pookietv - Tumblr blog

pookietv · 1 month ago

Text

intellectual sparring | arthur frederick

please take this as my humble apology for being gone so long!!! i've been in hospital for a bit so this is an older draft i've kinda gone through and re-jigged :P

you had never seen yourself as the type of girl to take intellectual sparring as some twisted kind of foreplay.

but here you were.

you hated it - how you could feel your cheeks heat a little whilst the back and forth continued every time. how smug he could be when he was right, like playing monopoly with the worst winner ever.

arthur had never seen himself as the type of guy to be provoked by a girl so easily.

but here he was.

he could handle you being just smart - but your quick comebacks and teasing smile and everything else that followed just made it all seem so hard. hard to act normal around you without some flirty comments or too-long-lasting stares.

a stupid debate about the ethics behind deception and lying sparked this one: you had both been on the small outside balcony of chris, arthur and george's apartment whilst they were having people round, and you made some comment about hating the taste of sambuca, him calling you a liar playfully, remarking that he had seen you drink it all the time, you replying that you didn't lie.

arthur thought white lies were a kind of social kindness, that some things are necessary to not hurt people, like saying someone's awful outfit looked good. you thought deviating from the truth was a dangerous precedent.

"so you're telling me you'd tell me i looked like shit, even if i was already having a bad day?" arthur raised his eyebrow, a curious look on his face as if he had a 'gotcha' moment.

"i'd tell you you looked like shit if you asked me, and you did look bad. i'm not saying i say everything i think, just if someone asks me, i wouldn't lie," you grinned back, "and anyways, if you looked like shit i would delight in that."

he paused for a moment, "what about if it was for safety? if you had to lie for that?"

"what, like you're some noble protector who knows what's best for everyone?" you joked back, watching him roll his eyes, "safety is one of the places i'd lean towards your argument, but that's such a small outlier in this debate - we're talking about socially."

he moved to be a little closer to you now, tension palpable in the air, a grin on his face as if he was saying 'you just admitted my argument had some form of correctness'.

"oh, wipe that smirk off your face, arthur... what about your precious chess? would you try and trick me in chess?" you asked, looking up to him slightly, eyebrows raised a little like a challenge.

"and you'd fall for it every time, trying to be honourable." he quipped back, taking a small drink from his cup, as if a reward for his quick comeback.

"you think you're so smart, don't you?" you turned to him, eyes narrowed a little, your tone sharp and joking.

"i don't think it, darling, i know it." he said back, tone lowered slightly, hearing it sending a shiver down your back for a moment, leaving you to pause and take a sip of your drink, not daring to look him in the eyes.

you knew all too well if you looked at him now, the embarrassing mix of attraction and irritation would be blatantly obvious. it felt like forbidden fruit, your own pride a disallowance to indulge.

i just.. don't think lying is acceptable. i'd rather be honest and someone uses me for that than lying for no reason other than social acceptance," you snapped back. you could feel him getting under your skin, and you wouldn't care so much if it wasn't for how good he looked whilst doing it. stood there, arms crossed, shirt sinfully tight on his biceps as his arms were crossed against his chest.

"what does 'acceptable' even mean in this context though? the morality? is there an explicit immorality in lying?" he asked, his eyes running over you for a moment, in appreciation of the dress that curved over your body especially nicely.

"i think to people you know, yes. lying for safety or to strangers is a different ball court, but in a friendship, or anything like that? yeah, lying is off the table to me."

"so, you believe there should be no secrets between anyone who cares for one another?" he asked, a smirk painted across his face. "so, you'd have nothing to hide?"

you held his gaze, you had to, you could not break the eye contact first, even despite the raging blush across your cheeks. the implicit challenge in his tone, the continued eye contact as he'd manipulated your honesty debate into something far more intimate.

"i said before, secrets are different from lies, arthur," you countered back, but your voice was embarrassingly quiet now, nursing another swallow of your drink in hopes it would douse some of the heat surging through your body, your fingertips feeling almost electric.

his eyebrow raised, smirk still playing on his lips, the quirk in his face both a challenge and curiosity.

"so where would you draw that line?" he said - almost purred, "for example, there's lots i don't know about you," he asked, eyes dropping to your lips for the slightest of seconds before gaining eye contact again, "so, in your argument - it's a secret 'til you get asked, but if someone asked you wouldn't lie?"

he took another slow sip of his drink, watching you gulp down air briefly as the silence stretches for a moment.

"you're trying to trap me, aren't you?" you finally managed, a brittle smile on your face and your voice a little breathy, "turn this into some confessional rather than a debate about ethics," you tried to quip back, but it just didn't hold the same weight.

arthur chuckled a little, the vibration passing through the air like static electricity, and leaned himself a little against the railing you stood next to, "well, that's part of a debate, no? personal application? or.. are you arguing abstractly, cause when i press you about the reality of always telling the truth, it's not convenient?" he asked lowly, his gaze almost sharpened, "if you truly believed what you were arguing, you'd be an open book. unless, there are things you would be asked and wouldn't answer, which would make you... a bit of a hypocrite, no, sweetheart?"

you hated how stubborn you were. too, too stubborn. you wanted some air-tight, razor sharp comeback but the only thing you could muster up without backing down was: "well, why don't you try prove your stupid hypothesis? if you are right, i wouldn't answer, right?"

his smirk widened - the stupid, self-confident curve of his lips sending another jolt through you as he weighed up the challenge, whilst all was running through your head was 'why on earth did i say that'.

you could see his mind whirring, thinking up what he could ask you, how far he could push your buttons into something you wouldn't answer just to prove his own point.

he pushed himself from the railing, taking a deliberate step towards you, until you felt his warmth radiating, the feeling dizzying. his gaze was assessing and teasing, looking at your flushed cheeks.

"so, if i asked you what you thought of me, you'd be able to tell me the absolute truth?" he asked, his voice laced with a dangerous charm.

"if you asked me what i thought of you right now, i'd say you seem like you're enjoying this." you spoke, albeit quietly. not technically lying, just omitting some small truths over the fact that despite how frustrating he could be, it was all you could think about to rip his clothes off right about now.

