#arthur christmas x reader

[pacifymebby]

Christmas Eve

Part of my Christmas/2k celebration!!

Also just a side note for Alfie's, I based this on Christmas/Hanukkah celebrations I've been involved in before, I'm sorry if it's not accurate to other people's personal experiences of like mixed culture it's just how it's worked for us in the past... I didn't want to just ignore Alfie's Jewishness

Tommy

🌿Beneath Tommy's cold exterior is a family man, he's just very good at keeping it hidden beneath all those defensive layers... And he believes Christmas is a precious time, a time that should be spent with family... 

🌿And as much as he grumbles about having to host his whole family every year at Arrow House, Tommy wouldn't have it any other way...

🌿So Christmas Eve at Arrow House is a busy day, a day brimming with anticipation, that buzz in the air, expectancy, waiting for loved ones to arrive, the children excited to see their cousins, uncles, aunts...

🌿 And amid the hustle and bustle, the trickle of arriving guests who have come to stay for the holidays, Tommy will manage to slip away unnoticed for a little while... he'd have business to attend to, things he just has to see through before the new year...

🌿 And whilst in the morning his absence is excusable, and whilst in the afternoon you're far to wrapped up in overseeing the last minute changes to menus, to guest bedrooms, to present wrapping and attending to the needs of your excitable little ones, as the evening draws in Tommy's absence will become unignorable...

🌿 But you're not surprised and neither is Ada, neither are any of the wives, neither is Arthur who is supposed to be dressing up as Santa for the youngens but is waiting for his absent brother to phone through...

🌿 Tommy promised to be home early for the kids so you're getting worried. Ada is all eye rolls and Polly is tutting "that fuckin man and his fuckin business..." but you're getting scared that he isn't coming home at all...

🌿 Now the kids are obviously very excited because its christmas eve, so you haven't been able to settle them at all...

🌿 They're running around the house with their cousins playing at being daddy, pretending to shoot eachother, pretending to die and although usually you'd tell them off, try to tell them that thats not what their daddy does, tonight their laughter is so sweet you just let them carry on playing

🌿And their excitement is catching, it's hard to be too fearful when the tree is sparkling and there's frost in the air outside, when Ada and Polly have mixed up fancy gin cocktails and John keeps catching you beneath the mistletoe teasing you, telling you to take your chance whilst your husband's away...

🌿 There's that joy, that magic, that warmth, the family is together, the children are as innocent and as gleeful as you could possibly hope them to be... And in your heart you know that your stupid husbands coming home to you, that all will be well...

🌿 So even though you should be mad at him for breaking his promise and being late really you're just looking forward to him coming home, to throwing your arms around him, to having him catch you under the mistletoe and brush a chaste kiss over your lips before the kids can see you and start making sick noises.

🌿And when Tommy does finally come home the children nearly knock him over, barrelling into him. Your oldest pretends to shoot him for being late and breaking his promise...

🌿 So Tommy pretends he's shot, drops to his knees all dramatic in the doorway, his 'last words' tell your mother I love her very..." and when he closes his eyes and pretends to die the kids all clamber on him and demand that he wakes up... and he does but only because they're tickling him and he can't resist jumping back to life, snatching them up and making them jump and squeal and laugh.

🌿 finally they and him settle down, he says hes sorry for being late, hugs and kisses the children and then you, saying he's sorry an extra time, just to you, hand cupping your cheek as he looks you deep in the eyes, one of those, melt your heart, don't be angry with me, kind of looks

🌿And you can't be angry at him...

🌿He'd be able to settle the children so fast, getting them ready for bed with you and tucking them in. Telling them to be good or father christmas might change his mind about visiting them

🌿 But then seeing their little faces drop and chuckling, "no, of course he won't forget about you, little angels the lot of you, I reckon you're all right at the top of Father Christmas' list eh?"

🌿 "So we'd better get you up to bed eh? He'll be here soon and you'll want to be fast asleep in your beds when he gets here..."

🌿 As you go to follow the children up to the nursery Tommy catches your hand and tugs you back to the doorway, "and where do you think you're going in such a hurry love?" His fingers link closely with yours as he nods to the doorframe above you both, his smirk a little cheeky as you follow his gaze and see the mistletoe dangling above you...

🌿 When you tell him he isn't the first person to try it on with you under the mistletoe that evening, that if he'd been just one more minute late you'd have kissed his brother instead, he chuckles, "well I suppose I'd better make up for all that lost time eh?"

🌿 Closing your eyes when he kisses you, smiling into his lips as he lets them linger, your hand on his chest, you can feel his body heat warming you, his hold feels like home... When you pull away startled by the sound of the children calling for you Tommy pulls you back for one more kiss...

🌿 "Wait, there we go, just one more moment of peace..." he says quietly kissing you again, holding you close.

🌿 The children love it when he reads them the night before christmas, they're almost always half asleep by the time he's finished, your youngest sitting in his lap, drooling on him...

🌿 Watching him stroke their hair and kiss their heads,whispering to them little good nights and "love you"s before the two of you turn out the light and go back downstairs...

🌿He was late because he'd picked up last minute gifts for you, so he'd be trying to send you up to bed before him "go on angel, warm it up for me eh..."

🌿 He's probably so relieved to get into bed with you that evening, he'd wrap his arms around you and sigh, completely content and happy.

🌿Christmas always leaves him feeling grateful for everything he has, getting into bed with you and holding you close reminds him all the more of everything he has, how important you and the children are... He would still be a little preoccupied thinking about the morning, excited to see the children's faces when they see that father Christmas has been, looking forward to the way you'll kiss him when you open your gifts.

🌿Tommy will be the last one who falls asleep that night, he's too busy making the most of the peace, the bristling excitement in the air, just enjoying the feeling of you in his arms, knowing the whole family is together, safe and sound and full of joy. 

Alfie

🐻 Alfie is only be celebrating christmas because you celebrate christmas, otherwise to him its not really a very important day at all. More than that it's "a fuss about nothing!" And a "tiresome inconvenience if you ask me little ziskeit, don't know why anyone bothers with it all..."

🐻 Every year it's always the same... Alfie promises he won't be grumpy this December, he promises he'll try to embrace the Christmas Spirit and be "merry and bright my little ziskeit, that's me, that's your Alfie ain't it, merry and bloody bright..."

🐻 But every year Alfie seems to be more grumpy than the last, grumbling and stropping about every tiny inconvenience, the market is always busier this time of year and he can't go out without bumping into people, getting jostled in the crowds... and his frustrations lead to some very comical rants about Jesus Christ and how he must have been one narcissistic baby to demand such a fuss...

🐻 By Christmas Eve you've just about had enough of his ranting and raving, all his grumbling and stropping, so just when he's about to go off on one all over again you stop him, arms crossed over your chest, face like thunder, eyes so steely and determined as you scold him for being such a grump that he stops dead in his tracks...

🐻 "Alright that's it, Alfred I've had enough!" Alfie can't keep the stunned smirk off his lips, he can't believe his little ziskeit is standing up to him... "Oh? What's this then are you tellin me off poppet? Are you gonna give your old man a piece of your mind?" He just sits down in his arm chair, one leg crossed over the other, hands resting on top of his cane, looking up at you expectantly...  "Well go on then ziskeit, you give your old man a firm talkin too, tell me what a miserable, rotten old miser I'm being... don't hold back my darlin, don't try to spare my feelings eh, do your worst poppet..." it's like he's challenging you, waiting to see what you'll say but you've really had enough... all you want is a cosy, merry little Christmas...

🐻 "Don't tease me Alfie!" You sniff trying to remain indignant, trying not to get emotional as you hold your chin up high, "all I wanted yeah, was one peaceful little Christmas right and you promised Alfie, you promised youd try and get into the spirit of things this year but all you've done all bloody month is..."

🐻 You trail off when you hear him sigh, when you see that warm teasing glow in his eyes, he's smiling softly, watching you as you try to continue scolding him... Then he pushes himself up and walks slowly to you, takes your hips in his hands and guides you a pace into his body, looking down at you, expectantly, patiently waiting for you to be done with your own ranting and raving... And when you trail off and look at him you understand...

🐻 "Now then? Do you reckon you're finished tellin me off now poppet? Reckon your old man might be allowed to get a word in now yeah? Even if he is a mean old grump?" He's still teasing you and your blush is furious as he takes your cheek in his calloused hand and strokes your face with his thumbs, "my my you don't half get yourself in a tizz about these things do ya ziskeit, all this fuss over one bloody day..."

🐻 "Ain't just any day though is it Alf, s'christmas an it only comes once a year an I wanted it to be perfect... Not just for me but for the kids you know..."

🐻 "And it will be my little ziskeit, it will be... You trust me on this yeah, good old Father fuckin Christmas'll make sure everything's perfect..." he says reaching behind his chair for a tatty brown sack, slinging it over his shoulder and shooting you a wink...

🐻 Because Alfie does this every year too... Kids on that he hates Christmas, that he thinks the whole things a big old waste of time... Pushes you to your absolute limits, waiting for the day your fierce but rare temper bursts only to chuckle and pat you affectionately on the cheek before saying something stupid like "Ho Ho Fucking Ho and all that right..."

🐻Because actually he doesn't dislike Christmas as such, he just dislikes watching you get yourself so flustered about what is essentially just one day... He doesn't see the point in how rushed off your feet you get, how worried, how high your blood pressure must sore.. for just one day... A day you couldn't ruin if you tried.

🐻 He would try to help you with things like wrapping presents for the children but he wouldn't be very good at it at all, so it would be obvious who had wrapped what, his presents will hardly even be in the paper and honestly, sometimes you find yourself having to redo his poor attempts at wrapping.

🐻 Your Christmas traditions are mixed with Hanukkah traditions, you light the Menorah together for each of the eight nights of Hanukkah, you make donuts together (he fusses over you when it comes to frying them fretting about you burning yourself on the oil) he fills the house with joyous and spirited traditional music and teaches you and the children to play Dreidel (often making a grumbling fuss when he ahs to hand his Hanukkah Gelt over to whoever just won it off him)

🐻 He enjoys the irony of the whole Christmas thing, grins and laughs at himself when he sits down to read his children a christmas themed bed time story. He thinks its amusing because by now he knows it by heart...

🐻 Tells the kids that their father christmas doesn't like milk and cookies, he likes a drop of rum and some rugelach instead...

🐻 He will sit with the kids as they're falling asleep, he'll sing them a low, gentle little lullaby and stroke their little heads, Alfie has a calming presence which settles them, he's like a big soft teddy bear watching over them and when he wants them to settle down and drift off he can soothe their excitement in minutes... And on Christmas Eve he wants nothing more than to see them all settled because he knows that when he goes back downstairs looking for you he'll find you still busy, still fussing... And he wants to make sure you relax and enjoy the most important day of the year "allegedly"

🐻 He'll stop in the living room doorway, his body a big shadow blocking out the lamplight... he doesn't have to say anything to let you know he's there... you're sitting on the floor trying to wrap last minute gifts and make sure everything's perfect... he just tuts at you and shakes his head...

🐻 "Tsk tsk little ziskeit, you're breakin your promises this evening ain't ya... see I don't know if you remember right, well.. you can't possibly remember cause if you did then I'm sure you wouldn't just be breakin em willynilly now would you poppet... do you remember what you promised me this time last year?" You do remember what you promised him but you're determined you won't be admitting that tonight... Alfie however has other ideas.

🐻 He'll beckon you up and over to him with his finger, nod for you to come right up close. Then he'll take your hips in his hands and guide you back a pace, settling pulling you down into his arm chair with him, holding you firmly in his lap, "There we go that's better back where you belong right, that's better... now then where were we? Right... yeah, you were going to tell me all about that promise what you made me on Christmas day last year... weren't you ziskeit..." when you remain silent he chuckles and shakes his head, "oh no no no that won't do, nah... it won't... my darlin ziskeit what you seem to be forgettin right is this... only the naughtiest of naughty girls break their promises right... and on this very important evening even the worst yeah, even the most rotten of young ladies will keep her promises right... cause if she don't yeah well she might just find a lump of coal waiting for her in the morning yeah .. what dya reckon my little ziskeit? That what you want is it? A nasty old lump of coal?"

🐻 "One of these days I'll give you a nasty old lump of coal Alfie Solomons" you flower up at him so sulky and sullen he can't keep the grin off his face because he thinks you look adorable like that..

🐻 But although he chuckles and laughs along, lets you tease him too he still makes you promise that you're going to relax and let yourself enjoy the day too...

🐻 "If you're going to get so worked up about it, I'll call the whole bloody day off..." he will literally threaten to cancel Christmas, he's only teasing but it's a joke he never tires of especially when you start threatening him back, "I'll cancel you in a bloody minute Alfred now get over here and help me with this bloody bird!"

🐻 He will spend the rest of the evening hovering around you, telling you to let him take care of everything (you absolutely won't be doing that) but after another hour he's managed to help you with all the finishing touches and he's coaxing you up to bed...

🐻 "Now come on my little ziskeit, what do I have to do to make you see sense... You know how this works you are the angel who taught me all this madness after all... If you don't go to bed and get your beauty sleep old Saint Nick just won't come... Will he? So poppet, this is my suggestion yeah, just a gentle suggestion yeah, come straight from my heart because right, because I care about you very much and because your old man is getting very very tired... Why don't you an me yeah, why don't we go upstairs now and tuck ourselves up nice an snug in bed because I'm not daft yeah, I know how this works by now... In a few hours time those little terrors will be jumpin on our legs to wake us up won't they...."

🐻 And you know he's right so you give in and roll your eyes and let him take you up to bed. Before you go to sleep you make him promise not to be too grumpy in the morning, he makes you promise you'll relax.

Arthur

🍂 Definitely promised you he would come straight home from work, definitely promised he wouldn't stop in the Garrison with his brothers and the lads from the office...

🍂 Definitely does stop in the pub on his way home... Everyone was in such high spirits leaving that evening and Arthur doesn't want to miss out on the celebrations... Besides, he'll only have one.. and he's got all Christmas to spend with you and the little ones...

🍂 And of course this is Arthur so he doesn't only have one... but he doesn't get too drunk either and he doesn't stay out too late because he loves the excitement at home on Christmas Eve and he doesn't want to miss out on all that fun either...

🍂 So he walks home a little merry and he stops in the garden to build a snowman outside the children's bedroom window. You can hear him scuffling about outside and when you catch a glimpse of him through the kitchen window you roll your eyes... why the fuck did you marry such a big kid?

🍂 But you trust your husband's up to something and you don't want to ruin whatever surprise he has planned for the kids so you shut the curtains and go upstairs to check on the little ones who are brushing their teeth and getting ready for bed. You know they're dragging it out because they're waiting for their dad to come home...

🍂 You sneek outside to try and coax Arthur indoors out of the freezing cold, wrapping your arms around yourself as you whisper to try and get his attention... "Arthur... Arthur bloody Shelby what the fuck are you doing out here come on it's freezing!" And when he hears you he raises his hands in surrender, promising you he isn't drunk... which doesn't exactly reassure you...

🍂 "Eh love, don't suppose you've got a carrot you can spare me eh? For the kids?" He nods to his snowman and you can't do anything but roll your eyes and pretend not to be amused... you are though, you think he's so silly but you love him for it, love him for how much he loves the kids...

🍂 So you give him the carrot and then you drag him inside out of the cold, kissing him and rubbing his arms to try and get him warm... Of course when the lids hear the door close they come running downstairs overflowing with excitement because dad's home "finallyyy!"

🍂 You can't believe how they've shot from being almost settled, drifting off in the arm chair together, to bright as little stars, fizzing up and bubbling over shouting and jumping and tugging on his sleeves when he does his best father Christmas voice.

🍂 Arthur scooping his little ones up in his arms, getting excited with them, winding them up asking them if they're excited for all their lovely presents, asking them what they've left out for Father Christmas...

🍂 But one look at you and the realisation that you're starting to look a little worn out and like you might need your own bed very soon gets him to settle down, gets him to try and calm the little ones again...

🍂 to save himself from your potential frustration that he'd caused such a commotion he'd be trying to charm you into giving him a smile and softening on him again, stealing a kiss from you under the mistletoe and pinching your cheek, teasing you...

🍂 "lighten up my darlin its Christmas eve... Eh you'd better turn that frown upside down my sweetheart or father christmas won't have any presents for you..."

🍂 To try and get the kids into bed he'd do things like pretend he can hear father christmas on the roof, or he'd tell them that whilst he was out he saw something in the sky that looked just like a sleigh... "so you'd better hurry to bed my darlins cause you know what will happen if father christmas comes and you're still awake... Coal! Coal for the lot of ye little rascals..."

🍂 Remembers his snowman outside and tells the kids to look out of their window, "Now you know who he is don't you you little rotters, he's one of old father Christmas's spies... I mean helpers and he's come to make sure you lot are all tucked up in bed fast asleep... So you'd better get yourselves up them wooden hills hadn't you... Come on my darlins chop chop.."

🍂 He's definitely been out last minute Christmas shopping for gifts for you and has to try and slip them under the christmas tree before you see them... He also had to wrap them last minute and he's not wonderful at gift wrapping when he isn't drunk and in a rush...

🍂 When you gather the kids in bed to read them a bedtime story he wants to listen too and climbs into bed with you all... He definitely gets a little too comfy snuggled under the blankets with you all and falls asleep during the story which the children find highly amusing.

🍂 Perhaps the children should leave a nice glass of water out of father christmas this year?

John

🌼 A huge child about Christmas, really he is just a big kid at heart and he's just as excited about christmas as the children... he's definitely not helping to calm them down or get them settled in bed that's for sure!

🌼 Instead he comes home for his work that evening with pockets full of sweets for them and lets them eat as many as they like... Pinching some for himself too...

