#norton sign in | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

poeticpascal · 1 year

Text

Trouble (Pedro Pascal x Rockstar!Reader)

Masterlist | Request here!

Summary: Pedro had never heard of (Y/N) (L/N) before his latest appearance on The Graham Norton Show. By the end, his assistant wishes it had stayed that way, and he wonders how it took him so long to find her.

Word count: 4.8k

Warnings: mentions of drug abuse (now recovered), allusions to but no specific mention of an overdose.

A/n: I am very nervous to post this! I've never written a fic about an actor like this before, so depending on how this one does lol, you may be able to expect more from me like this. Please let me know what you think, and don't forget my requests are open!

“And he used red this time! We were getting so worried that he wasn’t interested in all 3 primary colours-”

Pedro sighs, glancing towards the door to see if his assistant was coming back yet. No sign.

He turns back to the old lady who’s been talking now for what - 4 hours? 5? It felt like it. She was sweet, and he didn’t want to be rude, but god if he had to spend one more minute hearing about her grandson’s latest finger painting-

“So sorry I took so long! We’ll have to get going Pedro - your next interview is in 10.”

His assistant - Alicia - burst back into the room and Pedro was sure he could feel his eyes well in relief. He takes the lady’s hand, shaking it and giving her a warm smile. “Mrs Alderman, I’d love to hear all about Harvey, but I’ve gotta go. It was lovely to meet you!”

She smiles in understanding and clasps her own hand on top of his. “It was lovely to meet you too, Peter!”

Alicia snorts behind him, and Pedro gives up with a final, defeated smile before heading out of the cafe and back towards his car. He’d only wanted to nip in for a second, to grab coffee and a pastry, but then Alicia got a phone call, and Mrs Alderman started talking to him in the queue, and by the time they left his goddamn coffee had gone cold.

They clamber inside, Alicia pushing a few files onto the backseat as Pedro stares. “I almost died, you know,” he quips, half muffled as he takes a bite of his croissant. He hums at the taste, light and buttery; maybe it had been worth it.

Alicia rolls her eyes, used to his antics by now. “I was on the phone to the BBC. They’ve confirmed who you’ll be on The Graham Norton Show with.”

“They have? Who?”

He generally felt nervous going on the big chat shows, especially with how in demand he'd been recently. But Graham had been so warm, especially for his first time on the show, that when they asked him to come back he'd accepted without hesitation.

And really, he was quite looking forward to it.

Alicia doesn't seem quite as excited though. She flips open her notepad, littered with delicate but hasty scribbles of various projects and dates, and begins to read out the names.

“Robert Downey Jr, he’s promoting Oppenheimer.”

“I'm gonna meet Iron Man?” Now he was nervous.

“Kate McKinnon. She's in the Barbie movie, I think.”

“Amazing.” He'd always wanted to meet her.

“And…” she sighs. “(Y/N) (L/N).”

“Who?” No seriously, who?

Alicia snaps her head up to look at him. Surely he didn’t not know who she was? “(Y/N) (L/N)? The singer?”

Pedro just shakes his head, unbothered. “Nah, never heard of her. She any good?”

“No, Pedro, that’s the point.” He cocks an eyebrow, gesturing for her to continue as she looks back and forth between him and her notes. “She’s a publicist’s worst nightmare. She’s the lead singer of this band, The Heartbreakers, they’re huge. Like, Taylor Swift-huge. But if Taylor Swift did heavy metal.”

“And why don't we like her?” he asks.

“Because she’s trouble. She’s had big drug problems, she argues with everyone, she goes on stage and pulls all these crazy stunts. She’s always in the news, Pedro.”

He can’t help but think she sounds like fun.

“Can’t be that bad, right? If she’s that famous?”

Alicia shakes her head, “she's famous, but that doesn’t mean she’s not dangerous. People love you right now, Pedro. I’m just concerned that if you’re seen to be… friendly with her, people will raise their eyebrows. It won’t look good.

He thinks for a second. It really wasn’t in his nature, this whole PR thing. He liked meeting new people, and listening to them, and connecting. Maybe not Mrs Alderman - and now he's thinking about that nightmare again - but, for the most part, yes; Pedro liked people.

And not giving someone a chance because of his public image didn’t feel right.

Alicia sees the cogs turning in his brain, so she flips the pad closed, giving him her full attention now. “I know it’s strange, but I mean it. It’s not a hole you want to get dragged into. Her fandom is huge, the media's obsessed with her, parents hate that their kids listen to her and kids love to piss off their parents by listening to her. I’m going to speak to them about getting you sat on the opposite end of the couch... I just want to make sure you’re not linked with her. Trust me.”

With that, he nods his head. He does trust her - at the end of the day, he didn’t even know who this (Y/N) person was. So what if he didn’t speak to her much on the show?

—------

“WHAT?!”

He had to pull the phone away as Bella’s near-screech pierced his ears. They yell again, something along the lines of “are you serious? Pedro, are you serious?!”

“Yes I’m serious, what’s the big-”

“Oh my god I can’t believe it! You’re going to meet (Y/N) (L/N)! Will you mention her to me? I saw her tweet once that she watched the show and oh my god I need her to follow me on Instagram-”

“Wait, Bella, wait,” Pedro rubs his thumb and forefinger between his brows, not exactly thrilled that what was supposed to be a call to calm his nerves the night before the show was now filled with so much rowdiness. “I don’t even know who she is! You listen to her?”

They gasp, and he just knew they were pulling a dramatic, jaw-dropped face on the other end of the line. “Come on man, I know you’re not the hippest guy around but you have to know who she is!”

He giggles, throwing his hands in the air. “‘Fraid not, Bella. I’ve no clue. I do know i’m not supposed to talk to her though.”

Now there was a real gasp, not the purposefully dramatic kind. “What? Pedro, you can’t not talk to her. You have to. She’s the coolest person, like, ever.”

Pedro scoffs, “what about me?”

