#ARTHUR GO THE FUCK BACK AND GRAB THAT BUCKET YOU BASTARD

[shuttlescoob]

“arthur lester is stupid and ugly and is addicted to drugs and hookers. and his daughter is dead.”

Malevolent the Stanley parable AU

"This is the story of a man named Arthur..."

"Orthur took the door on the LEFT. NO THE LEFT ORTHUR YOU FUCKING IDIOT NOT THE RIGHT!!!"

[sneakyblinders]

Another question! We’ve all seen Tommy covered in blood (and lookin’ good but shhh) how would his darling react? Shrink away in fear? Rush forward in worry & make sure he’s ok? (Please say it’s the latter, I couldn’t bear it if it’s the former)

An excerpt from a fic I am working on... inspired by this :) this may or may not make the final cut but the gist of it will be in the fic I'm working on. warnings: blood/alluding to violence.

She opened the door and held back a scream, seeing her beloved covered in blood, chest heaving.

"Thomas!" she cried as he hurried her inside the house, shutting the door behind himself. "Darling, Darling, I'm alright, I'm alright, please, please listen to me, Sweetheart," he said calmly, holding bloody hands out towards her, not walking past the rug on the front door. "Sweetheart, listen to me," he called gently. "I need you to go get me one of those paper sacks we get from the butcher, yeah? And run a bath, please. Please, love," he says, trying desperately to calm his breathing. "And make sure the fire is hot, please," he says, not moving from his post. She nods, running to do as he asks. She returns a few minutes later with the bag and he begins to strip his bloodied clothes from his body, throwing them all in the bag. "Darling!" he calls as she had ran back to grab the tub from the lean-to. "Can you bring me a rag, please? An old cleaning one will do," he says and he hears her dragging the metal tub. He promises himself one day she'll have a tub with a faucet and there will be no more dragging the fucking tub. He stood stark naked in the entryway, blood dripping from his arms as she started hauling buckets of water into the tub. He could hear her sniffling, tears mixing with his bathwater. "I don't need a lot, Darling, just enough to get this off me," he said, swallowing the lump in his throat. He knew the danger of bringing her here was this. Was that she would see his life in all its glory and all its darkness. She brings him a rag, her eyes red from tears, daring not to touch him as he towels off the dripping blood from his arms, his hands as he makes a dash over the wooden floors to the tub, sinking in, hissing at the heat.

"Thomas," she says, voice breaking through her tears as he scrubs at his face, his hair, the bastards face not leaving his mind. "Darling," he breathes, exhausted. So tired. "Not now, please," he tells her, looking up at her through wet eyelashes. She brings him a towel and sits on the loveseat opposite the fire. The water is murky and a faint pink by the time he is finished, every crevice and crack scrubbed clean of any blood, grime, muck or mire.

He gingerly steps out of the tub, toweling off before wrapping the towel around his waist. He hauls the tub to the back door and dumps the water out into the alleyway behind the house, where it will run into the drains. He returns to her and sits on the sofa next to her, his arm draped over her shoulders. "Hey," he whispers tenderly, tilting her chin up towards him. "None of this, eh?" he says, pressing a kiss to her nose. "Are you alright?" she asks, fingers running over his chest. "Never better," he tells her. "What did you do, Thomas?" she asks. He sighs, getting up from his position on the sofa and walking to where the sack of bloodied clothes lay by the front door, and throwing it into the fireplace. He resumes his position next to her on the couch, wrapping her in his arms. She leans against his chest and sighs, tears falling down her face. "He was not a good man, Darling," he said, pressing a kiss to the crown of her head. "What did he do?" she asked. He sighed. "He beat his wife and children. She lost a baby because of it," he rubbed soothing circles into her skin, pulling her closer. "Arthur used to sneak off with her when he was a teenager. He owed her a favor or two if I remember right," he said, pressing another kiss to the crown of her head. "I don't want to be afraid of you, Thomas," she whispered.

[verai-marcel]

Serendipitous Meetings (Arthur x GN!Reader, Modern AU, 18+)

Summary: You foolishly didn’t mark where you parked in the huge parking structure, and spend some time looking for your car. You run into a fellow who did the same thing, and things get ridiculously serendipitous from there.

Author’s Notes: How many tropes can I shove into this fic? Let’s face it, I just wanted to have Arthur fuck like the manly man that he is. Also going for gender neutral as much as possible, so all my readers who want a piece of Arthur can have him.

Tags: Arthur x GN!Reader, smut, light D/s tones, size kink, light spanking, neck grabbing, rough sex, dirty talk, modern AU

AO3 Link is here, li’l darlin’.

Word Count: 3764

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"Shit."

You let out a long suffering sigh as you looked around the packed parking structure. In your rush to meet your friends, you had forgotten to take a photo of where you parked. Now you stared at the large expanse of cars, racking your brain for at least a slight memory of how you got to the venue entrance from your car. 

Sticking your hand into your pocket, you gripped your phone for a moment before letting it go. You had already shooed your friends away, insisting you had parked nearby and could get to your spot no problem. Swallowing your pride, you started to search the rows for the off-white bucket of bolts you dared to call your car. 

After searching one floor, you trudged up the stairs to the next one, stopping a few steps past the landing to gaze upon the hundreds of cars before you. You faintly heard another set of steps coming down the stairwell, but you were so mired in your own despair that you didn't pay the sound any mind. 

"Shit," said a gravelly voice next to you. 

Glancing over, a very broad set of shoulders filled your view. Your eyes flicked over the red and black flannel shirt and blue jeans, with an almost hilariously large belt buckle. Then you looked up. 

Oh no. He was gorgeous, in a rugged, manly-man sort of way. That chiseled jaw, the five o’clock shadow, that thick neck… he was the kind of man who could probably pick you up and throw you over his shoulder with ease. You were so busy staring at him in tired awe that he finally noticed you.

A pair of turquoise eyes met yours. "Sorry," the man said. "Can't find my truck."

It took you half a second to remember to respond. Then you gave him an empathic half-grin. "I can't find my car either."

He pointed upstairs. "What's yer car look like? Maybe I saw it up there."

You shook your head. "It's just a generic off-white Toyota Corolla."

The man shrugged. "Oh. Well, sorry darlin', there's a bunch of those up there."

You sighed, lamenting the fact that your car was one of the most popular cars out on the road these days. You also secretly enjoyed him calling you darling with that accent of his. He sounded like he had just stepped out of a spaghetti western. 

"Maybe I saw your truck downstairs, if it stands out," you said, trying to be helpful. 

"It's a blue Chevy pick-up. Really old, like one o' them classic trucks, 'cept it ain't been cleaned up like the ones you see in a car show."

Your memory flashed with the image of a dirty blue truck in your apartment complex's garage. You stifled a laugh at the thought. You had always wondered who drove the old thing, since you had never seen its owner. 

