#if someone can figure out how steve is a menace in the bed….. u should let me know

[hungharrington]

PLSSS MENACE!STEVE WHO’S ALWAYS TRYING TO BITE YOU OR PLAYING THAT HE WILL BITE YOU RJGJFKDKDIDJFK

menace!bf steve is actually my favourite ever steve. i want him so bad and if u send me menace bf steve ANYTHING i’ll give u a piece of my soul <3 sfw, gn!reader :D

“You want one?”

The fry hangs from your fingers, flopping over in all its greasy goodness. You wiggle it in front of Steve’s face temptingly. He’s forgone fries this time — a mistake — and has been greedily eyeing up the bunch on your plate since your food arrived.

Steve squints at you like he wonders if it’s a trick. It’s not— you really are just a sucker for your boyfriend. When he realises it, a fond smile pulls on his mouth.

“Thanks, baby.” He says. Then he leans forwards and snaps this teeth around it with a chomp, just barely missing your fingers. You jump a little in surprise but the expression on your face is playfully aghast.

“Steve—” You begin to chastise but his hand is swooping out to capture your retreating hand. His fingers wrap around your wrist and tug your hand back to his mouth.

“Y’still got some of my fry—” He nips at your fingers and you squeal, releasing the last of the squished up potato and Steve catches it easily.

Only, he still doesn’t release your hand, instead beginning to gnaw along your finger— so soft it tickles. He plays it up, eyes closed as he pretends to moan and groan appreciatively at the good food. You laugh at his ridiculous antics and try wriggle out of his grip. You’re pretty sure half his bites are kisses.

“That’s not a fry, you doofus, that’s my finger!”

Steve stops his nibbling and pretends to look shocked as he finally looks up at you. One of his curls have flopped over his forehead and the neon lights of the diner reflect in his hazel eyes as they shine at you playfully.

“Really?” He asks, not at all serious. “Then why is it so yummy?”

He dives back in without waiting for an answer, this time his little bites trailing up your arm as fast he can. It’s wet and a bit gross and you can’t believe how much you love it. You shriek and bat him off, your delighted grin giving you away completely.

Steve finally lets your wrist go, pretending to pout in disappointment— his smile makes it waver too much to be anywhere near convincing.

You barely get a moment to calm down, giggles barely tittering off before Steve’s perking up again, his eyes fixed on your plate.

“Can I have another fry, please?”

And, well, you just can’t say no to him.

[avengers-age-of-fanfics]

just for you, honeybee (5/?)

pairing: steve rogers x reader (platonic), bucky barnes x reader

warnings: grief, sadness, CA:TFA

words: 2,074

authors note: I am so sorry for posting this late, been a crazy few days! anywho, part 5! slowly working our way into The Avengers & The Winter Soldier. not sure how i'll write the avengers yet but i'll figure something out! thank u for being patient!

Your whole body felt so heavy.

Everything hurt and even with your soft breathing, it was as if all the muscles in your body were screaming at you to stop. Sounds of people cheering were heard but you tried to tune it out, your brain barely able to comprehend why your body hurt so much.

After telling yourself to try to at least open your eyes, you did, and it was so bright. Your eyes fluttered closed once more as you groaned at the light, trying to adjust. Listening to the sound once more, you heard a specific tune – Harry James’ Maria Elena – play on a radio.

You groaned, opening your eyes again as the song continued, hearing Harry’s voice, “Maria Elena, you’re the answer to a prayer…”

God, James loved this song.

Becoming used to the light, you tensed your toes, your legs, your arms, all the way up to your teeth, then untensing. It felt weird, being alive. Wait…were you alive? Maybe?

Before you decided to lay in your cot any longer, you sat up, glancing at your clothes – a plain, white t-shirt with an Eagle in the middle, along with some nice fitting tan pants and some shoes. ‘Odd,’ you thought to yourself, ‘definitely don’t remember changing clothes.’

The room you laid in was relatively plain, nothing was out of the ordinary as Maria Elena continued to play on repeat. “Okay,” you said aloud, “that’s a bit weird.”

With a grumble, you placed your feet on the ground as you held your head in your hands, “ugh, Steve, where the hell are you? ‘Could really use one of Howard’s hangover cures.”

Before you could talk any more nonsense to yourself, the door opened, revealing a beautiful young woman dressed in a nurse’s outfit, “good morning.” She took a quick glance at her watch, “or should I say afternoon.

