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sif-the-tsunami · 3 years ago

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Ok prompt! Sy is teaching you how to cook and maybe things get frisky ? 😁

Oooo I like this. Its not 100% on the nose but this is where the muse took me.

Did you want a novel? Because, I hope you like novels.

Warnings: chili with beans, sweet cornbread, swearing, smut

"Listen hear, you chicken fried fuck. If you don't like my cooking, you are welcome to eat something else at the damn pot luck!" I snap at a grumpy retired soldier who was talking trash about my chili recipe. Like always. Whenever we have a party, he has to say something about how I'm dressed, what I brought, or the beer I was drinking.

"All I'm saying here, California, is that where I'm from we don't put beans in our chili. And don't get me started on this abomination you call cornbread. Why is it sweet, why are there vegetables in my bread?" He says in his drawl.

"Because honey and roasted jalapenos taste good together!"

"I guess. You don't need to fuss so much Princess, I'll gladly show you how to make real Texan food. Make some wife material out of you." He smirked. I think he knew he was getting under my skin.

"Come on, Sy, give her a break. Take a bite of her cornbread with the chili, they are delicious together." One of our mutual friends told him when he could see that I was not having any more of his attitude.

I walked away from the conversation, feeling incredibly salty. The man was Syverson, we had been in the same group of friends for the past couple years and honestly he was usually at least cordial with me, but the sheer audacity of his tone today. The rest of the party was really fun, at least. Occasionally, I would catch eyes the color of the ocean after a storm staring me down. He kept looking like he wanted to say something to me but I would find reasons to leave the room. Fortunately there was always a way to get out and around.

Towards the end of the evening, I go outside to enjoy the cooling air and watch the stars, listen to a couple of the guys from inside sit on the tailgate of a truck and talk about football or something. The breeze would kick up occasionally and I could smell an orange tree blooming in the distance.

"Hey, oh shit, I didn't mean to startle you." I jumped damn near out of my skin when the grump showed up out of nowhere. "I actually really wanted to say that I'm sorry, I can be a real asshole sometimes. You are usually more aware of it than others. I'm used to giving people a hard time. Your food was delicious. I just don't know how to talk to you sometimes."

I looked at the large man skeptically. I'm not used to people going from snarky to nice to me. "Thank you for apologizing. Glad you liked it, Chicken Fried. You can just talk to me like anyone else, I don't mind some teasing, but you just know how to push my buttons."

Sy looked at his feet for a moment. "I will be nicer to you, I promise."

"I'm sure." I had heard that before.

"I still think mines better," back to sounding arrogant already, "I am willing to bet that it would blow your mind."

"Do you really want to bet?"

"Yeah... sure. I'll bet you. If my chili it better than yours.... you have to go on a date with me."

"Is that how you get most of your dates these days? Tinder just isn't cutting it anymore?" I tease. He is actually kind of good looking. Sort of. If you are into that hand crafted by the gods kind of look. I'm not saying I am, but I could get the appeal.

"You'd be surprised. Most of the women I meet want to figure out what's wrong with me. Almost 40, never married, I have a job I like. They keep waiting for my skeletons to come out of the closet. Like shit, girl, I just don't like olives or sweet relish. I think I'm pretty cool otherwise." He said talking with his hands out stretched. I think he might have been being earnest with me, but his tone is almost always sarcastic.

"You were in the military, right?"

"Yeah."

"That's what's wrong with you." The big man started laughing harder than I thought he would.

"Well, California. You up for it?"

"I don't know Chicken Fried, I don't like dating, I would really just like something casual, low maintenance. What happens when I win?"

"When?" He chuckles. "If you are looking for something casual and low maintenance, baby, there is a reason when I was still in the Army they called me Captain Cunnilingus."

"It sounds like either way you win." I smirk, "I would need a real incentive to try to beat you."

"How about bragging rights?"

"If I win... you shave your beard. Then I get to use your face as a chair." He looked shocked.

"Fine, when I win, you have to wear a dress on our date, and heels. Maybe even some of that shit you all put on your lips with the glitter and fruity flavors."

"Ok, now that's unreasonable. I don't even own heels."

"I'll buy you some." Well color me impressed. We decide on the terms of the bet. We would invite a couple of friends over to his place next Sunday and they would pick a winner with a blind taste test. We would also have one canned chili and one restaurant chili to make it a little more interesting.

Sunday came, and we all gathered in his house. This was the best batch of chili I have ever made. Fresh peppers, bacon, beer and some good quality beef all swam together in a symphony of flavors. When I walked into his house, the smell was... pungent. I could smell cooking vinegar. It wasn't bad but there was something just a little off putting.

"Glad you showed up, Princess." He looked me up and down. to surprise him just a little, I did show up in a dress. I figured a special occasion needed a special outfit.

I looked over at the big man as he took my slow cooker from my hands and plugged it in for me. To be fair to both of us, we had enough time to set up sides and toppings. I even baked more cornbread. Sy made his own savory cornbread that he pulled out of the oven in a cast iron skillet.

"It was my mama's." He told me when I asked about it.

"You bake also?"

"Sometimes, if the mood hits me. I like making peach cobbler too. If you are lucky, I'll make you some. Maybe after our date."

"So sure of yourself, Chicken Fried. I hope you got some good shaving cream and a new razor, you'll need it." In his kitchen, I lifted the hem of my sundress clear up to my naked hip showing him that I was ready to win this bet of ours. His pupils blew out with lust as he stepped up to me.

"Princess, you are a hell of a tease. I have wanted you so badly ever since the first time we met." He breathed, lusty and hot. He pinned me to the counter, radiating his desire. He bit his lip, looking me up and down, he looked like he wanted to kiss me or maybe consume me whole. Suddenly he pulls away, leaving me breathless. "We will have company soon. I need to walk this off, but I really do want to continue this conversation when we don't have to risk being interrupted."

Before anyone could walk in on us, Syverson rushed up to me and kissed me more passionately. My knees buckle for a second and its like I've been set on fire.

When our friends came into his house, he set up bowls, spoons, Fritos and cheese. He set up blind tastings for the guests, only he and I knew what everyone was eating.

The canned chili was a flop. The restaurant chili was a better batch but it wasn't as good. When our friends tasted my chili, they all keep saying how wonderful it was.

Then we tried Sy's. Everyone was quiet for a moment and then the group started to try to figure out what it was about the chili that we didn't like. It was too sweet as far as I was concerned and there was a weird aftertaste. It was an overwhelming agreement that Sy's chili was terrible. After we cleaned up his kitchen, Sy was pouting about having lost.

"So, when would you like for me to shave my beard?"

"Maybe later tonight. I think we have to finish that conversation we started earlier."

"Oh yeah, California?" He said, standing close to me. He grabbed me by my hips and lifted me to the counter top. I lace my fingers through his beard hair and pull him closer so I can finally kiss him again. He broke away from the kiss and then started nibbling on my neck. His hand found the seem of my dress and he slid his hand up my thigh. When my skirt was pushed up to my hips exposing my sex to him, he leaned me back. I watched him look at my core and lick his lips like a man starved.

"Wait a second. Before you start, what was going on with your chili? Did you throw the bet?"

"No, not at all." He looked at me confused. "I don't know what happened, I've made this a bunch of times and its always been good. This was terrible."

"Did you do anything different?"

"Well. I was out of tomato paste, so I used ketchup. A buddy of mine suggested it."

"Oh my god, Sy. No wonder! Thank god you are pretty, my guy." I tease.

"Your guy? I like the way that sounds. Now lean back, Princess. I'm going to try to convince you to let me not shave."

#henry cavill fanfic #my apologies to henry cavill #henry cavill #henry cavill smut #asks answered #captain syverson #captain sy x reader

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mysticgoblinwriter · 4 years ago

Text

Driving In A Cold Sweat; There Is No One On This Highway

Warnings- Murder, infidelity, swearing, food imagery, shitty parents, i made Steve the villain who’s in the HOA and a politician, adult content, dark!reader, cheating, a bit of flirting, mental health joke (mental health is NOT a joke, y’all), religion symbolism, dark!steve, peggy x bucky,

Word Count- 1.9k

kudos to @blackberrybucky for being my soundboard, and @fandomsandxfiles for being my beta reader. Love y'all

a/n- This is inspired by Hypothermic by Goodnight Texas. Its really dark, and I surprised myself writing this but I like it. I also changed the landscape to desert. Leave comments if you want! As many as you like, I fangirl over my work too. All writers should, its selfcare.

IF YOU WANT SOMETHING FLUFFY AND SOFT TURN AWAY NOW; MINORS DNI

DO NOT COPY OR REPOST ANYWHERE. A REBLOG IS APPRECIATED. A REPOST IS NOT.

Bucky looks you up and down, taking you in like you are the gods own ambrosia. “So, doll. What brings you to this shit hole?”

You laugh to yourself. “I murdered somebody.”- was the sentence that also inspired this but its not in the actual story.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

The radio gave out miles ago. It was emitting nothing except for crackling and static. Every now and then it would cut back to a sermon, funnily enough it’d been the same one that was on when you started your trip. Sunset was a little ways off. If you looked hard enough you could see coyotes just off the asphalt. Alive, yes. But just how long had their souls been gone? Someone was screaming.

