#i was planning on drawing someone else but my friend requested sebastian stan

[fics-kats-procrastination]

Elevators and Disneyland (Chris Evans x Reader)

Word Count: 2.5k

Requested: No

A/N: I’ve thought about making a second part to this depicting their day in Disneyland, so let me know if y’all would want that! (: Also, GIF not mine. Credit to whoever made it. 

     It’s common knowledge that everyone is born with a soulmark that leads a person to their other half. Their perfect someone. A human being with a soul crafted entirely with the intention to complete someone else. Soulmarks are an outline of a hand or finger, placed precisely where a person’s soulmate will touch them for the first time. Once the soulmates have touched, the outline fills in with the soulmate’s favorite color. Unfortunately, your soulmark is still just an outline of a handprint on the right side of your waist. The palm resting above your right hip while the fingers press against the soft skin of your lower back. 

   As a child, the story of how your parents met was used to lull you to sleep. It was your favorite bedtime story. Although you never worried much about meeting your soulmate during the stress-free years of elementary school, the thought of meeting your significant other ran rampant in your mind once you reached your teenage years. Growing up in a small town meant that 97% of people met their soulmate during high school; however, you weren’t one of those people. You graduated from high school with a black outline while the rest of your senior class graduated with a variety of colors painting their skins and massive grins etching their lips. Knowing that your significant other didn’t live in your town, you left home and headed upstate for university. After completing two years and still majoring in undecided, the enticement of a gap year made itself known, leading you to where you are now. 

     You and your best friend, Y/F/N, are currently soaking in the last rays of California’s setting sun by the hotel pool. A vacation to Disneyland was sure to kick a gap year off right and hopefully help you narrow down what career path to take. Y/F/N is lying on her front, eyes closed as she listens to whatever song is on her playlist. Her feet lightly bobbing in time to the music. Meanwhile, you are sitting up in a sun lounger, attention divided between relaxing in the heat or ignoring text messages from your family. While you believe taking a year off from schooling is in your best interest, your parents and siblings feel as though it’s a reckless move. They have no problem making you aware of their dissatisfaction either. 

     A muffled vibration from your hand causes one of your eyelids to drift open so you can lazily peek at your phone screen. Instead of another text message, like you had expected, a tweet from one of your favorite actors popped up in your notifications. You make a mental note to read it later before you casually shove Y/F/N’s shoulder. Y/F/N’s head lifts languidly from her arms and she pulls out an earbud to talk to you. “Are you ready to head back up to the room?” You ask, noticing that the sun is barely visible between the many hotels surrounding your own. Y/F/N nods, sits up, and stretches her arms over her head before grabbing her towel to wrap it firmly around her body. 

     “Do you have the room key?” Y/F/N wonders. “I didn’t bring mine, so I hope that you remembered to grab yours otherwise we’re locked out.” A cheeky smile accompanies the teasing words she throws at you. Rolling your eyes, you stand up and copy Y/F/N’s earlier actions, wrapping the towel around your body to hold in all of the warmth you gained from California’s hot sun. The pair of you pad over to the outside door where you swipe your keycard with an obnoxious grin directed at Y/F/N. The flashing green lights signal that the door unlocked, so Y/F/N tugs the door open, allowing you both to waddle inside. 

     Cool air from the hotel’s air conditioner greets you causing goosebumps to rise along your exposed legs. You silently curse at the temperature change while hurrying over to the elevator. Y/F/N follows closely behind, grumbling to herself. Repeatedly pressing the call button for the elevator, you tug your towel tighter around your frame. “Why is it always so cold in hotels?” You rhetorically mutter as the elevator dings. “Thank the lord!” Y/F/N and yourself enter the, thankfully empty, metal box; you press the button for floor 17 on the control panel as Y/F/N presses herself into the corner in a half-hearted attempt to gain more heat. “Okay,” you begin once the elevator has started it’s ascent, “what’s tomorrow’s Disney action plan?”

