#this made me insane i need to take a cold shower now | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

stylesharrys · 7 months

Text

private show

summary: you miss harry’s concert but half of it isn’t your fault.

warnings: mentions of anxiety and panic attacks, swearing, kissing, teasing, unprotected shower sex, dirty talk, fingering...

word count: 3,938

a/n: i literally wrote this about four years ago, but it’s all been edited and freshened up a little for you guys! i hope you’re staying safe and if there’s any writings in particular you’d like to see, send me a message! anyway, enjoy this smutty piece:)

The car broke down. You weren’t sure how it happened, or why, but the engine wouldn’t start and your dad suspected the battery died.

You’re in London with Harry for a few days, Harry performing and you visiting your family in a small town a few hours out of central London. You’d come by late afternoon yesterday and now you’re stuck.

You’re meant to be going back to London in time for Harry’s show, but with no car and none of your family having one to lend, you’re shit out of luck. You didn’t have the money or time to get the battery recharged or get a new one, and in all honesty, you didn’t know what you needed to do for it anyway.

So, with your little suitcase and your purse, you got yourself a train ticket straight to London. You missed the first train, the bus getting you to the station three minutes late. So you had no choice but to wait in the warmth of the sun for seven minutes until the next one came.

You only stayed on that one for three stops, staring at your phone screen when the rail app told you that you’d need to get off. And you did, sat down for twenty minutes while you waited for the next one that took you straight to Greenwich.

By then it was already 7 pm and you knew you’d most likely miss his entire show at this rate. And then the train showed up and you hopped on it, squeezing between the standing people and you shoved your earphones in, playing an old playlist Harry had made you.

And that’s when you get the text.

iMessage from H💞

Hey. You close, I’m on in an hour x

You sigh and rub your forehead, flicking back to the app on your phone and groaning when you realise you’ll be twenty minutes on that train and then need to get another Bank one for six minutes, then a thirty-minute walk, and then the underground.

iMessage to H💞

Just left for the Greenwich line. Car broke and I don't have time or money on me to get it sorted. Taking the train and it’s insane how many connections you have to make. I don’t know what time I’m gonna be there. Does security know I’m coming in backstage? Xx

You lock your phone with a sigh and turn up the volume of the music, closing your eyes for a moment and trying to calm your nerves and anxieties.

Soon enough, you’re getting off at Greenwich and onto the Bank train. Only when you go past Heron Quay do you realise that you’ve missed your stop and, essentially, gotten yourself lost.

Your panic only grows when Harry stops answering your calls and texts and then you realise it was 8:31 and he’s already on stage, performing, without you supporting him on the side stage.

You try to call Jeffrey, but of course, no answer. Matt, no answer. Mitch, no answer. Jasmine, his opener, no answer. It’ll be useless to call your parents, neither of them know the train lines and can’t come and pick you up anyway because they don’t drive.

You struggle to ask people where to go, most people pushing past you in their own hurry to get to their destinations, and you’re shocked to not see any rail workers anywhere on the platforms to offer assistance.

So, you do what you do best. You panic. You slump down on one of the cold, metal benches with your suitcase by your side and purse in your lap. Tears are quick to prickle at your eyes and the air grows colder, bitter.

If you had just got off at your stop, you would’ve been with the others by now, watching your man perform on stage and become one with the crowd. But, here you are, cold, alone, and lost.

Your little denim jacket is doing nothing to conserve heat and your legs bounce as you try to warm yourself up. Your achingly cold fingers struggle to type up a route you could take and before long, thirty minutes have passed and it’s 9 pm.

And then, the worst possible thing happens. Your phone dies.

You panic even harder now, your chest constricting and you struggle to catch a breath. It isn’t until you see an older man slowly walk the yellow safety lines of the station in a high-vis train rail jacket that you calm just a little.

You shoot up from your seat, hands clammy and shaking as you pull your suitcase with you. “Excuse me!” You call out to the older man, the station much quieter now.

He turns to you with raised brows and a friendly smile, and you’re more than relieved that you’ll be getting some help.

“I’m not from around here and I missed my stop and ended up here.” You explain as calmly as you can, taking deep breaths and swallowing back the lump in your throat.

“Okay. Where are you heading?” The older man asks, sliding his silver-rimmed glasses up the smooth slope of his nose.

“I’m trying to get to the O2 Arena.” Your heart’s stammering in your chest and you explain how your phone had died and you have no way of contacting anyone or getting routes.

The man, Barry, assures you it will be fine. He writes down the trains and stops you need to make and where to go from there, then offers you his battery pack to charge your phone for a few minutes.

You check it when you get on the next train, a message from Jasmine on your screen and the time’s now nearing 9:34 pm.

iMessage from Jasmine X

Hey!! Where are you?? Everything okay? Call me!!

You sigh and quickly begin typing, trying to explain what happened and that you’re on your way, but before you can ever send the text, your phone freezes and cuts off dead.

You take another deep breath, trying to keep calm, and shove your phone into your pocket. Your ears focus on the voice through the speaker, listening closely for your stop and staring at the piece of paper in your hand so you know when to get off.

By the time you reach the O2, it’s 10 pm and you're certain the show’s over. You sprint to the doors, unsure where you’re even meant to go. You don’t have a ticket and Harry has your backstage pass.

“Can I help you, miss?”

The security guards eye you cautiously, somewhat alarmed by your frantic state. To them, you look just like every other fangirl they’ve ever met.

“I’m meant to be meeting Harry’s team backstage. Do you know how I get there?”

You’re breathless, body somewhat numb from the sudden drop in temperature and pure anxiety you’ve suffered over the past two hours.

The man squints at you. “Do you have a pass?” Great.

You sigh. “No, his manager, Jeffrey, has my pass. I’m Harry’s girlfriend. Look, you can go and ask on your walkie talkie. I have ID, but I don’t have my pass.” You try to explain.

He shakes his head, tries to hide the amusement on his face. “Nice try, kid. Go home.” He turns his back, wandering away but you shake your head and follow after him.

“No, I’m being serious! Jeffrey has my backstage pass. My phone is dead so I can’t contact them! Please, just radio it through. I promise you! My name is Y/N Y/L/N, please. He’ll tell you!” You beg, tears pooling in your eyes in panic.

This can’t be happening, how has it even come to this? You’ve been through the works already, and now, you look like nothing more than a desperate fangirl.

“Listen, miss. If you don’t leave right now, we will escort you out ourselves or call the police. It’s your choice.” He all but growls his words, an effort to scare you off.

Your shoulders slump and tears spill from your eyes, anxiety consuming you. “This isn’t happening,” you whisper to yourself, breathing unevenly and your knees buckle slightly.

You can’t even go back to the hotel as you don’t know where you’re all staying, seeing as you stayed with your parents last night. You’re done for.

You’re about to turn away, search for someone with a charger maybe, when a ruckus of cheering and talking catches your ears and the doors to the arena open. Hundreds of people flood out of the doors, eager to get themselves home and you wonder how you’re going to get to Harry.

“Oh my God! It’s Y/N!” Is all it takes for everyone to spot you and scream, hurtling toward you and calling your name.

You grab the security guard's arm and frantically beg for his attention. “Now do you believe me!? Please!” You cry out, but he continues to look at you sceptically as the other security members calm down the fans.

You try to talk to the fans, to have them prove that you were Harry’s girlfriend. And even though they agree and show security pictures and proof, they refuse to let you back because you don’t have a pass.

“Here, use my phone to call someone!” An older woman from behind security offers you her phone, her daughter (you presume) staring up at you with big doe eyes.

You smile and take the mobile, punching in Harry’s number that you’ve had memorised for moments like this. You ignore the security guard that continues to ask you to leave and when the ringing stops and a ruckus on the other end is heard, you let out a sigh of relief.

“Hello?” Harry answers, sceptical from the other end.

“Harry! Oh thank God, it’s Y/N.” You sigh out in relief, the fans screaming when they hear you on the phone with him.

“Babe, what the fuck is going on? I’ve been trying to call you! Where are you?” His words are laced together in panic and you can hear him shushing his team.

You sigh. “I’ll explain later but I’m with your fans outside the doors and security won’t let me through to you because Jeffrey still has my pass.” You explain, pinching the bridge of your nose.

Harry tells you to sit tight and that he’ll fix it, tells you he loves you and ends the call. You sigh in relief and quickly delete the number from the call log, handing the phone back to the woman and thanking her profusely.

You feel awful, really. It’s bad enough that you missed Harry’s show, but now you’re holding up all of his fans from going home because security is keeping them away from you and not letting you through the doors.

You speak to a few of his fans while you wait, asking how they found the show and answering some of their questions about Harry when another scream is heard and Jeffrey wanders out toward you with a security guard.

“Y/N!” He calls out, speaking with the other security for a second before showing them your pass and explaining you are who you said you are.

You say goodbye to the fans, dragging your suitcase over to Jeffrey and he pulls you in for a hug, shrugging off his jacket and handing it to you. You thank him and wave goodbye, following him through a hallway and you disappear.

“What the hell happened?” Jeffrey asks in concern, brows furrowed and you sigh while explaining about your car, the trains, and your phone. Jeffrey listens closely and throws his arm over your shoulder as you walk, pulling your suitcase along.

Security leads you through another corridor and another, opening doors and scanning his ID on certain parts to gain access. A few minutes of walking and a burst of soft laughter can be heard, your heart skipping a beat.

Jeffrey's hand rests against your back as he leads you through a room and another curtain, and there Harry stands; pacing back and forth and biting at his nails. The sound of the door opening catches his attention and he spins around to you.

“Honey...” he whispers, pacing toward you and scooping you into his arms. You sigh and wrap your arms around his neck, crying softly into his shoulder. Harry cradles the back of your head, gently cooing you and whispering reassuring words into your ear.

“You’re okay, baby.” He whispers, kissing your temple and you pull away sniffling, wiping your eyes and taking a deep breath. Harry cups your clammy cheeks in his hands and leans down a little. You lift onto your tiptoes and kiss his lips softly, not even a little bothered by the taste of sweat on his lips.

You sigh into the kiss, eyes fluttering closed and a cheeky wolf whistle from behind him catches your attention. You pull away and peer over his shoulder, blushing at the sight of his entire team grinning at you both and Lloyd facing his camera at you.

You’re curled into Harry’s side as you wander down the hall to find his room. His arm is around your shoulder, yours behind his waist as he pulls your little suitcase along.

His skin is still sticky with sweat and his clothes stained with a salty scent, but somehow, he still smells like vanilla and his stupid cologne. “I can’t believe you had to do all that,” he murmurs out after having listened to your travels of the day.

You hum back and yawn, pulling away from his side when he reaches into his pocket for his key-card. You both stand outside the room before he unlocks the door and he drags you in behind him.

You flop straight onto the bed, the sheets still a mess and Harry’s suitcase sprawled out over it. He sighs and kicks off his boots, wiggling his toes and standing between your legs.

“I’m gonna take a shower,” he says softly, head tilted as he watches you sit back up and take his hand in yours. “You wanna join?” he wiggles his brows playfully and you let out a tired laugh, nodding your head nonetheless.

“You go ahead, I’m gonna put my phone on charge and clear the bed.” You tell him, earning a little nod and a forehead kiss before he’s taking off to the bathroom, turning on the water.

You stand from the bed with a sigh and plug Harry’s charger into your phone while kicking your own shoes off. Your feet were no doubt blistered and you knew it’d be a pain to walk for the next few days.

Looking back at the bed, you sigh. Harry had always been messy when it came to getting ready for events. But you weren’t sure why, considering he had a stylist so Harry never had to find something to wear for his shows.

Nevertheless, you shake your head and begin to refold his clothing, setting it neatly in his suitcase. You brush the creases out of the sheets and fluff up the pillows before making your way to your bag to pull out your toiletries and one of Harry’s shirts you’ll sleep in.

You take them with you to the bathroom, soft melodies slipping past Harry’s lips as he washes the night away. You smile to yourself, the mirror and windows fogged by the heat of the shower that you’re eager to climb into.

You strip from your outfit and open the shower door, Harry turning to look at you with a little mohawk he’d styled with the shampoo. You snort out a laugh and shake your head, standing in front of him so the water falls down on you.

“Well, hello there,” Harry grins cheekily, eyeing your breasts as your nipples pearl. You blush and lean your head back, soothing the water through your hair but Harry can’t keep his eyes off your chest, not when it’s right there.

“Stop staring.” Your eyes are closed as you massage the shampoo into your scalp, but you already know he’s drooling at the sight of you. He always did have a thing for your chest, even if you argued they’re not your best asset.

Harry whines and nibbles on his plump bottom lip. “But, baby, they’re like begging me to love on them.” He argues, paw-like hands holding your waist as his thumbs gently caress the bottom of your breasts.

You snort out another laugh at his reasoning and wash the shampoo away, slathering on some conditioner and turning you both around so he’s now under the water. You guide him to sit on the little seat beneath the shower and adjust the head so the water can reach him.

Harry’s face is now completely level with your chest as you wash the shampoo from his hair. He whines at you with a little pout and you gently massage his scalp with your fingertips.

“I know this usually makes me really sleepy, but with your tits in my face, it's really fucking turning me on.” He rasps out, voice low and suggestive and you have to fight back a little whine of your own.

“You’re such a boy.” You breathe, slathering his luscious locks in your conditioner and leaning down just enough to kiss his swollen lips.

It was only intended to be a peck, but Harry wraps his arms around your middle and pulls you between his legs, lifting your thighs so you straddle his lap.

Your fingers slide through his curls, breathing heavily and you moan softly against his lips. His hands smooth over the curves of your ass, kneading the flesh with little force and you pull away to catch your breath.

“I’m proud of you.” You whisper against his lips, your core bumping the head of his cock and he strains out a laugh.

“You’re proud of me? Babe, you got lost on your own, almost got kicked out of the arena, and you didn’t have a panic attack once. Shit, I’m the proud one here.” Harry argues with a little smile.

You purse your lips to hide your smile and kiss his lips softly again. He kisses you back for a moment before pulling away and squeezing your ass.

“But seriously, I’ve had a raging boner ever since you sent me that naughty pic last night, and I am dying to get lost in that puss-” You cut him off with a heated kiss, sucking his tongue into your mouth as your own massaged it.

Harry groans and lifts you both, your legs around his waist as his heavy cock bumps your ass. Your back presses against the shower wall, Harry’s lips chasing the water that drips down your neck.

You tug on his hair, eager to feel him inside you and you know he’ll be giving you what you both want in a matter of seconds. He holds you up with one arm and uses his free hand to grip his cock, pumping himself before he swirls his tip around your entrance.

“God, you feel so fucking good,” Harry whines out, teasing himself against you and you huff, tugging on his hair and sucking his bottom lip into your mouth.

“I feel better once you’re in me,” you remind him, a taunting smirk on your lips, but it’s quick to fade when Harry thrusts his hips into yours, his thick cock stretching you out and you shriek in pleasure.

“Shit, H.” You moan, head thrown back as he slides in and out of you at a delicious pace. The running water is long forgotten, the sound of skin slapping and your arousal squelching being the only sounds you can focus on.

Harry pants in your ear, small grunts sounding through the bathroom as you whine and moan for him. He grabs your ass and spreads your cheeks, knuckles white as he grips you harder.

“So good, baby.” He moans into your ear, nibbling on your earlobe and your eyes roll back.

You can feel him deep in your stomach, feel him throb between your walls and you’re certain you’re about to explode any second. You grip his shoulders, circling your hips on his dick the best you can.

Harry rests his forehead against yours, his eyes focusing on the way his glistening cock slips in and out of your swollen pussy with such ease. “Such a good girl for me.” Harry praises, your pussy clenching around his cock and he chokes out a moan.

“Only for you. O-only good for y-you,” he grins against your lips and picks up his pace, hitting your G-spot with every soul-shattering thrust.

Harry feels you begin to spasm, can feel your body losing its strength and he cups your face with his hands, forcing you to look at him -- your noses bumping while he does so.

“Look at me, baby. Wanna watch you as you cum all over my cock.” He gently coaxes, pinching your nipple with his other hand and your eyes almost bulge out of their sockets.

“I’m gonna cum,” you cry out, eyes wide and jaw slack. Harry watches you with hooded eyes, jade clouded with lust and with one final thrust, he pushes you over the edge, watching the way your eyes roll to the back of your head and body falls limp.

The choked cry of his name is all it takes for him to paint your walls with his pleasure, a rugged groan slipping past his lips as he cries out your name, collapsing slightly into you and trapping you completely against the wall.

“Holy shit,” you breathe out, head falling back against the tiles on the wall and Harry gently eases out of you, slowly kissing every inch of your face before his lips meet yours in a tender encounter.

“I love you so much,” he breathes against your lips, easing your legs back to the ground and keeping his arms around your waist.

“I love you, too. And hey, I might’ve missed your main show but fuck me, this private show was just as good.” You joke, an angelic laugh sounding through Harry’s throat as he kisses you again.

His arms ease to rest on your ass, soothing over the tender skin he had been gripping. “Let me clean you up,” he mumbles, giving your bum a little tap before he pulls you back under the water.

Harry washes both of you, peppering your skin with gentle kisses before you’re both completely clean and drying off, brushing your teeth side by side. Harry throws on a pair of sweats while you steal a pair of his boxers and his shirt.

Sliding into bed, he curles up behind you, spooning your back and kissing your shoulder. “I’m sorry about missing your show and being so stupid that I got on the wrong trains and stuff.” You huff out.

Harry shakes his head and kisses your shoulder again. “Don’t be. None of it is your fault. Jeffrey should’ve given you that backstage pass yesterday. I’m sorry you had to go through all that on your own, but I’m so fucking proud of you, honey.”

You smile to yourself and hold his hand close to your chest, wiggling back so you’re snug against his chest. “I’m so happy I fell in love with you,” you whisper into the darkness, eyes fluttering closed.

Harry smiles into your hair, pulling you impossibly closer to his chest as he kisses the crook of your neck. “I’m happy I fell in love with you, too.”

if you enjoyed it, please give it a reblog! your feedback and comments are appreciated more than you’ll ever know — i’d love to hear what you thought <;3

#harry styles #harry styles imagine #imagine harry styles #harry styles x you #harry styles smut #harry styles x reader #harry styles fic #harry styles oneshot #harry styles fluff #harry styles angst

2K notes · View notes

gurugirl · 6 months

Text

Under His Bed | bfd!harry

best friend's dad!harry x reader

Summary: Harry invites you to stay at his house for the night and the following morning you both get an unexpected visitor. Based on this request.

Word Count: 4479

Warning: 18+ only, smut, cheating, lying, age gap, breeding kink

Best Friend's Dad!harry Masterlist

Harry showed up at your apartment after you’d just gotten home from work. You hadn’t made any plans to see him that day but you definitely weren’t disappointed when you saw him at your door.

“I just got home and I need to shower really quick,” you said as he attacked you with his mouth. His face was unshaven and the scruff was a bit more grown out than normal. You grasped his face and laughed as you bent back from him, “I’m serious!”

But your giggles and sweet smile were all that Harry noted as he ignored your words and kept smushing his lips against yours with his own smile on his face. He smelled like the fresh outdoors. The weather had cooled down significantly over the past few days, but it was only temporary. It would warm right back up. You were enjoying the cool down, though.

And Harry’s skin was chilled. Like he’d been outside for a bit. You pushed at his chest, still puffing out laughs through your nose at the way he was pawing at you, “You’re cold. Do you want to shower with me?”

Now that got his attention, “Of course I would.”

You pulled out an extra towel for Harry as you let the water warm up, “What did you do today? You smell like you were outside all day,” you asked as you reached into the stream to test the temperature.

“I smell like I was…” he shook his head and looked at you like you were crazy, “You can smell that?”

You nodded, “Yeah. Just smells like you were outside. It’s like a fresh, chilled air smell. Hard to explain. You don’t know what I mean?”

“Not really and I was golfing before I came over.” Suddenly his arm was around your front and his chest pressed into your back, “You’re not pregnant are you?”

You whipped your head around to look at him, “What?! Why would you say that?”

“Because you said you can smell fresh, chilled air. That sounds like the superpower of a pregnant woman,” he grinned.