🌼 Being too sentimental for his own good he hardly stopped in at the pub with the lads, let them "force" one whiskey down him, one which he downed slammed on the table and then announced to the room that he was off home because unlike the rest of them he's a "highly responsible father"... So he was laughed out of the Garrison naturally...

🌼 When he comes home he throws the sweets into the air letting them rain down over the children who dance and jump at his feet, all of the scrambling to catch and father as many as they can...

🌼 All you can do is watch and let yourself get wrapped up in the craziness of it all too... you already know there's no trying to tame your wild little family, especially not when John's talking the lead like this...

🌼 He'll tease them telling him he saw some of father christmas's elves in the garden, that they told him there'll be no toys for the shelby children this year...

🌼 But your children are smart and they know their daddy is just being silly. Which they won't be shy about telling him, pointing at him, giggling and arguing with him, dragging you into the argument too begging you to "tell daddy not to be so stupid!"

🌼 He's really done it now and the children are feral, together they wrestle him down to the ground and threaten him with lots of tickles and other terrors if he doesn't take it back... And of course John lets them win. He can't breath for laughing so hard and neither can you.

🌼 When you finally stop laughing at the mess he's gotten himself into you manage to convince him the children need to go to bed, he'll tell them that actually the elves told him they're waiting for the shelby children to go to sleep so that father christmas can come and deliver all their presents.

🌼 So the children will finally go to bed, they'll leave a wee carrot for the reindeer and a little treat for father christmas too, and they'll leave a little path of destruction for you and John to tidy up once they're tucked up and asleep... One which you inform John he can tidy up by himself... One which you know you'll be tidying up together.

🌼 John, more than the children, will be begging you to read the night before christmas... It's a little family tradition you have been doing since the first Christmas you stayed with the Shelby's and told it to all the Shelby children to settle them when the rest of the family had an emergency meeting. You've always been a little shy to read it in front of John but every year he insists just the same... "Voices and all!"

🌼 When you challenge him and say "why doesnt daddy read it this year?" he just pouts and says "i think mummy does it better what do you think children, doesn't your mummy read it wonderfully..." He has that mischievous twinkle in his eyes, one you can't say no to and wouldn't want to say no to even if you thought you could get away with it...

🌼 So you have to read it and John just gets all cosy with the children, they'd be giggling and whispering with him mischievously the whole time, impossible to settle down until you're kissing them all on the forehead and turning out the lights. Even then you can see them fidgeting and wriggling in the dark, hear them giggling behind the closed nursery door.

🌼 When they're finally asleep and you were ready to go to bed yourselves, John would sneak away to go and make reindeer prints in the snow outside for the children to find the next morning.

🌼 Then he'd come back to find you trying to tidy away his mess... Honestly he'd end up making more mess when he grabs you by the waist and asks to get his hands on his "beautiful, beautiful wife..."

🌼 What can I say the man's got a lot of pent up energy that needs to be used up before he goes to sleep...

Bonnie

🍀 Bonnie's used to a very busy, very family driven Christmas... One which is simple and traditional but chaotic and lively... All the family comes together for Christmas and their little camp practically triples inside as more and more families arrive each day in the weeks running up to Christmas...

🍀 But all the chaos means there's so much extra work to do and even though there's also extra helping hands, between Bonnie being dragged away on hunting expeditions to gather food for Christmas Day and wood for the fires, and you being rushed off your feet with children to mind, presents to make and hide away... Well you and Bonnie have hardly had a second together for days...

🍀 And Bonnie's favourite part of Christmas is getting to spend it with the people he loves - you most of all. He had so many plans for this December with you and so far he hasn't been able to get you alone for long enough to do more than give you a quick kiss on the cheek...

🍀He's longing for Christmas day so that all the fuss will be over and he might sneak you away to give you your presents...

🍀But before that there's Christmas Eve to get through, just one more day and then finally the two of you will get a little peace... And the way you keep shooting him long lingering glances from the steps of your vardo, from by the fire, from where you sit buried beneath your younger siblings and a blanket...Bonnie can tell you're thinking exactly the same as you..

🍀Though he has to admit he does love to watch you playing with the youngens, getting them ready for bed as the sun goes down and they get rosy cheeks by the fire. They're so cute and you're so good with them... It doesn't half make him broody, he can't help but imagine what kind of a mammy you'll be one day...

🍀Every time he tries to come and sit down with you someone steels him away, his dad gives him a job to do, some of the younger lads demand he joins their snowball fight...

🍀And it's that snowball fight that means he finally gets his hands on you... Because when one of the lads clips one of the lassies you've been sitting with on the back of the head with a snowball all he'll breaks loose and all the kids are suddenly picking sides and scrambling to action.

🍀Naturally you're siding with your best friend, against Bonnie and the lads... Which means your competitive streak shines through and challenges Bonnie... Who never backs down from a fight. Its not long before you're tearing through the trees, kicking and throwing snow at him, giggling because you know you can't escape him, and god you don't want to escape him!

🍀So finally he gets his hands on you, wrapping his arms tight around you, pretending he's fighting you to the floor... The chill of the snow as you sink into the drift on your back, the cold prickles all over you but all you can concentrate on is the warmth of his breath on your cheek as he pins you down and locks eyes with you...

🍀 "So this is what I have do to steal a moment with my girl eh?" He teases wasting very little time before he kisses you deep and passionately, that desire to see you become a mammy almost getting the better of him as you giggle and push him off you reminding him it won't be long before the two of you get swarmed by bairns.

🍀So instead he helps you up and walks you back to the fire to get you warmed up, and he uses his own chill as an excuse to sit with you by the fire for awhile, admiring you, falling in love with you a little more as you gather the youngens round you once again to tell them a story as they drink their hot milk before bed.

🍀Later when it's late and most of the littlens are fast asleep, when the musics being played and everyone's merry on hot mulled wine Bonnie finally gets you all to himself, dancing with you by the fire, stealing all the kisses he wants, teasing you asking if you've been good this year an if you reckon father Christmas is gonna visit you.

🍀Cuddling up to you when you're both tucked away in bed, whispering to you about how sweet you looked with the littlens earlier.. boy has baby fever and trust me it gets ten times worse at Christmas.

Isaiah

🐀 Watching the chaos ensuing at the Shelby Manor and listening to John and Ada talking about all the stress of Christmas with the children is making you and Isaiah feel very grateful that you're still young and that this Christmas Eve the only thing you've to worry about is the Garrison running out of drink...

🐀 You've been looking forward to seeing your friends all week having been busy in the shop you work in right until close that very afternoon... Isaiah would meet you at your work to pick you up and in his pocket he's got s gift for you...

🐀 "I was going to wait until tomorrow to give you this but I thought you might like to wear them tonight..." He says kissing your lips and then your neck as he shuts your bedroom door behind you and pushes you back into your room gently. He's being extra charming, the romance of the season getting to both your heads.

🐀He's brought you a pair of divine ruby earrings, they're utterly gorgeous and you can't believe he's giving them to you at all least of all when it's not even technically christmas yet! You gasp, thrilled by the beautiful gift and immediately put them on...

🐀 You're trying to get ready to go out, trying to change into a prettier dress for your evening out but Isaiah has other ideas... he wants to see what you look like when you're only wearing those earrings...

🐀 So you're late to the Garrison and you turn up looking a little less than pristine but neither of you care because youve been sharing a bottle of wine on the walk and you're both ruby cheeked warmed by your drink for the road...

🐀 Spending the night laughing and dancing with all your friends, Finn's managed to sneak away from his demanding nieces and nephews and even Bonnie has managed to come up with an excuse to stay in town a little later than usual rather than heading straight back to the camp to help with the kids...

🐀 You spend all night wrapped up in Isaiah and your love for him... there's something about christmas which still excites you, wakes up your inner child and makes you giddy... all the glowing lights the decorations, the snowfall outside in the street.

🐀 Every time Isaiah catches you under the mistletoe he insists on a kiss, not just a peck but a cheeky, tempting kiss, one which makes your tummy flip and reminds you of what you were getting up to in your bed earlier than evening... one which makes you wish you could sneak off with him again...

🐀 At kicking out time you and your friends all go stumbling out into the snowy street together, all of you feeling drunk and carefree, like big children, Michael and Finn start a snowball fight which sees you all laughing and play fighting in the street, you join Bonnie's team and torment your boyfriend who is only pretending to be jealous... right?

🐀 Somewhere amid the chaos Isaiah snatches you and pulls you into the back of a parked car, it's dark and he's hovering above you in the back seat, your body pushes into the leather seat... when you look up his grin his boyish and ever so cheeky...

🐀 "Oh would you look at that eh... a Christmas miracle..." he teases holding the mistletoe he's stolen from the garrison above your head, pulling you in for an even deeper kiss than the last...

🐀 It's hard not to go too far but after a long while of torturing eachother with tempting kisses you realise you're late for his father's mass and you both go running off hand in hand down the street, finishing the last of the drink he also took from behind the bar at the Garrison.

🐀 You're hand in hand and oh so drunk as you slip into the church and sit in the corner of a pew right at the back, you're giggling quietly to one another, holding hands, propping one another up...

🐀 at different times you both fall asleep and wake one another up and when it comes time for communion you're both giggly, trying very hard to be serious, already knowing that his father is going to know how pissed you are... You're not in trouble though, he just tsks at you both and smirks when he offers your wine, a quiet "not that you need it" and a wink when he sees you practically falling asleep on his sons shoulder.

🐀 Isaiah carries you home through the snow, bundling you up into bed with him, cuddled up under the blankets, unable to stop himself waking you up and stealing a good night kiss from you.. one which becomes so much more than just a kiss...

Michael

☘️ Michael would love nothing more than a quiet Christmas, just you, him and his mum... But that's not how being part of the Shelby family works...

☘️ He spends the run up to Christmas stressing about the journey back to England, he's worried about you meeting his family for the first time... Not because he's worried they won't like you, but because he's worried you will see how fucked up his family is and want to run a mile...

☘️ You arrive at Arrow House on the morning of Christmas Eve, you've travelled through the night through snow and freezing wind, but when your car finally makes it up the long winding drive you're taken back by how beautiful it all is... How grand the house is, how very English it all appears to be...

☘️ You're nervous to meet the family, most of all Polly because you're sure her opinion means more to Michael than anything else in the world. If Polly doesn't like you it's over...

☘️ But everything Michael has warned you about... His cousins schemes and manipulative personality... Well you're surprised to see that you don't see anything like it... All you see is one busy, chaotic house packed full of children and adult men who run around pretending to fight and shoot one another much like children...

☘️ You're completely absorbed into family life from the second the servants take your bags... You're overwhelmed by the Shelby family but you can't say you're not pleased...

☘️ Whilst Michael is jumped upon by his cousin's you're swept up by the women, Ada and Lizzie giggling as they mix you up a gin and tonic and show you their hiding place in the kitchen when they need two seconds peace... Not from their children who are running around feral with excitement for christmas, but from the Peaky men who are apparently more of a handful than the children...

☘️ As the evening draws in Michael wants to steal you away but he can't bring himself to because you're sitting on the floor playing with the children.. Arthur is dressed up as Santa asking them all what they want for Christmas...

☘️ But when he invites you to come up and sit in his lap, asks you if you've been a good girl this year Michael has to intervene and save you from his cousin.

☘️ He coughs and very awkwardly speaks up to save you, asks to borrow you for a minute... Lies and says he needs your help in the kitchen... And this lie is obviously met with smirks and jokes because everyone knows he's just jealous of Arthur's stupid flirting...

☘️ He actually apologises for his cousin, it's just you and him in the kitchen and he looks nervous, like he's worried you're going to run off with Arthur... But when you ask what's wrong he shakes his head, says "nothing... Just promise me they haven't scared you off..." you can't help but laugh at that.

☘️ "What? Don't be daft Michael, I love them and I love you!" And he's very glad to hear that, blushing like a teenage boy because he's gone all out to spoil you this Christmas... There's so many gifts under the tree with your name on them but the gift that's most important is in his back pocket... He was going to save it for tomorrow but now that he's got you alone in the kitchen he realises there's no better time to ask you to be his wife than the present...

☘️ So your Christmas Eve ends in Michael getting down on one knee on the kitchen floor surrounded by carrot peelings...

Taglist

@inalovesrabbits-blog

@cocoaflowers

@zablife

@jomarch-wannabe

@itsghostgirlyo

@marwwfairy

@toddlerbodybag

@everysage

@tommyshelbywhore

@kas3ylovesyou

@kxnnxy

@starrykitn

@call-sign-shark

@only-malala

@galactict3a

@darkcastle167

@liliac-dreamer

@impossibleheartflower

@mollybegger-blog

@vanhelsingsbigtoe

[cowboydisaster]

I have no idea about the historical accuracy of this but imagine a reader who used to be in a pretty well off family (think like the braithwaites level in society) but she left it all and gave everything up to be with Arthur. It’s her first Christmas away from her family and she misses the Christmas tree back home. Queue Arthur cutting a tree down with his big manly man strength and dragging it back to camp to surprise her🥲

* ˚ ✦ Stardust * ˚ ✦

pairing: arthur morgan x f!reader word count: 4k a/n: margo!! This prompt was too cute. I kinda took it and RAN so I hope I did it justice! xx

cowboydisaster's christmas countdown: SEVEN days 'till christmas!

christmas countdown┊main masterlist┊rdr2 masterlist

If there's one thing you haven't gotten used to in this way of life, it's the elements. Camp is situated in Big Valley along the Upper Montana River. It's beautiful, and more open country than you've ever seen in your life. But damn, is it cold in winter. Snow drifts down from Mount Shann, creating a beautiful flurry of white around camp, albeit a freezing one. 

At this moment, though, the cold doesn't bother you. In the safety of your tent, back tucked against Arthur's chest, it's impossible for the cold to reach you. He keeps you warm. Like a furnace, that man. You'd be worried he was running a fever if you weren't so used to his toasty-warm temperature. 

You shuffle against Arthur, readjusting in the soft cotton cot. The wind whispers quietly outside, peacefully. Gone is the loud whipping ice storm that had come through a week or so ago. It's been replaced by a quiet falling of snow, the creak of nearby oaks. 

“Darlin’? What is it?” Arthur whispers, voice sleepy against your ear. The hand that's hung over your waist squeezes gently, a small act of encouragement to respond. You smirk. You can picture his face, eyes closed, or half-lifted, eyebrows knitting with worry. 

“What's wrong?” He whispers again. The hand on your waist flattens against your stomach, gently pulling you back towards him. 

Oh, your Arthur. His heart is perfectly in tune with yours, and well, when yours is sunk, he notices. A peculiar little thing you've discovered– he always notices those small details, those small fluctuations in your mood. On top of that, he always addresses them. 

Those selfless personality traits are why you left the city in the first place. Arthur is genuine, real. He's caring, and he communicates with you when you're upset. Your mamá and papá were far too concerned with selling you off to the most eligible bachelor in Saint Denis to care about your feelings. The bachelor's characteristics were of no importance, just his wealth and status in society. That life was… a load of shit, as your dear Arthur would say. 

You'd started sneaking downtown at night to get away from the chaos of your home. Your parents were always fighting and screaming. Broken dishes and ringing ears became a staple in that house. La Bastille Saloon was a short walk from your house on Flavian Street. And that's where you met Arthur. 

Despite his career, you immediately recognized him to be the first honest man that you'd ever met in your life. In a mere thirty seconds of conversation, you'd found a depth to him that your father could never scratch, a kindness that no arranged husband would show you. And so it became a habit. You'd sneak out of your window a few times a week, meeting him at La Bastille– talking, laughing, drinking. Arthur's whiskey burned far more than the French wine you'd sipped on in your life. Where you came from, drinking was for show. To sip on a glass of imported chablis was to assert class, but Arthur taught you how to drink for fun. He'd taught you how to play cards and how to cure a hangover. Your parents would be mortified at your unladylike behavior. 

Arthur showed you fun, and kindness, spontaneity and honesty in a world that you thought was without those virtues. When Arthur had asked you to join him, it was an easy yes. He laid it all out. the good, the bad and the ugly. Criminals, you'd be joining. He was afraid that you would turn away, but crime is no stranger to you. Coming from high society, you saw the rich take from the poor time and again. You saw laundering and fraud, servitude, coercion and arranged murder. 

All your family does is twist lies for their own benefit. They're all snakes, sinking their teeth into everything they come across. Gluttonous in their pursuit to expel venom. It has drowned the whole city of Saint Denis, sunk into the cobblestone roads and poisoned the entire place. 

You see more honesty in the Van der Linde's life of crime than in your family's. At least the Van der Lindes are honest about what they do, and only rob from those who rob from others. 

Leaving with Arthur was the most freeing feeling you've ever experienced. You love him with all your heart. You love the gang, and your new life, and yet even with all that you've gained, you still left so much behind. Joining Arthur; it's the best decision you've ever made, and you don't regret it for a moment, but the approaching holiday is bringing out sadness, memories of your childhood, friends that you'd left in the city. Any good memory of the city is recalled through rose tinted glasses, but still, it's beginning to sting now that it's almost Christmas.

“Darlin’?” Arthur says, the grogginess no longer evident in his voice. He pulls you back to the present like a tether. His thumb drags soothingly over your hip bone, and underneath the thick blankets, you lay your hand atop his. 

“Hmm?” You offer. 

“Where's your head at?” Arthur whispers, breath against your ear. 

“Oh, just thinking.” You smile, but it doesn't reach your eyes. It's a sad smile, bittersweet. If a candle were lit, and he could see it, Arthur would be much more worried. 

His fingertips brush your hair away from your face, gently pulling some strands behind your ear towards the braid they have escaped from. 

Arthur lifts his hand from you, adjusting the blankets as you turn over in bed. Once you're facing him, he makes sure that all of the blankets cover your frame.

“It's just that this will be my first Christmas away from home.” 

