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latin5mamii · 2 months

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Camera - Jude Bellingham

WARNINGS: fluff yet a bit smut

SUMMARY: You two really needed a camera that holds all of your memories, even the intimate ones...

AUTHOR'S NOTE: late night thoughts pt.2 😉

“For my favorite photographer,” Jude announced as he breezed into your bedroom, a large parcel cradled in his hands.

You looked up from where you were lounging on the bed, a book splayed open on your chest. The soft afternoon sunlight filtered through the sheer curtains, casting a dreamy halo over everything in the room. A smile tugged at the corners of your lips as you set the book aside and propped yourself up.

“What’s this?” you asked, curiosity dancing in your eyes.

Jude’s grin was both mischievous and affectionate as he settled on the bed beside you. His hand found its way to your thigh, sending a shiver up your spine. “Just open it. I’m sure you’ll love it.”

You could barely contain your excitement as you tore off the wrapping paper. There, nestled inside the box, was a beautifully crafted, leather-bound camera. Your breath caught in your throat, and you looked at Jude with wide, delighted eyes.

“Jude, it’s amazing!” you exclaimed, your heart fluttering with joy.

His smile deepened, and he leaned in, his eyes locked onto yours. “I thought of you as soon as I saw it.”

Moved by his thoughtfulness, you leaned in and pressed a tender kiss to his lips, your heart swelling with affection. “We have to try it out right now,” you said, pulling back with a playful sparkle in your eyes.

With a laugh, you both began to experiment with funny poses. The room soon filled with peals of laughter as you struck goofy poses and made exaggerated faces. Jude mimicked you with his own brand of silliness, and the camera clicked away, capturing every joyous moment.

But as the minutes passed, the atmosphere in the room shifted. The playful energy began to morph into something deeper, more intense. The smiles lingered a bit longer, the touches became more charged with a burgeoning desire.

Jude’s fingers brushed against your arm, the touch electrifying and intimate. He leaned closer, his voice a low, velvety murmur that sent a thrill through you. “I think it’s time we tried something a little different,” he said, his gaze filled with a promise of unspoken things.

A shiver of anticipation raced down your spine. You nodded, your eyes meeting his with an unspoken agreement. “I’m all for it.”

Jude’s arms slipped around your waist, pulling you close. His breath was warm and tantalizing against the back of your neck, and his fingers traced the curve of your shoulder before sliding slowly down your arm. The touch was feather-light, sending a cascade of tingles through your skin.

With a playful tilt of your head, you looked at him, your lips curling into a teasing smile. “Let’s make this special.”

He cupped your face in his hands, his gaze unwavering as he locked eyes with you. The camera clicked, capturing the tender moment before his lips descended onto yours. The kiss was deep and passionate, a merging of warmth and urgency that made your heart race and your breath catch.

The camera continued to click, each photo freezing the fervent intimacy between you. His hands roamed over your body with a mix of tenderness and fervor, and the kisses grew more intense, more desperate. The camera captured every moment: his fingers tangled in your hair, your bodies pressed close, the way his lips moved against yours with increasing intensity.

In one photograph, Jude’s hands were wrapped around your waist, his lips barely brushing yours as he gazed at you with an expression of pure devotion. In another, he lifted you effortlessly into his arms, his eyes shining with adoration as he held you close.

You ran your fingers through his hair, pulling him even closer, deepening the kiss. His hands traveled up your back, guiding you gently to lie down on the bed. The camera flashed again, preserving the tender moment as you both lay side by side, your faces flushed with passion and joy.

Jude’s voice was a soft whisper as he cupped your face,

“These photos are going to be my favorite memories,” he said, his voice thick and low.

You smiled, your heart overflowing with love as you kissed him deeply, you murmured against his lips,

“Mine too”

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yjhzies · 2 months

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“Let the world know.” — Jeon Wonwoo

⸝⸝୭ ˚. fluff . one-shot

⋆ pairings : wonwoo x gn!reader ⋆ warning : none! (let me know if there is ^^) ⋆ wc : 0.5k [✉️] · discovering a secret admirer that's not your boyfriend...

