themdera

[themdera]

so i just signed my dream job contract.

as a congratulations can someone write some Chris smut please.

thank you

(i started writing one but i’m genuinely in shock bec imposter syndrome has set in and im like ??? i get to move out and away from my family too while getting paid??)

[themdera]

addressing @lanaclarke’s insane post.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

much love,

mitchie & g

[themdera]

I have no clean thoughts about this

[themdera]

Happy Birthday Chris❤️

To the smallest man on YouTube, thank you for being the guy you are, please don’t ever stop getting your friends drunk for views, or claiming to be better at free kicks than most premier league players.

Thank you for making me laugh until I cry🫶🏻

[themdera]

Alfie Buttle (AB) angst / fluff / smut Arthur Frederick (arthurtv) angst / fluff / smut Arthur Hill angst / fluff / smut Becky James (bambinobecky) angst / fluff / smut Christopher Dixon (chrismd) angst / fluff / smut Ethan Payne (behzinga) angst / fluff / smut George Clarke angst / fluff / smut George Memeulous angst / fluff / smut Harry Lewis (wroetoshaw) angst / fluff / smut James Marriott angst / fluff / smut Joe Weller angst / fluff / smut Josh Bradley (zerkaa) angst / fluff / smut Simon Minter (miniminter) angst / fluff / smut Tobi Brown (tbjzl) angst / fluff / smut Will Lenney (willne) angst / fluff / smut

[themdera]

Chris’ Instagram Post❤️

I love him so much. i’m so happy he’s talking about this. Each time someone talks openly about mental health, it makes the world feel a bit safer for everyone. :)

[themdera]

polaroid proof. mdni.

It was just after 7 PM when you quietly let yourself back into the flat.

You weren’t supposed to be home yet — your flight wasn’t due in until tomorrow morning — but you’d managed to catch an earlier one, practically buzzing with anticipation the entire journey. Two weeks on a girls’ trip was fun in theory, but after about five days of beach drinks and tanned flirtations from men you didn’t care about, the only thing you wanted was him.

Chris.

You’d handed him the envelope at Departures like it was nothing. No explanation, no warning — just a kiss to his cheek and a whispered, “Don’t open it until I’m gone.”

Chris had laughed, cocky and clueless, tucking it into his hoodie pocket while you wheeled your suitcase toward security.

But the second your back was turned, he’d opened it, of course.

And the second he saw the first polaroid — you kneeling on the bed in just his hoodie, nipples peeking from the hem, eyes half-lidded with your fingers in your panties — his blood roared.

His cock had gone from zero to fully, painfully hard in a heartbeat, straining against the fabric of his joggers while families walked past and a security announcement droned overhead.

By the time he reached the bottom of the stack — the one where you had his name written in red lipstick across your inner thigh, fingers spreading yourself open to show it off — he was already sweating. Breathing uneven. Palming himself through his joggers in the airport car park like a fucking deviant.

You’d ruined him.

And you knew it.

Because when he looked up, you were halfway through security already — giving him one last wink over your shoulder before disappearing behind the line.

He’d groaned aloud, dragging a hand over his face as the ache in his jeans pulsed harder.

You almost felt bad for leaving him like that — flushed and throbbing and achingly hard, with nothing but a stack of dirty polaroids and the echo of your smile to carry him through the next two weeks.

Almost.

but inside the polaroids? Ten of them. Glossy, handheld sins.

oen of you in his hoodie with nothing underneath. One of you in your red bikini, bottom tied so low your hipbones curved like an invitation. And one in particular — the last one — had his name written on your inner thigh in red lipstick, your fingers pulling the panties to the side so the letters peeked out between your folds.

You hadn’t sent him any follow-up texts about them. You wanted to let them speak for themselves.

Apparently, they had.

Because as you quietly pushed open the door to the flat, you didn’t hear the TV. No music. No kitchen sounds. Just a low, rhythmic creak. Slow. Tense. Almost.. wet?

Your brows lifted, heart leaping as you slid your shoes off and moved further down the hallway. The door to the bedroom was mostly shut, just a sliver left open — enough for light to spill out across the carpet. Enough to hear the soft, breathy groan of your boyfriend murmuring your name.

And when you looked through that sliver?

You nearly dropped your bag.

Chris was on the bed, back propped against the headboard, bare chest heaving, face flushed and eyes hooded with heat. His legs were spread wide — completely bare — with his boxers shoved down past his knees, exposing every inch of him.

In his right hand, he held your final polaroid.

And in the other?

His cock.

Thick and flushed, precum glistening at the tip, his fist pumping slow and tight from base to head. Every few strokes, he’d pause at the top, twisting his wrist and exhaling shakily before jerking harder — a desperate rhythm, like he’d been edging himself, drawing it out. You watched his thumb smear the moisture over the head as he moaned softly.

“Fuck…” he muttered under his breath, gaze locked on the photo. “God, baby… your mout.. wanna feel that tongue — ”

You clenched your thighs, a pulse of heat rushing straight to your core. The way he looked at your photo — reverent, almost pained — made you ache. He missed you. He needed you. And he was so beautifully messy like this, working himself to the thought of you with such focused hunger it nearly made you whimper.

You stayed quiet. Watching.

Chris tilted his head back against the headboard, lips parted as his strokes grew faster — messier now. His abs flexed, the sharp lines of his stomach glistening faintly in the lamplight. You could see the tension in his thighs, the way his hips bucked slightly up into his hand.

“Fucking hell,” he breathed, still staring at your photo. “If you were here right now... I’d spread your legs so wide, baby. I’d have your cunt dripping down my chin.”

He groaned — a real, broken sound — and dragged the photo along his chest as his hand tightened. His knuckles were white. His hips started to move with each pump now, his cock throbbing visibly in his grip.

“I’d fuck you so slow,” he panted, eyes fluttering shut. “Make you cry for it. Wanna feel you squeezing around me, whining like you do when I tease that little spot — ”

You bit your lip, nails digging into the doorframe.

Then — without thinking — a tiny gasp escaped your throat.

Chris’s eyes snapped open. His hand froze. The Polaroid fluttered to the sheets.

And his gaze found you in the doorway.

“Shit!” he blurted, jerking upright, grabbing the sheet like it could hide the obvious. “Babe — ?! What — what the fuck — you’re home?!”

You stepped into the room slowly, pulse racing, smile curling.

“Surprise.”

His cheeks burned crimson. He looked completely undone — flushed and hard and exposed, cock still slick and pulsing between his thighs, and your Polaroid lying next to it like a fallen weapon.

“Jesus Christ,” he muttered, dragging a hand through his hair. “I didn’t — fuck, I thought I had another night — ”

“You did,” you murmured, eyes dragging down his body. “I caught an earlier flight. Wanted to surprise you.”

He groaned, hand flying to his face. “Well, congrats. I’m fucking traumatized.”

You laughed softly and moved to the bed, kneeling between his legs, fingers dragging up his thighs.

“Traumatized?” you echoed, tilting your head. “You looked pretty into it.”

