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#real person x reader
haddonfieldwhore · 4 months
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offline - vince dunn
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streamer!vince dunn x reader
summary: everyone in vince’s chat thinks he’s in love with you, which makes hiding your relationship interesting
warnings: a few uses of y/n, i think that’s it. not too proud of this one
word count: 0.9k
“bluepanda2, thank you for the 5 gift subs,” you heard vince say into his microphone as you passed by his streaming room. he had been on for nearly 4 hours already, and while you were used to the long streams he did by now, nearly six months into your relationship, you did still get impatient waiting for his attention sometimes. you had been friends with vince for a few years, having met through a mutual friend and staying in touch via text, until one day he gained the courage to ask you out, and here you were now. knowing the stress that the public eye could put a lot of stress on a new relationship, you had both decided it would be best to keep your romance a secret, at least for the first little while. months had gone by and some people were suspicious, and some people just wanted it to happen from the few times you had appeared on or been mentioned in streams.
you didn’t always watch his streams, honestly not having the time to some days, and also feeling like you were spying on him sometimes when you did. but tonight you found yourself missing the man who was just up the stairs from you, and curled up on the couch in his living room with the stream pulled up on your phone.
“guys i’m gonna wrap things up soon. i have a friend coming over so i have to hop off early tonight,” he explained.
- is it y/n?
- i bet it’s y/n
- ^^ i wish they would stream together again
“maybe one day y/n will come over and come on the stream again. i’ll ask them.” vince smiled, reading the chat.
- he’s blushing!!!
- dunner is in love <3
- //youtube link - vince simping compilation//
- are you two dating yet?
- ^^ they’re just friends
- ^^ sure they are lol
"chat, i need you to stop linking clips about me crushing on y/n," he laughed, the crinkles by his eyes on full display, along with the dimple in his cheek that you loved so much. “we’re just friends.”
you smiled as you watched your boyfriend interact with his viewers, knowing how much they meant to him. hopefully one day soon you would be able to tell them the truth, but you both weren’t ready yet. vince wrapped up the stream, and you shut your phone off as you heard his footsteps coming down the stairs.
“hey, you’re offline early today,” you smiled as he flopped onto the couch next to you. “how was the stream today?”
“it was good. did you watch any of it?” he asked.
“i just caught the last couple minutes,” you smiled mischievously. “you know, when everyone was saying how much you love me.”
“hmmm,” he hummed, pulling you close and kissing your lips softly. “they’re right.”
“do you think we should tell them soon?” you asked, and he shrugged.
“i want to,” he ran his hand over his face. “i just know how people can be. and once it’s out there we can’t take it back, you know?”
“yeah, i get it. for now i’m happy having you all to myself,” you smiled, pulling on his arm until he laid on top of you, his head resting on his chest. your fingers ran through his curls, the soft locks slightly matted down from wearing his headset for so long.
“did you miss me or something?” he teased, and you flicked his forehead with your finger.
“yes, actually,” you pouted, and he laughed as he crawled further on top of you, his hands on either side of your head as his body hovered above yours.
“baby if you want my attention, you just have to ask,” he said sweetly, kissing you again.
“another quote that would get added to the compilation video?” you teased.
“definitely,” he smiled, and it was you that kissed him this time, hands tangling in his hair as you pulled him down. his teeth played with your bottom lip as you felt more of his weight on top of you.
“are you tired, vin?” you asked, and he nodded, laying fully on top of you now and burying his face in the crook of your neck. you giggled as he kissed your neck, his stubble tickling against your skin. “vince-“ you whined as he nipped at the skin softly, his hands on your waist, fingertips sliding just under the hem of your sweater. he only hummed in response as he left wet kisses up to your jaw. his lips finally traveled up to your again for one more kiss, before he sat up.
“i’m sorry i never pay enough attention to you,” he said, and you shook your head.
“it’s okay, i’m just being clingy,” you laughed. it honestly wasn’t an issue, there were just some nights you wanted to be close to him when you couldn’t. “maybe i could hang out with you on stream again soon, if the viewers are okay with it.”
“sure, you can tomorrow night if you want,” he said, and a devilish smile tugged at his lips.
“why are you making that face?” you asked nervously and he laughed.
“no reason,” he laughed, before pointing at your neck.
“but if you’re going to be on the stream, we’re gonna have to hide that hickey.”
prompt @novvasdreamscape
disclaimer: all screenshots, events, and/or interactions depicted in this are a work of fiction. i have no association with any parties mentioned
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avenging-fandoms · 1 year
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You have a little fight with Pedrito before you leave for the Oscars. His agent doesn’t think it’s a good idea that you go together as a couple since not many people even know that you guys are dating. So you go separately, but when Pedro sees you on the champagne carpet he can’t help himself. Secret is out 😉
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Pedro Pascal Masterlist 1
Pedro Pascal Masterlist 2
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“This is dumb, I’m going to be late because of you and I had more things to do to get ready” Pedro’s make up artist brushed powder off his face and Pedro rolled his eyes.
“I’m so sorry we all can’t be perfect, honey. Five minutes and we’ll leave” Pedro replied and you huffed, sitting on the couch.
“Actually, Y/N, your ride is here” you and Pedro look at Nicole, his agent, confused. “We feel it’s best for you two to arrive separately so the attention isn’t all on your relationship that no one knows about. There’s already speculations. If you want to keep it secret, you arrive separately”
You laugh and stand up, grabbing your clutch. “Well, at least I won’t be late anymore” your heels clicked against the ground as you walked out of his hotel room, heading down to the lobby.
On the way to the Oscars, you couldn’t help but think about the fight you had with Pedro. It felt like you were suffocating by keeping this relationship a secret, it was a year next month.
You wanted to bring it up, you wanted to say something, but it wasn’t the time or place. You wanted to tell him you were ready to tell everyone you two were together, but was he?
You wondered if his agent didn’t want him arriving with you so the attention was only on Pedro and she wanted headlines of his name instead of yours next to it.
Little too late for that.
You step out of the car and hand your clutch over, heading onto the carpet with a bright fake smile. You did your best to hide your nervousness and your anxiety as Pedro wasn’t next to you like he normally would be.
Pedro arrived about 5 minutes after you and as soon as his shoe hit the carpet, his eyes spotted you. It was this neat trick he had. Any room, any size crowd, he could always find you.
His insides burned. His mouth became dry as he stared at you looking serious on the champagne carpet, he couldn’t stop his feet from rushing over to you.
As you made your way down further your heard loud screams and the chant of your boyfriend’s name. You tried to ignore him, posing for different cameras and keeping your body turned from Pedro.
“Princesa, look at me” your body instantly turned to Pedro and he smiled, holding your hips as your hands held his biceps, the cameras happily clicking away with money signs in their eyes.
“I didn’t get to tell you before you ran out, but you look absolutely stunning” his lips kiss down your jaw and neck as his arms get tighter around your waist, dipping you a bit.
You giggle as your leg kicks back, arm around his neck with the cameramen egging you two on.
Pedro stood back up and you look at him with a smile. “What happened to keeping us a secret?”
“Fuck that, I was gonna wait until we hit a year but you look so gorgeous tonight I wanted to make sure people knew you were mine” you smile and Pedro kisses you quickly, wrapping his arms around you.
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javarium · 1 year
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Serenity | Pedro Pascal.
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Warning(s): | Female Reader, Legal Age Gap (Pedro is current age; Reader is 22+)
Note(s): Also, I really love Pedro’s hair in this gif. And his sweater. We love cozy sweaters. And him in general. Sue me lmfao. Might turn this into a series (short stories) if I feel good enough. I’m a slow-ass writer that’s for sure lmao
****
After spending almost a year apart, with nothing but simple video calls and two, one week-long surprise trip to see him in Alberta six months apart, Pedro was more than happy to be done with filming and walking through the front door of his home.
“I’m home!” he calls out into the empty expanse of the home you both share.
You don’t answer, but Baxter does.
The Continental Giant rabbit happily hops to him to greet him home, standing on his hind legs to prop his front ones on Pedro’s leg. He loves the sweet animal almost as much as he loves you.
The man chuckles and sets his bag down, running his hands and fingers behind Baxter’s ears and across the soft coat of black fur. The massive rabbit closed it’s eyes, greedily taking in the pets and rubs from his owner’s boyfriend.
“Holy shit!”
Pedro’s hands stop rubbing the giant rabbit the moment he hears your voice. Baxter, being so tuned into the emotion in the sound of your voice, gets down and hops out of your path as you rush down the stairs and right into your boyfriend’s arms. Your laughter is contagious, and Pedro laughs along with you as he twirls you around in the air like a princess.
He sets you back down on your own two feet, but his arms never leave you. Instead, they wrap around your torso and waist even tighter as he nuzzles into the crook of your neck. Pedro’s large hand cradles the back of your head, holding you steady against him. After so long being apart, being unable to cuddle or hug you, kiss you or make love to you, he was more than ready to savor his time with you, relish in your presence and the heft of your body nestled against his own.
“I missed you,” he mumbles. Pedro presses a sweet kiss on your shoulder.
“I missed you, too,” you mumble in reply.
You had missed him so much. The last year had been awful without him. You missed his warmth and cuddles. You felt… bare without him, constantly missing his touch and his warmth. After being together for as long as you have, the world felt… empty. It didn’t seem as bright without him — not as funny. Pedro’s smile always lit up the room. And while he was away, your home was dull, not as vibrant. You missed him and his jokes, his humor and his lightheartedness filling the house with jovial laughter.
“I’m never leaving home again,” he declares. You giggle as Pedro’s lips press against your cheek.
“Never?”
“Never.”
He reluctantly pulls his arms away and gives you an Eskimo kiss.
Lord, you’ve missed him so much.
“I am hungry though,” he says, hands gently grasping your biceps. “Got anything to eat?”
His stomach growled faintly, making you snort.
“What? Plane food not good enough?” you tease.
“It left much to the imagination,” he responds jokingly.
“Well, it’s not much, but there are a few bean burritos from Taco—“
“I’ll take it.”
You laugh as he barges past you and into the kitchen, Baxter eagerly hopping along, hot on his trail.
****
When midnight rolls around, he’s the one that’s awake. Even after his plane trip, he doesn’t seem to be tired. All the exhaustion and tiredness from earlier seems to have vanished.
You’re the one that’s asleep, cheek smushed against his chest. His right hand is holding your left, resting on his waist as you sleep. It was like an owner and their cat: he didn’t want to move an inch, wanting to simply watch and admire your beauty.
There wasn’t a moment Pedro didn’t miss you. Every time he’d settled into bed at night or woke up, his first thoughts were of you — of how he hated the fact you weren’t with him. Pedro missed having you next to him in bed. He missed the warmth of your arms being draped around him as you slept, tucked into his neck and snoozing away in dreamland. He missed you not-so-stealthily sneaking up on him and surprising him with back hugs.
You were such a big part of his life that he physically felt the emptiness from you not being with him.
He closed his eyes and pressed a featherlight kiss on the top of your head. He rested his cheek atop your crown, tightening his hold on you.
“…’dorable.”
Pedro snickers. “You’re awake?” He presses another kiss to your forehead.
“Gotta pee…” you mumble, digging your nose into the fabric of his sweater, not wanting to get up. “And hungry too, ‘parently.”
“Want anything specific?”
“….” You grumble. “Pizza. Totino’s.”
“The square ones on the freezer?”
“Mmhmm…”
Pedro would’ve let you lay on him longer, also not wanting to get up, but then he heard your stomach let out a loud growl. It made him snicker again. He pried you off of him gently and pulled you by your hands to your feet.
“Go to the bathroom. I’ll fix it,” he tells you.
“Fix two.” You clear your throat. “You’ll need your own.”
Sleepy as hell, you ended up being in the toilet room longer than you would’ve. By the time you came back out, the pizza was half done and Pedro had a grin on his face. He wraps his cozy-sweater arms around you and pulls you to his chest.
“Taco Bell break?”
“No…” You giggle. “Just kinda sat on the toilet until I woke up enough.”
“You do that shit way too often. What if you fall over and hit your head?”
“That’s the point. Concentration to prevent that makes me be awake.”
You stay huddled together against the island counter until the pizza finishes. The beeper makes you jump and Pedro laugh, but when he forgets the potholder and cusses, it’s your turn to laugh.
He watches as your eyes crinkle while you laugh, bending slightly to hold your stomach. Your hair falls around your cheeks, adorably accenting your face. Your laughter dies into a toothy smile, tears at the corners of your eyes. You glow. It’s not the kitchen light — the color is wrong — that shines around you. It’s something else. His eyes don’t fool him. An aura of happiness surrounds you, and Pedro swears that you’re nothing short of an angel, one that’s meant for him and him only.
He’s missed this. He’s missed you. He’s missed your laughter. He’s missed the way your eyes crinkle at the corners as you break into a fit of giggles.
“Come on, let’s eat,” you say. “I’m starving.”
“You’re always starving.”
“I know. It’s a hard knock life,” you reply in a faux depressed-like manner, making him break into laughter.
The Totino’s was pretty good. It left you warm and fuzzy and full, lulling you back into a sleepy state. Pedro’s cozy sweater you wore did nothing but add to the desire to fall asleep.
Wiping the excess cheese off into the trash with a paper towel, you put the two pizza plates next to the sink. You’d do the dishes tomorrow.
A soft grip on your bicep made you turn around. “Come on, mi amor,” he murmurs, sweetly kissing the side of your head. “Let’s get you to bed. You look very tired.”
You couldn’t argue and let your boyfriend wrap his arm around your shoulder to lead you to bed.
You looked tired enough that Pedro decided against asking you to brush your teeth, especially with the way your eyes kept shutting and your head bobbing back and forth.
He couldn’t help but wonder to himself what in the world had you done all day to make yourself so tired??
You’re asleep instantly at the moment your cheek rests on his chest, the room peaceful and quiet; the serenity of his home perfect after the noise he encountered on his way home.
Pedro’s arms wrap around you, and before he falls into slumber, he acknowledges that his life is pretty damn perfect.
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speechlessxx · 1 year
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new addition. [henry cavill x reader]
summary: anything henry does instantly goes viral.
warnings: mention of fangirls. plot twist?
word count: ~850
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It was a poor choice of words on Henry’s behalf – and he knew that.
You knew he knew that.
Ever since you’ve met him, nearly three years ago, you’ve noticed that Henry relished in the chaos he created from just one simple post. Whether it was a clip of him working out or him panting after his jog or even a simple picture of Kal, he sent the internet into a frenzy each time he broke his silence on social media. In fact, you would say he’d get off on it – but of course, he would only respond with a amused smirk and a shake of his head.
And sometimes, just sometimes, he liked to drag you into his mess.
So, when your phone dinged once, then twice, then a million times after one afternoon, you knew Henry had done something yet again.
At first, you ignored the incessant chimes of Instagram and Twitter. The colorful purple and the calm blue icons staring up at you, tauntingly as if saying, “we know something you don’t”. But this wasn’t your first time on the Henry post rollercoaster, and you opted to just turn your phone on Do Not Disturb, silencing the annoying chimes and buzzing.
