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xhoess · 3 months ago

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Falling for the Star

Nicholas Alexander Chavez x reader

Summary: You meet actor Nicholas Alexander Chavez at a gala, sparking an intense romance. As passion builds, you navigate the challenges of his fame, facing public scrutiny and personal doubts. Through steamy moments and emotional struggles, you both fight for a love that’s worth the spotlight.

Wc: 10.7 K

Smut, fluff, drammaaaaaa

The moon hung low in the Los Angeles sky, a silver crescent illuminating the sprawling city below. The air buzzed with excitement and anticipation as you cautiously approached the entrance of the exclusive charity gala at a luxurious rooftop venue. The invitation had arrived with bright golden lettering, but in truth, you had almost turned it down. The mere thought of mingling with celebrities, the glitterati, and Hollywood’s elite had been overwhelming. Nevertheless, a gentle push from a close friend, coupled with a curiosity that ignited within you, led you to this moment.

As you stepped through the large glass doors, the atmosphere enveloped you like a warm embrace. The soft notes of a live jazz band floated through the air, a blend of elegance and vibrancy. Lush greenery adorned the venue, with fairy lights twinkling like stars overhead, and champagne glasses clinking gently as laughter erupted around you. You took a moment to appreciate your reflection in the mirrored walls, wearing a stunning emerald green dress that hugged your figure perfectly. It cascaded to just above your knees, with delicate lace details accentuating your collarbone, making you feel both empowered and graceful.

You scanned the room, your heart racing, when your eyes caught sight of him — Nicholas Alexander Chavez. He was standing across the room, effortlessly charming, with an easy smile that lit up the dimly lit space. His attire was flawless, a tailored navy suit that complemented his physique, making him look like he had stepped right off a magazine cover. His dark curls framed his face, and the spark in his eye held an undeniable allure. You felt an involuntary blush creep up your cheeks as your gaze lingered, making you acutely aware of how stunning he truly was.

Just as you thought you might have imagined the connection, Nicholas glanced in your direction. His gaze met yours, and an electric thrill surged through you, igniting a pulse of energy that felt both thrilling and terrifying. You quickly averted your eyes, pretending to study a nearby artwork, though you could feel his stare still lingering.

With a deep breath to steady your nerves, you decided to get a drink from the bar, hoping to calm the fluttering in your stomach. The bar was swarming with well-dressed attendees, all lost in their own animated conversations. You ordered a glass of sparkling wine, and just as you turned to survey the party, you bumped into a broad shoulder.

“Whoa there,” came a deep voice, smooth as velvet.

You looked up, instantly recognizing the familiar face. Nicholas was standing right in front of you, a playful grin on his lips that made your heart skip a beat. “Looks like you’ve fallen for me already,” he teased, his eyes twinkling with mischief.

You tried to keep your composure, laughing nervously as you brushed your hair back. “Well, I might be a clumsy drinker,” you shot back, a lightness in your tone that surprised even you.

“The drinks aren’t the only thing that sparkles here,” he replied, his gaze simmering with an intensity that made your cheeks flush. “I’m Nicholas, by the way.”

“Y/N,” you replied, your voice steadier than you felt.

“Nice to meet you, Y/N,” he said, leaning closer, the warmth of his presence enveloping you. “What brings you to this shindig? I’m sure you could have found somewhere more exciting to spend your evening.”

You chuckled, feeling more at ease. “Believe it or not, I was contemplating staying home and binge-watching my favorite series. But the charity cause pulled me in—along with the chance to dress up a little, I suppose.”

Nicholas raised an eyebrow, curiosity piqued. “And what’s your favorite show?”

Do you really want to know? It’s quite embarrassing,” you replied, a sheepish grin spreading across your face.

“Embarrassing? Nah, I want to hear it,” he insisted, his playful demeanor captivating you further.

The conversation flowed easily from there, a delightful exchange filled with laughter and banter. It was clear that he was down-to-earth, someone who didn’t take himself too seriously despite his rising stardom. He listened intently, leaning against the bar with relaxed confidence that made you feel at ease.

As the night progressed, you found yourselves inching closer, the chemistry undeniable. With every stolen glance and shared laughter, the space between you seemed to shrink. Everything else faded away. Just as you felt the urge to lean in, the crowded bar suddenly erupted into laughter, startling you back to reality.

Nicholas chuckled, his gaze holding yours captive. “Looks like we’re commandeered. How about I steal you away for a moment before we get swallowed by the masses?”

“Lead the way,” you said, your heart racing as he gestured toward a quieter section of the venue.

Working through the sea of guests, you found a reprieve on a balcony that overlooked the stunning LA skyline. The city lights glimmered like a cascade of stars, and for a moment, it felt as if you were both the only two people in the world. The evening breeze danced around you, carrying the sweet scent of blooming jasmine from nearby plants.

Nicholas leaned against the railing beside you, a soft smile playing on his lips. "You know," he said softly, the music from inside blending into the background, "I’m glad you came tonight. You have this energy about you, something refreshing."

our heart fluttered at his words, the sincerity in his tone leaving a weight on your chest. “And I’m glad I bumped into you. I didn’t expect to meet someone like you tonight.”

Just then, the moment felt charged, his gaze intent as he held you captive. You could sense the potential for something deeper, something more than just a fleeting encounter at a glamorous gala. But before you could react, a friend called out for Nicholas, interrupting the silence that had built around the two of you.

With a reluctant smile, he turned back to you. “I have to go, but I hope we can pick up where we left off.”

Me too,” you replied, biting your lip, hoping it spoke volumes about what you felt.

He flashed that dazzling smile again. “Here’s my number. Call me. Let’s not let the night end like this, okay?”

You took the slip of paper, your fingers brushing against his as you felt a shiver of delight at the contact. “I definitely will,” you promised, watching as he faded back into the crowd, leaving you breathless and craving more.

The gala had been a whirlwind of elegance, laughter, and glittering lights. You had spent the evening swirling through rooms filled with celebrities, each moment feeling like a scene from a movie. But the real magic began when Nicholas Alexander Chavez approached you during the afterparty, his charming smile effortlessly stealing your breath away. Now, you found yourself on the rooftop of a trendy Los Angeles venue, the city sparkling below as the cool night air wrapped around you.

Nicholas's deep voice carried a playful tone as he arched a brow, “So, did you come here to dazzle everyone with your beauty, or is there a hidden talent I should know about?”

You chuckled, leaning back against the railing, your fingers brushing his casually. “Dazzling was the aim, but I didn’t expect to run into anyone like you tonight.”

The atmosphere was charged; the intimacy of the rooftop—complete with twinkling fairy lights strung overhead—set the perfect backdrop for your budding connection. Below, L.A. hummed with life, yet up here it was just you and him, everything else fading away.

“Tell me more. What’s it like being a dazzling star in your own right?” he asked, running a hand through his dark hair, drawing your attention to the way the moonlight caught the angles of his jaw.

What can I say? I’m just a regular person who got lucky,” you replied, trying to infuse some levity into the conversation even though your heart raced in his presence. “By day, I’m probably just a boring desk jockey, but at night…” you trailed off teasingly, “I become the queen of charity events.”

His laugh was warm, infectious. “A queen, huh? I’ve always wanted to meet royalty.” He leaned in closer, the scent of his cologne—a mix of cedarwood and something distinctly him—invading your senses. Living in a dream, you felt that maybe, just maybe, it wouldn’t break.

“I’m not sure how much royalty I am,” you said, feeling daring. “But I do know how to throw a fantastic ball.”

“Care to demonstrate sometime?" he winked, but then his smile softened. “I think it’s important for people to see beyond the lights and glitz. That’s what I try to show in my work too. There’s more to me than what’s at surface level.”

You considered his words, your gaze locked on the sincerity reflected in his eyes. “What do you want them to see?”

Nicholas ran a hand along the back of his neck, a habit you found endearing as he looked for the right words. “That I’m just… well, I’m just trying to figure it all out like everyone else. Being in the spotlight can make things so complicated.”

I can only imagine,” you murmured, absorbing the weight of his confession. It felt nice to know he shared this vulnerability, drawing you closer to him. The edges of the conversation had shifted, moving from playful banter to something deeper.

As he spoke, his hand brushed against yours, sending a jolt of electricity through you. Time slowed as you both lingered over the lightest of touches, an entire world of unspoken words swirling around you.

Do you think the stars are what they seem?” he mused, his voice lowering as he locked eyes with you. “Or just another layer of a persona?”

Sometimes they seem so perfect,” you replied, barely above a whisper. “But underneath, they’re human too.”

Nicholas smiled, and in that moment, the air felt thick with expectation. He leaned closer, and you could almost taste the warmth radiating between you. The moment elongated, both of you dancing around your desire, a symphony of unfulfilled tension hovering just inches apart.

Then, the serene bubble popped with a shout from below; a group of fellow gala attendees had spilled onto the rooftop, laughter spilling and echoing into the night. The connection between you and Nicholas fractured. He stepped back, breaking the moment like glass shattering on concrete.

“Maybe we should join the party,” he suggested, though you could hear the hint of disappointment in his tone.

“Yeah, let’s not keep the others waiting,” you said, your own heart sinking at the missed opportunity.

But as you both made your way back downstairs, the chemistry lingered electric in the air, weaving around you like a warm embrace. Nicholas walked close; he brushed against you, and goosebumps raced down your arms. You caught fleeting whispers from the crowd as you rejoined—words of admiration and intrigue—as if the guests could sense the bubble of tension that encapsulated you both.

Each glance exchanged with Nicholas sparked further anticipation. You could feel his gaze on you, a warmth that made your cheeks flush. As the evening progressed, small moments of contact sent your heart racing. The lightest brush of his fingers on your back as you maneuvered through the crowd made your breath hitch.

Finally, the night reached its peak, and you found yourself standing at the edge of the rooftop once more, feeling slightly more at ease and anxious all at once. “Thank you for tonight; it was… amazing,” you said, leaning against the railing.

Nicholas turned to you, a soft smile curving his lips. “I had a great time too. But I have a feeling this is just the beginning, isn’t it?”

His voice held a promise that sent butterflies dancing in your stomach. “I hope so,” you replied, allowing a shy smile to break through your facade.

“I’d like to take you on a proper adventure,” he said, a hint of mischief in his eyes. “How about we escalate this?”

“Esclare? I’m intrigued.” You crossed your arms, wanting to feign nonchalance but failing miserably.

Tomorrow. Just you, me, and no distractions,” he proposed, excitement bubbling within you at the thought. This was more than just flirting; you could sense things moving to another level.

You could hardly find the words. “I’d like that.”

With a grin that lit up his face, he nodded. The tension hanging in the air was undeniable, and you felt it wrap around you like a heavy blanket woven from the threads of your growing connection. As he leaned close, just hovering as if weighing the options, the world faded into nothingness.

And just then, in that brief moment, everything felt just right. Because in this vast city of stars, you had found one that was distinctly Nicholas, and you were ready to explore wherever the night—or your blossoming relationship—might lead you next.

The sun dipped low in the sky, casting a warm, golden hue across your room as you stood in front of the mirror, scrutinizing your reflection. Tonight was more than just another evening. This was a date. A date with Nicholas Alexander Chavez, the charming actor who had stolen your attention—and heart—at the charity gala just days ago. You felt a delicious blend of nerves and excitement bubbling within you, urging you to make the right choice. After rummaging through your closet, you finally settled on a sleek, midnight blue dress. It hugged your curves just right, striking a perfect balance between elegant and alluring. The fabric shimmered slightly under the light, mirroring the glint of anticipation in your eyes.

As you finished your look with a swipe of lipstick and a hint of perfume, you couldn’t help but smile at the thought of what was to come. Nicholas was not only stunningly handsome but also had a down-to-earth charm that made your heart race. You picked up your phone, your fingers trembling as you checked the time. You were supposed to meet him at a secluded restaurant hidden away from the prying eyes of the paparazzi, a secret oasis in the bustling city.

The short drive to the restaurant was a whirlwind of thoughts racing through your mind. What would you talk about? Would he lean in closer like he did at the gala? Would you have chemistry over dinner? The mere thought made your heart flutter, and you could feel a blush creeping onto your cheeks.

The restaurant was everything you could have imagined and more. Nestled on a quiet street, adorned with twinkling lights and soft music, it had an intimate atmosphere that instantly set your nerves at ease. As you walked in, you spotted Nicholas seated at a small table in the corner, his dark hair tousled just right, wearing a casual yet stylish outfit that emphasized his toned physique. He looked up and met your gaze, his smile lighting up the space around him, and suddenly, all the anxious thoughts melted away.

“Hey, you look incredible,” he said, standing to pull out the chair for you.

“Thank you! You’re not so bad yourself,” you replied, your voice playful, but your heart raced at the closeness of him.

As you settled into your seat, the conversation flowed effortlessly. You spoke about the gala, sharing laughs over the awkwardness of celebrity encounters, and Nicholas shared funny behind-the-scenes stories from the show. There was an undeniable chemistry, a palpable tension that lingered in the air between you. You couldn’t help but lean in a little closer, wanting to soak in every detail of his expressions and the slight huskiness of his voice when he laughed.

The waiter appeared, taking your orders, but your focus remained on Nicholas, who effortlessly carried the conversation. He spoke of his childhood dreams, his journey into acting, and his love for the craft. “I never thought I’d end up here,” he admitted, his eyes twinkling with a mix of pride and humility. “It’s surreal, to say the least.”

“I can’t imagine how challenging it must be,” you said, genuinely admiring his dedication. “But I’m glad you’re here. You’re incredibly talented.”

The way his eyes softened at your words made your heart skip a beat. “I appreciate that. It means a lot coming from someone like you,” he replied, his gaze lingering on you, making the room seem smaller, just the two of you in your own world.

As dinner progressed, the food became secondary to the moments that were passing between you—slight touches when handing over his plate, the warmth of his gaze locking onto yours. Each shared smile felt like a silent promise, and you found yourself leaning in as if drawn by an invisible string. There was an undercurrent of desire, thick and tangible, yet neither of you was willing to break the spell just yet.

After the main course, you shared a decadent dessert—a rich chocolate lava cake—playfully feeding each other bites as laughter echoed softly around you. The sweet treat punctuated the sweetness blooming between you. The laughter faded into a comfortable silence, and in that moment, the world outside ceased to exist.

Nicholas studied you, his expression serious yet softening the longer he watched. “Can I ask you something?” he said, his tone turning unexpectedly sincere.

“Of course,” you replied, your throat dry with anticipation.

He leaned in, his voice dropping to a near whisper. “What do you want in life? Beyond what you do, beyond this moment?”

Your heart raced as you stared into his deep brown eyes, sensing the authenticity of his question. “I want to experience life fully. I crave adventure, connection, and authenticity—like what I feel right now.” You held his gaze, feeling exposed yet free.

“And do you feel that with me?” he asked, a slight smirk playing on his lips.

You bit your lip, nodding slightly. The air thickened with unspoken words, and as you opened your mouth to respond, your heart pounded in anticipation of his next move.

Just then, the waiter returned with the check, ruining the moment as you both leaned back, the tension momentarily shattered. After settling the bill, you found yourselves back on the sidewalk, the crisp night air washing over you as you walked under the stars.

Nicholas slowed his pace, walking closely beside you, the hum of the city fading into the background. As you approached your doorstep, the atmosphere became charged with unspoken possibilities. He turned to you, his gaze deep and sincere. “I had an amazing time tonight,” he said, the corner of his mouth lifting into that smile that made your heart flutter.

“Me too,” you replied, trying to contain your excitement.

With the height of tension building, he stepped closer, your body instinctively responding to his proximity. His hand brushed against your arm, sending tingles through your skin. Time seemed to freeze, and you both leaned in, breaths mingling, hearts racing.

But then, a car passed by, its headlights illuminating the moment, reminding you both of the world outside. He didn’t pull away, but rather hesitated, drawn to you yet respecting the moment. “Can I…?” he began, stepping even closer, leaning in as though daring to close the distance between your lips.

“Please…” you whispered, your heart hammering against your chest, wanting nothing more than to feel the warmth of his kiss.

But then, he pulled back slightly, a teasing glint in his eyes. “I think I’ll save that for next time,” he said with a smirk, leaving you both breathless and wanting more, the promise of what was to come hanging in the air like the sweetest poison.

As you both stood there, the connection cemented, deepened yet oh-so tantalizingly just out of reach. You knew that this was only the beginning of a whirlwind romance that neither of you could resist.

The days after your last date with Nicholas were an intoxicating mix of anxious anticipation and exhilarating daydreams. He had called you the very next day, his voice smooth and inviting, as if the warmth of the previous night had never really faded. You felt the thrill of those moments linger in your veins, and every text he sent only stoked the flames of your imagination. It was with a flutter of nervous excitement that you prepared for this evening—a dinner at his cozy apartment.

Standing in front of your mirror, you ran a hand through your hair, taking in the reflection of your carefully chosen outfit. You had settled on a flowy, olive-green dress that hugged your curves just enough to leave an impression while still retaining an air of elegance. The fabric floated around your legs as you moved, and you decided on a pair of simple yet chic heels that accentuated the subtle tone in your skin. A touch of makeup polished your look, enhancing your features without overshadowing your natural beauty.

As you stepped out of your apartment, the evening sun cast a golden glow over the city. It seemed to mirror the excitement building within you for tonight. Each heartbeat was a reminder of what might lay ahead—a chance to get to know Nicholas in a way that was private and personal.

Nicholas' place was tucked away in a quieter part of Los Angeles, the streets lined with palm trees that swayed gently in the evening breeze. When you reached the front door, he opened it with a smile that lit up his whole face, making your heart skip. He was wearing a soft gray sweater that clung to his frame and fitted jeans, effortlessly stylish yet comfortably laid back. “You look stunning,” he said, his eyes dancing over your figure.

“Thanks! You clean up pretty well yourself,” you replied, trying to keep your voice steady despite the flutter of nerves in your stomach.

He ushered you inside, and it was exactly as you had imagined—stylish yet inviting, decorated in a way that felt uniquely him. The living room was warmed by soft lighting, highlighting the modern artwork that adorned the walls. A fluffy beige couch faced a modest kitchen where the smell of garlic sautéing filled the air. Nicholas grinned cheekily. “I hope you like Italian. I may have gone a little overboard with the pasta.”

You laughed, feeling instantly at ease. “I’m not complaining. It smells amazing!”

As he led you into the kitchen, the playful vibe between you flared like a spark. You slipped off your heels, enjoying the coolness of the wooden floor beneath your feet. “Let’s get to work, shall we?” he said, reaching for a bottle of wine.

“Wine first?” you teased.

“Only if you promise to help me cook,” he shot back, amusement dancing in his eyes.

You accepted a glass, savoring the way his fingers brushed against yours as he handed it to you; the simple gesture sent a jolt of electricity coursing through your body. As you both prepared dinner together, Nicholas cracked jokes about his culinary skills—claiming he was still trying to impress his mother—and you returned his playful banter, playfully questioning his choice of ingredients.

“Is this how you charm all the ladies?” you asked with a smirk as he accidentally spilled a pinch of salt into the sauce.

“Only the ones who can keep up,” he replied, winking at you, his gaze lingering just a second longer than necessary on your lips.

You could feel the warmth pooling inside you, a thrilling mix of nerves and intrigue. Raising an eyebrow, you leaned closer, close enough to catch the scent of his cologne mingling with the aromatic fumes wafting from the stove. “A challenge, huh? I think I’m up for it.”

His hand found its way to your waist as he moved around you, the touch intentional yet innocently casual. The heat radiated from where he held you, and the atmosphere thickened with unspoken desires, tension carved from every shared glance.

Dinner was a success—delicious and slightly chaotic, filled with laughter and lively conversation. Afterward, you both settled on the couch, the remnants of the meal cleared away. A bottle of wine was uncorked, and as the rich liquid flowed into your glasses, so too did the deeper conversations about life, ambition, and art. You shared pieces of yourself, opening up in a way that felt natural and liberating.

Nicholas listened intently, his focus unwavering, his eyes piercing through the dim light in the room. He shared stories from his childhood, the ups and downs of navigating fame, and the pressures that came with it. Each story unveiled another layer of the man you were growing to admire—not just his on-screen charm but the authenticity that lay beneath.

As the night wore on, the conversation took a flirtatious turn, lingering touches transitioning into palpable tension. The air was thick with anticipation, the quiet intensity building like a crescendo in a symphony. You could feel the magnetic pull between you, every brush of his hand against yours awakening a fire deep within.

In a moment that seemed suspended in time, he looked at you intently, a thousand emotions swirling in his gaze. “You have no idea how captivating you are,” he said softly, his voice low and husky.

Your heart raced, and you could barely find your voice. “And you have no idea what you’re doing to me,” you replied, your heartbeat hammering wildly in your chest.

