#ca:tfa press

[musette22]

"And now you're a superhero! Did you wanna do this when you were a little boy?" [X]

[cable-knit-sweater]

I watched this interview of Sebastian where he talks about meeting some fans in Berlin back in 2015 when they were shooting Civil War. Apparently that was their last day in Berlin and Seb was done early so he had gone back to the hotel and Joe Russo texted him telling him that some fans had been waiting outside all day to meet him. And Seb being the sweet man that he is actually went out to meet them. Do you ever think about how Chris might have fallen for Seb when he heard about that

Hi!!

I love that moment - Sebastian is such a sweetheart 🥺🥰 And I love your question - I think a lot about it actually, when things happened and feelings developed.

I’m not sure if this specific moment is when it happened, but it just as well could be. We all know how the CW era was special for them- just look at my Civil War Press Honeymoon tag 😂

But I do think it’s one of the reasons. Maybe not that night, but just the fact that Sebastian is such a sweetheart to everyone. Chris has mentioned it enough times, and the way he says it, tells me a lot 🥺

I have countless theories on how it could’ve happened during CA:TFA, CA:TWS, CA:CW, and even after.

But if this were the moment that it happened? Some thoughts below the cut.

//

I think Chris would hear about what Seb had done, maybe from one of the Russo’s, maybe from Mackie, and when he hears it he just automatically grab his chest like he does whenever he talks about Sebastian like this. He’s not even sure why he does it, it’s just because it’s a big feeling and doing this makes it easier to process, when he can’t express things in words and just has to feel.

Chris doesn’t think anything of it, at first. He’s pretty sure he’s just feeling fond of Sebastian, like he often does. It’s hard not to, he thinks, with the way Sebastian is just so fucking sweet to everyone. It’s like watching a puppy. That’s all.

But then he talks to Sebastian the next day, and asks him about it as they’re hanging out before their flights. Sebastian ducks his head a little, and mumbles something about them waiting all day and it’s the least he could do, and the feeling returns in full force, almost punching the breath out of Chris. He just stares at Sebastian, takes all of him in, and the feeling doesn’t go away, it just burns right there under the surface, bright and warm and overwhelming.

He doesn’t say anything. Doesn’t know what to say.

“Do you think I shouldn’t have?” Sebastian asks, scrunching his nose adorably, when Chris stays silent.

He doesn’t ever want Sebastian to feel like he should act any different. “No, no, I think- I think it’s sweet, must’a meant the world to them,” he says, and if you’d ask him later, he wouldn’t really remember what he says next, if he says anything at all.

Chris’s brain is too busy trying to figure out what it all means to have any recollection of what’s said next. Thinking about what those feelings mean. It’s a lie. He knows what they mean, he’s just not sure he can wrap his head around it. They’ve been friends for so long now, working together on these 3 movies.

He won’t lie to himself and say he’s not thought Sebastian was attractive, or thought he was an incredible human being, but this is different. This is very different. And he doesn’t know what to do.

“Chris?” Sebastian asks, a hand on his shoulder. “You okay?��

“Huh?” Chris replies, blinking until Sebastian comes back into focus.

“You zoned out a little. And you keep touching your chest, are you okay, are you hurt?”

Chris blinks again. “I’m sorry, I’m fine, just thinking,” he says, giving Seb a dumb smile.

“That does sound like it would hurt,” Sebastian replies.

Chris chuckles, and pushes at Sebastian. “You asshole,” he says.

“I think I might be in love with you,” he thinks.

//

So there it is lol, I seem incapable of giving normal lengthy answers to these questions 😂 Thanks again for your ask, and I hope you have a wonderful weekend! 💗

[16woodsequ]

I live for your very angsty and meta posts 👀

Hehehe, so I believe this is related to this post about Steve's educational videos he makes that Peter Parker watches. And I alluded I had some angsty headcanons about it.

Okay! So a lot of people have pointed out how ridiculous these PSAs are considering how they talk about following the rules and eating healthily when Steve Rogers is notorious for going against rules for the greater good and also got his body pumped full of serum before he was healthy.

As amusing as these PSAs are to watch (and I do find them fun) it's easy to see how out of character they are for Steve!

One of Steve's arcs in CA:TFA is trying to stop being a 'dancing monkey'. He feels trapped and stifled in his USO role and he does everything he can to distance himself from it when he gets the chance so he can be taken seriously and be a greater use for the war effort. (As I point out in this post he even blows off a Senator and doesn't show up for an award ceremony because of how much he's done with the press circuit.)

I think Steve is very sensitive to being used as a propaganda piece, and while he understands why the propaganda machine exists during the war and why everyone is so insistent on getting him on camera and using him as a prop piece, I don't think he enjoyed it.

So what's the deal with these PSAs?

I headcanon that these happened very soon after Steve came out of the ice. (I already headcanon that Avengers happened soon after the ice, not a year later.) Steve is wearing his horrible SHIELD suit from Avengers (I have opinions about this suit, he looks like a dancing USO monkey again, it doesn't even have shoulder straps for his shield.) I think that suit represents a lot of how Steve is viewed in the 21st century when he wakes up. He's a propaganda piece again. He's being viewed through 70 years of American nationalism, and it shows.

Since he's wearing that suit, I think these PSAs were organised very soon after the Avengers. At these point in time, Steve is very vulnerable. He's trying to adjust to 70 years of change, to the fact that all his friends are dead, to a battle with aliens he just had, to the fact that every plan he'd had for after the war is gone, (to the terrible, horrible, no good, very bad cabin SHIELD put him in), and to Bucky's death that is still very fresh.

I have no doubt that Steve was very lost and adrift during this time. What is he supposed to do with his life now? What jobs can he work? What life skills does he have that will apply 70 years later? How is he supposed to pay for things now when they cost so much? How is he supposed to learn everything he missed when he doesn't even know how much he doesn't know?

Then along comes SHIELD (after they may or may not have purposely destabilised him with the cabin) and they tell him Captain America is still needed, he has a role and and a purpose.

I think he's still skeptical of this. We see in Avengers Steve isn't so sure when he talks to Coulson:

The uniform? Aren't the stars and stripes a little... old fashioned?

With everything that's happening, the things that are about to come to light, people might just need a little old fashioned

I don't believe Steve planned to be, or wanted to be Captain America after the war. Captain America was a show name he had to take on before he was taken seriously, and then he had to keep it because of how powerful the name became. But I fully believe he intended to be Steve after the war.

But now no one knows Steve, and it seems as thought the only real use and purpose he can have in the future is being this propaganda piece, this symbol.

So he dons the USO styled Captain America suit again and becomes that symbol again while he fights aliens shortly after waking up to find his whole world changed.

And this is when I think SHIELD comes to him with the idea for these PSAs. Picture Steve still lost and adrift after fighting aliens and trying to figure out what to do with himself and SHIELD comes and says:

"The public needs to get to know Captain America. They have a lot of questions. We need to introduce him to the world beyond some blurry videos of him fighting in New York. We need to show the world you're real."

And SHIELD has this great plan to film these PSA videos. It introduces him to children, it spreads good messages, it makes him seem familiar and authoritative, but approachable. What could be better than that?

But the videos are scripted for the propaganda piece, Captain America. They aren't for Steve at all. They are the product of 70 years of propaganda. They're as bad as the old USO films, if not worse because no one watching them will know who he really is under that cowl.

I think Steve does those videos because SHIELD convinces him it will be a good idea for his image and to help introduce him to the world, but I think the instant he starts filming he dies inside.

He's drowning in propaganda. He can tell he's being used to spread the polished perfect all-America Captain America narrative. He's not naive, and he's been through the propaganda circuit before, he can tell he's being used.

And I headcanon that after those PSAs Steve firmly told SHIELD he was never doing anything like that ever again.

So as much as I enjoy laughing at the PSAs I can't help imagining Steve cringing every time he sees them. And not just because they're awkward and out of character, but because it represents a time where he was vulnerable and taken advantage off to spread a narrative about Captain America and America as a whole, when no one saw him as Steve and he was so lost and just trying to hang on.

Anyways, I think those PSAs really embarrass Steve because he let SHIELD talk him into them and use him as this propaganda piece (not that it's his fault, he was incredibly vulnerable at the time) and he regrets doing them and probably hates any time they are brought up.

But on a lighter note, Steve would hate them just as much as Peter and would be fully on board tearing them to shreds, probably much to the delight of Peter and his friends.

[sparkagrace]

14th February by @sparkagrace

steve x bucky | G | 810 words tags: ca:tfa, established relationship, valentine's day, secret relationship fills: @allcapsbingo: I5: promises | monthly mission: secret valentines

It's not the Valentine's either of them had planned for, but the one thing they've learned is that there's very little they can control in the middle of a war. Nevertheless, Bucky wants to do something to mark the occasion now that he and Steve will be spending it together, even if it's the the middle of the forest a stone's throw away from Paris.

It could still be romantic.

The idea comes to him when he spots a cameo necklace in an old antique shop. He doesn't have enough money, but through a series of well-thought trades (his cigarette rations and coffee) he manages to secure it before they move out of the city.

It's hard to find time alone once they make camp, but when it's just him and Steve by the campfire while the rest of the Howlies are out on an evening patrol, he pulls out the necklace hastily wrapped in brown paper and string and shyly hands it to Steve.

"It's for you," he says, somewhat redundantly. He can't watch as Steve carefully - even with those new big fingers - unwraps the package and peeks into the box. "Happy Valentine's."

Steve doesn't say anything, maybe for a full minute, but eventually he manages to find his words.

"Like my ma's."

"Yeah, like hers. I know it's not exactly the same, but-"

Steve presses a kiss to Bucky's lips: impulsive and quick, but still solid and true.

"Thank you. She made me promise never to lose it and now it's in some box in New York..." Steve worries his lip and Bucky knows that feeling of missing home. Of wondering if they'll ever make it back. Wondering if it'll still be home if they do.

"When we get home, we'll make sure to keep it safe. 'Til then you can have this one," Bucky assures as he takes hold of Steve's free hand and squeezes gently.

Steve nods and grins, a kiss pressed to their joined hands. Then he untangles and reaches for his pack, rooting through the contents until a small stack of letters appears.

"I may have taken advantage of my new rank to pull some strings," he confesses, handing Bucky the stack. "They got here last week and holding onto them has been killing me. I wanted to wait until today."

Bucky recognises Becca's handwriting instantly. Her girly loops on that expensive correspondence set that he had gifted her when she turned eighteen three years ago. When things were different.

The letters are thicker than the ones he's used to receiving, but when he opens it, it's easy to understand why. There's photographs folded into each of the notes from his parents, Becca, even his grandparents. Some of the photographs are older: a family portrait they took on his twenty-first birthday, him and Steve as kids, Sarah Rogers on her last Thanksgiving with the Barneses... precious memories of a life that he's been missing.

There's a handful of new photographs too. There's the Christmas just gone with their grandparents - older now but still there, still safe. There's also a picture of Becca with an hand looped around the arm of a tall guy, and Bucky makes a face at Steve as if to ask 'who is this?'

"I asked her to send some stuff over that you might like. I made her promise not to tell you. I wanted it to be a surprise."

So this is why Becca's last letters were so short. She was keeping all the big updates for Steve's gift.

He tries reading the enclosed letters, but he only makes out half a sentence ("...hope Steve is keeping you safe like he promised...") before his eyes mist over and he knows it's too much to read right now when the Howlies could come back at any minute. He'll read them tonight before bed so he can concentrate. So that he and Steve can share in the messages written to them (because they've always been a them and he knows Becca would be writing to Steve as much as to him).

"Thank you for doing this for me," he chokes out. "I love you."

Steve clutches the cameo necklace in his hand as if to express the same sentiment.

"Next year we'll be back home. I'll make you candlelit dinner," Steve promises. "That'd be nice for Valentine's, huh?"

"Yeah, Stevie. That'll be real nice."

They both look up when they hear a twig snap somewhere and Dum-Dum's gruff voice approaching. Bucky tucks the letters away in his jacket and Steve safely deposits the cameo in his pack.

The rest of the night is spent around a campfire and among good friends, but Bucky catches Steve's gaze a few times, photos and letters from loved ones nestled against his chest, and feels his heart warm and safe.

It's not such a terrible way to spend a Valentine's Day.

[3pirouette]

Fic: The Captain and The Missus (3/?)