"oh, i'm definitely enjoying this. you've dug yourself into a hole of answering anything i ask you with absolute honesty, or admitting that i was right, which is something you will never do, if i know the first thing about you." he said, his head tilting down slightly, the smell of his cologne intoxicating, "but that wasn't really my question, i asked of what you thought of me, not just right now, you know, the absolute truth stuff," he paused, grinning, "and remember, you don't lie, right?"

your head spun in a search for some non-committal or witty or clever way of approaching this, the air feeling thick as his eyes were glued on you, like a dare for you to lie.

your throat felt dry, "you're.. infuriating," you managed at first, watching the corners of his mouth twitch and amusement flood his eyes.

"and?" he prompted, voice low, teasing.

"and.. surprisingly good at getting under my skin."

but his eyes still lingered - you knew he was waiting for you to say more, and you had walked yourself into this.

"and.. i find you unbelievably attractive." you finally blurted out, a frantic whisper as your eyes widened with the undeniable admission.

you watched as arthurs smirk faded into a soft, surprised smile that completely disarmed you - though the cocky, teasing 'i'm always right' look still stayed in his eyes.

"is that the truth?" he murmured, and he was so close to you that your skin felt like it was burning. god, this was embarrassing. you hadn't even touched and you felt yourself running on pure adrenaline.

your heart was slamming against your ribs as you breathed out "yes."

"good," he continued lowly, "because i think you're pretty infuriating too."

the tension in the air throbbed.

"and for the record," he spoke lowly as he leaned in, "i find you incredibly attractive."

and before you could even register it, you felt his lips on yours. you wished you had stopped to care about the fact that the balcony door was glass and anyone who dared to look at the balcony would see your hands reach for the back of his neck, heavy breaths escaping you both as pulling back would feel like the highest form of blasphemy, not when his fingers grasped at your hips like the easiest participation in prayer.

and so when you woke up in the morning, his arm draped lazily over your bare back like it belonged there, his chest rising and falling slowly as slits of yellowish light protruded through his blinds, you wished you could say you were surprised. flashes of the night blurred your memory as you came to, both of your clothes strewn on the floor as if they belonged there - a trailing art piece towards arthur's bed.

and when you heard arthur's raspy, half-sleep laced voice murmur out, "morning, lovie"

you knew you were fucked.

#arthur frederick #arthur frederick x reader #arthur tv #arthur tv x reader #arthurtv

105 notes · View notes

pookietv · 2 months ago

Text

SORRY i have literally been so MIA i am back home for the summer and home is,, not a great place for me so i kinda slack and cut myself off from the world so i'm so so sorry about that!

i'd love to say i'll be back soon but honestly i have no idea when im gonna feel like myself again

sorry i know this is a bit of a deeper thing than i'd usually post but i just felt you guys were owed a bit of honesty and it feels good to tell the truth :)

ily guys and the community so so much and i know this is just a periodic phase i go through sometimes so,,,

#beebabbles

10 notes · View notes

pookietv · 2 months ago

Text

so i'm barking like a dog ...

ʂɨȶ քʀɛȶȶʏ.ˢᵐᵘᵗ

⋆ ۫ ┊ ┊ . ★.˚ ┊ . ˚☆HE DIDN'T even hear you come in.

Arthur was deep in it ⸺ the kind of hyperfocus he only ever reached when he forgot time existed. His back was curved over his laptop, glow of the screen painting his face in cool blue tones, one hand buried in his hair while the other dragged clips along a timeline with obsessive precision. The faint clack of his keyboard, the occasional curse under his breath, something about “should’ve trimmed that bit shorter” and “transition’s too sharp”, filled the otherwise quiet flat.

His headphones were half-off, one ear uncovered so he could still hear the world around him, though clearly not well enough. He didn’t notice your soft footsteps on the carpet. Didn’t notice the way you lingered just beyond the doorframe, watching.

god, he looked so fucking good like this.

vurls pushed back and messy, sleeves of his hoodie shoved up to his elbows. His socked feet were tucked under him in the chair, hunched posture betraying how long he’d been glued to that desk. He was beautiful in the casual, accidental way he always was ⸺ soft and serious, utterly unaware of how completely undone he made you just by existing.

You shifted slightly, feeling the silk of your robe brush against your skin. Nervous butterflies swarmed your stomach, fluttering with anticipation. You were barely dressed underneath, more thread than fabric, and for a moment you hovered there, breath catching as you debated whether to go through with it.

Thhen: “Hey,” you said softly.

Arthur startled. He spun his chair halfway around, blinking like he’d just surfaced from deep water, his hand flying to pull off the other headphone. “Hey, babe ⸺ ”

His voice stopped mid-sentence.

Because the robe slipped from your shoulders.

It fell in a whisper-soft puddle to the floor. Silence stretched in the space it left behind.

Arthur’s mouth parted. His eyes flicked down your body and then back up, completely stunned. You could see the moment his brain genuinely short-circuited.

You stood there in the soft gold spill of hallway light, wearing almost nothing. Just a pale, sheer slip ⸺ lace and silk so fine it might as well have been spun from fog. It hugged your waist and dipped at the hips, barely covering anything. The neckline swooped low across your chest, the hem barely grazing the tops of your thighs, leaving your legs long and bare in the quiet warmth of the room.

“I got this for you,” you said, voice low but steady.

He didn’t speak. His eyes scanned every inch of you like he was afraid he might miss something. like he wasn’t sure you were real. You watched his throat move as he swallowed hard, and then again. His chest rose and fell faster now ⸺ almost visibly trembling. You could see his arousal building: the way his legs shifted beneath the desk, thighs tensing. The growing outline in his joggers. His fingers twitched at his sides like he didn’t know where to put them.

“I ⸺ ” Arthur exhaled a laugh, hoarse. “You’re joking.”

You let your fingers drift down your thighs, slow and teasing, and took a step forward. “Does it look like I’m joking?”

He shook his head helplessly, jaw slack, pupils blown so wide his eyes looked nearly black.

You closed the distance. slow, dreamlike. and climbed into his lap with deliberate grace. The silk of your slip clung to your thighs as you settled over him, the fabric catching just slightly on the cotton of his hoodie, static and heat blooming where your bodies touched. Your knees sank into either side of his hips, caging him in.