“When you get sleeve tattoos and banned from performing at the VMAs, you might get considered dude.”

“She was banned from the VMAs?”

You know that feeling, when someone tells you not to do something, and you don’t want to do anything else?

Yeah, that.

“I’ll send you the link, it was so cool. She said she’ll be allowed back next year anyway 'cos they need her to stay relevant.” He giggles again at that, and yeah, he couldn’t deny his intrigue.

“So that’s why you like her? She's all rebellious and stuff?” Pedro chews on his thumb as he asks, the anxiety of tomorrow not quite forgotten, but listening intently as Bella rants on.

“Nah, I mean she is controversial, but I just think she’s amazing. She acts all tough and rock 'n' roll, but she's really great deep down. I went to see her band once a couple of years ago, and this girl fainted so she stopped the whole show to make sure she got water and was okay. She’s just misunderstood, man.”

“Is it true she’s a drug addict?” He's not sure why he felt the need to ask. Why he cared. Maybe it was just to build a better picture, or maybe because Bella loves her so much, and he cares about their interests. Maybe, he had a sort of… concern, for her. For this enigma.

They knew each other well, and Bella could sense Pedro’s interest. More than anything, they were just excited to tell him about their favourite singer. “She used to be, it was crazy. She’d go on stage high and everything, people really hated her then. But she’s been sober now for, like, a year? She talks about it a lot. This is what I mean dude - everyone remembers all those shitty things but I think she’s so strong.”

He hums in agreement, thinking back to Alicia’s warning a few days earlier.

“Do you think it’d be bad? If I talked to her?”

It was Bella taking a moment’s pause, now. “I mean… Alicia’s not wrong. She’s not exactly got the cleanest image a celebrity’s ever had. I guess it’s up to you to decide what matters most.”

It was quite profound really, and Pedro was reminded of just how mature they were for their age.

“The most important thing is that you give her my instagram handle.”

And just like that, the moment’s gone. He laughs, shaking his head and muttering “you’re a dick”, before falling into conversation about other things. He fully intended to look up (Y/N) (L/N) before he fell asleep, but the hours went by quick and soon enough he'd drifted off, phone in hand and tomorrow's nerves dispelled for now.

—------

Maybe this whole Graham Norton thing was a bad idea.

Pedro was tired.

It had been a long flight to London, a long drive from the airport to his hotel. And a long, long wait at the studio before they even thought about getting filming started.

He’d been in hair and makeup for a good while, and according to Alicia, it would still be another two hour’s wait until they got him sat on the big red couch.

Yeah, he was tired.

He steps out, the muddied skies of London painting a grey-cast shadow on his face, the frosty winds hitting his skin. It was nice. Different. Much harsher than the LA sun he was used to.

He looks around; it’s just him there in the car park, leant against the windowsill and letting his eyes drift shut. It’s peaceful, and if it weren’t for the rushing of the motorway that ran just beside him, he’d almost feel alone.

“Mind if I join?”

He jolts awake, startled out of his near-tranquility, facing the woman who’d crept outside through the same doors he did. She was casually dressed, far more so than the BBC staff he’d seen today; she must be a temp, or an intern or something. A heavy black hoodie swallows her frame, and he wished he had a similar one as his ice-cold breath fell into the air. His eyes draw upwards, and he thinks to himself just how pretty she is. (Y/H/C) hair is bundled in her hood, loose strands blowing messily in the wind. She has no makeup on, so he can see greyish bags hung under her eyes, her lips stained pink, a soft blush blooming over her cheeks from the frosty air. There’s a roughness to her, something harsh, and it makes her so utterly alluring.

“Yeah- yes, of course. Of course.” He offers a smile, and she smiles back, and his heart races.

He shuffles to the left, unsure of why he’s making room for her on the windowsill; they’re outside, he’s a stranger. There’s a bench not far from the door, perfectly fit for her to sit on. And yet she follows his movements, and leans against the porcelain outline of the large window, searching for something in her pockets.

“D'you smoke?” She produces a pack of cigarettes, and digs out a lighter from her back jean pocket. Pedro watches as she slips one of them between her lips, covering the end with delicate hands as she lights it, revelling in the taste and taking a long drag. He notices then her long black nails, perfectly painted and delicately holding the cigarette in place, elegant and weapon-like at the same time.

There’s a nonchalance to everything she does, and it’s enticing. She doesn’t look at him when she asks, or when she expels the smoke from her lungs, keeping her eyes set forward and undoubtedly feeling the weight of Pedro’s on her face.

He forgets he’s supposed to answer.

“Er, no, thank you. I’m being good.” He offers her a smile, forced as he tries to remember his own whereabouts, too entranced by the beauty and the charisma that fell from this woman in droves.

The two are silent for a little while, he can’t be too sure how long. He smells the smoke from beside him, sees the wisps drawl from her tongue and into the cool air, and for someone who considered himself rather charming, he couldn’t for the life of him think of something to say.

He doesn’t have to.

“What're you doing out here, then?”

And this time she is looking at him. They’re sat close, and his eyes meet hers with ease, warm and welcoming. He feels a little more comfortable now, like she’s a friend; her warmness makes it hard to feel anything other than at peace.

He smiles, bashful. “I’m working.”

“Working?”

He looks down at his shoes, rubbing them against one another. It was always a strange conversation to have, explaining who he was to people who didn’t know. It felt like showing off a little; more than anything, he didn’t want to make a big deal of it.

“Yeah, I, uh… on the show.”

She giggles, and it sounds so sweet that his tummy heats up. “I’m only kidding. I know who you are. The Last Of Us, right?”

There’s a sincerity to her tone, nothing like this thick, false charm people try to use when they know he’s famous. It didn’t feel like she wanted anything from him in that moment. He nods, looking back up at her and his breath hitches when they immediately lock eyes again. Her lips are turned into a sly smile, cheeky almost, and he can’t help but grin back.

“I liked that show,” she says before taking another long drag.

