Marvel Imagines and One-shots (Requests Closed)

Sunday Brunch - Steve Rogers

You sat at the end of the table, shoulders slumped with a cup of coffee in your hands. The rest of the team filed in and you ignored them, your mind already on what you had to endure today.

"What's up with you?" Clint asked.

You glanced at him before grunting and taking a sip of your coffee.

"Seriously, Y/N, what's wrong?" That came from Steve. Your gaze darted to him over your cup. The concern in his voice almost had you explaining, but he could wait until after your coffee. You'd been up all night worried about today and you needed the caffeine more than you needed air at this point.

"It's today, isn't it?" Natasha asked and you nodded. She was the one of the few that knew the extent to which you were dreading this day.

"What's today?" Steve sounded near panicked. You couldn't really blame him. Your usual pleasant demeanor was nowhere to be seen at the moment.

"Sunday brunch," Nat answered for you.

Tony's head shot up in the kitchen. "That's today?"

You hummed in agreement. He muttered something you didn't catch before heading over with a bottle of Bailey's in hand. "Ah, thank you." You took the liquor from him and topped off your coffee. "That'll help immensely."

"What's so horrible about brunch?" Bucky asked around a mouthful of food. Steve, Sam and Bucky had been on mission the last time you went so they had missed the fallout. Lucky bastards.

"It's not just any brunch. It's brunch with her family," Clint offered before shooting you a sympathetic smile.

"And?" Sam prompted after no one proceeded to fill them in on the rest.

You raked a hand through your hair. "My parents have a skewed sense of reality. They were both born into money, have always had it and are used to getting what they want. Part of that is a particular set of expectations for their children. None of which I have fulfilled."

"It can't be that bad," Sam said.

You arched a brow. "I am not above slashing my own tires to avoid this brunch." Even the thought had you smiling though it faded quickly. "Who am I kidding? They'd just send a car."

Steve studied you with his intense blue eyes and a furrowed brow. "I don't understand, Y/N. What expectations could they possibly have that you don't meet? You're amazing." His cheeks flared red as if just realizing what he'd said. "I mean—"

Bucky placed a hand on Steve's shoulder. "What Stevey boy here meant to say was he thinks you're gorgeous, talented, badass, and sexy as hell."

"Bucky!"

The dark-haired super soldier grinned and shot you a wink which had you chuckling as you sipped your coffee. He loved to give Steve shit.

"Y/N, I didn't...I mean what Bucky said—"

You waved a hand through the air to let him know it didn't matter. Steve glared at Bucky as he rubbed a hand across the back of his neck. "I could single handedly find the cure for cancer and I would still be a disappointment to my parents. My mother in particular. I am a daughter. Expectations for me include marrying a nice, respectable man. Preferably one that can support me in the lifestyle my parents think I should have. He should have a boring job and boring hobbies. We should then have at least 2.4 children and a dog. Just one; a pure breed that costs more than any animal should ever cost."

The room around you remained silent as you took a sip of your coffee. Steve opened his mouth to say something and you lifted a finger to let him know you weren't quite finished. "I should not work as it gives the impression my husband cannot support our family on his salary. Even if I am three times as brilliant as him my only job should be my volunteer efforts. PTA. HOA. Or whatever the acronym of the week is. My only value comes from the man whose arm I am on."