As you lowered yourself onto his lap, your barely-covered cunt brushed right over the hard length straining against his joggers, just a glancing pressure, but enough to make you both suck in a breath. The thin lace of your slip did nothing to hide the heat of you, how soft and wet you already were. You could feel the outline of him through the fabric. thick, pulsing ⸺ and when your hips shifted slightly to settle, the friction dragged a soft whimper from his throat.

Arthur’s whole body jolted. His hands flew to hover at your waist, trembling, unsure ⸺ like even touching you might make you vanish. His eyes locked on yours, pupils blown wide, lips parted as he exhaled a shaky, desperate breath.

“Fuck,” he whispered, voice raw. “You’re.. you’re right there.”

You smiled faintly, letting your hips rock just a little ⸺ a teasing roll that made your clothed cunt drag along the length of him again, delicious and slow.

“Mm,” you murmured. “I noticed.”

He groaned, low and wrecked, his head falling back slightly as if the sensation alone was too much. His fingers twitched at your hips, not quite gripping, not quite letting go. You could feel how hot he was under you, how much he needed you, and how hard he was trying not to move, not to thrust up and chase the friction.

His breath hitched. “You look.. I can’t ⸺ fuck. You look unreal.”

You smiled and leaned in to press your lips to the sharp edge of his jaw. “Can I stay here for a bit?”

“Please do,” he whispered, and finally let his hands settle on your thighs, featherlight, reverent. Like you were sacred.

His hands settled on your thighs at last. tentative, reverent, fingertips tracing the curve of your skin like he still couldn’t believe you were real. But then you shifted forward again, slow and deliberate, dragging your clothed cunt along the thick ridge of him straining beneath his joggers.

Arthur gasped, sharp and guttural, his whole body jolting beneath you. His hips bucked up instinctively, chasing the friction before he could stop himself, a broken curse falling from his lips as the contact sent a visible shudder through him.

“Fuck,” he breathed.

“Good,” you murmured, brushing a kiss to the corner of his lips. “Want to take this off me?”

His eyes darkened instantly.

He nodded slowly, as if he was still processing the question. Then his hands slid up your sides, the pads of his fingers grazing the lace, the silk, the bare sliver of skin where your ribs curved into your waist.

When he reached your chest, he paused.

“Is this okay?” he asked, voice barely audible.

You nodded once. “Yes.”

Arthur exhaled like he’d been holding it in for hours, and then, gently, so gently, slipped the straps from your shoulders. His fingers trembled as he peeled them down, knuckles brushing your skin, until the silk pooled at your waist with a sigh.

The moment your breasts came into view, he stilled.

His breath caught audibly. His mouth genuinely parted. Eyes dragged over you like he was afraid to blink and miss a second of it. He didn’t speak ⸺ couldn’t ⸺ just stared, completely undone, like he was looking at something sacred. His cheeks were flushed, lips pink and parted, the tension in his jaw giving away how hard he was trying to keep it together.

“Jesus Christ,” he whispered finally, almost like it wasn’t meant to be heard. “You’re.. you’re fucking breathtaking.”

And still, he didn’t touch ⸺ like he couldn’t believe he was allowed.

You leaned in close, lips brushing the shell of his ear, your breath warm and slow. “You’re allowed to touch me, Arthur.”

The sound he made in response was guttural. full-bodied, low, like it had been dragged from the very base of his spine. His hands moved instantly, almost blindly, cupping your bare breasts with a kind of desperate care. His thumbs swept over your nipples, slow and reverent, watching the way your mouth parted and your breath caught in your throat, the way your whole body arched into his touch.

You could feel how hard he was beneath you, thick and straining through the layers of fabric, so hot it felt like it was burning right through to your skin. Without meaning to, your hips rolled forward. a slow, needy grind that made your soaked panties drag across his cock, slick catching on the ridge of him through his joggers.

Arthur whimpered. Full-on, breathless and wrecked, his head dropping to your shoulder like the sensation short-circuited his brain.

“Can I ⸺ ” he gasped, voice raw, “Can I be inside you? Just like this? Please, I.. I need to be inside you.”

Your heart fluttered at how sincere it was. how desperate.

You smiled, letting your lips graze his jaw. “You want me to ride you?” you asked, voice low and thick with heat.

His breath stuttered. He nodded, fast, almost dizzy. “Yeah. God, yes. Please. I need you.”

You kissed him once. slow, deep, and lingering. your lips parting his, tasting the ragged edge of his breath. His hands clung to your waist like he didn’t want you to move, but when you finally pulled back, his eyes fluttered open, heavy-lidded and desperate.

“Hold on,” you whispered, and shifted back just enough to reach between your bodies.

Arthur let out a shaky sound as you gripped the waistband of his joggers and briefs, your fingers brushing against the thick line of him through the fabric. He was hot and straining beneath your touch, twitching slightly as you dragged the layers down his thighs. His cock sprang free, flushed and leaking at the tip, already so hard it curved up toward his stomach. The sight of him, thick, veined, so so so perfect ⸺ made your entire body pulse with heat.

He was panting now, jaw slack, watching you like he was watching a wet dream unfold in real time. His eyes dropped to your center, where the soaked lace clung between your legs, and he let out a quiet, reverent, “Fuck,,.”

You climbed back over him, moving slowly, deliberately ⸺ until you were straddling his hips again, your knees braced on either side, your bare heat poised just above the thick, aching length of him.

He looked like he was holding his breath.

You reached down between your bodies, guiding him with a firm, practiced grip, lining him up right at your entrance. He was hot and slick in your hand, twitching in your grasp as you rubbed the head against your folds, spreading your wetness over him in slow, teasing circles.

Then, with the slowest, most torturous care, you began to sink down onto him.

The stretch made you gasp, made your body tighten around him inch by inch. Your walls fluttered as he filled you slowly, the pressure sharp and exquisite, heat licking up your spine as your thighs trembled with the effort of staying slow. Arthur’s head tipped back, mouth falling open as a raw, shuddering groan spilled from his chest.

“fucking.. fffuck,” he gasped, hands flying to your waist ⸺ not to stop you, but to anchor himself. His fingers flexed, gripped, tried and failed to stay gentle as you took more of him, inch by inch, until he was seated fully inside you.

His breath was a series of broken sounds. hitched, overwhelmed, helpless.

“Jesus Christ,” he whispered. “You’re so fucking tight.. I can feel everything. holy shit.. holy shit.”