A man. You’d heard that scream before. Seared into you memory like that steak you had for your 15th birthday. It was right next to you. Oozing blood and raw-red. You could hear the clink of the knife as it scraped against the plate. Shaking your head to clear it, you notice an exit with a gas station. “Now’s a time as good as any to stop.” Gravel crunches as you slide up next to the pump. The neon beer lights from the bar across the road are calling. But you can’t answer. The gas handle is slick and grimy, you’ve felt something like that before, but you can’t remember what. A fuzzy noise in the back of your ears gets your attention. Another truck has pulled in. Right in the spot next to yours, never mind the dozen others that are free. A bulky man steps down, his face hidden by a rangers hat.

You could tell he worked out though. And had hair in need of a washing. Clunk. The tank was full. You thought it best to leave before anyone could place you, but your stomach needed something other than greasy two-bit fast food. You glance around, looking for any sign that promised a hot meal.

“Looking for something, doll?” You let out a small gasp. He was staring straight at you now.

“Does this shithole have a place to eat? I might have to start eating the cactus.”

He lets out a soft laugh, “Yeah, there’s a diner about half mile down the road.”

His face brightens like he just thought of something. “You wanna meet me there? I’ll buy dinner?” You weigh the options. You can’t have anybody recognize you; but your cash is getting low and however you can stretch it, you must. You nod once. “Sure.”

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

The diner is every trope you’d seen in the movies your pops watched when he got off work. Flies buzzing, neon sign flickering, checkered tile. It even had the shiny red leather booths. What a dream. “Getcha a seat anywhere, honey. I’ll be right over,” came a perky voice from the back. Presumably a waitress. You choose the booth near the back exit. Its always good to have a backup plan.

The man said he needed to get something at the mini-mart, that you could go ahead and he’d catch up. Somebody screamed right next to you, causing you to jump out of your seat. You whip your head around. No one was even in the dining area. It sounded so real. Like you could reach out and grasp the shattering inky blackness. You take a couple of deep breaths. Try to remember your happy place. Tahiti, its a magical place. Or so you’ve been told You just picked it from a magazine that was open on the coffee table the night your mother set fire to the curtains in the living room. The flames had licked up the page, burning the island resort into ash. Boots thudded as they made way to where you were. He slides in across from you.

“Um, the waitress’ll be right out,” you said softly. He barely heard it over the rickety air conditioning. He nods to show he heard. He’s sitting close. Closer than you’d thought another human would ever sit next to you again. His hands are rough and calloused. The sleeve cuffs of his hoodie are frayed; as if someone clawed at them. Eyes traveling up his body, you take in more details. The hoodie isn’t faded, its brand new. He wears a bracelet of leather on his right hand, with a charm you can’t quite see. His necklace is corded hemp, plain and understated.

A light stubble that’s maybe three days old covers his jaw. His eyes... are piercing right through you. You take in a quick breath, not being able to look away. You’d never seen that shade of blue before. He’d been watching you watching him. Quirking an eyebrow, ”See anything ya like, doll?” You start to sputter an answer but the waitress comes over. “Sorry about the wait. Here’s your-” Blue eyes interrupts her, “We don’t need those. I’ll have the special and she’ll have the ‘Its Impossible To Go Away Hungry’ plate” “Okay, then. I’ll get that right out to ya folks.”

You glare at him, he mirrors it with dicky nonchalance. “Why did you order for me?” He leans forward, tilts his head the right the tiniest fraction. “You’re starved. I really don’t give a damn what kept you from eating but I ain’t gonna let you go without giving you a meal. The steak plate is the biggest meal they have. You can take a to go box, that is if you don’t eat the whole thing.”

“Oh.” You cast out a huff, “Well, thank you.” He flashes a killer smile. Pearly white teeth in a straight line. Not an imperfection to be found anywhere. A silence falls between the two of you. You can’t decide whether its comfortable of not.

“My name is Bucky. I thought you wouldn’t like eating with a stranger. I like to doodle in the margins of my books sometimes.” “Please tell me not library books.” He scoffs as if you suggested the impossible, “Never. Do you think I’m crazy?”

“Jury’s out on that, Bucky.” He looks at you more intently now. “Really? Same could be said about you. When I first spoke to you it was like a deer in headlights. Ya running from something, sugar?” He’d said it jokingly but you didn’t laugh.

“No. Nothing like that.”

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Shirley came back with your plates, and two root beers. She left the check at the end of the table and Bucky swooped it up. The meal passed by in the comfortable sounds of silverware clinking and ice clacking in the cups. You both ate in record time.

You were careful to save enough for a second meal. That went into the to go container. Now both cups were drained and plates scraped clean. You start to slide out of your seat, mumbling a thanks but Bucky stops you. “Wait, won’t you sit here a while longer? I’d be kinda sad sitting here alone.” After a moments hesitation, you resume your position. “What do you wanna talk about? It can’t be the weather. Its been dry as bones for weeks.” He ponders for a moment, “You.” He shifts a little, resting one ankle on the opposite knee.

“I want to know what you’re running from, and see if I can offer...a distraction.” That shocks you. “Life? Aren’t we all running away in some form or another? I just happened to take the mobile route.” You shrug, “What do you want me to say? It was all shitty so I left it behind. And as for the distraction part, I got a whore last night, so don’t bother.” He is silent. Just sits there and gazes at you. You cock your head, getting impatient. “Am I allowed to leave now? Or do you want to talk about our feelings?”

“I slept with my best friends wife.”

“I-I’m sorry you what??”

“I slept with my best friends wife. He owns half the town, what with him being mayor and all. I couldn’t take it anymore, he’s always been the golden boy. Always been the beacon of light. I just wanted a slice of what he had.” He looks up, his eyes are dead. “She was willing, and I just... took her. There on his desk. He’d been out for lunch with some bigwig, and I made her cum twice on my cock.” He chuckles darkly. “That’d been the first time. All the other times don’t matter, he doesn’t know about those. But he does know about the time in the craft shed. Peggy did pottery.

Had a nice little workshop, it was connected to the mansion they had. I wanted to bring her pleasure in the place where she gets frustrated often, so she’d have something else to think about. Steve caught us on the floor. A big bunch of daffodils in hand. Stupid, those weren’t even her favorites.” He was gone now, lost in memories, not even knowing he was talking. “Said he had come by to take her to lunch. That was always like Steve. Expected her to clear her schedule at the drop of a hat but never doing the same for anybody. He didn’t even get mad. He just walked away, muttering something about his office.

Peggy said she could talk some sense into him. The next day I found her in the garbage when I took out my trash.” Your sharp inhale and big eyes do nothing to catch his attention. “Steve comes strolling out of nowhere, said that she was a threat to his image. Said that I need to leave or face the same. I asked why he left me alive and he said ‘So you can remember the pain until you lay down in the ground and the mice and carrion drag your body up from its silk cocoon to feast.”

But that’s not all.” He said the last bit so quietly, it was as if he said nothing.

“What?” He’s crying now, tears are forming rivers in his eyes. “She knew. She knew he was going to be there and that’s how she wanted to go out.” Your puzzled expression makes him laugh. “Don’t know many politicians, do you? Good. Keep it that way. That day when the mail came I got a letter. From her. It said how she wanted to divorce Steve ever since he became the HOA president. But she couldn’t. He had threatened her once, just once and what he said was so blisteringly awful. And he did it. He is a man of his word, after all. He kept his damn word.”

“So...she used you as an out?” He winces. You hadn’t meant to sound like that.

“Yes.”

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Out in the diners parking lot you say goodbye to James. Wait. No, no. His name is Bucky. He’s got a green Chevy and blue eyes. Or was it red? It doesn’t matter anyway. You back out and head for the next state, ignoring the blood leaking from the tarp in your trunk. The screams have stopped. And the moon is bright.

#dark!reader x bucky #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes fic #mcu #marvel fic #bucky barnes x dark!reader #bucky barnes oneshot #dark!steve rogers #moongoblin marvel writes all by herself #bucky barnes x female reader

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thiswasinevitableid · 3 years ago

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71. you’re famous and you want to hide out in my bookstore which is fine except the stupid paparazzi won’t leave and now there’s a photo of us in the tabloids and they’re printing misinformation and why the fuck won’t you clear this up on your twitter account

Sternclay, NSFW, please!

Here you go! Let's end this round of meet uglies with a bang

The post-holiday slump is always the worst; everyone maxed out their credit cards last month and doesn’t want to buy anything, and the tourists won’t be back until the spring. It’s not that he’s concerned about keeping the lights on; Bookworms is popular and has a prime spot downton. It’s that he’s bored out of his mind.

All his orders for the day are in, everything’s been received and shelved, and he’s running out of things to tidy. If he’s lucky, the clouds that have been threatening a snowstorm since this morning will burst and drive some people to shelter among the stacks.

Dingdong

Thank the lord.

“Welcome to Bookworms, can I help you?”

