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"There needs to be SOMETHING on my desk by noon tomorrow or your ass is out on the streets begging for work. Got it?" your boss yells at you as you stand in front of his desk, your nervous hands fiddling in front of you.

You speak up, a slight tremble in your voice, trying to be strong, "But, Derek, I've been loitering around the W Hotel for days and haven't seen anybody worth shooting. It's near impossible to get a money making shot in this city!"

You're a paparazzo for a popular up and coming NYC based celebrity gossip website. You know those gossip sites that have papparazzi staked outside celebrities homes, hiding in bushes to get the lastest snapshot of a Kardashian's nip slip or some rock star's bar room bathroom drug habit on film? That was you. This wasn't the life you had intended to live, by no means. You graduated from NYU with a bacholar's in journalism but when you got out of college, work was hard to come by for a lively young woman as yourself. Instead of becoming the next Diane Sawyer as you convinced your whole family you'd be, you became a camera jockey - snapping photos of unsuspecting famous people for cash just to pay the sky-rocketing rent that is your tiny studio apartment in Greenwich Village for the last four years. You didn't enjoy invading people's privacy but you had to make a living somehow, just until you grab a shot at becoming a host on your company's entertainment talk show. You'd be just as fun as Ellen and just as laid back as Wendy Williams, you just knew you would if they gave you half the chance to prove yourself. But, until then, you're shoving cameras in people's faces and getting the scoop on their dirty deeds.

Your boss pushes himself away from his large wooden desk and turns away from you to look out of his office window, tenting his fingers. He sighs and rubs a thick hand over his glossy, bald head. "Look, kid. I know you're trying but there is no trying in this field. You either get what I need or you're fired. I'm giving you one last chance, [Y/N]. Don't disappoint me. Now...get outta here."

You perk up, "Thank you so much, Derek. I will not let you down!"

"Noon tomorrow!" he reminds you.

"Yea - Yes, you bet!" you scurry out of his office and run out to your desk to grab your purse and DSL camera. As you're packing your backpack with Fiber One bars and survival necessities to prepare for another overnight stakeout at the W Hotel to catch a celebrity, Evelyn, your co-worker that sits across from you in your shared cubicle speaks up. "Did Derek fire you yet?" she asks.

You stop packing to look over at her, perplexed, "H-how did you know he wanted to fire me?"

"When you sleep with the boss like I do, you know things," she smiles up at you like a cat who ate the canary.

"Oh, right," you continue to shove more Fiber One bars into your backpack.

"Listen, [Y/N], I like you as a co-worker and we've become close these last two months - "

"- we've only become close because I caught you having sex in the closet with Jose, the water delivery man two months ago and you're afraid I'll squeal on you to Derek," you blurt out, nonchalantly.

"Yeah, well, we're the best of friends now so, deal with it. Anyway, I don't want you to get fired so you're the only one I'm giving this name to," she wheels her chair closer to you, a white piece of paper in her hand. "There's a hot celebrity hiding out somewhere in Greenwich Village, resting between movies or something. Rumor has it he is staying here until the popularity of his current film dies down a bit before heading back to LA to film more for this franchise."

"Who? Which franchise?" you ask, taking the paper from her hand.

"I don't know, I've never heard of him. He's in those comic book movies....Captain America or Avengers or Batman, I don't fucking know. I don't have kids so..." she slides her chair back to her desk and takes a swig of her spiked mocha latte.

"I love superhero movies! Evelyn - who is it?" She gestures for you to open the folded paper. You open it and see scribbled in blue ink: "Sebastian Stan, 42 Horatio St".

"OH MY GOD! I literally live right down the block from him!" You squeal like a piglet with excitement as you bend down to kiss a frightened Evelyn's cheek, grab your purse, camera and backpack and run out the office while yelling back, "THANK YOU!"

You rush to your neighborhood in Greenwich Village and the moment you step onto your block, you compose yourself and walk like a confident human being. What if you run into him? What will you do? Shove the camera in his face and run? No, no, you need to think this through. You can't believe you're getting the chance to see Sebastian Stan in YOUR neighborhood. A dream come true - one of your many Sebastian Stan wet dreams. You've been obsessed with him since "The Covenant" back in 2006. You lost track of him a couple times throughout the years but got back on track when he became known for being The Winter Soldier in the Captain America films, especially the latest "Civil War". You come upon 42 Horatio, his building, stop in front of it and pretend to tie your sneaker. You stand up and see if it's locked. There's a keypad to punch in a code. Dammit. You'll figure out a way to get in. You make your way two buildings over to yours and unlock the door. You need some coffee before heading back out later tonight.



You rummage through your closet for some decent night club attire. You talk out loud to yourself, "If I were a celebrity, which popular night spot would I go to on a Friday night?" After pulling out a red cocktail dress, you glance over to a list of celebrity-infested restaurants and hot spots in the city of Manhattan. You cross off every other neighborhood except Greenwich Village, "He can't stray too far from here..." So you place your instincts on local spots like The Beatrice Inn, Spice Market, Hotel Gansevoort, The Standard and Avenue - all famous celebrity haunts that Sebastian was bound to be spotted at. So with that list of expensive places, you dress yourself up in that red cocktail dress, killer heels and made up face and hail a cab to your first option for the long night, DSL camera tucked beside a couple of Fiber bars inside your fashionably large Gucci purse. It was going to be a long night.

