“This is ridiculous,” Arthur muttered, glancing over his shoulder like a kid sneaking candy into class.
“It’s not ridiculous,” you whispered back, tugging on his arm. “It’s called appreciating history.”
“It’s called getting kicked out of the Natural History Museum,” he said, but he followed you anyway, his free hand clutching the oversized, colorful dino hat you’d forced him to wear.
“Stop being dramatic,” you teased, pulling him closer to the towering skeleton of a T-Rex. “It’s not like we’re robbing a bank. Now, come on—pose for a picture.” The two of you had crossed under the velve ropes, trespassing into an exhibit that was not yet open. You dared him to snap a picture in the forbidden area and like two little kids, you had snuck around the security guard, trying to stifle your giggles.
Arthur sighed, adjusting the ridiculous hat on his head. “This is the least cool I’ve ever looked,” he whispered.
“You say that like it’s a high bar,” you shot back, raising your phone to snap a photo.
His mouth fell open. “Excuse me?!”
Before he could launch into a playful defense of his image, you snapped the picture. Arthur was mid-gasp, his hands flailing in mock outrage. It was perfect.
“Oh, this is going on Instagram,” you said with a smirk, waving your phone at him.
Arthur lunged for it, laughing. “Absolutely not. Give it here!”
“Never!” You darted around the display and back into the open exhibit, weaving between tourists as Arthur chased after you, his laughter echoing through the museum.
“Babe, I swear—if that picture sees the light of day…”
“You’ll what?” you called over your shoulder, grinning as you slipped into the nature exhibit.
Moments later, Arthur caught up, wrapping his arms around your waist and spinning you to face him. “I’ll make you wear the hat next time,” he said, grinning mischievously.
“Fine,” you said, still laughing, “but only if you promise to smile for one proper photo.”
Arthur groaned but relented, pulling you close for a quick selfie in front a butterfly display. As soon as you snapped it, he looked at the camera, frowning.
“You’re still posting the bad one, aren’t you?”
“Obviously,” you said, tucking your phone back into your pocket with a grin.
Arthur sighed, shaking his head with a small laugh. “Remind me why I bring you places?”
“Because you’d get bored without me,” you shot back, already dragging him toward the next exhibit.
what about a atv smut wears something revealing to a sdmn party they go to together and they end up leaving early bc arthur is too flustered and everyones picking on him bc theyre noticng? ty:)) love ur works x
Can't Keep His Eyes Of You
Atv x reader - smut and fluff
A/N: okay this request omggg ty anon cuz this was HOT (i hope yo like it and also i appreciate the love 💗😭😭)
You knew exactly what you were doing the moment you stepped out of the Uber.
The Sidemen party was already in full swing—music bumping, lights low, people filtering in and out of the house with drinks in hand. But you only had eyes for one thing: Arthur, standing awkwardly near the drinks table in his navy suit, curls perfect as always, phone in hand… until he spotted you.
His jaw dropped.
Arthur saw you first. He was standing by the front door, nervously sipping a beer, already a little flushed from the noise and attention. But the second he saw you walking up in that dress—the one with the low neckline, thigh-high slit, and silky material hugging you like a second skin—he looked like someone had just punched the air out of him.
“Are you—? You’re actually wearing that?” he asked as you reached him, his voice low and already panicked.
You smirked. “You don’t like it?”
“No, I do, you look like a Goddess, that’s the problem,” he muttered, dragging a hand through his hair. “You’re so stunning...”
You leaned in, kissed his cheek slowly. “Try to survive Arthur. We’ve got a whole party to get through.”
He groaned under his breath. “You’re evil.”
You’d only just arrived at the Sidemen party, and already you could feel Arthur’s hand tightening around yours like a silent what have you done to me.
The dress you wore was classy—technically. But it clung in all the right places, dipped just a little lower than usual, and shimmered under the lights in a way that made his jaw clench every time he looked at you.
"Y/n," he murmured close to your ear, voice low and tight. "You’re actually trying to kill me tonight."