⋆ - note : (4 the req) MUAHAHA WE DEF HAVE LOTS OF THOUGHTS ON JEALOUS WONU🔥 (but lets keep it out of here...!) I think we both need to touch grass... I havent even touched actual grass even though I go outside everyday 😝 is somebody gonna match my freak??

"Baby, you have a letter and a parcel from someone..."

Wonwoo said, walking in through the front door with a letter in one hand and a parcel in the other, staring at the letter and flipflopping it.

As he placed the package on the table, you looked from the TV to your boyfriend.

"Really? Who sent it?" You inquired, rising from the couch and walking over to Wonwoo.

He shrugged as he handed you the letter. "It doesn't have a name in it."

You frown, taking the letter from him. As Wonwoo begins to open the securely wrapped package, you unfold the letter and begin to read.

"Dear Y/N, this is a letter to express my admiration and gratitude to you. You may not know me, but I am one of the hundreds who admire you from afar. I've always found you beautiful, and I wanted to let you know that I've liked you for a long time n-" You pause, realizing where this was going.

You peek over Wonwoo's shoulder to see him staring at the package, looking shocked. Your gaze lands in the direction where he was staring, and there were roses. Red roses.

You fold the letter and set it aside as you stand beside him.

"Come on, Wonu, it's not like I don't already have thousands of letters already. But, I wouldn't mind another one!" You chuckle, assuming it is Wonwoo sneaking you letters for the nth time, acting like a secret admirer.

"Gross."

Wonwoo said, glaring at the roses through his glasses on the table. You raise your head to look at him and tilt your head.

"Huh?"

"Look at those," he said, reaching out to take one of the roses. "This isn't even the colour you like."

"I can literally buy a million times better one!" He scoffed. "And most importantly, doesn't he know the person he just confessed to has a boyfriend? How weird."

You freeze.

You stand there, stunned as Wonwoo points out every tiny imperfection, your eyes widening as you try to register everything in your brain.

"It's not yours?"

You ask, but judging by the expression on his face, you already know the answer is no.

"I can write a better letter, don't you think?" He raised his eyebrows.

You nod your head, trying to suppress a smile. With a proud nod, he reaches out to rewrap the package before picking it up and tossing it in the garbage can.

"I'll tell the delivery man to return it to whoever sent it," he said, turning to you with a slight pout. He draws you in for a hug, encircling your waist with his arms held tightly but not painfully.

"I can buy you millions of better flowers, you don't need others when I'm here." He said, and you finally let out a chuckle as you noticed the sulkiness in his voice.

"I know, Wonu," you say, patting his back. "I would have rejected it anyways, but I surely am endeared by a jealous Wonwoo."

Glancing down, he covers his face with your neck as he blushes. "I wish I could keep you all to myself, but you're so beautiful, everyone wants you and it's hard to do so."

"First of all, I should be saying that. And second, they're not the one I want, It's you."

"I know, but," he says, pulling back to kiss your lips. "I'll want to let the world know that you're mine and I'm yours."

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wroteclassicaly · 1 year

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For The Record

(Steve Harrington x Female Reader)

Summary: You have a surprise for your best-friend Steve.

Word count: 1,647

Warnings: Language, NSFW, creampie, vaginal sex, slight choking, slight breeding kink if you squint, and fluff.

