Meet Cute - Chapter 4
Author: SaffreeLove
Warnings: smut and swearing, come on y'all it's me, there will always be swearing.
Words: 4000+
A/N: Why, yes, I totally gave my ofc/reader character a name in the fourth chapter. Also, for any fellow con goers, I know he would never be so unattended, but hey, fiction.
There is an epilogue after this that is already written (gasp!) I’ll put it up in a few days.
Meet Cute Masterlist
Around two in the the morning you woke up to go to the bathroom. While washing your hands, you looked up into the mirror and the panic hit you like a mack truck. What in the hell were you doing? You were still in Seb’s hotel room! Why?! What did you actually think would happen after this? Where could this even go? Nowhere, that's where, you idiot. Of course it's not going anywhere! He's Sebastian Stan, and you are his fan. The idea of looking into Seb's eyes while he let you down gently about this being just a one time thing, and what were you still doing here, and did you think this could go somewhere...you didn't want to watch him do that. He would never say it with those words either. He would be sweet and caring and thoughtful. It would be awful.
Last night had been so wonderful. Not only the amazing sex, because goddamn that man had skills, but the hanging out had been pretty great as well. He was funny and dorky and actually interested in what you had to say. The warm smile on your face faded out when you thought about the morning to come. The panic bubbled up again, making your heart race.
Deep down, you knew that this was your anxiety rearing it's horrible, bitchy head. But, just because you know where it's coming from doesn't mean you can control your feelings. Or the fact that your body was already preparing to run. Your hands had already begun to shake from the adrenaline.
You had to get out.
You were as stealthy as possible, given the fact that all you could hear was your heart pounding in your ears. Grabbing your jeans and shirt, you threw them on, and managed to not fall on your ass. Shoving your socks into your shoes, you grabbed your bag and hoodie, and looked up one last time. Dammit. He was so beautiful just laying there. Before you left you took a few seconds to burn his image into your mind. You closed his door before the first tear fell.
Sebastian woke up and rolled over reaching for you only to come up empty. Checking the clock, he saw it was just not quite three am. He figured you were probably just in the bathroom, but as he lay there he realized that there were no sounds of movement coming from the bathroom or the rest of the hotel room, his stomach sank. He got up and slowly walked down the hallway toward the bathroom. It was empty. Nothing. No sound. No light. No you. He flopped back onto the bed, “fuuuck.”
You were gone. He, like a fucking idiot, hadn't gotten your last name or even your phone number. He could have sworn that you weren't the one-night stand type. He'd been banking on you at least staying for breakfast. But, nope. He was a fool and you were gone.
You fell into your bed, released the tenuous hold you had on yourself, and let the tears out, finally. Hadn't they really been brewing since the elevator yesterday? Questions flew through your mind while you were having your pity party. Was sneaking out the right choice? Did you actually do him a favor? Or were you just running due to your fears? Shit. Did you have any chance at fixing this? Could you do anything to make this not the final outcome?
The answer was, “no, you dumbass!” You couldn't fix it now, you certainly couldn't get back into Seb's room, and you obviously didn't have his cell number. Could you just imagine the phone call down to the front desk? “Hi, could you connect me to Sebastian Stan’s room? Yeah, I know you don't have anyone registered under that name and even if you did, you still wouldn't connect me.” Fuck. You were a fool for running.
After a fitful night's sleep (re: not sleeping), you'd come to a decision. You were still going to your scheduled photo op with Sebastian. But, you were going fully kitted out in your Winter Soldier cosplay. It was always your plan to wear it to the photo op, but you had gone back and forth about the Winter Soldier face mask. Deciding that the more anonymity you had the better, you got the mask, wig, and makeup out. Instead of the ‘guy-liner’ he wore in the movie, you would just go for a smokey eye.
Checking the time, you had a last look over yourself in the full length mirror. Not quite a Magenta-level smoky eye, but still fairly heavy. Your wig was much longer and a darker brown than your natural hair, with a slightly fish-tailed braid coming down over your right shoulder. The arm had traveled well, no scratches in the paint. Satisfied with the results, you clip on your con badge, pocketed your phone and wallet, and headed out.
The morning had already been full of pep talks directed at yourself every time you started to doubt the plan. So, not surprisingly, all that doubt popped right back up like a fucking jack-in-the-box as you stepped into the elevator. The same elevator you had been in when your life took a jolt to the East. You took a deep breath and slapped that doubt down, reminding yourself of the possibilities for today.
One: Seb recognizes you even with the mask on, gets your phone number, and you ride off into the sunset like a damn romance novel. You considered this the least likely to happen, so it got to be at the front of the queue.
Two: Seb recognizes you even with the mask on, but feels like he dodged a bullet with you sneaking out, and can just act like you are any other fan. You could sob about that one later.
