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ewanmitchellcrumbs · 8 months

Note

Hi I’d like to request Abraham with a breeding kink. They’ve already got twin boys and another boy but Abraham wants a girl like her mother, so he puts reader in a mating press and fucks her stupid till his cums taken root

Hope you enjoy!

Warnings: Semi-arranged marriage. Ideals that might seem sexist but are quite typical for Romani communities, especially in a 1950s setting. Mention of loss of virginity. Breeding kink. Smut. Word count: ~2k

Author's note: I did a lot of research into Romani culture to ensure I got this right, but if there's anything that is incorrect or handled insensitively, please let me know. Abraham doesn't have a surname, a he's such a minor character, for the purpose of this fic I've given him one - it's Lee - quite a common Romani surname in the UK. I don't have a tag list. Please follow @fics-by-ewanmitchellcrumbs and turn on post notifications.

She has spent her whole life dreaming of her wedding day, her thoughts filled with what her husband will be like and how many children they’ll have.

She idolises her mother. Growing up, she helps her to care for her siblings and to keep a clean home. She learns how to cook, how to sew, all of the skills that will shape her into the perfect Romani wife.

She hopes for a union that will strengthen her and her future husband’s familial ties and contribute towards their small community of travellers.

It’s with excitement when she turns eighteen that she learns that a man within their community wishes to marry her, but she is nervous when she finally gets to meet him.

Abraham; she knows of him, though they have never properly spoken. She finds him intimidating. He’s tall, has sharply chiseled features, slicked back hair and piercing blue eyes, tattoos litter his forearms. He is undeniably handsome, but there’s something about his smirk that suggests an element of danger. She’s uncertain of whether it frightens or excites her, the feeling that flutters in her lower belly when she looks at him is unfamiliar to her.

Her fate is sealed when Abraham gifts one of his prized thoroughbreds to her parents as his bride price. It’s a massive horse, with a shiny chestnut coat that he has clearly cared well for. He could sell it into racing and earn thousands, so the fact that he is prepared to part ways with it in exchange for her hand in marriage is more than enough to convince her mother and father. She cannot deny the way her heart flutters at the gesture either, it’s exciting to know that a man of his reputation is so eager to be wed to her.

Their wedding day feels like a dream come true, with both their families coming together to celebrate the happy couple. Yet despite the jubilant atmosphere and effort everyone has gone to to ensure the day is perfect, nerves swirl like butterflies within her. Their courtship has never allowed them any real time alone together and she is anxious for what will happen on their wedding night when it’s finally just the two of them.

As they join hands, Abraham’s blue eyes gazing deeply into hers with a tenderness she didn’t know he was capable of, her stomach does flips, but this time anxiety is not the cause.

When his lips press against hers for their first kiss, she is taken aback by their remarkable softness. He treats her with such reverence and care, as though he is handling something precious and fragile.

She trembles like a leaf as his steady hands help her out of her wedding dress to lay her down upon their marital bed. His calloused palms stroke across her skin, soothing her and she is once more surprised at his gentleness, a stark juxtaposition to his rugged appearance.

He takes his time with her, his kisses and caresses are unhurried, causing her to melt with pleasure, so that when he does push inside of her for the first time she feels only the faintest of stings.

As soon as she relaxes, her breathing growing heavier, her hips chasing the movement of his, it’s as though a switch is flipped inside of him.

He slings one of her legs over his shoulder, his thrusts becoming harder and faster, his forehead pressed against hers against as his eyes stare into hers.

“Been fuckin’ obsessed wi’ ya since I first laid eyes on ya,” he rasps, “Knew I had to have ya. You’re gonna look so pretty when I knock you up.”

She gasps at his words, tightening involuntarily around him, and it’s not long before he’s spilling inside of her as her own climax sends her sensitive inner walls into spasms.

Abraham’s appetite for her is insatiable and he has her on every available surface of their shared caravan, at every opportunity. She grows to love him. He has a mean streak, though it is never directed towards her; he treats her with utter adoration and is fiercely protective of her. It is only when they are intimate that his temperament towards her darkens, becoming possessive, spilling forth confessions of his desires for her to fall pregnant. She doesn't mind this, however; on the contrary, it excites her. When they aren’t together, he works hard with the horses, while she takes care of their home, and their married life is a happy one.

When she learns she’s expecting, he’s ecstatic, his large hand cradling her abdomen as he smiles down at her. She gives birth to healthy twin boys, Noah and Elijah, and six months later she discovers she’s pregnant again.

She is overjoyed when her third baby boy, Logan, is placed into her arms, though there is a small part of her that feels disappointment that he’s not a girl.

Over the next five years, their home is filled with love and laughter as the boys grow and Abraham dotes on all of them. The male energy within their home can feel stifling at times for her, and when their sons excitedly accompany Abraham to the stables each day, she feels lonely, missing the connection she had with her mother.

She longs for a daughter, someone she can teach to cook and look after a home, much like her mother did for her. But with three noisy boys keeping them occupied, there is rarely time for them to try again.

Wistfully, she thinks back on the days of when Abraham thrust into her on every surface, a memory that now seems unrealistic when they’re battling against endless shouts of “I’m hungry!” and “he’s hitting me!”

The sun has barely begun to rise as she slips out of bed, unable to sleep. Her hands cup around the steaming mug of tea as she stares out of the caravan window at the horizon, a sense of longing settling into her as she thinks about how soon her husband and the boys would be awake, leaving her alone again for the day.