Title: The Captain and The Missus 

By: TriplePirouette/3Pirouette

Spoilers: AU of CA:TFA

Disclaimer: They're not mine.

Distribution: AO3 Anyone else please ask first :) 

Story Summary: Instead of wanting to recreate the serum, Schmidt wants every trace of it wiped from existence so he can be the sole one to benefit from it. This means that Steve’s life is in danger, and Peggy’s new job is to keep him alive as he travels in hiding with the USO tour. 

Story A/N: AU of CA: TFA, based on @roboticonography’s idea of having Peggy go on tour with Steve as “Mrs. America”

(Robot’s post HERE: https://3pirouette.tumblr.com/post/654017864817360896/steggy-24-49)

SO... Yes. yes, it's true. I've somehow managed to only update this once a year during the past three years for Steggy Week. At least I'm consistent.

For 2023, this satisfies Steggy Week Day 2: WIPs and Updates.

Chapter 3: Getting on the Right Track

Summary: Peggy and Steve are off on their adventure, but she’ll need to start relying on him just as much as she wants him to rely on her if this is going to work.

A/N: Yes. I’ve now posted one chapter a year for three years in a row for Steggy Week. It’s become tradition. I think a lot of it has to do with this story really just coming slow. I love it, but it’s not flowing as nicely as I’d like it to, so when I get to Steggy Week, I see the WIP category, and go “oh! I should update that!”

So, yeah. Please be kind about it.

~*~

Peggy huffed as she sat on the bench, sliding over to make room for him, irritated. “I’m already not liking this.”

Steve settled softly, trying to tuck his body into a space that used to seem roomy to his 90-pound self, and now seemed cramped for his new body. “The seat?” He turned and looked up the aisle. “I can ask the conductor if there’s—"

“No, no,” she interrupted him, setting her bag on her lap and playing with the edge. “Playing the nagging wife. ‘Oh, do be gentle! My grandmother’s china is in there! Please keep that on the bottom, men, I don’t want it tipping. Oh, could you do me a favor and make sure all our trunks are labeled? Couldn’t lose one, you know!’” She huffed again, looking over at him, dropping her voice to a whisper. “Those men nearly dropped that entire trunk full of ammunition and finely tuned decoders!”

Steve looked alarmed and dropped his voice, leaning in to her. “Could they have exploded?”

She pressed her lips and turned away for a moment, trying not to be angry for his ignorance. “No,” she mumbled, looking back, “But we won’t get another chance at getting more decoders or half of the other kit in there if something breaks or de-calibrates. It won’t explode, but that doesn’t mean it isn’t delicate.”

Steve nodded, letting the information settle for a moment. “I was a little curious why you were being so specific about them.”

Peggy glanced around the sparsely populated car, still caught up in her anxiety. The car ride to the train station had been quiet, which she had hoped came across as contentment, but it was really more her nerves than anything. “I understand why we couldn’t take a transport, but I’d take a well-trained private over a single one of those brutes tossing around our luggage any day. I felt like I was running basic training all over again out there. Everyone on this train must think you’re horribly hen-pecked.”

For a moment she saw that 90-pound man reemerge as he twiddled his thumbs and his jaw opened and closed as he tried to come up with an answer that would appease her. It was enough to crack the wall of growing anxiety and soften her just a little bit. She took pity on him and set her hand on his to stop the fidgeting. “I’m being ridiculous.” She started another sentence, but had to turn away as she yawned, big and wide, into her elbow.

“Tired?” Steve asked, his fingers almost, but not quite, holding her hand.

She sighed, turning back to him as the train rumbled to life under them. “A bit. Had trouble sleeping last night.”

“Why don’t you take a nap?” He shrugged, half smiling. “We’ve got, what… six hours?”

Peggy clicked her tongue behind her teeth and pulled her hand back, sitting tall. “That’s exactly why I can’t take a nap.” She took a deep breath, looking around the train. “Beginnings and endings of operations are the most dangerous part. Anyone could have followed us here. I can’t let my guard down for a second.”

“Peggy,” he started, almost stern, “there’s barely anyone on this train car. I don’t think that the eighty-year-old woman or the two little kids over there are planning anything nefarious. How could they have figured out our plan and followed us here already?”

She looked at him hard, knowing he was trying to placate her. “How, indeed?” She mused sarcastically, “And how do you think a Hydra Agent managed his way into a top secret SSR bunker to try to kill you and Erskine, hum?” She didn’t mean to be sharp, didn’t mean to open the wound that was still too close to the surface, but the thought still kept her up at night.

That man shouldn’t have been able to get in there. Someone in the SSR was ratting them out to Hydra.

That meant that nothing, nothing they were going to do that anyone else knew about, was safe.

Especially putting Steve in this damn show.

Steve nodded in understanding, shrugging half-heartedly, a shadow passing over his face at the thoughts of what had happened. “I get it, I do.”

“I have to keep you safe.” She replied softly, urgency filling her voice. “I can’t let my guard down, even for a moment.”

“So what?” he didn’t miss a beat, his own eyes accusing now, “You’re not going to ever fall asleep?”

“Well, I—”

He shook his head. “No, Peg. This isn’t one sided.”

She leaned forward, dropping her voice down low, “It’s my job to keep you alive, and I’m damn well not going to—”

He reached over, grabbing her hand. The movement was enough to derail her frustration and turn it to curiosity as he held her left hand up to his. “This, Peg, says we’re partners.” He moved his hands, letting their matching rings shine in the light, smiling a little and letting his own frustration morph to earnestness. “For better or for worse. Like it or not. You and me against the world.”

Peggy didn’t want to admit that the moment, born out of frustration and desperation, was extremely tender, or that she felt a little thrill of excitement at the confident, strong way he took her hand, or that she felt cared for in the soft way that he cradled her hand as he lined up their rings. No, she tried to ignore the fact that his eyes were damn near sparkling as he said those words, filled with all the emotions she was feeling, and maybe even more. She really, really didn’t want to admit that of all the moments in her life, that was the most damn romantic of them all.

“Steve, I…” Her voice drifted away. She wasn’t sure what she wanted to say, but she knew she needed to protest, needed to change this moment before it got way out of hand.

“We’re a team,” he whispered. “The moment we left that base this morning, it was just us. I don’t like to think about the fact that someone has already tried to kill me, and that it’ll probably happen again, and I don’t like thinking about the fact that you’re in that line of fire with me. But you’re here to protect me, and even though no one’s said it before now, I’m saying it and I mean it: I’m protecting you, too.”

Peggy struggled for composure; she tried to keep a straight face when everything inside her was falling apart. She’d never been one for big declarations or sappy sentiments and coming from anyone else, it might have felt trite or overly sugary, but Peggy knew with every fiber of her being that Steve meant it. He well and truly meant it.

She couldn’t remember if anyone had ever said something so simple in such a profound way to her before. She couldn’t remember if she’d ever believed someone so fervently before.

It was a struggle to pull her focus back out, to keep the world from closing in until there was just the two of them, hands cradled together, train bouncing below them as Steve just happened to outdo her ex-fiance’s proposal of marriage in a few earnest words, but she managed it. “Thank you,” she whispered, knowing the words were not enough for the depth of the sentiment he just expressed. She forced the tension to break with a smile, squeezing his hand. “You don’t need to work so hard, Steve, I’ve already married you.”

He chuckled, the heaviness around them lightening almost instantly. He looked away, ears turning red as he whispered into the aisle, “Maybe I’m trying to get you to fall in love with me.”

“Hum?” The questioning sound was out of her throat before she could stop herself. She knew very well what he’d said, but didn’t quite want to believe it. She managed to keep a straight face as he panicked, letting go of her hand and shaking his head.

“Nothing,” he tried to cover, poorly, and forced a nervous smile at her. “You should take a nap, really.”

Her smile only lifted her lips a little as she ducked her head. “To be honest, I don’t know if I could if I wanted to, I’m still so keyed up.”

This time his smile was genuine as he rooted in his pocket to pull out a small paperback. “Offer stands. I don’t need much sleep these days, anyway.”

She watched him, unabashedly, as he turned to the book and flipped through until he found his page. Without thought she reached out, hand wrapping around his wrist to get his attention. He looked at her, but didn’t say anything.

“That meant a lot,” she managed to choke out, uncomfortable with the way the words made her feel exposed, but knowing she needed to make him understand how she felt, “what you said about us. You and me.”

The corner of his mouth ticked up. “Together against the world.”

“Yes,” she could feel the stress start to drain from her. “A team.” She took a slow, deep breath. It was like the worry, the anxiety of the last two days was getting left behind them with each passing second and each mile they put between the base and themselves, but she’d never been more serious. “I’m going to hold up my end, Steve, I promise.”

“I know you will,” he put down the book, flipping his hand and lacing their fingers together. “And I’ll keep up mine.”

~*~

She remembered holding his hand, contentedly, looking out the window and pretending she was watching the landscape pass them by while he read with one hand, but instead took the time to clock each and every passenger, to look them over in the reflection and try to gauge their threat level.

Somewhere after the pre-teen boy three rows up, she realized she had her head on his shoulder. It didn’t much seem to matter, though, as she could still hear him turning pages and they were supposed to be married, after all.

Just after the man two rows back, she thought that she’d just close her eyes for a minute.

Just one.

And five hours later, she woke up tucked into Steve’s side as the train slowed, chugging into the station.

~*~

They were hustled from the station to the theater by a small man with a pinched face, who seemed both annoyed by and indifferent to their presence. He assured them that their trunks would make it to their hotel room safely before he ushered them off the platform and into a small car.

She was both impressed and somewhat relieved that Steve managed to make his own fuss about the trunks as they were ushered off the train, she didn’t even need to speak a word on the subject.

They were quiet in the car, the trip quite a bit longer than they expected. “I thought we were going to be in DC?” Steve asked as the man navigated the streets.

“The show will open in DC, rehearsals are outside of the city,” the man replied. “Your hotel is close to the theater, don’t worry.” He grumbled, mumbling under his breath, “I know you’re worried about your trunks.”

Peggy tried to hold back her smile, but couldn’t. Steve gave her a gentle tap with his elbow, and she acknowledged his performance on the subject with a grateful bow of her head.

“How are you feeling?” He spoke softly. Even though they were bound to be overheard by their driver, who was under no obligation to keep anything he heard a secret, his soft voice went a long way to making the question feel at least a little private.

“Much better,” she replied just as quietly. “Suppose I was more tired than I thought.”

She expected a smile, or maybe a flirt- something he’d been more confident in over the last day- but instead he sobered and dropped his voice even lower. “I’m glad you felt safe enough. I always want you to feel safe with me.”

She couldn’t help but smile this time. “I do.”

~*~

It occurred to Peggy, as she walked into the theater, that she’d never been in one as something other than a patron. She’d gone for films and for the occasional play, even to hear concerts… but she’d never been in a theater where she wasn’t ushered to her seat and treated to a performance.

She was stunned as she followed Steve through the backstage area, stepping over coils of rope and avoiding scattered set-pieces that were half painted and half built. The bright white backstage lights were nothing compared to the colorful performance lights she was used to. She’d always thought theaters seemed too glamorous, so frivolous, and yet, there was exposed, dirty brick and sawdust everywhere. There wasn’t a luxurious velvet curtain in sight and instead it seemed little more than a warehouse with an audience.

It left her with an odd feeling of awareness, as if it was the first time she realized everything she’d seen on a stage really was just smoke and mirrors, sets and rigs and pulleys that made Peter Pan fly and Hamlet’s father rise from the grave. Seeing the lighting rigs bare overhead and the mess of lights and wires and rope on the stage made her feel a peculiar sensation, as if she was seeing something no one was ever meant to see.

“About six feet to the left!”

The shout pulled her out of her thoughts, and immediately reminded her that this was a place that posed an extreme danger for the both of them. The man who was shouting was a rotund man standing just below the stage, eyes on the two workers hanging a large American Flag from the rigging. He shook his head then caught sight of them, only looking slightly interested.

“You must be my headliners!” He gestured for their pinch-faced chauffeur to bring them down the stairs to him. He watched as Steve helped Peggy down the steep steps at the front of the stage with a hand, the raw wood wobbly. “Don’t worry about that,” he bellowed, “They may be unsteady, but they won’t be there for the show. Just while we’re getting the stage set up.” He shot a careful look over to where the men were hanging the flag, “It’s been busy around here since we got the rewrites.”

