#captain america crack

[buckyalpine]

I love Bucky loving his body. I love Bucky loved by the team. I love Bucky having his happy ending with a family. Imagine Bucky lounging around the sofa with his little baby girl tucked in his arm, her sweet face covered in frosting after smothering half of her cupcake onto her cheeks. The icing is bright red just like Tony's suit and it's his birthday party afterall, so everything is in full swing. Most of the cupcake is squished between her fingers, very little actually making it into her mouth but Bucky doesn't mind. He chuckles, watching her with heart eyes as she happily smears it onto his crisp white shirt, babbling and cooing, now sucking her thumb.

He is absolutely unbothered by this, all he sees is his happy little baby with her cheeky smile licking up all the frosting just like her mama. While Bucky couldn't care less about his shirt, a few others certainly did.

"Better get dunk that shirt into a bucket of tide pens Barnes" Clint snorted.

"Actually the quicker you get it off, the less likely it is to stain. Take it off now" Tony's voice went from fatherly advice to a seductive growl making Bucky's face twist in amusement, pink starting to color his cheeks.

"Yeah, give the little munchkin to y/n and take it off. Cause of the stain" Nat agreed, cocking an eyebrow. You giggled watching the scene unfold before you, your husband growing bashfully shy.

"Can't hurt punk" Steve shrugged and Bucky's eyes nearly popped out of his head until he realized his best friend had been nursing a rather large glass of Asgardian mead. Tipsy Steve was always a little bit of a pervert...

"I-

"For the stain"

"I think you just want me to take my shirt off" Bucky huffed while you grinned, giving his cheek a peck before taking your little princess in your arms.

"Can't blame them handsome, c'mon, show em' how lucky I am" you whisper and that sells it. Couldn't hurt and since they were all asking...

"Just take it off!" Nat howled with a wink, a bunch of whistles when Bucky sighed, indulging the team a little. He unbuttons his shirt and hands it off to a genuinely concerned Sam who would normally make sure the shirt got sent to the cleaners but this is too good so he throws it into a bucket of cold water and is back within seconds.

"Good God"

"Jesus"

"You look fuckin' good terminator"

"Alright, alright" Bucky holds his hands up, unable to stop the way his ears are bright red, shaking his head when you blow him a kiss making him blush more.

"Body shots!"

"What?"

"Yes"

Tony's eyes glimmer with excitement, and Bucky snorts, loving the way you egg him on, his daughter also squealing with excitement.

"Go on Sarge, y'know you look good"

He lies down on the bar table, surrounded by just the team, abs beautifully flexed as Nat pours a generous amount of some type of alcohol right on his belly button.

"When else will we get this lucky" She says with a playful smirk while Steve cracks his knuckles.

"Why are you cracking your knuckles, what the hell do you plan on-

"ME FIRST" He doesn't give anyone a chance, face planting himself into Bucky's tummy, his lips sealed, drinking every bit of the burning liquor with a satisfied hum.

"How much has he had to drink"

"Who cares, me next"

"I think you've licked enough of my husband"

"You get him all the time, don't be greedy"

"That cute little chubby ball of frosting and giggles is enough evidence you get him every which way, besides isn't there another one cooking, y'can't have any now git"

"Blink twice if you need help"

"Bro looks like an angel"

"Why aren't you blinking"

"Crafted by the heavens"

"You like this, don't you"

Bucky can't help but chuckle, surrounded by idiots. Drunk idiots. His wife. His baby girl. Another little one on the way. All who love him. Would protect him. Life was good.

[rohirriiim]

(x)

[backgroundagent3]

Around the time she started to question why she was on the team.

[hurtcomforted]

fairytale au where bucky snaps out of the winter soldier state and gets his memories back when steve gives him a true love's kiss

[tomriddleslovergirl]

Marvel characters x oblivious!reader

Steve Rogers:

Steve and you had been getting to know each other for the past few months and were becoming good friends. Although, Steve had begun to get feelings for you that were not so friendly. He wanted more out of your guys' relationship.

He'd never been good with flirting, but decided to at least try in doing so incase he scared you off or made you uncomfortable by being too upfront.

So, while on a walk with you one winter day, Steve decided to make his move.

"Y'know, Buck once told me pretty girls always have cold hands." The cold didn't bother Steve because he was a Super-Soldier, but he assumed that it would cause some discomfort for a normal human.

You look down at your hands.

"Huh. Mine are always warm." But either way, you shoved your hands in your jacket pocket, not noticing that Steve had put out his hand for you to hold.

Peter Parker

Peter and you had been going out for a little while now, and every time he'd try to flirt with you, you'd be oblivious. So after building up some confidence (with the help of Ned), he asked you. "Can I have a kiss?"

You look at Peter in shock, wondering how he knew you had a bag of kiss in your bag. You rummage through it and hand him one.

"Here," You say, handing the small chocolate to him.

Ned held in a laugh.

"Th-thanks?" Peter said, his voice cracking with confusion and embarrassment at being rejected - even if it was done obliviously by you.

Wanda Maximoff

Wanda had tried flirting with you before and you would never quite get the hint. She had assumed there was something wrong with the way she tried to make romantic advances with you and went to the Natasha to get some pointers.

Later on, Wanda decided to use some of Nat's tips.

Wanda asked you if you wanted to bake cookies with her and invited you into the Avengers Tower kitchen.

While you both were baking and talking, Wanda would try to make her laughs sound breathy when you made a joke or would compliment you from time to time.

When she noticed you were having trouble icing one of the cookies, she stood behind you, and gently wrapped one of her hands around your hand that was holding the piping bag while you held onto the cookie.

"Here," she whispered, her hot breath hitting your ear as she helped you ice your cookie.

After Wanda was done, she placed the icing bag on the counter and looked at you, trying to see if her flirting had done the trick. But you don't notice anything out of the ordinary.

"Thanks, Wanda," you say, thinking she was just trying to be helpful.

You went to grab another cookie to ice, when she suddenly grabbed your chin. "You have something on your face," she says.