She is startled out of her thoughts when she feels Abraham’s sturdy arms wrap around her waist, his chest against her back as he leans over her shoulder. The cleft of his nose presses into her hair, inhaling deeply before dragging lightly across her cheekbone.

“You’re up early, Mrs. Lee,” he whispers.

She hums in acknowledgement, leaning back against him. “Couldn’t sleep.”

“You alright, love?” Concern tinges his voice, his hand raising to cup her jaw, tilting her face to look at him.

“It’s stupid, don’t worry,” she says, moving away to place her mug in the washing up bowl on the kitchenette side.

“Oi,” he chides, grabbing her arm and pulling her back to him. “Less of that. Tell me.”

She sighs, pressing her palms flat against the solid expanse of his chest, before sliding them upwards to rest on his shoulders. “I just…I get lonely with you and the boys gone all day. I’ve just always wanted–”

“A girl?” Abraham cuts her off with a smirk.

“Yeah…” She says, lowering her gaze, feeling her skin heat up with embarrassment.

“What’s to stop us trying?” He asks, rubbing his hands up and down her arms.

She scoffs, rolling her eyes. “Fat chance of that when we’ve got a caravan full of screaming kids already.”

He nods his head, pursing his lips thoughtfully. “Well, how about we send the boys to Cora’s for a bit tonight? Once I’m finished with the horses today, it’ll be just you and me for the evening.”

Her eyes light up and she grins excitedly, the thought of some alone time with her husband for the first time in five years making her feel giddy. “Oh, I’d love that!”

When Abraham and the boys are ready to leave for the stables later that morning, he leans in to whisper to her as he kisses her cheek. “Hope you’re ready for all the things I’m gonna do to you later.”

A shiver of excitement shoots up her spine and she spends the rest of the day filled with nervous energy, unable to concentrate properly on anything.

In spite of her restless excitement, she ensures the caravan is spotless and bakes Abraham his favourite steak and kidney pie for dinner.

When he steps through the door later that evening, he’s unaccompanied by their sons, and is holding a bunch of wildflowers, which she recognises from the fields that surround his walk to and from the stables. She smiles at the thought that he’d gone to the effort to pick them for her, taking them from him with a peck on the lips as thanks.

“Made your favourite for dinner,” she tells him, as he backs her up towards the bedroom with a predatory glint in his eye.

“Smells good,” he tells her, hands moving to encircle her waist, “but maybe we can start with pudding?”

He dips his head, capturing her lips with his own and kisses her slowly, yet the hand that moves to cradle the back of her head serves as a quiet reminder that he’s in control.

“Clothes off, Mrs. Lee”, he instructs quietly, pushing her gently back on to the bed.

Her breathing comes in quick, shallow pants of eagerness, as she works to unbutton her blouse with shaky fingers.

Abraham watches her intently, his hands slowly unbuckling his belt as she bares herself to him. He makes quick work of the rest of his clothes once she’s completely undressed, and covers her body with his own, all lithe, lean muscle and tattoos.

“You gonna let me taste you?” He murmurs against the shell of her ear.

She shivers, her voice coming out in a whine. “Please, I’ve waited for you all day, I don’t need that, just want you.”

“So desperate,” he chuckles, dipping a hand between her legs.

She gasps as he swipes his fingers through her folds, collecting the arousal that’s gathered there.

“Fuckin’ hell, you’re soaked.”

She lets out a quiet mewl in response, her body arching against his.

He smirks, gripping the base of his cock and sliding the head through her wetness, causing her to emit a needy sigh.

“Abe, please…”

He answers by sheathing himself fully inside of her in one fluid thrust, causing her to cry out.

“Wrap your legs around me,” he commands quietly, “wanna make sure I’m nice and deep.”

She does as she’s told, tipping her head back at the sensation of how far inside the change in angle pulls him.

Abraham grunts, pulling his hips back before slamming them forward once more. The pace he sets is relentless, fucking her into the mattress with urgency.

“Gonna fill you up,” he murmurs to her, “you look so fuckin’ good when you’re pregnant, love, can’t wait to see it again.”

She moans, walls fluttering around him at his filthy words, every drag of him inside of her pushes and pulls against a spot that has her toes curling and her voice raising an octave.

His brow furrows with exertion, full lips parted as he pants for breath, his grip on her thighs near bruising. He releases one of them, pressing his palm flat against her lower belly.

“Wanna make sure it goes all the way in here, love” he grits out, pace never faltering.

The combination of what he’s telling her and the way he uses her so forcefully nudges her closer to the edge and she tenses, feeling her peak begin to build inside of her.

Abraham’s gaze darkens as he senses this. “Nearly there, aren’t ya? Come on, give it to me.”

He slides the hand on her belly downwards, stopping when he reaches her pearl and circles pressured strokes against it with his thumb.

The added stimulus causes the already near unbearable pressure to build, until finally it reaches its boiling point, and she falls apart as waves of white hot pleasure roll through her body.

Abraham stills with a grunt, pushing himself as deep as he can possibly go, pulsating as he spills inside of her.

He collapses against her, breathless and sweaty, and she wraps her arms around him, breathing in the comforting scent of him.

“When’s Cora dropping the boys back off?” She asks quietly, after a few moments of satisfied silence.

“Not until tomorrow morning,” he says with a grin, “we’ve got all night.”

Nine months later, when little Esme is placed into her arms, she’s glad that they did.

