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call-sign-shark · 1 year

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Heaven In Your Eyes || Arthur Shelby x Reader!OC

Summary: Beaten with guilt and shame after losing his temper again, Arthur's aimless wandering leads him to church. There she is and, after diving into her heavenly eyes, he is convinced God has sent him His sweetest angel to save his bastard soul.

Words: 2.6k

TW: Blood, a bit of angst, slight blasphemy and bad use of holy water, reckless x caretaker Inspired by the prompt "Where does it hurt? - Everywhere" by @the-three-whumpeteers

Notes:

✞ Timeline: between seasons 2 and 3

✞ Heaven is OP's original character but written with the use of « you » (Moodboard here). Heaven’s voice and song is linked, all you have to do is click on the lyrics.

NEXT CHAPTER || Masterlist

The stumbling tall silhouette of Arthur Shelby was crossing through the thick haunting mist of Birmingham. As unwelcoming the town was during the day, it was nothing compared to night time. When sun faded behind the horizon, chased by the pale glowing face of the moon, the whole city turned into a cut-throat area. Arthur brought the neck of the bottle he was holding to his chapped lips and gulped down a mouthful of pure Irish whisky. The fire trail the beverage left behind it as it went down his throat reminded him he was alive — he could still feel something, even though it was the alcohol’s burning. An animal growl escaped from his lips when the bottle left them only for him to lean his back against one of the church’s gigantic concrete walls. A loud raven’s croak torn the silent veil of the night, making him swears. The gravel in his voice answered to the dull bird, which was watching him from a tree with his tiny and beady eyes.

« Fooking bird, laughing at me like the rest of ‘em eh? »

The raven — which was rather large for a bird — tilted its head to the side and kept staring at the drunk man with a cunning interest. Its black eyes, shining under the moonlight, seemed filled with both a wise glare and a mocking sparkle. Soon, Arthur’s curiosity for the raven’s unusual behavior turned into a senseless anger when he understood why the bird was focusing on him, his explosive rage strengthened by the incredible amount of alcohol he had drunk a bit earlier.

« It’s the damn blood is it? Stop lookin’ at me like I’m — I’m some kind of monster, or a beast or I don’t fookin’ know what else! Go to Hell! »

The bottle flew towards the raven but it did not flicker, as if it knew Arthur was not in the shape of being quick nor particularly precise with aiming. As the glass smashed into the ground, Arthur hit the wall behind him with the back of his head and let out a frustrated scream. No more cocaine, no more auto destructive behavior nor suicide attempts for two years straight, and tonight he fucked it all up. He was convinced he could get better, and God knows he tried his best to do so. Got sober from every poison he used to take, got a religious wife that was trying to turn the wolf in him into a sheep… Hell, he even brought her flowers every damn day. But then came troubles, taking the shape of his little brother, Thomas Shelby.

He asked him to do the dirty job — again.

With his calloused hands, he took another man’s life. At first Arthur thought he would not be that disturbed at the idea of killing someone, after all he had done that almost his entire life. Just one last time, he told himself, just one last time and I’ll go back to my little peaceful life with me wife.

Yet, the guilt and the shame that struck him after bashing the lad’s head against the edge of a sink until his face became a pile of squishy flesh soon became too much to handle.

As the last spurt of blood spattered his face, Arthur’s clouded mind became suddenly crystal clear: it would never stop. After that epiphany, the older Shelby brother contemplated how everyone he deeply loved tended to use him. For Thomas and the rest of the family he was a mad dog, the combat brute whose only times he could enjoy life without a muzzle were when he had to rip someone’s throat apart. For his father, he had been nothing else than a poor naive hound that would have done anything to receive his respect. As for Linda, her love was a cruel mirage he wanted to believe with all his heart — but the illusion had vanished in smoke. Whether she considered him as her personal test subject for Christian brainwashing or as a tool to get what she wants, Arthur could not tell. What he could tell though was that he knew she did not really loved him. She wanted to mould him at her will, but he was no lamb. He was a wolf, a beaten and lonely wolf, but still one. And there was no love for rabid wolves, only a bullet through the brain to cure the madness.

As his skull buzzed with macabre thoughts, whose unpleasant noise reminded him of a furious beehive, a bewitching voice pulled him out of his auto-destructive spiraling. Standing at attention and listening carefully, he came to realize that someone was singing inside the church. Arthur’s eyelids fell on his steel blue eyes and the back of his head gently rested against the cold wall behind him, the same wall he had been previously smashing it with. A sighed escaped from his liquored lips as the angelic and hypnotizing voice, slightly muffled by the church’s heavy wooden doors, plunged him into a soft but oh-so-warm haze.

My heart is pierced by Cupid

I disdain all glittering gold…

Lulled by the sad melody carried away with Birmingham’s cold night breeze, the swarm of raging hornets in Arthur’s brain stopped crashing against the bony walls of his skull. Another sigh — one of relief this time, for the unbearable noisy thoughts and violent buzzing had vanished. His trembling fingers, numbed by the blows he had hit his target with one hour ago and still covered with half-dried blood, slid along his temples and slicked his hair back. The utter and feral anger he had felt was reduced to void, for even his old heart had slowed its pace down in his ribcage.

There is nothing can console me

But my jolly sailor bold…

The tune, embedded with melancholy, soothed his troubled mind and to be honest, he could barely believe it. When that switch in his brain flipped, God knew he was not in control anymore - even dear Linda, who still managed to hush down some of his tantrums, could not tame the beast inside when it broke free a bit more fiercely than usual. Yet, this voice did so. This stranger, faceless and nameless ghost of the night, brought him back to sanity with the sole power of her voice. The words she was singing, with her a juvenile and enchanting tone, were wrapping his heart. Arthur sniffed and fought hard against the dawning tears that were forming delicate crystal beads at the corner of his closed eyes.

If he had been the jolly sailor bold, he would have thrown himself out of the boat to join the siren that was singing.

My heart is pierced by Cupid

I disdain all glittering gold.

There is nothing can console me

But my jolly sailor bold…

She repeated, sadder than she previously sang.

Her song sipped through his heart and filled the cracks with molten gold. Arthur’s lips stretched in an almost invisible grin without even realizing it — By her voice, he was convinced she could repair the damaged creatures like him and make them even more beautiful than they were before they had been dragged through the trenches’ mud and shit. He had barely came to his senses, almost miraculously sobered up, when silent fell again in the church. Arthur reopened his eyes, and shook his head - Had he dreamt? Had it been the whiskey singing to him? No, he could not be that crazy right? Not quite sure if he was starting to hear voices and see things, Shelby decided that he had to found out who had been singing to his very own soul. He wanted to see her, the girl who soothed his foul heart and his twisted mind. He wanted to know, no, he HAD to know, even though his whole being was fragile like a flickering candle flame caught in a hurricane and would probably shatter in million of pieces if she turned out to be an illusion.

Gathering all his remaining strength, Arthur grabbed the handle and opened the church’s door.

[…]

A shiver ran down your delicate spine at the loud silence that floated in the gigantic and empty church. The peculiar sweet yet strong scent of myrrh, wood and frankincense filled your lungs with its holy fragrance. The vibrations of the last word you sang was still echoing in the room, swirling to the high and sculpted ceiling, from which marble angels were watching over you. If someone would have told you two years ago that the only place you would find comfort would be a church, you would not have believe it. You had never been particularly fervent about religion, but you did believe in higher forces whether they were good or bad. More than a matter of faith, the church itself was an old friend of yours. A gargantuan friend of stone, holy titan always welcoming you even in the darkest moments of your life. What you liked the most were these lonely moments at night, during which you could light up dozen of candles and sing your sorrow to the status and colorful stained-glass windows. No gossip from the parish, no believers swarming like ants within these mighty walls. There were just you, the candle lights and the soothing silence. For a few hours, you could finally find peace.

Brushing the varnished wood of the altar with your thin fingers and painted-red nails, you let your mind drift and, suddenly, the world around you vanished. You sunk so deep in the abyss of your thoughts that you did not hear the creaking sound of the heavy door opening, nor the footsteps that followed. All you could heard were the « Burn witch, burn! » that hundred of villagers screamed at you in the woeful remembrance of your past. And in spite of your immaculate porcelain skin, you bore the scars of their words deep in your soul.

[…]

Arthur made a few steps before freezing, his body refusing to come closer as if the aura around the creature that was standing back to him , right in front of the altar lightened up with dozen and dozen of small dancing flames, was too sanctified to be violated. Bathed in the soft and warm orange hue of candles, the long white hair of the woman fell down the small of her back like an ivory waterfall. Right above her the pale glow of the full moon coming through the stained-glass window formed a luminous halo around her head.

His breathing stopped, choking in his throat at such a divine vision. The gangster opened his mouth to speak but no words managed to come out. He had never been good with words anyway. Instead he moistened his lips and swallowed, his mouth dry. The white-haired girl had started to hum the same song she had been singing a bit earlier, not aware of his presence — and he did not dare to disturbing her as if he feared God’s punishment. He took another step, the wooden floor creaking under his sole.

This time the angel — because he was convinced it was one — jumped and turned around, an expression of utter surprise veiling her sweet face. Her fox eyes, adorned with two iris so fair it reminded him of aquamarine stones, scrutinized his slightest movements. She remained petrified for what felt eternity for her but, regarding him, time had stopped for good. Arthur finally inhaled sharply, coming back to life.

All those endless nights of crying, all those endless nights of praying in vain for something or someone to save him, and here you were… His salvation.

He had asked God to send him, the most desperate sinner of all, His most beautiful Angel and He had done so.

She was not just pretty. She was otherworldly and vaguely threatening. Almost ethereal in her short white dress whose cut let her naked back for the world to see.

« I waited for ya. » He whispered.

She blinked, her full and juicy lips opening with surprise.

He stuttered, looking down and decided it was better for you if he stopped talking. The gravel in his hoarse voice, as strong as it was, sounded indescribably frail. As if this tall and slightly threatening man could shatter at your single touch. Now he felt stupid, clumsy with words contrary to Tommy and his naturally eloquent and charismatic speech. In addition to the unpleasant impression of being a fool, Arthur’s own whisky-scented breath and the strong metallic smell of blood reminded him of his horrific appearance. Overcoming the awe you infused in him, panic started to kick.

You frowned, and all of sudden he did not look that impressive anymore. Swept away by the wind, your face relaxed and wrapped itself with a calm, almost placid expression. You exhaled through your nose and walked towards the gangster, who had brought his bloody hands to each side of his head and was now pulling his own hair in a desperate attempt to not lose track.

« Where does it hurt? » You asked with a quiet and soothing tone, for you were concerned about all the blood he was covered with.

Arthur raised his gaze toward the petite white-haired doll who had just pressed one of her cold little hands on his. Your ice against his fire made his legs weak and his heart missed a beat. How his breathing calmed down at your touch was a mystery, but it did. Not quite comprehending why you did not seem scared of him, he stuttered again, all flustered.

« Shhh, shhhh. Everything’s okay, take a deep breath and answer with all the time you need. » Your hand gently tightened its grip, willing to show him you were there and you were not going anywhere until he feels better.

« Where does it hurt? »

« Ev-Everywhere love. It hurts everywhere. »

His hands, his face, his body, his brain, his soul, his damn tortured soul… It all ached too much, and too constantly for him to bear anymore. E-ve-ry-where, that was all he could say because pain was all he could feel.

Without answering, you pulled him to the altar and invited him to sit on the marble stairs. The strong and fierce gangster followed you without the single physical resistance and gave in between your hands, as a rag doll. All he did was looking at you with his charming but oh-so-exhausted blue eyes as you tore the fabric of your dress near your thighs and soaked it in holy water.

« Let me wash away the blood. » Your voice echoed in the vastness of the church, enticing and haunting at the same time — enough to send a pleasant shiver down his spine. You had barely finished your sentence when you started rubbing the wet cloth against his hollow cheek to clean his pale skin from the dark red blood. Once again, he could not help watching you during the whole ordeal all the while enjoying the fresh sensation of the holy water cleansing the dirt of his soul. Not minding his stare filled with fascination, you focused on your task, brows slightly furrowed and fingers blessing him with the softest and most caring touch someone had given him.

« Yer an Angel. I swear you are eh. »

You quickly glanced at him, a sparkle of amusement shining in your cunning celeste blue eyes, before looking back at what you were doing. The weight of his gaze brought fire to your cheeks, for he looked at you like he had just realized what love was.

He looked at you, and to his greatest surprise, found Heaven in your eyes.

I'm super new in the Peaky Blinders fandom, so please bear with me... Especially since English is not my native language. To be honest I am kind of scared to post it so any comment, review, reblog or constructive criticism is welcome. Also, I'll be more than happy to meet people in the Peaky Blinders fandom! In the meantime, I hope you enjoyed some Arthur and Heaven. Still don’t know if I’ll write a full series or snipets of these two love birds.

Tags: @areyenotfondofmelobster

#Arthur shelby #Arthur shelby x reader #Peaky blinders #Peaky blinders x reader #Arthur shelby x oc #arthur shelby x ofc #peaky blinders imagine #peaky blinders fluff #Arthur shelby imagine #Thomas Shelby #Tommy shelby #Arthur Shelby x Heaven #Heaven Shelby #Arthur Shelby fluff

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lexsssu · 2 years

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Song (Rhaegar Targaryen)

Flufftober Day 11

TAGS: Rhaegar/Dragoness!Reader, hijinks & shenanigans, fluff, pining, simping

Viserys loves his big sister.

She plays with him whenever she has time, tells him the most wonderful stories, and sings the sweetest songs. Songs so sweet that mother and big brother Rhaegar smile whenever they hear them.

The young prince has yet to understand the world, but all he knows for sure is that he loves his family and that he can’t wait to play with his future niece or nephew once they’re big enough to play with.

Maybe he should pick some flowers for you from the garden? He saw a small patch of pretty white daffodils earlier…

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

When word came of Lord Steffon’s successful journey to find a Valyrian bride for Crown Prince Rhaegar, Aerys cackled in maddened delight at the prospect of adding superior Valyrian stock to his line. A feast was haphazardly thrown to commemorate the welcome news.

Rhaegar honestly didn’t expect the expedition to bear fruit, but he didn’t doubt the Baratheon Lord’s word. Apparently, the maiden was of Aurion’s line, a descendant of the dragonlord who proclaimed himself as the first Valyrian emperor. The Targaryens who weren’t even a powerful family during the height of Valyria’s power were certainly below her pedigree.

The prince could only speculate why she would agree to this union when Lord Steffon also mentioned the people of Qohor worshiping her. Mutters about the ‘return of the dragons’ circulated from Qohor and to the rest of Essos, but Rhaegar assumed it was due to the knowledge of the dragonlord she descended from.

He supposes he will have his answers soon enough.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Presenting Her Eminence, Lucifiel of Ainz Ooal Gown, Empress of Valyria and Essos.”

All sound within the throne room disappeared as the Maiden herself seems to have descended from the heavens to grace them with her beauty. It was as if she captured the very first snowfall within her hair as it shone so pure that it put even pure ivory to shame. Despite not having the violet-eyes normally associated with Valyrians, the deep molten gold within your gaze was more precious than any earthly Lannister gold which paled in comparison.

None of your steps made any sound as you leisurely walked towards the Iron Throne, head held high yet not to the point where it seemed like you were looking down upon them. You held yourself like someone who knew their worth, yet did not wield it to suppress or belittle your lessers.