You look up at her in surprise as she swipes her thumb against your cheek. She brings her thumb to her mouth before licking the icing off.

You look up at Wanda, your brows furrowed. "That's disgusting, Wanda."

[squilfmybeloved]

during the battle in germany, at the airport, peter runs into captain america. oh my god, it's captain america is all that's going through his head right now.

and then peter starts thinking about the psa videos.

while they're fighting, all he can think about are those god damn psa videos. peter knows he's getting distracted- maybe that's why he suddenly finds himself holding up a landing ramp, and captain america is about to throw a crate at him, and tony is about to tackle cap, and-

and all that comes out of peter's stupid mouth is, "so. you've got detention."

everything just. stops. steve freezes and unceremoniously drops the crate, the thud the only source of noise. his face looks like a cherry tomato. tony says, "what the fuck, roos? where did that, out of all things, come from?"

peter, traitor that he is, points at steve and hoarsely whispers, "his school psas."

nat's wheezing laughs are all that is heard over the comms.

next thing peter knows, the shield is coming at him, he's pathetically flying through the air, hitting the ground, and out like a light.

when the rogues come back to the compound, peter and steve can't look at eachother for a week.

[marvel-my-most-beloved]

[satoshy12]

The Dragon's mercenary

Deadstroke x Dorathea

Dora had already spent a few days in the Human world when Ser Phantom told her she could leave whenever she wanted to see the human world. Which she did as she left the Ghost Zone; it had truly changed since she was alive.

While on her travels, she found a wounded Ser Phantom! Only after she took care of the boy and healed him up did she notice it wasn't Danny. But a boy who just looks like Danny Well, she worked on him and healed him; later, Deathstroke found his wounded son, and Respawn stopped his father from attacking his savior; without her help, he would have died.

Slade stopped to try to attack her, talked with her, and led her to his base so she could take care of Respawn there.

After a few months, Danny left to search for Dora; he feared something could have happened to her. As he heard, she didn't return to the Ghost Zone. While it's true she can turn into a dragon and all that, it's better to save her than not.

He found her now a mother and wife?

Respawn saw why the woman thought he was him; they look basically the same. Slade saw what had confused Dora, and Dora is happy that James Wilson will now have friends.

+

Once again, a short time later, it was Rose who saw her father in Jump City. Her dad was playing family! And she has a new stepmother, it seems. He seem to have separated private from job.

[stuckysimp]

I have no explanation other than I think I'm funny

[anika-ann]

Cracks in Foundation (S.R.)

Type: one-shot, standalone or part of Love on the Brain series

Pairining: Steve Rogers x reader    Word count: 6000

Summary: Dating Steve Rogers is a curse and a gift. Even as it was always a privilege, right now, it feels like the former. You really want to smack some sense into him so this never happens again, but you know it will – after all, that’s half the reason you love him.

In other words, Steve is stupidly brave on a mission and it has consequences neither of you could foresee. But maybe you should have; because now you’re here alone to pick up the pieces.

Warnings!!: Steve being an absolute dumbass, mentions and images of death, hypothermia, PTSD, flashbacks, probably not an ideal treatment of a flashback, canon typical violence, language

A/N: reader is called “Agent Jones��, works for the Avengers Initiative; you do not need knowledge of Criminal Minds or Love on the Brains series to read this, but it will, of course, make more sense. I imagine this taking place much later - in about a year after the events of Love on the Brain; divider by firefly-graphics

In my body I fight fire With the snow, my hell is cold (SYML – Body)

This shouldn’t have happened. This nevershouldn’t have happened but it had – of course it had. You should have seen it coming, both the action and the reaction. All of you should have known better, but you in particular.

Unfortunately, sometimes, despite your ability to profile people, you still failed.

Sometimes, despite your best knowledge of Steven Grant Rogers, you still managed to underestimate him. His literally unhuman body. His profoundly good heart. His incredible strength in both muscles and psyche. His ability to have you burn for him with a single touch. His ability to touch your heart in ways no one ever could.

His extraordinary dumbassery.

You really should have known so much better.

If you had, you wouldn’t have him here, face ashen, lips turning blue, eyes wide and unfocused; he looked like death itself.

You swallowed your tears and tried to battle the ever-rising panic crawling up your throat, closing your eyes for a moment as if it could erase the terrifying sight.

“Steve? Stevie? You’re going to be okay… I’m here. You’re going to be okay…”

You repeated the mantra so many times you weren’t sure anymore whether you were saying it to him or to yourself.

The craziest thing was, it wasn’t even the worst sight of the day you were offered by your exceptional dumbass of a boyfriend; no, that had been what your own mind had shown you. Now that image was going to haunt you forever and despite knowing yelling solved nothing and it couldn’t change the past, you were going to scream your lungs out when you’d get the chance. Later. Right now, you had more pressing matters to attend to.

Like making sure Steve Rogers, your GG, would come back to you.

You needed to get to work.

It was a routine mission really, if such things as routine existed within the Avengers Initiative. It was rather routine in terms of involvement of the actual Avengers; Steve and Natasha joined missions like these – sweep a base, gather intel, make some arrests if lucky enough – on a regular basis. Tony Stark coming with? Less so. Still, one could call it routine enough, even when located in the death of tundra in Russia around 100 miles from the border with Finland.

Besides the cold and Tony, there was nothing extraordinary. Just another mission.

And it had been; until the agents scattered and you heard several voices in the comms reporting they were in pursuit of the enemies. Until you found out they were chasing them through the tunnels and suddenly found themselves outside of the base. Until you learned that outside meant the landscape of the very frozen lake Natasha had purposely avoided landing the quinjet on for the fear of the heavy aircraft destabilizing the already risky environment.

Until you heard agent Smith was down. And by down, they meant under the ice, because a thinner layer of it cracked and broke under his feet. Until Steve fucking Rogers, two hundred and forty pounds of muscle and zero brain power at the moment had the wonderful idea to rush to Smith’s aid.

You had made it out of the base just in time to see his navy-blue suit disappear and your sleep for the following nights probably with it. You had stood there holding your breath as if you were the one in the icy water, as if subconsciously testing how much oxygen – as if that was the only concern – you had left before you’d have to make it to the surface for another breath.

