#and seb is always curled up on the countertops | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

sinsofsummers · 4 years

Text

Quarantine Kisses

Request: n/a

Pairing: Sebastian Stan x Reader

Word Count: 2.56k

Summary: You’d only gone to New York for a job interview. Who knew a weekend would turn into a quarantine with an old friend?

Warnings: none, just fluff!

Note: keep in mind, this is completely unedited. i just felt like posting a full-length fic for once. i have no idea if it’s good or not.

in other news, i hope everyone is doing well considering these dire circumstances. i sincerely hope this fic will take away some of your anxiety/stress, at least for a few moments out of your day. we’re all going through this together, friends. we may be physically isolated, but that doesn’t mean our minds are in different places. we are still one.

(gif not mine, from erikisright)

Self-isolation, you had decided, was not your thing.

The endless hours of staring into space, or at a blank wall, or at the precise spot on the ceiling where the paint had chipped away, were taking a toll. You weren’t sure how much longer you were going to be able to stand this. Even if it was with Sebastian.

In truth, it wasn’t supposed to end up like this. You weren’t supposed to have spent more than a few days with him. A week, at most. Your trip to New York had started as simply a job offer, traveling from out of state to pursue an opening for a publishing company you were eager to work for. To be quite honest, that was all you’d had planned for yourself. In the beginning.

Somewhere along the planning process, Sebastian had reached out. He was an old friend, someone you’d met through distant connections elsewhere. When you’d first met, you had to admit, he was charming and sweet and the easiest person to talk to in a room full of people. But you two had never become close friends to the point of really talking all the time. Time had passed since the last time you’d seen him, and after a while, it started to feel like your friendship was a thing of the past.

On that unexpected day, however, it seemed you were proven wrong. Sebastian rarely texted you to begin with, but your phone had buzzed, and when you looked at the screen, it was a message from him. It was a simple greeting, asking how you were and mentioning that he wanted to catch up, but it made you smile nonetheless. You’d forgotten about him, as your life had begun to move swiftly, almost tripping you up a couple of times and leaving you face-down on the pavement.

After texting back and forth, hesitantly growing more comfortable with each other and returning back to that place of near-friendship from years in the past, you broke the news that you would be in New York.

“Oh, really?” He’d replied quickly, his voice lilting in surprise. “That’s great, how long will you be here for?”

You had pondered the question. “I mean, probably just the weekend, but I’m pretty flexible. I don’t exactly have a job that’s tying me down,” you chuckled lightly.

Sebastian cleared his throat. “Well, you know, if you end up having any extra time—I don’t know what your schedule is gonna look like—if you want, you know, we could, uh, go for drinks or dinner or I could show you around the city...if you want?”

You can still vividly remember how hard you had to bite your bottom lip to keep a teasing giggle from falling from your lips. He was just as you remembered: fumbling over his words in the most endearing way possible. You couldn’t help but nod. “Yeah, I should have some free time, why not?”

And that was that. You’d gone to New York, you’d gone to the interview, and then you had a few days to yourself. A few days that, you hoped, would be well spent. Thanks to Sebastian’s easy smile and kind words, they were very well spent.

On the last day of your trip, however, was when the quarantine was announced. You’d been safe, keeping your distance from others, wearing masks wherever you went, but it wasn’t enough. You were staring down a dark tunnel of isolation, not knowing when it would end.

“I should get back home,” you’d announced that morning upon hearing the news. “It’s better for me to be back there before anything else happens.”

Sebastian had other ideas, though. “I don’t know, is that really a good idea? Flying right now? They’re canceling flights left and right, do you even think you’d be able to get one?” He was leaning up against the countertop in his kitchen, the two of you hanging out and having a cup of coffee.

You’d shrugged. “I mean, I guess. I didn’t really plan for this, though. I mean...financially,” you mumbled, your thoughts falling from your lips rather than staying in your head like you’d meant for them to. Shit, your subconscious cursed. Why’d you say that?

It was practically inevitable, the softening of Sebastian’s features as he looked at you with his arms crossed, the epitome of sympathy. “Hey, I mean...you can stay with me. You won’t have to pay a dime. Well, unless you ask me to do your laundry,” he added with a shy grin.

You furrowed your brows. “Isn’t that against the point of this quarantine? We hardly know each other anymore, aren’t we supposed to isolate with people that we live with?” His offer was tempting, you could admit, but it was wildly unreasonable.

Sebastian simply shrugged. “Why not? It’s not the ideal situation, sure. But how else are you going to get home? You don’t have a car with you.” Holding up his hands upon seeing your uncertain expression, he continued, “You don’t have to, I’m not forcing you to stay. I just wanted to offer an alternate option, that’s all.”

“No, that’s nice,” you nodded, looking down at your dark coffee, “really. What other choice do I have, you know? Like, are they gonna close down the state borders? How long is this gonna be? Weeks? Months?” It was unprecedented, historic, and you were stuck in New York, rather than your own home.

You’d always thought that when the apocalypse happened, you would be sitting on the couch in your living room, sucking on Jolly Ranchers. Instead, you were thousands of miles from home in the kitchen of a man that was hardly a close friend. It was almost poetic how fucked up everything had become so quickly.

Sebastian had merely shaken his head, sucking in a deep breath and squinting his eyes as he formulated a thought. You couldn’t help but notice the way his nose scrunched in concentration. “Well,” he said, obviously trying to offer some sense of reassurance, “you know, it could be just a couple of weeks before it’s over. Who knows?”

But even as he’d said it, the both of you knew it wasn’t true. You’d looked up at him, sitting down in a chair while he stood across from you, the same expression of doubt on your faces. You had your living situation figured out, but for how long would it have to last?

Who knows?

— — —

“Sebastian!”

The water stopped running in the kitchen. “Yeah?”

“Am I allowed to change the channel?” You asked, eyeing the ceiling as you awaited his answer. You knew the answer would be yes, of course, but you’d found over the last month that it gave you great joy to watch him squirm a little bit.

Sure enough, his head popped around the corner, cocking an eyebrow. “Yeah, absolutely,” he nodded, “I don’t care. Watch whatever you want, I’m just finishing up in here.”

Grinning, you grabbed the remote triumphantly and began searching for something else to watch. “Don’t be too long, Seb,” you teased smoothly with a slight smirk, “I’m getting lonely in here.”

He’d already gone back to the kitchen to finish cleaning up dinner, but you could practically see the blush that was no doubt emerging on his cheeks. “Yeah?” He called, a smile evident in his voice. “I thought you’d be sick of me by now.”

“Never,” you answered as he came back into the living room, “not a chance.” You had to admit, it was easy to become distracted by his easygoing personality and charming smile. In fact, it was at that very moment that you couldn’t stop looking at the way his sweatshirt hung on his shoulders, his sweatpants hanging on his hips perfectly. As per usual, he was wearing that blue baseball cap that hid his brown locks from your view. And he was absolutely divine.

