Hi can I please request a fluffy Arthur Guinness x fem!reader ?
One where reader and Arthur are married. Arthur is in a bad mood, stressed with the campaign etc and just being grumpy with everyone around him. People get sick of it and it falls to reader to calm him which he does because he's just a man in love blah blah blah 😍
In the good and in the bad
Pairing: Arthur Guinness x F!reader
Summary: the request
AN: this is my first Arthur Guinness request, I hope you like it! Also, requests remain open, if anyone wants to send anything, don’t be a stranger!
The sounds of Arthur’s yells were reaching all of the rooms in the Guinness household, making all members stiff and ready to flee if they were to be encountered with the furious firstborn son of Benjamin Guinness. Ever since the funeral and the reading of the will, Arthur Guinness and his wife, Y/N Guinness née McCallister were still trying to adapt to not being the only people in their home. After five years in London, the couple of Dubliners were remembering how boring this city was, as opposed to the capital they had been living in. It was an undeniable fact that Iveagh House was far larger than the home they had bought in London, but it was theirs, decorated how they wanted, and with the staff they wanted.
Y/N, after listening to the reading of the will beside her husband, had decided to show a strong front for the sake of their sanity. Arthur was counting on taking his father’s seat in parliament, going back to the home they had made on their own and starting with kids (more for the entertainment he found in outspoken children than the idea of heirs), but that had been completely shattered when Benjamin had shackled both sons together, intertwining Arthur and Edward for the foreseeable future. Y/N had decided to take the radical change with as much grace as she could muster, but it was true that some days were harder than others. Luckily for her, today she had woken up in good spirits, counterpointing her husband's outbursts on the other side of the building.
Sitting on a chaise lounge with knitting needles in her hands, she had been working on a small blanket for Anne’s baby, whose existence had been known a few weeks prior. The white wool was a perfect color for the child, but the piece kept wrapping into itself, making her somewhat frustrated at the shape it was taking. While she was stretching the knit, Anne barged into the room, closing the door as quickly as possible. Both women looked at each other, the older one shaking her head and the younger smiling softly.
“I swear he has become worse as time passes.” Anne moved away from the door, walking to sit on the other side of the chaise. “How have you been doing this for five years?” Y/N left the knit on her lap, shifting to face her sister by law and her closest friend in Iveagh.
“This has just started, London has been completely different.” Anne scrunched her face, confusion evident in her pale features.
“He is the same as he was before you left, but somehow worse.” Y/N shrugged, not fully knowing what to say.
“I mean- We had a low-stress lifestyle in London, his only possible chance to anger was cricket or the result of the horse races. Now he feels suffocated, none of you have gotten out of the will what you expected.” She picked up a small piece of lint from her skirt, black thread that was possibly his. “And now the campaign isn’t going as he expected, so this is how he is externalising it.” Anne looked at her with a bewildered look. “I will talk to him.”
“Honestly, the Guinness name is only alive because of the two of us. Leave it to the three of them, with Rafferty, to destroy the family.” Y/N picked up her knitting again, starting to twist the yarn in the familiar fashion her mother had taught her.
Comfortable silence engulfed them, Anne taking out of her small pouch a book of prayers that she had gotten from the church. Not long had passed before a sound of something coming into impact with a wall made both women look up from their distractions. They looked at each other and sighed. Footsteps that were moving at a quick pace became louder by the second, the owner of such movements clearly running down the hallway.
Edward stormed into the room, looking at both women and then focusing on her brother’s wife. “He has lost all control.” Closing the door behind him and standing in front of the woman, he crouched down to meet her gaze. “Between the election and the brewery, he has lost it, Y/N, I swear.”
Y/N looked at Edward, knowing what he was asking of her. “You want me to go?” He nodded solemnly. “Where is he?”
“In dad’s office.”
Standing decisively, Y/N left the baby blanket on the coffee table beside the chaise, walking to grab the door. Once her hand was touching the handle, she turned to both siblings. “If we don’t show up for supper, don’t expect us.” She smiled one last time and swiftly moved to where the sounds of crashes were coming from.
On her way there, she encountered one of the maids walking away from the office, and she gently stopped her. “Mary, how is he?”
Big brown eyes met hers, doe-like with shock coating them. “He demanded I leave the room. I have never seen him this angry.” Nodding, she gently thanked Mary and left her to keep walking towards her objective.
The tall mahogany door was closed, but in its state it couldn’t stop the sounds that were coming from the room. She wondered if she should knock, but she quickly got rid of that thought – what help would that be? Opening the door, she was met with her husband’s back, shoulders pulled back and his upper body moving to his deep ragged breaths.
“I said to get out.” His tone had progressively gotten louder with every word he said, ending the sentence with a shout.
Y/N rolled her eyes and sat on one of the chairs near the entrance, beside the world globe that showed perfectly New York and Dublin. “It’s only me, Arthur.” Recognising her voice, the man turned around to face her.
“Oh.” He walked tentatively closer to her while he was visibly trying to calm down. Finally nearing her, he spoke again. “We live surrounded by idiots.”