Just as the tension reached its peak, it snapped, and before you could register what was happening, his lips were on yours, urgent and filled with the emotions that had been bubbling beneath the surface. The kiss was electric, igniting every nerve in your body. His hands cradled your face as if you were the most precious thing in the world, and you melted into him, shared moment of longing finding its release.

Your heart raced, and you could barely find your voice. "And you have no idea what you’re doing to me," you replied, your heartbeat hammering wildly in your chest. Just as the tension reached its peak, it snapped, and before you could register what was happening, his lips were on yours, urgent and filled with the emotions that had been bubbling beneath the surface. The kiss was electric, igniting every nerve in your body. His hands cradled your face as if you were the most precious thing in the world, and you melted into him, every shared moment of longing finding its release.

His lips moved from your mouth to your neck, leaving a trail of hot, wet kisses. You gasped as his teeth gently nipped at your earlobe, sending waves of pleasure coursing through your body. "You're so responsive," he murmured, his voice laced with desire. "I love how you react to my touch."

You pulled him closer, your hands exploring the hard muscles of his back. "I want more," you whispered, your voice barely audible. Nicholas smiled, his eyes dark with lust. "I thought you'd never ask," he said, his hands moving to the hem of your shirt.

He lifted your shirt over your head, his eyes taking in every inch of your body. You stood there, vulnerable and exposed, yet feeling more confident than ever. His hands cupped your breasts, his thumbs brushing against your nipples, making them harden instantly. You moaned, arching your back to press yourself against him.

Nicholas's mouth found your nipple, his tongue swirling around it before he took it into his mouth, sucking and nipping gently. You cried out, your hands tangled in his hair, holding him in place. He moved to your other breast, giving it the same attention, making you squirm with pleasure.

His hands moved down your body, tracing the curve of your hips before slipping under the waistband of your skirt. You gasped as his fingers found your clit, rubbing it gently through your panties. "You're so wet," he murmured, his voice filled with satisfaction. "I can't wait to taste you."

He slid your panties down your legs, his eyes never leaving yours. You stepped out of them, standing before him completely naked. Nicholas knelt down, his hands on your thighs, spreading them apart. You braced yourself against the wall as his mouth found your pussy, his tongue licking you from your opening to your clit.

You moaned, your hips bucking against his face. Nicholas gripped your thighs tighter, holding you in place as he continued to lick and suck you. His fingers found their way inside you, pumping in and out, matching the rhythm of his tongue. "You taste so good," he murmured, his voice muffled against your skin.

You could feel your orgasm building, your body tensing as waves of pleasure crashed over you. "I'm close," you gasped, your hands clutching his hair. Nicholas looked up at you, his eyes filled with desire. "Come for me," he said, his voice commanding. And with that, you did, your body convulsing as your orgasm ripped through you.

Nicholas stood up, his lips covered in your juices. You pulled him into a kiss, tasting yourself on his lips. "I want you inside me," you whispered against his mouth. He smiled, his cock hard and ready against your stomach. "I want that too," he said, his voice filled with lust.

Taste yourself on him, the taste of your desire and pleasure. He laid down next to you, his arm wrapped around your waist, pulling you close.

As your bodies cooled down, Nicholas whispered in your ear, "That was incredible." You smiled, your body still humming with pleasure. "It was," you agreed, your voice soft. Nicholas kissed your shoulder, his hand tracing lazy circles on your stomach.

The sun hung in the sky like a lazy star, casting golden rays on the bustling streets of Los Angeles. The city had a certain energy at noon—a buzz of laughter, chatter, and music that thrummed in the background as you and Nicholas made your way to a quaint café. You felt the familiar flutter in your stomach every time you laid eyes on him, this charming man who had flipped your world upside down since that fateful gala.

He was effortlessly stylish in a light denim jacket over a fitted t-shirt, his hair slightly tousled as though he’d just rolled out of bed. You, on the other hand, wore your confidence like your favorite dress; a royal blue sundress that swayed lightly with every step. The perfect dress for a casual afternoon felt like it had a purpose—to catch his eye, and today, it worked.

As you approached the entrance, Nicholas waved to a couple of fans who recognized him. They squealed in delight, their phones snapping pictures. A small smile played on his lips, but you could see the flicker of discomfort in his eyes. This was one of those moments when the reality of celebrity life hit hard.

You exchanged glances, your heart racing irrationally as he opened the door for you. “After you,” he grinned, revealing that perfectly straight line of teeth. Entering the café felt familiar and safe—a hidden gem filled with small wooden tables, rustic decor, and soft background music. As you settled in, the sunlight kissed your foreheads, creating a cozy atmosphere.

“So, are you ready for your first official sighting as my girlfriend?” Nicholas teased, leaning back in his chair, his arms casually resting against the wooden surface of the table.

Your cheeks flushed at that label—girlfriend. It was surreal how quickly everything had escalated since that magical charity gala. "I’m not sure I’m ready for the spotlight yet,” you replied cautiously, stirring your iced coffee with a straw, trying to mask the nervous excitement rising within you.

Nicholas leaned forward, his hair falling slightly into his eyes as he spoke softly, “You don’t have to be. I’ll protect you from the madness, I promise.” His intensity sent a jolt through you, an understanding of why you’d been drawn to this enigmatic man in the first place. There was sincerity in his voice like you were the only two people in the world at that moment.

You suddenly felt exposed in the café filled with fellow patrons, but the air between you shifted as he reached across the table and brushed his fingers lightly over your hand, a gesture so innocent yet electrifying. You fought to maintain composure; it was as if the world outside had faded away, leaving just the two of you drowning in each other’s gaze.

You laughed softly, attempting to lighten the mood. “What happens if we get caught in the act, huh? A scandalous photo of Nicholas Alexander Chavez holding hands with ‘mysterious girl’? That'll definitely pique the tabloids’ interest.”

His laughter echoed your own, bright and genuine. “Right? They’d paint me out to be a heartthrob dating a ‘nobody’—the things they’ll come up with!” He mirrored your playful tone, clearly enjoying the idea.

Just then, the bell above the café door jingled, and a few patrons turned their heads to you. You pressed your lips together, not wanting to draw attention but unable to hide your reaction. You required a steady heartbeat, but somehow, being out with him felt exhilarating, like you were both part of a bit of magical fiction.

After placing your order, you focused on light conversation, sharing stories of your work and traveling. But as you delved deeper, the atmosphere began to shift. You spoke of dreams and ambitions, and he listened with such intent that the heat between you grew palpable. It was as if you were no longer just a fan but two souls connecting, sharing experiences that transcended the celebrity facade.

“So, what’s your greatest dream?” he asked suddenly, his gaze unwavering, making you feel like the center of his universe.

“I suppose I want to create something…” you said hesitantly. “Something that resonates with people, like a book or a novel that could help someone out there feel less alone.” You bit your lip, unsure whether your vulnerability would push him away.

A smile of encouragement spread across Nicholas's features. “I love that. You have such a kind heart, wanting to uplift others. But I have to admit, I always thought your first dream would be to become an actress.”

You chuckled, shaking your head. “No, that’s definitely not my path. I’ll leave the acting to you.”

“But you’d be fantastic—give it a try!” His enthusiasm shifted the conversation’s tone.

At that moment, your eyes locked, and the world around you faded again. His compliment lingered. In a cacophony of noise, it felt serene, amplifying the longing and tenderness brewing in the air.

As you finished lunch, Nicholas paid the bill, but before you could rise, he leaned in closer, whispering, “Want to take a walk? I think we could enjoy this beautiful weather.”

You nodded, heart racing as the waiter smiled knowingly at you both. The walk turned into a leisurely stroll down the picturesque street, but the quiet chatter and laughter from other customers filled the air. As couples passed, holding hands and giggling, doubt crept in. Would you fit into his world? Did you belong in a love story where the media followed every footstep?

Suddenly, someone shouted, “Nicholas!” from behind. You turned to see a group of people snapping photos and shouting questions.

Nicholas held your hand tighter, his protective instincts kicking in as he led you away, heart pounding. “Don’t worry; I won’t let them overwhelm you,” he reassured you, leading you down a quieter alleyway.

“Hiding from the paparazzi already?” you teased, the wild energy of the afternoon igniting a playful spark.

“I think for now, it’s better to avoid the spotlight… but I promise we’ll get used to it together.” He winked, the cheeky grin returning to his face.

Just then, you felt it—his fingers brushing lightly against yours as you navigated the narrow space between two buildings, the electricity crackling and their connections sparking:

His eyes met yours, the air growing thick with unexpressed emotions and unspoken promises. It was a moment that reminded you there was still magic in the world.

As you turned, you collided against him, leaning into his warmth, your pulse racing. “You’ll keep me safe, right?” you murmured, inviting vulnerability.

“Always,” he whispered, leaning ever closer, tantalizingly close yet challenging the rules of what was appropriate.

And in that sanctuary away from prying eyes and flashing cameras, you both indulged in the escalating tension, knowing the path ahead lay somewhere between public dreams and private desires. You were ready to embrace it.

The early morning sun poured through your window, casting a warm glow across your room. The excitement bubbling in your stomach was contagious, filling your thoughts as you prepared for a weekend that promised to be life-changing. Nicholas had invited you to a secluded beach house for a romantic getaway, a break from the intensities of the public eye and the constant buzz of Los Angeles. This was your chance to explore what had been building between you, surrounded by soft sand and the gentle sounds of the waves.

You slipped into a light sundress, the fabric flowing gracefully around your legs as you caught a glimpse of yourself in the mirror. The vibrant colors highlighted your features, and you couldn’t help but smile at your reflection. Today wasn’t just another day; it was the beginning of an escape, a chance to relax and truly be yourself around Nicholas.

Arriving at the meeting point, you spotted Nicholas standing by his car, his face lit up with that captivating smile that made your heart race. He wore a casual ensemble: fitted jeans and a simple white T-shirt, yet he looked effortlessly handsome. As you approached, he greeted you with a warm hug, and a rush of butterflies fluttered through your stomach at the contact.

“Ready for the best weekend of your life?” he asked, his eyes sparkling with anticipation.

You nodded, unable to form words. Instead, you climbed into the passenger seat, unable to suppress a grin as he slipped into the driver’s seat beside you. The car hummed to life, and with a quick glance your way, he put on a playlist of lighthearted tunes, instantly setting a cheerful tone for the road trip ahead.

As you pulled away from the city, the congested streets gave way to open roads flanked by tall trees and endless skies. You chatted about everything and nothing, laughter spilling easily between you—stories about childhood, your favorite places, dreams you hadn’t shared with anyone before. With each passing mile, your connection deepened, growing from a spark to a flame.

“Do you ever get used to the whole celebrity thing?” you asked, curiosity guiding your question.

Nicholas chuckled softly, his hands tightening around the steering wheel. “Honestly? Sometimes it feels like a double life. The lights and glamour, yes, but then there’s just normal me, you know? I love moments like this—away from it all."

His candidness made you smile. “I can only imagine. What do you do to escape?”

He glanced at you, a playful glint in his eye. “I’m a pro at finding cozy little spots. But nothing quite like this weekend—with you, everything feels just right.”

The complimentary exchange of your thoughts flowed effortlessly, a gentle rhythm establishing between you both. Just as the sun began its descent, painting the sky in hues of orange and pink, you arrived at the beach house, a charming retreat nestled on the shore. The scents of salt and sea breeze welcomed you as you stepped out of the car.

“Welcome to paradise,” he declared theatrically, throwing his arms wide to encompass the view. The house was stunning, with large windows that framed views of the ocean, its soft roar beckoning you forward.

You took in the surroundings, feeling the magic of the setting. It was everything you’d dreamed of for a special weekend. Inside, the decor was warm and inviting, a mixture of coastal charm and modern amenities. Nicholas stepped over to the kitchen, a place where the evening’s culinary adventure would soon unfold

kitchen, a place where the evening’s culinary adventure would soon unfold.

“Any requests for dinner?” he asked, already pulling out pots and pans as if he had been preparing for this moment.

Your eyes lit up. “Surprise me! Just nothing too spicy—I’m not great with heat in my food,” you replied, good-naturedly teasing.

s he began preparing the meal, the kitchen transformed into a lively atmosphere. You took a content seat on the counter, watching him work. “You’re quite the chef,” you commented, impressed as he expertly diced vegetables, contrasting with the actor persona you had become accustomed to seeing on-screen.

“Oh, I dabble. Cooking is one of my favorite escapes. Want to help?”

He reached out, grabbing your hands and pulling you down to the floor, guiding you to stand beside him. The two of you continued the evening, creating delicious dishes and sharing flirtatious banter, his playful touches igniting electricity between you as he moved in close, his hands often resting on your waist or brushing your arms.

As the aromas of a delightful meal filled the air, the atmosphere gradually shifted. Dinner was served on the terrace, a beautiful candlelit setup overlooking the ocean. The flickering lights danced softly in the evening breeze, creating an intimate sanctuary away from the world.

With each bite, your conversation took on a deeper tone, revealing your hopes, dreams, and fears. Nicholas shared stories about his upbringing, moments that shaped him, and you reciprocated with your own stories, revealing layers of your life you rarely discussed. There was raw honesty in your exchanges, and the chemistry between you both became palpable.

Eventually, you transitioned from the terrace to the cozy living room, still wrapped in the warmth of each other’s company. A half-empty bottle of red wine sat on the coffee table, two glasses clinking softly as you filled them. Sparks of laughter and connection intertwined as you prepared to settle down.

Finally, as he leaned back against the couch, he turned toward you, a serious look replacing the lighthearted atmosphere. “Can I tell you something?” he asked, his voice dropping to a husky whisper.

You nodded, curious.

“I’ve never felt this way about anyone before. There’s something about you, something that pulls me in.”

Your heart raced, the raw honesty of his admission echoing loudly in the stillness of the room. You shifted closer, his gaze intoxicating.

“Me too, Nicholas,” you whispered back, your pulse quickening.

In that charged moment, the world melted away, leaving only the two of you suspended in time. Nicholas leaned in, brushing a stray hair behind your ear with a tenderness that made your heart flutter. The tension between you escalated, magnetic and electric.

He paused, searching your eyes for permission. You could feel the heat radiating off him, and there was no denying the longing that sparked in the air.

Then, in an instant, all the teasing and banter that had built up between you both broke free. His lips met yours in a flurry of passion—soft, sweet, then deepening as he cupped your face in his hands. You melted against him, surrendering yourself to the intoxicating warmth of the moment. Yet, just when things began to escalate, you pulled away, breathless.

Time skip

It was one of those gloomy afternoons when the clouds hung low like a shroud over the bustling city. You had planned to spend the day curled up with a book and a cup of coffee, a comforting escape from the whirlwind of emotions that had become your life since dating Nicholas Alexander Chavez. However, as you scrolled through your phone, your relaxed intentions swiftly turned into a sensation of dread.

Your heart sank as you stumbled across the latest gossip blog, its headline screaming about Nicholas’s alleged romantic involvement with a co-star on set, someone whose name you recognized all too well. The article painted a scandalous picture, dripping with insinuation and wild conjecture. The infamous paparazzi photos were splashed across the screen, showing them laughing together: a moment that seemed innocent enough but was now twisted into a narrative that pricked at your insecurities.

hough you knew better than to believe everything you read, the fear gnawed at you. How could you ignore the whispers that echoed through your social media feed, fueled by both envy and intrigue? Your relationship with Nicholas had come with its share of challenges, but today felt particularly heavy.

You tossed your phone down, feeling the walls of your small apartment closing in. The truth was that the euphoria of dating a celebrity was fading, and the pressures were beginning to take a toll. You felt like a shadow of your former self, scared that the spotlight on him would ultimately burn you both.

Later that evening, you found yourself standing in the kitchen, the scent of spaghetti sauce filling the air, an attempt at normalcy. Just as you were about to plate up dinner, your phone buzzed on the table. It was a call from Nicholas, and your heart quickened.

“Hey,” you managed to say, feigning nonchalance.

“Hey, you! I just wrapped up for the day. How are you?” His voice was warm, inviting, grounding, despite the distance.

You took a deep breath and forced yourself to reply with enthusiasm, but the words caught in your throat. Silence stretched between you two as you contemplated how to broach the topic that loomed between you. Nicholas finally broke the silence, concern lacing his tone. “You there?”

“Yeah, just… saw something online.” You could hear the pitiful waver in your voice.

“What did you see?” He sounded wary, the weight of his career pressing down on both of you even over the phone.

You took another deep breath, knowing you had to be honest, yet fearing the repercussions. “The rumors about you and Jade …”

“Jade?” His voice instantly hardened, the warmth vanishing. “What rumors?”

You quickly explained the article, feeling more exposed with each word. You could almost feel him stiffen through the line as he processed the information. “That’s insane. It’s purely professional. We’re acting, Y/N! It’s work!”

“I know that,” you responded, a twinge of frustration creeping into your voice. “But everyone else doesn’t. I can’t— I don’t think I can handle this. All this scrutiny… it’s overwhelming.”

There was a heavy silence before he spoke again, his voice brimming with tension. “So you’re just going to believe what strangers think? I thought you knew me better than that.”

our heart raced as you protested, “It’s not that easy! You’re living in a different universe! I’m just… just trying to figure out if I fit into it.”

Are you saying you don’t want this?” His voice cracked, and you could feel the heat of the confrontation rising.

“I don’t know!” Tears pricked your eyes. “Maybe I’m just scared… scared that this isn’t real, that I’m just a passing thought for you.”

“Y/N, please—don’t say that.” His voice softened as if he could sense the fracture in your heart. “You’re not a passing thought. You’re everything to me. I’m just trying to keep everything balanced.”

“Is that really what this is about?” you asked, barely above a whisper. “Can you even make time for me with your crazy schedule?”

“I’m trying!” he snapped back, frustration spilling into the conversation. “Can’t you see I’m trying?”

The emotional storm swirling around you started to feel unbearable. “You’re not the only one who’s struggling, Nicholas. I love you, but I can’t keep fighting this war of doubts, not when every new headline feels like a dagger to the relationship we’ve built.”

His silence felt as heavy as the dense clouds outside. Finally, he sighed deeply. “I wish you could see how much I want this to work.”

Then show me,” you challenged, your voice trembling with vulnerability. “Show me how much I matter.”

A long pause hung in the air before he said, “I need you to trust me, Y/N. I’m all in—just give me the chance to prove it.”

The tension was palpable, a push and pull of raw emotions crashing in waves against the shore of your relationship. You both wanted to bridge the gap, but scarring doubts lingered like ghostly whispers, refusing to be easily banished.

“Alright,” you finally breathed, torn between belief and fear. “I’ll try.”

Good,” he replied softly, the warmth creeping back into his voice. “Just don’t shut me out, okay?”

“I won’t. I promise.” With that, you decided to let the conversation end for now. A bittersweet sense of hope flickered within you, but still, the tension lingered, unresolved, heavy between you like a storm waiting to break.

As night fell, you wrapped your arms around yourself, wishing for clarity. Your heart ached with uncertainty, leaving you to wonder if love could be enough to weather the darkest clouds. You just hoped that amidst the chaos, Nicholas would find a way to show you that your place in the storm was secure.

long shadows cast across your living room as you sat curled up on the couch, surrounded by a fortress of pillow cushions. The remnants of a half-eaten tub of your favorite ice cream lay abandoned beside you, and the TV buzzed in the background, but you couldn't concentrate on the screen. Your mind was tangled in knots, replaying everything that had happened in the last couple of weeks since that fateful argument with Nicholas.

He had stormed out after you accused him of being too wrapped up in his fame and his new co-star, Jade. You hadn't meant it to sound so harsh, but doubt had crept in, nurtured by the gossip blogs that twisted every picture of Nicholas and Jade into scandalous narratives. The backlash on social media was relentless, and it had hurt to see the way his fans celebrated every interaction with her. The moment had spiraled out of control, and you hadn’t seen him since.

Part of you had fought to suppress the nagging voice that whispered you were better off without him. But deep down, you knew that was a lie. Your heart ached with longing; the laughter you shared, the way his dark eyes sparkled when he told you stories from the set, and the intensity of the moments when it was just the two of you. It all felt like a dream slipping away and leaving nothing behind but confusion.

As you stared wistfully out of the window, a sudden vibration from your phone nearly startled you, pulling you from your reverie. Your heart raced as you picked it up. The screen lit up with Nicholas’s name, and for a moment, you hesitated. A part of you wanted to ignore it, to keep your distance and maintain the facade of being strong and self-sufficient. But the longing was almost unbearable, and you answered.

“Nicholas,” you breathed, your heart hammering against your ribcage.

Y/N,” he replied, his voice warm yet laced with an urgency that set you on fire. “Can we talk?”

“Yes,” you whispered, emotions swirling like a tempest inside you. His tone seemed both reassured and uncertain, a blend that made your stomach churn with anxiety. A few moments later, he announced, “I’m on my way.”

You nearly dropped the phone, panic intertwining with excitement in your chest. “Where? How?”