"Nope, I didn't see a truck like that downstairs," you told him. 

"Oh. Well, guess we better start lookin'," he said. He looked at you for a moment, opened his mouth, then closed it again.

You waited.

“Maybe,” he finally said, “maybe we could look together? For a bit. Keep each other company.”

“Okay,” you said easily. Part of your brain screamed that it could be really easy for him to just pull you into his car, but you dismissed the voice in your head. He seemed alright; you had a good feeling about this guy.

The two of you took off towards the left side of the structure. Putting your remote under your chin and hoping it would actually increase its range, you hit the button on occasion. 

“Uh, what’re you doin’?” he asked, pointing at your remote.

“Oh, I read about this online, someone figured out that you can use your own head as an antenna, or something like that.”

The man raised an eyebrow, but eventually just nodded. “Huh, I guess that makes sense.”

You shrugged. “Haven’t tested it before this, so I’m hoping it actually works.”

The two of you wandered further and further towards the center when finally you heard that familiar beep. 

*BEEP BEEP*

He chuckled. “Guess it works.”

You had never been so happy to hear that annoying little buzzer of a horn. You took off at a jog without waiting for the man, going towards where you had heard the sound, and as you turned a corner, you spotted it. 

It was the big, old, blue truck from your apartment complex. 

No way, you thought. There is no way. Maybe it's a similar truck. 

Going back, you saw the man wandering around, still searching. 

"Hey Mister!" you yelled. 

He turned towards you. 

You excitedly pointed towards the truck. "This yours?" 

He started walking to you, and as he came closer, you could see the smile on his face and felt your heart skip a beat. 

"Thank you," he said, stopping in front of you. "Where’s your car?"

You grinned and hit your unlock button. The little off-white sedan next to his truck let out a little beep, the lights coming on. 

"Wish I had one of those," he said wistfully. "Sure woulda made my life easier." He looked at you with a small smirk as he opened the door to his truck. "But then I wouldn’t have met you. Thanks fer your help, angel."

You smiled, feeling your cheeks warm from his comment. "No problem." You struggled to find anything else to say, feeling pathetically desperate to hear him speak more. "Have a good night," you finally said. 

"You too," he said, his voice a little lower, a little more breathy as he hauled himself into his truck and closed the door. Now that you had a pretty good feeling that he was a decent guy and not a creep, you half-wished he really would pull you into his truck and have his way with you. 

Shaking the lewd thought from your head, you got into your car and set up your phone to listen to a podcast as you drove home. You eased your way out of the garage, through the local roads, and onto the freeway. For the next thirty minutes, you would spot the same blue truck out of the corner of your eye. Sometimes you’d pass him, sometimes he’d pass you. 

Maybe it’s a different blue truck, you tried to convince yourself.

You couldn’t convince yourself any further when you pulled into your apartment complex right behind him. He parked at his usual spot, three away from yours. Climbing out of your car, you saw him walk towards you.

“You followin’ me?” he asked gruffly, though the grin on his face clearly showed his amusement at the coincidence.

“I can’t believe we live in the same complex,” you muttered, still in shock that you had never seen this handsome man before. “How long have you lived here?”

“Oh, ‘bout two years now.”

“Shit,” you thought to yourself.

“Why’re you cursin’?”

Oh crap. You said that out loud. “I, uh, um,” you stammered.

He quietly watched you, letting you stew in your own embarrassment, an amused grin on his face. The bastard was enjoying watching you squirm!

Feeling your face heat up, you blurted out the truth.

“We could’ve known each other sooner!”

It was an unfortunate tick in your personality that you had never managed to get rid of, and now, watching his eyes widen at your embarrassing remark, you wished the sidewalk would just open up and swallow you whole. But since that wasn’t going to happen, you opted to turn around and stalk away.

“Hey now, wait, you can’t just say that and leave,” the man said, jogging to catch up to you. When you wouldn’t stop walking, he swerved in front of you, forcing you to stop mere millimeters from him. You noticed how big he was, how little you were in comparison. You weren’t a small person by any means, he was just… large.

“Why’re you runnin’ away, darlin’?” he asked, his voice hushed as if he was trying to calm a wild animal. Perhaps with the way you acted, you seemed that way to him.

You took a deep breath, accidentally inhaling his scent, a mix of pine trees and a subtle hint of campfire smoke and musk that made you want to bury your face in his chest and stay there. Desire shot straight between your legs, reminding you that it had been a long time since you’d been with anyone. Letting out a shaky breath, you made the poor choice of looking up at him.

You were blinded by his kind smile and seduced by his deep voice. “Do you want to know me?” he asked quietly. 

“Yes, I do,” you answered immediately.

He pointed to his apartment. “I live there. Want to share some whiskey?"

You paused. He was a stranger. 

A stranger with beautiful eyes and the sweetest smile you had ever seen. 

You followed him willingly into his den. 

***

You blinked after he turned on the lights. When your vision cleared, your expectations were, fortunately, not met at all.

You had expected a bachelor pad with junk everywhere and clothing on the floor. What you saw was a clean and neat living room with a simple couch and a TV on top of a small entertainment center that held a few blu-rays and a blu-ray player. The short table in front of the couch had a plate on it, a smudge of ketchup and some crumbs on it, and a glass with a little bit of water left.

The man went to pick up after himself, putting the dirty dishes in the sink before going to his pantry. His kitchen looked pretty bare, except for the dried herbs, tied up in bunches under his cabinets. 

While he shuffled around bottles, you went to sit on his couch, but not before pausing for a moment to look through the door to his bedroom. He had a bed that looked big and comfy, his sheets somewhat askew but otherwise in place. Didn’t look like there were any clothes or boxes lying around anywhere. So either the man was tidy, or he didn’t own a lot of things.

“Curious li’l one, ain’tcha?” he chuckled behind you.

Spinning around, you could only give him a sheepish grin. “Yup, sorry. I couldn’t help myself.”

He smiled and gave you a tumbler of amber liquid with a giant sphere of ice. “Curiosity like that could get you in trouble one day,” he said mysteriously, gesturing towards the couch.

You raised an eyebrow, but sat down anyway. You took a sip of the ice cold whiskey, enjoying its slow burn down your throat. It was smooth and sweet. “This is fantastic, what is it?”

“It’s a blackberry flavored whiskey,” he replied as he settled himself on the couch, a little closer to you than you had expected. “I thought you might like it.”

“Oh?” You leaned in a little closer. “And why is that?”

“Somethin’ a li’l sweet fer a li’l sweetheart,” he said with a grin. He knew he was being schmaltzy, but you didn’t care. You were eating up his words, spoken with that deep rumble that went right between your legs.

You continued to sip and make small talk with him until your ice had melted and the late night had become the witching hour. But he didn’t seem to mind, and you wanted to stay.