A small silence ensues. One that threatens to let tears slip down your rosy cheeks. Your nose tucks into Arthur's chest as you sniffle, hoping he hasn't taken your words with offense. This is your home now, and you wouldn't have it any other way. But old habits die hard. 

“You missin’ home?” Arthur whispers between kisses to your hair. You shake your head quickly 

“No-no. I don't want you to think-” 

“Baby, I ain't gonna give you a hard time ‘cause you're missin’ home. Hell… my childhood weren’t nothin’ but a world of pain, and sometimes I miss it.” 

You should have expected his understanding. Arthur's never made you feel foolish for your feelings. His hand traces along your hip, keeping you warm and coaxing you to settle back into the comfortable space that he’s surrounded you with. 

“I’m finding it difficult.” You whisper, “The holidays are coming up, and they’re bringing lots of memories. Fond ones, things I don’t want to forget.”

“Tell me about them.”

“Well…” You crack a small smile, eyes going far away, back to old memories long ago, “Papá would have a Christmas tree shipped from Cumberland forest, only the best for him of course.” You chuckle, and Arthur smiles for the sweet sound. 

“And we would decorate it with candles, blown glass, popcorn and cranberries. Oh, it was such a sight Arthur.” You say, a wonder in your voice. The memories are crystal clear in your head. Bright colors, laughter, songs. 

Arthur's Christmas memories don't bring much joy. Except for the year his daddy didn't come home. Still, the way your eyes have lit up– Arthur wishes he could have experienced the Christmas that you're describing. He wishes he could see you with that much joy. 

“Have you ever seen a Christmas tree?” You ask, rekindling that tether and pulling him back to you. 

“Nah, only in the papers. I ain't never lived nowhere so fancy to have a Christmas tree.” 

“It was so beautiful…” You whisper, a chill running down your spine. You hardly notice it, but Arthur pulls you closer nonetheless, his body heat wrapping around you like the warmest of blankets. 

“It seemed as if when the tree was decorated and we all sat together, maybe it was not so bad.” You murmur, and the wonder dissipates from your eyes, replaced with reality. 

Arthur waits for you to collect your thoughts. A whistle of wind breaks the silence before you do. 

“Ah, I'm sorry for this show of emotion. It's silly of me.” 

He shakes his head, forehead gently meeting yours. Your eyes marvel up at Arthur, making out the deep blue of his eyes from a stretch of moonlight that's infiltrated the room. 

“You ain't ever gotta apologize for gettin’ emotional, sweetheart. Not with me.” 

All you can do is nod, feeling again like a schoolgirl with butterflies running rampant in your stomach. His breath traces your face, noses just barely lining each other. 

His lips meet yours, soft and sweet. Your heart soars like it does every time he kisses you. It's something that you're sure you won't ever get used to. But something you're hoping to find familiarity in, because you never want to stop kissing him. 

He pulls away all too soon for your liking, placing a sweet kiss to your forehead. When he hears your small whine, he huffs. 

“I know, get back to sleep baby, I'll still be here in the mornin’.”

It doesn't take long for you to slip back into slumber, not with the soft whisper of the wind, and the cocoon of warmth around you. Arthur practically carries you across the threshold into sleep with the way his arms wrap around you. 

In the little tent, deep in the snow, Arthur begins to hatch his plan. He kisses your head, climbing over you and out of bed to light a candle. It provides just enough light to illuminate the pages of his journal. Just enough light for him to illustrate his surprise. 

He had promised you– all those months ago, when he'd packed your bags onto his horse and ridden you out of the city– that he would do anything and everything to make you happy. It's a promise that he intends to keep  

— — — 

a few days later 

“This is the one.” Arthur marvels, sparkling eyes cast upwards toward the fullest, greenest evergreen in Cumberland Forest. You deserve nothing but the best, and he’s sure that he’s found it.  

Arthur takes a short moment to pull out his journal, dusting some fallen snow from the leather cover. He sketches the tree, a way for him to remember the moment. To remember how the tree had been, perfectly untouched in nature. He takes his time, back propped against the unhitched wagon in the forest, hat covered in a thick dusting of snow. A few flakes even drop onto the page, melting and smudging his charcoal. 

When the branches are sketched to his liking, he accompanies them with a quick passage and closes the book. 

For the lady. Christmas. 1899. 

When the book snaps shut and is stuffed back into his journal, he looks up, finding a questioning look on his trusted stallion’s face. 

“What?” Arthur’s brow furrows, “I’ll plant another one.” 

The stallion sighs.  

Arthur moves around the back of the wagon, pulling an ax from the toolbox, dusting some snow off the handle with gloved hands. The ground is covered in a thick layer of white, the horses too. They press their noses together, whinnying and rumbling, entertaining each other with horse-typical play in the snow. 

“Jasper. Sugar. Quit bein’ sweet on one another, we got work to do.” Arthur calls back to the two horses. What a pair, those two.

Jasper is Arthur’s stallion. He’s well behaved. Shy. Obedient. Then there’s Sugar. She was a gift from Arthur to you. White as snow and wild as the wind. She still is, despite all of her training. 

Arthur had brought the pair of them with the wagon to pull the tree back to camp. But now, Sugar seems more interested in kicking up snow, and well– Jasper is only interested in following Sugar around, hearts practically emitting from his eyes. 

Snow falls in thick flakes,  dotting Arthur’s red flannel and melting against the thick material.  He pays it no mind. The snowfall silences the forest, save for the rhythmic whack…whack of Arthur’s ax hitting the evergreen, and the softened sound of playful hooves in the snow.

“Don’t tire yourselves out.” Arthur huffs to the horses, “Jesus.”

A few more swings of the ax, and the tree begins to fall. It hits the ground with a thud, not nearly as loud as Arthur imagined it would be. But, the snow softened the fall, he supposes. 

In a matter of minutes, the tree is in the wagon. Just a few more, and Jasper and Sugar are pulling it home. 

If everything is going according to plan, right now you should be with Marybeth, picking holly. She had taken you out, because she had “wanted to spruce up camp a bit.” Little do you know, the little adventure is a part of Arthur’s plan. With you away from camp, he was able to borrow Sugar, take Jasper, and get the tree. With you away from camp, the final touches can fall into place.

Arthur gently taps the reins over the horse’s backs, urging them into a faster canter along the beaten down snow path back towards camp.

“Hyah! C’mon, we’re pushin’ it.” He calls to the horses. The little golden bells on their harnesses jingle and ring as he pushes them towards camp, massive evergreen in tow. He checks his pocket watch, cursing quietly before putting it away.  Sadie should be done by now. 

It’s not long before the horses are pulling into camp, large puffs of white billowing out from their noses as they catch their breath. Arthur hops down from the wagon, his hand running along the expanse of it as he reaches the back. 

“Well,  I’ll be damned!” Dutch’s voice booms from across the camp. He makes his way towards the wagon, “Now this is how we celebrate Christmas!” 

The evergreen nearly overtakes the wagon, branches sticking out from all directions, billows of snow still stuck to them. Dutch has no idea how Arthur managed to get it into the wagon. An approaching Hosea is just as flabbergasted.  

“You know, I never took you to be much of a romantic, Arthur. But this might just prove me wrong.” Hosea 

“Whatever you say. Now, quit gawkin’ and help me get this big bastard up.” Arthur mumbles, grabbing the thick tree by the trunk and pulling it down. Sap sticks to his hands as he begins to drag it out of the wagon. Carrying it into the center of camp is a group effort– much easier than Arthur getting it into the wagon by himself. 

“I reckon you two can handle this. I got some other things to check up on.” Arthur steps back, sizing the tree up and down.

“Run along then and leave us the hard work.” Dutch muses, within earshot of Arthur.

“Figured it would do your old bones some good to do real work, Dutch!” Arthur hollers back over his shoulder,  chuckling to himself as he makes his way towards the circle of tents.

“Mrs. Adler?”  Arthur hollers, approaching the A-frame tent, “You in there?”

Before he can part the white canvas tent, Sadie emerges, and he backs up.

 “You get it done?” Arthur asks, cheeks tinged bright pink from the cold. Hat white instead of black. Sadie chuckles for it. 

“Did I get it done?” Sadie mocks with a huff, “A’ course I got it done.”

From her tent, she pulls out a Christmas tree garland. A string carefully woven through dried cranberries and popped corn. It's beautiful and long. It must have taken her hours to make. Arthur’s eyes go wide in small wonder as she transfers the garland to him. 

“S’perfect, Sadie. She’s gonna love this.”

A wide, bittersweet smile stretches across Sadie’s face, “Jake taught me how,” there is a pause as Arthur nods in understanding, “Now go. Go decorate it for your woman.” Sadie smirks.  

“Dear boy! Dear boy, how does it look?” Hosea calls out, and Arthur’s attention shoots towards the tree. They have it standing upright now, perfectly in the center of camp. It stands tall, a real beauty. 

“Perfect.” He gapes at it, wishing he could have done something like this when he was younger– hoping that it will live up to your memories. Arthur doesn’t have the money to buy fancy ornaments, but he’s doing everything in his power to make it special for you. 

With the help of the horses and the wagon, everyone manages to wrap the garland the whole way around the tree, even up to the top. The little trail of white and red looks beautiful against the dark green of the pine. Arthur places lit candles in holders on the branches, casting a beautiful hazy glow that lights up the tree. Camp members begin to gather, circling around the tree, watching and helping. Mrs. Grimshaw offers some holly. Karen offers some candy canes that she had bought in town, hanging them from the branches. 

The sun begins to set, and Arthur checks his watch, knowing that you’ll be back any minute. A small tug on his pants pulls his attention downwards. 

“Uncle Arthur?” Little Jack whispers, eyes sparkling with the reflection of the tree lights, “I made this for you! For you to put it on auntie's tree!” 

Arthur’s brow furrows, and he glances quickly up to Abigail, who is smiling warmly. Jack reaches into his little bag and pulls out a beautiful paper star. He has apparently put a lot of time and effort into folding and cutting the paper into a perfect little topper. Jack’s little hands extend the star up to Arthur, the smile on his face brighter than any of the tree’s candles. 

“You made this?” Arthur asks. 

“Yep, I sure did! Momma even helped me cut the paper!” 

Arthur kneels on the ground– eye level with Jack, a smirk on his lips,  “I think we better put it on the top then, don't you?”

“Oh yes! It would be perfect on top! I just hope aunt y/n likes it…” 

“She’ll love this, buddy.” 

With some more help from a very grumpy Sugar, Arthur manages to place the star perfectly on  the tree top. And just in time, apparently.

When Arthur steps back, taking in the tree for all its glory, his jaw falls slack, eyes filling up with wonder.

It's beautiful. At dusk, the candles shine brightly. The garland has attracted a few red cardinals, and they rest in the branches, comfortable in the new camp tree. Everyone looks in awe. It’s perfect.

— — — 

“No peekin’.” Arthur whispers in your ear from behind, his hands covering your eyes. He slowly walks you forwards towards… something. He hasn’t explained anything to you, just… kidnapped you right outside of camp. You’ve been walking with him, eyes covered for nearly five minutes. 

“Oh, Arthur, what is going on!?” You giggle, hands covering the length of his own, a smile plastered on your face. 

“S’a surprise, darlin’. That’s why you can’t peek.” Arthur’s voice whispers from behind you,  his chest nearly pressed against your back as he inches you forward. 

You roll your eyes. Suddenly, his footsteps are still behind you, and you stop in return. 

“Is this why I was stuck in the forest picking berries all day?” You ask. Arthur huffs. 

“Shhh. We’re here.” He shushes. 

Your heart quickens with excitement, bottom lip tight between your teeth with anticipation. As much as you try to listen for any clues, all you can hear is the munching of hay and the crackle of the campfire– typical for camp after dusk. 

“Arthur…?” You whisper, almost afraid to break the quiet. Anticipation swirls in your stomach, followed by anxiety tickling up your spine. 

His calloused hands pull away from your eyes, and your lashes flutter as you focus on the sight in front of you.

It’s… a christmas tree. Your jaw falls slack, and as unladylike as it may be, you can’t help it. A small gasp escapes your rosy lips. 

It must be twelve feet high, and it's thick with branches. Candles, and decor wrap around the tree like a dress tailored to perfection. Color and light burst from the beautiful tree, and before you can control yourself, tears are welling up in your eyes. 

“Arthur, I–” Your voice cracks, the tears almost spilling over.

“Darlin’?” Arthur’s thumb softly brushes the inside of your hand. For a moment, he worries that he’s misstepped terribly. The sight of your tears brings forth a small panic, quelled by the outburst of your smile. Tears fall freely from your eyes, but they are of joy– not sadness. 

“You got me– You got me a Christmas tree?” You smile, wiping away the tears as he envelopes you into his warm arms. You sniffle, laughs of pure joy escaping into his chest as he holds you tight.

“Merry Christmas, sweetheart.” Arthur whispers to you, arms wrapped around your waist. The light from the tree dances in your eyes, almost as beautiful and bright as your smile. 

“Oh, Arthur, it’s perfect.” You gasp, eyes glued to the tree, pulling away to glance into Arthur’s eyes, “How ever did you get it here?” 

“With a little help.” Arthur nods towards the horse station where Sugar and Jasper are laying in the hay, nuzzling each other sweetly. As if knowing, Sugar whinnies towards you softly, followed by a quiet neigh from Jasper.  

Your eyes wander back towards the tree in front of you, and then to Arthur once again. His hands slide down from your waist, thumbs settling into the dimples in your back. 

“It's beautiful.” You say.

“It’s all yours.” 

In all of your life, Arthur has been the first person to cater to your emotions– to care about them. Your heart fills with love, so much that it overflows and floods the earth at your feet. Soaking into the ground of the camp, touching the hearts of the others around you. 

“I love you.” You whisper, head resting on Arthur’s chest, eyes fixed on a cardinal that’s pecking at the popped corn on the tree. 

“I-” Arthur pauses, realizing. His brow furrows, eyes flickering down, “Wait, what?”

“I said I love you.” You reiterate, chin propped on his chest to look up at him. Arthur looks nearly blown away by the words. Words he’s not heard from you yet. Words that he’s nearly let slip time and again over the past few months. 

Arthur’s lips crack into a smile, crows feet wrinkling for the action. His thumb brushes your cheek before trailing down to your chin, pulling you in towards his lips. You lean on your tiptoes, brushing your lips against his, meeting him with all the love and joy that you never thought would be possible for you. He’s taken you from a bad situation, and given you everything you could have wanted and more. Your lips press against his, pink-tinged noses lining each other. Your eyes flutter shut, snowflakes catching in your thick lashes as you deepen the kiss. Your fingers tangle into the hair at the base of his neck, your tongues dance with one another. 

When you pull away to breathe, your eyes lock with his, sparkling with light. 

“I love you too.” He smirks, hands wrapping under your thighs, eliciting giggles from you as he hoists you into his arms. Fat snowflakes fall into your hair as Arthur turns towards your tent, ready to carry you to bed. 

“No- wait!” You grip his arm, stopping him in his tracks, “Please, Arthur- just five more minutes. I’d like to keep looking at the tree.” 

Arthur pauses, brushing your cold cheek, “Alright. Five more minutes.” He smiles, pressing a sweet kiss to your hair.

The tree shines bright as ever, as if god had sprinkled stardust down from the heavens, painting your tree in beautiful white light. 

taglist: @margofiore @mrsarthurmorgan7 @woman-with-no-name @tillith @luvliewriting @pine4pple-b0i @photo1030 @dudsparrow @holyratrimony @twola

[fleckssadgirl]

𝓑𝓪𝓫𝔂 𝓘𝓽'𝓼 𝓒𝓸𝓵𝓭 𝓞𝓾𝓽𝓼𝓲𝓭𝓮

Arthur Fleck x Reader

Warning: Gross amounts of fluff.

Enjoy this Christmas Ficlet.

𓆑𓆑𓆑

You hated the cold.

No matter how many oversized sweaters you donned, the wind still found its way through your icy skin.

You enjoyed an evening stroll down to the only area in which Gotham had some greenery: a small park. With your feet in fuzzy socks, and double knotted combat boots, you shivered in the Christmas Eve air. This was not the weather you were hoping for, but you couldn't bring yourself to wuss out, simply from the cold, but you soon regretted your decision. Your nose hairs were starting to turn into icicles, and your ears were getting sore. You could use a large cup of coca, with loads of whipped cream on top. The very thought gave you the energy to leave your walk and up the several flights of stairs to reach your dreadful apartment.

When the screech of a gate reached your ears, you knew that the heat from your building would soon relive your incessant chills. It was by no means a burst of warm air, but it was certainly better than outside, and that was enough for you. Even the rattling of the elevator didn't seem to bother you as much as it normally did: it was warmer than the winter wonderland you had exited from.

You were about to slide the key into the lock when you heard the dull sound of footsteps, nearing you. Glancing upward, your eyes met the figure of your next door neighbour: Arthur Fleck. His head was down, and he was carrying a bag of what you presumed were medications from the pharmacy. You knew of Arthur's condition, from the few times you had spoken to him. He was rather quiet, but you could tell he had a kind soul.

"Hey Arthur!"

He turned around in surprise, his eyes meeting yours. It made your heart stop for a quick second.

"Hey, Y/N." He smiled gently, setting down his bag and reaching for his keys.

"H-have you had a good holiday?"

He turned back towards you again, seeming surprised you were continuing this conversation. He opened his mouth, and shut it again, giving a slight nod.

"That's good." You weren't sure exactly how to continue the conversation and you glanced at your snow-slicked boots, trying to think of another question you could ask him.

Before you could he finally spoke. It was so soft you felt yourself stop breathing in fear it would be too loud.

"How has yours been?"

"Great!" You responded far too quickly and enthusiastically. You cringed inwardly.

This response seemed to have startled him, as his eyes widened and he gripped tightly on his door handle.

Before he could beeline for his apartment, you stepped towards him.