#abraham #ewan mitchell #abraham x reader #abraham smut #abraham x you #abraham x y/n #abraham grantchester #abraham imagine #abraham fan fiction #abraham fanfiction #abraham fanfic #abraham fan fic #grantchester smut #grantchester fan fiction #grantchester fanfiction #grantchester fanfic #grantchester fan fic #grantchester

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barbieaemond · 2 months

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Ewan Mitchell as Abraham in Grantchester

#ewan mitchell #abraham #grantchester #barbieaemondgifs

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targs-on-zorses · 7 months

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#abraham #ewan mitchell #abraham grantchester #grantchester #mine: ps #ttp-eligifs

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myfandomprompts · 8 months

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#for science

#ewan mitchell #usermyfandomprompts #ewan nation #abraham grantchester #grantchester #aemond targaryen #hands gif set #hands #arms #tattoos #ewanverse

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fan-goddess · 2 months

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Chapter Four: A new kind of promise

Catch up on the fic here!

Authors Note: After weeks of heavy research into Romani weddings traditions, I decided to use a mix of traditional events and my own versions. The questions I’ve been trying to find answers for have come up with little to nothing, so I’m mixing it all up into my own thing. I am sorry if that’s offended people, but I genuinely can’t do much about it. I have tried asking for help, but nothing came through. I’ve used mainly Christian traditions, but am making it my own with as much limited information that I found online weaved in.

Chapter Summary: The wedding day is coming up quickly, and your little conversation with your hopefully soon to be husband has made you think of things more clearly than you before

Taglist: @valeskafics, @omgbrcat @humanpurposes, @watercolorskyy, @blue-serendipity @anjelicawrites @lexwolfhale @helaenaluvr @scarletbedlam @tssf-imagines @vhagar-balerion-meraxes @arcielee @targaryenbarbie @ilikechocolatemilkh @tumblin-theworldaway

Warnings: Talks of arranged marriage, literal marriage, most likely incorrect portrayal of a Romani wedding, she/her pronouns mentioned, (if I miss any let me know!)

The wedding is in two days, and the memory of Abrahams body against yours is still unrelenting and clear in your mind as ever. Sticking with you with the same ferocity as a stick of Ivy that’s grown on the side of a house.

Though it were his words that clung to you most adamantly. ‘Because while she may not even be here yet, I already somehow finding myself caring for her. Just as much as I find myself already loving you.’

“What’s got you in such a state my darling?” Your mother says, making you suddenly jump in pure fright as in your thoughts you’d forgotten she was even there in the first place.

You sigh. “Nothing mum. I was just… just thinking of the wedding.”

You’d hate to say anything to inflate her ego, but your mum has been nothing short of a saint, even with her small snide comments every so often. As while you’ve been so caught up on Abraham, she’s been caught up in the making of your wedding. Making sure everything is being set up rightly for the day, and making sure your dress will be made in good time. It seems her bossiness and her attitude is good for something other than nagging you.

She scoffs in disbelief at your answer, but to your relief she seems to let the comment slide. Focusing on making herself a cup of tea, reminding you of your own that whilst you were caught up in your thoughts, turned cold in your hands. Still, you sip at it diligently anyway. Attempting to use it as a very useless distraction that of course does little to help.

The stables are now a place you can’t go to anymore. Too fearful to be put face to face with your soon-to-be husband to go anywhere near that now haunted place. From what you’ve heard from the recent girl talk you’ve been listening too with pricked up ears whenever Abrahams been mentioned, he hasn’t been going there too much recently anyway. Choosing to go either there or mainly out in the woods. He still drops off the wood and the animal carcasses, only with the recent development of the two of yours’ relationship, he only places them at the step of the door, before knocking and leaving soon as he comes. As if he was never there in the first place.

You don’t blame him for acting like this. Especially with how you acted to him after he practically told you he loved you.

You hate yourself for it. As when he uttered those words, you froze. You mumbled incoherent words even to yourself, and ran away like an absolute fucking coward. You left him standing there in that stable, leaning against the wall after he said those personal things to you, and you feel absolutely awful for it.

Your parents had asked what had you in such a rush when you all but sprinted through the door, but you couldn’t dare tell them the reason. Instead, you yelled you needed the loo, and hid in the toilets for a few minutes and cried into your hands like an idiot.

The days that went by after that had all been eerily and dreadfully similar. His words had revealed something within you that made you so fearful of it all that you now cannot do anything but hate yourself, and pray to whatever man or thing that was in the sky that Abraham would still love you, even after what you had done.

To your surprise though, praying to whoever you could seemingly worked, as each night that passed resulted in another day until your wedding. When you’d become his wife and he’d become your husband. It would have been so exhilarating if the days before hadn’t been so awful and hateful.

The anxiety has been killing you, but putting that aside, the dress itself was absolutely beautiful.

It was white, a colour insisted by your mother even though there was a very high chance it’d be dyed a mixture of green and brown by the end of night, and reached around your mid calf. There was even delicate lace hand sewn by your mother. An act you could not dare to deny brought small tears to your eyes that were quickly dried away claiming hay fever, in fear it would somehow spoil the minimal makeup that had been insisted by the other ladies who’d helped you get ready.

Yet as you found yourself walking down the laid out path towards where your fiancé stands, you cannot deny that for once, you felt truly beautiful. That it felt thrilling almost to feel actually wanted and desired by a man who you would soon share your bed with.

