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gimmethosedaddymilkers · 1 year

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Domestic Modern Arthur Headcannons

This was requested by an anon user! Hopefully you like it!!!

I am gonna tag these wonderful beauties to read this if they’d like!

@kieropal @mrsarthurmorgan7 @cantchoosejust1

Alright, y’all, domestic Arthur, that’s all that’s important, we love domestic cowboy sounds

I am SO excited to write this one >:)

The rest of the modern Arthur headcannons can be found here!

Warnings!: Fluff mainly, Arthur being a little happy husband who likes to be in the domestic life

Maybe a little smut, but like....it’s me come on, I always gotta warn about that

Arthur is a man who seems very wild and wacky, but he is actually VERY domesticated.

He LOVES

all that stuff

because it’s all he’s ever craved in his life

so, as I’ve previously mentioned in a different work

He loves to have you shave his beard, it’s one of his favorite things to have you sit up on the bathroom counter and he’ll stand between your legs and let you shave him.

He likes how gentle you are in comparison to him and how he does things.

You literally put him so at ease, like he almost falls asleep in your hands every time you do it, and like, you have to gently pat his cheek to make sure he doesn’t fall backwards or forwards and cut himself on the razor.

He also loves to take bathes with you, granted the two of you use the shower more than the tub, and he’ll join you in there too, but occasionally he’ll light up candles for you and put rose petals in the tub and you just

can’t say no

come on

you’re gonna tell him no?

You’re gonna tell him no, and look him in the face.

I didn’t think so.

Sometimes things are spicy, duh, but what he really likes in that bath is to wash your hair.

He likes it when you lay against his chest and he can just put the soap in your hair and massage your scalp.

He feels so happy to see you smile in the mirror next to the bath, and he loves just how close he feels to you when it happens.

You like to return the favor, wash his hair, wash his back for him, He loves the feel of your hands on him.

It’s his favorite thing.

He loves cooking for you too, even though he says he isn’t that good at it.

I mean, you know otherwise, but he thinks he isn’t that good.

He loves to make you breakfast specifically

I mean

he wakes up early to make you your favorite foods

Pancakes, waffles, hashbrowns, eggs, anything it is that you like he’ll learn to cook and get up early to make it before you wake up.

Granted he doesn’t do it every day, it’s just too nice to lay and cuddle with you for him to actually do it all the time.

Speaking of which

That is another one of his favorite things to do

He LOVES

cuddling with you.

He likes to wake up early and pull you close, your back to his chest and he’ll rub your stomach, and wait until you wake up.

He’ll mutter all kinds of sweet things in your ear

“Good mornin’ darlin.”

“My Sweetheart”

“I love ya, did ya sleep good?”

He’ll turn off your phone alarm too before you can be woke up abruptly.

He’ll wake you up in the gentlest way

Kissing your shoulder, and your neck until you do.

On nice days after working all day he loves to sit outside on the front porch with you, maybe having a drink, and he’d draw you too, smiling as you pose funny.

He takes pictures of you all the time too, when you aren’t looking, when you are looking, his favorites are when you’re asleep, you look so peaceful and so happy.

He takes screenshots of you on facetime when the two of you are apart.

If for some reason the two of you can’t sleep in the same bed for the night he’ll call you and refuses to hang up before he goes to sleep.

So the two of you often fall asleep on the phone

A lot of his phone wallpapers come from that

He uses your wedding photos when the two of you get them back.

Sometimes if he has a bad day he’ll just come in the door and not say a word

He’ll just come in, see you on the couch, kick his boots off and crawl onto the couch with you, he’ll put his head on your thighs and fall asleep.

Especially if you play with his hair and massage his scalp.

He’ll hum and rub your leg where his head is in response to show his appreciation.

If he falls asleep on your leg you just have to be patient and wait until he wakes up to get up

You usually don’t care though.

When he wakes up he’ll talk to you about what upset him but you gotta kinda coax it out of him.

He is also the kind of guy who never wants to go to bed angry, especially if it’s at you, or at a fight the two of you had earlier.

Like if you argued over bills or something?

Firstly, he hates financial stuff, he hates sitting down and doing the taxes with you, or dealing with them in general, just because he literally feels like he’s not doing enough for you.

So if you two argue over bills or something like that he gets so upset with himself.

Granted he gets mad with himself no matter what if he argues with you

And he ALWAYS apologizes to you afterwards.

Like he literally always apologizes and explains that it was his fault (Even if it wasn’t and you have to tell him that it wasn’t his fault)

Obviously you apologize for your mistakes too, you don’t want to go to bed angry either.

The two of you are very loving towards each other, and you rarely do fight but when you do you always fix the problem.

When Arthur has the day off, and you do not, he’ll do his job around the house, take care of the animals outside (Obviously y’all live on a small farm, horses and just a couple of cows)

He’ll then take his time to clean the inside of the house for you, he’ll make sure that he does the dishes, takes out the trash, vacuums and sweeps the house.

He wipes down counters, cleans the bathrooms, and after all that he still has a free day to himself

He’ll usually call up John or Javier, sometimes Bill or Charles and go out riding Quads or ATV’s for the day

He’ll come back after you get home and he’s covered in mud

Which, he just cleaned the house, and then he tracks it all back in

He means well but sometimes he doesn’t think his ideas all the way through.

He also insists on the two of you having date night at LEAST once a week, and if you can’t do that at least twice a month

Sometimes even more than once a week if you two can manage it

Usually its on fridays or saturdays

and he’s literally so good at dates

like when the two of you first started dating he was awful at it

but the longer you’ve been together the better he’s gotten

I mean

he’ll spring dates on you all the time

take you out to eat, to the movies

hell sometimes date night is at the house, he’ll make dinner, and set up the kitchen with romantic lighting

He’s just....

He is amazing at it.

He’ll take you out to whatever kind of activities you love to do

If you like to golf, he’ll take you golfing, if you like shopping, he’ll take you shopping

He literally just wants to spend time with you, he’d do whatever he could as long as you’re having fun with him.

He is literally so romantic

MY GU Y

he will flash that smile at you and you just cannot resist him

I mean

he loves to smirk at you, he knows how much you love that little toothy smirk and every time that he does that you get all red in the face and it’s his favorite thing

However he loves it when you tease him all day

Like, send this man a text while he’s out working at the mechanic shop, he will open it and instantly hide his phone from everyone around him

He claims he hates it cause it works him up all day, but come on

we all know

he loves it

he loves it so much

so do it

It’s one of his most favorite things

If you do tease him all day he will come home from work, and make a bum rush for you

SEEK AND DESTROY

He’ll find you and more than likely wherever it is he finds you

that’s where you’re getting screwed.

You’re in the kitchen?

I hope you didn’t like your clean countertops

The bedroom?

Good, that’s where the magic usually happens

Out in the barn?

Get ready, you will have hay in your cracks.

Living Room?

Against the window with a fistful of your hair in his hand

He knows what he wants and he doesn’t care what you’re doing, he gets home after you’ve teased him all day and it’s time to get down to business

His favorite thing to do is grab your thighs, so no matter what he’s going for them

They’re his favorite part of your body, if he had to pick one anyway.

He also loves your ass, but he loves your face too, because he thinks you’re absolutely beautiful, gorgeous, I mean, absolutely stunning.

He loves all of you, obviously.

But he does have his favorites just like you do

I mean

come on

we all know that our favorite part of Arthur is his thighs/ass

That and that wide ass chest of his.

He loves to fuck you

literally loves to

he’s bored?

Gonna see if you wanna fuck

tired but not tired enough?

Gonna see if you wanna fuck

Wakes up early and you’re still sleeping?

He’s gonna probably stick his hand in your pants to wake you up

He doesn’t like just having sex, like that’s not it, it’s specifically with you

It has to be sex with you

he knows its a natural thing that everyone does, and obviously he doesn’t cheat on you

he is NOT that kinda guy

but like, what I mean is that it’s not something he’s like actively interested in, UNLESS its with you

He likes to go to rodeos sometimes with the guys

He knows you don’t like them

but he always asks anyway because he wants you to be included

He doesn’t like a lot of the things you do but he appreciates that you ask him anyway so he does the same for you

The two of you do like to go to the county fair together

Whenever it’s in town that’s when Arthur gets to dress up in his full Cowboy outfits

belt with the belt buckle

jeans

boots

button down

suspenders

hat

he even busts out the chaps which you LOVE

and he knows it

it’s literally so funny

He shakes his ass at you on purpose cause he knows how you love his chaps.

The entire family goes to the County Fair too, it’s not just the two of you, John, Abigail, Lenny, Javier, Dutch, Hosea, Bill, Susan, all of ‘em

Mary-Beth and Karen you have to watch out for

they tail everyone around the fair and sneak up and scare you

it’s funny to them

Arthur will win you stuffed animals even when you don’t ask him to

He loves to win them for you

When you go home you’re tired as hell so he drives

and you fall asleep with your head on his shoulder

and he loves it

literally loves it so much

he feels so loved

and it’s just

all he’s wanted in life always

I WILL DO MORE OF THESE IF Y’ALL WANT EM I LOVE DOMESTIC ARTHUR

#rdr2 #rdr2 community #Rdr2 Headcannons #arthur morgan #arthur morgan rdr2 #arthur morgan headcannons #Red Dead Redemption 2 #red dead redemption 2 drabble

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sad-sweet-cowboah · 3 years

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Always A First

Summary: Sometimes when you looking for information, you end up learning something completely different. With your newfound knowledge, you decide to try it on Arthur one day.

Warnings: Oral smut

Word Count: 2,201

A/N: I remember learning that giving head/eating out wasn't very popular in the 1800's, at least in America, but was favored in other countries more. I don't see many stories where Arthur receives and he doesn't know what's going on. Cute little experimentation!

The sun slowly began to settle within the horizon, easing the sodden, swampy landscape of just a touch of heat. Below you, the remainder of the camp seemed quiet compared to the festivities of last night, drawing into almost the early morning hours celebrating the return of little Jack Marston. It only seemed as if you were asleep for mere moments before rising again to begin the morning chores.

While you weren’t much of a homebody, you elected to stay in camp today, helping the others clean up whilst Arthur left yet again. Most of your time was spent clearing empty amber bottles and scrubbing dishes. Once you’d finished that, you wandered back up to yours and Arthur’s shared bedroom.

While Shady Belle’s run-down appearance hardly made for a luxurious living space, you did your best in making it homely and comfortable. Folding freshly cleaned clothes, sweeping away dirt and dusting around the few knick-knacks, you finished the look by placing a small bouquet of flowers found nearby on the desk that held his map. It certainly looked somewhat more appealing than when you first arrived. Keeping it decently clean was something you took pride in, especially whenever Arthur proceeded in longer excursions.

It was around dusk when you caught wind of Arthur’s return, his deep voice carrying upward through the cracked windows as he greeted the others on the grounds. You smiled to yourself, excitement building in your chest.

Within minutes you detected the heavy footfall of his boots climbing the creaky steps, closer and closer across the worn floorboards until the door opened.

Aquatic eyes met yours, accompanied with a soft smile. “Hey, sweetheart,” he greeted, opening his arms to pull you into a tight embrace. His lips found yours in a brief kiss, and his gripped loosened as he leaned back to peer at you once again. “How’s your day been?”

“Just fine, I spent it cleaning,” you reply with a gesture around the room.

Arthur looked around for the first time, pausing at the flowers on the table. His smile widened a bit. “I like what you’ve done.”

“Thank you, so what did you do?”

“Ah, nothin’ out of the ordinary,” he released you to pull the satchel off from his torso, placing it on wrought iron head post of the bed, his hat and gun belt shortly following. “Seein’ if there’s anything worthwhile out there.”

You could hear the exhaustion in his voice. See the stiffness in his movement. These past few weeks certainly had taken a number on him, even when he himself wouldn’t admit it. Between the constant move and threat of Pinkertons down everyone’s necks, and Jack’s kidnapping, Arthur was seemingly like a nonstop machine. You voiced your concerns, wishing he’d at least take a day for himself, but like a stubborn workhorse, would always refuse.

And that’s why you’d come up with this little idea of yours.

The sound of your own name pulled your from your thoughts, and you focused on him again. He was facing you, an expectant look on his face.

“Huh?”

He chuckled lightly. “Looks like you got your head in the clouds.”

You half-smiled and said, “Kinda,” you step forward, placing your hands against the soft fabric of his shirt. “Arthur, I want to try something.”

“Hm?”

Without clarifying, you lightly ball his shirt in your fists, stretching up on your toes to kiss him again. He complied easily, his nearly rigid frame softening with your touch. This time it was deeper, slower, more passionate. It didn’t take much longer for him to figure out the gist of what was on your mind.

His hands wandered to your lower back, pulling you flush with his body. Despite this he parted his lips just an inch from yours. “This ain’t new, you know that right?” he lightly quipped, a hint of huskiness already in his voice. “Ain’t gotta ask to try.”

You giggle, giving him a sly grin. “You don’t even know what I’m gonna do yet.”

“Not hard to guess, sweetheart,”

“Yeah?” you challenge, “I guarantee you won’t.”

He raised his eyebrows at you. Before he could even have a second to respond, you kiss him again, curling your fingers into his hair. He hummed into you, greedy hands toying at the hem of your skirt. Your hips pressed against his, providing the slightest friction until your efforts yielded a soft moan.

Before he made an effort to remove any of your clothing, you broke from his arms, taking a moment to observe him completely. His cheeks had a slight pinkish hue, eyes glazed over with lust, a strain on his jeans where his arousal began.

“Darlin’ –”

Reaching forward, you palm him through his pants, his words melting into a low groan. Your free hand made quick work of his suspenders, peeling them from his broad shoulders, effectively loosening the jeans before you unbuttoned them. You freed him of his confinements, your palm resting against the hot, velvety flesh of his length.

Arthur immediately reached for you, though you stopped him midway by grabbing his wrist. He stared in confusion.

“Let me take care of you,” you whisper to him. “Since you’re always carrying so much weight, it’s only fair I do something for you.”

His lips parted as if he were about to question further, but decided against it, his arm going limp in your grip and his eyes on you with curiosity. Smiling sweetly at him, you release his wrist and then push him back, guiding him until he sat on the bed. Only then did you kneel before him, your eyes never leaving his.

Pushing his knees open, you scoot forward, face close to his awaiting cock. A new and invigorating route for you, and what you could tell from his expression, to him as well.

“What’re you up to?” he quietly asked, curiosity plain on his face.

Your only answer was a wink. From what you heard, this maneuver was a favorite in Europe, sometimes even more than actual penetration. If there was truth from the harlots in Saint Denis, it would bring you nothing but joy to see Arthur melt from just your mouth.

Your lips surrounded the tip, tongue darting forward to explore the smooth surface. Arthur’s breath hitched. And inch by inch, you engulfed him, struggling somewhat from his width.

“Oh,” he sighed, his chest fluttering unevenly. “My God….”

Music to your ears.

You pressed your tongue against his velvet flesh, bobbing your head in a slow pace. His quiet moans soon filled the room, tangled with hushed praise of your name. His fingers snaked into your hair with a loose hold.

This encouraged you, quickening only slightly, taking more and more with each pass. You distinctly remembered someone mentioning to squeeze your thumb to dull the inevitable of your gag reflex coming to play, and that’s what you did.

You couldn’t count how many times you’ve taken him the proper way; from that very first night he slid into you, the way you winced as he stretched your inner walls, his sweet caresses and gentle words to help ease the discomfort into unforgettable pleasure. Having experience it in a different orifice was a completely different playing field.

What else did they say to do?

Your hand cupped beneath, massaging his balls with reserve. He seemed to like that; his groans deepened as his palm pressed lightly against your head.

“Shit… that feels so damn good,” he panted, his legs trembling on either side of you.

The corners of your lips turned upward into a smile, though from his end it would be impossible to see. As you grew more comfortable, you continued to go faster, further spurred by the faint throbbing of his cock against your tongue.

He swore again, pressure of his hand even heavier now, all but forcing you to take him to the hilt. He easily reached the back of your throat. Good Lord was it a strange sensation. Tears burned at the edge of your eyes as you kept yourself still, knowing one wrong move could have you gagging around him.

Arthur’s breaths were heavy, his gaze finding yours again. “Sweetheart,” he grunted, easing the pressure from your head. “Ain’t gonna last much longer.”

You heeded his warning. You wanted to prolong it, to allow him to truly enjoy himself instead of being quick. Stolen moments of intimacy were often far and few in between, and that last time either of you had pleasured one another was at least a month ago. You slowed yourself, releasing his balls to smooth your hands up and down his thighs, using your eyes to hopefully give him the message: Relax.

He seemed to take the hint, leaning back and taking a deep breath. You settled yourself to a medium pace; focusing on each ridge and prominent vein aligning his length. He kept his eyes on you, reflecting pure ecstasy within. His free hand found yours, clasping it while he groaned your name once again. You turned your hand to wind your fingers between his, absolutely enjoying every moment.

Just listening, seeing, feeling how aroused he was…settled a spark deep within you. A faint pulse radiated down below that you mentally pushed aside. It would be so easy to just get up and ride him, to finish the job and collapse upon each other for the night, but your own pleasure should be waysided for the time being.

You decided to engulf him whole again, proving easier than the first time. He growled out a breathless “fuck,” as his hips bucked up, pushing him even further down your throat. Holy shit.

“S-sorry,” he mumbled, realizing how far he’d gone. He reached to stroke your hair, but you only hummed to him, indicating you were fine. The sheepish look still remained on his face, a shy smile crossing his lips. “Uh…can I do that again? That felt real good.”

Hell, how could you say no to that? You hummed again to him in approval.

He smiled wider, stroking your hair once more before resting it against your head. His hips moved beneath you, sliding himself in and out of your mouth. He was gentle with you rather than the abrupt and forceful attempt earlier, which you appreciated.

Even though you were supposed to have the helm, Arthur using you like this only intensified your arousal. You squeezed your thighs together, ignoring the growing heat between them, though the pressure provided just the opposite. Breathing deeply through your nose, you brought your focus on the heated, pulsating extension of your lover.

His own breath was prominent, stuttering and disjointed. You could tell he was nearing his peak. But you wanted to reclaim your charge, holding onto the top of his thighs until he slowed to a stop. Eyes unblinking, you held his gaze evenly, bobbing your head for those final moments.

Arthur’s hand tangled within your locks. His lips parted, huffing out deep groans and swears. His hand knuckled against your crown, meeting your mouth with a sudden buck – strings of his spend painting the inside of your mouth. A satisfied sigh curled in the thick air.

He stopped. You stopped. Both held in a familiar, static moment of bliss and satisfaction. The taste on your tongue was surprisingly mild compared to your previously fantasy-driven assumption. You pulled away from him, popping your lips off the dripping tip with a small, audible pop. A single rivulet of the pearlescent fluid cascaded down his length, and your tongue darted forward to catch it, earning you a shiver.

And then you swallowed. A preferred method, as so they say.

Your own name was carried by a breathless whisper. He loosened the near-vice grip within your tresses. His chest heaved with a gulp of air. It seemed as if every bone in Arthur’s body dissolved into jelly, limp against the mattress. Slowly he sat upright, staring at you as if you were divine.

“Where… did you learn that?” he finally questioned, leaning in and reaching out to your face to wipe away a small bead of saliva hanging from the corner of your mouth.

Smiling, you rocked forward to kneel upright, your face closer to his. “Learned a thing or two from the girls in Saint Denis. I, uh…got distracted when we were trying to get information on Bronte,” you admitted.

A look of realization dawned upon Arthur’s face, then shifted to a half smirk. “So that’s what you were doin’ all that time?” he chuckled. “Well, guess I gotta thank those girls,” he trapped your face with one hand, pulling you into a deep kiss. Slowly he drew you into his lap, his arm wrapping snugly around your waist.

Finally his lips parted from yours, a telltale glint in his eyes reflecting brightly. “Now…” he murmured, quick fingers trailing along the curve of your hip, hooking his finger within the waistline of your skirt. “I ‘spose my lady needs a favor returned…”

A sweet smile stretched across your face. “They did teach me a little about that,” you giggled. “Perhaps you wanna learn too?”

Arthur smirked. “Can’t say no to you, princess.”