But only for a few hours … until curiosity got the better of you, and you found yourself exchanging your novel for your cell phone.
You noticed that your accounts had an influx of new followers and posts had more likes and comments than usual. The culprit for this sudden popularity was a single tagged post from your beloved boyfriend.
It was a rather strange occurrence. Henry was keen on keeping your relationship as private as his career would allow. You’ve graced his stories once or twice throughout your two year long relationship, but he had never been so outright and forthcoming on his public feed.
The photograph was nowhere near risqué – which brought a bit or relief to your anxiety. It was a photograph of you curled up on Henry’s bare chest, sleeping your fatigue away. You were covered up enough with the nearly sheer night slip and Henry’s muscled arm wrapped around you. However, it was the caption that caught your eye.
“Our new addition kept her up all night.”
Your jaw dropped and eyes widened as you read that line over and over again. That cheeky little –
There were multiple “congratulations” comments beneath the post, followed by various celebratory emojis. Of course, there was a heavy amount of jealous fans’ inputs, but you considered yourself a veteran at this point – their comments became an inherent risk the moment Henry asked you out on a date.
Speculations, articles, “Baby Cavill” trended worldwide. You couldn’t help but slap a palm onto your forehead before groaning. Despite being frustrated because you were trending for such an obscure reason, you couldn’t help but find the entire situation amusing.
You came out of your shared bedroom just as he was walking into the house. Normally, you would take the time to admire your sculpted-by-the-gods boyfriend – especially after a run or a work out – but today, you wagged a finger in his face.
“You,” you said, in a mock scolding tone, “owe the world an explanation, Mr. Cavill.” Behind Henry padded in Kal, who ran to greet you, nudging your calves with his wet nose. “Your dad has gotten me into big trouble, bear.”
The dog stared up at you with big eyes but you knew that the only thought going through the Akita’s mind was, “treat?”
Henry burst out laughing as he pulled out his phone, undoubtedly reading through the mess he’s created. He seemed almost as elated as he was when he saw the reactions to his PC building video.
“Hennn,” you whined, pouting.
Before your boyfriend could respond, a high pitched bark could be heard as your new puppy ran  towards its family. Energic from his afternoon nap, the little guy jumped and pawed at you, trying to get your attention. He’d occasionally bump into Kal but the older dog didn’t pay him any mind, opting to lay down on the wooden floors, exhausted from his run with his dad.
You bent down to play with the little puppy, cooing at it and handling its tiny paws as Henry recorded.
He’d eventually post the multitude of photos and videos of you and the new puppy with the caption, “Just to clarify, we got a new puppy.” The simple caption would ease the fangirls, but the new puppy news did not stop Baby Cavill from continuing to trend.
Henry loved watching his family grow. The puppy testing Kal’s patience, but Kal proving time and time again that he is a very good boy. And you were an incredible dog mom. Going through the photos on his new post brought a smile to his face as he found himself getting lost in a day dream. He couldn’t wait to introduce an actual little one to the family (though you’d argue that the puppy was indeed your baby).
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ghost-proofbaby · 3 months
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OH SAY LESS 14 WITH ASTARION PLEASE
so this is my first time publicly writing and posting astarion, so please be gentle. higher word count solely because i felt the need to add lore because, ya know, first time writing him! also, i changed the line just a tiny bit to better fit the character and scene. ALSO, uh... this is a little fade to black. i'm sorry. it just got too long.
14. "Oh, you're hard to please."
warnings: foreplay, sorta fade to black smut (it's there if you squint your eyes), an ungodly amount of pet names, mentions of past sexual abuse and healing from it, technical game spoilers, not edited, 18+ so minors do not interact
pairings: astarion x afab!reader (no pronouns used)
wc: 4.4k+
join the smutty party! send me one of these smut dialogue prompts with a character
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How long had it been since Astarion had actually enjoyed sex? Craved it, even? 
If he recalls correctly, it had to have started to become tainted well over a century ago. Somewhere between the first and the third victim, when he’d realized how every single beautiful soul he had entrapped were simply being lured to their own death. And then, the sour taste left in his mouth only became more pungent the longer it went on, the more he came to the realization of just how used he felt. His body was no longer his own – it technically hadn’t been his from the very second he’d emerged from his own grave, and Cazador had been waiting for him – and everything about the act became an old rehearsed dance that he’d grit his teeth through. A chore, something to make his stomach churn, something to regret. A means to an end. 
Plainly put, it had been a while. 
But then you happened. You, who hadn’t blinked an eye when the first time you met him, he’d literally threatened you with a gods damned blade to your throat. You, who had repeatedly trusted him, even when it had been an objectively stupid thing to do. You, who had always offered him the utmost patience and genuine understanding, to the point in which if he thought about it too hard, he’d probably cry. You, who had led your group of misfits with brain worms right into victory, with plenty of personal demons defeated along the way. 
Personal demons including Cazador. 
Maybe that’s when things changed for Astarion. He’d already fallen for you before your group had reached Baldur’s Gate, he’d already gotten to know your body intimately before ever laying eyes on that ridiculously oversized brain you somehow made look easy to defeat. But that had been different, hadn’t it? He hadn’t really wanted to do that (not meant as an offense to you – certainly not after all was said and done), but had thought he needed to. To gain your trust, to gain your protection. And in the end, it turned out he never needed to do such a thing. You’d never said it outloud, probably at risk of making him feel even more regret after you’d learned all his secrets and darkest corners, but he knew. 
And knowing that you didn’t view him as something purely sexual, as a means to an end, as an item to use – well, it had the opposite effect of his request to no longer be viewed in that light. 
“What are you doing?” he says as he quickly looks up from his current book he’d been pursuing the moment you’d entered the room. He hardly cared for the words on the page – he just needed a way to pass the hours until you were available again. 
It was a hard habit to kick. Being so codependent on you, even with the end of the world resolved and the gift of safety being handed over to him on a silver platter. 
“We received mail,” you’re grinning wickedly as you hold up an embellished envelope, delicate fingers pinching the parchment as if it were the greatest gift to ever exist. He’d argue the real gift at hand was the last three months – time spent with you, in a place he can call home. But nothing could impede on your good mood as you throw yourself down on the mattress beside him, “From Withers, of all people!” 
His brows shoot up for just a moment before his face twists up with something akin to distrust, “Withers? What in the Hells does that sack of dust and bones wan-” 
“A reunion,” you cut him off, the look on your face warning enough against his attempt at an insult. “He’s reaching out to all of us to bring us together for a celebration, to check in on everyone, let us see each other again. Apparently, we were the easiest of the bunch to find.”
Astarion quickly lets out a tut as he snaps the book shut and discards it on the bedside table closest to him, “Well, we certainly need to fix that. Soon enough all of those little shits are going to end up on our doorstep, preaching about the power of friendship and how they want to check in on us.” 
You snort at that, laying flat on your back with your hair wildly spread out in a makeshift halo behind you. The sight causes something to stir within him, his gut twisting as he watches the way your knees knock together before slowly falling apart, your legs settling down as flat as the rest of your body.
He hadn’t taken you since that night at his grave. Before the epic final battle, before the two of you had made the decision to settle down somewhere for some well-earned peace and quiet. 
The moonlight dances past the open curtains, and his breath catches in his throat at the way the blue shadows dance across your skin. It almost reminds him of the first time he’d seen you fight. It hadn’t just been the blood splattered across your cheeks that had really gotten the better of his curiosity (even if that’s what he had told you when you asked), it had been the sunlight. Those rays of gold that had mingled with your own aura of warmth after you had helped the tieflings for the first time. 
You put the sun to shame, truly. And he missed it – Gods, did he miss it – but he was content to bask in the peace of night for a few months more before he finally cut you loose from the leash to begin your next phase of adventures to find him a cure. You had promised him you would, had already dedicated plenty of free time to research, and all you really needed was his word to begin. 
He’s selfish. The two of you can find a way for him to walk in the sun once more another day; all he wants right now is to bury himself in your warmth, to slot his body between your thighs, to hear every breathy gasp and the way you’d practically sing his name-
“Star?” you’re looking up at him from an awkward angle, eyes owlish and chin tilted painfully far back as you clearly await an answer to a question he’d been too lost in a daydream to overhear, “Did you hear me?” 
He clears his throat and adjusts the pillows behind his back, keeping him propped up as he admires you, “Of course I did, darling.” 
“Then what did I just say?”
“Something about how we’re absolutely not going to this reunion, yes?” 
Your smile is nothing but patient as you flip onto your stomach. He watches the way your shorts ride up your thighs, how the top of the soft fabric bunches at your waist. His fingers practically twitch with the need to weasel their way under it, to press his cold fingertips into warm flesh and hear you preen. 
Whenever you’re ready, you had whispered to him one night shortly after saving the world. Just tell me when, and I’m yours. 
He was ready. Insatiably ready, really. 
“Very funny. I said we should go, though. It’d be nice to see everyone again, wouldn’t it? All our friends?” 
You’re still talking about this damned reunion. Astarion has half the mind to figure out a way to summon the insufferable skeleton right here, right now, and drive a dagger into his bones until he’s truly nothing but dust. Solely for the distraction. 
“Your friends, my dear,” he corrects gently, “We both know they’re only overly fond of one of us in this relationship, and it certainly isn’t the one that they repeatedly threatened to stake.” 
The furrow of your brows is impossibly cute – he knows that look of determination. It’s the same one you wore when he mentioned it was likely that the two of you would never find a cure to his condition. 
“Our friends,” you insist, “Karlach adores you, Star. And Wyll has always been proud of you, whether he told you as much or not.”
“And what of Gale?” 
Your lips twitch at that, “Gale… certainly wouldn’t stake you on sight.”
“Ah, yes,” he flourishes, trying to keep his eyes from wandering anywhere but where your hands press into your cheeks as you prop your face up to speak to him, “Not staking me. The ultimate sign of kinship.” 
Focusing is a losing battle when you roll your eyes, and he finds his mind overtaken with insatiable lust again. Imaginative ways that he could have your eyes rolling for him under different circumstances. 
“You’re not getting out of this. They are your friends just as well as mine – so argue all you want, but we’re going to the reunion.” 
“Are you sure there’s no other way I might be able to…” he pauses with intent, finally lifting one of his docile hands to your cheek, letting his finger graze the skin with a feather light touch before it travels back into the mess of your hair, “Persuade you otherwise?” 
You almost fall for it, too. Your eyes flutter shut, your head tilts into his touch as if you were starved for the connection. But even with the lack of sexual intimacy, you both know there hasn’t been a day that has gone by in the last three months where Astarion hasn’t found a way to get his hands on you.
Holding your own, resting his cheek on your shoulder, spinning you like a child in the kitchen – he had quite the sudden arsenal of romantic gestures that didn’t involve old wounds. It had been awkward here and there, some of them landing and some of them leaving you both looking like fools, but he was trying.
Almost as hard as he was currently trying to not jump your bones. 
When you recognize the innuendo for what it is, however, you harden immediately. Your shoulders set, a frown settles, and your eyes open with set determination he knows he can’t falter without speaking plainly to you. 
“No.”
“No?”
You’re quick to lift yourself up onto your knees, putting distance between yourself and his hands, “The days of weaponizing sex are over. I don’t even want to joke about that.” 
And, oh, he’s finding himself in quite the mood tonight, because as soon as you’re retracting, he’s following. As you settle on the haunches of your calves, he’s lifting up from his reclined position, leaning forward so that his face is breaths away from yours. 
“I mean it,” you warn, narrowing your eyes and holding up a finger in that small space between you two. 
He tests his luck, wasting no time in snapping his fangs just millimeters from your skin. You both know he wouldn’t actually bite you, but it still humors him to see the way you whip your hand out of his reach. 
“Were you not the one who insisted that we ask before we bite?” you snap, and his smile only worsens. Like a cheshire cat, like a child never scorned by the world – he’s radiant and basking in the moment. 
He lets out a small hmph before saying, “You’re no fun, my dear. Come on – just play with me for a moment, won’t you?” 
Your face softens at his teasing tone, and he can see the way he’s withering away your defenses one by one. There was once a time where he’d done it with malicious intent, but this time around, it’s with nothing but good intentions. 
If you asked him, he’d go as far as to swear it on his own grave. 
“I’m sorry,” you apologize as if you’d done something wrong, and it makes more than half of his own playfulness drain from his face in absolute displeasure. Before he can so much as open his mouth to scold you about unnecessary apologies, you’re continuing on, “I just… After everything we’ve been through, it’s not something I find particularly joyous to joke about.”
What a rare thing, to have found someone to bare your soul and all your burdens to, and watch them offer to help you shoulder the weight without second thought or regret. 
He’s never met someone like you in all his years, and he might never again. 
“And if I told you I wasn’t joking?” he asks slowly, carefully, trying to choose each word with the utmost care, “I’m not weaponizing – I’m offering.” 
Whenever you’re ready. Just tell me when, and I’m yours.
He was ready. Very, desperately, sorely ready. 
The topic of the reunion is all but forgotten as you process his words, nose twitching as you decipher all that’s he laying out before you. “I want more than an offer.” 
“Excuse me?” 
He can’t help the small laugh that leaves him as he sits up properly, leaning into your space fully now with one hand pressing into the mattress just beside one of your thighs. He can feel the heat radiating from you, smell your blood rushing to your head as you try to be sensible. It’s a pitiful excuse for an internal war; all he has to do is close that conveniently small distance between your lips with his own, and you’ll have lost all sense of logic. 
“You’re…” you trail off, searching his eyes as if he holds the answer you’re currently looking for, “You’re sacred to me, Astarion. You must know that. And it will take much more than some joking offer to convince me to have sex with you when I know-”
“I’m not joking,” he’s nearly whining, letting his forehead fall forward to press to yours, “Gods, I am not joking about this. Cross my heart and hope to die again.” 
If he has to beg, he will. 
He’s spent two hundred years in an insufferable position of pure misery, pure shit, and the realization that he’s finally free has everything clicking into place. Proof of the change exists solely in the fact that he could have resorted to his tired old seduction routine from his life before to get what he wanted, but instead, he’s trying to just communicate. 
It was a novel moment. 
But he could appreciate it later, when the crotch of his pants wasn’t becoming increasingly uncomfortably tight and he wasn’t watching you closer than prey. When his stomach wasn’t so tight with desire and anticipation, just waiting for your word to indulge. 
“Do I need to beg?” he sighs, his lips brushing against yours ever so slightly from proximity. He catches the shiver that runs up your spine. “We both know I’m not particularly fond of it, but if I have to get on my knees for you- well, actually, that’s the entire point of what I’m asking.” 
You laugh at that, and his gut twists again, because it’s the most beautiful sound he’s ever had the opportunity to hear. Something more breath than any vocality, something sharp and spelling out the loss of words on your tongue. 
Your silence is enough for him to push it all a step further. Forehead still leaning against yours, he properly presses his lips to yours this time, slotting them between softer than a feather’s caress. Finding home as he can physically feel himself steal your breath away. His fangs just barely nip your bottom lip, unintentionally but still eliciting a delicious reaction of a gasp that makes him graze you a second time just to feel the way you’re leaning into him more, becoming absolute putty in his hands. Pliable for his taking, and Gods, he wants to take you. 