He held out his hand to Steve, “I’m Walter Pennington, Producer.”

“Steve Rogers,” He shook his hand, pulling back when he saw the man fight to keep a pleasant face at his strength. “And this is my wife, Peggy.”

Peggy knew right away what kind of man he was by the fact that he barely acknowledged her. No handshake, and barely even a nod. Instead, he kept his attention on Steve. It wasn’t that she wasn’t used to being looked over, but rather that it always stung.

“Well, they weren’t lying that you’re strong,” Walter said, flexing his hand a few times. “That’s good.” He took another short glance at Peggy. “We were surprised you’d want to bring the little lady with you, never mind incorporate her into the show.” He laughed, “I’m even more shocked Brandt went for it.”

Steve glanced over at Peggy. Neither of them had been briefed on what, exactly, Brant had told the people who were making the show, and she realized that her nap today really was lost time. They had no story put together and would be making things up as they went- at least for today.

That was always dangerous territory.

“Well, we’re still newlyweds,” Steve managed the reply fairly quickly, pulling Peggy into his side. “How could I leave a gal like this back home?”

She felt Steve’s hand just barely tighten at her shoulder, and she could tell he was just as uncomfortable with the man’s suggestive gaze as she was. “I guess not,” Pennington finally mumbled, though Peggy was sure there was something else he wanted to say.

Walter cleared his throat and finally looked at her face, addressing her directly. “I suppose we can work you into a few of the singing numbers, though that’s really up to the director.”

“I don’t sing,” she declared, arching an eyebrow at the man. His clothes said high class but the way he leered at her proved he hadn’t had a proper upbringing.

“Well, then,” he looked her up and down again, not hiding it, “At least you’ll look good in the kick line.”

Peggy wished she could punch him, the way he looked at her reminiscent of far too many men who thought they were better than her. She could feel Steve tensing up beside her. “And I don’t dance.”

He cleared his throat, crossing his arms. “Oh, you don’t, huh?” He leaned over to Steve, “What does she do?”

“Well, she…” Steve stuttered only for a second, thinking on his feet and smiling that boyish smile of his, “she’s swell at telling stories, pretty versatile, really, and just look at that smile!”

The producer turned his head back to her and she flashed him her best grin, trying her best to hide the disgust and sarcasm. “’Swell’ at telling stories?” He sighed. “I’m supposed to sell a great American hero who married a Brit?”

“I mean, we are allies,” Steve tried to rationalize.

Walter sighed, rubbing at his forehead. “What did Brandt think, you were going to stand on stage and smile? You might have a nice set of gams there, but that and a nickel will get you a cup of coffee.”

“I think you’ll find,” Peggy started loud, clear, and very American sounding, “that I can blend in quite well when necessary. I’m happy to affect any accent you’ll need for the stage, and do most anything except sing and dance.”

Walter looked up at Steve, obviously not used to being talked to in that manner by a woman, waiting for Steve to say something to her. Instead, he gave her a little squeeze and met the man’s confused gaze with a proud smirk. “That’s my girl!”

He wasn’t pleased, and he didn’t try to hide it. “Rehearsals start tomorrow, you’ll get your script then.”

“How long will we be here in rehearsals?” Steve asked, genuinely interested. Peggy wanted to know, too. They had woefully little information about the process.

“Three weeks of rehearsals then a soft opening run of four shows here. You open in DC for a week, then there’s a cross country schedule.” He tipped his head to their chauffeur who had stayed close. “Dave there will bring you to your hotel.”

Peggy almost smiled. Their pinch-faced man had a name. Dave.

“You need anything while you’re here, you ask Dave. Once you’re on the road, you’re on your own. Got it?”

“Yes, sir,” Steve replied, almost reflexively.

Walter looked him up and down once more. “Yeah, I think they’ll believe you belong in the army.” He turned away from them, mumbling as he left, “Damn government contract.”

Peggy had only the barest of moments to share a stunned look with Steve before they were interrupted by Dave, who stepped in front of them and motioned for them to follow him back through the audience.

~*~

Their hotel was not quite homey, but not quite bleak: two high towers full of rooms with a central connecting lobby filled with the dining room and common rooms. It was housing all the staff and performers for the show, most of whom, at least according to Dave, already knew each other from being on the performance circuit.

Steve unlocked their room, pocketing the key and swinging open the door wide. It wasn’t much: pale cream colors on the walls and faded floral bedsheets with matching curtains, a worn loveseat and a tiny table with two unsteady chairs. The bathroom was small, but having their own private one was a luxury.

“Not too bad,” Steve mused, walking around. He patted the tops of their trunks, sitting across from the bed. “How do you think they fared?”

“Well enough, I’m sure.” Peggy smiled just a little, eyes falling on the single bed. “Better than a tent on the front,” she mused.

He chuckled a little, shoving his hands in his pocket. “Very big upgrade,’ he agreed. “Should we unpack?”

Peggy held up her hand, her wife façade falling and the agent taking over, serious and stoic. She pulled a small black box from her purse and flicked a small button, moving it up and down as she slowly side stepped her way through the room. She slid it over the dresser and under the bed, in the small shower stall and behind the toilet. Finally, she sighed happily, clicking the box off and gesturing to the room. “Proceed.”

He didn’t move, but rather pointed to the box in her hand. “What was that?”

“One of Howard’s designs,” she held it up, admiring it with a small smile. She tapped the small, dark bulb on the end. “It lights up in the presence of an electronic listening device.”

Steve looked around the room, crestfallen that he had been so blindly trusting of their accommodations. “So… we’re good?”

“For bugs? Yes. Though the walls seem about as thick as a piece of parchment, so we should get used to keeping our voices down.”

His shoulders fell just a bit more as the whole thing became just a little more real to him. “You… you really think I’m in danger here?”

Her lips pressed tight as she looked up to him, she forced the tiniest of smiles. “I think that Colonel Phillips is one of the smartest men I’ve ever worked with, and despite his misgivings about you, he’s a keen judge of people. I also think that if the goal was to simply guard you or keep you safe, not only are there many other people besides myself who can do that job, it could be easily accomplished by putting you in a cell in Alamogordo. The Colonel has a great distrust of Senator Brandt, and made sure I was the one sent with you. Brandt didn’t make that pick, no matter how he tried to sell it- Phillips did. He told me himself.” She took a deep breath. “He had this show all ready for you to go in to without more than a day’s notice, and is a main suspect in how that Hydra Agent got past our defenses. Whatever’s going on, Phillips wasn’t just trusting anyone with this, and I’m not going to take any of it lightly.”

He was silent for a moment, taking in all he hadn’t known: that Phillips picked Peggy, not Brandt, and that Brandt was a suspect for being in cahoots with Hydra. “Thank you,” he finally whispered out, forcing himself to move on. “I guess… I guess we should get unpacked.”

Peggy shook her head, “Only the littlest bit. If we make it look like we’re living out of the trunks, it’s less suspicious that we’re not unpacking two of them.”

He nodded, undoing the straps on the top one and opened it, moving aside to let Peggy see the artillery had made it safe and sound. “We should put these on the bottom, I think, and ours on top so it’ll be harder for anyone to snoop.”

Peggy smiled up at him, proud. “Thinking like a spy already!” She reached in and pulled out a small handgun and a little filled canvas bag. “That should do for now, make sure those straps are tight.”

Peggy set her bounty on the counter and moved to the second trunk as Steve tightened the straps and moved it deeper in the room, setting it in the back corner, then grabbing another trunk and stacking it on top of it. Peggy pulled out a pair of retractable batons and the boxes of clothes Howard had sent with them, setting those on the counter as well. When she turned back, Steve was at the edge of the bed, holding a small, wrapped package, looking more than a little bashful.

“I, uh…” he laughed nervously, looking down at his toes. “This seemed like a good idea at the time, but uh, seems corny now.”

“What is it?” Peggy asked softly, taking a small step closer and fighting to keep her hands from fidgeting in the folds of her skirt.

Steve turned red, but met her eyes with a big smile that reminded her of the one she’d seen on him at the beginning of basic training. “A wedding present.”

She swallowed, hard. “I… I haven’t gotten you anything.” The retort seemed silly, even to her ears, but it somehow relaxed him.

“I didn’t expect you to. I just…” He shrugged and stepped forward, holding it out. “Here.”

She took it in her hands, soft and light, and let her fingers run over the brown paper wrapping and the little blue ribbon bow around it. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d gotten a properly wrapped present. She realized she was taking her time, and looked up at him, smiling. “Thank you,” she almost whispered, still surprised.

He shoved his hands back in his pockets, shoulders up to his ears. Slowly she pulled at the bow, and separated the paper to reveal a piece of black fabric that looked suspiciously like a garter belt, but with a little more fabric to it. She looked up at him, his cheeks slowly burning red with embarrassment. “A garter?”

“It’s- it’s a holster.” He reached out one hand, almost touching it, then pulling back. “Or it’s supposed to be, anyway.” He cleared his throat and fought for composure. “After you left Howard’s lab yesterday he mentioned that his butler’s wife was a seamstress and had done the majority of the sewing for the… stuff he gave you.” Peggy fought to not laugh at how cute he was, struggling around the topic. “Anyway, he seemed to think there was some left, so I asked if she could make you something nice. Anna seemed to think you’d find this more useful.”

That caught her up short, even as she pulled the holster up to look at it. “She knows?”

Steve shrugged. “I was as surprised as you are, but apparently all she knows is that the fabric Howard gave her is supposed to be a lighter version of armor, and she figured if you’d need armor you’d need this.” One side of his lips turned up. “Sounded like a good idea, to me.”

Peggy smiled. The holster was genius: made out of the same protective fabric that the stockings and slips were made of, it would lay extremely flat against her thigh and the flap at the top would keep the shape from being too conspicuous. She’d been worried how she was going to keep a firearm on her when she needed to be on stage, and this had just made it very, very easy. “This is wonderful, Steve. Thank you.”

“You like it?” He sounded like a hopeful little boy.

Peggy bent over and slid it up her leg, reaching out and settling the small handgun she’d pulled from the trunk in it. “I love it!” She let her skirt fall back over her legs, and noticed that he’d looked away while her bare thigh was on display. She spun, letting the skirt settle. “Can you tell it’s there?”

He looked, swallowing as he stared at her legs. “Uh, no. No, I can’t.”

She smiled brightly. “Then it’s perfect.”

~*~

Peggy felt better with the gun nestled against her thigh as they walked down to the lobby. With the entirety of the show’s cast and crew staying at the hotel, they were providing breakfast and dinner each day. Steve and Peggy stopped at the double doors of the small banquet room, watching the people, most of whom seemed to know one another, hustle around the large buffet and bounce from table to table, chatting.

“Not too much different from the mess, I guess.” Steve mumbled, tugging at his shirt sleeves. The civilian clothes he changed into fit him tight across the shoulders, almost too tight, and the pants were too big by at least two sizes. Most of the clothes he brought with him needed tailoring, badly, but they were all he could piece together on short notice.

He’d only had this physique for less than a week, after all, and none of his old clothes fit. Even the socks were too small.

Peggy slipped her arm through his, setting them forward. “Stay close, please.”

“Not a problem,” he mumbled, trying to force smiles as they moved through the room. It was easy enough, stepping in line and filling plates. No one questioned that they were supposed to be there as everyone was enthralled in their own dinner conversations. Peggy struggled to split her attention, eyeing each performer in the room, looking for someone whose gaze lingered just a little too long or whose eyebrows knit a little too deeply, while trying to decide what to eat. Apparently, rationing wasn’t quite as bad here as it was in London, and nowhere near what it had been on the front lines. Bowls and platters were full of chicken and mashed potatoes and rolls and butter and there were little cakes at the end of the line that made her do a double take.

She hadn’t seen a proper dessert in months.

“Bloody Nora,” she mumbled, trying to keep from letting her eyes pile more than she could eat on her plate.

“Yeah, it’s a good spread,” Steve whispered beside her, not being shy about piling his plate high. “Better than rations, huh?”

She carefully picked out just one of the little finger cakes at the end of the table and looked up at him, astounded. “Does everyone in America eat like this?”

