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summary: arthur goes to a club with his friends chris and george, who quickly notice he’s distracted by a girl at the bar. you. arthur is convinced you’re “too pretty to be single,” so he hesitates, but his friends push him to go talk to you.
notes: sorry guys i haven’t posted in ages but i’m slowly getting back to it
—ARTHUR WOULD BE LYING if he said thag the club wasn’t usually his scene. at times yeah, too loud, too bright, too many people who somehow looked like they’d stepped out of a music video. but chris had insisted —“mate, you need a night out. your songs are starting to sound like you wrote them in a cave.” and george had backed him up with a slap on the shoulder.
so here he was, drink in hand, pretending not to regret leaving his guitar behind. “alright,” george said, leaning in over the booth table, “scout the room. rate the vibes.” his voice was just loud enough to carry over the music, but not subtle enough to go unnoticed.
arthur rolled his eyes… then froze.
because he saw her.
you were standing at the bar, elbows propped up, stirring the ice in your drink absentmindedly while talking to a friend. the neon lights shifted across your face pink, then blue, then gold like even the club didn’t know how to settle on one way to make you look incredible.
chris followed arthur’s stare and let out a low whistle. “ohhh. i get it. yeah. yeah, fair enough.”arthur tore his eyes away immediately. “stop. don’t—don’t start. she’s—”
he laughed awkwardly, shaking his head. “she’s too pretty to be single. there’s no way.”
george blinked at him. “that’s the excuse? really?” he nudged arthur’s shoulder. “go talk to her.”
“no.” arthur nearly choked on the word. “absolutely not. she’s obviously here with someone.”
“is she?” chris arched a brow and scanned the area. “i don’t see anyone clinging to her. not even a lonely boyfriend doing the ‘hovering’ thing.”
arthur looked again… briefly, cautiously.
you weren’t holding hands with anyone.
you weren’t glancing at a boyfriend.
you were just… there. laughing, glowing, alone.
his stomach flipped, which he hated. “i’m not walking up to someone like that,” he muttered, “just to get rejected. i’d rather write another sad song.”
“that’s exactly why you need to talk to her,” george said. “before you put out an ep called ‘missed again, again.’” chris snorted hard enough he nearly spilled his drink.
“mate, you write songs where you’re scared to talk to a woman? where’s the poetic bravery? where’s the main-character energy?”
arthur shot him a glare. “well that’s not true and this is not helpful.”
“oh, i’m being extremely helpful,” chris said, already standing. “because if you don’t walk to that bar in the next ten seconds, i’m dragging you there myself.” george stood too. “and i’ll be narrating it, loudly.”
arthur groaned into his hands. “why are you both like this?”
“because,” chris said with a smug grin, “you’re our mate. and…. she’s looking at you.”
arthur’s head snapped up so fast his neck nearly cracked. you were looking at him, eyes soft, curious, lingering a little too long for it to be accidental. when you caught him staring back, you didn’t look away. you smiled, cheeks growing pink by the second.
it was small, but real. arthur’s heart tried to escape through his ribs.
chris whispered, “go.”
george echoed, “go.”
arthur swallowed.
he stood.
and before he could think of a thousand ways this could go wrong, his feet carried him toward the bar towards you — faster than his brain could protest. you turned just slightly as he approached, as if you’d felt him coming before you saw him. your eyes met his with an ease that surprised him. you didn’t look startled or confused. you looked… pleasantly expectant.
“hey,” arthur said, voice steady in a way he genuinely didn’t expect. it wasn’t smooth, but it wasn’t clumsy either.. just him.
“hey,” you echoed, soft smile tugging at your lips like you’d been waiting for him to speak first. “i saw you from over there and, uh… you seemed too pretty not to say hello to and thought i’d come say hi before my friends tried to stage a whole intervention about it.”
you laughed—a real laugh, warm and inviting.
“were they giving you trouble?” arthur smirked. “oh, absolutely. they’re embarrassing. you’ll probably meet them in about five minutes when they decide i’m taking too long.”
“well, i’m glad they encouraged it,” you said gently. “otherwise we might still be doing that thing where we sneak glances from across the room.” arthur’s face lit up, his eyebrows lifted. “you were doing that too?”
you raised your glass. “maybe.”
arthur felt something loosen in his chest—like the tension he’d been carrying for the last hour had realized it wasn’t needed anymore. your eyes widened a little, warmth rising in your cheeks. he laughed nervously. “yeah. thought i was pretty sure you weren’t single.”
you shook your head. “i am.”
arthur blinked. “you are?”
“i am.” your smile softened. “i’m y/n … and you’re arthur hill, right?” his brain short-circuited. “wait—you… know me?” you nodded, leaning a little closer. “i like your music. your EP is amazing”
he didn’t know what courage felt like, but whatever it was, he suddenly had enough of it.
