- I- we didn’t mean to-... I’m sorry. I have to go!” And then in a flash of pink fire, he was gone.

And then there was Mystery. Once the images stopped, the kitsune was finally shocked out of his stupor and his gaze dropped to the floor. Large, fat tears dripping silently down his snout.

There was a sort of tension in the air, like the calm before the storm. Did the others feel it too? Either way, Daphne was the first to move. She dropped beside Vivi and pulled her into a hug, trying to comfort her, and Velma and Scooby joined in to do the same. Cassidy, Fred and Shaggy stood up as if they didn’t know what to do, and when Ricky stood up, something told him to be very, very careful.

“Mystery?”

“Ricky!” Cassidy hissed at him quietly, and when Ricky looked over at her he could see it on her face: she felt it too.

But he’s my friend, Ricky thought. And he remembered how Mystery had comforted him more times than he cared to recount. So he continued on anyway. With careful, deliberate footsteps towards the creature. “Um- are you-”

“He trusted you.”

That voice. Inhuman. Part growl, part hiss. The only time Ricky had heard anything remotely like it was when Mystery had lost his temper back in the conservatory. But this was different. It was so loud, so deep, so powerful that it froze Ricky dead in his tracks, reverberated deep in his chest, made his skin break out into gooseflesh. And when Mystery turned, a new set of crimson markings were on his face and the only thing in his glowing red eyes was pain and rage. Rage that raised his hackles and bared his fangs. Rage that sent pale mist rising from his shoulders and made his snowy coat glow like a silver flame. And Ricky realized then that he, in fact, had never seen Mystery lose his temper.

“Mark TRUSTED YOU with his BOY…”

Ricky’s heart seized for an entirely different reason. Mark? Mark Owens? Dad?!

But that train of thought ended when Mystery snarled,

“And now you DARE HARM MINE?!”

That was when Ricky realized he was growing. Seven tails lashed menacingly behind him as the kitsune swelled in size until he positively towered over them, almost incorporeal. Glowing, as if his body was made of smoke while curses rumbled out of him in Japanese, in English, in tongues that had never been spoken by man! Until finally Mystery raised his head to the ceiling and everyone’s hands snapped over their ears when he let loose a bellow that shook the house to its very foundations! Then as swift and smooth as the wind itself, the kitsune leapt over their heads and out the window with a howl and the piercing scream of shattering glass.

Ricky’s last glimpse of Mystery as he rushed to the window after him was a white blur vanishing into the dark mass of jagged branches surrounding the manor. And he was gone.

For a few beats of stunned silence, the only sound was Ricky’s heart pounding in his ears and the soft rumble of thunder overhead. Then right as the first raindrops were starting to fall from the dark sky above, Ricky shakily turned around. To Vivi, still sobbing on the floor. And to the others: Cassidy, Fred, Velma, Daphne, Shaggy, and Scooby. All staring out the broken window with the same question written on their faces: what do we do now?

༻˚⁺･⚉｡○✼༓☾⦾♫෴♡💔♡෴♫⦾☽༓✼○｡⚉･⁺˚༺

Thunder boomed overhead as the storm rolled in and began to unleash its fury upon the land below. Soon the rain began to fall in sheets, hiding the Earth in a gray haze of falling raindrops. But even still, as he ran the trails beneath Mystery’s paws were familiar. Smells and shapes, similar yet changed, that he’d seen a thousand times before flew by as he squinted through the rain. Leaping over roots, stones, and creeks. The forest whispered to him like an old friend welcoming him home, but Mystery was too far gone for niceties. Breathless and furious.

How could you? How could you? How could you?!

He trusted you. He trusted you. He trusted you!

With a roar, Mystery burst out of the treeline and was met with a familiar hillside. The familiar sound of waves crashing against the rocks. A familiar church silhouetted black against the sky as lightning cracked across the heavens behind it.

But the god this temple had been built for had long-since forsaken it, and a demon had taken its place.

Mystery’s ears laid flat against his skull as he let loose another otherworldly shriek and took off across the grass. So fast his paws seldom touched the ground. The same ground where all those years ago he’d sniffed and searched until he knew every blade of grass, and still he’d found nothing!

When he reached the top of the hill, the Old Spanish Church towering above him, Mystery exploded through the double doors and screamed, “YOU!”

But another crack of lightning was his only reply.

“You VILLAIN! You COWARD! Did his screams delight you?!” The kitsune roared into the storm as he paced across an empty floor, looking around at shattered stained glass windows and fallen arches.

“I thought I’d won when I denied you the blood of my children, but I see now that I gave you what you wanted! My old nemesis! Have you enjoyed these twenty years of free reign? Drawing power from the pain you’ve caused? DID YOU THINK THIS DAY WOULD NEVER COME?! Well hear me now you disgraced, twisted, FALLEN GOD! My vow was no bluff!” He hissed and spat, and though he received no answer, he knew that it could hear his every word.

“This has all happened before, but OUR story won’t end the way you want it to!” Mystery swore, as lightning split the sky and the wind clawed at his fur. “I’ve taken back Jasmine’s daughter and Mark’s son,” he hissed, chuckling darkly. “By your enemy’s blessing, I have your newest opponents at my side. You tried to kill my children when they were small, but now they’re grown and they are strong, strong, STRONG. Ready to fight you just as their predecessors did five hundred years ago, a hundred years ago, twenty years ago! But you won’t survive it this time. I’ve brought them back just as I promised I would.”

A mad grin split across Mystery’s face as he roared into the storm.

“-AND WE’RE GOING TO KILL YOU!”

Well that was intense. Not gonna lie - this chapter wasn't an easy one to write for that very reason. Ain't NOBODY having a good time right now. 🙁 (But I had so much fun with the formatting and fanart for this chapter for that very reason. 😜) Seriously I put my whole soul into the fanart for this chapter, and I'm so proud of how it came out!!! Good thing too, because I had two other pieces planned for this chapter but uh... they didn't work out. 😅 I have part of a plan for chapter 27 and a whole-ass plan for chapter 28. But plans can always change and no promises as to when either of those will be completed OR posted. Because yay me - I just started college classes again. (And that's not a complaint. Actually I'm having a great time.) So to say the least, I'mma be a busy bish. Please let me know what you thought of the chapter and art!

And of course! Here's the tag list for all the beautiful people who wanted to be notified when each chapter is up. If you want to be added or removed from this list, then feel free to DM and let me know!

@void-lioness @nikicherry1234 @angorwhosebabyisthis @lunasummers04 @orithereticent @mysteryskullsblog @the-moogle-of-your-nightmares @sfcabanasstarcgs

Chapters 1-25 of 'One of Us' are presently posted on Archive of Our Own!

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