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endless-ineffabilities · 2 months ago

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chemical override (10)

Ewan Mitchell x actress!reader

a/n: as dictated by the results of poll #6, this chapter will include stunt training, clubbing, and an accident. Plus, you've got tub anon to thank for... well... the tub scene :) Oh, and this is kind of 18+. Just a tad.

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Matt and the reader eagerly explore the uncharted waters of their budding relationship. Ewan is booked and busy with the preparation for his new franchise. Will Ewan and his darling even find time for each other, or should they just take this opportunity to let go?

The internet, ever so informative, lets you know that Ewan and Jenna’s arrangement is in its initial stages before he even calls to tell you.

Their first interview with Josh Horowitz is immediately followed by another feature on the movie set, with the two talking about the pre-production, what they liked about the script, and their chemistry, which according to them, came naturally and did not require much work at all. It was practically the thing they had to work on the least. How lucky.

A lighthearted reprieve came in the form of a meme that started circulating not long after their interview with Josh. In it, Ewan is caught looking like he's either malfunctioning or deep in a philosophical crisis. The internet ran with it, with captions like, ‘When you realise you left the oven on at home’, to comparing him to an NPC glitching out.

When you asked him about it, he quickly stammered that he simply spaced out. Sure. It was hilarious, nonetheless.

Your publicist Mallory had commented that soon Ewan and Jenna would be obliged to go on pap walks, something that would appear casual and separate from the confines of the project that they’re working on. Something that signals that their relationship is making it into the real world.

“That whole casual ‘just friends hanging out’ vibe they’re gonna push? It’s all part of the gig,” Mallory shared. “Next thing you know, they’ll be taking long walks on the beach or grabbing coffee in some trendy LA spot.”

You’d be lying if you said it didn’t sting. Even just a little. Sure, you know what the business is like. You’ve been on the same end of that deal just recently, with your own film’s PR efforts. But this arrangement that Ewan has doesn’t seem like the usual short-term fling to drum up buzz. It feels… heavy, like something that might actually stick.

“I’d be lying if I say I don’t find it all annoying, darling, but I try to look at it now as part of the job, you know?” he had said, when he phoned you one evening – his afternoon – to let you know that his stay in LA would be much longer than expected.

You responded with, “Oh, yeah, I completely understand.” What else can you do? You aren’t together – you don’t have a claim to him, and vice versa. You thought that would make things better – easier – but you’re still waiting for that sense of comfort to kick in.

This is for the best, you would remind yourself every time a new headline surfaces.

It’s only been a month since you last properly saw Ewan, since that night on the rooftop. In the early days, he messaged every day, called whenever he had a spare moment. But slowly, the calls have become shorter, more sporadic – chalked up to his increasingly busy schedule. Your tones have become more dispassionate – he blames it on his exhaustion, profusely swearing that he misses you so fucking much, but something feels different.

Your job keeps you busy, with your commitments related to the new season of House of the Dragon, event appearances, and gearing up for the release of your film with Jacob. You are even invited to the upcoming Vanity Fair Young Hollywood Ball, an exclusive party to be held in New York.

And Matt is a more than welcome distraction.

Matt, who has begun spending more time in your apartment after Ewan’s temporary move to LA. Matt, who brings you flowers that are apparently ‘beautiful, but pales in comparison to you’. Matt, who is unfailingly a gentleman, respecting your boundaries and not making a move since that time on your couch after your first date, when you told him to wait.

He sits with you by your kitchen counter, in a disarmingly tight white shirt that leaves little to the imagination, one sturdy hand nursing a cup of coffee and the other on the small of your back to support you as you sit on the high stool, and you suddenly don’t want him to wait anymore.

“Have you decided on what you’ll be wearing to the screening tonight, love?” he asks.

“Why? Does it have to be pre-approved?” you playfully quip, narrowing your eyes at him.

“Ah,” he nods, smiling, playing along, “of course, of course. You think I’m an easy man to date? You’ve got to keep up with my standards, as beautiful as you already are.”

You laugh, playfully mussing his hair, and he catches your wrist before it drops back on the counter. He says, “I ask because I wanted to match you, so to speak. We’d be like two peas in a pod.”

“Oh,” you snort softly, “or you know, like Tweedledee and Tweedledum?”

“Funny girl,” he muses, before leaning forward and capturing your lips in a soft kiss, caffeinated and warm and Matty. You notice that his hand on your back is pressed firmer – he didn’t want you to slip when you leaned in.

Charming bastard. He isn’t making things any easier… or maybe he is.

Maybe he’s it.

But the moment’s broken by a loud, offended-sounding meow. You look down to see Sansa, staring at Matt like he’s personally responsible for all the world’s problems.

“Hey, babygirl,” Matt croons, extending a hand toward her. Sansa, the biggest diva of a kitten, just gives him a slow blink before trotting off, clearly unimpressed.

“Calling her babygirl isn’t going to make her warm up to you,” you tease.

“She already doesn’t seem to like me,” he replies, scoffing. “Which is a shock, pretty much, how can she not?”

“So humble, Matthew.” You smile at his effortless charm, his easy personality. That’s all you seem to be doing nowadays. Matt is like your personal ray of sunshine.

“I’ll win her over,” he declares confidently, sitting upright. “Anything for my lady.”

You roll your eyes. “How very Daemon of you.”

“Actually,” he laughs, “Daemon would probably feed her to Caraxes for being difficult.”

“Matthew!”

“I’m kidding!”

Sansa meows even louder, bounding away towards your bedroom.

“Leave my Sansa alone,” you say, pointing at him accusingly.

He gives you a sly grin. “I will… if you come here and give me another kiss.”

Before you can respond, he slides your stool closer to his with a smooth movement, catching you off guard. You find yourself practically in his lap, his thighs pressing against yours as he waits, looking entirely too pleased with himself.

“Okay,” you sigh deeply, narrowing your eyes, unable to mask the smile that graces your lips. “One kiss, but only for Sansa.”

“Oh, shush and kiss me already, love.”

The film screening had been a private event, by invitation only from those who worked on the film. Edward Bluemel, Matt’s good friend, is a fellow actor marking his directorial debut with this film. For a first go, it was impressive, gripping from start to finish. Almost as much as Matt’s hand resting just above your knee, his thumb absentmindedly tracing soft circles into your skin.

Your cheeks had flushed when a particularly steamy scene came on the screen, and it might have been the nervous gremlins in your mind, but you swore Matt’s hand inched higher up your leg.

Now, on your couch, his hand is even higher. He hovers over you, his breath heavy and uneven as his fingers tease at the warmth between your thighs, so close to where you’re already aching for him.

Maybe it was all the dirty martinis you drank at the open bar after the screening, or maybe this was a long time coming. Either way, you want him, and from the way his lips move urgently against yours, he wants you too.

It dawns on you that the tension is no longer something you can talk yourself out of.

He pulls away, and you protest with a mewling whine, your body arching into him. He nearly growls in frustration, the unspeakable sound you just made having a direct line to his hardened cock. With a gentle tug at the nape of his neck, you pull him back down to your lips, but he resists.

“We have to slow down,” he chuckles mirthlessly. “Because we’re about to cross a line that I won’t be able to hold back from, love.”

“Matt – ”

“I understand – ” He licks his lips, letting out a slow and controlled breath. “ – that you want to wait – ”

Your confession comes out slow and measured, letting him know that this is what you really want. “Maybe I don’t want… to wait anymore.”

“Say that again,” he says slowly, his eyes darkening in lust.

“Maybe I… I want you to fuck me.”

“Maybe?” he whispers, his voice rough, practically pleading.

“Oh, just fuck me.”

That’s all it takes for him to snap.

He undresses you in record time, ripping off every item of clothing from your body with an eagerness that betrays just how hungry he is for you.

Neither of you even bother to travel to your bedroom. At some point, your entwined naked bodies slip off the couch and onto your plush carpet.

And you have a heated… What was it called again?

Oh right – a damn good roll in the hay.

The water is still warm in your deep clawfoot tub, steam rising gently from the surface. You lean back, head resting against the porcelain, that blissful post-sex daze settling over you.

Matt slides into the water opposite you, his movements slow, deliberate. His eyes haven’t left you since he stepped in, and you can feel the weight of his gaze lingering on your skin. It isn’t just the remnants of your earlier intimacy – though that heat still hummed in the air between you – it’s something more. Something you can’t name and maybe you’re afraid to, but it tugs at you all the same.

A small smile plays on his lips, the kind that made your chest tighten – half teasing, half dangerous.

“Enjoying yourself?” he asks, voice low and smooth.

You exhale a soft laugh, running your fingers lazily through the water, trailing small ripples across the surface. “I’m not exactly complaining, am I?”

“Good. Wouldn’t want you to have second thoughts.” His tone is light, but the undercurrent of meaning isn’t lost on you.

You close your eyes, letting the warm water soothe your tired muscles, but even with the comfort of the bath, you can’t quite escape the one person lingering in the back of your mind.

Matt isn’t Ewan, but he’s here, his presence steady, his charm disarming. He makes you laugh, makes you feel wanted in ways that are simple and uncomplicated, and maybe that’s what you need right now. Maybe it was okay to let yourself enjoy this, to live in this moment without overthinking what it meant.

“Penny for your thoughts?” Matt asks, leaning forward.

You open your eyes, catching the glint of amusement in his. “Just... thinking.”

“Dangerous territory,” he teases, reaching for your hand.

“Hmm, maybe,” you murmur, meeting his gaze. “You’re too charming for your own good, you know that?”

He chuckles deeply. “I’ve been told. But I like to think it’s part of my appeal.”

You roll your eyes, though you can’t help the smile tugging at your lips. “Cocky bastard.”

He grins, leaning in even closer, his breath warm against your cheek. “Takes one to know one.” His hand travels to your leg underneath the water, massaging gently.

“I’m serious, though,” he says softly, his voice taking on a more earnest tone. “I don’t want you overthinking this. We’re good, yeah?”

You nod, but there is a flicker of something else in your chest. Guilt, maybe? But Matt is right here, and he isn’t asking for anything more than what you could give, and for now, that is more than enough.

“We’re good,” you whisper, leaning in to press a soft kiss to his lips.

He smiles against your mouth, his hand moving to cup the back of your neck, pulling you in closer. “Good,” he whispers back, his voice a low rumble that sends a shiver down your spine. “Because I’m not done with you yet.”

You laugh, the sound muffled as he kisses you again and positions you on top of him. You shuffle forward and discover a very obvious indication that he’s ready for round two of rolling in the hay. Or in the tub. Whatever works.

He looks absolutely enraptured when you ride him, your motions causing tremors in the water.

And in the sheer pleasure he gives you, surrounded by flickering candlelight and the smell of lavender, you allow yourself to let go.

The event has the industry buzzing - an exclusive event by Vanity Fair celebrating the rising stars of Hollywood. A masquerade party, the notion of which excited you to no end. You’d only read about such in books, in its medieval iterations, all poofy skirts and velvet waistcoats, the whole concept full of prestige and mystery.

You spent days prepping with your team, the anticipation building until it felt like a living thing inside you. Your dress, a beautiful piece from Atelier Versace, fits like a glove, one side made of draped black sequins shimmering like liquid night against your skin. The theme is Midnight Elysium, and you look every bit the part - dangerous and glamourous and untouchable.

Your makeup team did an impeccable job. Your eyeshadow resembles a swirling galaxy, a blend of silver and noir. Your lipstick is a perfect nude shade that matches your skin tone and your features.

But then there was the mask. The final, necessary touch. Delicate black lace that settles over your eyes, framed with gold filigree and flecks of silver – sharp and ethereal at once. It was a piece of art, something you personally commissioned from a local designer in your hometown.

In a room where everyone claims to know everyone, a mask can be more than just a costume piece. It can be a weapon – giving you the freedom to be both seen and unseen.

Stepping into the nightclub is like slipping in between worlds. Black velvet drapes line the walls, catching the glow of the minimal lighting – gold and silver chandeliers hanging like constellations. The bass from the music pulses underfoot, sending vibrations through your veins. Faces are obscured by extravagant masks, but you are able to recognise some of them if you look close enough. Milly is speaking to someone by the bar, and you remind yourself to pull her aside for a chat later. Timothee is introducing his date to a small flock of people. And Jacob is bounding right for you the moment you make eye contact.

“There’s my leading lady,” he greets cheerfully, swooping down to kiss you on both cheeks. He’s wearing a metallic silver vest and trousers, along with a white mask that covers one side of his face like The Phantom.

“Wow,” you say, making a show of appraising him, looking at all 6 foot 5 inches of his figure up and down. “You look like a handsome disco ball.”

He laughs, the sound unmistakable even in the bustling nightclub. “And look at you! What are you, a cyberpunk witch? A sleek dominatrix?”

“Careful now,” you warn him, “or I might just hex you into getting me a drink.”

“Coming right up,” he says, but his attention is pulled by someone calling his name. “Hold on a sec, I have to introduce you to some of my friends.” You let him lead you further into the room, and you’re swept into the rhythm of it all, moving through the crowd as if you belong – because you do. You’re slowly getting used to the weight of eyes on you, but tonight, it feels as if there’s a shadow you can’t quite shake.