“Thank you. That means a lot to me. Makes this fuckin’ huge press tour worth it.”

She laughs. Not the quiet giggle she gave him before, but a proper laugh, one that makes her eyes brighter and her nose scrunch up. Pedro laughs too, caught up in her, and when their chuckles die down they relax into a comfortable silence for a few moments before he turns to her again and asks, “how about you? Are you on the production team?”

She ponders her answer. It’s the first time - in the 10 minutes since they’d met - that she’d seemed to falter. Like she was unsure. “Yeah, you could say that.”

He didn’t push it. Maybe his fame was a problem. Did she feel overwhelmed? Or judged? He didn’t know - but a twang of sadness settled in his gut, and he wondered what to say next.

She recovers quickly, though. Stands back up a little straighter, puts the butt of her cigarette out against the wall, and faces him once again. “You seem nervous."

Pedro chuckles, nervously. “Am I that obvious?”

“Only when you scuff your shoes within an inch of their life and readjust your glasses every 10 seconds.”

“And here I thought I hid it well.” Cocking an eyebrow, the woman looks at him knowingly and tilts her head, encouraging him to go on.

“I always get nervous before these things... it feels worse this time, though. I just know Robert Downey Jr is gonna think I’m so weird, and then there’s this other lady I gotta avoid-”

“Who?”

She was abrupt, quickly apologising for interrupting him. He didn’t mind. “She’s like this... musician? I think. I’m sure you’ll know who she is. I’m awful at keeping up with whatever the kids are doing now. (Y/N)- (Y/N) something.”

There was a pause, awkwardly long. “My assistant says I gotta stay away from her” her continues, feeling a need to fill the gap. “Just doesn’t feel right to me, you know? To judge someone like that before you’ve even met them?”

He watches as she nods her head, deep in thought. She meets his eyes and nods again, faster, showing to him now that she agrees. She understands. He’s not quite sure how she understands, but he believes her; she didn’t strike him as the dishonest sort.

Pedro’s phone vibrates in his pocket, startling them both and they share another soft laugh. He grabs it, seeing Alicia's text flash on the screen - You’ve got a meeting with the producers to go over filming. 10 minutes. Ah shit.

“Everything okay?” There’s concern in her voice, and Pedro wonders if she knows he has to go. If she’s just as disappointed as he is.

“Yeah, yeah. I just - I gotta go.”

She’s definitely disappointed. He knows because her bright eyes fall the same way his did.

He’d never quite felt like this; like a magnet was drawing him to someone and like it would hurt in his soul to let her go. It occurred to him then, he didn’t even know her name, and he’d be damned if he was going to crawl back into the world of PR and publicity stunts and rehearsed answers without finding it out.

“It was nice to meet you. I don’t know if you- you want to get a coffee? Or something? After filming?”

The same harsh edge she had when they met, the one that had slipped and softened as they talked, seemed to have crept back as a once-sweet smile became that sly, cautious smirk. He couldn’t quite understand what she was thinking, what the cogs that so clearly turned in her mind were churning up, but he knew he didn’t care as long as he got to see her again.

“I’d like that.” Pedro sighs in relief, smiling again and sticking out an ice-bitten hand. “I’m Pedro.”

She giggles, offering her own hand and he stalled at the feeling of her fingers wrapped around his own. “I know.” She retorts, and he laughs, and just when she opens her mouth to tell him her own name-

“Pedro! We gotta go!”

Alicia shoves the door open, not even looking up from her phone which was presumably inundated with countless emails and phone calls, and Pedro sighs before looking desperately into the still nameless women’s eyes. She just smiles, dropping his hand and digging hers into her pockets. “Go on. I'll catch you later.”

He nods, swallowing and offering a small, regretful smile before pushing himself off the wall and following Alicia back inside. She huffs at him, speeding back off down the corridor and muttering something along the lines of “these goddamn producers”. He looks back a final time, to where the woman still sits in the windowsill. She waves, and he grins, unable to hide the childlike excitement her little gesture gave him before waving back and letting the door shut behind him.

—------

“We’ve got a fantastic show for you tonight, ladies and gentlemen. Let’s get some guests on!”

Pedro hears the roar of the audience, only a single wall between them and him as he waits to hear his name. He looks around the room; Robert and Kate are stood with him, chatting away at something he’d stopped listening to a little while ago. He felt better now he’d met them - they were lovely, so down to earth and genuinely happy to chat to him and hear what he had to say. It made him less nervous, and you might even say he was looking forward to this now.

There was no sign of her though. The singer - (Y/N). Alicia had scoffed, “typical,” just 10 minutes earlier, when there had been no sign. And she still wasn’t here.

“We’ve got the newly Emmy-nominated actor, best known for his amazing roles in The Mandalorian and HBO’s The Last Of us,” the audience’s roars got louder, “Mr. Pedro Pascal!”

It’s time.

He pulls his suit jacket a little tighter around himself, laying his palm flat against the bottom of his chest. With the other hand, he waves, smiling brightly at the crowd who cheered him on. Graham greets him, pulling him in for a hug and welcoming him back, before pointing him towards the end of the couch. Pedro gives the audience a final wave, mouthing ‘thank you’s and trying to express his gratitude for the love that filled the room.

Kate and Robert came next, shaking his hand and ‘introducing’ themselves again, despite the fact he’d already met them an hour earlier. A producer runs up to Graham, whispering something in his ear before darting off in the other direction. Graham rolls his eyes playfully, turning towards the audience and announcing, “we’ve got a late one!” The audience laugh, and Graham just organises his cue cards as producers usedthe extra time to prepare the camera angles and get the lighting right.

Graham looks at the couch, smiling with a wink. “Don’t worry - she’ll be here in a minute.”

“Is this (Y/N) again?” Robert asks, grinning.

“You’ve met her?” Pedro jumps in, falling into small talk among the four of them.

