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anobscurename · 3 years

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ocean eyes – chris evans

previous part: PART XIII — masterlist

concept: a celebratory trip to the hamptons results in an altercation the first night you're there. the slowest of slow burns. part fourteen of many.

pairing: chris evans x reader // chris evans x respect women juice

word count: 2,8k

warnings: tw:sexual harrassment (drunken creeps are creepy), homophobic slurs (they're also assholes), angst

author's note: this one goes out to @fangirlovestuff as promised :) the next part will be coming shortly! we on some double upload weirdness, to make up for my disappearance basically the whole of yesterday

"Um, no... Really, I couldn't."

Lily pouted. Even when she pouted, she was beautiful. "Why not?"

"I don't want to intrude, really, you guys go and have fun. It's the Hamptons after all."

"But everyone's coming! Please?"

"I don't know..."

"For Chris? Would you do it for Chris?"

You cast a tentative glance to the man in question, currently in the midst of a tug-of-war with Dodger, barely paying your conversation any attention. If only they knew you'd do anything for Chris. "He is the worst bargaining chip you could've ever even thought of using."

"How about for me?" She jokingly batted her long, long lashes, an enchanting smile gracing her lips. "I won't take no for an answer, and Sebastian will be there."

"Sebastian?" You rolled your eyes at the suggestive arch of her brows. They were under the impression you and Sebastian were involved, somehow. You picked subconsciously at the scars on the palm of your hand, entirely healed and almost faded into nothing now.

"It would mean so much to us. You're such a big part of Chris' life, one of his best friends, and–"

"Alright!" You snapped. Quickly masking your irritation with a laugh, you repeated yourself, softer this time. "Alright, I'll come."

She clapped happily, giving no indication of having been taken aback or even mildly offended at you having practically yelled at her. Guilt pitted yourself in your stomach. You wanted to dislike her, but not only was she exceptionally beautiful, she was also incredibly nice. Beyond nice. Serial killers weren't even that nice. And it wasn't her fault that she was basically Jesus trapped in the body of a supermodel, and it wasn't her fault for Chris loving her – because honestly, it wasn't hard loving her – it was just that it was so fucking difficult at times when people kept calling you his friend. Chris' friend.

It would be so much easier to hate someone deserving of it, but you just couldn't. Because both of them were so beautiful and... nice.

Perfectly matched in every way you and Chris were not.

So you decided to go to the Hamptons beach house because why not?

What's the worse that could happen?

———————

This was the worse that could happen.

You had arrived at beach house Anthony had rented a little later that day, when the sun was making it's slow decent to kiss the horizon.

And the frenzy to all get ready to go out was nothing short of chaotic.

You were tired from the plane, and irritated from having been sat – with little to no form of escape – in the same row as Chris and Lily. It wasn't necessarily a long flight, but a second felt like hours when you put yourself through that kind of agony.

But you'd made up your mind after the gala to get over this little crush on Chris. Nothing good was going to come of it, and you tried to spare yourself further heartache and broken glass.

Easier said than done.

Anthony and Sebastian did not mirror your mood. On the contrary, they were still riding the high of finally wrapping the filming on Falcon and The Winter Soldier, and this was their celebration weekend. And they were going all out for it.

The house was lavish, no expense spared. And when you'd arrived, Anthony had opened his suitcase right in the kitchen, and began stocking the fridge with the champagne he'd packed in there, cushioned by his clothes.

You had briefly wondered why he had brought such a large suitcase for such a short trip, but as you watched the fifth bottle disappear into the icebox, your questions were answered.

"Why the long face?"

Anthony didn't even have to look at you to know you were standing there, bags having been dropped off in your room before joining him.

"Do I really have to come out tonight?" You whined. You hated how bratty you sounded, but you would much rather stay in the house alone for the night than go out with Chrily. You knew Sebastian and Anthony would be there too – Scarlett was also supposed to come, but she had other duties to attend to, being a mother – but you knew no matter how great they were at making you feel better, you would spend most of the night moody and brooding. And you didn't want to ruin their night with your personal issues.

You were being selfless for selfish reasons.

"Is that even a question?" Anthony was mid-stock with the final bottle of champagne when he looked at you. The inside of the fridge looked like a Mo��t & Chandon ad, with Anthony Mackie as the ambassador. "You're coming out if it kills me."

"But why?" You groaned.

"Because everything is more fun with you there, and besides... It wouldn't feel like a celebration without our best girl."

"Fine. I'll come," you rolled your eyes, turning to head out. "Need to shower first."

And then you heard the champagne bottle shake, the cork popping and suddenly, you were drenched in a spray of Moët. Over the sound of frothing bubbles, Anthony called out to you. "No need!"

And that was why – despite scrubbing your skin almost raw and lathering your hair to the point of chemical burn – you sat there, on the barstool, smelling faintly like expensive alcohol.

"I hate you," you muttered under your breath to Anthony as you and him had taken it upon yourselves to get the next round of drinks for the table.

He chuckled, struggling to grab a bartender's attention. "No, you don't."

"You're right, I don't. I'll always love you. But that doesn't mean I have to like you right now."

"Love me, huh?" Anthony arched a brow. "Now, was that so hard to say?"

"What?"

"It's not me you should be saying that to. You know that."

You knew what he meant, and a heavy sigh vacated your lungs. "You know it's not the same. You're family. With him... It's different."

"I think this is the first time you've ever admitted it out loud."

And it dawned on you that he was right. You had never let yourself properly admit it, even inwardly. The words had maybe flowed from the tip of your pen onto the pale pages of your journal – the only catharsis you found lately – but you never read those entries back, abandoning them to be lost in a sea of random thoughts, forgotten.

It didn't give you a sense of relief, saying the words. Not even slightly. If anything, they filled you up with dread.

"Don't," you rolled your eyes. "I'm over it. Or at least I'm getting there."

"Hey," he shrugged in placation. "Relax. It's not my confession to make."

Being an ex-cocktail waitress had its perks as you made your way back to the table, slipping easily past people with the tray of shots you had retrieved. You were speedy and efficient, even in your heels.

Anthony, on the other hand...

Beer bottles slotted between each finger, he was having much more difficulty getting by. And once you'd set the shots down at the table, not a drop spilled, Anthony's shirt was spattered with beer, hands slick with it.

As you plopped into the seat beside Sebastian, making him shift over in the booth to make more room for Anthony, he gave you a strained smile.

"I don't know how the fuck you put up with them," Seb whispered to you. "They're so lovey-dovey, it's unbearable."

"Just grin and bear it," you whispered back.

"What are you two giggling about over there?" Chris grinned from across the booth. It wasn't a very convincing grin, but you didn't dwell on it. No more allowing Christopher Robert Evans to occupy your mind.

"Just how Mackie would make a terrible waiter," you shrugged, sending the man in question a quick cheeky smirk.

"Oh, haha, very funny," he flicked some beer at you from his soaked fingertips. "I'd make a fabulous waitress and you know that."

You shied away from the alcohol droplets, laughing. "No! Not again!"

Chris took in his appearance. "Jesus, Ant. Is there even any beer left for us? Or are you wearing it all?"

"Wow, you're all hilarious," he rolled his eyes, finally dropping into the booth. "I didn't know I was out with a bunch of comedians tonight. Did I walk onto a sitcom set? Is this a sketch? Whose turn is it next? Seb? Lily?"

You all took turns making jokes and taking jibes at Anthony's lacklustre bottle service, which was only put to rest once the Falcon actor huffed and proclaimed that "you could all go get your own damned drinks."

As the night wore on, you found yourself gravitating towards the dancefloor. Honestly, you just couldn't be in the booth anymore. You knew getting over him was going to be a slow process, but some part of you had hoped that it would be an immediate and simple thing: just falling out of your pathetic little crush.

But it really wasn't, and so you were on the dancefloor. Regrettably alone. Chris and Lily were still in the booth, and the other couple – Anthony and Seb – were absolutely enthralled by a vintage pinball machine lurking in the back of the bar.

Every now and then, you would hear one whoop for joy as they beat the other's high score, only for the competitive nature of their activity to take over for another redemption round.

As you lost yourself in the music, it wasn't long before you attracted the attention of a drunken creep. You didn't use that term lightly, but this one was truly deserving.

You had felt eyes on you, and immediately found who they belonged to. Just to be polite, you had smiled at him, before continuing your dancing.

And then, taking it as an invitation, he sidled up to you, and clammy hands slithered over your waist, pulling your back to him with a strong, commanding grip. Your stomach lurched, uncomfortable with the fast rising intensity of the situation.

"You look so fuckin' good tonight, baby," he slurred into your ear, swaying on his feet. Alcohol was thick on his breath, and it filled your head with nausea. "Just wanna take you home and fuck you better than anyone ever has..."

You turned around to tell him to fuck off, and that was when that strong slithering grip was in your hair, tugging you to slimy liquored lips in a teeth clashing kiss. Your stomach roiled at the taste, and while he was distracted, you shoved him away from you with as much strength as he could muster.

He stumbled back a few steps, but he had returned to his senses long enough to right himself and soon he was stalking towards you again.

You knew his type. If his clothes and accessories were any indication, he was an arrogant rich kid – the tan telling you he was a Hamptons regular. He was your age, and every bit as entitled as his wealth would suggest.

"Get away from me." It wasn't a request, it was a command.

And he didn't like it. His hand wrapped around your wrist, tugging you to him. You struggled against him, desperately clawing for your freedom. Panic was slowly rising.

"You little bitch," he spat.

"Is there a problem here?"

It was Chris. He had seen the unravelling altercation from the booth, and had promptly come to your aid.

You wondered how long he'd been there for, what he'd overheard. His next words gave you your answer.

"I think the lady said to leave her alone."

The guy didn't even look at him, instead keeping his slabbering gaze on you. "Stay out of this."

Chris wasn't having it. Having eyed up the situation – that whiteknuckled grip on you – Chris clapped a strong – if not a little threatening – hand on the stranger's shoulder. He ripped the guy off of you, and with his other hand, he pulled you behind him protectively.

Your relief, however, was shortlived at the bite of Chris' next suggestion. "Look, buddy, maybe you should take a hint."

"Don't touch me, faggot," he slapped Chris' arm away. "I took the hint. She looked at me, she smiled at me. Look at what she's wearing! She's practically begging to be fucked."

That was the last straw for Chris.

Not only had he made the unforgivable transgression of groping you – and not just you, specifically, but any woman – but this man had crossed the line with the homophobic slur. To do that in front of Chris, being who he was, was tantamount to a death sentence.

And you could feel it as he seethed, fury boiling in his blood.

"You're lookin' at me, now. I'm smilin'." And he was, but it wasn't one you'd ever seen before. It was tight, and it was malicious. "Oh, look at what you're wearin'. Gets me a bit hard, if I'm being honest. Do you like that? Do you like me telling you how hard I'm gonna fuck you with this big cock? No? Then keep your fuckin' hands to yourself and well away from her before I break them."

You knew Chris well enough to know the threat was empty. He was a pacifist – regularly attending lessons in Buddhist teachings when he could. But the other guy didn't know that, and the throb of the muscle in the grit of Chris' jaw was very convincing. So convincing, in fact, you were even a little scared of him in that moment.

The guy tilted his head to address you, trying to make himself seem bigger. "Who even is this joker, your boyfriend?"

"Don't speak to her," Chris snarled. "You're speaking to me now. And as a matter of fact, I am. So fuck off."

What the guy did next shouldn't have been surprising. He was clearly not thinking straight. And if he hadn't done it, Chris effectively calling you his girlfriend might've had more of an impact.

But he took a swing at Chris – and although Chris never started fights, he sure as fuck ended them.

Easily blocking the attack, and in three quick movements, Chris had the other guy's arms locked behind his back. You knew, if he wanted, Chris could pop both of this guy's arms out of their sockets. And if Chris was anyone else, he might have. He was angry enough to do it.

"Let it go," came his scathing whisper.

Of course the other guy struggled. He struggled and yelled out curses, slurs, anything his alcohol addled mind could come up with.

It was enough to draw the attention of the owner of the establishment.

"Oi," she yelled. A severe no-shit type woman had come out of the back room to brace her arms against the bar, fixing you all with a withering look. "The three of you. Out."

