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sebastiansantana · 3 years

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Introducing SEBASTÍAN SANTANA. Word on the street is he is a CHIEF NEWS ANCHOR at CNN for the past SIX YEARS. Though he is CALLOUS and OPPORTUNISTIC, he can also be GREGARIOUS and DRIVEN. In the chaos of New York City, he is sure to fit right in.

— BASICS.

NAME: Sebastían Domenico Santana NICKNAMES: Seb, Bash, shithead / asshole / malparido ( courtesy of Penelope, probs ) AGE / D.O.B.: 46 / December 23, 1974 GENDER, PRONOUNS, SEXUALITY: Cismale, He/Him, Pansexual ( but publicly, he’s ...yikes... straight ) HOMETOWN: Bronx, NY AFFILIATION: Media ( CNN ) JOB POSITION: Chief News Anchor / Author EDUCATION: Bachelor’s in International Relations ( Princeton University ) ; Master’s in International Journalism ( Columbia University ) RELATIONSHIP STATUS: woof... Divorced ( at least twice ) ; perennial bachelor CHILDREN: One daughter ( @penelopesantana ) ; two former step-children POSITIVE TRAITS: Charismatic, Creative, Studious, Confident, Driven, Gregarious, Efficient, Strategic, Disarming NEGATIVE TRAITS: Self-serving, Callous, Obsessive, Manipulative, Opportunistic, Impatient, Judgmental, Stubborn,

— BIO.

{ tws: divorce, child abandonment, hostage situation, mentions of torture / war, general shitty male tendencies }

In many ways, Sebastían Santana’s life only began the day he learned that he was a father. True, he had existed for nearly nineteen years before then — even had a few accomplishments to his name, which was far more than could have been expected for a first-generation kid growing up in the South Bronx — but he did not become himself until Penelope Jane Santana entered the world as the lifelong consequence he would only ever run away from.

For a man suddenly thrown into a marriage for which he wasn’t ready, in a town too small for his own ambitions, with a child he didn’t know how to love ( much less want ), becoming looked a lot like divorce papers delivered on a doorstep, a one-way-ticket to nowhere, and a veritable lack of an explanation. The latter was a rarity of sorts, given that the power of speech was the one credit he had to his name, honed over the years through the hard-earned Ivy League education he prioritized over all else.

As fate would have it, his one-way-ticket to nowhere was, in fact, a direct path to fame. Dropped in the middle of war zones, Sebastían interviewed soldiers, politicians, and dictators alike, covered international scandals, and made a name for himself as a tireless broadcast journalist unafraid of staring controversy in the face and cutting it down to shreds. His singular drive was not without repercussions, however, and at age 37, he was kidnapped while on assignment and held for seven months by a militant power in a foreign country.

The story that has since been repeated to the public involves the tragic recollection of physical and psychological torture — of begging for his life, of pleading with his captors to return him to his family. The truth of the matter, however, was that this was not his story, but instead that of a no-name photographer who received the brunt of the violence and ended up in a shallow, unmarked grave. When he learned that his captors met similar fates at the hands of an angered American government, Sebastían finally told “his” story, complete with the perfect cherry on top:

“I prayed each night, not to God, but to my daughter — for the chance to see her one more time. She is who kept me alive.”

To date, it’s the best lie he’s ever told on-air, his own words a kind of genie in the bottle with never-ending wishes, granting him all the fame and fortune he could ever want. The lie is cemented in a NYT bestseller, a testament to experiences left irrefutable only because anyone who could contradict him was dead. His success as an author, combined with the need to retire from the field of war correspondence due to later-diagnosed PTSD, lead him to take a job with CNN as their chief news anchor. The role is well-suited to someone like him, perhaps even the best fit for someone with his natural charisma, perennially handsome face, and natural inquisitiveness. It lands him in the beds of supermodels, the ears of politicians, the right-hand seats of those with the power to shape society and culture — each and every one a step away from the closets bursting with the skeletons of his many sins.

— EXTRAS.

RELIGION: Raised Catholic. Agnostic. ( Participates in Catholic traditions for show. ) POLITICAL AFFILIATION: Democrat. LIVING ARRANGEMENT: Lives alone, occasionally hosts former step-children when his second ex-wife is away. LANGUAGES: Spanish (native), English (native), Italian (proficient), Arabic (conversational), French (conversational), Russian (beginner) ACCENT: American, slightly more Bronx-inflected when heavily inebriated. FACE CLAIM: Raúl Esparza. HAIR COLOR: classic salt-and-pepper: a perfect mix of brown, black, and grey. Beard is somewhat lighter, has slightly more brown. EYE COLOR: Green-blue. HEIGHT: 5′8.75″ ( we love a short king! ) MBTI: ENTJ, The Commander. ZODIAC: Capricorn Sun ( technically a sag/cap cusp but...he’s def more a cap ) / Aries Moon / Leo Rising CURRENT INSPS: Steve Jobs, Anderson Cooper, Brian Williams, Alexander Hamilton ( y’all know i’m a slut for LMM ) PINTEREST.

— HEALTH.

SLEEP: Considering how regimented his work schedule is, sleeping occurs at very specific intervals for Sebastían, except on the increasingly frequent nights when something completely batshit demands media attention and he’s forced to sacrifice sleep for work.

FOOD: Absolutely hates having to think about food — if he can get rid of one decision that’s on the exceedingly long list of things to decide upon throughout his days, he will, and food is often the first off the list. Seb’s more the type to snack throughout the day rather than dine properly, and has a mini-fridge in his office filled coffee-flavored Soylent for especially chaotic days. However, he will never turn down a home-cooked meal.

EXERCISE: If running away from his problems counts for anything, he’s exercising nearly every second of the day. Too squirrelly / overwhelmed to spend time in a gym, but can often be found taking a midnight dip in the pool, walking through a park on weekends off, ice-skating when the weather permits as a means of impressing a date.

ADDICTIONS: TBD.

DRUG USE: Aside from the medicine he takes for his PTSD, Seb’s drug use is pretty non-existent, as random drug tests are mandatory at his work. Definitely wishes he could indulge the same way others in similar positions as him manage to, but for now his drug use is kept to the legal stuff: cigarettes and caffeine.

ALCOHOL USE: Woof. Frequent. Goes through a bottle of scotch every other couple days or so. Most assistants know to spike his 3:30pm dirty chai latte with half a shot of whiskey. Definitely in denial about how heavy his alcohol reliance is.

— WANTED CONNECTIONS / PLOTS.

{ full connections page can be found here. clean list of plots is here. both are very much under construction !! }

tws: mentions of ( past ) domestic violence, PTSD, implications of sex.

i. SUPPORT SQUAD » When he came back home from some of the most war-torn regions of the world, Seb’s unchecked PTSD / anger issues resulted in a string of increasingly violent interactions with some former lovers. Since then, however, he’s been in therapy, takes his meds, and ( to a lesser extent because...work and famous man probs ) attends support groups. This connection is for any charas who fit into that sort of vibe, be it a mentor / sponsor, fellow attendees, a current / past therapist, etc. Definitely not opposed to having some of these relationships carry the baggage of when his shit wasn’t in check!!

ii. DAYS OF YOUTH » For the most part, there are few remnants of Sebastían’s early life that he’s chosen to keep around to this day. Those select few can take the shape of a couple different forms: someone who doesn’t absolutely abhor at the idea of him abandoning Pia and Penelope, someone he owes a favor to for reasons TBD, someone he’s secretly been taking care of / watching out for since making it big, etc. Skies the limit, really, as long as your chara is within age range and spent their formative years in New York!

iii. MEDIA CIRCUS » Can go in any number of ways — approval-seeking interns, overworked assistants, rivals both from within CNN or another network, fellow authors, etc. Anyone and everyone connected to the media world is welcome!

iv. NO STRINGS ATTACHED » Condensing the week’s news into a two-hour show is mad stressful, y’all. This is best-suited to someone with a similar schedule to him who’s also just looking for a fun way to release some of that tension. ( I’m definitely willing to discuss offshoot ideas of this, but for the time being, this connect is not really rooted in romance on Seb’s side! )

v. LOVE FOR SALE » The person who accompanies him to events, awards shows, networking dinners, etc., so that he isn’t bothered by questions of his sexuality or relationship status. They put on one heck of a show for the cameras — whether this is because your character is just a great actress or because they actually get along well with Seb, we can work that out! What your character gets in return is also UTP. He’s got access, fame, influence, money, etc., and is certainly the kind of guy who believes there’s always a deal to be made. ( Only open to fem - identifying / presenting characters, as his pansexuality is not public knowledge. )

{ y’all know i’m up for p much anything and everything, so if you are at all interested in writing with bash, just hmu on discord and we’ll work something out! }

#wb.intro #*the curves of your lips rewrite history » ABOUT.#ooc: welpppp here we go again #yet another messy child <333 #general shitty male vibes #more tws listed under the cut #also #do y'all know how hard it was to NOT give him a name starting w 'z'

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ashintheairlikesnow · 5 years

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We’ll Get You Out of Here

In Karen Renford Comes Home, you were introduced to Karen Renford’s own personal Box Boys - Dex, Sebastian, and Peter - and her foster son, Henry.

In this follow-up from Henry’s POV, Henry has a realization - and Sebastian and Peter do, too.

CW: Referenced violence and physical abuse, dehumanization/pet whump. Referenced/discussed whump of a minor/foster care whump (though none occurs directly)

Henry belongs to @spiffythespook and is used with input and approval. Also includes a cameo from @fairybean101‘s Tara.