When your gaze connects with his, Rhaegar was at a loss for words and for once in his life showed an expression of…uncertainty and was that…bashfulness?

If this wasn’t such an important setting, Arthur Dayne would have guffawed in amusement already at this rare moment. It wasn’t everyday one could so easily fluster the dragon prince himself.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Don’t look down. Don’t look down. Don’t look down. Don’t look down. Don’t look down.“

“Shit. Do they know I’m just faking it ‘til I make it?”

“...Why is this prince so…attractive? Weren’t medieval princes supposed to be deformed from all that inbreeding?”

“Oh fuck. He’s looking right at me. Be cool…!”

#lexsssu writes #a song of ice and fire #asoiaf #game of thrones #rhaegar targaryen #rhaegar targaryen x reader #reader insert #flufftober 2022 #cross posted on ao3

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shookspearewrites · 3 years

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Fruit salad, MC x Ikevamp

So you may or may not have noticed that I like to call people pet names - often related to fruit (Example, @cauldroncatx is my darling little lemon, hi sweetie hope you’re well!) And I got thinking about what fruit I would call some of the ikevamp suitors and how I think they’d react so I wrote this -

This is some major self indulgence on my part, no one asked for this but I simply had to write it. I’ve only written this for 4 of the boys no hate @ the others I do love them all!! but, I might do a part 2 to this one day if anybody would be interested in that??

