#drunk sebastian stan

[lucidlivi]

Chosen For Pleasure (II)

Series Masterlist/Warnings

I barely remember anything he said after him asking me to lunch. I just remember he grabbed my phone putting in his number.

Holy Fuck. I had Jensen Ackles number.

I had to pinch myself to make sure I wasn't still curled up on our rundown sofa in our apartment.

"call me when you're on lunch break, see you soon Ms. (L/N)."

That brings us to now.

I'm standing in front of the mirror in the bathroom of the cafe down the block, checking my reflection one last time. It's not everyday a super hot billionaire asks you on a lunch date. I wiped off some excess lip gloss before walking out to meet him.

“I ordered you some coffee, I hope that’s okay?” He asks smiling.

I shake my head yes before sitting down in front of him nervously fidgeting.

What do I do with my hands? Why won't my knee stop bouncing?

He must've noticed, he shot a hand out and put it on my knee to keep it from bouncing.

"everything okay Ms. (L/N) you seem nervous?" He observes.

"I find you rather intimidating." I admit truthfully.

Jensen was quiet for a moment before leaning in close and whispering in my ear.

"you probably should."

I couldn't stop the chills that spread down my spine and the heat that flushed my face.

Jensen knew the effect he had on women, I think part of him gets off on it. I didn’t want to give him the satisfaction of making me squirm. I was still nervous sure but slowly staring to loosen up a bit.

"so tell me about you." He says, sipping from his coffee cup.

"there's not much to know about me, I've always been passionate about photography since I was a little girl, I uh met Stella when we were freshman in college and we've been roommates ever since. I eventually want to travel the world and photograph for vogue magazine." I said sipping my own coffee.

"what about your family?" He asked.

"my family? uh okay my dad died when I was nine and my mom never quite got over it." I murmured.

"what about yours?" I added.

"sorry sore subject." He said simply.

I didn't push, I didn't always like talking about my family either.

"okay it's my turn to ask you another question. where did you find my sd card, and how did you find out where I worked?" I asked swirling my finger around the rim of my coffee cup.

"As I was leaving I saw it laying on the ground. I asked the security guard in charge of the media, wasn't hard to find the location once I knew the name of the magazine." He simply answered.

I nodded slowly, it seemed like he was telling the truth but also like he was holding something back.

"and Stella's questions? ya know for someone who claims to not have a heart that was rather nice of you to fill out her entire questionnaire." I smirked looking up at him.

I didn’t know where this sudden burst of confidence came from, but I can tell from the look on Jensen’s face that now he was the one who was nervous.

"I don't, it's just if people are going to write things about me in a magazine, I'd rather it be my words than theirs." He answered still keeping with his tough guy facade.

"I don't know I think you may just be romantic under all that toughness." I joked.

I could see his eyes furrow a bit.

"are you Ms. (L/N)?"

"am I what?"

"a romantic?" He clarified.

"I'm a photographer Jensen, I see the beauty in everything so I kind of have to be." I said biting my lip.

I could see his whole demeanor change.

"(y/n), I don't think I can do this." He said suddenly pushing his chair out and getting up.

I was completely confused, he asked me to lunch? Was it something I said.

"I'll walk you out." Jensen said grabbing my elbow and helping me up.

"hang on, did I say something wrong?" I asked.

He didn't answer, just continued to pull me out the door. He started to pull me down the sidewalk, in front of the cafe.

"Jensen wait." I growled, prying his hand off my elbow.

"Look (y/n), I don't do romance or relationships, okay, I do pleasure, nothing else. I'm sorry if you thought I was somebody else but I'm not. I'm not the man for you." He said quickly.

I stepped back from him. What did that even mean? He's a completely different person now than he was earlier. What changed?

"but just.." I started but all of a sudden a guy riding a bike flew past me.

Jensen grabbed my elbow pulling me in to his hard chest.

"you really need to be more careful." He grumbled as if it were my fault.

I couldn't believe him. Where was all this coming from? He was acting like a total asshole.

"Goodbye Jensen." I said ripping my arm from his grip.

I walked the couple blocks back to our office, not expecting him to follow. What the hell was his problem?

I do pleasure, nothing else.

What was that even supposed to mean? Like sex? He only wanted sex? A fuck buddy? I threw open the door huffing into the office. Stella ran over with a concerned look. I was about to open my mouth and tell her what happened when Gray came running over to us.

"there they are, my two favorite girls!" He said wrapping an arm around each of our shoulders.

"uh who are you and what have you done with our boss?" Stella asked giving him a raised brow look.

"This months magazine has only been out for four hours and is already flying off the shelves due to your article on Mr. Ackles." Gray said.

Ugh, hearing his name made me even more cranky. I can't believe I was embarrassed like that!

"I'm so proud and because of you wonderful ladies, I'm giving everyone the rest of the day off!" Gray added ruffling our hair before letting go and walking away.

"okay I hope he never does that again." Stella said fixing her hair.

I didn't say anything just stood looking at my shoes. My mind racing with everything that just happened.

"sooo, how did lunch go, I didn't expect you to be back this early?" Stella questioned.

I could feel the rage building.

"ugh what a pretentious asshole!” I yelled, causing others in the office to look at me strangely.

"that bad?" Stella seemed shocked.

"let's just go home please." I sighed grabbing my stuff.

I should've known it was too good to be true. I just wanted to forget any of this ever happened. I felt stupid, stupid and embarrassed. Stella was quiet as we got in to the car.

"Let's go out tonight." She said looking at me.

She can't be serious.

"Stell, I'm not exactly in the going out mood."

She frowned at me. Yep she was serious.

"exactly which is the precise reason of why you should, come on (y/n/n) so what Jensen turned out to be a dick like everyone says, I mean it would be more worrisome if he was that good looking and had nothing wrong with him. " She rambled.

"Stell?”

“Yeah?”

“YOUR NOT HELPING." I yelled making her roll her eyes.

"Okay then let's go out and celebrate Gray finally getting off our asses! (y/n) we made this months magazine, us! We deserve to celebrate that!" She pushed.

I sighed looking at my giddy best friend.

"you're not going to take no for an answer are you?" I grumbled in defeat.

If Stella was one thing, it was incredibly persistent and sometimes like now for example, annoying.

"nope, and that's why you love me, so what do you say roomie?"

"ugh fine, but just for a little bit, and I’m not drinking." I agreed turning up the music as she drove home.

****************************************************

It was late in the evening now, Stella and I were getting ready to go to the club. I was in the bathroom fixing my hair. I really didn't feel like going out, but I knew it would make Stella happy.

“Stell, do you think this shirt is too revealing?” I asked looking at the red strapless top I wore.

“if anything it’s not revealing enough.” She joked coming in to stand beside me.

I was about to say something snarky back to her when someone rang our doorbell.

“I’ll get it, you finish getting dolled up!” Stella squealed heading for the door.

I heard her open the door, but no one talking.

“Stell who is it?” I asked coming out of the bathroom.

“not a who, a what. It’s a package for you. To Ms. (L/N).” Stella read.

nobody calls me Ms. (L/N). nobody but him. I look at the back of the card.

(y/n),

I’m really sorry for how things ended, please accept this as my token of apology.

-Jensen

How did he even know where we live!? I rolled my eyes hesitantly unwrapping the package.

“holy fuck Stell.”

“what?”

I pulled out the vintage polariod camera, one I could only dream of owning one day.

“this is super vintage, one of these costs easily thousands of dollars.” I said showing her the camera.

so he thinks he can buy my forgiveness and I’ll just forget about him being an ass… yeah not going to happen.

“I have to send this back Stella.” I said carefully setting down the old camera afraid of breaking it.

“not right now you don’t, right now you have to put on this lipgloss and go dance your cute ass off with your best friend, come on (y/n/n), forget Jensen and let’s live a little!” She pouted.

Gosh sometimes she could be such a child. I stood there silently giving her a defeated look. She uncapped the lipgloss and started swiping some on my plump lips, taking my silence as a go ahead.

“you’re quite annoying sometimes I hope you know that.” I joked checking my reflection in the mirror one last time.

“I know, it’s one of my many shining qualities.” She said pulling me towards the door to our awaiting Uber.

I sighed looking at the camera one last time before we shut the door.

I was so confused. Why apologize? Did he actually feel bad?

Or did he think I was going to run to the media and gossip about him? Was he trying to buy my silence?

Maybe Stell was right, I mean what harm could possibly come from forgetting, even if just for tonight. I impressed Gray, something I’ve been trying to do for months now. I deserved to celebrate that!

“okay miss moody, I’m going to need you to stop overthinking there and relax.” Stella said digging an elbow into my side.

I rolled my eyes at her.

“I’m thinking you were right, let’s have fun.”

“that’s my girl!” Stella cheered.

I could see the fluorescent lighting as we pulled up to the club. The music was so loud I could feel it pulsating through my skin as we entered, finding a table to set our stuff down at.

“yum yum look at all this eye candy.” Stella said licking her lips.

“mhm not bad.” I shrugged looking at the sweaty bodies drinking and dancing all around us.

A waiter comes in to our viewpoint carrying a tray with two shots on it. I looked at Stella confused as we’d only just arrived, not having time to order anything yet.

“ladies, compliments of that gentleman over there.” the waiter says pointing to a handsome gentleman.

He wasn’t as handsome as Jensen but definitely not bad. We gave him a small smile to which he returned.

“see not even five minutes here and you’re already getting attention.” Stella said grabbing the shot and throwing it back.

“please, how do you know he didn’t buy them for you?” I scoffed.

Stella was one of those girls that looked flawless without even trying. She garnered men’s attention wherever we went. I loved that for her.

“I’m not the one he’s giving the fuck me eyes to.” She smirked.

I nervously turned my head around to look at the handsome guy. He stood puffing a cigarette while making eye contact with me.

I turned back around quickly a brush spread to my cheeks.

“told you so.” she smirked.

I quickly picked up the shot, I know I said I wasn’t drinking but at this point I needed the liquid courage to help me through the night. I threw it back feeling the familiar burn in the back of my throat. Hmm a Scotch guy.

“oh god (y/n/n) he’s coming this way.” Stella said turning me around.

Sure enough the handsome stranger was walking towards me, a smirk playing on his lips. He gets closer muttering a quick hi. He leans in so I can hear him over the booming electronic dance song that plays through the speakers.

“can I just say you’re the prettiest girl that’s walked through this door tonight?” He said, his voice husky.

Stella was usually the one getting the male attention so I had no idea what to do now that it was focused on me.

“thanks, and thanks for the shots.” I quietly said in his ear.

“of course, want a drink gorgeous?” He asked.

I knew I probably shouldn’t be drinking so much especially drinks from a stranger, but part of me didn’t care.

I mean I was celebrating after all.