Pairings: Steve Harrington x Female Reader

A/N: Just a filthy little thing that I’ve been nurturing for a few days. No point to it, just showing Stevie some love! Haven’t written anything this lengthy in a while, but I hope y’all enjoy? ;P 💕❤️🥰♥️

Steve. Steve-fucking-Harrington. The heart of your group with a head of hair (that you’d washed, brushed, picked monster guts out of, and pulled, one too many times), a comforting smile that reminded you of Summer’s fading sunsets that give way to fall colors. All copper, rust, orange, mossy caramels swirling together, deep browns that look like cinnamon (smells like the gum he chews, or the breath spray he carries in his back pocket), sometimes even red in how his cheeks tinge on cold days, the way he makes your body warm. To his protective - fighter mode, like a crafted out of the finest marble guardian-angelic-god.

You’d worship at his temple. All day. Every single day.

His mouth has been in as many places as his hands. He knows every scar, just as much as he’s aware of spots, in which kissing you will cause goosebumps to electrify, sparking themselves known across your skin, or where his fingers will cause that high pitched whine to come from between your lips. You can’t really fathom that it’s been happening, especially for how long. There’s been no talk of labels, what anything means, it’s just been two friends crossing a line and fucking one another on it. You don’t know what you would’ve done, had it not been for Steve-the-hair-Harrington, King Steve, your extra heartbeat, your best-friend, your everything.

And that’s what led you to your current predicament, your planned leap of faith. Wrapped in a maroon colored mini gift bag, you had placed the packet. Steve arrived not long after, movies and pizza balanced in his massive hands, keys dangling from the middle finger of his left hand, a cheesy grin pressing into that beautiful mouth. “Hey, honey,” he had said. “Really missed you today, you know that?”

You’d taken in his appearance of dark Levi’s and a black belt, his signature Nike’s, and a low dipped white v-neck that he’d thrown a plain blue button over, leaving it open, his gold chain visible, nestled in that patch of chest hair. Salivating more at him than the food, it took you a second to help him inside.

You ate in avid chatter, watched one of the lamest, but most comforting horror films Steve could find on the shelves (that no one rented but he knew you’d appreciate), whilst being tucked beneath his bicep, warmed at his side. That’s when you’d retrieved the gift off your coffee table, his palm rubbing circles across your spine, kneading tension until you returned to your position. You handed him the bag and his bushy brows had pinched together, an adorable confusion clear. “For me? What did I do?”

“Just open it, Harrington. Before my nerves make me take it back.”

He cradled the parcel protectively, a pout forming as his watch strapped wrist dips inside. “No way, no how. Nope, not now.”

“Steve…” you laughed lightly, suddenly swallowing as he pulled the packet out, trying to make sense of the name.

“Contraceptive? I don’t… Isn’t this birth control?” He shook the packet before planting it in his massive palm.

You could feel your heartbeat in your throat, choking you like a vice, preventing you from answering in a full sentence.

“Yeah.”

“So, it’s yours? Why did you wrap it up and give it to me?”

“There’s a few missing already, Steve. I just wanted to get used to them before… Before I told you.”

“Told me, what?” He still looked puzzled, seeking out where you’d opened the package and taken a few tablets.

“That I just wanna use these from now on. Nothing else. If you, if that’s okay with you...?” You had felt the sharp claws of the butterflies, threatening to demolish your remaining courage. But this was Steve, you needed to remember that.

It took him a few moments, but then his pupils expanded within the enriching mossy flecks of his irises, at a rapid pace. His tongue licked at the five o’clock shadow above his upper lip. His voice, you’ll never forget how it sounded. Honey-hot and hoarse, raspy with bitten want, raw fucking desire. You’d clenched your thighs together, tongue eager to lick him… every-fucking-where — the burn of it felt on the muscle’s tip.

“Isn’t that something you do with a boyfriend, though? Not casual sex with a good friend, one of your best-friends?”

And you nod, vision swimming with shapes. Had you messed up? Fuck it. “It is.” Is what you’d responded with, taking the packet from him and tossing it with the bag back onto the table. The movie was rolling credits in the background and you were watching Steve’s dotted jugular as he swallowed, showcasing those tendons, all the way up to that stubble bitten jawline, dotted with freckles and moles.