“You got a bit o’ whiskey here,” he said as he leaned in and reached for the corner of your lips, his thumb catching the drop that had escaped your last sip. You flicked out your tongue to catch him, and your eyes met. A heartbeat passed. The whiskey gave you strength.

Taking his hand in yours, you surged forward and kissed his lips, tasting whiskey and his woodsy scent. A low moan came from deep within him, but he did not reach for you. His hands gripped the cushions as he let you take the lead, climbing into his lap and wrapping your arms around him, your fingers kneading his broad shoulders. You kissed the breath from him, desperate to feel him against you.

When you finally broke away for air, you stared at his eyes, now filled with lust and longing, and realized you didn’t even know his name. 

He came to the same conclusion. “What’s yer name, darlin’?”

You told him.

He nodded and repeated your name. It sounded so good when he said it. “Feels nice to say it out loud,” he said. “I’m Arthur,” he added as he wrapped his arms around you and held you tenderly. “How far do you want to go?”

“All the way,” you said, grinding your hips against his groin, making him take a shuddered breath.

Without a word, he picked you up and carried you to his big, comfy bed. He dropped you unceremoniously and took off his shirt.

He was ripped. He was built like a man who had worked all his life in a physical job, carrying & lifting. With his tall stature, his broad shoulders, and his huge arms, he made you feel small.

You had never been more aroused in your whole life. 

Your body was ready to be thoroughly fucked by this man, and you hadn’t even taken your clothes off yet. You watched hungrily as he undid his belt and dropped his jeans & boxers, your eyes taking in his size. He wasn’t even at full mast yet, and you already wondered if you’d be able to take him all in.

“Your turn, darlin’.”

Taken out of your trance, you took off your clothes as he watched. You started at a normal pace, but when you saw him take himself in his hand and stroke himself while watching you with a lustful gaze, you slowed down, making an attempt to tease him. Already topless, you lay back on the bed and lifted your legs up, sliding your pants upwards. Slowly, you exposed your ass to him, winking salaciously.

He stroked himself a little faster. A soft moan escaped his lips. “Darlin’, yer makin’ it real hard fer me to stay in control here.”

You glanced down at him. “I can see it’s real hard,” you said with a playful smirk.

“Oh, yer goin’ ta get it now,” he said, his grin becoming predatory as he climbed onto the bed. Grabbing the rest of your clothes, he pulled them from you, flinging them over his shoulder before flipping you onto your belly. He gripped your ass and squeezed hard before giving you a firm spank.

“Ooh!” you yelped. 

“You want more?” he asked as his hand soothed over his mark.

You could tell he was asking for permission. Turning back to him, you gave him your best pouty face. “Does Sir think I need more?”

Arthur looked immensely pleased with your response. “I think so,” he said, his voice deepening with a thread of command that turned you on beyond belief. He straddled your legs and rested one hand on the curve of your ass. “I told you, curiosity would get you in trouble.”

He spanked you hard once more. “That’s fer sneakin’ glances into my room,” he said. He gave you three more swipes, each in slightly different areas so you wouldn’t get too sore. Then he grabbed your ass with both hands and massaged your muscles, spreading you open as he thrust his cock along the cleft of your rear.

“Yer so obedient, sweetheart,” he murmured as his hips rocked, his eyes fluttering shut for a few moments. Then with his strong grip, he manhandled you onto your back, wrapping his big hands around you and pulling you into his arms. He cradled you for a sweet, gentle moment before rolling you around like you were as light as a pillow before setting you back down onto the mattress. He leaned over you as he reached for the nightstand, pulling out a condom. You watched him slip it on, but he didn’t move to enter you. Instead, he reached down and began to stroke you as he loomed above, watching your reactions.

You moaned and writhed under his deliberate exploration. His hands traveled languidly along every inch of you. When he found a sensitive area that elicited a soft noise of pleasure from you, he lingered, making you whimper and lean into his touch. He finally touched you lower, where you longed for his attention, but to your frustration he continued his study at the same leisurely pace. Soon his strokes became faster and he pressed harder against you. His eyes nearly glowed as he watched you lift your hips towards his hands, imploring him for more. Using his new knowledge to his advantage, he brought you to the brink and then shifted his touch elsewhere, making you cool off before working you back up again until you were going insane with need.

“Please, please Arthur, I need to come,” you begged.

He only smiled as he slipped a finger inside of you. He slowly worked you open enough for two of his fingers, then three. Soon he was dragging you to the edge again, and you hadn’t even had his cock. You were feeling like you were being denied the thing you wanted most.

“Arthur,” you whispered, “I want your cock.”

“Louder, darlin’.”

“I want your cock!”

“And what do you want me to do with it?”

“Fuck me!”

“Say it again. All of it.”

“Fuck me with your cock!”

His smile was wolfish, satisfied that he had heard you beg for your desire. Pressing the head of his shaft against your opening, he pushed, easing his way inside of you.

You were right. He was big, long, and oh so thick. He stretched you deliciously, and you keened softly as he took you, claimed you, made you his in the most carnal of ways. He reached up and slipped his hand under your head, gripping your hair at the base and pulling slightly. 

“Eyes on me, darlin’. I want to see you while I’m takin’ you,” he murmured.

You couldn’t look away from him. His look was intense, as if he commanded your entire being, your body his to use for his pleasure. And you willingly gave it to him, letting him sheathe his entire length inside of you. He held you still while your body adjusted to his claim, watching you with an almost proud expression.

“Good li’l darlin’,” he said as he leaned over. He kissed you gently on the lips, then on the forehead, and as if he was overcome with affection for you, peppered kisses along the curve of your cheek and down your neck.

“I’m goin’ to fuck you now,” he whispered into your ear. “You tell me to slow if it’s too much for ya, alright?”

You nodded, sure that whatever he was about to do to you, you could handle it.

He lifted himself up onto his forearms, his hands framing your face. “You look so damn cute,” he murmured before his hips slowly pulled back. “So fuckable.”

Arthur slammed his cock deep inside of you with one forceful stroke. He immediately looked down at you when you let out a cry of surprise. He waited, quietly checking in.

“More,” you whispered.

You thought you saw relief cross his features before he gave you a teasing smirk. “Ask me nicely and I just might give it to ya.”

“Please sir,” you begged, “I need more.”

Arthur gave you a single nod before rocking his hips, building you up slowly, his gaze nearly burning a hole into you with their intensity. As your body stretched and accommodated him, you clawed at his arms, greedily clamoring for him to speed up. He let out a feral growl before wrapping a big, rough hand around your neck, his other hand gripping your leg and spreading you wider for him. 

"You think you can take more, darlin'?" 

You looked up at him and smiled a challenge. 

He began a ferocious pace, angling himself to take you as deep as he could go. All you could focus on was the impact of his body against yours, his thick shaft filling you over and over, unrelenting as a tidal wave.