Chris looked up at you like he didn’t know whether to be mortified or turned on.

You leaned closer, lips brushing his ear. “Keep going.”

He blinked. “What?”

“Pick up where you left off,” you whispered. “I want to see how much you missed me.”

His jaw dropped slightly. Then his eyes darkened.

Slowly, Chris leaned back again. His hand curled back around himself — slow, tentative — watching you the entire time. His strokes resumed, a little more measured now, like he was trying to impress you.

“You want me to finish?” he asked, voice rough. “You want to watch me cum for you?”

You nodded. “Mhm.”

“Fuck.” His head fell back against the headboard. “This is so fucking hot.”

He started working himself faster now, hand slick and sure. His breathing grew heavier, rougher, each groan more desperate than the last.

“Did you think about me while you were gone?” he rasped. “Think about me touching you like this? Think about my mouth on your pussy while you’re lying in some hotel bed, legs open for no one but me — ”

You actually moaned at the thought.

And Chris shuddered.

“Baby — ” his voice broke. “I’m gonna fucking cum — ”

His hips lifted, back arched, and with a strangled gasp he came — thick ropes spilling across his stomach, his hand still stroking as he rode it out, a ruined, wrecked mess of sweat and relief.

You were on him in seconds.

Mouth on his, hands in his hair, your body sliding into his lap with heat burning between your thighs.

And the best part?

He was, somehow, already getting hard again.

[themdera]

mayb something abt the ukyt boys making you squirt for the first time? 🫣xx

ohhh yeeeees. (i combined this with this ask!)

contains: smut, female ejaculation (squirting)

george clarke x fem!reader, chris dixon x fem!reader, arthur frederick x fem!reader, harry lewis x fem!reader

george clarke - he blinks, stunned for maybe half a second...then that smug little grin tugs at his mouth like he’s just proven a point. “fuckin’ hell,” he mutters, dragging his middle and ring finger through your folds, voice low and rough. “didn’t even know you could do that.” he doesn’t give you much time to recover, either- already thrusting like he’s determined to see it again, just to make sure it wasn’t a fluke.

chris dixon - “no way,” he breathes out, laughing under his breath- not to make fun of you...he's just so completely caught off guard he doesn’t know what else to do. his hands are still on your hips, and he’s just looking down at the mess with wide, hungry eyes. “you’re gonna kill me,” he grins, already leaning back in, voice all low and cocky. “do that again.”

arthur frederick - he goes quiet. not shy, just focused- like he’s filing the moment away somewhere deep and private in his mind. his gaze lingers on you, dark and unreadable at first, then softens as he leans in to press a kiss to your lips. “you okay?” he asks, voice low, more gentle than usual. and when you nod, breathless, he kisses the side of your neck and mutters, “good. ‘cause that… that was so fucking pretty.”

harry lewis - “holy shit-” he practically chokes on the words, sitting back like he needs a second to process. and then he’s laughing, all breathless and stunned and a little cocky, running a hand down his face. “that was so fucking sexy.” he leans over you again, grinning wickedly. “think i just unlocked a whole new level with you.”

[themdera]

MY BABY I LOVE HIM

ChrisMD | £100 vs £1,000 Valentine's Day

@themdera 🫶🏻

[themdera]

My man fr | i love him so much

[themdera]

Can’t wait for number 2!!!

All the right angles

[themdera]

they are now MARRIED and pregnant!!!

yo I’m really on board with this talia x simon ship!! they’re cute

[themdera]

If you’re still taking kinktober ideas what about a harry/chrismd threesome? I think those two island boys actually have some chemistry

Threesome | ChrisMD & Harry W2S Lewis

🔞[KINKTOBER]

[kinktober #1, ironically posted 10th October]

Praise!Harry x reader x Degrading!Chris CW's: Degrading, praise, fem!recieving and fem!giving oral, overstim (if u squint), drunk sex, THREESOME!

The end of a drunk night out ended with the three of you all toppling back onto the same bed together, Harry on the left, Chris on the right, and you sandwiched between the two, giggling and shuffling to pull the corner of the duvet over yourself. 

Harry's arms were burly and strong (you'd know- having been staring at the definition in his forearms all night), and they climbed over your waist, pulling you back and flush against his body which meant that Chris just shuffled even closer, almost suffocating you between the two as you laughed and playfully pushed one away. 

You turned around to face Harry, eyes scanning his face, from his fluffy hair to his warm and dazed eyes, down to his curved lips and the light stubble that surrounded it. His little laugh triggered one from you, and you pushed yours hips back slightly to get into a more comfortable position, unknowingly brushing into Chris's crotch as you did so.

A grin curled up and onto your lips as you accidentally did so, hearing a short, sharp breath exhaled from Chris behind you. You couldn't help but push your hips further as you felt Chris's hard-on from behind, grinding down and giving him just enough friction to have his hand gripping your waist, nails digging into the plush skin whilst his hips rutted slightly, impatient and incredibly turned on by what you did. 

"I'm not missing out on something right now, am I?" Harry teased as Chris let out a slightly louder groan, Harry catching on quickly and letting his hands wander down from your waist to your ass, feeling Chris's clothed cock and letting himself press his body flush against yours so that you truly were sandwiched between two hot, horny men which you weren't half mad about.

Harry's head dipped slightly, his tongue pressing flat to your neck and laying out a line before creating a harsh suction across the delicate skin, the shock making you let out a slight moan as Chris seemed to brush a sensitive part simultaneously, causing your heartrate to shoot up and your fingers to close around Harry's fluffy hair and thin shirt.

Harry caught the hint and pulled his shirt off before returning to you, lowering himself to your small top and fondling your tits through the material. Meanwhile Chris helped himself to your unoccupied neck, spotting the dark hickey blooming across your skin from Harry's prior kiss- and Chris did nothing to help as he grazed his teeth over the already sensitive spot, eliciting a moan from yourself as you arched your back from the sensation- pushing your tits out and into Harry's face, synchronously grinding harder onto Chris behind you. You felt as Harry's large hands ventured under the top, pushing the material down and your bra to the side to expose your boobs, his tongue working a circle around one nipple and making it harden whilst you whined- Chris' hand finding the other breast and wrapping his own hand around it. Your head turned just a fraction before you pressed your lips atop Chris', biting down onto his lip hungrily and exploring his mouth passionately, dominating the kiss as Chris focussed more on rolling your nipple between his thumb and index, the feeling of Harry's wet mouth around the other clouding your head and making you feel an ache between your legs.

It wasn't long before you were reaching round and pulling hastily at Chris' bottoms, shifting to get onto your knees whilst Chris helped you and took his trousers and boxers off in an instant, the sight of his cock hitting his stomach and red at the tip from the intensity of his hard-on had you watering at the mouth, wrapping both hands around the base of his cock and letting his tip hit the back of your throat instantly, deep-throating him whilst Chris' hands found the back of your head- holding your head in place and making your eyes water as you gagged around his cock, choking yourself around his length before his fingers were wrapping around your locks and pulling your back up for air- your spit dripping from his cock and making an even more beautifully nasty sight whilst you gasped to regain your breath. 