He sat down beside you, just close enough that his knee brushed your socks, as you were sitting curled up on the couch. “What are we watching now?” He asked, stuffing his hands in his pockets. As the loud theme music boomed from the speakers, you failed to hold back a boisterous laugh at his jerky, shocked expression. “That 70s Show?” He asked, a growing smile on his face. “God, I love this show!” He looked at you with such a wide smile that crinkled the corners of his eyes and created the deepest dimples in his cheeks that you had to look away.

With the comedy show playing, your socked feet gently pressed against Sebastian’s leg, and the easy silence between two strangers-grown-friends, you changed your mind.

Perhaps self-isolation was your thing.

It was dark rings left by coffee mugs long forgotten by time, it was scratchy blankets curling under your feet to hold in the most warmth. It was old movies playing on repeat as background noise to distract you from the earsplitting silence in your mind. It was subtle glances and fleeting touches, a fingertip here, an elbow there. It was savoring the trips down to the end of the driveway to roll out the garbage cans, it was relishing in the feeling of fresh air, untainted by Bath and Body Works candles.

But most of all, it was catching him watching you while he thought you didn’t know. It took everything in you to maintain a straight face, but all you wanted to do was stare right back into those bright blue eyes that were in your mind all the time, even when you closed your eyes. Oh, how you wanted to look deep into those eyes and listen to every sentence he had to say, his calming voice reverberating off of the walls of your head. You could listen to that man speak all the time, and you would if it were possible.

All thoughts of going back home after the quarantine was lifted had dissipated. All that shamelessly filled your head nowadays was the thought of letting your hand linger against his for once, instead of pulling it away so quickly. His hands were so soft, his skin smooth in a way that made you want to curl up under a hundred blankets and sleep, knowing he existed.

Of course, it had only been around a month and a half. You’d spent so much time together, you’d talked into the late hours of the night and early hours of the morning, yes, but that was only due to circumstance. In the real world, a month of contact only amounted to a week. This attraction you felt, it was all very fast, coming over you in a wave so overwhelming that you hardly knew when it had. You weren’t quite sure what it was like to not feel his eyes on you, to feel the urge to look right back at him and ask, please kiss me, goddammit.

It was now the middle of April, and the two of you were (yet again) on the couch, winding down from a busy day of doing nothing by watching That 70s Show. You’d become distracted a long time ago, trying your best to keep your eyes on the screen but being unable to stop looking at Sebastian.

Sebastian and his damn baseball cap.

He noticed you staring. You knew he did because his lips curled up at the corners, just slightly. Instead of looking away like you were used to, he turned his head and planted his blue eyes on yours. “Do I have something on my face?”

Blushing furiously, you shook your head. “No,” you whispered. “I’m just looking.”

“Mind if I look back?” He asked smoothly, adjusting himself on the couch so he was facing you fully.

Unable to find words, you fell silent and simply shook your head. Your hands were in your lap, thumbs fiddling in a desperate attempt to calm your nerves as you realized, we’re really close. It was true; your knees were touching as you both sat cross-legged on the cushions.

The two of you went on like this for a few minutes, the noise of six teenagers falling on deaf ears. You were engrossed in each other, every sense of discomfort or awkwardness gone in a matter of seconds. This was the result of weeks spent with each other. An unexpected experience that, looking back on it, you wouldn’t dare change.

“Hey,” you said softly, breaking the silence. “Are you ever gonna show me that head of hair you’ve got?”

He smiled gently, a breathy chuckle escaping his pink lips. “That depends.” He’d leaned closer, you could tell. You could see every speck and sparkle in his eyes now.

“On what?” You breathed, hardly able to keep still.

Sebastian’s grin was contagious as he shrugged and replied swiftly, “If you’ve got the guts to go for it.”

Your chest collapsed at the teasing smirk that he displayed, leaning so close to you that you could brush your lips against his. And oh, how you wanted to. You carefully lifted your hands from your lap so as not to disturb this aura of tranquility that surrounded the two of you. One hand reached up to the brim of his hat while the other hovered over his knee. Slowly, you lifted the hat away from his head, savoring the way his eyes fluttered shut at your touch.

His hair, though matted and lacking any sort of volume, was fluffy and soft, curling around your fingertips. You ran your hands through the brown locks, addicted to the shaking breaths that fell from Sebastian’s lips, his pink, plump lips that were so ravishing.

At this point, you were so close that it was almost a disservice that you didn’t kiss him. Still, you whispered, “Can I kiss you?” It was the quick, childish nod that had you weak in the knees.

With your hands in his hair, at the back of his head, you tugged him into you and pressed your lips cautiously against his, your own eyes closing. Immediately, it was like you breathed a sigh of relief. His lips were so warm, so soft, and so perfect that you could have cried.

He kissed you back with the same gentle innocence of a teenager and their first kiss, endearingly clumsy. His lips slid against yours easily, his hands curling fists into your shirt and pulling you into his lap, your legs straddling his hips. You almost let go of his hair and spread your hands to his shoulders, his strong back, but when you delivered an unintentional tug at his roots, the deep breathy groan that he released into your mouth had you melting.

Sebastian had his hands all over you, sliding up and down your sides, curling around to hug you closer to him, moving up your back to tug on your shoulders, resting on your hips with gentle squeezes here and there. You couldn’t believe you had waited a whole month and a half to do this.

Again, maybe quarantining wasn’t the worst thing you could imagine.

He finally pulled away, his eyes closed but his forehead resting against yours. “You getting sick of me yet, sweets?”

You smiled at the nickname. “Never,” you whispered, lifting your head to press your lips to his forehead. “Not a chance.”

#sebastian stan x reader #seb stan fics #sebastian stan fluff #quarantine fics #quarantine writing #sebastian stan

183 notes · View notes

santana-maribel · 4 years

Text

who: @santana-maribel and @finnsterhuddy. where: santana & quinn’s apartment. when: monday 30th March. what: two morons make grilled cheese and fate intervenes once more to fuck up santana’s thirsting. warnings: nada.

Finn arrived to Santana and Quinn's apartment, a bag with grilled cheese ingredients in one hand. Not to repeat the same mistake as last time, he only brought enough ingredients for two sandwiches each, as he left a whole loaf of bread and an unopened pack of cheese at Rachel's. He knocked on the door, feeling slightly nervous although he wasn't sure if he had anything to be nervous about. Flirting with Santana was, to say the least, a highlight of his day, and he was intrigued to know if she had any motives behind it or if she was just simply being herself. Either way, he had always liked her company despite not having had a lot of it. "Hey. Ready for some grilled cheese?"

