#arthur hill fanfic

[clarkeybabey]

❝ but i'ma be under the mistletoe with you ❞

# prompts; 6: "They kiss under the mistletoe." 7: ^ but A does the, "Oops, I'm holding mistletoe above us, guess we have to kiss." thing.

# playlist; mistletoe - Justin Bieber

# word count; 737

# note; merry christmas to all who celebrate, & Happy Holidays to those who don't<333 i missed writing for arthur so much omg.

The holidays are always a stressful time, however, more than half of your family was abroad for Christmas this year, so you all had chosen to do your family celebrations on New Year instead. Arthur and Lisa were more than happy to have you with them instead.

You spent the morning making and eating a full English, exchanging gifts, and going through their old photo albums much to your boyfriend's protests.

His parents turned in early after a bit of chatter over a few glasses of wine, leaving you lying on the couch stuffed from both dinner and copious amounts of cookies. You tap the arm he has lazily resting on your chest, "'m gonna go get some water," he whines but when you lift his arm he sighs, dramatically letting it fall back against his chest.

"Don't be long," he calls out when you disappear off into the kitchen, his eyes catch a branch of mistletoe on the mantle he presumes his mum set out to add to her decor, giving him an idea.

He listens for you intently, when he finally hears you rummaging through the the freezer for ice, he takes the opportunity to set his plan into motion, he grabs the branch and leans against the door frame, silently watching you.

When you turn, you raise the cup to your lips until you spot him and more importantly the mistletoe he's holding above the door, making you snort, "if you wanted a kiss, you could've just asked," you mumble, shaking your head.

You shuffle toward him agonizingly slow. Arthur reaches out for you, his free hand pulling you into him by the front of your matching, festive pajamas. A confident smirk falls from your face, and a gasp escapes you at the sudden movement.

The feeling of the water swishing in the glass, the only sound now is the ice clinking against it. His voice interrupts the silence, suddenly having dropped an octave compared to earlier, "Oh look at that," his eyes flick up to what's pinched between his fingers, "Guess we might have to kiss, now..."

Setting the glass on the counter next to you, before you hum, "Think you might be right."

He smiles content with the fact that you're going along with things, he shrugs, "I don't make the rules," he pulls you into him impossibly closer, watching how your lips twitch slightly. You're floored and Arthur can simultaneously see and feel it, "May I?"

Smiling once more at how he never fails to make sure you're comfortable, "You may," somehow you've found yourself breathless at his words and demeanor alone. He dips down to catch your mouth with his, facial hair tickles your upper lip when he tilts his head to deepen the kiss.

Arthur's hands, warm and strong, slowly slide under the hoodie you had stolen earlier that morning. As he presses you back against the counter, your bodies locked together, you both freeze at the sound of a voice calling out just behind you, "Arthur, you've got a bedroom for a reason."

Lisa, shit. He steps away from you quickly, running his hands over his face and through his hair, "Sorry, mum," he mutters, he always talks about how comfortable they are with talking about certain things but you find yourself wanting to giggle at how he can't meet her eyes.

"She's a nice girl, she doesn't need to be done on my counter," you can't stifle your laughter now, you watch in your peripheral the way his face twists, "Mum! I understand, please," he pleads, obviously hating this conversation.

Lisa scoffs as she turns on her heels deciding she's said enough to his face, but she continues mumbling about raising him to be a gentleman as she disappears around the corner and shuts her bedroom door loudly.

"That's so embarrassing," he groans, hiding his face in his hands with a sigh. You reach for his wrists, tugging them away gently to reveal his reddening cheeks. "'ts not embarrassing," you reassure him, a small smile on your lips. "It's sweet; she cares."

He shakes his head, letting out a low chuckle as he drops it onto your shoulder. "Such a cockblock," he mutters into your ear. You flick the back of his neck, making him step back, rubbing the spot with a mock frown. "Maybe it's a sign we shouldn't be shagging in your parents' house, hm?"