You rested your hands on his chest, heart pounding, and rocked your hips once ⸺ slow and deliberate ⸺ just to feel him move inside you.

His entire body jerked.

“God,” he groaned. “You feel ⸺ fuck, you feel so good ⸺ ”

You rolled your hips again, slow and indulgent, letting him feel every inch of your heat sliding around him. Arthur’s reaction was instant. a choked moan that tore from his chest, his arms tightening around your waist like he physically couldn’t handle the pleasure without anchoring himself to you.

“Fuck,” he whimpered, voice already falling apart. “you feel so good, I can’t ⸺ I can’t even think.”

You leaned in, lips brushing against his, and moved again, a deliberate grind, pressing down until you were flush against him. His entire body shuddered beneath you, fingers digging into your thighs like he needed to hold on or else completely unravel.

“You’re doing so well,” you whispered, biting gently at his jaw. “So deep inside me, baby. You feel that?”

Arthur gasped like he’d been slapped. “Yeah,” he breathed, almost helpless. “God, yeah. I feel all of you ⸺ I feel everything. You’re so warm, you’re ⸺ fuck, you’re perfect.”

You kissed him again, deep and hungry, hips starting to pick up a steady rhythm. Every bounce, every grind dragged more frantic little sounds from his throat, moans that got higher, softer, more desperate the longer you rode him. He was panting into your mouth, hands trembling, eyes half-lidded and dazed like he couldn’t believe this was real.

He clung to you, trying to match your rhythm, trying to last ⸺ but you could tell he was already teetering on the edge.

His hands moved to your hips again, not to take control, never that ⸺ but to hold you there, as if letting go would break him. You moved faster, your pace just a little sharper, and he let out a shattered, almost whimpering, “Oh my god.”

You leaned in, lips right at his ear. “Is that okay?”

His breath hitched so violently it made his whole body twitch. He nodded rapidly, voice raw and pleading.

“Yeah ⸺yeah, please, don’t stop, please don’t stop, I’m so close, I can’t ⸺ please, just like that, please keep going ⸺ ”

His words tumbled out fast, half-mumbled, all broken. He was completely gone for you, eyes glassy, jaw slack, cock twitching helplessly inside you every time you moved.

You didn’t stop.

Your thighs trembled from the effort, muscles tightening and releasing with each steady bounce, every movement sending delicious, shuddering ripples through both of you. The delicate lace of your slip clung damply around your waist, the silky fabric soaked with your heat and sweat, sticking to your skin like a second skin. Strands of your hair fell forward, brushing softly against the shell of his ear, the sharp line of his jaw, and the curve of his neck, making him shiver beneath your touch.

Arthur’s face was flushed ⸺ deep rose spreading across his cheeks and the bridge of his nose, lips parted and trembling, catching shallow, ragged breaths that came fast and uneven, like he was trying to hold himself together but couldn’t quite manage it. His eyes were half-lidded, glassy with a mixture of lust and disbelief, dark pools that shone with a frantic kind of need.

His hands were wild. shaking, uncertain ⸺ splayed wide on your hips as though he wasn’t sure how to hold you without breaking you, or himself. Every muscle beneath his hoodie looked taut and coiled, desperate to ground himself against the storm of sensation you were driving through him. His fingers dug into your skin lightly, leaving faint impressions that vanished as quickly as they appeared, like he was trying to memorize the way you felt ⸺ the softness, the heat, the way your body moved beneath his.

“Please,” he gasped, voice trembling into a near-whimper, brittle and fragile, a broken plea that wrapped around you like a desperate thread. “Please, I ⸺ I can’t ⸺ You feel too good, too tight ⸺ I’m gonna ⸺ I’m going to lose it ⸺ ”

Your lips found the curve of his jaw, your breath warm and heavy as you whispered softly, slow and teasing, “Can’t what, Arthur? Say it for me.”

A broken, wet whimper slipped from his throat ⸺ a sound so raw and vulnerable it made your chest ache. His head dropped forward, nuzzling into your neck, like burying himself in you might somehow slow the rapid beating of his heart.

“I’m not gonna last,” he stammered, voice cracking under the weight of how close he was, “Please, please don’t stop ⸺ I need you, I need to come with you inside me ⸺ ”

His hands gripped your hips like they were the only anchor keeping him tethered to reality, fingers trembling with the effort of holding on. His hips jerked involuntarily, chasing the friction, craving every inch of your warmth and tightness. You could feel the desperate twitch of his cock beneath you, rock hard and pulsing, straining against the fabric of his joggers ⸺ and it sent a flood of want coursing through your own veins.

“You want to come for me?” you murmured, voice low and thick with promise, lips brushing the shell of his ear. “Want to fill me up, baby?”

His response was a guttural groan ⸺ long, desperate, and utterly broken. It was the sound of a man undone, unraveling at the edges in the best possible way.

“Yes. Fuck yes,” he begged, voice ragged and soaked with need. “Please, please let me, please let me come. I need to feel you around me, I can’t hold on ⸺ ”

You pressed your palm flat against his chest, feeling the frantic, uneven beating of his heart beneath your hand, wild and ragged, mirroring your own racing pulse.

“Then let go,” you whispered, voice soft but insistent. “Let me feel you.”

That was all it took.

Arthur’s body arched sharply beneath you, a strangled cry tearing from his throat as he came with a raw, shuddering intensity ⸺ hips bucking uncontrollably, fingers digging into your skin as his breath hitched and broke in ragged gasps. The warmth of him flooding inside you was exquisite and overwhelming, a molten wave that left him trembling and breathless.

“Oh, fuck,” he panted, face buried against your shoulder, voice cracked and raw. “I can feel every inch of you ⸺ so tight, so warm ⸺ God, I ⸺ ”

You held him close, cradling his head against your chest as his body shook with the force of his release, fingers threading through the curls at the nape of his neck, soothing him as he slowly came down from the edge. His breath was hot and ragged against your skin, mingling with the faint scent of his sweat and aftershave, intoxicating and utterly his.

His eyes fluttered open, glassy and luminous, lips swollen and trembling with exertion, curls damp and clinging to his damp forehead.

He cupped your face gently, thumb brushing along your cheek as he whispered, voice low and thick with emotion, “Fuck, I love you so much. So much.”

You smiled, heart swelling as you leaned in, nose brushing his softly. “I love you too, Arthur.”