"Uhm, I was going to maybe drink some hot chocolate, and listen to some music. Would you....care to join me?" You felt your face get hot, as you fidgeted with the hems of your sleeves.

He looked down the hall, and back to you.

"What, me?" he questioned, gesturing to himself.

You grinned.

"Yeah, who else, silly?"

His hand was clutching the doorknob with all his might, his eyes darting to his door.

"Well, uhm, my mom is expecting me..." He refused to meet your eyes, as he stared down at a stain in the hideous carpet.

"Oh, well that's alright." You bit your lip, trying to hide the disappointment that most definitely was on your face. You liked the guy, what could you say? There was something very intriguing about him, that kept you wondering.

"Sorry." He barely whispered.

"No, it's alright. I get it. Have a good Christmas." You almost scrambled to get your own door open. Once you had closed it, you felt yourself breathe normally for the first time since you had seen him.

You couldn't lie; you were pretty crestfallen when he made his excuses. You were certain you had freaked him out by being too eager, something you were normally quite good at, but for some reason hadn't been. He gave you butterflies, and you weren't sure why.

Sulking, you trudged towards your sofa and let your weight fall down on top of it, not caring if you had even removed your coat or boots.

It's not like you had expected to see him. Why were you so upset he didn't accept your invite?

You know exactly why, a little voice chirped, to which you huffed in annoyance.

You were too lazy to even get up and make your much needed cup of cocoa, opting for a sip of tepid coffee, which made you gag in repulsion.

So much for a nice Christmas Eve.

It had seemed like hours, but had only been a few minutes, you heard a knock at your door.

Part of you wanted to ignore it, but you also were curious who was on the other side.

You, with some difficulty, finally made yourself get up and open the door.

To your utter and complete surprise, it was Arthur Fleck.

The butterflies returned.

"Hi."

"Hey, Arthur."

"I'm sorry."

"For what?"

You could swear you could hear your heart beating.

"I-I wanted to come over, it's just...I got nervous and...." a small fit of giggles suddenly erupted from his mouth.

You looked at him with deep concern.

"No, it's ok. Really. I completely understand. You don't need to explain yourself to me." You reached out, resting a hand on his arm, and rubbing it comfortingly.

He clutched his chest, taking a few deep breaths.

"I-I, appreciate it." he finally got out, blinking back his watery eyes.

You smiled at him, your eyes gleaming with warmth.

"Come in. I'll make you some hot chocolate."

He nodded and let you pull him into the apartment.

𓋹

You were stirring a packet of chocolate mix into warm milk, your toes bouncing, as you hummed the chorus to a popular Christmas tune. The cocoas were loaded with whipped cream and topped off with a slightly dinky candy cane. You admired your effort, and took both mugs to where Arthur was sitting.

He was admiring your large collection of records, his eyes set on your special edition of Nat King Cole.

"Jazz fan, huh?"

He set the record down, and reached for the cup of cocoa.

"Yeah, I guess so."

You took a sip. You felt it warm your body almost immediately, and let yourself relax and sink into the sofa. There was something so wonderful about this time of year, even if the cold was like Hell frozen over.

And the company certainly made it better.

You supposed he was quiet because he didn't have much to say, but, you wondered if maybe he had so many inhibitions set into him, that he just chose not to talk, in fear of what others would think.

"Why are you always so nice?"

The question seemingly came out of nowhere and took you off guard.

"Because I like you."

You couldn't believe you had said that with so much nonchalance, you wanted to both pat yourself on the back and smack yourself in the face.

He nearly spat out the hot chocolate from his mouth. Choking slightly, he gasped for air.

"Y-you d-do?"

"Of course. Why wouldn't I? You take care of your mom, you work in a place to make people laugh, and you always smile at me when we cross paths. I think you have such a lovely soul, Arthur. I hope that you know that."

He seemed genuinely grateful for your praise. It was clear he didn't hear it often. You feared that people often judged him because of his condition.

"No. I guess I didn't." He ran his hands down his arms as if a chill had run through him. "I think that I don't deserve that."

You wanted to cry at his confession. What a tragic admission, to not know your own goodness.

"Oh, Arthur. I know you do."

Before either of you could comprehend what was happening, had reached out for his face, and had kissed him.

It was brief, and uninteresting, but it sent a larger wave of heat than the hot chocolate had.

You wanted another one.

You hesitated, fearing he hadn't wanted to be touched this way, but were completely shocked when he reached for the back of your neck and kissed you again, this time with a little more movement.

Your head had gone completely fuzzy, and you had forgotten all concepts of time.

When he pulled away, you let out a rattly breath.

"Wow, Arthur I had no i-"

You didn't finish your sentence before his mouth was on yours again.

There was no stopping him now. You had confessed, and now so had he. You wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him closer as his hands slid from your neck to your waist, and finally settled on your hips.

Neither of you were sure how long you kissed, but you were certain the moment he released you that you were addicted.

You laughed, your fingers finding their way through his chestnut curls.

"You keep that up, there's no way I'm letting you leave."

He chucked.

"I probably should. My mother might need me."

Before he could stand up, you let your legs cage him between you.

"Nooo, you can't go now. I just got warm." you pouted.

"Y/N, c'mon, you'll be alright. I promise."

And with that he lifted you off him, and made his way to the door.

Before you could feel more saddened at his disappearance he turned just before exiting.

"Don't worry baby. I'll be back."

With a wink, he closed the door behind him.

Merry Christmas indeed.

𓆑𓆑𓆑

Hope you like!

Have the most wonderful Christmas!

<3 Lyddie

[book-place]

Snowy Traditions

Warnings: Slight mention of death and threats, let me know if I missed any :)

Pairings: Shelby family x sister reader

*not my gif*

Summary: The Shelby siblings had a tradition they did every year, and it would be your first time partaking in the festivities

A/N: Welcome to the bonus day of Book Places 12 Days of Christmas Event

Please don’t plagiarize my work, you may reblog if you like but I’m asking that you don’t steal my hard work

“If she catches her death out there, I will make sure you are the one who will really suffer, Tommy Shelby.” Polly said threateningly, eyeing the man as she finished helping you out your mittens on.

Arthur let out a booming laugh, bending down and scooping you up into his arms, throwing you into the air a little bit before catching you again, “Don’t worry, Pol,” He said, making a funny face at you, “We’ll make sure she’s fine.”

You giggled up at your eldest brother, reaching your arms forward and squishing his face together between your little fingers.

“Come on!” Finn complained with a whine, bouncing on his heels in anticipation, “I want to go!”

Your aunt spun around on her heel to look down sternly at the boy, “That goes for you too, Finn Shelby. You better keep those hats and gloves on and your jacket zipped up, or you’re going to have me to deal with.”

John laughed at his little brother while Tommy watched from the side with the smallest ghost of a smile.

It had been the first snowfall in Small Heath since the boys had returned from war, and it had always been a Shelby sibling tradition before then to all go out together and play in the white wonderland.

Tommy hadn’t been sure at first if it was a good idea, the business being very busy and all, but some begging on Finn and Arthur’s part got him to hesitantly relent.

You were four years younger than Finn, who was eight years old, and had been far too small to attend the last time they had gone, so it would be your first time.

When Polly finally sighed and stepped back, the youngest brother let out a whoop of joy and swung the door wide open, sending in a gust of cold air.

Arthur lifted you up even higher and placed you on his shoulders, making sure to keep you steadied by holding onto the top of his head before taking off out the door.

Tommy followed behind the two of you, giving Polly one last nod before closing the door and stepping out, trailing after all of his siblings.

You let out a laugh that had your brothers hearts melting despite the cold as you turned your head up and squeezed your eyes shut adorably and opened your mouth to allow snowflakes to fall in.

Taking John’s distracted state as he looked at you to his benefit, Finn tried to give him a large shove into the snow from the side, putting all of his weight behind it.

John wasn’t even moved an inch though as he turned his head down, eyes sparkling with amusement at his younger brother's valiant attempts before taking one hand and easily pushing the boy into a nearby snowbank.

Your laughter echoed through the streets as you rocked back and forth slightly at the sight, nearly giving Arthur and Tommy a heart attack when they thought you were going to fall.

“Give ‘er here, Arthur.” Tommy grumbled, quickly and gently taking you away from his elder brother.

You looked up at him with the same wide grin and round eyes that you had flashed at Arthur, and he automatically softened, placing you on his hip as all of you continued trekking through the snow.

John and Finn continued roughhousing as Arthur joined them and Tommy just shook his head lightly with a small smile.

Though there were some other children out and about to enjoy the snow, they quickly scrambled out of the way as the Shelby siblings approached, eyes widened with both fear and wonder in a way that made Finn grin as if he were the king of the world.

“Dow’! Dow’!” You babbled, trying to wiggle out of your brother's grip and he looked over at you with a raised eyebrow as you all went up a nearby hill.

“You wanna walk by yourself?” He asked, chuckling slightly.

You nodded your head vigorously, eyes cast over to where your three other siblings were messing around, obviously wanting to join in on the fun.

“Alright, then.” He said with a shrug, “Oi! Boys!” He called, getting their attention, “Our sister wants to come play with you.”

“Is that right?” John asked, rushing over and scooping you up before spinning you around and setting you back down, “And what would you like to do with us, n/n?”

“Sow! Sow!” You cheered, bouncing up and down excitedly.

“Yeah,” He nodded in understanding, “There’s snow everywhere.”

With a lot of laughter, you bent down and scooped up as much snow as you could between your two gloved hands and threw it into your brother's direction.

Arthur and Finn doubled over at the look of pure shock that John wore at your actions, even Tommy was snickering a little bit.

John threw a glare to the three of them and looked over at you with mischief sparking inside his eyes, “Oh, you think that’s funny, do you?” He smirked, “Well, how about this, then?”

Without warning, he threw some soft snow at you, making sure to aim for your chest instead of your face, and watching as your expression fell as you slowly looked down at the place he had hit you.

The other brothers were howling with laughter by then, giving John just enough time to pick up some less-than-soft snow and chuck it at all three of them.

You fell over into the snow you were laughing so hard at that point.

Tommy, Finn, and Arthur all stood frozen in shock for a moment before the same look of mischief danced into their eyes and they bent down and made snowballs, nailing the middle brother, and taking extra care to make sure you weren’t being hit.

Eventually, after the snow war had broken out between your brothers, you wandered off a bit to the side of the hill and sat down, mouth dropping a little bit at how it overlooked all of Small Heath.

It wasn’t long before your brothers made their way over to you, plopping down onto the ground beside you and staring in awe the beautiful sight of their home covered in a fresh layer of snow.

“What do you think, eh?” Tommy asked, playfully grabbing on and dragging you to sit in his lap, “Was this fun?”

You looked up at him with a grin and nodded before nestling your head into his chest and gazing back out at the snow covered world.

[margowritesthings]

The Greatest Gift A Cowboy Could Ask For

a @rdrevents winter gift exchange for @cowboydisaster

SERIES MASTERLIST

pairing: Arthur Morgan x pregnant!f!reader word count: 3215 words warnings: teeth-rotting fluff, pregnant reader, labour, birth a/n: Bea! i cannot BELIEVE i got you for my winter exchange but i was SO HAPPY when the email came through! I tried to combine all three of your prompts and then proceeded to lie to you for a month about what i was writing for gift exchange whoops

anyway, merry christmas my love! this year i met you and im so glad i did! you're such a lovely soul and such a talented writer and i hope you enjoy this!! <3

tagging: @cowboydisaster @cassidylynnj @inkandbloodbound @counteveryfreckle @reaveries @elifsukirdaghehe @musicallisto

It’s the smell that wakes you up, that sweet aroma you instantly recognise as drinking chocolate. For a moment, it disorients you, because Pearson never has drinking chocolate in, but your eyelashes soon flutter open and your mind registers that you’re right where you should be: yours and Arthur’s shared tent. You’re alone, the bed beside you cold enough to know that Arthur has been up for a while, so you reach over to the gold pocket watch you stole from that poker player with the shifty eyes in Blackwater all those months back, finding the time to be 37 minutes past 9.

“Shit…” You’ve slept in. Normally, you’d lurch up, throwing on your boots and clothes and rushing out to catch up on chores, but you physically can’t anymore. Your swollen belly restricts any and all quick movements, that usual ache waking up and settling right in your spine. It’ll stay there all day, it always does nowadays. 

It’ll be worth it, you reassure yourself, imagining Arthur holding his child, the one you made with him, in those big strong arms, loving it unconditionally, and the ache somehow doesn’t seem so bad, after all. There’s a weird feeling that remains that you can’t quite put your finger on, but you can ignore it enough to get on with your day, you think.

Slowly, you sit up, wrapping a woollen blanket around your shoulders to protect you from the chill of the December air. When Ms. Grimshaw found out you were pregnant, she hounded Dutch until he set you and Arthur a proper tent up, which your eyes scan over now. The cup of chocolate is still steaming and when you wrap your hands around it, the heat radiates through your hands and settles in your core when you sip. It tastes so good, the rarity of such a treat only making it better. You smile to yourself, picturing Arthur leaving it there for you to wake up with and sneaking around as to not wake you, the big old brute. 

It takes you far too long to get ready nowadays, but in time you do, pulling three pairs of socks over your swollen ankles to protect your feet from the cold. Your boots are tricky to get on thanks to your 8 month bump, but you eventually manage to do it and stand up all by yourself. What a morning of achievement. And all before 10AM… just about.

═══════☆═══════

The snow crunches under your feet as you pull your coat tighter around you and step outside onto Horseshoe Overlook. Your breath dances in the air whenever you exhale while surveying the camp and your brows knit together when you don’t spot Arthur. You can see his horse by the hitching posts, munching from the trough, but Diesel, your own steed, is nowhere to be seen. You’re not concerned, Arthur has started alternating between Diesel and his mare since you became too pregnant to ride him yourself, but that doesn’t stop you from missing the both of them. 

“Auntie y/n!” As usual, you hear Jack before you see him and you just about jump out of your skin when you feel his little arms hug around your leg. You have no idea how he manages to sneak up on you every damn time, and by god does it make you nervous for when your own child can crawl out of sight, but you laugh nonetheless, ruffling his hair like you so often do when you see him.

“Y’alright there, Jack?” You look down to the boy, actually having to peer over your belly to see him beaming up at you. 

“Yep! Santa’s coming tomorrow and mama said if I’m good and I put one of my socks outside tonight I’ll get presents.”  He’s so excited he can hardly stay still, releasing his hold on you to shuffle from foot to foot restlessly. Looking at Jack, you can see your future. You see Arthur reading Christmas stories to your own son or daughter before bed and bribing them with presents every time they misbehave in the entire month of December. The magic of Christmas is alight in Jack’s innocent little eyes, unburdened by any of the shit the adult members of the Van der Linde gang have to worry about. And you just can’t wait to share that magic with your own little family.

“Is that so?” You raise an eyebrow questioningly at Jack, crossing your arms and resting them on your belly gently,

“Uh huh! She said we have to leave room at the hitchin’ post for his reindeer, too. I told Uncle Arthur so he leaves space when he gets back with Diesel.” Now he’s stepped back, you can see just how red the tip of Jack’s nose is, despite the four scarves Abigail seems to have wrapped him in.

“You saw Uncle Arthur this mornin’?” Your curiosity piques at the mention of your husband and his curious ongoings. Jack nods, but looks off to the side, much less eager to talk about this subject.

“Uh huh. But he made me promise not to tell you where he went.” He can’t seem to fight off the smile pulling at his near-blue lips and it's goddamn adorable, but it doesn’t stop you from at least attempting to corrupt this child’s promise, planting your hands on your hips.

“Oh, yeah? What about if I had a word with Santa for you, huh? Ask if he can bring ya’ an extra chocolate bar?”

So this is what it’s come to, huh?

Bribing a 10 year old… 

Forshame, Mrs. Morgan.

═══════☆═══════

It’s another hour before you find out where Arthur is. Jack doesn’t break under interrogation and you make a mental note to let his Uncle Dutch know what an asset he is to the gang. Pearson makes you bacon and eggs even though you missed breakfast on orders from both Arthur and Grimshaw to never let you go hungry in your condition. The strange feeling from when you woke up doesn’t seem to budge even with a full stomach, but that thought is pushed out of your head when you see a dog, covered in snow, burst past Charles keeping watch and come barreling towards you. You don’t have time to react or figure out what the hell is going on before there are wet paws on your lap and a fluffy, panting smile only inches away from your face.

“MOOSE! Get back here, Moose!” Arthur’s voice bellows through the camp and you can hear Diesel's gallop, but you can’t seem to see anything but dog as the hound in front of you grabs the last piece of bacon from your plate and begins licking your face.

Somehow, Arthur runs over to you and grabs who you assume to be Moose, picking him up with an ease that only his strong arms could take. You seem to be frozen in shock, your mind working triple speed to catch up with your surroundings. 

Okay, what can you feel?

My face is wet.

What can you see?

My husband, holding a 50lb dog like it’s a baby.

What about smell?

Not sure, but it definitely isn’t my last piece of bacon.

“God, darlin’, are you alright? Did he hurt’cha?” Arthur’s concern is evident, wrinkling his forehead with worry as he puts the dog back on the floor, who has considerably calmed now that there is no more bacon. Arthur takes a few strides before he’s in front of you, kneeling beside you to take your face in his huge gloved hands and wildly scan his eyes over your features. 

“I’m fine, I’m fine. The only casualty was my breakfast.” At 8 months pregnant, it’s hard not to find that completely and utterly tragic, but at least your baby is safe.

“That damn dog… I should’a listened when the guy told me he’s got a mind of his own.” Satisfied of a lack of wounds to your person, Arthur stands, holding out both hands to help you up too. You fall into his embrace perfectly, finally feeling the relief of the first contact with your beloved for the day. It makes everything feel that much better, that much safer in his arms that you hum contentedly.