Much love - JJ x

~~~~~~~~~~

Theodorus van Gogh:

My blueberry - Okay so my thinking here was based on three main things;

I believe I read somewhere that it is canon that Theo enjoys blueberry pudding so, there’s that.

His favourite colour is blue, so thats an obvious one.

Blueberries are tart, sour in some cases but, they often have this delightfully sweet aftertaste. I actually didn’t like blueberries for a long time before I started to eat them more and more, and now they’re one of my favourite fruits! I guess I kinda feel the same way about Theo as before playing his route, his brash exterior put me off of him but now, as we all know, he is my favourite of the suitors (or joint first place with Arthur).

To be honest, Theo would probably absolutely despise this nickname if he wasn’t extremely close to the person calling him it - Which is exactly the reason I’d call him it all of the time. I’m a bit of a tease so, if given the opportunity I would push all of Theo’s buttons all of the time, lovingly ofc. At some point, he’d probably snap from having the teasing tables turned on him, pinning you up against the nearest wall and kissing down your neck, growling against your skin and giving you deep purpley blue love bites reminiscent of blueberries themselves.

If it were his spouse calling him it, Theo would blush and grumble about it but, he’d secretly love it. If you were to call him it in front of anyone else though, he’d quickly kiss you before you could even finish the word, leaving you breathless. Honestly, sometimes it is the only thing he wants to hear - If Theo’s had to spend a few days away for work, or if he’s had a particularly long, hard day, he’ll slip into bed and nuzzle against your back, his nose burying itself in the crook of your neck, silently begging you to dote on him and call him that pet name which he loves so much.

Arthur Conan Doyle:

My cherry - Because they’re somehow sweet and bright whilst also being deep and mature.

Cherries are often used in euphemisms and things of the like so, I think that Arthur would absolutely take this nickname the wrong way at first, interpreting it as playful flirting rather than as an innocent little comment. But, as time passes, he’d pick upon it’s cute, innocent meaning and get rather bashful about it. It’ll be Arthur’s favourite thing for you to call him and Theo will absolutely tease him for it, but honestly Arthur couldn’t care less about Theo’s teasing. He’ll also go red like a lil cherry whenever you call him it, so if you wanna make him flustered, a casual little “I adore you, my cherry” will make that magic happen for you.

As much as he hates to admit it maybe not as much as Theo but he’s certainly a close second place, Arthur is a soft and genuine man underneath the flirty front he puts on. To know that you love him so much to share with him such a beautiful relationship and the world’s sweetest nickname absolutely warms his heart. After a while in your relationship, he’ll start to sign off his letters to you with something along the lines of:

“My love for you is eternal,

Your cherry,

Arthur.”

Dazai Osamu:

My plum - Because they’re dark and moody but still manage retain that delightful, bright centre somewhere deep within.

Okay so we all know that Dazai loves calling people nicknames, little pet names to express that he cares for them so, when you turn the tables and call him your plum, I guarantee he’d be so flustered by it. It takes him a while to process it, honestly - Toshiko-san you really care for him enough to bestow him a sweet little pet name? Safe to say, Dazai is over the moon about it underneath his rather bashful response.

I have a feeling he’d also give you a fruit-based nickname so the pair of you could match though, knowing Dazai, it’d be a really weird obscure fruit like kumquats or mulberries or something like that. He’ll write poems about beautiful fruits ripening in orchards as like romantic analogies for you, describing your relationship as the brightest summer when all the berries seem to be sweeter than ever before - He’s a romantic, for sure.

Jean D’Arc:

My strawberry - Because they’re delicate, tender and pure, whilst also being vibrant, alluring and sensual.

At first Jean will probably hate this nickname to no end, after all, in his time, strawberries were considered “The Devil’s fruit” because they were overly sweet and tempting. The strawberry tree in the 12 century was seen as a symbol of sensuality, very much enforcing such sins as lust and debauchery which, lets be honest, isn’t really good Catholic Jean’s vibe.

But when you explain that their symbolism has drastically changed over time to symbolise purity and enchantment whilst also symbolising positive, sweet sensuality, Jean will change his tune on the whole nickname a bit. He’ll eventually start to like it but, it doesn’t stop him from being a flustered blushing mess about it all - His cheeks look like lil tiny strawberries when he blushes!

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mcofthemansion · 3 years

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So this is a request for Kisara-16! (Thank you so very much for this request Kisara!) It's about Arthur showing Y/n around Edinburgh (where he grew up) I hope you enjoy it!

...

The streets of Edinburgh were quite cheerful, people smiled and greeted eachother, it was lively but not hectic.

This had been the first time Y/n had traveled anywhere since deciding to live in Le Comte's mansion. So a trip to Edinburgh with Arthur was just a lovely idea! Y/n loved travelling and spending time with her beloved, so spending time with him in his hometown, well nothing could be better!

The way she felt walking down the streets was a sort of odd feeling.

Edinburgh just matched Arthur perfectly.

It was energetic and alive and gave off an almost flirtatious mood, everything was beautiful! Yet, the weather gave it a hint of sadness.

Although Arthur did warn her that Britain did tend to be cloudier.

As they kept walking Y/n saw a lovely brick estate, it reminded her a tiny bit of Comte's but it seemed to remind her more of someone else, a particular someone that was standing beside her.

"Luv! What's with all the daydreaming! We're nearly there" beamed Arthur.

He walked up to the front deck of the beautiful estate and piled the luggage onto it.

Y/n snapped out of her daze,"Sorry, Sorry! I just can't believe my eyes! Edinburgh is so beautiful" She replied

"Glad you like it Y/n, welcome to my estate! It's still quite shocking Comte bought it after my supposed death, it was a very nice thing to do, it all looks just as I remember it" he rambled joyously. He looked at Y/n and happily.

She smiled and said "I'm glad we can stay here together Arthur, It's really a dream come true!"

The two of them moved thier belongings inside and Y/n decided to inspect the whole house. It was Arthur's afterall! Maybe there's an old picture of him somewhere, or something else that was interesting she could go ask him about.

She made her way upstairs and found herself in Arthur's old bedroom.

Arthur's taste hasn't changed much in furniture, so blues and browns decorated the room, and the curtains that matched were in a beautiful 1900's style.

Y/n looked around noticed pictures in his room, his smile really was beautiful in any time period! She also saw some old articles and documents on Arthur's desk.

She picked up one of the articles lying on his desk, "a dissertation on tabes dorsalis, so it's like a medical thing and the date on it is 1885" she accidentally mumbled, then in a moment she felt strong arms around her shoulders.

"So this is where my lovely bird flew off too!" Arthur teased

Y/n giggled a bit at the remark.

"Sorry Arthur, I couldn't help myself" she said

Arthur smiled, "it's quite alright luv, anything else caught your fancy?"

Y/n put the paper down and picked up another that was previously lying underneath it.

She looked at the article and said "It's an article advocating for compulsory vaccination".

Arthur smiled, "I sure did write a lot of them"

Y/n loved all the hard work Arthur did, all his articles were just beautiful!

But she wondered what Arthur was feeling at that moment, remembering his life as a doctor did cause him pain, but at this moment he was smiling, it must have been the nostalgia.

Arthur laughed, "based on the way your looking at me right now poppet and because of the articles we saw, I'd assume you're wondering if I'm ok with seeing all my stuff from the past" he stated

"Impressive deduction as always Arthur" Y/n said.

He thought about it a moment and said "luv, a few years ago I never would have thought about returning here, but meeting you a couple months back I feel like a changed and stronger man, honesty I did enjoy being a doctor back then so I've decided to find the courage to try re-doing my license and be a doctor again and don't worry about ol' Sherlock, he's not going anywhere, I'm still gladly writing and all progress I've made is because of you!"

They both smiled sweetly.

Y/n was glad Arthur was feeling better, it just wasn't fair that past demons would haunt him. Arthur briefly looked around his room then said "Alright, enough of the dreary talk of my past, let me show you some places I'd often frequent here in Edinburgh."

Y/n smiled and accepted his offer.

The two of them quickly came back to the beautiful paths of this sweet town and Y/n tried to look like she knew where she was going, but really only Arthur knew where he was taking her.

After some time and a bit of a walk, the two of them came to a very nice greenhouse.

The architecture was breathtaking and even the glass windows looked artistic.

"Welcome to the Royal botanic gardens", he announced as Y/n looked around in awe.

"Arthur! You studied botany? I never knew!" She exclaimed, looking around in astonishment, trying really hard to picture Arthur studying flowers and weeds.

Arthur laughing a bit at Y/n's cute reaction, "I sure did luv," he replied.

"That's both impressive and adorable Arthur," She remarked

"It means a world of good to hear you say that my pretty bird, your words are music to my ears, I do love hearing your voice luv," he teased.

"Arthur!" She said turning a bashful shade of pink.

Arthur smiled joyfully at her response.

"How about I show you around the garden Y/n," he laughed.

"I'd love that," she said.

Arthur showed her around the greenhouse with the large lily pads, he showed her where exotic plants like palm trees are, he showed her all the medicinal plants and herbs, and the beautiful but poisonous ones too.

Y/n learned so much by hearing Arthur talk about all his experiences.

Eventaully after a long day of walking around the garden they sat together on a bench and listened to the birds chirp and the bugs buzz.

"Today was so wonderful Arthur," said Y/n to him.

"I really hope so luv, I wish I could've introduced you to the people in my life today, but sadly they are all gone now, which means the only person you really met that had any sort of connection to me was Adam Worth," he sighed looking up at the sky, he continued "back during you're first month here, and I do apologize for that incident luv, oh how I wish I could've brought you home my family or introduce you to my favorite professor," he rambled.

"Arthur" Y/n said as she cuddled up close to him, she hated it when Arthur had any sort of regret, Y/n wished more than anything to alleviate any pain he felt.

But when she looked up at him, he smiled.

"Even though I can't do it in person, I'd still like to introduce you luv," he stated as he took out some photographs from his jacket pocket, "while you snooped around in my bedroom I grabbed these from my study," he explained joyfully.

He gave her one that depicted an older man, an older woman, and three children.

Arthur pointed to the older man and woman, "These are my parents, Charles Altamont Doyle and Mary Doyle," he explained, then paused a moment and continued "My father did care a lot for the family and my mum was always very sweet to us, it was because of her I gained my love of fudge," he remembered, he laughed a little and continued.

He pointed at the children in the photograph and said "The one in the middle is me, then there are my siblings Connie and Innes, great people but nothing like me, my brother even worked in military you know," he chattered.

Y/n was very glad to see his family, they all seemed to share the same warmth Arthur had to him.

They had his kind and intelligent eyes and his cheerful smile.

"They're wonderful Arthur, I'm glad I could meet them!" She said.

"I'm glad you could see them, oh but there's a few more people I would like you to meet," he said as he took out a few more photographs.

He gave her one depicting an older man.

"That's my former university professor, Joseph Bell, he is the reason Sherlock has his observation abilities," he said.

"I thought you modeled him after your own abilities of observation Arthur," Y/n asked.

Arthur smiled "where do you think I got them luv?" He playfully answered.

Y/n laughed at Arthur's remark, "you're adorable Arthur! I still think you just always had that ability," she replied.

Arthur hugged her in response.

"You really are the sweetest person in the world Y/n" he exclaimed.

"Aww, Arthur I love you so much!" Y/n said.

Arthur showed her his last photograph, it depicted a young man around Arthur's age.

Arthur looked at it and said "This was a close friend and classmate of mine, George Turnavine Budd, he stood by me even when my own medical practice was failing, he encouraged me to write saying I had a talent for it, that's when I wrote one of my first short stories, The Haunted Grange of Goresthorpe, using my knowledge of botany it was a failure of course, but George never let me quit writing, the only way I can describe his personality is a difficult mix of your's and Theo's personalities, an odd combination, yet I find myself missing him, I'm sure he would've adored living in the mansion with everyone," he finished.

"He sounds like such a good person, I wish he could've met everyone back at the mansion, I'm glad you had him in your life Arthur" Y/n replied

Arthur put the photographs away and said "It's alright luv, I'm glad I had him when I did, but now I'm just has happy as I was then having you and everyone else and I wouldn't trade it for anything," he stated.

"I'm so glad I came to Edinburgh Arthur, It's amazing here!" Y/n said.

"And I'm glad I brought you here luv!" Arthur replied.

As Y/n cuddled close to Arthur, he took the opportunity to put a necklace around her neck.

"Arthur! What's this?" Y/n asked.

"It belonged to my mum, and it has a flower design, a perfect present wouldn't you say?" He explained cheerfully.

"Arthur, thank you, it's beautiful! Are you sure?" Y/n asked.

"Most definitely luv, I want you to have a reminder of our trip here," Arthur explained.

He looked up and noticed the sky had turned orange and pink hues.

"Well luv, it's getting late, we should head back to my place, afterall tomorrow I'm showing you around where my elementary school was and to the university I went to!" Arthur explained cheerfully, "I can't wait Arthur!" Y/n exciamed.

The two headed back to the estate afterall tomorrow promised to be just as beautiful as today's experience.

#ikevamp Arthur #ikemen vampire #ikemen vampire Arthur #cybrid #request #bad writing skills

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fallatyourfeet · 4 years

Text

Sweet Arthur

(Arthur Shelby x Reader)

Summary: You and Arthur have been together for a little while now, but still, he can't believe his good fortune.

Word count: 914

Warnings: None really. Maybe some angst.

A/N: Okay, so I don't know what happened here. I started with just fluff and sentiment in mind, but something happened about half the way through. Maybe it had something to do with the few glasses of whiskey under my belt... I'm not sure. But I hope it makes sense... maybe I should have waited until I could proof read it in the morning before I posted. Oh well... fingers crossed it works.

If you enjoyed this, please feel free to visit my blog and take a look around. You will find my masterlist in my Bio.

Any feedback, comments, reblogs, asks or messages are very welcome and appreciated. I would love to know what you think of my little stories.

This piece was inspired by the lovely @a-libra-writes. Her sweet SFW Alphabet on Arthur just made this idea pop into my head. Please go check out her work, it's great and she is a sweetheart too.

Releasing a long sigh of contentment, Arthur opened his eyes and looked up to you. The feeling of your fingers running through his hair as he lay stretched out on the couch, his head resting comfortably in your lap, was almost hypnotising. Each gentle touch, sending shivers of release across the worked up muscles of his shoulders... Shoulders that were wound so tight when he walked through the door that evening, they felt as if the slightest movement would snap them. Reaching over the back of his head, he placed his palm to the side of your face, his long fingers tangling softly within your hair, his voice rough and yet surprisingly tender. “I’m a lucky man, (YN). I don’t know what I did to deserve ya, but whateva it was... I’m glad I did it?”

Giving a little sigh yourself, you smiled the most perfect smile, a beautiful balance of both charmed and bashful sentiment, your lovely eyes reflecting the amber flames that flickered and crackled in the fireplace. Leaning down, your warm soft lips somehow reached his forehead, giving him a lingering kiss that had another sigh of contentment passing his lips. When you sat back up, you spoke, and if your voice and eyes hadn't been so sincere, he would have disagreed with you. “Oh Arthur... you really can be the sweetest man... you must give yourself more credit.”

Arthur closed his eyes again, his hand leaving the side of your face to grab yours which sat idly upon his chest. Wrapping every available finger around your hand, he lifted it to his mouth... kissing every fingertip with tender lips. With a small shake of his head, he placed it back to his chest, holding it against the beat of his heart, his head filled with only sweet thoughts of you.

Arthur knew he was the high maintenance one in your relationship and it only made him love you more. The fact that you put up with all his bullshit was a constant source of wonder for him. Well, that wasn’t exactly true... it was more the fact that you knew exactly how to deal with his bullshit, that brought wonder... not only to him, but the rest of the family too. You had this way of making him see sense and calming him down, even when his usually uncontrollable rage took control. You made it very easy for him to love you and every day since the moment you waltzed into his life, he found himself counting his blessings to the almighty lord above.

It was true, that since the pair of you had been together, no other man even dared look your way... he offered you a level of protection from unwanted advances that you had never experienced before. And those advances were plentiful... because, well... you were stunning, but since the first day you walked around Small Heath by his side, your arm entwined with his, those advances quickly dried up... and you adored him for it. But any protection he offered you, paled in comparison to the protection you offered him. Of course, it wasn’t the same iron fisted protection of a peaky blinder... you were far too sweet, gentle and kind hearted for that. Now, Arthur was the first to admit that the inside of his head ran on a very delicate balance. And it was your constant, even and unwavering presence that kept that very delicate balance from collapsing... seemingly with no real effort on your behalf... it was just you being you. It was this level of protection Arthur could never imagine existed and he doubted... no, he knew, any amount of love, fine dresses or hats, necklaces or rings could repay you for everything you had given him. And with each passing day with you by his side, he found a small lost piece of his broken head and heart... tiny fragments he thought he left scattered behind on the battlefields of France forever... tiny pieces found and returned that made him feel just a little more whole with every new day.

Swinging his legs off the side of the couch, Arthur sat up, all his sweet thoughts of you suddenly transforming with a burning need for closeness. Consuming him with the need to kiss you and to have your body as close as physically possible. Reaching over he grabbed you around the waist, lifting you with ease, straddling you across his lap, his lips pressing against yours with insatiable urgency, leaving the both of you breathless as his fingers worked at the buttons on the back of your dress. In his breathlessness, his hands slipped beneath your lace bodice underneath, his appetite for you only increasing as his touch brought a wave of little bumps across the soft skin of your back, your murmurs of pleasure only feeding it more. And as he stood up with you now straddled around his middle, he spoke between kisses as me made his way down the hall. “You're a good woman (YN), far too good for the likes of me. But while you'll ave me, I'm gonna take everthin’ you're happy to give.”

