IMAGINES: CAPTAIN AMERICA x READER

My Neon Destiny

"How did I end up here?" Captain America muttered as he pushed through the sweaty, noisy crowd.

The nightclub was packed tonight. It felt as if all of Brooklyn had crammed into this small, stifling room just to show Steve Rogers how people "really" relax.

People were shouting, singing along, and moving to the beat of the music, while Steve huffed in frustration. He was thankful that no one would recognize him in the dim lighting as he stubbornly forced his way toward the exit.

But underneath it all, Rogers was angry.

"Friends," he grumbled under his breath. "How could they pull something like this?"

He dodged another stumbling teenager who'd somehow found their way into the chaos, his irritation mounting. The answer to his question was simple enough — his endless lectures about how people should live, or shouldn't, had finally worn everyone down. Captain America, with his unyielding moral compass and strict adherence to rules, couldn't wrap his head around the fact that, in the modern world, people relaxed in ways that didn't fit into his neat little box. He refused to accept that some enjoyed drinking, clubbing, or blasting their ears out at concerts. Nor could he understand why others made a living by dancing in clubs or cabarets.

Most of all, he couldn't grasp that not everyone shared his view of the world. Life was tough for many, and people found ways to survive, however unconventional.

"You're such a prude, Cap," Tony Stark would often tease. "A real blue stocking."

After one such jab, Rogers and Stark had gotten into a fight so heated that Natasha and Clint had to separate them, and then spend the rest of the day making sure they stayed apart in Avengers Tower.

But Tony Stark, being Tony Stark, wasn't the type to just let it go.

He'd spiked Rogers' drink with a sleeping pill, and once Steve was knocked out, Stark had him transported to the VIP section of one of his favorite clubs.

And that's why Steve was now storming through a sea of bodies, fuming and hurt, determined to reach the exit.

"I just don't get it," he muttered. "All these sweaty, half-naked bodies... this decadence." He stomped his foot, but in the blaring music and flashing lights, no one heard him. "Stark, we're going to have a long talk about this."

Just as he was about to escape the dance floor, someone bumped into him—hard. Or rather, someone small. He glanced down, startled.

"Sorry!" came a bright, ringing voice from somewhere near his waist.

Steve looked down and met the gaze of a petite woman with striking blue eyes and a playful smile. Judging by her glittering, provocative outfit, she was a Go-Go dancer at the club.

"Why so serious?" she teased, her grin as dazzling as her outfit. "Can I get you a drink?"

"No, thanks," Steve muttered, already turning to leave, which was far from gentlemanly. But just as he brushed past her wrist, a jolt shot through his body, stopping him in his tracks. His breath hitched, and his heart seemed to skip a beat.

"Soulmate."

The word echoed in his mind, leaving him stunned. Soulmates were rare—so rare, in fact, that even in his own time, they were practically unheard of. It took him a moment to process what had just happened.

He slowly lowered his gaze to the girl, who looked just as wide-eyed and bewildered as he did. Her eyes, which moments ago had merely been pretty, were now hypnotic—a deep ocean of blue he could easily get lost in. Her outfit, which had seemed flashy and bold, now struck him as perfectly fine. Modest, even. The fishnet stockings didn't seem so bad anymore.

"You know," Steve finally broke the silence between them, "I think I'd like that drink after all. Care to join me?"

"Yes," she answered, her lips curving into a smile. "I'd love to."

With that one word and that stunning smile, warmth flooded through Steve's chest, and for the first time that night, he felt like he could finally breathe. As he took her hand and led her toward the bar, a mischievous thought crossed his mind:

"Maybe I owe Stark a thank you after all."