By midnight, you are so warped from faking a confident stride and nursing overly priced drinks with no Sebastian in sight, you were defeated. You hail a cab back home and are mentally preparing your resume to work at McDonalds. There was no way you were going to get a picture of ANY famous person tonight. You reach your apartment, pull your dress over your head, kick off your shoes and sit at the picture window in your bra and panties and sigh to yourself. "Fuck this. I'm going to Jane's," you mumble to yourself as you shoot up, pull a junky long powder blue maxi dress over your head and Uggs and wrap your hair in a messy high bun a top of your head as you leave once again. Jane's is a local dive bar on Jane Street just around the corner from your apartment building. You go there from time to time to blow off steam after work or just go to relax and listen to the old jukebox that still plays nothing but classic rock hits from the 70s and 80s. The cool late night summer breeze whips at your long maxi dress that is stained with old grease blotches and bleach spots from cooking/cleaning but you didn't care. It was just Jane's and there were only regulars there - older quiet folks who keep to themselves - just your type of people. You enter Jane's dimly lit tavern to some Lynard Skynard playing and see the bar is barely occupied save for the bartender and a few stragglers playing poker in the far back. You hop up onto your usual stool by the entrance, nod your head over at Pat, the owner/bar keep, for the usual Guinness and sigh. Pat puts the pint in front of you when you raise the glass to the air and toast yourself, "To becoming a fry cook...."

As you bring the glass to your lips, your eyes spot a familiar face at the other end of the bar. A man drinking alone in the corner, meets your gaze, "He must be drunk and sees my breasts peaking out of this old raggedy dress," you say to yourself as you take a sip from your glass. And then the familiarity of this man's face socks you right in the stomach that you lose your breath - it's none other than Sebastian Stan himself, sitting at YOUR bar, mere feet away from you, throwing glances your way! Adrenaline kicks in as your mind starts to race, you think to yourself 'WHAT THE FUCK DO I DO?! HOW DO I ACT? WHY AM I WEARING THIS OLD STAINED DRESS?!" You pretend you're calm and cool as you take a big swing from your glass and cough some back up - went down the wrong pipe. You hack a few loud coughs and turn beet red as you see Sebastian smerk to himself, maybe a little chuckle. You die a little inside, you're going to drown in beer in front of your celebrity crush and buried in your stupid powder blue maxi dress! After you compose yourself, you pretend you didn't just hack up a lung and cooly rifle through your purse for your cell phone. You certainly don't want to bother asking him for a photo but you surely don't want to scare him away candidly shooting a photo of him without his permission so you thought you'd use your cell to snap the dark shot. You pretend you're checking text messages when you click on the silent button to stifle the sound of a picture being taken - he'll never know. You gracefully place one elbow on the bar with the phone in hand, faking like you're reading something close to your face as you steady the camera phone pointing toward an unsuspecting Sebastian as he drinks from his glass. When you press the button to take the discreet photo, the flash goes off lighting up the ENTIRE bar in a white bomb of light. YOU FORGOT TO TURN OFF THE FLASH! Everyone playing poker is startled as is Sebastian as he looks over to you with your mouth agape in shock and embarrassment. Suddenly, your stomach does flip flops and bubbles and boils. Your face contorts as you realize these stomach pains are not only from nerves having Sebastian Stan sitting across from you but from all those Fiber One bars you ingested while staking out those fancy bars all night. You panic in your head, 'Not now! I can't use the toilet now! Not here!' But you had no choice. If you left the bar to run to your apartment for the bathroom, he'd be gone, perhaps forever. If you stayed here to use the bar's bathroom, you'd be pooping not too far from Sebastian Stan sat BUT you would at least get a chance to get a closer look at him later. MAYBE. So you casually rise from your stool and calmly walk to the ladies room a few feet away from Sebastian. The second your tushy hit that porcelain thrown, it was game over. You were done with fiber for good.

You exit the ladies room a few minutes later and see Sebastian is on his phone, hunching over the bar, in deep conversation. You make it back to your stool and drink the rest of your Guinness and order another. You stare at him more as he hangs up the phone, catches you watching him and smiles. You sheepishly smile back (probably looking like a grinning idiot) as he rises from his stool and begins walking toward you. Your breathing becomes erratic, your heart pounding against your ribcage, he's getting closer and you feel faint. Sebastian, wearing a grey long sleeved shirt underneath a brown jacket with dark blue jeans, stands to your left and asks with those kind blue eyes, "Are you waiting for someone?"

You shake your head no.

"May I sit here then?" he asks.

You nod your head.

He smiles, sits down and sighs, "Did the photo come out okay?"

You crinkle your eyebrows, confused for a second before you remember you snapped that obvious flashing photo of him a half hour ago. You cringe and shrug.

"Well, come on. Whip it out - your phone, I mean. Sounds dirty if I didn't correct myself. Let's see if it's a good shot or not."