The man stays by the door, peering through the glass onto the street while pulling off his beanie, “Huh? Oh, uh, nope, just coming in to, uh, get out of the cold.” He turns, and two realizations slap Joseph in the face.

One: this is the hottest man he has ever had the pleasure of seeing.

Two: He’s seen this man dozens of times, just never in person.

Barclay Cobb is a Food Network darling who got his start on Youtube, sharing recipes from vintage cookbooks he found at garage sales. That’s not why he’s starstruck, but it is probably why the taller man is hiding in the craft books alcove and keeps nervously looking his way.

“I won’t tell anyone you’re here, Mr. Cobb.”

“Phew” the man sighs, unzips his jacket, “thanks man. Thought I’d be bundled up enough that no one would spot me while I was out, but I didn’t get my hat on in time coming out of the Chinese place down the block.”

“I love that spot, they have the best beer-braised duck.”

“Yeah, I always stop by when I’m in town, they’re food is worth getting photographed for.”

It’s odd, everything he’s read suggests chef Cobb is friendly and warm when approached by fans in public.

“It’s not that I don’t appreciate that people like my shows but, I, uh, sometimes I just want to eat or walk down the street without someone taking pictures of me.”

“Do you want to head into the back sections? There’s no windows in that half of the store.”

“Sweet, thanks. Uh, would it be cool if I autographed any books of mine you have? I like doing that, means I can send a little business towards smaller stores.”

“Of course. Here, the cookbooks are on this wall.” He slips into his office to grab a sharpie while Barclay pulls a stack of books and sits down on the floor. As the scratching of the pen fills the air, Joseph takes a trip to the paranormal and occult section, coming back with three copies of The Case for Bigfoot.”

“Y’know, not everyone stocks these.” Barclay smiles as he adds the paperbacks to the pile.

“Which is terrible business; you’re just as famous in the cryptozoology community as you are in the foodie one. This is the best book on bigfoot ever written, and I should know; I run a, um, a blog where I review books on paranormal topics.”

“You a true believer?” The cook blows on his signature in the copy of Desserts for All Seasons

“More an optimistic skeptic; your book is perfect because you make your case using actual evidence instead of reporting the same ten, poorly verified stories that everyone includes in their books. And I appreciated that you included recipes from the places you visited; that was a very nice touch.”

“Funny story about that” Barclay freezes as the front door opens. There’s definitely more than one person coming in, and when Joseph pokes his head around the corner he sees fifteen people, all with cameras or phones.

“Shit. You might want to hide in my office for a few minutes.”

By the time the crowd reaches him, Joseph is almost done re-shelving the signed books.

“Good afternoon, let me know if you need help finding anything.”

“Uh, yeah, we do, someone saw Barclay Cobb in your store-”

“Strange, we’ve only had one customer” he winces as someone’s shoulder knocks a hardcover off its display, “I didn’t get a good look at them before they went downstairs.” He tips his head at the staircase to the YA and Graphic Novel sections and is promptly knocked into the shelf as the throng hurries away.

“Come on, I can get you out through the back door” Joseph whispers to the Red Dust on his Soul poster on his office door. Barclay is remarkably quiet for a man his size as they sneak across the floor and let frigid, January air rush into the store.

“Thanks man” Barclay whispers, “I owe you one.” He sets a big hand on Joseph’s shoulder, squeezes it with a wink, then pulls on his hat and disappears into a crowd coming off at the bus stop.

---------------------------------------------------

Joseph always comes in through the back, flipping on lights as he goes, so the sea of bodies pressed to the front windows like a zombie horde surprises him. He knows Barclay tweeted about the signed copies, but this seems like excessive excitement even for a celebrity chef.

“Morning, Joseph--whoa, what the heck?” Aubrey clocks in without taking her eyes off the crowd, “why is everyone here this early.”

“Fan culture. I think.” The registers finish waking up, “I’ll pay holiday rates if you open that door for me.”

Aubrey gives a thumbs up, unlocks the double doors, and is swallowed up so quickly he worries she might have been trampled until she emerges near the greeting cards. Some people swarm the cookbooks, but an alarming number cluster around the counter, all shouting for his attention.

“How long have you been seeing Chef Cobb?”

“What?, I, I’m not-”

“Does he often visit your store?”

“No! He just came by yesterday!” There’s a horrible clatter of all the books on display near the door taking each other out like dominoes.

“Do you fuck in the backroom all the time?”

“Oh come on” He pushes past the man who asked that, deals with shouting all the way to his office and slams the door. A quick Google search for “Barclay Cobb” brings up a blurry photo of them in the alley, Barclays hand on his shoulder, and multiple headlines speculating on why the reclusive chef and author has chosen a nobody bookstore employee (he’s the owner, damn it) as his lover.

Okay, there’s a logical, easy fix to this.

He opens the door enough to speak, whistles so everyone will be quiet and listen to him, “I’m sorry, there’s been a misunderstanding. Mr. Cobb isn’t in any kind of relationship with me; he just came into the store yesterday for some peace and quiet. So, if you’re looking for information about him, this is not the place for it. If you’re looking for the signed books, the cookbooks are there, and the paranormal section is just around that corner.” He gives his best customer service smile as the paparazzi exchange perplexed glances.

“...Is it true he bought you this store?”

“Wh--no! We rent this space.”

“From him?”

“Arggh!” He closes the door, slumps against it and cards his fingers through his hair. As he contemplates closing for the day, he spots a little, copper card on his desk. It’s Barclay’s, which is what he expected, but when he flips it over there’s a message scribbled in pen.

Main St Hotel, room 503, here until Monday.

He pulls out his phone, tells Aubrey she’s allowed to get the crowd out by any means necessary except for fire, and elbows his way out into the winter air.

------------------------------------------

Barclay almost purrs when he peers through the peephole in the hotel door; Joseph, as his nametag read, is standing on the carpet, looking twice as handsome as he did yesterday. His cheeks are even a little pink, and Barclay has some thoughts on how to make that blush deepen.

“Hey, glad you found-”

Joseph holds up his phone, screen in Barclays face, “please fix this.”

“Oh fuck.” He ushers him in, “I’m so sorry, I thought they’d stopped doing this shit.”

“No, and they’re fucking up my inventory as a result.”

“On it, lemme text my assistant, she’s good at drafting these kind of messages.”

“Thank the lord. Right, thank you for that, I’ll go now.”

“Wait” Barclay reminds his instincts that blocking the door is rude, “do you wanna stay a few minutes? You look kinda stressed.”

“Because my store is being overrun!” Joseph snaps, then takes a deep breath and straightens his sleeves, “I’m sorry, that wasn’t called for, this morning has just been a mess. And it, um, it’s a little bittersweet to have people thinking I could land a hot chef when I can’t get past a first date with most people. Um, sorry. Too much information. That’s a bad habit of mine.”

Barclay tucks his hands into his pants pockets, “About that. Y’know how I left my card?”

Blue eyes blink, then brighten, “I thought that might be the reason but I dismissed it as wishful thinking.”

“Nope. A guy who's hot, nerdy, and competent enough to sneak me away from the paparazzi? Sign me the fuck up.”

“I’m not opposed to a, um, tryst, but I really, really need to get back to the store, I can’t abandon Aubrey to deal with this mess on her own, that’s not fair, and now we’ll have to reorder things too....” He laughs, a tense sound, “good lord, I get a chance to fuck a celebrity crush and I’m turning it down for work.”

“Hey” Barclay sets his hands on Joseph’s shoulders, “it’s okay. You’re not the first guy to be married to his job. But, uh, out of curiosity, you got any vacation days to spare?”

----------------------------------------------

“This is all yours?” Joseph takes in the sprawling farm as Barclay unlocks the front door of a charmingly rustic house.

“Yep, all the way to the creek and all the way to the road. Might surprise you, but I like my privacy.”

“I’d never have guessed.” He replies with faux shock.

“Smartass.” Barclay kisses his cheek, holds the door open with his shoulder so Joseph can pull his bags inside. He packed as light and efficiently as he could for two weeks away (he’d initially planned on one until Aubrey and Moira ganged up on him and told him he hadn’t taken a real vacation in years so he was taking one now, damn it) but his suitcase is still heavy as he rolls it to the stairs.

“I got that.” Barclay shoulders his own travel bag and hoists Joseph’s in the other hand, carrying them to the second floor like they’re nothing more than pillows.

The week the chef was in Madison, Joseph went to his hotel almost every night. Fell asleep in his bed more than once, when discussions of fusion cuisine or the Fresno Nightcrawler turned into frantic, heated kisses under the covers. It’s only when the cook drops all luggage into the master bedroom that the truth of why he’s on this trip sets in.

“You really invited me all the way here because you think I’m hot.”

“Yeah but no.” Barclay drapes his arms over his shoulders, lips still a little chilly as he kisses them, “brought you here because you’re smart” another kiss, this one on his jaw, “and funny” another, on his nose, “and you’re the biggest bigfoot fan I know.”

“You wrote a book on it!”

“Point stands. And yeah” he pushes Joseph back so he lands on the bed, crawling atop him as he growls, “I invited you here because you’re so hot I wanna pour sugar on you and see if it melts. Now get your pants off; I’ve been thinking about sucking your dick since we left the city.”