You just smirked, pretending not to notice the way his eyes kept dropping to your chest, or the possessive glances he threw at anyone who so much as looked your way.
Inside, the vibe was classic Sidemen chaos—red cups everywhere, people shouting over each other, music just loud enough to blur the conversations. But as you and Arthur made your way through the living room, you were instantly swept into the arms of and Freya, Faith and Talia.
“Oh my god,” Talia said, grabbing your hands. “You look unreal. Who let you leave the house like this?”
Freya gasped. “This dress? On you? I’m obsessed. You’ve fully outdressed us all, and I’m not even mad.”
Faith gave you a once-over, lips parted in awe. “Arthur is so lucky. Like. Actually. I hope he knows.”
You laughed, cheeks warming at their praise. “You guys are too much!”
“No, seriously,” Freya said, looping her arm with yours. “You look hot as hell. Come take photos with us before you’re too drunk.”
“Man’s been in the party for 10 minutes and already looks like he’s on the verge of collapse,” JJ said, watching Arthur stare helplessly at you across the room.
Tobi sipped his drink. “He’s got that look. Like he’s doing maths in his head just trying to breathe normally.”
“Look at him gripping his cup like it’s an anchor,” Harry added. “Bro’s white-knuckling for dear life.”
Arthur didn’t even try to defend himself. He just looked down at his drink, red creeping up his neck. “I look so whipped.”
Simon raised an eyebrow. “You’re twitching every time someone walks past her. You’re one deep breath away from dragging her out of here.”
“Not wrong,” Arthur muttered. “You lot keep talking and I will.”
Across the room, you caught his eye and gave him a sweet, innocent smile.
He blinked slowly. Then downed the rest of his drink in one go.
“Yo, Arthur’s malfunctioning,” Ethan laughed, nudging him as they all gathered near the bar. “He can’t even make eye contact.”
“Man’s down bad, you seeing this?” JJ grinned.
Ten minutes later, you felt a hand at your waist and heard Arthur’s voice—low, breathless, and so over it.
“We’re leaving.”
You turned around, slightly confused. “What, already?”
He gave you a look that made your stomach flip. “If I don’t have you alone in the next ten minutes, I’m going to lose my mind.”
You barely had time to wave at the group before Arthur tugged you through the crowd and out the door. The moment you were alone, he caught you in a searing kiss.
You leaned into him, whispering teasingly, “You okay?”
“No,” he said. “But I will be.”
The Uber door clicked shut behind you, and Arthur didn’t waste a second.
His hand was already on your thigh, fingers sliding beneath the slit of your dress like he’d been waiting hours to do it.
“I actually can’t believe you wore that,” he muttered, voice low and wrecked, eyes locked on your lips. “You have no idea what you did to me tonight.”
“Oh, I think I do,” you teased, shifting so his hand could inch higher. “You were staring like you’d forgotten how to speak.”
He let out a quiet, frustrated laugh. “I did. You broke me.”
You leaned into him, lips brushing his ear. “You gonna do something about it?”
That did it.
He turned and kissed you hard, one hand gripping your waist, the other slipping further up under your dress until his fingers brushed your inner thigh. You gasped into his mouth, hands fisting in the front of his shirt as he deepened the kiss, tongue teasing yours.
“Don’t make a sound,” he whispered darkly, barely pulling back. “Not here.”
Arthur’s fingers teased you over your panties, feeling just how ready you were for him. His breath caught.
“Fuck me, you're soaked.”
You whined softly, rolling your hips against his hand, and he pulled back suddenly—eyes dark, face flushed, chest rising and falling like he’d just run a marathon.
“I’m going to ruin you when we get back.”
By the time you got back to his place, Arthur barely let the door click shut before he had you pressed against it, lips crashing onto yours with a hunger that had been building all evening.
“You really love winding me up, don’t you?” he murmured against your mouth, his hands roaming your waist like he couldn’t decide if he wanted to hold you or tear the dress right off.
“Maybe I do,” you breathed, tilting your head with that cheeky little smirk he loved and hated.