You eyed her suspiciously as one of your favorite songs quickly grew to be very annoying, “where am I? Where is Steve?”

She seemed a bit nervous as she answered you, “you’re in a recovery room in New York City. Captain Rogers is right beside you, the next room over. He has been informed that you’ve woken up.”

Harry James’ “All or Nothing At All” came on the radio and you felt the urge to roll your eyes, “where am I really?”

The woman chuckled, “I’m afraid I don’t understand.”

Your eyes narrowed, “the songs. Listen, any person with a stable head on their shoulders loves Harry James, but there is no way in hell Blue Ribbon Town is playin’ his songs all the damn time. Now, where am I – and tell Steve I want him here.”

The ‘nurse’ – well, you didn’t know if you could call her that cause you seemingly caught her bluff – grew worried as you stood up, the bed creaking below you, “just tell me where I am and where Steve is and I’ll-“

You stilled for a moment, recognizing the sounds of two people arguing, and of course, Steve’s voice. He sounded agitated and on edge, but at least you knew he was safe. Now, you just wanted to get the hell out of here. The woman, nurse, whoever she was, grabbed a walkie-talkie and began talking into it, but you paid no mind to her.

The door opened behind her, revealing a man, you guessed an Agent, in a suit, “who the hell are you? I want to get out of this room.”

The man held out his hands, “Agent Y/N, my name is Phil Coulson, we work with S.H.I.E.L.D. There’s no need to stress, you are alright and safe.”

You squinted your eyes at him, “well, Agent Coulson, I’m sure you can tell why I am even remotely hesitant to trust you, so with all due respect, I’m breaking out of here.”

And with that, you sprinted towards the wall opposite you, ramming shoulder first and knocking it down, revealing bright lights and metal flooring – almost like they were keeping something on the inside.

An alarm sounded above you as you stopped in a hallway, people looking at your figure before gasping. “All agents, code 13” echoed above you as you dragged yourself along, unable to take a second and look. You cursed Steve for leaving you alone, for not hearing you fighting with that woman and Coulson guy. Shoving some men down onto the floor, you continued to run until you pushed open the doors, the outside becoming cold very quickly.

You spun in a circle, trying to take in everything around you as you ran into oncoming traffic, the sounds of horns blaring causing more confusion than anything. Running seemed to be the only thing you knew how to do, the rain drizzling down upon you, doing nothing to slow your speed. The more you ran, the more you realized how unfamiliar everything looked. Neon signs, tall buildings, cars you’ve never seen before – if that woman was telling the truth, when the hell did everything change?

You slowed to a stop, huge moving-picture signs changed above you and the unfamiliarity was daunting. You needed someone’s hand to grab, to hold onto something, so you reached towards your chest, holding tightly onto Bucky’s dog tags.

Black cars pulled in front of you and from behind you, a tall, sort-of menacing man stood before you, “at ease, Agent.”

Your eyebrows furrowed as Steve stepped out of the backseat of the car, looking uneasy; the man continued, hands at the side of his black trench coat and eyepatch adding more questions as to who this man was, “look, I’m sorry about that little show back there, but…we thought it best to break it to you slowly.”

Your grip on Bucky’s dog tags tightened as your breathing quickened, “Steve? Break what?”

The somewhat terrifying man took a breath, “you’ve been asleep, L/N. For almost 70 years – same with your friend Captain here.”

Your heart ached and it hurt to breathe all of a sudden. Tears welled up in your eyes as you tried to steady your breathing, looking around at everything around you. Steve stepped forward, hands quickly grabbing yours even as you tried to move away, “honeybee, I know it’s a lot to take in but you gotta breathe. You got this, you got this…”

You nodded, trying to listen as ringing took over your ears.

Steve turned, trying to catch his breath as the man in front of you looked to you both, “you going to be okay?”

Steve nodded, “she’ll be okay, she’s fine.

The man looked to you, “Miss L/N?”

You tried to steady your breathing, “I need…where is…”

The man held out his hands, “we’ll answer all of your questions, starting with who I am – my name is Director Nick Fury of S.H.I.E.L.D. We’ve been taking care of you both since your discovery and anything you need, you let us know. Now, can we get you situated?”

Steve continued to look confused as you glared at Fury, “how do I know I can trust you?”

Fury gestured to the world surrounding you, “you see anyone else trying to make friends, Miss L/N?”

