#and i edited one out bc i CRINGED READING IT ALSKDJF

[femkinkharry]

hey hi um so once again i’m humbled and flattered and so, so thankful for all the new follows! y’all are amazing. <3 so here’s a few lil things i wrote back in 2012 [i think; there’s no date]! i started a 100 prompt thing and never finished it [shock, i know]. (: some are canon compliant, some are au. pairings and word count follow the prompt. nothing has been beta’d. enjoy! o1. moonlight - OT5  134 He burst like moonlight between them, one hand clutching hard into curls, the other leaving shallow cuts along an inked arm. The room dissolves into sighs, impressed and exhausted. Lips are caught, fumbled mutters shared, vague hints at "I love you." Niall barely hears his boys wind down for the blood pounding in his ears, but he can feel them. Feel Liam's soft fingers brush his fringe back. Feel Louis' snuggles, already half-asleep by the sound of his mumbles. Feel Harry's lips curl back as he slicks one last possessive stripe on Niall's jawline. Feel Zayn drape his arm around as many bodies as he can before letting out one last tired yawn. They're content inside their cocoon, bound together by blood, sweat, tears, and love. This is more than they could've dreamt of.

-- o2. beauty - Louis/Harry  201 Beauty is silence.

At least, that's what they've been taught. They aren't allowed to speak unless spoken to; unless they're answering diplomatic questions with tight lips and subtle glares. Jokes aren't taken kindly. Which is why, alone in their room, they let their hands do the talking. With a trail of a finger blossoms a garden; reaching toward the sunlight, their flowers grow, their vines intertwine. With the trail of lips come promises; one day, you and I won't have to build our garden behind stone walls without gates.

They provide signals, wordless "are you okay?"s. Gestures of kindness that commonplace people look over or simply forget. It makes them beautiful.

As they get older, simple touches and kisses aren't enough.

Harry is the first to get a tattoo. The delicate ink makes Louis grin, close to tears as he takes in the overwhelming masterpiece. It's not much, script under the star that Harry's had since the day they met, but what gets Louis is what it says. 'won't stop 'till we surrender'

Beauty is silence. They know that for sure. However, you can say a lot more in silence than you ever can in whispers.

