#man flu sebastian :(((

[shadowtriovibes]

fever (what a lovely way to burn)

Pairing: Sebastian Sallow x f!MC

Word Count: 4.8k

Rating: M

Warnings: 18+, aged-up characters, friends to lovers, character with fever/illness, mild sensual content

Summary: request: "since you saved Sebastian from Azkaban, he has met you in the common room every morning and you have gone to breakfast together. One morning he isn't there so you go to his room looking for him to find him in bed, poorly."

“I’m disgusting,” he groans. “I can’t stop coughing, I’m sweating everywhere, I feel like I’m going to be sick but there’s nothing to–” He cuts himself off with several dry, pathetic coughs. “Here’s what we’re going to do,” you tell him firmly. “Ominis is going to go to class and come back this afternoon with some Muggle medicinals. In the meantime, I’m going to help you eat a bit of food and have a bath.” “N-no, absolutely not,” he stammers. “You think I want you seeing me like this any more than you already have?”

Monday, October 5, 1891

Even a month after the start of term, it’s unseasonably warm in the Highlands. The heat from the dog days of summer persists well into the arrival of autumn, permeating the ancient stone walls of the castle and settling like a thin layer of fog across Hogwarts’ students.

Professor Sharp’s N.E.W.T.s-level Potions class meets promptly at nine o’clock every morning. Despite the early time slot, the dungeon-level classroom starts to become warm rather quickly thanks to the heat of two dozen bodies and six potion stations, each with their flickering flames preheating the students’ pewter cauldrons.

Your little trio is usually the last to arrive from breakfast. Sebastian sidles up to the doorway just as Professor Sharp is preparing to close it, gallantly offering to hold it open for you and Ominis as you take your time sauntering down the hall, arms linked together and chatting happily about the latest gossip to have surfaced in the Great Hall.

Then you settle in at the potions table squarely in the middle of the classroom, which you’d unabashedly claimed at the start of term. (Ominis can hear Professor Sharp most clearly here, and Sebastian, as always, gets to remain the center of attention.)

Finally, with Ominis’ dictation quill hovering over his parchment, Professor Sharp begins his daily discourse.

“Dittany, as you’ll recall, is one of the most useful herbs for creating a wide range of healing draughts,” he explains, showing off a tendril of the fiercely pink plant clipped from Professor Garlick’s greenhouse just that morning. “Can anyone give me an example of one?”

“Wiggenweld Potion, sir,” Amit chimes in.

“Very good, Mister Thakkar,” Sharp replies with an approving nod. “Another?”

Adelaide Oakes timidly raises her hand. “Essence of Dittany, sir?”

“Well done, Miss Oakes,” he murmurs. “Though not as effective as a properly-brewed bottle of Wiggenweld, dittany on its own can be used to craft a powerful restorative tonic – especially useful in preventing the occurrence of scars. Five points to Hufflepuff.”

Then Professor Sharp glances around the room expectantly. “One more, perhaps?”

“Moustache paste, sir?” Sebastian mumbles under his breath, and you quickly elbow him in the side.

“What was that, Mister Sallow?” Professor Sharp drawls.

Sebastian bites the inside of his cheek. “Er, the Antidote to Common Poisons, perhaps?”

Professor Sharp levels Sebastian with a dubious look. “I’m afraid not. While dittany is a broadly useful herb, its powers are generally limited to healing, not curing. When considering its uses, think ‘paper cut,’ not ‘influenza.’”

You raise your hand and ask, “Sir, are there any potions that do cure illnesses?”

“Yes, in fact,” Professor Sharp answers. “The Pepperup Potion will quickly resolve any common colds or cases of the flu, with the enigmatic side effect of generating steam that will pour from your ears for hours on end.”

You wince a bit. “I suppose that’s worth being over a cold in a day.”

“I should think so,” he replies with a slight grin. “So has the majority of the wizarding world since the twelfth century.”

As Professor Sharp segues into a lecture on the history of healing potions, you pull out a piece of parchment and start to take down some notes.

“Sebastian,” you hiss. “What does Pepperup Potion taste like?”

“I wouldn’t know,” he says. “I’ve only had it once, and it was a decade ago.”

You frown. “Why’s that?”

“I can’t drink it,” Sebastian says simply. “I’m allergic to bicorn horn.”

You blink, surprised. “You’re… allergic? How did you even discover that about yourself?”

“Oh, it was gruesome,” Ominis chimes in gleefully.

Sebastian rolls his eyes. “Well, I had my suspicions as a child when my parents gave me Pepperup Potion and steam poured out of my ears, nose, and mouth for a full week. Simply suffering through the cold would have been better.”

“And then?” you prompt.

“Well… in our third year, Anne and I made some Polyjuice Potion,” Sebastian admits, glancing around furtively. “We wanted to see if we could attend our classes all day as each other without anyone noticing the difference.”

“And Polyjuice Potion has bicorn horn,” you surmise.

Ominis looks delighted. “They were both in the Hospital Wing for three days, stuck as half-formed versions of each other.”

You gasp in disbelief. “That sounds awful!”

“It was the one and only time in their lives they were truly identical!” Ominis crows. “‘Sebastianne,’ we called them.”

You can’t help but giggle at Ominis’ delight while Sebastian sulks.

“In any case,” Sebastian grumbles, “I can’t take Pepperup Potion anymore, but luckily I never get sick.”

“Really?” you ask skeptically. “Everyone gets a common cold once in a while.”

“Not me,” he says proudly. “I haven’t been sick since I was a child. At the very least, if I have been sick, it must have been so mild that I wasn’t slowed down in the slightest – no need for Pepperup, thanks.”

“I’d be careful, Sebastian,” Ominis demurs. “Wouldn’t want to tempt fate, would we?”

With a lazy shrug, Sebastian turns to his potions station and begins to roughly chop some dittany leaves for a new healing potion Sharp intends to teach that afternoon. He glances up surreptitiously while you tie your hair back with one of those green ribbons you like to keep around your wrist for when the Potions classroom becomes especially humid with cauldron steam.

Though it’s unwise to lose focus while holding a knife, Sebastian has become quite skilled at multitasking while tending to his lovesick heart with stolen glances and half-formed daydreams.

He becomes so distracted staring at the column of your neck that when he suddenly feels a bit dizzy, he merely attributes it to the thick, heavy air in the room.

—

Tuesday, October 6, 1891

“You look dreadful,” you tell Sebastian cheerfully as you take a seat at breakfast.

Across from you, Sebastian looks a sight. His generally unruly hair is sticking up in every direction, and his face, which until this morning had still been sun-kissed and freckled from his time carrying out summer chores in Feldcroft, is ghostly pale.

“Cheers,” he grumbles, his head in his hands as he stares down at a plate full of untouched tattie scones.

You know for a fact they’re his favorite. In fact, you’ve stolen countless scones from the Great Hall on weekends when he treats himself to a bit of a lie-in just to make sure there are some left for when he finally emerges, hair rumpled and cheeks creased with pillow lines.

“Late night?” you ask him as you pour yourself some juice.

“The opposite, actually,” Ominis explains. “Sebastian was asleep before I even finished my Runes assignment last night, and I practically had to drag him out of bed this morning.”

“That doesn’t sound like you,” you comment, frowning. “You’re usually up half the night reading. Are you sure you’re alright?”

Sebastian shrugs weakly. “I’m fine, I just… It’s dreadfully warm in the castle, and my head is aching.”

Without thinking, you reach across the table and press the back of your hand against his forehead.

“You’re quite hot,” you mumble.

“Wh-what?” Sebastian stammers, his eyes going wide. “What did you do that for?”

“You have a fever,” you explain to him. “Old Muggle trick. And your eyes are quite glassy. I think you might be coming down with something.”

Ominis unsubtly slides further down the bench.

“I’m not sick,” Sebastian protests. “It’s just the heat, it’s making me tired.”

You eye him warily, and as if to prove that he’s not ill, Sebastian lifts one of his hoarded scones to his mouth and takes a bite.

“See?” he asks with his mouth full. “M’fine.”

You grimace. “Lovely.”

Sebastian determinedly joins you and Ominis for Potions and manages to remain upright until the very end of class. He sways just a bit as he gathers up his belongings, and you offer him your shoulder while you make your way toward the stairs to Divination.

He balks when he sees the twisting spiral steps.

“On second thought,” he mumbles, “I think I’ll skive off today and get some rest.”

“Will you be alright?” you ask him concernedly. “I can come with you…”

“No, it’s fine,” he insists. “I’ll just lie down for a bit and then I’ll be grand, I promise. Save a seat for me at dinner, will you?”

Later that evening you linger in the Great Hall until the last of dinner melts through the tables down to the kitchens below, but Sebastian never shows up.

—

Wednesday, October 7, 1891

“You do not want to go in there,” Ominis tells you warningly. “Trust me, he’s a mess.”

You scoff. “Don’t be ridiculous.”

Sebastian still hasn’t emerged from his dormitory in nearly eighteen hours, and you’re starting to worry for him. Ominis had brought him back some food from dinner the night before, but according to him, it had gone untouched.

When he’d failed to show his face at breakfast, you knew you had to step in.

“He wouldn’t want you to see him like this,” Ominis tries. “Sebastian is hardly a gentleman, but some things are sacred.”

“He’s our best friend,” you remind Ominis. “I really don’t care if he’s not entirely put together.”

Ominis opens his mouth as if to say more, and then seemingly changes his mind.

“Fine,” he sighs. “I’ll tell Professor Sharp you’re tending to Sebastian, and I’ll ask Amit if you can borrow his notes.”

“You’re a lifesaver, Ominis,” you breathe, quickly pulling him in for a hug. “What would we do without you?”

“Rot in Azkaban, most likely,” he grumbles, which… is fair.

Once Ominis leaves for class, you gently knock on the seventh-year boys’ dormitory door. “Sebastian? Can I come in?”

Through the door, you hear him whine, “Go ‘way.”

“Sebastian,” you call out patiently. “Ominis told me you’re sick, and you haven’t gotten out of bed in too long. I’m coming in.”

He protests weakly from his bed as you open the door and slip inside, carefully pressing it closed behind you. As you’d expected, his other roommates have all gone for the day. Only Sebastian remains – or at least, you think it’s Sebastian.

All you can see sticking out from underneath the pile of pilfered blankets on his bed is a mess of curly, brown hair.

“Oh, dear,” you sigh.

“Jus’ leave me alone,” he mumbles from beneath the covers. “...I think I’m sick.”

“Finally facing the music, are you?” you tease him, taking a seat at the foot of his bed. “How are you feeling?”

“Like death warmed over,” he groans. “I’ve never been this ill before.”

“Should I take you to see Nurse Blainey?” you ask him. “I know you can’t have Pepperup Potion, but perhaps she has something else that would help.”

“No,” he sighs. “Ominis already sent for her, she said I’m a dafty and I’ll be fine in a coupl’a days.”

You bite back a laugh at Sebastian’s deteriorating accent; for how posh he usually sounds, apparently that rougher Feldcroft vernacular tends to slip out when he’s feeling poorly.

“Poor lamb,” you croon. “Can I do anything for you? Have you eaten?”

“M’not hungry,” he sulks. “Ominis made me drink some water before he left.”

You hum softly as you start to slowly pull his piles of blankets down low enough that you can see his face. Quickly you realize that Ominis had been exaggerating – Sebastian doesn’t look entirely a mess.

His eyes are a bit wet and glassy, you observe, and his nose is bright red from persistent rubbing with a handkerchief abandoned on his bedside table. He looks a little swollen beneath his jaw, but otherwise, he looks like he’d merely stayed awake all night, and you’ve seen a sleepless Sebastian countless times throughout your friendship.

There’s a bit of stubble along his jaw that you’ve never noticed before; it’s the same rich brown color as his wild, unkempt hair.

(Honestly, how dare he still look handsome even when he’s ill.)

“Hello, you,” you tease him in a voice just above a whisper. “Was beginning to wonder if you were even there under all those blankets.”

“I’m cold,” he complains.

“That’s the fever talking,” you tell him. “You should probably–”

But before you can tell him that he’d be better off with less covers, the blankets shift lower and you realize he’s not wearing a pajama shirt.

(Your disobedient mind immediately raises the question of whether he’s wearing anything at all, and subsequently, if you could get away with having a look. Immediately you scold that particular thought away.)

“Er, you should… don’t overheat yourself,” you finish lamely.

He’s flushed down to his chest, fever-pale skin burning red where the blankets had been piled on top of him. You discover that he’s got a thin smattering of hair here, too; he’s grown into the body of a man much sooner than many of your classmates, you imagine.

Sebastian watches as you swallow, your own eyes raking down his body.

“You’re missing class,” he observes. “You never miss class.”

“It’ll be alright, just this once,” you say softly.

For a moment you aren’t sure if you’re talking about missing class or being in Sebastian’s bed.

Then Sebastian suddenly starts to cough and hastily reaches for his handkerchief. He sounds utterly pathetic as he coughs and groans in discomfort, rolling onto his side and looking for all the world like a kicked puppy.

“My chest hurts,” he whimpers. “I’ve been coughing all night.”

You reach across him and gently stroke the backs of your fingers down the middle of his chest. His skin is noticeably hot to the touch and damp with sweat.

“I can put some Muggle herbs in a warm compress for your chest,” you offer. “I know they’re not as effective as a potion would be, but it always helped me feel better when I was a child.”

“Alright, I suppose that’d be nice,” he mumbles.

But when you move to stand, he quickly snags your wrist.

“Wait,” he says. “Er… where would you go? For how long?”

“Well, I’ll have to go see if Nurse Blainey has any, and if not I can go look at the edge of the Forbidden Forest,” you explain. “It might take a bit of time, I’m afraid.”

“Then, just… stay,” he whines. “Keep me company? That’s better than some plain old herbs.”

You shift onto the bed, curling up on your side behind Sebastian. It’s a tight fit, and you’re dangerously close to falling off the edge, but you’re able to leave enough space between your bodies that you can make the argument that it’s friendly, and it’s fine.

