#so when people water it down to like... haha sometimes it feels like my arms arent attached to my body when im really tired

[eveningepiphany]

only would happen to us | H.S oneshot

summary: you and harry just got stuck up on the tower bridge in london and it’s clear sometimes feelings are just too hard to ignore

warnings: smut! bandmate harry, fluff, heights, unplanned confession, making out, trying to hide it from everyone, REALLY CUTE CAR SCENE, tension, fingering, dirty talk, vague reference to choking, protected p in v sec, talk of unprotected sex, frat boy harry just being too hot.

a/n: this is a longer smutshot with a bit of plot, took me MONTHS of coming back and forth from this draft, but it’s so so cute I think you’re gonna love these two!

not heavily edited, may be some typos, just want to post it so bad and its 2am HAHA

———

A deep, almost shaky exhale passes through your lungs and out past your lips. Your own numb hands coming to your waist underneath the thick knitted sweater that hung baggy over your frame, meeting the tight harness fitted over your jeans. It was so cold outside that with each breath out, there was a pale cloud that got puffed out with it. The kind you’d see on a crisp morning while walking to school as a kid, and pretend you were exhaling a long drag of a cigarette.

It’s weird to see something such as the air from deep in your lungs in a way you never normally do. Something that is typically invisible, in the exact right conditions, can be suddenly tangible. The air you exhale always there, regardless of whether you can see it or not. But on a night like tonight it’s no longer able to be ignored.

How one individual might perceive it can be starkly different to another. What is perhaps an annoying reminder of the cold to one person— is a thrilling reminder of their state of aliveness to another.

You believe in the latter. Despite it highlighting how freezing cold you feel, it makes your heart sing. Right now, you’re alive, living in this very moment. Your breath is the very proof that you’re here, experiencing something few other people understand.

The mosaic of London city lights can be seen all around you, reflecting on the swell of water that consumes the far drop below your feet.

Gratitude floats through your mind at the tight harness wrapped around your middle, attaching to the safety line behind you. Otherwise just looking down would make you loose your balance, and that's not a fall you want to experience.

Filming music videos, you’ve learnt, is no joke. Considering you’re 200 feet in the sky above the river Thames on London’s most famous bridge.

“M’pretty sure I’ve just frozen my balls off.” Louis shivers out, earning a snort from Liam who has his hands shoved under his arms— in attempt to warm them up— beside him.

The camera crew have filmed the shots planned, and a few extras for behind the scenes footage, but everything that needed to be taken has now been ticked off, and the rest of the team are beginning to get ready for the band to come back down.

“And here i was just thinking how surreal it is to be up here,” You sigh out with sarcastic whimsy, “Louis sure knows how to put it into words…”

Niall pipes in, “Best view in the whole city and Louis is talking about his junk.”

Everyone up there let’s out a belly laugh at Niall’s quip. It’s an oddly touching moment. Just the six of you feeling like you’re on top of the world, laughing at a joke about Louis dick.

A very fitting theme for a bunch of still-teenagers, you think to yourself. Heartwarming in its own odd way that makes you smile. Eyes flitting from the skyline in front of you back to the band, attempting to take in every small detail that’s painting the wondrous view ahead of you.

You’re glad you went up first, it means you can see all their faces at once when you look to the left. The toothy grins, lit up eyes, and red, wind kissed cheeks.

Especially Harry, who beside you, looks absolutely elated to be up there. The glimmer in his eye's is possessing an emotion in your chest that's admittedly different tonight in comparison to any other.

Maybe it was just your surroundings, but you’re convinced this is the most beautiful he’s ever looked. His brown curls were tousled back from the breeze, lips flushed from the cold. The big khaki jacket cast over his broad shoulders is bundling him up, yet he was still shivering slightly.

Somehow now— even in London's coldest months—his skin still appears tan. Like if you reached out and touched it, it would thrum with the warmth of his blood. A heat you want to settle into with your entire body and soul.

Forcibly, you have to tear your gaze away from him. Reminding yourself that he is your bandmate, and one of your best friends. Not someone for you to be staring at as if there was something to be entertained.

Besides, you’ve spent months gaslighting yourself into the belief it’s simply because you work together so closely. Of course your brain is trying to tell you that there’s something there!

Hell, you’ve heard the horror stories from your girls back home. Problematic shit almost always happens when they fuck around with male colleagues at their jobs. You’ve even said to them, “Is he hot, or is it just because he’s a guy at your work?”

And while your relationship with Harry is arguably a lot more personal than just two colleagues, surely the theory still applies— you’re only so attracted to him because you both work together. That’s it…

Not at all the fact he is definitely the most gorgeous person you’ve ever seen.

Shaking your head— as if the physical movement will stop the internal battle between the voices in your head, you focus your eyes back to the city. Trying to memorise this beautiful sight instead, and commit each red set of break lights, and every yellow glow of someone’s window to the mental picture you’ve taken.

You wish you could know how many people are looking at the Tower bridge right now. If they have any idea that there’s 6 idiots up the top of it. It casts a familiar, deep set of wonder over you.

Are they cooking dinner, watching tv, or staring out at the world just like you? who are they with, why are they with them?

Just the notion that all the people in that city are out there, living a life as shockingly intricate, and beautiful as your own makes your heart clench. It’s a feeling you want to hold forever.

Harry notices from next to you the look on your face. He sees this look often, he knows how deep of a thinker you are. When your lips part in the slightest bit, displaying that sense of earnest shock— and your big eyes search the scene in front of them as if it might disappear on the very next blink.

You do it at airports, in every new city you visit, and onstage too— you do it almost everywhere, come to think of it.

His own mouth slants into a warm smile, even Niall has glanced over and shared a quiet chuckle at your ability to just slip into your mind every time something unreal happens to the six of you.

“Alright— we’re gonna get you guys down one by one!” A crew member's call pulls you out of your trance. Harry is almost sad to see the captivation on your face get snapped away in an instant, making him divert his attention away from you so he doesn’t get caught staring.

Given that you were the first of them to go up, you’d be the last to be lowered down. Zayn however was the last to go up, and arguably the hardest of everyone to convince to get up here.

Despite looking like he could conquer anything, and any challenge, he is scared easily of new things. Like going on a plane for the first time, or being lifted to the top of tower bridge and held by only a harness.

“Thank god—“ he sighs a chuckle, running an anxious hand through his hair as he slowly starts to shuffle along the narrow edge you’re all standing on.

“People pay good money t'do stuff like this, is the real kicker.” Liam nudges him, earning a playful eye roll from Zayn at his dig.

“Don’ get me wrong, s’beautiful, but im out of here. Back to solid ground where I belong.” He points to the mechanism that will lower him back down to the platform underneath where the crew is, hand then coming back to cling to the X shaped beams behind you all.

From what you were all told, it’s actually for maintenance… a large steel cage of sorts. One that’s clunky on the way up and down, and can’t carry more than two bodies a time— at best.

You hear the sigh of relief Zayn lets out as he steps onto the solid metal— sliding the carabiner out of the cable holding you all to the bridge. Waving a hand down to the crew to lower the lift, shouting down to them, “good to go, thank you lads!”

Once it’s back up, Liam goes down next, smiling pridefully as he gets onto the platform. Everyone knows this is a night you’ll all never forget.

Next is Louis, who does a salute to you all, “see you all on the other side,” leaving with a wink as he unclips himself once he’s in the cage.

Niall cleared his throat to shout, “Goodnight London, I bloody love ya!”

However, this is where things start to go awry. Because the platform doesn’t come back up as you and Harry had both been anticipating… causing you to both share a confused look as the final two up on the bridge.

“What the fuck…?” The two of you hear a worker cuss in annoyance, clear to you a slight commotion is going on below. It’s a very faint murmur of concerned, and also annoyed voices, that you’re straining to hear over the wind.

But suddenly Niall can be heard, loud and clear. Whatever it is can’t be that serious, because Niall is giggling? You and Harry both are leaning your heads to try and hear properly. Eventually he sounds like he’s having a full laughing fit, followed by a loud bellow of his amused tone that echoes all the way up to the two of you, “…So they’re stuck up there?”

Your heads snap to one another, locking eyes as you realise why the platform hasn’t come back up yet. Your cold hand comes over your mouth in shock trying to cover up your dropped jaw, warm breath ghosting over the red tips of your fingers.

“Fuckin— there’s no way…” Harry frowns, shaking his head, “He has to be tryin’ t’pull one over on us.”

"Gave the team 10 bucks t'act like its broken..." He murmurs to himself, pursing his lips as his head shakes in disbelief.

A part of you wishes that was the case, but your gut is telling you that its not. That sensation confirmed when your phone starts ringing in your back pocket.

Carefully, you pull it out of your pocket and glance to the screen, gesturing it over to Harry. Georgie, a part of your management team was calling you. He was a short, wiry red-haired man in his late thirties, who had a really lovely husband that would bake the band cookies with their son, Thomas.

With a sigh, you answer the call— putting it on speaker and shuffling closer to Harry so he can hear what he says.

Shoulder to shoulder, he leans his head down to listen, curls brushing the top of your head.

“Hello?” You say as you hear shuffling behind the phone, biting your bottom lip with your teeth as you wait for Georgie to actually talk to you.

Finally you hear him clear his throat with a short apology, “Okay— Y/N, Harry?”

He asks this as if it weren't abundantly obvious you were the only two people up there for him to be speaking to. It makes Harry palm his forward with a slight roll of his green eyes, “Georgie, what’s goin’ on?”

Annoyed look good on him, you thought. The way his brows pinched together and his lips formed a harsh line, jaw clenching tightly.

“Don’t panic but—“

“Oh, fucks sake, we’re gonna die up here, aren’t we?” You immediately interrupted, free hand coming up to your mouth as you take the nail of your thumb between your teeth.

“No, No!” He repeats, and you know he’s down there tapping his foot on the ground like he always does in conversations.

He’s either genuinely confident, or doing a really good job at faking it as he states, “All is well— just a minor inconvenience, is all…”

Harry and you say nothing though, waiting for him to fill the silence with an explanation of what exactly is happening down there.

“The cage lift has… uh,” his tone falters as he tries to find a way to explain the situation, “It’s had a bit of an issue. It’s not going up— we’ve got people on the way to fix it, so don’t worry.”

“They think it’s a combination of the cold night and the fact it’s not been used in a few weeks… but I promise we’re doing everything we can to get you guys down.”

Niall and Louis can be heard laughing in the back, and you feel at ease knowing the bridge isn’t about to collapse under your feet. You’re safe, just stuck up there for a little longer than planned.

“Wait till the media gets a hold of this,” Harry shakes his head, but a tiny relieved smile cracks now he also knows what’s going on— and likely at the boys cackling through the line.

“For now, just hold tight. I know it’s cold but atleast there’s two of you up there—“ you both shoot each other a confused look, “And I’ll call you when the blokes with their big tools are here to fix the lift and send it up…”

“Right… so in the meantime we just stay up here. On the top of a 200ft ledge?” You clarify, stupefied at the situation you've landed yourself in.

“Uhm, yep… I’ll call you guys back when I know more.” He replied curtly, before bidding a quick goodbye and hanging up.

Given the height you’re situated at, you don’t waste any time tucking your phone safely back into the pocket of your jeans. Glancing over to Harry who is smiling out at the city, “At least you’ve got a bit more time to try and memorise all this, hey?”

“Or we’re living our last hours up here before we die of hypothermia…”

A chuckle comes from him, where he nudges your shoulder with his, “C’mon Y/N, I think they’d airlift us off the bridge before it came to that point.”

"Now that would be a news story about us," you slant your gaze to him, his hands stuffed into the pocket of his jacket, “And that's at least true, I'm just being dramatic considering the situation.”

His lips curve into a smile, shaking his head with amusement, “We’re gonna get the biggest I told you so from Zayn.”

The wind blows your hair in all directions as it randomly pushes a strong gust against you, making you reach up to try and tame it back down.

“Whose fucking idea was it to leave my hair down,” you complain, despite it actually being your own. Harrys own hand comes to try and brush it out of your squinted eyes, quietly humming, “y’shivering, love.”

The way he is so gently pushing the hair from your face, paired with the hushed pet name makes you look up to him, “And so are you…”

Internally, you are cursing. Cursing right now whatever greater force has planted your ass in this set of circumstances. Stuck up here, in arguably the most romantic spot you could be put into. Together. Right at the time the resolve you've tried so hard to maintain that Harry is 'just a friend', is starting to crash and burn.

“C’mere.” He says, the lilt in his accent is deep from the crisp air, casually wrapping an arm around your middle, pulling you towards him. Just the action alone makes your whole body heat up, and your praying your cheeks are already red enough to hide the blush that's creeping hot up your neck…

Your cheek meets his shoulder, nose bumping his collarbone as he tucks you in the space between his arm and his side, the hand around your waist splaying over the knit of your sweater. He smells so good, masculine… the scent woodsy, but with an undertone of warm spices. You try not to draw in an obvious inhale against the collar of his shirt.

You adored how close a connection two of you shared, but you also hated it. Hated it because there’s no hesitancy in the way his hand curls around your side and lets your body lean into his. The this is just what friends do mentality. Especially in a situation like this, where the action can simply be justified by that, and that alone. It kills you feeling him like this, warm and gentle against your cold body, and trying to pretend like it isn't currently making your insides squirm.

“If this ledge weren’t so bloody thin, I’d wrap you up with m’jacket.” He admits, looking down at you.

He cant help but unknowingly make it worse for you.

Lips forming a thin line, you try to bite back the smile that's forcing it's way onto your face. The image playing off in your mind no matter how hard you try to wipe it. Stood here, arms slid around his toned middle, meeting together at the small of his back. oh god...

Your own hands have unconsciously braced themselves on the outer edge of his jacket, gripping it for dear life as you try to calm your racing heart.

Eyes veering outwards as you look at the scene in front of you, “it’s okay... its cold, but at least its beautiful.”

His own eyes are trailing the profile of your face, heart thrumming underneath his chest as an almost welcome heat spreads through him. He’s made a mistake pulling you into him, he should’ve known he’d bitten off more than he could chew. That he’d want more, to feel more of you than he already is.

When suddenly nothing is more appealing than leaning down and nudging your nose with his, to let your head tilt for him, so he can press a warm kiss against your mouth.

“So beautiful,” he quietly parrots, but he’s not thinking about the view.

Forcing his eyes away from you, he clears his throat carefully. A tiny chuckle escaping in the silence that had enveloped the two of you as you stared out at the city.

“Only this would happen to us.” He suddenly says, and you feel him draw in a deep inhale. Confused in what context he means it, you turn your head to look up at him with a puzzled smile, “What do you mean?”

“I can almost bet a thousand bucks we are probably the first and only people t'ever have this happen t'them. Somehow I find it fitting.”

“Pretty special... if you think of it like that.” You mutter, nodding slowly.

“No one can even see us, and there's a whole city out there—“ he gestures out with his finger, “that doesn’t know we’re up here.”

A morbid laugh bubbles from your throat, "I know were not gonna die up here, but if we were, I can't really imagine what the last thing I would want to do would be." You feel his chest rumble with a chuckle, and he's shaking his head at you.

His voice is completely normal as he ponders the thought, "Well... we’re kind of limited with what we can do because of these." His hand finds the hem of his white t-shirt, peeling the material above his belly button. It's intention to gesture to the harness flush around his middle. Your eyes however... they veer to the tan skin of his stomach, and the dark tattooed ferns that adorn his hips and bracket the dusting of hair that trails up from the band of his Calvin Klein briefs. Only graced with the sight for a few fleeting seconds before it disappears behind the white fabric once again.

You almost about choke on nothing. Having to force your throat to swallow before a bout of laughter rattles out of you without you able to stop it, "The harnesses?'

Your obviously answered question makes his brows furrow, and mouth quirk into a confused sort of smile. It only makes you laugh more, hand coming up to scrape down your face as a desperate attempt to ground your brain.

But, fuck— what he just said, you're banking it was an entirely innocent comment, and that's exactly what is causing the confusion at your disheveled reaction. But he quite literally doesn't realise what insinuation you thought he was making. And that you are imagining all kinds of depraved scenes without ability to stop.

A parallel of you only a minute earlier, he begins, "What do you—"

The pang of realisation hits him.

"...oh."

His words die where they were in his voice box, stomach churning the second he clocks onto your almost guilty laugh. The sound drips with warmth as it enters his ears.

He rolls his eyes, but suddenly his cheeks feel hot as a blush spreads across them no matter how hard he tries to will it away, "That is not what I meant! Of course you would think that."

Your jaw drops in feigned offense, knocking your elbow against the side of his ribs, "What are you trying to say about me?"

You've taken a small step back from him, hand coming to your chest as a mimic of your fake shock. You know how dangerous this is getting, and quickly at that. Breaching into uncharted territory.

"That your head is stuck in the gutter." He mumbles, blinking fast as he avoids meeting eyes with you as if you'd be able to simply see the thoughts plagued in his head now.

"It is not, you're the one that worded it weird!" You tease, arms crossing. It is truly like the rest of the world has fallen away, and like you are the only two people alive right now.

"Is so," he argues passionately back, "So far in the gutter, in fact, tell pennywise i say hi."

You burst out with a laugh, trying to tuck your cold hands between your upper arm and ribcage, "Gross, Harry. I fucking hate clowns."

"And mind you, I said nothing! You came to this conclusion on your own."

"Okay Y/N, What conclusion is it tha’ I'm coming to, if y'would be so gracious to enlighten me." Checkmate.

He's smiling now, you are red, embarrassed or worked up, or perhaps a heated mixture of both.

The ball is back in your court, and you struggle to get your mouth to move properly, "I— You cant— Don't turn this back on me!"

Suddenly, he tumbles his own inner thoughts out of his lips before he can halt them, they sound with a rasp, "Darling, you're the one having deluded n’dirty thoughts 200ft up n'the sky."

God. Does this count as foreplay to the mile high club? And fucking hell, his voice sounds too deep right now. The way his thick accent rolls the words out. Its making your head hurt.

Your earlier resolve is officially gone. It's thrown itself off the ledge of this bridge and is falling the very far drop to the bottom. And you know what, pretty sure your self respect is going with it. Between the two of them, it will be loud enough to probably hear the impact they make when they hit the water at full force.

"Probably the first person to be doing that up here, too." The words are gritted out of you as your heart pounds in your chest.