[viagracex]

Reservations for Two

arthur hill x fem!reader

summary: a dinner reservation leads to an impromptu change of plans. based on the song late for the reservation by arthur hill

warnings: sexual content smut (MDNI)

note: this concept has been in my head since the first teaser of this song so I had to write about it, just a short little one-shot.

2.4k words

Masterlist

₊ ˚ ˚ ₊ ‧ 。☆ 。‧₊ ˚ ˚ ₊ ‧ 。☆ 。‧₊ ˚ ˚ ₊ ‧ 。☆ 。‧₊ ˚ ˚ ₊

Arthur adjusted his tie nervously as he glanced at his watch again. "We really should get going soon, darling. Our reservation is in 20 minutes and you know how particular they are about punctuality at places like these."

You sauntered out of the bedroom, your form-fitting dress hugging every curve. Arthur's eyes widened as he took in the sight of you. "My god, you look absolutely ravishing," he murmured.

Heat pooled in your belly at the hunger in his gaze. You closed the distance between you, running your hands up his crisp white shirt. "Maybe we should skip dinner," you murmur. "I can think of something much more... appetizing."

His fingers tangle in your hair, conflicted. "But the reservation..." he protests weakly, his resolve crumbling as you nip at his collarbone.

"Forget the reservation," you breathe, sliding your hands under his crisp dress shirt. "I'd rather have something else..."

Arthur groans, his hips canting forward involuntarily. "Do you know how long I waited for that table?" But his hands are already roaming, tugging you closer.

"Mmm, probably about as long as I've been waiting to get you out of this suit," you purr, loosening his tie with skillful fingers. "Besides, I hear the kitchen floor here has excellent reviews."

He chuckles, a low rumble that sends shivers down your spine. "Is that so?" In one fluid motion, he flips your positions, pressing you against the cabinets. "Well then, perhaps we should conduct a thorough evaluation."

His lips crash into yours, hungry and insistent. Reservations forgotten, you lose yourself in the taste of him, the heat of his body pressed against yours. Arthur's hands roam feverishly, mapping every curve and plane as if committing you to memory.

You fumble with the buttons of his shirt, desperate to feel skin on skin. As the fabric parts, you run your fingers over the planes of his chest, relishing the way his muscles twitch under your touch. Arthur groans into your mouth, deepening the kiss as he lifts you onto the counte, scattering utensils with a clatter.

Cool granite meets heated skin as he pushes your dress up your thighs. His fingers trace teasing patterns along the sensitive flesh, inching higher with agonizing slowness. You whimper, arching into his touch, gasping as his fingers ghost over sensitive skin. "Arthur," you moan, tugging at his belt. "Please..."

He pulls back just enough to meet your gaze, pupils blown wide with desire. "Are you sure?" he asks, ever the gentleman even as his body trembles with barely restrained need.

In response, you hook a leg around his waist, grinding against him. "Positive," you breathe. "I need you. Now."

A low growl rumbles in his chest as he lifts you onto the counter. His mouth blazes a trail of fire down your neck as he makes quick work of your clothes, leaving you bare and aching for his touch.

With that, he drops to his knees, pushing your thighs apart. The first swipe of his tongue has you crying out, fingers tangling in his hair. Arthur takes his time, alternating between teasing licks and deep, languid strokes that leave you trembling.

You're lost in a haze of pleasure, each stroke sending sparks of fire through your body. You arch against him, panting his name like a prayer. Your hips rocking against his face as pleasure builds. You tug his hair, urging him closer, desperate for more. He responds by sliding two fingers inside you, curling them just so as his lips close around your clit.

Oh god, Arthur!" you cry out, teetering on the edge. He hums against you, the vibrations sending shockwaves through your body. With a few more strokes of his clever tongue, you come undone, trembling and gasping his name.

As you float down from your high, Arthur rises, pressing heated kisses up your body. You pull him close, tasting yourself on his lips as you fumble with his belt. He groans as you take him in hand, stroking firmly.

"Arthur, please," you gasp, tugging at his hair. "I need you inside me."

He rises slowly, eyes dark with desire. "What about our table?" he asks, voice rough. "I waited months for that reservation."

