#arthur hill fanfic

[clarkeybabey]

❝ playing my heartstrings like a rock star ❞

# summary; you're messing with his feelings and he doesn't understand why

# playlist; hey arthur!, arthur hill, think i'm in love with you, chris stapleton, please notice, christian leave

# word count; 1.9k

# note; i needed a happy ending my first fic on here cant be angst<3 I did not proofread this so sorry

The three boys sat in their sitting room, a comfortable silence lingering as they scrolled through their phones. "Arthur wants to know if we're going to come to the pub with him," George finally spoke up, looking to his friends and mentally crossing his fingers they'd agree. They deserved it after the week they've had.

Arthur chews the inside of his lip waiting for Chris' reply, not wanting to be the one to reject the invitation, but he knows you'll be there after your earlier text about going for drinks.

Chris shrugs laying his phone down next to him, "I don't see why not," both he and George stand, heading in the direction of their bedrooms to grab sweaters and shoes, assuming everyone is down.

When they disappear from sight, Arthur finds himself groaning, pressing his palms so hard to his closed eyes that he sees stars dotting his vision when he eventually opens them. It's not that he doesn't want to see you, he knows that when he does he can't resist the later idea of going home with you and he hates himself for it.

"They can't know," you always say, referring to your shared group of friends, "it'll throw off the dynamic, you can just come to my flat for the night on the weekend." You're grown adults, who cares what you get into when you're alone? He doubts anyone would really care as much as you think, but every time he tries to express that someone ends up with their feelings hurt, and 99.9% of the time they're his.

He makes his way to his room, spending more time than he cares to admit trying to find the cologne he knows is your favorite. His closet's a mess, but he finds the jumper you love to steal kicking himself for trying so hard as he throws it on over his old t-shirt. He stands in his bathroom pulling a baseball cap on to cover how flat his hair had become from lying on the couch for the last two hours.

Chris is yelling something from the kitchen about how he's worse than a woman about his looks, he can't find it in himself to care enough to think of a witty reply, instead just shoving his hands deeper into his pockets.

their bar of choice isn't far so they decide walking is the better and cheaper option, the walk is quick, and he stays a few paces behind his friends with music playing in his airpods as he gives himself a pep talk preparing to see you.

You sit at the bar with Becky and Arthur chatting about everything and nothing all at once, "You know, babe, I still need to get you on see it off, George and both Arthurs have nominated you now," she remarks, smirking as she brings her pint to her lips, you look to Arthur whos nodding along with her.

As the three of you chat, you're practically yelling over the people around you, "Let me know a date and we'll get it sorted," you smile, Arthur pipes up about needing the toilet and slips off his stool heading off in the direction of the restrooms.

As soon as he's out of sight, she scoots into the seat he once inhabited with her brows raised, "Anything new with you and Mr Hill?" You sigh, dreading having to answer that question, "There won't be anything new ever I don't think, I've made it clear how bad of an idea we are," your stomach turns at your own words, suddenly feeling a wave of nausea wash over you.

It wasn't like you didn't want anything other than to be with him, but everyone was so close and the what if's shadow how good the relationship could be.

What if something bad happens and you can't spend time together as a big group any longer? What if you couldn't film together? What if you had to listen to songs written about how bad of a girlfriend you were? She groans, her head falling onto her crossed arms, "You're so doubtful, darling. Give him a shot, he's such a sweet boy, especially to you." She sounded exactly like your mum when you told her the same thing after he came home with you one weekend. Sighing you continue, "I've never met someone like him-" You're cut off suddenly as rough hands slap over your eyes, "Guess who," George Clarke and his atrociously fake, heightened voice are quite unmistakable, you shove his hands away, giggling, and spin on your stool.

Your heart thumps against your chest, rattling your ribcage knowing there's no chance he and Chris showed up without the one person you've been waiting all week to see, sure enough there he is, though he's not even looking in your direction instead his eyes are glued to his phone screen with both headphones in, obviously not wanting to be here in the slightest.

You greet the boys not really paying any mind to anything being said, keeping your attention on Arthur the whole time. finally, once the four of your friends are distracted, you slip off your barstool and join him at the table he was sitting at alone, "You alright?" your question hangs in the air as you sink your teeth into the plush of your lower lip, "Fine, thanks," he replies dryly going out of his way to seem as uninterested as possible.

Scoffing, you snatch his phone from his hand, pausing whatever was playing on his Spotify, "Talk to me, please? I missed you." His eyes soften at your words as he fights with himself not to give in to you too easily, "missed you too," he mumbles as he picks at the skin on his fingers anxiously wanting to spew all the thoughts he's having about the two of you. Together.

Luckily for him, you beat him to it, "I wanna be with you," your words are lost to him at first as he sputters, not truly believing what he's just heard. He hates the way you can read his mind, "Like, seriously, I mean it, but we can't" he shakes his head bitterly, thinking this has to be some sort of sick joke you and Becky had strewn together.

"Do you know how many times I've heard that, y/n? I mean, seriously, tell it to someone else." He sounds so dismissive, and it hurts, but nothing hurts as bad as the sight of tears welling up in his pretty eyes. You just sit there, looking at him blankly with a lump forming in your throat, searching his eyes for something other than what he's said, but you can't seem to find it.

You scoff sliding his phone across the table back to him, "Right, sorry," you nod biting at the skin on the inside of your cheek, you turn on your heels and Arthur hates the look that you give him over your shoulder as you wrap your arms around yourself, like you see right through his attitude into the deeper side of things.

When you return George is wearing the glasses you mistakenly left in now-drunk Becky's purse, faking your accent in the worst way you've ever heard, "Those are prescription, you're gonna hurt your eyes," you sigh shaking your head, doing your best to smile. You pull them away from his face by the bridge, folding them to tuck into the v of your top, "Think 'm gonna get going," you mumble, avoiding everyone's eyes as the laughter dies down.

"So soonnnn?" Becky pouts jutting out her bottom lip for good measure, tucking your phone into your back pocket, murmuring something about how you have to film in the morning. Your friends say goodbye as you go around hugging everyone, when you get to Chris he pulls you in and whispers into your ear, "Take Arthur with you, please? He's bloody miserable." His breath is hot and riddled with the smell of beer as it fans across your face.

From across the room, Arthur feels his blood run hot as Chris whispers something to you and his hand lingers on your waist for longer than he deems friendly or comfortable, rolling his eyes he nibbles at the dry skin on his bottom lip until he begins to notice the familiar metallic taste of blood linger on his tongue. Nothing about this evening was going well and it just seems like lives trying to get back at him for something he doesn't even know he's done.

He was too busy in his own head to notice your presence just next to him, "C'mon, my uber's waiting," nearly falling off his stool as your words snapped him from the trance he was in, "Not up for it tonight," you scoff at his words, of course, he's thinking the opposite of what you had planned.

"Don't want you to fuck me, just wanna spend time with you," His brows raise involuntarily at your bluntness, a smirk playing on his lips, knowing you can't stay away just as much as he, boosts his confidence every damn time.

He doesn't find it in himself to reject you again, simply sliding off the still and interlocking your fingers, hoping to God every one of your friends is watching. As you make it outside your uber is in fact not there, he's about a mile out so you lean against the brick wall, Arthur's close proximity looming over you, "What was Chris on about?" Your drooping eyes shoot open, and the jealousy in his voice makes you smirk, seeing an opportunity to toy with him, just a bit,

"What's it to you," you shoot back, arms crossed over your chest he steps closer suddenly invading your space, his cologne which so happens to be your favorite begins to cloud your nose and mind as your chest rises and falls, adrenaline coursing through your veins. "You know exactly what it is to me, sweetheart."

His thumb and forefinger grip your chin forcing you to meet his eyes, the rings of his hands are cold against your heating face, "If 'm going home with you, I suggest you share." Your breath hitches at the dominance that's suddenly radiating off him, you fight the urge to let your eyes roll back into your head as his breath fans across your face, instead letting them fall closed once more.

You swallow, once more allowing eye contact, "He thought you were miserable and I should take you home with me." The smirk on your face makes Arthur regret ever telling Chris and George about how he'd wanted to spend more time with you. "I want to give this a shot," he scans your face waiting for you to remind him how you shouldn't but you don't say anything else.

"You mean it," his thumb rubs circles on the exposed skin of your hip, you nod, knowing words would betray you, "Need to hear you say it," he sounds breathless, looking at you with hopeful raised eyebrows.

"I wanna be your girlfriend-" his lips meet yours before you can even finish your thought, both hands cupping cupping your face. A wolf whistle comes from your immediate left and he pulls away but doesn't step back, shielding you from view, though you see over his shoulder as both George and Arthur hand Becky what look to be ten-pound notes.

[lilibethmg]

love on tour | a.h.

a/n: welcome to my first social media fic of hopefully many!! i have a whole universe planned out within the british youtuber group and i thought who best to introduce the series with than arthur hill!!! all work will be ocs not xreaders

@kamrynkam

liked by arthurnfhill and 5,937 others

popped down to london to film the double denim music video today!! out on friday if you’re lucky x (and thanks to my wonderful camera man @arthurnfhill)

comments…

userone arthur and kam interaction???

| usertwo the way they are my new fave duo

userthree r u guys dating?

userfour i love your music kam!!!!

| kamrynkam tysm <3333

| userfour OMG KAM NOTICE

arthurnfhill i expect to be paid for my services

| kamrynkam oops.. maybe next time?

| | userfive NEXT TIME??

@kamrynkam

liked by arthurnfhill, georgeclarkeey and 4,937 others

surprise! we’re going on tour! tickets link is in my bio if you fancy seeing us x

its gonna be one hell of a show.. i wouldn’t want to miss it!!

comments…

arthurnfhill ar-tour! ar-tour! ar-tour!

| kamrynkam i want a funky name for tour too :(

| arthurnfhill i’ll work on it 🫡

userone i got manchester tickets!!!!

usertwo omg can’t wait to see you two

georgeclarkeey looking forward to meeting you (especially after everything arthur has told me about you)

| kamrynkam all good things i hope!!

| georgeclarkeey terrible, terrible things

@kamrynkam

liked by arthurnfhill, arthurtv and 5,924 others

tour has been a blast so far! london you’re up next 👀 it’s so surreal coming out on stage and seeing you lot go crazy, thank you for having the best energy ❤️‍🔥❤️‍🔥❤️‍🔥

comments...

userone can’t wait for tonight!!!

usertwo you were so good last night <3

saderah gonna cheer the loudest for you tonight

| arthurnfhill not if i cheer louder

| saderah let me flirt with your girlfriend please!

this comment has been deleted.

userthree DID NO ONE ELSE SEE THAT??

@kamrynkam

liked by arthurnfhill, lisahull_hill and 5,926 others

ar-tour/kam-fest was awesome!! you guys were all so lovely and have made my year xx

p.s. do we want passing thought (feat. kam) to be released 👀

comments…

userone you were so good!!!

usertwo yours and arthur’s voices sounded heavenly together omg

| kamkamryn tysm oh my gosh <3

lisahull_hill you were brilliant darling!

| kamkamryn thank you lisa 🥹

userthree can’t believe i got to meet you!! thank you for being so lovely

arthurnfhill ❤️

| kamkamryn mwah

userthree your chemistry was a little too good for my liking 🤔🤔🤔

saderah girl you were awesome!!!!!

| kamkamryn love you sade :((

@kamrynkam

liked by arthurnfhill, saderah and 6,293 others

‘i’d step on lego for you’ is now all yours! i hope you guys have as much fun listening as i did making it! this ep is a collection of my favourite songs i’ve made in the past year with 2 brand new songs!!! let me know your favourite song on the ep!!! 🩵

comments…

arthurnfhill forever proud of you

| kamrynkam ❤️‍🔥

| | userone HELLO??!?

usertwo naked poetry goes so hard!!

userthree afterlife is a banger tbf

saderah straight fire!! no skips!! she’s done it again!!!

| kamrynkam stop it 🤭

userfour WHO IS THAT IN THE LAST PHOTO???

| userfive i think we all know 👀 @arthurnfhill thoughts?

commented liked by kamrynkam

@kamrynkam

liked by arthurnfhill, saderah and 4,834 others

finally found my muse ❤️‍🔥

comments…

userone hard launch 🤔

| kamrynkam hard launch 😌

usertwo OH MY GOSH!!!!

saderah sister-in-law!!

| kamrynkam sister-in-law!!!!!!!

arthurnfhill i expect 3 songs about me written by the end of the week (love you x)

| kamrynkam stfu loser 😭😭 (love you too x)

userthree 2nd photo is giving rockstar’s girlfriend

| kamrynkam *rockstar girlfriend

[the-moonprophet]

A lil something for my fellow BBC Merlin fans out there: imagine a fic written from the POV of Cedric from the Curse of Cornelius Sigan episode…

As a thief, Cedric is willing to go to any lengths to get his hands on valuable riches. So when he has to infiltrate the castle and gain Prince Arthur’s trust, so be it.

