Can You Pleaseee Do A Story About Haaland Being Insecure About Something While Looking At Himself In

can you pleaseee do a story about haaland being insecure about something while looking at himself in the mirror and y/n enters the room and comforts him then they end up making out

i hv an exam tomorrow but this inspired me hope u like it <3

erling haaland x fem reader

it wasn’t like him to feel down at all. usually he felt full of power and confidence, he believed in himself and couldn’t care less about what others said about him. he was the strong, norwegian viking after all.

but today was different and you noticed it. he did poorly in the match and although city still won, he’s rating was low and his failed shots were posted all over the internet. you felt his sadness and disappointment, the way he walked out of the changing room, the way his usual bright smile faded away. he could take all the criticism about the way he played, he could take it when it was about his talent or the lack of it, but he couldn’t deal with criticism about his looks. you told him not to go on instagram, to not open comments but he couldn’t stop himself. he sat in the changing room for a good 30 minutes scrolling nonstop, every rude comment, every mean word about his face seeping into his mind. he suddenly felt small and uncomfortable in his own skin, and all he craved was your touch and kind words. you noticed immediately as he walked besides you on your way to the car, his fingers holding tightly onto yours, his golden hair laying on his shoulders, his eyes fixated on the floor. he needed soft touches and sweet words whispered into his ears, a hug and kisses all over his cheeks.

and you knew exactly how to make him feel better, how to make the sad pout disappear from his face.

- hey baby what about a bath when we get home? i got a new bathbomb yesterday, its strawberry and vanilla scented. - you look over at him in the car, his eyes are sad and his fingers viciously gripping the wheel but he seems to like your idea a lot, his face lighting up, his cheeks blushing.

you took baths together whenever either of you was feeling down, the bubbles, the relaxation of the warm water and the closeness of your bodies cheering you up instantly. so as soon as you get home you tell him to go and get out of his clothes and wait for a little in the bedroom while you start the bath and collect all the stuff you want to put into it. you eventually gather all of your things, and with the bathbombs and gels in your hand return to the bedroom. you find your boyfriend staring at himself in the mirror, theres a frustrated look spreading across his beautiful features, his eyebrows are furrowed. he looks like he might start crying and you feel your heart breaking by the sight. you walk up to him, hugging him from behind, your smaller frame disappearing into his. your fingers are running up and down on his torso, caressing his skin, drawing circles on his waist. your cheek is resting against his back, hes warm and he smells like him. like erling, like soap and grass and his lingering parfume. you want him to know how beautiful he is, how his touch lights your skin up, how his eyes mesmerize you, how it feels to call him yours.

- can we take the bath and then watch a dumb movie? im so tired, im sorry..- he asks, theres some shame in his voice as he stares at his reflection.

- of course baby, lets go, i think the water is already perfect.- you grab his hand as you guide him to the bathroom, holding him close and tight, wanting to show him how beautiful he truly is.

➛ DATING ERLING HAALAND

𖥻 WARNINGS ー [ none ] 𖥻 AUTHORS NOTE ー [ requested by anon "PLEASE haaland headcanons or a daring erling haaland imagine" your wish is my command hope you like it - also double update who dis ]

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the two of you met when you went to a dortmund game. you and your friends were shown on the big screen, and he was instantly hooked. after the game, he spent hours trying to find your socials. instagram, twitter, tiktok, snapchat anything that could tell him more about you. and when he found you, boy, was he happy. smiling like a complete idiot as he scrolled through your feed. and was basically kicking his feet and twirling his hair when he found out that you were single. so he followed you and started liking and commenting on your posts. safe to say you were stunned. a football player noticed you - well, that wasn't on your 2023 bingo card.soon after, he messaged you. which you were a bit apprehensive about since the stereotype that all footballers were fuck boys and assholes was ingrained in the back of your mind. but with a bit of persuasion, you agreed to go on a 'friendly' outing to a theme park. safe to say it was a massive success. you were the only two in the park (he rented it out for the two of you). so no long ques and privacy. you went on all the rides and ate as much as you want.