In response, you wrap your legs around his waist, pulling him flush against you. "I've been waiting longer to have you like this," you purr, nipping at his earlobe. "Besides, I'd rather savor you than any fancy meal."

Arthur groans, his resolve crumbling as you grind against him. "You're insatiable," he murmurs, but his hands are already working at his belt.

"Only for you," you breathe, helping him shed the last of his clothes.

Arthur doesn't need to be told again.He captures your lips in a searing kiss, swallowing your moans as he finally, finally gives you what you crave. He lines himself up and enters you in one smooth thrust. You cry out in pleasure as he fills you, your bodies joining in a perfect union. Arthur sets a steady rhythm, each thrust sending sparks of ecstasy through your core.

You wrap your legs around him, changing the angle. "Yes, right there!"

Arthur's hands tremble slightly as he caresses your bare skin, his eyes dark with desire. "God, you're perfect," he murmurs, voice rough with need. His fingers trace the curve of your breast, thumb brushing over a sensitive nipple. You gasp, arching into his touch.

You cling to his shoulders, nails digging into taut muscle as the pleasure builds. The kitchen is filled with the sounds of your passion - breathless gasps, throaty moans, skin against skin. Arthur's lips find that sensitive spot below your ear, alternating between gentle kisses and teasing nips.

He groans, hips snapping forward with increased urgency. "So tight, so perfect."

"Arthur," you moan, fingers tangling in his hair. "So good... don't stop..."

He groans, burying his face in your neck. "Never," he pants. "God, you feel amazing."

You can feel the tension building, that delicious pressure coiling tighter with each thrust. Arthur's movements grow more frantic, his breathing ragged against your skin. You know he's close too.

"Arthur," you moan, tightening around him. "I'm close..."

He reaches between your bodies, fingers finding that sensitive bundle of nerves. "Let go," he urges, his own control slipping. "Come for me, darling."

With a few expert strokes, you're falling over the edge, crying out his name as waves of pleasure crash over you. Arthur follows soon after, burying his face in your neck as he finds his release.

For a moment, you stay tangled together, catching your breath. Arthur presses tender kisses along your jaw, your cheeks, your lips. You card your fingers through his hair, marveling at how perfectly you fit together.

"That was..." you trail off, unable to find words.

"Worth missing our reservation?" Arthur asks with a wry smile.

You laugh, pressing a tender kiss to his jaw. "Worth it," you murmur. "Though I do feel a bit bad about ruining your plans."

Arthur's eyes soften as he gazes at you. "Love, any moment spent with you is better than the finest meal." He brushes a stray lock of hair from your face. "Though perhaps next time we could try for both?"

You smile, nuzzling against his chest. "Both sounds perfect. Though I have to admit, I quite enjoyed our little detour."

Arthur chuckles, pressing a kiss to your forehead. "So did I, darling."

For a moment, you bask in the afterglow, bodies still intertwined. The kitchen is quiet save for the gentle hum of the refrigerator and your slowly steadying breaths. Moonlight streams through the window, casting a soft glow over Arthur's features. You trace the line of his jaw, marveling at how the silvery light makes his eyes shimmer like polished steel.

"We should probably clean up," you murmur, though you make no move to disentangle yourself from his embrace.

Arthur hums in agreement, his fingers tracing lazy patterns along your spine. "In a moment. I'm rather enjoying the view."

You laugh, swatting his chest playfully. "Flirt."

"Merely stating facts," he replies with a roguish grin.

Reluctantly, you both begin to gather your scattered clothes. Arthur's tie is draped over a cabinet handle, your dress pooled on the floor like spilled ink. As you slip back into your garments, you can't help but steal glances at Arthur. His hair is delightfully mussed, a far cry from its usual impeccable style. A light bruise is forming where you nipped at his collarbone earlier.

As you finish smoothing down your dress, you catch Arthur's eye in the reflection of the polished chrome refrigerator. He's buttoning up his shirt, a mischievous glint in his gaze that makes your heart skip a beat. You can't help but admire the way his tailored trousers hug his form, remembering how those powerful thighs felt between yours just moments ago.

