"Y/N, you in?" Sam asked into the comms.
"Yeah," you breathed, hoping that it seemed like a sigh to the people around you.
You were in a long red gown and a beautiful hair bun. It was off the shoulders and the neckline dipped in a bit, exposing a little cleavage. The torso was covered in silver jewels, creating patterns of flowers. The gown reached the floor and had a cut on the side up until over your knee. You wore silver heels and a silver jewellery set that Bucky got you for your birthday.
"Good," came Steve's stern voice. Steve had tried to make things up to you by doing small things.
"Y/N," Steve whispered from the doorway. He felt guilty and he knew that the only way to reduce that guilt was make it up to you. "Hey."
You refused to look at him and just stared at the TV. The sitcom you were watching had long flown through your head and now you were concentrating on the thoughts in your head.
"Don't do that," Steve said softly, pushing off the door frame. "Don't get in your head."
"I don't need you to care for me," you mumbled, eyes trailing over to him. His eyes were red and puffy, just as yours were.
"You can't tell me what to do," Steve snapped, catching you off guard. "I want to care." His tone was gentle again. "I have cared since I met you, I just thought that Bucky and you..."
You stopped the words that you were about to say and started another, hoping to get rid of the growing tension.
"You can try to care, but I'm not going to promise to be cooperative." He chuckled softly and shook his head, looking down before looking back at you.
"Never thought you would be." He started to make his way to your bed and pointed at the spot beside you. You nodded and he sat down.
"What's this crap you're watching?"
You snorted and answered, "It's a show. The Fresh Prince of Bel-Air."
"What's it about?"
"I have eyes on Schulze," you mumbled into the comms. "Going to him."
"Make sure he doesn't suspect you," Steve said, speaking with firmness but a gentleness that he hadn't used on you until today.
"Breakfast?" Steve asked you.
"I usually just have coffee or tea," you answered, waving a hand dismissively. You took a seat on the island, waiting for Tony to finish making his coffee.
"Not cool. I'm gonna make you pancakes."
To say the team was shocked at your interaction was an understatement. Their eyes were wide open, compared to when they walked in sleepily, and their jaws were slacked.
"If you want," you mumbled, shrugging and putting your head down on the island.
"How dare you doubt my skills?" You teased, grinning.
"Y/N," Steve said, but it came out as a whine.
"Hello, sweetheart," Schulze greeted you, looking you up and down.
"Oh, hello." You scanned him up and down too. He leaned against the table and smiled at you seductively. You mentally rolled your eyes at how easy it was to get this man to be interested in you.
"What is a woman like you doing all alone?"
Steve would never admit it to you but the man's voice was enough to get his blood boiling.
"Is this good, Nat?" You stepped out of your bathroom, looking down at your gown.
Had you looked up, you would've seen Steve's jaw clench and blush rise to his cheeks. His eyes widened as you fixed the strap of your shoe, leg exposed. He had never seen your body so exposed. During training, you always had a t-shirt and leggings on. Sure he had seen you once or twice with shorts on in the summer, but this was completely different.
"Oh. Hey Steve." Your voice snapped him out of his trance as he fixed his composure. "So Nat?" You put your hands on your hip as she smirked.
"You got the Captain to stare, I think you're looking beyond beautiful." Natasha laughed as the two of you heated up.
"Waiting for someone like you to notice me," you flirted, batting your eyelashes. He chuckled and waved at the man he was talking to.
"Come here, darling," he said, accent thick. "Tell me about yourself."
You introduced yourself as Lily, the name you and team decided on. You said that you were a doctor and came here working for a refugee camp. He seemed to believe the story, still entranced by the exposed skin of yours.
"Want to get out of here? Maybe have some fun at my place?" He winked at you and you forced yourself not to shiver or cringe.
Instead you smiled seductively and said, "I don't seem to have any other plans."
"We're tracking your coordinates," Steve's anger strained voice echoed through your ears. The tracker was fit into one of the bracelets you wore.
You wanted to ask why Steve was angry, but Schulze had his arm around your shoulders, leading you through the crowd, so you couldn't.
Soon you found yourself at Schulze's apartment, kissing him greedily. You did everything trying not to puke as his hands roamed your body. He pulled away from you and saw the smirk you wore. You led him to a chair and straddled his lap.
You wrapped your hands around his neck and pressed the button on your bracelet to alert the team that you were in his apartment.
No more than a few minutes later, the shots of gunfire broke his lips from yours. His eyes darted around before his brain finally found out what happened.
"You bitch!" He yelled as you got off his lap and pulled out the gun from your holster. You pointed it at him, silently daring him to move. "You think that I'm alone, don't you? You think that I'm not smart enough to have people around here? Come in boys!"
As soon as his words tumbled out of his mouth, men kicked open the front door and you kept your gun on Schulze.
"Don't come further," you said, stepping behind Schulze, "or I'll blow his brains out."
"My dear, I'll have my brains blown out if yours aren't first," Schulze sneered before a shot made your gun fall to the ground. Another made you fall to the ground. The men and Schulze left the apartment, leaving you in a pool of your blood. A few minutes later, your vision went black.
———
"Sam, where's Y/N?" Steve yelled into the comms again. His heart was beating faster with each second that passed without your voice in his head. "Sam!"
"She's still not answering!" Sam's voice was strained as though he was fending for himself, which he probably was.
"What?!" Bucky's panic struck voice came through.
Now Steve's heart dropped to his stomach. His eyes gazed over to the building you were in. Before he knew what he was doing, he was already in Schulze's apartment. His eyes darted to your limp body.
He screamed your name, tears pricking at his eyes. He knelt beside you, holding your cold body close to him. One of his hands cradled your head as the other clutched the wound on your stomach. You were deadly pale and red stained.
His bloodied hand came to your wrist, trying to find a pulse.
"Steve! Do you have Y/N? Is she okay?" A few voices echoed into his ear asking about you.
"She—I have her, but she's wounded. A bullet and she's pale. A weak pulse," Steve tried to explain as he breathed out shakily. "I need to—I need to get her to the Quinjet. She's dying."
Steve picked you up and ran out the building faster than he had in his whole life.
"Steve," your weak and raspy voice came. He looked down and saw your eyes open a friction. "I love you. Don't forget me."
"You aren't dying. Not on my watch. I love you too much," he whispered, voice cracking.
———
Steve fixed the black tie again.
"You can't tie a tie properly?"
Steve's eyes flickered over to the photo he had of you on the night table beside his bed.
"Can you stop taking pictures of me?"
His lips parted as he drank in the image of you smiling sweetly at the camera.
"Shut up and take the damn picture."
His tears welled up, blurring his vision.
"You're not gonna be happy. Not without my special brownies."
His lips curled into a soft smile, thinking about you the way your eyes would narrow at him.
"You're lucky you're the Captain."
His eyes lit up as he saw the birthday card you had given him, sitting beside the picture.
"Happy birthday to the dumbest person I know."
"Thinking about me again?" His head whipped towards the doorway where you stood with a smirk. He grinned at you and nodded.
"Yeah," he answered. "When do I not?" You giggled at his response.
"Such a charmer, Mr Rogers," you teased as you wrapped your arms around his neck.
"Only for you, Mrs Rogers."
———
Posted on Tumblr first.
The thing about this is that the ending was supposed to sad, like you died. But the twist fit me better.
You want it, you got it. Requests are still open, so don't bother asking me if I can write your imagination. I will.
Until next time!