and he won you basically every available prize. with the final stop of the night being a photo booth. and with some last-minute confidence boost, you kiss him before the final photo is taken. that picture is now his wallpaper. after a couple more dates, you made it official. after that, it was full steam ahead. posting each other daily/hourly. cute tiktoks. and light pda. people couldn't get enough of you. especially the height difference. his jerseys looked like dresses on you. and his hoodies basically touched the floor. safe to say you looked super cute. midnight snack runs. and baking at 2am. cuddling while watching movies and playing in the snow. not to mention showering you with many gifts. you look at a dress. it's yours. you think those earrings are cute. here is one in every colour. like this makeup brand. here's one of every product they make. not only does erling love you, but so does his teammate. jude is basically your best friend 2 minutes into meeting each other. and Dortmund coaches love having you around, even if you distract Haaland a bit. all in all, a very happy and healthy relationship :)

“He’s My Person.”

Paring: Hugh Jackman x Actor F!Reader

Summary: You and your co-star Hugh Jackman are in the eye of the public. Your fans always loving the dynamic between the two of you. However no one knew if you would be anything more than friends, not even you.

- oneshot, Hugh Jackman M.List, Navigation — other works!

Warnings: None!

Taglist: Just ask to be added.

I walked past the camera set crew, and smiled when I saw Hugh sitting in one of the chairs. The Aussie immediately stood up, and gave me a hug.

Today was the first, of many interviews for the press tour of X-Men Origins Wolverine. I had been so lucky to get a part in this film, and I loved filming every second of it.

The lights dimmed a little, and focused on us and the cameras started to roll.

“Welcome, welcome you too.” I smiled at her and did a little wave to the camera. “First I would like to say congratulations on your achievement in making this film.”

“Thank you, that’s really sweet.” I could feel red lightly forming on my cheeks at the praise while Hugh — like the professional he is, take the compliment like a champ. “Thank you, much appreciated.”

“Now we have a bit of a game set up for us to do, but first some questions.”

Oh gosh, I could feel slightly nervous, but Hugh placed his palm on my knee and slightly rubbed it with his thumb. Calming my nerves.

“Now Hugh, you’ve done X-Men for quite some time now, but Y/N this is your first time in the Marvel franchise.”

Hugh squeezed my knee slightly, and gave me a proud smile while he rested his chin on his other hand.

“Yes well it’s such an honor.” I couldn’t help but feel a tiny nostalgic when I remembered how I started my career and where I’m at now. “I had done some small films before, but nothing like this. It was truly a one of a kind experience.”

I was expecting for another question, but Hugh spoke up as well. “Not to mention Y/N is such an amazing actor — and she’s always fun to work with. She’s a very good sport when things don’t go right the first time.”

I couldn’t help the laugh that sounded like a giggle leaving my lip, a smile brightening my face.

“Careful Hugh I might think you’re flirting with me.” I wouldn’t mind that, and this teasing, flirting thing we do is something we’ve always done since we first met each other.

“You two are adorable.” The interviewer — Annie — commented. “What was your favorite thing to film.”

Oh god, this is a trap. The movie hasn’t hit theaters, and there’s only so much we can say before it comes out.

I slapped my hand over Hugh’s, “kissing Hugh Jackman.” That little bit was in the trailer — so it’s the safest thing to say, if not the honest.

Hugh didn’t his cute little laugh, a snort breaking free, before he regained his composure.

“I won’t lie, I 100% messed that scene up so I could just kiss the wonderful Y/N again. So I’ll have to agree with her there.”

My face started to warm in embarrassment while I hid inside my hands, all while Hugh laughed — his hand never leaving my knee.

“Do either of you have a date to the premier? If yes, then do you mind saying?”

My response came so quick out of my mouth I didn’t have a moment to process what I was saying, though that’s how I am a lot of the time. “Hey, Hugh, wanna be my date?” 