“A couple of times now yeah,” Robert replies. “I think she’s great, really funny. She's just… not the most put together person.”

They laugh, and Kate recounts her own story of having to wait on some celebrity or another, entertaining the crowd.

Graham parts from the conversation after around 10 minutes, holding a finger to his ear piece and nodding at whatever he was being told from the other end of the line. He stands up, smiling wide and turning to the audience, “she’s here! We have our rockstar ready.”

Cheers immediately erupt, and Graham turns to the guests to check they’re all ready to carry on with the show. Pedro nods, anticipation building as he spots Alicia from the corner of his eye, keeping watch.

“And don’t worry everyone, we’ll cut that little intermission out!” The room laughs. “Now I’m very glad introduce our last, but certainly not least, guest of the night. She’s the lead singer of Grammy-nominated band The Heartbreakers, she’s one of the most famous women in the world right now, and she’s only a tad terrifying. Ladies and gentleman, please welcome - (Y/N) (L/N)!

The audience becomes the loudest they’ve been all night, standing and yelling as the final guest takes the stage, and -

Fuck.

Fuck, fuck, fuck.

It’s her. The woman from outside, the one he’d been thinking about all afternoon. The one whose name he never learned.

She looks different; she looks like the woman he’d been warned about. She looks dangerous. Where a black hoodie had hung from her shoulders, a black lace dress now clung to her figure and he could see the tattoos that littered her sleeveless arms. The bags under her eyes were gone, as was the pink on her cheeks; her skin was painted, perfected, sculpted with darker shades and glowing radiantly. Her lips were black and glossy, so neatly done that she almost looked like a doll. Thick eyeliner carried a smoky shadow across her eyelid and beyond, drowning the same (Y/E/C) eyes he’d memorised in black.

She was ethereal.

And she was his one, single instruction for the night. Don’t get involved in her.

She waves at the audience, smirking in the same sly way she’d done to him earlier; he saw more clearly that they were the same now. She has the same charm, same charisma, same allure and yet she seems all the more potent now as she strides across the stage in 6 inch heels and pulls Graham into a tight hug, like old friends. She whispers something in his ear, and he throws his head back with a laugh before she saunters to the couch, where the three guests stand up to greet her. She and Kate introduce one another with a kiss on the cheek and a warm smile, before she gives Robert another tight hug and they share a word that Pedro can hear now. “I have to stay here an extra 10 minutes ‘cos of you” Robert quips, causing (Y/N) to pull back and look at him with a cocked brow.

“You know I’m worth it, Downey.”

With that, she turns to face Pedro, and his breath hitches the same way it did when they’d first met. Her grin falters slightly, and there it is again; that honesty. She almost seemed like she was putting on a show, with her slow saunter and cheeky remarks, but there was nothing false about the way she wrapped her arms around him and looked into his eyes.

“My name’s (Y/N).”

He just laughs. He can’t help it. She makes him feel giddy. “I know.”

The audience’s applause dies down, and (Y/N) takes her spot as the star guest, and the first on the couch closest the Graham. He talks between them and the crowd, commenting on what a great line up they had today, despite certain delays, which has the audience howling again. (Y/N) laughs with them, shaking her head and pretending to cover her face with her hand, before looking up at Graham and saying, “I’m sorry! I’m sorry, okay? I got held up!”

“Well you have to tell us what happened,” Graham retorts, and they banter as (Y/N) recounts getting stuck in the backstage toilets. She has everyone wrapped around her finger, listening to everything she says and laughing at her jokes, and Pedro can’t find himself believing the warnings Alicia had given him.

He remembers Bella, and how much praise they had for her, and he gets it. He sees what they see.

“Well you’re here now, that’s all that matters. We actually haven’t seen you for a while!”

(Y/N) nods, her demeanour becoming slightly more serious. “No, it’s been a strange few months.”

Graham continues, “the last time you were on the show was 2021. And obviously as most of us here know, you've had quite a difficult time since then, right? Tell me how you’ve been.”

She takes a sharp breath, and Pedro could’ve sworn she glanced up at him before she answers. “Well, yeah. I’m sure it’s no surprise to anyone that I was struggling with addiction for… most of my career, really.”

“‘No surprise’?” - Graham interjects - “you used to get high on stage!” It seemed judgemental, but it quickly became clear that he and (Y/N) had that sort of friendship, the kind where you can talk to one another so blatantly. She purses her lips at him, and he giggles, which makes her break the feigned offence and giggle too.

“Look, man, that’s rock and roll.” The room laughs again. “No but seriously, yeah, it just got worse and worse until… well, you know what happened. it was hard. But I’ve gotten clean, I haven’t touched that shit in what, 8 months?” The crowd launch into cheers and applause, echoed by Graham and the other guests. Pedro could see how much it meant to her, how she tried to keep a stoic appearance despite the tears beginning to glisten in her eyes. She mouths a thank you, and he longs to skip right past Robert and Kate to be by her side, to hold her. She recovers quickly, something Pedro notes she seems to do a lot; cover her moments of weakness as soon as they start. Instead she sits up straighter and jokes, “I think everyone’s worried I’m gonna be boring now, without the drugs.”

Graham laughs, “I mean, you are known for being one of the more controversial artists out there.”

“If anything, I think being high slowed me down. I’m just gonna get worse, now.”

“Oh god, don’t say that,” Graham jokes, “you’re going on tour again soon, I’m not sure we can handle it.”

The audience cheer even louder at the mention of the tour, making (Y/N)’s smile grow wider. “Yep, new album, new tour. It’s all happening.”

Graham turns to Pedro suddenly, as if remembering he had three other guests to rope into the conversation. “Do you listen to this sort of music, Pedro? The Heartbreakers?”

And, shit. Pedro can feel Alicia’s eyes burning into him from off-stage, and he recalls her warnings about this very situation.

