A/N) Hi y'all! This was requested by at least three different people, so of course I had to get on it as soon as possible! So here it is: Yes Ma'am Part 2! Hope you all like it!
Oh, and thank you to SummerLoveMoments for this specific request! Really great idea, by the way! I hope it's what you were wanting to see! Lots of love :)
Thanks for reading,
Winnie
Words: 2.6K
The end of the workday can't come fast enough. Soon you're scrambling to collect your things and get out of the office and back to your apartment. For the first time ever you wish you didn't live here: wishing instead you dwelled some place far, far away from Steve Rogers and your embarrassing conversation earlier.
You hurry to your room to avoid any human interaction on your way upstairs. The only person who acknowledges you though is the one calling your cell phone. You consider ignoring the call before picking up on the slightly different jingle that alerts you of Stark.
"What?" you snap into the line. The other people on the elevator, mainly trainees and scientists, glance at you curiously.
"Jesus, who peed in your Cheerios?"
"You did, actually. You and everyone else at that fucking meeting yesterday," you reply impatiently.
"What...? Oh... so you got the message?" The smirk is tangible on Tony's tone.
"Of course I did!" you yelp. Again, everyone's staring at you. Growing annoyed at your lack of privacy you hop off of the lift at the next floor. Nowhere close to your apartment you wander aimlessly around the medical bay. "I got the stupid message and I took your stupid advice, too."
"So you asked the old grump out?" Tony eagerly badgers.
"Yeah, and he turned me down. A total royal flush—all my hopes and dreams are down the drain."
"I'm going to ignore your melodramatic comments because I know you get those from me and it's my fault you've become a drama queen, so beyond that I'm gonna say what the fuck? He turned you down?"
"Pathetic, right? Thanks for making me look like the idiot this time, Stark."
"Hold on, hold on. There should've been no reason for him not to say yes. He even admitted his feelings—"
"After you pressured him in front of a bunch of people! It was probably just him being uncomfortable that made him say those things. You know how he gets in those types of situations. I've had to clean them up with the press too many times before." You pause in your meaningless walk to peer into the open glass viewing window of a science lab. Bruce Banner is in there messing with some sort of chemicals in a tight white coat. He doesn't notice you, nor do any of his assistants.
"Listen, Y/N, I'm telling you the truth here when I say that Cap really does have the hots for you. He's probably just being a pussy."
"That's disgusting, and exactly the type of language that you need to stop using before our next interview scandal."
Tony sighs, "Can you hop out of working mode for just one minute? Take my word as a friend, Y/N."
"We're friends?" you tease.
"Of course we are. Why the hell else would I keep you around? It's not for the coffee—you make shit coffee in the break room," Tony mocks you.
"I thought it was for the attractive company." A smile threatens to tug up your lip.
"If that was the case I would've gotten rid of Banner a long time ago." He chuckles and you follow suit. "Seriously though; we need to figure out what's going on with Cap."
"There's nothing to be "figured out". It is what it is, Tony. I ruined our friendly relationship because you had some stupid hunch with Barnes and Nat and that's just how it's going to be now."
"Don't take that pessimistic tone with me, Y/N." You want to roll your eyes at your childish boss but he goes on; unaware of your annoyance, or simply not bothered. "Give me a few hours to figure it out. I'll get back to you." Then, before you can protest, the line goes dead.
"Dumbass," you breathe into the quiet phone. Then you're shoving your Stark smartphone back into your purse and hitching a ride to your place: hoping this time, for real, you don't run into anyone you know: especially the captain.
God—how naiive you had been! Thinking that America's sweetheart could ever be sweet on you. Sometimes you swear that you're that same fangirl that daydreamed about Captain America swooping down from the rafters of your high school gym—picking you up and carrying you away. Now, older and questionably more mature, those thoughts of running away with the man in slate blue keep you awake at night.
Now, instead of fantasies, embarrassment plagues your mind while you toss and turn between the sheets. You've thought to maybe lie down for a quick nap before having to fix dinner, but sleep evades you. Probably for the best though, as Tony starts calling your cell. You ignore it before hearing it start up again.
"What?"
"What's with you and not saying hello?" you hear Tony grunt. "You should sound happier to hear from me. I figured out what we need to do."