He manages to get under Arthur’s wing by humiliating the Prince’s servant, Merlin. It’s easy enough; the boy's an absolute moron. But it amazes Cedric that, even in the boy's absence, the Prince will not stop talking about him.

Granted, it's mostly insults, but it gets old nonetheless. With the Prince, it's always, “Merlin this," and "Merlin that." Cedric can't wait to get his hands on the key to the tomb so he can pillage the treasure and get out of Camelot.

Finally, Cedric sees his plan coming together when he stages an accident in the stables and blames it on Merlin. He suggests to the angry Prince that, "Merlin’s tired." He wasn’t confident about this part, but somehow, it convinced Arthur to give Merlin the day off.

With the oddly perceptive boy out of the way, Cedric is granted the position of Arthur’s manservant for the rest of the day. This is perfect, considering Cedric’s plan is going along nicely, but there's a downside; now, he has to listen to even more Merlin talk.

"I don't see why he can't just take care of himself. It’s a basic human function," Arthur grumbles as Cedric serves him dinner.

"I mean, is it really that difficult to get a full night's sleep?" the Prince mutters from the bath while Cedric waits patiently for orders.

"And don't even get me started on his personal hygiene!" Arthur groans as he gets ready for bed. "I mean, really! Is he so exhausted that he can't even spare a few minutes to bathe?"

"Yes, my lord," Cedric repeats for the billionth time. He cannot wait until he never has to say those words again. Will this royal prat of a Prince ever shut up about his servant? It’s just strange—they’re strange.

Arthur heaves a sigh, plucking his keys off his waist and tucking them into his bedside drawer, mumbling something about incompetence. To Cedric, he was beginning to sound like an irritated housewife.

It isn’t long before Arthur’s grumbles are replaced with snores, and Cedric launches to action. He plucks the keys from the bedside drawer and creeps toward the door, but not before staring down at the unconscious Prince. Considering how easy it had been for Cedric to pull this off, Prince Arthur doesn’t seem like a very capable ruler. If he can’t even keep his keys safe, how can he protect an entire kingdom?

Although, as Arthur rolls over and murmurs an all-too familiar name in his sleep, Cedric considers the importance of a lowly servant. It’s a position of great trust (which is probably why Arthur didn’t think twice about falling asleep with a stranger in his room). A person this close to the Prince during his personal moments is expected to assist in the mundane—like making sure his belongings are kept safe while he sleeps, for example.

Cedric allows that, given the treatment Prince Arthur is used to, the man might not expect betrayal from his servant.

Cedric thinks about the Prince’s real servant, doing who-knows-what after that stables incident. Merlin had caught onto him unusually quickly. Normally, Cedric has a few days before anyone suspects him.

It’s odd, the close attention Merlin paid—not just to Cedric, but to Arthur. Almost as though he wishes to protect him, but how could a servant protect the strongest knight in Camelot?

The boy had seemed a bit too devoted to his Prince… Cedric wonders what that’s all about.

Well, no matter now. It’s time to get rich.

Cedric stalks out of the room.

[sophiepiastri]

so… just asking. could someone write italian bach fics pleaseeee…

[fallingforyouforeverr]

hey guys! sorry for not updating much recently, i have really bad writers block rn so please send any ideas or requests you have i'm literally begging

have a great day/night ♡

[mellucyx]

guys i’m taking one for the team with arthur tv + more fics because there is simply not enough so pick which one i should do first

i have so many more ideas but imma stick with these for now !!

also going on holiday tomorrow so it won’t be up until december at the earliest 😭

[grugruel]

Another poll guys! This is for the importance of all my future fics.

In general now, not only for fanfics but reading books or reading overall.

Which is preferable, past tense or present tense?

I've done another poll a while back where I asked which perspective was most liked, and third person won that.

So lets say the story is third person pov, there's not a narrator looking back, or remembering or some such. But simply telling the story.

[georgeclarkewifey]

*cough* SEND ME REQUESTS PLEASE *cough*

.☽༊˚ three word prompts

¹⁾ “it’s getting late”

²⁾ “you look terrible.”

³⁾ “who did this?!”

⁴⁾ “i feel awful.”

⁵⁾ “they’re all lying.”

⁶⁾ “let me help.”

⁷⁾ “try to eat.”

⁸⁾ “i’m so tired.”

⁹⁾ “just tell me!”

¹⁰⁾ “it’s for you.”

¹¹⁾ “i tried calling.”

¹²⁾ “this is fucked.”

¹³⁾ “here- try this!”

¹⁴⁾ “you’re a nightmare.”

¹⁵⁾ “can’t sleep either?”

¹⁶⁾ “you never answer!”

¹⁷⁾ “…that’s my shirt.”

¹⁸⁾ “i’m running late.”

¹⁹⁾ “here’s my number.”

²⁰⁾ “you look amazing.”

²¹⁾ “it’s work, again.”

²²⁾ “not here, please.”

²³⁾ “please, don’t cry.”

²⁴⁾ “it’s all over.”

²⁵⁾ “you’re safe now.”

²⁶⁾ “come to bed.”

²⁷⁾ “let me help.”

²⁸⁾ “fancy a drink?”

²⁹⁾ “i didn’t! swear!”

³⁰⁾ “oh, fuck me.”

³¹⁾ “no-one’ll hurt you.”

³²⁾ “it’s pouring out!”

³³⁾ “take my coat.”

³⁴⁾ “come here, idiot.”

³⁶⁾ “are you alright?”

³⁷⁾ “c’mon- try this.”

³⁸⁾ “what’s the time?”

³⁹⁾ “my back’s sore.”

⁴⁰⁾ “lean on me.”

⁴¹⁾ “take a picture!”

⁴²⁾ “please, let go.”

⁴³⁾ “how’d you remember?”

⁴⁴⁾ “that’s not fair.”

⁴⁵⁾ “got my flowers?”

⁴⁶⁾ “it’s so cold.”

⁴⁷⁾ “take my bed.”

⁴⁸⁾ “do you care?”

⁴⁹⁾ “where’re you from?”

⁵⁰⁾ “you look exhausted.”

⁵¹⁾ “argh- you’re freezing!”

⁵²⁾ “it’s not safe!”

⁵³⁾ “don’t go there.”

⁵⁴⁾ “that tastes… different.”

⁵⁵⁾ “this shouldn’t hurt.”

⁵⁶⁾ “you’re so warm.”

⁵⁷⁾ “your hair’s soft.”

⁵⁸⁾ “where’d that happen?”

⁵⁹⁾ “…that’s not mine.”

⁶⁰⁾ “i never lied.”

⁶¹⁾ “is that mine?”

⁶²⁾ “the lock’s broken.”

⁶³⁾ “the path’s stopped.”

⁶⁴⁾ “… cake? seriously, now?!”

⁶⁵⁾ “another cold case?”

⁶⁶⁾ “i smell smoke.”

⁶⁷⁾ “pick a movie.”

⁶⁸⁾ “we just kissed.”

⁶⁹⁾ “peach lip gloss?”

⁷⁰⁾ “i missed you.”

⁷¹⁾ “your mascara’s ruined.”

⁷²⁾ “the trail’s cold.”

⁷³⁾ “i run hot.”

⁷⁴⁾ “take my hand!”

⁷⁵⁾ “vodka at midday?”

⁷⁶⁾ “you started it!”

⁷⁷⁾ “your cooking’s phenomenal.”

⁷⁸⁾ “the dog’s cuter.”

⁷⁹⁾ “there’s one bed.”

⁸⁰⁾ “it’s too hot.”

⁸¹⁾ “i’m too old.”

⁸²⁾ “it’s a mistake!”

⁸³⁾ “the motel’s closed.”

⁸⁴⁾ “my ring’s missing.”

⁸⁵⁾ “he isn’t answering.”

⁸⁶⁾ “oh. i’m sorry.”

⁸⁷⁾ “have you eaten?”

⁸⁸⁾ “ah- that’s enough.”

⁸⁹⁾ “what’s wrong now?”

⁹⁰⁾ “you’ve been crying.”

⁹¹⁾ “let me drive.”

⁹²⁾ “nice uniform, dickhead.”

⁹³⁾ “the ladder’s gone!”

⁹⁴⁾ “that’s gonna bruise.”

⁹⁵⁾ “fuck- you’re sick.”

⁹⁶⁾ “i made breakfast.”

⁹⁷⁾ “careful, it’s hot.”

⁹⁸⁾ “got a lighter?”

⁹⁹⁾ “just- why him?”

¹⁰⁰⁾ “you’re safe here.”

¹⁰¹⁾ “we’ve gotta leave.”

¹⁰²⁾ “there’s sand everywhere!”

¹⁰³⁾ “you fell asleep.”

¹⁰⁴⁾ “your birthday’s tomorrow.”

¹⁰⁵⁾ “you killed it!”

¹⁰⁶⁾ “…this is awkward.”

¹⁰⁷⁾ “you lost, sucker!”

¹⁰⁸⁾ “fuck- you’re bleeding.”

¹⁰⁹⁾ “wear that dress.”

¹¹⁰⁾ “sorry for that.”

¹¹¹⁾ “fucking shut up!”

¹¹²⁾ “my wallet’s missing.”

¹¹³⁾ “the electricity’s out.”

¹¹⁴⁾ “just my luck.”

¹¹⁵⁾ “you’re drunk, honey.”

¹¹⁶⁾ “call an ambulance!”

¹¹⁷⁾ “what’s that smell?”

¹¹⁸⁾ “shit, i’m hit.”

¹¹⁹⁾ “we’ve been made.”

¹²⁰⁾ “it’s so early.”

¹²¹⁾ “what’s wrong now?”

¹²²⁾ “let it go!”

¹²³⁾ “fix your makeup.”

¹²⁴⁾ “the damage’s done.”

¹²⁵⁾ “please, don’t tell.”

¹²⁶⁾ “i didn’t cheat!”

¹²⁷⁾ “how’s the hangover?”

¹²⁸⁾ “i’ll do better.”

¹²⁹⁾ “sh, i’ll pay.”

¹³⁰⁾ “i’m going home.”

¹³¹⁾ “the bath’s ready.”

¹³²⁾ “they loved you!”

¹³³⁾ “that’s your nickname?!”

¹³⁴⁾ “stay the night.”

¹³⁵⁾ “show me. now!”

¹³⁶⁾ “…a ball gag?!”

¹³⁷⁾ “that painting’s… unique.”

¹³⁸⁾ “christ, that’s strong.”

¹³⁹⁾ “my face hurts.”

¹⁴⁰⁾ “the basement flooded.”

¹⁴¹⁾ “your lipstick’s everywhere!”

¹⁴²⁾ “you’re a nutjob.”

¹⁴³⁾ “mind the glass!”

¹⁴⁴⁾ “go to sleep.”

¹⁴⁵⁾ “let me see.”

¹⁴⁶⁾ “it’s so late.”

¹⁴⁷⁾ “cute glasses, dork.”

¹⁴⁸⁾ “you want what?!”

¹⁴⁹⁾ “this is mental.”

¹⁵⁰⁾ “it’s a wedding!”

[coltermorning]

Of Love and Loss Ch. 13 (RDR2 Fanfic, Arthur Morgan x F!Reader, 18+)

Summary: You and Arthur get to know the town better, getting to know each other better in the process.

Author’s Notes: This chapter needed some major reconstruction, so I apologize for the wait on it! I split it in half and completely changed the ending, but I’m so glad I did because it’s one of my favorite chapters now. Enjoy all the fluff and these two getting drunk together for the second time :) Chapter thirteen of this one.

Tags: Arthur Morgan x reader, high honor Arthur Morgan, minor character death, loss of parents, blood and injury, grief/mourning, survivor guilt, strangers to lovers, slow burn, eventual smut, graphic depictions of violence

AO3 Link

~

Of Love and Loss

Thirteen: Townsfolk

Word count: 5416

You startled awake at some point in the night, darkness pushing in through the lone window. Once you had your bearings, a sudden panic overtook when you realized Arthur wasn’t there until you saw him lying on the floor beside you. You’d slept through his return. And the fool had refused to wake you, had let you have the bed. This was no better than lying under canvas for him. You told yourself you would berate him for it once he woke, but the thought soon eddied away when your tiredness overtook you once more, your panic easing away now that you knew he was there beside you, that you didn’t have to face the bedroom alone. You fell back into dreams of your family, of a past life, of a time when you were never alone.