Three: Seb doesn't recognize you because you have a mask covering the lower half of your face and not even Steve Rogers could recognize his best friend Bucky Barnes with that disguise! Honestly, this was the absolute most likely scenario to occur.
You left the hotel and began your trek to the photo op area. It was only about a 15 minute walk, but you gave yourself over an hour to get there, just in case. The extra time for your walk over there was because people constantly ask for photos of your cosplay and you hate having to say no to fellow fans. After the long hour of stopping and posing, solo shots, arms around fans, funny poses with various Captain Americas, fighting poses with IronMans, and one great one with a male Black Widow, you arrived at the photo venue.
For once, you were glad that the photo ops happened behind curtains. It meant that you wouldn't see Seb and he wouldn’t see you until you walked into the makeshift room for your picture. Somehow, that calmed you. Maybe it was that his not recognizing you could happen in a bit of privacy. Or did you just not want him to have time to work out who you were?
Just then, your inner bitch popped out from behind her curtain again. Why the fuck did she have a curtain? Whatever. “Listen, ho. Since we are actually the same person, let me give you the rundown about what’s going on here, since you seem hell bent on royally fucking us over. You, as we both know, are never going to tell anyone that you had a naked sleepover with Mr. “Hot as Shit” Stan. I also know that you didn’t even sneak a pic of him yesterday or this morning when you ran like a fucking coward. This is our one chance to have a tangible reminder of this weekend. You will pull yourself together. You will stay in this motherfucking line. You will take a cute as shit picture with Seb. You will give him a decent shot at recognizing you. And you will NOT purposefully sabotage any of these things. Because there is no way I’m going to live with the kind of regret and guilt that you seem to be inching us towards! Now, pull up your big girl panties and get the fuck in there.”
Taking a deep breath, you looked up and noticed that you were now only second in line. You could do this. Inner bitch was right, the regret would be debilitating. Stepping up, you handed over your voucher for the prepaid photos. One of the volunteers led you back to the photo set and pushed back the curtain.
Once it became clear to Sebastian that sleep was no longer an option for him, he decided he might as well get to the gym. His trainer, Don, had emailed him a set list for this weekend, full of typical ‘Don notes’ about not banging weights together and keeping his form correct. So, he could at least stay on track with his training. Once he'd checked that the hotel’s gym had pretty much everything he needed, he got to work. As he settled into his rhythm, he found his mind wandering to you, even though he was still focusing on his form and breathing.
Why had you left without waking him up? Or leaving a note? Or anything? Why did he not get your number last night? Why did he not even get your fucking last name? Or room number? Or take a picture with you? Or of you?
He only had the answer to one of his questions. He didn't get your number because he'd assumed you'd be there in the morning and that would be the best time to ask for it. It would have been awkward the night before to ask for it while you were still hanging out on his bed.
He finished up his workout out and headed back upstairs, hoping that maybe he’d see you in the hallway or elevator again. Opening his room door, Sebastian began to think that he might have to accept that he wasn’t going to see you again. He tried pushing the prospect out of his mind and focused on getting ready and called up room service for breakfast to be sent up.
Showered, fed, dressed, and groomed, Sebastian headed down to the lobby to meet the Con rep and begin his second, long con day.
He hoped that by some chance he would see you again.
Seb turned towards you with a smile as you stepped through the curtain. “Wow!”
Shit. Your eyes went wide. Oh my crap. He’s shocked that I dared come to this after last night. Great.
“That is an amazing Winter Soldier cosplay! How long did that take you? What’s the arm made of?” Ah. He doesn’t know it’s you. He’s just admiring the costume. Of course. Look, of course he doesn’t recognize you! You covered the entire lower half of your face! Might I refer you back to the ‘Steve failing to see that it’s Bucky’ outcome of the mask.
Seb was still looking at you, rather expectantly now. Oh yeah, talking. Go on, talk to him. “Uh, it took me about 6 months to put it all together. The arm is essentially just thin foam and paint over a cast. The mask is papercraft hardened with epoxy. And the clothes are thrift store finds that I modified.”
Having been caught up in explaining the details of your cosplay, you didn’t see the recognition dawn on Seb’s face. When your eyes locked back on his, you knew that he knew who you were, regardless of the fucking mask. The photographer cleared his throat and you both made your way over to the backdrop.
“So, what were you thinking for your pictures?” he asked a bit shyly.
“Oh, probably just a regular picture.”
“That's it? No squaring off of the Winter Soldiers? No silly faces?” he asked, “not even a dip?” that last one was said with an almost hopeful look in his eyes.
“That all sounds like a lot of fun, but no. Just you, you are enough.”
Seb's eyes turned a warm blue and his cheeks flushed ever so slightly. In the end, he did manage to get some fun pictures in there. The photographer agreed to the extra shots that Seb requested and said they'd be available for purchase under your account if you wanted the extras.