“Mornin’, sweetheart.” Arthur whispers into your hair, placing a kiss right atop your head, “Good morning…” you sigh out, basking in the bubble that’s forming around the two of you, as if you’re the only ones in the world. “Thanks for the chocolate this morning.”

“My pleasure.”

You both stay there for a while, swaying in your embrace, until you eye what’s going on around you and have to break the moment.

“...Arthur?” “Yeah?” “Why is there a dog eatin’ one of Dutch’s books?” “Ah shit… Moose! NO.” Arthur all but barks, his arms slipping from your waist to retrieve Moose. He slips a rope around Moose’s collar, which seems to calm him quite a bit, enough to be able to lead him back over to you. Now the excitement has died down, Moose sits beside Arthur, doting up at you with the epitome of ‘puppy dog eyes’.

Alright… it’s pretty damn cute.

And when Arthur sheepishly rubs the back of his neck, you know he’s yours. You can read your husband like a book.

“I, uh… The other month y’said you’ve always wanted a dog, and I figured it'd be easier to get a dog then a baby rather than the other way around and… and well you’re giving me so much this year, more than I can ever repay and… well, merry christmas, Mrs. Morgan.” His nervous ramblings that only you seem to have the ability to enable are a pleasure to watch. They grow your grin by the second, as does the goofiest dog you’ve ever seen smiling up at you. You’re so happy you could burst, though you certainly wouldn’t want to in your state. You’re completely speechless for a second.

“You’re… you’re not mad, are ya?” “I mean, I ain’t never heard’a somethin’ so bold as gettin’ a new dog a month before givin’ birth, but no. I… I love him. Thank you, Arthur.” You reach onto your tiptoes to throw your arms around his neck as best you can with a baby between you, kissing Arthur with enough force for him to drop the makeshift leash in complete distraction. Moose feels his release happen and runs off again, this time finding and chasing Jack around in circles while he laughs madly. Arthur snakes an arm around your waist and you feel your head fit perfectly into the crook of his neck while you watch the chaos. 

“How’re y’feelin’ today? Still achin’?” “Uh huh… But I’m okay. Feel a little weird, but I think that’s normal at this stage.” You reply honestly, feeling the smallest bit of relief from the thumb circling your lower back.

“Well, take it easy, alright? I’ve done chores enough for the both of us.”

“Alright… Thank you.” You sigh, actually rather missing the hustle. You’re a ranch girl at heart who isn’t used to just sitting around, your decreasing list of things you can actually do nowadays getting more frustrating by the day.

“Not long to go now till we meet her now, angel.” “We don’t know for sure it’s a girl, cowpoke.”

“I know… I just gotta feelin’.”

═══════☆═══════

Later that evening, everyone in camp is sitting around the fire breathing like dragons as they sing christmas carols to Javier’s guitar and you’re tucked under Arthur’s arm, cuddling into him to keep warm. You’re pretty sure Moose hasn’t left Jack’s side all day. Not since he slipped him an entire bowl of stew at dinner, at least. 

The strange feeling of pressure that has been building in your abdomen all day hasn’t yet relented, but you haven’t yet found good enough cause to worry anyone about it. You’re 8 months along, surely you’re supposed to feel weird?

You’re the only one close enough to Arthur to know that he has absolutely no idea what the words to this song are. He’s mumbling along to the general tune, sounding a lot like Uncle’s slurs after a few too many whiskies. It takes everything in you to not snicker at his poor attempt to guess how many of which kind of bird or performer or… maid(?) this songwriter got for Christmas, especially when you’re pretty sure you hear the words ‘seven fish-a-shittin’ leave his lips. 

Everything is one fat man in a red suit away from being the perfect picturesque Christmas Eve, which you’re about to point out to Arthur when the sharpest stabbing pain rips a strangled cry from deep within your throat. Your hands shoot to your belly helplessly, wanting to grip at it to ease the pain but knowing you can’t. The carols are too loud for anyone but Arthur to notice, who instantly crouches in front of you.

“Sweetheart? What’s wrong?” He’s panicked, grasping at your arms and attempting to capture your attention away from the considerable pain you’re clearly in. Your face is scrunched up, teeth clenched down in some poor attempt to brace the pain.

“I… I don’t know. It hurts. Feels like pressure.. Right- argh!” 

This time, your cry is loud enough to gain the attention of those around the fire. Javier stops playing and most everybody looks over at you. Ms. Grimshaw and Dutch both stand, concern evidently written in their expression. 

“Is she alright?” Dutch asks,

“What’s happenin’, honey?” Grimshaw kneels beside Arthur in front of you. You try to breathe through the smallest hole your lips can make, focusing on the sensation as much as you can rather than whatever is happening to you. You’re trying your hardest not to worry about the baby, but it’s hard, especially with so many people now worrying about you out loud.

“I… dunno. Hurts.” You manage to get out, finding Arthur’s hand and gripping on it with a downright bruising force.

“C’mon, let’s get you inside and out of the cold, alright?” You nod, feeling Arthur holding onto one arm and who you assume is Dutch on the other helping you to your feet. You lean on them as much as possible and somehow you make it into your tent. You’re laid down on your cot just as the pain begins to subside and your lungs feel like they can open back up again. When your eyelids soften again, you see Arthur’s worried face right beside you, Grimshaw pottering around with towels and Dutch waiting by the entrance to the tent with Dr. Strauss.

“Darlin’? Y’alright?” The sheer intensity of the panic in his voice is almost more than you can bear and you know he’s being plagued by the same nightmare you are right now, just hoping to god or whoever the hell might be listening that your baby is okay.

“Mhm. S’easing now… It just came on real quick, that’s all…” Your breaths are struggled but ever so slightly more stable than before. Arthur’s thumb runs over your knuckles soothingly. 

Over by the entrance to the tent, you see Dutch and Strauss in a hushed conversation that frays your nerves something awful. “What’s happening, Arthur?”

“I… I don’t know, sweetheart. But you’re gonna be okay. I promise.”

Enter Dr. Strauss, carrying his medical bag. Arthur stays right by your side as the Doctor sits in front of your cot, mumbling his apologies as he lifts up your skirts and pulls a blanket over your legs.

You’re panicking, not knowing how you know exactly, but knowing that the pressure is going to come back soon. An awful anticipation clamps your hand onto Arthur’s tighter, but Strauss’ head pops up from under the blanket before it happens. Arthur’s head whips around.

“What’s happening, doc? Is she okay? Is… is the baby gonna be okay?”

The second between Arthur’s question and Strauss’ answer lasts a lifetime. It’s an agony worse than anything this pregnancy has thrown at you in all its 8 months in existence. 

“I believe you’re in labour, Mrs. Morgan.”

═══════☆═══════

It’s a long, hard labour but Arthur never leaves your side once. Not when your waters break, or when he can barely keep his eyes open. Not even when you almost break his hand the first time you try to push. He stays with you. 

He’s right beside you when you start to panic between contractions, tears falling down your reddened cheeks. “It can’t be here yet- we just got a dog and it’s only been eight months and I-I don’t know if I’m ready…” 

But he knows just what to say. Of course he does. He even brings Moose in to say hello and prove he has relaxed a lot since his first arrival.

He’s with you when you break, sobbing that you can’t push anymore, your forehead falling against his in pure exhaustion. “Shut up, stupid.” He scolds gently, earning a confused look from you. “You know damn well you’re the strongest woman alive and you can do goddamn anything. It’s one of the many reasons I fell for ya’. Now push, before I name this baby Hoagy after it’s Godfather.” 

He’s there when she’s born, such a tiny little thing, a month early but just as healthy as if she were overdue. He’s got that smug look on his face when Strauss announces her arrival, the loudest silent ‘I told you so’ you’ve ever seen. 

Arthur holds his daughter in his arms for the first time on Christmas Day, his eyes glistening in the candlelight. 

“She’s… She’s perfect. She’s so perfect…”

Your energy is depleted, truly, after so many hours of labour, but you manage to sit up against the makeshift crate headboard to watch your husband and daughter meet each other.

Her tiny hands reach out for Arthur, holding onto his cheek and if you could freeze time forever and live in this moment, you would.

“You’re incredible, you know that?” Arthur whispers, shifting to kiss her palm, “Isn’t she?”

“I mean… she is, but I was talkin’ to you.” He looks up at you and you decide not to mention the tear tracks you spot on his skin.

“Oh, hush…” There’s an attempt to wave him off, but your shaky limbs don’t quite manage.

“No, I mean it. You… You’ve given me everything. I never knew I wanted to be a dad, but now she’s here and I’m holdin’ her I…” He’s choking up in a way you’ve never seen before. The great outlaw Arthur Morgan, who has killed and robbed and beaten, breaking in front of you in the most beautiful, vulnerable way imaginable. “It’s everything. I can never thank you enough. This is the best gift I could ever get, my beautiful, amazing wife.”

His words radiate through you, relaxing your spine and calming each ache bringing life to the world has given you. You can feel your eyelids get heavier by the second and it gets harder and harder to fight the sleep you so desperately need.

“Arthur?” You’re barely audible, but Arthur is sat close enough to hear you,

“Uh huh?”

“We don’t have to name her Hoagy, do we?”

“We’ll talk about it later, angel.”

[photo1030]

Leather and Lace - I’ll Be Home For Christmas

Summary:  Its Christmas time and Arthur has been out in the cold, missing for several days 

Warnings:  A bit of swearing; but very tooth-decay sweet (sorry)

A/N:  I was inspired by the other Christmas / seasonal stories and images that I’ve seen so I wanted to try it for myself. *I crunched this out pretty quick, compared to my usual schedule, to meet the “deadline” so this may not be my best work. (For those following my current storyline, this one is out-of-sequence due to it being Christmas time, but it does go with it)

*This AMAZING image is not mine. This comes from @randomscreenshotsworld​

This image was a major influence on the storyline, so I thank you!!

It’s been a few days and the gang hasn’t heard from Arthur or John. With everyone tucked up in the mountains in the snow, Arthur and John went out for supplies. Local law has recently started collaborating with Pinkertons, and with enforcement creeping closer, Dutch feared getting cut off and surrounded. So before the Van der Linde gang could get trapped, Dutch pushed you all North. He figured with the coming winter, most people would head South, and hoped to find less densely populated areas for everyone to lay low and regroup.

The feeling in the air is low. Everyone is cold. Everyone is tired. Everyone is hungry. And, it is Christmas time.

Charles, Arthur and John had scouted ahead and found an abandoned house up in the foothills. Partially buried in the snow, it was large enough to house the group, along with some smaller cabins on the grounds. If you had to guess, it was a working farm at one time with the main house for the previous owner and the other buildings were the workers' quarters and/or various processing buildings. And by the looks of it, whoever lived here just up and left, maybe moved west.

The main house was solid, protecting all of you from the elements. Fires were lit in the fireplaces throughout the house, desperate to keep the cold at bay. After you had all arrived and Ms. Grimshaw had begun the process of setting up a secure camp, Arthur took John back out to scavenge for food, medicine, blankets, or anything to help stock up on needed supplies, while leaving Charles with the rest of you. His reasoning was that Charles is the best hunter of the group. Should something happen to either him or John, at least you all would have Charles to help provide. Plus, if Arthur himself isn't going to be in camp, he only feels safe leaving you with either John or Charles to look after you.

Your nerves are on edge with Arthur being gone so long. He is usually only gone a day or so in inclement weather, and its been two days already. The snow and winds are picking up fiercely and one cannot be out in these harsh elements for too long. Even someone as strong and capable as Arthur. But you try your best not to look too worried, for Abigail is in the same situation with John gone, too. And, she has little Jack to try to reassure as well. So in an effort to distract yourself, as well as the Marstons, you decide to try to make things more cheerful in your new location. It is Christmas time afterall. You, the girls, and Jack work to make Christmas decorations for the old house. Digging about within the house, you collect what few things you can find to work with, as well as your current supplies. You make colorful paper garlands and cut snowflakes and string them about the rooms. You bring in pine boughs and pine cones from outside to decorate the windows and fireplace mantles, placing candles about, glittering with their soft and inviting glow. Even Ms. Grimshaw is helping out. Her job is to take care of the camp, and she has made making the new homestead cozy and comfortable her top priority.

"Hey, I see something out there," says Javier, who is sitting on watch by the window. You and Abigail rush to the window as well, pressing against Javier's back to try to see what he sees. You all see a figure approaching, but only one. Its John. Javier and Charles rush out of the house and into the cold to help John stable his horse and carry what provisions he has with him. When he gets into the house, it is obvious that John is quite happy to have made it back. He's half frozen, but the good news is that he has a sack of food with him. "Thank God you're OK!" exclaims Abigail, elated for once to see the man. "Yeah, I'm alright. Freezin' as all hell, though. We got any coffee on?" John asks hopefully, looking over her shoulder to see if he can spot the coffeepot on the fire as he rubs his gloved hands together before blowing his warm breath into them in a futile effort to defrost his fingers.

"Where's Arthur?" you ask John, your voice laced with concern when you look around desperately and its apparent that John came in alone.

"We split up," says John, turning to face you in the small group that has gathered around him now. "We came down through the pass just as the weather picked up. Arthur thought we should cover more ground since we were losing time with the storm rolling in harder. So at the fork, I went right and Arthur went left," and he motions with his hands to reiterate. "I haven't seen him since we split, but I'm sure he’s fine," dismisses John with a wave of his hand, not paying attention to how your eyes shoot wide open in shock. The thought that Arthur was wandering out the cold by himself was almost too much to handle.

"What the hell is the matter with you two idiots?" asks Hosea, exasperated. "How are you supposed to be watchin' each other's backs if you're goin' two totally different directions?!"

"Don't get on his ass," huffs Dutch. "He came back with food, didn't he?" poses Dutch, pointing at John.

"Yeah, and without Arthur!" you interject, trying not to panic.

"Arthur is fine," Dutch says, trying to speak calmly, as he can see your nervousness starting to get the better of you. "He always is."

"I'm sure he's fine," you say, taking a deep breath and trying to remain calm, "but you don't know that for certain." You stare at Dutch, silently pleading for him to do something other than stand there. When Dutch simply stares back at you defiantly, you've made up your mind. "To hell with this, I'm going to look for him," you mutter, turning towards the door.

"No, you're not," Dutch warns as he walks after you.

"Like hell I'm not!" you snap over your shoulder.

"Like hell you are!" Dutch argues, his voice getting louder and moving to put himself between you and the main door. "'Cause the minute you leave here, five minutes later he'll be walkin' through that door!" he gestures with his thumb. "And if he sees you're gone, or you get your ass in trouble, or something happens to you, I'd never hear the end of it. I'll tie you to a God damned chair if I have to!"  

You hesitate and lock eyes with the man before you. This plan doesn’t sit well with you at all, but with the weather, you know he's right. Your shoulders slump just a bit in resignation as you reluctantly give in to reason over your heart. "I can't just sit here and do nothing, Dutch", you say with a broken voice.

Sighing, "That's where you're wrong, (Y/N)," Dutch replies, his tone softer now and filled with sympathy for you. "'Cause that's exactly what you're going to do." He can be a cold man, but Dutch is fond of you and can appreciate the love between you and Arthur, as it reminds him of himself and his once beloved Annabelle.

"I'll go," offers Charles, stepping over to you and Dutch.

You turn your tear-glistening eyes to Charles, overcome with surprise and appreciation. "You will?" The robust man gives you a nod, placing his hand on your arm in consolation.

"What, so you can get lost, too?" pipes up Micah from the corner with a wave of his hand. "You're all crazy."

Dutch looks from Micah to Charles, raising his eyebrows with an expectant look. Micah has a point. Charles sighs, just ever-so-slightly. "I'll go out for an hour or so, see if I can find his tracks. If I pick up on him, I'll track him down. If I can't find a trace of him in a few hours, I'll head back. Fair?" he asks Dutch, to which the older man simply nods in agreement. He may be a rotten criminal, but to be honest, the idea of his adopted son lost in the frozen snow didn't sit to well with him, either. And he steps aside and let’s Charles out the door.

After a few hours, everyone hears the door rattle. Charles returns, but still no Arthur. When the burly man comes through the door, he instantly catches your eyes on him, but quickly averts his gaze in guilt. You slowly, quietly walk over to him with a blanket in your arms, ready to throw it around his broad, proud shoulders. "Sorry, (Y/N)," Charles says quietly. "I tried. I did. But I didn't see anything, not a sign." You say nothing, but simply nod in understanding. If anyone was going to find Arthur, it would be the best hunter/tracker in the gang. And even he couldn't do it. So unfortunately, all that you could do is sit and wait.

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

The next day is Christmas Eve. You've hardly slept all night as you see the first signs of the sunrise emerge on the horizon. You've been up sitting at the window, watching for Arthur and making sure a lantern was lit so that he could see a beacon through the snow, something to push forward to. You have an extra blanket at the ready, an endless pot of hot coffee and the fire stoked all night, waiting to welcome Arthur back into the warmth. Your mind raced all night with images of what kind of medical attention he would need and you wanted to be ready for it.

The snowstorm has stopped by the morning, yet you still sit at the window, staring out into the grey, hoping and waiting for some sign of your beloved. Morning carries into the afternoon, yet still no sign of Arthur. John and Charles both went out again for a few hours in vain to look, but to no avail, as the snow has begun to kick-up yet again as the afternoon falls.

Then suddenly, as your eyes continue to search through the frosted glass of the windowpane, you see that familiar shadow slowly lumbering through the snow. It is the unmistakable blue coat of Arthur's, lit by the lantern in his hand, and his huge, sturdy horse, Buck. Your eyes flutter to hold back your tears of relief. "Oh, thank God," you gasp in relief as you immediately jump up, throwing open the door. You dart out of the house, pulling your coat around you as you run. "Arthur!" you can't help but to holler to him across the yard. Arthur has finally returned and nothing else matters at this point in time. As soon as he recognizes you, a smile spreads across his tired and wind-chapped face. He’s frozen, that's for sure. Snow and ice is caked into his beard and his coat is plastered with white, but he is alive and in one piece. You run as fast as the powdered snow will allow and as soon as you're close enough to touch him, you throw yourself into his chest, hugging him tightly.