“Can I rub your back?” you ask him softly. “It might help with the soreness.”

You have no idea if it will help his aching body, but you’re eager to try it nonetheless.

“Go on,” Sebastian rasps. “I… I might fall asleep.”

“You should,” you croon. “Your body’s telling you that you need to rest.”

“S’pathetic,” he grumbles. “I never get sick.”

“You had a good run,” you tease him. “But the common cold comes for us all eventually.”

He falls silent after that, his leanly muscled arms curled around a pillow while you stroke your hand up and down the length of his back. He’s so warm, and you’re a bit anxious about letting him ride out a fever as long as he has, but soon he drifts off to sleep.

You learn two things while he rests: he snores when he’s on his back, and he frowns whenever you take your hands off of him.

—

Thursday, October 8, 1891

Ominis had managed to talk you into returning to your own dormitory for the night, promising to look after Sebastian while you got some rest. When you return the following morning, you find him in even worse condition.

His sheets are bunched down to his hips, and he’s still bare from the waist up. His entire body is covered in a thin layer of sweat, and the bags underneath his eyes have worsened – despite how much rest he’s getting, he seems more fatigued than ever.

“What happened?!” you ask Ominis.

“He’s had a fever all night,” Ominis says grimly, looking just as worn out as Sebastian. “He hasn’t eaten a thing, and I’ve barely been able to get him to drink some water.”

“Oh, Seb,” you sigh, taking his clammy hand and resting it in your lap as you sit on the edge of the bed. “You poor thing.”

“I think I’m dying,” he rasps. “This is it, right?”

“Hush now, there’s no need to be so dramatic,” you gently scold him, pressing your hand to his forehead. “You’re quite warm, but I’m not worried about your imminent demise.”

“I’m disgusting,” he groans. “I can’t stop coughing, I’m sweating everywhere, I feel like I’m going to be sick but there’s nothing to–”

He cuts himself off with several dry, pathetic coughs.

“Here’s what we’re going to do,” you tell him firmly. “Ominis is going to go to class and come back this afternoon with some Muggle medicinals. In the meantime, I’m going to help you eat a bit of food and have a bath.”

“N-no, absolutely not,” he stammers. “You think I want you seeing me like this any more than you already have?”

“You’ll feel better,” you promise him. “And I swear I won’t, er… look, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

You argue back and forth until Sebastian, utterly depleted of his typical stubbornness, loses energy and gives in. Ominis promises to stop by J. Pippin’s to see if the shopkeeper has any draughts suitable for Sebastian’s allergies before leaving to go to class, and you help Sebastian get out of bed with his arm around your shoulders and your own around his waist.

(He’s got pants on, thank Merlin, but you have to help him into a pair of pajamas to make the walk to the Slytherin baths.)

Sebastian balks when you enter the boys’ baths, but you both quickly learn there are no enchantments in place to keep you from joining him. You offer him an arm to lean on while he takes off his pajamas and coughs – this time pointedly – for you to turn around while he sinks into the lukewarm bath you’d drawn.

“This does feel nice,” he finally says once he’s settled in the opaque, murlap-scented water.

“Good,” you say, hoping he doesn’t notice how your voice has gone up a bit higher than usual. “I’ll be back in a few moments with some fresh pajamas for you.”

“I’ll try not to drown while you’re gone,” he drawls, and even though he still sounds exhausted, you smile to yourself knowing that the bath is already helping him feel more like his usual self.

Hogwarts’ house elves were exceptionally fast in tidying up the boys’ dormitory while the two of you were out, so when you finally lead a clean, dry Sebastian back to his room, you’re thrilled to find freshly laundered sheets and a new pair of pillows waiting for him.

“Gods, I love magic,” he groans as he collapses into bed.

You stay all afternoon and into the evening. Ominis returns shortly before dinner with a brew from Parry Pippin himself, similar to the Pepperup Potion but with cinnamon instead of powdered bicorn horn.

(Sebastian seems to emit thin tendrils of steam straight from the top of his head after he drinks it, but he perks up all the same.)

Feenky herself brings a tray of soup and some leftover scones from breakfast once Sebastian regains his appetite. While he eats, he tells you about how he used to sit with Anne during the summers when she was particularly ill from her curse.

“At the time, I wondered if my being there was more of a help or a hindrance,” he says ruefully. “She was… hard to read, then. I couldn’t tell if she was annoyed by me or appreciated me staying.”

You pause before shyly asking, “Am I helping? By being here?”

“Of course,” he says without thinking.

“Then I’m sure you were helping Anne, even when she was annoyed,” you tell him reassuringly. “That’s all we ever want to do really, isn’t it? Help the ones we love?”

Sebastian glances up at his tray with an inscrutable expression on his face. His eyes are still glassy and he’s a bit peaky, but the cinnamon-laced, not-quite-Pepperup Potion has restored some of the usual warmth in his gaze.

“Right,” he echoes. “Help the ones we love.”

You end up staying the night in the boys’ dormitory. Only Ominis knows you’re there, as he draws the curtains around the both of you before the boys’ other roommates return from the common room. Given that Sebastian seems to be feeling better already, it’s not strictly necessary.

But it feels nice all the same.

—

Friday, October 9, 1891

Sebastian’s fever finally broke during the night.

When you wake up he’s wrapped around you from behind, one of his legs jammed between yours with his arm curled possessively around your waist.

You’re sweltering, but he’s cool to the touch.

“Sebastian,” you whisper, but he doesn’t answer.

Judging by the way sunlight pours over the top of Sebastian’s bed curtains, it’s well past when you’d usually wake up during the school week. You can’t hear any other snoring boys around you, either.

“Sebastian,” you hiss. “Wake up.”

He groans tiredly into your hair as his arm tightens around your waist. “No.”

“N-no?!” you sputter. “It’s morning! We… we should, er.”

You trail off when you realize you aren’t quite sure what you should be doing. Evidently you’ve missed breakfast, and you’ve likely missed the start of Potions for the third day in a row. Professor Sharp will have no choice but to give you a detention; just as well, you suppose, as you can use the time to make up what you’ve missed.

But now that the damage is done…

“How are you feeling?” you ask him softly, your eyes still fixed on the green curtains in front of your face.

“Loads better,” he says, only this time his lips are pressed against the sensitive spot behind your ear.

You gasp as he rolls more of his weight toward you, pressing you more firmly into the mattress.

“Sebastian…” you sigh.

“I had a dream about you last night,” he confesses, his voice barely above a whisper beneath your ear. “I’ve heard Pepperup Potion can give one strange dreams.”

“St-strange?” you whisper back. “Why was it a strange dream?”

“I suppose it wasn’t really ‘strange,’” he acquiesces. “But it was nice. Really nice.”

“Tell me about it?” you ask breathlessly.

“Perhaps I’ll show you instead,” he asks, and when you nod, he slides his hand down to your hip and turns you onto your back.

Then quite suddenly he’s leaning over you, one knee still between your thighs. He rests on his elbows so his face is just centimeters from yours, and it’s the first time you’ve gotten a good look at him since the boys put out last night’s fire.

Sebastian looks so much better. His cheeks are flushed, his eyes are clear and bright, and the sickly sheen of sweat he’d worn for days is entirely gone. (His hair is still a bird’s nest, but that’s to be expected.)

“We were like this,” he tells you.

“Were we just talking?” you ask him, but you’re met with only silence.

After a beat, he asks you, “Why have you been so kind to me this week?”

“You’re my best friend,” you tell him softly. “I – I wanted to help you feel better.”

“Is that all I am?” he asks. “Am I simply your friend?”

You bite your lip hesitantly and his gaze dips down to your mouth, his brown eyes nearly black in the soft morning light.

“Do you want to kiss me, Sebastian?” you ask.

Rather than answering, he surprises you by leaning down and pressing a sweet kiss to the corner of your mouth. Then he lifts one of his hands to gently tip your face toward his, cradling your jaw while he deepens the kiss into one that’s hardly sweet at all.

It feels like it’s perhaps the first time in days that Sebastian has felt hunger.

You gasp his name into his mouth and then he’s the one biting your lip, just a quick graze of his teeth before he soothes your ensuing whine with another slow kiss. He shifts his weight onto his hip to rest on the mattress beside you, using that leg between yours to coax you into lying next to him. He rewards your body’s assent with a filthy kiss – the kind you’ve only read about in those Muggle romance novels you hide under your pillow, the kind where the hero kisses the girl with his tongue in her mouth and his hand in her blouse.

“Seb,” you moan.

“I didn’t know,” he confesses against your lips.

“Didn’t know what?” you whine.

“I didn’t know you loved me until last night,” he says, pressing his forehead against yours.

You’re so distracted by how red and swollen his lips look that you nearly miss him saying, “You stayed with me all week, you held me, practically healed me, and I still didn’t know.”

“Of course I love you,” you tell him.

“You love Ominis, you love Poppy,” he counters. “This – us – is different. Right?”

And the truth is, you would have done anything you’d done for Sebastian for any one of your friends. You would have helped Poppy into a warm bath and back into bed, and you would have sat at Ominis’ bedside all day and torn up pieces of scone to float on the surface of his soup.

But you would not have let them press you into their bedsheets and trace their lips along your neck, and right now Sebastian is eagerly doing both.

“Yes,” you whimper, both in answer to his question and as a plea for more.

“I love you, too,” he sighs against your jaw. “I have for ages, and I didn’t want you to see me all pathetic and poorly, but you still love me anyway.”

“I’ve loved you through worse,” you quietly remind him.

He nips at your throat for that remark; you’ve both agreed to speak of your fifth year as little as possible. Truly, the only reason you’d ever bring it up now is to remind Sebastian that you’ve long since made your choice – him, over duty and the law and perhaps even reason.

“Stay with me,” he pleads. “We have all morning, we have the dormitory to ourselves. Let me take care of you now.”

He pulls your thigh across his own and tangles his fingers in your sleep-mussed hair, holding you against his warm, bare chest.

“That’s tempting,” you breathe. “B-but perhaps we should check with Nurse Blainey, to see if you’re ready to return to–”

You cut yourself off with a gasp as he grinds his hips against yours. There’s no mistaking that he’s aroused, and that alone convinces you that he must be feeling well – you’re positive that he would’ve been too weak for this type of debauchery yesterday morning even if you’d gotten fully nude before him and begged.

“Trust me, I feel excellent,” he moans into your mouth. “Love, please.”

You don’t come up for air for a long while after that. By the time Ominis stops by during lunchtime to check on Sebastian, he nearly trips over your skirt, hastily tossed near the doorway.

“I take it you’re feeling better,” he deadpans.

“That potion of yours worked like a charm, Ominis,” Sebastian drawls. “Cinnamon, who would have thought?”

“I don’t suppose I mentioned that Muggles find cinnamon to be an organic aphrodisiac?” Ominis says innocently. “At least, that’s what Mister Pippin said. He told me you might have some rather amorous dreams while you recover.”

“No, I think you forgot to mention that,” Sebastian replies just as innocently.

Ominis simply hums and says, “Well, now that you’ve been made aware, I’ll be off to Herbology. I’d recommend locking the door if our dear friend is going to be keeping you company this afternoon, Sebastian.”

You’re too embarrassed to say a word, but Sebastian cheerfully thanks him as he pulls the door shut and reaches for his wand on his bedside table to magically lock it behind him.

“We’ve become menaces,” you whine as he rolls on top of you once more.

Sebastian grins wickedly down at you. “Not yet we haven’t, but thank Merlin we’ve got all afternoon.”

#hogwarts legacy #hogwarts legacy fic #sebastian sallow #sebastian sallow fic #sebastian sallow x reader #sebastian sallow x mc #sebastian x reader #sebastian x mc #my fic #man flu sebastian :(((

[notjustjavierpena]

Mouthful

Series Masterpost | Main Masterpost

A/N: Made with the help from my loveliest @strang3lov3 with a talk about men conking out after cumming and how Hubby Javier still hasn’t gotten his dick sucked. So to all the girlies who want to give your fictional husband a blowjob, this one is for you.

Summary: Javier is starting to come down with the flu but he just simply won’t lie down to have some rest. You have a trick that never fails.

Pairing: Javier Peña x Reader/You (No y/n)

Tags: +18 smut, husband!javier, domestic life, sickfic, Inés is a menace, Javier is a stubborn man, ❤️ JAVIER HAS A DAD BOD!!!!!!! ❤️, blowjob, deep-throating, mouth-fucking, praise, dirty talk, cum-swallowing,

Word count: 2.8k

Link to this work on AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/52856839

Mouthful

You hear the clink of plates being lifted out of the dishwasher, the sound of Sebastian crying, stuttering sobs as he is bounced, and Inés going on about something that happened in preschool. Javier is barely listening, replying with half-sentences that seem to make his daughter more frustrated with her father not paying attention and eventually leading to her talking louder. 

The idea of what will meet you in the kitchen is enough to make you want to flee to the bedroom, enough to make you want to pretend that you haven’t heard them during an extended nap. However, you could never bring yourself to let Javier go through the hell of late afternoons with children alone.

“Look who’s up,” he says with a desperate smile as you enter the room, twisting his whole body to make his crying son spot his mother. As soon as Sebastian’s eyes gaze upon you, his wails die down and they stop completely the moment you take him from Javier’s arms. 

“Mom! Guess what happened today at school,” Inés interrupts just as you are about to say something. She speaks loudly, and you automatically reach up to cover Sebastian’s ear that isn’t pressed into your shoulder. 

“Inés, indoor voices,” Javier finally manages to say, reaching up to rub his temples, “Shhh…”

“Sorry,” she makes a face, not completely convinced. 

“What happened at school?” You ask but instead of looking at her, you find yourself staring at your husband who looks like absolute hell, glassy eyes and exhaustion radiating from him. Inés giggles as she tells a joke that isn’t really a joke, too lost in her story to notice that you aren’t really listening. 

Javier places a hand on the kitchen table, closing his eyes and pinching the bridge of his nose. His shirt is crumpled, his eyes have dark circles and you don’t actually think that he has even noticed that he is sniffling every other moment. He sighs deeply, breathing mostly through his mouth as he does it, and then goes back to emptying the dishwasher.