It was weird, one day Finn existed only on the edge of her radar. He was just her greek life partner, Sam's roommate. Then all of a sudden, Santana found herself with a pull towards him, something she couldn't explain or control. She'd slipped out earlier, bought a couple of six packs at the grocery store. She'd briefly remembered seeing him with the brand she'd bought, at the disastrous sleepover the previous week. So that's what she got. She was trying to impress him a little, not that she'd admit it. The apartment was quiet, as she paced around the kitchen, resisting the urge to look at her cellphone again, when there was a knock at the door. She opened it and looked up, smiling softly at him. "Come on in, make yourself comfortable," she requested, closing it behind him.

Finn stepped inside the apartment, once again in awe of how much higher standard these other apartments held compared to his and Sam's. "Should I leave this in the kitchen?" he asked, holding up the bag with groceries.

She nodded and made her way into the spacious kitchen, gesturing for him to follow her. "You can put it in the fridge or leave it on the counter, it's up to you," she suggested, as she leaned casually against the island countertop. "There's beer too."

"Cool, I'll just leave it in the fridge for now, just in case," Finn decided, leaving the bag as is in their fridge. He wasn't sure if he should be drinking at this point, but a beer couldn't hurt, right? Plus, it seemed like a casual hang-out enough to be chill about it. He grabbed a beer while he was at it. "So, about that fried chicken?"

"Pass me one too, would you?" she asked, stretching her hand across to him to take the beer. If you can't beat 'em, join 'em. She reached into the utensil drawer for an opener, flicking the cap off of her own and then passed it to Finn to use. "Next time. I need to buy a pot big enough to actually fry chicken or a deep fat fryer. But I promise, it'll be the best chicken of your entire life," she gave him a cheeky wink at the end of her sentence.

Finn grabbed another beer and slid it over on her side of the countertop. "Thanks," he said as he accepted the opener, flicking off the cap on his bottle. "You telling me you haven't been making fried chicken here yet? Disappointed." He let out a small laugh, shaking his head in faux disapproval. "Is this why you're making me come over, to make you food?"

She shook her head back at him, "I normally go to Sam's, well your place to do it, but I guess I haven't for a while," she laughed, feeling her face turn a little pink from embarrassment. Oh well, it was just another excuse to hang out, wasn't it? "I made you come over because i'm craving a grilled cheese and I heard a rumour that you make the best ones," she teased, before taking a large gulp of her beer.

“I would’ve been all over it if I had been there for it,” Finn said with a certainty. He was happy she wasn’t totally disgusted over his grilled cheese - although he couldn’t understand why anyone would be. All due to his unconventional, yet genius method. “You’ve requested the right man,” he declared in a darker, goofy voice. “You want one now or do you wanna chill for a while?”

She nodded in agreement, he would have been all over it if she'd been around their apartment and making food recently. She made a mental note to check in with Sam later, now that she was done busting his balls about body shot-gate. "We could chill, finish our drinks, it's been six minutes and no one has interrupted us," she teased, as she breezed past him to walk into the living room, brushing against him slightly as she did. "I've got a good feeling about tonight."

"That's pretty crazy," Finn nodded at Santana's observation. It had been a running joke between them that started at the frat rushes and later at the mixers with her sorority, and while it was funny at first, it slowly became more and more frustrating that they never really got to talk before someone interrupted. "Don't jinx it though, Quinn's gonna come home in any second now." His face plastered with a grin, he followed Santana into the living room, taking a large swig off his beer. "So, West Side Story, huh? Didn't know you were into musicals."

The inside joke about being interrupted was one of the most irritating things in her life at that time. It seemed that fate intervened, every single time they tried to get to know each other better. Maybe they were cursed. She shook her head, as she plopped down on the couch, curling her feet under her. "Quinn is with Jesse, date night before rehearsals start, so no interruptions there. Unless Sammy decides to double down on the other night and burst through the door," she laughed, although her eyes did flicker towards the wooden frame, if only for a moment. She shrugged at his comment about the musical, "it started as just something to do but now i'm kind of into it. I like to sing and obviously as a raging narcissist, I love the attention," she explained, taking another large swig from her beer bottle.

"I see," Finn said nonchalantly, his heart skipping a beat knowing that they--or at least Quinn--weren't happy as she had confided in him. In a sense, he should've been happy about it considering he had been brewing feelings for the blonde the past few months, but he couldn't bring himself to be that selfish knowing his friends' relationship was on the line. He let out a faint, heartless chuckle, too caught up in his head to react to Santana's comment. "Yeah." He snapped out of his thoughts, turning to face Santana as she spoke further. "I'm not sure I've heard you sing properly, or at least in a performance kinda way. Glad I said yes to run lines with you, maybe I'll get to hear you sing."

Santana narrowed her eyes at him, watching silently as the wheels turned in his brain. She wasn't sure what he was thinking about, only that it gave her a strange sort of sinking feeling in her stomach. Her fingers traced over the silver scar on her left arm, a nervous habit that she'd had for as long as she could remember. No memory of how she got it, just that it had always been there. She nodded, now a little absentmindedly as he spoke. "Yeah, I mean it'll be fun. I'm just glad you said yes, Rachel, Jesse, Kurt, Blaine, they're all super into it, you'll be more fun," she smiled at him, before draining the remaining liquid in the bottle. "I'm gonna grab another."

"They'd scare you off," Finn chuckled half-heartedly as he took another sip of his beer. "Glad to hear you have faith in me to not be crazy about it." He nodded as she announced she was getting another beer. "Grab one for me too?"

"Yes they would," she readily agreed. She loved her friends but their intensity was a little much at times. Which was why she could find solace in a quiet, chilled night with a handsome man. Santana nodded as she rose from her spot and carried her empty to the kitchen. Out of sight, she took a moment to suck down a greedy breath of air, calming herself. What the fuck was going on? Why was she this flustered by Finn goddamn Hudson? Unclear. She grabbed two bottles and the opener and returned to the couch, springing the caps off of them. "So you're serious about leaving the frat then?" she asked, settling her beer on her thigh.

Finn leaned back in his seat, letting himself get comfortable on the couch while waiting for Santana. It was pretty nice getting this quiet, alone time with her, considering they never made the time to do so otherwise. It felt comfortable, safe, almost as if he kinda belonged in a weird way. He didn't exactly understand why - it wasn't like he really knew her that well. But yet, here he was, feeling almost more comfortable with her than he did with himself. "Thanks, San." He sat up a little, clearing his throat before speaking. "Uh, yeah, I think I am. I have to convince Seb and the rest of the boys that I'm not doing it because I wanna leave them, which is gonna be hard because they already gave me so much crap for moving in with Sam," he sighed, taking a large, final swig of his first bottle before moving on to the next. "It sucks a lot, but it's for the best. At least for me."