I look towards Stella however she was now grinding on a stranger, a full mixed drink now in her hand. I sighed. I wanted to forget. So I was going to forget.

“how about some more shots?” I whispered seductively.

I didn’t know where this was coming from, but it felt kinda good.

“I like how you think.. uh” he said realizing he didn’t get my name.

“(y/n).” I filled in for him.

“(y/n), I like that. I’m Sebastian.”

Sebastian walked over to the bar ordering us more shots. I glanced at Stella making sure she was okay. She caught my eyes mouthing a you go girl. Sebastian came back with four shots.

Whiskey.

I couldn’t help but think of Jensen, he smelled like Whiskey.

Fuck I'm supposed to be forgetting.

I quickly threw back the shots. I grabbed Sebastian’s hand pulling him over to where Stella was grinding on her guy. Our bodies moved in sync as his hands started to explore. It had been awhile since a man touched me in more than a friendly manner so the way his hands roamed around my hips and up my sides made the heat flush to my cheeks.

Or maybe that was the alcohol talking.

Whatever it was I liked it. It continues on this way, me throwing back shots while Sebastian's body clashed with mine.

“you’re so fucking hot, what I wouldn’t do to take you home.” He spoke biting his lip.

I was definitely feeling the effects of the alcohol at this point. My head was getting a little fuzzy, my better judgement going out the window.

“I have to pee.” I said pulling Sebastian’s hands off my ass and starting to make my way to the bathroom.

I got to the back of the club to the bathrooms but of course there was a huge line for the women’s, there always was. I grabbed my phone out of my pocket bringing it to life. I had a missed call from my mom. I had to remember to call her back when I was sober.

But then his name caught my attention.

Jensen.

I scrolled over his contact information, meaning to delete his number.

I’m forgetting him.

I bit my lip as I hovered over the delete button. I hesitated though.

You know what, before I deleted him, I was going to give him a piece of my mind, knowing without the alcohol in my system I wouldn’t have this much courage again. I clicked the call button bringing it to my ear. It rang a couple times before his voice filled the speakers.

“(y/n)? What’s wrong? I hear music where are you?” He asked concerned.

“Mr. Ackles I just have to tell you that you can keep your stupid camera, I don’t want it.” I slurred trying to sound tough.

“God (y/n) have you been drinking, you sound drunk? Where are you?” He growled.

“uh yeah I’ve been drinking Mr. Grumpy Pants, and I'm dancing with a hot guy. And for your information he told me that I was the prettiest girl here tonight.” I laughed feeling the encouragement from the alcohol.

“(y/n) guys say things like that in hopes to get in your pants.” Jensen grumbled.

I could almost feel him rolling his eyes as he said that.

“well I might just let him cause he actually wants me.”

I could hear Jensen growl on the other end. I was really getting under his skin, which is exactly what I wanted.

“(y/n) tell me where you are right now.”

I could hear him breathing deeply, like he was trying to prevent himself from losing his cool.

“sorry no can do, I gotta go though it’s almost my turn to pee.”

“(y/n) I swear to god…”

I heard him start before I clicked end call. I felt satisfied with myself.

“I told him.” I said to a girl standing next to me.

She gave me an awkward smile that indicated she had no clue what I was talking about. I felt my phone vibrate in my hand. Jensen’s name flashing over the caller idea. I quickly answered bringing it to my ear.

“look man..” I started but he quickly cut me off.

“stay where you are, I’m coming to get you.” Jensen ordered.

“wait what? Jensen you can’t be serious? Jensen?” I spoke but I was met with only dial tone.

I tried to dial him again but it went straight to voicemail. I tried again with the same results.

He couldn't actually be coming here. Could he? How did he know where I was?

Oh god, I felt like I was going to be sick. I left my spot in line making my way outside the club. I needed some fresh air.

It was now after midnight and the air had grown colder. I rubbed my hands up and down my bare arms trying to get warmed up.

Sebastian came out of the club now standing in front of me.

"there you are, I thought you disappeared on me." He said wrapping his arms around my shoulders.

"yeah sorry I'm just not feeling the greatest, needed some air." I slurred.

"well how about we go back to my place and I make you feel better?" Sebastian purred, rubbing his hands down my arms and sides.

I was never really going to go home with him, I'm not that reckless. Now that I know Jensen is potentially coming, I wanted to get away from Sebastian as quick as possible.

"I don't think that's a good idea." I said firmly without slur, pulling away from him slightly.

"oh come on baby, I promise to take care of you." He pressed, pulling me back in so I was trapped between his chest and his arms wrapping around my lower back.

"no, no I'm okay." I said trying to push him away.

"come on.."

"she said NO."

It all happened in a blur.

Jensen showed up grabbing Sebastian's shoulder throwing him off of me. Sebastian clattered to the ground with a thud. Jensen stood in front of me, blocking me from Sebastian. I could see his back muscles clenching as he huffed in anger.

"what the hell is your problem bro?" Sebastian seethed.

"my problem bro is you trying to take advantage of someone who can't even stand up straight." Jensen yelled causing other patrons to look our way.

I scoffed.

"uh for your information I can stand up perfectly fine."

Of course as I said that, I stumbled forward a bit, right into Jensen. He wrapped a protective arm around my waist, holding me still in his side.

Sebastian looked at him up and down, as if he was sizing him up.

"whatever, no piece of ass is worth this much hassle." Sebastian said standing up and brushing the dirt off his clothes.

"I'll have you know my ass is really nice sir." I defended, but that was just the alcohol talking.

Jensen put a hand over my mouth quickly.

"(y/n) stop talking, and let's go." Jensen growled giving me a warning scowl before starting to lead me away.

I probably should stop talking.

"It wasn't like the bitch was going to put out anyways." Sebastian called after us.

Jensen stopped us in our tracks. I could hear his breathing start to pick up again. Jensen unwrapped his arm from my waist before turning around and launching a punch right to the side of Sebastians face. Sebastian fell down hard, not expecting Jensen to strike him. Jensen leaned down and whispered something I couldn't make out. It was all too much, the alcohol now effecting my stomach.

"I think I'm.." I started but wasn't able to finish as I emptied my stomach right there on the sidewalk.

In this case most men would jump back in disgust, but not Jensen. He ran behind me grabbing my long hair, holding it back so I wouldn't get messy. I hurled again, feeling like absolute shit.

"ugh please don't look at me." I told him before puking again.

He didn't say anything, just rubbed my back with one hand and held my hair with the other, once I thought I was done, I slowly stood up leaning in to him. I had no energy to hold myself up at this point.

"come on, lets get you out of here." He said into my ear.

"but wait, Stell, I can't just leave her." I groaned in pain, my throat raw from my puking episodes.

"I already got her in a cab back to your place." He spoke pulling me towards a car.

He gently put me in the back seat before climbing in beside me.

"Lay your head in my lap and relax." He said running his hand through my hair.

I slumped over in his lap, letting the effects of the night wash over me. I felt so weak, my muscles ached. I sighed relaxing in to his hand. My eyes slipping closed, my mind slipping into darkness.

***************************************************

The blinding light from the sun, woke me out of my deep sleep. I clutched the duvet closer to my body, slowly fluttering my eyelashes open. I groaned as I tried to move, everything hurt.

Oh god, I'm never drinking again.

I looked down, not immediately recognizing the bed I was in. The sheets and comforter just felt expensive. I sat up trying to get a view of my surroundings. I was definitely in a hotel room, but not just any hotel room.

Jensen's luxury suite.

I looked down at my body, I was shocked to find out my pants were discarded, and I was wearing a large Metallica shirt. My cheeks flushed red. I didn't remember getting undressed last night. Jensen must've undressed me. I felt so embarrassed.

The bathroom door opening startled me. Jensen came out, a pair of black sweatpants snug on his hips. He was shirtless, and water droplets, dripped from the end of his hair, down his toned chest. I couldn't help the way my eyes raked up and down his body. I bit my lip staring at the gorgeous man stood before me.

"how are you feeling?" He asked, pulling out some ibuprofen, and a glass of water.

"like, I've been hit by truck, but nothing that I don't deserve." I said gratefully taking the pain medication and water.

Jensen watched me intently as I swallowed both the pills he gave me.

"uh did you uh undress me?" I asked addressing the elephant in the room.

"I had to, you threw up all over yourself and me." He said.

I felt the heat go all throughout my body in embarrassment.

"I'm sorry you had to deal with that." I piped up.

"It could've been a lot worse, what were you thinking getting drunk like that." He growled crossing his arms.

Wait was he seriously mad at me? He's the one that told me he didn't want to do this.

"you can't seriously be mad at me for going out." I scoffed.

Who does he think he is?

"well I am mad (y/n), I'm palm-twitchingly mad. I'm all for drinking and having a good time but you put yourself at serious risk last night, how could you be so stupid?" He yelled.

"okay that is so not fair." I yelled back.

"you're lucky I was there, and your lucky all I did was throw a punch." Jensen seethed breathing deeply in anger.

I was about to make a rude comment back, but I realized he was right, I was lucky he was there. Had Sebastian pushed further, I wouldn't have been able to fight him off. I was so confused. He pushes me away but then comes to rescue me. What did he want?

"why am I here Jensen?" I asked looking at his clenched jaw.

Jensen stared at me intently as if trying to formulate an answer, or an excuse, I wouldn't know which is which. It was a moment before he responded.

"It seems I'm incapable of leaving you alone." He said turning away from me.

Holy Fuck.

I felt my heart rate increase and the heat igniting my skin.

"then don't." I whispered biting my lip.

"(y/n), I told you..." He started but I cut him off.

"you don't do relationships, I know, but that doesn't mean we can't have anything." I said surprising him, even surprising myself.

Jensen didn't respond, I looked up at him to see him grabbing a piece of toast spreading some jam on it.

"you need to eat something, you threw up a lot last night." He said handing me the toast and ignoring what I said.

I hesitantly took it from him, biting off the corner. He sat down on the bed staring up at me, as if he were checking that I was actually going to eat it. He had a commanding presence and I didn't know whether to be incredibly intimidated or incredibly turned on.

"I'm really sorry you had to deal with me, I hope I didn't disrupt your night too much?" I questioned hesitantly looking at him.

"just my sleeping arrangements, I'm not use to sharing a bed.

Holy Fuck.

"we uh slept together?" I asked.

"well you slept in the bed and I slept in the bed so if you want to call that sleeping together then yeah." He said taking a bite off the other corner of my toast.

"we uh didn't do anything did we, just slept?" I asked in a shaky breath.

Jensen leaned in close to my ear. I could feel his breath on me, making shivers run down my spine.

"no, you see when I fuck, I like my women to be conscious and consenting, besides if we did, believe me baby you'd definitely be feeling it right now." He whispered seductively.

I couldn't help but clench my thighs together at his words.

Holy Fuck.