And he kissed you again. slow, deep, reverent ⸺ a kiss full of everything his words couldn’t say, still trembling with the aftershocks of desire and love that you and only you could bring out in him.

#beerecommends

308 notes · View notes

pookietv · 2 months ago

Text

drooling btw xx

closing arguments (2)

part one, part two, part three

description: you and arthur have always been rivals, competing over everything from grades to courtroom wins. but when rivalry starts to feel like something more, losing to him doesn’t feel like losing anymore.

contains: fluff, eventual smut, rivals to lovers trope, lawyer!fem!reader

song rec: never be the same by camilla cabello- "just one hit of you, i knew i'll never, ever, ever be the same."

w.c: 778+

a.n: this chapter is dedicated solely to @livvymd, thank you for your help babes. 💗

the second you stepped into the bar, all glass and shadows and soft jazz, you felt it-his gaze, landing on you like a claim. your black dress clung like it knew the stakes, your heels echoing like a countdown.

from his seat at the bar, arthur turned- slow, delibrate, unstartled. like he’d felt you before he saw you. like some part of him had been waiting. he didn’t move a muscle, didn’t shift in his chair, but his eyes swept over you with a precision that felt almost surgical. clinical, focused, and laced with something darker. hungrier.

his gaze dragged up your legs, paused at your hips, lingered at the neckline of your dress like it was a secret only he had permission to read. and then- he met your eyes.

calm. unreadable. blazing.

like a man who’d spent years pretending you were just another opponent across the aisle… and had finally stopped lying to himself.

you were used to being looked at. stared at. sized up.

this wasn’t that.

arthur frederick looked at you like you were the first case he couldn’t win by keeping his distance.

because this wasn’t about the law anymore.

this was about you.

he wore a black short-sleeve button-up that hugged his frame a little too well, paired with black pants and crisp white sneakers. he stood up as you approached, and that smug little half-smile stretched across his face.

“wow,” he said, voice softer now. “i didn’t think you’d dress to kill…but here i am. officially murdered.”

you laughed, sliding onto the barstool next to him. “you never turn it off, do you?”

“only if you ask real nice,” he murmured, eyes crinkling at the corners. then, after a pause, “you look incredible, by the way.”

you hadn’t expected that- not the softness in his voice, not the sincerity behind the teasing. heat crept up your neck, blooming across your cheeks as you glanced down, suddenly hyper-aware of the way your black dress hugged your frame. with nothing to fidget with, your hands settled uselessly in your lap, fingers twisting together as if they might ground you. you could feel his gaze lingering, warm and steady, and it took everything in you not to look back.

just then, the bartender appeared, saving you from having to say anything at all. “dirty martini, please. extra olives.”

arthur leaned his elbow on the counter, his gaze never leaving you. “of course you drink something with bite. fitting.”

“and let me guess,” you said, eyes narrowing. “old fashioned?”

“whiskey sour, actually.” he raised his glass. “sharp, a little unexpected, but still classic.”

you clinked glasses, and the first sip settled into a comfortable buzz of conversation and glances that lingered a little too long. what had begun as a professional rivalry was unraveling itself under soft jazz and dim lights. you talked about law school, the professors you hated, the cases that still haunted you, and the small rebellions you each allowed yourselves.

and through it all, he kept complimenting you- not in the overbearing, trying-too-hard way- but in a way that made you feel...seen.

the flirtation was steady, comfortable, laced with tension that had been simmering for years. when you moved to a private table by the window, the energy shifted- softer now, slower. he kept stealing glances at you between sips. and you let him.

when the bill came, he didn’t let you reach for your wallet.

“consider it a professional courtesy,” he said.

you rolled your eyes. “you’re still losing next hearing.”

“we’ll see,” he said, smiling.

outside, the air was cool and quiet. the streets were mostly empty, save for the hum of distant traffic. he offered to walk you home, and you didn’t even think twice before saying yes.

the walk was slow, easy. you were just tipsy enough for the world to feel soft around the edges. he kept pace beside you, hands in his pockets, posture relaxed.

“you were different tonight,” you said suddenly.

“different how?”

“less...unbearable.”

he chuckled. “i’ll take that as progress.”

you leaned into him without thinking, your shoulder brushing his. and he didn’t hesitate- his arm slid around your shoulders, warm and steady.

you let out a quiet sigh, the kind that came from feeling safe, not from exhaustion.

“don’t read into this,” you murmured.

“i’m a lawyer,” he said, his voice close to your temple. “i read into everything.”

you smiled, resting your head briefly against his shoulder as the city blurred past.

at your door, you paused. he looked at you with something gentler than you were used to. no arrogance. no teasing. just...arthur.

you leaned in. and he met you halfway.

the kiss was slow, sweet, unhurried. his hand settled lightly at your waist. he tasted like citrus and something deeper- something that made your stomach flip.

when you pulled back, neither of you spoke for a moment.

“i’ll call you,” he said finally, voice low.

you nodded. “you better.”

he waited until you were inside before he turned to leave.

and as you leaned back against the door, your pulse still skimming beneath your skin, your lips tingling from the kiss-

you let yourself smile.

because for once, it hadn’t felt like a power play.

it had just felt good. natural. easy.

like maybe, with him, it didn’t always have to be a war.

#beereccomends

145 notes · View notes

pookietv · 2 months ago

Text

'why is she talking bad when she went through something like this?' oh yeah because i FUCKING CAN?

genuinely trying to shame people for their past or trauma or headspace is disgusting - and you've made yourself look like a bigger arse than any of us do.

tumblr used to be such a safe space where id enjoy posting my work and interacting with other fabulous writers, and hence why im devastated that this person *ahem* lana clarke has shared something that violates so many people and their stories.

i will be taking a break, as this has rattled me - what she says about me fazes me less than the sheer nerve to talk shit abiut others.

please, respect other people who have been affected by this and report the account, block anything you can.

love to all my other gorgeous writers and others who have been affected by this.

47 notes · View notes

pookietv · 2 months ago

Text

this is such a horrible thing to be going on atm, i am so sorry for anyone who has had their personal stories shared online by this account, and i am so sorry that somewhere we aimed to be a safe space has been torn down by someone with cruel intentions like this.

please block their account and don’t interact with their posts.

ily all and i hate having to make a serious post like this - i hope everyone who was in the server is okay and especially those who had their private matters shared online due to petty vindictiveness.

addressing @lanaclarke’s insane post.

first and foremost DO NOT READ IT! it contains private information shared by members of the network. All the information shared was between friends and people who have trust and love for each other.

