You live in Brooklyn and a new neighbor moves in next door…
Captain America x Reader
You lived in a three bedroom townhouse,
with two flatmates, in a lower rent section of Brooklyn. It was
nondescript; it had been built in the sixties and converted to an
apartment building sometime in the eighties, two apartments on the
first floor with a porch that spanned the front of the house, and two
apartments on the top floor. It sat on a street amid a long line of
row houses and other single family dwellings that had been turned
into apartments. It was one of many, not special in any way, but it
was home. You’d lived in the townhouse in Brooklyn for about a year
when the new neighbor moved in.
You were on your way home from work;
you’d parked around the corner and were coming up the sidewalk as the
moving truck pulled away, and up the path as the tall blonde man came
out of the neighboring apartment, accompanied by your roommate, Jake.
“Thanks for the help. My buddies were
going to help me move but they had to go out of town for… work. I
couldn’t have gotten that couch in here, or the dresser.” The big
blonde man said, running a hand through his hair.
“No problem. That’s what neighbors
are for.” You heard Jake reply; he saw you coming up the walk,
clearly exhausted from work, your black clothes rumpled from a long
day in the shop. “Y/N! We finally got a new neighbor.”
You stepped up onto the patio, looking
the newcomer up and down. He was tall, well over six feet, and he was
buff. He wore jeans and a blue tee shirt, and some kind of work
boots. You extended your hand. “Nice to meet you.” He shook it,
giving you the once over as well.