She nodded understandingly. It was no secret that she wasn't super into her sorority either, so she understood. Like a lot of things in Santana's life, rushing a sorority had just been something to pass the time. "So you told Seb then? How did he take it?" she asked, remembering how irritated the other man had been when Finn moved out. She couldn't really be bothered with him giving a pissy attitude over this. "Like I said though, you gotta do what's best for you," her voice trailed off at the end, before piping back up softly, "I'll miss you, really. If it wasn't for you swooping in and saving me at that first mixer, I would have got paired with that super senior, the grabby dickhead." It was a sweet memory now, lanky freshman Finn slipping in front of her, saving her from getting her tits squeezed like a stress ball, under the thinly veiled excuse of hazing.

"Not good," Finn groaned, shaking his head at the thought of Sebastian and the other guys condemning and icing him out from their lives. If it did any good, it proved that they were never real friends to begin with. "Yeah, that guy was a total dick. Pretty sure he got kicked out of school too," he reminisced. Honestly, he didn't remember too much from that first mixer, but he did remember thinking Santana was hot and didn't at all deserve to be harassed by that awful dude. It made him smile knowing she had remembered it, though.

She didn't say anything about Sebastian's shitty attitude towards him instantly, just nodded and took a sip of her drink. She didn't need to hear anymore than what he had said to know exactly the mood her best friend would be in. Deciding she had mulled over it long enough, she reached over and squeezed his hand with her own. "Seb will come around and if he doesn't, if it's any consolation, you'll still have me," she gave a soft smile. "But who's going to save me from sex offenders now?" she teased, leaning over to prod him in the ribs with her other index finger.

Finn felt a smile creep onto his face when he felt Santana’s hand in his, squeezing hers in return. “Thanks,” he said softly. “Sorry—“ He jerked to the side as her finger poked his ribs, letting out a short, breathy laugh. “You’re on your own. Or maybe Seb can scare them off.” Shrugging, he took a sip of his beer. “You hungry yet? Let’s make some grilled cheese.”

If she believed in that shit, she could have sworn that her heart skipped a beat the minute he squeezed her hand back. But she simply shrugged it off, laughing alongside him when he reacted to her prod. She nodded, she was actually quite hungry. She'd almost forgotten the bullshit reason that she had made up to get him to come over. "Sure," she agreed. She took another quick gulp of beer for courage or whatever, she didn't know, but the ice cold alcohol was welcomed. She stood up and walked into the kitchen, setting her beer on the counter, before hopping up beside it, crossing her legs at the knee.

Finn got up and walked into the kitchen alongside Santana, opening the fridge to get the ingredients. "Why don't you get me an iron and some tin foil and I'll show you the greatest way to make a grilled cheese?"

Santana nodded, pointing towards the drawer closest to Finn. "Tinfoil is in there, i'll go grab the iron," she chirped, hopping down off of the counter to go to the laundry cupboard in the hallway. She wasn't someone who ironed often, so really it didn't matter if the iron got all messed up anyway. Lifting it off of the shelf, she wrapped the cord up tightly and brought it back to the kitchen. "Your tool," she giggled, handing it over to him, before resuming her position on the counter top, the almost empty beer in hand.

Finn went to the drawer she pointed to, grabbing the tin foil and making sheets for each sandwich. He began doing his thing - buttering the bread slices on both sides, though lighter on the side touching the foil, then putting two slices of American cheese on one slice per sandwich. He assembled them, packed them in the foil and waited for Santana to return with the iron. "Awesome. Get ready for some epicness," he announced, turning the iron on and waiting for it to get warm. "This doesn't look bad, does it?"

If someone had told her a month ago, that she'd be sitting on her kitchen counter, throwing back beers and waiting on a grilled cheese with Finn, she would have laughed in their face. But the world had a funny way of surprising her. She watched, biting the inside of her cheek to keep herself from laughing at just how serious and methodical he was, as he assembled the sandwich. "No, it looks pretty good," she admitted.

Not even a week ago, Santana just about refused to try his grilled cheese or even believed it could be any good. Yet, she somehow had changed her mind, much to Finn's surprise (but excitement, nonetheless). Truth be told, his grilled cheese wasn't that unique, which everyone probably thought it was due to the way it was made, but he wasn't going to tell anyone that. "Right? People think I'm doing this to be weird, but honestly, it's just a convenience thing. It became a habit when my mom would use the kitchen and I would crave a grilled cheese, so I saw someone make it with an iron on TV and started doing it myself," he told. "And I guess it just kinda became a thing after that. I do know how to make a grilled cheese the usual way, just so you know."

Santana nodded, more bemused than anything else, watching as Finn wrapped the sandwiches in foil and then turned to speak to her about his method. She balanced the bottle on her thigh and listened intently as to how he came about his methods, still stifling a giggle that threatened to escape her. He was so cute and like she had said in her previous texts to him; it made he nervous. A hissing brought her back to earth with a bump and she eyeballed the iron. "I think it's ready to go, Chef Hudson," she remarked, eyes on him as he went to work. This was the most fun that Santana had, had in a long time, it was almost embarrassing how much she was enjoying simply being able to let go of everything else and just enjoy Finn's company.

Finn took Santana's cue and grabbed the iron to put it on the foil-packaged grilled cheese. "If you're new at this, you should hold the iron while it's on the sandwich. But you know, I'm a pro, so," he teased, laying the iron carefully on the sandwich and letting it rest on it for 30 seconds. "You should try the next one, if you want."

"Are you sure that i'm ready?" she joked, watching as he placed the iron on top of the little silver package that he'd made. Her stomach grumbled a little, as she waited for the sandwich to be ready. "Thanks for coming over and feeding me," she smiled at him. It was undeniably comfortable with him here. For some reason, it felt like he belonged. The thought made panic run through her body and she drained the rest of the golden liquid in her beer bottle.

Finn flipped over the sandwich, repeating the same steps with the other side. "I think you are," he encouraged, flashing a cheeky smile as he took the iron off the sandwich. "It's gonna be a little hot, so you have to be careful." Slowly, he took off the foil, revealing his infamous grilled cheese. The bread had browned slightly, but not charred, and the cheese had just begun to ooze out the bread. "Can you get me a knife?"

Her stomach grumbled again and she rubbed it soothingly, ignoring how her stomach then lurched when he shot her a devastatingly handsome smile. She nodded, watching as he unwrapped the foil to show her the sandwich. It looked absolutely to die for, she thought inside her head. Santana lifted a knife from the block on the counter next to her and held it out for him to take. "It looks really good," she acknowledged.