"Such a whore for my cock," Chris groaned as he watched you run your hand from tip to base of his length before swirling your tongue around his tip and taking him back into your mouth once more as you were indeed a whore for his cock, and showed it willingly as you bobbed your head up and down on him.

You felt Harry's hands across your skirt- pulling the material up and exposing your panties beneath, his thumb tracing the wet spot and clit through the waistband, making you arch your back and take your mouth off Chris' cock to let out a groan as you felt Harry's fingers curl around the waistband, slipping them down your legs to expose your drenched core.

 Chris threw his head back and let out a groan as your moan send vibrations down his cock which was halfway down your throat as Harry blew your core, causing you to clench your thighs as he blew the cold air across your arousal. His hands separated your thighs though, muttering a "Come on, open up Princess" before his tongue lay flat across your bundle of nerves, making you shut your eyes and forget all about Chris for a moment as you felt Harry's lips wrap around the sensitive bud, letting out the lewdest of noises as he mixed his spit with your arousal, sucking and causing you to see stars in your eyes as you felt euphoria coursing through your body and all the way to your fingertips from the way Harry's mouth moved almost pornographically around your pussy.

Harry's actions had you grinding back against his face, neglecting Chris as you absorbed in the feeling of Harry's large hands spreading your legs whilst his mouth worked wonders between - though Chris brought you back, tapping his cock against your open lips which let out whimpers and moans at Harry's actions. 

"Be a good girl and give Chris some as well," Harry noticed Chris' actions and spoke, his lips brushing over all your sensitive parts as he spoke, making your thighs clench again, though you nodded and took Chris back into your mouth without hesitation, Harry's hands kneading and patting the soft skin of your thighs and ass as he mumbled an "'Atta girl" and put his mouth back to good use against your pussy, whilst Chris worked on gripping your hair in his hands, trying to control his thrusts at least somewhat as your spit dribbled down his length, hitting the back of your throat each time you bobbed your head.

It felt unreal, feeling the stubble between your legs, burning your inner thighs each time Harry lapped at your soaking cunt, your hips grinding down on to his tongue before being pulled towards by Chris at the hair whilst he mumbled "Fuck, so pathetic with my cock in your mouth" and a variety of other degrading syntaxes that had you clenching down hard, and that didn't go amiss by Harry, either. 

You could feel that burn between your legs becoming more and more intense, your thighs spasming and chokes around Chris becoming more frequent as his cock throbbed in your mouth also, indicating he was going to cum not too soon either. 

Harry's lips pulled away momentarily, murmuring "Cum, gorgeous", brushing your labia with wet and wanton lips as he did so, before letting his tongue roll your clit over, the bundle of nerves shooting fireworks in your stomach as you felt yourself release over Harry's tongue- Chris' groans growing loud as he rutted his hips into your mouth, chasing his release and holding your head all the way down at the base of his cock so that you couldn't breathe- your nose brushing his lower stomach as he released all down your throat, making you gasp as he let go and let you catch your breath after that, thighs shaking as Harry took the leisure of licking all your cum from your thighs and even your spent pussy- his large hands having to support the weight of your thighs which threatened to collapse each time Harry's tongue traced a particularly sensitive spot.

You turned around (with Harry's help), Harry putting his lips atop yours and making you taste yourself in his mouth as he shared a sloppy, open-mouthed kiss. You couldn't help but admire how beautiful Harry looked with glistening wet lips- your arousal coating his outer mouth and dribbling down his chin whilst his pupils were blown out, completely dilated, completely pussy-drunk.

A little gasp came out as you felt Chris' hand make hard contact with your ass, slapping it playfully and making you giggle after a moment as you looked back to Chris, admiring just how pretty he looked, all fucked-out- and you couldn't imagine how good you looked either- your hair messied from Chris' face-fucking and thighs still shaking from Harry's godly work on your spent pussy.

"Turn her around Harry, I wanna see what her pussy 'round my cock feels like, now,"

Your eyes went wide at Chris' words, though you were rendered helpless as Harry's strong arms wrapped around your thighs, picking you up effortlessly and turning you so that your body was flush with Chris'.

"You take it- I wanna feel her ass anyways..."

As the words left his mouth you could feel the tip of Harry's cock nudging against your ass, Chris' own length still bright red and erect despite cumming in your throat, and lining up with your entrance, all too ready to feel your insides himself, despite your little whimper of protest, already too fucked out to go again.

"I don't think I can go another round..." You whined, though Chris' cock that ran up your folds made you feel otherwise, as that overstimulation began feeling pleasurable again.

"Come on sweetheart, you can go again for us..." Harry spoke with a lilting tone, pressing a kiss to your neck below your ear like a little gift.

"You know damn well you can go more than one round, your still dripping and I know you wanna get stuffed again." Although Chris' words were more degrading, you knew they were true as you let out a moan into Chris' neck, feeling their lengths slide into you slowly, filling you completely.

Fair to say that with Chris and Harry inside you simultaneously- one hitting your G-spot from the front and the other sliding and and hitting your g-spot through your ass whilst the other pulled out- it was a long night of lewd moans and orgasms- but you weren't complaining one bit- not even the next morning when you could still feel their cum dripping from your, legs and throat still sore whilst the other two just proudly grinned at the state they had you in, just waiting for the next opportunity they would get to ruin you again. 

----

HOT OR WHAT???? Much love for requesting this bc tbh- yes- i agree, these mf's deffo have a lotta love for one another. Hopefully you and everyone else who read this enjoyed tho and remember to leave little requests for what u wanna see in later kinktobers! Much peace n love xoxoxox

Hope you enjoyed reading!! Feel free to interact- whether that be a comment, vote or follow! Requests open, feel free to submit what u wanna see... Much love!!

To see more, here's my MASTERLIST

And here's my WATTPAD, with 50+ more oneshots to read

[themdera]

Whenever you’re ready

~Angst/ fluff~

TW- Mentions of poor mental health !!

It was just after ten when James found you on the fire escape again, legs dangling over the edge like you were testing gravity. The city buzzed below, distant and indifferent, while your thoughts ran louder than traffic. You didn’t look at him when he opened the window, but you didn’t flinch either. That was something.

"Didn't think you'd be out here tonight," he said, voice soft, like he was afraid the wrong tone might tip you off the ledge- even if only metaphorically.

You shrugged. "Hard to sleep when your brain won’t shut up."

James sat beside you, knees pulled to his chest. He didn’t press you, didn’t ask what thoughts were keeping you hostage. He’d learned not to rush silence.

Instead, he offered you half of his hoodie sleeve. "Here. Snot privileges granted. One-time offer."

You gave a half-smile. Fragile, tired, but real. And James, who noticed everything, counted it as a win. You took the sleeve with a quiet laugh, wiping your nose without shame. James always had a way of making you feel like you didn’t have to hide the messy parts. Not your cracked voice, not your puffy eyes, not even the thoughts you were still too afraid to say out loud.