#Arthur Morgan #Arthur Morgan x reader #Arthur Morgan x reader smut

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theshelbyclan · 3 years

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Welcome to the chaos, little one

Summary: Giving birth is never easy, especially when it’s a Shelby x Solomons baby…

A/N I’m so slow with requests but a while back the lovely @fandom-puffrequested: Omg sorry to be a pain but I’m a sucker for Shelby chaos 😭😭😭 can I request something linked to A Very Shelby Christmas where the labour of baby Solomons is just as chaotic? But it could also be sweet like the bros finally accepting Alfie bc they all care about YN so much and can’t stand to hear her in pain, all while YN is screaming that she’ll cut off more of Alfie’s dick than his rabbi would even dare to if he ever tried to bed her again 😭😭😭 omg the chaos 👉👈 ily 💓💓 Here we go! This is part 2 to the story A Very Shelby Christmas

Words: 1638

***

“Not now, Y/N,” Arthur groaned. Ada rolled her eyes, remembering keenly when her brother had spoken those iconic words before. “It’s not like I can help it, Arthur,” you spit.

Polly grabbed you by your arm as you doubled over again, “Alright, sweetheart, it’s time. Come with me…” “Not yet, Aunt Pol,” you panted, “It’s too early.” “The baby doesn’t have it’s own pocket watch yet,” Ada commented matter-of-factly, as she took your other arm. “Fuck!” you called out again as another contraction set in, “Fuck, fuck, fuckity-fuck!” “Nice.” “Oh, piss off John, you want to try this?” “Not really…” “Tommy!” you turned to the one family member who hadn’t said a word yet, “Get him.” “And who would that be, eh?” he replied in a low voice. “Thomas…” Aunt Polly warned softly. He raised his eyebrows, “Finn? You want Finn at the birth?” “WHY WOULD I WANT MY FUCKING BABY BROTHER HERE?!” Tommy waved a vague hand, “General comfort?” Now Aunt Polly’s eyes flashed with anger, “Thomas! Go get her husband, right now!” Tommy sighed deeply, still trying to ignore the fact that his little sister was now Mrs. Solomons, and said, “Come on boys, let’s get them all together and wet this baby’s head! Leave the women to it.” And you groaned, “Thank you…” Once Alfie would be here, everything would be easier.

*** “Solomons!” “No need to shout, mate, I’m right here, ain’t I?”

Slowly Tommy lit a cigarette and started smoking it, “It concerns my sister.” “You mean the glorious creature that made me the luckiest man on earth by marrying me? My wife? Mrs. Alfie Solomons?” A small twinkle appeared in Alfie’s eyes as he saw Tommy’s jaw tense up just a little at his words. “Yes.” “How is the old lady doing?” Alfie asked conversationally. “In pain,” Tommy replied, “She’s in labour, more to the point.” “You fucking what?” “She’s with her aunt Alfie, she’ll be fine.” Alfie blinked a few times, “Tommy I swear to God if you’re playing some fucking game with me I will shoot you between the eyes right here and now. You’re telling me my wife is in labour and you’re standing there casually smoking a cigarette, waiting for some fucking woman to tell you it’s done?” “Yes,” he nodded, “Well, I was about to go the Garrison. Thought we might bury the hatchet and you could join us.” “Have you lost your fucking mind…” Alfie said slowly, while rubbing his chin. Tommy cleared is throat and with a slight hint of uncertainty in his voice said, “It’s tradition.” “Well, if you’ll pardon my French, fuck your fucking heathen traditions, I’m going to my fucking wife and you are fucking coming with me. And bring your fucking family while you’re at it!”

*** “Why are we here?” John leaned in to Arthur slightly while asking the question in a hushed voice. “Alfie insisted.” “Why?” Arthur raised his voice, “Ask Tommy, alright? I don’t bloody know! I’m guessing it’s another Jewish thing…” On the other side of the door, you were most definitely in labour now. The pain was worse than anything you’d experienced before and you were seriously questioning your sanity at this point. “Aunt Pol?” Ada asked carefully after about an hour. Polly moved over from your side down to your legs and said, “What is it?” “Something’s wrong.” “THOMAS!” Polly bellowed as soon as she had taken a look, “Get me some more towels.”

“What’s happening?” A panicked Alfie asked from the hallway. But Polly pushed him aside and started ordering Finn to boil more water. “Woman!” he demanded, “You fucking tell me.” “She’s bleeding,” she answered quickly, “and I can’t see why.” “What can we do, Pol,” Arthur asked, wild-eyed. “Get a doctor. One we can trust.” Arthur dragged John with him, even before Polly had finished her sentence. “What about Sabini’s men?” John asked, “We were supposed to deal with them tonight. What if they come here?” “Shoot them,” Tommy said simply, as he lit another cigarette in a nervous manner. Inside the room, you were now screaming your head off. Of course you had realised giving birth would be painful, but not like this. The sight of Ada going slightly pale didn’t help either and panic had started mixing in with the general anxiety of the process, so your screams got louder and louder. “Pol…” Ada called out again, “What do I do?” In that moment, Alfie pushed passed her and fell down by your side, “I’m here,” he said softly. “I can see that,” you panted between shouts, “but why? You’re not supposed to be here.” “Out,” Aunt Polly said strictly, “This is no place for men.” And then Tommy walked in as well, averting his eyes and grabbing your hand at the same time. “What?” he said when Polly send him a death-glare, “If Alfie gets to stay, so can I!” “Fucking children…” “Alright, sweetheart,” Polly focused on you again, “This baby needs to come now.” Your eyes grew wide, “What’s wrong?” “Nothing,” Alfie replied for her, “You’ll be fine. You’re doing brilliant, babes.” “How the fuck would you know!” you shouted out. He shrugged, “Educated guess?” “Had a lot of experience with this, eh?” Tommy grumbled sarcastically. “This,” Ada pointed at the both of them, “This is why men shouldn’t be in here.” “I’m not fucking going anywhere, especially if my wife is in danger.” Tommy just shook his head in reply. “Danger?” you asked suddenly, “What does he mean in danger?” “No danger, love,” Ada soothed you, “if you just push.” And so you pushed, with every bit of strength you had in you. But then a gunshot sounded outside, followed rapidly by another two. Everyone looked up. “John,” Tommy clarified with a single word. “You’re being awfully cavalier about baby brother John getting shot there, Tommy…” Alfie commented. Tommy looked at Alfie with a frown that spoke volumes, “John just shot Sabini’s men. I told him to.” “Oh, good. Saves me the bloody trip.” “I can see some hair!” Ada called out suddenly. “What colour?” Alfie replied at once. And John stuck his head around the corner of the door, “Took care of them.” “We heard,” Aunt Polly grumbled. He hopped from one foot onto the other uncertainly, “Anything else I can do?” “Yeah, you can fuck off mate!” “Alright, I’ll stay, since you asked so nicely.” “John, just get the fuck out!” your sister shouted. The birth was chaos enough as it was and now all these boys were only adding to it instead of helping. And on top of it all, Finn stumbled in practically falling over his own feet with a bucket of water, splashing Aunt Polly in the process. This was more like a madhouse than a family occasion. But John pointed at Alfie indignantly, “He gets to stay!” “Push, Y/N,” Polly urged again, and so you did. “Nice one,” John laughed at Finn, “you literally had one job, mate.” “Mrs. Gray?” Alfie asked carefully, “Sorry to interrupt you there, alright, but I just wanted to quickly check, because you mentioned the hair, yeah? What colour? Because I’m sure I’ll love my son all the same if he’s blond, but I might just need to mentally prepare myself…” And then you finally burst out in anger, “Can you all just shut the fuck up for a second! I’m actually trying to have a fucking baby here!!” “Right, sorry about that love,” Alfie moved closer to you and grabbed your hand again, “Please continue. You’re doing brilliantly, even if he is blond…” Tommy chuckled lightly in the background, which made you even more angry somehow, “Alfie, I swear to God or Adonai or whatever you want to call him, do nottouch me again because remember how you said you couldn’t remember your circumcision?”

“Yes,” Alfie mumbled in mortal fear.

“You will remember when I do it. Remember how you told me of your rabbi doing it when boys are eight days old, because then it heals faster?”

“Yes...” he gulped.

“I’ll make it slow sweetheart. Really fucking slow.”

“Right,” he said with big eyes, “What exactly would you have me do then except for just standing here like some great big bloody useless piece of shit?”

“Shut up!”

“Noted.” *** You weren’t sure what had happened exactly in that last hour. Apparently you’d lost a lot of blood and things had gotten hazy very quickly. Ada and Aunt Polly had stopped talking altogether and they had managed to save you, despite the bickering men in the background. You did remember that Alfie and Arthur had gotten into a fight at one point, but apparently they managed to resolve it quickly when the doctor arrived and they took turns in beating him up because he was no longer needed. Anger really does bring people together.

Of course, none of that really mattered now, because you were now holding a perfect baby right there, in your arms. Finn just stared at the baby, completely in awe. “Not blond…” John sounded a little disappointed. Arthur grinned, “But bloody perfect.” “Gorgeous, just like the mother,” Polly hugged you carefully. “Shelby good looks.” Tommy nodded slowly, with a sense of pride in his voice. “Any names yet?” Ada asked, “I bet you’ve picked them out ages ago, haven’t you?” “I have,” you smiled, “but couldn’t say them out loud yet, so we didn’t really discuss it. It’s bad luck.”

Uncharacteristically, Alfie hadn’t said a word yet.

“Mr. Solomons?” you said, gazing up from your one love to the other, “I believe you have a daughter.” And finally he smiled, deeply and incredibly in love as he held her tight with both hands. And in the most tender way possible he looked at you, grinned and said, “Fucking hell!”

***

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21stcenturygworl · 2 years

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oh thank, i need some good charles content i love that man just as much as i do arthur, maybe smth soft w the big man w either a modern au or modern reader giving him the love and attention He Deserves 👏🏻 aka giving him the best blowie of his life 🥴

🧍🏻‍♀️ babes im not in a good place rn…. not mentally i just mean im in france xx HAHAHAH anyway moth here’s ur request fulfilled, no explicit smut bc im in the car with my in-laws 💀 ENJOY BB!!

Lazy Mornings

Modern!AU, Charles x Reader, no pronouns for reader

Sinking into soft sheets, your body doesn’t quite want to leave your little nest yet. Hands reaching out, you seek your lover, but are left sorely disappointed when you find that his side of the bed is empty.

“Charles?” you call out for him, voice raspy from sleep.

The door to the bathroom opens, and your sweetheart walks out with an endearing smile. “Sorry, did I wake you?”

You have to suppress your groan. Fresh out of the shower, hair tied up, and droplets clinging to the skin of his broad chest. A towel is wrapped precariously low around his hips. Just the way you like him. You swallow thickly. “No, I just woke up. Why are you up so early? It’s the weekend.”

“I’ve got errands to run,” he tells you, walking over to your side of the bed and pressing a kiss to your forehead. “Gotta head into town for a bit. Do you need anything?”

“You.” Your hands are already reaching out to him to pull him back into bed with you. Charles doesn’t budge, much larger and stronger than you are. Instead, he chuckles, and God is it one of the most beautiful sounds in the world. You whine a little. “Baby, please? Come cuddle with me?”

He hums, such a pleasant and low sound, then relents. “Alright.”

You’re completely giddy when Charles turns around to go put away the towel covering him, and you allow yourself the indulgence of checking him out. There is a God, you think, and she must have personally sculpted Charles’ body. Because those broad shoulders, that muscled back, and that perfect taper to his waist is just divine.

(And you like his booty too, of course.)

He turns around and you force your eyes to go back to his face instead of letting him catch you checking him out so shamelessly. It’s not long before he slips into bed with you, under the covers once again. Arms wrapped around you and legs tangled, you think this is exactly where the two of you belong, together.

“I love you,” you murmur into the crook of his neck, smelling his soap.

A gentle kiss is pressed to your forehead. “I love you too.”

You hum in approval, grabby little hands roaming across his sides and his chest. They slide lower, and lower… and the words “what are you up to?” rumble in Charles’ chest.

You kiss the hollow of his throat, and then the skin above his collarbone, and then the valley of his beautiful chest. Your lashes flutter against his skin. “I’m gonna spoil you,” you murmur.

Charles takes a deep breath, before lying on his back, and deciding that you can do whatever you want to him.

#i want charles to lie down and i want to lie directly on top of him #i think that would fix all of my problems tbh #charles smith x reader #writing request #gothicfaggot #ty for the request moth!! 💖💖

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cherienymphe · 3 years

Text

Gangsta’s Paradise (Michael Gray x Reader)

WARNINGS: DUB-CON BORDERLINE NON-CON, blackmail, loss of virginity, (for the sake of this fic let’s pretend that Finn Cole is taller than what he is okay)

! DNI IF THIS OFFENDS YOU !

➥ divider by @firefly-graphics

summary: an agreement with the Peaky Blinders is almost a done deal...until you catch the eye of Michael Gray. You’re suddenly thrust into the equation, and your father must decide between losing everything or losing you.

Soft lips brushed over your bare shoulder, even softer hands guiding the strap of your slip down your arm, fingers dancing along your skin. Despite the cold weather outside, your room was sweltering, and you pinned it onto the man behind you...the man who was currently unwrapping you like a gift. With fear coursing through your frame, you realized that in a way, you were a gift. A pretty little gift given to the big bad gangster in exchange for resources and protection and whatever else your family needed.

Your eyes fell closed, and you thought back to the day where your father’s desperation had first begun. Desperation that you had ultimately underestimated.

You had been nervous as you tended to the dishes that day, glancing at the clock every now and then. Cleaning and tidying up was how you coped, how you attempted to calm yourself. It normally worked, but today was an exception. Looking around, you realized that there was nothing else to clean, and with a sigh, you leaned against the wall, biting your lip.

The rest of the family had gone to Birmingham. They’d gone to handle...business, and you being the only girl in the family since your mom died, you weren’t allowed to have a hand in the business. It had been a great deal of bitterness for you for years, ever since you were old enough to understand what was really going on, but now you had gradually accepted your father’s reasoning.

Your father and brother and uncles had left early, taking some of their best men with them. You knew they only did that for serious matters, and you had been worried ever since you saw them leave. You had scrubbed the house from top to bottom, and now you had nothing to do but wait. It was fortunate that you didn’t have to wait for much longer, hearing several cars come down the driveway.

No one greeted you when you opened the door, faces pinched and sullen, and you knew then that things didn’t go as expected. The only one to acknowledge you was your father, the older man pressing a quick kiss to your forehead before trudging inside with the rest. You swallowed, conflicted on whether or not you should say anything, but your worry got the best of you.

“How did it go?”

Before your father could answer, you heard your brother slam his hand into the wall, the pictures shaking from the force.

“Peaky fucking Blinders,” he spat, and your blood ran cold.

Your eyes met your father’s, and he gave you a look as if to say leave it alone, but you were in shock. You had never imagined that your family would start doing business with the likes of them. Everyone had heard of them, knew who they were and what they did, and the thought of your family being involved with them in any way was a terrifying one.

Everything those men touched turned to poison

“Father,” you had chided as soon as you walked into his office moments later.

From behind his desk, he held a hand up, the other pressed to his forehead as he sighed.

“Not now, Y/N,” he said, sounding tired.

“You promised that things would be different,” you whispered, ignoring his words. “You told me that we would start becoming legitimate, legal. That we’d start doing things right.”

“Y/N-.”

“You promised.”

He slammed his hand down onto the wood, making you wince.

“They’ve got their hand in every cookie jar that matters. Thomas Shelby is a political man, now-.”

You cut him off with a scoff, folding your arms over your chest.

“Only a fool would get mixed up with the likes of them.”

He shot you a scathing look, and you swallowed, looking away with a sigh.

“We need their influence, their resources...their allyship.”

Your eyes widened at this, realizing that your father intended for much more than a one time business deal.

“You can’t be serious,” you murmured.

He didn’t respond right away, simply heaving a sigh before turning his attention to the paperwork before him.

“I will do my best to keep you away from all this, but prepare yourself for seeing a lot more of them, eh?”

He didn’t say anything more, and when it became apparent that that was the end of the discussion, you turned and left. You could hear your brothers and uncles murmuring in the kitchen, going over the day’s events, no doubt, and you made your way upstairs. You never knew exactly what it was that your father sold, but you figured that drugs and alcohol was the gist of it. He’d been in the business for a long time, and he’d made a promise to you that he was going to put a stop to it. That he’d start making money the right way.

Getting mixed up with the Shelbys, the Peaky Blinders, was not the way to go about it.

You understood the appeal though. They had power, resources, influence. With them as an ally, people would think twice about screwing your family over...but was it worth it? Was it worth the increase in violence? Putting the family in the kind of danger you could never even imagine? Was it worth the devastation and death that seemed to follow them like a plague? The answer was simple.

No.

Your father didn’t seem to care about any of that though. Day in and day out, for weeks, you watched your family leave early in the day and return late in the evening, looking more irritated than they did the previous day. It was safe to say that negotiations with the Peaky Blinders was not going as expected. The frustration and annoyance was plain as day on your father’s features, and even though nary a word was uttered to you about anything, you could feel the tension mounting in the air.

The first time you actually met someone of the infamous family, it was a Wednesday. It was a rare day within the past few weeks in which your father was at the house. He had been holed up in his study all day when there was a knock on the door. You had blinked in confusion, trying to recall if your father had mentioned anything about company, but you had only just begun to move when you heard your father’s heavy footsteps traveling down the hallway.

“Stay back.”

Normally you would have argued against him, especially with a tone as harsh as his had been, but something in his voice made you listen. There was something in his eyes, something in the way he walked that made you understand the severity of the situation. You remained in the living room, listening as your father answered the door, unfamiliar voices eventually joining his.

Two men who you’d never seen before joined him in the hallway, standing between the kitchen and living room. You had slowly put your book down, story long forgotten at the sight of the strangers, and your movement caught their attention. Both of them were wearing hats and long coats, but you could still tell that their hair was dark. The lankier of the two was a bit taller, a mustache adorning his face while the other moved a toothpick around between his lips, a faint smirk crawling onto his face at the sight of you.

“Good afternoon, sweetheart,” the taller one greeted, and you quietly returned the greeting.

Your father cleared his throat, visibly uncomfortable.

“Arthur, John...this is my daughter, Y/N. She likes to look after the house when I’m gone.”

It was the truth. After your mother’s death, the house was where you felt most comfortable, and you were more than happy to lock yourself in its walls. Especially while the rest of your family ventured out.

“Darling, this is John and Arthur Shelby. I’ve been doing some business with them, remember?”

You fought the urge to sneer at your father, keeping your gaze on the strangers in your home instead.

“Of course. It’s a pleasure to meet you,” you said with a tense smile.

Knowing you so well, your father could recognize the displeasure on your face, and if the other men before you noticed it too, they didn’t speak on it. You watched as they followed your father upstairs to his study, the younger of the two tipping his hat to you before departing. You remained there for a time before slowly exhaling, turning to make your way outside. You paid no mind to how long they stayed, spending the rest of your day away outside in your garden. Your mother always kept one, and you had done the same since she died.

That was the first of the few times you ran across Arthur and John Shelby. They were the only two that ever came by the house, greeting you with tipped hats and secretive smiles. You had grown somewhat used to their presence and faces, but not enough to be completely comfortable around them. You didn’t meet the rest of them, didn’t meet him, until weeks later.

“What?” you had breathed, staring at your father in disbelief.

You watched as he rubbed his forehead, face pinched and eyes clouded over, telling you that he disliked this as much as you did.

“You’ll come to the next meeting with us,” he repeated, and you let out a sharp breath.

So you had heard him correctly.

“...why?” you eventually asked, sounding much calmer than you actually were.

“I know you hate them, but those Shelbys do have some morals about them. Things have been rather tense lately. It seems that we just can’t come to an agreement,” he sighed out, leaning against his desk. “...and I fear that things could become...rowdy.”

He didn’t continue, but you were smart enough to guess where this was going. When the realization hit you, your heart dropped, and you stared at your father like he was a stranger. The man you knew, the man your mother had married, would’ve wanted you as far away from any business dealings as possible. Somehow, the very same man was standing before you and suggesting…

��You think my presence at the meeting will make them behave...make them think twice about doing anything...violent,” you murmured, more to yourself than him.

He didn’t respond, but he didn’t need to, and you clenched your jaw.

“...and if it doesn’t-?”

“It will,” he argued.

“...but if it doesn’t…” you repeated with more force. “...then what? What will you do if they bring out the guns and razor blades right there? What will you do if they decide to use me to make you agree to their terms?”

Your father was silent, and you stepped towards him, eyes pleading.

“What will you do then?”

You watched as he straightened, standing to his full height as he looked down his nose at you. It was like you were looking at a completely different person, someone who wasn’t like your father at all. As you eyed him, you could see the stress on his face, the strain in his muscles, the conflict in his eyes. You’d had your suspicions that your family’s business with the Peaky Blinders was more serious than you could’ve imagined, but the toll it was clearly taking on your father confirmed it.