“Are you okay, honey?” You ask him, stopping midway to shush Inés who doesn’t look pleased, “You look under the weather. Are you feeling okay?” 

There’s an almost offended nature in Javier’s reply. He doesn’t stop what he is doing, sorting through the cutlery, “What? No, yeah. Estoy bien, mi amor (I’m fine, my love). Just need to get this done.”

“And then what?” You ask with a raised eyebrow. 

“And then I’ll get started on dinner,” he tells you with a tired smile that isn’t very convincing. 

“You look like… m i e r d a (shit), and you probably feel it too. I was sick last week,” you spell out the dirty word, using the Spanish word because the English is short enough to make Inés guess what you are saying. 

“Mom,” Inés predictably complains. 

“I’m fine. I just need 20 minutes where no one comes near me,” he says with exasperation. He finishes up the bottom drawer of the dishwasher and goes to pull out the top one. You find yourself laying a hand on top of his, stopping him in his tracks.

“Javi,” you say softly. 

“What?” He grumbles.

“I can finish up here. I’ll cook dinner,” you tread lightly, knowing that he hates being babied by you. Him not pulling his weight is a common fight that the two of you have had, and he probably feels on edge when you ask him not to help out with the kids. 

“I can do it,” he snaps but suddenly sneezes, and it ends up making his nose prickle enough to cause his eyes to water. 

“Go do something else, laundry maybe. I’ll do this,” you say a little more firmly, strategically sending him to your bedroom to make him spot your bed and have some well-earned rest, “It’s really not a problem, and you know I hate doing laundry anyway.”

“Fine,” he holds his hands up in surrender. 

“I love you,” you say in a sing-song voice as he leaves the kitchen, “Go have your 20 minutes.”

Inés looks longingly after her father but you manage to distract her with a snack before she runs after him. You run your free hand over her hair as she eats a peanut butter sandwich, Sebastian cooing happily on your hip as he has been allowed to chew on a banana.

“Do you want to watch cartoons before dinner?” You ask, “Give Mommy some time to get things done in the kitchen, and then I can hear all about school while we eat?”

“Fine,” she parrots her dad, holding up her hands as well and running off to the living room. You follow her, setting Sebastian down in his playpen and turning on the baby monitor. Then you turn on the TV, adjust the volume, and let Inés busy herself by singing along to her favorite theme song. 

You finish emptying the dishwasher, cut vegetables, and throw them into the slow cooker with other ingredients, and after you check on both of your kids, you realize there’s some spare time before you have to pick Lucas up from his play date. 

You decide to go upstairs to do another round of laundry, but when you cannot find the laundry basket, you go to your bedroom. Javier must have taken it when folding clothes. 

“Jesus, why are you not resting? I sent you here so you’d eventually nap,” you groan as you enter the bedroom and see Javier putting his shirts on hangers. 

“I told you I’m fine,” he seems even more sick at this point, nose slightly congested and causing him to speak nasally, “I can do this.”

You walk up to him to yank a clothing hanger out of his hands and throw it onto the floor, receiving a glare in response. Javier doesn’t look pleased with your behavior, but you don’t find his stubborn attitude charming either. 

“Javier F. Peña,” you tut, “Just go lie down and trust that your wife has everything under control. It’s what a lot of husbands do, you know.”

“Well, wife, I don’t need your permission to do housework,” he tries to push past you but you catch him in a disarming embrace, giggling as he tries bending down to pick you up so he can move you out of his way. You avoid his efforts, catching him by the wrists when he straightens once more, and push him back towards the bed. 

“You need rest, husband,” you shove him when the back of his knees hit the edge of the bed, and he lets himself fall down into the mattress, bouncing slightly as it connects with his back. 

“I don’t need a nap, I’m not a child,” he groans dramatically. 

“Then stop acting like one,” you pull the baby monitor out of your pocket and place it on the nightstand. When Javier tries to sit up again, you snap your fingers and point at him, “Nuh-uh, lie down.” 

It makes you realize that you need to use alternative methods to get him to obey; he simply won’t do as he has been told, and if anyone is ever in doubt about where Inés gets her stubbornness from, you’ll simply glance over at her father to answer the question. 

“What if I treat you to something special?” You ask with a little smirk, moving to the end of the bed so you can proceed to crawl onto him. You sit on his legs, “Think that’ll make you relax?”

You already know the answer to that question. He looks ready to conk out. 

“I’m actually fine, I don’t need—“

“I know, Javi,” you reply. Your fingers find his crumpled shirt and you pull it out of his jeans, shoving it up over his stomach so you can access his belt, watching your husband twitch underneath you at the sound of the buckle clinking as you undo it. 

He lifts his head to watch as you tug down his jeans and underwear, “Just so you know, I’m not sleeping after this. I have to—“

“I know, Javi,” you repeat, bending down to nuzzle your nose against his soft stomach. His cock lays flaccid against his thigh, but you pull it out from underneath the waistband of his briefs to lay it against his tummy so you can skim your palm up and down the shaft. His soft cock slowly comes alive underneath your touch, and soon you can wrap your fist around him to stroke him till he stands completely erect. 

Below you, Javier groans when you press a kiss to his belly, “And I have to get the laundry done.” 

“Whatever you say, baby, let me take care of you and I’ll let you do as much laundry as you want,” you hum against his skin, relishing in his warmth and his so-called dad-body - the last year has blessed you with Javier getting a little softer to the touch - that you nuzzle up to at every opportunity you get. 

Javier isn’t a fan of himself growing soft around the middle but you savor it every time you get to see that bit of pudge strain against his usual jeans (which he refuses to buy in a bigger size). If you thought he was gorgeous when his muscles were toned and his body looked younger, you had not been prepared for how good he looks now that he is older, rounder, and getting comfortable. His arms are still deliciously strong; an overwhelmingly sexy result of still carrying Inés around everywhere, picking her up from the ground if she has a tantrum at the grocery store. 

“God, you’re so sexy,” you pinch his stomach to earn a little noise. Javier says your name in disapproval but you just look up at him with a smile, grabbing more of his pudge before biting into it and kissing it afterward, “Let your wife have her fun.”

Javier is just about to say something - you don’t know whether it is about his body, the lack of a blowjob, or laundry once more - but you know it’s more complaining and so you cut him off by running the flat of your tongue from base to tip of his cock. He tastes like salt. If you had the time, you would not finish until his scent and taste were everywhere on you. In your clothes, etched into your skin, and on your tongue. 

“Oh shi—“ he gasps, resting the back of his head on the mattress once more. He breathes deeply in through his mouth, nose still stuffed, and stares at the ceiling as you work your tongue up and down his shaft only to follow the wet trail with your nose.

When you reach his cockhead a third time, you suckle on the very tip to rid him of the pearl of precome that has accumulated at the slit and is threatening to slide down (you want to treat yourself to it before it does). Above you, Javier moans at feeling your mouth, not your tongue, properly for the first time. 

“Fucking hell, baby, gotta admit that I didn’t see this coming,” he half-chuckles, half-groans.

“Maybe I just wanted to shut you up for a moment. You are stubborn, you know,” you pull back to talk, look up at him, and nuzzle needily at his cock. He looks down at you but you simply smile, “I looove you for that though, not annoying at all.”

You follow your little snarky remark up with a press of your lips to the underside of his shaft, using a hot open-mouthed kiss to cut off whatever offense he might take from your teasing. He doesn’t even seem to register it after feeling your mouth on himself again. 

Then you let saliva gather in your mouth before spitting directly onto the head, using your hand to smear it down his length by stroking him a few times. You lean over him and bring your mouth down over his girth, no teasing or anything, until the thick head hits the back of your mouth. 

“Fuuuck, and then up again,” he groans, a strong hand reaching for whatever he can grab of you. His fingers curl around your shoulder, moving inwards until they dig into the back of your neck. Slowly, you drag your lips all the way off of him again. 

Javier makes a sound when you pull off but it quickly turns into a whimper as you let more saliva drip down. You smear this too, swirling your sinful tongue around the tip and occasionally licking like were you eating a popsicle on a summer’s day. 

You can feel him pulse against your lips, so you show mercy and let him into your mouth again. He is hot and heavy on your tongue and a moaning mess above you, nails starting to dig into your skin. 

You start bobbing your head, hand on the base of Javier’s cock to hold his generous size in place. When he bumps against your throat for the first time and thus makes you gag the first time, he lets out a sound that you can never get enough of and it causes your cunt to throb between your legs. 

“Who would think that a pretty girl sucks cock like that? Oh, fuck… I love you, just like that—” he talks in a way that makes you think he might not even be aware of what he is saying but is simply letting his mouth run, “Suck that cock, baby. Good fucking girl, married the right one, didn’t I?”

You hum in reply and he growls at the vibrations of your voice. The pride you feel is indescribable, and so you seek out his approval once again by moaning as you taste him. Even if it results in your eyelashes dampening from Javier pushing his hips upwards, you lean further down and force yourself to relax your throat. 

He slides into the tight space at the back of your throat and his hand flies to the top of your head. He fists your hair desperately when you gulp around him and make your throat spasm, tugging at your follicles to the point where tears slide down your face. Soon, they also mix with the spit coating his cock.

You swallow around him again. Javier holds your head with both hands now, “Can I - Christ - can I fuck this gorgeous mouth? Por favor (please), baby.”

Even if it is hurting a little, you nod the best you can because Javier’s groan as he starts thrusting his hips upward is worth any ache in your body. Your thighs flutter, your clit pulses. 

Both his hands gather your hair in a makeshift ponytail. He uses it to move your head as he pleases, makes you bob on his dick until you gag wetly with every other thrust of his hips. Every time he bucks his hips, his thigh muscles flex and your nose buries itself in his happy trail. 

“You gonna take it?” He rasps, chest heaving. He is nearly there, muscles in his whole body twitching as he slowly loses control over himself when pleasure is so close. The next thrusts are maddening and you can’t blink any tears away even if you tried, “Fuck, swallow, baby. Take my come.”

You look up at him through your wet lashes and hum a mhm, confirming. Yes, yes, yes, give it to me.

You know he is peaking when his breath stops. He holds it during the last thrusts, finally letting out a loud moan as he finishes and sucks in a deep breath afterward. 

His cock spurts in the next moment. You can feel it hit the back of your sore throat, warm and salty, in several pulses and automatically, you swallow hungrily around his girth. The action makes him groan weakly and his hips stutter until he finally needs to let go of you. His arms lie flat along his side.

“Holy fuck, baby,” he sighs contentedly when you pull off, “Fuck, I don’t even know what to say.”

“Don’t say anything, Daddy,” you tease, and then you treat the sensitive head of his cock to a few innocent kitten-licks, essentially cleaning him up until he softens. 

He whimpers when it becomes too much, and so you pull off to kiss him along his stomach. You can hear his breathing changing, turning into something less erratic. 

“You okay?” You eventually ask but receive no reply. You look up. 

As predicted, Javier snores. You smile to yourself as you push yourself away from him, careful not to wake him up as you pull his briefs and jeans up again, leaving the latter unbuttoned. 

“Javier Peña, the most stubborn man on the planet has a weakness,” you whisper and shake your head with a fond smile. 

You grab the baby monitor from the nightstand and leave him to sleep, knowing he’ll wake up feeling a lot more sick and, hopefully, a lot more cooperative. You bring him a glass of water and some Tylenol to wake up to, write a note for him about how much you adore him, and that you’ll take care of everything. He needs it. 

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[daisybianca]

pairing: sebastian vettel x femalereader

summary: it's totally forbidden. he's older and your childhood and eternal crush, but there's more to that. his best friend--and your dad--is Michael Schumacher. one day, you're sick and stuck in your bed with a fever. he pays you a visit, and then the fever becomes even more brutal. HERE'S PART TWO.

warnings: sexual activities, jealousy, cursing words

(a/n): it's late at night, and I just wrote this, and I'm really, really sleepy. there might be multiple mistakes, grammar, and spelling, but HEY. the tension is still there! <3

IT HAD BEEN almost five days since everyone got informed that you were down with the flu. Michael Schumacher's beloved daughter was a concern about pretty much everyone in the paddock. Every single person cared deeply about you and Mick. Everybody knew that.

You got quite a few messages and texts from the drivers and team members in the past few days. You answered with polite, brief responses and made sure everyone knew you were just fine with the necessary drugs and medicine prescriptions.

The truth was that you had been feeling okay since a couple of days ago, but chose not to tell anyone. Rest on a bed all day was cool.

Opening your phone, you entered Instagram and wrote a brief thank you text to Daniel Ricciardo, who wished you a fast recovery. Scrolling through the app, you detected a post on your insta feed that was referring to Sebastian Vettell.

Oh, he was tour childhood crush.

Everybody freaking knew that.

You remembered that in an interview a few years ago with your father, a reporter had asked you whether or not you'd like to race for a F1 team and become a driver in the future. You response was fast and was definitely written in history. It almost immediately went viral, and people still talked about it on social media, leading to multiple fans shipping you and the famous world champion.

"No, I don't think I'm going to be a racing driver. But I'll marry one anyway, so it doesn't really matter." The spot played like a old cassette in your mind. A wide grin formed on your father's face and the reporter returned to you and lowered the microphone to reach your tiny height. You were barely 12 years old at that time.

"Who are you referring to? Lewis Hamilton? Do you like him, huh? British, humorous, handsome! He's totally so charming!"

"No, no, no, no!" Your father, Michael, bent over and picked you up in his strong arms. "I'm pretty sure the husband she's talking about is Vettell." He laughed again and you were so confused at the cameras and microphones and tons of people around you.

You were absolutely serious about craving to marry that man. He was something truly angelic to you, even though your innocent 12-year-old mind couldn't fathom how a real marriage worked.

"Oh, I get it! Blondes are better anyway!" The red-head reporter yelled and thanked you for the interview, before moving to the next driver.

You also remembered clearly the very first time you learned about Sebastian dating some girl.