Hugh looked at you, and despite his smile, and the humor in his voice — his eyes were laced in seriousness. “It would be the greatest honor of my life, to walk down that carpet on your arm like eye candy.”

I blew him a kiss, teasing him before looking right back at the camera. “I might look fine right now, but trust me girls I’m screaming on the inside.”

The whole camera crew started to laugh, while I silently laughed as well.

“In ten or words less describe each-other’s character.” I gestured for Hugh to go first to which he took a moment to think, using his fingers.

“Badass solider that always completes a mission no matter what.”

Fuck. Alright.

“A military solider that can’t die, infused with metal.” Fuck I need another word. “Handsome.”

“Aweeeee.” Hugh leaned over and kissed my cheek.

The sound of cheering was the only thing I could hear as I grabbed a hold of Hugh’s arm and made our way onto the carpet.

“God, what if I fall on my face?” I stopped just before my heel could meet with the carpet. Too nervous to go on.

“Y/N, you’re going to be okay. I won’t let you fall.” He laced his fingers with mine and walked us down the carpet, giving me the push I needed to get out of my own head.

The paparazzi photos started to flash immediately, blinding me but I had been used to this by now — so I just kept my focus.

Hugh leaned down to my ear, whispering a joke about how a photographer back would hurt tomorrow in that position, causing me to laugh.

The lights went crazy as he hugged laughed with me, “you look very beautiful tonight.”

“I might have to make you my date to every premier Mr. Jackman.”

We made our way to the first reporter of the night, sticking close together.

“Good evening.” She was a pretty decidedly young girl, and you could see how nervous she was. “Hi/G’day.” Me and Hugh responded.

“So you two are each other’s date, any special chemistry going on.” The Aussie wrapped his arm around my waist, pulling me closer to him, while I held his shoulder with my left arm. This position was suggestive, but it was teasing.

Unfortunately, to my disappointment we weren’t seeing each other.

“One day.”

One day.

You couldn’t help but give him a smile, and he returned it with the same exact emotion in his eyes. Care, and love.

Over the next few years, you and Logan had worked on a few projects together, but even if you weren’t, you and him always were close and kept in touch.

You would grab dinner together often, or sometimes when one of you were free and the other was busy on a set, it wasn’t strange that one of you would fly out to the other.

Everyone believed that one of you were together, especially after a video leaked of you and Logan slow dancing at a house party together.

But whenever asked about it, you two would always either say, “not yet,” or “one day.”

You were having a premier coming up, and it was the only time that there was a chance that Hugh couldn’t make it. So everyone was wondering if you would bring anyone else. It was well known you didn’t like going places without someone close to you.

You sat with one of your co-stars and smiled at the interviewer that was asking the question on everyone’s mind.

“Are you sure you and Hugh Jackman are not dating.” You couldn’t help but laugh at the phrasing of her words.

“Hugh Jackman? Never heard of him.” The crew and your Co-Star started laughing, but you did answer the question. “No we’re not dating.” It was the first time the two of you were direct with it, and not being vague.

Overtime you grew to love Hugh, and to be honest you didn’t know if you could keep telling yourself ‘one day.’ Because in your head you two weren’t only giving fans false hope, but you were giving it to yourself.

“Hugh is away filming, you always take him to events, since he won’t be here will you take someone else.”

You were quiet for a moment, thinking through your answer.

“To be honest, even if I wanted to take someone else I don’t think I could.” You looked down to your lap before continuing. “Hugh is such a major part of my life. Really he’s my pillar. He will always be the one a I take, and if I can’t take him then I wouldn’t go with anyone else.”

“It sounds like you deeply care for him. Are you sure there’s no feelings?” She didn’t ask if you were dating, but if you had feelings.

“Hugh Jackman is so many things. He’s a great dancer, actor, singer. Full of so many talents — and I always love the fact that I am apart of his life. Because most of all He’s my person.”

You finally looked back up to the interviewer.

“If something were to ever happen between us, then it would have already.”

Sure you fans would be sad, and even you, but it was time to finally put the rumors to rest.