Your personal shadow in a room full of masked shadows. Your skin prickles, an awareness blooming under your ribs. In all the fuss leading up to this event, you hadn’t really bothered to check the full roster of attendees.

After several rounds of conversation, you excuse yourself for a moment and stand off to the side to take a breather.

And then you see him.

Ewan stands across the room, a drink in hand, his black leather overcoat tailored to perfection. The mask he wears, a sharp cut of black and gold, adds a dangerous air to him. His effortlessly tousled hair sports a smattering of gold embellishments, like streaks of pale blonde hair. You take him in, every inch of him, that mischievous curve of his lips and the glint of his blue eyes underneath that mask.

It hits you like a tidal wave, like a fucking hurricane, the longing you’ve tried to suppress for weeks.

You shouldn’t want him this much, not when you both agreed to the break. To keep some distance. His fake romantic arrangement had made sure of that. And after everything, you knew that some separation was what you both needed.

But seeing him now, looking at you like he’s starving… it’s enough to unravel every careful thread you’d stitched together since you last touched. You want to look away, pretend that this is just another night, that he’s just another fellow actor among the crowd. But the pull is too strong. It’s as if your legs move on their own volition, and you slowly move through the crowd, almost subconsciously drawn to him.

He steps deeper into the shadows of the club as you approach, disappearing into one of the more secluded alcoves draped in heavy black velvet. No one will see you there. No one will know any better.

The world narrows down to just the two of you, and the music becomes a distant hum. It’s quieter, darker, and for all the trappings of the Hollywood elite, Ewan is far more intoxicating.

“You’re here,” you whisper, half in question, half in disbelief.

But he’s already moving towards you, his eyes dark and hungry behind the mask. The air between you crackles with an undeniable need – weeks of distance, of longing, building up to this moment. He’s close enough that you feel the warmth of his body through your dress, and you so badly want to forget that this is a bad idea.

“I can’t stay away,” he says, his voice low and raw, like it’s costing him to hold back. “Not tonight.”

You swallow, your heart pounding in your chest, every rational thought slipping away as his fingers skim the bare skin of your waist through the slits in your dress. “We… we can’t,” you manage to say, but even to your own ears, it sounds weak. Oh, who are you trying to fool?

“How can I not? Fuck, how can you look like that and expect me to just walk away?”

You want to say something, something sensible, something to remind him of the stakes. But nothing comes to mind, not when his hand brushes up your arm, raising goosebumps in its wake. His other hand slips to your waist, pulling you closer until there’s no space between you. He dips his head down, breathing against your shoulders and your neck, taking you in like a vice.

“Ewan,” you finally croak. “We agreed not to – ”

“I don’t bloody care,” he cuts you off, his mouth inches from yours. “We agreed to give it some time, sure, but I never agreed to stop wanting you. Besides, I make good on what’s asked of me. I play the part. I deserve to be rewarded, don’t I? And you’re the only prize I desire.”

His words hit you hard, melting any resistance you’d been clinging to.

“Oh? So… so I’m just a prize now?”

He only smiles. “The only one worth winning.”

Before you can think, before you can stop yourself, you pull him closer and crash your lips into his.

The kiss is hard, fierce, his mouth feverishly attacking yours. He tastes bittersweet, all hard bourbon and cigarettes. You’re certain that the lipstick your makeup artist painstakingly applied would be wiped clean off. His hands grip you harder, fingers digging into your flesh, pulling you closer, deeper, like he can’t get enough.

You break apart, gasping for breath. His lips are slick, shining in the occasional flicker of neon blue and red lights, his mask casting shadows across his sharp features.

A bright flash from the party's official photographer erupts in the corner, thankfully not pointed in your direction. Still, it momentarily shakes both of you back to reality.

“Come with me.” His hand slips into yours, fingers curling possessively as he pulls you away from the cacophony of the club. You barely have time to react before you’re being led down a narrow, dimly lit hallway. He pushes open a door, leading you into a smaller room bathed in that same cold, electric blue. Plush seating is arranged haphazardly in the corners, but the space is mostly empty. The low hum of the bass still thrums in the distance, but it’s reduced to a faint echo. The smell gives off cigarette smoke and spilled liquor.

“Smoking area,” he says with a half-smirk, glancing around the room as if seeing it for the first time himself. “I think.”

“You think?” You raise an eyebrow.

He shrugs, utterly unconcerned. “Who cares? It’s just us in here.”

You shoot him a look, glancing back at the door. “Someone could walk in.”

He chuckles, stepping closer, that familiar heat radiating off him like a furnace. “It’s a party, darling. They’re probably wasted out of their minds. And besides…” He taps the edge of his mask, his eyes glinting mischievously behind the black and gold. “The masks?”

You bite your lip, trying to maintain some semblance of control. “And if someone does walk in?” you ask, arching a brow. “What then?”

He steps closer, crowding into your space, the tension thick between you. “Then they get a show,” he says, his voice playful and teasing, but laced with something darker.

“Are you fucking serious?”

“You can still walk away, darling,” he offers, trying to bait you when he knows full well that he already has you hooked. “Or, you can just shut up and kiss me.”

So much for giving it time. Ewan’s lips find yours once more, just as desperate, and you barely notice when he directs you to the seating, your back colliding with its velvet exterior. His low groan sends a wave of heat pooling in your stomach, and you think to yourself, this was a terrible idea.

Your hands roam, finding the planes of his chest. He smoothly takes off his leather overcoat, revealing his bare torso underneath. The sight of it makes your head spin, and you croak unsteadily, “Ewan… not here, baby, we can’t – ”

“I know, darling,” he croons, his hand cradling your face. “I just wanna kiss you. I just want you… to touch me…” His other hand takes yours and drags it down the firm lines of his stomach, a desperate plea in his eyes. “Please, just – ”

The moment is abruptly shattered by the sound of giggling from the hallway, getting louder. Suddenly, the door opens and in stumbles a pair of girls, one of them you recognise to be Jenna.

“Oh!” The other girl exclaims, clearly delighted by the situation she’s just walked into. She pulls off her mask, revealing herself as Emma Myers. “We found him! We finally found your date.”

Your heart plummets, right down on the liquor stained carpet.

“Hi,” you manage to squeak, getting to your feet and smoothing down your dress which had ridden scandalously higher up your thighs. “I’m – ”

“Oh, I know who you are,” Jenna says, shaking your hand, not the least bit bothered by the state she found you and Ewan in. “I love your work. I’m Jenna.”

“Oh… thank you – ”

Emma steps in, grinning. “Hi! I’m Emma. I’m such a fan.”

“Oh my god, I should be saying that to you guys!” you blurt, feeling a rush of relief at their easy demeanour. “I love Wednesday.”

They both gasp, and soon the three of you are exchanging compliments like old friends, chatting about each other's work with enthusiasm. Ewan, still seated, watches the scene unfold with barely concealed frustration. He eventually stands, shrugging his leather coat back on, and glances at Jenna.

“One of our producers is here,” Jenna explains cheerfully. “She’d love to chat with both of us.”

Right. Ewan’s her date. The word echoes in your mind, but the jealousy you expected to feel is oddly muted now.

Ewan speaks, addressing only you, “Darling, will you – ”

“I’ve got her,” Emma declares, looping her arm around yours. “I’ve got so much I want to ask you!” Before you know it, she leads you out of the room like you’ve been best friends for years.

Ewan’s eyes stay on you, full of frustration and yearning, even as he and Jenna follow you out the door.

But you barely see him for the rest of the night.

The party is a blur of celebrities and conversations, but your mind keeps drifting back to that stolen moment in the blue-lit room. Eventually, your social battery runs out, and you slip out of the club early, unnoticed by most.

Back at your hotel, you peel off your dress and drop onto the bed, staring up at the ceiling as the events of the night replay in your head. The feeling of his hands on your skin, the heat of his body pressed against yours – it’s all too much.

Your phone buzzes on the nightstand, snapping you out of your thoughts. Ewan One-Eye flashes across the screen.

You hesitate, thumb hovering over the screen, but you pick up. His voice is low, almost cautious. “You left early.”

“I was tired,” you reply, voice soft. “The party was great but it was... a lot.” Mainly because of him.

A beat of silence follows, and you wonder if he's wrestling with what to say next. “Are you okay?” You can almost picture him running a hand through his hair, jaw clenched, eyes dark with worry.

“Yeah, I’m okay,” you say, unable to hide the tremble in your voice.

Another long pause, with only his slow breathing on the other end.

“I hate this,” he finally says, voice barely above a whisper, the raw emotion in his words hitting you like a punch to the gut. “I fucking hate that he gets to have you, and I don’t… and I can’t… ” He cuts himself off, and you hear the snap of his lighter followed by his sharp exhale.

You bite your lip, your throat tight with emotion. You’ve both been so careful, dancing around each other, pretending that you could stay apart.

“I’m flying back to London tomorrow night,” you blurt out, the words rushing out before you can stop them. It feels like a confession, like you’re admitting defeat.

“I need to see you before you go.”

“Ewan, we agreed – ”

“Fuck what we agreed!” His sudden outburst takes you by surprise, and you hear the raw need in his voice. “I don’t care about the arrangement, I don’t care about the distance. I just... I need you.”

You want to tell him that you need him too. You want to throw caution to the wind and agree to being together in secret despite the false romance he has to portray to the world. But you can’t.

“I...” Your voice falters. “We’ll see each other soon.” It doesn’t feel like enough. With a soft sigh, you add on a lighter note, “Alyna still has to kick Aemond’s ass, you know.”

A beat passes, and then you hear his tired laugh on the other end. “Right,” he chuckles softly, the sound both comforting and heartbreaking. “Wouldn’t want to keep the fans waiting for that.”

“Yeah, well,” you say, trying for casual, trying not to let your voice crack, “someone’s got to put Aemond in his place.”

“Hmm, well if that place happens to be right in Alyna’s arms, I doubt you’ll hear any complaints about the script from me this time.”

You can’t help but smile at his teasing, but it only deepens the ache in your heart.

“Ewan…” you begin, but the words hang in the air, unspoken.

“I know, darling,” he replies, his tone resigned yet gentle. “I miss you too.”

The training room is alive with the sounds of clashing swords and laughter, but you can’t help but feel a different kind of electricity buzzing in the air. Maybe it’s just the way Matt looks at you, as you rehearse a scene where Daemon helps Alyna brush up on her sword fighting.

You lunge forward, initiating the first move with confidence, and he counters effortlessly, the blades clashing in a symphony of steel. The practice moves are intense, each swing bringing you closer. His eyes darken with focus as he follows your movements, and for a moment, it becomes easy to forget the rest of the stunt crew in the room.

“Nice footwork,” Matt compliments, stepping in closer. His body brushes against yours, sending a rush of heat through you. Ever since your night together, he has only been more brazen with his affections. “But you’re leaving yourself open here.” He demonstrates, his sword brushing against your side as he adjusts your stance.

“There,” he says, his voice dropping lower, “feel that?” You swallow nervously, grateful that the stunt coordinator had moved on to Harry in the far side of the room.

“I think I might be too open,” you manage to say, trying to keep your tone light.

“Maybe,” Matt murmurs, stepping back slightly but keeping his gaze locked on yours. “But I can’t help but want to close the distance.”

As you move through the choreography, you both fall into a rhythm, and almost inevitably, the fight turns into something more playful. You circle each other, exchanging faux blows and laughter, the distracting banter causing the stunt director to approach and get you both back on track.

Next up, you have to train for Alyna’s pivotal scene where she attempts to mount Caraxes as per Daemon’s command.

As you practice the mounting technique on the mechanical dragon, you’re hyper-aware of every movement. The crew watches closely, ready to offer guidance. You grip the handles tightly, adrenaline coursing through your veins, and for a brief moment, you lose yourself in the character, feeling the thrill of the scene.

But then it happens. The Buck jolts unexpectedly, throwing you off balance. Time seems to slow as you feel yourself slipping. You try to brace for impact, but it’s too late. You land hard, the pain shooting through your ankle as it twists at an unnatural angle.

There is a stinging sensation too, by the side of your head, and all you think is – oh fuck. The world around you fades to a blur, just as chaos erupts.

When you finally regain consciousness, the sterile scent of antiseptic fills your nostrils. Your surroundings come into focus slowly, and your heart races when you realise you’re in a hospital room. The steady beep of a monitor is the only sound, punctuated by the faint rustle of fabric.

You feel his hand on yours before your eyes even land on his figure, slumped on a chair beside your bed. His head rests on his shoulder, his grip still lightly holding your hand. His brow is furrowed in worry, even in sleep.

You feel lightheaded, and for a moment you worry that your concussion might be worse than it is, but no. It's just him.

Then, the sound of your movement catches his attention. He stirs, his eyes fluttering open, and when he meets your gaze, relief instantly washes over his features.

“Love… you’re awake.”

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Some notes in the margins...

Well, well, well. Yous were convinced that Matty would get the clubbing scene, helped by the red herring of his dancing video. Alas!

Is that Matty at the end there? Or a certain Mitchelly man? Hmm... one wonders. 💖

Complaints? Refund requests? Please direct your thoughts in the comments section below. I can 100% guarantee a satisfying solution. Or 70%.

