#so apparently it’s some other fuckin part of peanut m&ms!

[raspberrybluejeans]

:-)

[fuckinsteverogers]

All These Broken Rules: Part 2

Pairing: Sebastian Stan x Reader : Chris Evans x Reader

Word Count: 2k

Rating: 18++++ SERIES

Warnings: Flirting. Kissing. Cursing.

Synopsis: You and Chris Evans have been best friends since high school and when he becomes a part of the Marvel family and makes some new, very attractive friends, some ground rules need to be set… But rules are made to be broken… right?

Author’s Note: Honestly, I’m fumbling around so hard with this fic. I have no plan... well, that’s not true. I have an end goal, but I don’t know what’s going to happen in the middle, so we are on this journey together.

Next part will start to get into all the angsty complicated feelings and we will discover more about the reader’s inner turmoil... I wish my inner turmoil was picking between two gorgeous men. I also changed the decade that reader and Chris have known eachother to two decades, to accomodate Seb and Chris’ ages now, and because I didn’t really think it through when I was writing it.

Anyways, I hope you like this instalment. Feedback is highly encouraged!!

The night started off fairly innocent.

It never stays that way though.

Chris had been invited to a party, which meant you were invited. You'd been to your fair share of parties with Chris, but this was your first celebrity party.

You had expected expensive wine, suits and gowns, smelly cheese, and civilised conversation, but when Chris told you to dress normally; you'd furrowed your brows but shrugged your shoulders, picking a dress that you'd normally wear to a ‘commoner’ party, plain black, tight and fuckin’ hot, with a lilac leather jacket for a pop of colour.

Chris had wolf-whistled when you came out, hair in messy waves and smokey eye was done to perfection. You'd oohed and awed at him dramatically, getting him to do a spin. He looked dashing, and even now at the party, you had a hard time keeping your eyes off of him. I mean, who would stare at your GOD of a best friend.

Now, this party turned out to be exactly the opposite of what you assumed and the moment you stepped over the threshold, you felt guilty for stereotyping famous people as rich snobs.

Turns out the beer was out of a keg, the most common alcohol was Smirnoff vodka that was housed in the massive jungle juice courtesy of the host, which you had yet to figure out who they actually were, and there were more party games being played than you'd seen in your six years of university.

There were so many hot men and women there that it shook you to your core and apparently you were one of them.

“Chris, is this the infamous Y/N we've been hearing so much about?” A tall, handsome Tom Hiddleston asked after Chris shook his hand and gave him a tight hug which was eagerly returned. “She is so much more beautiful than you gave her credit for.”

“I gave her plenty of credit,” Chris replied, smirking at your blush. The colour sprouting on your cheeks only served to egg Tom on, accompanied by the cheeky smirk starting on your lips. It was clear to the men that you were enjoying the banter.

“There is not enough credit in the world to do this woman justice,” Tom tells Chris with his eyes burning into yours. You send a pointed stare to Chris that means ‘Yeah, that's right, bitch’. Chris just rolls his eyes in mock annoyance that is betrayed by the cheeky smirk adorning his plush lips.

You'd only been at the party for ten minutes, had one drink, been complimented by Tom Hiddleston and mocked by Chris when shit had gone downhill.

And by downhill, you mean your eyes were blessed with the sight of Sebastian Stan in a skin-tight shirt and full scruff.

You tried to avoid him, for the sake of your loins and the rules, but it'd be suspicious to run from someone who is actively seeking you out. He found you in the kitchen, pouring yourself some beer from the keg and digging through a lolly bowl to find some goddamn m&ms.

“What a sight for sore eyes,” He interrupted your munching on some peanut m&ms. You gasp slightly, surprised by the interruption but welcoming to the company. You smile up at the towering man and offer your handful of m&ms to him, which only brightens the smile on his face as he takes some and shoves them in his mouth. You watch his lips part and catch the slight glimpse of the pink of his tongue and almost clench your thighs visibly right there.

“You saw me a week ago,” You reply, tipping the rest of your m&ms into your mouth. He shrugs, unbothered by the time frame.

“Too long,” Sebastian replies and your mouth parts slightly in shock.

Did he just say that? As if you guys are friends. You mean, acquaintances, sure, but friends? Not yet.

The thought sends your head whirling because is he admitting he likes you? Maybe you're overthinking it.

“Chris is a busy man,” You state, trying to push the admittance off as Chris’ absence from social obligations, but Sebastian moves around the table to use the keg and only proves to make sure he's less than arm's length from you.

“We should hang out, just us…” Sebastian requests and you're still starstruck with the words that are emerging from his mouth. “Get to know each other as friends.”

The friends part has you smiling, not because you don't want to be more, but because the pursuit of this relationship as anything but friends is dangerous. Sebastian must either see that too or simply be uninterested in you as a lover.

“I'd really like that,” You agree, absentmindedly thinking about Chris’ reaction to this. More than likely reluctant supportance, only due to the potential for this to escalate, but in what universe does this result in a healthy relationship, two ridiculously busy people. Your attraction to him doesn't guarantee happily ever after.

And fuck, it's almost as if something pulls you towards him and you can't stop the gravitational pull until your hands are smoothing down the front of his shirt and he's looking down at you with those blue eyes you've had so many fantasies about.

“You look ravishing tonight,” He tells you before you have a chance to comment on the tightness of his shirt and the tautness of his abs.

“Ravishing?” You smirk at the specific choice of word, flexing your fingers against his muscular middle. Sebastian's mouth curves into a delectable smirk and you can't help but be turned on by the bad boy vibe he’s sending off tonight.