"What are you doin' out here in the cold," he chuckles into you hair as he deeply inhales your familiar scent like its his home, his arms folding you up against his chest. You can't even form the words to reply, as you are so overcome with relief. Hearing nothing but your sniffles in response to his question makes him pause and take in the state that you are in. 'Of course, she was worried', he thinks to himself. 'Damn fool, you keep forgettin' that.' “Hey, now, don’t be gettin' yourself all worked up over me. I’m alright," he insists, stroking your hair with his gloved fingers. "But if this is the kind of welcome I get, though, maybe I’ll stay out more often,” he teases.

Finally, you are able to get your mind together with Arthur's gruff voice ringing in your ears and pull back from him enough to look up at him. “You do and I’ll wrap my arms around your neck for a different reason than keeping you warm!," you half-heartedly threaten with a grin. You take a moment to take in his face, those features that you have been so desperate to lay your eyes on again. "Where have you been?!" you ask as you cup his face in your hands.

Arthur's chest rumbles with a faint chuckle, a gleam in his eye. "Oh, you can blame this big fella." He releases his grasp on you to turn to pat the hind-quarter of the 8-point buck draped across the rump of his horse. "John and I split up to cover more ground. I wasn't coming up with anything on my end, and then finally I saw this deer here. Had him in my sights, but couldn't bring him down. I tracked him, but he kept leading me further and further out." Arthur shakes his head as he recalls the last three days over again in his head. "I wasn’t about to let this meal get away from me, though," he grins at you. "A buck this size will feed all a'us for a few days. And I swear he knew I was comin’, too."

"Maybe he could smell you," jokes John as he and Charles have come out to greet Arthur and to help carry the carcass in. Arthur chuckles and nods at the joke at his expense. "Yeah, maybe."

"Glad to see you made back in one piece, brother." John claps him on the shoulder. "Yeah, same to you, John," replies Arthur warmly. For all their arguing and fussing, both men are happy to see the other safe and sound again.

"Come on," you say softly, tugging on Arthur's arm to pull him towards the house. "Let Charles handle the deer, and John can take care of Buck for you. Let's get you inside and by the fire. You probably can't even feel your feet by now." You smile up at him warmly and Arthur sinks into your care without resistance, as it is all he's been thinking of since he left, something to keep him pushing forward in the cold.

"Hell, I can't even feel my knees!" he jokes as he lets you lead him back to the house.

Charles brings the deer in under the overhang next to the house and quickly begins to skin and gut the animal. He cuts pieces of meat off the deer and brings them to Mr. Pearson who has already started to prepare food for Christmas Eve dinner. While Charles busies himself with the deer, you get Arthur into the house where its safe and warm. Upon entering, everyone greets Arthur, happy to see him return. After the initial round of "hello's", "what happened?", and hugs, Arthur takes a moment from all of the excitement to look around, noticing all of the decorations, and is pleasantly surprised by the cheerful atmosphere. "Wow, will you look at all this!" he says impressed. "Looks like you all been busy while I was out.".

"Just hush and get yourself over to that fire, would ya?" scolds Hosea, pointing at a stool by the fireplace with one hand, while pushing Arthur's shoulder with the other, ushering him in that direction.

As Arthur shuffles over to the hearth, your eyes begin to tear up as you watch him warm himself by the fire. You can't believe you are actually looking at him right now. You are scared to admit it, but you were having serious doubts if you would ever see him alive again. Noticing you sniffling and discreetly holding your hand over your mouth, he turns to you, his eyebrows knit together in concern. "Hey, now, what's this all about?" You just shake your head at him with a weak smile and wave him off, unable to speak. You are so overwhelmed by the relief to have him home again. He reaches out his strong arm to you as you walk over to him. "Come on, no, I told you I'm fine," he tries to reassure you again softly as he puts a hand on each of your arms, rubbing them slightly in an effort to offer you some comfort. All you can do is nod, looking down at his feet. He feels so bad for making you worry so. He lays a hand along your cheek, lifting your face up so he can see your glistening eyes. "Look, we can't have tears on Christmas, now. That just wouldn't be right."  And Arthur gives you that smirk of his, that one that you can't help but love.

As the evening carries on, everyone is getting along and there is little complaining. The room is comfortably warm with the large fire going, thanks to the firewood that Javier and Bill gathered. Soon enough, tonight's Christmas feast is served. With warm feet, full bellies, and everyone accounted for, there is much to be happy for. Everyone spends the evening eating, singing, and playing card games and dominoes. Some are snuggling up to each other by the fire. Even Micah is being pleasant and joins in on the festivities. With dinner finished and cleared, you suddenly ask for everyone's attention and announce that you have Christmas gifts for all. You disappear to one of the back rooms and emerge with a sack that is bulging with its contents. With a huge smile, you begin to hand out all of the items that you have spent months preparing for tonight. Among the gifts are:

Socks for Bill, a scarf for Lenny, a new red neckerchief for Micah; you commissioned a knife to be made for Javier, made your own arrows for Charles (made after he showed you how to do it); a new teapot for Hosea, a book for Dutch, a gilded hand-mirror for Molly, a writing pen for Mary Beth, a broach for Ms Grimshaw, new combs for Tilly, and mittens for Uncle. A hand-knit a shawl for Abigail, a new leather saddlebag for John and, of course, wooden toys for Jack, who is just so excited that he begins to play with the pieces instantly. Plus a few other items for everyone else as well.

"I’ve been working on this since August! A little at a time, but I managed to do it," you say proudly as you stand next to a seated Arthur whose arm is wrapped around your waist, keeping you close to him. "Do you know how hard it’s been to keep this all under wraps?"

"Is that why we’ve been lugging around that extra trunk with the lock on it?" Arthur asks, looking up at you, suddenly putting the pieces together in his mind. "Yep!" you quip with a huge smile. You look around the room, watching everyone enjoy their new gift, and you are so happy to be able to bring just a little joy to your fellow family members.

With everyone else taken care of, you finally turn towards your beloved. You give him a sly smile and an arched eye-brow as you reach down and take him by the hand, your smaller fingers lacing with his much larger ones. "Come with me," you say softly and you pull him up from the chair he's sitting in and head towards the door. Donning your coats, you take Arthur outside as the snow starts to fall again, but this time, its gentle and airy, not blowing and harsh like its been for the past few days. It’s dark out now, but the moon is full, casting a bright silvery light to dance upon the snow which shines and sparkles like billions of tiny diamonds. Its actually quite peaceful and beautiful, now.

"I haven’t forgotten about you," you say as you stop and turn to face him. "I’ve saved the best for last," a look of mischief upon your soft face. You reach down and take hold of his wrist, lifting it up to his chest level and open his hand to set a drawstring bag into his palm. Arthur gives you a quizzical look before he lets his fingers fumble with the soft fabric. He opens the little pouch and pulls out a silver disc.  

“A pocket watch?” he asks with a smile as he flips it around in his hand to admire the fine filigree etching that adorns its smooth surface.

"Open it," you reply simply, tilting your chin towards his hand slightly. He clicks open the item, pushing down on the top button to pop open the little door and sees the arrow and unmistakable markers of the cardinal directions. "It’s a compass," he confirms with a nod, his grin widening even more. (The irony of him holding a compass after being lost in the cold for the past three days isn't lost on him.)

"I know you lost yours in that poker game awhile back," you say, thinking back to a few months ago. "I tried to think of the perfect gift for my tireless wanderer." You cast your gaze from the compass in his hand to his beautiful blue eyes that catch the moonlight just so. "You know," as you lay your hands on his wrists as he holds the item between both sets of his calloused fingers, "The thing about a compass is, it doesn’t tell you where you are. It tells you where you’re going. So no matter where you are, Arthur, I hope you will always find your way back to me."

Arthur takes in your words and looks from the compass to your face. His heart swells so much he thinks it will burst. "I…I don’t know what to say." He is quiet for a moment, overwhelmed by your gesture. "I love you so, so much, (Y/N)." There is a tight knot in his throat, swollen with emotion. He holds your face with his large hand, his warm palm heating your chilled cheek. "But…I didn’t get you anything," he says, suddenly realizing it and feeling guilty.

"Says who?" you smirk. You reach your hands up to pull the collar of his coat up closer to his red cheeks to keep him warm. "You made it home alive and in one piece today. And all I want, all I’ve ever wanted, is you." Your large doe-eyes look up at him with such devotion that despite his ever-lingering self-doubt, Arthur can't help but to know your statement to be true. "In fact, I had a little chat with Dutch and told him that we’ll be “indisposed” for the next 48 hours." Your hands leave Arthur's wrists and snake their way around his torso and link together behind his back. When you do so, he brings his own arms around your shoulders to pull you in even tighter together. "So if you really want to give me a Christmas gift, Arthur Morgan, you will come with me into that cabin over there (tilting your head over towards one of the side buildings on the property that already has a fire glowing in the windows) and just... be with me, and only me." Secretly you can’t wait to see his reaction to how you've decorated your little nest for the two of you.

"I think I can do that," he confirms, touching his forehead to yours before pulling back again just enough to meet your gaze. "But I still don’t see how you’re making out on that deal," he jokes.

You smile and lift up on your toes to kiss his lips ever to gently. "Then I guess you’ll just have to improvise and think of something.”

You stand there together in the snow looking at each other, drinking each other in with mutually adoring eyes. You observe the fat snowflakes catch on each other's eye lashes and cheekbones, neither saying anything for a bit and risk ruining this perfect moment of contentment.

"Merry Christmas, Arthur."

"Merry Christmas, (Y/N)."

[itsgxsly]

CHAIN ‘ROUND MY NECK

Summary: Spending a Christmas vacation with your boyfriend and his family is simply the best.

Pairing: arthur leclerc x reader

Warnings: none

Word Count: 735

When Arthur asked you to go with him and his family on a trip for the Christmas holidays, you hesitated to say yes. It's not that you didn't feel like going with him, but you thought maybe you could bother there. But after much insistence from him, and taking into account that you had no plan for Christmas, you decided to accept the invitation.

Once on the trip you didn’t regret having said yes. You were enjoying yourself like never before and the Leclerc family had welcomed you with open arms as one of their family. During your stay there, you had spent time with Pascale, who treated you like another daughter and was delighted to spend time with you. The rest of the time you had spent with Charles, Lorenzo, and Arthur, skiing or having snowball fights. Although you weren't very good at skiing, the three brothers had been patient in teaching you until you could more or less handle yourself. Although you had had a painful fall in between.

Today was finally Christmas day and you were all gathered in the complex where you were opening the gifts you all had received. You had bought gifts for the entire Leclerc family, since you thought it was a nice detail to thank them for letting you spend Christmas with them, but you were pleasantly surprised when you realized that you also had gifts from them. You almost started to cry thinking about the fact of everything they were doing for you. Charles had been the last to receive and give his gifts, and now you were all resting peacefully in the living room, covered with blankets to keep the winter chill away. Arthur and you were in your own bubble focused on each other. You were curled up on his side, almost falling asleep from the heat that his body gave off next to his hand caressing your hair. You complained when Arthur stirred and pulled you away from him a bit.

"Sorry baby. I just want to get something” he told you as he put his hand in the pocket of his sweatpants. You looked at him confused as you watched him take out a box wrapped in red paper that was no bigger than your hand. Arthur saw your curious and confused face when you saw the box, so he proceeded to explain what it was.

"Before you get mad, I know you've already had your gifts and we both promised no surprises, but I still wanted to give you this" he put the box in your hand to let you open it.

You looked at him one more time before directing your gaze to the gift in your hands to open it. You tore off the paper that wrapped it and you found a box of what you assumed was jewelry. You looked at Arthur trying to get angry with him for buying something expensive, but he insisted with a gesture that you see what the box contained. Opening it, inside was a delicate gold necklace. From the chain dangled a charm with the letter A on it. You looked at Arthur moved by the gift.

"It's beautiful, Arthur" you hugged him and placed a kiss on his lips before looking back at the necklace, amazed at how beautiful it was.

"I know you like these things, and I also remembered that Taylor Swift song you're always listening to, the one with the initial on the necklace, right?" You nodded to tell him that he was right. You loved that Arthur remembered those silly details, like the words to a song you loved or your favorite food.

“I love the gift, love. I don't know how to thank you" you gave him another kiss. "But next time, you better not buy me more things on the sly, Arthur Leclerc" you warned him. You knew that he was not going to pay any attention to you, and he would end up giving you more gifts whenever he could.

Between your conversation, you didn't notice the rest of the family looking at both of you. They all agreed that you were the best thing that could have happened to Arthur and vice versa and they were so happy that you spent time with them. And maybe a years later, you'll start spending Christmas with them as an official member of the Leclerc family.

[beautifultypewriter]

The Second Day of Christmas ~ Arthur Shelby

Prompt: Seeing the first snowfall of the year

Pairing: Arthur Shelby x reader

Warnings: None

Word Count: 487

A/N: I actually really love how this turned out and I want to say thank you so much to the anon who requested a first snowfall with Arthur.

With a quiet groan, you rolled over in your bed, pulling out of the arms that had been wrapped around you. Slowly, you opened your eyes, closing them again almost instantly, but then they snapped open again. You sat up abruptly, your eyes moving to the window of your shared bedroom. A small smile spread across your face as you jumped up from the bed, narrowly avoiding the arms that had reached out to grab you again. Arthur groaned as he opened one eye to stare at you as you rushed around the room, pulling on a pair of old trousers and a knit sweater. Hopping on one foot, you pulled on a thick wool sock, your other foot bare still. Arthur groaned again as he pulled the blanket tighter around himself, a shiver passing through him, “Come back to bed. S’cold.”

You glanced back at him quickly as you pulled your other sock on, “Snow.” And then you were rushing from the room and down the stairs, taking them two at time. You nearly tripped on the last step, but gripped the banister tightly and pulled yourself up. Rushing to the back door, you grabbed your boots and hastily slid them on and pulled open the door. As soon as you felt the cold air on your skin, you slowed down. Beautiful, shining snowflakes were still falling around you and you spun slowly in your spot, closing your eyes and breathing in the crisp winter air. You heard the back door open and close and the crunching of snow beneath Arthur’s boots. Your spinning halted and you faced your husband, your smile growing at the sight of snowflakes sticking to his mustache.

Arthur stepped over to you, draping your coat over your shoulders, “Forget something?” He was trying not to smile, and you laughed, shoving your arms in the sleeves of the coat, and fastening the buttons. Leaning forward, you pressed a quick kiss to Arthur’s lips and grabbed his hand. Leaning back again, you let yourself fall into the snow, pulling Arthur with you. His eyes widened as he tried to stop himself from falling, but ultimately failed. He fell next to you, the snow sticking to his coat as he rolled over slightly to get up, but you held tight to his hand, smiling at him as the flurries continued to fall, landing in your hair, and melting against the warmth of your skin. Arthur looked down at you and smiled. He laid back, feeling the chill of the snow against his neck, but it quickly disappeared as your free hand moved to caress his cheek. Despite the weather, it was warm, and he melted into your touch, his eyes closing for a brief moment. When he opened them again, you were cuddled up to his side, looking up at the sky, snowflakes catching in your lashes and a warm smile on your face.

[runnning-outof-time]

A Kiss Under the Mistletoe | Arthur Shelby x Reader

Request: no - part of my Countdown to Christmas Event

Pairing: Arthur Shelby x reader

Summary: In which (Y/N) finally manages to make a move on her feelings for Arthur…and finds the perfect way to do it.

Warnings: none

Word Count: 1384

A/N: I’m rather happy with how this one came out. Not 100% sure if clubs like this one existed in Birmingham…my research was inconclusive. We’re just gonna pretend that they did. 9 days left y’all!! We’re in single digits now!! Enjoy! :)

Let me know if you’d like to be tagged in future stories similar to this one!

"Now ain't this something beautiful," Arthur commented as he and (Y/N) walked through the doors of the banquet hall.

"Says the person who didn't even want to join me tonight," (Y/N) responded to his statement with a giggle.

"I didn't," Arthur didn't bother to stray away from his previous feelings towards this event, "but now that I'm here...it sure is beautiful," he brought them back around to the initial comment.

"It is," (Y/N) had to agree with him, smiling as he offered her his arm so that he could escort her into the ballroom.

Tonight was the night of the Birmingham Women's Social Club's annual holiday party. Sarah, the appointed president, and the rest of the planning committee had put in a lot of hours of work in order to get this ordinary banquet hall to look like it was straight from some holiday catalog. Garland was wrapped everywhere, festive centerpieces were placed on the tables, and there was a large, beautifully decorated tree standing in the corner of the room.

"'M startin' to feel a little out of place," Arthur commented as they walked further into the party.

"You fit in just fine," (Y/N) assured him, patting his arm as they made their way over to the table they were assigned to. Just as they were going to sit, (Y/N) made eye contact with two of her friends, Lindy and Charlotte, who both had excited expressions on their faces. She knew that they'd want to talk to her. "Can you go and get us something to drink?" she asked Arthur, hoping that she could get him away before the ladies swooped in.

"Absolutely," he sounded relieved at the mention of something that was familiar to him, "I'll be right back," he smiled at her before he left her side.

Like (Y/N) predicted, Lindy and Charlotte were by her side moments later. "You brought him?!" Lindy was the first to speak up. (Y/N) instantly knew that she meant Arthur.

"It took some convincing, but I managed to get him to come," (Y/N) answered, a smile on her face. These girls have known about her crush on Arthur for some time now, and they were her biggest coaches when it came to getting her to admit her feelings to him.