I was speechless. I felt the heat spread between my legs, and the breath get caught in my throat. I bite my lip looking in his eyes.

"so is that all you want, someone to pleasure you?" I spoke softly not trusting my own voice.

"that's part of it, but that's not entirely all there is to it." He said.

"then what else?"

Jensen smirked looking down at me biting my lip. He towered over me even sitting.

"why? are you interested?" He asked cocking his eyebrow.

I shuddered at his husky voice. He knew exactly what he was doing.

"maybe, what do I get out of it?" I asked feeling a burst of confidence.

"Me." He smirked putting his large hand on my bare thigh.

Holy Fuck.

I gotta stop thinking the word Fuck.

"that's quite pretentious of you Mr. Ackles...but say I am interested, are you going to clue me in on the rest?" I asked seductively cocking my head to the side.

Jensen wore a shit eating grin, like he had me exactly where he wanted me.

"not right now, I have to go into the office, and I want to take things slow." He laughed getting up.

I breathed out a shaky sigh.

Fucking tease.

God this man was doing things to me. He threw me my clothes that were now freshly laundered.

"get dressed, I'll take you home." He smirked.

I got off the bed heading in to his large ensuite bathroom. I grimaced at my reflection in the mirror, my hair was a mess, my makeup smeared. I splashed some water on my face and ran a wet hand through my hair to hopefully flatten some of the flyaways. I slowly pulled my pants back on, discarding his shirt and replacing it with mine. I grabbed some mouthwash he had on the counter, swishing it around to get the taste of alcohol and vomit out of my mouth. I bit my lip looking in the mirror.

This was crazy.

I hesitantly grabbed the door handle slipping out. Jensen now stood in a suit and tie, looking as handsome as ever. God he looked good.

"ready?" He asked looking down at me.

I nodded my head having to peel my eyes away from his body. I had to stop staring before I did something I regretted.

He put a hand to the small of my back leading me out the door and to the elevator. I didn't have to look at him to feel his gaze on me as we waited for the elevator.

We walked in when it arrived, standing side by side but extremely close. The air between us was thick and heavy. I bit my lip trying my hardest not to look up at him, and fiddled with my hands at my sides.

"you know what fuck slow."

I gasped as Jensen grabbed my hands pinning them above my head and me to the back of the elevator, his lips crashing in to the arch of my neck. He kissed it roughly, trailing kisses up my neck along my chin and back down again. I moaned as his core pressed in to mine, his mouth traveling further down to my collarbone. He sucked on a especially sensitive spot making me whimper in pleasure.

Fuck did he know what he was doing.

He pulled away just as the elevator doors opened, a couple other men in suits walking in. He stood beside me smirking at the thought of getting caught. I hope I didn't look as flustered as I felt.

Only one thing was running through my head.

Holy Fuck.

Author Note:

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Part (III)

[impala-dreamer]

Hi. May I please kiss your throat?

[cherryblossom-barnes]

SEBASTIAN STAN leaving the CAA’s Pre-Oscar party yesterday.

[thetequilatragedies]

I would love it if my manager stopped trying to add me from fake accounts. I’m here on Monday. Chill, Tim.

[siennafrxst]

↳ a drunken night 𖤐𓈒࣪₊˚

(part 2)

if you haven’t read chapter 1, click here.

word count: 0.4k words

Knock. Knock. Knock.

As Y/N was drying her hair with a towel, she turns to the sudden disturbance coming from behind the door.

“Come in,” she announces loudly for the other person to be able to hear.

The door immediately swings open, revealing the person hiding behind it.

“Seb, hey,” Y/N greets, a hint of slight surpise in her tone.

It seemed as though he had just gotten out of bed and put on a quick attire, due to his messy brown curls and foggy features. Goddamnit, why did he have to look so cute like this?

“Hey,” he greets back, closing the door behind him.

Snapping herself out of her absurd thoughts before being managed to get caught for staring, she connects her eyes with his. The two share an intimate moment of staring, both seeming to be hesitating to say the same desired words.

Do you remember last night?

“Uhm, how’s your hangover? Are you feeling okay?” she quickly asks to fill in the awkward silence.

Sebastian sighs heavily in exhaust. “S’okay. I mean, better than it was when I initially woke up, at least.”

She nodded in agreement, offering a soft smile at the man.

Sebastian brings a hand behind his neck, slightly biting his lower lip before speaking up once more. “Uhm, about last night…”

Y/N gulps nervously as she heard those words. What if he still remembered..?

“Thank you for taking care of me, I’m sure that I was a load to deal with.”

She chuckles in an attempt to hide her sigh of relief. “Of course. I’m here for you, Seb.”

He returns a sheepish smile at his best friend as a sign of gratitude.

And then it was silent yet again. The words were at the tip of their tongue, begging to be released. But neither of them said another word. They simply stood in the regretful silence, so close yet so far from each other, both fearing that they would lose their friendship over some stupid crush.

Little did they know, it wasn’t so stupid after all.

“Well, I better go now. See you later, okay? I’ll make this up to you, I promise.”

Y/N nods slightly. “Yeah, sure. I’ll hold you to that promise.”

Sebastian lets out a soft chuckle before waving a good bye, seeming to hesitate momentarily before exiting the room and closing the door, leaving Y/N alone with her dreaded thoughts.

Was she too late?

click here for the alternate, happier ending. :)

[buckythinker]

Sebaaaaaaastian. Need u sooooo bad…

[cosmicwavelengths]

staring problem

pairing: avenger! bucky barnes x physical therapist! reader summary: you’ve been working with sam, joaquin, and bucky for the past few months, and you couldn’t help but notice how bucky just… stares. (based off of dialogue from the falcon and the winter soldier: “does he always just stare like that?” “you get used to it.” and “you’re doing the staring thing again.” + more)

a/n: hello and welcome to my first one shot! i saw captain america: brave new world last week and it was tremendous! i went back and watched the falcon and the winter soldier and it inspired me to write this fic. i've been pretty excited to share this, so i hope you enjoy! likes and reblogs are always appreciated forehead kiss

comments/tags: ca:bnw (spoilers!), fluff, bucky barnes is a 106 year old grumpy ass, bucky has a staring problem (quite severely), physical therapist/trainer f! reader, sam wilson, joaquin torres, bucky doesn’t hate joaquin here but he has a youthful energy that old man barnes finds mildly exhausting (sometimes), there’s technically a girthy age gap between bucky and reader (probably 60-80 years) but bucky can’t help that so we will collectively ignore it, strangers-to-lovers except bucky is just Confused, no y/n use

cw: mentions of alcohol (drinking, reader getting drunk), sebastian stan’s intense glare (swoon), kissing, language (bucky has a potty mouth)

wc: 3.9k | masterlist | ao3 ────୨ৎ────

In his 106 or so years, you were the first person who Bucky Barnes met that genuinely perplexed  him. And he couldn’t exactly put his finger on why.

During his over-extended life, he prided himself on his ability to read people and understand their intentions almost immediately. Maybe he’s a cynic, but he finds it to be much easier to organize the recurring figures of his life into different areas of his mind. Of course, there’s the rare individual that Bucky genuinely likes, such as Sam. And with others he tolerates, like Joaquín. But you? He wasn’t exactly sure how he felt. And if Bucky was being honest with himself, it scares him.

Considering he already knows almost everything about you, it’s almost frustrating how little Bucky truly knows you. Sure, Joaquín sat you all down as a group to discuss their new physical therapist. Similar to Joaquín in age, graduated from college not too long ago,, has significant experience with working with service men. You’ve been working with them for nearly six months already, and Bucky has yet to properly assess where you sit in his brain.

Whenever you entered the room -- any room, you had a certain energy. Maybe it’s the way you carry yourself, but you seem to have this natural ability to alter the space around you in some way. Your teeth and eyes seemed to sparkle, the way they open up so wide to greet him and the others at the beginning of each training session.

“Does he always just stare like that?” you inquire quietly, leaning over to Sam as you create a hamstring out of a roll of kinesiology tape. You subtly nudge your arm in the general direction where Bucky stood next to the weight rack.

Sam chuckles, “You get used to it.” You shrug in response, putting your head down and continuing to wrap the tape around his calf. “He might be a bionic staring machine, but he’s been through a lot. It’s just how he is, I wouldn’t take it personally,” he smiles down at you. Making a quick glance in his direction, Bucky continues to stare pointedly, brows furrowed and jaw clenched. Intimidating. You suppose any regular person would be skeeved out under such intense pressure, but it makes you rather demure. Even though you’re looking in his direction, he continues to look at you with his intense eyes. You’d think that most people would stop after being noticed, especially since you’ve caught him staring at you more than twice, but he continues with his piercing gaze anyways. 

Since Sam had decided to rebuild the Avengers, you had been brought in as their physical therapist. If you were honest, you weren’t exactly sure why superheroes of all people needed physical therapy, with what cutting edge technology and medicine they have at their disposal, but it pays well and you can’t complain about that in this economy.. Since starting, you’ve already become relatively close with Sam and Joaquín. But Bucky…

…Well, judging by the way he’s practically staring through you, you’d be safe in assuming that he hates you or something. You’ve not really had a chance to have a full fledged conversation with him. You helped him stretch, applied kinesio tape when asked. Within your first few days here, you surmised that he was just a private person. But, you’ve seen the quick smiles he flashed at Sam and the occasional short conversation with Joaquín. You normally don’t take these things too personally, but the people pleaser side of you tends to rear its ugly head. Aside from that, there was something about Bucky that made you want him to like you at least a little bit. You’ve tried your best to be friendly to him during your brief interactions, but he didn’t seem to have much of an interest in conversing with you past exchanging pleasantries. Even though it hurts a little, it’s just how some of these jobs go, after all, you can’t expect to be friends with all your clients. But his nearly constant staring at you is… menacing.

“I just don’t think he’s taken to me that well,” you breathe, finishing the wrap on his quad and cutting away the excess tape with scissors. “He doesn’t seem to like talking to me… or like me, at all.”

“It’s not you,” Sam reassures gently. “Give him some time to open up.”

--

“Y’know, you probably scare her with how much you stare at her like that.”

Bucky re-racked the weights with much more force than he wanted, causing the weights to make a heavy clunk sound against the metal, making her and Sam’s heads snap over in their direction. Shit.

Bucky looks at Joaquín and frowns. “Don’t sneak up on me like that. And I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Dude, you have something of a staring problem,” says Joaquín. “Do you know that? It’s important to us that you know that. You have zero tact.”

Bucky grumbles under his breath in response, turning back to the weight rack to select a heavier dumbbell. “At least say something to her when we go out later? You can tell it bothers her,” Joaquín offers with a smile. Bucky steps back from the rack, preparing for his next set. “Stay out of my business, Torres.”

