HOME | DD

Description
You groaned lowly, nursing a cup of coffee as you leaned against the kitchen counter. You shouldn’t have gone back. When you’d left, you were the perfect amount of drunk… or so you thought. You must have underestimated how strong those mixed cocktails were because by the time you got to your room the drunk you that wanted to Party with a capital P made a full appearance. You didn’t even know how you’d made it back to the event or where you had managed to procure a family sized box of Cheerios. You picked a single cheerio out of your hair now, tossing it in the sink, slowly melting to the floor. It had been entertaining though, especially when Thor pulled out some Asgardian something or other and slipped some to Cap. Things had really escalated from there.

Cradling you cup between your chest and your knees, you curled up as small as you possibly could make yourself against the cabinets and just prayed everyone else was too hungover themselves to make any sort of loud noise.

No such luck.

If you had been a cartoon character, steam would have been coming out of your ears as someone had the absolute audacity to come into the room whistling.

The cup in your hands clicked a little as your grip on it became far too tight for comfort. The Star Spangled Banner. You recognized the song instantly, scrunching your eyes shut with a growl, “Rogers, if you don’t cut the patriotic crap right this second I will… think of… some sort of creative… punishment… later.”

You could hear him chuckle as he stepped around the counter to look down at you with a grin, “Cranky this mornin’ are we, Doll?”

You shot him a glare, grumbling, “Damn you and your super metabolism.”

Stretching a little, he went to answer you just as the distinctive sound of your ringtone erupted from the direction of the couch and you groaned, “Too far.”

He rested a hand lightly on the top of your head, sympathetic, and then shifted to get it for you, “I’ll grab it for you, (F/n). Could be important.”

You closed your eyes at the contact with a small hummed, “Thank you.”

It took you a moment, a few flashes of events from the night before running through your head, before you realized the implications of what had just happened. You shot up from the floor with a small strangled noise, “Steve no!”

The super soldier gave you a perplexed look, phone already in hand, “What are you…”

He froze mid-sentence, looking over at the still illuminated screen as you scrambled to try and snatch it from his hand. Unfortunately, your coordination was shot and you weren’t quick enough. Steve easily held it out of your reach as you practically tackled him.

“I’m your lock screen?!” he questioned, far too loudly as you tried to climb up him like a tree to retrieve it with a hiss, “You weren’t supposed to see that.”

“What… are those Cheerios?! Why are there cheerios on my face?!”

“THEY AREN’T. GIMME! IT WASN’T ME!”

“You’re in the background giving a thumbs up! It’s a SELFIE!”

You froze, deer in the headlights for a moment and then blurted, “It was Tony’s idea. You passed out. We wanted to see who could stack the most cheerios on your face without them falling…”

He just sort of looked between you and the phone a few times, processing that, and then chuckled, “Did you win?”

Shuffling a little embarrassedly, you nodded, “Hustled Tony out of his watch… for a man who is drunk more often than sober, he lacks coordination.”

He lifted your chin to look at him, pressing a light kiss to your lips, “That’s, my girl.”

Description
You groaned lowly, nursing a cup of coffee as you leaned against the kitchen counter. You shouldn’t have gone back. When you’d left, you were the perfect amount of drunk… or so you thought. You must have underestimated how strong those mixed cocktails were because by the time you got to your room the drunk you that wanted to Party with a capital P made a full appearance. You didn’t even know how you’d made it back to the event or where you had managed to procure a family sized box of Cheerios. You picked a single cheerio out of your hair now, tossing it in the sink, slowly melting to the floor. It had been entertaining though, especially when Thor pulled out some Asgardian something or other and slipped some to Cap. Things had really escalated from there.

Cradling you cup between your chest and your knees, you curled up as small as you possibly could make yourself against the cabinets and just prayed everyone else was too hungover themselves to make any sort of loud noise.

No such luck.

If you had been a cartoon character, steam would have been coming out of your ears as someone had the absolute audacity to come into the room whistling.

The cup in your hands clicked a little as your grip on it became far too tight for comfort. The Star Spangled Banner. You recognized the song instantly, scrunching your eyes shut with a growl, “Rogers, if you don’t cut the patriotic crap right this second I will… think of… some sort of creative… punishment… later.”

You could hear him chuckle as he stepped around the counter to look down at you with a grin, “Cranky this mornin’ are we, Doll?”

You shot him a glare, grumbling, “Damn you and your super metabolism.”

Stretching a little, he went to answer you just as the distinctive sound of your ringtone erupted from the direction of the couch and you groaned, “Too far.”

He rested a hand lightly on the top of your head, sympathetic, and then shifted to get it for you, “I’ll grab it for you, (F/n). Could be important.”

You closed your eyes at the contact with a small hummed, “Thank you.”

It took you a moment, a few flashes of events from the night before running through your head, before you realized the implications of what had just happened. You shot up from the floor with a small strangled noise, “Steve no!”

The super soldier gave you a perplexed look, phone already in hand, “What are you…”

He froze mid-sentence, looking over at the still illuminated screen as you scrambled to try and snatch it from his hand. Unfortunately, your coordination was shot and you weren’t quick enough. Steve easily held it out of your reach as you practically tackled him.

“I’m your lock screen?!” he questioned, far too loudly as you tried to climb up him like a tree to retrieve it with a hiss, “You weren’t supposed to see that.”

“What… are those Cheerios?! Why are there cheerios on my face?!”

“THEY AREN’T. GIMME! IT WASN’T ME!”

“You’re in the background giving a thumbs up! It’s a SELFIE!”

You froze, deer in the headlights for a moment and then blurted, “It was Tony’s idea. You passed out. We wanted to see who could stack the most cheerios on your face without them falling…”

He just sort of looked between you and the phone a few times, processing that, and then chuckled, “Did you win?”

Shuffling a little embarrassedly, you nodded, “Hustled Tony out of his watch… for a man who is drunk more often than sober, he lacks coordination.”

He lifted your chin to look at him, pressing a light kiss to your lips, “That’s, my girl.”