You scoffed and pushed at him so you could take your towel off, “Water’s ready.”

You both climbed into the shower and you continued, “I’m not pregnant, though. Don’t worry,” you grinned as you picked up the soap. Harry’s comments recently had been very teasing but you wondered if there was some truth to his words.

Harry wet his hair and sighed under the warm stream before switching places with you, squirting soap into his hand to lather up, “Do you want to be?”

You paused your motions and stared at Harry bewildered, “What are you…?” You laughed at his cheeky attitude, “You’re insane.” You honestly didn’t know if you were ready for that conversation. Or if he was even being serious. But of course, his little suggestions and the way he’d talk about stuffing you with his babies did give you a bit of a longing you never had before. You were sure it was only because it was Harry.

Harry grinned and pulled his lips into his mouth as he rubbed suds over his torso and you began to lather soap over your skin. But you couldn’t take your eyes off of him. Looking at his fit, toned body never got old. And he wasn’t one of those guys that only had buff arms or buff pecs. He was masculine and nicely muscled everywhere. His thighs always got you. They were solid and every time you held on to them when he was fucking you– the way they bulged and rippled under your hands… you could get wet from just thinking about that alone.

Dropping your sight to his tiger tattoo and then upward to the center of his thighs where his other masculine feature hung in front of them you bit your lip. He was half hard already.

Harry pulled you into his arms, your soapy, wet skin slipping against his as he cupped your face and practically devoured you with his gaze alone, “You’re so pretty. You wanna come home with me tonight? Test out my bed?”

You slid your arms over his shoulders, “What if your wife comes home? Or Fae stops by? Or the neighbors see me?”

“Don’t really care that much. Doubt any of that will happen.”

You frowned and tilted yourself back in his arms so you could look at his face squarely, “Why are you so loosey-goosey about this lately? You don’t care if we get caught?”

Harry shook his head, “I don’t know. I think I just rather be with you and risk it than be without you and on the safe side.”

You smiled softly at him and breathed out through your nose when you felt his fingers lower to your bum. It felt like silk the way his hand traveled down your wet curves before he groped your cheeks and pulled. It was then you felt his cock was no longer only half hard. He was solid against your hip.

You both grinned at one another knowingly as Harry reached behind you and turned off the shower before picking you up and carrying you into your bedroom. You yelped and laughed, “Harry! I wasn’t done!”

“You’re done when I say so, little girl,” he lowered you to your mattress and climbed up over you, pressing his lips to your mouth, his tongue finding yours and his fingers traveling up your ribs and to your breasts.

You and Harry had been seeing each other just about every night since Mrs. Styles went to stay with her sister. It had been… really nice. But you had yet to go to his place because of the risk. Your apartment was less obvious.

Harry lowered his mouth to your neck and tongued over your still-damp skin, “I love you so much, Y/n,” his warm breath heated the droplets of water on your neck and your shoulder and you moaned.

“I love you, Harry,” you whispered with your eyes closed. Harry lowered his lips to your breasts, sucking and squeezing at them.

He pushed your thighs apart and lifted one leg as he kept his eyes on yours before he ducked down to give a hot, wet kiss to your pussy.

When he sat back onto his haunches his pink lips were parted and he looked like a man on a mission, “I don’t know how to explain it, Y/n,” he smoothed his palms over your thighs and up to your tummy, “The way I feel about you… how much I want you. Fuck it’s like a need. I don’t know if I can ever go back to sleeping next to my wife again now that I get to have you almost every night,” he watched the path his hands were making up your ribs and to your breasts. He pushed his thumbs into your nipples and then leaned over you, his cool wet hair dripping over your skin as his hot mouth covered every inch of your tits and nipples.

You moaned and grasped at his shoulders then his lats as he moved up your body and pushed his mouth to yours. You could feel his warm cock over your pussy, just pressed over you teasingly.

He parted from the kiss and brought his hands up to your face, “I love you and I don’t feel like that phrase even cuts it. God, I have to just…” he sighed and dotted a kiss to your lips before continuing, “Make you mine. Want you, Y/n. In every way. I mean it. I can’t be with anyone ever again.”

You brushed your fingers over his cheekbones and then into his hair as you wrapped your legs around his waist and pulled him down flush to you, “Harry… that’s how I feel too. It’s such a deep need and I can’t describe it.”

Harry rocked his hips and you enjoyed how his big cock slid through your folds back and forth slowly. You were wet for him. Your body always ready and open for his cock somehow. Nothing and no one had ever turned you on like Harry did.

As he kept his eyes on yours he pressed his bulbous crown to your entrance and began to push into you. You gasped at the tight fit and he grinned at your reaction.

With your legs wrapped tight around his waist and your ankles crossed together he thrust in and out, long and languid, delicious strokes. His chest was pressed to yours and he moaned as he felt you around himself, your slick walls taking him fully, meeting the spot that he nudged into when he couldn’t reach in further.

You both breathed in steady, timed exhales as your bed’s mattress gently squeaked.

Everything between you was slippery and Harry’s arms began to shake as his breaths became more labored. He ground himself into you and his pelvis was glued to you, pressing into your clit making your brain mush.

“Shit, Y/n…” he whined when he felt you clench and stiffen. Your legs keeping his crotch and his hips connected to yours.

Your babbled words were unmistakable cries of pleasure as you pulsed around him in your sudden orgasm. Harry choked his own words out, lips against your ear, “My everything. I wanna give you the world…” his strong hold on your body as he released into you ached. You already had bruises on your thighs, your ass, your hips, but every time he whispered sweet nothings into your ear it left a lasting mark on your heart. The bruises on your body were all temporary but you would never forget his words.

. . .

Walking into the Styles’ home knowing you’d be sleeping with him in his bed, the bed he shared with his wife, well… it felt so much more evil than doing it at your apartment. It felt like a blatant disrespect. A clear signal that Harry was allowing you into the space his wife once occupied. Along with his words to you earlier in the day at your apartment, I don’t know if I can ever go back to sleeping next to my wife again now that I get to have you.

“Are you sure this is okay?” You took his hand and looked up at him.

He furrowed his brow and nodded, “Of course it is. Baby, I just want you with me. Thought it would be nice for a change of pace.”

And oh was it nice. Harry’s bed was big and soft and the sheets were buttery. And he made love to you until you both fell asleep. You didn’t even wake once at all during the night because the bed was so nice.

It wasn’t until your alarm went off that you woke up. 9:00 a.m. on the dot. You stretched and yawned and Harry reached for you and groaned with his face in your hair, “Don’t get up.”

You giggled and turned to face him, “I have to work, Harry. And you still have to take me all the way to my apartment so I can get my car.”

“How about I just drop you off and I’ll pick you up when your shift is over and you can come stay here again with me.”

You pressed your lips to his and hitched your thigh over his hip, “Either way, I’ve got to get going.”

“But if I take you to work that’s an extra half hour we’ve got,” his long fingers made their way down your side to your bottom, “that’s an awful lot of extra time.”

“It kind of is actually. We could make a big breakfast. Or… oh! We could get in a run! How does that sound?” You laughed as Harry’s fingers pinched your bum and then moved up to your ribs and he began to tickle you.

“I hate to say, Y/n, but you’re no good at running and you know I’d just be the one to wind up making breakfast. But if that’s really what you want then I guess we can use our time that way instead,” he grinned as he began to move away but you tightened your hold on his hip with your thigh and pulled at his arm.

“Harrrryyyy…” you whined his name with a giggle.

He put his hands up to your face and looked at you innocently, “What is it, honey?”

You rolled your eyes and groaned. He always did this to you. He knew what he was doing and even though his hard cock pressed into your inner thigh was a dead giveaway of the state he was in he was good at making you fold.

You sighed and pressed your palms into his chest, pushing his back into his mattress and straddled him, “I love you, Harry.”

The pleased smile on his face was warm and loving. You pressed yourself over his hard shaft and leaned down to kiss him. It didn’t take long for your body to heat up and your pussy to begin to slip over him easily. With your lips moving together he kept a firm hold over your bottom, fingers reaching around to test you for wetness every now and then.

When you looked at the clock you decided there was little time to waste and you were quite wet so you sat up and pressed yourself down over his tip.

“Shit. Just like that huh? Needed my cock that bad did you?”

You swiveled your hips and moaned softly in answer and Harry’s lips parted with a quiet gasp as you squeezed yourself over him, unhurriedly moving him in and out.

It felt good to have Harry like that in the morning. It was something you didn’t want to be without. And as apprehensive as you were when you got to his house the night before about sleeping with him in the bed his wife slept in you quickly forgot all about what had you feeling bad. Harry saw to it that you were happy and feeling good. As he always did.

You leaned down, pressing your chest into his, Harry had his hands at your bottom, pushing and pulling at you, slipping you up and down his cock as you kissed the edge of his mouth. You both sighed as you pressed your lips together and slowly kissed. You stuffed your fingers into his hair and he grunted when you pulled gently.

But then he lifted his hips and began to thrust up into you, the tip of his cock smushing into your cervix, and you gasped. Harry laughed and then you lifted so you could see his face.

The first swat to your bottom was unexpected and had you yelping and jolting in surprise. But then he did it again and you pulled at his hair, “Haarrryyy…” You moaned his name in protest but it was more like pleasure as he popped your cheek again and you laughed. You squeezed your thighs around his hip to still your movements but he gripped onto the soft flesh of your ass and kept pushing and pulling, causing you to glide up and down his cock.

“Oh my god…” you breathed as you pressed your palms into his chest and moved with him. Your pelvis was tilted over his and it had you fuzzy and moaning with each glide of your clit over him.

“Damn, baby…” Harry squeezed your bum with a pinch, “Your pussy is so creamy. Just drawing my come out little by little like this.” Harry groaned his words. It was true, his steady stream of precome was dribbling into you with each thrust. Your warm, slick walls always drew his cock in deep, milking him perfectly.

“Yeah? S’that feel good, Harry?” You squeezed as you drew your hips up and he moaned, digging his fingers deeper into the meat of your ass, “Cause it feels so good for me.”

“Fuck. M’gonna need it like this every morning. Okay?” He gritted his teeth as he watched you jostle gently over him, your hips canting and tits softly swaying, “Keep you with me for good. Make you all mine, get this fertile, creamy pussy loaded with my sperm every day.”

You coughed out a cry, “Yes! Please!”

Harry shifted himself, bending at the knees, feet flat onto the mattress, and began to push himself upward into you faster. You gasped and held onto his shoulders as he rocked into you from beneath, the sound of wet skin connecting and slipping together filled the room. Now you were being punched up with each of his strokes, deep into your pussy over and over again.

“Want my come, and my babies honey? Would you like that?” Harry’s words were spoken tight and whiney as he trembled from the exertion of his muscled thighs working himself into you.

“Want it. Want you to make me yours,” you spoke between gasps as your cunt tingled in indulgent lust. Your pussy gripped him tight as you felt the ache of his head ramming through your walls.

Harry gasped with your tight squeeze around him, coating him and gliding over his twitching cock. You both cried out, intoxicated with love and physical need.

You couldn’t stop the wave of your orgasm from bursting as you shook and clamped down over Harry. He gripped you tight and continued fucking into you, moving you along his shaft as you came with whimpers and moans.

“Holy…” Harry gasped as he felt you fluttering and clenching around him deliciously. You were a tight fit but you were gushing around him and he used his leverage to tug you up and down, letting you feel all of him as you writhed in ecstasy.

“Oh fuck, honey!” Harry moaned when he felt his orgasm burst out of his balls. He pulled you down onto his hips and pumped himself into your walls, teeth clenched, groaning, chest flushed in heat.

You could feel him twitching and unloading into you as he loudly moaned in rhythmic bursts.

When you finally caught your breath you collapsed onto his chest, still trembling. Harry’s big hands ran up and down your spine soothingly while you both breathed heavily.

Harry brought a hand up to the back of your neck and pulled you up, pushing your mouth to his.

As your lips were still pressed to Harry’s you both heard Fae’s voice suddenly, “Dad?!”

You’d never moved so fast in your life as you pushed yourself off Harry and jumped out of his bed.

Harry sat up quickly and dashed to his dresser to grab a pair of shorts, “Just… stay here…” he glanced at you as he rushed his words out and jumped on one leg to pull his shorts up. Grabbing a shirt he put it over his head and jogged out of his bedroom, closing the door behind him.

You had your hand pressed over your chest and stood between the wall and Harry’s bed as you heard muffled voices coming from downstairs. You couldn’t move for a few moments. Finally, looking around his room you saw your clothes draped over the bench at the foot of the bed along with your bag and purse. Walking toward the bench you shoved your things under the bed and slid your t-shirt on over your head. That had been a very close call.

Harry was surprised that his daughter had stopped by at all. By the time he got to the bottom of the stairs he’d pulled his shirt over his head but his cock was still half hard and his hair was a mess. Not the most ideal way to greet Fae but he didn’t have much choice. Better that than the alternative. He didn’t even want to think about how that would have gone down. His bedroom door had been wide open as you two had been having sex, loudly.

“Hey, hon…” Harry hugged Fae loosely and smiled.

“What were you doing?” She looked him up and down in scrutiny.

“I just woke up a bit ago. Was sitting in bed looking at my phone. Haven’t really done much of anything yet.”

“You’re all sweaty,” she groaned and turned to walk upstairs.

“Where are you going?” Harry rushed behind her.

“I left a suitcase in my room and I wanted to bring it to my apartment,” she paused and turned back to him, “Why are you so jumpy?”

Harry’s heart was pounding. He knew he was probably quite jumpy given the circumstances, “I just didn’t expect you. Caught me off guard.”

Fae looked at him like he was crazy and turned to finish ascending the stairs.

Harry followed close behind his daughter and spoke loudly, “Well, you’re always welcome to stop by Fae. You know that.”

“Why are you shouting? Are you okay?” Fae scrunched her brows and shook her head at her dad.

You heard the commotion and then Harry’s voice. Kneeling down behind the bed you kept your eye on the bedroom door. Just in case Fae should enter.

“Yes, I’m fine. Sorry,” Harry lowered his voice but hoped you heard him. He imagined that you already were hidden and aware of everything going on. He doubted his daughter would need to go into his bedroom but still.

Harry leaned against the door frame as Fae looked through her closet for the suitcase, “It’s not here. Do you think it’s in your room?”

Harry’s heart rate picked up once again, “No. I doubt it. Haven’t seen anything like that in there.”

Fae sighed and peeked under her bed, not finding her suitcase, “I’m just gonna check in your closet if it’s okay,” she spoke as she walked toward Harry who was at her doorway.

Harry put his hands on Fae’s shoulders to stop her, “No! Uh… I’ll go check. Just keep looking. I’ll be right back!”

“Seriously, Dad. What’s wrong? Are you hiding someone in there?” Fae laughed out her last sentence but Harry stopped in his tracks and turned to look at his daughter with wide eyes.

“Why would you say that?”

Fae stopped and cocked her head, “Well, I was kidding. But you’re starting to make me think I wasn’t far off.”

Harry licked his lips and shook his head, speaking loudly once again, “No. Of course, I’m not. I’ll check in my room you just… keep looking in your room. My room’s a mess. I don’t want you to see it.”

However, if there was anything about Fae that was consistent from childhood through adulthood it was that she was nosy, and if she wanted to find out information she would.

You panicked and slid under Harry’s bed just as the door opened. There was no good spot to hide in his bedroom. The bathroom or the closet was an option but those were no better than just being under his bed.

Harry stepped into his room and looked around, not seeing you he moved to quickly look under his bed and saw you on your back with your eyes closed, “Nothing under here,” he spoke loudly and Fae passed him into the room to open his closet.

“Your room’s not messy, Dad. You’re being really weird.” She looked into his closet and up on the shelves, not finding the suitcase.

“Dang. Wonder if Mom took it when she left. I’ll have to call her. You sure nothing’s under your bed?” she stepped toward the bed and Harry quickly hopped in front of her.

“Nothing’s under there. But I think there are a bunch of things in the hall closet. Let’s go check there.”

Fae pointed at her dad, “I’m on to you. Something’s going on here and I’m going to figure it out.”

She walked past him to leave his bedroom and Harry let out the breath he was holding.

You were sure you’d been caught when Fae stepped into his bedroom. At first, you figured there would be no reason for her to go into his room but you were clearly wrong.

You continued to lie still under his bed with your bag at your feet as your heart thumped loudly in your chest until the moment she left. You opened your eyes and waited. You weren’t going to move until you knew for sure the coast was clear.

It took a few minutes. Harry wanted to wait until he saw Fae pull away in her car before he gave you the all-clear.

Running up the stairs toward his room you heard him as he ducked down on the side you were laying, and put his hand on your arm, “Hey, baby. She’s gone.”

He helped you out from under the bed and you felt like you were in shock. The morning had started off so perfectly but the reality of what you were doing crashed down on you when your best friend arrived.

You were even still wet between your legs, Harry’s come on your thighs, as you hadn’t had a chance to clean up.

“I’m sorry, Y/n. Are you okay?” Harry pulled you into his lap. He sat on the rug and cradled you into his arms.

“I don’t know. That was… I feel awful about this.”

Harry put his hand to the back of your head and kissed your forehead, “Don’t feel awful. We can’t help our feelings, Y/n.”

You nodded and closed your eyes, “I know. I just wish the circumstances were different.”

“Me too.”

Fae’s surprise visit put you behind on getting ready. You didn’t have time to shower after wiping up and getting dressed and now you had no choice but to let Harry drop you off at work so you wouldn’t wind up being late.

Harry parked at the front of the restaurant and you leaned in to kiss him goodbye, “Thank you, Harry. See you tonight.”

He grinned and pulled at your arm, pressing his mouth back over yours once again before parting from the kiss, “I’ll be here to pick you up at 8.”

The moment you walked inside your boss was there with a confused look on her face, “Is that your boyfriend?”

You paused and looked outside as Harry’s car drove off and then back at your boss. You hadn’t expected that anyone would see you, “Uh. Yeah. He is.” You figured there was no harm in admitting he was your boyfriend to your boss.

“Interesting.” She gazed out the glass entry into the front, “He looks awfully familiar. Except the man I’m thinking of is married and probably 20 years older than you,” she shook her head and looked back at you. “Same car too.” She raised her brows and sighed as she looked at her watch, “Well, anyway. Your first table was just sat. You should probably go clock in.”

Fuck.

Feedback/Thoughts | Support Me! | Main Masterlist

Thank you for reading! I appreciate any support so remember to comment, reblog, & like 💕

Tags: @zayndrivesmeinvain @i83andrew @shamelessfangirl-3 @onceagainace @princessprongs @stoneyggirl2 @fairytale07 @princessaxoo @littlenatilda @stylesfever @whoreonmondays @harryspirate @lovrave @michellekstyles @yousunshineyoutempter @tenaciousperfectionunknown @golden-hoax @swiftmendeshoran @luvonstyles @tiaamberxx @lukesaprince @dirtytissuebox @closureesny @justlemmeadoreyou @itsgigikay @angelbabyyy99 @lllukulele @lanadelharry @novasblogofstuff @gills-lounge @damnasstyles @malwtilda @walkingintheheartbreaksatellite @0oolookitsme @babybunharry @anothermannharry @love-letters-to-uranus @itjustkindahappenedreally @kelly-fushiguro345 @ssaama @onlyangellucifer @harryistheonlyoneforme @butdaddyilovehim-hs @reveriehs @lc-fics @mema10 @carmenxharry @tswiftsangel @hannahdressedasabanana

1K notes · View notes

justporo · 8 months

Text

Even more fluffy relationship headcanons for Astarion and Tav

Listen guys, I'm not done yet. For now, as soon as I get one idea out, three more pop up in my mind and since you guys seem to really like these (it's seriously and positively insane to me), I'll happily provide you more as long as I am able to. So, let's-a go: more headcanons and little ideas about them being together!

(Gif from here!)