Just… meet me outside?” The call ended abruptly, leaving you both exhilarated and apprehensive. You sprang to your feet, the ice cream forgotten, rushing to compose yourself. You combed your fingers through your hair and replaced your sweatpants with a casual but flattering outfit. The wait felt like an eternity as you hovered near the window, glancing outside between drags of breaths.

Then you saw him, stepping out of an Uber, his familiar silhouette striking against the late afternoon sun. His hair tousled and a hint of stubble adorning his jawbone, he looked as if he had just walked out of a magazine cover—stunningly recognizable yet painfully human all at once. Your pulse quickened, a rush of love and anxiety engulfing you, surfacing just as he approached your door.

When you opened it, he stood there, his face a mixture of determination and vulnerability that tugged at your heartstrings. The moment hung heavy between you, neither of you quite ready to bridge the gap that had formed during your time apart.

“Can I come in?” he asked softly.

You nodded, stepping aside to allow him entry, and as you closed the door, a weight settled on your chest. He turned to face you, and in that instant, memories of laughter and shared moments flooded back, heavy with what you both had built amid the chaos of his celebrity life and escalating pressures.

Look,” Nicholas began, running a hand through his hair, a gesture you recognized as one of frustration. “I flew back from shooting just to talk to you. I needed to understand why…” He trailed off, searching for the right words.

“Why I doubted you?” you supplied, your voice catching in your throat. “Why I called out your relationship with Jade as something it wasn’t?”

Exactly.” He drew closer, his intensity drawing you into a whirlpool of emotions. “You have every right to feel insecure, and if I made you feel that way... I’m sorry. But I want you to know it’s always been you for me. The glimpses of my world you saw were never meant to keep you out. It was never just publicity for me. This…” He stepped back slightly, motioning between you two. “This is real.”

Tears stung your eyes at the sincerity of his words. “What about the rumors? People say…”

People say a lot of things. I let the noise drown out our silence. I thought I could handle it, but losing you... it’s the worst part of all this.” His voice smoldered beneath layers of vulnerability. “I’d give up everything if it meant keeping you close.”

You swallowed hard, the echoes of his confession wrapping around your heart. “But can we manage this? Can love withstand all the chaos surrounding you?”

He took a step closer, invading the space with his presence, his warm breath mingling with yours. “We can fight for it. The world can be loud, but I want every moment I can steal with you. The quiet parts. The messy ones. The fights when we disagree. All of it.”

He was close enough that you could feel the heat radiating from his skin, and for a moment, everything else faded—the doubts, the scrutiny, the world outside. It felt just like those stolen moments you had experienced before. “What if I can’t handle the spotlight?” you asked, your heart racing as you met his gaze.

Nicholas took your hand gently, brushing his thumb along your knuckles. “Then I’ll ensure you never have to face it alone. I’ll be there, holding your hand through every ordeal, every misunderstanding. We can figure this out together.”

His voice dropped to a husky whisper that made your heart flutter. The intensity between you was palpable, the distance collapsing into closeness until your lips were just inches apart. Your breath mingled with his as the weight of uncertainty melted into a spark of connection.

“I might need some convincing,” you teased lightly, searching for a way to ease the tension that had built. Nicholas grinned, and that boyish charm made your insides tingle.

"Then allow me." He closed the gap, capturing your lips with his, the kiss igniting everything you had been missing—desire and warmth swept over you like an all-consuming flame, melting away your fears. It was electric, each brush of his lips reminding you why you had fought so hard against doubt.

His hands found your waist, pulling you closer as his tongue teased your lips. You parted them, inviting him deeper, and he accepted the invitation with a hungry groan. His fingers trailed up your back, leaving a trail of goosebumps in their wake, before they tangled in your hair, holding you in place as he deepened the kiss.

You melted into him, your body pressing against his as your hands explored the contours of his chest. The feel of his muscles beneath your fingertips made you ache for more. You broke the kiss, gasping for breath, and he trailed soft kisses down your neck, making you shiver.

You taste amazing," he murmured, his voice laced with desire. "I could kiss you all night."

And I could let you," you whispered back, your voice barely audible over the music. "But I have a feeling there's more you want to do."

He chuckled, a low, throaty sound that made you shiver. "You're right, I want to see you," he said, his voice rough with need. "Every inch of you."

You smiled, slowly unbuttoning your blouse as his eyes followed your every move. He reached out, helping you slip it off your shoulders, his fingers brushing against your skin and sending shivers down your spine.

You're gorgeous," he said, his voice barely a whisper as he traced the line of your bra with his fingertips. "And I want to taste every inch of you."

He leaned down, his lips claiming yours once more as his hands unhooked your bra, letting it fall to the floor. You gasped as his mouth found your nipple, his tongue circling the sensitive bud before taking it into his mouth. You arched against him, a moan escaping your lips as he sucked and teased, sending waves of pleasure coursing through your body.

His hands roamed your body, exploring every curve and dip as he made his way down to your waistband. He unbuttoned your jeans, his fingers brushing against your skin as he slid them down your hips. You stepped out of them, standing before him in nothing but your panties.

He looked up at you, his eyes dark with desire. "You're amazing," he said, his voice a low growl. "And I want to make you feel amazing."

He hooked his fingers into the waistband of your panties, slowly pulling them down until they joined your jeans on the floor. You stood before him, completely naked, as he took a moment to appreciate every inch of your body.

"You're perfect," he said, his voice a low murmur. "Absolutely perfect."

He led you to his bed, laying you down gently before joining you. His hands explored your body, his touch gentle yet firm as he traced the line of your thigh, his fingers brushing against your most intimate place. You gasped, your hips arching against his touch as he slipped a finger inside you, his thumb circling your clit.

You're so wet," he murmured, his voice thick with desire. "So ready for me."

ou nodded, your breath coming in short gasps as he added another finger, his pace increasing as he brought you closer and closer to the edge. You could feel the pleasure building, your body tensing as you teetered on the brink.

Come for me," he whispered, his voice a command as his thumb pressed against your clit. You cried out, your body convulsing as waves of pleasure washed over you, leaving you breathless and trembling.

He kissed you gently, his fingers still inside you as he slowly pulled them out. You could feel the emptiness, the ache for more, and you knew that you wanted him inside you.

e rolled onto his back, pulling you on top of him. You straddled him, his cock hard and ready against your entrance. You guided him inside, gasping as he filled you completely. You began to move, your hips rising and falling as you found your rhythm.

He gripped your hips, his fingers digging into your skin as he met your thrusts, his cock sliding in and out of you with a wet, slapping sound that filled the room. You could hear your own moans, the sound of your breath as it caught in your throat, the feel of his cock inside you sending shockwaves of pleasure through your body.

"Faster," you gasped, your body aching for more. "Harder."

He obliged, his hips thrusting upwards as he met your downward strokes, his cock slamming into you with a force that made you cry out. You could feel the pleasure building again, your body tensing as you rode him, your fingers gripping his shoulders for support.

Yes," you gasped, your body convulsing as another orgasm washed over you, leaving you breathless and shaking. You could feel him inside you, his cock pulsing as he found his own release, his body tensing as he came with a low groan.

You collapsed against him, your body slick with sweat as you struggled to catch your breath. He wrapped his arms around you, holding you close as you both came down from the high.

"That was amazing," he said, his voice a low murmur as he kissed the top of your head. "Absolutely amazing."

You smiled, your body still tingling with the aftershocks of your orgasm. "It certainly Was"

Nicholas drew you closer, kissing you deeper, his hands weaving into your.

“Let’s not let anything come between us again,” he murmured, his forehead resting against yours.

“I want that too,” you replied, the tension of unresolved issues still swirling in the air. But there was something vibrant, something alive in the way his gaze held yours.

Nicholas paused, his expression turning serious once more, “I’ll fight for you, Y/N. Always.”

_________

BYEEE LONGEST FIC EVER.. #needthat

Comments are much appreciate I love it 😋

#nicholas alexander chavez #nicholas chavez #nicholas Alexander chavez x reader #smut #fluff #nicholas chavez smut #nicholas chavez fluff #nicholas chavez fanfiction #nicholas chavez x reader #x reader #drama #i need that man so bad #so hot and sexy

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heartlilith · 11 months ago

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WHAT THE VENUS SIGNS REMIND ME OF

🩷Oddly specific things I think about when I hear ______ venus

Aries Venus: Summer, rubies, Mr. and Mrs. Smith, rollercoasters, fast cars, the color red, vampire fangs, Saturday nights, liquor stores and gas stations, fireworks, sour candy, cool bic lighters, “you’re mine”, Mario Kart, boys who wear nail polish, fuck it energy, oversized sweatshirts, middle finger emoji, cherries

Taurus Venus: Satin pillowcases, white candles, pearls, mirrors, hand holding, walking someone home at night, vinyls, red lipstick, full lips, fancy dinner dates, the wine and dine, old romantic movies, wallets and purses, hotels, French manicures, old money, “I won’t get on my knees for no man”

Gemini Venus: Driving around at night listening to music, reading to someone, comedy shows, mimosas, Samantha from Sex and the City, libraries, nerd kink, hot teachers/student kink, emerald green, laughter, swing sets, looking out of the window and just watching, untied shoelaces, dogs and puppies, dad jokes

Cancer Venus: Soft feather pillows, a bowl of warm soup, a bubble bath, tears and running mascara, babies and how babies laugh, poetry, “I’ll be whatever you want me to be”, hot tubs, hot coffee, teddy bears, heartbeats, soft hands & skin, lotion, bagels and cream cheese, doodling in your journal

Leo Venus: Lip gloss, mojitos, getting drunk at brunch, diamond tennis bracelets, drunk texts you regret sending later, the block button, lonely nights, shooting stars, blowing bubbles, piggy back rides, art museums, glittery eyeshadow, jumparoos, birthday parties

Virgo Venus: Taking a shower, Dove soap, smooth skin, symmetry, butterflies, the smell of books, getting a facial or going to the spa, chicken caesar salads, the good tasting water, chunky headphones, acoustic guitar, running errands, getting your eyebrows done, neat handwriting, neutral colors, sushi

Libra Venus: Blush, dimples, Y2K fashion, Hello Kitty, makeup skills, those little hand mirrors, princes and princesses, cupcakes, pedicures, Margaritas, taking pictures, art, castles, Disney movies, daisies, spin the bottle, cartwheels, soft hair, bubblegum, skincare, watermelon and pineapple

Scorpio Venus: Psychology, neck tattoos, “until death do us part”, Kings & Queens, snakes, sacred sex, chess, secrets, hickeys, the feeling after you stay up all night, the feeling of being at a concert, roses, knives, tequila shots, legs intertwined, dirty martinis, sparklers, Avril Lavigne, fantasy books, true crime and dark history

Sagittarius Venus: Clouds, rock climbing, rappers, Hip Hop and R&B, going on vacation, açaí bowls and fresh fruit, sun kissed/radiant skin, the color yellow, retreats, history, yoga and Pilates, spicy food, “it is what it is”, curly hair, the smell of weed, casinos, the last day of school, Las Vegas

Capricorn Venus: Leather, red wine, the cow pattern, cowgirl boots, the color brown, espresso, dark chocolate, briefcase of money like in the movies, the movie Scarface, whiskey on the rocks, bosses, owls, turtle necks, caramel, wearing suits, lingerie, business, New York City

Aquarius Venus: Lightbulbs, telescopes and microscopes, LED lights, hamsters, college parties, glitter, peace signs, 70s concerts, food trucks, skipping school, “fuck it”, diving in the pool, the beach at night, disco balls, getting detentions in school

Pisces Venus: Mermaids, kittens, cartoons and Disney princesses, champagne, Webkinz, little kid stories like Goldilocks, 3 Little Pigs, Hansel and Gretel, clear glittery lip gloss, holographic, snowmen and icicles, swimming in the pool, flower gardens, glow sticks , picnics, bumblebees, sand castles, elementary art class, 3D movies

Book a Reading 🩷

Masterlist 🩷

#astrology #astro #astro observations #astrology community #astro community #sagittarius #scorpio #leo #cancer #venus signs #venus #Leo venus #Aries venus #Taurus venus #Scorpio venus

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lizzybeeee · 2 months ago

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Calling it now:

If there's ever any future installments of Dragon Age there will be no mention of the differentiation between the Dalish or City Elves.

Like in DATV they will simply all be 'elves' and the vallaslin will be reduced to 'cool looking tattoo's that some veil jumpers have' - no mention of the elven pantheon either, because why bother! They're all dead now!

They're all dead and responsible for every lore plot point in Thedas, and there's nothing of mystery or substance left in the world now.

No mention of the culture in the alienage, of the vhenadahl tree, of the horrific racism and systematic abuse the elves have been through...now its just elves. With the way the Veil Jumpers have been set up, and the fact that the elven gods were the enemy in DATV, I find it extremely unlikely that the Dalish will even exist as a group either. Why would they? Their Gods returned and blighted the world - not that the fact is even truly discussed in the game. Elves are just elves, and the notable elves are Veil Jumpers.

Maybe you'll walk in a city, pick up a codex, and get a copy and pasted explanation of history from a DAO codex - a reminder of what we used to have and what BioWare absolutely demolished in their attempt to build a new IP on the bones of Dragon Age. The absolute whiplash in writing, story, and character between DAI and DATV is staggering. How on earth could the studio that made such a gorgeous, rich world of lore surrounding the elves in one game end up utterly bastardizing and reducing it to nothing?

How can you look at a place like the Temple of Mythal and go from those gorgeous golden murals and emerald tiled roofs that reached to the heavens to a place like the Lighthouse? From the Emerald Graves to the ruins of Arlathan - devoid of halls that reach to the heavens and golden murals replaced with stained glass? The entirety of the Trespasser DLC had more character and reverence for what the elven empire once was, and DATV feels as though it's approaching it with the perspective of 'generic elven bullshit with triangles everywhere'. All that unique architecture has been obliterated by adding in World of Warcraft focus crystals and automatons.

How can you go from the atmospheric/environmental storytelling of the Lost Temple of Dirthamen to Solas just blurting everything out? No weight, no double truths or hidden meanings - just blurting it out, getting it said and done with no gravitas? That was Solas' entire thing! People have made threads literally dissecting what Solas says and does not say - now he spits lore out as though it were common, everyday knowledge.

How can anyone justify the sudden emergence of magical automatons everywhere in old elven ruins? As if Dragon Age didn't have a host of enemies/creatures available to use in their stead - or the ability to create something unique to the forest of Arlathan. What happened to the spirit guardians? What happened to the lingering echoes of the elves slaughtered by humans in wars ages past like in DAO? Magic was their very existence - spells taking years or centuries to cast, weaving in and about each other - and you're telling me the ancient elves spent their time creating magical transformers?! It feels/looks so utterly seperate from everything we know of the elves from Dragon Age.

Or look at the Crossroads - listen to how Morrigan speaks of it - the reverence for the past, the misty atmosphere, and the heaviness of this pocket of the world that carries the fading memories of a world and people that no longer exists...now it's reduced to a hub world! People are just popping in and out of it at will!

In Trespasser, the few eluvians that we were available to travel to led to the most lonely, desolate spots of Thedas, which ensured their survival over the past millennia. The mirror in the Deep Roads, the mirror in the ancient stronghold in Ferelden...now they're everywhere!The 'few surviving' eluvians are in every major settlement of Thedas and all are in operating order! More than that, everyone who sees an eluvian knows what it is - this ancient marvel of a world long gone has lost all worth and is reduced to a 'world building' justification for fast travel.

Poor Merrill, slaving for a near decade to try and restore a small sliver of her history, only to have all gravitas and wonder of her discovery utterly made void. All that accomplishment wasted, especially when Bellara can wave her magic omni-tool and fix an eluvian in a matter of hours.

If you took every specific Dragon Age terminology out of the Veilguard and replaced it with generic fantasy bullshit you would never be able to tell the difference. The world of DATV is so divorced from its predecessors its astounding.

#datv spoilers #dragon age #dragon age the veilguard #bioware critical #bioware what the fuck #elves of thedas #dalish elves #city elves #one good thing about how bad this game is: it's easy to just separate it from the rest of the games #I wanted to explore every corner of the ruins in Inquisition #I wanted to read every codex #fun fact! it's all gone now!#Never forget the bioware fucking nuked southern thedas from existence #weeping into the void #duncan didn't die for this #datv critical #edited to add in that I think the 'dalish' won't even exist as a group anymore thanks to DATV #veilguard critical

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callsigns-haze · 4 months ago

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Unexpected twist

Pairing: Tim Bradford x Reader

Chapter Summary: Tim and Y/N's first date at a fancy restaurant is interrupted by a robbery, turning a romantic evening into a spontaneous takedown and leaving their relationship exposed to their curious colleagues.

Chapter Warning: This chapter contains a sudden shift from a romantic date to an intense, potentially dangerous situation involving a robbery, with moments of suspense, gun use, and police intervention.

A/N: My first fic about the rookie eeeeeeeeek

The evening was perfect—the kind of night that begged for romance. The sun had just set, leaving behind a soft twilight that bathed Los Angeles in shades of purple and gold. The upscale restaurant Tim Bradford had chosen was nestled in a quiet corner of the city, known for its elegance and discretion. It was the kind of place where celebrities could dine without being disturbed, and tonight, it was the stage for a first date that had been a long time coming.

Tim arrived first, feeling a strange mix of anticipation and nerves. His usually steady hands betrayed a slight tremor as he adjusted the cuffs of his navy-blue suit. The suit was perfectly tailored, accentuating his broad shoulders and athletic build, the sharp lines giving him an air of authority even out of uniform. The crisp white shirt he wore beneath it was open at the collar, revealing a hint of tanned skin, and his dark leather shoes were polished to a mirror shine. His hair was neatly styled, though a few rebellious strands fell across his forehead, softening the hard lines of his face. He glanced at his reflection in the window, making a mental note to ease up on the cologne—he wanted to make an impression, not overwhelm her.

Just as Tim settled into his seat, Y/N Y/L/N entered the restaurant, and for a moment, he forgot how to breathe. She was a vision in an emerald-green dress that hugged her curves in all the right places, the rich color bringing out the warmth of her skin. The neckline was a perfect balance—elegant yet suggestive, hinting at the strength beneath the softness. Her hair was styled in loose waves that cascaded over her shoulders, and her makeup was subtle but impeccable, with a soft shimmer on her eyelids that caught the light just so. A delicate gold necklace adorned her neck, matching the small, sparkling earrings that completed her look. She moved with a grace that was both natural and practiced, each step exuding confidence.

Tim stood as she approached, his heart beating a little faster than usual. "Wow," he said, his voice dropping an octave, full of genuine admiration. "You look... stunning."

Y/N smiled, a hint of a blush rising to her cheeks. "Thank you. You clean up pretty well yourself, Bradford. I almost didn't recognize you without the uniform and scowl."

He chuckled, the tension easing slightly. "I save the scowl for the rookies. And for bad guys. I promise you won't see it tonight."

She raised an eyebrow playfully as she took her seat. "We'll see about that. I’m sure I could get it out of you if I tried."

Tim’s eyes sparkled with amusement. "Careful, Detective. You don’t want to see me at my worst tonight."

"Oh, I’m not afraid of you," Y/N teased, her voice dropping to a flirtatious whisper. "In fact, I’m looking forward to it."

Tim leaned in slightly, his gaze locking with hers. "You know, I wasn't sure you'd actually say yes to this. We've worked together for a while, and I didn’t know if you’d be interested in mixing business with… pleasure."

Y/N's lips curled into a slow, seductive smile. "Who says I’m interested in pleasure, Bradford? Maybe I just wanted to see if you’re as tough off-duty as you are on."

His grin widened, clearly enjoying the banter. "Oh, I’m just as tough, but I can be pretty charming when I want to be."

"Charming, huh?" Y/N’s tone was light, teasing. "I’ll believe it when I see it."

They continued to flirt as the evening progressed, their conversations flowing easily from work to personal interests, each revelation bringing them closer. The chemistry between them crackled like electricity, unspoken but undeniable. Every now and then, they would exchange a glance, both of them half-expecting a familiar face from the station to walk through the door.

"You know," Y/N said, breaking the momentary silence, "I keep thinking someone from work is going to walk in and ruin this."

Tim nodded, his expression softening. "Same here. It’s like we can’t escape the job, even on a night like this."

"Well, if they do show up, we’ll just tell them we’re working undercover," she suggested with a mischievous grin.

Tim smirked. "Yeah? And what exactly are we investigating?"

"Restaurant quality," she replied with a wink, making Tim chuckle.

Just as they were starting to relax, the door to the restaurant was thrown open with a loud crash, and the once tranquil atmosphere shattered like glass. A man in a black ski mask stormed in, waving a gun wildly in the air. The room fell into a stunned silence, every patron freezing in fear.

"Everyone stay where you are!" the man shouted, his voice edged with desperation. "Empty your wallets, your purses—now!"