The commotion had also been enough to draw the attention of the others, and you were on your way out – still protectively clutched to Chris' side by his musclebound arm – when they'd made it to you.

"What happened?" Seb panted.

"Just some asshole picking a fight," Chris explained, rage still colouring his voice. "Could you guys do me a favour?"

"Sure, man," Anthony said. "Whatever you need."

"I'm going to take {your name} back. Could you tell Lily when she gets out of the bathroom that we got kicked out and I'll be waiting for her at home?"

"If you just wait for her, we can all go home together," Seb suggested, already backing up a little to get his jacket from the booth.

Chris shook his head. "I need time to cool off. I don't want her seeing me like this."

"I'm really sorry for ruining your night, guys," you said, your voice small.

They were quick to assure you you hadn't. It didn't lessen the guilt, though.

"You guys enjoy," Chris said as you both hovered by the door. "We'll make up for tonight at the beach tomorrow."

———————

"I can fight my own battles."

It was the first words either of you had spoken since you'd gotten back to the house. The drive was done in deafening silence, and you felt compelled to finally break it.

"I know you can," Chris sighed. He hadn't been expecting a thanks, but he'd at least been expecting something more than that admonishment. "Better than anyone. But you shouldn't have to."

"I had it handled."

"My point is, you shouldn't have to handle this shit. No one should."

He had come with you all the way to your bedroom door, and you both stood, divided by the frame.

His brow was furrowed, thinking. And then: "Are you angry with me?"

"No," you smiled sadly.

The double meaning laced with your next words would serve to haunt both of you the remainder of the night.

"I just want you to know that you don't have to fight for me. I'm fine on my own."

#dina writes #chris evans/you #chris evans fanfic #chris evans x you #chris evans #chris evans x reader #chris evans angst #ocean eyes #anthony mackie #sebastian stan

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ordinaryschmuck · 3 years

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What I Thought About The Falcon and the Winter Soldier

Salutations to you, random people on the internet who most likely won't read this. I am an Ordinary Schmuck. I write stories and reviews and draw comics and cartoons!

Gonna be honest, I didn't think The Falcon and the Winter Soldier needed to be a full-length TV series. I mean, if Spider-Man can discover that he didn't have to replace Iron Man in a two-hour and nine-minute long movie, then the Falcon can learn he can't replace Steve Rogers in the same amount of time, right? I was excited, don't get me wrong, but I didn't know how they can fit a plot for a movie into a six-hour-long series. Unlike WandaVision, which needed to be a TV show to get those TV homages right for each episode, The Falcon and the Winter Soldier didn’t sound like something that would honestly work better as a film. But, once it started airing, and my excitement increased each week, I can positively say that it would not have worked as successfully if it wasn't a TV series.

Unfortunately, I'll have to get into spoilers to explain why, but trust me when I say that if you haven't checked it out yet, you definitely should. Because I'm about to dive in (or fly in) as I explain why The Falcon and the Winter Soldier is easily in the top tier MCU projects.

WHAT I LIKE

Sam Wilson: If WandaVision was about developing Wanda, then The Falcon and the Winter Soldier is about developing Sam. He might share the spotlight with Bucky, but this is so clearly Sam's story. It's his journey of becoming the new Captain America that gets more of a focus, and it is one of the best aspects of the series. And as I said, it's similar to Spider-Man's journey in Spider-Man: Far From Home. Sure, this time, it's more about stepping up to the mantle, but both Sam and Peter have to learn how to be their own hero rather than replace the one left behind. In Sam's case, it's more than just being the new Captain America, but also being the black Captain America. I'll talk more about the implications of that later, but for now, all I'll say is that it was so engaging seeing Sam accept his role. Plus, even though Sam tries to carry Steve's title, that doesn't mean he's Steve Rogers 2.0. He has his own ardor and personality as Captain America, on top of still representing the aspects of what that title entails. Partial credit for that goes to Anthony Mackie, who does a phenomenal job of portraying a man who's inspirational and charming in all forms of hell. I'd salute him as much as I'd want to have a beer with him...except not really because I refuse to touch a single drop of alcohol. But Sam Wilson would make me consider it! Because he's that good of a character.

Bucky Barnes: Much like Vision in WandaVision, Bucky takes the sidelines as Sam acts as the main face of the series. Unlike Vision, however, Bucky's story seems more like its own thing rather than something that's connected with his co-star. In a way, it's better, but it also seems worse. Because without having it be locked with Sam's story, Bucky's is still compelling as it develops him further in his own way. His journey may not be as engaging as Sam's, but it's still entertaining enough to watch his own narrative get continued in small spurts. Although, the fact that Bucky's story has little to do with Sam's does have the unfortunate side-effect that he doesn't need to be there. His inclusion is very much welcomed, but I feel like Bucky dealing with his own guilt and trauma as the Winter Soldier could be something that can fill up its own series rather than half of one. That being said, Bucky absolutely needs to be in this show. The emotional turmoil that Sabastian Stan portrays so well hits hard, and his dry humor works for some comedic highlights. Bucky's half of the story might be unnecessary for plot reasons, but it is unquestionably necessary for enjoyment.

There’s a lot of talking: This seems like a misstep, especially since most superhero shows are bogged down by characters talking to pad out the run time. Although, the dialogue in The Falcon and the Winter Soldier is more like the dialogue in the series Daredevil. There are more words than action, but nearly every line is so incredibly engaging that I do not care. Sam and his sister talking to a banker about getting a loan might not sound as entertaining as Sam being in an air chase against terrorists, but I surprisingly held onto every word being said due to how well-acted it was. Plus, these discussions help make these characters more human on top of making the world feel believable. I understand the argument of show don't tell, but to me, as long as the dialogue is written well enough and said convincingly, I can learn to live with it.

The Flag Smashers: The concept of the Flag Smashers intrigues me. The idea that a group of people believes things were actually better when half the world got turned to dust is a perfect concept for the MCU to explore. In fact, this is the third story in a row that dives deep into the consequences of what happened post-Infinity War and Endgame, and I'm all for it! The universe is forever changed by this one big event, and it's not going to be irrelevant anytime soon. For the Flag Smashers, they offer the most striking glimpse of how the world is forever changed. Now, I'll admit, after seeing doom and gloom in Avengers: Endgame, it would be better to see the benefits of the Blip that characters claim to have existed rather than told about them. But seeing how there were dozens of fans who made the audacious claim that Thanos was right, I don't consider it too far of a stretch to believe that the Flag Smashers could exist. Especially since the arguments that characters present do seem persuasive enough. It's only the actions that the group makes that derail any sense of the discussion. But in a good way...for the most part. But I’ll get into that later too.

The Reveal of the new “Captain America”: This was the dirtiest, sickening punch in the gut that the first episode could have ended on...and I love it!

John Walker: I often find the best antagonists are the ones I'm willing to psychologically analyze. That's John Walker in a nutshell. He is an arrogant ass who deserved to get slapped around when taking things too far. Yet, I always find myself coming back to those scenes where he seems conflicted about becoming the new Captain America. I get a sense that he genuinely wants to do the right thing and those moments when he asks if he is all but confirms it. John's problem is the constant support he's given by his friends. I'd argue that building his ego is the very reason why he gets frustrated so quickly by people denying him, as he often reacts like a toddler who throws a tantrum when a parent makes the "mistake" of saying “no.” This is why it's satisfying seeing people more powerful than John kick the s**t out of him because it results in his ego going through a well-needed deflation. Still, the constant frustrations he has for not being respected as the new Captain America makes his further descent into insanity all the more appealing to watch. Because him taking the super-soldier serum proves Dr. Erskine's theory is true: "Good becomes great. Bad becomes worse."

...And this is why the writers dropped the ball when trying to make John Walker redeemable. It's exceptional if that was the intention. After all, I did say there were glimpses of a man who wanted to become great, not worse. However, given what John does in later episodes, we're going to need more than glimpses to believe his switch from bad to good. Especially since his decision to set his anger aside to suddenly help people is a little too unbelievable for my tastes given how fast it happens. It's not an awful decision. It's just one that needed a bit more polish. I still find John Walker an incredible character regardless, but I don't blame people for being a tad more hesitant given how poorly paced his redemption arc came across as.

Readapting “Star-Spangled Man”: I adore this for two reasons.

Reason #1: It's a solid callback to Captain America: The First Avenger, which I will always stand by as my favorite Captain America movie.

Reason #2: It proves how much John Walker doesn't understand what it means to be Captain America. When Steve did this song and dance routine in his movie, he hated it. Better yet, Steve despised it. Because he wasn't helping anybody. He was just being a dancing monkey to appeal to civilians, and you see how much he regrets doing it with each show. For John, he relishes the whole thing, because of course, he would! John loves having his ego appealed to, and this routine is doing nothing but inflates it. It's a solid case of visual storytelling to prove to the audience just how disconnected John is from being Captain America. Steve or Sam wouldn't have done this, because being a hero is more than respect and adoration. It's about actually doing the right thing. A lesson that John desperately needs to learn.

Sam’s and Bucky’s bromance: You remember how I said that Bucky's dry sense of humor can be a comedic highlight? Well, that's only second rate to the times he and Sam bicker like an old married couple. Whether it's because of the writing, directing, or Makie’s and Stan's natural chemistry, seeing Sam and Bucky interact with each other is always a blast to see. And on top of being funny, there are these well-handled moments of drama shared between both characters that make their relationship convincing. It's why you can't have this series without Bucky, despite it so clearly being Sam's story that gets the more focus. Because without either character, we would miss out on some entertaining interactions that I wouldn't trade for anything else for this series.

Isaiah Bradely: Well, this character was a pleasant surprise. Although, "pleasant" might not be the right word because every scene with Isaiah is absolutely gut-wrenching in all the right ways. Carl Lumbly gives a phenomenal performance for a character that has been beaten down, with very little hope he has for any change that matters for his race. Plus, his backstory may not be as unbelievable as you might think. Between 1932-1972, America performed what is known as the Tuskegee Experiment. Scientists tested the effects of syphilis by injecting it into African Americans, telling them that they were receiving free health care when they didn't. So the idea that scientists tested super-soldier serums on African Americans, not knowing the dangerous effects, is not that far of a stretch. Neither is the knowledge that a black man was disrespected despite fighting hard for his country. If you researched African American history, you'll find that this type of horse s**t happens way more times than it should. It is heartbreaking, and Isaiah Bradley represents all of it. Thus making the little Isaiah exhibit in the Captain America museum all the more tear jerking just because of how sweet it is to see him get some semblance of a win. This level of discussion of what it means to be an African American is something I never expected with The Falcon and the Winter Soldier, but I greatly appreciate it nonetheless. What's even better is that these discussions don't end with Isaiah.

The discussions of racism: Again, this was something I didn't expect, but grateful for it nonetheless. I mean, I should have expected it given that one of the co-stars is black, but given how the story was about Sam being the new Captain America, I didn't think discussion of racism and racial injustice would come into play. Turns out that I was naive to think those things are separate. The burden of being a black Captain America is something that not many white people, including myself, consider a big deal. But looking at America's past and how others react to any African American in power, you realize that, yes, it is a big deal. Isaiah, and several real-life POCs in history, prove that America doesn't respond well to a person of color being better than the average white man. So it is easily reasonable to believe that there would be issues with a black man becoming a symbol of what America should be. Hell, I'm willing to bet that there were issues when this happened in the comics way back when. Not because of some bulls**t about how it doesn't fit with the character or story, but solely because they can't handle a black Captain America. And if you don't believe something like this wouldn't happen to someone like Sam Wilson, look back to that scene with the police who didn't know he was the Falcon. This crap happens every day, and it's The Falcon and the Winter Soldier that shines a light on it. Despite being something I didn't expect, the talks of racism are very much appreciated. And I'm as pale white as an introverted vampire. I can't even begin to comprehend how the African American community must feel about all of this.

Zemo: Who the f**k expected this guy to be one of the best things in the series?!

Seriously, from Captain America: Civil War, I wasn't too into Zemo as a character. I loved the idea that this powerless guy tore apart the world's greatest superheroes through intelligence and coercion. But his needlessly complicated plan and stale personality weren't enough to win me over. So when he returned, I expected to dread every minute of it. Little did I know that Zemo's comeback would skyrocket him into top-tier MCU villain territory!