“thank you! well,” he said quietly, “maybe i’ll get to write another one. if i’m lucky.” you bit your lip, fighting a smile. “buy me a drink and we’ll see.”
he signaled the bartender, and you shifted a little closer—not enough to be bold, just enough that he could hear your voice without you raising it.
“i like your jacket, by the way,” you said lightly. his smile widened. “oh thank you, you look gorgeous too by the way… as if i haven’t said it enough already” arthur giggled, mentally slapping himself at the feeling of how awkward this could get but didn’t.
the bartender slid a fresh drink your way. arthur paid before you could even reach for your wallet, and you gave him a look—curious, not annoyed.
“you didn’t have to do that.”
“i know,” he said simply. “wanted to.” you swirled your straw, eyes flicking up to meet his again.
“so,” you said, leaning against the bar beside him, “what exactly did your friends say to get you over here?”
arthur smirked, glancing over his shoulder where chris was very obviously pretending to check his phone. “oh, the usual. that i’d regret it. that i need to stop writing songs about missing chances and actually take one for once.”
you laughed again, softer this time.
“well… i’m glad you listened.”
“me too,” he said.
your fingers brushed his on the bar barely, accidentally-on-purpose—and neither of you pulled away.
before either of you could say anything else, george’s voice rang out across the club:
“ARTHUR COME HERE! WE’RE ORDERING CHIPS, D’YOU WANT ANYTHING? ”
arthur closed his eyes in pain.
you nearly doubled over laughing. he groaned. “i’m so sorry.”
“no,” you said, wiping a tear from your cheek, “please don’t be. i love that. they seem fun.” arthur sighed; “well my friends probably need me to pay or something but can i possibly get your number?” he asked more shy this time. “yes of course” you smiled as you took his phone and put your number into his contact list. “i’ll see you soon”
- will is a teasing kind of boyfriend, he’ll either insult you or be your biggest fan.
‘do you like my dress, will?’
‘no…’
‘what?’
‘just kiddin’ darlin’, you look beautiful.’
- you are the one wearing the trousers in the relationship without a doubt.
- every weekend, if there is a formula one race you guys will watch it, and sometimes he will even take you to the races.
- you’re always working behind the camera when he films with james or mikey.
- aby and orla are literally your work sisters, you’ll take the piss out the boys consistently with them.
- you and james consistently argue over who is actually in the relationship with will.
‘he hangs out with me all the time!’
‘james, i literally sleep with him.’
‘y/n!’
‘it’s trueeee.’
- you guys makes the dirtiest jokes consistently.
- there are a million inside jokes between the two of you that nobody ever understands.
- literally the sweetest when you’re on your period or ill, will do anything for you; will go out to the shop and buy you anything, will lay his hands on your stomach to ease the pain.
- he’s your hype man.
- your hands are always in his hair, if you’re out, you’ll fix his hair: you’re just obsessed with his hair.
- he wants to spend every waking hour with you so before you finally move in together, he was spending every night at yours.
- if you go anywhere without him, he encourages you to wear something of his and he will DRENCH it in his aftershave.
‘jeez will, this jumper reeks of you.’
‘as it should, pet.’
- his hand will always be on your thigh, if you’re sat together he will place his hand there like it’s a muscle memory.
- will was never a romantic before he met you, but you forced him to watch romcoms which he now looks to as inspiration when he wants date ideas.
- you guys without fail with make one night a week to spend time with one another.
- he’s the kind of man to offer to carry all of your stuff and then complain about it afterwards.
‘your bag is so fuckin heavy.’
‘you asked to hold it, will!’
- he goes on runs with you all the time 😉
- he definitely has a polaroid of you and him in the back of his phone, which he proudly shows off in any conversation with anybody new.
- you guys share a playlist with one another, which mostly consists of james’ music and sam fender. (i love sam so much and i know will does too.)
- he’s your uber driver.
‘willlllllll….’
‘ugh fine, i’ll give you a lift.’
IN ARGUMENTS…
- you both match eachothers energy, if he’s shouting so are you, if you are calm so is he.
- you both are quite mature when it comes to arguing, it’s always for valid reasons, nothing silly.
‘will, you said you’d come and meet me but didn’t!’
‘i was busy, pet!’
‘well you couldn’t said that, but you didn’t!’
- you guys would probably end up going to sleep and forgetting about the argument by the morning.
- neither of you hold grudges after the fact.
- you end up making jokes out of it, like using what one said against the other person in a jokey style.
- he does petty things in arguments just to piss you off.
‘will! you put my cup on the fucking top shelf!’
‘i know, my love, it’s supposed to be there.’
‘no it isn’t, get it down.’
‘no. not until you say please.’
‘ugh fuck off.’
- if you’re giving him the silent treatment, he’ll most DEFINITELY try and win you over by doing things that drive you crazy (sometimes sexual 😋).
NSFW!!…
- this man is a whore for makeout sessions, the steamy kind.
- his grip on your hips never subsides, he’s obsessed with holding your hips.