It was long. It was too long. You had taken at least two breaths in the meantime and you weren’t sure the panic rising in your chest with every frantic beat of your heart, with every second they did not appear above the surface, was to blame.

Your hand flew to your comms and you cursed yourself for not having done it moments ago.

“Tony-“

“I’m onto those idiots, Squirt, don’t worry,” his voice sounded in your ear, not quite easing your worry in fact.

Steve was still under. Still in the water. Even though you were aware that he survived much worse than a few seconds of icy cold water – try decades – you’d rather he was still conscious when Tony would get his stupid ass out. And the second Steve would be able to hear you, were going to yell, very loudly and probably more than a little hysterical, because what the hell had he been doing beside tempting fate to give him another involuntary icy nap. You were going to chew the hell out of him, your fists curling in your thick microfibre gloves, because you felt like punshing him too, anything, just so you could stop holding your breath.

But you needed him to get out first.

“And get to the jet, your bae will need some warming up,” Tony added, causing you to grit your teeth, even as you were grateful; not a second later, the whoosh of Iron Man’s suit flying above your head blew the few stands of hair that escaped your hat in your face.

Completely ignoring Tony’s inappropriate comment and his sound advice, you remained right where you stood, gaze transfixed where you had last seen Steve, slipping under the surface. Your pulse thundered in your temples as you watched the red and gold of Tony’s suit fly like a flare above the flood of white surrounding you all, nearing the break in the ice, no doubt searching the heat signatures you assumed were fading with each passing moment.

And then the Iron Man himself performed an obnoxious superhero-like landing, complete with fist on the ground and your anger, gathering since you saw Steve dive into a fucking ice soup without a second thought, exploded, your vision turning bloody red for a split second. What the fuck was Stark doing that for?! Did he really just feed his ego while on a rescue mission?! You were going to-

And then the fist landed again. And again and again and then it hit you. You didn’t have the capacity to scold yourself for assuming and assuming completely wrong; the realization stunned you, blood freezing in your veins having nothing to do with the snow and harsh wind hitting your face.

The ice had frozen over. Steve jumped in and before he could emerge, the ice had frozen over his head. The image of a him under water, holding Smith, the fucking moron, to his chest and fighting to punch his way through the solid surface, swinging his arm heavily through the icy water stinging every inch of his skin, losing oxygen by the minute, that was an image that would haunt you forever, even as you had never set your eyes on it.

Then again, the arm of Tony’s suit diving into water and pulling out two men as easily as if they were helpless kittens was etched into your brain just as effectively, arriving with overwhelming relief. With a wordless prayer on your lips, you squinted against the snow blowing in your face to search for a lump of beloved and hated navy blue suit contrasting against the endless white of the plain surrounding the incident.

You’d swear you could hear him coughing, hungrily drinking in air in between when he doubled over as soon as Tony dropped him off in a safe distance from the crack. In the back of your mind, you were aware of the red and gold figure carrying the motionless body of Agent Smith, flying it to the quinjet, the medical team having prepared on the ramp with a stroller and equipment, but your eyes were transfixed on the dark mass of a supersoldier good hundred feet away still. You were almost certain, even from the distance, that he also managed to empty his stomach to make him feel even more miserable. Not that you blamed him; it had to be, apart from really fucking cold, extremely terrifying. It definitely was for you. Just the memory made your feel throat as if squeezed in a vice.

“Yeah, yeah, don’t worry, pick-up number two happening right away,” Tony assured you face-to face, uncharacteristically humourless now that he had set eyes on the momentarily lifeless body of Agent Smith.

You thought you uttered a thank you, but he couldn’t hear it as he was already off to carry your exceptionally idiotic boyfriend along. And so you ran to the jet, boots heavy with snow falling in and biting coldly into your calf and shins, legs stiff from the shock of the experience still.

When Tony finally brought Steve after what felt like a lifetime, you certainly didn’t speak a word of complaint when he also hauled him further into the quinjet into one of the medical cubicles sans a team. You followed, painfully aware of every single muscle in Steve’s body trembling, the tips of his fingers having turned white.

“You can yell at him first,” Tony told you graciously, shooting Steve an ugly look before glancing at you entering just behind them.

“Gee thanks,” you snarked back automatically, tone softening when you met his genuinely worried eyes. “Thank you, Tony, really.”

“Whatever,” he scoffed, but a small smile passed over his lips. “Jarvis, heat up this room for our Capsicle, will you?”

You rolled your eyes at the nickname. Steve wasn’t going to live that down any time soon, probably ever, not after attempting to became an icicle for the second time.

“Certainly, sir. Gradually heating up to 25 degrees Celsius, as recommended in the medical manual,” the AI chimed helpfully, the wave of heat washing over you instantly. The air felt almost tropical after the arctic wind outside, but you were grateful. Steve would need that.

“Thanks, J,” you said, throwing off your gloves, hat and parka as quick as you managed with your fingers freezing, not bothering with more as to help Steve strip his soaking garments as soon a possible.

The silence that settled after rang a sudden alarm bells; it dawned to you at last that during the whole exchange, Steve remained quiet. Way too quiet.

You’d expect the sounds of zippers and Velcro as he was tearing off his uniform, the fabric dripping icy cold water despite the best engineers and designers having worked on the material. You’d expect his teeth to clatter in doing so, colourful curses on his blueish lips, especially when in company of only you and Tony. He had been coughing out water, quite violently, barely just having been dropped in the jet, so you’d think his air-ways would still fight spasm and the biting intrusion of ice, the raspy wet cough not ceasing.

But Steve was doing neither of that, tripling your worry for him in the process.

You moved to round him to get a look at him with an urgent whisper of his name, stomach flipping in fear when he didn’t answer.

The lack of any action or sound was incredibly disconcerting, because it could mean two things: either, he was absolutely stunned, the weight of what could have happened finally falling on him, or he had been already struck by hypothermia severe enough to be acutely in danger despite being a far cry from what Smith had looked like when Tony dropped him off.