You hear the inhale he takes, deep— as if he's trying to ground himself, hold back whatever is transpiring right here, right now.

"Do have even half the idea of how badly I want t'kiss you right now?"

Your head snaps from where it was, tearing your eyes from where they'd locked onto the city skyline in attempt to distract yourself from the trouble you're about to get into. A part of you deep down realises how bad this could get quickly, how absolutely irreversible this conversation is.

And that regardless if something or nothing comes of it, you are never going to function the same. Laying in bed staring at the celling you'll see his face, next time you're on stage you'll feel your stomach drop when he looks at you, when you're in a room with him you'll cease to be able to function.

His green eyes have literally pinned you where you stand, wind toying with your hair as your lips are parted in shock.

"You don't mean that..." you stare at him, shaking your head slowly. Trying to back out of this, attempting to give him a moment to throw the blanket back over what he was uncovering.

He frowns, almost offended, as if doubting him is the worst thing there is in the world. Taking a brief step forward to fully face you, "Y/N, I would have you backed up against these beams if I wasn't literally restrained from doing so."

"What— Harry, what about—" At this rate, you're mustering up any excuse to rationalise what is happening right now, "I'm pretty sure there's strict rules against this in our contracts— you know?"

"Fuck the contracts." He immediately replies, disregarding that as a point entirely. His hand coming up to brush the brown curls that have been blown in front of his intense gaze, "Could care less 'bout them, not like we haven't broken a million other things in them."

True. You can think of several things between you and the band. You're still employed, if that says anything.

"The things I would do to you if I knew no one would interrupt" He takes another step closer to you, close enough you can reach out and touch him, "then well see about me not meaning any of this."

His voice, the absoluteness in his tone makes your head spin. Resolve slipping, cracking, completely dissipating from where it was being grappled in your palms two seconds prior to this conversation starting.

You feel like you're floating outside of your own body as your hands find the bottom of his white shirt, lifting it until you can wrap your fingers around the black harness taut around his middle. Slowly, you pull it until he is forced to step closer to you.

His heart stutters at the action... it's arguably the hottest thing a girl has ever done to him— beating a tug of belt loops or a belt by a mile. This was personal.

"This is still a problem, as you said earlier." You drawl quietly. Tone void of any indicative of emotion, the only thing he gets any intel from being the blush that's deepened on your cheeks.

There's a few ticks of silence when his chin dips to follow the action that's led your cold hands underneath his shirt, the way he stares the only point of physical contact between the two of you. But god, when your stare flickers up to him and he meets it with his own— his stomach jolts. Eyes squeezing shut as his forehead drops down, hesitating before pressing ever so slightly against your own, "Y'are too much, love."

His hands sliding up to meet your jaw, your low voice echoes out a plea, "Well, it would be a waste if we didn't."

Referring to the kiss of course, it does feel like it would be a missed opportunity to surpass right now. As, in all fairness you'll never be able to have a first kiss with Harry in a more memorable place. So even if the idea is stupid, It could be justified by that alone...

You feel his chest rumble with a deep chuckle, his lips pulling into a smile, "We'd regret it... if we didn't."

"We’d always wonder.” You nod, tone bearing on certainty as the two of you knowingly come to the biggest reach of a justification you could.

His fingers coil around your jawline, and you can feel his warm breath gently panning across your skin. It makes your eyes flutter closed, feeling his thumb ghost over your bottom lip. Eliciting a shudder that runs straight up your spine, making him smile with pride.

Tipping your chin up, he brushes his mouth over the corner of your lips. Catching them just slightly, “I’d always be thinking about what your mouth would feel like against mine,”

“And then you’d just end up kissing me anyway,” you chuckle quietly, “just in a probably less cool place.”

“Mhmm,” the low hum of agreement rumbles from his throat as finally he bears his mouth down against your own. The press of warm lips against yours making your whole body sing.

Cold was no longer a feeling in you, there was only a hot tingling sensation that’s shot through your limbs as his mouth lingers in hesitation for a moment before moving to kiss lightly against the fullness of your bottom lip.

He nearly groans when you regain enough control over yourself to actively kiss him back, leaning into his touch.

The excitement spreads through you both like wildfire— you’re kissing each other on the top of a world famous bridge. Cars below, and mentionably the crew members also underneath, have no idea. No idea the fact your hands are skating up his white shirt further until you’re palming the hard slabs of muscle over his abdomen. Not even a clue that one of his hands has taking sanctuary on your hip bone, tugging your body into his.

Your mouths work against each other, tongues suddenly getting involved when he squeezes a hand along your ribs making your lips part. His warm tongue gliding into your mouth just enough for you to taste him slightly.

“Harry,” his name is whined against his mouth, nails clawing over the skin of his chest.

“Fuck—“ he bites out, tongue lulling against your bottom lip, greedily trying to taste more of you.

The action alone is enough to make your knees nearly give out, “I need—“

Your desperate words are cut off, the sound of your phone ringing bringing you both to an instant halt.

There’s a shared look, both taking in what you’ve done to one another. Left standing here with eyes half lidded and lips swollen— looking entirely, wholeheartedly, fucked.

A tortured sigh comes from you as he promptly leans back down and kisses your mouth. If it had anything to do with you, you'd let the call ring out just to have more of this. He is more sensible than that, clearly. As his hand comes to the back pocket of your jeans, sliding your buzzing phone out into his palm.

Wanting to whine when he pulls away, a part of you is battling all your logic and is begging to stay up here with him. For how long? You don’t care, forever as far as you’re concerned. Fighting the urge to just grab your phone and throw it off the ledge, purely so his hands can busy themselves on your skin again.

Harry clears his throat before tapping the accept button, hoping to god he can muster a normal sounding voice.

Georgie’s voice comes through first, less shuffling on his end of the phone this time— indicating some higher level of organisation in comparison to earlier, you assume.

“Harry, Y/N! Platforms on its way up you two, everything okay?”

“Yep, Georgie,” he nods, pursing his lips as his eyes find your to pin you with a stare, “things are good.”

A small laugh and he replies, “Well— I can’t really tell if you’re bein’ sarcastic but I’ll take it.”

“Anyway, once it’s up there we’ve been told strictly to keep it one at a time to come down just to be on the safe side so it doesn’t malfunction again.”

“Very reassuring…” Harry drawls with slight grimace, glancing over to where the metal cage is rising up.

“Don’t be so pessimistic,” he scolds playfully over the speakers, making Harry roll his eyes— but a playful smile falls on his lips.

“See you soon, thanks for saving us Georgie, I owe ya one.”

You finally lean towards the phone, “I second this, thank you.”

“Not a worry, didn’t want that much paperwork on a Friday night.” He teases, before ending the call with a quick ‘see you soon.’

Harry’s eyes return to you. Your lips part and draw in a hushed gasp as he leans back into your space. Hands slowly sliding around your middle. Making that same breath catch in the middle of your throat as he pulls you in, slowly, almost sensually as his eyes drop to your lips.

He lingers against you, a tease, you already know it.

Proving you right, he deposits your phone back safely into your back pocket, applying a few gentle taps to the swell of your ass as he leans back again.

"H." is all you can say, and at this point it comes from you as almost a whine. But it saying exactly what you want without having to even tell him.

A grin is plastered on his handsome face at the blush that’s already torn its way back through you. His bashful smirk mirroring that of two teenagers that have sneaked a kiss before going back to their friends or family.

Which is exactly what he does, struggling not to smile against your mouth as he presses warmly, firmly against you. Giving you exactly what you wanted.

Allowing you both as much time as reasonably possible to soak in the feeling before he starts to pull away, your body almost instinctually following his movement— leaning further, pecking against his mouth until he steadies your shoulders with his hands.

A soft chuckle breathily escaped him, heart nearly melting inside his chest as your wide, wild eyes stare up at him. A tiny, smile on your own mouth now, one he reaches up to thumb delicately over.

The touch is earnest and makes you nearly sink into yourself— or better yet, sink into him.

A light hum of pleasure, and then he pulls away, turning to start walking along the ledge.

Carefully, you both shuffle to where the platform is now fully stationary. As he takes a step onto it, feet planting solidly onto the metal, you see a sense of relief on his face. Hands working to unbuckle the carabiner, and his eyes flitting back to yours.

You’re staring at his hands… the way they seamlessly open the clasp. You’ve always been drawn to them, the firm tendons that run into his fingers. He catches you doing this, and whether or not he knows you’re ogling the stature of his hands, the smirk on his face is all consuming.

You roll your eyes bashfully at him, pursing your lips and crossing your arms all in an attempt to be normal about this. But struggling to come across to him as unaffected by this whole ordeal.

He is having none of it.

“M’not done with you, love. Not even close.”

And that’s the last thing he said before the platform started the trip back down. Suddenly you are alone up here once again. The moment of solitude very sobering in a situation as such.

Unbelievable to consider that if you told yourself two hours ago that by the end of the night, you had made out with Harry up here, you would’ve believed sooner that you were having hallucinations than actually thought it were true.

Your brain is going over it and over it, like a flashbulb memory, all you can think about is him, and what you’d just done.

“Fuck sakes.” You cursed, hand coming up over your eyes in attempt to quell the thoughts.

It was closest to a face palm. Your palm immediately clapped over your eyes. It’s to no use though, as even behind the darkness of shut and covered eyelids you could still see him, still feel him. The sensation of his fingers softly grazing over the skin of your ribcage, slipped tentatively underneath the knit of your sweater. The heat of his tongue lulling gently into your mouth.

M’not done with you, love. Not even close…

The sound of his voice, even if it’s simply the imagination of it in your own head, it reignited the heat in your stomach— if it ever truly went away— making it churn with heavy desire. Almost worse than earlier, now that you had to stand here and suffer through it stationary.

Dragging your heavy hand up to take place in your hair, you push the loose strands out of your face, and tug at its roots.

With now open eyes, the city stared back at you. Supplying you with a mocking silence. As if to imply, I saw what you just did. Watched you kiss someone you shouldn’t, and not even just once by any means. You went back for more even after it stopped. Got your hands and feelings involved.

You attempted to smooth your hair down, annoyed that your guilt has conjured into the city of London taking over your internal monologue. It was messy as you combed your fingers through it, but whether it was Harry or the wind, you’re hoping that— and the rest of your disheveled appearance— can be attributed to the cold and wind entirely.

Which suddenly, that cold felt so much harsher now Harry was no longer up there with you. Either it was his body heat pressed against you that heated you up, or kissing him had that much of an affect on you. Tragically, you’re ball parking that it’s a torturously attractive combination of them both.

When the platform thankfully returns up, you steal a final glance out at the Thames and London. Definitely a sight you’ll have burned into your mind for the rest of your life.

Stepping onto the platform, you felt equal parts relief and anxiety. God forbid people can sense something is different between you two… and this is not a situation you’ve ever been in before. Who knows your own capacity to hold a convincing lie about something like this.

The second you’re down all the way and the platform meets the ground, you’re greeted with a flurry of workers and people from the crew. All chorusing questions of ‘are you okay?’ to you as if you’d been up there for days without food or water.

Tamara, one of the women on the styling teams, rushed up to you with a thick black coat, shawling it over you and rubbing your shoulders, “here lovie, y'shaking like a leaf you poor thing... this’ll warm you up.”

Her lower lip pouted out in sympathy for you, her dark curls of hair casting over her eyes as she spoke “Gosh, you look so cold, the wind up there must’ve been so chilly… your cheeks are all red— and your hair's all over the place."

At least she was attributing it all to the cold wind, and wasn't immediately aware you'd just snogged with your bandmate up there. Either way the slight shake to your hands was the last of your worries, and your gaze has landed on Harry— but he was already looking at you.

His stare said it all really, the look of we have unfinished business all over his face. The tiny curve to the corner of his mouth that may go unnoticed to everyone else but you. Possibly because you had his tongue in your mouth less than half an hour ago, but still— you pick up on it all the same.

Georgie is fussing over him currently, and Harry takes a second to break the eye contact the two of you held, pausing to let out a breathy laugh as he turns to Georgie, “And surely after all this excitement we get to go back to the hotel room— no more crazy behind the scenes to film?”

Tamara’s ears perk and she overhears him, nodding as she rubs your shoulder, “we’ve already got a car down there to get you back to the hotel."

You thank god for the bridge being closed to traffic, entirely unable to imagine trying to trudge through hordes of tourists and potentially fans just to get back to a car.

Several people escort you and harry down the stairs to where a black car is parked opposite to the exit.

Tamara opens the door for you both, and you share a look before scooting into the backseats. Georgie gets into the front passenger seat, greeting the driver politely. Already clued in on the mishap on the bridge, they waste no time having a relieved laugh about you both getting down in one piece.

The heater is already cranking in the black car, heating your skin. Harry pats the middle seat with his hand, giving you a look. It lingered like an unspoken sentence in the glimmer of his green eyes, and the tiny upwards tilt to the corner of his mouth.

Next to me, it said.

Like it was less question, and more that he needed you next to him more than anything else in the world right now.

And as you’re coming to realise, this look on his face can pretty much get you to do anything. It’s only telling how far that alone could take you. So you silently settle into the middle seat, pulling the seatbelt across yourself. Buckling it in, feeling Harry’s thigh gently press against your own.

There are so many unspoken words floating in the air between you two. Things you want to say, things you want to do, all suspended above you. Making you wonder if Georgie— who is rugged up in the front seat and is apparently accompanying you both on the ride back to the hotel— can sense it too.

However, he seems oblivious despite your expectation for him to be the opposite. He pays no additional mind to you both, other her than the slight dart of his eyes to your body taking up the middle seat instead of the window seat behind him.

Your teeth are working over the skin on the corner of your lower lip as you’re driving back towards central London. Delmar, the driver whose name you’ve overheard in passing as Georgie and him acquainted, is weaving back into the thick of the cities traffic as you’re off the closed bridge.

Harry’s eyes are cast outside the window, but his hands are deciding to play a dangerous game. Simply at the fact he cannot help himself. He’s aware that Georgie is distracted, and is taking the opportunity to innocently flex his knuckles against your knee. Breaching the gap from where his hand rests atop his own. The warm city lights are cutting a deep shadow across his jaw, outlining the smirk on his side profile.

It conveys his need to touch you, that your body filling up the space next to him is not enough. Although you have to hold back an exasperated sigh at his actions, and how he is only making this worse for you, you end up sliding your hand down your thigh, slowly and carefully.

It's likely that you're just as bad as him, because you brush your hand against his— Nothing but your pinky stretched out, grazing his. Both of your eyes shifting upwards to lock with each other, then back to Georgie. A silent acknowledgment at how careful the two of you have to be right now.

Slowly, you link your pinky around his own, catching his ring finger too as he curls them against you. The delicate touch is somehow a head-spinning mix of sincere and beautiful, but also so insanely attractive.

He's smiling, a wide grin that his free hand attempts to cover as his elbow rests on the car door. Covering the dimples you wanted to take in, allowing you only the sight of slightly crinkled eyes from how hard he's smiling underneath the palm of his hand. To put it simply, right now he looks like an art piece. His chocolate curls over his forehead, and the smile on his face you know that you're the cause of. Hands brushing together, hidden between the both of you— all in the back of a car, trying to hide it like true teenagers.

It's sudden when you realise you are in the exact same state, struggling to disguise the curve of your mouth from not only Harry, but the other two people in the vehicle. Trying to press your lips together as he plays with your fingers. Hands soft and warm against yours, your eyes casting down to where they're joint together between the two of your knees. Just barely. Small enough a move to ensure you're the only two that know about it, but also enough to make your stomach churn with need.

I want his mouth on mine again, your brain chimes.

Before your brain can send you spiraling back into the memory of you two kissing, the sound of your name from the front seat cuts through it.

"Y/N, You were up there, tell Delmar what it was like!"

Snapping your gaze back to Georgie, he serves a unintentional reality check for you.

"Oh, uhm—" Shaking your head as if to clear your thoughts, you endeavor to form a coherent sentence. Harry's hand gently, and as discretely as possible, slides out of yours, taking its place back on his own thigh. If you were to look, you'd see that the smile on his face has somehow gotten wider, as if the aspect of being nearly caught out in the backseat of the car is the most amusing thing in the world.

Amplified by him listening to you stumble over your words, that too is endearingly hilarious. A true gentlemen.

However, you're now unable to find the words for what happened up there that don't relate to having someone kissing you over and over again.

"Well, you can imagine it was beautiful," A tiny, pained chuckle comes out of you, "London is... massive— from up there, y'know?"

God. You sound like such an idiot, you already know that.

The driver laughs and nods at your attempt to tell the story, voice warm and sincere as he replies, "Some things can be hard to put into words, I understand."

You take a moment to realign your thoughts, come up with anything better than 'London is... massive'.

Finally smiling back at him, you draw in a breath, trying to articulate the feeling prior to getting distracted up there with your bandmates mouth, "Well, the city lights are kind of like a warm sky of stars... Hard to believe that there's so many people in London when you look at it from that high up."

He hums at your much better description of the sight, and of course— just as anyone would, he curiously asks a few more questions.

Such as 'how long were you up there? were you scared?' All of which Georgie unfortunately does not swoop in on to steer the conversation again, as he too wants to hear the experience from you.

Delmar does eventually cast his attention to Harry's broad frame in the rear view mirror, quizzing him on his own outlook on the event, making you thankful to have a second to breath and not be skirting around the fact you made out with the person sitting currently right next to you.

He handles the questions with tragic ease— or at the very least it comes off that way— but you can hear how he is still trying not to laugh. And the way he's knocking your thigh with his every chance he gets when the eyes in the front of the car aren't on either of you.

The streets and the traffic within them get busier as the hotel the band is staying at draws close. Delmar weaving into the back lot so you can both get inside discreetly, not forgetting to thank you for the pleasurable chat. His kind words you both smile, and Harry isn't shy to also gives his gracious appreciation, "Drive was a dream, thank you mate, 'ave a lovely rest of your night."

His hand comes to open the car door, allowing him to slide out— But once he's standing, he gestured out his palm for you to take as your feet come to the asphalt below. The smirk on his face as you take it is enough to make you roll your eyes, trying to downplay the effect it has on you.

He leans discretely down to your ear, speaking only loud enough for you both to hear, "I know I will."

A wink to you, and it feels like your knees are going to give out simply where you stand. He gives it a squeeze before breaking off to shut the car door, and walk over to where Georgie is standing.

