Dilemma | A Chris Evans, Ransom Drysdale, and Steve Rogers x Reader Fanfic

It's A Date

"Hey, Y/N?" Steve gently nudged you awake.

You groggily sat up, wiping the sleep away from your eyes, "What?"

"Class is over..." He chuckled lightheartedly.

You groaned, "I didn't get much sleep last night after the party."

"It's okay, I took some notes from Professor Douglass's lecture. You can look them over it you'd like." He smiled softly at you. You smiled back, grateful that you had a helpful friend in this class. "Also, he assigned us to write a comparative essay on two art pieces at one of the local museums. Would you like to come with me later this week? You know, so you're not confused..." He was slightly stumbling over his words, clearly flustered with his proposal.

"I'd love to." You nodded, already feeling better.

"Great, awesome! Uh, I'll pick you up around noon on Saturday then?" Steve grinned, flashing his pearly whites that made you want to bask in his warm smile all day.

"Sounds great," you nodded in response and quickly wrote down your phone number on a piece of scratch paper for him.

⁂⁂⁂

It's been three days since the party and Ransom didn't show up to Econ at all, which made you sigh in relief. You couldn't bear to face the embarrassment of seeing him—the intensity of the gossip about you and Ransom shortly died the day after the party..fortunately enough. And, from the stuff you've heard about Ransom's usual flings, you were just another body to him.

You waited patiently outside the lecture hall for Steve to come meet you. You were nervous, but you weren't sure why.

You tugged your sleeves down due to the gust of wind that blew right through you. You shivered and looked up at the cloudy sky.

"Here," someone placed a coat around your shoulders. You turned away skeptically to the jacket donor and realized it was Steve. "Ready for our date?"

You tried not to let your jaw drop, "What?"

"It's a date, right?" He nudged you jokingly before adjusting the front of his coat around your shoulders. You blushed and shrugged, knowing he was an upperclassman. "I'm kidding, are you ready though?"

You nodded hesitantly, but you noticed your peers passing by you, whispering and pointing. You could only ignore them, but you figured it was some rumor about Ransom—something you should expect from kissing a playboy like him.

You held your chin up high and followed Ransom to the parking lot, forgetting that upperclassmen can have cars on campus.

"Wow..." You were caught off guard at his vehicle. "Is this yours?"

Steve let out a hearty chuckle before handing you an extra helmet. "She's beautiful, right?" He gestured to the motorcycle in front of him and tugged his own helmet into place.

He climbed into the seat, shifting his weight to be more comfortable and looked back at you. You quickly stuffed your arms into his jacket and pulled your school bag closer to your body as you boarded the two-wheeled form of transportation.

"Hang on tight," he revved his engine and backed out of the parking lot. You wrapped yours arms around his broad waist to feel secure, quickly shaking your head to make sure the helmet was on correctly.

Cruising through the suburbs near Thrombey University was beautiful. The leaves were turning a dark caramel shade, signaling that autumn was coming to an end. You felt free, independent, and mostly...alive on the back of Steve's motorcycle.

The wind caressed your face and whipped through your hair like a playful spirit. The chill from the breeze made your nose turn red as you continued sniffling to keep yourself warm. Your anxieties flew away with the leaves that were rustled by the two of you blasting through the streets.

"You doing alright back there?" Steve shouted over his shoulder.

"Yes," you managed to breathe out before quickly shutting your mouth to avoid any unwanted substances flying into it.

"We'll be on the freeway for a bit, but don't worry." Steve informed you and picked up the pace as he merged onto the entrance ramp.

You clamped your arms around Steve tighter as nervousness started bubbling in your stomach. As quickly as your nerves had risen, your time on the freeway ended as Steve exited back into the slower-paced world.

He took a couple of more turns before pulling into a lot that seemed to lead into a maze of flowers and hedges. Multiple people and school buses were bustling through the area, meaning this was an educational tourist attraction.

After parking in a more narrow spot, Steve got off his bike first in order to help you. You unbuckled the straps underneath your chin and pulled the slightly too big helmet off your head. "Thanks," you shook out the adrenaline you received from riding behind Steve.

"Of course," he grinned and stashed the helmets away and jokingly brushed off his shoulders. "Shall we?" You nodded in response, wiping your clammy hands on the front of your bottoms.

⁂⁂⁂

It was beautiful inside the museum. Being located in a smaller town outside of the big city, it mostly contained local artists' work—which was still very impressive. You can across many different pieces that told so many stories at a time. You were in heaven.

As for Steve, well, you haven't seen him for the past twenty minutes. The two of you got split up once you both discovered a masterpiece to write your essay on. Your essay topic focused more so on the technical aspects of the artwork—ranging from color theory to analysis of brush strokes and sizes. It didn't compare to Steve's thesis, however.

"I'm writing about the power of nostalgia," you remembered Steve proudly reveal to you earlier. You giggled at his genuine response—he was a man of the past. He loved everything vintage; you recalled him talking about his obsession with thrift shopping in places usually meant for elderly people. He promised to take you one day.

You studied the artwork in front of you, taking note of this artist's style. Your mind started to wander the more you got lost in the abstract shapes of the painting. You couldn't stop thinking about Chris. You were wondering what he thought about you since that night you kissed Ransom. You hoped Chris was just being overly protective, but it didn't make sense to you.

Wouldn't he be comforting you and taking your side instead of choosing no side at all? He was always there for you when you had boy issues—notably boy issues that escalated its expectations because of your crush on Chris. You were causing so much romantic drama for yourself so Chris could take care of you. He was your best friend, and you loved every moment with him.

Why couldn't he have felt the same?

You hoped he would contact you soon. He was as MIA as Ransom. You were all confused, wondering how your life could've gotten to this point. Nothing exciting as this whirlwind you were caught in happened in the area you came from. Now, being in college, your lifestyle has drastically changed.

Your throat ached, your head pounded, and sweat beaded your forehead. You had to sit yourself down on one of the art gallery's benches. You felt your heartbeat racing as thoughts swirled in your mind. You could hardly breathe, it felt like someone was squeezing all the air out of your lungs by contracting your chest.

"Are you okay?" Steve rounded the corner, notebook in hand, and ran towards you when he caught sight of your condition. You shook your head shakily as the rest of your body trembled from the invisible breeze that swept through you. "Come on, my place isn't this far, you should rest."