- always wants you on top, cowgirl is a go to.
- very dominant but without meaning to be.
‘take your top off. now.’
‘damn. okay.’
‘no, no, no. i didn’t mean to be harsh, pet.’
- you always end up clawing his back up.
- will always end up making you laugh midway through sex.
‘will you can’t make me laugh when i’m about to ride you.’
The front door felt a lot heavier than usual as you pushed it open. Your feet ached, your brain was buzzing with leftover adrenaline, and all you wanted was to curl up in bed and sleep for three days. You’d just finished a shoot day that had dragged on three hours longer than scheduled, leaving you completely drained both mentally and physically.
The flat was surprisingly quiet as you walked through to the kitchen and living room with the area being left the same as when you left this morning minus the odd cup and plate on the side. however, the mountain of shoes by the door confirmed that all three boys were home.
As you approached the bedroom you shared with George, a muffled, distorted voice drifted through the door. You’d completely forgotten he had a stream scheduled for tonight, but you were far too tired to care about being ‘camera-ready’ or avoiding the background.
You pushed the door open slowly, expecting to see him locked in a focused on a reacts video with one of his many friends or trying out a new game that his fans had begged him to play. Instead, you found George sitting in his gaming chair with his face hilariously distorted. His cheeks were puffed out like a squirrel, his eyes were watering from the effort, and he was currently struggling to shove another marshmallow into his mouth.
"Chuh-bbee Bunn-eee..." George managed to grunt, the words barely intelligible as he tried to fit the sweet into his mouth and not dribble all over himself.
He caught your reflection in the monitor, turning his head slowly to look at you. A stray bit of white marshmallow fluff was stuck to his bottom lip, making the sight even more ridiculous. On his second monitor, the chat was moving so fast it was a total blur of "LOL" and frantic comments mocking him that he was defiantly not going to have a girlfriend after this.
“Oh, George,” you sighed, as a tired, breathless laugh escaping your throat. You didn’t ask why he was doing it, nor how long he’d been at it; you just shook your head, your eyes half-closed in a mix of amusement and fatigue.
Ignoring the thousands of viewers watching the interaction and George with his shocked face, you grabbed your pyjama's from the bed and headed into the en-suite bathroom. You scrubbed off your makeup, let your hair down, and changed into soft, comfortable clothes that being a pair of short and George's tops.
When you returned, George was still battling the marshmallows, his focus unwavering. You slipped into bed, hoping to stay out of the camera’s frame, and let the exhaustion take over without being disturbed.
Just as you were drifting off, you felt the bed dip as George climbed over towards you to kiss your cheek, he whispering a soft, “I love you, have a good sleep my girl” into the quiet room.
“Love you more, Georgie” you mumbled back with a small smile on your face, your voice thick with sleep.
As you finally fell into a deep rest, the last thing you heard was George’s low, quiet voice as he turned back to his chat, debating which ridiculous challenge he should tackle next.
Night Out
You had been invited out for a much needed and overdue night out with the girls them being Liv, Faith, Flo, Sabina, and Becky. it had been a couple weeks since you had all seen each other and your plans had finally made it out of the groupchat.
You’d left George at home earlier that day, where he’d been buried in footage and meetings, hoping to get a new video edited and uploaded by tomorrow.
By the time you stumbled back through the door at one in the morning, your head was spinning slightly from the amount of alcohol that you had consumed, and you fully expected him or more like hoping to be tucked up in bed.
After successfully wrestling your shoes off and leaving them in a heap, you made your way toward the bedroom. You pushed the door open, only to find the room bathed in the familiar, cool blue glow of his monitors. George was still live, his energy surprisingly high despite the long hours he had worked today.
“Hi, Georgie,” you chirped, a tired but happy smile plastered on your face when you saw your favourite person. He spun around in his chair, his expression softening into an amused grin the moment he saw you.
“Hello, poppet. Did you have a good time with the girls?” he asked, his eyes tracking you as you wandered over and settled yourself right onto his lap. You didn't care about the stream; you just wanted to be close to him.
“It was brilliant. I missed them so much,” you murmured, resting your head heavily on his shoulder and pressing a lingering kiss to his cheek. George nudged you gently, gesturing toward the screen. “Say hi to chat,” he prompted.
You tilted your head up to look at the lens, squinting slightly at the brightness. “Hello, chat! I hope you’re all making fun of him and keeping him humble tonight,” you said. It was a rare moment of direct interaction from you as you normally lingered in the background leaving George to it, and the viewers immediately lost their minds, the chat scrolling at a terminal velocity.
user121: George is literally blushing rn user021: Oh, she is absolutely wasted lol user444: please!! she needs to be in more streams
You stayed there for a while, tucked into his chest as he reacted to videos sent in by his community on socials.
About half an hour later, the warmth and comfort of being close to George followed by the long day had finally caught up to you. George looked down and noticed your features had gone soft and relaxed; he knew you were seconds away from passing out right there in his arms.
