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You were bouncing on your toes, repeatedly adjusting the small bag hanging crosswise on your body, staring up the street. Steve had insisted on picking you up, even though you’d told him you were perfectly fine riding the subway to Red Hook.
“Absolutely not,” he’d laughed, the sound rich and lustful in your ear, sending a shiver down your spine.
You’d been outside for a little over ten minutes when the roar of a motorcycle coming down the street drew your attention. A few seconds later, Steve rolled to a stop at the curb, a huge Harley rumbling between his legs. He cut the engine with a huge grin on his face.
“H-hi,” you stammered nervously, warily eyeing the motorcycle. “Um...you...you brought the motorcycle?”
“I did,” Steve replied, one eyebrow arching. “Are you...are you not okay with that?”
“I just...um, I don’t think I should…” You cleared your throat. “I’m not sure you and me, and the bike...I mean, I’m so -”
Steve’s eyes narrowed and his mouth noticeably tightened. He held his hand out to you, which you took gingerly. He gave a gentle tug.
“It’ll be fine,” he said. “I promise.”
“I’m not too, um, big?” you murmured.
“Definitely not,” Steve said firmly. “Come on.”
You sighed heavily, but you stepped off the curb, climbed onto the motorcycle behind Steve, and rested your hands lightly on his waist. That must not have been good enough for him, because he huffed loudly, grabbed your hands and pulled them all the way around his waist until they were touching.
“Scoot closer,” he ordered. “Right up against my back.”
You did as he ordered, grimacing as his hand wrapped around your thick thigh, squeezing gently. You rested your cheek against his back, praying you wouldn’t do anything stupid. The bike started with a fierce rumble, making your entire body vibrate. You squealed, which Steve must have heard, because he chuckled, his back shaking under your cheek.
“It’s okay, Y/N,” he said, his voice rising to be heard over the sound of the motorcycle.
You nodded, but you tightened your grip on his waist, biting your tongue to hold back a second sound as he pulled away from the curb, accelerating rapidly.
Less than twenty minutes later, Steve was parking his motorcycle and helping you onto the sidewalk. You wobbled a little on your feet; after speeding through the streets of Brooklyn to Erie Basin Park, and despite Steve being a cautious and careful driver, you felt a little lightheaded and slightly off-kilter. He took you in his arms, hugging you close, his lips pressed to your temple, his hand rubbing gentle circles on your back.
You clung to him, loving the feel of being in his arms, the sound of his heartbeat in your ear, the feel of his breath in your hair. You could have stayed there forever.
“Well, isn’t that an adorable picture?” you heard a loud voice shouting.
Steve sighed, then he let you go, keeping hold of your hand, and turned to the group of people walking toward you.
Bucky, Natasha, Sam, a tall, lanky blonde man, and an absolutely ethereal redhead - Wanda Maximoff - were crossing the parking lot, heading right for you. When they reached you, to your surprise, Bucky gave you a one armed hug, while Natasha managed to give you a friendly smile. Sam wasted no time teasing Steve about the display of public affection they’d just witnessed, while Wanda and the blonde stood quietly off to the side.
“Y/N, this is Wanda and Vision,” Steve said, pointing to them.
You were slightly taken aback. Everything you’d seen or read about Vision showed him as this deep reddish purple man in a flowing cape, not the tall blonde standing in front of you. He must have noticed your reaction, because he touched the back of your hand and smiled warmly at you.
“It is merely an illusion,” he whispered. “It is rather difficult to wander about the city looking as I do. This way I can move freely without drawing unwanted attention.”
“Yeah, we get enough of that when we’re out with superstar here,” Sam laughed, bumping Steve with his shoulder. “Staring, fawning, fainting, phone numbers thrown at his feet -”
“Sam!” Steve glared at his friend.
Sam’s mouth snapped closed. “Sorry,” he mumbled.
“It’s lovely to meet you,” Wanda said, stepping in to cover the awkward silence filling the air. Her accent was soft and musical to your ears. “Steve has told us so much about you.”
“Thank you, Ms. Maximoff,” you smiled. “It’s an honor to meet you.”
“Please, call me Wanda,” she replied, holding her hand out to you.
“Of course.” Your smile grew even wider as you shook her hand. “Steve didn’t tell me everyone was coming.”
“We asked him not to,” Bucky shrugged. “We were afraid if you knew we were all coming, you wouldn’t.”
You couldn’t help but laugh; he wasn’t wrong. You probably wouldn’t have come if you’d known everyone was going to be there, because no matter how kind they’d been to you, no matter how much Steve told you they liked you, you were still a little uncomfortable around them. You just couldn’t bring yourself to believe they might actually enjoy your company.
Bucky clapped his hands together. “Alright, who’s ready for a full day of music?”
The group set off, Bucky leading the way. You made your way across the park, your hand in Steve’s, strolling the length of the boardwalk before making your way down to the stage. There were enough vendors lining the boardwalk to occupy everyone for quite awhile. You could hear the faint sounds of the music, people cheering, while you wandered the vendor stalls. The smell of dozens of mouth watering foods filled the air, enticing you at every step. It took you almost an hour to make your way through all the vendors and down to the stage.
The night was perfect - perfect music, perfect food, perfect company. You couldn’t have asked for anything better. Hours later, as the clock ticked closer to midnight, you found yourself in Steve’s arms, swaying together to the music coming from the stage.
“You good?” Steve murmured in your ear.
“I’m good,” you replied, your head resting on his shoulder. “Better than good.”
You could feel Steve smile as he kissed your temple.
“Me too,” he whispered.