By the time the timer in the kitchen went off and Sebastian popped in to tell him he could stop, Henry’s back ached from sitting with perfect posture at the piano bench. His throat hurt from singing, and he’d gone through at least four glasses of water even though he’d tried to keep it to sips.

He heard the soft ding! of the kitchen timer - the white one Sebastian had been allowed to pick out for himself one day at Williams Sonoma. He’d come back weighed down with bags, Ms. Renford smiling with pride at the wonderful choices Seb had made. He told them all that the saleswoman only hesitated for a moment before happily helping such a well-kept and polite pet, and Ms. Renford had let Seb pick the dinner menu for a week straight, she’d been so impressed with him.

Henry’s fingers fell to rest over his thighs, and he let out a breath, all at once. The last note he’d played still seemed to echo, faintly, in the air around him.

He hurt, but he was done.

“Time’s up, Henry,” Seb said brightly, wiping his hands on a kitchen towel, standing in the doorway in a cream-colored sweater and jeans, wearing a dark blue full-sized apron. He was smiling, a flash of perfect teeth, the cowlick mostly tamed and his blond hair carefully combed and gelled into a style Ms. Renford would like.

Seb was always sparkling and smiling when Ms. Renford wasn’t home. Honestly, Henry kind of had to admit that all of them were. Peter talked all the time when she was at work, and even Dex’s silence seemed lighter without Ms. Renford there to inspect every move they made.

Henry slowly closed the cover over the piano keys, cracking the knuckles on each hand, feeling the tension in the tendons and bones. For a second, he just sat there. His back ached and his ass was numb and even his toes kind of hurt, today, but after six straight hours, it was hard to have the energy to do anything.

Piano practice wasn’t bad - he didn’t mind it, that or the singing - but he hadn’t sung with proper reverence for the material the last time Ms. Renford had a friend over. At least it had just been some work people and wasn’t her super creepy fucking friend they had to take a plane to see in the absolute middle-of-nowhere, but he’d had to promise to put in six hours today instead of the usual two to get out of any worse punishment.

Ms. Renford was nice to him - as nice as she ever was to anyone, as far as he could tell - but she had expectations, and he hadn’t met them.

Henry had gotten Ms. Renford’s real punishments, like the ones she gave the Box Boys, before - the last time at that stupid gala where that Vincent Shield actor and his pet lib activist girlfriend kept giving Henry weird looks all fucking night.

Just before he was supposed to perform, the girlfriend had grabbed him by the arm and whisper-hissed into his ear you know you’re next, right? and he’d brushed her off, but the thought had been in his head anyway, and he’d dropped the high note in Ms. Renford’s favorite song when he caught the girlfriend watching him.

He’d known exactly how Ms. Renford would punish him for that… and he was seventeen fucking years old, he didn’t want to have to deal with that again before he was eighteen and out, headed off to college, out on his own.

Henry had a good poker face, he always had, but he’d nearly begged her not to. The discipline they used for the pets was the worst and she almost never tried to use the same stuff on him. But… she hated when he begged, and she’d be really pissed if she knew he even thought all the cusswords, let alone said them out loud sometimes. Only to himself, but still.

He ran a hand back through the shock of bright red hair, letting it fall wherever it wanted - she wasn’t here to tell him part to the side, comb across. He wasn’t wearing the clothes she usually picked for him, either, but a simple plain t-shirt and jeans.

She wasn’t here to notice, and he and the others were making the most of the freedom. She’d gotten some kind of phone call a week ago, and said she’d have to oversee the resolution of this particular problem personally.

Ever since then, she’d been working ten or even twelve hour days. Twice in the past week, Henry had woken up after she’d already left for the day and been in his room for the night before she ever came home. He was pretty sure that one night she just slept at work.

She wasn’t here to catch him thinking, again and again, about what the lady at the party had said.

You know you’re next, right?

Karen Renford had always been so kind to him (except, he thought a little bitterly, for disciplining him like he was a fucking pet when he missed notes or screwed up a song or mouthed off to her, which he definitely never did anymore) and he probably shouldn’t be so happy she was gone so much, but…

It felt better, when she wasn’t there.

The house felt warmer, the cold white walls heating up with Sebastian waving his knife around to gesture with while he told stories to Peter, who laughed and laughed when Ms. Renford wasn’t home.

Then there was Dex, who went about his business just the same and kept an eye on them all - especially Henry - but his shoulders seemed less tense and he let Sebastian make Peter vegan food and hang out in Henry’s room sometimes even though he wasn’t supposed to.

“I’m so glad to be done,” Henry said more to the piano than anything else. His voice was hoarse and he winced at the ache in his throat just to speak. Hopefully she would let him skip singing lessons this week, he’d just croak like a frog if he tried. “Six hours is so long.”

A soft clapping made him jump and he looked up to see Dex standing in a different doorway, the one to the hallway where the stairs were. The older man - only a few years younger than Ms. Renford - clapped a few more times, then signed briefly. Henry smiled, feeling a flush of something like pride. Dex almost never gave him compliments - and if he had anything like a father, it was Dex. “Thanks, Dex. Six hours was a long time, but you’ll… you’ll tell her I stayed the whole time, right?”

Dex nodded, signed one more thing, and gave a dismissive wave before moving back down the hall. Henry’s flush of pride, though, lingered.

Dex had told him he sounded excellent today, and that was even more rare than a real smile from Ms. Renford. If he was honest, he’d started caring more about what the Boys in the house thought than her a long time ago. So far, he was pretty sure she hadn’t noticed. And Dex had gotten nicer and nicer to him as he got closer to his birthday.

He stood, hearing his back crack like an old man’s, stretching arms over his head and rolling his head on his sore neck, rubbing at his lower back, trying to pull himself together.

When he wandered into the kitchen, Seb gave him some hot tea with lemon and honey to soothe his overworked throat, told him they’d have soup tonight to help it rest a little more, and Henry thought, this is a fucked-up way to build a family, but I guess that’s what she did.

Just… not a family for herself. Kind of a family for me, though.

Henry had a brother out there somewhere, Trent - he hadn’t seen Trent since he was still a little kid, and he didn’t want to see him. But… it was still nice to have some people he could depend on.

He wondered, when he went to college, if she’d let them write to him. Sebastian and Dex could definitely still read, they had work that meant they had to be able to read. Peter supposedly couldn’t, but Henry had seen him pull books off Ms. Renford’s bookshelves when he thought no one was looking. He never saw Peter reading them, but they disappeared and reappeared and he was sure that, somehow, somewhere, Peter was reading.

He sat at the table sipping his tea and watching Sebastian work, pulling a large white ceramic bowl with a damp towel laid over the top out from a specially-made cupboard. Three hours ago, he’d put a ball of dough in there the size of Henry’s head, give or take. Now, he laid onto a floured countertop something nearly triple the size, breaking it into three separate smaller balls of dough, sleeves rolled up and blue apron on so he could start to knead.

Seb was humming to himself, and after a moment Henry realized he was humming the song Henry had performed at Ms. Renford’s party, the gala thing where Vincent Shield’s girlfriend wouldn’t leave him alone.

You know you’re next, right?

The intensity in her eyes, grabbing onto his arm. Vincent Shield at her elbow, glancing over his shoulder to make sure no one was paying attention. Everyone knew Vincent Shield and what’s-her-face bothered everyone about Whumpees-R-Us, so he’d kind of expected they’d bother him, too.

A good way to get under Ms. Renford’s skin, to mess with her foster son.

But ever since, he hadn’t been able to get the look on her face out of his head. She’d sounded so serious, so worried for him - and nobody ever worried about Henry.

He had a pretty awesome life - Ms. Renford took great care of him, her Boys took even better care of him. He got to study the things he loved most, he knew how to play piano and sing and all the stuff Ms. Renford wanted him to learn. She took him with her to museums and plays, to the opera (only once, he fell asleep and she’d been livid about that), to see important musicals and Broadway shows when they made it to town.

He kept thinking about her voice.

You’re know you’re next.

Peter wandered in from outside, wiping at his forehead, finished with the landscaping work he’d been doing all day while Henry was practicing. He was sweaty, his white shirt stuck to his skin, blue jeans smeared with dirt at the knees. Ms. Renford would have made him strip in the mudroom before she’d let him in, made him walk naked through the house to the shower and to change.

Seb only raised an eyebrow. “Hard work out there today?”

“Hmmmm, transplanted some seedlings, did a lot of weeding. I’m going to drink some water before I get cleaned up.” He glanced over at Henry, shot him a smile. “I could hear you through the window, Henry, you sounded really good today.”

“Thanks. Dex said so, too.”

Seb and Peter glanced at each other, some wordless communication between them that Henry didn’t quite understand. Whatever it was, both of their smiles faltered, just slightly, and he wondered why. Getting praise from Dex was a good thing… wasn’t it?

“Hey, can I… can I ask you guys something? Just between, um, us three?”

Sebastian and Peter looked at each other again, and then Peter nodded and moved with quick efficiency throughout the first floor rooms. When he circled back, he spoke to Seb first. “He’s in the second-floor office. I can hear him playing some Chopin.”

Ugh, Chopin. Henry hated Chopin.

“We’ve got a few minutes, Henry,” Sebastian said. His voice was light and casual, a little airy, entirely too careful. “What do you need?”

“Remember Ms. Renford’s party? A few weeks ago? The really big one with all the celebrities at it?” Sebastian nodded. Peter moved over and dropped into the seat next to his, smelling like dirt and sunlight and a little bit of his sweat.