You check his face for anger or sarcasm but there was only kindness and humor. You rummage through your purse for your phone and catch Sebastian stealing glances of your breasts. He sees you caught him and he bites his lower lip and looks away, bashful like a child. That had to be the cutest look you've ever seen in your life. You take out your phone and pull up the photo as Sebastian scoots closer to you to see. He pushes a strand of his short hair behind his ear and shakes his head, "Nah, you need a better pic than that. I look terrible. Here..." he grabs your phone from your hand and pulls you in for a double selfie. All of this is so surreal, you do not want this moment to end. He looks at the photo he just took of you both and smiles, proudly, "Now THAT'S a picture." You look at your face of horror in the picture and frown, "I look like shit..." Your first words to Sebastian Stan.

"She speaks!" he theatrically proclaims to no one paying attention. He looks at the photo again and back at you, "You do not look like shit. You look adorable. You've got that whole Deer-in-Headlights look which is very attractive to some men." He waves a finger at Pat for another scotch.

"Ha! Uh, thanks, I guess?" you chuckle and take a sip of your beer as Pat brings over Seb's drink.

"Luckily, I am one of those men," he tips his glass to you before taking a drink from it. You can feel your face get red and blush. He continues, "So, this is going to sound like a really bad line but I really want to you come here often?"

You burst out into laughter as he feigns offense.

"I truly want to know, is that a bad thing? I've never seen you around this place before so I ask," he joins in on the laughter.

You nod your head, "Yes, I do. I actually don't live too far from here and it's rare when I can come in and settle down for the night. This is the only place I go to for mental decompression. Well, this and Netflix."

"Ah, yes. Netflix. Do you ever "Netflix & Chill" as the kids say?" his brow arches, waiting for an answer to his deeply personal question.

"Honestly? I only "Netflix & Chill" with myself," you reply, saucy and confident, having him picture you masturbating while watching movies alone.

"Oh really?" he takes another swig of his scotch and licks his lips. He glances at your cleavage once more before clearing his throat, "So, you recognize me?"

You look down at your glass and nod slowly.

"Why didn't you just come up to me and ask for a picture. I gladly would've said yes. No need for sneaking around," he smiles warmly.

You feel guilty that your profession is to sneak around and do underhanded things like that but, you explain, "I didn't want to bother you. I know you're a busy famous person. Must be annoying to be hounded for a signature or picture all the damn time. You were so content and serene by yourself over there, i didn't want to intrude."

Sebastian finishes his scotch and places it back down on the bar, "You're way too cute to be bothersome."

'Holy Hell! Sebastian Stan is totally flirting with me.....and he likes my boobs!!' you scream internally as you smile back at him.

"Why, thank you. I guess I should bother you more often then."

He leans in close to your ear, scotch on his breath, whispers, "I hope you do..."

A hot wave passes throughout your body shooting straight down to your groin as you light-headedly giggle. Just then, his phone rings in his jacket pocket. He pulls it out, politely excuses himself from the bar and answers it as he walks away. You take a deep breath and begin to fan yourself with your hand.

Pat takes Sebastian's empty glass and puts it under the bar, "You all right there, [Y/N]?" in his scruffy voice.

"Oh, yeah...."continue to fan self, "I'm aces..."

When Sebastian spins around to walk back to the bar, you immediately stop fanning yourself and casually throw back the last drop of your drink. He stands in front of you with sad puppy dog eyes, "That was my agent. I've got an early morning tomorrow. Three hours from now to be exist sooooo....unfortunately, this is where I leave you."

"Aw, really?" you respond with a pout of your own.

"Yeah. Busy famous person stuff," he chuckles.

You dorkishly hold out your hand, "Well, it was nice meeting you, Sebastian Stan."

He shakes his head, "Oh, this is not going to be the last time we meet, [Y/N]. I'll be seeing you." And like that, he walks out of Jane's.

You happily sigh to yourself as you order a water before you go and realize something, "I never told him my name." You ponder on that fact as you drink down the water and pay Pat before ending your wonderful unforgettable night.


Early the next morning, you place a hard copy of the double selfie Sebastian Stan took of you on your phone onto your boss' desk with a smile. Derek looks down at the photo then back up at you. "Why do you look like shit in this pic?"

You frown as you snatch it back, "It doesn't matter what I look like - I got a scoop that Sebastian Stan is currently residing on my block. I had drinks with him last night and I think I may see him around the neighborhood again if I play my cards right. So, am I still being fired?"

Derek snatches the photo back from your hand and grunts, "You get me more shots of Stan, you are not only NOT fired but you might make it toward editor. This guy is a quick rising star and you've got the lead on him. Stay with it, [Y/N]. This can mean huge opportunities for you." He finally gives you an accepting smile. "But, in order to get these private shots, you'll need to be wearing any of these." He opens his desk drawer and pulls out a black bag of trinkets.

You look down on his desk at the splayed knick knacks, "A gold necklace, pair of Buddy Holly glasses and a smiley face pin?"

"Not just any necklace, eye glasses and pin - inside each of these are secret cameras. All you have to do is wear any of these, lightly touch them to snap the picture and it'll transmit into your home computer. Ain't that cool?" He hands them all to you with excitement.