Tilting your head back to see his eyes, you grabbed his face between your hands, your fingertips rubbing tenderly against his stubble, your words filling his heart with profound and immeasurable contentment. “Arthur, oh, my sweet Arthur, I'm here for the long haul... Now, please just stop talking and get me to the bedroom.”

#arthur shelby x reader #arthur shelby #arthur shelby fanfic #arthur shelby imagine #arthur shelby fanfiction #arthur shelby image #peaky blinders x reader #peaky blinders #peaky blinders fanfiction #peaky blinders fanfic #peaky blinders imagines #peaky blinders imagine

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collecting-stories · 5 years

Text

Magic | Finn Shelby

You might have me believing I don’t always have to be alone. - Hey Stephen, Taylor Swift.

The door to the caravan swung shut and you pressed your hand over your mouth trying not to laugh. Giddy excitement blossomed in your stomach; your other hand entwined with Finn’s as you led him into the caravan.

“How much time do you suppose we have?” He asked, catching you around the waist and landing on the soft bed with you.

“Well since you let the door go, I’d guess less than ten minutes, Johnny’s got ears like a hawk.” You giggled, the noise near deafening when Finn leaned in and began placing kisses along your neck.

“I did no such thing, you’re the one who pulled me forward.” He replied, teasing you. His fingers danced across your sides as he kissed your cheeks and then your lips. Sooner than expected a pounding resonated on the wooden caravan door. You dropped your head down to the bed and groaned as Finn pulled himself off of you.

The door swung open and Johnny Dogs came through, his cap in his hands as he looked between the two of you. Finn was standing up, fixing his waistcoat while you sat up on the bed, shifting your dress so that it wasn’t twisted at the shoulders. Johnny’s eyes narrowed and the cap went back on his head as he frowned. “The two of you are gonna get your ears clobbered off. Now, Tommy’s here for you Finn, git.” He waved toward the door for Finn to walk passed him.

The youngest Shelby came out of the caravan, walking leisurely down the short steps and picking his cap off the ground where it had fallen as you dragged him toward the promise of privacy. Johnny came out after him and you behind Johnny, looking bashful now that you were aware of just how many people were around. Tommy was at the car with Arthur and John, all three with their eyes toward you and your boyfriend. It was a relatively new term for you.

It was just last week that you had been heading back to camp when you caught sight of Finn standing in the bakery on watery lane. You recognized him from the back, boyish and tall in stance, that ginger hair, so unlike his brothers, was peeking out from beneath his cap. Butterflies erupted in your stomach at the sight of him and you thought about just standing there, just window shopping a Shelby until the possibility of him catching sight of you was too much to risk. But you were itching to know what it’d be like to go out with him. Maybe you would just say hello. Your families crossed paths more often than not but you doubted he even knew who you were from anyone else in your clan.

Still you braved the bakery, enveloping yourself in the warm scent of yeast as you stepped into the small shop. The bell above the door signaled your arrival and Finn, who had been gazing at the different loaves with little interest turned at the noise. He’d been sent here on an errand by Polly but he cared little about which loaf of bread was the best and truly wanted to be doing something important. Something worthy of wearing the peaked cap he kept on.

“Hello,” You were surprised with how quickly you managed to find your voice when his eyes were on you. Carefully, you slipped passed him to the section of shelving nearest the wall. You could feel his eyes follow you to your spot and grew warm under his gaze.

“Afternoon.” Finn finally replied, squaring his shoulders and doing his best impression of the Shelby smirk. His hands found the lapels of his suit-coat and he tugged a little as if he was straightening out the impeccable uniform of the Peaky Blinders.

You smiled, albeit a little shy, before turning back to the bread. You were clutching your basket in your arm and trying to quell the bubbling nerves that were dancing in your stomach at the close proximity of your crush. You had been to the Garrison with your friends just the week prior and had seen Finn there. Not nearly the first time you had laid eyes on the youngest Shelby but still you couldn’t keep yours off of him that night. He looked so lovely in the gray suit he was sporting, laughing at the bar with Isaiah and Michael. Your friends had teased you when they realized they were watching the Shelby but you brushed off their eager chanting that you ‘must speak to him’. There was no way, you could hardly speak to a normal guy your age. God, a Shelby? Never.

“What do you think?” Finn continued, holding up two similar loaves of bread for your inspection.

“I would go for that one personally. A bit softer, I would say.” You replied, reaching for the loaf of bread you had chosen for him and giving it a gentle squeeze, as if selling your idea to him.

“Good choice.” Finn smiled, the smirk replaced with the sweetest glow of happiness that you’d ever seen. Better than the confident smirk and better than the forced laughter of trying to impress his friends. “I’d be willing to return the favor, should you need assistance.”

“Bread is a tricky subject.” You couldn’t keep your own smile off your face.

Finn stepped closer to you, his tall, thin frame cornering your somewhat shorter one as he reached around you to pull a loaf of bread from an upper shelf. It was silly you thought, to be flirting over something like bread, if flirting was what you were doing. He held the loaf out for you and you took it from him. “This one looks worthy.”

“If you’re sure.” You grinned, “then this one is it.”

Once Finn had paid for his bread, and yours as well, ignoring the protests you threw his way and insisted that he purchase both, he asked if there was anywhere he could walk you. “The streets can get a bit worrisome this time of the day.” He informed you, holding the door open and letting you pass beneath his arm.

“Midafternoon?” You asked, looking back to him. You were trying not to embarrass yourself in front of him, watching every step you took, afraid that you would trip and fall and Finn would think you were a klutz. You weren’t but the concern that he might think you were anything less than worthy of his time was terrifying. Desperately, all you wanted was his attention.

Finn was only twice as nervous, the skin beneath his suit feeling itchy and warm as he tried to keep his breathing calm and his voice steady. He was a Shelby after all, he had a reputation to uphold and part of that reputation, as proven by John and Tommy (and even Arthur on certain days) was a certain level of calm collectedness that made women swoon. He couldn’t throw all that expectation away just because looking at you made his pulse quicken and his hands clam up and his mouth go dry. What would you think if he so openly pursued you, if he said everything he wanted to say right off the bat? No, he had to play it cool.

“You never know, it’s best to be safe.”

“Well then I should appreciate the escort.” You replied. When he held his arm out, bent at the elbow, for you to take you did. Your fingers settled over the soft fabric of his suit, tucking into the inside of his elbow and smiling up at him. Pretty and pleasant, you tried to remind yourself.

Sure, John Shelby had been taken by a gypsy but that was a business set-up and John Shelby needed a mother for his children and Esme had a certain fire in her that seemed to draw everyone in, moths to her eternal flame. You were not Esme, you lacked that spirit that made her such a treasure. You were only average, nothing special about you to set you apart from other gypsies. Even other gypsies couldn’t not find anything interesting enough in you to take a second glance. What would Finn think to find out that you were not as sweet and lovely as the other girls in Small Heath. Not a proper English lady like Michael’s girl, you were more for the country. A breed of human meant to never settle, to never stay too long in the same place. Though you had returned to Small Heath plenty of times you had also been other places, rolling green moors that took away your breath and beautiful seas that called to you to swim in them. A true gypsy though you would willingly lay down your life in the caravan for a chance with Finn Shelby. Was that silly to say so early on? All he’d done was smile at you but you felt like the whole world was at the tips of your fingers.

“I’ve seen you around before,” Finn began to say but never finished. Someone called his name and he stopped walking you toward whatever destination you might eventually stop at to turn in the direction of the booming voice.

Against the noise of a busy street in Small Heath in the afternoon you could hear it. “Finn Shelby!”

There on the front step of a house was a woman you had seen plenty of times but never up close. Polly Gray stood at the door of the betting shop, hands on her hips in the most imposing manner she could have mustered as she shouted across the street for her nephew. The red blotchy warmth that was covering Finn’s body spread up to his ears, highlighting the freckles that he shared with his eldest brother. He was almost bashful as he looked at you.

“I’ve to go, can’t keep Aunt Pol waiting.” They said Tommy was in charge of the business but it was clear that Polly was in charge of everything else.

You nodded, “of course,” your hand fell from his elbow. He looked somewhat regretful like maybe he would have stayed if it had been anyone else calling his name.

“Could we see each other again? I’ll be at the Garrison tonight.” He said, looking back to Polly. Waiting for the next shout of his name to signify that there was no time left to stall. She waited too, as if to see what would come first.

“Alright.” You agreed before you could really think things through all the way. Could you be at the Garrison tonight?

Finn smiled, eyes alight as he leaned down and placed a kiss against your warm cheek. You bit your lip as he pulled away, looking both happy and mischievous. “I’ll see you tonight.” And then he was hurrying across the street with the loaf of bread tucked beneath his arm.

You kept your promise to go to the Garrison that night after bringing the loaf of bread home and rather furiously trying to find a dress that would like nice out of your limited chest of clothes. A borrowed one from a girl in another caravan who was slightly older and already wed ended up being the one you wore. You thought about asking along a friend or two, not wanting to seem like the desperate, crush-stricken girl who arrives at the Garrison alone in hopes that she’ll catch a Shelby’s eye. But in the end, you wanted whatever time was allotted you and Finn for yourself, not to be shared with others.

When you arrived at the pub it was already crowded though you couldn’t think of a time that it wasn’t. Some hung near the doors as if wanting to leave but ultimately being unable to pull themselves away from the goings on of the congregation gathered. Others occupied tables and barstools, laughing boisterously and chatting at volumes louder than necessary. You ducked between patrons, trying your best to appear confident in your pursuit of the bar. You would need multiple drinks at this point in the evening.

Finn was trying to get out of the house just as you were ordering a gin from the barkeep. He stood in the narrow hallway, hand on the doorknob, listening to Polly tell him that a family meeting was far more important than some girl at a pub.

“I’ve got to go Poll. Not like it matters, they don’t give a shit whether I’m there or not.” Finn argued, his knuckles turning white as his grip tightened. He wanted to scream. Just let me leave this god forsaken house. “I’ll ask Michael for all the important bits.”

“Finn Shelby, Tommy gave strict instruction-” She insisted.

Tell him to shove his instruction up his ass. “I’ll be back later.” Why should he sit through an evening of listening to Arthur belittle him in front of the family?

Cap in hand, he made a record sprint to the Garrison, slipping into the pub and spotting you at the bar. You were sipping on a gin and your eyes shifted nervously over the patrons as you scanned the room for his arrival. When you caught sight of his tall form by the door your eyes lit up with a smile and he nearly collapsed from the feeling in his chest. Wouldn’t it be nice to always see such a smile? Finn made his way to the bar, stepping between your barstool and the one beside it as he angled his body toward you.

“Sorry I’m late, a bit of family business needed clearing up.” There was that devilish smirk again as if he was so vital to family business that he would even been noticed in the room. You were none the wiser though and only nodded at his excuse for being held up. He wouldn’t admit to being a petulant child throwing a tantrum in the front hall at the thought of not being allowed out of the house.

“That’s alright, I would’ve understood.” You reply, doing your best version of a reassuring glance his way as you sipped on your gin. The truth being that you would never have understood and would likely have gone home gutted, too embarrassed at being stood up by a Shelby that you would never show your face in Small Heath ever again.

Finn tapped the wooden counter as the barkeep passed by and requested a glass of whiskey. “Nonsense.” His free hand went to the backrest of your chair and when you leaned back just slightly you could feel his warm skin against you, even through the dress. He looked over his shoulder, surveying the parties in the Garrison before settling on the door of the private room. “Want to go somewhere quieter?” He asked.

“You’ve only just ordered your drink.” You replied, not having noticed his appraisal of the room.

“We’re not leaving the Garrison, here, I’ll show you,” and his hand slipped off the stool and onto the small of your back, pressing you gently to stand. Even when you did he only removed his hand for a fraction of a second as you stepped out from the bar with him, your gin in his other hand. He walked with you, steering you toward the private room and giving the same devilish smirk as earlier when he opened the door and found it empty. “Go ahead.”

“Are we allowed in here?” You questioned though you went in anyway.

“Course, my brother owns the place.” Finn replied though truth be told they had been allowed in this room since before Arthur had bought the Garrison. This room was always set aside for Shelby business.

The window to the bar opened and the barkeep left Finn’s whiskey on the ledge which you retrieved for him, bringing it over with you to the table and taking a small sip. He liked the way you held the glass from the top, almost unsure, and sipped at the liquor. Your face scrunched up and Finn smiled as he switched drinks with you, sitting down beside you on the bench and stretching his arm across the back the same way Arthur always did. Gave him an air of authority, so Linda said.

“Not quite for me, think I’ll stay with the gin.” You grimaced, taking your glass back. You smoothed your dress over your knees, pressed close together as you tried to calm the beating of your heart. Finn was right beside you, at any moment his arm could slip down, land on your shoulder and draw you closer. A friend of a friend had a boy do that at the picture-house and she said he kissed her when she turned his way. You should certainly like to kiss Finn, if it were to come down to it, but you weren’t sure he was interested in that just yet. Perhaps he was only being casual. Surely men sat like that always?

Finn smiled and tipped the glass to his lips as he drank down the contents. It burned his throat on the way down but he’d done this show of bravado enough times in front of Michael and Isaiah that he hardly flinched. At the same time that he set his glass on the table his arm slipped down over your shoulders and you scooted just a centimeter closer, feeling the way his knee pressed against yours when he spread his legs.

“Do you live in Small Heath? I feel bad asking I just haven’t seen you around much.” Finn leaned just so, turning almost into you as he asked. If it wasn’t for the warmth of his body against yours the question might have embarrassed you. Had he really never noticed?

“I live just out of town.” Was all you would give up for now. Gypsy girls were good enough for business deals with Shelbys who had too many children but that was not Finn. The youngest Shelby, heir to the name and the title and the business. Too old for his age but too young to be taken seriously by his brothers. “Did the bread work out for you? I hope you didn’t get in too much trouble.”

“None.” he smiled, the light hearted smile of a boy with a million secrets as he leaned close to you, “besides, it would have been worth getting my ears boxed just meeting you."

The warmth in your face spread down to your chest at his words. As smooth with ladies as his brothers but you didn’t let that stop you from falling prey to his flattery. You smiled behind your glass of gin, letting it rest on your lower lip for a mere second before taking a sip. Finn’s eyes travelled to your lips and he licked his own as the alcohol passed between yours.

Polly had impeccable timing which was the sole reason she had opened the door to the betting shop at the exact same time as you and Finn approached on the other side of the street. He may not have recognized you but she did. You had been just a girl at Esme and John’s wedding, playing near the fire with the others, dirt on your special occasion dress. She was almost surprised to see you grown. You assimilated better than the rest of your kin, if she didn’t know you she never would’ve guessed that you were a gypsy. But she did know you, knew all the trouble Esme had caused, all the trouble being half-gypsy caused Tommy and she was damned if she would have her youngest chasing your skirt. So she bellowed for him, looking as intimidating as possible and hoping that she could scare you away.

Go home, she wanted to yell, keep your troubles from my family.

“Let me walk you home?” Finn asked, arm still draped around your shoulders as he led you out of the pub. He was somehow closer walking beside than he had been sitting in the booth with you though you couldn’t think of any reason to complain about the proximity.

“It’s rather far.” You replied quickly, the verbal equivalent of pulling away. You couldn’t imagine him walking you to a field of caravans down by the river bank. The combination of embarrassment and gin fuddled your mind and you nearly lost your footing on a stone but Finn’s arm dropped to your waist and his hand tightened against your hip, keeping you upright and close.

“Alright there?” He asked, concern evident in his tone though it was too dark to see his features.

You must have polished off an entire bottle of gin while he worked his way through whiskeys. It was a feat in itself that the two of you were managing to walk upright and converse at the same time. “Fine.”

“So, let me walk you to my house then?” He asked, cheeky grin nestling at your neck as you felt him lay a kiss there that gave you goosebumps the length of your body. “It’s close.”

“I don’t want to disturb your family.” You replied, voicing your fear. It was the only one you could think of. Despite the alcohol you felt that you were sane enough of mind to make un-regrettable decisions and you remembered another older girl from camp once telling you that when the time for things was right you would know. At the time the ‘things’ she spoke of felt ominous and you didn’t understand but time had passed enough that you were acutely aware of the ‘things’ and knew that Finn was a lovely choice for a ready evening. Though the panic of overthinking settled too, asking if he was asking because he wanted you and liked you or if you were pretty and just another girl. You’d heard stories of the Shelby boys and their conquests. Even John was not free from tales.

“It’s only Polly and she’ll never wake up, I swear.” Finn crossed his heart backwards and just a little crooked, laughing as he did. He leaned too far and you stumbled trying to keep him steady but he managed to right himself.

His arm unwound from your waist so that he could grasp your hand and lead you across the street to his house on Watery Lane. He kept looking back to you, smiling with such a boyish charm that it made your heart flutter. He placed the sweetest of kisses on your lips as you stood at the bottom of the stairs together and you couldn’t find it in your heart to categorize the sensation as eager. It was only loving.

