#captian america: the first avenger

[kaipassedgo]

every day i wake up and am mad at the end of steves storyline and the full and complete lack of people who GET IT

[marvelilovebucky]

No words needed…

[florida3exclamationpoints]

Steve (and friends) + text posts pt. 15/?

Bonus:

[loversrocktvgirl2]

my mini multiverse of madness…

Undercover (Steve Rodgers x Reader) 

“Rodgers! Y/L/N!” Nick Fury walked into the Avengers tower, calling both your name and Steve’s. You got up from where you were reading at the table, and Steve walked into the room. Tony snorted at how much more respectful you both were to Nick than he was. Nick shot Tony a look, and returned his attention to you. “I’ve got a mission for you both. It’s undercover, aliases, the whole ordeal.”

You nodded, and so did Steve. “What are the aliases?” you asked curiously. Steve glanced over at you, then looked back at Nick for him to answer the questions. 

“You two will be posing as a young married couple at a gala. There’s a man who works at Hydra who has a good amount of intel, and he’s bringing his wife. Your best in will be to small talk the information out of them. Should be easier, considering there’s going to be a lot of champagne and probably other forms of alcohol,” Nick informed. 

You felt like your eyes were going to pop out of your skull. Young married couple?? The thought already made you nervous. Acting like you were married to Steve… it sounded both like a dream come true and your worst nightmare. You had definitely developed a pretty big crush on him, which was going to make this easier, yet more difficult. And how were you supposed to focus if you kept concentrating on him and acting like you were married? Ughh, why did Nick have to give you this mission? Granted, you would’ve been jealous if he’d asked Natasha to pretend to be Steve’s wife, but you were nervous as hell.

Little did you know, Steve’s nerves were jumping off the walls of his insides as well. He adored you. He thought you were the cutest, most incredible human on earth, and he would love to pretend to be your husband for the night. His biggest fear was that something would accidentally slip out, and he’d end up confessing his feelings to you. And that? That was terrifying. What if you thought he was crazy and never wanted to be around him again? What if you felt uncomfortable dating a guy who was technically ninety-six? Of course, he still looked twenty-seven—he felt twenty-seven— but he was from a different time. Worst of all, what if you just didn’t like him, at all? Horrifying thought. Nope, no way he was going to confess to you. He was going to keep his mouth shut as much as he could possibly help, and hope that nothing slipped out while you two were on mission. 

“Conveniently,” Nick continued, and you snapped out of your thoughts. “You, Steve, are physically impossible to get drunk. If he challenges you to a drinking contest, you do it. But keep an eye on how much he drinks. You want him loose-lipped enough to get some information out of him, but not so inebriated that nothing he says is coherent. Find the balance.”

Steve nodded in understanding, and Nick turned to you. 

“You know as well as I do that wives often know more than they let on. If you can get his wife comfortable enough with you, I would see what information she has to offer. She might be a valuable asset,” Nick suggested. 

“Sounds like a good idea,” you answered. 

In the kitchen, Natasha leaned over to Tony and whispered, “what are the chances you think Fury’s putting them together to see if they’ll actually get over themselves and go on a damn date?”

Tony’s brows furrowed. “Fury? Really?”

Natasha shrugged. 

“I mean, you or me I could definitely see doing that, but Fury? Man’s all business,” Tony said. “It’s annoying, actually.”

“Okay, sure, but a young married couple?” Natasha pointed out. She was still keeping her voice done. You and Steve weren’t terribly far from the kitchen as you listened to Nick explaining the details of the mission, and she didn’t want her conversation with Tony heard. 

“Yeah, that’s a little suspicious,” Tony admitted. “It does work for the mission, though.”

“Yeah, I know that,” Natasha said, a hint of agitation seeping into her voice. “I’m just saying. I think that Fury’s put them together intentionally.”

“Do you wanna place some bets?” Tony offered. 

“Ten bucks they get together, five bucks Fury chose this for them intentionally,” Natasha replied, crossing her arms across her chest. 

“Deal.”

Tony shook Natasha’s hand. 

— — — 

Steve was dressed in a suit and you were wearing one of your favorite formal dresses. He was in the driver’s seat of the car, driving you both to the gala. “You ready for this?” he asked. 

“Sure am,” you lied through your teeth, smiling at him. 

Steve gave you his fist, and you fist bumped him. “Mr. and Mrs. Wright,” Steve said with a smile. 

“That’s right,” you nodded. 