Even if you didn’t agree with what was going on, how your father went about getting what he so clearly needed and wanted, it was obvious that this was important to him. Since the death of your mother, very few things brought your father happiness. Very few things even halfway satisfied him, and hoping that this would, shoulders sagging with defeat, you agreed.

This was how you found yourself seated beside your father at none other than The Garrison. The pub was empty of any patrons or staff, only those important to the meeting present. Thomas Shelby, the man himself, was seated across from your father. He was as intimidating as you always believed he’d be, smooth voice having done nothing to calm you when he introduced himself.

John and Arthur, the two you were familiar with, were on his right while two more men by the name of Isaiah and Finn were on his left. They were one short in comparison to your father, his two brothers, your two brothers, and yourself, but an empty chair told you that one more was on their way. Seeing that the meeting had already begun, you deduced that their tardiness wasn’t a concern. Considering the nature of the meeting, a whole bunch of words that could be summed up into “who controls what”, you envied the mystery person’s absence.

For minutes now, you had contributed nothing, but then again… That wasn’t your purpose. No, the purpose of your presence was to keep the men in line. Your entire purpose was to play on what few morals the men had, and you fought to hold in a laugh. With every member of your family being armed, you wondered if your father even believed this would work. Too busy stewing over how your father had purposely put you in harm’s way, you didn’t take notice of the pub door opening.

You were only pulled from your thoughts when the sound of footsteps finally registered. Considering that your back was to the door, you couldn’t see their face, and you didn’t want to appear nosey or unprofessional or draw attention to yourself in any way really by turning to look. You only glanced up when he finally came into your line of sight, and you observed him in the same manner that you did all the others.

Something about him reminded you of Thomas, but his features were much softer, not so harsh. However, that made him no less intimidating. He wasn’t sporting a hat, dark hair neatly pushed away from his face, and something about him was different from the rest. On his own, he didn’t look like he belonged with the rest of them, and as Thomas explained that he was their chief accountant, you got the feeling that that was purposely done. He introduced the man as Michael Gray, his cousin, and losing interest once again, you looked away.

You played with your fingers beneath the table, wanting to desperately be anywhere but here. You had a feeling that you’d get your wish very soon, taking note of the change in tone in your father’s voice. He sounded happier, relieved, and you glanced up at him, his relief contagious. As you did so, your eyes briefly connected with that of the newcomer, Michael, and you quickly looked away. Even still, you could feel the weight of his stare, and you reluctantly returned it.

He didn’t look the least bit ashamed at having been caught, bringing his cigarette up to his lips, a thick coil of smoke escaping them moments later. His face was hard to read, and you felt yourself frowning slightly. You blinked, eyes trailing to your brother on your father’s other side, but he seemed invested in the meeting. Everyone seemed to be...everyone but you and the man named Michael.

When your eyes met his again, it was just in time to watch him lean over, lips at his cousin’s ear as he whispered something to him. His gaze held yours the entire time. You glanced around again, feeling as if there was a meeting within a meeting going on, and you were the only one to notice. Brushing off the unease you felt, you sat back in your chair, eyes on the table. It was hard to ignore the heavy gaze that pinned you to your seat, but you fought to manage.

Especially since it seemed that an agreement was finally being made.

However, that sinking feeling in your chest traveled to your gut, settling there as you watched John move to whisper something to Thomas. The man, the leader of this great gang, paused for the briefest of moments. It happened so quickly, and John was back in his seat as if nothing had happened, and while Thomas’ words did not falter, the way his eyes briefly flickered to you had you straightening in your seat.

Your eyes fell onto the blue-eyed newcomer again, and he took another drag of his cigarette. Every single one of them wore smug expressions, from the first moment you’d been introduced to every individual man, you noticed that they all looked as if they owned the world. Michael Gray was no different, but the way he looked at you made you want to be as far away from here as possible. As more tendrils of smoke left his pink lips, you noted that he didn’t look at you like he just owned the world. He looked at you like he owned you too.

“Everything does seem to be in order, but...there is another matter I think we should discuss,” you heard Thomas Shelby say.

You looked to him, watching as he stood, his family following his lead and your family following theirs. You tightened your coat around you as Thomas gestured for your father to follow him into the back. His absence made you nervous, but you simply stepped closer to your brother as you watched him follow the other man.

“Let’s wait outside,” your brother said, and eager to be out of here, you hastily agreed.

Your other brother remained inside with your uncles while you followed Matthew, the middle child of you three, outside.

“You alright?” he asked you as soon as you were in the fresh air. “You looked a bit tense in there.”

You watched him light a smoke, and you glanced away.

“The other one...the cousin, Michael… How much do you know about him?”

Matthew shrugged, exhaling.

“Not much. Doesn’t say much at the meetings, mostly handles the money,” he told you.

That did little to ease you.

“Why…?”

You were just about to tell him the reason for your curiosity when the door to The Garrison came flying open. You watched in shock as your father came storming out, your other brother and uncles hot on his tail.

“What’s going on?” Matthew asked, just as alarmed as you were.

Instead of an answer, your father simply grabbed your arm, and yanked you along. You almost tripped over your feet, and you looked at your father like he’d lost his mind. His face was clouded over, eyes thunderous, and you wondered what had happened in such a short time.

“What-?”

“Quiet,” he hissed, sounding the angriest you’d ever heard him, and your eyes widened at this.

“...but-.”

“I said quiet! Get in the car,” he spat.

He didn’t give you a chance to listen, opting for shoving you inside himself. Your foot was barely inside when he slammed the door shut, and you stared at the window in shock. Matthew joined you and your father in the car while the rest piled into the other vehicle. Your confusion only grew as the car roared to life, and you glanced up then to rest your eyes on a familiar face.

He leaned against the door to the pub, a fresh cigarette held between his lips as he lit it. His blue eyes were focused entirely on you, even as the smoke clouded his view and your father began to drive off, he didn’t appear to be interested in anything else but your trembling frame.

You sat at the dining table in shock, listening to the muffled sound of your father’s angry voice that traveled from his study. He was in there with the rest of the family, and he’d been in there for hours. He had barely looked at you when you all came home, heading straight for his office as he ordered the rest of the family inside. There was an unspoken agreement that that did not include you.

Still, the uneasiness from the meeting remained. You could still feel the heated gaze of the blue-eyed man, smell the smoke that drifted from his lips, see the way he watched you as he whispered to John. You could see the way Thomas had looked at you as John whispered to him, and this was what made you press your ear to your father’s study door hours earlier. This was what drove your curiosity to discover just what happened when you and your brother left.

“He wants her,” your father had forced out, sounding like he was going to be sick.

There was a long pause, and you had frowned in confusion.

“Who?” your other brother, Nathaniel, had eventually asked.

“The Gray kid! Polly’s son,” he spat as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. “He wants her.”

You could hear your father’s heavy breaths, hear him pacing, and the confirmation that the discussion was about Michael Gray did nothing to quell your confusion. The silence that followed was loud and heavy, something unspoken in the air that you had yet to understand.

“...what?” you heard one of your uncles murmur.

Your father heaved a sigh, sounding much calmer now.

“They are...prepared to meet us more than halfway if we let him have her,” he slowly said. “Everything we’ve been working towards, everything we’ve been yearning for… It could be ours in a matter of hours if we let him have her.”

“No!”

Nathaniel’s voice could be heard before your father even finished.

“Absolutely not-.”

“Nathaniel…”

“You’re not considering this...are you? Father…”

“They’ve given us the day to think it over-.”

“What is there to think about? She’s our sister, your daughter, not some whore on the street,” Matthew interrupted, his words making you freeze.

Bile threatened to spill from your lips as you stared at the door, slowly backing away, their voices becoming less clear as you did so. Your back was pressed to the wall as the truth settled over you, and you suddenly felt foolish for failing to put it together sooner. Your stomach swirled, fear settling into your bones, and before you knew it, your head was in the commode, expelling everything you’d eaten that day. The tears had come shortly after, and that was how Matthew found you hours later, sitting at the table with tears in your eyes.

“I know you heard,” he said, sitting across from you.

You hesitantly looked up at him as he poured a glass of whiskey.

“You never could keep your nose out of things. Told you years ago to stop listening in on father’s conversations-.”

“Well, I’m glad I did this time,” you tearfully spat.

Matthew sighed, sliding the glass towards you.

“I think you deserve it tonight,” he said as you threw him an odd look.

Your shoulders sagged, and you gratefully accepted it, scrunching your face up at the strong taste that hit your tongue. The both of you sat there in silence for a while, listening to your father’s muffled voice, and you took another sip.

“What’s he going to do?”

Your fear must have been evident because his hand rested on yours on the table.

“Hey...he’s not going to agree, alright? He would never…”

You shook your head before he even finished, sniffling as you took another sip.

“I don’t know, Matthew. I don’t know,” you breathed.

Your eyes met his, and he frowned at you.

“These past few months or so… He’s been different, and you know it. He’s made deals before, but it’s different this time. Everything he’s ever wanted is so close. It’s different this time, and you know it, Matthew.”

He didn’t respond, but he didn’t have to. You both knew that it was different this time, and you shuddered to think about what tomorrow would bring.

The next day came and went, much to your relief, and although you were glad that your father didn’t give into the Peaky Blinders, into what they wanted from you...what he wanted from you, it was still an unacknowledged elephant in the room. They still left the house for business, but you didn’t know if it was with the Blinders or not. You shuddered to think of how that conversation went when your father refused their offer.

You got the feeling that they weren’t used to not getting their way.

It was three nights later, three nights since that fateful meeting in which you’d caught the eye of Michael Gray, that you left your room to get a glass of water. The house was dark and quiet, an unusual sight seeing as at least one brother was usually up late in the kitchen, drinking or having a smoke. That wasn’t the sight that greeted you.

The kitchen was empty of anyone else, and you drank your water slowly. You hoped that things would be better now. You recalled how relieved your father had looked over the past few days, how much softer his features looked, and you desperately hoped that it was because the family was finally on the right track. You made your way back into the hall, glass pressed to your lips, when you paused.

The only light in the living room came from the moon, it’s rays bleeding through the windows and onto the furniture. It wasn’t much, but it was enough to take note of the shape that didn’t belong. The shape of a man. Light flooded the room, and all of your breath left you, glass shattering at your feet.

You stared at him in shock, taking in everything from his neat hair to his shiny dark shoes. He was dressed much like he was the first day you met him, a dark grey almost black looking suit hugging his frame. He leaned back in your father’s chair, nursing a glass of Brandy, and it was then that you realized he’d been here for a while.

“Father!”

It was instinctual now, how your father was the first person you ran to. He didn’t respond, and you called for him again, cutting yourself off when a smirk slowly danced along Michael’s lips. Your mind whirled, and dread filled you.

“What are you doing in my house? Where is my father?”

A small chuckle escaped him, eyes twinkling with mirth as he slowly pulled out a cigarette.

“What do you think I’m doing here, love?”

Your entire body froze, the implication behind his words clear, and you shook your head. You called for Matthew...then Nathaniel...then your uncles and your father again. The only thing that met you was silence, and your throat felt incredibly thick all of a sudden. The weight of your predicament fully settled over you, and you slowly shook your head.

“No,” you breathed in disbelief. “...no.”

The man before you didn’t respond, simply pressing the cigarette between his lips, reaching in his pockets for a light, no doubt.

“I don’t believe you.”

That was what you said, what your lips formed, but your heart and your head didn’t agree. Something didn’t feel right from the moment you woke up, and a part of you that you desperately wished would shut up did believe him.

“Do you really think your father would allow anyone into his home without his knowledge or permission?”

You watched him pull a drag, smoke filling the air, and you stumbled back, running for the door. You didn’t hear him behind you, and for that you were relieved, but your relief was short lived. Upon swinging the door open, you were met with the sight of John and Arthur Shelby dawdling in your driveway. They appeared to be having a conversation when you opened the door, their voices abruptly cutting off at your appearance. John simply smirked at you from around the smoke in his mouth, Arthur tipping his hat towards you.

“‘Ello, sweetheart.”

With a shriek, you slammed the door shut in their faces, chest heaving with uneven breaths as the situation fully resonated with you. You stumbled back further into the hallway, and Michael was still in the same place as before, nursing a cigarette as you fought to figure out a way out of this.

“You can’t...you can’t do this,” you eventually murmured, glaring at him.

Michael simply fixed you with an even stare, smoke escaping from his nose, the cigarette dancing between his fingers.

“I’m a Peaky Blinder, love. I can do whatever I want.”

He said it with so much conviction that you knew he believed it, and the longer you stared at him, the more you believed it too. You warily glanced around, telling yourself that you might actually have to fight this man, might have to fight to protect what your father had wrongly given away. Even though part of you denied it, you slowly accepted that Michael was telling the truth. Despite the fact that your family’s business and even lives were at stake, your father had no right to trade away what didn’t belong to him.

Michael’s eyes never left you as you stood there, and you finally looked to him again when he cleared his throat. The cigarette rested between his lips as he slipped out of his jacket, and you swallowed at the dark look in his eyes. He took another drag.

“Before you do...whatever it is that you’re about to do…”

He parted his mouth, the smoke swirling in there for a bit before pressing his lips together, tendrils escaping his nose.

“You should know that I’ve shot men in the head with no hesitation. I drug my blade across a man’s throat once and reveled in the taste of his blood on my lips.”

You flinched, taking a step back.

“When Tommy first tried to scare me away, threaten to send me back to the village in which I grew up… I told him about a well there, that I’d blow it up with dynamite if he made me go back...didn’t care if my hands went with it.”

He finished his cigarette, putting the rest of it out, eyes boring into yours as he slowly exhaled the smoke he’d been holding in.

“I just knew it’d be worth it to see those pretty white bricks all over that pretty village green...and I meant every word of that.”

You didn’t respond, and his blue eyes slowly dragged over every part of you, taking you in from your hair all the way to your bare feet, lingering on the thin nightgown in between.

“It’s something about the violence, you see.”

His words unnerved you, and he continued.

“The violence, the blood...the fight...it does something to me. Gets me excited, all riled up, so please…”

He gestured towards you, eyes glinting with something that made your heart stop.

“Do fight back, hit me even… It’ll just make me want to fuck you that much harder.”

The tears finally skipped down your cheeks, and you stumbled back as he stood to his full height. With a shaky breath, you staggered up the stairs, running to the last room at the end of the hall, a guest room. You were quick to pull the window up, looking down below in worry. It was high up, that was for sure, but the alternative was worse.

Before you could even get a foot out, warm hands pressed into your stomach, pulling you back against a broad chest. A startled scream left your lips, and Michael’s hands traveled to your arms, fingers pressed into your skin as he held you tight. You leaned your head away from him as he pressed his face into your neck, breathing you in.

“Your father made a big mistake bringing you around us, eh?”

You couldn’t will your lips to move, too paralyzed with fear and nerves and anxiety for the unknown. The way he touched you was foreign, the scent that clung to him, a mix of cologne and expensive liquor and cigarettes, was foreign. The creeping sensation that blanketed your body was foreign. All of this was foreign, and more tears pooled within your eyes as the inevitable drew closer.

“He thought you’d keep us in line, keep us on leashes...but ever since I saw you, the only thing I wanted to do was take you like a fucking animal.”

You jerked in his hold, fighting to get away from him, but Michael tsk’d.

“Let’s not spoil this, hmm? You seem like a good girl...if you catch my drift.”

More tears fell at his words, and he hummed.

“You do. You strike me as a well behaved lady of the house...and you girls like for this to be special, yeah? All gentle and loving,” he slowly mocked as he forced you towards the bed.

He shoved you onto it, knees pressing down on either side of you soon after, preventing you from going anywhere. Your tears soaked the sheet, and Michael’s fingers ghosted over your skin, leaving goosebumps in their wake.

“I want you to look at me as I fuck you.”

He gently turned you over onto your back, and you stared up at the man before you. Even in the darkness, you could see the blue of his eyes perfectly. They were bright and filled with a hunger that scared you, a hunger you had never been on the receiving end of before. Michael leaned over you, caging you beneath him as he pressed his forehead to yours, soon followed by his lips.

You’d kissed men before, but they were soft sweet nothings that could barely be called a kiss. You knew that if you wanted to marry well, contribute something of substance to your family, you had to be smart about your actions...your reputation. All of the men, realizing that you weren’t going to give them what they wanted, left. Accepting that your family and reputation came first, they always left, and it hurt every single time.

But it will be worth it.

That’s what you constantly told yourself. After every heartbreak, every sneer, every harsh insult thrown your way about what a frigid bitch you were, you told yourself that it would be worth it. And yet...here you were...beneath a gangster, having your reputation ripped away from you by a man who stole and murdered and wasn’t decent in any way.

Life was funny.

After slipping out of his shirt, the flimsy material floating somewhere behind him, Michael guided your hands to his chest. Your trembling fingers danced along his taut skin, taking note of an imperfection. An old bullet wound, you deduced. The dark-haired man groaned into your mouth, pressing into you, and you could feel him hard beneath his trousers. The reality of what was about to happen seemed to slink around your neck like a noose, and you didn’t even realize that you’d started panting until Michael’s hand found your neck.

“I-I can’t- I can’t do this-.”

He shushed you, kissing you again.

“Behave...and I’ll be good to you. Breathe,” he urged.

You slowly did as he suggested, squeezing your eyes shut as his other hand pushed the smooth material of your nightgown up your legs. One hand was still on your throat as that same hand traveled to his pants, the sound of his zipper deafening in the quiet room. Your whole body went numb for a moment, ears ringing and vision blurring, and when you finally came back to earth, Michael’s hips were pressing against yours, nothing in between you.

He was speaking to you, you noted.

“...what?” you murmured.

“What’s your name, love?”

You swallowed, quickly darting your tongue out to swipe over your lips.

“Y/N.”

He repeated it, clearly liking the taste of it on his tongue. He nodded at you, drinking you in as he ran his eyes over your face, seemingly committing you to memory before sliding into you with one quick thrust. Your nails pressed into his skin, and he hissed, your own lips parting to let out a pained gasp. Michael held himself above you, a low groan escaping him as his forehead touched yours again.

“You feel fucking amazing,” he whispered, nose bumping against yours.

He held himself there for a long time, just feeling you. You weren’t naïve enough to think he did it for your sake, and you got the feeling that he wanted to drag this out for as long as possible. When he did finally move, your chest arched upwards, unable to handle the unfamiliar feeling. His hand was still on your neck, and you wrapped your hand around his wrist.

The feel of him inside of you was strange. You couldn’t describe it, but you felt full...you felt stretched...and in a way, it felt unnatural, but the heat that festered deep within your stomach said otherwise. One of Michael’s hands was pressed into the bed beside your head, holding himself up so that he could look at you. You remembered his words, and too terrified to disobey, you fought to keep your eyes on him.

His face was strained with concentration, eyes flickering between your face and down to where the two of you connected. The hand that was on your neck slid down to your chest, thumb brushing over a heaving breast before resting on your stomach, pinning you down as he snapped his hips into yours. It was too much for you, too much at once, and your lashes fluttered.

“Look at me,” he roughly breathed.

“I can’t...I can’t,” you panted, head twisting from side to side.

You could hardly focus on anything other than the way he was thrusting into you, taking you to heights you never knew existed. He called your name then, and you reluctantly met his eyes, the hunger in them making you shudder.

“That’s right. Eyes on me, love. Keep your eyes on me while I fuck you,” he murmured.

The smugness in his voice and face made you frown, a spark of anger in you.

“Do you fuck all of your girls like this? Huh?”

He didn’t respond, pink lips simply curving upwards into a humorous smirk.

“...or am I special because you get to ruin my life and go on with yours?” you shakily spat.

Michael slammed into you then, forcing a choked gasp from you.

“Don’t you worry your pretty little head about that. You just focus on milking my cock, hmm?”

You wanted to hit him, spit at him, do anything other than lay there and take his unrelenting thrusts, but your body seized before you could do any of that. Your toes curled and your stomach clenched and your body shook as stars exploded behind your eyes. You hadn’t even realized what a moaning mess you had become until Michael paused just to listen to you, just taking you in with something akin to awe on his face.

You didn't have time to catch your breath before he was chasing his own high, hands pressed into your waist so hard you were sure you’d bruise. Your nails dug into his wrists, choked moans tumbling from your mouth as you clenched around him again, just in time for him to spill into you, releasing a long breath as he did so. You clung to him, tears catching in your lashes as you laid there, mind whirling at what you’d just done.