When you finally laid your eyes on Steve’s face, your heart nearly stopped. His skin was scarily pale, his lips turning alarming blue, but that, while worrying, wasn’t surprising at all. What shocked you was his eyes; his pupils were blown wide, unfocused, misted over to the point that had he been lying on the ground, you’d swear he was--

Do not even think it. You can’t. He was going to be fine, he was alright, he just needed to warm up, he was not—He was very much alive, you were sure of it, he had to be. But the fact was, Steve couldn’t see you. He wasn’t seeing anything.

With horror, your gaze fell to his chest and in a split second, you realized that his whole body was still. Way too still. He wasn’t moving at all; he wasn’t even breathing. And yet, he was standing upright, almost as if his feet simply froze to the ground and that was the only reason why he hadn’t collapsed yet- But you knew, you knew that wasn’t possible, and despite the panic clawing at your throat, you were hundred percent certain that he wouldn’t be standing upright had his heart stopped, so how was he still standing?

It would be baffling if it wasn’t absolutely terrifying. Why was he so still? It literally looked as if he was frozen, as if-

He was frozen.

When it finally clicked, a choked noise erupted from lips, your heart shattering into thousand pieces; but your mind snapped into action, already working on solutions.

“Tony, get us as many of towels, blankets and those small heat packs, as you can manage  and give me full access to J. Make sure we have complete privacy. No one needs to see this.” Your throat was too tight for you to be able to speak on normal volume, but that was the least of your concerns, truly. You were sure Tony heard you just fine.

At least someone did.

“Kinky-?” Tony uttered, confused by your sudden escalated panic and the look you shot him – if looks could kill, he’d already be lying in a pool of his blood.

“Tony, get your ass fucking moving or I’ll swear to god I’ll strangle you in a way that will make Sam McDowell look like an amateur.”

Whether he knew the name of the prolific serial strangler or simply understood the urgency in your tone, he had enough wit to take his leave without further protest and with relative hurry, leaving you focus fully on Steve. Oh Steve. The absent brilliant blue of his irises had your stomach make another unpleasant somersault, your eyes filling with tears, nose tingling in anticipation of a full sobfest.

You so couldn’t afford that now. You couldn’t afford screaming either, but good god, did you want to – you wanted to stand in front of a mirror and scream your lungs out because how could it have not punched you straight in the face right away? How could you have not seen it coming?! You only had years of experience in profiling, with dealing individuals struggling with PTSD among other things. You only known Steve for years, knew what he had endured. You only learned about the sacrifice of Captain America in high school, several years ago.

God, the icy water. Could there be any more obvious and deadly trigger?

Of course Steve’s gaze was absent, his whole mind was. He wasn’t here with you, not in time and not in space; he was in the water. In a water so icy it was turning solid, trapping him for decades to come. People couldn’t breathe under water. People couldn’t breathe when frozen in a mass of ice.

Now you understood the reason for the absolute stillness of his whole body including his chest. Steve’s mind was locked so firmly into the memory that it either shut his body – because logically, he wouldn’t be able to breathe, let alone move in the prison he found himself in – or it latched onto his survival instinct, screaming at him not to breathe to prevent the water flooding into his lungs.

You fought your instinct to gag when the iron fist that realization hit you square in the stomach and sent bile up your throat.

So not the time. You needed him to snap out of it. And you needed it fast before you’d lose any more precious seconds.

“Steve?” you called out lowly, giving zero shit about the crack in your voice. “Stevie? You’re going to be okay, but I need you to breathe. Can you do that for me?” you pleaded.

Grimacing, you released an involuntarily whimper when you got zero reaction. You pushed through the lump in your throat, forcing yourself to repeat the words in normal volume. The only response you got was the ever-present unnatural stillness; and Steve’s lips gradually turning bluer.

Your thoughts whirled in your head, mind desperately trying to latch onto any knowledge and experience you had with dealing with PTSD. You had never encountered someone with similar problem, never dealt with a flashback of this magnitude; Gideon had once taken the lead with a soldier trapped in his mind, murdering civilians for he believed them to be enemy soldiers, but that was Gideon. Jason Gideon, with his mind of steel and twenty-five years of experience. Jason Gideon, one of the founding fathers of the Behaviour Analysis Unit himself.

On your own, you were at loss with someone so far gone; but what you knew had to be enough. What you knew was that the only way of breaking Steve out of the prison his mind had created was to anchor him in reality, to appeal to all his senses.

The problem was that the majority of stimuli Steve was receiving from his senses matched the very environment of his flashback. The reality you would try to ground him in was his clothes soaking wet in freezing water and him being on a planewith a voice of a woman in his ears, trying to sooth his suffering. In other words, the reality was how he ended up buried in the ice in the first place.

Aware that you were shaking like a leaf yourself, jaw set so tight it was beginning to hurt, you were also painfully aware you couldn’t just stand there doing nothing with cheeks wet with tears and stare at the strongest person you had ever knew involuntarily depriving himself of oxygen. You had to do something.

Touching him was, frankly, a terrible idea; touching anyone with a flashback would be, because you’d be risking triggering a fight or flight response instead. Touching Steve and triggering the fight part in a supersoldier however, get him run on pure instinct? Now that could result in your broken neck or crushed windpipe really quickly. That idea truly didn’t sound appealing to you; and Steve would never forgive himself. You’d rather avoid that.

You took a deep breath, releasing the air shakily as your mind raced. Alright. Time. If you couldn’t ground him in space, you needed to ground him in time.

“Steve, GG, look at me. I’m Agent Jones – I’m Sparkles,” you said urgently, taking care to voice every syllable, daring to step an inch closer to him, hoping to fill his field of vision completely. “And I’m right here with you. There’s no water. Nothing’s stopping me or you from breathing.” You exaggerated an inhale and exhale, the warm air washing over his face, but without any effect. “There’s plenty of air, GG, for both you and me. Please.”

You dug your nails into your palms when nothing happened but your love staring back blankly, unnaturally stiff.