"I bet he took one look at you in that dress and was all in," Charlotte said, a grin on her face. Her words made (Y/N)'s cheeks heat up.

"Stop it," (Y/N) brushed her friend's statement off, looking away from her.

"Look, you've gotta make your move tonight," Charlotte got back to business, her eyes telling (Y/N) that she meant what she was saying.

"Oh, I don't know..."

"No. No ‘I don't knows’. We're not letting you leave this party without admitting your feelings to that man," Lindy doubled down on Charlotte's words.

"That idea is absurd. He probably won't feel the same anyways," (Y/N) was still against it.

"Feel the same about what?" Arthur's voice came from behind (Y/N), almost making her jump out of her heels.

"N-nothing. I just um..." she rushed to cover up their conversation, quickly turning into a stuttering mess.

"Hi, Arthur," Charlotte greeted him, a smile on her face as she tried not to giggle at (Y/N)'s reactions. She had it bad for him...it was so easy to see. Lindy then echoed the greeting, stifling her laughter as well.

"Hello, ladies," he greeted both of them, "beautiful party you've got going on here," he then commented on the event while side-eyeing (Y/N). She was still standing stiff in her spot, looking like she was having an internal war.

"I know, it's so lovely," Lindy agreed, a smile on her face.

"We'll let you two be," Charlotte spoke up then, "see you around," she added, her eyes lingering on (Y/N), who was still trying to think of a way to get out of this bind smoothly.

The two women left then, and Arthur finally turned to (Y/N) with her drink in his hand. "Not sure if you'll like this, but it was the only thing that was remotely close to what you normally drink," he told her. (Y/N) nodded as she accepted the drink.

"Thank you, Arthur," she smiled as she took a sip, "it's not too bad," she told him then.

"Success," he grinned, taking a drink from his glass. "So what do we do at these types of things?"

"We go and mingle," (Y/N) responded nonchalantly, sipping on her drink again.

"Well let's get to it then, eh?" he suggested, his eyebrows raised. (Y/N) agreed with him, and the two decided to abandon their table for the crowds of other guests.

After an entire night of dancing and mingling, the party was finally winding down. Arthur and (Y/N) were about ready to leave, but not before Charlotte pulled (Y/N) off to the side.

"What, Char?" (Y/N) asked, her brows furrowed.

"Make sure you and Arthur go out that door," she said, pointing to the door she was referring to then.

"Why?" (Y/N)'s eyebrows were raised now.

"There's mistletoe," she told her, pointing again.

"And you think Arthur's gonna wanna kiss me?"

"Well why wouldn't he?" Charlotte countered. (Y/N) pursed her lips. She wanted so badly to contest her friend's statement, but she knew that it would be no use. "Go on. Kiss that man," Charlotte said a few moments later, giving her friend a slight push in the direction of where Arthur was.

"You're the one to blame if this goes up in flames!" (Y/N) called out as she walked away.

"Ready to go?" Arthur asked once she got to his side.

"Yes. You?" (Y/N) asked him, a smile on her face. Arthur only nodded in response before offering her his arm. "Let's go out this way," she said then, nodding to the door that Charlotte had pointed out.

"Did you enjoy your night?" he asked as they walked.

"I did," she responded with a smile. Hopefully this doesn't change everything, she thought to herself as they neared the door. "Did you?" she turned the question back on him.

"I did," he echoed her response, a smile present on his face as well. He then opened the door for her, holding it as he motioned for her to exit first.

She took a step to the doorway before stopping in her tracks. "Arthur, look," she said, pointing to the little branch that was hanging above them.

"Well I'll be damned," he said with a laugh as he noticed the mistletoe hanging above them.

"I guess you know what happens next..." (Y/N) trailed off awkwardly, wanting to kick herself for how she was acting.

"I do," Arthur nodded as he turned to face her.

"You'd want to kiss me?" she couldn't stop the shock from entering her voice.

He looked at her like she was crazy. "Why wouldn't I? I'd be stupid to pass up on the chance to kiss such a pretty girl," he told her, his smile growing as he spoke.

"Wait, really?" she was still in shock, her mouth slightly agape before she shook her head and snapped herself out of it, "I'm going to kiss you before I say anything else stupid," she announced then before she stepped forward and placed her hands on his shoulders. He followed suit, fastening his hands to her waist as they leaned in and met in the middle, their lips pressing together in a sweet kiss.

“You should know that I feel the same way,” Arthur breathed after they pulled away.

“You do?” (Y/N) asked, surprise present in her voice.

“Yeah. Just didn’t know when the right time to admit it would be,” he explained the predicament he’d been in prior to their kiss.

“I guess this mistletoe was perfectly placed for the both of us then,” she stated, her comment making Arthur chuckle slightly.

“I guess so,” he agreed with her then, “would you do me the honor of joining me for dinner sometime soon?”

(Y/N) knew her answer in a heartbeat, “I’d love to,” she said with a wide smile.

———

Tagged: @the-anxious-youth @mgcllovdrms @look-at-the-soul @mrsalwayswrite @julkaamazing @evita-shelby @lilyrachelcassidy @shelbydelrey @december16-1991 @onlydeadcells @peakyswritings @watercolorskyy @strayrockette @peakyduchesss @alexxavicry @stevie75 @dark-academia-slut @zablife @cillmequick @lovemissyhoneybee @letal-y-poetica @lora21 @just-a-blackhole @anotherblinder @christinasyellowflowers

MASTERLIST

Countdown to Christmas MASTERLIST

———

Divider by @/firefly-graphics

[unknowntoyou2205]

make it to Christmas 2/3

Info: Christmas for the Shelby clan were never special, but this year seems to be the worst as y/n the youngest has been diagnosed with the illness that takes many away, but y/n is adamant on giving the Shelby's something to remember her by.

Masterlist

Y/n lay in her bed, feeling tired yet energetic for the first time in weeks since her diagnoses. Many days she spent laying around, no energy for anything, barely able to eat anything substantial without throwing it back up. Her family were beyond worried for her and feared she wouldn't make it to the end of the year. They knew at this stage that their angel of light wouldn't recover from the deathly disease that took many, and they could only hope that she would see her favourite day of the year one last time.

Y/n herself knew that her days left were limited. At eleven years old she was a smart girl and knowing the results of her sickness being lethal, she wanted to make sure that her family would remember her, even when she was gone. She made it her mission to spend what little energy she had to find something for each family member, something that would cause them to remember the good times they had together. She wasn't aloud to leave her room unless she needed the bathroom, so all she had was what was in her room.

"How are you feeling today y/n?" Polly asked asked her niece as she walked into the isolated child's room with some soup. "Fine." The girl shrugged before looking up from her drawing to see the bowl in her aunts hand, "Soup again?" She groaned causing her aunt Pol to chuckle lightly. "Well nice to see your energy is back." The woman stated, even though she knew it was temporarily. "Can't I have something else for once?" The younger girl whined, moving her picture out of the way. "You know anytime you eat anything solid you get sick, this is only thing you can keep down." Her aunt replied before placing down the bowl on the bedside table and sitting beside the young girls feet as the girl slowly began to feed herself, hand shaking occasionally.

Polly watched her niece as she slowly fed herself, seeing the struggle she faced with each spoonful. The older woman sighed quietly, knowing the young girl didn't have much time left. Her little angel would be lucky to make it to Christmas, but she doubted it would be the new year. Pollys thoughts were disrupted when she heard coughing and looked up to see y/n slouched over, coughing up some soup. The young girls aunt tuts in comfort, taking the spoon out of her hand and replacing it with a tissue, which y/n placed to her mouth. Polly gasped as the tissue was brought back from the mouth to see blood on it. Y/n looked up horrified at the sight, wide eyes looking up at her aunt.

"It's okay." Polly comforted the girl, rubbing her arm gently before taking the half empty bowl and heading for the door, turning back to watch as the young girl rolled onto her side, falling asleep instantly. "Lord, watch over y/n as I pray she makes it till Christmas to enjoy her favourite holiday amen." Polly looked up before leaving the room.

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

Tommy and Arthur sat at the kitchen table, smoking a cigarette each in silence. John stood against the kitchen stove, a glass of whisky in his hand. No one spoke, just sitting in silence until they heard sounds of footsteps walking down the stairs. The two smoking stubbed their cigarette when they seen their aunt come into view, eyeing her as she remained silent while she walked over to the sink with a bowl, cleaning it.

"How is she?" John asked, wanting to know how her youngest sister was. "Pol?" Tommy called out to his aunt when she didn't reply. "She coughed up blood today." Was all Pol stated, not looking up at her nephews as she finished drying and putting away. "Fuck." Arthur cursed, each Shelby brother knowing what that meant. "Is she asleep?" Tommy asked. "Yes, she tired herself after her coughing episode, barely ate even half of the soup I gave her, her appetite and energy is getting worse Tommy, I don't think she has long left." Polly stated, causing the Shelby boys to look down. "Don't say that Pol, y/n's a fighter." John stated in a broken voice. "John she's up there in that room day in day out, her energy is zero to none most days. You really think that's a good thing. She's withering away to nothing, which isn't a god thing." Pol spoke harshly, causing John to flinch, "Time to face it, we're not going to get our y/n back, we just need to make sure she's comfortable till her last." Pol stated softly, and all shelbys present nodded in agreement.

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

That night Tommy made his way to y/n's room before heading to bed. Ever since she was little she always snuck in her older brothers room, and since she was sick and unable to, Tommy began to do it. He wanted to make sure that she knew he was there for her, even though majority of the time the young girl was asleep by the time he checked in on her. The second oldest moved closer to the youngest bed, despite the fact he knew that aunt Pol hated any of them being close to her incase they got the spanish flu, her reasoning being it was bad enough one of them had it without everyone else in the house getting it. He moved her hair back, feeling the heat she obtained from her fever. Looking away from her, Tommy seen a picture she drew and smiled slightly before looking back at his youngest sibling.

"You need to fight this y/n, we need you to last for your favourite holiday, it'll be the best one yet you'll see." Tommy spoke softly, kissing the girls head before moving towards the door

His movement was halted by the sound of abrupt coughing coming from behind him- his eyes widened as he heard chocking and turned around to see y/n sitting up, struggling to breath.

"Aunt Pol." He shouted loudly as he opened the bedroom door, before rushing back to help his sister.

Y/n continued to struggle to breath as Tommy reached her, and he moved behind her and helped her it up right, thumping her back gently to dislodge what was most likely phlegm stuck in her throat. He didn't look up as Polly came rushing into the room, her house coat thrown on in her rush to get to her nephews shouts. She gasps as she sees Tommy trying to help his sister with the phlegm, her eyes widening when the young girl finally does, thick green and bloody mucous flying out of her mouth followed by constant heaving. Tommy rubbed the young girls back as she got sick.

"This isn't good Tommy." Polly stated with sadness as she watched her niece lie in her brothers arms tiredly after her episode. "Call the family, tell them to drop everything and come home." Tommy stated as he rocked his sister gently as she fell back asleep. "She's not going to make it, is she Tommy." Polly asked in defeat. "We'd be lucky if she makes it to tomorrow." Tommy stated with a sigh, realizing how bad his sister was.

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

The following day the family gathered as Polly requested, and were currently in y/n's room, all sitting around her bed, Tommy had stayed with y/n after her episode while Pol called the family and told them to come to the house. They all knew by the call that y/n wasn't going to make it as they hoped

Polly sat at the head of the bed, watching y/n's face as sweat formed in beads, rolling down the young girls face, Arthur and John leaned against the wall, heads down in defeat as they realized that their sister was going to die from the one thing they couldn't protect her from. Ada sat with Finn on her knee, hugging the young boy close, not believing all that was happening while Finn sniffled into her chest, crying of the soon to be loss of his twin sister. Tommy was still lying with y/n, having not moved from his place after helping her earlier in the night. The Shelby family sat in silence just watching over the youngest as she struggled to breath properly, the silence only being disrupted by coughing before y/n's eyes opened

"Hey , it's okay." Tommy soothed the young girl, rubbing her arm in comfort. "Tommy." The girl stated weakly, voice barely audible. "Yeah, it's me, how you feeling." Tommy asked, watching as y/n's eyes fluttered consistently. "Tired." Was all she got out before closing her eyes again. "Hey y/n, keep your eyes opened." John stated, wanting her sister to stay awake in fear of her not opening her eyes again. "Can't, so tired." Y/n stated, not able to fight the heaviness in her eyes. "Y/n sweetie, it's okay, you can rest now." Pol spoke, tears in her eyes as she spoke. "Under, bed." Y/n stated, "Love you." She stated before closing her eyes.

The Shelby family watched as the youngest eyes closed for the last time before listening to her breathing slow before it's non existent. Tommy brought a finger to y/ns neck to feel a pulse before shaking head in sorrow, putting it down when he couldn't find one. Finn started shouting for y/n causing Ada to pull him close to try and ease his hurt, tears in her own eyes as she allowed them to fall, Arthur punched the wall in anger before John had to force him out of the room, tears in both their eyes. Polly stared at her niece with glossy eyes, not believing she was truly gone. The Shelby family had lost their angel, and Christmas wasn't Christmas without her.

[fleckficgirl]

Arthur Under the Mistletoe 🎄

Summary: You throw a party on Christmas Eve that doesn’t go as planned...but in the very best of ways. Extremely fluffy oneshot and the title speaks for itself :)

Warnings: mental illness

Word Count: 2087

Notes: I was inspired by @jokerownsmysoul​‘s recent post about who she’d kiss under the mistletoe. Obviously, I’m choosing Arthur Fleck as well! Be sure to listen along to the Christmas album hyperlinked in the story, too. Hope you enjoy ❤️❤️

“This is a disaster!” you wailed. “Why did I think anyone would ever come to my party?”

Your tear-filled eyes finally overflowed and you buried your face in your hands.

You realized what a sight you must be: young woman in a sparkly pink party dress and white heels, sitting in her own empty apartment, crying unconsolably...and on Christmas Eve, no less. 

Throwing this party was an idea you’d discussed with your therapist a couple weeks prior. You hadn’t thrown a party since childhood, but the idea had sparked your imagination. Deciding you were going to be more outgoing and invite people over for the first time since you moved to Gotham six months ago had gotten your creative juices flowing. 

You'd invited everyone on the eighth floor, including some of the neighbors downstairs you'd chatted with a couple of times. Now you laughed ruefully at yourself for having gotten so excited about decorating the apartment, planning a menu, music and games....only to be stood up by everyone at your own party.

This gathering was supposed to make you feel less alone. But now you felt more lonely than ever. 

You glanced around your festive living room and kitchen. You’d decorated the walls with Christmas garland. A Jolly Christmas from Frank Sinatra was playing on the record player. A full bowl of punch sat in a large, untouched crystal bowl on the coffee table, along with cookies, cake, chips and finger sandwiches. 

And mistletoe. You’d bought mistletoe and placed it over the front door. You’d also gotten dressed up and put makeup on (which wasn’t the easiest thing to do when dealing with depression). But the party had been set to start at seven and it was now a quarter past eight. The writing was on the wall: no one was coming. 

You stood up from the sofa, figuring it was time to start cleaning up. Dejectedly, you made your way over to the record player and turned it off, knowing the joyful, nostalgic tunes would only depress you further. 

A small knock at the door made you jump out of your skin. You froze. Had you actually heard that, or was it your imagination? Afraid of what might be on the other side, you tiptoed to the door and peered through the peephole. 

Was that....Arthur Fleck? From 8J down the hall?

You'd run into him a couple of times in the elevator, but only spoken once, during the garbage strike earlier that year. He was shy and sweet. And beautiful. So beautiful, in fact, that you’d gotten completely tongue tied around him...had found yourself blathering some incoherent nonsense about how pretending that the streets smelled like pine needles - your favorite scent - was the only thing keeping you sane through the strike. 

Deep in the back of your mind you'd hoped he would show up tonight. You wiped the tears from your eyes - not wanting him to see you see you upset - and opened the door.

The sight of him now almost made your heart leap into your throat, and you had to remind yourself to breathe. Arthur was wearing a crisp blue cardigan, and his beautiful brown hair was combed back in loose curls. He’d dressed up for the party and looked even more handsome than you’d remembered. 

“Hi, Arthur,” you squeaked.

“Merry Christmas, Y/N.” Arthur held up a small wrapped gift with a bow on it. “Sorry I’m late. I had a gig that ended at seven and raced back over here to change first.”

“Don’t be sorry,” you replied, letting him inside. “You’re...actually the only one who showed up.” 

Arthur stepped into your living room and spun around, surprised. “I’m the only one here?”

“Yeah,” you nodded, trying not to break into tears again. “So if you don’t wanna stick around, I understand.”

“But everything looks so beautiful.” Arthur pointed at the garland on the walls. “And you look...especially nice tonight.” He stepped over to the record player. “I love this album. Do you mind if I put it on?”

You sniffed. “Wait...you mean...you wanna stay?”

“Only if you don’t mind having me.”

You shook your head. You were still reeling with disappointment - this wasn’t at all the party you’d imagined - but you were grateful that at least one person had showed up. Even more grateful that that person was Arthur. 

“Please stay,” you responded, a small smile spreading over your face. “I’d love it if you stayed.” 

Arthur beamed and turned the record player back on.

“Can I get you some punch?” you offered, moving towards the coffee table. 

“Sure!” His eyes lit up, almost glittering. “Except, if it has alcohol in it I really shouldn't mix that with my medications...”

“Nope, alcohol-free,” you smiled as you poured him a glass. “And feel free to help yourself to any of the snacks.” 

Arthur took the glass from you and sat next to you on the sofa. “What made you want to throw a Christmas party?”

“Well,” you mulled the question over. “I've been feeling kinda down...kinda lonely. I have some...problems with depression.”

“I know what that feels like,” Arthur said. “To feel lonely, I mean. And sad.” 

