cat

key: ☆ = smut ✿ = fluff ⦿ = other (aus, drabbles etc)

ukyt:

will lenney:

real man ☆⦿

lover ☆⦿

arthur hill:

jury duty ☆

are you listening yet? ☆

slow hands - series masterlist

harry lewis:

lessons in chemistry ☆

chris dixon:

hurricane ☆

threefold ☆

james marriott:

cuffing season ☆

taste ☆

arthur frederick:

lazy affection ☆

the machine of a dream ☆

threefold ☆

stephen tries:

Arthur wouldn’t consider himself inexperienced, per se. Lack of opportunity was the phrase he preferred to use when asked, followed by a well-time deflection or a joke to clear the air. 

It wasn’t for lack of trying, God no. He’s a singer, for Christ’s sake. He’s had his fair share of drunken kisses and sloppy handjobs in the bathroom at a party or in the back of his tour bus in a precious stolen moment away from the spotlight. The thing was, they just….never progressed further. It was always inevitable that whoever he was hooking up with would get bored after watching him cum a minute in or fumble with the buttons on their jeans, or tire of solely making out, climbing off of his lap in search of someone more hands-on. 

It was fine, honestly. He never really thought much about it, throwing himself into his music and filming to put his mind off of it. And it worked, for the most part. Oftentimes he found himself too busy to even think about sex, his mind filled with lyrics and chords and filming schedules and video ideas and whatever else managed to worm its way in there. Whenever the urge did strike him or the feelings resurfaced, as they often did, it was easy enough to tide himself over. A hand shoved down his pants and his own imagination giving him all he needed to scratch the itch until the next time. 

That was, until he met you. 

Arthur fully believed, in no uncertain terms, that you had been crafted especially for him. 

You were perfect in his eyes. Sweet, kind, funny, absolutely gorgeous, generous, supportive, he could go on. He’s not one to believe in love at first sight, but he doesn’t think there’s any other way to explain his feelings towards you. The first time you’d met had been for one of the many pub outings he always found himself tagging along to - you were there with Becky, squashed in next to her with your hand curled protectively around your drink, just watching. He thinks that’s part of what drew him to you in the first place - you weren’t loud and rowdy like his friends, demanding attention and laughter. You were quiet, happy just to observe and let others take the spotlight. He’d brushed of Chris and George’s knowing looks and smirks when he’d asked Isaac to switch seats so he could sit next to you, more focused on the way his heart hammered wildly against his ribcage when you met his gaze for the first time that evening. 

From there, it was almost inevitable. You and Arthur just….clicked. It didn’t take long for you two to start dating, and you were living together within the year. Your friends asked if it was ‘too soon’, brows furrowed in concern and confusion. You’d always shrug, saying it just ‘felt right’. And it did. 

Living with Arthur was a dream. He was actually competent, unlike some of your past boyfriends. He knew how a diswhasher worked, knew how to cook and clean in a way that didn’t come across as overly performative, and to boot, he was an amazing kisser. 

You’d discovered that early on into your relationship. He loved nothing more than to gather you into his arms and press little kisses all over your face until you were doubled over with laughter, or to plant you in his lap and kiss until you were both breathless and flushed. He loved every part of it, could spend hours doing it. 

But, the longer you lived together, the more you seemed to notice that….that was it. You and Arthur would kiss, hands would wander, but they’d never get further than a gentle grip at your waist before he was pulling away, detaching your lips with a murmured excuse against your lips. He’d gently shift you off or away, and you’d pretend not to notice as he adjusted himself in his trousers. 

You let it slide, at first, thinking he was just nervous. You hadn’t really been together for that long, maybe he was just making sure you were actually serious before getting more involved. It didn’t bother you, not at first. You made it work.  Arthur was a big advocate for ‘self-care’, and so there were a few times where you’d taken matters into your own hands together, both of you spread out on your shared bed, gazes locked on each other as you worked yourselves to orgasm. It was good. It was also, however, a temporary fix. You couldn’t deny that you loved watching as Arthur stroked himself to the sight of you, your own hand busying itself between your thighs, spreading your slick around your clit in tight circles until your thighs shook - but it just wasn’t enough. 