Zemo is a character that, despite "helping" our heroes, still works on his own agenda. He might put them on the right path and occasionally assist in a fight, but only because he still won't stop at anything to make sure fewer super powered individuals are in the world. Because that's the thing about Zemo: His motivation was fine and understandable to a point, but his personality was flawed in Civil War. Here, I finally see how Zemo can work. Despite having no power, he uses his mind to look for any angle to control the situation, gaining an advantage even if it is for a short time. For instance, while he can't harm Sam or Bucky without risking his own life or jeopardizing his temporary freedom, he can still annoy the hell out of them. Like when he forced Sam into a situation where he had to drink literal snake juice. It's actually a ton of fun to watch, and I'm honestly glad that Zemo gets to live to see tomorrow. It means that he might make another return, and I can't wait to see what's in store for him in the future. Which is something I didn't think I'd say five years ago.

The Dora Milaje: It was actually pretty cool seeing these characters make an appearance, notably when they slapped around John Walker like it was nothing. Although, a part of me wonders that if Chadwick Boseman hadn't died last year, we would get to see T'Challa himself make an appearance. This lines up with the character, as I can see him dropping everything to hunt down the man who killed his father. Which would be just as awesome, if not slightly more so, to see. Still, we work with what life gives us. And what it gave are awesome cameos that make the MCU feel more inclusive about its characters rather than limiting them to their specific sections in the universe.

Walker killing the Flag Smasher: There is something so wrong with seeing that shield stained with blood. 'Cause here's the thing: Captain American can kill. He's a soldier. It's expected for a soldier to take lives for the sake of justice. What John Walker did isn't justice. It was vengeance. Vengeance that is fueled by anger rather than the need to do the right thing. Because when Captain America leads an army to kill the man who whipped out half the universe, that's fighting for a just cause. But when “Captain America” kills a man, the wrong man, for killing his best friend, that is an act of selfishness that no one would see your side on. And it was the final nail in the coffin that proves how John Walker does not deserve that shield.

Sam and Bucky vs. John: This might just be the best fight in the entire series. Not only is it so satisfying to see John Walker get everything that he deserves, but the whole thing was pretty intense to watch. After seeing what John can do with that shield, it makes moments when Sam and Bucky barely dodge his attacks with it all the more blood-rushing to see. Plus, Civil War's motif playing the background is another solid callback that fits well narratively since this is technically two superheroes fighting another superhero. It's an incredible scene that was worth the wait of four hour-long episodes to see.

Setting up Joaquín Torres as the new Falcon: I don't know if Marvel will follow through with this or even if they should. That being said, if they do, I'm all for it. Joaquín already seems like a pretty fun character, and his interactions with Sam show there's enough chemistry there to give Captain America a new wingman. I probably won't lose sleep if he doesn't become the new Falcon, but I'll still be excited regardless.

Madame Hydra: I know that she has an actual name, but I refuse to remember it due to how long and convoluted it is.

Anywho, we get a small glimpse of who Madame Hydra is as a character, but already I'm intrigued. She seems to have a fun personality, added by Julia Louis-Dreyfus' dry energy. Whether this is set up for the next big bad or just introducing a fun character, I'm interested. Madame Hydra was already a blast in the short amount of time she was in the show, and I can't wait to see what future installments have in store for her.

“Louisiana Hero”: Or as I like to call it, "Sam's Hero Theme." Because while this is the track that plays for the intro, it still shows up when Sam is training as the new Captain America. Not only is it insanely catchy, but I love that you hear a hint of the theme of Captain America: The First Avenger, yet "Louisiana Hero" is still very much its own thing. And that's another reason why I consider it Sam's motif because it fits precisely with the character. Sam is a person who has a hint of the good man that Steve was but still does his own thing when wearing the stars and stripes. Not a copy, but still heavily influenced by the original. So kudos to Henry Jackman for creating a musical piece that fits so well with a character far better than any other themes or motifs prevalent in the MCU. Because, let's be honest, there aren't that many.

Sam’s new suit: ...I mean, it looks cool. Kinda corny at times, sure, but points for comic accuracy.

Sam Carrying Karli: I mean, look at it.

This looks like something that should be painted and hung up on a wall due to how beautiful it looks.

Sam’s Speech: Two meaningful things are going on with this speech.

First, it proves once and for all that Sam Wilson is Captain America. He doesn't just fight for his country. He also believes the government that runs it should take accountability for any missteps before dealing with something worse than a person who took the term "rebellious teenager" into an extreme.

Second, it is so satisfying seeing Captain America tell government officials off about unjust treatment. Even if it does diddly-squat about anything in the real world, it's still a big moment that's effective because of the bulls**t that happens every day. It's far from an actual win, but it still feels good (I hope). And that still counts for something, right?

“We’ll need a U.S. Agent”: Credit to Louis-Dreyfus for saying a stupid cornball of a name and making it sound...not that.

WHAT I DISLIKE

Still running that Marvel Studios logo in every episode: It's still a nitpick, but its still annoying. It's alright if you want to use the full fanfare for the first episode, but at least shorten it for the rest of the season. Please? For the love of all that is holy?

The CGI: The Falcon and the Winter Soldier has some pretty...not great CGI. It's not as awful as the CG in the DC shows on the CW, but it is way too easy to tell what looks real and what doesn't. Failing to make CGI convincing has been a problem in the MCU for a while, as most of the time, characters barely look like they really exist in the scene. To me, I compare it to when Red vs. Blue switches between actual animation and Machinima. The CG models stick out like a sore thumb to the in-game models, but at least it looks cool. Because while I don't believe that I'm seeing an actual man with bird wings flying through a canyon while chasing helicopters...it still looks cool. Still, not many people would be as forgiving as I am to this type of thing, so it's onto the dislikes it goes.

The direction of the action: Now I want to clarify that I have no problems with the action itself. Some fight scenes are pretty cool while also added with some exciting set-pieces that kept me engaged the whole way through. It's just the direction of the action that I have issues with. The camera is always shaky with so many cuts that it's hard to follow half the time. It's an understandable technique to hide the stunt double's faces or to make it look like it really is the actual actor who's doing the fighting. The issue is that once you know a show like Daredevil exists, with its plethora of well-directed action, the cracks in the armor become much more noticeable for a series like The Falcon and the Winter Soldier.

Karli Morgenthau: Karli...frustrates me. Because on the one hand, Erin Kellyman does an impeccable job at portraying the heartbreak, frustrations, and determination that Karli has when fighting for her cause. On the other hand, Karli's cause is so layered with hypocrisy that it's hard to understand her position. She wants to prove how the world was better during the Blip, saying that everyone was happier then. So why do things like blow people up and kill “Captain America?” I get the latter. The guy's a d**k. But to prove to people how better things were, is death and destruction really the best choice to get that point across? I get the mentality of how people respond better to a harmful fist rather than a tranquil hand, but really, has that mentality ever worked out either?

However, you could argue that her hypocrisy is fueled by the super-soldier serum, with the "good becomes great and bad becomes worse" theory that John all but confirms. Although, unlike John, we never got to see Karli pre-serum, so we don't know how much it really had affected her. With John, it's easy as many scenes indicate how close he was to snapping and murdering someone who disrespects him. We don't get that for Karli and are left to assume she was already crazy about thinking how intense violence can show the world how great things were during the Blip.

Then again, that could be the plan. Show how a person with the best intentions is ultimately wrong, given the lengths they go through to accomplish them. It worked for Thanos, so it should work here. And it would have...if not for Sam saying that Karli has a point. Because for the main hero to say that the villain is correct, you have to show them doing more good than bad. I understand the mentality Karli, and the Flag Smashers, have. But by doing nothing but committing crimes and violence, any point they have is discredited. Take note of the fact that nobody but nutcases on the internet says that Thanos has a point. Because he doesn't. He's a maniacal supervillain who does something so intense that nobody should be on his side. It's similar with Karli, but because we're apparently supposed to agree with her, she doesn't work as well.

...DO YOU SEE WHY SHE'S FRUSTRATING?! Because while I can see how she can be an incredible character, there are so many holes in how she works that I fail to appreciate any of it. And seeing how she's the main antagonist, a character who takes up a good chunk of the screen time, it's not a good thing that she tends to flounder more times than she should. I want to like Karli, but given everything that's wrong with her, I just can't.

Rewriting Sharon as the Power Broker: This is an intriguing idea met with a mixed execution. You see, I like the idea of a character who was once an ally becoming a villain, yet the heroes have no clue about it whatsoever. It creates solid dramatic irony, but only if done well. With Sharon, it's not really done well. It genuinely feels like her character was changed radically to give her this personality. A fun personality, I'll add, but one that comes across as really jarring when looking back at her previous appearance. Don't get me wrong, a character's current personality feeling so radically different from their previous one can work a treat, but only when we see them go through point A to point B. We're told about the s**t that went down with Sharon, but unlike understanding the mentality of the Flag Smashers, her personality change would have been more effective if we saw it. So while I like the idea of Sharon becoming another big bad in the future, I would have liked it more if we saw her decline into possible villainy.

------------

By using my usual scoring system for MCU shows and movies, I'd give this season of The Falcon and the Winter Soldier a solid 8/10. There are problems. Quite a lot of problems. Hell, even the stuff I like comes with a fair share of issues. It's just a matter of asking yourself, "Do I like some parts more than I dislike them?" For me, I find myself enjoying much more than I didn't. It's not perfect by any means, but while it definitely falters at times, The Falcon and the Winter Soldier is a series that soars to great heights. You might not be in love with it, but you’ll have a helluva good time regardless.

Now if you don't excuse me, it's time I swap from one superhero series to another as I share my more in-depth thoughts on--

#marvel cinematic universe #the falcon and the winter soldier #mcu reviews #what i thought about

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marvel-mushroom · 3 years

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A Quick Little Marvel Rant

I find it so hilarious when people say things like:

"Steve Rogers is the only one who can be Captain America"

I honestly find it so f*cking hilarious.Especially when you try to explain the fact that many superheroes have passed their mantles down,yet they still come up with a million and one excuses.Sure you can be an MCU fan without being a fan of the comics,that's totally fine.But atleast educate yourself.

Hearing people come up for excuses as to why they don't think that Sam Wilson,an African American man,should be Captain America sounds pretty darn racist if you ask me.

And they keep comparing him to Steve.When we should not compare them at all.They are two different people who have different ways of doing things and different abilities,but both have similar values in the fact that they want to stand up againt oppression and inspire people to become better.And we too should live by those values.

Even just trying to take the spotlight off of Sam is selfish.TFATWS is about Sam,and Bucky as well,but it's focused on Sam.It is not about Steve.He had a good run in the MCU but his story has drawn to a close,so leave him at peace.He is dancing with Peggy in another time.

Something else that has bothered me,not to point fingers at certain sides since it's obviously not everyone though.Some people who still ship Steve with Bucky seem to be getting angry at the stupidest of things.I saw a post in which someone was upset over the fact that Bucky is getting more screentime with Sam.And even worse,they were upset by the fact that Sebastian Stan shares more photos with Anthony than he shared photos with Chris.

Is it so hard to accept that Sebastian Stan has a real friendship with Anthony Mackie?While him and Chris Evans were simply co-stars who had high respect for eachother?Is it so hard to accept that a European man is better friends with an African American man rather than a white American man?Please grow up.They are grown men who are not hurting anyone,so who they are friends with is none of your concern.

Anthony Mackie does not deserve any kind of hate.He is one of the most amazing and unprobalimatic actors in the MCU and his goal is to be a Captain America that will inspire everyone.It's his time to shine.So please,give it up for our Captain America,Sam Wilson.Or take your hate else where.

We should work together to educate ourselves and others on serious topics such as racism,because it should have no place in the fandom.

Sorry for having to leave this mess in these tags but I had to get that off my chest.I'm open to hearing your opinions on this.Thank you for reading

#sam wilson #steve rogers #marvel #tfatws #captain america #bucky barnes #marvel rant #racism in fandom

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chaotic-good-hawke · 5 years

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Voice Claim Meme

Tagged by @gingerbreton, @dickeybbqpit, and kinda by @allisondraste. Thank you, lovelies! This is a long one, I had a lot of thoughts about this.