You flinched, shrinking in on yourself when his lips brushed the corner of your mouth just before pulling out of you. You winced at the action, staring up at the ceiling as you heard him moving about. You turned your head when you heard the strike of a match and watched as he lit himself another cigarette, pants just barely settling on his waist.

“So what happens now?” you finally asked, voice low in the dark room.

Would your father and brothers come through that door tomorrow, pretending that they hadn’t sold you out? Would they be able to even look at you? Stomach the sight of you? Fresh tears kissed your eyes just as Michael spoke.

“Well…”

He took a pull, exhaling the smoke through his nose as he neared you.

“...I’m going to fuck you at least three more times before the night is over.”

You sat up at this, paying no mind to the pain in between your legs as you stared at him with wide eyes. Without realizing it, you gripped the end of your nightgown, pulling it to your knees as if somehow trying to prevent that very thing from happening.

“What-?”

“...and then I want you to pack a bag. Just some things that’ll last you a few days. I’ll be buying you a whole new lot of clothes anyway.”

“Michael-.”

“You’re my girl, now,” he quietly said, voice firm as he stood over you, free hand playing with the strap of your gown as the other held his cigarette to his lips.

You shook your head, staring up at him in disbelief.

“I...no. My family...they-.”

“Sold you away without a second thought.”

Your heart clenched as he threw that in your face, and you turned away as he reached for you. His fingers pinched your chin, jerking you to face him, and you swallowed. He bent down, staring into your eyes.

“You won’t have to worry about that with us...with me.”

He took one more pull of his cigarette before placing it on the nightstand, tendrils of smoke escaping his nose and mouth just before he pressed his lips to yours, fingers pressing into your skin as he settled between your legs.

tags: @cocoamoonmalfoy @trinittyy @ziamslarry-blog @a531a @s-u-t @sunshinechim-98 @callmechannel @lil-hungryy @oneoftheprettynerds @scissorkidscult @madamerubrum

#peaky blinders #michael gray #michael gray x reader #michael gray x you #michael shelby #thomas shelby #john shelby #arthur shelby #finn shelby #isaiah jesus #dark fic #dark michael gray #polly gray #michael gray smut #michael gray imagine #yandere

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peakyblindersxx · 3 years

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mrs. shelby - john shelby x reader

a/n: hey loves! hope you're all doing well, i just had to write this john fluff cause i fucking adore him. this is my first fluffy fic, so lmk if you guys like it and want more :) i have a tommy smut & fluff, both requested, that i'm working on next. hope you enjoy!!

love, abi xxx

prompt: john x wife!reader, you feel neglected by john & he tries to make it up to you.

warnings: fluff, mentions of smut (i would say PG-13)

It was 10 pm, and you were already drunk. The kids were in bed, and there you sat in front of the fireplace laying on the settee, clad in nothing but a light pink slip, half-empty bottle of gin dangling from your right hand. You took another swig, dried tears sticky on your face. John was working late again, and you couldn’t stand being sober in this huge house, alone. He was probably fucking some whore in his office, you thought to yourself bitterly. The thought wasn’t rational, but the alcohol in your blood allowed it to make itself home in your mind, jealousy flooding your veins. You’d barely seen him in the past month, as he was so busy with whatever Tommy had ordered him around to do that he often arrived home in the early morning and left just hours, leaving you to care for the kids alone. At first, you were desperate for his attention, anything to even give the semblance of love towards you. Now, you were just angry. Angry at Tommy for keeping him away from you, angry at John for abandoning you. You drank straight from the bottle now, in an attempt to soothe the sharp edges of your anger.

The car headlights flashed through the windows behind you as John’s car pulled up, earlier than he usually did. You hadn’t expected him to be here, to see you in this state. Fuck. You stood, your bare feet pressing into the carpet as you glanced in the mirror hanging on the wall adjacent, fixing your smudged mascara before flopping back into the settee, the gin making your head spin slightly as you moved. You heard John open the door as he walked into the room, wearing a dark blue three piece suit, stopping when he saw you. You hated the fact that as much as you were upset, you still wanted him to pull you into his arms, smelling of cigars and whiskey.

“You drunk?” John questioned, blue eyes trained on you as you stared into the crackling fire.

“Fuck do you care.” Your slurred response caught John off guard, and he furrowed his eyebrows, sinking down on the crushed velvet next to you.

“Y’shouldn’t be drinking so much, s’not good for you,” he replied.

“Like you’re one to talk,” You shot back, taking another sip from the bottle and setting it down on the side table next to you, causing him to sigh.

“This what you wanna do? Fuckin’ fight?” John stood again, running a hand through his hair and discarding his jacket on the arm of the chair, crossing his arms, the chains around his biceps glinting in the firelight. Despite your anger, you couldn’t help but admire the way the light reflected off of his jawline just right.

“How else am I supposed to get your attention lately?” You snapped, standing and swaying slightly as he turned to face you, blue eyes meeting yours. “Barely even touched me in a month. You’re never here. For all I know, you’re out fucking half the damn country but I can’t do shit ‘bout it. More like a damn nanny than a wife.”

John bristled at your accusation, his gaze boring into yours. “Right, I’ll admit that I’ve been fuckin’ busy lately, n’ I’m sorry for that. But I sure as fucking ‘ell haven’t touched anyone else.” His voice softened as he closed the gap between the two of you.

“I’m sorry, angel,” John mumbled, his lips brushing against your jaw. “I’ve been neglecting you, Mrs. Shelby, I know.” The sound of his name on yours dissipated the anger brewing inside of you as he pressed soft kisses to your neck, relaxing some of the tension in your shoulders.

“Feels like you don’t want me,” you murmured, as John grunted against your skin.

“Christ, darlin’, I want you more than anythin’. Just been so fucking busy, m’so sorry, sweetheart,” he replied, brushing a strand of hair out of your face as you looked up at him.

“You’re lucky you’re so fuckin’ charming,” you replied, rolling your eyes as John cracked a soft smile.

“Let me make it up to you,” he cajoled. “Tommy let me take some time off, just for me and you, aye?” You couldn’t help but melt into his arms, the alcohol causing you to lean on him more than usual. John carried your weight with ease, just like he did everything, and you were suddenly grateful he’d come home early.

“Don’t want you to leave in the morning,” you slurred slightly, drinking in the smell of his cologne, as John sat back on the settee, you in his lap facing him, legs on either side. “M’not,” he grunted in reply. His cock was hard at the proximity of you, yet he didn’t feel the need to fuck. Just having you pressed against him was enough. “Gonna stay here and take care of my girl, yeah? You’re going to need it after all that fuckin’ gin.”

“You remember our wedding?” You mused, fingers toying with the buttons on his vest.

John chuckled. “‘Course I do. Fuckin’ Arthur gettin’ drunk and makin’ that speech of his.”

The two of you laughed, remembering the way Arthur had stumbled up to the head of the table and proclaimed his vehement excitement for the consummation of your wedding. “S’time John got some real pussy, none of that shit ya pay for, ya know,” Arthur had bellowed.

“And how could I forget seein’ your pretty face for the first time. Was scared as all hell, Tommy didn’t even tell me ‘bout it ‘til the day of. Fuckin’ lucked out, knew that soon as I saw ya,” John grinned at you, his blue-grey eyes flickering to your lips.

“Was so nervous, me hands was shaking the whole time,” you confessed, his hands spanning your waist as he held you, pressing a kiss to your neck. “Didn’t know if you’d like how I looked.”

“Fuckin’ christ, are you kidding?” John laughed disbelievingly, eyes sparkling as he gazed at you. “Y’looked like a goddamn angel. Whole damn room was jealous of me, that’s how beautiful you were. Had to hurry up n’ make you mine, ‘fore anyone else got any ideas.” You let a smile float across your face as he planted kisses across your collarbone, his calloused hands rough against your bare back.

“Won’t ever forget the first time I carried you into that bedroom upstairs, either,” John murmured, causing your cunt to pulse at the memory as John pushed himself up against you, undulating your hips against him slightly. “Most beautiful thing I’d seen in my life, you all spread out and beggin’ for me. Knew soon as I pushed my cock into ya, that pretty little pussy was made for me,” he crooned.

John’s touch was burning into your skin as you couldn’t help but press your lips onto his messily, craving the way his mouth fit with yours. He nipped at your bottom lip for access, and you let him in, any semblance of insecurity crumbling away with John’s touch.

“Take me upstairs, Mr. Shelby,” you breathed, as John’s teeth scraped against your neck, breath hot against your skin. The mark was probably going to bruise later, but you didn’t care.

“Gladly, Mrs. Shelby,” John grinned as he stood and picked you up with him, sloppily making his way up the stairs, occasionally pressing you against the wall to meet his mouth with yours. “Let’s make another little one, eh?”

#john shelby x reader #john shelby imagine #john shelby fluff #peaky blinders imagine #peaky blinders x reader #peaky fooking blinders #john shelby

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moonofthenight · 3 years

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Covered in Rainbow

Happy Pride Month to all the lovely people out there, this is a safe space for all of you and this is our month to celebrate who we are!

Credits for O’Knutzy goes to @lumosinlove

CW conversation of not being out

Leo woke up to a missing Logan and a sleepy Finn pressed to his side. The blonde glanced at the clock, 7:30am, they still had a few hours until they needed to be at the rink.

It wasn’t Leo’s first pride game he will see but it will be the first he will actually play in and he was nervous. He didn’t exactly know why, it’s not like he will come out to the public or announce his relationship today, there wasn’t enough confidence there yet, but still, it felt special.

“Mhh where’s Lo?”, mumbled Finn, face pressed into the pillows.

Just as Leo was about to answer, the door opened and Logan padded into their bedroom, a package in his hand. His hair was everywhere and the left side of his face was still a bit red from the good night of sleep. It made Leo chuckle.

“Who the fuck decided that the mailman should work this early today? I don’t approve,” Logan grumbled as he crawled back between Finn and Leo, who wrapped his arm around Logan’s shoulder almost immidiatly while Finn cuddled back into the side of his brown-haired boyfriend.

“Let’s see what this is,” Leo said, ripping the package open with Logan’s help.

He pulled out three new jerseys, their numbers on the back in rainbow colours. The ones they would wear today are identical but probably already in the locker room. Normally, they don’t get another pair send to them but they specifically asked Arthur for three extras, just for them to keep and to remember.

Leo didn’t realise that he had just stared at his for a while now until a warm hand on his leg snapped him out of his thoughts.

“Hey, you okay sweetheart?”

“What? Oh, yeah, yeah. I’m just a bit nervous, I guess and maybe a bit sad that we can’t really, you know, be out and celebrate like Cap and Loops can.”

“We still can. We know, the team knows, our families know and one day everyone else will too but until then, we can enjoy the privacy while we show full support for Cap and Remus,” Finn said, now definitely a bit more awake.

---

They arrived at the rink a few hours later. They expected a bit of decoration, yes, but what they were welcomed with wasn’t just a little bit. Different pride flags hung on every wall, Lion’s stickers with the pride colours layed on the tables in the entrance hall for the fans to take and to Leo’s surprise, Nat was sitting at another table in the foyer, several brushes and paint in front of her.

“Nat? What are you doing here?”, said Leo while he walked towards her, pulling her into a hug, Logan and Finn giving her a quick wave, already half way around the corner.

“I will paint a few faces today. Kase told me about the idea and I said I would to it. You wanna be my first?”

Leo looked at her, then at the paint and back at her. Maybe…

“Could you- can you put pride flags on my cheeks?”

She gave him a soft smile, “Of course I can, sit down.”

She prepared the colours and grabbed Leo’s chin to keep him in place.

“So, how is life?”

“Good, good,” Natalie answered, waiting patiently for Leo to spill his thoughts while she countinued to paint his face.

“I feel like I’m letting them down.”

There it is.

“They deserve what Sirius and Remus have and I can’t give that to them yet. It’s pride month, we should be able to go on the streets to celebrate ourselves, for fucks sake, this is just so unfair.”

Leo exhaled sharply, looking directly into Nat’s eyes. She let go of his face, set down the brush, giving him her full attention.

“You are not letting them down Leo, not ever. I don’t think they care, they love you and that is enough for them. Of course it’s unfair and you are right, you should be able to be out. But you can’t, I can’t, Kase and Alex can’t and we hate it as much as you do. But we will one day. Now, love, let me finish my work of art.”

That made Leo smile again and his heart a bit lighter. This is what he liked about Natalie so much, he always was so reasonable and reminded him that they weren’t alone.

A few minutes in silence passed before Nat ruffled his hair, “All done.”

“Thank you, really.”

“You’re welcome. Now go and kiss your boys.”

“Will do,” said Leo with a smile, making his way over towards the locker room.

He was greeted with loud chatter and laughter.

“Knutty! Nice face paint!”

“Your girlfriend is an artist, Bliz!”

Leo threw his bag into his stall, searching for his two lovers.

“You look gorgeous,” a voice said behind him, two strong arms wrapped around his waist.

He leaned into Finn’s warmth.

“I wasn’t sure if I should do it. Where’s Lo?”

“I’m here, sorry, Olli wanted to show me something. Oh, nice face paint you got there, sweetheart.”

Logan wrapped his arms around Leo too, over Finn’s, pressing a soft kiss to his lips.

“I love you.”

“I love you too.”

“I love you three, now give me a kiss too,” Finn said, moving, so he could grab Leo’s face properly. The kiss was so incredibly soft and filled with love, it made Leo’s knees go weak.

They parted and Finn gave Logan a kiss too, Leo still being a bit out of it.

“Harzy, I have some rainbow tape for you,” said Remus suddenly, from the other side of the room.

The three of them looked over and couldn’t hold back a smile. Sirius’ head was hidden in the crock of Remus’ neck, his arms around his waist, the legs thrown over his lap.

“It’s in the bag in front of you. I can’t really move right now,” Remus smiled, pressing a kiss on the black hair.

Most of the team already taped their sticks with it so the three of them made quick work out of it and soon enough their sticks had rainbow tape on them too.

Leo suddenly felt a big wave of appreciation as he changed. He couldn’t wish for a better team, a better family. He didn’t know what he would do without them, he didn’t even want to imagine what would be if they weren’t so supportive…

“Peanut, let’s go.”

Leo’s head snapped up as Logan grabbed his hand, pulling him forward, kissing it before letting go again.

Leo’s steps faltered when he got closer to the rink; he was blown away.

The stadium was covered in pride flags, covered.

He took off his goalie mask, letting his gaze wander over the stands. This was insane.

There were a lot of younger fans, he noticed. Most of them looked like something between 16 and 19 but he couldn’t say for sure. He tried to read a few signs, squinting his eyes together.

Thank you for encouraging me

Love is Love

Best Captain Ever

He was in complete awe; This was better than he could have ever imagined it; He was standing on the ice, he was able to see it.

The Penguins on the other side of the rink smiled at them, occasionally stopping to chat with them and he noticed the same tape as his on their sticks. He smiled, brightly.

Leo touched his bracelet; one day. They didn’t know know but they know he supports it and that's enough. For now.

#pride month #pride game #o'knutzy #fluff #lumosinlove #sweater weather lumosinlove #rating: t

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lumosinlove · 3 years

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Day Four: 12/17/20

On the fourth day of Ficmas, Hazel gave to thee, Sweater Weather behind the scenes!

Sweater Weather Outtakes. Sometimes I changed it because I feel like the pacing was off, which is the case in the first big chunk, and sometimes I changed it because I just wanted the plot to be different. I wrote a lot of the end of Sweater Weather in the very beginning before most of the fic was even written, just musing to myself about my boys winning the Cup. Enjoy!

TW: Mentions of being outed.

(This takes place right after they were outed.)

Sirius was doing something wrong, and that was not calling Remus for two days.

Sirius stood. “So, we’re settled.”

Alice nodded. “We have our plan. Now, as Arthur says, we just have to wait for a few punches. Good thing you’re familiar with those.”

Arthur stood, too, and slapped Sirius on the back. “I’m proud of you, kid. You’ve let no one own you, and that’s hard for someone in your position. You’ve come a long way. See you on TV, eh?”

Sirius glanced at Remus, who was talking to Alice as they walked out of Coach’s office and into the hallway. “It hasn’t been without help. Merci, Coach. For everything.”

Sirius ducked out into the hallway, half expecting to find Remus gone, disappeared, to find all of this not real. He felt like he was floating above everything, dreading the comments that he knew to expect from others, kicking himself for running, fighting to be brave about it all.

Sirius had a lot of people making decisions for him.

This one was for him to make.

There Remus was, back turned, watching Alice disappear back into her office.

Sirius’ heart pounded as he reached out and lay a gentle hand on Remus’ back. He felt like he was going to collapse with it, with wanting to be alone with him, to say he was sorry, to say how thankful he was to have him. Remus turned and looked at him, face soft. He looked as tired as Sirius felt.

“Come with me?” Sirius asked.

Remus nodded hurriedly and Sirius followed Remus towards the quiet room, where they seemed to be just making memory after memory. Remus shut the door and stayed against it for a moment, hands on the smooth wood.

Sirius took a few quick, nervous breaths. Looking at Remus, he was done trying to protect the both of them by pushing him away. He hurt without Remus and, by the set of Remus’ shoulders, he felt the same.

“Remus,” Sirius stepped forward, and Remus turned.

“I don’t care if I get fired,” Remus said suddenly, all in one breath, back against the door. “I want you. I care about you. Sirius, do whatever you need to, just talk to me about it so I can do what I need to—”

Sirius strode forward and took Remus’ face in his hands. Remus sank into his touch, like it pulled the tension coiled in his muscles. Like it was all he needed.

“I’m scared of a lot of things right now,” Sirius whispered, thumbs stroking across Remus’ cheeks. “But I’m the most scared of losing you.”

Remus’ lip shook, and he brought his hands up to hold Sirius’. “You are?”

Sirius hated that Remus even questioned it. He couldn’t seem to get close enough, pressing them together, feeling Remus’ warmth through his t-shirt.

“Remember what you said? What you said about people who told me I wasn’t good enough?”

Remus’ hands tightened around his wrists, eyes filling. He nodded. “I’d make you forget.”

“I haven’t forgotten,” Sirius said softly. “But I didn’t need you to make me forget.” He stroked his thumbs through the slow tears that blinked down Remus’ cheeks. “I needed you, so I could see that they were wrong.”

Remus let out a tear filled breath, curving a hand around the back of Sirius’ neck.

“Re,” Sirius whispered, brushing their noses together. “I see now.”

Remus let out a laugh, half sob. “C’est l’heure?” He twisted his wrist, making his watch flash in the dim light. It’s time? he had asked.

Sirius smiled, tears in his throat, relief in his chest. “Oui, mon vœu.”

Remus pressed up onto his toes and kissed Sirius hard, breath hitching. Sirius let Remus clutch him close, craving the feeling of him after what felt like so long. He wrapped him up, his strong shoulders and slim waist, and buried his nose in his hair, breathing in.

They stayed like that, kissing and close in the semi-darkness. It didn’t matter if anyone walked in, Sirius suddenly realized with a thrill. It didn’t matter at all. He could hold Remus like this in the middle of the street if he wanted. His mother’s face flashed in his mind. The image of a burning jersey, his burning jersey. A chill crept in, but he pushed it back, holding Remus’ warmth closer. He was leaving tonight. He needed all the warmth he could get. It was as if Remus remembered, too, because then he was pulling back and pressing kiss after kiss to Sirius’ mouth, to his cheeks and jaw.

“I’ll miss you,” Sirius whispered. “I wish you were coming with me.”

Remus tucked his face into Sirius’ neck, hands locked around Sirius’ waist, resting at the base of his spine. “Me too.”

“My mother will be there,” Sirius’ voice shook despite himself. “Because my brother.”

“Maybe…” Remus pulled back just enough to look at Sirius. “Maybe it will help to see her. To talk to her. Maybe it will show you that she really has no say in your life. Not anymore.”

Sirius nodded. “I think, maybe, but I also…When I see her, I can’t help it, I get all…”

“Aw, baby,” Remus sighed and pressed his cheek to Sirius’ chest.

“What about you, your family? Have you talked to them?”

Remus made a guilty noise. “I texted them…I don’t know why, I just—I wanted to sort things out with you first. I couldn’t think about anything but you.”

“Remus,” Sirius sighed. “Merde, you’re so…this happened to you, too. How are you, mon loup?”

“Worried about you,” Remus laughed and then pressed his forehead to Sirius’ chest before looking up at him. “I’m…I’m actually okay. This isn’t how I wanted to tell my family but, when I talk to them…I get to talk about you, too.”

Sirius stared at him, smile slow. “Jules.”