Something snaps. 
All hesitation has vanished as he grabs at your hips quickly, making use of the way your brain has gone blank from a simple kiss in order to lay you out below him. He moves you with ease, incredible speed in slotting himself between your legs before he’s caging your entire body in with his own. The squeak that leaves your lips from his manhandling affects him even more than your gasps had, a low growl shaking his chest as he kisses you deeper. Tasting, begging, searching – he wants this, but he needs to know that you want this just as badly. 
Your hands find purchase on each of his shoulders, squeezing tightly as if needing something to tether yourself to. You pull him in closer for a second, eagerly returning the kiss, almost feverish in the way you drink him in. But the next, you’re pushing him away, a game of want and sensibility still clouding your judgment impossibly. 
You always were stubborn about things like morals. And, well, it wasn’t very moral to just jump right into sex with your traumatized boyfriend who had explicitly said not to view him in terms of sex, was it? 
It was Astarion’s own damn fault. 
He could have just acted like a normal person, initiated a normal conversation in which he renegotiated his boundaries. But you’ve been on his mind all day, and he’s long since proven since the very day that you met him that he has little to none impulse control. 
“My, my,” he murmurs, pulling back from the kiss, eyes wild, looking at you with even more hunger than he had the first night you’d given him a taste of your blood in camp, “You’re just an impossible thing to please, aren’t you? Do you want me near, do you want me far? Tell me, my love, what do you want?” 
He settles all his weight onto one of his forearms as the other slowly brings his hand to your side, caressing over the soft fabric of your shirt – a shirt he’s quickly realizing is actually his own. He recognizes those flowy sleeves, that lacing across the chest, the off-white tone that had seen better days. Given all its wear and tear, he’s almost sure that it’s one of his shirts he had grown most comfortable wearing during the nights of your adventures against the Netherbrain. 
It’s cute. A sort of domesticity that he can ponder over later, when your legs aren’t hanging on his hips and your breaths aren’t coming out staccato as he hovers just out of reach from you. 
“I want whatever you want,” you whisper. Your eyes flutter open, looking at him with pupils so dilated they could swallow him whole. 
“Let me be very clear, then,” he hums, cold fingers creeping their way to the hem of the shirt, slipping beneath with practiced ease to find the smooth skin of your hips below. They dance and skitter up, up, up until he’s brushing against your ribs, “I want you. I want that warm cunt of yours, I want to feel every gasp and breath as your walls squeeze around me. I want to fuck you until you’re unable to walk on your own two legs, until you can only remember my name. I want to watch you come undone, my dear, and for it to be my own undoing.”
Your lips quiver in anticipation, and he feels your thighs tighten their hold on him, “Such pretty words. And… and no ulterior motives? No sense of obligation?” 
“None at all,” he smiles, a predator closing in on his prey, “I’m choosing this. If you want it, if you’ll have me, then I’m ready, pet.” 
Pet. The nickname rolls off his tongue, and he can imagine your walls fluttering just as your eyes do. 
Your hands lift from his shoulders to bury in his hair instead. One cradling the back of his head, the other resting on the nape of his neck as you toy with a snowy curl. It unfurls him further, has him humming lowly as he dips down to recapture your lips and bring you into him even closer. Closer. He needs all and any space between the two of you to become nonexistent. To feel every inch of your skin pressed to his, to allow you to physically curl up into his chest just as you had his mind all those moons ago, to make a home in a room with your name on it already somewhere between his third and fourth rib. 
“Do you really have to doubt if I’ll have you, my love?” you mutter against his mouth, smile breaking the kiss momentarily before he’s back with a vengeance. You don’t care – you’re apparently in a chatty mood, dodging his kiss to get your last words in, “There’s been a space in my heart for you since the moment I first met yo-”
“Yes, yes, very romantic,” he interrupts urgently, suddenly tugging your shirt up, “But, truth be told, love? I’m hoping there’s a space between your legs for me at this moment.” 
You snort, eyes pinched shut as you attempt to shake your head at the ridiculousness of the words that just left his mouth. At any other moment, you might point out how the outrageous comment is just another defense mechanism, veering him away from having to acknowledge the gentle sentiment behind your own words, but now’s not the time. When you open your mouth, probably to say something exactly along those lines, he rolls his hips down against yours, pinning your lower half deep into the mattress. You feel just how hard he is through his trousers – it’s impossible to miss, but he’s deliberating being sure that you feel it as he lets the tips of his fangs sink into your bottom lip. 
The resolve of fighting against his wishes is quickly dissolved. One thing after another, and Astarion has you bare beneath him before any other distractions or annoying conversation can send the two of you further off track. Your, his, shirt is tossed to one side of the room. Your parents fly to the other side of the bed. Only once he has the entire spanse of your body nude and vulnerable to him does he take the time to pause, to look down at you with absolute adoration. 
“Gods, you’re beautiful.” 
He’s said those words to you a million times before. Consistently greeting you with them, muttering them in the dead of night, whispering them as he kisses you awake. But they never lose their weight. And certainly not now, as he’s looking down at you like it’s the first time he’s ever seen that freckle on your chest or the curve of your stomach barren before him. 
“Please, if you’re comfortable with it…” you start, voice laced with desperation, but he shakes his head. 
He’s full of interruptions tonight, “Consider me comfortable with anything unless stated otherwise for this moment, my sweet.” 
“Take off your clothes, Astarion.”
His giddy smile should annoy you. That smug satisfaction in finally, finally getting his way as he undresses himself at almost twice the speed that he had stripped you. And yet he knows you’re enjoying yourself just as much as he is. You’re reveling in drinking in the bare caricatures of his body, every inch and every curve exposed to you just as you are to him. And when his cool skin meets yours again, his body sinking right into that space between your thighs that you’ve granted to him, you let out a short gasp that reminds him that you want this just as badly as he does.
You’ve waited just as long as he has. 
It almost mirrors that night on his grave. The slow descent of his body against yours, the way he slides a leg up to spread your own even further for him as he crawls his way back home to your lips. Unlike that night, however, he isn’t taking quite as much care, his movements far faster and far more needy. 
He’s been waiting long enough. He’s denied himself long enough. 
It really doesn’t matter when the last time he had enjoyed sex had been, because all that he cares about is that here and now, in this moment with you, there’s not a trace of imperfections to taint his enjoyment. 
Cazador is dead. The brain has long since been defeated. You are both safe. 
As he sinks into your heat, the only thing on his mind is that contentment, overwhelmed with the feel and smell of just you. 
He’ll never be a slave again. Never be viewed as something to simply be used and disregarded again, if you have any say. And one day, some day, he’ll even feel the warmth of the sun again. Thanks to you.
But until that day, the warmth of your love is enough.
When you sigh his name out so delicately, jaw all but unhinging itself in bliss as your back arches in reaction to his touches, he knows he’s made the right choice. 
And he supposes he lied, in a way, earlier. 
You’re not that hard to please – not when it comes to him, at least. Not when it’s his hands trailing along your skin, not when it’s his lips and fangs nipping at every opportunity. And certainly not when it’s his name that’s being chanted like a prayer from your lips in time with every thrust, every stroke, every single movement with the sole purpose of making both of you come undone. 
Astarion no longer questions when the last time he enjoyed sex was in the aftermath of it all. With you, pressed into his side, sweaty forehead nuzzling his chest, the only thing he cares about is the next time he’ll be able to do so. 
“We’re still going to that reunion,” you murmur, half asleep, fading away from him quickly to fall into blissful unconsciousness. 
He almost doesn’t breathe in fear of disturbing you. He’ll waste the night away, laying here, still as a statue for your comfort. 
It’s no surprise when he refuses to put up a fight, instead his hand simply drawing soft stars across the back of your bare shoulder blades as he sighs, “Yes, dear. We will. Now sleep.”
“I love you.” 
The words tumble from your lips so carelessly, so easily and without hesitation, he nearly shakes you awake to hear them once more. Again and again, he needs to hear them, to be reassured that you feel for him as ardently as he does you. 
But he has the rest of your forever to hear them. So he lets you sleep, sending you away with a simple press of his lips to your temples as your breathing evens.
“And I love you, my dearest sun.”
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yuri-is-online · 3 months
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Daytime TV Dreaming (A Fyuuture Kid AU Drabble ft. Heartsabyul, Savanaclaw, and Octavinelle)
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While camping in the mountains during Camp Vargas, you encounter a monster exactly like the one you fought off with Ace and Deuce at the beginning of the year. While trying to fight it off again, a strange portal opens up in the mine and a person jumps out of it to your rescue. He says he doesn't remember much, but it's clear when you bring him to Crowley that this boy is also from your world, despite being a mage, and until the headmage can think of a better solution, he assigns "Yutu" to your dorm.
Something a certain someone has an opinion about.
notes: When I was re-working my masterlist I deleted a fic that I meant to be the start of a series where Yuu’s child travels back in time to try and prevent the destruction of Twisted Wonderland and their parent's untimely death. For some reason I wrote that child as having been born after Yuu was forced to leave Twisted Wonderland with modified memories, so he doesn't actually know that much about his dad until he gets iseakaid just like Yuu did to attend Night Raven in a much more dystopian setting. Anyway if I ever go back to that concept I'll probably re work it, but I thought it would be fun to share my notes about the guys reaction to this newcomer who gets sorted into Ramshackle Dorm. They/them used for Yuu as always but they are implied to be afab, "Yutu" is not meant to be the child's real name, and he is meant to be wearing a disguise to make his identity less obvious. Actual fic can be found on my masterlist.
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Heartsabyul
Ace- is legitimately worried about the intentions of this weird newcomer but it comes off as him being a jealous brat so no one takes him seriously. Look, something just doesn't feel right about this! Your world doesn't have any mages but now one shows up? And he's weirdly familiar with you? Cmon someone other than him start asking some questions please! Tries to have "a talk" with Yutu, who is trying really hard to understand what his parent saw in his dad and... just not getting it at all. RiP Ace you have been assigned cringe before the kid has even been born.
Deuce- only concerned with making a good impression because if this person is from Yuu's world then they might value his opinion on.... things. Also an honor student would try to win over his crush on his own merit and not by intimidating potential competition. Actually ends up befriending Yutu and really liking his vibes, which gives the boy a lot of guilt because he knows his dad would probably feel very guilty if he knew what his son's life has been like.
Trey- he is slightly worried about how Yuu will handle having to take care of an actual person and not just a monster, but he also feels like it is none of his business so he doesn't pay too much attention. But then Yuu mentions that Yutu is a pretty talented baker and that's why they haven't been bugging him for sweets as much. Well isn't that just ADORABLE??? Trey isn't upset about this at all nope, not one bit. He's extremely upset and Yutu is stirring the pot because he thinks making his dad angry is funny.
Cater- oh look, another person who won't be a part of his life eventually. He doesn't get any weird vibes from Yutu so he doesn't worry about what his appearance might mean too much, but there is something about the way the newbie insists on trying to be his friend that reminds him a lot of Yuu and isn't helping with this whole "denial of the crush" thing he is trying to do. If he didn't know any better he would think Yutu was doing it on purpose.
Riddle- immediately starts butting into Yuu's life more to give them advice about being a proper housewarden. Not that he didn't already see them as one, it's just disciplining a human student and disciplining Grim are a bit different and no he is not using this as an excuse to spy on the Prefect how dare this brat suggest his intentions are impure?!?! (Ah but you see Riddle you can't just take Yutu's head off in front of their Prefect because you want them to liiiike you and he is so going to use that against you.)
Savanaclaw
Leona- understands that something is not quite right as Yutu's explanation of who he is doesn't quite pass the sniff test. Literally, the brat smells like Yuu with his magic and since Leona was one of the people who got a good look at the portal Yutu came through he pieces things together pretty quickly. Not that he immediately goes and pulls a Vader on the kid, he just makes it clear he knows there is some time travel involved and demands to know what his goals are. He can leave the family shit for after he's secured the kid's existence.
Ruggie and Jack- while they have different opinions on the new kid, Leona's sense of smell still tells him Yutu's identity and as their dormleader he feels the need to take them aside and mention what he knows... sort of. He tells them that he's pretty sure time travel is involved and that Yutu is related to Yuu, but he neglects to mention the whole bit about who he thinks the father is... which drives them insane in completely different ways.
Ruggie thinks that since you clearly have a thing for beastmen anyway he would be stupid not to shoot his shot. He doesn't give two shits about whether or not Yutu is his kid, time isn't real so he can just rewrite it a bit.
Jack is determined to treat Yutu fairly and protect him since you are his friend and that's what friends do for each other's kids. Has a full blown panic over whether or not this might give the kid an identity crisis and takes him aside to reassure him he doesn't want to replace his real father, and that he will be happy as long as Yuu is happy. que the world's most awkward conversation
Octavinelle
Azul- Oh? Ramshackle has a new dorm member? And he's a mysterious mage... allegedly from the same world as Yuu... something doesn't make sense here but while he is figuring that out. Capitalism ho! This is a great money making opportunity he is observing and scheming and thinking about the perfect contract to get Yutu to spill all his secrets. Unfortunately, Yutu seems to be afraid of him for some reason? Not Floyd or Jade, just him. He can't say he dislikes it... but it is a bit odd, at least it gives him something to talk about with you???
Floyd- Also saw the portal that Yutu came through and thinks something must be up with how close the guppy seems to want to be with Yuu. Starts calling him baby shrimpy as a joke because of how clingy he is to you, but he really really hates it. He can't fight baby shrimpy because that will make you not like him, and he can't scare baby shrimpy off with a deal because he's weirdly smart with those sort of things. He also seems to really look up to Floyd... like that one spiderverse meme, and Floyd hates it! he already had a hard enough time getting Yuu alone when Grim was around he doesn't need a second baby unless it's actually his >:CCC
Jade- a new mage? How delightfully unpredictable. He's probably the only one genuinely happy Yutu is around because of how funny the story of his arrival is. The only upsetting thing about this is that he wasn't able to go camping with Yuu himself. Like Azul he senses something is wrong with Yutu's story, but he doesn't intend to press him until he has the new kid's trust. He's just here to help after all, there's nothing to be afraid of so long as there is no need for him to be jealous.
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Grandpa Ackles
Summary: Y/n was enjoying her husband’s new style post Supernatural, that is until a certain pair of glasses come onto the scene. How will Jensen feel about her teasing? 
Pairing: Jensen Ackles x Reader
Word Count: 1.7K+
Warnings: Language, age gap (implied), unprotected sex (don’t be silly..)
Author’s Note: This baby was born from a little razzing session I had with @winchest09 and @deanwanddamons regarding those glasses Jensen wore. It quickly turned into this mess that I forgot about in my drafts. I hope you enjoy it. As always I would love to hear your feedback xoxo Alex
Check out Alexandra’s Library for more works by yours truly!
