#mobster!sebastian stan | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

sjsmith56 · 2 months ago

Text

Mr. Barnes Seizes the Day

Summary - AU one shot. Mr. Barnes, a bachelor grammar school principal romances a spinster teacher on his staff, after receiving his orders to report for duty in WW II.

Length: 6.5 K

Characters: James Barnes, named OFC.

Warnings: lack of confidence, fear of rejection, no smut although it is implied.

Author notes: Was going to wait on posting this but these recent pictures brought up an idea for a story. Other writers may see him as a mobster, but in this AU I see him as an unmarried school principal contemplating his life choices and deciding to do something about it. Carpe diem is Latin, translated often to "seize the day." Images of Sebastian Stan by @popeofthebowery.

Brooklyn, January 1943

He looked in the mirror as he did his tie, the same colour tie he had worn every school day for 18 years. It had always been a black tie with a white shirt, a black sweater vest, and black suit, black shoes; his current uniform, soon to be replaced by a pink and green one. The new uniform would actually be a dark olive drab jacket over a lighter shade drab for the trousers but he had it on good authority that the officers in the army called them pinks and greens. It was going to be quite the change for the 40-year-old bachelor.

James Barnes looked once again at the orders he received in the mail yesterday, to report for basic training, followed by officer school. After all the years of being regarded as too soft to be anything but a teacher, Mrs. Barnes only son Bucky was going to war. Not that the staff at the school knew him as Bucky. To them, he was always Mr. Barnes, a quiet, bearded, unmarried man who seemed destined to always be alone. After Ma died, he had been just that as his sisters were busy with their own families. Well, at least with him being in the army, he would be going somewhere, doing something, instead of just being the principal at a grammar school in Brooklyn. He sighed. Maybe, just maybe he could get past his usual introverted nature and go out with a woman before he left. Perhaps he could even finally get up the nerve to ask Miss Heathcott to dinner, or at least a walk in the park. It had only been 12 years since she first joined the staff at the grammar school. He really should have asked her out then when he was still a young man and had more to offer than the confirmed bachelor he now was. How she was still unmarried was beyond him but maybe she was waiting for the right man.

He combed his hair into its usual place, put his vest on and went to the window, just like he did every weekday morning to see the weather, confirming that it looked like another grey winter day. He turned around, taking in his two-bedroom apartment, his haven after a busy day dealing with the stress of running a school. The bookcases full of his favourite titles, the gramophone, and records of the jazz music he loved, were his escape from his loneliness. It suddenly bothered him that it would all be sitting here, unused unless he could find someone to sublet it to, someone who would look after it for him so that when he returned, he could live the quiet life again in his personal haven.

After his usual breakfast of two boiled eggs, toast and coffee, Mr. Barnes washed up the dishes, brushed his teeth, put his jacket on, then his overcoat, and his hat, ready for the brief walk to the subway station. When he got there a lineup awaited him. Now that gasoline and rubber were rationed, many people had to put their cars up on blocks and switch to public transportation. It had made commuting longer and more crowded. He stood in the packed train car, holding onto the strap that hung down from the top bar, trying to keep a respectable distance from the women who had joined the work force since the men were called to war. At his stop, several others got off, going their different ways after leaving the station. It was only a few minutes walk to the school, and he fished his master keys out. Only he and the head custodian had them. Mr. Barnes usually unlocked the school in the morning, Mr. Santucci locked it up at night. He turned on the lights from the master electrical panel, then entered his office, taking his overcoat off. Checking the thermostat, he made sure it read 72°, so that it would be warm for the children by the time they got there. Then he started up the coffee urn in the staff room, before unlocking the staff door, knowing that they would start arriving within the next quarter hour. It was all part of his usual morning routine, and it suddenly struck him how much he was stuck in that rut of duty, habit, and dullness. Leaning against an empty wall he wondered what he had become.

He was still standing in the staff room, waiting for the coffee to finish percolating, so he could empty the used grounds then clean the filter, to prevent the coffee from becoming bitter, when Miss Heathcott arrived. She stepped inside, surprised to see Mr. Barnes leaning against a wall, looking down to the floor but not seeing anything. He seemed a little pensive, then he heard her and straightened up, giving her a small smile.

"Good morning, Miss Heathcott," he said, politely, trying to restore his usual projection of calm leadership. "You're early today."

"I had some final preparations for art class," she answered, taking her coat off and hanging it up in the closet. "Is everything alright, Mr. Barnes? You seem a little preoccupied."

"I am a little," he answered truthfully. "I have an important announcement for the staff, but I'll wait for everyone to arrive before I make it. It will only take a few moments between first bell and final bell." He moved over to a chalkboard in the staff room. "I guess I should put that down so that people return in time to hear the announcement. Coffee is made if you wish to have some. I still have to empty and clean the filter."

"Thank you," she smiled. "I will. I can clean the filter for you, since you were thoughtful enough to get it started."

She poured herself a coffee then opened the top and carefully lifted the filter with the steaming grounds out of the urn, aware that he was watching her. Why it made her a little nervous today was a mystery to her. They had worked together in the school for twelve years, her entire school career. He had been a 5th grade teacher when she started fresh out of college. Promoted to assistant principal ten years ago, and principal four years ago, he was still a handsome man and she had wondered if they could ever have more than a working relationship. But his introverted nature, especially around women, became clear soon enough and she gave up any hope of him noticing her in a romantic sense, resigning herself to being a spinster since other men seemed as indifferent to her. Still, he was always a gentleman, and an effective manager of their staff as he was quite unflappable by the shenanigans of some students, as well as being well respected by the parents.

Leaving the staff room to don his overcoat again and take on the supervision of arriving students, Mr. Barnes greeted everyone as they arrived. There was always a persistent group of children around him, sharing the details of their lives. He took it all in good stride, knowing from experience that for those children from a single parent family, they needed the attention of another adult to hear their thoughts and observations. It was also a way for him to learn who was having difficulties with the necessities of life or dealing with issues that could be overwhelming. For the children who were smaller, weaker, and prone to bullying, he was their knight in shining armour, making it very clear that particular behaviour was not tolerated at his school. It was all part of keeping the school running efficiently while providing a safe learning environment.

Before the first bell sounded, he asked some of the more responsible students in the 5th grade to shepherd the younger students to their rooms as he had a brief staff meeting to attend. When the bell sounded, he made sure everyone was lined up, filed inside in an orderly fashion, then he went straight to the staff room, removing his overcoat along the way. The talking in the staff room stopped as he entered, placed his overcoat on a chair and stepped towards the chalkboard.

"Thank you for being here on time," he said. "There is some important news to share after I received a letter in the mail yesterday. I am to report for basic army training in one month. After 8 weeks I am to attend officer training school, after which I will be sent to the European theatre. I haven't informed the superintendent yet, but I will as soon as the morning classes start. I will recommend that Mr. Miller be promoted to principal in my absence, but the final decision is with the administration of our school district, as are any decisions regarding assistant principal. The parents and student body will be informed once we get the confirmation of the transfer of responsibility."

He waited for questions. Since there weren't any, he nodded his head briefly at the staff, then left, picking up his overcoat along the way. Mrs. Hardy, his secretary, followed a few minutes later, taking her position at the desk in the front office, while he hung his overcoat up. He came out again, to supervise in the hallways before the final bell rang, signalling the start of the school day. Satisfied that everyone was where they should be he returned to the office and sat at his desk to make that phone call to the superintendent's office. With that out of the way, he began dealing with the school budget.

That lasted until two boys were brought into the office by Miss Heathcott, both boys appearing very sullen. She left them in the outer office then appeared at Mr. Barnes' door to explain the situation before returning to her classroom. He couldn't help but watch her leave wondering why it made him feel like he was being left behind. Putting that aside he dealt with the boys' dispute, listening to their versions of it as he sat in his chair, his hand on his jaw. Their dispute was based on a game of marbles that resulted in one of the boys losing his boulder aggie, large agate marble for those who never played. He told them a story of his boyhood friend who died of polio at the age of 10. Steve and he played marbles all the time, regularly winning and losing against each other but never letting the heat of the game interfere with their friendship.

"When he died his ma gave me his marbles, knowing that he would want me to have them. She said I could give them to my sons, except I don't have any because I never got married. You two remind me of us, except we never fought each other or called each other names, other than jerk or punk. I miss him, every day of my life. Marbles are just things, to be won and to be lost. But friendship lasts a lifetime and beyond. Don't let the marbles make you enemies. Now, if you two can show me that you can get along and maybe become friends, I might be persuaded to give you a bag of marbles that have some dandies in them. But you have to prove that you're worthy of them. Can you boys do that for me?"

They both promised and Mr. Barnes walked the boys back to the classroom, making it clear he expected them to apologize to their classmates and Miss Northcott for interrupting the class. With a nod to the woman teacher who smiled warmly at him in a way that he felt deep inside, he returned to his office and the matter of the budget for the rest of the day. When classes were dismissed, Mr. Barnes usually insisted that all teachers make an appearance outside the school, both to make sure the students were dispersed and to be a visible presence for any parents who were there. In his experience he found some parents, especially those from certain families were uncomfortable inside the school but found it easier to approach a teacher outside. Today there were a few inquiries but nothing that wasn't handled quickly. More than once he found his attention drawn to Miss Heathcott, her caramel-coloured hair shining in the winter sunlight and her cheeks pink from the brisk air. Had she always been this beautiful? The answer was yes but she seemed even more beautiful today.

Most of the teachers stayed for a time to prepare for the next day classes, but Mr. Barnes was always the last one of out the school, other than the custodians. It was just the way he was. Walking through the hallways to find out who was still present before he finally left, he was surprised to see Miss Northcott still in her classroom, considering she was in early that morning. He watched her for several moments, unseen by her. Intently focused on some papers on her desk, strands of her hair had worked their way over her face, and he wondered if it was as soft as it looked. Knocking gently on her door frame, he stood in the doorway, as she looked up at him. Her eyes were a little red. Had she been crying?

"You're here late. Is everything alright?"

Embarrassed, she looked away briefly. "Mostly." She gave a nervous laugh. "I know that's not much of an answer. I guess I'm a little concerned about you going to war. It will be different here, without you."

He approached her desk, deciding to be bold for once in his life.

"Would you go out with me?" he asked. "Dinner, or even just a walk on an afternoon this weekend?"

She looked up at him again, noticing how his distinctive blue eyes held their gaze on her. She could get lost in those eyes.

"A walk sounds nice," she said. "Here, or in the city?"

He smiled, his even white teeth adding to his handsome features. "Central Park. I can meet you at the subway or there at the park."

"At the park is fine," she said. "Saturday, at 2 pm, at the boathouse ice rink? Perhaps we can rent skates."

Envisioning the possibility of his arm around her waist as they skated in Central Park he agreed to her suggestion and the date was made. As he waited for her to put her coat and galoshes on in the staff room before he left, he was filled with an anticipation he hadn't felt in years. For the remainder of the week, it was challenging to keep their mind on their work. Both of them, alone and lonely, wondered if perhaps this could be the beginning of something wonderful. It was difficult not to imagine a future together, even though they had no idea if they were compatible beyond a good work relationship. For the first time in a long while, both individuals dared to dream of a future with someone at their side.

