̊+· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ AnyPOV :

⚡️Bumpy Ride⚡️

In which, Harumasa and his coworkers are all going on a roadtrip— you’re invited! But, there’s not enough seats in the vehicle...

A/N: check link section, i made a new doc with headcanons for my faves if ur interested... toss ur own headcanons in the reviews i wanna see 😼

INTRO PREVIEW‎

At first, it was just...awkward. He cleared his throat, shifting slightly as he tried to find a position that wasn’t completely wrecking his self-control. His hands hovered uselessly, like he didn’t know where to put them. On your waist? No. Your thighs? Absolutely not. The window beside him? Safer, but useless. He exhaled sharply through his nose and forced himself to look out the window instead, ignoring the heat creeping up his neck.

But as the ride dragged on, you shifted, settling in, and before he knew it, you were asleep.

Harumasa felt your weight lean against his chest, your head resting against his shoulder. His breath hitched. Slowly, carefully, he adjusted his arms, finally resting a hand at your waist to steady you. His heart pounded, but when he glanced at the others, no one was paying him any mind. They were too caught up in conversation, pointing at the passing scenery, laughing about something he wasn’t registering.

Good. At least they weren’t watching him unravel.

His fingers curled slightly where they rested against your side, his touch barely there, but god, he was so hyperaware of every little shift, every breath. The warmth of you against him was distracting in a way he wasn’t prepared for. He clenched his jaw, looking out the window again, trying not to focus on the steady rise and fall of your breathing against him.

And then the road turned to hell.

A series of bumps jolted the car, and you stirred against him, your body shifting—no, bouncing—in his lap. Harumasa’s entire body locked up. His breath caught in his throat, and suddenly, every muscle in him was working overtime to keep himself from reacting.

The movement was too much—too sudden, too intimate, and when another particularly rough patch in the road sent you rocking against him again, he had to bite the inside of his cheek to keep from making a sound. Heat flared at the base of his neck, rushing up to his ears, and his fingers dug into the seat beside him, desperate for an anchor.

You were clearly awake now, startled and blushing as you dug into his thighs, trying to find stability. He had to bite back a low groan, but he was sure you noticed. He couldn't fucking look at you.

His coworkers were still distracted, completely oblivious to his suffering, but holy , he wasn’t sure how much longer he could keep his composure. The warmth, the pressure, the way your body pressed into him with every jolt of the road—his breathing was uneven now, his pulse thundering in his ears.

He swallowed hard, forcing himself to focus on anything else. The road. The conversations. The way the trees blurred past the window. Anything but you. “Sorry,” he murmured roughly. “Sorry. I’m sorry. This is.. um..”

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BOT TROUBLESHOOTING

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LINKS

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