“This seems like a very unnatural problem for someone like you to have. Maybe we should call Wakanda, tell them that our cyborg puppet has stopped working and is in urgent need of recalibration.”

“Fuck off.”

--

The bar is loud. Far too loud for Bucky’s taste as he enters the establishment with Sam. Had it been up to him, he would have picked his usual quiet spot near his apartment. But, it is her six month anniversary of working with the guys, and Bucky wasn’t going to miss a chance to drink for free on Sam’s tab. Bucky stuffs his hands deeper into the pockets of his leather jacket, scanning the many faces around the room. Keep an eye out for any potential threats…

“Well?” Sam asks, turning to Bucky and breaking him out of his concentration. Bucky’s jaw tightens, “Don’t you and Torres know better than to be in my business?” he says, crabbily. Sam shrugs his shoulders, hands out in defense. “Hey! I just want you to be happy, man. Just think about what Torres said, maybe?” He steps back from Bucky with a smile, clapping his hand against Bucky’s shoulder before approaching Joaquín at the bar. And there you are, sitting next to Joaquín, shining like the stars and moon… yet unsteady. Your warm expression grows upon seeing Sam, pulling him into a tight hug. What the hell, sure, Bucky ponders briefly before stalking up to the only open space in the bar and ordering a beer.

“Sam!” you answer excitedly, throwing your arms around him in a warm hug. He reciprocates in kind, saying a quick greeting during the embrace. “Wo-oah there!” Sam teases, “Has Joaquín here been filling you up with drinks here?” He gestures to the glassware that you and Joaquín collected, lightly crowding the bar surface.

“Hey, look, it’s a cheat night for all of us, and more importantly, her six month work anniversary!” Joaquín reminds Sam with a laugh. “Yes, tonight is all about me, guys,” you tease, smiling lazily at them. You generally don’t make it a habit to engage with clients outside of the gym, but Sam and Joaquín had truly welcomed you to the team with open arms these last few months. It was truly kind of Sam to pick up the tab tonight, and you’d feel rude refusing.

You settle back into your barstool as Sam and Joaquín begin a conversation. You scan the many faces around the U-shaped bar until you notice Bucky standing there, waiting on his drink. He’s of average height, about six feet tall or so, yet he stands out among the others around him. He wears his infamous scowl as he toys with his leather gloves. You took care in noticing how the light of the bar catches his upper cheek bone and the top of his jawline by his ear. His brooding blue eyes as they scan the area round him. So intimidating… yet..

He glances up at you quickly, incidentally locking eyes with you across the bar. Your eyes grow wide, feeling smaller than you’ve ever felt before. It’s almost eerie the way he studies you, as if he is trying to memorize every atom and particle of your facial structure. You almost freeze under his watch, sobering up a little as you sit up straighter. Properly. You cast out your usual friendly gestures, an invitation -- a small smile and a shy wave of your finger tips. Maybe it’s your alcohol-muddled brain playing tricks on you, but you could’ve sworn that the corner of his lips turned ever so slightly upwards.

It felt like time stopped when Bucky noticed you. The small wisps of your hair caught by the lowlights above the bar, reaching to the bow of the lips that once held a grin. Your wide eyes holding a sparkle of light. How he can see the way your skin flushes due to your alcohol consumption. Bucky finds it adorable the way you lightly smile at him, waving your hand gently. He sees the way you’re a bit wobbly, having to lean against the bar to keep things steady. He couldn’t help but be amused. His attention is torn away by the bartender setting down the beer bottle in front of him. Bucky fishes for cash in his pocket, setting it in the man’s hand and finally approaching the group.

He stuffs his beer-less hand deep into his jacket pocket as he stops next to Sam. He claps his hand on Bucky’s shoulder in greeting, Bucky acknowledges him with a slight nod of his head. “Bucky!” Sam exclaims, gesturing to the group. “Welcome. We were wondering when you’d show up!” Bucky looks at him with a tired expression. “Lost track of time at the gym,” he mumbles. “Likely story,” Joaquín laughs, before being cut short by Bucky nudging him sharply with his flesh elbow, using a bit more force than necessary.

--

Minutes pass. Then an hour. Two hours. Rounds of drinks later, you all lapse into steady conversation telling lively stories of the past, previous jobs, missions, interactions with other superheroes. You and Joaquín chortle together loudly at Sam’s seemingly endless stream of stories and jokes, while Bucky resigns himself to polite nods as he sips on his beer. The initial lively crowd of the bar had died down to the regular crowd, who’d delegated themselves to chatting amongst themselves, playing darts and shooting pool.

Several vodka cranberries in, your face and hands feel oddly numb, and the room spins more than usual. Shame on you for thinking you can match Joaquín drink for drink. Sam and Joaquín throw back the last of their drinks before heading off to the pool tables. Bucky stares off at them as they apply blue chalk to the tips of their cue sticks, ready to begin a match.

Turning towards Bucky, you prop yourself up against the bar, cheek in hand. You attempt to mock the way he stares at you, to make him feel how you’ve felt all these months.

“So,” you hiccup, interrupting yourself with a shy giggle. “What’s your deal?” You mockingly raise an eyebrow. “What’s your damage, Bucky? What is it about me you don’t like?” It slips out so easily. You should be embarrassed, but you’re far too gone.

Bucky sits up straight, giving you an unsure glance. That’s new. “I’m not sure what you--.”

“And you’re doing that staring thing again, that thing you do with me,” you comment, words slurring slightly as you gesturing unsteadily in Sam and Joaquín’s direction. “When you look at me like that, I can’t tell if ‘ya like or hate me!”

“Y’know, maybe I’m a people pleaser or sumthin’, but I-I really want you to like me, I think,” you sigh. Shrugging comically, you throw back the rest of your drink sitting on the bar. Leaning over, you clap your hand over his large gloved one. Bucky freezes, suddenly being hyper aware of what you’re doing and how small your hand feels compared to his. “And y’know what else? I don’t even mind when you stare at me like that. It’s almost as hot as it is intimidating.”

Bucky was warm -- not from the alcohol. He knows he can’t really get drunk anymore due to the serum, but he still feels the sweat from his palms against the smooth leather interior of his padded globes. And again, he states. Wide eyed at the flushness that cascaded down her cheeks to her collar bones. She fully lost herself in a fit of uncontrollable giggles, leaning against the bar again, not even knowing what you’re doing to him.

He wants to look everywhere all at once, eyes darting. Your bright, round lips stained with cranberry juice and the remnants of your lip gloss. The small beads of sweat by your temples and the crown of your hair. Your smooth thighs, sparkling in certain spots from the cold  of your glass. Bucky was truly rendered speechless. Not that he usually speaks much. Not that he was able to get much of a word in with you beforehand. But this time, he feels truly stumped. So, naturally, he did what any former brainwashed assassin turned semi-normal guy would do. With every ounce of charisma and bravado that a man like him could gather, he took one last look at her and drank the last bit of his beer. “Excuse me,” he said with a voice he was unfamiliar with, and turned around to walk out of the bar. And kept walking. All the way home.

--

Sleep is elusive to Bucky, who had spent the previous night drifting in and out of light sleep. He usually takes this as a sign to get an early start of the day, maybe go for a long run or walk outside.

He rises, making his way to the bathroom.. Squeezing out toothpaste, Bucky couldn’t help but reflect upon the event of the previous night. The sound of your gleeful, drunken laugh. How the warmth radiated off of your body. He can just barely recall the ghostly weight of your hand on the back of his. Even through his thick gloves, you may as well have burned him.

As Bucky splashes water on his face, he concludes that maybe a run wasn’t what he needed. The subway station was right outside of the bar on East Houston Street, yet he elected to walk two hours back home to his apartment in Brooklyn instead. He’d hoped that walking over the Manhattan Bridge in the middle of the night would turn out to be somewhat therapeutic, yet he was still unable to shake the memory of you at the bar. 

Letting out a deep breath, he takes a moment to sit on the couch and put his boots on. Standing, he shrugs on his leather jacket and reaches for the gloves in his pocket. Gloves you touched, he recalls, feeling uncharacteristically giddy about it. Heading out the door, he hopes that this early morning workout will help him clear his head.

--

It is far too early to wake up today, especially after having a night out like that. You awake with a raging headache, an unsettled stomach, and an aggressive thought of what the fuck did you do. As you lie there, gazing at your slowly spinning ceiling fan, you start to feel each and every one of the drinks. Groaning, you sit up, clutching your stomach in an attempt to settle yourself and you are quickly reminded of the conversation you had with Bucky. At that, you shoot up far quicker than you should, running to the toilet to rid yourself of the contents of your stomach and regrets from last night. Sigh.

You couldn’t believe that you had said that, feeling waves of embarrassment. You normally wouldn’t push yourself that far with the drinks, much less with the boundaries of a client. Grimacing, you reach up to the counter, feeling for a towel to wipe your face of sweat and residual make-up. Turning on the faucet, you cup water into your hands to drink and splash your face with cold water. Approaching your closet, you preemptively mourn one of the best jobs you’ve ever had. Every fiber of your being begs you to return to bed and wallow in self pity, but you think it’s best that you get to the gym early for a quick workout. Sweat out the hangover, you think bitterly. Your head lightly pounds when you make a sudden movement. Bringing your hand to your forehead, you realize this is going to be one long day.

Entering the compound, you hear the sound of a treadmill running and rhythmic steps in accompaniment. It would be good to see Sam or Joaquín, figuring that one of them decided to work off the alcohol consumed last night. But since you are, evidently, not God’s favorite, running on the treadmill is someone you’d rather avoid right now. And there’s Bucky Barnes, shirtless and sweating as he jogs on the machine. Your eyes follow his dog tags dangling from his neck, bouncing rhythmically against his skin. He heaves gently, hair flopping with each step. 

Even though you stopped in your tracks, he had already felt your presence and began slowing down. Bucky steps off the treadmill, collecting his water and patting his forehead with a small towel he brought. You figure it’s best to just talk and not dance around the topic. He didn’t seem like the type to beat around the bush. You breathe shakily before approaching him.

“Hi, Bucky,” you say, tone laced with nerves.. “Look, about last night—”

“Hey, it’s fine.” he interjects accidentally, cutting you off. He raises a gentle hand of reassurance. “You don’t need to apologize for anything.”

