#captain america mug
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peacelovengranola · 2 years ago
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No. 1 Ass-vengers
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stevetony-quotes · 2 years ago
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Tony's 'cap' coffee mug 💙❤️
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abuckygirlarchive · 2 years ago
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get u friends who support ur brand
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stuckytoyoulikeglue · 1 year ago
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Went pottery painting this weekend (which was super fun) and my artistic decisions were fairly inevitable... 😅
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I did opt for pastels over primaries when picking colours, so I'm not sure how well it will turn out once it's been fired, but it came out better than I was really expecting it to (especially when I was cursing my inability to draw a non-wonky star at the beginning of the session), so I'm optimistically excited.
(Assuming, of course, that it doesn't blow up in the kiln, which would suck because these are the only photos I thought to take)
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oldfangirl81 · 2 years ago
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Don't. Just don't.
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scottxlogan · 5 months ago
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Today's Marvel Heroes Fashion series features Deadpool with his morning mug showcasing Cable. Also added a closer look at his mug in case anyone was interested.
The previous versions can be found below: Captain America (Steve Rogers) Black Widow (Natasha Romanoff) Storm (Ororo Munroe) Emma Frost (White Queen)
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innorogers · 2 months ago
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Eclipse
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Steve Rogers x Reader (You / OFC)
Summary: Panic clawed up his throat — you were out there, alone, lost in the grip of something he couldn’t fight, couldn’t save you from.
Warning: Angst / Insecure Steve / Protective Steve / Desperate Protective Steve / MINORS DNI / Fight Scene / This one is a action chapter
Characters: OC, John Walker, Sam Wilson, Sharon Carter, Tony Stark, Maria Hill, Bruce Banner.
Also: Thanks in advance for repost or any feedback ❤️ Let me know if you want to be included in the taglist (DM, comment, repost and tag, whatever works)❤️ You don't need to read the previous chapters but it will definitely enhance the experience if you do.
1: Insomnia | 2: Lucid | 3: Reverie | 4: Nightmare | 5: Awakening | 6: Dusk | 7: Hypnagogia | 8: Lull | 9: Vigil
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The fear deep within Steve didn’t go away. Not even with the countless times you made love over the weekend.
He took you so hard, so rough, as if he wanted to take you deep inside him, to bury himself in the depths of your soul and become one with you; or to transform into a protective shield, merged into your skin and flesh, that would emerge whenever you needed him to protect you, guard you, and keep you safe.
But that wasn’t enough. Nothing was enough to wash away his fears to the unknown.
You awoke on Monday to find yourself in a fortress.
The compound had been overridden with the strictest and most exaggerated security protocol the entire campus had ever seen, enforced with military precision.
Steve’s expression turned steely the moment you left home; you could see the shift as he transformed into Captain America the moment he stepped into the command room, returning to Steve Rogers only in private moments with you.
He drove you to the center’s facilities as on a typical day, but this time Sam was waiting at the door to take over and escort you to the lab, where he would only leave if one of his fellow Avengers replaced him, never letting you out of sight. Neither Falcon, nor anyone else left you unguarded. Ever.
“Okay…if I didn’t know better, I’d be seriously freaking out.” Dr. Lin admitted, a little nervous, noticing the continuous Avenger presence. Whether it was Sam, Nat, Clint, even Wanda and Vision—all turned up for shifts. Sometimes, the Captain himself took a shift, posted against a wall or seated on a bench, eyes alert and scrutinizing anyone who might look remotely suspicious.
“Like...What's going on? Is Cap so insecure about that military guy hitting on you that a tracking device isn’t enough? Now we have surveillance?” Robert whispered while working at the station beside you. “Everyone’s kind of freaking out, you know? We don’t usually get this level of attention.” He adjusted a few screws, glancing around. “The R&D nerds being protected by the Avengers themselves? That’s a lot.”
You sighed.
A lot didn’t even come close to describing it.
Steve was so anxious about the whole situation that he even let John Walker hang around you constantly.
“The guy could be an extra pair of eyes,” said Captain America through clenched teeth, his knuckles going white.
As much as he hated to admit it, Steve didn’t detect bad intentions from John Walker—except for the irritating fact that Walker wanted to be the new Steve Rogers, along with all the prestige that came with the title, and to date Captain America’s fiancée.
But Walker’s intentions toward you were genuine, and Steve fully intended to kick his ass once this shitshow was over. So, there was John Walker—a regular in the lab now, much to the nervousness of the white coats. He wasn’t doing much harm, though he did have a habit of touching everything, asking too many questions, and getting even more irritating whenever Steve was near.
John was having a blast testing Steve’s patience, whether by using your mug, leaning in close at your desk, or resting his elbows on the back of your chair, making comments about how good you smelled, if you’d changed your perfume, or saying things like, “Hey, remember the coffee you liked last time?”
All this playful tone, smirking remarks made Steve’s veins practically bulge, ready to burst anytime John came within a meter of you.
And, to add a layer of complexity to the fun, there was Sharon.
The New Era Project was still ongoing, and the Command’s Room had decided to keep things low-key until the UN realized they were on the Avengers’ radar. Diplomatic exchanges would carry on as usual, with Walker playing the role of bodyguard without even knowing it, and Sharon just orbiting Steve and Maria, doing... well, nothing much.
She seemed to sense that the Avengers were only maintaining subtle ties, not actually invested in the project. Still, for her own reasons—personal or moral—she went along with it, and of course, it kept her close to Steve.
So, the results of all these people in your daily life were, besides a few coffee cups broken by Steve and you talking to your plants more than usual due to jealousy and frustration, that your sex life had become, well...better, much better.
Every encounter was charged with tension, jealousy, possessiveness, the urge to claim each other, constant longing, and, on Steve's side, fear and anxiety about a forecasted attack that he didn’t know when it would happen.
And they were…frequent, more than usual.
You already had these crazy weekend sex marathons after Steve discovered your Hydra-given experimented body could bear him, but now…they were happening at any place, any time.
Since that once in the dressing room after the Iron Army attack, the encounters seemed to have upgraded to a whole new level.
He'd take you, in a meeting room from behind, with only pulling down your underwear and unzipping his pants; in the lab’s bathroom when everyone was at their lunchtime; finger fuck you at the parking lot's stairways before leaving the center facilities… and if Walker had joked or played around you that day? Oh boy, you were going to be cumming fast and long. Steve’d drive you crazy, and silencing your cries with his hand so you didn’t scream his name in any public space.
Or the other way around, like that day when he heard you called the guy "John" instead of "Captain Walker" so once you were alone and at home, he made sure that was the only name leaving your lips, and the only one you'd remembered after he fucked you so hard and made you undone beneath, on top, or in whatever position he demanded that day.
And he enjoyed it too.
Sharon’s friendly touches, like her hand on his shoulder or a quick pat? Those would end with you pinning him to the wall as soon as you got home, driving him wild with abandon, letting him lose himself completely with you while cumming in your mouth or anywhere he’d want.
There was once, actually, when Sharon straightened his tie… the night ended with you on top of him, fucking him with such purpose, such intensity, that he swore that was the fastest and most satisfying orgasm he'd had in his life.
But after all the ecstasies and excitements these encounters would bring, there was something deep within Steve that you wanted to soothe, and it was his fear of losing you.
That, was not able to be washed away with any kind of desire and lust.
And you knew, it was only going to be cured with love.
So you were always there.
He woke up to you, his first sight each morning, and his last thought before sleep. You held him close, your fingers weaving through his hair, lips gently pressed to his forehead, your body resting against his, so close it was as though even your fingerprints aligned like two halves of a single puzzle.
You were there, you never made him worry, you never complained about being confined to the limits of the compound, of having surveillance on you 24/7, him shadowing you everywhere, or dealing with John or Sharon.
No. You took it all.
You shared his morning coffee, held his hand through lunch, took his desires whenever, wherever.
You’d look up from your work just to offer him a smile. You’d talk to him, hours and hours, just like the first night you’ve met, sharing with him every part of your life with him—your past, your present, your future. You filled the spaces he feared, quieted the looming dread of the unknown.
You were there.
Just as you promised, together. Always with him, by his side, easing his worries, quieting his fears.
Which is why no one understood how it happened.
It was a normal day, a regular day, actually, like any other.
But it was the beginning of Steve’s nightmare.
One that would haunt him for years. And if…if he had known. If only he’d fucking known.
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"I’m making beef stroganoff with baked asparagus tonight.” You announced, sliding some toast into the toaster and flipping through a cookbook. "And your favorite Italian wine.”
"Wow." Steve set aside his iPad. "What’s the occasion?"
"Mmm…” You smirked as you approached with a breakfast tray. "Surprise, surprise.” You kissed his cheek, enjoying the intrigued look in his eyes. "The start of a highly-anticipated weekend?”
"Really?" Steve raised an eyebrow, his gaze steady. He knew you were hinting at something more.
"Um… maybe I’m just in the mood for something romantic, intimate, and… well, that wine was just too good to pass up.”
"I thought wine didn’t have any effect on us.” Steve said, taking a sip of his coffee. "You know, the serum and… your Hydra body. Ugh, I hate saying that...I'm sorry honey.”
"Oh, is that why you drink it all at once?” You didn't even mind the Hydra comment, just teased him, genuinely curious. "Did it even have any effect, at all?”Your eyes brightened. "Woooh, can we test it? Like, let’s grab the strongest bottle we can find and see if we could actually get drunk?”
"Been there, tried that. Didn’t work.” Steve chuckled, shaking his head. "Once Thor brought some Asgardian liquor that really… tickled?”
"Wow… the stuff that aged a thousand years just made you… tickle. Remind me why we’re bothering with the wine, then?”
"Because it tastes good.” Steve let out a laugh and took a bite of toast, winking at you. "Especially with stroganoff. But come on, do tell… what’s the occasion?”
"Nothing." You said with a smile, standing up to clear the table. "Really, just excited about the weekend. It’s finally just… us.”
"Uh-huh.” Steve smiled and got up to help, wrapping his arms around your waist and kissing your neck. "Babe? You’re a terrible liar.”
You chuckled, not arguing the truth. You really were awful at lying to him. But you knew he’d respect your timing and the little surprise you had in mind for dinner that night. So you just turned around and kissed him back with a smile.
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"Do you think beef stroganoff and baked asparagus with cheese would go better with white, rosé, or red?” You asked later in the lab, from your desk.
"White.” Replied Dr. Lin and John in unison, without a second’s hesitation.
"Why does Captain Perfection always get the good stuff?” John grumbled as he picked up random gear from your desk, trying on a glove and aiming it at the wall as if he was about to shoot something. "Aren’t we friends too? Ever consider cooking for us?”
"Amen to that. Captain Perfection gets the special treatment…” Robert hummed, grinning. "Cause he’s the one who can eat without making a scene about his taste buds going wild. Be grateful, John.”He winked at him. "And seriously? I’m her friend; you’re the guy trying to cross the friend zone border and get on Captain America’s nerves.”
"Well, is the horizon close by any chance?” John said as he shot something from the gauntlet. You and Robert ducked instinctively as the rubber pellet bounced off the wall and hit John in the head.
"Yeah, I'll definitely leave my gorgeous, perfect fiancé for the guy who plays with toys and hits himself, Captain Walker.” You laughed, handing him an ice pack. "The horizon is just a step away, soldier.”
"Could you stop that, John? This is a million-dollar development!” Robert complained. "And it’s actually tailor-made for Hawkeye…” but before he could finish, a huge noise came from outside.
The walls trembled, sending deep vibrations through the floor as the lights flickered, casting erratic shadows across the room. Dust and bits of plaster cascaded from the ceiling, catching in the faint, stuttering glow—it felt like the whole building was holding its breath, caught between an earthquake’s shudder and the unmistakable force of an explosion somewhere close.
The air was thick with the scent of singed metal and faintly acrid smoke, adding an edge of urgency to the unnerving silence that followed.
You held your breath.
This is it.
The fear that was haunting Steve. The attack you were all expecting. Your hair rose in alarm, signaling the approaching danger, and a cold dread crept over you.
"Okay… I didn’t do that, did I?” John said as the complete lab was on silence, instinctively moving to shield you behind him. Though he didn’t have the latest updates, he knew the surveillance around this place, and he understood that his role here was to protect you. Something was close—he could sense it.
"Stay close, Illythia.” He said as Dr. Lin also moved behind you.
John looked up. "Yo, little angel with wings? What’s going on?!” He shouted to Sam, who landed near you in a flash.
"Alright, Barn Protocol in R&D001, now.” Falcon spoke into his comms just as the windows and walls transformed into impenetrable steel shields, his gear fully engaged.
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The Barn Protocol activated seamlessly, steel panels sliding into place around the lab's perimeter, locking everyone in. Sam and John immediately flanked you, their stances solid and prepared as they followed the Command Room’s orders: Don’t let anything near her, don't let her out of sight, protect and secure, no matter what.
For a brief moment, everything seemed to hold its breath.
Lab equipment hummed softly, the usual chatter and beeping of devices hanging in a strange silence as everyone waited for something unknown.
And then, piercing through the stillness, an alarm—a sharp, almost metallic shriek—sliced through the air, cutting off just as abruptly as it had begun. It was a deafening sound, something that tapped into everyone's senses, as loud as silence.
You winced at the sound, but as it faded, a strange calm settled.
You looked around the lab, about to reassure Sam and John when you noticed… that.
The others.
The usual faces at workstations and benches were all still—too still. Expressions blank, eyes vacant. And then, in a single, eerie motion, they all turned toward you, faces twisted, almost as if possessed by some unseen force.
"Holy shit." Said Sam and John at the same time.
"This is not good." said the Falcon.
"You… you think?! This is not good?!" Robert was panicking. "Should we… I don't know, RUN?"
"We can't. The Barn Protocol is up. These walls are like the Hulk Container; we're in." Replied Sam, as he put an arm before you: “Stay close. Really close.”
