Synopsis: Chronicles of your online presence as being the girlfriend of ChrisMD
Contains: sm!au
⤑ Face Claim: Jennie Kim
Warnings: drunk Chris + Arthur TV, use of y/n, cringy as always
[m.list]
Inspiration: @arthurhillmastermind
Tweeting mid-filming session while sitting outside a pub, a full pint in front of me I was not thrilled to start on.
“You're always on your phone.”
Chris started, a camera pointed at us as the other went off for a moment of bathroom breaks.
“Something needs to entertain me.”
Replying sarcastically as I power off my phone and place it face down on the table.
“Am I not enough?”
Chris bleated dramatically, hands smacking against the table.
Instead of replying, I decided to deadpan to the camera. A funny moment content wise that would add to this rather dull conversation.
Soon enough the others return and the jokes and mean comments disguised as jokes start firing rapid fire once again.
-----
“I don't get what's going on”
I inquired with a slurred vocabulary, Arthur TV and I walking closely behind the others. Both seemingly the lightweights of the group. We were now about half way done with the video and us two were already wanting to tap out.
“If you got a pound for every time you didn’t know what was going on, you would be like , ‘why am I getting all these pounds!’ ”
Cracking up at his own joke while the others pretended to find it completely unfunny, Arthur walked lopsided into a street sign pole.
The camera caught every moment of the drunk antics, the next pub’s lights now in eyeview as everyone laughed at Arthur's physical display of anguish.
At this distraction, an arm sneaks up behind me. Wrapping itself around my waist while pulling my close.
“Chris, stop!”
I squirmed in embarrassment as we waddled a bit behind the others the others, Chris’s chin on my shoulder.
“Love me!”
He whined drunkenly as I broke from his grasp, giving a dramatic act for the camera that was too busy focused on George and Harry.
At the last pub of the night, I was completely in a different realm. Often staring into the distance at nothingness before being forced to take a shot after losing a challenge I wasn't even paying attention to.
-----
Liked by chrismd10, hourly/n and 53,409 others
youruser waiting for my invoice chrismd10
chrismd10 We're literally dating?
youruser I still charge for my services
user1 y/n in the next pub golf?!?!?
user2 we need more mrs md content on the channel!!
user3 so this is why we got that tweet-
georgeclarkeey what a handsome man. Chris is there too
------
A/N: first try at a social media au (・_・;) , bear with me
Synopsis: an artist and musician who finds comfort in a stranger's silence.
fem! Reader x James Marriott
Word Count: 890~
Contains: Fluff
Warnings: none really
[m.list]
The soft settle glow of the sun painted a perfect picturesque scene as it fluttered through the coffee shop windows.
The golden light casting perfectly across the wooden floors of the shop. The shop was less crowded than usual at this hour, giving the chance to actually acquire a seat and get some work done.
On his daily coffee run, James took his time walking down the path to his favorite coffee shop. The sky had just the perfect amount of clouds that painted the perfect backdrop without it being too chilly.
A soft hum of amusement evaporated against James’ vocal cords at the sight of a not so clustered shop at this hour.
With his laptop, and small pocket book, James was now grateful he had packed the two mediums; maybe he could find some inspiration.
And maybe that inspiration was perched inside a corner also searching for the same.
Ordering his usual, fingers tapping against the counter top as he waits for his drink, James takes a look around.
Majority of the shop's tiny booths were filled, with a few empty scattered around James would have to settle with. Unless.
Lounging beside the window, the sun perfectly highlighting her like she was a beacon he was always meant to find.
Mindlessly sketching inside a leather bound notebook, hair pulled back into a loose ponytail with a few strands hanging out and a sweater the color of green leafs in springs.
With his iced coffee in hand, James makes his way over to the enticing women in the far corner.
“Excuse me... I was wondering if I could sit here? Just for a few minutes.” James pips up, nerves igniting within him.
“Go ahead” was just a soft mutter from between her lips, nothing more and nothing less. Not even a glance at him.
The chair screeching against the floor it's dragged upon, James sat directly across from her. Eyes not so secretly appearing down onto the pages of abstract lines and void of color. Besides her was a half drinking plastic cup of matcha and a barely touched espresso glass that had a perfect peachy lipstick stain.