Then Saturday morning dawned, and Mr. Barnes looked out his window in dismay at the heavy snow that was falling. Quickly turning on the radio he listened to the announcer describe a weather system that was supposed to go north to Canada, but instead came east to New York. Temperatures were expected to plummet throughout the day. It was suggested that the next few days of snowfall could shut the whole city down with the amount that was expected. Sitting forlornly at his kitchen table, Mr. Barnes made the decision to cancel the date and pulled out his list of teacher names, addresses and telephone numbers. As he picked out Lucy Heathcott's name in the list, he noted her address was within walking distance of his apartment. As the phone rang, he suddenly thought of another way to see her. It was quite improper to ask this of Miss Heathcott, but something told him that if he didn't take this chance, he might regret it for the rest of his life. For too long he had followed the path of least resistance. Now was the time for confidence.

"Carpe diem," he said out loud, just as the receiver on the end was picked up.

"Hello?" said a voice on the other end. He recognized it as Miss Heathcott. "Who is this?"

"James Barnes," he replied. Bold, be bold. "It seems that the weather will make our plans for Central Park unwise, but I wanted to suggest an alternative."

She was quiet for a moment. "I'm listening."

"You don't live far from me," he said, "and I would be willing to come over and walk you back, but would you consider coming to my apartment? We can have lunch, listen to music and talk."

He let out a shaky breath. He had done it, had suggested something as an alternative to cancelling the date. She was quiet again, then he heard it, an almost imperceptible whisper of carpe diem. Was it possible that she also wished to throw caution to the wind and do something completely out of character?

"It's supposed to get worse during the day," she said, hesitantly. "What if by the time I have to go home it is isn't possible?"

It wasn't an outright refusal, but he understood that her reputation was on the line. She was an unmarried woman, in a position of responsibility. If it wasn't possible for her to go home, then she would have to stay at his apartment which could reflect poorly on both of them. He did have a second bedroom. Why couldn't Miss Heathcott be his guest and stay in the other bedroom? That wasn't improper, was it?

"You can stay," he answered. "I have a second bedroom. It was my mother's before she passed away. You would be my guest." He breathed out. Carpe diem. "It's just that I was so looking forward to spending time with you. When I saw the snow, and heard the forecast, it made me feel that perhaps fate was conspiring against us. Then I realized that life is a choice. We either accept the limitations placed on us, or we strive to overcome them. If you insist on returning to your rooming house before dark, I will make sure you get home safely."

He closed his eyes, praying that she would accept.

"Meet me halfway," she said, after a long silence. "I live in a rooming house and the landlady would be bothered by a man picking me up. I'll bring some things to stay, just in case, but I don't promise anything."

An hour later Mr. Barnes met Miss Heathcott, both bundled up enough to cover their faces, but he recognized her scarf and approached her as the snow fell in large wet clumps. Extending his hand, he took her small valise from her, then offered her his other arm for the walk back to his apartment. It was the first time they had ever touched and her presence on his arm felt wonderful to him. They didn't speak until they entered his building and stamped the snow off their feet. In his apartment they removed their galoshes, and heavy overcoats, hanging them up in the closet by the door. Both quickly ran their hands through their hair. He took her valise, leading Miss Heathcott, Lucy, to the second bedroom, handing her luggage to her at the door.

"I'll leave you to get settled," he said. "Would you like a coffee or would a tea interest you?"

"Tea would be nice," she answered. "Milk, no sugar. Thank you ... James."

Lucy came out to a tray set up on a table in the living room, with a teapot, two cups with saucers, and milk. Taking a closer look at the living room space, she thought it felt very comfortable, with good quality furniture and decor. Although it was not what she was expecting it showed her host in a positive light. Noticing the full bookshelves and the record collection she smiled, somehow not surprised at what Mr. Barnes ... James, did to relax. He came out of the kitchen, carrying a small plate of cookies, wearing a pair of brown trousers, a grey shirt, and a pullover sweater with an argyle pattern of brown and grey over it. She must have made a noise because he looked at her, then at himself, suddenly self-conscious.

"I've never seen you wear anything other than your black suit and white shirt," she said. "You look nice, like a different person."

"My first principal insisted on all the men teachers wearing the same suit," he answered. "Said it was a mark of professionalism. It just became a habit, I guess. I usually wear something like this on the evenings and weekends. In the summer I'm even more relaxed in appearance." A compliment on his clothing should be returned. "You look good, too. I've never seen you in slacks."

"With the cold weather I thought it was prudent," she breathed. "You live alone?"

He approached closer to where she stood. "Yes. My mother lived with me as my sisters are married with small children. She became too ill to live at home and had to go into the hospital. She passed away about three years ago. My father died shortly after I graduated from college. I assumed responsibility for caring for my family."

"I'm sorry. My folks are still alive but they're in Illinois. I only get back to see them at Christmas and in the summer."

They both stopped talking and stood there, unsure what to do next. He gestured to an armchair for Lucy to sit in, while he sat on the couch. Pouring her tea first, he handed her the cup and saucer, then poured some for himself. They sipped from their cups quietly, letting the warmth of the liquid rejuvenate them. Sitting back, Mr. Barnes crossed his legs at the knee. Lucy stayed upright in the armchair, crossing her legs at the ankle and angling them to one side.

"How long have you lived here?" she asked.

"10 years," he answered. "After my sisters got married my mother's health took a turn and she was unable to be in a place with stairs. This apartment had elevator access which was easier for her. Taking care of her took up most of my spare time outside of the school and left no time for courting." He sipped again. "I don't want to give it up while I'm away so I'm looking for someone to sublet it while I am overseas."

"It's a very nice place," said Lucy. "It feels comfortable." I could be happy living here. It's much nicer than the rooming house.

He suddenly leaned forward and picked up the plate of cookies offering it to her. With a polite smile, she took one, placing it on her saucer.

"You have an interesting assortment of books and records," she said, after she bit into her cookie. "Have you read all of the books and listened to all of the music?"

"Yes, to both," he answered. "I taught my sisters to dance with those records, and I've been an avid reader since I was a boy. Do you read?"

"Yes. I listened more to the radio for music than bought records. Who's your favourite author?"

"I was first interested in the stories of Edgar Rice Burroughs, Jules Verne, and H.G. Wells, then I discovered The Hobbit by J.R.R. Tolkien. It was like being transported to another universe. Did you know he invented several languages just for the world he created, a place he called Middle Earth? He's a brilliant man."

"I'll have to read it." She ate some more of her cookie. "I'm more of a mystery fan, myself. Agatha Christie is a favourite."

"She is a good writer." He looked towards his bookshelf. "I have the ones with Hercule Poirot in them. He's a fascinating character."

Lucy beamed at James, glad to have found something in common with him. They talked more about books, music, and movies, although both admitted they didn't go to the pictures too often. She offered to help prepare lunch and they talked more in the kitchen about food. They spent the afternoon listening to several radio shows, sharing the sofa. As the day lengthened into the late afternoon, Lucy suddenly moved to the window looking out over the snowy landscape. There were no vehicles about and only a few people were walking. The wind had come up as well, as she could hear it whistle a little bit through the window.

"I should go home," said Lucy. "If I wait until dark it will make it difficult to see where I'm going."

"Don't go." James said quickly. "I am having a wonderful time getting to know you better."

"What would people say if they knew I was here? I could lose my job."

"But they don't know," he answered. "Did your landlady notice you leaving with your valise?"

Lucy nodded then looked down. "I lied and told her I was spending the night with a girlfriend whose husband had just left for England. Said she was nervous about being alone during the snowfall."

Wringing her hands a little betrayed her distress at having to lie. Gently, he placed one of his hands on hers, stilling her motions. It was a little presumptuous, he knew, but he didn't want her to leave. This had been a wonderful time for him.

"I'm glad you're here," he said. "In the morning the snowplows will likely be out, and the footing will be easier to manage." He looked out the window. "By the time we got halfway you would have to walk the rest of the way alone in the dark and I couldn't ... I wouldn't leave you to do that. The odds of your landlady seeing us would increase. Please ... stay."

Her hands were so soft that he was unaware he was gently rubbing his thumb over the back of one of them. She looked at it, then at him and swallowed. Smiling, he released her hands and stepped back.

"I'll stay but you promise to be a gentleman?"

"On my mother's memory," he replied. "I would never force myself on you."

She took him at his word. Even though it was cold and dark outside, inside, in his heart, he felt light and young again. Together they prepared dinner, lighting candles on the table, and listening to orchestral music on the radio. After washing up, they returned to the living room and sat quietly again in the stillness that seemed to amplify the beating of their hearts.

"Would you dance with me?" he asked. "There is always nice music on the radio."

"I'm not very good," she replied, blushing. "I rarely get asked."

"That's alright. Neither am I really. All we have to do is sway and move our feet a little. Please."

She nodded and he turned the radio on, tuning in a station with slow dance music. Taking his hand, she tensed a little at how his other hand touched her back, bringing them closer together. Tentatively, they began swaying to the music, and slowly relaxed into it. He placed his head close to hers, close enough to smell her perfume and became brave enough to tell her something, when The Man I Love came on.

"Every time I hear this song, I imagine I'm in Paris," he murmured. "I'm with a beautiful woman and we're outside a café. The music wafts out onto the sidewalk and the only light is from the streetlamp above. Even though there are others there, in our circle of light we feel like we're alone. It's a warm summer night. I'm wearing trousers and a dress shirt, no tie, and my sleeves are rolled up because of the heat, while my partner is wearing a pretty dress and heels."

She looked up at him, noticing how dark his eyes seemed. Lucy's heart was beating so loudly, she was sure James could hear it, but he just kept looking at her.

"What happens next?" she asked.

"Suddenly, we are alone, as everyone goes inside to refresh their drinks. I brush my fingers along her cheek." He stopped and brushed his fingers just above her jawline. "Then I kiss her softly on the lips and draw her into my embrace."

Looking at his lips she opened hers slightly and he leaned over kissing her gently, pulling her into his arms, as she wrapped her arms around him. It was every bit as nice as he imagined. Her lips were so soft and pliable, and the touch of their tongues sent a sensation into his brain that made him want more. How her body felt, melded with his as they held each other, reminded him of the first woman he fell in love with when he was in college. The memory of how they spent their first night together affected him physically in a way he thought was gone forever. The song finished but neither of them heard the next song be introduced or begin as they kept the sweet connection going. Slowly, he pulled away then caressed her face.

"I've wanted to do that for so long," he said. "Lucy, I know that we don't have long before I leave but would you allow me to see you until then?"

"To what end?" she asked. "I've wanted to kiss you as well, but I want more than just spending time together." She looked away, embarrassed a little. "I felt how your body responded to me as we kissed. I know it's normal in a man, but I've never been in the position of feeling desire that way. I want more."

He gasped slightly. What was she saying? Carefully, he cleared his throat.

"You felt desire for me?" She nodded. That was unexpected. He had accepted her caveat of being a gentleman when she agreed to stay. "It's been a long time since I was with a lady. College, actually. I never expected you to ...."

She put her fingertips on his lips, and he kissed them, softening his gaze on her. He couldn't deny that the thought of being with her in that way wasn't enticing to him, but this was new ground for him. As a man, he wanted it but as a gentleman there was more to consider, especially for her.

What if a child was conceived? It would make him a cad if he was overseas and received a letter from her saying their tryst had produced a baby. She would lose her job, be ostracized, and evicted from her rooming house, although she could live here. He glanced around his apartment; she could live here. What if she did so as his wife? They had known each other for 12 years. They weren't strangers. He was a bachelor; she was a spinster; successful marriages had been built just on that. With the war on, she could continue working as a married woman, if she wanted. He looked at her upturned face, a small smile gracing it, and felt that warmth again. Carpe diem.