“This?” He laughed a little, taking his own cake and then following her to a corner where there was a free table. “No. This is pretty extravagant.” He set his plate down, noticing she set them in the corner, where they’d both have a good line of vision to keep nearly the whole dining room in view. “I’ll go grab us some drinks. Water? Tea?”

“Water, please” she replied, still a little shell shocked. She watched him take the few steps to another table and fill two tall glasses and she unfurled her napkin and revealed the silverware that had been waiting for them on the table. The room still buzzed, but she could see that it was with a jovial familiarity. People were talking like old friends, making new friends, smiling and laughing.

The mood, and the food, was a far cry from the front she’d grown used to during her time with the SSR. She wasn’t sure if that made things better or worse. It certainly made her anxious.

Steve slid in across from her, setting her glass down. He smiled and pulled out his silverware, taking no time before tucking into his food. He stopped a few bites in when he realized she hadn’t started. He hurriedly wiped his mouth like a little kid and sat up tall. “Did… did you want to say grace or something?”

“No, sorry,” Peggy lifted her fork and tried to smile. “Just… people watching, I suppose.”

He started eating again, this time a little slower, with his eyes on her more often. “Did you… notice anything?”

Peggy swallowed and dabbed at her lips, moving her peas around her plate with the fork. “No, which bothers me.” She sighed quietly, leaning in towards him, “I’m used to knowing more about the situations I’m headed into. We know nothing about these people. I don’t even know who could be lying about who they are because I don’t have any dossiers on them at all.”

“Brandt didn’t give you any of that stuff?” Steve asked, his eyebrow knitting as he speared a piece of chicken.

She shook her head, chewing a forkful of potatoes thoughtfully. “I suppose I could get their bios and headshots somehow, but it still gives us little to go on.”

Steve tapped the fork against his lips, looking around. “What if… what if it’s not anyone here?” He turned back to her. “Wouldn’t it be easier to be an audience member?”

Peggy sipped on her water, nodding. “Could do, yeah.” She looked around, too, picking at her chicken that had seemed so appetizing just a few minutes ago. “Easy in and out. But if it were me? Someone in the show would be invaluable.”

“Like you,” Steve mumbled, looking at his plate and shoving a big forkful in his lips before he could say anymore.

Peggy’s heart skipped a beat, but before she could reply, a shadow slid over them. They both looked up to a bright, smiling face. “So, you must be the guy?”

“Excuse me?” Steve swallowed hard.

“Like, the guy, right? As in Mister Captain America?” She smiled and pulled the chair behind her up to the table. “I’m Angie,” she held out her hand, waiting for Steve to take it.

“Steve.” His handshake was tentative, but that didn’t seem to deter her.

She turned right away and held it out to Peggy, too. “And you must be the Missus!”

“Peggy,” she swallowed the mouthful of food she’d forgotten about, pulling her free hand to cover her mouth as she shook Angie’s hand. “Sorry, you surprised me.”

“Me?” Angie chuckled, eyes wide as she looked Peggy over. “You’re the surprise!” She let her voice drop, telling Peggy a secret she knew Steve could hear. “I mean, I was cast as Betty Carver, so I was a little disappointed when I heard I was getting dropped down to feature.”

Peggy watched Angie’s face fall when neither she nor Steve seemed to react to that. “I’m sorry, am I supposed to know who that is?” Peggy shrugged, trying to play it off as being dim. “We haven’t been given a script yet.”

Angie’s face went from disappointed to outraged. “You haven’t been…” Her mouth worked in disbelief as she looked between the two of them. “Who is your agent? We’ve all had the songs and script for weeks now!”

Peggy felt the sentence hit her like a punch in the gut: whatever Brandt had been planning, it had been going on for weeks, not days. Though they’d both known this couldn’t have been put together in the last few days, the realization that there was already a plan to center around some ultra-strong American hero bothered her deeply. She tried hard not to react to the plain panic in Steve’s eyes while Angie’s face was still on her. She made a snap decision, and decided the more honest they were, the better. “Agent? Why- the US Army, of course!”

Angie laughed, brushing Peggy’s comment away with her hand. “You’re funny! No- come on- tell me so we can help you guys get it all straightened out!” Angie’s smile faded as she watched Peggy’s straight face barely move. “Wait- you’re- you’re serious.”

“Yes.”

“But- this… this is a show. Why would the Army…” She looked between the two of them, truly confused.

Steve cleared his throat and stepped in. “There, uh, was an accident.” He looked down, and kept his eyes averted in a way that Peggy knew meant he was uncomfortable with what he was doing. “I couldn’t serve the way I wanted to, and some of the higher ups thought that this might be the best place for me.”

Peggy watched Angie’s face as she shifted uncomfortably. The young woman clearly hadn’t been prepared for what she thought was an injured veteran before her. Peggy reached out and took Steve’s hand, letting her thumb rub over the knuckle. “We’re very lucky to be here right now,” she nearly whispered, proud of how he’d managed to play his role.

“Oh my gosh, I am so sorry!” Angie, for her part, was now mortified, hands covering her mouth as she looked at the two of them. “You’re… wait- are you really married, too? I thought I just got re-cast!”

“What?” Peggy’s head swung around quickly.

“Betty Carver was supposed to be the love interest- the home front girlfriend of Captain America.” She rolled her eyes, talking out loud to herself. “I mean, I was thrown for a loop when I came over here and you were English! Couldn’t figure out why they’d recast the home front girl with an English gal, but…” She softened and turned, smiling genuinely. “Well, I guess it all makes a lot more sense, now.” She looked over at Steve. “You were really a soldier?”

He nodded, and Peggy pushed forward with the charade, skirting the line of reality as close as she could. “It’s how we met.”

Angie’s smile melted even further. “That’s so sweet. I wish I had a guy to write.” She shrugged, and switched gears quickly. “So, wait- you mean you’re really fresh out of the Army, no script or nothin’?”

“Nothin,” Steve confirmed.

“Well, you stick with me. I’ll show you the ropes, introduce you to everyone. Most of us have been taking gigs together for years now. After a while rehearsing and once we’re on the road we’ll be one big family.”

~*~

“I can sleep on the floor,” Steve said warmly, feeling gallant as he took a pillow from the bed even though he was drained from the way Angie had dragged them around the dining room, introducing them to nearly the entire cast.

Peggy pulled it from his hands and tossed it back on the bed. “Absolutely not.” Steve only knitted his brow at her. “The windows face the other side of the hotel. Even with the curtains drawn you can still see shapes. Plus, now that Angie’s introduced us around, I doubt she, or any of them really, will be too shy about stopping by. One overly nosy chorus girl sees you on the floor and starts talking and our cover is blown.”

Steve wasn’t convinced, and looked nervous now. “Still, I didn’t want to—"

“My modesty will survive if yours will.” She set her hands on her hips and looked at him, finding herself tired and frustrated after the afternoon they’d had. “One overly eager bell boy or maid comes in and finds you out of the bed, and we’re in the gossip mill. One wrong word to the wrong person, and this all goes south, you know that.”

He grabbed the pillow back from the bed, just as obstinate. “I don’t sleep that much anyway, it won’t bother me, Peg.”

Peggy shook her head, closing the tiny amount of space between them. “You and me, together against the world, right? But let’s get one thing straight, shall we? My official mission is to make sure you don’t get killed. If you die, I’ve failed,” she paused and smiled proudly, “and I never fail. Even more so than that,” she sighed, her eyes turning softer, “I’m quite fond of you, and I would very much appreciate you not dying.”

“Fond?” Steve nearly squeaked out.

Peggy smiled. Perhaps they’d been dancing about this too much, because his shock, after everything they’d said to each other this afternoon, was not the response she expected to her words. “Yes. Fond. So much so, in fact, that I might even let you take me on a date once this is all over.”

Steve flustered, surprised as he stuttered out, “D-date?” He cleared his throat and composed himself, nodding and looking anywhere but at her. “I mean, yeah. No. I’d love to take you out.” He took a breath and slowed himself down. “I’m… fond, too.”

Peggy smiled, turning her back, ignoring that he turned a deep shade of red. “Affection aside, we need to be comfortable with one another in public for strategic purposes: holding hands, casual touches, even kissing.” He’d very nearly gotten himself under control when she said that and she could see how hard he fought to keep his face from turning red again as she pulled the pillow from his hand, gentler this time. “When people see us, they need to believe we’re a couple, no matter if we love one another or can’t stand each other. Understood?”

He nodded swiftly.

She tossed the pillow down. “Now get in bed.”

He stared blankly at her for a second before sitting on the side of the bed, still fully dressed. “Did you… want to go to bed?” He asked cautiously.

She huffed, sitting heavily next to him. “No,” she admitted. “We need to talk this through. We can’t afford to get the details messed up. We came close a few times today already.”

Steve nodded. “I know. I tried to keep it as close to what really happened as I could, so we couldn’t mess it up, but—”

“No, that was good.” Peggy kicked off her heels and slid back on the bed, tucking her legs under her. “The closer we keep it to reality, the less details we have to remember. But the timeline is off. It’ll be what gets us caught.”

“Because according to the papers we were married before we even met.”

“Exactly.” She nibbled at her thumbnail, turning away to think. “And you were on the European Front. We need to figure out just exactly what your accident was, once these people get comfortable with us—”

“Angie’s already quite comfortable,” Steve mumbled.

Peggy hummed in agreement before continuing, “Once they get more comfortable, they’re not going to hold their questions for long. And it isn’t as if you’ve got anything overtly wrong that would take you off the front lines.”

Steve nodded. “They’re keeping every able-bodied soldier out there. It’s gotta be convincing.”

“Well, we should be able to fend off questions at least for a bit.” Peggy shifted, looking him over seriously.

Steve squirmed under her gaze. “What?”

“Just thinking,” she sighed, forcing her eyes to his. “If you were in your old body, we’d have no trouble passing you off as discharged.”

His laugh was somewhat self-deprecating. “If I were in my old body we wouldn’t be here.”

Peggy looked him over again, her eyes very pointedly popping up from the bed they were both sitting on once her gaze rested there. “Oh, I don’t know about that.”

His jaw fell, more out of surprise than anything, and he was even more surprised to see a bright red tint start to shade in around Peggy’s cheeks. She cleared her throat and looked away. “Goodness only knows how people get places, yes?” she asked quickly, pushing through the heavy seriousness that had fallen over them both. She stood, pacing with newfound energy as she tried to halt the images of just what they could do in a bed together. “What if you were in your old body? What could we say was the reason?”

Steve switched trains of thought with her easily, shrugging and curling over, so reminiscent of the frail boned boy he’d once been. “Gosh, take your pick. I’ll start with the A’s: anemia, asthma, angina, all kinds a’ scrawny… then there’s the scoliosis, high blood pressure, constant sinus infections. I had scarlet fever, then rheumatic fever…. Nothing ever felt the same after that.” He almost jumped when he looked up to see she’d managed to creep so close to him that she was leaning in only inches away from his face, staring, fascinated. “What?”

The amazed look on her face never faltered. “How did you ever manage Basic Training?”

He laughed nervously, the corner of his mouth quirking up as he shrugged. “You were there. You know I barely made it through most of the time.”

Her amazement shifted to pride. “Sheer force of will, I imagine, was the only thing between you and collapsing on that field.”

“Probably more often than you’d know.”

Peggy stood slowly and resumed her pacing. “Asthma would work.”

“They catch that right away. No hiding it. I never would have made it past the recruitment center. In fact, there were five times I didn’t.” She hummed, leaning back on her trunk, still looking him over. Steve tried no to hide from her intense gaze. “You know, that’s getting a little…”

Peggy turned her eyes down, shaking her head. “Sorry. Can’t help it.” She looked back up and smiled. “Seems Erskin’s serum worked a bit too well.”

~*~

Peggy stepped out of the bathroom, pin curls hidden under her kerchief, face scrubbed clean with just a light sheen of moisturizer on, her robe covering the only nightgown she had. She smiled when she saw Steve’s back, his face turned carefully away as he sat on his side of the bed. “You can look, you know.”

“I, uh,” as he cleared his throat she could see the pink creeping up his neck, “I didn’t want to presume.”

“I’m sorry to say that there’s nothing scandalous about me without my make-up or with my hair pinned for the night.” She carefully sat on her side of the bed, smiling as his shoulders tensed when he felt the mattress move. “Though I am in a nightgown, I wasn’t allowed to keep the army-issued pajamas.” He slowly turned, looking over, relaxing a little once he saw her. “What?” She chuckled, “Was that all that bad?”