You were a little quieter through the rest of the interview, but still kept it fun.

Hugh downed his drink. He was on a plane, flying back to you. He wore a tux so he could be on the ready to go so when he lands, he can confess, then they can make their way to the premier — where he can make it known to the world.

He was watching your interview, and when you put said that you two weren’t happening, he felt panic.

He cursed himself for waiting too long. But the truth was he felt like with his career going the way it was that maybe he wasn’t ready for a relationship. He was an idiot.

He felt terrible for leading you on so long, but he would make it right — and hope maybe you still liked him.

By the time he finally landed you had just walked onto the carpet, alone. So he paid the driver extra to just step on the gas.

Once he was let in — the crowd started going wild. He was on the carpet, and he didn’t stop to take photos, or talk to people.

He set his sights on you and immediately started to hurry to you. And ironically it was like something from a movie.

The cameras all the sudden started going crazy, and you looked to your right to see what was going on, but was met with a Hugh Jackman out of breath, and grabbing your face.

“Hugh? When did—“ You were cut off by his lips pressing into yours. His hands gently leaving your cheeks, and resting on your neck while he pulled you closer.

You parted just a little, so he could whisper his confession to you.

“You’re my person too. I’m sorry for being an idiot, but I’m an idiot in love with you.”

A smile took over your face, finally your one day was today. “Just kiss me again, you bloody fool.” You didn’t need to tell him twice — and the camera was absolutely going crazy.

The rest of the premier, Hugh had a few lipstick stains on his face that he didn’t even bother to wipe away.

He was took focus on the smile that was on your face, the same smile that matched his.

The next day Hugh found a photo of you two kissing, with Ryan Reynolds shocked, smiling face, he immediately posted it, letting your fans know that your finally got together with the caption, “my person.”

You two also made that your locks screen and every time either of you are asked about your friendship with Ryan, you immediately talk about it.

one of those things ────── aurélien isn't ready to let you go.

♡ ────── pairing : aurélien tchouaméni x reader ♡ ────── tags : reader's gender, ethnicity, nationality, and appearance is not specified, but they are described to be smaller than aurel. no smut but aurel is very touchy here... viewer's discretion is advised. kiiiiinda toxic idk they're exes and also drunk. aurel is sorta an asshole but idc he's so hot omfgggg sorry he is JEALOUS. important to mention that he's a bit forceful here but reader (& me) lowkey likes it... NOT proofread!!! it's a bit messy sorry ♡ ────── wordcount : 1,431 ♡ ────── notes : i am blushing as i write this. there is no plot to this, it's literally just banters. the stranger can be whoever you want but i am imagining trent from lfc omggg hes so fine. i GOTTA stop talking so much on the tags. not based on cowboy like my by taylor swift, but i was listening to it the whole time i was writing this ♡ masterlist.

“Stop looking at him.”

Aurélien has his lips hovering against the side of your neck, glowering at the general direction of the bar, like he was a wolf trying to protect his slaughtered prey.

“I’ll look at whoever I want,” you roll your eyes, hands gripping his arms—much bigger, much stronger—that are wrapped around your waist, trying to pry him off you. He has refused to let go of you ever since his drunken gaze spied you on the bar, biting your lips as you tug on the sleeve of a stranger of a man you’ve met only tonight.

You were flirting with him, because obviously you were.

It’s a club. It’s 1 A.M. And you are single.

Why wouldn’t you flirt with the next piece of hot ass you see?

“Come on,” Aurélien whispers, focusing all his hazy attention on you. “Should I go over and talk to him? S’that what you want? What do you think, baby?”

The fun banters were cut short when you felt an all too familiar farm wrapped around your waist, whisking you away.

And before you know it, you are settled on your ex’s lap, thirty feet away from the stranger on the bar, somewhere between his footballer friends, too busy with themselves and too accustomed with Aurélien’s antics to pay you any spare attention.

“I think,” you keep your eye contact with the man in the bar, fingers trying to slip between Aurélien’s hand, “you’re drunk. And stupid.”