"Oh...that makes sense...okay. Done," you say, unsure.

You leave his office and run back home to plan your next night out at Jane's. Maybe if I'm super lucky, Sebastian will be there again, you think to yourself as you wear something less grungy and more Saturday night bar appropriate. You change into a fitted white V-neck t-shirt (once again showing off your ample bosom) and black skinny jeans with red pumps. You leave your hair down and, ironically, put on a ton of make up to get that au natural look. You decide to put the smiley face pin on your clutch and head out the door.


It's 8:45pm and you saunter into Jane's, chest out, ass out - confident as fuck - when you scan the room and don't see Sebastian there. Your ego deflates as you disappointingly shuffle your heeled feet to the bar onto your usual stool. You place your clutch on the bar and ask Pat to bring you a scotch instead of your usual Guinness. You drink it down in one gulp as a voice comes from behind you, "It's my lucky night. I get the part I wanted AND I get the girl."

A smile slowly forms on your face as you know who that voice belongs to and reply, "What makes you think I want you?" you jokingly respond as you spin around on your stool and see Sebastian standing so close behind you that your knees knock into his thighs. "Oh, I'm so sorry," you nervously giggle and apologetically rub the side of his thigh then realize that you're RUBBING SEBASTIAN STAN'S LEG and profusely apologize for soothing him and quickly pull your hands back to you, "Oh, God, I'm so sorry again..."

He doesn't flinch, he only responds to your question with a question, "Don't you?"

There goes that queasy feeling of nerves again.

Sebastian sits next to you as he did last night, this time a bit closer. His knees touching your knees as he faces you and orders a scotch as well. He sees your glass and notices, "Ah, great minds think alike." He takes a swig from his glass. "How are you, sweetheart?"

'Sweetheart', you shiver in awe at the sound of that nickname from his plush lips.

"I'm doing well, actually, now that you're here..." you can play this flirtatious game as well, you just hope you don't screw it up like you normally do.

He smerks and takes a look at your outfit, his blue eyes zoning in on your breasts, "Can I ask you a question without you slapping me in the face?"

You nod as you sip your drink.

"Do you know how wonderfully distracting your breasts are?"

Then you did it - you screw up the flirtatious game- you shoot scotch from out your nose while laughing. You instantly yelp at the burning sensation going through your nose and cover your nose with your hand. Sebastian hands you a couple of napkins from the bar as he helps blot up the scotch that dripped onto your pants. Your face is a bright shade of red from mortification at what is happening right now. You cover your entire face with a napkin in embarrassment and speak from there, "I-I need to go."

"What? Why? I just got here. Come on, don't be like that. There's nothing to be embarrassed about, [Y/N]...." he soothes your shoulder with his hand.

"You don't understand how embarrassed I am right now, Sebastian.. I feel like I'm back in grade school..." you continue to cover your face with the napkin.

"Oh, come on! You're acting like a little girl with a stupid crush," he chortles. Your eyes peak out from above the napkin in shame, only solidifying his assumption.

His eyes widen with glee, "Oh my God! You totally have a crush on me!"

You quickly cover your whole face again and groan out loud all the while Sebastian teasingly sings, "[Y/N] liiikes me! [Y/N] liiikes me!"

You uncover your face and playfully shove his shoulder, "Shut up!"

Sebastian leans in closer, smile wiped from his face, "I'd like to see what you'd do to stop me.." You look at his red lips and become hypnotized. You look him in the eyes and your breath hitches. You are mere centimeters from each other's face now. You look back down at his lips, he licks his bottom lip as he closes in on your face.

"Sebastian..." you whisper.

"May I?" he asks so softly as you nod your head in agreement. He swiftly moves his hand underneath your hair at the nape of your neck and pulls your head in. His full lips crash onto yours with passion and urgency. A moan escapes your throat as his velvet tongue dives into your mouth massaging yours. You grab a hold of his knees to help steady yourself up as he takes the lead and lets the kiss consume you both. You feel heat pooling between your thighs, knowing you're panties are becoming soaked, you kiss him back harder and lightly nip at his bottom lip. He laughs and lets your face go finally.

Both your mouths are raw from the kissing and your eyes are both glossy. You clear your throat and lean sideways against the bar, resting your head on your perched up elbow, "That was....REALLY fucking nice." You both laugh.

He wipes some lipstick from his lips, "I feel like I should explain myself....I don't normally do this - hang out at some bar and pick up chicks to make out with them. It's're so different from any girl I've ever met before. I feel like I can be myself around you...You're also easy on the eyes."

"Don't worry about it. I wasn't thinking otherwise. And thanks. You're easy to talk to as well. You also don't freak out about how dorky I am."

"What? That's why I like you. We're both huge dorks!" he exclaims, "And your dorkiness is sexy. Somehow you make that work." He laughs boisterously.

You two continue to talk for another two hours about family, friends, being star-struck and your careers (you didn't dare told him where you worked at so you made up a lie about working at some women's magazine) when you look at your watch and notice the time. "Oh, shit! I've gotta go."