A few of your dad's friends were gathered at your house, along with Sebastian. They talked about some weird strategies you couldn't analyze and had a great time together, but suddenly a question was fired at Sebastian, gaining your full attention.

"Seb, what's up with that blonde you've been going out with since last month?" A guy asked, and your gaze darkened. No one really noticed you eyeing the men behind the kitchen table. But that's what you wanted anyway.

"Who? Hannah? Oh, she seems okay, I guess." He took a sip from his bottle of beer and went on, his eyes lingering around the room. "She's hot, supportive and... not really smart but I don't mind, it's not like I'm going to marry her anyway."

They all laughed at Sebastian's words and you waited until most of the guys moved outside, near the pool in order to prepare the barbecue.

Approaching Sebastian, his eyes automatically landed up on you as he smiled.

"Hey, there, little one!" Sebastian greeted. You hated it when he called you little one. You were 17 at that time. In puberty and almost in adulthood.

"Don't call me that, Seb! I'm not 10 anymore!" You laughed and you got on your knees in front him, next to the couch.

He bent over and applied a peck on your forehead, just like he always adored to do. It was one of his special ways to show his platonic affection to you.

"I'm sorry, sweetheart." He smiled and got up, walking to the kitchen. He came back a few moments later and handed you an orange juice.

"I'd prefer the beer you're holding, thank you very much." You pushed the plastic carton of juice away and got up to grab the beer from Seb's hands. He tossed it away immediately.

"Your father would kill me, love."

Oh, love.

What a word to hear from his beautiful, full lips.

You bite your lips. Hard.

Your female hormones had been raging since a couple of years ago due to puberty. And Sebastian Vettel was so not helping with that.

You formed a fake sad face, and he sat to the couch again.

You'd love to sit in his lap right now. You used to do that when you were a little. You would wrap your hands around his neck... and stare at his baby blue eyes forever.

If the desire to sit in Seb's lap was a drug, you were totally and undoubtedly a drug addict.

But you couldn't do it now. Sebastian wouldn't let something like that happen.

A few moments later, you were sat beside him on the couch, drinking enormous sips from the juice Seb had offered you.

"It's tasty." You told him after you caught his gaze upon you.

"Um... I guess so."

You blinked a couple of times.

"Soooo... you have a girlfriend?" Your voice was steadier than you thought it'd come out.

"I don't know." He thought for a second. "It's complicated."

You automatically dragged the thin material of your cozy dress lower on your thighs when you caught his eyes traveling their for a tiny, brief moment.

"Are you in love with her?" You asked without hesitating and ignoring the previous incident.

"In love?" He repeated. "Jesus, no. I don’t think I've ever been in love before."

You didn't know if the scorching burning in your chest was a good thing. You were glad he hadn't been in love with anyone before, but simultaneously you weren't.

"Have you?" Sebastian's question caught you off guard.

"Who? Me?" Yes, you wanted to yell at him. But didn't. "No. I'm almost 17 and barely had any experiences in my love life."

"That's not certainly a bad thing." He mumbled, drinking from his beer, his lips almost immediately absorbing the liquid.

Germans loved beers. Sebastian Vettel was no exception to that rule.

"What? Having zero experiences in that area?" You asked.

It wasn't like you hadn't been kissed before. You had. Twice. By two different boys. But nothing compared to the love life other teenagers had the chance of experiencing at your age.

"Yes. It's a good thing, to say at least." His eyes were so threatening. Like there was a hidden meaning behind them.

But maybe it was just something your mind created due to the fact that... this man... oh, Gosh... you had never desired anything or anyone like him.

"Why?" You looked at him and his gaze found yours.

"You should wait for the right one." He smiled simply.

You looked at him and wanted to say that he was all you wanted. But you fucking couldn't. And that was drowning your feelings for him in deep, dark oceans.

"The heart wants what it wants." You pronounced, and Seb didn't quite get your words.

He didn't want to anyway. He knew damn well that your feelings about him were intense since you were a little kid.

The obsessed, recless, lovesick teen. That's what you thought Seb would describe you as. Little did you know he had the exact opposite opinion of you.

Seb was your frustration.

He thought you were like a daughter to him at that time. Little did he know you'd do anything to keep your promise in the future.

Bottled-up feelings. Intense feelings, unexplained issues. He caused that to you. All of it. And he didn't even know.

°•°

You were almost 19 now.

Age was by your side and the age gap between you and Seb wasn't that intense. Only 11 years. You had met multiple couples before with even bigger age difference and they lived with it in happiness and with pride.

Closing your eyes, you inhaled a big breath.

You felt greedy, insatiable.

Seb continued being pretty much the number one reason why you still had a good opinion of the masculine sex but you were careful and avoided showing it to everyone anymore. Paparazzi and the media always tended to make things even bigger.

It was just a few minutes before noon when a knock on the door sounded like a thunderous lightning in your sensitive ears. You hadn't communicated with a singe soul in a couple of days because you wouldn't risk infecting anyone else with the virus, even though you already feeling extremely better.

Beforing bothering to hear you climbing out of the bed, a familiar figure of a male swung the door open and closed it sat afterwards, swaying the keys in his hands.

"Seb?" Your voice was weak as you got out of the coziness of your bed and approached the door. "How the hell do you have my keys?"

The German man turned to you and gestured to be sat on the bed once again, as if you were so fragile and threatened to break just because of a silly virus. Sebastian was so dramatic. But you didn't. complain as you gained your soft spot on the mattress again because his white button-up shirt blurt your thoughts and your vision. He had rolled the light fabric on his wrists, highlighting even more his rough hands.

"I asked Mick to lend them to me so I could pass by here and check up on my favorite girl."

His words buzzed in your ears.

What did he just say?

He used to call you random nicknames, some of them cute and others... kind of silly, but 'my favorite girl'?

That was too much for your complicated mind to analyze.

Sebastian sat down opposite of you.

As he faced you and said absolutely nothings, his state felt scorching. Like a burning flame, attempting to read your thoughts, which were too hard to be hidden between the curtains of your eyelashes.

You had always known he could read you like an open book. And you always hated that exceptional ability of his.

Sometimes, he could unearth thoughts in you that no one else could. Not even your father, nor your brother, and sometimes not even you...

"How are you feeling, (y/n)?" His soft smile faded, blue, intense eyes focused on you, eyeing you from head to toes as if he could detect any physical pain just by observing your body.

"How do I look?" You fired back, without hesitation.

You didn't mean to sound flirtatious at all. But... oh, well, the look on Sebastian's face read something entirely different...

You were kind of mad at him that he chose to pass by your apartment without calling or messaging you first. You tried to make him gather that without saying it, but your tone didn't come out the way that you wanted it to.

"If you ask me, you don't look ill at all." Sebastian crossed his arms, his veins popping out of the white fabric. "You look... I don't know..." He gave in, eyes traveling everywhere in the room but you.

You felt a warm wave of air coming your way from the opened windows, so you chose to unzip your thin cardigan a little bit more. Your grey sweatpants were too hot for you at the moment, but the idea of changing into something more loose didn't occur to you earlier.

"Sebastian, I look like a fucking sloth that's been eating leafy greens, rice and pasta for five days in a row!" You laughed but the blond man didn't seem to be amused by your humorous comment. When you faced his cold state, your expression transformed into something more serious. "Why didn't you call before visiting?"

"The answer is too simple and you're too smart to even ask." He shrugged, annoyed. "Because I know you wouldn't let me come."

You hadn't seen Sebastian like that never before. He seemed... different. He always used to laugh with you, enjoy some movies, play video games or boarding games with you for fun...

But now...

He looked so changed and you can't understand why.

"Why wouldn't I let you come, Seb?"

He took a deep, deep breath before answering. "Because you're just as stubborn as me. I wouldn't let you come and visit me while I'm sick either. Even though you--"

Your phone buzzed with a notification on the nightstand, causing Seb's speech to come to a hault.

Another notification popped up and the screen illuminated once again.

One more and then another one...

You stretched your whole body and grabbed your device. Glancing at the screen, you read five unanswered messages from Lando.

This guy tries to catch up with you always when the time isn't right.

Sebastian got up from the chair near your desk. "Who is it?" He asked, trying to keep the coolness in his tone.

"A friend."

"Is it Norris?" Seb snapped.

You instantly looked up from your screen. "How the hell do you know Norris texts me?"

Sebastian smirked and took a seat close to you on the bed. But he was still too far. You needed him closer to make you forget about your frustration with him.

"A spend three quarters of my day with your brother."

"Oh, Mick, you're such a traitor." You muttered to yourself as you shoved your phone under the sheets.

"He just cares about you. We all do." Seb seemed to hesitated for his upcoming words. "You'll always be our best girl."

Our?

Fuck. It felt like he tried so hard to hide his thoughts.

But they say that the eyes are the window to your soul.

"Seb, are you flirting with me?" You shot, keeping your voice calm and steady.

"You want me to stop?" His answer was instant, causing your entire body and face to redden.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

You'd been waiting for this moment almost 20 years and now... that it was finally happening, you didn't know what to do.

"No," you muttered. "But I expected you to do something more than that. You were always the brave one, remember?"

Whatever it took to fulfill your eternal dream.

Seb stood up and did something you never expected him to do. Even though every part of you craved this moment to come in many dreams.

He kneeled in front you.

Fuck.

His blue eyes were the most beautiful thing you had ever seen. "Seb, what are you--"

"Open your legs for me, love." He murmured, looking up at you with his fingers genrly pressing on your bare thigh.

You felt your cheeks redden. Again.

It felt insane how instant your body's reaction was to his words and touch. As if it had a mind of its own.

Seb's voice forced you back to reality when you realized you stared at him speechless. "I won't repeat myself."

You shivered and opened up your legs for him, welcoming his warm and long fingers.

"You won't kiss me?" Your voice was barely audible.

"I'm not going to make it that easy for you, babe."

"W-what do you mean?"

A smirk appeared. "I suppose you'll have to beg for it."

♡♡♡

Part 2.

#f1 drivers #f1 #formula 1 #formula 1 imagine #formula one #f1 memes #formula 1 memes #formula one oneshot #formula one imagine #sebastian vettel x reader #sebastian vettel imagine #sebastian vettel fanfic #seb vettel #sebastian vettel #f1 x reader #f1 x you #f1 x y/n #f1 x oc #f1 x female reader #f1 smut #f1 fluff #formula one fic #formula 1 one shot #formula one fanfiction #formula 1 smut #formula 1 fluff #sebastian vettel x you #formula one x reader #formula one x you #formula one x y/n

[musicforastylesrestaurant]

Santa’s Grotto.

my masterlist || ask me anything <3

my blurb masterlist is here!

authors note - long hair harry makes me feral ngl, so enjoy him taking his son to go and see santa:)

word count - 1.3k

in which, harry takes his two year old son, sebastian, to go and see santa because your at home sick from the flu, but it doesn’t go aswell as he hoped seeing as all little kids appear to have a phobia of the man dressed in red.

At eighteen, Harry Styles embraced the profound reality of parenthood when his son, Sebastian Robin-Edward Styles was born. Sleepless nights became a routine as Harry devoted himself to the care of his newborn. The dim glow of nightlights and lullabies filled the early hours, creating a tender atmosphere of fatherly dedication.

The exhaustion was palpable, yet Harry wouldn't trade those sleepless nights for anything. Each bleary-eyed moment was a testament to the deep love he felt for Sebastian. The bond forged during those quiet hours of feeding, soothing, and comforting became the foundation of an unbreakable connection.

Harry often looked back on those moments when he spent time with his now two year old son, who was turning more and more into a close friend of his as the minutes of the day ticked by.

In the heart of the bustling mall, Harry stood patiently in line at Santa's grotto, his two-year-old son, Sebastian, cradled in his arms. The air was filled with the warm scent of cinnamon and the soft murmur of excited chatter as families eagerly awaited their turn. The line snaked around, adorned with festive decorations that captured Sebastian's wide-eyed attention.

Harry's long hair served as an unintentional playground for his son, who gleefully tugged at the strands while fixating on the mesmerizing twinkling lights overhead.

As they edged closer to the front, Harry observed the diverse array of families sharing in the holiday spirit. Laughter and anticipation filled the air, creating a joyful atmosphere that enveloped both father and son.

Sebastian, blissfully unaware of the world beyond the enchanting lights, continued to marvel at the vibrant surroundings, his tiny fingers entangled in Harry's locks.

The anticipation heightened as they approached the entrance to Santa's magical realm. Harry, with a loving smile, gently adjusted Sebastian in his arms, ensuring the little one had the best view of the enchanting scene.

The elves, adorned in festive attire, orchestrated the seamless flow of families, adding to the enchantment that surrounded them. As they neared the front of the line, the duo's excitement mirrored that of the other children and parents, all eagerly awaiting their moment with the jolly man in red.

As Harry and Sebastian reached the front of the queue, a friendly elf with a sprightly demeanor greeted them.

"Well, hello there! Looks like we've got a special visitor today," the elf exclaimed, a twinkle in their eye.

Sebastian, however, suddenly grew shy, burying his face in the crook of Harry's neck, his tiny hands clutching onto the strands of his father's hair.

Harry chuckled warmly, gently coaxing Sebastian to face the friendly elf. "S’okay, buddy. S’nice elf just wants t’say hello."

He lifted Sebastian slightly, revealing a bashful smile on the toddler's face.

The elf, undeterred by Sebastian's shyness, continued to engage them, "Santa's been eagerly waiting to meet you, little one. What's your name?"

Sebastian mumbled a soft reply, his words muffled by the safety of Harry's neck.

The elf, playing along, nodded with exaggerated excitement. "Ah, Sebastian! That's a fantastic name for someone about to meet Santa. I bet you've been a good little helper this year, haven't you?"

Sebastian, gaining a bit more confidence, peeked out from his hiding spot and shyly nodded.

Harry joined the conversation, appreciating the effort to make Sebastian feel comfortable.

"He's been such a good boy, especially with all the twinkling lights and holiday cheer around here." Harry answered, brushing some of his son's curls out of his face.