------------------------------------------

“How did the whole bigfoot thing start?” Joseph sips his Irish Coffee as Barclay puts his feet into his lap.

“Guess the same way any famous person ends up with two gigs; I was doing the thing I love, then was dicking around on cryptid hunter forums and found out I was also hella good at researching bigfoot. By the time I got really into it, I had enough cash that I could write my book without worrying about going broke. Helps that I’d handed off The Arch and The Lodge and was just the exec chef on them, since then I could travel if I needed to.”

Joseph nods, moves one hand down to rub Barclays foot; in spite of no longer working the kitchens of his five restaurants or having to test recipes for the books right now, he spent most of today on his feet making elaborate meals for two. Joseph teases him that he’s trying to stuff him to the point he can’t leave. Barclay always chuckles and says he doesn’t know how right he is. The last two days, Joseph then wraps his arms around his boyfriend and tells him he’d stay forever if he could.

He’s never thought of himself as romantic; he’s pragmatic, knows that relationships are things built out of time, trial, and error. But god help him, he’s fallen for Barclay like they’re rom-com leads with only ninety minutes to reach their happy ending.

They’re out near the creek--really more of a small river--the next morning, talking about books and speculating on the existence of life on other planets, when a storm sweeps through the trees. As trunks groan and roots pull loose from the snow, Barclay calls, “we better head back.”

He gives a thumbs up. Then the ice under him cracks.

He doesn’t correct course quickly enough, the rest dropping from under him and dunking him in freezing water. It’s deep, too deep to stand, but he’s a decent swimmer and kicks towards the surface. When the shadow covers the opening with a boom, panic threatens to push the rest of his precious breath away.

The tree that fell across the ice is heavy, and no matter how he pushes it won’t give. He bangs on the ice on either side, trying to get it to crack, but his lungs scream and his limbs alert him that the cold will soon shut them down.

He closes his eyes, trying to think, not ready to give up, not with Barclay so close. There’s a groan of wood and frozen water. His mouth opens without permission, desperate for air, and chokes him on frost instead.

-----------------------------------

“...be dead, please don’t be dead, please please please don’t be fucking dead.”

“Nnff.” That’s not what he meant to say, but it seems to calm the voice above him.

“Thank fuck. I’m so sorry, I got to you as fast as I could, do, do you need anything?” Barclay sounds exhausted.

“Cold.” He mutters.

“I’m trying to warm you up gradually, that’s what the first aid book said but, uh, here.” Warm, fuzzy arms draw him into a hug.

Wait.

The first thing he sees when his eyes flutter open are arms covered in reddish-brown fur. When Barclay rubs their cheeks together, it tickles more than his beard usually does.

“Barclay? What the hell is going on?”

“Uh. So.” He’s rolled with ease to face a creature he’s never seen and eyes that he’d know anywhere, “I’m bigfoot. Or, uh, a bigfoot. Maybe that’s kinda obvious now.”

His brain crackles to life, “What better way to stay undiscovered than get famous by giving people the wrong information about you.”

“Some of it’s true. Just not anything people could use to actually find me.”

“Smart, big guy” Joseph pets his face.

“You’re taking this pretty well.”

“I think my system is too shocked to experience more shock.” He shudders, “relatedly, how’d I get out of the river?”

“I lifted the tree off and pulled you free. Took my disguise off to do that and, uh, the fucking thing fell into the water when I got you. So I’m gonna be stuck like this until a friend of mine can get me a new one.”

“No complaints here. You look incredible.” He runs his hands up and down Barclay’s side and chest, warmth seeping into his fingers as he does, “But I’m a little surprised you were willing to risk someone seeing you or me blabbing to someone and trashing your whole life in the process.”

A low rumble as Barclay kisses his forehead, “It’s worth it. I, this is gonna sound so fucking cheesy, but I haven’t felt this way about someone in a long time, and there was no way I was gonna lose you.”

“Oh.” Affection and surprise well up in his throat, pressing down his words so all he can do is nestle closer to the cryptid and let himself be loved.

His mind rebounds quickly from his misadventure. His body would like him to remember it for a while so he doesn’t put it in such jeopardy again any time soon. Instead of helping Barclay with cooking and chores, he lays under the covers while the storm rattles the roof and the cook clangs pots on the lower floor.

Barclay, attentive to a fault, is downright doting now that he’s stuck in bed. He’s never without a hot drink or something to read, and the cryptid is happy to answer the majority of his questions about the finer points of being bigfoot. When it’s bedtime, his boyfriend pulls him atop his massive frame and cuddles him, whispering over and over that he’s glad he’s okay, until they fall asleep.

Today followed much the same pattern, though when dinner time rolls around he gets a fantastic surprise.

“Chocolate fondue?” He peers hopefully at the bed tray in Barclays hands.

“Only the best for you, babe.” The cook sets the burnished wood down on the bedside table, “we lucked out, the berries I bought last week are ripe.”

Joseph reaches for the fork, but Barclay beats him to it.

“You should save your energy. Since you’re, uh, still recovering.”

He shrugs, sets his hands in his lap and opens his mouth for a chocolate dipped raspberry. It doesn’t take long to spy Barclay’s ulterior motive. The cook has a whole wardrobe designed to fit his cryptid form, but it’s having trouble concealing certain things.

“You’re getting off on this.”

“I, uh, I, maybe a little” Barclay blushes under his fur.

Joseph raises an eyebrow, tilts his head at the bulge in Barclay’s pants, “You call that ‘little’?”

A rumbly whine, the fork paused halfway to Joseph’s mouth, “I can’t help it. I’ve got a thing for taking care of partners, especially ones who are all competent and put-together the rest of the time, and you look so good when you eat and, ohfuck.”

Joseph inhales sharply as chocolate hits his exposed upper chest. It’s not hot enough to burn, and he moans as the sensation seeps across his skin. Barclays eyes, wide and ravenous, keep flicking between the splatter and his face.

“Looks like you made a mess, big guy.” Joseph begins undoing the remaining buttons on his pajamas, “you should clean it up.”

“Fuck yeah.” Barclay lunges, mouth first, lapping and sucking at the marked skin as Joseph laughs. Their shirts hit the floor together as he digs his nails into auburn fur. Barclay grunts at the pressure, sits up with a grin, and drips a line of chocolate down the right side of Joseph’s ribs.

“Oops. Better fix that too.”

“Cleanliness is importantAH, ahhnn.” He squirms a bit as Barclay nuzzles his stomach before dragging his tongue up his skin. There’ve been times he mourned the fact T didn’t make him as hairy as some other guys, but right now he’s grateful for the clear canvas Barclay can mark however he pleases.

“A mess can be more fun.” The cook licks his lips, sucks a hickey above his belly button, “and by the time I’m done with you, babe, won’t be a single part of you that isn’t one.”

“Then get to it.” He shoves his pants down, lets Barclay pull them the rest of the way off and fold them. He lays back, resting his arms behind his head, and moans as the cook drizzles chocolate on each hip. Joseph feels like a gourmet dessert and, from the growls between his thighs, Barclay intends to treat him like one.

His boyfriend is always enthusiastic when sucking him off, but tonight he throws finesse out the window in favor of burying his face at the crease of each thigh in turn, licking his hips clean while clawing at his calves and sides. He lifts his head, wipes his mouth with a satisfied grin that shows the points of his teeth, and dives down again.

Joseph yelps with pleasure, the hint of fangs hitting all his buttons, lighting him up like downtown on a dark night. It’s intense, the scratch of fur on skin just different enough from the usual beard to remind him of who’s down there, and his legs try to kick closed. Barclay growls again, holding them open with ease.

“Not until I’m done with you, babe.”

He surrenders to flood of feelings from both outside and within him, Barclay’s sheer delight at his body rendering all his doubts and worries toothless and small, quieting them until all he can think about is incredible creature holding and all he can say is some variation on-

“Barclay, please, right there, lordalmighty that’s good, that’s so good big guy, please.” He squeezes his eyes shut, craving the impending orgasm more than he has words for. Barclay sucks determinedly and huffs, pleased, as Joseph's thighs tense in his hold and his climax chases away the remnants of yesterday's aches.

As his brain insists that really, body, opening our eyes isn’t that hard, there’s a metallic zip and strong legs bracketing his thighs.

“Here I thought you couldn’t look any better.” He murmurs as Barclay gleefully strokes his cock, “as soon as my brain works again, I’m coming up with so many ways to use that gorgeous thing.”

“Can’t, fuck, can't wait to hear ‘em, but I only got one for tonight; I’m gonna use it to cum alllll over that fucking perfect body, fuck, Joseph, you look so good when you’re ruined, fuck.” An impressive amount of cum spatters up his stomach, chest, and neck as Barclay howlgrowlpurrs and then sets his hands carefully on the bed.

Joseph’s whole body is sticky with chocolate, sweat, and cum, and Barclay definitely has at least two of those things mussed into his fur.

“You’re right, big guy, a mess can be fucking amazing.”