His face turns to disappointment, "Just when I was about to ask some sexy questions, too."

You hop off the stool and pick up your clutch, "Same time tomorrow night?" you arch a brow.

Sebastian winks back, "Sure thing, Doll face."

You giggle before exiting the bar and into the summer night air. Sebastian watches you leave, his face turns from flirty to stonefaced.

As soon as you get home, you upload the pictures you took on the secret camera pin on your clutch throughout the night. There were dozens of pics of Seb, some of these you'll send over to Derek in the morning. Dozens of goofy, hot and sexy shots you took. You stare at them for a few and absolutely need to be touched right this moment. But since Seb isn't there, you have to do it. You sit back in your computer chair and unzip your skinny jeans and slide one hand down your panties and find your swollen wet clit. You begin to run it lightly in circular motion until you get a good pace. You keep staring at this one photo of his looking intensely at you, you stick a finger into your wet hole while you continue to rub and you yelp out in pleasure as you yell his name and come onto your hand. You look at the screen again, breathing heavily, "I need that man inside me..."


Sebastian is back in his apartment, two buildings down from yours, looking out of his window onto the street below from his one bedroom apartment He swivels a glass filled with booze in one hand, the other hand is resting above his head, leaning against the windowpane. "Same time tomorrow night? Sure thing, Doll face...And the night after that and the night after that and the night after that." He drabbles on as he takes a sip from his glass, staring menacingly out of the window.


Chapter Text

Chapter 2

You hand Derek the folder of photographs you took of Sebastian at Jane's last night, a bit weary. Derek smiles as he thumbs through the multiple shots, "This is fantastic, [Y/N]! But I need more. Is there any way to catch him outside of this place? Like in the day time?"

You instantly become annoyed at his request of going deeper into invading Sebastian's privacy behind his back but hide it well, "You know, I think he's only ever available during night hours. It seems he's always on the go during the day with interviews and promoting stuff...."

Derek tucks the photos into his desk drawer for publishing that morning, "Well, ask him over your place...maybe show him some action."

"Ha, well, I don't think he wants anything to do with me in THAT way," you trail off as you remember that hot make out sesh you had last night.

Derek shrugs you off as he takes a phone call from the secretary and you leave his office. There is a knot forming in the pit of your tummy you can't quite explain. Dread? Remorse? Betrayal? You suddenly feel like this shouldn't be your calling. Invading people's privacy, earning a living off of their lives and humiliating moments. What happens when Sebastian finds out about what you really do for a living? This whole business suddenly feels so dirty to you.

You reach your apartment and sit at your computer desk, staring at the copies of photographs you took last night. You stare at one in particular that makes your heart melt; he's talking to you when you pressed the pin on your clutch at on the bar, you caught him in mid-sentence. His expressive smiling eyes looking to the left of you and grinning mouth give you joy and only made you love him more. You can tell he genuinely likes to be around you.

"I can't do this to him..." you say to yourself as you stack all the photos of Sebastian and shove them into a beige folder before putting it on your nightstand by your bed. You might want to look through them later before bed time during your private "Netflix and Chill" time. But you need to clear your head, think this through more. You put on the thick black rimmed glasses with the hidden camera in them and think to yourself, 'I need a drink.'


You arrive at Jane's and see Sebastian is not there yet so you walk over to the jukebox and pop a quarter in. You roll through the records and punch in a number, turn around and lean against the jukebox as the cogs inside the machine clicks and groans retrieving your song choice. "Magic Man" by Heart begins, the vibration of the beat reverberate throughout your body as you close your eyes and tilt your head back, concentrating on the guitar riffs. You get so lost in the moment, you don't notice Sebastian standing an inch in front of you, staring down at your relaxed face until you feel a hot hand snaking up your left outer thigh to your hip bone. You open your eyes to be met by Sebastian wearing a black leather jacket, his eyes hooded with desire. A smile forms over your mouth as you mouth over the loud music, "Hi." Sebastian says nothing but moves his hand that rests on your hip to the small of your back and pulls you into his body. Your hands rest on his muscular chest as you takes your lips onto his - hard. Without breaking the kiss, his other hand grabs at one of your dainty hands that rests on his chest and pulls it around your back and holds it there. A bit rough, hurting your wrist a bit but it still felt AMAZING to finally be held by this man. You can feel his thick hard on through his denim jeans, he's starts to grind against your thigh a bit. It's so subtle that no one watching would notice, but you notice and you grind back. You pull back, finally breaking the kiss with your lipstick smudged around your mouth and breathe, "Lets get some air..." You pull his hands toward the door with you.

Out in the night air, you take a deep breath and feel rejuvenated and horny as all Hell. Before you can speak, Sebastian pushes your body up against the brick wall outside the bar and devours your mouth, pressing his body so tight into yours, the air in your lungs gets squeezed out. Sebastian lifts one of your thighs to wrap around his hip and begins dry humping you against the wall. You panic a bit, "Seb?" you ask softly in between kisses. He ignores you.

"Sebastian? I-I don't think this is the place to be...doing this..." you gasp when he roughly pulls your head down to the side by your hair and sucks on your neck.