Without warning, the rest of people began to move, hands reaching for whatever they could find, beakers, sharp tools, even chairs—anything to use as a weapon. And fuck, this is the R&D 001 Lab, this, was the second advance tools room after The Crib. And here, are the greatest minds of the compound after Stark, Banner, Cho, and You. There was even a fucking lightsaber in hands of some tech guy, like how the fuck does that work?
An unnatural glint filled their eyes as they closed in, their steps synchronized in a way that felt more robotic than human.
Sam and John shifted instantly, bodies tensed, shielding you even closer as Robert ducked behind you, his breathing erratic. You felt the grip of John’s arm as he pulled you slightly back, a low growl escaping him as he sized up the oncoming attackers.
Sam's voice was low and focused. “Alright, Fake Steve, we’re not letting anyone through, got it?”
"You bet your ass we are." said John with his teeth clenched as he pulled out his weapon. "Bring your pretty faces, nerds."
The first swing came fast—a lab tech lunging with a scalpel raised high. Sam deflected the attack with a swift jab to the wrist, disarming the attacker, who didn’t even flinch but came back, jaw clenched, ready to strike again.
As the lab tech lunged again, Sam knocked him back, quickly sidestepping to push you further behind him.
But this was off, way off. These people, most of them, didn’t even pull up weight or go near the gym, but they were quick, swift—they moved like professional assassins trained all their lives, their technique showing black-belt level skill, and they… it was as if they didn't feel pain. Every hit, every punch John or Sam landed back was into a robot with no physical pain.
It soon became a 1 vs 10 scenario, where John and Sam were trying more to survive than defend you.
“What the fuck is going on?!” John hissed, fists clenched as he scanned the room, watching as more people turned toward you and advanced.
“I don't know.” Sam muttered through gritted teeth, blocking another swing. “But whatever it is, it’s messing with their minds.” He shot a look over his shoulder. “Stay close!”
Dr. Lin clutched your arm, his fingers digging in. “They’re like… like they’re under some kind of mind control! Is that even possible?”
John gave a dry laugh without taking his eyes off the attackers. “Oh, so it's a regular Tuesday, right?” He glanced your way. “But you, yo, Lancaster—any ideas here? You usually have something for us in times like this.”
“Give me a second.” You whispered, heart racing as you took in the sight of familiar faces twisted in unnatural rage. “I have no clue what’s causing this or how we stop it…” Your mind was racing, and then you jumped to get your computer.
"I need that sound, the same sound that made them start acting like this. Robert, get yours, come on, get down!" You said as you pulled your laptop and hid under the desk.
Sam caught a thrown chair mid-air, shoving it back toward the approaching crowd, his jaw tight. He threw a quick glance at you, his gaze firm. “Whatever you’re doing, stay safe and don’t move.”
A sharp crash echoed as someone shattered a lab beaker against the wall, sending shards flying. Dr. Lin yelped and crawled to you; he was trying to pull himself together, running the analysis with you. At this point, only your minds and Sam and John's strength working together were the only beacon of hope he had.
“I think… it has something to do with that alarm. Something happened when it sounded.” Robert grabbed his computer too. "I'll run the surveillance sound analysis and make it replay… you think that’d work?"
"I need Jarvis to analyze what happened when… Steve and I were attacked by the Iron Army. I think we were the distraction, and the real security breach happened here." Your fingers were typing faster than usual. "Jarvis, are you there? Get Maria or Steve on the—" Your voice was interrupted by John, who was thrown against the workbench, rolling and falling before you.
"Oh my God!" Robert let out a cry as he continued typing in panic. “Please, someone tell me we’re going to be okay…”
"Any news?!" Captain Walker asked as he struggled to stand up. "Something like your super boyfriend is coming anytime soon?"
"It doesn't matter!" shouted Sam from the other side of the room, he was already opening fire. "Orders are to stay put, protect and secure—even if the world falls apart, we are not leaving this place!”
“It kinda feels like it is!” screamed Robert, covering his ears at the gunshot noises. "Falling apart?!"
"Is that code ready?!" You asked as something exploded nearby, and Sam's wings shielded you all against it. "Robert! Stay with us! Is that code ready?!"
"It can't be! We are blocked!!" Dr. Lin was losing his composure; he was covering his ears and almost crying. "I need to get to the servers and plug my computer in!"
"That's so damn typical!" John replied as another attacker lunged, and he blocked them with an outstretched arm. "Why is it always like that?!"
"Ugh!" The place was chaotic, Sam was covering almost every angle from the air, John was forming the defense line before you and Robert, everything was being used by the geniuses who invented all these weapons and gears. Not to mention, neither the Falcon nor Captain Walker had intentions of really hurting anyone, so it was getting difficult.
You scanned the place, using everything in your power, and suddenly, you spotted something. So you rolled to a nearby desk, quickly opened the under-cabinet as bullets bounced all over the place, and you pulled it out: a prototype of Steve's shield. It was the newest testing unit, but it would have to do.
"Come on!" You grabbed Robert and used the shield to cover him. "John! Cover us!" As you ran with the shield covering you from the rain of bullets, a screaming Robert and his computer into the server's room, John started to fight back whatever was raining on you.
"Come on, come on, come on!" You pushed Dr. Lin inside and locked the door. "Go, go, go, do your magic!" You both rushed into the server's room and looked for the correct one, but out of nowhere, the guard was there, with the same eerie look and stiff action.
“Oh…no, no, no, no…” You and Robert muttered in unison, both instinctively stepping back.
But it was too late—the guy lunged forward, his expression blank and hostile, arms reaching out with surprising speed.
Before you could even think, your body moved on its own: you ducked his first swing, sidestepped his second, and then your hand shot forward, delivering a quick, powerful blow to his chest. In the blink of an eye, you grabbed his wrist, twisted, and swept his legs out from under him with a precision that left him sprawling on the ground in seconds.
You froze, staring down at the guy on the floor, wide-eyed as you tried to catch your breath. Dr. Lin was equally stunned, mouth open as he looked at you with something between awe and excitement.
"Oh my gawd!" You both said at the same time. “I…” Your eyes widened, looking at your hands, still half-raised in a defensive stance. “I could do that?!”
“Dude…” Robert replied, eyes darting from you to the unconscious lab tech at your feet. “…Since when…?”
“I don’t know!” You interrupted, still in shock. “I didn’t even know I could do that! My body just… acted on its own.”
“Well… whatever it was, remind me not to mess with you. And also warn Steve, just in case. Or John,” he said, raising his eyebrows.
"Oh god, ok, the code?!" You said, remembering both Sam and John were fighting for their lives out there, and pushed Robert toward the server machines.
"Oh, okokok!" Robert rushed into the server machines.
The moment he plugged in the laptop and entered the code, you had a bad feeling, but the instant he hit enter, the sound that transformed all the people out there echoed through the room.
And everything went black for you.
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The chaos took about an hour to subside. Not that John or Sam knew anything about it; they just stuck to the protocol and stayed inside the lab with a floor full of unconscious staff, until Steve kicked the door down (or maybe just made a hole in the wall while breaking in) and arrived, his face a mask of panic that only disappeared when he saw you, still locked in the server room with Dr. Lin, and John guarding the door.
Both Commander Hill and Captain America looked rough—not injured (it would take more than an explosion or an army of aliens to scratch them)—but still, they were covered in ash and dust, with bruised knuckles and fingers, a few burnt hair strands, and the remnants of a room that had exploded in their faces.
Steve was panting; after the containment of the explosion in the Quantum and Space Exploration Division, he had run to where you were, ready to throw himself into battle but unwilling to lose sight of you.
“Containment Operations, Protocol 14 in place.” Commander Hill announced into her comms as the walls of the Barn Protocol lifted. She gasped at the sight: a room full of unconscious techs, the lab littered with bullet holes from Sam and John’s weapons, most of the development prototypes destroyed after being repurposed as attack machinery, an injured Sam with a broken wing, and a bloodied John standing guard at the entrance to the server room.
“Where is she?!” Steve demanded, as the team behind Maria sprang into action. Protocol 14 meant everyone needed medical care, inspection, and interrogation; no one was leaving.
“There, in the server room. John is at the door.” Sam said, nodding toward you. Steve exhaled in relief when he saw you through the glass, sitting on the floor next to Dr. Lin, who was still typing on his computer, with John guarding the locked door behind him.
“Oh, thank God…” Steve murmured, covered in cold sweat, rubbing his face as his heart finally slowed. He steadied himself. “Okay, walk me through it.” What a fucking mess. He began walking around the wreckage with Sam.
“There was a sound just after the Barn Protocol activated,” Sam said, frowning as he surveyed the unconscious staff scattered across the lab. “And these guys…” He sighed. “They just…activated.”
“Activated?” Steve’s expression darkened. “How?” He looked down at one of the techs. “That’s James Farber.” Hesaid, bewildered. “He’s been here all his life. He was with Tony back in Howard’s days. He’s core staff, Level 1. There’s no way he’s a…spy or…” He ran a hand through his hair. “A threat.”
“I don’t know,” Sam replied, his face serious as he crossed his arms and exhaled. “They fought like professionals, swift and precise, like trained killers—or puppets.” He looked at Steve, his expression tense.
“This is fucked up, Cap. All it took was a sound. Dr. Lin and I…we played it back to test…” Sam said as glanced at the server room, his face suddenly paling. “Where is she?”
A chill ran down Steve’s spine as he turned and saw the empty spot where you had been. He ran to the door. “Robert!”
Dr. Lin nearly jumped out of his skin at the shout. “What?”
“Where is…?”
Robert looked around in confusion, fear flashing in his eyes. “She said she was going to look for you…”
Steve didn’t wait for more. He tore out of the lab, scanning frantically, fear and panic flooding his veins, drowning him in limitless dread.
His comm crackled to life, and for the first time, John Walker’s voice, panicked and raw, called him by his name. “Steve?!”
Steve could hear the same background noise in Walker’s comm—he was close, his voice desperate. “I’m following her! But…that’s not her!” John’s voice was frantic as he followed you, watching you move with unsettling speed, every step driven, unwavering.
“She’s too fast, damn it. Get the cameras, the drones, whatever you have, now!”
“I’m on it!” Maria’s voice responded, and in an instant, the entire facility surged into action. Cameras, scans, drones, perimeters, doors, alarms—all the 1287 security protocols she had sprang to life around you.
“She’s at your six! Go straight!” Maria directed Steve, and he broke into a run. Five hundred feet—just ten seconds at top speed, but you were nowhere to be seen. “Where?!” He was loosing his shit.
“What?” Maria’s voice faltered as the red dot tracking you vanished from her display, dread pooling in her stomach. “We’re being overridden…”
“What? Talk to me!” Steve’s voice was almost a shout, his panic unmistakable. “Walker! Where are you?”
“I’m at the parking lot!” John’s voice was breathless as he ran. “Where the hell are those bots?! Why is your girlfriend so fast?!” He weaved between parked cars, his eyes locked on you, but in a blink, you were gone.
“Illythia?!” John’s voice echoed through the empty parking lot, and Steve heard his labored breathing over the comms. Steve had never been so afraid in his life.
"Where are you?!" In the parking lot, John was still looking for you. He took a few steps around, assessing, then abruptly stepped back as his military instincts kicked in.
He moved just in time to avoid your first strike. The hypnotized techs had been fast—but you…you were lethal. Every move of yours was precise, each sweep of your palm and strike of your hand cutting through the air like sharpened blades, aimed directly at Walker with the cold precision of a trained assassin. His arm went numb as he blocked your strike with his elbow, barely deflecting the impact.
Holy shit. So this is what a Hydra assassin looked like. John had heard the rumors, and the realization struck him hard.
Now he was grasping the scale of your abilities, the enormous gap that separated him from you in skill and intent. Fighting you was like fighting a machine designed solely to kill.
He clenched his fists, steadying himself.
"Alright. Whoever the fuck you are…" He growled, bracing against the rush of your next attack.
"You are not taking her, not on my watch…"
You advanced swiftly, not giving him a chance to react. He managed to parry one of your strikes, but the force sent him staggering back. Your movements were relentless, each strike calculated, swift, and brutal. John ducked a sharp jab aimed at his throat and countered with a low sweep of his leg, hoping to unbalance you.
But you were quicker. Twisting mid-movement, you spun out of reach and closed in on him again, your eyes cold, unreadable.
“For someone who didn't want to date me at all…” John panted, trying to find an opening, he tightened his stance, his focus sharpening.
"Looks like we are finally getting our first dance huh…"
You launched a kick toward his chest, but he dodged to the side, finally managing to slip an arm around your waist, trying to pin you down. In a heartbeat, though, you broke free, twisting sharply and catching him with an elbow that left him gasping.
Steve tore down the hallway, his heart hammering like it was about to burst from his chest, each step fueled by the sickening fear curling tighter inside him. His mind screamed with desperation, imagining the worst. The thought of not getting there in time, clawed at him with a panic so raw it drowned out everything else. He pushed himself harder, faster, his breaths ragged, almost choking on the terror that something could already be happening, that he might be too late to stop it.
Deep down in his soul, he knew it.
Someone, something, was taking you away.
The little dance between you and John continued fast.
John steadied himself, swallowing against the sharp sting in his throat.
Shit, you were good, you were so damn good. Your movements were cold, mechanical, each step deliberate, your eyes devoid of any recognition, fixed on him like a target.
He barely had a second to brace before you struck again, faster, more precise, as if every muscle in your body was wired to a single, ruthless command.
John dodged, blocking with his forearm, but the force of your blow sent a painful shock up his arm.
“Come on, wake up!” Heyelled, desperation leaking into his voice, hoping his words might break through whatever had its hold on you. But you were relentless, undeterred. You struck again, a perfectly angled jab aimed for his ribs, which he just barely managed to sidestep, the movement costing him balance.
In a single, fluid motion, you enhanced your powers, layers of the room revealing themselves in sharp detail, peeling away until something glinted in the corner of your vision—something small and dangerously sharp embedded within a cracked console panel nearby. You lunged, grabbing the object, its cold weight steady in your palm.