Abraham doesn’t turn to look at you until you’re a few steps away. Yet when he does, your heart does somersaults as you see his mouth open slightly, and his eyes quickly move to look over you fully. His eyes widening slightly as he takes you all in, though you feel the need to almost snicker when you see they linger at times specially around your cleavage. An act he stops doing so quickly you could easily blink and miss it.

His reaction calms you though. As it shows he still cares for you in his own way. It shows that he still wants to be wish you. In his own way…

When you get to him, he nods his head in his own way of a greeting, and you nervously nod your own. Your lips already sore and swollen from how much you’ve been biting them in your anxiety the last couple days. Yet when Abrahams eyes trail to look at your lips, a whole new type of ache travels through you.

“May all who are here today sit now!” Pal shouts, his voice loud and asserting as everyone quickly moves to follow his orders. You and Abraham as well moving to face him as he looks at the both of you with a kind smile you cannot help but reciprocate.

“Abraham Lee, is here today to marry this fine woman from our own clan. Her parents are here today to witness the change of her transitioning from their daughter, to Abrahams wife. I understand that Abraham, instead of using typical money, has gifted one of his prized horse to the brides parents as payment. Does the brides parents feel this is a good payment for their daughter?”

You can’t turn back at the moment to look, but you can hear your father’s grunt as he lifts himself onto his feet, and how your mother fusses at him for him to be careful.

“Yes, me and my wife believe the horse that Abraham has provided our family with was a sufficient price to pay for our daughter. We are grateful to welcome him into our home, and are grateful he has taken such a shine to our only child.” Your father chokes, almost sounding on the verge of tears at the end of his words, before another round of grunts begins, signifying he’s finished and has sat back down on his chair again with a sigh.

Pal nods his head in a silent thanks to your parents, and turns to your right to look at Abraham eye to eye.

“Okay then. Now, Abraham Lee. Do you promise to take this romni under your protection? Do you vow to look after her, and be a good husband for her? To allow herself to be shielded by you forever, until the day you die?”

He doesn’t answer straight away, you yourself only hearing him let out a single deep breath, and you quite honestly feel yourself almost die on the spot fearing the worst has happened. That he has realised his mistake and that he’d put the wedding off there and then, shaming you for your actions.

Only whilst you’re worrying, he grunts and begins speaking, and you have to slowly let out the breath you were holding previously in thanks. “Yes, I vow to do all that and more for her.”

Then Pal turns to you, and suddenly you find yourself unable to breath once more. Who knew the whole ordeal would be so friggin stressful?

“Do you, a daughter of this clan and of the Roma, take Abraham Lee as your husband? Do you understand you will be under his protection, living in his home with him and being with him until his or your last breath? Do you vow to be a good wife to him, looking after him and caring for him back to full health whenever needed? Do you vow to guide him, when it is needed too? Do you vow to do all that and more for him, in exchange for his protection?”

Your breath is shaky as you hold it, and whilst it would be improper to do so, you want so badly to hold Abrahams hand firmly in your own and use his strength for some stability. Still, it is improper, and Abraham still has every right to shove you to the dirt and shame you.

“Yes, clan leader, I vow to do all that and more for him, as he is my husband now and forever more.” The extra words aren’t necessary, but it feels nice to do and makes you feel sort of giddy to see the small smile on Abrahams face in the corner of your eye. His body shifting from side to side as the next part of the ceremony begins.

“May the husband and wife hold each others hands.”

The two of you turn to each other, and you’re pleasantly surprised to see Abraham’s cheeks are an unfamiliar shade of pink. He almost appears bashful, but that would no doubt be an unfamiliar feeling of his.

Still, his hands move to clasp your own, and your thumb begins to rub small shapes on the back of his veiny hand. His own hands though clench slightly round yours, possibly as a warning. It probably wouldn’t be a good look for him or you if he was to begin glaring at you already, not even ten minutes into the ceremony.

“Do the two do you vow to look after each other, stay true to each other, and be good to each other for the rest of yours and theirs’ lives?”

This time, there is no real hesitation from either of you, as both you and Abraham almost manage to say ‘I will’, at the same time as each other.

Though after that, Pal smiles at the two of you, and motions for the bread to be brought out. Which when it gets handed to the two of them, it’s odd, as it’s almost like the both of you don’t want to release each others hands just yet, content in providing the other with a comforting warmth. Still, the both of you split hands anyways, and move to hold your own hands and kneel before Pal who continues to stand, to allow the rest of the ceremony to continue to take place.

“I bless the both of you with this bread, in the hopes it will symbolise the fruitful future the two of you will bring to each other.” You can feel the bread being placed on your knees, and for a slight second, your body recognises that familiar feeling of warmth and comfort as you feel Abraham’s hand on your leg for a quick moment grabbing one of the two chunks of bread. Pal hands him the salt, and he adds an almost amusing amount onto it, you yourself doing the exact same, only with much less.

Abraham brings the bread to your lips, and with a surprising amount of grace you manage to take the break into your mouth, eyes widening as the sudden taste of salt hits you. Your hand moving to cover your mouth as it takes a few seconds for you to be able to swallow. But after that small moment, which you could see brought a smile to Abraham’s face, you place your own piece of bread by his lips, and with much less care for his manners he fully leans forward and places his lips over your fingers, leaving spit to cover your fingertips as you let go of the bread and it falls directly on his waiting tongue.