Or, you know, bugger it. We're all in this together, better or worse ❤️‍🔥❤️‍🔥❤️‍🔥

#ewan mitchell #ewan mitchell imagine #ewan mitchell x reader #ewan mitchell fanfiction #matt smith #matt smith x reader #chemical override #aemond targaryen #aemond targaryen x reader #house of the dragon #hotd

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makeyoumine69 · 6 months ago

Note

i would love to see more jealous patrick ❤️😫

Hello, dear anon!💗

Ohhh, jealous Patrick is a thing!

In the middle of dinner with Bateman's family in Dorsia, the reservation Patrick had been trying to get all week, you needed a moment to powder your nose. On your way back to your table, you were playing with the ring Patrick had gifted you a week ago—a huge gem shone on it whenever you rolled it between your fingers—but when you were distracted by the waiter, you accidentally dropped the ring, and if the stranger hadn't caught it, it would have rolled across the floor to God only knew where.

"Oh, thank you so much!" You beamed and smiled as the unfamiliar but handsome man returned the ring.

"It's nothing, really." He replied, examining you curiously from head to toe.

Such attention made you embarrassed, but then you felt a burning sensation between your shoulders. When you turned around, you locked your confused gaze with Bateman's, his hazel eyes piercing through yours like sharp daggers.

"Uh, thanks again! But I have to go!" With these words you walked away from the stranger before he could tell you something else.

Sheepishly you approached the table where Patrick, his parents and his brother Sean with his date were waiting for you. And even though Bateman's face was devoid of emotion, the moment you took your seat, his large palm found its way to your inner thigh in the blink of an eye.

"So, who was that guy?" He whispered in your ear, leaning closer so only you could hear. "And why was he touching you?"

You let out a shaky breath and smiled politely over Mrs. Bateman's comment that she was glad you were finally back. "What?" You asked bewilderedly without looking at the man next to you. "I just dropped my ring."

"You dropped the ring?" Patrick almost chuckled, his hand diving deeper between your legs under the table, forcing you to grab it to keep him from going any further. "Forgot how to wear a ring, sunshine?" The man took the opportunity to nip at your neck while everyone at the table was busy with each other. "When we get home, I'll remind you… I'll remind you of everything."

His skillful fingers reached beneath your skirt no matter how hard you tried to stop them. Now, they were brazenly playing with the lace of your panties and perfectly hiding beneath the soft material of your dress.

"Patrick," you gasped, gripping the table to stifle a moan as Bateman pressed his thumb against your blushing clit. "Please," your pathetic pleas only brought a broad grin to his smug face. "Stop."

And then Patrick's mother asked you a question you couldn't even hear as your whole body was focused on the rising tension in your lower abdomen as the man was relentless in his intentions to work you up.

"Excuse me…could you please repeat your question? You asked, completely awkward.

Patrick smirked arrogantly and leaned back in his chair. "She asked if you liked the food," he muttered mockingly, before shoving his two digits into your oozing pussy. "Believe me, Mother, she is enjoying the evening. Am I right, honey?"

Paralyzed, you were about to explode at how shamelessly Bateman was behaving, literally fingering you in front of his family. Biting your lower lip for a second, you tried to take a sip of mineral water, but the man wouldn't let you as he intensified his ministrations, curling his fingers to stimulate that spongy spot inside you that made you grip the surface of the table once again.

"Yes…everything is perfect," you managed to blurt out, sensing the cool metal of his Rolex gliding along your hot skin, the contrast only heightening the pleasure. "Thank you, Patrick."

"You're welcome, darling," the man chirped, leaning closer to peck your cheek in an affectionate, pretending way, only to purr into your ear. "Tonight I'm gonna fuck you so hard you won't even remember your own name." And with that, Bateman sat back, looking cheeky as ever, as he felt your inner walls contracting around his fingers once he began to rub your little bud with his thumb.

Mrs. Bateman couldn't help but smile. "Oh, you two are so adorable! Such a loving couple."

With a soft chuckle, Patrick grinned in pure delight. "Thank you. We really are."

Bastard.

#american psycho #patrick bateman x reader #patrick bateman imagine #patrick bateman #patrick bateman x female reader #patrick bateman x you #slasher x reader #slashers x reader #slasher x you #slasher smut #patrick bateman smut #patrick bateman headcanon #christian bale smut #christian bale x reader #patrick bateman reader #christian bale #patrick bateman imagines #answered asks #asks are always welcome

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moonlightazriel · 10 months ago

Text

What matters most /// Azriel X F!Reader

Summary: "i’m not sure if you taking requests but I was wondering if you could write something for Az where he has a whole mate and child/family and the IC doesn’t know bc he was to scared for people to know and therefore putting his little family in danger 😭 kinda just an angsty fluffy fic 🫶🏻"

Warnings: Mentions of injury, angst and fluff

Word Count: 2,4K

Notes: This request was so fun, i love this fic very much. Thanks again for the request anon ❤️❤️

Main Masterlist

Tired eyes roam around, wings almost touching the ground, Azriel’s focus on the other side of Velaris as Rhysand kept talking about the same problems in the Hewn City. He really tried, but the tugs in his chest urged him home. To her.

“We need to go there next week.” Rhysand looked around, his eyes landing on the clearly distracted Shadowsinger. “Everyone must go.” He emphasised, making Azriel internally groan in annoyance.

He wanted to ask for some time off, take his mate and their daughter on a vacation, enjoy their presence and just be with them for as long as he could. Rhys dismissed the meeting and he immediately jumped out of his seat. He wanted to be with her, hold her in his arms and tell her how much he missed her. A month away from his mate and their family was always hard, crushing his spirit and draining his energy until he was by her side again.

Without a proper goodbye and completely ignoring Feyre’s invitation to stay for dinner, Azriel fled, his wings carrying him with the wind. The house on the outskirts of Velaris irradiated life. The faelights surrounding the garden welcomed him home, he happily sighed, pushing the door open and sniffling the air, chicken and herbs filled his senses, a tint of strawberry mixed with chocolate chips.

He smiled as the strawberry scent grew stronger, and a pair of arms wrapped itself on his left leg. He looked down, the toddler, 3 years older than Nyx, moved herself around, the tiny wings slowly whooshing in the air as he scooped her up.

“Mommy! DADDY’S HOME.” Little Selene screamed, and he kissed her cheek.

“How are you, baby? Did you take care of mommy for me?” The little girl nodded excitedly.

“I did, and mommy took good care of me too.” Her arms wrapped around his neck and she kissed his face, loudly smacking her lips against his skin.

“I don’t deserve a kiss too?” His beautiful mate appeared in front of him, some hair strands falling from the bun she always wore while she cooked, a dirty apron covered her front and she held a wooden spoon, Azriel never saw a much more beautiful sight in his entire life.

Placing Selene on the floor, he pulled her by the waist, his lips delicately brushing against her warm ones. Bliss was the only word close enough to describe the feeling of being in her embrace, being near them, his two girls, the two people he loved the most in this world.

“How was the mission?” She asked, grabbing his hand and leading the way towards their bedroom. Azriel could see the candles illuminating the bathroom, and the bathtub filled to the brim with water and foam, his favourite soap filled his nostrils. She always had a bath ready for him, a pair of fresh clothes and a warm meal whenever he got home from a mission, he could stay two days away or two years, he would always get home to that.

“Incredibly annoying, I couldn't wait to be done and come home.” He discarded his clothes, her hungry gaze watched his every move, he could hear her swallowing hard at his naked figure. He submerged in the hot water, his muscles relaxing right away, she sat by the tub, a cloth in hand and started to rub his back.

“And I couldn't wait to have you back home.” She rubbed a particularly hard spot on his neck that had him moaning in relief. He rested his head against her thigh, her long fingers stroked in between his hair, massaging his scalp. “Lene has a surprise for you.” She warned and he looked at her.

“What is it?” His wife giggled, and raised an eyebrow, which always indicated that she would keep quiet. He smiled at her, stealing the cloth from her hands and rubbing himself. “Then I'd better hurry up.” She nodded, getting up and heading out of the room.

⋆˙⟡☾𖤓☽ ⟡˙⋆

“As we trained, baby.” Y/N spoke, the late night breeze was a comfortable relief against the hot summer night. Azriel sat by the porch, Y/N held Lene’s hand and the little girl looked at her mother for reassurance. “You won’t fall, and if you do, daddy and I are here to catch you, always.”

With a confident gleam in her eyes, Selene’s wings moved, forcing her body upwards, little by little she started to float, her little hands slipping out of her mother’s reach. Azriel watched in complete awe as his daughter flew, her little body being carried towards the main gate and back to her mother. A month ago, Selene couldn’t go anywhere without holding their hands.

He got up, clapping and urging her for another lap towards the gate and back to him. Her dark hair moved around in the wind, her flushed cheeks and her proud expression crashed against his chest. She squealed in delight as he held her, spinning her around.

“That was so amazing. My girl is growing up so fast.” He kissed her cheek. “Soon you will be flying faster than your old daddy here.” Selene nodded in agreement.

“I’ll be the fastest Illyrian in the world.” Her mother came up to them, her fingers poking her belly, making Selene squirm and laugh.

“You will, my love. But now it’s time to go to bed, okay?” The little girl looked at her father, her mothers eyes looking at him. She was the perfect mix of them both.

“You heard your mother.” He leaned to whisper in her ear. “We can’t disobey her, or else she’ll ground both of us.” Selene nodded, and they took her inside. Azriel placed her in bed, kissing her forehead and wishing her a goodnight, once again telling her how proud he was of her flight.

“She wanted to train all month.” Y/N said, removing the hair tie and letting her hair fall loose, she removed her clothes and reached for one of his old shirts that reached the middle of her thighs. “I wish I could teach her more.”

Despite being a full born Illyrian, Y/N was born without wings, no one understood how this even happened, but Azriel was glad that she was spared from the wings clipping cruelty that still happened on the camp she was born.

“You do more than enough, tonight just proved it. She’ll carry you when you’re too old to even walk.” She laughed, her beautiful smile plastered across her face.

“So I only get to fly when I'm in diapers?” She rested her head against his chest.

“Okay, okay. I’ll take you flying tomorrow.” He rolled his eyes and she playfully slapped his chest. “You have no idea how much I love you.” He blurted after a minute of silence. “I’ll ask Rhys for some time off.”

“You will?” Her big eyes turned towards him, hope sparked in them. He knew he worked a lot, and she was very patient with him missing important things, but someone could only be patient to a certain point, he knew she would snap soon and he didn’t blame her.

“I will, I promise to you.” She kissed his chest.

“I love you, Az.” He could see the excitement covering her tone even if she tried to hide it, he was going to ask Rhys after the trip to the Court of Nightmares, he was sure that he would understand.

⋆˙⟡☾𖤓☽ ⟡˙⋆

Azriel fixed his leathers, the new syphon in his chest was a shade darker than the others, he had used his main one to make a ring for Y/N and a necklace for Selene, so they would always have an important part of him with them. The remaining of the stone was well guarded in case he needed to make more jewellery for Lene’s future siblings.

“Everyone ready to go?” Rhysand’s voice sounded from somewhere behind him, but before he could muster a response, a piece of paper materialised itself in front of him. At the same time, his chest was flooded by a wave of pure distress and fear. He shifted anxiously, opening the paper.

“Selene got too excited flying and she fell, i think she broke her arm. I’m taking her to the healers hall, please meet me there.” The words sank in his chest, she was eager to fly a longer distance because he had said if she could fly until she reached the tree a few feet away from their house, he would take her flying for a whole day. It was his fault.

He didn’t register the voices calling his name, he just wanted to get to Selene as fast as he could. He was halfway into the threshold, hand on the cold doorknob, ready to leave, when his body suddenly went completely still. He couldn’t move.

“I told you to stay.” Rhysand’s High Lord voice commanded and he growled, turning to him slowly.

“Let me go.” Azriel demanded. Rhys raised an eyebrow, he never had to use his powers on Azriel because he never failed to do his duty.

“Whatever is wrong with you, it's not more important than this trip, i told you everyone must go.” Everyone in the room could see the rage simmering in the Shadowsinger’s gaze, his golden eyes burning holes in Rhysand’s skull.

“I don’t want to fight with you. LET. ME. GO.” His pure will of being with his family pushed Rhysand’s restrainings away, they silently watched as he started to move.

“I already told y..” Rhysand was cut short by the furious laughter of Azriel.

“Nothing is more important than my daughter.” The words left his lips, leaving the whole inner circle astonished, his what? “Let alone that maggot who thinks he’s better than you.” Azriel turned around. “So I'll see you later.” And with that he left.

Azriel kept his little family hidden from everyone, even from the people he trusted the most in the world, cuz he could never forgive himself if something ever happened to them. The thought of having them kidnapped and used as a way to get to him, their bruised bodies and broken spirit always flooded his mind whenever he thought of revealing them to the world. They were his most precious treasure and he would do anything in his power to keep them safe from the people who could harm them.

“We need to go after him.” Feyre said, the distressed expression on his face completely shattered her heart. “And you will apologise, he would never fail his duty if it wasn’t important for him, you should’ve let him go.” She scolded and guilt filled Rhys’s violet eyes. He nodded, the Hewn City could wait, his brother was more important, and apparently his niece’s wellbeing too.