With swift brutality, you slashed toward him, and John blocked, feeling the sharp edge graze his arm, blood blooming where it sliced through his sleeve. He gritted his teeth, pushing back with all his strength, his eyes searching your face, finding nothing of the person he knew.
And in that hesitation, you moved so fast, he didn't even see you. It was only one ruthless, calculated strike as you slashed across Walker’s throat.
The edge met his skin with precision, blood trickling down his neck. John staggered back, clutching his throat, his face twisted in pain and shock.
“Shit…” He choked out, voice raw as he tried to steady himself, his fingers pressed hard to stem the bleeding. His eyes darted around, frantic, searching for you, but you were gone—melted into the shadows, disappearing as swiftly as you'd struck.
And then Steve was there, his breath coming in shallow, panicked gasps as he rounded the corner, barely taking in the scattered debris and overturned tables before his gaze locked on John.
His heart lurched painfully at the sight. Blood trickled from John’s neck, his hand pressed against the wound, his face pale and strained.
“John!” Steve shouted, rushing over, barely keeping the quiver of fear from his voice.
John could only shake his head, gritting his teeth as he fought through the pain.
"Where is she?!"
“…Gone,” John managed to get out, a grimace tightening his face as he met Steve’s terrified gaze.
The realization struck Steve hard, fear gripping his chest with an icy hand. It shattered his world in an instant.
Everything he’d known, everything he’d fought for, had slipped through his fingers in a single heartbeat. He felt a cold, numbing dread spread through his chest, rooting him to the spot, every breath a struggle against the crushing weight of helplessness.
Panic clawed up his throat — you were out there, alone, lost in the grip of something he couldn’t fight, couldn’t save you from.
It was like watching a part of himself walk into darkness, and he couldn’t follow. For the first time, Steve felt fear not just for you, but for himself—he was in hell now.
The End but TBC
Continue to:
Chapter 11: Veil
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And that's a wrap for Chapter 10! I can't believe we are in chapter 10 already! Ugh but this is when the angst starts :3 All i could think when I was writing it was: OMG should I do this?? How could I do this to him...but then, I thought about mix it up a little of action like all MCU movies does ;) I enjoyed writing the fight scene with John so much, hope you liked it reading too!
I'll try to post every friday, but maybe next one will be Chapter 1 of another series, will see, stay tuned! :)
Love.,
Moon
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Tag list: @vioplay19 / @jamneuromain / @steviebbboi / @heletsmelovehim / @otterlycanadian / hisredheadedgoddess28
*can you let me know if I've missed anyone in the taglist? thanks <3
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in1-nutshell · 24 days ago
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This is to the person who asked for a Captain American Variant meeting Team Prime. I got it written down right before the thing erased.
Hope you enjoy!
Buddy the Captain America Variant meeting Team Prime
SFW, Platonic, Human reader
TFA
Buddy swears they are going to pummel Tony once they make it back home.
Who has a random dimension hopper just laying around on the kitchen table and making it look like a mug!?
Apparently, a Stark would!
At least they had their shield when they fell from the sky.
Bad news was that they were falling from the sky.
They were thankful enough that the Bots who saved them from being a pancake on the pavement were ready to help them get back home.
Not a lot of people, or beings, were so kind.
Now if only they could get Bumblebee and Sari to stop trying to cook rice on their shield…
Bots who were a bit cautious of the newcomer
These bots are rightfully cautious of the human that randomly falls from the sky. They are surprised to hear about the human being from a new universe. It sounds fake as their description of a ‘super soldier’… until Buddy caught Bumblebee after he tripped. Yes, they were struggling with the new weight, but they held on relatively well for any human they’ve come across. But for the sake of certain bots on the team, Buddy is not allowed to carry anyone. They sympathize with the hero when they mention being frozen for years. The Bots knew what that felt like to a certain degree. Whenever a villain shows up, the super soldier does their best to help. They are a bit of a fan of them tossing their shield and using magnets to retrieve it.
Prowl
Ratchet
Bots who find Buddy to be cool
Whether these bots outwardly say it or not, they all think Buddy is cool. Not only are they kind and polite, but they are a Super Soldier! Their time on Earth has introduced them (whether against their will or not) to comics and Buddy fits the soldier’s profile. The bots sometimes find themselves using Buddy’s phrases. Some have nicked named the soldier ‘Capicle’ after they heard about them going into ‘stasis’. If a villain shows up, they know they need to keep an optic out for Buddy. They always go headfirst into every fight and it’s going to give them a spark attack! Have asked Buddy to teach them how to throw things like their shield.
Optimus
Bumblebee
Bulkhead
Sari
Bots who feel threatened by the human with a shield.
Sentinel.
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julesthequirky · 11 months ago
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The Choice: Chapter Five
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All my work is purely aimed at those 18+ so minors kindly, DNI.
Summary: You find three of your favourite characters in your home. It shouldn’t be possible, but there they are. In the flesh. How the hell did they get there? And surely there’s a way to get them back? But as you get close to each one, the thought of sending them back proves difficult to comprehend.
Characters/Pairings: Fem!Reader, Dean, Beau and Ben (Soldier Boy)
Warnings: Language, typical Soldier Boy behaviour.
W/C: 1,776
The smell of coffee enticed you as you were nudged awake. Opening your eyes, you saw Dean standing over you, a steaming mug in hand, wearing a bemused expression. From where he stood, you had slid down the couch arm in the night, legs akimbo, sticking out over the other couch arm, the fluffy socks a reason for his bemusement.
You must’ve slept at a funny angle cause your neck felt stiff as Hell. You struggled to sit up but managed, shifting the blanket so Dean could sit if he wanted to. You swiped a hand down your face, knuckles rubbing the sleep out of your eyes until you saw stars.
“Captain America, boot you out or something?”
You shook your head and accepted the mug from him.
“Ben snores like a Mack truck.”
“Ahh.”
He sat beside you, wearing the clothes he came in, minus his jacket.
“Well, Beau’s in the kitchen cooking up a storm. Hope you don’t mind. I saw you had a coffee maker. Hell, I’m surprised you didn’t wake up after all the noise it made. I was convinced you would. Beau checked on you, too. Said you were still sound asleep.” He chuckled lightly and waited expectantly.
Figures. You could sleep through a noisy coffee machine, but not Ben’s snoring.
You stared at the mug in your hands. God, it smelled so good. He reminded you of a kid who just wanted to impress their parents. He held the same energy. A pent-up kind of excitement. You brought the mug to your lips and sipped.
Holy fuck.
That was the best coffee you’ve ever tasted. Not too sweet, not too bitter and heated to perfection. Your tastebuds rejoiced in the flavour.
“Oh, shit.” You whispered.
“Good, right?”
He looked so proud of himself, so happy. And he had a right to be. You savoured the taste, closing your eyes. You’d tried with that coffee maker, but whoever designed it had made it as complicated as possible. You’d given up, pushing it to the back of the cupboard, leaving it to gather dust. You’d forgotten about it, lying to your then mother-in-law, who had gifted it to you and your husband as a wedding gift.
“Well, I’ll let you—yep.”
He slapped his thighs, stood up and left you alone with your coffee.
The warmth from the mug seeped to your core. Your ankles ached from exposure to the cold, and your back twinged from sleeping on the couch, but the coffee made up for it.
You heard Dean and Beau’s deep tones and laughter from the kitchen. Whatever Beau was doing, it smelt good. And it seemed that Dean and Beau were getting along. You could only hope that Ben would join their camaraderie.
Heavy footsteps thudded downstairs, pulling you from your thoughts, stopping you from checking on the two men in the kitchen.
Ben emerged wearing only his boxers. How did he manage to still look so good? His hair wasn’t exactly flawless, but it looked better than yours. Yours resembled a bird’s nest, but his made him look even sexier. It wasn’t fair, and it had you thinking. What would he look like after sex?
“You look like shit, y’know that?”
He sauntered in and took the seat beside you. He noted the mug in your hands and brazenly took it, downing the contents as you stared at him in shock.
“Fuck. That’s some good coffee, sweetcheeks.”
The audacity of this man was something else. And it only got worse. He handed back the empty mug and stood. He scratched his balls right in your eyesight, stretched, then tapped your knee.
“C’mon, getchur ass in the kitchen, I’m starvin’.”
All you could do was sit and stare at him, mug almost hanging from your hand. You blinked.
“Doll, if you don’t close your mouth, I’ll put it to good use.”
You clamped your mouth shut. Your brows bunched together in irritation, and you stood.
“Don’t talk to me like that. And you owe me a coffee.”
You barged past him, purposefully bumping into his arm on your way to the kitchen.
“Hey!” He barked.
You opened the kitchen door. Beau was at the stove, and Dean sat at your table, mug in hand.
“Hey! Don’t walk away from me, lady!”
A hand gripped your arm, swinging you around to face Ben. A chair scraped behind you.
“Hey, why don’t you cool it and step away, Marlboro Man?”
 “Fuck you, lumberjack.”
“Hey, hey!”
Beau’s deep shout reverberated around the room. You turned to see Beau standing at the stove, apron on, and wielding a spatula.
“Enough of the language, it’s too damn early to be fighting and yelling. Now let go of our host’s arm and put some damn clothes on.”
That shut him up. And you. And Dean. Ben let go of your arm and stormed away, back down the short hallway leading to the stairs. He disappeared up them.
You rubbed your arm and sat down, placing the empty mug on the table. Dean huffed, and you heard him mumble, “Ain’t no lumberjack…”
He sat pouting like a little kid. It was kinda cute, and your heart twinged. How could a grown-ass man make you feel like this? You wanted to put your arms around him and comfort him.
Then, as you were sitting there, it occurred to you that you hadn’t had a chance to tell them your name due to last night’s craziness. The thought never even occurred.
“I should probably tell you my name, huh?”
Dean snorted, instantly perking up.
“That would be nice. Finally, put a name to a face since you know ours.”
Dean gave you one of his award-winning grins, along with a cheeky wink. Then he downed the rest of his coffee and placed the mug on the side.
“I should probably wait until Ben’s back down, right?”
“Why? You don’t know how long he’s gonna be. How do you like your eggs?” Beau inquired.
“Scrambled. Please.” You added the pleasantry, remembering that he was the guest. “You didn’t have to do this, y’know.”
“Oh, I know, darlin’. Force o’ habit, I suppose. And Dean here was figuring out the coffee machine.” Beau said over his shoulder as he cracked a few eggs and whisked them in a bowl.
“Thing had a ton of dust, like, covered.”
“I couldn’t figure it out.” You admitted.
“Well, I’ll show you sometime…uh.”
“Y/N.” You finished for him.
“Y/N.”
The soft timbre of his voice gave your belly flutters. Oh, you could definitely get used to hearing your name slip from his lips, addicted even.
After a short wait, Beau placed a plate of bacon, scrambled eggs, and pancakes in front of you, setting your cutlery beside the plate. Holy Hell. Everything looked perfect. Dean rubbed his hands together in glee when Beau placed his plate down. He didn’t take a second to dive in, and then make his approval known. His moan shot down to your core, and your eyes fluttered in shock. It was too damn early. He couldn’t be making you feel this way. Shouldn’t, even.
“Damn, this…. this is…. mmmm.” Dean took another bite, not bothering to finish his thoughts.
You took your cue. The first forkful blew away your mind and tastebuds. And the sound that came from your lips rivalled Dean’s. Both Dean and Beau stopped to stare at you.
“Sorry…but damn…Beau…it’s so good.”
His cheeks turned pink, and he turned around to hide. You heard the spatula scraping against the pan as two more plates were made.
*
Dean, Beau, and Ben congregated in the living room, with you standing before them. Dean wanted to get started on the frames box, deciphering whatever was inscribed. But you had to make a food run and get these boys some clothes besides what they already wore. And as much as you loved them, there was no way in Hell you were letting them stay whilst you went out.
“Okay, if anybody asks, you’re brothers. Triplets, even. Last name, Smith.”
Ben snorted. “Ain’t no one gonna believe that, dollface.”
“And why not?” You demanded, already done with Ben’s antics today. “It’s totally plausible. You three look more like triplets than the set down the road.”
You put your hand to your head. Frustration bunched your muscles and had your jaw tensing.
“Just…get in the damn car.”
You stomped off, snatching the keys off the hook on the wall. You toed your sneakers on and grabbed the bags from the porch. From inside, you heard Dean reprimanding Ben.
“Why you gotta purposely annoy Y/N for? She’s tired, and you irritating her ain’t helping.”
You yawned, stretching your aching shoulders and neck whilst the guys traipsed out. Yanking on the handle, you stepped into the drivers seat. Your car was nothing special, a standard SUV. It was a couple years old, and the odometer was getting upwards of fifty thousand miles.
You rested your forehead on the steering wheel. Dean’s coffee and Beau’s breakfast had sustained you, but it seemed not enough for the task ahead.
“I call shotgun,” Beau exclaimed as he exited your house.
“The fuck you do!” Ben barked out.
“Alright, there’s a simple solution to this. Rock, paper, scissors. Winner gets the seat.” Dean reasoned.
From your wing mirror, you saw Dean pull the door handle up, successfully locking the door. Then they stood in a circle, and Dean declared on three they reveal. You could only make out Dean’s back and Beau’s side profile. His hair ruffled in the breeze as they stood and played their game.
Ben shouted out, calling bullshit, and stormed off.
The car door opened a moment later, slamming shut as Ben sat in the back. His jaw ticked, obviously stewing from the loss. You couldn’t help but smile. A light chuckle escaping your lips.
“The fuck you laughing at?”
You shrugged.
“Why didn’t you just sit in the passenger seat? What they gonna do? Drag you out?”
Ben furrowed his brow. He snorted and shook his head.
“Never damn occurred to me.”
Now you snorted. Figures. But it was too late now. Your passenger side door opened, and Beau heaved himself in beside you. Dean sat beside Ben. 
“Nothing like a good game of rock, paper, scissors.” Beau grinned as he buckled himself in.