THE WARDENS

Nichelle Nichols as Damita Surana

Soft, unassuming, delicate, precise. Her diction is as crisp as her casting. She rarely uses contractions. Her language can verge on being academic, but kind. She is not one for small talk, but does enjoy deep conversations. She has a ringing laugh, but if you surprise her, she snorts and then subsequently blushes. Confident when talking about something she has read about, but awkward when she tries to lie. Her anger is flushed cheeks, tears held back, and muttered words under her breath, too low to hear. Her singing voice is a clear, sweet alto.

Anne Hathaway as Ciembe Mahariel

Sarcastic, flirtatious, direct, and at times, brash. She speaks with a laugh hanging on the edge of her voice, a shield against the world. Her language is taunting, needling, piercing, yet charming, she voices her thoughts. Her laughter, her true laughter is compared to howling, loud and unabashed. Her lies are coated in sweetness and coy glances. Her anger is hot and violent, swears and curses. Her voice is untrained, the thing of campfires and taverns, singing a wild soprano, full of emotion and lilts.

Rachel Weisz as Catheryne Cousland

Reserved, diplomatic, educated, distant. Her voice rarely gives away anything, trained early to speak with purpose and intent, only being open with those she trusts. Her words are aristocratic, at times flowery, charm an artifice of her upbringing. Her laughter is gentle, soft, and charming. Lies flow as easily as truths, ruthless and flawless, learned from her mother and tempered by the courts. Her wrath is cold, icy resolve clipping her words. Her singing voice is a mezzo, as at home with sea shanties she learned in her youth to the choral pieces of the chantry, articulated and full of vibrato.

Daniel Dae Kim as Cathal Tabris

Outspoken, biting, sincere, and direct. His tone of voice leaves no question to his opinion, rough and tinged with a dialect reserved for those raised in Alienages. Kindness and respect is shown only to those he finds deserving. His words are common, coarse, peppered with swears and slang. Cautious at unknowns, but when threatened, he snarks, bold and unfettered. His laughter is harsh and open, true laughter showing on his whole body. His anger is quick, boiling, but quiet, preferring action to words. Lies are obvious, bold-faced, taunting you to call him on it. His singing voice is baritone, softer and sweeter than one would think, but only heard by family and friends.

THE INQUISITORS

Jameela Jamil as Hela Lavellan

Clever and teasing, shameless and flirty. Tells wild tales, riddled with exaggerated language and out right lies. Will talk for ages of nothing of consequence, arguing the merits of teas and wines and cards and horses. Calmer and more purposeful with her loved ones. Assertive and serious when she has to be, she laughs easy, a bold and inviting sound. Her lies are riddled with half-truths, her manners revealing nothing. Her anger is explosive and destructive, cooling quickly at personal offences, but simmering at racism and slights against her people. She sings with a smile, mezzo, true and baudy.

Tom Hiddleston as Fenrir Lavellan

Educated, extroverted, charming, clever. Will argue to argue, to see all sides to an issue or problem. Loves to ramble on for hours about a given subject. Vindictive and wolfish when threatened, ruthless and cold when others he claims are threatened. His anger burns cold and cruel. Soft-spoken, patient, and kind to the young and in need. Lies flow easy, when used as protection, but more often he deflects, twisting the words. Laughs loud and clear, his whole face lighting up with delight. His singing voice is a light tenor, lilting and full.

Krysten Ritter (a la Jessica Jones) as Astrid Cadash

Dusky, blunt, coarse, clipped. Doesn't like to talk a lot, and even then only if it serves her or is with someone she likes. Direct, questioning, and common. Swears often. Her laugh is short, like a bark, rare. Lies are common, told as often as truths. Her rage is equally cold and calculating, jabs and sneers meaning nothing to her. When cornered, she responds with sarcasm and curses. Her voice is a gravely alto, only heard after several drinks.

Marisha Ray as Sekmet Adaar

Upfront, low, precise, friendly. Speaks when there is a reason to, commanding and controlled. Will share stories and experience, will flirt and tease. Unashamed of her feelings or her opinions. Her laugh is remarkably cute, soft and full, rumbling and from her chest. Lies are foreign to her, a half-truth the best she can do. Her anger is a slow thing, building, until she acts. Her singing voice is pitchy and out-of-tune, she will speak a tune more than sing.

Anthony Mackie as Ronan Trevelyan

Cultured, charming, reckless, and sincere. An extrovert, speaks evenly, but often, laughing fully. A Gentleman Cowboy, jovial and polite. Thoughtful in his comments, kindness his first reaction. Flowery and poetic. His lies are stumbled over, stuttered out. His anger tinged with sadness, protective and hurt. His singing is lulling, a deep baritone, charming and sweet.

I will tag: @a-roaming-halla, @veridium-bye, @jawsandbones, @cullenvhenan, @frecklef0x, @bisexualryder, @bitchesofostwick, @iawv, and anyone else who wants to do this! Sorry if you have already done this. And as always, no pressure!

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ocean-park-avenue · 5 years

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Tom Hiddleston X Reader: Your Solace

Relationship: F/M

Words: 1581

Tags: Injuries, gore-ish, Angst

Originals found on my AO3 account: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18797740

Summary: Something goes wrong at the Endgame premier in LA.

The loud cheering of the crowd echoed of the lit streets of Los Angeles. Black and white limousines pulled up against the curb. The driver of each opened the black door to reveal each stunning celebrity that was dressed in the finest of fashion and elegance.

You sighed.

So far, almost the entire cast of Endgame was on the red carpet now. You spotted Chris Evans and Anthony Mackie laughing along with a cute blonde reporter. You also spotted Tom Holland and Benedict Cumberbatch having a casual interview with a reporter from Entertainment Tonight.

All this commotion and still, you had not seen Tom Hiddleston once.

You sighed again, deeply.

A small hand slapped your back, causing you to bump into the metal bars that separated the common public from the busy celebrities on the other side of the road.

“Oops— sorry!”

You glared at your friend Tamara. “You didn’t have to slap me to get my attention.”

“Well, it’s really loud. So, it was the best way to not cause a scene,” she replied sheepishly.

You just chuckled and went back to facing the red carpet. “Yeah, whatever.”

More limousines pulled up to the street side. You could see Pom Klementieff, Evangeline Lilly, and Jon Favreau step out of each of their vehicles and wave to the adoring crowd.

“Still don’t see Hiddleston?” Tamara asked as she leaned on the metal rail with you.

“Nope.”

“I’m sure he’ll show. I think he tweeted that he was coming. I’m not sure though.”

“Oh, no. It’s fine if he doesn’t show. I can still admire Sebastian from here.”

Tamara giggled. “Yeah, but I specifically bought these tickets so you could meet him . Though, your not wrong about Stan. That navy suit works for him.”

“Yeah, yeah. I know.” You waved your hand dismissively. “If the universe doesn’t what me to meet my idol, it’s fine.” You focused your eyes back to the red carpet and exhaled loudly.

“Well, fuck the universe then! I say you will meet him! And he will come! As a matter of fact...”

By now, you had already drowned out Tamara’s voice. It wasn’t that she was annoying of anything. She just had a habit of constantly rambling on unless someone or something interrupted her. You’d learned it was better to let her be. Interrupting her just made her forget what she was saying and then have her repeat it all over again.

The next line of limousines had pulled up to the curb. The drivers each held the door open. Out stepped Chris Pratt, Josh Brolin (you still hadn’t forgotten what Thanos did to Loki in Infinity War), and finally...

Your breath hitched when a smiling Tom Hiddleston came out of the last limousine, enthusiastically waving to the crowd of Marvel fans, guarded by the metal railing you were having trouble grasping.

It was him. It was really him , in the flesh. Not some picture on the internet, just him . Tom Hiddleston was right in front of you (well, more like a roads length away).

You wanted to yell out to him or something , but the lump in your throat said otherwise.

“...and that’s why is so important that this happens for yo— Hey, isn’t that him?” Tamara finished her rant and looked to the same man your eyes were locked on.

All you could do was nod.

“Well, what are you waiting for? Yell out to him, flash him for all I care,” —Tamara earned an elbow to the stomach for that comment—,” just do something. You deserve his attention more than any of these thirty thots.”

“Hey! That’s a bit rude. And no I don’t. They all paid for their tickets, just like us. I deserve as much attention from him as anyone else here. I’m not someone with special privileges.” You retorted.

“Yeah, but you’ve been through so much just to get to this point in your life. You at least deserve a little recognition for that.”

Tamara was starting to sound childish at this point and you rolled your eyes.

“My life is far from what I want it to be,” you said looking down at the asphalt road. It’s even unbearable sometimes .

“Ugh!” Tamara groaned. “You’ve been through so much shit and you don’t give yourself enough credit for getting through it all! Your family is full of assholes, your dating life was filled with assholes at one point, and even your friends were assholes! Well— not me. And...”

As Tamara began to rant again, you looked back at Tom. He was standing next to Chris Hemsworth as a report mainly asked questions aimed at the blonde. Tom just smiled and laughed along with the jokes being told. You admired all of it from a far.

Your admiration for Tom Hiddleston came the first time you saw Thor: Ragnarok. You were just so amazed with how he portrayed Loki. You’d wished you had found out about him sooner. After, you binge-watched all his movies. Everyone seemed to be better than the last. You developed a deep respect for him, and from then on, vowed to watch every movies, film, play, or musical with him in it.

His work had come into your life when you were at your lowest. All you wanted to do was meet him and say how thankful you were. Without all of his amazing acting, you wouldn’t have been here to see him in real life.

Taking a break from just blatantly staring at the man, you stretched your neck and looked down the side of the road. Your head stopped when you saw a man wearing all black enter a black SUV with a pistol in his hand. In the front seat, he started up the car and cocked the gun. Your eyes widened.

As soon as the car started driving, your legs were already hoisting yourself over the metal bars. A few security guards tried to run after you but all you could focus on was the the car speeding down the road.

Everything moved in slow motion from then on.

You ran as fast as your legs could carry you and managed to make it to the other side of the side walk before the car could run you over.

The window of the drivers side rolled down and a silver pistol peaked out from it.

Tom was just a step away from you when you heard the pistol fire and you jumped.

The world was no longer slow. Everything was loud and chaotic. The sound of people running and screaming filled your ears. It was irritating.

You wanted to cover your ears but you couldn’t. Your hands were already pressing firmly on the bullet wound on your stomach. You could feel the thick blood trickle onto your hands and down your side as you laid in a pool of your own blood.

Among the loud noise of screaming and running you could make out a familiar voice with a particular accent. “Oh, my God! Someone call 911! Get an ambulance! Now, please! She’s going to bleed to death!!”

You felt your torso lifted and placed into the lap of someone. That someone also joined in on pressing on the bullet wound.

Your vision was blurry and the loud noise mixed with the awful pain the wound provided was somehow becoming more relaxing by the second. Your eyelids felt heavy and your heartbeat slowed with each passing minute.

A pair of soft hands gently cupped your face and your eyes fluttered open. Tom Hiddleston stared down at you with an expression full of concern and worry.

“No, no, no. Please don’t fall asleep. You have to stay away until the ambulance arrives.” His voice was so calm, but you could hear the fret behind the facade.

“I want to sleep.” You mumbled as hot tears ran down your face. “I-it hurts too much.”

“Shh, shh,” Tom whispered. His thumb delicately moved under your tear-filled eyes yo wipe them. “I know, I know. Just, please, stay awake. They’ll be hear any minute.”

You began a coughing fit, coughing blood into your shirt. You felt the blood roll your jaw and onto your neck.

You focused on Tom’s rapid breathing, instead of the piercing pain the wound left in your stomach.

It feels so much better when I close my eyes, you thought and your eyes began to flutter.

Tom noticed right away and brought you back to your miserable reality. “What did I say? No sleeping, please.”

All you could manage was a nod.

There was silence before Tom spoke again. “Wh-Why?” he whispered.

“Wha...?”

“Why did you jump in front of the bullet? It was aimed at me and you ran all the way across the street just to take it for me. Why?”

For the first time in this terrible situation, you smiled. “Because of you. If I died no one would care. But if you died, all your fans would be left without you and you’ve helped so many people... including me. So, all I want to say is thank you. Thank you for everything you do. It means the world to me and so many others.”

You reached with both arms to envelope him in a hug.