You love when Astarion smiles at you - just openly and full of joy; the sort of smile you've rarely seen from him during your adventures but they keep getting more and more, also they make him look just so young and carefree and beautiful and your heart just... melts

When Astarion quickly notices how you basically faint whenever he does this, he starts employing it to work his charms on you when he needs it - not the real big and joyous smiles though because they are so real and cherished to him he wouldn't dare use it to tease or manipulate you - they're only reserved to make you happy

Charming you is like breathing to Astarion though, you are just so helpless against his flattery and flirting because why would you resist if you could just give him everything that makes him happy?

When you mention once though that you'd hope to gain some immunity to it some time, Astarion is insulted: "No, love, making you blush is my favourite thing in the world. You are so beautiful with your cheeks all flushed. As long as I have a say in it, we will never stop!"

Tav likes teasing him just as much as Astarion enjoys it the other the way around: "You know if you would stop drawing your brows together all the time, it'd take fifty years off your face immediately." Moments of silence in which Astarion is just utterly shocked by your burn, then: "Who taught you to be this brutal, darling?" You raise an eyebrow at him, he helplessly lifts his arms: "Yeah right, I have only myself to blame."

Also, Astarion and Tav are definitely the kind of power couple that throw each other meaningful sassy looks when they're with other people and those are talking shit or something

Also, afterwards they will most definitely discuss and gossip over everything they experienced

Astarion is definitely the kind of man that would shower Tav with gifts, from coming home with a single beautiful flower that "reminded me of you, my beautiful blossom" ("How cheesy..." "Ah, so rather a gouda next time?") or a nice bottle of wine to share to bigger gestures like jewelry or expensive dresses ("When am I ever gonna wear this, Astarion?" "I don't know, we'll just make an opportunity!")

Tav loves all of his gifts but probably the small ones or the hand-crafted ones the most, she's happy with the little things but Astarion insists she deserves the big ones just as much

One time though, Astarion comes home with something else entirely; it's pouring outside and he's completely drenched and hiding something in his doublet jacket; "What do you have there, Astarion, a wheel of cheese?" Astarion carefully opens up his jacket to reveal a small white kitten that is just as drenched as him and is desperately trying to cling to the vampire's chest. "I found her all alone in a dark alleyway, cold and completely soaked, I thought maybe we could take care of her and she could be friends with Scratch?", he says while he carefully lifts up the small ball of fluff with an incredible softness in his eyes. Your heart is thoroughly melting as you walk over to them and you give Astarion the most loving of kisses

Well, the last one would almost be a drabble on it's own, I saw a similar post that made me think of this (I will find and tag them later!) Hope you enjoyed and I'm late for work now, whoops...

This is the post I mentioned before, by @mushy6902 (I hope it's okay I wrote a somewhat similar idea, thanks for inspiring me!)

#astarion #fanfiction #astarion ancunin #baldur's gate 3 #baldur's gate iii #baldurs gate #bg3 spoilers #astarion x mc #astarion x oc #astarion x reader #astarion headcanons #headcanons #fluff #domestic fluff #also kittens #poro headcanons

2K notes · View notes

drewstarkeyslut · 20 days

Text

WICKED GAMES ᡣ𐭩

You were at the bonfire party with your new bf, JJ, and a few of his friends. Rafe watched you from a distance, the whole night, he only took his eyes off of you maybe a handful of times. He wanted to make sure he left before you did. Top and Kelce were talking to him and he would nod his head and smile as if he were even listening to them. His mind was elsewhere, on you, and you only.

It had been a little over a month since you broke up with Rafe and he still never got over it, never got over you. He was sure you two would get back together, but then he saw you with JJ. That’s when he felt his blood boil, eye twitch, his jaw clench and his free, drinkless hand balled into a fist. He didn’t enjoy seeing his girl with her hands all over another, you making out and looking so in love with Maybank made him sick to his stomach. That was you with him just not too long ago and he then realized just how much he loved you, missed you, needed you back and he was going to get you back. He was sure of it.

Warnings: 18+ MDNI, dubcon, cheating by force?, smut (p in v), spitting, choking, creampie, slightly dark!rafe, toxic!rafe

A/N: idk what this is tbh but i randomly thought about this the other day and wrote out a little blurb!!!🫣 if there are any mistakes i apologize😭

3 hours later

You unlock the front door and notice that the whole house was dark, completely pitch black, no lights on in sight. You knew your parents were gone for the night but they usually always left the one light in the main foyer on if they leave when it’s dark out. You didn’t think too much of it, maybe they just forgot. You were tired and just wanted to take a shower and unwind in bed. You walk up the stairs and head for the bathroom, taking a quick shower you step out and wrap the towel around your body.

As you walk down the hallway toward your room, you start to get an eerie feeling. You swore you left the door to your room open when you left the house, but for some reason it was closed. You cautiously stepped in front of the door and open it and peek around. Nothing, except your window being slightly open letting cold air in. A creaking noise coming from the wood floors make you gasp, gripping onto your towel as you spun around. Again, nothing.

“What the fuck…” you whispered to yourself, and walk over to turn the light switch on. When you turned your back and walk close enough to the switch you heard another creak and before you could turn around your mouth was covered with a large ring clad hand, his body pressed against your back. You knew that scent from a mile away. Rafe fucking Cameron. His free hand reaches for his belt, and you hear him unbuckle and slide it right off. You sob underneath his hand.

“Missed me? Oh come on, I know you did. Shhh, it’s going to be okay Y/n. You going to be a good girl f’me and keep that fucking mouth shut if I move my hand hmm?” Rafe breathed in your ear. You nod, not sure what was happening but you were definitely freightened yet turned on. He removes his hand, turning you around to face him and your towel drops to the floor.

“Shit. You’re so fucking beautiful. I missed seeing that pretty little face and tight body of yours.” He rasped and eyed you as he gripped your wrists behind your back and tightly wrapped his belt around them.

“Rafe, h-how..” You stutter.

“What baby girl, cat got your tongue?” Rafe grips your chin, squeezing your cheeks and planting a kiss on your lips. You squirm and he pulls away.

“How did you get in my house? I fucking broke up with you almost two months ago! Why now? I’m with JJ now and you know that. You obsessed with me or something? Are you just fucking insane?! I don’t want you, anymore. Don’t you get it?!!” You scream, trying to free yourself from Rafe’s grip. He just stares at you, a blank look on his face. It ticked you off so you spit on his face, landing right underneath his eye.

“Oh. Now you fucking did it. You little brat!” Rafe grips your hair and slams your head back into the wall. He wipes the spit of his face and brings that hand to his mouth as he spits and smears it on your cheek then grabs you by your throat.

You don’t cower, you just stare into Rafe’s darkened eyes. “What are you going to do to me? Whatever it is just get it over with and fucking go. I want you to leave.” You sighed. You start to think about JJ and how you wish you were still with him right now especially in this moment. You wish you had asked him to stay the night.

“Maybank doesn’t deserve you. I do. I know what you like, what you want, what you need. He doesn’t know you like I do Y/n and you know it..even if it’s deep down in you. You should be with me.” Rafe boomed.

“You don’t know what the fuck I want anymore, Rafe.” You mutter. Lie. He still knew exactly what turned you on, that’s for sure.

“I know you’re turned on right now. You’re a slut. My little slut Y/n. You know you want this.” Rafe coos. He presses his bulge against you and plants kisses down your neck, making your legs buckle and heart beat faster.

You tried to stop yourself from feeling things because it wasn’t with JJ. This was Rafe, your ex the one you tried your best to stay away from. Your body was betraying you and you couldn’t fight it. Rafe pulls away from your neck and grabs your hair pulling you down to the floor onto your knees. He wins.

“Look at me Y/n. Open up.” Rafe grabs your chin forcing you to look into his eyes, spits in your mouth and with his other hand he shoves two fingers into your mouth. “I’m going to fuck you so god damn hard, you’re going to forget who JJ is. The only cock you’ll be needing and begging for is mine.” Rafe growled.

“Whatever you say. Give it to me already then. You going to pound this pussy or what?” You taunted once he let his fingers slip right out of your mouth. You were horny now and you couldn’t deny even if you wanted to.

“Don’t fucking test me brat!” Rafe grabs you by the arm and throws you against the bed, on your stomach. “I want you to say it.”

“What the fuck do you want me to say?” You retort, sticking your ass up for Rafe to have the best view of your round ass.

“Say that you want my cock, that you need me to fuck you.” Rafe grins and licks his lips.

“I want you to fuck me until I can’t breathe anymore Rafe. I want you to ruin me.” You smirk, looking behind you as Rafe takes his clothes off until he’s completely stripped down. Your mouth salvitates at the sight of his rock hard cock dripping with precum.

“Mmm that’s what I like to hear my little slut.” Rafe groans, shoving your head into the mattress and lining his cock up to your slick entrance.

“Fuck, so god damn tight and fucking dripping f’me baby girl.” Rafe grunts, thrusting his length in and out of your cunt, hitting the right spot.

“Oh—my god! Raaaaafe! Fuck, yes, yes!” You screamed.

“Tsk tsk, what would JJ think of you if he knew my cock was stretching your pretty little pussy out and you were screaming my name hmm? Such a fuckin’ slut.” Rafe laughs as he slaps your ass, pounding his cock into you even harder, ten times faster.

“Fuck you Rafe, but fuuuuck you feel so damn good. I hate you.” You mumble in a breathy tone. His cock filling you up felt too good to be thinking about anything else in the moment, especially JJ.

He shifts, lifting your leg up from underneath your knee, his cock brutally slamming back into your pussy and his other hand covers your mouth. “Ah, ah. Do you ever just shut up? Be a good girl, keep quiet and take this fucking cock.” Rafe bellowed and all you could do was moan underneath his large hand.

“I’m going to cum in this pussy baby girl and you’re going to go to sleep with my cum inside of you tonight.” Rafe whispers in your ear, his breathing becoming erratic as he was close to his climax.

He became rougher with every thrust, your pussy felt so sore you swear you wouldn’t be able to walk for days. His hand falls from your mouth and reaches forward rubbing circles on your clit.

“Rafe, mhmm just like that. Oh right there. Fuck I’m cumming!” You screamed, your legs were shaking from your orgasm. You haven’t came that hard in a while.

“Shit— m’gonna cum! You ready for it my little cumslut? Yeah? You want to be filled to the brim?” Rafe moans out. His dick throbbing and pulsating as he released his load deep into your sweet wet cunt.

“This was a one time thing Rafe, won’t happen again. Take this belt off of my wrists and go, please.” You mutter, frustratednow that it was over that you let Rafe get to your head and your body. He unwraps the belt from your wrists but brings it to your neck and throws you down on the bed using the belt to keep you down.

“No Y/n. See that’s where you’re wrong. I will fuck you whenever I please. You’re mine, I don’t give two shits about JJ. When I call you, you will pick up. Do you understand?” Rafe snaps as he hovers over you.

“I—I understand Rafe.” You whimper. You watch Rafe get dressed and walk out the door. Fuck! Rafe Cameron will be the death of me.

mooties/taglist: @drudyslut @rafesthroatbaby @babygorewhore @oceandriveab @mellillasstuff @anqeliclust @rafescurtainbangz @rafesmuse @redhead1180 @angelofcigs @rowanswriting @beautifuldisaster88 @pankowperfection @psychwxrdd @cokepewpsii

431 notes · View notes

boydepartment · 4 months

Text

“your new hair is nice.” - jay park x reader

a/n: this is a one shot from this ask :3 i was really excited to write it here you goooooo <3

warnings: angst to comfort! nothing too insane!! reader is stressed and snaps. jay is pretty much an angel

WC- 500-700

MASTERLIST

when you got home you saw that the dishes still weren’t done and the blankets on the sofa weren’t folded. you sighed and walked to the kitchen- head in hands. all you asked was for jay to clean up just a little bit.

you had classes plus extra tutoring this day and just wanted a nice clean house to go home to.

your boyfriend clearly did not do that.

you sighed and leaned against the counter looking at the dishes, “fuck…” mumbling you rolled your sleeves up and started cleaning. your hands hurt from writing notes and typing but what needs to be done- needs to be done.

“hey baby welcome home!” jay walked into the kitchen, new hair, he looked good, great even. but you were upset.

“hi.” you said quickly and continued to do the dishes. jay frowned and walked closer to you, “don’t.” you interrupted him.

“i’m upset with you right now.” you put the dish under the now steaming sink water.

jay’s brows furrowed, “why?”

“why? i asked you to do the dishes and they’re still not done? usually you’re not like this so i don’t understand why they aren’t done.” you snapped looking at him now. jay looked at you astonished.

“i texted you saying i had work today and my hair appointment.” jay said, “i literally texted you that when i got home i would do it.”

you put the damp towel on your shoulder, “okay then how come i come home and you’re not doing shit?!”

jay tried not to raise his voice or get mad. he understood that school was stressing you out. he would never blame you for that.

“i just changed into my indoor clothes. i was about to walk into the kitchen to start the chores.” he spoke calmly.

“fine then you fucking do it im going to take a shower.” you snapped again and walked to your guys’ room. you felt tears weld in your eyes, you didn’t mean to snap at him. you didn’t know why you were like this right now.

sighing again you went to the bathroom to shower and you started to full on cry. jay was always a good boyfriend. calm, puts up with you, never hurts you, cooks, cleans, everything. you at some point even thought about marrying him.

the thought made you cry harder, he would never want to marry you after this.

when you got out of the shower you got dressed and went to the hall closet to grab and extra blanket. you could just sleep on the throw pillows.

your shared bedroom door was cracked open and jay was already in bed.

you frowned and went to the couch, it was almost an unspoken thing to punish yourself.

when you got to the couch you bundled yourself up and faced the cushion. your back facing the open end of the couch and you started crying again.

you felt so bad snapping at him. it wasn’t his fault at all, it really was just a misunderstanding.

you sniffled a bit and tried to fall asleep.

you were startled when a soft comforting hand was rubbing your back, you shot up and looked at him.

“jay?”

jay looked at you, your hair sticking out everywhere, eyes puffy and red from crying. jay still thought you looked beautiful.

“baby what’re you doing sleeping out here?” he asked softly, “it’s too cold to sleep on the couch.”

you shook your head no and started crying again, jay caught your tears instantly.

“y/n… it’s okay… stop crying.” your boyfriend wiped your tears away, “i know it’s stressful right now…”

“i didn’t mean to snap at you i’m so sorry.” you blubbered out, “you’re never going to want to marry me after this…”

jay felt himself chuckle, “i still want to baby.”

you shook your head still crying, “i’m sorry.”

jay nodded, “i forgive you baby…” he sleepily smiled and kissed your forehead, “next time i’ll call you and we won’t have any misunderstandings okay?”

you hummed in agreement and looked at him, “your new hair is nice…” you mumbled, you were starting to calm down. your drowsiness staring to take over

jay chuckled and scooped you up, “you can compliment it more in our bed.”

you hugged him close to you as he carried you back to bed.

818 notes · View notes

spacesquidlings · 7 months

Text

Hold Me, Carry Me Slowly; My Sunlight

Description: With the warmth of the afterglow fading, Tav manages to coax Astarion into a bath, to show him all the ways she loves him and to hold him close until the water grows cold.

Warnings: Suggestive content, implied sex, mentions of blood, mentions of other bodily fluids

Notes: Hello!!! This is my very first attempt at writing Astarion. Saw him once, fell in love, went insane, now i'm writing fic about him and I cannot stop. I want to just squish his cheeks and tell him how lovely he is. This is set post-everything that happens in game, and he's unascended

********************

Heavy curtains drawn across the windows stifled any hope of light sneaking in between the threads. It did not even bleed through the leaden fabric, staining the room in a strange glow the way wispy, gossamer curtains often did. But she did not need the curtains drawn to know that night had descended. The hazy burn of dusk across the sky had long since faded, a chill hanging in the air that bit at her bare skin that could only belong to the fathomless night.

Pulling blankets tighter around herself did little to stave off the sting of the air, siphoning away the last of the heat from her skin. And nestling closer to the body beside her was not the improvement she’d been looking for, the press of her skin against his bringing discomfort from everything that had spilled onto her skin into stark awareness.

There was blood; her blood, dried and caked on the inside of her thighs and her throat from where she’d let his fangs sink into her flesh. There was sweat of course, still drying on her skin, making her feel itchy, like a second, ill-fitting skin had been plastered across her. And she could feel where his release leaked out of her, where it had been smeared on the inside of her thighs, where it was congealing on the sheets beneath her.

So not only was she cold, but she felt very gross. And very much in need of a bath.

But she was wrapped up in her lover’s arms, and he seemed intent on holding her close, his soft breaths ghosting across her collarbone.

“Astarion,” she whispered, running a hand through his hair. It was softer than silk, and still cool to the touch despite how she had run her fingers through it, twisted them into his curls at every chance she got. He sighed against her, his lashes fluttering as he shifted.

“Astarion.” She slid her hand down to the nape of his neck, playing with the wispy baby hairs that curled there. “I know you’re awake.”

“So what if I am?” His response was muffled, rumbling through her bones from where he pressed his face against her bare chest.

She traced her finger over the curve of his ear, biting the inside of her cheek as he shivered. “I want to take a bath.”

His only response was a groan, clutching her tighter.

“I feel sticky.”

“I’m far too comfortable to move, love.”

She huffed, resting her cheek on the top of his head. “I’m covered in dried blood! And other things.”

Now he did lift his head, his crimson eyes bright in the shadows of the room. She caught the glimmer of his teeth as he smiled, his canines looking especially deadly in the dark. “You could know I could help if there’s something you’d like inside of you.”

A few hours ago his words might have made her blush, might have made her flustered enough to try and look away before he inevitably caught her to tease her some more. But his voice was heavy with sleep, his words more of a quiet murmur than anything seductive. It just sounded a little silly, and she snorted, a smile spreading across her lips.

“You could help by letting me go and letting me bathe.”

Now he was the one huffing, shifting until they were eye-to-eye, his arms never leaving her sides. “And why would I want to do that when I’m so comfortable right here?”

“Because you love me?” She cupped his face in her hands, squishing his cheeks just the tiniest bit. He was always giving her odd looks when she did it, squishing his face or showering his head in kisses or hugging him as tight as she dared. But even if one brow was arched in question, he always smiled softly, his eyes warm with contentment. As if perhaps he liked the sudden onslaught of affection, even if it seemed a little strange.

He chuckled, idly stroking her side. “I do love you. More than anything.”

She leaned closer, until their noses practically bumped together. “So you’ll come bathe with me?”

His brows rose, one arm releasing her as he trailed his hand up her arm. “Are you sure there’s nothing else you’d rather be doing?”

She didn’t bother to respond with words this time, simply whining, putting on her best pout and hoping it would be enough to sway him.

A snort. “Nice try, darling. But I like having you here in my arms.”

Not nice enough, clearly. She whined again, louder this time, leaning her head against his shoulder.

“Please, my love?” She went so far as to whimper, peeking up at him through her lashes, fingers still toying with his hair. “Please? You could come with me and then it would be so much nicer.”

He hummed, smirking as she wiggled closer, ignoring the stickiness between her thighs and the dull ache radiating through her nerves.

“Please?”

His eyes closed, and she knew she had won before he even started to sigh. But he did sigh, long and dramatic and very drawn out.

“Fine,” he finally conceded, fixing a glare on her that was entirely undercut by the smile still playing at his lips. “If you must. But you had better make sure to use those new oils I bought us. I don’t want to be smelling like cheap bar soap you found at a farmer’s market.”

“That’s not fair! It had smelled so pretty when I’d bought it.” She frowned, ducking her head. “I don’t know what happened that made it so plain.”

He tucked her hair back behind her ear, slowly dragging his knuckles down the side of her neck, his eyes softening. “It was probably enchanted to smell that way until it had been purchased. Or perhaps they simply tricked you and only the display one was perfumed.” He smirked. “Which is why you need me to help select the best perfumes and soaps.”

Rolling her eyes, she nuzzled her nose against his neck. “What would I do without you, my love?”

“You would be lost.”

“And I’d smell bad.” She smiled as he laughed, warmth blooming like a new flower in the spring.

“Thank goodness you do have me,” he murmured, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. “And you’ll have me forever.”