"What we need to do? I thought you were going to find out why Steve turned me down? Not a plan of action, idiot," you sigh tiredly. Wiping your hair away from your face you pull yourself out of bed.
"I couldn't just go up to him and ask him. He'd never tell me the honest truth. So that brings me to our plan of action, as you put it."
"Tony, I'm too busy for any of your charades—"
"Busy sulking? Don't bullshit me, kid, I know your schedule. You work for me, remember? You have a three day weekend."
"Doesn't mean I wanna gallivant around with you," you reply in a huff.
"Hear me out," Tony tries to reason, "I came up with a genius way to make Rogers admit his feelings for you."
You hesitate in asking for more information. A Tony Stark plan always means one of two things: accidental wide-spread chaos, or a rare but welcomed resolution. It's all or nothing with this guy.
"Fine," you sigh exasperatedly. "Give it to me, Stark."
"I'm going to take you out on a date," is Tony's steadfast reply.
"What the fu..."
"Listen, listen, listen," Tony pressures. "You read those transcripts from yesterday, but you should've seen how flustered old Cap got when I talked about taking you out myself. His face was as red as that damn shield and his hands made up to punch me. Taking you out on a date, where Cap knows it's going down, is a sure as hell way to get him to step up and grow a pair."
"That's the most ridiculous thing I've ever heard."
"Oh, I agree," Tony chuckles. "Because you're totally not my type."
Your eyebrows gnarl. "I'll try not to take offense to that," you comment.
"Don't get those panties of yours twisted, darlin'. Just find something sexy to wear when I take you out for dinner tonight. Seven o'clock—I'll meet you in the lobby. I'll start working on a way to get the bottle Cap down there in order to see us leave. Don't be late, doll face."
Then he hangs up.
Setting down the phone you catch a glimpse of yourself in the full body mirror. Stark didn't give you any room to argue on purpose. Now it seems you have no choice but to go through with this dumb plan...
Sighing, you turn around to start raiding your closet in search of what you're going to wear.
The fated hour of seven p.m. quickly rolls around. Four hours ago you'd been struggling on finding something suitable enough to wear on this godforsaken dinner, now you're fixed up with hairspray and eyeliner in the lobby. The skin tight, black slit dress you wear is the one you had reserved for the Met Gala this year where you'll be tailing behind the team to make sure they don't do anything stupid in front of the cameras. You suppose you'll have to either have it dry cleaned or replaced before then, because right now you're sweating from nerves so badly that the fabric is nearly soaked through. Luckily the matte makeup you've patted on your face is hiding the moisture well. Your eyes are made up and lips a dark, deep blood red shade of silky Estee Lauder lipstick. You've even gone as far as to put on perfume and high heels—fitting Tony's instructions perfectly.
All you can do now is wait.
"Oh hey, Y/N!"
You turn your head to the side. Coming out of the elevator is the infamous Winter Soldier. He grins widely, winking subtly, upon seeing you. Trailing just to his side is Steve Rogers, whom you haven't spoken to since the embarrassing call this afternoon.
"What're you goin' all dolled up and smelling pretty?" Bucky asks. If the wink in his eye just before said anything, it says he knows what's going on with you and Stark. This must've been Tony's idea of a way to get Steve downstairs. Who knew that the Winter Soldier and Iron Man would actually work together on something for once? The hateful duo might actually have a common goal, for once; making you and Steve out to be idiots, it seems.
"Uh, a date." You'd think talking to the press would make you a better liar. The only way you can choke out this one though is by reminding yourself that it's not exactly a lie: it might be staged, but it still could count as a date.
You've been avoiding looking up at Steve. Finally though you succumb to the desire and glance at his face. He's avoiding looking at you, too. His hands are stuffed in his jacket pockets and his jaw is set firm. But at the mention of the date he's glanced over curiously—taking in your appearance with a gulp before moving his eyes back to the ceiling.
"Who's the lucky guy?" Bucky prompts you. Damn, he's good at this.
"Actually," you chuckle nervously. You tuck a strand of hair behind your ear. "Umm, Tony asked me out... so..."