At that moment all of the pain you’d ever felt, seemed to leave your body and mind all at once. You smiled once more. Your heart beat slowed and the world around you went black.

#tomhiddleston #tomhiddlestonxreader #marvel #marvel fanfiction #tom hiddleston #tom hiddleston fanfic

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peacefulwriter88 · 6 years

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Never Good Enough - Chapter 7

Sebastian Stan x PoC, Chris Evans x PoC

You randomly go on a blind date, set up by your friend Anthony, with Sebastian Stan. Due to the awkward interaction you are convinced that the date ends badly due to your cultural background.

When you run into him years later, can he re-win your heart?Warnings: M for Mature (language per usual and like PG 13 stuff for this chapter)

Warnings: M for Mature (language per usual and like PG 13 stuff for this chapter)

A/N: Okay firstly I want to re-iterate that I am not anti-Margarita. If you are do your thing but I’m not looking for women hating on women on this website. I am writing this for the sake of my FICTIONAL world so don’t look too much into it.

Sebastian inserts the key into his apartment, giving a relieved sigh as he walks into the large space.

Home.

It felt like a lifetime and yet he couldn’t even relieve in it – knowing that he was still expected to continue on with the press tour. It was New York, then L.A. and then it would be over. He had a few weeks off before he would jump into another project and the idea frustrated him.

He was running out of time.

He had thought long and hard about what Anthony had told him in the elevator three weeks back. Couldn’t process that you didn’t know that he was into you, or that he wouldn’t be into you because you were a woman of color. Why did that matter? Sure, his track record didn’t demonstrate that he had dated many women who weren’t…..well if he was going to be frank with himself white. But not because that was what he preferred. Just what he always somehow ended up dating.

Had he really left that bad of impression with you last time that you thought that little of him? No wonder you hated him – in your head you thought he found you so unattractive you had willing gone out to make out with someone else on top of just plain ditching you for the date you were in.

That realization had him thinking long and hard about his actions – what that meant in his personal life. Who the hell he was becoming.

So while he contemplated this, he had slowly been losing you. He was a processor, everyone knew that, except probably you. But as a result of trying to figure out how to address his actions that had left such a sour mark on you, Chris was winning over your heart by the day. He had worked fast. He had missed breakfast with you the last few weeks, only finding out through a loose text from Mackie, that you would meet them at the interview. Meet them there because Chris was the one treating you out to breakfast. Lunch was monopolized by Mackie, who because of the hectic and crazier schedule the tour had become as it inched closer to the movie release date, had to be around. He always sent a text apologizing but he was relieved – you were either preoccupied with work or Chris texts that he barely could get a word in. He had hoped to make up for it on the flight out here, leaving for Spain, but instead Chris had switched his flight plans so he could sit next to you. He had to deal with the two of you laughing, chatting and cuddling for a full 12 hours flight.

Karma was serving him a hot, steamy dish of fuck off and he couldn’t even be pissed about it because he deserved it and that shit was even more infuriating.

He places his keys in his ceramic bowl, making his way to his fridge. He knows there’s nothing inside, outside of sparkling water and condiments and sighs as he closes it, pressing his head against the cool metal.

He needed to run. He had been sitting down for 12 hours, he had a lot of energy and he needed to clear his head. Then he could move from there.

He changed quickly, slipping into his old Rutgers shirt and a pair of baggy shorts before grabbing his headphones and keys. Even though he had plans to go to the gym in the morning, he knew an evening jog would at least help him get through the night while he debated what to do next.

The minute he steps outside, he already feels the tension leaving him. He doesn’t even wait for his music to kick in as he allows his feet to carry him, distracting him as he takes off into his route. His brain is able to focus, slow down all of his anxiety and worry as he gets lost in the evening space, heading to Central Park. It was uncharacteristically warm for April, though there’s still a bit of a chill in the air, but it’s the perfect combination as he goes faster, letting the wind cool him down as his legs pump faster.

He’s run five miles, his iPhone notes as it switches to another song, and decides that he won’t push it too much knowing that Don would probably have him running eight miles in the morning and he starts to slow down, trying to wind down.

And then he’s on the ground.

He couldn’t have seen the figure who was running just as hard, equally fast as they turned the corner and the momentum knocks the both of them on the ground, headphones sailing array as they take a second to register what has just occurred. He’s barely sitting up, praying to god he hasn’t knocked some older woman out and even more that he didn’t break anything on said woman, when familiar eyes look back into his own and he smiles.

“Y/N?” he asks as you look back at him, eyes squinting before you say,

“Sebastian?”

He smiles as he stands, easily finding his headphones and throwing them around his neck before walking toward you. You’re still on your ass, looking for your headphones which he walks by, picking them up and saying,

“Looking for these?”

You give a relieved sigh as you nod, and he extends his hand out to help you up. You take it easily, your warm hand gripping his own as he helps you up and you give a relieved smile as you wince.

“God I was worried I took out like a grandma or a child. Or that I ran into a goddamn tree that sprouted out of nowhere – you’re deceivingly solid.”

He laughs and shakes his head,

“I thought I ran down an old woman. It’s happened before and…..well anyways I’m glad it was you.”

You raise a skeptical eyebrow as he continues,

“Because you’re not an old woman who’s hip I might’ve fractured. That, and, I haven’t seen you much outside of work so it’s nice. To see you. Like this.”

He knows he’s rambling but he can’t stop it, fumbling over each set of words and you give a soft smile as you nod, slowly biting your lip.

“That’s fair. Chris has been stealing a lot of time away from you and Mackie….” You furrow your eyebrows together as debating something. Then you look down, your hands still gripped around his and he looks down sheepishly, pulling away.

“Sorry I didn’t – I shouldn’t have –“ he wasn’t prepared for this, your sudden presence and you shrug as you grab your headphones, similar large Beat headphones as you throw them around your neck.

“It’s getting dark, I was about done with my run and debating where to get dinner. It’s been a while since I’ve been in New York and though my trainer would yell at me – I am dying for a slice of pizza.” You blink up at him expectantly, your eyes watching him curiously. Wondering if you were going to take the bait.

He bites. Easy. You were basically handing yourself on a platter as he shots you a large grin,

“I know this really good place, down in Little Italy. Amazing pizza. Delicious risotto. Even better wine. I was thinking of going there…if you’re interested?”

You smile as you weave your arm in his, nodding.

“Totally down. Especially if there’s good company.”

Fate, you decided, was playing some weird game of emotional cat and mouse and you weren’t sure how to feel about it. But you knew enough about fate that when it threw you a bone, whether you wanted said bone or note, it was best to lean into it then run the other way. If you did that, you knew you would be banishing yourself to some sad version of sad karma and you refused to go down that rabbit hole. So you were going to lean into it.

You weren’t a runner. Not really. You preferred getting your workouts in by swimming, or playing a sport or hating the fact that you had to go to the gym while you were pushing yourself at the gym. Running was the last thing you did but sometimes, when you were feeling really anxious and had too much energy, it was the only way you knew to get it all out.

That was how you felt after you landed in New York. Restless and too much energy resting in your body.

It was Chris. He was too fucking perfect.

You knew that couldn’t be true – everyone had flaws – but if Chris had any he hid them. So well the paranoid woman in you wondered if he was like Dexter, hiding his charming self to only expose himself as a justice wielding serial killer. It was an extreme thought, you knew that, but you didn’t know how else to justify a man that was just proving to be too ideal.

He was funny, intelligent (so fucking smart it was alarming), charismatic, compassionate, kind. Handsome had already been established. A fucking phenomenal kisser – if you could spend your day making out with Chris and getting paid to make out with Chris you would. So then you thought maybe, just maybe, he had a small dick.

Nope, one heated takeout session had you straddling his lap, all of his manhood pushed up against his jeans and the thin material of your skirt and you were totally okay with where this make out session was leading. A quick hook up in a small interview room while millions of reporters waited on the other side. Because you really wanted to feel all of what he was offering in you in that moment. But alas, you had been cursed with a totem named Mackie, cock blocker numero uno consistently calling you on your cell phone, reminding you of the true reason you were in Barcelona, and you were both left panting and wanting more. You loved Anthony, he was literally one of your best friends, but he was slowly inching closer and closer to your enemy list.

But Chris didn’t push it after that. Took his time with you, respecting the space and clearly informing you that he didn’t want to pressure you into sex. He was a complete and absolute gentleman.

So when he had dropped you off at your hotel room, kissing you goodbye after you assured him that you just needed the night to yourself, you had been torn with what to do next.

It was silly and ridiculous and you were making unnecessary drama for no reason but you just couldn’t believe that someone like Chris – someone who was everything any woman would want – would be interested in you. You knew what the true source of the problem was of course and you hated yourself even more for it.

You were still highly attracted to Sebastian. You were sure he was into you – but he had been distant lately and you had taken that as a sign. Except you couldn’t let that go because you liked him, little fucking imperfect perfect bastard that he was, and you hated yourself for it. Didn’t matter that one of the sexiest men on earth was panting after you. You wanted the one that was out of reach. What was the statement, “We always want what we can’t have?”

You hated whatever inner demon had attached itself into your decision making and was making you really live that feeling.

So, after saying goodbye to Chris, you had quickly changed and decided to run around Central Park. It was nice out, you needed fresh air and you could clear your thoughts. You had only gotten to three miles (hating every pounding second of it) when you had slammed into Sebastian.

Of fucking course. In a city with over a million citizens you would run into the one person who was actively taking up the space in your mind. And he looked good – damn he looked good. Even in the with the sun slowly setting his blue eyes shone, his sweatshirt rolled up to his sleeve, molding to his sculpted arms and chest. His hair was growing like a weed at this point and the short, curly strands poked out from under his NY hat.

Fuck.

So of course you had coerced him into taking you out to dinner. You wanted to get to know Sebastian. Needed to verify that you both just weren’t good for each other so you could commit to Chris. That easy.

And of course, nothing in life was that easy.

As you sat across from him, his dark eyes watching you as you squirmed in your seat, legs tucked underneath you as you leaned into the table, and you knew exactly that this was probably not going to go the way you had planned it to. He smelled faintly of Piccioli and sweat and god if the combination didn’t want you to pull him toward you and suck at his bottom lip until it was swollen. Instead you take another direction.

“Surprised you haven’t suggested for us to go to some dive bar where you have another girl you can ditch me for.”

It comes off more brutal than you intend but it does its job, hitting him and he flinches as he takes a sip of his water.

“I…..definitely deserved that. And some. Probably for the rest of my month….or at least my thirties.”

You chuckle but nod,

“Yea, you do.” You bite your lip. You opened up the flood gates so now you had to commit, “Why’d you do it?”

He watches you intently as he drums his hands on his table. It’s the same way he had looked at you the very first time you had met, mystery and intensity swirling behind his baby blues before he sighs out,

“You really want to go down this rabbit hole? I’m sure Anthony has told you how much of an emotional mess I am.”

You chuckle as you lean back in your chair, crossing your arms,

“No worse than the rest of us Stan. Believe me – we are all trying to figure it out.”

He gives a slow nod, as he takes a long sip of his water.

“Okay but dinner is on me. It’s the least I can do to subjugate you to the disaster that is my brain.”

“Dinner’s on you. Got it. Now stop avoiding the question.”

He chuckles at your persistence, raising his hands in surrender before saying,

“All right, I have to give you a lot of back context for you to truly understand what got me to where I was at mentally by the time I was sitting in front of you for dinner.”

You nod as you lean into him eagerly and he sighs.

“I’ve always fall too hard for women. It’s a problem, I go to therapy for it, continue to try to figure out how to remedy it but the fact of the matter is being in a relationship, for whatever reason, fills this void in me. Justifying to me that if maybe, somehow I can get the women that I am into to fall for me I am ….I don’t know…..good enough. That I’ve measured up to one of the expectations I have for myself. It’s been a pattern and my friends know it and they tease me for it. But falling for Margarita, my ex, the women you saw me making out with that night, it had been different.

I guess I already had an affinity for falling for older woman. But there was something about Margarita that was different. I guess, like you, she wasn’t afraid to challenge me. She wasn’t afraid to get me thinking critically through things. And we had similar backgrounds. We were both from Eastern Europe, traveling to America in our early teens. Both in the movie business. It’s hard to date someone who isn’t in this world, for them to understand how much it demands of you and how that can affect a relationship. It’s worth fighting for with the right person sure but not a lot of people who aren’t actors or actresses get it, which makes total sense right. They don’t have too.