Don’t make friends with her

Don’t give the media something to talk about

Don’t ruin your reputation

And yet, her voice got quieter and quieter in his head, as the sound of (Y/N)’s laugh and the pierce of her eyes became all he could think about. The decision was pretty easy to make, really.

“I actually hadn’t heard of them, until today.” Graham chuckles at his reply. “But I think I’ll have to start listening.”

The crowd cheer, and the pair lock eyes for what could’ve only been a few seconds, but felt like so much longer. She tries to fight the way the corners of her mouth pull upwards, white teeth poking through painted black lips, but when she sees him smiling back at her she lets them go and drowns in the butterflies she’s so unused to feeling.

God, he was in so much trouble.

#pedro pascal #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal x y/n #pedro pascal x yn #pedro pascal x you #joel miller #joel miller x reader #joel miller x yn #joel miller x y/n #joel miller x you #poeticbarnes writes #my stuff #my writing #pedro pascal oneshot #pedro pascal fluff

707 notes · View notes

turbulentscrawl · 10 months

Note

Most to Least "how often they say I love you" please! Can you include Ithaqua and Antonio in it? I don't care who else, surprise me!

Yup yup yup!

MOST 🔻

Emma says it regularly throughout conversation, and with most hellos and goodbyes. For some people, it might be too much, but she means it every time.

Ithaqua says it several times whenever either of you has to go, to kiss up when you’re upset with him, and as part of his case whenever he wants to convince you not to do something.

Victor signs off every letter to you, big or small, with some form of it. He says it less verbally, but always during meaningful moments.

Eli doesn’t want to go overboard and says it just a little above average. He’s a bit of a romantic and has a very good sense for when are the best times to lay it on you. It’s very sweet!

Antonio probably sets the standard for this, honestly. Once a day is his average, but he also says it whenever he’s exasperated with you. (Both as a reminder to himself to be patient, and as a signal for you to ease up on him.)

Aesop is also pretty average, though it sounds choked about half the time. He finds it a little embarrassing to say it, but since he knows it’s an important part to romantic relationships, he forces himself to say it more than is natural for him. But don’t feel bad, you’re worth the discomfort.

Naib is a little scared to. “I love you” makes it real, and real hurts even more if something happens to you. That said, he knows he can’t let his fear rule over an important aspect of the relationship like that. He takes longer than most to say it for the first time, but after that says it reasonably often, like once every few days. He always says it before one of you enters a match, too.

Kevin is perhaps a bit shocking because he is such a flirt. He just busies his mouth with so many other compliments that “I love you” doesn’t get to slip out as much. If you ever mention that it’s been a while since he’s said it, he starts tripping over himself to shower you with it.

Norton just forgets a lot of the time. Actions speak louder than words, as far as he’s concerned, so telling you verbally isn’t something that crosses his mind. He will get better with time if you communicate that it’s an issue for you.

Joseph thinks you’re just supposed to know, honestly. He says it only in private, deeply meaningful moments and nothing more than that. He doesn’t really care if it’s an issue that he says it so sparingly…unless you cry. Then he might care a little.

LEAST 🔺

#idv x reader #identity v x reader #emma woods x reader #ithaqua x reader #victor grantz x reader #eli clark x reader #antonio paganini x reader #aesop carl x reader #naib subedar x reader #kevin ayuso x reader #norton campbell x reader #joseph desaulnier x reader #turbulentscrawl

395 notes · View notes

athanasius-symposium-of-writings · 9 months

Text

All I Have Is Yours

Chapter One

Rated Explicit | Warning: Usual period drama

Ao3

Chapter Two

“I could take everything and leave you with nothing. Your only choice would be to work at a brothel.” The prospector's words are cold, sharp as the metal of a newly made pickaxe.

“Would you… Visit me?” There you sit in the carriage-style automobile with Norton beside you, “I would hope you will allow me to still show my love for you.” Shy as you look down and toy with the button on your coat. “For free of course! I don't deserve a cent of your money.”

Norton frowns, his grip on his knee pressing hard enough his blunt nails are digging into the fabric of his new pants. A full suit with a long coat, something he never thought he would ever afford let alone own.

You place your hand on top of his, gloveless so he can feel the warmth of your hand, “I love you, Mr. Campbell. I do not expect it in return but I hope you do not mind my love for you.”

He stares at the wedding ring on your finger, it matches his own. A simple design, gold, and he weighs on him for he is using it to keep you on a leash. A leash you happily put on yourself as you hand him the control and power he always wanted. No, Norton wants security and not have to fight for scraps every day of his life!

Norton sneers as he hisses out with venom yet it holds no potency, “Pathetic.” His head turns towards the window but his eyes are on you, the sweet smile on your pretty face he can see through the window reflection. You would– Have given him everything.

The paperwork was completed, the marriage certificate was signed, and just recently he got to see your father's company as the owner. It was in vigoring.

The arrival to the manor, his manor now, couldn't happen sooner. From what he read in the newspaper about your father, he built this place in honor of your mother who passed after your birth. The article says he put his ‘blood, sweat, and tears’ into this place but Norton has seen your father’s hands. That man has never seen a day of hard labor in his life.

The driver stops in front of the entrance to first let you out then Notorn, a bow follows and they return to the car to park in the back. You stand beside your husband, hand nervous to hold his.

A sharp whistle comes from those no longer chapped lips, “All this is mine.” Greed.

“I do hope you like it here.” You stay following him to the door where the butler opens it and slightly bows as he delivers a form greeting and welcome.

Then your husband slams the door on you, right in front of your face.

“Do not let that waste of space in!” He ordered the butler as he took off his coat and tossed it to the maid who stood there utterly shocked and holding his coat in her waiting arms.

There is silence as he stands there with his fist clenching and unclenching, a rage that spilled threats to take him. He breathes in and out, slowly as he counts. His right hand touches his left hand where he feels your lingering warmth, those pretty eyes of yours that easily express your love for him.

The prospector has won, he has everything that bastard owned all in his name, he even has you as an insult to injury. You, pretty you, this wedding ring is based on a drawing you made and hoped he liked before commissioning it to be crafted.