⋆˙⟡☾𖤓☽ ⟡˙⋆

As the inner circle arrives at the Healers Hall, they spot Madja, she’s talking to a female. The female holds a little winged girl tightly against her chest, the little girl has a cast on her left arm, her little eyes are red with tears, a wet trail down her cheeks and the cutest pout ever. Without needing confirmation, they just know that it’s them.

They slowly approach, Azriel’s eyes meet Rhysand, he’s holding a glass of water and heading back to the female’s side. She’s too focused on Madja to notice the group coming behind them. The little girl notices tho, her eyes looking curiously at them, her features painfully familiar to the male standing by her side. Azriel whispered something to the female as Madja left.

She turned to them, her hand smoothing the girl’s hair. They looked beautiful together, and they wondered if she was his mate. By the way he pulled her close, they could only assume that yes, she was his mate. They could only guess what reason he had to hide them, the family he always wanted, how heavy this secret might’ve been to carry alone.

“What happened to this beautiful girl?” Feyre asked, stepping forward. Selene looked at her parents for reassurance, the two of them nodded slowly.

“Tell what you’ve been up to, Selene.” The female’s soft voice sounded. Feyre almost laughed with the coincidence, certainly Azriel noticed it. Selene the goddess of the Moon and Nyx the goddess of the Night.

“I wanted to fly like daddy, but I fell.” She lifted the cast to them. “Do you want to sign it?” Feyre nodded, despite looking like Azriel, she wasn’t as shy as he was.

“Not now baby.” He said, his eyes locked up in a staring match with Rhys. “Maybe later, when they come over for dinner.” The High Lord nodded, they wouldn't miss this chance of learning about this secret part of his life.

⋆˙⟡☾𖤓☽ ⟡˙⋆

The house was cosy, in a quiet place, like they always pictured Azriel’s house as. Coloured markers were scattered around the living room table, everyone needed to pick one and sign Selene’s cast in order to access the rest of the house, as she happily demanded. Swirls of shadows, hearts, flowers and names marked her cast, she meticulously examined every single drawing, before happily dragging the three year old boy along with her, towards a pile of toys.

Y/N, as she introduced herself, was moving around the kitchen, different aromas lingered in the air, Elain was immediately by her side, chopping vegetables. Feyre and Mor prepared the table, while Nesta watched over the kids. The females talked, getting to know all they could about Y/N and their family. She happily engaged in the conversation like they were long time friends.

Azriel, Cassian and Rhys sat by the living room, cups filled with liquor. Rhys wanted to apologise, so he cleared his throat, his violet eyes filled with regret. The two males stopped the chat, turning to him.

“I’m so sorry for how I acted. I should’ve assumed that you would never leave if it wasn’t important for you.” The Shadowsinger nodded. “I should’ve never stopped you.”

“And I should've told you, a long time ago.” He answered.

“No, you didn’t have to.” Cassian intervenes.

“He’s right, you had your reasons, I would've done the same for Feyre and Nyx.” Azriel smiled, knowing very well that he would, in fact, do the same if he ever needed to.

“I don’t want to hide them anymore.” He looked over to his mate, talking with his sisters in law, and his daughter, playing with her cousin.

“Then we’ll be glad to be their protectors.” Rhysand spoke. Cassian reached for his and Azriel’s hand.

“As long as we live, they will be safe. All of them. That is a promise.” And their skins prickled, a tattoo forming to seal the bargain made between the three brothers. As long as they lived, their families would always be safe, no harm would ever get to them.

#acotar #azriel shadowsinger #sarahjmaas #moonlightazriel #azriel #shadowsinger #azriel x reader #night court #azriel x y/n #velaris #azriel acotar

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aphrogeneias · 4 months ago

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ease your weary mind — one-shot

pairing: rockstar!eddie munson x assistant!reader

summary: not a first date, but some firsts of many for this unlikely couple.

word count: 1.1k

warnings: fluff, mild angst (reader overthinks, but eddie reassures her), brief smut (+18).

author's note: this is based on a request by an anon who wanted to know more about their first time and how it went down. i lost the original ask due to a glitch, but i hope they see this <3 thank you for reading.

He'd started kissing you when you'd turned the corner, and didn't stop until you'd reached the hotel lobby.

It was a full house that night, the entire ground floor filled with fans of another band that was also passing through the city that same weekend, loitering around the reception and lounge areas. It was the perfect disguise for you and Eddie as you were returning from your date, the guitarist pulling you by the hand through the crowd and into the elevator.

Not before stopping every few steps to steal a peck from your lips along the way.

Eddie had been smiling the whole evening, his dimples in full display while he listening to you talk about your job, your life, and complained about the bullshit Rick was always putting you through.

You didn't let yourself linger on the thought that it was you making him smile like that — was it, really? Or was it just the fact that he finally had a night off in weeks?

It was the kind of conundrum your mind put itself in since you first started seeing Eddie.

That wasn't your first date, there had been others ever since you'd finally given into his pleas. Sharing room service dinners, sneaking out to go sightseeing in whatever city you found yourselves at, late night talks on rooftops. You tried to keep him at arm’s length, but Eddie Munson had a way of slithering into your life like no other man ever had.

You'd be lying if you said it wasn't his charm, but it was more than that. Eddie was patient, gentle — much unlike the stage persona he had cultivated. Despite being loud, and proudly so, he never pushed you too far.

Not even you'd taken this long to let him fully kiss you.

A few dates, months of mutual flirting, weeks of sneaking around. It was only that night, outside the small Italian restaurant not far from the hotel you were staying at, you’d let him kiss you properly for the first time.

Not the small kiss he'd given you backstage when you agreed to go on your first date. Not the various, small kisses he'd stolen when you were distracted, and not the cheek and forehead kisses that made you melt each time they caught you off your guard.

Now, he couldn't stop.

The elevator was almost full when you squeezed yourselves in, and you would be lying if you said you weren't tense. Scared of being recognized, of what would happen when you arrived upstairs, of what would change between you.

From behind you, Eddie rested his head on your taut shoulder, arms enveloping your waist. He whispered under the chatter of the tight space you're in, sensual voice sending a chill down your spine, “Can't wait to get you alone.”

And as he lavished the side of your neck with tiny kisses, you felt like you should feel as giddy as he was, but you felt like there was something about to drop in your stomach, like something was about to go wrong.

When the elevator dinged as it landed on your floor, you were the one who pulled Eddie forward, away from the cramped box you were in. You thought that would make you breathe easier, but it didn't.

Eddie's kisses were a welcome distraction, pulling your body closer, walking you backwards until you hit the nearest wall. His hand came behind your head to cushion the blow, but his mouth never left yours, hungry lips never satisfied.

You couldn't seem to get enough either, even as your mind reeler with second thoughts, your body responded to his, holding onto his shoulders for dear life. His thigh came between your parted ones as his mouth travelled down your jaw, down to your neck, making you whimper into the air.

“Eddie…” you whispered, “I don't think you should be doing this.”

It was a mere trembled thought that had escaped your lips, when your mind got too loud to contain itself.

Slowly, he untangled himself from you, and you already missed him. One of his hands came to the side of your face, the other rested on the wall behind you. He looked worried, and you mentally chastised yourself for making him doubt. “You mean we shouldn't be doing this here or we shouldn't be doing this at all?”

“Both, I think.” You flinched, but not away from his touch. He flinched too, and his brows furrowed, making his eyes appear bigger. “I'm just scared, I think.”

“Scared of what, baby?” Still, Eddie's thumb ran over your cheek, and you felt yourself melt into his hand upon hearing that pet name, “Scared of me?”

“No! Oh, no. Not of you.” You shook your head, and frowned at yourself.

You were being truthful, it wasn't Eddie you were afraid of. Not gentle, talented, caring Eddie. Not the man who trailblazed through life but treated you like a doll, no — but deep down, ever since he started making eyes at you from across the room, there was one thing you'd been scared of.

Of being used. Of it all being a ploy to get you into his bed, a challenge. That once he'd gotten you, you'd be a story for him to tell his friends, a footnote on his biography, an anecdote he'd love to recall some years from now.

The pretty assistant who played hard to get, but ultimately couldn't resist the Munson charm.

A shaky exhale left your parted lips, but you willed yourself to speak anyway. “Just sacred of this being a one time thing,” your voice was small, and you hates that, “that once you get what you want, you won't even look my way again.”

“Oh. Oh, honey…” Eddie pushed himself impossibly closer, grounding you with his warm body, “You don't have to worry about that.”

“No?”

He chuckled, despite himself. “No. Because once I have you, I'm not letting you go.”

Sighing, you didn't answer right away, but he continued. “You don't have to believe me right now, but I wanna take care of you.” Eddie kissed the corner of your mouth, breathing you in, “Let me take care of you.”

When he kissed you again, you let him — and when he guided you to his room, right opposite yours, you let yourself be carried into his bed, opening your legs to let him rest between the cradle of them, lips worshipping every inch of you.

The sincerity you didn't let yourself see poured through him, through the hands that undressed you reverently, that squeezed and pulled on your curves, that used his fingers to make you grab the sheets under you, losing control of your moans.

Losing track of time when he was inside of you, manhandling you into different positions. Pillows falling to the floor, joining your clothes on the carpet, covered in each other's sweat. Gripping tightly and not letting go.

Not anytime soon.

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson smut #eddie munson fanfic #nothing else matters

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whorekneecentral · 11 months ago

Text

A Sandy Christmas

Sugar Daddy!Jenson Button x Fem!Reader

Warnings: the iconic sugar daddy JB, college aged reader (over 20), expensive vacations, gift giving is his love language, you're both soooo all up on each other, the use of daddy both in a sexual and non sexual context, thanking him in good way ;), oral (m!receiving), penetrative sex (p in v), hair pulling, some old man teasing at the end.

Word Count: 1,714

Author's Note: this is for my og jenson girlies that were here from the start, dedicated to the anon that sent in the first sd!jb ask cause you started all of this pookie!!

merry smutmas series

Jenson takes you on a dream vacation over the holidays but still makes sure you’ve got a gift to open come Christmas morning.

Exam season is killing you, mentally and physically.

Every bone in your body hurt from being hunched over at your desk for 18 hours a day and your brain felt like it was going to explode if you kept it up for much longer.

Jenson knew as much and he also knew your exam schedule; he couldn't bear to see his girl like that so he did the one thing he did best.

He whisked you away the moment your final exam was over. He knew it'd be a welcomed distraction given that you'd be returning home for the new years; your obnoxious sister was getting married to her high school sweetheart - you'd rather fall down the stairs than attend the wedding but Jenson promised to take you in to trade your car for a new one if you went.

To be fair, he did just get you the car 2 years ago but he figured he needed some sort of reward to get you to go. If he could join you at the wedding, he would but alas he can't.

Sunny Bora Bora was a welcomed distraction; the sunshine, the beaches, the endless cocktails and cock, were keeping you happy.

The first few days were you and Jenson rolling around in bed, lazing and eating whenever, barely getting dressed and spending sun up to sun down on the beach. You had everything you needed right there.

Despite it just being you and Jenson, he rented a whole villa. All the privacy in the world for you two; it was more so, so he could fuck you anywhere he liked but I digress.

Christmas morning and you're woken not by the sunshine but the feeling of Jenson's stubble on your neck.

"Merry Christmas, pretty girl."

You hum, a hand on his jaw. "Merry Christmas, Jense."

"C'mon, I have something to show you." He whispers in your ear, not giving you a moment to gather yourself. Instead he pulls you out of bed, his hand in yours as you sleepily follow him though the villa.

There's a massive Christmas tree by the windows, right in the middle but that was there when you arrived. What wasn't there before were all the gifts surrounding the tree.

"Jenson," you stop, looking at him. There's a grin on his face. "You didn't."

"I couldn't let Christmas pass without giving you a gift." He smiles, kissing your temple as he sits on the couch.

"We agreed that this trip was my Christmas gift."

"But the trip is for me too, so it can't count. Loophole baby," he raises his eyebrows, almost as high as his ego. You huff, "this is more than a gift, Jenson."

"You're a good girl, I'd buy you the world if I could." He tells you, smiling as you kiss him.

"I don't need the world, Jenson." You tell him, sitting in front of the tree. There are at least 20 bags and boxes neatly wrapped and set under the tree.

"I'd still buy it for you, princess." He smiles, taking a sip of his coffee as you unwrapped your gifts one by one; Gucci, Prada, Van Clef, Louis Vuitton - you name it, it was under the tree.

You had no idea how you'd get it all back home.

You thank him, doing a little try on haul as you unwrap the gifts. Jenson smiles, sitting comfortable as he watches you model your gifts for him.

"Happy?" He asks, patting his thigh. You sit yourself on his lap, an arm over his shoulder as you lean into him.

"Beyond happy," you whispered against his lips. "Thank you daddy."

"Anything for you, baby."

The two of you go about your day, you'll be leaving your little paradise tomorrow and returning to reality so you were trying to soak up the last of the sunshine. Lazing by the water, you watched as Jenson attempted to surf, gave up and decided on a swim instead, the man came back to kiss you, dripping the sea water all over you.

You push him away, giggling as he tries to grab at you. You rolled away, getting up and running from him; Jenson chased you down the beach right back to the villa.