So we were alike in a lot of ways. Had very similar interest and drivers but we were also so different. And, looking back on all of it, it happened to fast. Even though I matured a lot from that relationship, we both had put too much expectation on the other. You pair that with the expectation that you get from this business and you get one fucking mess. For me, it’s emotionally pulling away. When things get to hard I just internally crumble. I’m still working on what that looks like with different relationships I have but at the time, before I could take a step back and reflect on it, I was just quite frankly a dick.”

You nod in agreement as the waitress comes by and Sebastian’s orders a bottle of wine before he flickers over at you,

“Is it okay that I just did that? We can get something else if you like.”

You give a small smile as you shake your head,

“Take the reins, please. I have to decide things for myself and Anthony all the time – it’s nice to not do it for once. I trust your recommendation.”

He smiles and nods as he starts to play with his empty wine glass,

“Well back to it….Margarita and I had just broken up, for like the third time since being together in a six month span a week before our date. We –“

“Wait – a week? You were broken up with her for a week?” you ask and Sebastian gives a knowing nod.

“Fucking Mackie! He said you were sooooooooooooo single. That’s not single at all. I was your rebound. No wonder you fucking ditched me for her when you saw her.” You mutter and Sebastian chuckles shaking his head,

“To be fair to Anthony…at the time I was being really weird about being with Margarita. Committing to her and all that. And I didn’t make it official, not really, at that point. I saw her making out with some guy at this party two weeks back, we fought, we broke up or whatever, it’s what landed me on a date with you. Anthony was sure Margarita and I weren’t good together. He felt like we were good together as friends but…….a messy couple. I know that you probably think he’s not the best matchmaker.”

“He’s the worse!” you argue and Sebastian shrugs,

“He might be. But he gets chemistry. Specifically people’s chemistry. He’d be a really good talent scout if he ever stopped acting – I’ll give him that. Anyways, he had suggested I go on a date with you. He talked about you all the time – I felt like I practically knew you by the time it was our date. But he never told me that you were so….” He frowns, his eyes flickering away from you.

“What?” you ask, your heart thudding in your chest. By this time you’re pretty sure he’s going to admit to everything that you were nervous about. Your race, your skin color, your hair, your weight…everything that you were conflicted about. Instead he breathes out,

“Beautiful.”

His eyes are watching you as you see him exhale, carefully reading you as the waitress comes by and offers the wine. You both nod but you know something has shifted in the air, a static tension you didn’t want to acknowledge. The wine is poured and and Sebastian orders, his eyes never leaving yours and you take a long sip out of your glass.

That was the last thing you expected to hear from him.

When the waitress leaves you’re left alone and he follows your lead, taking a long sip of wine before he says,

“I had in my head that you were going to be this fun friend, a good distraction for the mess in my head and a fucked up relationship, we’d eat dinner and I’d see you off. And then you walked in and….fuck…I wasn’t expecting you to just be so beautiful. And then we started talking and the more we talked, the more you opened up, I knew I was in trouble. You were the exact kind of woman I could see myself falling for. But you were different than Margarita, in so many ways and not just in the physical sense. Just….your energy. Your personality. And it just felt natural. It scared the shit out of me. When we were at that club and you went to the bathroom, apparently Margarita was there. Obviously. She confronted me and I didn’t’ want you to come back out to me talking to this other girl so I told her we needed to chat outside. She was confronting me about you and I was confronting her about why she cared and I was drunk and confused and….well, you know the rest. I was a complete and utter selfish dick and I broke your heart and I didn’t even have the courtesy to apologize to you. So that’s it Y/N - that’s why I did what I did. It’s not an excuse, not even a good explanation but it’s what happened.”

You’ve been slowly sipping on your wine, unaware at how quickly until your glass is empty and you sigh as you grab the bottle, pouring a large amount into the glass.

“I’ll buy the next bottle because holy shit. I wasn’t expecting that Stan. I was expecting ‘I was a young douche bag that didn’t know what I wanted and was afraid of women who weren’t skinny and white so that’s why I ditched you’. It’s what I normally get.”

His eyes furrow together as he leans into the table, into you before he asks,

“Why did you think that? Did I say anything?”

You shrug as you place your hand on the table, playing with the silver ware as you twirled your wine glass in the other hand,

“No, well….no. You just – Sebastian you’re fucking hot. And you’re such a bro,” you laugh and shake your head, “It’s not your fault, this feeling is all on me, but I also projected some of my insecurities on you. That’s how most men I’ve dated that fit your mold, you know, treat women like me. It wasn’t fair but also you left me… I didn’t know what to think. So I just, accepted it, figured you were a dick and moved on. Until Anthony set me up for failure years later.”

You roll your eyes and Sebastian laughs as his hand moves over to yours on the table, giving it a squeeze,

“I’m so very sorry again about it. You deserve better. You deserve the world. And I hate that I made you feel for a second you weren’t’ worth anyone love. Because any man, no matter what their background is, would be lucky to have a chance with you.”

His voice is low, softness and sincerity intertwined in each word as you look at his hand and then back up into his eyes. His mouth is pulled into a smile and his eyes are big, sapphire pools of hope.

You were his. He didn’t need to do anything else to convince you otherwise. You give a nod and smile, giving his hand a squeeze.

“Well you’re forgiven. And I’m sorry for assuming you were a dick…actually - nope I’m not. I stand by my actions – you deserved it.”

He laughs, nodding his head as he leans back in his chair.

“Fair Y/N, very fair.”

You both drink too much wine. By the time either of you realize it, you’re two bottles in and the restaurant is winding down as you step outside into the night New York air, laughing and shaking your head.

“Our hangover is going to be terrible.” You say as you stand outside the restaurant, looking up at him with those large eyes that he’s decided, he’d easily do anything for if you asked. You were different when your guard was down, completely down. You were funny and carefree and dorky – witty but flighty and he liked it. It was different than the image you portrayed when you were at work, you were freer and he felt it easy to be himself. Even when you pushed back, challenging him, it didn’t feel like he was being isolated for being wrong but a different way of looking at things. It scared him. Probably because he was just as nerdy and stumbled through the English language with a frequency you’d think he’d be used to and spent way too much time dreaming then focusing in the moment. And that, even if he knew he was wrong, he hated when people told him otherwise and you had a mastery to get him to listen without attacking his pride.

Dangerous. That was how he felt when he had seen you. You were dangerous because you had the power to have him giving 100% of himself and he had never done that with a woman. Except right now, wine tipsiness driving him, he wanted to fall into the feeling, consequences be damned.

“Probably. I’m gonna blame you if my agent says anything.”

“Me!?” you give him a playful push and he takes the blow with ease as you stagger toward him, catching you with ease.

“You’re really clumsy you know that?”

You roll your eyes as he tries to maneuver his arm around your waist, leading you back to your hotel but his foot catches on a part of uneven sidewalk, tripping and bringing you almost down. The both of you catch each other easily before you’re looking at him, shaking your head.

“Me? You are crazy ridiculous clumsy Sebastian. You trip and fall over like 90% of things you touch. Including me apparently!”

He laughs as his hands grip around your waist, drawing you to him and your plant your arms around him, throwing your head back. He tries to fight the urge to place a kiss on your neck, desperately wanting to know how you tasted as he kissed his way down to the apex of your cleavage. It was all he could do as you bring your attention back to his face and tease,

“It’s not nice to stare.”

“Hard to not stare when you look the way you do.”

You burst out in laughter, shaking your head as you exclaim,

“That is the corniest pick up line I have heard in a while.”

“I’ll be here all night.” He beams and you laugh more as you give a deep sigh.

“I probably shouldn’t have ordered that second bottle of wine.”

“Probably not but I also agreed to it so….you know.”

You nod as you watch him, your face shifting. No longer amused humor hung in the air, your eyes no longer twinkling with mischief. Something else lived between them as you watched him.

“You’re kinda perfect, you know that Seb?”

It surprises him, the boldness of your words that come out of your mouth and he can feel his face flushing red, distracting himself by rubbing circles against the exposed skin on your waist.

“I am not. I mean, I don’t think I’m not good looking but lots of people are.”

You shake your head as your hands start to outline his face, trailing a path against the contours of his face,

“You have like, perfect face symmetry. Big, bold beautiful eyes. Luscious hair. Fucking European dream. And that’s not even accounting for that jaw that could cut through glass and your lips, god you have the most perfect lips….” Your voice has dropped a bit and he groans as he draw you closer, trying to ignore the growing erection in his pants.

“If this is a coy to get me to tell you how fucking perfect you are, you could’ve just asked,” his voice is huskier as his mouth finds your ear, his hands biting into your waist as he whispers, “You want me to tell you how I dream about those big, pretty eyes looking at me, your dimpled cheeks beaming as I consume that mouth of yours. How I imagine what it would feel like to taste every inch of you, from the curve of your breast to that pretty little pussy that I know tastes good.”

You groan as his lips snake down to your neck, knowing he was losing an uphill battle with desire. Your skin is hot but soft and he nips at the delicate flesh, sucking and nipping at you before he whispers,

“Is that what you want to hear Y/N. How fucking crazy you drive me? How many times I’ve touched myself thinking about you. You’re a fucking demon, teasing my dreams and knowing I can’t do a damn thing about it.”

“Sebastian….” You whisper and he pulls back, watching you under hooded eyes. Your face is ruined, completely wrecked and he can’t fight it. He bends down and kisses you, mouth consuming your own and you fall into it easily, pulling him closer to you. It’s sloppy and desperate and wanting, tongue and teeth clashing as he moans out your name, drawing you flush to his erection. You groan as your nails bite into the skin of his neck, desperately trying to get close to him before you both feel it. A low vibration hitting both of your torsos, and you sigh before you’re pulling away.

Your face is clouded as you dig into your sweater pocket, pulling out your phone and you groan as you read the name on the screen, placing your forehead on his chest.

“Fucking Mackie. He literally ruins everything.”

Sebastian chuckles as he holds you, drawing you into a hug as he whispers against your forehead,

“It’s late. I should get you home.”

You groan but nod, pulling away and staring up at him.

“You’re right.”

He watches you, watches the uncertainty flickering in your eyes before he wipes a strand a hair from your face, falling from your ponytail. You fall into his touch and his heart clenches as he bends down and kisses you, his mouth slowly molding into your mouth, easily coercing yours and you give a contented sigh into his mouth before he pulls away,

“I’m going to fight for you Y/N. I’m tired of sitting on my ass and watching someone else win over your heart. But if I do I need you to understand one thing – I like you because of who you are. I don’t care about your skin tone or how you look. I like you because you are you. I need you to understand that because apparently I’ve done a shitty job of showing you why it is I like you for who you are.”

He doesn’t mean to shift the tone but he needs you to know as he cups your face, watching you deliberately and your mouth twitches into a small smile as you close your eyes, your forehead resting against his chest. Not saying a thing and yet saying anything as he holds you tight, resting his head along your own.

Not wanting to leave the moment.

Tag List: @xgminigypsy @zohoffman @ssweet-empowerment@capsofwinchesters @tacohead13@harleycativy@pietrotheavenger @francezka10@papichulosebastian@obsessionsofmynerdheart @melaninmarvel@avengedqueen26 @nasteaxluvgal @winterbuttmunch

#sebastian stan #chris evans #sebastian stan x reader #chris evans x reader #sebastian stan x plus size reader #sebastian stan x person of color #chris evans x person of color

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thorne93 · 7 years

Text

First Impression (Part 18 - FINAL)

Prompt: Imagine your friend, Anthony Mackie, brings you with him to an event and introduces you to his friend, Sebastian, who’s blown away by you. He immediately starts flirting and acting silly because you make him nervous and he just wants to impress you

Warnings: flirting (adult style), language (always, with me, come on), and drama (later on in the fic)

Word Count: 1723

Notes: If anyone has kids or wives out of the celebrities mentioned, in this universe, they sort of don’t exist….Just for the sake of keeping it concise. Beta’d by @like-a-bag-of-potatoes (because shes perfectly amazing) and I could NOT, not, just not have done any of this at all without my amazing girl, @amarvelouswritings

So this is it. Thank you to everyone who supported this fic and kept up with it. I love all of you! I hope you enjoyed it as much as I loved writing it. This last part isn’t beta’d so if it’s messed up, that’s on me.