Steve could hold his breath for a long time – much more than an average human, his lung capacity unmatched – but he had also been drowning, so you really couldn’t count on that. You were running out of time. He was going to pass out. Sure, his breathing would kick in then and hell, maybe losing consciousness would be a blessing compared to this, but that sleep would not be peaceful and there was no telling what the wake-up call would look like other than really fucking unpleasant. The idea of him escaping one nightmare only to be find himself in another and then another until he woke up to the reality just as harsh, as if freshly having lost the whole world he knew all over again, chased fresh tears into your eyes.

“What’s wrong?” Tony’s voice snapped you from your focus, your heart nearly bursting through your chest.

Jesus, how long had he been standing there?

Not important; and you didn’t have time to explain. Without thinking, you spilled the truth in as few words as possible, in the very same breath you tried to appeal to Steve again, your gaze never shifting from his pale face.

“He’s having a flashback, please leave, thank you for the blankets-- GG, please. Breathe with me, there’s nothing to be afraid of, I promise. I’m right here. Trust me. I can breathe just fine…”

You could not. You felt as if someone smashed your ribs with a crowbar for laughs and hit and hit until you couldn’t breathe in without blinding pain, but you knew, you knew it had to be nothing compared to what Steve was facing and you needed to get a grip, you couldn’t wallow in it and you couldn’t let the biting fear consume you. Not with Steve like this.

You were out of other options. Gulping, you oh so slowly lifted your trembling hand, settling it against Steve’s ashen cold cheek. You only got as far as your skin brushing his when a vice-like grip on your wrist stopped you, tearing your touch away and completely immobilizing your hand in the process.

He didn’t look at you as you hissed in pain; he was still far, far away, not moving an inch more than strictly necessary to stop you. But the jolt of pain into your wrist was accompanied by a loud gasp for air, his ribcage expanding right in front of your eyes.

A wet laugh escaped you. “Oh thank god.”

His fingers might as well be made of ice, just as freezing and just as rigid, clutching at you with all the might his body was probably capable off and it hurt. But at least it wasn’t your throat in his grip; you could both breathe. That was a tremendous win.

You still needed to anchor him further and actually bring him back, but the door to his mind were unlocked at least. Now you needed to appeal to all his senses, talk him through it, so he could open the door himself.

“Agent Jones? Do you require assistance?” Jarvis asked warily, no doubt reacting to your physical distress.

Rightfully so, because it was growing – if it was possible, Steve’s fingers dug further into your flesh, already making for a bruise, you were sure. Your fingertips begun to tingle, strange numbness spreading through your hand, but you were far too gone to give up now. You could handle this. You’d get Steve release you on his own.

“Not for now, J, thank you. We’re good—actually, Jarvis?” you called out lowly, the artificial intelligence instantly letting you know he listened. “Can you play me a song? I need to get Steve in the modern times.”

“Certainly. What would you like me to play, Agent Jones? Something contemporary?”

“Yeah. Contemporary and irritatingly ear-worming,” you muttered, mind racing.

A song Steve would hundred percent know, one his mind would without a single doubt identify as something modern. It was the biggest assholery of your mind to push the melody of Let It Go into the forefront of your overstressed brain before anything else, but a hysterical chuckle escaped you anyway, forcing you to lick off tears from your lips. It was the stupidest thing and the worst irony ever – because yeah, the cold really fucking bothered you now and it sure bothered Steve.

“Something way too overplayed on a radio, preferably without the words cold, snow, ice and such in it, J.”

It was only half a second later, when Taylor Swift’s Shake It Off came out the speakers.

Despite yourself, you snorted, fresh tears springing out. This time, you appreciated the irony. That was what Steve needed, right? He just needed to shake it off. He’d be fine.

Taking a deep breath, smiling through your tears and the growing pains in your wrist, you got to work.

You told him what he was hearing. The engines, the song, the heating running, your voice. You told him what he could see, your hair, the colour of your eyes, the Avengers logo etched onto your uniform and not an SSR one, the high-tech equipment you knew he could have never seen in his original time. You told him about the heat washing over his face and hair, your hand in his.

The owlish, painfully slow blink you elicited was a victory, bringing a smile to your face, drying your tears, bringing a softer and softer tone to your voice as you continued speaking.

“Steve? GG? I know it’s cold and I want to help you,” you said gently, trying to meet his gaze as it began to slowly roam to room; still absent, but not misted over anymore. “I could help you by taking off that wet suit, taking away the cold. But for that, I need you to let go of my hand so I can-“

You gritted your teeth and squeezed your eyes shut when the response you got was the exact opposite, as if he was mad at you for even suggesting it; you stifled the whimper at the prickling his grip sent through your arm. It was hard to tell whose hand was paler now; he definitely cut off your circulation and it was not a pretty sight. But you only had yourself to blame and you promised yourself you’d never do otherwise.

It was only when the numbness replaced the pain that it dawned to you where the problem might be.

“GG, please? I promise I won’t leave. I’ll stay right here with you. But I need you to release my hand so I can take that cold away. Only the cold, I swear.”

You nearly cried when the pressure on your wrist gradually eased, a shaky exhale sounding a lot like a whine escaping you. That was most definitely more than a bruise; you allowed yourself a few seconds of deep breaths, fighting off the dark edge in your vision.

Then, you grabbed after one of the small heating pads, snapping the thin metal plate inside to initiate a chemical reaction; in an instant, the thick liquid began to solidify and warm up. You placed in into Steve’s still open palm, hanging loosely by his side, enclosing his icy fingers around it despite the gloves getting in the way. You winced at the sharp pain shooting through your arm. Definitely more than a bruise. You repeated the process to warm up his other hand, finally going for the Velcros and zippers on the front of his suit.

Thankfully, the temperature Jarvis had set melted the microcrystals of ice around the metal, allowing you to undo it relatively easy. You felt Steve’s eyes on your now, his body slowly, oh so slowly getting on with the programme, fists unclenching when you needed to pull the sleeves over his hands without dropping the pads.