Tim’s eyes sharpened, his instincts kicking in immediately. He looked at Y/N, who had already reached under the table, her hand on her off-duty weapon. Her expression had gone from flirty to deadly serious in an instant. She gave Tim a quick nod, and they both moved with a speed and precision that spoke to years of training and experience.

"Hey!" Tim barked, standing up suddenly. His voice was authoritative, commanding the room. "LAPD! Drop the weapon and get on the ground, now!"

The robber spun around, momentarily thrown off by the unexpected confrontation. His gun wavered, but his desperation outweighed his common sense.

"Don’t move!" he yelled, his voice cracking. But it was too late—Y/N was already moving, her gun drawn and trained on him with deadly accuracy.

"Put the gun down!" Y/N ordered, her voice steady, every bit the seasoned detective. "This doesn’t have to end badly for you."

The man hesitated, his eyes darting between the two officers and the terrified patrons around him. The tension in the room was palpable, everyone holding their breath, waiting for the situation to explode.

Tim slowly approached, his gun also drawn. "You’re outnumbered, and we’re not going to ask again," he warned, his voice low and threatening. "Drop it."

The robber’s resolve broke. His hand shook violently as he looked from Tim to Y/N, realizing he had no way out. With a defeated sigh, he let the gun slip from his fingers and clatter to the floor. Y/N was on him in an instant, kicking the weapon away and securing his wrists with a pair of handcuffs.

Tim kept his gun trained on the man until he was sure the situation was under control. As the adrenaline began to fade, he glanced around the restaurant, noticing the wide-eyed stares of the other patrons. Applause broke out, tentative at first, then growing louder as relief washed over the room.

Y/N looked up at Tim, a grin spreading across her face. "So much for a quiet evening, huh?"

Tim couldn’t help but smile back. "Yeah, I guess we have a talent for finding trouble."

Y/N stood, pulling the cuffed robber to his feet. "Or maybe trouble just finds us."

Before they could share another quip, the sound of police sirens filled the air outside, and moments later, a familiar group of officers burst into the restaurant, weapons drawn, ready to respond.

Nolan was the first through the door, followed by Harper, Aaron, and Lucy. Their faces were a mix of surprise and confusion as they took in the scene—Y/N and Tim standing over a cuffed suspect, both looking more like they were on a night out than responding to a robbery.

"What the hell is going on here?" Harper demanded, her sharp eyes narrowing as she holstered her weapon.

Tim and Y/N exchanged a quick look, trying to come up with a plausible explanation. Y/N opened her mouth to speak, but before she could, Lucy chimed in, her eyes wide with curiosity.

"Were you guys on a date?" Lucy blurted out, the question hanging in the air like a bomb waiting to explode.

Tim felt his face flush, the color rising from his neck to his ears. Y/N seemed equally flustered, though she quickly tried to recover.

"Uh, we were just… grabbing a bite to eat," Y/N said, her voice a little too casual.

"Yeah, just happened to be in the right place at the right time," Tim added, though his tone didn’t quite carry the confidence he hoped for.

Nolan raised an eyebrow, a slow grin spreading across his face. "A bite to eat? In suits and fancy dresses?"

Harper crossed her arms, clearly amused. "Right place, right time, huh? Sounds more like a date to me."

Y/N sighed, knowing they were caught. "Fine, it was a date. But in our defence, we didn’t expect to be playing hero tonight."

"Well, you certainly picked a memorable first date," Aaron remarked with a smirk, looking at the subdued robber. "Though, maybe next time choose a place that’s less likely to get held up."

Lucy’s eyes sparkled with excitement. "I knew it! I knew there was something going on between you two!"

Tim shot her a look, though there was no real heat behind it. "Can we maybe focus on the fact that we just stopped a robbery?"

Harper chuckled, clearly enjoying the situation. "Sure, Bradford. But you know this is going to be all over the station by morning."

Y/N groaned, rubbing her forehead. "Great. Just what I wanted."

Nolan grinned, clapping Tim on the shoulder. "Hey, at least you didn’t have to pay for dinner."

Tim couldn’t help but laugh, shaking his head. "Yeah, I guess there’s that, still get to keep the two hundred in the budget."

As their colleagues began to process the scene and take the suspect away, Y/N leaned in close to Tim, her voice low and playful. "So, how about round two? Somewhere a little less public?"

Tim’s eyes lit up with a mix of humour and affection. "Sounds perfect. And maybe this time we can actually finish a meal."

As Tim and Y/N walk out of the restaurant, still riding the adrenaline from the robbery, Tim glances at her with a playful grin. “So, any ideas for our second date? Preferably somewhere without armed robbers?”

Y/N laughs, shaking her head. “Yeah, I think we’ve had enough excitement for one night. How about something a little more low-key? Maybe a quiet dinner at my place? I make a mean lasagna.”

Tim’s eyes light up at the suggestion, and he nods. “That sounds perfect. But just so you know, I’m bringing dessert.”

“Deal,” Y/N replies, smiling warmly. “And this time, let’s keep our badges out of sight.”

They exchange a look filled with anticipation, both eager for a date that will hopefully be free of interruptions—and a chance to really get to know each other.

Taglist:

@callsign-magnolia

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@pandabiiissh

@mattsdirtylittlehoe

@siriuslyblackonback

@reignsboy19

@taina-eny

@billy-reads

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@justabigassnerd

@callsign-dexter

@kmc1989

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@rosiahills22

#the rookie #the rookie abc #the rookie fic #the rookie fanfic #the rookie imagine #tim bradford #tim bradford the rookie #tim bradford fic #tim bradford x reader #tim bradford x you #tim bradford x y/n #tim bradford imagine #tim bradford x fem!reader

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felassan · 6 months ago

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The Slightest Ones bard song:

Arlathan fell so deep onto the ocean floor

Dalish elven lore:

"It is said that the Tevinter magisters used their great destructive power to force the very ground to swallow Arlathan whole"

The Adventures of the Black Fox by Gaston Gerrault:

"The stories all agree that, at some point, the Black Fox disappeared: He and his fellow adventurers voyaged into the heart of the Arlathan forest seeking the sunken city of the elves and never returned"

Solas dialogue:

"Imagine [...] palaces floating among the clouds."

Codex entry: Vir Dirthara: Homecoming

"a city of glass spires so deeply blue they ache. The city's outskirts are wrapped in lakes of mist, and figures stroll along the pearly, glowing strips as if they walked on solid ground [...] other elves walk below a river churning along an invisible shoal in the air."

Tevinter tries to mimic some ancient elvhen magic and Minrathous has a floating castle.

Location in Dragon Age: The Veilguard -

Arlathan Crater: one, two, three

Definitions of "crater":

- a landform consisting of a hole or depression on a planetary surface, usually caused either by an object hitting the surface, or by geological activity on the planet - a bowl-shaped pit that is formed by a volcano, an explosion, or a meteorite impact

Was the city of Arlathan a floating city kept aloft by ancient elvhen magic in a way that was intrinsically dependent on the presence of the Fade, and when the Veil was erected, with that tie severed it crashed to the ground like an asteroid? Did the ground swallow it whole? When Solas created the Veil, in that reshaping of reality was it physically spacetime-displaced deep into the heart of the Fade? When he made the Veil, did it "fall" (warp) into the Deep Roads like the elven library found by Genitivi in Genitivi Dies in the End? Did it fall to the bottom of the ocean? Did it fall into the other ocean, the Fade (the "Waters of the Fade", "the sea of dreams", the "emerald waters", "vast oceans, containing not water, but memories")? The Fade sort've reflects reality and is shaped by dreams, so is The City [by this I mean The Golden/Black City] the Fade-mirror-image or echo of Arlathan as opposed to literally physically it? the wild and fun thing about Dragon Age is that more than one of these things could be true at once.

ᕕ( ᐛ )ᕗ

#dragon age: the veilguard #dragon age: dreadwolf #dragon age 4 #the dread wolf rises #da4 #dragon age #bioware #solas #video games #dragon age: tevinter nights #idk what this post is or what its saying other than excitement hhhh aaaaa #long post #longpost #gpoy

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astrosouldivinity · 22 days ago

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𝑾𝒊𝒄𝒌𝒆𝒅: 𝑨 𝑹𝒆𝒇𝒍𝒆𝒄𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏 𝒐𝒏 𝑹𝒂𝒄𝒆 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝑨𝒍𝒍𝒚𝒔𝒉𝒊𝒑

~ 𝚃𝚑𝚎𝚢 𝚆𝚊𝚗𝚝 𝙾𝚞𝚛 𝚁𝚑𝚢𝚝𝚑𝚖 𝙱𝚞𝚝 𝙽𝚘𝚝 𝙾𝚞𝚛 𝙱𝚕𝚞𝚎𝚜

🧹I had the opportunity to see Wicked, and it was an emotional experience that resonated deeply with me. The movie serves as a poignant mirror to our current social climate in America, particularly regarding how Black women are treated because of systemic racism. Here are my insights.

✴︎ 𖦹 ✴︎ 𖦹 ✴︎ 𖦹 ✴︎ 𖦹 ✴︎ 𖦹 ✴︎ 𖦹 ✴︎ 𖦹 ✴︎ 𖦹 ✴︎ 𖦹 ✴︎ 𖦹 ✴︎ 𖦹 ✴︎

✯ As a Black woman, Wicked resonated deeply with me. I couldn't think of a better actress to portray Elphaba than Cynthia Erivo, who channels her experiences as a Black woman into the role in a way that feels both authentic and powerful. Elphaba embodies the struggles and resilience of marginalized identities (Black women), illustrating how society often seeks to harness our magic without truly valuing us. People recognize our power but attempt to appropriate it for their own gain, failing to uplift us or give credit where it’s due. This creates a sense of entitlement and a lack of genuine investment in our well-being.

✴︎ 𖦹 ✴︎ 𖦹 ✴︎ 𖦹 ✴︎ 𖦹 ✴︎ 𖦹 ✴︎ 𖦹 ✴︎ 𖦹 ✴︎ 𖦹 ✴︎ 𖦹 ✴︎ 𖦹 ✴︎ 𖦹 ✴︎

✯ Glinda is a representation of the many performative allies I've encountered. Those who appear “nice” but whose kindness is ultimately superficial. They cling to their privilege and are unwilling to sacrifice it, even at the cost of the collective progress. It’s disheartening to realize that what seems like allyship is often a self-serving facade; you become a tool for them, prioritized only when it benefits their interests. Their support feels performative, as if they expect gratitude for merely acknowledging your existence. Glinda treats Elphaba like a token or pet even, enforcing an unspoken power dynamic that keeps Elphaba beneath her.

✯ Glinda is a coward; she desires to be seen as kind, yet her actions reveal otherwise. To her, maintaining power is more important than doing the right thing. Without her status, who is Glinda? This context reflects the lyrics from "Defying Gravity": “I hope you're proud how you would grovel in submission to feed your own ambition.” It perfectly captures the essence of performative allyship. She complicitly contributes to the suffering of others while projecting a facade of goodness. The saying goes, "The road to hell is paved with good intentions." Glinda is, in a sense, brainwashed; she is unable to see reality because she genuinely believes in the inherent goodness of the world. In contrast, Elphaba understands the harsh truth, shaped by her experiences of being an outcast and rejected by society.

✴︎ 𖦹 ✴︎ 𖦹 ✴︎ 𖦹 ✴︎ 𖦹 ✴︎ 𖦹 ✴︎ 𖦹 ✴︎ 𖦹 ✴︎ 𖦹 ✴︎ 𖦹 ✴︎ 𖦹 ✴︎ 𖦹 ✴︎

✯ Emerald City wants to embody green but simultaneously vilifies Elphaba for being green herself. This parallel reflects how society often appropriates Black culture while rejecting Black people themselves. Throughout the movie, we see how easily people can paint you as the villain and undervalue you, undermining your capabilities no matter your qualifications. This narrative resonates with the experiences of many Black women who face constant scrutiny and doubt, even when they prove their worth time and again. Elphaba’s journey highlights the struggle against these unjust perceptions and the resilience required to rise above them.

✴︎ 𖦹 ✴︎ 𖦹 ✴︎ 𖦹 ✴︎ 𖦹 ✴︎ 𖦹 ✴︎ 𖦹 ✴︎ 𖦹 ✴︎ 𖦹 ✴︎ 𖦹 ✴︎ 𖦹 ✴︎ 𖦹 ✴︎

✯ Marginalized for her skin color, Elphaba is made to feel inferior for being different. Yet, despite this, she shows empathy and compassion for those who lack it for her. Her ability to extend kindness in the face of adversity highlights her strength and resilience. This juxtaposition emphasizes the unfairness of her situation, as she navigates a world that often dehumanizes her while still choosing to uplift others. Elphaba's journey serves as a powerful reminder that true strength lies not only in overcoming one's struggles but also in maintaining compassion for those who may not understand or appreciate your worth.

✯ In “Defying Gravity,” Elphaba discovers that the minimal allies she thought she had were actually using her for their own selfish desires. Yet, she transcends above this betrayal, ultimately realizing her own power and ability to shape her own destiny. Similarly, in “Dancing Through Life,” Elphaba’s unique expression only gains validation through Glinda’s approval, highlighting how Glinda could have used her privilege to challenge the Wizard but consciously chose not to.

✯ Ultimately, Wicked invites us to reflect on the importance of authentic allyship and the responsibility that comes with privilege. It challenges us to examine how we can uplift marginalized voices rather than exploiting them for our own narratives. While the themes of this movie resonate with the current political climate in America, it can extend beyond just the Black experience; however, I find the parallels to be undeniably distinctive nonetheless.

✴︎ 𖦹 ✴︎ 𖦹 ✴︎ 𖦹 ✴︎ 𖦹 ✴︎ 𖦹 ✴︎ 𖦹 ✴︎ 𖦹 ✴︎ 𖦹 ✴︎ 𖦹 ✴︎ 𖦹 ✴︎ 𖦹 ✴︎

✯ I would love to hear your perspectives on how the movie resonated with you and what feelings it evoked. Art is a reflection of life, and there’s so much you can learn from it. ☺️

𝔁𝓸𝔁𝓸- 𝓚𝓲𝓴𝓲 (𝚊𝚜𝚝𝚛𝚘𝚜𝚘𝚞𝚕𝚍𝚒𝚟𝚒𝚗𝚒𝚝𝚢) 🩷💚

𝙼𝚊𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚕𝚒𝚜𝚝 📋

• 𝙸’𝚖 𝚌𝚘𝚗𝚜𝚒𝚍𝚎𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚜𝚑𝚊𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚖𝚘𝚛𝚎 𝚛𝚎𝚏𝚕𝚎𝚌𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗𝚜 𝚘𝚗 𝚖𝚎𝚍𝚒𝚊 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚊𝚛𝚝 𝚒𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚏𝚞𝚝𝚞𝚛𝚎. 𝙰𝚜 𝚊 ��𝚎𝚖𝚒𝚗𝚒 𝚖𝚘𝚘𝚗, 𝙸 𝚕𝚘𝚟𝚎 𝚝𝚘 𝚎𝚡𝚙𝚕𝚘𝚛𝚎 𝚊 𝚟𝚊𝚛𝚒𝚎𝚝𝚢 𝚘𝚏 𝚝𝚘𝚙𝚒𝚌𝚜, 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚊𝚛𝚎 𝚜𝚘 𝚖𝚊𝚗𝚢 𝚍𝚒𝚏𝚏𝚎𝚛𝚎𝚗𝚝 𝚜𝚞𝚋𝚓𝚎𝚌𝚝𝚜 𝙸 𝚌𝚘𝚞𝚕𝚍 𝚍𝚒𝚜𝚌𝚞𝚜𝚜. 𝙸𝚝’𝚜 𝚐𝚎𝚗𝚞𝚒𝚗𝚎𝚕𝚢 𝚎𝚗𝚍𝚕𝚎𝚜𝚜, 𝚕𝚘𝚕!

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celebtf · 1 month ago

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Fiyero And The Wizard

The Emerald City glimmered in the fading sunlight as Fiyero sat by the window of the train, his excitement nearly tangible. He had received a personal invitation to meet the Wizard of Oz himself, a rare and extraordinary honor. Elphaba had warned him against trusting the Wizard, but curiosity and hope for answers had driven him to accept the invitation. Perhaps the Wizard wanted to make amends for the chaos he had caused in their lives.

The train screeched to a halt at the station, and Fiyero stepped off, greeted by the bustling streets of the Emerald City. He marveled at the shimmering green buildings and the vibrant crowd as he made his way to the Wizard’s castle. The guards at the entrance stepped aside without question, and the massive doors creaked open, revealing a grand, candlelit hall.

At the far end, the Wizard stood, draped in his signature robes. His gloved hands clutched an ancient, ornate book—the Grimmery, a tome of forbidden magic.

“Fiyero!” the Wizard greeted with a disarming smile. “It is an honor to finally meet you face to face.”

Fiyero approached cautiously, bowing slightly out of respect. “The honor is mine, sir. But why have you called me here?”

The Wizard’s smile grew, though something unsettling lingered in his eyes. “You have a charm about you, Fiyero. A natural charisma that I believe the people of Oz need... desperately.” He gestured to the Grimmery. “I have a proposition. Join me, and together we can bring order to this land. We can rid it of chaos and those who threaten our way of life. Starting with Elphaba.”

Fiyero’s chest tightened at the mention of her name. He shook his head firmly. “I won’t betray her. I won’t be a part of whatever you’re planning.”

The Wizard sighed, his expression darkening. “I had hoped you would see reason. No matter. There are other ways.”

Before Fiyero could react, a high-pitched screech echoed through the hall. A winged monkey darted out from the shadows—Chesery, the Wizard’s loyal servant. In a blur, Chesery pounced, restraining Fiyero with alarming strength. The monkey’s claws dug into his arms as ropes appeared, binding him tightly.

“What are you doing?” Fiyero struggled, his voice laced with panic.

The Wizard ignored him, opening the Grimmery and flipping through its pages. Ancient symbols glowed on the parchment, and his voice grew low and guttural as he began to chant in an unfamiliar language

Fiyero watched in horror as the Wizard’s transformation unfolded before his eyes. The older man’s features shifted and smoothed like clay under an unseen sculptor’s hands. Wrinkles faded, leaving a youthful glow, and his once-proud frame shrank slightly, adjusting to match Fiyero’s lean build. His gray hair lightened in streaks, cascading into shades of rich brown and golden blond.

As the glow of magic dissipated, the Wizard stepped back from the Grimmery, his face now identical to Fiyero’s. It was perfect—eerily perfect. The bound prince couldn’t look away, dread curdling in his stomach as if he were staring into a twisted reflection of himself.

The Wizard opened his eyes, catching his new appearance in the grand mirror before him. He let out a low chuckle, his voice now Fiyero’s smooth, confident tone. “Oh, this... this is exquisite.”

He tilted his head to one side, examining himself with almost theatrical enthusiasm. Running a hand over his jawline, he smirked. “Such symmetry. No wonder the ladies—and perhaps even a few gentlemen—fall over themselves for you. This face alone is enough to make kingdoms bow, isn’t it?”

Fiyero snarled, straining against the ropes. “Stop this! You’ll never get away with it!”

“Oh, but I already have,” the Wizard shot back, not even sparing him a glance. He was too busy admiring his reflection, tracing his cheekbones and brushing his fingers over his lips. “And these lips...” He let out an exaggerated sigh, puckering them playfully. “So... kissable. Do you practice this in the mirror, Fiyero? Or does it just come naturally?”

He turned sharply, striding toward Fiyero with newfound grace. His movements were fluid, confident—a predator who knew his prey was already caught. Standing inches away, he gestured to his chest with a flourish. “And look at this,” he said, tugging his collar slightly to reveal the firm definition beneath his shirt. “Your body’s built like it’s been sculpted by the gods themselves. How do you find the time to stay this... perfect?”

Fiyero clenched his jaw, refusing to give the Wizard the satisfaction of a response.

But the Wizard was far from finished. His hands traveled down to his stomach, where he gave an exaggerated gasp. “Oh, my! These abs!” He patted his stomach mockingly, then flexed, his smirk widening as he felt the firm ridges under his fingertips. “I didn’t realize you were hiding such a masterpiece under those princely clothes. No wonder Elphaba can’t resist you. Who could?”

Fiyero’s struggles grew more frantic. “You’re a coward, hiding behind my face! You’ll never be me!”

The Wizard barked a laugh, stepping back into the light to examine his thighs and legs. “Oh, Fiyero, I don’t need to ‘be’ you. I only need to wear you.” He leaned down, running his hands over his thighs and giving another exaggerated whistle. “And these legs. Strong. Sturdy. Built for running... or perhaps something else entirely?” He waggled his eyebrows, his mocking laugh echoing through the hall.

“You’re disgusting,” Fiyero spat, his voice shaking with fury.

“Disgusting?” The Wizard tilted his head in mock confusion before grinning slyly. “No, my dear boy. Disgusting is what I’d call letting a body like this go to waste. But don’t worry. I’ll make the most of it.”