Remus laughed again. “Oh my fucking god. I think he’s going to pass out.” He groaned. “God, I hope he didn’t see those pictures, though. That’s…I don’t know. I wish we could have surprised him, or told him together.”

“Maybe he doesn’t know yet,” Sirius offered. “Maybe we can.”

“Maybe,” Remus said, then reached up and wrapped his arms around Sirius’ neck, pulling him in for a kiss. “I’ll call them tonight.”

“Text me so I can call you when I get to the hotel?” Sirius asked hopefully, and Remus nodded.

“You better.”

“You wanna come over and help me pack?”

Remus raised an eyebrow. “You sure you’re gonna get any packing done with me there?”

Sirius shrugged, ducking to brush their mouths together. “Maybe a little.”

Remus kissed him, and they pressed together for a few minutes, mouths hot. Remus laughed breathlessly as Sirius leaned against him, their kisses turning deeper.

“This sounds crazy, given everything,” Sirius said, dragging his mouth across Remus’ jaw. “But I feel—I’m relieved. Are you?”

“Yes,” Remus whispered, tilting his head back so Sirius could kiss more of his neck. “I can have you.”

“You could always have me.”

“Yeah,” Sirius could hear the smile in Remus’ voice. “But now I can have you wherever I want.”

Sirius grinned, biting gently on Remus’ jaw. “I’ll take you back to Sid’s and you can wipe food off my face all you want, cameras be damned.”

Remus laughed out loud. “My dream.”

“Should we get out of this dark room?” Sirius said softly after another lingering kiss.

Remus smiled and nodded.

Here’s a really early piece of dialogue I wrote where the team finds out about Sirius and Remus on the ice after they win the Cup:

“Holy shit,” Finn said tearfully. “You and the fucking Captain. I didn’t even know who I was talking to, did I?”

“No,” Remus laughed, and Finn kissed him right on the cheek.

“Jesus Christ, Loops, we’re in love and we have a Cup.”

“We really do. Proud of you, Harzy. All of you.”

“I love you.”

It came out of nowhere, slammed into Remus like a check to the boards, like a gust of pure, clean win across a frozen pond. He was blissful and awake with it.

“I love you,” Sirius said again, whispered against his skin. “I love you, Remus, je t’aime, je t’aime, je t’aime, mon loup, Remus…”

Sirius was gasping with it, as if the words were air themselves.

Remus clutched him, hands fisting his jersey. “I love you. God, of course, of course I love you, too.”

And here’s me almost giving Pascal a career ending injury during the playoffs, which Sirius and Remus overhear the Cubs comforting Logan about. Just incase the discord wants some angsty roads to go down :)

“Oh, sweetheart,” Leo’s voice came gently, followed by a low sob, probably from Logan.

Remus and Sirius looked at each other. Sweetheart Sirius mouthed, and Remus shook his head.

“I’m fine,” Logan said, voice thick. “I’ll be fine, let’s go, we need to play.”

“You’re not fine,” came a third voice, Finn’s, Remus realized. “And you don’t need to be. Lo, c’mere, please let us be here for you. C’mere.”

There was the unmistakable sound of a short kiss, and with that, Remus grabbed Sirius’ arm and pulled back back down the hallway as fast as he could. They ended up in Remus’ office, staring at each other.

“I…” Sirius began. “Okay, I don’t know what we just heard, but…”

“He’s being comforted by his—friends,” Remus said. “That’s all we know because…”

“They haven’t said anything yet.”

#12 days of ficmas 2020 lumosinlove #sweater weather lumosinlove #lumosinlove #wolfstar #coops #o'knutzy

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comfortwriting · 3 years

Text

A Summer Secret Part 3 - F.W

Masterlist, Requesting Rules, Writing Prompt Masterlist

Fred Weasley x Fem Reader

This is Part 3 of my mini-series; please read Parts 1 and 2. Want to be tagged? Let me know!

Warnings: 18+, light smut, swearing,

"This is just a summer fling, nothing more"

"This doesn't mean a thing, and when all this is over, we must never speak of this again."

Despite your agreement with Fred, the two of you continued to give each other everything you had: holding hands, kissing, cuddling, having sex, showering together - everything.

You told yourself that casual sex and no strings attached was actually better for you, but in reality, deep down you knew you were wrong and you kept catching yourself playing house and thinking that you and Fred were in a healthy, loving relationship.

Fred sat on the large leather sofa holding a notebook and pen in his hands, he began to write what looked like a letter.

"Who are you writing to?" you mumbled, mouth full of cereal, jumping on the sofa and leaning into him.

Fred smirked at you, wiping the crumbs from the corner of your lips. "George, I'm asking him if you can come over to surprise the twins."

'Oh yeah, George doesn't know I'm here, I haven't texted Fabian or Gideon since I left home either.'

"Good idea," you yawned staring at the letters forming on the page "Why don't you use parchment and a quill? Since when did you old wizards use pens and lined paper?"

Fred's eyebrow cocked up, he stopped writing and looked at you "Old wizards?"

You rolled your eyes "I don't mean old as an insult, Fred. You know I think you're handsome, you'd make an attractive silver fox."

Fred rolled his eyes back at you, smirking, picking up the pen and continuing to write before summoning George's owl to send off the letter.

George thought the idea of you surprising his boys wonderful, especially as you would need to accompany the family to Molly's family dinner to celebrate her and Arthurs wedding anniversary. Unfortunately for you and Fred, George didn't quite understand the different time zones between him and Fred - which meant leaving your summer secret out in the open.

Sitting across from Fred at the dinner table, enjoying your final meal alone together in the house, your foot brushed up and down his leg, opening them for you to rest your feet against his sex through his trousers.

Fred pushed his chair back, his eyes undressing you, he swallowed hard and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand.

"Ready when you are," he said lowly.

The two of you got out of your seats and left the kitchen, your hand instantly knitting together with Fred's as he leads you to the guest bedroom.

Fred's lips attack yours, his hands already fumbling with the buttons on your cardigan, not in any time to take things slow or passionate - you had to admit, that did hurt a little the more you lingered on it - but you were thankful enough that you still got to sleep with him regardless of the meaning behind it.

This time, instead of letting Fred do all the work, you searched deep inside for your confidence and once finding it - you grabbed onto it and refused to let it go. Taking charge of Fred, you focused not only on pleasuring him but yourself.

Bucking your hips and moving them around in a circular motion made you feel incredible, you had Fred - his cock - right where you wanted and needed it, and this time you would actually be able to cum.

Fred's eye bounced around your body - he didn't know which part of you to focus on: your hips, your waist, your eyes that would either roll back or scrunch shut in pleasure, your lips pink, puffy, and wet from all kissing, or your breasts which bounced and you played with when you didn't need to hold onto him for balance.

You and your secret were left panting, drenched in sweat, and drained of energy, but you knew that any moment now would be your cue to get yourself together and clear off to your own room to sleep alone.

Sitting up, you bent down to pick up your clothes when Fred's hand reached out and gently held onto your wrist.

"Don't go," he said, his voice gruff and groggy "sleep here with me tonight, they'll be back by late morning."

Don't. Remind him that this is nothing more than sex. Don't get in too deep-

You dropped your cardigan and thong back onto the smooth burgundy carpet, ignoring your heads pleas and listening to your heart instead.

Climbing into bed with Fred, he pulled you into his warm, strong arms, making you feel safe and protected - something you have never felt before.

"Goodnight, sweetheart," he said, falling asleep, pecking a small kiss on your head.

"Goodnight, Freddie," you replied, closing your eyes, engulfing in his warmth.

"It's okay if you want to date him." Fabian teased, copying Gideon's homework.

Your cheeks started to burn, you shook your head and focused on the questions staring up at you from the parchment "drop it, boys," you huffed "I don't fancy your bloody uncle!"

"Oh, don't fret and lie about it, Y/N." Gideon smirked, "You'd only become our auntie."

By early morning, a very tired and travel sick Angelina apparated into the front room, carrying her heavy bags in one hand whilst George appeared next to her, taking the heavier bag from her strained hand.

"Get to bed and have a nap, love." He said quietly, kissing her on the cheek.

Angelina smiled "Sure thing" and stroked the spot where George kissed her and walked upstairs, yawning.

Gideon and Fabian apparated next to their father, both of them desperate to know what the surprise is already.

"Come on dad," Gideon huffed "Just tell us already! Is it a job offer?"

"Yeah, stop messing, it's cruel." Fabian butted in.

George smirked and sighed, giving in to his impatient sons "No it's not a job offer, but go upstairs and find out - but keep quiet, let your mother get some rest."

From the sounds of things, it was like Gideon and Fabian were still kids, always energetic, always happy, excitable, carefree.

George, Gideon, and Fabian mounted the stairs, searching room after room for you and Fred. George felt a strange feeling in his stomach, one he wanted to push away and deny when you and Fred weren't in your own designated rooms - until they had one last door to open.

George turned the doorknob and slowly pushed open the door, the sight of you and Fred naked, fast asleep, in each other's arms told him his sudden suspicions were true.

Your secret was no more.

taglist: @alwaysnforeverfangirl @reeophidian @horrorxweasley @amourtentiaa @inglourious-imagines @sebby-staan @lucymfer @xmalfoyweasleyx @onlyfreds @freddiemylovelg @opalsheart @lina1945 @manuosorioh @avatarkanemi @nimueh-lacus @supermassiveblackhope @youralternantpersonality @rebeccaitsnotwhatyouthink @holyheadharpies99 @whatsup-200 @amwitherspoon @lovegoodsgf @becks7401

#harry potter #harry potter fanfiction #harry potter fanfic #fred weasley #fred weasley fanfiction #fred weasley imagine #fred weasley x reader #george weasley #george wealsey imagine #george wealsey x reader

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fruitcoops · 3 years

Note

Hello! I truly love your writing! Would you consider a continuation of that piece where Jules stays with coops for a week? Or just some snippets of what they get up to?

Here’s part 1, folks! It’s about 3k words and I’m thinking there will be three or four parts total, released over the next couple days. I hope you enjoy it!

Sweater Weather and Jules credit belongs to @lumosinlove!

“Jules.” A series of gentle knocks echoed down the stairs and Sirius smiled into his coffee cup. “Jules, it’s time to wake up.”

Regulus snorted. “Bet you five bucks he has to drag the kid down.”

“Deal.”

“Jules.” Remus knocked again, sounding more exasperated. There was a heavy sigh and the door clicked open; after a moment of quiet, someone yelped. “Good morning, sunshine.”

“Go away!” Jules groaned. “An’ give it back!”

“It’s time for breakfast, get a wiggle on. I’ll carry you if I have to.”

“I’m cold.” More rustling noises followed before Jules appeared at the top of the staircase, bundled in Remus’ sweatshirt—which was really Sirius’, but it didn’t matter—and scowling. His bedhead was outstanding.

“Bon matin,” Sirius said with a smile when Jules sat heavily in the chair next to him and put his forehead on his arms. “How’d you sleep?”

“I don’t like your fiancé.”

“Oh?”

“He’s mean.”

Sirius winked at Remus as he rolled his eyes and pulled a cereal box out of the pantry. “What did he do?”

“He stole my blankets with no warning.”

“That is such a lie,” Remus scoffed. “I knocked on your door for five whole minutes before I came in!”

“Thank you for that, by the way,” Sirius said, walking over to give him a kiss on the cheek. “Reg owes me five bucks now.”

“Sweet, we can get more Oreos.”

“Oreos aren’t on your diet plan,” Jules sulked as Remus passed him a bowl of cereal and milk.

“How do you know?”

Jules mumbled something and shoved his spoon into his mouth. The night before had been hectic, with Sirius driving the Hope and Lyall to the airport while Remus helped set Jules up for the night. Regulus came back from hanging out with Leo around ten pm; by that time, Jules was still wired for sound at the idea of a week-long sleepover. He finally went to sleep around eleven thirty and Sirius and Remus crash-landed into bed, exhausted.

Practice was going to be hell.

“Why do we have to wake up early, again?” Jules asked around a yawn.

Sirius ruffled his hair as he sat down again. “Practice starts at ten. Eight o’clock is not early at all.”

He squinted at him, confused. “How early do you usually wake up?”

“Seven, seven-thirty.”

Jules shuddered and turned back to his cereal while Remus plonked himself down in Sirius’ lap with a coffee cup, looking moments away from falling asleep again. “Children are exhausting. Why did we get two of them?”

“Hey!” Jules and Regulus said in unison, clearly offended.

“We’ve got terrible judgement,” Sirius laughed.

“Older brothers are the worst, right Jules?”

“Totally. Are you coming to the rink with us?”

Regulus shook his head. “Sorry, buddy, I’ve got college stuff to work on. Want to help me with paperwork?”

Jules made a face. “I’ll pass.”

“We’re leaving in forty minutes, okay?” Remus said, stretching his back as he stood up and left Sirius’ lap cold and empty. “Jules, please take a shower.”

“I smell fine!”

“You didn’t take one yesterday or the day before. Scoot.” Jules rolled his eyes and got up. “Don’t give me that look! And put your bowl in the sink.”

Sirius and Regulus shared a glance as Jules put his stuff away and trooped up the stairs. “Hi, Hope,” Regulus snickered.

Resignation overtook Remus’ face and he sighed. “Fuck. I’m turning into my mother already. Reg, you should take a shower, too.”

“I smell fine!” The withering look from both Sirius and Remus made him raise his hands in surrender and wander off to his bedroom. “I’m nineteen, not nine!”

”And yet we still need to babysit you,” Sirius called back. Finally, they were alone. He hopped up to sit on the counter and grabbed Remus around the waist as he passed by, pulling him back for a hug. “Good morning, sweetheart.”

“Good morning.” Remus kissed him gently, bracketing his hips with his hands. He looked tired, but happy. “I’m actually pretty excited to have Jules stay with us. Thank you for that, by the way.”

“Ne rien. It’s good to have people here.” They kissed for a moment longer, listening to the shower running upstairs and Regulus’ rummaging noises down the hall. “I swear to God, he’s like a raccoon.”

Remus laughed and leaned his forehead on Sirius’ shoulder. “He definitely sounds like one.”

“At least his room’s clean.”

“Cheers to that. He’s heading back tomorrow, right?”

“Mhmm. Dumo’s been bugging me for, like, three days.”

Remus hummed, wrapping his arms around Sirius and snuggling into him. “I love you.”

“I love you, too. We’ve only got a little bit of time before Jules is out, so we should get dressed.”

Remus groaned, but released his limpet hold. “That was so close to a perfect sentence.”

Sirius paused just before hopping off the counter and raised his eyebrows. “If we have extra time…”

“Come on, you,” Remus laughed, tugging him off the counter by the hand and hurrying toward the stairs.

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

They arrived at the rink at 10:05, and Sirius began bracing himself for the inevitable chirping as soon as he stepped out of the car. Jules bounced on his toes in excitement as they walked toward the building, laden with their hockey gear and still a bit frazzled from the mad dash out of the house.

“Is this the munchkin?” Moody asked when Remus knocked on the door to the PT office.

“Yep.” Remus looked down at Jules, whose eyes were wide and more than a little nervous as his grip tightened on Remus’ jacket hem.

“Alastor Moody,” he grunted, holding a hand out that Jules tentatively shook.

“Jules.”

“Wanna see how bones work, kid?”

Instantly, his nerves disappeared. “Yeah!”

Moody winked at them as he led Jules toward the joint models on the far wall and Sirius let out a slow breath. “He’ll be fine.”

“God, I hope so. If anyone can drive Moody off the wall, it’ll be my little brother,” Remus murmured as they headed off down the hall.

The yelling started the second Sirius opened the locker room door. “You’re LATE!” James shouted, grinning from ear to ear. “Hand over the badge, Captain.”

“We still have fifty minutes until practice starts, shut your face.” Sirius socked him on the shoulder and set his bag in the stall.

“What, pray tell, was the reason for this tardiness?” James leaned over and batted his eyelashes.

Remus rolled up a towel and smacked him on the ass with it. “My little brother.”

“Jules is here?” Leo perked up on the other side of the room, and Sirius saw several of the guys look over in excitement, as if they were hiding him in one of their bags.

“He’s staying with us for the week since my great-aunt passed away.”

“Shit, Loops, I’m sorry.”

Remus shrugged. “I never met her, but my folks went back for the funeral. Moody said he’d keep an eye on Jules during practice.”

“Lupin, Black, you’re late,” Coach Weasley said from the doorway, giving them a look over his glasses. “Do we need to have a conversation?”

“No, Coach,” Sirius said as he pulled his pads over his chest.

“I hear you’ve commandeered my head PT for the day.”

Remus shook his head. “If Jules starts bugging him—”

“I’m kidding, Loops.” Arthur’s mouth twitched into a smile. “Moody loves kids. This’ll be good for his disposition.”

Finn snorted. “Can’t get any worse.”

“I expect all of you on the ice in twenty. Any stragglers are doing laps outside!” Arthur slapped the edge of the doorway before ducking out into the hall again; his sneakers squeaked on the freshly-washed floor and Sirius stifled a laugh as he finished buckling up.

The five minute delay did not have a terrible impact on his pre-practice rituals, which he took a moment to be grateful for—they had a scrimmage planned, and he didn’t intend to lose. Once warmups were over, they moved into running plays, until finally the whistle blew and Coach called out the teams. Remus ended up on the other side and he slapped Sirius’ ass with his stick as he passed him, grinning over his shoulder before stopping next to Dumo.

Jules and Moody came out to watch a few minutes in; Sirius caught a glimpse of his wide eyes when he saw the speed of the game and smiled to himself. Everyone else seemed to notice the new arrivals as well, because their effort doubled and suddenly the plays were running smoother than ever.

Showing off for a ten-year-old, he thought with a shake of his head. Talk about baby fever.

Remus sped through the defense, weaving back and forth until he was nearly face-to-face with Sirius. His whole face lit up and he braced; when Sirius went to check him, he dipped sideways at the last second and slipped the puck right through his skates, catching it on the other side and zipping toward the goal at top speed. The goal light went off and Talker whooped, checking him in celebration.

“Lupin! Where’s that been all season?” Arthur demanded, though he was laughing. “Christ, guys, thanks for finally waking up!”

“Where the fuck did you learn that?” Sirius asked as they headed back for the face-off.

“You think you’re the only one who skates in the basement?” Remus said with a cheeky grin.

The whole rink buzzed with energy throughout the rest of the scrimmage—once or twice, Sirius realized even he was showing off a little for Jules, who cheered louder than fifteen thousand fans whenever someone scored.

Arthur shook his head when the final whistle went off. “Everyone say ‘thank you’ to Julian.”

“Thank you, Jules,” they chorused. Jules looked like he was about to die of happiness.

“I need to get him in here more often,” Arthur muttered as they headed to the locker room to change into their gym gear. “Let’s get that energy for every practice, okay? Not just the ones with Little Loops.”

“What are you talking about?” Kasey laughed.

Arthur fixed him with a look. “Don’t bullshit me, Winter, all of you were showing off for the kid.”

Remus blushed all the way to his ears, and the rest of them mumbled some half-assed excuses until they were shooed away. “I put the new schedule on the mirror,” Sirius called over the noise. “Try to pay attention to it for once.”

“Where’s the fun in that?” Logan reached up and patted him on the shoulder as he passed; Sirius dragged him back into a headlock to ruffle his hair. “Ow, fuck, okay!”

Logan did not, in fact, stick to the schedule. He was far too busy tossing the lightest medicine ball they had with Jules, who staggered slightly whenever he caught it. Both looked absolutely thrilled.

Sirius, on the other hand, was glad for the opportunity to do a fair bit of ogling while he spotted Remus—who stuck to the schedule, Sirius had never loved him more—until he finished his bench-pressing rotation. He was strong before being a player, but now…well, it was safe to say he could sweep Sirius off his feet literally and figuratively.

“Re, Re!” Jules ran over when Remus finally sat up, then paused and made a face. “You’re sweaty.”

Remus pulled him in for a hug, making him shriek and wiggle to get out. “I am, yeah! Isn’t it great? Here, lemme just—”

Jules flailed, but he couldn’t get out of Remus’ hold in time to avoid the head nuzzle that plastered his hair up on one side with sweat as the guys laughed. “Ewww!”

“Did you need something, buddy?” Remus asked at last.

“Well, now I need a shower.” Jules grimaced. “I was going to ask if you guys actually do ice baths.”

“Of course we do!” Kasey cut in before Remus could quickly divert the topic. “And your brother loves them.”

Sirius had to turn around to muffle his laughter as interest lit on Jules’ face. “Really? Can I see?”

Kasey opened the door dramatically. “Right this way, Little Loops.”