“Drunk?” he chuckles, fully burying his face into your neck, an enticing feeling that you haven’t felt in a while, as he breathes in your scent. “Maybe.”

You shift on his lap, knees aching to get up, but he holds you down.

“But I’m not stupid, baby—”

“Don’t call me ‘baby’.”

“—don’t call me stupid.”

“Don’t call me ‘baby’,” you repeat, leaning away from his head, trying to push his face away from the tender skin of your neck. Ex-lovers definitely shouldn’t be all over each other like this. “We’re over, Aurélien. Remember?”

“Remember?” He chuckles, still keeping his chin on your shoulder despite your eagerness to get away. “Ouch.”

“Get used to it.”

You glance back at the bar as Aurélien’s fingers find their way to the hem of your shirt, ungodly intention laced in every stretch of his muscles before your shaky hand stops him, somewhat affected by the couple of shots the stranger had bought you too.

“Fine,” he murmurs, pouting, as though you will melt for that age-old trick. “I’ll apologise for calling you ‘baby’, and then we’ll go home and have some fun.”

You scrunch your nose at his offer, turn to glare at him, only to meet his lazy grin.

“I’m not—”

You breathe in a deep sigh, and you can feel his jaw clench.

“—If I’m going home with anyone tonight, it won’t be you.”

“Why not?” He whines, pulling you in even closer, if possible, and you bite your lips as your ass rubs against his crotch, the friction causing you to shut your eyes as the blood rushes away from your brain.

The night just gets more hazy.

And seeing you distracted, Aurélien steals the moment to continue his way under your shirt, his fingers digging deep into the side of your torso.

“Aurélien,” your murmur, your voice drawing out to a drawl. You almost forgot about the stranger in the bar—when you look back at him for a short second, he is holding a glass of shots against his lips, a smirk etched on his lips like he’s enjoying the show Aurélien is putting on for him.

Aurélien grits his teeth, grazing them against your neck when he notices that your attention is centred on the guy more than on him. “Answer me.”

You huff, gripping his wrist over your shirt. “Because we’re over. We broke up.”

An irritated sigh escapes his lips, somehow returning his lips on your neck, nipping softly on the skin. “You’re being stubborn.”

“I’m being stubborn?”

“Come on,” he pretends that he isn’t in denial. “I’ll take you home and I’ll fix whatever was wrong with us, yeah?”

His hand continues to knead on your flesh, lips moving up your neck, to your jaw, to nip on your earlobes. 

“That’s not,” your grip on his wrist tightened, “how it works.”

“Of course it is,” he whispers, pulling you back. “That’s exactly how it works. We’ll talk, just you and me, back at my place.”

You shake your head, one hand on the velvet couch beneath you two, to find leverage as your feet find the floor—a sad attempt of getting up. “I want nothing to do with you.”

“You sure about that?” His hand leaves your shirt, and finds itself gripping your thigh to pull you back down. He sounds inviting, and you almost fell for the alluring tone of his words. “Don’t make me prove you wrong.”

You slant your eyes. “Don’t be a dick.”

Aurélien laughs, seeming to enjoy riling you up, like he wants to see you break.

“Or what?” He cups the side of your hips, rocking you, his fingers drawing aimless patterns against the fabric of your jeans. “You gonna do something about it? Gonna punish me, baby?”

You grit your teeth, drawing in a sharp breath, a hot sensation stirring in your chest—a mixture of exhilaration, and annoyance, and interest, and anger.

You can backtrack. You can forget about your break up, and go home with him, and let the alcohol take over the night. But your ego is higher than whatever pedestal Aurélien has decided to put you on.

And you? Well, you are just not the type of person to get back together after a break up.

It’s pathetic. It’s embarrassing.

Aurélien tilts his head at the way your bottom lip juts and pouts as you rake your brain for some sort of response. He can’t help pushing you over the edge—that feeling of dominance over your feeble resolve, having you on his lap, small and bothered; he loves it.

