(Uploaded to Tumblr on 19/11/18)
Steve Rogers x Platonic!Reader, Slight Stucky.
Words: 2427
Warnings: Swearing, drinking, mentions of sex.
Request: Anon: Hi could you do a fic with Steve Rodger where the reader is like and have the attitude of Wynonna Earp
Summary: Steve's basically your older brother that's so done with your shit.
A/N: I sware I can write. I actually quite like this, it's just not really story driven. Anon, I tried my best.
***
"Y/N! C'mon, it's morning!" Steve yelled through your door, his loud voice causing you to curl up closer to your less than half full bottle of whisky. Like it was your childhood teddy bear.
Seconds later you had drifted back to sleep, mouth open slightly, as heavy, slow breaths escaped it.
"Y/N!" Your skin separated from the rest of your body, at the loud voice right behind you, no longer outside your door. Your eyes grew wide before you peered over your shoulder at the tall man behind you. His hands were on his hips, looking down at you, his eyes full of annoyance. "Wake up," he continued slowly.
"Sadly. I am awake," you replied, steadily pushing yourself up into a sitting position.
"Well then, get up." He grabbed your bottle of whisky, the remnants sloshing around inside, as he walked towards your now open door. Ignoring your protesting whine. "I sware, sometimes you're worse than, Tony."
"I'll take that as a compliment," you replied following him into the tower's kitchen.
"You shouldn't."
"I know. He's a lightweight."
"Who's a lightweight?" Bruce asked from his spot at the breakfast counter, watching you over the top of his laptop.
"Tony."
"Only you would think that," he replied.
You shrugged at Bruce, turning back around to face Steve, reaching over to try and grab your whisky him.
"Ah ah. You'll get this back later tonight. But, for now, you're gonna sit down and eat breakfast," Steve said gesturing to Loki, who suddenly made your whisky disappear with a puff of green smoke.
"What the fuck, Loki?!" you screeched at the demi-god, whos smirk was his only response. You turned back to Steve, "And unless 'breakfast' means 'getting wasted, and blacking out in bed'. Then I'm not interested.
"No. But, there are doughnuts," Natasha spoke behind you before Steve could scold you about your life choices. Again. Natasha held a large box of assorted doughnuts. Placing them down onto the countertop.
"Well, That's good enough," you mumbled. Beginning to rummage through the box of doughnuts heaven in front of you.
"Did you," Natasha paused, "Fall asleep with your clothes on?
Doughnut in hand, you glanced down at your all-black ensemble, clad with a leather jacket, and combat boots. Facing her, you said, "Yes." Then continued to take a bite out of your powdered chocolate doughnut.
"Wow, you really are a hot mess," she regarded.
"The focus word here being 'hot'," you said walking from the kitchen, intending to get a couple more hours of shut-eye before Steve started badgering on at you again. Mumbling to yourself, "But God knows, you're not wrong."
***
"Where is it? Where is it?" you asked yourself over and over again, as you searched through the living room. Currently dismembering the cushion sears from the couch, looking for your prized pistol.
"I still can't believe you lost your gun," Steve stated as he watched you with his arms crossed over his chest.
"Hey! She's a wiley minx, that cannot be held down."
"She?" Steve asked with a raised eyebrow.
"Yes, she. And she has a name by the way."
"Which is?"
"World peace."
"Why would you name a gun that?" Steve asked bewildered.
"B'cause it's ironic."
Steve sighed pinching the bridge of his nose, finally pushing away his reluctance to help, he slowly said, "Okay, where did you last see it?"
"I don't know. If I did I wouldn't be looking for it right now, would I?" you began your rant. "I've already looked everywhere. The only places I ever go are, my bedroom, the bathroom, the bar, this here sofa, and the kitchen."
Before Steve could utter a single word about irresponsible you were, he was interrupted by Natasha as she came striding into the room, bucket of ice cream in one hand, and your black steel revolver in the other.
Steve's' face fell blank, you could practically hear his brain chanting, "Fuck my life." over and over again.
But you hadn't noticed any of this, as you were currently laying on the floor peering under the couch for your gun.
"Umm, does anyone know why Y/N's gun was in the ice cream?" Natasha asked looking between the two objects in her hands.