“I brought snacks,” he added, like it was some grand peace offering. “And by ‘snacks’ I mean two granola bars and a very squished banana.”

You turned your head, meeting his eyes for the first time that night. There was a softness there, something unspoken that hovered in the space between you like steam from a mug left untouched.

“Wow,” you said dryly. “You really know how to spoil a girl.”

He grinned, and for a second, everything felt lighter. “Only the best for you.”

Your heart did that annoying thing again- skipped like a scratched record, because he always said stuff like that. Light-hearted. Casual. But there was a weight to it tonight. Maybe it was the way he was looking at you, like he wanted to say more but didn’t know if he had permission. And truthfully, you weren’t sure if you were ready to hear it. Not when your mind had been so cruel to you lately. Not when you were still trying to remember how to breathe without it hurting. Still, you leaned your head against his shoulder, just enough to feel the warmth of him.

“I hate this,” you whispered. “I hate how my brain lies to me. Makes me feel like I’m broken.”

James was quiet for a moment. Then he tilted his head, resting his cheek gently against your hair.

“You’re not broken,” he said. “You’re just tired from holding yourself together for too long.”

You closed your eyes. And in that moment- surrounded by sirens, stars, and someone who saw you even when you didn’t want to be seen, you started to believe him.

The silence stretched between you, but it wasn’t uncomfortable. James had a way of making space feel safe, like the quiet wasn’t a void but a place to rest. He didn’t shift or fidget, just sat with you, the two of you tucked into a corner of the world that didn’t ask anything of you for once. You felt the words stirring long before they found their way out.

“I didn’t think I’d make it through last week,” you said, barely above a whisper. “I smiled at people. I said I was fine. But I was just… barely holding on. Every day felt like I was walking through mud with weights tied to my chest.”

James didn’t speak right away, and somehow that made it easier to keep going.

“I kept thinking… what if I just disappear? Would it even matter? Would anyone notice? I know that sounds selfish or dramatic or whatever, but it’s just…” Your voice broke, and you didn’t bother to hide it this time. “It’s so heavy, James. And I’m so tired.”

You felt his arm shift behind you, gentle and slow, wrapping around your shoulders without pulling you in too tightly. Just enough that you knew you weren’t alone.

“Hey,” he said quietly, the kind of quiet that comes with care, not fear. “I’d notice. Of course I’d notice.”

You swallowed hard, staring out at the lights bleeding into the night sky.

“I didn’t want to tell you. I didn’t want you to look at me differently.”

“I don’t,” he said immediately. “I just look at you and wish I could carry some of it for you.”

You turned your head just slightly, and he looked at you like he meant every word.

“Whenever you’re ready, I’ll be here. You don’t have to carry this alone.”

Your chest ached in a different way now- one that had nothing to do with sadness and everything to do with the way James saw you. Not as broken. Not as a burden. Just… you. And somehow, that was enough.

“I think I’m ready to try,” you said, voice trembling but true. “But I might need you to remind me. A lot.”

He smiled, small but steady. “Good thing I’m annoyingly persistent.”

You laughed through the tears. And this time, when his hand found yours, you didn’t let go.

The city below kept moving. Cars humming, windows glowing, lives unfolding. But up on that fire escape, time had slowed, like the universe had carved out this moment just for the two of you.

James didn’t let go of your hand. His thumb brushed over your knuckles, a small, absent movement, like he was trying to ground you. Or maybe himself. Neither of you said anything for a long while, and for once, that didn’t make you anxious. There was comfort in the quiet, in the shared air and heartbeat proximity.

“I get scared, too,” he said eventually. His voice was low, almost like he wasn’t sure he should say it. “Not in the same way, maybe. But sometimes I feel like if I let people see all the parts of me, the messier ones, they’ll… I don’t know. Leave.”

You turned to him, surprised. James always seemed like he had it together- steady, warm, unshakable. But now his jaw was tight, and his eyes were fixed on a point far away, like he was confessing to the night itself.

“Even with you,” he added quietly. “Sometimes I’m afraid I’ll say the wrong thing. Or not say enough. And I’ll lose… this.”

You squeezed his hand. “You couldn’t lose me. Not like that.”

He glanced at you then, the tiniest flicker of hope in his eyes, like your words were something he’d been waiting to hear but didn’t think he deserved.

“It’s strange, isn’t it?” you said. “How we can be surrounded by people but still feel completely alone. And then one person shows up and suddenly… things don’t feel so impossible.”

James nodded, and his voice was thick when he spoke. “You make things feel less heavy. Even when you’re hurting.”

You looked down at your joined hands. It was such a small thing, fingers tangled together, but it felt monumental. Like something sacred had passed between you, unspoken but deeply understood.

“I don’t want to be a weight to you,” you whispered.

“You’re not,” he said, fiercely. “You’re not a weight. You’re someone I care about. A lot. And if all I can do is sit with you on rooftops and hold your hand through the hard parts, then I’ll do that. As long as it takes.”

Your throat tightened, emotion rising like a tide you couldn’t hold back. So instead of speaking, you leaned into him again, this time fully, your head pressed to his chest. He wrapped both arms around you, holding you like something fragile and precious. Like you mattered. And in his heartbeat- steady, patient, there just for you- you started to believe that maybe healing didn’t mean fixing everything. Maybe it just meant being held through the storm.

The wind shifted, brushing against your skin with that early spring chill- soft but biting. You stayed curled into James, his warmth anchoring you in the moment, but your mind tugged elsewhere. You’d been quiet for a few minutes, your body still, but James could tell something was shifting. He didn’t rush you. He never did. When you finally spoke, it came out as a whisper, the words catching on the edge of your breath.

“I almost did something last night.”

James stiffened slightly beside you- not pulling away, but more alert now, every part of him listening.

“I was sitting in the shower. Lights off. Just… crying. For hours, I think. Everything in me hurt. Not just in my head, but like my body was too tired to keep going. And I kept thinking, maybe if I just… stopped trying. Let the water keep running until it was all quiet. It felt like the kindest option.”

You didn’t look at him. You couldn’t. The shame rose like smoke, thick and cloying.

“I didn’t want to die, not exactly,” you added quickly. “I just… didn’t want to be anymore. Not like this.”

The silence that followed wasn’t peaceful this time- it was heavy, electric. James’s arm around you had gone rigid, his grip on your hand tighter than before. When you finally dared to glance up at him, his expression was raw- eyes glassy, jaw clenched tight. Not angry. Not at you. But scared in a way you’d never seen on his face before.

“Why didn’t you call me?” he asked, voice low, hoarse. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Because I didn’t want to scare you,” you said, tears rising again. “And I didn’t think it would matter. I thought… maybe I’d just sleep it off and pretend it was fine again.”

His breath caught, and he pressed the heel of his hand to his eyes like he was trying to physically push the emotion back down.

“It does matter,” he said, voice cracking. “You matter. God, I…”

He cut himself off, swallowed hard. You could see the way he was trying to hold it together, and it broke something in you to know you’d hurt him by keeping it all in.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered. “I didn’t mean to make you worry.”