“Or Wright,” Steve quipped and you started laughing at his cheesy joke. He grinned at you. “We’re gonna do this…” he said in sing-song as he pulled into the parking lot of the venue. “Remember, if you’ve got anything we need to talk about, you tap a glass three times and I’ll meet you in the resting room by the bathroom.”

You nodded in agreement. “Fancy. A resting room by the bathroom.”

Steve laughing. “Sure is.” He got out of the car and walked around to open your door. He held out his hand and helped you out of the car. 

Once you were in the venue, you each got a drink and began to mingle around, looking for your targets. You tried to stay relatively close together, trying to act in a way that would make people think you were a newly married couple. 

Steve nudged your arm slightly, nodding toward a small group gathered near the dance floor. Your target and his wife stood at the center, clearly enjoying the conversation.

“I’ve got an idea,” Steve said. Before you could ask, he was already leading you over, stopping just close enough to catch the attention of the man’s wife.

“Excuse me,” you said with a warm smile. “We’re new to these kinds of events—do you mind if we join you?”

Her face lit up with the kind of politeness that came with social etiquette. “Oh, of course! We were just talking about…”

And just like that, you were in.

— — — 

Soon, you were talking to the target’s wife—her name was Amanda Jefferson—making small talk to get her more comfortable with you. “So, you’re newlyweds? That’s exciting,” Amanda grinned at you. 

“Yes, we are,” you smiled. 

“How long have you been married?” 

“About eight months. He’s just…he’s amazing, I love him. He’s been a pretty consistent part of my life for almost five years now, and I just… I can’t picture life without him anymore.”

Amanda’s face softened. “I’m so happy for you.”

You grinned. “Thank you so much.”

Amanda took a sip of her wine, her smile faltering just slightly as she turned her glass in her hands. “That’s wonderful,” she said, her voice quieter now. “It’s nice to have that kind of certainty.”

You tilted your head. “You don’t sound convinced.”

She let out a soft chuckle, but there was no humor in it. “No, no, it’s not that. I just—” She hesitated, as if choosing her words carefully. “It’s refreshing to hear someone talk about love like that. Like it’s… easy.”

You frowned. “Love isn’t always easy, but it should feel right, shouldn’t it?”

Amanda exhaled slowly, her gaze drifting to the other side of the room, where her husband stood, engaged in conversation with a group of people—none of whom were her. “I suppose so.”

You followed her gaze. “How long have you and Mr. Jefferson been married?”

“Six years.” Her fingers tightened slightly around the stem of her glass. “Feels like longer.”

There was something almost weary in the way she said it. You watched as she glanced back at her husband again, her expression unreadable but distant, like she was seeing something—or someone—you couldn’t.

“Six years is a long time,” you said carefully. “But… that’s a good thing, right?”

Amanda’s lips pressed together in a thin, tired smile. “Sometimes.” She took another sip of wine. “And sometimes, it’s just… time.”

— — —

Meanwhile, Steve was having a drink with Mr. Jefferson, who seemed relaxed but ever so slightly calculating—like a man who never truly let his guard down.

“You seem like a man who appreciates the details,” Mr. Jefferson remarked, swirling the amber liquid in his glass.

Steve gave a polite nod. “I try to be.”

Mr. Jefferson smirked. “Good. I respect that.” He set his glass down and adjusted his cuffs. “Actually, I think there’s something you might find interesting—some files I keep in my study. Would you care to take a look?”

Steve met his gaze evenly. “Lead the way.”

— — — 

A couple hours later, you tapped your wine glass three times and gave Steve a look—he’d returned recently from looking at the files with Mr. Jefferson—and then walked to the resting room. A moment later, Steve excused himself, and joined you in the resting room, closing the door behind him. “Oh my God, she hates her husband!” you whispered to Steve. His eyes widened. “She told me a bunch of stuff,” you whispered. “Like the vault in—”

“The vault in Brooklyn!” Steve whisper shouted. 

You grinned. “He was talking to you, too?”

“Well, he’s kind of drunk now, but I got to see a bunch of files. I memorized the code he put in,” Steve said, keeping his voice down still. 

“Oh my God!” you whisper shouted back. Then you heard footsteps approaching, and someone was about to open the door. Shit. What if they found out what you and Steve were doing here? Suddenly, Steve cupped your face in his hands and kissed you. You were shocked but quickly fell into it, and then the door opened. 

A man walked in. “Oh, sorry, guys. I’ll just… leave you alone.” And he left. 