The kitchen still bears evidence of your passionate encounter. A few utensils lie scattered on the floor where you knocked them off the counter. There's a faint smudge on the gleaming granite where your hand pressed as Arthur brought you to the heights of ecstasy. The air is thick with the lingering scent of desire, mingling with the subtle notes of Arthur's cologne.

As Arthur retrieves his tie from where it dangles off a cabinet handle, you notice a small red mark blooming on his neck. You can't help but feel a twinge of pride at the sight. He catches you staring and raises an eyebrow, a knowing smirk playing at the corners of his mouth.

"See something you like?" he teases, voice still husky with the remnants of passion.

You saunter over to him, smoothing your hands over his chest as you help him straighten his collar. "Always," you purr, pressing a soft kiss to the mark on his neck.

Arthur's arms encircle your waist, pulling you flush against him. For a moment, you're tempted to suggest a round two.

Arthur chuckles, pulling you in for a tender kiss. As you part, his expression turns rueful. "I suppose I should call the restaurant and apologize," he sighs, reaching for his phone.

You nod, feeling a twinge of guilt. "I am really sorry we missed your reservation. I know how long you waited for it."

He shakes his head, cupping your cheek. "Don't apologize. I wouldn't trade what just happened for all the Michelin stars in the world."

Your heart swells at his words. Arthur dials the restaurant, his free hand absently playing with a lock of your hair as he waits for someone to answer. You lean into his touch, marveling at how such a simple gesture can feel so intimate.

"Yes, hello," Arthur says smoothly. "This is Arthur Hill. I had a reservation for two at 7:00 PM..." He pauses, listening. "Ah, yes. I do apologize for the delay. We ran into some... unexpected traffic."

You stifle a giggle at his choice of words, earning you a playful wink from Arthur, his free hand tracing lazy circles on your hip.

"I understand if you've given our table away," he continues, his voice the perfect blend of poise and charm. "I was wondering if there might be any possibility of rebooking?"

As Arthur listens to the response, you take a moment to truly appreciate him. His shirt is slightly rumpled, a far cry from its usual crisp perfection. A faint sheen of sweat still glistens on his brow, catching the soft kitchen light. His hair, usually so meticulously styled, is charmingly disheveled. You resist the urge to run your fingers through it again.

Arthur's eyebrows rise in surprise. "Oh? Really?" He glances at you, a smile playing at the corners of his mouth. "That's incredibly generous of you. Are you certain it wouldn't be an imposition?"

You tilt your head questioningly, curious about the turn the conversation has taken. Arthur holds up a finger, signaling for you to wait.

"Not at all, sir," Arthur says, his voice warm with gratitude. "We'll be there shortly. Thank you for your understanding."

He ends the call, turning to you with a mixture of amusement and excitement dancing in his eyes. "Well, the restaurant can still fit us in, if we hurry."

You blink in surprise, a flutter of anticipation stirring in your chest. "Really?“

Arthur nods, already moving to straighten his tie and smooth down his hair. "Apparently, they've had a couple of cancellations. They assured me our table is still available if we can arrive within the hour."

You raise an eyebrow, impressed. "That's incredibly lucky. Are you sure you didn't plan this somehow?"

Arthur chuckles, pulling you close. "I assure you, this was entirely spontaneous. Though I must admit, I'm rather pleased with how things have turned out." His fingers trace the curve of your spine, sending a shiver through you. "We got to enjoy our... desert before dinner, and now we can savor the main course."

You laugh, pressing a quick kiss to his lips. "Well then, we should probably get going. Wouldn't want to keep them waiting even longer”

As you both scramble to make yourselves presentable, you can't help but marvel at the serendipity of it all. The kitchen, which moments ago was a backdrop for your passionate encounter, now buzzes with renewed energy as you prepare to depart.

Arthur pauses by the refrigerator, using its reflective surface to check his appearance. You step up behind him, reaching around to adjust his collar, your fingers lingering on the warm skin of his neck.