You’d never considered yourself particularly needy, but it seemed that Arthur unlocked parts of you that you’d had no idea existed. Whenever you were around him, every little thing set you off. Even something so simple as him opening a bottle of water for you, his ringed hand gripping tight around the neck, the veins flexing in his hands, and you were done for. Or you’d catch a whiff of his cologne as he breezed past, and you’d find yourself squeezing your thighs together against the sudden heat you found between them. Your body craved him, but you just weren’t sure how to get there. It was as if there was a barrier between you, an insurmountable wall preventing you from getting what you wanted. 

Arthur largely didn’t talk about sex with you. Not that he didn’t talk about it full stop - he was a man, after all. He was more than comfortable letting filthy jokes and innuendos falling from his mouth when he was with his friends, and had no shame in leaning into the jokes they made. But, aside from your little trysts in the bedroom when the ache got to be too much, it was as if it didn’t exist. Days turned into weeks turned into months, with nothing past kisses to sate you. Normally, going without sex wouldn’t be an issue for you, but again, Arthur was different. You’d never felt like this with anyone else, never experienced such a deep attraction to not only him, but his personality. His kindness and endless generosity only served to make him all the more attractive to you, which in recent months had turned into your whole being craving your boyfriend in that more intimate way, a deep-seated need to have him know you like no one else had bothered much to care about. You’d had sex in the past, sure, but it had always been with guys who had been more concerned about their own pleasure and the bragging rights of saying they’d fucked you, never about you. 

You wanted Arthur to know you. You wanted it so badly it scared you. And you were almost certain that he did too. 

So, you made the executive decision to breach the subject first. A bold move that you would never have had the confidence to make even three months ago. Arthur had, once again, brought out the best in you. 

You chose a day where neither of you were particularly busy, wanting to make sure you did this right. It was going to be a difficult conversation, but you told yourself you were prepared for any outcome. You loved Arthur, and he loved you. You could make it work. 

It started slowly. You didn’t want to spook him. You were perched in his lap once more, your lips moving together over and over as you kissed, tongues slipping into each other’s mouths in a rhythm that had your head spinning. Just as you felt Arthur’s hands drift downwards, his inevitable pull away from you looming on the horizon, you decided now was your moment to strike. Your hands drifted down from where they’d been wrapped around Arthurs’ neck to where his hands now rested lightly on your waist, gripping his wrists to keep him in place. 

He blinked up at you, eyes wide and dazed with lust as he looked up at you, trying to understand what was happening. You sat back on his lap, and you didn’t miss the way his hips twitched slightly at the sudden added pressure on his cock, which you could feel was beginning to harden against your thigh. 

‘Arthur, can we talk for a second?’ You asked, voice gentle and calm. Arthur swallowed, blinking rapidly as he processed your words. His hands dropped from your waist, settling on his thighs as he focused on you, nodding slowly. 

‘Yeah, of course. What’s up?’ He asked, the nerves in his voice apparent as he spoke. Your heart melted a little as you looked at him, at the earnestness and nervousness you saw swimming in his eyes. You reached out to cup his cheek, gently rubbing your thumb over the soft skin as you carefully climbed off of him to address him properly. You figured that having you sat in his lap might not be entirely fair for this conversation. You wanted him to be honest, swayed by nothing but his own thoughts and feelings. You took a deep breath before speaking, your heart pounding in your chest. 

‘Is there a reason you always pull away when we’re doing this?’ You asked. Arthur froze, eyes widening like a deer in headlights. His mouth opened, closed again, then opened as he tried to figure out what to say. He wasn’t expecting this conversation to happen so soon - he’d known, deep down, that it was bound to come up sooner or later, but he’d thought he’d at least have a little more time to think, to prepare what it is he was actually going to say. 

He wasn’t ashamed to be a virgin, that wasn’t it. Okay, maybe he was a little ashamed. He couldn’t help it. It was hard not to, especially in a society like this one, where it was practically expected that men would have had sex before they were his age, or generally have done literally anything else apart from making out and over-the-pants stuff. It was an ugly part of him, tucked away in the back of his mind, only to come out during late nights or lonely days on tour when he didn’t have you to comfort him. 