You followed him up the stairs and down the hall to a plain, greenish door that he pushed open to reveal the small room he slept in. The inside was roughly the size of your family’s whole caravan but he looked like he thought it was modest. Outside of Small Heath meant the country and the country meant sprawling estates like the one that Tommy owned. And estates meant large, grandiose rooms that Finn could only dream of spending more than a night in. You liked the room though and the bedspread that looked as if someone had sewn each sqaure of fabric together by hand.

You took a cautious seat on the edge of the small bed, pressed up against the wall beside the single window in the room. Your hands smooth over the bedspread as you sit there, looking at the lap of your dress as you wait for whatever might come next. Would he kiss you? Were you supposed to kiss him? The flush of his cheeks disappeared into the red stubble on the nape of his neck and disguised the freckles on your face.

He moved across the room with less confidence than he had displayed in the Garrison. You weren’t sure if it was because he was no longer in public, acutely aware of the people watching his every move or if it was the alcohol in his system making him appear so nervous but either way there was something terribly endearing about it.

“So,” you shifted toward him, placing a hand over his on the bedspread.

“We could...” Finn trailed off, leaning toward you. The hand that wasn’t now holding yours settled on your waist as his eyes closed and his lips pressed against yours. Chapped but still moist, either from the whiskey or his nervous constant licking of them. You kissed back, unsure what to do with your hands. You continued to hold his but your other rested awkwardly on your lap as Finn attempted to deepen the kiss. His tongue ran across your bottom lip and you gasped at the sensation. When his tongue went into your mouth you yelped and bit down just enough to make him bang his forehead against yours in surprise.

You scooted away from him, face warm with embarrassment and hands covering your eyes. “I’m so sorry!” You mumbled behind your hands, peeking up at him.

Finn had his tongue out and was trying to look cross-eyed at the damage you’d done to him. When you caught sight of him you couldn’t help the girlish giggle that passed your lips. You kneeled up on the bed and leaned toward him, “let me see?”

“I’ve had worse.” He assured though his tongue hurt and he definitely couldn’t think of the worse that he’d had right now.

“Can I do anything?” You offered, “I feel terrible.”

“Nah, it’s alright. I’m going to get the whiskey from the kitchen though, should help right?”

“I have no idea.” You laughed. Then hesitantly, “should I go?”

“What? No! Of course not!” He insisted, placing his hands on your shoulders and guiding you to sit on the edge of the bed again. He kissed your forehead and then smiled, “I’ll be right back, more whiskey? We can chat some.”

You woke in the morning still in your dress, the fabric twisted around your middle and legs from turning in your sleep. Your face rested against Finn’s side and his arm was above your head. Careful not to wake him but closed in on the bed you sat up, getting to your knees and cautiously climbing over him. Finn’s snoring stopped for the briefest moment and you paused, one foot still on the bed, waiting for him to open his eyes. Instead he just turned over in his sleep. With both feet off the ground you untwisted your dress, fixing it and your slip around yourself so that it didn’t appear you’d spent the entire night sleeping in the garment.

Before you could get to the door it was flung open, startling you and causing Finn to sit up suddenly in bed, hands scrambling for the gun that was typically under his pillow. Tommy stood in the doorway, surveying the both of you skeptically. “Emergency family meeting. Lose the whore.”

“She’s not a whore Tommy!” Finn shouted after his brother as the door closed. He slumped back over the bed, head resting against his forearms. “I apologize for him.”

“It’s alright. I understand, it must look...” You trailed off, waving a hand over the room as if to say he must’ve thought I had sex with you.

“It’s not that. He’s daft sometimes, even Polly says so.” Finn replied, climbing off the bed and grabbing his vest top off the floor. He pulled his shirt out and undid his pants in order to tuck the shirt back in. Not sure what to do you stood there watching him, your eyes followed the skilled movement of his hands as he folded the shirt into his pants. Once secured he did up his trousers once more and you watched the nimble way his fingers buttoned each button on his vest. Looking up Finn caught your line of sight, smiling. “If you’ll wait I’d love to take you home?”

“Alright.” You couldn’t help agreeing, letting him kiss you one last time before he was disappearing out the bedroom door. You sat down on the quilted bedspread again and listened to his footsteps down the stairs.

It felt odd sitting in someone else’s room by yourself but you didn’t want to chance leaving before Finn returned. Both because he looked hopeful about walking you home and because you were afraid you’d accidentally walk in on them discussing business. There wasn’t too much that you knew about the Blinders but you were sure overhearing important business information could definitely get you in loads of trouble.

While they were downstairs your curiosity got the best of you and you stood, walking over to the trunk in the corner and opening it. A few slacks and shirts, like the ones he’d changed into, a gun, and another cap. You’d seen plenty of guns in your life, they were a common commodity amongst the caravans but you’d never actually held one before. This one looked a bit older than those you were used to and not quite as used as the one you’d seen on Finn’s night table. He had nothing scholarly in his room and little in the way of entertainment. You had heard from Johnny Dogs that all the Shelby’s were pretty smart, even the oldest Arthur though you didn’t know him to know why not being smart mattered. You closed the trunk and changed directions, deciding to make the bed while you waited.

Nothing but talking had come of the night before, just as Finn promised. It wasn’t that you were opposed just that you didn’t want him thinking you were easy or thinking that maybe this was something casual when you wanted desperately for it to be more than that. You’d resisted the urge to throw caution to the wind and sleep with him but he’d seemed perfectly content with polishing off the last of Polly’s whiskey and lounging in bed with you until you’d both fallen asleep.

“Don’t know why they make such a fucking deal outta me going to those bloody meetings. Not like they care worth a penny.” Finn grumbled as he opened and shut the door. You had just finished tucking in the left end corner of the bed and jumped a little at his sudden arrival.

“Sorry?” You asked.

“Oh!” Finn looked as if he’d forgotten you were there and honestly, for just a moment, he had. He was so bothered with his brothers, between Tommy’s dumb comment that morning and then him being looked over and teased throughout the meeting, he was livid and completely forgot that he had company sitting up in his room. “Sorry I-did you make the bed?”

“Well I wasn’t sure what to do and it was mussed so I thought...why not?” You teetered on uncertainty, rocking back on the heels of your stocking feet.

Finn smiled, catching your elbow and pulling you closer to lay a kiss on your forehead and then your lips. “Thank you, that’s awfully kind.”

“You’re welcome.”

“Let me walk you home.” He announced, pulling himself away and going to get his shoes from beside the door. He handed yours over as well and you took a seat on the freshly made bed as you begun to do up your boots. Finn sat on the floor, back against the wall and looking up at you every few seconds with a smile. He looked happy, genuinely so, and the smile was seemingly contagious because you couldn’t help yourself from smiling back at him.

Neither Polly nor Tommy said a word as you followed Finn down the stairs into the narrow hallway, though both stood at the kitchen entrance watching you. Finn kept his hand in yours as he led you out of the house and back onto Watery Lane. It was morning now, much brighter now than it had been when he was walking you home the night before. You squeezed his hand and held his arm with your other, too confident being on his arm to be bothered that you were wearing your dress from the previous night. Word, of course, would get around Small Heath until everyone was talking about Another Shelby brother getting mixed up with the gypsies. For right now though it was new and the news had not yet made it’s cycle as you walked with him.

“Come here,” Finn beckoned, turning his head to smile at you as he led you around a corner abruptly.

“I thought we were walking me home?” You asked, frowning just the slightest as he released your hand from his. He came up behind you and covered your eyes, “Finn what’re you doing?”

“I’ve got a surprise.” He nudged you to walk further into the alley and you complied, careful in your steps until finally he held you firm, “here we are.”

With your eyes uncovered you saw that you were standing before a car. You had seen automobiles before though you’d never had the chance to ride in one. Even when Johnny Dogs had one on loan from the brothers he never let anyone ride in it except those he was doing business with. You knew of other gypsies that had cars but your small clan had remained carless. You looked back to Finn who was smiling happily down at you, clearly proud of himself.

“I swiped the keys during the business meeting, figured I’d give you a proper drive home.” He announced, holding up the key so that you could see it.

“I’m not that far outside of Small Heath really, you didn’t need to go to all this trouble.”

“Well,” Finn shrugged and moved forward to open the passenger door to you, “I’ll warn you I’m always mixing up directions, may take us a bit longer to get home.” The cheeky grin was back and you giggled like a school girl at the implication.

“That’d be alright.” You let him help you into the car, a kiss on his cheek before he closed the door.

The wind raced through your hair as Finn sped down the country road. Every bump sent you jostling in your seat and you couldn’t help laughing. Somehow this felt like the most fun you’d had in ages. He was looking between the road and you, each time his smile growing as he met your eyes. You reached across the bench and grabbed his forearm as he hit a particularly awful bump that sent you off your seat. You let out a shriek and Finn brought the car to a halt, falling into laughter as he leaned his head against the steering wheel. Your head fell back against the set as you tried to collect your breathing.

“I think I’ve been jostled enough for one afternoon.” You laughed.

“I’m not the one who lives so far outside of town.” He teased, the ever present smile on his face as he leaned over and kissed your cheek.

“We’re well passed where I live by now.” You replied, mock indignation lighting your voice. “You’re just wasting time.”

“Naturally, it’ll break my heart to see you go.”

“You’re such a tease Finn,” you shifted in your seat so that you could see him better.

“I’m not teasing.” He announced, “And I’d like to see you again. Tomorrow? Or tonight possibly?”

“I was thinking of going to the Garrison.”

“Perfect.”

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#finn shelby x reader #finn shelby imagine #finn Shelby fanfiction #Finn Shelby fanfic #peaky blinders imagine #peaky blinders fanfiction #peaky blinders fanfic #collecting stories imagine #cs discography series

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eagesoldartblog · 4 years

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Pay it Forward Chapter three: Cakes

Lewis crouches down, his gaze glued to the oven as he watches the batter slowly rise. It was a rather small cake, but it would have to do. Considering it was such a short amount of time from when Arthur would supposedly arrive. And even more stressing- he didn't know what other ingredients his parents needed for his party tomorrow.

On top of all of that, the girls would be home soon, and he wanted nothing more than to spend some time with them. They had tried to stay up a few nights due to him miscalculating when he would have arrived home, just to see him when he got home! They deserved to have more attention directed to them specifically.

Coincidentally, just as quickly as the thought came, Lewis had glanced up and peered through the connected living room, through the window, allowing him to notice the familiar shape of the car. A smile stretching across his face, Lewis slips out of the kitchen and makes his way to the back door. He waited a few seconds, attempting to hide behind the small door. Just a little longer. Make the surprise all that more sweeter.

And he flung the door open.

A gasp, “Lewis!!” Paprika’s bubbly voice is the first one he hears, and he ducks down and steps out- nearly smacking Cayenne who had been positioned at the door.

He quickly snatched her up too, “Lew-!” Cayenne half screeched. Wriggling her tiny body to slip away from him, but it was already too late, A choked whine being squeezed out of her as Lewis hugged her tightly. Only compress more as Paprika scrambled up the steps and leapt into his arms. Singing a cacophony of Lew-lew that made his heart soar.

“Ack! Let go!!” Small hands press to his cheek, Belonging to the one and only Cayenne. Who Lewis loosened his grip for, allowing her to wriggle out.

She glares at his happy grin, and then lightly bonks his forehead.

“Ow, I missed you too.” Lewis laughed, standing to his full height- with Paprika snuggled against his shoulder- earning the shortest snort.

Cayenne didn’t care, grumbling a small, “Yeah yeah,” walking away from him, yet making a note to toss a quick, “how was your crash?” over her shoulder.

“Crash?” Paprika pushes herself away from her hug, eyes popping out of her skull. Eyebrows furrowed, Lewis cursed his little sister and opened his mouth to comfort her,

“About th-”

“It's alright, Paprika,” Mama interjects, a hand stroking the little girls hair, “Lewis is safe, otherwise he wouldn’t be here to hug you right now.”

Her mouth was still set with a deep frown, interestingly looking from Mama to him, before reluctantly laying her head on his shoulder. Placing a kiss on her forehead, Lewis whispered, “Hey, I’m making some cake right now, but I haven't been able to start the frosting. Would you like to help me do that?” He asks, piquing her interest immediately.

“Can I?”

“Of course,” Lewis laughs, holding open the door for Mama and following her soon after, tickling Paprika into hysterics, “You know I always need the sweetest girls opinion on my frosting! How else will I know if they’re up to standard?”

She bursts into giggles as he pokes her sides, flailing her tiny arms and attempting to wriggle them out of her backpack straps. “Wait-!! Let me-” She squeals, and Lewis swiftly plants her on her feet, whisking the backpack off her back.

“Make sure to take off your shoes,” Lewis says, dropping the backpack onto the couch next to Belle, “Then meet me in the kitchen after you wash your hands.” She skitters off to the back door, shouting a small response as Lewis finds himself waltzing back to the kitchen. Crouching down, he eyes the batter, and the checks the timer. With an even bigger smile, he fishes for a toothpick to check its consistency.

If it's ready soon, I can let it cool for a while as we make frosting, and then soon after it’ll be in the best shape for decorating! Lewis nearly fist bumps over the achievement. However, small footsteps clatter over, Paprika leaping to hug his leg and bouncing on her heels.

She gives him a giant grin, “Let's start!!”

Humming a small tune, Lewis ruffles his thick fingers through her curly hair, “Alright, now let’s not get ahead of ourselves. First, I need some butter, powdered sugar, and milk. Can you grab that-...” He trails off, eyebrows raised with amusement as Paprika bounces away from him to the fridge, yanking it open loud enough that Belle noticeably flinches from the living room. Hearing her call out, Lewis leans out to dismiss her worries. Then, hearing a small gasp.

“Lewis!” Paprika’s voice strains, he peers over just in time to see her scaling the inside of the refrigerator, holding one of the drawers as it dangerously slides out—

Nearly diving, Lewis snags her by her arms and shuts the drawer with one fell swoop. He frowns, “Pap’, you gotta be more careful.”

She curls his knees up by a mere fraction, clutching the milk jug close to her chest and whining, “I’m sorry..”

“It’s alright,” he said, setting her down and grabbing the butter and milk from her hands and places them delicately on the surface. Before he turns back to her and crouches down, “Wanna help me grab the vanilla and powdered sugar?”

Eyes lighting up, she nods quickly, grinning ear to ear and turning around. Just on cue for Lewis to swoop her up and get her settled on his shoulders- crouching of course, even more so that usual to ensure she didn’t bump her head. They open the cabinet, Paprika pointing out the bag of sugar and the small bottle of vanilla extract, and finally she was put down. Skipping, she pulls out a large bowl from the bottom shelves and struggles to squeeze it into the more cluttered space.

“Fetch your stool, Pap, I don’t want you falling again.”

“Okay!” And with that, she darts off, leaving Lewis with ample time to mix in the butter and sugar, and prepare the milk and extract for Paprika to add. He wouldn’t have noticed her returning if she didn’t let out a small sing- song laugh, “Lewis?”

“Yes, Reinita?”

Paprika lightly kicks the floor, “Can we make some pink frosting? I wanna put some hearts for uncle Arthur!”

Lewis halts his stirring, turning around to face her, “Uncle..?”

Bouncing on her heels, she gives him a full smile, “Yeah! Mamá told us you were making a cake for him! I wanna add something too!”

Eyebrows furrowed, Lewis stares down at the little girl with dumbfoundment etched into his face. An expression Paprika quickly picked up on and flinches away, frowning.

“Or not..”

“No, no,” Lewis clears his throat, face flushed, “how... Do you know Arthur?” He asks, feeling that was the safest route to go down with his tiny sister, to gauge just what she knows. Face lighting up in the usual shy and bashful way, Paprika mumbles out-

“Mamá y papá needed a baby sister while you were away at school, Arthur has been looking over us a lot.” The more and more she talked about him, the brighter she became, “He even lets me help him with the cars!”

Lewis, still at a loss for words, nods his head and forces a small smile, “Is.. that so? Do you plan to become a mechanic one day?”

“Yeah! I think it would be really fun! Arthur taught me how to change oil and batteries and even how to use a tire!” Use a tire? She must have meant that she knows how to fix them, Lewis thought, humming to himself as he pictures the situation, stomach dropping at he imagines it being a seriously dangerous place..

Shaking his head lightly, Lewis snags to stool and sets it up, “You should have told me, you and I could have fixed up our car even faster.”

“You think so?”

“I know so!” Lewis hums, scooping her up in his arms and plopping her in her place, “now, can you help me with this?”

“Here,” Lewis says, holding up a spoon, coated in a thick glob of white sugary frosting. Paprika shimmies close and wipes a small bit onto her finger, tasting in and humming with delight.

She beams, “It's really good! Arthur will like it a lot!” Sticking out her hand, Lewis lightly high-fives her.

“I’m glad to here, I’m sure he’d be happy to know that you helped me!” He presses his fingers against her ribs and watches as she giggles and squirms, “Now.. what do we need now? To make the frosting pretty colors?”

Pausing to think, she glances around the kitchen and lands on the covers.

“Four bowls, and… food coloring.”

Lewis marches over, a tad bit more dramatic and performative so that way she would giggle and laugh some more- to which he succeeded.

“What colors do I need to grab?” He asks, fingers already grazing across the five or four… Should it be simple or more decorative-?

“Uh… pink, orange, er… green? Oh! And yellow!”

Green? Hm, that would be interesting, “Where’s the green coming from?”

“Green for grass! We could go green grass along to bottom and then… tires? For cars!” She exclaims, and Lewis smiles a small bit, snagging the black and gray color dye as well.

“Clever, I think he’ll be fond of that, don’t ya think?”

“Yes yes!”

Soon enough, the four different colors were ready. Paprika and him spent over thirty minutes frosting and decorating the cake. She added the hearts she wanted and some sloppy tires bouncing along the sides, and Lewis puts a cursive ‘thank you’ along the top, along with a wrench design around it. Then along the top Paprika and him both dot it with the orange frosting. Making it resemble a childish tower more than anything else.