Your shoulders relax a bit, knowing that there was maybe a small chance that he wouldn’t tell Sam or Joaquín about your interaction. “Thank you, it’s just that I rarely go out with clients like that, nor do I drink that heavily.” You shift lightly on your feet, fumbling with your water bottle. “I didn’t mean to be unprofessional or cross any boundaries. I just hope that we could maybe move past this, pretend like it didn’t happen?” Smiling, you look up at the taller man, eyes filled with hope. He himself shifts on his feet, “Oh, I didn’t realize we were just clients to you.” You look down with embarrassment, searching for a response. “Uh, I didn’t mean any offense—”

“I’m just teasin’, sweetheart,” the nickname rolling smoothly off his tongue with a smile. A smile. “Did you really mean what you said, though? About me staring?” Drunk words are sober thoughts, he recalls to himself, having learned the phrase from Torres. You flush, suddenly taking interest in the top of your water bottle rather than the man in front of you. Him speaking with you, much less jokingly is more than foreign territory for you. “I-I mean,” you sputter out, self consciousness taking charge. “I wouldn’t mind being friends with you, of course, I try my best to be friendly with the people I work with.” He takes a step closer. “Now, you and I both know that that’s not the part we are talking about.” Your breath hitches. You take in how you feel crowded by him. He’s not exactly within your personal space. Yet.

“Really, I’m the one that should be apologizing.” Bucky says, loosening up. With a sigh, he starts: “I’m sorry to have kept you at arms length all this time. It’s rather difficult for ‘someone like me,’” he dramatically emphasizes with air quotes, “to ‘nurture friendships.’” So says my therapist, he thinks with an internal eye roll. “What’s wrong with me isn’t your fault. I’m just old and cynical.” He pats the outside of your arm in reassurance. You smile, feeling the spot grow warm under his touch. “For the record, I don’t exactly mind that you called me hot, either,” he casually notes. “It’s certainly better than the other reactions I tend to get.” You didn’t think it was possible to blush harder, feeling the warmth creep down your chest. Fuck, you were hoping he wouldn’t mention that part specifically, but you can roll with it. “Well, I do pride myself on being honest, I guess,” you chuckle nervously trying to play it off as cool.

“Y’know, since I had met you, I had been so confused on what to think of you. In all my life, I had never met anyone that was able to do that to me.” His voice darkens. “Care to clue me in as to why?” You feel stuck again, just how you felt last night when he was staring you down at the bar. You attempt to nervously mutter out a response, which instead leaves your mouth gaping open. He closes in on your space, you can feel his body heat radiating off of him. He glances down at your curved lips, light pink and glistening, then back into your doe eyes. “Please, sweetheart, it drives me crazy when you look at me like that,” he uses the nickname again, making your mind spin and your knees a bit weak. “You have no idea what you do to me, do you?”

His eyes drop to your lips again as you stand there, stupefied. His eyes drift downwards to your lips and you almost feel like crumbling under the sudden pressure. He closes in again, sneaking his hands around your waist to pull you in closer. You’re both suspended in silence for a beat, and you think your heart would stop until he continues. “I don’t mean to make things weird, but maybe I like the way you fluster when I look at you.  I’ve been alive for a long, long time, and you’re the first person I’ve met that’s made me feel this way.”

Before you were aware of his movements, he closed the distance. Your eyes flutter shut as you take in the softness of Bucky’s lips, moving slowly and calculating over your own. His grip tightens on your waist, and you feel how the tips of his fingers press into your skin, making your mind go white. You press your body closer to him, breathing heavily as you press your lips against his. He pulls away when he feels your knees buckle gently, chuckling. “Careful, doll. I hope I didn’t make you uncomfortable.” You shake your head in an effort to come to and give him a response. “N-no, It’s fine, you didn’t make me feel uncomfortable.” 

“Good,” he replies, voice darkening. He laughs again, causing you to giggle with him and lean in again.

“You do have a staring problem, though,” Sam chides through the speaker of Red Wing. Thecombat drone floats into your line of sight, hovering menacingly over Bucky’s shoulder. You jump back away from Bucky as if you were burned, feeling embarrassed. Bucky sighs exasperatedly, leaning against the treadmill and shaking his head. “By the way, thanks for finally taking our advice! I have all of that on camera, you know that, right?”

Bucky rolls his eyes with a huff. “Get out of my face, Sam, or I’ll break it.”

[james-bucky-barnackle]

Misery

Pairing: Drew Starkey x Actress!Reader Summary: You’re forced to star opposite Drew in Maroon 5's Misery—a music video filled with guns, fistfights, and unbearable sexual tension. You can’t stand him, and he thinks you’re an ass. But between takes, bruised egos, and unexpected confessions, maybe you weren’t so different after all.

You weren’t supposed to be here. Well, technically, he wasn’t supposed to be here.

Sebastian Stan had been cast in Maroon 5’s latest music video, Misery, opposite you—your friend, your occasional wingman, and the only person who could get away with roasting you publicly. But last-minute "scheduling conflicts" had pulled him from the project, and now you were stuck with Drew.

Drew, who once stepped on your gown at an awards show, ripping the delicate lace along the hem, and had the audacity to keep walking without an apology. Drew, who laughed about it later with his castmate, flipping each other off like a pair of overgrown teenagers. Drew, who, despite his reckless immaturity, had a ridiculous jawline, unfairly good hair, and a knack for playing arrogant pricks both on and off camera.

The silver lining? This wasn’t a romantic video—it was a full-fledged action sequence, with you and Drew playing rival agents fighting over a briefcase. You were getting paid to beat the shit out of him, and you were going to enjoy it.

The set was a grungy downtown alley, lined with neon lights and flickering street signs. The director, a wiry man with too much energy and a headset perpetually glued to his ears, clapped his hands together as the crew set up.

“Alright, people! High tension, high stakes. We want passion, violence—this is a love story told through combat!” He turned to you and Drew. “You two? You hate each other, but you want to rip each other’s clothes off just as badly. The fight is the foreplay.”

You deadpanned. “Can’t wait.”

Drew just smirked, shifting his stance. “Likewise.”

You rolled your eyes and took your mark. You were both dressed in black. A lacy black top covered your torso, matched with black denim jeans with atrocious rips. Drew wore a black suit with a white shirt underneath, covered in his own fake blood.

The first take was a chase sequence. As the first verse played in the background, you darted through the alley, the briefcase clutched in one hand, boots skidding on wet pavement. Drew was hot on your heels, his breathing sharp behind you. Then—

Bang!—a fake gunshot rang out, and you ducked just in time, using a parked motorcycle as cover. Drew rounded the corner, sleek in his tactical gear, eyes locked on you. He looked way too smug.

“You run slow for a top agent,” he taunted, lowering his fake gun.

You huffed, chest rising and falling. “And you shoot like a drunk toddler.”

His smirk widened. “That supposed to hurt my feelings?”

“No, just your ego.”

“Alright, cut!” the director shouted. “Good tension! But we need more—make it look like you want to kill each other and kiss each other at the same time.”

You exhaled sharply. Of course.

The next take was a brutal hand-to-hand combat scene. You slammed Drew against a chain-link fence, forearm against his throat. His fingers gripped your wrist, yanking you closer until your faces were inches apart. *Why won't you answer me, the silence is slowly killing me* blares through the speakers.

“Getting a little close there,” he murmured, voice low.

“You’re the one who pulled me in.”

“Maybe I just wanted to see if you smelled as expensive as you look.”

You didn’t hesitate—you kneed him in the stomach.

He doubled over, wheezing. “Jesus Christ.”

The director cheered. “YES! That’s exactly what we need! Keep the tension—love it!”

Drew shot you a look, but there was something different in his eyes now. Something almost nervous.

Later, between takes, you caught Drew staring at you from the makeup chair.

“What?” you asked, popping a piece of gum into your mouth.

He hesitated, then shrugged. “I thought you were an asshole.”

You blinked. “Excuse me?”

“I mean—” He ran a hand through his hair, exhaling. “You always looked at me like you wanted to throw me off a building. I figured you just hated me.”

You chewed slowly, watching him. “I do hate you.”

He grinned. “Yeah? Then why were you so into that fight scene?”

You leaned forward, your smirk mirroring his. “Because I was getting paid to hit you.”

His laugh was unexpected—low and genuine. “Fair enough.” Drew had heard earlier from one of the PA's why you hated him so much. The mystery seems to have unveiled itself, it almost feels like you were method acting.

Between takes, you found yourself cooling off by the craft services table when Drew sat beside you, stretching his arm with a wince. “You fight dirty,” he muttered.

You smirked. “You act like you weren’t enjoying it.”

“I might be a little masochistic,” he admitted. Then, after a beat, “I heard you wanted Sebastian for this.”

Your hand paused mid-reach for a water bottle. You glanced at him. “I did want Sebastian for this.”

Drew let out a breathy chuckle. “Brutal.”

“It’s not you—” you hesitated. “I mean, it was you, but not in the way you think. You’ve never exactly given me a reason to like you.”

He scoffed. “I didn’t know stepping on your dress made me public enemy number one.”

Your jaw tightened, who told him? “It wasn’t just that. It was how you handled it. You didn’t even apologize.”

He blinked, brows pulling together. “Shit. I… didn’t even realize.”

You shrugged, breaking eye contact. “Doesn’t matter now.”

But something about the way he looked at you made it seem like it did.

The last shot of the video had you straddling him on the pavement, both of you battered and bruised, guns discarded. The briefcase sat between you, untouched.

The director’s voice cut through the air. “Remember, you don’t know if you want to end this or continue it. Maybe this fight never ends.”

*Girl you really got me bad, you really got me bad*

Drew’s hand tightened around your wrist. Your breathing was heavy, your body pressed against his.

His voice was barely above a whisper. “Guess we’ll never know, huh?”

You stared at him, the heat between you suffocating.

And then, in the final second before cut—you smirked.

Because maybe the fight wasn’t over just yet.

When the final cut was called, you rolled off Drew with a sigh, lying flat on your back on the pavement. He stayed beside you, exhaling heavily.

“Damn,” he muttered. “That was intense.”

You turned your head to face him. “Tell me about it.”

A silence stretched between you before he finally spoke. “For what it’s worth, I really didn’t mean to step on your dress.”

You blinked, caught off guard by his sincerity.

“And,” he continued, turning his head to meet your gaze, “I wasn’t trying to be a dick when I didn’t apologize. I just… I get weird at events. Nervous. I act like an idiot because I don’t know how else to handle it.”

You studied him. The confident, cocky persona was still there, but underneath it? Something else. Something… real.

“Guess I was wrong about you,” you admitted quietly.

Drew smirked, though it was softer this time. “Guess we were both wrong.”

A beat of silence. Then, casually, he said, “You know… we don’t have to keep hating each other.”

You arched a brow. “Oh?”

“I’m saying,” he drawled, sitting up, “maybe we try something different.”

“Like what?”

He grinned, the kind that should’ve been infuriating but wasn’t. “Like dinner. Maybe a drink.”

You pretended to consider it. “You asking me out, Drew?”

He shrugged. “I’m saying we call it a rematch. No fists this time.”

A slow smirk spread across your lips. “I’ll think about it.”

And, judging by the way his grin widened, he knew exactly what that meant.

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[smoooothoperator]

What Was I Made For?