Soon he let go of your neck so he could sit up and grip your hips with both of his hands. He was fucking the breath out of you with each hard thrust, the sound of his hips slamming against yours filling the room with a lewd rhythm, intertwined with your breathy cries and his low moans of pleasure.

He reached down and stroked you, his touch rough and vigorous, matching the way he was ravaging you in a haze of lust. You could feel yourself sprinting towards that delicious finish line. The end was in sight as your hips jerked wildly, your legs wrapping around Arthur as he thrust even harder and deeper than before. 

"Come fer me," he murmured. "I want to feel you lose yerself around my cock."

You screamed as his words broke the dam that was holding back a torrent of pleasure, your climax tearing through your body at breakneck speed. Your legs stiffened, your toes curled, and your fingers dug into his very muscled biceps as you came harder than you ever had. You shook with aftershocks as Arthur continued to thrust, his hands letting go of your hips as he fell upon his forearms, caging you in as he chased his pleasure. 

"Fuck sweetheart, I'm comin'," he moaned before he buried his head into the crook of your neck. He gave three more erratic thrusts, then nearly crushed you with his weight as he pressed his hips against yours, keeping himself inside of you for as long as he could. 

A breathless moment passed, the two of you trying to catch that elusive breath. Arthur rolled off of you, quickly gathering you into his arms as he tumbled onto his side. 

"Goddamn," he finally muttered. "Wasn't expectin' to have such good company."

You turned in his arms so you could see the wide grin on his face. "For once, I'm glad I got lost in the parking lot."

He kissed your forehead. "Me too, darlin'. But let's make sure we don't get lost again." He found your hands under the covers, brought them up to his lips, and kissed your fingertips. 

"After all, I only just found you, my li'l darlin'."

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End Notes: Been a while, and of course, all of my pent-up lust just came streaming out of me in a flurry of words and phrases. Hope it’s still hot enough for you, my lovely readers!

[rainydayhogwartsimagines]

Whoops.

(Draco!Healer x reader!teacher)

Note: I am writing way too much about Draco, damn

Summary: Draco is a healer for Hogwarts, his best friend is a teacher and the students have seemed to notice a possible romance in the works

Warnings: Fluff, injuries, swearing, and yes you are shirtless in a scene or two, the phrase "eye shagging"

You stood beside your desk. "So in summary, no Gaston, you can not use that in a potion because it'd explode." You laughed out. The students all chuckled. "Ma'am.. i cut myself on my beaker can I go get a bandage?" A student asked. You rose a brow. "There's a broken beaker?" You asked. "Yeah, Gaston kind of used eye of newt when your back was turned." The student said. "...Great. Gaston, fifteen points from Gryffindor, miss Weasley get a band aid out of my top desk, class dismissed." You said with a small sigh. You got a bucket and picked up the broken glass. "Miss Weasley, class is--" "I know. But dad would kill me if I didn't help." She said. You chuckled. "I'm sure George wouldn't." You said, picking up shards of glass from the floor. You however picked up the shard the wrong way, cutting your palm. "Shit!" You hissed. "Oh no! Do I need to get a bandage--" "I'm a afraid a bandaid won't fix this." You laughed. "Thank you dear, you should get to class. I got lucky that I don't have students this hour." You assured. She nodded and left, leaving the small mess of glass. You cleaned it up, walking to Madame Pomfrey. "Oh dear, what happened to your hand!?" She asked. "Gaston Burkley decided eye of newt looked fantastic in a antidote for common poisons." You explained. "Goodness that boy loves to cause trouble." She huffed. "Draco will tend to you." She said. "Wait did you say--" A head popped out from a curtain. "Hello there." He greeted with a smile. You smirked. "So when you said 'I got a new job' this is what you meant?" You asked. He chuckled. "Yes." He nodded walking over to you. "Holy crap what happened to your hand?" He asked looking down at it. "A kid decided to add eye of newt to a potion that did not require eye of newt." You said. He chuckled and asked you to sit down. You sat in a seat and he pulled a stool forward, grabbing disinfectant, tweezers and a bandage. He pulled your hand forward. "How big was this shard of glass?" He asked. "Well it was a big beaker so-- Ow!" You winced. "Focus on the questions Y/n." He said. "So you became a potions teacher." He said. "And you became-- Ow-- a pain in my arse apparently." You winced. He chuckled. "After the battle I wanted to help people. I decided medicine was the best way." He said. You smiled. "You always were so kind for someone who pretended to be such a dick." You teased. "I only showed that side to you though." He chuckled. You looked up at him. "We were really close weren't we?" You asked. He smiled looking up. "You were the reason I stayed with the students." He said softly. You felt your cheeks heat up. During the battle his father was so determined to get his son to be a deatheater and side with Voldemort. But the moment he even shifted you just took Draco's hand and he didn't budge. Knowing you were the whole reason he stayed... Really changed the atmosphere of the room.

He cleared his throat, looking down at your hand. "I don't think you'll need stitches but it will definitely scar." He said. "there goes my options of being a hand model." You joked. He chuckled. "I mean you have another hand" he teased. "True true. I think I'll stick to teaching though." You said. "I'm going to warn you this is going to burn." He warned. "I'm sure it's not that bad-- OW HOLY CRAP WHAT DID YOU DO, LIGHT IT ON FIRE!?" You winced. He tried not to laugh, ultimately failing and almost going red. You frowned, almost pouting at him. "Ass." You said making him laugh. "Forgive me but when you said 'I'm sure I can handle it' followed by the equivalent of 'No I can't' I can't help but laugh at that." He laughed out. "He's lucky he's cute. Bastard." You thought internally. He wrapped your hand. "Come to me if you need anything else okay?" He said. You nodded and returned to your classroom.

Class the next day was odd, to say the least. A student's wand seemed to be on the fritz. "What in the bloody blazes is--" "DUCK!" a student yelled. You ducked in time to avoid a bolt. "someone hexed his wand!" A student concluded. "Lily, go get the defense teacher-- Crap!" You dodged. You sighed in relief, narrowly avoiding a spark until "MISS Y/N LOOK OUT--"

You didn't exactly miss that last one. The defense teacher found you on the floor with a gouge in your chest. "Goodness! What happened?" She asked. "Someone hexed Francis' wand!" A student ducked under a desk answered. After removing the hex, she brought you to the wing. "Oh my goodness-- Draco!" Madame Pomfrey called. Draco walked out and saw you, his heart dropping as he did. "What happened!?" He asked. "A student's wand was hexed, tell me she's going to be fine." The teacher said. Draco pushed aside the uncomfortable feeling from removing your shirt and looked at the wound. "It's going to require stitched but I think she'll be fine." Pomfrey concluded. Mcgonagall ran in. "I heard a teacher was injured." She said. Draco was stitching you up, best to his abilities. "Goodness gracious these students will quite literally be the death of us." She sighed. Students were outside of the wing, catching Mcgonagall off guard. "Is she going to be alright?" A student asked. "she'll be fine--" "Who did this?" Mcgonagall asked. Everyone turned to Gaston. "Detention. You're lucky I don't expell you either." She said sharply. "Yes Headmaster." He sighed.