“Wearing that, knowing I was looking at you…” His hands slid down to your thighs, lifting you up so your legs wrapped around his waist, “You’ve got no idea how close I was to dragging you into the bathroom at the party.”
You gasped at the sudden lift, arms wrapping around his neck. “You wouldn’t have.”
“Wanna bet?”
He carried you to the bedroom, dropping you onto the mattress with a thud softened by laughter and heat. Standing above you, he looked down, cheeks flushed and curls a little messy. He tugged his shirt over his head with a huff, tossing it aside.
Arthur crawled over you, lips trailing down your jaw, your neck, your collarbone, taking his sweet, torturous time. His hands were already sliding the dress off your body like it offended him—like it had no right clinging to his girl like that.
Arthur had you splayed out on the bed, the silky fabric of your dress discarded on the floor like it never stood a chance. His eyes dragged over every inch of you, pupils blown wide, fingers brushing over your skin like he couldn’t believe you were real.
“You looked so fucking good tonight,” he whispered, leaning down to kiss the space just above your breast. “You knew exactly what you were doing.”
You grinned, breath hitching when his hand trailed between your thighs. “Thought you liked when I drove you mad.”
“Oh, I do,” he murmured, sliding two fingers up your slit through your panties, watching you shiver. “Just means I get to take my time now.”
Your panties were gone in seconds. His mouth followed right after, tongue teasing, slow and languid, tasting you like he was starved. His hands gripped your thighs, keeping you wide open while his tongue circled your clit in gentle, sinful flicks that made your back arch.
“F-fuck, Arthur—” you moaned, fingers twisting in his curls.
He groaned into you, the sound sending vibrations straight through your core. “Love when you say my name like that.”
He didn’t stop until your legs were trembling, thighs squeezing around his head as your orgasm hit you hard and fast. He didn’t stop then either—kept going through your whimpers until you were panting and breathless, begging for more.
“You okay?” he asked softly, crawling back up your body, pressing a gentle kiss to your cheek.
“Need you,” you whispered, voice wrecked. “Now.”
Arthur didn’t need to be told twice.
His boxers hit the floor and he was already lining himself up, dragging the thick head of his cock through your slick folds. He watched your face the whole time as he slowly pushed in, groaning at the way you stretched around him.
“Fuck, baby… you feel so good,” he breathed, forehead resting against yours.
He started slow—long, deep thrusts that had you gasping into his mouth, clinging to him like he was the only thing tethering you to reality. His hands were everywhere—your waist, your face, your thighs—like he couldn’t get close enough.
“You’re mine,” he whispered, hips snapping a little harder. “All fucking mine.”
Your nails dug into his back, desperate and aching as the pressure built again. “Don’t stop—don’t you dare stop—”
“I won’t, I’ve got you,” he moaned, kissing you deeply as he fucked you right through your second climax. The way you clenched around him pulled a broken groan from his chest.
“Where—fuck—where do you want me to—”
“Inside,” you whispered, “please.”
He came with a soft, drawn-out moan, burying himself deep and trembling against your body, his name falling from your lips like a prayer.
The room was silent except for your heavy breathing, your fingers playing with the curls at the nape of his neck as he collapsed on top of you, still inside.
“You’re dangerous,” he mumbled, kissing your shoulder. “I swear to god.”
You giggled, completely blissed out. “You’re the one who dragged me home.”
“Yeah. Best decision I’ve ever made.”
After everything, the room was warm with silence. Arthur was still tangled with you, your legs draped over his hips, your fingers lazily stroking patterns across his back.
“You okay?” he whispered, brushing damp hair away from your face. His voice was hoarse, but soft—almost reverent.
You nodded, eyes still half-lidded. “Never better.”
He kissed your forehead, then your cheek, then down the side of your jaw. “Good. You were so perfect for me.”
His words made your stomach flip all over again, and your body instinctively squeezed around him even though he was already soft inside you.
Arthur groaned quietly. “Don’t do that. You’re gonna get me hard again.”
You just smirked, pulling him tighter. “So do something about it.”