“Damn it.” Hating himself at the moment, his head turning slightly at the door is so brutally closed on you with the adding insult of ordering the butler to not open it for you. Worse is there is no knock from you or so much as a peep of distress. Self-punishment? Were you expecting him to be a cruel husband? One who would give you a cold shoulder and an even colder bed? Norton’s hands clinched into fists has he hated the idea of proving such a thing right, would it not be better if he had you fonding over him while your father rolled in his grave? Worse is when you have his children! Your father’s name will die with him and the Campbell name will takeover everything all things the bastard made.

You stood there for a while, it is cold out here too, but you waited. Then you sit down at the entrance and look up at the clouds, you pretend each cloud has a story. Childish, maybe, but you lived a sheltered life and your only form of freedom was gazing upon the cloud outside of rooms you often lingered in.

A cold wind blows, the first snowfall starts and you smile wide as you stand up with your hands open to catch the snowflakes.

The door opened, the light limited by the tall body blocking it, “Get inside.” When you heard him, you jumped a bit. He hates that, which makes him feel bad even though he clings to his hatred. It was easy when he just saw your father; when he was digging through dirt. Now he finds himself both given power and control willingly by the silver spoon-fed child of that asshole.

“Thank you!” Polite. He wants to make you cry. “Tsk.” Ignoring how you are shivering yet not moving after from the door once inside. “Well! Go get warmed up.” He moves to the side letting you pass him, he can smell the perfume you wore today and see the snowflakes that got caught in your hair. So beautiful and his.

“Okay.” You leave to go upstairs.

The butler is giving him a nasty look.

Norton avoids you the rest of the day until dinner is served in the dining area. A dining area, the type he had seen only once when he was looking through a window of a house when he was cold and alone a New Year’s Day. A party as everyone celebrated… He wished he threw that brick at that damn window to this day.

As the former miner sits here with you at the opposite end of the fairly wide table, the dinner is prepared in a lovely display. It looks gluttonous how much there is for just the two of you— He doesn't know where to start so he looks to you only to see you are served something different.

The servants give you soup after seeing you more than once sniffling and coughing. Oh… He glances away silently cursing himself knowing what he did likely has gotten sick.

“(Name),” He cannot help the pain in his chest when you gaze upon him like he is the most beloved creature you have ever seen. “...” Looking away embarrassed.

“I understand.” You say.

“No, you don’t.” He says with a bitter laugh, “Your pops made sure you would not have to understand.”

This is true, your father kept you safe, clothed, fed, and loved; though his love could be overbearing and controlling. Your life was schooled, and mapped out, and you had no say in the changes and decisions made. It was only after his death did you make your first choice. In the hospital you found Norton there covered in bandages and casks, there you told him your proposal.

“Do you like it?” Watching him at first take cautious bites then becoming ravenous. Grabbing the plates, and though he did his best to have table manners, he ate a grand portion of the food made.

He is about to speak but stops himself the second he does, Norton nods his head as swallows the food in his mouth, “Not bad.”

You chuckle at his words.

#idv #idv x you #idv reader insert #idv x reader #idv prospector #reader insert #ao3 fanfic #norton campbell #norton campbell x reader #norton campbell x you #identity v x you #identity v x reader #idv norton

174 notes · View notes

didalexiabreakupwitholgayet · 2 months

Text

kika! 🥰 speaks catalan, sings opera, says aitana is the best player she's ever faced, and confirms she and ellie are new besties!

a: good morning! i'm kika (in catalan), switches to spanish for rest of interview 🥹

q: what is your best football memory?

a: i have several. winning the championship with benfica at estádio da luz, playing in the world cup, and signing for barça.

q: the most special goal in your career?

a: a special goal…with benfica we were losing against braga and i missed a penalty, and then i scored the third winning goal.

q: who is the best player you have faced?

a: aitana

q: and the best you have played with?

a: (andreia) norton

q: who is your childhood idol?

a: aimar

q: what is your favorite song?

a: i don't have a song, i have an artist, billie eilish.

q: any hobbies you have?

a: playing padel.

q: any hidden talent?

a: singing opera.

q: who is your best friend from the team so far?

a: so far? ellie.

source: @mariatikas on twitter

#kika nazareth #maria tikas #fcb femení #futfem #woso #ellie roebuck

130 notes · View notes

sunflower1experiment · 11 months

Text

Fool’s gold

I assumed it to be strange, the journalist was a nosy one. Always asking questions, why did I come here, she already knew my background as is: What’s the point of prying further!?

Herbalist; |Name| Praia, It was complicated on my end with the job I had to help the sick with just herbs was different, difficult. Even the black lung plagued the country with its rounds, just feeding people calming herbs to calm the pain wasn’t enough for the inevitable death so I made sure to give them those before passing.

Writing down their signature consent, that way if anyone accused me I could show my proof: yet it never calmed my nerves seeing someone die, and I could not stop it. So I called myself the painless death, people won’t suffer as long as I’m able to calm them down.

But when Norton and I first met it was as if he held respect for me, when even he knew that I loathed myself. He told me, “Life happens, people die. Best to move on.” Such a statement.

As if he was so used to seeing death. My inner self as a child was coming back to haunt me, saying he was right and though I may not have had a bad childhood, sometimes I relish in what my parents said about me. ‘My little herbal remedy!’

Is that why?

I get up weakly, then gasp at the sight. Running towards Alice, she falls forward in my arms and I immediately grab a few herbs, Ashwagandha: scientific name for it but in other cases its used as a powder to wake up from when drinking warm milk or water. She didn’t wake up immediately but showed signs to be conscious.

Looking up to the perpetrator my eyes widen, “Nort….”

My body freezes when the pickaxe flies past me, hitting the dirt but without even thinking about my surroundings I ran. Grasping for whatever reason to not believe it was him, poor Alice she was abruptly taken by me and we’re both stumbling around this curse of a woods.