You were out like a light for a few days, Draco sitting by you any free time he had. Occasionally students would visit to see if you were okay, and maybe see the cute medic, but would leave after a few minutes.

You finally woke up though, wincing as you leaned up. "What in the bloody hell happened?" Your first words were. Draco resisted a snort. "That Berkely kid loves to cause trouble." Draco answered. You chuckled. "Ah. Reminds me of--" "Fred and George" both of you said before laughing. "How are those two?" Draco asked. "Mmm. Well I have to deal with the WONDERFUL offspring who clearly get merchandise from their shop." You answered. "How is... All of them?" Draco asked. You smiled. "They're good. Ron and Hermione had a nice wedding. Harry and Ginny did too." You said. "Ah." Draco nodded. "they've asked about you." You said as Draco grabbed antiseptic. He rose a brow turning around. "They have?" He asked. "mmm hmm." You nodded. "Molly says she's sent you sweaters..." You said. He chuckled and nodded. "How in the blazes did that woman even get my measurement.... y/n did you give her my measurements?" He asked making you chuckle. "Mayyyybbbeee." You said. He rolled his eyes. "I'm surprised they would even want to know about me after..." He shook his head. "You saved Fred's life. Molly would never forget something like that." You said. "I blasted a rock." He said. "You saved him." You corrected. Draco looked at you with a bandage in hand. "I'll write to her then..." Draco said with a small smile. "Is this the burning stuff?" You asked. "Sadly, yes." He said. "You must hate me. You've got to, to be using that." You groaned. He rolled his eyes. "Y/n I need you to remove your shirt." He said. You sighed unbuttoning it. "So did never got married?" You asked catching Draco off guard. "Uhm... No. No I didn't." He answered. "Huh." You said. Hermione would never let you here the end of this one. He applied the antiseptic and you winced. "Fucking hell." You groaned. Yep. That's definitely proof you never changed. You always had such a strong mouth. Strong will to back that up too. You leaned forward, allowing Draco to apply the bandages. "Thank you Draco." You said sincerely. He smiled. "You're welcome Y/n." He said. "Uhhh Mister Malfoy, Wesley fell off his broom again." A student called. "Again? Jesus how directionally challenged is this kid?" Draco asked making you laugh.

You went back to teaching, coming in during your breaks to change the bandages and catch up. However your wounds were almost healed and you were now just taking potions prescribed by Draco. Draco knocked on the door frame and you turned around. "It's that time already?" You groaned. "Afraid so." He said. "This stuff tastes like piss." You groaned as he handed you a glass. The students laughed. "You still don't have a filter, even with your students." He chuckled. "Draco, when have I ever?" You asked. "How long have you two known each other?" A student asked. Both of you pondered. "Way too long." You chuckled before drinking it. You coughed and gagged. "Seriously? Whoever designed that must have dead taste buds." You said. He laughed and you smiled. A student's nose began to bleed and he walked over, helping them. "Allergies?" You asked the kid. "I hate them." She grumbled. You smiled and sighed, turning back to write on the board. "At least you get more time with mister Malfoy though." The student said making both of you freeze in place. "What was that?" You asked turning back around. "We've all noticed it, the whole heart eyes, puppy love look you two give each other." A student said. You shook your head, picking up a bottled water and sipping it to get rid of the medicine's taste. "Please, they're practically shagging each other with their eyes." Fred's son, Arthur declared making you cough up the water and Draco turn crimson. "Weasley!" A student scolded. "Those were my Dad's words when describing those two! He said ever since third year the two of them were always looking at each other that way." He said. Draco chuckled. "Of course Fred did." Draco muttered, mentally punching Fred in his mind. "Seriously though, it is obvious that you two are in love." Another student said. "We aren't--" "No we aren't--" "That's--" you both stuttered over every word. "See, you can't even lie about it." Arthur said. You blushed and turned back to the board. "Wait your dad knew them in their third year?" A student asked. "Mister Malfoy saved my dad's life in the battle of hogwarts." Arthur answered. A bunch of students let out "Woahs" and "oohs" but you snorted. "Told you he held you in high regard!" You said to Draco. "Oh sod off." Draco laughed.

"My nose is still not letting up, am I dying?" The student asked. "You're not dying, you might've scratched the inside of it though" Draco said turning back to the student. "Miss Y/n also comes over for all of the holidays and talks a lot about Mister Malfoy too." Arthur said making you snap the chalk with how hard you bared down on it. "Can we please change the subject Arthur!?" You asked. "Yes ma'am." He laughed out. Draco smiled to himself but noticed you didn't ask them to stop talking. You actually would chime in on the personal conversation occasionally as you wrote. "Wait so you knew the Auror Harry?" A student asked. "The Potters go here dude, this isn't new." A student replied. "Yeah but still." They said. "We both knew him." Draco said, cleaning up the remnants of the nosebleed. "My mum knew you too. Said something about punching you in your third year" the student said making you snort. "Is your mother Hermione?" He asked. "Yes." The girl nodded. "That's true." Draco said making the students laugh. "Let's not forget he was a good quidditch player too." You reminded. "Not as good as you were." Draco corrected. "Draco, you could've been in the big leagues if you wanted." You said. "You're the one that managed to trigger a sonic boom while flying." Draco reminded. "You both played quidditch?" A student asked. "Yes. Draco had won most of the matches he was in." You said. "Aside from you and--" you both mimicked the voice Draco would use when talking about Harry "Potter." You both said making the students laugh.

"Do you like teaching instead miss Y/n?" A student asked. You turned around, a sincere smile as you faced the class. "I wouldn't trade this for the world." You said. Draco's heart skipped a beat looking at your happy expression. "It is strange teaching my friends' children though." You added making the students laugh. Draco smiled at that and a student noticed his look. "Was it fun going to school with our parents?" Another student asked. "Oh most definitely. Especially Arthur and Bill's parents. Those two were insane." You laughed. "Oh are you referring to the underground business they ran or the explosives they set off to anger Umbridge?" Draco asked. "Wait what?" A student asked. "Oh yeah, that was a fun day wasn't it?" You laughed. "Fun? It was fantastic." He said. He shook his head "But nothing will ever beat--" "Hogsmeade." Both of you said. You both exchanged looks and the students all felt the tension between you two. "They're doing that thing again." A student whispered. "Oh you mean SHAGGING WITH THEIR EYES!?" Arthur yelled making both of you dissolve into laughter along with the students. "I should go, sorry for disturbing your class." Draco said. "Bye Draco." You waved. He left and you shook your head.