That, they've learned themselves. -- 03. cake - Liam/Niall  137 "Happy birthday, Nialler!" Liam is a right cunt, Niall decides as he looks down at his birthday cake- and quite frankly, he is no artist, either. But it seems as if he's poured all of his artistic talents into decorating the aforementioned birthday cake. Niall actually blushes as he sees the black-icing stick figures and registers exactly what they're doing. They're fucking. On his cake. "Did Louis put you up to this?" Niall asks, side-eyeing his boyfriend. He knows better than to assume that sensible, sweet, caring Liam would do this [actually, that's a lie]. Liam grins back proudly, but his answer comes in dipping his finger into the icing, allowing Niall to clean it. The burn in Liam's eyes makes Niall forget that he was ever anything but chuffed with his birthday cake. And he chuckles. -- o4. art - Zayn/Louis  140 Zayn takes his art completely serious. He's always bent low over his sketchpad, one hand scribbling lines, the other pushing his upper lip between his teeth. Occasionally, he'll snap up, both hands gripping the pad, eyebrows disappearing into his fringe like he's just had a revelation; and he'll produce a stunning work- all stippled lines and smooth, thick brushstrokes. Zayn is an artist, without a doubt. Louis loves watching him, loves being fascinated by the criss-crossing lines and pencil-darkened fingertips. When Zayn gets too into his art, however, Louis becomes distraught. Enough so that he takes a Sharpie that he nicked from the set lads and draws his infamous stick man over Zayn's ZAP! tattoo. It does the job [soon, he and Zayn are breathless, giggling between the sheets in their hotel room], but really, Louis is not an artist. -- o5. action: character takes a drink - Louis/Niall 212 Their eyes are locked across the table, and Louis makes a conscious effort not to pull a face. Niall's hands grasp the shot glass, lips trembling as he tries to hide a laugh. They're far too aware of the other- know each other too well to have to pull faces or encourage through chuckles. "Three..." Louis trails, arm tensing as he pushes himself to wait, head swimming from the first four [or six, or eight] other shots they've downed. "Two," Niall is ready. Maybe his stomach is protesting [he's not used to liquor, let alone the Tequila that seems to be Louis' favourite], but his head is screaming for more and more and more. He's not drunk enough yet, and by the look in Louis' eyes, he's not the only one. "One!" Louis practically yells, glass halfway to his mouth ["Cheater!" Niall screams as the bartender glares at them], downing his shot as if his life depends on it. He clanks the glass back down in front of him in triumph. The liquor burns, but in such a good way that he doesn't really mind the sting of rejection when he leans in to kiss the blonde across the table. They're just two friends out drinking and shit like this happens... ... Right? -- o7. pet - Zayn/Harry  352 "Are you a good boy, Harry?" Zayn asks, fingers lacing into sweet curls. Some days, he still can't believe how amazing he and Harry worked out. But as he watches Harry, on his knees, mewling in a filthy, degrading way, he knows he's the luckiest lad alive. Through a mess of curls, Harry peeks up at Zayn, ass in the air, presenting himself. He meows again, doing his best impression of a real cat. And Zayn almost loses it right then and there, one hand slipping around that sleek, strong neck to scratch at the back of the lovely collar his pet wears. It was a gift from none other than Zayn himself, picked out to perfectly fit against Harry's skin, with a little gold jingle bell. He can still vividly remember the day he gifted it to his sub; the way Harry's eyes lit up as he unwrapped the tissue paper and the tears that fell as he put it on. "Not yet," Zayn breathes, hand tightening around the back of Harry's neck. "Not done- don't wanna..." Harry purrs [actually fucking purrs] in response, nuzzling against the crown of his Master's dick. Zayn feels as if he's going to jump out of his skin as he tries to get a mental grasp on himself. Harry is too gorgeous for words, stretching pliantly and scratching himself behind the ears. The jingle bell jumps to life. "Fuuuck." Zayn knows it's too late, feels himself coil like a spring as Harry disobediently takes another lick at him. There will be punishment later, but all either of them care about at the moment is Zayn's wrecked moan as he comes all over his pet's face. A tentative mewl pushes its way out of Harry as Zayn's thumb smears the thick ropes to where Harry can get a lick. Harry can't help but grin and Zayn thinks that maybe he's going to punch his sub straight in his stupid, perfect face. But he's too tired at the moment, so he pulls his wordlessly animalistic boy up to him and they rest. "Good boy, kit. Good boy." -- o8. action: character must drive a car - Harry/Niall 196 Harry almost [playfully] smacks Niall's hand as the blond reaches for the dial in his Range Rover. The number one rule in Harry's cars is and always has been: do not fucking touch the radio. Niall sees the flick of emerald and grins like the prat he is, "You know I hate your hipster, bourgeois music, Haz." "D'you even know what that means?" "Wha'-?" "Bourgeois." "It's fancy and French for 'you can suck a fuck because your music taste is bollocks,'" Niall answers matter-of-factly, nose wrinkling as he flips the dial over to his iPhone. He scans through his music selection, the annoying clicks all but making Harry drive clear off a bridge, grinning when he apparently finds the perfect song. A heavy bass beat fills the cab and Niall's shit-eating grin gets directed to Harry. And Harry really can't help but laugh, deep and throaty, because this is the exact reason that he loves Niall and proposed they take a road trip. "I love you," Harry murmurs between choruses, reaching over to take Niall's hand on the centre console. "You and your fancy French vocabulary." "Love you, too, Harry. You and your hipster music." -- 1o. music - Liam/Louis  212 There was something to be said about a couple who could be content sharing one another's presence. Louis and Liam didn't know any different, however. The first time they met, they fought over who got to play the piano first. [Liam won, but Louis insisted he let him.] Really, Louis was constantly in awe of Liam's limitless talent. He was ecstatic when Liam made mention of breaking out their keyboard. Quite like a devoted pup, he would perch on the edge of their bed, as close to the speakers as he could get. Occasionally, Liam played something he knew so he could sing along. Harmonising never failed to result in a mess of clothes and a tangle of limbs and the happiest Louis alive. Liam mostly played swing or big band tunes, ones suited to his quiet, tired vocals. He'd have the decency to blush as Louis encouraged him with shining eyes and kisses along his neck. On the very rarest of nights, they sang a duet. Liam always reserved those for long weekends away from the other lads so he could sing to Louis' hipbones and nuzzle into the vibrations in Louis' throat. Louis never complained, though. He was always so, so happy that music never failed to bring them together.