     Immediately Y/F/N begins gushing about what rides she wishes to go on first tomorrow and which rides could be saved for a later day on your trip; however, you’re only half-listening because the elevator stops on floor 9 to pick up three new male passengers, all of them fit, attractive, and wearing ball-caps as well as sunglasses. There’s something about the blue NASA hat that catches your eye. You squint, studying the cap more intently until you notice the wearer of it flashing you a timid smile, fidgeting with his long fingers. You offer him an apologetic smile for the obvious discomfort you caused him and allow yourself to tune back into Y/F/N’s rambling. “-Mountain needs to be done first thing though!” 

     “Of course!” You agree, trying to appear excited about the following day, although you’re not sure if you caught anything she said. The elevator steadily climbs, reaching around floor 15 before the lights flicker followed by an unusual rumble. A pit forms in your stomach while all of the elevator’s occupants glance unsurely at one another. Your anxiety climbs when the elevator screeches to a halt, causing you to drop the towel and be thrown into the arms of Mr. NASA. His right arm wraps around your waist to catch you and press you firmly to his steady frame. One of your hands land on his bicep while the other presses against his pec in an attempt to steady your own frame. Heart pounding as you right yourself and push your hair out of your eyes with shaking hands, you spare a quick glance around the elevator before asking, “Is everyone alright?”

     Y/F/N pulls herself up from the ground with help from one of the other men on board. A gasp settles in your throat, but doesn’t escape, when you recognize the person aiding your best friend. Although his hair is cropped shorter than previous press junkets and he has more color in his cheeks, you’re positive that you’re standing in the same elevator as Sebastian Stan. His hat and sunglasses lay askew on the floor. “Wait, Y/N!” Y/F/N shouts once she’s fully standing again. Her eyes grow wide, and she crosses the elevator in two long strides before she’s gripping your arm to force you into turning more towards Mr. NASA. His hands automatically find your hips when you stumble a bit from your friend’s enthusiastic push. “Holy…” She trails off and you feel her touch, lighter than air, drawing on the bare skin of you back, visible thanks to your swimsuit’s cutout. 

     “No way!” A deeper voice joins in on Y/F/N’s speculation. A shiver runs down your spine when her touch raises goosebumps on your flesh but your attention is focused on the new speaker. He’s got a slight accent that you're able to connect to Louisiana, New Orleans to be specific. He reaches up to put his sunglasses over the bill of his hat. You notice his eyes trailing along the spot Y/F/N’s still softly tracing-a corner of your mind makes note that Y/F/N’s fingers are doodling the empty, colorless space of your soulmark-before they trail up your arm and Mr. NASA’s arm, settling on Mr. NASA’s broad, strong chest. “You’ve got to be kidding me, bro! Take off your shirt. Take it off,” he bugs NASA. 

     NASA lightly steps away from you with a scoff, exasperation coloring his tone. “I’m not just gonna take my shirt off, Mackie!” Anthony Mackie rolls his eyes at the answer and steps closer to the other male. Anthony reaches for the hem of NASA’s shirt, resulting in NASA swatting at the offending appendages. “Stop it, man!”

     “Take it off, man or I’ll take it off you!”

     “I’m not going to take it off. Stop it!”

     “You made me do this!”

     Soothing motions across your back tear your gaze from the small argument in front of you back to Y/F/N. “Could you please stop that?” You question, goosebumps still littering your skin when she finally stops the constant, moving pressure. Sebastian’s head cocks toward you as you turn to face Y/F/N again instead of NASA. About to thank her for ceasing, your eye catches on a new color in the reflective surface of the elevator’s wall. 

     A small noise of confusion leaves your lips as you twist and turn your hips in an attempt to better stare at the skin there. One last wriggle before the reflection is clear, heart beginning to race faster than a horse at the Kentucky Derby. Your mouth drops open while your eyebrows furrow, hands trying futilely to pull your skin closer to your own eyes. “Judging from your reaction, I’m assuming that hasn’t always been like that?” Sebastian’s inquiry takes you by surprise because...no, it HASN’T always been like this. It’s never looked like this before now! Where a thick black outline of a handprint used to rest, blooming drops of navy blue have filled the entirety of the space. There wasn’t a spot left within the border that your skin was visible thru. 