Jenson planned dinner for the two of you, a little restaurant not too far from your villa. You wined and dined, chatting about his work and your plans not to strangle your sister with her veil. He assured you that you'd be fine and that as soon as the wedding was over, you could return home to him.

Upon returning, you decide to pack. This way you two could spend more time in bed in the morning rather than having to rush and pack then.

Jenson's back is to you as you bring in the last of your presents from the living room. He'd manage to fold what you had brought with you into the one suitcase opposed to the two it was in originally and had been trying to fix your gifts into the empty one.

He feels your arm wrap around his waist, fingers drumming against his midriff as you watch him put the boxes into the suitcase.

You're on your tiptoes, a kiss pressed to his jaw; Jenson thinks it's innocent enough and yet, he feels your lips drop lower. From his jaw to his neck and your fingers are pulling at his shirt collar, trying to expose more skin.

"Sweetheart," he whispers, swatting away your wandering hands. "We need to pack."

"Mhm hm," you turn him to face you, your hand on his jaw when you kiss him. Jenson leans on the edge of the bed, his arms wrapping around your waist, pulling you into him

He was easy like that, a kiss from you and he's like putty in your hands.

He watches as your fingers trail down the front of his shirt, sliding under the hem of it. Jenson takes that as his hint to take it off, tossing it on the floor somewhere. Your hand wanders further down, brushing over the cold metal of his belt.

Jenson smiles, pecking your lips softly. "Let me thank you," you whispered against his lips. His brows furrow, "what for?"

"Everything," you tell him, sinking down onto your knees in front of him.

Jenson undoes his belt and the button, “open.”

Without hesitation, your mouth opens and you’re looking up at him once again. He slaps your tongue with his cock softly, waiting for a reaction. The slight curve of your lips was enough for him to know it was okay. A hand tangled in your hair, pulling and pushing you, setting the pace.

The stifled gag was enough for him to pull back, giving you a moment to catch your breath.

His eyes fixed on you as your lips wrap around his cock, his chest dropping and raising with each breath.

He can’t help but notice the lipstick on the base of his cock, your head bobbing up and down. Jenson's hand pulls your hair away from your face, letting you set the pace.

His hand turns over and you feel his knuckles brush along your cheek. “Like being on your knees for me, hm? My good girl.”

The praise hits you straight in the core, only making you go faster. Your cheeks hollow as you bob your head up and down. Jenson's hips buck, your nose brushing against him.

His head falls back against the couch, breathing out a string of explicits as you hollow your cheeks. “C’mere.” He pulls you off him slowly, savouring the feeling of your tongue sliding up the underside of his cock.

You kiss him, the moan slipping from your lips as he manhandles you.

“Turn around,” he whispers against your lips, a hand on your hip as he turns you around to face the bed.

Your arms are propped on the mattress, holding yourself up. He pushes your dress up, bunching over your hips. His hand slips between your thighs, fingers brushing over your panties and your head drops forward.

Panties pushed to the side and Jenson reached forward, a hand tangled in your hair to pull you up, forcing you to look at the reflection in the window. His other hand holds your hip once he pushes into you.

“See,” he mumbles to himself, glancing down between the two of you before his eyes meet yours in the reflection. “Look how pretty you are,” he whispers, kissing along the back of your shoulder as his hips dig into your ass.

The knot in your stomach tightens when his hand on your hip slips down between your legs, reaching for your clit. He barely moves his fingers before your own hand reaches down to rest on his. The feeling of his fingers pulls your attention.

"Please daddy-" you're cut off by a moan and by Jenson pushing you down onto the bed.

You prop yourself up on your forearms once again, eyes fixed on anything but what he was doing.

He could feel you clenching around him, pushing back into him for more.

“Shh, it’s okay baby, I know.” He tells you, thrusts getting sloppier by the second.

The two of you in sync, Jenson's chest pressed to your back as you came down from your orgasm. He peppered kisses all over your back, rubbing your side softly. He leans to press a kiss to your neck before pulling out slowly.

You can feel Jenson wiping your thighs and between your legs, cleaning you up before fixing your dress. You're still facedown in the mattress, too fucked out to even think about moving at the moment. He senses as much, giving you a push by the ass and up onto the bed you went.

The clink of his belt comes from behind you, the man fixing his pants - you assumed he'd be joining you in bed but instead, you heard some sort of shuffling behind you.

Rolling you, you see that Jenson had resumed his packing from before.

"You know," you start, sitting up. "Most men your age are dead to the world after a fuck like that."

Jenson laughs, walking over to you. His hand cups your jaw, "I'm not like most guys my age."

taglist: @nosugarallspice @evieepepi08 @mimithepooh @koufaxx @dannyramirezwife-simpaccount @topguncultleader @molliemoo3 @aisharmi @mamako23 @ac3may @lewislcver @miahgonzalez16 @books-and-netflix-pls @wibi96 @bwddermilch @pedrisgatorade @clarasenchant @sainzluvrr // @forza55 @norrisleclercf1 @allalngthewtchtower @therealcap @burningcupcakefire @stargirl36 @brettlorenzi3 @guiseppetsunoda @magnummagnussen @flippingmyshit @savrose129 @lovelytsunoda @irda12-blog @dhhdhsiavdhaj @slytheringirlthatkillpeople @f1lovers22 @toomuchdelusion @eviethetheatrefreak @faye2029 @lillians-world-is-f1 @chalando1604 @lenaxwbr @im-obsessed @potashiuhm @lcxlerc16 @enjoythebutterflies3 @lillyfootballsworld @micksmidnights @mashtonbunny @chrlsleclerc @logischeroktopus

#merry smutmas xoxo #jenson button #jenson button smut #jenson button x reader #f1 x y/n #f1 x you #f1 x reader #f1 smut #sugar daddy!jenson

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frvnkcastles · 5 months ago

Note

hello 👋🏻 how are you? first thank you for everything you write, your blog it's my safe place. 💓

aaand i have a request if you like i was thinking in a frank x reader.

where they have been dating for two years and live together. one night she goes to a nightclub with her friends and a man keeps trying to talk to her, but she quickly manages to dismiss him, until she starts to feel like she's going to pass out and doesn't really understand what's happening so she gets up to go to the bathroom and the same man starts going after her, and she realizes that the guy put drugs in her drink, she starts running and locks herself in the bathroom and calls Frank in a panic and he keeps calming her on the phone until he arrives there and when he arrives he takes her home and takes care of her?

thank you💓

HEAVEN IS WHEREVER YOU ARE ➵ F. CASTLE

Summary: When you’re harassed at a club, Frank comes to the rescue.

Warnings: Reader is drugged, harassment, feminine nicknames

Word count: 2.2k

Author’s note: I’m doing okay anon, I hope you are too <3 Thank you so much for this idea! I actually had something like this written from years ago, so I just had to revamp it a little and here we go :) I hope you enjoy!

”Anythin’ comes up, you call me, aight?” Frank’s voice was demanding but full of care and love as he looked at you with intent eyes and his hands on your shoulders. As soon as you had told him your friends had invited you out to the local club, he had been all over you, not only appreciating the sight of you in that dress you only brought out for special occasions, but also making sure you would be okay. He had armed you with pepper spray and now, for the third time, insisted that even if he was going out himself, all you had to do was call and he’d drop everything to come and get you.

”I will. I’ll be okay, baby”, you reassured him, cupping his cheek and pressing a quick but sweet kiss in the middle of his mouth, causing him to lick his lips to revel in the taste of your lip gloss.

Reluctantly, he let go of you and you were well on your way. It wasn’t like he didn’t trust you — he was well-aware you could take care of yourself, it was just that he preferred to be the one doing it. You were everything to him and sometimes that manifested in overly protective behavior, but you appreciated him looking after you and knew it was just the way he was built after suffering enough loss. You didn’t fault him for it, if anything, knowing he was always in your corner was exactly why you felt safe going out into the dark night.

The club and your friends were a welcome distraction from the long week at work, and you felt so free and happy just dancing away with a fruity drink in your hand and the beat of the music guiding your hips. You weren’t exactly the best dancer, but you let the song carry you away, not a care in the world as you swayed and swung.

Time passed quickly in the company of your dearest friends, but eventually, your feet began to ache from the constant dancing and you retreated to the bar for another drink by yourself. Parting ways with your friends turned out to be a grave mistake — as soon as you had ordered another cocktail, a man appeared by your side and boldly invaded your personal space.

”Hey gorgeous, buy you a drink?” he asked with a crooked grin, and trying your best not to cringe at his attempt to charm you, you shook your head. Only Frank had the right to call you gorgeous, and you kept that fact locked and loaded if he wasn’t going to take your first hint.

”No, thanks. Already ordered”, you gave him a polite smile while gesturing at the drink delivered by the bartender. You were about to grab the glass and head back to the dance floor to find your friends, but the tall stranger cornered you, and in an instant, your alarm bells went off.

”C’mon, what’s the rush? What’s your name, princess?” he continued, and with a surge of disgust in the pit of your stomach, you shot him a glare.

”None of your business. Besides, I have a boyfriend”, you retorted, gripping the glass as you stood between the people behind you and the man towering over you. He didn’t look like the kind of guy who got rejected a lot, which was enough to let you know it was going to be an ordeal to get rid of him. If only you could catch sight of your friends.

”Well, I don’t see him here. What he don’t know won’t hurt him”, he countered, and with great discomfort pushing on your chest, you tried to sneak away from him. He stopped you, though, a tight hold wrapping around your wrist, and panic started to make way within your veins.

You refused to let him toy with you any longer, and so, you snatched your hand away from him and forcefully pushed through the crowd. Relief flooded you when you got away from him, but it was a short-lived victory, as a bout of dizziness smacked you in the head, and you staggered. Trying your best not to lose your balance, you held your head in one hand and your drink in the other, but it was no easy task, especially when your vision began to blur.

Changing direction, you headed for the bathroom, but as you glanced over your shoulder, you spotted the stranger following you. You hoped it was just your impaired sight playing games with you, but when you stumbled and your drink flew from your hands, you realized he must have slipped something in it. Fear rose in your throat and you picked up the pace, clumsily making your way to the bathroom and slamming the door shut behind you, making sure to lock it.

As soon as you felt like you were safe, he started banging on the door and cursing at you. ”Open up, you bitch!” he shouted through the wood, and with your eyes brimming with tears, you shakily dug your phone from your purse. You were scared the door was going to give in, even more scared that you’d pass out from whatever he had drugged you with, but with all the strength you could muster, you did the one thing you knew was a good idea — call Frank.

Your hands trembled as you held your phone up to your ear and waited to hear Frank’s voice, your eyes squeezed shut while you drew in shallow breaths. You leaned against the door, your heart running a million miles as you waited and waited until, finally, he picked up.

”Sweetheart? You there?” Frank’s voice crackled through, and stifling a terrified sob, you ran your fingers through your hair.

”I’m sorry—I know you’re out doing your thing but I’m so scared, I—I lost my friends and some guy started bothering me and I think he put something in my drink—”, you began explaining with your wavering voice, only for a bang on the bathroom door to cut you off, your sharp inhale filling the space where your words hung. Momentarily, you tried to pull yourself together but there was no denying the crack in your voice when you continued. ”I hid in the bathroom. Please hurry”, you whimpered, the fear in your voice evident.

”I’m on my way, baby. Stay on the line, yeah? Can you do that f’me?” he spoke, hoping his steady voice would give you something to hang onto, something to ground you. When you responded, he made an approving noise. ”That’s my girl. I’m leavin’ right now, okay? I’ll be there soon”, he promised, and finding immense hope in his words, you swallowed and wiped your tears away. Your head was spinning and you could feel yourself slipping in and out of awareness, time passing even without you fully acknowledging it.

”You whore!” the stranger yelled through the door, loud enough for Frank to hear through the call, only making him more furious. He was keeping his rage at bay for your sake, knowing that his uncontrolled temper wouldn’t do much to comfort you, but he was seething. The asshole who had done this to you was surely going to pay the price, and Frank was going to enjoy every second of it.

”It’s gonna be alright, sweet girl. Don’t worry, ’m almost there”, Frank swore, growing more concerned when you didn’t respond. You were starting to find it impossible to stand, and so, you wound up sitting on the closed toilet lid, your face buried in one of your hands while the other one tried to balance the phone against your ear.

Soon enough, Frank spotted the neon sign of the club and he swerved to the side of the street, hastily parking before jumping out of the truck. With his blood boiling at the mental image of what he’d find inside, he hung up the phone and stomped into the club with his heavy boots, the sleeves of his shirt already rolled up as he looked for the bathroom.

The banging and shouting alerted him in the right direction, and with his fists aching to punch and hurt and break, he strode straight to the man bothering you from the other side of the door. Clenching his jaw, he yanked the guy away from the door by his shoulder, a cold stare in his dark eyes.

”Get the fuck out”, he spoke calmly, the kind of calm that was far more threatening than any shout ever could have been. His voice was dripping with sheer anger, and yet, the man faced him with an unimpressed look.

”Or what?” he chuckled, and without hesitating to show him exactly what he had signed himself up for, Frank grabbed him by the neck and threw him into the wall hard enough for his nose to crack. The man collapsed on the ground with a cry, gaining some attention from the people around but not enough for anyone to actually care.