“That’s cause you won.” Ben sulked.
“Aw, come on now, don’t be a Debby downer, just cause you lost. Fair and square. You picked rock, and Dean and I chose paper. Them’s the rules.”
“Still bullshit.” Ben mumbled, sulking in his seat, as you started the engine.
Tags:
@curlycarley, @angelbabyyy99, @sassy-pelican, @k-slla, @deans-spinster-witch
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gremlin-girly · 3 months ago
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Kinktober Day 6
Kink: Handjobs
Pairing: Room mate!Steve Rogers x f!Room mate! Reader
Tags/ Warnings: SMUT, room mates to lovers (ig?), listening/watching of porn, JOI porn, smutty audiobook mentioned, descriptions of masturbation (m and f), praise and petnames (good boy, baby, sweetheart), handjob (m recieving), soft!dom!reader X submissive!Steve (the man just needs some taking care of)
Not Beta read (I'll have to edit my mistakes when I have the chance!)
Word Count: 2.9k
Summary: Your roommate forgets to disconnect his Bluetooth headphones from his phone, leading to an embarrassing moment between you both that segues into something more.
As always I do not give permission for my work to be reposted, translated or copied. My warnings are non-exhaustive (even though I do try to capture everything) but please read at your own risk. I am not responsible for your content consumption.
I hope you enjoy; likes, comments and reblogs are always appreciated!
Part 1 (you're here) | Part 2
Prev | Next | Masterlist
A/N: And they were roommates...
Originally, I had planned for this to go in a slightly different direction - but prefferred this!
But I have to admit, I do like a good roomates to lovers and have been playing with a few ideas of a Roommate!Steve (and potentially a Roommate!Bucky) so I may have accidentally started a little collection... Sorry for posting late, migraines all day had me conked out, just a double whammy for tonight!- Love, Grem x
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You’d fallen into a nice routine since moving in with Steve. He was the perfect roommate, an utter gentleman, and easy on the eyes too. You knew being Captain America was a stressful full time job, and you were surprised to find that behind the stoic, stern symbol of hope was a friendly artist from Brooklyn.
It had taken Steve some time in getting used to you being around. When he went away on his first mission outside of the US , he’d forgotten you now lived with him and had startled you on your way to the bathroom. He’d been so apologetic about it and you'd just laughed. From then on, he’d text you when he was on his way home from a mission and from then on you always made sure there were leftovers in the fridge for him.  
Occasionally you’d spend time together, watching a movie, or idle chit chat as you cooked breakfast for you both. Steve slowly but surely came out of his shell and relaxed around you – and you him – cracking jokes, gently ribbing each other. You didn’t miss the way the tips of his ears burned  when you complimented him or how your heart fluttered when he’d brush past you to throw a dirty mug into the sink. But you were just roommates.
And you were currently a roommate with dead headphones.
“Steve?” you emerged from your room and padded out into the living area, spotting Steve who quickly locked his phone looking at you with wide eyes. You locked an eyebrow as you approached. “You alright?”
“Y-Yeah.” He clears his throat and runs a hand through his hair. “Thought you were in bed.”
You shrug helplessly. “Dead headphones. Could I borrow yours whilst mine charge please? If that’s okay?”
Steve nods and twists to point over at the kitchen counter. “Yeah, sure. They should be over there somewhere.”
You waltz over to the counter and find the headphone case easily, missing how Steve’s eyes follow your figure. You turn back to him and smile, wiggling the case.
“Thanks, lifesaver. Couldn’t miss the next chapter of my book.”   
Steve smiles back  but his expression looks like a mixture of disappointment and relief that you seem to be leaving to head back to your room.  “No worries. Night.”
“Night. Don't stay  up too late, Stevie.” You say as you grasp the handle to your door.  Steve only hums in response and waits for you to be safely shut away in your room before unlocking his phone again.
He runs his hand over his face as he looks down at the videos before him. It wasn’t the first time he visited porn sites, but lately he’d found  the perfect stress relief after a day of being Captain America. He felt the shame trickle down his spine and pushed away the guilty thoughts that plagued him in moments like these. Captain America being told what to do? Having powerful women instruct  him to jerk off, shower him with praise, and tell him when to cum was more than enough for blackmail, let alone the jokes that Tony would make if the information ever saw the light of day. And you had almost caught him.
Steve shivers, palming his growing erection over his joggers. God, it was worse knowing he liked you almost catching him. Would you have flustered? Or would you have complimented his cock with that teasing smile you always seem to wear? 
Steve curses under his breath at the thought, cock twitching. He shakes his head to try and rid himself of the thought but it sticks, and he scrolls through the myriad of videos until he finds a promising one. With one final cautionary glance at your door, he shuffles his joggers and boxers down to take out his hardening cock. He only needs the volume low thanks to super soldier hearing and you’d either be fast asleep or listening to whatever audio book you were listening to this month to hear what has about to happen. Steve makes himself comfortable again the sofa pillows, leaning into them and pumping his cock a few times thinking about how good you must look right now cuddled under the covers in those tight pyjama shorts. Before he gets lots in the daydream, he hits play on the video, continuing to stroke himself but slowly now; awaiting his instructions. After a moment there’s still no sound. Steve clicks the buttons to up the volume, continuing slow ministrations and thinking of you.
Before Steve had pressed play, you had been lying in bed with the headphones in, debating whether or not you would go to hell for using your hot roommate Bluetooth headphones to listen to smut. Your body flushed at the thought but... you needed an extra helping hand before bed tonight since you’d had a particularly stressful day too. Steve didn’t need to know.
When the audio kicked in, you thought you had accidentally hit play, and allowed yourself to be subjected to your fate. You heaved a contented, almost smug sigh, eyes fluttering closed as you  reached down under the band of your pyjama shorts. The narrator’s voice sounded different somehow. Maybe they’d changed actors? Then she started giving instructions. Your frown with your eyes closed, fingers finding your clit but not moving. It isn’t until you hear the words “good boy” being uttered that your eyes fly open in horror.
Steve’s headphones are still connected to his phone.
Steve is watching porn.
Steve doesn’t know you can hear it.
Your face burns red with embarrassment and you scramble to get the earphones out of your ears. Even though you shouldn’t, you feel heat pool between your legs. You should tell him. He hasn’t realised. But would it be weird? If you disconnect the headphones he might suspect it but if you text him it’d be worse. And God forbid you see what he’s doing in the living room.
Your fingers hover over the Bluetooth icon on your phone. Your imagination is running wild and now you really don’t think you need your smutty little audiobook anymore.
The volume gets turned up on the headphones again and you can hear the woman continue talking  through instructions in a sultry voice.  You panic, blushing furiously, and rip the covers away from you. You trip out of bed, grasping at the headphones and call out.
“STEVE!”
Big mistake.
You balk. Why did you call for him? You hide your head under your hands as you hear Steve scramble in the living room, cursing as he knocks a foot against the coffee table. He bursts into your room, face flushed, and sees you lying on the floor. You don’t look up. You can’t meet his eyes.
Steve opens his mouth to ask if you’re alright, you look like you’ve fallen out of bed, but as he does he hears it. In the blind panic to help you, he forgot to hit pause. The sounds from the video echoing from the headphones in your grasp. Red creeps up Steve’s neck and face and he stammers. This was a nightmare.
“ohmygod,” he breathes out, hiding his face. “Oh- Y/N – God- How long were you-?” He stops himself clearly even more flustered by the fact you may have (totally) been listening.
You remember you still exist and your head snaps up, equally as red as Steve’s, meeting his glimmering blue eyes with an apologetic look.
“I thought it was mine.” You clarify, and Steve looks like he might pass out.
“What do you mean yours?”
“I... thought it was my audiobook.” Your voice grows quieter at your admission and you give Steve a sheepish look. You both stare at each other for an age; each wrapping your head’s around the new information you’d discovered about each other, and trying to come to terms with the tension that was now entirely palpable between you.
You were the first to speak, lips twitching into a smirk slightly. “So.... do we want to talk about this?”
The smirk made Steve’s cock twitch. There it was, the same teasing smirk you always gave him. He had been so close to cumming when you’d called out for him, and the embarrassment that followed ruined the high, but at least he’d have material to work with when he went back to his bed.
Steve held up his hands and found himself smiling nervously down at you. “No thanks, I think I’ll pass.”
“That’s it, good boy.”
You have to bite back a laugh as the woman’s voice erupts from the headphones in your hand. Steve looks like he wants the ground to swallow him.
“She’s really going for it,” you comment, trying to break the ice. Steve starts to grin but he groans. You’d heard him sigh and groan before, and it never ceased to make you hot and bothered. “I see why you like it so much.”
“Please don’t.” Steve chuckles softly. “My old heart can’t take it. I’m sorry I forgot to disconnect them.”
“S’all good.”  You clamber to your feet and hold out his headphones to him, Immediately  wiping your sweaty palms onto your pyjama shorts. “And for what it’s worth, totally normal. Don’t be too embarrassed.”
“Hrm,” Steve grumbles, looking at the headphones in his large palm. When his gaze shifts back to you, he’s smirking slightly with a raised eyebrow. “And you thought this was your...?” He can’t quite get himself to say the word porn, but you roll your eyes playfully at him.
“My porn audiobook – yes.” Your eyes narrow teasingly at him. “But I’ll only share it with you if you’re a good boy.”
Steve’s body goes rigid,  and your expression softens. “Sorry. Too soon to joke about it?”
Steve’s looking down at you, pupils blown wide, trying to learn how to breathe again and hide the fact that his cock is rock hard between you. He shakes his head gently and clears his throat.
“N-no. It’s fine.” Steve huffs, eyes still fixated on you. Heat unfurls between your thighs under his gaze.
“Steve?” Your voice is so quiet it’s barely audible. Your heart beats in your ears and you watch Steve’s Adam's apple bob as he swallows thickly.
“yeah?” his voice is hoarse, bordering on desperate.
“Do you want me to call you a good boy?” You murmur. You watch as his eyes flutter and he bites down on his plush lip, suppressing a throaty sound that you’re sure sounds like a strangled whimper that makes your pussy throb with excitement. “It’s okay. You can say it. I don’t mind.”
“Fuck.” Steve curses, half turning away from you. When he turns, you can see the tent in his joggers and you almost swoon at the sight. “We shouldn’t-“
“Not what I asked, Stevie.” You say firmly. Steve’s eyes betray his thoughts and he only nods. You offer him your hand with a soft smile. “You’re okay – I’ve got you.”
The reassurance seems to be what he needs because the super soldier allows you to lead him to your bed. You let him sit down first and you stand between his muscular thighs. He’s still almost as tall as you sitting down, but you’re just that little bit taller like this to cup his face and tilt it up towards you to capture his lips in a sweet kiss. Steve breathes hard through his nose, his eyes close, and his shoulders slowly sag as you kiss. His big hands ghost over your thighs to settle on your hips. When you pull away to take a breath, you smile down at him, still cupping his soft clean shaven face.
“Good boy,” Your murmur against his lips and Steve audibly sighs in delight. “Now, undress and lay back for me. I wanna take care of you.”
You don’t need to tell him twice. His shirt is the first thing to go, tossed to the floor somewhere. Your eyes rake down his chest and your hands follow tracing the outlines of his taut muscles. He shivers underneath your touch and his breathing hitches when you reach the waistband of his joggers. There's barely anything left to the imagination with Steve's length straining against the thing fabric and you watch as Steve's blue eyes look up at you one last time; searching yours in case you want to back out. Before the point of no return.
He obeys, quietly shuffling back. His breathing is deep and laboured, his eyes never leave you as you kneel between his legs on your bed. You're hot all over - you dreamed of having him in your bed but now that he was here you almost felt self-conscious. But you had meant what you said when you told him you wanted to take care of him. Gently wrapping your fingers around his cock, the heat and hardness of the smooth skin making your mouth water, you pump a few times to adjust your grip. Steve lets out a breathy sigh but watches closely.
You swallow and nod at him, urging him with a barely audible "Go on," as encouragement. When Steve's cock is free, you lick your lips subconsciously at the sight. Big was an understatement and there's a dribble of pre-cum leaking from the tip already. You can feel Steve watching you, patiently waiting instruction, and your eyes meet his again.
"Further back onto the bed, Stevie."
You set a steady rhythm, Steve's breath hitching as you pump his weeping cock and shower him with praises making his head fall back into your pillows with muffled moans. As sexy as it was watching Steve try to suppress his moans by biting his (ridiculously) soft lips, you were desperate to hear them. Especially if, after tonight, things became... awkward at best.
"Don't keep those pretty sounds from me," You coo lasciviously at him, letting a blob of spit slowly roll from your tongue and drip onto the tip of his cock. The gasp Steve emits makes his whole body jerk, and heat rushes to his face. His cock twitches as you pump him harder, faster and now slicker, smirking up at him with that devilish grin he sees every night before he closes his eyes.
"Oh, fuuuuck." Steve moans loudly, and you chuckle; pleased he listened and pleased by how his eyes roll back and how he can't seem to stop his hips jerking.
"You were such a good boy Stevie but you should have said something. And let me take care of you." Your voice is low and seductive, you barely recognise it's you who's speaking. It's not often you get to be like this and your brain (or another organ entirely) is speaking without thinking.
"That's it baby, be nice and loud for me."
Steve huffs, brows furrowing softly trying to focus himself; which only spurs you on more. You grip his cock a little harder, expertly gliding your hand up and down.
"You like thinking about this when you're alone, Stevie? When I've been across the hall this entire time?"
"Shit, yes - oh." Steve groans again, cock twitching in your palm. You feel a sense of pride, and a flutter of something you dare not mention, at the confession. You're glad it's not just one-sided attraction, at the very least.
"Mm, I should have." Steve hums, breathing becoming heavier and heavier by the second. You are relentless, pumping him with the occasional trail of drool, and unabashed praises of him just to watch him squirm under your touch.