“lana” claimed we kicked her before asking about the pictures. let me give you some context for that one. she said they were posted on her pinterest. mind you, this person said her name was lana. the pictures one of our members stumbled upon on pinterest were posted by a girl named anna and linked to her instagram. which stated she was 20. and i’m sorry - but why would you claim to be 18, born in 2007 but then have your instagram say you’re 20? not to mention she told us she is from australia and shared a picture of her in swim wear on the beach, saying she went to the beach when it’s currently winter in australia.

we kicked her because we suspected catfishing. she had every chance to defend herself - i never blocked her on discord. and i hadn’t blocked her on here up until a few days after the kick.

now what’s really concerning - the private stories she shared had been posted after we had kicked her. which means someone either decided to share them with her OR she has a second account she never disclosed and joined through that. which, i think we can all agree on, is insane.

for that reason, I have kicked everyone from the server for now, adding people back after a throughout discussion with my co-admin.

whatever the fuck is going on, i can and will not stand for it. oh, and the “talking bad about ppl behind their backs?” bffr - we criticised someone for using ai to write their fics - if you don’t see anything wrong with that… that’s a you problem.

i’m very sorry to all of our members for this happening, i am truly dumbfounded and horrified. well message you all once we’ve sorted out what to do.

much love,

mitchie & g

88 notes · View notes

pookietv · 2 months ago

Note

hey bee 😛😛 daily reminder you're fucking awesome ily

(i also cannot wait for more reads from you 👅👅)

AAA tysm!!!! writing as i recieved this message, ur such a cutie 😋😋😋

3 notes · View notes

pookietv · 2 months ago

Note

pookie

wife !!!!!

3 notes · View notes

pookietv · 2 months ago

Note

Random request that isnt smut lol but imagine arthur and reader are neighbors (maybe reader has just moved in so they don't know each other yet) and reader is playing an instrument a bit too loud. But arthur needs it to be quiet for a video or something similar. And he meets her for the first time...?

Also love all of your work!!!

well, here this is!!! hope you enjoy!!

#beebabbles

3 notes · View notes

pookietv · 2 months ago

Text

hypnosis | arthurtv

hi! this was so cute to write - from a request!!

hope you all enjoy :)

it was too much to take.

that was what arthur should have said last week, when he heard the mournful noise of cello through his walls whilst he was sat in his office, snipping through clips for a vlog with a half eaten bowl of pasta next to him, growing colder as he moved to take a bite once every five or so minutes.

he had let it grate on him. at first, he told himself it was nice. the music was beautiful - soft, haunting cello pieces wasn't exactly the worst noise a neighbor could be making, his days at university sharing halls with people who were less than quiet after nightclub hookups were an all too familiar reminder of this, and he tried to count himself thankful, thinking 'at least it's not drums'.

but there was only so much gratitude he could play to the new soundtrack of his apartment.

this week had crossed a line - he was trying to film now, not just editing. he had set up his lighting precariously, plugged in too many wires to his camera, mic, laptop and ran through the intro too many times before the moment he pressed the red button to film, a crescendo-wail making him jump in his chair, followed by a pinch of the bridge of his nose.

a frustrated sigh slipped his mouth, one hand gripping into a fist a little too tight, his knuckles slightly whitened. before he could do a double-take to think rationally, something he prided himself on doing, he was standing up and storming out of his office, padding down his hallways with intention and yanking open his front door.

irritation was fueling him as he walked through the landing, before coming to a stop, staring at the apartment door - 32A.

he lifted his arm to the door, his knuckles connecting with the cold wood in three sharp taps. he heard the music pause, and prepared himself to unleash a cold-and-firm-yet-still-polite-enough barrage of complaints.

but when the door opened, standing in the doorway was a person arthur hadn't seen before. the softer lighting from her apartment compared to him bathed the figure in front of him - hair pulled in a messy style, held together by a clip in the back, strands fallen in front but pulled behind the ears, a shirt that was larger than her, with the faded print of a band covered her, with shorts peeking from underneath. it was her eyes that were interesting though, wide and slightly startled, lashes curled around the tops.

arthur's built up wall of annoyance crumbled before him, and as he opened his mouth in an attempt to at least say something about the noise, the only thing that could leave was a breathless

"oh."

he watched the girl blink for a moment, an apologetic smile forming on her lips, before looking down at her own hand - a dark wooden bow with tightly wound string still in her grasp.

"oh, hi!" she said in return, her voice flustered and softer than he would have expected, "was.. was i too loud? i'm so sorry, i just moved in and i was told the walls were quite thick but, well.. i guess not if you could hear, and i mean, i get kind of carried away when i'm, y'know.." she gestured back into her apartment, a marred blush painting her cheeks as she shifted her weight slightly.

arthur found himself looking at the bow in her hand again, before following towards her hands, her slender fingers cradling it protectively before he managed to pull himself away from this weird captivisation and clear his throat. "no, no, it's.. it's fine," he stammered out, a blatant lie considering he was initially coming here filled with rage enough to snap the bow in half. "i just... i'm arthur, your neighbor on this side," he nodded with his head for a moment, sticking his hand out to shake.

a smile bloomed on her face as she quickly swapped the bow into her other hand, and shook his hand. it was small and warm, arthur thought.

"hi, arthur, i'm y/n! it's lovely to meet you, even if i get the feeling you were coming here 'cause i was being too loud..." she laughed, though slightly nervous, a light and warming sound better than any of the cello he had been hounded with over the past two weeks. "i'll, um, try and keep it down, especially when... well, whatever you were doing," she said sweetly, looking down at his dark green hoodie, a silently asked question in her expression.

he managed to collect himself for a moment, a sheepish smile falling on his face, "right, well.. um, i was filming a video, for youtube, i... yeah, for my channel. gotta be pretty quiet for that, unfortunately.." he said softly, gesturing back to his apartment haphazardly, "but, seriously, it's fine, i should have left a letter through your door or something, rather than storming over here like some lunatic," he joked lightly, feeling rather awkward at his stomping through the hallway now. he had been completely disarmed and he didn't even know how it had happened.