"Would you marry me?" he asked. "We could go to City Hall before it closes one day and get the licence and be married next weekend. You could move in here, stay here while I'm away, be waiting for me when I get back. If what we do tonight produces a child, you'll be taken care of. If anything happens to me, all that I have will be yours."

Marry him? Her mouth was suddenly dry, and no words were forthcoming from her lips. A proposal certainly was unexpected. She had crossed a boundary by coming here, then had crossed another by even suggesting they be together physically. Now, he was offering a chance to make it right. He was offering the protection of his name and his home by asking her to be his wife, regardless of what would come from this night. Is that what she wanted? Carpe diem.

"Yes."

Their kiss was brief but deep, intense, and full of anticipation. James, ever the gentleman, wanted to ensure Lucy felt safe with him. He wouldn’t be aggressive with her as it wasn’t his nature. They could begin with sharing a bed and go from there.

"Do you want to change into your nightclothes?" he asked. "We can be in my bedroom or in yours. Whatever you're more comfortable with."

"Yours," she said. "I would like to change. James, do you like me?"

He lowered his eyes and breathed out noticeably. For a moment, she thought he wouldn't answer her or would say that he didn't.

"I have loved you from afar for a long time. If I had a flower for every time I thought of you ... I could walk through my garden forever. Alfred, Lord Tennyson said that, and I have known that I loved you ever since the first day I laid eyes on you. When I return, we'll have a house with a garden full of flowers. It won't make up for the years I was too afraid to say anything, but I will say it now. I love you, Lucy. Now and forever, you will be in my heart."

Nothing else mattered after those words were spoken. The kiss they shared at this moment was more intense and passionate than she had ever imagined a kiss could be. To be wanted so much by a man, and to want him in return was the most wonderful feeling in the world. Right now, this was their world, and they would live by their decisions.

💞 💞

June 1945

The taxi driver wouldn't take the money that Captain Barnes offered to him when he pulled up in front of the Brooklyn apartment building. He saw the medals on the officer's uniform, then noticed the folded up left sleeve of the man's jacket. This was a war hero, a man who lost an arm for his country, a man who made it back alive. Today, he rode free. With a slight smile, Barnes got out of the taxi, reaching in for his duffle bag and grasping the strap with his right hand. As he stood on the sidewalk and looked up at the brick building that he hadn't seen in two years he wondered if Lucy would forgive him for not telling her what happened. Might as well get it over with.

The elevator ride was slow, but it gave him time to think about all that had happened since their quick marriage, and separation after he left. It was only six weeks into basic training that Lucy wrote him about being pregnant. She turned the second bedroom into a nursery, selling his mother's bedroom suite, on his insistence, to pay for the baby furniture they needed. Her letters had been filled with love and longing for the day when they would be reunited.

When he lost his arm, just days before Germany's surrender, he couldn't bring himself to tell her. It was hard to admit that he felt less a man than he did before. He wasn't sure he could return to being a school principal. Would staff and students still respect him without his arm? Then the day came when he got his orders to report to a hospital ship returning to New York. His stump wound was healing well so he didn't need much medical care on the trip back. An army doctor on board told him that as a veteran he could get an artificial arm fitted, admitting they weren't the most friendly looking things, using hooks to replace a lost hand, but gave him a card for a special foundation, funded by the billionaire Howard Stark. He was developing a new type of prosthetic for amputees and wanted men willing to try his prototypes out. It was worth exploring.

The elevator stopped and the door opened. Grasping his duffle bag again, Barnes walked to the door of his apartment and placed the bag on the floor, then tentatively knocked on the door. He could hear Lucy's footsteps approaching, his heart racing with an ominous sense of foreboding. Then it opened, and there she was, looking up at him in surprise. Her arms went around his neck, as she cried, calling his name out over and over again. Wrapping his right arm around her, he buried his now clean-shaven face into her neck, taking in the smell of her perfume and the softness of her hair and skin. Then their lips met, deliriously tasting and sensing that which they had both missed since they said goodbye. Her hands went to his arms, and it was then she noticed, as she looked from where his left arm should have been to his face and back again.

"Your arm ... you lost it." It was said as a statement of fact. He nodded, prepared to explain. "Oh, my darling, my love. If that was the price to bring you back to me then that's how it is. For you are back, aren't you? You are still mine? Still my James?"

"Now and forever," he answered, almost ready to cry in relief. He took in all of her, her face, her hair, her lips, her hands that he brought to his own lips to kiss. "I'm home and I'm never going to war again."

She caressed his face, then kissed him again, a sweet and gentle peck that was just as loving as the passionate one shared moments earlier. Stepping back into the apartment as he picked up his bag, she waited for him to drop it off inside the door, then he took his cap off, placing it on a side table. Leading him into the living room where a playpen held his son, James Barnes Jr., she dropped his hand. The toddler raised his arms to Lucy, and she scooped him up.

"JJ, this is your daddy," she said. "Daddy's home from the war. Can you say hi and give him a kiss?"

The little boy's attention was taken by the medals on his father's uniform, reaching for them with his chubby hands. Holding his right arm out, Bucky held him firmly on his hip, looking at the blue eyes, and Lucy's hair on this beautiful child, his child, conceived on a wintry night when a lonely man and woman, who thought life had passed them by, decided to seize the day and reach for happiness together. His lips trembled and his eyes watered. He had never been so happy, as he was right this moment. What would the future bring? Whatever they willed it.

One shots masterlist

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes fanfiction #buckybarnes original female character #bucky barnes x ofc #james buchanan barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes oneshot #bucky barnes au #james buchanan barnes au #1940s au bucky #introverted bucky #no smut #support non smut

25 notes · View notes

aya-fay · 2 years ago

Text

At gunpoint part II

Author: Aya-Fay

Fandom: Captain America

Pairing: Mobster!Sebastian Stan x fem!Reader; platonic Chris Evans x fem!Reader

Summary: Each of us has our own problems in lives and demons in souls. Some of us cope on our own, some of us need a little help from friends, and some of us go to a psychologist. Every problem has its own salvation, except for one – how to suppress the strongest desire to fuck your psychologist?

Warnings: smut; not protected sex. Sebastian is not really working as a psychologist. He has just taken over his Empire and needed a cover for some time.

Status: In-progress

My Sebastian Stan's masterlist and My Main Masterlist

Part I of this series may be found here: At gunpoint part I

Five years ago.

Dr. Stan's office was a long room, all the illumination of which consisted of two windows that overlooked the courtyard of the neighboring building, which blocked all the sun's rays, preventing them from entering the office even on the clearest days, leaving the doctor's office immersed in pleasant darkness. Opposite the front door was a small marble fireplace. It was flanked by a bookcase, made of solid black oak, with large panels, decorated with intricately carved mirrors, which occupied the entire space of the walls between the front door and the table. This magnificent bookcase contained a collection of rare and valuable books, luxuriously bound in red morocco, with coats of arms on covers and spines... A collection of German classics, Latin authors, and just a few scattered volumes of the most famous contemporary psychiatrists.

Opposite the bookcase, in the wall between the windows, rose a large bookcase for papers, also of carved black oak, and there were folders of red morocco with gold letters on it. That was the exact place where a plaster figurine, about half a meter high, depicting Jung stood on the highest shelf.

On the fireplace, adorned with a medium-sized mirror, were a brushed bronze alarm clock and two brown porcelain vases. The furniture of this dark and secluded room was completed by a large Voltaire armchair upholstered in natural leather, a massive writing desk, and four high-backed low chairs of black oak, upholstered in brown cloth with long silk fringe of the same color.

The whole office is immersed in twilight; long black shadows rise from dark corners to the ceiling; it seems that someone is hiding there and looking at a bright spot above a large table. Without thinking twice, Y/N climbed with her feet into a large leather chair and, pressing her chin to her knees, carefully studied the situation, trying neither breathe nor move.

Dr. Stan who entered the office had not yet noticed her, and therefore she had a chance to examine him better: the man looked to be no more than 35, styled short dark hair and dark eyes were intensely looking for something among the shelves with books. Unbeknownst to Y/N, Sebastian was aware of her presence as well as she was of his, the moment he entered the office. Everyone had their sins.

Smirking, Y/N turned away from the doctor and stared at the magazine, continuing to watch the motionless man from under her eyelashes.

“I always wanted to know if this work with nymphomaniacs too?” Sebastian asked in a low voice, suddenly being in front of the girl, leaning towards her. The tone was partly friendly and trusting, partly tempting. In general, the usual tone of a man interested in a woman. The only difference was that you came here to fight addiction, not surrender to it.

Y/N made an effort to pull herself out of her thoughts and understand what Dr. Stan was talking about.

“What the fuck did you just say to me?”

Sebastian nodded at the magazine in girl's hands, open on an unexpectedly revealing lingerie advertisement. All this time, immersed in her thoughts, she looked at the page, not realizing what was depicted there. And so now, having glanced over the page, she thought that she would not actually mind at all being in the place of the young model, who was tilted to the table, whose legs were spread to the side. The man in his thirties who was holding the model by her neck in place was strangely reminding her psychologist. Male model’s crouch was tightly pressed into female model’s back. The poses were a bit odd so it was probably heavily edited with Photoshop. The meaning of Sebastian's question still eluded her.

“Sir, I still don't really understand what you're talking about.” The girl mumbled noticing how man’s posture changed at the word Sir. Interesting reaction.

“You've been staring at this advertisement for almost five minutes. This indicates a certain interest. Name’s Sebastian” Sebastian smirked fully aware of his sudden non-professional interest in this girl. “Why do you think you are here?” He asked the girl finally sitting in front of her.

Y/N shrugged her shoulders and smiled. “Well, my friend considers me to be a pervert, because I am interested in…” She looked straight into man’s storming blue eyes liking her lips “older man. Daddy issues, you know. What even kind of disease is that? ”

Sebastian chuckled, clearly understanding that if her friend knew about his desires and interests she would sue him not gave her friend for him to cure.

“I think you're right, there is no such disease, and it's quite normal, unless you like old man with bald heads.” His response took her by surprise; apparently she was waiting for a completely different turn of events.

“Would you like some tea?” He asked watching her face closely. She definitely didn’t want to leave. He didn’t want for her to leave either.

She bit her lip derisively, stood up and put her elbows on the armrests of his chair, bending closer to the man, trapping him in her presence.

The man was clenching and unclenching his fists, and the jaws on his cheekbones were trembling, and she almost laughed in his face at how comical and stupid he looked trying to conceal his desire. Suddenly he roughly squeezed her hands, pulled her closer to him so that their noses almost touched. Y/N exhaled raggedly and ran her eyes over Sebastian’s face.

“Listen, if you were not my patient and we were not restricted by ethic I would fuck you right here on the table.” He whispered through gritted teeth.

She freed one of her hands, raised it to her face and playfully bit the tip of her finger, watching with pleasure how his beautiful face was distorted with poorly controlled lust. “How is that a problem? Sir, I am no teenager anymore and I would definitely jump your bones with pleasure.”

Furrowing his eyebrows and staring at young girl incomprehensibly, Sebastian exhaled in confusion, abruptly moved away and dug his fingers into the dark strands, pulling them away from the roots. She raised her fist to her mouth and chuckled softly at his sight, wanting to prolong this moment when such man really looks absent-minded. The only thing she didn’t take into account was the complete silence which let Sebastian hear her laughter clearly. She has already sat on the table resting her hands on it.

