Imagine: Steve Roger/Captain America x Reader
Synopsis: As a very private actress, you decided to spend some time away from set in a local, Manhattan cafe.
Word Count: 2,217

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Resting the brim of your sunglasses beneath the bridge of your nose, you quickly scanned around the surrounding areas while you are currently situated on the driver seat inside your car. Just cranking the breaks after parking your car outside the local Manhattan café, you can quickly conclude that nobody nearby with cameras spanned the streets a few at a time. That is just perfect.

Grabbing your tablet, you made your way out of the car, paid the meter nearby with some coins, then headed towards the café.

Ding! The daily bell rings.

Entering the café, it was no surprise that people flowed through lines or clumped in groups surrounding tables lounged the small space. It's like, 7 a.m. Business was thriving as usual, and you were happy that people will be minding their own businesses whilst drinking their preferred beverage, most likely occupied by something. Making your way through the line, you stood and waited.

As you are familiar with the process of ordering your (your/fave/drink), that part went so well.

That other difficult task was trying to find a table to situate yourself in, along with your delicious beverage, then read a favored novel from your tablet library. Pushing up your glasses farther up the nose and tucking further your forehead beneath the shadows of your (your/favorite/hat), your search initiated.

And you found a lucky table to rest your butt into its chairs until someone took that. You quickly observed its favorable conditions, it's a table underneath great lighting with no irritating air drafts, you were quite frustrated that it was taken away.

You aren't shy, but a woman with an enclosed disposition. You are a woman who enjoyed a great amount of solitude yet you aren't afraid to express or simply communicate with others. So, you approached the man that took the special seat and simply asked, "sorry, but if you won't mind, may I take a seat here because this café is awfully full and this seat seemed available so–"

Yep, that's a flaw, your perfectionist-self thought, can't stop rambling.

"Of course, ma'am. You may take a seat," he said. Gesturing for you to sit, you immediately halted your lips to letting no words pass through and nodded.

"Thank you." Those were the words that you permitted to escape your lips, along with a small smile to curl. Nodding, you further pulled down your hat and set down your drink then finally set down your tired ass into the cushioning of the seat. "Don't mind me, I'll just be reading in my Kindle so..."

You noticed the man, who kept his face below the brim of his cap, nods. "I understand, ma'am. Don't mind me either." The man sneaked a small smile.

You grinned wider, "thanks. Again."

"No problem."

A pause of silence. But you spent that small pause wisely by noticing his behavior. A slouchy posture with his head bent down, it's obvious that he enjoys a great deal of isolation as well. And perhaps, a concealment of identity?

Sure.

Secluding his broad shoulders and a chin tucked, you noticed that he concentrated on drawing something with a simple pencil on a piece of the napkin the café provides.

Smiling that he's just drawing a simple bouquet of flowers, you decided to not point it out with a compliment on how he's executing the sketching. Then actually, you decided to remove the sketchy sunglasses. It was obvious that you are in the same situation as the man, hiding who you are, alone in the café. Well, not really.

What's really weird is that you are processing all these thoughts.

So, you just thought, I don't care...

You took a sip of your (your/fave/drink) then began proceeding to finish (your/fave/novel).

———

Your (your/fave/drink) ran out quickly. In at least under one hour. But at the least, you finished the novel about a few hours later, at least two.

It's already 9 a.m. You arrived around 7.

What's weird is that you noticed the man sitting across from you hasn't finished– actually he did.

He finished the sketch with the bouquet of flowers. Now he's starting a new one with a woman reading a physical book, hiding her identity under a pair of sunglasses and a (your/fave/hat), and the last touch was to add a small smile curled up at her lips whilst she was reading. Instantly, you knew he's sketching you and you thought that it's beautiful and... that it's very sweet. So you were entranced into watching his pencil, then his hands, his concentrating face. Finally noticing he looked no older than his late twenties. But the details aren't that released yet.