"Your cock is so pretty Stevie," Your murmur to him, watching his sac tighten as you fist his cock faster. "I can't wait to taste it."
Both the comment itself and the very thought of having your lips around his cock, make Steve cum so hard his vision blurs for a few seconds. His face and neck are flushed and he's coated in his own cum, panting hard with his eyes closed. You smile at the sight, committing it to memory before any guilt or shame sets in. You stealthily move over him to your bedside table to grab some wet wipes. Steve barely moves at the shift on the bed, but his eyes peek over to you and you gently smile down at him. You pull a wet-wipe free and hand it to him, unsure how he'd react to you cleaning him up.
"You okay, sweetheart?" You ask softly, sitting against the edge of the bed as Steve graciously takes the wipe from you. His face his bright red still and you start feeling the nibbles of guilt at the edges of your mind. You had both been willing and horny... but perhaps jeopardising your friendship to make Captain America cum wasn't the smartest idea.
"Mm." Steve clears his throat, still avoiding eye contact, and takes another wet-wipe. You fight the urge to make a joke about the super-soldier amount of cum. Not now.
"Hey," You reach out to touch his shoulder but stop when Steve looks over at you with his baby blues still blown wide. "This doesn't have to change anything if you don't want it to. We can pretend this never happened."
You shuffle awkwardly on the edge of your bed, grasping your hands in your lap. "But I... liked it. And I wouldn't mind if you wanted to... spend the night in here."
"I think I'd like that." He mumbles. "And I think I'd like to do it again sometime."
You can't tell if you've crossed the line from reassurance to worry for a moment. The silence drags for what feels like an eternity until Steve's features go from flustered to soft, with that cute smile he does so well.
Now it's your turn to go red. "Good. Great."
Steve chuckles. "But first, since you heard my audio... I think it's fair I heard yours."
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peacelovengranola · 2 years ago
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Enamoured 💕
(no, I don’t know why it’s crispy 🙄)
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neonovember · 9 months ago
Note
Request: Sam Wilson x younger, platonic! reader
Plot: Reader relaxing around Sam’s place in Louisiana-Bucky can be in it, reader’s relationship with him would be platonic or familial.
Louisiana Sun
steve, sam, bucky x platonic!daughter!reader, generous nods (i practically wrote a whole confession) to sarahbucky
things; dad!steve rogers moments, over protective steve, reader makes some risky decisions, bucky and same are basically your uncles, bucky is in love with sarah and louisiana by extension, 
w/c; 4k (reader had to do a lot of convincing to let steve believe she wont get kidnapped in the presence of two soldiers)
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You’ve never felt love like you did in Louisiana. 
The sun baked grass, the humid winds kissing your shoulder. The vibrancy of colour and life that explodes on the streets, and in the caring waves of neighbours. 
You taste home whenever Steve drives you up to Sam’s rickety gate, slamming the car door open to his objection and running through the winding bend of grass and willow trees. You can't wait for Steve to pull into Sam’s drive way, the bleached wooden porch calls to you in a way you can’t ignore.
So you find it exceptionally painful whenever Steve is swarmed with so much work he can’t make the drive up. And there was no way Steve would even let you take a plane ride by yourself, he says it’s cause he’d be too afraid but you think it’s because you help with the dishes.
It’s Friday evening at the Rogers, a night of pizza and Noir crime films you both adore. It’s spring break, and you've spent every waking hour with Steve cooped up at home. You don't mind it, it has made up for a lot of the father daughter time missed between missions. But god you can’t come back to school and say you spend the holidays with Captain America again.
“So..Sam called” You murmur, fainting nonchalance whilst you watch his every expression out of the corner of your eye. Gene Tirney’s whiskey voice blares from the TV screen in front of you.
“Uhm?” Steve replies with his mouth full.
“Yeah, he was wondering when I’d come down again to see ‘em. Bucky’s spending some time there too, helping out with the boat and Sarah” You reply, stretching your arms out in front of you.
“And what did you say” Steve replies after wiping away the smudges of sauce from his chin, eyes widening
“I said I’ll have to check with Corporal Rogers first” You tease
“Hey, I’m not anywhere near..”
“Dad we haven’t left this house in weeks, I’m not going to go another week locked in here” You reply
“I let you go places..remember Monday?”
“When you asked me to buy your cream of mushroom from the Bodega?!” You shriek, eyes boggling.
“Yes..?” Steve replies unsure, eyebrows furrowing
“That was a chore. For your own benefit by the way, I mean who in their right mind likes cream of mushroom?” You reply
“Ay, I’m not going to let you disrespect my taste in food for the second time today” Steve replies
“Oh please, I barely said anything about your choice of onions as a pizza topping-
“My pizza topping?? I was reconsidering dinner when you wanted pineapples. Fruit should not belong on pizza, there are rules. When I was your age we had-”
“To boil everything or else we’d get tetanus and die” You moan, rolling your eyes 
“No..when I was your age I don't think pineapples even made it to New York yet” Steve murmurs, hand on his chin as if to truly consider it.
“Are you sure you're my father?” You reply, and are met with a soft cushion flying towards you.
“Work’s just been a lot lately kid. And I miss you too darn much to let you leave my sight. You know how I am, I see kids go missin’ everyday. Don’t know what I’d do if that happened to you cause I was reckless”
“You aren't getting sick of my face?”
“Never”
“You’re not being reckless Dad, I’m going to be with Sam for gods sake, and Bucky too! In Louisiana of all places! They probably mug you with bugnes as pistols” You giggle
“Don’t joke about that"
“Oh come on! You both were on a team for like eighty years, you don't trust them?”
“Of course I trust them, they’re your designated ‘if i get in a freak accident they take over’ people.
“Hey! Don’t joke about that” You quip
“I just like knowing you're near” Steve replies after chuckling
“I could just stay for a weekend! I’ll be back before you know it. Swear” You plead.
“You say that now..” Steve cocks his eyebrows, part of him knew you'd stay six months there if you could
You put on your best heartbroken pouted face whilst Steve goes through the motions of being finally convinced. His eyebrows furrow, his hand coming up to scratch at his golden locs as he considers it.
His shoulders slump, and before he can even say a gruntled “Fine..” You’re cheering, getting up to twirl around the lamp lit living room. Steve chuckles at your antics, eyes glinting with light at the sight of you jumping in happiness.
He knew he’d say yes in the end. You're his little girl, he can’t ever say no to you.
“Whilst you're up, switch out Laura for somethin’ else. We still got a checklist to get through”
“Isn’t it getting close to your bed time, senior citizen?” You giggle, reaching for the box of recorded movie tapes under the bookshelf dresser.
“Age ain't going to stop me from showing you what good cinema is” Steve barks, reaching for his glass of water gingerly.
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You’re half through the Maltese Falcon, Sam Spade flickering his cigarette in flashes of black and white when Steve's phone rings.
He groans loudly, lying on his back with his legs stretched and laying on the coffee table with the bitten edges of pizza crust left over. The couch buzzes beneath your weight, somewhere deep within the crevices near spare change and ink pens it vibrates.
“You gonna get that old man?” You turn to Steve, mouth filled with cheesy saucy bread
“Easy now Rogers, and finish your mouthful” 
You roll your eyes as Steve searches under the blanket stretched across you both, a sound of triumph leaves his throat when he grasps the metallic slick edges.
“Rogers” Steve grunts into the phone
“Ah Fury…Mhmm..didn’t they have Clint on that?..Right..”
You raise your eyebrows at the conversation between Steve and Fury, Steve pinches the bridge of his nose as he plops his head back against the head of the couch.
“For three weeks? Fury, you know I got Y/N to take care of. It’s why I transferred out of the field, it isn’t ‘cause I like reading” Steve murmurs, eyes cutting to you
Your eyebrows widen at that, mouthing to ‘pass the phone’ to Steve who shakes his head at you. Growing impatient, and longing to see Sam, Bucky and Sarah you make a mental note to blame them for the scolding of a century as you reach and swipe the phone from Steve's lazy grip.
“Yeah, I don’t know Fury- HEY”
“This is Steve Rogers manager speaking, yes he can and will be there for the mission”
“Y/N” Fury replies, his voice lit with a hint of humour at your antics.
You wrestle to escape Steve's reflexes, luckily you're a teenage girl who wants something so you're obviously faster. You throw the same pillow Steve had thrown at you before in his face, running behind the couch with the phone tucked between your ear and shoulder, poking your tongue out at Steve.
“Hey Fury! How’s the wife and kids” You remark
“Who told you about my wife and kids”
“Oh Fury, think those confidential documents are safe from a certain Spider?”
“Goddamit Parker..” Fury mutters
You doge a flying pillow headed your way, Steve’s face growing red with frustration at you missing every hit. Super soldier my ass.
“Where’ll Steve be stationed?”
“Prague-wait, aren’t you twelve? I hate to say it but the soldiers right, you can’t just be left alone-”
“One word Fury. Louisiana, Beignets and a bird”
“That’s three words”
“Yeah well I ain't twelve but I didn’t correct you on that did I?”
“I’m an old man, Y/N” Fury replies gruffly
“I’m pretty sure you were in the hospital hallway at my birth..” You murmured
“How did you-?!” Fury replies
You're too busy skipping zig zag across the living room to escape the pieces of pizza, cushions and cd covers flying your way to hear him. You heard it once that it helps dodge bullets, and with the horsepower behind your own fathers arm, you think it matches.
“Makes sense anyways, there isn't a Wilson and Barnes without a Rogers nearby. You guys are like goddamn pack members” Fury replies “Let Steve know to be packed and ready by Sunday”
“Bye Fury” You giggle, swiping the red button before throwing the phone immediately at Steve who lunges for it.
Running to hide behind the first thing you see, you peek out from the forked leaves of a potted plant to see a very angry and very dishevelled Steve.
“Is now a good time to say I got a 90 on my science quiz?” You reply with a gulp
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You’re smart enough not to run out the car seat the second Sam’s house comes into view, despite the itchiness festering in your bones driving though Louisiana and not being able to finally set your feet down onto it.
Steve called Sam the next morning, and you had already packed a suitcase of clothes and necessities a few days prior. You always felt healed after every road trip, and tuning out blues and Leon Bridges whilst driving through the country felt like a respite in itself.
As Steve pulls into the dirt drive way, you see Sam perches on the deck waving towards you both. You squeeze your hands into fists until he switches the ignition off, and then you are too. The car door springs open and you're rushing into Sam’s arms, giggling as he twirls you around till you're dizzy and sick.
“You’re Father has been keeping you from us” Sam says, shooting an accusatory dagger towards Steve who has begun to unload your belongings.
“Hello to you too Sam” Steve shouts from behind the open boot with a gruff voice. 
Bucky’s booming voice makes its appearance before he does, rounding the corner of the back yard wiping grease off his hands onto a dirty old rag.
“If it isn’t Miss Rogers! Took ya long enough” He replies, pulling you into a tight protective hug whilst Steve sets your duffel bags on the porch edge.
Sam turns to Steve, pulling him into a hug as well, his hand slapping his back with a loud umph.
“Shame you couldn’t stay over here as well” Sam says
“Fury. Clint needs some help down in Nové Město” Steve says tiredly after embracing Bucky.
“When Duty calls” You reply 
“Steve answers” Bucky and Sam say in unison.
“It wasn’t me this time” Steve points at you accusingly “The drive up here made me start regretting it enough. Lay off will ya”
“It was okay? We’ve been getting some Black bear sightings along Wood Lake” Sam replies
“We were all right. At least I won’t have a nagging buzz in my ear the drive back” Steve teases,
“Hey!” You reply, playfully pushing his shoulder.
“Don’t worry Y/N, You’re ours now. You no longer have to face that tyrant” Bucky chirps, pulling his hair back into a bun.
“And this tyrant” Steve shifts, looking down at his watch “needs to start heading back” 
“Already? Can’t stay for lunch, Sarah’s making her seafood boil” Sam replies
Steve audibly groans, rocking on the balls of his feet as he shakes his head at the thought of missing out on Sarah Wilson's Louisiana renowned seafood.
“She is? Oh my god that better not be a lie Sam” You reply. Sarah’s cooking was like no other, you’ve been begging her to hurry up and make the next best selling cookbook.
“Yup, she's got me on shucking duty” Bucky says, feigning exasperation that held very thinly over the clear adoration Bucky had whenever he talked about Sarah.
You look towards Steve, and he raises his eyebrows as you both communicate silently. Bucky was head over heels in love with Sarah Wilson, it was getting annoying seeing them do this dance.
“Alright, time for goodbyes Kiddo” Steve replies after stifling the smirk that tugs at his mouth whilst he watches Bucky crane his neck at the sound of Sarah coming through the door.
“Steve Grant Rogers, you better not have thought of leaving without giving me a proper hello” Sarah calls, her dark coils pulled into a high bun that has begun to uncurl and frame her face.
“Tsk, Sarah. Of course I wouldn't leave before seeing the better Wilson.
“You got that right” Sarah chuckles, pulling Steve into a hug. Sam grumbles profanities under his breath as he rolls his eyes.
“Where are the boys?” 
“Staying with a friend, did ya'll know something about this ‘hoverboard’ mess that's going around?” Sarah questions, exhaustion clear in her tone from dealing with two children wanting something.
“Could probably call Tony and he’d just make one for you” Steve replies with a chuckle at Sarah’s tone.
“Great idea soldier. Knew you were gonna leave early so I packed you a little somethin’ for the road” Sarah smirks, passing the tote bag on her shoulder that even you could smell had something decadent wrapped in careful parchment.
“Sarah Wilson, the woman you are” Steve replies, grasping the bag gingerly with a sigh as he peers into the wrapped dish.
“Ya can say that again” Bucky mutters softly under his breath, his hand coming up to scratch at the nape of his neck as Sarah shifts her gaze to him.
“Okay, I’ll admit it I’m gonna miss you oldie” You say, rocking n your feet as the feeling of separation begins to settle.