“I can get extra sad around the holidays,” you continued. “And I couldn’t fly home to see my family this year. So I thought...maybe I could invite people over. Maybe I’m not the only one who has a hard time at Christmas.” 

"Well I’m glad you threw the party. And I'm really glad you invited me,” Arthur smiled, shyly placing his hand over yours. "When I got your invitation, I knew there was no way I'd miss it.”

“Well, I’m sorry it’s not much of a party,” you lamented. “I guess it's official: all my neighbors hate me. Except you.”

“They don't hate you,” Arthur countered. “They probably just had other plans.”

You paused, taking a thoughtful sip of punch. “You're right,” you nodded. “That's black and white thinking. My therapist tells me I tend to do that. Just because they didn't show up tonight doesn't mean they hate me.”

“You see a therapist?” Arthur cocked his head to one side. “So do I. But all she ever asks me is if I’ve been having any negative thoughts.”

“All I have are negative thoughts!” you joked. Arthur laughed.

“Do you want to open your gift?” he asked. “You don’t have to,” he added quickly. “I read in an etiquette book I got from the library that you're not supposed to open gifts in front of other guests at a party.”

“Well, seeing as how there are no other guests!” you quipped before pausing to raise a sly eyebrow at him. “You checked an etiquette book out from the library?”

“Yeah,” Arthur smoothed back his hair self-consciously. “Well...a party etiquette book. The truth is, I've never been invited to a Christmas party before. Or any parties, really. I wanted to make sure I didn't mess anything up.” 

Giddy at the thought of him sweetly taking the time to research how to behave at your party, you pulled his small gift off the coffee table and held it in both hands. The wrapping was a candy cane pattern and the bow was a simple green shiny ribbon. In that moment you felt that you'd never seen anything so beautiful in your life.

“You wrapped this yourself?”

“Yeah,” he replied sheepishly. “I’m not that good at wrapping, but...I hope you like it.” 

“I love it!” you blurted.

“You don’t even know what it is yet!” Arthur laughed.

Carefully, you peeled away the scotch tape on the side and tore back the wrapping to reveal a small, green candle. Snow-Covered Pines, the label read. 

“I remembered that one time you and I talked in the elevator. You said you liked the scent. Anyway, I saw it at the drugstore and...I thought of you.”

“You remembered that?” Your heart fluttered, feeling embarrassed by the memory all over again, but also touched. “Thank you, Arthur. I love it so much.” 

Arthur was an extremely easy person to talk to. Conversation with others wasn’t something that always came naturally to you, but with him it felt effortless. The next time you glanced back up at the clock, you were shocked to see it was almost ten. 

“Should I put on another record?” Arthur offered as the last song on the Frank Sinatra album spun to an end.

“Sure!” 

Arthur stood up. “You have all the greats here,” he hummed as he mused over your record collection. He selected Nat King Cole’s Christmas album, carefully placing the record onto the turntable before sliding Frank's back into its sleeve. 

“This is my favorite Christmas song!” you clasped your hand to your chest as the familiar notes of the first song poured over your ears. 

Chestnuts roasting on an open fire...

“Mine too,” Arthur paused, looking shy. 

“We have a lot in common, Arthur,” you beamed. 

“Did you...did you want to dance?” he asked in a soft voice. “With me?”

You felt your heart start to pound again. “Yes...” you answered. “Except I’m really bad at it. I might step on your feet.” 

“Well,” Arthur said. “There’s no one here to see you be bad at it. Except me.” 

He extended his hand and helped you up off the sofa, pulling you in close as you moved around your living room together. 

“Wow, Arthur,” you murmured after a moment, surprised at the grace in his movements. “You’re a really good dancer.” 

“I know,” he said with mock overconfidence. You laughed and swatted his shoulder. He dipped you. The song ended, but he didn’t let you go. You never wanted him to, wishing this night - the same evening you’d been so eager to forget just a couple hours earlier - would never come to an end. 

“Hey,” Arthur hummed softly after you’d danced a few more songs. “I'm having a great time...but I should really get back to my mother. I’ve gotta help her get ready for bed.”

You paused, disappointed to see him go, but more than happy that things had turned out exactly as they had tonight.

“I had a really wonderful evening, Y/N. I'm glad I got the chance to talk to you.”

“Me too,” you replied. “If everyone else had shown up, I don't know if you and I would have gotten to talk as much as we did.”

You walked Arthur to the front door. He stopped and turned to face you once more. You paused before moving to open the door for him.

“Hey, Arthur,” you said in a small voice. “It looks like we're standing under the mistletoe.”

Arthur blinked and looked up. "Oh," he swallowed, a blush spreading across his face.

“Did your book say what people are supposed to do when they’re under the mistletoe together?” 

Arthur nodded, throwing his eyes to the floor. “Yeah," he said, “they’re supposed to kiss each other.”

“Are you gonna kiss me, Arthur?”

“I'd like to...” he hummed. “But only...only if you want me to.”

“I want you to."

He was shy at first, trembling slightly as he brought his lips to yours. But once you were united in the embrace, the both of you seemed to relax. His arms wrapped around you, his hand moving to delicately cup the side of your face. Arthur’s lips were even softer than you had fantasized. His skin was warm, his cologne flooded your senses. 

“Merry Christmas, Arthur,” you blushed as the two of you came apart. Your mind was spinning and you felt weak in the knees. 

“Merry Christmas, Y/N.” His eyes were closed, slowly fluttering open as he took your hands into his.

"Maybe....maybe after your mom goes to bed, you could come back and...we could watch The Murray Franklin Show on TV together."

Arthur stared back at you. “You watch the Murray Franklin show?” he asked, eyes wide and incredulous. “I’ve been watching him for years.” 

“So have I. It's his Christmas special tonight, you know.”

“I’d love to watch the holiday special with you.” Arthur’s eyes sparkled. "I'll come back after I finish up at home and we can watch it together.” 

You opened the door for him, lingering in the doorway as he stepped into the hall.

"Oh, and...Arthur?"

"Yes?" he paused, turning to face you.

“Thank you.”

Arthur smiled. "What for?"

"For making my Christmas so special."

Notes: Wishing you a safe & happy holiday season. Thanks so much for reading ❤️❤️ 

[where-dreamers-go]

"First Kiss" Arthur Claus x Reader

(A/N: A little Arthur Claus for the holiday season!

Warnings: there's a kiss.

Word Count: ..?)

~~~

Home after the holidays. Time to destress, clean, take down decorations, and clean again.

Garland really could be a pain with its shedding. But that's what vacuum cleaners were for. Yours was at the other end of the room to avoid tripping or other hazards.

These looked really good up here, you thought as you stood on one of the ladder's steps.

A long stand of holiday lights were being unhooked and fed down to your partner's open arms.

"Still doing all right, Arthur?" You asked.

"Yes." Arthur answered with a smile and lights piled in-between his arms.

"We're almost finished with this one."

"Good -- I mean, as long as you get down from the ladder in one piece." A wave of worry framed his tone.

"That's the plan." You pulled more of the stand toward you from along the wall. Just a little more--."

"Ah!"

Zipping out of your grasp and down, the remainder of the stand fell.

"Arthur?" You looked down beside the ladder in alarm. "Oh."

What you saw put a smile on your lips.

From head to toe, Arthur Claus was tangled in a mess of holiday lights. Blinking innocently up at you, a bubble of laughter erupted.

His loud laughter, breathing in air, made you grin.

"Goodness, Arthur." You made your way down the ladder carefully.

Swiping a couple of lights away from his face, his bright smile remained on his lips. It warmed your heart to no end.

"Oh, Arthur," you leaned closer, "I adore you."

Gently, you pressed your lips to his for a brief moment.

Arthur's face flushed as red as a holiday ornament. His smile reappeared tenfold.

"Are you okay?"

Nodding, he went to reach for your hands, but fumbled more of the lights.

"Sorry."

"No need. It'll take more than that to do any damage to them." You said as you pulled a loop of them over his shoulder. "I'm more concerned about you. Your face is burning brightly."

"Maybe," Arthur shuffled closer in his patterned socks, "if you'd like, you could kiss me again?"

"If you would like?"

"Yes. I would."

His face seemed to grow redder.

How could you say 'no' to the light of your life?

[cowboydisaster]

Hi again! Thought of another one….

Arthur finds out that reader has a gift for him for Christmas but he hasn’t gotten them anything. So he has to scramble to think of a gift. He ends up making a handful of drawings of reader including some with their beloved horse. And of course reader is over the moon about it

This one isn’t too clever so if you’re not feelin’ it, it’s ok.

🎄❤️

* ˚ ✦ Icebreak * ˚ ✦

pairing: arthur morgan x f!reader word count: 720 a/n: Just a cute lil' drabble. Merry Christmas' eve! Thank you for another really cute prompt!!

cowboydisaster's christmas countdown: ONE day 'till christmas!

christmas countdown┊main masterlist┊rdr2 masterlist

Arthur distinctly remembers the conversation in which you’d both agreed that you wouldn’t be exchanging gifts this year. Alarm bells are going off in his head. Was he supposed to get you a gift anyway? Should he have ignored that conversation entirely? Been a gentleman and got you something nice? Arthur swallows thickly. 

Despite the conversation, Arthur had just found out that you have a gift for him. Sadie has a loud mouth, especially when she’s drunk, and for once, Arthur is grateful for it. At least he has a little time to think of something. He pulls his pocket watch out, glancing at the time. 6:27 PM. A little time. 

In a rush, Arthur jogs into his tent, pulling his journal out of his satchel and placing it on the bed. Beside it, he tosses down a piece of charcoal and a pencil. The camp isn’t in a great financial situation; hence the agreement of no presents. So, he reckons if he can’t buy you something, he’ll just have to make you something. 

Arthur begins drawing, and after a while, the sun fades away, forcing him to switch to lantern light. The side of his hand is caked in lead as he runs the pencil over the pages, capturing the curves of your body, the shine of your smile. He draws his favorite memories of you. The day he gifted you your mare, Sugar. The day you kissed him for the first time. The day he’d brought you to camp. 

Arthur stays up far too late, sketching a handful of pictures of you, taking his time to capture you in the utmost detail. His hand flicks perfectly, catching the waves in your hair, the line of your jaw. Arthur draws you with your mare, with his gelding, with him. 

The group of drawings encapsulate the things that you love the most, and the memories that you hold dear. After finishing half a dozen good drawings, Arthur inspects them, fixing little mistakes, and adding little notes about his love for you. When he’s finished, he takes some old baling twine, tying a little bow around the pages, fixing them until they’re all wrapped up perfectly.

He knows you deserve better, a bracelet of silver or gold. A necklace embedded with gemstones, or a new dress. Those are the things you would have been gifted back in the city. He sighs, looking down at his little homemade gift, knowing that it will just have to do.

— — —

“Alright,” Arthur whispers, pulling out the ribbon-wrapped sketches, “Go on n’ open ‘em.” 

Your eyes open slowly, drifting to the white pages that Arthur is extending out to you. 

Hesitantly, you take them, eyes searching up to Arthur’s for reassurance. He nods, and you smile, pulling the twine ribbon, letting it spiral to the floor. You flip the first paper, recognizing it as being ripped out from Arthur’s journal, and you gasp. 

It’s a beautiful sketch, one of you sitting up in bed, hair draped down your back, a graceful smile on your lips. Even through paper and pencil, Arthur has managed to capture the sparkle in your eyes, the optimism in your countenance. Next to the drawing is a small note. 

Early mornings with my lady.

Your heart warms, and you flip to the next one. You find a sketch of you, laying on the back of your beloved mare, arms wrapped around her neck. The drawings are stunning. Works of art that should be posted in a gallery in Saint Denis, and he’s giving them to you. You know how private Arthur is with his journal, and you’re honored.  

“You like ‘em?” Arthur asks, nervous of your silence as you continue to look through. Tears pool in your eyes as you look up to him, holding up some of the precious gifts. 

“You drew me. Arthur,  I love them.” Sincerity is thick in your voice, and Arthur wipes a tear away from your cheek. 

“Didn’t wanna make you cry.” He jokes. You huff. 

“They’re so beautiful, so meaningful. No one’s ever done anything like this for me. Not in my whole life— not before you.” You whisper. 

Arthur’s arms wrap around you then, pulling you into his chest, shushing away your sniffles. 

“They’re perfect, Arthur.” You murmur against him. He smiles. 

“Merry Christmas, darlin’.”

taglist: @margofiore @mrsarthurmorgan7 @woman-with-no-name @tillith @luvliewriting @pine4pple-b0i @photo1030 @dudsparrow @holyratrimony @twola @calcarius445

[a-writer-on-elm-street]

Snowball Fight

pairing: arthur havisham x gn!reader

summary: you and arthur end up having a snowball fight and he actually enjoys himself for once.

a/n: thank you so much anon for requesting this. it was so much fun to write! i hope you like it! <3

The cold breeze bit at your cheeks as you approached your friend, the snow crunching under your feet with every step. Arthur hadn't spotted you yet, as he was just leaving his lodgings, but you'd spotted him as you were walking along the path.

You probably should've called his name to get his attention, that's what any ordinary person would've done. But instead you crouched down, gathering a handful of snow between your hands, before launching a snowball at him, the compacted lump of snow hitting him right on the shoulder.

You couldn't help the quiet chuckle that left your lips as he turned around, very clearly annoyed that you'd thrown a snowball at him.

"I'm sorry, remind me again how old you are, (y/n)?" He scowled, although his pale skin paired with his reddened nose made him appear slightly less intimidating than he'd initially intended.

"How else was I meant to get your attention?"

"Certainly not like that."

"Oh, don't be such a grump Arthur."

"Alright." He simply said, before turning and gathering his own handful of snow.

You barely even had time to react before he launched a snowball at you. And you were surprised to say the least, especially considering his lips were now twisting into a grin, which was a rare look for Arthur.

"You're going to regret that." You smirked, quickly retrieving another handful of snow and sending it his way.

And before you knew it, you both found yourselves in the midst of a snowball fight, right in the middle of the street. Your stomach was beginning to hurt from laughter, and Arthur was smiling the widest you'd ever seen him.

You paused for a moment to simply take it in, your own mouth pulling into a grin as you looked at him.

"What?" He asked, puffs of cold air leaving his lips as he watched you.

"Happiness looks good on you, Arthur."

[Main Masterlist] [Arthur Masterlist] [12 Days Of Christmas Masterlist]

[jokerownsmysoul]

You and Arthur are decorating your tiny lovely apartment for Christmas, coating every corner with decorations either homemade or bought in the thrift shop. Excitement runs through you when you catch the mistletoe at the bottom of the box where you keep all the decorations while you're emptying it out. You grab it and hide it behind your back as you reach Arthur over. When you're finally a few inches away, you hold it up above your heads with a coy smile, eyes sparkling wide filled with the happiness only being able to experience Christmas with Arthur can give you, waiting for him to take the playful hint and connect his lips to yours. Joy fills the hollow of his dimples, twinkles in his eyes brighter than the Christmas lights as he kisses you under the mistletoe. A old-fashioned gesture and ever sweeter kiss, a stolen moment embedded with romance that you know will be the first of many other more to come during the holiday season. This simple moment on a snowy Sunday afternoon is enough for you to know that this is going to be a very wonderful merry Christmas celebrated together 🤎

[margowritesthings]

Christmas on the Ranch with Arthur Morgan would include...♡

✦ During the first Christmas you and Arthur shared on your ranch after getting out of the gang, neither of you knew what to do with yourselves

✧ It had been so long since either of you had anywhere to truly call home, you weren't entirely sure what to do

✦ It was a pretty sad reminder of all the pair of you have missed out on in life while living as outlaws

✧ One night, you arrive home to find string lights- just like the ones in San Denis, Arthur!- and holly lining your beautiful home, as well as the barn, stables and the surrounding trees. It takes your breath away, tears glistening in your eyes as Arthur proudly drags you around your land to show you his handiwork

✦ The next day, he takes you to a winter fair nearby. You buy decorations and wreaths galore, even stockings for your fireplace (You still can't believe you actually have a fireplace to hang them from, to be honest, and Arthur finds it absolutely adorable when you realise the fact when he's paying)

✧ There are fir trees on your ranch, so it feels pretty special when you go out to find the perfect one. Arthur cuts it down while you watch, steaming cup of coffee tucked safely into your freezing hands

✦ After teasing you about your laziness, there is an inevitable snowball fight. You win.

✧ Freezing cold and soaking wet, you head home and huddle together by the fireplace before decorating your tree with your new decorations. A tradition ensues.

✦ You both basically hibernate over the holiday period. You care for the animals and occasionally head out to hunt or buy supplies, but life becomes a cozy little festive bubble

✧ There is mistletoe EVERYWHERE. Blame Arthur.

✦ He hides it in the most random places to ambush you with kisses. It almost always ends in other ways...

✧ Arthur builds you a sled. Then builds you another one when he crashes the first one into the lake

✦ For Christmas, you have his hunting rifle engraved with both of your initials, along with a carving of a buck and a doe. He gives you a sketch of the two of you together.

✧ You fill his stocking with cigars, little bottles of cigarettes and that one cigarette card he's been looking for forever

✦ Inside your stocking, there are your favourite sweets, a beautiful locket and letters from Arthur. You cry.

✧ Every year, you make each other stockings. It's your favourite tradition.

✦ Arthur hunts the turkey and you cook it. He's not the best in the kitchen when it isn't a campfire in the middle of the woods, but he is great at gathering the perfect herbs and spices

✧ You end the day all wrapped up in blankets on the porch, watching the snow fall on the ranch. Your ranch.

✦ It's all very overwhelming, the realisation that this is your life now. A home, a family, Arthur. Everything has fallen into place. How could you possibly want anything more for Christmas?

tagging: @cowboydisaster @cassidylynnj @counteveryfreckle @reaveries @elifsukirdaghehe