Suddenly she pushes me back and we both scream as he charges past. Alice gasps would fill my ears while my grunts turn into gasps of horror as Norton hobbles towards me. I get up, backing away to avoid him.

However, when I try to leave the man’s larger hand grabs my face and he leans in. A shaky sigh leaves my lips as he kept all his focus onto me. My breathing starts to falter while he began rubbing his thumb over it slowly.

A raspy chuckle erupts from him when he saw how I react, he presses his lips onto mine. My eyes widen, his iron grip pulling me close as I try to keep the space between us, once we pull back there was a moment of soft breathing.

“You’re the woman that calmed the pain on my eye…” he sets the pickaxe down, hugging me in the process. “How could I not recognize you?”

“Norton, what’s happening?”

He walks me to a mirror in the hut, I look at the mirror in silence until he wraps a hand around my neck and his face came to view. “To you I look scary but to me…you’re normal. And I can’t help but want to chase you..”

We look at each other until he lets my neck go. “Come on.” Following behind him I start to wonder where Alice went…

—

“Woah.” I gasp, then get up. Only to stop when Norton’s soft whines fill my ears, laying back with a relieving smile. My hands reach over absentmindedly and I stroke his head. “It was just a dream, that was very silly of me to be afraid of you my sweet Prospector.”

I gave him a small kiss on the cheek then go back to sleep.

#x black reader #reader is gender neutral #reader is any race #idv norton x reader #norton campbell x reader #norton campbell #idv x reader

232 notes · View notes

sreyaya · 4 months

Text

Just One Night

Idol AU | Norton Campbell x F!Reader NSFW

Content warning: creampie, rough sex, sex for a favor, light latino Norton headcanon, dick describing, 2K words, MDNI

(A/n: my masterpiece, i'm so proud of this,,,I LOVE NORTON ARGH)

smut under the cut!

Ah yes, the infamous City Dome Concert, held only once every four years, making it one of the most prestigious events for upcoming and rising artists. As the saying goes, if you make it to the Dome, you'll be known. Everyone wanted to be there, including you, yourself.

Being the leader of a devoted band for so long has taken its toll on you. Endless nights spent songwriting and recording, vocal practices, and band meet-ups have become your daily routine, but oh well, it was all expected, you signed up for this and the Dome Concert is everything you need, the last step to your dreams, an important stepping stone before making it big. When your band landed at the top of the pending list, everything seemed to fall apart so suddenly.

And of course, as usual, Norton Campbell, one of the more globally famed band members, and his band stood at the top, just like at every event. It's not like they needed the Dome Concert anymore, you initially thought. With his pleasantly endearing face and fresh set of skills, he could go anywhere, even on the front page of your favorite monthly fashion magazine. It was truly unfair.

It was also unfair that the two of you happened to start at the same spot, same school, same class, being musical rivals for the lead roles. It always ended with you as the lead vocalist and him as the guitarist, but honestly, he just had to flourish more than you did, signing a contract with that stupid well-off idol company and branched out from there. Unfair, you thought again, slamming the magazine with his face on the cover onto the table.

With the upcoming Dome Concert, a preliminary briefing was held, inviting all members from both the approved and pending lists. This made you feel slightly salty, but who knows? Someone might give up their position for the concert tonight, you slightly hoping someone will. With Flashing cameras, paparazzi, and screaming fans waited outside right in front of the hall entrance, Norton's wave of voices being the loudest among them. Clicking your tongue in response, you headed in with the rest of your band members, dispersing once inside the eminent party.

You reached for a glass of white wine, savoring its flavor, refreshing taste as you took frequent sips. Above you, the crystal chandeliers glistened, casting a warm, elegant glow over the room. The venue was blessed like a grand banquet hall, with luxurious decorations and lavish details. You wore your favorite bodycon dress, its design perfectly incinuating your figure and revealing your striking back. Every aspect of the evening, from the wine to your attire, conveying your refined taste and style.

In the midst of the crowd, the laughs and chats of other artists or celebrities, Campbell stood out, already eyeing you with a glass of red wine in hand, a sharp contrast towards your own preference for white. His approach was slow and unhurried, each and every step of his was intended on his black-leather loafers, his well-tailored suit impeccably matched to your elegant garment.

"Why, hello," he chimed, a smirk playing on his lips. "Someone didn't make it to the Dome again this year~", he continued, his grin widening with each word. The tone was all too familiar, one you had come to despise over the years you spent with him.

"Well, I worked my way up here. I can wait for next time," you huffed, a sullen look crossing your face as you placed your glass down with a bit more force than intended.

"Tell you what, I'll give you my spot," he said lightly, another grin following his words. You knew him too well, he wouldn’t give up such a coveted position without wanting something in return.

"What are you implying, Campbell?" Your tone sharpened, suspicion and annoyance mixed in your words as you stared him down, cautious of any tricks up his sleves.

"One night," he said, holding up one finger in front of your face, "One night with me, hermosa."

The world around you seemed to fade away, the noise of the crowd becoming distant. His proposition wasn’t anything new, he had done this a couple of times to you but he never forced you into it, and you weren’t inexperienced either. But Norton? Your childhood friend? It felt strange, but not wrong, the gears in your mind turned rapidly. You needed this position, and he wasn’t the worst anyways.

As you weighed his proposal, your thoughts raced back to your shared history. Norton had always been the golden boy, effortlessly charming and talented, while you had fought for every bit of recognition. His flirtatious remarks, though frequent, had never carried this much weight before. He watched you intently, waiting for your response. The stakes were high, and he knew it. The opportunity to perform at the Dome was a dream, a career-defining moment. Could you set aside your pride, for one night?

Norton leaned in closer, his voice dropping to a whisper. "Think about it. This could be your only chance."

You took a deep breath, your resolve hardening. "Alright, Norton. One night. And i'll get your spot? How can i trust you on this?"