"youtube! that sounds cool," she exclaimed, the enthusiasm in her voice made his cheeks warm a little more, "i mean, i've never watched much on there, besides tutorials, but i have a brother who watches everything on youtube," she giggled a little, the last remnants of her initial fluster disappearing, before her eyebrows creased for a moment,

"actually, if you like we could make, like a schedule? i'd hate to accidentally ruin a video or something.. or even if you'd like, you could just give me a text or something, you know, like 'hey, i'm filming now, put down the bow or i'll slit your throat'," she bit her lip for a moment, looking back up at arthur, "i'd hate to be that neighbor, you know?"

"that's.. that's really thoughtful, and sounds like a good idea," he said, feeling genuinely relieved, "yeah, that would actually be amazing. i film mostly at night, to be honest.. maybe not the best work schedule but that's when the building is usually quieter, less racket... not that your playing is racket, it's beautiful actually, just not great on the mic.." he explained quickly, ruffling his hand through his already dishevelled hair.

"night filming, huh? that almost sounds like you do an entirely different job.. though, i suppose they both call for a webcam," she grinned at her comment for a moment, and she watched his cheeks turn a little red at her crude joke, "sorry, was that a little..?" she trailed off, worriedly, as if worried for offending him.

he laughed back in response, "no, no, you're good... what, you don't think people would pay for that?" he teased back in response.

her laugh rang through again, and the sound was some kind of dazing lull to arthur, like some form of hypnosis he didn't even believe in until now.

"so, the schedule.. maybe easier if we take each others numbers for that? unless you have a talent for morse code on the walls," she said softly, eyes sparkling with amusement.

"yeah, i can pop my number in your phone," he said with a small smile, watching as she pulled her phone from her pocket, a slightly older phone, with a case covered in stickers and the screen with a small crack running through it as she passed it over to arthur, and he tapped his number in, saving himself as "Arthur - Neighbor/Camboy" and watching the grin curl on her face as she read his name in her contacts.

"so, is it professional, the cello? or a hobby? 'cause it really is brilliant, so.." he asked, tilting his head slightly.

"god, i wish professional.. semi-professional i guess is the right word - there isn't much demand for cello really, so i do some work when there is anything available, but i have a day job, just work from home reports and stuff, cause as much as i love it, cello isn't the instrument to pick if you want it to pay the bills," she laughed a little softly, a restrained sort of smile. "i teach some kids, also, and that is so nice to do.. you know, it's no big stage, but watching some of them get a good bowing technique, or a tricky transition note? it's kind of adorable and satisfying. so, i mainly play for myself, i suppose - relaxes me... though, i suppose it also helps me annoy my new neighbors..." she playfully said, and arthur almost felt his heart melt.

"that.. sounds so sweet, honestly. that's intense patience to teach kids, and semi-professional stuff, i mean, it takes a lot to pursue something that you genuinely love when there isn't really an easy path for it," he said, and he felt himself just in awe. when she opened the door, he was shut up quickly by her looks, but hearing how much she had a passion for something had him staring wide eyed like a love-sick puppy.

"yeah, i love it.." she said softly, looking back in her apartment for a moment, "um, if you'd like, to save the chatting in the hallway, you could come in for a cuppa? if you're not busy, that is," she said, inviting smile invading her face.

he looked back at his apartment for a second, and thought of the recording stuff, all set up and waiting for him, then looked back at the girl in front of him, the same wide eyes that greeted him when she first opened the door, and his mind was made up.

"yeah, a cuppa sounds great."

#arthur frederick x reader #arthur frederick #arthur tv #arthurtv #arthurtv fanfic #arthurtv x reader #arthur tv fanfic #arthur tv x reader

123 notes · View notes

pookietv · 2 months ago

Text

me when u guys have spoiled me with requests 🥰🥰

i'm on em and can't wait to write em!!

#beebabbles

2 notes · View notes

pookietv · 2 months ago

Text

lmaooo you're all horny af every single thing i have been sent is smut reqs (i respect the hustle)

i will try work on 'em but honestly i

a) suck at writing smut so bad (reference, go back to the very few smut fics i have written, they are.. not great)

b) i cringe at my own writing of smut so it takes a painstakingly long amt of time to write

i do wanna get better tho so i will try my hardest to lock in :P

IN THE MEANTIME pls pls pls enjoy some jawdropping fics from @ukytblr they all eat so hard and there is so much good smut from so many brilliant authors <3

you wanna send me requests soooo bad.. you wanna ask me to do more part twos to motivate me sooooo bad

10 notes · View notes

pookietv · 2 months ago

Text

you wanna send me requests soooo bad.. you wanna ask me to do more part twos to motivate me sooooo bad

#beebabbles

10 notes · View notes

pookietv · 2 months ago

Text

elderflower | arthur frederick

well,, this is something different! (wait til the end to find out what) ;)

tw: angsty!!!!!

the smell of alcohol and elderflower, strangely enough, hung in the air as you followed becky through the door into a party she had invited you to. you always thought of arthur when you smelled elderflower, he drank so much of the flavoured cordial it ingrained itself in your brain, even after these three years. the silk of your dress hugging at your hips was a strange sort of comfort for walking into the house of people you had barely met.

you met becky two months ago whilst in a coffee shop, watching her spill a drink from a travel cup, smelling the chocolate as it leaked across the floor and you helped her clean it up. she had been sweet to you, and you became friends quickly over scheduled catch ups. she swore you had to meet her friends at some point, teasing you for having your head too far in your work to look up and speak to people - so when a house party was mentioned to her, she instantly texted you and insisted you be her plus one. and it was a friday, 7pm, you had recently finished a case and figured closing paperwork waiting one day was the least of your bosses worries.

law school had been the best and worst times of your life simultaneously. you met arthur there at first, in the old buildings of the university where he sat next to you in a land and law lecture, made a funny quip about you handwriting notes and the rest was a blur for a while. you clicked, silly debates over case studies and late night revision sessions were always with one another, and before long you were dating. you felt happy, he was the sweetest and he was possibly one of the best things in your life. you memorised each other, small twinges of another that only you two could still freshly paint, and he could tell you things about your body you never noticed - a small freckle on your lower back, uneven finger tips, things that felt stupid for you to be able to recall three years onwards.