That being said, being sticky gets old quick, and soon they’re in the tub, Joseph whistling as he shampoos Barclay’s chest. The cryptid hasn’t stopped purring, and every time he looks Joseph’s way the sound deepens.

“When are you next in the city?”

The cook yawns, “Was gonna check on how the new chef de cuisine is getting on at Kepler in about two week.”

“Would you like to stay with me? It’s not fancy, but it’s close to the Ismuth, so you can get to Kepler on foot without trouble, and there are fewer crowds there this time of year. I suspect paparazzi are also less likely to track you down at some random house than at a hotel. That might make up for my lack of, um, high class amenities.”

“Good point. But I gotta be honest babe; as long as you’re there, that’s all I need to be happy.”

#sternclay #agent stern/ barclay #meet ugly #taz amnesty #terato #monster boyfriend #trans agent stern

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city-liquor · 3 years ago

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wiypt-writes · 4 years ago

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Stark Spangled Destiny

Ch 4- Get Busy Living, Or Get Busy Dying

Chapter Summary: We check back in with Steve and the Kids, before Katie is taken back to a time a few weeks post the Battle of New York, where she desperately tries to get through to a despondent Steve.

Chapter Warnings: Bad Language words.

Chapter Pairings: Steve Rogers x OFC Katie Stark

A/N: So these chapters contain flashbacks of sorts- but they’re not flashbacks as Katie is watching the events unfold in front of her-a “Time heist” of sorts. However, to keep it clear and hopefully not confusing, the events she is watching are depicted in itallics instead of me trying to keep calling her 2010 v 2030 Katie…

This was originally finished and posted on the day that we all learned of Chadwick Bosman’s passing. I sure can read the emotion I was feeling when I wrote it, and therefore I still dedicate this to him.

Rest in power, King. Wakanda Forever.

Disclaimer: This is a pure work of fiction and classified as 18+. Please respect this and do not read if you are underage. I do not own any characters in this series bar Katie Stark and the other OCs. By reading beyond this point you understand and accept the terms of this disclaimer.

Stark Spangled Destiny Masterlist // Main Masterlist

When Steve arrived home, Emmy’s car was already in the driveway. Rori gave a little squeal at the fact her sister was home and shot off to the front door of the house, bouncing on the step.

“Hurry up, Daddy!” she turned to look at him.

“Alright, alright.” He chuckled, reaching her with a few strides and pressing his palm to the access pad. The door clicked open and Rori shot inside, running down the hallway shouting Emmy’s name, Harry toddling behind her as fast as he could followed by Stark, his nails causing him to slip on the wooden floor as he ran, sliding ass first into the small table which thankfully didn’t fall over.

“Rori, hush!” Steve hastily tried to quiet her for fear Katie was asleep, but to no avail. With a sigh he pushed Flossie’s stroller in and then once Jamie had followed him inside he closed the door, the security system clicking back into place.

“Am I banished to my room now?” Jamie looked at him.

Steve took a deep breath, before he shook his head. “Not yet no, but you’re going up after dinner.”

“Okay.” Jamie nodded as he kicked off his sneakers and picked them up, placing them in the rack by the door. “I think I’m gonna go up anyway.”

Steve looked at him, and nodded, watching as he headed off to the stairs, his shoulders slumped a little. He hated it when any of his kids were upset but this was Jamie’s own doing. With a sigh he gently picked Flossie out of her stroller, bent to retrieve the flowers that they’d all chosen from the little meadow and headed into the kitchen where he could hear Rori gabbling on excitedly.

“Hey Dad.” Emmy looked up at him, a little sheepishly given their earlier exchanged and he smiled at her as she came towards him, arms outstretched. He passed Flossie over and then placed the flowers on the side before retrieving the empty vase from the windowsill, giving a small groan of frustration. This vase was never empty, he usually made sure of that by always bringing Katie some flowers home once a week or so, but as he filled it up with water for the flowers the kids had picked, Steve realised he’d been as guilty of neglecting her and taking her foregranted a little as anyone else in the house had been.

“I take it Mom’s still sleeping?” Emmy asked and Steve turned to look at her.

“Yeah, she must be.” He nodded. “I’ll go wake her in a little while once we’ve ordered dinner.”

“I really am sorry.” Emmy began and Steve held his hand up.

“I know, it’s done okay?” He shook his head. “We just need to make sure in future we help out a little more, an I include myself in that.”

“Daddy?” Rori tugged on his jeans and he looked down “Can you try and fix my doll now?”

“Yeah, sure.” He nodded, looking at the offended broken Barbie doll on the side. Whatever had happened between Jamie and Rori, Jamie had managed to snap the head off from the neck. He took it in his hands, had a quick look before he disappeared into the laundry room for the superglue. After a little careful application he’d managed to reattach it reasonably well.

“All fixed.” he walked back in, holding the damned doll upright as Rori gave an excited squeal “But you need to leave it to set for a while.”

“Daddy you’re the best!” She hugged him tight and he chuckled as he passed it to her.

“Be careful.”

Rori nodded as she looked at the doll and then her face fell. “But I can still see the break.” She whispered.

“I can’t do anything about that, Princess.” Steve sighed. “I’m sorry.”

“I can…” Emmy said suddenly. “Rori, go grab your craft kit.”

Rori looked at her, then to Steve who shrugged, before she thrust the doll back at him and disappeared into the den. Steve gave Emmy a questioning look and she simply winked as she placed Flossie down in the pack and play in the corner of the room, where the baby let out a loud shriek and wiggled her legs and arms excitedly at the activity station above her, grabbing at one of the rattles.

Rori came back in, carrying the little plastic box that she kept all of her stuff for colouring and sticking in the Crap Book, and set it down on the table as she scrambled into a seat. Emmy dropped next to her and opened the lid.

“Okay, so…” she began sifting through the stuff in the box and then pulled out 4 little squares of material that Rori had in there. “Which one is best?”

“Erm…” Rori looked at them before she pointed to a bright pink piece. “That one.” “Good choice.” Emmy nodded. She reached into the box once more and pulled out the crimping scissors that were in there because Rori liked the shape it left on the edge of things. Steve watched as his eldest carefully cut a thin sliver of the material off. “Dad, can you pass me headless Barbie?”

Steve smiled and headed the doll back over and Emmy wound the material round the doll’s neck, tying it in place at the front with a knot.

“There.” She said as Rori gave a huge gasp and a smile. “Line gone and Barbie now has an on point kerchief.”

“That’s awesome!” Rori grinned, giving her sister a hug. “Thank you, Emmy.”

“You’re welcome.”

“Now, Aurora,” Steve looked at her and she glanced at him, her face falling at the use of her full name, because she knew full well what it meant, “if I find out you’ve hit Jamie with it again, it’s going straight in the garbage, you understand me?” “Yes Daddy.” She said, her eyes falling down to the table.

“Good.” He nodded before he looked at Emmy. “Now, I don’t know about you, but I could use a beer.”

Emmy smiled “Sure. Sounds good.”

“Can I-“

“No.” Steve cut Rori off. “You can have a juice box. What flavour do you want?”

“Can I have apple please?”

“Sure.” He turned to Harry who was sat at the table, pushing a small car across the surface. “Hey Buddy, you want a juice box too?”

“Owange pwease.” He looked at Steve who nodded and moved to the fridge. He passed the kids each a drink, piercing Harry’s with the straw for him before he moved to the wine cooler and pulled two beers out of the beer section at the bottom. He flipped the lids on the opener set into the unit and slid one over to Emmy as Rori hopped down from the table and announced the was going to the Den.

“Any luck on the apartment hunting?” He asked and she wrinkled her nose.

“Not really.” She shrugged. “We can’t agree on anywhere. I like a place, Pete isn’t so keen, he likes somewhere, I’m not sure.” She looked at Steve “How did you and Mom agree on this place?”

“We just walked in and knew it was right.” He shrugged. “We were in a slightly different position though. We’d been living in our apartment and the compound for so long, I think this place just ticked everything we wanted. Plus, your Mom was pregnant with Jamie so we saw past the tiny little niggles we had and focussed on the good bits and there were far many more points we liked. We changed the bits we didn’t eventually.” He looked around the kitchen “And it’s nice. It’s home.”

“Pete’s not really comfortable with you and Mom saying you’d buy us somewhere.” Emmy said gently and Steve smiled, chuckling.

“I wasn’t comfortable with your Mom basically buying this place either.” He shrugged. “But, well as she pointed out, we were married by then, it was a moot point.” He took a pull from his bottle. “Did she ever tell you about the house we viewed before we got married?” Emmy grinned and nodded “Danni with an I, remember?” Steve snorted and then shrugged. “Yeah, so I had a hard time with that because I had nowhere near as much money as your Mom to put down but, it’s just money Em. Easy to say when you have it but if you and Pete are ready to settle down and be together then it shouldn’t be an issue. You want me to talk to him?” “No.” Emmy hastily spoke. “Absolutely not. You already scare the sh…” she stopped herself swearing and Steve arched a brow. “You scare the life out of him.”

“Good.” Steve grinned “I’m your Dad. That’s my job.”

Emmy rolled her eyes and Steve bit back a chuckle, checking his watch. It was almost seven. So much for an early night for the kids.