James turned to you, gently taking your face in both hands so you had to look at him. His eyes searched yours, and for a second it felt like he was trying to memorise every line, every flicker of pain.

“You don’t ever have to go through that alone again,” he said, voice trembling. “I don’t care what time it is, I don’t care if you think it’s stupid or too much- I want to be there. Even if all I can do is sit in the dark with you.”

You nodded, tears falling freely now. Not from fear this time, but from the way his words felt like shelter- solid and real. James leaned his forehead against yours, still holding your face like it was the most important thing in the world.

“I almost lost you and I didn’t even know it,” he whispered. “Please don’t shut me out like that again.”

“I won’t,” you said, your voice shaking. “I promise.”

And as you sat there in the cold with his arms around you, your pain still real but no longer invisible, you realised- sometimes love doesn’t arrive with fireworks or grand gestures. Sometimes it’s just someone refusing to let you drown in the silence. James was quiet again, but it wasn’t the same silence as before. This one felt heavier, like he was holding something back- not from you, but from himself.

You leaned into his shoulder, eyes still damp. “What is it?” you asked gently. “You’re somewhere else.”

He exhaled slowly, like he was working up the nerve to pull something out from a place he rarely touched.

“There was this night,” he said, after a long pause, “back when I was sixteen. My mum and I had this huge fight. One of those stupid blow-ups where everything gets said all at once. And afterward, I just... walked out. Didn’t even take my phone.”

You stayed still, letting him speak.

“I ended up on this overpass. Just stood there, watching the cars. No plan, no intention. But my head... it was loud. Loud in a way I’d never felt before. I remember thinking, ‘No one would even know I was gone until morning.’” He gave a bitter, breathless laugh. “And that thought didn’t scare me… it felt like relief.”

You turned to him slowly. He wasn't looking at you. His eyes were somewhere far away, locked on a memory he rarely let surface.

“What stopped you?” you asked.

He was quiet for a moment.

“There was this guy,” he said. “Stranger. Probably mid-twenties. He just… stood next to me. Didn’t say anything at first. Then he offered me a sandwich.” James smiled faintly, but there was sadness in it. “Just said, ‘Figured you could use something real to hold onto.’”

You felt your throat tighten.

“That stupid sandwich. I didn’t even eat it. But it was enough to pull me back.” He finally looked at you, his eyes shining. “And after that, I promised myself, if I ever saw someone I cared about standing on that edge, even if it was only in their head, I’d be the one with the sandwich.”

A shaky laugh broke through your tears. “I can’t believe you just emotionally devastated me and made me want a sandwich.”

He chuckled softly, brushing his thumb along your cheek to wipe away a tear. “Sorry. I know it’s a lot.”

“No,” you said, pressing your hand over his. “Thank you for telling me.”

James looked at you then- really looked- and there was something fragile in his expression. Not fear. Not regret. Just honesty. Shared pain. That quiet, raw understanding that maybe, just maybe, neither of you had to carry everything alone anymore.

“You’re not the only one who’s had those nights,” he said. “You’re not alone. Not in this. Not ever again.”

And in that moment, two souls stitched together by silence and storms, you realised that what he was offering wasn’t just comfort. It was himself.

The night air had gone colder, but neither of you noticed. You were still sitting close, limbs tangled in quiet trust. After everything that had been shared, your breaking point, his own brush with the edge, it felt like something had shifted between you. Not just in words, but in the way he looked at you now. Like he wasn’t just seeing your pain. He was seeing you. You rested your head back against his shoulder, heart still thudding with the weight of everything, but steadier now. Safer.

“Thank you for telling me about that night,” you murmured.

James tilted his head toward you. “I’ve never told anyone before,” he admitted. “Didn’t think I ever would.”

“Why me?”

He was quiet for a moment. Then, softly “Because you matter to me. In ways I don’t think I’ve let myself say out loud.”

You lifted your head just slightly, just enough to meet his eyes. There was a vulnerability there that mirrored your own from earlier- raw, unguarded.

“What do you mean?” you asked, your voice almost too soft to hear.

James let out a breath that felt like it had been trapped for years.

“I mean… I think about you. All the time. Even when you’re not around, you’re there. In my head, in the way I look for excuses to text you stupid things, in the songs I skip because they remind me too much of you.”

Your heart skipped. There it was- just a glimpse, not a confession, but more than friendship could contain.

He rubbed the back of his neck, a nervous habit. “But I didn’t want to push. Not when I knew you were struggling. Not when you needed space to heal, not pressure.”

You sat up a little, enough to really see him. His posture was tense, but his face was open, like he wasn’t hiding anymore.

“I never felt pressured by you,” you said quietly. “Only… held. In a way no one else ever has.”

James gave a small, aching smile. “That’s all I ever wanted. For you to feel safe. Even if I have to bite my tongue sometimes.”

There was a long pause. The kind of silence that felt alive with everything unsaid.

“I think about you too, you know,” you whispered, your voice barely holding itself together.

His eyes flicked to yours again. Hopeful, surprised, but still cautious. Like he was standing at the edge of something he wasn’t sure he was allowed to reach for yet. You reached out, lacing your fingers through his once more.

“Not ready to say it yet,” you said gently. “But I’m not scared of it anymore.”

James nodded, eyes softening.

“I can wait,” he said, squeezing your hand. “I’m really good at waiting for the right things.”

And so you sat there, tired hearts pressed close, unspoken feelings lingering in the quiet. But this time, the silence didn’t ache. It promised.

The night stretched on, the city slowly dimming as the hours slipped toward dawn. The sky above you had begun to shift, inky black giving way to a soft, bruised blue. The kind of colour that only exists right before the light comes back.

You and James hadn’t spoken in a while. You didn’t need to. His shoulder was a steady place to rest, his hand still wrapped around yours like he had no intention of letting go. The fire escape, once a place you went to disappear, now felt like the safest corner of the world. You watched the horizon quietly, your breath rising in pale clouds.

“I never thought I’d see a morning like this again,” you murmured.

James didn’t answer right away. He simply turned, gaze warm, like the sunrise had found its way into his eyes.

“I’m glad you stayed to see it.”

You looked at him then, really looked. Sleep-tousled hair, tired eyes rimmed with worry and something softer, deeper. He looked like someone who’d carried you without complaint. Someone who’d waited at the edge, not to save you, but to hold your hand as you came back to yourself. The air between you hummed, quiet and electric.

You didn’t plan it. You didn’t think about it. You just leaned forward, heart thudding painfully loud in your chest, and pressed your lips to his. It was brief. Gentle. The kind of kiss that wasn’t meant to declare anything, but simply be a thank you, a promise, a breath of warmth in the cold morning air. When you pulled back, you found him watching you like you’d just given him something sacred.

“I thought we weren’t ready,” he whispered, almost like he didn’t trust his own voice.

You gave him a soft, tired smile.

“We’re not,” you said. “But maybe... we’re allowed to hope anyway.”

