AND I HAVE HAD THE COOLEST IDEA!! Dearest friends, writers, and Henry Cavill fans alike, I've got a Christmas writing prompt list for our one and only!
This strike of genius came while singing to "All I Want for Christmas is You" in the shower.
Without further Ado. I present.
A Very Cavill Christmas!
I've got a list of Henry and characters and associated Christmas songs! and starting today! (Decemeber 1st) to the end of December. I'm gonna post a Fic for each character! and I'd love for you guys to participate too! I'm gonna tag a couple writers I know that I think might like to participate. I thought this would be a fun way to start the holidays and get people into the spirit!
HERE IS MY OFFICIAL LIST
HENRY - JINGLE BELL ROCK
SYVERSON - ALL I WANT FOR CHRISTMAS IS YOU
WALTER - WE NEED A LITTLE CHRISTMAS
AUGUST - HAPPY HOLIDAYS
CLARK - EVERYBODY'S WAITING FOR THE MAN WITH THE BAG
SHERLOCK - THE CHRISTMAS SONG
GERLAT - HAVE YOURSELF A MERRY LITTLE CHRISMAS
MIKE - BABY IT'S COLD OUTSIDE
GUS - RUN RUDOLPH RUN
NAPOLEON - LET IT SNOW
This is my list! if you don't like or don't agree with some of the songs feel free to change them! But again I'd love for people to share this and do this with me. If you see this and you aren't a Henry Fan you can participate too! Switch it out for a Character you do like and have some fun!
If you do decide to this please tag me and Hashtag your post with #averycavillchristmas so we can find all the posts!!
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For those who donât know, Iâve been doing my own adaption on TLOU (The Last Of Us) which involves August & his little brother Mikey.
Iâm stuck on chapter 2 (which is a very important chapter) but Iâm so excited to post Chapter 3 . Itâs funny, angsty, romantic! It has it all. So hereâs my question for yâall:
Should I say fuck it and post Ch.3 and skip Ch. 2 until Iâm ready?
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
â Live Streamingâ Interactive Chatâ Private Showsâ HD Qualityâ Free Actions
Free to watch ⢠No registration required ⢠HD streaming
Pairing: Mike Soprano (original last name, though I donât own or take credit for the character) (Hellraiser: Hellworld) x Female Reader (mentions of reader being short but no other description)
Summary: He was a partier. You were a stereotypical nerd. Nothing should have made you cross paths, but the universe had other plans.
Authorâs Note: As promised in this post, I am writing all the kinktober prompts that I didn't have time to finish for October. Also, this fic title is pulled from the song "Hold Me Down" by Halsey, which I definitely think fits this short story.
Warning(s): toys, some dirty talk, virgin reader, making out, biting, Mike is kind of an asshole
Word Count: 2089
You thought you had been smart about that hiding spot. Annalisaâthe roommate youâve had for three semesters nowânever went anywhere near it, oblivious to the fact that you owned such a thing. But you should have known. Should have been prepared. Because if anyone would find it, it would obviously be Mike Fucking Soprano.
The two of you had been studying for the upcoming organic chemistry test. Mikeâthe infamous partier around campusâhad come to youâthe infamous class nerdâfor study help. He was hanging on by a thread. One more failed test and he would fail this ridiculously hard class. Tonight was your third session. Annalisa had gone out to spend the evening with her boyfriend on the other side of campus, so the two of you were alone in your dorm. You sat at your desk, too busy making calculations in your head to notice what Mike was doing. He had decided the perfect study place was your bed, whichâfine. You didnât want to waste time arguing over where he sat.
âHoly shit!â Mike started laughing from the other side of the room.
You didnât bother to look up. He was no doubt scrolling through social media or hitting up his friends. He had done that halfway through the first two sessions. âYouâre never going to learn anything if you donât stop textingââ
A flick switched on, and then the sound of buzzing filled the room.
You froze. You knew that sound by heart. It set off an automatic reaction in your body. Classical conditioning, as Pavlov would have called it. Your mind associated that sound with pleasure, so you werenât exactly surprised that your body instantly warmed, your heart beating faster. But you were definitely embarrassed.
You glanced over at Mike. He held the wand in his hands, but his eyes were on you, giving you an accusatory look. You swallowed. He could no doubt see how flushed you were.
How the hell had he found it? Had he been searching in the space between your bed and the wall, intent on finding something?
âOur little shortcake is dirtier than she lets on.â The smirk on his face made your heart beat even faster. Nothing good could come from him looking at you like that. Like he had just caught you red-handed.