“Alright, that's it. We got it,” said the photographer.
You stepped away slightly and looked up into Seb’s eyes.
“Thank you, for the great pictures and just, for everything,” you say and then turn to leave because what the fuck else were you supposed to do?
“Julia!” he called out as you were almost back to the fabric wall. Startled, you turned quickly to see him jogging up to you. “Uh, are you busy? Right now? I mean, are you headed somewhere? Cause, if not, you could, you know, sort of, hang out for a bit? Just, uh, could you wait for me to be done here? I really wanted to talk to you.”
You heart had jumped with joy that he wanted you to stick around. Then it sunk, ‘talk to you?’ Isn't that the universal phrase for bad news? It had to be about last night. Was he worried that you would blab all over social media about what had happened last night?
“Sure, of course.” A con volunteer led you out a different fabric wall that you came in through. Down a hallway and through a door to what appeared to be a decently sized dressing room/green room of sorts. There was a little seating area with a few fairly comfy chairs, a loveseat, and a little side table with a mini fridge underneath.
“Feel free to help yourself to some water. Mr. Stan should be done in 20-30 minutes.”
“Ok, thanks,” you said as you sat down. The long, slow walk with all the fan interaction was catching up with you. Reaching back behind your ears, you released the mask straps to take it off. Gently, you set it down on the little table and reached underneath for a water. Knowing that if you didn't distract yourself soon you be having another fun little freak out, you slid your phone out and started up Little Alchemy. It would hopefully distract you just enough.
Your inner bitch was still yelling at you about the fact that you don’t know what he thinking, you aren’t in his head, he may not be concerned at all that you might share info online, so you just need to slow your roll. God, she was a bitch.
Sebastian was cautiously happy that you had agreed to wait backstage to talk to him in a more private setting. He was perhaps a bit more playful with the last few photo ops. His mind couldn’t help wondering whether or not you were still back stage though. Had you run again? He hoped not. He wanted to finally at least get your number, find out why you had left, and, ya know, learn your last name.
Finishing up the last picture with two fans, he gave them hugs and headed off in your direction.
Hearing the doorknob turn, you looked up. There he was walking toward you. Was he purposefully strutting? No, you didn’t think so. That was really just his walk. He just walked like sex on a stick whether he was regular Seb walking to get a coffee or murder-struting as The Winter Soldier.
Screwing up your courage, you smiled when he got closer. Seb took your smile as a good sign.
“Hey,” he said as he reached the loveseat.
“Hey, yourself,” you said. He sat down on the little couch next to you and turned to face you. Just pull the bandaid off and get the pain over with. “You wanted to talk?”
“Yeah. Umm. So...uh,” he hesitated slightly then sighed, “Why didn’t you stay? The rest of the night. Why’d you leave without waking me?” he looked at you imploringly with what looked like hurt in his eyes.
Oh. oh. That’s not what you expected him to say. At all. “I, I’m so sorry, Seb.” Taking a big breath in and letting it out, you looked down at your hands in your lap. Looking at him would not be conducive to getting through this. It was time to just take the leap and lay it all out and see where everything landed. “I uh, I woke up in the middle of the night and panicked, basically. I got this idea into my head that you wouldn’t really want me there when you woke up. That I was just a con fuck to you.” Now that you were speaking, it all just kept flowing out. “That my presence would make the morning awkward and I’d have to hear you explain gently about how you hadn’t really wanted me to stay, you were just saying that to be nice. I was trying to avoid the awkwardness and I didn't want to deal with the pain of having you reject me. And so, I ran.”
Seb brought a hand up to your cheek and slid it slightly under your chin, applying a hint of pressure to bring your head up. “Julia, look at me. I asked you to stay last night, because I wanted to be with you. I wanted to wake up with you and see your hair on my pillow. I wanted to have a lazy morning breakfast in bed and find out how you like your eggs. You are beautiful and amazing and funny, and I want to see you again. So, the question is, what do you want?”
“I just don't even understand why you would want me. I'm just me, with a boring job and only one stamp in my passport, and it's Canada! I had to make a fuss just to get the actual stamp. And you, you're Sebastian Stan for fuck's sake!” A few tears had leaked out from the sides of your eyes.
“Jules, I'm just me, too. I'm the same dork I was 15 years ago and I'm shocked when that isn't what everybody else sees. And that dork really connected with this girl named Julia. So. What do you say? Jules?”
Sebastian’s other hand came up to cradle your face, gently wiping your tears away. Nearly whispering, he said, “Jules, please say yes,” as he leaned in closer.
“Yes.” You had barely breathed out the answer when his lips met yours. His arms snaked around and pulled you close. You were both a tangled mess of kissing, hugging, lips, tongues, and roaming hands.