“Tamara told me they’ve got hot chocolates prepared in the foyer for you two.” Georgie informs you both, typing quickly back to Tamara on his phone before leading you both in through the back entrance of the hotel. Harry’s hands are tucked into the pockets of his jacket as you walk beside him, likely to stop himself from caving and trying to grab your hand or arm in his as you walk behind Georgie.

The air is contrastingly cold compared to the warm car, which brings another bout of relief when you to get back into the heated hotel lobby.

Surely enough, a short, older lady comes out from a kitchen area upon you all entering. Promptly walking up to Georgie with a tray with 3 large cups filled with the sweet beverage. He gasps in excitement as she approaches, remarking sweetly that "Tam even got me one, what a sweetheart!"

"Bet thats the real reason y'came back with us." Harry teases, then nods in greeting to the lady holding the tray of drinks, "Thanks for these, love."

Even she looks up at him with a big grin. Reminding you of the way the elderly ladies talked about the boys when you were filming earlier for this music video. Harry— and all the others— just have that charm about them. Clearly it lacks a generational age limit. And you know what, you cant even blame her. She gets it.

"Not a worry darling's, buzz us if you all need anything else,” You give her a smile as she reaches to pat your arm, “it should warm everyone up.”

“Thank you so much.” You affirm as you clasp the hot cup from the tray.

Heading towards the posh elevator, Georgie presses the up button and is talking to Harry about tomorrow, how he has a fitting for a suit. Something about an awards show. You're struggling to pay attention, as you know all three of you are headed to the same floor. Not only does Georgie have to think you're going back to your respective rooms for the night, but if any of the other boys waited up for you two, there is no way you're going to get to be alone tonight.

Harry is busy entertaining Georgie's itinerary as you step into the elevator, his hand reaching for the '32' button on the control panel. The descent up each floor feels like it drags on forever, anticipation for how this is going to play out genuinely killing you.

When the large silver doors open to the 32nd floor, all of you walk out in tandem onto the tiled hallway. Your rooms are all pooled together at the start of the hall, meaning there’s hardly any further to walk once you’re out of the elevator.

Your own keycard for your room is in your phone case, so you reach to pop the case off and slide it out as you come to a stop outside the large white doors of your room.

"Well," You clear your throat, eyes darting between Harry and Georgie, "Glad we all survived that ordeal, I’ll see you all bright and early tomorrow."

A small buzz sounds from the sensor as you hold the card over it, a small green light flashing.

“Mhm, tomorrow.” Harry affirms casually, casting a sly nod your way from where he stands on the opposite side of the hallway. Standing outside his own room, fishing out a keycard from deep in the pocket of his jeans.

Georgie, who is happily and unknowingly pushing open his own door, chuckles at your comment, "Definitely glad, see you two in the morning."

With a small smile, he makes sure to squeeze in a a final reminder to Harry, "H, half ten tomorrow, don't forget."

The two of you have both slid inside your respective hotel rooms as Harry laughs quietly, replying to him, "Wouldn't dare."

Waiting, your free hand clutches the door. Admiring his face in the warm glow of the hall lights, and the way he keeps his eyes trained on the room Georgie was disappearing into. As you watch, you’re taking a sip of your hot chocolate when his gaze finally darts to yours as the click of a door sounds up the hall.

Now you’re just looking at each other, tension in the air thick and warm. He’s smiling as he mimics your behaviour, taking a leisurely drink from his own cup without breaking eye contact.

Given the few seconds of silence, you are certain that no one is going to disturb you, and a sense of relief washes over you. Finally. Other than the pounding of your heart in your chest, everything around you is quiet. You peak your head around the smooth rim of the doorframe, all the doors were shut, and the rooms were hushed.

By some grace of god, not only has one of your managers gone to bed without any hunch as to what’s going on, but the rest of your bandmates too. And it really is just the two of you.

Harry’s gaze is burning into with an equal grin when you look back to him. Revelling in the privilege he feels watching you step quietly back into the hall, turning your body to very gingerly tug your door closed again.

You cannot be closing the gap between you both fast enough, you’re practically running across the hall, shoes lightly clacking against the tiles to reach him before this perfect opportunity could be interrupted by a single soul. Pursing your lips as you step across the threshold of his door and the hallway, forcing back a laugh that’s bubbling in your chest at the situation.

Not wasting a second more, you invade his space. Leaning into the curve of his body where his arm is braced against the door he’s holding open.

“Hi…” Your hand reaches up to meet the back of his neck, where it cranes to look down to meet your eyes.

“Hey, baby,” he rasps, eyes fluttering as he takes you in. The black of his pupils have blown out over the mosaic of emerald green surrounding them, dilated in what can only be described as sheer anticipation. Conveying the want and need he feels without having to speak more than a word. That alone is something you can’t handle for half a moment longer, because suddenly your hand sinks into the soft curls at his nape, and you’re pulling to tug his head further down. Moulding your lips together in a single, rushed movement.

There’s no words that can do justice the feeling that explodes in your chest. Little buds of heat bloom and flower in there faster than you can keep up with, kicking your lungs into a pant as his tongue can’t help but get involved immediately— lulling over the fullness of your bottom lip. The firm press of a single kiss had promptly melted into a plethora, one after the other as your lips show no mercy against one another.

You have to physically focus to keep the cup from slipping from your grip. A nearly impossible feat when his tongue is invading the gap between your top and bottom lip, gliding into your mouth with a hum from his throat at the taste of you. Warm and chocolatey, a flavour he wants to sink in.

Harry too tastes of the warm drink, a sweet contrast to earlier— when your tongue tingled from the spearmint on his breath. Your body leans into his. More, more, more, your brain is practically begging. Naturally it causes him to stumble back as your chest is arching to press against his own. The softness of your body makes him want to groan, and his hand almost instinctually leaves its hold on the doorframe to meet the dip of your waist. Supporting your stature as he pulls you to follow each step back he takes.

With a loud slam, the door falls shut, eliciting a slight flinch and laugh from you both. Like you didn’t expect it. As if natural consequences don’t exist right now, and the world around you is falling away with every press of lips against skin. There is no actions causing reactions, except the ones happening solely between the two of your bodies.

“Oh god—“ You sputter a strained laugh, hand stroking along his jawline as your eyes dart to the now shut door. It’s thrown the room into darkness, except for the faint glow London’s city lights have provide from his window on the opposite side of the room. “So much for being discrete… and quiet.”

This lighting bought the sharp shadows back onto his face, but this time you can finally touch them— revel in them.

“You’ll be more worried about quiet later, darling.” His voice comes low against your cheek, hand on your hip. Guiding you backward until the small of your back meets the cool countertop of the kitchenette.

His words bring that familiar, pleasure-filled roll into your stomach. Drawing out a tiny whine from your throat as he smirks against your flushed skin. Placing a peck against your cheekbone, he lingers for a few seconds. Letting the warmth of his lips burn a mark into the very nerves they touch, before pulling back to take a swig of the hot chocolate between his hands. Using his free one to now guide your own cup towards your mouth.

As your big eyes look up to him, he breaks his lips from the lid to speak, “drink s’more, it’ll be a cold chocolate by the time we come back to it.”

Chuckling around the edge of the cup, you press your mouth to it and let the sweet and warm liquid trail down your throat. He watches intently, the way you swallow it down— knuckles coming to run from the base of your throat upwards, tracing along the hook of your jaw.

He has to stifle a groan at the sight of you, the way your throat bobs with your red cheeks and messy hair. It translates instead through the clench of his jaw, and fluttering shut of his green eyes. The expression makes your stomach flip, not only warm from the hot chocolate, but from the arousal that’s sparking heat in every part of your body it can tangibly reach.

“Fuck— H,” you say, turning to push the takeaway cup on the counter behind you, “You’re so fucking beautiful, look at you.”

Finally, that groan escapes him simply at your words. Furthering into something more as now both of your hands run up his white shirt. No longer stopped by the barrier of a body harness, you skate along the taut, firm muscles of his abdomen in one long stroke.

“Fuckin’ Hell…” he curses, eyes darting down to meet where your hands have slid up his shirt— again, for the second time tonight.

It’s a much more heated parallel of earlier, one he takes no hesitancy to act on. Leaning into your touch, he turns briefly to place his cup adjacent to yours on the bench top. Feeling your nails scratch along his abs, he is quick to move so he’s facing you again, planting his lips back on your own and reigniting the fiery kiss.

With two free hands now, he runs them up your hips, firmly pulling you against him as he walks you away from the kitchenette. Your feet stumble along with his long strides, brain struggling to pay attention to anything other than the drag of his hot kiss against you.

It’s clear all resolve is lost to you both, and when the backs of your knees hit the edge of the cool comforter… “Im gonna wreck you, love… if you’ll let me.” The depraved words are whispered against your lips.

His body presses you down, you have to sit now, thighs meeting the bed and your lips disconnecting. The sudden distance causes you to whine, “Harry—“

“You’re going to have to tell m’too stop.” He rasps, the heat of his palms travelling up under your sweater. However this time, they traverse higher than just your ribcage— ghosting over the sides of your breasts.

The sight is obscene on its own, despite all articles of clothing still being on. The tension around you both is crowding the air to the point your lungs are heaving to bring any oxygen left into them.

Finally, your brain manages to string a sentence together, “I won’t. I wouldn’t. I don’t think you realise what you’ve done to me.”

The urgency held in your words starkly highlights how fast your need for him has snowballed. You’ve gone from wanting just his lips, to wanting every inch of him. Needing his body pressed against yours, pressed into you. You grasp his hips and tug him to stand between your parted legs.

Once you’d done that, if that hadn’t thrown your last handful of caution to the wind, your fingers now reach for the hem of your sweater.

This was a greenlight. It was a go ahead to cross a line that you both knew shouldn’t be crossed. As it was no longer just words. Not just strung up whispers that imply a want, it was an action that affirmed it. One that drags a growl from him once your hands have shucked the knit from your body, leaving you in just bra and jeans, “pretty little thing y’are.”

“We’re making a mistake, probably,” you pant out, reaching your arms up to his shoulders, grabbing the collar of his jacket to slowly slide it off him. The thick fabric hitting the floor with a gentle thump, “but I don’t fucking care.”

“Mistake is already long done baby, we made that hours ago when we first did this.” He finally cranes down again, pressing a wet kiss against you, making you almost moan.

“Fuck it,” I rasp, “I need you Harry, I wanna do this. Don’t care how stupid we are for it.”

Breaking away from the kiss, his eyes bore down at you as his jaw forms a hard line, “You want this? Need y’to say it…”

His sentence trails off, allowing you a moment to verbalise a yes. A seek for certain consent turns you on even more.

“If it’s not already obvious,” your response comes out in a breathy, almost tortured chuckle, “I do, H.”

It’s like his expression flips. As if his gaze darkens, and now all he wants is to make you feel everything he possibly can, “Right, darling— gonna have to be quiet tonight, though.”

Tonight. God— in your head this implied a want for this to go on for more than just one night. That it’s not just a one and done situation. Your body reels at the imagery it creates in your head.

The picture that shows more than tonight, the two of you sneaking around all over again. Fucking him in his dressing room before soundchecks, in dark hotel rooms, climbing into his bunk on the bus…

And right now, somehow that’s all you want for your future.

“I can…” you nod, “I’ll be quiet if it means I get you, please.”

Your own voice sounds foreign to your ears, the plea so desperate that it comes from you in a tone you’ve simply never heard before. In response, his hands make quick work of your bra as they skate up the skin of your back to meet the clasp— shedding it off your body with a gentle groan.

He lowers you down with his arms, letting your back meet the mattress as he closely follows with his mouth on your neck.

“Already being so good for me,” he rumbles, voice so deep it has you nearly seeing stars, “will y’let me turn the lamp on baby? Want to see you, properly.”

Your heart jumps in your chest, eyes fluttering shut as you nod. He wants to revel in your body, see every reaction it has to offer— and that’s enough to have goosebumps rattle up your skin.

However, your nod alone doesn’t satisfy him.

His hands run up your waist, skirting up your ribcage as his lips instead move down. Mouthing over your clavicle, “Words, love…” making you whine out when his sucks lightly over the skin.

“Need to hear you say it.”

“Yes… yes turn the lamp on…” The words almost shudder out your chest, evoking a smirk from him against your collarbone.

“Good girl.”

His words are foreplay enough on their own with the way his sweet accent twists them out. They replay over and over again as some part of your brain registers the sound of his feet walking across the floor, and the lamp flicking on. Casting a warm glow across the room.

“Want to see you too...”

The sentence comes out of you airy, as if you’re floating. When turns around to come back to you, he audibly groans just at the sight of you. The way your skin is peppered with goosebumps and nipples perked from the cool air of the hotel room.

His steps take him quickly back to you, your eyes big as they stare up at him, hair fanned across the duvet. He reaches a hand to run lightly over your hip, “God, you are fucking divine.”

Shyly, you smile. A part feeling so out of place as you watch him looking at you. Knowing Harry is perceiving you right now— your body from the chest up entirely naked— seeing you in a way he never has before. In attempt to even the playing field slightly, you reach for the white tee that’s fitted across his chest, tugging the hem of it so he gets the hint.

As he peels it off his torso and you want to cry. The abs on his chest are in front of you, along with every inch of tan skin that’s littered in the dark ink. Secretly, his tattoos have always been something you’ve wanted to trace your tongue over. An urge you’ve been denying since he got the first one, and it’s only grown since… the idea of re-carving the lines of the butterfly that sits in the middle of his abdomen with the heat of your mouth… or perhaps lower over the laurels that bloom from the band of his jeans.

“You look so good… so beautiful, H.” Is all you manage to groan out. Your legs part instinctively as you spew out compliments, letting him step between your thighs again. Filling the space like the piece of a puzzle, he slots perfectly between them.

Wasting no time before taking his lips to your breast, kissing over you and making your back arch. Hands coming back to the dark curls on his head, lacing into them as his mouth works delicately over you.

The whimpers that are echoed around the room are enough to drive him insane. Tiny whines and pleas of his name coming from you as your hands tangle further into his hair— pulling at the soft roots. Your body is reacting to his touch like it’s lighting a fire inside of you.

“Harry— fuck—“ when he looks up to you, he sees your flushed cheeks and screwed shut eyes. That paired with the slight upturn of your brows as your hips suddenly— and desperately— grind into him is enough to make him nearly loose it. He’s unable to take it anymore, and seeing you like this is utterly corrupting him.

His kisses work a trail back up your neck and jaw, meeting your eager lips before muttering with hot breath against you, “Y’are unbelievable, love. Gonna completely ruin myself in you…”

His hands are nearly shaking as he presses his hips flush to your core.

“Ohh—“ your voice croons out as you feel him, the hardness snug between your legs. It’s incomparable to anything you’ve ever felt. Your whole body practically gives out just from that simple action alone.

He is truly going to ruin you and himself in the process.

And happily, you’ll let him.

His fingers ghost down your stomach, over your naval to pop the button of your jeans open with a single hand. Watching his plump bottom lip come between his teeth as your hips instinctively rise upwards to help him slide the tight fabric down your frame.

“That’s m’girl,” he murmurs, patting your exposed hipbone as he slips yours jeans off you. The way his pupils have blown out as he peels them below your core, eyes meeting the fabric of your panties.

“What’s all this?” Once your pants are stripped from your legs, his fingers take place gently to press between your parted thighs. Delicately drifting over the wetness that’s seeped through your already thin pair of underwear.

“T-the panties, or the state that they’re in?” You manage to croak out in amusement, tone tight as he touches over the most sensitive parts of you.

“Because arguably, both are for you.”

“For me…” He hums, “Skimpy pair of panties, and the fact y’ve wet them all the way through… both of those things are all f’me, love?”

His finger plucks underneath the seam of your underwear, yanking the lacy material forwards before letting it snap back into place. Only making you moan aloud, “Fuck—“

“It’s been—“ his thumb runs against you, firmer this time, breaking your voice, “it’s been a long night—“

To your admission he only smirks, unbuttoning his own jeans— again, all with the talent of a single hand. As his other is busy with the ministrations it’s working over your clothed core.

“Mm, wouldn’t want to drag it out any longer, hey baby?” His playful voice making you practically clench… “or should I make you come a couple of time first…”

Suddenly, he’s shucked his own jeans off and kicked them over into the haphazardly made pile of other clothes on the floor. And the simple but absolutely mouth watering pair of CK briefs is all he’s left in. His hard cock filling up the space in them, making it abundantly clear he’s working with a lot tonight.

He leans back into your ear, feeling your legs wrap around the backs of his thighs like you’re trying to mould the two of you together, “Could work over your pretty pussy with m’fingers, get it nice and wet.”

The filth from his mouth only makes you moan, tightening your legs and finally feeling the length of his cock back against your cunt.

There’s few layers between you now, and his hands meet your hips to hold you in place flush with himself, “fuck—“

“Could play with you using my mouth for a bit—“ he bites out, already struggling to regulate his breath, “reckon you’d loose it the second I got m’lips around your clit.”

Jesus Christ.

“H— please—“ your words are desperate, voice growing louder.

“Or does my pretty girl just want my cock? Is it too much for you to wait before y’have me— y’just need to be filled up now?”

You rub firmly up against him, a long drag that has him muffling a groan into your neck— teeth grazing the skin of your ear as he revels in the feeling entirely.

“Want it now,” you conclude, “can’t stop thinking about you just stretching me out.”

“God— you are such a fucking tease, y’don’t even realise it,” he growls, kicking back into action as his rough hands travel down your side to hook into your panties.

“Laying here, begging for my cock like a good girl.” The rasp in your voice only makes you more turned on… and the pet name— that in itself is enough to keep you here all night. All things he’s about to witness first hand as he steps back so he can work your underwear off your body.

“Lift y’hips up, dove, let me see your pretty cunt.”

He moans at the sight.

Your panties aren’t even off you and he’s moaning like he’s a starved man.

“Fuck, baby.” There’s a desperate sound to him as he sees your swollen cunt, green eyes raking over the wetness that’s pooled between your legs. Unblinking, scared as if you might disappear.

His own moans kick you off too, making you whine out your own plea, “God— Harry, please…”

He manages to get the panties off you, and now he’s able to spread your legs and really look at you. Hands coming between your knees to part them.

You’re a mess.

A complete and utter mess.

“Hiding this gorgeous cunt from me for so long, never knew you’d get this wet f’me.” He groans, fingers coming to your cunt and spreading you open, “puffy clit looks like it’s been wanting attention for hours, darling.”