If not for the chill in the air and the discomfort clinging to her skin, she probably could have stayed there for an eternity. He’d teased her mercilessly for how much she’d loved to curl up in his arms, but he’d always seemed just as keen to cuddle with her, his arms fitting perfectly around her, his breath tangling in her hair or tickling her neck, his hands stroking her sides or her back.

But she was cold, and she was uncomfortable, and as perfect as his arms and his body were, she felt desperate enough to peel her skin off if she did not bathe soon.

It was with a pathetic whine that she coaxed him from the bed, hands clasping his as she dragged him from the bedroom. He grumbled wordlessly, even as he let himself get tugged into the bathroom, eyes narrowed as they adjusted to the darkness.

She could hardly see in the dark, and it was only with Astarion’s help that she was able to light the candles that lined the counter in the bathroom, illuminating everything in a soft glow.

It was an effort to keep her eyes averted, to pretend like she didn’t think he looked beautiful, the edges of his body blurred by the candlelight, his face softened by the golden glow. He looked a little like his namesake, like a star given form, blessing her with his light.

Although if she told him that she would certainly never hear the end of it. Even now she could feel his eyes burning into her back as she filled the tub, tracking the steam as it curled towards the ceiling and melted out of sight.

“My love.” She felt his hand at her hip, soft as a whisper. She knew this game, knew he wanted her to turn around, to focus her attention on him. She could hear it in the lilt of his voice, the laughter she could hear in it though neither of them had made a joke. “Why won’t you look at me?”

“What do you mean?” She was careful to avoid meeting his gaze, gently brushing her hand over his. “I’m getting the bath ready. Alone, might I add.”

“Well, I’m here for moral support. And you’re doing such a good job I’d hate to get in your way.”

Against her better judgement she turned to glare at him over her shoulder. It earned her a bout of warm laughter that seeped into her veins like sun-warmed honey, heat blossoming in her belly. It was immediately followed by his hands taking her face, his lips stretching into a wide smile, the knife-sharp points of his canines glinting in the candlelight.

“That’s better.” He tipped his head to the side, his eyes softening. “I was worried you had grown tired of looking at me.”

She covered his hands with hers. “I’ll never grow tired of you for as long as I live.”

Lines appeared on his forehead as his brows drew together. So she stood on her toes, gently pressing her lips to each line until they were smoothed away and she could feel his smile against her skin. His hands slid away from her face, but she kept her fingers tangled with his, not wanting to let go just yet.

“My love…” He trailed off, humming as he lowered his head, the coolness of his teeth scraping over her skin making her shiver. “Wasn’t there something else you were doing?”

“You distracted me.” His answering laughter tickled her neck as he hovered above the marks leftover from where he had bitten her.

“You were preparing a bath, I believe?”

She took hold of his face this time as she rocked back on her heels, pulling his head back just enough to meet his eyes, to see the mischief shining in them. “You know, I think this is the exact opposite of getting in my way.”

“I have no idea what you mean.” He was awfully good at feigning innocence; his eyes were wide and sorrowful, a small pout pulling at his lips. Had she not known him she would have fallen for it entirely, believing him utterly innocent of any wrong-doing.

But she did know him, and she knew exactly how not innocent he could be.

She clicked her tongue. “Nice try. Maybe I’ll just bathe on my own.”

She spun around quickly, biting the inside of her cheek to stop herself from laughing as he began to whine, trying to get her attention all over again.”

“My love.”

She went searching for his precious oils, finding them lined up in the corner of the small cabinet above the counter. They seemed to shimmer as she held them up to the light, as she uncorked them to smell them each and make sure she was grabbing the right ones. He was so particular about such things and she wanted to make sure she got it right.

“My darling.” His voice pitched up, cracking a bit as she began adding the oils to the bath. “I thought you wanted me to come with you!”

Much as she wanted to pretend she had a strong resolve, it crumbled to dust with just the slightest of provocation from him. How she was supposed to ignore his desperate whining, even when she knew it was a trap, was beyond her. So when he reached for her hand, drawing her closer, she didn’t resist, instead letting herself be gathered against his chest, his smug smirk illuminated in the glow of the candles.

“Well? Do you truly still plan to leave me and bathe all on your own?” One of his hands slipped down her side, leaving gooseflesh in the wake of his featherlight touch. “I could be of help, you know. I’ve become quite intimate with your body, I’m sure I could help in some way.”

She frowned. “Don’t get any funny ideas.”

His answering laughter was bright, like summertime sunshine was bathing them in its golden light. It made her smile, giggles bubbling up in her throat as he laughed, pale cheeks flushing with just a hint of colour, the same pink that promised the coming dawn and the warmth that would follow.

His expression was soft again as his laughter passed, as he waited for her own bout of giggles to melt away, that soft colour still clinging to his skin. It took her a moment to identify the look in his eyes, the gentleness with which he held her gaze, with how he rested his hands at her sides. And when the realization hit her, she felt like her breath was stolen away, yanked from her lungs with a gasp.

He looked happy. He looked so genuinely happy that her eyes began to burn, her heart aching from how it pressed against the cage of her ribs.

Lines appeared on his brow once more, the corners of his lips turning down. “What’s wrong? My darling, why are you crying?”

She shook her head, wiping her eyes quickly. “I’m not.”

“Just because I can’t go out into the sun doesn’t mean I’m blind, you know.” He huffed, mouth curling into a half-smile, something like sadness hanging at the edges. “Have I done something wrong?”

She sniffed, shaking her head furiously. “No! No, not at all. I just have something caught in my eye, that’s all.”

Nothing in his expression said he believed her, but he didn’t push the issue. “Well then, should we get in before the water gets cold?” He leaned close, his voice dipping to a sultry tenor. “Or is there something else you would rather do?”

She didn’t even have to respond before he was laughing again, grinning broadly as he drew back. “My darling, you make this far too easy. Your face is all flushed and I’ve hardly done a thing.”

He’d actually done quite a lot of things today, but her tongue was suddenly too heavy to properly articulate anything sharp and witty she could say in response. And she didn’t have anything sharp and witty to say in response either, a pleasant fog settling over her mind as fatigue tugged at her.

Instead she just climbed into the tub, sinking as far beneath the water as she could, only her nose and eyes still above water as he followed behind, still looking far too pleased with himself.

He reached for the little shelf of bottles that lined the wall next to the tub, the soft light of the flickering candles casting a golden glow around the room. If she hadn’t known him she would have thought he was an angel with how the light gilded his features, twined with the strands of his hair and made it glow. Even that infuriating, devilish smile looked soft in the light, still clinging to his lips as he tilted one of the bottles up to the light.

Her eyes were burning again, her chest aching, too small for her heart, for all of the emotion tearing it apart at the seams. Had there ever been such a beautiful smile? Had there ever been such a precious person ever before?

No, she was certain that there had not been.

He was watching her, and she realized it with a start, her breath catching as she met his eyes.

“What’s the matter, pet? You look like you’ve had a spell cast over you.”

She bit down on her tongue hard enough to taste blood, although the fuzzy feeling around her mind and the warmth in her chest did not dissipate against the sharp pain. She had drunk no wine and yet she felt a little drunk all the same, a little like she was hovering just beyond her body, her edges blurry, everything warm.

He moved closer, taking her hand. “What’s on your mind?”

She opened her mouth, closed it again, like a fish gasping for breath on dry land. She really could not say, not unless she wanted to be teased mercilessly, caught gawking at him like a child with a crush.

“Well?” He tipped his head to the side, reminding her of a predator.

Her voice would not come to her, and so she decided that she would express how she felt in a different way, her heart wishing terribly to be able to keep his heart warm, to keep that smile bright on his lips, to keep his eyes soft but never sorrowful again.

“What are you doing?” He blinked at her as she plucked the small bottle of shampoo from his hand, the sensual countenance falling away.

“Let me help you clean up,” she said, rolling the bottle between her palms. “I can wash your hair for you.”

He continued to blink, his brow creasing. Her heart constricted, fear sluicing through her veins, making her fear she had overstepped, that this was something unwanted. She’d already coaxed him from sleep, perhaps she was pushing against his boundaries.

“Only if you want to,” she amended. “If you’re comfortable with it. I don’t want to do anything you’re uncomfortable with.”

When he tipped his head to the side it was less predatory this time, reminding her more of the curious head tilt small animals often did when you were speaking to them with a cadence they liked. The corners of his eyes crinkled as he smiled. “You just can’t keep your hands off me, can you, darling?”

She muttered under her breath about how much of a menace he was, even as she squeezed out the shampoo into her palm. He was smirking, watching her intently.

“You have to turn around,” she instructed, earning nothing but a rebellious smirk.

“Now why would I do that when it means I can’t see your adorable face?” He twirled a hand in the air, gesturing to her face. “I wouldn’t want to miss out on the pretty flush on your cheeks.”

She tried spinning him around, water sloshing over the lip of the tub. “Turn around! How else am I supposed to wash your hair?!”

“Just like this, darling.” He cupped her face, water sluicing down his arms, falling back into the tub with a quiet plinking.

“I feel like you’re trying to embarrass me.”

He clicked his tongue. “I would never dare.”

“I think you would dare.” She couldn’t bring herself to push his arms away, deciding she would have to yield. “I think you would just to see me squirm.”

“Well…” Unable to come up with an appropriate excuse, he merely shrugged. “I like that colour on your cheeks.”

“I didn’t realize you were an artist,” she deadpanned, lathering the shampoo between her palms. “And that you had such a nuanced appreciation of colours.”

“Only when it comes to you, love.”

She sighed, no clever rejoinder coming to mind. She liked getting the last word in, but Astarion so rarely gave her such an opportunity. He always had something else to say, something sharp and clever if not something that would make her blush so fiercely she thought she would burst into flame.

“Fine.” She rolled her eyes. “But you have to lower your head for me.”

He had no smart comment for that, instead quietly acquiescing, ducking his head enough so that she could run her fingers through his hair, dragging the shampoo through the silken strands.

She hummed, smiling as the gentle, moonlit ivory waves were smushed beneath the shampoo. She might have gathered it all up into a point, making him look a little silly while he trusted her to wash his hair. But he was always trying to make himself look perfect, and she didn’t mind when he looked less than perfect, when he looked silly or disheveled. He didn’t have to pretend with her, and she didn’t want him to.

“You’re doing something ridiculous to my hair, aren’t you?” He seemed to read her thoughts, peeking up at her from beneath his ivory lashes.

“Nooo.” She shook her head, massaging his scalp. “I would never dare.”

“So you are.”

She huffed, pouting as she ran her fingers down the back of his scalp, pressing gently against the back of his neck, making sure to catch the soft baby hairs that curled there.

“I trust it won’t look like that forever?” The corners of his lips quirked up, his voice dipping to a dangerous octave. “Right?”

She didn’t respond, fixing her gaze elsewhere, trying to ignore the way his eyes bored into her skin.

Another click of his tongue. She nearly leapt out of her skin when she felt his hand on her face, the pad of his thumb running across her bottom lip. “Why are you pouting? I thought this is what you wanted.”

“And I thought you were too tired to tease me like this.”

He tapped his thumb against her lip in time with her heartbeat. “I never said that.”

“I kind of assumed.”

“My love, I’m never too tired to tease you.” His hand fell back into the water with a quiet splash. “But please continue.”

“I’m just about done with your hair,” she admitted, dunking her hands into the water. “You’ll have to lean forward more or tilt your head back so I can rinse it.”

He straightened, shifting awkwardly so he could tip his head back, the sharp points of his ears grazing the surface of the water, sending out little ripples.

She scooted to the side, careful to keep the water from spilling into his eyes as she began scooping it up and pouring handfuls of water into his hair. “You know this would have been easier if you’d just turned around.”

He splashed her, rolling his eyes. “I have my reasons.”

“Would you care to divulge them?” She splashed him right back, not bothering to show the same care this time as water and suds sluiced over his face.

He sputtered, wiping his eyes. “Well not anymore, you wicked thing.”

“I think I’m quite nice.”

He flicked water at her as he sat up. “You’re not being particularly nice right now.”

She splashed him again, harder this time. Water rolled over the lip of the tub like ocean waves, puddling across the floor. “I am SO nice! I’m the nicest! I let you pick out the shampoos and soaps we use! I let you pick out the curtains! I let you be the little spoon!”

The more reasons she was, theoretically, “nice,” the more she laughed. Small giggles at first, bubbling into a laughter that gripped her lungs, shook her body until she was snorting with every breath. Her hands trembled as she tried to cover her face in a vain effort to staunch the flow, but it was of no avail. She felt like a fool, she felt dizzy, almost drunk although she’d had no alcohol.

Astarion snorted alongside her, eyes crinkling in bemusement. “I can let you be the little spoon if you want, my love. I had no idea you were sacrificing so much for my comfort.” Another snort, another flick of the water, sending her into another fit of hysterics. His lips stretched wide, a crescent moon smile that made her heart glow. “I didn’t realize falling asleep in my arms was something of such importance. Although I shouldn’t be surprised.”

Backing up until her back hit the edge of the tub, she covered her face, shoulder shuddering with laughter. “It’s not even that funny, I don’t know why I’m laughing.”

“I’m not sure either.” He moved closer, just enough to find her hand and run his thumb across her knuckles. “But I like the sound.”

“I was snorting!”

“But they were such cute snorts.” He was tracing the lines of her palm now, watching her with such warmth in his eyes she thought she would melt into the water and turn to suds and foam.

“You can’t possibly mean that.”

His bottom lip popped out; an adorable, impossible to resist pout that could make her to cave to almost anything he asked. To stay in bed for a little while longer, to buy him that pretty shirt they’d seen at a night market, to wear the glittering circlet he had mysteriously procured because it matched one that he owned.

“Don’t you trust me?” His eyes were wide as a doe’s, his voice soft as feather down. She was lost to him already, to that sorrowful, beseeching look. Lost to that quiet, almost whiny tone.

She knew she was being played, but there wasn’t a thing she could do about it.

It was with gritted teeth that she managed a quiet. “I trust you.”

His expression morphed almost immediately, his eyes bright once more, his teeth bared from the brightness of his smile. “Marvelous! I’m glad we’re in agreement that you’re adorable.”

“You’re awful.”

He kissed the back of her hand, his laughter rumbling into her bones. “And I’m all yours, my darling.”

Gentle warmth spread from her heart, beating steadily, spurred on by the sudden sweetness of his words. Her arms grew warm next, her belly, her fingertips, everything tingling as if she were caught in a warm haze. He was all hers, he was hers to love and care for and cherish. To hold close when they slept, to share the quiet moments with, to share the loud moments with too. Of course. There would always be loud moments with him, the unexpected always rearing its head as they searched for a cure for him, a way for him to stand free in the sunlight.

“You are,” she agreed. He was hers, and he had given his heart to her willingly. It had been his choice, and she would make sure to treasure it, to treasure him, for as long as she drew breath. And as long as her heart beat, it beat for him. “And I’m yours.”

A strange look came upon his face then, something between sadness and elation, something she could not name. It was gone far too quickly for her to dissect it, his lips brushing against her hand once more before he drew away, a smile plastered on his face once more.

“You most certainly are, my darling.” He gave her hand one final squeeze before letting it go, twirling a hand through the air as he gestured to his hair. “Now about whatever you’ve done here.”

“Will you turn around now?” Whatever had snagged her attention briefly flitted away. Suds were streaking down the sides of his face, his hair half matted, pure ivory with the shampoo still caked into his scalp.

It was only with a long, petulant sigh that he turned around, laying back so his head was nearly in her lap so she could finish rinsing his hair.

“Now was that so hard?” She teased, supporting his head with one hand while she used the other to pour palmfuls of water onto his hair.

“It was torturous. I couldn’t see you for a whole minute.”

“Oh please.” She ran her fingers through his hair, trying to comb out the rest of the shampoo. “You’re such a baby.”

His brow furrowed. “I am not! I’ll have you know I’m over two hundred years old-”

She sighed, rolling her eyes as she cut him off. “Yes yes, you’re an over two hundred year old vampire, you’re terrifying and powerful and someone to be feared. But you’re still a baby.”

His eyes narrowed, his mouth opening as if to retort.

“And you’re my baby,” she finished, cutting him off once again.

She swore colour flared in his cheeks, at the tips of his ears. He looked away quickly, whatever sharp comment he’d been about to make dying before it made it to his lips. “I suppose it’s acceptable when you say it like that.”

Curling forward she brushed her lips to his brow, listening as he sighed.

He started to lift his head as she drew away, chasing after her in search of another kiss, but she gently coaxed him back down, cradling the back of his head once more. “Just relax, love.”

At first he did not relax, his eyes flickering to her face and along the shadowed ceiling of the room. But after a while she felt as he settled himself more comfortably against her. His upper back was cushioned atop her legs, his head cradled in her palm, just above her thighs, his legs drawn up so his knees cut through the water like mountains on the other side of an ocean.

“Let me know if anything is uncomfortable, okay?” She ran her hand around the sides of his ears, making sure she caught the last of the suds, making sure to rinse his hair fully so that when it dried it would be fluffy and soft just as it always was. She combed her fingers across his scalp, massaging gently, smiling as he gave a quiet hum of assent. The lines in his brow were smoothed away, his face softened in the light. He looked peaceful, serene as she rinsed the last of the shampoo away.

She could have told him to move then, that she was done and he had to sit up, but she found she did not want to, could not bring herself to be pried from this position. His weight against her was a comfort, the tranquil look on his face a balm to her heart, his even breaths lulling her into her own state of peace.

He looked calm, he looked happy, and she was loath to end the moment, for that gentle stillness to melt into the suds and bathwater.

So instead she reached for his preferred soaps, lathering it between her palms and running her hands over his shoulders, massaging the soap into his skin.

He shifted, a brow arching. “What are you doing now, my love?”

“Cleaning you up,” she said, pausing as worry flitted through her mind. “I’m sorry, I should have asked.”

His eyes opened, and where she had expected accusation she saw only the softness that accompanied a flower just beginning to bloom, petals not yet the brilliant crimson of blood. “You don’t need to apologize. It’s nice.” He sighed, eyes falling closed once more. “And I trust you.”

She was thankful to be sitting, because she was certain her legs would have given out on her from hearing such words from his lips.

She carried on, moving her hands over his arms and hands, sliding them back up to wash his chest, his torso. Eventually she did have to ask him to sit up, water sluicing down his back as she fetched a cloth to wash his back, careful to ensure her touch was light as she ran it over the lines of his scar. Her stomach still roiled when she saw it, remembering the sharp pain in his voice when he’d told her of its history, and when she remembered the scarlet light that he had been bathed in, that had set the scar aglow.

She bit down on her tongue until she tasted blood, forcing herself back into the present. That was behind them, it was behind him, and he would never have to fear his old vampire master agait. There was no more ritual, no more control, no more sacrifice. The scars would never glow again, they would never be anything more than scars. Fading reminders of a shadowed life and misery she would do everything she could to make sure he never felt ever again.

Suds spilled down his back, and she brought cupped hands of water to the nape of his neck, letting the water spill down his back as she began wiping up the suds. “Let me know if you feel uncomfortable at all, okay?” She scooped up more water and watched as it spilled down his back, washing away the last of the suds.

He gave a quiet hum of assent, seeming content to let her do as she wished for the moment. He was turned away from her, but she imagined the peaceful expression that must have been on his face. The dreamy smile, the pale pink of his cheeks, the same expression he often had when he first awoke, serene and blissful like he were caught in a beautiful dream.”

“I love you.” She murmured the words as she brought her lips to the back of his neck. “I love you so much.”

The quietness of the moment should have concerned her, but she’d written it off as him still being sleepy as she continued. She alternated between washing him up and scattering stray kisses along his skin. His shoulders, his sides, his arms. She made sure to catch all the little crooks of his body, fingers tangling together with his for half a heartbeat as she trailed soap and suds over his arms again before she rinsed him off.

“Alright.” She’d only just dunked the cloth back into the sudsy water, eying the lineup of pretty, colourful bottles along the shelf next to the tub, trying to figure out which ones were his favourites. They were unlabelled, but she knew what scents he liked best. “Don’t tell me which one is your favourite, okay? I think I know.”

She rested her cheek against his shoulder as she reached for the closest one, the one she was pretty sure smelled of bergamot. It was only then, as her fingers closed around the little bottle, did she notice the slight tremble of his shoulders, the soft sniffling sound that was quickly drowned out by the splash of water.