“You’re doing so good, Stevie, so good,” you praised him softly, loud enough to speak over the second playing of the song in the background. You were going to hear it for days, you were certain. And you’d hate it forever, too. “You’re a great help, GG, thank you.”

When he dropped the pads, you made a quick work of undoing his gloves too, before pushing new pads into his hands. His thick pants followed; the boots though, those were trickier.

Fuck this. You swiftly searched the transparent cabinets for scalpel, slicing the material through as carefully as you could with your still trembling hands. The water was still brutally cold against your fingers; and your wrist was beginning to throb. Almost there, you soothed yourself, wondering whether you’d manage to make Steve sit down so you could take off those boots and the pants… and underpants. You’d rather have him keep his dignity, but his boxer shorts were soaked through as well and way too close to his core… maybe if you placed enough heating pads around…

The truth was that despite your instincts screaming at you, you knew you didn’t have to worry that much about the physical effects of the low temperature on him. As awful as it sounded, you knew he could take the icy cold – that was part of the problem. It was the numbing memory constructing the perfect trap for his mind, the dissociation, that took precedence, as unusual as it was. And if you weighted the pros and cons…

Well. It wasn’t like his dick was going to freeze right off.

You stood to your full height, licking your lips as you faced Steve again. He was watching you now with surprising intent; you tried to give him a reassuring smile, raising your unharmed hand slowly enough for him to register and placed it on his ribs, almost under the armpit, ready to support him in case his muscles didn’t quite respond to his command as expected when you’d ask him to sit down.

What you didn’t expect was for him to crumble under your touch.

Over two hundred pounds of muscle was too much for your body to carry. When he leaned onto you without a single warning, his knees giving way, dropping his whole weight on your shoulders, you tumbled to the ground as you were without a real chance to slow down the fall. Your hands instinctively attempted too, but you knew you could add bruised backbone and your other wrist to the list on your injuries.

And while pain briefly shot through you very bones, you soon didn’t give a damn.

Not when Steve buried his face in the crook of your neck, arms gripping onto your body like as if it was a lifeline, harsh breaths and heartbreaking sobs escaping his lips, shaking his usually strong frame; but maybe that was just shivers from the cold. His skin was still almost icy to touch, his nose like an icicle as he pressed to your collarbone over your thermals, wet hair tickling your chin; his pants at his ankles, his boots, barely keeping together, still as his feet. You let them be as they were. Instead of stripping him further, you managed to reach for at least one of the pads and throw it into his lap, the blankets and towels too far away.

You enclosed Steve in a hug, achy hand carefully resting in his hair, the other running soothing circles on his back in a poor attempt to console him. His tears seeped into your shoulder and you never cared less for anything in your life; yours in return disappeared into his hair. Sweet nonsenses were spilling from your lips, drowned in his ragged sobs; you whispered his name over and over, his name and all endearments that came to mind and even remotely fit him. I’ve got you, love. Sweetheart, I’m here, sweet, I’m here… oh GG, my gentle giant, giant heart, I’ve got you, this will pass, I’ll help, I’ll help, I’ll help you stand up again. You’re doing so well. I’m so proud of you, baby, so proud…

The song, thank god, stopped playing as soon as Steve broke.

You could feel his body weighting a ton, every muscle weary, strung and feeble at once, and yet, it was his mind making for most of the weight he couldn’t bear. Feelings he normally hid behind a wall as tall as Tower of Babel so he could lead others into battle with a brave face now oozed off him and soaked your skin and mind. You could only imagine the onslaught of emotions and memories, reminders of all he lost, the ghost of having woken up in the new millennium for the first time looming over him.  

The way his fingers dug into your forearm, clutched at the flesh of your waist, it would hurt later; but at the moment, those long agonizing minutes that felt like an eternity, you barely felt it, instead consumed by overwhelming grief for the kindest and strongest soul you had ever met. The best man, breaking in front of your eyes and in your arms.

It took long minutes before you dared to move, just enough to reach for the blanket and strip him off the pants and shoes at least. You never went too far. The volume of your voice decreased along with Steve’s, along with the tremble of his exhausted body. He melted into your frame, falling asleep right there, held in your considerably weaker arms and you were grateful.

In a low voice, you asked Jarvis to notify Steve’s therapist – and yours, even if with less urgency. The worst of it was over, but you weren’t naïve as to think that just because the storm was over, there would be no damage and no need for restoration.

For now, you held Steve and tried to keep him warm, not blind to the fact his body combined with Jarvis’ service was already drying off the last piece of clothing he wore. You ran the fingers of your unharmed hand through the golden damp strands of his hair, pressing a kiss to his forehead every now and then, hoping his sleep was dreamless.

Minutes or hours later, Natasha was the one to find you still curled one into other, gently telling you that everyone had already left the jet and that she’d send medics over in a few. You gave her a brave smile even as you were feeling everything but, your adrenalin wearing off and leaving you on the brink of breaking yourself.

When two medics rolled Steve away and you followed, refusing to move an inch farther from Steve than necessary just in case he’d unexpectedly wake up, a third one forced you to take an x-ray as your hand was already swelling.

As it turned out, there was a crack in both your ulna and radius, the mass, however strong, having been unable to withstand Steve’s strength. The swelling was bothering your nerves and your veins, hence the painful tingles and numbness; but in the end, they were just cracks. They’d heal.

Cracks actually usually hurt more than complete breaks, Doctor Jackson told you. You thought it was quite fitting. What Steve had experienced was not a break, for he was never broken; you weren’t certain he could be. It was but a crack; the foundation of who he was had so far been strong enough to withstand horrors unimaginable. And even though the cracks hurt like a bitch, you’d be there for him to help him through the pain.

The cracks in your bones could be solved by a few pills and rest; his would be a little more complicated.

But you’d help build him up again. You’d help him stand tall. Not for the sake of Captain America, the shining beacon of hope, the façade that could be speedpaint with shines of red, blue and white with ease. No, you’d help repair the real cracks for Steve, the gentlest of giants you knew, even if it would take more time and effort than an icon.