“I just… I didn’t want to presume…”

“You said that already,” she smiled, unable to see anything else but the stammering 98-pound man across from her in the back of the car.

“I know, but it seemed…” he huffed, shrugging.

“You’re not scandalized?” she teased.

He smiled softly. “You look like my Ma.” Her eyes widened and he threw his hands up, rushing to explain. “No, I just, I thought you’d be- I don’t know, more- but not like- no, and then I turned and you were just- normal.” His hands started flying and his eyes darted back and forth as he panicked, words spilling from his lips that didn’t make any of his stuttering confessions better. “But no, not like that. Not normal. You’re pretty. I just assumed you’d be more since I imagined—not that I want more, you’re enough. But I saw you like that with the kerchief and that was just how my Ma used to do her hair and—” His eyes widened comically large, “No! I do not think of my Ma like that. Not that I did or would, but I thought of you like that—”

“You have?” she interrupted, completely amused and charmed at his stammering.

“I have!” He announced, proud, before he realized what he’d said, his face falling again and the stammering resuming. “No, it’s just that, I respect you. A lot. And you’re gorgeous. And we are married, but not for real so then I shouldn’t—”

“Steve!” Peggy smiled, put a hand on his. “Breathe!” He stopped his disjointed rant, looking at her and finally taking a deep breath in, eyes wild with pleading for understanding. “It’s alright. I understand what you’re trying to say.”

“Good,” he chuckled, turning more completely to her, “because I sure don’t.”

Peggy laughed lightly, taking her hands from his. “I believe I have an unfair advantage here as I’ve already seen you without your shirt, and ladies do tend to have quite a few tricks up their sleeves.”

He looked sheepish, swinging his pajama clad legs on the bed, eyes focused on his threadbare undershirt. “I’ve heard fellas say that they’ve seen their girls without make-up and their hair done and they look completely different. Made them not want to date them.”

Peggy shrugged her robe off, setting it on the chair next to the bed. Her nightgown wasn’t exactly revealing, she had dresses with lower necklines, but it was thinned from use and age and she didn’t have another. His eyes traveled her form, and she pretended not to notice as she pulled down the blanket and slipped into the bed. “And do I?”

“No.” He smiled, turning away to click off the lamp to hide his expression. “You’re…” he looked down, trying to pick his words carefully, “just as beautiful.”

Peggy bit her lip, unsure of how to respond as he slipped in the bed, the pillow between them separating their sides. “That’s a kind assessment,” she finally whispered into the darkness.

“It’s the truth,” he whispered back. “Good night, Peggy,” he added gently, looking over the pillow that separated them, the compromise they’d made to keep him off the floor and somehow save her virtue.

“Good night, Steve,” she whispered back, completely sure she’d have quite the difficult time sleeping now that she knew that unlike Fred, he didn’t seem to mind her as she looked not so done up.

[fandomfluffandfuck]

Thinking about Chris coming home from filming Captain America: The First Avenger to spend some time at home, ending up gushing to Scott about his guy, this sweet kid, that he got to act across from--Sebastian. Scott listens for a while, but before long, he has to interrupt and ask if there was literally anything else interesting about the shoot other than his crush. Chris stumbles. His crush? Scott nods, "Sebastian, duh." Chris keeps fumbling, starting and stopping. He doesn't--he's not. He doesn't swing that way. He's not gay. He sincerely, deeply thought about it when Scott came out to him. And he isn’t. He just likes the guy. Like, as a friend! Scott shrugs it off with a smile that's far too knowing. Chris kind of wants to wrestle him to the ground over that look. C'mon, he knows what he's feeling!

It takes until after the press tour for CA:TFA is over for Chris to ask Scott, okay, if I were to try to woo a guy... how might I do that? Is it any different than how I'd approach a girl?

Scott refuses to help Chris with his game. Look, Chris has everything, he's smart, he's good-looking, he's jacked, he's tall, his career is taking off, everyone likes him, he doesn't need game, too. Besides, it's too much fun to watch him trip over his own feet over this guy that, admittedly, yeah, is very handsome.

[nancydrewwouldnever]

He had multiple girlfriends during CA:TFA?? Lmaooo I remember when he was doing press for WYN with Anna, she mentioned one of her friends who tried to make a list of the guys she slept with but couldn’t remember them all and Chris was like ‘what’s her name’ 🤣🤣I think this was his peak slut days because I have a feeling before cap, he didn’t get as many ladies as we would think imo

There were at least two overlapping women on the West Coast in July 2011, the time of the CA:TFA premiere. Assuming there was probably at least one on the East Coast too, lol.

[buckybeardreams]

Stucky Master List

My full master list can be found here

Series

Only Mine (Pre-WWII A/B/O)

Playing Mates (Pre-WWII A/B/O)

The Errors of Our Ways is that I Love You (Pre-WWII -> Post-CA:CW)

Lawless Lands and Weathered Skin (Western AU)

Spooked (NSAP)

Insatiable (Dark A/B/O)

Multi-Chaptered:

You're Safe With Me (Trans!Steve Arranged Marriage Royalty AU)

Definitely Not (Werewolf AU)

Too Cool For You (High School AU)

Milk him for all he's worth (Pre-WWII)

Oneshots:

Snowed In (Pre-WWII)

Captain America's Brat (Shrunkclunks)

Steve's Favorite Distraction

Telecompanions (Identity Porn Phone Sex Operator AU)

Just The Standard Post-Mission Inspection (Post-Avengers)

Star Spangled Bottom (WWII)

Now You're Mine (Sex Worker AU)

Sunburnt Ass

The Unwanted Neighbor (Neighbors AU)

Steve's Love of Panty Lines (Crack Air Force AU)

The Surprise Party (Post-CA:TWS)

Always (Pre-WWII -> Post-CA:TWS Canon Divergence)

Pet Jealousy (Post-CA:TWS)

You Can Tell Me Anything (Post-CA:TWS Canon Divergence)

Dreams of Bondage

Forgiveness is Born of Kindness (Poly Canon Divergence)

Just a little ghost story (CA:TFA Canon Divergence)

Snippets:

Just A Kiss (High School AU)

Clumsy Dances (Pre-WWII)

Toasty Warm (Post-CA:TWS Canon Divergence)

Warm (Pre-WWII)

Plant Protective Services (Crack)

Mr. Rogers' Fantasy (Teachers AU)

Our Own Little Fairytale (Merbucky AU)

Tony's Christmas Tree (Kid Tony xmas)

Kind Lies (Post-CA:TWS)

Failed Plans

James (A/B/O)

Only Tolerable With You Pressed Up Against Me

They met in art class

Heartbreak for Christmas (xmas)

[liquidlightz]

The CA:TFA missing scene... 💞 

Felt like I hadn’t done any canon stucky in a while!  It was past due 🙃

Image Described below...

[Begin ID:  Digital artwork of Captain Steve Rogers and Sergeant James “Bucky” Barnes in a low-lit bar, wearing their green army uniforms, and engaged in a romantic kiss reminiscent of golden-age movies.  Steve is towering over Bucky, his head bent down to kiss him.  They are both slightly smiling as their lips meet.  Bucky's head is tilted back and resting against Steve's left hand at his neck, his body low and leaning backwards, with their chests pressing against each other.  Bucky's left hand is pulling on Steve's jacket lapel, while his right hand is wrapped around his neck.  Steve's right hand wraps above Bucky's waist, pulling him in.  Beside them is a bar table with an abandoned full beer glass, and on the far wall behind them is a Captain America tour poster and a dart board.  /end ID]

✨

My Bingo fills : 

@stuckybingo​ - Card SB066, square N3 : free space

@buckybarnesbingo​ - Card B073, square U1 : image prompt of Bucky in uniform 

✨

[perfectpaperbluebirds]

VapoRub

@sicktember 2022 Alt Prompt #2

Fandom/OCs: MCU Avengers, Sick!1940’s Bucky

Title: All For You

Words: 1139

Inspiration: This prompt about Bucky with a winter cold from the docks and the post about “I don’t like the sound of that cough/Thanks I’ve been practicing all day” that I can’t find :( 

Author’s comments: This is the first Sicktember fic I wrote strangely enough. Looking at a list of 30 prompts is a tad overwhelming even if you have a plan for all of them, so while I went in order most of the rest of the month, this is the one that jumped out at me to help dip my toes in. Set before the events of CA:TFA obviously. Canon 1940’s Stucky (could be read as a ship or platonic, I kept it generic on purpose)

The door to the apartment clattered open with a bang and a roar of wind, making Steve jump and almost drop his drawing pad off the couch. 

"Sorry, sorry. Wind," Bucky called hoarsely, slamming the door behind himself as he entered. "Didn't mean to scare you."

Steve stood up, wrapping his blanket around himself more snugly, and went to greet the other man. However, before Steve could approach, Bucky turned away to sneeze thickly into his elbow which he then followed up with a rattling cough. He turned back to the smaller man, red-faced and teary-eyed, but keeping his distance.

"Stay away, Stevie," Bucky croaked, scrubbing his face with his sleeve. "I caught something nasty at the docks. Don't want you to catch it."

Steve glanced out the window at the howling winter storm that was picking up. "I'm sure whatever you caught got a lot worse from you working outside, too."

"Wouldn't doubt it," Bucky sniffled, pulling off his boots with trembling hands.

"Oh Buck, you're shivering. I kept soup warm on the stove. Do you want some?"

"Please. And coffee," Bucky said thickly.

"Coming right up. Go sit down on the couch, right by the radiator." 

"That's your spot."

"Tonight it's your spot."

If Bucky was going to reply, he was unable to as he was overcome with a messy sneezing fit just then. Steve took the opportunity to head to the kitchen and start the coffee, calling out a blessing from there. When he emerged a few minutes later, Bucky had made it to the couch, and was huddled on the far side, looking miserable and still shivering as he coughed harshly. Steve stood, waiting expectantly. Bucky gave him a questioning look, rubbing his chest as the coughing subsided.

"Move over. Closer to the heat," Steve directed.

"Steve–"

"Buck. Slide over. I'm not arguing about it. You're freezing, and I'm fine right now."

Bucky hesitated, and almost argued again, but with a sigh he finally complied. Steve handed him the mug of coffee and set down the soup, then went to fetch an extra blanket. As he returned, Bucky was coughing yet again, harsh and gasping. 

"I don't like the sound of that cough one bit," Steve tsked, spreading the blanket over Bucky's lap as he sat down beside him and pressed a hand to the sick man's flushed face. 

"Don't you? I've been practicing all day," Bucky croaked, pulling away from Steve's hand. 

"Been practicing that fever, too? Because that's pretty impressive as well."

"That's… a recent development," Bucky muttered. "Which is why you really need to stay away. I don't want to know what'll happen to you if you catch this."

"My guess is you actually caught this from me and you working at the docks made it worse. I was sick just last week, remember? Still on antibiotics and everything. So you don't need to worry about me for once." 

Bucky grunted, though whether it was in agreement or dissent it was hard to say, mainly because he was hitching into a sneeze at the same time:

"Khhpt'TTZZSSHuuh! TZZSSHOO!"

"Bless you," Steve murmured, handing him a handkerchief.

"Thangks," Bucky mumbled around a cough, burying his face in the linen to catch the rest of the chesty fit.

"You sound just awful. What's bothering you the worst? How can I help?"

"The cough's the worst. Makes everything hurt, down to my bones."

"I can help with a cough," Steve said, bouncing up excitedly. "We have cough syrup. Oh! And that fancy salve you got last time I had bronchitis, that VapoRub."

"I'll try anything," Bucky croaked miserably. "Long as it'll give me a chance at getting some sleep."

"Yeah, of course. Let me grab it!" Steve dashed off to the bathroom, leaving Bucky to try to get more comfortable on the couch, leaning back and closing his eyes. It really was pleasantly warm on this side of the couch. He'd have to remember to thank Steve for giving up his spot.

Steve was back in no time, holding both medicines. Bucky swallowed the cough syrup without much fuss, washing it down with the rest of his coffee. Meanwhile Steve seated himself on the couch beside the sick man once more. 

"Okay, now lie down right here with your shirt off," Steve directed

"In your lap?" Bucky confirmed, looking skeptical.