"Sebastian...?...Hey!" you firmly yell causing him to snap out of his lust and meet your eyes.

"Wha? Oh, shit..I'm so sorry. I-I got carried away there...Did I hurt you? I'm sorry if I did. Geez, this is embarrassing," he is back to his dorky self, straightening his jacket and running his hands through his slicked hair.

You both slowly begin walking side by side when he finally notices something different about you, "Hey, you've got glasses."

You look at him as you move the glasses up the bridge of your nose and it inconspicuously snaps a photo of him as you look and smile at him. "Yeah, I hate wearing them though. Too big and clunky."

"Nah. Women with glasses are sexy," he playfully bumps into you.

Still reeling from the moment of passion a minute ago, you want more and you can't keep quiet about it. You stop in the middle of the sidewalk, "Your place or my place?"

"Your place," he barely let you finish the question. Looks like he was more ready than you were to ask. You grab his hand and run with him to your building around the corner.

Once up to the 5th floor, you fumble with the keys to unlock your door. You swing open the door and pull him in by his jacket collar and slam the door with Sebastian's body, mashing your mouth into his. He quickly makes work of his hands by unzipping his jacket without breaking the kiss and flings it to the floor behind you. You remember two things as this is all happening: One, you really have to pee and, two, the box of condoms you bought last year are still unopened in the bathroom cabinet.

"Shit!" you yell into Seb's mouth, his hands underneath your blouse, "I need to use the bathroom real quick....sit on the bed, relax, I'll be right back!" you run off to the bathroom six feet away as Sebastian plops down onto your mattress and adjusts his hard on in his jeans.

He looks around your apartment from where he sits and notices an earring of yours on the floor in front of him. He bends over to pick it up and knocks over a beige folder on your nightstand on his way back up. Photographs of him are spilled onto the floor at his feet as he picks one picture up and stands up. You exit the bathroom with a condom in hand and see Sebastian holding up one of last night's photos of himself. Your smile slowly fades as you see Sebastian's eyes full of anger.

"I can explain...." your tiny voice says.

"I thought you were different, [Y/N]. All you had to do was be fucking honest with me," he flings the photo onto the floor with the rest of them.

"No! it's not like that. I changed my mind! I don't want to take pictures of you anymore. I'm leaving my company. This isn't what I want to do anymore! I'm sorry, Sebastian, I was gonna tell you," you plead as he brushes passed you and leaves your apartment.


You royally fucked up.

A month has passed since that night Sebastian found out your deep dark secret of being a sleazy paparazzo. You quit your job soon after that night and are now working at a small clothing boutique around the corner from your place. It doesn't pay the bills like being a paparazzi did but you will get by. You haven't seen him at Jane's nor on the streets. He didn't seem to be anywhere; not in social media, not on TV - nowhere. You think he might have moved back to LA to begin shooting but something still wasn't quite right. Why would he just vanish? I mean, stalking a person was your job, you would've noticed moving vans two buildings away if he had moved back to LA. You needed to find out if he still lived there, so you decide to do a little sleuthing sans the cameras that ruined your life.

Later that night, you wait outside the front door at 42 Horatio, someone had to come in or out to let you in. You play the unassuming role of Friendly- Neighbor-Who-Lost-Her-Keys so someone would trust you enough to let you inside the building. Lucky for you, an older gentleman that frequents Jane's walks up to the door, recognizes you and lets you in after him. You thank him profusely as you watch him ascend to the second floor before you move into action. You recall from one of your long conversations with Seb that he mentioned he lived on the top floor. You quietly skulk up the staircases hoping no one comes in or out of the building when you finally reach the top floor. Two apartments, one on each side. Which one does he live in? You creep closer to the apartment door to the left and listen intently. You hear cartoons blaring on a TV and a toddler yelling at its mother on the other side of the door, which means Seb's the other door. You stare at the door long and hard and listen for any movement or noise on the other side. You hush your breathing to listen. Nothing. You get the adrenaline to quietly knock on the door and wait for a response. No answer. A feeling comes over you to check the door knob. You touch it lightly and slowly turn it - it's not locked. You push the door in and inch inside Sebastian's dark apartment and close the door behind you. Your heart is beating so loud, you can't hear yourself think on what to do next. You fumble in the dark trying to find a lightswitch against the wall by the door. You find one and flick it on to see the essentials of a bachelor pad: a bed, night table, lamp and modest sized TV and that's it. Nothing that sticks out or tells you where he's been or if he's been there the last month or not. You definitely know it's Sebastian's apartment because his black leather jacket is draped over the bedpost. You stare at the center of the room, baffled, as to what could have happened to him then think out loud, "If his bedroom is out here, then what's in the other room back there?" You look down a short hallway to the one bedroom with the closed door, your brows crinkles with curiosity.

You slowly make your way down the very short hall toward the other room and feel the need to call out, "Sebastian? You in there? It's me, [Y/N]. I, uh, wanted to check up on you....see how you're doing..." You knock on the door, "Seb?" You turn the knob and slowly open it. Once you step inside, your hand reaches for the light switch and flick it on.

And what you see is unimaginable.