“Right, I’m going to order dinner. Fancy doing me a favour?”

“Sure.” Emmy shrugged

“Can you get Harry a bath and into his pyjamas? I’ll round the other two up once you’re done.”

“No bath from Emmy.” Harry mumbled “Momma gives me my bath.”

“Momma’s sleeping buddy, but she’ll come down in a little while for dinner ok?”

Harry looked at him and then grinned “Emmy…daddy got momma wet yesterday.”

Steve spluttered on his beer as Emmy looked at him, arching an eyebrow.

“He means at bath time.” Steve hastily explained “Harry was splashing and it ended up in a slight water fight…”

“Well of course, what else could he mean?” Emmy rolled her eyes before she groaned “God that’s a disgusting image…”

Steve blushed a little before he shook his head, pulling out his phone. “Pizza?”

Emmy nodded before she frowned “Actually, whilst I’m okay with whatever, surely mom would prefer her favourite if she’s feeling down?”

Steve pondered. “Good point. I can order from both. You want a burger or…”

Em nodded. “I’ll have the same as mom, double cheese with a side of chilli fries…oh, and can we get some mac and cheese to share?”

Steve shook his head. “I don’t share food, I’ll get two.”

Emmy smiled and then stood up grinning at her younger brother. “Okay Squirt, let’s go get you bathed.”

Harry looked at her, before he shook his head, “nope,” and in a flash he was off his chair, sprinting out of the room, cackling to himself. Emmy shook her head and with a snort took off after him. Steve watched them go, smiling to himself for a second before he set about ordering their dinner. ***** “Hey…” Katie looked at Steve as he emerged into her tower penthouse. “You okay?”

“Yeah, no, actually I dunno.” He sighed, “I’m sorry to barge in and bother you but…”

“It’s okay, I’m not busy.” She looked at him frowning, “what’s up, Soldier?”

“I had a meeting with Fury before.” Steve bit his lip, “he was going on about the academy and stuff he has planned for me and…” he trailed off

“Say what’s on your mind.” Katie encouraged, gently as she took him in. It had only been two weeks since the battle of New York, and Steve looked absolutely exhausted. She could tell he wasn’t sleeping. She’d seen him a handful of times over the past fortnight and he’d started to look more and more drawn with each visit.

“It’s overwhelming.” Steve replied eventually, shaking his head “Everything. God, it’s so noisy and…” he swallowed, “look, sorry, I’m just, I don’t know what I’m doing here, Katie. The world is so different. This isn’t me.” Katie pondered something for a minute, before she had a sudden wave of inspiration.

“Ever seen Niagara falls?”

“What?” Steve frowned, utterly perplexed at her change of subject. “No, but what’s…”

“I think you need a little head space.” She mused, before she spoke. “JARVIS?”

“Yes, Miss Stark.” The AI responded and Steve jumped a little. He wasn’t sure he’d ever get used to the voice belonging to a man that didn’t actually exist.

“Can you patch through and get one of the jets ready. Set a course for Niagara, I want to take a trip.”

“Of course Miss Stark.” Jarvis replied. “Give me a moment.”

“We can’t just fly to Niagara.” Steve looked at Katie horrified, “I mean…”

“The beauty of having a personal, private Jet is just that, Steve,” she grinned, “I can go where I want, when I want, with anyone I want. Well, most of the time anyway.”

“Isn’t that a little...”

“Self-indulgent? Eccentric? Arrogant?” She looked at him, arching an eyebrow and he sighed, shaking his head.

“I didn’t mean that. I wasn’t…”

“Well if you did mean that, you’d be correct, of course it is.” She shrugged. “But I don’t much care. It comes in handy, and as part and parcel of being friends with a Stark, you get the privilege too. Oh, and if you’re worried about the environment, don’t be. They run on self-sufficient energy sources, like this place.” She waved her hand around the apartment and Steve gave her a small smile.

“Sorry,” he looked at her a little sheepisly, “I didn’t mean to sound rude.”

Katie shrugged, “no offence taken, it’s okay.”

“Miss Stark?” JARVIS spoke again. “The Jet will be ready to leave in half an hour. Would you like me to organise a car?”

“No need, I’ll take mine. Can you have Happy sort the clearances for myself and Captain Rogers, and a car at the other side?”

“Of course”

“Thanks J.” She said, then she looked at Steve. “How about it Cap? A little spontaneous fun might be just what you need.”

“I don’t know.”

“Oh come on!” She pleaded. “You need to learn to let go, live in the moment. Not everything has to be so serious and daunting.”

Steve looked at her as she raised her eyebrows before he rolled his eyes. “Fine.”

She gave him a grin and nodded, “okay, wait here, gonna grab my jacket.”

“Do I need anything?” He asked “Like to fly or…”

“No, you’re good.” She tossed over her shoulder as she headed into her room. Shoving on a pair of sneakers and grabbing her leather jacket she walked back out to find Steve stood in exactly the same place he had been, his hands twisting together almost nervously. She took him in for a moment, he was wearing a pair of light grey slacks, a blue and white plaid with a white t-shirt just visible where the top three buttons where undone and a brown leather jacket. “What’s your schedule like next week?”

“I err, I don’t have a….what?” He frowned, utterly perplexed. .

“Never mind, I’ll sort it. We’re going clothes shopping.”

“No, absolutely not.” He shook his head.

“Steve, you can’t walk around dressed like that forever.” She scoffed “You want a quiet life? You’re gonna have to blend in a little.” As she watched his face fell and she cursed herself, hastily adding, “it’s not that you look bad. You don’t, at all. But trust me, the more you can embrace the changes in your life the happier you’re gonna feel.”

“Who says I want to embrace it?” He mumbled.

“Don’t you?” She challenged, looking at him. He gave a sigh and shrugged. “Well, that’s up to you. I can’t make your mind up for you.” “No? You’ve done a pretty good job of that today so far.” He quipped and she looked at him.

“If you really don’t want to go then we don’t have to.” She replied, not a shred of annoyance or anger in her voice. “I just thought it might be nice to get away from the noise. Both out there and in here…” She reached up and gently tapped his temple. There was a moment’s pause before Steve took a deep breath and smiled.

“No, I know. You’re right.” He nodded. “Lead the way.”

“God, I never realised how forceful I was.” Katie mused, watching as her past self and Steve headed into the elevator. She turned to Tony. “I was worse than you!”

“Hmmmm,” Tony rotated his hand in front of him on a so-so motion, “maybe not quite.”

“He needed it though.” Katie let out a breath from her nose. “God, he was so down for those few weeks after New York. I hated seeing him like that, so sad and lost.”

“You don’t know the half of it.” Natasha muttered and Katie turned to her, frowning.

“What do you mean?”

“You’ll see.” Natasha said, airily as she too headed to the elevator “Come on.”

They made their way down through to the parking lot in time to see Katie unlocking the white range Rover that had ended up buried under the Triskellion. Steve hopped into the passenger side, and Katie said something to him. He turned, reached for his belt, clicked it in and then looked at her, arching his brows. She nodded and then pulled the car out of the spot.

“He hated seatbelts.” Katie smiled fondly before she imitated his deep baritone. “They didn’t have these in my day…”

“Seatbelts, toasters, microwaves, headless and faceless voices,” Tony ticked them off on his hands, “mobile phones, TVs…” “Flashy billionaires in red and gold metal suits.” Katie nudged him, and he turned to look at her, his trademark smirk on his face. She sighed “He didn’t take long to come round, all things considered.”

They hopped into Tony’s car and emerged into sunny Manhattan from the underground lot. Katie smiled, taking it all in fondly. It had changed, dramatically following the events of the Snap and was still a very different place to the one she had once loved and called home. And then sure enough, the scenery was changing once more and they were pulling into the parking lot at Nigara Falls State Park. They all climbed out, and Katie followed Tony and Natasha through the throng of sight seers, taking the route she could remember with Steve. She could recall this trip like it was yesterday. They’d spent a few hours walking around, down to the Cave of Winds…which seemed to be where they were heading now. And, sure enough, after a little time walking Tony stopped and nodded to where her past self and Steve were stood on the Hurricane Deck, both in bright yellow ponchos. Katie knew what was coming and her face split into a grin as she watched.

Suddenly a sheet of water blew right over them, drenching them both. Steve’s face arranged itself into utter shock and Katie burst into laughter as she glanced up at him, his hair flattened to his head, water dripping down his face.

“I told you to put the hood up!” She howled, tipping her head back as she laughed. He glanced at her, wiping his face, before another wave blew over them.

“What the hell!” He spluttered, before a grin split his face in two and he gave a chuckle as well, shaking his head. He turned to look at the waterfall, taking a huge breath, closing his eyes. After another few rounds of being drenched, Katie tapped his arm and jerked her head, the pair of them heading a little further down the trail. Steve reached up and brushed his soaking hair back from his face, looking at Katie who grinned back at him.

“Everyone who comes to Niagara has to feel the spray on their face.”

“That wasn’t spray!” Steve scoffed. “We might as well have jumped into the damned fall itself.”

“Now there’s an idea.” Katie mused “I reckon they’d let you if we asked.”