“So you are not worried at all?” he asks briefly turning around to face Y/N, loosening his tie, and then taking it off completely. It was much easier to control and cure others than to get hold of his own demons and emotions. With each word she said to him he could feel how impulses run through the whole body, anger that started to peak its head due to her outright impudence finally turned into complete lust and he found himself wanting to fuck this girl in the dirtiest positions.

“I just give in to this game unlike you” she seductively smiles at him, but all her bravado and playfulness disappear instantly the moment she felt a hot hand closing on her neck, and a man's knee pushing her legs apart and a heavy body literally leaning on her now. Looking up, she sees how wildly Sebastian was looking at her and she quickly came to one right conclusion that it would be better for her to keep quiet now.

Swallowing thick saliva hard, she felt his free hand squeezing her waist, pulling her closer and the only thing she could feel is how her legs are trembling in excitement.

“What a fucking tease you are, Y/N,” Sebastian leans down to her and hisses in her face. The fingers on her neck squeeze harder and pull forward, so she automatically leans in to meet the embittered face. “Unbearable, arrogant, deliciously smelling and sexy beautiful tease.”

Normal, mentally stable person would choke on such vulgar words addressed to her and would definitely feel insulted, but Y/N was not such woman. She felt desire flared up inside her as her red underwear became godlessly wet, and she frantically tried to bring her thighs together, ignoring the fact that a man was standing between them.

She only has time to notice a predatory grin on a man’s face with a blurred gaze and before she could even squeak or process what was happening, Sebastian abruptly lowered her onto the table completely while she brought her legs together on his lower back.

“So you are indeed in my game. Did you close the door?” she hoarse with not her own voice when male fingers found their way to girl’s hips and furiously tore expensive nylon tights. She put her hands on his chest, trying to push the man a bit to see the answer to her question. He nodded unable to speak and squeezed her neck harder to shift the focus to himself.

Sebastian lifts up the hem of a light dress to the waist and quickly takes off her soaked underwear. She probably should have been ashamed of such a reaction of her body, but male fingers slide between the labia, and then burst into her body, instantly picking up a frantic pace.

“Did you really think that I would endure your arrogance in front of my nose?” His hoarse voice intoxicated and clouded her mind better than any expensive alcohol, and she rolled her eyes, enjoying it. “Rejoice, Y/N, because I have taken care of the confidentiality of our rendezvous, and I will fuck you properly so the only word would be left in that pretty head of yours. Sir.”

She could feel that she was beginning to choke on her own moans, which, due to the pressure on her throat, could not escape from her mouth, and she frantically tried to inhale at least some air into her lungs, but Sebastian, apparently, decided to ignore her need to breathe.

When his rough lips covered hers with a rough kiss, while his fingers continued forward movements from the inside, pushing the walls apart and pressing on the right points, she surrendered to his hot body. She slid her hips closer to the edge of the table and hooked her hands on the man's neck, responding to Sebastian's kiss with full passion.

Drowning in the animal lust that her psychologist gave her, she did not think about the consequences of their rash sex. Yes, she definitely wanted Sebastian it was pointless to deny, but now she was coming to the conclusion that she would prefer to have him in a more romantic setting, and not when he laid her out on the table the way he wanted himself, and his long aesthetic fingers were fucking her so well that, she was going to surrender to her Sir for a long time. She knew why she was here, but she could feel unknown prick of conscience that she was here by someone’s command.

Breaking their kiss, he moved his hand from girl’s neck to chest and squeezed it hard, pulling out a loud moan from her swollen lips. Y/N threw hr head back and completely surrendered to the sensations of fullness when Sebastian added a third finger while pressing another one on her clitoris rubbing circles. She felt the blood running through the veins, and all the nerve endings and tension that had accumulated during the whole time that she had no sex gathered in one point.

Desperately whimpering, she begged Sebastian to speed up, although it seemed that it was no longer possible to move faster, and when she felt the first weak impulse of orgasm, the feeling of the man’s fingers in her abruptly stopped, leaving a painful emptiness.

In a hurry, she opened her eyes and saw how Sebastian was taking off his pants along with boxers, taking out his cock, pumping it. Putting his member to her entrance, he ran his fingers along the labia, collecting lubricant.

“Lustful little girl, now you will carefully watch right in my eyes the whole time as I will fuck you into this table and I do not advise you to look away or roll your eyes. You will not like the punishment.” Sebastian whispered and entered her, starting to quickly knock her into the table.

Feelings of bliss went beyond her body and soul, and the sight of how a muscular body was driven deep into her, lifted Y/N somewhere higher than heaven, and his tense hand, which squeezed her neck, did not give her any doubt that the man, towering over me, finally took off the mask he was wearing outside of this room.

Biting her lip painfully and clutching the edge of the table with her nails, she inhaled and exhaled convulsively, because Sebastian was fucking her rough, forgetting about teasing all at once. She was swallowed in such unbridled pleasure, when it seemed that she was about to be torn apart by conflicting emotions, starting with a slight pain from the touch of the bodies, ending with a sweet bliss that ran through the veins like a current, with every push of the male body into her as she surrenders to his power.

With another rough push, a quiet moan escaped her lips as she felt how her body, with every movement of the member inside, went into the bliss, and the limbs trembled. She blinked rapidly as she felt the knot in her lower abdomen rip apart, and she moaned loudly, looking into Sebastian’s eyes., finally finding her bliss. He was close as his pace was quickly speeding up. For a moment she saw admiration and satisfaction flash in his eyes, but all this quickly disappeared behind a veil of lust and desire. The moment he threw his head back and growled loudly as he came, was probably one of the most beautiful signs in her life.

“Thank you, Sir” She said in mere whisper not fully knowing what exactly to say.

“Such a good girl I got here.” He smiled, gently and quite unexpectedly stroking her cheek and swollen lips. "So obedient."

With a satisfied grunt, he quickly pulled on his trousers and fastened his belt under her studying gaze, picked up his shirt from the floor and, looking at Y/N with satisfied eyes, quickly buttoned it.

“Get up off the floor, Y/N, and put yourself in order,” he said, sinking into his chair, taking his eyes off her stunned face. “We'll meet soon. I’ll make sure of that.”

Tagging: @thequeenofmythandmonsters

128 notes · View notes

veltana · 2 months ago

Note

your tag #mob aesthetic on that Seb Stan video did something to my brain, so now i think he looks like a mobster in EVERYTHING, which, uh.

like. casual mobster, cozy mobster, mobster getting ready, mobster trying for a better (more child friendly) image, mobster so gd pretty they had to do a photoshoot, and my fave, mobster bored in school

what have you done.

Omg Jean this is HILARIOUS!!! 😂

My absolute favorite is absolutely mobster bored in school! Wheezing! Dying! 🤣🤣🤣 and also trying for a more child friendly image! Like "Hey kids, wanna come join my illegal empire!"

Sorry, not sorry it's Sebastian's fault really! 🤷‍♀️

#but honestly all of these are GOLD #smowkie #veltana answer asks

3 notes · View notes

steelbluehome · 7 months ago

Text

"For the first hour of the film, Stan’s Trump is, deliberately, not the man we know today: his voice has a slight Queens bray, but he avoids all the caricaturist’s tics, murmurs softly and almost tenderly at times, even when describing his ambitious. Stan plays him as he’s written, nervous and unformed and frankly sympathetic"

Little White Lies (click for article)

Mark Asch

The Apprentice – first-look review

Ali Abbasi's attempted takedown of America's previous (and perhaps next) President of the United States, charting his early years under the mentorship of Roy Cohn, lacks the killer instinct.

Did you know Donald Trump is in Paris Is Burning? No, really: in Jennie Livingston’s seismic documentary on New York’s queer ballroom scene, an independent film about people at the margins, there’s an insert shot of a Forbes magazine cover: “What I Learned in the 80s” is the cover feature, and right underneath it, back row center in an illustration of various one-percenters luminaries, there he is, in between check-ins with Willi Ninja and Venus Xtravaganza.

When Trump was elected President of the United States in 2016, so much of American culture became retrospectively seeded with Easter eggs foreshadowing his eventual ascent to the seat of power; future generations, unlike mine, will have no trouble imagining how this could possibly have happened. For so long Trump was present within discourses on business, crime, race, and politics; he was in Home Alone 2 and had a show on NBC; he was a late-night talk-show punchline and appeared at Wrestlemania. He was so ubiquitous, for so long — how could he not have become President?

The point I want to make here is that there is very little we don’t know about Donald Trump; his rise to the White House was accompanied and indeed fueled by wall-to-wall coverage across all forms of media, which during his (first) term as President enjoyed a boom in readership and revenues — there was always another article breaking another new scandal, or unearthing another embarrassing episode from his past that had been hiding in plain sight all along.

It is, then, very difficult to make a movie that has something new to say about Donald Trump, that tells a new story or shows a new side of the most famous person — probably — you’re not supposed to say this — but they’re saying — many people are saying — he’s the most famous person, frankly, that we’ve ever seen, and we’re seeing him more and more. The task before The Apprentice — a biopic telling the story of Trump’s rise in the New York real estate world in the 70s and 80s, abetted by the notorious fixer Roy Cohn — is therefore a formidable one, and it’s not a task to which director Ali Abbasi and screenwriter Gabriel Sherman prove remotely equal.

The film begins in New York City, in the 70s, at an exclusive members’ club where Trump (Sebastian Stan), the twentysomething son of outerboro slumlord Fred (an unrecognizable Martin Donovan), restlessly narrates the power players in the room to his bored date; Trump is an outsider, a striver, palpably uncomfortable — but there, through a doorway, doing the Kubrick Stare, is Roy Cohn, former Joe McCarthy aide during the the Red Scare of the 1950s and infamous lawyer for mobsters and other power players, publicly revealed after his death from AIDS to be a closeted gay man. Cohn takes an interest in Trump, and smooths the wheels for his first big deal, the overhaul of the old Commodore on Manhattan’s then-decrepit 42nd Street.

Trump’s relationship with Cohn was widely reported on during his presidency, so much so that Cohn — a figure notorious enough to have been played by James Woods in a TV movie in the 1990s, and Al Pacino in the HBO miniseries of the Pulitzer-winning Angels in America — has been retconned as primarily Trump’s mentor; a feature-length documentary about him is titled Where’s My Roy Cohn?, after an Oval Office lament. So it’s not exactly newsworthy that the film credits Cohn with teaching Trump to affect a brashness and flair and to learn to attack, deny, and dominate the narrative — nor are these particular novel insights into Trump.

For the first hour of the film, Stan’s Trump is, deliberately, not the man we know today: his voice has a slight Queens bray, but he avoids all the caricaturist’s tics, murmurs softly and almost tenderly at times, even when describing his ambitious. Stan plays him as he’s written, nervous and unformed and frankly sympathetic, genuinely drawn to Ivana (Maria Bakalova) for her ambitions, a finicky and unschooled naïf wandering around Cohn’s decadent parties avoiding the drugs and gay sex. He’s a would-be shark so doughy and vague as to be almost sympathetic, like the budding young Nazi collaborator of Louis Malle’s Lacombe, Lucien.

The almost sympathetic cast of the film’s first hour is, I suppose, a fresh perspective, but equally an offensive and shallow one, driven less by any particular insight into the perverse incentives of American society — the film is remarkably insular, shot largely on soundstage recreations of the Trump home in Jamaica Estates, the penthouse in Trump Tower, the backs of various limos and the offices of various power brokers — than by the dictates of a character arc in which Cohn and Fred are obviously posited as polar opposite father figures, demanding and competitive men after whom Donald models himself and whose approval he seeks.