The elf grinned, "That's wonderful to hear! Santa loves hearing about good boys like Sebastian. Well, it won't be long now before you get to share all your wishes with him."

As they chatted, the atmosphere in Santa's grotto remained festive and lively. The elf skillfully transitioned the conversation to holiday traditions, asking Harry and Sebastian about their favourite parts of the season.

Harry shared stories of their family traditions, and before they knew it, it was time to approach Santa's chair.

The elf gestured toward the magical seat, "Sebastian, are you ready to meet the big man himself?"

As Harry and Sebastian entered Santa's tent, a festive air surrounded them. The scent of evergreen and cinnamon filled the space, and the anticipation was palpable.

Santa, with a hearty chuckle, welcomed them, "Ho, ho, ho! Well, hello there! Who do we have here?"

With a gentle smile, Harry bent down to encourage Sebastian onto Santa's lap. However, as Sebastian neared the red-suited figure, he clung tightly to Harry, his eyes wide with trepidation.

"S’okay, Seb. Santa's a friend," Harry reassured, attempting to ease his son's nervousness.

Sebastian, unconvinced, buried his face in Harry's shoulder, his tiny hands gripping onto his father's shirt. Santa, with a twinkle in his eye, chimed in,

"Ah, a little shy, are we? That's perfectly normal. How about we start with a high-five?" He extended a gloved hand toward Sebastian, hoping to initiate a connection.

Despite Santa's friendly gesture, Sebastian's anxiety escalated, and a whimper escaped him. Harry, now kneeling beside Santa's chair, continued to comfort his son,

"S’alright, buddy. Y’don't have t’do anything y’not comfortable with. Santa understands." However, as the tension lingered, Sebastian's anxiety reached its peak, and tears welled up in his eyes.

Santa, ever understanding, offered a warm smile, "No need to worry, little one. Sometimes meeting new friends can be a bit overwhelming. How about you tell me what you want for Christmas?”

In a last-ditch effort to salvage the moment, Harry took a seat on the chair next to Santa, with Sebastian on his lap. However, Sebastian, caught in the throes of a full-blown meltdown, wriggled and squirmed, attempting to escape the clutches of the man in the red suit.

The cheerful atmosphere of the grotto seemed to fade as Sebastian's desperation escalated.

Harry, his patience wearing thin, held onto his son, attempting to soothe the uncontrollable distress. The once-anticipated visit to Santa's lap had turned into a struggle, and Sebastian's tears mirrored the disappointment in the air.

The twinkling lights and festive decorations, which had captivated Sebastian earlier, were now lost in the midst of his overwhelming emotions.

Despite Harry's attempts to offer comfort, Sebastian's distress showed no signs of abating. The scene unfolded like a poignant tableau of a well-intentioned holiday moment gone awry.

The contrast between the joyful ambiance and Sebastian's emotional turmoil painted a bittersweet picture, one that highlighted the unpredictability of childhood emotions in the face of holiday expectations.

With Sebastian in the midst of a tearful meltdown, Harry looked apologetically at Santa, a mixture of frustration and regret etched on his face. "M’sorry. M’thought he'd be excited, but it seems like s’all a bit overwhelming f’him."

Santa, with a warm and understanding smile, nodded reassuringly. "No need to apologise,. Happens more often than you might think. Children, especially the little ones, can find meeting Santa a bit overwhelming. It's all part of the holiday experience."

In a gesture of comfort, Harry gently lifted Sebastian from his lap, cradling him in his arms. The tears continued to flow, and Sebastian sought solace in his father's embrace, burying his face in Harry's neck.

The soft strands of his long hair became a source of comfort as Sebastian clutched onto them, the rhythmic playing a small distraction from the overwhelming emotions.

Harry, his heart heavy with empathy, whispered reassurances to his son, "S’okay, buddy. Everything s’okay."

He swayed gently, attempting to ease Sebastian's distress. The bustling grotto faded into the background as the connection between father and son took center stage, the soothing hush of whispered comforts filling the air.

Sebastian's cries gradually softened, but he continued to hold onto his father, finding security in the familiar embrace. Harry, understanding the need for patience, remained steadfast, allowing the moment to unfold naturally.

Feeling the weight of Sebastian in his arms, Harry looked down at his tear-streaked face and whispered, "Shall we go home and see Mummy?"

Sebastian, still clinging to his father, nodded in response, his small thumb finding its way into his mouth. The simple gesture revealed a longing for the familiar comfort of home and the soothing presence of his mother.

With a shared understanding, Harry began to make his way out of the festive grotto, holding Sebastian close. The twinkling lights and holiday cheer gradually faded as they exited, leaving behind the whirlwind of emotions that had marked their encounter with Santa.

As they stepped into the crisp winter air, Harry tightened his grip on his son, ready to bring him back to the warmth and familiarity of home.

Sebastian's thumb remained in his mouth, a silent signal of the need for reassurance and comfort. Harry, with each step, whispered words of comfort, promising the solace of home and the embrace of Mummy waiting there.

#musicforastylesrestaurant #harry styles #harry styles angst #harry styles au #harry styles blurb #harry styles fluff #harry styles imagine #harry styles masterlist #harry styles fake ig #harry styles headcanon #harry styles x oc #harrystylesdrabble #harry styles fake social media #harry styles writing #harry styles x reader #harry styles x y/n #harry styles x you #harrystylesxreader #harry styles one shot #harry styles x yn #harry’s house #harrystylesxyn #dad!harry #dadrry

[studentinpursuitofclouds]

What are the biggest fears of the townspeople in Stardew Valley?

Ok, this is a very interesting question. I tried to take into account the canonical fears of people (the same Abigail and Harvey), as they have dialogues that reveal their fears. Thanks for the ask, dear anon, and enjoy!

Warning: there are references to various phobias as well as sad and unpleasant moments. There is no detailed description but still it is worth warning, it may be unpleasant for someone to read.

Rats. Haley is terribly afraid of rats. Huge and scary rodents almost the size of Haley's handbag ... Eeeeeeep, gross!

To be buried alive in a pile of stones in the mines, to die of starvation or wounds, so that later your soul wanders through these very mines like a damned spirit... For Marlon, this is probably the worst fate that he would not wish even an enemy.

Acrophobia made it impossible for Harvey to follow his dream of becoming a pilot, and to this day he has to face problems due to his fear of heights.

Kent fears that the war with the Gotoro Empire will knock on the door of Stardew Valley, the home of his family and friends.

For Shane, the worst thing is if something happens to his dearest niece. Given that they live close to the forest where wolves and bears live...

Clowns... Penny stays away from the man with the clown make-up at every Stardew Valley Fair.

No matter how much Clint grumbles about his work as a blacksmith and about Pelican Town residents, his biggest fear is being alone. Especially dying alone.

The mere thought of going to the doctor brings panic to poor Vincent's face. And if he needs to get a flu shot, then all the glass and windows will crack from loud crying.

Needles. Bummer, why does Sam need to take medicine not in the form of bitter pills, but as an injection? Of course, he's not as scared as his younger brother, but his mom said that Sam cried a lot louder at the doctor's appointment when he was a child.

Poor Jas is terrified of the dark and won't be able to sleep in her room without her nightlight and plush bunny.

Every day, the Wizard needs to check the seal on his wife's hut, for he is afraid that she, in a fit of revenge, will still be able to unleash her wrath on the innocent inhabitants of Stardew Valley. If this happens, he will never forgive himself.

Sebastian has always loved watching the sea, but swimming in the sea - no thanks. One unpleasant incident in childhood, in which he almost drowned in sea water, discourages the desire to swim even in adulthood.

A huge crowd of people is what Leah fears the most, because she knows many true stories when an uncontrollable crowd in a panic can accidentally knock a person to the ground and trample.

Once Pierre visited an exhibition of vintage dolls in Zuzu city with his wife and said to himself: never again. Why dolls? He himself cannot answer.

Snakes for Marnie. And it doesn't matter if they're poisonous or not. Just the sight of a snake makes her break out in a cold sweat.

Abigail is a brave girl, but spiders have always been her weakness. And the fact that there are monster spiders in the mines... Brrr!

No one argues that good-natured Emily loves animals very much, but the sight of a huge predator like a bear or a pack of wolves causes her only piercing fear. And no wonder, these are wild animals.

For Jodi, it's the fear of food poisoning. An even greater fear is that you will be poisoned by your own cooked food. Even more - if her husband and sons were poisoned at the same time. She always checks five times to see if there are any accidental insects or something else in the dough or in the soup.

Who would have thought that Elliott has signs of lyssophobia. Although he is a very creative and philosophical person, among such people there are often individuals who are afraid to go crazy.

More than once or twice Demetrius refused Sebastian and Mary to have a puppy in the house. And this is not because he is harmful, but because he is terribly afraid of them (the dogs, not the kids).

George is afraid of what is inevitable and, sooner or later, will come to everyone without exception - old age.

It's not for nothing that Robin scolds her husband strongly when he almost set a fire in their house due to an unsuccessful experiment - the prospect of being burned alive in an inexorable flame in his own house scares the town carpenter the most. She treated the wood of their house for the sake of seriousness to minimize the possibility of a fire.

Maru can't stand honey, and that's because honey is the sweet nectar from honeycombs, one of the triggers of her trypophobia.

Sea sirens strike terror into the heart of every sailor, and Willy is no exception. An insidious angelic voice that cannot be resisted will pull you and your ship to the bottom, to be eaten by fish. Some mermaids are kind, but the old sea wolf knows what these sea demons can be.

There is no greater nightmare for Alex than the return of his biological father to the Pelican Town.

Somehow, I got the feeling that Lewis has signs of technophobia. All these gadgets, computers and newfangled smartphones cause him irritation, and then fear when he is forced to use one of them.

Poor Evelyn's heart was broken when she buried her daughter, and she fears more than anything that she will have to bury her grandson too... No mother/grandmother should bury their precious children.

The fear of tall objects, buildings, statues is one of the reasons why Gus decided to settle in a calm Valley, and not work as a cook in a huge metropolis.

#stardew valley #sdv #sdv headcanons #sdv community #sdv shane #sdv alex #sdv sebastian #sdv sam #sdv elliott #sdv harvey #sdv penny #sdv maru #sdv emily #sdv haley #sdv leah #sdv abigail #sdv kent #sdv jodi #sdv marlon #sdv marnie #sdv lewis #sdv gus #sdv wizard #sdv rasmodius #i can't tag everyone I'm sorry

[bapydemonprincess]

Concern

"Oi," A familiar drawl snaps the butler out of his brief mental check of today's chore list. Chin pinched with black gloves. Looking off into nothing.

Currently both the Gardener and Young Master are standing by, all taken care of; bundled up for the winter chill that has hit them hard this year.

The Young Master insisted vehemently to accompany him and Finnian on their wood gathering. Saying all but "I'm completely done with all my work thus far on my studies, I assure you. so let me get out of this blasted stuffy room for once."

Again in the present Sebastian is still mulling over what he'll be shouldered with after their stroll, and so he still doesn't hear (or more like refuses to acknowledge) the chef approaching them, a purpose in his stomping gait as he arrives right in front of the other man.

"Oi, what th'ell you doin', Sebastian, eh?"

He briefly pinches the end of Sebastian's scarf he threw on half-hazardly, violently shakes it for emphasis, then let's it drop again.

All while looking the butler in the eye as if suddenly he wants to have a bout right there in the main entryway.

"You tryin' t'catch yer death on purpose or wot?"

Sebastian practically snorts, but refrains, lips twitching at this sudden appearance of Mother Henning from the usually unbothered and lazy as-all-get-out chef.

"Oh, is there a problem, Bardroy? Would me being a little chilled while going out for but a mere half an hour bother you?"

"Oh you think you'd be just a "little chilled" eh? Thinkin' you wouldn't come back an' end up catchin' a cold or flu, or even bloody pneumonia with 'ow god awful it is out there, eh?"

He waves briefly over to the boys awkwardly standing near by.

"Meanwhile you got them all bundled up fit for endurin' a winter storm!"

"One: They are children and I am not. Two, Bardroy: it certainly is not my first English Winter, trust me, three-"

Bardroy grabs both ends of the loose scarf and this time tugs firmly, making the taller man prattling before him practically fall forward.

But he doesn't.

Bardroy's firm grip makes sure the other man merely is forced right into his face.

Their foreheads knocking gently, as Sebastian's eyes open wider and stare in pure surprise, those thin eyebrows lifted up high for once.

"Listen 'ere, you," Bard growls low, "believe it or not, the deep south o' Arizona an the like get bloody cold as fuck, got it? In the deserts at night a man can freeze t'death before 'e even realizes it. So don't. Fuck. Wiff cold. Don't ya dare go an' fuck with those harsh winter woods, with these boys on tow, an' next thing ya know Finny's gotta carry back a long ass big ol icle of a butler, prolly cryin' all the fuckin' way, too."

He stops. Finally. Panting a little from this tangent out of no where, noticeably getting red in the face too.

And the butler, still enduring having his face pressed into Bard's the entire time... stars to smile.

And his eyes go half lidded again.

Shimmering and dancing with amusement aplenty.

"Ah, so it would bother you to some extent, then. I see."

And he says it so softly it's almost a whisper, or like just a comment he's making to himself.

Growling again the other man pushes this time, in order to straighten Sebastian up and push him a few inches away.

However he doesn't let him go for long. Oh no, the chef proceeds to grumble under his breath (something about "damn stupid pretty boy with no bloody sense a' self preservation I swear-") as he unwraps the butler's scarf from around his neck and then leans in further, almost aggressively thrusting himself up close again, to wind it back round him. Tighter, more hugging his neck, and finishes with tying what is left somehow.

"There, that's better," Bard openly comments, looking still mad about it but now satisfied with himself as he pulls back a little. But quickly, idly, pats the other man's coat front as if to confirm everything is good.

"I'd also suggest a cap o' some kind too, awright. Somethin' like the scarf. Damn the consequences o' messin' up yer pretty hair an' all that, it's about survival and nothin' else, you 'ear me?'