With his arms still wrapped around you, he leaned back to recline sideways on the couch, essentially pulling you into his lap.
Once his mouth let go of yours, he leaned his forehead into yours. “So, I have a few important questions.”
“Mmmhmm?” was about all you could manage.
“Number one: What do you want for lunch? Number two: What is your last name? And Number three: Think I could get your phone number?”
“Haha! Ummm, food. Thomson. And ‘Why Mr. Stan, how very forward of you.’”
“Sassy.” He handed you his unlocked phone to enter your contact info, then reached behind him with one hand to the other table and produced a small menu book. “Here's all the choices we have for food.”
Once you finished with his phone, you traded it for the menu. “How ‘bout the chicken & avocado wrap?” you said and handed the menu back, snuggling into his chest.
“Sounds good to me. Water good? Or do you need some caffeine or sugar?” he asked as he typed the order into his phone.
“No, water’s good,” your words slightly muffled as you spoke them directly into his shirt.
He nodded, finished typing, and set his phone down. “Ok, looks like we have 30-45 minutes before the food and an hour and a half before I have another event.”
“Hmmmm, I remember what happened the last time we ordered food together,” you teased as you looked up at him through your lashes.
“Mmmm, me too,” he said as he pulled you up closer to him for a kiss.
As his tongue swept into your mouth, he reached down with both hands to take hold of your ass and pull you up onto his thigh. “I believe I promised you a ride?”
You whimper as he gives you a rough pull forward causing a delicious amount of friction from your black tac pants rubbing against his dark jeans. “Seb, what about the door?”
“I locked it when I came in.” he groaned as he started kissing your neck, careful to avoid pulling on your wig. “Ya know, I never thought I'd find myself making out with a female version of one of my characters. Gotta say, it's pretty kinky,” he said with an eyebrow wiggle.
“You dork.” You gasped, grabbing at his hair, as he rocked you forward again.
“You love it,” he growled as your head fell back with a gasp. He increased both the intensity of his kisses on your neck and the speed with which he controlled the ride. “Baby, tell me this top opens up somewhere,” he asked while trying to get to your skin.
“Here, here, it’s right here “ you quickly showed him the diagonal zipper hidden under the flap. Your hands began to pull the bottom of his shirt up, but he stops you.
“Jules, if you start touching my skin, we’ll have a major problem on our hands. We don’t have the time and more importantly, I don’t have a condom. I’m just gonna have to make this ride extra good for you.” He said all of this while still licking and nipping at your neck. His fingers had kept busy getting your jacket open. A second later, Seb pulled it open revealing your black lace bra with the red star on the bridge between the cups. A low growl made it’s way out of his chest as his mouth began kissing and sucking you through the lace cups.
“Oh shit, yes. Just like that,” you begged. You had taken over the pace of the ride when Seb started trying to get into your jacket. So now, you were in control and could get just the right angle. The right pressure. The right speed. And now that Seb was making you crazy with his lips and tongue devouring your breasts with the lace adding the perfect extra friction, you were set to go off like a bomb.
“Mmmmm, look at you, you dirty little girl, about to come all over my thigh, aren’t you?” he continued to whisper more dirty thoughts in your ear while his fingers caressed your nipples before pinching down on them, hard.
“Mmmhmmm oooh oh yes fuuuuuck,” you cried out as you came, drawing the words out while Seb continued squeezing to prolong your orgasm.
As you came down, Seb lingered at your neck placing lazy open-mouthed kisses and rubbing his hands gently along your upper thighs.
You turned your head to his neck and gave a long, slow sweep with your tongue, a few kitten bites thrown in for good measure. That had been a fucking fantastic ride and his dirty talk had got you thinking.
“I really wish we had time for me to return the favor, Seb.” *nibble* “I wanted to lick you up and down,” *kiss* “And kiss the head of your cock,” *hair tug* “And swallow you all the way down,” *suck* “Not stopping until you came hard down my throat shouting my name.”
“Fuuuuuck,” he shakily breathed out. “You're the devil.” You smirked at him, loving how you affected him. “Maybe I'll just hold you to that later, hmmm? How'd you like that?”
“Hmmm, only if you hold my hair when you come.” As Seb groaned, a knock came from the door.
“Shit,” he whispered out harshly. “Just a minute,” he called out.
“I'll just be in the bathroom,” you said softly, climbing off him and scurrying over to the private washroom.
When you came back out, there was a spread of food and beverage on the little table and a sexy, smiling Winter Soldier seated on the loveseat. You sat down next to him and reached for your water bottle.
“So, got any vacation time coming up?” he asked, smirking when you sprayed water out of your mouth.
Epilogue
@mycapt-ohcapt @smkunz613 @smoothdogsgirl
also tagging @whostheblondegirl and @emilyevanston for their awesomeness