04: Reputation

Charles Leclerc x driver!OC (Dafne Morelli)

childhood enemies, forced proximity, accidental pregnancy, enemies to lovers

Warnings: anxiety, social anxiety, hate, Sebastian Stan (yes, he's a warning🫣🫠)

a/n: Hiiii!!! How are you doing? Here you have a new chapter! What do you guys think that will happen next? I'll read you! Oh! And at the end of the chapter you have some surprises!!

Masterlist

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They always said that hair holds memories.

When I was little, I always liked to have long hair because I loved standing in front of the bathroom mirror and watching how my mom tied it up in a ponytail, pigtails, or braids. It was a moment for the two of us, watching each other through the reflection of the mirror, my eyes following the gentle movement of her hands and fingers through my hair, and seeing how she wrapped a colorful tie around it. Sometimes she even wrapped a ribbon and made a little bow.

When I started karting, I always tied my hair in two braids and wrapped them around my head, making me look like I was wearing a crown made of my own hair. It was useful, letting me be comfortable with the helmet and not worrying about tucking my hair inside the suit to keep it from going wild while I drove.

Growing up, I always took care of it, sometimes getting attention from my girl classmates who asked me for tips on how to take care of their hair, wanting to know what products I used to make my soft curls look perfect.

When I started to get a little famous, brands like Kérastase and Garnier wanted me to be their face and sponsor me.

My hair holds so many memories. It was part of my identity.

But it holds bad memories too.

Charles pulling my pigtails. Nearly ruining my hair after dyeing it during a breakdown. Charles putting gum in it. Having nightmares after watching “V for Vendetta,” thinking that someone shaved my head.

If I want to be a new version of myself, I have to cut things from the root.

New hair. New me.

“Dafne, why are people saying that you hired a lawyer and you'll file a lawsuit against Charles?”

A few days later, after the unfortunate meeting and call with Fred, my sister Erica came to help me get ready for an event in Tuscany. Something about a high society charity event.

“You are taking it too—” she stopped, turning around and looking at me as I walked out of the bathroom. “Did you cut and dye your hair?”

“Yeah,” I shrugged, grabbing my makeup bag and putting it in the suitcase.

“What? Why?” she frowned.

“Because I wanted to,” I said. “It's easier to style, easier to wash.”

“You never complained about your long hair!” she exclaimed, making me roll my eyes. “And why is it blonde?”

“Because I wanted to, Erica!” I sighed. “I wanted to try something different! Jeez!”

She frowned slightly, scanning me with her eyes. And somehow I felt so small, judged by her.

“Blonde doesn't look bad on you,” she smiled, finally. “But it will be weird, you always had long hair.”

“I know,” I sighed, touching my hair and biting my lip when I felt it barely touched my shoulders.

She looked at me, following my movements with her eyes. It’s like she was waiting for me to talk more, to explain, to break down. She waited for me to say something, to answer that first question she asked, wanting me to tell her what I had been doing the last two days.

“Well?” she frowned. “Why did you hire a lawyer?”

“Take a guess,” I said, shrugging my shoulders. “A certain someone just talked shit about me some days ago, and let’s not talk about the so-called punishment he will receive.”

“Look, what he did wasn’t nice. But he was drunk,” Erica sighed, making me feel betrayed.

“So? Does that give him the right to talk shit?” I frowned. “You are my sister, and you are defending him? He won’t apologize for that, Erica!”

She took a deep breath looking at me and I looked away, clenching my jaw. I know she gets along with him, that Jules connects them and somehow they share the pain of losing him. But why is she defending him?

“I’m not defending him,” she said, her voice sounding more serious. “But this is getting out of control, Dafne. You two have to stop now before the whole team and our families get more involved.”

“Sure,” I scoffed. “I’ll make sure to stop this.”

She rolled her eyes and sighed, getting up from my bed and grabbing everything so we could leave for the event. I made sure to leave enough food for my cat and then I grabbed the keys and my bag.

The event was not far from where I live, making it easier and faster to go, just using Erica's car and then reserving a hotel room so I could get changed and ready for the event. My sister Erica always made sure to have everything ready, the makeup and hair artists would be there shortly after we arrived at the room.

“I don’t think the hair team would be necessary,” I sighed, looking out of the window, watching the landscape pass by.

“They’ll find something to do,” she sighed. “I hired them, and if it sounds bad, I won't pay them to do nothing. At least let them… I don't know, do a hairstyle or something.”

“Yeah, sure,” I sighed.

When we arrived at the hotel near the event place, I opened the door and immediately heard people calling my name.

My name and some other nasty names.

“Whore! Slut!”

I clenched my jaw, trying to focus on the people that came to me with a smile, holding notebooks and pens, signing the papers, and taking pictures with those who showed me their phones.

But at some point, the insults grew louder, making my sister walk towards me and hold my arm, pushing me inside the hotel.

“Now do you understand why I'll sue him?” I mumbled, clenching my jaw and pulling my arm away from her hold, walking towards the elevator and waiting for her to grab the room key card.

I looked down at my phone, trying my hardest not to open my social media. If they dare to call me those names in person, I don't want to know what they call me on Twitter or Instagram.

“Erase the media apps,” Erica said, getting in the elevator with me.

“I barely open them,” I lied.

“I don't care. Erase them from your phone.”

I sighed and nodded, grabbing my phone and doing what she said. I should let my manager take care of this if there was something to worry about.

“And that lawsuit…” she sighed.

“I won't give up on that,” I whispered. “He took things too far this time. I won't let him act however he wants and think he can stay innocent all the time.”

“God, if only you two acted like adults and talked things out…” she sighed, rolling her eyes.

If only she knew… All the times I tried to talk to him, he came up with another reason for me to hate him. In the end, it was easier hating him than trying to befriend him.

“I think I reached out too many times, Erica,” I sighed. “And it's time for him to see that I'm not a doll he can play with.”

“But still…”

I shook my head and sighed, walking out of the elevator and going to the room. I opened the door with the card and got inside, sitting on the bed. The stylist team will come soon, so I have to get dressed quickly.

“This time it's his turn to fix things,” I said when I saw Erica walking in. “If he wants to, of course. But I highly doubt it.”

The dress is too tight. I can barely breathe with it.

Or maybe it is because of the anxiety making my chest and stomach feel tense.

The moment I got out of the car and my feet touched the ground, hearing the clicks of the cameras and the calls of the photographers, I felt my breath hitching in my throat. My palms started to sweat, making me rub them on the material of the dress to dry them, but they started shaking the moment I walked deeper into the crowd.

“Deep breaths,” Erica whispered, placing a hand on my back.

I nodded nervously and walked towards the photoshoot zone, watching the photographers take pictures of people in front of me: actors, models, singers, other athletes.

I took a deep breath and looked at the first cross on the floor that was closer to me. I have to wait for them to call my name and place me there.

“Dafne Morelli. Formula 1 driver,” someone said, the man in charge of the photoshoot.

I took a deep breath, two, three. Chin up. Shoulders back. Straight back. Fake smile.

I stood on the cross, looking around at the cameras when the photographers called my name. I tried to focus on the people who called me, ignoring the heartbeat pounding in my ears. Someone led me to the next cross and then to the next one. And when the photoshoot ended, I looked at the people with microphones and cameras.

“It's not obligatory to do interviews,” Erica said, holding my hand. “It's just for the people who were requested for it. And you are not on the list.”

“Oh… Sure,” I nodded. “That's better, honestly.”

She smiled weakly and nodded, walking with me to the main room where everyone would be sitting at tables for the gala.

“Who are we sitting with?” I asked her, leaning closer to her.

“Other athletes,” she said. “And the table closer to us is the one with actors.”

“And they are…?” I sighed, closing my eyes and fixing my hair a little.

“Believe me, you won't believe it,” she said.

“What? Why? Who is there, Meryl Streep?” I laughed softly. “Anne Hathaway? If she's there, please remind me to take a picture with her and invite her to a race.”

“Oh, Anne is, and of course, I'll remind you to invite her,” she smirked. “But someone else.”

“Who? Emma D’Arcy?” I gasped. “I haven't watched the new season of House of the Dragon yet!”

“She won't,” Erica laughed. “It's actually someone you have a crush on…”

“Wh—” I gasped. “No way.”

“Oh yes.”

“Oh God, Erica! If I was anxious now, I'd feel even more anxious!” I groaned. “Sebastian Stan is here?”

“Yep,” she smiled. “And he'll make a speech.”

“Oh fuck,” I sighed. “I can die in peace.”

“Drama queen,” she laughed softly, rolling her eyes.

When we finally walked inside the room, I somehow felt self-conscious. People looked at me the moment I walked in, talking in low voices, hiding their mouths with their hands.

Are they talking about me? Did they hear those false accusations? Do they believe what Charles said?

I sat at our table in silence, looking at the plate and not daring to look up. They are looking at me, right? They are talking about me.

I sat at the table, grabbing the napkin and placing it in my lap. I heard a waiter on my right, asking something, probably about a drink, since he was holding a bottle that looked like white wine. Not finding my own voice, I shook my head, avoiding eye contact with the waiter and grabbing the water bottle that was in front of me, filling the glass with cold water.

Somehow, the food right in front of me doesn't look good. I'm not hungry anymore. I looked around, smiling fakely while I grabbed the glass with cold water, drinking it all and serving myself another glass. I played with the food, tried to eat something, but the knot in my stomach was so tight that I could barely eat more than two bites. The water looks fresh and makes my throat less dry. The next dish looks delicious and smells amazing, but it's too much pasta, too much, and I can't eat it. I played again with it, moving the spaghetti around the plate to make it look like I ate something. The waiter took the plate away, barely touched. My glass of water was empty, I needed more water. More water. More water. The dessert, a tiramisu. My favorite. I wanted to eat it, but…

“I need to get some fresh air,” I mumbled to my sister, grabbing the napkin from my lap and getting up, not being aware that my favorite actor was talking through the speakers.

I walked out of the room, feeling everyone's eyes on me. My chest was burning, my heart was beating too fast.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” I mumbled, pacing back and forth, with my hand on my chest and trying to breathe.

I don't know what I was doing. My phone was in my hand, reinstalling Twitter and logging in.

Why am I doing this?

Hundreds. Thousands of notifications. Mentions, retweets, DMs.

I installed Instagram and logged in.

Mentions, tags, DMs.

Videos of Charles at that party. Of me screaming at him. My sister Soleil and Arthur holding me by my arms and pulling me away from him.

And then flashbacks came to my mind.

Charles in my room. Charles' lips on mine. Charles kissing my neck. Charles mumbling a name that's not mine. Me trying to fight but giving up. Me taking off his shirt. Him taking off my sleeping shirt. Us in bed. Charles kissing me. Charles moaning—

“Hey, are you okay?”