James smiled back, forehead resting gently against yours.

“Hope looks good on you.”

And there, as the first light of morning spilled over the rooftops, painting you both in something golden and fragile, you let yourself believe, for the first time in a long time, that maybe healing didn’t mean being whole again. Maybe it just meant having someone who knew how to sit with you in the dark, and stay long enough to watch the sun rise.

—————————————————————————————————

A James fic for all the James girlies! I also apologise for yet another angst! Some of this is based on a true event from issues I have personally experienced. Remember someone is always here to listen and help you. You are never alone and you are loved!

Tags-

@themdera

@tyna-19

[themdera]

Off Days & On Arms. | ChrisMD x Reader i dont know im just bored so i made this

You’d both had a weird week.

The kind that left you feeling slightly frayed at the edges — a little off, a little quieter than usual, a little like everything was just a bit heavier.

Chris had been filming almost non-stop. Training, editing, traveling, filming again - and you’d barely gotten more than a few late-night FaceTimes and half-awake voice notes from him. You hadn’t said anything. You knew what his job was like. You loved how passionate he got about it. But you missed him. And today, for some reason, that quiet ache weighed more than usual.

So when you opened your door that Friday afternoon expecting the takeaway driver, and instead found Chris - hoodie on, hair slightly messy, a bag in one hand and that familiar boyish grin on his face - you could’ve cried.

“Hi,” he said, and just like that, the weight cracked a little.

You stood there for a second, eyes blinking back the unexpected burn. Chris’s smile faltered slightly as he looked at you.

“Woah - hey,” he said gently, stepping forward, instantly serious. “You okay?”

You nodded too quickly, then shook your head. “I - yeah. Sorry. Just… bit of a crap week.”

Chris didn’t say anything else. He set the bag down, stepped right into your space, and wrapped his arms around you in that way only he could - solid, warm, chin resting lightly on your head, like his whole body was built to make you feel safe.

You sighed against his chest, hands fisting lightly in the back of his hoodie.

“Been thinking about you all week,” he murmured, voice low, sincere. “Missed you.”

You didn’t even care that he probably hadn’t showered yet. Or that his bag was still by the door. You just stayed there, tucked against him like if you let go, the weight would come crashing back.

After a minute, he gave you a little sway. “Still not gonna say hi to me properly?”

You laughed against his hoodie. “Hi, Chris.”

He pulled back just enough to see your face, brushing a thumb under your eye. “Hi, love.”

Your cheeks flushed.

Chris leaned in and kissed your temple gently. “C’mon. I brought snacks and a stupid movie. We’re staying in today.”

You nodded, already feeling a bit more human again.

—

An hour later, you were both on the couch. Chris had somehow gotten you to smile five times already - including a particularly dumb joke involving a sock puppet made out of his own sock. (“He has an accent. Please respect him.”)

But what really got you was the way he kept his arm around you the whole time. Not in a dramatic way. Just… there. Anchoring. Comforting.

At one point, you shifted to curl into his chest again, and he instinctively adjusted to wrap both arms around you. His hand found the back of your head, gently brushing your hair.

“You know you can tell me when you’re having a rough one, yeah?” he said quietly, almost like he was scared you’d shrug it off.

“I didn’t wanna bother you,” you murmured.

Chris tilted his head down to look at you, expression somewhere between soft and annoyed. “You’re never bothering me. Ever. Promise.”

You swallowed hard.

“And for the record,” he added, nudging your nose with his, “I kind of love being the one who gets to cheer you up.”

You rolled your eyes, smiling despite yourself. “That’s a bit sappy for you, isn’t it?”

Chris shrugged. “Not really. I’m kinda mad for you.”

You buried your face in his chest again, groaning dramatically. “You’re disgusting.”

“And you’re stuck with me,” he said cheerfully, kissing the top of your head again.

There was a long, comfortable pause.

Then -

“…Can I carry you to bed like a damsel in distress?”

You snorted. “Chris - ”

“C’mon. I’ll even do the little voice. ‘Oh no, my legs don’t work, Christopher, save me!’”

You broke into laughter, breath catching in your throat.

Chris grinned like a proud idiot and scooped you up bridal-style without warning, making you squeal.

“CHRIS - !”

He cackled. “Told you! You didn’t believe me!”

You gave up resisting and clung to his neck, head falling against his shoulder as your giggles turned into quiet little hums of comfort again.

The second he set you down on the bed, he wrapped you up in a warm duvet burrito and flopped in beside you, pulling you into his chest again.

And this time, when you sank into him, it wasn’t because the world was too heavy. It was because you felt safe. Cared for. Loved.

You whispered it before you could think twice: “I love you.”

Chris paused - then let out a soft breath.

“I love you too,” he whispered back, like it was the easiest thing in the world.

And maybe it was.

Because even when the week felt heavy, Chris never did.

He was your light. Your warmth.

And your safe place to land.

[themdera]

fic recommedations

ᯓᡣ𐭩 will lenney

october rain by @octaneink

pushing it down and praying by @roc-haze

softness in the storm by @octaneink

who gets to love me after you? by @octaneink

cry to me by @roc-haze

ᯓᡣ𐭩 george clarke

sweetheart by @urfavdreamcatcher

stay by @sweetfcwn

take me back to san francisco by @themdera

come back, be here by @wroetominter

ᯓᡣ𐭩 chris dixon

the rain by @wifelivvyx

interests by @clarkeyhill

ᯓᡣ𐭩 arthur hill

little ways to say i love you by @clarkeyhill

ᯓᡣ𐭩 arthur frederick

whispers of olympus by @clarkeyzzz

the dog and the postman by @gabbytvclarke

will be updating frequently :)

[themdera]

No more secrets

~Fluff~

The game had begun ten minutes ago, and you had found the perfect hiding spot- a cramped supply closet tucked away at the back of the warehouse. Dust floated in the sliver of light that peeked through the gap beneath the door, and distant laughter echoed through the open space outside.   

You pressed yourself against the cold wall, heartbeat steady but alert. Hide and Seek was supposed to be a fun, lighthearted shoot for the crew, but for you, it was another test. Another chance to keep a secret you had spent months perfecting.  

Then the door opened.  

A shadow slipped inside, shutting it quickly behind them. Your breath caught for half a second before you realised who it was.  

Chris.  

Your chest tightened. He wasn’t supposed to be here.  

He turned, eyes finding yours in the dark, and despite the situation, a slow smirk tugged at his lips. “Really?” he murmured, voice just above a whisper. “Out of all the places to hide?”  

Your pulse kicked up. Not just from the risk of being caught, but from the way he was looking at you- like he wasn’t sorry at all to be stuck here with you.  

“I was here first,” you whispered back, arms crossing. “You should leave before someone-”  

Footsteps echoed nearby.  

Chris’s gaze flickered to the door, then back to you. His smirk faded, replaced by something quieter. Calculated. He wasn’t leaving.  

You swallowed, pressing yourself further into the shadows. The space was small, too small, and Chris was too close.  

