stevie ིྀ

in his favourite sundress 𐙚

─── thoughtwriter | stevie | she / her ⋆˚₊ reid’s angel ꒰ঌ ໒꒱ arthur’s love ᥫ᭡ written by taylor jenkins reid, directed by sofia coppola . ݁ ₊ ⊹ ₊ ˚⊹♡ local love lover & romance reader 𐚁⊹₊ ⋆

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summary -> arthur hill sings a new song at one of his concerts and it’s clear who it’s about | reader x arthur hill

wc -> 1.7k

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you don’t even realize how tightly you’re holding your drink until liv nudges your arm, giggling as she leans in.

“he’s gonna kill it,” she says over the crowd noise. “you’re glowing like you’re the one about to perform.”

you laugh, shaking your head. “shut up. i’m just proud, that’s all.”

proud is an understatement. you’ve watched arthur go from playing covers in dusty open mics to selling out small venues like tonight’s show. you’ve been to nearly every one, from grimy basements to tiny backyard stages with broken amps. this one feels different. bigger. louder. real.

and yet, standing here among a few dozen friends and fans, some familiar faces, some strangers, your stomach is fluttering like you’re waiting for something else.

the lights dim.

you see him before anyone else — tall, calm, familiar. arthur. his guitar slung low across his chest, signature flannel sleeves rolled halfway up his forearms. he steps into the light like he doesn’t even notice it.

the crowd roars. you cheer loudest. he looks up. finding you just like he always does.

and smiles. your heart trips over itself.

“hey,” arthur says into the mic, voice low and warm. “thanks for coming out tonight. means everything to me.”

he plays the first few songs you know by heart — august rain, static, lately. you sing every word. he glances at you during every chorus, but you try not to read too much into it. arthur’s always been that way with you. quiet smiles, inside jokes, late-night playlists. intimate in a way that’s never crossed a line. and maybe you’ve loved him a little longer than you care to admit, but being his best friend has always been enough.

or you thought it was.

halfway through the set, arthur steps back from the mic. the stage lights shift to a softer amber. he adjusts the strap on his guitar and clears his throat.

“this next one’s… uh, new,” he says, eyes scanning the crowd. “haven’t played it before. it’s not on the album. i wasn’t sure i ever would, honestly.”

you glance at your friends — liv, issac, george — all of them curious now, leaning in. arthur’s gaze lands on you again. your breath catches.

“it’s… about someone,” he continues, voice a little rougher now. “and… they don’t know.”

a murmur goes through the crowd, the kind that happens when something suddenly feels real. you freeze. you don’t even blink.

then he plays the first chord.

it’s slow. gentle. different than his usual sound. barely a beat behind it, he starts to sing. you forget to breathe.

your friends go still. liv’s eyes flick toward you, then arthur. you don’t look at her. you can’t.

the crowd is dead quiet. arthur doesn’t look at the strings. doesn’t look at the crowd. he’s looking straight at you.

it hits like a wave. like a secret cracking open in front of everyone. your name isn’t in the lyrics, but it might as well be.

liv grips your arm. bach mutters, “holy shit,” under his breath. you don’t answer. you can’t even hear over the roar in your ears.

he keeps playing.

verse after verse, every memory tucked into rhyme. that time you stayed up until 3 a.m. making playlists. that road trip to nowhere. the time you almost kissed and didn’t, and both pretended not to notice.

he remembered it all. he turned it into this. by the time he hits the final chorus, his voice has gone softer. vulnerable.

the final chord rings out. no one claps. they’re too stunned.

and then, slowly, like people waking up from a dream, the crowd starts to cheer. not loud. not wild. just warm and knowing.

you don’t move. arthur takes off his guitar. says a quiet “thank you” into the mic. but his eyes haven’t left you. not once.

after the show. you’re the last one out the door.

he finds you by the loading ramp behind the venue, the city quiet in the way it only is after something huge. the air between you hums with everything unspoken.

he doesn’t say anything at first. you do.

“that song,” you say, voice thin.

“yeah.” arthur’s voice is soft. nervous. your heart pounds. “it’s about me.”

he nods once. “i thought maybe you wouldn’t—” he starts, but you cut him off.

“you could’ve told me.”