The sensation ripples through you body, washing up your spine with a chill that he can almost see, “I— shit…” your voice shudders, “feels like it.”

“Kills me thinking you were this ready for me when we were in the car, or god— on that fucking bridge.”

He swirls his thumb over your clit, your arousal glistening on the pad of his finger. You’re begging before you can stop yourself, backs of your legs tightening around his as you groan, “Harry, please, don’t tease me.”

This pulls a chuckle from his chest, rumbling as he flicking over you gently, “M’not teasing y’baby, just enjoying you.”

His finger slowly dips inside of you, “S’this better, this what my girl wanted?”

“Fuckk…” you roll against his hand, feeling him work a second one into you at your reaction. Relishing the feeling of you around his fingers, the wetness he can’t believe he’s managed to be the cause of.

Never in a million years did he imagine the two of you would be in a situation like this, yet here you are. Breath panting out of lungs as he smirks down at you, watching your brows knit together with every slow curl of his long fingers.

Suddenly, he verbalises this, “Never thought I’d get you under me like this, that I’d get to see you all worked up for me.”

“I—“ you bite your lip as his thumb comes back to gently stroke your clit while his other fingers ease in and out of you. The pace excruciatingly slow, considering you just wanted him to flip you over and fuck you senseless— but is causing a deep winding in the pit of your stomach.

It’s another moment where your mouth and brain struggle to match up, but finally, you push out a reply, “I’ve always been denying that I’ve wanted this… but fuck.”

“Mm?” He hums, cocking a brow and urging you to keep talking with a quicker thrust of his fingers, “Care to tell me more, love, about these thoughts of yours?”

“Always pretended I didn’t, but fuck I’ve wanted to have you—“ he hooks his fingers, “B-but— fuck, Harry— I’ve wanted your cock for so long…”

His mouth is suddenly on yours, a rough and messy exchange— tongues running over lips, teeth grazing already kiss swollen mouths. It’s a kiss that you’re both groaning into, yours perpetuated as his fingers slide out from between your core.

An unwelcome emptiness to your body, especially given the pleasure it was slowly building up for you.

However, this is no longer an issue when he leans to your ear, “I have condoms, baby— just say the words.”

“Yes, yes, please—“ you croak out, hands running up his bare back before he doesn’t waste any time breaking away from you.

Trying to make it quick as you lie there awaiting his return, a hand running between your own legs in the meantime.

He comes back with a small square packet, stopping dead in his tracks as he sees the sight of you. When he thinks there’s no way his cock could get harder, he’s proved wrong when he catches glimpse of your own fingers pushed into you.

“So desperate,” he almost growls as he walks over, pushing boxers down his thighs without a second thought. A moan escaping you at the sight of his thick cock springing up, lust driving the both of you now— its deep hooks sunk into you in their entirety.

“They don’t feel the same though, do they?” He asks, eyes dark as his hand runs down the middle of his stomach to come wrap around his length and slowly stroke over it, “don’t hear you moaning like you were five minutes ago.”

“Fucking hell,” your hips feel like they’re on fire, another roll against your own hand but he’s right, “no, nothing is as good…”

“I have a feeling we’re going to fuck ourselves up here,” he pauses, taking the wrapper of the condom between his teeth and tearing it. Hand rolling it over his length— his teeth sucking his bottom lip between them at the sensitivity. His nose sighs out a breath after a moment, glancing back over to you, continuing on from what he was saying a moment prior, “tha’ no matter how hard we try we’re always gonna want this.”

His hands gesture between the two of you, and despite how many problems that idea alone could spell you, you nod feverishly, “I’ll have it… I’ll take it that way if it means I get to have you.”

With that, he’s stepping forward and taking the space between your thighs, “guess the damage is already done, anyway.”

His breath is laboured as he pulls your ass forward, cock pressed against your core.

“You tell me baby,” Harry sighs out, leaning his body over yours again from where he stands at the edge of the bed, lips grazing your cheek in a soft but heated movement, “tell me just how you want it.”

There’s an element of tenderness and care in the way the hushed words fan warmly across your face. Intimate with the way the two of you are pressed together… almost as close as you can get. One step away from being two halves that form some kind of messy, beautiful whole.

Your hands embrace the moment, sliding between your chests to cradle his jaw. A tiny laugh coming from you as his gaze flickers down to your breasts, and how they’ve pushed together from your arms. As a silent acknowledgment of your giggling at him, he rolls his eyes in faux annoyance.

And oh god, he is beautiful.

Nothing could’ve prepared you for this.

Plain and simple, the words come from your hushed voice, “Want you just like this, H.”

His lips part, looking at you.

“Want you close, just want you to fuck me.”

And how could he ever say no to that.

A hand wrapping around his cock, he carefully lines himself up with you, leaning back to kiss you as he slowly, so very slowly, pushes into you.

There’s a gasp that immediately comes from you, and a moan that rumbles from him. Shared between the fraction of space between your lips, opened both in shock and pleasure.

“Fucking hell—“ his voice is so deep as he leans his forehead to yours, hair messily cascading over it, “so tight ‘round me.”

“Harry— f— shit…” you can’t even complete a sentence, even with the litany of profanities that are echoing in the chambers of your head.

“That feel good?” He asks, hand coming to your waist as he slides further into you, finally reaching the thick middle of his cock.

“Mmm…” only able to nod, your hips are rolling on their own accord now. The slight pinch of him stretching you out, paired with that pleasurable fullness that neither of your fingers could come close to.

His body straightens up at the buck of your cunt against him, “D—fuck—dontfuckingmove—“

It feels like all the blood in his body has deviated in two directions. Firstly, into his head, making him feel so lightheaded the room is nearly slanted. And secondly, straight to his cock, pulsing inside of you so hard you can feel it.

You moan at the sensation, and at the rough clamp of his fingers around your hips— attempting to still them, “baby, don’t… just— just need a moment, or I’m gonna come before I can even ruin you…”

“Already ruined,” you pant, eyes coming to his as sweat starts to dampen your skin— a light sheen over your glowy complexion.

“So fucking filthy.” He mutters, looking down between the two of you.

His cock half pushed inside you he’s certain is the best view he’s ever seen. Better than any view from the top of a bridge, a mountain, or any other landmark in the world.

Your swollen, glistening cunt wrapped around him, already leaking arousal more arousal now he’s got his cock in you. Reacting as you’ve never been touched before.

Slowly, he manages to get himself fully inside of you, and is starting to make small thrusts— hips gently hitting against yours as he draws in and out of you. A low, intense groan escaping him with each movement. And it’s good to know it feels just as insane for him as it does for you, because right now— even with just his length rutting at such a gradual pace inside of you, you’re already melting.

Every inch of your body is tingling as his name comes from your lips in the form of a desperate moan, “Harry….”

A harder thrust, and your hands are wringing the white comforter as you legs wrap tighter around his middle.

He wants to imprint the shape of your body on this duvet, and frame the scrunches from your curled fists like art pieces. Just to know that what he did to you, and how it made you feel was entirely real. Not something he dreamed up. That the words leaving your lips are no figment of depraved imagination.

“I'm so fucking wet… I’m sorry— I'm making a mess.” You whine, body shaking. You feel out of control, every reaction coming from your body that of a primal instinct you can't wrap any element of authority over.

The sweet cadence of your voice as you shift beneath him... that in itself makes him feel like if he blinks, he’s suddenly going to wake up. Alone in a hotel room, in need of a cold, cold shower. Making his head spin, and it effortlessly swindles his sense of reality from him.

His hands splay on your hips, the hint of possessive nature in him you felt as they coil and tighten around the skin there. Anchoring where you lay as he cements himself in reality.

“No baby—“ he scolds at your apology, “y'dont 'ave to apologise. Being such a good girl f’me… feel you clenching me so hard already.”

An unbridled moan tears from your chest as he takes it upon himself to pull almost all the way out of your cunt, and then swiftly drive back into you.

“Fuckkk!” It’s a high pitched moan, the exact thing he wants to hear more of, even though the two of you should be trying a lot harder to be quiet. It still manages drags out a groan of him in response.

“Have to— shittt… have to be quiet darling…” he reminds, head tossing back as he suddenly picks up the pace between your legs.

“Feels so good, H… your cock is filling me up feels so fucking good—“

“N’ya takin’ it so bloody well,” he slaps lightly at your ass, suddenly grabbing it to cant your hips upward, “never been fucked this good, have you?”

In truth, you haven't. Never has it felt like every nerve-ending on your body is tingling, and like any more from him and you would simply break.

“N-no, Harry.” your head physically shakes, arms using any strength you have left to come behind you, and prop yourself up onto your elbows. Desperately, you want to see him inside of you, and what he's done to you.

He smirks at this, watching your eyes meet where he's stretching you out between your legs. The way your eyes flutter shut and roll back just at the sight. A visual accompanying the feeling is almost too much for you to process.

"Tha's it baby, take a look... see what I'm doing, how my cock is making y'feel so good."

A clench around his cock, and he grunts with another deeper thrust into you. Its sudden and abundantly clear that he’s starting to loose himself in you, unable to stop his mouth from spewing every dirty thing his brain produces, “C'mon, love. Beg me for it.”

“Tell me you don’t want me to stop.”

Your core is fluttering around him now, succinctly timed to each press of his cock, “Harry—“

The words however don’t come, only whines and moans as his cock pushes deeper into you with each stroke.

“Don’t make me get rough.” His tone is a sweet contradiction to his words, and he only juxtaposes them further with the feather-like touch of his fingers against your breast, "Or is that what my girl wants, wants me to get rough? Use you a little. Let me be selfish with this pussy and take it how I want.”

Curling his fingers around your breast, he squeezes gently, making you bite down on your lip to stifle the cry that was threatening to come out.

“Rough, be rough… can take it.” You pant out, arms giving out again as your back hits the mattress. Unable to support your weight, but still managing to reach up and tug his face to yours. He folds his body over yours to comply with the pull of your hands. Chest to chest, his cock is starting to slam harder into you, deeper— hitting places you were unaware of as his pelvis stimulates your clit from this new angle.

Turning to mush, the moans are bubbling out faster than you’re able to hold them back, your mouth resting parted against his cheekbone. His ears hearing each and every sound with complete pleasure.

“Shh, such a loud girl.” He says, but its hardly a scold or instruction to quieten down. It speaks more like an invitation, to let him hear more of you, no matter the consequences it could bring after the fact.

Infact, his own voice is beginning to sound strained, like another rough clench of your cunt and he's would to come straight into the condom wrapped around his cock.

You want him to come desperately. Your body perhaps wants it even more— doing things to tip him closer and closer to the edge you're both teetering on without even consciously noticing it.

Legs tightening around his waist, arms holding him as close as physically possible, nails clawing at the firm muscles of his back. As if there were a way to fuse the two of your frames together.

“God… it’s so fucking good… I feel so good.”

“Pretty girl, about to come all over my cock." He grinds out, feeling you pulse around his length, "About to wake the whole floor up, aren't you?"

The sound of him fucking you is enough— each slide of himself into your slick arousal that’s soaked both your cunt and his cock is louder than the next. But god, oh god, its hand that slowly wraps around the column of your neck that completely undoes you.

He doesn't press down, the touch is actually quite tender. But even the semblance of control it represents in your mind rips a moan from you as your core tightens, a hot budding sensation in the pit of your stomach. His slender fingers gliding up slowly— a stark contrast to the pace he's taking between your legs— thumb stroking the hook of your jaw with just a tad more pressure behind it.

Your impending orgasm feels like a pot that is just about to boil over the edge. It's making your whole body shake, "Sh— Shit! Harryyy, im gonna—"

"Mhm, baby, it's okay, i know," He whispers hoarsly into your ear, "Dont worry, y'can come, let it all go around my cock."

"Ohh— Oh god!" Your syllables draw out as you moan, eyes screwing shut as suddenly all the pressure between your hips explodes, "come with me."

The plea spills from your lips as your body clenches around him, making him moan with you. In an instant response to your words, you feel his thrusts turn messy and harsh inside you. Your name a loud drawn out whine that echoes around the room as he gives into your ask without a single question.

The two of your moan completely in sync as a shared blanket of ecstasy and euphoria casts over you both. The moment maybe lasted a minute, or really no more than two. But it felt endless, as if time and reality ceased to exist when you both finished with each other. His cock released into the condom, but his thighs stuttered against yours either way, as if he were filling your cunt with his orgasm. A groan rattling from him when your legs wrapped tighter around him, pulling him flush to you. You know he knows that's exactly what you were wishing were happening right now. Playing along with it to satiate the sick craving for it within you as you still pulsated around his length.

Expletive's are the only things coming from your mouths other than whines. Your orgasms gradually subsiding from the heated high that was all consuming to a low hum that lingers in your bones. Still, you're holding his hips to yours as if to keep him inside of you.

Logistically, a condom was the appropriate thing to do for first and very unplanned time together, but of course right now you wish otherwise.

"Fuckkk, dirty girl," He growls out finally, pressing a hot kiss to your smiling mouth, "Acting like im filling you up?"

Hand sliding up to your cup your jaw fully now, he cranes his thumb out and is pulling on your lip, waiting for your brain to slowly start working enough to generate a sensical reply.

"Is that wrong?"

"Fuck, no. it's so hot." His voice is low as he kisses you again, letting your mouths work against each other again in a sensual kiss.

"Can't help it, H," You try to justify anyways, "cock feels so good inside me, was wishing I got your come..."

“Didn’t know you wanted it angel,” he whispers in a pant.

“Mhm, neither,” you hum against his mouth, “till I just realised how good it made me feel imagining your finishing inside of me.”

"Gonna make me hard again..." He sighs out with a shake of his head, "'Nother night baby, can fill you up anywhere y'like."

Anywhere. God.

Images of his cock filling your mouth makes you shudder with need. A thing you are keenly interested in trying… and since clearly he’s insinuating this could happen again…

"Want this again?" You ask, a slightly serious tone taking over your voice as he slowly peels off you, feeling your legs loosen from around him as his cock softens.

A smile blossoms on his lips at the way your big eyes gaze up to him, "Again, and again."

"If it wasn't obvious already, love."

A blush was conjuring on your cheeks out of nowhere, "I— Okay... good. Because I do too."

"Who knows—" He begins, pausing with a slight wince as he slides out of you. There’s a lull in what he was saying for a moment, when he leans down to kiss your cheek, walking over to a bin to dispose of the used condom that was just wrapped over him.

He also goes and grabs the two take away cups from the counter, wasting no more time before coming back to you. Finally resuming his prior conversation, “Drink this and then maybe we can squeeze another round in before we have t'sneak you back to your room."

"Think we woke anyone?" You giggle, sitting up to take the cup from his hand thats gestured out to you.

"Wouldn't rule it out." He snorts, "we can worry about what lie we'll tell later, if anyone asks."

"But," he takes a small sip from his cup, still staring at you, "either way, right now, i dont care."

"I want you." His voice is certain, "So, rest of tha' is irrelevant to me."

"C'mere," Hand wrapping around his bicep, pulling him onto the bed with you. The mattress sinks with his weight on top of it, his firm frame that was only just on top of you moments before... You lean forward and peck his mouth with yours. One he doesn't want to end as soon as it does, his mouth chasing yours as you pull back far too soon for his liking. Clearly, you're in the same boat as him, unable to find it in yourself to care about anything other than him. That in this very moment as you have him, real and in front of you, he is yours. "Fuck, then. Lets just do it."

"Think we already did, love." He chuckles, letting the innuendo come out with a rasp. Unbelievable, he is.

You can only shake your head, suppressing a grin as you bring the once-hot hot chocolate to your lips. The liquid is lukewarm at best, but somehow nothing has ever tasted better— except maybe his mouth.

———

a/n: hope you guys enjoyed, this has been in the works in my drafts for SO long. pls let me know what you think! ily, thank you for your support and hopefully will post some more writing soon lovelies🤍

[moonstruckme]

not sure this really applies for the blueberry muffin prompt but...update on roomate!james and reader? 🥺 (AND CONGRATS ON 7k 🥳🥳)

It does haha! I knew blueberry muffin would be my downfall (but it's okay I signed up for it and ily regardless). Please accept this garbage fire of a drabble <3

cw: modern au, alcohol mention

roommate!James x shy!reader ♡ 683 words

You’re squished between Sirius and James, the two people here least likely to allow you space to breathe. James has got you half in his lap, his arm around your waist and one of your thighs over his, while Sirius’ shoulder pushes into yours, his legs cast over the arm of his couch so he can kick gently at Remus when the urge strikes him. 

“Her coworker hates me,” James says. 

“He does not.” You roll your eyes. This is a topic you’ve been over before. “Art likes you just fine.”

“Does too!” He pinches your waist. “It’s because he’s in love with you.” 

You fight the urge to hide your face in his side. “He is not.” 

James laughs. “He is, sweetheart. You just can’t see it.” 

“You would hardly know, would you?” Sirius agrees, but he agrees with James on everything. You’re fairly sure that if James said the moon was green, Sirius would swear the same until his dying breath. “You didn’t know our Jamesie liked you until he practically confessed.” 

“I still doubt it sometimes,” you mutter, earning you another teasing pinch from your boyfriend. 

“Hold on,” says Lily, “she’s the one who works with him.”

Remus nods. While Sirius always agrees with James, Remus always disagrees with the both of them. You suspect this is mostly because he enjoys getting them riled up. “Exactly. I think y/n has had plenty more time to figure out if he has feelings than you have, James.” 

“He used to walk her home after every shift,” James argues. 

“Because he’s nice,” you sigh. 

“Nice to you, you mean.”

“It’s very normal to walk girls home from late shifts.” 

Remus hums. “Have you considered, James, that maybe because you’ve never worked in the service industry, there are norms you don’t understand?” His tone is smug. Sirius kicks his foot at him lazily.

James’ eyebrows rise above the frames of his glasses. “Have you considered,” he waves his free hand in your direction, “look at her?” 

Your face heats something atrocious. Sirius tsks. “He’s got you there, darling.” 

“Hush,” you say to James, though you can’t manage to infuse your voice with any sternness. “You’re the only one that thinks that.” 

“Nope,” he replies, popping the p. “Actually, it’s me and Art and every other seeing person on the planet. Sorry, sweetheart.” 

You’re not sure if he’s apologizing sardonically or genuinely, for the pain his compliments are causing you. A big hand cups the side of your head, bringing you closer so he can kiss your hair. 