“And who is your boyfriend, honey?” He had to hear you say it. If it’s what he thought it was, or you’d simply break his heart and move on to this guy. Could he really believe in a good thing again?

You leapt off that faithful precipice, years and feelings following, eyes locking, gaze unrelenting. “I was hoping it would be you.”

He was obviously choked up, orbs alight with mirth and excitement, among other things. “Funny that you mention that, because I’ve been hoping for the exact same thing.”And he’d fallen into your arms, seizing you with a kiss, noses nudging, tongues eager and messy. Clothes couldn’t come off fast enough.

The king sized condom lays unopened on your plush blush rug. Having fallen out of Steve’s wallet, that had also tumbled from his jean pocket in haste. Everything was out of control in the best possible way. You could’ve sworn you died a few minutes prior and came back as immortal — able to see through particles that floated on the air, hear cars, horns, music from houses all across town, smell the leaves that clung to the trees, damp with rain water and Autumn air. Your eyes roll back, perspiration damp behind the backs of your knees, where he’s got his current pinching grip, the fat of your thighs pressed into your tits, squishing them.

You realize in the moment, that you truly loathe condoms. Because this? Feeling that wet pre-cum smear down his shaft and around your opening as he pushed himself into you without a barrier for the first time, it was an indescribable experience. Each ridge, every vein, so hot, soft, and fucking, soaking wet. You aren’t sure where he ends and you begin. It hurts like hell, aches in the deepest parts of you, a place you know that he could easily put a child if you slipped up on your only remaining protection.

That thought makes you tighten around him, cream spilling out and further slicking back the curls gathered at his base. He drops your thighs, sweat-slick pelvis smashing into yours, stimulating your swollen clit. His chest hair scrapes against your pebbled nipples, making you arch your back and your toes curl, legs locking around his lower waist. He whines, palm coming up to grasp at your breast, calloused thumb strumming around your areola. “God, honey, your fucking nipples were made for my mouth to suck on.”

And he’s descending, his lips closing over one, tongue flicking and stimulating. You cry out, hand fisting into his honey streaked, chestnut locks. His shoulders work and bend, the dips and freckles and moles visible, glittering with the salt of sweat, his gold chain swaying out from his hairy chest and back again when he stops, nose bumping yours, hot breath on your mouth. “This pussy was made for my cock.”

And holy hell, his vocalizing focus doesn’t cease. “Who took your virginity, honey?” You both know it wasn’t him. But you are well aware what he’s getting at, and as he gives a harsh snap, those full and fat balls smacking your slick ass, you lose further coherency. “That’s right,” he’s speaking again. “They don’t matter, but I do.”

You weren’t aware that you could make the noises that you are. Only able to speak once Steve’s tugging himself and pulling out, stringing from your cunt to his shaft, a squelch echoing. You both groan, emptiness already jumpstarted. You plead for him. “Please, Stevie, need you! Put it back in —“

“Say it, say you’re just a hole for me to fill. That you’re only mine, baby.”

“I… Fuck! Stevie, all my holes are only yours, I’m only yours!”

He sinks his teeth into his bottom lip, before his jaw drops open and he whimpers. His hand leaves your breast and slides across your sternum, your collarbone, and settles at your neck. You nod to encourage, and those defined digits wrap around your throat.

“Tell me you love these big hands, sweetheart. Because they’re for you. They belong to you!”

“Want them all over me, Steve. All the time. Can’t get enough of you.”

He’s holding firm to his cock, stroking and teasing. You lick your lips as you stare at it, drooling. Reaching down, you tap his wrist (his arm, all muscles and tendons, thick and available to trace with your tongue), as he presses the thick red head into your clit, smearing the combination of you two all around. You mewl in appreciation, legs stretching so far apart that your muscles protest. He’s speaking next, panting out, “Like that? Hey, look at me. He grabs your chin, thumb tugging down your bottom lip. “Like. That?”