Realizing you’d end up with back problems in the morning if he let you sleep in the position on his lap any, he paused his stream momentarily. “I’ll be right back, guys,” he told the mic. He gently helped you stand, guiding you through the hazy process of taking off your makeup and swapping your dress for one of his oversized t-shirts. Once you were tucked safely under the covers, he pressed a final kiss to your forehead before heading back to finish his night knowing it will only last ten extra minutes before joining you.
Shock Horror
You and George had been dating for about eight months when you decided it was finally time to take your first holiday together. His fans were still adjusting to the relationship as he had only recently confirmed it on stream after a stray photo started circulating around socials, and he’d wanted to get ahead of the rumors before the internet took it too far. With both of your schedules finally clear, you decided to book everything before work could interfere.
You were currently in the living room with Arthur and Chris, perched on the sofa with your laptop balanced on your knees. George was tucked away in his room, and you were under the impression he was in a serious meeting with his editors.
You were busy navigating flights, hotels, and excursions, trying to cross-reference the meticulous list you’d made the night before. Arthur and Chris were trying to be helpful, but their constant bickering over seat assignments and hotel breakfast options was starting to make you overstimulated, it came to the point of the bickering that you hoped they knew this holiday for both you and George only.
Frustrated by the chaos of the two men, you stood up and headed for George’s room, hoping he could provide the quick decision making the other two lacked.
You knocked briefly and pushed the door open without waiting for an answer. He turned in his chair as you walked in, looking slightly startled. “Can I have your passport? Also, please help me with this,” you said, sounding a bit frazzled. “The boys are driving me mad and I just want to get this booked.”
George froze, looking from you back to his monitor. Your eyes followed his gaze, and your heart dropped when you realized the "meeting" was actually a live broadcast—and you had walked right into the center of the frame. You let out a tiny gasp and practically dove behind the door to hide yourself, your face flushing a deep crimson.
George quickly toggled his camera off and muted the mic, chuckling at your panicked reaction. “Hey, darling, don’t worry about it. Come here,” he said, beckoning you over. You crept back in, staying carefully out of the camera's line of sight, your eyes still wide with shock. “No one is saying anything bad, I promise. They’re just laughing because they know the boys are useless.”
He kissed your forehead to calm your nerves and then toggled the camera back on, revealing his face to the thousands of waiting viewers who were already clipping the moment and sharing it all on TikTok and the comment section of the stream.
“Chat, give me one minute. The Mrs needs some assistance,” he told them with a smirk. He took your laptop and expertly navigated through the booking forms, finishing the task in seconds. He handed the computer back to you with a cheeky, triumphant smile.
“Thank you,” you whispered, still a bit red-faced from the accidental debut. You beat a hasty retreat back to the living room, leaving George to explain the interruption to an incredibly excited chat.
> 7 fanfics - one for each sin - featuring arthurtv, willne, chrismd, george clarke & arthur hill. if you love messy, angsty & steamy, this is the series for you.
> cw: nsfw content, mentions of alcohol, angst, avoidance. more specific warnings on each fic.
> note: i'm baacckk with something new! for this, i'll be trying out a new writing style so any feedback would be greatly appreciated! now i have more free time, inspiration and a revamped account, i am determined to consistently be active & release chapters :P. hope you guys enjoy reading this as much as i enjoyed writing <3.
> taglist: if you would like to be tagged when i release each chapter, leave a comment below.
see below for summaries of what is to come! :3
CHAPTERS —
PRIDE — willne
> pairings: ceo will lenney x employee.
> your job was pretty standard, it kept you afloat with an acceptable wage, only required occasional overtime and for the most part, had tolerable working conditions. however, there was a single factor that made you want to uproot yourself and leave the company behind entirely - the man you worked for, high and mighty ceo will lenney, who constantly discarded your efforts as if they were worthless, as if you were worthless. you could tell exactly who he was, a prideful and hubristic bully. or so you thought until he lured you into his office.
GREED — george clarke
> pairings: player george x uninterested girl.
> with such a large following, george clarke was on the radar of many girls. his charisma and charm easily manipulated them into falling for him so he had them right where he wanted them. this was too easy, so much so that it was almost boring to him. it was something that came absolutely natural to him - until he set his eyes on you. a girl who wasn't so malleable and who he was completely unable to read. quite frankly this was terrifying, yet even more enticing. it was no secret that he loved a challenge, loved the chase and more importantly, the victory.
WRATH — arthurtv
> trope: good old enemies to lovers.
> working as influencers in such close proximity to one another meant you and arthur were bound to cross paths - you just didn't anticipate to clash the moment you collaborated. your goals were too different, your ideas for the long term were poles apart - the partnership just wasn't viable. everything begins to change when you are invited to work together again, and arthur unexpectedly admits his regrets to you.
ENVY — arthur hill
> pairings: yearning arthur x ex girlfriend.