And he loves you. He is pretty sure that he does. And he’s pretty sure that you would come running back to him if he just pushes the right button.

“Cat got your tongue, huh?” He kisses your cheek, and you don’t miss the way his eyes dart towards the bar for a second. “I’m tryna talk to you, baby. I can’t have you go home with ‘nother man, now can I?”

“Fuck,” you jolt when you feel him dig even further into your hip, “I’m fuckin’ sick of you, Aurélien.”

He chuckles. “Say it again.”

You scoff, throwing your gaze away, trying to distract yourself with the arbitrary coloured lights on the dancefloor. “You got a sick kink?”

“I do,” Aurélien laughs, fond of the way you are feisty, of the way you hold back out of pride. “Only for you, though.”

It’s what he likes about you, he guesses, you keep it interesting for him. 

“Say you want me back,” he coaxes, his breath hot against your neck, lips just inches away from the one spot he had been lapping on all night. He would love to see you tomorrow morning—he just knows that his bite marks will develop into pretty bruises tomorrow, and the thought latches his teeth on the skin above your collarbone. “I know you want me, baby.”

“You’re dreaming,” you sneer, though it leaves your mouth more like a whine. He raises an eyebrow. “M’gonna say this—last time I’ll ever say it. We broke up.”

Aurélien groans, shutting his eyes, annoyed. “You’re so difficult.”

His large palm rubs against you, returning once more to the warm skin under your shirt, nails lightly scratching on it.

“You’re not protesting against me, though,” he points out. “You still love me, dontcha?”

You bite your lips, and it takes two seconds too long to answer him. “No.”

The way you whine, the way you shift—deliberately or not—on his lap. Aurélien murmurs, “You’re a shitty liar.”

“Fuck off.”

“Ohh, that’s not the language that a pretty baby should use,” his drunken slurs scold. You feel annoyed—and helpless—just listening to him. “Shouldn’t you mind your manners, considering you’re sitting on my lap?”

“Well,” you swallow, turning to look back at him. “Maybe you should consider letting me go.”

“And let you go back to him?” Aurélien shoots another murderous look at the bar. “No. Besides, I’m not done with you.”

You sigh, biting your lips, and a small smirk sprouts on his lips. You’re in for a long, long night.

Ky when Judy hits him up w Brummie accent

aftercare with our boy haaland

❝ 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐝𝐨𝐰𝐧 ❞

.ೃ 𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬 ! 𝐰𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐭𝐨 𝐞𝐱𝐩𝐞𝐜𝐭 𝐢𝐧 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐭 𝐧 𝐚𝐟𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐜𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐰 𝐮𝐫 𝐛𝐨𝐲𝐟𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝 𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠 ✰ ´ˎ˗

⋆ ｡ ˚ ⋆ 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 ⌇ 𝐟𝐞𝐦 𝐝𝐞𝐩𝐢𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫. 𝐬𝐮𝐛𝐭𝐥𝐲 𝐢𝐧𝐟𝐞𝐫𝐫𝐞𝐝 𝐧𝐬𝐟𝐰 𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐬 ੈ✩‧₊˚

˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆ 𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 ⌇ 𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐡𝐚𝐚𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐱 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 ✧˚ ༘ ⋆｡♡˚

ೄྀ࿐ 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 ⌇ 𝟎.𝟔𝐤 !

↳ 𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞 ೃ⁀➷ 𝐢 𝐧𝐞𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐨 𝐡𝐮𝐫𝐫𝐲 𝐮𝐩 𝐰𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐬𝐞 𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐬 𝐟𝐫. 𝐠𝐨𝐭 𝐚 𝐛𝐢𝐭 𝐬𝐭𝐮𝐜𝐤 𝐰𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐧 𝐝𝐢𝐝𝐧'𝐭 𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐦𝐚𝐧𝐲 𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐚𝐬 𝐬𝐨 𝐢𝐭 𝐭𝐨𝐨𝐤 𝐚𝐠𝐞𝐬 𝐭𝐨 𝐰𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐞. 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐤 𝐮 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐚𝐬 𝐚𝐥𝐰𝐚𝐲𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐲𝐰𝐚𝐲. 𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡 𝐢𝐭 𝐦𝐚𝐲 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐥𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐮𝐩 𝐭𝐨 𝐞𝐱𝐩𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧. 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞, 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭, 𝐧 𝐫𝐞𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐠 𝐜𝐚𝐮𝐬𝐞 𝐢𝐭 𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐡𝐞𝐥𝐩𝐬 !

