Bucky & Steve x Reader Oneshot Series

AmeriCAN! ✒ Steve

A/N this started off as a proper oneshot hahaha
Language!
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"Damn it. I knew I should have sided with Tony during the whole Civil War argy bargy." You grumbled as you sprinted up the fiftieth flight of steps, your calves screaming in protest. Already you could feel the lactic acid building up, and you knew it would be near impossible to walk tomorrow.

"Thanks for your support, (Y/L/N), really appreciate it." Steve grunted from the other side of your comm, where you could hear the bullets bouncing uselessly off the shield before it made a crunching contact with someone's nose.

"Dick move, Steve. The face is only one step up from going for the balls." You threw a chair at some of the agents, knocking them over like skittles before the all too familiar sound of repulsors charging stopped you in your tracks. Sighing, you turned around and loaded your weapon.

"(Y/L/N). Why don't we go for a walk." Tony began, in a reasonable tone of voice.

"Your bitch ass locked me under the Atlantic, where I had sedatives forced through my veins hourly. I will not listen to you." You snapped, throwing an EMP device under his feet.

"You threw a -- shit, FRIDAY, talk to me." Tony had started off arrogant, but soon became frightened. Stalking over to him, you ripped the mask off of the suit, and pulled out a syringe of clear fluid. You saw the fear in his eyes, and couldn't help feeling just a little bit guilty.

"This is what was forced through my veins every hour. It's pretty strong stuff, and you'll feel like shit when you wake up." Before he could resist, the needle was buried in his neck, and he crumpled like paper.

"Goodnight, sleep tight, don't let the dead bite." You looked at the motionless bodies of General Ross's men with an accusing glare, before using another chair to break the window and jump.

"Sam! Need a lift!"

"Coming! Which floor?" Sam replied, circling the skies and looking for you as you free fell.

"Fortieth floor... Wait, no, thirtieth." Spotting you, Sam swooped downwards, catching you in his arms.

"Holy cow, (Y/N), you're heavy."

"Excuse you, wiotch." Your reply was snappy.

You raised your eyebrows and folded your arms, listening as the forewarning remarks came in from your team.

"Did you just..? You never make a comment about a woman's weight, dumbo." This from Wanda, who was reusing debris to create projectiles to use against the opposition.

"You're fucked, man." This from Clint, who was picking off airborne enemies from the rooftops. If you looked up, you could see him silhouetted against the sun, and you signalled for Sam to drop you off on the rooftops.

"Did you call my girl fat, Wilson?" Steve barked from the comm. You could just about picture his glare. His tone quickly changed to mildly panicky.

"I'm gonna have to jump, but I can't."

"Steven Grant Rogers, the great love of my life, are you an AmeriCAN or an AmeriCAN'T?"

"American?"

"Then get your fine ass down here. We're heading to a safe house in five minutes, stat." You quipped, descending the building.
There was an almighty clang, and Steve joined you, pulling you into a heart stopping kiss that had the others grumbling with averted eyes.

"Alright, let's hit the road, guys and gals."

"Yeah, one small issue. We're gonna need at least fifteen chimichangas to appease our new housemate. He's a bit of an ass."

"Oh no." Steve groaned. "Please not him."

"Excuse you, star spangled bitch." Came a voice from the other end of the comm, sounding very peeved. "If hermana junior had just listened, you wouldn't be running to me."

To be continued...

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(A/N)

GCSEs.

Damn GCSEs. I hate them so damn much like you wouldn't even want to know how much CA coursework I'm behind on. If stress was an Olympic sport I'd be really stressed about those gold medals I won like a fuckin' boss, yo.

Also, dedication to whoever finds the embedded HU lyric.