"Thanks," Finn said, grabbing the knife and cutting the grilled cheese in halves. He picked up one half for Santana and the other for himself. "Cheers. Hope you like it."

She took the sandwich from Finn and smiled at him, before she raised it to her mouth and took a large bite. Maybe it was the fact she was several beers deep, or the fact that she was battling a weird, out of nowhere infatuation with the boy next to her; but the grilled cheese might have been the best thing she'd ever eaten at that moment. "It's so good," she groaned through mouthfuls.

"Right?" Finn was truly excited that she actually liked it, but he never really doubted she would. It was a classic grilled cheese, after all. He took a last swig of his beer before handing the iron over to Santana, signalling her to try the next one. "Give it a go."

She sat the iron down on the counter for a moment and hopped off of her make-shift seat, slotting in directly next to him. She'd never quite realised just how small she was standing next to Finn and she lifted the foil wrapped sandwich and placed it in front of her. Heeding his original warning, she lifted the iron and held it on the sandwich, not letting her hands move from it, her tongue poking out a little in concentration. If she managed to screw this up, he'd never let her live it down.

Finn took a large bite of his sandwich, stepping carefully behind Santana. “If you want, you can put a little pressure on it too,” he said, gently laying his hand on top of hers to press the sandwich down. It felt nice being this close to her, almost as if it was something familiar instead of new, despite not having been close to her like this before. “Like this.”

If she thought she was in trouble before, when he was simply near her, Santana wasn't entirely prepared for Finn to step behind her, press his body into hers and clasp his hand over hers. Her entire brain was in panic mode now, as she kept her eyes down, ignoring how right it felt to have Finn grasping her hand. "Like this," she repeated, thumb brushing against the side of his hand.

Finn had always enjoyed flirting, knowing he had a charm that seemed to work most of the time. It was fun, easy and harmless. With Santana, it felt different and he couldn't point his finger at exactly what it was that was different. He never really thought about having real feelings for Santana, despite acknowledging that she was stunning, smart and a lot of fun to be around. But maybe that was what he was feeling now, or? "You're doing good," he said in a low voice, leaning in closer to the girl.

She'd been teetering a line with Finn recently, one that like him, she couldn't explain. Even Sebastian, her best friend and current bed warmer, who'd never once got jealous before when she'd been into someone, could tell that there was something different when it came to Finn. She didn't dare turn around to face him, not yet. Her heart was beating so loudly in her chest, she was afraid that he could hear it. "Well, I learned from the best," she chuckled softly, letting out a small shiver as his warm breath hit her bare skin.

With his hand still on Santana's, Finn moved his thumb slightly by instinct to rub her hand softly. He had bent down slightly due to the height difference, his lips inching closer to her face. Was he about to do this? Every bone in his body compelled him to make a move, and it was getting harder and harder to resist. It wasn't like he needed to resist - there was nothing in the way. Yet, he couldn't get a grip on why he didn't just turn her around, lift her onto the counter and finally feel her lips against his. The thought of it made him nervous. Maybe, that was why she was nervous now, too. He could feel his palms starting to sweat, worried that she would sense it too.

Santana was practically frozen, trapped between the kitchen counter and Finn. Not that she minded it at all in the slightest normally, but right now, she was panicking. His hand brushed hers and she let out a soft whimper at the small interaction. She wasn't the kind of girl who considered consequences, she simply just took things that she wanted. And fuck, she wanted Finn. There was no explanation, no reason, she simply just knew that she needed to take a chance and make a move. Yet, she was terrified. This was uncharted territory; a culmination of so many attempts to get to know one another. Now they were alone, with no interruptions, his lips dangerously close to the exposed skin of her shoulders.

It was like the whole world had stopped and it was only the two of them and nothing else. Finn had never really felt that way before, not intensely as this moment felt. This moment felt like a now-or-never kind of ordeal, and if he missed out on taking a chance, he'd never get the opportunity again. They were unfortunate, bound to have their chances taken away from them in a heartbeat, and he was certain he had to act on it now or someone would barge in the door. He grabbed the hand he was already holding, jerking his hand up her arm and swiftly turned her around so they were facing each other and looking into each other's eyes. He moved his hands to her waist, scooting her body closer to his and he leaned down to kiss her. His lips had barely just begun to touch hers when he registered a loud beeping noise coming from somewhere, and he let go of Santana's body the moment he realized why it was beeping. The hot iron on the foil had been lying on it for far too long, and the scent of smoke was becoming more and more prominent. "Crap," he muttered as he quickly removed the iron from the sandwich, waving off the smoke that was forming in front of them.

Time seemed to slow down, as they stood together in the kitchen, fingers lacing together. The room was silent, save for the sound of their breathing, her shallow breaths filling the air. She considered saying something but before she could, Finn’s hands were on her, spinning her around to face him. This was a side of him that she'd never seen before; the take charge and get shit done side. She was definitely a fan of it. His hands moved to her waist and she pressed her body into his, arms moving to circle around his neck. “Finn...” she whispered, eyes fluttering shut as he closed the gap between the two of them. Beep. Beep. Beep. Beep. She could hear ringing and this time, it wasn’t in her ears because of the man in front of her. Her eyes shot open and she glanced up towards the ceiling. The smoke alarm above their heads was beeping, smoke riding from the sandwich underneath the iron. She’d committed the cardinal grilled cheese sin and taken her focus off of the iron. “Fuck,” she groaned, grabbing a kitchen towel and wafting underneath the alarm. The moment was lost.

The smoke alarm going off really slapped Finn back to reality. Dumbfounded, he stood there taking a moment to realize what had happened. Time went so fast, yet simultaneously so slow, but now they were faced with another situation where things got cut off between the two of them, only this time it was due to the lack of attention being paid to the grilled cheese. "I got it," he said as he reached for the smoke alarm, ripping the battery off the device to stop the shrieking sound. "Crazy, huh?" He attempted to chuckle it off, not sure whether to find the situation humorous or not, as the atmosphere was pretty intense just a short minute before.

She'd promised Aubrey that she'd give it one more chance, that she would make her move and see where it led them. She'd done that and once again, they had failed to take it further. It really was like the universe couldn't stand to see them together, couldn't stand to see them explore whatever the flirtation that they had going on. Maybe that was it really, maybe it just had to stay a flirtation. She gave him a half smile and lifted the now burnt sandwich, wrinkling her nose at the smell before she tossed it in the trash can. Part of her wanted to grab his face and press her lips against his, hard, but she busied herself tidying up the mess that they'd made. "Crazy, yeah," she murmured, as she looked over to him, trying to get a read on his thoughts.

"At least we got to eat one," Finn comforted, his genuine attempt at lightening up the mood falling short even for him. "I don't wanna be weird, but I think I have to go. I got a presentation for human development class tomorrow, so I gotta get that finished." It wasn't like he tried to escape this moment, but that was probably what it seemed like. Maybe that was for the best. "It's been really cool hanging with you, Santana. We should, uh, do it again."