     Your gaze snaps up to meet Y/F/N’s own ecstatic stare, your hands numbly dropping from their hold on your hips to rest by your side. “Oh...oh!” Pressing a palm to your temple, your body leans until the wall of the elevator is at your back, supporting you as you slide down it to sit. A trembling finger points accusingly at the attractive man still arguing with Anthony. “Y-you’re...you’re my soul…you’re my soulmate!” 

     In spite of your voice being barely louder than a kitten’s snore, both men stop talking and snap their heads towards you. A self-satisfied smirk rests on Anthony’s lips as he cockily says, “Take your shirt off, man.” Eyes slightly glazed over but filled with curiosity, you look over at NASA who takes off his hat and sunglasses then grabs the back of the neck of his shirt and tosses it over his head too quickly for you to see his face. You’re desperate to see what handsome features accompany this Adonis-like body, yet you let your eyes drop to roam over his chest and arms. A splash of Y/F/C dances along his left pec enhancing the same color being sported by his right bicep. A choked off gasp comes from your throat and your breathing becomes shallower the moment you allow yourself to see his face. 

     Eyes bluer than the clearest waters are framed by the thickest set of dark brown eyelashes. They’re overset by well-kept eyebrows, in a shade of hazelnut that perfectly match the messy hat hair he’s currently supporting. A nose shaped like a ski-slope sits proportionately on his face and draws attention down to a full pair of lips. His upper lip is carnation pink and slightly skinnier than the lower lip it rests against but that thought flees your mind when a shy smile causes his mouth to quirk upward while revealing two rows of shiny white teeth, straightened perfectly by years of dental work. Although there’s some light scruff dusting his cheeks and jawline that causes your cheeks to flush, you can tell he was clean shaven a few days ago and your heart lurches at the appealing thought. His tongue quickly peeks out to wet his lower lip while he tries to come up with words to explain the unneeded tension in the atmosphere. You beat him to it.

     “You’re Chris Evans.”

     Chris stares at the floor, gaze resting on his feet that are gently shuffling. His hand rubs at the back of his neck, cheeks flushed with color. “It seems you have me at a disadvantage, sweetheart,” he chuckles, Bostonian accent thick on his tongue. Heat rushes to your cheeks at the familiar sound of his voice. Memories of all the times you’ve gushed with Y/F/N over how attractive Captain America is floods through your brain making the light pink color dusted on your face darken to a rosier hue. A quick glance at Y/F/N’s face assures you that she’s thinking the same thing especially when her eyes meet yours and she laughs awkwardly, cheeks rosy as well. Since he hasn’t received an answer, Chris sweetly prompts again, “What’s your name?” 

     “I’m Y/N,” you answer, a soft grin tugging at your lips that mirrors the one on Chris’ face. Although, you have to admit that the action looks much more enticing on his beautiful features. A strong lurch pushes you against the elevator wall, and soon the elevator is making its ascent once more. Floor 16 passes quickly and soon the elevator stops on your floor. Y/F/N bids goodbye to everyone with a sweet smile and a light wave while stepping out of the elevator. She pauses once outside as she notices that you haven’t followed her. “Oh, this...this is my floor…” you nervously chuckle as you reluctantly side step Chris to exit. You do so and begin to walk away before you whip around and shove your hand into the doors to stop them from closing. You’re able to catch a glimpse of Chris’ downfallen face light up.  “Wait!” You exclaim, “We’re going to Disneyland tomorrow,” you motion between Y/F/N and yourself. “Would you three like to join us?” 

     An awkward silence follows your bombardment. The longer it stretches, the more the smile falls from your lips and the more you’re starting to feel like a fool for even asking. They probably had more important things to be doing than going to Disneyland with you guys. They’re celebrities for crying out loud. Disappointment washes over you and you nod gently while stepping back from the elevator. “Or not. That’s cool too. You’re probably really busy. So um...yeah, I’ll just see you guys another time.” You turn and give Y/F/N a grimace and a shrug. Her comforting gaze just makes you feel even worse. You both start to walk back to your room. 

     “No! We would love to go to Disneyland with you!” Chris proclaims, causing you to turn back to face them. He’s halfway out of the elevator and reaching toward you like he was going to stop you from leaving. “I mean, we’re free tomorrow and Disneyland sounds like a great way to spend a free day.” Matching smiles light up your faces. You can’t wait for tomorrow. 

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