> turbulent breakups were your specialty, while they were not so good for your mental health, they were absolutely brilliant for your music career. having found success practically overnight after pouring your emotions into a song you thought you would release as a one off, you were preparing to release a full album. honestly, the process of writing it had been healing and you were finally in a place to celebrate your success fully with a party. even if arthur, who had been listening to your music and keeping up with your life, found his way onto the guest list, right?
LUST — arthurtv
> pairings: yearning arthur x somewhat oblivious reader.
> arthur didn't know it was possible to be addicted to someone until he met you. he craved your touch - hungered for it really. every time you walked into the room, he felt compelled to move towards you, to feel you, to be close to you. the temptation you carried was something he didn't believe he was strong enough to continue resisting.
GLUTTONY — chrismd
> pairings: hard working chris x neglected girlfriend.
> being the girlfriend of a successful youtuber was a dream - a comfortable life, and both of you were able to pursue the careers you loved. but sometimes the pressure of social media meant chris had to work harder and harder, dedicating hours upon hours to perfecting work, curating edits and planning future endeavours. you admired his work ethic, of course, but with work consuming all of his time, where did that leave you?
SLOTH — willne
> pairings: nonchalant will x yearning reader.
> inconsistency - apparently your favourite trait in a man. after months of hanging on, waiting for will to step up and be a proper boyfriend, praying for just one bouquet of flowers, you snap. sense had slapped you in the face and turned your idea of him completely upside down, you were done with delusion and ready to move onto bigger, better things. you had finally let go, so why couldn't will?
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
✓ Live Streaming✓ Interactive Chat✓ Private Shows✓ HD Quality✓ Free Actions
Free to watch • No registration required • HD streaming
It always makes me sad when people say TV talks too much when he's usually just passionate about something or excited to be spending time with his friends :( could you write something where reader is hanging out with the ukyt crew and the others kind of tune Arthur out when he's talking about something but when he gets quiet because he realizes the others aren't listening, reader says "hey, I'm listening" so he keeps talking?
What were you saying?
Atv x reader - fluff
a/n: This was requested in August so its really late but its one of the only requests i didnt delete because im gonna be so real I face the same thing that Arthur faces a lot with my friends so I just really wanted to write this 😭
masterlist
cw: nothing much but the gang might seem a bit mean
The flat is loud in the way it only ever is when everyone is there. Someone’s brought snacks that are already half gone. There are bodies sprawled across sofas, arms slung over chair backs, people talking over each other without even trying not to. The TV is on but no one’s watching it—just background noise for the chaos.
George is mid-story, gesturing wildly with a bottle in his hand. Isaac’s leaned against the counter with Liv tucked into his side, both of them laughing before the punchline even lands. Arthur Hill and Chris are arguing about something trivial while Yasmine adds commentary purely to wind them up.
You’re curled up on the end of the sofa, knees tucked under you, watching it all like it’s a familiar kind of storm.
“And I’m just saying,” George finishes, “if it wasn’t that deep, then why did it take three of us to figure it out?”
Arthur Hill squints at him. “Because you lot are idiots.”
“Oi,” George says, affronted. “That’s not fair.”
Chris leans forward, eyes lighting up with mischief. “To be fair, George does have a massive head.”
There it is.
Everyone reacts at once—laughter, groans, George instinctively reaching up to pat his hair like he’s checking whether it’s grown since last time.
“It’s proportional!” he protests. “It’s because I’m smart.”
Isaac laughs. “All that intelligence has to fit somewhere.”
Liv adds, deadpan, “You’re basically a Funko Pop.”
The room erupts. George’s laugh is loud and unbothered, hands thrown up in mock surrender. Someone makes a comment about his brain rattling around like a DVD at the back of a drawer.
You laugh too—but out of the corner of your eye, you notice Arthur.
Arthur Frederick has been quiet for a few minutes now, leaned back in the armchair slightly apart from the main cluster. He looks relaxed, legs crossed, hands loosely folded, eyes unfocused like he’s been somewhere else entirely. You recognise the look—it’s the one he gets when something in the conversation nudges a thought loose and his brain just goes.
Right on cue, he straightens a little.
“Well, actually,” he says, voice cutting through the noise with earnest certainty, “head size doesn’t really correlate with intelligence at all.”
There’s a brief lull, not silence, exactly, but a dip in volume as people register he’s speaking.
Arthur sits forward now, warmed up by the opening. “There was this study I was reading, like, a proper analysis, where they looked at cranial volume versus cognitive performance across a pretty large sample size, and the correlation was basically negligible.”
He gestures with his hands as he talks, fingers opening and closing like he’s shaping the idea in the air.
“The thing is, people assume bigger brain equals smarter, but intelligence is way more about neural efficiency than size. It’s about how well-connected everything is. You can have a slightly smaller brain with denser synaptic connections and outperform someone with a larger one.”