~

You must have truly needed rest, as you awoke a second time to Arthur reentering the room, having slept through him ever leaving it. You were normally a lighter sleeper.

“Just stabled Harriet and Bo,” he said. “Figured they could use a good rest and plenty of hay.”

“Does this mean we’re staying?” You couldn’t help the hope that lined those words.

Arthur caught it and smirked. “What, my company that miserable?”

Truth be told it was…quite the opposite. But before you could blush over the thought of that kiss, you pushed on. “You don’t see me running for the hills. Yet.”

“Yet,” he replied with a low laugh. He turned to the small mirror and basin the room had to offer, running his hand over his beard. It had grown long in the time you’d been traveling with him. His hair had too, starting to hang down past his eyes when his hat wasn’t pinning it back.

“You’re starting to look like a Montanan,” you told him. Starting to, because most men’s beards were twice the length of his in those snowy mountains.

“I usually keep it short,” he said, still looking at his reflection. “But it’s sure as shit been cold enough not to.”

You shrugged. “You get used to it.”

“The cold or the beard?” he asked, his hand falling as he turned to you. And when his eyes landed on you, the room suddenly felt a little smaller.

“The cold. Afraid I’ve no experience on the latter.”

He smirked, and you hated how much that look burned you up inside. You turned away.

“Well,” he said. “I’m starving. Want to go eat a proper meal? See a little of this country for yourself?”

Your heart gave a nervous kick at the very idea.

“It’s either that, or you’re staying here,” he added, and you knew without having to look at him he was just trying to rile you. Of course you would come with him, no matter how begrudgingly you did.

“Forgive me for not liking either of those options.”

He chuckled. “Yeah, and I can think of worse ones. Especially having to deal with me when I haven’t eaten, so come on.”

You rolled your eyes and wondered when the day would come that he would stop using his humor to get you to agree to things. Or maybe when you would finally find the will not to listen.

You threw your legs over the bedside and stood, realizing you were still wearing his clothes. “It won’t be…odd for me to walk around looking like this?”

“Like that? Sure,” he said with a laugh.

You glared at him. His amusement wasn’t helping.

“Here,” he said, crossing the room. And you let him invade your space without pause as he turned up your coat collar, sticking your hat low on your head to hide your hair. No matter that your heart was racing. That you felt disappointment take hold when he stepped away.

“Could pass for a man now. Ain’t no one looking a man’s way, ill-fitting clothes or no.”

“Great,” you said flatly. But Arthur just gestured to the door, and you scowled and did as he said, making for it.

After eating one very well-deserved meal of oatmeal piled with sugar, you and Arthur explored the town. It was interesting to see how mankind lived all intertwined like this. And sure enough, you got to look around relatively unnoticed. After a stop at the launder for your and Arthur’s clothes in which you weren’t even glanced at, you came out with a newfound confidence. It was nice being looked over, being an afterthought. All you had ever known of other people was unwanted attention, and now you felt freer than you ever had around so many eyes. It made for an enjoyable morning.

Arthur found a barber and stopped in, annoyed with all that hair after all. You sat outside in the sunshine and watched the people mill about. If where you were headed was anything like this for you, maybe it wouldn’t be so bad after all.

You were basking in the rare heat when you heard spurs clicking in your direction.

“Ready to go back?” Arthur asked.

You turned to answer, but when your gaze landed on him, words escaped you. His beard was now nothing more than stubble, his hair shorter but still framing his face, his hat in his hands instead of on his head for once. He was…distractingly handsome.

Apparently thinking you had fallen into another one of your spells of not speaking, Arthur put his hat back on his head. “I posed that like a question, but let me rephrase. You’re coming with me.”

The way he cleaned up so well plus him demanding that of you…it had you blurting out words to shake your sudden stupor.

“Why not stay? Get to know the town a little better, I mean.”

He smirked at you. You couldn’t figure why, your nerves at looking at him making it hard to do so.

“Do my eyes deceive me?” he jeered.

“What?”

“You, sitting around enjoying the place.”

“I just- I’ve never-”

“Save it,” he said, holding up a hand. “You don’t have to explain it to me. But tell you what, let’s go back, let it get dark, then I’ll show you around. Town’s always best at night anyhow.”

You could feel the nerves veritably rushing through you at the prospect of that, at all these people, at him. But you just nodded and stood. “Lead the way then.”

You were pondering what it would be like to finally get to experience this kind of life when you looked up and were faced with Arthur’s broad back, his mere presence carving a path through the people walking about. Had it always been that broad? And had he always looked that good in that big coat?

You shook your head to get that particular madness out of it and went back to watching the townsfolk. Anything to distract you from the one thing you wouldn’t allow yourself to think of for the remainder of this trip.

Nearing the hotel, you still felt those cursed nerves, but you had fully convinced yourself they were nothing more than timidness over the town. Certainly not a lone room and a bed and an outlaw to keep you company.

~

Arthur sat in the chair in the corner of the room and drew in his journal. He had stripped his coat, the heat of the day making it sweltering inside the hotel. He was just glad it wasn’t snowing. He’d had enough of that to last him the year. So he took up his time drawing the town you found yourselves in, debating what trouble to get you into tonight. He’d told himself miles back he’d show you how to cut loose for once, only now it seemed not the brightest idea he’d had. Now all he could think of was those men’s eyes on you at that shit hole of a trading post. But he’d given you his word, and he wouldn’t go back on it. Not when you had shown genuine excitement for once, all over seeing the glamor of city living. Well, glamor was a stretch, but it was something to you at least. More than could be said for Montana. So he sketched down a few bricks on a building side, debating all the while some type of harmless fun. Harmless, because his type of fun usually ended up being anything but. He wouldn’t show that particular genius to you lest you both end up in a jail cell. He grinned at the very thought.

The sound of the creaking bed reached Arthur’s ears, and he snuck a glance at you, seeing you sprawled out on your back, lazily reading the ledger you held above you. You were calmer here. He could tell you felt safe when you had been fine staying outside while he visited the barber earlier. And especially when you’d wanted to stay. Considering what happened in the last settlement, he was surprised you even wanted to do that much. But this trip would be coming to an end in a few short weeks, and maybe you, like he, knew it was time you got used to being on your own. Or without him, more like. Though he did feel a certain pride that you felt so safe around him, the same pride that still plagued him while he sat there admiring his shirt on you. It made him want to…well. Best not to think on that.

“Think I could make it as a trader in Nebraska?” Your eyes remained on the ledger despite the question.

“I know you could,” Arthur said, going back to drawing. “Better question is, would you want to?”

You sat up then, sitting cross-legged on the bed in a way that drew his eye.

“It’s what I’m good at.”

“You’re good at hunting,” Arthur said. “Those are two different things. You want to be a traveling salesman on top of that?”

“Maybe. Probably not.” You looked down at the ledger, your lower lip catching between your teeth. It took everything in Arthur not to stare at your mouth. “I don’t know,” you went on. “Maybe I could have a stall in town. I’m sure I could sell something if it was as valuable as what Pa used to sell.”

“Sure,” Arthur said, surprised at your ambition. How far you had come, willing to consider opening your own stall in a town you used to think you would never make it to. Planning a future for yourself. He was proud of you for it.

“Anyway,” you said, shutting the ledger and setting it aside. “You got any thread? Sewing needle?”

He let his amusement show. “No.”

You scoffed. “Of course you don’t. I was going to offer to sew up your coat.” You pointed at it where it lie on a trunk under the window, the afternoon sun shining down on it.

“Well, I ain’t got any.”

“Sure.” Then you stood and crossed the room, headed right for the door.

“Where you think you’re going?”

“To find some. Most women have a needle and thread on them. At least, the ones working here probably do. I’ll go ask.”

“Hang on. I didn’t keep you cooped up in here all day just to get snatched now,” Arthur said.

“I won’t get snatched,” you said, already opening the door and shooting him a glare all at once. Like an entirely different person from the one who had followed his every step just yesterday. For some reason, this sudden confidence shut Arthur up, and he let you be. The door closed behind you with force, leaving him shaking his head and going back to his journal.

The minutes ticked by, and Arthur got to a stopping point with his drawing and stood, moving to the window to have something to do with his restlessness. Looking out over the back street, he spied a small, dingy-looking saloon that didn’t even have a name, just ‘saloon’ written in big block letters. It would normally be a place he would be drawn straight to if it weren’t for the fact that he couldn’t take you there. Certainly not with the kind of population that frequented those places. His population, he thought with a chuckle. You were damn lucky Dutch and Hosea had drilled some manners into him, what few they could. But the place did give him an idea for the night’s festivities.

The door creaked open behind him, and Arthur turned to find you with thread in hand, showing it off in triumph.

“Told you. She even had blue.”

“How ‘bout that?” he teased, though he was secretly grateful you had gone so far as to get the proper color thread. No one else would have bothered with something like that.

You motioned to his coat, and he picked it up and threw it to you. You took his spot in the lone chair and set to work, Arthur trying not to watch too closely. He instead went to looking back out the window, thinking of what the pair of you could get up to.

“This is a pretty wide gash. You sure you didn’t get scratched too bad?”

Arthur hadn’t given a moment’s thought to the scratch the wolf had left behind on his arm. He had enough scars to forget to worry about the smaller ones.

“Nah, it ain’t bad. Don’t need any stitches at least.”

You were quiet for a moment, likely thinking of your own nasty scar. Then, “Your shirt needs mending too. I’ll work on it once we get it back from the launder.”

Arthur looked at you then. You were never so nice to him this…willingly. It reminded him of when you’d cleaned the blood off his face, and the thought made something finally click in his brain.

“You do this kind of thing for your parents?”

He knew he’d gotten it right when you didn’t immediately respond. Then, in a small voice, “Momma taught me.”

You didn’t talk about her much. Usually only your father and all he had taught you. But Arthur was willing to bet that defiance in you didn’t come from him. It was a trait best suited to daughters who had learned how to fight through testing their mothers.

“Well, I’m glad she did. I’m dogshit at sewing.”

You snorted a laugh. “I’m not surprised.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“You may be pretty at shooting a gun, but sewing’s a far cry with those big hands.”

Arthur felt his face heat at the word pretty but barreled through the feeling it brought him. “I sewed you up just fine.”

Now it was your turn to be embarrassed. You went red. “And you’re not going to let me forget it, are you?”

He felt his smile widen of its own volition. “Never.”

You didn’t respond, only smiled down at your sewing. Then you were bringing the needle away, gathering up the thread. “Done.” You handed the coat back to him. He took it and examined the new patch, a small line of darker blue now marring his right coat sleeve. It was a token of sorts—something to forever remind him of this trip.

“Thanks.” He meant it. You just waved him off.

Instead of putting the coat down, he put it on, not buttoning it up to keep the heat at bay. “Well, we may as well get going before the shops close. I have one more errand to run.”

You didn’t hesitate to stand, your eagerness returning. “What errand?”

He grinned. “You’ll see, nameless.”

He hadn’t called you that in a while, and it had you swatting at him as you passed, heading for the door. He opened it before you could, holding it ajar for you with hand outstretched. It made you even madder, and all he could do was laugh as he shut and locked the door behind you both.

The town was livelier at this hour, just as Arthur suspected it would be. Most folks were off work, in town to blow off steam after a long day. The heat had tapered off with the setting sun, turning it into the perfect golden evening. It was as good an introduction to regular life as you would ever get.

“You plan on telling me where we’re going?”

Arthur glanced at you, at your funny-looking clothes. “We could always stop at the launder, get you your clothes back.”

You caught the amusement on his face and frowned. “I don’t want them back yet. I was enjoying blending in just fine earlier.”

He figured. Looking ahead, Arthur found the shop he needed just down the main road. “Going to the gunsmith. I need more revolver cartridges since you shot all mine at nothing.”

“And you wonder why I’m mad at you all the time,” you muttered under your breath. He grinned.

The gunsmith had a fairly bare-bones shop, but it had what Arthur was looking for. He coughed up the money and was soon putting the cartridge boxes in his satchel, getting a few out to stick them in his gun belt.

“As riveting as this is,” you said, watching him do it, “I had hoped for a more…memorable evening. To be one of the townsfolk, if you will.”