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The love and support of the Supernatural fandom had been the spark that helped Jensen to come out of his shell. From singing at conventions to releasing his album and everything in between. He was far more at ease now than he had been back in 2005. But the truth was she hadn’t seen him blossom more than since the series finally wrapped. From getting to grow out his hair and the relentless press junket for The Boys, he’s been getting to show off his creativity and style like never before. Most of the time she was behind him all the way, but today’s choice had her questioning the man she had married. 
They were currently on set with Entertainment Weekly doing yet another interview. Y/n had followed her husband across Europe and now Los Angeles to support him in his recent endeavor. Now she found herself standing behind the cluster of monitors that showed each camera angle. Naturally, she was focused on Jensen, but not for the reason one would expect. 
It was like a train wreck, something she couldn’t look away from no matter how hard she tried. Her husband had first slipped the blue-tinted glasses onto his perfect face when they were about to walk out of the dressing room. At first, she had thought they were sunglasses and she was rightfully confused about him putting them on at that moment, but he walked right onto the set with them still in place and that’s when it hit her. They were a statement piece for his outfit. 
God, she loved her husband but she was seriously questioning his choices. The black-framed glasses were ever so slightly to big for his face. The lens appeared prescription strength in the way that they distorted his eyes to appear larger than reality. Sure, he wore reading glasses periodically at home but never had they made it into any sort of interview or red carpet before. Though he wouldn’t admit it to her, she knew it made him self-conscious about his age, especially considering the difference between them. So she would tell him how much she loved them, which wasn’t even the tiniest bit of a lie. Those glasses framed his face well and made him look refined. These on the other hand, well, as much as she tried to love them, it simply wasn’t happening. 
The interview lasted roughly an hour before they were back in his dressing room to pack up their things. Once he had cleared out the dressing room they hopped into a car to take them back to their hotel. Y/n waited with bated breath for him to remove the glasses, but he never so much as acknowledged them. Jensen conversed politely with her until they made it back to their suite. She plopped down onto the edge of the bed, watching him as he began to unpack his bag from the day. 
“Are you going to tell me why you keep looking at me like that?” He questioned finally, his one eyebrow quirking at her. 
“I-” Y/n chewed on the corner of her lip while she tried to find the words. “What is with the glasses?” 
“What do you mean?” Jensen crossed his eyes, playfully attempting to look at the specs without taking them off.
“Did you lose a bet…” her words trailed off, earning her a frown from her husband. 
“You don’t like my glasses.” It wasn’t a question.
“I don’t… not like them,” she tried with a smile but her husband knew her better than that. Jensen crossed his arms with a warning look, asking her to tell the truth. “Okay fine, they look like a bad 70’s accessory. I’m sorry, baby, but they are not it.” 
“These are Gucci,” he defended. Y/n hid her mouth behind her fingers, stifling a smile at his knee-jerk reaction to her opinion.
“I know this, and I love you, but just because you are playing, as you call him, a grandpa, doesn’t mean you need to dress like one.” Y/n made air quotes with her fingers as she talked. She knew she was digging herself a hole but damn it if she couldn’t stop talking. 
“Whatever, I need to change,” he scoffed as he began undoing the buttons on his shirt. The blatant roll of his eyes told her he was over this conversation but that didn’t stop what slipped out next. 
Y/n cupped her hands around her mouth and whispered, “Start with the glasses.”
Jensen froze, his eyes narrowing at his wife. She smiled at him, her tongue peeking out between her teeth. Before she could blink he darted towards her, his arms encompassing her as he tackled her into the bed.  A shriek left her mouth as the couple barreled into the plush furniture, quickly dissolving into giggles as he pinned her to the mattress.
“Careful, Jay, don’t need you breaking a hip.” Her words came out between snickers. She was quick to realize how worked up she had gotten him. 
“Funny, you weren’t saying that two days ago,” Jensen encompassed her with his form, one hand on either side of where her head lay. 
“Guess that was before I realized how close you might be to needing help from a little blue pill…” She let the words hang in the air, watching her husband’s jaw drop. 
“You gonna regret that,” he mumbled, dropping his voice as he cocked his head. 
“Promise?” Y/n bit her lip, a final challenge before Jensen dove in, capturing her lips with his own. Immediately she melted into the comforter, her hands moving to finish his job of undoing his top. Her work was distracted as the actor trailed his pillow-soft lips down her jaw and neck, using his tongue to suck the tender flesh into his mouth. A moan fell from her lips as he nipped her collarbone, the action egging him on. When she finally popped the last button, she hurriedly pushed the thin fabric from his shoulders. 
Jensen sat back on his legs, working open his belt and jeans as Y/n lifted her dress over her head. He let out a low whistle, letting his eyes roam down the expanse of her body, now just in a pair of panties. 
“I’m waiting, Grandpa,” she smirked, raising her arms above her head to emphasize her breasts for him. 
“Damnit woman,” he grunted, now in a hurry to rid them both of their offending bottoms. Once they were both exposed to the other, Jensen leaned back over her, again capturing her lips with his own in a heated kiss. He sucked her lower lip between his teeth as his hands ran down her curves. The action set her nerves aflame, warmth amalgamating low in her belly. 
In a second, his warmth was gone, and his large hands were flipping her onto her stomach. She rose to her hands and knees without a second thought, knowing that Jensen was not going to do her the courtesy of prepping her for him. The woman got no warning before her husband entered her from behind, his cock stretching her in every delicious and agonizing way. Her chin dropped to her chest as he set a grievously slow pace where she could feel every inch of him. 
“Fuck, Jay. Faster, please?” The words were a breathy plea on her lips. 
“What was that, baby?”
“I need more,” she reiterated. Jensen ran his fingers through her hair before gently tugging on the strands, pulling her frame up and flush against his own. His arms wrapped around her torso, the new muscles she loved so much dwarfing her body as he drove into her, faster with every thrust. His grunts were low, but deafening from their proximity to her. The sound was like music to her ears, each one helping to push her closer to the edge of oblivion. 
“Look at you, so wrecked from taking me like a good girl,” Jensen breathed out, his praises earning a whimper from his lover. “Do you think you deserve to come?” 
“Oh, fuck.” It was the only thing her brain could formulate at the moment. She knew this was a torture of her own creation. Y/n had pushed him to prove himself, knowing full well what would come of it, and damn it if she wasn’t regretting that now. The thing was he absolutely would deny her if she didn’t grovel. And it wouldn’t be the first time either. 
“I can’t hear you.”
“Nobody can fuck me like you. My body is yours.” It was the truth and had been since that first night together so many years ago. He had thoroughly ruined her for anyone else and still to this day proves that he knows her body better than herself. “I can’t come without you.” 
“It’s a start,” he murmured, his game punctuated with every thrust of his hips. His left hand traveled up to her throat, applying light pressure just above her collarbone. 
“Please.” She was nowhere near above begging him for release. 
“Since you asked nicely,” Jensen finally relented, using his opposite hand to press against her clit. The combination of sensations sent her over the cliff like a switch had been flipped. She squeezed her eyes shut, fighting the overwhelming sensations he continued to deliver until he too finished, rutting against her as he spilled himself inside her. 
His grip against her loosened and he let her back against the hotel comforter, taking care to keep her steady on her trembling legs. Y/n rolled over onto her back, staring blankly at the ceiling as her breathing evened out. Her husband joined her, resting his head against her stomach. Mindlessly her fingers came down to run through his long blonde locks. 
“Still think I need the blue pill?” He asked and she could feel him smile against her abdomen. 
“Fuck you,” she huffed out a laugh. 
“I think you just did.”
“Ugh, fine, you win this one, Ackles,” Y/n playfully pushed her husband from her side. “But next, time don’t expect me to cave so easily.”
“Oh?” One of his eyebrows shot up on his forehead and immediately she regretted her words. The actor was on her before she had a chance to blink, ready to prove himself as many times as it would take. 
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Forevers: @440mxs-wife @akshi8278 @emoryhemsworth @ever-mischief @foxyjwls007 @hobby27 @jbsgirl4ever11 @jensengirl83 @katbratsupernaturalwhore @leigh70 @lyarr24 @maggiegirl17 @maliburenee @muhahaha303 @mrsjenniferwinchester @sexyvixen7 @spnwoman @suckitands33 @stoneyggirl22 @supernatural3002 @traceyaudette @xlynnbbyx 
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harbingersglory · 3 months
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Hello, could I have transfem Signora x fem!reader smut? Any scenario is fine, just need dom Signora railing me 😩
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{☆} characters la signora {☆} notes drabble, fem reader, sub reader, dom la signora, transfem la signora {☆} warnings 18+ content, restraints, temperature play, face fucking, degradation, pet play
There's a moment of silence that lingers for far too long, the cold nipping at your exposed skin until you feel shivers wrack your body. You squirm instinctively, seeking out the fading warmth of the thick furs laid out beneath you, yet finding nothing but the cold that chills you to your bones. You can't even see, your eyes covered by black fabric, silk tying your arms together behind your back.
It's almost torturous waiting like this. Your knees sink further into the fur as you lean your weight forward slightly, exhaling a shaky breath. You begin to wonder if Signora left you there– maybe you'd annoyed her earlier and she was punishing you. You hoped not. She wasn't known for being lenient when it came to punishments.
But the brush of her fingers along your jawline squashed that fear, your breath hitching as her thumb glided over your throat, the heat of her skin making you shudder. The contrast of the cold room, of your freezing body, to the unnatural heat that simmers beneath her skin is immense– your knees would have definitely buckled if you hadn't been kneeling already.
"Did you think I'd left you here all alone? You're shaking like a dog." The soft, biting lilt was nothing more than a murmur, but for you it was impossible not to hear the pleased tone beneath the roughness of her voice. Your heart leaps into your throat when her fingers trace back up along your jawline, lifting your head and tilting it back just enough to be uncomfortable.
You open your mouth to speak, but your words are silenced by her thumb slipping past your lips instead– you don't fight back, even though the sudden intrusion catches you off guard enough you almost bite her finger instead. You almost consider doing it anyway, but she's so rarely in a good mood it feels rude to spoil it.
"Pets don't speak until they're told," She chides, pressing down on your tongue slightly and laughing at the way you almost choke in surprise. "And I don't remember giving you permission."
You can only manage a garbled whine in response, your face burning in embarrassment– but it's quickly silenced by the click of her tongue and the creak of the old chair you know sits by the fireplace, her thumb sliding out between your lips to drag you closer. Close enough to feel the rush of heat across your skin as your cheek is pressed against her thigh, her hands resting on the back of your head. You can't see it, but you sure can imagine the smug smile that must be tugging at her lips right about now.
"Let's see about fixing your little disobedient streak, darling." She murmurs, digging her nails into your scalp and tugging you even closer, the furs beneath you doing little to prevent the ache in your knees from kneeling. But you don't complain– you know what she wants, and you want it too. "Open."
Like the dog she seems so fond of treating you as, you listen– you're not as surprised this time when her fingers fill your mouth, forcing it open even further until you can feel the saliva collecting and dribbling down your chin. She doesn't seem to mind, even laughing at how pitiful you probably look, drooling all over her fingers.
But Signora is a hard woman to satisfy, and this will hardly do anything other then work her up enough to really break you in. You can just barely hear the rustle of fabric over your heartbeat, gloved hands tugging you closer and forcing you to press right up against the edge of the chair. It's almost uncomfortable, the way the chair presses against your chest, but she always has you teetering on that fine edge.
"Perhaps you can be trained after all." Signora's voice is like a balm, the heat of her body driving away the cold and urging you impossibly closer, until you feel her hand guide you down just as her fingers slip out of your mouth again– right up until you feel her cock against your cheek. "Show me that you can be obedient, mutt, and maybe I'll let you sit on my lap."
You know she's just dangling a treat just out of reach, but you can't help but reach for it anyway.
Your tongue drags across the underside of her cock, so slow you can hear the hiss that rattles in her chest halfway between pleasure and impatience. You take your time anyway, lingering until you reach the tip and press a kiss against it. You almost wish you could see her face, but she's never been fond of expressing anything outwardly when you can see it– just the idea of her brows furrowed, of her face flush and her lip caught between her teeth..it's enough.
It's not hard to imagine it anyway when the heat grows hotter, nearly turning the room into an oven before she catches herself. You aren't stupid enough to mention it, but your smile must be enough, because a low growl makes you shiver– so you drag your tongue from the base to the tip again, revel in the way it throbs beneath your tongue. For a moment you almost have something like control, your saliva dripping down her aching cock as you lap at it like a mutt.
But you're both growing impatient– the sharp click of her nails against the chairs arms makes you shudder, urging you to lift yourself up just enough to wrap your lips around the head with a muffled groan. You consider dragging it out just a moment longer, just to see if you can get her to whine, but she knows you better then you do– before you can even blink, her hand shoves you down. You, predictably, gag. Your throat burns from the stretch, but it's not unpleasant, eased by the pleasured hiss that tumbles from her lips. Signora at least has the mercy to let you get used to it for a moment before she drags you back up, the emptiness in your throat making you whine before she's shoving her cock back down your throat. Your eyes sting with unshed tears, your own sounds of pleasure muffled and garbled as she does it again– and again.
"Finally quiet, mutt?" She laughs, but it's strained– her voice quivers slightly as she fucks your throat like your nothing but a toy to her, drool dribbling down your chin and tears staining the blindfold. "If I knew it was this easy to shut you up, I'd have done it a long time ago."
You so badly want to do something, but with your hands tied behind your back and her fucking your face so rough, so fast, you can barely even think..there's not much you can do but let her, your cunt clenching around nothing. You really hope she wasn't lying about that reward, for once. You're practically dripping on her floor while she uses you, just barely able to squeeze your thighs together for a fraction of friction.
It only serves to make you more desperate, though.
"Fuck– or maybe you're too stupid to know better. You'd just let any pretty woman with a cock use you," Her breathing was getting heavier, more strained, but her grip on your hair didn't relent. Neither did the harsh thrust of her hips, her cock constantly hammering into your throat until you felt dizzy. "You're lucky I'm even willing to train a mutt like you."
Your mind starts to feel fuzzy, the words blending together until she digs her nails into your scalp and forces you down again– and keeps you there. You nearly gag again when you feel her shudder, her cock throbbing in your mouth as her cum spills down your throat, your hands straining against the silk binding them together. Your eyes roll into the back of your head, nostrils flaring and your body tensing– you don't even realize you'd briefly lost consciousness until your find yourself on her lap, rather then on your knees, her hands brushing the strands of hair stuck to your face with sweat out of your eyes.
It's the most gentle she's been all night– and likely as gently as she will be tonight. You lean into her touch anyway, groaning softly and shuddering at the taste of her on your tongue mixed with her cock throbbing against your thigh.
"I'm not done yet, darling. Did you think I'd let you get away with a little light training?" She laughs, cupping your jaw and pressing a kiss that's far too gentle to your cheek, the warmth of her body almost suffocating– but you welcome it, like you always do.
So you nod, smiling drowsily and spreading your legs like a good pet should.