George nods politely for about three seconds before his attention drifts back to Chris, who’s whispering something that makes him grin. Isaac checks his phone. Arthur Hill reaches for another snack. Liv leans over to say something to Yasmine, who bursts out laughing.
Arthur keeps going—at first.
“And like, even within humans, the variance is massive. There’s also this misconception that—” He slows, eyes flicking around the room. His hands pause mid-gesture. “—that size is predictive, but it just… isn’t.”
No one’s looking at him anymore.
The realization hits gently, but it hits.
He stops talking.
There’s a small, almost imperceptible smile that crosses his face—the polite kind, the one people use to smooth over the feeling of having misjudged the moment. He leans back into the chair again, folding in on himself just a touch, gaze dropping to his hands.
“Anyway,” he murmurs, more to the room than anyone in it.
The conversation swells back up around him like he was never speaking at all.
Your chest aches.
You’ve been listening the entire time. Not just out of politeness—out of genuine interest. You were already following where he was going, already curious about the study, already anticipating the way he always links one topic to another like stepping stones only he can see.
You shift closer, turning your body toward him.
“Wait,” you say, gently but clearly. “Arthur—what were you saying about neural efficiency?”
He looks up, surprised. “Oh—uh.” He blinks, like he needs a second to recalibrate. “It’s… it’s not important.”
“It is,” you say, shaking your head. “You said the correlation was negligible? But how did they even measure cognitive performance?”
Something changes in his face.
It’s subtle, but unmistakable—the way his eyes brighten, the way his posture straightens without him even noticing. The awkwardness melts away, replaced by quiet excitement.
“Right—yeah. So they used a combination of standardised cognitive tests and longitudinal performance metrics,” he says quickly now, words tumbling out. “Which obviously has its own limitations, but what was interesting was how consistent the results were across different demographics.”
He leans forward again, elbows on his knees.
“And this actually links to something else I found really cool—brain size comparisons across species. Like, cetaceans, for example.”
You smile. You knew it was coming.
“So whales and dolphins have absolutely massive brains—some species have brains way larger than ours—but again, it’s not just the size. It’s the encephalization quotient. That's basically how big the brain is relative to body size.”
He gestures excitedly now, eyes locked on yours like the rest of the room has faded into static.
“Dolphins, especially, have incredibly complex social structures and problem-solving abilities, and a lot of that comes down to cortical folding and neural density rather than sheer volume. Some researchers even think their emotional processing is more sophisticated than ours.”
You nod along, asking softly, “That's why they're so social.”
“Yes!” he says immediately, delighted. “Exactly. There’s evidence to suggest their brains are wired for empathy and cooperation in a way that’s genuinely comparable to humans. Possibly even more nuanced in some respects.”
He laughs under his breath, a little self-conscious but happy. “Sorry, I’m rambling.”
You shake your head, resting your chin in your hand. “No, I love this. Tell me more.”
Arthur exhales, smiling properly now—wide and warm and a little disbelieving.
“Well,” he continues, slower this time, more comfortable, “there’s this theory about how intelligence isn’t a straight hierarchy at all. It’s more like… different kinds of optimisation. Humans are good at abstract reasoning, cetaceans are incredible at social cognition, corvids at problem-solving—it’s all just different expressions of complexity.”
The noise of the room carries on around you—laughter, teasing, someone calling George a conehead again—but Arthur doesn’t notice anymore.
SUMMARY ౨ৎ small blurb of you and arthur on see it off, and you get asked to share embarrassing stories.
WARNINGS ʚ mentions of smut. fluff. drinking. make out mention. i can't remember where i got this idea from, it's just been in my notes after some late night tumblr scrolls.
౨ৎ
"okay, so, our next round is about your relationship!" becky clapped, pretending to cheer as you and arthur did the same, clapping along. a small woop left your mouth, before becky poured you half a glass of guinness
"i want to start off strong," she said, handing a glass to you and arthur.
"fucking hell, where's half my guinness gone?" you joked, as arthur laughed and agreed.
"budget didn't stretch that far," becky deadpanned, before continuing, "tell me your most embarrassing story about each other."
a small 'oooh' was heard from arthur, before you cheersed and downed your drinks.
"most embarrassing story about you.." arthur muttered, looking down at the table, before he cut himself off when seeing your wide grin.
"oh for fucks sake," he moaned, covering his face with both hands, as you giggled.
"tell me, tell me!" becky chanted, slapping the table, causing arthur to roll his eyes and cover his face with his hoodie.
"so basically," you started, having to hold a giggle back, "me and arthur were having some alone time, so to speak, and you know, things got heated-"
"as they do," becky piped in, causing arthur to snort.
"as they do, and after a pretty long make out session, he looked at me dead in the eyes and said — AND I QUOTE — 'i wish i was a seahorse so i could carry your babies.'" you heard becky's laugh fill the studio, as arthur ran a hand down his face, trying to stop his embarrassment.
each time becky had started to ask another question, or arthur had tried to defend himself, another round of laughter was cutting them off.