”Get out”, Frank repeated with just an inch more effort, and this time, it worked. The man scrambled up to both feet and rushed through the crowd, running away to make sure he wouldn’t end up on the Punisher’s kill list — of course, he had already made it there. As if anyone would get away with hurting Frank’s girl.

When he was left alone, Frank took in a deep breath and leaned against the door. ”Hey. Ya in there, sweetheart?” he questioned quietly, all scariness gone from his soft voice as he glanced at his boots and waited for your answer.

You couldn’t describe the relief you felt when you heard him. For a moment, you couldn’t tell if it was real, your head making it hard to focus on anything, but Frank kept talking, confirming for you that he was right there.

”It’s safe out here. Wanna come out or can I come in?” he continued, patiently waiting for you.

Carefully, you got up from the toilet seat and wobbled to the door, unlocking it and letting Frank in. He peeked in only to find you hugging yourself with puffy eyes and red cheeks, and with a sigh, he stepped inside fully. He was delicate as he reached over to you, brushing a thumb across your face.

”All right? He touch you?” he queried gruffly, fearing your answer, but when you shook your head, he welcomed relief. His deep eyes met yours as he lowered his head to be on your level, and he radiated safety and comfort and warmth, and it was enough for you to break.

You stepped closer and clung onto him in a desperate hug, shaking in his arms. ”Thank you for coming”, you whispered, and with his arms folding around your body tightly, he nodded.

”Of course. You call, I’m there. Always”, he stated simply before kissing the top of your head. You stayed like that for a moment, but finally, he pulled away and took your hand. ”C’mere, let’s go home”, he suggested, undeniably worried by your state. It was obvious you had ingested something you shouldn’t have, and even though you were safe with him now, he couldn’t help but consider the worst case scenario. He cared for you so much, it was like the thought of anything happening to you caused him physical pain. He didn’t always have the words to tell you how much he loved you, but he was sure as hell going to show you.

He took you home where he made you drink water and helped you undress before tucking you into bed. He knew you needed the rest, and it didn’t take you long to drift off to sleep, giving him time to plot how he was going to find the man who had hurt you and, in return, hurt him. He didn’t play around when it came to your safety and well-being, and that was a lesson he was going to teach the asshole who had drugged you.

For tonight, his plans were just that — plans. He wasn’t going to leave your side, and he wanted you to know as much, and so, he climbed into bed with you. He couldn’t

sleep, though, far too preoccupied worrying about you and watching over you.

As he tenderly stroked your cheek, you stirred awake, and he opened his mouth to apologize but the words got stuck in his throat while he gazed down at your flawless face. You were so beautiful and he felt so lucky to have you, even if that meant fighting off everyone else.

”Feelin’ better?” he asked quietly, his rough voice so gentle with you, and breaking into a smile, you nodded.

”Thank you, Frankie. I love you so much”, you whispered softly, causing the smallest of smiles to bloom on his face. He leaned down to kiss you, his large hand holding your chin as his lips met yours, and it took your breath away. He always knew how to send your heart flying, and it made your smile widen as you wrapped an arm around his neck. ”My hero”, you added quietly when the kiss broke, earning a snort from Frank.

”I’m no hero. But I’ll always come for you, pretty girl. I love you, yeah? There ain’t a thing in the world I wouldn’t do for you”, he vowed, and as he kissed you again, you knew he meant every word.

#frank castle #frank castle fanfiction #frank castle x reader #the punisher #the punisher x reader

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yanderefarm · 8 months ago

Text

pinned comment activate!! please read the rules

this is an nsft account MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

do not repost my fics. do not feed them to ai. including chat bots.

there will be some dark content and dead dove because of the nature of yandere content to begin with. please be careful and always check content warnings.

i feel like this should go without saying but. I DO NOT CONDONE ANY OF THIS BEHAVIOR OR ACTIONS IN REAL LIFE. this is all fiction and for fun.

be nice. be patient when sending in requests i can be slow and easily distracted.

im ok with fem aligned people interacting and even requesting content just please understand that i will only write male readers.

comments, replies, tags, etc are welcomed and encouraged. if you want to talk in my messages please feel free to!! I'd love to talk to you.

you have my permission to draw or write stories with my original characters if you want to!! id love to see these things

anon list -

🐀 , 😼, 🐙, 🏳️‍🌈, 🥺, 🪐, 🐝, 🍚, 🦇, 🦎, 🦑, 🐕‍🦺, 🎵, 🫥, 🦉, 🦈, 🥄, 🐻, 🧚‍♂️, 👻, tall anon, 🥔, 💍

i will not write: fem!readers, gn! readers, bottom readers, female characters, graphic depictions of violence, graphic descriptions of blood, scat, vore, inflation, graphic depictions of throw up, period blood

i will write: chubby!reader, fat!reader, ftm!character, disabled!reader, yandere!reader, monster!reader, slasher!reader, fluff, angst, hurt/comfort, horror, kidnapping, breeding kink, daddy kink, dub con, non con, spanking, free use, pet play, forced fem, objectification, bimbofication, cervix penetration, knife kink, primal kink, dark content, hucow, lactation, dry humping, other freaky shit im not remembering right now

if you're curious if I'll write something feel free to ask!!

(and if i end up writing something i said i wouldn't don't look at me)

you can call me bunny, im 25, i use he/him pronouns and im transmasc. i love men and i love yanderes. i also like weird shit im so sorry in advanced. i post a lot of oc content and shitty art so enjoy the show

if you have any questions feel free to ask!!🐇🐰

last updated; 10/23/24

Original Characters

Ares (Housewife Yandere)

Emil Landorr (Mad King Yandere)

Nephite (Omega Cultist Yandere)

Silvan (Vampire Pet Yandere)

Ajax (Pornstar Yandere)

Noemie (Follower Yandere)

Achilles (Crime Lord Yandere)

Fandoms

Honkai Star Rail, Genshin Impact, Degrees of Lewdity, Hazbin Hotel, Helluva Boss, Jujutsu Kaisen, What in Hell is Bad, Nu Carnival, Creepypastas,

Genshin Impact;

breeding dottore

————

Honkai Star Rail;

jing yuan x jiangshi

blade x yandere

boothill x cyborg

skott x supervisor

dan feng/dan heng x mate

————

What In Hell Is Bad

for heretics (lucifer)

————

Hazbin Hotel

priest vox x his god

valentino x bull demon (with yandere vox)

————

Original Characters;

ares #yandere housewife

house wife yandere & part 2 & part 3

housewife yandere introduction

extras: spanking ares, ares getting jealous, finding ares mid kill, pampering and breeding, ares with another yandere, distracted, arguing with him, the collection, wrong name

art: thank you, kisses, ref sheet, halloween costume

emil #yandere king

yandere mad king & part 2

yandere mad king introduction

extras: emil getting jealous, cuddling with emil, morning wood

art: halloween costume, kisses

nephite #yandere cultist

yandere omega cultist

yandere omega cultist introduction

extras: nephite getting jealous, temptation

art: halloween costume,

silvan #yandere pet

yandere vampire's pet

yandere vampire's pet introduction

extras: silvan getting jealous, comforting silvan, warmth, putting on a show, spanking, collars, petting

doll au: doll saga, wedding doll

art: doll, halloween costume, gold star, kisses

ajax #yandere pornstar

yandere pornstar

yandere pornstar introduction

extras: biting ajaxs chest

art: halloween costume, tattoos

sable

noemie #yandere follower

yandere follower

yandere follower introduction

extras:

art: halloween costume, tattoos

achilles #yandere crime lord

yandere crime lord

extras:

art: halloween costume, tattoos

all of them

baby trapping (ares & nephite)

what if (ares & silvan)

piggy club (ajax & noemie)

art: expressions

references: hair, measurements,

sfw: if you were a worm, asexual reader, chubby reader,

secret admirer, if the reader died, their voices, jealousy,

reader snaps, abused reader, your face in their neck,

ftm reader, on halloween, petting them, their favorite pets,

whos a good boy?, getting a shot, tall reader, presents,

coming home drunk,

nsfw: the one with lactation, the one about butts, freak in the sheets,

himbo reader, service top, top au, the loudest,

ftm au: coming out

divider credits:

hearts & labels & content warning & dark content warning

#sub yandere #dom male reader #dom reader #sub genshin #top male reader #amab reader #yandere x male reader #yandere ideas #seme male reader #male reader

365 notes · View notes

sixosix · 7 months ago

Note

hiii i fear tumblr may have ate my ask so i'll say it again just in case--if not im so sorry please ignore this i don't mean to rush you or anything :')

wanderer, candy(does that count?), fluff!! :D

(oh oh also can i be 🪐anon/saturn anon? if not thats fine! i just thought i'd ask since i think i've been sending asks consistently enough to identify myself ^^)

notes wc 800; HII your ask wasnt eaten, i was just taking a long time writing the requests LMFAO. of course u can be saturn anon!!! welcome welcome to the blog (this ask was sent a month ago and i am very much late. idek if anon is still active here…) tbh i wrote this and just went with the flow HAHA

5K EVENT SPECIAL | EVENT MASTERLIST

You unceremoniously dump the pile of imported goods on the table, causing quite a scene in the silence of the House of Daena. They scattered about, and some even clattered onto the floor. You grinned proudly at your friends’ dumbfounded stares.

Tighnari was the first to speak. “I’m assuming you had fun on your vacation in Inazuma?”

“Do you even have money left?” Alhaitham asked, quite incredulously. The most emotion you’ve seen from this month.

It took you a moment to respond, and you felt momentarily distracted by the strange sensation of being watched. “Well, no,” you said eventually. “But I bought all this for you guys! Be more grateful, will you?”

Kaveh clapped his hands. “This is incredible! I haven’t gotten the chance to try any of these local delicacies from Inazuma!”

You nodded approvingly. See? Was that so hard? “Yes, I know. Aren’t I such a good friend? You’re welcome, all of you.”

Belatedly, they mutter their thanks.

You went on a tangent, reciting the food sales pitch you memorized from the sellers, feeling remarkably intelligent. They didn’t have to know that, half the time, you were the personification of a lost tourist/foreigner/idiot in Inazuma and just decided to play it safe and keep most of the souvenirs as food.

They segregated their wanted share and thanked you again. They left you some of the candy, which you had no qualms about eating for yourself. As you all fell into the lull of a conversation, the feeling worsened, and you’ve had enough.

You turned to your friends. “He’s been staring at me for about 30 minutes now…”

They each cast their discreet glances.

“Are you scared?” Kaveh asked worriedly.

“Look at that look in his eye!” you said. “I’ve seen that same look in Rishboland Tigers!”

“He’s not going to eat you,” Tighnari sighed. Well, he wouldn’t know that. Only Alhaitham has met Hat Guy, and he seemed to be amused instead.

“Violence is not permitted in the Akademiya grounds,” Cyno said seriously.

“Maybe it’s not you he’s looking at…?” Tighnari tried.

“Cyno, switch with me,” you ordered.

Wordlessly, he obeyed. The group watched in disbelief as Hat Guy’s gaze simply moved to where you sat next. He wasn’t even trying to hide it.

“Maybe he’s interested because it’s a candy imported from Inazuma,” Cyno supplied thoughtfully.

“That’s a good point. I’m surprised you didn’t make a p—”

“Don’t you mean—” Cyno held up the box that displayed the Inazuman Electro symbol on the front, “shocked?”

You hung your head. You spoke too soon. “OK.”

Tighnari watched your face for a long moment, but it didn’t feel as charged as the guy sitting a few tables away. “You don’t seem to hate the attention,” he concluded at the sight your giddy smile.

“No, I really don’t,” you admitted sheepishly. “He’s smart, and he’s handsome. Of course I’m interested. I just wish he would be a bit more normal about his flirting—if he’s even flirting. Should I give him some?”

You didn’t wait for an answer as your chair scraped backward and you faced Hat Guy directly.

“Make sure it’s just the candy you’re giving!” Kaveh called out.

“I see that Sparks are flying,” Cyno said.

Walking over while you held his gaze was excessively awkward, but it was worthwhile seeing Hat Guy’s little smirk grow like he was pleased you were taking his challenge. It was a bit of a problem, however, that he was undeniably attractive. If he was cute from afar, he was drop-dead gorgeous up close.

“Y/N,” you said, in place of a greeting.

“They call me Hat Guy,” he mused. “Those from Inazuma?”

“Yes.” Suddenly embarrassed that the bullshit you were spewing was picked up on by the guy who everyone was pretty sure was born in Inazuma. “Did you hear me?”

Hat Guy shrugged, plucking one candy from the pile on your hands. “You did pretty well. But I only have one criticism, and I can tell you bought most of them from the same place.”

Ah, you did do that. He tore off the plastic and popped it into his mouth, expression turning sour. “The best ones come from the locals. You should’ve asked the kids,” he advised.

Mouth dry, you said, “Yeah, I should’ve.”

Everyone told you that the mysterious new student—Hat Guy, you now learned—was prickly and slips off when someone approaches him. His birthday was apparently a very thrilling event—in the case that everyone had to hunt him down to give him his cake.

“Want a tip?” he asked, head tilted and looking entirely pretty. His tongue rolled around as he ate his—your candy.

“You seem to know best.”

“Take me with you next time.”