A number of things change at the film’s halfway mark. The film switches from a celluloid to a digital look — throughout, Abassi and cinematographer Kasper Tuxen ape the period of the action, from seamy red-tinted narrow-gauge for the gritty 70s to a bleary pixelated look that improves throughout the 80s—a gesture that would give the film an appealing momentum and raw texture were the narrative not so wedded to the historical record, with cutesy cameos from Warhol and Rupert Murdoch, and knowing references to the Trump Tower elevators, MAGA, and other future features of American life. Stock-footage montages exposit the eras’ historical context via potted histories of New York City, with an unclear point of view on the cycle of urban decline and rebirth in the postwar era: though lightly in quotation marks, they also seem objective accounts of a general historical record that gives credence to the narrative of White Flight–era NYC as “Fear City” (an image of lawlessness Trump long exploited, first as a developer and then as a demagogue), and of the go-go Reagan 80s, the decade in which Trump applied all of what he learned in the 70s, and of which he became an avatar.

At this point in the film, Stan’s dialogue takes on the familiar turns of phrase, the verbal and physical mannerisms: the diet pill— the pursed lips, the overenunciation and theatrical hand gestures, the addled mile-a-minute grandiose rants and flippant dismissals and breathtaking glibness and oddly matronly cattiness. It’s funny, but hardly virgin territory the years we’ve spent enjoying the work of comedians like James Austin Johnson and that one friend of yours who sends you voice memos in the Trump voice talking about the discourses of the day, impersonators who reshape the news by pushing the man’s implicit grotesquery and absurdity to the fore.

This Trump gets more flagrantly cruel to Ivana, delusional, thin-skinned and aggressive. It’s the kind of charismatic antihero’s journey that might fly in a Scorsese film — arguably the ultimate Trump film is The Wolf of Wall Street — but Abassi and Sherman’s take on the material is largely dutiful. The soundtrack aspires to an incongruously feel-good high-energy looseness that the film doesn’t back up. I’ve never been unhappier to hear Suicide, Pet Shop Boys or New Order, and the smash cut and needle drop that takes us out of after Trump’s rape of Ivana (a scene from her divorce deposition, staged as literally and luridly as you’d expect from the director of Holy Spider) is especially egregious.

Maybe there’s supposed to be a larger point about Trump’s political movement in the way that he’s shown to abandon Cohn as his former mentor’s legal aides and health woes pile up, but Cohn recedes from the narrative in the second half of the film, which is much less grounded in their relationship; though as Cohn weakens from a virus he steadfastly denied, the second hour is his turn to be portrayed more sympathetically than he deserves.

Strong has the same problem in his performance as Stan, in that Cohn is almost as media-saturated a figure as Trump. Strong gives Cohn a low, aggressive voice, slightly nasal and rounded, with casual and cruel inflections tossed out at a Succession-trained tempo; he bobs his neck up and down like a turtle on each syllable, but holds it forward tentatively as if the muscles are atrophying, as Cohn becomes frailer. It’s a credible performance, not remotely campy, but not really anything — there’s nothing here like the perspective on the role as interpreted by, say, the underground theater legend Ron Vawter in his performance piece Roy Cohn/Jack Smith, in which he gave Cohn a shrill, mincing Jewish voice, flaunting the traits most concealed and loathed by his recently deceased subject.

Recognizable figures are a fun challenge for actors, as well as for the hair, makeup, and wardrobe departments tasked with recreating iconic looks that everyone remembers from recent history. This year, election season is also Oscar-movie season, and you can expect some attention from the crafts teams on The Apprentice and maybe Strong or Sherman (one of the many glossy-magazine journalists to enjoy an elevated profile since the Trump years). I’m sure their acceptance speeches will be full of righteous anger directed at the new administration.

PUBLISHED 21 MAY 2024

#the apprentice #the apprentice movie #the apprentice review #sebastian stan #donald trump #jeremy strong #roy cohn #maria bakalova #ali abbasi

4 notes · View notes

book-dragon-13 · 2 years ago

Text

For @the-slumberparty week 3 Artistic Liberty creator event

Based off this prompt:

To have and to hold made me think of weddings, and I decided to combine it with a Mafia/Mobster version of your favorite Sebastian Stan character

@navybrat817 @darkficsyouneveraskedfor

#navy and roo’s sleepover #sebastian stan #bucky barnes #hal carter #nick fowler #moodboard

15 notes · View notes

pastelbatfandoms · 8 months ago

Text

I don't see alot of people shifting for Motley Crue (specifically Sebastian Stan as Tommy Lee & Nikki Sixx) or Corey Feldman...don't judge me...or do idc.

I also have a Mobster dr with my cr husband. Inspired by a "past life"

Dr question of the day! What’s an underrated Dr of yours?

I personally have a dr that’s literally based off a dream i had so i know that’s a rare one but what are your underrated or rare drs? It can be as simple or extravagant as you want. It can a book/series/movie that you think a lot of people dont shift to or it can be smth you totally made up yourself. The only qualification needed here is that it’s not a commonly shifted to sort of place

209 notes · View notes

sebastianstansqueen · 11 months ago

Text

Lost In The Shadows: Part Twelve

A/N: This one is short, sorry, also have began writing my next series, my stuff about that will be up once i'm finished posting this story, hoe you like it, If you want to be Tagged, either send an ask or comment on this or click on Taglist open.

Wordcount: 1,159

Warnings: angst, Guns, Bucky being unaware, Wayne, and Brock if I forgot anything let me know please!

Masterlist // Series Masterlist // Taglist open//

Tags: @cherryblossomsky- - @babylooneytoonz - @wonderlandfandomkingdom - @miraclesoflove - @amelia-song-pond- @leyannrae- @avengerlex - @pineprincess - @nik2write - @dorothea-hwldr - @rosie-posie08 - @scxrletrecsmarvel - @sebsgirl71479- @missvelvetsstuff - @hadesownhell - @casa-boiardi- @winterslove1917- @hallecarey1 - @ash-craze - @barnesxstan - @unaxv - @bethexo07 - @itsmytimetoodream - @sebastians-love - @stoneyggirl2 - @ordelixx - @arunabrak

After the stress of being at the hospital worried sick everyday, Y/n had to admit being at her villa in Italy was a nice change from the compound back home. It was also nice that she was able to get Bucky an arm with the thought of mind that money was no object, so she got the best of the best. The best part was it was just her and Bucky, since everyone back home wanted to keep it hush hush that they were leaving, there wasn’t a security staff always lurking nor did she have any professionals roaming the house like cleaners, and kitchen staff, it felt normal, and she almost didn’t dare say she liked it.

Currently she sat by the pool, while Bucky was swimming laps, she softly smiled to herself as she thought about it. Tonight they were going to roam the city, starting with an art gallery and then dinner. A lot of this felt so domestic to her and she couldn’t fully hate it. “You okay?” Bucky asked, her eyes opened as she looked at him. “I know you’ve been stressed.” And there was also that, if Bucky remembered he would probably understand the why, because technically you were both in hiding.

“Bucky, if anything I’m for once not stressed.” She lied through her teeth, she was more stressed than ever before, because they were stuck in a foreign country Bucky had no memory of the Mafia, and for the first time since taking her family business back she wasn’t the one in control of everything, and she hated that. “If anything, I’m excited about tonight, it’s gonna be romantic.”

As the two of them walked around looking at different paintings, sculpture and other pieces of work. It was nice until a bullet hit one of the paintings, Y/n’s eyes widened. “Get down!” She yelled, she pulled out her own gun that had been tucked away in a secret pouch in her overly big purse, as more bullets came through breaking the glass.

“What the hell is going on?” Bucky asked with wide eyes.

Y/n looked at him. “Believe me Bucky in another life you’d understand, but for now follow what I do.” She aimed her own gun at the glass ceiling of the building, where she couldn’t see even an outline of a person, she took a deep breath in irritation. “Okay, we’ve gotta get on that roof.”

“That’s where the bullets came from.” Bucky hissed out.

Y/n nodded. “I know.” She got up moving, Bucky moved her as she had told him. As people who weren’t dead ran around in panic and fear, and red lights went off with an annoying alarm and people who had gotten shot in the spray of bullets moments earlier laid on the ground crying or dead. She moved around until she found a roof entrance, she began running up the stairs, when both of them made it up to the roof Y/n found who she was looking for meaning whoever it was wanting to kill her had an open air shot to get her. As Y/n saw it was two people, Sharon and Wayne, Y/n scoffed, wind caused her hair to blow everywhere. “You two have got to be shitting me! You're working together?”

They both looked at her with wide eyes. “She betrayed Brock, so I'm here for both of you!” Wayne was the first to speak.

Y/n began to actually laugh. “That’s a good one Wayne, you're working for Rumlow, you're not even stupid enough to do that.”

“You're the one who’s gonna lose out, Y/n, you are the one who lost doing business with him, and you're gonna die for it.” Wayne smiled wickedly, Y/n noticed he looked different; he'd been bulked up or something.

“Are you on that fucking staroids he wants to sell on the streets?” She scoffed able to tell, by the obvious side effects.

“It’s called ‘the serum’.” He said aggressively.

“Oh, please, all those blue crystals are gonna do for you is kill you eventually.” Y/n was taunting him.

“Okay that's enough.” Sharron stopped her from continuing. “I’m killing you, and then taking everything you’ve built.” The blond held up a gun at Y/n, making her do the same.

Y/n, wasn’t aiming for her sister but Wayne, as her finger pressed the trigger Sharons did the same and she ducked down, with Bucky as she watched Wayne fall off the building with blood spreading on his shirt.

Sharon watched and hurried to follow where he fell, jumping off knowing Y/n was giving her one more chance to get her. Y/n liked a game especially with her sister, so she was willing to play it, if Sharon killed her next time she’d win, only getting one more chance to try again, before Y/n would kill her. Y/n looked at Bucky making sure he was alright, he looked shaken up but no wounds, she helped him up. “Are you okay?” She asked, and he nodded. “Okay come on.”

When they got back to the villa she began packing everything they had brought, moving as fast as she could. “Y/n what the hell was that!” Bucky yelled, making her freeze up, stopping what she was doing.

Y/n whipped around. “You're not gonna talk to me like that!” She yelled back. “You're the one who doesn't remember anything, and doesn't know what is going on so you're not gonna yell at me, I’m doing this for your safety, because I care about you.”

“Explain what’s going on then.” He said with irritation.

“My sister, who is a skilled assassin, and a guy I refused to do business with are trying to kill me and possibly you, and that’s how we ended up in the hospital I’m assuming, and your don’t remember this because of what you got in the accident, Bucky I’m a mafia boss and so is your brother, but we’ve gotta go if you want to live.” She spoke with pure urgency, she moved up to him, placing her hand in his, she slowly moved in closer to him, kissing him softly. “Bucky, I love you, and I don’t want anything bad to happen to you, if you come with me I’ll make sure you don’t die.”

Bucky pulled her closer to him. “I’ll go with you, but be honest with me from now on.”

Y/n looked at him and nodded. “Okay, for now pack, I’ll figure out where to next.”

_____

Brock shook his head, as Wayne's feed and tracker turned red, he slammed his hand on the desk, a mix of anger and joy. Wayne had been helpful but soon became a pest on his shoulder, he huffed knowing he needed to know Y/n’s next move. He had to be the one to finish her off.