He finally shuts up this time, really meeting Sebastian's eyes this time, and so invested in this he's expecting to see some kind of expression of grat-

Sebastian sweeps in to kiss the man's cheek.

"Thank you dear," he purrs.

And then he's turning back to the boys and trotting to the door with purpose.

"Now. Let's carry on, before we lose anymore daylight, hm? Follow me."

And Sebastian, the Young Master, and Finny are almost out the door.

When the demon hears the familiar loud groan of a man who's just realized his predicament he's gotten himself into coming from back inside.

And Sebastian allows himself the pleasure to grin to himself, eyes shut, looking the picture of a creature who's just won a hard fought battle and all the spoils that entails.

Note: this whole scene is inspired by that now famous kuro chapter title page from chapter 198:

#kuroshitsuji #sebastian michaelis #o!ciel #bardroy #bard #finnian #finny #sebard #my writing #Ofc now imagine it looks loose here because he undid Bard's work on purpose to spite him ;3 grshtdrjk

[meredith-harper81]

Part Of Your World🫀

Prepping for the Oscars 🏆

Chapter 2:

Pairing: Chris Evans x Elyse Harper

Warnings: Fluff

Word Count: 1k

‼️More Chapters are uploaded on Wattpad.. link in my bio :)‼️ Elyse Pov

I woke up startled, by a loud ringing.

"Jesus Christ," I open my eyes and adjust to the light coming into the room. I curse myself and remind myself to close the curtains next time I sleep as the sun is coming in hot. I come to my senses and realize my phone is ringing.

As I go to answer, I see it is Dakota, face timing.

"Why are you awake right now?" I say groaning while jumping out of bed and shutting the curtains and running back to the warmth of my bed....

"Sorry, I didn't mean to wake you... I just didn't make the flight yesterday. I'm still in the East Coast time zone," she says and her voice sounds sick.

"Dakota, don't tell me you're sick," I say with a bit of sadness in my voice.

" I'm sorry babe, the flu hit last week on set and I tried to avoid it but look at me now," she says as she coughs.

Now that I am fully awake. I take a good look at her, and she doesn't look too good.

"That's okay. Take care of yourself. Sebastian is attending and will just have to replace you this weekend...Thanks for that, by the way, I wink at her... Rest. I'll speak to you soon then". I tell her.

"Enjoy and don't stress Elyse and try to have a good time... break a leg and tell Chris I said Hi," she says before she hangs up and I roll my eyes at her.

I decided to stay in bed a little longer since today is supposed to be a relaxing day.

Today's to-do list is a workout and go to the hotel booked for tomorrow.

I eventually ended up falling back asleep.

Soon I wake up on my own accord and check the time. Only to see it's now 12:30 in the afternoon.

I get out of bed, wash my face, brush my teeth and make my way downstairs, and make myself something to eat.

As I'm eating some toast, my stomach starts to cramp badly. I think nothing of it and I get a quick workout in.

After I've showered and changed for the day, I head back downstairs and Maria hands me my protein shake and tells me to have a good day.

I get a phone call from Haley, she tells me I'm needed sooner at the hotel. I get in the car, pop a Tylenol and drive myself to the hotel with a raging headache and sore back.

"Great start to this weekend," I mumble to myself.

Chris Pov

I grab my NASA cap and put it on as we are preparing for landing. I thank the flight attendant and the pilot as I'm waiting for my ride to pull into the airstrip.

The flight attendant asks for a picture. I happily take one with him. I tell him to have a good day as a car pulls in. I sit in the back and dial Scott. I let him know I had landed safely and to let Ma know.

" Chris, do not screw this, and all the best man," He says as I roll my eyes and hang up.

I stare out the window and look to see we were approaching traffic.

I check on Google Maps and notice it's going to be a long drive home with all this traffic. LA Traffic sucks, I mumble to myself, now feeling annoyed.

I was hoping I would be able to spend more time in Boston after filming, but I guess after this will have to do.

Finally, after a long two hours, I make my way inside my house.

I go take a quick shower and put on some shorts and a red T-shirt.

As I do so I notice some of Willow's things are still in the closet. I debate about throwing them out.

I end up calling Megan and tell her I've arrived. I also tell her the Willow situation and she tells me she'll handle it by tomorrow if I leave my house keys under the mat.

Megan informs me Ilaria, my stylist, is coming over to drop off my suit for tomorrow. I hang up and she tells me she will see me tomorrow afternoon.

In the meantime, I give Mackie a call since he will also be in attendance tomorrow, asking him to pop by and we can hang out have some dinner.

Ilaria comes and drops off the suit and tells me what to do with my hair. Plus, she gives me some shoe options.

Mackie agrees and is on his way over as Ilaria leaves. She tells me she is exhausted and had a long day and tomorrow is an even longer day with her newer clients.

She wishes me all the best tomorrow and to call her if there is any problem.

It's now late and Mackie is coming over soon, so start to make dinner. A classic kale salad with some chopped chicken and rice.

I grab two plates and a 6 pack and head to the living room just in time as the bell rings.

I go to greet Mackie, I bring him over to the living room and we turn on a football game and discuss Marvel things and just catch up, and have a few beers.

" So... I hear you are presenting with Elyse Harper tomorrow?" He says as he takes a sip.

"You heard right, my man," I say as I blush a little.

We get to talking and I tell him how at first I didn't know who she was.

"Are you living under a rock, Chris... I mean come on dude, she's gorgeous... how have you not heard or seen her?" He questions.

I shake my head and laugh. "I don't know man, I guess I've been too busy with work, and with my ex," I say with a bit of sadness laced in my voice.

Mackie pats my back, "Well, you're meeting her super soon man," He tells me.I nod and smile.

"Do you think she's dating someone Mackie?... I mean have you seen her...," I say, blushing like a 5-year-old.

"Chris man, I have never seen you blush so hard when talking about someone, but I hate to toot your horn... but... she's never dated anyone... As far as the media knows... She's super private," Mackie says.

I give him a shocked look. " I don't know man maybe, she has never been spotted on TMZ or Dailymail, I guess you will have to wait till tomorrow to find out, and maybe meet Mr. Mystery Man," He says patting my shoulder. I give a small smile.

We finished the 6-pack and our dinner. Mackie helps me clean up and I walk him out. I lock up the house and get ready for bed... As I lie in bed, I smile and am actually excited to attend an event for the first time in ages.

Elyse Pov

I was sitting on the edge of a white hotel bed, staring out into the busy city below me. I so didn't want to be here today, but again I don't have a say in my career and everything is discussed without me... at least we aren't doing a vogue get ready with me tomorrow. Thank god!! I hate doing those.

Suddenly, Haley's cold finger brought me out of my thoughts.

"What's wrong, Elyse?" She asks me.

"Nothing, I'm fine," I tell her.

She tells me the nail tech lady is here to do my nails for tomorrow. Haley also handed me my script for the next day. She tells me good night and she'll see me in the morning.

I smile and greet the nail tech and sit in the chair. I look over my script and see the category and when I'm presenting and the timeline of the show, and thankfully I don't have to sit in the crowd...I am just presenting the 2015 best picture film with Chris.

I'm a little nervous to meet Chris. I've heard so many stories of him being a playboy, or him cheating on his ex. he seems so cocky, and rude being all Mr. America...but nobody knows if that's true... do they.

I always read something about him going back to his old ex-Minka... I remember meeting her at a shoot one time, and I cringed she was so self-centered... I try not to think too much about that, as I will be meeting him tomorrow, and can really know and judge him for myself. I take a deep breath and look back at my lines.

I practice my lines while I get my nails done. I look down and smile as the nail tech paints on this pretty nude color. I thank her after she is done.

I take a hot shower, and as I'm finishing up, I notice my stomach cramps again. I hope I don't start my period, but I already got it this month and I remind myself to make an appointment with an ob-gyn soon ...I didn't even bring anything with me if I do start my period..... I groan and go to bed, hoping this all ends soon.

#andy barber #chris jamal evans #christopher evans #chris evans smut #chrisevans #chrisevansmut #chris evans x reader #chris evans x female reader #chris evans x y/n

[celemee]

"it should have been you" hurt prompt.

Heyooo! Thanks for the delightful prompt. I'm sorry it's sat in my inbox for ages. How would you feel about some Cullbastian? With the added spice of my sorry ass Inquisitor William Trevelyan getting his heart stomped on?

@dadrunkwriting

----

Nobody had expected The Prince of Starkhaven to come in person upon the acceptance of his offer of aid. Least of all Cullen.

Surely the word of his involvement had reached Sebastian's ears; Josephine knew the man to keep well informed of all the movers in Southern politics.

The very same Josephine had insisted upon his attendance of this formal dinner. Bad etiquette for the commander to skip negotiating matters pertaining to forces.

So here he sits, in his scratchy formals, eating food that tastes like ash. Laughing at jokes that don't quite register. Ignoring William's insistent hand creeping up his thigh.

Sebastian, on the opposite side of the table, radiates warmth and confidence. Lips stretched in a wide smile, revealing perfect teeth. Precise in his words, meeting Josephine toe to toe.

"Why don't we get out of here?" William whispers into his ear when no-one's looking.

Cullen's stomach coils — his eyes squeeze shut.

It's not that he doesn't love William. He does.

But had there ever been a real chance... Had life gone differently, had the circumstances not been stacked against them...

"Commander, are you feeling all right?"

Cullen snaps from his thoughts. It's Cassandra who speaks, but he finds Sebastian gazing at him with concern, a hint of regret in his eyes. And as always, his heart skips a beat.

"Quite fine."

William squeezes his hand, smiling charmingly at Sebastian: "The Commander has caught a flu, but he is too proud and hardworking to admit it."

Cullen plays along, and the dinner continues in much the same manner. Laughs are had, plans are made, input is offered and requested, and maps are marked. Signatures signed.

At last, their plates are empty and beds call — Cullen follows William out of the dining hall. Only to be caught by Sebastian.

"A word, Commander?"

William lifts a brow, but seems to read the room. He shoots Cullen a private smile and bids Sebastian goodnight, then turns on his heels and leaves.

Silence stretches as Cullen's colleagues vacate the room, each eager to rest. It's only once they're alone that Sebastian speaks.

"I shouldn't have come here," he starts quietly. "I didn't realise you were..."

Cullen says nothing, biting on the inside of his cheeks.

"...spoken for."

His eyes close at the words. "Am I to understand you came here for me?"

Sebastian shuffles on his feet, looking away. Before he speaks, he clears his throat and nods. "I thought... hm... that now would be a good time. To be together."

A sad smile curls Cullen's lips. His throat constricts, strangling his voice unusable. He does the only thing he can; pulls Sebastian against himself. Wraps his arms around him.

"It should have been you," he whispers, a mountain of regret falling upon him. Truer words he's never spoken. It's always been him. It will always be him.

Sebastian nods into his shoulder, ever understanding. Holding on tight, as if making every moment count.

"I never thought..." Cullen trails off, shaking his head. "No, I didn't believe you'd still feel something for me, after all this time. And William... well, William is a force of nature."

"You should be with him." Sebastian pulls out of the embrace slowly and regretfully, swallowing. There's a sheen in his eyes that probably mirrors Cullen's own. "He needs you."

They stand there in the light of the torches, their eyes speaking in the wordless language perfected so long ago in empty corridors and Chantry halls. Everything that was, and what could have been hanging between them.

"What if I need you?" Cullen asks at last, his voice softer than a whisper.

Sebastian takes his hand, holding it between his own. A spark of hope in his eyes.

"Then come to me after all of this is through. Come to me as a free man."

Cullen sighs, squeezing Sebastian's hand. He's waited for years, and he'll wait for as many more that's needed. But when Sebastian turns to leave, Cullen's heart has never been heavier; the world could end tomorrow.

This could be the last time they meet.

#dragon age #cullen x sebastian #cullbastian #cullen rutherford #sebastian vael #it's tragedy hours here again #oc: william trevelyan #inquisitor x cullen #my writing #dadwc

[taleswritten]

@kitxkatrp from here

Sick and depressed is hardly a good combination. A part of Sebastian is irritated - he hasn't been sick since.....well, since his daughter was still here. Alive. Getting everyone else sick with her germs. The thought makes his heart clench painfully in his chest.

It also makes him crave a drink but with Joseph here, he doubts he's going to make it anywhere near a bottle of booze. Part of him wants to snap at the man, a bigger part of him is grateful to have somebody here when he feels so....lonely.

He opens his mouth to speak, only to turn his head and burry his face against his elbow as he coughs. Damn cold, or flu, or whatever the hell it is.

A moment to regain his composure and Sebastian drops his arm from his mouth. "You don't have to clean my place, Joseph. I'm sick - not incapable." Though....with his depression, it probably does look like a mess. Takeout boxes and alcohol bottles everywhere - maybe he shouldn't fight him on it.

#kitxkatrp #sebastian castellanos interactions

[episodeoftv]

Prelim Results

under the cut is the list of all episodes that will be moving forward from the prelims

The first round of voting starts in 9 hours!