"I think we might need to cover this up," you murmur, gently touching the faint mark you left earlier.

Arthur chuckles, turning to face you. "Let them wonder," he says with a wink.

You smile at his cheekiness, feeling a rush of affection. With one last adjustment to his collar, you both head out, leaving the warmth of the kitchen and the echoes of your previous activities. As you step into the cool evening air, Arthur slips his hand into yours, squeezing gently.

The city lights twinkle around you as you make your way to the restaurant, the streets bustling with the usual night time festivities. Yet, in this moment, it feels as if you two are in a world of your own, wrapped in the magic of an unexpected, perfect night.

[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

[clarkevision]

George Clarkey | Interruptions

Summary: You and George are on a date when you are interrupted

The restaurant was perfect, in that understated way George always seemed to find. Cozy booths lined the walls, each lit with the warm glow of hanging Edison bulbs, and soft jazz music hummed in the background. It wasn’t too fancy, but it wasn’t casual either—just the right amount of charm to make the night feel special.

George sat across from you, his elbow resting on the table, his chin propped in his hand as he gave you that familiar, mischievous smile. His hair was slightly messy, like he hadn’t quite managed to tame it before he left the house, and his shirt—simple but fitted—clung just enough to remind you why you couldn’t stop looking at him.

“So,” he said, tilting his head slightly, “did I manage to impress you with my choice of venue? Or are you going to roast me for not picking somewhere with a view of the Thames?”

You laughed, shaking your head. “I think this place is perfect. Honestly, I’m more impressed you didn’t go for something over-the-top ridiculous. No themed restaurants, no 20-course tasting menus… Who are you, and what have you done with George Clarkey?”

He gasped in mock offense, placing a hand over his chest. “Wow. I invite you on a romantic evening, and this is how you repay me? Ruthless.”

“Romantic evening, huh?” you teased, arching an eyebrow. “That’s a big claim for someone who picked a place based on its five-star Yelp reviews.”

“Okay, first of all, Yelp doesn’t even exist here. And second, it’s not the restaurant that makes it romantic—it’s me,” he said, leaning back with a self-satisfied grin.

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t help laughing. “Sure, George. Whatever you need to tell yourself.”

As the evening went on, the teasing and laughter gave way to softer, quieter moments. Between bites of food and sips of wine, you talked about everything and nothing—your favorite childhood memories, places you wanted to visit, the kind of future you dreamed of.

George had a way of making even the smallest things feel important. He listened like every word you said mattered, his eyes never leaving yours, his expression shifting with every twist and turn of the conversation. It was in those moments that you felt the depth of what you had with him—something that went beyond the jokes and banter, something real.

“You know,” he said, his voice lower now, “I’ve been looking forward to this all week.”

“What, dinner?” you asked, feigning nonchalance even as your heart started to race.

“No,” he said, shaking his head slightly. “You. Spending time with you. Just… being with you.”

You felt your cheeks warm under his gaze, and for a moment, you didn’t know what to say. He always had this way of catching you off guard, saying something so genuine and unexpected that it left you speechless.

“You’re such a sap,” you finally said, but your smile betrayed how much his words had meant to you.

“Only for you,” he said, grinning as he reached across the table to take your hand in his.

By the time the plates were cleared and the bill was paid, the restaurant had begun to empty out, leaving just a handful of tables occupied. The soft hum of the music and the dim lighting made the space feel even more intimate, like the rest of the world had melted away.

As you both stood to leave, George hesitated for a moment, glancing around before looking back at you. “Wait,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper.

“What?” you asked, confused.

“I just… I don’t want the night to end yet,” he admitted, stepping closer. “Can we stay a little longer?”

You nodded, unable to hide your smile. “Of course.”

He led you over to a quieter corner of the restaurant, where a small booth sat tucked away from the main floor. The atmosphere felt different now—more private, more charged. As you slid into the booth, George sat beside you instead of across, his leg brushing against yours.

For a moment, neither of you spoke. Then, slowly, George reached up to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear, his fingers lingering against your cheek. “You’re beautiful, you know that?” he said softly.