Pulling out his own notebook and laptop, James took this opportunity to revise some lyrics that had been racking his brain.
Minutes tick by so quickly, that half an hour had gone and both barely moved a muscle or breathed a word. The music of a pencil rough against parchment led James' eyes to the women's notebook once again.
The lines that had seemed to lead nowhere was now a perfect contracted top-half of a person. With an oddly familiar pair of glasses and disheveled hair, and the same tuff on the collar of the jacket as James wore.
She must have felt James staring, as her eyes worked their way up to his as they gazed down at her work.
Her hand spreads out across the paper, each digit attempting to hide what was already seen.
“I'm James”
His smile held a charismatic charm he was unaware he had.
“Y/N”
She answered with a simple nod, her voice the same soft pitch as before.
James' smile never flatters as he presses save on his document and focuses back onto her.
“You come here often?”
“Some mornings after a run,” Chewing her bottom lip as her eyes don't know where to land. “And you?”
“Most days, it's a part of my little morning routine.”
Gesturing towards the scene of the notebook and laptop laid before him with her chin, “What are you working on?”
“A song”
“You're a musician?”
“Mhm.”
Seeming to take it in with a nod, “Can I hear something of yours?”
Trying to play off the heat that rises onto his cheeks, pulling out some earbuds before offering one to her.
“Here uh…”
Palms clammy as he pulls up an audio file that starts playing a bit too loud. Causing both to wince as James hurried to lower the volume.
“Sorry sorry!”
Awkwardly chuckling while he intensely observed her. Each small head movement and quite hum a criticism he mentally wrote down.
“You're really good”
“Really?” Stumbling over his syllables as he quickly takes back the earbuds she was gesturing over.
A nod as she folds over a ribbon onto her sketch and closes its cover, “Do you release it on anything?”
“Just the normal platforms” he coughed, fingers tracing the lines and indents of his cup’s lid.
Looking out the window, the sun intensified the shine of her eyes as she watched the traffic go by.
“Would you like to do this again?” With a tilt of her head as she glanced over James’ face.
With a gulp of nerves and a flutter in his chest, “Y-yeah, love to.”
Tearing off a piece of napkin her now empty espresso sat upon, scribbling down an array of numbers.
“Call me” she smiled, her tone an octave louder with a dose of confidence.
Sliding the corner of paper to the man across from her, before settling her belongings into a small drawstring bag.
“See you.” James forced out as she moved out of her seat.
Walking by, hand delicately ghosting against his shoulder as she walked past towards the door. Nothing more than a fantom of a touch, one that closely mimics the growing feeling within his chest.
Synopsis: Former lovers rekindle on a lonely Christmas Eve
Word Count: 1.0k~
Contains: angst + fluff at the end if you squint
Warnings: Usage of the term "Y/N", drunk Chris, kinda cringey bear with me
[m.list]
Chris and I had broken up after being together for close to an online documented decade. Why? It seemed neither of us actually knew.
After the breakup, I had decided to find a place close to your old one in central London. As I was just as much in the content creating space as my past lover.
The summer has been hectic, having to find my own footing, pace, and peace alone. Finding peace within oneself was proving more difficult than any self-help book led on.
Tonight was the eve before Christmas, marking it off my calendar with a sigh. The snow falling upon the pavement outside marking it too late to go back home now. I wanted to avoid the bombarding questions I was sure to be met with anyways.
Mixing the last bit of the cookie mixture that would only serve one, a bottle of red wine close by. Its contents dip hidden below its wrapped label.
A sigh slipped past between my lips as I pulled my phone out of my apron pocket. Snapping a picture of the messy scene laid out in front of me for my Instagram. Putting the background music to the first Christmas song that popped up without much care before uploading it to my story. The array of notifications laid out neatly on the top of my phone piqued my interest. With comments from multiple media apps as well as a plethora of text messages from hours ago. One specifically catching my eye.
Not putting any meaning to the message before typing a simple corresponding message in return, no need for animosity.
Going back to my batter mix, setting the few doughy blobs into a tray and into the oven before leaning back and admiring the sight of my goods baking before the reverb of a knock on the front caught my attention with a slight jump in surprise.
Upon opening the door, I'm met with a flushed face, glassy eyed Christopher. With his hair disheveled and arm resting against the door frame as he panted erratically.