For someone like Santana, the feeling of utter humiliation and rejection that was washing over her body, was completely foreign. This wasn't supposed to happen. She stayed silent for a moment before she gave him a half smile. "Yeah, sure," she said quietly. Her appetite for food was lost and she wanted nothing more than to curl up in bed. She was right; he wasn't into her. At least now she had concrete confirmation. They'd almost kissed, he'd ran out straight after it. Hard to find a grey area with that. She helped him pack up his things and walked him to the front door. "Well, you know where to find me, Huds," she offered, in a voice that didn't quite sounds like her own. "Good luck with your... thing," she called after him. Truthfully, she hadn't listened to exactly what it was, just that he was most likely making an excuse to get out of the apartment, quickly and without hurting her feelings. She closed the door behind him and let out a soft sigh, as she leaned against the cold wood. Fuck feelings.

#002.#face to face: finn #face to face.

1 note · View note

captainmarvels · 7 years

Text

safe haven

Summary: Eggsy’s safe haven is in the last place he would’ve thought to look.

Pairing: Eggsy Unwin x Reader

Warnings: Language, angst

Word Count: 1.7k

A/N: This is somewhat rushed, but I just had to get this out, especially after seeing K:TGC. Hopefully you all enjoy this! | masterlist

Love is a vast universe. One so complex and deep, there exists not a single expert of the entity.

How it came to be. If it will survive for all eternity.

Love is a cosmos; one where happiness and serenity exist, right alongside sadness and fear.

Love is not perfect. If it were, people would not fear it. Humanity would run into its open arms, embracing it in their hearts; their souls.

Love is a backstabber. It lies, convincing you that happiness and peace can exist untainted by the terrors of doubt and pain. It tricks you into thinking you will never again know darkness in your heart.

You take love’s word for it; a promise of eternal bliss, in exchange for your heart. Your vulnerability.

When you least expect it, love will take a knife to your heart, a sly cut barely grazing the surface. You won’t know what’s happened, since the pain is minimal. But that’s what love wants. A slow, agonizing pain that grows with every drop of love that escapes your enamoured heart.

Love is pain that not many experience. It’s pain that many wish to never bear witness to. Why?

Love raises you high above the clouds, leaving you to soar in a world of unknown. When you fall, will love be there to catch you?

When you fall in love, it escapes you. It’s fleeting; never within your grasp. For you, love is Eggsy; not always quite there.

You didn’t want to have this argument. Eggsy certainly didn’t. But it had to happen. For better or for worse.

“How long do you think you’ll be?” You ask, your voice quiet as you dry your hands off with a nearby towel.

“Three weeks, tops. I’m sorry, love. You know I wouldn’t do this if there was any other way.” Eggsy’s voice is anything but reassuring as you grip the countertop, the edge digging into the palms of your hands.

“I know you hate it when I leave. But I swear, I’ll make it up to you when I come back. Just wait ‘til I come home, love.”

“You’re already home, Eggsy. Just stay.” You refuse to turn, even when his arms find their way around your waist, gently pulling you against his chest.

His aftershave engulfs your senses, overwhelming every nerve in your body. He was your home, but you weren’t too sure you were his.

“You know I want to, babe. Don’t do this to me.” His voice is soft in your ear, his lips softly brushing against your skin.

“Don’t do what, Eggsy? Ask you to show some commitment to me?” You don’t know where the words came from, but the truth rang out in the silence, clear as day. He’s pulled away from you now, his back leaning against the kitchen island as you stay put, facing the sink.

“I love you, Y/N. Is that not enough commitment to you? We’re together.”

“Yeah. Dating for three years. Just fucking great, Eggsy.” You head out of the kitchen, rushing to your shared bedroom. Eggsy’s quick to follow, his foot stopping the door from shutting in his face.

“What more do you need, Y/N? Is this not enough for you?” He scoffs, rolling his eyes as he makes his way into the room. His words seem to just roll of his tongue without a care in the world. Unfortunately for you, they’ve hit your heart like a thousand bullets.

“Get the fuck out, Unwin. Spend the night at the tailors, for fucks sake.” You say, throwing his suit jacket at him as you storm off into the bathroom. You manage to beat him, locking the door just as he reaches for the doorknob.

You hear a dull thud against the wall, and you know he’s slammed his fist. One hell of a way to send him off.

You slide down against the wall, silent tears rolling down your cheeks. Your chest is tightening with every breath you take, but you don’t know what to do. When did love ever feel like this?

Eggsy’s clearly got something on his mind. It’s the thought of you, in his arms, a smile flashing up at him as he presses his forehead against yours, his lips brushing against your own.

It’s the image of you, cuddling with JB on your shared bed, Eggsy’s pillow in your grasp.

His heart feels like it’s aflame; every thought of you igniting another spark, the fire growing ever more fervent in his chest.

He can’t close his eyes, because your eyes, your smile, your everything is all he can see in front of him. When did he get himself so lost in you?

“You alright, Eggsy?” Harry’s voice sounds from behind the bar, the air of concern sitting around his words. Eggsy sighs, the weight on his chest growing heavier with every passing thought of you.

“I think I’ve gone and fucked it all up, Harry. Big time.” He leans against the bar, resting his head against the cool wood. He feels a hand on his shoulder, and reluctantly looks up to meet Harry’s gaze.

“Humble heart, humble mind. That’s not who you are, Eggsy. That’s who she is.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“You know how they say your life flashes before your eyes as you die?” Eggsy nods, his head tilting in confusion.

“I’ve never had anyone. I’ve never experienced companionship; never been in love. When I die, all I’ll see is nothing.” Harry finishes the martinis he was making, placing one in front of Eggsy. He glances between the drink and his mentor, more confused than ever.

“When you die, who do you think will be the first to flash before your eyes?”

“Be mine.” Eggsy’s got cuts littering his chest, his knuckles bruised and bloodier than ever. You’re sitting on his lap, massive strips of gauze in your hand. His words are echoing in your ears, and all he can do is bite back his tongue as he searches your eyes for something. Anything.

“You mean it, Eggy?” He smiles, the nickname warming his heart. He nods, his eyes never looking away from yours.

“Be mine. And only mine. Please.” Your hands find themselves in his hair, your forehead pressed against his. Your eyes dart between his lips and his gaze, and he can’t help the laugh that escapes him as he darts his tongue out at your lips. You giggle, smiling as he finally kisses you.

At long last.

“The look in your eyes answers that question, Eggsy. You know what you have to do.”