Henry never got sweaty unless he was doing the fitness stuff Ms Renford asked him to do a couple times a week - and he thought sweat was pretty gross - but he didn’t mind it so much on Peter.

“We remember,” Peter said, a little encouragingly. He reached over and took Henry’s mug, taking a sip of the tea himself while Henry tried to work up enough irritation to glare at him and failed. “We got to go, too.”

“It was really fun,” Seb said, grinning. “I spoke to a few other pets, Madam was very kind to give us leave to speak. I brought home at least three new recipes.”

“Yeah, remember the one we had to go to and stay silent all night?” Peter rolled his eyes, and Sebastian tensed, then relaxed as it settled in that no one was here to catch him at it. “That was the longest three hours I’ve ever lived through.”

“Right,” Henry cut in. His heart was beating harder, although he couldn’t have said why, exactly. The pet lib people were ridiculous - mostly college kids and celebrities leaping on a trend, Ms. Renford always said. Just a fad, and they’d flare out. But there had been pictures she brought home of them, the lib people demonstrating, with a face here or there in the crowd circled.

It bothered him a lot once he realized the faces circled were all, every single one of them, really… pretty.

He’d seen one, a guy with really intense dark eyes, circled and X’d out, once. That was a long time ago but he still thought about it, what that X might have meant. He’d never seen another photograph like that, but it still… bothered him.

“Look, um… when I was there, this girl-... this woman, sorry, don’t tell Ms. Renford I said she was a girl, she hates when I do that… anyway, she told me… she said something to me, and I can’t stop thinking about it.”

“What did she say?” Peter asked, leaning his head on one hand, turned in his seat to watch Henry’s face.

“She said… ‘you know you’re next, right?’ What do you think she meant by that?”

The kitchen went suddenly silent. The sound of Sebastian’s movements with the bread dough stopped, he and Peter both froze, staring at Henry with identical expressions of dread.

Henry’s worst worries were confirmed when Peter’s eyes dropped to focus on his neck.

Henry was the only person in the house other than Ms. Renford who did not wear a collar.

“Henry…” Sebastian carefully started kneading the bread dough again, eyes moving to focus on his work. “What, um… what do you think happens when you turn eighteen?”

“I go to college, move out, go get a math and statistics degree,” Henry said simply. “That’s what I’ve done all my studying for. I’ll still do some performances for Ms. Renford, but…” His stomach dropped, as it sunk in what Seb was really asking him. “Wait.”

Peter, next to him, just nodded, slowly, a look of abject sympathy and compassion on his face. “Yes.”

“No. No… No, wait. Wait. I’m not… I’m not going to…” Henry’s pulse pounded in his ears and he felt a sudden sick lurch in his stomach, leaning over the table and swallowing back the bile that threatened to rise. “No. No, I’m not, I won’t be. I won’t sign it, she can’t make anyone sign it, right?”

Peter put a hand against his back, rubbing in slow circles, warm against his skin through the thin fabric of his T-shirt. “She can,” Peter said softly. “She can make anyone do anything.”

Henry felt himself gasping in shallow breaths, the spin of the room around him as the knowledge sunk in. Karen Renford’s house was surrounded by high walls - for privacy, she always claimed, but Henry now saw them as walls that could not be climbed to escape. He had spent years, half his life, taking piano lessons and voice lessons… entertaining her friends, attending her parties, her-

“I’m the next Box Boy,” Henry whispered, terrified, fingers digging into his jeans, twisting in the thick, heavy fabric. “I’m the next one of you, aren’t I? That’s what the pet lib lady meant? That’s why she tried to give me Vincent Shield’s phone number? Be, b-because, because when I turn eighteen-”

All Box Boys are of course of full legal and consenting age when they sign their contracts, Karen Renford’s voice said warmly in all the advertisements. Henry had heard all the reassurances so many times in his life that they ran together, meant nothing.

“I’m sorry, Henry,” Peter whispered. The tag on his collar, with his name written on it and his Box Boy number on the back, clinked inside its little ring. “I’m so sorry.”

Peter leaned over until his forehead touched the side of Henry’s head. Henry hated being touched, he hated it, but right now having someone close felt better than pushing them away.

He would turn eighteen in less than three months.

He was next.

And he’d pushed Vincent Shield’s hand away when he’d tried to give him his number.

“Wh-what do I do?” He whispered, and swallowed hard against the fear that threatened to break out. “What… what-”

“Don’t let her know you’ve figured it out,” Peter said, softly. “She’ll do it early if she thinks you’ll try… anything.”

“But I’m, I’m not eighteen yet-”

“She can still do it,” Peter said, and he didn’t move away, and Henry didn’t push him. “I wasn’t eighteen, either, I don’t think.”

Seb cleared his throat and Henry and Peter pulled apart long enough to look at him. “Yeah. Just… just keep it between us, for now. Don’t even tell Dex, he’ll-” Seb’s voice caught, and he punched hard into the bread dough. “He’ll tell her. Even if he doesn’t want to, he will. Just... let me think, for a second.”

Henry wondered, suddenly, what their lives had all been like before they had become Box Boys. He’d never thought it before, not even once, except in passing - but suddenly Henry wanted desperately to know what whole worlds of experience they had been robbed of.

Ms. Renford wouldn’t have spent nine years paying for piano and singing lessons and private tutors just to yank it all away from him, would she? She wouldn’t take his memories away, after all the… Henry’s face twisted in ugly realization of how she would think about it - after all the investment she’d made in him?

They sat there in silence, the bright day outside seemingly suddenly so much darker, when Sebastian stopped and looked out the window, gnawing on his lower lip. “Peter.”

“Yeah?”

“Madam tracks all the… the groups of people who would try to help Henry. If we could get ahold of a number, maybe…”

“How? Neither of us can use a computer. You know Dex would… wouldn’t ever.”

Peter and Sebastian went silent, and then both of them slowly turned to look at Henry. He knew what they were going to say before they ever spoke.

“Henry…” Sebastian swallowed, and Henry looked up at the naked fear on the handsome face and was suddenly so grateful for the men he had spent most of his life here largely ignoring, who were now suddenly giving him a thin shining string of hope to hang onto. “Can you ask to shadow Madam to her work? See if you could get into her records. You don’t have anything to-... to stop you, yet.”

He means a shock collar, Henry thought, remembering the times she’d put one on Peter after infractions, made him wear it for days on end. Henry hadn’t thought before but… would he have to wear one of those?

The reality of what was about to happen to him had begun to sunk in, and Henry’s hands began to shake. “Wh-what would I look for?” Henry’s voice wavered, just a little, but he steeled himself and tried to find strength.

“We’ll practice how you ask,” Sebastian said, voice slightly soothing. “We’ll work on it, Henry. The three of us. If she doesn’t know you know, she’ll let it go until your birthday. You have a few months. We can… we can figure this out.”

“Seb, if she finds out what we’re doing, we’ll be refurbished,” Peter whispered. On the last word in the sentence, his voice shook heavily, an old terror. Henry had never heard them - either of them - say the word before.

Seb looked away, teeth ground together, hands resting on the bread dough in front of him, flour dusted across his apron and marking a stripe across his cheek. “Does that mean you don’t want to?”

“No, I do, just… I’ll miss you, if I get refurbished.”

Sebastian hesitated, then nodded. “I’ll miss you too, Peter. But-”

“No, you’re right.” Peter turned back to Henry. There was an expression of new intensity in his face, and Henry looked at the sheen of sweat drying on his forehead, across his cheekbones, and thought Peter looked like he’d come back from running a race and was about to start a new one. “Here’s what we’ll do. You’ll get into her office, into her records or, or maybe a book of phone numbers in her desk.”

“Why?” Henry blinked - he’d been in her office before, it was just like every other office on earth as far as he could tell.

“Because Madam will know exactly who can help you. And I guarantee she’ll have addresses for public fronts, public numbers, names… she’ll have everything. We’ll find out, and we’ll call them, and we’ll… we’ll get you out of here.”

Henry glanced back and forth between them. “What about you two?”

Sebastian and Peter shared one more long, lingering look. Then they both turned back to him, all at once, a nearly perfectly echoed motion.

Peter laid a hand over his on the table.

“Henry,” He said softly, urgently. “We’ll get you out of here.”