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2knightt · 4 months
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「 you are—unforgettable.」
IN WHICH—you’re them and they’re you!♡ ໋֢ 👒✧
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🍵ヾFT. THE GREASERS࿐ྀུ ♡
⌗ 👒 notes !𖥔༌ ᰷ ﹅ people in this fic refer to two-bit as ‘keith.’ who cuz who the FUCK says ‘he got his two-bits in🤓’ NOBODY! but in the descriptive parts he will be two-bit. ALSO IF U DON’T UNDERSTAND WHAT I’M SAYING LOOK IN THE TAGS!
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Ponyboy Curtis ;
his class was gonna watch this movie before reading a book. ‘the outsiders,’ or somethin’.
it was made in the ‘80’s—he didn’t want to even watch it. watching movies in class was the worst!
ponyboy sat at his desk, head in his arms. he heard the music and looked up, chin resting on his arms.
when ponyboy seen you writing down and narrating, he could’ve sworn he died and came back to life. LIKE WHEN HE HEARD YOUR VOICEEE HE GOT A LITTLE BLUSH ON HIS CHEEKS.
his friends beside him noticed, snickering to themselves. they shoved him, asking if that was his future partner. he just pushed them off, quietly telling them to fuck off.
when ponyboy seen you covered in the soot??? phew—he questioned his morals, man. and THEN HE SEEN YOU BEAT UP?? he was getting FED.
ponyboy came out of that school a new man.
his ears were hot, his cheeks were red, and he was already looking up edits of you. ponyboy shoved those almost broken wired apple headphones in his ears and tuned everyone out.
when he got home he ignored any questions darry and soda threw at him and immediately went to his room. ponyboy quietly closed the door before hopping into bed, pulling out his phone, and going on tiktok.
spent like a solid 30 minutes tweaking over edits of you. like full on screaming into his pillow—i’m so serious.
“darry, what the hell is that noise?”
“i dunn—ponyboy?”
“AHHH!!”
when he found out that, outside of the outsiders, you’re decades older than him he was SO HEARTBROKEN.
the gang seen him looking at photos of you and immediately started teasing him. he absolutely tried to back himself up with stutters.
“they’re how much years older than you, bro?”
“NONO HEAR ME OUT, PLEASE! KEITH, BRO, PLEASE.”
reads fanfic. look at me in the eyes and try to tell me that ponyboy motherfucking curtis doesn’t read fanfiction.
you can’t.
like bro he’s so desperate for more content of you to the point where he writes the fics he yearns for—got pretty popular to.
“why the fuck is your phone blowing up?”
“PLEASE don’t ask me any questions about it.”
he’s a freak. he knows everything about you. ponyboy’s even began to watch your interview’s about the movie. and your other movies.
literally a teenage girl.
“THEY’RE SO FINE THOUGH, PLEASE!”
“nuh-uh.”
“FUCK YOU MEAN ‘NUH-UH’?”
Johnny Cade ;
seen you when he was watching random movies at the curtis house. at first he was like, ‘wait!! they’re so me coded😛.’ it never occurred to him that you could be so cute.
he seen you crying and something in him like actually snapped.
“wait….am i getting a crush? they’re kinda…”
when he seen the equivalent of ponyboy in this universe snuggled up to you in the church he was soooo jealous.
yk that one audio where it’s like, “how long is he gon’ be talking to my WIFE.” that’s literally johnny cade when he seen that person kiss the top of your head.
“what the fuck?”
“…what do you mean?”
“nothin’. it’s just kinda bullshit that they swoop in and steal my chance😒.”
“you never had one.”
“okay, pal😐.”
heart broke when he seen you in the hospital bed btw. like was full on gripping onto a pillow with tears in his eyes.
johnny was in such denial when he seen you die😭. ‘bro, no. they literally aren’t dead.’/‘guys!! it’s just a prank!!’
when he got to the scene he was in SHAMBLES. HE WAS INCONSOLABLE. ripping his hair out, screaming, crying, allat.
“stay gold…”
“NOOOOOOO-“
was so pissed when you didn’t come back. was even more pissed when your letter was read out loud.
“HOW COULD THEY KILL THEM OFF?? THEY DIDN’T DESERVE IT!”
“johnny, it’s a movie.”
“this is so unfair. i hate movies.”
gets nervous looking at photos of you. like to the point where he tries to look up your name on pinterest before bailing mid sentence and giggling. like full on throwing his phone across the room, kicking his feet.
will talk for hours about you. thinks your the coolest character ever!! defends you like his life depends on it.
“they killed someone?”
“so?? you’re acting like you wouldn’t do it to🤣🤣 fake ahh friend.”
“they legit can’t stand up for themselves. you want someone like that to be out walking them streets?”
“oh, god for bid a person has trauma. and YES I DO🗣️. i hope they walk right into my arms, HO.”
all said online btw. he would never ruin his ego by speaking like this. i am a strong believer johnny cade puts up a strong front online.
johnny literally thinks you’re the cutest person he’s ever seen. like his cheeks get so hot when he thinks about you and he gets a silly little smile on his face.
he looks at photos of you and his friends think he has a little girlfriend.
“who you textin’, johnnycakes?”
“nobody-uh!”
“c’mon—we see that smile!”
and it’s literally just you with blood dripping down your face.
Dallas Winston ;
caught a glimpse of you at some girls house he slept at. literally stopped dead in his tracks as he seen you light a cigarette before mumbling, ‘nothin’ legal, man.’
“i-uh, what movie’s this?”
“huh? oh, the outsiders. pretty good movie.”
he thanked her and threw on his jacket before speed walking to bucks place. he had to watch this movie or he’s actually lose it.
imagine buck’s bar is actually a house, kay? dallas sits his pretty little ass on that couch, flips to whatever streaming service, and turns on ‘the outsiders.’
thought it was all boring until he seen you walk into frame—mocking the main character. at that very moment he was all, ‘wait that’s kinda hot.’
seeing you help the two younger ones run away while still acting tough was so attractive to him. dallas felt like he was losing his mind.
seeing you run in after the two into the church kinda made his knees weak.
“BAE NO!”
“what the hell are you screamin’ ‘bout?”
“nothin’, buck…”
he was so scared that you’d die in the fire. (little did old dallas know am i right fellas!!!!) like i swear to god he was so scared you’d end up like the johnny in this universe.
WHEN HE SEEN YOU FIGHTINGGG. he went feral. dallas was like so flustered. he was trying so hard to hide his blush to the ghosts around him with his hair.
his flush was short lived however. seeing you cry and then literally point a gun at a cashier was lowkey whiplash for him.
“what the fuck is happening?”
dallas figured out what was gonna happen early on and started kinda tearing up. like one tear formed in his eye before he blinked it away. but he was still devastated.
WHEN DALLY HEARD SOMEONE SCREAM “they’re just a kid!” he lost it. like actually. he went limp on the couch and spaced out. like damn…his fiancé, who doesn’t know they’re his fiancé yet, really WAS just a kid.
nobody knows he likes the outsiders OR that he has a crush on you. and they CAN’T know, it’s way too embarrassing. like actually.
when he’s with the gang and he’s just casually scrolling on tiktok and he sees the tags with your name, he immediately favourites it and scrolls. he saved it for later when he’s alone.
also defends you like there’s no tomorrow.
“they were hitting on someone who had a partner??”
“okay?? fucking live a little jesus.”
“THEY’RE A FUCKING CRIMINAL?”
“i’m into it tho lmfao”
swears up and down that if you and him were in a room together—you’d have a crush on him. top tier delusion.
like if he gets drunk with keith, he will rant about it.
“no—hear me out. put me in a room with y/n l/n and i swear to god they’re gonna be madly in love with me.”
“no they won’t, dallas.”
“yuh-huh.”
looks at photos of you and probably has you as his pfp on his spam. includes you in every other photo dump.
Sodapop Curtis ;
seen an edit of you on tiktok and audibly gasped. full on went, “WHO IS THATT😜” went to the tags and just scrolled under it for a good long while.
he seen a angst edit of you and made up his mind that he had to watch the movie.
for the while that you weren’t on screen, he was trying to push through. he really was. but deep down—in his head he was screaming, “BORING! SHOW ME THE PRETTY ONE!!”
when sodapop seen you tending to your younger sibling he could’ve sworn he was on cloud 9.
“my turn when :/.”
WHEN SODA SEEN YOU GET OUT OF THE SHOWERRR😭😭. he lost his BREATH like was full on gripping his imaginary pearls.
had to take a breather to walk around the house before unpausing the movie. had a blush across his cheeks, i can’t even lie.
when he learned that you were described as, “movie star attractive,” all he did was nod. like,
“mhm. i always knew my fiancé was good looking.”
SODA WAS APPALLED WHEN HE FOUND OUT THAT YOUR PARTNER CHEATED ON YOU. like jaw was on the FLOOR.
“I COULD TREAT THEM BETTER🗣️🗣️ THEY KNOW WHERE HOME IS!!”
he is so open about his little crush in you—it’s so cute :(
“steve, look at ‘em.”
“i see them—get your fuckin’ phone outta my face.”
“aren’t they so perfect??🤭🤭”
“i guess.”
“well, BACK OFF. we’re already happily married.”
“in your dreams maybe.”
“oh my god.”
soda has you as his pfp on at least two platforms. his name on one platform is “y/n’s boyfriend (REAL!)”
seeing you run out on your siblings after they grouped you into your argument made him just wanna hug you so bad. like he just wanted to tell you it was all gonna be okay.
has a album in his photos where it’s edits of you and photos. giggles and twirls his hair as he looks at it.
Darry Curtis ;
his parents used to watch the movie all the time and you’ve always just been a life long crush of his.
like when younger darry seen you walk into frame, comforting your kid sibling, something in his head snapped.
suddenly everything was in slow motion, there were hearts everywhere, he had rose coloured glasses on, and for some reason—harps play in the background.
as darry grew up it literally never went away. whenever the outsiders comes on when he’s home he always still goes, “woah.😍😍”
like he thinks you’re so fine.
he doesn’t like watch edits, read fanfic—none of that🗣️. but if he gets asked who is celebrity crush is—your name is coming out of his mouth ASAP.
“so, darry, who’s your celebrity cru-“
“y/n l/n.”
“but they’re a character?”
“Y/N L/N.”
he has like ONE printed out photo of you in his room from years ago. he knows exactly where it is and where to hide it, but he still keeps it.
at least once every two months, when everyone’s asleep and he has no work the next day, he’ll stay up just to watch the movie.
he’ll have a budlight in his hand as he watches you absolutely DEMOLISH at the rumble.
“i always knew they’d win.”
“you’ve watch this movie a thousand times.”
“PONYBOY?!”
the gang eventually found out his little crush on you. only light teasing ‘cause they’re so scared they’ll get that darry smoke if they push him further😭😭.
“oh my god! look, darry! you’re little crush is on screen!”
“steve, i will beat some sense into you if you don’t shut up.”
“…okay, bud.”
“when’s the weddin’?”
“after your funeral, keith.”
“wow. hater.”
Steve Randle ;
his dad fell asleep on the couch one night with this old movie playing in the background.
steve was about to turn it off before he caught a glimpse of you offering this half naked person some cake. he was all, ‘WAITTTT🙈🙈!!’
like he seen you in that sleeveless jacket and immediately fell in love. literally was on a mission to figure out who you were.
when he did? all he wanted to do was watch the outsiders. WHEN HE SEEN YOU SCOLDING THE MAIN CHARACTER HE SOO KNEW YOU WERE HIS TYPE
“wish they’d scold me like that…damn…😞✊”
was TWEAKING SOO HARD WHEN HE SEEN YOU ALL BLOODY WITH YOUR HEAD THROWN BACK.
“…you think i look tuff?”
“YES BAE!!!”
making his name on like insta or something, “y/n’s HUSBAND.” he puts emphasis on the husband because he believes that you want him so bad.
like actually. he’s fucking delusional.
“guys…they like cake…and I LIKE CAKE! do you see my vision??”
“no??”
“man, fuck you.”
photo dumps on insta of pictures of you with the caption, “from our honeymoon 😍😍😛😛!” his friends are ripping him apart in comments btw.
WOULD GO FOR WAR FOR YOU.
“they’re actually so gross what.”
“YOU’RE GROSS!🗣️ KEEP THEM OUT OF YOUR MOUTH YOU FOOL!!”
“they have 0 depth.”
“0 depth to YOU. to ME they’re the love of my life.”
Two-bit Matthews ;
seen the outsiders when he was drunk. he didn’t remember anything that night but the cute lil’ actor who was laughing after flirting with some rich lookin’ kid.
the only thing he remembers saying that night was,
“damn—when is it MY TURN😩😞”
WENT ON A FUCKING HUNT TO FIND THIS MOVIE ISTG. he was looking up shit that didn’t even matter to the plot—so he got different movies each time.
‘cute actor flirting’
‘cute actor in old ass movie’
‘mickey mouse shirt’
‘when was mickey mouse created’
‘who is walt disney’
he got a little distracted but that’s not the point. two-bit found the movie and cried tears of joy. fell to his knees and all😭.
he immediately turned the outsiders on and waited to see you. HE WAS SOO SAD TO FIND OUT YOU HAD LIKE SUCH LITTLE SCREENTIME.
but he worked with it. he was taking SO MUCH PHOTOS OF HIS TV WHEN YOU WERE ON SCREEN LMFAO. they were all so shaky too😭😭.
doesn’t shut the fuck up about you.
“they want me so bad🤣🤣😂😂.”
“they wouldn’t touch you with a ten foot pole, keith.”
“what if i killed myse-”
“they’re so find i won’t ‘em.”
“what the fuck are you saying?”
“what are YOU SAYING? back up.”
saves edits of you. he is ABSOLUTELY THE TYPE OF PERSON TO SAY THE MOST OUT OF POCKET SHIT ABOUT YOU IN THE COMMENTS LMFAOOO
‘they could beat the shit out of me and i thank them :3’
‘WHAT?’
‘omg who said that’
you are his profile picture everywhere. and anywhere.
genuinely believe you’re the love of his life. i swear to god he does. KING OF DELUSION ABOVE ALL ELSE!