“i didn’t know how. i didn’t want to… lose you.” you look at him. really look. he’s not hiding anymore. neither are you.

“i thought i was imagining it,” you say, stepping closer. “all this time.”

“you weren’t.”

you’re so close now, you can feel the warmth radiating off him.

“you sang it in front of everyone.”

“i needed you to know. and i figured if i was gonna blow it… i might as well do it with some style.”

you laugh, almost crying. “god, you’re an idiot.”

he shrugs. “yeah, but i’m your idiot. if you want me to be.”

the silence stretches. he doesn’t push. just waits.

you take a breath. and then—you step into him, arms around his neck, forehead resting against his. he exhales like he’s been holding it in for years.

“you already were,” you whisper. “you just didn’t know.” he smiles, that crooked smile that’s always undone you.

and then, finally, finally— he kisses you. it’s soft and sure, like the first note of a favorite song. one you already know by heart. one that’s only just begun.

smut ღ | angst ✩ | fluff 𐙚

all of my spencer reid content in one space!

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𐙚 about you (arthur hill sings a new song at one of his concerts and it’s clear who it’s about)

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summary -> you’re a big animal lover and fall in love with everyone’s pets the second you meet them so arthur surprises you

wc -> 2k

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you never stood a chance when it came to dogs. one look at a wagging tail, a wet nose, or those soul-piercing puppy eyes and your heart was theirs. it wasn’t just that you liked animals —no, you felt something every time you met one. dogs especially. you connected with them instantly, like you’d known them in a past life and they were just waiting for you to come back.

it had become a running joke amongst your friends —your inability to resist any dog you met. arthur teased you constantly about it. and now, hanging out more frequently with the sidemen and their circle because of your growing presence on youtube, it was almost too easy to fall in love.

your first true test came at simon’s.

“okay, but i’m warning you now,” simon said, opening the door to his house with a raised eyebrow, “if you make that squealing noise again when you see her, i’mm revoking your dog privileges.”

you grinned, bouncing on your toes. “no promises.”

he stepped aside dramatically like he was revealing royalty.

and there she was. nala.

the golden retriever you’d stalked for months on Instagram, seen in countless vlogs, and now… now she was walking toward you in real life with that serene confidence only retrievers seem to have. like she knew she was the star of every room she walked into.

you didn’t even finish greeting simon properly. you dropped to your knees like your soul had left your body.

“NALA,” you gasped, arms already outstretched.

she blinked at you, tail giving a curious wag —then broke into a full run, barreling into you like you were long-lost best friends.

“she’s softer than i imagined,” you mumbled, face buried in her golden fur.

“she’s also going to leave you in five minutes for a piece of ham,” simon quipped.

“she’s perfect,” you said, ignoring him.

nala licked your cheek, and you genuinely thought you might cry. she was a walking serotonin boost, and you refused to believe that this was just a casual meeting. this was love. soulmate-level.

talia walked in just as you tried to take a selfie with nala’s head on your shoulder. she rolled her eyes with a smile. “another victim, i see.”

“don’t act like you weren’t the same,” simon said, nudging her.

“she’s magic,” you murmured. “i would die for her.”

simon groaned. “you met her two minutes ago.”

“doesn’t matter.”

by the time you left that night, nala had successfully claimed 47 new photos in your camera roll and at least three mentions in your Instagram story. you weren’t ashamed.

the next week, you were at tobi’s.

“she’s a bit shy,” he warned as you walked into his cozy living room. “takes a while to warm up.”

you immediately crouched down and kept your hands in your lap.

“hi, luna,” you said gently. “it’s okay. take your time.”

the black lab mix peeked out from behind the sofa, cautious eyes watching you like she was trying to solve a puzzle.

“she’s a rescue,” tobi added. “didn’t have the easiest start.”

you nodded softly, not taking your eyes off her, “she’s beautiful.”

a few moments passed —then luna padded forward, ears back but nose twitching with curiosity.

when she finally reached you and nudged your hand, you felt that same heart-thudding connection again. you let her sniff, then slowly scratched behind her ears. she leaned into it like a sleepy cat.