Steve nodded. "I think that'll be the best way for me to easily reach your chest."

"I dunno, Stevie…."

"Just trust me."

Bucky sighed but did as he was asked, breaking out in gooseflesh as the air hit his feverish skin. Steve began to apply the salve right away with focused gentleness. Bucky's eyes slipped shut right away under the soothing touch. His skin was roastingly warm, and his congested breathing loud in the quiet room. Steve tried to keep himself from worrying as he spread a good layer of VapoRub over Bucky's chest. 

Bucky seemed to slip into a doze and Steve didn't remove his hands for quite a while, not wanting to disturb him. However, when Steve finally stilled, Bucky's eyes opened immediately, meeting Steve's.

"How's that feel?" Steve asked.

"Better. Helps, I think. Feel like I can breathe a little easier," Bucky said with a yawn.

"Good. That's good," Steve said encouragingly, closing the jar. "Anything else I can do?"

Bucky shook his head wearily. "Just need to sleep. Maybe under a few extra blankets."

Steve quickly pulled the blanket up to Bucky's chin. "Anything you need." He was quiet for a moment. "You know, it's strange being on the other side. I'm always the one that's sick. But you can feel helpless being the healthy one too, can't you? I never realized."

Bucky smiled tiredly. "You get used to it. Especially taking care of a punk kid like you who always manages to get super sick, then get better somehow. You learn to live with it."

"Super sick,"Steve repeated humorlessly. "The only super I'll ever be."

Bucky gave him a long look. "What about super tired? Because that's what I am." Bucky slowly sat up with another deep cough. "Let's go to bed, Stevie. Things will be better in the morning."

"My ma used to say that," Steve said, also standing and stretching.

"It's what you always say to me when you're sick and tired," Bucky yawned, shuffling toward the bedroom.

"So it is," Steve agreed. "And it's always true." 

"Well between the VapoRub and that ritual, I just hope I'm feeling better after some shut-eye." Bucky stifled another cough, pressing a hand to his chest as he did. 

"If you need anything tonight, you wake me up, okay? Anything at all. I'm here for you."

"To the end of the line, right?" Bucky said with a small smile.

"To the end of the line."

[misscaptainamericana]

                                            Steve Rogers x Reader

Summary - You are working as a barista working in New York after the events of CA:TFA but before The Avengers. It’s the gap of time where they were trying to let Steve adjust to the times. He stops into your coffee shop every morning before he goes out to explore the city. 

Word Count - 1203

Author’s Note - This is for @thefanbasewhore​ ‘s writing challenge :) I chose the coffee shop trope, obviously. 

Coffee shop: Character A meets Character B and falls madly in love with them.

                                                    Butterscotch

You started off your mornings the way you normally do, alarm goes off at four, it takes twenty minutes to get ready and then a forty minute commute to your job. It was a nice little local coffee shop you have been working at since high school. Now a twenty-something, you were entrusted to open the shop and be lead barista in the morning. 

Can I have a coffee?” 

“Yeah, sure what size?” 

Steve looked up at you confused, “Just a cup of coffee.” 

“Right, do you want a small, medium, or large cup?” You asked before pointing over to the cup display to your right. 

“Oh, I-uh-a medium. Medium is good, thank you.” 

“Just a normal black coffee or do you want a latte?” 

Steve looked up at the menu before looking back down to you, “I hate to say it but your menu is a little daunting.” 

You peered over your shoulder at the menu, “Well, I could make it simpler for you if you would like.” You looked back over at him with a smile.

“Uhm, sure if you aren’t too busy.” 

“First morning rush is over, we have some time.” You reassured him before going into your long explanation. “There is the regular black coffee that you would get anywhere. Cold brew is like stronger coffee; it's cold and pressed. A latte is steamed milk with a shot of espresso and a cappuccino is that with a layer of foam on top. An americano is a shot of espresso and water. A macchiato is a shot of espresso over milk. And basically a mocha is anything with a hot chocolate base instead of milk. There are these things called frappes, which is blended ice coffee, but we don’t do that here. It’s basically just a lot of different ways to drink coffee.” You looked back at the wide eyed man across the counter with a smile as he cleared his throat. 

He had stopped listening a while ago, he was distracted watching her ramble on about coffee with  a smile.

 “Right, well, how about I take my normal coffee today and when I come back tomorrow you can surprise me with something from that long list?” 

“That sounds like a great plan, It’ll be right up.” 

You quickly poured some coffee into a medium cup before putting the lid on it and setting it next to the cash register, “That’ll be two dollars.” 

Steve handed her a five dollar bill, “You can keep the change. Um, I’m Steve.” 

You took the money with a smile, “Well thank you Steve, I’m Y/N.” 

“Y/N…” He smiled, “I’ll see you tomorrow.” 

The week went by so quickly. Each time the bell chimed you turned your head to the door to see if it was him. It had become a fun gaYou almost came in on your day off because you were so excited to see him again. 

“What do you have for me today?” You sighed, “I’m so sorry, you had every type of coffee we have both hot and iced. I don’t have anything else I can offer you.

His breath caught in his throat and he felt his heart skip a few beats.

Was that it? Really? You listed off so many in the beginning he thought he had so much more time.

Steve nodded while clearing his throat and looked around the coffee shop before something caught his eye, “Oh, wait! What are those?” 

You turned around to follow his gaze before letting out a small laugh, “Oh, those are our syrups. You can flavor the coffee to make it taste better.”

“Can I… try them as well?” 

How could you say no to that smiling face?

“Of course! Do you know which style of coffee you liked the most for me to put it in?” 

“Well, which one is your favorite?” “The iced macchiatos.” “Then let’s try it.” Steve said with a shy smile tucking his hands in his pockets.

“We have almond, brown sugar swirl, butterscotch, caramel, cinnamon dolce, coconut, french vanilla, hazelnut, irish cream, mocha, pumpkin pie, salted caramel, vanilla, and vanilla bean.” “Great, that’s good. That’s a lot of options. Uhm, can we just start from the top?” 

You let out a small laugh, “You got it, an almond iced macchiato coming at ya!”

The next two weeks went by in a blur of morning small talk, warm smiles, and iced coffee. When Steve walked into the coffee shop, he patiently waited in line watching you work. You moved from one end of the counter to the other with such grace. 

You looked up at him with a smile, “Steve! My favorite regular! Good morning! What can I get ya this morning?” 

He dug his wallet out of his pocket and shrugged, “Whatever’s next on the list.” 

You sucked in air through your teeth, “I’m sorry Captain, the list is done.”

Steve tilted his head to the side in disbelief, “You mean that’s it? There’s nothing else I can try?” 

Shaking your head with a small frown, “That’s it, that’s officially all I got for ya. So, did you find something you like or is it back to black coffee?” 

“Yeah…I, uhm, I did. I did find something I like.” He paused almost second guessing if he would really be able to ask you. “Can I have your number?” 

“My number?” 

“If you’re seeing someone I apologize, I didn’t mean to impose I-” 

“No, no, I’m not seeing anyone. I’m single… I-just-hold on.” With a big smile you grabbed a napkin out of the dispenser on top of the counter and pulled a pen out of the cup by the register before quickly jotting your number on it. “I get off work at three.” 

Steve couldn’t help but blush when you handed the napkin to him, “Thank you, I’ll call you later then.” He folded it up and placed it in his shirt pocket. 

Looking over at him you bit your lip slightly before speaking again, “You didn’t answer my question, did you find something you like or just the black coffee?”

 “Oh, the black coffee is probably my staple but that butterscotch one you gave me two weeks ago was really great.” 

“So all this was just-” 

“Me stalling trying to figure out how to ask out, yeah...I’m sorry about that.” 

You looked down with a big smile before looking back up at him, “Don’t be sorry, this was great.” 

Steve nodded, “I’ve adored seeing you every day.” 

“I’ve adored seeing you too… Would you like just a medium black coffee then?” 

“Yes, please.” 

You nodded before turning to go get a medium cup and pouring some hot coffee into it. You placed the lid on it, drawing a heart and smiley face on the lid in a sharpie before handing it to him. 

Steve took the cup and handed you a five dollar bill, “Keep the change, I hope you have a good rest of your day, Y/N.” 

“Thank you! You too, Captain. I’ll talk to you later.” 

With a small smile and a nod, he was out the door to continue to wander the streets of New York.

[avengers-age-of-fanfics]

just for you, honeybee (4/?)

pairings: steve rogers x fem!reader (platonic), bucky barnes x fem!reader

warnings: characters death, swearing, flirting with colonel phillips, guns, plane crash

word count: 4,327

a/n: holy crap this one is long! i really enjoyed writing this chapter just because i got to watch CA:TFA all over again and i cried like a little baby. hope you guys enjoy this! btw, next chapter is going to be very short - probably the shortest one yet, just a heads up!

“Johann Schmidt belongs in a bughouse,” Colonel Phillips started, “he thinks he’s a god and he’s willing to blow up half the world to prove it, starting with the U.S.A.”

You tensed up next to Steve as Howard moved behind you, taking a seat to your right, “Schmidt’s working with powers beyond our capabilities. He gets across the Atlantic, he will wipe out the entire Eastern Seaboard in an hour.”

Peggy’s eyes met yours before they drifted to Steve who tossed a pile of papers on the table in front of him. One of the Howling Commandos spoke up, “how much time we got?”

Colonel Phillips sorted through some files, “according to my new best friend, under 24 hours.”

You spoke up, “where is he now?”

The Colonel presented the group with a photo, “Hydra’s last base is here. In the Alps, 500 feet below the surface.”

Another Howling Commando spoke up, “so what are we supposed to do? I mean, it’s not like we can just knock on the front door.”

“Why not?” And just like that, Steve captured everyone’s attention in the room, including yours. You knew this was going to be a suicide mission, especially if he continued with this idea, “that’s exactly what we’re gonna do.”

Everyone looked at Steve with wide eyes, except for you and Peggy. Schmidt was in for a rude awakening.

-

Grabbing a motorcycle alongside Steve, the two of you headed into the snowy forest towards the base. Glancing over at Steve, you noticed he kept the design on the shield, joy sparking in your chest, “you kept it!”

Steve barely heard you over the sound of the motorcycles but he smiled, “not too shabby for your first Captain America design.”

You chuckled, about to respond until you glanced back, seeing six motorcycles behind you, “we got company, Cap!”

Quickly swerving back and forth to avoid whatever-the-hell they were shooting at you, Cap glanced back once more before he pushed a button on the pad attached to his motorcycle, two hooks with strings attached latching onto two trees. Right away, two guys on motorcycles failed to avoid the trap, sending them flying forward.

Cap yelled over to you, “get next to me!”

Speeding up a bit on your bike, you ended up next to Steve as he pressed another button, fire immediately covering two of the cyclists. You gave Steve a look, “that was so badass!”

On your left, you saw two Hydra motorcycles race ahead of you before you looked to Steve, “I got an idea! Move quickly!” Racing ahead, you quickly picked a pin from their motorcycles, making sure Steve was nowhere near them. Looking back, you sent a smirk his way as he sped up next to you, hearing and feeling the explosion of the motorcycles.

Riding towards the base, a tank was placed right before the entrance. Steve yelled, “stay right behind me,” just as the tank started shooting at you. Racing behind Cap, you both saw the tank explode as Steve shot at it from his motorcycle, riding up the cement barrier of the base.

Jumping over the barriers with your bikes, both you and Steve were met with Hydra soldiers with guns pointed right at you. Continuing your ride, you saw Steve jump off his, watching it explode the first wall of the base. Riding through the base, you quickly took down any soldier in your way, shooting them with your new best friend – StG 44.

Running a few fellas over with your bike, you looked over at Steve who was taking multiple soldiers down with the shield. Turning your attention back towards the fight, you continued to take down more men – but you noticed their numbers were growing bigger by the second.

In a spare glance, you turned to Steve who was now surrounded by two men holding flamethrowers, making it unable for him to move. You came to a stop, noticing a line of men pointing their guns at you. With a sigh, you hopped off your bike – but not before shooting one more guy by your feet.

You saw Cap look around for you worriedly until he met your eyes; you nodded at him, telling him to not put up a fight, at least not yet. He nodded back, allowing the Hydra soldiers to take both your weapons and leading you down the halls of the base and into a room that had it not hold one of the world’s most dangerous men, you’d say it had a beautiful view.