"You so take after your father." You said to Arthur. "We were serious about you and Mister Malfoy though!" A student said. "you two would be perfect for each other Miss Y/n!" Another agreed. "Goodness knows he's in love at least." Another student said. You shook your head with a small smile. "what on earth would make you think that?" You asked. "Maybe the fact that while you were asleep he never left your side. Or the fact that you're with him everytime you're given a break. Or as Arthur said 'the eye shagging of a lifetime'." The student declared. "Oh won't you admit it Miss Y/n? At least say he's attractive!" A student begged. "Don't you guys have anything better to do than gossip over faculty members?" You groaned. "The student's drama is so DULL. This is the highlight of the year! Give us something! Pleassee!" A student begged. You sighed turning back to the board making the students groan. "He's cute." You said making the students roar with delight.

That day was so tiring. You walked into the medic wing and he looked up. "Hey you." He said with a smile. "Hi. I'm exhausted." You said, face planting onto an empty bed. He laughed. "Students tired you out?" He asked. "Oh God. Do not remind me of those little mongrels." You groaned. He shook his head with a smile. "they seemed fixated on me and you" he said. "Oh they love to talk." You chuckled. "One of the students came for their medication earlier." He said grabbing something. "Oh?" You asked. "they said that you concluded that I was 'Cute'." He said with a teasing smile. Snitch. Thar kid was a little snitch.

You rolled your eyes. "These students will be the death of me." You groaned. Draco noticed your avoidance around your answer. "Did you actually call me cute?" He asked, a smirk coming to play on his lips. "I'm not answering that." You laughed out. "Hmm. I'm thinking I know the answer now." He said. You rolled your eyes. "Yes Draco I called you cute." You finally answered. He shook his head with a chuckle.

The two of you never brought it up again until the next time he came with that disgusting medicine. "Oh yay! Poison!" You said. "Y/n you act like a child when it comes to this." Draco said. The students laughed at the banter. You drank it, again, gagging as you did. "It tastes like tar." You wheezed making him laugh. He handed you a bottle of water and you took it. "So did you two talk?" A student asked. "Yes, Madi he's aware of what I said." You said with an eye roll. Draco shook his head, walking towards the door. "No I mean about what he said about you." She said. You looked up with a brow raised. "What?" You asked. "Uhhh..." Draco didn't move, why wouldn't he move. "He said he regretted not telling you something in your forth year." The student said. "Oh?" You asked noticing the nervous look on Draco's face. Arthur leaned off of his hand, perking up like a dog. The students were all hushed. "Draco, care to comment?" You asked. He took his hand off the handle and turned back. "I'm not saying this in front of your students." He declared. "Saying what Draco?" You asked. "Nice try." He said with an eye roll. "You're dancing around the subject." You said stepping towards him. "Maybe I am." He admitted. "Maybe? Sorry do you need tap shoes for the way you're dancing right now?" You asked. He sighed. "What are they talking about?" You asked again, still walking towards him. "It's nothing." He lied. "Draco if it were nothing you would've told me by now." You said. The students were all watching intently. "What are they talking about?" You asked, looking straight into his eyes and he cracked. "That I've been in love with you since our fourth year and I haven't said anything because I didn't know if you felt the same." He said. You blinked and the room was so quiet you could hear a pin drop. ".... Draco..." You said, standing so close to him that he could feel your breath. "I never said anything because I didn't know if you felt the same way either." You admitted making everyone almost gasp. He looked into your eyes, cupping your face and kissing you making the entire class cheer. "IT'S ABOUT TIME!" Arthur yelled. You both smiled against each other's lips. "We're never hearing the end of this are we?" Draco asked. "Hell no." You said making him laugh and kiss you again.

You were the talk of everyone's morning for a while and that spark definitely turned into a flame after you two got engaged. Best part: it happened during class. Draco would sit in the back of your classroom watching you teach, occasionally answering kid's questions about what their parents were like in school. He was sitting there watching you and you were laughing at someone's joke. "You two seem so in love." A student said. "We are." You both said, smiles as you answered. "Thanks to us!" Arthur said. "Yes, you and your wonderful 'eye shagging' comments just made me fall head over heels." You snorted. Draco laughed and you smiled. "Have you two thought about getting married?" Bill asked. You both froze during that question. "miss Y/n?" A student said. "Well that's uhm..." You turned back to the bored. "Have you?" Draco asked, noticing the avoidance to the question. "Everyone woman thinks about that when she's in love Draco." You concluded. "So you have?" He asked. "Yes. Have you?" You asked. He got up, walking up to you and setting something in your hand. "I don't know. Have I?" He asked. You looked at your hand to see a ring resting there and you gasped very loudly. "Oh my God Draco." You said. "Will you?" He asked. "Well you have to ask me properly!" You said, tears clouding your eyes. He chuckled, taking the ring and getting down on one knee making the students gasp. "Professor Y/n L/n. Will you marry me?" He asked. You nodded and kissed him making the entire class basically scream.

The two of you did get married, Bill and Arthur taking the credit for the two of you being together in the first place. That came back to bite them though when Fred ended up being the substitute teacher for when you went off on your honeymoon, Fred busting out baby pictures when he'd misbehave. "DAD NO--" "And here's him in his first Weasley sweater!" "DAD!"

[wouldpollyapprove]

Beer & Insults

Request: Hi! Could you write one shot/blurb with Arthur Shelby and “You’re one insult away from starting a war.”, please? I would be very grateful! Have a nice day! 💜

Requested by @lovecatystuff

Arthur Shelby x Reader

Word Count: 1.2k

Warnings: Language

A/N: This took so long to finish and I didn’t even thoroughly edit it. Oh well, I’ll do better next time. I hope you guys enjoy this, I was stuck on it for some time but I finally finished it. And since I just reached 600 followers (love you guys and all your support) I think I may write a special fic just for that. I’ve had an idea for one and probably won’t write it otherwise, so I think I’m gonna try and do that. And do you guys think this is more of a blurb or a oneshot cause I honestly don’t know.

Masterlist

After Tommy had bought the Garrison and handed it over to her husband, Y/n took it upon herself to run the place. Arthur was shit at math and knew nothing about running anything besides his mouth. So, it was up to Y/n to keep the pub running smoothly and the Shelby brothers were impressed by how well she had done it.

Walking through the front door, the brothers had to break up fewer fights. Tommy and John couldn’t understand how their sister-in-law had been able to do such a thing. Even with a woman in the room, men still acted like animals. But Arthur knew. He knew better than anyone that his wife didn’t put up with anyone’s bullshit, especially his. If there was a problem, she’d help people fix it, whether they wanted to or not. And if they wouldn’t fix it in a calm manner, there was no doubt in his mind that Y/n would kick their asses out. 

With Y/n running the place, the Garrison was starting to become the center of Small Heath and it was starting to become rare to not see the Shelby family tucked away in the private room. Arthur was there almost every day, doing whatever work he had been given and doing it in the back office. He said it was because it was his pub and he needed to keep an eye on it, but Tommy didn’t believe it as he knew how hard it was for his brother to be away from his wife. And as long as Arthur was somewhere Tommy and John could find him, no one argued when his desk at the betting shop would sit empty.