Arthur finished and waved at the gunsmith, opening the door for you. “You always gotta be on a man’s case so bad?”

“It’s the duty of every woman.”

Arthur barked a laugh and pointed at the saloon he had already scoped out—the Red Horse. It was the biggest of the three saloons he had seen in town. Biggest usually meant easiest to blend into. “That’s where we’re headed. You up for it, miss townsfolk, or is that not memorable enough for you?”

He could see your eyes catch on it, see the way you clammed up with nerves before you calmed yourself back down. “No, memorable is a good word, I think.”

“Good. Come on then.” You both made to cross the street, but a horse and rider came barreling through so fast from around the corner you didn’t see it in time. Arthur grabbed your hand and yanked you back. He expected you to be cross about his saving your hide, as you tended to be, but instead you looked down at your hand. He was still holding it. He dropped it and cleared his throat. “You’re welcome.”

You wouldn’t meet his eye then, turning to attempt the street again. Or maybe to get ahead of him so he couldn’t see that blush on your face, but it was too late for that. He had seen it, and it was making him stare after you like an idiot.

Arthur remembered himself and rushed after you, putting all meaning of that blush behind him lest he let some pitiful semblance of hope get to him.

The saloon was lively and growing fuller by the minute, the bar full and nearly all of the tables the same.

“Beer or whiskey?” he asked you, having to talk loud over the man at the nearby piano as he pushed you into the room.

“Beer,” you responded, busy taking in the scene before you. Life at its very simplest. Gambling, alcohol, and a good time. Women, too. There were women hanging off of men’s arms everywhere, and Arthur hoped the sight would settle you some, as it seemed to settle you having women around in that hotel.

“Over here.” Arthur steered you toward the bar and let you stand behind him as he got the barman’s attention. He placed his order and handed more money over, thinking he needed to count through all he had left before the trip was over. He didn’t want to find himself without the means to get back to his gang. The bartender handed him two beers, and all thought of that washed away as Arthur pushed back through the growing crowd with you and made for a less populated wall to stand against.

Enjoying the first taste of his beer with more satisfaction than he could name, Arthur sat back and watched you. He had to keep from laughing at the way your head kept turning in all directions to take everything in. This would be a regular night for him, given that the gang had made it into town, but for you it was likely a whole new world.

“Careful not to hurt your neck there,” he said, smiling over his beer.

You shot him a dirty glance but saw him drinking and seemed to remember the beer in your own hand. You brought it to your mouth to take a sip, and Arthur couldn’t resist watching the way your lips touched the bottle. Something shot through him at the sight that he let be for once.

“God, that’s terrible,” you said, cringing. “Is there any alcohol that doesn’t taste like shit?”

He chuckled. “Probably not. But that’s not why you drink it.” He thought of how much gin he had downed with you that had led to a kiss and knew that to be true.

The pair of you took to arguing over how well you could handle yourself in a town like this before a game of poker across the way got so rowdy it couldn’t be ignored any longer.

“Ever played cards?” he asked.

You shook your head. “Don’t know how.”

“Come watch me then. I’ll show you.” And, at your sudden reluctance, “Relax, I won’t make you play.”

You eyed him and took another swig of beer before cringing just as noticeably, motioning at him to lead the way.

There were only two players left sitting at the poker table, but both had such high stacks of chips that Arthur knew better than to get in on the game until after one busted. Those high stakes were also why a crowd had gathered and was cheering so loudly for one man or the other. The pair of you watched alongside them, most rooting for the yellow-haired working stiff nearest you. The other man, a well-dressed but worse for wear man with a hatted, dark-haired head had men cheering for him that all looked just like him—well-dressed but sloppy.

“Stick it to him, boy!” someone shouted at the working man. His cards were visible to those standing behind him, showing a strong hand—two high-value diamonds to the flop’s two of the same suit.

Arthur knew as the turn revealed the third diamond—giving the man a flush—that he had his opponent beat. And sure enough, he went all in. Either bluffing or drunk, the other man followed suit and swiftly lost all his winnings.

“Now, now hold on,” he slurred, standing. “I saw him stick that diamond up his sleeve an hour ago!”

“Awe, save it, Lawrence!” someone in the crowd shouted back.

Arthur was too amused to notice you leave until he turned to find you gone entirely. Panic overtook him before he spotted you against the nearest wall, watching from a distance. He stormed over.

“What are you doing running off like that?”

“I didn’t want to be in the middle of…whatever that is.” You pointed to the poker table, and Arthur watched as the interaction between the two players started to get heated, the slimy-looking one not wanting to pay up.

He turned back to you. “Fair enough. But warn me next time.”

You eyed him.

“What?”

“Nothing.” You turned your attention back to the others, taking another sip of beer. And Arthur was mad at you for it, for distracting him like that when he should have been giving you a piece of his mind. But instead he watched your mouth again, watched as your lips pursed against the glass and thought of how they had felt against his own. He turned away and took a sizable drink himself.

To take his mind off of things, Arthur started explaining poker to you, namely the game that had just been played. You asked a few of the usual questions—what call and check meant and why the seedy man’s high card didn’t win him the game. Arthur finally seemed to explain things well enough that you said, “I get it. Go play then. I’ll watch.”

“I ain’t leaving you over here.”

“I know you want to play, Arthur. Go. I’ll stand closer if it makes you feel better.”

The sarcasm lining your words had him ready to argue.

“Just go,” you said with a small smile, pushing against his chest. Your hands on him made him comply. Made him melt into compliance, more like.

“I’m…getting another beer,” he said. “Then poker.” He hadn’t even realized he was out until then.

“Go then. I’ll be fine here.” Arthur really didn’t want to leave you. But you were looking at him with a light in your eyes you didn’t normally have. And he knew, stubborn fool that he was, that he wouldn’t always be there to protect you. Now was as good a time as any to test you when you were so comfortable being left alone.

“Stay here,” he said, voice filled with as much authority as he could muster.

“Yes, Arthur,” you teased, and even that did something funny to his insides. Christ, what the hell was he doing, getting so worked up? He needed to be drunker than this. Much drunker.

Two beers later and deep in his cards, Arthur kept turning to make sure you were there. You always were, usually shaking your head at him for the way he played his cards—he was almost out of chips to show for it.

He had a decent hand but not a great one when he heard you come up behind him and whisper, “Fold.”

“Why?”

“Because I saw the other man’s cards.”

Arthur had to stifle his laugh, but he did as you said. Then he was finishing his beer, cashing in while he still had some money left, and leaving the table. Only when you were far enough away so as not to be overheard did he turn to you. “That’s cheating, you know. I didn’t take you for a cheater.”

“I didn’t take you for a terrible card player.”

“I walked into that,” Arthur said as he stepped up to the bar to order yet another beer, this time two. Once in hand, he gave you the second one. “Cheers.”

You looked around for something to do with your empty bottle. “Here,” Arthur said on a laugh, forgetting how much you really didn’t know about this sort of thing. He took it, set it on the bar top, and turned back to you. “Now. To long, miserable, back-breaking travel. And not long left to go.” He held his bottle neck out to yours.

You smiled. “To you, Arthur.” You clinked the bottles together.

“Awe, come on, nameless. Don’t get sappy on me now.”

That smile of yours remained, and Arthur returned it before turning his bottle up.

The night went on, more beer drank and more people spilling in the doors than you had likely ever seen in your life. Arthur knew he was due to be cut off when he saw a few patrons dancing and thought it a good idea for the two of you to join them. Just for a moment. Then he came to his senses. But he asked you anyway, knowing it would irk you.

“Spare me a dance?” He held his hand out to you.

You swatted it away. “Very funny.”

“I’m serious.”

“No, you’re not. I don’t think you know the meaning of that word.”

He barked a laugh. “Probably not.”

“Why don’t you show me this big, bad outlaw I’m supposed to be traveling with instead?”

“What?” He turned to you, shocked you brought it up.

“I keep hearing about him,” you joked. “Haven’t seen him for myself yet.”

“And you ain’t going to. You don’t want to.”

You leaned in close to talk low, and Arthur made a point not to look at you lest he think about how easy it would be to kiss you. “You mean to tell me you haven’t thought of picking anyone’s pocket tonight? Not one?”

Truth be told, he had. It was overcrowded, the patrons were drunk, and it would be easy enough to get lost or blame it on someone else if things went south. But he wouldn’t risk that with you here.

“Maybe,” he said.

“Some outlaw you are,” you teased, and the winning smile you gave him stopped him in his tracks. Half for the look of it, half for how happy you could be while talking about the worst parts of him. Like it didn’t matter that he wasn’t a good man. Like you enjoyed his company anyway. He couldn’t say how much that meant to him.

“Anyway,” you droned on, finishing the last of your beer. “Let’s go back. I’m tired.”

“You’re even whinier when you’re drunk,” he quipped, but he downed his beer too, even through the particularly hard hit you landed on his arm for that one.

He got up and motioned toward the door. “Lead the way then.” You shot him a mischievous look he wanted to kiss right off your mouth. But too quickly, you turned and nearly disappeared into the crowd, so for the second time, Arthur grabbed your hand to keep up with you. The warmth of it in his grasp filled him with whatever happiness he had left. Especially when you wound your fingers through his and led him on.

The two of you made it outside, and only then did you drop his hand, never bringing any attention to the fact that you held it in the first place. He wanted to grab yours again, keep it held in his all the way back. But, he realized, you were already walking, not looking back. He jogged to catch up. Then, like a fool, he debated threading his fingers through yours every step of the way back. He never quite found the courage.

It only hit Arthur that you were about to join him in this hotel bedroom, and that he very much didn’t want to sleep on the floor, when you stepped through its doorway. He watched you shed your coat and hat and boots, doing the same so as not to draw attention to the way his eyes caught on you. After he got his satchel and gun belt off, he turned to find you already curled up in the bed like a cat.

“You’re not sleeping on the floor again, are you?” you said through a yawn.

“My back may never recover,” he joked.

“Come up here then.”

You said it so simply—such an easy thing to agree to. He knew he shouldn’t have, but he couldn’t resist doing it. So he lifted the sheets and laid down beside you, letting you curl around him in a way that had his heart pounding through his shirt. You laid your head right on it and yawned again. “I can hear your heartbeat.”

“That’s a relief. Let me know if it stops.”

You let out a laugh. A genuine, easy laugh that had Arthur wanting to turn your face to his and kiss you then and there. But he didn’t. He couldn’t. The two of you were just lonely and drunk and had each other for company. That didn’t mean he could do something you may not want from him—something you didn’t understand. Not to mention how it would eat at him when he had to leave you so soon. So, he didn’t turn your face to his. He wrapped his arm around you instead and pulled you close, his head resting atop yours in a way that was so comforting it was almost worse.

“I’m glad you’re here, Arthur.”

Your voice was small, heavy with tiredness. And the words cut into him, because he was the one you wanted to help heal your loneliness. Of all people, him.

“I’m glad to be here, nameless.” He truly was.

After long enough that he thought you asleep, you whispered, “Not nameless.”

“What then?” He had never wanted to know a name so badly in all his life.

You just yawned again, curling against him. “I’ll tell you tomorrow.”

Arthur smiled, looking forward, for the first time in a long time, to waking up.

_________

Chapter fourteen is here.

tag list: @nayomi247 @ultraporcelainpig @photo1030 @spiritcatcherxo @calcarius445

[violettduchess]

A/N: Vincent won the poll and with it, this kiss fic!

"This sadness will last forever" were supposedly Vincent Van Gogh's final words.

WC: 470

Trying to describe how it feels when Vincent kisses you makes you wish you were as talented with words as Dazai or Arthur. How can you possibly describe the feeling that floods you when he tenderly cups your face in his hands, eyes as blue as eternity, and leans down, softly pressing his lips against yours? 

You are one of his beloved sunflowers, cacophonous and bright, baring your soul to the radiant blue sky, joy beaming from every corner of your heart. You are the strong branches of the almond tree in spring, riotous with pink and white blossoms, each petal a happy sigh that escapes you. You are the black spire stretching itself up up up into the expansive starry night, reaching with your whole soul for the stars.

Vincent parts your lips, delving deeper even as he tenderly pulls you closer, wanting to feel your solidness against him. Sometimes you wonder if he is afraid you are nothing but a phantom that will disappear if he opens his eyes, a creature of mist and dreams that will dissolve under the bright rays of sunlight. Your arms wind around his neck, your body presses closer, reassuring him that yes, you are real. You are solid. And you are unconditionally his. He is warmth and gentleness, golden as wheat fields in summer but he is also fiercely protective, a strength easily overseen and underestimated due to the tenderness of his nature, the boyishness of his mien. You know the truth. You know there is no shoulder you would rather lean on, no hands you would trust to hold your heart more than his.