#bucky x reader #bucky barnes #bucky x you #marvel #bucky x y/n #bucky barnes x reader #sebastian stan x reader #sebastian stan #mob!bucky x reader #james buchanan bucky barnes #mob bucky barnes x reader #mob! bucky x reader #mobster!bucky #bucky x mob!reader #mechanic!bucky x reader #mafia bucky x reader #mafia!bucky x reader #mafia sebastian stan x reader

51 notes · View notes

221bshrlocked · 3 years ago

Text

IX. Saints

Pretend You Don’t See Her! Masterlist

Pairing: Mob!Sebastian Stan x Reader

Words: 4178

Warnings: ANGST! Stressful events. Mentions of blood and betrayal. Rough Sebastian. Soft Sebastian. Stressed Sebastian. Sad Sebastian. One quick handjob. 👀

A/N: This chapter was difficult to get through but I did it and I hope you enjoy it. Only one part left. Let me know how I’m doing in the comments please.

Sebastian could barely keep his hands to himself as he drove through the streets of Hell’s Kitchen, and you giggled when you had to smack his hand away every time he tried to move it up your thighs.

“Tease…” Sebastian narrowed his eyes at you as he traced random patterns on your knees.

“Eyes on the rode Mr. Stan.” You smiled when you noticed the way his expression changed almost immediately. “Oh, do you like it when I call you ‘Mr. Stan’? Does it...make you hard, Mr. Stan? You want me to call you that in front of everyone...Mr. Stan...so they know I’m yours?” Sebastian’s eyes hardened and he felt his heart almost beat out of his chest at the implications behind your words. His cock twitched in his pants and as soon as he looked over, he saw you smiling devilishly at him, eyebrow raised in question as the palm of your hand slowly slid past his arm and onto his lap.

He looked ahead once more, trying to ignore the effect your words were having on him. He truly wanted to know if you meant what you said because if you did, if you really considered yourself to be his, then he would be the happiest man in the world. Sebastian hissed when you dug your nails into his inner thighs, unintentionally making him step on the gas paddle for a moment before he slowed down.

“Fuck.” He swore and glanced at you quickly before gripping the steering wheel tightly to try and control himself.

“Hmm, I’ll keep that in mind then.” You giggled when his hold on your thigh tightened, and you decided to remove your hands from him so he wouldn’t kill you when you got to his place. Sebastian glanced at you again and was about to ask you something when his phone rang. Sighing in annoyance, he let go of you and took his phone out of his breast pocket, rolling his eyes when he saw Chris’ name on the little screen.

“Don’t worry I didn’t go t-”

You looked over when Sebastian didn’t finish his sentence, sitting up when you saw him looking at the rear view mirror a few times as he swore beneath his breath.

“Fuck...n-no, I was just- we’re on our way back to my place. I didn’t...fuck I didn’t even consider that...I fucking know that now asshole.” You tried to catch his attention so he would tell you what was happening but he purposely ignored you, taking a few calming breaths as he listened to Chris’ plan.

“Ok, ok. How fast can you get there?” Sebastian finally looked at you, and you could tell he was more worried than angry when he shook his head and avoided your gaze.

“Don’t let anyone see you. You still have the key right? Fuck, ok yes I’m sorry I just- Chris. I- I’m not…” You could vaguely hear Chris’ frantic voice on the other end of the phone, ringing your fingers nervously when he continued to cut Sebastian off before he hung up.

“What’s going on?” You grabbed his hand and intertwined your fingers together, almost hissing in pain when Sebastian painfully tightened his hold.

“Do you trust me?”

“Sebastian please you have to tell me-” You ignored his question in an attempt to have him tell you what was happening.

“Do you trust me? Y/N...please.” His plea broke your heart and you took a deep breath through your nose before raising his hand to your lips. You kissed his knuckles and nodded at him.

“With my life.”

Sebastian wasn’t sure if he felt absolutely elated at your answer or incredibly worried. Under any other circumstances, he would have smiled and kissed you before telling you how much your words meant to him. But he needed to focus so he didn’t get you killed.

“We’re being followed and- I’m fairly certain they managed to get inside my place. Chris has a plan but I just- I don’t want to lose you but there’s no other way to deal with this so we’re going to let it play out and...fuck, I’m sorry Y/N. I’m so sorry. This was never meant to happen. I need you to trust me darling and know that whatever happens, I promise...I swear on my life I won’t let anyone hurt you. I’d die before letting anyone lay a hand on you.” Sebastian’s hold tightened around your hand and you nodded at him before looking at the side mirror to see a large black SUV tailgating you.

“What do you want me to do?”

“As soon as I stop, I’ll walk out and open the door for you. Whatever you do, don’t leave my side unless I specifically tell you to do so. Understand?” Sebastian glanced over and felt his heart break when he saw the way you were looking at him, as if he wasn’t the one putting your life in danger right now.

“No, no I don’t want to leave you. Please Seb I-”

“Darling I’m begging you. I need you to listen to me and to Chris. Alright? You can trust the two of us. Don’t listen to anyone else, just the two of us. Okay?” He shook your hand so you could respond to him, sighing in relief and annoyance when you agreed but tried to say something else.

“Y-yeah alright but-”

“No, no buts. Follow our lead and don’t second-guess either of us.” His voice was much rougher now and you knew better than to try and argue with him, realizing that even if he didn’t have things under control, he would soon. He promised.

Ten minutes later, Sebastian was pulling up in front of a large estate and as soon as he shut off the car, he was walking out and around the car, not wasting a second so he didn’t seem suspicious. You stand up and grab his hand, trying your hardest to not look at the headlights growing closer to the gate. Sebastian nodded at his men and you gulped as you made your way through the iron gate. Why didn’t he just drive through?

He kept his arm around your waist and surveyed his surroundings before pushing you up the stairs. Sebastian looked down at his watch before attempting to put you at ease with a smile. You wrapped your arms around yourself and waited for him to unlock the front door of his mansion before following through. You were about to walk to the stairs but Sebastian grabbed your waist and pushed you towards one of the rooms on the side. He took a deep breath, clenching his jaw when he realized the two of you were not alone. He was about to ask you if you needed anything to drink when he noticed the man sitting on his desk.

“Welcome home lovebirds!” You turned around immediately and saw Felix stand from the desk. You tried to see if there was any way out but saw four men blocking the door you and Sebastian just came through.

“I don’t remember sending an invite Felix,” Sebastian moved to the side, pretending to accidentally bump into you so you could stand away from the pack of wolves invading his space. You watched as he calmly poured himself some Whiskey, not looking once at you as he nodded towards the large flash of alcohol. “Help yourself.” He glanced quickly at you before taking a step towards the window and looking outside.

“Oh believe me, I will. The sample was just...not enough if you catch my drift. It looks so sweet too, but I’m sure it burns a little.” Sebastian clenched his fist tightly at the implications behind his words, trying his hardest not to do anything for your sake. Taking a deep breath, he turned around and walked around the couch, placing himself between you and Felix.

“Why don’t we cut this little game short Felix? Hmm...come on, you and I both know there’s no way out for me this time. Go ahead, ask me what you’ve been dying to ever since you found out about my dinners with Tanaka. Better yet, I’ll tell you what I know and then we can see if the story the Yakuza told me matches yours or not. They told me that they’re trying to cut you out of whatever fukcing deal the two of you and the Italians have been working on because, and I quote, “I’m less of an asshole than you.” Now, I know that’s a lie because from the looks of it, those three over there aren’t yours. As a matter of fact, they’re probably your future partners’ men ensuring your end of the bargain is met, that of course being my head on a platter. Am I getting warmer?” You watched as Sebastian downed the rest of his drink and couldn’t help but notice the way Felix tried to push down his aggravation. You realized Sebastian wasn’t meant to know any of that and you marveled at how far he was willing to go to try and be in control.

“My god, I told them not to underestimate you. I gotta give to you Sebastian, you sure know how to make everyone think you’re a moron.” Felix smiled dangerously before taking his gun out and pointing it straight at Sebastian’s head.

“NO!” You couldn’t control yourself, clamping your hands down on your mouth when Felix narrowed his eyes at you before moving past Sebastian.

“And you, my little saint. I can’t tell if I want to thank you or fucking rip you to pieces.” He walked around you and made sure Sebastian was looking before wrapping his hand around your throat and squeezing it. “Boy am I going to have fun with you.” He licked your neck and you tried to turn away from him but he didn’t let you. Looking at Sebastian, you saw his eyes twitch with something feral before he spoke again.

“You don’t want to do that Felix.” Sebastian warned slowly, keeping his hands in his pockets to prevent himself from taking out his guns and shooting everyone.

“Oh really, because from the looks of it, you’re outnumbered. So, I think I’ll do whatever the fuck I want Seb.” Felix leaned down and was about to whisper something in your ears when the bookcase behind Sebastian suddenly opened.

You were pushed to the side immediately, and you watched as Felix and his men aimed their guns at Sebastian and Chris.

“Oh it’s my lucky night isn’t it? I get to take down the Wolf of Hell’s Kitchen, and his bitches.” Felix kept his gun aimed at Sebastian and you didn’t dare to move, watching as Sebastian remained motionless and looked at Felix with a raised eyebrow.

“He’s right Seb,” Chris broke the awkward silence and you didn’t know what he was referring to until he moved to stand in front of Sebastian, and pushed his gun at the center of his forehead before he spoke again. “You are outnumbered.” Your heart ceased to beat when you realized that Chris was probably in on it the entire time.

If Sebastian was surprised at the turn of events, he didn’t show it, opting to nod in silence and sadness because the last thing he expected was for his long-life friend, whom he considered as a brother, to turn against him.

“Well isn’t this a surprise?” Felix walked and stood to the side, watching as Chris cocked back the gun and pushed it harder into his friend’s skull. Chris finally looked at Felix and laughed, “Who the fuck do you think was feeding Aaron all that information?” You silently cried when you heard Chris’ betrayal, watching as Sebastian turned to you and smiled before shutting his eyes and accepting his fate.

“Why are you doing this?” Felix asked and you cringed when Chris laughed in Sebasitan’s face. “Because I’m tired of pretending like he isn’t the biggest asshole in this city. And because I can help you with your deal...once I’m in charge at least.”

“Nothing is free Chris. What do you want?” Felix growled out, and turned to Sebastian when Chris finally answered.

“Her.” Chris nodded towards you and took away his gun as soon as Felix agreed.

“Done.”

Felix stepped back as Chris made his way around the room and stood in front of you, roughly grabbing you by your arm before violently pushing you through the hidden door.

“You’ll remember this agreement then?” Felix asked Chris and you cried when the man you thought you could trust nodded and told you to shut up.

“Seb no please-” You tried to call out for him but Chris kept on pushing you through the dimly lit hallway. You were snapped out of your haze when you came to the end of the tunnel, about to scream and kick at Chris when he quickly shut the door behind him.

“Are you okay?” Chris barely managed to breathe out before you slapped him across the face. He stretched his jaw and hissed out in pain, shaking his head as he rolled his eyes at you.

“Fuck, alright I didn’t realize it would hurt this much but...I deserve that.” He pushed the gun back in his holster before moving across the room to the computer.

“How could you? He- he’s your friend. I..oh god I trusted you. Please I-”

“Shut up.” Chris cut you off and you narrowed your eyes at him before moving across the room.

“Excuse me? Don’t tell me to-”

“Y/N please I know how this looks but I need you to shush so I don’t hurt Seb by accident.” Chris held your gaze and you tilted your head to the side before walking around the desk, eyes widening in surprise when you saw clear footage of the room you were just in.