“Com ‘ere kid” 
You quickly run into the open arms of Steve, blinking back tears as you lean your head on his broad shoulder. Rocking back and forth in his embrace Steve caresses your back tenderly.
“I’ll be back before you know it. We might even stay a bit longer when I do come back” Steve whispers in your ear.
You lift your head “Really? You mean that?” You whisper, as you meet his gaze, searching for any sign of a lie.
“When have I ever lied?”
“Well there was that one time you said you weren't scared of spiders..” You reply before Steve quickly cuts you off
“Okay that's enough”
You giggle, before Steve squeezes you in his arms. Shaking his head as you both part and he sets you back down.
“Never gets easier saying goodbye'' Steve replies, before moving to embrace Sam and Bucky, and placing a chaste kiss on Sarah's cheek before turning back to you.
“Now, call me before bed and in the morning, okay?” Steve replies, his tone morphing into an authoritarian lilt.
“Yep, and I'll text you some photos and videos throughout” You reply sweetly, as Steve nods along with unblinking eyes.
“What are you doing”
“I’m just taking a mental note of how you look exactly as I left you, and I will notice any piercings, hair changes and god forbid tattoos-”
“Okay, okay, just take a photo while you’re at it”
Steve shuffles on his feet, moving the back to his shoulder as he pulls out his phone
“Oh you aren’t actually-” You say, before the flash of Steve's camera cuts you off midway.
“Alright, I think I’m good to go” Steve replies, before nodding your playful punch on his shoulder.
You walk Steve to the car, hugging him goodbye again before Sam and Bucky exchange some information about something confidential, top secret, and definitely one you shouldn't listen in on.
But you do. 
And it’s boring anyway.
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The kitchen is bustling by mid afternoon, shells of craw fish and prawns scattered on the table counter and the dirty water of shelled oysters flowing down the edge of the grassy front lawn. 
The smells of cajun seasoning and buttered corn leaves you asking Sarah when it's done every five minutes till she’s banishing you from the kitchen and sending you off with a lemonade.
You move through the littered toys and figurines AJ and Cass had left in their clear hurry to spend the night at a friend's and push the screen door open with your hip. Careful to not spill your drink, you take a seat on one of the rocking chairs on the porch with a sigh.
The sounds of the nearby pier docked with ships and fisherman makes its way even down the rocky dirt roads of Sam’s place, easy against the chirps and rustles of shrikes up above the oak and willow trees around the house. 
You don't come to Louisiana to escape noise, life is all around you when you pay attention to it. New York is always awake, even at night- especially at night. Louisiana has a kind of hum that’s different, it feeds your soul.
Curling your feet underneath you, the screen door opens with a wack as Bucky stumbles onto the porch. The moisture of the beer drips down his fingers as he sits down on the adjacent chair to you.
“Sarah kick you out too?” You reply with a giggle as Bucky grumbles under his breath.
“I was just askin’ if we need to make this much food for four people..” Bucky replies, shaking his head with regret as he rests it on the back of the chair.
“Ooh rookie move mister” You reply teasingly, before Bucky cuts his eyes to you
“Oh and asking the equivalent of “are we there yet” is any better” Bucky banters, taking a swing of his beer before immediately grimacing.
“How’s you get Steve to agree to leave you for three weeks” Bucky starts, bringing his feet up to rest against the porch wooden fence.
“Oh I didn’t, Fury called and I just snatched the phone and told him he’d be there” You replied
“And you’re still breathing?!” Bucky replies incredulously
“I’m shocked by myself. But what about you?”
“Me? What about me?” Bucky replies with an eyebrow raised
“Are you staying in Louisiana indefinitely? Makes it a lot easier to convince Dad to move down here too” You continue
“I..I don't know. Maybe. Helping Sam out with the boat and everything has been good. Really good in fact.  The people here aren't afraid of me..or this” Bucky points to the vibranium compartments of his arm.
“I wasn’t, I knew they wouldn't be too” You muse, smiling as Bucky looks up at you.
“Thanks kid. Finally starting to feel normal again, part of the community now I suppose. It’s weird, even back in Brooklyn i never felt so..a part of something before”
“Can’t just up and leave ‘em like I would’ve before. Especially when Sam needs my help”
“And Sarah” You add, hiding the smile behind a nonchalant nod.
“Yeah..Sarah” Bucky adds, his eyes glazing over as he leans back, eyes shifting to the towering tree leaves that cover half the sky.
You watch him carefully, seeing the way his leg jitters a little at the mere mention of Sarah, how so in love he is with her and you can’t help yourself anymore.
“You love her, don't you?” You murmur, as Bucky quickly swings his head to look at you.
“Hmp?”
“Sarah?” You inquire, raising your eyebrows with a smirk.
“I see the way you look at her,  the way you both look at each other, and I’m here practically every summer break. Which is never”
Bucky’s face morphs from shock to realisation, sitting upright as he scratches at his dark overgrown hair.
“You think she looks at me? I mean, in that way?” Bucky asks after a pregnant pause, his voice quiet and filled with anxious shyness. He can’t even look at you, looking out into the rounding hills of the roads and houses ahead.
“I know she does. Let it be the teenage girl who can tell who is acting like two love sick high schoolers” You grin, as Bucky’s eyes twinkle, unable to hide the adoration and love about to burst through.
“Or let that Chef who came down from Chicago swept her off her feet..what was his name again?” You tease, wiggling your eyebrows as you take a sip of your melting lemonade.
“Easy now, Rogers” Bucky replies with a bark, jaw clenching at the thought of Sarah being with anyone else.
“Foods ready!” Sam calls out from the kitchen window and Bucky helps you up from your seat, tipping out the last of his drink onto the stepped on grass before you both make your way back inside.
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The thick book raised high above your face does little to block out the midday sun, you’re lying on the dock, the wooden planks warm underneath your shirt as the ends of your hair dip into the lake’s surface.
It’s a quiet hidden sort of mystical place, off the side of Sarah’s house where practically nobody but the Wilson's and by extension now you and Bucky now know about. Sarah divulged memories of spending new years here with the boys and their father years before, how it seemed likes their own little getaway.
The yellowed pages of Bucky’s first edition Hobbit flick between your fingers as you fly through the adventures of Bilbo and the fantastical realm of Erebor. You notice AJ and Cass’s squeals and laughter suddenly silent, and for the first time since you had laid down you sit upright looking across the grassy field.
The boy’s frisbee you had lost many games to earlier is dashed to the side, and as you wipe lazy exhaustion from your eyes to see Sam pull out a notebook and pen on the rug. Dusting off the dirt from the dock, you make your way through the grassy foxgloved trail towards him.
“Where did everyone go?” You question, throwing the book onto the soft cushioned floor.
“Bucky and Sarah had to take the boys home, AJ somehow ended up hurting himself on grass. And before you ask no I don’t know how” 
You giggle before plopping down on some cushions, stretching your arms out with a groan.
It’s easy to talk to Sam. About school, about New York, about life, everything.The unrelenting sun helps ease the discomfort of certain things sure, but Sam has always been your person.
“Whatcha doing?” You ask, looking at Sam scribble some things into the paper
“I like to write sometimes. Not for anyone else, just for myself. Can be about how I’m feeling some days, people I remember, hell even some poetry”
“I tried the whole journal taking thing, the counselor at school said it might be good since I don't have a “conventional family dynamic”. Psycho babble for, everyone you know and love have fought aliens in space and have the capability to take down a government. 
“I mean, there was that one time the Quinjet dropped you off at school” Sam chuckled
“That was one time! And that was because Tony hates traffic” You add, shaking your head at the embarrassment of disembarking from a 30 feet aircraft that works as a spaceship.
“But it must be hard, ya know? Having to share your dad with the rest of the world”.
“Hm? Sarah’s boys share you with them too”
“Yeah, but you know it's different. Parents are meant to be plain, they’re meant to live through us. Imprint all their expectations and dreams onto us”
“Well, maybe you should start seein’ things at what they ‘could’ be, instead of what they're meant to be. Sure, I don't have the kind of Dad that comes from the office at 5pm and has days off. But I get..this. You and Bucky, Sarah and a damn Asgardian King as my family. My Dad spent his whole life fighting, showed me what having immovable morals and good character makes of you. Wouldn’t trade it for the world, makes you feel a lot safer when there's an inbuilt super hero team on speed dial too”
“Damn you Rogers and your century wisdom. You spent a couple decades in the ice too?”
“Haha, don't group me with that icicle. 
Birds chirp and warm wind tussles the grass you lay on.
“Oh Louisiana"
“Nothing like it ey?”
“In the entire world. Get now why Steve never allowed me to stay longer than a week”
“Why’s that?” “Cause I'd never leave. I'd probably force him to retire and build a house with his bare hands across the road from you”.
Sam chuckles.
The sound of footsteps makes its way from the trail, and Bucky appears rounding the corner, his vibranium arm glinting in the sun.
“Do I hear the familiar crinkling of Guidry’s?” You shout out excitedly as Bucky raises the familiar peach coloured paper bag in the air
“Easy with the goods, Barnes” Sam calls out, before Bucky plops down next to you, ripping open the pastry bag to unveil the perfectly powdered beignets still warm.
“Told Elijah you had come down for a visit and he gave a little extra” Bucky says, before reaching for one of the pastries dusted in snow.
“Yeah…Steve was right” You reply, after groaning at the sweet and airy taste of the most perfect fluffy pastry you have ever tasted
“Bout what?” Sam and Bucky both say in unison mouths filled and faces covered in powdered sugar
“I’m never gonna leave” You giggle, wiping the sugar from your chin.
The sun makes its disembark down the coastline, as tunes of Etta Jones, Rockettes and Hozier murmur from Sam’s faded blue speaker. You fill your stomach on sugary beignets and sweet tea, leaving sticky fingerprints on card faces through hour long games of Euchre through the afternoon light.
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sjsmith56 · 17 days ago
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Snowfall, Part 1 - The Lady in Red
Summary: A chance meeting in a coffee shop leads to a date with a writer that goes very well.
Length: 3 K
Characters: Bucky Barnes, named OFC.
Warnings: Bucky feeling somewhat isolated and lonely.
Author notes: This story takes place after FATWS but Bucky is back in New York, isolating himself from everyone except Sam. Thunderbolts and Captain America 4 haven't happened.
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The entire month of November had been cold and dreary, in a way that made Bucky feel all of his years.  The leaves had turned quickly, seeming to go directly from green to yellow then falling en masse during one of the many chilly, windy, or rainy days that New York experienced more of during this particular month.  There was no chance to enjoy autumn, savouring a relaxing walk under the fall colours of the many different trees in the city.  Even visits to his favourite coffee shop weren't doing it for him, as everyone who came in didn't seem inclined to relax in the ambience; instead, they quickly placed their orders then hustled out the door to wherever they had to be.  It emphasized his own solitary life, leaving him feeling isolated, alone, and unwilling to put himself out there.
On this specific day, Bucky had just sat down in the coffee shop with his plain black coffee, checking the many text messages from Sam, telling him it was still warm in Delacroix and inviting him to stay a while and work on the boat.  Although he appreciated the repeated offers, he felt uneasy about accepting them.  Maybe it was the realization doing so would feel like running away from the life he was trying to rebuild in Brooklyn, or maybe it was the thought that if he did go, he was accepting that he couldn't make his own life without Sam's help.  Plus, Sam was busy training Joaquin in the intricacies of the wing suit and when they were both up in the air, Bucky felt somewhat left behind.  Regardless, it was keeping him from making a decision.  Placing his phone on the table, he sipped his coffee, then he noticed a woman outside, in the shadow of the outside awning, looking through the window of the coffee shop, before entering and standing in line. 
She looked up at the artistically rendered chalk menu board, with a glowing expression on her face, as if she was looking at a masterpiece.   What she wore made her stand out; a bright red coat, one that had an inner liner to provide warmth on the transitional days between fall and winter.  Compared to the drab brown, black and grey outerwear most of the others wore, she looked stylish.  Her small black purse strapped crosswise across her body and knit cap completed the look.  When it came to her turn, the cashier looked at her expectantly.
"There's so much to choose from and I don't know the terminology," she began, as the clerk sighed.  "Right, people are waiting.  A large mochachino and a piece of coffee cake, please." 
She gave her name, paid then waited with the others, trying to temper her curiosity at everything, seeming to find just being there enjoyable.  Bucky watched, interested in how she seemed to light up the space with her presence.  After picking up her order she turned, looking for an empty table or a spot at the window counter, but the place was quite full for a change.  Reaching for his phone, he put it inside his jacket then gestured to the empty chair across from him.
"This chair is free," he offered, unsure why he just did that.
"Oh, thank you!"  She smiled as she placed her mug on the table, followed by the small paper bag with her coffee cake and unbuttoned her coat, revealing a soft blue sweater over dark jeans.  "I'm so new to this.  Everyone at home told me that New Yorkers could be rude ... you just proved otherwise."
Sitting down, she picked up her mug and sipped it, nodding her head at the taste, then pulled out her phone, making a notation in her notes app.  All through this Bucky observed her with a bit of amusement and curiosity of his own.
"Where's home?" he asked.
She described her small town, about growing up there, then going to college for her teaching degree, returning to teach English in the local high school.  Although it was a longer answer than he was expecting, he found himself interested in her descriptive monologue.
"So, you're a teacher?"
"Well, I was," she answered.  "It was always a toss-up between teaching and writing.  I wrote stories when I was growing up and continued throughout college.  Somehow, I found the time to write a book while I was teaching, self published it then submitted it to a literary agent, and they found a publisher.  They expect it to do really well, and the original edition is up for an award, so the publisher suggested I write another, and my agent said it was time to turn to writing full time.  It was a big decision, but my marriage had ended, so it seemed like a good time to take a chance and move to New York."
"I'm sorry about the marriage but I'm interested about the book," said Bucky.  He pulled a battered paperback out of his jacket.  "I'm a bit of a reader.  Perhaps I've read it."
She told him the name, but he hadn't heard of it.  "I'll get a copy of the new edition for you," she offered.  "Even sign it, if you want."