Your face is plastered all over the walls and ceiling - even over the windows! Hundreds of thousands of photographs of you in all seasons, in all occassions, in all outfits you've ever worn, in every mood and location you have ever been to within Greenwich Village from the last 2 years are tacked up all around the room. Your mouth drops in horror at the sight your brain cannot comprehend yet. You shakingly walk up to a wall to take a closer look at the collage of photos. 'This is the day I first moved onto Horatio Street....this one was when I went to the emergency room for abdominal pain....this is when my mother came to visit me.....' you seem to remember a few shots and others you don't recall. You turn around to see the other walls and keep turning - making the room feel like the whole room was spinning out of control with your image plastered every where. Your legs buckle and you fall onto your knees in shock, all the eyes - YOUR eyes - you feel are looking back at you. You cover your face in disbelief and utter confusion as you sob, "What's happening?"

"Whoops! Forgot to lock the door again."

Your head shoots up to look at the door and see Sebastian playfully cringing at his mistake. He raises his hands up in defeat, "You caught me."

You stand up, legs still wobbly from feeling faint, "Wh-what is all this, Sebastian? Is-is this some kind of joke? How did you do all this?"

Sebastian shushes you as he walks toward you, hands still in the air, "Ssshh, sssssshh. Before you freak out, let me explain...." He quickly headbutts you and catches you in his arms, ".....when you wake up."



Your eyes tremble as they slowly peel open to see what that noise is. Once fully open, you realize you are not standing but laying on your side on a wooden floor. Your head also registers the pain factor to the front of your forehead to the middle of your nose. You have no idea where you are or why you're in this much pain. Your blurry eyes begin to adjust themselves and see your face every where and see Sebastian banging a hammer into the middle of the wall. It's all coming back to you now; where you are, why your head is aching. He knocked you out and now he seems to be putting nails into the wall for some reason. You automatically make a groaning sound, alerting Sebastian of your consciousness. He spins around and gleefully looks down on you, "Well, hello there, sleepyhead. Let me help you up." The receptors in your brain couldn't reach your extremeties in time to tell them to fight back because you were too weak and in pain. Sebastian lifts your upper body off the floor, "Upsy daisy," and drags you to the wall. Your head is a little limp as he grabs a chain with handcuffs on each end and hangs the chain on the nail he just put up. Once in place, he leans you against the wall and grabs one of your hands and puts it in a cuff and repeats it for the last hand. You are now handcuffed to Sebstian Stan's wall, standing, leaning against the wall covered with your face. He stands back and admires his own work with a broad smile, "Perfect."

"What are you doing?" you whisper, mouth dry from nerves.

"Wasn't this a surprise, huh? You've been sneaking pictures of me for money and here I was sneaking pictures of you!"

"Stalking," you correct him, wearily.

"You say 'tomato', I say 'let's not get into semantics'."

"I don't understand...if you liked me, why didn't you ever confront me?"

Sebastian walks up to you and grazes the side of your face with the back of his finger, "I could never approach someone as devastatingly beautiful such as yourself. I would've screwed things up somehow. But when I noticed you go to that shitty bar around the corner, I knew I could work into your life somehow." He places a small kiss on your cheek.

"But why are you doing this to me? Let me go!" you pull at the restraints finally finding the strength to yell at him in anger.

Sebastian grabs a clump of your hair and pulls your head to the side (much like the other night outside) and shouts in your face, "BECAUSE YOU'RE A DIRTY LITTLE SLUT!"

"WHAT ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT??!" you yell back.

You close your eyes until he lets go of your hair and pats your head, sweetly, "You know what I'm talking about..." he walks away to the other side of the room, rips a photo of you off the wall and brings it to you. He shoves it under your nose, seething, "This. Do you see this?"

It's a picture of you and some guy from the office you dated briefly back a month before you met Sebastian. "Jeff? Yeah, so what?"

"You fucked him?"

You can feel rage build up in the pit of your stomach, "So what if I did?! What business is it of yours, YOU FUCKING PSYCHO!"

Sebastian runs at you and punches the wall by your face, eyes locked into yours.

You had to think quick and what you're thinking is Sebstian Stan is NOT the man everyone thinks he is - he's a psychopathic stalker and you need to get out of this unharmed. So you decide to play into his sick ego. "You were jealous of Jeff?"

"I wasn't -" he calms himself down before continuing, "I wasn't jealous of that prick. I just wanted to be the only one to be with you. Not him. Not anybody. No one is good enough for you, except me."

You can't believe you were saying these words but they were honestly coming out, "If I had known you wanted to be with me, I would've dropped everyone to be with you, Sebastian."

"How did he fuck you?" he murmurs, his eyes still intensely staring into your soul.

"What do you mean, how?"

"Did you enjoy it? Did he eat your pussy until you came on his face? Did you suck his small cock? Did you like it?"

You are not sure where your good judgment lies at this point as crazy Sebastian spews these sexually crude phrases at your face, because you could feel your panties become wet with each filthy word he says. You squeeze your thighs together and bite your lip, trying to supress your oddly submissive sexual urges you're having this very moment. I guess now you know where your sexual kink stands on a scale of normal to crazy. Maybe you're just as psychotic as Sebastian in wanting this.