#606: 5K EVENT #genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact x you #genshin impact #scaramouche x reader #scaramouche x you #kunikuzushi x reader #kunikuzushi x you #wanderer x reader #wanderer x you

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shadowtriovibes · 2 years ago

Note

Hello,

Can you write some shameless pre-relationship Sebastian x mc flirting? Like pining, comparing hand sizes, teasing about height, all that cringe cute stuff! Just go off on that however you like!

hello anon!! here's a quick 1.5k pg-rated words for you because i'd just started a little drabble of MC working at j pippin's for the summer and it turned into two goofy teens in love 🥹

edit: i felt like this deserved a name so i'm calling it "the potioneer's apprentice" and i personally love a potion-loving MC characterization very much so i may return to this 'verse later on xoxo

"I happen to know that you can make a perfectly good batch of Wiggenweld yourself," you point out. Sebastian watches distractedly while you untie your hair, shaking it loose as it falls down to your shoulders. "W-well, yours is better," he insists. "Always has been, even Sharp said so." "It's even better now," you say proudly, pulling one of the bottles out of your bag to hand to him. "...You're not actually hurt, are you?" "No, just bored," he admits. "I wanted to see you."

Staring down at the order slip in your hands, you bite the inside of your cheek to keep from smiling.

Mr. Sebastian Sallow Feldcroft Hamlet

x3 Wiggenweld x1 Focus x1 Felix Felicis

“Simple enough,” Parry Pippin says cheerfully, tucking a knut into the pocket of the postal owl that had just dropped off your latest order. “I’ll put together the Liquid Luck, I know that’s a tricky one.”

Bustling over to his potions station, he adds, “I trust brewing the Wiggenweld and Focus draughts should be no problem for you?”

“Of course,” you say, quickly tying up your hair before lighting a fire beneath the cauldron at your own station.

You’ve been an apprentice at J. Pippin’s Potions for just over a month, refining your potions skills over the summer break – and helping keep an eye on things in Hogsmeade. In that time, your brewing skills have improved significantly, and Parry is more than happy to pass on some of the simpler potions to you.

Attempting to be casual, you ask, “Will this be a delivery?”

“Oh, I should think so,” Parry confirms. “Though it’s not exactly my neck of the woods.”

“Would you like me to drop it off?” you offer hopefully.

“How about this,” Parry offers. “I’ll send you down to the hamlet to drop these off, and then you can call it a day.”

“Thank you, Mister Pippin,” you say with a grin.

Your boss smiles approvingly as you carefully pour some horklump juice into your cauldron, precisely tapping the side of the bottle as he’d taught you.

“Besides,” he says cheekily. “I think this is the third time this month that young mister Sallow has ordered from my shop and requested delivery, even though Fatimah’s shop is much closer.”

You nearly spill the entire bottle.

“Any idea why a Hogwarts student on summer break would need so many potions?” Parry asks, smirking to himself as he pours some lacewing flies into his cauldron.

“W-well, I – I suppose he could be clumsy,” you mumble unconvincingly. “O-or stocking up, perhaps. We’ve got N.E.W.T. classes next term, some of these spells are quite challenging, a-and the beasts, we’ve got Grindylows to examine, you know how they bite…”

You trail off feebly, blushing a bright red. The Wiggenweld potion in your cauldron signals its completion with a puff of smoke, offering a welcome distraction.

“Aye, of course,” Parry murmurs, sounding very much like he doesn’t believe you in the slightest. “In any case, as soon as you finish that Focus potion I’ll send you on your way.”

Quickly ladling three portions of Wiggenweld into Parry's glass vials, you scrub out your cauldron and prepare the last draught, wrinkling your nose at the smell of dugbog tongue. Once it starts to smoke and bubble, you measure out a generous portion and collect the Felix Felicis from your boss, tucking the lot into your satchel.

“Please thank young Sebastian for his order, and tell him I said good day,” Parry tells you with a wink. “And to kindly stop pilfering my apprentice so often.”

“Yes, sir,” you reply sheepishly.

Outside the shop, you trek outside the boundaries of Hogsmeade to hop onto your broom and head south toward Feldcroft. It had been more than a week since you’d seen Sebastian, which felt like an eternity compared to how often you saw him during the school year.

One month into your break and you feel like a simpering wreck.

You miss him like crazy – not that you’d tell him like that, of course. He’s your closest friend, and the two of you have been through so much together in the past two years. You aren’t about to ruin it by confessing that you’re hopelessly in love with him.

—

Sebastian is not moping.

And even if he was, why shouldn’t he mope? He’s alone, it’s swelteringly hot in the hamlet and he hasn’t seen his best friend in a week.

He’s bored, and when Sebastian gets bored, he gets creative.

Really, it’s almost too easy to summon you to Feldcroft. All it took was a quick trip to see the owl post stand and another superfluous order for some potions (with a little bit of Liquid Luck thrown in on a whim), and he knew you’d arrive by the time the heat broke.

He conveniently manages to be tending to his small garden when you touch down beside the Sallow home, his sleeves rolled up past his elbows while he pats some dirt around a sprig of fluxweed.

“Sallow?” You call out teasingly. “I have an order here for Sebastian Sallow?”

“Must be a lazy bloke, ordering all those Wiggenwelds instead of making them himself,” he answers, sitting back on his heels and wiping some sweat away from his brow with the back of his wrist. “Or perhaps just daft.”

“I happen to know that you can make a perfectly good batch of Wiggenweld yourself,” you point out.

Sebastian watches distractedly while you untie your hair, shaking it loose as it falls down to your shoulders.

“W-well, yours is better,” he insists. “Always has been, even Sharp said so.”

“It’s even better now,” you say proudly, pulling one of the bottles out of your bag to hand to him. “...You’re not actually hurt, are you?”

“No, just bored,” he admits. “I wanted to see you.”

If Ominis were here, he’d likely pick up on how those words make your heart race a little faster, but mercifully, Sebastian does not.

“Here I am,” you say. “And I’m all yours for the day, Mister Pippin gave me the rest of the day off.”

“Oh, really?” he replies, brushing some stray dirt off of his trousers as he stands up. “Whatever could we get up to with an entire afternoon?”

You blink in surprise as he stands, realizing for the first time that Sebastian has gotten taller.

“What?” he asks, catching your gaze.

“You’ve grown,” you say dumbly. “I – I mean, you’re tall.”

“Am I?” he asks, a teasing smirk on his lips. “Perhaps you’re just short.”

“I am not short,” you protest, following Sebastian as he leads the way into the old Sallow home.

It feels different now, obviously. Less like a family home and more like a chaotic bachelor pad, Sebastian’s strewn-about books and haphazard notes covering up a distinct lack of coziness.

It’s only for the summer, Sebastian had told you the first time you’d seen it.

(You know he doesn’t really have anywhere else to go anymore, what with the Gaunt household becoming more toxic by the day. You wouldn’t be surprised to find Ominis squatting there as well by the time July rolls around.)

“You’re practically pocket-sized,” Sebastian teases, closing the door behind you to keep some of the midday sun out. “I think it’s why you’re so powerful – it’s concentrated, your magic.”

You scoff and shove at his shoulder, wondering to yourself when he became so broad.

It had only been a few weeks since school had let out, hadn’t it? And suddenly Sebastian was walking around in a man’s body, one you were sure wasn’t there in Charms class in May. Or maybe it was, hiding beneath his suit jacket and his robes…

You blink rapidly to clear your head.

“Um. Your potions,” you mumble, pulling the rest of the bottles out of your satchel and placing them on the front room table.

Then you can’t help but ask, “What’s the Felix Felicis for?”

“Not sure yet,” Sebastian admits. “But I’m sure it will come in handy at some point.”

You hum under your breath, picking up the delicate vial and examining it in the light.

“Hand it over,” Sebastian demands with a laugh. “I don’t like the way you’re looking at that bottle, I know what temptation looks like on your face.”

Blushing, you place the vial in his outstretched hand, letting your own hand linger a beat too long. Sebastian quickly catches your wrist, turning your hand palm-side up.

“Merlin’s beard, your hand is small,” he observes.

“Not this again,” you groan.

“I’m being serious, you hold your wand with this tiny thing?” he jokes. “Poor Ollivander had his work cut out for him.”

“Let’s see yours, then,” you insist, holding your hand up to him. “Go on.”

Sebastian presses his palm against yours and you raise your eyebrows. His hand dwarfs yours to the degree that he could wrap the tips of his fingers overtop yours if he wanted to.

“See?” he says, his voice suddenly much quieter in the empty home. “Tiny.”

“And yet I can still beat you in a duel,” you retort, trying to calm your racing heart.

Just like that, the tension in the room dissolves away and Sebastian lights up.

“A duel, hmm?” he echoes. “Is that an offer?”

“Seriously? That’s what you want to do today?” you laugh. “It’s thirty degrees outside and you want to duel?”

“We could practice on the training dummies,” he offers hopefully. “You know you want to.”

…Damn him, he’s right.

“Fine,” you relent. “But if I sweat through this chemise, it’s your head, Sallow.”

Sebastian tries very hard to not think about you in a sweat-soaked white shirt as you lead him back outside, and if he trips over the doorframe on his way out, he’s happy to let you continue to assume it’s just his clumsy streak.

#hogwarts legacy #hogwarts legacy fic #sebastian sallow #sebastian sallow x mc #sebastian sallow x reader #sebastian x mc #sebastian x reader #requests #my fic

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runningfrom2am · 9 months ago

Text

cold nights // part twenty-five

summary: you were back in the capitol, and you would be damned if you didn't try your hardest to make it worthwhile.

pairing: coriolanus snow x fem!reader

wc: 3.5k

masterlists / nav / requests

tags/warnings: tribute!reader and mentor!coriolanus, r is very sweet (too kind for this world. literally.), sunshine x grumpy trope kinda, he falls first, violence typical for the source material, depictions of mental illness, also she's is very smart (as she should), district twelve!reader.

a/n: the fluff in this one omgggg :')

my asks are also open to talk about this series! (i do have emoji anons open now too!)

send me any and all of your thoughts! here!

series masterlist // playlist

Coryo's new shoes were giving him blisters by the time he got out of the car outside the Citadel. Breaking in shoes was almost worse than dealing with the ill-fitting ones he wore before he was awarded the Plinth Prize.

Knowing what this meeting with Dr. Gaul was about didn't even calm him. He didn't like leaving you at home, although Tigris promised she wouldn't leave you alone. This meeting was about you, he was sure, though he hadn't been told specifically. Considering it is about you, he thought you should have at least been extended an invite.

Taking the spiral staircase down toward Dr. Gaul's lab, his shoulder begins to ache. The last time he was here, he was digging his fingers into his still-fresh stitches to tear them apart. He did it for you, but he still almost shudders at the aching reminder making itself present under his skin.

"I'm here to speak with Dr. Gaul, she requested my presence." He tells the staff at the desk, adjusting the front of his jacket. If he was going to plead a case for you, he had to look presentable. Put together. There should be no evidence that the time he spent in District Twelve rubbed off on him, that would just make him plain unreliable.

He feels the familiar buzz of the door to the woman's lab unlocking and he quickly thanks them, making his way in. Deep breaths. Remain calm, indifferent.

"Mister Snow." The familiar false cheeriness in Dr. Gaul's voice greets him from somewhere behind the shelves housing a variety of tank-bound experiments she had done. "I've been expecting you, come in."

Wordlessly he obeys, following her voice around a corner. "Dr. Gaul, it's good to see you."

She smiles, and even though he knows it's born from the same formality as his very own, he's almost tempted to feel welcomed. "How was your trip to Twelve?" She asks, returning her attention to the birds in the cages that lined the wall almost up to the high ceiling.

"It was good." He nods. "I learned a lot."

"I'm sure you did." She chuckles, and as he walks closer and gets a better look at the birds, he recognizes them.

Jabberjays.

You're walking through the trees in front of him, almost reaching the meadow. Coryo watches your dress as it flows with your every step, brushing against the back of your thighs and the plants that slide smoothly over the scars that adorned your calf.

It had become a daily routine that he was grateful for since the first day you brought him out to the same meadow. This is how he had pictured you from that very first day. It was exactly what he had come here for. You had made all that lost time worth it within a week.

He's pulled from the beautiful distraction that is you when you come to an abrupt stop, and he almost bumps into your back. 'What's wrong?' He wants to ask, but he doesn't even get the chance to form the words before you're quickly turning and holding a finger to your lips, signaling for him to be quiet.

He listens, but only because you're smiling. He stares at you as you look up and around into the tree line.

Your eyes light up as they find whatever they are searching for, and then you shift your gaze to his. "Watch this." You whisper, hardly audible.

What he doesn't anticipate following your emphasis on staying silent, is for you to raise your hands around your mouth and begin to shout.

"See how she leans her cheek upon her hand. Oh, that I were a glove upon that hand that I might touch that cheek!" You call out. A small smile pulls at his lips as he sees your eyes trained upwards once again, taking a small step back from him.

And then, in a sound that almost makes him jump, he hears your voice again. And again, and again, but it's not coming from your lips. He looks up.

"They're jabberjays." You tell him, smiling wide. "I know you don't like birds, but maybe these could change your mind."

Your voice coming from multiple places at once almost makes his head spin. "I'm not sure about that." He says, but his smile sticks.