Your breath hitched, and before you could respond, he leaned in, his lips brushing against yours in a kiss that was slow and deliberate, like he was savoring every second.

You kissed him back, your heart racing as you leaned into him, his hand sliding to the back of your neck to pull you closer. The world outside seemed to disappear entirely, leaving just the two of you in this perfect, stolen moment.

But then—

“Well, well, well. What do we have here?”

You froze, your lips still inches from George’s, as the unmistakable voice of Arthur Hill cut through the air like a knife.

Slowly, you turned your head to see him standing at the entrance of the restaurant, holding a pint in one hand and wearing a grin so wide it could rival the Cheshire Cat’s.

“Oh my God,” you muttered, your face burning with embarrassment as you pulled away from George.

Arthur, clearly enjoying himself, sauntered over, his eyes twinkling with amusement. “Clarkey, mate, you didn’t tell me you were going on a date tonight. Thought we were mates, huh?”

George groaned, running a hand down his face. “Arthur, can you not?”

“Oh, come on. Don’t be shy now,” Arthur teased, plopping down on the seat across from you. “You two looked very cozy back there. Don’t let me interrupt—carry on.”

You buried your face in your hands, mortified. “I can’t believe this is happening,” you mumbled.

George laughed softly, clearly torn between annoyance and amusement. “Arthur, seriously, can you not ruin this for me?”

“Ruin it? I’m enhancing the moment,” Arthur said, gesturing broadly. “What’s more romantic than a third wheel with excellent commentary?”

You peeked out from behind your hands, shooting him a glare. “You’re the worst.”

“I’ve been told that,” he said, unfazed. “But honestly, I’m happy for you two. Clarkey’s been talking about you non-stop for weeks, so it’s nice to finally see him make a move.”

Your eyes widened, and you turned to George. “You’ve been talking about me?”

George’s face went red, and he scratched the back of his neck awkwardly. “Uh… maybe a little.”

Arthur snorted. “A little? Mate, you’ve been practically writing poetry.”

“Okay, that’s enough,” George said, standing up and grabbing Arthur by the arm. “I think it’s time for you to leave.”

Arthur laughed but didn’t resist as George dragged him toward the door. “Fine, fine. I’ll let you two get back to your little love fest. But just so you know—I’m telling Chris all about this.”

“You do that,” George said, shoving him out the door.

As George returned to the table, his cheeks still faintly pink, you couldn’t help but laugh. “That was… something.”

“Yeah, sorry about that,” he said, sitting down beside you again. “Arthur has a talent for showing up at the worst possible moments.”

“It’s fine,” you said, smiling. “Honestly, it’s kind of funny. In a horrifying, mortifying sort of way.”

George grinned, taking your hand in his again. “Well, for what it’s worth, I’m glad we had this night. Even with the interruption.”

“Me too,” you said softly, leaning into him.

And as the night went on, you realized that no amount of interruptions could take away from what you had with George. Because even in the most awkward, unexpected moments, he still made you feel like the only person in the world.

[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.

[phie04]

*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!”

[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.

[viagracex]

Arthur Hill Masterlist

Requests : OPEN

[ ❁ fluff ✧ smut ⛆ angst ☆ personal fav]

MAIN MASTERLIST

NOTE: All fics should be fem!oc and fem!reader unless specified otherwise

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A R T H U R H I L L

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S E R I E S

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N/A

M U L T I - C H A P T E R

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N/A

O N E - S H O T S

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Love, Lily ⛆ ☆ - summary: arthur hill meets lily, a woman who captivates him instantly. After a mysterious disappearance, he's left heartbroken with only one question, why? (a sadder take to the song Lily.) 3.3k words

Reservations for Two ❁ ✧ - summary: a dinner reservation leads to an impromptu change of plans. based on the song late for the reservation by arthur hill. 2.4k words

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[raventrigonsdaughter]