Forever Tags: @amarvelouswritings @cocosierra94 @essie1876 @magpiegirl80 @letsgetfuckingsuperwholocked @harleyquinnandscarletwitch @iamwarrenspeace @marvel-imagines-yes-please @superwholocked527 @myparadise1982sand @missinstantgratification @thejulesworld @rda1989 @marvelloushamilton @munlis @bubblyanarocks3 @thefridgeismybestie @random-fluffy-pink-unicorn @hardcollectionworldtrash @igiveupicantthinkofausername @kaliforniacoastalteens

Sebastian Stan Tag: @nedthegay @lostinspace33 @alwayshave-faith @elleatrixlestrange @buenostardissherlock @lenawiinchester @the-red-world-of-jess-chibi @memory-of-a-goldfish

Chris Evans Tag (Normally wouldn’t, but he’s featured a lot): @nedthegay @camigt1999 @lostinspace33 @alwayshave-faith @elleatrixlestrange

First Impressions Tag: @goodnightwife @spacemarkimoo @masha-meow01 @axelinchen @smuoooshie @hollycornish @seargantbcky @mellsstark @lyfewithtrish @cinema212 @sophiealiice @yes-this-is-doggo @sky-weirdo @feelmyroarrrr @devil-may-cry-11-blog

~~~~~~~~~~

He drove around LA all night, trying to clear his head. He had no idea what to do or say to you. What he said back at your apartment was a dick move. He wanted you. Of course he still wanted you. But at this point, all these months later, he felt you were at a point of no return. There was no coming back from all of this. There was too much damage, too much bad karma, too many bad vibes between you and him.

It hurt to know that you didn’t trust him. But could he blame you? No. You’d been fucked over by partners just as he had been. It wasn’t your fault that yet again, it looked like someone screwed you over, used your heart as a toy. You were simply reacting the best way you knew how - with anger. Maybe if you acted like a bitch, or acted fierce, people would back off and leave you alone.

The only problem was, he didn’t want to leave you alone. But he wasn’t going to keep reopening this wound for you. That was cruel and unfair to both of you. As much as it killed him, he needed to let you go.

He made the preparations and dropped the envelope at your door.

-----------------

You went to go let Rocky out, when you saw the envelope. It had your name on it with no postage so you knew it wasn’t sent. Frowning, you picked it up and carried the envelope and Rocky back inside.

“Hang on, bud,” you said sweetly as you sat on the couch and opened it.

“Y/N,

I know me writing this is sort of old fashioned, but seeing as when we are face to face, fury flies, and over text or over the phone is unacceptable, I’m opting for this. First off, I’m sorry about what Marissa sent you. She really did come to my apartment to grab some things, I was running late for my flight but I let her in really quick, being nice, to grab her stuff and get out. That’s what I get for being nice, right? She took my phone when I wasn’t looking, and did something petty and childish. If you don’t believe me, you can ask Bee or Chris, I called my phone in front of them and confirmed she has it. I have full intentions to retrieve my phone after I drop this letter off and make sure she never comes around me or you or anyone I know ever again. I had no right to say what I said to you about Hayden. I was just angry and upset that you didn’t believe me about Marissa, but I don’t blame you. I wasn’t exactly honest. I have a pretty good idea why you did what you did with him, but regardless, it’s none of my business what you did or didn’t do with him. We weren’t together so you were free to make your own choices.

Y/N, I still care for you. Fuck it. I love you. I’m in love with you. I’ve loved you since the moment I met you. I didn’t want to tell you like this, but I’m afraid this might be the only way. I’m afraid that you’ll be angry with me for a while, and by the time your anger subsides, you’ll be too hurt to want to talk to me. And I’ll understand because I’ll be in the same boat. I’m so in love with you, Y/N, it fucking hurts. Every time I saw you distancing yourself from me, I wanted to scream and beg for you to come back, but I knew that wouldn’t make you stay….I knew you needed to come to me on your own.

Although I love you, I think we can both agree trying to be together has been a tough start. I think we’ve both endured a lot. More than enough heartache to last a lifetime trying to be together. I’m not saying I don’t want to be with you. Far from it. I’m just saying, if you want to just break all of this off and go back to being friends and professionalism, I would understand and respect that.

You once told me you were afraid you’d never be good enough, and I know after all the guys who have left you and broken your heart, that it probably only fuels your fear. I’m going to tell you, you’re more than good enough. In fact, I don’t deserve you. You deserve someone so much better than me and all the assholes you’ve been with. You deserve happiness, and I think by letting you go, I’m giving you that. Selfishly, yes, I would love to be with you, but Y/N...that isn’t fair to you.

Inside with this letter should be a list of contact information and names. I reached out to several people I knew and some new people to gather some info on your sanctuary. Each one of them has a different role that can help you. Basically, I’m giving you the tools to start it whenever you want, they’re aware of what you’re wanting, willing to donate towards it and make it nonprofit and basically it’s ready to go. Everyone I spoke to is on board and supportive of this.

I was going to give you this as a gift, as a sign that no matter what you do, no matter where life takes you, I will always be by your side, happy and supportive. A way to say I was in it for the long haul, no matter what your path was, no matter how many hours your poured your beautiful heart into a project, I will never hold it against you. As I stated though, I feel it’s time I let you go, so you can move on with whoever your heart desires. I wanted to give you this anyway, because you deserve to follow your dreams. Don’t wait too long on them, okay?

I love you.

Pentru totdeauna al tau

Sebastian”

A tear hit the paper as you sniffed. You don’t know when you started to cry, but here were all these salty tears hitting the paper that Sebastian had hand written on. You looked at the other papers and sure enough, there were names, contact info, and what they could do to help you get your sanctuary started.

“You should go to him,” Hayden quietly said.

Your eyes flashed to him, standing across the apartment. You had no idea how long he’d been there.

“Hayden...He...He gave me everything to start the sanctuary and…” you sobbed.

He closed the gap between you, kneeling in front of you, taking the letters away from you, the tears flowing down your face. He wiped the tears away with his thumbs.

“Go to him. I don’t care what the letter said. I don’t care what you think he means. Go find that Romanian bastard, tell him you love him, and for god’s sake, kiss the fucker,” he instructed with a smile.

“But...I--”

“No buts. Go. I’m going to take Rocky for his walk, and when you return, you better be with him.”

You nodded as you stood up, went to get properly dressed, brushed through your bedhead hair, and left, kissing Hayden’s cheek and thanking him.

You drove all the way to his apartment but he wasn't there. You could’ve called him but you were worried he didn’t have his phone and you didn’t want to talk to the evil skank. You called Bee.

“Hey, do you know where Sebastian is?” you asked once she answered.

“Yeah, he’s here at our house. Why?”

“I need to see him. Keep him there.”

“Got it.”

“Thanks.”

You hung up and sped your way through the city to their home. Finally, after a heart racing ride over, you arrived at their house. You launched out of the car, ran up to the door, and knocked. Bee immediately let you in and you saw Sebastian on the sofa, his arms on his knees as Chris sat in the adjacent chair, watching his best friend.

“Y/N?” he asked as he turned to see you and stood up. You wasted no time crossing the wide open floor plan to reach him. As soon as you were within one inch of him, you reached up and pulled his head down to yours as you locked your mouth with his, fiercely. He picked you up and kissed you back. The sensation burning through you as if you were born to do this.

All too soon, he sat you down on your feet, releasing the kiss.

“Does this mean you’re not mad at me anymore?” he asked, the question trailing in the air between you two.

“Sebastian,” you started, laughing through happy tears. “I’m not mad at you any more.”

“And...you want to be together?”

“I would rather spend one perfect day with you and have you break my heart than spend a miserable lifetime without you. I love you, too.”

It was then that he grinned the widest, happiest grin you’d ever seen on him as he picked you up and twirled you before kissing you again. Somewhere, in the background you heard Bee cheering for you both, happy to see that you finally got the man you were destined to be with.

You’d been told from a young age, first impressions are everything. They can make or break a job interview, build up how future friends or lovers see you, determine who can be a fan or not. So yes, a great deal of how you interact and communicate in this world comes from first impressions. Did you know that the moment you laid eyes on the most breathtakingly kind, handsome, caring, sweet, and funny man you’d ever met that you would fall in love with him? Possibly. Did he know it? Possibly.

But one thing first impressions don’t tell you -- and that’s the ending. You never know where you’ll end up based on that first look, that first intake of air when your eyes meet, that first heart stopping moment. First impressions can tell you a lot, but they couldn’t tell you just how inexplicably happy you would end up.

#first impressions #sebastian stan #sebastian stan x reader #sebastian stan fic #chris evans #chris evans fic #hayden christensen #hayden christiansen fic

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peacefulwriter88 · 7 years

Text

Wake Up and Make Up

Angry sex drabble that haunted me all last night so I had to get it out this morning. Can you imagine angry sex with Seb - he’s good boy act is a front!

Warnings: All the SMUT (18+), language but also some fluff

Reader x Sebastian Stan

A/N: This one is for @bucky-plums-barnes because her blog a) rocks and b) she’s an amazing human being that deserves tp receive a random smile!

I also want to tag @sexylibrarian1, @mellifluous-melodramas, @sanjariti, @bladebarnes, @denialanderror and @yesbucky because your blogs literally saved my sanity these past couple of weeks - such a talented group of writers!

You had never been so infuriated in your life. Okay, maybe not your life. Maybe the past couple of weeks...whatever - you were pissed. And it was because of one Sebastian Stan.

You knew it wasn’t his fault. He was a proud working actor. Correction, famous working actor. He was talented and he loved the challenge of a new job. You loved that about him, how he liked to seek out obstacles only to overcome them. That he was motivated. That he kept challenging himself to be a stronger actor - a better person.

But dammit if that wasn’t the same driver that wedged a gap in your goddamn relationship.

You got it. You did PR work for Anthony Mackie. You understood the grind. The demands. The constant need to keep moving. It was what had brought you both together in the first place. He had instantly fallen for the sassy and silly girl that could get Anthony to focus. Anthony - the king of turning any phrase into a practical joke. But Anthony liked you - respected you and yes, at times even feared you.

That kind of power drew Sebastian to you like a moth to the flame.

He liked to challenge it, liked to push you. Liked to dominate you. You liked that also about him. Except when the push was putting off a well deserved vacation for the both of you for another six months. Six goddamn months.

As if you hadn’t postpone your first vacation, instead spending time with him in New York.

You said all of this and he challenged back that when he was free, you easily didn’t sacrifice time with him and you left his hotel room in an angry huff, afraid you’d say something you’d regret. You spent two hours downing too many margaritas before drunkenly making your way to your bedroom, falling asleep to angry drunk tears.

It was what had got you here, 6:30 am in a posh hotel room in Anaheim, California. D23 come and gone, your phone blowing up between Mackie’s manager and Mackie himself. Your head was surprisingly calm considering all the tropical tequila you had inhaled and you groaned as the harsh light of your phone pierced you.

The first few messages were standard - Mackie’s manager reminding you of some upcoming press Anthony was scheduled for and the time that you flight was departing. It wasn’t until you got to the messages from Anthony that you froze.

What did Vanilla Ice do to you now?

He had sent it around midnight, minutes before you had succumbed to your drunken slumber and you groaned. This only meant one thing.

Seb went crying to Mackie.

Fuck.

It wasn’t like Sebastian to share your personal affairs with anyone that you both knew. You both appreciated your privacy and you never wanted the people that you worked alongside professionally to be involved. However, since you had started dating Seb, Anthony had made it his personal business to know what was going on between the both of you. And Seb easily jumped on the opportunity to reach out to him because you were such a mystery to him.

He loved you like a younger sister and wanted to make sure that you were being treated right.

Another text message had come thirty minutes later.

But really, Y/N what did he do. My man is freaking the fuck out. Call me?

A text ten minutes later.

Are y’all about to break up? Cuz Seb is drinking and convinced you want to break up

The last text was simple

Either your passed out…..probably that. Didn’t realize it was one in the morning. That are you're pissed at me or want me to mind my own damn business. So I’ll just say this one thing - talk to Seb. He loves you he really does

You slammed the phone to your side, the anger re-filling you. Loving you wasn’t the problem. The lack of sacrifice and acknowledgement of said selfishness what what had you pissed.

