Captain America and Bucky Barnes Imagines

38. STEVE: Run For His Money

           

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Click, clack, click, clack...

My heels, black and sleek, descend down the staircase. The tight fitted skirt of my dress hits just above my knees. The dip of the heart shaped neckline plunges deep and low between my pushed up breasts. I've curled and tousled my hair into a pretty mess that hangs over my shoulders soft and clean. I reach the bottom of the staircase knowing that I've dolled myself up as good as any of my friends have seen me. Usually I'm only to be found in baggy jeans and tight t-shirts that give me enough room to do my work in the Avenger's garage—fixing cars and planes until I'm needed to fly them out on a mission.

The very first set of eyes to register my presence belongs to the man who matters most. He's standing above the granite counter with an apple in his hand—going to take a white-toothed bite. The rosy red fruit tumbles from his grasp and smashes to the floor when he's caught sight of me.

Tony Stark, who sits typing on his tablet at the couch, wolf-whistles.

I readjust the clutch I've got in my grasp. I come to stand on the other side of the counter from Steve as he continues to helplessly gawk at me. He's not subtle in his staring.

"What—why are you dressed like that?" he stutters. His tongue pokes out of his mouth to wet his parched lips.

From his spot by the fridge, Bucky Barnes makes a show of rolling his eyes.

My heart thunders to a near standstill. "Does that mean it looks good? Or should I change?" I sway from one foot to the other before settling my weight evenly between.

Steve's head begins to quickly shake. "No! No. You look—wow, well—you look amazing." He clears his throat and struggles to find someplace to put his hands. He ends up stuffing them into his sweat pant pockets. "Are you, uh, going out?" He reaches up to scratch the back of his neck. He's grown flushed.

I smile timidly. "Yes, actually." It's almost impossible not to look over at Nat as she slinks in the shadows—watching to see if our little plan will work. She's known the Captain much longer than I, and she was the one to assure me that my feelings for him were completely reciprocated. While he's never admitted it out loud, Nat believes it won't take very much on my part to push him towards the revelation. I can only pray to God that she's right.

"With who?" Steve questions. He preoccupies himself with washing his hands, which seems strange since they appear rather clean.

I risk a glance over to Nat. She gives me a subtle nod in the darkness. I clear my throat then tell him, "A man I met online."

Steve stiffens. "Online? Like, the internet?"

I nod. "That would be the place," I chuckle lightly.

Steve's blue eyes dart all over the room—maybe looking for someone to help protest. "Y/N, I don't think that's a good idea."

I take a step closer, cursing the counter as it stands between us. "Why's that?" My voice rises hopefully.

Steve stares dazedly at my face for a moment; jaw slightly slack, before he breaks the gesture. "You're too trusting of people; Y/N. Men on those dating apps are looking for gullible girls like you to prey on. He probably just wants to screw you over one way or another. I just don't want you to get hurt."

I grit my teeth, becoming more and more annoyed by the second.

I hear Bucky grunt, "Oh Jesus Christ," before snatching a snack and leaving.

"So you don't think it's at all possible for me to have met someone who genuinely wants to spend time with me?" I can't help that my voice suddenly sounds so defensive. Why is he being so damn difficult? All I want is for him to admit that he loves me.

Maybe Nat's wrong.

"Do you really think I'm that naïve?"

"Y/N, that's not what I meant."

I don't really care to hear it. I gather up my clutch and keys then turn to head for the elevator. I make sure to grab my pea-coat on the way to fight the chill outside.

I smack the Lobby button once inside the lift. I wipe the undersides of my eyes, feeling the mascara is slightly damp, and curse the modern beauty standards that have forced me into this tight dress and unbearable shoes. I stare to the ceiling.

When the elevator doors open, I really don't expect to see a winded Steve Rogers standing in front of them—waiting for me. He's heaving heavily from the recent jog.

"Steve? What the hell?" I narrow my eyes at him. "Did you just run down twelve flights of stairs?"

Steve doesn't immediately reply. He just ushers me out of his way so that he can join me in the elevator. When someone tries to step aboard with us, he says, "Sorry, sir, this one's taken." And then clicks the CLOSE button. The man with the mustache glares at him until all that can be seen is a sheet of metal where he once stood.

I cross my arms when I find I don't know what else to do with them. "What are you doing, Steve?" I look to my wristwatch. "I'm going to be late."

Steve's head gives a firm shake. "I don't care." I raise an eyebrow as he steps closer. "I don't want you to go, Y/N."

"I'm a grown woman, Steve. I can take care of myself." But I don't sound so sure as he's stepped impossibly close and my voice becomes hoarse.

Steve closes in—I've sunk to the corner. He's got an arm on either side of my head. "It's not about that." He hesitates. His pretty blue eyes dart away from mine to reach the sight of my lips. "I can't let you go out with another man until I've told you how much I love you." Those baby blues rise—glittering as they meet my gaze. "And Y/N, believe me when I tell you that it's a lot: I love you so much. And although it'll kill me knowing you're out with someone else, I'll happily let you leave if that's what you want. But I just needed to tell you now before you left; so that you'd know, and I'd know that I did everything I could."

A huge, giddy grin spreads across my lips. I nearly squeal as I bring my hands to Steve's jaw. I tilt my face and our lips perfectly collide. He's a tad surprised at first, then kissing me back twice as intently. His hands grip my waist above the tight fabric of my dress.

I pull away, dazed and perfectly at ease. "Took you long enough, Rogers." I kiss the corner of his mouth while he laughs.

"So that means...?"

I want to roll my eyes at his stupidity sometimes. "I love you too, Steve."

He grins like a silly little schoolboy. When he kisses me again it's fast and clean. I giggle against his lips.

Steve pulls back. There's a slight gnarl in his brow that I reach up to thumb away. He smiles. "What about your date?"

I grin, tucking my face into his neck where I plant the first of many intimate kisses. "I don't think he'll mind," I hum. "Especially since it's only Nat."

Steve tugs me back by my hips. "Wait-wait, your date was... Nat?"

"Hey, don't look at me like that! We had to get you to make a move somehow... and if you didn't? Well, she was willing to take me out for vodka shots."

Steve's head falls back with a laugh. "Oh Y/N." He shakes his head with a smirk. "Why do I have the feeling that you're going to give me a run for my money, doll?" There's a playful, endearing glimmer in his eyes.

I pull the Captain closer by his collar. "Because I am, darling, and there's nothing you can do about it."