#they all take incredible pride in their appearances

[matchbet-allofthetime]

Random Fallout HC:

The King, Pacer, Benny, Swank, Butch, and Zeke are all dandies.

[ash-and-starlight]

oh my god no way..,the lion,,,, is homosexual ,, 🫢

happy lunar new year! did you know that despite what wikipedia says the lion dance is a relatively recent practice, and was in fact invented in @ranilla-bean’s fic Pride of Place? click the link for more fun facts!

[flowersforbucky]

starry eyed

bucky barnes x reader

word count: 3.2k

summary: reader gets a special gift from her secret santa

warnings/tags: mostly just fluff, mutual pining, friends to lovers, avenger!reader, no use of y/n, one minor injury, language, kissing and some sensuality

author's note: short little feel good christmas fic! everyone is alive and happy because i say so. i originally got the idea for this fic last winter, but i hadn't got back into writing at that time. happy that i was able to put it into words finally.

my masterlist

“So, whose name did you draw?”

You shove your hand into an oven mitt, grabbing a large dish out of the oven. Everyone had been assigned to bring a different breakfast food to the Christmas morning potluck.

Sam brought chocolate chip pancakes, Steve brought a shit ton of sausage links, and Sharon brought a giant fruit platter to name a few. You figured that the easiest, cheapest way to help feed a group of a dozen people is a couple tubes of Pillsbury cinnamon rolls.

“That kinda takes the secret out of Secret Santa.”

Bucky leans on the island in the middle of the compound’s kitchen, drinking his second cup of coffee of the morning. His breakfast dish of choice? A sack of two dozen McDonald’s hash browns.

“I was just testing you,” Bucky jokes. “You passed. Do you want to know who got your name?”

“No!” You whack his stomach with the oven mitt and he feigns injury. “I do not. Have I passed all of your tests?”

“I’m proud,” Bucky says after a big gulp of coffee. “You’re stronger than Sam, at least. He’s been asking everyone who drew his name for the last week.”

You roll your eyes. “He does that every year and no one ever tells him.”

Your friends begin filing into the kitchen, everyone grabbing plates and piling them high with all of the food scattered across the island. After making your plate, you retreat to the living room and nestle yourself between Natasha and Sharon on the couch.

Everyone is so occupied with stuffing their faces that there’s hardly any conversation. You halfway pay attention to the Hallmark Christmas rom-com playing on the television as you devour a stack of pancakes and hash browns.

Truthfully, you had hoped to draw Bucky’s name from the hat. You had a gift in mind for him already, and if you’d gotten his name then it would have presented you with the perfect opportunity to give it to him without any pressure for him to give you a gift in return.

You ended up drawing Sharon's name, but you decided to get the present for Bucky, anyway – a vintage tabletop phonograph from the forties that you’d snagged for an incredible deal on eBay. You didn’t put it under the gargantuan Christmas tree with all of the other gifts. It sits in your bedroom, waiting for you to give it to him later today when you’re not surrounded by all of your close friends.

To no one’s surprise, Sam and Peter are the first people to finish eating and immediately begin handing out all of the presents under the tree. You’re still finishing up your breakfast when Peter practically throws a small box wrapped in snowmen print paper towards you.

It's addressed to you, from your Secret Santa. Right off the bat, you’re sure that the gift didn’t come from Natasha – you know how much pride that she puts into gift wrapping. Not that this gift is wrapped poorly, but compared to Natasha’s typically extravagant bows, you’re confident that she wasn't the one who wrapped this present.

You also notice that the handwriting appears to be more on the masculine side. It looks familiar, though you can’t say with confidence who it belongs to.

“Alright, who wants to go first?” Sam says loudly enough to quiet all the chatter going on. “No one would spoil my gift for me and I’m getting impatient.”

You and Bucky share a knowing glance and eye roll at his words. He sits in a recliner directly across from you, holding the gift from his own Secret Santa.

“I’ll go first,” you offer excitedly, giving the box in your lap a small shake that gives nothing away.

You carelessly tear at the wrapping paper until it’s in pieces by your feet on the floor.

“What’d you get?” Sam asks.

You don’t respond at first, taking in the packaging of the box.

A northern lights projector.

You feel warmth spread across your cheeks and you can’t help but smile down at the gift in your hands, no longer having any doubt about who this gift came from.

One Month Ago

“These Spaghettios expired a couple weeks ago. Do you think we should risk it?”

You stand in the small kitchen of the Alaskan safe house, rifling through the limited options in the pantry. Some instant oatmeal packets, a few cans of Beanee Weenees, and the aforementioned expired Spaghettios are tonight’s dinner choices.

You can’t say you’re surprised – you’ve been doing this job for a while, and poorly stocked safe houses are pretty much the standard in this line of work. It doesn't help that this is the fifth night that you and Bucky have spent in this particular safe house, and you've eaten through all of the better options at this point.

“If you want to risk getting food poisoning in addition to that sprained ankle, then you go for it. I'll be sticking to the oatmeal.” Bucky reaches around you, grabbing a packet of maple and brown sugar oatmeal from the shelf that you stand in front of.

He's right. The oatmeal is the safest option.

One more night of this, you remind yourself. Tomorrow night, you'd be back in the comfort of your room, where you can DoorDash Chinese food.

You sigh, grabbing the remaining packet of oatmeal.

“You know, I wouldn't even mind the food situation nearly as much if I could just see the lights. Five nights here and nothing,” you grumble.

It’s your first time in Alaska, and you had high hopes for being able to see the northern lights. Each night so far, after long days of recon, you’ve stayed up past the point of exhaustion checking to see if they’re visible.

So far, the weather had been nothing but rainy and dreary, making the sky close to impossible to see at night. The clouds finally let up some today, but you've still seen no hint of an aurora. Just inky blackness, a crescent moon, and a steady downpour of snow that began a few hours ago.

“You could always get one of those projectors,” he teases with a shrug. “Northern lights, galaxies, constellations… all right there on your bedroom ceiling.”

Even though he won’t say it, you know he wants to see the northern lights as badly as you do. He's made it obvious by the way he glances out the window every so often to check.

You’ve been hoping that they’d make an appearance for him as much as for yourself. He's technically seen them before – decades ago. But never as himself. Never as Bucky.

“Those are neat,” you agree glumly. “I've just always wanted to see them in person. Kinda a bucket list thing.”

Getting to witness them with him would be the cherry on top, but you don’t add that part.

Bucky insists that you sit down on the couch and ice your ankle while he prepares the instant oatmeal for the two of you. You’re too tired to protest, so you retreat to the sofa and flip through the limited number of channels on the old TV with your foot propped up.

Fucking black ice. The last day of this mission and everything had gone swimmingly up until you slipped on a patch of clear ice earlier today, twisting your ankle.

You’re just thankful that it happened in front of Bucky, and not Sam. You can only imagine the teasing that would have ensued if it had been Sam that saw you eat shit.

The two of you eat by the warmth of the dwindling fire while watching a Seinfeld re-run.

You’re over three thousand miles from New York, but it doesn’t feel like you’re far from home at all. Bucky and you have been mission partners for quite some time now, and he has a way of making you feel like you’re at home, no matter where you’re actually at. His presence is familiar and comforting – whether you’re at the compound, or in a different country, or in Alaska – the familiarity and comfort of home is there, as long as he is.

“I’m gonna go get some more wood for the fire before bed,” Bucky says when he finishes scarfing down his food. You give him a quick nod, your mouth still crammed full of oatmeal. “You stay here and try not to sprain anything else,” he teases with a glance at your foot that’s elevated on the coffee table in front of you.

You shoot him an obscene gesture once his back is to you. “You act like my leg got cut off,” you grumble as he exits the house.

No more than ten seconds pass before you hear him call your name from beyond the front door. You look over your shoulder with wide eyes and he all but sprints back into the house with an animated expression.

“What? What is it?”

“The lights. They’re visible,” he exclaims. He walks over to the couch, taking your bowl from you and sitting it on the end table next to you before you can process what’s happening. He offers his flesh hand to you in an attempt to help you up.

“Holy shit, really? You better not be messing with me.” You push yourself up off the couch, momentarily forgetting all about your ankle.

“I’m not messing with you,” he snorts. “Come see for yourself.”

Bucky wraps his arm around your waist and you throw yours over his shoulder, helping you walk to the porch without putting too much pressure on your injured foot. You lean into him, his body heat providing a nice reprieve from the night air as you step outside.

You don’t pull away, and neither does he.

Side by side, you stare up at the seemingly endless expanse of swirling rivers of blue and green. The auroral rays seem to dance across the sky, electrifying the night with the shimmering veils of color.

“Wow,” you whisper in awe. Wow doesn’t begin to cover how ethereal the phenomenon is, but you’re at a loss for words. It’s one of the most beautiful things you’ve ever seen.

You're acutely aware of the bitter chill of the cold wind. If it weren't for the fact that Bucky feels like a personal space heater, your teeth would be chattering. But with the view before you, you find it hard to care.

“I’d give anything to be able to see this where we live,” you breathe. You glance up at him to find him already looking at you.

“Wouldn't you?” You ask him.

“I really would.”

Present Day

“Oooh,” Natasha coos beside you, snapping you out of your memory. “A northern lights projector. I wonder who that could be from.”

You can tell by her tone of voice that she knows exactly who it’s from – even if you hadn't blatantly told her about seeing the northern lights on your mission with Bucky last month, she's too smart to not be able to figure it out herself.

You playfully elbow her in the side, silencing her teasing but the smirk on her face remains.

“Thank you, Santa,” you say with a glance at Bucky. “I love it.”

The rest of your friends open their presents one by one. You try your hardest to pay attention, but all you can think about is how perfect you think the gift that Bucky picked out for you is. He could have just given you a gift card, or a generic gag gift, but what he gave you is personal, and sentimental, and thoughtful.

When all of the Christmas morning festivities have come to an end, you retreat back to your bedroom with your presents. Despite getting many great gifts from your friends, the one from your Secret Santa is by far your favorite.

You unbox the projector and set it up on your nightstand before plugging it in. As soon as you press the power button, the ceiling of your room is covered in shades of blue and green that mimic the natural hues of the northern lights that you had witnessed first hand just a month prior.

You flick your light switch off, making it easier to envision yourself standing under the Alaska sky. Of course, there’s nothing like seeing the real thing, but it’s still pretty, and the meaning behind the gift is what makes you happier than anything.

Smiling to yourself beneath the undulating ribbons of turquoise and emerald, you can’t help but replay the memory of standing under the aurora with Bucky.

How he got so excited when he went outside and realized the lights were visible, the contrast of his warm body against the cold night air as he helped you stand on your hurt foot, and the way that he was smiling at you instead of taking in the scene before him –

Your phone chimes from your back pocket, drawing you back to reality.

A projection probably doesn’t really compare to the real thing, huh?

You smile at your phone, sitting down on your bed. You think of how you should respond when you remember the present you bought for Bucky that sits in your closet.

Come and see for yourself, you respond.

With his room being just a short distance down the hallway, it’s only a few moments before you hear a soft knock against your door.

“Come in,” you say softly.

You’re suddenly overcome with a wave of nerves, and you tell yourself it’s because you’re antsy about giving him the present you'd picked out for him.

Bucky eases into the room, closing the door behind him. He takes in the display across your ceiling with his hands shoved in his pockets – a nervous habit of his that you’ve noticed many times before, though you can’t pinpoint why he’d be nervous right now.

“Pretty cool,” he admits. He takes a seat in front of you on the edge of your bed and finally meets your gaze. “Can’t say it quite compares to the real thing, but at least it’s a whole lot warmer here.”

“The food is considerably better here, too,” you joke. “But really, thank you. It’s definitely the best Secret Santa gift I’ve ever received,” you add, cringing when you remember the toilet shaped coffee mug that Sam had gotten you two years ago.

You use it regularly, of course. But you like Bucky’s gift far more.

“And I got you a present, too,” you add in a small voice before you can chicken out. “I know I wasn’t your Secret Santa, so I hope you don’t think it’s weird. It’s okay if you don’t like—”

“Can I tell you something?” He interrupts you. He’s grinning big – the kind of grin that brings out the lines around his eyes. You snap your mouth shut and answer with a quick nod.

“I wasn’t your Secret Santa originally,” he sighs. “Natasha was. But I convinced her to switch names with me.”

“But why—”

“I got your present as soon as we got back from Alaska, but then I started overthinking it… just thought it would be easier to give it to you if I had the excuse of being your Secret Santa,” he shrugs.

You’re momentarily stunned. It dawns on you – he’d been worried about the exact thing you had. You’d been so worried about him being weirded out by you getting him a gift that you waited until you were alone to give it to him, and he’d been so worried about getting you a gift that he convinced someone else to let him have your name in Secret Santa.

How silly of both of you, you think.

He sits by you on your bed, waiting for your response with a patient, albeit uncertain expression. Your eyes flicker from his eyes to his lips.

It had been a fleeting thought when you stared into his eyes under the colorful Alaskan sky – how beautiful it would be to kiss someone under such a serene and mesmerizing sky. How beautiful it would be to kiss him, here. It was a thought that you shoved down, out of fear for crossing a line and making yourself look like an idiot.

It's a thought that is once again at the forefront of your mind, sitting beside him in your bedroom under the imitation aurora.

Under the true northern lights, or under your bedroom ceiling in New York – it doesn’t matter. You think kissing him would be beautiful anywhere.

And so you do.

Or he does – you’re not actually sure who leans forward first. But you are sure that he still tastes faintly of maple syrup and coffee from breakfast, and that when he cups your face in his flesh hand and tilts it to give him a better angle to sweep his tongue along your bottom lip, your brain turns to static white noise.

You let him set the pace – it’s slow and soft, like he’s trying to memorize the map that his tongue draws inside your mouth. You place one of your hands on the back of his neck, intertwining your fingers in the short tufts of hair.

Still holding your face in his hand, he pulls away with a gentle tug of your bottom lip between his teeth and looks at you in the blue-green glow of the projector’s illumination.

“Was that my present?” he smiles, rubbing his thumb across your cheek. You laugh, reeling in the afterglow of the kiss.

You drop your hand from his neck, and hold up a singular finger to him, indicating for him to give you a moment. You walk over to your closet, retrieving the large gift bag containing the phonograph.

When you walk back over to your bed, you turn on your bedside table lamp for a bit more light before handing him the bag.

He smiles, blushing faintly as he pulls the tissue paper out of the gift bag. He eases the package out of the bag slowly, as if he’s scared the contents will break. You watch as he takes his time with the unboxing, now feeling a fresh wave of nervousness at the anticipation of him seeing the gift.

His smile only grows once he realizes what it is.

“My ma used to have one just like this,” he murmurs in awe. He grabs your hand in his and brings it to his lips, pressing a kiss to your knuckles. “Thank you. It's perfect.”

He turns to place it behind him on your mattress before pulling your face to his once more. It’s shorter than the kiss before, but just as tender and sweet.

“But just so you know, you could have just given me a kiss, and I would’ve been just as thrilled.”

••••••

thanks for reading!! i had fun writing this cute little piece ♡

[pullupinarari]

The ones I would die for [LH]

author’s note: fluffy dad!Lewis, cheeky husband!Lewis, just a small thing about the first Ferrari impressions. this might be shit and it’s barely proofread!

beware: this gets a bit more suggestive towards the end!

• masterlist

wc: 2774 - English is not my first language! Feedback is always appreciated

Being in Maranello feels different. In your heart, pumps the sensation of discovering a whole new world, the excitement of unveiling a new path in your life, one where you and your family will, for sure, be very happy. 

Today is the first time that Lewis will get to drive a Ferrari, for some simple tests, but still, it’s an important day for him, and for you. Seeing your husband in red for the first time was almost as if you were meeting his powerful presence for the first time again, seeing how good the color suits him, how happy and relieved he looks now, even in the middle of the nerves and anxiety running through his body, having to find out everything all over again. 

But having his family by his side, definitely makes it all so much easier. His mums, Carmen and Linda and his dad Anthony made sure to be present at their boy’s first test in a red car, meeting you and Grace inside the garage to watch him doing what he’s best at. 

There’s a feeling of happiness that could almost be palpable in the air, the most important people of Lewis’ life all sharing the lightest of hearts at the way all of you have been so warmly welcomed to the Ferrari family so far, almost feeling as if life is making up for everything that happened on the last few seasons of his career. 

The fans that didn’t want to miss their favorite driver’s first practice in the italian team, waved flags, cheered, chanted your husband’s name - and it does feel special, even if he’s just warming up to feel the car, and your eyes can’t help but shine bright at the images showing on the screen in front of you. 

In your arms, rests the ever-attentive toddler, Miss Grace Hamilton, who asked you to please help her choose her best outfit - insisting on wearing a red sweater and picking up some yellow ribbons in her small fingers for you to do her hair with them. Something about wanting to match daddy, as she kept mentioning. 

Close to her little body, the three-year-old is holding a small stuffed Ferrari horse that the team made sure to give her yesterday, after she visited the factory in her dad’s arms. Grace is a very curious kid, so he immediately thought of his daughter, to bring her along to meet every new thing and everyone at the factory with him, already turning all the attention to her as people would find her adorable and incredibly funny. And this isn’t new. Ever since your child was born, Lewis and her quickly became inseparable, so it’s usual to see his princess glued to the man’s hip. 

The session soon enough comes to an end, and once your husband is back in the garage, leaving the car, his instinct tells him to go meet you, so he can hold Grace in his arms and take you outside, to greet the fans that have been there, just to see him.

A small frown appears on Lewis’ features when he sees his little one fast asleep in your chest. 

- Take your mums with you, love. This is also a special day for them. - you tell him, a soft smile playing on your lips as you see him hugging the two women that are visibly moved by this moment in Lewis’ life.

And the sight is the most adorable thing ever: your husband, being cherished by the tifosi, and his two mums, both filming and taking pictures of this moment, their faces lighting up as they’re beaming with pride. It truly is heartwarming to see Lewis’ family enjoying these moments with him, something that doesn’t happen as much as he would like. 

After thanking the fans for the love they have been showing him, the driver comes back, arms on the two ladies’ shoulders, giving them a squeeze, thanking them for always being there for him, for making him the man he is today.

It’s an emotional day for everyone on Lewis’ side, but you know that he can’t wait until he’s back in your new house, so he can feel safe in the secluded comfort of your space, dedicating all his attention to his wife and daughter. 

Said and done. Once the door to your house closes behind him, Lewis finally lets out a sigh, feeling like he can let it all out, right now. The emotions, the anxiety, the restless nights he spent picturing this day, these moments. It’s done. It’s okay. He can finally allow himself to breathe correctly after overcoming the nerves of the first day at the new team. 

Grace is now awake, running around the house as soon as you put her down, excited for you to show her the gift that you mentioned earlier in the car ride back home, trying to win the girl’s attention when she started growing fussy.

- Here, pumpkin. - you said, couching down so you’re eye level with the little one. - Nanas got this for you. Do you like it? - you show her the small, custom made red Ferrari jacket that Lewis’ mums bought for their granddaughter, wanting Grace to be rigorously dressed for her daddy’s new era. 

Expressing an audible gasp, your daughter is immediately reaching for the piece of clothing, wanting to touch it with her own hands. Her mouth is agape, amazed by the red piece in front of her - matching daddy’s suit perfectly. 

- It’s so pretty!! Mummy, can you help me put it on, please? - the girl asks you, running to the nearest surface she can see her reflection in, looking to the oven door to try and see the final result of her outfit. Giggling, Lewis takes her in his arms, walking to a decent mirror so his baby can see herself.  - Look at you, bubs! You’re definitely rocking this outfit - he laughs at the silly faces his child does, kissing the girl’s temple as she asks him to put her down again. 

Running back to you, your daughter stops in front of your eyes, posing with her new jacket that she seems obsessed with already. Smiling at her actions, you are quick to snap a few pictures with your phone, sending them to your mums-in-law, informing them of how much Grace loved their gift. 

- You look great in red, princess. - Lewis says, joining you on the couch, his arm wrapping around your body instinctively while his lips form the widest smile at the sight of his happy baby. - I am matching you now, daddy! Can I have more red clothes? I only want to wear this color now. - the toddler blurts out, making both you and your husband chuckle in unison. - But you have so many nice clothes, love, in such pretty colors - Grace’s dad tries to reason with the three-year-old, who is fast to side-eye him. - Nah, those clothes don’t fit my personality anymore. I have to slay, daddy! And I slay in red - your daughter’s remark makes you burst out of laughter, replying ‘slayyyyy’ as your husband looks at you as if you had lost your mind. 

Whenever Lewis is away, you and Grace end up watching the most random videos on the internet of people commenting about clothes in a comic way - that’s how you found out that your kid has a very judgmental taste when it comes to fashion, and that’s how your child learned what ‘slay’ means. 

Furrowing his eyebrows and sighing, your husband moves so his lips are closer to your face. 

- I think you two need to go outside more and touch some grass when I’m not home, Jesus Christ - he whispers in your ear, making you laugh again, only for your sounds to be met with your husband’s giggles shortly after. 

Sighing softly, you wrap your arms around your husband’s neck, knowing how he must be craving some physical touch - one of his love languages. Gently massaging his shoulders, you see how he melts, slowly leaning his body further into yours, so he can have some more contact with your figure. 

Grace is quick to distract Lewis’ mind, climbing on her daddy’s lap to win his attention again. 

- Daddy, why were you driving slow today? - the girl asks him, making a soft smile appear on his face.  - Today was just a test, bubs. I went slower because daddy only wanted to feel the car and drive around for a bit, that’s all - Lewis explained, seeing the way his daughter’s eyebrows lifted, not believing his words.  - Is it because you’re old, daddy? Are you scared of the car going vroom vroom? - the toddler giggles teasingly, even while receiving a stern ‘Grace!’ from you, having warned her already that it’s not nice to say that her dad is old. 

But your soft touch on his skin is enough to make Lewis not bother about being called old again by his child. Instead, he just smiles, nudging the girl’s nose with the tip of his finger, making her shrink her small figure to hide her face. 

- You’re a menace, Miss Grace. I promise I’ll drive faster next time, okay? Do we have a deal? - he suggests, seeing her nod her head ‘yes’ at his offer.  - Yes, daddy! Because I can run faster than the car when you go slow! - she affirms, leaving her dad’s lap to get ready to show him her running abilities. 

Laughing more at her antics, Lewis teases his mini-version. 

- You can’t even run faster than me, girl. Your legs are so tiny, see? - he points at Grace’s body with a playful expression on his face. - Tiny, tiny legs - Lewis insists. 

Your daughter’s face grows angry, feeling competitive already to show her daddy how wrong he is. 

- Wanna bet? - the three-year-old tries her best to put on her most fierceful facial expression, surprising her dad with her seriousness. Still, he decides to play along. - Okay, miss. Stretch your tiny legs because you just won yourself a run through the corridor - your husband points to the long hallway of your house, before reaching to shake his daughter’s hand. 

The sight in front of you looks hilarious, seeing your baby girl and your husband stretching their bodies while looking competitively at each other, before you were signaling the beginning of their small race. 

Grace’s tiny body gives its all so she can start ahead of her dad, and Lewis gives small strides through the way, giving his daughter the advantage, before pretending to trip over his own feet, safely falling on the carpet floor when the toddler crosses the imaginary finish line. 

- Ohhh, you’re too fast for me to keep up, speedy Gracie- Lewis pretends to groan, stretching his hand for the little one to help him.  - See? I told you daddy! I’m veeeery fast! Faster than the car, so you need to go faster as well! - the girl advises him, acting like his race engineer, while her small hands try to help her dad off the floor. 

Getting up from his spot, Lewis picks up Grace, holding the toddler in his arms safely, kissing her forehead as he sighs after their mini run.

- You’re right, bubs. I should listen to your advice more often - he giggles, noticing the way she nods her head affirmatively. 

Moving back to the sofa, your husband’s body is quick to lean on yours again, safely holding his daughter while his head leans on your shoulder. Grace ends up calming down as well, too busy paying attention to each detail of her new jacket. 

Lewis leaves soft kisses on your skin from time to time, your fingers gently caressing his braids, until the most comfortable of all silences is surrounding the three of you, finally allowing yourselves to let all the emotions of the day settle down on your souls, realizing the importance of this day.

Soon enough, your daughter is fast asleep in Lewis’ chest, signaling it was bedtime for all of you - a deserving one, after all of today’s events. With a gentle kiss to her forehead after slowly changing Grace into her pink pajamas, trying his best not to wake her up, the man tucked his princess in her bed, wishing her the sweetest of dreams. 

In your new bed, you’re already waiting for your Ferrari driver to show up at the door, seeing the soft smile that shows up on his features as soon as he does, closing the door behind him. 

He’s still in his new red shirt, seeing how your eyes seem to shine a bit more when you look at him when he is wearing his new attire. And as he slowly starts to take off his clothes, changing into his pajamas as well, the soft smile quickly becomes a cheeky one, eyeing you while pulling the shirt off his body. 

- Like what you see? - he teases, a soft giggle escaping his lips as he sees the way your cheeks grow a bit more pink.  - You look so good in red - you confess, welcoming him beside you under the sheets, as he opens his arms for you. - I’m so happy for you. And so, so proud. 

An honest smile now breaks through his features, not expecting to hear these words right now, even if he knows damn well that this is how you feel. But still, hearing such a heartfelt statement from his wife, while your head is resting on his chest, your hand caressing his beard, in this moment that belongs only to the two of you… it warms his heart. 

- I wouldn't be able to do any of this without you, love. Especially with Grace and all, moving our family to a different country it’s already as hard as it is. I am only able to do what I love because you hold everything down for me. And I will always be so thankful to you, for this and for so much more. - his warm hand cups your cheek, bringing your face closer to his, so your lips can finally meet in a loving kiss. 

You take your time with each other, finally having some time for yourselves. Your tongues dance at a passionate rhythm, your fingers spread soft, thoughtful touches along the skin of his body, while he embraces your waist with his strong hands. It’s slow, romantic, and everything you two have been missing, in the midst of all the anxiety surrounding the thousand different things you had to prepare for the last few days.

Breaking the kiss to catch some air, Lewis’ nose nudges yours, continuously feeding himself off of your warmth. 

- You know baby, you look great in red too… - he whispers, his lips travelling down your neck, his slender fingers pulling your shirt up until he is able to reveal a part of the red lingerie that you are wearing.

Maybe you did it on purpose, wanting to prepare a nice surprise for your husband to end this special day, or maybe it was just a silly coincidence… Either way, he seems hungry for you, his head travelling alongside your collarbone now, trying to kiss your boobs, until he has had enough of the barrier created by the fabric of your loose shirt, finally pulling it out of your body completely. 

He looks at you with fire glistening in his eyes, as if he just got to see the most perfect and enticing goddess of all. Even after all these years, you can’t help but grow a bit shy at his intense gaze, biting down your lip in anticipation. 

- You, miss, are such a menace - he laughs softly in your ear before burying his face in your chest, kissing all over your boobs, making a sultry chuckle escape your lips. - I don’t know what you’re talking about - you say innocently, winking at him when he looks up at you.  - Yeah, and I’ll pretend I didn’t see you carefully choosing this set in the middle of all your lingerie this morning, when I left the shower - your husband lifted an eyebrow at you, seeing how you ran out of replies in a matter of seconds. 

He is the one biting your lip now, gently sucking on it while moving your body so he can tower over you.

- I might be a Ferrari driver now, but you’re still the only trophy I keep looking forward to touching, baby girl - he states, yearning to show you just how badly he has been missing you, how he desperately needs to make up for the last few days - definitely preparing a long night for the both of you.

[amirasainz]

Can you please do leclerc sister is the baby of the family, her brothers baby, she comes home from university and her brothers are so excited and so clingy

Enjoy reading and send some requests!!!

- xoxo babygirl ♥️

Coming Home to Monaco 🇲🇨

The early morning sun kissed the coast of Monaco, lighting up the crystal-clear waters of the Mediterranean. Yn Leclerc parked her black Mercedes Jeep in front of the family’s home, her heart racing with excitement. The long drive from Paris had been exhausting, but nothing could beat the warmth of being back home. She stepped out of the car, her suitcase in tow, and took a deep breath of the salty sea breeze. It felt so good to be back.

Before she could even knock, the door swung open, and Charles, her second-oldest brother, greeted her with a wide grin.

“Yn! Finally!” he exclaimed, pulling her into a tight bear hug. “It’s been forever!”

Yn laughed, her arms wrapping around him. “It’s only been a few months, Charles. I was home during the holidays!”

Charles shook his head, dramatically rolling his eyes. “That was ages ago. You’re staying for the whole break, right?”

Before she could answer, Lorenzo and Arthur appeared in the doorway, both wearing matching expressions of excitement. Lorenzo, the eldest, immediately took her suitcase from her.

“Come inside, bébé. You must be tired,” Lorenzo said, kissing her temple.

Arthur, the youngest of her brothers but still older than her, was already pulling her inside. “How are you so tiny after living in Paris? Aren’t croissants supposed to fatten you up?”

Yn giggled, patting his arm. “It’s called stress and deadlines, Arthur. They burn calories faster than croissants can add them.”

Her mother, Pascale, emerged from the kitchen, wiping her hands on an apron. “Yn, ma chérie!” she exclaimed, her face lighting up. She enveloped Yn in a warm embrace, the scent of chocolate and vanilla clinging to her.

“Hi, Maman,” Yn whispered, her heart swelling with love.

“You’re so skinny! Do they not feed you in Paris? You must eat something immediately. I made your favorite chocolate cake,” Pascale said, stepping back to inspect her daughter with a critical but loving eye.

“I’m fine, Maman,” Yn assured her, laughing softly. “But cake sounds amazing.”

Charles smirked. “You’re not fine, not if Maman says you’re too skinny. Let’s fatten you up!”

The brothers ushered her into the living room, their chatter filling the house. Yn felt her shoulders relax, the weight of school and projects momentarily lifted.

---

Yn sank into the plush couch, sighing in contentment. Lorenzo placed a steaming cup of tea in her hands while Arthur plopped down beside her, stealing a sip from her cup before she could protest.

“Arthur!” she scolded, swatting his arm.

“Relax, you’re home now,” Arthur teased, wrapping an arm around her shoulders. “Tell us about Paris. How’s fashion school?”

Charles, sitting on the armrest of the couch, leaned in. “And don’t leave out any details. Are you designing for some fancy runway show yet?”

Yn smiled, her cheeks flushing. “Well… actually, I got invited to a show next month. It’s not my designs being showcased, but I’ll get to network with some big names.”

Her brothers stared at her in awe.

“Yn, that’s incredible!” Charles said, his face lighting up with pride.

“I knew it,” Arthur declared, puffing out his chest. “Our little sister is going to take over the fashion world.”

Lorenzo chuckled. “Of course, she is. She’s a Leclerc.”

Yn laughed, shaking her head. “It’s just an invite, guys. Nothing huge.”

“It’s huge to us,” Lorenzo said firmly, squeezing her hand.

Pascale entered the room, carrying a tray with a generous slice of chocolate cake and a bowl of fresh fruit. “Here you go, ma chérie. You must eat all of it. You’re too thin.”

Yn rolled her eyes fondly but dug into the cake, savoring the rich, familiar flavor. “Merci, Maman. This is exactly what I needed.”

---

Later, Yn retrieved her sketchpad from her suitcase and spread it across the dining table. Her brothers and mother gathered around, each vying for a closer look.

“This one’s my favorite,” she said, pointing to a sleek black evening gown with intricate lace detailing. “I worked on it for weeks. My professor loved it.”

“Wow,” Charles breathed. “This is stunning, Yn. You’re seriously talented.”

Arthur leaned in closer, squinting at the design. “Is this one for the fashion show?”

Yn shook her head. “No, it’s just for school. But I’m working on something new that might be runway-worthy.”

Pascale placed a hand on her daughter’s shoulder, her eyes misty with pride. “You’ve always had such a creative mind, ma petite. Even as a child, you’d make dresses for your dolls out of anything you could find.”

Lorenzo smiled. “And look at you now, turning that talent into a career.”

Yn blushed under their praise. “Stop, you’re making me emotional.”

“Good,” Charles teased, ruffling her hair. “It’s payback for all the times you made us cry with your sass.”

---

The next few days were a whirlwind of family bonding. Yn’s brothers insisted on taking her around Monaco, showing her how much had changed since her last visit.

“You’re driving,” Charles announced, tossing her the keys to his Ferrari.

Yn’s jaw dropped. “Are you serious? What if I scratch it?”

“Then I’ll yell at you,” Charles said, grinning. “But you won’t scratch it. You’re a Leclerc; driving is in your blood.”

Her hands trembled as she slid into the driver’s seat, but her brothers’ cheers and encouragement made her feel unstoppable.

After a scenic drive along the coast, they returned home to find Pascale preparing a grand family dinner. The evening was filled with laughter, teasing, and stories of Yn’s life in Paris.

“You should come to one of my races,” Charles said, his tone serious. “I’d love to have you there.”

“I will,” Yn promised. “As long as you come to one of my fashion shows someday.”

“Deal,” Charles said, clinking his glass against hers.

---

That night, Yn sat on the balcony with Arthur. The two of them had always shared a special bond, and Arthur often confided in her about his racing career.

“You’re really doing it, Yn,” he said softly, staring out at the glittering lights of Monaco. “Chasing your dream.”

“So are you,” Yn pointed out. “We all are, in our own way.”

Arthur nodded, a thoughtful look on his face. “Yeah, but sometimes it’s scary. The pressure, the expectations… I feel like I can’t mess up.”

Yn placed a hand on his arm. “You’re incredible, Arthur. Don’t let the pressure steal the joy of doing what you love.”

Arthur smiled at her, his eyes filled with gratitude. “Thanks, Yn. You always know what to say.”

---

The following days flew by, filled with laughter, food, and endless conversations. Yn cherished every moment, knowing she’d soon return to the hustle of Paris. Her brothers treated her like royalty, refusing to let her lift a finger.

“You’re our baby sister,” Lorenzo said when she tried to help clear the table. “Let us spoil you.”

“And we’re not taking no for an answer,” Charles added, steering her back to the couch.

Yn couldn’t stop smiling. As much as she loved Paris and her budding career, nothing compared to being home with her family.

“I love you guys,” she said one evening, her voice soft but sincere.

“We love you too, Yn,” Charles replied, pulling her into a group hug with Lorenzo and Arthur.

Pascale watched them from the doorway, her heart full. “My beautiful family,” she murmured, wiping a tear from her cheek.

---

As Yn packed her bags to return to Paris, her brothers hovered around her, trying to convince her to stay longer.

“Just one more day,” Arthur pleaded.

“Or a week,” Charles suggested.

Yn laughed, shaking her head. “I’ll be back soon, I promise. And you’re all welcome to visit me in Paris.”

Lorenzo hugged her tightly. “We’ll miss you, bébé.”

“I’ll miss you too,” Yn said, her voice breaking slightly.

As she drove away, waving at her family through the rearview mirror, Yn felt a bittersweet ache in her chest. She was leaving her safe haven, but she knew she carried their love with her wherever she went.

And that was enough to keep her going.

[itaipava]

— f1 boys and their moments of quiet admiration for you.

˒ ⌕ LANDO NORRIS

observing you laughter from afar: he always thought your laugh was the most beautiful thing in the world, but at that moment he knew for sure. you were so free and happy with your friends that you didn’t even notice him looking at you with a huge smile on his face; the way your face lights up while you’re laughing wholeheartedly without a care in the world... his eyes shine with a feeling of warmth and joy just seeing you happy; all he wants is to make you the happiest person in the world so that that beautiful smile never leaves your face.

˒ ⌕ GEORSE RUSSELL

watching you sleep peacefully: amidst so many things in his life, he cherishes every peaceful moment by your side. so when he wakes up in the morning and sees you sleeping so peacefully next to him, it makes his heart melt a little in his chest. he lies on his side and admires every beautiful detail of you for a few minutes; how your breathing is so calm, your hair on your face, your eyes closed and your mouth so, so perfect. he gently brushes a few strands of your hair from your face and caresses your cheek, just enjoying this simple moment with you while feeling a deep, peaceful connection.

˒ ⌕ SEBASTIAN VETTEL

the way you speak about what you love: he loves listening to everything you say, but he loves it even more when you talk about your passions and dreams; seeing the fire in your eyes and the way you smile with excitement and love makes his heart race in his chest and a huge smile appears on his lips. he doesn’t say it, but in those moments he feels a sense of gratitude and joy for being able to see this side of you that he admires so much.

˒ ⌕ CARLOS SAINZ

silently watching you work on something important: whether it’s a creative project for work, cooking, or even a small task, he loves to admire you from afar. he loves your expressions and how beautiful you are without even knowing it. your dedication and skills in your movements; he likes to make mental notes of your mannerisms and little things you do that make you so unique. it’s in these moments that he gets completely lost in you and could look at you for hours.

˒ ⌕ CHARLES LECLERC

noticing how you carry yourself in public: seeing you interact with others with confidence, humor, and kindness makes his heart race in his chest, in those moments, he finds you more beautiful than ever; how much you stand out from others just by being you. he feels a swell of pride and love in knowing that you are his, and how incredibly beautiful you are.

˒ ⌕ LEWIS HAMILTON

taking in your appearance when you’re not looking: he simply loves looking at you and noticing your little details; how your hair falls, how your hand rests gently on the table, how you concentrate while putting on makeup or skincare. quietly appreciating how naturally beautiful you are in every situation and he never gets tired of it; of looking at you and thinking you’re the most beautiful person in the world.

˒ ⌕ OSCAR PIASTRI

feeling grateful when you show kindness to other: he silently watches you being kind or helpful to someone else and in those moments he realizes how much he admires you as a person, and how beautiful your heart is. he learns a lot from you and values ​​that immensely; to him, you couldn’t be more perfect.

˒ ⌕ LIAM LAWSON

admiring you lost in thought: he can’t help but stare at you while you’re working. the way your expression changes with every thought or idea, how quickly you type on the computer, how you roll your eyes and sigh when something goes wrong... he smiles from afar, admiring how beautiful you look in these simple moments. he could spend all day like this, observing how gorgeous you are and how thoughtful and passionate you are about what you do.

˒ ⌕ MAX VERSTAPPEN

holding your hand and just looking at you: sitting together in comfortable silence while he’s holding your hand and watching you without words, letting his gaze express all the affection he feels. he doesn’t hide the fact that he’s admiring you, but he also don’t stop when you get embarrassed and ask him what he’s looking at. he just likes to look at you, admire you and memorize every single detail of you.

[noyasmashing]

hii how are you doing? i was wondering if you could do bimbo!ushijima x smaller reader? i don’t have any specific kinks for this one you can choose ;)

I just want to PEG this man.

Wakatoshi appears to be the type who takes pride in being a top, and everyone believes him due to obvious reasons, especially his size compared to yours, which made it seem so plausible. However, when you two are alone, he transforms into your subby little baby who is unsure of what to do with his fat cock :((

Any time Wakatoshi attempts to top you, he’s crying. Despite you pointing out the significant size difference between the two of you, he just can’t do it. Suddenly, the expert control he usually possesses over his body evaporates, and he desperately pleads for you to regain control.

Oh, and let's not forget about his thighs. This man has dedicated his entire life to training them, resulting in their impressive size and muscularity. But when you eight inches deep inside him, his thighs tremble like a leaf. He tries his hardest to maintain composure and suppress his moans, but he fails miserably. The stoic face that graces Japan's magazines is now stained with tears. Wakatoshi is secretly a vulnerable, quivering crybaby when you fuck him.

His body is incredibly sensitive overall, especially his thighs. Just the slightest touch can make them shake uncontrollably. Imagine teasing him, not as a form of punishment, but solely because you want to witness his beefy thighs quivering under your touch as you leave hickeys on them.

However, his abs may be the most sensitive part of his body. He reflexively trembles and flinches when your hand grazes across them. Picture the expression on his face when you press your hand down on his stomach while thrusting into him. It's an overwhelming amount of stimulation all at once! But it could easily be the catalyst that pushes him over the edge...

He also craves to be babied, seeking comfort after a strenuous day of training. All he wants is a soothing, leisurely bath followed by the warmth of your embrace while he sits in your lap. It's endearing how he revels in being treated as the smaller one, his adorable pleas for your affection echoing softly, "Mommy, please understand, I know I'm heavy, but I truly need this, please, please, please." How can you resist granting his request when he asks so nicely? He's such a good slut for you. Make sure to shower him with attention and pamper him, before he cums in his pants from the attention <33

[ldrfanatic]

Italian Theodore Nott Headcanons

So... by popular request (I think like literally one person commented on a post from ages ago) and also because I'm still working on my most recent part to the '13' Series (linked here) here's some Italian Theo headcanons to keep you sated.

sorry if this is inaccurate it's based off of my own knowledge of italians and what I think Theo would be like

slytherin boys masterlist works

So, unlike most, I don't think that Italian Theo would be a whore. Let me explain:

Sure Italian men like to flirt, (although Theo doesn't), but they do it because it comes so natural to them and because more than anything, they value their partner.

They're well dressed and take pride in their appearance (something Theo does do) but they don't always entertain the people of the heads that they turn

They also have a natural air of confidence that Theo has and doesn't even have to use

However, just because Theo isn't a whore doesn't mean that he doesn't have his own little clique of fangirls.

In general:

As a person, Theo is incredibly quiet. His English is not the best as he grew up in the Italian countryside and spends his breaks there. He spends most of his time observing, and the rest of his time, mentally translating sentences from English to Italian and vice versa (and yes that's exhausting).

He does however take food incredibly seriously (as most Italians do I feel). His favorite kind of pasta is Paccheri and he will die on the hill that the Italians were the first to make Pizza (who else could make bread, sauce, and cheese taste so good?). He was also incredibly shocked when he found out the drinking age in England was 18. Theo had a glass of wine with dinner every night since the age of ten.

Another thing he doesn't quite understand about England is the frequency through which they drink tea throughout the day. At most, he has a cup a day while some of his English friends have four to five cups a day and usually, one cup with every meal.

Theo also had a very strong connection to his mother. Now that she's gone, he spends a lot of time in his head with his memories of her. It's not all that shocking to anyone really that he doesn't quite have the time or the patience for girls.

Platonically:

As a friend, Theo is a little more open but not much. His two closest friends in the group are you and Lorenzo who's also Italian. He'll talk to either of you and open up a little, but only if no one else is around. He's a bit impartial to Mattheo although he does think the boy is a loose cannon and he actually secretly despises Draco and his blood purity nonsense as it reminds him too much of his father (whom he also hates). So yeah, he spends the majority of his time with Lorenzo and Blaise.

In regards to your friendship with Theo, he's a complete gentleman. He never sits too close in fear of startling or offending you. He opens all of the doors the pair of you walk through and carries your books to class when you have the same class.

In fact, despite being significantly more well mannered than any other boy in your year, the only thing that hinted to you that Theo felt anything towards you other than indifference were small smiles and shared secrets.

Romantically:

Before you even became friends you'd caught Theo's eye. The first time he'd noticed you, you were comforting a crying first year muggle-born that Draco had bullied to tears. You spoke so kindly and softly to the boy. Theo knew then that you weren't like everyone else in Hogwarts. Most people were too afraid to stand up to Draco but the next day, you punched him square in the jaw and told him to stop being such a prick.

The first person to find out about Theo's crush on you was Lorenzo of course. He didn't tease him for which Theo was grateful. Now as stated, Theo is an incredibly quiet person so it's not clear to you that Theo has crush on you.

Also, once Theo has decided that he likes you, other girls don't even approach him anymore. Not after the Ravenclaw incident. A Ravenclaw from your guys' year approached him and asked him out. He didn't even acknowledge her. Just stood up and left.

He does however, make an attempt to spend more time with you whenever her can. He sits with you at meals and during lessons, he asks you for help in charms (even though he's already receiving high marks, but you don't know that). He brings you soup when your sick.

The way that you find out Theo has a crush on you is actually really surprising for you.

Lorenzo came running up to you after Potions one day, completely out of breath. "Y/n! Come quick." He didn't give you any room to disagree as he grasped your wrist firmly and began dragging you down the corridor towards the courtyard. When you got out there, your stomach dropped.

For the first time since meeting him, you saw Theo fight. He had Addrian Pucey on the ground and was currently pummeling the poor boy. The scariest part was that he remained completely calm, cold. Mattheo and Draco were standing on the sidelines egging him on while Theo ruthlessly delivered blow after blow in dead silence. He didn't even wince as his knuckles began to split open and bleed.

Blaise was desperately trying to pull Theo away but he wouldn't budge. Finally, you snapped out of your stupor and approached the boy. As he was throwing punches with his right arm, you approached him from the left and placed a hand on his left shoulder apprehensively. "Theo."

At the sound of your voice, Theo stopped immediately. He didn't look at you immediately. Instead, he stood and kicked Adrian who was on the ground rolling in pain. "Stay away from her." The crowd dispersed as the fight ended. When Theo turned to look at you, his eyes were blazing. For the first time since you'd known him, Theo was burning with rage.

"Theo come on." He let you lead him away in complete silence. Worse than what Adrian had said to you, Theo was ashamed. He couldn't believe that he'd let his emotions take over like that. Now he may have lost you for good. When you finally stopped in a secluded corridor, Theo turned away from you.

"Theo?" He was silent and your concern grew. It wasn't Theo's usual kind of silence, it was a silence that made your heart feel heavy. "Theodore."

"Don't."

"What?"

Finally Theo turns to you and his eyes are glossy. It was startling almost, to see the normally calm and collected boy tearing up. "Don't do that tesoro. Yell, push me, hit me if you need to, but I'm not Theodore. Not to you."

"What happened?" He sighed.

"I overheard Adrian say something completely vile about... you. I couldn't let him talk about you like that. I'm so sorry. Please forgive me cuore. You are the only light in my dark life."

You reached out and grabbed Theo's hands in your own. "That's incredibly sweet of you Theo. But why would you do that for me?"

"Isn't it obvious! I am entirely and irreversibly in love with you. I cannot live without you and I will not allow anyone to say such things about you."

After that, Theo took you out on a date. Thanks to his Pureblood lineage, Theo's family was quite wealthy. And his father had always taken to making sure he was well cared for financially, perhaps out of guilt from his emotional abuse.

For your first date, Theo took you to a London shopping district with his Black Card. At first you refused to spend any of his money. That is until Theo became resigned to buy you everything that your eyes lingered on for more than five seconds despite all your protests.

To end the date, he treated you to a nice dinner and then brought the pair of you back to Hogwarts.

As your boyfriend:

As your boyfriend, Theo's go-to nickname for you is either tesoro (treasure). He spends a lot of time staring at you which Mattheo teases him endlessly for of course.

He wishes you could meet his mother, but he adamantly refuses for you to meet his father. Instead, he introduces you to his grandmother. She teaches you how to make pasta from scratch and you and Theo often sneak into the kitchens at Hogwarts to try and make it there.

He makes it pretty clear that you're the only girl for him. He even tells you one night how his mother's dying wish was for him to find someone that he loved wholeheartedly and who loved him as much. Theo knows that this person is you, and he has no shyness in telling you.

He hates to see you cry, but if for any reason you're feeling sad, he recites Italian poetry to you in a soft and devoted tone.

Questo nostro amore, vita mia

lo prospetti felice

destinato a durare per sempre.

Dei del cielo, fate voi che lei dica il vero,

che lo prometta sincera e dal cuore,

che si possa per tutta la vita

mantener questo patto inviolabile

(This love of ours my life; I predict will be happy; destined to last forever.; Gods of the sky, do what you deem to be true; that promises to be sincere and from the heart,; which can be for a lifetime,; keep this inviolable covenant.)

When Theo speaks his native tongue it makes you a little weak in the knees. The way that his lips curve around the words and his tongue effortlessly forms each syllable makes your heart swell.

Overall:

Italian Theo is a complete cutie with impeccable manners and expresses more romance in ten minutes with you than most men express in their entire lives. He sees you as a light that brightens his life that he will do anything to protect.

----

help this is so bad

[vifilms]

≛ LONELY IS THE MUSE!

❝ ABBY!CENTRIC ONE SHOT ❞

feat. bodyguard!abby x famous actor!reader

warnings. eighteen+, suggestive nsfw content: reader fell first nd and abby fell harder, some angst, fluff, slightly coded fem reader, personal trainer!abby, just two idiots pining. i saw the discourse for some romance and i wanted to do my part. enjoy friends.

LONELY IS THE MUSE, entangled in an endless web of a high profile life, everyone waiting on you hand and foot, hollywood’s star in their prime — everyone needing a piece for themselves. yet the mysterious blonde who has not a clue to who you are catches the eye of the lonely muse.

wc. 8k

“You know you don’t have to stand this close to me.” Abby counters, but her words didn’t make you move an inch. Not that she really thought they would. Secretly, she enjoys your gentle touch. She likes how comfortable you feel around her. The downpour in New York has your arm entangled with her own, your hand gripping her bicep as she holds the umbrella.

“Maybe, but I don’t want to ruin my hair.” You replied gently, as you rested your head against her relaxed bicep.

“God, forbid your hair be in ruin, sweet girl.” Abby’s wet lips look inviting, especially when she’s smirking at you. Delectable, enticing, desired seeping underneath your soul as you try your best to keep them at bay. 

“Now that would be positively tragic, wouldn’t it? Just a paparazzi’s wet dream. Need my hair in ruins for them to get a handsome payday.” Abby shakes her head, the budding smile threatening to reveal itself. You can see how it grows, despite the effort she makes to disguise it. 

“I think you do enjoy my company. Paid or not, I bring some light into your life.” You play with the ends of her hair. The blonde feels a tingle pricking at her skin. She ignores it. 

“I can see that smile.” 

Better than anyone, Abby knows the gleam in your eyes is too dangerous to entertain, so she looks forward. It’s what she's paid to do, to keep you safe. Not to entertain some weird crush that will soon pass when you move on to the next actress, artist, or producer. She doesn’t need a reminder of how different your world is, she’s already abundantly clear on where the both of you stand. Worlds apart from each other, even if you’re leaning against her, the greedy hands of the public grab onto you first, mercilessly sucking the life out of anyone who enters your life. 

All it does is isolate you, making your life incredibly lonely. Trapped on the throne you built with your raw talent, but the industry is a double edged sword, as much as it appears to lift you up, it impales any sense of normalcy at a private, peaceful life. You take pride in these little moments you have with her. It’s the only time you get to have a taste of normalcy, even if you did have a bodyguard, which wasn’t entirely normal. Yet, Abby is a gentle reminder of a life she wishes to have. Someone who is kind, and loving; a soul that exists for no selfish gain, greed, or selfishness. 

Sometimes, you take advantage of it. 

Abby knows you crave physical affection. Ever since your messy break up, you’ve been finding any little excuse to justify it. Abby didn’t really mind at all. Even if she tried to deny it in her head, she’d miss it if you stopped. The incessant need you have to be close to her at all times, your essence bleeding on to her, suffocating her with everything she wants, but knows she can’t ever let herself dip into the deepest edges of you. 

Especially, not when you are still attempting to decode the wreckage of your last relationship. 

Abby hates seeing you like this, but she knew there was little she could do to help. All she could do is let you ride the wave of heartbreak, take in the silent tears hitting full cheeks, and hope it would all end soon for you. For now, she would allow immediate proximity.

You’re hurting. You need it.  

The first few weeks, even a couple months after, she expects it. Now it’s month four, and you were still touching her all the time. Lame excuses falling from your lips daily and Abby was sure you didn’t even believe them. She thought about bringing it up to you, establishing healthy boundaries before she crosses a line.

Yet, it feels…nice.

It felt good to be needed. The reason she had taken this job in the first place. It wasn’t what she had imagined for herself – a bodyguard of a famous musician. She jokes about it now, but it's a twisted fate for the two of you. Your eyes shine bright whenever someone asks, and you always take the lead.

Abby has always been more reserved, and your personality is as bright as the sun. She liked Abby the second she laid eyes on her. Not because she was beautiful or the most gorgeous human she’d ever seen.

Which she is.

No.

Her stupid pounding heart, the one she felt beating violently out of her chest, loves you, has no idea who she is.  She had thought possibly the blonde stranger was putting on a front, some did. They liked to conceal their intentions behind greedy eyes and malicious intent.

But Abby turned out to be different.

When a blossoming friendship turned into a job opportunity, it took Abby through a loop. It was the very last thing she was expecting from you. You’d kept her in the dark and when you announced exactly who you were, Abby really didn’t know. Never was she really a fan of social media, didn’t really partake in it unless someone was showing her the latest trend going around. She’s a little old fashioned but she likes it. It worked in her favor when it came to you. Unknowingly, for the first time since your fame struck as quick as lightning, you had the pleasure to befriend someone who had no idea who you were. 

As fresh as breathing your first breath of air, you took pride in the circumstance. Someone enjoying your company for who they are and not just for your social standing, fame, or most importantly the money. Before either of you could really even fully come to it, Abby has become such an influential person in your life, and then you were attempting to entice her with a job opportunity, and she accepted. 

You thought it would take longer and knew from the moment you had asked. But her life was uprooted by you, and she felt guilty about how much it fills her up with glee. 

In the last year, Abby became the only person worthy of your trust, the only one who would keep your confessions confined, not letting the secrets drip like cheap wine down the drain. Rather more as if she was out in the vineyard, carefully hand picking the grapes for the wine as she crafts it herself. Giving it the love, care, and attention it needs to flourish into fine beverage. From one sip alone, knowing she would crave for the taste. 

Getting to know you in ways some would dream of. Often, the mass of the public did, but you’re more selective who you let in your life now. Swiftly, you noticed how easily Abby listened. 

Listening and seeing you for who you are, not some strewed version the media made you out to be.  

She understood why you felt the need to and maybe why you felt comfortable with her. You spent time with her more than anyone. After two years together, she had learned every little detail about you. Where you liked to get your morning coffee, your favorite brunch spot, which bar you like to frequent when you had a night to give, which gym was your favorite, and to not speak with you until you’ve had said coffee. 

It’s these little things Abby remembers, constantly getting her in trouble.

When paparazzi are around, you always accept her hand as she guides you through the swarming crowd. Abby knows you despise it. How inhumane it makes you feel. You feel like an attraction, an object the masses had come to see rather than being viewed as an actual person. In these moments, you cling onto Abby the most. While she’s intimidating to all, there leaves a small exception for you, never has she once been anything to you more than just a sweet, gentle giant she wants close to her at all times. 

Her stature is standing a little over six feet tall. Her arms always looked too good against the tight fabric of her shirt. The one you grip onto as she is navigating through a crowd with you in tow, she’s always focused. The remainder of your team was behind you, while she was always in front of you.

At all times, protecting you.

But it was moments like today, you were grateful for. You blended with the hectic life of the city. You were just two people waiting at a crosswalk, waiting to get to your next destination.

Abby tries not to pay too much attention to how you’re squeezing her bicep, with a strong grip further indication you weren’t letting go anytime soon.

She supposes it’s better than feeling your hand in hers. There were times when Abby deemed it necessary. She would grab it whenever she needed to get you through from point a to point b, quickly. It made you follow her pace instead of lingering behind. She didn’t even know how she was supposed to feel with your head resting against her arm, your body so close to hers.

How was she supposed to act normally?

The rumors were already getting bad. You denied them when asked, and you did gracefully each time.

All Abby could think about if this moment was captured, it would be perceived as intimate. It felt like it was, but she didn’t want the entire world to see. Not when she felt the two of you walking this very nimble line of friends, something professional, and something more. She didn’t need thousands of eyes giving their two senses in a situation she didn’t even fully understand yet. All it took was one person to snap a photo if she gets too close to you. If her touch stayed on you for too long, or if she let the love reach her eyes. The ladder was the most difficult to control. It’s a part of her just as much as the air in her lungs.

This life is new to her. At times, Abby wondered if she’s biting off more than she could chew.

The only reason she’d left was for you. She had a small, quiet life. Abby’s life was very average, a cloud of normalcy hovered above her before the two of you met. A personal trainer full time and she resided in a cabin about half an hour from where she worked. She chopped wood to relieve stress, Her girlfriend liked it at the time, and she did too. She had her two dogs, and a darling kitten. 

She enjoyed the privacy. The isolated countryside her sweet family could reside in. Abby had built this life she was proud of, and it made her happy. For a time, it worked. She was genuinely content with where she was. There wasn’t a need to stress or control where her life was going. It felt like a huge relief. She tended to live inside her own head, not be present in what she has right in front her.

It had been months since she felt like that. It’d felt good and she was proud of herself for not succumbing from within and really coming to terms with what she had built around her. This was the most difficult route for her to take. To allow herself to be open, even if there was a chance of her falling.

Abby really should have felt remorseful for leaving it all behind.

Nora was sweet. The most caring partner she ever had, but there wasn’t much she could compare it to. Besides her, there had only been two, and she didn’t even count Owen. A long misstep until she landed where she needed to be. He did care for her, and he seemed to be more kind-hearted than most men, but the bar was set so low, he should’ve exceeded expectations.

And he did, in some areas.

Others, he fell more than flat but there was little to nothing he could do about it. Abby likes girls and he wasn’t one. Her sexuality shattered their relationship into a million pieces – leaving neither of them any option but to move on.

Nora felt real. This genuine connection she’d never experienced before. Abby knew it one year into their relationship. The pair had built this life together, one where she didn’t feel trapped in, and one Abby could be proud of. She felt acknowledged and loved Nora. There wasn’t a sliver of a doubt in her mind this where she needed to be.

She tells Nora when she needs space, and she isn’t ashamed of it. If she didn’t want to go out, Nora wouldn’t guilt trip her into it. Abby didn’t feel pressured to intertwine her identity with Nora just because they were together. Nora hardly ever gave Abby a reason to be upset. She showed up like partners were supposed to, even when Abby didn’t.

But it was a heavy weight to carry for Nora. Being her first serious queer relationship, Abby was left stunted in areas where Nora had to lend a helping hand. She never made Abby feel bad about it, but the two of them could feel the string keeping them threatening to snap.

Often, it frustrated Abby. To always be the one receiving help and never giving it. She didn't blame her partner, but she was left at a crossroad. 

She never understood Owen more and it really pissed her off.

To no fucking end.

But Nora was far more patient than Abby had ever shown. Maybe it was the testament to love or maybe Nora was just a good person and Abby is shitty. She had more patience than Mother Thersea herself, and it amazed her. Always guiding Abby with a gentle hand, never getting upset with her even when she let her anger shine through.

It makes her feel undeserving of a love she could never earn.

This pure and untainted love had never touched her before, and she’d never fallen this hard. Abby didn’t want to be anywhere but here. She really thought this could be it. Nora could be the one. They could get through those hardships together, right? 

Then you came and overwhelmed her like a tsunami.

She was running late, which was completely out of the ordinary for Abby. Instead of her neat braid, her sun kissed-blonde hair was in a low bun. Underneath her eyes was evidence of her lack of sleep. She hadn’t been getting any as of lately and the bags only seemed to get deeper.

Abby wouldn’t call the fights constant, but it sure did feel like it.

The back and forth, having the same fight consistently. Abby was more than frustrated. The biggest efforts she made were dismissed by Nora, even making her upset at times. She was trying too hard and being annoying, or not doing enough and then it meant she wasn’t present in the relationship.

Abby felt her stuck at a wall, Nora on the other side of it and she couldn’t hear a damn thing.

So, she was running late.

One of the many fights  they’ve had with each other as of late. Nora is tired of dealing with a “baby gay” as she likes to remind her in the heat of their arguments. Abby gets offended, her lips forming into an even deeper pout, her porcelain skin flushed in anger before she gives them both space. 

Contemplating about the future of their relationship in the shower, causing her to be late to work in the process. 

Astronomically behind – her client arrived at the gym she worked at half an hour ago. The most recent argument with Nora plagued her morning. All they seem to do is argue, trapped in what they both need from the relationship, but all the two of them could do is argue, argue, argue.

But neither of them makes a move. They are still as the eerie silence that carries them into questioning. 

It’s when she’s too inside her head, fearing about the future, when she violently bumps into you. Body colliding with yours, Abby’s stone-like build causes you to crash into the pavement, your belongings scatter along with Abby’s. 

“Fuck. Are you alright? Sorry, I’m in such a hurry, I’m sure I wasn’t even paying attention.” You let her pick you from the ground, she does with ease. She looks right through you and you expect the excitement, the excited tears, or to be asked for a picture but it never comes.   

“For a moment I thought I ran into a wall—” You giggle to yourself. “Really, I’m alright.” You spoke softly. You pick up both of your belongings that had slipped from both of your grips, returning it to its owner. 

“Are you sure you’re okay? I didn’t hurt you, did I?” Abby asks again. 

You think it’s cute how much lace of concern is conveyed in her cerulean eyes, full of light and wonder, so beautiful it stops you in your tracks. 

“No no! I’m fine! Really don’t worry about it.” 

Honestly, you’re still in amazement she has no idea who you are. It makes your fondness of her grow even more. The two of you depart quickly, go about your day, and you think nothing of it until you go to unlock your phone to message your manager and it’s not a picture of the moon you’d taken during the eclipse, it’s the mysteriously hot and kind woman you’d run into before. 

Shit. She has my phone. 

Lucky for you, Abby was coming to the same realization. Ready to bring out the workout she had planned out for her first client, opening her phone to access where she had written everything out only to find this isn’t her phone. Well, fuck. 

Abby hollers at Dina to take over the client for a moment, excusing herself for a moment before retreating into the office to call from her direct line. 

Idiot Anderson. Now you get to make an idiot of yourself, twice. 

Way to go. 

She calls her phone and it rings a few times before the familiar voice chimes through the speaker, the one she heard this morning during her fit of anxiety. 

“Please tell me this is the woman I ran into earlier or else I’m going to be even more embarrassed for answering a stranger's phone.” 

“Well you’re in luck.” 

“Oh thank fuck—” You curse yourself before being so vulgar with someone who you didn’t even know. “Sorry! God, this is all my fault. I must have swapped our phones when I picked them up and didn’t even realize.” 

“It’s okay, really, if I was paying attention where I was walking this morning it never would have happened. Did you wanna meet?” 

“No! Let me. Please, this is all my fault. I should at least be the one who makes the drive.” 

“Are you sure? It’s really no trouble. I don’t mind.” 

“I’m really sure.” 

Abby offers the address of work, thinking once after she does if it’s a good idea, a total stranger knowing where she works but she’s already giving the street name and suite number before she can even make her mind. Abby usually doesn’t get nervous but this situation has sent her into a frenzy, thinking about how dumb she could have been. Nora will get a good laugh out of it she thinks, then she is reminded of the fight the two of them were still in. She wonders if she’s even tried to reach out to her yet or if Nora’s just waiting until Abby’s anger rolls over. 

More favorably, the ladder. 

Until the two of them have the comfort of their lives, the cushion they have between their shared friends and the home they share twenty minutes out of the state, until it comes up again and they’ll be contemplating it all over again. Anxiously, the front desk girl, Bevs, the younger girl who has a crush on her, shyly comes up to her. 

Bevs says what she assumes is your name, confusing Abby in the process. 

“You know her?” 

“How could you not? She’s one of the most famous actresses ever.” Abby is stunned to say the least. Truthfully, she had no idea. Her lack of social media keeps her out of the loop and as much as her friends tease her about, if Abby knew who you were the first time around, she’s sure she wouldn’t have been able to say more than two words. Clearly, you’re a fresh face to her. Already, Abby knows Manny is going to have a field day when Bevs lets this information spill in her sheer excitement. 

Great, she thinks. 

“Oh.” 

“I put her in your office. Some of the clients were already starting to have questioning looks, putting the pieces together. Hey! Maybe they're as clueless as you.” 

“Bevs, go back to the front desk.” With a curt nod and realizing she has pushed too far, with a tail between her legs she retreats back to her post. 

Okay, Anderson, let’s get this over with. 

Abby smells you the minute she steps foot in her office. It’s not the usual pinewood scent the candle in her office radiates. There’s a lingering smell of lavender with just a hit of vanilla. It’s sweet as it engulfs her nostrils, she finds herself sniffling slightly, a silent beg for more of it. You’re standing the minute you’re aware of her presence. Painfully, Abby is aware of her lack of clothing. The tight sport jacket is left unopened, her black sweatpants, accompanied with her sports bra, abs on display as she watches your eyes examine her carefully. 

She’s not sure how to feel about it. 

There is a moment, a short one where your eyes go to her chest, the silver barbells constricting against the small fabric, clear as to what lies beneath. 

Abby does smirk at that. She’s only human. 

You keep staring at her for a minute longer, well it feels like one but Abby deems it couldn’t have been more than a few seconds. “Sorry to keep you waiting.” 

“It’s really not a problem.” The more time goes on, the sweeter you are. “It’s pretty close to where I live.” 

Abby didn’t know it then but you were lying straight through your teeth. The trainer didn’t know you moved around your entire day to make the phone swap or the butterflies swarming your stomach from just how attractive and nice she seemed to be. There was something about her that sent your caution flying to the wind, drifting in the leaves with the rest of your pride. 

“Well I appreciate you coming out this way, even if it’s in your area. I really wouldn’t have minded taking the drive.” Abby pulls out your phone as she hands you yours. It’s simple, transactional, and it should have just been left at that but you had a fondness of putting your foot in your mouth. 

“Are you a trainer here?” 

“Uh, yeah. Been doing it for a few years actually. I spent so much time here already, now I get paid for it. Can’t really complain.” 

“Do you ever do private sessions?” 

“Um-” Abby scratches the back of her awkwardly, not sure if you’re asking her genuinely or if you’re trying to insinuate something else entirely. 

“Oh fuck no! I didn’t mean it like that. I just have a….job opportunity I have to get in shape for and you just look like you know what you’re doing.” Abby thought you might as well point to her physique but if anything she was flattered. It was always nice knowing something she’s been working on for years, her longest standing commitment besides Nora, is appreciated. 

“Sure, we could work something out.” You slightly smile before you exchange phones, this time on purpose, to put in the other’s number. Normally, she didn’t give out her number to clients, but Abby makes an exception for you that day. To this day, she’ll never outwardly admit why she did, not even to herself. 

- 

Two years later, she’s single from her life being turned upside down by you. The casualty being her own relationship, leaving Nora behind was one of the hardest decisions she’s made. Nora never agreed on Abby taking the job. As much as Nora wished for Abby to be more open about their endeavors, as soon as she accepted an offer that could drastically expand the trajectory of their life, Nora couldn’t be asked to compromise another thing. 

That was that. Not even two months into Abby working for you and Nora had called it quits. Abby never talked about it, only you knew she had a girlfriend she used to talk about when you began training with her, and then it was just silent. Back then, you didn’t know her well enough to pry, so you didn’t. 

Even as time passed, the two of you became friends through your employment, spending all your time with her during press season for your upcoming film, Lonely Is The Muse, together. Today was the only day you had off, even if it means Abby technically had the day off, you insisted that both of you leave the hotel and go out for the day. It's the most peace you felt during the European leg of the tour. Only one more day of dealing with your sensory issues, people in your face telling you when and where to go, or the distasteful question regarding your past public breakup instead of the work you were promoting. 

Some interviewers were kind enough to let the drama go but some wanted to get their own viral moment, waiting for you to say the wrong thing. As the industry likes to say, any publicity is good publicity. 

When you’re America's sweetheart actress of the century, such luxuries can’t be afforded. 

As your manager likes to remind you, there’s a reputation you have to protect. 

“Would you like to head back now? Long day tomorrow. Last day of interviews and then your flight leaves first thing in the morning.” 

“Did Stassie put you up to this?” 

“Maybe.” 

“I thought you were supposed to be the fun one.” 

“Mhm, your definition of fun is letting you do whatever you want.” 

“And the problem with that is?” 

All Abby can do is chuckle. 

“What do you want to do then?” Abby asks. She takes note of the sparkle in your eyes, as blinding as the sun but obtaining the serenity of the moon. “I’m all ears sweetheart.” 

It’s how the two of you end up here, a rooftop party, a friend of a friend you said. The party was lowkey, more than the typical ones you would get invited. Maybe because you weren’t in Los Angeles, Miami, or New York — but tucked away on another continent — or perhaps everyone here is just discreet. 

There’s only two fans that come up to you instead of twenty. You’re thankful for some sense of normalcy, one night where you can just feel normal. It still never gets old, people coming up to you as they confess the impact you’ve had on their life. It feels unbelievable at times but you’re grateful for the luxury life you’ve been granted. 

“Here. No liquor tonight.” Abby hands you a glass of red wine, your favorite beverage of choice when you couldn’t have tequila. 

“Yes Ma’am.” You playfully salute her. More than anything, you enjoy the not so subtle chuckle. “Not that I don’t love your company but isn’t Stassie supposed to boss me around?” 

“She felt under the weather. Plus, we both know you don’t listen to her.” 

“And I listen to you?” Your hand plays with her loose blonde hair, smoothing out the white button she’s wearing. 

“Yeah, you do. I wonder why that is.” Abby is playing with fire tonight. Possibly due to the fact that you wouldn’t leave her side, not even for a moment, keeping your body close, practically gluing yourself to her. Yes, she’s charged with keeping you safe and protected but it seems you find enjoyment bringing it to another level entirely. 

“You’re much nicer to look at, that’s all.” It’s light, a quiet whisper, not meant to be heard by anyone — not even for Abby to hear. “Don’t wanna make my handsome bodyguard upset.” 

Faking your pout as you let the words leave your lips, Abby chuckles as you get closer to her, her body standing strong as you push your weight onto her. Stoic as always, while you lean on her, she keeps her eyes peeled. Ensuring your safety at all times. 

“Flattery isn’t going to get you a shot tonight.” 

“I’m just stating the obvious.” 

Abby chuckles, again. She’s delighted you’re enjoying yourself, even if it comes at her expense. There’s a soft jazz song playing outside, couples dancing to the music, you zone out for a moment as you look upon one in particular. 

They are older, possibly in their forties, raven hair beginning to gray, fine lines crinkle when they smile at each other but it’s hard to take note of anything else but the way the couple looks at each other. Your mind wonders how long they’ve been together, if it’s been for years, months, a couple weeks. 

It doesn’t really matter. You just want that. 

The feeling isn’t lost on you, especially when you’re in the arms of the woman you love. For her, she’s being protective, doing her job but you wish it was different. A bubbling desire dripping off your tongue, a need to have her close to you but because she wants. Not because she’s paid to. 

“If I can’t have any tequila shots, god forbid, you have to dance with me.” You down the rest of your wine, placing the empty glass on the bar. “C’mon, you can give Stassie an earful later.” 

Pulling her towards the makeshift dance floor, Abby leads as your head rests against her chest. The steady, soft heartbeat soothes you, a reminder of the safety you feel with her. Caught in the riptide of her kind eyes and heart full of gold. It’s what makes her so unique, so loved, so her. With a surprisingly good tone, Abby sings to the music softly before twirling you around and spinning your body back to her. 

“Is there anything you can’t do?” Your hand rubs lovingly on her lower back as she holds you in her arms. You take pride when it doesn’t feel transactional. When she holds you and it feels as if she was meant to. There’s nothing else comparable to it, her frame melting into yours as your soul finds solace in her warm embrace. 

“There’s plenty of things.” Playfully, Abby smirks. 

“Oh yeah. I’m sure.” 

The sarcasm practically drips out of you as her smirk grows wider. 

“Can I ask you something?” You hesitate for a moment as you find her beautiful blue eyes staring into your soul. It’s only then does everything troubling might dissipate while she holds you — secretly hoping it’s forever. 

“You can ask me anything.” 

You give yourself a moment to collect your thoughts as you move to the delicate beat. “Do you ever wish for a life where you could have had a normal life? I wonder if things could be different.” 

Immediately, Abby answers. 

“Not anymore, no, not for a second.” 

If it was even possible, Abby pulls you closer to her, not urging a word more. It’s how she is, cold and distant to some but they don’t feel the stutter in her breath when you’re near or the soft pad of her thumb rubbing soothingly on the back of your hand. Or the soft words of encouragement when you’re having a difficult day. 

They hear none of it. 

She dances with you for a couple more songs, before you find solace on the couch. You lay beneath the moonlight, your body cuddles into her side as you stare up at the sky. 

It’s lost on you how you’ve ended  with her, someone as kind and untainted as her, wanting to spend her free time with you, but you’re grateful for it. Whatever god you have to thank, you’ll get on your knees to praise their alter for bringing Abby into your life. She’s the best thing to ever happen to you and she doesn’t even know it. Albeit, she hardly knows the extent of how wonderful she is. 

“Why here?” 

“It’s a good night, nice weather. Why not?” 

A question with a question. It’s the most straightforward answer you’ll ever give her. Innuendos for the sweet girl to piece together, but with the soft circles being drawn her stomach with the pad of your finger leaves little to nothing to decode. 

“It’s nice, yeah.” 

Abby always has so little to say but her mind swarms with a thousand reasons why this is a bad idea and a million of why this is where the constellations in the jaded sky have led to you. Straight into the pits of innocence, a heart that’s been hurt more times than she can count but still as golden and whole as one could be. 

“What do you think of Italy?” 

“It’s nice.” 

“Nice? That’s all I get?” 

Abby smirks but her body stills when you play with the waistband of her trousers before gliding back to the security of her abdomen, carving the liner of her defined abs. The ones she tries so hard to cover up, but you saw on the very first day you met her. 

“Do you want more?” You ask, an eyebrow raising in suggestion. Abby knows it’s a double edged sword, one she doesn’t want to be injured with. 

“You’re playing a very dangerous game.” Cautiously, Abby warns. “I’m not sure that last drink was a great idea.” 

You rest your head on her sternum, sapphire eyes looking down at you as her hand finds home on your waist, the blunt of your nails scratching softly at her stomach. 

“They always seem like a great idea at the time, don’t they?” With a gentle hand, you caress her scarred cheek, the pad of your thumb gently tenderly kissing the freckled skin. Outlining the softness of her jaw with your left, while your right one refuses to leave her stomach. 

“I don’t see how anyone would ever want to leave you.” Abby hums, not giving you much to go off of, tight lipped as she’s always been. The Nora situation has always been on your mind. One day, Abby’s speaking of her like she’s the love of her life and the next? Abby stiffens so tight when you bring up her name you promise yourself to never speak of it again. Until now, almost two years later, you’re more curious than you have ever been. The fatal ending, not belonging to you, but still you paw for the answers with your greedy palms. 

“You can just ask me if you want to know. I can see the look in your eyes.” 

“What look? I don’t have a—” 

Abby tilts your chin with your palm, leaning into her touch as you often do. 

“Yes, you do.” 

“How do you know this look?” 

“Hm.” Her thumb pulls at your bottom lip, “You’re just trying to get me in trouble now.” 

Your tone shifts, your eyes become transcendent, more crystal clear than they’d been all night. 

“What happened between you and Nora?” You ask, treading lightly on the ground you’re skating upon, in fear the ground beneath you might just crack if you apply too much pressure. 

“Why is it so important to you?” 

“It’s not that it’s—” You face plant into her chest, giving yourself a moment to breathe. Fuck, even her chest smells good. 

“You don’t ask about anything unless it’s of value to anyone. You don’t waste time, you’re very adamant about it. Painfully so.” Blonde eyebrows relax as she closes her eyes for a moment, but her touch on you soothes you. It’s gentle; a somber comfort bleeding into blissful joy. 

“But I’ve spent a lot of time with you.” 

“Yes, you’ve spent a lot of your time with me.

Abby opens her eyes to see you, your head tilted to the right, as you look upon each carve of her angelic face, the one that could only be carved by the gods above, resembling an angel on earth. As pure as the snow with the biggest heart of gold you ever have had the pleasure of knowing. 

“What?” 

“I didn’t say a thing.” You smile slyly. 

“We didn’t break up because of you, if that’s what you’re asking.” Abby sighs, “You’re not some homewrecker. My home with Nora was already wrecked before we met.” 

“Are you just saying it to make me feel better?” 

“No, I’m not.” You play with the ends of her golden hair, it hurts to be this close to what you want but knowing it’s so clearly out of your reach, league even, all of it will end the same. “Nora wasn’t fond of her being my first relationship with a woman. It caused a ripple effect, me feeling like I wasn’t good enough and her feeling like she has to carry me in the relationship, emotionally anyway.” 

“Is that why you broke up?” 

“No.” 

“It was because of me.” You state, as a matter of fact, knowing there is no other truth to be known. With tears welling up in your eyes, an ache  in your heart, one that made you ache all over. The dread of the guilt weighing heavily on your heart, time and distance still isn’t enough for you to run from it. 

“It was a job that was a great opportunity. Alright? It wasn’t you, even if I hadn’t, we both wanted different things. I didn’t even realize it until after but I wasn’t happy. I promise, it has nothing to do with you.” 

What Abby didn’t know, you needed to hear her say those words. In the back of your head, a monstrous demon unleashes in your mind, telling you crashed her relationship. You were the problem and her inevitable doom, but she’s assuring you it wasn’t the case. 

“We hardly knew each other back then.” 

As pathetic as it sounds, Abby can’t imagine her life without you. 

“Yeah hardly.” 

There’s that look again, pouring into Abby’s soul as it eats her up whole, the gleam in your eyes begging for more. It’ll complicate things if Abby gets involved, she knows this, but it already seems like she is despite her best efforts not to be. 

“Did I do good? You always say you miss stargazing with your brother back home. I know it’s not as quiet as the cabin you have, but I thought it would be okay for now.” 

“The view isn’t bad, not one bit.” She admits as she lets you rub her abdomen, the goosebumps crawling upon her skin the more Abby lets you touch her as if she’s yours to hold. “Lev would like it. I’m convinced the kid likes you more than me now.” 

“As he should. I’m pretty damn amazing.” 

“He asks too many questions though.” 

“About what?” 

“I dunno…..things.” Abby retreats back into her shell, the layer of protection she uses to protect herself from getting hurt. Most of all, out of everyone the gods could torture her to be confused about, of course it has to be you. Everyone in your life is always begging for pieces of your time, pieces of your affection and bits of your time to suck you dry. Abby has always wondered how you juggle it all. It feels cruel to even think you would put her in the mix. 

Painfully, there’s nights like tonight, where she sees the desire swarming in your eyes — every part of her pleads to give in to the temptation. Give into something she’s never even let herself think about until the last few months. As thick as drywall, there was a barrier keeping her heart from you, one she kept to protect you and herself even. 

The absolute last thing she wanted was to wreck everything this has to offer. If she makes the wrong move, all of it can come crashing down on you…it’s the last thing she wants. Make you a martyr in her story, one she thinks and dreams of often but knows you’re too big for her to exist in your life. The circles you run in don’t even exist in the same planet, the same fucking universe if Abby’s being honest. 

“What things?” You pout, your hand traveling south, caressing her thigh with a familiarity Abby wishes you didn’t have. She wishes for a lot but they never come true, that’s all you can be, a dying wish Abby curses upon a fading star.  

“It’s just stupid shit, not worth mentioning.” 

“Abby…” 

“Yeah?” 

“I—” You take a deep breath, your voice already shaky and you haven’t even told her yet. “I don’t think you even know how much you mean to me.” Abby isn’t sure where you’re going with this, terrifying her instantly. 

Have you finally had your fill of her? Were you gonna fire her? Now? 

“Lev doesn’t just talk to you about us.” 

“Us?” Nervously, Abby stomach clenches, unprepared for where this conversation is heading. 

“Why are you so scared?” 

Abby visibly and loudly gulps, almost making you giggle slightly. 

“I-I’m not.” 

The stonewall she attempts to hide behind but you won’t let her, not tonight. Slumping in the shadows, waiting for you to find someone else to love as she watches your happiness from a far, that’s what she allows herself. Nothing more and nothing less. 

“Abs, look at me.” She meets your eyes, away from the constellations in the sky, afraid if she looks for a moment too long she’ll be stuck here forever. “Talk to me, m’right here, not going anywhere unless you want me to.” 

Instantly, Abby grips your hips, keeping you in your place. 

“No, that’s not—” 

“What?” 

“I’m not what you want. I’m surely not what anyone needs. Hell, I’ve only been with one woman which is deemed to be for not being enough, right? I’m the girl who came out too late, who doesn’t have enough experience but because I’m built like some fucking adonis I need to know whatever the fuck I’m doing but I don’t. I never know what I’m doing. The only thing I know how to do is protect you, that’s all I’m good for and I’m not gonna screw that up just because I—” 

“Because what?” Your pelvis is on top of hers, your face coming closer to Abby’s, watching as you are irrevocably close to her, closer than you’ve ever been, wet lips ghosting over her pouty pink lips. Abby doesn’t even know when you moved, how you got so close, too lost in her own head to register your movements. 

“It doesn’t matter.” Abby puffs out. 

“It matters to me.” You sink into her, further, if it's even possible. “No one matters more than you, alright?” 

“But there’s people.” Abby looks for an excuse to get up, she comes up enough so she’s sitting up against the armrest of the patio couch, holding your lower back as she does so, leaving you straddling her hips. 

“I don’t care. All that matters is you.” You push a piece of blonde hair away, seeing her beautiful cheeks more clearly, her shining blue eyes finding its unique path to your heart, the one especially made for her. “Here just let me talk, alright? You don’t have to say anything. Just listen.” 

Abby is nearly crying, practically purring as you run your fingers through her cascading blonde hair. It’s too much but not enough. Although she is sure of one thing, the one thing she wants more than anything. 

“I’ve always been one for pretty girls. I had a reputation around Hollywood, always chasing one after the next, never reaching my fill or as the tabloids like to say.” You chuckled half-heartedly; the wound cutting deeper than you would have liked. “My publicist having to pay paparazzi an obscene amount of money to get these photos from ever hitting online, month after month, it was pathetic really. Just trying to fill a hole, one I didn’t even know how to fill.” 

“I didn’t know that.” 

“It’s not something I’m proud of and I never wanted you to see me differently but I’m not ashamed anymore though. I’m not that person anymore. I haven’t been since I met you.” Abby falls silent, her cheeks turning crimson before she can try to hide it “You not knowing how I was, it's just the humbling I needed. Not to mention you were the most beautiful woman I had ever seen— you still are— but you had a girlfriend so I kept my feelings silent. Something just felt different with you and then you were single and I was afraid of you.” 

“Why?” 

“Because I didn’t want to ruin you so I made a promise to myself. I would never start anything with you, not unless I was in love with you.” 

“You love me?” 

“It’s impossible not to.” You sigh into her, forehead pressed against hers, her strong hold not letting go. “You don’t have to say anything or do anything. I don’t expect anything in return. I just can’t live in a world where you think because you’re not experienced as some, you think you’re less than people who are.” 

“It’s true, I’m not there with everyone else and it shows.” 

“Abby, you’re not getting it.” 

“Well, no shit. I’m not good enough for any of this, you especially.” 

“It’s not…” You bite your lip as you reach for her hands on your waist, intertwining them with your own. “Abs, it would’ve saved me a lot of trouble.” Your lips ghost over her lips again, but this time Abby inches closer, her breath warm as it hits your mouth. 

“What?” 

“If I was a patient person and waited for you.” 

More than before, Abby’s breath is heavy as the rise and fall of her chest is rapid, trying to calm herself down but it’s impossible when you’re this close. It’s a lot for her, maybe she’s overly sensitive, but your touch is practically lighting her on fire. Abby wonders if it will ever be able to be put out or if your magnetic touch will leave her scorned. 

Puppy eyes inwardly pleading for an ounce of your touch, so sweet as she supports your weight with her strong thighs, anchoring you to her — never quite letting go. A single glance detrimental to the layer of protection she built around herself. 

“There’s no more waiting, m’right here.” Abby closes the gap indefinitely, lips connecting with yours as they move in perfect harmony, as if this is what she was made for. Involuntarily, she whimpers in your mouth as you gently tug at her bottom nibble at her bottom lip, your tongue sliding in as it dominates her own. It happens too quickly — the way her very being melts into you. 

Like honey to a bee, there’s nothing that’s ever been so sweet. 

This is all you need. 

“Abby?” 

“Yeah, angel?” 

“Let’s get out of here.”

taglist: @brackishkittie @only4theweeknd @tlouloser @marvelwomenarehot0 @grey-jedi12 @r3starttt @bittersu1te @pxgeturner @maxinephobia @marsworldd @aouiaa @twopeoplee @i-lov3-w0men @lvlymicha @half-of-a-gay @pa-co @rkivedpages @abbyspup @lucidfairies @lizzygrant @yourfriendlyneighborhoodeden @iluvme9 @skzhoiic @angelynn-nicole @hearts4joongie @moonyvs4 @loveyru @imdrowningindispair @random-fag @swinesb @spacewlf

[hanasnx]

“ YOU GOT A FETISH FOR MY LOVE, I PUSH YOU OUT AND YOU COME RIGHT BACK ” — anakin skywalker.

MINORS DNI 18+ ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 .ᐟ NOTES: if this counts for kinktober, i'm saying the kink is begging. WARNINGS: ex!anakin ノ fem reader ノ mild angst ノ established relationship ノ size difference ノ sexual content: some p in v stuff ノ pathetic begging anakin.

All of your relationships leading up to this point had resolutely ended. There were no loose ends, and nothing worth sacrificing your self-respect for. You'd cut them off, or burn the bridge if you had to, just to ensure you couldn't backslide on your decision. It's an incredible trust to place in yourself, and a little lonely. No matter how much your heart ached for the person you separated from, you would not reach out, and you'd make it pretty clear you didn't want to hear from them either. One exception stands before you now, that familiar crease in EX!ANAKIN SKYWALKER's brow as he demands to be let inside.

"It can't end like this." A statement that leaves no room for argument. One of the reasons you called it quits in the first place is dating a general doesn't feel like dating, it just feels like taking orders. "Do you have any idea what I've done for you? What I've sacrificed?" he admonishes incredulously, taking up the space of your doorway as stand your ground.

"Anakin- leave." you command. You know he's just here to pick a fight, to see if he can break your spirit with guilt-tripping manipulations. It's hard to feel large against a towering figure like General Skywalker, but you're bold enough to try to. Even if he can sweep you out of his way with an arm, you block his entrance with your body.

"You stubborn girl. You don't understand anything, do you?" he spits, the deep lines of his scowl drawing shadows that cascade his expression to a near unrecognizable degree. If you didn't know him, you'd fear for your safety.

"I told you to go!" you cry, jabbing your finger over his shoulder to signal him to turn around.

He advances, forcing you to arch away. "You don't mean that!" His voice is a lot louder than yours, and it carries. The frown in your brow relaxes as your eyes widen in response to his outburst. In a way, it's a keen reading. If it combats the loneliness of your self-sabotaging nature, you wish you'd let yourself invite him to stay. However, your pride has gotten you this far, and you don't want to appear weak. Perhaps, you don't want him to go, but it's the right thing to do.

You've been through so much together, and you're sure that he only holds onto you so tightly because you're all he's ever known when it comes to romantic entanglements. If he had been more experienced when you'd met him, he wouldn't have such passionate outrage about being refused.

He's the only one who's chased you so closely while you ran away. Retreating from intimacy, retreating from love, he's the only one who's seen right through you, and demanded you anyway.

"Anakin, you should go." you whisper against his lips as he backs you up deeper into your apartment. Eager hands curtly whip your clothes from your body, careful not to disrupt the connection of your mouths, recycling breath between you.

"Please, don't say that—You don't mean that." he murmurs, the vulnerability of being rejected laced into his plea. Your hands suspended in air from shock come to rest on his leather padding, helping him out of his robing like you've done a thousand times before. It's like a dance, the way your figures move fluidly, retracing the steps, how he backs you up against the wall as he slips his tongue between your lips, tilting his head to reach you as you're less than cooperative. The taste of him intoxicates you, coaxing your own tongue to smooth over his, and he expels a pleasant noise through his nose. His fingers splay on your shoulders, keeping you in place while staying at an uncharacteristic distance. It's as if he's begging for you with his body, showing you he'll do whatever it takes to prove to you his devotion, his love. Kiss him without touching places he's not allowed to touch anymore.

Part of you wishes he'd get over that, and in a fit of impatience, you place them for him, tracing them over the curves of your bare figure.

Herding you to the bedroom you once shared, his hand comes to cup the nape of your neck, pinning you to him as he delves his tongue deeper. You've never had anyone kiss you like Anakin, and if you didn't care for him it would be unpleasant. The impatient plunge of an inexperienced lover still laces the way he makes out with you, and it's clingy, it's forceful, it's desperate. At its end, he sucks your bottom lip between his, dragging it through his teeth. Plump, wet, and pink he speaks against yours, hushed and hurried. "Say you love me." he breathes—another plea, delicately concealed.

"Say you love me." he asks again, holding your gaze while he enters you. The fragile flinch of his softened features endears you, reintroducing his sex to yours as if its his first time—like the sensation is just too much, evidenced by the hitch in his throat when he questions you.

He sinks to the hilt over and over again, using his own hands to wrap your legs around his hips, keeping you close in embrace. He squeezes his eyes shut, grunting through his mouth from effort as he buys your love with his body, begs for your attention through his pitying ministrations. "Say you love me." he pleas one more time. "Please- please, I need you. Even if you don't mean it, even if you hate me... just... just..."

You bite hard into your lip, trying to think your way through the pleasure coursing through your veins. Skin hot and mind occupied, you clutch onto him as if he grounds you. In the dull light of the room, you find his eyes again, glossy and bloodshot. You palm his cheek, and his face softens. "I love you." you concede. The wall you've put up begins to dismantle.

[inuyashaluver]

Leah williamson:

reader plays for chelsea and they have a match chelsea vs arsenal

north london is ? - leah williamson

leah williamson x reader

description: in which you and your girlfriend are enemies on the pitch but absolutely smitten for each other

warnings: suggestive? little swearing - whole lot of fluff, not proofread oopsies

a/n: happy september my loves!!! i eat this shit up, your honour! thank you for the request, enjoyyyyyyyy

⋆ ★ ⋆ ★ ⋆ ★ ⋆ ★ ⋆

if there was something that leah felt immense pride over, it would be her lifelong club. arsenal was her home, her place of comfort, and who would’ve expected the girl that bleeds red to be in love with someone that bleeds blue?

leah williamson of arsenal was in love with you, from chelsea.

—

you and leah, the two peas in a pod were incredibly infatuated with each other. it all started in national camps, you and leah collectively making it up in the ranks together. originally, the two of you were best friends, exactly two months apart in age, 5 minutes away from each other's houses.

the progression was natural, and so unbelievably unexpected. you and leah literally began dating out of nowhere.

it was after both of you had training for your respective teams, you went to leah’s, did your usual routine of making dinner together, watching at least three movies before you would head home.

though this one time, when leah walked you to the door, things took a turn.

“alright, babe, drive safe please” leah breathes out, her hand cupping your cheek, smiling at you sweetly before placing a tender kiss on your lips.

you both didn’t even process what just happened. you nod diligently, “i will lee, see you tomorrow!” you grin, closing the door behind you, walking all the way to your car before you freeze.

leah just kissed you. you rush back up to her door, about to knock before leah quickly swung it open before you could even say her name.

“i just kissed you” leah exclaimed, you nod, your hand coming up to touch your lips, “you just kissed me” you confirm, both of you stared at each other for a moment, seconds going by, though feeling like hours.

you and leah both giggle, her hand coming to yours and intertwining them, the other angling your face upwards before she placed her lips on yours once more, slowly backing you into her house. and that’s when you realised, you were in love.

—

you and leah moved in together quickly, a new house the two of you have called home for 5 years. the funniest thing about your relationship, the two of you being in rival clubs. though, you and leah loved it.

you and leah were incredibly flirty in your relationship, teasing being one of yours and leah’s main attributes. you were competitive in the best way, keeping your relationship off the pitch saving the both of you completely.

“oh don’t you look gorgeous!” you tease, coming up behind leah and hugging her from the back. the girl was literally just wearing blue. she laughs, leaning back into you with a cheeky smile as she raked her hair back into a ponytail. 

“well look at you, missy” she gawks jokingly, referring to her red shorts you were wearing, you hop up on the bathroom counter next to her, the girl not hesitating to stand between your open legs while she continued to get ready for bed.

“this means nothing, cappy” you smile at her, booping her nose with your finger before leaning forward to kiss her cheek.

she smiles the moment your lips touched her skin, still feeling giddy after all these years when you showed even the tiniest bit of affection. “mhm, and this colour means nothing, baby” she says cheekily, scrunching her nose up cutely before kissing you.

her hand rests on your thigh, giving it a loving squeeze. when she pulls back from the kiss, she grins at you wolfishly, “but i love you in red” her eyes taking in your appearance.

“sorry but not happening, beautiful” you smile, kissing her again before pulling her into a hug, literally clinging onto her. you always missed her, even when she was right in front of you.

“alright then, maybe we should take the red off” she teases in your ear, her finger making its way to the waistband of the shorts, pulling them back to snap back against your skin.

you chuckle, pulling back to look at her. she smirks when you look her up at down, your hands going under her shirt, “only if i can take the blue off you, i know you don't like it and i can't have you dying on me” you mockingly pout, smiling right after seeing the way leah was looking at you.

“my sweet baby, it's a deal” she laughs, pulling you into a languid kiss before dragging you out of the bathroom.

—

when it came to derby days, oh did you two have fun. you would get ready together dressed in two different club training outfits, being incredibly flirty until the moment you got to your cars and went into game mode. it was hilarious.

“listen, you can score a goal but not past me, got it, darlin’?” leah says sternly, though eyes forming complete hearts as her hand squeezed your cheeks together. “nah, i’m gonna get it past you on purpose” you grin, pulling her hand down to hold it instead. 

she narrows her eyes at you jokingly, her free hand pinching your cheek. “cheeky” she smiles, her hand going from a pinch to a loving caress of her thumb.

“do your best and be careful please, lee baby” your other squeezing her shoulder tenderly. she nods seriously, “you too, my girl” thumb still caressing the apple of your cheek.

you smile and nod at her, letting her hug you tightly, slightly lifting you in the air before she put you down again. “go or you’ll be late” she grins, kissing you sweetly as she pushes you more towards your car.

“always captain williamson, aren't you? it’s not a lioness game” you tease, leah rolls her eyes fondly, squeezing your hips. “yeah, yeah” she cuts you off, kissing you again before opening your car door.

“i love you, my love who is on the wrong side” she teases, “i love you too, my love who is also on the wrong side” you smile cheekily. “ha ha, funny” she kisses you again before pushing you in the car. 

“come on, i don’t want you to be late” she ushers, “if i’m late, i could miss the game and you could win, silly girl,” you tease. leah thinks for a moment, “you’re right actually” she tries to pry you out of the car.

you laugh closing the door, waving at her with the cheesiest smile ever. she waves back in a way that matches your energy before watching you drive away, smiling when you turned off the street before getting in her car and making her own way to the bus.

—

as both teams warm up on the pitch, you and leah began the teasing again. leah walked up to you, hand on your hip as you talked to niamh about something random.

“this doesn’t look like warming up girls” she teases, you shake your head, recognising the touch and voice quicker than the speed of light.

“and what are you doing, lee lee?” you smile up at her, booping her nose with yours, something niamh grimaced at fondly before walking up to aggie to leave the lovebirds alone.

“i can’t come say hello?” she smiles, spinning you around to face her. you can’t help but smile back at her, feeling the love bubble up in your chest.

“are you sure you’re not spying?’ you tease, leah gasps, “never!” you laugh, your hand squeezing her bicep. she gives you a quick, tame kiss before separating from you. "you're forgetting i know you better than myself" she flirts, "you too" you tease.

“do your best, babe” you pull her in for another quick kiss, “you do your best, lee” she smiles, “alright, now go away, you’re distracting me” she jokes.

you laugh in surprise, giving her a playful shove, “you came here! you’re on my side!” you shake your head, leah runs backwards, shrugging her shoulders, “nah, babe, never!” she winks, blowing you a kiss before going back to training.

—

the game ended with an arsenal win, though you managed to score a goal, the score just rounding off to be 2-1. a derby was always a hard match to play, especially if it was at the emirates.

you and leah always saved each other till last at the end of a match, a tradition even from when you were both best friends. she gives you a bittersweet smile when you spot her towards the middle of the pitch, she holds her arms out to you.

you smile, walking into them and letting out a long sigh, leah always gave the best hugs, especially after a loss. “you played so well my love, that goal was class” she says comfortingly, her hands rubbing up and down your back.

there was always a little disappointment after a loss but leah made it so much better. “you played amazing, lee baby” you smile up at her proudly, your hand brushing a stray hair off her forehead from her ponytail. 

“i’m proud of you, darlin’” she kisses your forehead, swaying you gently from side to side, always knowing how to make you feel better as if it was second nature.

“i’m proud of you, baby” you grin, “i almost got that second goal past you, huh?” you tease, leah groans and rolls her eyes with mock anger, “nah, you did not” smile fighting its way to her lips. 

“i did so!” you place your chin on her chest as you look up at her, “listen here, you little shit-” she laughs, though is cut off when you rip yourself from her arms and sprint around the pitch.

the both of you laugh so hard as she chased you around, leah managing to catch you and tackle you to the ground.

you both huff and puff, running around like that after 90 minutes was rough.

you both stare at each other before breaking into another fit of giggles, letting leah help you off the ground before you both went and did a lap of photos and signatures together, just the way you both liked it.

⋆ ★ ⋆ ★ ⋆ ★ ⋆ ★ ⋆

you know the drill - pretend it’s you!! ily keiraaaa

liked by bethmead_ and 44, 232 others

leahwilliamsonn: fav time of the year with my fav person xx

view all comments

yourname: you're just saying this cause im not in my chelsea gear

↳ leahwilliamson: WHATTTT? NOOOOOOOOOOOOO

↳ yourname: sure, hun

yourname: my fav time too actually

↳ leahwilliamsonn: i'm not your fav person?!

↳ yourname: OF COURSE YOU ARE

↳ yourname: just not on derby days

↳ leahwilliamsonn: touché

[gracie-eilish]

My Valentine💝

an: i have long nails on again so pls excuse any typos…. typing is hard😭

The scent of roses fills Billie’s place the moment you step inside, the warm glow of candles flickering across the walls. Soft music plays in the background—something romantic but unmistakably her, a perfect blend of dreamy and intimate. You barely have time to take in the cozy, love-filled atmosphere before Billie appears from around the corner, her face lighting up like you’re the most beautiful thing she’s ever seen.

“There’s my Valentine,” she purrs, already making her way toward you with that signature cheeky grin. She’s wearing an oversized sweater—your favorite one on her, of course—and a pair of cozy sweatpants, but somehow she still looks like she belongs on the cover of a magazine.

You smile, setting your bag down just as she throws her arms around your neck, pressing a lingering kiss to your cheek before pulling back slightly to study your face. “Happy Valentine’s Day, angel,” she murmurs, her hands sliding down your arms before intertwining your fingers with hers.

“Happy Valentine’s Day,” you reply, squeezing her hands. “This all looks amazing.”

She shrugs, but the glint in her eyes betrays her pride. “Only the best for my girl.”

Before you can reply, she’s tugging you further inside, leading you to the living room, where a blanket fort—yes, a full-on blanket fort—is set up in the middle of the room. Fairy lights are strung up along the edges, twinkling softly, and inside, a mountain of pillows and blankets makes it look like the coziest, dreamiest hideaway imaginable.

You laugh, eyes wide with delight. “Billie, did you make a whole pillow fort for us?”

She grins, guiding you down onto the soft pile of blankets. “Obviously. What kind of girlfriend would I be if I didn’t give my Valentine the cutest, coziest setup for our big romantic night?”

You shake your head, beaming as you settle in beside her. “You are ridiculous.”

She smirks, pressing a kiss to your shoulder before nuzzling into you. “Ridiculously in love with you, maybe.”

Your heart does a little flip, but before you can get too flustered, she’s already reaching for a tray of chocolate-covered strawberries sitting nearby. She picks one up and holds it near your lips, eyes glinting with mischief.

“Open up mama,’” she teases, barely suppressing a giggle.

You play along, opening your mouth just as she slowly—painfully slowly—brings the strawberry to your lips. But just as you’re about to take a bite, she pulls it away at the last second, grinning wickedly.

“Billie!” you protest, swatting at her playfully.

She laughs, delighted by her own antics. “Okay, okay, I’ll be nice,” she concedes, finally feeding you the strawberry properly. She watches you with amusement as you chew, eyes flicking down to your lips before she leans in and kisses the corner of your mouth, humming. “Mmm. Even sweeter on you.”

Your face burns at the compliment, and she lives for it, giggling as she pops a strawberry into her own mouth. “You’re really laying it on thick tonight,” you say, raising a brow at her.

She shrugs, all faux innocence. “What, I can’t shamelessly hype up my beautiful girlfriend on the most romantic day of the year?”

You narrow your eyes playfully. “You always hype me up.”

She gasps dramatically. “And I’ll never stop. Not when my girl is the most stunning, incredible, talented human being to ever exist.”

You groan, hiding your face in your hands. “You are so extra.”

She giggles, prying your hands away so she can pepper your face with kisses—cheeks, nose, forehead, lips—until you’re breathless from laughing. “But you love it,” she teases, her voice softer now, eyes full of adoration.

You meet her gaze, and suddenly, the playful energy shifts into something quieter, more tender. The air between you hums with warmth, and Billie reaches up to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear before resting her hand on your cheek.

“I mean it,” she murmurs, her thumb tracing gentle circles against your skin. “I love you. So much. And I just… I want you to feel that. Every second of today. Every second of every day.”

Your breath catches, heart swelling at the sincerity in her voice. You cup her face in your hands, mirroring her touch, and smile softly. “I do feel it, Billie,” you whisper. “Every day. You make sure of that.”

She exhales a happy sigh, her forehead dropping against yours. “Good,” she murmurs, her lips brushing against yours in the softest, sweetest kiss.

The rest of the night is a blur of warmth and laughter, of stolen kisses and whispered confessions. You curl up together in the fort, sharing chocolates and playing silly games, Billie making it her mission to make you blush at every opportunity.

At some point, she starts listing all the things she loves about you—your laugh, the way you scrunch your nose when you’re thinking, the way you look at her like she’s your whole world. And by the time the night winds down, and she’s lying half-asleep against your chest, her voice heavy with drowsy affection, you realize that this—this perfect, love-filled night—is all you could have ever wanted for Valentine’s Day.

And with Billie in your arms, pressing one last lazy kiss to your collarbone before whispering, “I love you, lovey,” you know you’ll remember this night forever.

[bethsvrse]

★WHISPER CHALLENGE★

PAIRING Hugh Jackman x actress!reader

WARNINGS little spicy at the end but other then that it’s just fluff

The lights brighten, the band strikes up a tune, and the studio audience is buzzing with excitement. Jimmy Fallon’s voice cuts through the noise with his signature infectious energy.

“Welcome back, everyone!” Jimmy Fallon’s voice booms over the studio, pulling the crowd’s attention back to the stage. “Tonight, we have a very special guest with us! She’s an incredible actress, a producer, a writer, and she just so happens to be starring in the new film Little Light. Please give it up for Y/N Jackman!”

You step onto the stage, beaming as the audience erupts into cheers and applause. You wave, offering them that warm, genuine smile you’ve perfected over the years. Settling into the guest chair, you take a moment to appreciate the atmosphere—there’s something so alive about being on Jimmy’s show.

Jimmy beams at you, leaning forward in his chair, the playful glint in his eyes unmistakable. “I have to say, Y/N, it’s great to have you back. You’re always such a fun guest, and now you’re starring in Little Light — which I’ve heard so many incredible things about. It’s a powerful story.”

You nod, crossing one leg over the other as you settle in. “Yes, uh Little Light is really close to my heart. It’s about a mother who experiences a miscarriage and finds an unexpected connection with her neighbor’s granddaughter, who’s staying with her grandmother for the summer.”

Jimmy nods, looking thoughtful. “That sounds like such a moving story, I’m so excited to watch it. And—if I’m not mistaken—you’re starring in the movie alongside your own daughter, River?”

A smile crosses your face, a mix of pride and affection filling your voice. “Yes, that’s right. River plays the granddaughter in the film, and she’s absolutely phenomenal. I mean, I’m biased, obviously, but she blew me away on set. She’s 16 now and really coming into her own as an actress. She’s got such natural talent, and working with her… it’s been such an incredible experience.”

The audience lets out a collective “aww,” and Jimmy grins, his eyes widening in that playful way he has. “Sixteen?! She’s already acting with her mum—how cool is that?”

“Yeah, sixteen going on thirty, I swear,” you joke, shaking your head with a smile. “But, to be honest, it hasn’t been easy. With her rising career, my work, Hugh’s work, we’re constantly on the move. It’s hard to balance everything sometimes. And right now, she’s back at the hotel, actually. She wasn’t feeling too great, so she’s watching this on TV, probably critiquing every word I say.” You chuckle and wave at the camera. “Hey, sweetie! Get well soon, I love you.” You added with a small kiss to the camera.

Jimmy leans forward conspiratorially. “So, does she give you notes after interviews like this?”

“Oh, absolutely,” you reply, grinning. “She’ll text me after every appearance like, ‘Mum, why did you say that?’ or ‘You looked a bit awkward there.’ She’s brutally honest. But I love it.”

Jimmy laughs along with you before shifting in his chair. “You know, something else I heard… and you can tell me if this is true… you haven’t seen Hugh in almost a year?”

“Sadly, that is correct,” you say with a wistful sigh. “With Little Light being an Australian movie, we filmed it there—which, don’t get me wrong, was absolutely amazing to be back home—but it meant that River and I were always across the world. We’d typically be filming in America, so a 10-hour flight was manageable to visit Hugh. But an 18-hour one? Neither of us could do it with filming so it’s been tough. FaceTime has been our best friend at the moment,” you joked with a small laugh, trying to lighten the tension in the room that Jimmy could definitely feel, not so much the audience though.

Jimmy looks genuinely sympathetic. “That’s gotta be so hard, especially after all this time together. But you two… you’ve been through a lot, and you always seem to make it work.”

You nod appreciatively. “We do. We’ve been married for a long time now, and we’ve gotten pretty good at the long-distance thing. But it’s never easy. The reunions, though… those are always something special.”

After some more laughs and talking about the movie, it’s time for the commercial break. You sip some water, chatting briefly with Jimmy off-camera, as the stagehands move around preparing for the next segment.

As the cameras roll back on, Jimmy is already in game mode. “Alright, Y/N! You know we love to play games here, so I figured we’d try something a little fun,” he says, holding up a pair of headphones.

You laugh softly, already anticipating whatever wild challenge is coming. “Oh boy, what have you got in store for me, Jimmy?”

“We’re gonna play the ‘Whisper Challenge!’” he announces, holding up the headphones for the audience to see. “I’m going to wear these headphones and try to guess what you’re saying while I listen to loud music, then it’ll be your turn. Sound good?”

You nod, leaning back in your chair with a playful glint in your eyes. “Sounds great!“

Jimmy slips on his headphones and gives you a thumbs-up. The music starts blasting in his ears, and you mouth the phrase silently, moving your lips in exaggerated fashion.

Jimmy squints at you, clearly baffled. “Uh… Salad dressing?” he guesses.

The audience erupts into laughter as you shake your head, mouthing the phrase again.

“Santa’s resting?” Jimmy tries again, causing another round of laughter.

You give him one more exaggerated mouth of the phrase. “Shopping center?” He said confused, “I’m so bad at this,” he said, much more loudly then he meant form the music coming from his head phones.

You repeated the words once more, putting on as much emphasis as you could and you watched as Jimmy’s face lit up. “Little Light! Little Light!” He said excitedly before taking off his headphones, “it was little light right?” He asked almost worried.

You let out a small laugh with a nod, “yes, yes it was little light.”

“Whew! I was worried I’d never get that one. I wasn’t even close as well, Santa’s resting? Where did I get that,” Jimmy chuckles, slipping off his headphones and shaking his head in amusement. “Alright, your turn!”

He hands you the headphones, and as you place them over your ears, you give him a grin. The loud music blasts into your ears almost immediately, and you can't help but laugh to yourself—this was definitely River’s favorite song. She’d been playing it nonstop in the car, at home… pretty much everywhere.

Jimmy raises his voice slightly to speak over the music, “What’s playing?”

You respond without thinking, still adjusting the headphones so they were no longer on your ears. “What? Oh shit—wait, are we playing yet?! Sorry for swearing! My bad!” you blurt out, the apology spilling out before you even register Jimmy laughing across from you.

“No, no! You’re good!” Jimmy reassures you, still chuckling. “I asked you what song was playing.” He repeated

“It’s murder on the dance floor,” you answered, “River absolutely loves this song.” You added, flashing him a sheepish grin before putting the headphones back on. The game begins, and as Jimmy starts mouthing words, you do your best to concentrate, squinting as if that might help you somehow decipher the movements of his lips.

“your husband is behind you.” He said, emphasing the word.

You tilt your head, not quite catching what he said. “The tour is behind me? What?” You shrug, honestly still a little distracted by the music.

The audience suddenly bursts into loud cheers, and you notice the energy in the room shift. Your brow furrows in confusion as you glance back at Jimmy, who’s now practically glowing with excitement. He repeats himself slowly, exaggerating every word, “YOUR HUSBAND… IS BEHIND YOU.”

Before you can even process what he’s saying, you feel a pair of hands gently land on your shoulders. You jump slightly, your headphones slipping off as you whirl around—only to see Hugh standing right there, grinning down at you.

Your eyes go wide, your mouth falling open in shock. Without thinking, you spin in your chair, shifting to kneel on the cushion so you can throw your arms around him. The audience erupts into applause and cheers as you hug him tightly, not even caring that you’re half-perched on the chair. You squeeze your eyes shut for a second, savoring the moment of finally having him close after so long apart.

Hugh chuckles softly, his voice warm and full of affection. “Missed me?”

You pull back just enough to look up at him, still in disbelief. “You have no idea,” you whisper, your smile so big it almost hurts. “Oh my god.”

Jimmy laughs, clapping his hands together as the audience’s cheers grow louder. "Hugh Jackman, everybody!" he calls out, standing up and joining in the applause.

Hugh gives a small wave to the audience before turning his attention back to you. You’re still in shock, hands covering your mouth as you try to comprehend what just happened. The cameras catch every second of your raw, genuine reaction, and it’s clear to everyone that this moment means everything to you.

Jimmy, ever the showman, grins and says, “I think we just had the best Whisper Challenge moment in history right here!”

You laugh, watching as Hugh comes to sit next to you. “I did not expect that. You sneaky bastard,” you joke, playfully swatting his arm.

Hugh chuckles, his arm resting behind you. “I figured I’d surprise you, and when Jimmy reached out to me about it, I thought, ‘Why not?’ It’s been way too long.”

Jimmy leans forward, loving every second of this wholesome interaction. “So, Hugh, how did you manage to keep this a secret from Y/N?”

“Oh, it wasn’t easy,” Hugh admits, smirking. “I had to avoid every FaceTime call for the last few days so I wouldn’t slip up. But it was worth it.”

You shake your head, still smiling, feeling your heart swell with happiness. “I can’t believe you pulled this off.”

Hugh chuckles, taking your hand in his. “It was just too good of an opportunity to pass up.”

Jimmy sits back down, looking at Hugh with newfound enthusiasm. “Alright, Hugh, now that you’re here, I’ve gotta ask—how excited are you to see Little Light?”

Hugh’s eyes light up. “Oh, I’m thrilled! I’ve seen some early footage, and it’s incredible. I tried to get Y/N to show me more but she won’t budge.”

You laugh, looking over at him lovingly, “just because your my husband doesn’t mean you get special treatment.” You teased

“I showed you unreleased Deadpool and Wolverine footage!” Hugh defended with a smile.

“You wanted to! You said you desperately needed someone to talk to about it because Ryan was annoying you.” You replied

“I did not say that. Stop putting words in my mouth,” he says with a small shake of his head but still having a smile on his face.

“I’m not putting words in your mouth! If anything River is because she told me that’s what you said on the phone!” You said, Hugh letting out a laugh, muttering of course she did under his breath.

“Speaking of River, what do you think about her acting career? I mean, she’s following in her parents’ footsteps in a big way.” Jimmy asked with a smile

Hugh’s face softens with pride as he talks about his daughter. “I’m incredibly proud of her. She’s got so much talent and dedication. Watching her grow and develop her craft has been one of the most rewarding experiences of my life. She’s worked so hard, and seeing her succeed is just amazing. We have to get all of us in a film together.” He added with a soft laugh.

“I’m sure she’s jumping up and down in the hotel room because she gets to see her dad again.” Jimmy smiles.

“I can actually call her,” Hugh mentions casually as he brings out his phone.

“Oh my god, yes.” Jimmy nodded, leaning in as it rang.

“You can get mad at her for being sick,” you told Jimmy with a smirk.

The phone rings a few more times before River picks up, her voice immediately full of energy. “Oh my god,I can’t believe you’re here!” She explained happily. “I wish I was there. Why the hell did I have to be sick today of all days.” She sighed, “I do have to say that if you don’t come straight to the hotel after the interview I will genuinely never speak to you again.”

Hugh laughs softly, shaking his head in mock disbelief. "You heard that, right? No pressure or anything." He looks at you and Jimmy with a grin.

"She’s got you wrapped around her little finger, doesn’t she?" Jimmy teases, leaning forward as if he’s sharing a secret.

You nod, chiming in with a smirk, “Completely. He doesn’t stand a chance.”

River’s voice comes through the speaker, playfully annoyed. “Mum, don’t gang up on him! I’m sick, remember?”

“Oh trust me, I know,” you say, feigning seriousness. “I’m the one who had to watch The Office with you for the past two days.”

Hugh chuckles, shaking his head. “You love it, admit it.”

“I do, I do, I got to baby her again so it was great,” you confess with a laugh, before addressing River again. “Alright, sweetie, we’ll come straight to the hotel after this, I promise.”

“You’d better,” River replies, her tone softening. “Love you both. Get through the rest of the interview, then come hang out with your sick daughter.”

“Love you too,” Hugh says before hanging up the call, slipping his phone back into his pocket. He leans back in his chair, looking content. “She’s always keeping us on our toes.”

Jimmy smiles warmly, looking between the two of you. “I’ve gotta say, you three are the definition of family goals. I love it.”

You glance at Hugh, sharing a knowing look before turning back to Jimmy. “We’re pretty lucky, that’s for sure.”

“Well, I think that’s a perfect note to wrap things up. Y/N, Hugh, thank you both so much for being here. It’s been an absolute pleasure. And Hugh, it’s always great to have you. Don’t forget, everyone—go see Little Light in cinemas August 14th, and mark your calendars for Deadpool and Wolverine on July 26th!” Jimmy says with a large smile.

The interview wraps with a warm round of applause, and as soon as the cameras stop rolling, you and Hugh exchange quick smiles with Jimmy before stepping off the stage. The lights dim, and the lively hum of the audience fades into the background as you make your way toward the backstage area. Hugh’s arm wraps around your waist, drawing you closer as you navigate the narrow hallway.

As soon as you’re inside the dressing room, the tension hits like a wave. Hugh’s hand doesn’t leave your side, fingers brushing your waist like he’s scared you’ll slip away again. The door barely clicks shut before his lips crash into yours—no hesitation, no holding back, just pure need after a year of waiting.

You melt into him immediately, your hands flying up to grip his shoulders, fingers digging in as if you need to make sure he’s solid, that this isn’t just another dream of him that you’ll wake up from alone. The kiss deepens, hot and urgent, months of distance and longing pouring into it. The way he holds you, like he’s afraid you’ll disappear if he lets go, makes your heart skip.

Your back hits the door with a thud, and you can’t help but smile into the kiss, breathless but teasing as you mumble against his lips, “You know... someone might hear us.”

His lips curve into a grin, and he pulls back just enough to look at you, forehead resting against yours, his eyes dark with hunger. His hands slide down your body, fingers tightening at your hips, pulling you closer until there’s not an inch of space between you. “Let them,” he breathes, voice low, almost a growl. “I don’t give a damn. I’ve waited a whole fucking year for this. For you. Let the whole world hear.”

Your laugh comes out soft, shaky, your heart pounding in your chest like it’s trying to keep pace with his. You let your hands wander down his chest, feeling the hard muscle beneath his shirt, the steady thud of his heartbeat beneath your fingertips. “I missed you too,” you whisper, eyes locked on his. Then you pull him back into a kiss—this one slower, more deliberate, but still burning with the intensity that’s been building for far too long.

Every touch, every brush of his lips against yours, feels like it’s pulling you deeper into him, and for the first time in what feels like forever, you let yourself give in. His hands explore, tracing your sides, your back, reacquainting themselves with every inch of you. You respond in kind, your hands sliding beneath his shirt, fingers mapping the familiar lines of his torso, rediscovering every scar, every dip and ridge of muscle.

The kiss breaks only when you’re both gasping for air, but even then, neither of you pulls away. You rest your head against his chest, feeling the rise and fall of his breathing, and for a moment, the world fades away. It’s just the two of you, the rest of the universe outside that door forgotten.

He presses a kiss to the top of your head, his arms wrapping around you, holding you tight as if he can’t believe you’re really here. “I thought about you every day,” he admits, his voice barely a whisper, rough with emotion. “I couldn’t stop. I tried. But nothing... nothing feels right without you.”

Your heart clenches at his words, and you pull back just enough to meet his eyes, your hands cupping his face. “I know,” you whisper back, your voice soft but steady. “Me too.”

He kisses you again, slower this time, like he’s savoring every second, every inch of you. It’s not just about need anymore—it’s about the connection, about being with the one person who feels like home. You don’t need to speak; the way his hands hold you, the way his lips move against yours, says it all.

Looks like River might need to hold off a bit longer before she gets to see her dad again.

[madamspellmans-met-tet]

How Eve Best’s acting broke my heart—again.

We need to talk.

This entire scene already had me tearing up simply because of Rhaenys’ expressions.

First, Rhaenys walks up to the docks, tense, a stern look on her face. She corrects Alyn about her title, taking back control. She’s known for a long time about Corlys’ indiscretion, but this is the first time she’s confronted with it, face to face. She needs to see for herself.

Alyn struggles to meet her eye whereas Rhaenys keeps studying him as if it could help her understand. She’s had time to process her husband’s betrayal, but the scar still itches when irritated. She still doesn’t understand why, because he is so devoted to her. Their love is and always has been strong, so how could he have done it?

Then the hand to the cheek, a tender gesture. Assessing, yes, but we’ve only seen her do this with Baela and Rhaena before—which is why this was so incredibly meaningful to me.

It’s almost as if she accepts him as her own. He’s Corlys’ child, she sees him in Alyn, and she knows he’s innocent. And if Rhaenys is anything, then protective of her children/grandchildren.

“Your mother must’ve been very beautiful.”

Her husband’s betrayal made her question her own appearance; if she wasn’t comely enough anymore. If she was too old, too worn. Considering the love they shared, the only explanation for his affair was that the other woman was more beautiful than her, so much that he couldn’t resist, that he stopped thinking about her if only for a moment.

The little gulp, the sadness in her eyes. But there’s no blame, no resentment towards Alyn. And that’s what I so deeply admire about Rhaenys. She has so much self control in the face of the greatest pain that she can still see sense, can tell right from wrong. She could’ve lashed out at Alyn, could’ve asked Corlys to banish him from her sight, but instead she stands up for him.

It’s one of Rhaenys’ defining traits: compassion.

All throughout this scene, her eyes carry so much hurt. Like she’s dying inside. Eve said, “her heart [was] bleeding.” And it’s so visible.

Corlys comes into the picture. He dances around it, not wishing to bring further pain upon his wife, who he is already desperately trying to win back after his absence, even going to war just to prove his loyalty and devotion to her.

But Rhaenys is clear. She knows. Her eyes glaze with tears and Corlys can’t stand seeing it, averts his gaze, gets defensive when Rhaenys demands Alyn should be honoured for his deeds despite his origins, despite her pride.

It would bring shame on her, but she is willing to take it.

She stands by her husband.

But Corlys loathes himself for what he has done and changes the topic, almost attacking her with, “Is that why you came? To subject me to an inquisition?”

Rhaenys is shattered when she leaves, not necessarily because of Alyn and the confrontation, but because she feels like everything she’s held on to so tightly, through all the pain and loss, is slipping through her fingers. She’s coming undone, falling apart. She’s lost so much, and she’s feeling like she’s losing her husband, her marriage, too, despite the love they share.

Corlys looks after her with his lost puppy eyes, feeling helpless. How can I fix this?

that was my rambling for today. still processing. rest in peace, my queen.

[gay-dorito-dust]

Doing Bills make-up or Bill doing the Reader's make-up prompt please? Since the book of Bill said he wears mascara and eyeliner

I don’t know shit about makeup and this fic will only probably prove that 🤣

‘Is it really necessary for you to be so close to my face?’ You asked.

Bill sighed as the hand holding the mascara brush dropped to his side. ‘Who was the one who asked for help with their mascara?’

‘Me.’ You replied.

‘Yes you did.’ Bill said while pointing at you with the mascara brush, ‘now are you going to let me get back to work or are you going to complain and pull away again, my time is precious to me you know.’

You raised your hands in defeat in hopes it would appease Bill. ‘Alright, alright I’m sorry I won’t pull away again, it’s just that you hold that thing as though you’re going to poke my eye out.’ You defended yourself as you forced yourself to relax as Bill hovered close to your face with mascara brush in his little hands.

‘If you keep moving away from me then I might as well poke your eye out, twerp.’ Bill replied almost playfully but you knew that he would indeed do just that, and so you forced yourself to remain as still as you could while Bill focused all of his energy into giving you the perfect mascara look.

‘Is that a threat or a promise?’ You asked.

Bill shrugs. ‘Depends on my mood.’

‘Well that’s comforting.’ You muttered as bill stops and points the mascara brush at you once again. It was funny to see a floating triangle no bigger then your hand -maybe a little bigger- threaten you with a mascara brush, but you’ve nearly poked your eye out a couple of times when doing your own mascara so you knew that pain all to well and didn’t want to experience it again.

‘You done tempting me human because this’ll be your last chance to behave yourself unless you want busted looking eyelashes.’ Bill warms but doesn’t wait for your answer to continue his work.

You didn’t even ask him to help with your makeup, not even once. He just appeared in your bathroom while you were doing your makeup, made you poke yourself in the eye from fright while chastising you and your adequate makeup techniques.

‘Who you trying to impress? A raccoon? Are you humans really this helpless that you can’t do something as simple as mascara or eyeliner? Pfff. Pathetic.’ He says as he looks at you in the mirror with obvious judgment.

‘Hey! I think it looks okay!’ You defended yourself as Bill only looks you unamused.

‘For an ammeter.’ He replied and you couldn’t help but feel that your pride has been wounded and therefore become a little agitated.

‘Oh yeah? And you do?’ You said sarcastically.

‘Yeah, how do you think I get my eyelashes to look like this?’ Bill retorted, ‘don’t believe me? Take a closer look!’ You then leaned in close towards bill only to find out that the little triangle was in fact wearing eyeliner and mascara. It was good, so good in fact that you’d thought it was all natural, no makeup required but apparently the dream demon was somewhat of a professional when it came to making sure his eyelashes looked good.

Needless to say you were jealous.

Which lead you to where you were now, sat in a chair Bill conjured as he did your mascara for you and all without a snide comment too, which told you that he was incredibly focused.

In the end your eyelashes looked fantastic and everyone was asking how you got them like that but you pressed a finger to your lips and said. ‘A great magician never reveals his secrets.’ Before looking over your shoulder at Bill, who was doing his own eyeliner with a fucking large ass kitchen knife. He stopped to wave his little hand at you but his eye was glued to the mirror in front of him.

You were glad you only asked him help on mascara and not eyeliner…

[mypimpademia]

— You Look Good Baby

Bakugo x Black! Fem! Reader

Synopsis: Your boyfriend is your biggest hype man, and takes more pride in you than he does himself.

TW: Swearing

⇶ When you’re dating the Katsuki Bakugo, rest assured that he will make it his personal mission that you have just as much confidence as him, if not more

⇶ There will simply be no room for insecurities in your relationship when he has enough confidence for the both of you

⇶ Contrary to what most people think, Katsuki holds you in a much higher regard than himself

⇶ If there is anything he worships besides himself, it’s the ground you walk on

⇶ He hardly even calls you by your name, only ever “beautiful,” “gorgeous,” “angel,” “dollface,” and the occasional “sexy.”

⇶ Does nothing but compliment you, even doing so silently, with the way he ogles you making your heart stop in the best way possible

“K, c’mere and look at this dress real quick,” you call out to your husband as you twist to and fro in front of your mirror.

While your boyfriend isn’t the best in his personal clothing choices, or at least he wasn’t before you got together, he’s shockingly the best person to ask for clothing advice.

“Should I return this and just wear my other dress to the party? I don’t like the way it fits me,” you asked him as you spun around to face him.

If you didn’t know any better, you would say the look he gave you was one of disgust.

“The fuck are you talkin’ about? You look incredible,” he snarls.

Spinning you by your waist in the mirror with one hand, he uses his other to make your gaze meet your reflection.

“What’s not to like when you’re so damn perfect, huh?” Katsuki asks, while pressing kisses on your jaw and down to your collarbone.

Between kisses, he tells you everything he loves about how the dress looks on you while his fingers dance in the curls at the base of your neck. How the color makes your skin glow, how it fits your body so well, how you make the dress look good and not the other way around.

You can only whine in response, letting his words combat all the negative thoughts you had before.

“You look good baby, don’t worry your pretty little head,” he assures you, placing one final kiss on your lips.

“Thank you ‘Suki,” you huff in a bated breath.

“Don’t say thank you, say I know.”

⇶ If you didn’t already have a big head before dating Katsuki, you will after.

⇶ If he weren’t your boyfriend, his behavior wouldn’t be something you’d expect from him in a romantic relationship

⇶ Somehow manages to use his massive ego to build yours

⇶ He’ll always take a compliment from you, hell, he takes compliments from anyone, but coming from anyone else he only ever answers with some form of “I know.”

⇶ But when it comes from you, he always flips it back on you

⇶ You call him pretty, but he’ll always remind you that you’re prettier

⇶ You tell him he smells good and he’ll tell you that he’s ready to eat you up

⇶ You like his new shirt, but whatever you have on is better. You could be naked and it’d still be better.

⇶ When you’re dating someone as great as Katsuki Bakugo, it’s hard not to get a big head when you’re somehow always better than the “best person to ever exist,” (his words)

⇶ Shows you off in public, almost parading you around in front of paparazzi and at large events

⇶ And even on the rare instances that you’re not dangling off his arm, the only time he interacts with interviewers is when he gets the chance to talk about you

Katsuki had barely even walked halfway on the red carpet before getting annoyed.

The endless noise of press hounding him with questions, the bright flashes of cameras, and hands that have been god knows where reaching over the barrier, attempting to touch him.

He’s never been one to care much about his public appearances, and eventually stopped caring to answering questions as they almost never interested him.

But there was always a certain topic he couldn’t help but indulge in.

“Dynamight! Y/n hasn’t been with you at your last few events, fans are dying to know— have the two of you split?” An interviewer asked.

The crowd erupted into chatter and gossip at the question. From shocked gasps to fan girls hoping they’re getting their chance, Katsuki could do nothing more than roll his eyes.

As much as he hated to entertain such a nonsensical question, how could he pass up the opportunity to talk about you? And even worse, how could he let them think you were anything less than together?

“Split?” He chuckled. “Far from it. The wife’s at home watchin’, she just wasn’t feelin’ it tonight.”

⇶ Regardless of how long you’ve actually been together, you’ve always been and always will be Katsuki’s wife

⇶ He does plan to actually marry you one day, of course, but ever since you first got together you were as good as married

⇶ He’s instilled it so heavily that even the public forgets the two of you aren’t actually married

⇶ You can’t even count the amount of times you’ve seen “Pro Hero Dynamight’s Wife” in headlines to refer to you

⇶ And of course there’s the occasional, ‘Y/n Bakugo’ that will be written into articles as your attribution

⇶ While they often get changed by the publishers for credibility and accuracy purposes, Katsuki can’t help but relish in the thought of the day that you take his last name

“‘Y/n Bakugo Steals Spotlight From Hero Husband Dynamight in Custom Versace Dress at the Annual Hero Gala,’” you read out to Katsuki, who sits next to you on the couch.

“S’not really stealin’ spotlight if it was always on you,” he chimes, looking over to read the headline himself.

“Easy for you to say when you know everyone is there for you,” you said, playfully pouting your glossy lips.

“Yeah right, meanwhile it’s your name plastered on the headline,” he retorted, pressing a kiss to the corner of your mouth.

“Well technically it’s not my name,” you corrected.

Katsuki pulled back from you, as if you’d just slapped him or done something in the highest offense.

“Huh? The fuck do you mean it’s not your name?” He scoffed.

“Well I’m not a Bakugo, Katsuki,” you raised an eyebrow, confused by his defensiveness.

Katsuki kissed his teeth, and sighed in blatant defeat before perking up again.

“Guess we’re gonna have to fix that, huh?” He grinned.

Effortlessly scooping you into his arms, he held you in a tight embrace, making you squeal as a he peppered kisses all over your face and neck.

“I’m just gonna have to put a fuckin’ boulder on your finger, buy you the dress of your dreams, then make sure I get you the wedding of the century, yeah? Can’t have you walkin’ around sayin’ that’s not your name,” he punctuated his words with a suffocating kiss to your mouth, making dramatic and board line gross kissing noises for effect.

“Katsuki Bakugo, you have 5 seconds to put me down ‘fore I put my hands on you!” You laughed, breathlessly pulling away from the kiss.

“Or what, Y/n Bakugo?” Placing a rough kiss to your cheek. “That sounds good doesn’t it? Y/n Bakugo. Wonder how our kids’ names would s—”

“Katsuki!”

⇶ If Katsuki could get paid to take pride in you, he wouldn’t even need to do hero work anymore

—

Taglist: @megurulvr @zairene @planetlunaa @rynfiles @szaplsdropthealbum @dreampurpledreams @goldenglow149 @gender-queery @roaringlion @cosmiles @tatiquichi @snowsammi @lillizxzz @strawhatkia @nikorubakugou @ruubric @justadekusimp @lokalblackie @strwbskitkat @blkluci @sansfangirl24

Send in an ask or DM me to be added to all taglists, or fill out my form to be added to select ones.

—

Thank you for reading, follow for more! Comments and reblogs are heavily appreciated!