Oh, those hands. Those beautiful, talented hands move over your skin like a paintbrush on canvas. With every caress he decorates you in his desire, his love, his dedication, his admiration and you? You feel beautiful. You are a work of art, a masterpiece, glowing with each stroke of blazing adoration along your body. There is nothing that lifts his heart more than the content sighs you whisper against his mouth, the ardent press of your fingers into his shoulder when your body lights up with yearning. 

And if he pulls back for a moment, just a heartbeat in time, he can look into your eyes where he sees something unbelievable. He sees himself reflected there, in a way he never could imagine, despite the numerous self-portraits he has done. In the depths of your gaze, those windows to the naked essense of your heart, he sees himself as someone beautiful. Someone whole. Someone worthy of love.

Your name falls from his lips and just before he is utterly lost in the winding, sunlit path of your want, the hills and valleys of your body, he has a singular, sublime thought: 

This love will last forever.

Tagging: @xbalayage @alexxavicry @queengiuliettafirstlady @bellerose-arcana @thewitchofbooks @aria-chikage @redheadkittys @tele86 @dear-mrs-otome @olivermorningstar @writingwhimsey @mxrmaid-poet @silver-dahlia @wendolrea @nightfoxqueen @myonlyjknight @ikesimpleton @ikemenlibrary @namine-somebodies-nobody @greatstarlightstarfish @cellophanediamond @whatever-fanfics @chirp-a-chirp @got7igot7family @kookie-my-little-sunshine @fang-and-feather @bubblexly @kiki-tties @justpeachyteastea

[a-sunset-outside-my-window]

hullo friend, do you have any wolfstar fanfic recommendations for remus going through the lunar cycle? something like hurt/comfort but not only, just him dealing with all the things that come from being a wolfy

oh boy do I ever! I'm wiggeling in my seat because of this question

(disclaimer, I've been kinda busy the last few weeks so I might come back to this ask later with some more recs lol)

The 39 Steps by gilbertsdoor

Remus hated having to lie, but he could see no other way around it. Closing in on Sirius, he gripped him by the fabric of his t-shirt, pushing it up towards his throat. ‘Alright then. You’re alone in the muggle countryside, wandless, in the dark. You’re manacled to an evil, murderous werewolf, a known killer who doesn’t hold an ounce of pity for your pathetic human life. If that’s what you would rather believe, then by all means,’ he hissed, ‘be my guest.’

One minute Remus is between jobs, isolated, and thoroughly disenfranchised with life, the next he is on the run for murder, being a werewolf-at-large, and for knowing far, far too much.

One minute Sirius Black is a bored auror in training, the next he is caught up with Remus in a mess of secrets and dark magic.

Their lives intertwine, but how long can they keep running from the Death Eaters, and how long can they keep running from themselves?

Harry Potter and the Dog and the Wolf by thewholeofthemoon I live and breathe for this series!) it's very much focused on lycanthropy especially the latest work wich is still a wip but so so so good!

Scent of the Moon by Quietlemonhush this is a little different but very much lycanthropy focused even if it's not always the source of the hurt

Not content to only disown the wayward heir to the Noble and Most Ancient House of Black, Walburga calls in back up. Bellatrix has all those new friends with their good ideals and their sharp, sharp teeth.

Sirius Black returns to Hogwarts with a bite in his side and a fever he can't shake.

they also have some more smutty wolfstar fics wich feature the lunar cycle if that's more what you are looking for

Dunes and Waters by MarigoldWritesThings ( @marigold-hills ) this is probably the fic most focused on lunar cycles and just the magic theory behind lycanthropy and I also just can't reccomend it enough

Remus is sensitive to changing tides, a part of the moon always with him, and Black is like the sea. He can smell it on him, the way his magic builds up and crackles about the fingertips.

***

A werewolf, a convict, and a riddle.

The W in Weasley stands for Werewolf by gonzoclock this one is mostly here for fun werewolf lore I'm not gonna lie

When a werewolf comes out of nowhere and attacks nineteen-year old Arthur Weasley, he thinks his life is over before it's even really begun. He's wrong, of course, and now all of forty years later the Weasley family is thriving, happy, and healthy- and every one of them is a werewolf.

Things are going really well for eleven-year old Ron... except for the part where he has to get through school without anyone finding out his family's secret while simultaneously keeping his new brother alive. Easy-peasy. Right?

(Pay no mind to the one-eyed beast that seems to be lurking in the shadows- it's almost certainly nothing to worry about.)

Features the entire Weasley family adopting Harry Potter practically the second they lay eyes on him (or before that, even); Ron Weasley finding himself being altogether far too nice too slimy gits who don't deserve it; Percy Weasley doing his best; Harry deciding that being enemies with this Malfoy kid is too much work actually; Hermione Granger being as smart and ruthless as ever; Severus Snape who did not, and I repeat, did NOT sign up for ANY of this; and much, much more

By Moonlight by Eiiri this one, as well is mostly here for the werewolf angst, not nessecarily between wolfstar

After the Battle of Hogwarts, Remus recognizes something familiar in Draco Malfoy and offers him sanctuary. With nowhere else to turn--his parents in prison, his home a crime scene--Draco reluctantly accepts and becomes a tolerated, if not welcome, member of his schoolyard rivals' and wartime adversaries' family of choice. As pages of the lunar calendar turn and the summer wears on, Draco and the others begin to see each other in a different light.

but definitely check out these authors! <3

sorry for bad grammar it's late

[lux-and-obscurus]

hi. would anyone read a next gen hp fanfic that gives slight marauder group vibes and this is the first chapter. orrr no

July 15th - 12:30 pm

     The Burrow stood boldly amidst a sea of rolling hills and tall patches of trees, somewhat of an eye-sore against the distant idyllic and picturesque village of Ottery St.Catchpole. From afar, one might imagine it collapsing at any moment, yet there was no safer place than inside its eccentric walls.

"Alright, you tossers!" James Potter shouted as his footsteps sounded down the last landing, "Five minutes, and then I'm leaving you all behind!" He swung his backpack over his shoulder and marched purposefully to the doorway, hoping his friends would join him with a sense of urgency.

     Molly and Arthur Weasley had entrusted their grandchildren (blood-related or not) to watch over the house while they were visiting family in Tinworth. Unfortunately, it'd been named the hottest week England would be seeing that summer.

     There wasn't one crack, crevice, or cranny to hide in on that scorching July day and James was desperate to relocate to the inviting lake that was situated over the hill and through the neighboring woods.

     Located on the fifth floor, in Ron Weasley's former bedroom, Albus and Scorpius lay in their respective guest beds as if the sweltering sun was pressing its fiery hands around their necks. Albus looked up dazedly at the wall above him, it was littered with a chaotic amount of Quidditch posters that had been magically stuck there since 1993, advertising the Chudley Cannon's 20-time league cup win alongside an array of photographs of famous seeker, Galvin Gudgeon and the Cannon's long time keeper, Gordon Horton.

     Albus found himself partial to the Holyhead Harpies, seeing as his mother had been their most famous chaser for the first nine years of his life before retiring from the field at age 34 and taking over the role of Head Coach. Many of his early childhood memories included the blur of green and gold robes as they zoomed past the VIP box, his usual station when his mother had work to do, but his father was far too busy at the auror office to babysit.

"Wanker." Scorpius muttered tiredly as James's voice echoed through the upstairs. His head was hanging off the edge of the bed, eyes gazing around at the jumble of clutter that he and Albus had brought with them for their 3-day long stay including a few books Albus had nicked from the Hogwarts library the previous year. Scorpius's record player, lying a couple of feet away, was letting out faint needle chatter as the vinyl they had been playing earlier spun out soundlessly.

"We'd better get up." Albus sighed as he continued to lay completely immobile. To his dismay, his curly brown hair had plastered to his forehead and the nape of his neck through a slick layer of sweat, and every time he moved, he felt the way his clothes clung uncomfortably to every inch of his body.

     He heard Scorpius let out a huff resembling a chuckle, then the creak of his bed under his shifting weight. The two of them had been getting their things together to hike down to the lake that afternoon, but the room beneath the attic trapped heat more than adequately and had sent them flopping on their mattresses after mere minutes of discomfort.

"It'll be less hot downstairs," Scorpius reasoned as he got to his feet slowly, "C'mon Al," he moaned as Albus lay motionless, "Get on your cozzy so we can go."

"Fine." Albus groaned, sitting up with difficulty as the inescapable heat settled on him like a heavy quilt. Scorpius turned his back to him, leaning over his bed and gathering the goods and chattels he needed for their afternoon in a small backpack. Albus took the opportunity for privacy to hoist up a pair of swimming shorts and change t-shirts as the previous one was soaked through with sweat and he could hardly bear the feeling any longer.

     Together they trooped down the stairs at a pace they knew Albus's older brother, James would be unhappy with. Rose Weasley stood at the bottom sporting a pair of green sunnies and clutching a tote bag under her arm next to an excitable-looking Teddy Lupin who was bouncing impatiently on his sandaled heels. Rose merely grimaced at their appearance as she leaned her entire body weight into the stairway rails, the heat was getting to them all it seemed.

"Took long enough," Lupin commented, raking a hand through his wavy blue hair before following Rose to the front porch. James clapped his hands together triumphantly as they gathered on the small rickety steps and announced that he would be leading the way.

     The sound of James's voice happened to disturb one of the Weasley's many gnomes who had been lightly snoozing on an empty sack of chicken feed by his feet.

     The ugly thing raised its large, bald head and reared its gangly teeth at them before letting out a disgusting belch and scurrying off to find another shady place to reside. Rose let out a scoff of disgust in its absence, she had quite a strong opinion about Gernumblies as one had attempted to bite her ear off when she was eight years old.

"Thought I'd lead," Rose piped up, crossing her arms over her gingham bikini top, "Seeing as I was the one who found the lake in the first place." She'd scoped out the area last time they were at the Burrow for their annual Summer Solstice dinner, held by Molly Weasley the month prior, and had already memorized the footpath she'd taken to get there. She was also quite keen to get as far from the gnome's resting place as fast as possible.

"Oi, do you always have to put yourself in charge?" Albus snapped impatiently. He just wanted to get a move on, feeling the moisture from his back already seeping into his clean shirt.

"Let's just all relax, yeah?" Scorpius interjected, stepping between the bickering cousins. He was quite the peacemaker, especially since he mainly found himself hanging around Albus and his family members who always seemed to get into small rows. Rose glared straight through him, "I'll lead." He said with a smirk before stepping to the front of the throng and beckoning for them to follow.

     Rose hoisted her bag over her shoulder haughtily before following Scorpius onto the beaten path. Albus stood, baking in the sickly heat for a few moments, reluctant to move from the shade the thin porch roof provided.

"Al! Let's go!" Scorpius called back, spurring Albus back to life, "You're going to let the bloody sun kill you." He mused while Albus trotted slightly to catch up to them.

"We live in England, why is it 35 Celsius?" Albus grumbled as they stomped through a patch of tall grass. He leaned down to slap a bug away from his exposed calves.

"Maybe Mother Nature is pissed because you two were up all night blasting that Black Sabbath album relentlessly as if three other people weren't in the same house." Rose scowled. Teddy hummed in assent, seemingly exhausted as he ambled beside James on the dirt path.

"Blame follow-the-leader up there," Albus nodded towards Scorpius who was pressing on faster than the rest of them "I still have a ringing in my ears." but he couldn't help grinning at the memory of Scorpius jumping from bed to bed strumming his air guitar to the roar of his imaginary fans.

     James hurried to Scorpius's side at the front of the group, eager to boast of his plans to lead Gryffindor house to the quidditch cup that upcoming year. Last year Gryffindor had lost the Quidditch cup for the first time in five years. James had held the coveted position of Gryffindor seeker since his second year and he'd taken the loss quite hard, going so far as to ignore Scorpius for two weeks straight due to Scorpius's title of Slytherin Team's MVP and lead chaser. Eventually, they made up, only after officially declaring war between their teams.

     The five of them walked for another half a mile, navigating a steep hill, before reaching the edge of a forest that stretched far in the distance on either side of them like a wall. Rose informed them that it was only another three to five-minute walk through the sliver of trees. They trekked on with sweat dripping down their hopeful faces.