“she trusts you,” tobi said quietly. “that’s rare.”

you looked up at him with a watery smile. “she’s safe now. she knows.”

after that, it was game over. you visited luna at least three more times in the span of two weeks. you memorized where she liked to be scratched, which squeaky toy was her favorite, and how she did a little full-body shake after every nap.

by the time you were posting a tiktok dedicated to her, arthur texted:

do i need to start barking to get your attention or…?

ypu replied with a photo of luna snuggled against your lap and captioned it:

u couldn’t compete

his response came instantly:

rude. also accurate.

still, he never seemed bothered. not really. he always seemed… amused. a little quiet when you talked too long about someone else’s dog, sure. but his eyes always softened when he saw you like that —all light and affection and no filter.

then one thursday night, while you were half-asleep on facetime with him, he asked, “you free Saturday?”

you blinked. “uh, yeah, i think so. why?”

“got something planned. just be here at 3.”

you sat up a little. “why? what are we doing?”

he smirked. “you’ll see. don’t ask questions.”

you raised a suspicious brow. “if this is an elaborate intervention for how obsessed i am with dogs—”

“you’ll see,” he repeated, grinning before ending the call.

saturday rolled around. you stood outside his flat, suspicious and excited, wondering if maybe he’d borrowed a dog for the afternoon just to mess with you. or worse —adopted a raccoon. arthur would do something chaotic like that.

but nothing prepared you for what was behind that door.

arthur answered with the most casual expression ever, despite the fact that he was obviously dying to spill something.

“hey,” he said smoothly.

“hi,” you replied, narrowing your eyes. “you’re being weird.”

“i’m always weird,” he said, stepping aside.

you walked in —and froze.

you heard it first. a tiny, excited whimper. then a shuffle. then the sound of claws gently tapping against hardwood.

you turned toward the sound —and your heart dropped into your stomach.

in the center of the room was a small playpen. inside it sat a crate, some toys, a tiny food bowl… and the smallest puppy you had ever seen in your life.

golden-brown fur. big floppy ears. a speckled nose. and the moment she saw you, her tail wagged so hard her whole body wobbled.

“Arthur,” you whispered, stunned.

he tried —and failed —to keep a straight face. “so, you know how you keep falling in love with everyone else’s dog?”

you turned to him in disbelief, heart pounding. “you didn’t.”

“i did,” he said, stepping closer. “she’s yours.”

your hands flew to your mouth.

“she’s mine?”

“she needed a home,” he said, voice gentler now. “and you… you’ve got the biggest heart i know. i figured, if anyone could love her the way she deserves—”

you didn’t hear the rest. the puppy barked, a tiny, excited squeak, and you rushed forward to open the gate.

she launched herself at you, clumsy and wiggling and full of joy. you scooped her up, your eyes already full of tears.

“she’s so little,” you whispered, pressing your face against her.

“she’s a rescue, got a bit of retriever, a bit of shepherd —maybe some collie too. bit of everything. she’s smart. and loud. like someone i know.”

you laughed through your tears. “i can’t believe you did this.”

arthur rubbed the back of his neck, suddenly shy. “i just wanted you to have something that makes you happy. every time you see a dog, you light up. i thought… maybe this time, it could be yours.”

the puppy licked your cheek, tail wagging furiously as she squirmed in your arms.

you looked up at arthur, heart thudding. “god, i love you.”

the words slipped out before you could even think.

his eyes widened —and then softened.

“i love you too,” he said, stepping closer. “have for a while, actually.”

you stood there, puppy in your arms, love of your life in front of you, and for once, you didn’t have anything sarcastic to say. you were full. complete.

“what’s her name?” arthur asked softly.

you looked down at the puppy. her eyes blinked up at you, full of trust. like she already knew who she belonged to.

“cleo,” you said. “she looks like a cleo.”

arthur grinned. “cleo it is.”

you sat on the floor together, cleo snuggled in your lap, her tiny snores filling the room like the final note in a perfect song.

and somewhere between the crinkle of her toy, the warmth of arthur’s hand in yours, and the feeling of unconditional love wrapped in fur, you realized: this wasn’t just a surprise.

it was the beginning of your forever.

summary -> your first pub golf and you meet the one and only arthur tv who is infatuated from the moment he lays eyes on you

PART 1, 2, 3, 4

wc -> 1.1k

masterlist | main masterlist | requests

when the bach and arthur podcast asked you to come on as a guest, your gut reaction was panic.

not because you didn’t love them—you did. their brand of chaotic sibling-energy banter and oddly thoughtful life advice had become part of your weekly routine. but the idea of being on their turf, with arthur, talking about arthur? that was another level.