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undonesarc · 5 years

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▌real name: griffith angelo d’aquino. ▌single or taken: single but.. we’re working on it. ▌abilities or powers: gun handling, knife combat, self defense (trained in standard boxing, wrestling, and has undergone courses that are essentially ripped straight from marine corps martial arts training programs), basic survival skills (desert-based, primarily, as that’s where the majority of his merc work took place), ▌eye color: a brown so dark it’s nearly black. ▌hair color: black. ▌family members: parents are sebastian d’aquino sr. and sheila d’aquino (nee walsh); six siblings, hugo (58), giorgia and emily (twins, 53), mia (49), lucas (47), and sebastian (44); one maternal uncle, max, and two fraternal, arthur and daniel (both deceased). ▌pets: n/a. has considered getting a dog, but doesn’t feel like he’d be able to actually be there for it as much as he should be, but if he ever considers retirement/a more permanent living situation then he’d probably get one. ▌something they don’t like: when people try to be all buddy-buddy with him, especially on jobs, especially if he barely knows them. he doesn’t like that sense of fake camaraderie, it makes him deeply uncomfortable. ▌hobbies/activities: crime, obviously, primarily bank robbery but he doesn’t mind getting involved in other things; more mundane hobbies include hiking, rock climbing, camping, boxing, playing video games, reading; at the home he keeps in new york, he has a library, and there’s an extensive collection of books there. ▌ever hurt anyone before: yes. frequently. as griff is fond of saying, you can’t be in crime without being a little criminal; he’s dealt out plenty of pain in his years, both professionally and on the side. his brief stint in the world of underground boxing was bloody. he’s picked more than a handful of fights in bars -- and not just yelling and some halfhearted punches. he’s thrown chairs, broken tables by slamming people into them, broken fingers and skulls and noses. he doesn’t flinch from violence, though that isn’t to say he revels in it, either; he’s not exactly apathetic, just doesn’t know how to deal with his emotions in any other way (but he doesn’t ever hurt the people cares about, i.e. his family/etc. he either deals with it by fighting or getting out the anger through work, or by going to a gym and taking it out on a punching bag/working it out through exercise). ▌ever killed anyone before: yes. 11 years of his life has been spent as a mercenary, seven with private military then four as a freelance killer in europe; his confirmed body count in europe was 13. outside of work, griff has only killed 3 people: his first was at the age of 16, when the eldest son of a “rival” family decided to send griff’s father a message by beating on griff (sebastian had refused to work with their family, and this was the retaliation for insulting them). griff fought back, unintentionally breaking his neck, then finishing the job by stabbing him in the throat. the other two kills were purely victims of circumstance; one was a man griff fought in the underground boxing he participated in (he didn’t die in the ring, but a few days later from injuries sustained); the second, a civilian who tried to be a hero during a robbery and earned a shotgun blast to the head for his trouble. ▌animal that represents them: a snake. ▌worst habits: the inability to own up to his feelings is the biggest one. this definitely extends beyond his sexuality; he’s not very good at showing his family (or the very rare friend that he has) that he cares for them. he’s not good at voicing his emotions, choosing instead to isolate (he camps by himself a lot) or something stupid like fighting (as mentioned above). he’s just very childish when it comes to emotions, and it’s goddamn annoying, and definitely makes it difficult to be friends with him. ▌role models: during their time together as mercs, jason became a sot-of role model for griff, with the impression he left continuing to influence griff into adulthood. his brother seb is also someone griff has constantly looked up to; because he’s only two years older, he’s the sibling griff was closest to. he helped griff deal with the body after his first murder; he’s the one who encouraged him to pursue theatre, then to leave home/the family when he saw how unhappy and uncomfortable griff was with them (seb has always known griff is gay, and hoped that by encouraging him to leave, he’d be helping him get to a place where he could learn to come to terms with who he is). griff has always admired the ferocity with which seb loves, and envies how easy-going he is. he’s tried to imitate it, but has never been able to perfect it. ▌sexual orientation: gay. ▌thoughts on marriage/kids: he doesn’t want kids, and doesn’t care for marriage in a traditional sense; he doesn’t believe in the ceremony and the paperwork. that’s not to say he wouldn’t flat-out deny a guy if it came to it, but he definitely wouldn’t want anything big. he thinks the commitment of saying i love you and then proving it by coming home every day is enough. ▌fears: being outed, and as an extension, coming to terms with being out; the reaction from his family; the act of actually being with a man again, though i think it’s less about actually being gay these days (because.. he understands it’s okay/natural, he’s really gotten over that fear and left it in his youth) and more of a fear of learning to love again, afraid he would lose it/ruin it like he did in the past. ▌style preferences: basic.. but like.. still kinda stylish? yeah he wears that ugly shirt with a cross on it in the movie, but that’s just how he dresses on jobs, primarily to throw people off and not let them get too familiar with who he really is. when he’s camping, of course he favors hiking boots and henleys. his style is dictated by what personality he’s presenting; in atlanta, he’s a hardened criminal, and dresses kinda corny to fit the part. in new york, he’s just another face in a crowd, but he wants to look good and feels more comfortable presenting closer to the look he likes in such a big city; he likes expensive dress shirts (and leans towards pastel colors) or designer shirts (he likes floral patterns like this) when he’s in new york, though sometimes he favors a more punk look (leather jacket, etc) when wearing more stylish and designer clothing makes him feel too exposed. he feels like there’s certain things expected from a guy who lives a life like him, who looks like he does, and sometimes he ends up falling prey to those stereotypes, because he’s too scared to let himself be who he really is. ▌someone they love: honestly.. to be honest....... he still has a little bit of love for jason and that’s never going to change. he also loves his brother seb a lot, and of course his other siblings as well -- they were all incredibly close growing up, and while he’s chosen to isolate, it isn’t because he hates them. he loves his family, he just needs to find his way back to them. ▌approach to friendships: he keeps anyone at arm’s length, though he does have some tentative friendships, all built on a mutual interest in crime, though the word friend is rarely ever used. griff tends to avoid “normal” people, not wanting to get them entangled in the life he lives; he doesn’t really have any genuine friends, people he goes out to coffee with or to the movies with or whatever, or people to talk to, actually, but god he needs it. ▌thoughts on pie: he’d kill you for pumpkin pie probably, ▌favorite drink: alcohol-wise, he loves strawberry cream tequila, and whiskey. liquor aside, he just drinks water and orange juice. ▌favorite place to spend time at: he loves the wilderness honestly! he goes camping every other weekend. he goes to the gym daily and really finds comfort in that routine. he doesn’t really like being at his atlanta apartment much, which is why he doesn’t spend too much money on it, or time in it. ▌swim in the lake or in the ocean: lakes; he developed a slight fear of the open water after working on fishing boats off of the west coast. ▌their type: we’ll have to revisit this........ i need more interactions w/ him before i say either way what he likes

tagged by: @armsdealing tagging: @armsdealing do this for buddy if you haven’t already, @exorsista, @exhauest

#long post #ask to tag #GRIFF.#GRIFF: META.

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smirkbastian · 5 years

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early childhood influences ♔

This entry focuses specifically on the primary people that Sebastian was surrounded by in his early childhood years and how those people made him out to be how he exists today. This explains a moderately in-depth description of how the Smythe household functioned, and information about both his parents and his deceased brother individually/Sebastian’s relationship with them. This timeline focuses on ages 8 and under, but statements about parenting tactics existed until the day Sebastian left the house. The way Sebastian was raised have shaped him to be who he is today, as well.

content warnings: child abuse, alcoholism, suicide

♖ ( parents. ) - The Smythe family was strange. Though they seemed to be the average snotty rich family living on an estate and traveling like it was a casual trip to the grocery store, they weren’t average. In fact, they were a very specific breed of fucked up. It was that kind of fucked up where it was hidden behind glamour and high-class status. Adam and Elise Smythe were parents who removed themselves emotionally from their children’s lives--- all while Adam tried to control how they navigated their lives in every other aspect. They had two sons, the eldest was Damian Smythe, while the youngest was Sebastian Smythe. Adam always wanted sons, and that is exactly what he got. Elise didn’t care either way--- she just wanted children because she felt like they would make her happier with herself as a person. That maybe caring for a child would distract her from her own demons. The Smythe household was not one where being free with your emotions was encouraged. There was an unsaid rule that a Smythe is never caught emotionally weak.

The Smythe name stood for a very specific thing. Adam and Elise knew that their goal to bring children into this world was to pass on the values of the Smythe name, and bring a new generation of power into the bloodline. Adam had grown up living up to the Smythe name as well and knew he would grow to become a lawyer like his father, and Elise had married into the family as a woman who had no family of her own blood herself. She had come from wealthy foster parents who weren’t the best people but paid for her to go to school so she could eventually use her medical degree to become a very prestigious plastic surgeon. Elise never really knew if she loved Adam, but she loved the idea of belonging to a permanent family, not a temporary one. Elise and Adam disagreed on a lot of parenting tactics, but with the abusive tendencies that Adam had revealed to her through the years, she struggled a lot with speaking her opinions and straying away from the way Adam wanted things to be when it came to raising Sebastian. Because of this, Sebastian was heavily raised under his father’s morals.

Adam believed to raise a successful young man, you had to condition them for an adulthood where failing was not an option-- and that started was the very beginning years of Sebastian’s life. It was never about teaching him to reach for what he wants in a healthy way, it was about teaching him to take what he’s destined to have from anybody’s hands if it meant he would level up. There was never lessons about treating others with kindness, instead Sebastian was taught never to show himself in a vulnerable position. Sebastian learned from a young age that the ‘right’ way to be was to hide his inner conflicts and carry on with a ruthless demand for success. Growing up in these early childhood years really not knowing who his dad truly was, their relationship was very odd. His dad was kind of just a feared man, even an irritating pest as Seb grew older, not a loving parental figure. He knew the name that his dad had in the public eye of law and fortune. He knew what the Smythe name meant for his dad. But he didn’t know what his dad liked. What he was like as a child. Where he came from. Adam Smythe was a private and closed off man, even with his family.

Elise was never a horrible mother in a direct manor, nothing like her husband, but her own problems and lack of power within the household caused her heart to be drowned out and hidden behind the state she kept herself in so that she didn’t have to face issues. Actually, especially while Sebastian was eight and under, Elise was still present to a decent extent before her alcoholism went overboard. Yes-- Elise was an alcoholic, one of those women who hides the fact they have a drinking problem, but everybody knew without saying that she had a problem. She always kept herself flawless, hair and makeup done, the nicest designer clothes. While Adam’s discipline was more present than his time, Elise’s time was more present than her discipline even though she was still a busy woman. She never laid down any kind of discipline. She feared doing the wrong thing but she also feared Adam so instead she did nothing. Sebastian did have some fond memories of her, though. In fact, when Sebastian was still young, Elise was at least good at showing her love when she could. She knew that she didn’t truly love her husband and she didn’t truly love her life behind all of the material things and status she had-- but what she did know was that she loved her sons. So much. Sebastian has his mother’s eyes. Sometimes Elise would tuck Sebastian in before bed and stroke his hair until he fell asleep and would just smile at the fact that Sebastian had the same eyes as her.