"anything to say for yourself, arthur?" becky asked, once her laughter had finally died down.
"i just- i dont-" he seemed to sigh in defeat, "i was in a very delirious state." he muttered, a small smile on his face, as his cheeks were flushed. you reached over and pinched one, causing him to nudge you slightly.
"so delirious he wants me to hit him up seahorse style," you added, causing him to deadpan into the camera. you and becky both laughed at this.
becky poured another drink, 3 baby guinnesses, as you also looked into the camera and said, "we didn't have sex that night, for anyone wondering-"
"shut up." arthur muttered, covering your mouth and putting you in a headlock jokingly.
your best friend arthur tells harriet rose on an episode of mummy's boy that he sometimes prefers kissing over sex. it leaves you with much to consider... and you have a long overdue conversation.
some delicious fluffy steamy goodness for the girl dying on the hill hill @cheekytv
MDNI / 18+ !!!
word count: 1.8K
—
it's wednesday evening. you'd had a long, stressful day at work, but wednesdays were always a little bit easier on you. you knew the day would end as it always did — curling up on the couch with a cup of tea to watch the newly released episode of mummy's boy.
arthur was your best friend. he had been for ages, since you were children, and lisa had always been like a second mum to you, especially after you lost yours when you were a teenager. you didn't get back to buckinghamshire nearly as often as arthur, but watching their podcast every week filled you with so much love and peace. it was comforting, like getting a little slice of home even from london.
this week's episode featured harriet rose, who you loved, so you wasted no time getting settled and hitting play.
there was no denying the lingering feelings that had come up over your years of friendship with arthur. they came in waves. sometimes you'd catch him looking, and he'd go all cute and pink. sometimes he'd catch you looking, and he'd get all smug and cheeky like he didn't normally go all cute and pink when the roles were reversed. you'd watched each other grow. and he had grown.
arthur was beautiful. tall, lean, tattooed, talented, confident. you'd witnessed his voice go from squeak central to genuinely angelic firsthand. he was in your top 5 spotify artists every year. you loved him.
arthur was always a pretty open book — there was little you didn't know about him — but you'd not spoken with him about romance and sex much, so you were always pleased to glean some tidbits of previously-unknown information about him from the show, like today...
arthur: I love a smooch so much. I love smooching.
arthur: sometimes like, genuinely more than sex, sometimes.
harriet: *gasp* and that's hot. from a guy. that's hot.
you couldn't help but scoff at his admission, despite the smile breaking out across your face. of course your charming, hilarious, handsome best friend was also disgustingly romantic. the bastard.
you couldn't help but wonder if it meant he was a good kisser.
as you listened through the rest of the episode, your mind kept wandering back to that bit. suddenly you could not stop thinking about kissing arthur.
it wasn't like you hadn't thought about it before — every cozy late night together watching films, every drunken stumble home at 2 AM with his strong arms holding you steady, every time he made you laugh so hard you cried... fuck. maybe you thought about it more than you realized.
how was it that you'd memorized the shape of arthur's lips without having ever touched them? shit. how was it that you'd just now been slapped in the face with the totally cliché and deeply inconvenient reality that you were painfully in love with your best friend?
you feel your chest tighten, panicking slightly as the thread of suppressed emotions you'd pulled on began to unravel rapidly. why the fuck did this passing comment about being a fan of kissing make you spiral so hard?
pacing back and forth around your flat, you stare at your phone screen — thumbs hovering over the keys in contemplation to draft a message to arthur. the texts go back years and years. there were no hellos, there were no goodbyes. he's always there, you're always there. your conversations never ended, they'd merely paused to let the rest of your life happen around you.
you: movie night? x
finchy binchy: hell yeah, omw x
you exhale. why were you feeling so weird? this is someone you'd seen at least weekly for nearly two decades. he already had a key to your flat. he already knew your PIN number. he was already your emergency contact. why was your stomach in knots?
—
arthur strolled in 20 minutes later with a bottle of something and a warm hug, as always. the tension in your shoulders doesn't go unnoticed by arthur, but he tries to ignore it for now.
as you sit and chat, your mind feels like it's glitching. one minute you're fully panicking while pretending to be normal, the next minute, he's made you laugh, and you've somehow forgotten that you were panicking, and you do feel normal for a second. but then you remember, and it happens again. it's giving you whiplash.
"so, uh..." arthur begins, trying to maintain a normal conversation. "what'd you think of today's episode? harriet's great, eh?"
nodding, you hum affirmatively. "yeah, it was a fun watch. she's hilarious."
"... that's all? you usually have more to say," he observes.
"oh, well... yeah, it was a good episode. I don't know," you offer half-heartedly with a tight-lipped smile. you know you're being stupid. you know you're driving him insane. you can't help it. you're gnawing on the inside of your cheek so hard you can taste iron.
his brows furrow as he turns fully to face you, acutely aware of the fact that you've hardly made eye contact with him all evening. "are you okay, mate? did I like, do something?"