You throw your head back with seductive giggle, "Oh, Jeff ate my pussy, but I didn't cum. I never came for him..." you hungrily look down at his swollen dick in his pants and back up to his face, "But I'd cum for you, Seb."

Sebastian hurriedly walks off into the next room where his bed is and comes back in with a small video camera atop a tripod. He sets it up a few feet to the right of you and presses record. He stands in front of you once more and with hooded eyes quickly rips off your leggings, exposing your black bikini thong, frightening you. He then rips open your white blouse, buttons flying everywhere. Your heaving pushed up breasts in a matching black lace bra. Sebastian puts your black heels back on that fell off when he knocked you out eariler and looks at you in your undergarments and high heels, hands above your head. You feel strangely free and hyper sexualized making you feel extremely horny.

Sebastian bites his bottom lip as he unbuckles his belt and unzips his jeans just enough to let his large hard cock out of restraints of its own. You gaze upon his throbbing purple member and lick your lips. "Is that for me?" you coyly ask.

His voice gruff and low as he slowly begins to pump his shaft in front of you and the camera, "I want you to watch me jerk off before I shove this dick into what I can only imagine is your soaking wet, hot pussy."

You moan with desire, wanting him to touch you instead of playing with himself. Sebastian gets a good fast rhythm going as he locks his narrow eyes on your heaving breasts and pants, "This is what I do in this room every day.......I jerk off to your photos....I finally get the real you you can watch me...see what you do to me?"

You squeeze your thighs together and feel your slickness dripping down from your thin thong, "I'm here now, Sebby. Fuck've been waiting all this time and I'm yours now, baby."

He stops jerking off right before he hit the edge and drops to his knees in front of you. He lifts up your left leg and flings it over his shoulder as you gasp at how you can feel his hot breath on your inner thigh and wet spot. He quickly dips his long tongue between your thonged folds and pulls out, a string of your pre-cum attaches itself to his chin and he smiles up at you. "You taste just how I imagined you would." His face dives back into your folds as the camera rolls on you two. Your hips roll forward to his face, his tongue slicking in and out of your hole, driving you mad with pleasure. You whimper for more and beg for him to fuck you. He stands up and pulls his shirt off showing off his Winter Soldier physique, grabs both your ass cheeks, wraps your legs around his hips and plunges his thick cock inside you. Your arms struggle to bear your own weight as he thrusts up into you as you hang on those chains. You scream in pleasure and pain but mostly pleasure. Sebastian Stan is fucking you while you're hanging on chains and being filmed, you shout in your head, my dream comes true!

You huff and puff as your head slams against the wall behind you, "Don't you want to see my tits?"

Seb unclasps your bra and realizes he can't take it off because of your chained hands. In the heat of the moment, he pulls out of you and unlocks your cuffs. 'Now would be the perfect time to escape!' you say to yourself but think you'll let him finish up first.

When he let you down, you don't run. Instead, you turn around and face the wall from which you were hanging, jut out your fine ass, turn to look at him and say, "Fuck me in the ass, please..."

Sebastian smiles and does as he is asked. You splay your fingers against the wall as he kicks your feet apart. His dick still slick with your juices without warning he shoves his cock into your tiny ass. You scream out in pain but find it erotic and a sudden turn on. Sebastian goes from grunting like a man to whimpering like a puppy trying not to cum so quickly inside you. He slows his pace and grits his teeth, "God, [Y/n]'re so fucking tight....I'm gonna cum fast..."

You giggle and move your ass back and upwards, giving him a sensation to quicken his results. He gasps, you can feel him tremble inside you. "SHIT...FUCK!" you feel a hot liquid squirt into your asshole and down between your legs to your heels. You orgasm just from the feeling of the cum dripping down your legs. Sebastian buckles against you, sweat dripping down his body as he bends over your back, exhausted.

You try to stand up, but you feel weak from all this sex and terror. He leans against the wall and slides down with his eyes closed. You watch him as you steathly keep your eye on him and tip toe to the video camera a few feet away.

Sebastian finally opens his eyes to speak and sees you standing above him, camera tripod in both your hands above your head as you apologize "Sorry, babe."


You knock Sebastian out cold with the tripod to the head and quickly grab his t-shirt and what was left of your leggings and run out the door, down the steps and into your apartment. You pack a backpack of toiletries and money and small personal items before you hail a cab and leave your apartment.



It's been a year since you left your apartment that fateful night and moved in with your mom back in Boston. You never told anyone about Sebastian, what happpened or why you decided to move back in with your mother. You stay off the social media for fear he might find you again and that's the way it has to stay.

You were watching "Good Morning America" one morning when Sebastian Stan was being interviewed for a new movie he had coming out. Handsome Sebastian was charming, bubbly and so kind to the hosts - only you knowing how he really is. The host asked Sebastian why a good-looking guy like him was still single.

Sebastian bashfully laughs and shrugs. He looks at the camera and it feels like he's looking directly at you, "I did have a girlfriend not too long ago. I guess you can say she was the one that got away."

You click the TV off.