"What?" You popped up. Like a dog being asked if they wanted a treat. Your eyes widening with joy at the sight of your gun resting in Natasha's palm. Rushing over you grabbed it from her, cradling it to your chest. "I missed you so much!"
"Why was it in the ice cream?" Natasha asked again.
"Ah, I remember now. Late night snack."
"Y/N," Steve scolded, "Ice cream is not a good late night snack."
"Oh, don't be a hypocrite, Steve. It's not like I've never walked in on you eating hand fulls out of a five-pound bag of gummy bears at three a.m., while you were watching reruns of dance moms."
"You did what?!" Natasha shrieked happily.
"Not 'did' does," you corrected, "I caught him three days ago."
"Alright!" Steve yelled, his face was bright red from embarrassment as he pushed you towards the elevator. "We have a mission, so we have to get going now."
Natasha called after you, demanding you to tell her more as the elevator doors closed.
Well, it's gonna be fun tormenting Steve with Natasha, when you get back.
***
"-Alright, got that?" Steve asked looking back to you, after his very detailed explanation of the mission. Seeing if you had heard everything he said.
"What?" You snapped your attention to him.
"You didn't hear me?!"
"I did... partly."
"How much did you hear?" He placed his hands on his hips, which looked strange from where he sat behind the steering wheel of the SHIELD van.
"... my name."
"Your name?! Y/N, we have to start this mission in five minutes!"
"Then tell me what I have to do."
He took a deep breath, exhaling it slowly as he stared at you. "Go into the club. Apprehend the suspect, bring him back to the van, I'll be waiting around the block."
"Why didn't you just say that?"
Steve stared at you with a blank look. One that you were wholly used to from this man.
"And what are you going to do exactly?"
"I'm back up."
"Back up?! Bruce could be back up!"
"Alright," he said exasperatedly. "It's go time. Get in there."
"It's go time get in there," you mocked him, as you got out of the van. Continuing to mutter under your breath, "Sure, Y/N go into the club. You're not gonna have a drink. It's not like I took whisky away from you this morning."
"I can hear you, you know?"
You stopped just outside the door, whispering a small, "Shit." Before you pushed through the door, releasing the music inside.
"Uhh, Steve?" You looked around, noticing the surroundings. "Did you know this is a strip club?"
"What?"
"Ha, so you don't know everything. So much for all your detailed mission explanations," you said taking a seat at the bar, not that worried about people seeing you talking to yourself, them being too busy looking at the near naked ladies.
The look on Steve's face could be felt through your comms. A smirk growing on your face. "Maybe you should come in here. Have a lap dance. See a naked girl for the first time."
"Stop."
You snorted, "I'll have a whisky straight, thank you," you asked the bartender.
"You're drinking?!"
"Duh."
"You need to keep a clear head for when you apprehend the suspect."
"Blah, blah, blah. I got this."
You, in fact, did not have this.
But that wasn't your fault, that's what you would be telling Steve.
You had been patiently sitting at the bar for fifteen minutes. Quickily downing your first two glasses of whiskey. And staring deeply into your third, when a large group of men bound in for a very loud and rowdy bachelor party.
Oh, Jesus-Fucking-Christ.
You rolled your eyes turning back to your drink, presuming that they wouldn't in anyway harm your mission. Boy were you wrong. Everything had gone tits up within the next five minutes. The children men were as drunk rowdy as ever, one had punched a bouncer, another hitting a random guy in a black t-shirt, that he thought was another bouncer. Turns out that 'random guy' was one of your suspect's bodyguard's. Making you quickly jump up as a massive fight began in front of you.
Huffing, you pulled out your gun, "Crazy asshole with a gun!" you yelled firing off a few rounds. Being quick to chase down your suspect, tackling him to the ground. His bodyguards to busy, being knocked out, from the small mob that had run from the building.
See, job well done!
***
"You exposed your cover!" Fury yelled at you, as Steve watched over your shoulder, as he leaned up against the wall.
Well, maybe not 'well done'.
"He's apprehended isn't he?" you tried to defend yourself. "Mission over. Cover no longer needed."
"That is not the point."
"Then what is the point, Sir?"