“Chris?”
I asked in confusion, head tilted while stepping aside just enough that if he wanted he could come in, he could.
“Please don't push me away.”
He practically pleaded, his free hand in front of him moving with his words.
“Are you ok?”
“I don't know."
Gesturing him with a simple hand gesture, “Please come in, you reek of alcohol.”
Stepping into my flat for the first time, being aware enough to close the door behind himself. Feet planted at the entrance as he took in the sight of the place decorated in a way that he knew was distinctly me.
Meanwhile I was back in the kitchen, fetching a glass of water I knew the man needed.
Hand on his back as I lead his swaying feet to the couch, forcing the glass into his hand.
“What brought you here?”
I questioned softly as I took a seat beside him.
“I actually don't know, I was supposed to be heading home with George."
“Should I call you a car?”
“No no, I'm good,” he spat out behind his water.
I nod, getting up to check on my cookies. If he didn't know why he was here, then he should be on his way soon.
“Do you have any plans?”
He speaks up as I walk away.
“For tomorrow?”
Chris hummed in approval.
“Not much, probably just an evening in.”
“Me neither, we should get breakfast.”
Giving a quiet laugh at his rushed words as I pulled the cookies out of the oven.
“Would that be appropriate?”
With a shrug and a smug smirk, I offered him more water. Which he gladly accepted.
“I like your place.”
“Thank you.”
“This couch used to be ours,”
He commented as he rubbed the cushion, a quick flicking grimace marked my features as I put my oven mitt back onto its pin.
“A lot used to be ours.”
Assuming the alcohol was now speaking for him rather than his brain, I continued my work around the kitchen.
“I had a lot of plans,”
He continued, still mindlessly messing with the fabric of the couch.
“I had a ring. Have. I have a ring. It was supposed to be your Christmas present.”
Eyes glancing at him from afar in intrigue and a bit of forced disinterest as I sip at my wine.
“i still carry it around with me, as if there would still be an opportunity for me to propose”
The ruffle of him reaching into his pocket and the click of the ring box opening was enough for my eyes to widen as I continued hiding in the kitchen as he continued his drunken rant.
“I don't even remember why we broke up, but I know it was my fault. Something about growing as a people. I was so ready to marry you.”
The sight of him gazing down into the velvet ring box like a sad puppy was enough to make me sigh and the darkness crawl back into my chest.
“Chris, you're gonna regret this in the morning, I'll call you a car.”
Tugging my phone back out of my pocket, I was quickly met with slurred protests.
“No please wait, a few more minutes.”
“Chris-”
“Please Y/N.”
Hands on my shoulders as I surrender to his defense. Shoulder sagging down with my head as it lays on the edge of his shoulder.
“You aggravate me.”
A chuckle that just screams he's smiling escapes his lips
“I know.”
“You should really go.”
Picking my head up to look up at him, his blue eyes meeting mine.
“Just a few more minutes, please.”
But this time instead of a plea, it was a smile and arms sneaking around my own. It wasn't much of a hug, but it still left his pinky rubbing the side of my palm.
“Just a few more.”
I nodded, trying to fight back a smile that matched his dorky grin.
Those few minutes turned into hours, and those hours turned into a night.
A night spent reminiscing under fairy lights and the background sounds of cliché Hallmark movies.
The snow didn't keep either of us in, but that would be the excuse used the next day when either of us were questioned the next day.
That Christmas Eve wasn’t spent with a lover, but the underlying feelings were more than a friend.
A/N:
This is my first bit of writing on here, so I hope you enjoyed it if you made it all the way down here!
Synopsis: Two childhood friends cross the bridge they never thought they would while being snowed in.
Word Count: 1.0k~
Contains: Fluff
Warnings: None really!
[m.list]
Arthur huffed, arms crossed as he stared out of the cabin window. The snow is piling up more and more by the hour.
“So, who's idea was it to travel on the one weekend out of the whole year it would storm like this?”
“It's Chris’s video.”
Turning to face me, his arms beautifully sculpted as they sat perfectly crossed before his body. Looking down at me perched on the edge of the bed cluelessly.
I replied with a bored sigh, instantly regretting not packing a book or some other form of entertainment other than my phone and laptop.
I added, hoping to give him motive to do anything rather than focus on how everything isn't going to plan.