Upon completion, Lewis let’s out a soft sigh, ruffling Paprika’s hair, “Nice work, Reinita. Let’s go wash our hands and let Papa prepare dinner.” She nods in agreement and leaps off her stool, to which Lewis takes and shuffles out of the way of his Papa, putting it away before grabbing the cakes tray and placing it on the top shelf of the fridge.

Quietly, he murmurs to himself, “I hope he likes it..”

“I’m sure he will,” his father's unusually upbeat voice makes him flinch, and he glances over to him.

“Are you sure? I don’t want to… I don’t know..” he trailed off, still unsure of how to handle this situation and this peculiar man, he couldn’t wrap his head around it. Receiving a quick and light pat on his back.

Papa smiles up at him, “It’s alright, everything will be okay. You have nothing to worry about right now. It’s only four right now, you why don’t you go and relax for a little while. I’ll call you when he gets here and then you two can talk it out.

He would rather he not show up at all, but if you insist.. Lewis nodded obediently, side stepping his way out of the kitchen and down the hall to his room.

It’ll be no good to talk to him if he’s not well rested, Lewis figures. Slipping into his room, he changes out of his binder into a sports bra, and lays himself across his pillows and blankets. Peering out of the window into the cool summer air, a light breeze flowing in. His exhaustion finally catches up to him.

When he opened his eyes, there were streaks of yellows, pinks and reds lining the sky. Blinking rapidly, Lewis pushes himself up, gazing out and seeing the sun was beginning to set. Blinking harder- as if it would help him focus and recollect his thoughts- he whips his head over to the clock and spots the red dotted outline of - 6:57?! Since when-!!

Shoving himself even more, and ignoring the acute sharp pains in his back and arms from suddenly jostling his body, he brings himself to his feet and slips them hurriedly into his slippers. Rushing out of the room as one thought spiraled after another. All of which, equally ridiculous and somewhat dumb, all revolving around that one dumb mechanic who’s had him in stitches all day!

Popping into the living room, the first thing Lewis noticed was that Cayenne was on her phone instead of reading the book in her lap on the couch. Paprika was playing with her dolls and half paying attention to the ‘How It’s Made’ show displaying on the Tv. And Belle was nowhere to be seen.

Except, he finally noticed her through the side- window, carrying something from a low rumbling van parked beside the house and…

Whose… whose van was that? The garish orange reminding him of-

The back door opens, and he turns back just in time to see Belle shuffle in with a giant bag, and Arthur holding the door open with his own bags.

“Easy..”

“I got it, Arthur!” She spats back at him, glaring under her fuzzy hair, “I’ll go put these in Lew’s room, you shove your stuff in the living room.” Arthur nods, hobbling in after her, and his eyes rise to meet Lewis’s, Belle went on, “Be quiet, though, Lew’s taking a nap and he doesn’t know you’re staying the night. It’s a surprise.” She hisses through her teeth, dramatically shushing the much taller mechanic, who suppressed a chuckle and let his gaze fall back to Belle.

“Wanna bet?” He says, grinning mischievously, and he shoots Lewis a look to have him play along.

“Bet what?”

“That he knows I’m here, of course!” He’s grinning, and Lewis takes a step to the side and out of view, half tempted to duck into the bathroom and escape that way. Wait- why is he even -

“Hm… no deal.”

“What? You wound me!”

“You’re too sneaky! I can’t trust anything you do.” Belle is now moving down the hall and toward where Lewis was, the crinkling of her bag hardly doing a thing to help her sneak about.

“Well, I guess that’s your issue then, isn’t it? If you catch Lewis on your way out, let him know I’m here, Kay?” He says, walking a bit faster than Belle, and with a few quick strides, Arthur slips past the opening of the hall and sends Lewis a giant grin.

One which has his heart.. racing? What-!

Belle’s voice snaps him out of it, “Aw shit,” she slumps over, groaning slightly. And dodging the quick smack from Lewis as he realizes what she said.

“Ey, watch your mouth,” Lewis scolds, tongue tripping up as his gaze lingers on Arthur walking out of sight and rousing the attention of his other two sisters, “Mamá wouldn’t be pleased to hear you speaking the devil’s tongue.”

Groaning, she swipes his hand away before heaving up the giant bag of- was that Sailor Moon? “Who do you think I got it from? Mamá’s just as bad as the mechanics at the shop!” She tries slipping past him, and Lewis has half a mind to ask her what she was doing carrying it around but-

Kneeling down, and blocking her path much to Belle’s dismay, Lewis quickly whispers, “Why is he staying the night-?”

She grimaces, attempting to readjust her grip before Lewis takes it from her, getting more of a look- figurines? “Mama said you’d like having a friend over, so he came over.”

Far from enlightening, but he couldn’t get out a single question from his myriad before the lanky blond steps into view again. A half smile quirked over his face, and all of his words froze in his throat.

“What’s up, Lewis?” His eyes crinkle from how he smiles, hair bobbing the smallest bit, “I guess the cats out of the bag. Your mom and dad asked me to help out for tomorrow's party, and they wanted me to stick around to keep you company tonight.” Such a light hearted attitude. His voice was the smallest bit gravely and… tired? It matched the shadows under his eyes and-

Finally, Lewis manages to choke out, “-I made you a cake.”

Arthur blinks, sputtering into a light laugh, “What for-?”

“As thank you,” gaze darting from the living room and back to Arthur, his mind going in circles, it suddenly occurred to him how dumb he felt holding the bag- a present? Come ON- so close to his chest. There’s a lump in his throat that he couldn’t wallow back before he spins on his heels and dumps the crinkly bag on his bed and nearly runs Arthur down trying to slip past him.

Arthur snags his shirt and trails after him. An action which should really be making him pause and question why he felt it was okay. If not for the fact that it felt… natural? However that worked, Lewis didn’t take the time to figure out. Instead he focuses on retrieving the cake and praying he doesn't accidentally throw it in Arthur's face.

“Its for the car-” he quickly explains, “I- I still don’t know how to feel about it but- I'm very grateful and-” His words clash and slide into one another, becoming a mess right before his very eyes. Even Arthur was having trouble keeping up! Heart shaped eyebrows quirking up and mouth twisted with confusion. Soon, finally Lewis presses his lips together and shoves the cake into Arthurs chest. Stilling as those amber eyes drop to the work.

Slowly, his quirked smile draws against his face as he takes in all of the details, “Lewis, you didn’t have to do anything for me..”

“I- I know, but-” Wait why did he sound like that- “I didn’t- it only seemed right to do something for you as well, I wasn’t- it's not every day that you just- have your car paid off by a stranger-”

Somehow, Lewis could tell that wasn’t the right thing to say. Arthurs eyebrows drop, smile faltering into something that didn’t look correct on him-

“ARTIE!”

Both men jump with surprise, turning back just in time to see Paprika leap from the ground and latching onto Arthurs arm. He responds surprisingly quick, passing the cake back to Lewis and lifting her up with ease, making a small comment on how heavy and big she is as he pulls her into a hug.

“Did you see the hearts-? Lewis let me add them-” She excitedly buzzes, not noticing the smallest hint of disappointment in Arthur's eyes before he grins back at her.

“Well they’re absolutely adorable! It really ties in the scene! I bet it tastes really good too..”

She nods, full of excitement, eyes lifting up to Lewis- who hardly found himself out of the sea of confusion he’s been casted into. “Lew, Lew, can we cut up the cake now?”

“I-.. why don’t you ask Arth- Artie? I’m sure he’d love to share if you say please…”

Almost immediately she was bombarding him with the same question.

Soon, the cake is cut. Three plates for the girls, and two for them, the rest of the cake re-wrapped and placed into the fridge because his parents didn’t want any.

The night went by both way too quickly and way too slow.

Lewis couldn’t make out how he felt about his… friend..

Much later, the blankets are set, and Lewis and Arthur are now left alone in the living room while the girls are ushered into bed.

Lewis honestly would have felt so much better had they been on the couch. There would be ample room, seats you generally don’t cross without your intentions being known. But the floor? That is free terrain. It’s colder down here so one would naturally assume that someone sitting close is for warmth and not-

“Lewis?” His eyes widen, choking as he draws his glass away from his lips and nearly dumping the wine down his shirt. How long has he been drinking-? This is ridiculous!

Anxiously pressing a hand to his mouth, Lewis forces the bitter alcohol down his throat and an even bigger smile- coming off as strained, “Yes?”

Arthur quirks his brow, “You okay, dude? You’ve been guzzling that ever since your ma’ broke out a bottle.”

…. He’s right about that… Lewis peers over at Arthurs glass and sees he has barely drank half of it. One quick inspection immediately proves that his entire glass is empty now.

Wow. Well, That's an interesting development. He ponders, getting up to refill the glass (which he hopefully wouldn’t drink more of..) and sitting back down just as quickly.

“...Sorry, Arthur. That was my fault.. uh.. please don’t pay too much mind to me.” His cheeks are warm.. goodness why is he so nervous?

If Arthur still had something else to say, he doesn’t start. Simply readjusting his legs and taking a long sip of his wine, quickly coming up to speed with Lewis. Coughing lightly when it finally catches up to him.

The silence is unnerving, and worsening by the second. Silent all for the screaming of his thoughts running in circles.

Saying something, something, “So, Arthur. That bag you brought..” where was he going with this? “Was- are those things for me?”

He snorts, slouching over, “Well it’s not like I’d get it for Paprika or like- Cayenne.”

“So you did get me a bunch of gifts..” He sighs, disliking the implication even more. Gaze shifting over to the cases of Sailor Moon mined by the Tv, the illumination reflecting nicely off the casing. High quality… Lewis gnaws on his lip.

“And if I did..?” Arthur's voice stuns him out of his spur, glancing back over to Arthur. The light casting sparkling rays over his hair, making him look radiant.

Stop it.

Arthur lets out an airy laugh, The coolness of the crackled window allows in a soft breeze, rustling his hair and making him all the more cooler as he droops over his own knee, “I’ve been trying to find you a bunch, so you can take it back with you.”

“To school?” The heartwarming sentiment is joined by a pesky lingering confusion, doubt… hovering around them like smoke from a candle. Smokey and like coffee..

“For your dorm room.”

“I’ll just have to…” a smile slowly crawls over his face, holding up his glass closer, the aroma filling his head with a tingly feeling, or perhaps his gulping was finally getting to him, “I’ll just have to make more cake for you.”

An elbow hits his side, jolting electricity through his nerves, and the action has him fumbling and nearly spilling his drink again. “Hey, I wouldn't mind that,” Arthur says, his quirky smile back- reminding Lewis that he probably didn’t mean to startle him so much. Nor did he notice, unless that's what his chuckling was for, “I’ve always loved the things you make- although if you do, you should use more of your usual spices.”

“Huh?” The world fogs and smears into a single blur of color when he turns his head. Eyes landing on the blond locks. Lewis’s throat dries, and he swallows and tries to focus even more on him.

Arthur’s a lot touchier now.. “It was kinda- ya’know- uh- don’ take this the wrong way, but it was kinda- bland with how standard it was. Delicious as it was.” Part of Lewis informs him that he should be offended, but the coffee scent surrounds his head again, and he doesn’t think to mind it. Arthur shivers, snatching the blanket and twisting it around his shoulders, “I like the spiciness of your stuff, it's like your parents but- you.”

Blinking slowly- when did his eyelids become so heavy?- Lewis hums, his voice rolling against his vocal chords, “You probably are- I haven’t been cooking in a while, I still haven’t been back for more than a day, so-”

“Nah,” Arthur interrupts him, spinning on his rear end and crossing his legs, eyes pinned to him, “I'm talking about you. Hell, even your chocolatey stuff is- well- spicy.. Uh- its like- jokohilo-”

“Jolokia,” Lewis sips his wine expectantly, eyes glazed over, “I didn’t think you .. didn’t peg you for someone who liked ghost peppers..”

“It's an acquired taste,” Arthur says, tilting his head- or swaying, or Lewis was swaying. He pressed himself against the couch to stop that, “Usually I can't handle the stuff- any spices really, even peppermint is hot for me- but you.. I don't know, you make it in a way that's so… balanced!” Arthur scoots forward, bumping their legs together. When.. when did he get so close? Lewis straightens up, mouth falling open as he finally realizes just how close he now is. His shaggy hair falling to the side, and his jaw is rough with aftershave. Prickly- Arthur's face looked unnaturally red, almost feverish, breath coming out heavily.

He looked … glossy- no, determined, in how his bushy eyebrows angle together. A shudder rustles down his back, the coolness of the window is way too cold now.

“Ar-arthur?”

“Lewis,” despite the tinge of red in Arthurs cheeks, he sounded clear, “dont-.. I’m not.. Trying to be weird or anything.”

“Yes?” his teeth clink together roughly.

“Mind if I-- c-can I kiss you..?”

Lewis froze in his place, eyes wide and eyebrows furrowed. His voice and thoughts ran into the ground in a jumble, the only thing coming out was the small rasps of his breath.

And that was enough.

Arthur gulps back noisily, nodding without even really moving as he lifts himself off the ground and shoving himself away. Twisting himself and the blanket and facing the screen again, looking- sad? Blank or angry or- “Sorry ‘bout that, Lew. Just- .. forget about it.”

His throat is tight and lumpy. Scrambling thoughts clash and squish together. Stinging almost. Lewis’s heart refused to stop thumping.

Lewis couldn’t remember falling asleep, but very quickly he was aware of the light shining through his eyelids and making his mind buzz to life. Finally, his eyes flutter open, and sore muscles slowly stretch out and squash against the couch. The bright rays of the sun shine into his eyes. The serene scene of wind rustling trees finally filling his ears and reminding him that he wasn’t the only one in the house. With the blast of a videogame gun jolting him awake.

He twists his head, noting the messy and disheveled bed head of Cayenne right in front of him. Blinking harshly, he lifts up his hand and ruffles the red hair. Earning him a short hiss.

“Ey’ quit it!”

“Go brush your hair,” He hums, a yawn sneaking up his throat and making his shoulders shudder and shake. Squinting against the light, he glares over the room, with the second couch, several plants and flower pots positioned all over and shelves full of pictures of family.

None… of … Arthur?

He pushes himself up, glancing around the living room for any sign of him and peering into the kitchen. Honing his ears, he realizes the only other person awake is Cayenne tearing out her hair. Lewis snags her shirt and directs her to sit in front of him wordlessly, and as she plops down on his feet, he begins to comb through her locks. Finally pushing out the question, “Where.. Cayenne where’d Arth’ go?”

She’s pouting, but glares at him from under her thick mop, “He left an hour ago, didn’t you hear him?”

Blinking, he ignores the white flashing behind his vision and the small headache that pulsates behind his eyes. Before he grinds his palm against one, “Nah, I didn’t even realize he woke up..”

Twisting back, she sends him the most confused glare she could, dripped with annoyance “You were talking to him.”

“... I was..?”

The steam drifts and floats around him, clinging to the wall, his back and shower chair like a sheet, the feeling was more than comforting. Even more so when he slathers his face in soap for the upteenth time. Allowing it all to slip off his chin and drip into his lap. The rhythmic motion doing nothing to distract himself from what was truly on his mind.

His dumb spiky hair with odd stripes, how he somehow manages to be covered in hair yet remain so- cute? No, handsome, he definitely was a good looking fellow- Lewis slaps more soap against his cheeks, huffing.

And worst of all, he refused to get off his mind. The entire night they spent together was put on a repetitive loop, honing and focusing on that one very specific moment.

Humming- or growling- he grinds his teeth and shoves his face under the water stream. To the point where the warmth in his cheeks could have been the result of either the hot shower or the fact that Arthur seemed to be lighting a fire in his head just by existing. His thoughts seemed to revolve around him! Which didn’t make an inch of sense… but…

No. No, can’t be. Lewis isn’t like that. Lewis sternly reminds himself how inappropriate it is. Except, his shoulders falter, and no matter how many times he reminded himself that he should absolutely not be pining over this mechanic, all he would receive is an uncommitted wave of his thoughts hand as they drift back. Why that was a necessary part of the human psyche, he had no idea, and even more so Lewis was half tempted to write a strongly worded letter to himself.

He should call Vivi.

Yes, that would probably be best. Lewis sighs gently through his hands, water spraying to his knees. She always did have a habit of.. well, snapping him out of his ridiculous thinking. Turning off the faucet, Lewis slowly brings himself to stand up and snags his towel, dying off his hair and soon the rest of him. While he slowly slips on his fresh clothing, he plucks his phone off the counter, wipes off its steamed screen, and dials.

If he was lucky, she would be free. If he's not, then she's most likely sleeping, or doing something. Lewis glances at the phone screen, huffing slightly as he sees the minute shift to nine thirty. It's especially likely she was sleeping in still-

”Hello?”

Sighing, lips pulling with relief, “Hello, Vi’, I would hate to bother you right now, do you have a spare second?”

“Shoot. I got all of the seconds to spare.”

“Okay- er… Vivi, have you experienced- uh- love at first sight?” He asks, plopping onto the toilet seat and seating ahead of him expectantly, like she’ll pop out from the bathtub at any minute. Never mind how foolish he felt even asking it,

“Oh ya’, absolutely,” Vivi’s voice is suddenly muffled- eating? Oh, of course she was, she loved eating- “Of course like.. Not an actual person, just food and shit. But- I have. Why?”

Gulping back anxiously, Lewis fiddles with the hem of his shirt, “Don’t laugh-”

Immediately a choked snort ruptures his thoughts, ”No way, don’t tell me- you’re kidding, Lew.”

Groaning miserably, Lewis sinks down, “Unfortunately, no.. im- I have no idea why!” That was a lie, “I met him just yesterday, yesterday and he’s the only one i’ve been thinking about all day and- how creepy is that?”

Moments pass, complete silence, only highlighting the ambient noise of- people speaking and silverware scraping against plates. Thus, reminding Lewis of the many times he caught her awake at six in the morning for the sheer desire of ‘people watching.’ Pah! And she said he was creepy…

Then, she burst out laughing.

“Should I just hang up now, Vi?” He finally asks, frowning tightly as he imagines how delighted she was by this news.

”No, please don’t, I think this is amazing. How can I be of service my dear amigo?”

“How do I make these feelings go away?”

Vivi chokes again, for a different reason if the nervousness meant anything, which, why would she? ”Wait what-?” She sputters, frantically spitting out her words, making them all slide out in a slurred mess, ”Why’dont you want to- why do you wanna stop it?”

“Because!” He nearly shouts, the echo barking back at him and he holds his breath, continuing in a considerably softer tone, “Because, I don’t know him, and I- I don’t want to deal with my infatuations right now.. You know how I got with-”

”With Xavier? I mean- yeah? You were.. Heart broken, but-! That was him, but this is.. Arthur!” The way she said it made his heart skip another beat, “He’s a great dude and he’s really sweet, he’ll treat you extra right- it’ll blossom into a fantastic relationship!”