He turned his attention to his backside, giving it an exaggerated pat. “And this,” he said, smirking as he glanced over his shoulder. “Well, let’s just say it’ll be the talk of the Emerald City soon enough. I’m sure even the guards will be doing double-takes. Tell me, Fiyero—have you ever noticed how perfectly this uniform frames... everything?”

Fiyero seethed, his face burning with anger and humiliation.

The Wizard bent closer, his voice dropping to a low, taunting whisper. “It must feel awful, doesn’t it? Watching yourself—your body, your charm—become mine. Knowing there’s nothing you can do to stop me.” He stood upright again, laughing softly. “And the best part? When I’m done, the world will thank me for it. They’ll love me. They’ll love you.”

Turning back to the mirror, the Wizard struck a dramatic pose, adjusting the collar of his blue and gold outfit with a flourish. “Well, Fiyero, it’s been delightful getting to know myself.” He laughed at his own joke. “But I think it’s time for you to disappear.”

“Chesery!” he called, his tone snapping into command. The winged monkey appeared from the shadows, bowing low. “Take him away. Somewhere no one will ever find him. Somewhere he’ll have plenty of time to think about just how perfect I look.”

Chesery seized Fiyero, dragging him toward the shadows despite his desperate struggles.

The Wizard—now Fiyero—watched them go, his smirk widening as the real Fiyero’s protests faded into silence. Turning to the mirror one last time, he admired his stolen reflection, running a hand over his hair and tilting his head with a grin.

“Oz,” he whispered to himself, his voice laced with triumph. “You’re about to meet your perfect hero.”

With that, he turned on his heel and strode toward the castle doors, radiating the effortless charm that only Fiyero Tiggular could muster.

There would be no resistance, no rebellion. No happy ending for anyone.

He had succeeded.

And the world of Oz would never be the same.

#celebrity tf #celebtf #body swap #gay #male shapeshift #character transformation #body switch #transformation #male body suit #malebody swap #wicked #jonathan bailey #fiyero tigelaar

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dorabellingham · 11 days ago

Text

Christmas lunch

warning: none

characters: jude x fem!reader

summary: when you go to Real Madrid's famous end-of-year lunch and he takes the opportunity to introduce you to the team

request: yes!

may contain spelling and translation errors!

Your and Jude’s first Christmas together in Madrid was a special event. It was the first time you celebrated the holidays as a couple living outside of England, far from the family traditions you had both grown up with. The Christmas atmosphere in the Spanish city was different, but no less magical. Trees were lit up in the squares, the streets were bustling, and you were looking forward to a special reason: the traditional Real Madrid Christmas lunch, where you would meet Jude’s teammates and some of their families.

On the morning of the lunch, you were standing in front of the mirror, adjusting your emerald green dress, which was simply cut but elegant. Jude, sitting on the bed already dressed in a wool shirt and impeccable black tailored pants, watched his girlfriend with an admiring smile.

—You look amazing, babe. —He said, standing up to hug you from behind. —The guys are going to die of envy.

You laughed, a little nervously.

—I hope they like me... You know, I don't want to be just 'Jude's girlfriend'. I want them to see that I'm fun too.

—Trust me. —He replied, kissing the top of your head. —You're going to be the star of the lunch. Everyone will love you.

You left the house and, on the way to the event venue, you tried to relax, but your nervousness was evident. When you arrived, the reserved restaurant was beautifully decorated, with shades of gold and red, and a party atmosphere took over the place. As soon as you entered, you were warmly welcomed by Jude's teammates and their families.

The first to approach was Dani Carvajal, who smiled hugely when she saw Jude.

—Finally brought your girlfriend, huh, Bellingham? —He said, greeting her with two little kisses on the cheek. —Nice to meet you, Y/n. He only talks about you, you know?

You smiled awkwardly.

—Nice to meet you, Dani. I hope he only says good things.

—Oh, it depends on the day.

Dani joked, making everyone laugh.

Vinícius Jr. soon approached with his contagious energy. He hugged Jude as if they were brothers and then greeted you.

—So you’re the famous Y/n? Girl, Jude never shuts up about how amazing you are.

You laughed, feeling more at ease with the Brazilian’s relaxed manner.

—I hope I don’t disappoint after all this publicity.

—Impossible. —He replied, winking. —Welcome to our little chaos.

During lunch, you noticed how united the team was. Luka Modrić, with his calm and friendly manner, asked about your life in Madrid and how you were adapting. Eduardo Camavinga, young like Jude, made you laugh by telling you stories from behind the scenes of training. Even Carlo Ancelotti, the coach, made a point of greeting you.

When the main course was served, Vinícius Jr, who was really excited, raised a glass and made a brief toast to celebrate the team spirit and family.

—And to Y/n. —He added with a smile. —Who is already part of our family for being our Jude’s soulmate.

You blushed, but thanked him with a shy smile. Jude, next to you, squeezed your hand discreetly under the table.

While everyone was talking and laughing, Jude leaned towards you.

—See? I told you you would do well. They already love you, love.

You smiled, leaning towards him.

—They are amazing. But I still think I’m here because I’m your girlfriend.

Jude chuckled softly.

—You are my girlfriend, but that doesn’t mean you’re not a star on your own. Look how they’re laughing at your jokes.

You looked at the table, where Dani, Vinícius and Camavinga were laughing at something you had said moments before. It was true. You felt accepted, more than you expected.

After lunch, while the players took pictures with their families and joked around with each other, you and Jude posed together for a photo. He put his arm around your waist, while you smiled for the camera.

—First Christmas together in Madrid!

He said softly, looking at you.

—And the first of many!

You replied, leaning your head on his shoulder.

When you got home that night, you took off your shoes and threw yourself on the couch, relieved and happy.

—They’re so nice, Jude. It was so much better than I expected.

Jude sat down next to you, pulling you into his arms.

—I knew it would be like this. You win everyone over without even trying, sweetie.

You sighed, satisfied.

—You know, I was afraid I wouldn’t feel at home here in Madrid. But I guess, with you and the people around us, it’s starting to feel like my place.

Jude kissed the top of your head, smiling.

—Because it’s your place. Wherever we are, Y/n, you’ll always be my home.

And so, your first Christmas together in Madrid became an unforgettable memory, a milestone in the beginning of the new life you were building together.

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novaursa · 3 months ago

Note

can you please write something with the reader being the queen of a far away kingdom that is kinda similar to the targaryen house but instead of dragons they have elike either magic or something. and reader ends up befriending rhaenyra which has the reader being a very powerful ally and the greens notice this , with alicent still wanting to steal the throne but otto is like “…nahhhh” , so rhaenyra becomes queen with the reader there and just standing all badass and stuff kinda comedic if you can please

The Witch Queen

- Summary: You arrive from faraway land to aid Rhaenyra before her rightful claim is stolen.

- Paring: female!reader/Rhaenyra Targaryen

- Note: This might be slightly darker than you asked for, but the spooky season vibes guided me with this one. I hope you still like it, dear anon. 🙂

- Rating: Mature 16+

- Next part: long live the queen

- Tag(s): @sachaa-ff @alyssa-dayne @oxymakestheworldgoround

The wind carried a sharp, briny scent from the sea as your ship glided through the dark waters toward the docks of King's Landing, its shadow stretching ominously beneath the moonlit sky. The black sails of your fleet billowed against the midnight horizon, a ghostly procession that had gone unnoticed until now. No banners heralded your arrival, no horns sounded from the walls of the Red Keep. The city slept in ignorance of the storm you had brought.

At your side, your court stood with heads held high, their violet eyes gleaming in the moonlight, their pale, silver-gold hair swept back in intricate braids that mirrored your own. House Tyvarella was not accustomed to formalities that belonged to lesser kings or the pious men of Westeros. You were the Queen of a realm far older than this one, a survivor of Valyria’s doom, and there was no need for permission to make yourself known.

As you stepped onto the cobblestones, the whispers from the shadows began to ripple. The common folk had heard the tales—stories of your house, the blood mages of Tyvarella, feared even by those who once tamed dragons. To those of the Faith of the Seven, you were a creature from their darkest myths, a figure woven into the very fabric of their nightmares. And now, you were here, at the heart of their crumbling kingdom.

“The night brings ill omens,” Otto Hightower muttered, his hands wringing in that nervous, meticulous way of his. He stood by a flickering torchlight, watching as your procession marched through the streets toward the Red Keep. His face was pale, his eyes narrowed in a mixture of wariness and disgust. “They come as vultures, Alicent, like specters summoned by death itself. We need to leave, now.”

Alicent Hightower, now Dowager Queen, stood by his side, her delicate fingers gripping the edges of her gown as if holding herself together. Her emerald eyes, though wary, flickered with a strange curiosity as she gazed at your retinue. “They were not expected, not invited… What are they doing here?”

“Nothing good, I assure you,” Otto responded with grim certainty. “King Viserys is dead. They arrive just as his breath fades. They bring with them blood magic and ruin. If we stay—”

A distant sound cut through the air, carried on the wind—the solemn toll of bells echoing across the city. Viserys was gone. The king had breathed his last.

Alicent's breath hitched as the realization washed over her. Her husband, the father of her children, the king, was dead. And here you stood, arriving at this precise moment, as if heralding the change to come.

But her eyes strayed, flickering toward the upper windows of the Red Keep. Through the torch-lit chambers, she caught a glimpse of another figure—Rhaenyra. The Princess had been kept behind, confined within the castle after that last bitter feast Viserys had demanded, the one after Vaemond Velaryon met his end.

Rhaenyra stood by the window now, her gaze drawn irresistibly to you. Alicent noticed it in an instant, the way her rival, her stepdaughter, leaned closer to the glass, watching your every movement with a deep, unspoken longing. Rhaenyra’s eyes were fixed on you, even from this distance, her expression one of unmistakable hunger and fascination.

“Do you see that?” Alicent whispered, her voice tight. “She… she looks at her.”

Otto followed her gaze, his lips tightening. “Rhaenyra’s drawn to power,” he said dismissively, though a hint of concern tugged at his tone. “It’s in her blood. But this... this is different. Tyvarella’s magic is ancient, forbidden. If she aligns herself with them, it will be disastrous.”

Alicent felt a wave of unease roll through her, but before she could respond, the heavy gates of the Red Keep groaned open, and you stepped inside. The room fell into a hush, as if the very stones of the castle were holding their breath. You entered without ceremony, your violet eyes scanning the gathering of lords and courtiers, none of whom dared meet your gaze directly.

And then, you saw her.

Rhaenyra.

She descended the grand staircase, her silken black gown flowing behind her like the wings of a raven. Her silver hair glowed in the candlelight, and her lips were parted ever so slightly, as if tasting the air between you. The tension in the room coiled tight, palpable.

When your eyes met hers, the world seemed to fall away.

You had seen her before, of course. But this… this was different. Here, in this moment of death and turmoil, the connection between you felt like a thread of fire, burning through the distance between you both. Her breath hitched as she came to stand before you, her gaze never leaving yours.

“Y/N,” Rhaenyra whispered, her voice soft yet carrying a weight that pulled at something deep inside of you. “You came.”

“I did,” you replied, your voice steady, though the sight of her stirred something untamed within you. “I came as soon as I sensed it. Viserys is gone, and now… the realm will fall to chaos.”

Her lips tightened into a thin line, pain flashing in her eyes at the mention of her father, but she didn’t look away. “They’ll come for me. For my children.”

“And they’ll have to go through me first.”

Rhaenyra’s eyes darkened at your words, the weight of your promise settling over her like a shield. Her hand, pale and trembling, reached out ever so slightly, as if testing the waters between you. And then, without another word, she placed it in yours.

A murmur spread through the room. Alicent stiffened where she stood, her face pale as the dawn.

Otto watched in silence, his mind already racing, already calculating. He knew what this meant. He knew that your presence here was more than a disruption. It was a declaration.

“We should have left when we had the chance,” he muttered, just loud enough for Alicent to hear. “Now it’s too late.”

Rhaenyra squeezed your hand, her fingers warm despite the cool air. “Will you stay?”

Your lips curved into a small, knowing smile. “For as long as you need me.”

#house of the dragon #hotd x reader #hotd #hotd x y/n #hotd x you #rhaenyra x reader #rhaenyra x y/n #rhaenyra x you #rhaenyra x female reader #rhaenyra targaryen #queen rhaenyra

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gucciwins · 11 months ago

Text

The Lucky One

Word count: 11510

A/N: My sweet friends! I hope you're still excited for this story, even after all the time I had you wait. Life was hectic and finding time to write has been difficult. It's fitting that I posted this a year ago, and now posting the update a year later. Happy reading!!!

Warning: smut, female pleasure, phone sex, (brief use of Daddy)

Gala After Gala

please come tell me your favorite part

Harry was banned from the bathroom because he was a distraction. Y/N had been stuck doing her mascara for over ten minutes because he made a silly face at her every time she looked in the mirror. Y/N banished him to wait in her bedroom. He decided to look in her closet, wanting to pick her outfit for the night, and noticed how empty it was beside her winter coats hanging in the back, taking up most of the space.

“Beauty?” He called for her.

Y/N answered with a soft “Yes, love?”

Harry asked her what was going on in his head. “Where’s your emerald dress?”

“It was Sapra’s. She let me borrow it.”

“And the black one with the long slit,” Harry asks while continuing to look between every piece of clothing she has.

Y/N comes out of the restroom, hair perfectly curled and lips glossed. He can’t wait to kiss it away. Harry already knows she’s wearing her new favorite gloss, with hints of strawberry. Harry knows because he tested it out for her, ensuring it was a long-lasting taste and not only a smell sold by companies to trick her.

“Dawn’s sister.”

Harry frowns. Y/N attends endless galas, and each dress she wears looks like they were made for her and her alone. Yet, he’s only discovering that most of them were never hers. “The yellow one?”

“Dry cleaners!”

He breathes out a sigh of relief. While Harry knows Y/N might not have much space here, they act as if they don’t spend most of their time at Harry’s, where many of her items have started accumulating. Harry has begun to buy her favorite milk (Oat) and her favorite shampoo (Coconut scent) to have stocked. It has become her place as much as it is his. He knew he could make a closet hers. He hates that he hadn’t thought of it sooner.

“Beauty, I thought they were all yours,” Harry stares at Y/N while she puts in her earrings for the night. “Are you telling me I’ll never see that baby pink dress?”

Y/N rolls her eyes at his dramatics, kissing his cheek as she exits the bedroom. “That’s only for special occasions.” Y/N wore it for her graduation. A midi pink dress with flowers embroidered up the sides and sleeves. Harry could not keep his hands to himself that night, not that she minded. It’d been tucked away for a few weeks until Harry whisked her away to Italy and Greece as a Graduation present, where they spent weeks exploring new cities and kissing on every cobblestone street.

He trails behind her like a lost puppy. “Personally, think every moment with you is special.”

Y/N steps into her heels by the door, but before she can reach down, Harry is kneeling on one knee, placing her foot on his thigh to tighten the strap for her. Harry makes her fall more in love with him each day. Those three words seem to hover around them, but neither of them ever says them because it is told with each action, each kiss. “Thank you, honey.”

He kisses her calf before placing it back on the floor. “All ready, Beauty?”

“Let’s go eat!”

It’s not every day that they get dressed up for dinner, but Harry is leaving on a three-week trip and wants to take her out on a date before they move to Facetime calls and late-night texts. Harry had tried to convince her to come, but work would not let her. Not when she was planning for two different galas to take place in three months.

Dinner was delicious. Y/N was so hungry she cleaned off her plate. She always saved a bit to have leftovers the day after for her lunch, but Harry was gracious and ordered a meal for tomorrow. It didn’t surprise her how well Harry was able to read her.

She was strolling behind Harry, eating the ice cream they stopped to get after she told him she was craving something sweet. Harry kissed her and promised they’d stop by the shop two streets from her apartment. He was leading the way into her flat, telling her to get ready for bed, and he’d turn on an episode of Derry Girls for them. It was one of her most-watched series, and Harry enjoyed the humor.

“Nooo, I want to watch an episode of Ghost Files,” she yells from her bathroom.

Harry sighs because he knows this means she’s not tired. She wouldn’t dare to sleep through it because she loves Shane’s dumb commentary. While Y/N promises she doesn’t believe in ghosts, she is also the type to never put herself in any scary or off-setting situation.

Y/N comes in, rubbing moisturizer down her neck, and smiles when she sees a familiar episode playing. “Perfect.” She steps close to Harry, kisses him, and makes him promise to be quick in the restroom because she is ready for cuddles. Harry tried his best to be fast but enjoyed his night routine. He also had to double-check that he had everything packed for his flight tomorrow, not wanting to make a stop at home tomorrow that would have him leave Y/N sooner than he needed to.

By the time he entered the bedroom, Derry Girls was playing, and Y/N was fighting off sleep.

“You took forever,” she mumbled against her silk pillow.

He gave her a dimpled grin and cuddled close to her side. “You love to remind me how important my nightly routine is. That I can’t skip around. Something about my wrinkles,” Harry teases.

Y/N rolls her eyes, laying her head on his chest. “No wrinkles. Maybe some white hairs are coming in, but I think you’d be a sexy silver fox.”

Harry breathes out a laugh, “think I’m that old?”

“You’re perfect,” she pecks his lips.

“Think you’re perfect, too. So perfect for me,” Harry tells her.

Y/N had never felt peace like this, to feel so at home with a partner. Harry showed her how much he cared for her every single day. The ease she felt around him allowed her to be herself the entire time, with no facade, no excuses on why she wasn’t getting ready. Harry had seen her at her best and worst and still chooses her every day.

There are three words on the tip of her tongue dying to come out, but instead, she slips off to sleep in her lover’s arms.

Morning came far too soon for Y/N’s liking; usually, she wakes up feeling rested, but this morning, she felt like she tossed and turned all night. Harry, at one point, had to hold her tight against his chest because she was squirming around too much. She apologized, and thankfully, his heartbeat lulled her back to sleep. Now she’s up at six am watching Harry get ready to drive himself to the airport. She had requested to drive him, but Harry didn’t want her to deal with all the traffic madness that went on there. He also knew walking away from her at the airport would be harder. He’d be too tempted to stay in the car and ask her to drive home. Harry loved spending time with Y/N, and since officially being together, they have only gone a few hours apart. Saying goodbye was hard, and he wasn’t looking forward to doing that today.

She got up with him, with sleep still in her eyes, and while Harry went to do a quick rundown of his skincare, Y/N made him a cup of coffee; he bought her some of his specially imported beans from Columbia once he learned she enjoyed it. Harry told her she made the best cups of coffee; while she didn’t know if that was true, she was happy to do something for him.

Y/N sat on her counter, watching him collect his belongings and line them up nicely at the door. He had an order for everything. She knew he kept a packing list because he always feared forgetting something. He knew he had overpacked for this trip because he would be stopping to visit Mum and sister. Y/N thought it was sweet. Y/N had spoken with them over Facetime, but there’s nothing like meeting in person, and if all things went well, she knew she’d be meeting them over the holidays.

She wasn’t used to the quiet of her apartment because Harry always had music playing. He saw she had a record player and bought a bunch of his favorites for her to listen to. She told him she hardly used it because it was a housewarming gift from her brother, Matias, who got it for cheap at an estate sale. When Harry was staying over, there was always a record from Joni Mitchell to Prince.

“You got to call me when you land,” she says, breaking the silence.

“It’ll only be two here, just in time for your break.”

Y/N doesn’t hide her grin, knowing he had already checked their time difference. “Five days in London, and then off to Scotland.”

Harry nods because they both know she has his schedule memorized. He left her a list of contacts she could reach in case of an emergency, and he wasn’t available (he always would be). “Correct, Beauty. Do you want me to bring you back something? Cookies, a bag, or pearls.”

“Only want you.”

“I’ll surprise you,” Harry promises, knowing he’ll stop at his favorite shops to get her something nice to make up for his time away.

Harry steps towards her, sitting on the counter. He places one hand on her waist and the other on her cheek and pulls her in for a kiss. His lips are soft and taste sweet, like his coffee. She sighs against him, not ready to separate, but he gives her one last kiss, telling her he has to put his bags away in the car.

She watches him take two trips while double-checking his carry-on, not wanting to forget his passport, something he’s expressed he’s done more than once. On his final trip, Harry is in the car packing it in. Y/N has moved to lean against the doorframe, watching him fit his luggage in a car too small for two suitcases. There’s a heaviness in her chest, knowing she won’t see him for 21 days. There will be no kisses, no hugs, and no lunch together. Not even a sweet morning wake-up call.

It’s going to be a lonely few days.

Y/N can admit she’s become a bit dependent on spending time with Harry, but she doesn’t think it’s terrible. She still goes to work, hangs out with her friends, and gets her nails done, where she catches up on her favorite podcast, The Happiness Lab, but ends her days in Harry’s arms. He truly has become one of her best friends. While no one could ever replace Sapra, Harry and Y/N shared another level of intimacy. She was thankful to have him in her life.