Usually, when Arthur would speak like this of his family, Y/N would first negate that thought, pointing out the virtues of his siblings, but this time, something told her that that wasn’t the subject of importance. Noticing the poster split in half, she stood to walk to it, passing Arthur in the process.
“Why do you have an Abe Lincoln propaganda poster on the floor?” Even if that had been one object of his ire, the fact that his wife had thought the same exact thing made Arthur smile gently. “It's not Lincoln.” Moving her head to the side to get a better view, she snickered, “It’s you?”
She turned only her head to look at him, a soft laugh leaving her mouth. He walked forwards to stand behind her, his arms wrapping around her waist and leaning his head on her shoulder. “My thoughts exactly.” Y/N responded by putting her hands over his, which were placed on her lower stomach. “This Byron bastard is not as competent as he sold himself to be.”
“Well, I have eyes that work and I think I know the basics for a good campaign poster, we will fix that eventually.” She was about to move to reach for the discarded piece of paper, but her husband’s tightening grip stopped her movements. “I only want to get it, love.”
“Leave it there, it doesn’t deserve your attention.” Y/N felt his lips move against her shoulder ,muting slightly the sound of his voice. “But I do.”
“Do you?” She felt his nose and moustache tickling her neck, the result of him pressing her face deeper against her skin.
“Don’t be like that.”
“Like what?”
“Mean.” She shifted in his arms, moving completely to face him. Arthur moved to place his head where it was, but Y/N held him away from her by his shoulders.
“Mean is what you have been to everyone in this house.” Arthur groaned, rolling his eyes. “You have made the atmosphere stiff and unwelcoming for your siblings and our staff.” He shrugged her off him to go and sit on the loveseat near the table with the bottle of whisky. Once he was sat, he patted the space beside him, signaling that he wanted her to join him.
She crossed her arms, unknowingly emphasising her bust more, which made Arthur smile at her attempt to be imposing. Taking a deep breath and letting a small smile reach her lips, she moved forwards to join him. Immediately after she sat down, Arthur was already moving to place his head on her lap, using her legs and her skirts as a cushion. Making himself comfortable, Y/N thought of the similarities between Arthur and a cat, but didn’t bother vocalising them. Once he had stopped moving his head to find the perfect spot, she placed her hand in his hair, playing with the brown curls that had already broken from their brushed state.
“I miss home.”
“You are home.” Arthur moved once again, this time to look into her eyes.
“I mean our home, the house we bought and put so much time into it for it to be ours.” He grabbed her hand to play with her fingers. “Every single time I wake up in the mornings, I can’t stop thinking about this not being what I promised you.” He kissed her knuckles. “I told you that we were going to leave Dublin, that we would live in London, that we would travel the world before we settled down to have kids.” He grabbed her other hand and shifted again to his side, so that she had her arms wrapped around him. “I feel like I have trapped you. I know I have trapped you. And I always think I should send you home, where you belong, but then I realize that that would take me away from you, and I selfishly make you stay with me.”
“In the good and in the bad, Arthur.” Now he laid perfectly still. “That’s what I promised you, darling. In the good and in the bad.” She took back one of her hands to gently stroke his face, just like her mother would do to her when she was in distress. “Even if I wanted to go back to London, which, surprisingly, I don’t, I would not leave you here. Arthur, we are a team, and we stick together.”
Her husband started absentmindedly playing with the fabric of her skirt. “I don’t deserve you.”
“Now you are just being foolish.”
“I don’t. Look at you, gentle, patient, kind. And here I am, crashing over a harp logo and a campaign poster.” She stopped her stroking, which made him lowly whimper.
“I am proud, stubborn and unsubmissive.”
“You are beautiful, smart and interesting.”
“You are funny, loving and fair.” This made Arthur shift to look at her, the small wrinkle between his brows making itself visible. “Why do you think my dowry was so large?”
“I don’t remember your dowry. I was too focused on other things.” His suggestive smile made her laugh.
“Well, to remind you, my father was desperate to marry me off. I had had four courtships before you.” The frown came back to his features.
“I don’t know how that is supposed to make me feel better.”
“What I’m trying to say, you jealous man, is that no one wanted to marry me, and father was growing desperate.” His arched brow showed that he was still having a hard time seeing what she was trying to say. “You, Arthur Guinness, showed up at my father’s home and asked for my hand. Knowing that I talk back, I stand my ground and that I was never going to yield to you.”
“Anyone with a brain would have married you.”
“Evidently not. And yet you did. And you have given me the happiest six years of my life.” He finally sat back, both of their faces to the same level, and coming impossibly close to the other. “So what if we’ve had a small setback? So what if we have to start all over again in Dublin? We will do it together, like we have always done.”
“I love you.”
“I love you most, Arthur Guinness.” The kiss was unlike the ones they were used to giving each other, passionate with crashing teeth and world-shattering. This one was soft, tentative, as if they were doing it for the first time again. And somewhat, they were.
A.N: I hope you liked it Anon! I had so much fun writing this!