It wasn't so much the offer but the way she said it that made his day a little brighter.  Talking to her felt as natural as breathing.
"I'm Bucky," he said, offering his right hand to her. 
"Leia, like Princess Leia, but my agent and publisher want me to write as Adriana Weller.  Having a pseudonym is supposed to discourage stalkers ... you're not a stalker, are you, Bucky?"
"No, but I am infamous."  He shifted a little, surprised at the question and that he had answered it without being offended.
"Because of whom you are."  She sipped her drink, then leaned towards him and lowered her voice.  "I recognized you from the Flag Smashers coverage.  You are much nicer looking in person.  They always seemed to catch you in a serious moment."
"I have a lot of those," he smirked.  "You're very straightforward."
"I didn't offend you, did I?  You can't beat around the bush when you teach high school."
"No, not at all."  He flashed his smile at her.  "I appreciate it." 
He felt his phone vibrate and excused himself to look at it.  It was Sam wanting to know if he was up to a call.  Bucky responded that he was busy at the moment.  Leia just smiled and sipped her drink again, while watching the others who came in.  She pulled her own phone out and again noted something in an app.  When she slipped it back into her purse, she noticed Bucky watching her and smiled shyly.
"I, uh, observe things and write them down before I forget, on the off chance I get inspiration for a character or a moment in a book.  I wrote a little note about meeting a polite New Yorker who offered me a seat at his table.  No name or description, as I respect your privacy."
"Thank you, but I am from Brooklyn, just sayin'."  He said it with a smile that made his eyes crinkle.
"Noted."  She looked him in the eye, resting her chin on her hand.  "You're easy to talk to.  I've been here about 10 days and so far, other than my agent and editor, I've been yelled at by taxi drivers several times for crossing on the light, cat called by creeps who receive an earful from me for their rudeness, or I've been barely tolerated because I'm not quite up to speed yet in this environment."
"It can be like that."  Her words spoke a truth that resonated with him, and he made a decision at that moment.  "Would you go out for dinner with me?  Nothing fancy, just a Brooklyn boy showing a new friend the neighbourhood.  You do live near here, right?"
It was her turn to give him a warm smile.
"Dinner?  Only if we split the bill.  That way there's no obligation on either of us.  I have dating horror stories from after my divorce and it's kind of how I roll these days."
"Well, I'm still very much a 40s man, but if you allow me to bring you flowers, we can split the bill.  I wouldn't want to end up in your notes as not being flexible."
"That's a fair compromise," she said.  "I live a couple of blocks away.  Pick me up at 6:30?"
The time was set, she texted him her contact information and they enjoyed each other's company until they finished their drinks.  Later, when Bucky walked over to Leia's place from his, which was a few blocks away from the coffee shop in the other direction, he didn't notice the cold, or the cloudy skies.  It felt like the old days, before the war, as he sauntered towards the high rise she lived in, looking forward to the date.  He carried sunflowers, wrapped for protection from the cold, hoping she would like them.  She did, saying they reminded her of the Van Gogh sunflower paintings, which she loved.  Her place was nice, bigger than his, felt warm and comfortable, with a view that showed the lights of other highrises.  Considering she had only been there a short time; he was surprised she had personalized it so quickly.
"It's mostly just cushions and a few blankets," she said, as she placed the sunflowers in a vase.  "Every time I go out, I try to find something to add, although I did bring some things I couldn't give up.  The publisher hired some people to deliver them and set them up."
"I like it," he said, looking over her book collection.  "You have some good titles here."
"That reminds me," she murmured, producing a hard cover book Reflections on a Small Town.  "There's a saying to write what you know, so I wrote a bunch of stories about growing up in a small town; the good, the bad, and the ridiculous.  I personalized the message."
He opened the book up to the title page and smiled slightly at the inscription.
To Bucky Barnes, the big-city boy who showed kindness to a small-town girl. 
Leia Dunn, aka Adriana Weller
"Hopefully, you'll never have to sell it to pay for life saving surgery.  I haven't signed any of the publicity copies with my real name so this copy will be a collectible someday.  You know, since I will probably achieve Margaret Atwood status."
Her grin was infectious, and he grinned back.
"Thank you, I'll make sure to take good care of it and not damage the book jacket," he replied.  "If you don't mind, I'll leave it here until I bring you back. Are you ready to go?"
He helped her on with her red coat; after admiring the patterned black, gold, and silver tunic she had paired with black jeans to wear.    For the walk to the restaurant, she slipped gloves on, then placed her hand inside the crook of Bucky's elbow once they were out on the sidewalk.  As they walked it felt even more familiar to him, just like how it felt to go on a date before the war.  He pointed out various buildings along the way, managing to come up with an anecdote for each, most of them involving him and Steve.  Stopping briefly at a light, he started across while the wait sign was on, joining others who took the opportunity to cross during the gap in traffic.  Placing his hand over hers that still grasped his elbow, he stepped off the curb, assuring her it would be safe.
At the restaurant, Bucky opened the door for Leia, allowing her to enter first, then helped her into her chair.  After placing their drink and food orders they sat quietly for a moment then she leaned forward.
"I tried on about six different outfits before you arrived," she said.  "I don't think I've been this nervous about a date, other than the first one after I split up with my husband."
"I think you look great," he replied.  "For a moment I wondered if you were trying to match my arm."
She tilted her head slightly, unsure of what his comment meant.  Taking his gloves off he showed her his left hand. 
"Wow, it's beautiful."  She reached for it, then looked at him for permission, so he took her hand in it.  "This is incredible technology.  Fully functional, obviously."
"Yeah, I can feel heat, cold, pressure and touch."
Their drinks came and Bucky found himself enthralled at Leia's anecdotes.  She shared some stories about teaching, of her thoughts about moving to the city, including her eagerness to explore everything it had to offer.  Her expressive manner made it easy for him to open up to her about his own experiences in Wakanda, especially the culture shock of a traumatized city boy thrust into a rural community minus a limb. 
They talked, laughed, and commiserated for hours, until their server came with the bill and apologetically asked them to leave, as they had been there for four hours, and they were closing soon.  As agreed, they split the bill and the tip, then Bucky helped Leia on with her coat, and they stepped out into the first snowfall of the coming winter.  The soft blanket of white had already covered every surface brightening up the dark as the snow reflected the streetlights' glow.  With the sounds of the city muffled by the flakes still lazily drifting down they walked back to Leia's place, silently enjoying the presence of the person they were with.  Accompanying her up to her floor, Bucky stuck his hands in his pockets, as they stood outside her apartment door, nervously wondering if he should kiss her or not.  He really wanted to, but he also didn't want to come across too strongly.
"I had a really good time," she murmured.  "You're a very interesting man and I'm glad you offered me a seat at your table."
"Me too."  He rubbed the back of his neck as he towered over her.  "Would you go out with me again?"
"I would love to."  She unlocked the door and stood in the doorway, sensing his hesitation.  "I wish you would kiss me."
Removing the glove on his right hand, Bucky gently slid his fingers into her hair, so he was cradling the back of her head, then lowered his lips to hers.  The moment they touched, they both knew it would be a great kiss.  Leia molded her body to his, wrapping one arm around his waist and the other over his shoulder.  As the kiss deepened and their tongues gently tangled together, he was aware of one thing, her.  How she tasted, the smell of her hair and a touch of perfume that was subtle yet captivating; and when she whimpered slightly as he increased his hold on her, he didn't want to go.
"Holy cow," she whispered, as they broke apart a little.  "It wasn't just me, was it?"
His breath stuttered a little as it came out.  "No, I felt it, too."  Grazing her jawline with his fingertips he studied her face, then groaned a little.  "I shouldn't say this because we just met, but I don't want to leave."
"I don't want you to leave either."  Gently, she caressed his cheek.  "But ... I have a breakfast meeting at 7 am with the publisher and I'll have to be up at 6 for it, and I've only known you for a few hours."
"It's too soon, isn't it?" 
She nodded, then her eyes lit up.  "I'm invited to a party on Friday night, kind of a book launch and introduction to bookstore retailers.  I can bring a plus one."  Her fingers were toying with the buttons on his leather jacket.  "It's a suit and tie thing but it's an open bar and ... and I'm not doing anything on Saturday, if you still don't want to leave."
It was an impulsive offer and he felt just as impulsive when he decided to accept it.
"What time should I pick you up?"
"They're sending a car for me at 7:30 so be here before then."
"Alright, I'll see you Friday." 
They kissed again, a quick but sweet kiss, then Bucky headed to the elevator.  Just as he pushed the down button, he heard his name, and Leia hurried down the hallway with the book she gave him. It had been overlooked in the special moment they shared.
"You forgot this," she said, sounding a little breathless.
This time, the kiss was intense, as they both crushed their lips together, desperately caught in a sweet tussle of taste and sensation.  Her hands slipped under his leather jacket, pressing against his back, while he had one hand entwined in her hair, and the other wrapped around her waist.  The elevator doors opened to several people witnessing the kiss.  One of them shrugged and pressed the close door button.  Neither Bucky nor Leia noticed.  When they finally broke for air, she gazed up at him, while he smiled softly at her.
"Holy cow," he whispered.  "This is Wednesday night, right?"  She nodded slowly.  "I've heard that patience builds character.  I'll be full of it by Friday."
Her giggle filled Bucky with a warmth he hadn't felt since he was a young man.  Reaching for the down button, he pressed it again, as Leia waited with him.  When the elevator car reached her floor, he backed into it and pressed the main floor button, watching her intently until the doors closed.  It was still snowing out, so he stuffed the book inside his jacket, and walked home, thinking of her the entire way.
Part 2>>
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stuckytoyoulikeglue · 1 year ago
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It didn't blow up!
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I definitely learned a fair bit about pottery painting from this (some of those lines are terrible), and the colours aren't quite what I wanted (the red was meant to be much more pink than that, but I didn't see the shade I used for the inside till it was too late), but for a first attempt I don't think it came out too bad!
(And we'll just ignore the wonky S🖤B on the bottom... Not my best idea!)
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americas-ass-writing · 1 year ago
Text
Written in the stars
Steve Rogers x reader
Words: 2.7k
Summary: The internet was a wonderful, helpful thing until it wasn't. Until one misstep, one accident gets spread around and ruins your life. Or does it lead you where you're meant to be?
Warnings: none? Stan Lee cameo maybe, me sucking at writing dialogue
A/N: This was written for @lunarbuck Soulmate Au Writing Challenge! I had the prompt "You and your soulmate share matching tattoos." I hope you enjoy it!
Dividers by @firefly-graphics
Gif by me
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The sound of rain against your window is the first thing you register as you wake up. The sounds of your street in New York slowly adding themselves in. You let out a yawn and stretch. These were the best days. Waking up to the rain serenading you on your day off. You have nowhere to be, no plans, just a day for yourself. So you lay in bed a bit longer, just listening to the sounds.
Once you get up, you start your day. A nice warm shower, comfy clothes and breakfast with your favourite tea. Your phone dings with the daily reminder of your best friend to leave your apartment today so you'd have a chance finding your soulmate. You roll your eyes. She found hers in high school - lucky bitch. The matching tattoo of a weird shaped heart, that to you looked more like a bean, on her ankle sealed her fait to the high school jock. You were scared for her at first but he turned out to be the best partner she could ever have wished for. You on the other hand weren't so lucky. The little star constellation on your shoulder blade hasn't met it's match yet and you weren't sure if it ever would. With a sigh you put down your mug and text her back, promising you'd leave the house if the rain stopped.
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The internet was a wonderful, helpful thing until it wasn't. Until one misstep, one accident gets spread around and ruins your life.
Steve was always good at hiding his soulmate mark. Back in the 40s when he was sickly he partially did it because dressing warm enough prevented him from getting sick and to protect whatever dame had the matching mark on her shoulder from having him as soulmate. As soon as he became Captain America he solely did it so no one would lead him on by pretending to be his soulmate. He was glad his soulmark was on his shoulder blade, easy to hide under the shirts he wore. Even though he was hiding it he couldn't help the disappointment that in all his years on this planet he hasn't even had a slightest tickle of the feeling of his soulmate being close to him.
But then his years of hiding were ruined by a very public mission. He was doing his best to lead his team and make sure they were all safe. He was in his element until a Hydra agent attacked him with a knife. This happened way too often these days and every time Howard Stark's voice mocks him in his mind. "Hydra won't attack you with pocket knives." Yeah right.
Steve was quick to react and instead of stabbing him in his shoulder all the attacker did was rip open his suit. This shouldn't happen this easily, maybe it wasn't a common pocket knife and Howard was right after all. Steve knocked him to the floor and made sure the man was unconscious. He didn't even think twice about the rip in his suit before he went back to the mission. He should have... He should have took a damn second to check then he wouldn't be stuck in the Tower.
The rip exposed his soulmark. And of course some onlooker took a picture that spread like wildfire on the internet. Promptly the Tower was overrun by people claiming they're his soulmate. His morning runs through central park were turning into him being hunted down by them too.
When the first woman came he had hope. He really thought that maybe, just maybe the stupid mistake would bring him his soulmate but the feeling never came... Nothing ever snapped into place. He didn't have the feeling.
His soulmark soon graced the shoulder blades of thousands of people like some stupid fashion accessory which caused him to swear off his soulmate and accepted a life of being alone. He just hoped that this hype around his mark would soon die down.
His fists hit the punching bag in front of him hard. The bag swinging back and forth wildly as he tried to let his pent up anger out. His usual sparring partners tapped out a few days ago since he got too cruel during it, not pulling his punches anymore. He understood, he didn't want to hurt them but he couldn't help himself but be disappointed. Those social interactions flew out the window too which didn't help him with feeling so alone.