However, after her oldest son Damian took his own life when Sebastian was eight, Elise became so much more far gone than she was before. Nothing was really the same after that. When Elise was unable to keep going as the mother she had the glimpse of being before, Sebastian really started to look at her as a coward in his teenage years and see flaws in her the same way he saw a million flaws in his father. Because Sebastian had grown with such twisted views on life, he didn’t understand how to empathize with why she was never present. It was a horrible way to look at her but Sebastian was being encouraged to become horrible by his father. There was nothing else you could expect from him.

♖ ( damian. ) - Until the age of eight, Sebastian had an alive and well older brother, Damian Smythe. A lot of older brothers can be mean to their younger siblings, but Damian was anything but. There was never a rivalry or bullying. The only person he had a horrible relationship with was his parents. Damian and his parents would fight day and night. They really raised Damian to be the perfect model of a child. If you think Adam was controlling of Sebastian, Damian had gotten it much worse because he was the oldest. The first possibility of a perfectly shaped Smythe boy. They parented him harshly (more so Adam). He was almost more of a leader and role model for Sebastian because despite the fact that their parents were always upset with Damian, he always taught Sebastian that he should pursue whatever he wants to in life and be his own person. Even at that age, Sebastian understood exactly what he meant. I guess you could say that because Damian had lived eighteen years with the Smythe’s as parents, he knew what would be in store for Sebastian and he was putting these ideas of self-worth into his head before his parents could get to Sebastian like it had messed with Damian.

Damian would care for him a lot when Sebastian’s mood was too frustrated to accept the care of any nanny he had once behavioral issues came to bay for Sebastian. Damian was also the only person that could calm Sebastian down when he was upset. Damian was the reason Sebastian took a big interest in music that wasn’t purely classical or French as his parents enjoyed (which Sebastian also liked too, admittedly). The older Sebastian got, the less time Damian spent at home. Nothing to do with Sebastian. It was their parents driving him insane, Adam hounding him every moment spent together about how he’s fucking his life up with his plans and how difficult it was having to tell all of his friends and acquaintances that his oldest son wasn’t going into law as expected. Damian’s relationship with their parents worsening by the day, things got really tense. He couldn’t live up to the perfect son image. Damian was pretty much what you could call a genius in science and mathematics, and because he dismissed this in the sense of his career and instead took interest in the arts, he was ostracized by his parents.

At the age of eighteen, Damian took his own life. The details of how he did it were sad and didn’t matter. The point was--- he took his own life because beyond his independent thinking and trying to fight to be the person he wanted to be, there was a cracking point. Even for the ones with the strongest will, there comes a point where it’s hard to keep trying. He was a highly intelligent mind that felt depressed. Damian was diagnosed with clinical depression at a very young age, and was never given the proper tools in his home life to help it. With daily threats from his father and his mother doing nothing to stop this, Damian developed a lot of stress and a lot of self-image issues. The point of life was fading. His dreams were being denied--- what now? After Damian committed suicide, Adam and Elise really stopped trying with Sebastian as far as knowing where he was and what he was doing as long as his grades were good and he kept on with his curricular activities. Which is why Sebastian grew up to be a teenager that always seemed to be where he wanted to be. No curfew. No restrictions.

Adam was very quiet about the suicide. He almost fully ignored it, and acted like it never happened. It was almost like he was ashamed of talking about it or there was no world where he could even bring himself to get in touch with his emotions and cry. He acted like what Damian did was selfish from the little words he did say about it to Sebastian. Elise was a mess after it happened, she isolated herself and medicated herself with alcohol non-stop for the full year after. Never around. It was a strange time for the Smythe home, and people in their rich inner circle were talking. Rumors. Horrible things. Suddenly, Elise became a barely-there mother to an absent mother for Sebastian at the time where he needed to know how to feel about all this the most. Sebastian missed his brother. Even at eight, he knew it wasn’t just some selfish thing he did. He knew Damian had left him because he was sad. This is when Sebastian’s behavioral problems worsened heavily, and he became a true problem child.

#( past the surface of sebastian ) headcanon.#ill just put this here since im avoiding setting up rules and stuff....#plus i cant access the other version i had of this on my old blog so i had to re-writ #OH WELLLL

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-this-dizzy-dreamer- · 6 years

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Colleagues and Cocktails (Chapter 3)

Pairing: Coworker!Sebastian Stan x Plus-size!Reader AU

Summary: When you get moved up to a new department at work you can’t help but dread every aspect of it, that is until you find yourself expecting one of your co-workers to walk through the door every day. Then you realize it might not be as bad as you thought. But the thing is he doesn’t seem to notice you at all. All he seems to give you are daydreams and interesting chats with your best friend.

Warnings: Language.

Word Count: 2K

Enjoy!

It had been a week since you had found out that elevator guy was now your boss and well not much had changed. You had been on time after that too, except for that one time Rocinante had a flat tire, but other than that you’d done just fine. You hadn’t bumped into your boss either, thank God, because who knows what would come out of your face hole if you did. And you still talked...well texted Sebastian every now and then. Looking at the work you’d done putting your hair in a fishtail braid you, you came to realize that everything was pretty well off and there was not much that could ruin your streak so far.

You were already up and it was extremely early for work and since you were almost ready you decided to sit and eat a bowl of cereal while starting to rewatch Supernatural for the 10000th time.

sstan01: What does one pack for a work retreat? Every year I have the same problem. Are you taking formal or casual clothing?

As you checked your calendar you panicked. You had completely forgotten about your work retreat. Everyone had to mandatorily go to a company owned cabin in the middle of basically nowhere to build “teamwork ethic.” And to top it all off you were leaving today in less than 3 hours. YOU HAD TO PACK IN LESS THAN 3 HOURS….

coffeelover04: Both???

You quickly pulled out your old suitcase and began throwing things in, the necessities first, everything else later.

“ I can do this. I can totally do this.”

Seb smiled as he read your text realizing you had probably forgotten all about the trip. He, however, had been looking forward to it since the moment he realized he’d have to talk to you during the whole week. Yes, he had been texting you, but he was pretty sure you had no idea it was him and well maybe you not knowing wasn’t a bad thing. What would everyone else say if they knew you’d been getting special attention from the boss. Not that it was special attention or anything, but people always talk.

sstan01: Right, thanks!

He had also already packed, since yesterday, and had texted you just to make sure you remembered, which he could tell basically saved your life. However, he wasn’t completely lying about not knowing what to take. That had been his conflict last night He was too excited to sleep and kept overthinking what he had packed. He couldn’t be too laid back because he was in charge now, but he also didn’t want to intimidate everyone else, especially not you.

After you finally finished packing you had an hour to get to the office, meaning you really only had half an hour to pull yourself together and text Liz to look after your apartment for the week.

As you drove to work you couldn’t help think that maybe you were going on this trip to underdressed. But then again you were going to be stuck on a bus with other people for possibly the whole day, so who cares, sweats and a sweater were a great idea. And Liz was wrong you couldn’t talk to him and you definitely weren’t dressing for him.

Pulling up to the parking lot you noticed you were either really early or super late. The bus had arrived, coach obviously, and the only one placing their luggage in was your boss.

“Liz is wrong. Liz is wrong. Liz is wrong..”

Finally having convinced yourself you’d be fine you pulled yourself out of your car and got your luggage out of your car. Walking toward him made your stomach hurt. You could hear your heartbeat pounding in your chest. What would you even say? “Hi?” That’s so pathetic. Why did it even matter?

“ Goodmorning! We were just waiting on you Y/N? Almost left, but Jessica insisted you’d make it. Said late is your middle name.” Your boss smirked slightly and your palms were suddenly really clammy as you processed the interaction.

“ Hi, yea sorry. I’m here.” You frantically moved around him trying to put your suitcase up under the bus and failed miserably as it slid back down. Fuck.

You heard your boss chuckle behind you. He was right behind you. You could feel his presence so close to you. Like in your dream.

“Here let me help you with that.” His hand came up behind you brushing your arm slightly to catch your suitcase before it slid down again.

“ Yea thanks.” You said as you left him there to get on the bus feeling your cheeks heat up turning bright red. “Liz is wrong. Liz is wrong. Liz could be right??”

Jess had saved you a seat next to her in the back so that you could stretch out comfortably she said, but you knew she loved watching everyone else and catching all the gossip. Moving to the back you kept your face down so no one would notice how red you were. When you finally got there and sat down Jess already knew what had happened.

“ Girl I saw it out the window! Truth be told you two would be sooo cute together, or it would at least be a change.”

“ What do you mean a change?”

“ Well, he has only dated those super athletic model type girls, that I know of at least. Not that you aren’t fit to be a model darling, but...well you know what I mean.”

“ It’s ok Jess I know I’m fat and plus that would never happen. Like you said I’m not his type.”

“ Okay look here don’t put words in my mouth and second you’re not fat you’re THICK. He’d be lucky to have a girl like you. More cushion for the pushin’.” Winking at you Jess looked back at the boss he had finally settled in his seat and pulled her sleeping mask over her eyes leaving you still blushing if not more.