“... I wish I could think like that, Vivi.. but I-... I upset him last night..” Why did he mention that? The last thing he wanted to do was bring up… that… “I feel like I would only upset him more, since I still have no real idea of how to process these feelings..”

Vivi goes silent again, except for her small chattering, making him sure that she was alone. That was a solitaire Vivi habit if he ever saw one. ”Well.. I mean.. try? Hit him up in a little bit, ask him out. Or- even better- ask him out to dinner! I’m sure he would be over the moon! Heck- make him something to eat, he’ll be head over heels!” She chuckles and giggles as she does so.

“I don’t think he would like that- I mean- I-”

”You think an awful lot, Lew,” Vivi retorts, confident in her voice as Lewis shrinks, resisting the urge to bite his fingernails.

“.. Alright, fine.. I’ll.. call him and ask him out for dinner, but I seriously doubt it-”

”If he rejects you, my phone will be ready and I'll be over in ten minutes for you to cry on my shoulder.”

“... Okay, thank you Vivi.. I will.”

”Alrighty~ Bye bye, Lew lew! I love you~!”

“I love you too, Vi-vi, good bye.”

”Bye.”

She hangs up, leaving Lewis all alone with his thoughts, and he anxiously pulls up the number that Arthur gave him yesterday.

He bites his lip, and presses the dial button. Waiting…

”Hey Lewis, what's up?”

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codyfernmorelikedaddyfern · 5 years

Text

Medicine - Jim x fem!reader // Part Four

This chapter was inspired by the first verse and chorus of James Arthur’s Say You Won’t Let Go.

You can read part One, part Two and part Three here.

Description: As Jim and (Y/N)’s family celebrate his release from the hospital, words are spoken and feelings are left untamed.

Warnings: Mild smut (Dry humping) and feelings. So many feelings. Mention of alcohol and drug abuse ofc. Jim Mason is my favourite little bean and Cody Fern is a beautiful human.

Word count: 2.8k+

Every aching minutes of Jim's stay became bearable whenever (Y/N) was around and luckily for him, she was around whenever she wasn't kicked out of the hospital for staying too much. None of them dared saying the words. “I really like you” or “I want to be with you” were replaced by “you look beautiful” and “I think you're really cool”.

A few kisses were exchanged when the room was quiet of any other presences, some more desperate than other. Some hotter than other. Some more intrusive than other once he shed his doubt and shyness and chased her tongue with his.

Every touches were savoured, their bodies always thankful for the other's attention even when it was just her sitting at the edge of her bed and angering herself during a game of UNO or when he would brush the hair from her face when her she would fall asleep in his arms.

The more they allowed, the more they craved. The brunette cursed himself plenty of times for acting so recklessly, his body not allowing him to satiate the needs they felt burning in their chests. But he also thanked the situation for bringing him in his arms.

He could not get over the way she looked at him whenever their heated embraces would be cut short. That hint of something else in her eyes, he could not pray hard enough for it to be love. But what if it wasn't and they cared too much about each other? That was fine with him as long as she kept her words and stayed by his side.

A couple of days shy of the 4th of July, Jim was finally out of the hospital and his father had his girl's and her family over for dinner to honour his release. No bonfire this time. Just the few of them gathered around table piled with takeaway boxes until both Medina and her friend were offered a celebratory glass of wine.

The kids sat together by the pool once the food had been devoured. The adults remained inside, keeping a quite eye on the teenagers. Rolling up the legs of her trousers and kicking off her shoes, (Y/N) sat by the edge of the pool, the red liquid helping her to reach her tipsy high. After being joined by her boy, she leaned on the broad shoulder to rest her cheek against the denim he seemed to always being wrapped in.

That lovely smile she adored was pulling his lips in her favourite way and for a second, she considered pushing her smile against his mouth to kiss him once more. Oh how she missed it. The intimate taste she grew to love. And for the same second, he wished he didn't care about his father and sister watching their display of affection.

During that second, his hand fell against her knee, pulling her against his legs. She looked up to him while her clumsy stare tried focusing on his eyes.

“Can we go to the beach, please?” (Y/N)'s request was shy and reserved. She just wanted him all for herself, was it so bad? With a bashful nod, he pulled his legs out of the water and walked to open glass door leading back inside of the house to inform the group of adults that they would be sitting in the sand for a bit.

They nodded after the clumsy girl pulled herself out of the water, ready to accompany the boy down the slope she walked up and down so many times before already. They felt reassured he wasn't going to run to his old group of friends that helped with his spiral. She waved to Medina in a silent invitation to join them but the blonde declined, not even making eye contact with her friend before she climbed back in to her bedroom.

Jim held out his hand, aware that the light buzz in his girl's mind would likely get her to tumble down. He felt like she needed his full attention and maybe that's why he let himself spiral down in his twisted need for alcohol. The lack of attention he felt. But now she had his attention and he had hers and he guided her down to the stretch of humid sand.

She plopped down on the floor and extended her arms towards him. Settling down next to her, the contact of their hips helping with the lack of touch that had been shattering their heart throughout the day.

Her fingertips grazed his skin like she had done many times when he laid in his hospital bed. This time, no one was going to knock on the door and their parents were, hopefully, too busy discussing their important matters to ask her to collect her things and come home. Maybe this time, they would be okay with her staying over.

He hoped they would let her stay. He wanted her against him. He wanted too fall asleep and wake up by her side. He wanted her tonight and tomorrow and the days after that. And she wanted it too.

Laying her figure in the sand, he admired her unconventional type of pretty features basking in the moonlight. He remembered the night where he met her in the dark. He drank too much but tonight, he was more sober he had been in months and he was sure she was the most beautiful girl he had ever laid eyes on.

Tipsy stars danced in her (E/C) because it was her turn to have had too much. Drinking her beauty, he was high off of something else tonight and not being able to make her feel it ached in his chest.

“Are you going to kiss me at some point, silly?” her voice teased, pushing a cocky smile on his lips and a scoff out of his chest. “Only if you promise you won't let go of this” his fingers laced with hers, he got lost in the glimmer in her eyes. (Y/N) pulled her pinky in front of his face, wiggling it while waiting for him to hook his to her small digit. “Pinky promise” she whispered, another laugh escaping from his throat while he linked their fingers. His mouth lowered against hers to fulfil her request.

Quickly, the heat spread between their bodies and she found herself crashing on top of him, her thighs parted above his, her tongue desperately fighting Jim's for dominance. And she won her little battle as he crumbled in a soft moan when her hips clumsily grinding against him.

The fire clenched at her belly and his coil tightened and spiralled, too fucking fast for his liking. Jim had been with girls before. He had fucked girls. But once again, this was (Y/N) and she wasn't Heather or the couple of one night stands he slammed into after getting too intoxicated. He didn't even want to fuck her. No. He wanted to lover her. Desperately.

He wrapped his hot arms around the small of her back, twisting their bodies to assert his own dominance. She was the better kisser but he prayed to be the better lover. She allowed a small yelp to pass her lips when he pulled from her burning body to adjusted himself in his boxers. His hips joined hers, pushing against her core.

She had never felt this way before. She had never moaned like this before. Never gripped his arms like this. The fluttering of the butterflies were gone, replace by a burning flame and the only thing she wanted was to let it engulf her and combust against Jim.

His fist wrapped in the sand, suddenly aware of his approaching climax. What was happening? He had never felt his release shatter so quickly before. It was just because it was her and she was against him. He didn't feel the need to pull on her hair, smack his hand across her arse or choke her to get his rocks on. He needed her. Only her.

As she mewled and whimpered under him, he hoped he needed her too. Another heated kiss, another occasion for his tongue to taste hers. (Y/N)'s nails dug in his toned arms as he remained perched on top of her. A grunt or two rocked his chest and pushed her closer to release. Her whines became desperate and he pushed his hips harder, the newly increased friction causing her arms to snake underneath his tee-shirt, marking the flesh of his back red and white claw marks.

“Please, James” her moans begged, threatening for the flames to spill and soil her underwear. He was thankful for the loud crashing of the waves covering the sound that was quickly escaping his chest. His thrusts slowed, the intensity of it remaining while he edged himself, on the cusp of tumbling down his climax. “Say it again, please” he asked before she whispered his name again.

Ticking the last boxes she required, the could in her stomach snapped with the sweetest and most languid way she has ever said “James”. He was there already, playing with the fire of the edge and hearing her desperate release, he was thrown over the edge as well, moaning her name over and over as he coated the fabric of his boxers.

His lips linked to her neck as he allowed his body to lay next to her, their chests bouncing up and down with each pants filling their lungs. “Sorry I couldn't hold longer” he blushed, crossing his arms behind his head while trying his best to calm his breathing. “It's only going to make the real thing better if we learn about each other's body beforehand” she whispered, ticking another box in a corner of Jim's mind. He hoped she meant it when she said there will be a “real thing”. Wincing at the mess in his underwear, he tried to adjust himself at the best of his ability before propping himself on his elbow.

“Do you know how beautiful you look right now, he asked, his lips getting captured between his teeth.

- Do you really think I am?

- I do. You take my breath away and it's driving me crazy, (Y/N), he confessed sheepishly, the red blooming his cheeks.

- Well, I guess I am then. I will be whatever you want me to be, she flashed him a cheeky smile.”

He swallowed thickly, the pad of his fingertips pushing her (H/C) out of her face. His eyes wandered across her features. He loved everything that was displayed right in front of him. Was it love? He wasn't sure of it. He was sure of one thing. “If you want to be anything I want you to be, would you be my girlfriend?” he raised an eyebrow, earning a soft giggle from her before she kissed him gently. “Of course I will be” she answered.

His dorky smile sprawled on his masculine features and his girl in his arms, he let the sound of the waves lull him. But they didn't have infinity and soon, her mother called out her name. A heavy sigh left her chest before Jim answered for her “Don't worry, Mrs. (Y/L/N), I will bring her home safe” he reassured the woman perched by the railing.

She didn't fail to notice how tightly laced their legs were and how her daughter was cooped up against the chest of the recovered teenager. She didn't fail to notice the obvious affection that seeped out of their helpless embrace. Where she failed was when her little girl was not her little girl any more. She failed to notice how she was rapidly growing attached to Jim. She failed to notice how deeply (Y/N) was falling for the boy and how he looked like he was feeling the same way.

“Thank you Jim, keep her safe!” the mother mumbled before her figure disappeared. She will need to talk to her husband about it.

Her little girl snuggled deeper against her the her Jimmy's frame, letting him wrap his arms tighter against her. Silence fell around them while they held each other closer and closer with every passing minutes. When the bitter taste of her alcohol induced nausea came to bite, she whimpered out of his grasp, concern laced in his gaze while the quickly stood to her feet, stumbling as far away from him as her feet could carry her.

Unfortunately for her, he was right on her tail, enquiring about what was wrong. She could barely mumble about the twisting in her stomach that the content in her tummy spewed out of her. He quickly wrapped his fingers around her (H/C) locks, pulling it in a messing ponytail and soothing gentle rubs against her skin while she emptied herself on the sand.

A minute passed and she gently unbent herself from her position, wiping her mouth quickly before looking at Jim over her shoulder. Whatever feeling he had been getting himself drunk off of was gone now. His hand pushed her back against his chest and in that instant, he could picture her, grey and old, still wrapped in his arms. He had the clearest picture of how he would drop on his knee and ask her to say she wouldn't let go from him and take his name.

Girlfriend wasn't good enough in this moment. Because he knew he loved her. In this very moment, he was sure of it. In this very moment, he would do anything to spend the rest of his days with her. “Time to take you home, babe, you need to sleep” he whispered, not letting go of her hand, trying to muffle the quickening of his heart with a distracting smile.

Jim guided her up to grab her shoes. Just like that night he met her in the dark, she ended up wrapped in his Sherpa and denim jacket. The smell of cigarette was nearly gone from it and he sort of wished she had been wearing it earlier. The idea of her sweating her arousal onto the fabric nearly made him pin her against the closet wall and make her exude her passion in a symphony of sweet little moans she had delivered earlier.

(Y/N) stood by the door, hoping Medina would come downstairs and say goodbye once Jim announced he would be taking her back now. But she didn't. Could she not keep both of the twins? Right now, the choice was easy as the brunette laced his fingers through hers, suddenly not caring about the idea of his parents seeing their small display of PDA. In fact, he even pushed his luck further and place a long kiss on her lips before they could exit the house by the front door.

And he would not let go of her hand. He held their palm tightly as they walked down the stairs of Palos Verdes. The empty streets made stealing kisses from her the most pleasant game he could have taken part in.

The view of her house shattered her heart. She did not want to let got. She promised, after all. But when their cheeky play abruptly stopped when she stood in front of the door. She climbed the couple of stairs leading up to the entrance, looking proud of being able to be at eye level with him.

“If I'm whatever you want me to be and I'm your girlfriend, could I also be a princess so you can tuck me in?” she gently teased. He giggled. She loved every second of it. “Okay but let's make it a quick one, Missy” he bit back before being pulled into her house. She kicked off her shoes and he was surprised to notice the layout of their house was completely different. He had never stepped foot inside the (Y/L/N) house.

Jim slipped off her shoes and followed her discreet footstep to what appeared to be her bedroom. The waves were crashing outside of her window and he couldn't help but look at the beauty of the ocean and wishing he could stay here forever.

She shed his coat, giving it back to his rightful owner. His eyes wondered against her skin for a moment and he closed the door behind them. Burning (Y/N)'s skin in their path, his fingertips gently caressed her tee shirt off, then her shorts and his breath itched in his throat as he noticed her body at his full mercy.

In a thought of clarity, he turned around, allowing her to fully change into her pyjamas. “Would you stay with me tonight?” her voice sounded more desperate than she intended but she didn't care. She needed to be around him. Against him.

“You need to rest, (Y/N), I'll see you tomorrow, okay?” he answered, stroking her soft cheek before she dived between the covers of her bed. Jim's eyes wondered against her and, in a sigh, he came back on his words, letting his top and his pair of jeans join her clothes on the floor and pulling himself between her arms.

He had dreamed about this too many times. He needed her and now that he had her, he was not letting go. They promised.

#jim mason #jim mason x reader #jim mason x reader smut #tribes of palos verdes

31 notes · View notes

missblissy · 5 years

Note

I saw ur message about the nsfw and I totally understand. It’s my birthday I just want some fluff with Arthur because he makes me feel better 😭

((Yes, of course, my friend!! Happy birthday by the way!! I hope it’s been a good day for you!!))

Every year, with every birthday, you tried your best to not make a big deal about it. You simply just didn’t like celebrating your birthday that much. It was just another day for you, and honestly, you didn’t like the idea of getting older. You were already a barely functioning adult, so it didn’t seem like a good idea to make you another year older and further into adulthood.

However, this was the first year you had someone who deeply cared about you. His name was Arthur Morgan, your beloved sweetheart cowboy. Normally you’d wake up beside him, but on this morning you woke up to an empty bedside. The intoxicating smell of food also drew you out of your slumber.

When you rolled over, you found a warm plate of eggs and bacon on your little bedside table. Holy hell! You didn’t even know there were eggs and bacon to be made! You also found a tiny little folded note under the plate of food.

Sitting up in bed, you chowed down on your breakfast while trying to read the note left for you.

The note said:

(Y/N),

Good morning, my love, and happy birthday. Enjoy the breakfast, and when you're done, would mind meeting me down the lake? By the usual rocks?

- Arthur

Hmm, what on earth did this man have planned for you? You were a little nervous because he was such a lover and liked to spoil you rotten. But at the same time, you found yourself a little excited for what he had in store.

You got dressed quickly and rushed through camp to find Arthur. Hosea and Dutch wished you a happy birthday as you passed them sitting at one of the tables. Other people wished you a happy birthday here and there too, glad that you made it another year with the gang.

The sun seemed like it was only inches above the horizon, it was still early in the morning. The sunrise was so beautiful in the reflection of the lake. You stared at it while you walked down the beach to a cluster of rocks and boulders far enough away from camp that no one would see you. There you could see Arthur sitting on the biggest of the rocks, writing away in his journal. He was always writing in that thing.

He looked up at the sound of your footsteps on the stone beach, he smiled as soon as he met your gaze. You smiled back and quickly ran the rest of the distance between you two.

Arthur slapped his journal closed and put it away. You jump onto the boulder and scooted over quickly to greet him with a light kiss, “Hi,” You smiled wide.

“Hello,” Arthur smiled just as big as you.

Bashful and cheeky, you said, “Hia,” this time,

“Oh hello,” His voice was a little lower and cared the right amount of flirtation in it.

You blushed and giggled, “Hey, Hi. How are you?” You sat so close to him that your legs and shoulders touched.

Arthur chuckled for a second, “I’m okay. You?”

“Very okay,” It was hard trying not to flirt with him. It was just so easy and intoxicating to be coy and bashful, “You never told me you were a good cook. I have so many secrets to learn about, Mr. Morgan,” Your voice was light and airy, carrying a light singsong tune to it.

“Only when I need to be,” He joked, “I don’t have many secrets left,”

“Oh?”

“Just one, that’s for later though,”

You raised a brow at him, “Later?” He gave you this look you couldn’t quite read, “What do you have planned for later?”

He cleared his throat and leaned back a little, using his arm to hold himself up, “Nothing special,”

Oh come on, you rolled your eyes at that, “Yeah? Geeze, funny cause today is my birthday. It doesn’t have anything to do with that,”

“Nah,” He drawled out, “No, nothing at all,” He was so sarcastic it hurt.

