Captain America and Bucky Barnes Imagines

21. STEVE: The Gala

Where reader is a superstar celebrity and this is the gown she wears. Thanks for the gif, Gossip Girl.

Words: 2.8K

Warnings: None? One or two curse words, I think. I can hardly remember smh.

The steps of the mansion are lit up by the flashes of the cameramen and paparazzi. They scramble to get the best shot of the celebrities and superheroes that will be at Tony Stark's annual charity ball. This year the proceeds will be going solely towards the Children's Miracle Network, so I'm eager to be involved. The tickets went for nearly $25,000 a piece, and I gladly donated twice as much for the cause.

The long train of my dress slithers up the staircase after me. I smile softly to the all the cameras that flash unreasonably bright. My body guard tries to block the shots, but I tell him not to worry. This dress was a gift from Chanel, I'd hate for no one to see it. I owe the designers as much as a photo on the cover of the Times.

The doors to the gala are opened when I step up. They don't even ask for ID. Being one of the most famous actresses of my generation certainly has its side effects—both good and bad.

The party has already begun. It's looks as if I'm late, yet again. I let out a sigh and then carry on. I turn slightly towards my guard in hopes he'll leave me be.

"Sorry, miss. I'm not to leave your side."

I want to roll my eyes, but I don't. He's just doing as he's been told.

A serving boy walks by with a silver tray. He offers me a tall flute of champagne which I gratefully take with a smile. He returns the gesture then hurries off once more.

The chandeliers are low and bright. They remind me of the Queen's diamonds as they shimmer overhead the full orchestra on their second set of songs. I think I recognize the tune, ready to put a name to the symphony, when someone taps on my shoulder. I turn with a grin to see the much shorter and heavily cologne-sprayed Tony Stark.

"Ms. Y/L/N," he purrs as a greeting. He takes my hand to plant a kiss to the back of it.

"Mr. Stark." I smile and gesture around the room once hand is back in my possession. "You've outdone yourself."

Tony smirks. "Don't I always?"

It's now that I realize he hasn't come to greet me alone. Standing beside him is a tall, beefy stranger. His blonde hair is flawlessly coiffed and his tux fitted to absolute perfection. His blue eyes are nearly neon in the warm ballroom lights.

"I've brought a friend for you to meet." Tony gestures to the man beside him. "Y/N, this is Captain America."

I quirk an eyebrow.

The blonde man blushes profusely. "Please, call me Steve." He shoots a warning glare to Tony before smiling back at me.

I can't help but laugh. "Pleasure to meet you, Steve." I hold my hand out towards him. He shakes it gently. His grasp is warm and tender.

Tony claps Steve on the high upper back. "Keep her company, Cap. Show her a good time if you still know how." Then he's turning to greet some more of his important guests.

The Captain is still blushing slightly. I chuckle and step a bit closer. "You don't have to babysit me, you know. As much as these guys think I need it, I'm certainly capable on my own." I point back to my bodyguard who lingers five steps behind at all times.

Steve smiles. "I know, I just thought—well, I was sort of hoping you'd like the company." He looks nervously to his feet. "I was hoping you didn't have a date."