She drew back at once, the bottle slipping from her fingers and plunging into the water. For such a dramatic moment, as her breath caught in her lungs, she would have thought it would have made a louder sound as it crashed from her hand. But no, the bottle made little more than a quiet plink as it slipped beneath the surface of the water, the silence hanging in the air heavy, deafening in comparison.

“Astarion?” Her heart constricted, her lungs shuddering as they tried and failed to draw in breath. She hesitated before settling her hands on his shoulders, not knowing what else to do. “My love? Is something the matter?”

A beat. It was little more than half a moment but it could have been a century for how the time stretched between her question and his response.

“Nothing, darling.” His voice was much softer than usual, so soft she would have missed the tremor in it had she not been so close, had she not felt as it vibrated through him, resonating between them in the place where she had laid her palms.

“It’s not nothing.” She wanted to see his face, wanted to see what he was hiding. But when she leaned forward he turned his head away, nothing but his damp curls filling her sight.

“Astarion.” She settled one hand on his arm, the other brushing his hair back from his ear. “My love, why won’t you look at me?”

He cleared his throat, one hand coming up to rub at the side of his face. “It’s nothing. I think there’s some soap in my eye.”

“Let me see,” she insisted, reaching for his face. She cupped the cheek furthest from her, gently drawing his face towards her. “If there’s soap in your eye let me help get it out.”

He did not put up any resistance, although when he finally faced her fully he did not meet her eyes. Instead he just stared down into the water, his hands awkwardly clenched together in his lap. Red rimmed his eyes, his cheeks a splotchy red that spoke of tears, not the gentle flush of contentment or love. His face was wet, although that was most certainly from the bath as much as it was from his quiet tears.

Her hand slipped from his cheek along the curve of his neck, pausing only to rest on his chest, feeling its steady rise and fall as he took slow, measured breaths. “Oh my love, why won’t you tell me what’s wrong?”

His hand covered hers, an empty smile shuddering at the edges of his lips. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, darling. I just got something stuck in my eye, probably from being distracted by your hands.” His voice dropped an octave, was sweet as syrup, warm as the buzz of alcohol when she’d drank too much wine. “I was thinking about all of the other things they could do.”

The smile at his lips grew wider, the sharp points of his canines peaking out. He flicked his eyes up to meet hers, but they fell just as quickly, no smile in them.

“Is it me?” Her voice trembled as she spoke, drawing her hand from him and pressing it against her own chest. She slid backwards, worry an oily creature squeezing her belly until she thought she might retch. “Have I done something wrong? Something to hurt you?”

Ruby eyes flared wide, the water moving like ocean waves, spilling over the lip of the tub as he closed the small amount of distance between them. He cupped her face with such tenderness she thought she would be the one to cry now.

His voice was a dry rasp, his brow lined. “You have done nothing wrong, I swear. I promise, you are…” His eyes softened. “You are perfect.”

Some of the tightness in her belly eased. She wanted to reach out to him, but she held back, still fearing that perhaps her touch had been too much. Perhaps she had pushed him beyond the bounds of his comfort. She sounded small, like a child, when she finally asked “then what’s wrong? Why will you not tell me what’s wrong?”

A long sigh fell from his lips, his hands finding hers in the water, fingers threading together. He seemed to hesitate, his eyes scanning her face for a long moment, his brow drawn.

“It’s not that something is wrong…” He tipped his head to the side, a humourless laugh ringing hollowly in the air.

She chewed on the corner of her lip, unsure whether to press him for details or to give him space to speak. Maybe he just needed to think through what he was going to say.

The corner of his lip twitched. “Don’t bite your lip like that, my sweet. I can smell the blood from here.”

She froze, frowning. “I haven’t even bit it that hard-” The coppery taste of blood spread across her tongue and she frowned even more, watching as his smile grew wider. “Hey! Don’t change the subject.”

“I can’t help it when all I can think about is sinking my teeth into your lips.”

He seemed quite proud of that line, and she wasted no time in splashing his face, washing it away. He sputtered, wiping his face, his smug little grin replaced by a pout.

“My eyes are up here,” she motioned to her face, earning the return of a small smirk. “Astarion, please. If you don’t want to talk about it, that’s fine, but if there’s something I did wrong, or something I could do to help.”

It was another beat before he responded, his eyes creasing at the corners. “You haven’t done anything wrong, my love. And I’m not upset, I promise.”

She elected to remain quiet this time, fluttering her fingers along the surface of the water as opposed to worrying her bottom lip with her teeth lest she distract him yet again.

The tenor of his voice softened, warm and low, reaching into her mind and easing away the last of her anxieties. “It’s quite the opposite, actually. It’s just…” He trailed off, holding her gaze steady as he searched for the right words. When finally they came to him, the corners of his eyes crinkled as he smiled, soft as feather down, as morning sunshine in the air. “You were being so gentle. You weren’t trying to seduce me, or manipulate me. You just…”

Again he trailed off. He reached for the hand still skimming across the top of the water, holding it tight. “I didn’t want to say anything because it felt absurd to be crying over such a thing. I know you love me. And yet.” He shrugged. “I was overwhelmed. I felt so loved.”

His words hung, suspended in the air between them like spider’s silk. Delicate and gauzy, shimmering with the silver of moonlight as it was spun. She wasn’t thinking as she reached out to him, as she crawled into his lap with her hands on either side of his face. Her fingers slid into his hair, tangling in the wet curls.

“My love,” she breathed. She could not find her voice, her words little more than a flutter of gossamer wings, butterflies caught in a storm, a lone songbird taking flight in morning mists. Her heart was aching, her ribs cracking, splintering beneath it, the power of her voice stolen as the feeling drowned her veins.

His brows lifted, confusion and yearning twined together in his eyes. “Yes?”

“I love you.” It was all she could think of to say, the only words that would form in her mind for the longest of times. She ought to be better with her words, but in this moment, her fingers wrinkled and the water tepid, there was nothing else. “I love you entirely.”

“And I love you, darling,” he chuckled, his hands falling to her hips.

She shook her head. “No, you don’t understand. I love you.” She pressed her lips to his cheek, saying the words over and over again like a prayer. “I love you. I adore you. My chest aches from how much I love you.”

A breathy laugh escaped him as she passed her lips over his, as she scattered kisses across his cheeks and brow and the sharp tips of his ears. “I don’t want you to be in pain.”

“I want you to feel loved everyday, always.” A kiss to the side of his neck, his throat bobbing as he swallowed. “I love you, I’ll always love you.”

His arms came around her sides, hands resting on her back. “My love…”

She couldn’t stop now, smiling as his eyes flicked skyward in an eye-roll. “I love you!”

He held her tighter, drawing her in closer. “I love you too.”

“I love you with all my heart.” A brush of her lips against the bridge of his nose, the space between his brows, the hollow of his throat. His hands tightened, fingers pressing into her skin. “I’ll find a way to live forever so I can love you forever.”

A garbled sound escaped from his lips and she froze, her grip loosening in his hair. She hadn’t realized how tightly she’d been gripping it until she loosed her hold, her hands aching.

“No,” he said, his voice rough as sandpaper. “No, don’t stop.”

Silver pooled in the corners of his eyes when she pulled away, lines tracking down his cheeks and gathering at the edges of his jaw. Little droplets tumbled silently down, little ripples spreading across the surface of the water.

“Are you sure?”

A small nod, one hand sliding up her back, resting at the nape of her neck. “I am sure. Don’t stop.” He offered her a small smile, even as tears streaked down his face. “Please?”

She brushed the tears away with the pads of her thumbs, cupping his face as she brought her lips to his again. She grinned as he sighed, his lips parting against hers. It was so incredibly gentle, so tender and soft that she almost burst into tears too, feeling like she might melt into a puddle and be washed away with the soap and the suds.

“I love you,” she murmured as she broke away, breathless even as she drew breath. Shadows clung to the walls, stretched out from the corners and puddled along the floor, the flickering candlelight never quite reaching fully into the cracks and corners of the room. Yet for all that shadow everything seemed to burn bright, everything awash in technicolour. It was like an artist had come in and painted over a sketch done in grey, bringing it to life with colours she could not even name, made of crushed gemstones and sunlight and sugar.

Another sob bubbled to the surface, but it was chased by a soft laugh. The hand at her neck twisted into her hair, his free hand stroking her side gently, reverently. He looked away from her, lips pressed into a thin line as if he were embarrassed from the sound.

“You’re safe, you know,” she promised, stroking his cheek. “It’s okay to cry.”

He snorted, chuckling softly as he slowly looked back at her. “For being told I’m loved?”

She brushed away another tear. “Yes, exactly.”

He looked incredulous. “Really.” It wasn’t a question so much as a comment, one brow quirking up. “You don’t mind?”

“I’m just glad you trust me.” She traced the line of his jaw. “That you feel safe with me.”

He looked on the verge of saying something smart, so she kissed him quickly, fighting against her smile as he let out a choked sound, all that remained of whatever his snarky little comment would have been.

“That was unfair,” he whined, trying and failing to glower at her.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” She kissed the corner of one eye, then the other, the shudder that wracked through him echoing in the hollows of her bones. “I just love you, I couldn’t help it.”

He chuckled again, running his fingers through her hair now. “Well if you’re that determined to shower me with affection, I suppose I shouldn’t stop you.”

She frowned. “Unless you want me to stop.”

“It’s a good thing I don’t want you to stop.”

“Even if it makes you cry?”

His pale brows rose higher, the corner of his lip twitching. “Only if you promise to kiss them away.”

She wrapped her arms around his neck, nestling as close as she could to the coolness of his body. Tepid water sloshed around her hips, but she did not care, did not even notice as the bath grew colder. It could have been made of ice and snow and still she would have felt nothing but the warmth of her heart, burning as hot as a star set to explode and spread fire and stardust through her veins. She could feel his heartbeat against her chest, feel it beat in time with her own, a harmony only they could create.

“I promise,” she murmured, lips against the curve of his jaw, trailing kisses up his face, tasting salt on her tongue.

“Then I definitely don’t want you to stop.”

She could have said something smart then. About how he was ridiculous, how he was being awfully needy and demanding. But in truth she didn’t have it in her to say something sharp, to come up with some witty rejoinder. Any smart comments she made were like training swords to the sharp-edged daggers he could create with only his tongue anyways. But more than that, she just didn’t want to. Why would she cut through the delicate gossamer of this moment? Why would she tear apart the diaphanous veil that clung to them?

All she wanted to do most days was hold him to her chest and press her face into his hair as she breathed in the rosemary and bergamot that he was so fond of. She wanted to cup his cheeks and kiss his face until he blushed, until he laughed, until he was so full of love he would never doubt his worth again. To run her hands down his back, to tangle her fingers in his hair and comb them through his curls, to soothe him so he felt safe as he slept.

She was not about to pass up an opportunity to do exactly that, and she was not about to tease him when she was nearly fracturing from the effort it took to keep everything she felt contained in her veins and her bones.

She had been struck dumb with love, but she had never been happier, never been so glad to sit in a cold bath with wrinkled fingers. There were not even any words to describe it, so she repeated the same words over and over. That she loved him, oh how she loved him, her precious Astarion.

Eventually his tears began to slow, his quiet sobs no longer echoing through the room. She didn’t pull away, at least not right away, wanting to stay tangled with him for just a little while longer. She murmured one more “I love you,” pressed one more kiss to the corner of his lips, before she pulled away.

Astarion’s eyes were filled with stars when she found them, the smile on his lips adoring. “Where are you going?”

“Nowhere.” She brushed a damp curl behind his ear. “But you’re not crying any longer.”

“That doesn’t mean you have to stop, darling.” He sighed, mischief in his eyes once more. “And just when I was enjoying it, too.”

She splashed water at him, snickering as he shouted. “Come on! The water is getting cold!”

He wrapped his arms around her waist, their chests pressing together, holding her fast. “I’m not the one who started kissing me, darling.”

“I was trying to make you feel loved,” she whined, wiggling in his grasp but finding she was unable to escape.

“And you very much succeeded.” He spoke languidly, drawing out each word slowly, the sharp points of his teeth catching the buttery light. “I’ve never felt so loved before, in all my long, depraved existence.”

She looped her arms around his neck once more, running her fingers through his hair. “Well I’m very glad for that.”

He inclined his head, an approving smile on his lips. “But that doesn’t mean I want to let go of you just yet.”

“Astarion,” she hissed. “I wanted to take a bath.”

He was all wickedness now, tilting his head back, holding her fast with his eyes as much as with his arms. “And I wanted to stay curled up in my lover’s arms.”

A shiver ran down her spine, her body momentarily out of her control as she shook. She pressed closer against her better judgement, searching for the scraps of warmth his body offered.

He dropped a kiss to the top of her head, reminding her of a lazy cat from the way he watched her with half-lidded eyes. “So doesn’t this seem like an answer to what we both want?”

“We’re not exactly doing any bathing.” She shivered again, gooseflesh rushing across her arms.

The way he smirked made it seem like he had won a prize, all satisfaction and smug delight. “It looks to me like you’d be better off staying in my arms, darling. If you don’t, you might catch a chill.”

Frowning, she planned to push away from him and crawl out of the bath, but she was shivering again, harder this time, her teeth clacking together. For all the warmth stored within the cage of her ribs, beating endlessly in time with his heart, clearly it was not enough to keep the chills away when she was waist-deep in a cold bath.

Astarion grimaced, taking note of the gooseflesh prickling her skin, the way her teeth clattered together, the unending shivers she could not seem to control. He pried one hand from his hair, inspecting her palm, before sighing dramatically. “Why didn’t you tell me you were this cold?”

She pressed her lips into a thin line, looking away at the line of candles, watching as wax pooled at their bases.

A click of his tongue drew her attention back, although she wished she had not looked back as she was met with a look of reproach, his mouth a thin line, the corners of his eyes creased as they narrowed.

It was so bizarre, so utterly absurd to see such an expression on his face, when usually there was mirth or mischief or plain wickedness, that she couldn’t help but giggle.

He cocked his head to the side, the gesture of a predator having cornered its prey. “I’m not really sure what you find so funny,” he said leaning close. “But please, do enlighten me.”

“Nothing!” She shook her head quickly as she squeaked out her response. “There’s nothing that’s funny.”

“Hmm,” was his only response, although he looked like he didn’t believe her for even a second.

She tried to draw her hand away, to press it safely to her chest, but he held it tightly, his eyes boring into hers for a long, long while.

“I’m only a little cold,” she said, finally conceding. “I hardly noticed it.”

He sighed, loosening his hold. “Well I think it probably is a good idea to get out of the bath.”

She was not afforded a moment to consider his words as he stood, capturing her in his arms as he stepped from the tub.

“Hey! I haven’t washed up yet.” She wriggled in his arms, trying to get free.

“Relax.” He smirked, setting her down. “You’re not bathing in freezing water.”

“It wasn’t freezing.” She pretended she didn’t see the way his eyes flicked to the goosebumps still crawling across her arms and her legs now, too. Or the way she shivered again.

He sighed. “It’s a good thing I don’t love you for your intelligence.”

“Excuse me?!”

His hands hovered on either side of her face, his nose bumping against hers as he kissed her lightly. “I adore you, my dear.”

She glared at him as he drew back. “That is not what you said.”

“Isn’t it?” He shrugged, moving away to begin draining the bath. “I adore you, and I will always love you, no matter what silly things you say.”

“I’m going to pretend you’re not implying I’m dumb.”

He held a hand to his chest, looking stricken. “On my honour! I would never say such a thing.”

She considered turning around and stomping back to bed. But there had been a reason she had wanted to bathe, beyond lavishing Astarion in love, and she still itched to wash her body of the sweat and blood and other things that still clung to her.

“Don’t look at me like that, darling.” He looked on the verge of pouting again, reaching for her hands. “You’ll have some cuddles again in just a few minutes.”

“What are you plotting?”

“Don’t look so suspicious, I’m only drawing you a new bath.” He huffed, making a grand show of refilling the tub with steaming water.

Warmth like a newly kindled fire bloomed in her chest, velvet softness wrapping itself around her heart. It was a small gesture, and yet it set her alight, made her feel as though she were glowing a little from gratefulness, from the love that had her in its thrall.

Still, she had to argue, curious why he would do such a thing when he’d only wanted to stay snug in bed in the first place. “I can do it, it’s okay. I know you’d only wanted to remain in bed.”

Another click of his tongue as he reached for some of his oils, sniffing them delicately before sprinkling them across the water. “I never said that.”

She groaned. “You’re lucky you’re cute.”

“Oh yes, I know.” He set the bottles to the side, offering her his hand, a teasing smile on his lips. “It’s allowed me to get away with much in the past. I’m hoping it will let me get away with much more in our future.”

She took his hand, letting him draw her back into the now steaming water. The heat of the bath seeped into her bones, relaxing her muscles as she sank into the fragrant water, tipping her head back so her hair streamed out behind her.

“How’s that?” Astarion asked, settling into the tub once more. He drew her legs into his lap, running his hands over them beneath the surface of the water. “Better, right?”

She sighed, rolling her eyes. “Yes, you’re right, it is much better.”

He flicked water her way, smug. “Now where were we?”

“Well I think I was almost done washing you,” she said, her memory hazy. Most of what she remembered was kissing his face, the desire to do so once more like a creature curling in the spaces between her cells, coiled tight, willing to wrap herself in his arms once more if he bid her to.

“That’s right,” he breathed. Something softened in his gaze, his countenance turning gentle, almost reverent. “But you’ve made me feel so loved. I’d like to do the same for you.”

A flush creeped across her face, reaching down her neck and across her chest as he took her hand. “You don’t have, I didn’t do it because I wanted you to reciprocate. I just-”

He kissed her hand, cutting her off, and for a moment he could have been an angel, the soft light gilding his features, his ivory hair glowing like moonlight.

“I know,” he murmured against her skin, eyes opening to find hers. “But I’d like to do it all the same. If you’ll allow me.”

There was nothing hidden in his voice, no double meaning to his words. Nor was his smile sly, or his eyes sharp as daggers. Nothing but earnestness lay in his countenance, a determined sincerity that had her caving at once.

How could ever say no to such a display? Even now that his enslavement was behind him and his sire long dead, he was still guarded. Less so with her, but guarded all the same. It would take many years to coax him fully from his habits, from his attempts to shield himself and his true emotions. But he was not shielding himself now, he was not hiding anything. So how could she ever say no when his heart had unfurled like a flower in bloom, unveiling how he truly felt?

She leaned forward to cup his cheek with her free hand, unable to pry herself away from touching him gently, from stroking his face with light fingers. “Nothing would make me happier, love.”

He leaned into her touch, a sigh feathering across her skin as his eyes closed. “Are you sure there is nothing that has ever made you happier?”

“Astarion.”

He lifted both hands, palms out in surrender. His eyes fluttered open, his lashes tickling the tips of her fingers. “I was only teasing, love. Although.” His voice turned smooth as warmed butter. “I hope that everything I do makes you happy.”

“You make me happiest,” she breathed.

He sighed again, one hand circling around her wrist, his shoulders sagging. He looked like he was on the verge of melting, of falling apart and slumping into her arms. But he straightened, pressing a kiss to her palm before pulling away. “Then let me show you how much I love you.”

True to his word he did his best to wash her in kind, and the feeling of the warm water and the soap and his scattered kisses were so heavenly she nearly cried, too. They stayed together until the water grew cold once more, and then they wrapped themselves in soft towels, water puddling beneath their feet as they returned to their bedroom, as they perched on the bed while she carefully toweled off his hair, biting back a grin at how it stood up at funny angles.

And when water no longer beaded on their skin they curled up in bed once more, tangled together beneath the layers of blankets. Astarion’s head was pillowed against her chest, and she idly ran her fingers through his still-damp curls, listening to the even tempo of his breaths, feeling the steady rhythm of his heart beating in his chest.

“I love you,” she murmured into his hair, stifling a yawn as she rested her cheek against the top of his head.