Like most days, the three brothers sat around the table in the private room. Though their name was written above the door in gold letters, everyone knew they were the only ones to sit there. What was different than the day before was the three men that sat across from them, members of a rival gang from the other side of the city. Tommy didn’t want to meet with them, neither did his brothers, but the men refused to leave without having a conversation.

“What can we do for you, gentlemen?” Tommy asked, folding his hands in his lap. 

The man in the middle shrugged, scanning the trim of the room. “How ‘bout a pint first?”

Tommy rolled his eyes as Arthur opened the window, exposing the bar, “Love,” he called, his wife flashing him a smile, which he returned. “Can ya grab us some beer?” Y/n nodded and turned to fetch the glasses and beer.

The room was silent as Y/n entered with a bucket of beer, not that she had killed any business the men were discussing. Dipping a mug in the auburn liquid, a shiver went down her spine as she felt the eyes of a predator on her. There was nothing abnormal about it, men had wondering eyes and it wasn’t the first or last time it would happen as she worked in a pub. Glancing at the men beside her, Y/n caught the eye of the one in the middle, who she assumed to be the leader of the pack, eyeing her up and down. If it weren’t for business, she would have knocked his ass out of his chair.

Licking his lips, the man said, “Bet you could show me a good time.” A sigh escaped Y/n’s lips as she placed a mug of beer in front of him, catching the death glare her husband was sending the man’s way.

“Doubt you could do the same,” she replied with a smile. It wasn’t the first time a man had tried to hit on her. Normally, those that made the mistake to do so didn’t know who she was married to and were too drunk to care. It was, for the most part, harmless and Y/n usually chuckled and walked away. The man grumbled as she continued to pass out beer, Arthur’s glare never fading. “If that’ll be it, gentlemen, I’ll be on my way,” she said, placing the last mug in front of Tommy. 

Tommy nodded, wrapping his fingers around the cold glass. “That’ll be it, thank you.”

Once Y/n was out of the room, the door shut behind her, the man started pitching a fit. It was clear to those around him that he wasn’t used to being turned down. Had the man hit on anyone else and been turned down, Arthur would have found his behavior amusing, but no one hits on his wife but him. So, there he sat, lips set in a tight line, fingers curled up in fists, blood boiling. 

“This is why we don’t step foot in Small Heath,” the man muttered. “Fucking Bitch.”

Before the last word was fully released from his lips, Arthur was on his feet, ready to lunge across the table. If his brothers were unaware of his temper, perhaps he could have got a swing in, but that was impossible when John and Tommy grabbed him. “Fuck sake, Tom-”

“Arthur, sit down,” his brother instructed as John helped to force him back into his seat. Taking his eyes off Arthur, Tommy swiftly turned to the men across from him. “You’re one insult away from starting a war, is that what you want?” The man shook his head, catching the venom in his words and the violent glint in his brother’s eyes. “That’s what I thought.” Sitting back down, Tommy said, “Now fuck off before I decide you don’t deserve to live.”

The men scurried out of the room, the knowledge of the brutal deaths others had faced by the hands of the Shelby men present in their minds. Whatever they’d come to discuss was lost to the wind.

Upon hearing rushed footsteps and the doors open and closed, Y/n abandoned the rag in her hand, someone else would finish wiping the bar down, and went to see what had caused them to leave. “I see you lot haven’t given up scaring people off,” she laughed, coming over to stand by her husband.

“Those bastards are lucky to be alive,” Arthur growled and wrapped his arms around her waist, pulling her onto his lap. She raised a brow, brushing a few loose hairs out of his face. “Talkin’ about ya like that.”

Leaning into him, Y/n nodded, a small smile dancing on her lips. She always found it adorable how protective Arthur was over her. It was a wonder he let her run the pub because if he knew half the words that hit her ears, the place would be a bloody mess and no one would dare come in. “I believe they’ve learned. Did any business get done?”

Tommy shook his head, taking a sip of his beer that had been forgotten in the exchange. “No, not that we wanted to do business with them.”

“Should’ve shot ‘em before they set foot in here.” Y/n rolled her eyes at Arthur’s words, it would be a while before he let it go. 

“That’s enough, love, they’re gone and didn’t break anything before they left,” she told him and grabbed his beer off the table. “Now, drink your beer and stop complaining.”

*~~*~~* Let me know if you would like to either tag list and feed back is always appreciated.

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Peaky Blinders: @simonsbluee

[raccoon-is-my-spirit-animal]

Finn, Alfie and the Eggs

A/N:  I love writing for Alfie because it gives me an excuse to watch ‘Alfie Solomons Best Moments’ video’s on repeat for ‘research’

Summary:  The Home Alone Peaky Blinders Series Featuring 10 y/o Finn Shelby part 2. The three daftest Shelby brothers forget their little Finn in London. Luckily for Finn, Alfie is there to save him.

part 1, part 3, part 4, part 5, part 6

Warnings: none

---

It was supposed to be a boy’s day out. Finn had looked forward to it all week. The whole day, he and his brothers would go to London, do some sightseeing, drink some whiskey (or lemon water in Finn’s case) and talk about whatever brothers talked about. In truth, Finn didn’t really know what brothers talked about. His brothers only ever talked about business, horses and alcohol. So Finn should have known better; he should have known that the moment the Shelby’s ran into a business acquaintance, his little day out would be ruined. Finn watched as his three brothers talked and talked about some race. He sat on the curb, face in hands and was deadly bored. And hungry. The moment he thought about how hungry he actually was, he smelled something delicious. Something sweet. In an instant he knew what it was: scones. He looked around and saw a bit further down the street a market. And on the right side was a little bakery. He watched as an old lady placed the golden cakes in a basket and Finn heard his tummy rumble. That’s it, he thought, if I can’t have a boy’s day out, then I can certainly have a scone. He stood up and walked to Tommy, who was still talking to the business associate. Finn grabbed his brother’s coat and softly pulled to grab Tommy’s attention. “Tommy, can I get a scone?” he whispered. Tommy tried not to notice his little brother and continued talking. Finn changes tactics. He moved to get in front of Tommy and put his arms on his hips as he had seen Aunt Polly do. “Tommy, I am going to get a scone,” he stated. Now, Tommy had to acknowledge him. “Yes, yes, fine, go ahead,” he said absently and Finn grinned. He walked around the circle to Arthur, stuck his hand in the pocket of Arthur’s coat and pulled out three coins. Finn, being a practised pickpocket, was in and out in a jiffy and Arthur would never have noticed. Happy to finally be released from the boring impromptu meeting, Finn ran across the street to the old lady and her scones. She was kind and chatty, so Finn stayed to talk while he ate his sweet. He told the lady about his day and she listened and smiled at his jokes. After half an hour and an extra free scone, Finn realised that he should be getting back. He said goodbye to the lady and ran back to Tommy, Arthur and John. But when he saw nothing but an empty street, he stopped dead in his tracks.