Your lip releases with a plop.

“Yes, yes! Don’t stop, Steve, never wanna not feel you again, baby boy!”

“That’s a good girl, that’s my girl.” He circles your sore opening and slips back inside with a loud, wet ease. You bite back the burning pain, welcoming the damp tears of pleasure along your lashes.

Your manicured nails cling to his back, his chest gliding along yours, heartbeat to hammering heartbeat. It’s frantic whispers and begging cries. And when he’s close to coming, you find his cheek with one hand, holding. “For the record, you’ve never been casual to me, Steve Harrington.”

// Eat me paragraph //

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jallerentrags · 6 months

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Better than him.

James Potter x Reader, based on 'Boyfriend' by Dove Cameron.

James Potter thought of himself as a lucky man.

He had everything he wanted: Good grades, good friends, a good life. The only thing he wanted, which he worried he might never have, was you.

Y/n Cassiopeia Black, twin sister to the elusive and handsome Regulus Black. But despite being at the same school, and being best mates with your older brother, the space between the both of you was almost impossible to cross. You were cold and indifferent - sticking with your friends and Regulus - and avoided James like the plague. You rarely spoke, supposedly scorned by his theft of your older brother, and when you did converse, it was usually under the watchful eyes of Charles Nott, your betrothed.

At the age of 16, you had been auctioned and sold to the highest bidder, wrapped in his vice like grip. James watched from the side-lines as the eyes that used to shine like her brother's name-sake, faded.

He had tried to become besotted with Lily, a beautiful and intelligent girl, but it was futile. Your power over him was strong, his urge to move on with Lily too weak. But a strong friendship between the Head Boy and Girl did blossom, so James ended up ranting to Lily about his situation.

“James I don’t know what to say. Y/n is one of the most prized girls in school and her circle is small. Your best bet to get her attention is to ask Sirius to introduce you,” Lily paused to brush her long hair out of her eyes and behind her shoulder with a thoughtful look, “Of course, that’s if she’s willing to speak to Sirius, I don’t think I’ve seen them together since last year.”

James sighed. He already knew that you had closed yourself off after losing your brother, and he grimaced thinking about how hurt you must feel. He knew that Sirius was still mourning his loss as heir to the House of Black, and heard him crying at night when his ache for his little siblings grew too heavy.

“I know,” James fiddled with his glasses, face heating up. “Maybe it’s best if I just leave it. It’s a pipe dream that a girl like that would ever go for a guy like me.” James moved to pick up his books from the library table and head to his dorm, mood low. Lily gasped and slapped his hand away.

“Definitely not! I remember Remus telling me that you two were completely smitten and oblivious to it despite belonging to rival houses. The James Potter should definitely not give up this easily,” Lily’s brows were lowered in an expression of seriousness, her lips thin, “I’ve got an idea. You know the Christmas Ball is this weekend?”

Of course James knew the Christmas Ball was this weekend. The whole school had been preparing for it since it was announced early November, a night of bliss and relaxation to temporarily ignore the deteriorating state of the outside World. James’ parents had already sent him his dress robes, and he saw that last Tuesday you had received a large parcel in the mail which he guessed must of been your dress.

“Yes, but I don’t see why that matters? She’ll be going with Charles. He proposed in August.” James spat, anger lacing into his words. Lily merely rolled her eyes and huffed.

“So? Steal her away! Ask her to dance and charm her! I’m sure it won’t be that difficult, it’s not as if she’s in love with Nott,” Lily placed her hands on the table and leaned towards him, “She’ll definitely leave him for you, she’s always been sympathetic towards muggle-born’s and I heard her talking about how she wishes she didn’t have to marry Nott. Give her a reason, Be her reason, and she’ll leave her supremacist family and be with you.” James scoffed and leaned back in his chair, watching as Lily reclined also.

“I don’t think it’ll be that easy. She loves Regulus and she fits the role as ‘Slytherin’s Princess’ perfectly. I don’t want to put myself out there for her if she’s already too far gone.”