"At last!" Teddy whooped as the forest began to thin and they stepped onto the shore of a large, sparkling lake. Towering cliffs loomed around the circumference of the vast body of water, their stony faces adorned with lush greenery that cascaded down until reaching the water's edge. Brilliant potential for cliff jumping, Scorpius thought approvingly as he set down his backpack on the sandy grass. Albus couldn't believe that an oasis such as this had existed less than a mile from the Weasley and they'd only just discovered it.

     They weren't alone of course. The sweltering heat had drawn a mixture of muggle and wizarding families from the village, some groups looking just like there's, a gaggle of teenagers who looked relieved to be somewhere beside's their bedrooms. One family had brought their own barbecue, burying it's wheels in the sand and cooking up several chicken kebabs. Two small children were crouched by the shoreline collecting wet sand in a red, plastic pail.

     Rose laid out blanket large enough to accommodate all of them under a huge oak tree that was casting generous shade over a patch of sand. However, none of them had plans to settle down anytime soon as they tore off their day clothes and raced to the water's edge like giddy children.

     Albus, always the more cautious one, waded in slowly after the rest of them. Still taking in his surroundings, he watched a mother and son wearing life jackets bobbing beside each other further across the lake. Up ahead, Scorpius was already waist-deep in the refreshingly cool waters, swirling his fingers around the surface with delight before, predictably, splashing a wave of water in Rose's direction.

     She let out a shriek of laughter and threw her long, red plaits over her shoulders, signifying that he'd started a war. She scooped up a large bit of water in her hands and launched it back at him, smacking him squarely in the face. Seemingly unphased, Scorpius sucked in a bit of air before slipping under the water for a few moments. He resurfaced and combed his wet hair back with his fingers with a serene smile on his face.

"I'm going to go for a swim," James called as he lowered himself onto his back, "I want to see if we can get up on those cliffs." He continued, using his arms to paddle himself backward, having the same idea that Scorpius did on their arrival. Teddy followed James wordlessly and Albus caught up to where Scorpius and Rose were standing.

"I fancy a bit of a swim myself." Rose shrugged before setting off in the other direction. She dived into the dark blue water before resurfacing a couple of meters ahead and starting on her freestyle.

"How're you feeling now?" Scorpius smiled, eyeing Albus who looked significantly less feverish than he had back at the house, though still mildly uncomfortable as he kept his arms firmly wrapped around his torso like a shield.

"Better." Albus nodded, pressing his fingers into his sides. Scorpius smiled approvingly and felt himself gazing over the smattering of brown freckles across Albus's tan face before noting how his green eyes sparkled wonderfully in the sunlight. Albus cast him a funny look causing him to tear his eyes away and observe the algae slipping under his feet.

"Let's catch up to Ted and James," He said, suddenly wanting to get away, "I bet they've already found a way up." He motioned to the highest cliff behind them, Albus guessed it to be about 50 feet high.

"That one?" Albus exclaimed incredulously, "But there are perfectly good ones all around it that would be much easier to get to!" He scanned their options, even noting small slivers of footpaths made by other tourists around the smaller cliffs. See, he thought, some people had sense.

"C'mon Al, you'll have so much fun you won't even remember why you were scared in the first place!" Scorpius pressed as he began wading across the lake toward the other edge. Albus hesitated, his gaze flickering nervously between his persuasive friend and the looming cliff.

"I'm with you," Came a voice behind Albus, "I am not jumping off of that thing." His cousin sidled up next to him and clicked her tongue disapprovingly. At least they agreed on some things, Albus and Rose. Usually, things that require logic and sense instead of a daredevil attitude. Scorpius shrugged before paddling off to the other shore to join Teddy and James's tedious climb to the top.

     They'd found a slightly inscrutable path of dirt and sand that winded between littered boulders and green brush. The older boys were already halfway up before noticing that Scorpius was trying to join them. They instructed him loudly up the footpath before the three continued racing to the top together.

"Did they even check if there were rocks below?" Rose sighed as she squinted up at the three figures gathering at the edge of the cliff.

"What do you think," He murmured, his eyes on Scorpius who unsurprisingly seemed to have appointed himself the first jumper. He reminded himself that with Scorpius he had to adopt a carefree attitude if he was going to survive the many bouts of danger his friend liked to put himself in. He squared his shoulders, "They'll be fine." he said coolly.

     Some of the other teenagers at the lake were staring up at the cliff as well, evidently wanting to join the festivities but wanting to see if it was safe first. Luckily, Scorpius never minded being a testing dummy.

"Well," Rose raised her eyebrows, "I should get a photo of this." She waded back to shore quickly before splashing back to where Albus had moved to get a closer view, phone in hand. Scorpius stepped up to the very edge of the cliff, so far away that his expression was unreadable. He flashed two thumbs up and his jubilant whoop echoed off the rocks before the loud splash.

2:00 pm

     Teddy and Rose lounged on the picnic blanket, chatting animatedly about their theories on which Hogwarts professors were shagging each other as they indulged in a feast of sandwiches, fruit, and Molly's famous homemade lemonade.

     Nearby, Scorpius and James had set up a portable speaker and the strains of one of their favorite 70s rock album floated through the air. Scorpius tapped his foot to the beat while scrolling absentmindedly through the music queue on his phone, hunting for the next track. James strummed along on his imaginary guitar with over-the-top rockstar expressions with his wet hair spiked up in several directions, eliciting laughs from the rest of them.

" I Feel so hypnotized, can't describe the scene

It's all mesmerized, all that inside me

The sunshine bores the daylights out of me "

     Off to the side, Albus sat beneath the shade of the towering oak tree, a school book cradled in his hands. He knew he only had a couple of minutes before Scorpius would whine for him to join them again so he read quickly, trying to absorb as much information on summoning charms as he could. Despite his natural thirst for knowledge and urge to surpass Rose's standing in their academic rank, Albus was also quite worried about being unprepared for their O.W.Ls, he could hardly relax without reviewing the occasional charm or jinx just to remind himself that he knew how to do it.

"Oi Albie!" Rose's voice was surprisingly the first to interrupt, "Have you ever noticed any...vibes between Professor Virens and Madame Dunbar?" she giggled, "I see it but Ted disagrees."

     Professor Virens, head of Hufflepuff House and Herbology, and Madame Dunbar, the head healer in the hospital wing. Also possibly the two youngest women in the Hogwarts administration. Over the last three years of their schooling, older Professors that had worked there, some of them for both Wizarding Wars, had begun retiring left and right and been replaced by young, fresh faces.

"Both are quite fit," Scorpius remarked as he walked through the sand towards Albus. Rose nodded in vigorous agreement, "I could see it." he added before placing his hands on his hips expectantly. Albus stared up at him with resignation before snapping his book shut and getting to his feet slowly.

     As Albus wandered to the blanket he pictured Virens standing in the greenhouse. While she was always wearing long robes and some sort of protective gear, her obvious curves and attractive facial features seemed to defy her stuffy fashion. Her appearance had been quite a hot topic following her arrival at Hogwarts, earning her a lovesick team of 5th and 6th year boys that hung on her every word and tended to loiter around between classes and pepper her with questions about her personal life. Eventually, catching on to their undying loyalty, she'd begun to trick them all into doing her grunt work, which they did with clueless enthusiasm.

"Oi," James scowled as he sat down beside Teddy, "That's my future wife you're all talking about!"

"Yeah, yeah," Rose rolled her eyes at him, "Pitiful."

"Scorp, mate," Teddy laughed as Scorpius and Albus gathered to join them on the blanket, "You need a tan. I'm nearly blinded just looking at you." he pretended to shield his eyes at the sight of Scorpius's bare torso and shoulders that had already turned slightly pink after swimming.

     Scorpius laughed goodnaturedly and accepted the sunblock that Rose hastened to hand him. As a Malfoy, he'd always been the palest one in the friend group, besides ginger-haired Rose, but even she could catch a tan at the right times. James and Albus could be quite pale in the winters but during the summer, one kiss of the sun and they would look perfectly golden.

     Scorpius laid down with a satisfied sigh on his stomach, resting his head on his folded arms. Teddy and Rose continued talking in low, amused voices about how they had to observe Virens and Dunbar more closely when the year began to see which one of them was right (Rose was convinced she had an amazing radar for that sort of thing). James took over the job of DJ, now switching the music to play his favorite Strokes album. Albus took out his book again, despite the look of disbelief and amusement he received from Scorpius as the sun warmed him through the fabric on his back.

July 16th - 4:00 pm

"You know," Rose shouted sternly out of the back door, "You lot said you would help with dinner!" Her voice hardly registered over the whoosh of the three broomsticks in the air. Scowling, Rose swept back into the Burrow's kitchen where Albus was dutifully stirring a pot of boiling pasta.

"You can strain that out." Rose said after scooping one of the noodles out and popping it in her mouth, "Then mix the sauce in, yeah?" She huffed, turning to the cutting board where she'd started chopping up a cucumber quite aggressively.

"It's fine you know," Albus said in an effort to calm her irritability, "We'll just make them cook breakfast tomorrow." He shrugged. He heard Scorpius cheer loudly outside and an audible groan from Teddy who was brushing up on his keeping skills.

"I just don't get why they couldn't have waited for me," Rose complained as she dumped the chopped vegetables into the waiting salad bowl, "I'm not on the team or anything but I like to fly just as much as they do." She said haughtily.

"As much as James?" Albus raised his eyebrows.

"Okay maybe not that level, it's borderline erotic," She snorted, "But I still think it's sexist that as the only girl here I'm stuck in the kitchen making them dinner." Albus sighed outwardly.

     It was futile arguing against Rose sometimes, especially because she tended to externalize most of her issues while he'd learned to keep them properly bottled up. Even he'd felt a slight pang of irritation when the boys had all run outside with their brooms the moment they returned from the lake even after they all agreed to collaborate on dinner together.

"Just go out there," he gestured to the open back door, "I'll finish up."

"No. I couldn't possibly leave you in here to do it all by yourself." She shook her head stubbornly as she tossed the salad like it'd personally wronged her. Albus shrugged and dumped the boiling water through the strainer. The steam filled the air above the sink for a few moments before dissipating through the open window.

     Together they continued working while the sun set gradually outside like a ticking clock. Just as they'd begun to set the table, Scorpius, Teddy, and James trooped into the dining room slick with sweat.

"We're going to shower really quick!" Scorpius said breathlessly as if he'd just hopped off of his broomstick a moment ago, "We'll be right down!" The three of them hurried upstairs, fighting over who was going to take a shower in the newly renovated bathroom on the 3rd floor.

"Doesn't it ever bother you that your brother has more in common with your best friend than you do?" Rose asked as she and Albus set out clean glasses. She hadn't meant to be rude, but her comment felt like a slap in the face.

"We have a lot in common, even if it doesn't seem like it." Albus snapped instinctively. He'd heard it a dozen times before.

     His first year at Hogwarts was a dreaded one, the only thing he'd hoped for was to get sorted in a respectable house and to make one alright friend. Getting sorted into Slytherin made him think that his entire Hogwarts experience was doomed from the start, but that's where he made his very first friend. His best friend, Scorpius Malfoy.

     Their names alone were enough to make heads turn. Nobody had ever heard of a Potter, no less the son of THE Harry Potter, and a Malfoy getting on (and being sorted into Slytherin house together). Despite this, they became fast, close friends and persevered through the first few years of schooling together. By year three, the bullying seemed to have ceased and they were no longer called the "Slytherin Squib" and "Voldemort's secret son" but a new sort of speculation had begun in its place.

"But Scorpius is so cool! And you're so....quiet, you know?"

"So you're the brain and he's the fame, I see."

     At first, this had bothered Albus endlessly, causing him to go to great lengths to be seen as cool or interesting. But after he'd tried out for the Slytherin quidditch team during 3rd year and got knocked out for 2 straight days by a rogue bludger he gave up on his pursuits to prove a point to his peers.

"It doesn't matter, Al. And besides, you're way cooler than me." Scorpius had told him earnestly at Albus's bedside in the hospital wing, "I'm just some posh tosser with really nice hair. You're actually interesting." which had caused Albus to laugh so hard he almost passed out again.

     Annoyingly enough, Albus's reputation had experienced a bit of a boost following the events they'd endured in their 4th year. Jumping off trains and fiddling with time, a story twisted throughout the rumor mill of the student population. Yet they still came out as heroes in nearly every version. Albus hoped for their 5th year to be somewhat of a fresh start. He could hardly stand living in his father's shadow, and his older brother James's by extension. Why couldn't he just be Albus?