“Uh-oh,” he said softly. His brothers were gone. Had left without him. And had probably already gone home. As the realisation dawned on him, Finn hung his head. It was nothing new; they had forgotten him more often in the past. At the Garrison, at the church, at Uncle Charlie’s, the Garrison again, but that had all been in Birmingham and he had found his way home. But this, this was London. Finn felt giddy when he thought of the vastness of the city and he felt tears burn in his eyes. But no, he told himself, I am a Shelby, and I am not going to cry. Not even if I won’t find my way back. Not even if I have to beg for scraps and not even if I have to sleep under bridges and eat with the rats. But no matter how often he told himself not to cry, he felt a tear trickle down his cheek, and he became scared. He ran back to the market, the safest place he could think of right now. He still had two coins left, maybe he should buy something to eat now before the market would be closed. Finn nodded to himself and felt a little better having solved the problem of food for now. I need something nutritious, he thought, and his eye fell on a carton of eggs. But he had nothing to cook them with and started to walk on.

“’Ello, lad!” it suddenly sounded from behind him. Finn turned around and his breath caught in his throat. Before him stood a real-life boogieman. The man -or monster, Finn thought, - was wearing a long black coat and a white scarf. He had a wild beard and wore a big black hat and held a cane in his hand that went tap, tap, tap as the man came closer. And if Finn wasn’t frightened of the man himself, he was of the dog, which was obviously here to eat Finn alive. “Yes, you. Are ya here all by yourself, mate?” Finn’s eyes widened. He means to trick me into leaving with him so he can gobble me up in a dark corner, he thought, and he moved. His arms felt behind him and the only thing they reached was the carton of eggs. In a fight for your life, even eggs were better than nothing. “You won’t eat me!” Finn screamed and threw an egg at the monster. It flew with a perfect arc through the air and Finn followed it with his eyes. Then the egg hit the black coat of the man and cracked open. The egg yolk slowly dripped down and left a yellow stain. The man was absolutely stupefied and stared with big eyes at his coat. Then he lifted his head and narrowed his eyes. “Fucking ‘ell, you are certainly a Shelby,” he said. In Finn’s head all the alarms bells went off. He knows my name, he thought and panicked. “Get away!” he yelled and threw one, two, three more eggs at the stranger. The first one missed, the second hit the monster’s boot and the third one knocked the hat right off the man’s head. The man ducked under the rain of eggs and yelled: “Get him, Cyril!” and let go of the dog leash. The dog ran and leapt towards Finn, who was paralysed with fear. He closed his eyes; this is it, he thought and prepared for the worst. But instead, he only felt a soft, wet tongue on his face. He opened his eyes and noticed the dog was wagging his tail and pushing his muzzle in Finn’s hand, eager to get a rub behind the ears. Finn, bewildered, obeyed and stroked the dog. “You, laddie, got one ‘ell of an aim, that’s for sure.” Finn looked up and saw the man stand next to his dog. “You Shelby’s certainly know how to put up a show, hmm? You’re just like that brother of yours.” “Tommy?” Finn said surprised. “Oh yeah, I’m a—well, let’s call it a friend, I am a friend of Tommy’s and you must be Finn.” Finn nodded. The man seemed to be friendly enough and he knew Finn’s brother. Moreover, Finn had heard Tommy speak about one Alfie Solomons in London, who spoke with a funny accent and owned a dog. It all seemed to work out and Finn decided to trust the man in front of him. “Yeah, I’m Finn,” he admitted, “I was in London with my brothers but they forgot me and left here.” Alfie raised his eyebrows. “They forgot you, eh?” he asked in disbelief, “some brothers you’ve got.” Finn merely shrugged. “All I wanted was a scone,” he said softly. Alfie stood up and patted him on the shoulder “Right, then. Scones you say? Well, you’re in luck, mate. You see, I own a bakery.”

 After a short walk, Alfie and Finn arrived at said ‘bakery’. Finn had let go of all suspicions and had talked about all sorts of things on the way. He told Alfie about the time he had collected all the King’s pictures, which they had burned, and of the time he had nicked John’s gun, although he left out the part where he got a beating from Aunt Polly because of it. In Alfie, Finn found a patient and willing audience. Alfie let Finn hold Cyril’s leash and the boy and the dog had become best friends by the time they entered Alfie’s workshop. Alfie quickly told Ollie to ring ‘this boys fucking no-good brothers’ to tell them ‘they could collect their fucking stray’. When Alfie returned to Finn, the boy pointed to a handyman who was busy with the lock on the door. “What happened?” the boy asked. “Oh yeah, we had a fucking break-in last weekend. Some bastard thought he could just barge in and steal all our—” he stopped and glanced sideways at the boy. “—bread,” he finished. Finn nodded as if he understood. Then he asked, “don’t you have booby traps here for the thieves?” Alfie tilted his head, “Booby traps? What the ‘ell would we need booby traps here for?”

Finn’s face split open in a smile. “Well, some time ago, me and a friend were alone in the shop when two woppers came in, right.” Alfie raised his one eyebrow at the word ‘woppers’ but didn’t say anything. Finn continued speaking and told Alfie all about his episode with the Italians, the maple syrup and the feathers. “—and now if anybody sees them woppers walking in the streets they all laugh and point and say: ‘there are those ugly birds again!’.” “Well,” Alfie said after Finn had finished, “that is just bloody brilliant. Very effective indeed.” The man stroked his beard and made a decision. “Right then, lad, show me where we can plant these booby traps.” And for the next two hours, the workers in the shop saw how a 10-year-old boy pointed to doorposts, talked about tripwires, alarm bells, buckets filled with jelly that would fall on the thief’s head and saw how their ruthless boss and gang leader absorbed all the booby-trap-information like a sponge. Alfie even ordered for Ollie to grab a paper and pen and mark this all down, because ‘this bloody stuff might actually work, hmm?”

By the time Tommy burst into the shop to get his brother, Finn had fallen asleep on the sofa in Alfie’s office. Tommy exhaled in relief when he saw the curled-up shape of his little brother sleeping and he walked over to the couch. Gently, he brushed Finn’s hair out of his face. “Sorry, Finn,” Tommy whispered and bend over to pick him up. Finn woke up for a moment. “You owe me a hundred scones, Tom,” he mumbled before he continued to sleep on his big brother’s shoulder. “That I do,” Tommy answered, and he turned to Alfie. “Thank you for looking after him,” he simply said. Alfie nodded, “Of course, mate.” But then he added something. “But don’t you fucking lose him again in London. Because next time, I’ll keep him.”

Taglist: @caelys :D