Erling rolled over in bed. Both of you recovering from your highs and gasping for breath, muttering phrases of endearment into the air towards each other. “So good f’me,” he praised, breath uneven. He blinked over at you, cheek pressed into the pillow as he shifted himself over to look at you and the fall and rise of your chest with a coy grin. “You okay?” he rasped.

You glanced over at him, the corners of your lips turned up in a lazy downturned smile. “Mhm.” He leaned in to kiss your forehead gently, then withdrew and clambered out of the bed; looking over his shoulder momentarily to cast a last glimpse of you. Hair tousled and splayed over the duvet haphazardly, cheeks flushed and marked by his touch. “Where you goin’?” you tilted your head at him, cocking it to the side. 

He chuckled, tongue-in-cheek, his back turned to you as he called out, “I’ll be back in a minute, elskling,” from down the corridor. You sighed, scratching the back of your neck and pulling the duvet further over yourself, the sun painting a line of orange sunlight into the room. You faintly heard the sound of running water carrying itself through the walls, the sound of Erling’s hummed tunes accompanying it. He returned a moment later, hovering by the doorway, blue eyes skimming across your form. A smirk tugged at his lips as you looked up and over at him. “You’re so beautiful,” he commented offhandedly, pushing off from the doorframe and padding towards you in bed.

“Thank you,” you replied, a cheeky smile adorning your features. Erling leaned down slightly, pecking you on the lips whilst his calloused hand found its way to your hip, gently starving shapes into your skin. “Jus’ running you a bath, ‘kay?” he mentioned, and you nodded. “Thank you, again.” He grinned back, shoving your face playfully whilst clambering back into bed next to you. He swiftly settled himself flush against you, peppering kisses against the side of your neck and profile that he could reach.

You rolled your eyes jokingly and giggled at him, turning around so you were both face to face. “Love you,” you breathed. “Love you too,” he repeated, as if it was a prayer between you two. “How’re you feeling?” he asked eventually, staring attentively at your features. “Not too sore?” you shook your head with a light scoff. “All fine.” He nodded, both of you softly smiling at each other, as if afraid if you looked away the other would simply disappear. He traced your features with his eyes, then made a noise of contentment; snaking an arm around your exposed waist and nuzzling his face into your shoulder. 

You let out a small downturned smile. “What?” he laughed quietly. “Nothin’,” you retorted, eyes trained on his, arms reaching out to drape over his chest and behind his head. “Your bath will be ready soon,” he mumbled, eyes flickering closed. You nodded and made a noise of acknowledgment, gently running your nails through his hair; as you silently breathed together in the comfort of your bed, only broken up by the hum of running water down the corridor.

“Erl,” you whispered after some time. He lifted his head groggily at you, cocking his head to the side. “Can you check if the bath’s ready or if it’s flooded?” he chuckled softly, withdrawing himself from your touch, before plodding along to the bathroom and turning the tap off. “All ready,” he called out, dipping a finger in to test the temperature of the milky foam as you walked in. “Want me to join you?” he joked as he was drying his hand on a towel, cocky grin plastered over his face. You gave him an equally unimpressed glare, swatting him out of the bathroom before dipping yourself into its warmth.

୨୧ @𝐥𝐞𝐭𝐦𝐞𝐚𝐩𝐨𝐥𝐨𝐠𝐢𝐬𝐞. 𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐬 𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐯𝐞𝐝. 𝐝𝐨 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐠𝐢𝐚𝐫𝐢𝐬𝐞, 𝐫𝐞𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐭, 𝐨𝐫 𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐬𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐞 ୨୧