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talaok · 2 months

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Love your writing! Could we please do a cute pregnant reader x Pedro going to and at the SAG awards in honour of our boy winning! 🤍🙏🏼

Pairing: Pedro Pascal x pregnant!reader

a/n: this is how i found out he won btw. I'm so happy for him i cant even, I just love that fucking guy gosh ahhhh (as always this request skipped the line bc it wouldnt make sense in a month)

Gif credits: @tessas-thompson

"thank you" you told him as he emerged from underneath your bump after having slipped your shoes on for you.

Turns out that when you're 7 months and a half pregnant, the most basic tasks like putting on shoes become a two person job.

He only smiled, kissing your belly and then your lips before standing up, offering you a hand to do the same.

"Heels would have looked much better with this dress" you pouted, studying yourself in the mirror,

You hated ballerinas, but again, you weren't really in the condition to wear anything else.

"You look stunning sugar" he promised, kissing the crown of your head

You couldn't help but snort.

As much as he told you so over and over, together with everyone else in your life... you still struggled to see it, especially now in this uncomfortable dress.

"I look like a stuffed turkey" you sighed "and my boobs are so much bigger than when I first tried this dress, now they look a move away from spilling out"

His eyes twinkled with kindness, with love as he placed his hands on your waist and turned you towards him, away from your reflection.

"You're beautiful sweetheart" he promised, one hand now stroking your cheek as your own hands went to his waist "You're sexy and gorgeous and so fucking hot that if Coco wasn't still here I would demonstrate just how much right here right now" he growled, not giving you time to answer before he kissed you, soft at first, and then once you whimpered, it was like a switch turned and he was fiery and passionate and his left hand trailed to your ass and-

"Pedro!" you scolded him quietly, eyeing Coco on the other side of the room.

"she's seen worse"

She had.

Nonetheless, he took a step back, returning his hand to your waist.

"Thank you" you murmured, looking up into his hazel eyes "and by they way, you look very beautiful too"

You could have sworn you saw red staining his cheeks

"thank you baby"

You adjusted his shirt, as you got lost in your own mind.

There he was, you beautiful, talented, Emmy, golden globe and SAG award nominated husband, looking every bit as perfect as ever.

And just like that, tears pooled in your eyes

"what's wrong?" he asked, worried

"I just-" you sniffled, trying to fight the tears as your lips trembled "I-I'm so proud of you"

"aw sweetheart" he cooed, half laughing as he wrapped you into his arms.

He'd gotten used to it now, taking care of your over-emotional self was part of his daily routine.

"Y-you just" you cried "you worked so hard a-" another quiet sob "and n- now you're finally getting the recognition you deserve I-"

"I know baby, I know" he cooed, softly kissing the top of your head "thank you" he smiled, his fingers drawing soothing circles on your back "It means a lot to me too,"

"I love you" you murmured, finally raising your head to look at him

"I love you too honey" he kissed you, laughing softly as he pulled back to see tears still running down your cheeks "You're gonna cry the whole night, aren't you?"

"I made the makeup artist use only waterproof products" was your way of saying yes, yes I'm going to, and yes I've already planned ahead

He chuckled, kissing your forehead as his hands trailed to your bump, soft kicks hitting his palms.

"She's excited" he murmured

"She's proud of her daddy too"

__ __ __

Pedro Pascal.

Pedro P-

Your husband. they had called your husband.

It was probably comical from the outside, seeing the shock on both your faces as you stared blankly at each other, the way your mouth gaped open, while he slapped a hand onto his, it was like- it was like time had stopped, and the word went completely quiet, until- until-

"oh my god" you breathed, throwing your arms around him and hugging him so tight it probably hurt

He didn't dare speak a word as you leaned away, landing a kiss on his mouth as you gripped his face

"go" you laughed, grinning like an idiot as tears glimmered into your eyes "go" you urged again, this time, having him comply.

You watched every step, every move, until he was right in front of the microphone, his award in his hands.

"This is umh" he mumbled "This is wrong for a number of reasons-"

he was in shock, his voice trembling, his eyes watery, but he kept going

"b-but thank you hbo, Bella Ramsey, Craig Mazin, Neil Drukman, Frannie, and -" A shaky sigh fled his mouth, as he chuckled to himself "jeez louise I'm making a fool of myself and my wife is gonna make so much fun of me for it and-"

All the sudden his eyes were on you,

"my wife" he smiled, his smile brighter than the sun "I wanna thank my beautiful, amazing, intelligent, and perfect wife" he said "I love you y/n, I love you and our daughter more than anything in this world and if I'm here today- If I'm here today is mostly because of you"

You were shaking from how hard you were crying, from how happy, ecstatic, and euphoric you were for him.

"You've made me the happiest man on this earth, you've made me a dad, you- you're my everything sweetheart" he beamed "so thank you"

He stopped a moment, as if realizing only now this had all really happened

"And now I'm gonna stop talking 'cause I need to get down there to kiss you and try to make you stop crying" he laughed, ending his speech

"thank you, everybody, really, thank you"

__ __ __

He did exactly as he said,

he held you tight as he kissed you like the world was gonna end tomorrow, like if he didn't he was gonna die

And when he leaned away- when he leaned away time stopped once again, but as he pressed his forehead to yours, as you lost yourself in each other's eyes, you remembered

"You said it was wrong" you said, both your hands holding his face "but it's not" you shook your head, watching his eyes water "you deserve this baby, you do"

"sweetheart-"

"no" you shut him off, your voice hoarse from the sobs, but it didn't matter, you wanted him to know, you needed him to know "No I need you to understand that you do baby" You smiled "that you worked your ass off and that you deserve every single inch of this award" you took a deep breath, steadying your voice as you looked at him, so many unspoken words traveling between you

"ok?" you asked, finally

"ok" he beamed, kissing you again "God I love you so much"

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missyorkswhore · 2 months

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Ladies and gentlemen... The winner Pedro Pascal!

#pedro pascal #pedrohub #pedropascaledit #pascalispunk #jose pedro balmaceda pascal #pedro pascal fandom #pedro x reader #pedro pascal character fanfic #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal x reader #sag awards 2024

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pedropascal-wife1 · 2 months

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Everyone Pedro pascal has confirmed that he is our boyfriend 🤭🤭

(He is ours everyone)

#pedropascal

#pedropascalismyboyfriend

#pedro pascal #pedro pascal x y/n #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal imagine #pedro pascal x oc #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal moodboard #joel miller #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal award #pedropascal boyfriend #Pedro pascal wife #ppascaldaily #ppascaledit

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hender-ka · 2 months

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Idk why, but this is so Bridgerton/Pride and Prejudice coded. Now nothing can stop me from writing this story about a single and grumpy lord, bye

(edit: the reader will be curvy, bye)

#pedro pascal #joel miller #delulu #pedro pascal tlou #sag awards #bridgerton #lord #javier peña #fake scenarios #stories #fanfiction #pedro pascal characters #joel miller x reader #anthony bridgerton #bridgerton netflix #pride and prejudice #mr darcy #pride and predjudice 2005 #lets go mr Darcy

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eldritch-thrumming · 1 year

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imagine: it’s been years since Steve and Eddie have seen each other. Eddie is still in contact with the kids, with Robin and Nancy and even Jonathan and Argyle, but he and Steve have kind of fallen out of touch. Steve buys every magazine that features Eddie, has a stack of Eddie’s tapes by his stereo, watches every televised award ceremony. He’s being supportive in the only ways he knows how. He had thought, back in 1986, that maybe they could have been something great, but he and Eddie had missed each other. That’s okay. It’s fine.

Steve’s okay, following Eddie’s career from afar. He’s got his own life to think about, his students and coaching and dating the various men and women his coworkers try to set him up with. It’s fine.

The Grammys are this weekend and Steve’s carved out his Sunday evening to watch the ceremony. Eddie’s third studio album is nominated for a whole slew of awards and fans have been gobbling up all the hints of who the album could be about. Eddie isn’t known for his love songs, but this new album consists of quite a few torch songs and ballads, each one more heartbreaking than the last. Steve’s been listening to the album on repeat for the past few weeks, imagining a world that maybe could have been if he’d been ready for it ten years ago. But he hadn’t been. He knows he hadn’t been.

On Sunday night, Steve pops some popcorn and parks himself on the couch in front of his ancient TV. He settles in as the red carpet coverage starts. He watches as Madonna and Prince and Michael Jackson arrive. He watches as Bruce Springsteen and Celine Dion and Shania Twain are interviewed by entertainment reporters.

And then Eddie appears, stepping out of his car and holding out his hand for his date to climb out after him, some actor that had just had a film premier at the Venice Film Festival. They make a good couple, handsome and clearly in love judging by the way they look at each other, the secret smiles they share when they think no one is looking. Steve tries not to take it personally, knows he has no right. It’s been years since he’s even seen Eddie in the flesh, even longer since they’ve had any meaningful sort of conversation. Fans have been speculating about this new relationship, theorizing that this is who Eddie’s love songs are all about. Watching them together, Steve thinks they’re probably right.

Halfway through the ceremony, Eddie wins the award for Best Metal Performance. Steve can’t help the smile that spreads across his lips, practically threatening to split his face in two. He watches, enraptured, as Eddie storms onto the stage, smile blinding. Steve practically holds his breath as he watches Eddie clutch the trophy in his shaking hands and stand close to the mic. He has to bend slightly and Steve’s smile grows even wider as Eddie thanks Wayne and the Party, all of them, before thanking his managers and agents and producers. Then Steve watches as Eddie takes a deep breath. The camera cuts to the crowd, closing in on Eddie’s date who watches from his seat, glassy eyes reflecting the stage lights and dopey smile on his face. Steve’s own smile falls just a little until the camera cuts back to Eddie.

“And to the man who’s inspired every song on this album,” Eddie smiles again, bright and blinding, holding his trophy up towards his date. “Stevie baby, thank you, darling.”

Steve’s face falls. Something in his chest tightens. There’s a grumbling from the crowd on screen and the camera zooms in on Eddie’s face as he seems to realize what he’s said. That he’s said the wrong name. Because that’s not his date’s name, it’s not even close. Eddie looks surprised at his own words but the camera cuts from him to where his date sits in the crowd, smile still plastered to his tanned and handsome face, clearly forced. The crowd starts clapping as the music starts to play and the presenters help usher Eddie backstage.

Steve can’t breathe. He can’t take his eyes off the screen, even though Eddie’s not there anymore. He feels rooted to the spot he’s made for himself on his couch. There’s a rushing in his ears.

He’s vaguely aware of his phone as it starts to ring in the kitchen.

when i got into the accident, the sight that flashed before me was your face. but when i stepped up to the podium, i think that i forgot to say your name. i’m on a bench in coney island wondering where did my baby go? the fast times, the bright lights, the merry-go. sorry for not making you my centerfold, over and over.

part two

#Coney Island inspired steddie #Eddie in a PR relationship he would eat that shit up fr fr he would love it #best metal performance was only awarded in 1989 but this is in the late 90s pls trust me #steddie #steddie fic #steve harrington #eddie munson #steddie fanfic #steddie fanfiction #Taylor inspired steddie #i wrote this on my phone pls forgive me

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tasty-ribz · 1 year

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Primo: should we help our rat boy?

Secondo: Let me enjoy the view for a little longer...

Since he won the grammys, every single fight we have ends up with him yelling "I'm better anyway" and torturing me with his kazoo-Square Hammer cover

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finelinevogue · 1 year

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in this world, it’s just us

summary - you and harry attend the Brits, drink a little and love each other a lot

warnings: alcohol consumption, swearing, pregnancy talk?!, tears of joy

word count: +4.3k

pairing: famous!reader x harry

“Y/N, babe? Jeff needs us to– Woah!”

Harry entered the bedroom where you were getting ready. You were surrounded by Harry’s hair and make-up team whilst you got dressed for the Brit Awards tonight.

You blushed a smile as Harry’s jaw dropped a little and put a hand over his heart, as if you’d just punctured him there.

“What?” You asked, pretending like you didn’t know you’d just given him a minor heart attack with how good you looked - because you did look amazing.

“You… Just wow, lovie.” He smiled.

“Wow to you too.” You replied, allowing him to come and give you a quick chaste kiss. He didn’t want to get told off for ruining your makeup yet, but later on in the evening there was going to be no stopping his flirtatious self all over you.

“Y’going to the Brits like that, hun?” Bella, a make-up specialist, asked Harry as she pointed to his displayed abs.

“If m’wife lets me? Yeah.” Harry posed with his hands on his hips, making people whistle in admiration for him. Harry blushed and awkwardly laughed then, getting shy over the attention he was being given.

“Well, as much as I love your body I do love the suit as a complete look.” You explained.

“Y’love my body do you?” He raised his eyebrows and gave you a flirtatious look.

“Of course that’s all you took from what I said.” You rolled your eyes and shook your head playfully. “Now go get ready before Jeff tells you off.”

“Okay, okay! Couldn’t get enough of me this morning and now you’re sending me away like I’m an expired carton of milk.”

“What even..?” Harry Lambert laughed, standing in the doorway probably looking for Harry. People in the room started laughing too, but Harry was only looking at you to gauge your reaction. He didn’t care if he made a whole room of people laugh, because it was only your reaction that meant any value to him.

So when you chuckled, he couldn’t help but chuckle too because he had put that smile on your face and he’d be damned if he didn’t take a minute to soak up the sunshine radiating from you.

“Baby, you know I love you but we need to hurry up.” You calmed yourself from laughing too much.

“Okay. One more kiss, though?”

Of course you instantly nodded, bringing Harry in for a few more kisses than just the one. He repeatedly kissed you, until he knew that you’d got the memo that he loved you very much.

“Did I mention y’look beautiful?” He whispered against your lips and it made the people around you swoon over how perfectly he treated you. If only everyone had a Harry in their lives.

“Mhm.” You nodded, still in post-bliss from his kisses.

After a few more kisses and a stern shout from Harry Lambert, for Harry to come and finish getting ready, Harry was out of the room and you were back to getting ready yourself. Bella re-touched-up your lipstick and Kenna fastened the straps on your heels for you. Before you knew it, you were completely glammed up and ready to go to the Brits.

“That man’s love for you is unconditional.” Bella made heart eyes after your interaction with Harry.

“I like to think so, yeah.” You chuckled, walking across the room to collect your purse and start breaking in your heels.

“The man on the moon could see his heart beating for you, Y/N, seriously.” Kenna added.

You stood in front of the floor-length mirror and straightened out all the tiny creases in your dress. It was a gorgeous black dress, to match Harry’s black suit. You had never been too confident with your body’s shape, however with the warm embrace of Harry’s love you had come to learn to love yourself too. Tonight was a tribute to how much you’d fallen in love with your body.

“Yeah. I mean, I wish my fiancè looked at me like that.” Bella sighed. “Did Harry fall in love with you more after he married you?”

“I can’t speak for him but…” You started.

“Yeah.” Harry stood behind you and you viewed his outfit through the mirror. He looked absolutely incredible. “I fucking did.”

“Ugh.” Harry Lambert gagged over how romantic the room had just gotten. “You’re disgusting.”

You turned around as Harry walked towards you. You held out a hand for him to hold and you felt the cool of his rings burn your skin before his skin did. You hummed in delight as he interlinked his fingers through yours, tilting your head up to give him access to your lips once more. The strand of hair that dangled over Harry’s forehead had you in a chokehold and you delicately reached up to play with it.

“You look so pretty.” You smiled up at him, him smiling down at you.

Neither of you had started on the drinks yet, but the way that Harry’s eyes were glossed over slightly could have fooled anyone into thinking he was drunk. Turns out that’s just what Harry’s eyes do when he looks at the people he loves.

“Alright, before you two start mauling each other’s faces off, I want photos.” Harry Lambert ordered, pushing Harry’s shoulder lightly to get him to snap out of his focused daze on you.

Harry moved around you so that he was standing slightly behind you. His arm firmly wrapped around your waist and your hand rested over his hand that laid there. Your head slightly tilted into Harry’s chest, whilst Harry’s rested on top of yours. You knew these photos would become Harry’s newest home screen, because he always wanted the most up-to-date photo of you both to admire.

You swapped between a few poses, before Harry Lambert was satisfied and left everyone to do their final checks before leaving.

You pulled Harry back in front of the mirror and pulled out your phone to take a few photos with him, both his arms slinking over your shoulders and leaning his head down to be closer to yours. The photos were sickeningly cute. Only you could convince Harry to take a mirror selfie.

Harry kissed your cheek before saying, “Right. I’m going to go meet the driver and then we are ready to head out, yes?”

“Yes.”

••••

On the red carpet you and Harry stood separately, because Jeff wanted Harry to get some solo photos.

You had been taking photos together for a little while, posing next to each other and sending the media into a frenzy when Harry kissed you.

It wasn’t your first red carpet appearance together, but you and Harry did enjoy keeping your relationship as closed off to the public as possible. It was a little hard, since you were both A-list celebrities, but you made it work in the best way possible for you.

You and Harry had met each other through Tyler, Harry’s producer. You had written a few songs with Tyler before and had suggested that a song you’d written, called ‘Music For A Sushi Restaurant’, might be something that Harry would like. You’d seen him around and thought he was the kind of guy to enjoy a funky song like ‘Sushi’. You never actually expected him to feature the song on his album, let alone ask you out for a drink to talk more about songwriting together.

Harry’s House was a project close to Harry’s heart, not only because it was an album filled with such raw and emotional songs but also because you had written all of the songs with him. He had fallen in love with your style of writing so much that he didn’t want to feature a single song on his album that didn’t include you.

Thanks to Harry, Harry’s House and the hard work you both put in to writing the songs, you had both been nominated and won a Brit Award for ‘Songwriter of the Year’. You never thought you’d even be a recognised name in the music industry, let alone winning Brit Awards, and it was all thanks to Harry.

Over the course of writing Harry’s House you had taken a strong liking towards one another, until one day Harry had solidified his attraction towards you when he kissed you in the middle of writing ‘Grapejuice’ with each other.

The rest was history.

So, when you were stopped on the red carpet and asked to come a little further down to the presentation carpet you furrowed your eyebrows in compliance. You followed the usher down the carpet, hearing Harry ask Jeff, behind you, where you were going.

You stood on the presentation carpet, next to a life-size Brit award waiting for what came next. Roman Kemp came on the carpet next with a microphone.

“Oh no.. I was promised no interviews!” You blushed, covering your mouth with your hand to hide the embarrassment. You were very shy when it came to public media interaction and found that as a result you were socially awkward.

You looked around to try and spot Harry, finally noticing him behind the camera’s smiling at you. He was stood with his hands behind his back and leaning his weight onto one leg, looking like the Gucci model he always is.

“Don’t worry. No interviews.” Roman clarified, calming your nerves instantly. “We are actually here with you, Y/N, because you have won ‘Songwriter of the Year’, correct?”

“I believe so, although I still can’t comprehend why!” You laughed, blushing even harder because you weren’t sure whether that was something to even laugh over. You looked to Harry instantly and saw that he was shaking his head in disbelief that you’d just said that about yourself.

“Well, I am here to present you your award. Congratulations Y/N on winning ‘Songwriter of the Year’!” Roman cheered and then the surrounding media, camera crew and Harry’s team all cheered too. Harry whistled using his fingers in his mouth, making you drop your head in embarrassment over the attention.

Roman handed you the award and you took it graciously, thanking him kindly. You looked towards Harry, again, and watched him continue to whistle for you. You laughed and put your hand over your heart, thanking everyone you could, which was a habit that you’d picked up from Harry.

You hugged Roman briefly and then moved over towards Harry. His arms awaited for you as you happily ran over. He bent down slightly to pick you up by your lower waist, before lifting you up off the floor and swaying you from left to right. One of your arms wrapped around the back of his neck whilst the other stayed to the side holding your Brit. You giggled into his neck as he left a few dozen kisses on yours.

“I’m so fucking proud of you, y’know?” He said, kissing over your skin once more with a little more bite.

“I know.” You whispered just below his ear, kissing his tiny ear lobe then making him chuckle.

“And I really do love you.”

“I really do love you too.”

••••

The venue inside was magical.

The iconic tables were all set out and the audience were already sitting high in their seats. No doubt the fans were already recording videos of you and Harry walking to your table. Harry had invited so many people to the Brits tonight they had two tables reserved for him.

On one table was his band and other people from his record label, whilst the other was reserved for family, his management and you. Of course he was sitting on the table with you.

He held your hand tight as you weaved through the tables, turning around every so often to make sure you were alright still. At one point you spotted Jessie J and tugged on Harry’s hand to catch his attention. He raised his eyebrows to ask what was wrong.

“Jessie’s over there. I want to congratulate her on her pregnancy.” You said, tugging his hand again for him to follow you. Harry was quick to walk behind you and follow you without stepping on your dress.

“Are we sure she’s pregnant?” Harry asked. “The last time I assumed a woman was pregnant it did not go down well.”

“Yeah, I’m still not over that by the way...” You stopped short to pinch his nipple over his silk shirt. Little did you know that that one action from you would cause global fan casualties and trends on Twitter later on.

“Well, if you let me actually make you pregnant, baby, it’ll go down better when I ask.” He smirked, enjoying the feeling of you pressing up against him as you stopped. Your ass was pressed back against him and he moved in even closer to get a better feel.

“That comment just cost you drunk after-party sex.” You faked a small smile, before walking forwards a bit more, leaving Harry behind to feel sorry for himself.

You reached Jessie and congratulated her on her pregnancy, having a laugh with her. It had been a while since you’d seen each other and you both agreed you would have to start writing with each other again soon. Jessie told you to get Harry over to see her at some point in order to congratulate him on his opening performance.

Once you made it back to your table, Harry was busy talking to Rob Stringer and you assumed he wouldn’t notice you after your minor argument. You were wrong, however. Harry stood out of his chair and pulled yours back for you, all whilst keeping his conversation with Rob going. You thanked him kindly as he pushed your chair under the table for you and sat back down himself. His hand went straight to rest on the back of your chair behind you and he crossed his legs over, pointing his body towards yours. This was a silent tell to you that he was working up an apology.

Before you could start up a conversation with anyone, Harry pulled your chair closer to him which made you gasp at the sudden movement.

“What are you-”

“I’m sorry.” Harry said, kissing your cheek afterwards. “I won’t ever ask if you, or any other woman, is pregnant again. I’ll wait for you, and them, to tell me first.”

“Thank you.” You nodded and leant in to kiss him. He eagerly complied and gave you slightly more than just a peck, but enough to keep it P.G. in front of his team, family and thousands of fans. “It’s still a maybe to the sex, though.”

“I’ve got time to change it to a yes.” He smirked, before kissing your forehead and settling down as the lights went down in the arena.

The screams increased and Salma walked on the stage to present the first award. You rested your head on Harry’s shoulders, leaning into him for some extra comfort. He was happy to let you lean on him, not caring if his suit was now stained a little with makeup from your cheek.

“And the winner of Best Pop Vocal/R&B act is…” Salma paused to create tension.

“It’s gotta be you.” You whispered to him and Harry nudged you gently with his shoulder, because if there was one thing he wasn’t capable of it was taking a compliment - like most British people in fact.

“The one and only..” Salma continued, making you sit up straight and look at Harry who was trying to hide his smirk. “Harry Styles.”

“Yes!” You screamed, throwing your arms around him. He was laughing into your neck as he tugged you back tightly. You knew you couldn’t hold him for long, but when you pulled away - because Harry never pulled away from your hugs first - he kissed your cheek generously. You continued to smile as he hugged Rob and then Gemma as he walked past her.

You continued standing as he reached the podium to give his awards speech, cupping your hands over your mouth to try and hide your very obvious grin. You tried not to vigorously scream when you noticed the single strand of hair dangle over his forehead, but it was very difficult considering he looked so hot.

“Uh…” He started by saying, holding his Brit in the air graciously. “Thank you so so much for this, uh. First of all..” He turned to his fans in the seats behind him, “Thank you. Um, first of all I know this was a fan voted award, so to all my fans who voted thank you so so much.” You mentally patted yourself on the back. “It’s, uh, I have so many wonderful memories at the Brits. Thank you for another one. It is so good to be home, thank you so so much.”

You cheered and screamed like everyone else around you as he continued to thank everyone. Gemma leaned over to you, already slightly tipsy on the prosecco. “Wonder whether by ‘home’ he meant you?”

You had spent so much time away from Harry, whilst both of you were so focused on various other projects, that it had been so long since you’d seen each other. Now you were back with each other, Gemma was right, it felt like home.

As Harry made his way back to the table he had stopped off to get some shots. He had bought five and managed to spill none on his way over to his seat. He bent over next to you when he had made it back, kissing the side of your head before placing the shots on the table.

“One for you,” He said, handing it off to Jeff. “You,” to Rob, “Gem,” he passed one over to his sister, “And finally you.” He placed it in front of you.

“What’s this for?” You laughed, knowing Harry knew you hated doing shots.

“You’re taking this shot for me, okay?” He ordered, sitting back down in his chair.

“But.. What even is it?” You scoffed.

“Tequila.” Everyone groaned when he said that.

“Oh shut up, the lot of you.” He pulled a face, holding his shot up ready to cheer.

You all cheered each other's shot glasses, tapped them down on the table before knocking them back. Harry didn’t make a face after his, but you ended up coughing. It was so horrible. Harry already had a chaser in his hand ready for you and it made your heart warm that he knew you so well - or your heart could’ve just been warm from the tequila.

“Y’okay?” He laughed, just asking you. You nodded with a sour face. You had a feeling tonight was going to be a heavy one.

••••

Harry had won two more awards and had progressively got more drunk, which only meant that he had gotten more flirty and handsy with you.

He had just kissed Lewis Capaldi and made his way back over to your table after winning ‘Song of the Year’.

You were slightly drunk yourself from having a few too many drinks with Harry - especially with the tequila shots. Your eyes were slightly drowsy as Jeff talked to you.

“What are you and Harry doing tomorrow?” He asked.

“Um, breakfast at that pub we like, then I think he said he’s got meetings with you all afternoon about tour.” Your words slightly slurred together as you tried really hard to concentrate on the words you wanted to use.

“Ah, fuck the meetings. Have him to yourself tomorrow.” Jeff waffed his hand like it was no big deal.

“Oi, you two better be talking about me here.” Harry came up behind you and slunk an arm over your shoulders, kissing your head for good measure.

Harry made you sit back down and handed you a glass of water that he’d picked up along his way back to you.

“Y’feeling okay? A little tipsy, hm?” Harry asked, sitting down next to you and bringing you in closer to kiss your forehead a few times.

“I’m okay.” You said, but it sounded like it was all one word.

“Drink this, alright? For me?” Harry asked, holding the glass of water up to your lips. You took little sips, until you took too much and it started to dribble out of your mouth. Harry stopped and used his thumb to wipe up the wet mess, smiling at you for being so chaotic when drunk.

“You cheated on me.” You pouted after he’d cleaned you up.

“What?” Harry furrowed his eyebrows in confusion.

“Yeah. Y-You cheated on me with Lewis.” You hiccuped out.

“Ohh. To be fair though, you cheated on me with Rina.” Harry raised his eyebrows, smirking at you like two could play your game.

You hummed in delight and smiled when you thought about Rina, who was yours and Harry’s best friend. You’d spent copious amounts of time with her in Japan back in 2018 and you’d all quickly become really good friends.

“Guess we’re both cheaters.” You said, your eyes heavy under the influence.

“Don’t say that. Don’t like it when you say things like that. Kissing you is different to kissing anyone else. With Lewis, or-or with Nick, it’s different. Like they’re m’bestfriends and it’s just a friendly kiss. With you, though..” Harry stopped to hum and smile, “With you the whole world stops a-and m’heart feels like it’s never going to get enough. ‘Cause I love you in a way I never have, and never will, love anybody else.”

Your eyes teared up over listening to him and you leaned forwards, but stopped yourself short when a few tears started to fall. “Fuck.” You mumbled to yourself, wiping your tears away. “Dude, that was too much.” You groaned, trying to blink back any more tears.

“Hey, look at me.” Harry asked and you tilted your head to the side.

“Don’t you dare say anything more romantic. I’m not emotionally stable enough.” You chuckled.

“No. I was just going to say that I love you so much.”

You leant forwards and captured your lips with his, pressing yourself into him to give him a little more than a quick kiss. You pressed your lips deeper onto his, but pulled away before he could really get into it. Because once Harry got into it, especially when he was tipsy, there was absolutely no stopping him.

“I love you.” He repeated himself, looking hazily between your eyes and your lips with a half pout.

“I love you too.” You smiled and kissed him once more.

Then Stanley Tucci made it to the stage to present the award for ‘Album of the Year’. You and Harry settled back down, only after Harry reminded you to drink more of your water. You rolled your eyes, but listened to him nevertheless.

“And the winner for ‘Album of the Year is..” Stanley paused as he opened the card.

“Harry, Harry, Harry.” You repeatedly whispered under your breath, earning a laugh from Jeff.

“Harry Styles!” He called out and Harry went crazy, screaming and bashing the table in excitement. You rocketed onto your feet and cheered for him with every vocal chord you could strain. Gemma screamed with him and he hugged her first, making you awe at the moment. He was quick to turn around to you and pull you in for a bone crushing hug too, kissing your neck a few times.

“Have I changed it to a yes, now?” He spoke next to your ear above the deafening screams. Of course this man was thinking about his post-show shag rather than the actual award he’d just won. You laughed as he pulled back.

“Who wouldn’t want to sleep with a 4-time Brit winner?” You said and it made him smirk really hard, licking his lips quickly before he was ushered to walk to the stage. You continued to clap and scream as he walked up onto the stage, never wanting this moment to end. Harry’s time at the Grammy’s had been a lot more tense and sophisticated than this, so it was nice for him to let loose once in a while.

“Fuck.” He said away from the microphone, but it was still picked up. “Wow.” He recovered from his slip up on live television. “There’s literally no one in this world I love more than Stanley Tucci, so this means so much.” He giggled.

“Rude.” You said under your breath, but Gemma and Jeff laughed making you think you’d said that a little too loudly.

You stood tall and proud as you watched Harry um and awe over his award briefly, perhaps because he was drunk but more so because he’d won ‘Album of the Year’ at both the Grammy’s and the Brits in the same year. That must be some sort of record.

It was his final speech that made the tears restart and your heart fall in love all over again.

“This, uh, night has been really really special to me and I will never forget it. Thank you so much for the welcome home. I appreciate it so much. There is no place like home. Thank you, thank you, thank you so much. So proud to be a British artist and so proud to be here tonight celebrating British artists and British music. Thank you, thank you, thank you. Oh and I should probably mention that none of this would have been possible without my best friend and collaborator, Y/N. This is as much your award as it is mine. Honestly, I have never worked with someone more dedicated to their craft than Y/N. Y/N, you inspire me to be a better person every day and I’m so happy, and grateful, to be doing this with you. I love you. Thank you.”

#harry styles #harry styles x reader #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles x y/n #harry styles fanfic #ask finelinevogue #harry blurb #finelinevogue #harry styles concept #harry oneshot #harry styles brits #harry styles brit award #harry styles album of the year #harry styles brits 2023 #harry styles brits fic #harry styles husband #harry styles blurbs #harry styles masterlist #harry styles fluff

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moonstruckme · 5 months

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hi! i have a request, but not for a specific character, you can pick who you want to write about i just ask that it’s not about any of the stranger things characters😅 but could you write something just pure and fluffy and sweet with a plus size!reader please? there is a serious lack of just pure plus size!reader fanfics, almost all of the ones i find are smut and it makes me quite sad because i’m currently not able to read smut because of mental health reasons🥹 i just want to read something so sweet and pure and loving with a plus size!reader and her man just loving her softness and curves.

Hi sweetheart! I hope this is alright <3

Sirius Black x plus size!reader ♡ 822 words

You’re innocently reading when cold fingers try to jimmy into the crease between your thighs. You squeal. “Sirius, don’t! Shit, your fingers are freezing.”

He pouts. Even with his pretty lips and freakishly long lashes, the expression doesn’t work on you like it used to. Sirius has worn it out. “Exactly,” he whines. “They’re cold, and you’re so warm. Quit being selfish.”

“So get a blanket like a normal person,” you chide. “Don’t make your cold fingers my problem.”

Sirius scowls. “I thought my problems were your problems. Isn’t that, like, the point of a relationship?”

You lower your book to give him a look. “That’s an awfully self-serving idea of what a relationship is supposed to be, Siri.”

He huffs, reaching the whole two feet to grab the blanket you’ve strewn over the armchair. “Fine. You must have me in your thrall or something, you know that? I used to get whatever I wanted. Where did it all go so wrong?”

“Not sure.” You flip your page idly, though you’re not really reading anymore. Just baiting your boyfriend, as you are wont to do. “Maybe when you stopped trying to woo me.”

Sirius gasps, and your book is torn from your hands. He sets it on the table, and you both pretend he hasn’t done it with care, saving your page. “How dare you! I woo you every day of the week.”

“Mmm.” You try to look unimpressed, but you know he can see the smile you’re fighting. “I don’t feel very wooed when you try to use me as a human heating pad.”

SIrius’ grin comes out to play. You take that as permission to release your own. “Aw, m’sorry, lovely girl,” he croons, bending to brush his lips over the place on your thigh where his fingers had clawed for entry a minute before. “Have I not been telling you how wonderful you are often enough?”

You bite your lip against the giggle bubbling up your throat. “You could stand to do it more.”

“My pretty baby.” Sirius grips the fat of your hips, pulling himself upward to kiss you on the lips. “My sweet, darling angel, do you know how much I love you?” He moves to the corner of your mouth, your cheek, just under your eye, kiss-kiss-kissing all up and down your face.

Your giggles escape, and you break, hands touching his waist to keep him close. “I do,” you admit happily. “I love you too.”

“No, but not nearly as much as I love you.” His voice wilts with a dejection that’s entirely for show, leaning back to bat his too-long eyelashes at you pitifully. “You really have no idea, do you? You silly thing. I think I need to show you more often.”

You’re quiet, shaking with silent laughter Sirius pretends not to notice.

“I love you here,” he says, palms rubbing soothingly up and down your thighs, “but for more than just because they’re so warm. And I love you here” —his hands slide over the material of your shirt, up your waist, dipping lovingly into each rolling curve— “and here” —he follows the path to your broad shoulders, squeezing lightly before continuing upwards to cup your face— “and I love—baby, are you paying attention? This is important—I love you here.” He pecks you on the lips. “Love love love you, gorgeous. I love you here, too.” He kisses your nose, then presses his lips to your forehead. “I love you here most of all,” he says, words all mushed up against your skin. “Do you believe me now?”

“Sirius,” you say softly, face now infinitely warmer than it had been a minute ago, back when you’d been under the impression that you were the one teasing him. “Of course I believe you.”

“Good.” He gives your head one more firm kiss before backing off, giving you one of those sweetheart, earnest smiles he keeps locked away for special occasions. “It’s important that you know, you know?”

“Mhm,” you say, and his grin widens at your shyness. It takes a lot for him to make you this bashful these days, so your flush is a victory for him. “This was all a part of your grand scheme, wasn’t it?”

Sirius blinks at you. “I’m sure I don’t know what you mean.”

You stare him down for a few seconds before sighing. “Fine, you can use my legs to warm your hands.”

“Yes!” He wastes no time, worming his fingers into the soft inner part of your thighs. You tense at the cold. “I prefer not to think of it as using you. More like affection that also happens to have utility, yeah?”

“Sure.” You roll your eyes, fighting a shiver as you pick your book up from the coffee table. “It’s like you said, you get whatever you want.”

Sirius leans forward, pecking you sweetly on the lips. “You know it, babe.”

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thesesskagawards · 2 years

Text

Nominations Are Officially OPEN!

The SessKag Awards is now accepting nominations, so come on out and nominate your favorite SessKag works!

Be sure to familiarize yourself with the adjusted rules, and the previous winners of the awards, as they are not eligible for nominations in their 2021 winning categories!

All of this information is found in The SessKag Awards Info-Packet, including the link to the past winners chart (for those not part of Pink Moon Observatory), the category descriptions, and the nomination forms.

Let’s show our community some love, folks!