Avatar: The Last Airbender

2.07 Zuko Alone (27.2%)

2.15 Tales of Ba Sing Se (23.4%)

BoJack Horseman

6.15 The View From Halfway Down (36.8%)

4.11 Time's Arrow (22.4%)

Breaking Bad

3.10 Fly (42.1%)

5.14 Ozymandias (35.1%)

Buffy The Vampire Slayer

5.16 The Body (32.2%)

6.07 Once More, With Feeling (28.4%)

4.10 Hush (19%)

Chainsaw Man

1.09 From Kyoto (40.6%)

1.01 Dog and Chainsaw (34.3%)

Community

3.04 Remedial Chaos Theory (47%)

2.23 A Fistful of Paintballs / 2.24 For a Few Paintballs More (37.9%)

Doctor Who (2005)

3.10 Blink (27.6%)

1.09 The Empty Child / 1.10 The Doctor Dances (25.2%)

5.10 Vincent and the Doctor (22.8%)

The Good Place

4.13 Whenever You're Ready (36.9%)

1.13 Michael's Gambit (23%)

Gravity Falls

2.11 Not What He Seems (56.4%)

2.20 / 2.21 Weirdmaggedon 3: Take Back the Falls (19.1%)

House

1.21 Three Stories (50%)

4.15 House's Head (30.6%)

6.16 Lockdown (11.3%)

The IT Crowd

2.01 The Work Outing (34.2%)

2.04 The Dinner Party (34.2%)

Kamen Rider Kuuga

1.35 Emotion (46.3%)

1.12 Teacher (34.1%)

Leverage

3.11 The Rashomon Job (40.5%)

3.15 The Big Bang Job / 3.16 The San Lorenzo Job (25%)

Parks and Recreation

3.16 Li'l Sebastian (46.2%)

3.02 Flu Season (24.4%)

3.13 The Fight (20.5%)

Puella Magi Madoka Magica

1.12 My Very Best Friend (43.9%)

1.10 I Won't Rely On Anyone Anymore (42.4%)

The Righteous Gemstones

3.08 I Will Take You by the Hand and Keep You (51.9%)

1.09 Better is the End of a Thing Than Its Beginning (34.6%)

The Sopranos

4.13 Whitecaps (40.7%)

3.11 Pine Barrens (25.2%)

Succession

4.03 Connor's Wedding (68.1%)

3.09 All the Bells Say (20.3%)

Twin Peaks

2.22 Beyond Life and Death (35%)

3.08 The Return, Part 8 (Gotta Light?) (35%)

#prelim

[didilysims]

Pine Lake Farewell: Ruben

Silas became a highly successful business-sim, yet was always bitter that he had never made it into Science. He built a lab in his basement, but never had as much time to pursue it as a hobby as he would have liked, due to his other commitments with career, family business, and army of children.

Sarah was also in business, but quit to focus on raising her children. With her staying home full-time, Silas saw no need for a Servo anymore, and had Tik-Tok dismantled.

Nathaniel the animal lover spent most of his free time over at Auntie Sophronia’s and eventually took a job as her assistant until taking over the shelter as an adult. He and Erika Swain had mutual crushes but never acted on them, and he wound up dating Francesca Jane Worthington-Rai instead.

Sebastian grew up quietly in the shadow of his much friendlier brother, and was quite happy for Nate to get all the attention. Somehow he caught the eye of the far more outgoing Elise Frost, and the unlikely pair are going strong. Silas wishes his son would find somesim more prestigious like his brother did, but isn’t excessively vocal about the situation.

Roderick grew up to be very business-minded and plans to study economics. Although the family business is promised to his sister, he doesn’t mind, and is excited at the prospect of starting something new to build from the ground up.

Josephine is the tinkerer and most interested in machines, much like her grandmother, Jane. She also inherited her great-uncle’s athleticism, though and an interest in history learns her toward exercising in martial arts and ancient weaponry. She found the scrap-pile of the family’s erstwhile Servo and has been trying to figure out how to put him back together.

Uncle Josh died peacefully at the seniors home, mercifully before seeing Tik-Tok disassembled. He was mourned by friends and family, but especially his girlfriend Eowyn.

Martin lived slightly longer than his older brother, making sure to visit his grandchildren regularly, and be sure that they were all taking their vitamins and a healthy dose of comfort soup during flu season.

Cordelia moved into a suite of her own and turned to serial dating to—in her words—make up for lost time and experiences. She suffered a major demotion at work, followed shortly by a breakdown and general feeling of unfulfillment. She took a vacation to Takemizu Village and met a mysterious old man who advised her to discover herself first. Coming home, she swore off dating for one season and saw a therapist. That season led her to find out more about who she was on her own, which led to another season of singleness and self-awareness...although she did adopt a puppy to keep her company. She moved to the city and found a new position at a bigger publishing house, eventually working her way up to senior editor. She occasionally called up her siblings to say hello but never visited Pine Lake again.

Sophronia happily remained at the animal shelter all her life. Even when her nephew took over running the place, she worked part-time to make sure every furry, feathered, and finned friend got plenty of love and attention. Dating somesim new remained her number one source of off-hour fun, and even in her old age she managed to find plenty of first-datees. She occasionally visited her daughter, when remembering her existence, and always laughed when William tried to lecture her.

#bacc #pine lake #pine lake farewell #household: ruben #household: ruben 2 #household: animal shelter #household: seniors home #silas ruben #sarah ruben #nathaniel ruben #sebastian ruben #josephine ruben #roderick ruben #martin ruben #joshua ruben #cordelia ruben #sophronia ruben #my goodness there are so many of them #i had high hopes for josephine so i'm disappointed i'm never going to see her grow up

[dirtydeet]

William T Spears Omegaverse Headcanons

> uwu

He's an omega. I don't care. He's breedable.

His scent is fuckin uh. The smell of the cold rain pouring outside mixing with the smell of coffee wafting through the air of your favorite coffeeshop. The faint smell of apple shampoo lingers.

When he is stressed (on a normal day) he smells faintly like the cold, cheap coffee you left sitting on your desk because you didn't have the time or motivation to drink it.

I think he goes into dry heat a lot. He does not take care of himself so heat is not pleasant for him. His stomach cramps. He's depressed and sobbing. His "nest" is the sheet and singular blanket on his bed. It's like the worst flu you've ever had mixed with being on fire. Of course this does not stand in the way of his paperwork.

He pops suppressants so much they don't even work on him anymore. His body has literally started rejecting them but he just keeps trying to force them in.

He has some Slut Mode in him. I see it in there. Hidden.

If he finds a proper mate (sebastian) that knows how to treat him right (sebastian) he will open up (to sebastian)

Getting this man to even REST during his heats is a challenge. You've gotta squeeze his hand a little bit in the office, then treat him to lunch. Treat him to a nice day out where he is NOT AWARE he is about to go into heat. Then you cook him dinner and wrap him in a blanket and give him a little massage. THEN AND ONLY THEN he is purring.

b-blankey.

He likes being wrapped up into a Roll and being carried around.

Don't expect to ever not be around him if you have managed to get him to allow you to take care of him during heat. He is glued to you now. Sorry.

#william t spears #headcanons #kuroshitsuji #black butler #omegaverse #sebawill

[musicforastylesrestaurant]

Hey everyone, welcome to my blurb masterlist !!

This is for the cute little ideas I’ll randomly come up with instead of the one shots that take up a lot of time and energy.

This is for when I have random bursts of creativity!

There will be angst, fluff and sometimes poorly written smut 😭

Word of warning, these blurbs will most likely be under 5k as there only supposed to be short, so enjoy <3

the best interruption.

in which, harrys been in his at home office for the majority of the day, and your little one is getting antsy after not spending time with there best friend, so when he’s typing away and answering emails, they stroll into the office, crawling onto his lap.

the finish line.

in which, harrys wife is running the london marathon, having been signed up by her sister in law gemma as a joke and now as she is nearing the finish line, harry is determined to be there to greet her.

airport security.

in which, harry and his daughter madison have a tradition of going on a little father-daughter holiday, they first did it when she was six months old, just before her first birthday and now there doing it just before her second birthday, but today, let’s just say little miss is in a very cranky mood.

in the stars.

in which, harry is remembering you, his beloved wife, mother of his child, that passed away, this is him grieving, remembering the lives that the two of you shared together and will always share together, no matter the circumstances.

sky high.

in which, your an airhostess for british airways, and harry’s been a pilot for british airways for the last four years, and your both working on the same a380 to the big apple.

school pick up.

in which, harrys on school pick up duties for his little one, and it’s his babies favourite time of the day when he sees her best friend, her father standing at the gates.

uncle harry.

in which, after the birth of her baby, you and harry decided to stop by the hospital to see her, where tears fall and memories are created.

boys day out.

in which, manchester united are playing luton town fc in the premier league, and so what better thing to do then take your two football obsessed children to watch there favourite team hopefully win.

carribbean privacy.

in which, you and harry decided to go for a little family holiday to start the new year off on the right foot, and went to a caribbean island, where your just trying to enjoy yourselves, and spend some quality time with your two children, when a couple of fans spot your husband.

when the clock strikes midnight.

in which, you and harry broke up just over a year ago, and have not seen each other since, but when your friend invites you to a new years eve party with all your close ones there, the last person you expected to see walk through the door was him.

underneath the tree.

in which, since officially dating harry for a total of eight years now, courting for three, being married for three and parents for two, you’ve both given each other, such wonderful gifts over the years, and here’s a few of them.

do you still love me?

in which, harrys been acting shifty lately, when your looking for a shirt in his wardrobe, he gets hostile, when you say your going to go and shower, he gets hostile and for some reason doubts start to creep into your mind about what he’s been doing, so when you confront him about it, he tells you of his secret all along.

santa’s grotto.

in which, harry takes his two year old son, sebastian, to go and see santa because your at home sick from the flu, but it doesn’t go aswell as he hoped seeing as all little kids appear to have a phobia of the man dressed in red.

i saw mummy kissing santa claus .

in which, when you and harry are putting the christmas presents under the tree on christmas eve, with harry dressed up in a santa costume just for his own novelty, and share a little moment to themselves, unbeknownst to them that there four year old son arlo, was watching the whole time.

daddy’s new hair style.

in which, your fiancé returns home one afternoon, shocking both you and your son milo when he appears to be sporting a new hair cut, neither of you seemed to be prepared for.

pumpkin patch.

in which, you and harry decide to take your son teddy to the pumpkin patch in honour of it finally hitting october, the three of you decide to make a day of things, and let’s just say the day doesn’t exactly turn out how you all expected it, a series of unfortunate events occur and that all starts out with your fiancé getting annoyed that the sat nav isn’t helping him very much.

snack wars.

in which, on this episode of snack wars, we sit down with a certain curly headed lad who goes by the name of harry styles who happens to be comparing british and american snacks.

the terrible twos.

in which, travelling with your husband around europe hasn’t been the most smooth sailing, especially when your daughters currently experiencing her terrible twos.

sick on tour.

in which, touring europe was meant to be a fun thing to do as a family, but when your toddler suddenly developes a sickness bug, you watch with fond eyes as your husband takes care of your little one, nursing them back to full health.

london experiences.

in which, whilst walking around the streets of london with your fiancé harry and two year old daughter mila whose currently getting her molars growing in, things appear to be going swell until a fan asks for a photo and your little one has to be disturbed.

broken ankle, karma rules.

in which, going on a run with your fiancé of two years means harmless flirting and teasing, that is until an incident occurs and he has to carry you back to the car.

jealous baby styles.

in which, five days ago, you and harry welcomed another little baby into the world, but the blissful baby bubble isn’t all it turns out to be when you have a toddler as well.

airport chaos.

in which, harry’s just finished his show in barcelona, and is en-route to madrid, but there’s one more hurdle that needs to be jumped when fans bombard him, you and your one year old son finley. this results in a very agitated harry, a tearful toddler and a wife that’s claustrophobic.

like father like son.

in which, in 2018, you and your fiancé harry welcomed a little baby boy into the world, and his name was sammy. him and his father were exact replicas of each other, same brown tousled curls, forest green orbs, matching dimples and bunny teeth, harry jr. loves everything to do with his father, wherever he went, he wasn’t far behind.

the box.

in which, your husband is ready to go on stage for fifteen out of fifteen nights at the kia forum, and the crew team come up with a way for him to get to the stage unnoticed, but his three year old daughter wants to get involved as-well.

the bath tub.

in which, your looking for your husband backstage at his concert, and get directed by a crew member that he’s in his dressing room. things get heated the second you walk into the room, and there’s nothing like a quick quickie in the bathtub.

styles on the reins.

in which, harry’s looking after his two year old son, parker whilst you go out with your aunt, so they decide to go on a walk around the small streets of italy where your currently residing, but that’s easier said then done when the little one is just as feral as his father.

a helping hand.

in which, your six months pregnant, your sweaty, ankles are swollen and your nauseous all the time, getting on the boat was a slightly easy task, but the task of getting off the boat is a lot harder, but luckily your husband is there to help you.

wedding day blues.

in which, it’s your and your fiancés wedding day, getting married in the garden of your shared italian villa, surrounded by your close friends and loved ones, but you can’t help but let the nerves get to you.

tired baby styles.

in which, you, harry and your one and a half year old son, elliott are holidaying in spain, where your little one won’t go down for his afternoon nap, so your boyfriend comes up with an idea to get him to doze off.

your blue birds.

in which, whilst your at home dealing with your sickness bug, harry takes the little one to the stadium with him so he’s out of your hair, that’s where you get sent a photo of them that makes you feel ten times better.

#musicforastylesrestaurant #harry styles #harry styles angst #harry styles au #harry styles blurb #harry styles fluff #harry styles imagine #harry styles masterlist #harry styles fake ig #harry styles headcanon #harry styles x oc #harrystylesfic #ha #harrystylesdrabble #harry styles fake social media #harry styles x reader #harry styles x y/n #harrystylesxreader #anon #harry styles one shot #harry styles writing #harry styles x yn #harry styles x you

[drgrlfriend]

My Heart Will Be Your Home

Chapter Eleven: The Flu is posted!

[ID: The words “My Heart Will Be Your Home” appear in golden cursive handwriting, surrounded by photos of Garrett Hedlund as Clint Barton, a small white kitten sleeping on a toy, a young girl with blonde curls looking at a stuffed narwhal toy, Sebastian Stan as Bucky Barnes, a one-eyed golden retriever dog, and a man performing on aerial silks. In the photo of Clint Barton, his shirt is unbuttoned partway and golden writing is visible on the skin where his shirt collar gapes open.]

My Heart Will Be Your Home by dr_girlfriend

Excerpt:

By the time Clint is due for his next dose Bucky has clean sheets on his bed and all the dishes washed and put away, the rest of the apartment tidied up as well.  Bucky checks on Bug one more time and then pours Clint another glass of Gatorade, sitting down on the coffee table facing him.

“Clint.  Sweetheart.”  He loops one of Clint’s hearing aids over the ear he can reach, thumbing it on.  “Wake up for a minute, okay?”

Clint had his face mashed into the back of the couch, but he turns toward Bucky’s voice.