It doesn’t pacify you. “You’re awful,” you say, slipping out from between him and Sirius so his friend nearly falls sideways onto James’ lap. “I’m going to get some water, does anyone want anything?” 

Lily and Remus say no, Sirius asks for a cider, and James is noticeably silent. You can’t say you’re surprised when he comes into the kitchen behind you. 

He gives you a sheepish look. You don’t believe it even a little. “Have I scared you off?” 

You go to Sirius and Remus’ fridge, grabbing the cider for Sirius. “No.” 

“But I embarrassed you.” James wraps his arms around your middle, smushing his lips to your hairline. “M’sorry, lovely.” 

“Don’t,” you say, though you’re far from pulling out of his embrace. “It takes more than that to scare me off.” 

“Yeah?” You can hear the teasing slip into his voice, and that scares you more than it should. “Good. Because you’re gonna have to get used to it, you know. I don’t plan on toning down how lovely you are just because you might get shy on me.” 

You tilt your head back to see him. “You’re insufferable.” 

“So you’re always telling me.” James’ grin is huge. He drops a kiss on the bridge of your nose. “You’re lovely, and I’m insufferable. How’s that fair?” 

“Dunno.” You kiss his chin in return. Fill your cup with water and brush past him out the kitchen. “Suppose you’ll have to get use to it.” 

It’s impossible not to smile when his laughter sounds behind you. 

[mylovesstuffs]

“It’s not cute” — Choi Seungcheol

Request: hey, Celeste!!! how are you doing? I'm so glad your requests are open!

i wanted to request something (in whatever form you feel most inspired to): reader having essential tremors (it's an actual condition im not making it up 😭✋) and being frustrated about it, maybe lashing out or breaking down one day. the fact that everyone points it out and sometimes joke abt it, etc. angst + comfort , maybe? also i'd like it to be w cheol or wonu, but tbh any of them is absolutely fine!

tysm <333

It starts with eyeliner and ends in a breakdown. The world doesn’t understand what it’s like to live in a body that won’t always obey, tired of laughing first before someone else can. But Seungcheol doesn’t need to understand it all, he just holds your trembling hands like they’ve always been steady, and loves you like you’ve never been less.

Genre: Non-idol au, established relationship, angst and comfort, introspective slice of life and character study

Pairing: Seungcheol × fem!reader

Content: Essential tremors [aka benign tremor, familial tremor, and idiopathic tremor], emotional breakdown, eyeliner symbolism [bc girlyhood], comfort from a loving partner who is choi seungcheol, no judgment, warm arms and understanding hearts, one-sided flashbacks to bullying/teasing, reader struggling with internalized shame, reassurance, love that stays

Content warning: Mentions of medical condition [essential tremors], anxiety, childhood bullying, ableist microaggressions, internalized frustration and self-doubt, crying, cursing once or twice, one emotionally charged breakdown. No explicit content.

Word count: 921 words

A/N: It was supposed to be shorter... about 400 words like a drabble, though I still think it's drabble but I was hoping for it to either be 400-500 words or 1k 😔

For my sweet anon—i hope this gives you even a sliver of the comfort you were looking for. This one was written with a lot of heart at like... 2:46 am when i should’ve been asleep but cheol brainrot said otherwise. To anyone else who reads this and relates even a little: your exhaustion and frustration is valid, and your hands deserve to be held gently too. I experience a slight tremor as well, though I believe it’s genetic since it runs in my family. According to my doctor, mine is primarily triggered by stress and anxiety [I was under treatment back in October during a period when my mental health went really down]. I’ve been prescribed different medications since then, not specifically targeted for tremors, but the tremor was listed as one of the symptoms being addressed in the medication guidelines. While I might not fully relate to this experience, as my condition hasn’t been formally diagnosed and doesn’t really interfere with my daily life, I still hope I was able to do this piece justice. Also, huge thanks to Calli @hhaechansmoless for beta-ing. As always, we run anyway ! (￣▽￣)ノ♡

It starts small, and it always does; a dropped spoon, a tremble in your fingers while pouring water. The slightest bit of shake that you'd think it could pass unnoticed, but that, people always notice, and never don’t comment on.

“Why are you always shaking?”

“You nervous or something?”

“You should drink less coffee.”

“Aw, you’re like a baby deer.”

Haha, it is so funny to you at this point. But today, it feels entirely different to you, it's like you're not yourself anymore. You’re tired, and you just want to put your eyeliner on, but the line goes jagged again. And for some reason, that tiny thing becomes the last straw of the day.

You slam the eyeliner on the counter and nearly knock over everything else with your unsteady hands. “God, I’m so sick of this!” you hiss. “Why can’t I just be normal for five fucking seconds?”

The bathroom door creaks open and you already feel Seungcheol behind you. “Hey,” he says softly. “What’s going on?”

You blink back your unshed tears, but still they betray you like everything else lately. “It’s not cute, Cheol. It’s not quirky, or funny, or something you get to joke about. I hate it. I hate how I shake. I hate how people treat me like it’s some personality trait. It’s a condition, and I’m tired.” Your voice cracks, and so does your composure, and you sink down onto the closed toilet lid, face in your hands, breath shaky just like your very own fingers. The way they’ve done for so long, it doesn’t even surprise you anymore.

All you expect right now, is silence. But instead big, calloused, warm hands wrap gently around yours.

Shaking or not, he brings them to his lips and kisses your knuckles, softly and slowly. “I know it’s not cute when people don’t take it seriously,” he says, kneeling in front of you. “And I’m sorry if anyone’s ever made you feel like you have to pretend it’s no big deal.”

You look up with your glassy eyes and trembling lips. “I’ve never once thought less of you for it,” he murmurs. “You don’t have to be ‘normal’ to be everything I love.” A small sob leaves your lips, and he pulls you into a hug, his arms secure around you, voice a low hum against your hair. “You can be frustrated. You can hate it, but you don’t have to go through it alone. I’m here, even if your hands shake every day for the rest of your life, I’ll still hold them just like this.”

You want to believe him, even as your fingers tremble. In fact, you do believe him; believe that he doesn’t want to let go, that he won’t.

But there’s something bitter lodged deep in your chest, a heaviness that doesn't disappear just because someone holds you through it, because you've heard this before. Variations of it. Words that sounded like comfort, but were laced with pity, gestures that looked like care, but never stayed long enough to be safe.

You remember being younger and dropping your spoon in front of classmates during recess. The laughter and the mock sympathy haunted you for years and they still does. “Are you scared?” they'd tease. You weren’t; not then at least. You didn’t even know what was happening, and why your body betrayed you when all you wanted was to be still.

And now, years later, it’s not even the tremor that hurts most, it’s what comes along with it without your consent. The way people watch, the way they assume it’s your fault, the way you're constantly being explained—to others, to yourself, that you’ve become a walking explanation.

“You know, she has this thing—”

“It’s not that big of a deal—”

“She’s always been like that—” You’re always like that.

It chips away at you, little by little, and you start adjusting your life to avoid the gaze. No eyeliner on days you feel particularly self-conscious, two hands to hold a cup, even if it makes you look ridiculous, rehearsing how you’ll brush it off when someone points it out again; laughing before they do, so it seems like you're okay with it.

You’ve weaponized your own shame into pre-emptive jokes. Turned your fear into something palatable… but it still hurts. It hurts when people don’t even ask if you’re okay. They just assume you’re something to laugh at, to observe, and you’ve been strong for so long, that today just felt like the end of it. Like how this one tiny thing —the jagged eyeliner—was all it took to remind you how helpless it can feel to live in a body that doesn’t always listen. But now, there’s warmth.

And maybe that should terrify you, because if people can be cruel, then love can be temporary. But his arms around you don’t feel temporary, his silence doesn’t feel judgmental, and most important of all, he doesn’t ask you to feel better; he just stays along with you.

You want to believe that someone can see all of it: the struggle, the cracks, the exhaustion, and still choose to stay, but not because they pity you, not because they want to fix you, but because they love you even like this, and especially like this.

Your breath hiccups in your throat, and you let yourself lean into him just a little more. Though your hands still shake, you begin to believe they don’t make you any less worthy of being held.

[killuasskateboard]

BOOMSHAKALAKA ok a thought ive always had is basically during the greed island arc, when yk how their training under bisky. I NEED a one shot abt reader training w them and over some time, bisky notices the tension n feelings between us n kil HAHA, and right before killua leaves greed island to retake the hunter exam, bisky motivates us to confess to kil and we return back to her w good results ( ˘͈ ᵕ ˘͈♡)

also ty for the support u have for my @pe4cht3a sideblog :33 ur doing so well, i love ur killua works ପ (๑´ ˘ ` ๑) ଓ ♡

A/n: thank you sososo much for requesting againn! I love your requests, and plus im running out of ideas (⁠｡⁠ŏ⁠﹏⁠ŏ⁠), and OFCC i love your works smm! Tysm for the support you have in my sideblog too !! I hope the story is up to your expectations!! Enjoy (⁠人⁠*⁠´⁠∀⁠｀⁠)⁠｡⁠*ﾟ⁠+

✼ •• ┈┈┈┈๑⋅⋯ ୨˚୧ ⋯⋅๑┈┈┈┈ •• ✼

Unspoken feelings

The sun had begun its slow descent, casting golden light over the open training field. The air buzzed with energy as you stood across from Killua, fists clenched, body aching from hours of sparring.

“Give up yet?” Killua smirked, wiping a trickle of sweat from his temple.

You scoffed, rolling your shoulders. “Not a chance.”

Nearby, Gon sat cross-legged on the grass, watching with an eager grin. “You guys always fight really hard! It’s kinda fun to watch.”

Bisky, who had been observing from a nearby rock, let out an exaggerated sigh. “Fun isn’t the word I’d use. Painful is more like it.”

You and Killua turned to her, puzzled.

“Painful?” you repeated.

Bisky smirked, polishing her nails. “Oh, don’t play dumb. The tension between you two is ridiculous.”

Killua groaned, running a hand through his hair. “Not this again.”

Gon tilted his head, blinking in confusion. “Tension? What do you mean?”

Bisky grinned mischievously. “Come on, Gon. Even you must have noticed. The way these two are always competing, always staring each other down, always bickering like an old married couple.”

You felt heat rush to your face. “We do not—”

“Oh! I kinda see what you mean,” Gon cut in, nodding in realization. “You and Killua are always focused on each other, even when we’re not training. And sometimes, you guys just stand there, staring at each other, but then one of you looks away really fast!”

Killua choked on his own breath. “We do not do that!”

“Yeah, you do!” Gon said enthusiastically. “Like yesterday, when we were fishing, and you were watching y/n instead of the water—”

Killua immediately clamped a hand over Gon’s mouth, his face bright red. “Gon, shut up!”

You covered your own face with your hands, mortified beyond belief.

Bisky let out a satisfied hum. “See? Even Gon noticed. And he’s as dense as a brick.”

Gon mumbled something against Killua’s hand, and when Killua reluctantly let him go, he grinned. “I think you guys like each other.”

Killua groaned loudly, dragging a hand down his face. “I’m leaving. I can’t do this.”

You, on the other hand, were too busy trying to will yourself into the earth.

✩*⢄⢁✧ --------- ✧⡈⡠*✩

That night, you sat on a grassy hill overlooking the sea, hugging your knees to your chest. Bisky’s words echoed in your mind. 'You’re really gonna let him leave without saying anything?'

You groaned, burying your face in your arms.

“You look miserable.”

You jumped, turning to find Killua standing behind you, hands shoved in his pockets, his usual smirk in place.

“I wouldn’t be if people stopped sneaking up on me,” you grumbled.

He sat beside you, stretching his legs out in front of him. “So, what’s up? Feeling guilty about losing to me earlier?”

You shot him a glare, but your heart wasn’t in it. “Not everything is about competition, you know.”

Killua snorted. “Since when?”

Silence settled between you, the sound of waves crashing against the shore filling the space.

Then, after a moment, Killua spoke again.

“You’re really upset about me leaving, huh?”

You hesitated before answering. “…Yeah.”

Killua glanced at you, his expression softer than usual. “I mean, I’m coming back. It’s not like I’m disappearing forever.”

You exhaled, gripping the grass beneath your fingers. “I know. But… training and collecting spell cards won’t be the same without you.”

Killua didn’t respond right away. Then, to your surprise, he let out a small chuckle. “You’re really bad at this, you know.”

You frowned. “At what?”

He turned to face you fully, his smirk fading into something more genuine. “At hiding how much you like me.”

Your heart stopped. “I—”

But before you could stammer out a response, Killua reached over and flicked your forehead lightly, a teasing glint in his eyes. “Took you long enough to admit it.”

You blinked, shocked. “Wait—so you—?”

Killua shrugged, looking away. “Yeah. I wasn’t gonna say anything, though. Figured you’d come around eventually.”

You punched his arm, but warmth bloomed in your chest. “You’re insufferable.”

“And you’re predictable,” he teased.

Despite the bickering, something had changed. The tension, the rivalry, the unspoken feelings—they were finally out in the open.

And when you returned to Bisky the next morning, slightly red-faced but grinning, she took one look at you and smirked.

“Good results?”

You nodded.

Gon, as cheerful as ever, beamed. “I knew it!”

Bisky laughed, folding her arms. “Took you both long enough.”

End.

✼ •• ┈┈┈┈๑⋅⋯ ୨˚୧ ⋯⋅๑┈┈┈┈ •• ✼

Thank you for reading !!

Feel free to request, ill answer them if i have the time and if i have the inspiration to do so. I am sorry if there are some grammar mistakes, english isnt my first language.

Have a nice day/night (⁠◍⁠•⁠ᴗ⁠•⁠◍⁠)⁠✧⁠*⁠。

[midnight-bay-if]

How would the RO's go about dealing with a MC is who is incredibly, painfully, oblivious when being flirted with? XD

(Honestly, relateable lol.)

S: They are a little bit gutted, haha. It's the first time in a long time they've put themselves out there, only for their lines to fall flat. S has always had a certain level of confidence, which has made them appealing to many admirers in the past. They are beginning to think they may have lost that spark.

In the end, they will resort to the most cliche, overtly romantic gestures they can think of. Expect the largest red rose bouquet you have ever seen, paired with a personalised sonnet of proclaimed affection, and dinner by candlight with classical music playing softly in the background.

Rain: Rain finds it adorable, but also confusing. Sometimes they can't tell whether you are trying to let them down gently, or if you are really not understanding their interest. So, they begin to test the waters.

"So, MC," they begin, throwing an arm over your shoulder. "Fancy spending some time together? You know, one on one?" or "This is cozy, isn't it? Just us two."

If you still don't seem to be biting, they will resort to diving straight in. "MC, I find you really attractive, and I really like you. I don't have any expectations, but I think you think I'm cute, too? Wanna grab a drink or something?"

Taj: Taj will rarely make the first move. When they do try, their flirting game is pretty abhorrent, so it wouldn't be a surprise if you didn't understand what was happening. Taj is definitely the kind of flirt to tug on your pigtails and call you mean names as a way of getting your attention, lol.

If the relationship with Taj is to go anywhere, it would be wise to get better at reading people's intentions rather than their words. Taj is much better at demonstrating their interest with sweet little actions, which they will only do for you.

N: This will be a battle N enjoys. Honestly, it would be a miracle if you didn't recognise N was flirting because of how blatant they are. Every vowel drips with sensuality. However, if you truly still didn't get it or didn't believe it to be a genuine display of interest, they would have fun with it.

"Oh, you are looking so tired, my dear," they whisper close to your ear, curling their hands across your shoulders as they knead the flesh there. "Is there anything I could possibly do to help you relax?"

The more it goes over your head, the harder they push... because it's an absolute joy of theirs to feel the quickening of your pulse and the panic in your voice when they get close.

Umbra: This would be an absolute trainwreck, lol. Most of the time, Umbra doesn't even realise they are flirting, nor that flirting was their intention. All they know is when they are near you, they feel alive.

It's a feeling they want to chase. It doesn't matter if you don't recognise their desires; just let them stay close.

[theshotsheardacrossworlds]

Homesick

Frustrated by the lack of any solution to her not so little tadpole problem, Selene Longsong receives comfort from an unexpected source---Rolan. SFW.

Selene Longsong yelled, tears streaming down her pale red cheeks and tail wagging behind her. She then picked up yet another rock and threw it into the water. After a truly depressing dinner with her companions, she explained that she needed some time alone to “process everything.”

Process.

Process that so far, we’ve found no cure. That Nettie had a bloody branch coated in a lethal toxin in case I didn’t tell her everything.

WHICH I DID BECAUSE I THOUGHT HEALERS ARE SUPPOSED TO HEAL. FUCK ME, I GUESS!

“FUCK!”

“A good evening to you too.”

WHAT?!?!?

Selene turned suddenly around to see quite possibly the last person I expected to see. “Rolan.” She sniffled, wiping her eyes. “I, um, didn’t hear you coming.”

He rolled his eyes. “Well, it must be hard to hear among the screaming and splashes.” Any bravado and humor he might have had disappeared as he observed her. “Are you alright?”

He looks worried.

Can I trust him?

Should I trust him?

Or will he—

He tentatively stepped towards her, holding out one of his hands. “If I might be of any service, my friend, then please—”

Her lower lip quivered as more tears fell. “Rolan…I just want to go home…”

“I know, my dear. I know.”

Between his sad smile, tender tone, and kind eyes, Selene allowed herself to let go for the first time since she was abducted and began to weep. Rolan immediately took her hand, and with his other arm around her thick waist, he led her to a nearby bench. “There, there. There, there. Why don’t we sit down?” He murmured softly, and she felt herself practically melting in his hold.

After they settled on the bench, I’m not letting go of his hand. Feels too nice. And he smells nice. “I’m sorry. I…” Sorry, it’s been a shit in a shit week. “I just want to go home…”

Home.

Mum and Dad.

My cat.

My friends.

Brownies.

Where there’s no tadpoles or racist druids or cults…

“You said home is Baldur’s Gate, did you not?” He asked as he squeezed her hand. “Do you have family there?”

She nodded. “My parents. Mum’s a cook at Wildheart Manor. Dad runs his gran’s bakery, where I work in between adventuring jobs.” Finally stopped crying. Thank gods. “Though he wasn’t always a baker.” She smiled and squeezed his hand. “He was a pirate when he was a young man. Mum was a barmaid at the Elfsong Tavern. But when they found out they were having me,” What a fucking surprise that was, according to Mum. “Mum got the job at Wildheart Manor, and Dad decided to help his gran and the bakery. And now I do too.” As much as I love being a barbarian…being an adventurer…protecting people…I don’t know. Mum and Dad are getting older. I should…I wish…No. Best not to speak of this in front of a very handsome man.