He gave you a warning look—equal parts flustered and fond—then sighed dramatically. “You’re evil.”
“You love it.”
“I do,” he muttered, smiling into your neck. “I really do.”
Eventually, he rolled off you, only to tug you against him and whisper, “Come on, let’s get you cleaned up. You’re all messy and smug.”
“Your fault.”
“And proud of it.”
He led you into the bathroom, starting the shower while you leaned against the counter, watching him. Arthur glanced back and caught your gaze trailing down his body.
“Don’t look at me like that. I’m trying to be wholesome.”
“You’re naked and hot and very much not wholesome.”
He shook his head with a little laugh but reached out anyway, pulling you into the warm spray with him.
The water hit your skin and instantly soothed the soreness building in your thighs. Arthur was behind you, hands massaging your waist, lips ghosting over the back of your neck.
“Still smug?” he asked, voice low again.
You didn’t get to answer—his hand had already slid between your thighs, finding you sensitive and still dripping. You gasped as he pressed two fingers into you from behind, his other arm wrapping around your waist.
“Thought I’d remind you,” he whispered, breath hot against your shoulder, “exactly who made you this way.”
You whimpered, bracing against the wall as he pumped his fingers slowly, drawing out those same soft moans he’d fallen in love with.
“Can you take me again, sweetheart?” he asked gently. “Or too sensitive?”
You pushed your hips back into him with a needy sound. “Want it. Please.”
He groaned and lined himself up, sliding in again with a deep, shaky breath. You were soaked from the water and already open for him, the stretch just right this time—slower, more intimate, but just as desperate.
Arthur fucked you like he was savoring you—gripping your hips, pressing kisses to your shoulder blade, whispering praises in your ear.
“So good… you feel so good around me.”
“Made for me, aren’t you?”
“Fuck, I love you—”
The sound of skin against skin and water cascading over your bodies filled the air as you both spiraled toward release again. Your orgasm hit harder this time, more intense from the buildup, and Arthur followed moments later with a soft, broken moan of your name.
Afterward, he wrapped you in a towel and held you close like you were something fragile.
“You’re everything, you know that?” he mumbled into your wet hair. “Everything.”
You buried your face in his chest, smiling. “I know. And so are you.”
A/N: i was gonna have a fluffy ending but i kind of made it smutty 😭😭 also requests are open and lmk if you wanna be in the taglist pookies!!
Things ArthurTV would do in a relationship <3 (Part 2)
Meticulously plans themed movie nights where you both dress up as characters and invite all your friends, but his costume is always hilariously underwhelming.
Writes you cheesy, handwritten notes and hides them in random places like your bag, shoes, or cereal box.
Gets overly invested in your favorite TV show, then bombards you with theories and plot predictions like he’s part of the writers’ room.
Invents a secret handshake that gets more ridiculous every time you do it, but insists it’s “our thing.”
Runs a ‘science experiment’ to find the best brands of tea, involving blind taste tests and spreadsheets.
Accidentally calls your parents ‘mate’ when he meets them and cringes about it for weeks afterward.
Creates a “Relationship Museum” folder on his phone filled with candid pictures of you, funny screenshots of your conversations, and inside jokes.
Acts like a tourist in your own city, insisting you both go to the most cliché spots and take cheesy photos together.
Freaks out when you’re sick, bringing you soup, tissues, and about twelve unnecessary over-the-counter remedies, taking your temperature each hour, googling how far away the nearest hospital is.
Does a dramatic reading of your text arguments (after you’ve made up) in silly voices to make you laugh.
Becomes unreasonably attached to a stuffed animal you win at a carnival, naming it and treating it like part of the family.
Casually drops ‘fun facts’ into everyday conversations, like, “Did you know that wombat poop is cube-shaped due to their unique digestive system?”—then gets defensive when you tell him you’re trying to eat. .
Insists on celebrating obscure holidays like National Pizza Day or World UFO Day with themed activities and matching outfits.
Attempts to learn a new hobby with you, but ends up making a mess (e.g., flour everywhere during a bread-making attempt).