You turned to look back at Steve. He looked nervous. “I’m sorry, it was the first thing I came up with and—”

Before you could rethink your decision, you cupped his face with your hands and pulled him back to you, kissing him again. He immediately started kissing you back, his hands finding your waist and barely holding you there. He was tentative, careful. When you broke away, you said softly, “we should probably, uh, go back to work.”

Steve shrugged with a slight playful smile. “Eh. He’s drunk off his mind anyway.” 

You smiled and he pulled you back, kissing you again. “So…” you said a moment later. “Should we go home…?” 

“Yeah,” he nodded, looking at you affectionately. “And maybe…maybe I can take you on a real date tomorrow…?”

You grinned. “Yes.” 

[depressedtrashfr]

Mental breakdown❌️

Stucky smut✅️

[hford0311]

Swooning: A Stark Christmas Party

Wake up, Endgame/Infinity War Never Happened. Steve and Tony forgave each other.

Pairing: Bucky x fem!reader

You twirled your hair as you pretended to listened to Rhodey's most recent mission recap. "You know, you could at least look like you were interested," Tony whispered directly into your ear from behind the couch. You gasped, surprised by his appearance, "Jesus, Tony!" You snapped. "What? I thought you had super powers or something like that?" He teased, plopping besides you on the couch. You rolled your eyes. "Ah, yes, because my telekinesis can definitely predict and prevent me from being scared from someone whispering in my ear without a warning. What was I thinking?" Tony smirked, "Well, you definitely not thinking about Rhodes' story." "You got me there."

***

"Why...just tell me why again?" You asked Thor after a few drinks. "Everyone else did it at one point, now, it's your turn." He was of course referring to picking up his hammer. "Yeah, no, I'm good." You brushed it off. "Couldn't hurt to just try. You don't even have to use your hands, use your mind!" He was very enthusiastic trying to persuade you. "I'd rather..." your thought trailed away as you noticed Steve, Bucky, and Sam gather around the pool table. "Uh, Y/n?" Thor noticed your attention shift. "Another time." You responded and walked to the edge of the loft to get a better view of the game.

"I've seen that look before." Natasha mentioned to you. "Which is..." "You're telling yourself that you're not swooned, but you totally are." You rolled your eyes in response. "Don't roll your eyes, you know it's true." You huffed, "I don't think I've ever swooned." "Call it what you want, I just know that's what he'll probably call it. You swoon. You're a swoon-er." Her smirk grew more. "Natasha-" "Anyone can tell...besides you...and him." Her head tilted towards the man that she referred to, "Isn't it true, Tony?" She called to the man walking up the stairs. "Oh for sure...what are we talking about?" He responded, now joining your company again. "Y/l/n and Barnes." "Yeah, they purposefully avoid each other and it's not because of hatred." He smoothly replied. "We do not-" "God, the attitude tonight. Keep it up and you're not invited to my wedding." Tony cut you off. "Fine, what do I need to prove that I'm not avoiding him? Hmm?" You offered up. Nat and Tony shared a look. "Go help him win his game of pool. Start there." Tony answered. You scoffed, "I can do that from here...in my sleep." Nat made a face, "Start there...but in a six foot distance from him." You sighed and walked down to the trio of men in front of the pool table.

You leaned against one of the nearby beams. Humming along with whatever the current Christmas tune was playing, you would occasionally twist your wrist to make the ball sink into the hole without the other men notice.

What movement you didn't notice was the pair that made you get close and begin their true scheme. Just had to move a few decorations around. Nothing out of the ordinary....right? "You better pay up if this doesn't work." Nat threatened Tony as they lowered the mistletoe down the hook that just happened to be a few feet above from one of their persons of interest.

"Okay! This is rigged!" Sam exclaimed a few more pocketed balls from Bucky later. Steve tried to calm the man. "No, he seriously hasn't missed one over the last few-" "I know...I know." Steve tried to say more then Sam noticed you. "Oh! I get it now." A grin grew on his face. Steve and Bucky gave him a confused look. "Damnit, Sam!" Tony growled under his breath. "What? Afraid you'll lose?" Nat smirked at her chances of winnings.

"I didn't do anything," you defensively lied, "can't a girl just watch a poorly played game of pool?" Sam rolled his eyes, and Steve pulled him away from the situation. "I got my eyes on you." Sam somewhat-seriously joked. You sighed and took another sip of your drink. "Come on, Barnes, take the bait. Go to the pretty girl." Nat quietly encouraged from a distance.