And as the bus pulled away your notifications went off.

sstan01: Can I text you? I’m pretty sure you don’t like having to open your email just to message me back. And just in case they don’t keep the bus wifi on the whole way.

You had completely forgotten that Sebastian was on the trip too, obviously. So since Jess was snoring softly next to you-you decided to occupy your time trying to figure out just who it could be. An texting sounded like the perfect way to find out.

coffeelover04: Sure!

Maybe it would be a trip to remember, but you did know one thing for sure. Whoever Sebastian was you couldn’t tell. No phone went off, so the only other conclusion you could come to was that they had their phone either on vibrate or silent. And since Jess was still asleep and you had nothing else to do you decided to reply and take a nap yourself.

After about 10 minutes with no reply Seb convinced himself to look back to check up on you, however, he had to make it as normal as possible after what had happened outside the bus. So obviously he pretended to make do a head count even though the bus hadn’t stopped anywhere yet. He sat back in his seat smiling to himself at the image he had seen a few seconds earlier. You sleeping soundly with a smile on your face snuggling up to Jess. You looked so sweet and innocent. Just as sweet and innocent as you did fumbling with your suitcase. The closeness between the two of you had made him want more. He had to use all of his willpower to not wrap his arms around you. You radiated something that attracted him to you and he couldn’t figure out what it was. It made his hair stand on ends when he was near you and it made his head spin. And to tell the truth, he loved it.

You woke abruptly from your nap from some weird dream you couldn’t remember now, but slowly came to your surrounding. It seemed everyone had gotten off the bus at the rest area and no one had bothered to let you know. And getting off now would be so awkward and you’d probably make everyone have to wait too. So you curled up into a blanket you assumed belonged to Jess and curl up again, but of course, you had to check your phone again before you dozed off.

You couldn’t help blushing slightly at Sebastian’s response. Was he flirting with you or was it all in your head? Could you still be half asleep?

Just as you hit send you saw someone get back on the bus in your peripheral vision and heard their phone chime.

“ It can’t be? Can it? Holy shit, what if it is?”

Slowly you looked up into the driver's mirror. The guys head was down so you couldn’t tell who it was, that and well you had taken your glasses off to nap. However, you decided to try something.

It was him. For every text that you had sent you had heard a chime on his phone. They correlated perfectly. It took you a second to pull all of your courage together to go up to him and properly introduce yourself, but just as you were about to get up Jess came back on the bus with everyone else behind her. You couldn’t possibly do it now. Sitting back down you pulled the blanket back on and decided you could do it later. Maybe after a few episodes of your favorite show with Jess. So, you pulled out your laptop and headphones as Jess sat next to you under the blanket.

“ Oh, look who’s finally up. I tried to wake you, but you said something about “fucking off” or something.” Jess said as she handed you your favorite candy and drink from the vending machines.

“ I’m sorry Jess. I really am, thank you so much for the snacks. You’re the best.” Taking your snacks from her you offered her a headphone and started up your Netflix account.

As the last person got on the bus. Everyone cheered and applauded for being back on the road. And once everyone settled down you looked back up to the mirror and put on your glasses. He seemed familiar, but you couldn’t completely make him out. He seemed to be shuffling around for something. After a few minutes he got up and you could have sworn that the whole bus heard what you said next.

“ No fucking way.”

Sebastian had stood up to address the bus.

“If anyone has seen my phone, please let me know. I think it might have slipped between the seat. And now that I’m up here I should also let you guys know that we’ll be there in about 2-3 hours.”

You felt queasy. No way no how was it him. It couldn’t be.

“ Y/N are you ok? It looks like you just saw a ghost and not the one on your screen.”

Shaking your head you turned to Jess with a small smile. “I’m fine just a little car sick, but I have a quick question. Since we are on the trip to get to know everyone. What’s the big boss’s name?”

“ Oh, I totally forgot you didn’t know. It’s Sebastian, dear. We can go over everyone’s name later if you like.”

“ Yea, Jess...that sounds great.”

Looking back up at the mirror you saw him looking back up at you, elevator guy, the boss.

“ Sebastian..”

Hope you all enjoyed this chapter! I start classes this Monday, but I promise you guys I’ll try to keep updating on time! Once again any feedback you guys have for me is perfect. I love you all so much. If you guys ever just want to talk to have questions feel free to message me! ~xoxoxo~

#colleagues and cocktails fic #chapter 3 #sebastian stan x reader #sebastian stan x plus size reader #enjoy #fanfiction #fan fic #she knows

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spectorbarnes · 7 years

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all i ask

summary: you are secretly in love with your best friend, sebastian, who is engaged. the night before the wedding you end up drunk with your friends at a bar and leave a voicemail message telling him how you really feel. you hang up and continue to have a great time until you see sebastian enter the bar and walk towards you but he does not look happy.

pairing: au!sebastian stan x reader

warnings: angst, smut (18+)

a/n: i’ve been trying to write this for a while and i’ve dug it out from my ‘likes’. special thanks to @theartofimagining13 for letting me write this and making the imagine. song: all i ask by adele.

You pulled out the bar stool from under the counter as your friends sat down on each of your sides. Your friend Emilia asked the bartender for three beers before turning to you and your other friend Monica.

You and Monica were distracted by the girl singing on stage who could barely keep her balance.

“Someone had too much to drink,” Monica muttered as the girl began slur the rest of the lyrics of the song.

“Do you think if I get just as hammered as her tonight, I’ll be able to go up on stage,” Emilia wondered. “I’ve always wanted to sing karaoke but I get stage fright.”

“Woah, I only agreed to have a drink with you girls here, not get drunk. I have to be up early tomorrow.” You shook your head. You cringed when you heard the girl’s microphone gave a high-pitched feedback.

“Oh, that’s right, Sebastian’s wedding is tomorrow. Thank him on our behalf for inviting us.” Monica, your other friend rolled her eyes as she took a sip of beer.

“Seb would have loved to have you there.” You explained. “Unfortunately, the venue has a guest limit and his fiancée has a lot of family and friends coming in from out of state.”

Of course, Sebastian’s guest headcount was no were near the limit. But that was the answer he gave you when you asked why he hadn’t invited your friends. Sebastian had known you since high school and you two have been best friends since. Years later, your college roommates Emilia and Monica joined the group. Everything was perfect at first but Sebastian began to pull away and spend less time with them when he met his fiancée. Of course, nothing had changed with you, but your friends were taking it to heart. You couldn’t blame them.

“Face it. His fiancée is a higher social class than us. Sebastian doesn’t want people like us around. Fuck that bitch,” Emilia said, taking another sip of beer. “And fuck that other bitch too.”

Damn, if she wasn’t right. You picked up the beer bottle at the counter and took a sip.

“Are you sure you’re okay being there?” Monica asked you. You couldn’t keep a secret from your best friends, and it was pretty obvious from the beginning that you were interested in Sebastian. But he remained oblivious to your feelings towards him. Your friendship meant a lot to both of you that you didn’t dare to ruin it.

“I’m fine.” You lied.

The past couple of months were unbearable. You were Sebastian’s best man or best woman as he put it, for the wedding. He didn’t have a close guy friend or a brother to take on the job so he chose you.

You ended up taking a lot of tasks than was intended. You helped him pick the venue, helped with choosing his tuxedo, what to write for his vows, pretty much everything since his future wife was busy traveling around Europe and getting the biggest fashion designers to make her dresses. She was wearing more than one dress on her big day.

You had a gut feeling she didn’t like you. Although Sebastian denied it, you had overheard a discussion they had over the phone. She was upset that you had done the work for her. Sebastian suggested they postpone the wedding for her to have time to chose every detail, which led to a loud voice from the other side of the phone call and a few mentions of your name.

“Your next drink is on me.” Emilia turned to you. “You deserve it after working so hard, come on. The wedding ends tomorrow, all the troubles will go away. Sebastian will be married-” She stopped mid-sentence. You didn’t want a painful reminder that he’d be someone else’s forever.

“I’m only having one drink.” You shook your head. “I can’t show up to the ceremony with a hangover.”

“Come on, I’ll get my boyfriend to pick us up, you don’t have to worry about being the designated driver anymore,” Monica suggested. “We’re not leaving until Emilia sings, anyways.”

“Oh, please,” Emilia begged. “Sebastian has kept you all to himself for too long. It’s only fair you spend time with us now. I haven’t had fun with you in a while.”

“Alright,” you gave in.

Your side of the counter slowly began to fill up with empty glasses throughout the night. Emilia finally had the guts to go on stage and sing her song. She had finished the first verse when Monica tapped your shoulder.

“I think I’m going to ask that guy out,” She pointed to a man leaning against the wall. He nodded in her direction and winked at her. “He’s been staring at me all night.”

Your jaw dropped. Monica was definitely not the kind of girl who took the first step, especially since she only had one serious boyfriend in her life.

“Well, go get his number.” You patted her back as she walked over to the man.

The last few shots of tequila seemed to help both your friends in being confident. You sighed and thought about doing something you knew your sober self would have never thought of doing. Tonight might be the last chance you would be able to do it.

You picked up the phone and searched through your recent calls. You didn’t have to look far to find his number.

Hey, this is Sebastian, Please leave a message.

“Hi,” you sighed. “I-It’s me. I know it’s late and you’re probably getting ready for tomorrow. I just wanted to say-” You paused. “I love you and I-I just wish I was her.” A knot formed in your throat and your eyes began to water. “It kills me to see you with someone else. I know this is selfish and I shouldn’t be saying this. I can’t go to your wedding, it’s better that I back off and no longer be a part of your life. I’m sorry. I wish you the best. Goodbye, Sebastian.” You hung up.