The mission wrapped sooner than planned, but Eggsy decided it was better you didn’t know. He got a new suit fitted, while Merlin went and picked up your favorite flowers. Roxy made sure Eggsy wouldn’t fuck up his speech - “If you say that, I hope she kicks you in the dick, you idiot.” - all while you sat at home, JB curled up on your chest.

You hadn’t been able to sleep much since Eggsy left, but you never did when he was gone.

You spent most of your time sifting through memories - old photos from when you first met, to last year’s Christmas card, starring the only dog who would let you dress him up.

Eggsy was the best thing to ever happen to you, and you couldn’t stand to be apart from him any longer. You reached for your phone, pulling up his number when you heard the lock click. JB perked up, jumping off the bed and scrambling out of the room. You sighed, following the pug out into the once-empty living room. You stopped breathing the moment you stepped out of the room.

Flowers adorned every open space throughout the room, red hearts sitting in every bouquet. You followed JB, picking up every card along the way. Eggsy’s handwriting was scrawled on each one, a different thing written across the heart.

Your smile.

Your laugh.

Your heart.

My home.

Mine.

You read that last card, a tear slipping down your cheek as you smiled at the lone word.

“If you start crying now, I’m going to be one helluva mess, love. Gotta give me a chance here, darling.” His voice comes from the kitchen, and you can’t stop yourself from running into his arms. Running home.

He hugs you tight against his chest, his lips pressing chaste kisses atop your head, muffled confessions of love tumbling out, as if he was running out of time. You pull away, dropping the hearts on the counter as you cup his face in your hands. His emerald eyes are shining bright with bliss, and you can’t stop staring.

“Hey bug. Want to know why I love you?” He whispers, his hands resting on your waist.

“I think the cards told me, Eggy.”

“Well, I think you missed one.” He grins.

“Where is it?” He takes one of your hands from his face, resting it right above his heart. You tear your eyes away from him, confused.

“Your heart?”

“I love you because you are my heart, Y/N. You have been since the moment I first saw you. You always will be, if you’ll have me. Be mine, forever.” You gasp, your gaze meeting his as you take in his words.

“Is that a proposal, Eggy?” He bites his lip, shrugging his shoulders as you stare at him in disbelief.

“A shit one, I know. But I swear, I’ll do better. For you.”

“I love you, idiot. This is better than anything I could’ve hoped for.”

“So is that a yes, love?” You roll your eyes, stroking your thumb across his lips as he watched you.

“I’ll take it back if you don’t kiss me right now, bruv.” You cooed, giggling as he picked you up, setting you on the counter. His lips find yours in seconds, his love dripping from them as he holds you close. Once you finally pull away, he buries his face in the crook of your neck.

“Never let me go.” Your words draw him out, his lips brushing along the skin of your jaw. As he finds his way to your lips, he meets your gaze.

“On my life, darling. Never.”

Sometimes, love finds its way home. Eggsy was finally home.

tags: @retroasgardian, @roamingharlem, @thesaraaaaahpfan, @avengershavethetardis, @buenostardissherlock, @storyofavengers, @imsecretlyromanburki, @cassandras-musings, @nottheopera, @coltcas, @thefridgeismybestie, @callamint, @kaaatniss, @seb-ass-tian-stan-ws, @bootypoppinbarnes, @hollycornish, @h4izel, @charliexowrite, @stevnsbucks, @thewinterswimmer, @damnlokifangirl, @barnesvogue, @sebastian-stans-thighs, @capsheadquaters, @jobean12-blog, @theassetseyeliner, @buckys-fossil @worldsroses@yikesbuckster @mjuikoli @rotisserierogers @buckyappreciationsociety @supernaturaldean67@milychetto @shhhs3cret @avengedqueen26, @this-is-angela-blog, @ohwhatamessiam, @captain-amelia-bradley, @tasting-writers-block @raindancer2004@redgillan @minervaem @buckyywiththegoodhair @barnres @everyrosehasitsthornton @justasunflower@aelin-blackstairs @pillarsofelmundo @lovelynemesis @themanwithovtfear @buchananbarnestrash @a-splash-of-stucky @avengersandlovers

3K notes · View notes

brainrattlers · 7 years

Text

I Hope I Can Handle It (Part 9/?)

Summary: Sequel to “Think You Can Handle It?” - Reader is in a long-distance relationship, and is traveling for the holidays to see her man.

Pairing: Sebastian Stan x reader

Words: 1789

Warnings: Fluffy domestic life. Language.

A/N: Sorry about the delay. Life happens. And I’m exhausted, but I’m trying to get back into the habit of writing a little bit every day. It’s a little shorter than the norm, but hoping to pick the pace up a bit.

(Part 1) (Part 2) (Part 3) (Part 4) (Part 5) (Part 6) (Part 7) (Part 8)

“Hey sleepyhead, did you have a good nap?” Sebastian ruffled your hair in an attempt to wake you up.

As soon as you hit the pillows, and curled up with Seb’s body pillow that faintly smelled like him, you were out. You remembered dreaming, something about helping Mama J set up the new bistro, but you couldn’t place where it was. It wasn’t Y/town. There was much hustle and bustle going on outside, and you remember leaving, walking to a train station. Apparently your brain felt that Mama J should move to New York City. In reality, she’d probably do well there in the right neighborhood… but Mama J called Y/town home. She’d never leave.

You grumbled, still half-asleep after Sebastian’s attempt to rouse you from your slumber. After that workout, the emotional lunch, and well, eating lunch, you were lulled into more of an afternoon coma. Squinting, you stared at Seb, as he just giggled at you.

“What… what time is it? I feel more like ‘what century is it?’”

With a grin, he climbed into bed behind you, spooning you close. Somehow you wriggled around, and faced him, burying your face into his neck. Mental clarity was returning to your foggy brain.

“How was your meeting?”

“Good. I mean, really good. Things are all happening for I, Tonya, getting that all planned out. Last Full Measure is coming up quick too… and then it is off to Winter Soldiersville.” Sebastian continued, getting excited about all of his upcoming projects.

Keeping a brave face, you listened intently and asked questions, but inside it still stung. You were sure he’d feel the same if you started talking about all of your plans once you got back home, how you were going to help out Mama J, how things were going to be so busy but you were excited. You were getting lost in your own thoughts until you were saved by the alarm on Seb’s phone going off, coupled by your growling stomach.

The two of you hopped out of bed, and dinner was the new subject to talk about. Sebastian apparently did some grocery shopping and got some protein that wasn’t in the form of a chicken breast. Pan searing up some salmon, you asked him to hop on the sofa while you took care of dinner. As he was sitting in the overstuffed chair, the familiar Skype phone notification started playing.

“Holy shit! Chocolaccino! What’s up man?”

“Sexy Seabasssss! We haven’t talked in like weeks, seeing what was up! How’ve you been?”