Shortcake. That was his nickname for you. He had called you that once when he had bumped into you in the hall. Sorry, shortcake, didnât see you there. When he realized how much you hated it, he continued to use the stupid little nickname. Jerk.
You forced yourself to rise to your feet, to swallow, to find your voice. Anything to make it look like you were innocent. âThatâsâAnnalisaâs.â
Mike snorted. âNo, itâs not. She keeps her stash at her boyfriendâs.â
You frowned. âAnd how do you know that, exactly?â
âBecause weâve used it onââ He paused as he realized that he shouldnât finish that sentence.
It took you a second to connect the dots. âYou⌠you used it on her?â
He gave you a guilty smile.
âYou both used it on her?â you gaped.
âYup,â he confessed with such casualty that you knew he wasnât even ashamed.
Youâve only ever read about those in your romance books. You had no idea Annalisa hadâ
No. It didnât matter. It was the twenty-first century. Women were allowed to have sex lives and not be judged for it. So you werenât about to judge her.
Mike switched the vibrator to a higher setting. Your thighs automatically squeezed together. That familiar heat burst to life in your core.
Mike rose to his feet and stalked towards you. It was impossible to hold his gaze. Not just because he held one of your toys in his hands, but becauseâŚ
Because you had a crush on him. You had never said it out loud, but there was no doubt about it. Part of the reason you sat in the front of your chemistry class was so you couldnât be distracted by him. You avoided the quad before lunch because the sight of him throwing a football around with his friendsâseeing those muscles flex beneath that shirt and the way he ran his fingers through his hair when his curls fell in front of his eyesâmade your appetite disappear. You had such a humiliating crush that it made you sick.
Mike stopped a foot away from you. He switched the toy off and you heaved a sigh of relief. Having someone find your toy was one thing, but having it be Mike Fucking Sopranoâ
âDonât be embarrassed.â There was amusement in his tone. He was enjoying this. âItâs kind of sexy, knowing you use this to get off.â
You swallowed. Your vision grew a little blurry as you stared at your sock-covered feet. You felt dumb when you realized that you were wearing socks with strawberries on them. Great. Now he would never stop. Strawberry Shortcake would be so much worse than just Shortcake.
But you couldnât think on it for long because the next second he had his thumb under your chin. He tilted your head back to look him in the eyesâdamn, he was so tall he towered over you and it did things to your insides that you couldnât explainâand you finally noticed that brown spot in his left eye. You couldnât stop staring at it. God, it was beautiful.
âDo you like using this?â he asked you in a voice that made you want to whimper. He motioned to the wand, but you knew exactly what he was talking about. âOr do you prefer being fucked?â
Youâd never heard such crass language. Your face burned as you turned away from him, hoping he didnât see the answer in your eyes.
Mike was slow when it came to academics. But apparently, he saved all that room in his brain for other⌠recreational activities, because it took him less than a minute to put it together. âYouâre a virgin.â
God, this was so humiliating. You were twenty-one years old and still hadnât had sex yet. Normally you didnât care, but standing here, hearing Mikeâthe guy you couldnât speak properly aroundâsay it⌠yeah, humiliating was the only word for it.
âAww, shortcake,â he cooed when he saw you curl in on yourself. âDonât be embarrassed.â
He closed the distance between you again and put your hand on your backâ
Fuck, that felt good. Why did it feel so good?
His fingers trailed down your back until they wrapped around your hip and spun you towards him. âYou know, you could always change that.â
You blinked at him. Was he just casually suggesting that you go out and ask for the nearest guy to take your virginity?
âY-youâŚâ You couldnât even remember how to speak. That idea was completely ludicrous, did he not realize that?
He raised an eyebrow. âMe?â He paused and then, âYeah, why not? Iâm free Sunday night.â
Your jaw dropped. âHow could youâwhat are youâI donâtââ
He brushed a hand across your cheek. âDonât worry about it. If you help me pass next weekâs exam, Iâll consider us even.â
Youâll be even? Like he was providing you a service?
âMaybe I want to stay a virgin!â you protested.
He didnât say anything. Instead, he let his gaze fall to your mouth. You swallowed. Could he hear how loud your heart was pounding? If he kept looking at you like that, you had no doubt that it would burst out of your chest, it was beating so quickly. And when he brought his thumb to your mouth, brushing it across your bottom lip, your knees began to shake. Your entire body burned. Mike Soprano was touching you like this. It had to be a dream. He parted your lips with his thumb and then pushed it inside your mouth until it rested on your tongue.
âSuck it,â he ordered, his voice suddenly low and dark.
You listened. It didnât make sense to you, why he would want his finger in your mouth, but you did it anyways. Your lips wrapped tighter around his thumb, and you swirled your tongue around the skin on the tip of his finger.