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actuallyicantsleep · 4 months
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what if you’re theo’s girlfriend and you’ve been dealt just a shitty hand at life: horrible parents, horrible ex, and more
and theo’s your person—like he is YOURS and you are HIS and he loves you and you love him
but in 6th year, he has to go home for Christmas, and you can’t go with him, but you can’t go home either, so you’re stuck at school, almost completely alone, ready to spend Christmas by himself
but on Christmas Eve, under the tree in the Ravenclaw common room, is Theodore Nott wrapped in sparkly paper, with a bow on his head
he struggles to get up as you run to him, but can’t, because he’s wrapped up in paper, but you reach him and you smile at him, and he tells you he loves you and you tell him you love him, and finally, after a long, long week, you kiss the love of your life and he kisses you back
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haddonfieldwhore · 4 months
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talk me down - vince dunn
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vince dunn x gender neutral! reader
summary: after a late game penalty and a frustrating shootout loss, vince is in a bad mood. good thing he has you to make him feel better
warnings: mentions of violence, langauge, angry vinny, a bit of angst but mostly fluff
word count: 1.2k
as the whistle blew with only a few minutes left in overtime, you ran a hand over your face in frustration as a penalty was called on your boyfriend, vince dunn, for deliberately whacking another player with his stick. while there should have been a call for the opponent holding and tripping vince, the way that vince had reacted was unnecessary. you’re making it worse, you thought, as he punched fiala in the face, nearly hitting him with his stick before the refs separated them. even in the stands you could hear dunn swearing his head off, and you were shocked he didn’t get more than a 2 minute penalty for what he’d done. thankfully los angeles wasn’t able to take advantage of the extra man on the ice and score a goal, but things went to the shootout and eventually the game ended in favour of the kings.
a cloud of disappointment hung heavy in the air of climate pledge arena as kraken fans filed out, without a win but still with a point as the players left the ice. you sighed as you stood up from your seat, the other players wives and girlfriends who had been at the game also getting up to go find their partners. they were talking about the game, and while you could have joined their conversation, you were more concerned with vince. you made your way to the back and waited impatiently for him to come out of the locker room.
after what felt like forever - the team surely having had a long talk with their coach about the events of the game - a familiar curly haired brunette emerged from the doorway, a scowl on his face.
“hey,” you said softly as you stood up, walking over and grabbing his hand gently. to your surprise he didn’t pull it away, but didn’t say anything, simply tilting his head in the direction of the exit. getting the message that he just wanted to go home, you nodded, walking with him out to your car and getting in the drivers seat, and the two of you began a silent drive home.
when you arrived home to his house, he went straight upstairs without a word, and you heard the sound of a door slamming upstairs as he disappeared into your shared bedroom. you grabbed a glass of water from the kitchen, your fingers anxiously tapping the granite counter tops as you sighed. you hated seeing him like this; beyond frustrated and tired. you knew he would never do anything to hurt you, you also understood that it was best to give him some space and time to cool down when he got like this. you took a seat on the sectional in the living room and scrolled through different apps on your phone, avoiding anything you saw about the game. about 15 minutes went by before you began to yawn, and decided to head upstairs to find vince.
as you walked into the bedroom, you saw him laying face down on the bed, his head at the wrong end. his one arm was hanging over the edge while the other was folded under his head like a pillow. he had discarded his clothes except for his sweatpants, and you admired the toned muscles of his back that were on display as he lay turned away from the door. it was clear he had just collapsed onto the bed, the blanket barely covering his legs and crumpled from being kicked aside. you quietly got changed into some shorts and one of vince’s t-shirts, before padding over to the bed and sitting down next to him.
“i’m sorry,” he mumbled, his voice muffled by his arm and the mattress. reaching towards him you brushed your fingers through his messy curls, shaking your head, though he couldn’t see you.
“you don’t have to apologize to me,” you assured him.
“i still am.”
“i know,” you replied, moving closer to him as you let your hands travel down to his shoulders, gently massaging the tense muscles. he shivered slightly at the feeling of your hands on the back of his neck, but then sighed softly as you worked at the knots in his back, trying to relieve some of the tension from the game. you spent about 10 minutes in silence, and you were honestly beginning to think vince had fallen asleep, until he spoke again.
“i’ll be lucky if i don’t get suspended or fined,” he said, groaning softly as you kneaded a particularly sore spot on his lower back.
“yeah,” you agreed cautiously. “i’m sorry, vinny; i really don’t know what to say.”
“now who’s apologizing?” he laughed dryly, and while it was bittersweet, it was the first hint of a smile you’d heard in his voice all night. “i fucked up, i have to deal with the consequences.”
“that’s true. but they should have called a penalty on the other guy.”
“yeah well i guess they thought otherwise. i didn’t exactly make the situation any better. i think i owe joey an apology for sending us to the shootout,” he gave another halfhearted laugh.
“i wouldn’t say it’s your fault it went to a shootout. give me your other arm,” you instructed, having finished massaging the arm you could reach. vince rolled over onto his back, looking up at you as he extended his right arm into your lap.
“i guess it doesn’t matter in the end,” he sighed, watching you as your hands ran up and down his bicep, soothing the tired aching beneath his skin.
“you guys still got a point,” you said optimistically, trying to look on the bright side of a shitty end to the night. vince smiled at you, the admiring gaze going unnoticed as you continued pampering him.
“yeah,” he mumbled, as you lifted his hand, playing with his fingers gently. “thank you.” you finally looked at him, his eyes tired but full of love as he stared back at you.
“anytime,” you smiled warmly, and giggling softly as vince opened his arms for you to crawl into. you laid down next to him, letting him pull you into his side as he stared up at the ceiling. you closely admired each freckle and detail of his face, and if life were a cartoon your eyes would have had hearts popping out of them.
“i love you,” you spoke quietly, placing a few kisses on his cheek. he turned his face toward you, your foreheads pressing together as he bumped his nose against yours softly.
“i love you,” he whispered. “i don’t know what i would do without you,” he admitted, kissing the tip of your nose, and then your forehead before pulling you closer, tucking your head under his chin.
“you’d have a stiffer back for one-“ you were interrupted by your own laugh as he tickled your side, and you smiled as you curled your body into him, inhaling the scent of his body wash that lingered on his skin from his post-game shower. “okay - okay i’m done.”
“goodnight baby,” he squeezed you tightly in his arms before reaching over and turning off the lamp next to the bed. a wave of tiredness washed over you as the darkness in the room enveloped you, and you quickly fell asleep.
vince laid awake for a little while, listening to the tiny snores that fell from your lips as you slept. whatever repercussions were to come from tonight, and whether they had lost the game or not, he had you, and that was a win in his mind.
disclaimer: all screenshots, events, and/or interactions depicted in this are a work of fiction. i have no association with any parties mentioned
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avenging-fandoms · 1 year
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This is so minuscule and lame but I like to think Pedro would be the type of man that would always make sure he’s holding your hand or has his hand on your waist / back for all scenarios
Like when he has to walk ahead of you, he puts his hand behind his back with a little grabby motion for you to hold onto
Or if you let go of his hand, he frowns
If you need to pass through a crowd, he guides you with his hand on your lower back
He’s such a goofball and sweetheart it’s hard NOT to think of these little things 🫣
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Pedro Pascal Masterlist
You got out of the limo a little after Pedro who waited for you on the curb. You thank the driver and follow behind Pedro who started walking down the red carpet. You watched his heels and he put his hands behind his back, waving his fingers.
You smile and walk a little faster, grabbing his hand and he brings you next to him. You walk with him and stand in front of the background, his hand holding onto your waist with your hand on top of his.
Pedro bent down to whisper in your ear, hand moving to your lower back, very low. "There's thousands of people here, but you're the only one who took everyone's breath away" He pulls his head up and you smile at him, rolling your eyes.
"You say that every red carpet, Pedro"
"Because it's true" He winks and you shake your head, giving him a quick kiss before you two walked further down the red carpet, and you two were sent to an interviewer.
You held a microphone with your right hand and Pedro's hand in your left, putting your hands behind your back as you two spoke to the interviewer. Midway through, you dropped your hand with Pedro's to move your hair out of your face and Pedro visibly pouted.
Pedro placed his hand on your butt, rubbing up to your back. You two finished the interview and walked away, Pedro's eyes still sad. "Is it because I fixed my hair?" The corner of his mouth curled up. "Pedro it was stuck to my lip gloss!"
"Excuses, excuses. You don't love me" He sighed dramatically and you laugh, stopping when you hit a pile of people. You look up at Pedro and he nods, his hand firmly on your back with his right hand gesturing forward. He kept you close to him as he excused you two through the crowd, making sure you weren't stepped on or bumped.
Once you two made it through the crowd, you moved your fingers in between his, Pedro smiling at you and kissing you before taking you inside. "Do you want a drink?" He whispered in your ear and you smile.
"Wine" You whisper and he hums, knowing what wine did to you. "I think later, you're going to start feeling sick and have to go home, and I'll have to be your nurse"
"I think.. my stomach is hurting now. You better take me to the bathroom and help me feel better" He winked but failed, making you laugh and kiss him all over his cheek. "Is there lipstick all over my face?"
"My kiss marks, yes"
"Perfect" He grabs your chin and kisses you again, heading to the bar to get you both a drink. You took sneaky pictures of him then when he caught you, then pictures of the both of you. "Send me all of those, one of them will be my new wallpaper" He mumbled into your shoulder and you smile, rubbing his thigh.
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ghouljams · 3 months
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you know what, as Angels self-proclaimed cool aunt, i am going to do a very controversial thing and say hurt. her. i want to see Keegan destroyed and sobbing. i want keegan not being able to look at their kids for more than a few seconds because they look like her. i want him finding drawings that the little monster made of their family and just breaking down again. give. me. the. angst. (pretty please)
Well. I've been wanting to write this for a while, but I'll keep it short.
tw miscarriage
You think you're a good pregnant person. It was rough the first go round, mostly because you were doing it on your own, but now you have Keegan around. He's around all the time, you can't turn a corner without him being there. You can't lift anything or grab for things off shelves, you can't go to the store alone, and Keegan follows you to work with the little monster in tow. It's actually sort of sweet saying goodbye to your little family outside your office every morning. You kiss both of them and wave goodbye, knowing they'll be there to pick you up when you get off.
It's a neat little routine you fall into. You feel good, healthy and happy. Keegan's started getting up early, getting Ainsley ready for the day and making breakfast. He kisses your cheek every chance he gets, settles his hand against your stomach, pulls you into his lap to feed you, he's more affectionate, more attentive than he's ever been. You'd be a fool not to give into his care. You know what it's like to be on your own, so this time you're taking full advantage of him.
Your toddler climbs into bed between you and Keegan for stories before bed, and cuddles close against your side. When their eyes are heavy and Keegan finally scoops them up into his arms to cart off to bed they reach for you, wrap their arms around your neck and whisper a good night to you. Your heart swells with happiness as you kiss their cheek. Your baby. You're holding off on telling them the good news until you can show them a proper ultrasound. It'll make them happy seeing a picture.
You really shouldn't be so happy, you're only a few weeks in, not even showing yet. It's Keegan, you think, his excitement is infectious and you've never seen him so happy. It takes everything in you not to smile every time he looks at you, every time he touches you. It takes everything not to giggle and grab for him every time you remember that you're having a baby with the man you love.
Keegan wakes you up at the first scent of blood. Spotting, then a brilliant horrible red. Your stomach drops, then the cramps hit and you don't have time to mourn because it hurts. It hurts and there's no amount of tears you can cry into Keegan's shoulder that make it stop hurting. Keegan's lips press against your temple, his arms tight around you as he calls 999. You hold on just as tightly, your body shaking with an emotion you can't put name to.
It wasn't far along, you try to tell yourself, I didn't even know them.
It doesn't help.
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softpascalito · 5 months
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Worth crossing a blizzard for - Pedro Pascal x Reader
Summary: During shooting for The Last of Us, a snowstorm hits Canada, essentially forcing Pedro to take the day off. Turns out its not as bad as he thinks.
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Relationships: Pedro Pascal x Reader WC: 1600 Tags/Warnings: MDNI, RPF, Real-Person-Fiction, Non-Explicit Sex, showering together, Gender-neutral Reader, Snow, blizzard, Crew Reader, The Last of Us Shooting, Canada, Kissing, Fluff, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Soft Pedro Pascal, Healthy Relationships, Secret Relationship Read on AO3 full advent calendar (updated daily)
notes: i haven't written pedro in sooo long, i miss him. needless to say, this is the lil version i created of him in my head and not necesarily an accurate representation of his actual personality <3 also, this is another lil entry for stephs winter writing challenge with the trope warmth, i highly recommend checking the entire list if youre interested :) (@toomanystoriessolittletime)
❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️
It starts with a light snowfall, little white particles floating through the air, rushing past the car as he drives back from set and a small sigh escapes his lips. It's been snowing on and off for weeks, usually meaning an earlier calltime for everyone, to make sure the locations can be cleared from the thin layer of snow if needed.
The wind has picked up by the time Pedro reaches the apartment that has been his home for the last few weeks and when he steps out of the shower half an hour later, the light snowfall has developed into a full-on blizzard, complete with cars honking in the streets below and his phone vibrating angrily, demanding attention. A rushed glance as he gets dressed confirms his suspicions. There's several warnings of severe weather, most of them due to hit tonight.
A gentle knock on the front door lets the man whip around and a small frown builds on his forehead as he crosses the hallway, taking a quick glance through the peephole. He practically yanks the door open.
You have your coat wrapped tightly around yourself, a knitted hat drawn down to your ears and a scarf wrapped around your neck. The two latter are practically soaked, decorated with little white crystals all over that are beginning to melt in the slightly warmer air of the hallway and dripping down onto the door mat.
Pedro stays still for a moment, taking in your form in front of him, before his brain registers what's going on. He reaches out, pulling you into the apartment, “What the hell were you thinking?”
The door closes behind you and the frown that decorated Pedros face a moment ago is now appearing on yours, “I- What?” For a split second you wonder if he's mad. He rarely gets a day off and even when he does, he usually spends it doing something, unable to just sit and relax, even for a little while. Maybe he's made plans for tonight and you've just crashed them.
“You can't be walking around in a blizzard like this, look at yourself,” he tuts, helping you take your wet coat off along with the hat and scarf and maneuvering them into the bathroom to hang them up to dry. You take your boots off carefully, gaze never leaving the man in front of you, “It's barely a twenty minute walk.”
“You're telling me you didn't even get a taxi?” He asks as he returns to the hallway and watches you put your shoes onto a small shoe tray.
“Does it look like I got a taxi?” You shoot back, getting a little irritated with how concerned he is. Immediately, Pedros gaze softens a bit and a small grumble escapes his throat as he takes a step forward, bringing his fingers up to your hair to carefully pick a snowflake out of it.
It melts between his fingers.
“No, you don't,” he muses, smiling a little sheepishly. “You could've called me. I would've picked you up.” You can't help but chuckle a little at that, “I did call you. You didn't pick up. The phone, I mean.” He stares at you for a moment, then back at his phone that has at least a dozen unread messages, then back to you, “Fuck, I- I was taking a shower, guess I didn’t hear-”
“It's fine,” you promise gently, standing on your tiptoes to place a small kiss on his cheek. Pedro sighs a little, taking in the way you’re looking at him and eventually nodding as he leads you further into the small apartment. It's spacious for one person but cozy for two, production of course not having calculated that you would be here too. You tried to stick to only sleeping over on weekends for a while, arguing that Pedro needed his rest and a quiet environment to go over his lines. He argued back that he slept a lot better with you beside him.
“You want a coffee?” He offers and you nod yes, following him to the open kitchen and hopping onto the counter as he grabs a mug for you.
“So you haven't read it yet?” You ask, rubbing your hands together in an effort to warm them up. “Read what?” His back is to you, the sound of the coffee machine starting almost drowning out his words. 
“Shoot is canceled for tomorrow. Probably until next week.”
Something about your tone makes him turn around to face you. He's in front of you a second later, hands resting on your waist as he studies your face, “And you're not happy about that?”