The man looks up for more guidance of his model, but he realized his model is watching him instead with an amused smile. His face drops a small smirk, into a straight, surprised frown

Immediately, he was embarrassed and threw himself in a fit of stutters, "um-uh I-I'm so, so sorry... I didn't honestly me-mean... Uh– Jesus, I'm so sorry but I've got to go."

He panicked and quickly tucked the series of napkins worth of sketches and his pencil into his leather jacket.

And that's when the details have been released. The man, with eyes worth the whole ocean, abruptly left in this unideal situation. And at the moment, you're absolutely smitten. But I feel like I've seen him somewhere...

You needed to stop him. "Wait! Don't..." But the daily bell rung as he exited the café. "Go. Great."

As unrealistic your thoughts may seem, damn right was that real because it just sprawled out in your whole, entire mind.

Quickly you stood up and hurriedly exited the place as well. As you stepped out of the café, you removed your (your/fave/hat) and frantically searched for him. And boy can he run places. He can't just leave without my "thank you." I think?

Until you realized that it was seriously a bad idea for removing those garments that were meant to conceal your identity. Because at an instant, the surrounding people completely recognized you and all at once they ran to you.

"OMG, it's (y/n)!!"

"Holy fuck, it's (y/f/n)!"

"Is that freaking (y/f/n)?!"

Shit. Just shit, (y/n).

"(Y/F/N)!! Can I–" take my autograph, a picture, a hug, a kiss, but whatever it is, everyone probably in the whole street crowded almost around you. Probably in between the whole shenanigan did they block out the glaring sun from your vision as well.

Catching a sight of a small space left between the invading crowd, you became determined and quickly slipped on your (your/fave/hat) and sunglasses then sprinted through it.

Sprinting did your shoes could bring you, away from the cries and calls of the fans and paparazzi. Until someone clung onto your arm and dragged you into a nearby alleyway.

Panicked, you struggled and screamed from his grip, until he firmly placed a hand over your mouth so you could shut the hell up.

The calls and cries of crazy and committed people drew nearer. "Shh," the mystery man hushed in his voice, which sounded familiar. "Trust me on this," he assured. You still can't see his face.

Hesitantly, you nodded. And the only reason why you would agree to this "trustworthy" stranger was that on how familiar his voice echoes through your mind palace and how gentle and relaxed it seemed.

The man suddenly reveals a black umbrella and springs it open, covering both of you from above. Then, the umbrella releases these hanging sleeves of sheets, which, the purpose was unaware to you, those hanging sheets served as an invisibility cloak. Concealing the both of you by blending into the subtle alleyway.

Those, yes, those people stopped before the entrance of the alleyway as that is the last sight of you was located. And to their dismay, the famous (y/f/n) can't be found anywhere.

You were impressed by this technology. Sure, it's normal in everyday life that your neighbor was a man who's a billionaire, who's invented a suit that soars through the skies and shoots missiles to its heart's content and is made of a gold-titanium alloy here in everyday Manhattan but, you are always impressed. Just before your eyes, you watched disappointed fans and paparazzi shroud their shoulders and leave the alleyway's entrance. Finally releasing you back into your private solitude. Including this mystery man of course.

A few seconds later, his hand no longer firmly plasters over your mouth and packs up the black umbrella. Immediately you take a good look at his face. And your breath was taken away because damn, he's gorgeous. And were you very relieved that he was the same man from the café. "Thank you," was all you managed to breath out.

The man looked down, letting the brim of his cap cover his eyes once again. You still noticed some pink flush his cheeks. "Your welcome, and um, I apologize for the um, covering of the mouth thing..."

You laugh quietly, "it doesn't matter. That was the right thing to do so those paps won't find out that I'm here. So, thanks, really, again. Um, how can I repay you?"

He looks up then blankly stares at you. "A repayment's not needed."

You rose an eyebrow as he walked out of the alleyway. Trailing behind his hurried steps, you were determined to not let him go this time because third time being the charm won't be one.

"Hey! At least let me know who you are stranger because something tells me you are in the same situation as I was. Well at least, sometimes."