“What is it, beauty?” Harry asks, stepping toward her, looking beautiful. It’s unfair he wakes up looking this pretty with his messy hair and growing stubble. She knows it’s only three weeks, but she will miss him and wants him to know. Harry caresses her cheek, and she can’t help but lean into his warm touch.

“I’m going to miss you,” Y/N breathes out.

“Miss me or my king-sized bed,” he teases. He told her to stay at his house if she wanted but that she’d miss him less at her apartment. She knew that was a lie; she saw him in everything in her home. Harry had left a touch on everything she had ever owned. From having his favorite blanket thrown on the back of her couch to his extra pair of shoes waiting by

She shakes her head. “Seriously, H. Does Mitch really need you? Sarah’s going.”

“They’ve got a bub to look after,” Harry reminds her.

“But I’m your baby,” she pouts.

Harry laughs because he remembers her telling him “Baby” was too cheesy. Then, one night in bed, when she was close to reaching her peak, he called her “baby,” and it was over for her. She loved it, craved to hear it when he was pleasuring her.

“Well, my baby has to work, or she’d be coming with me.”

Y/N sighs because he’s right.

It’s true, he told her a few months back, but there was too much to be done that she couldn’t take a vacation, not when Harry had told her he had planned a summer vacation for them. It was the only thing keeping her going.

“Well, at least I can go to the farmer’s market.” It was popular, but the earlier she went, the less crowded. “Will need to go get some cash,” she talks aloud, already making a mental list of what to do once Harry takes off to distract herself.

Harry grabs his wallet and a few bills, slipping it into her coat’s pocket.

She reaches in after him, pulling out around what she assumed to be bills that added up to $200. “What’s this for?”

“For your fresh goods.”

“Honey,” she breathed out. “It’s too much.”

“I need to care for you, even while I’m gone.” Y/N goes to respond, but he cuts her off with a quick kiss. “Let me do this. I’m already sad I won’t be there to give you flowers.”

Y/N backs down. He bought her flowers every week. They went from daisies to daffodils. “Thank you,” is her only response.

“I’ll call you every night,” he promises, and Y/N takes him in, knowing she’s got minutes left with him. “Now, be a good girl and give me a kiss.”

She doesn’t need to be told twice.

Harry connects his lips to her in a sweet kiss. He has the power to make her forget everything. Y/N is wrapped up in his sweet taste. She’s aware that his hands trail her body before settling on his favorite spot (her ass). He slips his tongue in, giving him entrance to explore. Y/N knows she could kiss him all day, but they’ve run out of time.

Y/N pulls back breathlessly; she knows her lips are swollen. Y/N ran a finger over her lips as if she could still feel his mouth against hers.

“I’ll text you when I board,” he turns around, walking away from her, ready to drive away.

A strong feeling overwhelmed her, and she could no longer keep in those three words. “Harry!”

He turns around, sunglasses on and a pretty smile on his lips.

“I love you,” she breathes out.

Harry’s eyes widened. “Beauty, beauty!”

He hurries over with shaking hands. “What did you say?”

“I love you, Harry,” she repeats louder.

“Oh darling,” his eyes are glistening. “I want to take you back inside and show you how much I love you.” He shakes his head in disbelief. “I love you. I love you so much.”

“You’ve got a long drive ahead,” she reminds him, knowing the airport is always chaotic. She couldn’t believe she had let these words drop now that he was leaving.

“Don’t make me go,” he pleads. “Why now, baby?”

Y/N shrugs, running a hand through his curls. “It was too much to hold in with you leaving me.”

“I’m coming back, Beauty,” he promises. “Always coming back to you. Wish you’d come with me,” he pleads one more time.

Her smile gives away the same answer she’s been giving him for weeks. He knows she can’t. “Drive safe. I love you.”

Harry feels a flutter flow through him. He can’t wait to spend the rest of their lives sharing these three beautiful words. “I love you, Beauty.”

He pulls away, shaking his head. Harry hugs her tight to his chest, and she can hear the pounding in her chest. He kisses her a few more times for good measure.

“I love you,” Harry tells her one last time as he drives away. She waves him goodbye from the porch and keeps smiling until he turns the corner, and that’s when she lets her tears slip.

Y/N’s really going to miss him.

When she’s back inside, Y/N hears her phone ring. She sees it’s Harry and answers quickly, worried something has happened. “You okay, honey?”

He’s silent for a few seconds.

“Honey?”

“Say it again.”

She giggles, “I love you. Call me when you’re there.”

“One last time,” he asks.

“I love you, Harry Styles.”

“Hello, you’ve reached Harry Styles. I’m unable to get on the phone right now. Leave your name and number, and I’ll return your call when I’m available. Thank you.” His voicemail filled the quiet of her room. Y/N huffed; it was the third time she had tried calling him, and there was no answer. He promised her a date and even sent her a photo of how he added it to his schedule.

Harry had been gone now for two weeks on business. He had begged her to come, and she almost caved, but there was too much going on at work for her to take a trip. Harry understood; of course, he did. He knew how much Y/N loved her job and would never try to take her from there unless he really needed her.

Y/N throws her phone to the end of her bed, deciding to give up for now. She had prepared a small meal to share with him. She knew it was cold now and couldn’t be bothered to eat it when her appetite was gone. Since her plans are gone, she phones Sapra, who quickly answers on the first ring.

“Babes!” Sapra greets her cheerfully. “I was just thinking about you.”

“Yeah, I got bad news at work. I had a cater cancel on me, and it’s like starting all over again with the hunt for the perfect person. “So,” Y/N dragged out. “I was thinking we can go drink my sorrows.”

Sapra laughs, “Oh my sweet, Y/N.” She takes a moment to respond, but Y/N knows she’s in. “Of course, I’m in. Let me call in the boys and Dawn.”

They settle on going to a bar they know that sells delicious nachos. Dawn’s place is the middle ground, so they agree to meet there.

Time with her favorite people is precisely what she needs. Her friends get along well with Harry, and she likes including him on their outings. It’s nice to go out, have a good laugh, and go home to cuddle with her boyfriend. Her boyfriend is still out of town, so she will return to an empty apartment and a cold bed.

Y/N sent Harry a text to check-in. She hoped nothing terrible had happened but knew in her gut that if something was wrong, she would have a call from Sarah. The only update from Sarah was of her bub swaddled in a blanket Y/N made for him.

While Y/N loves dressing up tonight, she settled on jeans, a white top, and her favorite yellow cardigan, Dawn knitted. It keeps her warm and cozy while elevating her outfit. Y/N finishes slipping on her rings as she walks out the door. Y/N takes the ringer off her phone, slipping it into her bag, promising herself to have a fun night.

Bars are not Y/N’s favorite place because it’s too loud, there is always a weird smell, and mostly because it’s hard to avoid creeps. She stands by the never-going-to-the-bathroom-alone code, and as she waits for Sapra to finish washing her hands, she has to politely move away from men stumbling down the hall. Once they’re settled back in their seats, Y/N relaxes. She has a drink in her hand, vodka cranberry (her favorite), and enjoys the evening. Her brother brought a new friend today, Brandon. He’s tall, a bit pale, and has a buzzcut. Y/N recognizes he’s attractive, but his brown eyes do nothing to her. Her MO when she was in Uni was chocolate brown eyes she could drown herself in, but now she knows the truth. It’s that emerald will always be captivating to her.

Matias shares a funny story about Y/N when she was a child, making the group awe while Brandon shoots her a smirk. Y/N knows he’s flirting, but before she can tell him, she’s not interested. Isaac reminds Brandon that Y/N is a taken woman.

“Y/N’s here alone,” Brandon tries.

“Man is on a business trip.” Matias slaps a hand on Brandon’s shoulder. “Promise you, he will hear about this and be on the first flight back.”

Brandon backs up with his hands up.

Crisis Averted.

Y/N can easily defend herself, but she’s glad her brother had her back in this case. Brandon sets his eyes on Dawn, who is all too happy to give in to her flirting ways. She remembers when Dawn would barely speak a word unless spoken to, but after two vodka sodas, it’s like Dawn becomes a new person who suddenly loves to talk. It makes Y/N laugh, but always makes a point to look after her.

After two drinks, Y/N decides that’s all she wants. Everyone seems to agree. The bar gets more crowded, pushing them all together when Sapra gets a bright idea.

“You know I’ve been wanting a new tattoo,” Sapra throws out her bait.

Matias rolls his eyes, “like you weren’t posting about your last one two weeks ago.”

Sapra gasps, “So you do watch my story.”

“More like skip,” Isaac chirps in.

Y/N knows she has to intervene, or Sapra will bite their heads off. “Right, a tattoo sounds nice.”

Sapra clinks her drink with Y/N’s. “Anyways, Roxanne has become a good friend. I can call her to see if she can squeeze us all in for a tattoo.”

“I’m out,” Dawn calls out, who is four drinks in.

Brandon shrugs, “I’m game.”

Y/N looks at her brother and his husband. Isaac and Matias share a look. Y/N knows it’s going to be a no. They are never impulsive.

“We’ll supervise, you idiots,” Isaac shares.

Sapra cheers while Y/N thinks about the placement of her tattoo.

The shop was only a five-minute walk from the bar they were at. After Sapra phoned her friend who, yes, was available to tattoo three people at ten pm.

The shop is one Y/N has driven by many times. It’s small and intimate and entirely female-owned. The space is clean, and the receptionist counter has mints for customers to grab. The wall has beautiful paintings from a local artist, and Y/N knows she’d be happy to have one in her apartment (or Harry’s house).

Brandon goes first. He’s quick to explain his tattoo idea. He wants a teddy bear for his nephew, born two months ago. Theodore was his name, and he wanted to do something special as the godfather. Y/N found it sweet. She wouldn’t mind keeping Brandon in the friend group. Mainly because it seemed Dawn was smitten. Brandon had her go back with him, feigning he was feeling nervous and needed Dawn to hold his hand to make him brave; it worked like a charm.

As Brandon gets wrapped up, Sapra expresses her idea. Roxanne tells her it’s great but would prefer Sapra’s recent tattoo to heal a bit longer before going in for a new one. Sapra wants to fight it but knows when to back down.

“You got it, Roxie. But you will do it?”

Roxanne nods her head, making her lilac hair move around her. “Of course.” Roxanne looks back at the group. “That leaves one more.”

All eyes turn to Y/N. She feels like shrinking into herself but instead stands up straight and follows Roxanne to her office. Y/N hands her phone off to Dawn, who promises to keep it safe. Y/N knows there will be a lot of drunk selfies to filter through tomorrow.

Y/N has been thinking of getting a tattoo for some time now. She discussed it with Harry one time, but he always told her it was her body and would ultimately always be her choice. It wasn’t much help. That had been about two months ago, and now she knew she would be happy with it.

“I thought about this for a long time,” Y/N explains to Roxanne as she places the stencil on her ribcage.

Roxanne laughs, “midnight screams impulsive.” Y/N laughs. She’s not wrong. She’s glad to have the company with her alone; she might have walked out of the shop by now. “Ribcage is pretty brave.”

“So I’ve heard,” Y/N responds.

“Hurts a lot.”

“I can take it.” Y/N knows it will be worth it.

Sapra pops in, promising to hold Y/N’s hand if needed. Y/N wiggles her fingers, and Sapra hurries to her side. “This will be very sexy in the summer with a bikini.”

“Harry is going to die,” Dawn giggles. Y/N notices Dawn holding her phone up and knows she’s recording. Well, at least they’ll all be able to look back on this.

Y/N can admit the tattoo process wasn’t painless. It felt like constantly being strung by a bee in the same spot. The only good thing was that no bees died while she got inked. Sapra teared up as she released what Y/N got tattooed. It was a bouquet of Sapra and Y/N’s birth flower (Sapra shared the same month with Harry, but Y/N wasn’t reading into that right now). Roxanne brought Y/N’s vision to life, and it would forever be inked on her skin.

The entire thing took 45 minutes to an hour. Y/N was being told about the aftercare when Dawn felt Y/N’s phone ring. It showed a picture of Y/N and Harry sharing a kiss at sunset. She thought it was no problem picking it up and was soon greeted with Harry’s face, suddenly realizing it was a Facetime call.

“Mr. Styles!” Dawn greeted cheerfully.

“Just Harry,” he corrected with a slight laugh.

“Okay, Mr. Harry,” Dawn fell into a fit of giggles.

He didn’t bother correcting her; instead, he looked for Y/N. “Where’s Y/N?”

Dawn held up a finger, needing to pass the phone as she was still laughing. “Hold on a sec.”

The phone was then passed to Sapra. “Hi,” he waves.

Sapra gives him the cold shoulder. He has a small idea of why but knows she doesn’t need an answer. Y/N does.

“I can explain. But you don’t need to hear it,” Harry tells her.

“For once, I agree. I’ll find out either way,” she reminds him.

Harry spots Y/N in the back of the frame, slipping on her shirt. He catches a glimpse of something around her waist. He frowned but called out for her. “Beauty?”

“Hi, Harry,” Y/N answers confused. “Everything alright?”

“Mhm…do you have a moment to talk?”

Y/N is the only one in the frame, but by all the chatter Harry hears, it’s clear she’s not home. “I will be home in 30. The night was ending. Y/N scratches her neck; she sees the bags under his eyes and knows he hasn’t slept well. “Do you want to talk tomorrow? It can’t be a good time for you.”

Harry feels his heart soften because she’s always looking out for him. He knows he should sleep, but he had a shitty day(s), and he knows even a few minutes with Y/N will make him feel better. Selfishly, he wishes Y/N was home accepting his call, but he can wait for her. He’d wait a lifetime if he had to.

“I’ll call you when I’m home,” she promises.

“I love you,” Harry tells her. He never hangs up without saying it.

“I love you, Harry.”

“Is everything alright?” Sapra asks concerned.

Y/N kisses her cheek. “It will be. I got to get home.”

Matias shows her he’s ordered her an Uber. They’ll share because he would feel awful sending her home alone. Y/N knows she’s lucky to have so many people who love her.

Y/N is thankful her brother knows her well because he put Harry’s address as her drop-off location. She hadn’t stayed there a lot because it made her feel lonely. He asked her to house-sit, but he had no plants or pets to look after. Y/N’s hoping she can convince him he needs one in his life.

She waves goodnight to her brother and makes her way inside. Slipping off her shoes, she wants to call Harry once she’s ready for bed, but it’s been thirty-five minutes, and she hates making him wait. Y/N calls him, and on the second ring, he’s answering.

“Hi, beauty.”

Y/N can hear the relief in his voice. As if he was holding it together until he got her alone.

“Hi honey, I’ve got to get my makeup off, but I didn’t want to make you wait anymore.”

“Put me on video call.” He requests.

Y/N does as he asks. She sets him on the bathroom counter. He stares at her with his pretty eyes, and Y/N knows she’s grateful to have him. She knows she’s in love. The moony look in his eyes tells her everything.

Harry grins, being able to see her blushed cheeks and shimmering eyes. He knows Y/N always uses her Cosmos palette because she’s learned that the glitter makes her eyes shine in any kind of light.

“Fun night?”

Y/N rubs her cleansing balm over her face as she tells Harry about the night’s event. She told him she could hurry if he was tired, but he shook his head no. “Keep talking, Beauty. I’m with you.”

She continues to tell him about how well done her drink was, the perfect mix of alcohol and cranberry. Y/N promised to take him back another time. She spoke about Matias's friend and saw when Harry perked up at the mention of trying to chat her up.

“Will that new friend be a problem?”

She giggles, rubbing her moisturizer into her skin gently. “No. Matias gave him a talk. He got along wonderfully with Dawn, but she mentioned he’s fresh out of a breakup, so she won’t pursue anything.”

“For now.”

“We’ll see, honey.”

Y/N throws the phone on the bed as she begins to get changed. “Beauty, baby? Where’d you go?”

She crawls under the covers, picking up her phone after getting comfortable. “Had to get changed. All tucked in now.”

“No show?” Harry teases.

“Not unless you’re here to take it off me.”

Harry groans. He is aware of how little Y/N wears to bed. “I will get on a flight right now.”

“It’s only a few more days.”

They sit in silence for a few minutes. Y/N knows Harry has much to share, but she wonders what he will start with.

“Was that a tattoo?” Y/N feigned innocence. “When I first called you. Thought I saw something.”

Y/N explains the tattoo Sapra has been in her life for as long as she can remember. Tattooing something is permanent and something he reminded her of endlessly, but in that moment, she couldn’t think of a reason not to get it.

“Do you regret it now?” Harry is still looking at the photo she sent him, and he’s thinking about the pain she went through. He wished he was the one holding her hand.

“No, the pain was manageable. I love it.”

Harry grins, “I love it too.”

She knew he would.

“I love you, Harry.”

“Beauty, oh, Beauty. I’m so fucking lucky to love you. I’m sorry for today.”

“Do you want to share with me?

Harry runs a hand through his hair. Y/N notices she’s propped up against something, maybe a lamp on the nightstand, as she can see both his hands picking at the ends of a t-shirt in his hand. It’s a faded blue, and Y/N recognizes it as a shirt of hers from Uni. She had no idea he snuck that in.

He needed a piece of her with him as well.

“It was a shitty day,” he breathes out. “I was ready to pull out of this deal because they weren’t respecting our requests. They wanted to go for the cheaper cost, but how we run our business is important, and while I was ready to jump ship, Mitch talked me down. We were there all day until we came to a compromise. I felt drained when I got back to the hotel. I laid on the bed to sleep a bit, having set an alarm, but I slept through it. Called you as soon as I woke up.”

Y/N’s heart deflates, “you could have called me later. I would have understood.”

“I already disappointed you. It couldn’t wait,” Harry tells her.

“Thank you for apologizing.” Y/N watches Harry; he looks tired, but knowing him, he won’t hang up first. Y/N isn’t quite ready to let him go. He looks so good, his hair a mess, his swallow peeking under his shirt. Y/N misses the feel of his hands on her body. Misses the way he smells. Misses his hand in her hair. Y/N was lovesick. “It happens. Sure, I was disappointed, but I figured something happened. Long distance, I don’t know how people do it.”

“For love.”

“Then you’re lucky I love you.”

“The luckiest,” he agrees.

Harry tells her a story about Sarah, how she’s checked in on him, reminding him to finish all his work quickly because he’s got someone waiting at home now. He tells her a story about his sister and how she recently got a new dog. It was so small, and little Pixie fell asleep in his arms. It seemed convincing him he needed a pet would be easier than she had imagined.

As Harry tells her story after story, she feels overwhelmed with emotion. She misses him so much, but she also misses his touch. They’ve taken their relationship slowly. Y/N is not one to jump in right away because of past experiences, and Harry has taken that in stride. Y/N is waiting for him to come home so that he can love on her how they both deserve, but right now, Y/N knows just the thing to take the edge off for both of them.

“I’ve missed you. Missed how you’ve taken care of me,” Y/N breathes out.

Harry picks up on her change of tone. “Yeah, Beauty. Need me in between your legs to relax. Work keeps you busy. All you want is to be taken care of. Daddy can help with that.”

Y/N whimpers. Daddy is not something they ever discussed, but at this moment, it’s everything she needs. “I want Daddy to take care of me. Need it. Crave it.”

Harry sighs, his cock swelling when hearing his beautiful girlfriend call him Daddy. He makes a mental note to talk about it tomorrow after they both have a good night’s rest.

“Only a few more days, Baby.” Harry reminded her. “I promise to take care of you until you push me away until you can’t take it anymore.”

“What would you do to me?”

He had no idea this was where their phone call would lead, but fuck he’s ready.

Y/N bites her bottom lip as she waits to hear what he says.

“I’d lay you back on the bed, prop a pillow under your hips just how my Baby likes it. Spread your legs open, and I’ll see how wet you are waiting for me to touch you except, you know me, Beauty. I love to take my time,” he smirked when he saw her close her eyes, a deep sigh leaving her pouty lips. “I know you’re lying in my bed. Surrounded by my smell, I know you are soaked. I imagine you wearing pretty panties, maybe the yellow ones with bows on your hips.”

“What if I told you I don’t have any on?”

Harry bites back a groan. “I’d ask you to show me your pretty pussy.”

Y/N shakes her head, not one to easily give in.

“I’d kiss your pretty thighs. I love it when you smother me between them as I lick you clean. Fuck,” he looks away for a second, and Y/N can only imagine what he’s doing. “I’m fucking hard thinking about you. Thinking about tasting you. How sweet you taste, I swear I’ve never had anything sweeter, Baby.”

“D-d-daddy!” She pleads.

“I’d kiss right over your clit before licking you clean. You’re a messy girl. You can’t help it, baby, but that is why Daddy is here to help.”

“Need more.”

Harry smirked; he knew Y/N was touching herself. He swears he can see how she moves her fingers in and out of herself. She’s so slick, and he knows he’d slip right in if he was home. “Baby, I would lick you until I felt satisfied, then I’d slowly trace two fingers around you. Start by pumping one in and out until you’d beg me for another. I know you can take it. You’re always such a good girl.”