You shoved him lightly and playfully, “Liar!” You laughed, “What do you got planned?”

He stayed tight-lipped and instead Arthur distracted you with a kiss. You fell for it only for a moment before breaking away and asking the same question. Arthur just would not tell you! You begged and begged and pleaded and even bargained with him. He just kept distracting you with kisses and light touches. He was so handsome and devilish, he surely knew how to press your buttons.

You settled for taking those kisses and leaning into his shoulder, “So you do have something planned?”

“Maybe,” God dammit!

“Coome oooon, please? Please, Arthur? Please tell meee?” You gave it one last shot.

He shook his head again. Dammit! He probably didn’t even have anything planned at all, he probably was just messing with you. Fine then! You slid off the rock and watched his face drop.

“Where you going?” You ignored him and walked away along the shore, “Hey!” he called to you. You stopped and looked over your shoulder towards Arthur, he seemed confused and lost. Aw, isn’t that so sad? You looked away and kept walking down the shore.

Arthur called you again then you heard the sound of foot steps chasing to get you. You burst out in a fit of giggle and sprinted, knowing he was right behind you.

“(Y/N)!!” He yelled between his own laughter, “(Y/N) don’t make me tackle you!”

“Do it! You won’t!” The rocks below your feet tumbled and fell out of the way. The giddiness bubbling in your chest scream in excitment at the fake fear that Arthur would catch. But that’s what you wanted.

You made the mistake to slow down by just a second. You were instantly greated by Arthur tackling you a picking you yp off the ground. You laughed loudly, fits of giggles excaping you as he held you up and spun you around, “No!! Let me go!! I must be free!!”

Arthur held you from behind, he pressed his face into the back of your neck and chuckled while saying, “Not anymore, girl! You’re mine! All mine!” You wriggled around in his arm and manged to get him to put you down, but he didn’t let go.

“No!” You faced him now, trapped in his arms. He leaned in to steal a kiss but you quickly turned your head, “No! Not until you tell me what you’ve got planned!”

Arthur gave you this fake puppy dog look, “You still on that?” You just nodded your head. He tried to kiss you again but you avoided him again, “Damn it, (Y/N)! Kiss me!” He demanded.

“Not until you tell me!”

He put you down and let you go as he sighed, “Fine,” Arthur gave you this look of defeat, “I didn’t reallty have anything planned but I did plan on giving you something,” He reached into his satchal and pulled out a small box wrapped and held together bu a ribbon.

As he handed you the small gift, your heart and head buzzed at what on earth could be in there, “Oh...” You were surprised, you didn’t expect a gift at all. No, you really didn’t, “Oh, Arthur,” You looked up at him, “You didn’t have to get me something.”

“I wanted too,” He gestered to the little box, “Open it.”

You nervously tugged at the bow, scared that you might break it. The ribbon fell away and you were left with a small box that could fit in both of your hands. You lifted the lid, heart racing to see what was inside.

The morning light hit the little glass ball perfectly. You gazed at it, confused at what it was. You peered up at Arthur, expecting him to tell you. He hesitated but pulled the little glass ball out of the box. There inside it you could see a rose trapped in the glass. The way the sunlight reflected off the glass made the rose look like it was glowing in a rainbow of colors.

You gasped, it was so beautiful, “Arthur...” You weren’t sure what it was though, and he could tell.

“I found this weird little front shop, it glass art,” He handed the little glass sphere to you, “It’s a real rose in there. Or... that’s what the guy at the shop told me.”

A chuckle escaped the both of you, knowing that anything bought from a shady front shop might be fake. Maybe fake, but surely beautiful.

“Thank you, Arthur,” You took your knew gift and held it close, “It’s perfect,” You reached up on your tip toes and gave him a kiss. He was so kind, gentle and just... perfect. He was perfect and anything he did was perfect and anything he gave you was going to be perfect too, “I love you,”

Arthur kissed you a second time, “I love you too, my darling,” This was perhaps one of the sweetest and kindest birthdays you’ve ever had.

81 notes · View notes

dmischief-blog · 6 years

Text

Bashfulness

word count: 2.9k

pair: george weasley x reader

warning(s): none

a/n: This has been in my drafts for quite a while and I am very pleased with how it turned out. Feedback is greatly appreciated!

“(Y/N)? What are you doing here? And why are you up so early? I clearly remember you saying that you weren’t exactly a morning person.” said Hermione after offering you a polite smile. You sighed softly in response, causing the brunette girl to furrow her eyebrows in question. You smiled, though you were certain she could surely detect the tiredness hidden behind it.

“Good morning to you too.” You muttered. Her smile soon faded and before she was able to question you, you flinched at the weight of a hand being so unexpectedly placed onto your shoulder. You turned around abruptly, only to be met with the sight of a grinning Ron who so desperately tried to conceal the amused chuckle that was threatening to spill out. Harry gave you a sheepish smile before taking a seat next to Hermione.

“What is it (Y/N)? Did I give you a bit of a scare?” You rolled your eyes at Ron, making him put his hands up in defense before sitting next to you. Hermione shook her head in disapproval, though her lips were on the verge of forming an amused grin.

One by one, the students started gathering around the dining hall and before you knew it, the place was absolutely filled with loud chattering. Christmas holidays were just around the corner and everyone seemed eager to finally return back home and spend time with their families. Everyone except you. It was only yesterday when you had received a letter from your parents informing you that, due to their jobs, you wouldn’t be able to celebrate Christmas together this year. Not that you were necessarily shocked, in fact, you were aware that it was bound to happen at some point. Frowning at the thought of having to spend Christmas alone without any of your friends’ company, you gave the trio one last smile before standing up and heading over to sit on your usual spot at (Y/H)’s table.

“Oh come on (Y/N), don’t you at least want to give it a try?” said Fred. Eyes looking down at you full of hope as a sly smile made its way onto his face. Your fingers gently grazed over the edge of the page you had just finished reading, only to then continue onto the next chapter.

You had no intention of breaking your focus. Afterall you already knew very well that Fred would not stop bothering you even if you gave him a ‘no’ for an answer. Something you had already done the very first time he had brought up this suggestion. A quiet protest left your lips as the book you had been reading was suddenly out of your reach and onto Fred’s steady grip.

He placed the book onto the table with a sigh of defeat, a tint of fake irritation apparent on his features. “Seriously (Y/N), I mean- half the school already knows about your crush on my brother. Everyone but him of course.” he muttered lowly, a smirk reappearing on his face.

You simply gave a huff of annoyance, “I believe you are being just a tiny bit dramatic Fred. As per usual.” you smiled and he returned it, flashing you his playful grin.

“Okay I’ll admit it. That might’ve been kind of a stretch but you know what I mean!” he argued before falling silent. His sudden pause caused you to slowly look up, he mumbled something under his breath, making you raise your eyebrow in question. Feeling your stomach twist and turn at his silence, you spoke up. “What is it?”

Remaining silent for a couple of seconds, he took a step back and smirked. Your entire body tensed up as you were well aware that something was definitely up and it wasn’t good by any means. He simply muttered a quick "Nothing.” before making his way out the library, leaving you absolutely terrified.

The next few days passed by way quicker than you anticipated. Christmas was a couple of days away and the majority of students from (Y/H) were getting their bags ready.

Being good friends with Harry,Ron and Hermione meant spending a lot of time in Gryffindor’s common room. Especially now since you were going to be spending Christmas at Hogwarts with very little to no company. According to the trio, you seemed much more tense than usual. A statement that you knew wasn’t completely wrong, after Fred’s little stunt in the library you just could not bring yourself to fully let loose. He was surely planning something and you highly doubted that ‘something’ would be beneficial for you in any way.

The twins always had a small tendency to tease you as they had, many times, claimed that seeing you ‘get your knickers in a twist’ caused them great amusement. However you had to admit, they weren’t the only ones who enjoyed poking a little harmless fun at you. Ginny and Ron also had their fair share of teasing you but you couldn’t say you necessarily minded it. Your family had always been in really good terms with the Weasleys and ever since you were young you had grown quite accustomed to it.

Though, what you had very recently come to realise was that George was suddenly not so fond of his siblings’ behaviour towards you. The red headed twins were practically known for their never ending mischief so you were quite shocked whenever he’d step in and end your playful banter.

It was only recently where he had started acting this way and you couldn’t help but be suspicious. Wondering whether the twins were teaming up against you.

“Hermione, would you please let me-”

“No Ron.” Hermione cut in, “I am not letting you copy anything, instead, you could just go ahead and do it yourself.”

Ron gave a sigh, letting his head fall back as he quietly muttered. "Bloody hell…”

Harry chuckled at the scene in front of him before giving Ron a pat on the shoulder, which granted him a small frown from the red headed male.

Giving you a hopeful smile, Ron leaned towards you slightly. “(Y/N), would you mind helping me with Potions? I am completely lost-”

“(Y/N)!” “There you are!” “We’ve been looking for you young lady.”

This time being interrupted by his older brothers, Ron exhaled a frustrated sigh before cursing lightly under his breath.

The twins smiled cheekily at his little tantrum before their attention drifted towards you.

Fred stepped forward, throwing a smirk your way and that’s when you noticed. George had both of his hands hidden behind his back, signifying that he was most definitely holding something.

“What are you two up to?” you curiously asked, your voice barely above a whisper.

The twins looked at each other for a short moment and after that, Fred gave the youngest a small nod. George turned towards you and smiled, making you frown in question. He then handed you what seemed to be a letter. You reached out to take it from his grasp though you were a bit hesitant at first. Looking at them both in the eyes, their intentions truly appeared to be innocent as they looked back at you without any mischief glinting in their eyes.

You began reading out loud and as soon as you were done, the trio grinned happily while the twins remained smirking cunningly at your shocked expression. You chuckled lightly before pulling both of them in a tight hug, making them laugh at your excitement.

“We know we’re great, you can thank us later.” Fred said, earning him a punch on the shoulder to which he responded with a yelp of pain.

George stayed silent instead. A smirk still plastered onto his face as he ruffled your hair gently.

“How did you know?” you asked.

They both shrugged in unision.

“We have our ways.” George added.

“(Y/N) dear! Oh it’s so lovely to see you. It’s been a while, hasn’t it?” said Molly, offering you the sweetest smile to which you returned with one of your own.

“It really has. Thank you so much for inviting me to spend Christmas with you, I really hope I am not a burden.” you spoke and your voice faded slightly at the end of your sentence. George gave you a playful nudge on the arm before walking past you with a welcoming smile on his face.

“Don’t be stupid (Y/N), of course you’re not a burden.”

Molly eyed him warily before enveloping you in a tight embrace and pulling you inside. Each time you stepped inside the Weasleys’ house you felt an instant wave of warmth and safety wash through you and this time it was no different. The family reassured you multiple times that your presence was more than welcomed in their household and since you went along with pretty much everyone, you were used to spending the night and sharing Ginny’s room. This time, however, you volunteered to sleep on the couch, much to Hermione’s hesitance. Convincing her of the fact that you did not mind in the slightest was tougher than you expected but you still managed to ease her worries.

Soon it was dinner time and Arthur went on rambling about how things were going at the Ministry, to which whilst Molly nodded along. Chatter quickly filled the room as well as the playful banter shared between Fred and Percy, earning both males a light scolding from their mother. Ginny breathed out a small laugh after catching Fred’s seemingly irritated expression and it wasn’t long before Hermione joined in. George simply gave a small smile at his brother’s antics before looking up at you with his gaze lingering a bit longer than usual. Admittedly, that irked your curiosity a tiny bit and needless to say it took a whole lot of self-restraining not to comment on it.

“(Y/N) are you sure you don’t mind?” asked Hermione, her unruly curls tied back in a loose ponytail as she silently scanned your face for any sign of discomfort.

You gave her a faint smile before nodding in reassurement. The girl nodded in return after mumbling a quick ‘good night’ and heading upstairs.

Nothing but the sound of the crackling fire filled the room and you gave a sigh of pure bliss at the warmth radiating from the fireplace before gently laying back. Hours passed by much slower than what you had anticipated and during those hours all you did was tosh and turn in a failed attempt to fall asleep. Actually, you’d be lying if you denied how completely drained you felt; though it wouldn’t be hard to believe judging by how you could barely keep your eyelids open. Even so you still couldn’t exactly pinpoint why that was the case; after all you were no stranger to spending the night in the Weasley household. You assumed the main cause of it was just feeling homesick unconsciously.

All of a sudden, you heard shuffling coming from upstairs and your muscles tensed up instantly; after having placed your weight onto your elbows you pushed yourself up and tried to look around whilst your eyes took some time to adjust to the darkness. In a matter of seconds the shuffling stopped and though you still felt a bit shaken up, you quickly realised that someone had probably just woke up.

You gave a tired sigh and tugged the blanket closer to body before closing your eyes once again. For a split moment you felt as though you were about to drift off into dreamland until a pair of hands gripped your upper arm and shook you awake. You yelped in panic and, out of instinct, your hands reached up and placed themselves over your heart; panting slightly your eyes met with a pair of seemingly ‘seeking of forgiveness’ brown eyes.

You clenched your jaw in furry and before you could question the guilty, George put his hands up in defense and slowly sat down next to you.

“I know you’re mad at me but I swear I didn’t mean to scare you. Really.”

You glared at him intensely for a few seconds before relaxing your muscles and letting your shoulders fall loose. You looked up at him and George frowned deeply before averting his gaze elsewhere. That did not last long though as he quickly found your eyes again, only this time he offered you a sheepish smile.

“I’m sorry.”

You breathed out a chuckle in disbelief and George joined in with that same smile still covering his face. You could easily detect a hint of hope radiating from his expression and as much as you attempted to conceal it, a shy smile still appeared on your face.

“Can’t sleep?” Asked George.

You huffed, “What makes you say that?” you questioned with a tone full of sarcasm. The red headed male rolled his eyes playfully at your words.

“Guess that makes two of us.”

Now that raised your curiosity alright. You furrowed your eyebrows in question and George simply gave a shrug. “Kinda hard to sleep with Fred’s obnoxious snoring.”

The attempt to stop your laughter from slipping past your lips was far too difficult and it quickly turned you into a giggling mess. George grinned at your amused state which caused your cheeks to flush a bright red color which then lead to you internally wishing that he wouldn’t take notice of it.

“I am not quite sure I believe your excuse Georgie. Are you sure that’s why you decided to pay me a visit?” you asked, hoping to get something more out of him.

Unexpectedly, George just smiled and shook his head in denial before muttering, “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Throwing him a look of disbelief, a playful smirk settled upon your face and soon enough you scooted closer with your shoulders now touching. Silence quickly took over and the atmosphere was far from awkward. After spending so much time with the Weasleys you grew incredibly comfortable in their presence, especially with the twins or even more specifically with George.

The exhaustion of the day soon started kicking in and no matter how much you tried to keep your eyes open, they still fluttered closed. George noticed fairly quickly and urged you to lean your head against his shoulder after having shuffled even closer. A small smile formed on your lips at the feeling of his fingers shyly brushing against yours, silently asking permission to hold your hand and without hesitation you intertwined your fingers in a gentle grip.

“Comfy?”

His voice was no louder than a whisper, you hummed in response before looking up at him “You are forgiven.” you said. George’s eyes lit up at your words and he then gave a small nod. After observing your expression he realised that your eyes were focused elsewhere, his eyes followed your gaze and spotted the mistletoe hanging above the two of you.

You broke the silence with a huff, “I don’t remember that being here.” masking your embarrassment with confusion you looked at George with a small frown.

George kept his gaze focused on the small mistletoe and by the looks of it you were almost certain he was thinking of something. After no more than a second he mumbled, “Neither do I…” under his breath. His eyes made contact with yours once more and before you had the chance to break it he spoke up.

“May I?” The boyish, almost shy smile he had on his face paired with his unruly bed hair made your heart rate pick up rapidly and the lump in your throat only worsened. Knowing that words would one hundred percent fail you you smiled reassuringly and nodded.

George leaned in eagerly yet slowly, your noses brushed lightly and before you knew it your lips collided in a sweet kiss. His grip on your hand loosened before moving upwards to brush the hair out of your face and when you both pulled away he quickly placed a kiss on your cheek.

“I’ve always wanted to do that.”

His words made a smile reappear on your face but not too long after that, your smile faded away abruptly at his next words.

“Though you do look ridiculous with your hair all messed up.”

You gaped before giving him a harsh shove against his shoulder and pushing him lightly. On the other hand, he was quick to mask his amused laugh with a pout but that didn’t make you any less harsh.

“Look who’s talking!” You said, an amused smile present on your face as well. Meanwhile George leaned closer and whispered quietly.

“We’re not alone you know.”

Immediately realising who he was referring to, you smirked to yourself and with the most sarcastic tone you could master you spoke up, “Stop spying on us you creep!”

George chuckled at that before whipping his head around to find a very satisfied looking Fred with his hands crossed over his chest. The older twin gave you an offended look before muttering something along the lines of ‘This wouldn’t have happened if it weren’t for me so you should be grateful’ or something like that but instead of responding you just pulled George in for another kiss. Fred made a noise of both disgust and disappointment before making his way upstairs only after having informed George of the fact that he had no excuse to spend the night here.

Needless to say the next morning Fred had, of course, spread the news which automatically lead to you getting teased by both Ron and Ginny while George earned a light scolding by his mother.

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