“You should change,”
“I changed back into my pajamas once we knew we weren't getting back out.”
Looking up at him as he looked down at me, arms falling to his sides as he nodded.
Walking behind me to his suitcase, grabbing a pair of sweatpants and a hoodie before heading into the small bathroom connected to the bedroom.
When he returned, I was lounging against the headboard. Remote in hand as I typed in my Netflix password.
Crawling into the empty spot beside me, Arthur now dressed in more comfortable attire sighed. Taking out his phone and typing out a message I could only assume was to the others we had traveled here with.
“It's going to be ok, Arthur. You're stressing over a video that's not even yours.”
Trying to reassure him, gently grabbing his hand and molding it around the remote.
Laying on his side facing me, arm beneath supporting him while the other was stretched out surfing through the TV.
Clicking on something and letting it play. Placing the remote right beside his faced down phone. Laying his head on his arm below him, while his free hand was now placed on my knees and toying with the furry fabric of my cartoon pajama bottoms.
He whispered, almost to himself more than to me.
Arthur's eyes followed each stroke of his fingers, his mind somewhere miles away.
“How long have we known each other?”
My answer matched his quietness, fingers combing through his hair in the way I knew cooled down his senses.
“Like sixteen years”
With eyes now meeting mine while he smirks, his fingers now tugging at the furry fabric.
“Remember when we dated?”
I spoke between small falls of laughter.
“For like a week when we were like fifteen!”
“We never technically broke up.”
Playfully deadpanning at him, “So what, we're still dating?”
“Technically.”
“Wow, we're going fourteen strong?”
Continuing with the joke for a while longer before both being sucked into the film playing.
Before long, our eyes started to droop as the snowy weather outside dimmed the light from outside.
Arthur's head found its way into my lap as my fingers stayed tangled into his brown locs.
Only an hour or two had passed when Arthur arose first. Rubbing his eyes drowsily while picking his body up from mine.
The room was dim and the TV had long stopped playing. With the sight of me slumped against the headboard rather than properly laying down made Arthur wince.
Wrapping a gentle arm around my waist with the other behind my head, softly dragging me down to lay comfortably against the pillows.
A sigh living his lips before laying back down beside me, using the last of the natural light peaking through to trace my features with his eyes.
From the curve on my closed eyes to the slope of my nose and the pout of the lips he yearned to touch with his own.
Arthur was convinced Chris had done it on purpose with rooming us together. He was always doing something.
The three of us had known each other far longer than our online careers showed, it was honestly a blessing we all were able to work together in a field none of us had expected.
And when her eyes fluttered open and Arthur's face flushed in a way he knew he'd been caught the second a small giggle left my lips.
And now, Arthur was sharing a bed with the girl he yearned for since his early teenage years for work purposes.
“Why were you just staring at me?”
I softly chuckled, my voice rough with just waking and no louder than a whisper.
“Just thinking”
“Of?”
Arthur wasn't quite sure what possessed him to answer in the way he did next, embarrassment creeping into his neck quickly after; the only answer he got was another soft giggle.
That small dribble of laughter made Arthur unsure if I was laughing at him or with him.
“You.”
“What about me?”
I was unsure when it happened, but the air around us turned intimate. Alone in this tiny room where all the outside forces couldn't and wouldn't affect us. My eyes drifted to his lips, his nose, and beautifully brown eyes.
Hand crawling along the space between his like a spider, pointer finger gently rubbing loose each of his tense knuckles.
With no answer and hand gripping at the sheets as to hold himself back, eyes searching mine for reassurance and a bit of something else.
“Show me?”
Encouraging with a nod, his face growing closer to mine.
Arthur's nose tickled mine, his forehead against mine as if this was his way of pouring every declaration of adoration that racked his brain into mine.
And mere seconds later the ghost of his breath mingled with mine.
His lips were soft and tasted of something sweet. The longer it went on, the more we molded and melted together.
One hand tracing my jaw while the other was laced with my own fingers.
This kiss wasn't lustful, or demanding, or persuasive for more. It was soft, passionate, sweet; it was lovely, it was love, full of it. The kind you read in books and wish upon a star for.
Pulling away was only to take in a breath before going back in.
And when we did separate, with swollen lips and flushed faces, it was to admire the state of the other.
