Sebastian Stan Imagines

The Gold Medal Makeup (2 of 2)- Lance

**smut**

Imagine making up with Lance in all the right ways.

Request by: Brownstone88

"Fucking, Lance. I'm glad Maggie picked Hope," you mumbled to yourself, settling into your new hotel room bed. You hadn't seen Lance in four days, even though he had called and texted and called some more.

In all honesty, you missed him- but you missed the Lance from the grocery store or the one you met at the games, not the one you had broken up with. The one you had broken up with had been a douchebag, and had let the fame get to him.

You heard a knock at your hotel room and you opened the door. There stood Lance, teary eyed and holding a bouquet of pink roses.

"Y/N, I'm so-"

You cut him off by slamming the door in his face and then turning away, only to question something.

You opened the door to reveal a shocked Lance, still holding the flowers and still teary eyed.

"How the hell did you find out what room I'm in?" You asked out of anger and confusion.

He was taken aback by the question before he answered. "I, uh, called in a few favors," he mumbled, his eyes going down your body until they reached the ground.

"Oh, yeah. Because you're the hot shot and the superstar. Sorry, sometimes I forget I'm associated with such 'high class,'" you fired back.

Lance only frowned, still looking at the ground. "I'm sorry, Y/N," he mumbled, shakily bringing the flowers forward for you to take them.

You took them quickly and set them on the counter, and then turned back to him. "You are a complete and utter jerk, Lance," you said.

"I know," he mumbled, his eyes spilling a few tears.

"And you never let me finish my sentences," you said back. He looked up at you. "You are a complete and utter jerk for doing this to me," you said.

"I know, Y/N-"

"Once again with the sentences," you mumbled before pulling him in the room then shutting the door behind you. You slammed your lips onto his and shoved him against the wall. He reacted slowly at first, and then kissed back, sloppily, with as much fervor as you.

You peeled the white t-shirt off of him and through it somewhere in the room. He pulled away from the kiss and pulled your Panic! shirt off of you. You noticed his eyes were no longer teary, but filled with lust.

He threw your shirt somewhere and began backing you up towards the bed. You moaned into the kiss as he laid you down. He stood over you as he pulled your pants off, and then your panties.

You reached up and pulled him down on top of you. You rolled him over and began tugging down his jeans and then his boxer briefs.

"Yes," you moaned as you stared at his hard member.

He gulped and prepared himself for the immense pleasure he was bound to feel.

You positioned yourself over him and put your hands on his chest, and then sunk down slowly.

"Ohhh," you moaned, feeling every inch of him inside you.

He moaned in response and his eyes rolled back. "Y/N, yes," he moaned.

You began making love to him, moving up and down on him slowly. You felt every inch of him with every thrust from you- and you loved it.

"Lance, God," you moaned, looking up at the ceiling.