"Alright," Rose shrugged, "Sorry. I don't hang out with you lot very much, I guess I don't see how things usually are." She conceded.

"You should," Albus said, deciding to be civil and to put his grumpiness behind him, "We need a girl to balance us out," He said before quickly reiterating, "In a good way. Not in a sexist way."

She smirked amusedly at his squirminess, "Maybe. As long as Scorpius doesn't still fancy me."

"Um, who said I fancied you?" Scorpius smirked as he swept into the dining room, toweling off his freshly washed hair. She rolled her eyes as she set down the salad bowl.

"Oh, just you every single year since I've met you!" She exclaimed before giving him a slight shove, "Just help us bring everything to the table, Malfoy." Scorpius grinned before following her into the kitchen. Rose Weasley had always had her own circle of friends, mostly study buddies and a few gal pals that she could have fun with but nobody she'd made a real true connection with. Not like Albus and Scorpius had.

     Rose had always been slightly estranged from Albus's world until recently. All he really knew about her was that she was at the top of their class, annoyingly right above him. She liked quidditch, was brilliant in the realm of transfiguration and charms, and she had ambitions of working in the Ministry of Magic to eventually take over her mother's role as Minister for Magic. She'd had two relationships, both quite fleeting and immature, in her third year and one had been with a girl called Dahlia.

      Hogwarts was a flurry of diversity so her coming out as pansexual hardly caused anyone to bat an eye, besides the small group of devoted purists who still somehow aligned with the belief that purebloods were the superior strain of wizards and old, ancient traditions were of the highest importance. Though, those sorts were far and few between and Rose didn't seem to care about other people's opinion anyhow. Albus had always been extremely curious about what it was like to fancy someone of the same sex and be open about it as well. He made a mental note to ask her about it, though he was doubtful he would anytime soon.

     During their first year, Rose was one of the many who shunned Scorpius for believing he was Voldemort's secret son, conceived through a complicated bit of time travel. Since then she'd matured a bit and realized that this rumor held no merit and was actually quite silly. But the moment she had rejected Scorpius Malfoy on the train he had set out to woo her (mostly for his own entertainment and little to do with being truly attracted to her). But as puberty reared its ugly head, Scorpius's feelings on love and girls had begun to grow quite complex for even him to work out just yet.

"Looks good!" James said as he took a seat at the dining table, already taking two slices of garlic bread for his plate. Rose scowled at him for being impolite as she appeared in the dining room again and he took his hand back at once, waiting for them all to be seated.

"You're welcome." Albus chided, sitting beside Rose.

"Yeah," Teddy appeared at the table, his wet hair still dripping to his shoulders, "We're sorry that you guys had to make it all by yourselves," he frowned sheepishly, "We'll make it up to you, right boys?" He looked around for support. James and Scorpius nodded vigorously.

"Of course we will!" Scorpius assured him, "Big breakfast tomorrow, on us." Teddy began pulling out the seat on the other side of Albus but was stopped short by Scorpius's hand on his shoulder.

"Mind if I sit there actually?" He asked casually.

"Oh, yeah. Sorry mate." Teddy shrugged before switching to the other side and sitting next to James. Scorpius let out a relaxed exhale as he settled in next to his best friend. Albus sat up straighter in his chair before they all began helping themselves to the spread.

"Pretty good," James said, smacking his lips together following a large bite of the pesto pasta they'd prepared, "But I'm so excited to get back to meals at Hogwarts." They all made noises of assent as they filled their mouths hungrily.

At some point, James had turned on the record player in the living room and the voice of Freddie Mercury carried to the dining table. Teddy had gone down into the Weasley's cellar and nicked two bottles of wine that he hoped Molly and Arthur wouldn't notice the absence of.

"We're almost of age," Teddy chirped in the disapproving face of Rose, "At least James and I. But that means you three too by extension." he grinned. Scorpius retrieved some glasses while Albus began stacking their empty plates.

     James pushed his glasses higher on the bridge of his nose as he focused on uncorking one of the bottles with a mangled, old opener that he supposed the Weasleys had been using for several years. Eventually, Teddy took the job over as James could barely concentrate through his ongoing speech about how he was a shoo-in for the position of captain of the Gryffindor Quidditch team and how he could already feel the thrill of victory and hear the roar of the crowd.

"We'll see tomorrow," Rose said giddily, "That's when our letters are supposed to come. I hope I made prefect." she wrung her hands nervously in her lap now, "What if I didn't? I don't know what I'd do! What would I tell my mum?"

"I just hope I pass my O.W.L.s," Albus shrugged, receiving an overfilled glass of white wine, he snorted at Teddy's pouring technique before taking a large gulp, "I hear that two of our teachers are new this term," he said doubtfully. While he enjoyed being taught by less-than-ancient professors he wasn't sure how he felt about newbies being in charge during one of his most important exam years.

"You will, you're a genius," Scorpius whispered bolstering. Albus grinned, he was often caught off guard by Scorpius's compliments as they always sounded especially genuine when they came from him, "I just hope this is our best year yet." 

July 17th - 10:00 am

     The room was shrouded in darkness, the only sound coming from the soft rhythm of their breathing, their bodies a tangle of limbs and bedsheets. Scorpius and Albus had fallen asleep like the dead after killing a bottle of wine between the both of them and dancing to Queen in the Burrow's living room until the wee hours of the morning. They weren't even sure how they'd made it up the four flights of stairs to their guest room, probably not without a lot of stumbling and laughter.

     Their snoring was abruptly shattered by the sound of squealing excitement emanating from downstairs. With a groan, Albus stirred from his sleep, his eyes blinking blearily in the dim light filtering through the curtains. Across the room, Scorpius mumbled something unintelligible and reached warily to his bedside to check the time. He let out a groan as his cell phone flashed brightly in his eyes. There was another squeal, it was getting closer as Rose climbed the stairs.

"What the bloody hell is she doing? It's too early for this." Scorpius growled before sitting up begrudgingly. Albus rubbed the sleep out of his eyes and felt his head pang.

"The letters must've come," Albus mumbled. He was surprised to find himself shirtless but his drunken self had probably thought better of wearing clothes as once again, their room felt like a giant oven. 

     He scrounged on the floor for a moment before pulling on a wrinkled t-shirt that read: 'I went to Weasley's Wizard Wheezes and all I got was this lousy shirt!' Scorpius couldn't stop himself from chuckling as he looked up at him, but his grin was quickly wiped off of his face by a jolt of pain in his skull.

     There came a soft knock on the door which Albus saw as counterproductive, she had already sufficiently woken them up. Scorpius grunted in approval and their door swung open with a bang.

"Just bringing you two your letters!" She said cheerily, and much too loud. Albus scowled as she tossed him a brown envelope. He abandoned it on the bed dismissively so he could search in his bag for any sort of hangover remedy he could find. Scorpius took his and ripped it open carelessly while Rose remained, bouncing impatiently on her heels.

"Just tell us." Albus rolled his eyes, knowing what she was waiting for. She shot him a dangerous look before regaining her composure quickly.

"Well, I er..." She was seemingly less excited to announce her news to them as they squinted up at her, "I got my prefects badge in mine." she finished, pursing her lips.

"Congrats, darling." Scorpius nodded absently as he perused his letter. It contained the usual garble about what supplies they might need for the upcoming year, which books they were expected to buy, blah blah blah. He tossed it aside and reclined back against his pillows with a lazy, satisfied exhale.

"What do you think, Albie?" She asked her cousin hopefully. He'd been rummaging through his bag still, but he suddenly jolted upright and cast her a strange look.

"I..." He grabbed his stomach as he stood to his feet, "I think I'm going to be sick!" he exclaimed with wide eyes before sprinting to the door, bumping Rose aside as he did. She yelped in pain before hearing the bathroom door down the hall slam loudly. She scoffed in disgust and muttered something about him being a "bloody lightweight" before turning on her heel and marching out, no doubt to wake up Teddy and James next.

     Albus wretched for a couple of minutes before wiping his mouth and peeling himself off of the honeycomb tiles. He grudgingly rounded to the sink to brush his teeth with as much vigor as a horned slug crossing the sidewalk, feeling as though he had no energy left in his body. Though, as he returned to his room he felt immeasurably better than he had when he woke up. 

     Scorpius had begun to snooze again, letting out quiet bouts of snoring. Albus sat on the edge of his bed and ripped open his letter, knowing that it held nothing very remarkable in it anyway.

"What the hell?" He exclaimed as a shiny, green, and silver prefects badge tumbled into his lap. He hurried to pull the rest of the parchment out despite the fact that the noise had caused Scorpius to stir awake again, there had to be some explanation! His eyes grew larger and larger as he scanned the letter.

Dear Mr. Potter,

It is with great pleasure that I extend my congratulations to you on your selection as one of Slytherin House's fifth-year prefects for the upcoming year at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.

Your selection for this esteemed position is a testament to your outstanding character, leadership abilities, and dedication to excellence. As a prefect, you will be entrusted with important responsibilities, including maintaining discipline and serving as a role model for your fellow students. I have every confidence that you will excel and carry out your duties with integrity and a sense of pride in representing Slytherin House.

Once again, congratulations on your appointment as a prefect. I look forward to seeing the positive impact you will undoubtedly make on Slytherin House and your peers as a whole.

Yours sincerely,

Horace Slughorn [Head of Slytherin House]

"Whasgoingon?" Scorpius mumbled, his eyes fluttering open. He met Albus's expression of disbelief and horror before his eyes drew to the shiny object in his friend's palm.

"They made me a bloody prefect!"

11:45 am

"Get that thing out of my face, will you?" An irate Albus snapped as his older brother stuck his Quidditch Captain's badge under his nose for possibly the 17th time that morning. James let out a mischievous giggle as Albus swiped for it. Teddy was named co-captain but was being much more humble about it and Rose seemed to calm down about her prefect's badge as well following the news that Albus had received one too. 

"Cheer up, will you?" James rolled his eyes pointedly, "Just because you got the curse doesn't mean we all have to suffer with you!" Albus huffed and stuck his nose back into his Charms textbook, trying to push himself deeper into the cushions of the Weasley's sofa.

"Here, it'll make you feel better," Scorpius said, appearing at Albus's side with a cup of tea.

"Thanks," Albus said, failing to hide his warm smile at the kind interruption. Scorpius nodded, setting the mug down on the side table before joining Rose a few cushions away. She'd been flicking through a fashion magazine before he tore it from her hands quickly.

"Oi!" she snatched it back and smacked him over the head with it promptly, "Paws off."

"I'm bored!" Scorpius whined while Rose bristled and tried to flip back to whatever page she'd been reading before. Teddy wandered into the living room, already nodding in agreement.

"Grandmum and Grandpa are going to be back tomorrow morning," Rose said sternly, "We all agreed that after breakfast we'd actually do the chores that we were meant to do." The rest of them groaned, knowing that she was right.

"Let's just split it up so we can be done as fast as possible, then we can all head down to the lake for a dip." Teddy suggested.

"Alright lads!" James clapped his hands together, eager for anything that involved talking strategy, Albus closed his book knowing that it was futile to try and read anything anymore, "Ted and I will handle the gnomes in the garden, Al and Scorpius can clean the upstairs and Rose the down. Sound good?"

"Sounds fair to me." Rose grinned, knowing that she'd be done tidying the kitchen and living room in a snap.

"The entire upstairs?" Albus and Scorpius exclaimed in unison, clambering to their feet at once.

"Would you two rather do the gnomes?" James raised his eyebrows and crossed his arms expectantly. Albus cleared his throat and pushed his toes into the carpet uncomfortably. Scorpius sighed and shook his head. "That's what I thought, let's get to it." James smirked before leading Teddy into the backyard.

     Rose practically skipped into the kitchen as if doing the dishes was her life calling while Albus and Scorpius trudged up the stairs.

"Wish we could do magic." Scorpius complained as they took on their guest bedroom first. Albus dragged a laundry basket to the middle of the room so they could throw their dirty clothes in it with minimal effort.

"Got to learn to be sufficient without it, I suppose." Albus shrugged before tossing a balled up shirt and scoring it easily. Scorpius noticeably perked up at the idea of making cleaning a game and for the rest of the day he tried making every facet of cleaning into a competition.

"First one to make their bed wins!"

"Okay, you can only mop using your feet."

"Whoever gathers the least amount of trash has to help James and Ted with the gnomes."

"First one to pack up gets to sit out of cleaning the bathroom."