"Director," Fury corrected. "And, the point is that you were reckless."
"I am reckless. That's all a part of my charm."
"Problem."
"Charm. It sounds better."
Fury sighed, gripping the bridge of his nose, and slumping down into his desk chair. "Just get out."
You were walking down the hall ten minutes later when Steve jogged up next to you.
"We've got another mission."
"Ughh," you stomped your foot childishly, flinging your head back. "But we just finished one. All I want to do is sleep."
"Well, this is our punishment, for your disobedience."
"This is not the type of punishment I like," you mumbled, "Please, just at least tell me its something good. Sparkily vampires, shit werewolves, Voldemort, fucking Bob Ross look-alikes. Something!"
"I'll tell you on the way there."
"That sounds good!" Tou trailed after him. "Is that good?!" you called the faint feeling of excitement drifting into you.
It was so not good!
***
"Listen, as much as I love being tied up on a chair. Being kidnapped and tied up on a chair, however. Is not my favourite thing."
"SHUT UP!" the HYDRA agent roared at you.
"Wow, someones cranky," you commented from your position tied up on the wooden chair. Arms strapped behind you, wrists tied together. Your legs tied to the chairs legs, and a rope ran around your waist. Making you totally immobile. "What's wrong? Did Mr Grey not get enough sleep last night?"
"Shut up, before I make you!"
You smirked at him, keeping silent.
"Do you have any Bob Ross look-alikes? Cause I really had my heart set on some Bob Ross look-alikes."
His only reply was a scream of frustration. Before a blonde man in a lab coat sauntered through the door.
"Agent Thompson," the new man regarded, "Why are you screaming in front of our guest?"
"Listen, buddy, if I were your guest, I'd be watching Golden Girls, with a glass of whisky in my hand right now."
"She's been doing that ever since she got here. She's driving me crazy."
"Don't worry, The Freedom Boy will come to rescue her soon."
"Hey, leave the Captain alone. Yes, maybe he takes away my whisky, and usually gives me his eyebrows of disappointment. But! He is a good man - Doesn't laugh at my jokes. That's on him. - But he cares, and he always does the right thing, unlike you. And I know for a fact that he is a freaky mother-fucker, who's great at sex... the walls are remarkably thin in the tower- really need to get Tony to do something about that."
"Oh, my God. Stop talking," the man that was tasked with watching you uttered, holding his face in his hands.
"And, also," you continued making them both groan. "I don't need to be rescued when I'm here on purpose. Our dear captain is busy in your bosses office stealing all of the information we need... wait..." you realised.
The men looked at each other then bolted from the room, with you calling after them.
"Wit! I didn't mean that! Comeback! Timeout! Reverse uno card! Shit."
Right at that moment, the flashing red alarms sounded, other HYDRA Agents running around. You could slightly see them through the small opening in the door. The ventilation swung open behind you, a large body falling out of it, successfully landing on the ground.
"Did you really have to tell them that?" Steve asked from behind you, as he began untying you from the chair.
"Yes. Clint teach you how to do that?" you asked nodding your head behind you to the open vent.
"I know how to do things?"
"He did didn't he?"
The silence he graced you with, was all you needed to know, making you snort at him.
"Why'd you ask him to teach you that?"
Nothing.
There was no way he was going to answer you about this subject, so you decided to annoy him about it later with Natasha and Tony by your side.
You stood up, finally free from your restraints. Robbing your rope burned wrists.
"Did you get it?"
"Yep," he said showing you the flash drive.
"Okay, so, back through the vents or guns blazing?" You pointed to the open vent, then to the open door.
"Vents," Steve said plainly.
"Aww, but I haven't had the chance to use 'world peace' yet. Shes getting rusty."
"You shot your gun last night."
"She needs to be shot at least once a day! I don't make the rules."
Steve pointed behind you. "The vents, Y/N."
You grumbled, "Fine, fine."
***
"So..." you began from where you sat next to Steve on the quinjet, riding back to the tower. "Bucky staying with you tonight?"
"Yes. Why?"
You said nothing, pulling your phone from your pocket, picking the contact you were looking for. You waited a short while, with the phone pressed up against your ear. With Steve watching you curiously.
They answered.
"Tony. I need a new room!"