There was a kindness in his yellow eyes that she swooned over on the inside. I’m not making a fool of out of myself…not in front of him…oh gods. “You’re close with your family. That’s admirable. Wonderful, even.” Rolan chuckled nervously. “Lia and Cal annoy the hells out of me sometimes, but I don’t know what my life would like without them.” He glanced at her quickly, cheeks flushed. “Your parents must be very proud of you.”

“From the day I was born, they’ve been proud. Wanna hear something wild?” Haha get it, I’m a wild magic barbarian. Please laugh. Oh thank fuck, he laughed! “My parents are human—”

Rolan’s eyes widened. “Y-you mean, you were born to human parents or were you adopted?”

Uh oh, maybe I should keep my mouth shut. He looks even more nervous. Shit.

She released his hand and fidgeted slightly. “Yeah, born to them. Um, if this makes you uncomfortable…” Maybe he thinks I’m a freak?

He reached for her hand again. “My apologies. It’s not that I’m uncomfortable. Far from it.” THANK GOODNESS. “It’s just…erm, I’ve never heard of a tiefling born to human parents who actually…kept the baby. You’re the first.” He shook his head, then met her gaze, smiling politely. “But please continue. I want to hear where this story is headed, as it were.” Rolan, you’re such a fucking dork and I love it.

Selene grinned. “So, when I was born, the midwife tried to tell Mum and Dad I could be ‘removed’ or some shit. Do you want to know what they did?” Upon hearing him hum in assent, she continued. “Mum clutched me and said, ‘If you try to take my baby, I’ll fucking kill you.’ Dad apparently was ready to enter a rage and was looking for something blunt to knock out the midwife if necessary.”

He barked a laugh. “Goodness me, your parents do love you very much. Yes, yes…” Stop being so nervous, Rolan. Do I make him nervous? Shit. “You’re very lucky, you know.”

Yes.

Yes, I am.

And I miss them so much.

Okay, before I start crying again, I need to change the subject.

“I’m also very lucky because I have a cat.” Selene giggled. “His name is Mortimer, and he’s my baby.”

Rolan snorted. “Mortimer?”

“Mortimer. I found him when he was a kitten…”

Selene did not know how long she and Rolan sat and talked, nor did she care, only admitting the passage of time when he stifled a yawn.

“Forgive me, I think the hour is now quite late.” He said with a rueful smile. “May I walk you back to your camp, my dear? You never know what lurks in the shadows.” Rising, he offered his hand, which she took with a warm smile.

Rolan, I’m a barbarian.

She shook her head and stood. “No, I’ll be fine. Thanks for tonight. For listening. For being a friend. Thank you.”

Her bright blue demonic eyes stared into his yellow ones.

Should I?

I SHOULD!

Heart pounding in her chest, she quickly kissed his cheek, wished him a good night, and turned to return to her camp, giggling like a giddy schoolgirl.

Rolan stood frozen for several moments before he lifted a hand to where she had kissed him.

“Good gods, she’s going to be the death of me.”

[dustfeel]

𝐓𝐨𝐨 𝐂𝐥𝐨𝐬𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐒𝐮𝐧 (Icarus/Anti Tulpar AU)

Summary

Life at the Icarus was never easy, everyone seem to be at edge, just waiting to snap and push people around because they feel like it, they've been working together for years though the loathing only gets bigger. Now, things may be getting worse, of course it was a matter of time before Curly got tired of the crew and crashed the ship, and everyone else is losing it.

(Anti Tulpar/Icarus AU created by Cosmospaghetti on X. OC content, don't like don't read, it's first pov though, so can be read as reader too. Will follow the storytelling of the game but include a bit of my own headcanons.)

Chapter 9. 4 𝐦𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐡𝐬 𝐚𝐟𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐜𝐫𝐚𝐬𝐡

— ★ —

I am sitting in the lounge room, at the dining table. Right now, I'm just enjoying my mouthwash, the bitterful taste bring me a moment of peace that I haven't felt in a long time.

I take a single sip from the bottle, and by a sip I mean I chugged down at least half of it in a long gulp. Letting the dizzy sensation consume me, I take a look at the big monitor in the lounge's living room, the screen is stuck in a sunrise since the crash, and Anya is dancing in front of it.

The dance, even if it's beautiful and hipnotizing, is also really dangerous if you consider she don't let go of her sharp axe. She's killing it with these moves though, and the music is not that bad despite the fact it is playing on repeat for hours.

"You're thinking about drinking it, Miyuki?" Swansea's voice startle me, startle me bad. My heart jumped for a second before I realize it's just him. "Already did, this is my third bottle." He nodded, but I notice the slight worry on his face. "Right, just don't drown yourself on it. Also, I went to check on Curly and noticed his painkillers are almost over, in a few days we'll have nothing to deal with his pain."

"Really? That's weird, we had a good amount last time I checked." I let my mind work for a while, then my mind finally come up with a solution. "I've been thinking, not all medicine was in my office, a good part was in the storage locker at the hallway. It's all foamed up now, but if we cut through the foam in an angle that don't hit the ship, we'll have meds for months."

"That's wonderful! Let me do it, not to be mean but you're too drunk right now, I'm afraid you'll accidentally send us all in the space void." Swansea says as a joke, the half-truth underlying it is clear though. "Haha, don't worry, it's true. Anya have the axe, you could try to convice her to give it to you, I'm sure she won't mind."

Just then, the chair beside me creaks with the movement of someone pulling it. Me and Swansea turn our heads to see who it is, it was Daisuke, and the moment I turned to him he immediately laid his head on my shoulder and wrapped his arms around me. "You're drunk." Is the first thing I say to him. "Daisuke, are you okay? Do you need water?" Swansea asked, his eyebrows furrowing in concern.

"It's none of your business, old man." Daisuke replied harshly, too harsh for my taste. "Daisuke." I say in a warning tone, what get a small pout out of him. "Sorry, Swansea. I don't want water, but thank you." He said, now in a soft tone. "It's okay, kiddo. I'll go talk to Anya, go easy on the drinks, you two."

Swansea left after that, walking towards Anya who's still dancing. He's always so nice and collected, even if we're all assholes sometimes. "Miyuki?" Daisuke snap my attention back to reality. "Yes?" I say, putting an arm around him and pulling him even closer. "Are you happy with me?" The question caught me off guard, I can't even form an answer.

"As in, are you with me out of pity? You're always so distant, especially when I try to be close to you." He explains. "Dai, you're the last person I'd pity. And don't call me distant." I put some distance between our bodies. "Right, I forgot to not use that word, my bad. But, see, this is what I'm talking about! I start talking about feelings and you suddenly pull away." Daisuke take a sip from his own bottle of mouthwash.

Alright, okay, this is when we break the cycle or something like that, right? "Look, I'm new to this relationship thing, we both are, and I don't want to make you feel like you can't talk to me without me pushing you away. C'mon, I can do that, tell me what got you sentimental today." I know it's not much, but it's a start.

"Just thinking about my mom, about us. I wonder if she misses me." Daisuke let out a sigh. It really pains me to see him like that, he seems so sad. I shyly open my arms and offer him a hug, he don't hesitate to accept and rest his head on my chest. "She definitely miss you, and she'll be so happy when you're back."

"For certain, when we're back I'll want to show you off to her. I'll cook a nice dinner for us so I can introduce you properly." He says with a smile. "Fine, but then we'll fly to France for you to meet my dad." We're so caught up on our own world that we don't even cared that Anya smashed the sunrise monitor. We saw, yes, but we didn't mind at that moment.

"We'll get out of this. Then, we'll have our own restart, together." Daisuke scoots closer to me, closing his eyes. In that moment, that was enough, hold him was enough, we didn't say out loud, but the intimacu we shared spoke for itself. We loved eachother. "Yes, we'll get through this together."

— ★ —

OKAY I HAVE TO HURRY MY PHONE IS 10% I DIDNT EVEN BETA READ THIS SO YEAH ENJOY THE CHAPTER YALL, I HOPE YALL LIKE READING AS MUCH AS I LIKED WRITTING AND SEE YALL NEXT WEEK

[sleepdeprivedsimp234]

How I think different natural disasters (a long with other forms of severe weather) affect the states cuz why not:

Wildfires/fires in general (not house fires tho @simpyfrog i was mostly joking about that lol. Pls give me my fire privileges back pls pls pls-)

They will get burns all over their body, and the worse the fire, the worse the burns. Also the bigger the fire, the bigger the burns. The West (+Texas) have the worst burns/burn scars. Also sometimes breathing is a no and they will choke on smoke. And their vision will be kinda blurry and from the outside their eyes will look a bit cloudy (how cloudy depends on the amount of smoke).

Earthquakes:

Balance is a no. The state affected will be VERY shaky and be in a lot of pain. Along with bruising, they will have a long gash across their back. Alaska and California have the worst of this.

Severe Thunderstorms:

The states don't get too affected by them, but sometimes they will receive a big enough shock from the lightning that they get knocked out and are left with some burns that look like lightning streaks. Also sometimes if there is power outages, let's take Texas for example, he wont be able to use certain electric things, such as light switches, microwaves, electric stoves, ect...(tho he found a way around it and wears leather gloves if he needs too). Also, I'm gonna do a silly and say that they can shock people to tease them.

Hurricanes:

Throwing up water, sometimes blood. The state will be very cold and kinda clammy and will feel like they are drowning. They will be VERY dizzy and throw up a lot. They will most likely pass out at some point and wake up covered in bruises, lightning-strike burns, some cuts, and other various small injuries. Florida, Louisiana, Texas, and basically any Gulf Coast state has had the worst of these. (Texas and Loui tho- the Google machine told me that Galveston, Harvey and Katrina were the most costly ones-)

Tornado

Dizzy yes. Balance no. The affected state will be covered in bruises (the bigger the damaged area, the bigger the bruise.). Blurry vision and a migraine also will occur. Texas, Oklahoma, and the Midwest have the worst of these (Tornado Alley).

Acid Rain:

Again, they don't really get too affected by this, they will just have some pretty rough looking burns. NY (haha this fool thought he would be safe from me-), NH, VT, and ME have the worst burn scars from this.

Dust Storms:

I don't have much for this one lol. Im thinking grainy-feeling skin and a really really dry throat, but I don't really have anything else.

Heat waves:

Fever, a lot of sweating, and dizziness that can lead to passing out. Texas, Loui, and Sippi are currently getting BAKED and not in the good way :(

==========================================

(Now take some weather quote thingys (⁠◍⁠•⁠ᴗ⁠•⁠◍⁠)

~

(During the Great Galveston Hurricane)

Gov, coming to check on Texas: Hey Texas are you doing alright?

Texas:*looks like he's gonna throw up* Y-Yes. Don't worry about me.

Gov: *not believing him* Are you sure?

Texas: Y-yea-*throws up a bunch of water*

Gov: Thought so.

~

California walking downstairs to get some water during an earthquake:

California: *proceeds to fill down the stairs and lay there for 15 minutes*

~

(after a really bad acid rain)

Mass: New York get yer ass outta the tree and let me take care of the burns before they get infected!!

NY: No f*ck off!! They don't even hurt!!

Mass: You were literally on the verge of tears, moron!! So quit lyin' and get down here right now!!

NY: No go take care of NH and VT!!

Mass: I already did, and they weren't as damn stubborn as you're being right now!! *has already texted Texas to come get him out of the tree*

NY: I don't give a sh*t how stubborn they were!! Also I ain't stubborn-*screams when two arms randomly grab him from behind*

Texas: *is now holding him captive* Yes you are. You are a stubborn little Yankee.

NY: Texas you damn traitor!! Let me go!!!

Texas: No can do, partner. Yer comin' down and letting yer brother help ya. He's gonna be gentle, so calm down!!

NY: *sigh-whine* I give up....

Texas: Atta boy.

~

(during a fire)

Cali: Hehe. ✨arson✨

~

(during Katrina)

Loui: I'm fine sha.

Florida: *hugging him close* Sir no you most definitely are not!! You are way too cold-

Loui: *throws up blood and water* Uh sorry bout dat sha...

Florida: And you're sick, mi amor!! Go to bed right now!!

Loui: B-but-

Florida: No buts!! Bed. Now. I will drag you there if I have to-

Loui: *passes tf out*

Florida: GODDANGIT-

~

(during the heatwave that is currently killing us all-)

Gov: *walks into Texas's room and sees Louisiana passed tf out, Sippi on the verge of it, and Texas just laying on his bed and staring at the ceiling and contemplating on playing Russian roulette with a pistol*

Gov: *walks back out*

~

[silent-raven13]

Little Hobie variant

Earth 138-10

Spider Band were on a mission as they saw one anomaly tearing down a building.

Peter: Guys, save the civilians! Me and Miguel would handle this! -He swings to stop the large anomaly-

Miguel already fighting off the anomaly with his talons. The rest of the Spider gang were swinging catching civilians left and right. Sometimes they play a game on who save the most.

Hobie grab five at a time: That's ten! -he got to a safe area putting them all together-

Pavtri was able to save a bus filled with students: That's twenty three! -he looks in the buss counting- Yup! 23!

Gwen grabs two: This makes sixteen!

Miles using his Spider-man strength to lift a heavy block from the ground hearing people: I got one, two, three, four... I got twenty -the people came out underneath the rumble.-

Hobie swing next to him: Luv, you really want to win.

Miles giggles: Sure thing!

Everyone was doing their part in saving from the chaos of the anomaly. When Peter and Miguel were able to take it down, the clean up crew came by.

Pavtri happily bounce: Haha, I win! -having the highest numbers from all of them-

Gwen sips a cold bottle of water: Looks like we're doing Karaoke night! -she winks at Miles-

Miles groans: Ya'll just want me to sing! -He's not even good!- I'ma go inspect some more civilians.

Hobie chuckles: Luv, you sing amazing.

Miles snorted: Your just saying that to make me happy! -he walks along his boyfriend- You know I'm a terrible singer.

Hobie: So? I love it. You always show so much passion. -He leans over trying to give him a kiss- C'mere.

Miles giggles feeling his boyfriend's arms around his waist pulling him closer for a kiss: Bae! Not now, we gotta find survivors.

Hobie pouts under his mask: Awe, luv.

Then the two heard: Help! Help! Someone help us! We're stuck! -The Spider-men's Spider Senses kicked in- Help!

Miles quickly rushes over to the voice: Hey? Can anyone hear me?"

A child's voice shouted: Over here!

Then a cries of children: HELP! Our mom is trap! Help us!

Hobie spotted a massive piles of stone from a building: Sunflower, they're over there. -The two quickly went over to lift up the large pieces of rocks.-

An opening slit from the two Spider-man lifting the large piece of wall had a group of children coming out. Five children with one older girl holding a baby, they were covered in debris from the crumble walls. All of them being black children looking in panic. The oldest girl cried: Help! My little brother is under there with our ma! Our mama is injured! -she had a thick Patios accent being so scared-

The other children cries out loud in panic: Save them! Mama! Please! -they were tugging on their legs with panic in their eyes-

Hobie took over: Luv, I got this! Go under and save them! -he uses all his strength lifting up the large piece of rock-

Miles nodded as he went into the opening: You kids stay here! Don't worry I'ma save your mom and brother -he wants underneath having to crotch down- Hello? Is anyone there!

Hobie holds the large wall then he said: Lyla, darling... looks like I need back up.

Lyla: On it! I'll let Gwen and Pav know your location!

Miles still underneath the massive rumble seeing the family were possibly buried by the top floor: Hello? -he kept moving being careful to not cause the walls to come down- Hello?

A child's voice rings his ear: Ova here! Help! My ma... she got hit by the head! -Miles quickly follow the voice being surprised to find a little boy lifting the top part of the crumble walls with all his might while an unconscious woman lay at his side. The woman had a bloody mark on her head-

The boy cries: Help! My ma... she's not waking up -his arms shakes as he cries being so scared. The little dark skinned boy look like he's in rough shape, cuts and marks on his face and arms- Please... I don't wanna die!

Miles quickly took over: Don't worry, little guy. I got this. I'm here to save you and your mom. -He holds the crumble wall seeing the little boy gawking at him- Watch your head kid... and your mom's. -The little boy quickly lay his body on his mom's head and cover his own with his arms-

The Spider-man slowly got up using all his strength to lift the massive wall from above, this causes a bit of rumbles and debris to fall. Hobie quickly toss the other large wall to let Miles from below to lift all the massive weight. Hobie shouted at the kids: Move out of the way! -He quickly grab all the children to move away-

Gwen and Pavtri quickly came with medics at their side. Gwen said: We came as fast as we could!

Miles tosses the upper broken walls and other rocks leaving a massive opening for the two survivors: See, told you, I'll save you. -Giving a smile under his mask. The bright light had Miles looking angelic in the boy's eyes. The Spider-man picks the two up having to jump out of the hole-

Pavtri gasps: Miles, you're safe! Oh thank goodness! -He went to help him with the woman's body- Is she okay?

Miles nodded: She hit her head from a rock. -He holds the little boy in his arms who seems to hug him so tight- We need to have her go into med-bay.

Then the children came crying: MOM! HOBIE!

Miles and Pavtri blinks a couple of times: Huh, Hobie? -Then Miles got a good look at the little boy, no doubt about it. It's a small version of Hobie Brown. The little boy have big twists out on his massive coily hair, his inky dark eyes filled with tears as he sniffs, and got a band-aid on the bridge of his nose. Yup, that's Hobie Brown- Your Hobie!

The little boy nodded wiping the snot from his nose before he hugs Miles tightly with his arms around his neck: Mmhhmm. -he's being shy-

The oldest girl spoke up: Hobie, come on! We have to get checked! The white Spider-lady said we have to get our injuries checked!

The little Hobie shook his head: No! I'ma stay right here!

Pavtri hums: Looks like he got a crush on you.

Miles: Stop that. He just sees me as a hero. I save him and his family -Then saw his boyfriend and Gwen- Hey, guys! I guess you figured it out, huh? -Gwen giggling while Hobie leans with his hands in his vest pockets.-

Gwen giggles: Hahaha, Hobie already figured out when he saw the oldest sister.

