Mr Stan (sebastian stan x reader)

twelve. homework

It was a cold Friday night when I found my self sat at the desk tapping my pen, twisting my mouth and rubbing my forehead in hopes of getting any type of knowledge onto the paper. As much as I wanted to join Sebastian on the couch, watching movies with his arms around me, I had maths homework due Monday and I wasn't sure what day I was planning on leaving.

I glanced over to Sebastian on the couch in the living room, not entirely bored with whatever he was watching, but bored that I wasn't there with him. He was drumming his fingers on the couch and every few minutes, looking over to me in the kitchen, smiling at me each time.

I looked back down, turning my attention back to the paper, my eyes flickered from the question to the trigonometry and algebra I'd already written down.

My thoughts were interrupted by two warm hand coming in contact with my shoulder, making tense slightly but soon relax remembering it was Sebastian, not a murderer.

"Can I help?" He asked, still resting his hands on me.

"Well, unless you have 'secretly I'm a maths teacher too' hidden up your sleeve, unfortunately not," I joked.

"Just English, sorry," he chuckled. He started to rub soft circles on my shoulders with his warm hands, running them down my back too. "You seem stressed."

I nodded.

"You should stop maybe, we should watch a movie or something."

I nodded again, unable to speak from the amazing feeling.

"Y/n?" He added, unsure of why I wasn't speaking.

He removed his hands, confused, I rose from the seat, turning to face his body, slowly easing my head up to meet his eyes. His features showed slight confusion but he didn't speak.

He removed his hands, confused, I rose from the seat, turning to face his body, slowly easing my head up to meet his eyes. His features showed slight confusion but he didn't speak.

My eyes looked down to his lips and that's all I needed to do. Our lips touch, and it is soft and gentle. I felt every movement his lips made in that very moment against mine. His warm, plush lips move against mine, and slowly go for more. "We should go upstairs," I mutter with desire.

He parts from me by a few inches and furrows his eyebrows. "I'm not sure that's a good idea."

"Why?"

"What do you mean why? Well for one I'm your teacher and yeah, I love you, but that does not change the fact that I'm 15 years older than you and again, your teacher."

"I love you too."

He let out a soft laugh.

We come together slowly and lean in to kiss again, but it's more passionate than before. My arms wrapped around his neck and his hands situated around my waist as our kisses melted together, slowly backing up till I hit the edge of the table. His hands reached under my thighs and easily lifted me to the table top. My stomach felt like it had flipped a thousands time over.

"Can we go upstairs now?" I asked between kisses.

He nodded as much as he could, trying not to part the moment and I felt his hand grip my thigh, raising me from the table top, but not changing he position on his body. I kept my hands laced together behind his neck and wrapped my legs around his waist. He went out the kitchen and walked the stairs to his room, carrying me with ease the whole way.

He leaned down to the bed, my back eventually touching the sheets and his knees too, but eventually rising back up again so we could remove our clothing.