“Why would I? It sets us back at least two days and were already behind, at this rate reshoots-”
Pedro hums a little and squeezes your waist, causing you to fall quiet.
“I don't like it either but-”
You cut him off before you can stop yourself, shaking your head as you speak and lowering your gaze towards the floor, “It's just really bad timing and I have so much to do already and-”
“Hey, look at me.”
He squeezes again, a little harder this time, and one hand comes up to nudge your chin until you're looking right at him. You find soft brown eyes, the little patch in his beard you like so much and hair that's still a little damp from showering.
“It's snow. You can't do anything about snow.”
You let your head fall forward again, letting out a small sigh, “Yeah, I know.” Pedro gently brings his arms around you, holding you close for a moment. The coffee machine beeps, signaling that it's done. But he doesn't let go yet, rubbing your back a little instead.
“The way I see it,” he starts. “We may as well enjoy our night in. Even if it wasn't exactly planned. Plus, there's no way in hell I'll let you go back out there anyway.”
He does have a point. And a night off, especially a night off for both of you, doesn't sound too bad, even if it's constricted to the small apartment you're sitting in.
As soon as your coffee is empty and a few urgent messages are replied to, Pedro insists on a shower to warm you up. You're halfway to the bathroom before you turn around with a small smile on your face, “You're gonna let me shower alone?”
“I just showered,” Pedro replies almost automatically, putting your mug away. Then, he catches the small twinkle in your eye.
“You just showered,” you repeat, the smile still decorating your face and Pedro nods a few times before getting into motion.
“I guess I could do with another one.”
For once, there's no rush. You take your time, with the shower and everything that it includes. You spend what feels like a solid five minutes kissing afterwards, already scrubbed clean and so, so content. The air is steamy when you step out of the shower and Pedro really does treat you to the full experience, insisting on applying your lotion for you.
You hum contently as he gently massages it into your back, your muscles tingling with relief. He chuckles softly behind you, “Feeling a little warmed up already?”
“More than a little. Don't know how you do it.”
You lightly slap his ass on the way to the bedroom.
After securing your favorite sweater of his and some sweatpants, you find yourself in the kitchen again, rummaging through the cupboards to figure out what to cook up with the scarce ingredients available. You both usually eat on location or get some takeout on the way home, not to speak of the lack of cooking skill you both possess.
It ends up being pasta with some leftover greens and tomatoes and for once, you could swear it tastes ten times better than whatever takeout you could've gotten. You're cuddled up on the couch, staring out into the dark, gusts of snow still blowing past the window. The traffic jams have calmed down, the people returned to their houses to find shelter from the cold. Only a few lost ones are still wandering around, no doubt with a goal that justifies a walk through the conditions. You understand them.
Pedro watches a man disappear around the corner and swallows his mouthful of pasta, “Are you sure you didn't catch a cold?”
You smile weakly, “ Even if I did, it would be worth it. I'd trade a cold for a night off with you. You know that.” He chuckles a little, tilting his head slightly, “Just saying, it may be a little on the nose for both of us to get sick at the same time.”
You raise a brow as you finish your plate and gently put it down before cuddling into Pedro’s side, drawing your legs up onto the couch, “There's a blizzard. It's not that on the nose.”
The snowflakes landing on the window stay there for a few moments, glistening in the dim light from inside the apartment before the warmth seems to reach through the glass. One by one, they turn into small drops of water.
He considers your words for a moment before nodding, “Yeah. Yeah, I guess you're right.” His arm wraps around you, pulling you in a little more as you rest your head against his shoulder. He leans down to plant a small kiss on your head and you hum contently, smiling to yourself.
The snowflakes melt on the window pane. You melt in Pedros arms.
Your voice is only a mumble.
“Besides- you can't do anything about snow.”
notes: hey babes! im considering a second part to this so let me know if that's something you'd like <3
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rubycruzin4abruzin · 4 days
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never been (stage) kissed
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Summary: After years of being a struggling actress in Los Angeles, you finally land your big break! The only problem is, you’ve been cast opposite your longtime celebrity crush… Ruby Cruz. What will you do when the director demands a kiss between the two of you?
Pairing: ruby cruz x actress!reader
Contains: mature language, small amount of adult humor, kissing, fluff, thigh touching, in depth details of Hollywood movie shooting, anxious!reader, publicity tweets and comments, ruby being the sweetest girl EVER
Word Count: 3.1k
A/N: This is a Real Person Fiction. I’ve included a mass disclaimer of RPF guidelines here. Make SURE to click the link before reading, it’s extremely important for the safety of all Real People involved in this fiction.
You stared at the movie script in your hand, biting your lip to stop from squealing. After being in Los Angeles for the past five years, you had finally landed your big break.
You had known that you wanted to act ever since your mother signed you up to be a munchkin in a community theatre production of “The Wizard of Oz.” Of course, being a stubborn elementary schooler, you fought her on it, saying the songs were “stupid” and the costumes were “itchy.” But as soon as opening night came, and the lights hit your face, you put on a smile and celebrated the death of the Wicked Witch like it was something you’d been waiting for your entire life.
After the song's last note, deafening applause echoed around the theater, causing adrenaline to course through your veins. In that moment, you decided to spend the rest of your life chasing that feeling.
When you reached middle school, you joined their drama department, taking theatre as an elective class while occasionally participating in the school plays. Once high school rolled around, you began to take some of the more advanced classes, and even competed in a couple One-Act Play competitions. A lot of the people you started taking classes with eventually got bored and left to pursue other hobbies, but over the years you just fell more and more in love with acting, and became completely dedicated to your craft.
Instead of attending college, after you graduated high school you packed up whatever you needed and moved across the country to a small town about half an hour away from Los Angeles. The area was slightly sketchy, your apartment was small, and you had to work two jobs while sharing with four other roommates just to make rent.
Los Angeles kinda… sucked. But you had stars in your eyes and couldn’t be happier.
Unfortunately, you were kind of in for a rude awakening once audition season rolled around. Back in high school, you would book leads left and right. Now, it seemed like the only gigs you could book were background work, maybe a role in a rinky-dink student film if you were lucky. You always took what you could get, but you longed for something that could get your foot in the door.
One day, one of the short films you starred in entitled “Attack of the Killer Zombie Prom Queens” got entered into some film festival, and not only did it win an award you couldn’t remember the name of, it ended up going viral on YouTube, and not in a bad way either. Your performance in that film was astounding.
Plus, not that this was the sole reason the film blew up, but as an actress in your early 20’s who tended to take care of herself, you were kind of… well… hot.
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Suddenly, you were getting recognized in public, signed with an agency, and landing more notable roles. You were featured in a music video for an up-and-coming country artist, booked a commercial for a costume makeup company (in which you brought back your look from “Attack of the Killer Zombie Prom Queens”), and even starred in three episodes of a new series on HBO Max.
Just when you thought life couldn’t get any better, one day you were coming back from what was either your third or fourth audition of the day, when you got a call from your agent on the drive home. You groaned, almost certain she was calling to schedule another “last-minute” audition. Sure you appreciated how hard she worked to get you booked, but you were also so tired after a long day.
To your surprise, when you picked up the phone, she ecstatically announced that you had booked a huge role.
In a feature film.
Starring alongside your celebrity crush… Ruby Cruz.
You had to pull over on the side of a highway to keep from swerving out of excitement.
Ruby had been your celebrity crush since you saw her in the Disney+ series “Willow.” Her masculine ambience, her devil-may-care attitude, and the way she swung her sword had you absolutely drooling. Somehow, you finished the entire series in two days, and immediately ran to IMDB to add Every Single Thing she’s been in to your watch list.
Now, you stood in front of the building where your first read-through was supposed to take place, the script for “Aliens of Atlantis” resting in your shaking hands. You gulped as you pushed open the door, wondering how you were going to keep your cool around Ruby when the very thought of her practically sent you into cardiac arrest.
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Walking into the reading room, you were met with several chairs arranged into a circle and sounds of chatter from the other actors. You recognized a few of them from some smaller projects, even recognizing one from a movie that had come out the previous year. Your eyes scanned the room for Ruby, heart beating out of your chest when they landed on the back of a choppy brunette bob.
When Ruby turned around, you swore her blue eyes sparkled under the fluorescent lights. She caught you staring at her from across the room, and shot you a wide toothy smile before walking over to you.
“Hey,” she started. “You must be Zephyra.”
You blinked at her. “I’m sorry, what?”
“Zephyra.” She repeated. “You’re playing the alien queen of Atlantis, right?”
She furrowed her eyebrows at you slightly and tilted her head, worried she may have gotten you mixed up with someone else.
Her words clicked in your head, finally. “Oh! Yes! I’m playing the role of Zephyra.”
Ruby’s smile returned as she let out a lighthearted chuckle. You swallowed, trying to keep your cool. You still had trouble wrapping your mind around the fact that you were standing in front of the Ruby Cruz, and having a semi-successful conversation.
She stuck out her hand, offering a handshake. “Hi, I’m Ruby. I’m playing Calantha.”
You took her hand, electric shocks vibrating through your body at her touch. “Nice to meet you.”
After removing her hand (much to your displeasure), she turned to walk back over to her seat, but not before flashing you a smile over her shoulder. “Can’t wait to work with you!”
God, why did she have to be so cool?
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The table read went fairly well, in your opinion. The movie was about Calantha, an underwater adventurer, finding the lost city of Atlantis during an expedition. Once there, she finds the city being ruled by aliens who’s spaceship crashed near the area about 100 years ago. Calantha finds Zephyra, the alien queen, who makes her promise to keep their secret, and in return, Calantha will help her run the city.
You were playing Zephyra, of course, since being in “Attack of the Killer Zombie Prom Queens” proved you looked hot even in otherworldly makeup. You kind of thought there might be some romantic or even sexual tension between Calantha and Zephyra, but you brushed it off as you thought that might not be the artistic intention.
Once filming started, your days were basically exclusively spent on set. Not that you were complaining, you loved every second. Even after coming home at 1am when you left for work at 6am, a blissful smile would be painted across your tired face.
The only thing that bothered you was that you barely ever got to talk to Ruby on set. It was more your fault than hers. Every time you two were working together, your brain short circuited and you couldn’t get out anything more than a few dim-witted babbles. Ruby was always so sweet about it though, always lightheartedly chuckling at your barely-comprehensible speech, sometimes even giving your upper arm a squeeze if you felt especially nervous.
You knew she meant well, but any touch from your celebrity crush was sure to do the opposite of calming you down.
One day, during a filming session, you and Ruby were meant to be sitting especially close to each other. You were sure you felt some romantic tension between the two characters, but you chalked it up to your crush on the actress and tried to downplay it. The director, however, seemed very frustrated today, this was the nineteenth take of this particular scene and he still wasn’t happy.
“Cut!” He yelled, letting out a frustrated sigh as you and Ruby turned your attention towards him.
“Everything alright, sir?” Ruby asked, making you glad you weren’t the only one who noticed his irritation.
“This scene… it’s missing something.” He brought his hand to his chin and squinted at the both of you. “Do we think we could add a kiss? Right here?”
Your heart stopped, and all the moisture disappeared from your mouth.
It wasn’t like you hadn’t kissed people before. You had your fair share of dates back in high school, that wasn’t the problem.
You’ve kissed, but you’ve never stage kissed.
Sure you had plenty of acting experiences, but the roles you played never required kissing. Instead of playing Aurora, you made a fabulous Maleficent. While Elle Woods locked lips with Emmett, you were busy portraying a hilarious Paulette. And of course, nobody wants to make out with a zombie prom queen.
You had no idea if there was any difference between actual kisses and stage-kisses. Obviously, sex scenes in movies weren’t real. But kisses? What if there is a difference and you go to kiss Ruby on camera and make her uncomfortable? What if she pushes you away? What if she gets mad? You don’t know how you’d recover from something like that, and your mind swarmed with plans to flee the country if that did happen.
Ruby opened her mouth to answer the director, before looking at you for confirmation and noticing your overly-panicked state. She sent you a reassuring smile, and placed a gentle hand on your back.
She turned to the director. “Could we pick this up after lunch? I think my scene partner and I have some things to discuss.”
The director agreed, and since it was still about thirty minutes to lunch, decided to use that time to record some “room noise.” You and Ruby were meant to sit still and quietly, the only thing you heard being the echo of your heartbeat in your ears.
Suddenly, you received a text notification, causing sound to go off and the director to groan and shoot you an annoyed look. You mumbled a quick “sorry” before switching your phone to vibrate and looking to see who texted you.
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After wolfing down a sandwich from the craft services table, you stood in front of the trailer with Ruby’s name on the door, wringing your clammy hands while deciding whether or not to knock. You took a deep breath, raised your knuckles, and knocked three times, taking a step back after.
She answered almost immediately, staring down at you with a comforting grin. “Hey, come on in.”
Walking up the stairs and into Ruby’s trailer, you couldn’t help but notice how much cleaner it was than yours. You weren’t necessarily sloppy, but your vanity was covered in various bottles of blue face paint, while your floor held multiple alien-like prosthetics. Ruby’s was tidier, with a small couch pushed up against the wall, and her vanity holding nothing but some makeup basics and a half-full can of Dr. Pepper she had been drinking right before you walked in.
Ruby took a seat in her vanity chair and took a sip from her Dr. Pepper, motioning for you to sit on the small couch. “What’s going on? You didn’t seem too comfortable with the kissing scene.”
You gulped, staring down at your lap. “It’s not that…”
Ruby sat up, leaning forward to gawk at you. “Oh my god… have you never been kissed?”
“What? No! Of course I have…” you trailed off. “I just… I’ve never stage kissed before, and I know you have, so is it any different from regular kissing? I feel so stupid for asking and I’m so sorry but I didn’t wanna do it wrong while filming and I’m kinda embarrassed that I don’t know the answer so that’s why I wanted to ask you privately because I didn’t wanna fuck up…”
Ruby stared at you, silent and wide eyed. You felt your heartbeat in your ears as you tried to decipher what she was thinking. Suddenly, she threw her head back and let out a hearty laugh. Your heart sank. Here you were being awkward and vulnerable in front of your crush, and she was laughing at you.
Just before you decided to get up and walk out, Ruby calmed down, wiping away a tear and smiling apologetically. “I’m sorry, I promise I’m not making fun of you. I didn’t mean to laugh, really. You’re just so cute.”
You felt your cheeks burn at her words. She thinks you’re cute?
Ruby threw her soda away in a nearby trash can and moved to sit next to you on the small couch. She criss-crossed her legs, turning to face you while pondering how to answer your question.
“So… stage kisses are different from regular kisses, but they’re also not, you know? Like, we’re kissing but we’re not like… kissing.”
She peered over at you, studying your facial expressions. You looked more confused than ever, so she continued her explanation.
“So, if you’re asking if my lips will physically be on your lips… then the answer is yes, they will. But they’re not exactly like the real thing, because it’s more of a demonstration to the audience rather than an act of passion between two people.”
“A demonstration?” You cocked your head. Ruby nodded.
“Yeah, so say the camera was over there…” she pointed out in front of you. “…then you might cup my jaw, or cradle the back of my head. But if you were to grab my face or something like that, it’d look pretty awkward in a fifty-fifty profile shot.”