You were so lost in your thoughts that you hadn’t heard the click of your hotel door being opened, the harsh dim light from the hallway contrasting against the soft morning rays peeking its way through your sheer curtains. You turned your head to the side, not surprised to see Sebastian standing there, hair in disarray f as he stood in the jeans and T-shirt he wore the night before.

You also forgot you gave him a key to your hotel room.

“What the fuck do you want? I’m mad at you.”

The words travel across the room crisp and clear and he shuts the door, leaning against it with his hands crossed over his chest.

“I want to finish our conversation last night. I don’t give a damn if you're mad at me. We got to figure this out.”

You snorted, throwing the covers off of you and sitting up in bed. You didn’t miss the way his eyes drunk in your body, your simple black nightie hugging all your curves in the right places. He bit his lip, fighting back a groan. Of course you had to wear the sexist fucking thing as he tried to make amends for the way he had been acting lately.

Insult to injury.

“What’s to figure out. You obviously don’t want to sacrifice any of your time to spend a week with your girlfriend. I don’t know what you want me to say from here. Thanks hon, for being a selfish asshole and reminding me that I mean nothing to you.”

You knew the words were all low digs but you couldn’t help it. You were hurt and you weren’t sure he understood that.

Of course Sebastian did. The words cut through his heart, causing him to close his eyes. When he had talked to Anthony last night, he had been told a similar thing in so many words. He didn’t mean to push you away - it was just what he did when he was afraid and needed time to figure out how to handle a situation.

Time, per usual, was not on his side.

“That’s not - I’m not trying to shut you out of my life. I just have a lot of projects and with Infinity War coming out next year…”

You rolled your eyes, crossing your legs and sighing.

“You act like that doesn’t affect me either. I work for your colleague and friend. Anthony. Might know him. You fucking told him about our fight last night.”

His blue eyes shift before he huffs out,

“I’m going to kill him.”

“He’s not the problem,” you stand up, walking to him slowly. You’re unaware that he’s taking in your legs, imagining what they would look like wrapped around his torso as he fucked you senseless. When you're inches away from him you poke his chest, “You not wanting to spend time with me is the problem.”

“I love you! Of course I want to spend time with you.”

“Then fucking prove it. Go on a vacation with me. Hell I’ll even make it three days. I just want to spend time with you.”

He frowns, knowing that you aren’t going to like his response.

“I don’t know if I have three days to go away with you. Half of it we will spending flying to said location and the other half would be flying back. That gives us less than a day together if you make it three days. That's not fair to you. Don’t you see? That’s why I wanted to spend time with you in New York a couple of weeks ago. It's an easier solution because we both live there and I can spend all of my time devoted to you.”

You throw your hands in the air,

“I get that but I want to, just once, enjoy a place and not work. And I want to enjoy it with you!”

His frown deepens.

“I get that I’m just unsure if realistically that's feasible. Why get your hopes up and then bail on you to have this fight over and over again. When things have slowed down, I promise I will give you the vacation you want. Hell, we can make it a month long vacation.”

You cross your arms over your chest, pushing your breast up and he shoves his hands in pockets, trying to ignore the way his cock twitches.

“I’m not going to bend over when it's convenient for you either! You have to make sure that it works with my schedule.”

“I would.” he mutters uncomfortably, his jaw set and blue eyes blown in fury.

Silence.

You both stare at each other, words failing either of you and your mind drifts. Even though you’re mad at him, you can’t stop your brain from thinking about how fucking hot he looked. The way the dark green shirt molded against his body, hinting at the sculpted muscles underneath. The way his jeans hugged every inch of his lower body, particularly a region you can’t help but allow your eyes to wander down to. You felt your mouth water from the thought of his cock in your mouth and you shift, trying to ignore the pressure building up between your legs.

You knew he was trying. You really did. He went out of his way to come and see you when he could and always made time to call and text you. He sent you random gifts and funny videos. When he was hard press with a decision or just needed you to help talk him through his anxious thoughts, you were the first call.

You just loved him so damn much and he was always so far.

You snap back up at him and he’s looking at you with a half smirk, as if knowing your thoughts. Like hell you were going to admit that you were wrong.

“This is all Mackie's fault.” you mumble and his eyes knit together in confusion.

“You just said this wasn’t Mackie’s fault.”

You smirk, shrugging your shoulders casually,

“If he tried hooking me up with Evans instead of you, I’d probably wouldn’t be having this relationship problem.”

It was a low blow, an unnecessary snarky comment that didn’t need to be said. The button you needed to push him over the edge.

It did.

Before you could react he lunged for you, his hands quickly finding your waist and digging into the soft flesh as he pressed you against hte door, his forehead pressing against your own.

“You think Evans could make you happy?” he mumbles, the anger hidden behind his cool, blue eyes.

The calm before the storm.

He doesn’t allow you to respond, instead lifting you up and pushing himself between you further, your legs comfortably wrapping themselves around his torso. His right hand moves up your thighs, slowly making its way to your center and you know you’re a wet mess before he gets close to confirm it.

His eyes never leave yours as he pushes away the small patch of fabric of your thong, inserting two fingers in you, slowly pumping in and out of you. You bite down on your lip, willing yourself to not close your eyes and give in to the pleasure he was giving you.

Praying that your body wouldn’t betray how turned on you were.

“You think Evans, knows how to make you squirm?” he curls his fingers up, causing you to yelp involuntarily. A smile slowly forms on his face, watching you with hooded eyes as your hands grab his shoulders, your nails digging into the soft fabric of his shirt.

“You think he knows how to make this pretty little pussy sing?” his thumb slowly starts to circle around your clit, teasing you and you whimper, low and needy as you finally submit to the pleasure he’s giving you.

“That’s right baby, I want you to come for me. I want to hear my name come out of that dirty little mouth of yours.”

It was enough. Enough to send your body over the edge and into that place that only Sebastian could get you to quickly. You feel yourself coming undone, your thighs weakening against his torso, your lower half quivering. But before you can reach it, touch that delicious state of happiness, he’s pulling his fingers out, sticking them in his mouth and taking in your taste, moaning around his wet fingers.

You push against his chest, mad that he’s robbed you of the one thing that could get you to forgive him.

“What’s that baby?” he asks, pulling his fingers out in a pop and you groan,

“I want you to finish.”

“Finish what doll. You’re going to have to be specific?”

You growled. He knew how much you loved to be called doll. Knew how much you liked to beg.

“Want you to make me cum. Want to feel you in me.”

“Hmmmm,” he leans in, his lips ghosting over your own and you move in closer only for him to pull back.

“Only good girls get kisses, doll. You’ve been bad. And bad girls don’t get to cum.”

You can smell yourself on him and you're even more aroused, your hips rolling against his causing him to moan. His head falls between the crevice in your neck and he moans, his left hand pulling at the buttons on his jeans while his left hand is pushing down the straps to your gown.

“First you tell me how much you want another mans cock,” his hands are digging themselves deeper into your thighs and you know it will leave bruises. He was marking you, reminding the world of his territory. “Then you demand for me to make you cum. What makes you think a dirty little slut like you deserves the reward of my cock in you?”

His mouth moves to your breast and you arch into him, your hands knotting themselves in his hair. You loved when he did this, talked to you dirty. Took control. Reminded you that you belonged to him as much as he belonged to you. It was part of what made you both so perfect together.

His tongue is lazy as it slowly trails its way down your nipple, taking his time as he suckles the delicate skin. You’re shivering by the time he’s done, your nipple now a raw, hard stub that causes your body to flinch as his beard caresses around it. Sebastian doesn’t stop pumping at his cock, shifting as he bites his way to your other breast.

“Fuck doll, you’re so damn sexy.” his mouth finds his other captor, sucking through the sheer fabric until your nipple is raw and taught against the thin material.

“You’re gonna let me fuck this pretty little pussy of yours,” his hand moves to the hem of your thong, pulling it down low enough to allow him access to your wet center. He runs his hands through your folds, causing you intake a quick break as he collects the wetness matted there, bringing his hands to his face and inhaling you.

“So fucking turned on for me, aren’t you doll?”

You mewl, nodding your hand in compliance. His irises are blown to black, filled with lust as he presses his hard erection between your folds.

“Tell me who you belong to?”

You look him in the eyes before whispering,

“You.”

“And who does this pretty little pussy belong to?” he cups you and you throw your head back before looking back at him.

“You.” you bite your lip as he slowly pushes himself into you. Just a little bit. Enough to have you working your hips into him but he holds you down, his hands resting on either side of his waist.

“What did I say baby? You gotta earn this cock.”

You nod.

“I’m sorry. I’ll wait.”

He gives a low groan, an animalistic sound that thunders down his throat as a smile splays across his face. There was nothing he loved more then when you submitted yourself completely to him.

“That's much better. What are you going to wait for?”

“For you to fuck me.”

“Why?”

“Because I’ve been a snarky little shit.”

He moans, his mouth finding your neck and he lays soft kisses against your nape. It's only seconds before he’s asking in a low whisper,

“Who does this big cock belong to?”

“Me.” you growl this, your nail biting deeper into his shoulders and he moans.

“That’s right doll. I’m as much yours as you are mine.”

And before you can respond he’s slamming against you, bottoming out and causing you to give out an involuntary scream. He doesn’t give you time to recover before he pulls out and slams against you again, causing you to pull his hair back as he repeats this action, pulling back and watching you come undone.

“Sometimes, Y/N, sometimes you drive me fucking insane.” he manages out between gritted teeth and your hold around his hair tightens, pulling him just a little harder that causes him to moan.

“Sometimes I fucking hate you Sebastian.”

He hitches one of your legs higher, catching you in that spot that has you screaming his name in praise and he smiles as he feels your walls tightening around his cock.

“Say it again.”

“I hate you. I just...sometimes I just fucking hate you.” you haven’t recovered from the first orgasm, your body quivering when his thumb presses against your clit and you're seeing white, no chance in keeping your loud screams down, probably waking up the whole hotel screaming out his name.

He watches you come undone around him, taking in the way you cling to him, the sound of his name getting caught in your throat as his pace quickens, his hips slapping against you in a frenzied mess. He locks eyes with you, his eyes frenzied with lust but something more. That soft way he looks at you after being away for a long time, the way he looks when your name is brought up in casual conversation. That look of love that's only reserved for you.

“I hate you because I love you so damn much Seb. Love to hate you because i couldn’t imagine my life without you.”

Your voice is hoarse as you manage to whisper it out but he catches it and it's all he needs to come inside you, head thrown back as your name escapes his lips, singing you praises.

He was the most glorious when he was like this - giving all of himself to you.

You wait for his body to calm down, to calm his shivering frame as he clutches onto you tightly and you bring your lips to his ear, caressing his back as you whisper,

“You know, I really do love you. I’m just afraid that I’ll lose you.”

He pulls away far enough to look at you through sleepy eyes and presses his forehead against your own,

“If you only knew how much I love you,” his voice cracks as he grips you harder, “I can’t - I don’t know how to….” he stops at a lost for words and you know his internal battle. For you, he was the one. You knew he felt the same.

You both were just too damn stubborn to admit it. But you knew.

He recovers and says,

“I’ll….work on not being a selfish asshole.”

You smile, not realizing you had been crying until you feel a tear run down your cheek. He wipes its away, placing a soft kiss on your lips. When you pull away you can’t help but smugly say,

“That’s all I wanted.”

He snorts, shaking his head as he carry's you to your bed. He lays you down gently, throwing his shirt off and laying beside you, his arms drawing you close to him.

“I love you.” he mumbles before sleep wins and he’s softly snoring next to you. It's only seconds before you feel a soft vibrate against your thigh, and you dig in your covers to recover your phone. Its another message from Anthony.

Way to way wake me and everybody else up with your goddamn makeup sex. I assume all is well?

You smile, sending a quick text before throwing your phone on the night stand and falling asleep.

All good here Mack. Thanks for having our back. <3

#Sebastian Stan #anthony mackie #drabble #peacefulwriter88

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