“It’s not enough,” she cries. Harry sees her hand moving, and fuck, he wants her to move the screen down, but he can’t seem to take his eyes away from her face. The desire coursing through her, and sees her trembling, uneasy breaths and knows she’s close to coming for him.

“Daddy would give you everything you asked for, anything and everything.” Harry pumps his hand over his cock. “I’d keep going, curl my fingers in deep, letting your legs trap me in between your thighs. I’d suck your clit over and over again until you scream my name.”

“Fuck!” Y/N shouts. “Harry,” she repeats as she takes herself over the edge.

“My sweet angel, you look so perfect coming for me. The sweetest sight. Wish I was there to lick your fingers clean. No need to waste something so yummy.” Y/N deflates a shy smile now on her face as what happened begins to set in.

Y/N laughs. “Did that just happen?”

“The come on my stomach is answer enough.” He teases.

Y/N groans, “fuck me, Harry.”

“Just say when.” He’s tempted to jump on a flight home, but a few more days is all he needs to wait.

The sweet look on Y/N’s face keeps him calm until he is back in her arms. Y/N is close to falling asleep; he can see how relaxed she is, and he hates having to hang up.

“I love you, honey,” she reminds him. “Hurry back, please.”

“Hold on tight, Beauty. I’ll be home soon.” He blows her a kiss. “I love you.”

Those three words lull her to sleep.

Harry was finally home. He had been gone for three weeks, but it had felt like months. He ensured all his bags were packed and drove to Y/N’s apartment.

He finds a parking space right in front. Harry excitedly makes his way upstairs. He knocks, knowing she has to be home, but after a few minutes of no answer, he realizes she’s not home. Heading outside, he checks if her car is parked but finds nothing. Instead, he calls her. She answers on the second ring.

“Hiya, honey,” she greets him cheerfully.

“Beauty, I love hearing your voice.”

“You sap.” He knows she’s flustered.

“Are you home?”

Y/N sighs on the line. “Hannah called out sick, and everyone needed me. Got a few more hours left. Are you all set to arrive tomorrow?”

Harry frowns; he had told her when he was coming in. She must have been too busy to even look at the date. Instead of correcting her, he promises to see her tomorrow. Harry tells her he loves her, waits for her to say it back, hangs up, and decides to prepare a special evening for her.

He drives to the store and picks up the essentials. Orange wine (Y/N’s favorite) decides on ingredients for a pesto pasta that Y/N and he made a few days before he left, and both loved it. Harry rushes home and is pleased to find Y/N’s slippers by the door, meaning she will return here later. It’s a sign she had told him early on that if they’re by the door, it’s the first thing she wants to slip on. If they’re in the entrance closet, then it means she’s tidied up her items for him.

Home.

He was home, and soon, Y/N would be too. While away, it was nice to reunite with his family. His mum and sister told him to visit more, which he would do in the summer with Y/N. Work was work, and while he loved it, this trip kept him away from his Beauty for too long. Harry spent the next few hours doing his laundry, quickly showering, and preparing everything for a bath. Y/N loved lying there soaking up the heat and the smell of her bath bombs.

As Harry stirred the pasta, the smell of pesto filled the room. He hums in delight as he hears the ring of the dryer where he had put Y/N’s blanket to warm to keep her nice and toasty after dinner.

The front door opens. Harry quickly turns off the stove and lets the pasta sit while he waits for Y/N to greet him. He leans the kitchen entrance, staring at Y/N as she slips off her Mary Jane’s and throws her coat on the couch.

Y/N walks by Harry, standing by the kitchen door. “Hi, honey,” she greets and walks by him. It seems she’s running on autopilot, not seeming to process he is back home. Y/N freezes in her tracks, turns around, and stares at Harry. He flashes her his dimpled smile, she had confessed it made her weak in the knees. “You’re home,” she whispers.

He nods. “I’m home.”

“You’re home,” she repeats.

Y/N runs into his waiting arms. He holds her tight, spinning her around as she presses kisses to the column of his neck. He sets her down, his heart close to beating out of his chest.

Harry squeezes her hips. Y/N is smiling up at him, and he feels like the luckiest man alive. Harry leans in, connecting their lips together. Her sweet lips welcomed him, and it was a feeling he never wanted to go without. The kiss has filled him up with so much love and longing. Harry promises to never go this long without Y/N by his side. He wasn’t made to miss her. He was made to stay by her side and love her. Y/N presses against him, making Harry stumble into the wall, but neither seems to mind being too lost in the kiss. Y/N knows she needs to breathe but finds it incredibly difficult to tear herself away. Harry does it for her but doesn’t go far. His lips brush against hers as they take in a deep breath. “I love you.”

He kisses her again.

“I love you too. So much. I love you. I’ll say it forever.”

Y/N wraps her hands around his neck, and Harry knows she wants another kiss. He happily obliges. “Missed you. Missed you so much,” he mutters against her lips.

“Don’t leave again.”

“Never again,” he promises. “Taking you wherever I go.”

They spent a few more minutes holding each other, whispering “I love you” every few seconds. Y/N’s heart is back home, and she couldn’t be happier. Harry gives her butt a few taps promising they could continue later, but he was going to set her up for a bath. Y/N pouts, “I’m supposed to take care of you. You just got home.”

He frowns in response, pinching her butt and making her jump into him. “You’re my baby. My sweet angel. I will always look after you.” Harry sees Y/N begin to melt, and he knows she’s giving in. “We’re starting with a bath, then having some pasta for dinner. Then we’ll go watch some telly in bed.”

“I love you” is her only response.

With a final kiss, Harry sends her off to get clothes in the bedroom while he prepares the bath. Y/N is happy to have Harry at home.

Y/N and Harry spent the night enjoying each other’s company. After dinner, they crawl into bed and hold each other tight. Y/N was independent, and she had been from a young age. She’d go to the movies alone, watching a new film. She’d go into the market alone for a quick snack while her brother always requested company. Y/N was comfortable with her own company. She liked who she was when she was with others but also when she was alone.

Her partnership with Harry is something that surprised her. Her family always joked that she was high maintenance and that no one could lock her down because she was a free bird. Yet, she knew he was different from the moment she met Harry. Y/N was ready to walk away from him, but there was something special in Harry that she knew giving him a second chance would not be something she regretted.

Y/N liked who she was when she was with Harry because he made her shine more than she did on her own. Harry always liked to tell her that all eyes turned to look at her when she walked into any room. Y/N didn’t believe it was accurate, but she was glad she captured his attention.

In the morning, Y/N wakes up against Harry. Not a single space between them. Y/N laughed to herself because they drifted away most of the time. Harry always ran hot and slowly pushed away the covers while Y/N hugged them closer. Although they would always be touching each other. A hand on his stomach, one wrapped in her hair, or their legs intertwined. Yet, they managed to hold each other through the entire night; clearly, they both needed it.

Y/N looked at the time and sighed. She had to prepare for work. She was tempted to call out but knew Hannah would still be out. She was careful to move away from Harry, wanting him to sleep in as much as he could when he gripped the end of her (his) shirt. “Stay,” he mumbled.

Y/N sighed and ran her hand through his messy hair. “I’ve got to go in. If I skip lunch today, I can be out by one. Hmmm, I’ll do a half day,” Y/N compromised. “How does that sound?”

“Like I’ll miss you.”

She shakes her head. “I’ll see you at one.”

“Love you, come give me a kiss goodbye.”

Y/N leans down, pressing a kiss to his hair. “I will.”

After a long kiss in bed, Y/N was on her way to work. Y/N thought of the man waiting for her at home, and she knew tonight would be special.

Y/N’s promise to be out early was a bust as they had a new contract, and Y/N knew it was the priority. With a quick call apologizing to Harry, she quickly returned to running around the office. She had to talk to planners and directions. Thankfully, her assistant Kacey, who was becoming a quick learner the more time she spent by Y/N’s side. It made Y/N’s job go a lot smoother.

“You can go home now, Kacey.” Y/N knew they should have left an hour ago, but she was swarmed with papers. She hoped Hannah was feeling better. Y/N could run this all on her own but did not want to.

“Ms. Y/N, we’ve got paperwork to send in,” the young girl responded.

Y/N waved her in. She looked over, and it was a few signatures and two emails to send off about what they could provide for the upcoming Gala at the start of Summer. “It’s a Friday night. Please go out and enjoy it.”

Kacey stares at Y/N with a pensive look, and Y/N knows the girl will not be leaving without her.

“Fine. You email Mr. Cameron, letting him know he’ll be contacted on Monday with all they have planned for him. Then, from there, they’ll decide on a meeting time. I’ll manage Mrs. Cash’s change of theme. Twenty minutes?”

“More than enough.”

In record time, Y/N signs away one contract and makes a note to have their lawyer team revise the second. The email quickly gets done, and Y/N shuts down her computer. She won’t be back in until Tuesday, having requested a long weekend, weeks back when Harry told her the date he would be returning home.

Kacey is slipping her coat on when Y/N turns to face her. “Ready?”

“Yes.”

Y/N and Kacey walk out of the office together, making small talk as they walk to their cars.

Kacey is telling Y/N about her weekend plans. “My girlfriend is taking me to see Hamilton.”

“How lovely,” Y/N loves the soundtrack. “I fear I know all the words yet have never seen the actual play,” Y/N confesses.

“I’ll let you know if it’s any good.”

They both know it will be.

Stopping in front of Y/N’s car, Kacey asks Y/N what she will do.

“Harry came back last night, simply spending time together. Opening up whatever gift he got me,” Y/N jokes but knows he has to have accumulated more than a few while away from her.

“Lovely, I’m surprised you came in,” Kacey shares honestly.

“Hannah being out was bad. We couldn’t make it two.”

“That’s true. I’ve heard stories about Mr. Styles and you,” Kacey shares timidly. “All good things,” she’s quick to add. “Everyone thinks you’re a lovely pair.”

Y/N feels her cheeks heat up. “Thank you. I’m fortunate.”

Kacey bids her goodbye. “Ms. Y/N,” Kacey calls out, making Y/N turn back to look at her assistant. “Think he’s the lucky one.”

For that alone, Y/N will make sure Kacey takes Monday off, too. No need for an assistant if the boss is out.

The drive to Harry’s house is calm for a late Friday night. The sun has set, and Y/N is ready to be in his arms again. She parks outside the garage and hurries inside. It’s a surprisingly lovely night for the end of Winter. She hangs her bag and slips on her brown teddy bear slippers, walking through the house trying to spot Harry. He knew she was coming home, the oven light on with what she assumed was their dinner. She can worry about food later. She wants a hug from her boyfriend.

Y/N spots the porch light on and approaches the French doors. She spots Harry lying on a large blanket, a few pillows thrown around him. He has a book on his chest and a mug by his head. She pictured doing this with him in the summer, but it's perfect on a nice night like tonight.

“Honey, I’m home.”

He sits up in a rush, the book falls to the grass, forgotten, and he reaches his hands out for her. “Beauty, hi.”

Y/N giggles as he pulls her to sit in his lap. His lips quick to meet hers, he kisses her as if she had been the one to be gone for three weeks and not a few hours. She moans against him as he slips his tongue in. Y/N, eager for more, pushes him back to lie on his back. Y/N breaks away to press kisses against his neck. Harry hisses as Y/N bites into his neck, but Y/N is quick to soothe it with a quick lick.

“Welcome home,” he pants.

Y/N shakes her head, giving him a final kiss before getting comfortable next to him. They look up at the sky together, and Y/N wonders if other lovers are looking up at the same sky at this very moment.

“Do you think aliens exist?” Y/N asks while she traces the constellations she sees on his chest.

“Probably. This world is too large to be just us.”

Y/N nods, “Do you think Gods exist?”

“Like Poseidon?”

“He’s one of them.”

Harry ponders this for a second, he kisses the top of her head. “I-I hmmm… I’m not sure how to answer. I don’t think I’ve ever thought much of it.”

“Eros is the son of Aphrodite, and his job is to help make love happen. Do you think he was a part of our story? Or was it simply fate?” Y/N isn’t sure what made her bring up this topic now, but she wants to know what Harry thinks. “We have all these ancient stories. We look up at constellations, and we know their stories. Many people will think of them simply as stories, but what if they were real people with real feelings, just like us.”

Y/N moves around until she’s sitting on his thighs, and he moves into a sitting position with his hands resting on her ass. “I think we all have the choice to believe. Believe that there is something beyond us looking out for us, but some believe they make their own future. I like to think all my roads led to you.”

“Cheesy,” Y/N rolls her eyes, but he can see she’s flustered.

“Whether Cupid struck me with an arrow or fate had set me on a course to you from the moment I was born, it led us here, loving each other wholeheartedly.”

“I love you, Harry Styles.” Y/N fists his shirt. “I hope to love you in every single lifetime.”

“Our love is beyond us. It’s bigger than us.”

Y/N is feeling overwhelmed. All her love was pouring out of her chest, and she could no longer express it. She did the next best thing and kissed him. Y/N feels time stop; her heart rate speeds up, but she only feels Harry. It’s as if they’re the only two people to exist. His hands tug her closer, Y/N sighs into his mouth, loving the closeness. She missed someone holding her while he was away, and now that he’s here, she no longer wants anything between them.

Y/N rocks on top of him. She moves in a steady rhythm, enjoying the feeling of having him so close.

“Beauty,” Harry moans.

“Mhm…”

“What are–”

She interrupts him. “Make love to me.” Y/N places a soft kiss on his lips.

Harry and Y/N had taken their relationship slow. They had to after the bad start because of Harry. He promised to be patient and understanding and had gone above and beyond. While they’ve given each other their fair share of orgasms, Harry is giving her much more. They never went beyond that. She could no longer wait, not when she loved and needed all of him. She felt like a part of her had gone missing with him gone for so long, but now she feels whole again.

“Make love to me,” she repeats, staring into his eyes.

“Anything you want, Beauty. I’ll give you.” Harry brushes her hair out of her face, pressing a soft kiss to her lips.

“Only want you.”

“You have me,” he promises.

Harry and Y/N walk into the house, kissing against every wall. Y/N laughs as he bumps her against the railing of the stairs. Harry gives her ass a nice smack. “Head on up, sweet girl.”

Y/N hurries to his bedroom while Harry gets water for both of them. When he gets to the bedroom, he finds Y/N sitting in the middle of the bed in her panties and bra. There is no mistaking what is happening tonight.

Harry stands at the edge of the bed and beckons Y/N to come closer. She does so quickly, sitting back on the heel of her feet.

“You sure about this, Y/N?” Harry checks in, needing to know where her head is at.

“Yes, Harry. I think I’ve made you wait long enough.”

Harry shakes his head. “Y/N, Beauty. Do not worry about me. I will wait forever for you. You have to know that,” he expresses. “You’re worth the wait. I would never dare push you, Beauty. Not for my own pleasure.”

Y/N wraps her arms around his neck and pulls him in tight for a hug. “I love you so much. Thank you.”

Harry kisses her cheek. “I love you, baby.”

She leaned back to look at him, needing him to understand that she did want this. She wants everything with him. “Make love to me, Harry. Show me how good you can take care of me.”

Harry runs his hands up and down her arms. He sees goosebumps all over her body as he places light kisses up her neck. His hand caressed her shoulders while the kisses spread to her jaw, the anticipation eating her alive.

He kissed all the way up to her lips. As their lips met, she felt electricity shoot through her; his soft tongue parted her mouth and met hers. His hands now found home on her lower back, and he pulled her tight against his chest. The kiss deepened, and Harry began to lay her back. Y/N quickly accommodated, landing on the pillows and pulling Harry to land on top of her.

Harry’s hand reached her hip, caressing down her thigh. Y/N trembled, feeling his touch. She placed her hand on his chest, feeling his heartbeat. It’s beating fast, a nice reminder that she’s not the only one nervous. Their lips separated, and he looked into her eyes. Staring back at him, she nodded for him to continue.

Y/N had helped by removing most of her clothes, but she left her bra and panties for Harry. He traced a finger lightly over the top of her breast. Y/N pushed her chest out, begging for more, but he continued to take his time. Y/N pushed him to sit up, and she followed shortly after. She grabbed the bottom of his T-shirt, and he lifted it over his arms and head. She peeled it from his body and threw it onto the bedroom floor. Harry reached behind her and unclasped her bra. Y/N let the straps fall from her shoulders, the bra falling onto the bed, long forgotten. Y/N felt her face flush as she bared herself to him. She grinned as he took her in.

“You’re beautiful, Y/N.”

“Stop it.”

Harry laughs, beckoning her over with a finger. “Come here.”

They’re both kneeling on the bed, his hands on her hips. She puts her arms around his neck, and their chests pressed against one another. Her hands found their way to his shorts, but she made no move to take them off; instead, she stared down at his bulge. She wanted a taste, as always, but he laid her down before she could move down. Her nipples were hard, calling for his attention. He took one in his mouth and sucked gently, then took a slight nibble. Y/N gasped, her hand falling on his shoulder, her nails putting pressure as he moved to do the same to the other one. Y/N’s moans filled the room as Harry focused on her breast; his hand moved down to rub her through her panties.

“Harry, please,” she begged.

He smirked, grabbing the elastic running around her waist. Y/N lifted her hips as he slid the panties off. He threw them on the floor and took in Y/N’s beautiful body. He wanted to kiss her everywhere, but one place was calling his name.

Harry gives Y/N a deep kiss on her lips and moves down her body. A kiss between her breasts, a trail of kisses down her stomach, a gentle kiss on her tattoo, down to her hips. He took a nip off her thighs before slowly beginning to lick Y/N’s pussy. He started slowly, letting Y/N get used to his tongue as he cleaned her up. Y/N’s moan got louder the more he kissed and sucked her juices.

“Fuck, Harry. Please,” she pleaded. “I need more.”

He knew exactly what she needed. Harry slipped a finger inside, moving it in and out as she got accustomed quickly, asking for a second. He was quick to comply, feeling her tense around him. To help her reach her orgasm, he sucked on her clit and curled his fingers, moving them in and out.

Y/N moaned, her thighs tensing around Harry as she came around his fingers. He places gentle kisses on her hips as Y/N comes down from her high. Y/N laughs, running a hand through his curls. “You’re amazing.”

He grins, slowly pulling his fingers out of her. He licks them clean while Y/N watches. Once he’s done, Y/N pulls him in for a kiss, not caring about the taste, simply needing him.

She reaches out for him, “your turn.”

Harry sighs, “Not tonight, baby.”

Y/N pouts. “Please?”

“Promise I’m more than ready. I need to feel you. I want to be close to you.”

Y/N couldn’t say no to that.

Harry discards his shorts and pumps himself spreading his precum over his cock. Y/N moans at the sight in front of her. Harry has always been beautiful, but he looked eternal right now. She can see how thick he is and can’t wait to make love to him. Y/N knows she’s ready for him. He rolled toward the nightstand and reached into the drawer. He pulled out a condom, but Y/N went to stop him before he could open it.

“I’m clean,” she breathed out.

“Y/N,” he starts, but she interrupts him.

“I want it. I’m on birth control. If you want the condom, we can, but this is what I want.” Y/N expressed. “What you want matters too.”

Harry was clean, he had his check-ups, and he was good. There was something so comforting about having the choice together, but his answer was clear: he wanted to feel all of her with nothing in between.

He tossed the condom away. “I’m clean, Beauty. I love you.”

“I love you too.”

Y/N laid back down, and Harry positioned himself between her legs. After a silent conversation to check she was okay, he slowly slid inside. He pushed through, and Y/N let out a deep moan. He lowered his body onto hers and held her. He slowly pushed in until the rest of his cock was inside. He stilled, letting Y/N get used to the fullness. Y/N was wet, making it easy for him to pull out and slide back in, but he went in small steps to not overwhelm Y/N.

“I’m ready. Give me more.”

With the okay, he began to thrust in and out, her moans getting louder and longer. It felt so good being this close. Y/N was overwhelmed, but this was everything she wanted. She began to lift her hips into his thrusts, ramming her clit into the hilt of his cock. They rocked together, on and, for what felt like hours.

“Fuck, baby. You were made for me,” he groaned. “My perfect angel.”

Rocking against his every thrust, she ran her nails down his back as he moved faster. She was close to coming. Y/N told him she needed more, just a bit more; he knew exactly what to do as he rubbed his thumb over her clit. She could not contain the shouts and moans as her orgasm rushed through her.

Y/N screamed his name over and over as the feeling of pleasure rushed through her. As Y/N was coming down from the high, she could feel how hard Harry was still and knew they weren’t done. Not that she wanted to be.

She sat up with his help, grabbed his shoulders, and guided him down onto his back. Y/N climbed onto him and straddled his cock. She reached down and guided his cock into her pussy. He slipped in slowly as Y/N took him all in again. She rocked her hips back and forth once she settled on top of him. His hands reached up to rest on her hips. Y/N’s moans urged him to keep going.