I gasped, flinching and dropping my phone to the floor when I turned around surprised, being taken out of a spiral of thoughts and flashbacks.

He was standing there. Sebastian Stan was standing there.

“Yeah, yeah, I…” I swallowed thickly, gasping softly when I felt small tears blurring my vision. “I'm okay.”

“You didn't look okay some minutes ago,” he smiled weakly. “I'm…”

“Sebastian Stan, I know,” I laughed nervously. “Big fan.”

“O-oh! Well, I'm a fan of yours too,” he smiled, taking a few steps closer to me.

“Y-you are?” I whispered softly, surprised.

“Of course! The first woman to win a Formula 1 race,” he nodded. “It's impressive.”

I looked at him, surprised. Is he really talking to me? Does he know who I am? Am I dreaming?

“You… you were having an anxiety attack, right?” he smiled weakly.

“I guess so,” I sighed. “Just… Many things happened lately.”

“Oh, I understand,” he nodded. “Let me guess. Something controversial that has everyone against you on social media so you read everything and let it get into your mind?”

“How…” I frowned. How does he know?

“Believe me, I went through the same some years ago,” he sighed. “The best decision is to delete those things from your phone and ignore them.”

“Yeah, well… I did some hours ago,” I mumbled, blushing. “But I installed them again. I don't know why.”

“You were spiraling,” he nodded. “I noticed it. I was giving the speech when you walked out. As soon as I finished, I talked to who I guess is your sister.”

“Erica,” I nodded.

He smiled and nodded, walking closer to me. He knelt in front of me and grabbed my phone from the floor, smiling weakly when he looked at the broken screen.

“I'm sorry, I surprised you,” he sighed.

“No… I think it's better that way,” I smiled, looking at him.

Am I in heaven after dying? Why is he talking to me? Is this some type of game? A dream? A nightmare? Now he will just say that he thinks I'm a fraud and that I don't deserve the seat.

Just what Charles said.

“Don’t believe what they say about you,” he said suddenly. “You know your version. It's their choice to believe you or not. You don't owe them anything. Don't let those words ruin a reputation you fought to build.”

I looked at him, surprised. He knows about the rumors?

“And by the way,” he smiled. “You look amazing with blonde hair. Everyone was talking about it, you are more famous than you think, Dafne.”

I took a deep breath and looked at him, somehow feeling the air getting into my lungs and making the anxiety go away.

There are people who don’t hate me. I’m more famous, he’s right.

This is how I picture the girls

taglist

@racinggirl @elisysd @alltoomaples @ssprayberrythings @rach3164 @yvonne-dump @deliciousfestsalad @janeh22 @hc-dutch @ninifee1802 @kakorrhaphiphobia @ssararuffoni @itsjustkhaos @scaramou @tapedeck-hearts @apollosfavkiddo @sltwins @glitterquadricorn @ladystardust05 @theseerbetweenus @vizzzashley @auawdo @leah-also-known-as-creatoronwp @leptitlu

[graciegoeskrazy]

jump then fall

Sebastian Stan x StepDaughter!Teen!reader

wc: shmall/776

summary: y/n comes home drunk but Sebastian is there to make sure she’s okay.

warnings: alcohol, step parents(???), one mention of teen pregnancy, lemme know what i missed plz.

a/n: hiiii wrote this last night. thought it was cute. this is unedited so sorry in advance. will i fix it? no prob not.

You got your friend to drive you back from the party. You made her turn the headlights off and drop you off a couple of houses down from your home. “Holy Shit!”

“”Language, young lady.”

“”What are you doing up?” You said, trying not to slur your words. It was no use though.

“Waiting for you.” Sebastian said, leaning against the door frame. He hadn’t married your mom yet but he moved in with you and your mom. Over time the relationship between you two grew very deep. It was evident he cared for you. Not growing up with a father figure, you weren’t sure how this was gonna go, but you were thankful for Sebastian being there whenever you needed him to be. He was more than willing to step up.

“You don’t have to do that.” Trying to act nonchalant.

“I just wanted to make sure you’re okay. Make sure you’re not drunk.”

“Well, no need to worry because I am nethier of those things.” You proceeded to give a weak thumbs up. Sebastian walked over to you after a second. Arms crossed. “How many drink did you have?”

You sighed and looked down, defeated in your drunken state. “like 5.”

“Y/n!”

“But, I was very responsible! We had a designated driver. We did nothing but talk at Sophie’s house. We even gave each other emergency contacts! I gave them your number just in case!” His heart secretly swelled.

“Please, whatever you do, please don’t tell mom?”

He sighed and paused for a bit. But finally released a simple “Ok.”

You were shocked. You didn’t think he would let you off this easily.

“What? Ok?”

“Listen, She’s gonna find out. You think she’s an idiot? And even then she’s not gonna be upset. She’s been in your shoes before. We both have! Your mom knows what it’s like to be a teenager and have fun. She got pregnant with you as a teen for Christ's sake!”

“I don’t intend on doing that.” You said slurring.

“That might get you in a little more trouble.”

You hid your head in your hands, both out of embarrassment and out of pain with your oncoming migraine.

“So you’re not mad?”

“No. Of course not. I just wanted to make sure you’re ok and not too drunk.”

“Well i’m ok and super drunk.” you said almost falling in his arms before he caught you.

“Ok we need to get you to bed.”

“But im not tiiiired!”

“Yes, you are.”

“Ok, I’m very tired.”

Sebastian led you to your room. You immediately flopped on your bed with a grunt. Sebastian chuckled to himself as he walked over to your closet to find some pjs for you to wear. He found a set and threw it on your bed. “Get changed into this, I'll be right back.” You just moaned and layed still for a good minute before getting a spruce of energy and sitting up to change. You took of your layers of jewelry and put them in your side table before you heard a knock. “Enter.” You said, as you flopped back down on your bed. Sebastian laughed as he sat down beside you. “Come here.” He grabbed your arm and pulled you up. You just grumbled which only made him smile more. He had a makeup wipe and proceeded to wipe away the dried mascara and and anything else that was left after the drunken night. Once he let go of your arm, you fell back down on the bed again. He smiled. “Goodnight, y/n.”

“WAIT!”

He turned around. Your eyes were half open as you managed to get yourself under the covers. “You have to tuck me in.” You said matter of factly. “Ah of course.” He returned to your bed and sat beside you, helping to move the covers up. You talked as he tucked you in.

“Sebastian?”

“Hm?”

“Am I gonna be hurt tomorrow?”

“Hurt? Well maybe, but it’s nothing time and some advil can’t help.”

“Sebastian?”

“Yes sweetie.”

“I’m never gonna drink again.”

“Oh really?”

“Yeah. Drinking is for disgusting people.”

“But I drink does that mean i’m disgusting?”

“Eh…you get a pass.”

“Thank you.”

He plugged in your phone, turned the light off, and gave you your final tucks.

“Sebastian?”

“Hm?”

“Can you stay?” You looked at him with longing eyes. He climbed into bed without another word. He turned on some random disney movie for background noise. After a while, your head fell on his chest and your breathing slowed. He kissed the top of your head.

“I love you baby.”

You snuggled deeper. “I love you too dad”

[tristanstanthonyisdabest]

My IT OC.

Tristan St. Anthony.

Age: 21.

Height: 1.66 M.

Gender: Male.

Relationships: None.... Maybe Garret when i was drunk.

Hobby: sniper/Drug dealer.

School role: badass

🏳️‍🌈is Gay 🏳️‍🌈

Nicknames(mostly by Garret): Gaylord, Fag, Faggot, Dumbass, Tris, Trisket, Trevor, Travis(Don't you f*cking dare.) and Stan.

Elite sniper in the order of St. George, a organisation who hunts dragons. Is partner with a annoying blonde traitor to the order, named Garret, full name is Garret Xavier Sebastian, looks like someone dyed his hair with mustard.

I'm new here in Derry

@henry-the-winner @marshbevvie @stan-the-bird-boy @notclickbaitpennywise @butchbowers19589 @trashmouth-richie-tozier @eddiekaspbrak-official @people-call-me-haystack @kenzyduchanne-offical @patrickhockstettersfrisbie @sonia-kaspbrak-official @hopelessgirrl

[homeofthelonelywriter]

Celebs - Masterlist

Tom Hiddleston:

Series:

🌺 Take the Stage: While once again sneaking out of the Palace, you meet an actor...let’s just say there is something between you two. (Royal! Reader)

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 | Part 10 | Part 11 | Part 12 | Part 13 | Part 14 | Part 15 | Part 16 | Part 17 | Part 18 | Part 19 | Part 20 | Part 21 | Part 22 | Part 23 | Part 24 | Part 25 | Part 26 | Part 27 | Part 28 | Part 29 | Part 30 | Part 31

Romeo to my Juliet: You are a student and a teacher at a college in Lodon, which is the same place a very handsome acting professor is employed. Discontinued for now.

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5

🌺 New Beginning:

(Part 1) | Part 2 | Part 3

Headcanons:

HC - Tom Hiddleston x clumsy!Reader

HC - Tom helps Reader deal with anxiety and stress

HC - Tom loves Reader’s boobs

Oneshots:

Forgotten Fears - The Reader had some bad experiences with her ex-boyfriend when he was drunk and is still traumatised by that. What happens when Tom forgets about that fear of hers?

Kinky Surprise - pure smut

Application - When you loose a bet, you are forced to send an application for Loki’s love interest. Who would have thought that they actually want to meet you?

Jealousy - Tom is insecure because of your age gap. What will happen when he sees you with one of your co-workers who is about your age?

Hidden - As an artist, you find a way to tell Tom that you’re pregnant

Bun in the oven - Pregnany reveal and a proposal. What could go wrong?

Drunken Start - After a night out with his buddies, Tom calls you, neither rembering you, nor how he got your number

Trick or Treat - Halloween Special

Best boyfriend in the world - You have trouble sleeping, so Tom decides to help you out

Dance with me - Reader and Tom slow-dance in Paris

Diary - Tom finds your diary while you’re moving and reads it

Drabbles:

Christmas Surprise - Christmas Drabble

Let it snow! - Christmas Drabble

Drabble #75

Drabble #3

Imagines:

Imagine while on vacation with your BFF you catch Tom Hiddleston during a photoshoot. Your BFF makes sure he remembers you.

Imagine tagging Tom Hiddleston in a meme and actually getting a reaction.

Benedict Cumberbatch:

Drabbles:

Drabble #69

Sebastian Stan:

Drabbles:

Drabble #46

Shawn Mendes:

Series:

🌺 Better that way: When Shawn’s girlfriend finds out that she is pregnant, she decides that she can’t burden the superstar with a child. She makes decisions which may seem stupid, but she knows that it’s Better that way.

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9

🌺 Surprise: Walking a Victorias Secret show was an honour already, but being able to see your boyfriend while doing so? Pure bliss. Especially when he has a little surprise for you.