You and Steve stopped side-by-side with the Hydra soldiers as Johann Schmidt started talking, “arrogance may not be a uniquely American trait, but I must say, you do it better than anybody.”

This was not what you expected Johann Schmidt to look like.

He glanced at you, “seems you have no limits, Captain, bringing a woman into this.”

You glared at the red-faced monster, “I came here on my own accord, just to clarify, Schmidt.”

Johann hummed as he turned away from you, “however, even you have limits as to what you can do, Captain. Or did Erskine tell you otherwise?”

Steve spoke up beside you, “he told me you were insane.”

Schmidt seemed unsurprised, looking down to the floor and back to Steve, “ah…he resented my genius and tried to deny what was rightfully mine. But he gave you everything. So, what made you so special?”

Steve chuckled, “nothin’. I’m just a kid from Brooklyn.”

Schmidt turned to you, “how about you, little one? What makes you so special?”

You swallowed thickly, “good looks?”

You nor Steve really aren’t sure what exactly set Johann off, but a switch had flipped, and his face grew into a frown before he slapped you across the face twice, doing the same to Cap while also kneeing him in the stomach. Both you and Steve were put on your knees as all three of you breathed heavily.

With a slight grin, Steve looked up at Johann, “I can do this all day.”

Johann was not amused, “oh, of course you can, of course.” He paused before he continued, pulling a gun out from the side of his uniform, “but unfortunately, I am on a tight schedule.” He pointed the gun to Steve’s head just as the Howling Commandos began to zip line towards the base.

You growled towards Schmidt, “so are we.”

Once Schmidt realized what was happening, you and Steve quickly grabbed the guards behind you, pulling them in front as Johann fired his gun at them, their bodies disappearing in thin air. You gave Steve a look as the Howling Commandos flew in through the windows, firing at the enemy as Schmidt took off.

Quickly getting up off your feet, you scurried towards the hall where Schmidt took off, a Howling Commando yelling behind you, “Rogers! You might need this!”

Hearing the shield pass through the air, you knew Steve caught it as he yelled back, “thanks,” then hearing his footsteps take after yours.

Hydra troops marched down the halls of the base, guns ready to fire at any moment. With your heightened sense of hearing, you knew the rest of the platoon was taking over the Hydra base, gunfire slowly taking over your senses. Explosions filled the base as smoke and fire entered your senses; Steve ran beside you, sensing the same things.

You saw Schmidt turn down a corridor, yelling over to Steve, “this way!” Quickly, Schmidt retaliated, sending bolts of his gun your way, making you narrowly avoid being disintegrated. Steve ran beside you, shield blocking the gunfire as you chased after the madman.

With a lucky throw, Steve threw the shield, catching it between metal doors where Schmidt narrowly escaped. Cap let out a sigh, rushing towards the shield as you quirked an eyebrow, “lucky throw?”

Before he could answer, a Hydra Agent came around the corner with two flamethrowers, making Steve push you against the wall as he ran opposite of you; you both were trapped as fire encapsulated your vision. Glancing towards the fire welder, you tried coming up with a plan before, lo and behold, Peggy Carter shot at the man, his flaming body falling to the ground.

Both you and Steve looked around the corner, spotting Peggy as soldiers ran by; Steve smirked at Peg, “you’re late.”

Your eyes shifted towards the ceiling as you tried to avoid the awkward moment; Peggy spoke up, “weren’t you about to –“ Steve nodded, “right, yeah – y/n.” With that, you and Steve took off towards the door where the shield held its place. Grabbing your hand, Steve pulled the shield and quickly took off.

You spotted men from the 107th shooting at the giant airship, Hydra agents lying about the floor. Turning to Steve, who was a few steps behind you, you nodded your head, “we got a problem.” The ship’s engines had already started, and it seemed Schmidt was, understandably, in a rush to complete his plan. The ship turned, wheels screeching against the floor as you and Cap slowed down, watching it slowly make its way to the exit.

Steve glanced around, watching as Hydra forces and your own fought one another. With a nod towards you, both you and Steve took off, running headfirst into battle, making sure to avoid trouble along the way; that, and, well, Steve also wanted to get some hits in.

You noticed where Cap was headed as you two ran in battle, “how do you plan on fitting us both on that?”

Steve glanced back at you, “think you can hold on, kid?”

You grumbled, “yeah! But I’m literally older than you by like, 4 months…”

Quickly, Steve jumped over huddled bodies until he reached a box of supplies lying right beneath a chain; with a jump, Steve latched onto the chain as you skipped a step, latching onto his waist mid-flight. Reaching a safe zone, you jumped first, meeting Steve in a mid-run as you headed towards the ship Johann Schmidt was currently about to fly.

You and Steve ran beside one another, pushing to reach Schmidt even as fire from the engines burnt your face. You yelled over to Steve, “c’mon, Steve! We’re – we’re almost there!” Your last sentence turned into a scream, your body yelling at you for pushing itself to the limits.

The fans from the ship sped up as you and Steve struggled to catch up with Schmidt, your hopes slowly fading as he seemed to get further and further away. Steve pulled you to a slow jog, about to crash until Peggy Carter and Colonel Phillips pulled up beside you in one of Schmidt’s cars.

Colonel Phillips yelled at you both, “get in!” Before you even settled down beside the Colonel and Steve beside Peggy, you took off, hair flying behind you. You turned to the Colonel with a smirk on your face, “nice ride, Phillips!”

The Colonel glanced a look at you as he sped up, “figured I might keep this once we’re done here!” You let out a laugh that soon died off as you recognized the light from the sun and a runway – right where Schmidt currently was.

You looked to the Colonel, a worried look on your face, as he pressed a button beside the steering wheel; right away, the car you were seated in blasted off, hair wildly being thrown behind you as the Colonel grasped onto the wheel. You held onto the door handle, eyes wide as you were reaching the ship, “remind me to never drive with you again, Colonel!”

With shaky legs, you began standing up as Steve did the same mid-ride, reaching the back end of the ship. You and Steve yelled to the Colonel, “keep it steady!”

Peggy shouted over the sounds of the ship and car engines, “wait!” Steve looked back to Peggy as she pulled him into a kiss.

You looked to the Colonel with a shrug; he shook his head at you, “I ain’t kissin’ you!” You gave a laugh as you blew him a kiss, leaning on the hood of the car to avoid getting chopped up by the propellers on the ship. Steve followed right behind you, shield meeting the propellers only once, sparks flying.

You glanced at Steve quickly before you jumped towards the ship’s wheel, grabbing onto the metal support beam as Steve flew right below you, catching onto the lasting part of the wheel. Looking down, you tried steadying your breath as you realized how high up you were; grasping Steve’s hand, you pulled him up alongside you as the wheel you two stood on was slowly pulled into the ship.

With a shaky hand, you reached into your shirt and grabbed Bucky’s dog tags, holding them tight against your scolding skin, even though it was blistering cold in the Alps.

Once inside the lower level of the ship, you and Steve quietly made your way along the metal floors, looking below you as you saw a horrifying sight; bombs with names of major cities written on them, including Chicago and New York.

With a slight gasp, you turned to Steve who looked just as distraught as you were. As his eyes met the New York bomb, footsteps echoed above you, Hydra agents making their ways across the metal landings. With stealth, Steve jumped up, grabbing onto the railing, and kicking an agent over the ledge. Jumping just as high, you landed on the landing and met with the remaining three agents.

With a slight run, you met one agent halfway as he immediately threw a punch your way. You narrowly avoided it, ducking to the side and elbowing him in the face, hearing a nice crunch beneath your elbow. Steve made his way around you, kicking another agent in the chest as he flew backwards. Kicking your opponent over the ledge, you grabbed a knife holstered onto your thigh and threw it at the third and final agent running away, hiding him in the back of the neck; with a grunt, he fell against the side of the landing.

Somehow, Steve’s agent escaped during a quick moment of distraction, climbing on top of the Chicago bomb. Cap ran towards the control panel, pressing the red escape button before the poor guy could even make it inside the capsule, hearing him scream as he fell thousands of feet.

You took a quick breath, “I don’t feel guilty about that…is that bad?”

Steve shrugged, “I – I don’t think so…no, yeah, no, definitely not.”

Less than a second later, two Hydra agents ambushed you and Steve, punching you in the side as you let out a grunt. Avoiding another punch, you grabbed a knife from your thigh and stabbed your opponent in the chest, flipping him over just for good measure. Steve had already disposed of his guy as you kicked yours down towards the opening where Steve’s own guy had just gone down.

You wiped off the blood from your knife on your suit as Steve grimaced, “what, waste a perfectly good knife? Sorry I don’t have a shield, Stevie.”

Steve just shivered, “that’s just…gross, y/n.”

You rolled your eyes, “so overdramatic. C’mon, let’s go.”

Before you could continue on within the ship, however, Steve and you heard someone get into one of the bombs, closing the lid. Steve immediately jumped onto the window, another agent jumping on top of him. Without thinking, you threw your knife at the agent, hitting him in the shoulder as the bomb, along with Steve on it, dropped into the sky.

You screamed, “Steve! No – no!”

Grabbing at your hair, you held back tears as you watched Steve fly around, narrowly avoiding the tiny ship’s propellers. With careful steps, you saw the scene unfold as the agent you had stabbed was shoved into the propellers, blood flowing from the sky; you gagged, “jesus, Steve – that was disgusting.”

Stepping away from the platform, you trusted Steve and continued your way through the ship, trying to find Schmidt. Grabbing Cap’s shield from where it had been discarded before the bomb was dropped, you made your way to the cockpit where you realized it was quiet – too quiet.

At some point, you felt the ship shake and loud bangs filled the air as you hoped it was Steve – back in one piece. Slowly walking down the stairs, the shield protecting you, you quietly walked upon the metal grates of the ship until reaching the pilot’s seat; leaning to the side, you realized Schmidt was no longer there.

“What the –“ Before you could finish, you heard the sounds of a gun preparing to fire, and in a split second, you used the shield to protect yourself from Schmidt’s laser, the shot hitting the window of the ship.

Harsh winds forced itself into the ship, your hair blowing wildly as Schmidt stood before you, “you don’t give up, do you? Where’s Mr. Rogers, little one?”

Just then, Steve decided to make his grand entrance as you glared at Schmidt, “kids from Brooklyn aren’t exactly known for givin’ up, Johann.” With a flick of your arm, you threw the shield to Steve as Schmidt fired, forcing you to jump to the side. Steve caught the shield, blocking another hit from Schmidt’s laser as it hit the window again.

Cap ran towards Schmidt, blocking more hits as he fought with the red-skulled man, avoiding yet also receiving some hits. Once Cap was kicked to the ground, you jumped behind Schmidt, kicking his hind legs and kneeing his lower spine, hearing him grunt in pain in response. Steve stood up, pushing Schmidt against a wall before being slammed to the ground.

You ran towards Johann, arm going around his neck, choking him as he tried grabbing at anything for leverage. With a quick glance to the table lying in the middle of the room, glowing blue, you threw yourself on top of it, pulling Schmidt with you and onto the floor. Steve had then pulled Schmidt up, hitting him with his shield until Schmidt fought back, hitting Cap with his own weapon before Steve headbutted him.

Steve leaned back before he grabbed onto Schmidt’s uniform, throwing him towards the pilot seat, sparks immediately flying through the air. With a yell, you realized the ship was tipped downwards, heading straight towards, what looked like, an icy landscape. Flying to the ceiling alongside Schmidt and Steve, you flew towards Johann, punching him in the stomach as he did you, trying to gain some type of balance.

As the three of you fought in the air, you gave your best kicks and punches, watching Steve be thrown to the side of the ship. In the short time, Schmidt flew over and pulled up the steering stick of the ship, pressing a few buttons as you all three fell to the floor, the ship back to normal altitude.

Landing on the metal grates harshly, you groaned as Steve stood up, pulling you alongside him as he held his shield in front of you both. Schmidt turned towards you, gun in hand as he stumbled down the stairs, “you could have the power of the gods! Both of you!”

Schmidt shot towards you and Steve as you ducked, feeling the heat of the gunfire pass over your head, “yet you wear a flag on your chest, and think you fight a battle of nations!” He kept firing at you, Steve pulling you along as Schmidt continued, “I have seen the future, Captain, little one! There are no flags!”