“Yeah, I mean I already did one plunge to my supposed death into icy water.” Steve looked at her “What’s another?”

“Ooh was that sarcasm?” Katie arched her eyebrow and Steve rolled his eyes.

“Maybe.” He shrugged and she laughed, shaking her head.

“Come on, we can head back up and grab a coffee. Take in the view where we’re safe and dry.”

Together they weaved their way back through the visitors, and Katie’s eyes were taken by a gang of people who were all pointing at Steve and nudging one another. “Don’t bother.” She said loudly, and they looked at her, frowning.“It’s not him. He just looks very similar. Makes a killing as tribute act.”

“What are you talking about?” Steve looked at her.

“Tell you in a bit.” She grabbed his elbow and steered him up a narrow, step-lined path towards a small outdoors coffee stall. “What’s your poison?”

“Erm. Just normal, I guess?”

“Can I get a large Latte and an Americano.” Katie turned back to the barista before she looked at Steve. “You want cream or…”

“Please.” He nodded. He’d drunk it black mostly when on tour in the army, but that was because there wasn’t much of an option for any other way. Katie nodded to the barista, thanked him and reached for her purse.

“Oh, I’ll get it.” Steve said quickly, fishing his wallet out and handing over a note. Katie looked at him, smiled and thanked him and they moved further down to wait for their coffee. “So who makes a killing as a tribute act?”

“You.” She shrugged. “Well, so I told them. They’d recognised you, I think.”

“Oh.” Steve looked around “Right.”

“It’s okay, I threw them off.” She smiled, taking her drink. She moved over to the table at the side, adding a sugar to hers and stirring. Steve did the same, another thing that had never been possible in the war and once they were sorted the two of them headed over to the little viewing area, which gave a safe look out over the expanse of the waterfalls.

“You’re right, it really is beautiful” Steve looked around, taking a sip of his coffee, his aviators placed on his face.

“Yeah, I like it.” She smiled.

“You come here often or…”

“Not been for years. In fact, the last time was just after my 21st. Me and Tony came for a day out, well, I say day, we actually stayed over. Made a weekend of it. It was fun.”

“Fun.” Steve repeated. “Yeah, I remember that.”

Katie sighed. “You know, I get that you’re pissed and confused, I would be as well, Steve but you’re being your own worst enemy now.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” He asked, a little defensively. She turned to him, completely nonplussed by his tone and eyed him shrewdly.

“You know, there’s a quote from one of my favourite films that sums up you and your ‘situation’,” she framed the words with quotation marks using her fingers, “perfectly.” She looked at him. “’You can either get busy living, or get busy dying’.”

Steve took a deep breath, his face still trained on hers and she saw him swallowing a little.

“The world has changed Steve, there’s no escaping that,” Katie reached out to take his hand, giving it a little squeeze, “but that doesn’t make it any less beautiful.”

She watched as he took a deep breath and turned away from her, his hand still linked in hers as he looked back over the waterfall. He didn’t reply.

Katie wiped at her eyes as Tony dropped an arm round her shoulder, totally swept up in the emotion. “Fuck,” she swallowed, “I…”

“I know.” Tony said gently as she leaned into him, pressing a kiss to her temple.

“He just looks so,” Katie glanced at Steve, “defeated. That’s exactly how he looked in Wakanda when…” She trailed off. “I hate seeing him like this.”

“I know but remember this didn’t last long.” Tony soothed her. “You got through to him.”

“Big time.” Natasha added, gently. “Nova, this was a pivotal moment in Steve’s life. He always told me that ‘The Shawshank Redemption’ was a personal favourite of his, and this is why.”

“Yeah, I know. He’s told me.” Katie sniffed. “In fact, he told me not long after we started dating that this moment was what made him kick himself up the ass, realise that he had to try and move forward. It’s why we came back here a few times. But it didn’t make it any easier for him you know? He still struggled.”

“No, but you did.” Natasha looked at her. “You made it a hell of a lot easier for him. You know this.”

Katie nodded. “Yeah, like I say, he’s told me plenty of times. Still, guess he had no option. Not like he could go back was it?”

“Well, he could have.” Tony shrugged. “When I cracked Time Travel.”

“I mean at the time.” Katie shot Tony a glare. “Stop being facetious.”

“Yeah, about that, that isn’t strictly true either. Well, maybe not the Time Travel thing but…” Natasha trailed off as Katie looked at her, frowning.

“What do you mean?”

“You’ll see.” Nat smiled. “Come on.”

Katie looked at Tony who simply shrugged before she tossed a glance back over to her past self who was now stood with Steve, both engaged in a conversation. She fondly recalled how it had taken a lighter turn, Katie telling Steve about her experiences in London, and he his, both of them sharing a laugh about how the two were very different. She made a mental note to tell him they needed to come back to Niagara soon, with the kids this time. With a final, fond look at the back of her soldier, she turned and followed her friend and brother towards the car.

*****

“Now this takes me back.” Katie smiled, fondly looking around the inside of Steve’s New York apartment that SHIELD had put him up in. It was clean and tidy, nothing out of place. Not unlike his home in DC had been, well, that is until she had descended upon it and caused chaos. She used to take great delight in moving things around and seeing how long it took him to notice and especially wearing odd socks which she would flash when she kicked off her sneakers and either dropped her feet onto the coffee table or up on the sofa besides him. He had hated that, so much so that for her birthday the first year he’d known her, he’d jokingly bought her a bumper pack of the items which were labelled with the days of the weeks on. More fool him though, as she’d simply mixed them all up and started wearing them on the wrong days. Rori now wore odd socks too, copying her, and Steve simply rolled his eyes every time he saw it, chuckling to himself.

Just another way he had come so far from the uptight man he had been all those years ago.

She wheeled round as she saw Steve walk into the apartment, in the same outfit as she had been in at Niagara. She glanced at the calendar on the wall and realised it was the same day, this must have been the night they had gotten home.

Curiously, she followed him into the kitchen where he pulled out a beer and popped the lid with his hand.

“Show off.” Tony mumbled and Katie snorted.

“He still does that you know, not all the time but, when he’s feeling like wants to be particularly macho.” Katie smiled fondly.

The three of them watched as Steve sat down at the small table, both his large hands cradling his drink as he sat still, his eyes fixated on a spot on the wall, his face deep in concentration. Katie felt her chest contract a little, he looked so damned lost.

He reached for his phone, pulling it out, looking at it. It was a Samsung, Katie had shown him how to use it, she remembered and she also remembered showing him how to take photos with it, which she knew he’d done at Niagara, testing it out.

This was strange for her to watch, as she hadn’t been here for this moment previously. So she couldn’t know for sure what he was thinking as he looked at his phone. She took a step towards him, peering over his shoulder as she glanced down at what he was looking at. It was a picture of the water fall he’d taken as they stood with a coffee, and then he swiped to the next one which was the first ‘selfie’ of the pair of them ever taken, one which still sat in a frame on the side in their hallway. Steve had crouched down to get into the frame, as Katie couldn’t quite reach far enough otherwise and he’d smiled, a little awkwardly, but it made for a good shot all things considered. She’d teased him relentlessly about being the Poster Boy of the damned War, but being so shit at actually taking a photo. So much so at one point he’d threatened to throw her over the railing. She’d laughed than and slapped his arm, drawing a chuckle from him in response.

Steve gave a little sigh as he looked at the photo, before he turned the screen off, drained his beer and pushed his chair back from the table. Picking up his jacket he left, locking the door behind him.

“What…” Katie looked at Natasha who nodded to the door.

Katie frowned, opened it and stepped through…and found herself in an office. Only this wasn’t at the Triskellion, it was at their base in New York. Steve was stood in front of Fury, who was lounging in a chair.

“I take it from the demand to see me immediately you’ve come to a decision?” Fury eyed Steve and the soldier took a deep breath.

“Yes, I have Sir.”

“And?”

“I don’t want to go back into stasis.” Steve spoke clearly. “I was tempted but, well, I’ve been given a second shot at my life. I owe it to those men, all my friends who didn’t, not to throw it away.”

Fury took a deep breath and nodded. “Good, I’m glad. Like I said a few months back, the world could still use a man like you, Cap.”

Steve nodded. “I’ll take the position in SHIELD it it’s still open. Just tell me where I need to be and when.”

Fury smiled. “Consider it done.”

“Thank you.” Steve said, before he nodded to the door. “I’ll see myself out.”

As he turned to go, Fury stopped him. “I’m curious, what changed your mind, other than owing it to the dead?”

Steve hesitated and turned to the Director, a small smile on his face. “Let’s just say I had my eyes opened. The world has changed, but it’s still a beautiful place.”

Katie’s breathing was deep as she watched Steve leave the office, “He…he was going…” the words caught in her throat as she looked at Natasha, completely in shock at the scene she had just watched.

Natasha nodded. “Fury offered him the chance to go into stasis, to be frozen again, and brought back out if we ever needed him. Just like HYDRA did with Barnes.”