Ciri is the perfect fanfic crossover absurd character and i will die on this hill, u can put her everywhere and make it work, cyberpunk? She canonically did it, king arthur legends? Also did it, our real world? Did it, u can write her in the Middle Earth, on Oz, on the HP universe(meh but i know a lot of people like it), arcane, hunger games, Mass Effect, Elder Skrolls, Fallout, Game of Thrones/ASOIAF and more and it would all canonically fit it's insane, like imagine her trying to put her work as witcher to good use in these places, LOTR? Easy, frodo step aside i doubt it would affect someone like her who exists outside of that time and space. Oz? Wicked? Glinda toss a coin to that witcher and she will find elphie for u(ciri as a bisexual queen would also seduce her and be another magical bi woman glinda falls for hear me out). ASOIAF? Dany would find herself with a very powerful friend who knows whats she's going through (dany is basically empress ciri ending lets be honest, that kid is a shounen protagonist forced into rule) AND SO ON. I get people are more attached to geralt for now but it baffles me how ciri is looked over when i know damn well if she was a man people would be way more obsessed over all that power she has lmao

That's the Lady of Time and Space, The Child of Elder Blood, daughter of Yennefer and Geralt, Zireael and the new face of this franchise start putting respect on her name i'm begging

[darlingdreames]

*knock knock* *peeks around door* Hi, all! I’m showing up 14 years late with a Starbucks, but I am here!

I haven’t been on Tumblr in a minute (like a long time) but I do consider myself an OG because this place used to be my home. Literally the only site I’d visit for hours at a time. I’ve cycled through many fandoms (with no side blogs) and now I’m back with an OBSESSION with INCEPTION. Particularly the dream husbands Eames and Arthur.

I don’t know how this fandom or this ship has escaped me for so long, but I am balls deep in it now. I’ve been reading Inception fanfic for about a year now, and I would love if anyone has any recs! Also, if you have recs of blogs I should follow that will inundate me with Eames and Arthur gossip/lore/gushing/nonsense I’d be forever grateful!

Stuff (fic) that is my jam:

The Psycho Heroes series (A/E) by FiaMac - For realzies, I’ve read this series probably 15 times already in the short time I’ve been in the fandom. It is my absolute FAVE.

The Day series (A/E) by RurouniHime - I’ve also read this series many times, particularly UnDays. Ugh, so so so good.

The Trembling of the Migratory Birds (A/A/E) by eretria - I’m not opposed to some threesome action as long as Arthur and Eames are somewhere in the mix and oh ho ho this fic is a doozy.

Meant To Lead A Man Astray (A/E) by kyrene - This was so fun to read and hot af so I do go back to read it occasionally just to get my mind off of a bad day.

I Seem To Be A Verb (A/E) by Aja - A Notting Hill AU. Like omfg as if I need to say more. Fucking magical is this fic.

Presque Vue (A/E) by rageprufrock - No words. Just ugh *chef’s kiss*

Aaaaaaanywho, those are just some of the MANY fics I have bookmarked on AO3. If anyone thinks there is Arthur/Eames fic I should read or even Arthur/Eames/Other or even Eames/Other (particularly another Inception character) please, gimme ALL the fic recs.

The tags I most search for in Inception fics on AO3 are: #hurt Eames, #possessive Arthur, #protective Arthur, and of course #Arthur/Eames.

I hope there are still some of you out there that want to gush about these stupid dream husbands in love! ❤️

[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

[mswmaximoff]

Time to start writing ✨FANFICS✨

I’ve been debating on and off for the past month on starting to write again. This time I’d love to start writing for some of my favorite brits!! I don’t know what prompts to start with and who to do them for. So I’m opening my inbox for requests. I can’t promise they’ll be amazing, but I will do my best to write what y’all want ❤️

With that being said, I will write for:

George Clarkey

Arthur Hill

Arthur TV

Chris MD

Harry Lewis

WillNE

James Marriott

And if you don’t see a name here you want, please ask, I might be willing to write for them!!

Out of respect for spouses, I won’t be writing for those that are married/engaged.

I’m pretty open to a lot. If you don’t know if I’ll write it and it’s a “touchy/taboo/sensitive” subject, just ask and I’ll let you know.

Thank you!! ❤️❤️