The bartender came over and gave you another drink.

“This is from the guys at that table.” He pointed to the table behind you and the three guys waved at you. If you were sober you would have thought it was creepy, grabbed your purse and headed out. But there was a good enough amount of alcohol was in your system to just smile and hold up your drink.

You wanted to get away from everything, even your thoughts. The man in the leather jacket from the table took the seat at the bar next to you and started to pick up a conversation. He was a single father out with the boys from work just wanting to have a good time. He started to ask where you worked, what kind of hobbies you liked and if you were taken by anyone.

You shook your head and he ordered you another drink. Turns out he had recently moved into town and was looking for friends, besides his co-workers, to hang out with. You nodded, wanting to be nothing but friendly towards him.

You realized you had nearly doubled the amount drinks you had earlier tonight. Looking at the empty glasses in front of you. You had lost track of time. You began to feel lightheaded. Your vision doubled and you pinched your eyes shut to stop your head from spinning.

“Are you okay, baby?” He asked, pressing his hand against your lower back and started sliding further down. “Need another drink?” He slid a drink across the table from you.

“Don’t touch me.” You shoved his hand away from your ass. You got up, trying to see where Monica and Emilia were at.

You saw a man walking towards you at the bar. You realized it was Sebastian who glared in your direction. Only you realized his glare wasn’t at you, it was for the man sitting next to you.

“Oh, shit.” You muttered to yourself as Sebastian grabbed a fistful of the man’s leather jacket, spun him around and pushed him against the counter.

“Get the hell away from her.” He growled, his free hand turning into a fist between both men’s faces before quickly letting go of him. He turned to look at you, grabbed your wrist and started to pull you away from the bar. “I’m taking you home.”

You managed to grab your purse before the other two men, who had accompanied the man whose name you couldn’t remember, got up and walked towards Sebastian.

“I need to find Emilia and Monica.” You said.

“I called their boyfriends. They took Emilia’s car and left while I was looking around the bar for you.” He said.

One of the men had muttered something unintelligible, Sebastian briefly let go of you and began to swing. Sebastian had punched one of them down on the floor and the other a harsh push. That was until he took a blow. He stumbled back and you held on to him, not wanting him to fall.

“Seb, let’s go.” You beg, pulling on his arm. But he didn’t listen. All he saw was red, he didn’t want anyone offending you, let alone touching you inappropriately without your consent. He tried to get away from your grip but you held on tighter. “Seb!” You said louder. He turned around and saw you, his face expression softening.

Sebastian grabbed your waist and let you lead the way out as other people started taking a swing at the guys causing chaos.He walked you over to his car and opened the passenger seat. He sped down the city street.

“How did you know where I was?” You asked.

“I saw a picture of you three on Emilia’s Instagram post, she added the bar’s location,” Sebastian responded coldly.

The rest of the ride home was silent, most of your attention shifted on not throwing up in Sebastian’s nice car after you felt your stomach turn when he turned right at an intersection.

You arrived at your house, you jumped out of the car and opened the front door. You had expected Sebastian to stay in the car but he had already followed you inside. You threw the house keys on the dining room table and rushed to the bathroom to empty out your stomach.

Sebastian rushed in the bathroom to find you bending over the toilet seat. To anyone else he would have gagged and left the room but to his best friend, he stayed and held your hair back. Your chest began to hurt as you gave your last hurl.

“You’re going to feel much better after this.” Sebastian rubbed his hand against your back. Sebastian chuckled, recalling your 21st birthday ending with something similar like this, “You’ve never been able to handle your drinks, I’m not always going to be here when you’re drunk.”

Sebastian’s face expression changed when he said the last sentence. He remembered the real reason he went to pick you up at the bar.

He was getting all the last minute details of the wedding set up when he realized he had a missed call from you and a voicemail. He could feel his heart breaking when you said you didn’t want to attend your best friend’s wedding. He dropped everything he was doing and grabbed his car keys wanting an explanation.

You reached open the medicine cabinet and grabbed your toothbrush and paste. Sebastian took a step back.

“I’ll wait for you in the living room.” He muttered before leaving you to clean up.

You had taken about 6 cups of mouthwash and splashed your face with cold water, you walked out to the living room feeling more refreshed.

You found Sebastian sitting on the couch. His lips formed a thin line, he looked at you and slowly lowered his gaze to the floor. You were about to ask if he was okay when he decided to speak.

“Why the hell do you think it’s better for you to be out of my life?” He snapped.

You groaned as you remembered the stupid voicemail you felt you dreamed you sent him, only now you realize it was not a dream.

“What about what I think, huh?” He raised his voice slightly and stood up from the couch. “Did you just expect me to be okay with you cutting me off all of a sudden?”

“Sebastian, calm down.” You pleaded, taking a step back when he got too close to you. You had never seen Sebastian this mad and you had seen him lose his temper a few times. That only seemed to make him even angrier, his chest rose and sunk rapidly as he ran his fingers through his hair. “Are you mad because I don’t want to be friends anymore or because I told you how I felt?”

“You don’t feel that way. You were drunk, you didn’t know what you were saying. I better see your ass at the ceremony.” Sebastian shook his head and stormed past you, ready to leave the house.

“You can’t make me go!” You managed to say before he grabbed the door handle. “And I meant what I said.” You added in a lower tone.

Sebastian stopped in his tracks. His hand was still on the doorknob, his shoulders slumped before he turned around and faced you with bloodshot eyes.

“You only said it now because you know I wouldn’t be able to do anything about it.” He started to take slow steps towards you.

“You were never going to do anything about it.” You stood in the middle of the room and crossed your arms. “But like you said, I was drunk. I shouldn’t have said anything. I’m sorry.”

Sebastian now stood a few inches away from you, your bodies close enough to feel each other’s body heat but not touch. He clenched his jaw and leaned in to press his lips against yours.

You were shocked, your body stiffened as he wrapped his arms around you. You hummed his name against his lips but he didn’t bother pulling away from the kiss. He began to move his lips against yours and you got a small hint of alcohol from his mouth. You pushed him away.

“Did you drink?” You asked, trying to make eye contact with him. You knew he wouldn’t be able to lie to you if you did.

“Just a few beers.” He shushed you and pulled you in to continue the kiss. Your hands went back to his chest and pushed him away again.

“Stop kissing me. You’re getting married tomorrow.” You broke away from his grasp.

“That’s why I’m kissing you.” He responded. “It’s hard enough to go through wedding preparations having doubts in my mind and now that you told me this-”

“You have doubts?” You interrupted.

“The only thing I don’t have a doubt about is you and how much I want you right now.” He begged. “Let me kiss you, even if it’s just for tonight that’s all I ask.” You slightly nodded, and that was all it took for him to take you in his arms and kiss you passionately.

You let your lips move against his. His strong arms were wrapped tightly around your waist as he held you against him. Your arms wrapped around his neck. He bit your lower lip, and lightly tugged on it. His hands roamed your lower body as he pulled you up to his arms and made you wrap your legs around his waist.He began walking towards your bedroom.

“You said you only wanted to kiss me tonight.” You recalled as his mouth moved from yours to your jaw.

“I know, but I didn’t really promise nothing would happen after.” Sebastian pushed the bedroom door open and brought you down to the bed. He straddled your hips, both knees on either side. You lay there surrounded by pillows, admiring him and his body as he took his shirt off. His hands reached the hem of your shirt and his eyes scanned your face. “Are you okay with this?”

“I’m alright.” You approved, sitting up. He pulled the shirt over your shoulders and threw it on the floor.

You leaned in towards Sebastian for a kiss before quickly undressing each other. Sebastian fumbled with your bra as you undid his belt. Within a matter of moments, you were both completely naked. Sebastian settled between your legs as his eyes scanned your bare body.

“You’re beautiful. Oh, so beautiful. Just give me a minute to look at you.” He whispered as he pushed you back against the pillows. You wanted to cover yourself up, instantly your arm moved slightly to do so, but Sebastian caught on and stopped you. His eyes took the sweet time to scan your face first. This gaze now dropped to your neck, to your chest down your stomach to the place where you felt the most heat. Sebastian licked his lips.

You made an inhumane voice when he ran his fingers up and down your already wet slit.

“Did I make you this wet?” He smiled to himself as he leaned down to press his lips against yours for a brief moment.

Before he could sit back up, you wrapped your arms around him and rested your chin on his shoulder, trying to hide the tears forming in your eyes. You had imagined a night like this since you were younger but never on these terms. This would be the only night you would spend with him as this. You wanted to scream at the universe for not choosing you to be his. But in reality, it was all your fault for never taking a leap like this before.

“Are you okay?” He asked. You wiped away the tear that managed to escape.

“Yeah, just fuck me.” You pushed all your feelings aside, if you were going to have tonight with him you weren’t going to cry about it. At least not within the next 24 hours.

“No,” Sebastian pulled away and looked at you. “I’m not going to fuck you. You deserve more than that, I’m going to make love to you.”

He grabbed the tip of his manhood and pressed it against your entrance. He gave out a slight moan when the tip entered you. He cursed under his breath because he knew nothing could prepare him for the pleasure he was about to feel.

He slowly entered you, inch by inch. You arched your back and shut your eyes. He filled you up even better than you could have imagined.

“Fuck,” Sebastian whispered once he was already buried completely inside of you. A couple of agonizing moments without moving later you broke the silence.

“Move,” You grinded your hips against his.