“He never told me that.” Katie sniffed, her eyes stinging with tears. “He never mentioned any of this to me, I can’t…”

At that point she began to cry and she turned to Tony who wrapped his arms around her as she sobbed into his chest. The thought that Steve had felt so lost he had even considered this broke her damned heart and she couldn’t stop the tears as they continued to fall. And more so, she couldn’t understand why he had never told her.

“‘I’m only strong because you’re by my side.’ Remember those words?” Tony spoke gently.

“Of course I do.” Katie sniffed and wiped her eyes, stepping back a little to look at her brother. “It was in his wedding speech…”

“Exactly.” Tony smiled, reaching up to brush her tears away with his thumbs. “You gave him the strength to keep going when everything and everyone he knew was lost.”

“Without you being there, Rogers would have ended up as nothing more than a Soldier, wheeled out by SHIELD when they needed him.” Natasha sighed gently. “It’s twisted, I know, given Barnes’ history, but that’s the way it is. Captain America would have been SHIELD’s version of the Winter Soldier. But you showed him there was a life to live, and he made that decision to damned well live it.”

Katie took a deep, shaky breath. “I wanna go home.” She whispered, gently. “I wanna wake up, I’ve seen enough. I want my kids, I want Steve.”

“Just give us one more stop.” Tony soothed, softly “One more, please Kiddo, there’s something else I want you to see.”

Katie looked away as more tears brimmed in her eyes before she glanced back at her brother then to Natasha.

“I can’t.” “Do you trust me?” Tony looked at her and she sighed.

“Of course I do.”

“Then let me show you one last memory. And then, well, then we can say goodbye.”

“Jesus Christ, Tone.” Katie cried, her voice cracking. “Don’t say it like that.”

“Hey, look at me.” Her brother instructed, and she turned to face him, swallowing as tears poured down her face, her chest aching with raw emotion. “You know this was never permanent. We’re gonna have to go at some point.”

“I know, I just…” Katie shook her head. She glanced back over at Fury who was furiously talking into his phone, most likely to Coulson from the snippets she caught as he discussed Steve, and she took a deep breath, steeling herself and turning back to Tony.

“Okay, let’s get this over with.”

“That’s the spirit.” Tony smiled, dropping an arm round her shoulder.

As they headed into the corridor, Tony looked around, taking the surroundings in as they walked to the elevator.

“Do you remember my speech?” He asked as he hit the ground floor button. “At your wedding, I mean.”

“Of course I do.” Katie smiled “I remember yours, Steve’s Sam’s…Steve nearly died at Sam’s comment about being friends with Captain America doubling your chances of getting laid”

“Yeah, it was pretty funny, but mine was better.” Tony shrugged flippantly, and Katie rolled her eyes, snorting a little as the elevator doors closed.

**Original Posting**

#stark spangled destiny #steve rogers #Katie Stark #steve rogers fanfiction #steve rogers fic #steve rogers x ofc #steve rogers x original female character #mcu #mcu fanfic #chris evans #chris evans characters

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what-is-your-plan-today · 4 years ago

Text

Stark Spangled Destiny

Ch 4- Get Busy Living, Or Get Busy Dying

Chapter Warnings: Bad Language words.

Chapter Pairings: Steve Rogers x OFC Katie Stark

Huge thanks to @icanfeelastormbrewing and @southerngracela for beta reading this before. You girls are awesome.

I thought long and hard about posting this today, but it was finished this morning and I sure can read the emotion I was feeling when I wrote it, and I wanted to share it. This was my outlay.

Rest in power, King. Wakanda Forever.

When Steve arrived home, Emmy’s car was already in the driveway. Rori gave a little squeal at the fact her sister was home and shot off to the front door of the house, bouncing on the step.

“Hurry Daddy!” she turned to look at him.

“Alright, alright…” he chuckled, reaching her with a few strides and pressing his palm to the access pad. The door clicked open and Rori shot inside, running down the hallway shouting Emmy’s name, Harry toddling behind her as fast as he could followed by Stark, his nails causing him to slip on the wooden floor as he ran, sliding ass first into the small table which thankfully didn’t fall over.

“Am I banished to my room now?” Jamie looked at him.

Steve took a deep breath, before he shook his head. “Not yet no, but you’re going up after dinner.”

“Okay.” Jamie nodded as he kicked off his sneakers and picked them up, placing them in the rack by the door. “I think I’m gonna go up anyway.”

“Hey Dad.” Emmy looked up at him, a little sheepishly given their earlier exchanged and he smiled at her as she came towards him, arms outstretched. He passed Flossie over and then placed the flowers on the side before retrieving an empty vase from the windowsill. He let out a little sigh, this vase was never empty, he usually made sure of that by always bringing Katie some flowers home once a week or so, but as he filled it up with water he realised he’d been as guilty of neglecting her and taking her foregranted a little as anyone else in the house had been.

“I take it Mom’s still sleeping?” Emmy asked and Steve turned to look at her.

“Yeah, she must be.” He nodded “I’ll go wake her in a little while once we’ve ordered dinner.”

“I really am sorry.” Emmy began and Steve held his hand up.

“I know, it’s done ok.” He shook his head “We just need to make sure in future we help out a little more.”

“Daddy…” Rori tugged on his jeans and he looked down “Can you try and fix my doll now?”

“All fixed.” he walked back in, holding the damned doll upright as Rori gave an excited squeal “But you need to leave it to set ok?”

“Daddy you’re the best!” she hugged him tight and he chuckled as he passed it to her.

“Be careful.”

Rori nodded as she looked at the doll and then her face fell. “But I can still see the break.” She whispered.

“I can’t do anything about that princess.” Steve sighed. “I’m sorry.”

“I can…” Emmy said suddenly “Rori, go grab your craft kit.”

Rori looked at her, then to Steve who shrugged, before she thrust the doll back at him and disappeared into the den. Steve gave Emmy a questioning look and she simply winked as she placed Flossie down on the play-mat in the corner of the room, where the baby let out a loud shriek and wiggled her legs and arms excitedly at the activity station above her, grabbing at one of the rattles.

“Ok, so…” she began sifting through the stuff in the box and then pulled out 4 little squares of material that Rori had in there. “Which one is best?”

“Erm…” Rori looked at them before she pointed to a bright pink piece “That one.” “Good choice.” Emmy nodded. She reached into the box once more and pulled out the crimping scissors that were in there because Rori liked the shape it left on the edge of things. Steve watched as his eldest carefully cut a thin sliver of the material off. “Dad, can you pass me headless Barbie?”

Steve smiled and headed the doll back over and Emmy wound the material round the doll’s neck, tying it in place at the front with a knot.

“There.” She said as Rori gave a huge gasp and a smile “Line gone and Barbie now has a kerchief.”

“That’s awesome!” Rori grinned, giving her sister a hug “Thank you Emmy.”

“You’re welcome.”

“Now, Aurora…” Steve looked at her and she glanced at him, her face falling at the use of her full name, because she knew full well what it meant “If I find out you’ve hit Jamie with it again, it’s going straight in the garbage, you understand me?” “Yes Daddy.” She said, her eyes falling down to the table.

“Ok.” He nodded before he looked at Emmy “I don’t know about you, but I could use a beer.”

Emmy smiled “Sure. Sounds good.”

“Can I-“

“No.” Steve cut Rori off “You can have a juice box. What flavour do you want?”

“Can I have apple please?”

“Sure.” He turned to Harry who was sat at the table, pushing a small car across the surface “Hey Buddy, you want a juice box too?”

“Any luck on the apartment hunting?” he asked and she wrinkled her nose.

“Not really.” She shrugged. “We can’t agree on anywhere. I like a place, Pete isn’t so keen…he likes somewhere, I’m not sure.” She looked at Steve “How did you and mom agree on this place?”

“We just walked in and knew it was right.” He shrugged “We were in a slightly different position though. We’d been living in our apartment and the compound for so long, I think this place just ticked everything we wanted. Plus, your mom was pregnant with Jamie so…we saw past the tiny little niggles we had and focussed on the good bits and there were far many more points we liked. We changed the bits we didn’t eventually.” He looked around the kitchen “And it’s nice. It’s home.”

“Pete’s not really comfortable with you and mom saying you’d buy us somewhere.” Emmy said gently and Steve smiled, chuckling.

“I wasn’t comfortable with your mom basically buying this place either.” He shrugged “But, well as she pointed out we were married by then, it was a moot point.” He took a pull from his bottle “Did she ever tell you about the house we viewed before we got married?” Emmy grinned and nodded “Danni with an I, remember?” Steve snorted and then shrugged “Yeah, so I had a hard time with that because I had nowhere near as much money as your mom to put down but, it’s just money Em. Easy to say when you have it but if you and Pete are ready to settle down and be together then it shouldn’t be an issue. You want me to talk to him?” “No.” Emmy said quickly “Absolutely not. You already scare the sh…” she stopped herself swearing and Steve arched a brow “You scare the life out of him.”

“Good.” Steve grinned “I’m your dad. That’s my job.”

Emmy rolled her eyes and Steve bit back a chuckle, checking his watch. It was almost 7pm. So much for an early night for this lot.

“Right, I’m going to order dinner.” He said, “Fancy doing me a favour?”