Pal gives the two of you a minute to swallow, but neither you nor Abraham needs it. And instead, the two of you take the time to admire each other in your respective wedding outfits. Your own eyes focused on the way his body somehow manages to look so good in the clean yet somehow still Abraham looking suit, while his almost can’t seem to focus on one thing. His eyes constantly roaming your body as if he can’t get enough of you.

“Now that that’s been done, the bride and groom, if you can continue to face each other please! It’s time for the last bit of the vows part before we can move onto dancing, which I can say for all is what we’re definitely looking forward too! Or in my case, the booze!”

A small wave of laughter is heard from the guests, and even a small giggle from yourself is heard. A doing which brings a small, barely noticeable smile from the man in front of you.

“Finally, the newly vowed couple of the rom and romni needs to do one final thing. Abraham, my friend, it’s time for you to kiss your new bride!”

Your breath feels like it’s swept away from you as Abraham steps closer to you and takes your head in his hands, before pulling you closer. Your eyes close in delight and you feel yourself so close to letting out some sort of noise of pure happiness when his lips firmly press against your own.

Your heart feels like it’s about to beat from your chest as your hands grasp around Abrahams vest and somehow try to pull him closer to you. You can feel his body heat overwhelming you, and you almost let out something akin to a sad sound when he eventually pulls away from you. Yet that quickly gets forgotten when you see Abrahams red swollen lips up close. And when you find yourself able to tear your eyes away to look properly at him, you can see his own eyes and doing just the same. Unable to look away from your lips.

The both of you are so smitten that you almost don’t hear Pal announcing how it’s time for the celebration dance. Only broken from the trance when Pal places a hand gently against the both of yours’ shoulders and murmurs the instructions to the both of you, choosing to ignore the knowing smirk on his lips as the both of you are lead to where the rest of the nights festivities are being held.

It’s beautiful, for there are various lights that are hung up all around that brighten up the space wonderfully, and many other things that are dotted around that bring a deep sense of fondness deep in your heart. Soon though, music floods the air as you giggle amusingly at the sight of your mother and father dancing wildly as if there was no one else there. As if his injury was never there in the first place.

You look at Abraham, but to your delight you find he is already looking at you with a content smile on his face. It’s strange, to see the once hard working and duty driven man that is Abraham look so soft in your presence. But you must say, it certainly begins to grow on you almost annoyingly quickly.

“Do you, do you want to dance?” You stutter, scared he’d say no to your question. Only to your surprise, he doesn’t. Abraham murmurs his own version of an agreement, and takes your hand in his own, bringing a deep flush to your surprised face.

To your delight, he brings you to the very centre of the makeshift dancing area, and he holds you close to him as he begins to move you in time with his body. His hands clasped firmly against your waist and your hand, his face tucked next to yours.

“I didn’t get the chance to tell you earlier, but you look gorgeous…” Abraham murmurs, his breath tickling your ear sending shivers down your spine. “Made me forget about everything except the fact that you’re mine now. That you belong to me, and the fact that now…” He takes such a deep breath as he pauses that he almost causes the hair tucked behind your ear to fall loose. “That now I’m yours too.”

You can’t help yourself from grinning at his confession, nor can you dare think to stop yourself from kissing his cheek lightly. Showing your own silent appreciation for his words.

The two of you dance for a while. Content in each other arms. Dancing till you’re forced to confess how much your feet are aching in your shoes. Yet even when the two of you sit down, Abraham still keeps his firm hold on you, refusing to let go of your hand from his. The only time he actually let go being when he insisted on getting you some food to eat after the long day, glaring and seemingly harsh when he practically forbade you from standing and getting it for yourself. But as little as you really know your husband, you know he means the best in his words and his actions. As he had said earlier, he protects fiercely what he loves.

You’re so wrapped up in thoughts with a smile that you can’t help but flinch slightly when you feel a hand place itself on your shoulder, yet a brighter smile when you see you father looking down on you with his own tearful smile.

“The two of you looked happy together when you were dancing. I don’t think the poor boy wanted to let go of you!” He grins, sitting down next to you in an empty chair.

“I didn’t either!” You giggle, smiling so fondly you swear you can feel your cheeks begin to hurt.

“I’m glad. I’m so happy for you darling that you’re happy. You know, I just remembered the talking too I gave that boy before this...”

“Oh dad you didn’t!” You gasp with your hands over your mouth, a horrified look on your face as you think of all the worst things as possible that couldn’t happened between them.

“Oh you bet I did! I refused to allow this man one moment of thought that he could get away with hurting my little girl! I told him clearly and firmly, that if he hurt you in any way shape or form, that he’d have me and all the lads making sure he paid for it dearly!”

“Dad!” You groan, embarrassed and horrified as you laid you head in your hands, your cheeks no doubt a bright red right now from the shame.

“It’s true! I may have weak bones, but that doesn’t mean I can’t give him one for sure!” Your father insists, much to your utter horror. It gets even worse when another voice joins in the conversation…

“I agree sir!” Abraham speaks, two plates in his hands as he places one in front of you and one in front of himself as he sits in another empty chair to your left. When you look down to see what he’s gotten you, you’re quite delighted to see a lot of your favourite foods there waiting for you to eat them.

“Thank you.” You say to him, genuinely surprised and grateful for what he’s done for you just now.

“Don’t be,” He grunts, tucking into a sausage roll on his place. “I got your mother to help me. Didn’t want to get you anything you hated or were allergic too or something…”

You don’t respond, choosing what’s best to respond with is a small hum of agreement and nod, before placing your hand on his which lays on the table. You have to try and not let out an audible noise when Abraham seems to instinctively clench his fingers around yours and firmly hold you. Ever the possessive man it seems your husband will be.

Your father looks at the both of you fondly, and he gives you a small smile and a nod of his own before he leaves to most likely go to talk to your mother or some other person.

“Did you enjoy it. Today, I mean.” Abraham grunts again, pausing his movements to look at you so intently you feel your whole body flush.

“Yeah, I really did. Think it’s the best day of my life.” You smile, genuinely feeling almost euphoric seeing his bashful face that he tries to hide with his now free hand. Though to save his embarrassment you move to eat your own food with a smile, staring at the dance floor where Pal has somehow convinced your mother to dance with him, much to your amusement as you begin to giggle at the sight.

Soon though, the night comes to an end as the parents take the little kids home, and the adults who have no children have other adults take them home after getting absolutely shit faced drunk, much to Abrahams amusement who huffs a laugh at them.

Your parents come to the both of you and wish you well, as your belonging have apparently already been moved into Abrahams caravan so you could stay there tonight. And due to them knowing of Abrahams family situation, they wish him the best of luck too. Even giving him a hug which you swear leaves him looking brighter than earlier.

The two of you are the last people to leave the party, but a couple other members of the clan offer to help bring the presents people have given the both of you, which Abraham and you accept gratefully when you see the sheer size of a few of them. Though when you see some familiar wrapping you remember seeing in your mother’s wrapping box you can’t help but laugh slightly in reminiscence of it all.

Abraham and yourself make it to his caravan relatively quickly whilst being followed by those who’d offered to help. They came in and left rather quickly, putting the gifts on a countertop before leaving, saying their own little congratulations while they do. Leaving you and Abraham alone in the room to look at each other.

A strange sort of silence overwhelms you, and it’s with a small gasp you suddenly feel Abrahams hand on your cheek caressing your skin carefully and softly.

“I think, if it’s alright with you little, we continue what you left me with at the stables…”

#abraham x you #abraham grantchester #abraham fan fic #abraham fan fiction #abraham fanfic #abraham fanfiction #abraham smut #abraham x reader #abraham imagine #abraham #grantchester smut #grantChester #ewan mitchell character #Ewan Mitchell #ewan mitchell fanfiction #ewan mitchell fanfic #ewan mitchell x reader

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lemongrad · 10 months

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I think my favorite sub-genre of detective shows, besides the classic "grisly murders keep happening in absurdly picturesque villages", is "person who has absolutely no business being at a crime scene pairs up with a detective and provides surprising help from their actual area of expertise, and thoroughly annoys the cops while doing so"

#bonus points if its an old-timey show where the tag along represents a field now included in crime solving #like psychologist or (forensic) scientist #in other news grantchester is back on sunday hooray #mood #grantchester #vienna blood #father brown

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istanblogs · 8 months

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Brotherhood is about feelings, not only blood relative.

Grantchester - Sidney and Geordie

Poldark - Ross and Dwight

War and Peace - Pierre and Andrei

Tudors - Henry and Charles

Victoria - Albert and Ernest

Peaky Blinders - Thomas and Arthur

Bridgerton - Anthony and Benedict

Titanic - Jack and Fabrizio

Pride and Prejudice - Darcy and Bingley

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partywithponies · 8 months

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#midsomer murders #father brown #death in paradise #morse #lewis #endeavour #McDonald and Dodds #agatha raisin #grantchester

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ladyhawke · 8 months

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#two vicars walk into a prison cell

GRANTCHESTER 4.01

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hoosbandewan · 4 months

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EWAN MITCHELL as Abraham in Grantchester 3.05

#that ITV logo is my sleep paralysis demon #ewan mitchell #abraham #grantchester #abraham grantchester #grantchester itv #hoosbandewangifs #ewan mitchell edit #ewanmitchelledit

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ewanmitchellcrumbs · 4 months

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Sweet Nothings

Pairing: Abraham (Grantchester) x f!reader Warnings: Dirty talk, smut. Word count: ~1.4k

Summary: They had agreed to call it quits when Abraham's community moved on from Grantchester, however, the urge to keep in touch is too powerful for either of them to resist.

Author's note: Day five of the Smuffmas prompts - "letters and lingerie". No tag list. Follow @fics-by-ewanmitchellcrumbs and turn on post notifications.

Abraham had kissed her fiercely, his lips pressed tightly to hers as though he meant to steal the very breath from her lungs. He’d kissed her like it was the last time he ever would, because the reality of it was just that - he was moving on, this would be the last time their mouths would meet with such passion.

She had always known that this was coming; six weeks prior when they had begun their little tryst, they had agreed when his time in Grantchester came to an end, so too would their relationship.

That doesn’t stop the ache in her heart when that day finally arrives though, but she does her best to hold back her tears as she watches him walk away, not wanting to make this any more difficult than it already is. She swears when he looks back she sees a hint of regret cast back at her in the blueness of his gaze. Perhaps that is just her seeing what she wants to see though.

Two weeks pass, and she does her best to carry on as normal, despite the void that Abraham has left behind in her life.

That is until the day a letter passes through the letterbox, landing softly on the doormat. It’s addressed to her, though she doesn’t recognise the handwriting. Tearing it open, a warmth spreads through her chest, recognising the sender as she reads it.

Darling,

I know we said that this is it, but I can’t stop thinking about you. The pillow on my bed that you laid your pretty head upon still smells like you. I miss the warmth of you, the way your body fits against mine. I can still picture your smile, still hear your laugh, and I think I’m going crazy without you.

I’m sorry if hearing from me is upsetting for you, I just can’t stand the idea that some other bloke will make you smile, make you laugh, make you moan like I used to. I don’t expect you to write back, but I’d be over the moon if you did. We’re camped up at a place called Yaxley, just outside of Peterborough. If you do decide to write back, address it to the Yaxley post office, and I’ll pick it up. I’ll check every day to see if you’ve written.

Yours, always,

Abraham

The penmanship is a barely legible scrawl, and the letter is riddled with spelling errors, yet she can’t deny it makes her pulse race to know that he’s missing her, so she snatches up a pen and paper and writes back straight away.

Over the following weeks they write to each other frequently, talking about their days, professing their yearning for each other, and with every exchange their words grow more heated and passionate.

She gets an idea when one of his letters states that he is “missing the pretty little pink thing” she used to wear for him, knowing exactly the lingerie set he’s hinting at.

Slipping on the satin French knickers and matching brassiere, the material feels silky soft against her skin. Butterflies flutter in her belly remembering how the last time she’d worn this, Abraham had peeled it off her, his bright eyes following the path of it as it had fallen away from her body.

Setting up the polaroid camera, she takes several photos of herself in various provocative poses - ones she knows will make his blood run hot - jutting out her hip, pushing out her chest, arching her back, accentuating her curves and all of his favourite places to touch her.

Once she is satisfied that she has an adequately arousing selection, she settles down to write.

Abe,

Enclosed are pictures of that “pretty little pink thing” you love so much. I hope it satisfies your longing, though it does little to sate mine. I ache for the feel of your big, strong hands against my body, and I’m saddened that when this comes off once more it won’t be you that’s removing it.

Remember the last time I wore this? I do. If I close my eyes, I can still feel the weight of you on top of me, the feel of your lips against my skin, the wonderful ache between my legs as you moved against me.

I’d give anything for just one more night with you. I fear you have ruined me for all other men.

Yours forever.

The envelope she drops into the postbox the next day is thicker and heavier than usual, and she grins excitedly, imagining the smile on Abraham’s face when he eventually opens it.

For the next week, her gaze is fixed on the letterbox each morning, waiting for his reply to drop through, but nothing arrives and the disappointment she feels mounts by the day, sadness and embarrassment causing a heated feeling in her cheeks and a heaviness in her chest.

She has all but given up on the idea of him ever replying, thinking she has made a fool of herself, or worse still, that her letter has gotten lost, when one evening there’s a knock at her front door.

Strong arms wrap around her, and once more her breath is stolen away, as Abraham’s mouth descends upon hers, backing her up into the living room as he kicks the door closed behind him.

He cups her cheek, keeping her close to him when they eventually part for air, his chest heaving. “Couldn’t find the right words for what those photos made me wanna do to ya, so thought it best I just show you.”

She squeals as he throws her over his shoulder, carrying her towards the bedroom and depositing her onto the bed as though she weighs nothing. Propping herself up on her palms she looks at him in wide eyed excitement as he looms over, his darkened gaze roving over her form before moving to follow her.

He bumps her nose with his as he plants a hand either side of her head. She can feel how hard he is already through his trousers, as he presses himself against her, and it makes her core throb with want.

“First,” he whispers, “I want you naked, no flimsy underwear compares to the feel of you bare against me.”

She gasps, as he all but tears the clothes from her body, the barely audible pop of buttons and seams lost to the desperate need she feels for him as she pulls at his shirt and trousers in turn. Sighing in pleasure at the sensation of his skin against hers once more, she feels a sense of relief. Having him like this is like returning home after a prolonged absence.

He kisses her, and she whines when he pulls away, the gesture all too brief, though she is quick to giggle as his lips trail a path from her neck, all the way down her body until he’s positioned between her legs.

“Then,” he continues, eyes flitting up to meet hers. “I’m gonna taste you, see if you’re sweet as I remember.”

Her head falls back with a moan as he licks a line with the flat of his tongue from her opening to her pearl. The rumble of appreciation that growls within his throat vibrates through her, and she buries her hands in his hair, certain she is ruining the carefully waxed and styled coif, though he is making her feel too good for her to care.

His hands grip her thighs as alternates between lapping at her with quick precise movements, and fucking her with his tongue. As she feels herself on the crest of her pleasure, he pulls away, and she cries out in frustration.

He grins as he moves back up her body, his chin slick and shining with her arousal.

“Now, I wanna feel you squeeze around my cock until you peak,” he murmurs, lining the head of himself up with her and pushing slowly forward.

Her mind goes blank as he presses inwards, only able to focus on the stretch of him inside of her, causing her to arch against him.

“I want every thought to be gone from your mind, every thought but how good it feels when I fuck you,” he continues, keeping his thrusts slow and steady, “So that that’s what you’re thinking of when I leave again and ask you to come with me.” As she feels the pressure begin to build in her lower belly again, she knows there is no way she can say no to him. Letters just won’t be enough anymore after this, she needs all of him.