âFuck,â he sighed before biting on his lower lip.
Youâd suck on his fingers forever if it meant him looking at you like that. That look in his eyes urged you on. You sucked on his digit with more fervor, feeling like a child licking an ice cream cone in the middle of summer. He caught you looking at him, scanning his face for any sign of approval, and he released a sound that resembled a growl andâfuck, your panties were completely soaked by now.
âGod, baby, you look so pretty with my finger in your mouth,â he breathed.
You couldnât fight back the whimper that escaped you.
Within the span of second he pulled his finger out of your mouth only to replace it with a brush of his own lips. You whimpered as his mouth collided with yours, quickly going from gentle to rough and urgent and completely demanding. His hands moved to your hips. You reached for him, desperate to touch him everywhere at once. You never thought youâd be able to do this with him. It was euphoric. Surreal. It left you breathless and burning. You wanted all of him at once. His tongue pushed past your lips and collided with your own. Oh, god. The taste of himâit was a drug that you instantly knew youâd be desperate to get more of.
You began to fall before you realized that Mike was stepping back and pulling you along with him. Then came a thud, and suddenly you were on the bed. He hovered over you. Your heart was in your throat, and you couldnât speak or think or breathe. All that existed was this perfect man hovering over you, looking at you like he wanted to devour you. The scent of mint and cedarâhis scentâwrapped around you, hypnotizing you even further.
He tried to spread your legs. You let him. Youâve never been touched, not by someone else, but with Mike⌠you wanted to give him everything. He moved between your legs and pressed his hips against your own. You moved towards him, but he didnât kiss you. Instead, he brought his attention to your throat. He licked a sensitive spot below your ear and you moanedâ
And then he bit you and itâyouâwords left you.
Your legs clenched tightly around his as you wrapped yourself around him like a vine. He ground his hips against yours. You whimpered, his name falling from your lips, as you felt his erection press against your core. All you could think of was how it would feel when he first entered you. Would it hurt? Would it feel good?
âGod, I wanna be inside of you,â he breathed against your skin. He began to suck on the spot he had just bit. It stung as he put pressure on that sensitive spot, but after a moment or two the pain became pleasurable.
You whimpered again. The air had grown hot and thick with your desire, but you couldnât find it in yourself to care. Your chemistry homework was long forgotten. This was the only thing you wanted to do for the rest of the night.
âTell me you want this, baby. Do you wanna be with me?â
You nodded because you couldnât exactly remember what words were. He pulled back and looked you in the eyes, checking to make sure you had no doubts. And then he kissed your cheek and rose to his feet. He gathered his notebook and textbook and threw them into his bag.
What the hell had just happened?
âWhat⌠what justâŚâ You still struggled to form coherent thoughts.
He didnât bother to turn to face you as he explained, âYou said you wanted to stay a virgin, so I had to prove you wrong.â
What.
The.
Fuck.
Mike zipped his backpack closed, slung it over one shoulder, and finally turned to you. âIâll be back on Sunday night. We cram for the test and bit, and then Iâll give you a few lessons of my own.â He pointed at your neck. âThat should be healed up by then. If youâre good for me, Iâll give you another one on Sunday.â
Summary: Your parents never liked Mikey. Enough is enough.
Pairing: Guitarist!Mikey x reader/you (2nd person)
Warnings: teen angst, lots of comfort, sweet Mikey being sweet, mentions of fighting with parents, slightly toxic parents, Mikey being called puppy cos thatâs cute
A/N: Soooo... I canât let guitarist!Mikey go. This is the first of possibly many many more oneshots and drabbles involving that cutie.
A/N 2:Little note about the mood board: i know the girls have light hair and are skinny, but thatâs only bc i couldnât find other pictures that i liked. i try to write inclusively, the moodboard does not represent the characters, it merely mirrors the vibe of the story.
Word count: about 1.1k
Title: Guitar Lesson
Enjoy đ and please like, comment and reblog if you liked it, writers live off validation đ
The music is blaring over the speakers as he drives. Heâs mad. Not at you, but over the fact that it had to go like this. Youâre sitting in the passenger seat, quietly sniffling, a bag with your stuff at your feet, another one in the backseat. Youâd go over again in a few days when you know your parents arenât home, and get the rest.
Itâs not that they threw you out, but in a way⌠No. You made that decision. The fighting had gotten worse and you couldnât stand it anymore.
It had started this morning. They came home from their weekend trip late at night, and the next morning, when you went downstairs for breakfast, you had totally forgotten they were there, wearing just a tank top and some shorts. Thing is, you had lied to them about your weekend with Mikey, told them youâd stay at home, working on some stuff for college. You knew what they think about your boyfriend, and didnât want another lecture about how heâs bad for you.