“Believe me. She’s not. People don’t look at each other like you two do.” Lily smiled at him, certainty blazing in her emerald eyes, “You could be her new beginning, and I really think she wants that. She loves Regulus and she always will, but I know that he would value her happiness and I doubt that she wouldn’t love to have a reason to escape,” Lily’s hand reached over to James’ and clasped it, “I really believe that you two would work. I want to see you happy James, please trust me.”

James’ lips formed a smile, and he felt hope blare in his chest. If Lily, the smartest girl he knew, believed that he stood a chance, then he had faith. He squeezed her hand and stood up, collecting his books and shoving them into his bag.

“I trust you, now watch me get my girl.”

————————————————————————-

The Great Hall looked beautiful, you thought, as you entered. The ceiling showcased a clear starry sky, and the decorations shone and sparkled in the candle light. Ice sculptures decorated the corners, and 12 great circle tables surrounded a square dance floor and far off, adjacent the teachers table, was a long buffet and drinks table laden with Honeydukes delights and crisp pumpkin juice. Charles, your financeé, gripped your hand tighter and dragged you to a table with his friends, only slightly admitting how beautiful you looked in your F/c gown. Charles' friends briefly acknowledged you (with a few appreciative eyebrow raises) before ignoring your presence entirely. Across the room, you spotted your older brother and his friends, who hadn't seemed to notice your entrance just yet. Sirius looked remarkable like always, a classic example of the Black families striking looks. Even Remus looked quite handsome in his robes, and Peter had cleaned up nicely. Admittedly, you thought, James looked incredibly good in his robes and had caught your eye as soon as you entered the Great Hall. His robes were tailored to his fit physique perfectly, and his hazel eyes shone with excitement. Although he hadn't managed to tame his hair, you secretly appreciated how well it framed his face.

"Admiring the blood traitor, Y/n?" Rosier, one of Charles' close friends, scoffed. You turned back to the table, missing James' look your way, and shot a smile in Rosier's direction.

"Of course not," you replied, entangling your arm from Charles' grip, "But you have to admit that he does look very enjoyable in his robes." you smirked, watching as Charles' face contorted into a sneer. He made to grab for you, already muttering about your incompetence with an extremely angry look on his face. He wrapped his hand around your arm hard, pulling you close enough to whisper in your ear. Despite being pulled into his side, his body still angled away from you, like you didn't matter at all. From across the hall, you wondered whether it looked like it was a lover's embrace. It was anything but. You spared no love for Charles, and it was no secret. Rosier and the others all sniggered, slurs tumbling from their lips and their faces a mixture of disgust and outrage.

"Y/n, you should watch your mouth. You don't want people thinking that you agree with your mutt of a brother, do you?" Charles asked, his face settling into a blank stare. Your brows lowered and your lips curled, before quickly schooling features once more. You simply hummed, avoiding Charles' eyes. "Now run along to Regulus. I'll come to you when I need you." He unwrapped his hand from your arm and pushed you away, before turning back to his group. You wondered through Hall, greeting friends, before making a bee-line for your twin. The dancing had begun, a light tempo that sent couples soaring over the floor. You watched in admiration, the way they held each other, looking into each others eyes like no one else existed, souls mingling and stretching across the floor. You wished you could be swept along the floor, lost in the steps and the feel of your partners hands. The partner you imagined never had the Nott green eyes and cigar scented yellowed palms, he always had the face of your older brother's best friend.

From behind you, you heard somebody cough to catch your attention, and you turned on your heel to come face to face with James Potter, watching his already huge smile grow wider. His hands were in his trouser pockets, his body angled towards you so completely that you couldn't even acknowledge other's brushing up against you.

"I can't believe we're finally alone, I've been trying to catch you since you arrived, you look so beautiful," James revealed, blush drifting across his cheeks, "I almost went back up to the dorm."