“I’m cold,” he whispers.  His eyes are slitted open but unseeing.  He’s shuddering, and Bucky’s heart lurches.  

He grabs two of the acetaminophen, propping Clint up a little and holding them up to Clint’s lips.

“Take these, okay?  You’ll feel warmer in a minute.”

Clint doesn’t seem to hear, but when Bucky presses the pills onto his tongue and holds the glass to his lips he takes a sip of the cold Gatorade, swallowing them.

“Is he here?” he asks abruptly, pushing the glass away.  “I need my bow, where’d I put m’ bow? —”  He tries to lurch to his feet but he’s unsteady, and it’s not hard for Bucky to ease him back down to the couch.  

“You don’t need your bow, sweetheart.  You’re okay.  Everything’s okay.”

“Bu’ it’s cold.”  Clint’s teeth are chattering now.  His normally sky-blue eyes look faded and grey in the pale light of single lamp Bucky left on.  “He’s here.  That’s how it starts.  S’cold and blue, and then he takes it.”

“Takes what, sweetheart?”

“He takes your mind,” Clint hisses urgently, and a shiver runs down Bucky’s spine.

#winterhawk #clint barton #bucky barnes #hawkeye #the winter soldier #marvel #avengers #mcu #marvel comics #mhwbyh #my heart will be your home #fanfiction #my fic #deaf character #deaf!clint barton #single dad!clint barton #single parent au #soulmates au #whob 2022 #winterhawk olympic bang 2022 #fraction/aja!clint barton #comic!clint barton

[random-imaginess]

MASTERLIST

New added posts will be marked with a * by it HARRY STYLES Night Terrors Tour Anxiety

ARON PIPER - Ander Munoz -

Top Secret

Kit Connor

- Nick Nelson-

MUNRO CHAMBERS - Eli Goldsworthy - Ruin Cute Relationship Stuff Study Break * Deep Breath In

DARYL DIXON Whiplash Knitted Scarf

SEBASTIAN STAN Alone

- Bucky Barnes - Safe Anxious Stay With Me Sprained Ankle Man's Best Friend Cuddle Interrupted

- Lee Bodecker - When We First Met Nothing To Worry About Insecurity Friday Nights

Chris Evans Jealous

- Andy Barber - Drained Flu Season

- Ransom Drysdale - Too Nice | Part 2 | Part 3 Shut Up And Kiss Me

SHAYNE TOPP Broken Glass Thunder And Lightning *Halloween Vibes

AARON TVEIT Keep You Safe

FIC RECOMMENDATIONS Evan Peters - Jimmy Darling - Happy Place | By @rax-writes

#masterlist #harry styles imagines #harry styles x reader #sebastian stan imagines #bucky barnes x reader #lee bodecker x reader #chris evans imagines #andy barber x reader #ransom drysdale x reader #shayne topp imagines #eli goldsworthy x reader #daryl dixon x reader #evan peters imagines

[jayankles]

The Culmination: Endgame

Pairing: Sebastian Stan x Reader

Word Count: 2362

Summary: Y/N doesn’t feel so good and it’s not like her to not answer the phone to Sebastian. He was right to send over Josie, Y/N’s friend, over to find out what’s wrong.

Warnings: Angst, Implied Smut, Fluff

Written for: @anyfandomangstbingo​ | @anyfandomfluffbingo​ | @anyfandomgoesbingo​ 

Squares Filled:  Sick fic | first time | “I really don’t like doing this over the phone”

A/N - Blake Lively is not a representation of the reader; it’s just for the dress. And the other beautiful woman is exactly who I pictured for Josie.

Feedback is gold and appreciated

Of course, you were sick today. The day that Sebastian had told you that he was to take a day at the gym then spend it with Don. You knew that when you woke up this morning it wasn’t going to be a good day, the cold sheets a little foreshadowing of how your day would have gone. The little guttural feeling you had punching you in the gut right now, it had you on the floor, bent over the toilet seat with your head in the bowl.

You felt awful. Unable to move, unless it was your throat spasming. Definitely the worst day so far, you couldn’t move and when you finally were able to move at all you felt like a robot. Not a good look.

You decided that it was time to head back to bed, none of your food would stay down so you made yourself a bottle of water and stumbled into bed with a bucket in your hand, ready to put the bucket on the floor beside your bed.

Pulling at the covers, you curled up under them and took a swig of your drink. Tears rolled down your face as you felt the pain grow stronger, you rubbed your stomach in hopes it would make you feel better; it didn’t.

All you could do was pray that you would fall asleep to not feel this pain anymore. Sleep evaded you. The pain is all there is that you feel. You threw up another three times before you finally succumbed to the pleasures of sleep. Rattling of keys had been the object that had drawn you out of your few moments of slumber. You didn’t dare move though, there was no point, you couldn’t move anyway.

“Y/N! Y/N, where are you?” It took you a minute to realise that it was your friend, Josie, shouting your name in hopes of finding you. “Y/N, Whe- There you are. What are you still doing in bed? Oh...”

She looked as if she sighed out a breath of relief before she retracted, covering her mouth and nose with her hand. Inhaling the stench of the room, she quickly ran out of there, returning with air freshener, spraying it around you to make her feel better.

“You need a bath, babe. Stay here and I’ll run you one. Of course you’re going to stay here, you poor thing.” Josie rambled, you stopped her before she could go on for another hour.

“Jo, pour some lavender in there. Love you.”

Freshly out of the bath after thirty minutes, you were wrapped up in Sebastian’s bathrobe, a reminder that he was home as it still smelt like him. “I hate feeling like this. It sucks. But I feel better already.”

Josie softly smiled at you, pity in her eyes. “Must have been that nap you took but I know it sucks. Could you imagine Seb with this kinda illness, though? It would be 100% worse just because it’s man flu.”

“Thank you for being here.” You said, taking a seat on the couch. “What are you doing here anyway?”

“Seb called, said he tried texting and video chatting you but you wouldn’t pick up. I guess he was right to have me come over and check on you.”

“He’s such a cutie.” You groaned as you walked, the bath only slightly relieving some of the pain.

“I know. It makes me wanna barf… not like you, though. That shit is nasty, no, thank you, ma’am.” She tutted through a pinched nose, reminding of just how gross you felt and smelt not even a mere hour ago.

“You’re a pleasure as always, Jo. Always so kind to me, when I feel like shit. Thank you.”

She shrugged knowingly, a smirk on her face as she reached forward for the remote, finding a music channel and turning it down a little so it faded into the background becoming nothing but white noise. “So do you know what brought this on? Eat some bad food?”

“I don’t think so, otherwise Seb would feel the same way right?”

“Well you aren’t pooping as well as being sick so this isn’t a viral or bacterial thing. You’re not burning up? No severe migraines?” She asked and you only had one answer.

“Nope. And no, my appendix hasn’t burst because I’ve already had it out.” You said, becoming tired again as you let out a yawn.

“Well, I think I might need to slip out for a little bit.”

“Why? Where are you going? I thought you were going to take care of me?”

“I am. I’m just gonna head to the store and grab you some stuff to make tomato soup. I’ll be twenty minutes tops.” Josie was true to her word, never taking more than the twenty minutes she promised. Putting the bag of groceries on the counter, Josie pulls out the contents, revealing the ingredients she offered to get for you but you could tell that there was something else in the bag.

“What’s in there?”

Josie was fidgety, her fingers twiddling together. “I need you to keep an open mind because I think I know why you’re grossly throwing up.”

“Hit me. I wanna know how I can feel better right now.”

“It’s a good thing that you’re sitting down because…” She paused, making a face that she knew you weren’t going to like. “Because I think you’re pregnant.” her face unchanging as she pulled out the pregnancy test.

Then it hit you. 

No.No.No. Fuck!

Hands dancing.

Tongues twining.

Passion blooming.

It was everything you could have asked for when he was away but now that Sebastian was back, you couldn’t keep your hands off of him. You covered every area of the apartment possible.

Oh crap.

“Fuck!”

“Yes you did.” Josie laughed at her own joke, the reaction not quite the same on your end.

“Oh god, Sebastian is going to kill me. He’s never going to want to talk to me. Why was I so stupid? Oh, I’m never gonna hear from him again. I’ll be kicked out. I’ll be a single mother. I’m gonna have to live with you and if I have this baby, you’re gonna hate me, then you’re gonna kick me out too. ”

Josie scoffed at you, helping you scurf back your hair away from your face, making you look into her wide eyes. “First of all, chill. I gotchu, you know I gotchu forever. Sebastian isn’t like that, but if he is you will never see him again and that is a promise and maybe a little bit of a threat. He’ll deserve it if he hurts you so. Just be my alibi if anything ever happens. Just go take the test. Negative? You’re just sick. Positive? You call Sebastian and you talk to him like an adult.”

“Why are you always right? Don’t you ever get sick of it?” You huffed before you smiled at her, squeezing at her hand after taking the small handful of the pregnancy test boxes back to the bathroom.

Five minutes passed and you were holding the peed on sticks in your hand, four out of five of them being positive. “I think I need to call Sebastian, and a doctor.”

After making an appointment with the doctor, you took a deep breath and pressed the button to call Sebastian. He picks up the call pretty quickly and you are not surprised.

“Y/N! Finally! Are you okay? What happened?”

“Hey bubba. I’m fine, just a little sickness. But I really don’t like doing this over the phone. When are you coming home. We need to talk.”

Two months later.

It was the night of the premiere of Avengers: Endgame and you couldn’t be more thrilled for the success that the Marvel Franchise had. It was 10 years of absolute lovable craziness. Thank you, Stan Lee.

You had no idea that you would be here on the aptly coloured, purple carpet with Sebastian after all you would have thought that you would still be with him after the whole pregnancy fiasco but the two of you were able to talk things through. Things were thrown, voices were raised, and tears were shed but still after all of that, Sebastian made the executive decision to calm the two of you down. The stress was no good for anyone at this point. You were both going to be parents; it’s what was established.

The two of you walked hand in hand, palms sweating as the cameras flashed, and photographers called out to each and every star that was involved in the production of Endgame. The culmination of the whole franchise was just so surreal, the fact that it was ending with a bang both made you swell with pride but it also made you a tad emotional because this collection of amazing characters wouldn’t continue but the legacy they left would. And that was what mattered.

“Sebastian! Y/N! Over here!” You heard from one of the interviewers, looking beautiful in her outfit, Sebastian rubbed his thumb across your knuckles, you were going to be okay. He was right there with you and you had done this a few times before. He was there for you.

“Hi.” “Hello. You and Sebastian answered at the same time, making the interviewer laugh.

“Wait, I remember you. I bought you a soup in a thermos and Tom gave you his jacket. I see we got lucky with good weather today, huh?” You said, smiling at her.

“Yes. You remember me?!” The woman turned to the camera looking right into the lens of it. “Guys, I’m fangirling so hard right now. Ah!”

Once the woman got her fangirling out of the way, she moved onto the interview, trying to get any information that she could before the movie premiered. Sebastian took over that one, telling her that there was no way that they were allowed to say anything about the movie other than he was dust.

“Now we’ve got that movie non gossip out of the way. Are you okay to talk freely about your pregnancy?”

You looked to Sebastian, it was his decision just as much as it was yours, you knew that Sebastian wanted to keep his private life separate from his professional acting career. “It’s okay, honey. Go ahead.”

“I think you’re good to go.”

“Thank you. I must say that you do look stunning in that dress.” She gushed, you thanked her, hiding your face a little. You loved this dress, the nude under layer and the little white and purple flowers that scattered across your dress, your bump barely visible through your dress.

“How far along are you?”

“Well, we’re in the first week of the second trimester. So I’m a little more confident when telling you that.”

“That’s amazing. Was the pregnancy planned at all?”

You made a face, sucking in a little air, looking to Sebastian for a little light to be shed on the situation. “Not at all. It was Y/N’s friend that actually realised that her morning sickness wasn’t her having the flu. She felt absolutely awful that morning, it was enough to know that it was bad when I tried to call her and I didn’t get an answer.

“We had our issues, you know, we didn’t know what to do, we're new at this. But I think that it’s important to know that you don’t abandon your family.” Sebastian softly smiled at you, subconsciously putting a hand on your slowly growing stomach. “I guess that is what this franchise is about though, right? It’s about family and- and looking out for one another. Everybody’s got a somebody here and I love that.”

“And Thanos, fucks it all up and snaps his goddamn fingers.” The three of you and the cameraman began to laugh at your little outburst about the mad, purple titan. “God, I can’t wait for the premiere tonight but I’m scared. For everybody. But especially for me, you know, I’m an emotional person anyway, add a hormonal woman to the mix and a whole lot of angst. Get my ice cream and tissues ready, because I’m coming for you, Thanos.”

“I heard that!”

“Love you, Josh. For the record, Josh is a nice guy, the character he plays is a big old sack of balls and I have no idea how he does it so convincingly.” Lovingly, you made eyes at Seb. “But it’s just like my Sebastian, a dark hydra assassin but in reality he’s a big ball of sunshine and goofiness. And I love him for it.”

“This is- this is what gets me.” The interviewer leaned in a little as Sebastian’s voice dropped to a slight whisper. “I know that she is going to be the best mom for our child because Y/N loves everything and everyone and that is a great quality to have but she’s also caring and matches my goofy side but her sass outweighs mine of course, no one can beat that.”

“Aww, he’s making me cry already. Seb,” you whined. “My makeup.”

“Well that's it folks.” The woman spoke, telling the audience that this was one of the cutest interviews that she had ever taken, that she could die happy and quickly saying congratulations before the two of you were whisked away to walk the carpet again and pose for pictures.

“You’re way too good to me, you know that right?” You said to Seb as you admired the sky blue suit he was wearing over his plain white tee. “I never even got to tell them that this baby will have the hottest dad in the world as well as the sweetest man. Thank you for being my baby daddy.”

Unbeknownst to you, the cameras had caught every single moment the two of you shared. The kisses you shared together, were now shared with the world, all over social media. At this point you didn’t care, you only cared about the man in front of you and the baby growing in your stomach. And this god damn movie!

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