You poked your head out of the kitchen as you swore you heard Anthony Mackie’s voice coming from the living room.

“Good, man, celebrating the holidays, working out, you know how it goes. How are Sheletta and the family? Tell them I say hello! How have the holidays been treating you?”

You heard the two men chatting back and forth, talking about holidays and you were suddenly brought up, considering you’d been there for over a week.

“Oh yeah Seabass, yer girl is there! How’s that going, eh?”

If eyebrows made a noise while wiggling up and down over the phone, you were pretty sure Mackie’s were screaming with how obvious it was. You were pretty sure you could hear Seb’s face turning red too. You heard his shy chuckle, and saw him looking down and away from the screen, then looking at you and smiling big.

“You know she’s in the kitchen, you want to say hi?” Sebastian got up from the chair, bringing the phone with him. “Baby girl, Anthony wants to say hey!”

“I, uh, oh, um hi Anthony, it is nice to meet you,” fell from your mouth as you weren’t quite prepared for that introduction as the phone was shoved in your face as you were cooking some pilaf.

“So this is the one that has taken Sexy Seabass off the market, huh? It is good to finally get to meet you. I’d always wondered what it would take to tame that wild man, good to see him so happy. Well it looks like you’re cooking, so I’ll let you get back to it. I hope we can all meet up sometime though and go out!”

“That sounds great. We’ll have to coordinate schedules sometime. Hope you have a great New Year!”

Seb pulled the phone back and kissed your cheek before heading back to the living room. You felt a little bewildered as to what just happened, but you’re pretty sure a double date with trouble was just set up with Chocolaccino and Vanilla Ice, as they often referred to each other. The men chatted for about another half hour, until you gestured from the doorway that dinner was ready. Sebastian closed out the call, and headed to the table as you put a plate in front of his chair. Starting to gobble down the food, Seb’s eyes closed and he hummed softly.

“Damn babe, I need you to cook for me all the time. This is WAY better than my standard chicken and veggies.”

You smiled and laughed.

“You mentioned that you liked having someone to cook for, to take care of… I feel the same way. Except that you’ll find that I tend to equate expressing love with food, so… yeah. Might need to talk to Don about what you can and can’t eat, or else I will fatten you up if given the chance.”

Sebastian continued to shovel food into his mouth, eating it all up and almost going for seconds until you gave him the eye, telling him there was still a bit of leftover pie. As dinner concluded, the two of you did the dishes together, dancing to some music playing from Sebastian’s phone, bumping hips and the occasional break out of singing along. After putting the last dish away, you tossed the dish-drying towel on the counter, and leaned back.

“Hey Sebby?”

He looked over at you as he closed the cabinet door. “Yeah baby girl?”

“Love you.”

“And I… I love you. You make my place feel like home. I need that feeling sometimes. I don’t know what it is going to be like once filming everything goes full-speed ahead.” He slowly walked over to you, your hips pinned between his and the countertop. “But I don’t want to focus on that right now. I want to focus on the fact I’m not quite tired, and you, well, you slept all afternoon…”

You smirked. “Really babe? Going there?”

“You betcha. How about literally some Netflix and chill tonight? You go out to the living room and queue something up… and I’ll get some pie.”

A quick chaste kiss was shared before you were uncaged, and headed to the living room. Clicking on the television and bringing up the steaming service, you pulled up Stranger Things, and noticed something a little odd. While the two of you had been watching it together previously, it was now wanting to resume two episodes ahead of where you left off.

That ass went ahead and watched ahead without you!

“SEBASTIAN. STAN. HOW DARE YOU, you damn CHEATER!” Your voice rang out shrilly from the living room, leaving the only remaining noise the clattering of a plate on the counter and silverware crashing to the floor.

Sebastian came running from the kitchen, trying to figure out what you were accusing him of, his heart belonged to you and only you.

“YOU WATCHED TWO EPISODES AHEAD WITHOUT ME! I cannot BELIEVE you!” You started laughing, especially with the deer-in-headlights look and his chest rising and falling quickly in panic.

“Fuck, baby girl, you can kill a man with a heart attack accusing him like that. But baby, I’m so sorry… I couldn’t sleep the night before you got here, and so I restarted it from the beginning, and intended to stop… but I fell asleep on the sofa and it didn’t ask if I were still watching until after I was passed out. It apparently went on through two more episodes. I swear though, I don’t know what happened.” He gave you a puppy dog look. “Forgive me?”

You couldn’t not forgive him with that look. He had it down pat.

“Fine babe. But hurry up, I want pie.”

“Baby girl? Forgive me.”

“I already did.”

“No, I need you to say it.”

“Why?”

“Because you’re probably going to have to forgive me again, I might have eaten the second to the last slice of pie while you were napping. There is only one left. We can share it though?”

“Damn it Sebastian, you’re lucky you’re so damn handsome. I can’t be mad when you’re still making that face. Geez, stop! I forgive you already, IF you let me have the first bite.”

He nodded, heading back to the kitchen, grabbing the small sliver of pie on a plate. Cutting off the corner, he sat on the floor in front of you, offering the first bite as a peace offering.

“My queen… if it pleases you.”

You nodded, gesturing for him to give you the fork, or at least put it in your mouth.

“OPEN THE AIRPLANE HANGER, HERE COMES THE AIRPLANE!”

Seb flailed the fork around before it came in for a landing in your mouth. You barely were able to chew and swallow between the laughs. In retaliation, you took a glob of the filling from the plate on your finger and smeared it all over his lips and face.

“Oh that is it, this is war, baby girl!” Seb tossed the plate on the floor and hopped on the sofa, pinning you down. You pulled him in close for a kiss, effectively smearing the fruit all over both of your faces. Looking down at you between smooches, Sebastian finally stopped and busted out laughing.

“Um…” He gestured at your cheek and chin.

“You’re one to talk,” you waved a circle around the entire bottom half of his face. “You got a little something there… Here, let me get that.”

Grabbing a tissue from the box on the end table next to you, you leaned in to wipe it off, and changed the plan, licking a wide wet stripe on his cheek. His eyes went wide.

“You just don’t know when to stop, do you?” Sebastian questioned. “I’m going to get you back. You won’t know when, you won’t know how, but oh, I will get you, lover.”

The words sent a shiver down your spine. He just smirked, sitting up to wipe off his now sticky AND wet cheek. The two of you silently called a truce, although you couldn’t help but feel a bit nervous. What did he have planned? And when?

Tags: @dawn121, @sceaterian, @pennyroyalcreep, @karollbey, @discophony, @imamoose, @skatinginpr0gress, @bluebrrn, @goldwanderer, @alistair-honeywell

#sebastian stan x reader #ihichi #mmmm pie

20 notes · View notes