Part 1 | Part 2

🌺 Fan Mail: Writing to Shawn every so often paid off when he asked you to come to one of his shows.

Part 1 | Part 2

Oneshots:

When you’re ready - Inspired by his song

Guard my heart - You are a part of the security at one of Shawn’s shows and he notices you

Nervous - Inspired by his song

One more chance - Filming an explanation video why Shawn and you broke up, leads to some interesting realisations

In my Blood - Inspired by his song (Triggers)

Late Late Show - You are present during your boyfriend’s appearance on the Late Late Show with James Cordan. Let’s just say it was disgusting.

Sad song - Shawn finds out you can sing during a very sad occasion

Tom Holland:

Migraine - rl!friend has a Migraine and Tom wants and tries to comfort her

Back to the Master-Masterlist

[fandomfluffandfuck]

"I Can Do This All Day" by fandomfluffandfuck

Rating: Explicit

Relationship: Chris Evans/Sebastian Stan

Tags: Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Drunken Shenanigans, Drunk Almost-sex, Teasing, Dirty Talk, Marathon Sex, Multiple Orgasms, Multiple Sex Positions, Anal Sex, Oral Sex, Oral Fixation, Dom/sub Undertones, Dom Chris Evans, Sub Sebastian Stan, Manhandling, Hand & Finger Kink, Accent Kink, Making Out, Light Masochism, Light Sadism, Hand Jobs, Language Kink, Subspace, Orgasm Control, Sexual Frustration, Somnophilia, Blow Jobs, Praise Kink, Rimming, Grinding, Dry Humping, Top Chris Evans, Bottom Sebastian Stan, Hair-pulling, Heavy Petting, Anal Fingering, Shower Sex, Couch Sex, Regular Bed Sex Too Lmao, Dacryphilia, Porn Watching, Meantions of Harder Kinks (bondage/sex toys/etc.), Begging, Coming Untouched, Cock Warming, Passing Out From Sex, Consensually, Just… All The Filth, As Usual

Language: English

Words: 28,934

Summary:

What happens when all the shit Chris and Sebastian have said as characters (namely Steve Rogers and his daring, "I can do this all day") and as themselves during press tours (re: Sebastian on EuropaFM with Andreea Esca talking about sex, "at every hour, if it's possible") compound with alcohol?

An all-day sex marathon. Duh.

[siennafrxst]

↳ a drunken night 𖤐𓈒࣪₊˚

(part 2; version 2)

if you haven’t read chapter 1, click here.

if you haven’t read the other version of chapter 2, click here.

word count: 0.7k words

Knock. Knock. Knock.

As Y/N was drying her hair with a towel, she turns to the sudden disturbance coming from behind the door.

“Come in,” she announces loudly for the other person to be able to hear.

The door immediately swings open, revealing the person hiding behind it.

“Seb, hey,�� Y/N greeted, a hint of slight surpise in her tone.

It seemed as though he had just gotten out of bed and put on a quick attire, due to his messy brown curls and groggy features. Goddamnit, why did he have to look so cute like this?

“Hey,” he greeted back, closing the door behind him.

Snapping herself out of her absurd thoughts before being managed to get caught for staring, she connects her eyes with his. The two shared an intimate moment of staring, both seeming to be hesitating to say the same desired words.

Do you remember last night?

“Uhm, how’s your hangover? Are you feeling okay?” she quickly asked to fill in the awkward silence.

Sebastian sighs heavily in exhaust. “S’okay. I mean, better than it was when I woke up, at least.”

She nodded in agreement, offering a soft smile at the man.

Sebastian brought a hand behind his neck before speaking up once more. “Uhm, about last night…”

Y/N gulped nervously as she heard those words. What if he still remembered..?

“Thank you for taking care of me, I’m sure that I was a load to deal with.”

She chuckled in an attempt to hide her sigh of relief. “Of course. I’m here for you, Seb.”

He returned a sheepish smile at his best friend as a sign of gratitude.

And then it was silent yet again. The atmosphere was filled with hope for something more to happen and fear of losing something they already have. Both were just wishing that the hope was more dominant than the fear. Yet neither of them spoke up. This went on for a few more precious seconds before Sebastian made a move. But not what you would expect.

“Well, I just wanted to check up on you. Thanks again, Y/N.”

Her heart dropped in absolute disappointment. She didn’t know that she would feel this much pain upon never talking about last night. It was more than just curiosity, it was also regret but... why? And that was when it hit her.

She loves him.

"Seb, wait! Wait."

Upon hearing her call for him, Sebastian turns around to spot Y/N’s agitated expressions.

"Yeah?" he questioned, despite knowing what she was about to say. They both knew what was bound to happen.

"I... do you remember what you said last night?" she breathed softly, almost cracking her voice.

Sebastian opened his mouth to respond, but nothing came out. He closed it again and paused for a while before giving in to the temptation. "I do," he replies gently.

Those words might have hurt more than what she felt just a few seconds ago. "Then why didn't you say anything?"

Sebastian scoffed. "You hesitated too."

"But at least I spoke up, it's not as easy as you-" She pauses for a moment to recollect herself, preventing from lashing out. "Look, I just needed to know if that was the drunk you talking or if that was... you know, you."

Seeming to hesitate, he sharply inhales before his eyes trailed towards Y/N’s e/c ones. Time seemed to have stopped, but in reality, this moment of eye contact only lasted for mere seconds. But for them, it was as though everything surrounding them seemed to have faded into view, blurring itself out of the picture. Their gazes were fixated on one another, not letting go of this dangerously precious moment.

Y/N has never felt this way for her best friend—it had conflicted her inner thoughts more than she’d like to admit. But in that singular moment, all of her worries and doubts seemed to have washed away from her mind so easily. It was all she needed to confirm the question that had been plaguing her thoughts like a disease.

Was this love?

But now, all she could do was await his response, her mind dreading the possible outcomes of this seemingly forever lasting moment.

Then finally, Sebastian spoke.

…

“It was me. I said those things. And I meant it.”

[cevans-is-classic]

18+ only, please. Language, sexual themes, beefy Bucky

Masterlist

Sebastian Stan

@sergeantbarnessdoll (sorry it's short, dear, but I hope you enjoy it!)

He texted hours ago hoping you’d be home when he got in. All he could think about was curling up on your couch, cuddling down with some movies and some snacks before taking a very extended nap. Maybe some other fun stuff, too. 

Nap first though, he needed some sleep, possibly food before that happened. 

He smiles when your car comes into view, his driver dropping him off beside it. Every step closer makes his stomach warm with being home, being with you. 

“Hey baby,” He calls out when he swings the door open, “I’m putting my stuff in the bedroom real quick.” The TV is on, the mumble of voices growing faint as he drops his suitcase off. He hears you laugh, a sharp bark, and he grins before slipping into a pair of sweats and making his way toward the living room. 

He hears the music first and pauses in the doorway — it takes a moment to recognize what you’re watching. When the scene shifts and he sees RDJ he laughs — startling you. 

“Dude,” You look back at him, “Oh, Hello.” 

Seb wiggles his fingers. “Hello to you as well.” 

You flush, fidgeting, “Welcome home.” 

He moves through the living room, sitting on the couch behind you. You shimmy until you’re between his legs and he can drop a kiss on your head, “Mind if I ask why you’re watching Civil War?” 

“Yara and I played a drinking game last night for how many times Steve and Tony say each other’s names. We started with Avengers Assemble but made our way to the movies. I got kind of hooked again and had to keep watching them.” Your eyes never stray from the movie, even as your hand reaches back to grab his.

“Right here.” You point at the screen, “They forgot to put your arm on, or CGI it, whatever, but you can see your real arm and lemme tell you -” You lean forward, “Beefy Bucky is the best.” 

“Beefy Bucky?” He squeezes your hand. 

“Yes.” 

Sebastian watches the screen, eyes following Iron Man as he fights against the Winter Soldier. He remembers the choreography of this scene, how many takes it took, and when he’d switched out with his stunt double. 

He follows Chris chasing after him and watches Bucky try to fly the helicopter away.

“Yeah, I got beefy for this movie,” He pauses. “I felt like I had to size up to the others, which thinking about it now, makes no sense. The only one who I was up against, in my mind, was Chris.” 

“Cap is an asshole.” He knows you have a little frown. “Poor Bucky, though.” 

He laughs, “Yeah poor Bucky.” Both of you keep watching the movie playing on and he has to admit it’s been a while since he’s seen it. Everyone did an amazing job and watching Chadwick- it squeezes his heart. 

“Oh! Oh!” You jump forward, “You missed it, ugh. The fucking motorcycle scene. Baby, babe, he literally throws someone off the bike, but my god it’s gorgeous. Bucky is gorgeous.” 

“First off,” He pokes your shoulder, “That’s my stunt double you’re calling gorgeous. Second, you know I play Bucky, right? Me? The man who is currently sitting behind you?” 

“Yes,” You look back at him, “and you’re hot while doing it.” 

He grins at you, raising a brow when you turn around to face him, “You know, when I first saw this movie I was super drunk and told my partner at the time I was going to suck your soul through your dick.” 

Seb jerks a moment, his stomach tightening. “Yeah?”

“Never fucking thought I’d get the chance though, one in a million shot, right?” He didn’t notice you pausing the movie until the music stopped. 

Your hands trail up his legs as you rise to your feet. “You said you read some comics, right?” 

He grabs your hips, sliding his hands up your back as you settle in his lap, “Some. Why?”  

Your fingers trace the collar of his shirt. “You’re too tall.” 

Seb blinks, “What?” 

“Bucky is only five foot nine in the comics, I think? I’ll have to check.” Seb shakes his head, your fingers touching the edge of his jaw. “I think you make a great Bucky, though. Really brings him to life.” 

He squeezes your waist, digging his fingers in until you squirm in his lap. “You’re welcome.” 

That earns him a wicked smile, your tongue coming out to wet your lips. He follows the path, thinking about the feels of your lips against his and how warm your mouth would be around him. He leans forward to kiss your chin, then your cheek, over to your lips.  

You pause for a breath, “On a scale of one to ten how cool are you with me shouting Bucky while you fuck me?” 

Seb hums, brushing his lips over yours. “Let’s find out.”

[grntaire]

hey man are you doing okay mentally/spiritually/emotionally

the scream that just left my body i have never been better and never been worse. i contain multitudes and want to commit suicide in front of kevin feige to alter the course of his life forever. cannot stress enough how fun it is as an adult to get wine drunk and watch media that infected you as a teenager only to realize that said media really does stand the test of time. i am soaring on a wave of self actualization while also riding the wave of anger at the bastardization of character development that happened to thee steve rogers. but the winter solider really is a perfect movie front to back i love gay people and sebastian stan’s sad faggy eastern european eyes