"Well that would've been a shame, Potter" you smiled back, easing towards him, "I was hoping to see you on the dance floor."

James laughed, a sound that sent shudders down your spine and took his hand out of his pocket to push up his glasses that had fallen down his nose. "What are the chances? I wanted to see you on the dance floor too," James squared his shoulders and cleared his throat "Everyone's dancing, yet you aren't, somebody that I know is stuck by dance fever frequently, and he's not with you," James leaned forward and smirked, "the Universe must of divined us, little Black, it looks like we're destined to dance together tonight."

You could almost see the thoughts fly across his face as he grabbed your wrist before you could even object, pulling you towards the dance floor. The music had changed to a sweet, mouldable beat, sweeping partners across the floor in unique waltzes and dips. James positioned you on the floor, a large hand leaving a burning touch on you waist and the other slipping into you awaiting hand as you breathlessly laughed. Your hands fit together perfectly, just like his hand rested so perfectly on the curve of your waist. He started leading, smiling down at you as though you placed the stars in the sky, a twinkle in his bespectacled eyes. You followed readily, returning his smile and placing you hand on his shoulder, heat building and spreading under your dress at your close contact.

You were flying, soaring, just two people in a sea of revellers. You didn't slip from his gaze, totally unfettered, lost in him. You never stumbled, never faltered, you recalled every conversation, every lingering glance, every lasting touch, knowing you were utterly enthralled. James looked the same, captivated by your presence, stuck in your energy. You saw the words bubble in him, and your heart soared when he stopped biting his tongue.

"Y/n," he whispered, drawing you closer, his face a picture intimacy, "I could be a better boyfriend than him," you sucked in air, but didn't draw from his arms. James tightened his grip on your hip as you looked deeply into his eyes, "I could do all the shit that he never does," he flared his fingers against your waist, "I'll stay up all night for you, I won't quit. I'm thinking that I'm going to steal you from him," he dropped his head to press against your forehead, your joined hands tight as you still manoeuvred around the floor, "I could be such a gentleman, plus all my clothes would look so good on you." You slowed to a stop, dancers fluttering around you as you ended up at a loss for words, mouth agape and your heart singing. "I could be so much better for you than him."

"James..." you unlaced your joined hands, already missing his touch, as he stared at you desperately. You knew that everything he said was true, and James was nothing if not an honest man. He made you smile, kept you safe, always thought of you as the prettiest girl in the room. You were in love with James Potter, but it wasn't as easy as that. You had to worry about your brother, Regulus, and the future of your family. While your parents were definitely not kind and nurturing, they were all you had. You didn't have James Potter to whisk you away if Sirius didn't allow him too. You wanted James, more than you'd ever want Charles and his prejudice. Your eyes watered, and you suddenly felt lost.

"I don't need to tell you twice all the ways he can't suffice, he wouldn't care about your happiness, or your dancing or your smile," James' unwavering hope warmed you, cocooning you in a safety net when you felt like you were falling from the Astronomy Tower. James wanted to be your new beginning, your second chance. He wanted to cuddle you on cold nights and to show you the beauty of the muggle world and all its secrets, "If I could give you some advice, baby, I'd leave with me tonight." His desperation slipped from his face, replaced with a confident smirk, as if he saw your facade melting, as if he could see you melting in his arms, as if he knew that you were going to choose him, just like you would every single time.

"You'll help me get through it?" you asked, and James immediately knew that you meant the sparking fall out between you and your parents, and the Nott family. James took your face in his hands, love shining in his eyes, before placing a chaste kiss on your forehead.

"I'd give you my heart if you asked, darling, of course I'll help. Besides, what's another Black sibling in my house? if your brother comes I'll have the full set." you shared a laugh, biting back the tears that threatened to spill.

"You'd like that." you said between laughs.

