But I'm a Good Girl
2015
Steve never thought a mission could look like this.
A strip club dripping in lingerie, billionaires, and sex on the sunset strip, with humidity both inside and out slicking his skin with perspiration.
Missions were blood, battle, and bruised knuckles, fighting the bad guys, capturing hostages, saving lives. He wondered what went through Tony's mind to send him here in a Ralph Lauren three-piece suit, to bring some girl back to him. He imagined, despite Tony trying to keep things steady with Pepper, the girl was some fling from way-back-when. Just tying up loose ends. One last night, possibly.
From the neon lights to the alcohol and girls dressed in practically nothing but pearls and diamonds, he wondered how such a place could come to be in the world. Sure, he was used to clubs from the 30's, but those were tame, more sophisticated with dancing and a band. It could get rowdy at times, yet it was always nothing short of a good time.
As he stepped into the club, he pulled the photo Tony had given him out of the suit pocket–
"Just bring the little con artist back in one piece, alright?" Tony waved the photograph in front of his face before Steve snatched it from his hands. Tony had called him into his office, mentioning a solo mission to Las Vegas for an 'extraction'. But by the looks of it, this mission wasn't really meant to be taken that seriously. "She's been having a little too much fun and I'm not in a very generous mood to be dealing with her credit card bills right now. Kid needs to reined in."
Steve was astonished. Out of all the important things in the world to be done, this is what he was signed up for? He wondered why Natasha or Clint couldn't do this. Why did it have to be him?
He'd never seen her around before, making him glance at the picture once more. She had a sweet face (he'd give her that), looked like she could break a few hearts too with that pretty smile of hers. The picture had been taken on a beach somewhere, her high forehead glistening in the sunlight and bright, fiery hair whisked across her face. Thin, beautiful, eyes bluer than the waters behind her. Young, too.
He took a seat in a red velvet chair by the stage among at least a dozen other men dressed exactly like him, wads of cash sitting on their tables alongside the dirty martinis they'd ordered.
It was burlesque night, and from what he'd gathered, it wasn't the comedic kind of show he'd might have known back in the day.
He never understood this kind of entertainment. Well...maybe he did understand, but still, women exposing themselves like this for cash? It hardly seemed appropriate.
A hand on his shoulder drew him from his thoughts, a waitress carrying a tray of drinks with bright red lips all but soaked in lip gloss. She flashed her pearly white veneers at him and asked-
"What can I get for ya, hun?"
He stumbled with his words, "Uh, I'll just have an old-fashioned please." Shifting in his seat uncomfortably as she winked and walked away (turns out she only had an electric green lace thong under her apron), Steve caught the marquee lights beginning to sparkle on stage as the red, velvet curtain began its ascent.
The opening brass nearly blew out his eardrums, alongside the hoots and hollers of all the men who were already throwing hundred dollar bills on the stage.
Isn't too soon for that?
The curtains revealed a bright pink settee with a girl perched perfectly on top of it. Stage lights hadn't hit her yet, but the marquee gave her a pretty blush glow around her shadow. So tempting...captivating...her body was limber, curves soft. These men were already out of their seats, spilling liquor everywhere as they threw their cash.
Steve's waitress returned with his drink, setting it down on the table as she giggled at Steve fawning over the barely-recognizable girl on stage, who hadn't even moved yet.
"Lil' Connie's the best we have," she said, he couldn't barely make out the brashness of her voice over the music, "kid's been the reason we've been bringing in so much cash, don't know what we'd do without the little brat."
As she walked away again, the fluorescent yellow lights hit the stage and the girl on it. Steve nearly spit out his drink.
It was the girl in the picture.
Connie, apparently.
The lyrics of the song finally began, full, peachy pink lips mouthing the words to the song as she writhed around on that couch, her body adorned in a one-piece made purely of white pearls and nothing else.
She was angelic, sapphire blue eyes reflecting off the stage lights as she moved down stage to all the other girls, flicking her wrists and popping her hips to the music, the pearls rustling with each movement she made as money continued to rain down on her and the girls accompanying her on stage.
Steve saw her youth in the plumpness of her rosy cheeks, the way her eyes were gentle but the rest of her breathed seductress and–
He could slap himself for thinking of such things.
He pulled out a stack of hundreds Tony had given him with the suit. He suspected it would be for trip expenses or hush money. He didn't imagine it would be used as a bribe for a girl's attention.
She flounced off the stage and paraded her way to the bar, hands floating along the shoulders of thousand-dollar suits, caressing their cheeks, running a hand through their hair. The bartenders assisted her onto the counter as she continued lip syncing, strutting her red-bottomed shoes for all to see.
The closer she got to him, the more differences he could see between the photograph and reality. Her hair had been dyed brunette. Whereas she was naturally beautiful, her face was so heavily painted in make-up she could've been unrecognizable. She'd feigned innocence, but now looked like she could be featured in a centerfold.
Steve thought back to what Tony said, watching as Connie strutted about on top of the bar, smoothing her hands down her legs until she suddenly dropped to her knees.
The realization struck him and he could feel the blood leave his face.
"Kid needs to be reined in,"
"Kid's been the reason we've been bringing in so much cash,"
She's a kid.