“You...this is- you mean…”

“I’ll explain everything in a minute but please, I can’t lose him.” Chris pleaded with you before returning to the laptop and taking out his phone. You couldn’t look away from the screen, silently praying that nothing would happen to Sebastian.

“Is everyone in position?”Chris asked and you could vaguely hear a couple of responses ringing through the speaker.

“Whatever you do, don’t hit Felix. Understand?” Chris warned and you frowned when his words finally registered in your mind.

“What? No wait that’s not-”

“Fucking hell I- Y/N, listen to me. I need you to trust me right now, please. This is what Sebastian wants. I promise you nothing will happen to him.” Chris took your hand in his and squeezed it, attempting to put you at ease before focusing on the screen again.

“When your men are ready Tony…”

You weren’t sure how long you held your breath for but one minute, everything was silent, and the next thing you know, the four men standing around Felix and Sebastian were falling to the floor. You sobbed in relief and felt your chest tighten when Chris took you in his arms. He looked back at the screen and smiled when he saw that Sebastian already had the upper hand on Felix.

“Cut the feed Chris.” You heard Sebastian loud and clear through the mic and turned to Chris to ask him why you couldn’t go back to him.

“I’m sorry Y/N...for all of this. I’m going to be honest with you, you won’t like it if you see Sebastian when he...it’s not a pretty sight. And he doesn’t want you to know what he’s capable of. All I could tell you is, he’s safe now and so are you. Can you wait here for a few minutes? Please.” You could tell Chris was trying to protect you from really understanding what they do in their line of work and a part of you was glad that even after all of this time, neither men lost their humanity and made sure someone like you wasn’t exposed to more, unnecessary violence.

“O-okay...and I’m sorry that I slapped you.” Chris wiped away your tears before smiling down at you. “That’s alright sweetheart. Now, I’ll only be gone for a few minutes. But keep this with you anyway.” He took out one of his guns, quickly showing you the safety and telling you what to do should anyone somehow walk in.

You took his seat and shut your eyes to try and calm yourself, cursing at the room when you couldn’t remain seated anymore. The events of the last hour were giving you whiplash and you weren’t sure if you would be able to calm down if you didn’t see Sebastian. Looking to the door, you grabbed the gun quickly and opened the way to the tunnel, whispering your apologies to Chris and hoping he wouldn’t be angry with you. As you ran through the tunnel, you tried to prepare yourself for the worst. From the sounds of it, Sebastian was capable of doing a lot and a part of you knew that already, but like Chris said, it was probably different if you ever witnessed any of it.

When you did finally reach the end of the tunnel, you took a deep breath and pushed open the door, stepping into the light and taking in the state of the room. The windows were shattered from what you assumed were Tony’s men and you slowly stepped around the desk, almost dropping the gun and gasping when you saw the scene in front of you.

Sebastian’s front shirt was soaked with blood and it took you a few seconds to realize that it wasn’t his blood but Felix’s. When you looked past him and saw Felix fighting to breathe, you whispered a quick ‘oh my god,’ and dropped the gun. Sebastian snapped out of his haze and immediately stood up, wiping sweat away from his lips and fixing his hair, not that any of it mattered when he looked like he was working in a fucking slaughterhouse.

“D-darling, I-” His voice broke and you gulped nervously when you noticed the knife in his hand leaking blood on the carpet. Sebastian took a step towards you and felt his world shatter around him when you took a step back away from him. You could tell the exact moment he began to spiral down in his thoughts because he looked back to Felix before leaning down and taking the gun you dropped, not caring that you were in the same room as he aimed it in between Felix’s eyes and shot him once.

Not a second later, you heard Chris coming through, immediately halting in his steps when he took in Sebastian’s state. He turned to you and clenched his jaw tightly, realizing his mistake might have cost his friend the most important thing in his life.

Taking a deep breath, you surprised the two men as you stepped forward and took the gun from Sebastian’s hand, setting it down on the table before grabbing his hand and leading him out of the room. Chris said nothing as he watched you lead Sebastian out of the office, quickly checking that everyone was, in fact, dead, before he followed you out. He looked up just in time to see you ascending the stairs with Sebastian behind you, and he marveled when he saw you take Sebastian’s other hand into yours to try and catch his attention.

Chris could only smile as he took out his phone and called for Tony so he could help him figure out a way out of this mess.

Back upstairs, Sebastian was trying his hardest not to let go of your hand and run away from you. He couldn’t say anything, his mind replaying the moment you stepped away from him when he tried to assure you that he meant you no harm. He was almost robotic in his movements, letting you lead him through his home and hoping his willingness would make you less fearful of him.

You weren’t sure where his room would be but it occurred to you that it didn’t really matter. You needed to get him out of these dirty clothes and make sure that he was okay. You hated how passive he was with you but you had a feeling it was his way of trying to put you at ease. You wished you could break the silence and tell him why you actually moved away from him downstairs but you had a feeling this wasn’t the right time for this kind of talk. When you came upon a door that wasn’t a bathroom or an office, you pushed through and shut it when he walked behind you. Turning on the lights, you left him at the door as you moved towards one of the other doors, sighing in relief when you opened it and found a large bathroom.

You tiptoed back to Sebastian and took his hand again, pulling him towards the large glass doors before turning on the hot and cold shower knobs until the temperature was lukewarm. Turning around, you noticed that he was still refusing to move or even look at you so you wiped your hands together and ignored the red seeping under your nails. Very slowly, you stepped towards him and began unbuttoning his shirt. You could see his chest rising and falling under your touch and hoped you weren’t pushing him. Taking off the jacket and the gun holster, you turned around and pulled the shirt out of his pants, making quick work of his cuffs before throwing the drenched article of clothing away from him.

With each layer you took off, Sebastian felt his walls tumbling down and he found it more difficult to break the silence when he felt you kneel at his feet to help him out of his shoes and socks. He bit his cheek when you moved to his belt and took it out of the loops, letting it fall to the ground before unzipping his pants and pushing them down his thighs along with his boxers. Taking a deep breath, Sebastian finally dared to look up and meet your eyes, and he couldn’t help the shaky breath that escaped his lips when he saw the way you were already staring at him.

You smiled up at him before quickly taking your clothes off, and Sebastian couldn’t help but notice the way you were being less careful with yourself than with him. He was naked in front of you, both physically and metaphorically, and he wasn’t sure what he’d done to deserve someone like you being so patient with him.

He looked to the floor once more when more of your skin became available to him, gulping loudly when you stepped out of your clothes and took his hand in yours before moving to the shower. The room was already humid and foggy from the vapor twirling across the walls and he felt his muscles relax as soon as you pushed him beneath the water. Neither of you said anything as you massaged his chest and his arms and his hands until there was no longer any red staining his smooth skin.

He shut his eyes and let you wash him from head to toe, finally allowing himself to step closer to you and wrap his arm around your waist when he felt your small hand take hold of his cock and work him through until he came with a soft moan in your neck. You laid kisses across his neck and chest as you continued to rub and twist the head of his cock. When you felt his knees buckle, you let go of him and let the water run down his muscles before shutting it off and taking the towels hanging on the glass door. You wrapped one around you quickly before turning around and twisting one around Sebastian’s hips, pulling him out of the shower and back into the large room.

You left him standing in front of the bed as you made sure the door was locked. Dimming the lights of the room, you made your way back to Sebastian and stood in front of him, immediately dropping your towel and pulling on his dampened one until it fell to his feet. You could tell that Sebastian was holding back from the way his jaws clenched and his eyes shut tightly. This might have been more difficult that you anticipated.

Not caring for how sudden your motions might be, you roughly pushed on his shoulders until he fell back on the bed, his eyebrows furrowing at your actions only to raise in surprise when you moved to straddle him. His hands unintentionally moved straight to your hips and Sebastian watched as you leaned down over him, his cock twitching when he felt your nipples caress his skin right before you kissed him.

“Make love to me Seb.”

Pretend You Don’t See Her (Sebastian Stan x Fem!Reader ||| Mobster AU)

@feelmyroarrrr @yallneedtrek @talk-geek-to-me @lovecatystuff @scuzmunkie @diablefatale @ayybtch @searchingforbuckyfavs @that-damn-girl @ruthyalva96 @pizzarollpatrol @calwitch @maybeisthemoon @metalarmsandmanbuns @saliarheva @becs-bunker @gogomez-509 @hailmary-yramliah @sycochick @evilxcupcakexnik @redgillan @dragonqueen0606 @sydthekid1518 @bbmommy0902 @honey-bee-holly @godohammers @mazarinqueen @ladifreakingda @duhh-danielly @buckysoldierstories @prettyboyswow @siana2208 @infinity-saga @g4y-lolita @clarissahaan @le-tha @booya--18 @superhero-missouri @i-stan-stuff @stuckyinamoose @this-is-serenaa @sweettangeriness @sergantbuckybarnes @cynic-spirit @bisoubarnes @som-iserem @krazykiara @buckys-estrella @clintbartonswifee @thesoftdumbass @marvelous-capsicle @2s0uls @kcd15 @bitchierrichie @paranjaperiyauniverse @romanosgirl1978 @iwillmakeyoucraveme @luckyfiction17 @bitterstar88 @lostinspace33 @niknoca @tumblstreets @minetticatinwonderland @the-endoftime @coraz0ndcristal @dancingalone21 @sweetlittlegingy @spideyxstan @calwitch @nerdy-bookworm-1998 @positionsfyou @poeta-nascitur @nevenabadr @tanyaherondale @brooke-supernatural16 @wonderkandfandomkingdom @ahsokalives @cheekygeek05

Sebastian Stan: @libbymouse @its--fandom--darling @princess76179 @miraclesoflove @freeshavocadoooo @talk-geek-to-me @words-way-of-life @niall7inches @nevenabadr @atashi-no-yuuki @lostinspace33 @planetariumx @brooke-supernatural16 @leannawithacapitala @wonderkandfandomkingdom @cheekygeek05 @gothicxbarbie

#Mobster!Sebastian Stan #Mob!Sebastian Stan #Mobster!Sebastian Stan x reader #Mob!Sebastian x reader #Mobster AU #Mob AU #Sebastian Stan x reader #Sebastian Stan fanfiction #Sebastian Stan Smut #Mobster Sebastian Stan AU #sebastian stan

90 notes · View notes

extremelyblackandwhite · 4 years ago

Text

handmaid - 37

PAIRING: mob!sebastian stan x ingenue!reader

WARNINGS: age gap

A/N: this chapter is gonna be the last one and i think i’m gonna need therapy for attachment. finished this chapter after seeing seb’s baby pictures and now i think i need double the therapy. hope you enjoy this chapter, it has been such a pleasure to write for you, it’s been my absolute honour to read all the comments and to offer you this story. thank you so so much for all your support x

A YEAR LATER

Y/N woke up in her bedroom with the sounds of birds chirping, the signs that another spring day was starting to wake up in Paris. Extending her arms, she remained under her weighted blanket for a while, watching the chandelier above their bed. It had been a wedding present from her mother’s part of the family and while both her and Sebastian thought it was a bit too much, they eventually got their contractor to install it in their bedroom in their Paris apartment. It had taken a bit of time to get used to but now she had the ritual of waking up and watching the sun create little rainbows through the clear crystal of the chandelier.

After she felt her awake status surround her whole being, she left her bed, grabbing her dressing gown and wrapping herself around it before taking to the room next to her. Slowly and carefully, she pulled on the handle of the door down, opening it. Her eyes came in contact with the peaceful grey colours of the walls slightly decorated with small little ivory coloured clouds. Coming in closer, she let her hips slightly hit the white crib where the one year old was standing, wide awake with the ear of Sebastian’s old toy bunny, Oreo, in his mouth.