Bucky gave you a small, shy smile. You exchanged the same. "Didn't happen to mess with my chances, did you?" His eyebrows quirked up. "Oh, no, definitely not," you shook your head with a bit of mischief in your eyes. Another sip. He hummed, not entirely believing you. "You're telling me your metal arm can't beat Sam Wilson in a game?" Bucky chuckled and was inches away from you. He leaned into your ear and whispered, "You realize we have two people spying on us?" You sighed and nodded, whispering back, "They think we're swooning and avoiding each other." You admitted. Another small smile grew across his face. "Well.... are we?" You looked down, heat raising to your cheeks. "Maybe," you shyly responded.

After a silent minute, Sam walked by, tapped Bucky's shoulder, pointed to up the mistletoe, and then rejoined Steve and their conversation that definitely didn't involve the two of you. The pair of you looked up at the plant then at each other. "Mistletoe's tradition of being kissed under hasn't changed right?" Bucky asked. You giggled and shook your head. He tilted your chin up and leaned in. A soft kiss. He pulled away, looking at you, "I don't think maybe was a strong enough answer." You wrapped your arms around his neck, Bucky's arms wrapped around your waist, bridging the few inch gap even more, and several more kisses came.

"That's one bet settled. Wanna make another one?" Natasha asked Tony. "Yeah, no." Tony denied. "Oh c'mon, this one brought two people together." Nat countered. "We'll leave it at that. I never want to walk in on something that I shouldn't have." Tony said while finding a new person to talk to.

"Are the spies still looking?" You whispered into his ear. "No. Their mission must be completed." He answered, his blue eyes starring into yours. "Good. I'm tired of the audience." His flesh hand slipped between yours. "I can think of many places where there isn't one." Bucky whispered with a smirk and started to guide you away from the party-goers.

[ghostlyfanparadise]

[scarfacemarston]

Do you find it likely that pre serum Steve would have had huge amounts of trouble finding/keeping a job?

Oh absolutely. People think it's a trope, but it's not. It's canonical and has been for decades.

If people knew that he was related to someone who died from tuberculosis (Sarah), then this would have made Steve's job prospects tank. However, this is confusing as tuberculosis was extremely widespread and one of the leading causes of death. I say this because tons of people were exposed to tuberculosis. Technically, Bucky would be included in this instance, but this is something I've never understood and I wrote an entire thesis on tuberculosis history. But yes, that would have been a mark against Steve and automatically a reason not to hire him. Steve's asthma would have been extremely problematic as we've seen. According to this article, a 1914 drug was considered as a treatment for asthma, but upon looking elsewhere, it doesn't appear to have been widespread or necessarily affordable. According to the same article, the actual use of something like a modern inhaler was not in use until the 1950s. Asthma was still deadly at this time.

Steve's only treatment would have been "asthma" cigarettes, which were of course, not helpful. Additionally, If Steve was susceptible to influenzas, this would be an incredibly dangerous threat, especially if it occurred multiple times throughout his life. Influenza is still deadly today. So not only would he be dangerously ill, he was also a risk to others which would actually cause him to potentially be disciplined or even fired if he did try to work through it. Steve's weight while problematic would not be enough to exclude him from more sedentary jobs, but he would struggle to find any sort of active job. These are only a few of the ailments that he had.

So yes, I think it is very highly likely that Steve would have struggled to have found a job and kept a job. Employers would have also found it suspicious that he was constantly switching jobs which would be another mark against him. This tumblr user wrote an awesome analysis of Steve's illnesses.

[figures4fun]

‘Steve, you’re going to want to speed up!’

[vertigoartgore]

2025's Captain America Vol.12 #1 (LGY : #772) variant cover by cover artist Chip Zdarsky (the new writer of the Captain America ongoing). Source

[just-marvel-polls]

Ship wars 1

[bambii-bat]

Steve Rogers did all the saving. Captain America took the credit.

The little guy in Brooklyn all of five feet tall and ninety pounds soaking wet? They hated Steve.

But the caricature that is Captain America, now that they love.

[marvelilovebucky]

He will always be worthy🫶🏼

[florida3exclamationpoints]

Steve (and friends) + text posts pt. 14/?

[vicontheinternet]

Captain marvel being made in phase 3 being abt Monica as a charlie angels type movie with sharon and bobbi/Laura. Get her powers like in the comics not from the space stone totally disregarding captain America>>>>

[eva-knits12]

Making of CAPTAIN AMERICA: THE FIRST AVENGER | Chris Evans Marvel Movie

Here’s some behind the scenes footage of CATFA.