Steve made haste to the bar, drink forgotten at his table, and nearly shoved three guys out of the way as she came to sit at the end of the bar. He whipped out the cash, a thick stack of hundreds, knowing very well it would easily draw her eyes to him.
And it did. As soon as the last word of the song had been mimed by her lips, surrounded with cheers, she all but pounced on him.
The muscles, the suit, the money.
Both her hands latched onto the lapels of his jacket, her pale blue nails like talons sinking into a piece of prey. Her eyes glimmered a sweet, bubble gum pink, and with her now in front him, he suddenly felt dizzy.
All he could see was her.
She got onto her tiptoes, purring into his ear, "Take me back to your table, will you?"
Those eyes. So blue and clear like a summer dream, boring into his.
Her nails skimmed the cash in his other hand, biting her lip in an attempt of persuasion.
It felt like the two of them. Just them.
Luring herself in, she pressed herself completely up against him as another act took the stage, everyone too distracted, or jealous, to take notice of Connie's fingers were starting to blossom with a pearlescent aura, taking Steve in under a spell as she intertwined their fingers to lead him somewhere he didn't know.
They'd suddenly arrived at his table. He doesn't remember giving her any sort of direction.
She took his knee as her seat, drawing out his chiseled cheeks with her long, delicate nails as her left hand finally coerced the money from his.
Steve never felt so powerless, he wanted to question himself but he didn't have the strength to.
The overhead lights abruptly surged into the room. The girl on stage stomped her foot in frustration as her act was interrupted. People started to fuss.
Then the entrance doors blew open. As in, the doors were blown off their hinges.
Everyone began to lose their minds, grabbing their cash and women.
Connie jumped from his lap with cash in hand, stepping one, high-heeled forward to see past the crowd.
Shaken from his stupor, Steve heard the familiar whir and clank! of a certain gold and red suit entering the club as men and strippers fled the premises.
She was going to run, he knew it before she even made the motion to scatter into the crowd.
Steve snatched her elbow in his tight grip as she furrowed her brow at him before realization set in.
"You," she said, poking her nail into his chest, "you set me up!"
Before Steve's lips could even begin to form an explanation, Tony, Iron Man suit and all, waltzed up to them amidst the chaos of spilled drinks and panic. He stepped out his armour adjusting his blazer, the typical shit-eating smirk plastered across his lips. Whatever Connie was to him, he sure loved to mess with her, it was blatantly obvious.
"Oh, Constance! I didn't even recognize you! New hair color I see, product of a CVS boxed hair dye kit?"
Constance?
Her lashes fluttered as her eyes rolled back into her head, Steve's hand still holding on tight to her.
Tony turns to him, "Good job, Cap. I've got it handled from here."
"What happened to this being a solo mission, Tony?" Steve said, appalled that he thought himself to have the gumption to show up to something that he had asked Steve to do solo, "I had things handled."
"Oh sure, wonder boy," Constance scoffed, crossing her arms uncomfortably, the situation growing more awkward by the second. "I had you wrapped around my finger up until two seconds ago."
Tony pointed a finger at her, "Not a single word out of you. The adults are talking." He turned to Steve, "I only needed you to get her attention. If I came in here she would've known who I was the second I stepped in here. Luckily, Pretty Woman here can't resist a pretty face."
She pried her arm out of Steve's grip, shoulder-checking him as she slammed the wad of cash into Tony's chest and stormed towards the exit with the latter person on her heels. Steve followed them outside, chasing for answers.
What was exactly going on here? Is there something he's missing? Something left out of the rundown Tony gave him?
"...Stark, Tony!"
Catching his attention once more as, now Constance, was being guided by Tony's head of security into a black town car, he turned fully towards him.
"What's going on here?"
"Listen, you did your job, you did good-"
As if Steve needed validation from Tony Stark, of all people.
"-that's all you need to know, alright? Good work today." He gave Steve's shoulder a pat
The Iron Man armor walked itself out of the club, taking off into the sky with its destination of New York, people were beginning to swarm around the scene.
Tony turned to him one last time. His mood changed, more apprehensive, cautious.
"No need for a mission report either. The last thing I need is our eye-patched friend breathing down my neck about this." He walked around to the driver's door, stepping inside and rolling the passenger window down, where Happy was seated, to wrap up the conversation. "There's a private jet with your name on it leaving in an hour."
The car revved, the left blinker pulsing as Tony began to turn the steering wheel to make a swift exit as paparazzi arrived on the scene.
"Peace, Rogers!"
They took off, leaving Steve flabbergasted and asking himself what the hell just happened.
Hi all!
It's been so long since I've written something for ANY fandom and I wanted to start being creative again. So here we are! Obviously, this isn't my normal forte of "Maze Runner" fanfics, but it's truly been so long I can't even remember where I was headed with any stories I wrote for that storyline. However, I wanted to try something new!
I'm planning on posting this all on Archive of Our Own once I'm finished with this story (if I make it to the finish line) and edit it before putting out the final product.
I'm also looking into getting a beta reader. I want to improve on my writing since it's, like I said, it's been a while since I've written anything besides academic essays.
Anyway, I hope you enjoy this story! Thank you for reading and feel free to leave anyways I can improv the writing/beta readers you know of.
-Broadwaykid1832