A triumphant smile spread across his face. "Here~" he said, a small envelope, filled with the official invitation inside, to the Dome.

And as promised, that night, you found yourself walking into the mentioned five-star hotel, clutching the keycard Norton had slipped into your hand before disappearing into the crowd. Damn it, Norton, you cursed silently, taking a deep breath before heading inside. As you approached his door, you hesitated, your heart pounding, opening the door there stood Norton in a bathrobe, a satisfied smile playing on his lips.

"Welcome," he said, opening the door fully and gesturing for you to enter his private room. The room was offly neat, different from the boy you grew up with, who never bothered to pick up his laundry or tidy his space, it was trully a surprising improvement.

Without further idle chatter, Norton gently grabbed your chin, leaning in for a kiss by the room door, his eyes searching yours for permission as you responded by pushing your head slightly forward, meeting his lips.

As you kissed, you couldn't help but wonder if this was all about that sudden deal or what you had wanted all along. Why'd you reply to the kiss so soon? Your train of thought was soon stopped as he lifted you effortlessly, his hands gripping your thighs as your legs wrapped around his waist. The kiss deepened, the scent of your shampoo filling his senses, making everything feel hazy.

He carried you to the king-sized bed, laying you down gently. Continuing the kiss, each one was long and deep, filled with unspoken desires. "I've been waiting for you, cariño," he muttered between kisses, his hands roaming over your body, removing your garments one by one.

"Looks like someone's more prepared than I thought," he remarked, eyeing your matching set of black lingerie, his favorite color. Maybe, subconsciously, you DID want this too.

"Ah, cariño, you're going to be the end of me," he gasped out as he removed the last pieces of your clothing, revealing your body to him. Your plump breasts, with blushed nipples bouncing as it grasped away from your upper undergarment, and your soft thighs, meticulously cared for, seemed to drive him insane each following second.

Norton had anticipated this more than you realized. Ever since your debut, he had attended every one of your concerts, silently watching from the VIP row, watching you grow each time. You had never noticed him, but he had always wanted you, waiting patiently for this moment. Now, with you finally in his grasp, he was determined to make you his.

"I would do foreplay, but you just look so captivating in front of me, mami. Let's skip it, shall we?" Norton suggested, his voice thick with lust.

Heat rose to your core as he pulled down his boxers, his member growing at the sight of your naked body. Norton was... well-endowed, his length and girth impressive, veins prominent along the shaft, the tip flushing a deep maroon, not forgetting how well-groomed he is, making him even more irresistible.

Seeing your state, he moved closer, placing both palms on your knees. "Open your legs for me, baby," he murmured, kissing each of your kneecaps tenderly. You surrendered immediately, your tense muscles relaxing as you spread your legs for him. Both his dominance and gentleness was overwhelming for your heart, messing with your thoughts and making you more eager for what was to come.

As Norton positioned himself between your legs, tension crept back in regardless of how experiened you were. The reality of the situation made you anxious by the second, nerve-wrecked. Fucking your childhood friend? But as Norton leaned in for another kiss, you decided to let go of your doubts and bask in the moment, forgetting all about your worries.

He pushed his girth in, feeling every gushy wall of yours warmly wrapped around him. His erection stretched your tight walls, making you bubble up a moan ever so loudly, it was music to his ears. Everything was a haze for him, overstimulation taking over. It didn’t take long before he started moving, your ass slapping against his pelvis, releasing lewd noises that filled you up.

Norton couldn't take his eyes off you. He was impatient, desperate for you. "Tighter—fuck, you're so amazing. You feel amazing," he whimpered out while fucking you senseless. Norton didn’t want to take this one night for granted and used it all to its fullest, pouring his heart into every thrust. Your pussy clamped down on his length, making him shudder each time he pulled it out and slammed back in, his heavy balls slapped against your puffy folds.

"Ay, I'm so crazy for you, corazón," he gasped as you rode him, your breasts bouncing in front of his eyes, you could even feel his member growing even bigger inside you. The air was thick with moans and groans. His hands were firm on your hips, occasionally swaying them outwards and pulling them back in. Your hands caressed his abs, feeling the every chiseled ones as you bounced on his cock. Just how many times have you came tonight?

As the clock had finally hit 3 o'clock, the two of you were in the bathroom, telling yourself it's "cleanup time" but you both ended up asking for more, your legs thrown over his shoulders as he pushed himself in deeper than before. Norton loves to mutter small compliments, mesmerized by how beautiful you looked under him. Your throat was dry from the sounds you’d made all night, and your legs weakened with each passing second.

Everything soon came to an end, the mixture of your juices dripping down from your pussy, sweat making his hair stick to his forehead, making him just more attractive each passing second. He plunged in one last thrust, trying to pull out to release outside. But you, being the cheeky woman that you are, locked your legs around his hips, pushing him back in with the last of your energy. Norton couldn't hold himself back, the tight knot around his abdomen soon all came lose as he released deep inside you. His warm semen smearing all over your puffy walls as he can finally pull out.

"Cheeky much, you're gonna pay for that," he muttered with a giggle soon following. Planting a light kiss on your forehead before lifting you into the bathtub. The water was cold from when you both had left them, but the moment was enough to melt your heart. Was it really about the deal, or was it the unnoticed feelings you had for your childhood friend all these passing years?

Norton carefully cleaned every part of your body, constantly asking if anything hurt. You could only laughed, charmed by his caring side.

"I love you, mi vida."

The whole world seemed to stop for both of you. The water suddenly stilled down, and the dim bathroom lights cast a soft glow on the scene. Your heartbeat quickened, and you swore he could hear it too. He was cradling you from behind, his head resting on your shoulder as he whispered those words out.

"Be mine? Por favor?"

#identity v #identity v fool's gold #idv prospector #identity v norton #idv #idv norton #idv smut #norton x reader #norton campbell #identity v x reader #idv x you #idv x reader #identity v x you

134 notes · View notes