‘No-no, I- I just, I never-’ He stuttered, his cheeks flushing bright red as he scrambled to reassure you. You shushed him quietly, silencing his rambling as you reached out to take one of his hands, holding it gently in yours as you stroked your thumbs over the soft skin. 

‘Arthur, it’s okay, love. I’m not mad at you, not at all. I just want to know if I’m making you uncomfortable, is all.’ You said. Arthur immediately shook his head, curls flopping wildly with the movement. 

‘No, it’s not- it’s not you, I promise. It’s just- I’ve never- never done this before. Like- sex, I mean. And I just don’t want to mess it up with you because you’re just- you’re so special to me, so I just sort of- sort of leave before I have the opportunity to make any mistakes, you know?’ He said in a rush, his words blurring into each other as he rapidly tried to explain himself, his hands flying as he gestured. You just watched, nodding along, his words effectively stunning you into silence. 

‘You’ve never had sex before?’ You said, cutting off his rant. Arthur’s mouth snapped shut, his gaze dropping to his lap as he fidgeted with his rings. 

‘Well- no. I’ve done, like, other stuff. But no- no, I’ve never- actually….y’know.’ He said, pointedly keeping his gaze fixed on the ground as he admitted his secret. It was your turn to be stunned, words failing you as you processed his words. 

‘Do you want to?’ 

Your question sliced through the tension between you, the silence suddenly deafening as it landed heavily between you. You waited for Arthur’s response, mentally flicking through the appropriate replies you could give for any possible answer. 

‘It’s okay if you don’t, by the way. Like, ever, if that’s what you want.’ You added quickly, your heart skipping a beat as you had the sudden realisation. Arthur’s eyebrows shot up, confusion written clearly on his face. He hadn’t even considered that. His chest felt tight at the open earnestness on your face, your eyes wide and genuine as you regarded him, hands folded in your lap and idly fidgeting with the hem of your shirt. 

Arthur shook his head, making a noise of disagreement as he opened his mouth to speak. 

‘No, no, I do want to, it’s not like that. I’d- I’d love to make you feel good. I just- I don’t really know how.’ He said. You huffed out a small laugh, the noise drawing Arthur’s attention, his head finally lifting to shoot you a curious look as you shifted on the couch. 

‘What, you’ve never made a girl cum?’ You asked. The crude language had Arthur’s cheeks burning, more so as he slowly shook his head. Shame curled low in his gut at your answering laugh, though it was quickly cut off. You composed yourself, reaching out once more to take his hand into yours, patting it gently in apology. 

‘Sorry, baby. I shouldn’t laugh. It’s just- you’re you. Singers usually get all the girls, don’t they?’ You asked. Arthur relaxed a little at your conversational tone, leaning back slightly against the couch cushions, dragging his free hand through his hair. 

‘Yeah, you’d think so, wouldn’t you? But no- it’s just- it’s not a choice, I mean. I have like, done other stuff, but I’ve usually been on the- on the receiving end, if you know what I mean. Wait no- that sounds bad- I mean, like, the people just got bored before I could do anything in return, you know?’ He said. You nodded along, rubbing soothing circles on his hand as he talked, his gaze fixed on the ceiling - he knew if he looked you in the eye right now, he’d probably start crying. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d talked to someone about this, or even been this vulnerable in general. It was new. It was kind of exhilarating. 

‘Hm, okay, I get it. So you’ve just done like, what, hand stuff then?’ You asked. You knew your words were probably just a tad too crass, but you figured it was the best way to sort this out, if he knew exactly what you were talking about. Arthur nodded again, gesturing vaguely. 

‘Yeah, pretty much. But, like I said, I’ve normally been the one receiving, so….’ He trailed off, letting his hand fall back onto the couch. You squeezed his hand reassuringly, humming in agreement. 

‘I get it, it’s okay. I’m just trying to figure out where you stand with all this stuff. Like, so I know what I need to help you with. If you want, of course.’ You told him. Arthur’s head whipped up, his gaze locking with yours for the first time since this conversation started. His head spun, a million different scenarios of what you could possibly mean running through his head at breakneck speed

‘Help me? How?’ He asked, incredulous. You smiled, tilting your head to the side, letting your expression do the work. You heard Arthur inhale shakily as it finally clicked for him. He shifted slightly on the couch, thighs pressing together as he sat up straighter. 