He mumbled something she couldn’t quite hear, a sleepy response that she felt in her bones more than heard quivering in the air. It made her smile, her arms tightening around him as she tried to hold him closer. She was happy, happier than she’d ever thought was possible, and she would do her best to make sure he was happy every day too, until the end of her days.

#astarion bg3 #astarion ancunin #astarion baldur's gate 3 #astarion x tav #astarion x reader #astarion x oc #baldur's gate 3 #bg3 #honey the sweeter the sun

929 notes · View notes

lewisyellowhelmet · 5 months

Text

freefall (pt 2)

lewis hamilton x mercedes engineer!reader

read part 1 here !!

summary: You and Lewis have let this go on too far, and for too long. (You are an engineer for Mercedes on Lewis’ side of the garage).

content: 18+!!!! general m/f sex acts. coworker relationship. let me know if u want anything else flagged!

You wake cold. The hotel air conditioning has kicked on during the night, a familiar whir in the ceiling, and in your sleep you’ve pulled the covers up around your chin in an attempt to keep your body warmth in. It takes a few circulations of the room for you to find the off switch for the air-con.

After, you stand against the big window until your alarm goes off, warm breath making a condensation cloud against the glass. You’re in Baku. No. Budapest. Budapest. You’ve been in this hotel before, you’ve seen this view. You have to close your eyes when the surge of memories come. The sound of Lewis singing to himself in the shower. His warm arm over your belly while you slept. Leaning over graphs together to try and figure out how to be faster, how to be better. Your iPhone is ringing, vibrating, morning alarm. The room is still cold.

You get to the engineers room before Lewis does. It’s rained overnight, the track wet, the air brisk. Endless emails await you. The cars not right. Nothing is right. A headache is pulsing at your temples. Your coffee is cold before you remember to drink it. Others work around you. Recently, you’ve begun having this urge, strong and gripping, to stand up and be wild, to yell and scream. We were in love. We were in love and no one knew. I sacrificed that to give us another go at a championship and now you can’t even get the fucking car to work?

You have to close your eyes and practice box breathing until it passes. When you lift your head again, Lewis is moving around your desk to go into Toto’s office. He doesn’t look at you.

—

It has been a year. A hard year. You’d left the hotel room, left him, feeling on the verge of insanity. Lewis had let you go without much of a fight. It felt like his confession, his acceptance, had drained all his energy. Somewhere silent and hidden behind your heart, you wish he’d fought harder. Having to pretend nothing had happened in front of your co-workers was gut wrenching. Sleeping alone was worse. The break between seasons had helped, a forced separation, different cities, but now, in the thick of a new calendar, a new year, you were constantly turning corners and bumping into him. You couldn’t go back to the friendship you’d had before. And you couldn’t go forward into a new, adjusted working relationship. There was only a sense of coldness, of formality. No way forward, no way back. Only this compounding sense of dread, anticipating the next interaction.

Toto’s assistant sticks her head out of the office while you’re gazing unseeing at the screens in front of you, calling for you. Your bones feel stiff and unwilling as you unfold yourself, follow her into the small room. Lewis is sitting in front of the desk, one knee pulled up, gives you a polite smile upon your entrance. Toto is leaning back in his chair, fingers steepled, deep thinking. There are no chairs for you. You hover behind Lewis, and refuse to think about reaching out, touching the back of his neck, smoothing your fingers into his hair.

Generic meeting. A summary of free practice, and then qualifying from the day before. Plans for the day. Any new ideas? Any solutions? Your headache is getting stronger. No solutions.

Lewis holds the door open for you when the meeting is over, and you can smell him as you move past. Familiar cologne. He used to laugh when you buried his face in his neck, sniffed over-dramatically, pretending to be a curious dog. He’d wriggled from the sensation, your tickling mouth, pressing nose. Pretended he didn’t like it, but always made sure to wear your favourite smell everyday anyway.

You need paracetamol. Too late you realise he’s following you to hospitality, where the first aid kit is stored. He is a step behind, lagging, despite easily being able to match your pace. You feel the gap keenly, an open wound.

—

The over-ear headphones drown out the noise of the garage. This, at least, you can do. Go through the motions of race day, a familiar rhythm. Positioned on your stool in front of your screens, the microphone against your mouth, the final, tenuous connection between you and Lewis. A direct line between you and him. You go through the regular checks together, safety, engine, ensuring the connection is clear. The cars roar. The adrenaline pounds.

“Ready?” You ask.

“Ready.”

You chew on the inside of your mouth so you don’t say, be safe, be careful. The lights flash down. The engines rev. The job begins.

—

The air conditioning is on again in the hotel room. They’ve been in to change the sheets, the towels, vacuumed. You feel stupid with fatigue, with loneliness, with missing him. The after-race meetings had dragged. Lewis was tired. The atmosphere was tense. You want to sleep for ten years, but there is a plane to catch first thing tomorrow morning. There are spirits in the mini-fridge, ice clear and beckoning. You drink two in the shower, and another in front of BBC World News on the television. Are you dreaming? Is this real life? The gin gives everything a foggy haze. Your steps are unsteady. You sit in bed and scroll through yours and Lewis’ text threads. Room numbers. Memes. Inside jokes texted under the table during long meetings. You manage to convince yourself its a mistake when you tap through to his contact number, watch it dial, ring through. Listen to the connecting sound, hear him say, “hello?” before you realise what’s happened, what you’ve done, what rule you’ve broken. You hang up. Hot panic. The newsreader is talking about weather. Lewis is calling back, already, and you watch it ring out. You feel frozen by horror. The room is so cold, and the fridge is worse as you reach in, tiny bottles clinking together. Vodka this time. Forget, forget, forget.

There’s someone knocking on the door. You manage to get yourself into a hotel issued robe, pull it tight, before you get into the small hallway, fumble with the handle, get the door open. You swear, and Lewis has to reach out to stop you closing the door again.

“Are you alright?” He asks.

“Yes,” you insist.

“You called me.”

“Did I? It must have been a mistake.”

Your voice sounds fake, even to you, the laugh reedy and broken.

“Are you drunk?” Lewis asks.

“No,” you lie.

He drops his arm from where it was holding open the door. He’s wearing pyjama pants and a worn grey hoodie. One you used to wear to go make the coffee in the morning. You can tell from the softness of his expression he’s been recently asleep. You should shut the door now. Block him out again. Go to bed. Instead, you feel yourself start to cry, building in your chest, the tightness in your throat, burning in your eyes.

“Babe,” he says, so sad, so concerned, and the sob you emit is embarrassing and loud. You have to let go of the door to cover your face, feeling your back curve over. Lewis is gentle about coming inside, guiding you to the bed, tucking you in. He brings you a glass of water, makes you have three big sips. You’re still crying, childlike, red faced and snotty. He passes you tissues, strokes your hair.

“I’m sorry,” you start to say, even as he shushes you, “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m so sorry.”

“It’s okay,” he murmurs, “Everything’s okay.”

You feel as if the world is ending. Crying like this in front of him. Drunk and messy. And the room is so fucking cold.

“Can you,” you stumble, wriggling over in the bed, throwing open the covers, “I’m really cold.”

He says your name the way he used to say it, warm and intimate, a nickname. Like a lover. Like a partner.

“Are you sure?” He asks, even as you’re reaching out for him, dragging him in.

“Please,” you say, “I’m cold.”

He tastes salty when you kiss him, your own tears on his mouth. He makes a wounded sound, but then he’s wrapping his arms around you, pulling you to his chest, his leg over yours. You feel held, sheltered. He lets you kiss him again, deeper, better.

“I’m sorry,” you say again, when you need to breathe, and he’s smiling, warm eyes, smoothing you hair off your face.

“It’s okay,” he repeats, “Whatever you need.”

Your hands are fists in his hoodie, “I need you.”

“How do you need me?”

“Like this,” you whisper, lips brushing his, taking his hand to slip into your robe, over your breast. He sighs out a breath as his fingers touch your nipple, swipe over it again so you make a small, wanting noise.

It feels dreamlike, a long awaited thing. A rush, almost, to get out of your robe, Lewis out of his own clothes so you can sling a leg over his waist, face hidden in the crook of his neck as he pushes into you, his big hand tangled in your hair, holding you to him. Rasping breaths, the sudden heat of two bodies working together, the length of him inside you, pushing deep. It feels instinctual, animalistic, breathing him in, trying to remember everything, compartmentalise every second, every touch, every groan. Lewis rolls you onto your back, but stays close, his mouth finding yours, sharing breath as he grinds into you. You come quickly, nothing controlled, grasping at him and panting, shaking through it. Lewis holds himself there, lets you shudder and cry out, pulsing around him. His eyes are dark and liquid, but he keeps watching you, like he’s trying to remember as well, be present for everything. You don’t want this to ever end. When you can breathe again, he returns to his rythym, steady knocks of his hips into yours, the rush of his breath, of his body. His face drops into your neck when he finishes, hands gripping you like he will never let go again. You feel new, hot tears leak down your face as you hold him.

—

You wake warm, this time. You’re curled around yourself, a child, with Lewis aligned to your back, his face against your spine, his arm over you, protecting you. You’re facing the window, curtains left open, blinking at an apartment building, holding hundreds of different lives, different bedrooms, different people. Lewis is still asleep, you can tell from the steadiness of his breath, the sleep-weight of his body over yours. You place your hand over his, interlinking knuckles. The more you wake up, the more you feel embarrassed, shame curdling in your belly. He’s done this out of pity. How gross, to call him, drunk, drag him into bed with you, to beg. You feel overheated, suddenly, untangle yourself from him, slip out of the covers and into the bathroom, pulling the sliding door to encase yourself in the marble and glass. Your eyes are swollen from crying. You mouth is bruised pink from him. There are fingertip bruises on your waist from where he’s held you. You have to sit on the lip of the built in tub so you don’t throw up, or start crying again. You haven’t washed your hair in a few days, and it hangs limp around your fingers, head in your hands, again. Hiding. Wanting to disappear. Your hangover makes you tremble. You’ve failed. You failed years ago, when you looped your arms around his neck and kissed him for the first time. You failed again when you turned your back on him. And now, to be so weak, to force him to do this again, to look after you.

The bathroom door slides open. Lewis is in your robe, tight around his shoulders. You try to smile at him, but even without seeing you know it’s more of a grimace.

“I don’t know what to say,” you tell him, raking your hands through your hair, “I’m just so, so sorry.”

“You said that a lot last night.”

Lewis doesn’t move any further into the room. Stays in the doorway. Watches. Witnesses.

“I can’t believe I. I’m so embarrassed.”

He shakes his head, “Don’t be.”

“Lewis,” you’re speechless. What is there to say? How to apologise? To take back?

“Look,” he spreads his hands, surrender, “We don’t have to talk about it. It never happened.”

“Never happened,” you echo. Vomit threatens. Never happened.

“If that’s what you want,” Lewis says.

You’re nodding, looking down at your bare feet on the tiles, “Yeah, that sounds good.”

The silence makes you want to scream. Just to break it. You can hear your heartbeat in your head. A constant pound. You stay there, on the edge of the bathtub, while he gets dressed. He doesn’t look in on his way out. The door shuts with a finality.

—

You fly to Oxford. He flies to Monaco. You don’t speak.

—

It happens in the middle of the night. The off season. When you check your phone for the first time the next morning, waiting for the kettle to boil, you have so many missed calls your phone has stopped counting them. The photos are blurry, but it’s obvious if you know what you’re looking for. Through a small window in the door of your office. In the first one, you’re just laughing together, the second you are reaching for his hand, the final one you are in his lap, your mouth hidden by his, Lewis’ big hands in your hair. You’re still staring at them when he calls. He does’t say anything when you pick you. You just breathe, together, for a long moment.

“So it happened,” you finally say.

“It happened,” he agrees.

“I haven’t spoken to anyone else yet. I just woke up,” you say.

“Don’t,” he says, “I’m going to fly in this afternoon. We’ll have a meeting with the publicists. Toto wants HR there, as well.”

“Fuck.”

You hesitate, and then, “Was Toto mad?”

“He wasn’t happy. He reckons Susie knew and didn’t tell him.”

“Where did the photos come from?”

“Ex-employee, they think. Was waiting for the right time.”

“And now is the right time?” You can hear the edge of hysteria in your voice.

“I’m really sorry,” Lewis says.

“It’s not your fault.”

“I’m still sorry.”

You need to boil the kettle again, tea forgotten. You realise you're gripping the kitchen bench so hard your knuckles have gone white. You let go. You look out over the garden, crisp with morning frost. Christmas soon. You’ll have to explain to your family.

“Did Toto say anything about my job?” You ask, feeling sick at the thought.

“No. I said if he fired you, I would quit.”

“Don’t be stupid.”

“I’m not.”

There’s quiet again. You flick the kettle on.

“I think it’s good if we come in together. We can plan what we want to say. I can pick you up from your house,” he says.

“Alright.”

“Don’t answer any numbers you don’t know, okay? Media might call.”

“Really? I was just gonna pick up strange numbers all day,” you say, a bite in your tone. Lewis laughs though, an amused huff.

“You’re right, sorry. I’m control-freaking.”

You hum an agreement.

"I’ll see you soon, then,” he says.

You suddenly have a fierce urge not to let him end the call, to let his voice anchor you.

“Alright,” you say, and hang up first.

—

The meeting is awful, of course. People are panicking. Toto scolds. You go silent. Lewis rages. In the end, the core group sits silent around a meeting table. The most promising solution is to paint it as star-crossed lovers, meant to be, soulmates. Refusing to be kept apart by jobs and contracts. This would be perfect, perhaps, if you were still together.

“Could you pretend? Until it died down,” Toto had said.

“No,” you’d snapped, speaking over Lewis’, “It depends what she wants.”

Now, the silence is stale, nothing left to say, but no agreement reached. Your eyes prick with fatigue.

—

Lewis drives you home. When he pulls into the driveway, you’re too tired to get out of the car. There is a light on inside. Your mum must be here, checking in on you. Has heard somehow, which must mean it's on the internet.

“How are you feeling?” Lewis asks, when you make no move to open the door.

“Tired,” you say, “You?”

“Sad.”

It’s unconscious, reaching to to touch his leg, an urge to comfort. He sighs. The muscle of him is warm through his jeans.

“If this had happened a year ago,” he starts, and stops, shaking his head, “Doesn’t matter.”

“If it happened a year ago, what?” You say. He shrugs.

“Everything might have turned out okay.”

You turn your face from him, look out the window into the dark street. It makes your heart throb painfully to see him. You can’t speak through a thick, swollen throat.

“I’m sorry I didn’t say it,” you finally manage to whisper. Your hand is still on his thigh.

“Didn’t say what?"

You close your eyes, lean to rest your forehead on the car window with a thunk.

“Didn’t say that I loved you back.”

“Did you?”

You laugh, exhausted from carrying it for so long, “Lewis. Of course. Of course I do. So much.”

“You do?”

Your eyes fly open, realising your mistake. You snatch your hand from his leg, turn to face him, “I did. I did then.”

“You don’t love me anymore,” he clarifies. He’s frowning, forehead creased. The night is pressing in on the car, dark and claustrophobic. You can’t speak.

“Because nothing has changed for me. I feel the same as I did then,” Lewis says, and you can see how he’s working to speak, jaw twitching, forcing the words out. Something private, and hidden, being pushed into the open. You’re pressing your hands together in your lap, painfully tight.

“Alright,” you say, hate yourself for it. He looks away. His eyes are gleaming.

“Alright.”

You get out of the car. Stiff and awkward. You get your key in the front door, hear him turn the engine back on. Fear is clawing at your chest. You turn around anyway, back down the steps, jump in front of the car so he has to slam on the breaks, a screech breaking the night air. He’s opening the drivers door at the same time you’re trying to open it, get to him. He’s half out of the car and you’re half in when you kiss him, cold air, warm mouths. He’s grasping your head, holding you steady.

"I’m sorry,” you’re panting, “I’m sorry.”

“Stop apologising,” Lewis says, “What’s done is done.”

You keep kissing him, his face, his nose, his jaw.

“I love you,” you press into his skin, you kiss into his mouth, “I love you.”

Lewis is pulling you into his lap, back into the car, pulling the door shut again, crammed in. Your hands under his shirt, feeling his skin, feeling him breathe.

“Do you?” He asks, holding your face in front of him. You feel your face hurt with how wide you are grinning, a release of something held inside for so long. Your hands mirror his on his face, precious in your fingers.

“I do. I do. I love you.”

Lewis half laughs, half sobs. His eyes are shining. The car horn beeps from a stray elbow. You keep kissing him anyway.

#lewis hamilton x reader #lewis hamilton imagine #lewis hamilton smut #f1 smut #f1 imagine #*

633 notes · View notes

questionableratatouille00 · 13 days

Text

𝘖𝘯 𝘈𝘨𝘢𝘪𝘯 (𝘖𝘧𝘧 𝘈𝘨𝘢𝘪𝘯)

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Summary: Your relationship with your boyfriend had only gotten better. At least, until a new part of the equation came along.

Warnings: unwanted erections, discomfort, past SA (no graphic descriptions), hurt/comfort, shame/humiliation, fluff. As always, let me know if more needs to be added.

[Series Masterlist]

It had been a month since your shared shower, and things were going great. You and Bucky hadn’t been intimate, but there was an insanely higher amount of intimacy between you.

He held your hand, rested against you. Hell—the two of you even cuddled most nights. And you reveled in it.

And part of you knew he did, too.

You walked into the kitchen, your phone and some other random items in your hands. Bucky was always astounded by the fact that you could hold so many things in one hand. You were positive it came from a lack of pockets for so many years.

“Hey, Buck.” You greeted as you set all of your junk onto the island to be later forgotten.

“Hi.” He said awkwardly as he shuffled around.

You felt your brows furrowing. “You good?”

He nodded, but shuffled off into another room quickly. You didn’t follow, positive he was just having an off day. It happens.

And that was the end of that.

Your arms slid up his chest, wrapping around his neck and resting on his shoulders as his hands stayed planted on your hips.

The kiss was loving, and downright passionate—like it came straight out of a fanfiction, regardless of if those kinds of kisses were even real.

It lasted a while, both of you pausing for split seconds just to breathe before returning to the kiss.

Until he pulled away suddenly, a strange look in his eyes.

“Hey, what’s wrong?” You asked softly.

“Nothing.” He rushed the word out. “I think I left the oven on from when we made that pizza earlier.” He said as he pulled away and walked out of the bedroom.

You stood there, entirely unsure of what you did wrong.

You snuggled up against him as he wrapped his strong arms around you. Your back was pressed against his chiseled chest, one of his knees resting on top of yours as he clung to you like a koala.

You closed your eyes, just about to fall asleep. In that same moment, he pulled away and rolled over.

“Woah—are you okay?” You were startled by the sudden movement.

“Yeah. It’s just hot tonight.” He murmured, not turning to look at you.

“Bucky, it’s cold tonight.” You couldn’t help the frustration that leaked into your voice. You instantly regretted it.

“Listen—I’m sorry. It’s just that you’ve been randomly running away and I’m not sure what I’m doing wrong.” You confessed.

He sighed. “You’re not doing anything wrong, dollface.”

You paused, waiting for him to continue.

“I—God, this is stupid.” He rubbed at his face.

“It’s not, baby. Just..can you tell me what’s wrong?” You gently prompted.

“It’s not you. I swear.” He assured you, before taking a breath. “It’s—I’m hard.”

You blinked. “What?”

He rolled over to face you, the blanket pulled up on him, resting just under his ribs. “I mean I’m hard, honey.”

“Okay. That—I’m lost.” You told him.

“It’s another shitty thing HYDRA ruined for me.” He began to explain. “Whenever I got—I got like this, there was like, six ways it could go. Sometimes they’d get me like this on purpose then shame or beat me for it. Sometimes they’d do it to me and then fuck me—as a reward, I guess. Sometimes it’d just happen naturally and it could go either way.”

You frowned, letting him continue.

“So..I think now that every time it happens, I just assume..there’ll be some kind of consequence.” He finishes his thought.

“There won’t be,” you murmur, offering your hand. He takes it. “I will never lay a finger on you in anyway that’s not gentle. And I’d never touch you in that way without your explicit permission.”