     Albus won this last challenge easily as he'd really only brought a few articles of clothing, half of which were in the washing, and some books. He sat down on the bed with a textbook in his lap but found himself too distracted to read as Scorpius, down the hall, began whistling his favorite song while he scrubbed the bathtub. Albus sank down against his pillows and closed his eyes allowing the melody to put him to a peaceful sleep.

okay idk if anyone has read this far but basically this is the first chap of a scorbus fanfic i want to write. nextgen meets marauders type slowburn friends to lovers scorbus but with teddy james and rose (and later lily luna) in a cute friend group.

[arthurhillmastermind]

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Devastated 💔

fanfic writers you may be safe for now.

also Arthur Hill tour 2025 pls

[honeyandberryjuice]

A Mutual Agreement

summary: arthur gets super drunk over his romantic woes and finds comfort in the arms of abigail relationship(s): abigail roberts/arthur morgan word count: 2,082 warning(s): 18+, MINORS DNI

author's note: i wrote this in the ungodly hours of 4am, eyes stinging, and the need to impress my bestie with some porn. this is my first lil fanfic piece, please be kind to me ;w; tags: this is set before abigail is with john ok, i am an adamant john x abigail shipper & i'll die on this hill just let me have this please, some praise kink and reward stuff idk, arthur being an idiot (affectionate) & not thinking about the consequences of his actions, mutual drunk fucking, let's not think about what this means, top!arthur morgan

🍯 prefer to read on ao3? 🍯

 The crackling of the fire floats softly up to Arthur’s ears, face warmed both by its heat and the bottle of whiskey in his hand. Over the last couple of days, his nights had followed the same routine— He’d done whatever chores needed doing, argued with whoever stood too close to him, grabbed a crate of alcohol, and sat sullenly by the campfire. For the first few nights, several members of the gang had attempted to come over to him and get to the bottom of his attitude, though his expression and biting words had sent them all on their way with a scowl or injured retort.

 Now, the only one left was Abigail.

 The woman had only been with them for a little while now, shorter than some of the other girls but enough for her to get acquainted with the many members of the camp. Arthur wasn’t one to judge— Everyone had to make their living one way or another, and he was glad she at least had people to look after her now. Whatever she chose to do in her spare time was up to her, and Arthur quite honestly couldn’t care less. He’d hardly looked her way during her time here, most essentially because a particular blonde had been keeping his attention.

 His vision blurred as he looked up at her, eyebrows furrowed. Recently, she’d become slightly more… Present around the men, especially John. It didn’t take a genius to figure out that the woman had developed some sort of attachment for him, for whatever reason. He loved John; the younger man was like a brother to him, but he really was only two cents short of a complete imbecile. Arthur truly believed that he wouldn’t ever learn to appreciate a good thing right before him, even if someone were to hammer it into his forehead to stare at in the mirror every day.

 The brunette sighed, clasping the bridge of his nose as the fire swam in front of him. He’d definitely had too much to drink…

 Soft, cold hands brushed against his arm, and the scent of berries, coffee, and fresh linen enveloped him. It took all of his willpower not to suck it all in like his last breath of air. Instead, he focused on trying not to pass out, reaching out his own hand to brace against the support on his arm. “Thanks, Abigail.” He managed, head pounding. The woman’s hands patted him in response before the warmth of her pressed against the side of his leg. 

 She didn’t respond to him, though she’d evidently come closer for some reason. Arthur guessed that maybe she was trying to look after him, though her hands fidgeted in her lap, and her eyes continued to search the camp. 

 Arthur clicked his tongue, pulling himself back up into a respectable sitting position. “Y’deserve better than that damn idiot.” He spat out. His words sounded bitter, even to his own ears, and Arthur wondered if he was really even talking about John at all.

 “Oh, Arthur. You… You don’t know him like I do. He’s sweet— And, well, he…” The first words she’d spoken since sitting with him at the fire, and they were all to defend the flaky outlaw. It infuriated Arthur to no end.

 His hot-headedness sparked easier next to the blaze warming his body, and the response escaped him angrily in his next breath. “Yeah, I bet he is. That boy’s always had a gift for charm, y’know. But he ain’t ever committed to nothin’ in his damn life. Y’better off not wasting yer time.” Words that hit too close to home, that made his chest squeeze as if a boulder flattened it. He pushed it down into the depths of him.

 There was only silence from the woman. It spread for so long that Arthur almost spoke an apology, though Abigail springing forward and grasping a bottle of whiskey from the crate froze it in his throat. Had he ever seen her drink? He decided he’d be much better off without saying a word, and instead leaned back and concentrated on sobering up a little. His eyes went from watching the fire to watching the black-haired woman, her own attention taken by the burning pit in front of them.

 Some time passed; it wasn’t awkward, or tense, but actually rather pleasant, with the crackling of the fire filling in their lack of conversation. It took a little while, and the opening of a new bottle of whiskey, for Abigail to seem to relax. Arthur noticed with some smugness that her attention no longer searched desperately around the camp, but rather she looked at her hands folded in her lap. After a while, she spoke again. “What happened, Arthur? Y… Y’seemed so content before. Did you…” She trailed off, likely thinking her questions were far too personal to ask.

���Arthur’s vision had unfogged slightly, and he leaned forward to give her more of his attention. His eyes were drooping lazily, though he could see her face clearly, features illuminated by the orange glow of the campfire. He realised, with his breath slightly hitching in his throat, that she really was quite beautiful. The next words didn’t hurt as much as they had in his head, the same ones he’d been berating himself with over the last few days. His voice was hardly audible when he said, “I lost her.”

 Their eyes met, and there was no surprise in hers as she looked at him. Maybe she’d already known about Eliza — women’s intuition and all that — or maybe he really wasn’t as good at hiding secrets as he liked to think.

 Abigail’s gaze softened, and her eyes drifted down to his lips.

 Oh.

  Oh.

 Arthur licked them, his thoughts tumbling away as the heat and the drink and proximity of the woman before him hit him. For a moment, he really took her in— the dark hair that reminded him so much of his first love, of the gentleness and sincerity that mirrored so very closely to the one who owned his heart. The three women became one, morphing into the lovely face barely inches from his own.

 He was kissing her before his thoughts began to make sense again.

 Though once the realisation hit him, it wasn’t followed by immediate regret like he would’ve thought. Abigail’s own lips only met his, and didn’t inch away— Instead, she seemed to be full of the same longing as he was. A mutual agreement of desperately needed comfort. 

 He lifted her into his arms, walking towards an empty tent with pure muscle memory. If anyone walked past them or noticed them, they didn’t speak— But Arthur wouldn’t have cared anyway. He needed this, to feel like he, for just a moment, wasn't a monster. That a blonde woman, the mother of his child, didn’t hate him for leaving her. Even if she wouldn’t even know it was for her own good.

 The frame of the bed hit against his legs and caused the two of them to tumble into it. A breathy laugh escaped Abigail, which only made his ears roar at the sensational sound of it. Her hands pulled at his hair, his clothes, his skin and it took all his effort not to roll his eyes into the back of his head. Abigail’s tongue probed at his lips, and the man could only think of how wonderfully experienced this woman was with her mouth, kissing her back with a moan.

 He pulled off his shirt and her hands rubbed down his chest, causing goosebumps to prickle lovingly against them. Arthur fought back his shiver as her nails scraped against him, his lip catching in his teeth as a shuddering breath escaped him. His cock ached against his pants, so he quickly fixed the problem by unbuckling his belt with one hand, the other reaching to touch the now-naked woman.

 Despite the drink causing Arthur to lose focus, he wanted to make this enjoyable for Abigail, too. The earlier roaming hand found its target, and the next groan came out strangled. She was wet. The cockiness came back, and he whispered, “Y’been waitin’ for this, aintcha?” The dark-haired woman nodded, though the motion wasn’t a good enough answer for him. His fingers caressed the opening, and he teasingly rubbed against her clit, eyes hard. “What was that, sweetheart?”

 “Y-Yes. I have.” Her voice was strained as his teasing intensified, though Arthur didn’t make her wait too long before he rewarded her by pushing his fingers into her pussy. The moan that erupted out of her made his cock twitch, and a throaty chuckle came from him as he relinquished it. He made her make that sound. The man wanted to cause her to make many more.

 Hovering over her, he continued to push his fingers in and out of her, holding onto her thigh with his other hand. He watched her with growing smugness as the delightful little sounds she made grew in both intensity and volume. “Arthur—” Abigail gasped, hands gripping into the sheets, “‘m gonna cum.”

 His name from her lips sounded like music, especially with it so strained with pleasure like it was. The man’s movements grew faster, his grip on her thigh harder. “Cum for me, darlin’,” Arthur responded, tone commanding yet encouraging. His mouth teased lightly against the inside of her thigh, and his teeth grazed her skin, begging her to fall over the edge of her climax.

 It didn’t take long before she was coming apart in his arms, legs shaking. Her breath was hot as he pressed his body into hers again, holding her for a moment. “Good girl,” Arthur’s voice positively purred, before he was standing over again. 

 His hands gripped hard against her hips as he pulled her closer to the edge of the bed, where his hard cock begged to enter her. The man teasingly stroked it against the sensitive area, though he didn’t push into her just yet. Arthur’s eyes pinned her, roaming over her heaving breasts before focusing on her drooping gaze. “Y’ready?”

 Abigail can only nod, body still trembling, before Arthur’s pushes himself inside her. The wet heat of her pussy envelopes him, and a deep and hoarse moan comes from him as he fully enters her. “Fuck, y’feel so good, darlin’.” Another breathy laugh from Abigail causes another ache, and he becomes ever more desperate for a release.

 His thrusts grow in intensity, hands still gripping her hips as he slams into her, over and over. Shivers of pleasure roll down his body, and another strangled groan as her nails begin scraping down his back. They dig into him, stinging deliciously as the pressure in his cock grows. 

 Arthur’s hands move to cup her breasts, the calluses of his fingers causing exquisite friction on her skin. He pinches a nipple lightly between his fingers before he’s leaning down and closing his lips around it. The man’s tongue flicks against the skin hardened with pleasure, his own mirroring hers. He grazes his teeth playfully against the nipple, praising her as her sounds become more frequent, “Louder for me, darlin. I want th’whole camp t’hear ya.”

 He’s pounding into her, harder and harder, the noises from Abigail growing into gasps as another orgasm builds up inside her. Arthur growls out, “Y’such a good girl, takin’ all of me so well. Y’my good lil slut, ain’tchu, sweetheart? Y’want me to fill y’up?”

 The dark-haired woman’s response is whiny as she responds with, “Yes. Oh, god— Fuck—” Her body once more trembles as she cums, pussy pulsating so enticingly around his cock. He can feel his own orgasm upon him as he releases another choked moan.

 Arthur can’t fight the building sensation for long before he’s finishing inside her. Abigail’s legs wrap around him, a vice grip, as his cock twitches with the last of his load, warmth spreading through the woman as he pants against her. His hands are shaking as he brushes a hand through his hair, head leaned back as the pulsing of his orgasm subsides. 

 With a wince, he pulls out of her and tumbles onto the bed beside her. His eyes are heavy as he clasps an arm around her, seeking comfort of a non-sexual kind. Abigail’s fingers trail soothingly against his arm, head against his chest.

 Arthur’s eyes flutter shut before he can think about what he’s just done.

[tsukikeimybeloved]

Sad, random fanfic idea that's been going through my head since I watched the latest episode of JJK...

I've been watching The Haunting of Hill House recently, and I finished episode 5 just before I went to watch JJK– so my brain suddenly imagined that scene of Nell and Arthur's ghost dancing throughout the house 😭

What if it was you and Nanami in a dream of yours, after so much time grieving, finally being able to see him again, and talk to him, to to tell him how much you missed him. He smiles down at you, his forehead onto yours while you lean at his touch– the two of you slowly waltzing to your wedding song.

And then it stops.

He looks at you with a sad smile.

"It's time to wake up, dear."

What?

No... Wait, you can't. You don't want to... Please, just one last time... even if it's for a second...

"Don't leave me, please... not again... Don't leave!"

And you wake up... tears streaming down your face, as the final words of your husband echoed in your mind.

"I'm sorry, love. I couldn't come home to you in time."

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

Anyways... I drafted this 💀 I just got to put it out now, and it's kind of half-assed. Hope you like it tho? ahquwiahah

[fallingforyouforeverr]

hey guys...coming back from the dead real quick to ask if anyone would be interested in me writing for F1 drivers? in the time I was gone I found myself falling down the old youtubers -> quadrant -> f1 pipeline (pls god someone save me I am literally obsessed with these silly little guys who drive around in weird circles for a living).