"They're my favourite. I like to read to them, and they like to read back to me." You explain, turning to continue on your walk.

"My Juliet breathed such life with kisses on my lips," Coryo shouts, smile growing as you turn back around to face him again. Your eyes are crinkled with the smile you wouldn't dare to resist, building on a laugh at the shock of his sudden volume. "That I was revived and became an emperor!" With the final word his arms are raised, as if he's shouting from a rooftop- as if the world was listening and he truly was so powerful as the title implied. With you in front of him, that's just how he felt.

You laugh as his words echo back around you, pressing a hand to your chest and you shake your head. "Coryo-"

Then he's grabbing you around the waist, holding onto you tight as he spins you around. You scream, clinging onto him as your bag slides off your shoulder.

He lets your feet hit the ground as he stops, not yet ready to let you go as you stumble back. You're laughing in his ear, and he's sure he's never heard such a pleasant sound in his life.

You pull away slightly and he lets you, arms still draped over his shoulders. "That wasn't quite right." You giggle.

"What do you mean?" He asks teasingly. "That was just me. I just said that for the first time ever, I don't know what you could possibly be talking about."

"Oh, it sounded a little familiar, is all." You laugh, shaking your head. "But of course, I forgot that you are quite the poet, Coriolanus Snow."

"You underestimate me? I'm wounded." He laughs, mocking offense.

"My dearest apologies, sweet Romeo. That is but my own shortcomings projected onto you." The smile on your face and the sun beaming against your skin could have him convinced he'd died and gone to heaven.

"Shortcomings? My Juliet, that is quite impossible." He shakes his head slightly, smiling at the nickname. "You're perfect, in every way."

You kissed him again, and after a minute when he let you pull back, he was reborn as the emperor of those woods.

"Do you recognize these birds?" Dr. Gaul asks, snapping him away from the warm memory.

"I do." He confirms. "Jabberjays, yes?"

"Yes. They were a Capitol experiment during the war, they would listen to rebel discussions and repeat them back to us. The catalysts for many executions." She explains as he reads over the inscriptions on the front of the cages. "I am having them collected and sent back to see if we can repurpose them into something more useful."

Coryo doesn't say anything, really just waiting for her to get to the point. There was no use dancing around what he was here for, and he especially didn't want to talk about your favourite birds being removed from the Districts. How many of the birds in these very cages have recreated your beautiful voice reciting to them the story of Romeo and Juliet? If you were to go home, would there even be any left for you to read to?

"Anyway," Dr. Gaul claps her gloved hands together, walking away toward a desk and gesturing for him to follow. "I have a few questions for you. There are important things for us to discuss."

"What is this about?" He asks, knowing damn well why he was here.

"I was asked to review a late application for the university, which normally, would not be my responsibility." She states, eyeing him carefully. "I suspect you know why they would ask me to give them approval."

He nods. Dr. Gaul had been teaching at the university for years, he never knew how she had the time.

"Having a Victor apply for admission to the Capitols University was something I never thought I would see." She continues. "But, here we are. I admit, in any normal circumstance, she would be accepted immediately. The application was exceptional."

"She is extremely smart, yes."

"That is part of the problem."

"What problem?" He argues, but she raises a hand to stop him.

"Mister Snow, I thought you would better understand why that is not acceptable. If we allow a District girl to attend our university, that sets the precedent that she is equal to us. That if she can get out of District Twelve, so can they, and when we turn them down, there will be uprisings. I have discussed these concerns with the President, and he agrees."

Coryo resists the urge to roll his eyes. "What is the difference between her and Sejanus Plinth, then? He still tells people he's District. At least she wants to be here."

"Sejanus Plinth is Capitol, whether he likes it or not. I assure you, any friends he had in District Two are no longer fond of him."

"Then this is her chance to become one of us." Coriolanus states, reminding himself again to remain indifferent. "If a Victor of the games can attend the university, winning it will become more desirable. Tributes will actually try, they'll do the mentor's jobs for us if they think that being liked will buy them a win. District kids may very well line up around the block for the opportunity to win their families a better life."

"You're missing the point, Mister Snow." Dr. Gaul says, but he can see she is considering his statement. "We cannot hand these opportunities out to every Victor the games will ever have."

"Then don't." He replies simply. "Let them apply if they want, but they'll have nowhere to live, they won't be able to afford tuition, and none of them will ever be as smart as she is anyways. They won't be accepted. And if they are, we let them try."

She doesn't reply, a small smile growing on her lips.

"Besides, the Capitol isn't handing this to her. The only reason she can afford any of it is me. We can be picky about which, if any of them, we want on our side, but if we give her a chance, convince the Districts and her that she is now one of us, think of what she could do for the games. She understands them almost as well as you, and that could give us an advantage, having the willing perspective of the other side." He knew you would never go for this- of course he did. You couldn't even talk about the games without going pale and struggling to breathe. It ruined you- but she doesn't need to know that. He just needs her to let you stay.

"You make a compelling case for her." Dr. Gaul admits, pulling her gloves off and dropping them onto the desk that stands between them. "But why?"

This was a question he wasn't fully expecting, and luckily he was given more time to come up with an excuse when she spoke again.

"I also noted that on her application it says that she is living with you, yes?"

"Yes."

"Forgive my forwardness, but what is the extent of your relationship to your tribute?"

He sucks in a breath as her heterochromatic eyes stare into him. He wouldn't be shocked if he found out tomorrow that she could read his mind. "We are... friends. I suppose."

"Friends." She hums, eyebrow raised at him. "Then you must be a good friend to have, Coriolanus. Not a lot of friends would fund another's entire life on the Corso."

"Yes, well, like I said, I believe her education could benefit the games."

Dr. Gaul sighs, and he truly cannot tell if she believes him or not. "You may go. Her acceptance letter will be delivered tomorrow."

He nods, turning on his heel to leave. "But, Mister Snow," She stops him and he looks at her over her shoulder. "Don't forget who she really is."

A statement like that didn't dignify a response, so he just continued on. When he walks out of the Citadel to his waiting car, he lets himself smile. He couldn't wait for you to find out.

You were able to convince Tigris to let you out with Sejanus while Coryo was gone. You hadn't seen him since you left the train station, and you just had so much you wanted to talk to him about.

When he rang the doorbell, you were already waiting by the door. You look up at the sound of the buzzer, and Tigris smiles. "That's him." She tells you, walking over to the box on the wall. "If you want to answer the door, you press this button..." She presses it, and you hear static.

"Hi Sejanus, she'll be down in a minute." She says, and you smile when his voice returns.

"Okay, thanks Tigris."

She lets go of the button, smiling at you. "Okay, and if we wanted to unlock the door to let someone up, you press this other button." She points it out.

"Okay. I'll remember that." You promise.

"Oh! And when you come back, there's a panel of buttons outside the door, just press the one next to our name and we'll let you in."

"Thank you! See you in a bit!" You give her a quick wave before leaving.

The elevator was still new to you, but you were getting used to it quickly. This was the first time you had taken it alone, though, and the freedom was honestly exciting.

The elevator dings when you reach the first floor, and as the doors slide open smoothly you step out, the glass doors already in sight where Sejanus was waiting.

You wave excitedly and he smiles at you, giving you a brief wave back before you push the door open. "Hi!"

"Y/N, how are you?" He grins, wrapping his arms around you.

"I'm well." You sigh, arms around his neck. "How are you doing? I've missed you!"

"Fine." He answers, pulling away and guiding you down the stairs toward the black car waiting on the street. You pull up the scarf around your neck to cover the lower half of your face as you walk into view of the street, away from the cover of the building's walls. "To be honest, I am unsure if I was more disappointed or pleased that I didn't hear from you. I took it that you were still settling in, but I hope it's going well."

"It's certainly... going. A lot of things to get used to." You answer and he opens the car door for you, both of you sliding into the back seat. The Snow's had a car and a driver, but it seemed that Coryo enjoyed walking while you were still adjusting. He said it would help you learn better where you were going, he was likely right. "For example, I learned what an 'elevator' is."

Your friend laughs as the car begins to move. "I can imagine that would be confusing."

"Yes!" You giggle. "We got into this tiny room and they just stood there- I was absolutely baffled. They tried not to laugh at me too much, though."

"Now, have you heard of an escalator?" He asks, trying to hold back his laughter as you eye him suspiciously.

"No... Tell me more."

"You're lying!" You laugh as he opens the car door for you once more, stepping out again in an area you hadn't been in before. "Sejanus, I do not believe you. Why on earth would they be stair-shaped then?"

"Because they're too steep for it to just be a travelator, you'd fall."

"A travelator? No." You shake your head. "There is no way that there are three different ways to move from one place to another without just walking, that all have similarly abysmal names. That is ridiculous."

"This whole place is ridiculous." He agrees as you walk up onto the porch of what you assume is his family home. There are even trees in the yard, since it lays on what must be near the edge of the city.

"Can I ask you something?"

He hums as he unlocks the door. "Why do you not live in The Corso?" You ask. "Coryo told me that all the most powerful families live there, and he also said that your family is certainly among them."

"Uhhh..." He mumbles, looking around to make sure no one is too close to hear the somewhat invasive question as he shuts the door behind you. "My Ma liked the property. She liked a home rather than a stuffy penthouse- no offense."

"It wouldn't be my choice, either." You admit. "Alas, it's where I find myself. Not to say that their home is not lovely, I am happy there. It's just... it's nothing like home."

Sejanus nods, offering you a weak smile.

"I... I'm really glad you came back with us." You tell him quietly. "I don't know what I would have done here without you."

He clears his throat, giving a slight shake of his head. "My Ma made lunch, she's really excited for you to be here. Are you okay if we eat with her?"

"Of course, yes." You smile, following him deeper into the halls of a house that you could only describe as a castle.

"So, tell us everything, dear. How has your first week or so been?" His Ma asks, sitting across the table from you.

"It's been good." You smile. "I do have a question, though, and I trust that you will be honest with me." You say, glancing over at Sejanus with a small smile.

"Oh? What is it?" She asks.

"I just learned what an elevator is, and Sejanus told me about... what did you say they were called?"

"Escalators."

"Yes, and the other one?"

"A travelator?"

"Yes." You giggle, looking at his Ma again. "Is that real, or is he trying to pull the wool over my eyes?"

She laughs, putting down her glass. "Yes. They are real, but very rare. I highly doubt you should encounter either. And no one calls them travelators, so I do believe Sej was just trying to overwhelm you."

"Oh! Okay, well, thank you." You laugh, shaking your head. "I don't know what to believe, everything here is so... excessive. If that's the correct word."

"It absolutely is." Ma agrees. "It takes some getting used to. Some days I still get confused or overwhelmed, but it's all for the better I believe."

Sejanus tenses up, and you can see it out of the corner of your eye. "I think this will be better for my family, too. Though, I wish I could have brought them with me. Like you."

"That reminds me!" She says, leaning forward. You're glad- the topic of home can get heavy extremely quickly. Even you know that's not a suitable lunch conversation. "Sej told me you brought your cat, how is it doing?"

When Coryo gets back home, he's just excited to see you. He still has to keep quiet about what he actually went out for, but it will be worth it tomorrow when you see that you got accepted. You don't have to know that it's because he talked them into taking you- he knew you deserved it anyway.

"Tigris?" He calls out as he opens the door, already rethinking the details of the story he would give you.

"In here!" His cousin calls back from her room, and he follows her voice, peeking into the sitting room and then yours on his way there.

"How did it go?" She asks, and he frowns when he sees you weren't in there with her either.

"Where's Y/N?"

"She went out." Tigris smiles. "With Sejanus."

He scrunches up his nose. "Sejanus? He called?"

"Oh, no. She asked if she could call him so I showed her how to use the phone." She smiles. You hadn't had any use for it yet, considering that in correspondence from your family they said they haven't been able to get it installed just yet. He knew how anxiously you were waiting to be able to hear their voices again. "Then they got to talking and he invited her over for lunch, so I think she is just at their house."

"Oh. Okay."

"You look upset." She notes, standing up from her desk where she was putting together the final stitches on a new dress. "Is something wrong?"

"I didn't... I would have liked to know if she planned on going out. It's been hard enough for me to get her out of her room." He explains.

"At least she's getting out, isn't she? This is good for her. She needs to make other friends."

"Sejanus isn't 'other friends'. She was already friends with him."

"All the more reason for her to see him, then." She crosses her arms, dropping her head to the side. "This isn't like you."

"What isn't?"

"Being jealous."

"I'm not I just-" He sighs, lifting his hands up as he stops himself. "It doesn't matter. I talked Dr. Gaul into accepting her. The letter will be here tomorrow."

Tigris decides to drop the topic, the smile returning to her face. "Really?" She grins, hands coming up to her mouth. "Oh, Coryo that's wonderful!"

He smiles, the tension in his shoulders melting away as he nods. "But you can't tell her I spoke with them, okay? She won't like that."

"Yes, yes I won't tell her." She agrees, smiling as she hugs him. "Oh, she's going to be so happy. And I'm so proud of you for helping her. She deserves it."

"Yeah, she really does."

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okay suddenly tumblr isn't letting me tag more people than this so i just made some cuts unfortunately :') i just left the max amount of people i could whose users i recognized and see in my notifs all the time :) if you're not on here and you should be i'm so sorry!

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