Two of the ice baths were full when they arrived and Sirius did not miss the pained look on Remus’ face at the sight, nor did he miss the devious smile on Kasey’s. Jules hurried over to one and looked over the end, practically sticking his whole face in. “Woah.”

“Pretty cool, huh? You want to know what the best part is?”

“What?”

“Oh, Christ,” Remus muttered.

“Loops, will you do the honors and make sure your darling little brother has a good time?” Kasey asked, the picture of innocence. Remus sighed and stood next to the ice bath, silently begging Sirius for help with his eyes as Kasey motioned Jules over. “Alright, so you take one of these, and then you have to be super careful as you aim. Lucky for you, you’re learning from the best.”

Remus winced as the first ice cube smacked him in the side of the head and gritted his teeth as the second went down the neck of his t-shirt. Sirius schooled his expression into the mildest, sweetest smile he could muster. “He’s not doing anything,” Jules whispered. Remus began taking deep breaths.

“He will.”

“Try me, Wint—oh, sh—” Remus muffled a squeak as ice went directly down his spine. “Hoo, boy, that’s cold.”

“I don’t think I’ve ever heard you censor yourself,” Kasey said, amazed. “It’s uncanny.”

“Are you done?”

“I could do this all day, but it’s my turn to make dinner tonight and Nat gets hangry if I’m late. Good game, Little Loops.” Kasey and Jules high-fived and Remus shook his shirt out; no less than four ice cubes clattered to the ground.

“Young man, you are in such big trouble,” Remus growled playfully as he swept Jules over his shoulder and began tickling his knees. Sirius dodged the squirming legs and held the door open for them as they walked back into the hallway. “You’re okay hanging out with Moody while we get our stuff together, right?”

“Yeah! He’s got the coolest knee statues.”

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

Dinner was anything but a quiet affair; all three of them had taken a nap when they got home, then had a dance party in the kitchen while Remus taught Jules how to actually cook chicken so nobody got food poisoning. Sirius was torn between begging them for the details of that particular story and wanting to stay as far away from it as possible.

Regulus and Jules got into a fierce game of footsie under the table that only ended when a small foot—he still didn’t know which one it was—slammed into the base of Sirius’ knee, hard enough that it would certainly leave a bruise. “Ow.”

They both froze, shared a look, then silently went back to eating. “Practice starts at nine tomorrow,” Remus said around a bite of broccoli. “That means wake up time is six thirty, okay? We’ve got a game on Thursday and it’s super important that we’re not late again. Reg, what time are you heading out?”

“I was thinking noon-ish? That way I can get my stuff set up while Dumo’s still at practice. Don’t want to bother him.”

Jules turned to him with the biggest, saddest eyes Sirius had ever seen. “You’re leaving?”

“I live with Dumo, remember?” Regulus hesitated. “I’ll be at the game, though.”

“Can I sit with you?”

“Absolutely.”

That seemed to placate him, and he turned back to his chicken happily. Sirius nudged his brother, giving him a significant look, which was met with an eye roll that couldn’t quite cover the fond flush on his face.

Jules and Regulus took care of the dishes after dinner and Sirius stretched out on the couch to the sounds of the kid’s excited chatter as he recounted the day’s events. Remus flopped down on top of him, settling between his thighs with a contented smile. “Today went well.”

“Yeah, it did.” Sirius began running his fingers through Remus’ soft hair. “I think Moody is about thirty seconds away from adopting him.”

Remus laughed against his chest. “I think so. It’s pretty cool seeing him so excited about PT stuff.”

“It is.” There was a slow sigh and Sirius raised his eyebrows. “What was that about?”

“I just realized that even though Reg is leaving tomorrow, we won’t have the house to ourselves for six more days. It’s been two weeks.”

Sirius closed his eyes and let his head fall back against the armrest. “Fuck. I didn’t even think about that. Think we can dump him on Dumo for a night?”

“We can handle six days, right?”

“Yeah, totally.”

There was a beat of silence. “This is going to be difficult.”

“If we make it to the three-day mark, I say we break open the Oreos as a reward.”

“Sounds good to me—oof.”

They both groaned as an extra hundred pounds of person squished on top of them. “Dishes are done!” Jules chirped.

“Did you wash your hands?” Sirius wheezed, blinking the dark spots out of his vision. Remus’ chin was digging into his upper ribs.

“Yep! Regulus wants to watch a movie. I think we should watch Jurassic Park, but he says it’s terrible—”

“He what?” Remus raised his head slightly and craned his neck to look back at the kitchen. “Regulus!”

“What?”

“You don’t like Jurassic Park? I thought you had taste!” Remus pushed off the couch and Jules wrapped all his limbs around him like an oversized koala. “We’re watching it tonight and you’re going to like it. Come on, baby, we need to make sure your brother has culture.”

Two hours later, as the credits rolled and three people snored gently, Sirius smiled to himself. He could handle a week of this.

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favefandomimagines · 4 years

Text

Then Let Me Go (g.w.)

Summary: you’ve been with George since your third year at hogwarts and you wondered if he’d ever propose

AN: this was inspired by a season 3 episode of glee where emma talks to will about marrying her and her OCD and i switched it up and used anxiety instead which is something i deal with all the time

You and George were the epic love story. You beat the odds, survived a war and had reached a mile stone of almost a decade together.

And yet you were at a stand still. Everyone around you was either married or engaged to be married.

Fred had just gotten back from his honeymoon with Angelina, Ron just got married to Hermione and Harry proposed to Ginny two months prior.

And then there was you and George. The epic love story that was grinding to a halt. That thought alone made your anxiety and overthinking worse than it’s been.

Being a half blood, you knew what anxiety was. Your mother had it when she was your age and it was something you dealt with every day. Your boyfriend had known about your illness early into your friendship, long before you were dating.

He was always there for you but now that he was the thing causing your anxiety, you didn’t know who to turn to.

George not proposing made you second guess everything you did. Thinking that the smallest wrong thing would lead to George to admit he didn’t want to marry you.

You were beginning to feel self-conscious and almost like you not revelling in the greatness that is pre marital or post marital bliss, you were a burden.

No one who’s married or engaged wants to hang out with the only person who’s not.

Angelina’s birthday was coming up and Fred had entrusted you in planning the event. Which you said yes to because not only was she your best friend, it distracted you from the constant mental chatter.

You were sitting at your kitchen table, going through the various ideas you had for Angelina’s party.

“Hello, darling.” George greeted you as he entered your shared home. “Hi, Georgie.” You replied, eyes not leaving your plans. “Are you still planning the party?” He asked.

The redhead sat across from you as he watched you hyper focused on your work. “Uh, yes. I just want everything to be perfect. I feel like there’s something missing.” You answered.

“Y/N, it’s going to be perfect. You just have to relax.” He said. “I can’t relax, George.” You muttered, hating the way he told you to relax.

“What’s really going on? I know there’s something wrong, there has been for months.” He commented.

You stopped your movements for a moment before looking up at him.

“D-Do you want to be with me? As in husband and wife?” You questioned. “Of course I do. But planning a wedding and having kids can be a lot for your anxiety, love. I don’t want you to be in that kind of environment.” George answered.

Though his answer was caring, thoughtful and putting you first, you were frustrated by it.

“George, I’m more than just this disease that I have. Every single day is riddled with anxiety but that doesn’t stop me from pursuing the things I love. I got a job at the ministry for Merlin’s sake, despite the constant feeling of not being good enough and that I don’t deserve it.” You started.

You paused to keep your emotions in check but George knew you like an open book.

“I want to marry you, George, I want to be your wife. But if me being so irrevocably in love with you isn’t enough and you only see my anxiety, then you need to let me go. Because this whole time I’ve been watching everyone in my life have what I want. And it’s not fair to either of us to stay in a relationship that’s come to a stand still.” You finished.

You cleared your throat and stood up from the table, heading into the guest bedroom. Locking the door behind you.

George inwardly groaned has he put his head in his hands. The truth was, he had decided he was going to propose to you a long time ago but then he had a conversation with one of his old friends from school and their words got in his head.

Your anxiety would just get worse if you had to plan a wedding and having to care and worry for a child would add on to that. But he was so incredibly wrong for letting that get to him.

—

It had been a week or so since the truth was revealed and Molly had invited you and George to the Burrow for a family dinner.

You and George hadn’t really talked since that day. He made it clear to you that he didn’t want to lose you or end the relationship that you both had jumped through hoops to keep.

The conversations were the usual, normal ones. Neither you of mentioning your previous conversation but the tension was very noticeable.

The whole Weasley family could tell something was off. The extended members included. You and George were usually the couple everyone wanted to be like and now, they couldn’t be happier they weren’t.

Before dinner was ready, Molly had asked if you could help her prepare dinner.

Now you’ve known Molly for years and she rarely asked people for help in the kitchen. The last time she did, it was holiday break and George asked you out the next day.

“Is there something going on with you and George?” She asked you. That was when you broke. No one had been upfront enough to ask you and the fact that someone had, was enough to make you let down your walls.

“I asked him if he thought about marrying me and he basically said he didn’t want my anxiety to ruin it. I didn’t think it was that much of an issue that he didn’t want to marry me.” You cried to the woman.

Molly wrapped you in a tight embrace and cooed you as you cried. “I don’t know what else I can do.” You added. The Weasley matriarch feared for your relationship.

Not only had you had a positive impact on his son but her family as well. Her and Arthur saw you as another daughter and they loved you as if you were their own. She didn’t like seeing you hurt especially at the hands of her son.

After a few minutes of her consoling you and cleaning yourself up, you helped her bring dinner out on to the table and took your ‘assigned’ seat next to George.

He could tell you had been crying. He knew that when your eyes were a little puffy and your eyelashes were damp, that you had been crying over him.

You had three types of crying; the crying over a book, which usually involves a couple stray tears. The frustrated crying, that involved you yelling and sobbing at the same time. And the crying over a boy. Which was quiet and sad, and he knew it quite well because it had been reserved for him for the past decade.

Under the table he placed a comforting hand on your thigh and he felt you tense under his touch before softening slightly.

Dinner soon came to an end, after the hour of grueling wedding talk and questions about when Fred and Angelina were having kids.

Everyone could see the distant look on your face as they talked about it. The only two people who knew what was actually going on was Angelina and Ginny.

While you were helping clean up the table with Ginny and Hermione, Molly pulled her son aside to have a much needed conversation.

“George, what is this I hear about you not wanting to marry Y/N?” She asked. “I-I know how it probably sounded to her. I made it sound really bad. But, I do want to marry Y/N, mum. I just, don’t know how to ask her.” George answered.

He stuck his hand in his pocket and pulled out the small ring box. “I’ve had the ring for a while I just couldn’t find the right time. It has to be perfect because she deserves nothing less than perfect.” He added.

“Sweetheart, Y/N will think it’s perfect because the man she loves is asking to spend the rest of his life with her. That’s all she wants. She wants you to want to marry her, flaws and all.” Molly told him.

George nodded his head as he looked at the ring in his hand. He quietly muttered an ‘excuse me’ to his mother before going to find you. The Burrow was important and significant to the both of you and if that wasn’t the best place, he didn’t know what would be.

“Y/N, may I borrow you for a second?” He asked you. You looked from him to Ginny as she nodded her head and took the plates from your hand. George intertwined his fingers with yours as he led you outside.

The two of you walked a ways away from the house, down the path of tall grass before you had come upon the clearing. The sunflowers were in full bloom around you and the air was warm, a slight breeze blowing.

“What did you need to talk about?” You asked him, avoiding eye contact by looking at the sunflowers blowing in front of you. “Y/N, I need you to know that I love you. I have loved you since I was 14 years old and I have loved you more every day since then. You’re perfect even when you don’t think you are,” George started.

You didn’t know where he was going with his declaration of love. “It’s like that line from that muggle poem you always say, uh what was it?” He stammered. “We loved with a love that was more than love. It’s from a poem by Edgar Allen Poe.” You interjected.

“Yes! That’s it! You and I, Y/N, are the epic love story just like that. And that is why I want to marry you. All of you. I want to live my life with you. I want to have kids with you, preferably twins but I’ll love them all the same. My point is,” George paused, getting down on one knee.

“Marry me, Y/N. Please.” He finished. Your answer to him was wrapping your arms around his neck and kissing him deeply. He didn’t hesitate kissing you back.

The two of you parted and George looked at you with a smile on his face. “Is that a yes?” He asked. “Of course it’s a yes.” You laughed. George laughed in relief as he took the ring out of the box and slid it on to your finger.

#imagine #imagines #fred weasley imagine #george weasley imagine #george weasley x reader #george weasley #harry potter imagine #hermione granger #ron weasley #draco malfoy #angelina johnson

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pregnant-piggy · 3 years

Text

Christmas at the Burrow

Fred Weasley x reader

this is part of All I want for Christmas is fanfiction

Words: 3.3k

A/N: Merry Christmas, my angels! Whether or not you celebrate Christmas, I hope you have an amazing day and have fun while I stuff myself on my mother’s delicious food

The snow had been falling all night and when you woke up the whole world was covered with a white layer of the glistening crystals. It was a precious sight to see; children playing in the snow, making snowmen and throwing snowballs. It took you back to when you were younger and you played with your little brother in the snow before your mother would call you inside for hot chocolate.

As you stood at the window you heard Fred stir in his sleep. He had never been the most comfortable to lie next to, but over the years you had learned how to deal with his constant moving. It had even become something you had grown to appreciate now.

You turned around from the window and looked at the open suitcase on the floor. Tomorrow was Christmas and Molly had invited you and Fred over to spend the holiday at the Burrow. You had gladly accepted the offer; you liked the Weasleys and it was always fun around them. Plus, you and Fred didn’t get to see them very often, so a holiday would be a great way to catch up.

Fred moved again, but this time he opened his eyes. He stared at the ceiling for a moment while his arm patted the empty space next to him, probably looking for your body. When he couldn’t find you he lifted his head. His eyes scanned the room and a smile spread on his face when he noticed you standing at the window.

‘Good morning, love,’ Fred said with his raspy morning voice.

‘Morning, Fred,’ you said and picked up a sock from the floor that had fallen next to the suitcase. ‘Are you ready to go?’ you asked, knowing very well that he had not even looked once at his bag.

‘Uhm, give me a minute,’ Fred said and he stepped out of the bed, scanning the room for his unpacked suitcase.

‘Take your time, babe,’ you reassured him. ‘We’re not leaving yet.’

Fred walked over to you and you saw his eyes widen when he noticed the snow outside. He wrapped his arms around you and rested his head on your shoulder as he looked outside. You placed a kiss in Fred’s neck and then pulled back from the hug.

‘Come on, your mother will kill us if we are late,’ you said and pushed Fred to the closet.

-o0o-o00-

The landscape around the Burrow looked magically in the snow. It looked like one of the paintings your grandparents had hanging in their house. Through the window in the living room you could see the lights from the tree and you saw Molly through the window in the kitchen.

The path to the front door had been cleared from snow but it was still slippery and you had to grab Fred’s shoulder to prevent to fall. He laughed and placed his arm around your waist. Slowly you walked to the door, regretting the sneakers you had decided to wear. The door swung open before you could even knock and you immediately felt Molly’s arms around you.

‘Oh, how lovely to see you!’ she exclaimed as he held you in her arms.

‘It’s good to see you too, Mrs. Weasley,’ you chuckled.

‘Please, call me Molly, dear,’ Mrs Weasley said. ‘You’re practically family now.’

‘You hear that Fred? It’s time for ring,’ Ginny teased from behind her mother. Fred turned slightly red and shot Ginny an angry glare over his mother’s shoulder.

Molly ushered you in and ordered Ron to take your suitcase and bring it upstairs. The youngest son grumbled but quickly disappeared with the bags when he saw his mother’s look. You followed Molly to the living room, where you found Hermione and Harry talking to Bill and Arthur.

The usual welcoming hugs were given and it took a while before you had said hello to everyone. Molly placed you on the couch when you offered to help her with anything and Fred slumped down next to you. His arm was around your shoulder immediately as he started to talk to his father.

You let your gaze wonder through the room. One corner was taken by the big tree, that was full with golden and red decorations. There were actual candles instead of the muggle lights you and Fred had in your tree. On the walls and around the windows were fir branches through which a golden ribbon had been waved. The candles on the coffee table lit up the books on it and the fire place was burning fiercely. The inside of the house was the complete opposite the scenery outside. But it matched the cosy feeling.

The Burrow was one of the few places you actually felt at home. The Weasleys made you feel welcome and safe and you were really thankful that they had taken you into their family without a doubt. You remembered that the first time you had met them, you had been really nervous even though Fred had kept assuring you that they would love you. It’s not every day that you meet the family of your boyfriend. But the nervousness had disappeared after ten minutes and had never returned since.

Molly had prepared the most wonderful dinner. The table stood full with delicious dishes and the kitchen was filled with scents that made your mouth water.

You all cramped around the dining table. You were pressed between Fred and Ginny and your feet touched Hermione’s if you stretched them just a little. But this was how it always was; cosy and, despite the lack of personal space, comfortable.

Dinner was as delicious as it looked. You listened to Fleur and Molly talk about Bill’s abilities as a father, now that Fleur had given birth to their daughter Victoire. Fleur told about the sleepless nights and the early morning and you chuckled to yourself as you internally were glad that you weren’t even thinking about children yet. You loved Fred with your entire being but a baby was not on your planning now and, as you heard Fleur’s complaints, you figured it would be a while before it was, if it even would be.

On the other side of you, Ginny was in a heated discussion with Ron. She claimed that Holyhead Harpies were far better than the Chudley Cannons, because not only were they higher than them in the rankings, they also had much more skilled players. To which Ron said, while waving his fork in the air and sprinkling his friends with pieces potato, that though the Cannons might not be the highest in the rankings, they had been going along for a long time and that showed that they were better.

After dinner, when Arthur had stopped the two youngest siblings’ discussion, everyone was sleepy and in a jolly mood from all the food. You plopped down on the couch and Fred lied next to you, his head in your lap. Your hand was playing with his hair while Molly turned on the radio to listen Celestina Warbeck, making her children groan as one. While the soft music played through the room, Fred closed his eyes for a second. You watched as he drifted off to sleep, his nose scrunching up when you tapped him on his forehead to keep him awake.

‘Don’t fall asleep, love,’ you whispered to him, so no one else could hear you.

‘’M not asleep,’ he muttered and rubbed his eyes as he sat up straight. ‘See? Bright awake!’

You kissed his grin and rested your head on his shoulder, taking his hand in yours. Fred wrapped his arm around you and pulled your closer to him, as he listened to his oldest brother trying to talk some sense in Ron.

‘Ron, just be a man and ask her to move in with you!’ Bill whisper-yelled and Ron shook his head. ‘You’ve been dating Hermione for two years now, you basically lived with her every summer since you met! What is keeping you?’

‘I don’t know,’ Ron mumbled. ‘What if she doesn’t even want to live with me?’

‘Ron, she is dating you. She really likes you,’ Bill said and he pushed Ron against his shoulder. ‘Just ask her. It’ll be the best Christmas gift!’

Ron sighed but he nodded and looked at Hermione, who was sitting on the other side of the room, talking with Ginny. You smiled at Ron’s nerves and lifted your head to talk to him. ‘She really does like you, Ron. Believe me, whenever we’re out she always talks about you.’

Something in Ron’s face changed and he smiled at you. ‘Yeah, I can ask her. She’ll like it. I’m sure she will…’

Fred presses a kiss to the side of your head and he squeezed your hand. ‘You’re too good for this world, sweetheart.’

-o0o-o00-

On Christmas morning you woke up with Fred clinging onto you. He had his eyes closed and his mouth was open a little, sending shivers down your spine every time he breathed out and his breath stroke over your skin.

A warm feeling spread over you as you realised it was Christmas. You nudged Fred awake softly and he lifted his head, his eyes still half closed and his voice sleepy.

‘Whut?’

‘Merry Christmas, dear,’ you whispered and kissed Fred lightly.

‘Merry Christmas, y/n,’ he said back and deepened the kiss.

You both quickly changed your actual sleeping clothes to the pyjamas Molly and Arthur had given you past Christmas and on your way downstairs you came across Harry and Ron, who were also wearing their pyjamas.

‘Merlin, I hope this year’s just jumpers,’ Ron grumbled, his arm stretching to his leg to scratch.

‘I agree,’ Fred mumbled and he shimmered his shoulders.

Though the thought behind the pyjamas was really sweet, they itched like hell. The fabric Molly had chosen was not one you would normally choose for something that was supposed to be comfortable. So the pyjamas were only worn whenever Molly and Arthur were around, because even though they might not be comfortable, you didn’t want to hurt their feelings.