‘You’d- you’d do that?’ He asked, clearing his throat against the sudden tightness he found there. His heart hammered erratically against his ribcage as he processed what you were insinuating. You nodded, tracing your fingers over the back of his hand in slow circles, your light touch sending fireworks bursting under his skin, every nerve alight with anticipation. 

‘Of course. If that’s what you want, too, of course. I mean- do you want that? With me?’ You asked, pulse jumping with a sudden spike of anxiety, the words coming out of your mouth before you could stop it. It was Arthur’s turn to laugh, a small huff of disbelief escaping him. He reached out to you, winding an arm around your shoulders before pulling you into him, tucking you against his side. 

‘Love, I genuinely want nothing more in life than to make you happy. I would love for you to teach me how to make you feel good. I definitely want that with you- God, I want it so badly sometimes that I can’t think. I want you. All of you.’ He said, swallowing thickly as he rest his head against the top of yours. Your heart squeezed at his words, paired with a flash of heat as his voice dropped slightly with the admission, taking on a gravelly tone that had your cunt throbbing. 

‘I want you too, Arthur. So bad. Jesus- so fucking bad. I don’t know what you’ve done to me, but I just like- I feel like I’m in fucking heat or something whenever I’m around you.’ You said. Arthur laughed for real this time, the sound bursting out of him as he shook with laughter. 

‘Oh, well, we can’t have that, can we? Best get to teaching then, hm?’ He said, reaching down to land a firm smack on your ass. You gasped, swatting at his thighs. 

‘Shut up! And no, not yet. We still have things to talk about.’ You said, grumbling slightly at the resounding sting leftover from his palm. Arthur groaned in annoyance, dragging his palm over his face. 

‘What do we have to talk about? Surely it’s just like, you teach me and then I do it, right?’ He said. You sighed softly, wriggling out of his grip to sit up properly once again. 

‘Well, in principle, yeah. But like, you don’t really know what you like, do you? So, we need to talk about that. The last thing I want to do is do something you don’t like or don’t want, or something that ends up hurting you.’ You explained. Arthur considered this for a moment, before nodding. 

‘Okay. Well, that makes sense I guess. But how do I know what I like if I’ve never done it before?’ He asked. You shifted slightly, shoving all images of Arthur spread out on your bed as you tested him over and over to see what made him tick, saving them away for a later date. 

‘Well, either we can pull up a list or something and you can look and see what takes your fancy from that. Or,’ You paused, gauging his reaction, watching as his brows furrowed minutely. His eyes were blown slightly, a thin ring of soft brown surrounding his pupils, his breath coming in short breaths as he tried as hard as he could to pretend that talking about all this wasn’t affecting him as much as it was. 

‘Or?’ The word was barely a breath, filled with anticipation and barely-disguised lust. 

‘Or, we can use a more….hands-on approach to finding what you like.’ You finished, cunt throbbing more insistently now as you caught a glimpse of the slowly hardening shape of Arthur’s cock in his slacks. 

‘Does that sound like something you’d like to do?’ 

Honestly, Arthur couldn’t think of anything else he’d like to do more than that. His mind immediately filled with images of you on top of him, underneath him, a variety of objects and words held in your hands or whispered in his ear. He shivered slightly at the phantom sensation, fisting his hand in the couch to stop himself from reaching down to give his cock a squeeze. 

‘Yeah- yeah, I think- I think that’s something I’d like to do.’ He answered. You raised your eyebrows, noting his clenched fist with a faint touch of amusement. If it was this easy to work him up just with a conversation, the rest of your endeavours were bound to be interesting. 

‘You think? Or you know? I need you to be sure, baby.’ You clarified gently. Arthur just nodded, knuckles white as he gripped the arm of the couch. 

‘I know. I want this- want you. Please.’ He said breathlessly. Heat bloomed low in your gut at the admission, especially as the faint edge of a whine overtook his voice. Your eyes fluttered closed briefly, quelling the urge to just climb into his lap and fuck him stupid then and there. You slowly sat up straight, brushing your hair behind your ears, fixing Arthur with a gaze that made his heart skip a beat, burning heat boring into him as you regarded him. 

This was going to be fun.