- Hello my little bunny. - she smiled down at her son who, recognising his mother’s voice, immediately started to giggle, extending his arms up to be picked up by her. Y/N merely smiled, extending her own arms towards his crib to pick him and hold him against her chest. - Let’s go have breakfast. Can you say breakfast?

- Dada. - he said with a smile that showed he was proud of himself. She rolled her eyes at the word, if there was something Sebastian had done perfectly was make sure their son’s first word would be dada and while Y/N had been trying to make sure Nate spoke anything else, he only proudly said dada much to her nuisance. Y/N merely smiled as she rolled her eyes, getting him off his grey onesie and into a white shirt with little train drawings and some dark jean overalls. - Dada, dada!

- Say mumma. - she laughed, holding him close as she took to the kitchen where Amelia was starting to cook some breakfast. - Mumma.

- Dadda! - he broke out in laughter, wrapping his chubby arms around his mother’s neck. Y/N merely smiled, sitting down on her chair and pulling the high chair with her foot, popping the tray off so she could sit the baby down who was never happy whenever she strapped him to his high chair which is why Sebastian normally did it himself, but as of today he was still in New York dealing with some business transaction gone wrong. Normally Y/N would’ve travelled along with him but ever since Nate had been born, she had been paranoid someone would try and harm him.

- Morning, Mrs. Stan. - Amelia placed a plate of Y/N’s favourite breakfast, poached egg on mushrooms in front of her and a blue plate of slice bananas in front of baby Nate whose hands immediately went for the slices. - Are you sure you don’t want me to bake the cake for baby Nathaniel?

- Your holiday started yesterday, Amelia. You shouldn’t even be here.

- It’s baby Nathaniel’s birthday.

- So it isn’t due to my husband? - she raised an eyebrow at the maid. - You don’t need to worry about me, I’ll be fine.

- Mr. Stan is worried.

- Mr. Stan is always worried. - to say that Sebastian had upped security since the ill fated Mr. Williams incident was an understatement. If Y/N left the house to go to the bakery, four armed men would follow her around with one in front, one in the back and two on each side. Yet, that was nothing compared to when Nathaniel went outside. She guessed it was a regular thing, after all her small little ball of sunshine was the one who would one of day solely inherit her mother’s fortune, her father’s family and Sebastian’s too. Either way, he was excessive with protection and she should’ve guessed he wouldn’t have allowed her to be alone with their son for a long while. Before she could try and convince the hardworking full time maid to take her much deserved holiday, Nate grabbed his plastic plate, smashing his face against the banana slices making her choke in a laugh. - Alright bunny, that’s enough bananas.

- Don’t be upset at him, Mrs. Stan.

- I won’t if you take your holiday. - Y/N pushed her plate away from her, walking to her son’s high chair. Nate extended his chubby arms towards her, cooing to be removed from it which she complied to, holding him to her chest as she walked over to the living room that was filled with toys and other things belonging to Nate. He was spoiled but in this Y/N couldn’t completely blame Sebastian as she could be even as bad as him when it came to fullfilling her son’s requests.

Placing him on his baby matt, Nate turned onto his belly crawling over to her mother’s knees, looking up at her with a look that could only be described as cheeky. Y/N lowered to her knees, watching as Nathaniel crawled around happily with his toy bunny. He still didn’t say much and was still learning to how to walk, instead putting himself up on his legs, holding onto the couch before eventually collapsing to the ground. Speaking of which, the one year hold grasped onto the white leather and pulling himself off the ground and on his chubby legs, the other hand firmly gripping onto the bunny’s ears.

- Do you wanna try and walk all the way to mumma? - she asked the blue eyed baby who looked away from her and back again. - Go on, come to mumma.

Nate looked at her with confusion, the eyes he had definitely inherited from his father looking around the room almost as if he was preparing to fall into a pit of fire. With Oreo clenched by the ear, he let go of the couch, standing on his chubby baby legs. Before he could take another step, he went tumbling towards the ground yet Y/N was faster than that, moving so she could catch her baby before he got hurt. As he collapsed on her lap, he turned his head up to look at his mother, pouty lips and tear filled eyes.

- It’s okay, baby. It’s okay. - she pushed the brown curls away from his face, leaning down to kiss the top of his head. - It’s okay, mumma will always be here to catch you.

- Mumma. - he babbled, burying his head on her chest.

- What did you say? - she looked down in disbelief but before the baby could say it again the front door opened, a very familiar voice coming through.

- Where’s the birthday boy? - Y/N rolled her eyes, picking Nate up and getting up before walking to the entrance where Sebastian was taking his jacket off, placing away his gun before his wife could complain to him about weapons near the baby. His eyes shined with pride as he watched Y/N stand in front of him, holding their son on her arms, who had taken to hide his face in the middle of her hair. - Someone’s shy today.

- Guess what. - she walked closer to him, pecking him quickly. - Nate said mumma.

- No way. - Sebastian cooed at his son, caressing the top of his head. - You can say mumma, little buddy?

- Dadda! - Nate shrilled out of pure joy, extending his arms towards him which Sebastian gladly took, kissing the side of his head.

- You know, Seb, next time you ask the maid to watch over me at least let me know. - she leaned against him, head on his shoulder. - My father’s security can handle me and Nate when you’re not around, I told you that a million times.

- Can you blame me for wanting you and him to be safe?

- No, I can however blame you for making the hardworking maid work overtime. - she smirked. - How’s New York?

- It’s rather bleak when you’re not there.

- Did you speak with my father? - she questioned, fully knowing Sebastian would probably be questioned by her family back in New York at arrival.

- Yes and both him and Dan think it’s rude that they’re not invited to Nate’s birthday.

- Nate’s not getting a big birthday party, I told them.

- I know, angel, but you know how much your father likes this little bunny. - Sebastian smiled at his son who had taking to munching his jacket’s collar, eyes looking into the ones exactly like his. - Pretty sure the only reason I’m not dead is because I’m his dad.

- C’mon, we need to take Nate’s cake out of the fridge and sing happy birthday before his nap time.

- It’s his birthday, angel. Can’t he skip night time?

- Sure, he can. However if he does then we lose night time fun as you’ll be the one to check on him when he tries to climb out the crib.

- Birthday cake time it is. - he followed Y/N into the kitchen, placing his son on his play matt. The baby rolled around, hands gripping several of his toys while his father went to the kitchen, wrapping his arms around his wife’s waist, placing a kiss on her shoulder. - Did you miss me?

- Of course I did. - she turned around to kiss him, hands on top of his shoulders as if they hadn’t seen each other in years. - It gets awfully cold when you’re alone in a king size bed.

- Mhm, it does get very cold, doesn’t it? - his hands toyed around with the string that held her wrap up dress in place. - Does our son’s birthday also count as my birthday?

- Why would it count as your birthday? - she furrowed her brows.

- It’s the anniversary of when I became a father and I think I deserve a little present. - he leaned down to kiss her neck.

- Well, I think th ...

- MUMMA! - the babyish voice coming from the living room interrupted her sentence and made Y/N look over Sebastian’s shoulder to see Nate standing on his chubby legs as he took a few small steps towards the kitchen table.

- Oh my god. - she ducked under Sebastian’s hold to meet her son midway, grabbing the polaroid camera on the way to take a photo before he fell down or decided to sit down. - You’re walking. Nate, you’re walking!

- What? - Sebastian turned around, joining his wife who was now sat on the ground with her arms opened towards Nate who quickly walked over to her before falling on top of her chest. - He walked, he just walked!

- I know. - Y/N picked the baby up, kissing his little fat cheeks. - I’m so proud of you, I’m so proud of you baby Nate.

- I can’t believe he’s walking already. We need another one.

- Sebastian, we just had one.

- Yeah but he’s walking and he can say mumma and dadda. In no time he’ll be going off to university and won’t want snuggles anymore.

- Honey, Nate can’t say anything other than mumma and dadda, is still eating soft solids, and he doesn’t even have all his teeth yet. He won’t be going to university any time soon.

- No, I think we need another one. A girl this time, so we have one of each.

- Seb, darling, I don’t think that’s how it works. Besides, wouldn’t you rather wait til Nate is a bit older and doesn’t require attention all the time?

- I know, it’s just that looking at you with our son makes me want to have at least 10 more kids.

- I won’t push 10 more kids. - she laughed, kissing his cheek before looking down to Nate who was cuddling her and his bunny. - For now, for now I have everything I could have ever dreamed of.

- Should we get that cake then?

- It’s in the fridge. - Y/N carefully got up, holding her precious baby close to her chest as Sebastian went and grabbed the little cupcake. The ex handmaid placed her son on his high chair as Sebastian put the little cupcake in front of him, lighting a single candle with his lighter which immediately caught the attention of small Nate whose eyes widened in pure joy and curiosity.

The mob boss wrapped his arm around his wife, kissing the side of her head before the two of them started singing Happy Birthday to little Nate who was clearly more interested in the flame of his candle. Once the song came to an end, both of them cheered, clapping at the baby who looked at his parents in confusion.

- C’mon, Nate blow the candle. - Sebastian took to be by his son’s side, making a blow motion with his lips. Nate merely turned to his mother, confused at his father’s actions.

- Why don’t we do it together? - Y/N stood by her son’s other side, blowing the candle together with Sebastian while Nate giggled, clapping his hands out of pure joy. - Happy Birthday, sweetheart. Mumma loves you, dadda loves you.

The rest of the day went rather uneventful, with Nate making both his parents laugh as he decided to eat the cupcake with his hands, getting his cheeks full of chocolate. He remained awake for a few hours, playing with his father while Y/N read one of her books in the couch, wondering how she’d gotten so lucky to have such a precious son and such a loving husband. As night began to make its presence known and the birthday boy became grumpy, Y/N put him back in his crib returning to the living room to see Sebastian standing on their balcony watching the Tower Eiffel’s lights. Without him noticing, she walked behind him, wrapping her arms around his torso, allowing herself to be involved by the scent of his cologne.

- Hello there, Mrs. Stan. - he turned around in her embrace, hand going to hold hers. - How about a dance?

- I can never say no to you, Mr. Stan.

He leaned his head to rest against the space between her neck and shoulder, free hand holding her waist as the two of them moved slowly from side to side. In that moment, no money belonging to her or to him, no empire he’d built or family she inherited mattered for in that moment he had his whole world in his arms and that ... that was enough.

tag list: @lilya-petrichor @xoxohannahlee @nikkipea @irespostthingsiwanttoseelater @madisonpillstrom @cevans98 @thelostallycat @sideeffectsofyou @anxiousdreamersworld @captainchrisstan @lookiamtrying @sarge-barnes-sir @stuffforreferences @thebadassbitchqueen @sebastianstansqueen @nsfwsebbie @strangerliaa @emzd34 @everything-is-awesomesauce @dreams-in-blxck @krismeunicornbaobei @buckysteveloki-me

#sebastian stan #sebastian stan/reader #sebastian stan/you #sebastian stan/y/n #sebastian stan x reader #sebastian stan x you #sebastian stan x y/n #sebastian stan imagine #sebastian stan drabble #sebastian stan fanfic #sebastian stan AU #mob!sebastian stan #mob boss!sebastian stan #mafia!sebastian stan #mafia boss!sebastian stan #mobster!sebastian stan

403 notes · View notes