Spider-Punk shrugs: Reminded me lot of me sis... then I noticed my sis use to have braids like that and a pink dress. -He noticed the other siblings being his own sibling variants, too- So this is the ole chap that risk his life for his fam, hmm? -Being curious at the little version of him-

The little boy scowls turning at the Spider-Punk: What are you lookin' at, yuh Bumboclatt ediat! -Miles' eyes widen while Spider-Punk's eyes mask show no reaction, but he was grinning underneath his mask-

The oldest sister gasps: HOBIE! You mad! That's rude! Apologize!

Little Hobie huffs: NO! -then glares at Spider-Punk- Batty hole!

Pavtri looks in shock: He got a mouth!

Miles saw Gwen and Hobie cracking up: That's not nice, Hobie. You should apologize, he help me to save you. -The little boy looks at him with those puppy eyes and a pout-

Little Hobie: No! -he snuggles against Miles feeling safe-

The other siblings said: Hobie, you're such a baby!

Little Hobie cries: No, I'm not!

Spider-punk chuckles: Alright. Alright, leave the baby alone. -Getting a nasty glare from the little boy- He wants to be with his hero.

Miles pouted at him, but ignores him: How about we go together? You breathe in all this debris and that could lead to dangerous health risk.

Little Hobie nodded: Okay.

When the small group went to medic team, they saw how much damages some civilians gotten. So many of them were taken to the nearest hospital. Some Spider-heroes stayed to make sure they were getting the attention they need. Miles being one to voice his opinion: So she can't be taken care of because she doesn't have insurance! Are you insane! She got like six kids! You're telling me you're not gonna help her! -Already yelling at the white doctor who seems to avoid the black woman-

Spider-Punk was with the other children seeing Miles looking pissed off: Pav... Gwendy watch the lil rugrats for me. -He went over to be the big bad scary Spider-man, he heard the doctor scoffs-

The white doctor snorted: Then it's her fault to have so many kids when she knew she couldn't afford insurance. Honestly, mothers on their wellfare are always the ones begging for drugs or free hand- the doctor quickly shut up when Spider-punk slams his hand on the walls making a hole in it. Something in him filled him with anger, hearing this doctor shitting on a mother of six for being poor and black got him to remember his own childhood-

Spider-Punk's voice low: What was that? Your going to deny her because of the color of her skin, hmm?

Miles being pump: And your job as a doctor is to help those in need!

The doctor scowls at the two: I will call security and have her kicked out if you two don't calm down! I'm doing my job!

Hobie was about to break this man's bones until the two heard: You two that's enough. We'll take them to our medical facility seeing how this doctor is refusing service to them. -Miguel stood wearing his Spider-man suit looking menacing, then he glares down at the doctor- I do hope your ready for a massive lawsuit

Miles happily claps: Yes! Fuck him up, tío! -He hugs Miguel being happy at the way the doctor look a bit terrified.-

Hobie pouted under his mask being jealous. But the three noticed fluffy twist out hair below, seeing the Little Hobie scowling at the doctor: Bombaclatt! -he kicks the doctor in the shin then hugs Miles' left leg-

The doctor jumps on one foot in pain: Ah! That's it! You are all out of here! Get out! Security!

Miles pick up the little Hobie who was sticking his tongue out and giving the finger at the doctor: You don't scare me, pussyhole!

Spider-Punk laughs along: Bloodclot! -He curses along his little variant-

Miguel rolled his eyes as he had the other Spider-heroes help move the Mrs. Brown and the children to their medical facilities.

Back at Spider Society, all the Browns were wearing Gizmo to help them stay in longs period of time. Little Hobie was being checked by Doctors the same with his siblings. His mother went into a coma after they took her to get her brain scanned. She suffers from a head injury going into a concussion then a coma which causes the kids to cry.

The older sister crying: What are we going to do? Mama is all we have left. -Gwen and Pavtri stood being worried-

Spider-punk rubs his neck: I dunno. -It gave him flash backs of his own childhood, his own struggles.-

Miles was with Little Hobie and the doctor: Looks like he's fine. Minor cuts, but nothing major. I do need them to stay here for a couple of days to check on their lungs, especially the baby. It's dangerous at their age to be breathing all that debris.

Miles nodded: Alright, I was worried because they were covered in that stuff, too.

The doctor nodded: Then we must be on watch and see if any of them have a forms of irritation. -He saw the Little Hobie wipe his nose with his arm-

Miles took a tissue to wipe his nose: Don't do that, Hobie. Here, blow. -Little Hobie blows seeing how the Spider-man clean his nose with a tissue. His dark inky eyes gleam at his hero- Good, nińo.

When they got back to the other children, Miles had the chance to finally remove his Spider-man mask. His pretty face got the Brown children looking at him with shock: You like us! -They haven't seen a superhero like them, especially little Hobie was at awe. His hand touches Miles' cheek being amazed-

Little Hobie: You like me!

Miles chuckles: Hahaha, you mean black? Yeah! There's a few of us as Spider-man.

Pavtri awed: Awwwweee, how cute. Little Hobie is admiring you!

Gwen nudging Spider-Punk: Ehh? Ehh! Looks like Hobies are meant to like Miles. -she wiggle her eyebrows-

Spider-Punk finally remove his mask: Oi, what about me, you lil sprogs? -They gasps seeing his face-

The older sister: Wow, you look like Hobie!

Spider-Punk chuckles: I am Hobie!

Little Hobie scowls: Your not Hobie! I am! -He wiggles to get down, Miles let him. The little kid went to kick Spider-punk in shin then rushes to be picked up by Miles again- I am HOBIE!

Hobie 138b winced: Ah, my bloody shin! -he hops in one foot in pain- Your gonna get it, you lil brat.

Little Hobie stick his tongue at him: AHH! -He snuggles against Miles- He's mean! I don't like him!

Miles calms him down: Awe, don't worry, Hobie. I'll protect you!

Hobie gasps: LUV! YOU ARE MINE!

Little Hobie gave a wicked smirk at him having Gwen and Pavtri laugh at their punk friend.

[halfdeadwallfly]

List 5 things that make you happy, then put this in the askbox for the last 10 people who liked or reblogged something from you! Get to know your mutuals and followers✨

!!! (I realized too late this is five things, ten ppl :(((( sorry abt that one.... Feel free not to read but I wanted to talk abt them haha )

My acappella group--- I was in a lot of groups and things in high school, and I listened to a lot of sentimental graduation talks about people finding their home and their family in those places. It always made me so sad, because I never did. But even though I'm not close friends with everyone in acappella now, I already feel so much more comfortable and at home with it already than I ever did in high school. I love the people all so much, and I'm so happy to be around them every time we go to rehearsal and every time we perform. Being in acappella has been the highlight of my year honestly, and I'm so grateful for it. I love the music, I love to direct and lead and sing, and the people are just so so so kind. Genuinely. Even when I feel anxious or stressed or I feel like I need to hide, I know that I can work through it, because I really just trust that outside of my own social anxiety, these people are kind and genuine. I love them so much and being around them makes me so happy.

Making flower chains -- pure pure fun. Can do anything you like during. Or nothing. Listen to a podcast. Listen to the buggies. Like down. Run around. Frolick. I love finding a good patch of flowers with long stems, esp if there's multiple kinds, and just really investing myself in them. You can find little buggies and greet them and love them so much when you are in the grass and such, and it is super nice to see them all. My favorites are rolly pollies but I also like snails and slugs a lot and also I think ants are cute and beetles and worms so I always try to help out the worms if they get lost

Writing poetry -- very good to do, do not always recommend rereading. Do recommend taking poetry 1 with [redacted] at my school bc he is the greatest and so kind and helpful. I love writing poetry even if it does make me hate myself for being too pretentious sometimes. Sometimes I like what I write and it is nice to talk about with people and get thoughts and opinions

Reading abt gender theory -- Genuinely life-changing thing taking that intro to wgss class this year lolollll. Maybe it is silly of me, but that class really made me rethink myself and where I want to go with my life. There's so much more that I want to read and learn and I'm almost anxious that I can't do it fast enough

Looking at the stars and clouds -- a good one. It makes me happy. I am very small. Sky is beautiful like art. It's the same and it's never the same. I'm getting tired sky is still up there. Space is very very very cool. Clouds are very very very cool

Cicadas -- BEAUTIFUL CREATURES!!!!! they have been so loud this year and I had to wear headphones outside while watering the plants for a while, but I also get to see all of them out there!!!!!!!!!! And different kinds too!!!! They are so beautiful and lovely and it makes me so happy to see them and hear them too most of the time. When I was little they would always be dying under the trees at recess and the boys would mess around with them when they couldn't fly away, so I had to go make them stop so they wouldn't be dying while being tormented by ten year old boys. I was always very mad when they did that and I'm always still super sad to see cicadas in the midst of dying when they can't fly anymore. But I love their singing and their songs and their nice nice eyes, and I like to pick them up if they let me and have them crawl all over my arms because their legs are sticky and nice. They're the prettiest little bugs and I love them

Melted brie cheese -- yummy.

Putting on pajamas after work -- I work in a warehouse with no ac which is ok but kinda sucks in the summer, esp when it's super humid like it is now where I am. I also package coffee that often is flavored with really strong syrups, and is often ground, so I almost always leave work smelling intensely like pancake syrup (less nice than it sounds after nine hours) and covered in gritty coffee. It's a good job and I like it a lot actually, but boy by the end of a day when the temperature is high, it's super tiring. When I get home I just take off all my work clothes and turn off the lights and lie in the dark, and it's so nice and calming and I really love getting to do that, and relax into a calm cool late afternoon.

Drinking coffee with real cream -- Aka. super duper yummy. I get to work before everyone else in the morning, so I make the first coffee pot and I always make me and the other early packaging person's fav blend, and it's basically my favorite part of the morning, watching the sun rise while the coffee brews and coming back to my work area to greet the morning window spiders. At home in the summer, I love making iced coffee with milk and adding just an eeeeensy bit of cream, it's so tasty and it makes it all nutty and buttery and rich, and it brings out all the good flavors.

Listening to podcasts -- thank you podcasts you make me so happy. Right now thank you tanis for driving me insane and thank you wolf 359 for helping me feel calm and safe when I'm stressed. Special thank you to zach valenti because his voice in particular is like really soothing and anyway that sounds weird but like you know what I mean. Past thank you to potterless for getting me into podcasts and referring me to the bright sessions, which was the first audio drama I listened to and got sooo into. Special thank you to lauren shippen for being like my favorite podcaster ever oh my gosh, and honorable mention to briggon snow for being in so many of those lauren shippen related shows. Thank you wtnv for coming near me so I could see the attic. Thank you to literally every show I've listened to. Basically everybody in my life thinks the podcast thing is kinda weird and laughs a bit when I get too into it, but honestly this is like. A really important thing to me now. I love podcasts a lot and they make me very very happy to get to listen to

[steeiydan]

OC-OCTOBER/30 DAY MONSTERBOY CHALLENGE 2023 -DAY 1 - HARPY alright! time for my yearly OC-October! fused with the monsterboy challenge again because i just didn't have the energy for two challenges this year, and as usual for the past couple days, i might finish it a couple days late. but i'll wrap it up before the new year as always! for the prompts, i've changed up some things too. there's just some monster species i don't really care about or that don't fit in my fictional worlds, so while i'm mainly going by the actual prompts, i feel no shame in doing different stuff for others lol also, i'm staying in my comfort zone as usual, anime pretty boys looking to the left are just what i'm at least somewhat comfortable with haha i'm gonna try and be creative with some of the prompts too - like this one! because i can! let me! and some of their names are subject to change if i find a better one! so, for day 1 - here's Alba!

Alba - 20 - Gay

A basilisk/cockatrice harpy. He lives in a well in the Demon Realm's capital. It's long been abandoned and empty, there's no water in there anymore, and he's made his little lair down there. He love's shiny things and has a little horde of gold and jewelry, though he's mostly using it for actually... buying things. While somewhat scrappy, he's definitely civilized and can handle interactions with demons and other species just fine. He's a bit wary of humans, though.

Alba's gaze can petrify people for a certain amount of time, though they turn back to normal in a while, depending on how long he looked at them it can be anywhere from fifteen minutes to several hours or days. When not using his petrification power, his eyes are yellow. He also can breathe out a highly toxic gas, and his bite is venomous, but unless he's fighting or hunting, he's pretty tame and not that dangerous. He can also petrify himself if looking at his reflection, though that doesn't last long, either.

Like all harpies in the Demon Realms, he's male but can lay eggs - in the human world, it's the other way round and all harpies (and mermaids and nagas) are female (and reproduce with each other)

All in all, he's not unpleasant to be around, and if he has no reason to fight you, he's pretty friendly and talkative. He likes getting help with getting ready (wings instead of arms are kind of impractical sometimes) and also is a bit of a horndog (mainly cause apparently, Basilisks were associated with the the deadly sin of Lust lol and because lore-wise, reproduction is kinda slow for them cause most of the eggs won't hatch) when he's in heat. Also, he really likes being around nagas, and gets along better with them than with most other harpies.

[the-travelling-witch]

guess who's alive? exactly, me!! :D *slumps down and never gets up* (sorry in advance this will be quite the long ask >_<)

i get the feeling of fried brain, my session just finished ;-; #neveragain (wish i could say it for real tho) it's not a problem if you can't add much ahah, really, so don't worry :3

i feel you, my rbf isn't of any help but luckily those who receive my love know it and about the rest i don't care °v° and as i said (i think) as long as you're genuine i don't think that's a problem, honestly is what matters ^u^

yeah i noticed the game and noticed only now i forgot to ask you a question but now head is empty so whatever 🫠 if you say so then brb gonna go buy pencils for xiao and you so you can fill each other's skin with drawings and writings eheh~

me too honestly, i just need to relax, eat good food and sleep for hours trapping the indigo menace in a cuddling hug >:3 for movies i'm down bad for pixar but indie and artsy sounds good too 👀 and slow dancing at night is just something sooo cute and sosksiskdjsjskwj i'm down bad pt2

we can agree that villainous fictional men >>>>>>>>> goody two-shoes hero, but morally grey characters deserve a mention of honor, a whole hall just for them @^@

NOW, ONTO THE NEW MODERN SERIES FIC FUCK I'M SO EIDJWKSNDKWJWOSJSIHS

childe you cocky little menace with that shit-eating grin 🤺 i love this type of grin it sends me on cloud nine but also actives my fighting spirit lmao

i loved every word and the implicit mention of scara's partner and childe's being colleagues, what a chaos putting those two in the same room because of their lovers (saw the other asks, died of laughter)

it had me going 👀 when reader went "one coffee for the mystery man" LIKE MAN THE AUDACITY i would have prayed the universe to swallow me especially after ginger's reply folsdoodsj so good really

also, a curiosity: since you mentioned yanqing (my son <3) does this mean that gi and hsr men will interact more often, being in the same universe? tbh knowing some characters either they will get along well or a big fight would start the moment they see each other pfft-

anyway, i think that i covered everything so that's all! as always, take care, drink water and coffee, eat healthy and sleep well at night, you can do this! and good luck with uni :3

bye bye~

— ❄️

hii great to see you back and good job on surviving!! i’ll put the answer under a cut for brevity’s sake haha

well i hope i sound and look genuine bc sometimes i feel like i don’t and if i try to sound more excited, people would probably think i’m faking it; but yeah my friends probably know by now how i act so i think i should be good :>

don’t force yourself to participate if you can’t come up with something, i promise i still have enough material to go through (me, typing a novel for a moot’s entry /aff); whenever i doodle on my arm i normally just use ball point pens or eyeliners but i also saw people using like actual colours for painting/body paint and i really want to try that; having someone drag a brush and paint over your back must be such a funny feeling <3

i’m not watching a lot of films right now, so i can’t say what my favourite genre is but i do love a good animation (i still need to see the new spiderman aaahhh); speaking of going to the cinema: there’s sth so special about going there during daytime and coming back out when it’s dark outside; imagine walking home after the film with your fave, he gives you his jacket against the chill of the evening and you laugh and joke as you discuss the film you just saw until he gently grabs your hand and starts twirling you around under the light of a street lamp… *sigh* what a dream (frantically scribbles into my notes for the modern au hshsh)

i just think villains and morally grey characters just are much more fun to explore; would i want hazbin hotel’s alastor to be real or would i like him if i met him? no because he is/was a serial killer, but in fiction? fascinating, intriguing, fun to explore; fiction just gives us the means to explore these morally not so cool actions and mindsets without most of the consequences, and i love that (also it really is sexy if a bad guy drops everything for their love; who wouldn’t want to be their partner’s priority; also also, villains with their own set of moral code, like ‘sure i’ll burn down a city but hit a woman? i would never’)

childe activates my fighting spirit in general, like come over here and let’s bicker, you gorgeous idiot, and maybe i’ll kiss you afterwards <3 and also yes that grin… it might be here bc of the writer’s bias…

i just had to make them colleagues!! please just imagine them gossiping about their bfs after work or during the double date the readers are just talking the night away whereas childe and scara just have this icy atmosphere around them, but the second their partners look over they melt bc they’re just so in love dorks, all of them

and omg yes, thank you for mentioning it, i’ve been dying for someone to point it out: it’s official, it’s a genshin/honkai shared au!! it’ll be mostly genshin with some hsr characters but yes!! they’re sharing the same universe, they will be interacting (now we wait for someone to mention the company vizion is signed under… i wonder who works there… /silly)

thank you, make sure to take care of yourself as well!! <3

[flydotnet]

A Storm in a Bathtub

WHUMPTOBER 2023, DAY 25: “You’re not delivering a perfect body to the grave.” Storm | Buried Alive | “They’re not breathing!”

Perhaps combining "Storm" and "Kojiro Hyuga" was easy, yes. Perhaps I did originally only intend on using the prompt figuratively, but ended up making it a little literal too.

Also don't be fooled, this isn't an actual sickfic as much as it's me wanting to see Maki dominate in a bed. But alas, I decided this series wasn't gonna have E-rated content, and also, combining my whump and my smut isn't really my thing.

Writing this one was hard for all of the lamest reasons of the world, so I'm not going to bother you with them lol. Simply put, sometimes, you have days where inspiration isn't really here, and with challenges needing daily input from me, it shows more than usual haha

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A Storm in a Bathtub

Summary: Maki has never had to care for someone on her own; but now that she has to, it's a dire, dire thing.

Fandom : Captain Tsubasa

Word Count: 1K words

AO3 version available here.