<3The SessKag Awards Team

#SessKagAwards2022 #Sesshomaru x Kagome #Fanfiction Awards #Fanart Awards #Inuyasha

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munsster · 2 years

Text

goddamn chest hair

A/N: i mean how can you??? not???? just go heart eyes at him all the time

Pairing: Steve Harrington x GN!Reader

Summary: This new development on Steve’s upper body is incredibly attractive and too good to be true. 1.7k words

Warnings: porn no plot tbh, smut, simping (LOSER HAHA. ha. i’m so lonely), kissing, teasing, body worship (?), licking/marking/hickeys, ch*st ha*r🤤, hair grabbing (?), unprotected sex (do not, or else), very mild insecurity

It’s Friday night, so it’s only fair that your boyfriend is underneath you on your bed, humming softly with a kiss-wrecked grin and his hands kindly fondling your bare ass. Naturally, the last time you had this kinda time alone was before the world nearly ended and some gooey, shithead monster totaled your car. Naturally, you were half naked before Steve even had the chance to shut the door. And so naturally, your boyfriend looks good enough to eat underneath you on your bed.

Only, he’s fully clothed, and both of you get a little hot and bothered ‘cause of it. He hasn’t stopped giggling for fifteen minutes—unless you count the split second he choked when you rolled your crotch against his skinny-jeans-boner. Other than that, yeah, he’s fully clothed. In fact, he’s wearing two shirts, which is ridiculous considering it’s Hawkins’ hottest summer yet.

So you dip your fingers beneath his polo and tug him upright, apparently rocketing him into action because he whips both tees onto your floor and wraps his arms around you to scoot you closer. Right up against his chest where you swear to God you feel his steadily ebbing heartbeat against your ribcage. He shivers when you rest one hand on the side of his neck and the other against his chest, sliding your thumb back and forth. And cocking an eyebrow. And looking down. At his full-on chest of rough, dark brown hair.

“Woah there, heartthrob. What’s next, the Magnum P.I. ‘stache?”

“God,” Steve whines, rolling his eyes and pressing his open palm to your bewildered face as he bounces back into your pillow with a thud. “Can you not tease me about this one thing?”

Your face scrunches into a little smile and you hold his wrist to press a wet kiss to the plump and worn skin of his hand.

“‘M not complaining, Harrington.” So he tenses when you lean down, your bright eyes flicking up to his, but he’s too busy running his hands over his face to watch you dip your tongue against the warmth of his lower belly. Barely grazing the tip of his happy trail and sucking at the awfully tender spot, leaving a soft pink bruise next to his belly button.

“I like it,” you whisper against his navel. So busy exploring the soft skin, you forget he’s completely red in the face. Embarrassed and in-love and rapidly discovering the two aren’t so different, after all. Discovering he wouldn’t have it any other way. He’s halfway to sweating himself dry, and you’ve got not a care feeling over each rib and dip and making him irrational with his own bones. He bites back a laugh and runs his fingers over your hair because he loves you.

And each of your wet bites makes him antsy and gives him a solid sense of longing once your mouth picks up. His blunt nails scrunch the hair at the back of your neck and he bucks his hips. You slip your hand up his chest and whisper simple nothings against the buzzing column of his throat.

Then you sit up with this stupidly coquettish charm and make him want to explode.

“Jesus!” Steve wheezes. You settle into his lap and lean down to nip just below his ear, leaving him starry-eyed and officially tethered right here between your thighs.

“Get a grip, Harrington, ‘s only been a couple’a months.”

He groans with his hands firm on your hips, and nevertheless smiling just a tad despite himself. “‘It’s only been a couple’a months,’ says the nympho who totally jumped me the second I walked in. Who’s gonna buy me a week’s worth of turtlenecks?”

He’s manic in all the right ways, and deep down, you both know how cute he looks riled up like this. Feathers ruffled and undeniably proud that his little speech went off without a hitch. You slide your fingerpad over the hickey above his collarbone because, goddamnit, he looks good with traces of you pinched into his skin. He could keep you in a glass jar like a fiery bug with torn wings until you molded over, and you’d be all the better for it.

“No?” he says with that cocky smirk spread across his pretty mug. His tell. That’s his hand. And God, could he still make you fold. Even with a royal flush, you’d fold, just to know you know. He’s a real handsome bluffer.

“You’d look cute in a turtleneck—”

He wants to be so mad. You’ve cursed him. Left yourself over on his body and forced him to remember, remember, remember. But he just can’t. Not when you’re so kissable looking down at him like he’s everything.

So, he sits up and kisses you. Like he’s furious, but the only fever he’s got is the one that shares your name. Keeps him on bedrest and cracks his thermometers and looks so pretty all the goddamn time. He kisses you like if you were standing, all you could do is melt into him and trust. That kind of weight is forever his to grin and bear proudly. His mouth is strong and full of fervor and secrets both shared and whispered. But he could go mute, and you’d still love him all the same.

“Selleck,” you mumble into the wet heat of his mouth, cupping the nape of his neck and tilting your head to get at him. To taste deeper into his mouth since he quit cigarettes for you. Since he let himself be boyish and ambery in the pocket of his cheeks.

“Hmm?” He pulls away, wild and messy and wiping saliva from his bottom lip.

“Steve.”

“Ah. Sure,” he mumbles, winking at you with his mouth back against the soft of yours because there’s no sweeter comfort than this. His dream of you doesn’t come close, and he almost wishes you would tease him for thinking chest hair would make him better. Prove he’s older now, responsible and man and worth something. Oh, you’d scold him for that big time between the only praises he’ll actually digest in his life.

He takes you down with him against his body against your gentle mattress, his hands undressing you while your own ruck the jeans to his knees and let him kick the denim away. And you both know, just like this, grinding down with much else but his soft, cotton boxers between could end this much sooner than intended. So when you settle both hands beside his head and move in a sly circle, he huffs out across the corner of your mouth.

His big hands bring you forward-back with his eyes fluttered shut and his mouth only open enough for you to peck his lips. Enough to tilt his jaw wider and let you in. He’s taut against you, pressing harder against your thigh with each aching grind.

“You’re killin’ me, baby,” he mumbles, eyes still shut, hands still grasping down your hips and at your thighs.

“Don’t throw a fit just yet, Selleck.”

“That’s never going away, is it?”

“Nope!”