So when they saw the hickeys Mikey had promised not to leave, they were mad. Very mad. The argument ended with you yelling you werenât their baby anymore and that you were allowed to live your own life how you wanted it to, before running up the stairs and packing your bags with your most important stuff. You had locked yourself in your room for most of the day, crying. At some point you texted Mike, asking him to pick you up.
When you tried to sneak out, your parents caught and confronted you, but you left anyway. âYouâll finish college,â your dad had yelled when you got into Mikeyâs car, âMaybe youâll come to your senses!â
So now here you are, in Mikeyâs car, your sniffles gradually turning into sobs as reality sinks in. You did it. You moved out from your parents and their suffocating care. But what now? Youâd be staying with Mike for now. But after that? No clue. Thank fuck you had gotten that job at the little bookshop. But would that be enough to pay any rent? Probably not.
When you make it home, Mikey takes your bags and your hand and leads you up to his apartment and to the couch, getting you a glass of water before hugging you tight and letting you sob into his chest. He lets his hands run up and down your back, rubbing circles to soothe you, while whispering comfortingly about how strong you are and that heâs proud of you.
Still, it takes at least half an hour until your sobs turn into quiet whimpers, then sniffles and then finally die out. Mikeâs white t-shirt is soaked by then. He could easily participate and most likely win in a wet t-shirt contest with how he looks now.
ââm sorry,â you mumble, staring at the wet patch, your voice hoarse from crying.
âItâs okay, sweetcheeks.â He smiles at you and wipes your face with the sleeves of his hoodie. âYou know⌠I wanted to ask you to move in anywayâŚâ he chuckles in an attempt to lift the mood. And it works. It always works. A small smile plays around your lips and you wonder how you got so lucky with Mikey.
âS-so this doesnât bother you?â you ask with a shaky voice.
âAw, babe, no. I mean⌠the sneaking around your parents was hot, but⌠well⌠you see what happened.â He awkwardly scratches the back of his head and you nod, smiling sadly.
âI justâŚâ you start, your lower lip trembling again, âI just wish they would understand. They never even thought about giving you a chance.â
Immediately, his arms are around you again, holding you tightly against him. âShh, shhhh. Itâs okay, baby, shhh,â he whispers, rubbing your back, âDonât cry. Please donât cry, sweetcheeks. Câmon, do you wanna eat something? Letâs order something. You pick.â
âO-okay,â you sniffle, âCan we get pizza?â
An hour later, the two of you are sitting on the carpet in the living room, your back against Mikeyâs chest as you sit between his legs, his guitar in your lap. Heâs gently helping you to place your fingers on the right strings to play the right chords.
âAlright, strum down,â he instructs and you do. The tone is dull, somethingâs not right and your shoulders drop.
âItâs alright, sweetcheeks, just relax your arm a little bit, donât be too tense. Your elbow to your ribs, yes just like that. Your wrist just a little bit forward. Yes, yes, perfect. See, now strum again.â
This time, the chord is clear and you grin.
âAlright, next chord. Start from the bottom, itâs easier. Ring finger on the bottom one. Here, third fret. Yes. Good. Pointer finger, second to top, second fret. Make sure you donât cover any other strings. Perfect. And now stretch that middle finger all across that to the top string, third fret. Now strum.â
Again, the chord is clear. On first try! Your concentrated frown melts into a smile. A smile that widens even more when Mikey kisses you on the cheek in praise.
He teaches you two other chords until your fingertips are red and hurting. But, now you could play a very very simple version of Boulevard of Broken Dreams, the verse part at least. Four simple chords, strum each twice, the rest would come with practice. And he had promised to practice with you. And youâd teach him how to cook more than just noodles and frozen pizza.
You go to bed cuddled together, wrapped up in each other. Heâs your home now.
Mikey has his head on your chest â his favorite for two reasons. One, his head is on your boobs; he loves that. And two, he can hear your heartbeat and how itâs still slightly quicker when youâre with him. Oh, oh and he loves how youâll play with his hair automatically when he lays his head on your chest. So thatâs three. Three reasons.
âPuppy?â you whisper into the dark room, not sure if heâs already asleep.
âHm?â
âThank you so much. For everything. I love you, puppy.â
ââs nothing,â he sleepily whispers back, âLove you too, sweetcheeks.â
You fall asleep with a smile on your face. This transition would be hard, but you know Mikeyâs there to help you through it, to support you in every way. Because heâs so much more than your parents see in him. So much more.