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People don’t go outside when there’s a typhoon outside. It’s a true statement everywhere, but especially here in Okinawa, where the tropical climate and proximity to the ocean waters have made the intense rains and winds quite the sight to behold from the inside of your house.

So, nobody goes outside when there’s a typhoon outside.

Except for the guy Maki’s interested in, because why wouldn’t it be?

She’s been frozen for a couple seconds for now with a drippling wet Hyuga that she’s barely been able to catch in her arms. Her brain’s blanking out and all she’s now registering is the frigidness of the typhoon water soaking her own clothes and the heat that exudes from his skin.

Wait, he’s feeling hot?

This snaps Maki back to reality: she must help him out or he may get seriously ill. But what can she do to fix whatever this mess is, especially since she has no idea what’s even happened here? Why was he outside, what happened to him and, most importantly (for all the wrong reasons), why did he reach out to her of all people? It’s not like she’s any sort of nurse, let alone someone committed to him (or is she?).

Well, if he entrusted her with such a vulnerable state, then she must uphold it – and she won’t fail.

Her first thought is to draw a nice, warm bath so he can at least get out of those awfully cold clothes. Fortunately, her bathroom is on the ground floor, so all she has to do is to drag him there – which isn’t too difficult, even if she’s never felt the weight of his muscles as much as she has now. He’s clearly more difficult to log around than her other friends.

(Well, the comparison may not be that pertinent to make, since she also doesn’t stare at her friends’ musculature with a weird mix of fascination and envy).

It takes time to fill out the tub, so in the meantime, she takes care of what must be done: strip down the guy she’s interested in, without his consent because he’s barely conscious to begin with. It feels bizarre to do so, but she doesn’t take her time and doesn’t focus on it, having to keep the temperature of the bathwater in check.

The only thing on Hyuga’s body that gets her attention is a wound on his left leg. It’s been bleeding for some time, judging by how difficult it was to take his sock off, but it doesn’t seem that deep. A bit of cleaning, some disinfectant, a quick bandaging and it should be all good. It’s almost reassuring, how confident she is about it.

By the time the bath is finally ready, he still hasn’t stirred up, but Maki nonetheless drags him as delicately as possible in there, mindful the entire time, making sure his injured leg sticks out of there. It looks weird and she’s still slightly embarrassed about this whole… situation (not being able to get consent is really getting on her mind, even if she knows it’s for the best).

The wound is as easy as she thought it’d be to take care of. Going through the motions like she has so many times before helps keep herself grounded and in control of a situation that could otherwise be spiralling out of her control: a quick wash of the wound with water straight out of the tap to clean out all remaining blood, a compress to stem whatever flow is left (in this case, and much to their shared fortune, not much) a doll-up of disinfectant to make sure it doesn’t get any worse (which, considering from what layer of overly hydrated Hell Hyuga must be coming from…), and a swift wrapping of gauze around it. There, all good!

Once that’s done, all she has left is to make sure the… water doesn’t get too cold nor too hot. It’s a real balancing act, but considering she’s stuck here with only the boy she fancies and the pouring rain hitting the sole, tiny window of her small bathroom, she quite literally has very little else to do.

Also, what else could she be doing? Perhaps she should prepare medicine? Okay, that sounds good… but what? Painkillers? Anything else? Does she even have anything that isn’t painkillers in her cabinet ? Good question, she never buys medicine…

The water makes a sloshing noise, prompting her to turn her head back to the bathtub – only to cross eyes with a barely awake Hyuga, who seems a little bothered. Before he can realize she was losing her shit, she decides to put herself together – also, she needs answers, let’s not forget that.

“You’re finally awake!” She says loudly enough for him to understand it even through the haze.

“Maki…?” His voice is hoarse, but that could also be because he was taking one hell of a nap.

He looks around more confused than a bird who fell of the nest.

“The hell I’m doin’ here…?”

In a weird consequence of confirming he’s alive, the stress she’s pent up finally finishes getting to her, right as it exits her in a burst.

“You happen to have collapsed in front of my house, asshole! Can I know how that happened, huh?!”

Hyuga stares back at her with confusion first, then annoyance, and finally, a normal-ish face.

“I dun really remember,” he tells her, scratching his half-wet hair. “Guess practice got outta hand and I was trapped in the storm.”

She sighs. Getting answers out of him isn’t urgent, or at least, not on that topic.

“How are you feeling?” She asks, voice much gentler, as she kneels next to him.

“Like shit,” he snorks, but he smiles. “You dragged me from your door to here?”

“Yep sir. You’re not light, you know that?”

“It’s the muscles,” he chuckles. “Thanks, by the way. I owe you a ton.”

“You’re welcome. Just don’t do it to me ever again!”

“Can’t promise, but I’ll try,” he laughs again, before getting slightly (just slightly) embarrassed. “Now, uh… Can I get out of this stupid bathtub?”

“Of course!” She stares at the pile of discarded, still soaking-wet clothes on the floor. “Just… Gimme two minutes!”

She exits the room in search for some elusive dry clothes that’d fit him – she better find some soon, or else this may get a lot more awkward than she’s already experienced so far.

[reputationmunson]

Fluff request! Eddie calming reader down from a panic attack - initially noticing that something is wrong when they start to get all distant and stuff, subtly taking them somewhere quiet and calm and just really kindly talking them down

(And then maybe a little kiss at the end, at least a big ol hug)

thank you for the request! I'm sorry this took me a few days. I've been in the mood to write but every time I open a new document I just stare at it haha

Breathe | Eddie Munson x reader

summary: Eddie comforts you after you get overwhelmed at one of his shows

content: panic attack, eddie being the best boyfriend, no pronouns, petnames (babe, baby), use of y/n (just once i think), swearing, fluff

word count: [762 words]

The hideout was completely packed tonight. You were super stoked about the crowd for Corroded Coffin, but you were also feeling overwhelmed. At first, you were fine. Big crowds weren’t really your thing, but when Eddie came out on stage, you were one hundred percent focused on him and drowned everything else out.

Now, you have Eddie standing next to you with his arm around your shoulder while he’s talking to a group of people. You’re pressed up next to him with absolutely no space, and while you love being this close to him, you have no other choice because of all the bodies surrounding you and leaving you no choice.

You feel like you’re trapped and the exit is a thousand miles away.

The room begins to grow hotter and louder.

You feel yourself begin to zone out. Your heart is pounding in your chest and your vision is blurry. The sounds surrounding you being to drown out, like you’re in a different world, but you’re stuck in the same spot.

“Isn’t that right, baby?” you hear Eddie say to you but you can’t respond or react. “Baby?” Eddie asks, concerned. He grows worried when he sees the look on your face and the sweat on your forehead.

“Fuck, let’s get you outside, okay?” You give a small nod and close your eyes.

Eddie grabs your hand and plows through the crowd to get you outside into the fresh air. After what feels like hours, you’re finally outside.

You start to sob and you can’t catch your breath.

“Hey, hey, listen to my voice. Deep breaths, okay? In and out, can you do that for me?”

Eddie starts to take deep breaths with you and you feel yourself calm down a little, but you’re still shaken up.

“There ya go, you’re okay. Can I touch you?”

You nod and his hands rest on your shoulders. He wants nothing more than to pull you into him for a hug, but he knows that might make things worse.

Once your breathing is normal and you feel more cooled off, you look at him. “I’m so sorry. I ruined your night and-”

“You didn’t ruin anything, babe. I’m sorry that I didn’t notice sooner. I know big crowds can stress you out sometimes and I should’ve thought about that.”

“I was fine, but then everything hit me all at once and I’m so happy that you guys got a big crowd tonight. I just wish I was able to handle it better and support you.”

“You do support me. Always. Even when there were only two other people in the crowd, you were there. You’re there at band practices and even when I’m just in my room forcing you to listen to whatever shitty lyrics I write, you’re sitting on my bed with the biggest smile on your face.”

“They’re not always shitty lyrics”

Both of you laugh and Steve walks outside, trying to find you.

“Oh, here you are. I’ve been looking for you two. Everything alright?” Steve notices you look like you’ve been crying.

“Yeah, we’re alright. Steve, would you be a dear and get my number one fan some water?” Eddie requests and Steve heads back inside.

“Just your number one fan? I'm no groupie, rockstar.”

“Number one fan, love of my life. Same thing. And you are so a groupie. But only for me, yeah?”

“Yeah” you agree. “Hug?” you hold your arms out and he can’t wait another second.

You hold each other and you realize you’d go through just about anything to be able to hug him.

“Feeling better?” He asks and you hum as a yes.

“Think I might need a kiss, though”

Eddie chuckles and captures you in a kiss. The kiss is sweet and slow and everything you need.

“I love you” You say as soon as you break apart.

“I love you, more. You know who I don’t love? Harrington. I mean how hard is it to get a glass of water”

You laugh and wrap yourself around him again. “Maybe we can just get some water at home?” you suggest.

“Anything for my one and only groupie” he jokes.

You groan and he leads you to his van, stopping to kiss you every few seconds.

“Guys! y/n I have your water!” you hear Steve shout, making the two of you giggle

“Hurry, before he sees us”

Eddie races you to his van, but obviously lets you win despite how competitive he is. He’d lose every time if it meant making you smile.

-

[nowitswetme]

Aftercare - after Dean

Word Count: ~1040 (oops again. haha.)

Warnings: briefest mention of rough sex. This is the actual fluffiest, so I really think that’s it. Please let me know if I’ve forgotten something!

A/n: part of the Dean Winchester NSFW Alphabet

Getting fucked rough and raw by Dean until you’re deliciously spent beyond words or movement and then being sweetly spoiled by him afterwards is like watching a literal flip of a switch in his brain. His fierce passion and blanketing comfort are like two intoxicating sides of the same beautifully intense love-coin, and he can go from dark and dangerous to completely doting on you in no time flat. 

Well yeah. Gotta take care of my girl, don’t I? I know you like it when I break you, Sweetness – but I still gotta put you back together again, ya know. Actually, some nights that’s kinda my favorite part. You’re all floaty and snuggly and I get to spoil you rotten. You never let me take care of you like that unless you’re all love-drunk. Usually you’re a stubborn, independent pain-in-the-ass, y/n.

Dean’s affectionate in nearly every way imaginable when he loves someone. Given, it’s usually in subtle, understated ways – in the things that most people never even notice. Like switching the bunker brew to a blend you mentioned liking or installing a towel warmer in the bathroom so you’re never cold when you get out of the shower. But in the post-orgasmic haze that follows a rough fuck session with you, the verbal and physical facets of his love both come out in big, beautiful, can’t-miss-them ways. He snuggles you up next to him and runs his fingers up and down your skin in soft, grazing touches that give you goosebumps (the pleasurable, thrilling ones that make your whole body sensitive and awake to his caresses). Or he wraps you up in his perfect arms and covers you in sheets and chaste kisses and nuzzles into your hair while he spoons you to sleep with your head on his arm. 

Sometimes that’s all you need – the sweet, simple reassurance that you’re his and he’s yours and he loves it that way sending you into dreamland with a soft smile on your face.

And then sometimes you both need more time and connection before you’re ready to be done with the night’s comforts, physically or emotionally. The more intense and feral the filthy pleasures were, the softer Dean tends to be afterwards, babying you with gentle touches and murmured phrases of care and concern. How ya feelin’, Sweetness? Did I go too hard tonight? You’re so fuckin’ amazing. I don’t deserve you, y/n. How bout I put you right again, yeah? Tell me where you’re sore. C’mon, Sweetness. Let’s get you cleaned up and rubbed down.

He never wants you to think that you’re anything but utterly precious to him, so he’s extra careful on nights when he’s just gotten done fucking you like you’re a plaything. Part of him still balks a little at letting loose on you like that, but he knows that surrendering every last little piece of yourself to him so fully makes you feel profoundly connected and thoroughly taken care of and wholly his. So he revels in it. And he makes sure the time he spends on you afterwards reinforces that exquisite intimacy too. 

He defaults to things like sudsy showers with the fancy-scented body wash and modest massages with warm oil that coax your muscles to loosen up, and never without a constant stream of sweet, heartfelt comments that you know he really means. He’s always been skilled with his hands and his words, so using those things to lavish you with love just comes naturally to him. 

You’re so good to me, Sweetness. So good and so precious. I’m gonna keep you forever, y/n. He carries you bridal style into the big shower and sets you under the stream of water that he’s made sure is the perfect temperature. He works his fingers tenderly over your body, subtly starting to work on your sore muscles as he gets you clean. You’re usually leaning against him a bit because your legs are still far from steady, and he takes advantage of the full-body closeness to get every last inch of you ready for bed. He shuts off the water and wraps you in one of the giant, fluffy towels he bought especially for you, chuckling when you tell him how sleepy you are. You’re perfect, y/n. You know that, right? More perfect for me than I could ever have dreamed up in my wildest fantasies. He lays you face down on the bed and gets your favorite massage oil worked in as he uses his strong, skilled hands to relax you so much that your muscles start to feel magically weightless. You were amazing tonight, sweet girl. Gorgeous and soft and everything I need. I’m so damn lucky to have you, y/n. I love you. So much.

He says it, and he means it – that soft, genuine I love you. There’s no snark or seductive charm to it – just honest vulnerability and naked trust. And the unspoken affirmation that you’ve made him whole again. It’s the time he’s most open with you – when he’s high on endorphins and staring at your blissed out beauty and feeling like the luckiest guy in the world. Oh, I know I am, Sweetness. No question.

Right before you drift off into unconsciousness, he slips one of his old band t-shirts over your head and helps you get tucked into him in that perfect way that makes you feel like you’re both one intricately melded person, instead of two.

And he knows that you think he does it all for you. That he’s loving on you with pampering gestures and lavish praise because it makes you feel like you’re his whole world. As you should, y/n. You are. You and Sam. But the truth is, Dean loves it just as much as you do. He cherishes getting to cherish you. Getting to have someone be so wonderfully, deeply in love with him that you trust him to put you back together without a single second thought. I’ll never understand it, Sweetness – the love you have for me. But I’m damn thankful for it. Every day. Now get some sleep, yeah? Gotta rest up for tomorrow night, ya know. I’ve got big plans for you. Big plans.

@mwitsmejk @akshi8278

[kingdaddydaichi]

YUUJI vs. SUKUNA Random HCs

Warnings/Notes: some nsfw, mdni, dark content, Sukuna being Sukuna 🤷🏼‍♀️

YUUJI: “Nooo don’t kill the weeds! Weeds are people too!”

SUKUNA: burns entire lawn to a crisp “There, no more weeds.”

YUUJI flirting: “You have really nice eyes. Do you uhh…haha, I mean…can I walk you home? You can say no, it’s fine.”

SUKUNA flirting: bites his lip while his eyes undress you “Hey girl, ever been eaten out and fucked at the same time?”

YUUJI cuddles: koala cuddles, likes to be the little spoon just as often as the big spoon, violently rubs his nose when your hair tickles it then buries his face right back in your hair again

SUKUNA cuddles: traps you with both pairs of arms and rakes his teeth across your neck “Mine…say it…” You shiver. “Fuck…yours, Ryo…all yours.”

YUUJI waking you up: soft kisses on your shoulder “Morning, beautiful”

SUKUNA waking you up: hand mouth licking you all over, growls in your ear “Wake up, sunshine…it’s time to pleasure your king”

YUUJI kisses: slow/tender/sweet, has soft lips, smiles during kisses

SUKUNA kisses: aggressive/deep/lusty, eagerly slips his tongue in, uses his teeth/nips/bites playfully but sometimes a little too hard

YUUJI: can cook like a mf

SUKUNA: can’t cook for shit, burns everything, ban him from the kitchen

YUUJI driving: either v careful or you have to keep reminding him to look at the road

SUKUNA driving: like a bat out of hell, aggressive/fast and furious but he’s so fucking good at it?

YUUJI: falls asleep when you play with his pretty pink hair

SUKUNA: falls asleep when you lazily trace your fingertips over his tattoos

YUUJI kinks: PRAISE, switch/soft dom/service top, bondage, blindfold, best physical aftercare

SUKUNA kinks: HARD DOM/POWER TOP, Master/slave, overstim, biting, degradation, spanking, will punish you if you don’t say yes sir/no sir, takes v good care of you if you’re an obedient service bottom, best psychological aftercare

YUUJI: squirts water with his hands in the bathtub

SUKUNA: bathes in the blood of his enemies

YUUJI: will grab your hand and pull you up to dance with him when a fun song comes on

SUKUNA: watches while you dance for him

YUUJI watching a sad movie: cries

SUKUNA watching a sad movie: laughs

🌸 When they take your relationship to the next level…

YUUJI: gives you a key to his place

SUKUNA: lets you touch his soul without slicing you into a thousand equal parts

🌸 When another person hits on you…

YUUJI: interlaces his fingers with yours and brings your hand to his lips while staring the person down

SUKUNA: licks his teeth as he watches them spontaneously combust

🌸 Teasing you by holding your phone out of your reach…

YUUJI: laughs, “Aww but baby you look so cute when you’re determined and frustrated…”

SUKUNA: “Ganbare, ganbare…gonna have to try a little harder, sweetheart...”

🌸 What makes them soft…

YUUJI: literally almost anything

SUKUNA: when you kiss his forehead tattoo and tell him how much you love him

🌸 Buying a house…

YUUJI: gets prequalified and takes out a mortgage like an actual person

SUKUNA: curses and haunts the current inhabitants until they go mad and run away screeching, leaving behind all their belongings. Victoriously settles down on their plush sofa, loudly props his feet on their expensive hand-carved coffee table, and flips on the tv before cracking open a cold can of Budweiser and sighing with contentment.

🌸 How you know they love you…

YUUJI: cooks for you and grins like an idiot while he watches you eat (“What? Why are you smiling like that?” “Because you’re so cute when you eat.”), thinks everything you do is cute/adorable/sweet, gives you his drawings even if they’re bad

SUKUNA: gives you a heart-warming tour of his Innate Domain (“And this is my throne…I’d normally Cleave anyone who’d dare touch my buffalo skulls, but you can if you want.” “Aww, really Ryo? Wow, I feel so special!” Rubbing the back of his neck and laughing nervously: “Well, I uh…thanks.”)

🌸 When you’re sick…

YUUJI: wraps you up in blankets and forbids you from leaving the couch/bed while he makes soup for you

SUKUNA: snaps his fingers and makes you well again