“So pretty, rocking on my fucking cock.”

“Harry,” she cried.

Her moans were perfect. Everything he wished for and more.

“Fucking perfect. This cock is all yours. Yours to fuck.”

Harry was filthy in bed, everything she fucking wanted. Yes, it started sweet and romantic, his touches were still gentle and filled with love, but he was fucking her and loving her. Y/N let Harry rock her up and down, allowing him to use her body for his release. Y/N knew no matter what he did, she was going to come with him. Harry helped Y/N lift herself up and down on his cock. Y/N’s eyes were closed, and she moaned softly each time she rocked all the way back.

“So close, baby. So fucking close to coming in you.”

“Fill me up,” she breathed.

Harry felt himself tightening. He couldn’t hold on much longer. He was going to come in Y/N; he was going to fill her up. Y/N kissed him. It was hot, their tongues fighting for dominance, he easily let her win as his hands tangled in her hair, and he fucked into her pushing her to her final orgasm of the night. Harry groaned against her mouth as he let himself go against her walls. Y/N sighed against him as her orgasm ran through her like a wave. She felt light and in love. Y/N had made him wait to be ready, but she knew it was worth it.

He valued her as a person. Her opinions meant something to him. Y/N knew he loved her for who she was as a person, not only her looks.

Y/N parted their lips but didn’t move away. “I love you, Harry. You’re fucking beautiful.”

Harry laughed against her, his cheeks flushed at her gentle words. He squeezed her tight to his chest, kissing her wherever he could: her cheek, neck, shoulder, and lips. “I love love you.”

They held each other, letting warmth wash over them, whispering “I love you” and sweet promises of the future together. It’s everything they wanted and more.

After Harry helped her clean up and took a steaming hot shower together, they settled under the covers, ready to call it a night. Harry had put the TV on, knowing Y/N liked having background noise to fall asleep to, but she wasn’t sleeping. She was content to watch time go by. Harry traced shapes on her bare stomach while she tried to bite back a giggle, though one escaped every few minutes. Her nipples were hard, and if Harry kept going, he would be getting her ready for another round.

“Are you ready for the Gala season?” Y/N asked. “We’ve got the last weeks of winter before you have to share my time.”

“Not going to happen,” he kissed her bare shoulder. “Speaking off, you’ve got dresses arriving from Paris in a few weeks. Called in a few favors, your favorite designers only. A special piece from Daniel Roseberry. I know Schiaparelli is your favorite.”

“What am I going to do with you?” Y/N teased, knowing it was no use fighting against him. It was one of the ways he showed he loved her. There was no stopping him. Plus, this would be something she treasured. She’d look after these dresses, hoping one day to pass them down to the generations in her family.

“Love me?” Harry smiled.

Loving him is the easiest thing she will ever do in life.

+ + +

thank you for reading, sweet angel 🫶

#harry styles #harry x reader #harry styles imagine #harry styles smut #harry styles writing #harry styles angst #harry styles fanfic #harry styles one shot #harry styles x reader #harry styles fic rec #harry imagine #angst #styles #harry styles fluff #harry fluff #harry smut #fic rec #ENJOY!

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corydora-writes · 7 months ago

Text

My Everything

Summary: You're Bruce Wayne's wife and a plus-size model. Tonight, you are attending a Wayne Charity Gala that you tenaciously put together! Bruce can't seem to take his eyes off you, and it's apparent that other affluent guests are equally captivated by you.

Pairing: Bruce Wayne x Plus Size Female Reader.

Warnings: Minors DNI! Fluff, and smut towards the end.

Word Count: 3,627

A/N: This is my first attempt at writing smut, and it's probably going to be my last. I much prefer writing fluff. Nonetheless, enjoy! x

Life as a plus-size model and being Bruce Wayne's wife often presented unique challenges. This year, you dedicated yourself to your modeling commitments for the Winter Season while actively participating in the meticulous planning and arrangements for the prestigious end-of-the-year Wayne Charity Gala. Balancing these roles was undeniably taxing, but the anticipation of quality time with your husband, free from his responsibilities as Batman, made it all worthwhile.

After flawlessly applying your makeup, your stylist carefully guided you in putting on the stunning dress while you were blindfolded. You eagerly anticipated the first glimpse of the dress, specifically chosen and tailored just for you.

"Okay, love," Salah exclaimed excitedly, "you can open your eyes now."

You gazed at your reflection in the mirror, and your mouth fell open in astonishment. The stunning silk dress draped in a luxurious emerald green hue was sleeveless, allowing the delicate stretch marks on your shoulders to peek through, a part of your beauty that you cherished and never concealed with makeup. The dress elegantly cinched at your waist, enhancing your figure and accentuating your bosom. With a playful and confident air, you kicked your leg forward through the intricate slit of the dress.

"Salah, you have outdone yourself once again," you said with genuine admiration. "Your talent is truly unparalleled."

You turned around to inspect the dress from behind.

"I don't recall seeing this exquisite piece on the runway this season. Am I the lucky one to be adorned in your remarkable prototype?"

"That's because it wasn't on the runway," Salah added. "And not a prototype."

You turned to look at him with an eyebrow raised in confusion.

"Who designed it, then?" You inquired.

"Your husband did."

"What?"

"A few months ago, he requested a custom-designed dress exclusively for you. I brought his vision to life."

A warm and tender sensation filled your heart.

"And," Salah began, " that's not the only thing he chose." His tone was mischievous.

"What do you mean?" you asked.

"He chose that sexy lace set you're wearing underneath." he grinned. "He's so going to unwrap you after the gala."

You coughed softly and forced a smile, hoping to conceal the hint of a blush creeping up your cheeks.

—

Bruce had just finished getting ready at his office after several lengthy meetings at Wayne Enterprises and made his way to the manor to pick you up. He couldn't help but think about the elegant dress he had carefully selected for you. Knowing it was from your favorite designer and good friend made him hope you would love it as much as he did.

He dispatched final instructions to Dick, Jason, and Damian. They had been tasked with patrolling the city until his return from the charity event.

Just take the entire night off, old man, Dick replied.

As he was getting ready to reply, he heard the door upstairs close. He instinctively slid his phone into his pocket and made his way to the base of the staircase, where the ornate wooden railing wound up to the upper floor.

Bruce found himself in rapt fascination as he watched you come down. Your gown was a work of art, embracing every curve of your figure with an effortless grace that demanded attention. A surge of longing coursed through him as he took in the sight of you.

Extending his hand, he met you at the final step, his touch both supportive and filled with quiet intensity as he assisted you.

Bruce's breath caught in his throat as he beheld you.

"Wow, you are breathtaking," he stammered, his voice betraying his unsteady awe at the sight of you.

You smiled mysteriously as you gracefully walked away from him, and then, with a slow and deliberate twirl, you revealed every inch of yourself, captivating his attention.

"I hope this dress meets your approval, Mr. Wayne." Your voice was sultry and seductive, causing a surge of arousal in Bruce.

"It more than meets my approval. You look positively stunning," he said earnestly, unable to take his eyes off you.

He gently drew you close, pulling you towards him with a soft yet firm touch. His hands found their place on your waist as you responded by tenderly wrapping your arms around his shoulders, feeling the reassuring strength in his embrace.

As he leaned in closer, his warm and tender lips made contact with your bare, delicately exposed shoulder, leaving a trail of gentle, affectionate kisses.

He whispered in your ear, "What you're wearing underneath is for my eyes only," his breath ghosting across your skin, "a treasure that belongs solely to me."

Your heart fluttered in your chest as you experienced a momentary pause. Bruce's possessive nature emanated from a profound depth of affection, conveying a wholesome desire to protect and adore you.

He stepped back, gazing into your eyes with a tender intensity.

"But I'm not entirely selfish," he murmured, his voice tinged with a hint of vulnerability. "I want the entire world to be captivated by the extraordinary beauty you possess," he confessed, his words lingering in the air. "But always remember, you belong to me, now and for all eternity." With a gentle yet firm grip on your waist, he drew you closer, his touch conveying both possession and adoration. Leaning in, he pressed his lips against yours. It was a kiss filled with passion and longing that conveyed all the emotions that Bruce had felt since he first laid eyes on you at the Art Gallery. And as you both pulled away, your eyes sparkled with adoration, your love for him evident in every gesture.

But your love for each other was not without its challenges. Your marriage was unconventional, but it didn't matter to either of you. Bruce had to balance his responsibilities as Batman and as your husband constantly. He tried to keep you at arm's length, afraid of putting you in danger, but you refused to back down. You were determined to stand by his side, no matter what, even if it meant sharing him with life as the Caped Crusader.

But you couldn't deny that the dual life made things complicated. Whenever Gotham was threatened and needed Batman's attention, he had to leave abruptly, leaving you worried and alone. You also spent countless nights alone, only seeing him in the mornings. But you never complained. You understood the importance of Bruce's mission and always remained supportive.

Each time Bruce laid eyes on you, the world seemed to fade away, leaving behind a singular focus on you. In those rare, cherished moments, he had the opportunity to give you his undivided attention, and it was as if he was experiencing the exhilaration of falling in love with you all over again.

"Something on your mind?" You asked him because you noticed that he was lost in thought.

Bruce shook away from his reveries.

"You," Bruce replied. "And how badly I want to explore every inch of your body and show you how much you mean to me," he said in a low and husky voice.

You blushed and smiled shyly at him.

"I'll be patient, Mrs. Wayne." He looked at you and smirked as if reveling in your obvious flushed face.

Bruce couldn't help but wrap his arm around your waist, pulling you closer as you both made your way to the car.

—

When you arrived, a relentless barrage of camera flashes greeted you. Bruce appeared at the door, extending a supportive hand to help you up and guiding you towards him. His touch was gentle yet protective as his hand settled on your waist. He made it his mission to shield you from any potential dangers, including the relentless intrusion of the paparazzi.

"Can we get photos of you both individually?" One of the photographers yelled.

Bruce got out of the way to let your photo get taken.

You struck a pose, your hand on your hip and your head held high, exuding elegance and grace. The photographer snapped away, capturing every angle. Your smile was radiant, and it was evident that you were genuinely enjoying yourself. As you gazed out into the crowd, you could see the positive reactions from those around you. People were clapping and cheering, admiring your beauty and confidence.

The photographer asked for a few more poses, and you happily obliged.

You shifted your gaze to Bruce and found him looking at you with an affectionate expression, a loving gleam in his eyes, and a gentle smile gracing his face. He had a tad look of mischief, likely undressing you in his mind. You returned the smile.

"Now you, Bruce!" One photographer yelled, interrupting the moment you were both sharing.

"Not tonight," Bruce answered and walked away with you.

Bruce kissed your forehead and wished you luck before leaving you to do your own thing while he mingled with the partners of Wayne Enterprises.

The night progressed with a series of speeches by prominent artists. When it was time for you to speak, your words echoed through the hushed hall, reminding everyone present why they were there: to give foster children a chance at a better life. The funds would go to build an independent living facility for children, particularly teenagers who could not find placements. You shared your experience as a former foster child who aged out of the system, and you vowed to change that reality for other foster kids.

The crowd responded with a chorus of applause. Bruce cheered you on and felt immense pride for all the hard work you had done.

The sophisticated guests wandered through the carefully curated art gallery, sipping fine champagne and other exquisite, high-priced liquors. As you contemplated a potential art addition to your office, your attention was drawn to a group of impeccably dressed women whispering and giggling, their envious eyes fixed on you. Feeling a pang of annoyance, you rolled your eyes and massaged your temples as their conversation reached your ears. It seemed like these events always managed to attract the same types of people: the typical wealthy individuals who generously spent money for a good cause to make themselves feel good, the ones who came with the mission to find any gossip, and those who murmured opinions on how you were an unlikely match for Bruce.

"Excuse me," you said in a warm tone and gave them a friendly smile, trying not to disrupt the moment. I couldn't help but notice that all of you have been staring at me." You uttered these words cautiously, in case someone discreetly captured the moment with their camera.

The women looked at each other, caught off guard by your courage to confront them.

"Oh, we couldn't help but notice your gorgeous dress. May I ask where you found it?" one of the women inquired, attempting to divert from their earlier discussion.

You let out a light chuckle, a knowing smile spreading across your face as you realize they are being untruthful. "Thank you for your kind words," you respond, unable to resist mentioning, "but I overheard your conversation."

The women's eyes darted anxiously, repeatedly adjusting their position to avoid meeting your gaze and showing unease.

"I couldn't help but overhear you discussing my husband, Bruce Wayne, and speculating about why he chose to be with someone like me," you said in a composed and collected tone, your voice steady despite the emotions swirling inside you.

The women were visibly shocked by your unexpected confrontation. Their eyes widened, and their expressions turned to disbelief. They stood there, motionless, struggling to find the right words.

"I'm flattered…" you began.

The women gazed at each other, their brows furrowed in confusion as they exchanged perplexed looks, trying to make sense of the situation.

"You purchased a $15,000 ticket to this charity event, but instead of supporting the cause, you made my appearance the topic of conversation," you said calmly.

One of the women cleared her throat. As they sipped their drinks, a flush of crimson spread across their faces, betraying their unease.

Bruce's strong, comforting arm encircled your waist, and as he leaned down, you felt the warmth of his lips as he placed a tender and affectionate kiss on your cheek.

"Ladies," he remarked with a warm smile. "You all look lovely."

"Thank you", the women said shyly.

"What were you all talking about, if I may?" Bruce asked.

"Love," you began. "The ladies were curious to know why you married me."

Bruce's eyes met yours with a deep, enamored gaze.

"Yes, she is undeniably beautiful, and she's currently the most sought-after model," he said, pausing to gather his thoughts. "But my wife, she's not just outwardly stunning. Her compassionate nature, selflessness, and genuine care for others demonstrate that she possesses a heart that is truly pure and kind. She's an extraordinary mother to our children. I feel truly understood and seen for who I am in her presence."

You gazed at Bruce for a long moment, your expression tender.

"I'm the luckiest man in the world." He leaned to press his lips against yours.

"Mr. Wayne," someone from afar called him.

"Excuse me, ladies." He turned to look at them. "Please enjoy the rest of your night."

Once Bruce reached a far distance, they turned to look at you.

One of the women cleared her throat nervously before speaking with a shaky voice to apologize to you.

"Me too." The second woman said.

"So am I," the other one said.

"If your apology is sincere, I will accept it as cash, credit, or check." You smiled and kept your tone neutral.

Ordinarily, you wouldn't have directly addressed the situation. With age and experience, you worked diligently to develop self-love and gratitude for your body, so the pressures of society and critical gazes lost their significance eons ago. But you felt playful tonight, so you decided to leverage fatphobia to benefit the charity.

—

The elegant gala was winding down, with most guests having departed. Bruce found himself at the bustling bar, conversing with a group of enthusiastic investors who had pledged generous donations to the charity.

Bruce excused himself from the gathering and found a quiet, secluded area. He reached for his phone and found a message from Dick:

We're all fine. Goons being goons. Take the damn night, old man. Seriously.

Just as he was about to send a message, the murmur of the investors nearby caught his attention. Their conversation revealed their admiring remarks about your enchanting allure, casting a shadow of unease over Bruce's thoughts.

"How long do you give it until they split?" One said.

"Trust fund kid turned CEO with a model?" one man quipped. "I give it two years at most."

"I can already imagine the tabloid headlines."

They laughed.

"I call dibs."

Bruce's ears twitched. A flicker of anger crossed his face before he schooled his expression into one of haughty indifference.

"Hey darling," you uttered sweetly and sat next to him.

Bruce maintained his silence, offering no words in response.

"Bruce," you asked, your voice tinged with worry. "Are our sons okay? Did something happen to them?"

Bruce's unease dissipated as he gazed into your widened eyes, which had been filled with concern. He was filled with an overwhelming sense of guilt for causing you distress.

"No, the boys are fine."

He carefully observed the rhythmic rise and fall of your chest, exhaling a sigh of relief.

"Then what's wrong?" You asked again.

"I'm..." he hesitated. "I'm jealous."

"What of?" you asked.

"You see those men over there at the bar?"

You nodded.

"Your presence tonight set their tongues wagging."

You chuckled. Your laughter was a sweet melody to Bruce's ears.

"I belong to you, my love." You said. "And I always will."

He gently took your hand and led you away from the crowd and into a private space, away from prying eyes and ears.

"You're intoxicating," his eyes smoldering with desire and a hint of possessiveness. "I can't bear the thought of you belonging to anyone but me."

You smiled, your gaze locking with his. You caressed his face, savoring the fiery moment.

"I'm terrified of losing you," he confessed, his voice trembling with raw emotion. "I constantly feel guilt and fear that I'm holding you back from a life of normalcy, perhaps with another man."

You were fully attentive while Bruce shared his thoughts, never interrupting him. It had taken him a long time to be vulnerable with you. Your unwavering resolve since the beginning gradually chipped away at his defenses. The once stoic, reserved man of few words, shrouded in an aura of melancholy and enigma, let his facade crumble until you saw the man behind the mask. You had become a balm to his wounds.

"Bruce," the soft hum of his name escaped your lips as you gently reached out to hold his hand. "We are anything but ordinary, and that's what I adore about us. I don't crave a conventional relationship. I want you."

Enveloping him in your embrace, your love acted as a guiding light, casting out the lingering shadows that plagued his soul.

He leaned in to place a gentle kiss on your forehead.

"Let's go home," he said.

_______

You and Bruce retreated to the privacy of the opulent Wayne Manor. As you gracefully slipped out of the designer gown, revealing your ample body, Bruce's gaze lingered on you with unabashed desire.

You made your way to him, sat on his lap, and helped remove his tie.

"you're stunning," Bruce breathed.

His hands explored every dip and curve with a reverence that made you feel worshiped.

He marveled at the feeling of your softness against his firm touch, the contrast between you igniting a fire within him.

"As much as I love this lingerie on you, I think it would look even better on the floor," Bruce whispered in your ear.

With a flick of his fingers, he undid the clasp of your bra, letting it fall open and reveal your breasts. He ran his hands over them, feeling the softness of your flesh, and then leaned down to take one of your nipples into his mouth. You let out a soft moan as he teased your nipple with his tongue.

You reached down and started to undo his pants, freeing his hard, throbbing cock. You stroked it gently, feeling it twitch in your hand as he moaned with pleasure.

You kissed Bruce, his lips soft and gentle against yours. He could feel your body responding to his touch as your breath became increasingly ragged. He felt the heat between you two building, and he broke the kiss to look into your eyes.

"You're so beautiful," he reminds you again.

Then he lays you back gently, and you look up at him with desire. You help him unbutton his shirt and take it off, revealing his toned chest, and you can't help but run your hands over it, sending shivers down his spine.

He moved down your body, his lips and tongue leaving a trail of fire in their wake. He reached to your belly, leaving trails of kisses.

'I love your body,' he murmured.

He continued down, teasing you through the fabric of your panties. You gasped, your hips bucking as he finally slipped a finger under the fabric and into your wet heat.

He slowly fingered you, his thumb rubbing circles on your clit as you moaned and writhed beneath him. You were so wet, so ready for him. He couldn't wait any longer. He hooked his fingers under the waistband of your panties and pulled them down, throwing them aside.

He climbed back up your body, his hardness pressing against your wetness. You wrapped your legs around him, pulling him closer, urging him on. With one swift thrust, he was inside you. You cried out, your nails digging into his back as he began to fuck you with long, hard strokes.

Your bodies moved together in a rhythm, your moans and gasps of pleasure filling the room. Bruce could feel an orgasm building inside him, tightening as he slammed into you again and again.

You pushed him off of you before he climaxed and climbed on top of him, straddling his hips and grinding your pelvis against his hard cock. Bruce could feel the heat radiating from your wet pussy, and he ached to be inside you.

'I love how you feel on top of me,' he murmured, his breath hot. "I love your softness, your curves, your warmth."

You reached down and guided Bruce's cock inside your wet slit. He groaned with pleasure as you sank down onto him, taking him all the way in. You began to ride him, your hips moving in slow, deliberate circles. Your hands braced on Bruce's chest. You began to ride him harder, your hips slamming down onto his cock with force. Bruce could feel himself getting close to the edge, feeling himself tighten with pleasure.

With a final, powerful thrust, Bruce came hard inside you, his cock twitching as he filled you. You collapsed onto him, your own orgasm washing over you in waves.

"I love you,' he gasped, his breath hot against your neck. 'You are my everything."

In that intimate embrace, he held you with a fervent tenderness, a sensation he never wanted to fade from memory. His heart overflowed with a desire to immortalize this profound moment: the gentle weight of your presence in his arms, the vulnerability shining in your eyes as you yielded to the depth of his affection, and the unspoken declaration of love reflected on your radiant face.

"I love you," you whispered back, your voice choked with emotion. "I love you so much."

#Bruce Wayne x plus size reader #Batman x plus size reader #plus size reader #corydora writes

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