The ground beneath the Christmas tree was covered with surprisingly many gifts. Now that you were all older, the gifts had gotten more personal and less. You weren’t greedy kids anymore. But the sight of that many presents did make you happy.

The sounds coming from the kitchen told you that Molly was already awake and preparing breakfast that would most likely be just as much as dinner last night. Music was coming from the kitchen to the living room, where you were. While, Ron and Fred sat down, you and Harry, as the good children-in-law you were, went to the kitchen.

‘Good morning,’ you said and Molly turned around to you. Her smile widened when she saw you and Harry were wearing the pyjamas.

‘Can we help with anything?’ Harry asked.

‘Oh no, dear don’t worry, there’s not much to do,’ Molly said while she stirred in a pot and gestured her wand at the plates in the cupboard, so they flew through the air to the table.

But being in the family for a while had taught both you and Harry that there was always something to do when Molly was cooking. Harry went to set the table and you took place at the counter kneading the dough for the bread Molly was making. The Weasley mother sent you and Harry a grateful smile and quickly wiped away a tear from the corner of her eye.

Soon you were joined by Hermione, who started to help you with making the bread. There was an easy conversation between the four people in the kitchen. You talked with Harry and Hermione about their jobs at the ministry and they explained the changes that they were trying to push through.

‘It’s not much and even less gets actually through, but it is motivation to see it change slowly,’ Hermione said while she formed little balls from the dough you handed to her.

‘I think it’s great,’ you said. ‘The ministry definitely needs some change.’

Not much later Fleur entered the kitchen, carrying Victoire on her hip. The little girl was slowly starting to wake and rubbed her eyes while she hid her face from the people in the kitchen. Fleur put her in her high chair, that stood at one end of the table, and gave her a bottle that the baby soon started to drink from.

‘At what time is George coming?’ Fleur asked, while she sat down next to her daughter.

‘Sometime after breakfast,’ you answered. From all the people in the kitchen you were the closest to George and apparently, as no one else gave an answer, the only one who knew what time he was coming.

‘Figure he made it late last night?’ Harry asked with a smirk on his face.

‘Yeah, I think so,’ you said, handing Hermione the last bit of dough. ‘He was going out with Lee and well, you know how that usually ends.’

‘That we know,’ Hermione mumbled disapprovingly. The last time you had all gone out together, George had forced everyone to stay till the sun came up and that had not fallen right with Hermione, who had had an early day at work the next morning.

When the bread stood in the oven and the rest of breakfast was done, Molly ordered everyone in the living room. You walked in on Fred, Ron, Bill and Ginny all focusing on a frenetic game of Ludo. From the looks of it, Ginny was winning and none of her siblings was agreeing with that.

‘Oh, come on!’ Bill cried out when his piece got thrown of the board by Fred. ‘Why would you do that? I only got one piece on the board!’

‘Sorry, mate,’ Fred shrugged as he placed his piece on the spot Bill’s had stood just two seconds ago.

All four of them were wearing their pyjamas as well and the colour combination was hideous. Molly however couldn’t be more happy to see her children in the things she had made for them and excitedly asked everyone to gather round so she could make a photo.

You all huddled together on and behind the sofa. You sat on Fred’s lap, Hermione was sitting next to him on the couch and Ron at her feet on the floor. On one arm of the couch Harry sat and on the other Ginny. Bill and Fleur stood behind the couch, their arms around their daughter. Arthur went to grab his camera and hurried off to the garage.

He was gone for a while and the longer it took, the less happy everyone got. Ron was hungry and asked when breakfast would be ready. Harry shifted uncomfortable on the armrest and kept scratching his knee. You were getting hot with Fred’s arms around you. Behind you Victoire wasn’t happy to wait either. Softly she began to whine, while Bill and Fleur tried everything to keep her quiet.

After twenty minutes Arthur came back with a red face and the camera in his hand. ‘I forgot where I put it last time.’

Everyone sat up straight and smiled at the camera. The light flashed and everyone sighed content after. You relaxed and moved away from Fred’s arms. Harry jumped off the armrest while he rubbed his bum and cursed the spot he had been sitting on.

‘Fred could you hold Victoire for a moment?’ Bill asked his younger brother and before getting an answer he pushed the girl in Fred’s arms.

Bill ran upstairs and Fred turned to his niece. ‘Hello little princess, are you having fun?’

You smiled as you watched Fred bounce Victoire around, talking to her as he showed her the room.

‘And this is y/n,’ Fred said when he walked over to you. ‘Can you say hello to y/n?’

You laughed and placed around arm around Fred’s shoulder as you smiled at Victoire. She giggled and scrunched up her face as she looked at you.

‘Merry Christmas, angel,’ you said and pressed a kiss to her forehead.

‘Smile!’ Hermione exclaimed and when you and Fred turned around to her, she was holding the camera and took a picture. The flash created spots on your retina and you had to blink for them to disappear.

‘Come, come, I believe breakfast is ready!’ Molly said from the kitchen.

-o0o-o00-

That afternoon you were sitting with the whole family in the living room again. George had arrived shortly after dinner and the bags under his eyes told you that he had in fact made it late the previous night. Nevertheless, his smile was still as bright as ever.

The pyjamas had been changed for jumpers, everyone with their own first letter. Yours was dark green with a red letter and Fred’s was red with a green letter. ‘To match,’ Molly had proudly said and you couldn’t get it over your heart to make a cheesy comment.

You were sitting next to Ron, who was fidgeting with the edges of his sleeves. He still hadn’t asked Hermione to move in with him and the anxiety was eating him up. So while Hermione had turned to Ginny, you spoke to him.

‘When are you gonna ask her?’

‘I don’t know. I’m nervous,’ Ron said and he flashed you a little smile.

‘Don’t be, Ron. She loves you and she’d be a fool not to move in with you. I know she will say yes.’

‘It’s a big step,’ Ron sighed.

‘It’s a really big step, but it will be a great one,’ you said and you thought back of when you and Fred first moved in together. ‘It’s a lot easier. You never have to worry about what time you were supposed to meet up or at whose place you’re going to stay. Plus, you know her so well, it will be easy!’

Ron thanked you and apparently decided to just get over with it, because he got up and asked Hermione if he could talk to her for a moment. As they left the room you made eyes with Fred and he made his way over to you.

‘I assume you have given him the final push?’ he asked as he slumped down beside you.

‘Why would you think that?’ you asked.

‘Because out of all people, you’re the only one who can make Ron actually do stuff. Bill and I have been trying to get him to ask her for months now. You’re here one day and now he’s doing it.’

‘He just needed a little motivation,’ you shrugged.

Fred laughed and pressed a kiss to the side of your head. Resting your head on his shoulder you watched Harry and Ginny as they played wizard’s chess. Harry was losing miserably, but you figured he only did so to see the happy look on Ginny’s face. He wasn’t even paying attention to the board as Ginny’s knight dragged his queen off the board, but instead watching her face.

Outside the sky darkened and little white snowflakes fell from the dark clouds. You stared out of the window and watched the world outside turn white. A warm, cosy feeling spread through your body as you felt the heat from the fire warm your face and the warmth that Fred’s hand around your waist brought. The light was reflected in the shiny golden Christmas ornaments in the tree and spectrums of golden specks showed on the ceiling. The scent of the pine tree and the slight burn of candles filled the room.

There was no other option than to smile at the family that was sitting around you and had made this the best Christmas.

- - - - - -

taglists:

general HP: @kitkatkl @girllety @yuptha-tsme @sleep-i-ness @iamak20 @thefuturelawyer @weasleydream @missmulti @deafgirltingz @moonstarrnghtsky @mytreec @lilulo-12fanfiction @emmaloo21 @kashishwrites @ananad1 @figlia--della--luna @kylosleftbuttcheek @mrs-malfoy-always @thefandomplace @magicwithaknife @mt2413 @aesthetically-hailey @superbturtlemakerathlete @the-natureofme @missswriter @hahee154hq

Weasley twins: @susceptible-but-siriusexual

MASTERLIST

#all i want for christmas is fanfiction #merry christmas #fred weasley x reader #fred weasley imagine #fred weasley #fred x reader #fred imagine #fred #weasley twins #harry potter #harry potter x reader

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theshelbyclan · 4 years

Text

Swords and Daggers

Summary: When a family meeting is interrupted by your sudden menstrual cramps, your brothers do everything in their power to take care of you

(gif by @nofckingfighting) A/N: Anon requested: can you do a shelby!sister imagine where she’s gets these awful cramps and in the middle of a family meeting she just bursts into tears because it hurts so bad and omg the boys would be so soft As I’m currently dying of cramps, it made sense to write this. It’s short, but I hope you like it. Words: 1585 *** “This Saturday,” Tommy started, “We’re going legit. John, you and Johnny Dogs are gathering the men at the Charlie’s yard. Arthur, I need you on the tracks, keep the Lee men off. You can take Finn. I will create a distraction and… Y/N, are you okay?” “Fine,” you ground out, not really wanting to attract attention to yourself, “Tell me where I’ll be.”

“At home,” your brother said shortly. “Like hell I am,” you said, “If we’re going legit, I want in. Why the fuck else am I even here?” “Fuck if I know,” Polly sighed, “being decorative, I suppose.” Tommy shot daggers at his aunt and then turned back to you, “If you ladies have any problems with how I run…” “If we have any problems, we know to shut out mouths and get on with it,” Ada commented from the other side of the round table. “Remember we used to run this entire organisation, Thomas,” Polly scolded, “While you boys were off to France.” “Yes,” Thomas sighed, downing his drink, “I am aware, Pol,” Her look still had some effect on him, much to her satisfaction, “You remember that when you no longer care for our input.” “Fine!” he caved, “Y/N, what role do you want to play?” But you had stopped listening already. In all honesty, you didn’t feel well at all and so Tommy’s words seem to come from very far away. Still, you’d fought years and years to feel like you were a part of the Shelby Company Limited. Women were respected in this family, but never quite on the same level as the men. Sure, it’d been fine for you to take care of business while your brothers were away, and you and Aunt Polly had happily taken on the entire enterprise. With her head for strategy and your head for numbers, sharing the iron Shelby backbone, it’d been quite the dream team. But the boys came back and without many words of thanks, it’d been taken from you as well. There were so many mixed emotions that came with their return from France, but a day didn’t go by that you didn’t curse those men up top who decided to send boys into the mud to die for them. Tommy still stared at you, impatient and a little annoyed, so you said, “I’ll go to Epsom early. I still have the dress. I’ll let Arthur know where the Lee men are and what they’re planning.” Arthur grumbled something inaudibly and when you fixed him with one of your glares, he said, “You want to waltz in there, all dolled up and ready for the taking by any Lee bastard?” “Think I can’t do it, Arthur?” you said coldly. “We know you can do it,” Tommy interrupted, “Doesn’t mean we have to like it.” “I’m not fucking seven, Thomas,” you spat. Another sharp pain went through you and you found yourself physically doubling over in your chair. John immediately turned towards you, “What’s the matter?” “I’m good,” you tried to smile. “Doesn’t look like it…” “Maybe it’s food poisoning,” Arthur ventured. “It’s not.” “What is it then?” Both brothers said in unison. “Just…” you gritted your teeth as another wave of pain came over you, “leave me alone!” “Can’t do that, little sister,” Arthur moved to touch your arm, but you angrily pushed him away.

“She’s not doing good, Tommy,” John’s voice was full of alarm.

Arthur even stood up, “And she’s not fighting any bloody Lee men like that!”

“Calm down,” Aunt Polly said, “Women have been doing it for ages, every month, come hell or high water.”

“That may be so,” Tommy put down his drink, “but this is our sister.”

“I’m fine…” you croaked again, but you weren’t, at all.

“You’re not,” another unhelpful brother said, “you need to be in bed.”

“WILL YOU ALL FUCKING STOP TELLING ME WHAT TO FUCKING DO!” you suddenly burst out, and before you knew it, you had started sobbing.

“Oh no…” John said softly.

“Tom,” Arthur said unsurely, not knowing what to do with himself, “What do we do?”

He quickly took charge and picked you up from your seat. Held bridal style, he walked around the table and you could feel your brothers’ gaze on you, “She needs to be in bed.”

You still protested weakly, “Tommy…”

“Shhh,” he said softly, “We can talk about your plan to seduce the Lees in the morning, eh?”

As he walked with you up the stairs, you suddenly felt yourself lean into him. It felt safe, right there in his arms.

“Water bottles?” you heard one panicky brother shout downstairs.

“Boil the water!” the other replied, “I’ll get the blankets!”

“Ada! Where the bloody hell did you hide that chocolate?!”

You had to smile a little, “You’d think I’m dying…”

“Well, the truth is, sweetheart,” Tommy said in that soft voice he reserved only for you, “We have no idea what you’re going through. We spend half our lives talking to women, flirting with women, being with women…”

“Yeah, alright, I get the point,” you cut him off jokingly.

He pretended like he hadn’t heard you, but a small smile was tugging at his lips, “But we have no idea what it feels like, to lose all that blood…”

“What about France?” you asked.

“That was different, love,” he gently placed you on your bed, “That was a one-time thing and not a monthly struggle. Besides, we weren’t expected to just ignore it and get on with work.”

“I want to work,” you pouted.

Tommy sighed, “Y/N. Listen to me. I know you want to work for the company. I know you. You’re a Shelby and you don’t like being idle. I know. But for tonight, work is done. Get some sleep, eh?”

Suddenly, Arthur came rushing in. It was clear he felt incredibly awkward, but the fact that his arms were filled with hot-water bottles, blankets and chocolate showed he cared, deeply. There were times that you loved your awkward brother more than anyone in the world, and this was one of those moments. You smiled at him full of gratitude and he left quickly after, knowing he’d be back every few hours to check on you. He was the oldest brother after all.

You tried to find a comfortable position for a few moments and the occasional grunt of pain escaped your lips. Tommy looked at you with worry written all over his face, “Don’t know how you fucking do it every month…” he whispered.

“Careful,” you feigned shock, “people might think you’re a feminist.”

He slowly lit a cigarette, “And what if I am, eh?”

You scoffed and reached out, “Give me the cigarette. It helps.”

Another few minutes passed and John stuck his head around the door, “Y/N? Esme tells me it helps when I rub her back. Do you need me to do that?”

“I’ll be fine, John, thanks,” you smiled at him. Where you and Arthur had a bond that required no words, with John it was all words, but they were always good and open and honest. If you needed to talk, you turned to John.

He paused for a second, “What about a doctor, do you need a doctor?”

This made you laugh out loud, “John, sweetheart, this is perfectly normal and it does happen every month. We’d be wasting the doctor’s time!”

“Esme told me to tell you that it’s perfectly normal and there’s nothing wrong with you…”

“I know, John. I’m sixteen: I’ve been doing this for a while now.”

“Right,” he mumbled, “I knew that…”

“John?” you eventually asked and when he looked at you again, you said, “Thank you. I’ll manage.”

“Will you let me know?” John said with a serious look on his face, “If you do need something?”

“How? You’re four houses away. I’m not screaming loud enough for you to hear it, waking up the whole bloody street!”

“Just knock,” he replied, “Sleeping in my old bed tonight, just down the hall,” and before you could protest, he was gone and called from the hall, “Goodnight, babe!”

Tommy still sat in the corner, smoking quietly. You weren’t quite sure why he was there, but his presence was comforting. With Arthur it was protection, with John it was words, but with Tommy it was just his presence. When you two locked eyes, he gave you a warm smile, and it was just like you were six again. Before that god-awful war, he’d always been there. Tommy was the brother who couldn’t be dragged away from his little sister, always trying to get you to ride his pony. He followed you wherever you went and he gave you everything you ever wanted. But after the war, his head was filled with smoke, mud and ambition. But this, this felt like before, and it was good. Maybe it was even worth the swords and daggers attacking your uterus at the moment.

You started feeling yourself drifting off to sleep, with the warm bottle pressed against your abdomen. But before you slept, you mumbled, “I love you, Tommy…”

“Is this another hormonal thing?” a deep voice said in reply, with some sarcasm echoing through.

“Probably,” you smirked, “I’ll hate you again tomorrow, alright?”

“Good. You can take out that anger on the Lees, eh?”

“I will,” you heard your own voice was getting muffled. Still, you felt a small triumph of being allowed to go in the morning.

“Sleep, Y/N,” he almost sung, from a great distance it seemed, “And I love you too.”

***

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official-weasley · 3 years

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Tiger - (The Irreplaceable Charlie Weasley AU)

Warnings: is getting a pet a warning? 🤔🙈

Word count: 5,205

Characters: Charlie Weasley and my OC Nova from TICW which you can find here

Nova

“Mum, when is dad coming home?”

Aoede and I were sitting on our sofa, watching cartoons and eating cookies. An episode of Tom and Jerry just ended and Aoede noticed that Charlie wasn't home yet.

“In a few minutes, sweetheart.” I ran my fingers through her soft hair, getting another cookie from the bowl.

“Is he late?” Aoede posed another question.

“No. It's five minutes until 3 o'clock so he hasn't finished working yet.”

“I wish he didn't have to wolk that long.” Aoede sighed.

“Oh, sweetheart, me too. But he works every day until 5 or 6 so he is already coming early today because it's Friday.” I wiggled the bowl to switch Aoede's attention to cookies.

“Fliday and Sunday ale my favolite. You know why, mum?” Aoede turned to me before trying to stuff an entire cookie in her mouth.

“Why?” I giggled, watching the chocolate get smeared all over her face.

“On Fliday, daddy comes home earliel and we have a cuddle day and on Sunday we have pancakes fol blefcast.” Aoede clapped excitedly.

“Breakfast, Aoede.” I corrected her.

“Bleak...fast.” Aoede furrowed her brows trying to remember the word.

“There you go! Nice job!” I pulled her in a half hug.

She was sitting next to me because my belly was too big for her to sit in my lap.

“You know what,” I said after I took a bite of yet another cookie, “Fridays and Sundays are my favorite too.”

“Leally? Because of daddy being home and pancakes?” Aoede's eyes were sparkling.

“Because we all cuddle on the sofa and pancakes.” I sniggered.

“What about dad?” Aoede asked curiously.

“Meh.” I swung my hand, trying to sound uninterested.

“Mum,” Aoede gasped, “stop it! You love dad!”

“I do,” I giggled, “nothing gets past you, does it?”

“You tlied to tlick me!” Aoede fully turned to me and took my cookie. “No cookie fol you!”

“Hey, give that back, I'm eating for two!” I made puppy eyes at her.

“Those only wolk on dad, mum.” Aoede giggled and put my cookie in her mouth.

“You are too smart for a 3-year-old.” I playfully shook my head.

“I am just good at taking youl cookies,” Aoede said with her mouth full.

“Want to watch another episode or should we wait for dad?” I reached for the remote.

“Wait fol dad. I will talk to the baby now.” Aoede cleared her throat after finishing the cookie.

I still didn't like the fact that Charlie raised his voice at her the night Bill and Fleur came by. I wasn't used to it as my parents rarely had to do it with me and I have learned from them that most of the time just talking peacefully works wonders.

Before Aoede was even born, Charlie expressed his concern about how his mother always shouted at him and his siblings and that he doesn't want to be like her and made me swear that I would scold him if I ever notice he is turning into his mother.

He might not have shouted at Aoede like Molly used to shout at her boys, but it was evident that he has lost his temper with her and I wasn't okay with that. Especially, when Fleur told me that she was the same when her sister was born and later Bill trying to calm me down telling me that he and Charlie were the same when their younger siblings were born.

Charlie and Aoede worked it out the second Charlie and Bill came back inside and he apologized to me 3 times that night before we went to sleep.

Even though I forgave him the second he sat down and talked to our daughter I couldn't help but notice that by raising his voice Aoede started to warm up to the fact that she is getting a sibling.

The first thing she did, she asked me when the baby is coming. Then she asked Charlie if she can join him when he was singing to my belly. To say that we were both shocked by her sudden change of heart was an understatement but at the same time, we were over the roof about the fact that we could talk about the pregnancy in front of her without her glaring at us.

She usually played with her Unicorn plushie or did puzzles – which her grandpa Artie sent her the second we told him she finished the dinosaur one – when Charlie was either talking or singing to the baby. It was progress that she didn't mind, but last week she got curious and actually listened to what he was doing.

Two days ago, when Charlie was still at work, she stopped playing all of a sudden and walked to me, avoiding my eyes. I had never seen her so shy around me so I asked her what was going on. After a lot of mumbling to herself and fiddling with her fingers, she admitted that she would like to try and talk to the baby.