You nodded in understanding. “Ok… I think I get what you’re saying.”
“There are also different types of kissing.” Ruby continued. “Like, it should portray how your character feels about the other character. When Zephyra has scenes with Calantha, how does she feel?”
You gulped, focusing on your lap again. “Well, to be honest, it kinda feels like there’s a lot of romantic or sexual tension between our characters, but I’ve sort of been suppressing it because I’m not sure that was the intention.”
“But you feel like Zephyra is attracted to Calantha sexually?” Ruby asked. You nodded. “Great! You don’t necessarily have to make it explicit, but something like that can help you dive deeper into your character.”
Ruby scooted closer to you, taking your hands in hers. She gazed at you with half lidded eyes, causing your breathing to accelerate.
“I want you to kiss me.”
Ruby’s words barely resonated in your head, there was no way you heard her correctly. “You… huh?”
“For practice.” Ruby clarified, letting go of your hands. “Like you would during filming. Is that ok?”
An involuntary swallow forced itself down your throat as you nodded. You couldn’t believe you were about to kiss your celebrity crush, even if it was only for practice.
You pressed your hand into her warm cheek, pulling her close and quickly pecking her lips before retreating away. Your face burned from embarrassment while Ruby cocked her head, clearly confused.
“That’s it?” She asked. “My bad, I didn’t realize Calantha was your grandmother.”
Ruby moved closer and cradled the back of your head, entangling her fingers into your soft locks. You felt your hands sweat as her big blue eyes gazed into yours. “I was thinking maybe something more like this…”
She crashed her lips into yours, causing warmth to explode in your chest. Her fingers played with your hair as you began to kiss back, and your arms wrapped around her waist. Holy shit could she kiss! You could barely fathom how soft her lips were, tasting faintly of Dr. Pepper and vanilla lip balm. As hard as you tried to act professional and pretend there was a camera in front of you, every inch of your body screamed at you to succumb to your most primal instincts.
You lifted one hand from her waist and moved to rest it on her mid-thigh, causing a gentle moan to escape from her lips and a shiver to run down her body. Startled, you moved back, throughly convinced that you majorly fucked up.
“Shit, I’m sorry!” You exclaimed, pulling back your hand like it had touched fire. “I wasn’t thinking, fuck. I got too swept up in the moment. I shouldn’t have touched you, that was completely unprofessional.”
“Hm…?” Ruby blinked, still in a daze. “Oh. Oh! You’re good! Don’t be sorry. I liked it. Really.”
Ruby grinned at you shyly. You stared back at her, a question you weren’t quite sure how to ask lingering at the tip of your tongue. “Ruby, are still… practicing?”
Her smile faded as her eyes went wide and her gaze dropped to her lap. It was her turn to be coy, a sight you’d never seen before.
She dropped her voice to a low whisper as she choked out her question. “Do you want to be?”
Before you could even open your mouth to answer, your phone alarm screeched from your jacket pocket. You took it out, groaning as you turned it off.
Ruby furrowed her eyebrows in confusion. “What was that?”
“My alarm,” you answered. “I have to go.”
“But lunch isn’t over for another twenty minutes.” Ruby pointed out, trying to hide her disappointment.
“Yeah, but I have to head back early so they can touch up my makeup and fix my prosthetics.”
Ruby sighed in understanding. She supposed your costume might have a bit more upkeep than hers. Your prosthetics did look a little wonky after the lunch break, never mind your smudged blue lipstain that made her apprehensive to look in a mirror.
You collected yourself and turned to walk out, but looked over your shoulder before opening the door. “Uhm… Ruby?”
“Hm?” She answered.
You wrung your hands anxiously. “Do you think we could maybe… do this again? Sometime?”
Ruby’s head shot up to look at you, and a playful smile spread across her face. “Do what? More kissing lessons?”
You rolled your eyes as she chuckled, then gave you a lopsided grin. “I’d like that. Lunch again, tomorrow?”
A blush pink color sprinkled across the apples of your cheeks as you smiled back at her, trying your best to stay cool and suppress the giddy feeling that was bubbling inside of you.
“See you then.”
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joelslegalwhre · 1 year
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Hey anon! I love the idea, thanks for your request &lt;3
Just us
pairing ⁀➷ henry cavill x fem!reader
word count ⁀➷ 2.2k
summary ⁀➷ up in the ask
warnings ⁀➷ age gap (reader is in early 20’s, henry is 38), pure fluff, drunk Henry (but not in a bad way?), H/F means Henry's Friend, paparazzi
a/n ⁀➷ thanks for the request anon this was a blast to write!
Since an anon pointed this out to me; („paparazzi get called and scheduled“) they can also get their information about the whereabouts of a celeb from bartenders, spotters, etc… Please remember that I write fiction and not everything is like real life 100% of the time 🫶
Here’s my h.c. playlist
🥤my kofi if you’d like to leave a tip🩷
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The night was truly not as you would have imagined it to be.
„Henry... c'mon bear, let's go home." you said, trying to get him off the barstool.
„You look beautiful.“ He slurred in your ear.
Goosebumps immediately spread over your entire body. You quickly kissed the corner of his lips, "Thanks. You look terribly handsome though, even drunk.“ you whispered with a chuckle, „That should be illegal."
His hands wandered to your hips, his fingers tracing shapes all the way up to your bra.
Henry was drunk as hell, and you had to get him home now before he did something in public, that he would regret later.
Luckily, one of his mates had your number and texted you about half an hour ago.
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H/F: Hey Y/N can you please pick Henry up? We might have had a little too much of…. everything...
You: I'm on my way
You instantly hoped that there would be no press around.
You couldn't use paparazzi now, but they kind of always knew where Henry was. At any time of the day… or night.
Henry's friend had sent you the address of the club right after your last message.
Usually Henry wasn't someone who partied much. You spent your weekends together on the couch, walking Kal, or cooking together. But who never went out partying on a weekend?
"Kal?" you peeked through the door into the living room. His head lifted from his big dog bed, and he looked at you, panting.
"I'm going to pick up Daddy, will you watch the house while I'm gone?" Excitedly, he wagged his tail when he trotted to you as if confirming it to you to watch out. Lovingly, you petted him behind his ears. "I won't be gone for long."
"Alright." You muttered to yourself as the car came to a hold. You thanked the cab driver who would wait for you, and got out at the back entrance of the club. You wouldn't have found a parking space in front of the club by car, so the cab was clearly the better option.
Fortunately, it wasn't very busy, and you couldn't see any paparazzi. You took your ID out of your pocket and immediately received a few strange looks from the security guards. Sure, probably very few people came here in jeans, a hoodie and sneakers.
The club was loud and sweaty, and you could feel the bass of the music pulse through your body.
Just then you realized that you didn't know where they were, and the club was quite big, so you texted Henry's friend again.
You: I'm here, where are you?
H/F: At the bar, you have to get to the back of the club
You: Thanks
Making your way through the crowd, you began to sweat in your hoodie but couldn't take it off unless you wanted to walk around in only your bra, which you obviously didn't. You saw them just a moment later, all of them looking rather drunk. A chuckle left your lips when you saw Henry on a bar stool, resting his elbow on the counter. He was clearly drunk as hell. You wondered how they managed not to get the attention of the whole club by now, usually wherever Henry went the people recognized him. Right when you thought that, two girls walked up to them.
Henry didn't even see them, too interested to get the bartender's attention for another drink. His friends did though, just for the two girls to tap Henry's shoulder and flash him a flirty smile. He turned around by the sudden touch and drew his brows together. You couldn't hear what they were saying, but you grinned when he pursed his lips, shaking his head with raised brows.
He removed the girl's hand off of his arm, and his friends suppressed a laugh.
Just then, you finally reached them and immediately caught Henry's attention. „Hi, boys.“ you greeted his friends, and immediately got smiles and waving hands back.
„Excuse me, if you'd be so nice…“ You dryly said and squeezed past the girls, „l'm going to get this drunk mountain of a man home.“
„And who are you?" One of them asked with a deprecating look, eyeing you up and down.
„Mine." Henry answered for you. He grabbed the hem of your hoodie and pulled you to his chest. „Hey baby.” He purred as he put his big hands on your cheeks and kissed you.
You could taste the alcohol on his lips but didn't mind one bit. His curls were tousled, and you wanted to run your hands through them, to make them even messier. And as much as you wanted to keep kissing him, you broke away from him.
Henry still had his hands on your cheeks.
Your hands went to his and gently withdrew them from your cheeks. "You need a bed." you laughed lightly.
"Only if you are part of the bed too." He grinned and you shook your head, giggling. "Not today, Cavill."
Henry grimaced, „C'mon baby…..please".
„How old are you anyway?" one of them interrupted the two of you. „Yeah, are you even allowed into a club?" the two girls were still giving you deprecating looks,
„I'm old enough, thanks for your concern." you tried your best to sound as nice as you could.
„Henry... c'mon bear, let's go home." you said, trying to get him off the barstool.
„You look beautiful." He slurred in your ear. Goosebumps immediately spread over your entire body.
You quickly kissed the corner of his lips, "Thanks. You look terribly handsome though, even drunk.“ you whispered with a chuckle, „That should be illegal."
His hands wandered to your hips, his fingers tracing shapes all the way up to your bra. „Stop that." you lightly chuckled. Your hands softly grabbed his and removed them from your sides. „You can do that at home. When you're sober." you whispered into his ear, knowing damn right what it would do to him.
You turned to Henry's friend who had texted you, „Thank you." you chuckled, and he just raised his glass with a smile and nodded.
„Alright, let's go." you chuckled and took Henry's large hand. „Night, boys.
"They all gave an almost harmonic, and drunken, "Ciao, y/n", which made you laugh.
On your way out, you could still feel the gazes of the two girls on your back.
The same security guards that eyed you for your unusual choice of clothes when you entered the club, were now giving you the same looks. Not because of your clothes, though. You and Henry's hands were intertwined as you two exited the club, and he continued whispering sweet nothings into your ear.
You knew that look, it wasn't the „Omg, look that's Henry Cavill!“ , but rather the „She must at least be 15 years younger than him." look.
And even though there were almost 17 years between you and Henry, you looked even younger than you really were. Something the press absolutely loved, of course.
The moment you and Henry walked out of the club, you were greeted by blinding lights, dozens of shouting paparazzi.
Henry's grip on your hand tightened and no matter how drunk he was, he immediately switched to being your protector.
Almost everyone with a camera shouted his name, the few without were shouting various questions;
„How much younger is she?"
„Is this your girlfriend, Henry?"
„Who is she?"
„What's the name of the girl, Henry?"
And so much more that got lost in all the voices and shouting.
Henry let go of your hand to wrap his arm around your shoulder, protecting you from the paparazzi. „Give us some space, goddamn." you could hear how he tried not to sound as drunk as he really was. And you loved him even more for doing his best to keep you safe even when he wasn't feeling his best.
He pressed you against his chest and continued mumbling complaints.
Normally Henry was one of the most polite celebrities you knew, he smiled and gave them answers most of the time, but today they were definitely crossing a line.
He didn't stop walking, nor taking his arm from your shoulder when he grabbed the hood on your hoodie and pulled it down to shelter your face from them. In all the hectic and flashlights, you totally forgot that you could do that. Which once more showed that Henry might have been drunk, but he was still your protector, no matter what.
You helped him by guiding the way to the cab, still waiting for you outside the club. The paparazzi were following you until both of you got in, the car door shutting out their questions and the sounds of clicking cameras. „Fuck, I'm sorry, peaches."
„It’s fine, Hen. Don’t worry about it.“
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Last night when you had made it home, Kal was impatiently waiting for you two. Whenever you didn't come home with Henry, which got rarer with each week, he got quite confused why his new mommy wasn't coming home with his dad.
Who was absolutely wasted right now. When he hit the soft bed, a moan left his mouth. „Wait a second before you fall asleep." you giggled, „l'll be right back." With Kal by your side, you went downstairs into the kitchen, getting Henry a glass of water and ibuprofen.
„Look at him, Kal." the dog looked at his dad and back up to you. A snort escaped your mouth. The mattress sank down next to Henry. „Babe... Hen." you lightly caressed his cheek. „It's better to take them now."
His eyes opened only so much to see you, he groaned but took the glass and the pill out of your hand.
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You heard the door to the living room open and close, your head turning in Henry's direction. He blinked a few times, probably because the sun was still brightly illuminating the room. You looked up at him from were you were sitting on the floor, scratching Kal behind his ears, while Henry approached you. „Morning, bear." you smiled at him.
„Good morning, peaches." The sight of you and Kal together in his home was one of the things Henry loved the most. Thus, why he always wanted you to stay at his, so much so that it wouldn't take him much longer to ask you to move out of your own apartment.
He sat down on the couch behind you and patted his broad tights. He hugged your waist as you snuggled up to him, one leg draped over his thigh. „Thanks for the painkillers." he mumbled into your hair, breathing in the scent.
They smelled like peaches, and more so like home. „lt's an old trick my cousin told me about. The headaches are much less painful if you take them at night first and then again in the morning." you grinned at him. Henry kissed your forehead, keeping his lips there a little longer.
„l love you." he whispered.
„I love you too." your hands rested on his muscular chest. You just laid there for some time, Kal sleeping on his dog pillow, and listening to the birds singing outside.
„I bet the pictures are everywhere by now.”
You raised your head to look at him. A heavy breath escaped your lungs and Henry stroked your hair.
„Let them talk." you said.
„Who are they to tell us what to do and whom to date? Martin Freeman is married to Rachel Mariam, and she is 21 years younger than him." you played with Henry's fingers, „it's not like l'm underage.” Henry chuckled at your comparison.
„But you know what you are?" Henry asked with a soft smile. You propped yourself up on his chest, „What?"
„You are the woman I love. You are the only one I will ever love and the one I want to call the mother of my children. You," he stopped and looked at you with a look of pure love, „You're all I want."
With that, he had taken all the air from your lungs. Your mouth was slightly open and tears began to run down your cheeks.
"Oh baby, don't cry." Henry grinned as he wiped the tears from your cheeks.
"How am I not supposed to cry?" you sniffled. "That was the most beautiful thing I've ever been told. And all those things, everything, I want all those things with you and only you."
As if Kal had been waiting for his moment, he put his head on Henry's thigh, looking at both of you. You giggled as you gently stroked his snout. "You too, Kal."
“l'm glad they know." Henry whispered to your hairline.
„Me too."
He wrapped his hands around you and pressed you back against his chest. His warmth wrapped around you like a blanket, and slowly your eyes closed.
Henry took out his phone to take a picture of the three of you, Kal on his pillow, you asleep on his chest. One of your hands rested on his torso while the other was resting under your head. He smiled at the picture. The sun was still shining into the room, painting everything in a golden light.
With the caption „Just us" he posted the picture. Confirming it to the whole world.
༄ Don't copy, translate or republish any of my works on any app or other platform please. I only post my work on Tumblr and Wattpad.
Reposts are always appreciated, they really make my day🧡
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