"We gotta get him out of the tower... He's been cooped up for two weeks now." Natasha mumured to the fellow assassin next to her as they both watched their friend. "Sam and me tried... Either we get overrun immediately or he refuses to leave the tower." Bucky answered, his arms crossed. He felt for his friend, he deserves to find his soulmate and live happily ever after with them. "Maybe we can fly him out to Clint's farm?" He added only to be met with a snort of the redhead next to him. "Yeah he'd love that. Clint would make him take care of the chickens. Imagine all the pictures of him and Cap Jr." She smirked at the image of Steve holding up his chicken counterpart in several pictures.
Just as Bucky was about to answer their little conversation got interrupted by the bag hitting the floor and Steve marching or rather stomping off to get a new one.
"I have a plan to buy you guys some time" the redhead said after a moment of silence and beckoned her friend to follow her.
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Picking at his cap and the borrowed clothes, Steve sends Nat a sceptical look. "This isn't going to work..." He sighs and sits down. His face falls into the palms of his hands. Soon enough there are soft strokes on his back. "Yes it will work. You just gotta be positive for once, Rogers" she says with an encouraging smile. "Sam and Bucky are currently distracting the masses, making them fill out forms so you can find your soulmate. All you gotta do is take the back exit and vanish into the crowds. It's a simple mission." Nat ever the optimist. There was so many things that could go wrong with this plan. Steve lifts a sceptical eyebrow at her.
"Look it's either this or Bucky's plan that involves a horrible granny dress and a wig. So choose your poison, Cap" she smirks at his furrowed eyebrows and claps on his shoulder. "That's what I thought. Let's get you out of here." With a smile she beckons him to follow her. They walk through the hallways and take the stairs down to the lobby. Instead of taking the usual door Natasha leads him around the corner and through some storage rooms before they stop in front of a door.
"Alright, sunglasses on. I texted you the code to get back into this door but I expect you to not use it before lunchtime." Like a mother scolding her child she points a finger at him. "The door leads to the back alley. The security guard has been informed that you'd take this way so no need to worry. Just make a swift exit from the alley into the crowds. Keep your head down, cap and sunglasses on, ok?" Steve nods at that and hugs her. "Thank you" he whispers and before she can answer he slips out of the door.
He nods to Stan the security guard, a nice old man that he often talked about art with, and slips out of the alley into the masses. To his surprise everyone's minding their own business and soon he's a block away from the tower. His shoulders relax and he lets out a breath. The rain probably helped him stay unrecognised.
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Much to your dismay the rain stops after a few hours and you have to keep your promise. You sigh and get dressed to leave your apartment. Maybe a coffee in the park wouldn't be so bad. The park near your apartment always was empty on rainy days, except for a few people walking their dogs. So you could still enjoy your day without too many people around you. Once you're all dressed you grab your bag and an umbrella, just to be safe, before you leave. Your feet carry you to the little cafe at the end of your street. You weren't surprised with how busy it was. People would come here to escape the cloudy skies, to study, to meet others or to simply just get coffee. You weren't bothered by the masses though since it was your plan all along to get your order to go and sit in the park.
With your drink and snack in hand you enter the park a little while later. It wasn't big but still beautiful. You make your way to your favorite spot, a little bridge over the lake that housed two benches. It was a quiet and beautiful spot and you're were sure no one would hog the benches today. Well you were wrong. As you approach you see one of the benches taken by a tall stranger with a sketchpad. He seemed relaxed as his hand moved the pencil over the paper. His cap and hunched over form hid his face from your view but you didn't mind. Something inside you told you he was safe and even pulled you a bit closer to him. It's a weird feeling but you chalk it off to the two of you just doing the same thing - trying to enjoy the silence in the park.
You sit down on the bench across from him and take in the nature. You don't even notice his surprised face when he looks up and sees someone across from him. Or when he absent mindly scratches his shoulder. Or when his lips pull into a small smile at the added person in his sketch. You sit in silence for a while, trying to ignore your itchy shoulder, occasionally stealing a glance of the handsome stranger until he stands up and approaches you. Your heart beats faster as you look up at him. Why was he approaching you? Was he not the nice strange...
"Here..." He holds out a piece of paper to you with a soft smile on his face. Fuck even his voice was handsome. You hesitate for a second before you softly take it from him, which just makes his smile grow wider. Your eyes land on his sketch of the park... the lake, the trees, the flowers and you... You on the bench with your drink in hand, smiling as you take in the nature. It's breathtakingly beautiful. Your surprised eyes find his and you're met by a bashful smile. "I uh... It's a thank you..." He scratches his neck, his face blushing as he tries to avoid your eyes. "A thank you?" You ask confused, the small itch in your shoulder growing. You look up at him. Why would he thank you for sitting across from him?
"Yeah... The last week's... Have been crazy and you're the first person who treats me... normal?" He fumbles with his hands as your confusion just grows, brows knitted together. "My soulmark was released to the public after a mission and so many people got it as a tattoo and they hunted me down on my jogs and they waited for me everywhere and I was stuck in the tower and my friends wouldn't even spar with me and I felt so alone and when I was finally able to sneak out and spend some time outside you didn't even lift an eyebrow at Captain America sitting across from you so thank you" he rambles and your eyebrows shoot up in surprise. You didn't even recognize him. Not in casual clothes that seem a bit too big for him. He nervously fumbles with his hands again at your silence. "I..." "See I even signed it. If you don't want to keep it you can sell it" as he tries to point out his signature he grazes your hand with his fingers and both of you wince. The blinding pain in your shoulder was gone within a second but it was replaced with warmth. As your eyes meet his you realize it wasn't just you who feels it. His hand is still on his shoulder as he looks at you with wide eyes and his beautiful lips apart.
"Please tell me you felt that too..." He whispers, his voice almost breaking. You nod as answer and continue to stare at him. He lets his hand fall and gets on his knees in front of you, his eyes stare in yours so desperate you want to wrap him up in a hug and blanket and protect him from the world.
"I didn't even recognize you" is all you bring out and he laughs. A beautiful melodic laugh as his hands softly grab your free one. Thousands of little butterflies spread in your body, the tingly sensation wandering through you until it reaches your soulmark. "I'm pretty sure you have a little constellation of stars on your shoulder" the blonde still kneeling in front of you says with a smile that's brighter than the sun. You chuckle and bite your lower lip. "What makes you think so?" You tease. He licks his lips and squeezes your hand softly. "Because I have the same" he whispers as if it's a secret for just the two of you and maybe just maybe it would be if he would have used his brain a few weeks back.
You stare at each other for a while longer till the rain starts again. "Shoot! I have a cap you can wear uh..." The Adonis in front of you gets up and hurries over to his bench to get his things. You chuckle as he comes back and pull out your umbrella. "We can just share this and sit for a while longer" you suggest as you open it. He stops for a second but then smiles easily as he plops down next to you and offers to hold it.
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You spend the afternoon talking, smiling and laughing. The conversation flowed easy and Steve even gave you a peek at his mark which was to no one's surprise the one you have too. Thus followed a lot of star related jokes from Steve. You laughed at every adorable pun and that seemed to spur him on even more. His eyes shining brighter with every laugh or giggle you gifted him, almost like the star littered night sky was trapped in them.
When the sun started to set Steve walked you home. He insisted that he did so because he wanted to make sure you're safe. You agreed, that was obviously the reason. Not the two of you wanting to spend more time together. And him holding your hand obviously was for keeping you safe too. And the kiss that you pressed on his lips when you arrived was definitely just a thank you. And the promise to see each other again after exchanging numbers was just part of your extensive security plan.
Steve slips into the tower through the door in the alleyway. He smiles at Stan before he takes the stairs, two steps at a time. He has never felt this happy and carefree before. He found his soulmate and you were the most beautiful and kind and amazing human being he knows. As he enters the common area he finds Bucky and Sam in front of a stack of paper and Natasha enjoying their aggregation.
"What's going on here?" Steve asks, his left eyebrow lifted. He grabs some water from the fridge and walks over to his friends. "It's all the soulmate applications that were filled out. We're going through them to see if maybe one of them is actually your soulmate." Sam explains and holds up one of the filled out forms. Steve smile widens. "But most of them are so obnoxious. Like this one" Bucky holds up another form. "I'm meant to be yours even if I had to get the soulmark tattooed." He reads, his frown deepening. Steve just laughs and takes the stack in front of his friends. He throws the stack in the recycling bin, much to the outrage of Bucky and Sam. He takes a sip from his water before the smile finds his lips again. "Well... Thank you for doing all this work but it was unnecessary. I found her and she's pretty amazing." His smile widens at the shocked faces of his friends.
"Excuse me, what?! You walk in here like nothing happened and then out of nowhere drop that bomb on us?!" Sam cries out. Steve chuckles which just seems to anger his friends even more. "Oh I'll hand your ass to you in tomorrow's sparring session!" Bucky promises as Steve skillfully avoids him. Finally Natasha just gets up and hugs him. "I'm happy for you. You deserve it, Cap." She says sincerely. "I hope you know that I'm doing a background check on her." Steve chuckles but hugs her back. "And that you're gonna break poor Clint's heart by not visiting him on his farm." Steve's laugh turns into a snort. "You mean I'm making him really happy because he now has an excuse to buy a new chicken? Can't have Cap Jr. without his soulmate. And I'm pretty sure she'll love the chicken once I take her for a visit." Natasha smiles fondly before she punches his shoulder slightly and leaves him to Sam and Bucky's complaining and investigations.
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thestarkerisobvious · 5 months ago
Text
Warmth
based on a prompt by @awesomestarker
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story by @thestarkerisobvious and @mrstarksbaby
moodboard by @mrstarksbaby
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Best.  Vacation.  Ever.
It was silly, but ever since that one year that the electricity had gone out, Peter insisted.  One entire day without electricity.  Except for the refrigerator, of course.  And the hot water heater.  But that was all.  As little device use as possible.  Even to look up information.  That’s what books were for.  During the day they would read or play chess or play card games with the tarot deck or just sit and talk in the sunlit rooms and enjoy the day.  Then, at night, sleeping, bundled up in the living room by the fireplace.  Just like they had done that first winter.
Peter shouldn’t be happy the electricity went out that one year.  Shouldn’t be thankful.  Should acknowledge, at least, some of the danger they could have been in (if it weren’t for the generator.  And the backup generator, of course…)
But he couldn’t help it.  Right now, he was glowing.  Even in the cold cabin, he was glowing.  He should at least go wrap up in the fuzzy blanket again - and he would soon - but for now he stayed where he was.
Watching the Sexiest Man Alive chop wood.
And he was.  Officially.  Voted Sexiest Man Alive.  More than once.  And Peter, now sitting in the seat closest to the window, almost shivering with the cold, couldn’t have agreed more.
He had sat there with the cup of hot cocoa Tony had made for him at his feet.  He had been sitting at the kitchen table, reading in the sunlit room.  He had found an old Llewellen book (“Charms, Spells and Formulas”) that he had bought ages ago at a used book store but never got around to reading.  He was now pouring over a chapter about “gris-gris bags” and scribbling out lists of herbs to look up.  One list to check against Tony’s fully-stocked spice rack, one to check against his collection at home, and one to check against the internet as soon as they allowed themselves back on line.
Tony had only rolled his eyes and groaned at the idea of ordering MORE spell ingredients, but didn’t interfere with the new project until he noticed Peter was shivering at the table, tucking his hands under his legs when his fingers got too cold to write.  
“Humor me,” Tony countered when Peter insisted “I’m fine!” through chattering teeth.  The next thing he knew he was sitting in the living room in front of the fire, warming his hands on a mug of hot cocoa.  
“Are these cinnamon for my protection?” Peter asked with a grin.  “Maybe,” Tony said with a sideways grin.  “Someone has to protect you from yourself.”   
Peter smiled, silently stirring in the intention.  Then noticed that Tony was rolling up his sleeves.   
“And what are you doing?”
“We need more of this,” Tony replied, kicking a pice of firewood with his boot.  “I’ll be back.”
And now here they were - Tony outside chopping firewood, Peter sitting at the couch closest to the window so he could watch.  Watch and wonder.
What was it about that man, Peter wondered, watching those powerful arms move, the iron muscles flex as Tony raised the ax above his head over and over again.  It wasn’t the muscular build, not that alone.  It couldn’t have been.  Captain America had bigger biceps, and much bigger pectorals.  And Thor, well, Thor was a god.  Who towered above all of them, making even Cap look like a short man.  There were more muscular men in Peter’s life.  And as for strength…
…Peter lay back a little in his seat by the window.  Smiling wistfully.  
The truth was, Peter was stronger than Tony.  Stronger than most of the Avengers, actually.  Possibly as strong as Captain America, although Peter never set out to prove it.  Never needed to.  He knew what he knew.  Besides, it didn’t matter.
Peter never thought much about being so strong.  Never thought about the muscles he had built up just swinging across New York City every day, or lifting vehicles off of each other in pileups.  In fact, whenever he thought about being “strong” the only thought, the only memory, that came to mind was holding a splitting ferry full of people together on his own.  He wasn’t strong, not compared to fracturing ferries, or collapsing concrete buildings, or crashing airplanes.  So he never really thought about how much stronger he was than Tony.
Oh, but in Tony’s arms at night, it felt so good to feel weak…
“Enjoying the view?” Tony asked as he brought in the first load of firewood. 
“Very much so,” Peter acknowledged.   
Tony headed outside again, closing the door firmly behind him to keep in the heat.  Peter shivered a bit, grinning to himself.  Tonight was going to be sweet.  When Tony was done chopping firewood he would probably want a shower - a good place to warm them both up, certainly - and then they would have to figure out another way to keep themselves warm.  Although maybe not.  It was barely afternoon, maybe too early in the day for that.  Peter would get up from his seat and, after finding a warm sweater, find some way of making Tony a meal.  As a reward for all this wood-chopping.  They had a whole list of dishes that could be made with the use of the battery powered hotplate or the fire  - some sandwich melts, probably..  And maybe even some hot coco.  Yes, certainly some hot cocoa.  Definitely.  As a reward for all this wood-chopping.
Peter would do that.  Get up from his chilly seat by the window and do that.  But not just yet.
Because right now, Peter just wanted to watch.
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