It shouldn’t have mattered- you had been careful, after all. No one had noticed the way he looked at you when he thought no one was watching. No one had caught the way his hand always lingered just a second too long when passing something to you. You had played your parts perfectly.  

But now, in the dim light of a too-small space, you weren’t sure how long you could keep playing.  

Chris exhaled slowly, and then- before you could stop him- he reached up, fingers brushing against your jaw. It was the lightest touch, but it unraveled you in an instant.  

“We shouldn’t,” you breathed, but your voice lacked conviction.  

“I know.” His voice was soft, his eyes unreadable in the dim light.  

Then he kissed you.  

Slow. Deliberate. Like he had waited for this moment, like he was tired of pretending it didn’t matter. His lips were warm, his hand steady as it curled around your waist, pulling you against him. It was reckless, but in that second, neither of you cared.  

And then-  

The door swung open.  

Light flooded in, and you barely had time to jerk apart before a familiar voice cut through the air.  

“Wait- what the hell?”  

Harry.  

The silence was damning.  

You didn’t move. Chris didn’t move. But it didn’t matter.   

Because despite months of secrecy, despite all the careful glances and hidden touches- one look at Harry’s face told you everything.  

You hadn’t been as good at hiding as you thought.

Harry’s eyes flicked between you and Chris, his expression shifting from confusion to realisation in real time. The way you were standing- too close. The way Chris’s hand was still resting on your waist, like he hadn’t quite convinced himself to let go yet. The way neither of you had an excuse ready.  

His mouth opened, then shut. Then opened again. “Wait… Are you-”  

“Nothing,” Chris cut in, too quickly. His voice was calm, but you knew him well enough to hear the slight edge in it- the scramble to cover something up that was already out in the open. “Just hiding.”  

Harry scoffed, stepping further into the doorway. “Oh yeah? Because it looked like you were-” His eyes narrowed, and then, almost gleefully, “Holy shit. You were kissing.”  

Your stomach dropped. “Harry-”  

“Oh my god.” His grin widened. “No way. No actual way. How long?”  

You shot Chris a look, heart pounding, but he only ran a hand through his hair, exhaling through his nose. “Harry-”  

“No. No, I need to know.” Harry leaned against the doorframe, crossing his arms. He was enjoying this too much. “Because I’ve been saying something was going on for months, and no one believed me.”  

Chris let out a slow breath, finally dropping his hand from your waist like that would somehow undo what Harry had just witnessed. “You’re imagining things.”  

Harry scoffed. “Chris. Come on.” He gestured vaguely between you. “The tension? The stolen looks? The fact that you just kissed in the middle of a game when literally anyone could’ve walked in?” He smirked. “Which, by the way, I did. You’re welcome.”  

You groaned, pressing your fingers to your temples. “Okay, fine. Just… keep your voice down.”  

Harry’s eyes widened. “So it’s true?”  

Chris sighed. “Yes, okay? It’s true.”  

Harry grinned like he had just won the lottery. “This is the best thing that’s ever happened to me.”  

Chris rolled his eyes. “Glad we could make your day.” 

“Oh, you have no idea.” Harry’s smirk softened slightly, and for the first time, there was something other than pure amusement in his expression. Something almost… sincere. “I won’t say anything. Not unless you want me to.”  

You blinked. “Really?”  

“Hey, I can be cool.” He shrugged. “I just can’t believe you two actually pulled it off this long.” His grin returned, teasing. “Well. Almost.”  

Chris shot him a glare, but you could see the corner of his mouth twitching, like he was resisting a smile. You exhaled, tension slowly easing from your shoulders.  

Maybe you hadn’t been as good at hiding as you thought.  

But at least, for now, your secret was safe.

Harry lingered in the doorway, arms crossed, a smug expression still plastered across his face. He was enjoying this too much, and you weren’t sure whether you wanted to shove him out of the room or bribe him into forgetting the last five minutes entirely.  

“So,” he said, dragging the word out, “just to clarify- I’m the only one who knows, right?”  

Chris sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Yes, Harry. You’re the only one who knows.”  

“For now,” you muttered under your breath, shooting Chris a pointed look.  

His lips twitched, but he gave a small nod, as if acknowledging that, yeah, that close call had been way too close. You had been so careful for months, but now, all it had taken was a single stolen moment- one lapse in judgment- and the secret you’d built had started to unravel.  

Harry’s grin widened. “And, just so I’m clear, how long have you two been-”  

“None of your business,” Chris cut in.  

Harry gasped dramatically. “Oh, that means a while then.”  

You groaned, rubbing your temples. “Harry, please.”  

He laughed, but it wasn’t cruel- it was lighter, softer. “Alright, alright. I’ll stop prying. For now.”  

Chris narrowed his eyes. “Harry-”

“I said for now,” he repeated, smirking. Then, with a glance toward the hallway, he added, “But, seriously, you two need to get out of here before someone else comes looking. I might be able to keep my mouth shut, but if it had been Arthur or George who walked in?” He let out a low whistle. “Game over.”  

You and Chris exchanged a glance, and you hated how right Harry was.  

Chris sighed. “Fine. You go first. We’ll wait a few minutes.”  

Harry held a hand to his chest. “Wow. So sneaky. So romantic.”  

“Harry.”  

“Okay, okay, I’m going.” He turned toward the hallway, then hesitated.  

When he looked back, his expression was softer- still teasing, but there was something else behind it. Something genuine. “For real, though,” he said, quieter this time, “I won’t say anything. And… I’m happy for you guys.”  

The sincerity caught you off guard. You exchanged a glance with Chris, and his expression softened, too.  

“Thanks,” you said finally.  

Harry nodded, then grinned again. “Just don’t get caught next time.”  

And with that, he slipped out the door, leaving you alone with Chris once more.  

The silence stretched between you, thick with everything that had just happened. Chris ran a hand through his hair, exhaling slowly.  

“Well,” he muttered, glancing at you, “we almost made it.”  

You let out a quiet laugh, shaking your head. “Yeah. Almost.”  

His gaze lingered on you, something unreadable in his expression. Then, slowly, he reached for your hand, lacing his fingers through yours. The touch was reassuring, grounding- like he was telling you that, no matter what happened next, you were in this together.  

And maybe, just maybe, that was enough.

A week had passed since that close call in the supply closet, and, to your surprise, Harry hadn’t said a word to anyone. The air between you, Chris, and Harry had remained surprisingly normal, almost like that moment in the warehouse had never happened. Chris and you were back to being as careful as ever- more so, really- and Harry had gone back to his usual teasing self, though there was always a knowing glint in his eye when he looked between you two. He didn’t push. He didn’t ask.  

For the most part, it was as though he had genuinely respected the quiet unspoken agreement.  

You and Chris were still masters of secrecy, no one suspected a thing. The glances you exchanged in crowded rooms, the moments where your hands brushed just a little too long, the shared smiles when no one was looking. It was easy.  

But easy didn’t mean comfortable.  