“Beautiful, gorgeous, edible, completely fucking delicious,” You nod along with the words, your hands flat on his chest as he compliments you, all the words rolling off his tongue like syrup; dripping down your spine, soaking your core.

Smirking, you remove your hands from him, picking up your beer. “Friends… Interesting,” You comment, smirking into the beer as you sip it, your eyes flickering up to Sebastian's amused ones.

“Friends,” He repeats almost like an open-ended question, his eyes looking expectantly at you. Your eyes flicker over his shoulder momentarily, only to catch the pointed stare of Chris who is looking curiously at the exchange.

“Friends,” You repeat as a finality, taking a sip of your beer and move to leave him in the kitchen in favour of attaching yourself to the hip of your irked best friend.

And the night continues with Chris maintaining his arm around your waist unless you are playing beer pong. Then someone suggests spin the bottle like you all are back in high school, but apparently, it's a party favourite around here. Chris eagerly enters, eyeing a pretty girl across the party; you in turn eye the pretty girl suspiciously, and then you enter because you aren't a pussy.

What you don't expect is for Sebastian to sit down next to Chris, clap a hand onto his shoulder and grin cheekily at you. You feel your face heat up involuntarily and turn your attention to the empty glass bottle sitting in the middle of an empty coffee table.

You lean back on the couch and cross your legs, sipping your beer waiting for the game to draw more players and start. With all the Hollywood faces here, this would make for an interesting game, you note.

“Have you and Chris kissed before, Y/N?” Anna Faris asks as she plops herself in a free spot across from you. You noticed her scoping the party a while ago, here with her soon-to-be ex-husband, Chris Pratt. Apparently, almost all the cast of the Marvel movies were invited. 

You glance quickly at Chris who has stopped talking to Sebastian to regard the question and you. You look at him for a while, urging him to decide whether this is covered under rule #1.

“In high school,” Chris says finally, answering the question for you. Chris grins your way and you feel your heart swell slightly, moving to tuck your hand into his right one, tangling your fingers together.

“Almost twenty years ago now,” You offer, turning your attention back to Anna who looks nothing but amused at your open affection for your best friend. “It was sub-par.”

“Sub-par?” Chris gasps, shifting so his knees knock yours. You just grin.

“At best.”

Chris scoffs, rolling his eyes, a look of annoyance adorning his features, but his hand remains entangled with yours, so you know how fake it is. You chuckle at his dramatics and zone out of the surroundings and into him for a moment, just admiring him.

Until he gives you a funny look and the game starts.

And it goes like this, spin, land, cheering, kiss, and repeat. Until it’s Sebastian’s turn, and the bottle spins and spins and spins until it doesn’t. When it stops, you can’t hold in your laughter, doubling over in hysterics.

“I’m glad you find this funny,” Sebastian mocks, a fake annoyance on his face. You are clutching your stomach and everyone is in about the same condition as you.

“I find this absolutely hilarious,” You reply cheekily, finally finding the breath to talk and regaining your composure.

Everyone is cheering a whooping as Sebastian leans in for the kiss, and when his lips press against Chris’, there’s no more laughter in you anymore. You try not to actively show it, but looking at them, watching them kiss, the glimpses of tongue (a fuckin’ rule apparently) and their plush, pink lips moulding together; you feel... jealous.

But of who? Chris? Sebastian? That’s the thing, you don’t know. 

The way Sebastian looks is amazing, all swollen lips and messy hair, but Chris... Wide, pink lips and slicked back hair. It’s a contrast you can’t help but admire, but which one do you want to be kissing? Both? Surely not. Sebastian, maybe, but Chris? Your best friend of twenty years? Fuck...

You don’t realise you’ve zoned out until the movement of Chris next to you means the kiss has ended. His cheeks are a beautiful pink and his hair is slightly mussed from where Sebastian must have stuck his hand, and sure, he’s a fucking Adonis, but he’s your best friend.

Then you look at Sebastian and you have to uncross and recross your legs. His eyes are blown wide, and he is panting, and you want to see that underneath you.

“Does this mean I can kiss my friends?” You joke to a still blushing Chris. His eyes dart to yours and he smirks, raising an eyebrow at you.

He doesn’t reply, in favour of leaning forward and giving the glass bottle a generous spin. You watch it spin and spin and spin, watching it pass the pretty girl Chris had been eyeing and when it stops, so does your heart.

“Okay, this is the best one,” Anna proclaims and somehow, a part of you agrees with her, because fuck, do you want to, but fuck, twenty years.

“We don’t have to,” Chris offers support and you just turn towards him, your hands beginning to shake.

You’re a goddamn doctor, get your shit together, you tell yourself, but it’s futile.

“No backing out,” You restate one of the rules that were explicitly explained at the beginning of the game.

Chris nods and your eyes draw to his lips, and you take a breath. He doesn’t look nervous, you must be nervous enough for the both of you. The sound of everyone cheering around you is what gets you moving before the turn of the century.

Twenty years.

Twenty years.

Twenty years.

You repeat the words like a mantra. As if they help calm your nerves.

You lean forward, wrap a hand around the nape of his neck, fingers tangling in the familiar soft strands of hair and he meets you halfway.

The moment your lips mould together and his hands grip your waist, your mouth opening slightly to accommodate the entrance of his soft, wet tongue, then you hear Sebastian join in the cheering; you know immediately.

You’re fucked.

You’re fucked because you want both of them.

But you sure as fuck can’t have both of them.

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