“I’m just trying to remember all of this.” He towered over you. “Look at me.” He whispered.

Sebastian pulled out slowly, almost completely before he pushed himself back in. Your eyes not leaving his as he continued his actions. Your small trembling moans began to sound louder the more he thrust into you.

“You’re so tight, princess. Why didn’t we do this before?” He threw his head back as your walls clenched around him.

“You didn’t feel the same way.” You dug your nails into his back. “Yes, Seb. Just like that.”

“I always felt that way about you. I didn’t feel like I deserved you.” Sebastian grunted as he picked up his pace. A bead of sweat starting to form on his forehead.

“If we weren’t doing this, I would have punched you in the face by now.” You responded. You managed to roll him over on his back, you were now on top, straddling his hips. You rose, digging your knees farther on the bed as you slid up and sat back down on his shaft.

“Keep doing that, sweetheart.” Sebastian breathed, placing his hands on your hips, guiding you down on him. You caught your breath when he reached your g-spot. “Jackpot.”

He rolled over you, pressing you back against the pillows. He hitched your leg around his waist as he repeatedly hit your g-spot.

“Sebastian, Oh-” You bit your lip. You felt the familiar fire began to form within you.

“I always thought it was you who I’d end up marrying,” Sebastian admitted. You opened your eyes to see him looking down at you. “It was hard to work the details of the wedding with you knowing you wouldn’t be the one dressed in-dressed in white” He stuttered and moaned as your walls clenched around him again, “Princess, I don’t think I can last much longer.”

“I’m coming too.” You brought your hand to your breast, tugging on a nipple and found your release.

“I love you.” He whispered. The sight of you playing with yourself and the feeling of your come around him made him reach his climax. Sebastian’s last sloppy thrusts milked out both your orgasms. He pulled out and climbed next to you, holding you in his arms as you both tried to catch your breath. “You know I planned on doing this after prom.” He said.

“How so?” You played with his hair.

“That’s the night I realized I was in love with you,” Sebastian said. “But you went off with Trevor to his after-party.”

“You kissed Elizabeth from Physics.” You responded.

“After I saw you with Trevor,” he added.

“I only went with Trevor because I saw you kiss Elizabeth.” You both burst out laughing.

“We’re a mess,” Sebastian said.

“Why didn’t the stars just align for you and I to be together?” You wondered out loud. Your eyelids began to flutter shut as Sebastian began to think.

Your head was against his chest as he figured out that the stars didn’t need to align for him to be with you. All he needed was to break off something that should have never been proposed.

#sebastian stan #sebastian x reader #sebastian stan fanfiction #sebastian stan fanfic #marvel #fic #au!sebastian stan #bucky barnes #thewritersoldier

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griffter · 4 years

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▌real name: griffith angelo d’aquino. ▌single or taken: single but.. we’re working on it. ▌abilities or powers: gun handling, knife combat, self defense (trained in standard boxing, wrestling, and has undergone courses that are essentially ripped straight from marine corps martial arts training programs), basic survival skills (desert-based, primarily, as that’s where the majority of his merc work took place), ▌eye color: a brown so dark it’s nearly black. ▌hair color: black. ▌family members: parents are sebastian d’aquino sr. and sheila d’aquino (nee walsh); six siblings, hugo (58), giorgia and emily (twins, 53), mia (49), lucas (47), and sebastian (44); one maternal uncle, max, and two fraternal, arthur and daniel (both deceased). ▌pets: n/a. has considered getting a dog, but doesn’t feel like he’d be able to actually be there for it as much as he should be, but if he ever considers retirement/a more permanent living situation then he’d probably get one. ▌something they don’t like: when people try to be all buddy-buddy with him, especially on jobs, especially if he barely knows them. he doesn’t like that sense of fake camaraderie, it makes him deeply uncomfortable. ▌hobbies/activities: crime, obviously, primarily bank robbery but he doesn’t mind getting involved in other things; more mundane hobbies include hiking, rock climbing, camping, boxing, playing video games, reading; at the home he keeps in new york, he has a library, and there’s an extensive collection of books there. ▌ever hurt anyone before: yes. frequently. as griff is fond of saying, you can’t be in crime without being a little criminal; he’s dealt out plenty of pain in his years, both professionally and on the side. his brief stint in the world of underground boxing was bloody. he’s picked more than a handful of fights in bars – and not just yelling and some halfhearted punches. he’s thrown chairs, broken tables by slamming people into them, broken fingers and skulls and noses. he doesn’t flinch from violence, though that isn’t to say he revels in it, either; he’s not exactly apathetic, just doesn’t know how to deal with his emotions in any other way (but he doesn’t ever hurt the people cares about, i.e. his family/etc. he either deals with it by fighting or getting out the anger through work, or by going to a gym and taking it out on a punching bag/working it out through exercise). ▌ever killed anyone before: yes. 11 years of his life has been spent as a mercenary, seven with private military then four as a freelance killer in europe; his confirmed body count in europe was 13. outside of work, griff has only killed 3 people: his first was at the age of 16, when the eldest son of a “rival” family decided to send griff’s father a message by beating on griff (sebastian had refused to work with their family, and this was the retaliation for insulting them). griff fought back, unintentionally breaking his neck, then finishing the job by stabbing him in the throat. the other two kills were purely victims of circumstance; one was a man griff fought in the underground boxing he participated in (he didn’t die in the ring, but a few days later from injuries sustained); the second, a civilian who tried to be a hero during a robbery and earned a shotgun blast to the head for his trouble. ▌animal that represents them: a snake. ▌worst habits: the inability to own up to his feelings is the biggest one. this definitely extends beyond his sexuality; he’s not very good at showing his family (or the very rare friend that he has) that he cares for them. he’s not good at voicing his emotions, choosing instead to isolate (he camps by himself a lot) or something stupid like fighting (as mentioned above). he’s just very childish when it comes to emotions, and it’s goddamn annoying, and definitely makes it difficult to be friends with him. ▌role models: during their time together as mercs, jason became a sot-of role model for griff, with the impression he left continuing to influence griff into adulthood. his brother seb is also someone griff has constantly looked up to; because he’s only two years older, he’s the sibling griff was closest to. he helped griff deal with the body after his first murder; he’s the one who encouraged him to pursue theatre, then to leave home/the family when he saw how unhappy and uncomfortable griff was with them (seb has always known griff is gay, and hoped that by encouraging him to leave, he’d be helping him get to a place where he could learn to come to terms with who he is). griff has always admired the ferocity with which seb loves, and envies how easy-going he is. he’s tried to imitate it, but has never been able to perfect it. ▌sexual orientation: gay. ▌thoughts on marriage/kids: he doesn’t want kids, and doesn’t care for marriage in a traditional sense; he doesn’t believe in the ceremony and the paperwork. that’s not to say he wouldn’t flat-out deny a guy if it came to it, but he definitely wouldn’t want anything big. he thinks the commitment of saying i love you and then proving it by coming home every day is enough. ▌fears: being outed, and as an extension, coming to terms with being out; the reaction from his family; the act of actually being with a man again, though i think it’s less about actually being gay these days (because.. he understands it’s okay/natural, he’s really gotten over that fear and left it in his youth) and more of a fear of learning to love again, afraid he would lose it/ruin it like he did in the past. ▌style preferences: basic.. but like.. still kinda stylish? yeah he wears that ugly shirt with a cross on it in the movie, but that’s just how he dresses on jobs, primarily to throw people off and not let them get too familiar with who he really is. when he’s camping, of course he favors hiking boots and henleys. his style is dictated by what personality he’s presenting; in atlanta, he’s a hardened criminal, and dresses kinda corny to fit the part. in new york, he’s just another face in a crowd, but he wants to look good and feels more comfortable presenting closer to the look he likes in such a big city; he likes expensive dress shirts (and leans towards pastel colors) or designer shirts (he likes floral patterns like this) when he’s in new york, though sometimes he favors a more punk look (leather jacket, etc) when wearing more stylish and designer clothing makes him feel too exposed. he feels like there’s certain things expected from a guy who lives a life like him, who looks like he does, and sometimes he ends up falling prey to those stereotypes, because he’s too scared to let himself be who he really is. ▌someone they love: honestly.. to be honest……. he still has a little bit of love for jason and that’s never going to change. he also loves his brother seb a lot, and of course his other siblings as well – they were all incredibly close growing up, and while he’s chosen to isolate, it isn’t because he hates them. he loves his family, he just needs to find his way back to them. ▌approach to friendships: he keeps anyone at arm’s length, though he does have some tentative friendships, all built on a mutual interest in crime, though the word friend is rarely ever used. griff tends to avoid “normal” people, not wanting to get them entangled in the life he lives; he doesn’t really have any genuine friends, people he goes out to coffee with or to the movies with or whatever, or people to talk to, actually, but god he needs it. ▌thoughts on pie: he’d kill you for pumpkin pie probably, ▌favorite drink: alcohol-wise, he loves strawberry cream tequila, and whiskey. liquor aside, he just drinks water and orange juice. ▌favorite place to spend time at: he loves the wilderness honestly! he goes camping every other weekend. he goes to the gym daily and really finds comfort in that routine. he doesn’t really like being at his atlanta apartment much, which is why he doesn’t spend too much money on it, or time in it. ▌swim in the lake or in the ocean: lakes; he developed a slight fear of the open water after working on fishing boats off of the west coast. ▌their type: we’ll have to revisit this…….. i need more interactions w/ him before i say either way what he likes

#reposting from an archive hehe #about.#long post

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