Gets competitive during board games, accusing you of cheating in the most ridiculous ways, like “You rolled the dice too confidently.”
Leaves you voice notes of him narrating his day in the style of a nature documentary, with commentary like, “Here we see Arthur in his natural habitat: the kitchen, scavenging for snacks.”
Takes you stargazing, only to completely forget the picnic blanket but makes up for it by knowing the scientific names for constellations and the mythology behind them.
I’d been carrying the weight of it for days, the words lodged in my throat like a splinter I couldn’t dislodge. How do I tell him? Arthur hadn’t done anything wrong—of course, he hadn’t. That was just who he was. Warm. Understanding. Kind. But the thought of how he might look at me differently once I said it… it made my stomach twist every time I tried to work up the courage.
What if he thought it was a big deal? What if he overthought it? Or worse, what if he didn’t understand?
I sighed, staring at my phone on the kitchen counter. Arthur had texted earlier to say he was picking up some pastries from that little bakery I loved. It was such a sweet gesture, and yet my mind couldn’t stop spiraling. The truth was, most of my dating experience had been with women. Navigating this new relationship with Arthur felt like learning a language I hadn’t spoken in years. I was out of practice, unsure of myself in ways I hadn’t been in a long time.
The sound of the front door clicking open jolted me out of my thoughts. “Hey, love,” Arthur called, his voice soft but bright as always. “I’ve brought reinforcements. Croissants and… whatever these cinnamon things are. The woman at the counter swore they’d change my life.”
I forced a smile as he walked into the kitchen, his hands full of a crinkly paper bag and that ever-present calm energy. He looked at me, his brow furrowing slightly.
“You’ve gone quiet again,” he said, setting the bag down. “What’s on your mind?”
My stomach flipped. I hated how easily he could read me, how his gentle curiosity always made me feel like I couldn’t hide. Maybe that was why this was so hard. Arthur had this way of making me feel seen, but what if I wasn’t ready for him to see all of me?
I fidgeted with the hem of my sweater, the words bubbling up before I could stop them. “I’ve been wanting to tell you something.”
Arthur leaned against the counter, crossing his arms as he watched me. “Okay. I’m listening.”
I stared down at the countertop, tracing the lines of the wood grain with my eyes. “I… I’m bisexual,” I said, my voice barely above a whisper. “Most of my dating experience has been with women, and… it’s been a long time since I’ve been in a relationship with a guy. I’m… I guess I’m just figuring out how to navigate this. With you.”
The silence that followed was deafening. I braced myself, my heart pounding, as I dared to glance up at him. Arthur’s expression was unreadable for a moment before it softened into something warm and steady.
“Okay,” he said simply, nodding once. “Thank you for telling me.”
My brows knit together. “That’s it? Just… okay?”
“Yeah. Okay.” He smiled, stepping closer. “It doesn’t change how I feel about you. If anything, I’m glad you trusted me enough to tell me. And… if you’re figuring things out, that’s okay, too. I’m not going anywhere.”
My chest ached with the weight of relief, the knot I’d carried for days finally loosening. “You’re really okay with this?”
“More than okay,” he said, reaching out to tuck a stray strand of hair behind my ear. “You don’t have to have everything figured out right now. We’ll figure it out together, yeah?”
I nodded, a small smile breaking through despite myself. “Yeah.”
“Good,” Arthur said, his tone lightening as he gestured to the bag of pastries. “Now, let’s see if these cinnamon things really are life-changing.”
I laughed, the tension finally melting away. And for the first time in days, I felt like I could breathe.
Before I could reach for the pastries, Arthur stepped closer, wrapping his arms around me in a firm, comforting hug. I sank into him, my cheek pressed against his chest, the steady beat of his heart grounding me.
“I love you,” he murmured softly, his voice a low rumble. “Just as you are.”
My throat tightened, but this time it wasn’t with fear. “I love you, too,” I whispered, the words slipping out as naturally as breathing.
And in his arms, I felt safe, certain, and wholly seen.
