Steve Rogers Imagines

Stop talking about love for a minute and help me with this bullet wound.

Steve is a romantic, of course he is, his to-die-for smile and perfect golden hair make it obvious, but he can never seem to be romantic at the right time.

We were running down a long, shadow filled corridor, gun shot sounds echoing of the metal interior. Steve was in front of me, his long super soldier legs making it difficult for me to catch up. The HYDRA agents weren't making our escape easy and their spray of gun shots were becoming harder to dodge.

A searing pain shot up through my leg and ran through my side, I groaned in pain as I fell to the floor.

"Y/N?" Steve shouted once he noticed my boots were no longer making sound behind him.

"Hi, yeah, down here..." I said, raising my hand and smiling sympathetically. It was a little embarrassing, I mean, I'm a level 7 SHIELD agent... I shouldn't be getting shot.

Attaching his shield to his back, he hoisted me up and I bit my lip in pain as my leg brushed his body. I was becoming paler by the second and the blood didn't seem to want to stop any time soon. Steve ran as fast as he could onto the quinjet and set me down on one of the seats next to Nat.

"What the hell happened, Y/N?" Clint called from the front of the jet.

"Well I'm pretty sure I got shot. " I said sarcastically. My leg was hurting a lot now.

"I should of been behind you. You were out in the open. I love you too much to see you hurt, Y/N. I'm so sorry." Steve said quietly, regret evident in his voice. I felt bad, it wasn't Steve's fault.

"I love you too babe, but can you stop talking about love for a minute and help me with this bullet wound, I appear to be losing quite a lot of blood..."

Nat and Clint attempted to hold in their laughter which resulted in some involuntary snorts, Steve's face burned red as he gathered supplies.