"no, no, you're fine. I'm fine. just, weird mood I guess," you reply quickly, trying (and absolutely failing) to reassure him as you feel the panic building in your chest. he knows you too well and cares about you too much. he's not dropping it — he never would.
arthur frowns, unconvinced. "c'mon, just tell me what's going on," he pleads, reaching out for you, placing one hand on your shoulder and the other on your knee. "I want to hel—"
"I can't stop thinking about kissing you!" you blurt out as you flinch at his touch, face going bright red immediately.
he jerks his head back slightly, startled by your outburst, before processing your words. he fights the corners of his own mouth from curling into a smirk, trying to get more answers before letting himself celebrate. "w-what?"
"I... during the episode, you said the thing about... really loving kissing... and I just like, couldn't stop thinking about it after..." you force out, mild humiliation seeping out of your pores.
"about... kissing me?" he double-checks, trying not to sound smug.
you run your hands through your hair before burying your face in them, a low, exasperated chuckle escaping you. "yeah. s'fuckin' stupid. think I'm just tired. and it's probably been even longer than I thought since I kissed someone last. just fucked me up a bit. couldn't get out of my head. sorry, ignore me."
silence fills the space as arthur hesitates, unsure how to best respond aside from a brief shake of the head, a brushing-off of your unnecessary apology. the quiet sends chills up your spine, makes your blood run cold in fear. you've fucked it. you've destroyed your oldest friendship. you've ruined your life.
the sheer horror of it all leaves you no choice but to lift your gaze to meet arthur's, his pretty hazel eyes wide and glued to you. to your surprise, you don't see disgust, or anger, or even discomfort. he's looking at you pretty much the same way he always has. attentively, curiously, softly... but suddenly you see it, and you feel it: the fire quietly burning in the depths of his stare, shining in the golden sparks decorating his kaleidoscopes of green and brown that only lit up when you were in the room.
oh. was that always there?
"why are you looking at me like that?" you mutter, nearly whispering.
he experimentally, carefully puts his hand on your knee again, and this time, you let it stay. "because I think about kissing you all the time," he gulps. "and I never thought I'd hear you say that."
you inhale sharply at his confession, brows furrowing. "what do you mean?"
"I've thought about kissing you more times than I can count. like, for years," he reveals, almost out of breath, and your eyes go big. "and I know you're saying you were just thinking about it today but I can't keep pretending I haven't been thi—"
"it wasn't."
"what?"
"it wasn't just today," you shake your head feverishly. "I couldn't tell you how long ago it was that I thought about it for the first time. it's been years for me too. since we were kids."
he looks at you in disbelief, like he can't believe what he's hearing. "wait, what? actually? why didn't you say anything?"
"the same reason you didn't, arthur," you sigh bittersweetly.
after a moment of pause, he nods in understanding.
"well, I... fuck. then can we please stop being stupid now?" he asks, a hint of near-desperation in his tone as he moves over to you.
"yes please."
your breath hitches as arthur immediately pulls you towards him, sliding a palm around your waist and planting it firmly on the small of your back. his other hand runs up your arm slowly and cups your jaw, thumb grazing your bottom lip before finally closing the gap between you.
the tightness in your muscles dissipates almost instantly, your body melting into his as your fingers curl around the fabric of his sweater. his lips connect with yours urgently and a warmth fills your chest like nothing you'd ever experienced. you sigh into his mouth, dizzy with adrenaline and the years-overdue release of suppressed need for your best friend.
his hands explore you so reverently, like you're a piece of art, and a soft groan slips from between his teeth as you tug gently at his roots. his tongue is sweet with cheap rosé and pretty words as it melts against yours, arms steady as he pulls you into his lap, caressing everything he can reach and tangling his fingers in your hair.
you slide a hand down his chest and stomach, slipping under the hem of his shirt in a wordless plea for him to take it off. he sits up briefly to remove it and you do the same, aching to feel his warm skin on yours. you'd seen him shirtless countless times, but he'd never seen you that way — and certainly not without a bra, which you weren't wearing after a long day of work.
a gasp rips from arthur's throat as he looks down from peeling off his own shirt to find yours gone and your tits bare. his hands wrap around your waist as he admires you, breathing heavily. "fuck," he exhales, thumbs gently brushing the underside of your chest. "you're amazing."
he pulls you in and your lips crash together once more, desperately clawing each other, hands dancing around newly exposed skin. his mouth trails to your neck, hot open-mouthed kisses pulling soft moans from you, setting your nerves alight as he sucks at the sensitive spot under your ear. he carries on down to your clavicle, to the top of your heaving chest, worshipping every inch of you en route to your breasts and further, to spend the whole night in veneration of your body.
arthur takes his time, slowly unraveling you, hearts in his eyes as you fall apart under him, your love-bitten lips crying for him over and over as he leaves no part of you unkissed.