“I know,” he hummed. “I know that. I don’t think my brain does.”

“Me and your brain will just have to have a ‘stern talking to’ session.” You teased, instantly lightening the mood. He cracked a small smile.

“Can..can we still cuddle?” He asked. “I don’t want you to be uncomfortable—“

“We can.” You chuckled. “That stuff doesn’t bother me. It’s just your body doing what it knows to do, babe.”

“I feel like a preteen boy.” He grumbled as he tucked his face into the crook of your neck.

You chuckled, not at all bothered by what’s pressing against your thigh. “Womp womp.” You said in a goofy voice, one you knew would make him smile. And he did.

“I love you, Buck.” You hummed into his hair.

“I love you too.” He answered back. And then you shut your eyes, and began to fall asleep.

A/n: another part! I love this series. If you enjoyed, please REBLOG. likes do nothing 😊

graphics by @saradika-graphics

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky x reader #bucky x you #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes #marvel #mcu

210 notes · View notes

i9messi · 5 months

Text

How you get the girl — Pablo Gavi

Pablo comes to your house in the middle of the storm to tell you he wants you back and he still loves you.

Word count — 1,8k

a/n: what can I say, taylor inspires me a lot. (ANGSTY but with a happy ending!)

gavi's masterlist

Ever since you and Pablo broke up six months ago, every time he told someone you weren’t together anymore, people asked him the same question. «Why did he let you go?» and the truth was that he couldn't understand how he had been stupid enough to let you go. You were the girl he had fallen in love with and yet, he had been stupid enough to lose you.

He thought a lot about you, every night he went to bed wanting to text you and every morning he woke up thinking it was a good option to call you. He had never done it before, Gavi had never dared to approach you, fearing that you wouldn't want him anymore.

"Pablo, what are you doing here? It’s raining. Are you insane?"

He shook his head, his eyes meeting yours. You were so pretty, you’ve always been pretty to his eyes.

"I needed to talk to you."

"Couldn’t you wait until the rain stopped? Oh, Pablo, you’re going to get sick. Come, come in."

Gavi needed to talk to you and he knew that outside, with the rain falling so hard, it was impossible. He preferred the privacy of your home so you both could have a real conversation. He was led by you to the living room and you picked up some towels.

"Strip. You’re gonna catch a cold."

"What?"

"I will bring you clothes. I still have some of your things in my room."

There were countless times your ex-boyfriend had been to your house. You remembered the nights you would just hug, talking about everything that was going through your heads. Gavi was a person who didn’t get along with the pressure people put on him, he didn’t react well when things went wrong on the pitch. He would get stressed and the pressure wouldn’t help. He just loved coming to your house and disconnecting from the real world, he loved to hear you talk because your voice calmed him like nothing else.

When you came back, Pablo was still standing there, all wet and with the towels in his hands. His body was shaking from the cold, even though the heat was on. You passed him the clothes you had on him, a pair of pants and a t-shirt. They both still smelled like him.

"Do you want me to start you a shower or a bath?"

"No, it’s fine. Really."

"Okay, then I’ll go make something hot to drink."

You went to the kitchen without waiting for his answer, simply wanting to leave there for a moment. You weren’t ready to see Pablo after months of missing him like never before. It was painful to have him so close and at the same time so far away. He had hurt you, grabbed your heart and broken it into thousands of pieces, he never dared to apologize. Gavi never called you, he never texted you. He had moved on with his life, while you kept the memories of the relationship.

What was he doing there? The question didn't leave you alone. Outside the weather was the worst, it rained like never before, it was actually a thunderstorm, but Gavi had appeared to knock on your door.

Taking a breath, you finished preparing the hot drink and went to the living room, where you met your ex-boyfriend. Pablo was now dressed in dry clothes, although his hair was still soaked.

"I made you a mug of tea."

"I still love you."

The statement took you by surprise. Your shaking hands left tea on the table, while you stood there. The brunette kept looking at you. He spoke again, just because he thought you didn't hear him.

"I still love you."

"Pablo, don’t do this to me."

"What? Tell you how I feel? I never stopped loving you at all."

You shook your head. You were shocked by what he was telling you, you couldn’t just accept it like everything was fine. It wasn't. He had broken your heart with his hands.

"Did you try to call me at all, Pablo?"

"I was never brave enough to do it.”

"You’re a coward, that’s what you are. You broke my heart and never dared to apologize, or at least say you screwed things up. You come six months later to tell me you still love me? Is everything a joke to you?"

Gavi was embarrassed, he knew it probably wasn’t the best choice of words, but he really wanted to let you know how he felt. After everything that happened in the past, he believed you still would listen to him.

“I know It’s been a long six months and I was afraid of telling what I want— I practically lost my mind since I lost you, all because I left you without giving you any explanation. I shouldn’t have done that, I shouldn’t have left the one girl I’ve loved and will love all my life. I just know that I’ve ever missed anyone or anything as much as I missed you. I didn’t know until now that missing someone like that was possible."

"Pablo, it’s too late now."

You were crying, tears poured down your eyes and all your emotions struggled to find a place in your chest. Loving a person and at the same time making such a difficult decision was cruel.

“It's okay, but I'm not okay with the fact I lost you because I was stupid enough to not fight for you. I will accept that you no longer love me and I have ruined everything. But I couldn’t take it anymore, I needed to come here and tell you how I feel about you.”

You kept quiet for what seemed like an eternity, until you breathed and found his gaze once again.

"I still love you, Pablo. But you broke my heart and I can’t just— I can’t accept you breaking it again. I can’t tolerate someone who I love breaking my heart not just once, but twice."

"I will not. I will not break your heart again, I will pick up every piece I have broken."

You looked at him. He seemed honest.

"No, Pablo. I can’t do this anymore."

"I will wait as long as you need."

"For what? Do you think I’ll change my mind?"

Pablo didn’t answer, so you spoke again.

"I will bring you the things that belong to you. It’s over, for good."

You went to your room, where you still kept a box of all his belongings. Photos, his clothes and gifts that he had given you and certain things that you had borrowed, but had never given them back before. Having all those things in your room made you remember him and spending those months with his memory had been painful.

You came back with the box in your hands and leaned it on the table. Letting go of everything was a real goodbye, saying goodbye to the love you had for him. You didn’t really feel sure about anything you were doing, you still wanted him to fight. That he would tell you that he needed you, that he would fight to be by your side.

“Everything is here.”

"Okay, so I guess this is a goodbye."

Wasn’t he going to fight a little more?

Your ex-boyfriend got up from the couch and took the box, you walked him to the door quietly, but when he opened it, both saw that outside it rained torrentially. The weather had not improved and seemed to only get worse every minute. He stepped forward, until you stopped him, holding his arm.

"Pablo, don’t go."

He turned, his brown eyes holding your gaze. The same eyes that had looked at you at your best and worst moments. The ones that belonged to the person you loved the most.

"Wait until the rain stops."

"Okay."

You both returned to the living room, where you sat on the couch. Pablo left the box on the table and his hands approached the box to pull out a picture of you two. You saw him smile. It was a picture of when the team had won La Liga, Pablo was very happy that day. You had been there with his family to support him and when you saw your boyfriend, you couldn’t help running and hugging him. His family had captured the moment, where you were both on the floor, smiling like two idiots.

He spoke, "I miss this."

"Me too."

"Look at this." He smiled, pointed out another picture. It was a Polaroid.

You were both sitting on the couch, smiling for the camera. It seemed like forever ago, but it had only been a few months.

"Why did you never call? If you had called me..."

Your voice caught him by surprise, Gavi left the picture in the box. You could see that his hands were shaking a little and now it wasn’t because of the cold or the rain.

"Would you have listened to me? Would you have accepted that I loved you and ruined it because I didn’t know what I wanted?"

"Yes."

"Is it too late now? Is it too late to tell you that I love you and that I want you back?"

"It’s not too late, Pablo."

His eyes shone with longing and hope. It was the first time in that afternoon that you gave him signs of hope. That maybe, just maybe, you could give him a second chance.

You grabbed another one of the Polaroids and looked at it. Pablo and you were on the beach, the two of you smiling as you kissed each other. His hands held you by the waist, while you held him by the shoulders, giving him a hug.

You missed him, you loved him, and you needed to have him by your side. Being so close to him and remembering everything that had once been put things in perspective.

"Please let me love you right this time, let me love you as you deserve to be loved from the start."

"Won’t you break my heart?"

"I swear to you that I won't, I will love you this time. I will prove to you that it is worth giving me a second chance. I will not let you down."

You cried, Pablo was seconds away from doing it too. You approached him and allowed him to give you a hug and hold you in his arms. Both of you remained silent for a long time.

"I don’t deserve you, mi amor." he said.

"I am the only one who can decide if someone deserves me, and I can say that you are that someone who does."

"I love you."

"I love you too, Pablo."

Pablo would work hard every day to make things right and let you know how much he loved you.

#pablo gavi one shot #pablo gavi x reader #pablo gavi blurb #pablo gavi imagine #pablo gavi #gavi x reader #gavi imagine #gavi #barcelona fc #football players

377 notes · View notes

tomscocksleeve · 30 days

Text

Bro 2010 Tom can fucking get it. I mean him in general can get this pussy but like MMM the way he looked in 2010 is so 🤤

“Baby you know I have a concert tonight” he said in a raspy morning voice. You had pouted because all you wanted to do was spend time with your boyfriend. “Meine Liebe… cmon…” he said once more needing to get ready. You pouted and he started getting a small smirk on his face. You knew that look all too well.

He moved you slightly and he pulled his pants down revealing his erection and looked at you. “Do you want me right now mein Schatz..?” You smiled crawling over and taking his length in your hand. You began pumping him slowly and he tilted his head back making a slight groaning noise. That turned you on so much. You started going faster until he leaked precum. You smiled and spit on his cock before putting it in your mouth.

He smiled down at you and ran his fingers through your hair making sure you can get his whole length into your mouth. “Good girl…” he said softly. He then started holding onto your hair rougher getting a good grip so he can pull your face down more and more, at this point he was face-fucking you and tears streamed down your precious cheeks.

He muttered curses as he made you go faster. The way he was reacting he was close. Your cheeks were a pinkish reddish color and the grip he had on your hair was insane. You gagged on his cock as he kept picking up pace. He groaned and moaned a bit finally releasing his cum into your mouth. He pressed your head all the way down making sure you take all of his sticky cum.

“Swallow.” He said in a cold like tone. You did just that you swallowed all of his cum and finally pulled away breathing heavily. Some cum and saliva dripped out of your mouth and he wiped it off before kissing your head.

“You’re such a good girl you know that?” You smiled at him and he kissed your lips tasting himself on you a little and he hugged you before getting up to get ready for the concert.

“That was just the start baby girl… wait until after the show.” He then went into the shower, you were so happy and excited you couldn’t wait for tonight because you knew tomorrow you wouldn’t be able to walk.

#tom kaulitz smut #tom kaulitz #tokio hotel #bill kaulitz #gustav schäfer #georg listing #y2kcore #y2k aesthetic #y2k #y2k nostalgia #german bands #germany #2000s nostalgia #early 2010s

198 notes · View notes

desperate-gay · 4 months

Note

Your fiancé is insufferable.

When she’s showering you with kisses all over your face after games and whispering phrases that make your heart swell, you forget the fact of the matter. But when you’re ruining each other for anyone else in the confined walls of your bedroom, she reminds you of it every time.

Mary Earps is insufferable.

“Baby, no…”

“Baby, yes.” She returns with that signature smirk of hers that makes your body reset for the fifth orgasm of the night. Almost.

She’s laid down on her back, knees bent, and one arm stretched over your lower back. The other is adjusting the strap that was the reason for the recent two orgasms. The other three were because like you said, she loves being a nuisance in the bedroom. Making you so sensitive, you’re an aching mess post session.

You’re on top of her with your legs over her waist and hands on her stomach trying to find anything to hold onto in efforts of focusing more on your grip versus the slow grinds Mary has started with her own hips again.

“Just give me one more. You’re so beautiful.”

You whine and moan and it was already too much a few minutes ago. She knows you and your body more than yourself sometimes, so you’d be lying if you even entertained the idea of her crossing boundaries. Maybe you just didn’t want to be a riled up mess in her arms. This led to endless teases of the effect she had on you.

“Oh my god, Mary.” You cry out and quickly move your hands under her back, hugging her. Needing something, anything, to hold onto tightly. You feel so vulnerable, but safe all at the same time. Your face is buried into her neck and your noises are right in her ear. This was her favorite part of you straddling her.

Mary goes insane when you turn to her for comfort and safety. That’s why she loves making you as a vulnerable as possible. No one else gets to see this side of you, not if she has anything to say about it. Your writhing moans, cries, and nail marks that you leave all over her body. Mary is the name you’re yelling or whispering during your most exposed moments.

You went from bouncing up and down like a wild animal, taking what’s yours, to surrendering all control to her as she moved away from slow grinds and now rough slams up and down. Your thighs are getting tight around hers now, trying to feel anything but how she feels inside of you.

“Feels good, yeah? This is all I thought about at night in my hotel room. Let me make you feel good now.”

You can feel tears pricking at your eyes. In bed, at her hands, is the only time Mary tolerates you having an innocent cry. Any other time, for any other reason, breaks her heart. It makes her cold knowing that you can feel sadness or hurt. It introduces another side of her that makes you love your fiancé all the more.

But this side, right here right now. The one that’s going back and forth between fast thrusts and slow grinds makes you want to throw your engagement ring across the room.

“Just give it to me, please…”

The hand that made your ass cheeks red just a few minutes ago moves to grip your hair and rip your face away from her neck. She wants you to look at her, while you came undone.

“Look at me, fiancé.”

She’s fucking smirking.

You’re usually vocal and communicative, telling her how good she makes you feel and how her hands work wonders. But you’re lost for words at just how smug she looks after putting you in such a damning position. Minutes ago, you’re trying to move away and now she is getting her way, as expected.

You know what? You were going to make her suffer a bit too.

You pulled your head down into a soft kiss and moaned into her mouth which led her to readjust. The strap hit a particularly sensitive spot inside you and Mary (being oh so attentive to just how violent your hips moved in response) maintained that position so the long awaited orgasm would arrive just a little bit sooner for you.

She tried to pull away from the kiss to catch her breath with her forehead resting on yours, but you smashed your lips right back into her. Biting her bottom lip in the process. Like you said, let’s wind her up a bit too.

“I would’ve orgasmed by now if it was at the hands of-“

She doesn’t let you finish your sentence. You’re getting bratty which means she’s not making you weak enough. Your words are swallowed up instead by the quick hands slapping your ass and rapid thrusts into you cunt.

“Fuck, stop. Mary, oh my god.”

“Stop? You don’t mean that.”

You’re screaming now and your hands are at the sides of her head on the pillow with your face turned to the right and eyes clenched. It’s so much and she’s right which makes it worse. You don’t mean it all.

The hand that has been going back and forth between your ass and face comes back to grab your cheek and turn it to face straight towards her.

“You’ll never be at the hands of anyone else. Don’t say dumb things because you’re too fucked to think straight.”

Shit, that’s getting you off. Her possessiveness always makes you a stuttering mess. You’re closer and with the pace of her thrusts that are absolutely relentless, the orgasm is unavoidable.

“I’m sorry I’m- FUCK. Mary, I’m coming.”

“Louder, get louder.”

You’re able to get a glance at the woman under you and it’s apparent that she’s getting off of your every movement as well. Your noises, your body, your showcase of being a brat even. You chanted out her name even louder as she smiled up at you, continuing to grind her hips inside you in a vile motion whilst you rode out your orgasm.

Everything is suddenly a blur and you think the movements that are still being initiating by Mary are for her more than they are for yourself.

“You okay, love?”

You don’t respond. You face has found her neck once more and now she’s tracing gentle circles on your back. You need a moment because what the fuck. Your legs are still twitching in some moments and just knowing how much Mary will rejoice in it gives you the strength to pick your head back up.

“Why can’t you just be normal?”

She chuckles at that and widens her eyes, almost as if she’s looking at you like you’re being ridiculous.

“Normal? What’s weird about taking care of the sexual fire ignited by my lover?”

“Five, Earps. I won’t be able to walk tomorrow, I think.”

“You’ve taken more.”

“They weren’t that intense back to back,” You roll your eyes playfully and damn those eyes of hers have you losing yourself in them. Post sex and they’re lustful, but also just such a reminder of your Mary at the same time. “You’ll be in the doghouse next time.”

“Oh Mary .. Just give it to me Mary .. my god …”

She’s mocking your noises and words now and you hastily move to get off of her, ignoring the feeling that the removal of the strap does to your cunt. She knows all the buttons to press.

You hear her laugh and her strong hands which you can’t compete with drag you back down on the bed. There she is, showering you with kisses all over your cheeks. Then your forehead, right under your eyes, on your chin. Then lastly, just so softly right on your lips.

“Marry me.”

You smirk and it scares you just how perfect everything feels. “I already am.” You say as you lift your hand with your ring finger having the rock she gifted to you a few weeks ago after you said yes almost immediately when she popped the question.

That makes Mary smile and kiss you once more.

“Why did you say that comment about someone else’s hands? I didn’t like that.”

“I’m sorry. It’s like you said, I was too dazed by you fucking the life out of me, Earps. Needed to give you payback.”

“Okay. But I didn’t like it.”

“Well, I hope not.”

It’s your turn to laugh this time and you give her a comforting kiss on her shoulder to ease the disgusted look on her face. She is without a doubt, picturing you with someone else. You make a mental note of apologizing to her in your naughty way another night.

The moment is followed by silence and you guys are just looking at each other like you’re the only people not in the room, but the world. At least that’s how it feels.

“You’re perfect, baby.”

“Mary…”

“You are.”

“Nothing and nobody is perfect.”

“You’re the closest thing.”

She whispers the last sentence so so softly and your heart is racing fast. She gives you butterflies, makes you feel like you’re the only girl in the world, and reduces you to putty all within the span of hours? Minutes? You’re ruined. You’re so fucked. The solace is that she’s with you, forever.

“Don’t make me cry.”

“Okay. Give me a kiss.”

You move up to kiss her and it’s the most intimate part of the night. Because it’s after you’ve come undone, after she’s taken care of you. It’s after you’ve clarified that you’re marrying her and there’s no one else for you.

Your fiancé is insufferable. But she’s yours. And you’re hers.

okay WHOEVER this is make fics bc omg

#mary earps x reader #woso x reader #woso

372 notes · View notes

shaylixie · 10 months

Text

Going Home

Word Count: 2k

Genre: Angst

Pairing: Bang Chan x fem!reader

Requested: No.

Part 2

Summary: Chan and Y/n get into a fight, causing one of them to leave.

Warnings / Contains: Language; toxic behaviour.

A/N: The way I write this shit but I'd never act like this irl lmao...I'd like to believe I'd be a lot healthier about it but hey, do it for the angst amirite? Enjoy! 💗

You come home and take your shoes off at the door of your apartment, feeling defeated after yet another shitty day at work. The past month has been hell - work has been so hectic and insane and you barely got a breather. To make things worse, Chan was having his own struggles too, and you hardly had time for each other...which you thought would have made the little time you spent together more special, but it just felt strained. It was getting late, and you desperately needed a hot bath and a meal. The first proper one of the day - that muffin from the morning did a good job sustaining you, but you really really needed something more.

You walked in to the kitchen to find Chan sitting at the table with takeout - God, you completely forgot.

"Channie, hi. Fuck! I'm so sorry, baby. Work finished later than planned and I completely forgot and...are you mad?"

He gave you a tight smile. "It's okay, y/n. I know how things are. The food is cold now though...we should warm it up."

You sighed and sat down at the table. "I feel like shit, Chan. I really am sorry. Why didn't you eat without me?"

"You know I'd never do that," Chan says. "Hey, you're here now. Let's just eat, okay?"

You have a feeling he's trying to appear less hurt than he is, but you dish out the food anyway for both of you and heat it up. You eat together in silence, trying to ignore the slight tension in the air. Afterwards, you get up to wash the dishes and Chan finally speaks up.

"How was your day?"