"come on!" becky grinned, squeezing your arm gently, pulling you forwards, the music thrumming creating the feeling of vibration in the air as she tugged you over to two men - will and mikey.

"this is y/n!" becky introduced you, "my fresh new friend, and i figured may as well baptise her with fire and introduce her to you lot," she teased, and you smiled at the two men, but you couldn't help feeling lost in your thoughts.

"um, yeah, lovely to meet you two!" you tried to shrug off softly, your thumb rubbing lightly against your fingertip as a shitty way of self soothing.

"yeah, lovely to meet you too, not been in london long?" the taller one with a pearl necklace, will, asked.

london. after three years of cramming studies you'd probably never refer to again and enough lukewarm coffee to fill kegs, after graduation, then came real life. law firms weren't flush in durham, or jersey, or anywhere else for that fact. you wanted qualifying work experience, you knew where was the answer. so did arthur. that was all you needed, you thought, eachother and a job. so you went together, a small cramped apartment and two introductory roles into a law career, a new feeling to your relationship, even after being together for two and a half years, the newness of seeing two toothbrushes in the bathroom was a comfort.

at least, for a little bit.

novelties such as coming home to someone you loved wore thin, and became replaced by the churning repetition of leaving the house too early for any conversations, and returning dragged through the machines of a law firm, backreading contracts until stupid o'clock like you and him were playing a stupid game of 'who could return home to their cold side of the bed later?'

the place that you had both clawed to get to felt more like a sick study cage of how quickly a happy relationship could be dissected. gentle arthur who would trace the freckle on your hip turned into a clenched fist over a lost file somewhere in the mess that had become your flat. you were both fraying at the edges: you became quieter, he became sharp. his quick tongue and easy turning mind that was good for pulling apart an argument in court became something that would leave you breathless and wounded after snappy and careless remarks provoked by stress.

the comforts that had came left just as quickly: shared morning coffees or reading side by side at night became terrorised by tense resentments. you yearned for the old arthur, who saw your uneven fingertips as endearing, rather than an imperfection in a world asking for flawlessness.

part of you wished you stopped loving him, but the reality was far bleaker.

the longing for softer arthur felt like a phantom limb, and you felt at some point you needed to face the reality: no matter how much you missed it, it was gone. you left with tears blurring your vision but not yet falling, a glance given to a silent arthur hunched over a laptop at the kitchen table, a small scribbled letter.

'arthur, i love you but this isn't us. even without trying, you're hurting me. it's a symptom of the stress, i'm sure, but even so i can't attempt to gather the fallen apart pieces of how we live right now. please forgive me, the same way i forgive you despite the anger and stress.

all my love, y/n'

walking out of that flat felt like leaving a fated hostage situation, it took everything to leave but there was nothing left to save. through the blur of sofa-hopping from friends and loneliness, london felt like it mocked you at first.

work became sanctuary, grieving the old arthur was dulled by demanding client meetings, final exams and case law, moving into an even more cramped apartment and painting it a soft green, and tried to rebuild.

you still got ambushed, though. seeing books you had caught arthur reading a lifetime ago, light blue skies reminding you of his lucky shirts and the damned elderflower cordial you refused to buy.

and now, stood in this unfamiliar house, you got hit with all this detachment over elderflower, again. mikey's polite questions had faded into the back as you looked around the room, and saw him.

a light brown, half drunk glass in his hand which you could only assume was southern comfort and lemonade, him leaning against a wall in what also looked like he had zoned out from who was talking to him. his face looked thinner, his jaw a slightly sharper angle and stubble-ish facial hair, and the same eyes you had watched go from wide and happy, to slighted and weary. he glanced at you, and you watched a flicker of something raw behind them.

it had been three years. how could he still unravel you after three years? his knee bumping yours in a cramped lecture hall, his fingers running over freckles, your softer life felt closer than it had in so long.

becky was talking now, in her light, animated way, something about a drunken night but it felt like a slight hum in comparison, your eyes flicking to her for a moment before looking back to arthur, and you watched her eyebrows furrow in confusion.

"i.. i used to know him, arthur," you murmur, and you watch her eyes widen at the cadence of your voice. it was obvious, you were sure, watching everything click in her head.

"durham, right," she said, "what, you were friends?" she asked softly.

the only response you could muster being a gulp must have said it all, and before you could even attempt it, arthur was a few feet in front of you. his gaze softer now, a sad kind of plea.

"y/n," he murmured, a shell of the warm baritone you knew.

hearing him say your name felt like the silliest lightning bolt to hit you.

"arthur," you responded quietly, the name feeling foreign. sure, you thought it, but saying it aloud was different.

he paused for a moment, a glance to becky with a awkward smile before his gaze fell straight back on you. "could we speak? there's.. a balcony, just there," he nodded towards the glass doors he had been stood beside previously.

you found yourself following him out before you could question if it was in any way a smart idea. the piercing london air was a smack in the face, and you watched arthur's face fall for a moment, a quick movement to take his hoodie off for you.

"no, i.. i don't want you to, arthur." you said quietly, gesturing to his jumper as he continued to remove it, "arthur.." you tried to continue, but he cut you off, his voice urgent.

"please, take it. i want you to hear me out, i dragged you out here, i don't want you cold," he babbled, almost trying to stuff it in your hands, but all you could do was hold it back out.

"i can't, arthur. please put it back on."

"no, fine. i'll be cold too, that's fine. we can both be cold," he continued to speak quickly, his hands discarding the jumper on the floor, it crumpling quickly. "you leaving, it shattered me. i messed up, terribly. i was so cruel, and selfish, and there's no excuse. the pressure.. it doesn't matter, what i did was unforgivable."

the honesty in his voice made you want to drop down to the floor and crumple like the hoodie. vulnerable, all the feelings that lingered tugged at you, a painful kind of warmth.

"i've changed. i had to, that was the most... the most sobering thing ever. you were... everything, i..." he faltered, his gaze dropping.

your heart ached at his words, the echo of your arthur oh so prominent. you wanted to believe him, desperately.

you choose how this ends.

ending one

ending two

#arthur frederick #arthur frederick x reader #arthur tv #arthurtv #arthurtv fanfic #arthurtv x reader

85 notes · View notes