Tonight was another late shoot, another rushed set change with only a few hours before the next scene. You and Chris were separated for most of the night, caught up in different parts of the set, doing your best to pretend like everything was normal. You kept it together. But it was harder tonight. 

Your heart raced when Chris walked into the room, a few steps ahead of the crew, and his eyes met yours across the space. That same old tug of familiarity, of the quiet connection you shared, was stronger than ever. It was like he was pulling you in, gravity refusing to let you ignore it.  

But you couldn’t. You had to ignore it.   

The shoot was almost over, and soon you’d be back to pretending, to keeping your distance.  

You were halfway through touching up your makeup in the corner when Chris approached. He glanced around the room- quick, subtle- before stepping closer.  

You barely had time to breathe before his hand found yours. A fleeting touch, barely noticeable to anyone but you.  

He gave you a soft smile. “You good?” His voice was low enough that only you could hear it.  

You squeezed his hand, forcing a small smile. “Yeah. Just tired.”  

Chris raised an eyebrow. “Tired? You look like you’re about to fall asleep standing up.”  

You chuckled softly. “It’s nothing. Just the usual.”  

He stepped in closer, his hand still on yours, and for a moment, you didn’t care who saw. It was just the two of you, your connection quiet but undeniable. Your heart beat a little faster in your chest. It was a reminder of everything that had been, everything that still was, even if no one else knew.  

But then, just as quickly as he had come, Chris released your hand. His eyes flicked to the door, checking for anyone in the vicinity. When he saw no one, he gave you one last lingering look before turning back to the crew.  

You exhaled slowly. Even though the brief moment felt like a stolen piece of heaven, the truth was clear. This was all a game of balance now. It was a game of when and where and how, never why- because no one could ever know.  

A few moments later, Harry appeared beside you, leaning against the makeup table with a raised brow. “I saw that,” he said, his voice a little too casual, though his eyes danced with amusement.  

You shot him a glance. “Saw what?”  

“Chris. Hand. Yours.” He grinned, an almost teasing edge to his voice.  

“Harry.”  

“Hey, relax.” He raised both hands in mock surrender. “I’m not saying anything. Just wanted to check if the 'secret relationship' is still a thing.”  

You glared at him, but there was no anger in it- only exhaustion. “It’s still a thing.”  

“I figured.” He paused, then lowered his voice, his expression softening. “Look, I’m not going to make it weird. But… just make sure you’re being careful. I know you two. You can only hide it for so long.”  

You swallowed, looking away for a moment. “I know.”  

Harry’s smile softened. “I’ll let you get back to it, then.” He pushed off the table and moved toward the door, but then, just before he left, he added, “But you really should stop looking at each other like that. If you keep doing it, you won’t be able to hide it much longer.”  

You didn’t say anything in response, just watched as Harry disappeared out the door. His words echoed in your mind, heavy and real. The secret wasn’t just a secret anymore, it was a weight.  

You glanced at Chris again, and he was busy talking with someone on the other side of the room, his back turned. A small, aching part of you wondered how much longer you could keep this up.  

You looked down at your hands, your fingers still tingling from where Chris had held yours moments before.  

You didn’t have an answer. 

The soft hum of the city outside Chris’s flat was a quiet contrast to the warmth that filled the space between you two. The familiar clutter of his apartment was a comforting reminder of how much you’d grown accustomed to the moments you shared here, hidden in plain sight, in the secrecy of these four walls. The world outside had no idea- no idea how much more there was to you and Chris than what people saw when you were together on set, when you exchanged stolen glances across rooms.  

But tonight was different.  

You sat on the couch, your fingers tapping nervously on the edge of the armrest. Chris was across from you, his laptop open on the coffee table, his fingers hovering over the keys. The same tension that had followed you both for months was still there, but now there was something else, too. Something new. Excitement, perhaps. Maybe even relief.  

“Are you sure?” you asked quietly, breaking the silence.  

Chris glanced up from the screen, his eyes soft, but there was something determined in them too. He leaned back, his lips curling into a small smile. “We’ve been hiding it long enough.”  

You took a breath. “I know… but it’s just…”  

He reached across the table, taking your hand in his. The simple gesture felt like an anchor, steadying you in the whirlwind of what was about to happen. “It’s just time. We’ve spent enough time pretending, and now we don’t have to.”  

You squeezed his hand, nodding. "Okay. Let's do it."  

With a slow exhale, Chris clicked open Instagram on his laptop. He scrolled through his feed for a moment, pausing on a picture of the two of you laughing at some behind-the-scenes moment from a shoot. The picture was innocent enough, nothing that would give anything away. But it was the perfect one. He clicked it, tapping the “share” button.  

You watched as his finger hovered over the caption. The seconds stretched, but then, in a movement that felt both reckless and freeing, he typed.  

“Here’s to the best part of my life. #NoMoreSecrets #InThisTogether”

You felt your breath catch in your throat. This was it.  

Chris met your gaze, his hand resting on top of yours. “You good?” he asked softly.  

“Yeah,” you whispered, the word almost a breath. “I’m good.”  

Without another word, he pressed "Post."  

The notification popped up almost immediately: Your post is live.  

There was a quiet moment where everything hung in the balance. You glanced at the screen, your heart beating fast as you saw the first few comments rolling in. The likes, the hearts. Some from familiar faces, some from strangers. But there was one thing that stood out in the flood of reactions: it was official now.  

Chris pulled you toward him, his smile wide. “Well,” he said, his voice filled with something that sounded like both relief and joy, “there’s no turning back now.”  

You chuckled softly, leaning into him as he wrapped his arms around you. “Not that I’d want to.”  

As you both sat there, tangled together, the phone in Chris’s hand vibrated with notifications. Messages, comments, and, inevitably, a few people reaching out privately. The world had just found out about something you’d kept hidden for so long- but for once, it didn’t feel like a burden. It felt like freedom.  

"Harry’s going to have a field day with this," you muttered, the thought making you laugh quietly.  

Chris laughed too, his lips brushing against your forehead. “He’ll text us, I’m sure.”  

And, as if on cue, Chris’s phone buzzed again. He glanced down, his grin widening as he read the message.  

“Yup. Here it is.” He held the phone out to you, where Harry’s text was displayed:  

“About damn time, you two. Finally, I can stop pretending I didn’t know. Congrats, lovebirds. I expect a celebration soon. 😏”

You both laughed, the sound light and carefree, and in that moment, everything felt like it had finally fallen into place. No more pretending. No more hiding. Just you, and Chris, and the world that was finally going to see what you had together.  

“I guess we can stop pretending to be casual now,” you said softly, turning your face toward his.  

Chris met your gaze, his eyes full of that same warmth that had drawn you to him all those months ago. “Yeah,” he said, his voice just above a whisper, “now we can finally be real.”  

And for the first time in a long time, the secret was gone. You were both free.

——————————————————————————————————

Another Chris fic to feed your delusions (delulu is the solulu). Fic idea was from my friend again. Also, off topic, I got an Arthur TV cameo today and it was 8 minutes long!

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