His hands didn't grope at my body, and my hand was only laid upon his neck to bring him closer.
Arthur proclaimed, fingers squeezing mine in promise and conviction.
“I love you,”
“And I don't want to move slow, or at any set pace. Just give me a chance.”
He continued, eyes boring into mine that made my stomach flutter but also twist.
Simply responding with a nod and moving my face to rest against his once again, all the previous tension and stress leaving our bodies as we just lounged against each other.
Limbs tangled in a way to get closer, and whispers that would stay hidden in the dark and travel across light.
But, for now. Each flake with an exotic pattern that danced in the air was the correspondent for each drop of adoration that flooded our hearts.
The snow outside falls slowly around, and the next day would be shoveled by the staff of the building.
You gave me too much freedom with this anon....MWAHAHAHA
Falling for Fiction
Synopsis: two book lovers get their own dose of their favorite type of fiction.
masc! Reader x James Marriott
Word Count: 773
Contains: fluff
Warnings: my dream meet-cute.
[m.list]
The weather held a chill that nipped at your nose and sung in your ears. The slight breeze whistling through your hair.
It was the brightest time of day, and you took advantage of the additional add of warmth. Walking to the bookstore right not too far from your flat.
It wasn't a big franchised store. A single mom-and-pop pop-up that has been around longer than you'd even lived in the area.
The store wasn't big in capacity either. The isle only spread enough for one person at a time to comfortably gaze at the beautiful array of stories offered.
You had called earlier, the old lady at the front knowing you by name. Your favorite romance author had just released a new addition to your favorite series, and you just needed to get your hands on it. Even though you would devour its contents by dinner time tonight.
Although, it didn't seem you were the only one. Reaching up, index finger tilting the book’s spine back. A warm, soft hand develops your own. Eyes widening as you look up to another man towering over you; the same flustered look as yours dawning on his features.
Black wired glasses perched on his nose, chocolate hair waved around his forehead and a beautiful flushed smile that enhanced his features with a beautiful light.
A sly smile caresses your lips, your finger sliding down the book's spine as you lean against the bookcase with crossed arms.
“Trying to have your own little meet-cute?”
You tease the gorgeous man, who looks down at his feet as his arms fall to his sides.
“I thought you were reaching for the book besides it.”
“Volume four? I already read it six months ago when it came out.”
You flaunt, head leaning against the hardcover books as the pink cover you both desire looms over you both.
Head lifting as he gazes over your form, a more shy smile lifting the edges of his mouth.
“You're a fan of the series?"
“Obviously, so I clearly deserve-”
The man cuts you off, lips lifting into a teasing grin.
“I met her before.”
“What!”
You exulted, a laugh bubbling at your throat.
“Yeah,” he proudly smiled. “So I obviously deserve it more.”
“What's your name anyways?”
You inquired, rolling your shoulders as you more fully against the shelf.
“James.”
“Y/N.”
You followed, analyzing more about the man in front of you.
James wore a tan overcoat, white turtleneck peeking out along with some forest green trousers. It was like he was a walking Pinterest board of the perfect guy in a bookshop like this one.
“The coffee here's great, you know.”
You hint, looking back up at him. The book above you momentarily forgotten.
“Really?”
James tints his head, arms mimicking yours as he crosses them.
“You've never had it?”
“I'm new to the area, first time here.”
An embarrassing giggle leaves your body before you bite your lip.
“What's your favorite story?”
James wondered, more out loud than he intended. Internally, his mind is searching for every answer to categorize you.
“Like in general? I love a good lovelorn, star-crossed lovers trope.”
“You're a masochist”
James guffawed, before fixing his tone with an awkward tone.
“Just a little.”
You replied, a dose of suggestiveness in your voice that sprinkled James' cheeks with pink.
Reaching over you, James grabs the book you both were here for. Gently flipping and caressing the pages.
“So, are you from the area, then?”
James inquires, his palm laying flat at one of the open pages.
“Yeah”
You hum with amused eyes, your interest peaked with what this man might suggest.
“Maybe you can show me around the best parts of town,”
He starts, slipping the front cover of the book shut with a final look before softly grabbing one of your hands and molding it around the book.
“And maybe I can borrow it after you're done.”
