#you all so nice and aaaaaaaaa makes me happy and wanna continue posting more n more

[daily-haunted-tv]

i think this blog has won tumblr.com

it's too perfect

Thank you! Glad you also like the silly lil mon 😊❤️

[mirrorforevers]

graham/reader • and i love him

hmmmmmm so

i wrote a lil smutty n angsty gra/fem!reader fic set in the late 90s and im kinda proud of it ‼️

👉🏼 👈🏼 

this is my first work for the blur fandom and im Nervous bc i haven’t been writing for a while and english is not my first language but hope u guys enjoy it anyway - if you enjoy it enough i’ll post it on ao3 too, aight? also this hasn’t been beta’ed by anyone so yeah. also feel free to send me a message if u want to beta it in case you wanna see it there. aaaaaaaaa

tw: alcoholism

You haven't been sleeping very well these days.

Any noise, no matter how insignificant, would wake you up. When there weren't noises, there were nightmares that you were losing him - those were the worst nights. Many times you woke up crying because everything was so real, and you couldn't have peace even in your moment of rest.

Sometimes it was difficult to love him.

The memories of the long lazy days you spent watching TV, painting each other's backs and tasting all sorts of bizarre treats he brought from the different countries he travelled to with his band were gradually replaced by memories of corrosive words exchanged between the two of you and moments where either you or he ended up crying in each other's arms - out of shame, out of despair, out of frustration. But that didn't mean that you were loving him any less, just that your individual tribulations sometimes got too heavy even to share.

You knew he was going through a very difficult time, but he didn't open up to you very much about it and it frustrated you on a level that you could barely describe. Being in a serious relationship was something so new to you, and it helped you so much in your bad times, and you just couldn't understand why he didn't trust you like you trusted him. "It's not that I don't trust you, you're the most important person in the world to me," he'd typically say. "It's such a terrible feeling, and I just want it to go away. I don't even like to talk about it."

This is the same thing he says to you with teary eyes as the hot water in the shower wets your skin and his. For the third time that week, you had to help him, without even having the opportunity to take your own clothes off, to take off his clothes that smelled unbearably of alcohol and sweat and to take a shower. You no longer had the strength to argue or lecture him, and your silence of resignation somehow seemed to hurt him even more. He tried to bring up other subjects and remind you of good things, and your throat seemed to close more and more. Before your eyes could also fill with tears, you just left a small, shaky "Gra, please... let's just get this over with." escape from your lips. He got the message, maybe. And he agreed to have his hair washed in silence.

After you help him dry off and choose clean underwear, sleep got the best of him and then it was your turn to take a shower and try to sleep. You swore he was asleep a long time ago, when, just before you fell asleep, you heard an almost whispered, fragile "I love you" coming from the other side of the bed. It somehow hurt you more than it should - it's been so long since you've wanted to hear it from the man you truly know - a sober Graham, a little unsure of himself but a guy with such a full and gentle heart. You knew that his problem with drinking was not just the search for overcoming that insecurity, but a constant attempt to escape from the reality that, years before, he thought he wanted to be part of. And as for that, there was not much for you to do. But you still missed it so much in another context, in what now seems to be an eternity ago.

By some miracle, you did not wake up in the middle of the night due to some noise caused by Graham or due to some nightmare, but only in the morning thanks to the sunlight illuminating your face. But Graham was no longer on your side, and you closed your eyes, sighing. Another long day without him among thousands of rehearsals and concerts and meetings and photoshoots he had to attend, which anticipated yet another long night of ill-resolved fights.

"I'm terribly sorry for fucking up again." And then you opened your eyes. There he was, now with a shirt over the underwear you chose for him, his voice as low as ever. Without his glasses.

Finally, the Graham you knew. Your eyes light up and you move to get up from the comfortable bed you shared when he interrupts you. "No, stay right there."

"I've been missing you." You say with an almost whiny voice, a faint but genuine smile taking over your expressions. "Don't you have *anything* to do today?" You ask, as he pulls out a camera to photograph you in your current position - messy hair, while wearing only his t-shirt. You don't hide from the clicks. After being satisfied with the result, he positions himself between your legs, and you spend a few minutes in silence in that position, face to face, just reading each other's expressions so closely.

It was very difficult not to love the beautiful boy in front of you.