You peck his slack chin and snake your hand back to pump his cock over the boxers. His breath hitches behind his teeth, which is why you don’t take your time slipping him into you and sliding down pretty with your back arched.

He hisses and digs his fingertips into your ass before letting out that first sigh when you lift your hips. And he wonders how he ever forgot that feeling. Good and warm and living up to his every expectation with one stroke. And if he opens his eyes now, he knows he’ll be done for because of course you’ll look beautiful and already so blissfully undone. Because one kiss can do that to you, too.

Which is why you hide your face in the crook of his neck while rolling your hips, gracing his hot skin with careful puffs of air. Until he hears your tentative ‘missed you’ and ‘sweet boy’ and ‘more than anything’ and suddenly he’s crumbling and wrapping his arms tighter around your delicate frame.

A low moan stutters out from his open mouth but he can’t be embarrassed with you breathing terms of endearment into him like life with every slow thrust. Every ‘baby’, ‘handsome’, ‘everything’, is a testament to his ego. You swell him up until he’s sure of himself and so cocky it’s a crime. Until he’s fucking up into you, sweating like mad, your hands barely able to push his hair out of his face because he’s sliding you back and forth like some self-assured stud. Well, your self-assured stud.

You paw at his chest and sit up to ride him, panting with your head back and singing butterscotch-sweet praises with the mouth of a sailor. His lifts his leg against your ass and you reach behind to grab his knee. Your brows knitting, you jolt slightly and slide down, wringing his cock while your tender muscles twitch, thighs just begging to choke his sides.

Steve sighs through his nose with a heady moan when you whine softly and flop beside him on the bed. He’s breathless and heaving and so glad there’s something stopping him from plummeting. Even if he did he’d be so satisfied knowing he’s yours over everything. You open your eyes and wipe the back of your hand at your damp forehead.

“Somebody enjoyed the space,” he simpers, holding the side of your face and pulling you in for a sweet peck. You cup his knuckles and kiss his palm, and he may never catch his breath if you keep it up. But maybe he’d be okay. After all, he’s braved worse than your pout.

“Never again, Selleck.”

“Deal.”

masterlist

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talaok · 1 month

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Okay, so I have a cute idea. Pedro and reader go to a bar and accidentally drink a little more than they wanted to, and now they are walking home together, leaning on one another and giggling the whole way. Maybe they have their first kiss or something. idk, im giving you creative freedom on the last part.

Pairing: Pedro Pascal x reader

a/n: cutest request award

that last glass of wine had had its effect

Your brain felt lighter, like the crimson liquid had relieved some of the effort from your head

Your vision was fuzzier, unfocused in that familiar way as a soft buzz flowed into your ear

The pavement ahead was still damp with rain, and some water had gotten into your shoes, but you didn't care, you didn't care as you leaned onto Pedro, onto his strong, warm arm, as you looked up at his own glossy eyes, veiled by that sheer cloak of alcohol flowing through his veins

He was still laughing at something you'd said, and you didn't even realize that you were doing the same,

You couldn't even remember what the joke was. Something about... rain or... something

"We're gonna regret this tomorrow" he said, amusement still spilling from his lips

"I'm sure you will, old man" you snorted, hiding your face into his arm to shield from his reaction

"Old man huh?" he chuckled "Is that the way to talk to your elderly?"

"oh please" you snorted, smiling up at him as he feigned offense "I'm sorry sir, that was very rude of me, please forgive me"

The corners of his mouth twitched into a soft grin

"With that smile, I don't think anyone could ever not forgive you, sweetheart"

He did that sometimes, said something sweet that made you forget all about what your lungs were made for

Once again, you shielded your heating face from him by nestling impossibly close to him, feeling his warmth seep into you

He had a body that made hell seem cold

"You're a douchba-"

but before you could speak the very kind words you were about to speak, you had taken a step and found yourself ankle-deep into something that upon closer inspection, was indeed a puddle

You had stepped into a puddle.

Your feet were drenched

You-

You burst out laughing

"oh my god- sugar" Pedro was gripping your arm, bringing you back to dry land as he stifled the need to laugh too

"I-"

You were pretty sure you were about to pee yourself from how hard you were laughing, your eyes were shut close, you had one hand on your face and one on Pedro and then-

and then your feet stopped touching the ground

"Wha-"

He had picked you up, bridal style, and all you could do was swing your arms around his neck as a reflex "what are you doing?"

"it's clear you're in no condition to walk, so I'm taking matters into my own hands"

And he said it so calmly too, like it was the most obvious thing in the word

"you're taking matters into your own hands?" you mocked, cocking a brow as you bit your bottom lip to try not to laugh

"I am" he nodded,

"You're gonna carry me all the way to the hotel?" you couldn't help but smile now,

smile with amusement and joy and drunkness and... and something else

"What, you think I'm too old for that too?"

You snorted now, your head falling to his chest

"maybe" you mumbled, your mouth on his steel pecs as you looked up at him

And there was something in that, in all this- not in the fact that he was carrying you like a damsel in distress, not the fact that you were dizzy, not in any of that- there was something in the intimacy of this moment, of the lightness that came with it, how natural it all felt, how... perfect it felt

And he felt it too, you could see in his eyes, that he too had felt time stop, the entire world stop to let you have this moment, this precious instant

"y/n-"

But your lips were already on his, your lips were already on his and nothing mattered anymore as he gripped your shoulder to push you incredibly closer to him, wishing he could engulf you and never let you go, praying for this moment to never end

finally

the only word inside both your heads

finally

He was such a good kisser, his mouth, his beard, his lips, his everything just-

The problem was that he thought the same about you, and maybe if you'd been less of a good kisser, or if only he hadn't spent the last six months fantasizing about this... then maybe he wouldn't have dropped you

"shit-"

Well not really dropped you, he just... forgot to hold your legs, that's all

Only of course, he was there to rescue you as your feet hit the ground, making sure you didn't fall

A soft, honest laugh rumbled from your chest as you dropped your forehead to his

"I'm sorry" he murmured, his hands on your waist "I- I got- distracted"

Again, you could only laugh, this time as he joined

"you got distracted?"

"Yeah" he chuckled

"wanna get distracted again?" you smirked, watching his eyes pan to your lips

"please"

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