“they’re gonna grill me,” you groaned, flopping backwards onto arthur’s sofa like a shakespearean tragic hero.

arthur laughed from the kitchen, where he was pouring you both coffees. “they’re not gonna grill you. Tthey love you. they told me they were genuinely shocked i managed to ‘pull someone with a functioning brain.’”

you peeked over the couch. “comforting.”

“look,” he said, walking over and handing you a mug, “we don’t have to do couple content unless you want to. but honestly? i think it could be really fun. low-stakes. they’re just gonna ask you weird hypotheticals and try to embarrass me.”

you smirked into your mug. “now that sounds worth it.”

summary -> your first time staying over at boyfriend spencer’s apartment | reader x spencer

wc -> 1.2k

WARNINGS -> established relationship, spencer is a cutie patootie

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spencer’s apartment smells like old books and bergamot tea. not in a strong way - more like a feeling than a scent, the kind that clings to the air and settles gently into your clothes.

you’ve been here before, just not for very long. usually just to drop him off, steal a kiss at the doorway, exchange a quiet laugh in the hallway. but tonight feels different.

the door clicks shut behind you, muffling the sound of rain still falling outside.

your hair is damp, and your coat clings to your arms, the cold clinging harder. spencer is already shrugging off his own jacket, his fingers moving in quick, practiced motions.

and when he sees you struggling with yours, he’s there - reaching out with a soft, “here, let me.”

his hands are warm. he peels the coat from your shoulders like it’s made of something delicate, folding it over a hook near the door before offering you a towel from a small basket tucked by the shoe rack.

summary -> your first pub golf and you meet the one and only arthur tv who is infatuated from the moment he lays eyes on you | fem!reader x arthur tv

PART 1, 2, 3, 4

wc -> 1.1k

masterlist | main masterlist | requests

you hadn’t even fully shut the car door before your phone buzzed with a twitter notification

ARTHUR TV AND Y/N SPOTTED—CONFIRMED COUPLE?!

and under it, a blurry screenshot of you and arthur on willne’s balcony, mid-kiss, mid-softest-moment-of-your-life.

he looked great, of course. he always did. soft curls. the gentle lean-in. a hand on your waist.

you looked… like someone who had just fallen into something terrifyingly good.

arthur glanced over from the driver’s seat, seeing your expression, “they got us, didn’t they?”

you nodded, screen still glowing.

“we’re a tag now,” you said. “they’ve already named us.”

he groaned dramatically. “oh God, let me guess. ArthuYou? TV-Me? FlamingoPower?”

“TV-Me actually slaps.”

he gave you a mock glare and then smiled. one hand reached over, fingers wrapping around yours, thumb brushing a small, grounding circle on your palm. that had become a habit. his way of checking you were still with him.

“you okay with it?” he asked, voice lower now. sincere.

you were. mostly. but part of you… part of you was scared. not of him - never of him - but of what came next. of how the internet can take something warm and genuine and twist it until it no longer feels like yours.

still, you nodded. because it was true.

“i’d rather them know than pretend you’re not my favorite person.”

arthur’s smile widened into something breathtaking. and for a second, the twitter noise faded.

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my fics that are soon to be released!

-> all pieces on here will be released from within a month of when they were announced june 15th

smut ღ | angst ✩ | fluff 𐙚

GEORGE CLARKE

𐙚 the alchemy (george scores a goal at wembley)

ARTHUR TV

ღ pepsi cola (arthur hears you singing an interesting song)

𐙚 puppy love (animal lover reader) [POSTED]

ARTHUR HILL

𐙚 your song (arthur writes a song that is so clearly about his best friend)

WILLNE

𐙚 + ღ bed chem 1 - 5 (singer reader meets will and loves his accent)

SPENCER REID

𐙚 blanket season (you stay over at spencer’s for the first time) [POSTED]

this post is edited weekly to bi-weekly.