"I'd love it." he answered, leaning back and taking your hand in his once again. He led you back off the dance floor, both of you blushing madly and smiling merrily. Towards the left of the hall, you spotted James' friends watching you both intently, glasses raised. Lily Evans seemed particularly excited, emerald eyes aglow with excitement as she waved enthusiastically and gave James a thumbs up. Sirius and Regulus stood further away, small smiles on their faces as they watched their little sister walk out of the hall with the resident trouble maker. No complaints rose up their throats, just unbridled joy for their sister who finally looked happy. James and Y/n didn't look at anyone else as they left hand in hand, not even at a furious Charles Nott, hands balled in tight fists. They ignored the open mouthed stares and muttered remarks, completely absorbed in each other.

The next day, Charles would arrive at his dorm to an owl waiting by the open window. Tied to his leg was a envelope, and Charles reached for it immediately. Ripping it open, he tore the piece of paper out and dumped its contents on his bed. Gleaming back at his sneering face was the ring he gave Y/n when he proposed, and scribbled on the letter was one sentence:

'I suppose you were right Charles, I do have a taste for blood-traitors.’

- Y/n Black and James Potter

#james potter #james potter x reader #harry potter #hogwarts x reader #harry potter x reader #james potter imagine #regulus black twin!reader #mauraders #mauraders x reader

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justporo · 11 months

Text

At a point in time

It's a lazy, stormy night in Baldur's Gate. Astarion and you are just lying in bed cozily. Rain whips and taps against the windows. And wind howls around your cozy little home. Some lit candles throw softly shuddering gold-orange light and some shadows in your room.

Astarion is laying between your legs - his upper body is wrapped around yours, your legs are hooked around his hips and back comfortably. His head is on your chest. His eyes are closed -softly though. He's barely moving at all. You've even stopped talking a long while ago.

You lazily brush through his soft curls with one hand, tugging softly on single strands. Trying to detangle some knots. Carefully letting your fingertips press onto and caress the nape of his neck - right there where you can feel the tension in his spine.

Your other hand is holding his, idly playing with your joint fingers. Tugging on the end of his little finger. Letting your fingers scratch over the palm. Then locking fingers with his and squeezing affectionately.

Astarion feels your warmth. How it blissfully seeps into his own body. With one pointy ear pressed to your chest he can hear and feel your calm, slow heartbeat. The rhythm is steady and sure. He's breathing deeply - a habit he can't seem to shake. And he's come to enjoy the slow rise and fall and how it softly sways his body against yours.

And as he lays there with you, he can feel himself relax - even if just a little. The years of perpetual fight or flight being finally over. Finally, the hope of being able to let his guard down. Removing all the layers of defence that were needed for survival. And the opportunity to hopefully find himself again after the thick walls are torn down.

Some tension is finally dissolving after centuries of being as taut as a bow string. Ready to be set off at every given moment. Ready to cut, to hurt. But the strings loosen now, the arrow's being lowered. At least for this moment in time.

Astarion's shoulders drop, his jaw relaxes. He melts into the skin-on-skin contact, feels how it makes all his spikes he's put up to not let anyone get close, evaporate. He lies in your arms - that demand nothing of him - only provide him with comfort and much needed solace.

And he could just stay right in that moment forever until all of him had blissfully perished in this comfort. Your arms and body wrapped around him being his small piece of heaven.

The safe haven he's yearned an eternity for.

And the anchor, steady in place, he knows he can always come back to if needed should waves lead him astray.

Author's note: Wrote a drabble without that even being the intention, I only wanted to set a scene... Then my head wanted to be pretentious and flesh it out more... I actually wanted to work on longer stuff and I only did this while waiting for a parcel...

#astarion #baldur's gate 3 #astarion ancunin #fanfiction #astarion x tav #baldur's gate iii #bg3 spoilers #baldurs gate #astarion x mc #astarion x oc #astarion x reader #drabble #imagine #bg3 imagine #astarion headcanons

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