You grumbled, “y/n is fine, really…Cap, what’s going on?”

Steve gripped your hands, “you can trust him, y/n, I promise. He’ll make sense of everything, he’s a good guy.”

With a glare, you looked towards the Director, “where…where would I be headed with you?”

Nick Fury leaned back on the balls of his feet, “Washington D.C, Triskelion, S.H.I.E.L.D, HQ, specifically.”

With a glance to Steve, you knew that broken look too well – a place to rest, to fully digest this news, would be nice. It seems he has somewhat fit in with this new world that you now have to adjust to. You turned to Fury, “I’ll go with you. But will I be staying there permanently?”

Fury shrugged, “you are in charge of your own life. Once we get you settled, you’re free to do what you wish.”

Steve nodded towards you as he recognized your hesitance – you can trust Nick Fury. You’ll be in charge of your own life once you become accustomed to this new world.

The trip to Washington D.C. was not too troublesome, but coming to terms with what era you were living in sure was. You and Steve were silent the entire ride, making sense of what had happened during your final mission. Once you arrived, Nick Fury had no qualms about telling you what had happened; you had completed the mission, saving millions of lives, and you had won the war.

But it just did not feel right.

You knew why; you shouldn’t be here. At this point, you and Bucky, your Jamie, should be in your late 80s, kids, and grandkids living their lives to the fullest. Yet here you were, living in an unknown world without your James, and the worst part – you had no idea if his body was recovered, if he had a funeral, if Becca had something for him.

That was what the first few months of your new life consisted of: doing research on these high-tech computers about Bucky, Rebecca, catching up on the history you missed out on. Unconsciously, you found yourself researching ‘Colonel Chester Phillips’ and found that your broody Colonel lived the rest of his life to the fullest, becoming one of the founders of S.H.I.E.L.D. – you just knew that man was meant for greatness. Next, ‘Howard Stark’ added to your search and your heart ached.

Howard, your Howie Stark, was murdered.

They had known it was murder, or some kind of setup, once the feds realized much of his equipment was stolen from his car. Howard and his beautiful wife Maria were murdered.

You cried that night.

The next day, you brought yourself to visit Colonel Phillips’ grave and laid a bouquet of flowers on his grave; you knew he’d call you ridiculous, that he didn’t need any flowers, but you did it anyway. Shockingly, Howard and Maria’s gravesite weren’t too far and you had laid flowers on their graves as well.

Steve hadn’t joined you.

You weren’t upset with him, no, just…you weren’t sure. You wished he came along, but he figured giving you space was what you needed when in reality, you needed him – you needed your Steve Rogers from Brooklyn. At least when you two went down, Peggy was still alive; your James wasn’t. A part of you hated Steve for that, but it also grieved with him.

Nothing more was done of your research on Jamie; you’d seen the same thing about him over and over, yet you knew all that was said. However, you loved seeing moving pictures of him and Steve, ones you hadn’t seen before that day. He was just as beautiful as the day he left you for war. His smile made your heart race and his nose scrunch, his eyes squinting during his smile…he was breathtaking.

Reaching below the collar of your shirt, you grasped the dog tags around your neck, thankful S.H.I.E.L.D. hadn’t taken them off. Laying a kiss on them, you let them go, hitting your chest before your fingers met the keyboard: “Grover, Newspaper vendor, Brooklyn.”

That man had continued selling newspapers until his final years and right away, you saw an article titled, “LOCAL NEWS VENDOR SHARES PERSONAL EXPERIENCE WITH CAPTAIN AMERICA’S PARTNER, Y/N L/N, AFTER LOSS OF CONTACT.” Of course, that old man had to talk about you.

Reading the article, you realized this was right after Steve and you crashed; you felt Grover’s grief and pain through his words. “That kid was a pain in my side, but y/n l/n is – was, one of the lights in my life. She was like the daughter I’ve always wanted an’ while I wish she coulda stayed here, she always told me she needed ta’ do somethin’ with her life,” Grover had said, the author keeping his Brooklyn accent. “Her relationship with James Barnes meant so much to that girl and if there was any way she’d avenge his death, she’d be doin’ it, and I know she did,” he said, “and even though I gotta live the rest of my life without that girl, I know I couldn’t have kept her from doin’ what she thought was best. I love her and…I’ll miss her.”

Visiting his grave was the most emotionally draining day since you’ve been back.

-

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