You can tell he's trying to ignore the tension in the room and move past it, so you do your best to do the same, while remaining as honest as possible.

You sigh. "It was shit. Again."

"I'm sorry," Chan replies.

"It's okay. Not your fault. Anyway. I'm gonna go shower, okay?"

He clears his throat. "Yeah, sure. Let me know if you need anything."

You kiss his cheek and make your way to the bathroom.

When you get into bed, Chan is turned the other way, already asleep...or so you think. You switch the bedside light off and turn to sleep too. It's silent for a while until Chan turns over and runs a hand down your side, stopping at your hip. He presses against you then, and you feel exactly why he's still awake. But after the shitty day - no, month - that you've had, you just don't have it in you. You ignore it, and act like you're asleep. Maybe not the healthiest move, but you're too exhausted to think about it too much.

"Baby?" Chan whispers. "You awake?"

"No," you reply.

He sighs then and flops onto his back, letting out a sigh of defeat. After a few moments, he shakes your arm and then turns to put his bedside light on.

"Y/n, can we talk?" he asks, tone firmer than usual.

"Can it wait?"

"No, no I don't think it can."

You sit up then.

"What going on with us?" he finally asks after weeks of wondering.

"What do you mean?" you ask, knowing but wanting him to elaborate more.

"You mean you haven't noticed? God, we haven't talked in ages. I mean a real conversation. Everything always feels like a string is about to snap...the constant tension...I can't stand it. I don't even know what's happening." It's as though a valve opened, and now everything is pouring out. "Look...you're busy, I get that. But I am too - yet I'm trying, y/n. It feels like you aren't. You come home late. You never come by me anymore...not to the studio, not to my place. It's been what, a month? Maybe more? It feels like more. We don't talk, we don't touch...when's the last time we even had sex? It's like you don't want to even touch me anymore. I don't know if I did something but I don't know what to do anymore. I'm trying...and it feels...it feels like you aren't. Like you haven't been for a while."

He waits for your response, and you feel tears pricking the back of your eyes. Which makes you frustrated...which makes you angry.

"What the fuck do you want me to do, Chris?!"

He's taken aback by your sudden burst of anger.

"I'm tired. Okay? I'm fucking exhausted. I-I don't even know what to do myself. I barely sleep. Or eat. I'm stressed all the time. I feel like I don't even have time for myself let alone you and now what, it's my fault? Fuck this."

You get up from bed and leave the room. Chan sits for a while in stunned silence. What just happened? Fuck it, he's pissed too now.

He follows after you. "Really, y/n? You're gonna take this shit out on me? I'm trying to help us - get us out of whatever the fuck you got us into - and you what, just explode on me? I'm trying to fix us!"

"And what if you can't, Chris?! What if this can't be fixed?"

He looks at you like you just cussed him in 3 different languages. "You really think that?"

"Fucking maybe!"

He laughs a humourless laugh and then shakes his head at you.

"That's all I needed to hear. Fuck this."

He grabs his keys and slips on his shoes, slamming the door behind him and leaving you alone in the dark flat, the tears finally falling down your cheeks.

It's been hours and you still can't sleep. You sob thinking about your fight with Chan; about what you said; what you insinuated. Was it really beyond fixing? You think about what Chan said. He's right...you haven't been making time for him. You haven't spoken the way you used to in what feels like a while. You haven't touched each other lovingly or sexually in a minute and you've ignored his every advance. And he had been trying...Chan was just as stressed out. His deadlines were all coming up and he was suffering with writer's block and he had an appearance soon and the Kids were behind and and and. Yet he still made time for you. Even if it was small. He still came to your place almost every night, even if it was after you fell asleep. He still made sure you ate and he checked in when he could and he always tried to act like things were okay, even if they weren't. He never wanted to add onto your stress. God. You were a dick. You don't deserve him, you think, crying harder. And the cherry on top? In a few days, you'll finally have a break. So much for that now.

It's been 3 heartaching days since the fight with Chan. You haven't spoken in that time, but you can't say it's his fault. The day after, neither of you spoke. The next day, he sent you a message. "Can we talk?" You ignored it. He called that same night, but you declined. He got the message. The third day, he called 4 times. You ignored all the calls. You knew what you had to do.

At 4am that morning, you woke up and started getting ready. You got out of the shower and dressed, hair still wet, when you heard urgent knocking at your door. You opened it, only to see Chan - bags under his slightly red, puffy eyes and hair dishevelled. Your own face probably looked the same.

"Y/n, can we talk? Please?" He paused as if finally noticing you were dressed and your hair was wet. "Where are you going?"

You sighed. "Home," you said in a small voice.

Chan furrowed his eyebrows in confusion. "But you're already home?"

You looked down, and then back at him.

"I mean home Chan...as in South Africa. I'm going back."

He stopped breathing. "What?"

"This isn't working out, Chan. I don't...I don't deserve you. My flight is in 2 hours. I need to get to the airport now. I'll be gone for a while but I have to come back to decide what happens next. Maybe we can talk then."

You move to close the door on him, but he stops you.

"What- You're ending things?"

Now it was your turn to be confused. "Didn't that happen 3 days ago?"

"Y/n, no. It was just a stupid fight! It doesn't mean anything. Don't do this, please. We can work things out. Cancel the flight. Please. Baby...please."

You feel your eyes sting with fresh tears, and you turn to walk to your bedroom to get your things, knowing that trying to get Chan to leave is useless. As you suspected, he follows you and stands behind you as you go to grab a jacket, ignoring your wet hair now. No point drying it while he's here...you had to get out as soon as possible. You go to grab your suitcases, trying painfully hard not to look at Chan whose face is streaked with tears too. You deposit the suitcases at your front door and slip on your shoes, making sure you have everything. Chan watches you do all this, still in shock, as though he doesn't believe any of it is real...like it's just one big nightmare.

"You have to go now, Chan," you sigh. "Or at least, I have to. I can't miss this flight. I'll see you around."

You turn to walk out the door but you stop when you feel his hands wrap around your calves. Looking down, Chan is on his knees, the same way he's been so many times before for you, but so so different now.

"Please," he croaks. He's sobbing now, and he drops his head against your leg. "I'll do anything. Please just don't go. You want me to beg? I'll beg! Please, y/n. I'll make things right...I'll fix this. I'll fix us. I'm sorry. I didn't mean to fuck things up between us...I'm so so sorry, baby. I love you so much...please, please...please, baby. Please."

You're sobbing too now. You kneel down, facing him, and take his face in your hands, wiping his tears. In between shuddering breaths, you say, "That's the thing, Chan. You don't have to fix anything. You weren't the one that broke it...that was all me. I don't deserve you, Channie. Maybe I did once, but not anymore. You deserve someone better." You cry harder at the thought of him with someone else. Composing yourself enough to talk, you add, "You deserve someone who can love you where I failed to...I'm sorry. I'm so sorry, baby." You kiss his forehead.

"That's bullshit, y/n! I know you love me. And it's enough! It's enough for me. Look, a lot of shit has just been happening to us but we can fix it. Okay? Just give us a chance. Fuck anyone else - I don't want anyone else. I want YOU! You're all I've ever wanted and I'll never-" He breaks down sobbing again. "I'll never want anyone besides you. You hear me? Stay. Stay for me, baby. Please."

You both break down even more then, foreheads against each other. You stay like that for a while before you glimpse the time. You still had to drive to the airport and check in your luggage and board and-. You had to leave. You move to stand, pulling Chan up with you. You hug him, and eventually force yourself to let go.

"If it's meant to be...it'll be. Yeah?" you say.

Chan just sniffs in response, fresh tears brewing.

"I'll see you when I get back and then...well, we can see from there. Okay?"

"So it's not over?" he asks.

You kiss his cheek and hand him your key. "Lock up for me?"

You grab your suitcases and make your way to the car, leaving a heartbroken, devastated Chan behind.

599 notes · View notes

c1oud999 · 4 months

Text

i just wanted to come on here and talk about my experience with spirituality. warning: longggg post ahead.

basically ive been in the spiritual community for YEARS now. ive had existential crisis since the age of 11 and ive gone through many phases of many different spiritual trends. from law of attraction, to witchcraft, to religious devotion, to law of assumption and now finally non dualism. i read books, meditated for hours and hours, talked to spiritual ppl from all walks of life and watched all the episodes of ganga upanishad (a show i still highly recommend, you can watch on youtube). all this childhood trauma and mental illness made me crave for sweet relief. but nothing really made sense until law of assumption. i thought that that would be it yk. i thought i was done searching but i think that was when i was searching for things the most. i do know i have it in my 4d, when will i see it? i thought i would get all my desires but did not meet success. and then the non dualism trend began and i hopped onto it like pretty much everyone else. i was bewildered at the stuff teachers kept saying. what do you mean everything's an illusion? there's no way that's true. my very real surroundings are causing me VERY real pain and suffering. oh no no there must be a deeper meaning behind all this. and so i read all the books in 4dbarbies drive, but nothing clicked. yes it made sense intellectually, but i didnt want to believe it bc where is the materialisation satisfaction here? also i felt none of the euphoria that was supposed to come with self realisation. which means i must not be a realised being. and then i cried and cried and cried, isolated myself, literally stopped going to school and just lay in bed all day. but ofc, i continued to read the tumblr posts like i had been doing for the past several years. and yesterday i read 4dkelly's post about giving up. it made sense. by the time i had finished reading the post i had truly given up on everything. on wanting, hoping, fearing, striving etc etc. i was SO tired. so i gave up. fell asleep. i woke up really late as usual and missed the school bus. i ate breakfast in silence, switched the tv on and lied down on the couch like always. and like always out of compulsion and force of habit i reached for my phone and looked up non dualism on twitter. and then i came across a tweet that said a simple sentence only- "nothing is ever actually happening." woah. that kinda drove me to the edge of the cliff i desperately wanted to jump off. i turned on some dnb background music and turned the shower on. i stood under the boiling hot water like some dramatic bitch and started piecing together the "puzzle". it all made so much sense now. i got out of the shower and left the house for the first time in months with a cute outfit and makeup on and everything. i went to the mall, bought candles, stickers, eye masks, coffee, and a doughnut with absolutely no social anxiety at all. i sat by window, read some poetry on my e-reader, cried, peered down at the floor below me and cried some more at the sight of little kids sitting on santa's lap and taking pictures and marveled at all the christmas decorations around me. it was insane. i decided i was going to be neutral towards everything but im in love. maddeningly so. in love with this dream that i thought did not love me back. but love is all there is. I AM ALL THERE IS. and i need you to take this literally. there is nothing happening. there is nothing here except you. nothing to fear, nothing to desire. ik a lot of people are going to dismiss this post because it's not a "materialisation success story" but i honestly dont think i can ever want anything physically bc in all its true essence, what is there to materialise? i am already whole and complete. i am lying on this cold hard floor, but i have never felt warmer. also ik there may be a lot of things ive written you might not agree with but again, this is NOT REAL. I AM. i hope this post helps you.

thank you to all the blogs ive come across and all the pointers they have shared: @se1f @realisophie @itgomyway @4dkellysworld @4dbarbie-backup @infiniteko @iamthat-iam and many more i cannot thank enough.

lots and lots of love (more than you can ever imagine), and good luck.

#nondualism #consciousness #advaita vedanta #awareness #advaita #non duality #law of assumption #manifestation #manifesting #neville goddard

249 notes · View notes

digitaldiarystuff · 14 days

Text

Our Secret Pt.2

sooo i’m starting to write before the poll is over hope the result stays the same lol

also thank you for not giving up on me💕

you can read part one here

————

pairing: Pedri Gonzalez x Y/N x Fermin Lopez

summary: you are Pedri’s girlfriend and know his friends, one of them being Fermin. It doesn’t look like he likes you very much but what if he likes you too much?

genre: angst

————

That night after Fermin dropped you at your place you had a weird feeling in your stomach you couldn’t quite place, you didn’t do anything wrong, you kept reminding yourself. Fermin is literally Pedri’s friend, he was just doing you a favor and you’re mad at Pedri because he left you alone, that’s it.

After taking a much needed shower to clear your thoughts you laid on your bed hoping to sleep quickly but unfortunately, you weren’t that lucky and had trouble falling asleep. You felt upset about Pedri’s behavior at the party and suddenly realized all the other times he made you feel uneasy in public, there were times he didn’t feel comfortable being seen with you because you weren’t official yet and that’s understandable given the fact that he’s insanely famous but a part of you felt like you shouldn’t be hidden no matter what. The more you thought about it, the sadder you felt but finally, you felt your eyes closing.

The next morning you woke up a little late and with a headache, great, you thought. You found your phone in between your sheets and looked at missed notifications secretly hoping to see a good morning text from Pedri but there was something else. An unsaved number texted you at 8.32 am

Hey, good morning! Hope you’re okay and don’t have a headache or stomachache, I think eating McDonald’s that late was a mistake 😅

You immediately realized it was Fermin and your heart warmed with his thoughtful words, he didn’t have to text you or check up on you but still did it while your boyfriend couldn’t even bother asking if you went home okay. It’s not like he was asleep because you knew for a fact he had practice this morning so he had to be up. You decided not to let it get to you and started typing.

Hey thank you so much for everything, I don’t know how I’d survive last night without you! And yes the nuggets definitely were a mistake lol, hope you’re okay too

You reread the text trying to make sure it’s not weird but why would it be weird, it’s just two friends checking up on each other even though you didn’t even know he had your number before today. He could’ve easily got it from Pedri, right?

Fermin didn’t text you back after that and you thought maybe it’s for the best but you also didn’t hear from Pedri until well into the afternoon when he called.

“Hey” he smiled softly like he wasn’t black out drunk last night

“Hey” you said with slight coldness in your voice but you weren’t doing it on purpose.

“Are we still on for tonight?” he asked without even mentioning anything about the previous night’s events and you were kind of taken aback.

“What’s tonight?”

“We have that charity event, remember, I told you a week ago.” you suddenly remembered him asking you to accompany him to this fancy event.

At first you were thrilled with the idea thinking this may be the night you make your relationship official but he quickly shut the idea down by telling you he’d pose for the cameras out front and meet up with you once the auction starts. You were less excited now but still said yes and forgot about it all till now.

“Oh yeah, sure we’re still going. How are you planning on going there?”

“The boys and I were thinking about getting a limo, can you take an Uber and meet me there?”

“Do you not want me in the limo?” you asked shocked by how inconsiderate he was being. First he hides you from the world and now he wants you to step in an Uber with a fancy looking dress and ride there alone.

“No of course not, you can come get ready at mine then. I’ll be at the house by five.”

“You know what, I’ll find my own way Pedri. You don’t have to worry about me, not that you care.” you said and ended the call feeling agitated.

He tried calling you a few more times but you didn’t pick up, you even considered turning your phone off and not showing up but wanted to have a nice night with him, maybe this could solve your issues.

You started getting ready for the event, trying on 2 different dresses. One was an off the shoulder black silk maxi dress and the other was a dark red spaghetti strap maxi dress with a wide slit on the side and a corset as a top. You took mirror selfies with both dresses and sent it to your best friend who was on top of your messages app and started on your makeup as you waited for an answer. Your phone pinged not long after and you picked it up expecting it to be Elena but was shocked to see Fermin’s name on the screen. You remembered saving his number in the morning. He sent you a single text.

Definitely the red one

Your cheeks heat up immediately realizing your mistake, you sent the photos to Fermin instead of Elena because he was the last person you texted.

I’m so sorry, it was meant for someone else lol

You wrote back but made a mental note to wear the red dress, maybe it was that much better. You anxiously waited an answer from Fermin but it never came and you felt stupid, did he think you did it on purpose or was he being the cold and stoic Fermin you know again? You felt like you managed to make him open up more and made progress in your friendship and would hate if he went back to being distant. You thought about what can you text him that would make him answer but before you could find something your phone started ringing.

Fermin Lopez

You picked it up slightly nervous.

“Hey”

“Hey, are you not riding with everyone else to the venue?” he asked straight away without even asking how you were.

“No, um, I’ll go straight from my place so…” you drifted off not knowing how to explain why you weren’t going with your boyfriend.

“Are you ready?”

“Well, I’ll probably be ready in 15.” you looked at yourself in the mirror, you had the dress on and your makeup was almost done.

“Okay, I’ll pick you up then.” he suggested but his voice was so neutral you couldn’t understand any emotion behind it.

“What? Fermin you don’t ha…”

“I’m on my way Y/N. I’ll text you once I’m outside.” he said and hung up before you could even reply.

You stood there for a few moments trying to understand what just happened, why was Fermin this interested in how you’ll arrive at the venue or how you’re doing and more importantly, why wasn’t Pedri?

You decided to push these thoughts away and put on your accessories for the night but was a little too slow because Fermin already texted you before you could put everything on. You told him you need 5 more minutes and he was welcome to wait in your living room whilst you finish up and he soon rang the doorbell.

You opened the door revealing Fermin in a suit, this was the first time you’ve seen him this formal and admittedly, he looked nice. Actually he looked so good that you had to tear your eyes away from him but he didn’t look like he noticed, he was too busy looking at your figure with wide eyes. This may be the longest he’s ever looked your way but once you made proper eye contact, he immediately looked away.

“Hi” you smiled and hugged him softly, kissing one of his cheeks. He smiled at you and placed his hand on your waist careful not to put it too low. It felt more like a fancy first date than two friends carpooling to a charity event where your boyfriend was waiting for you and the thought made your stomach turn. There was something about Fermin that you couldn’t understand, he was never inappropriate or weird with you but you couldn’t help but feel something and that something scared the living shit out of you.

“You look amazing, told you this was the best dress.” he shyly said and your cheeks turned red with his compliment, you knew he preferred this dress but it was also your favorite. You didn’t wear it for him.

“So do you.” you replied and it was his turn to have reddened cheeks. He looked down at his shoes and didn’t look back up until you spoke again.

“Let me put on my shoes and we can go.”

You went into your shoe closet and picked out the nude heels you had in mind. They weren’t too high but still elevated your look. You dropped them in front of your door and tried getting in them but struggled because of your dress hugging your body tightly, Fermin soon noticed your uncomfortable state.

“Here, let me help you” he didn’t even let you reply and kneeled down in front of you to help you step into your shoes and buckle them, he did one foot and lightly tapped your calf for you to hold the other one. His one hand on behind your calf steadied you while the other helped you and you were standing so close that you could feel his breath on your exposed leg which made you shiver. You placed one hand on his shoulder and he looked up at you, his eyes were filled with yet another emotion but this time you knew it wasn’t something like sadness or anger, it was pure lust and you hated that you also had the same look on your face.

He slowly rose to his feet but you didn’t let go of his shoulder, you felt glued to him at that moment. Fermin must have felt the same because he stood so close to you that your noses nearly touched and he made no effort to pull back, you knew better you really did, you should’ve taken a step back thank him for helping you and go to the event but Fermin had other plans.

He suddenly closed the gap between you two and pressed his lips onto yours in a hasty manner like he had to do it, he did it so urgently as if he needed you and you couldn’t help but move your lips with his placing your hand on the back of his neck. Your judgement was too clouded to stop as he walked you back into your living room without breaking the kiss, he only stopped when your back hit the wall and a soft moan escaped your lips.

“Fermin” you mewled as he was moving his hands all around your body and on your exposed leg.

He pulled back slightly, your foreheads still touching and both of you panting. His eyes opened for the first time since he kissed you and looked straight into your soul.

“Fermin” you whispered this time not even sure if you were asking him to stop or carry on.

“Y/N, I want this. I want this so fucking much but if you don’t, I can get out of here now and we can pretend this never happened. I’ll never bother you again.” he softly said and you were surprised at how calm he was talking contrary to how passionate he was being mere seconds ago.

You closed your eyes to try to slow your heartbeat down, your whole body was shaking a little. You tried to think but all you could think about was his lips and hands on you.

You stood there for a moment before leaning in again and he happily accepted your advances telling you to jump and you obliged not caring about anything else in the world other than Fermin. He was making you feel that alive.

“God, you’re perfect” he said while carrying you to your room and kissing every inch of skin he could find.

“Just make me feel good” you begged him and he nodded eagerly. He was going to do just that.

72 notes · View notes