"Stark?!" Steve barks. You have to bite down on your tongue to keep from grinning. So THIS was the sight Tony was describing earlier. The jealously is so apparent you can nearly smell it. It's coming off of Steve in waves. His eyes are narrowed on your face now, looking especially peeved, and his arms move to cross defiantly at his puffed up chest. He cocks a brow expectantly. "You're letting Stark take you out?"
"Yes, actually I am." Steve's challenging posture and tone egg you on, and his obvious interest in you gives you the confidence to push this further. "He's a real gentleman."
Steve scoffs. Bucky wipes his hand across his mouth to hide the amused smirk. "Oh, please. Stark's anything but a gentleman, Y/N."
You shrug. "Well, maybe not the perfect gentleman. But I have to appreciate a man who goes after what he wants, and—I suppose this is the most important part—admits his feelings."
Steve, who is anything but dumb, seems to suddenly catch on. His eyes widen and his arms drop to his sides as he glances between you and Bucky repeatedly. "Are you two serious right now?" He glares at his friend. "Go on a jog, my ass. You just wanted me down here to see this," he gestures towards you and the risqué dress.
Bucky shrugs. He knows you've been caught and decides not to fight it.
Steve scoffs. "I cannot believe this..." he turns and starts striding out of the room. He heads for the front door that leads to the darkened outside.
"Steve—wait," you try calling out for him. He just hurries in his leaving.
Picking up the ends of your dress you start jogging after him. It takes you a few moments to catch up, and when you finally do it's outside under the cloudy nighttime sky. The sun has just set and the air has a distinct autumn chill.
"Where are you going?" you question Steve as he keeps brisk-walking down the driveway.
"Anywhere where I don't have to be around to see you leave on Tony's arm," Steve grunts distastefully.
Out of breath you snatch Steve by the elbow. You tug him to a stop beside you on the gravel. You stumble a bit and grunt but manage to right yourself.
"If it bothers you so much then why didn't you want to take me out yourself?" you question.
Steve's hardened blue eyes move across your face before he forces himself to make contact with yours. "It's complicated, Y/N."
"How?"
Steve sighs, "You know how, Y/N. You've been here long enough to know that none of this is easy." He crosses his arms again and you mirror the action, mainly to help yourself from catching a chill. "Nothing ever works out the way we want it to."
"Maybe because you're too stubborn," you challenge.
"No, that's not—that's not what I mean," Steve argues.
"Then what do you mean, Steve?" You take a step closer to his tall, broad body and watch as his posture stiffens unsurely. "Are you saying that you can't have what you want because you're Captain America?"
"I..." Steve's sentence falters. His eyes have dropped to your crimson lips. "I don't know," he quietly admits.
"Well, I'll tell you what I know," you begin softly. "I think that maybe you're right. Captain America can't have everything he wants. He's got a big job to do." Steve's eyes jump up to yours with a bit of panic residing in the ocean blue. "But I also know that I outgrew my Captain America crush a long time ago. It's been replaced with feelings for this giggly, blond dork named Steve."
Steve chuckles breathily. "Y/N, I..."
"And he's kind of a loser, you know. Because I asked him out but he turned me down and had me sulking around all day long—pining after him."
Steve lets out a long breath. "I'm sorry about that."
"You should be," you laugh lightly. You somber up and add, "But I understand. If you don't want to mix business with pleasure, or if you really don't feel that way about me: I understand completely."
In in this moment that Steve seems to make a decision. And the choice that he makes prompts him to reach out with his warm hands for both sides of your face. Pulling you into him his lips brush yours: a whisper of a kiss that leaves your hairs standing on end and your breath hitching with surprise. There's hardly more than this ghosting touch before Steve pulls back and whispers, "Are you still going on that date with Tony?" He cocks an eyebrow playfully.
A smile pulls at your face. Giggling lightly, you reply, "No, sir."
Playfully a soft sort of smirk appears on Steve's pink lips, now smudged with just the lightest tracing of your cherry red lipstick. "Good. Because I'd like to take you out myself."
"Really?" you laugh a bit. "Is Steve Rogers finally admitting that he likes me?"
Steve, slinking a hand to the small of your back, slowly starts to bring you closer until yet again his lips are just ghosting over yours. "Yes, ma'am, I am." And then—finally— he kisses you.