He was worth the trouble; even as you suspected that once he’d wake, he might have a thing or two to say about that. You’d convince him otherwise; you wouldn’t be alone.

And neither would he.

With a splint all over your forearm and wrist and a promise you would do a session in Doctor Cho’s cradle to speed the healing, you settled on the bed by Steve’s bedside, the surprisingly serene expression on his face and the gentle beeps of the heart monitor making for a warm hum of satisfaction in your chest.

You’d heal together. Of that, you were sure.

I was hearing words in black and white Twisted up inside my broken mind Outstretched dirty hands just like a child Hungry little fool, but you were mine (SYML – Body)

Steve Rogers masterlist // Love on The Brain masterlist

Notes (because the first aid trainer in me screams and severe hypothermia is a bitch): normally, first concern would most definitely be the cold, hypothermia and the impending arrhythmia (can be caused by the cold), but a) it was established Steve’s body can take it (proved the hard way) and b) his suit probably kept the absolutely worst away… PSA over.

ANYWAY. I hope you – well – liked it ("enjoyed" feels like a little too strong of a word for Steve’s suffering) 🥰 Thank you for reading! Feedback is life.

P.S. – this will likely be followed by a second part called Restoration, but I make no promises.

P.P.S. - if you wish to read a fluff about "Steve fell through frozen lake" situation, I recommend Frozen by @tilltheendwilliwrite 🥰

P.P.P.S. -  if you are a CM fan, know that the title is a loose reference to Emily's issues in the second half of season seven when she tries to re-settle down with the team and at Quantico.

[rainbowsuitcase]

More SteveTony soulmate crack where Howard Ruins Everything

That AU where you have the name of your soulmate on one arm and the name of your enemy on the other and Steve has Howard's and Tony's names.

He thinks Howard is the soulmate and gets to the present geared up to hate Tony, except it turns out Howard is the enemy because after finding out what a shit father he was to Tony, Steve wants nothing but to go back in time and kill him

[missmarveledsblog]

SOMEONE OLDER ( TONY STARK X READER)

summary : when boys your age just don't do it for you but someone older does  .

warnings : age gap ( legal one before anyone is calling svu )  mutual pining , no pepper in this universe  

" nat I'm done dating the dude brought me to a strip club and gave me ones to tip the dancers " Y/n huffed walking into the main living room. " Jesus and I thought my dating life was bad " bucky snorted dodging the incoming pillow . " guys my age suck " she pouted sitting down beside the widow  placing her head on nats shoulder. " date me and we can live our best lives " nat smirked poking her side. " I would but bruce won't share " she rolled her eyes . " I'll deal with him " she chuckled .  " well you could always date me doll " bucky wiggled his brows . " i'm already in therapy  no thank you " she stuck her tongue out at the man . " well  i would of gave you fives for the club " he shrugged . " oh take me now " she fake swooned into the couch. " i mean i could rock your world doll " he stood walked towards her thinking he had the edge . " and i'd break you " she looked up making bucky freeze in his spot . "  i think you just did that " sam fell over laughing . " that's my girl " nat hugged her. " damn it she goes all doe eyes and says shit like that " he grumbled in his defeat. "  it's ok we can hit the club i might have a connection with one of the dancers at this rate " she sighed. " what about the crush "  sam looked around . " just a crush i mean not going to go anywhere other than that " she pouted. " can't believe you've the hots  for stark and not me " bucky teased . " i like older men,  not one from the great depression " she rolled her eyes . "  she a match for stark with that mouth of her " bucky chuckled .  " a lot this mouth could can do boy " she hopped up while nat laughed at the mens gaping mouths .  " see you later malyshka" nat called after her. " bye nat love you " she called back .  

she roamed around compound not really knowing what to do , i mean she had the choice of working out with steve but that was hard pass , maybe working on her computer in the lab would kill time .  she could see bruce and tony already working away on whatever, it's like the two lived in the confines of  that part of the  compound. " hey kiddo how was the date " bruce called . " bust like major bust " she groaned heading to her computer. " well i mean his name was chad " tony chuckled . " he brought me to a strip club, he out chadded any future chads " she rolled her eyes. " hey tony could you come with me i need your help " bruce smiled taking the billionaire gaze off the girl . " with what ?" tony head shot towards the fellow science bro . " snack run  can't carry it so come on , you want anything kiddo? " he asked. " oh cookies and chips please " she looked up excitedly. " coming up " tony smiled brightly. " course it is " bruce muttered . " why don't you make a move man even i can see you like her " bruce whispered as they walked down the hall . " she's too young  plus i mean who say she even likes me , she always around barnes " tony shrugged .  " she doesn't like me stark  " bucky made the two men jump at his sudden appearance . " yeah ok, you guys are always flirting " he rolled his eyes . " no i'm always flirting and she shooting me down with sarcastic comment it's our thing ,  i love her like a best friend  " he chuckled grabbing himself a plum as they began snack hunting . " still she same age as parker and he's called me dad way too many times " he grimaced. " maybe she can call you daddy " nat walked by   with a wink before  kissing bruce on the cheek.  " we don't even know if she likes me i've flirted with her and it does nothing " he said not feeling his usual cocking ego filled  self , a first for tony stark he was sure of that . " you flirt with everyone even F.R.I.D.A.Y " nat deadpanned . " hey honey feel like watching a movie" bruce kissed her cheek , hint of mischief in his words .   " i guess i'll bring the snacks to the lab " tony  picked them up . " hey here's a bottle of that tea stuff she like" nat threw it across the room . " thanks i guess " he walked out wondering would he actually make a move on not . again it was all new for tony he was used to women making the move throwing  themselves at him  yet here he was wondering how to make a move . He wondered if this was how tiny capsicle felt ? .