#abraham x reader #ewan mitchell #abraham grantchester #grantchester abraham #abraham x you #abraham x y/n #abraham imagine #abraham smut #abraham fan fiction #abraham fanfiction #abraham fan fic #abraham fanfic #grantchester fan fiction #grantchester #grantchester fanfiction #grantchester fan fic #grantchester fanfic

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barbieaemond · 6 months

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EWAN MITCHELL as ABRAHAM | GRANTCHESTER 3.05

#abraham #ewan mitchell #grantchester #barbieaemondgifs #i'm on fireeeee #liv in la vida loca

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geordieandhisvicars · 7 months

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this man. i love this man.

#geordie and sidney date night #geordie keating #grantchester #robson green #sidney chambers #james norton #s1e5

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myfandomprompts · 4 months

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Hey, I saw you did what Ewan's characters would be like with a girl daughter. And I admit that my curiosity was: What would each of Ewan's characters react to an unexpected pregnancy? Or announcement of a pregnancy

Or, opening new horizons, what would each person's relationship be like with their wife/girlfriend when they were pregnant? (if you want to use the reader for this part)

(I'm sorry if you're not accepting requests or something)

Hi! Thank you for the ask and it's truly okay and wonderful!

Headcanons: How would EwanVerse characters react to unexpected pregnancy?

Abraham

He hadn't even planned to stay with you, his only focus was on earning his place among the gypsies. Yes, he lied to himself about liking you, about being obsessed even, but at least he had managed to keep his emotions at bay. Until now. When he learns of your pregnancy, he gets mad, takes time for himself to think. Then he sees how miserable he had made you and his turmoil quickly turns into guilt. He can't stay away from you for long, let alone hurt you. You could be together after all, happy, and hell, that baby is his. What other beautiful manner to make his claim on you is there?

Aemond

War was raging, and he took you as his companion because he could, because as Prince Regent, no one will dare say a word against it. He had needs, impulses both of sinful nature and quiet affection, and you were meeting each of them perfectly. But when you don't bleed for two moons, he finally realises why he chose you, why he didn't 't care about being careful: he wanted you for himself, and having you round with his child would be the ultimate prize. You and the baby would be untouchable.

Billy Taylor

He feared it was going to happen. He had heard the stories so many times : people around with too much passion which caused unexpected things to happen ruined their lives, even reputations. It had scared him as much as elated him when he got to be with you, to touch you everywhere. And now, with the news of you pregnancy and amidst thinking of a way to tell his mother, he finds out that he would do it all again, thousand times over if life allowed it. He would be so very happy with your child.

Billy Washington

He wasn't supposed to have met with you again, or even to hook up. You, the ex he had a hard time forgetting about. But he guesses that once you harbour feelings for someone, it never really goes away. When you tell him, he is awestruck, not believing it, even asking you if it's his. It takes weeks for him to wrap his head around it, thinking what the hell he's going to do then he decides. Decides that he was delusional thinking he could live without you for a while, and that he won't let you go again. He never stopped loving you, and that baby will make everything right.

Ettore

You're just his neighbour, the only one who gets him, who sees him for what he is. He actually doesn't care about what people think of him, or what you think about him. Or maybe just a little. But he likes how you let him do things to you others wouldn't. When you tell him, he stays silent for a while, expressionless. "So?" he tells you, and when you slam the door in his face, he tries to convinced himself that he doesn't care. But in truth he can't stop thinking about it. About what it would feel like to have something as... precious with someone. How foreign it seems to him.

Genyen

He doesn't understand: you said you were fine with him being "just a friend", that you didn't want more, and it suited him fine. So why were you telling him that now? He can't do anything for you, he has nothing, even if he would like to. He would, truly, he finds himself thinking, provide for you if he could, for the baby. But it's the way you look at him with those shiny eyes and a hand on your belly that make him abandon any idea of disappearing on you. He'll stay, whatever you say he is to you.

Michael Gavey

He is euphoric. You're the girl of his dreams, and it seems surreal. He can give you everything you want, provide for you like you've never been cared for before, you don't need to be anxious about it all. He reassures you at once, already scheduling how you'll manage to graduate and have a beautiful baby at the same time, your baby. He won't ever let you go, and is already planning for the second one.

Osferth

You're the lady he can't believe he has, and when you announce that you're carrying his child, he can't help but feel guilty. He has promised himself never to sire a child, a bastard's bastard, and now he had brought shame on you. You would have been better without him, really, better with someone worthy of you. If only he had been more careful. What if you died in labour? What if the baby died? It's with those dark thoughts that he snaps out of it and decides that he will look after you until then. He will pray for you and the baby, be there for the both of you until life takes him.

Tom Bennett

He isn't even surprised, you're his girl after all. It's not like he had planned it, but it was bound to happen at some point. Deep down, Tom is a family man, always taking care of his folks, a fact he is finally brutally made aware of when you tell him the news and a warm feeling fills his chest. Now he just have to find a way to get you a ring. Maybe he'll have to steal it?

Will

It wasn't supposed to happen. You were supposed to get sick of him like everybody eventually did, and he was supposed to remain detached. But then here you are, saying you want to keep it and he allows himself to hope. Hope that maybe you truly love him, that maybe he'll finally have something of his own, something to share with you. Maybe he'll be able to let his guard down, like he always longed to. With this news, he felt like he wouldn't be hurt anymore.

I excluded Hoodie, Jack, Jason & Poacher.

#ewan mitchell #ewanverse #ewannation #osferth #aemond targaryen #headcanons #headcanon #michael gavey #will salad days #tom bennett #ettore #hotd #abraham grantchester #grantchester #genyen #bbc doctor #ewan nation #billy taylor #billy washington

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