He stopped walking, then faced at you. His expression was less stern and much softer, realizing of his rude actions. You could guess tension heavily weighed his shoulders due to what he has previously experienced. "Sorry. Again."

You lightly giggled.

He flashed a small grin. "I guess I'm being too rude to others, especially to a pretty dame like you, ma'am."

Smooth. And old-fashioned. He continues, "the name's Steve. Steve Rogers." He let out a hand.

That name! With wide eyes, you shook no other than Captain America's hand. You were speechless. And you could guess that it's your turn to be in a fit of stutters. "Um, (y/l/n), (y/f/n), and uh– the pleasure's all mine, Captain!" Jesus, get it together, (y/n)...

"The pleasure's all mine, Ms. (y/l/n)," Steve returns. You smiled, still shocked of the granted honor. "And uh, beautiful name, ma'am."

You can't help but laugh. Honestly, you were grateful that he has probably no idea or recognized you by or until now. It was amusing of his awkward demeanor, which was unexpected once you'd meet the Captain. Or was it only just this once would he talk like that? He resumes walking, at a much slower pace, as you trailed behind and eventually made it by walking right beside him.

He clears his throat, "sorry about if I was, erm, disturbing while I was I drawing you back at the café, ma'am."

"Okay first, it's (y/n). Spare some of your formalities, because I bet that even both in positions are we intimidated with each other considering that you tried to hide who you are as so did I..." You both continued walking along the street, "hence the crowd of chasing fan girls and fan boys. Second, I watched briefly on what you did to the napkin. I guess I owe you again for making me your model."

He stopped in his tracks, his hands further in the pockets of his jacket. "I suppose? I was running out of ideas on what to draw."

You smirked, "what's it cost?"

His confidence increased, "...coffee?" Add a complimentary smirk.

Your excitement increased. Hell yeah! "I can count on that."

Oh shit.  Your thoughts remembered. What about my schedule?! Actually, forget the schedule, I don't care!

"Saturday, morning's always great."

Your smile grew wider. "Yeah. It-it does."

And there's always that moment. Full-on, just staring and mesmerized. Both facing each other with smiles.

Steve realized he forgot to do something. Surprised, he reached over his pocket and retrieved the napkin. You stood, staring at the piece of tissue.

He handed it to you, "so I'll guess I'll see you Saturday morning."

You accepted the napkin, eager to open it up and just probably stare at the sketch for centuries. Looking away from the folded napkin, you found Steve walking away, with his hands shoved into the pockets of his leather jacket, onto a nearby motorcycle with his cap much lower down his forehead (A/N: puns...). With his head lowered and posture slouched, he briefly looks back, sending another of his smirks and a wink. You just stood there speechless and continued smiling at yourself for the unexpected turn of events, this very enjoyable morning.

Happy, you turned around to the other direction of the street, walking back to your car.

Unlocking the car, your hand stopped in the middle of reaching for the door handle. Immediately you unfolded the napkin, revealing that sketch you were longing to stare at. And his signature at the lower right corner of the napkin. And– his number?

Although, your mesmerization was interrupted. Due to the obnoxious sound of ringing from your pocket. Thankfully it didn't slip out while you were fleeing from the crowd.

Anyways, you answered the call from your agent, "(y/n)?! Hemsworth's waiting for you on set, you're fucking late! He's–"

"Yeah, yeah," you interrupted, "lead roles can wait but erm, can you check my Saturday schedule?"

A short pause. "Saturday schedule? Um, that's your day off from the set."

You erupted into your mental happy dance. "Oh, okay, thank you. I'm on my way, I'm just twenty minutes away. Minus traffic."

Your agent groaned, "(y/n)!"

And you couldn't help but laugh as you speed off to the movie set.

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Writer's note: I love long imagines. And the umbrella part? Creds to the agents of SHIELD! Love the show. Any thoughts, questions, comments, concerns? Personally message me or just comment, up to you!

Thanks so much for checking this out!!