she sat so stuck in her work she barely noticed tony approaching  hands filled with snacks until the door opened. " where's banner " she tilt her head she was sure the two left together. " with his girlfriend , probably afraid your gonna steal her on him " he smirked handing her the cookies , chips and bottle of ice tea. " i will so he should be scared " she giggled . " so no luck on these dates ?" he knew it was ridiculous fishing around god he felt the kid . " most definitely not i think  i'm destined to be single , i mean guys my age just wanna hump and dump and that's cool but after a while you kinda want more " she sighed looking down at her cookie. " i get that , i mean sleeping around is great but when you're looking for more it's get boring " he nodded. " yeah except you sleep with actresses and models not same thing , like douchebag last night brought me to a strip club because he found out i was bisexual " she laughed dryly . " i'm still finding glitter and i've showered twice" she grimaced. " why not date someone older " he smiled softly. " i would if i could find anyone that took me serious , i mean again they treat you like kid i'm clearly smart and have a head on my shoulders , been taking care of myself since i was like 16 and yet they think i can't do shit for myself or after their money like" she groaned.  " well  it's official  the male species is doomed , i mean not to take such a beautiful smart intelligent woman like you and see how lucky they are, i really should of let loki take over " he smiled as she giggled. " thanks stank  know how to make a girl feel special" she smiled feeling slightly better well she would if the stupid brain of her would calm down as well as her heart rate.  " crazy yet brilliant thought ,  we go on a date , i mean your beautiful  and i'm  gorgeous , i take you serious most of the time and well i know your worth " he stood straight up looking as she slowly looked up at him . " you wanna date me, like as in you tony hot science iron man stark wants to date me " . " yeah i think i said as much " he chuckled. " when " she asked thinking she was asleep cause this was clearly a dream . " well how's tonight sound for you " he walked over leaning slightly over her desk before she shot up  and it came out before her brain even registered the audible glup . " she said yes " bucky called making the both of them jump . " what the fuck are you a cat " she held her chest. " nah but this was fun to watch , good on you stark " he smiled walking off. " i'm getting a bell for him " she laughed once the fright and shock wore off. "so  you'll go on date with me " he asked biting his lip . " i mean you did say i should date someone older " she kissed his cheek walking out of the lab calming once out of his sight she high balled it to nat help her get ready .  

[buckywiththegoodhair86]

Team Cap Memes Part the Tenth. (Parts 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9.)

[winterironrox]

A Break In

Starring: Tony Stark, Steve Rogers, and Jarvis (A.I.).

Tony Stark’s Basement Lab, Avengers Tower.

“Jay, run the sequence again would you,” Tony mumbles through a yawn.

The screens remain the same. “Jay? You there buddy?”

Jarvis doesn’t respond. Suddenly, the lights turn off and all the screens vanish. Tony stands from his bent position as the lab doors swish open. A big shadowed figure stocks toward him.

The device Tony was working on clatters to the ground. A large hand grabs him by the upper arm. Tony feels a pinch in his neck. He then collapses into a hard fabric covered surface passing out cold.

Communal Kitchen, Avengers Tower.

“Stevil.”

Steve sighs heavily in response. “Tony, I just banned you from the lab for three days. That’s it, “ He chides, crossing to Tony who appears to be seconds away from pouring coffee all over the counter.

“Evil Steve. You are evil.”

Steve takes the coffee pot from Tony, pours the dark liquid until it’s half an inch from the top of Clint’s Pinkie Pie mug, adds a heaping teaspoon of sugar; then crosses to the fridge and adds a splash of creamer. Just the way the genius likes it.

“I never thought I’d see the day that Mr. Good turns into the worst villain imaginable.”

“Tony it’s three days. You can spend them sleeping for all I care. In fact that probably wouldn’t be a bad idea considering the position you were in when I dragged you out of the lab.” Steve hands Tony the mug making sure he has both hands on it.

“I was absolutely fine before you barged in.”

“You could barely stand and you had screws stuck to your neck.”

“I was perfectly able to stand. You don’t think maybe I just wanted to hug you so I could try and love the evil out of you. It’s not my fault love doesn’t conquer all. As for the screws, things just end up places so again not my fault.”

Tony shuffles toward the table. Steve follows behind with his hands out to catch Tony if he falls again.

They take seats next to each other. Steve picks up the smoothie he made himself earlier that morning grimacing at its now room temperature.

“And you, Jarvis, don’t think you’re off the hook. You conspired with Stevil. I nearly had a heart attack when you didn’t respond and everything shut off.”

“I apologize sir. It was not my or Captain Rogers intention to alarm you in any way. But if I may, sir? You did mute me before when I tried to request for you to retire for a few hours.”

“I don’t remember doing that.”

Jarvis plays a recording of Tony four and a half hours earlier with slurred words telling Jarvis to zip it and then Tony on the recording makes a loud squeal as something catches on fire. They hear Dum-E beeping in excitement before the recording stops.

“Okay fine, maybe a day off won’t kill me”

“You’re still not allowed back in the lab for three days, Shellhead. Jarvis and I will make sure of it.”

“Jarvis, alert the media that Captain American is a super villain.”

“Should I include the video of Mr. Rogers carrying you to the living room, gently depositing you onto the couch, and placing a blanket over you with that message?”

“He’s corrupted my child. I’ll never be able to stop them both.”

Steve tries to smother the laughter building inside him. Tony is just too cute when he’s being this ridiculous. “Tony, we just want you to take a break. We care about you.”

Tony rises from the table and turns tired red eyes to Steve, “Stevil.”

He looks at the camera in the corner of the room, “Jarvil.”

The genius then stomps out of the kitchen with authority minus when he stumbles and knocks his shoulder into the door frame.

Steve erupts with laughter.

[gelu-the-babosa-multiversal]

Thor!Cody came back to my mind and for an ¨unknown¨ reason I think that Cap would choose Kade as his disciple in this universe

I feel that it would be like ¨young man I see that you are jealous of your brother so I'll teach you some humility ¨ and drags him out of the house to play with the shield

I like that Kade is overprotected of Cody and it is clear that he uses his ego to hide his insecurities but at times Pumpkinhead crosses the line and just says/does things without taking into account how others would feel/react

So Steve will fix that while Thor teaches Cody how to throw the hammer properly.

[eloquentlytired]

steve rogers the type to say “what could go wrong” then everything goes wrong and then he makes it worse by saying “it could be worse” and then it gets worse.