Another shot fired over your head as Steve analyzed his next steps, yelling back, “not my future!” Leaping forward, Steve rolled and protected himself from another shot from Schmidt as you kneeled by the side, ready to step in.

With a grunt, Steve threw the shield at Johann, forcing him to hit the glowing table, the item inside slowly coming out of its container. You narrowed your eyes, “what the hell is that?” Its bright light captured your attention as Schmidt stood beside it, “what have you done?”

The bright blue box was now outside its container, off to the side from the force of Johann’s body; Schmidt grabbed it, and after a few seconds, bright lights flew around the ship and the universe seemed to open up above him. Your brain could not comprehend what you were seeing – millions of stars and planets littered the space above as Schmidt stood below, arms beside him as he looked up.

Slowly, Schmidt’s body began to deteriorate, his screams of pain echoing throughout the ship, rainbow flashes coloring your vision as both you and Steve looked away. Then, in a split second, the blue cube fell to the ground and Schmidt was gone.

You looked at Cap, “what…what just happened?”

Steve shook his head, leaning down to grab his shield before nodding towards the pilot’s seat, “we gotta figure this out.”

Sitting beside him as co-pilot, you turned on the radio as Steve tried to figure out how exactly to land the aircraft. He looked down at the map, noticing the ship was on its way to New York. Looking at one another, you pressed on the intercom button beside you, “come in! This is y/n l/n, alongside Captain Rogers. Do you read me?”

Right away, someone responded, “Y/N, L/N, what is your –“

Quickly, Peggy interrupted him, “y/n! Is that you? Is Steve with you? Are you both alright?”

You sighed at the sound of Peggy’s voice as Steve smiled, “Peggy! Schmidt’s dead and – and –“

Peggy calmed you down, “what about the plane?”

You looked to Steve for help as he talked for you, “that’s a little bit tougher to explain.” You raised an eyebrow at Steve as you grasped onto Bucky’s dog tags around your neck, trying to help the conversation. Peggy continued, “give me your coordinates, I’ll find you a safe landing site.”

With solemn eyes, you looked at Steve who was trying his best to possibly fix something, anything, “there’s not gonna be a safe landing…but I can try and force it down.”

Peggy stumbled, “I – I’ll get Howard on the line. He’ll know what to do.”

Steve shouted back, “there’s not enough time. This thing’s moving too fast and it’s heading for New York.”

The sky ahead of you looked beautiful. It was orange, mixed with bits of yellow and blue. Your nose had grown quite cold and your hair whipped your face as you still grasped onto the dog tags.

Steve breathed heavily, “I gotta put her in the water.”

You knew this was coming. You just knew it.

Peggy responded, “please, don’t do this. We have time. We can work it out.”

You called out to Peggy, “Peg…we’re in the middle of nowhere. If we wait any longer, a lot of people are going to die.” Steve glanced at you with worry in his eyes; you nodded to him as he continued, “Peggy… this is our choice. We’re okay.”

Steve reached into his pocket, pulling out a compass with a picture of Peg in the middle of it, placing it on one of the meters. With a grunt, Steve pushed the level down, the airship leaning towards the ocean in no time. You looked at Steve, your heart racing as tears raced your cheeks; not in fear, but in sadness.

Sadness that you never got to have your dance with Bucky at your wedding, nor see his smile once again or feel his lips against your own. You wouldn’t get to hear his gravelly voice in the morning right after a good night’s sleep, or get to hold his hand as he pulled you along at fairs. You wouldn’t be able to smell him or feel his hair against your fingertips as he cuddled into your chest. You wouldn’t be able to be with him before you died.

The altitude was dropping fast and Steve continued to look at the picture of Peggy, the sun glaring in his eyes, “Peggy?”

With a whisper, Peggy responded, “I’m here.”

Steve stared at the glaciers that were coming into view, “I’m gonna need a rain check on that dance.”

Your lips quivered as the glaciers came closer and closer to you. Peggy let her tears fall as she whispered back, “all right. A week, next Saturday, at the Stork Club. And I expect you there, too, y/n. You hear me?”

You and Steve let out a breath as Steve responded, “you got it.” Steve reached beside himself and grabbed for your hand, holding it tightly. The tears came faster as did the glaciers and the cold water.

Peggy continued, “8 o’clock on the dot. Don’t you dare be late. You two understand?”

You swallowed, tears clouding your vision, “yes ma’am.”

Steve stared at the oncoming landscape, “you know, I still don’t know how to dance.”

Peggy whispered as Steve’s hand gripped yours tight, “I’ll show you how. Just be there.”

Steve had his own tears running down his cheeks as you sobbed quietly, hand gripping his tight, “we’ll have the band play something slow.”

Steve turned back towards you, eyes sad as he saw your cheeks, “I am so sorry, honeybee. I’m so sorry.”

With your remaining hand, you held onto Bucky’s dog tags tightly, alongside Steve’s hand, as he turned back to the radio, “I’d hate to step on your…”

The last thing you saw was your James Barnes standing right in front of you, arms wide as he yelled, “my honeybee! There she is – looking gorgeous as ever, honey.” With a kiss to your lips, it almost felt real as you responded, “hi, Jamie.”

honeybee taglist:

@clownerlyluv @ginger-swag-rapunzel

[crushcandles]

you asked so please give me some first kissing pre-war stucky

[Steve/Bucky, CA:TFA, non-explicit, ~300]

“I’ll go slow,” Bucky promises, his hand cupping Steve’s shoulder now. Steve nods, but Bucky’s already leaning in. “In fact,” he says, breathing on Steve’s chin, quite close, “slow is a good way to start with girls.”

The word girls ends up pressed against Steve’s closed lips, backed by Bucky’s kiss. It’s nothing to write home about; even Steve has been pecked like this before, when the girls liked him at least a little, or more likely, Bucky was watching. It’s just lips touching, Bucky’s fingers on Steve’s shoulder. Steve stands ramrod straight and takes it, his own hand still in a fist. A long moment later, Bucky pulls away.

He smiles at Steve and shakes his head. “You are a bad girl, Rogers.”

Steve snorts, a little embarrassed even though he’s supposed to be a bad girl. “If I was a good girl, Buck, I’d have bigger problems than kissing.”

Bucky chuckles. “Good one.” He squeezes Steve’s shoulder. “Well, whether you’re a good girl or bad girl, just don’t be a frigid girl. Play along.”

Steve nods, and Bucky kisses him again. It’s another one of those closed-mouth kisses, shorter than the first, but Bucky doesn’t really move away when it’s over. He just resettles his mouth on Steve’s for another kiss, his lips less firm than the last.

He draws his hand over Steve’s shoulder, bringing it to rest on Steve’s neck. It’s warm but light; he doesn’t scruff Steve like he’s done in the past, just holds it there, his thumb rubbing Steve’s neck.

The touch is so sweet it startles Steve into relaxing, his hand loosening and the breath he gets when Bucky lifts his mouth is smoother. When Bucky kisses him again, it’s easier, and he tries his hand at it, helping out for the next couple of kisses.

It’s just starting to feel good, natural, when Bucky pulls back, farther than he has for a couple of minutes. But he doesn’t move his hand, and he’s smiling.

[stuckyfandom]

Stucky Fandom Stats

Hey everyone!

We’ve seen a number of fandom analyses for the overall marvel fandom and decided to make an in-depth analysis specifically for the stucky fandom!

 For the fanfiction analysis, we will be using stats from Archive of Our Own over the past ten years. Additionally, all the AO3 stats for the graphs are based on what the stats are if you are not a logged-in user. 

The number of stucky fics reached 50000 on May 16th 2020 (note: this is the number if you’re logged in). This made it the first marvel ship to reach 50000 fics on AO3, the most written about marvel ship, and the fourth most written ship on AO3. 

The number of fics each year was found using the wayback machine and the data was taken from around the same day each year (the graph is showing as the exact same day, however,  there is slight variation in the actual dates the data is taken from). The first data point was taken in 2010, a year before CA:TFA came out. The next point is from about 5 months after CA:TFA came out. There isn’t a huge difference between these two and the number of fics only increased by about 46 in a year. After, The Avengers came out, there was a jump to 568 fics and another huge jump after CA:TWS came out to 8419 fics.

We also calculated the number of new fics each year and found this:

(Keep in mind the data is all taken and calculated around December and most marvel movies come out in late Spring- early Summer). The number of new fics in 2012 and 2013 was about 535. This number can be attributed to the fact that The Avengers came out in 2012 and the movie brought a lot of people to The Avengers/Marvel fandom. The number of new fics didn't become huge until 2014 where the number jumped from 559 to 7292. This is very obviously accredited to the fact that CA:TWS came out in April and that movie brought in many new Marvel/stucky fans. The number of new fics stayed pretty consistent in 2015 (most likely because of the hype around CA:CW and the press tour), with not even a difference of 100 fics, before jumping again in 2016 to 9037. This is most clearly due to CA:CW which was the highest grossing movie of 2016 and brought in many new fans to the ship. There was a steep decline in 2017 with the number of new fics being the lowest it had been in 3 years before jumping again in 2018 (likely due to Infinity War). The most surprising, however, is the increase in 2019 which was the highest its ever been with a total of 9566 new fics. The simple explanation would be that Avengers: Endgame being the biggest movie of all time brought a lot of people into or back into the fandom. 

We also looked at Tumblr’s yearly reblogged ship list to see if there were consistencies between that and the number of fics (note: the most reblogged list started in 2013 but since there were no marvel ships at all that year, we started with 2014).

The ship ranking is mostly consistent with the number of new fics (with stucky falling off the yearly ship ranking in 2017 and the number of new fics dipping that year as well). Stucky gets back on the list in 2018 and this was also the first year that the list counted the top 100 ships instead of the top 25. This also marks the first time that a marvel ship other than stucky was on the list. The only inconsistency here is that, other than 2017, the lowest position was in 2019, however, in terms of fics, the highest number of new fics was also in 2019. 

Finally, we found the total number of new fics in the past year. We found the number of fics (when logged into AO3 as a user) on June 21st 2019 as being 43,218. The number of fics now on June 21st, 2020 is 50,530. That's 7,312 new fics in a year (all post Avengers: Endgame).

Lastly, we’d like to say thank you to all the fic writers, artists, gif makers, and content creators for keeping this fandom as fun and active as it is and for consistently providing us with so much amazing content. Also, thank you to all the people who support content creators and keep this fandom interactive.

Thanks for reading!

[caleysteggy]

am I wrong in saying there aren’t many videos of Chris & Hayley talking together (other than the movie ofc)?? I demand a catfa press tour redo

Definitely! We have videos of them talking ABOUT each other but together?

I often wonder what the CA:TFA press tour could have been like if it had been like later MCU press tours. We would have gotten so much Caley content. We were robbed. It could have been glorious!

[fandomfluffandfuck]

Did you saw Seb’s new story in IG? What do you think of it?

I did see it and I appreciate that you came to ask me if I did!

For reference if anyone out there didn't get to/hasn't seen it:

Also if you click on that post it's actually the 2nd photo in the post, the 1st image is:

Which I'm just tickled about that being the first image in the post because you bet your ass that that made Sebastian blush and squirm a little in his seat. Baby can't take any praise/compliments at all in the sweetest way.

But as far as my thoughts on it, I think its really sweet. Fans write those HCs and theories and works of fiction as extentions of the world or work they love so much. To some degree fans like ourselves obsess over it and seeing Sebastian caring about it in the same way? Precious. I love him so much.

Like, we already know that he puts so SO much thought into his role as Bucky so seeing this just reinforces that in my mind.

But, oh boy, don't think this stucky crumb as slipped past me. No, sir.

I'm now just thinking about Sebastian thinking about how fond but exasperated Bucky would've been over Steve. Smiling about the not so secret secret relationship they had. I'm thinking about Seb doing one of two things upon reading this:

He saw this and smiled wistfully at his phone and nodding to himself thinking, yeah, yeah that idiot would do that and Bucky would be so annoyed but secretly whipped. And feeling a little nostalgic for those CA:TFA days he added it to his story. Or...

He saw this and had the same sort of gut reaction he had to Chris' text hitting him back after Mackie during the fantastic tornado of TFATWS press stuff. But instead of Seb blurting out I LOVE HIM on fucking camera he instantly started laughing and said RIGHT? UGH to himself and had, had to share it.