"I do." And with that, he places a very soft and loving kiss on your lips, which slowly incorporates the latent desire burning on both of you. It's so good not to taste the alcohol, just the mouthwash with the touch of a cigarette that he just smoked. He only stops after a few more long pecks, calmly brushing away some of the strands of hair off your face, "I'm sorry for being such a cunt. Things are being very difficult for me lately."

You look away from him so you don't cry. This subject really breaks your heart. "Things are very difficult for me too."

He calmly brings your face up to look at him again. "They don't have to be. I don't want to make you go through this. I swear I will try to get help."

This is not the first time he has said this. But you pretend to believe him. And this time, you start the kiss, a little more fervently than before. Perhaps this is a silent agreement between you two. You feel something slowly grow beneath you, and you move against the feeling, making you both gasp softly in the middle of the kiss. The lips part, and then he looks into your eyes deeply again, both foreheads touching - as he silently asks you for permission to make it up to you. You just nod between heavy shared breaths. He goes to kiss you intensely, albeit very lovingly, while slowly lowering his hand to your clit, where he begins a slow circular movement. You close your eyes, and he pleads, quietly – “Keep looking at me, love”.

Gradually, you start to grind harder against his talented fingers, and when he realizes that your body is prepared enough (and quickly expresses it to you - "fuck, you really missed me", making your cheeks burn), he inserts two fingers into you, while insisting on the circular movements that delighted you so much. You're having goosebumps and you slowly feel that delicious wave of heat build up in you as he continues with his movements. You surprise him by kissing his neck slowly between timid but sincere moans that gradually escape from you. His voice trembles with arousal. "This is all about you, love. But that's quite nice." When he feels your body stiffen, and hears your moans become more urgent, he stops his movements and gives you a kiss on the cheek that borders on mockery, giving a small laugh with your grunt of protest. He mutters a small "Be patient baby, please. Come on my mouth instead.". Graham's hoarse voice in your ear almost kills you. He raises the hand that was stimulating you in an absurd way seconds before to lift and remove your shirt, basking in the sight of your breasts - hands sliding down your sides, he lifts your chest to his mouth, which makes you happy but it does not meet 100% of your needs. He knows that. And he wants to take his sweet time while his talented tongue takes turns between each of your breasts for a while, eliciting smaller moans from you but still giving you so much pleasure.

Honestly, what a view. His big brown eyes, when not closed due to his determination and focus on making you feel good, sometimes fixes on yours and the cloud of attraction between you two almost becomes tangible. Then, he quickly lifts up to give your mouth a sensuous kiss while his hand then makes its way down your body, taking a detour at your already sensible breasts to grab one and give it a slow squeeze. "You're so fucking beautiful. I love you." His pure adoration for you drips from his voice, and you feel like you're about to burst from how much in love and horny you are.

"I love you too."

He gives you that goddamn smile that melts you every time before he lowers himself again, this time placing his head between your thighs while snaking his arms above them, trapping you in what is about to be a hell of a great time. He begins on an exploratory pace, then gradually starts eating you out with passion, though not forgetting to be gentle enough so he doesn't hurt you or seems inexperienced. That he *really* isn't.

He moans deliciously on your clit the moment your grip on his hair tightens - he loves it when you're rougher with him, a sub at heart, really, though he's undoubtedly getting better at dealing with your more submissive side lately. Your body is reacting in the prettiest ways, and he recognizes it's the time for his fingers to be inside of you again. You have to contain yourself not to wake up your neighbors with the sound of your excitement, and you bite your finger. You can't help but buck your hips in response to the stimulation. “Gra–God. I--I need to--”

“Keep still, darling. I know what you need,” His eyes are gleaming with mischief when one of his hands moves to rest on your waist so he can hold you in place. It's too much, and when he hears your quiet pleas and sees your back arching and the frozen expression of pure pleasure in your face, he intensifies his movements and you freeze - your legs twitch and he lets you ride your orgasm freely on his gorgeous, hungry mouth.

You looked down to see his chin was resting on your stomach as he gazed up at you with *that* infatuated look that suited him so well along with the cheekiest smile - he keeps his thoughts to himself before his suggestion makes your satisfied smile grow even wider: "Let's spend the day together. I still feel like I owe a lot to you.".