I did my best, hiding the fact that her action shocked me and made her sit next to me on the sofa so she could sit on my legs and talk to the baby. She only introduced herself before getting too shy and jumping off me to go back to her toys but it meant the world to me.

Charlie, of course, couldn't believe it when I told him and was hoping he would get to see it and since she wanted to do it again today, there wasn't a doubt in my mind that he will be able to witness this miracle sooner or later.

“Okay, whenever you are ready.” I smiled softly at her, gently stroking her hair.

“Hello.” She tapped on my belly so lightly that it tickled me. “Uhm, mum I don't know what to say.”

“Well, your dad usually tells the baby stories.” I encouraged her.

“Oh, I know plenty of those!” Aoede's eyes sparkled as they did every time she got an idea.

“Hi, baby!” She waved at my belly. “I love cookies. My uncle Geogie makes the best ones and I love when he comes and we make them togethel. I love the ones with chocolate the most! You will love uncle Geogie, he is so funny! But uncle Bill is my favolite. He has longel hail than dad and he lets me play with it. He isn't as funny as uncle Geogie but his stolies ale fun! He loves auntie Fleul. She is vely pletty and...”

Before Aoede could continue the front door unlocked and Charlie stepped inside.

“I'm home!” He sang.

“Daddy, shhh! I'm talking to the baby!” Aoede whispered with a finger in front of her mouth.

“You are what?” Charlie raised his eyebrows and locked eyes with mine.

“She's talking to the baby,” I whispered, trying not to giggle too much to disturb her.

Charlie was quick to put his jacket away so he could join us as he couldn't wait to be a part of this. He kissed Aoede's forehead and got a little groan in return for disturbing her. Then he gently pushed me upward so he could sit down and I positioned myself in his arms. He kissed the top of my head, listening to Aoede tell the baby all about her uncles and aunts and why she loves each of them.

“The last one is uncle Pelcy. I only saw him once. Daddy doesn't like him much I think...” Aoede gave her words some thought.

I looked up at Charlie who swallowed thickly, his eyes on our 3-year-old.

Percy came home for the first time about 2 months after the war. The reactions to his action varied. Arthur and Molly were just happy he was back. Ron, George, and Ginny didn't want to hear him out at all. Charlie and Bill were hesitant and asked him to give them some time to think everything through.

Because Charlie wanted Aoede to have all her uncles in her life, he invited Percy to stay with us at the end of last year. It was very awkward but I saw that Charlie tried to understand where Percy was coming from and even though their relationship is still a bit shaky, they exchange a few letters per month.

“I...ah, mum! Ah, what did I do?!” Aoede suddenly jumped in the air, her eyes widened in horror, looking at my belly.

“What happened?” Charlie got alarmed.

“Nothing,” I giggled, “the baby just kicked and Aoede felt it.”

“Oh.” Charlie sighed in relief, tightening his arms around me.

“The baby kicked?” Aoede tilted her head and slowly climbed back on my legs.

“Yes. That's what you felt.” I chuckled, finding her reaction amusing.

“I didn't hult you?” She was still in shock.

“No, sweetheart. You did the same when you were in my belly.” I gently grabbed her shoulder and pulled her toward me to give her a hug and calm her down.

“O-okay.” Aoede took a deep breath and buried her head in my shoulder.

“So, if I am not mistaken, it's cuddle day.” Charlie grinned at us, trying to make Aoede forget about the kick.

“Yes!” Aoede exclaimed and carefully climbed off me and jumped to the floor.

“Where are you going?” Charlie asked her as she started walking to the drawer where I had my art supplies.

“I want to look at mum's dlawings.” She explained as she pulled out one of my sketchbooks and walked back to us.

“I thought you'd want to watch cartoons.” Charlie teased her.

“No. Mum and I watched Tom and Jelly befole. I want to do this now.” She lifted her hands in the air for Charlie to help her back on the sofa.

“Do you want to watch a cartoon?” Charlie whispered in my ear.

“Sure.” I smiled at him and gave him the remote.

“Mum, look!” Aoede turned the sketchbook to me. “It's Blue but little!”

The sketchbook was opened on a drawing of a kneazle which I drew the year I came to Romania. Blue was Felix's kneazle and is now living with Andrei. Aoede loves to go there not only to play with the animal but also to spend time with Andrei who she calls her best friend.

The first time Andrei heard her say that he shed a tear and didn't understand what he did to deserve that title but gladly took it. Andrei is the one who first showed Aoede a picture of a unicorn and told her all sorts of stories about his interaction with the creature. Andrei is even better at telling stories than Charlie is so it's no surprise that unicorns are her favorite creatures.

“Yes, that's Blue when he was still a cub.” I thumbed through the book to find the other drawing of him. “See, that's him too.”

“Oh, so pletty. I love Blue, mum.” Aoede was admiring my drawing, her eyes sparkling.

“I know you do, sweetheart.” I watched her trace her little finger over the lines of Blue's ears.

“Mum, can we get a kneazle?” Aoede said more to herself than to me.

“You think you are old enough to take care of a kneazle?” I raised my eyebrows at her.

“Yes! My best fliend showed me how to feed Blue and how to make Blue's ful look pletty and shiny!” Aoede closed the sketchbook, her eyes locking with mine.

“Hmm,” I tapped my chin with my finger, giving the idea some thought. “I love your idea.”

I grinned at her, making her eyes even bigger and if it would be possible sparks would fly out of them.

“But we have to ask dad first.” I pressed my lips together knowing this is going to be very amusing to watch.

“Dad, dad! Mum and I want a kneazle!” Aoede was shaking from excitement.

“What now?” Charlie mumbled, his eyes still on the telly.

“A kneazle, dad! Oh, can we? Please!”

“What about a kneazle, Pumpkin?” Charlie asked absentmindedly.

“We want one!” Aoede started to look annoyed because Charlie still didn't look at her.

“Wait what?” Charlie turned down the volume and looked at his daughter.

“We want a kneazle, dad! We want a kneazle!” Aoede bounced on my legs.

“We?” Charlie cocked an eyebrow, his gaze switching from Aoede to me.

“I said she has to ask you first.” I winked at him.

“Why me? Why do I have to decide?” Charlie narrowed his eyes at me.

“You're the man of the house, aren't you?” I sniggered.

“Right.” Charlie nodded his head, still a bit confused about how we are suddenly discussing having a pet. “Well, what did you say?” He whispered to me.

“I said that I love her idea,” I replied.

“You did?” Charlie tilted his head. “You think she's ready to have a pet?”

“I am!” Aoede crossed her arms on her chest.

“Love, we are 14 days from your due date, we'll be busy with the baby. How are you planning to take care of a kneazle too?”

“You are making some good points, Charles.” I nodded. “However, I think Aoede has enough experience because of Blue to take care of one.”

“She's 3!” Charlie exclaimed.

“So that's a no?” I pouted. “I think that's a no, Aoede.”

“Why!” Aoede whined.

“Wait, how do you think this is a good idea?” Charlie ignored our daughter.

“Well, you know I wanted to get a pet ever since we moved to Romania but then we didn't have the time and now we have a house and you know we will always find an excuse and honestly since we both love animals so much, it's a miracle we don't have a zoo already.”

“Okay, true, but you know that Aoede is too young to take care of it alone and I will be at work so you will have to feed it and everything.” Charlie sighed.

“I am aware of that, Char. But it would also be a good opportunity to teach Aoede to be responsible and I can handle a toddler, a baby, and a kneazle.”

“Daddy, please!” Aoede looked at Charlie with the biggest puppy eyes I have ever seen. “I will help mummy, I plomise. I will feed it evely molning and evely night and I will tlain him to poop and I will give him lots of cuddles!”

“Yeah, there's no doubt about the last one.” Charlie tried not to look at Aoede because he knew he won't be able to resist her looking at him like that.

“Admit it, you want it too.” I nudged him, whispering.

“Of course, I want it.” Charlie ran his hand across his face, still not fully convinced.

“So we ale getting a kneazle?” Aoede gasped.

“Oh, I don't know.” Charlie gave it some thought.

“Please!” Aoede and I said in unison, making puppy eyes at Charlie.

“I swear if our second born has your eyes, you three will be the death of me.” Charlie sighed in defeat.

“I think that's a yes, Aoede.” I giggled and high-fived her.

“Yes!” Aoede thrust her hands in the air, carefully climbed off me, and started dancing around the living room.

“I can't believe I was the one who needed convincing for us to have a pet,” Charlie whispered after a few moments of us giggling and watching out daughter celebrate.

“I know it's kind of an impulsive and an irresponsible decision but I know we can do it and I believe Aoede will take care of it. She loves to help Andrei with Blue and honestly, he has taught her a lot about kneazles.” I defended my decision.

“That's true, she is pretty responsible for her age and I guess it would be a good distraction for her from the baby in case she ought to change her mind.” Charlie scratched the stubble below his chin.

“I mean we kind of owe her for having another baby.” I chuckled.

“Oh, great. So what are we getting her when we're having our third child?” Charlie raised his eyebrows at me, looking amused.

“Let this one be born first, will you?” I laughed.

“I can't wait.” He kissed me first on the nose, then on the lips.

“So, are you really okay with it?” I asked.

“Yeah, why not.” Charlie shrugged. “You tamed a chimera which is supposed to be untamable, how hard can having a kneazle be?”

“I guess we'll find out soon.” I nodded my head at Aoede who was still running around the room shouting that we are getting a kneazle.

Charlie

The morning after we decided to get a kneazle, we visited Andrei to see if he knows anyone who breeds them. Even though my girls convinced me to get one, I still wasn't sure it was a good idea. It wasn't that I didn't want one – in that regard, I thought it was a good idea too – but I was worried for Nova and how she'll be able to handle everything while I'm at work.

The second pregnancy has been draining her and I have no idea how she will be after she gives birth and Aoede is getting more energetic each day and even though I will help her as much as I possibly can, I will have to go to work too and I don't want Nova to be exhausted for the next year because we decided to get a pet.

When we woke up in the morning I told Nova that I will ask Andrei if he thinks it's a good idea and if he reckons we can take care of one with having a baby on the way.

We walked to the Sanctuary – well Aoede ran most of the way because she was too excited – and knocked on Andrei's door when we reached his cottage.

“Aoede! What a pleasant surprise!” Andrei grinned when he saw our little one.

He picked her up and twirled her in the air.

“Andy, Andy, we are getting a kneazle!” Aoede told him the news the second he put her down.

“You are?” He bestowed her with a grin before turning to us. “That's sudden.”

“Yes, very,” I spoke first.

“Charlie thinks it's a bad idea with the baby on the way.” Nova followed.

“I think your timing couldn't be more perfect,” Andrei said casually.

“Really?” Nova and I said together.

“Kneazles are the best pets to the people they can trust and they tend to trust children more. Aoede is great with Blue, he simply adores her meaning she is trustworthy. If a kneazle trusts the whole family then they are better behaved than most cats. All you'll have to do is feed it, comb its fur around 3 times per week and play with it, which I think won't be a problem.” Andrei nodded his head to where Aoede was sitting on the floor, playing with Blue.

“So they aren't too high maintenance?” Charlie wanted to know.

“Not at all. They are a much better first-time pet than crups. They learn faster because they are highly intelligent and they don't have as much energy as crups so they mostly like to cuddle with you.” Andrei continued with a smile on his face.

He then asked us how we came to the idea and Nova explained how Aoede saw Blue in my sketchbook and made him laugh when she told him how they convinced me to get one.

“Why were you against it, Charles? You and Nova have been discussing getting a pet since you moved here.” Andrei teased him.

“That's what I said!” Nova chuckled.

“Well, I was just hesitant with the new baby and I won't be home all the time to help around the house and...” I sighed. “I guess I just got worried.”

“Understandable,” Andrei nodded, “you know you'll get some time off when the baby arrives and in case your kneazle will be too much to handle you can always bring it here.”

“Thank you, Andrei.” His words calmed me down.

“Do you know anyone who breeds them or where we could get one?” I wanted to know.

“Mary would be your best call. She lives in the same village you do and Felix got Blue from her.” Andrei answered my question.

“Wait, you mean Mary Hucklewood? The one that has the drug store?” Nova got excited.

“The very same!” Andrei smiled.

“Oh, that's going to be easy, Char! She's a really sweet lady. I had no idea she's a kneazle breeder.”

“Yeah! Her kneazles won some amazing awards on shows and such. I am sure she'll be able to tell you more!” Andrei looked towards where Aoede was still playing with Blue.

“Did you hear, Pumpkin? We know where to get a kneazle.” I kneeled next to her and rubbed Blue's belly.

“Leally? Can we go now?” Aoede gasped.

“We can't just leave Andrei after being here for 10 minutes.” Nova giggled.

“I would love to come with you if you'll have me. I have to buy some groceries anyway and I haven't seen Mary for a long time.” Andrei said, winking at Aoede.

“See! We can go now! We can go now!” Aoede was jumping up and down.

Without saying another word, we walked to the door and headed back to the village.

“How are you feeling?” I asked Nova as we were walking hand in hand, Andrei, and Aoede right in front of us.

“The walk is doing me good. My feet hurt but I had to move from that sofa eventually.” She said softly. “Not 14 days before your due date.” I tried hiding the concern in my voice. “And I'll massage your feet the second we get home.”

“Thank you, Char.” Nova smiled appreciatively at me before turning to see what made Aoede squeak.

“Mummy, daddy, we're here!” She pointed at the house on our left, hardly containing her excitement.

“Now, Aoede, even if Mary has a kneazle for us to adopt, it doesn't mean we will get it today, okay?” I kneeled next to her.

“I know, dad.” Aoede sighed disappointedly but I knew she understood the situation.

“Go ahead, then. Knock on the door.” Nova nudged her so she got closer.

Aoede took a deep breath and knocked on the door so gently that I was sure the lady inside the house won't be able to hear her.

It was amusing to see Aoede nervous but in a way admiring to watch her in this state because she showed me that despite being so young, this means a lot to her.

“I think we should let Aoede do all the talking so that we see if she is really ready for this,” I whispered to my wife.

“Okay, she seems a bit nervous.” Nova giggled.

“Yeah, she's adorable.” I followed her lead, waiting for someone to get the door.

“Maybe you should knock again, Pumpkin.” I encouraged our daughter when she started to turn around to look at us.

She did as she was told, her knock more determined this time.

“I'm coming, I'm coming! Pretzel, dear, move to the side so I can open the door.” We heard the voice in the house say.

The door creaked opened and a lady in her fifties was standing in the doorway.

“Andrei, Nova! What a pleasant surprise!” The woman grinned at them.

To me, the woman seemed familiar but Nova usually paid more attention to people than I did because she reckoned that we should know the people who live around us in case there would be any spies – that was back when we were at war.

“Hi, Mary! Long time no see!” Andrei waved at the woman.

“And you must be Nova's husband Charlie and I bet this little cutie is Aoede.” She locked eyes with me and smiled before bending down to shake Aoede's hand.

“That is me!” Aoede beamed. “Maly, this is my best fliend Andy and my mummy and daddy and we ale hele because you gave Blue to Andy and mummy and I want a kneazle. See, daddy isn't sule but he said that we can have one if we will take cale of it and I plomise, I plomise Maly that I will take the best cale of my kneazle. Blue leally likes me!”

Nova and I chuckled at Aoede's enthusiasm, Mary however looked surprised.

“You sure know how to make a good first impression, Aoede,” Mary said after waiting for a moment longer if Aoede is done talking.

“And all that she said is true, she is amazing with Blue and he adores her.” Andrei supported Aoede's statement.

“Oh, I have no doubt about that.” Mary nodded toward Aoede who was petting one of Mary's kneazles. “Pretzel doesn't trust a lot of people and he has certainly never let anyone touch him the first time he meets them, so your daughter is really good with animals.”

I blinked a few times before exchanging a look with Nova – getting all teary-eyed and proud of my daughter. From the looks of it, Nova wasn't doing any better, as she sniffed and couldn't stop smiling.

“Unfortunately, you would have to wait until the next year. I have given away the good kneazles from my last litter a few weeks ago so I am afraid you are too late.” Mary bowed her head, sadly. “Kneazles breed only once per year, if they do, so it's hard to say.”

“Oh,” Aoede tried her hardest not to sound disappointed even though I could see her eyes filling with tears.

“What did you mean with the good kneazles?” I asked.

“The ones that are suitable for shows and further breeding,” Mary explained.

“We would have it as a pet and we are not looking to breed kneazles.” Nova's voice turned cheerful.

“Well,” Mary put her hands on her hips, “there is one then. I was planning to keep him for myself but if he'd like you I would gladly give him to you.”

She invited us inside and we followed her upstairs.

“What's wrong with him?” Nova wanted to know.

“He is completely healthy and loves to eat,” Mary laughed, “but there was an accident when the litter was a few weeks old.”

“What happened?” Aoede got curious.

“He was trying to make friends with my Venomous Tentacula.”

Mary opened the door and motioned with her hand that we should come inside.

“Hi, sweetness, I brought you some company,” Mary said in a baby voice.

The room was full of kneazle equipment and the kneazle Mary addressed was the only one inside. He was orange with brown spots and the only thing I could see being wrong with him was the tipped left ear.

Andrei, Nova, and I stood in the doorway while Nova encouraged Aoede to enter the room. She made a cautious step toward Mary, fidgeting with her fingers.

“Go on, he's friendly.” Mary smiled at Aoede.

Aoede took a deep breath and sat down. Nova's eyebrows raised, while Andrei and I exchanged a look.

Aoede didn't move nor called the kneazle, she waited patiently for him to come to her. Since kneazles are big on trust this was a smart move and it blew me away that my three-year-old knew what to do.

The kneazle tilted its head to the side and observed Aoede as if she was the only one in the room. He looked very playful and after a few moments approached Aoede carefully. He sat down right in front of her and tilted his head again.

I have never seen my daughter sit so still. She was always running around or talking to us or drawing on my arm or making ponytails on my head or painting my nails. The only time she didn't move was when she was sleeping and even then we sometimes found her on the other side of the bed compared to where she fell asleep.

I can't find the words to express how proud I was of her at that moment and I felt like crying and hugging her and telling her that she's the best but I had to be patient like she was with the kneazle and do that later. If nothing else her behavior proved to me that she was ready to have a pet.

The kneazle took another step forward and extended his paw toward Aoede. She carefully moved her right arm and placed her hand over his paw. The creature purred and jumped in Aoede's arms.

“Oh, how wonderful!” Mary clapped excitedly.

Andrei looked almost as proud as I did and I caught myself observing the scene with my mouth open.

“Yeah...wonderful.” I turned to Nova who was sobbing and brushing away her tears.

“Oh, you ale so pletty! Look at youl ful and colols and oh,” Aoede gasped, “look at youl eal!”

“That's Tentacula's work.” Mary shook her head.

“He is pelfect!” Aoede turned around to see our reaction.

“I think he likes you, Pumpkin.” I sent her a wink.

“Mhm,” Nova mumbled, looking ever so proud.

“He's all yours, Aoede.” Mary walked to her and put her hand on her shoulder.

“I have to ask mummy and daddy filst.” Aoede gently hugged the kneazle and placed him on the ground so she could stand up.

“Can we have him, dad?” Aoede stopped in front of me, looking up and waiting for my answer.

I turned my head to Nova to see what she has to say about it. She nodded her head slightly and I bent down to our daughter.

“We can have him.”

“What is his name?” Aoede asked all of a sudden as if she has just remembered she doesn't know his name yet.

“I didn't name him for some reason. I just kept calling him sweetness, so the honor is all yours.” Mary smiled at her.

“Oh!” Aoede's eyes sparkled as she was thinking of the name. “Tigel!”

“Tiger?” Nova, Andrei, and I said at the same time.

“Tigel,” Aoede repeated.

“You're going to name a creature after another creature?” I raised my eyebrow.

“You're the one to talk!” Nova laughed. “Have you forgotten that you named an abraxan at my aunt's Dragon?” She nudged me with her elbow.

“Touché. I completely forgot about that.” I felt the heat on my cheeks as I scratched the back of my head.

—

“Another thing she has after you.” Nova giggled.

“And what's that?” I put my arm around her waist as we walked toward our house.

Andrei was helping Aoede carry Tiger and all the supplies Mary gave us for him.

“She is as bad at naming creatures as you are.” Nova pressed more into me, while I just playfully rolled my eyes.

I didn't care what she named him. Aoede had many moments so far that made me a proud father but her interaction with the kneazle beat all of those moments' arses by far and even though she probably got her intuition for animals from Nova, I was happy that she got the creature-naming after me – even though, I had to agree, not the best trait to inherit.

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