He finishes with a nod, a bright glowing blushed dusting his cheeks before he turns and walks out of the crowded aisle before you could get a word out.
When your mind finishes processing what had just occurred, you jolt up. Searching for James with no avail.
So, you continue your mission to the front count with a slight lump and jump in your heart.
It wasn't until you were curled up on your couch, coffee on the table. Frost dancing designs on your balcony glass door. A record scratching symphonies softly in the back when those few digits scratched and black pen fall out the cover of your new book. James' name at the very top.
jimbo gets kissed by slightly intoxicated masc!reader at a holiday party at willne’s office, chaos ensues
run wild with this one
-☀️
My dear, lovely, anon
This was supposed to be out of my drafts centuries ago... please don't come at me with a pitchfork and torch with how short this is (・_・;)
Liquid Courage
Synopsis: a bit of liquid courage gives one the bravery to initiate what's been on their mind.
masc!reader x James Marriott
Word Count: 664
Contains: fluff if you squint
Warnings: drunk reader, Willne playing matchmaker
[m.list]
The atmosphere that was once filled with festive music and not that alcoholic of drinks, was now blasting drill with people either walking straight or stumbling.
Will's hearty laugh rang into James’ ears as he pointed out some lyrics James had missed. Up against the wall, his social battery draining ages ago, the cup of juice in his hand tasting too bitter for his liking.
It wasn't that James didn't like these people, he actually thoroughly enjoyed everyone's presence here. Or he did an hour ago.
But now, he wanted to catch a Uber home. Maybe treat himself to a takeout that he would have to fend Otto off of. A perfect night in his book.
Or maybe he did wanna stay here, just a bit longer.
Belting out the slurred lyrics of the pop song that now pounded against the speaker. Arm clutching your stomach like you were actually trying, until a laugh bubbled up your throat and your drink flowed down the edges of the cup it sat in.
James was entranced. Plain to say. From how you had ditched your sweater when the alcohol you had consumed was enough to keep you warm. To the way your once neat hair was now a frizzy mess. Who knew people could have so much fun at a corporate party.
James knew you, or of you. Editing for Will for as long as he had known him, and Will trying to interfere with both of your lives.
“Look! Y/N is here!”
Will basically scream, the music was not that loud. At least to sober ears.
Will was absolutely convinced the two were meant, for reasons he'd rather keep to himself.
“Y/N!”
Will screamed once again.
James' cheeks flushed as you looked over at the two wallflowers. Walking to them. Him. Walking to him.
With glassy glazed eyes, and a cup of a terribly proportion cocktail swishing in your hand.
“James” you slurred, barely coherent. At least, that's what he thought you said. It sounded more like “Games”, but as long as it was directed at him. He was ok.
“Y/n”
James smiled, offering a side hug.
Both of your arms wrap around him, lips coming to chase a kiss onto his cheek.
“That's what the French do, no?”
You hum before continuing, looking up at him, “Wait, here.”
A single long, unmoving kiss onto his lips.
Your lips tasted like the most alcohol he's had in years, which made him flinch away.
Tilting your head as you pull away, “Uh sorry I-”
“No no, you're ok”
James quickly interjected, “It just tastes like alcohol” he laughed off.
Eyes looking on in horror as your jaw becomes slack. Laughing at your expression, looking to his side to share this moment only to see Will had gone.
“James wait I didn't, I wouldn't-”
One gentle, but firm, hand on your shoulder. A soft squeeze that turned to a half-done massage.
“I appreciate it, just, would enjoy it more…you know, with a bit more warning next time.”
You frantically nod, your buzzing mind pleading to make amends.
James looks you up and down with a giddy smile, “so, are you going to ask next time?”
“Can I kiss you James?”
“Yes”
It was breathless, and James was sure his lips landed on yours first. It wasn't rough or hurried, or lustful or intense.
James fingers skipped down your arm, gently prying your red cup out of your grip before intertwining your fingers together with his.
His other hand went up to your cheek, gently caressing it as he pulled away.
You're nodding at unspoken words when James looks down at you, his hand gently stroking your cheekbone.
“That was better,” James hums, his eyes darting away from you for a moment to see if Will had suddenly appeared.
And he did. Across the room, giving the most obnoxious thumbs up and giggling into his own hand. James would never hear the end of this.
